Plato - Charmides, Alcibiades

8/2/2019 Plato - Charmides, Alcibiades....

1/525


2/525


3/525


4/525


5/525

1THE LOEB CLASSICAL LIBRARY

FOrXDED BY JAMES LOEB, LL.D.EDITED BY

tT. E. PAGE, C.H., UTT.D.t E. CAPPS, PH.D., LL.D. t W. H. D. ROUSE, lttt.d.

jr.. A. POST, L.H.D. E. H. WARMIXGTOX, m.a., .b.hist.soc.

PLATOCHARMIDES ALCIBIADES I and II

HIPPARCHUS THE LO\'ERSTHEAGES MINOS EPINOMIS


6/525


7/525

PLATOWITH AN ENGLISH TRANSLATIONCHARMIDES ALCIBIADES I and IIHIPPARCHUS THE LOVERSTHEAGES MINOS EPINOMIS

BYW. R. M. LAMB, M.A.aOMKTUtK FELLOW OF TmiNITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIOGB

LONDONWILLIAM HEINEMANN LTDCAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTSHARVARD UNIVERSITY PRESS

MCMLXIV


8/525

First printed 1927Reprinted 1955, 1964

VJ7fh

Printed in Qreat Britain


9/525

CONTENTS


10/525


11/525

PREFACEThe Greek text in this volume is based on therecension of Schanz, except in the cases of the Minosand the Epinomis, where it follows in the main thetext of C. F. Hermann. Emendations accepted frommodern scholars are noted as they occur.The special introductions are intended merely toprepare the reader for the general character andpurpose of each dialogue.

W. li M. LAMa


12/525


13/525

GENERAL INTRODUCTIONPlato was bom in 427 b.c. of Athenian parents whocould provide him with the best education of theday, and ample means and leisure throughout his Ufe.He came to manhood in the dismal close of thePeloponnesian War, when Aristophanes was at theheight of his success, and Sophocles and Euripideshad produced their last plays. As a boy he doubtlessheard the lectures of Gorgias, Protagoras, and othersophists, and his early bent seems to have beentowards poetry. But his intelligence was too pro-gressive to rest in the agnostic position on whichthe sophistic culture was based. A century before,Heracleitus had declared knowledge to be impossible,because the objects of sense are continually changing ;yet now a certain Cratylus was trying to build atheory of knowledge over the assertion of flux, bydeveloping some hints let fall by its oracular authorabout the truth contained in names. From thisinfluence Plato passed into contact with Socrates,whose character and gifts have left a singular impresson the thought of mankind. This effect is almostwholly due to Plato's apphcations and extensions of


14/525

GENERAL INTRODUCTIONhis master's thought ; since, fortunately for us, thepupil not only became a teacher in his turn, butbrought his artistic genius into play, and composedthe memorials of philosophic talk which we knowas the Dialogues. Xenophon, Antisthenes, andAeschines were other disciples of Socrates who drewsimilar sketches of his teaching : the suggestioncame from the " mimes " of the Syracusan Sophron,realistic studies of conversation between ordinarytypes of character. As Plato became more engrossedin the Socratic speculations, this artistic impulsewas strengthened by the desire of recording eachdefinite stage of thought as a basis for new discussionand advance.When Plato was twenty years old, Socrates was

over sixty, and had long been notorious in Athensfor his peculiar kind of sophistry. In the Phaedo hetells how he tried, in his youth, the current scientificexplanations of the universe, and found them full ofpuzzles. He then met with the theory of Anax-agoras,that the cause of everything is " mind."This was more promising : but it led nowhere afterall, since it failed to rise above the conception ofphysical energy ; this " mind " showed no intelhgentaim. Disappointed of an assurance that the universeworks for the best, Socrates betook himself to theplan of making definitions of " beautiful," " good,"" large," and so on, as qualities observed in the severalclasses of beautiful, good and large material things,and then employing these propositions, if they


15/525

GENERAL INTRODUCTIONappeared to be sound, for the erection of higherhj^otheses. The point is that he made a new scienceout of a recognized theory of " ideas " or " forms,"which had come of reflecting on the quaUty predicatedwhen we say " this man is good," and which postu-lates some sure reahty behind the fleeting objectsof sense. His " hypothetical " method, famihar tomathematicians, attains its full reach and significancein the Republic.The Pythagoreans who appear in the intimate

scene of the Phaedo were accustomed to the theoryof ideas, and were a fit audience for the highestreasonings of Socrates on the true nature of life andthe soul. For some years before the master's death(399 B.C.) Plato, if not a member of their circle, wasoften a spell-bound hearer of the " satyr." Butordinary' Athenians had other views of Socrates, whichvaried according to their age and the extent of theiracquaintance with him. Aristophanes' burlesque inthe Clouds (423 b.c.) had left a common impressionnot unUke what we have of the King of Laputa. Yetthe young men who had any frequent speech withhim in his later years, while they felt there wassomething uncanny about him, found an irresistibleattraction in his simple manner, his humorous insightinto their ways and thoughts, and his fervent elo-quence on the principles of their actions and careers.He kept no school, and took no fees ; he distrustedthe pretensions of the regular sophists, with whomhe was carelessly confounded ; moreover, he professed

xi


16/525

GENERAL INTRODUCTIONto have no knowledge himself, except so far as toknow that he was ignorant. The earliest Dialogues,such as the Apology, Crito, Euthyphro, Charmides,Laches, and Lysis, show the manner in which heperformed his ministry. In rousing men, especiallythose whose minds were fresh, to the need of knowingthemselves, he promoted the authority of the intellect,the law of definite individual knowledge, above allreason of state or tie of party ; and it is not sur-prising that his city, in the effort of recovering herpolitical strength, decided to hush such an in-convenient voice. He must have foreseen his fate,but he continued his work undeterred.Though he seems, in his usual talk, to have

professed no positive doctrine, there were one ortwo beliefs which he frequently declared. Virtue,he said, is knowledge ; for each man's good is hishappiness, and once he knows it clearly, he needsmust choose to ensue it. Further, this knowledgeis innate in our minds, and we only need to have itawakened and exercised by " dialectic," or a system-atic course of question and answer. He also be-lieved his mission to be divinely ordained, andasserted that his own actions were guided at timesby the prohibitions of a " spiritual sign." He wascapable, as we find in the Symposium, of standing inrapt meditation at any moment for some time, andonce for as long as twenty-four hours.

It is clear that, if he claimed no comprehensivetheory of existence, and although his ethical reliance


17/525

GENERAL INTRODUCTIONon knowledge, if he never analysed it, leaves him ina very crude stage of psychology, his logical andmystical suggestions must have led his favoiu-itepupils a good way towards a new system of meta-physics. These intimates learnt, as they steepedtheir minds in his, and felt the growth of a uniqueaffection amid the glow of enhghterunent, thathappiness may be elsewhere than in our deahngswith the material world, and that the mind hasprerogatives and duties far above the sphere of civiclife.

After the death of Socrates in 399, Plato spentsome twelve years in study and travel. For thefirst part of this time he was perhaps at Megara,where Eucleides, his fellow-student and friend, wasforming a school of dialectic. Here he may havecomposed some of the six Dialogues already men-tioned as recording Socrates' activity in Athens.Towards and probably beyond the end of this period,in order to present the Socratic method in bolderconflict with sophistic education, he wrote theProtagoras, Meno, Euthydemus, and Gorgias. Theseworks show a much greater command of dramaticand hterary art, and a deeper interest in logic. Thelast of them may well be later than 387, the year inwhich, after an all but disastrous attempt to betterthe mind of Dionysius of Syracuse, he returned toAthens, and, now forty years of age, foimded theAcademy ; where the memory of his master was tobe perpetuated by continuing and expanding the


18/525

GENERAL INTRODUCTIONSocratic discussions among the elect of the newgeneration. The rivalry of this private college withthe professional school of Isocrates is discerniblein the subject and tone of the Gorgias. Platocarried on the direction of the Academy till hisdeath, at eighty-one, in 346 ; save that half-waythrough this period (367) he accepted the invitationof his friend Dion to undertake the instruction of theyounger Dionysius at Syracuse. The elder tyranthad been annoyed by the Socratic freedom of Plato'stalk : now it was a wayward youth who refused theyoke of a systematic training. What that trainingwas hke we see in the Republic, where true pohticalwisdom is approached by an arduous ascent throughmathematics, logic, and metaphysics. Plato returned,with less hopes of obtaining the ideal ruler, to makewonderful conquests in the realm of thought.The Meno and Gorgias set forth the doctrine that

knowledge of right is latent in our minds : dialectic,not the rhetoric of the schools, is the means ofeliciting it. The method, as Plato soon perceived,must be long and difficult : but he felt a mysticalrapture over its certainty, which led him to picturethe immutable " forms " as existing in a world oftheir own. This feeling, and the conviction whenceit springsthat knowledge is somehow possible, hadcome to the front of his mind when he began toknow Socrates. Two brilliant compositions, theCratylus and Symposium, display the strength of theconviction, and then, the noble fervour of the


19/525

GENERAL INTRODUCTIONfeeling. In the latter of these works, the highestpowers of imaginative sympathy and eloquence aresummoned to unveil the sacred \'ision of absolutebeauty. The Phaedo turns the logical theory uponthe soul, which is seen to enjoy, when freed fromthe body, familiar cognition of the eternal typesof being. Here Orphic dogma lends its aid to theSocratic search for knowledge, while we behold aninspiring picture of the philosopher in his hour ofdeath.With increasing confidence in himself as the

successor of Socrates, Plato next undertook, in theRepublic, to show the master meeting his own un-satisfied queries on education and pohtics. We readnow of a " form " of good to which all thought andaction aspire, and which, contemplated in itself, willexplain not merely why justice is better than in-justice, but the meaning and aim of everything.In order that man may be fully understood, we areto \iew him " writ large " in the organization of anideal state. The scheme of description opens outinto many subsidiary topics, including three greatproposals already known to Greece,the abohtion ofprivate property, the community of women andchildren, and the civic equality of the sexes. Butthe central subject is the preparation of the philo-sopher, through a series of ancillary sciences, fordialectic ; so that, once possessed of the supremetruth, he may have hght for directing his fellow-men.As in the Phaedo, the spell of mythical revelation is

XV


20/525

GENERAL INTRODUCTIONbrought to enhance the discourse of reason. ThePhaedrus takes up the subject of rhetoric, to lead usallegorically into the realm of " ideas," and thence topoint out a new rhetoric, worthy of the well-traineddialectician. We get also a glimpse of the philo-sopher's duty of investigating the mutual relationsof the " forms " to which his study of particularthings has led him.A closer interest in logical method, appearingthrough his delight in imaginative construction, isone distinctive mark of this middle stage in Plato'steaching. As he passes to the next two Dialogues,the Theaetetus and Parmenides, he puts off theaesthetic rapture, and considers the ideas as cate-gories of thought which require co-ordination. Thediscussion of knowledge in the former makes itevident that the Academy was now the meeting-place of vigorous minds, some of which were eagerto urge or hear refuted the doctrines they hadlearnt from other schools of thought ; while thearguments are conducted with a critical cautionvery different from the brilliant and often hastyzeal of Socrates. The Parmenides corrects an actualor possible misconception of the theory of ideas inthe domain of logic, showing perhaps how Aristotle,now a youthful disciple of Plato, found fault withthe theory as he understood it. The forms areviewed in the light of the necessities of thoughtknowledge is to be attained by a careful practicewhich will raise our minds to the vision of all parti-


21/525

GENERAL INTRODUCTIONculars in their rightly distinguished and connectedclasses.Plato is here at work on his own great problem :If what we know is a single permanent law underwhich a multitude of things are ranged, what is thelink between the one and the many ? The Sophistcontains some of his ripest thought on this increas-ingly urgent question : his confident advance beyondSocratic teaching is indicated by the hterary form,which hardly disguises the continuous exposition ofa lecture. We observe an attention to physicalscience, the association of soul, motion, and existence,and the comparative study of being and not-being.The Politicus returns to the topic of state-government,and carries on the process of acquiring perfectnotions of reality by the classification of things.Perhaps we should see in the absolute "mean"which is posited as the standard of all arts, business,and conduct, a contribution from Aristotle. ThePhilehus, in dealing with pleasure and knowledge,dwells further on the correct di\ision and classifica-tion required if our reason, as it surely must, is toapprehend truth. The method is becoming morethorough and more complex, and Plato's hope ofbringing it to completion is more remote. But he isgaining a clearer insight into the problem of unityand plurahty.The magnificent myth of the TimaeuSy related

by a Pythagorean, describes the structure of theuniverse, so as to show how the One manifests

xvii


22/525

GENERAL INTRODUCTIONitself as the Many. We have here the latestreflections of Plato on space, time, soul, and manyphysical matters. In the lengthy treatise of theLaws, he addresses himself to the final duty of thephilosopher as announced in the Republic : a longhabituation to abstract thought will qualify ratherthan disqualify him for the practical regulation ofpublic and private affairs. Attention is fixed oncemore on soul, as the energy of the world and thevehicle of our sovereign reason.Thus Plato maintains the fixity of the objects of

knowledge in a great variety of studies, which enlargethe compass of Socrates' teaching till it embracesenough material for complete systems of logic andmetaphysics. How far these systems were actuallyworked out in the discussions of the Academy we canonly surmise from the Dialogues themselves anda careful comparison of Aristotle ; whose writings,however, have come down to us in a much lessperfect state. But it seems probable that, to theend, Plato was too fertile in thought to rest contentwith one authoritative body of doctrine. We maybe able to detect in the Timaeus a tendency toview numbers as the real principles of things ; andwe may conjecture a late-found interest in thephysical complexion of the world. As a true artist,with a keen sense of the beauty and stir of life,Plato had this interest, in a notable degree, through-out : but in speaking of his enthusiasm for sciencewe must regard him rather as a great inventor of


23/525

GENERAL INTRODUCTIONsciences than as what we should now call a scientist.This is giving him a splendid name, which few menhave earned. Some of his inventions may be un-realizable, but it is hard to find one that is certainlyfutile. There are flaws in his arguments : to statethem clearly and fairly is to win the privilege oftaking part in a discussion at the Academy.

W. R. M. Lamb.

[Note.Each of the Dialogues is a self-contained toholg.The order in which they have been mentioned in this Introduc-tion in that which agrees best in the main with modem viewsof Plato's mental progress, though the succession in someinstances is uncertain.\

xix


24/525

BIBLIOGRAPHYThe following give useful accounts of Socratic and

Platonic thought :T. Gomperz: The Greek Thinkers, vols. ii. and iii. Murray,

1901-5.W. Lutoslawski : The Origin and Growth of Platans Logic.Longmans, 1897.R. L. Nettleship : Philosophic Lectures and Remains. 2 vols.

Macmillan, 2nd ed., 1901.D. G. Ritchie: Plato. T. and T. Clark, 1902.J. A. Stewart: The Myths of Plato. Macmillan, 1905.

Plato's Doctrine of Ideas. Clarendon Press,1909.A. E. Taylor: Plato. Constable, 1911.A. M. Adam: Plato: Moral and Political Ideals. Cainb.Univ. Press, 1913.H. Jackson: Presocratics, Socrates and the Minor Socratics,

Plato and the Old Academy (Cambridge Companion toGreek Studies). Camb. Univ. Press, 1905.J.Burnet: Greek Philosophy : Thales to Plato. Macmillan,

1914.

The following are important editions :J. Adam : The Republic. 2 vols. Camb. Univ. Press, 1902.W. H. Thompson: The Phaedrus. Bell, 1868.

The Gorgias. Bell, 1871,R. D. Archer-Hind : The Pliaedo. Macmillan, 2nd ed., 1894.

The Timaeus. Macmillan, 1888.J.Burnet. The Phaedo. Clarendon Press, 1911.L. Campbell : Tfie Theaetetus. Clarendon Press, 1883.

T/ie Sophistes and Poiiticus. Clarendon Press,1867.E S. Thompson : The Meno. Macmillan, 1901.E. B. England: The Laws. 2 vols. Manchester Univ.

Press, 1921.


25/525

CHARMIDES


26/525


27/525

INTRODUCTION TO THE CHARMIDESThe subject of this dialogue is the virtue whose

various aspects we may approach in English withthe words " temperance," " sobriety," " modera-tion," or " discretion," but for which our language,after centuries of analysis and definition havenarrowed the application of ethical terms, has nowno constant equivalent. The first of these words," temperance," has been used throughout thepresent translation ; but it is necessary to notethat the intellectual element in the Greek \irtueof " temperance " is not only recognizable from thebeginning of the conversation, but increasinglyprominent as the argument proceeds. The Greeksalways tended to regard a moral quahty as a stateof the reasoning mind; and Socrates' particular treat-ment of " temperance " in this discussion impHesthat he and his circle were even inclined to identifyit with a kind of practical ^visdom or prudence.^An attentive reader will find no difficulty in per-ceiving the sahent features of " temperance "distinct understanding of it as a whole is just whatthe speakers themselves are seekingat each turnof the conversation.

1 auxppoavvt], indeed, though it came to mean somethinglike our "temperance," originally meant "soundness ofmind," " wholeness or health of the faculty of thought

8


28/525

PLATOThe handsome youth Charmides, whom Socrates

meets in a wrestling-school at the beginning of thePcloponnesian War (432 B.C.), traces his descentthrough his father Glaucon to Dropides, a friend andkinsman of Solon ; his mother was a sister of Pyri-lampes, who was noted for his stature and beauty.Critias, son of Glaucon's brother Callaeschrus, andthus first cousin to Charmides, is a man of matureage, for he appears as his cousin's guardian : hebecame famous, or rather infamous, later on as oneof the Thirty Tyrants ; and together with Charmideshe fell fighting for despotism against democracy in404 B.C. But of these grim and dismal doings,which filled Plato (then a youth of twenty-three)with a horror of Athenian politics as conceived andconducted at that time, there is no hint in thisbrilliant scene of healthful training and ingenuousdebate. Plato's own mother, Perictione, was Char-mides' sister, and he seems to record here withunmixed pride the goodly connexions of his family,from the standpoint of that earlier time of his child-hood. He chooses his uncle Charmides as offeringa likely instance, in the flower of his youth, of ahealthy, well-conditioned mind in a handsome, well-developed body.As soon as Socrates catches sight of the youth,

he is fired with admiration of his grace. But theserious interest of Socrates is fixed, as ever, on themind of this attractive person, and he proceeds atonce to question him on the state of his " soul

"and the nature of that " temperance " which isnecessary for the well-being of the whole humanorganism. Two suggestions of Charmides thattemperance is a quiet or sedate kind of conduct,


29/525

INTRODUCTION TO THE CHARMIDESand that it is a feeling of modestyare in tm-ndisproved by Socrates ; a third definition, supportedby and apparently derived from Critiasthat it isdoing one's o^vn businessleads Socrates to insist,in his habitual way, on the importance of knowingwhat one is doing, with the result that Critias givesa fourth definitionself-knowledge (164.-5). Socratestries to find out what exactly is the thing knownby means of temperance, and so procured by it,as health is by medicine and buildings by archi-tecture. Critias replies that temperance is dis-tinguished from all other kinds of knowledge bybeing the science of all the sciences, includingitself (166). But Socrates shows the difficulty ofconceiving of any function or faculty as appUedto itself; it seems to require some separate object(168-9). He doubts, therefore, if there can be suchcognition of cognition ; and even supposing this ispossible, how about cognition of non-cognition,which was a part of the suggested nature of temper-ance (169) ? But altogether this view of the matteris too aridly intellectual, and of no practical value,for it fails to include a knowledge of what will bebeneficial or useful (172-3). We find that whatwe really require is a knowledge of good and evil(174), and it does not appear that temperance isanything Hke this at all. In the end, we are notonly left without a satisfactory answer to our ques-tion, but have rashly hazarded some improbablestatements by the way.Such is the bare outhne of this interesting, if

inconclusive, discussion. Plato's main object incomposing the dialogue was to exhibit and recom-mend the process of attaining, or endeavouring to


30/525

PLATOattain, a clear notion of an ordinary moral quality ;and as the difficulties accumulate, he takes theopportunity of enforcing his master's tenet thatall human virtue and well-being must be based onknowledge. Our curiosity is first started in onedirection, and then whetted and turned in another.The seemingly profitless search is so conducted thatwe are drawn, as audience of the little drama, topartake in a clarifying exercise of the mind, andwe come away eager to analyse and refine ourmoral ideals. The need of understanding and co-ordinating the fundamental conceptions and con-ventions of society is the dominant theme of Plato'searlier vnritings : the scene and subject of eachconversation are in effect quite casual, and theefforts of the speakers have no relation to whatthey may have said yesterday or may say to-morrow.Thus the suggestion (161 c), that temperance is" doing one's own business," is treated here as apuzzling riddle, and is lightly dismissed with someunfair play with the scope of the word " doing " :whereas this very suggestion is seriously advancedin the Republic (433, 496, 550) as a definition ofjustice. In the same way " self-knowledge "(another definition of temperance) is here pro-nounced to be impossible, and even if possible,useless (166) : but elsewhere we often find Platoinsisting, vnth earnest eloquence, on the necessityand high value of self-knowledge. In the Ckarmides,however, Socrates does not stay to develop thatfamiliar theme : for the moment he is only con-cerned to point out a difficulty involved in thesuggestion as applied to temperance. Where hedoes come to an expectant pause, and hints at the


31/525

INTRODUCTION TO THE CHARMIDESright direction for further progress in the search,is in the demand for a cognition of good and evil(174), although this happens to be outside the suj)-posed limits of temperance. The train of reasoninghere is briefly this : granted that knowledge mustbe a main constituent of the \'irtue of temperance,such knowledge cannot merely act or revolve uponitself; it must have relation to some externalsphere, and what we require is a knowledge of goodand e\il in the ends or aims of our conduct, superiorto any particular knowledge or science pursued inour ordinary practical life. This di\Tsion of sciencesinto the theoretical and the practical is resumed in theGorgias. It is only just mentioned here, and sofar " the good " is nothing more august or importantthan the Socratic conception of " the useful."We may perhaps regret that in disposing ofCharmides' first suggestion Socrates commits thelogical blunder of arguing that, because temperanceand quickness are both honourable, therefore quick-ness is temperate (159 ) No doubt Charmides'failure to protest at this point was brought out indiscussion at the Academy. Plato would perhapsexcuse himself by sapng that when he wrote theCharmides he was more intent on intellectual dramathan on logical accuracy. He has certainly dis-played remarkable skill in bringing out the twocharacters of Charmides and Critias in the naturalcourse of the conversation ; and it is worth observing,besides, how the vividness of his portraiture servesto emphasize, by contrast, the impersonal, dis-passionate nature of reason and truth (166 c, 175 d).


32/525

XAPMIAH2[h nEPI 2n'J>P02TNH2" nEIPA2TIK02]

TA TOT AIAAOrOT nPOZfilU2nKPATH2, XAIPE*nN, KPITIA2, XAPMIAH2

p. 153 "H/cojLiev rij rrporepaia eaTTcpag e/c noTeiSata?(XTTO Tov CTTparoTTeSov, OLOV Se Sto. ^(^povov ai'Yp.evogdafxevcjos fjo, eirl ra? cruvrjdeLs Siarpt^dg. Kai St)Kal els rrjv Tavpeov TraXalarpav rrjv KaravriKpvrod rrfjs BaalXrjs lepov clcrrjXOov, /cat avrodiKareXa^ov ttovv ttoXXovs, rovs fiev Kat ayvcorasifMOL, rovs 8e TrXeiarovs yvcopifMovs Kai fxe cosB elSov elaiovra i^ aTrpociSoKT^rov, evOvs TToppcoQevr)a7Tdt,ovTO dXXos dXXoOev Xaipe^cuv Se, are /catfxavLKOs ciiv, dvaTTTjSrjaas e/c fxeaojv eOei irpos fie,/cat fiov Xa^ofMevos rijs x^tpos", *^ Sco/c/Dare?, ^ 8OS, TTcbs eacodrjs e/c rrjs p-dxi^s; dXiyov 8e TrpivTjfjids aTTievai p-d-)(r] eyeyovei ev rfj HoTetSaia, t]vdprt rjaav oi TrjBe TreTTUcr/x.evot.

^ A Corinthian colony in Chalcidice which was a tributaryally of Athens, and revolted from her in 433 b.c. In thenext year an Athenian force met and fought a Pelopon-nesian force at Potidaea, and then laid siege to the city.Thus began the Peloponnesian War.8


33/525

CHARMIDES[or on temperance : tentative]

CHARACTERSSocBATzs, Chaerephon, Ceitia3, Chahmides

We arrived yesterday evening from the army atPotidaea,^ and I sought with delight, after an absenceof some time, my wonted conversations. Accord-ingly I went into the wrestling-school of Taureas,^opposite the Queen's shrine,^ and there I came uponquite a number of people, some of whom were un-known to me, but most of whom I knew. And assoon as they saw me appear thus unexpectedly, theyhailed me from a distance on every side ; but Chaere-phon, hke the mad creature that he is, jumped upfrom their midst and ran to me, and grasping me bythe hand

Socrates, he said, how did you survive the battle ?(Shortly before we came away there had been abattle at Potidaea, of which the people here had onlyjust had news.)

* A professional trainer. There was a shrine of Basile, or the Queen (of whomnothing is known), some way to the south of the Acropolis.

Gf. Frazer, Pausanias, ii. p. 203.9


34/525

PLATO153 ,,,,,,, , , ,Kat iyoj TTpos avrov OLTroKpivoficvos, Ovrcoat,

(f)rjv, ojs cru opas.Kai fjuTjv TJyyeXral ye Sevpo, (f>r}, rj re fioLXV '^^^'^C laxvpa yeyovevai /cat ev avrfj ttoAAous' tcov yvcopLfMajvredvdvai.Kat eTneiKOis, rjv 8' eyco, dXrjOrj a.TT'qyyeXTai.Hapeyevov fiev, -q 8' os, rfj P'd-XV*UapeyevoiJirjv.Aevpo St^, eiasottcjos exot rd vvv, TrepL re r&v veoiv, el rives evavrots hiaêpovres r} aoaLveraLSe p.oL /cat avrds eyyvs r]Sr] ttov eivai trpoauov."EoTt 8e, rjv 8' eycL, rls re /cat rov;Oladd TTOV (TV ye, ej>rj, dAA' ovTTOi ev iÂt/cta rjV

irpiv ae dmevat,, âpp.L8rjv rov rov TXavKcovos rovB rjpierepov deiov vtov, ep,6v 8e dveifjiov.018a pievroi vr} Ata, "^v 8' eyc6* ov ydp ri âvXos

10


35/525

CHARMIDESIn the state in which you see me, I replied.It has been reported here, you know, said he, thatthe battle was very severe, and that many of our

acquaintance have lost their lives in it.Then the report, I rephed, is pretty near the truth.You were present, he asked, at the fighting ?I was present.Then sit down here, he said, and give us a full

account ; for as yet we have had no clear report ofit all. And with that he led me to a seat by Critias,son of Callaeschrus. So I sat down there and greetedCritias and the rest, and gave them all the news fromthe battlefield, in answer to their various questions ;each had his inquiry to make.When we had had enough of such matters, I inmy turn began to inquire about affairs at home, howphilosophy was doing at present, and whether any ofthe rising young men had distinguished themselvesfor wisdom or beauty or both. Then Critias, lookingtowards the door, for he saw some young fellows whowere coming in with some railing at each other, anda crowd of people following on behind them, saidConcerning the beauties, Socrates, I expect you willget your knowledge at once : for these who arecoming in are in fact forerunners and lovers of theperson who is held, for the moment at least, to be thegreatest beauty ; and he himself, I imagine, mxistby now be nearly upon us.Who is he, I asked, and whose son ?You must know, he replied, but he was not yetgrown up when you went away,Charmides, son of

our uncle Glaucon, and my cousin.I do know, to be sure, I said ; for he was not to

11


36/525

PLATO154

ouSe Tore rjv ert ttols oiv, vvv S' ot/xat rrov v /xaAaav ^'817 fxeipoLKiov lt].AuTLKa, VK


37/525

CHARMIDESbe despised even then, when he was still a child, andnow, I suppose, he will be quite a youth by this time.You will know this moment, he said, both howmuch and to what purpose he has grown. And justas he spoke these words, Charmides entered.Now I, my good friend, am no measurer : I am amere " white line "^ in measuring beautiful people,for almost everyone who has just grown up appearsbeautiful to me. Nay and this time, moreover, theyoung man appeared to me a marvel of stature andbeauty ; and all the rest, to my thinking, were in lovewith him, such was their astonishment and confusionwhen he came in, and a number of other lovers werefollowing in liis train. On the part of men hke us itwas not so surprising ; but when I came to observethe boys I noticed that none of them, not even thesmallest, had eyes for anything else, but that theyall gazed at him as ifhe were a statue. Then Chaere-phon called me and saidHow does the youth strikeyou, Socrates ? Has he not a fine face ?Immensely so, I replied.Yet if he would consent to strip, he said, you would

think he had no face, he has such perfect beauty ofform.And these words of Chaerephon were repeated bythe rest. Then,By Heracles ! I said, what an irre-sistible person you make him out to be, if he has butone more thinga httle thingbesides.What ? said Critias.

If in his soul, I repBed, he is of good grain. AndI should think, Critias, he ought to be, since he is ofyour house.marking off measurements on tohite stone or marble : cf.Soph. fr. 306.

B l


38/525

PLATO154

AAA*, (f)rj, TTOLVV KoXos KTCtt dyados ioTL Kolravra.Ti ovv, e(f>rjv, ovk OLTTcSvaaixev avrov avro rovro

Kat, eueaaafjieda irporepov rov etSovs; ttolvtcos ydp7TOV rrjXiKOVTOs cov tJBt] ideXet SiaXeyeaOai.Kat rravv ye, e07j o Kptrias", eTret rot, Koi eari

155 (f)t.X6(TO(f>6s re Kai, (hs BoKet dXXois re Kol iavrtp,TTaVV TTOir^TLKOgTovTo fMv, '^v 8' ya), c5 0tAe Kptrta, iroppoiOev

VjjLLV TO KoXov VTTO.pxî' diTO TTJs ôXcovos CTuyyeveias.aXXd rC OVK iTreSet^ds fiot, rov veaviav KoXiaasoevpo; ovoe yap dv ttov et en irvyxo-ve^ vecoreposwv, aiaxpov dv -^v avrco StaXdyeadac rjp.LV ivavrioyye aov, imrpoTTOV re a/xa Kac dveifiiov ovros.

'AAAo. KaXdjs, ^(f>r], XeycLS, /cat /caAou/xev avrov.B Kai a/xa rrpog rov aKoXovdov, Hal, (f)7], fcaAetXap/xtSr^v, elTTOJV on ôvXofxaL avrov larpd) av-arrjaai nepL rrjs daOeveias rjs 7Tp


39/525

CHARMIDESAh, he said, he is right fair and good in that way

also.Why then, I said, let us strip that very part of himand view it first, instead of his form ; for anyhow, atthat age, I am sure he is quite ready to have a dis-cussion.Very much so, said Critias ; for, I may say, he is in

fact a philosopher, and alsoas others besides him-self considerquite a poet.That, my dear Critias, I said, is a gift which yourfamily has had a long while back, through your kin-ship with Solon. But why not call the young manhere and show him to me ? For surely, even if hewere younger still, there could be no discredit in ourha\ing a talk with him before you, who are at oncehis guardian and his cousin.You are quite right, he said, and we will call him.Thereupon he said to his attendant,Boy, callCharmides ; tell him I want him to see a doctorabout the ailment with which he told me he wastroubled yesterday. Then, turning to me,Youknow, he has spoken lately of having a headache,said Critias, on getting up in the morning : now whyshould you not represent to him that you know acure for headache ?Why not ? I said : only he must come.Oh, he will be here, he said.And so it was ; for he came, and caused much

laughter, because each of us who were seated maderoom for him by pushing hard at his neighbour soas to have him sitting beside himself, until at eitherend of the seat one had to stand up, and wetumbled the other off sideways ; and he came andsat down between me and Critias. But here, my

15


40/525

PLATO155

êro. ivravOa fievroi, c5 (ftiXe, iyco "qSr] yyiropoxxuKai yLOV Tj rrpoodev Opaavri^s i^KeK07TTO, rjv etxoviyd) cos Trdvv paSicog avrco StaXcôfjievos' evreiSi) 8e,(f)paaavros rov Kpcriov ore iyci) etrjv 6 to (f)dpp,aKov

J) TTLCTTOLnevos, ive^Xcipd ri fjbot, roig 6(j>daXiiolsdpi.rj-)(âv6v rt olov /cat dvqyero ws ipcorijacov, Kalol iv rfj TraXa'iGTpa drravres Trepueppeov 'q/xas kvkXo)KOfiL^fj, Tore hi], CO ycvvdSa, etSdv re to, ivTos tovi/xaTLov /cat icjjXeyofirjv /cat ovkt^ iv ip,avTov rjv/cat epofMiaa cro(f)coTaTov etiât tov KuStW rdipcoTLKo., OS eliTev inl kclXov Xeycxiv TratSo?, dXXcpVTTOTLdei-Levos, " evXaêlodai jxrj KarevavTa XiovTosve^pov iXdovTa pôlpav alpeZadai Kpecov^* avTos yapE ju.ot iSoKovv VTTO TOV TOLovTov dpcfxnaTos iaXcoKevac.o/Jbcos 8e avTov ipcoTâavTos, t iTTLcrraCiJbrjv to tt]sK(f>aXrjs


41/525

CHARMIDESfHend, I began to feel perplexed, and my former con-fidence in looking forward to a quite easy time intalking with him had been knocked out of me. Andwhen, on Critias telHng him that it was I who knewthe cMie, he gave me such a look with his eyes aspasses description, and was just about to plunge intoa question, and when all the people in the wrestling-school surged round about us on every sidethen,ah then, my noble friend, I saw inside his cloak andcaught fire, and could possess myself no longer ; andI thought none was so wise in love-matters as Cydias,^who in speaking of a beautiful boy recommends some-one to " beware of coming as a fawn before the hon,and being seized as his portion of flesh " ; for I toofelt I had fallen a prey to some such creature. How-ever, when he had asked me if I knew the cure forheadache, I somehow contrived to answer that Iknew.Then what is it ? he asked.So I told him that the thing itself was a certain

leaf, but there was a charm to go wdth the remedy ;and if one uttered the charm at the moment of itsapphcation, the remedy made one perfectly wellbut without the charm there was no efficacy in theleaf.Then I will take down the charm, said he, from youin writing.Do you prefer, I asked, to get my consent first, orto do without it ?

This made him laugh, and he said : To get yourconsent, Socrates.Very well, I said ; and are you certain of myname ?Unless I am at fault, he replied ; for there is no

17


42/525

PLATO156

eoTLV ev Toils rifierepois 'qXtKicorais, fi^fivrj/jbac 8eeywye Kol Trat? cov Kptrta rwSe avvovra ac.

KoAcDs" ye av, rjv 8' eyco, ttoicDv jxaXKov yap aotB TTapprjcnaaofxai, Trepl rrjg eTrqyBrjg, oia rvyxo-veiovaa' apri 8' rjTTopovv, rivi rponq) aoi vheLâip,7]vTTjV Swafiiv avrrjs. eart yap, o) âpfilSr^, roLavrT]Ota fir] SvvaaOai, rrjv K(f)aXrjv jjlovov vyid TTOietv,aAA' waTTep lacjs TJSr] Kal av a/oj/coas" rcov ayadatvlarpcbv, eTTfiSav ns avrols TrpocreXdrj rovs 6(f)daX-fjLovs dXyciJv, XeyovcTL ttov, ore ovx otov re avrovsfMovovs eTTLXGLpelv rovs o(f)6aXp,ovs idadai, aXXavayKoXov eLt) dfia koI rrjv KaXrjv deparreveiv,C L jxeXXoi Kal rd rcov 6p,fidrcov v eêiv /cat av rorrfv K(f)aXrjV oteadai av rtore Qepa-nevoai avrrjv e^'iavrfjs dvev dXov rov acojiaros ttoXXtiv dvotav etvai.CK Srj rovrov rov Xoyov Siatrats em Trdv ro awfxarpcTTOfxevoL ficrd rov oXov ro fiepos ernxjeipovaidepaneveiv re /cat Idadau' 'q ovk ^'cr^Tjaai ort, ravraovrcjos Xiyovai re Kal )(ei;

Yldvv ye, e


43/525

CHARMIDESlittle talk of you among the set of our age, and Iremember as a mere child the sight ofyou in companywith Critias here.That is a good thing, I said : for I shall speak morefreely to you about the charm, and its real nature ;just now I was at a loss for the way to apprise youof its power. For it is of such a nature, Charmides,that it cannot cure the head alone ; I daresay youhave yourself sometimes heard good doctors say, youknow, when a patient comes to them with a pain inhis eyes, that it is not possible for them to attempt acure of his eyes alone, but that it is necessary to treathis head too at the same time, if he is to have his eyesin good order ; and so again, that to expect ever totreat the head by itself, apart from the body as awhole, is utter folly. And on this principle theyapply their regimen to the whole body, and attemptto treat and heal the part along with the whole ; orhave you not observed that this is what they say,and is done in fact ?

Certainly I have, he said.And you consider it well said, and accept theprinciple ?Most assuredly, he said.Then I, on hearing his approval, regained my

courage ; and Httle by httle I began to muster upmy confidence again, and my spirit began to re-kindle. So I said,Such, then, Charmides, is thenature of this charm. I learnt it on campaign overthere, from one of the Thracian physicians of Zal-moxis,^ who are said even to make one immortal.This Thracian said that the Greeks were right in

* A legendary hero of the Thracian race of the Getae ; cf.Herodotus, iv. 91-6.19


44/525

PLATO156

eXeyov, KaXws Xeyoiew aXXa ZidX/JLO^Lg, ^(f>r), Ae'yetE o rjfjuerepos âatXevs, deog lov, on a)a7Tp 6(f>daX-fxovs dvV KefjâXrjg ov Set inLXîpetv Idadai ovdeK(f)aXrjv dvev acLjJiaTos, ovrtos ovhe ad>fia dvev^v)(7Js, aXXd TOVTO Kol atriov etrj rov hia


45/525

CHARMIDESadvising as I told you just now : " but Zalmoxis,"he said, " our king, who is a god, says that as youought not to attempt to cure eyes without head, orhead without body, so you should not treat bodywithout soul " ; and this was the reason why mostmaladies evaded the physicians of Greece thatthey neglected the whole, on which they ought tospend their pains, for if this were out of order itwas impossible for the part to be in order. For allthat was good and evil, he said, in the body and inman altogether was sprung from the soul, and flowedalong from thence as it did from the head into theeyes. Wherefore that part was to be treated firstand foremost, if all was to be well with the head andthe rest of the body. And the treatment of the soul,so he said, my wonderful friend, is by means of certaincharms, and these charms are words of the right sort :by the use of such words is temperance engenderedin our souls, and as soon as it is engendered andpresent we may easily secure health to the head, andto the rest of the body also. Now in teaching methe remedy and the charms he remarked," Letnobody persuade you to treat his head with thisremedy, unless he has first submitted his soul for youto treat with the charm. For at present," he said," the cure of mankind is beset with the error ofcertain doctors who attempt to practise the onemethod without the other." And he most parti-cularly enjoined on me not to let anyone, howeverwealthy or noble or handsome, induce me to disobey

21


46/525

PLATO157C ijJie Tretcret aAAco? ttolglv, iyoj ovvojjLCjjjiOKa yap

avTO), Kai fj.oL dvdyKT] TTeiOcadatTretao/iat ovv,/cat croL, iav jxev ôvXrj /caret, rds rov êvov ivroXdsTTjv ^vxrjv TTpaJrov Trapaaxetv eTraaai rats rovQpaKos eTTcpooLs, TrpoaoidO) to (f)dpp,aKov rfj Ka-Xfj' el 8e pt,rj, ovK dv exoL/xev 6 re Troiot/xeV aot, c5^t'Ae Xa/5/xtS>].

'A/couaa? ovv [xov 6 Kpirias ravr* elrrovTos,'Epfjbaiov, e(f)r], to Sco/cpares", yeyovos dv etrj rj rrjsK(f)aXrjs aadeveia rtp veaviaKcp, el dvayKaadrjoeTaiD Koi TTjv Sidvoiav Std ttjv KecftaXrjv êXrlcov yeveaOat.Xeyoi fMevTOL aoi, on âppîhrj^ rcbv rjXLKicorwv ovfiovov rfj ISea So/cet Sia(f)epi,v, dXXd Kal avra>rovTcp, oi) (TV (fyy^s ttjv eTrcpSrjv exiv' (f>rjs SecrojepeLV oe rdjv dXXcov Tracrt rot? toiovtols' ovE ydp oljjiaL dXXov ovSeva rcov ivddSe paStco? dvex^tv eTTtSetfat, TToZai hvo oi/ciat avveXdovaai elsravrov rcvv 'AdrjvrjaLV e/c rcov elKorcov koXXlco dv/cat dpLeivoi yevvijaeiav rj e^ wv av yeyovas. rj reydp TTarpcpa vjmv olKia, rj Kptrtoy rov ApcoTrcSov,Kal V7T* ÂvaKpeovros /cat vtto YioXojvos /cat wtt'dXXcov TToXXcov TTOiTjrcov eyKeKOjp.LaapLevri irapa-heSorai ripXv, cos Si.a


47/525

CHARMIDEShim. So I, since I have given him my oath, and mustobey him, will do as he bids ; and if you agree tosubmit your soul first to the effect of the Thraciancharms, according to the stranger's injunctions, Iwll apply the remedy to your head : otherwise weshall be at a loss what to do with you, my dearCharmides.Then Critias, when he heard me say this, re-marked,This affection of the head, Socrates, willturn out to be a stroke of luck for the young man, ifhe is to be compelled on account of his head to im-prove his understanding also. However, let me tellyou, Charmides is considered to excel his comradesnot only in appearance, but also in that very thingwhich you say is produced by your charm : temper-ance you say it is, do you not ?

Certainly, I replied.Then be assured, he said, that he is considered tobe far and away the most temperate person nowahve, while in every other respect, for a youth of hisage, he is second to none.Why, yes, I said, and it is only right, Channides,that you should excel the rest in all these respects

;for I do not suppose there is anyone else here whocould readily point to a case of any two Athenianhouses uniting together which would be likely toproduce handsomer or nobler offspring than thosefrom which you are sprung. For your father's house,which comes from Critias, son of Dropides, has beencelebrated by Anacreon and Solon and many otherpoets, so that it is famed by tradition among us aspre-eminent in beauty and virtue and all else thatis accounted happiness ; and then, your mother'shouse is famous in the same way, for of Pyrilampes,

23


48/525

PLATO158

ov ovhels TcDv V rfj rjTTetpa) Xdyerat KoXXicov /catlieil,oiv dvrjp Soâi elvai, ogolkis e/cetvo? ^ irapafieyav âaiXea r) 77a/)' dXXov rivd rcov iv rfj "qTreipcpTTpeaêviov a^t/cero, crvjXTTaaa 8e avn] r] oiKia ou8-^ ev TTys erepa? VTToSeearepa. k St) toiovtwv yeyo-vora eiKos ere et? Trdvra Trpwrov eivai. ra /xev owB 6p(x>iXva rijs Iheas, c5 ^t'Ae Trat rAau/ccovos", So/cer?fxot ovSeva rcov rrpo aov iv ovSevl VTTOê^rjKcvat^'el Se St) /cat TT/aoj aci)cf)pocnjvriv /cat Trpo? roAAa/cara rot' rouSe Xoyov LKavcbs 7T(f)VKas, jiaKapiov ere,rjv S' eyo), co ^t'Ae âpixihr], rj fM-qr-qp eri/CTev. e;)êiS' ovv ovrcos. t /X6V CTot i^Sry Trdpecmv, cos XeyeiKptTtas oSe, aco(/)poavvrj , /cat et (T(x)(f>p(jov LKavd>s,ovSev ert crot eSet oy're tcDv ZaA/ô^tSos' ouVerwv 'AâptSo? Tou 'YTrepôpeov incpBcov, dAA' aurd

C crot av rjSrj Sore'ov etT^ ro T'^? KecfyaXrjs ^dppLaKovel S' en Tovro)v eTnSerjs elvai So/cet?, eTracrreovTrpo rrjs rod âp^dKov hoaeojs. avros ovv p.01etVe, TTorepov opuoXoyeZs rcode /cat ^r]s LKavcos rjSr]/cat aax^poavvrjs jxerexeiv t] evSerjs elvai;

'Avept'dpidaas ovv 6 Xap/xi'STj? Trpwrov /xev ertkoXXlojv e^dvy)- /cat yap ro alqxvvrrjXov avrov rfjrjXtKLa eTTpeiJ/ev evretra /cat ovk ayevvdJs dTreKpivaro'L7T yap on ov paSiov etrj ev ru> irapovn ovdôfMoXoyetv ovre iâpvo) elvai rd ipcorco/Jieva. idvD fJ-^v ydp, rj S' OS, jMrj (f)d> elvai acocjjpwv, dp,a pievdroTTOV avrov Kad iavrov roiavra Xeyeiv, a/xa SeKat Kptrtav rdv'Se i/jevSrj eTTiSei^co /cat aAAoujTToXXovs, ols SoKco etvai ac6(f)pcov, ws 6 rovrov

^ iiroPe^rjKivai Madvig : virepê^XijK^vai mss.^ A fabulous hero of the far north, to whom oracles andcharms were ascribed by the Greeks ; c/. Herodotus, iv. 36.

24


49/525

CHARMIDESyour uncle, it is said that no one in all the continentwas considered to be his superior in beauty orstature, whenever he came as envoy to the greatking or anyone else in Asia, and his house as awhole is no whit inferior to the other. Sprungfrom such people, it is to be supposed that youwould be first in all things. And indeed, as regardsyour visible form, dear son of Glaucon, I considerthat nowhere have you fallen behind any of yourancestors. But if your nature is really rich intemperance and those other things, as our friendhere says, blessed is the son, dear Charmides, Iexclaimed, that your mother has borne in youHowever, the case stands thus : if you alreadypossess temperance, as Critias here declares, and youare sufficiently temperate, then you never had anyneed of the charms of Zalmoxis or of Abaris theHyperborean,^ and might well be given at oncethe remedy for the head ; but if you prove to bestill lacking that virtue, we must apply the charmbefore the remedy. So tell me yourself whetheryou agree with our friend, and can say that you arealready sufficiently pro\ided with temperance, orare deficient in it ?At this Charmides blushed and, for one thing,looked more beautiful then ever, for his modestybecame his years ; and then, too, he answeredmost ingenuously, sapng it was no easy matterat the moment either to admit or to deny the wordsof the question. For if, he went on, I say I am nottemperate, not only is it a strange thing to say againstoneself, but I shall at the same time be taxingwith untruth both Critias and many others whoconsider me to be temperate, as he gives out ; while

25


50/525

PLATO158

Xoyos' eav 8' av cf)aj /cat ifiamov iirawch, icrcasTTa)(6s (f>avlTai' (Lore ovk epô) o tl aoi arro-KplvcofiaiKat iyoj ctTTOv ort {jlol eiKora (f)aLV7) Xiyeiv, co

Ji-apfiiSr} . /cat {xot. So/cet, rjv 8' iyco, kolv^ av elvaiOKeTTTeov, elrc /ce/crT^crat etre [xr] o TTVv6dvofx.ai,, tva

E jLfjyTC au dvayKa^Tj Xiyeiv d firj jSouAet, /liTjr' au eytuacr/ceTTTCos" ctti tt^v LaTpiKrjv TpeTTCOfiai. el ovv aoi(f>LXov, iBiXio QKOTTelv fMerd aov' et Se fx-q, idv.AAAa irdvTCxiv //.aAtara, e^y], (f>iXov' c5ctt tovtovye eveKa, otttj avros otei êXnov^ aKexjsaadai, raiirr)Cr/C077t.

TjjSe roivvv, e^T]v eydt, hoKel fxai êXrCcrrrj el-vaL 7] aKeipis Trepl avrov. hrjXov yap ort,, et aoi,

159 TrapeoTL aaxjypoavvr], eêLs rt, Trepl avTTJs So^dêiv.dvdyKrj ydp ttov evovaav avrrjv, elTrep eveartv,atadrjaiv riva Trapexeiv, e^ rjs hoâ av rts crot TreplavTTJs etrj, 6 ri eari /cat ottolov tl t] aco(f)poavv'q-'q OVK olei;"Kycoye, e^rj, oip,ai.OvKovv ToCro ye, e(f>rjv, o otet, eTrei^rjTrep eXXrjvi-

êiv eTriaraaai, kov eiTTOis St^ttou avro 6 ri aoctfialverai."law?, e^''?."Iva Toivvv roTrdaoypiev etre aoi eveariv etre p.'q,

eiTTe, rjv 8' iyco, ri, (f)fjs eivai aco(f)poavv'qv Kararrjv arjv Soâv.

B Kat OS ro p.ev Trpcorov coKvei re /cat ov TrdvvrjOeXev drtoKpivaadai' eTteira pievroi etTret' on olhoKoi aco(f)poavvr] etvat ro /cocr/xtcos" Trdvra TrpdrreipKai 'âvxfj, v re rais oSois âhiêiv /cat Sta-

* /SAriov Heindorf : êXrlu ms3.26


51/525

CHARMIDESif, on the other hand, I say I am, and praise myself,it will probably be found distasteful ; so that Icannot see what answer I am to give you.Then I said : Your answer is a natural one, inmy opinion, Charmides ; and I think, I went on,that we must join in inquiring whether you possessthe thing I am asking after, or not, in order thatneither you may be forced to say what you do not\\-ish, nor I on my part may recklessly try my handat medicine. So if it is agreeable to you, I am readyto inquire with you ; but, if it is not, to let it alone.Why, nothing, he said, could be more agreeableto me : so far as that goes, therefore, inquire inwhatever way you think we had better proceed.Then this is the way, I said, in which I considerthat our inquiry into this matter had best be con-ducted. Now, it is clear that, if you have temper-ance with you, you can hold an opinion about it.For being in you, I presume it must, in that case,afford some perception from which you can formsome opinion of what temperance is, and what kindof thing it is : do you not think so ?

I do, he replied.And since you understand the Greek tongue, Isaid, you can tell me, I suppose, your view of thisparticular thought of yours ?

I daresay, he said.Then in order that we may make a guess whetherit is in you or not, tell me, I said, what you sayof temperance according to your opinion.He at first hung back, and was not at all ^nlhngto answer : but presently he said that, to his mind,temperance was doing everything orderly andquietlywalking in the streets, talking, and doing

27


52/525

PLATO159

XeyeaOai, Kal ra dXXa iravra wcraurcos" TToietv /catfAot So/cei, e^^, crvXX-q^Srjv rjcruxtoTTjs ris elvat oipcoras.

A/3 ovv, "qv o eyoi, ev Aeyet?; (pacn ye rot, coâpfMiS-q, rovs rjarvxtovs aco^povas elvat' tScDixevBrj i TL Xeyovcrtv. ciTre yap p.oi, ov rcov KoXaJv

C pi>4vroL 7] ao}(f)pocnjvr] icrrl;Yldvv ye, ^^t).Yiorepov ovv KoiXXcaTOV ev ypafMfJiarLcrTOV rdo/xota ypdfifiara ypd(j>eiv ra^v ^ V^^XfJ >Tt 8' dvayiyvcoGKeiv ; ra^^cos "q ^paheois;Taxecu?.Kat p,ev 8r] /cat ro KLdapitêtv raêoys koX to

rraXaieiv oêcos ttoXv koXXiov tov rjavxfj T /catPpaSecos;Nat.Tt Se TWKreveiv re Kal 7ray/cparta^tv; ov^

waavTOJS ;Yldvv ye.Qelv 8e /cat dXXeaOai /cat ret rov acofiarosD dvavra epya, ov rd fxev oêcos /cat ra)(v yiyvo-

fieva rov KaXov iori, rd Se [fipaSeaY t^pycs re/cat Tjavxi'O' tov alaxpov;Waiverat.OatVcrat apa tj/jllv, e(f>rjv eyco, Kara ye ro acofia

ov ro rjavxt-ov, dAAd ro rdxiorov Kal o^vrarovKoXXicxrov ov. Tj ydp;Yldvv ye.'H Se ye cr(jo(f)poavv7] KaXov tl ^v;Nat.

^ PpaSiu seel. Heindorf.28


53/525

CHARMIDESeverything else of that kind ; and in a word, he said,I think the thing about which you ask may be calledquietness.

Well, I said, are you right there ? They dosay, you know, Charmides, that quiet people aretemperate : so let us see if there is anything inwhat they say. Tell me, is not temperance, how-ever, among the honourable things ?To be sure, he said.Well, which is most honoiu-able at the writing-

master's, to write the same sort of letters quicklyor quietly ?

Quickly.And in reading, to do it quickly or slowly ?Quickly.And so, in the same way, to play the lyre quickly,

or to wrestle nimbly, is far more honourable thanto do it quietly and slowly ?

Yes.And what of boxing, alone or combined withN^Testling ? Is it not the same there too ?To be sure.And in running and leaping and all activities ofthe body, are not nimble and quick movementsaccounted honourable, whUe sluggish and quietones are deemed disgraceful ?

Apparently.So we find, I said, that in the body, at least, it

is not quietness, but the greatest quickness andnimbleness that is most honourable, do we not ?Certainly.And temperance was an honourable thing ?Yes.

29


54/525

PLATO159 Ov roivvv Kara, ye ro acofia ly rjavxt-OTris av dAA'

17 raxvrrjs aoi(f}poviaTepov etrj, ineiSr] koXov tjaa)(f>poavv7]

"Eot/cei', (f>ri.E Tt 8e; "^v 8' iyio, evfiaOia KoiXXiov rj SvafxaOia;Ey/xaîa."EffTt Se y', (f>-qv, 7) fikv cvfiadla raxecos fMavdd-

Vt,v, rj Se SvafJiadia rjcrvxjj Kal ^paSdojg;Nat'.AiSdaKeLV Se aAAov 01) raxews /caAAiov Kai

(T68pa fMaXXov T] rjavxfj re Kal ^paSeojs;Nai'.

^ ^Tt Se; dvafiifivrjaKeadcu /cat fiefjbvrjadai '^crvxfjre /cat ^paSecos /coAAtov ^ arj.VKOvv TTavra, rjv o eyoj, (o AâppLior), rjfXLV /catrd TTepl rrjv ipvxrjv /cat rd irepl rd aajfia, rd rov

* ijavxtÔ'Tos Cobet : rjffvxuraros MSS.SO


55/525

CHARMIDESThen in the body, at least, it is not quietness but

quickness that will be the more temperate thing,since temperance is honourable.So it seems, he said.Well now, I went on ; in learning, is facility themore honourable, or difficulty ?FaciUty.And facihty in learning, I said, is learning quickly,

and difficulty in learning is learning quietly andslowly ?

Yes.And is it not more honourable to teach anotherquickly and forcibly, rather than quietly and slowly ?

Yes.Well now, is it more honourable to be reminded

and to remember quietly and slowly, or forciblyand quickly ?

Forcibly, he replied, and quickly.And is not readiness of mind a sort of nimblenessof the soul, not a quietness ?True.And to apprehend what is said, whether at thewTiting-master's or the IjTC-master's or anywhere

else, not as quietly as possible, but as quickly, ismost honourable ?

Yes.Well, and in the searchings of the soul, and in

dehberation, it is not the quietest person, I imagine,or he who dehberates and discovers with difficulty,that is held worthy of praise, but he who does thismost easily and quickly.That is so, he said.Then in all, I said, Charmides, that concerns

either our soul or ova body, actions of quickness and81


56/525

PLATO160

rdxovs T Kol TTJs o^vriqros koXXlo) po(JvvT] dv etrj,oi58' Tjcrvxios 6 (T(x)(f)p(x}v ^Los, K yc Tovrov rovXoyov, e7reiS?7 KaXov avrov Bel etvai ad}(f)pova ovra.C Bvoiv yap Brj rd erepa, ^ ovSap.ov riplv r] ttovv ttovoXiyaxpv at rjcrvxi-oi. Trpd^eis ev rco jSto; /caAAtou?etjydvqaav -^ at rax^Xal re kol laxvpal. el S' ow,Jj


57/525

CHARMIDESnimbleness are found to be more honourable thanthose of slowness and quietness ?

It looks like it, he said.So temperance cannot be a sort of quietness, norcan the temperate Ufe be quiet, by this argumentat least ; since, being temperate, it must be honour-able. For we have these two alternatives : eitherin no cases, or I should think in very few, can we findthat the quiet actions in life are more honourablethan the quick and vigorous ones ; or at all events,my friend, if of the more honourable actions thereare absolutely as many quiet ones as forcible andquick, not even so will temperance be acting quietlyany more than acting forcibly and quickly, eitherin walking or in talking or in any other sphere ;nor will the quiet hfe be more temperate than theunquiet ; since in our argument we assumed thattemperance is an honourable thing, and have foundthat quick things are just as honourable as quietthings.Your statement, he said, Socrates, seems to me

to be correct.Once more then, I went on, Charmides, attendmore closely and look into yourself ; reflect on

the quahty that is given you by the presence oftemperance, and what quahty it must have towork this effect on you. Take stock of all this andtell me, hke a good, brave fellow, what it appearsto you to be.He paused a httle, and after a quite manly effortof self-examination : Well, I think, he said, that

temperance makes men ashamed or bashful, andthat temperance is the same as modesty.

is


58/525

PLATO160

ira, rju o eyo), ov KaAov apri coixoAoyeis rrjvaoj(/)pocTVvr]v elvai;Hdvv y , cf)Tj.OvKovv /cat aya^ot dvSpes ol aaxfjpovesNat.*A/)' ovv av eif] ayadov, o fzr] ayadovs aTrepyd^eraiOv Bijra.Ov ixovov ovv dpa KaXov, dXXd Kai ayadov iariv.

161 "E/ioiye SoKL.Tt ovv; rjv 8' eyco* 'Ofn/jpco ov TTLcrrevcLs KaXcbs

XeycLV, XeyovTL onatSoiS" 8' OVK dyadrj /ce;^p7j/xevaj dvBpl TrapeZvai;"Eycoy', ^>]."EcTTtv dpa, d)9 OLKV, atScbs OVK dyaOov koI

ayadov.OatVerai.Ha)(l)poavvrj 8e ye dyadov, eiTrep dyadovs TTOieZ

ols dv TTapfj, KaKOVS Se /Ji-q.'AAAa p-rjv ovroi ye hoKeZ fMoi ex^tv, co? ctv Aeyet?.OvK dpa a(x>'r}, t5 Sco/cpares", tovtofjikv opdws Xiyeadai- roSe 8e (jKei/jat ri aoi 8o/ceteirat Trept aa)(f)poavv'r)s. dpri yap avjjt,vr]adii]v orjSr] rov rJKOvcra Xeyovros, on acocj^poavvr] dv elr)TO rd lavrov Trpdrreiv. OKOTret ovv rovro etop6d)S aoL 8o/cet Xeyeiv 6 Xeya>v.Kat iyd), ^Q. paapi, (f)r]v, Kptrtoy rouSe aK-qKoasC atrro 7] diXXov rov rwv ao(f>(Jov.

^ /xTj seel. Ast.J4


59/525

CHARMIDESWell now, I asked, did you not admit a moment

ago that temperance is honourable ?Certainly I did, he said.And temperate men are also good ?Yes.Well, can that be good which does not produce

good men ?No, indeed.And we conclude that it is not only honourable,

but good also.I think so.Well then, I said, are you not convinced thatHomer ^ is right in saying

Modesty, no good mate for a needy man ?I am, he said.Then it would seem that modesty is not good,

and good.Apparently.But temperance is good, if its presence makesmen good, and not bad.It certainly seems to me to be as you say.So temperance cannot be modesty, if it is in factgood, while modesty is no more good than ev^il.Why, I think, he said, Socrates, that is correctly

stated ; but there is another view of temperanceon which I would hke to have your opinion. Iremembered just now what I once heard someonesay, that temperance might be doing one's ownbusiness. I ask you, then, do you think he isright in saying this ?You rascal, I said, you have heard it from Critiashere, or some other of our wise men !

Od. xvii. 347.35


60/525

PLATO161

"KoLKev, e^T] 6 Kpirias, aAAow ov yap 8r) ifiov ye.*AAAa Ti 8ia(f)pL, rj S' oj, d Xa/D/xiSryS', (LScu/cpare?, orov rJKovaa;Oi)SeV, -^v S' eycti- Trdvrojs yap ov rovro aKerrriov,oaris avro enrev, oAAa irorepov dXrjOes XeyeraiT] ov.Nw opOoJS Xeyeis, "^ S' og.

Nt) Ata, "qv S' eyco* aAA' et kul evprjaofxev avrooTTYj ye XL, 6avfj,dt,oLp.^ dv aiVty/xart ydp tlvleoiKv."Ort Brj rl ye; e(f>rj."Ort ov Sr^TTov, 7)v S' iyu), fj rd prjixara e^dey^aro,D ravrrj Kai ivoei 6 Xiycov G(0(f)poavv7jv etvai ro rd

avrov 7rpaTTLV. iq av ovSev '^yjj rrpdrreiv rovypa/JLuartaTrjv , orav ypdcjyrj rj dvayiyutoaKj]"Eycoye, rjyovfiat, /xev ovv, ecjyq.AoKel ovv aoL ro avrov ovofjia (movov ypd(j>eLv 6

ypaiJLfiarLcrrrjg /cat dvayiyvojQKeiv , rj v/xas rovgTratSas" SiSacr/cetv, ^ ovSh> rjrrov rd rdJv i)(dpcoviypacjiere r) rd u/xeVepa Kal rd rcbv (f>iXa)v ovofiara;OvSev rjrrov.^H ovv iTToXvTTpayjJbovelre /cat ovk icruxfypoveZreE rovro ^pdjvres;OvSafidJsKat {jirjv ov ra vfierepd ye avrcov eirpdrrere,

etrrep ro ypd(/)eiv vrpdrreiv rl eari /cat rd di^aytyvo)-OKCLV.'AAAa p,r)v eariv.Kat yap ro idadai, c5 eraipe, /cat ro OLKoSofieiv

Kai ro v


61/525

CHARMIDESSeemingly, said Critdas, from some other ; for

indeed he did not from me.But what does it matter, Socrates, said Charmides*from whom I heard it ?Not at all, I replied ; for in any case we have not

to consider who said it, but whether it is a truesaying or no.Now you speak rightly, he said.

Yes, on my word, I said : but I shall be surprisedif we can find out how it stands ; for it looks likea kind of riddle.^Vhy so ? he asked.Because, I replied, presumably the speaker of

the words " temperance is doing one's own business "did not mean them quite as he spoke them. Ordo you consider that the scribe does nothing whenhe Avrites or reads ?

I rather consider that he does something,he replied.And does the scribe, in your opinion, write andread his own name only, and teach you boys to dothe same >\'ith yours ? Or did you write yourenemies' names just as much as your own and yourfriends' ?

Just as much.Well, were you meddlesome or intemperate in

doing this ?Not at all.And you know you were not doing your oAvn

business, if writing and reading are doing something.\Vhy, so they are.And indeed medical work, my good friend, and

building and weaving and producing anything what-ever that is the work of any art, I presimie is doingsomething.

37


62/525

PLATO161

Ildvv ye.Tt ovv; rjv 8' iyo), So/cet dv aoi TToXtg V oIk1~

adai VTTO Tovrov rov vofxov rov KcXevovros toiavrov IfidrLov cKacrrov vj)aiveLV /cat ttXvviv, /catVTroh-qâra aKVTorofji.LV, /cat X-qKvdov /cat crrXey-

162 ytSa /cat rdXXa Trdvra Kara rov avrov Xoyov, rdvfjbev dXXorpioiv jxrj aTrreadai, rd 8e iavrov eKaarovipydtêadai re Kal irpdrreiv

Ou/c epLoiye So/cet, -^ 8' 6g.'AAAo. fMevroi, eriv eyco, aax^povios y oiKOvaa

V dv OLKoZro.Hws 8' ovk; ^"H/ctora ye, ^r], eTrel roi /cat ttovv e8o/cet aoj>os

elvat.Ylavro^ roLvvv fMaXXov, (Ls ifiol 8o/cet, aiVLyp,a

avro TTpovâXev, (Ls ov -xâXeiTov rd rd avrovTrpdrreiv yvcovai, o ri irore ecrrtv.

"locos, (l)rj.Tt ovv dv eXf] TTore rd rd avrov Trparreiv ; epêi?etTretv;Ovk otSa /u.a At" eyoiye, r^V ds' aAA' tcrcu? ou8ei'

KuiXvei jJiTjhe rov Xeyovra [Mrjhev elBevai o ri evoei.38


63/525

CHARMIDESCertainly.Well then, I went on, do you think a state would

be well conducted imder a law which enjoined thateveryone should weave and scour his o\\ti coat, andmake his own shoes, and his oviTi flask and scraper,^and everything else on the same principle of nottouching the affairs of others but performing anddoing his own for himself ?

I think not, he rephed.But still, I said, a state whose conduct is temperate

will be well conducted.Of course, he said.Then doing one's o^vn business in that sense and inthat way ^vill not be temperance.Apparently not.So that person was riddling, it seems, just as I said

a moment ago, when he said that doing one's o^vnbusiness is temperance. For I take it he was notsuch a fool as all that : or was it some idiot that youheard saying this, Charmides ?Far from it, he rephed, for indeed he seemed to

be very wise.Then it is perfectly certain, in my opinion, that hepropounded it as a riddle, in view of the difficulty of

understanding what " doing one's own business " canmean.

I daresay, he said.Well, what can it mean, this " doing one's own

business " ? Can you tell me ?I do not know, upon my word, he replied : but Idaresay it may be that not even he who said it knew^ The flask contained oil for anointing the body before

exercise, and the scraper was for scraping it afterwards, orat the bath.

39


64/525

PLATO162

KaL a/na ravra Xeycov v-neyeXa re /cat et? rovKpiTtav OLTTe^Xevev.

C Kai o KptTia? 8'Âos" ^lev -^v Kal rrdXai dycovitDv/cat ^tAoTt/AO)? 77/30? re rov \apfiiSrjv /cat Trpo? roy?TTapovras e;\;ct)v, [xoyis 8' eaurov ev to) TrpoaOevKarexiov rore ovx otos re iyevero' 8o/cet yap /i.otTravTO? [xciXXov dXrjdes elvai, o iyoj vneXaôv , rovK/JtTtou oLKrjKoevaL rov âpiXLSrjv Tavrr)v rrjv oltto-Kpiaiv TTepl rrjs aaxfypoavvqs . 6 fxev o^v Xap-fjitS'qs ôvX6[JiVos [xrj avros VTrixj^LV Xoyov dXXD eKelvov rrjs diroKpiaecxis, vrrcKLveL avrov cKeivov,Kal iveSeiKwro ws iêXrjXeyjJLevos ctrj' 6 8' ovk

I'qveax^ro, dXXd fioi eSoêv opyicrOrjvaL avrco oyoTrep

^' TTOirjrrjs ' VTTOKptrfj /ca/ccD? hiariBevri rd iavrovTTOi'^fxara' war' epu^Xeâs avrto elTrev, Ovrcog otet,a> \apfXL8r], el av fxr] otada 6 ri rror* ivoei o? ecfiiqaoi^poGvvrjv elvai ro rd iavrov rrpdrreiv, ovhe 8r]eKelvov elSevai

'AAA', c5 îXriare, e^-qv eyd), Kptria, rovrov fievovSev Oavfjbaarov dyvoeiv rrjXiKovrov ovra' ae 8eE 7TOV ciKos elSevac /cat iÂt/cta? eveKa /cat imfMeXeiasel ovv arvyxoipels rovr' etvai act)(f)po(Tuvr]v ovepovroal Xeyei, /cat irapahixj} tov Xoyov, eycoye ttoXvdv rjSiov p.erd aov aK07T0Liîr]v, e'er' dX7]des eire jMrjTO Xexdev.'AAAd rrdw avyxoipd), ^^f], /cat vapaSexofiai.KaAcDs" y av roivvv, rjv 8' eyco, TTotcDv. /cat fj,oi

Xeye, rj /cat d vvv 817 rjpoyroiv iyd) avyx


65/525

CHARMIDESin the least what he meant. And as he said this hegave a sly laugh and glanced at Critias.Now Critias for some time had been plainly burningwith anxiety to distinguish himself in the eyes ofCharmides and the company, and ha\ing with diffi-culty restrained himself heretofore, he now coulddo so no longer ; for I beheve that what I hadsupposed was perfectly truethat Charmides hadheard this answer about temperance from Critias.And so Charmides, wishing him to make answerinstead of himself, sought to stir him up in particular,and pointed out that he himself had been refuted ;but Critias rebelled against it, and seemed to me tohave got angry with him, as a poet does with an actorwho mishandles his verses on the stage : so he lookedhard at him and said : Do you really suppose, Char-mides, that if you do not know what can have beenthe meaning of the man who said that temperancewas doing one's own business, he did not know either ?Why, my excellent Critias, I said, no wonder if ourfriend, at his age, cannot understand ; but you, Ishould think, may be expected to know, in \iew ofyour years and yoiur studies. So if you concede thattemperance is what he says, and you accept thestatement, for my part I would greatly prefer tohave you as partner in the inquiry as to whether thissaying is true or not.

Well, I quite concede it, he said, and accept it.That is good, then, I said. Now tell me, do youalso concede what I was asking just nowthat allcraftsmen make something ?I do.And do you consider that they make their own

things only, or those of others also ?41


66/525

PLATO163 Kat TO. Tiov aAAcoj/.

llcO(f>pOVOV


67/525

CHARMIDESThose of others also.And are they temperate in not making their o^vnthings only ?Yes : what reason is there against it ? he said.None for me, I rephed ; but there may be for himwho, after assmning that temperance is doing one'sown business, proceeds to say there is no reason

against those also who do others' business beingtemperate.And have I, pray, he said, admitted that thosewho do others' business are temperate ? Or was myadmission of those who make ^ things ?

Tell me, I said, do you not call making and doingthe same ?No indeed, he replied, nor working and making thesame either : this I learnt from Hesiod,^ who said," Work is no reproach." Now, do you suppose thatif he had given the names of working and doing tosuch works as you were mentioning just now, hewould have said there was no reproach in shoe-makingor pickle-selling or serving the stews ? It is not tobe thought, Socrates ; he rather held, I conceive,that making was different from doing and working,and that while a thing made might be a reproach ifit had no connexion with the honourable, work couldnever be a reproach. For things honourably andusefully made he called works, and such makings hecalled workings and doings ; and we must supposethat it was only such things as these that he calledour proper concerns, but all that was harmful, theconcerns of others. So that we must conclude thatHesiod, and anyone else of good sense, calls himtemperate who does his own business.

Works and Bays, 309.43


68/525

PLATO163D *^ Kpcrta, "^v 8' iyd), /cat evdvs dpxofievov aov

ax^ôv ifidvdavov top Xoyov, on rd oiKetd re /catrd avrov dyadd KaXol-qs, kol rds rcov dyadcovTTOLrjaeis irpdêis' koI ydp Yipoh'tKov fMvpta TLvdaKiqKoa irepi ovofxaTcov Btaipovvros. aAA' iyco aoirideadai fiev rcov ovofidrajv St'Sco/xt onj] dv ôvXr]CKacrrov S-qXov 8e p,6vov e^' o n dv 4êprjs rovvojxao Ti dv Xeyrjs. vvv ovv TrdXtv i^ dpxrjs aaj>earepovE optaai' dpa rrjv rojv dyadcov irpdîv ri rroiiqaiv rjOTTCos cm jSouAet dvopidtêiv, ravrrjv Xeyeis cru aco-(f)pocrvvT]v elvat;"Kycoye, rj.OvK dpa aco^povel 6 rd /ca/cd irpdrrcov, dXX 6

rd dyadd;Sot 8e, Tj 8 OS, CO jSeArtore, ov^ ovrco hoKeZ;xlitt, iqv o eyw /xi) yap ttco ro e/xot ookow

aKoiTcofxev, dXX' o cru Xeyeis vvv.'AAAd fievroL eycoye, (f)7], rov firj dyadd dXXdKaKd TTOiovvra ov (f)r]fj,i acocf)poviv, rov 8e dya^daXXd fXT] KaKd acocfjpovelv rrjv ydp rcov dyadcov

TTpd^LV aco


69/525

CHARMIDESAh, Critiaa, I said, you had liardly begun, when I

grasped the purport of your speechthat you calledone's proper and one's OA\'n things good, and that themakings of the good you called doings ; for in factI have heard Prodicus drawing innumerable dis-tinctions between names .^ Well, I will allow you anyapplication of a name that you please ; only makeclear to what thing it is that you attach such-and-such a name. So begin now over again, and definemore plainly. Do you say that this doing or making,or whatever is the term you prefer, of good things, istemperance ?

I do, he replied.Then not he who does evil, but he who does good,is temperate ?And do not you, my excellent firiend, he said,think so ?Leave that aside, I said ; for we have not to con-

sider yet what I think, but what you say now.Well, all the same, I say, he replied, that he who

does evil instead of good is not temperate, whereashe who does good instead of evil is temperate : for Igive you "the doing of good things is temperance "as my plain definition.And there is no reason, I daresay, why your state-ment should not be right ; but still I wonder, I wenton, whether you judge that temperate men areignorant of their temperance.

No, I do not, he said.A httle while ago, I said, were you not saying thatthere was no reason why craftsmen should not betemperate in making others' things as well ?

Yes, I was, he said, but what of it ?Nothing ; only tell me whether you think that a

c 45


70/525

PLATO164B Tiva TTOicov, a>0eAt/ia Kal iavrco iroieiv koX eKelvoj

ov la>To;"Ei/JbOLye.OvKovv rd Seovra TrpdrrcL o ye ravra TrpdrTwv;Nat.*0 rd Seovra Trpdrrcov ov aco^poveZ;â>(j)povei fiev ovv.^H ovv Kal ycyvcooKeiv dvdyKTj rep lorpep orav re

d)(l>e\ip.oiS Idrat Kal orav pi.rj; Kal eKacrrcp t(1)VSrjixLovpyctJv, orav re /zeAA?^ ovrjaeadai drro rovepyov ov dv Trpdrrr), Kal orav fMij;

"laws' ov.^Kvlore dpa, -qv 8' eyco, oxêAtyLicus' rrpdâs 7]C ^XaêpdJs 6 larpos ov ytyvcoaKei. eavrdv cos eirpa-^V KaiTOi cuêAi/xo)? irpdâs, cos 6 cros Xoyos,

aa>(f)p6vcos eTrpaêv t] ov^ ovrcos eXeyes;"Eycoye.OvKOVV, cos OLKv, Vior a


71/525

CHARMIDESdoctor, in making someone healthy, makes a helpfulresult both for Mmself and for the person whom hecures.

I do.And he who does this does his duty ?Yes.Is not he who does his duty temperate ?Indeed he is.Well, and must the doctor know when his medicine

will be helpful, and when not ? And must everycraftsman know when he is likely to be benefited bythe work he does, and when not .''

Probably not.Then sometimes, I went on, the doctor may havedone what is helpful or harmful -w-ithout knowing theeffect of his own action ; and yet, in doing what washelpful, by your statement, he has done temperately.Or did you not state that .''

I did.Then it would seem that in doing what is helpfulhe may sometimes do temperately and be temperate,but be ignorant of his o%\ti temperance ?But that, he said, Socrates, could never be : if youthink this in any way a necessary inference from myprevious admissions, I would rather withdraw someof them, and not be ashamed to say my statementswere wrong, than concede at any time that a manwho is ignorant of himself is temperate. For I wouldalmost say that this very thing, self-knowledge, istemperance, and I am at one ^\-ith him who put upthe inscription of those words at Delphi. For thepurpose of that inscription on the temple, as it seemsto me, is to serve as the god's salutation to those who

47


72/525

PLATO164E xatpe, (l)s tovtov jmcv ovk opdov ovros rov TTpoapi]-

fxaros, Tov )(aipiv, ov8e helv rovro TrapaKeXeveaQaiaWi^XoLS dAAa aco(j)poveZv . ovrw fxev hrj 6 deogTrpoaayopevei rovs elaiovras els to lepov hia


73/525

CHARMIDESenter it, instead of " Hail ! "this is a wTong form ofgreeting, and they should rather exhort one anotherwith the words, " Be temperate ! " And thus thegod addresses those who are entering his temple ina mode which differs from that of men ; such was theintention of the dedicator of the inscription in puttingit up, I believe ; and that he says to each man whoenters, in reality, " Be temperate ! " But he says itin a rather riddling fashion, as a prophet would ; forKnow thyself! " and " Be temperate ! " are thesame, as the inscription ^ and I declare, though one ishkely enough to think them differentan error intowhich I consider the dedicators of the later inscrip-tions fell when they put up " Nothing overmuch " ^and " A pledge, and thereupon perdition." ^ For theysupposed that " Know thyself ! " was a piece ofadvice, and not the god's salutation of those whowere entering ; and so, in order that their dedica-tions too might equally give pieces of useful advice,they wrote these words and dedicated them. Nowmy object in saying all this, Socrates, is to abandonto you all the previous argumentfor, thoughperhaps it was you who were more in the right, orperhaps it Avas I, yet nothing at all certain emergedfrom our statementsand to proceed instead tosatisfy you of this truth, if you do not admit it, thattemperance is knoAving oneself.Why, Critias, I said, you treat me as though I pro-fessed to know the things on which I ask questions,and needed only the will to agree with you. But the

* M^Sev iyav appears first in Theognis, 385.' 'Eyyija irdpa 5 arri, an old saying on the rashness of givinga pledge, is quoted in a fragment of Cratinus, the elder rival

of Aristophanes. Cf. Proverbs xi. 15"He that is suretyfor a stranger shall smart for it."

4y


74/525

PLATO165

ovx ovrcos e^et, dAAa ^rjTcD yap fiera aov del ro7Tporide[j.vov Std ro u,rj avros elhevai' aKetjsdixevos

C ovv ideXco eiTTeXv eire ofioXoyoj etre fxij. dAA'evLGxes eco? dv aKei/jcofiai.2/C077et Slj, 7^ S' OS.ai yap, 7)v o eyco, (tkottoj. et yap or) yi-

yvojoKGLV ye ri eartv r) acxirjv, eTnar'qfirj earl rov

vyieLvov;Yidvv ye.Et roivvv fi,


75/525

CHARMIDESfact of the matter is rather that I join you in tVinqiiiry, each time that a proposition is made, becauseI myself do not know ; I wish therefore to considerfirst, before I tell you whether I agree or not. Now,give me a moment to consider.

Consider then, he said.Yes, and I am considering, I said. For if temper-

ance is knowing an}^hing, obviously it must be a kindof science, and a science of something, must it not ?

It is, he replied, and of self.And medicine, I said, is a science of health ?Certainly.Then ifyou should ask me, I said, wherein medicine,

as a science of health is useful to us, and what itproduces, I should say it is of very great benefit,since it produces health ; an excellent result, if youallow so much.

I allow it.And so, if you should ask me what restdt I take tobe produced by building, as the builder's science, Ishould say houses ; and it would be the same withthe other arts. Now it is for you, in your turn, tofind an answer to a question regarding temperancesince you say it is a science of self, Critiasand totell me what excellent result it produces for us, asscience of self, and what it does that is worthy ofits name. Come now, tell me.

But, Socrates, he said, you are not inquiringrightly. For in its nature it is not like the othersciences, any more than any of them is Hke anyother ; whereas you are making your inqmry asthough they were alike. For tell me, he said, whatresult is there of the arts of reckoning and geometry,in the way that a house is of building, or a coat of

51


76/525

PLATO165

7} oAAa Totaiha epya, a ttoAAo, av ns ^xoi ttoXXcov166 r)(ycov Seiât; ^xeig ovv fMoi /cat ov rorjrcov

roLovTov TL epyov Setâi; dAA' ov^ e^-et?.Kat iyo) eiTTOv ori ÂXrjdrj Aeyets" aAAo. ToSe croikxio Seiât, tiVo? icrrlv iTTLcrr^fMr} eKcicrrrj rovrcovTcov e7ncm]fia)v, o rvyxdvec ov aAAo avrrjs rfjsevLcrrrjfjirjg' olov rj XoyicrriK'q iorri ttov rod apriovKai rov 7Tept,rrov, ttXtjOovs ottojs ^1 Trpos ayrd/cat TTpos dXXrjXa- -^ yo-p;Hdvv ye, ccjirj.OvKovv irepou ovros rov irepirrov /cat dpriov

avrrjg rrjg Xoyi,ari.KrjsHcvs B' ov;B Kai fjLTjv av rj ararcKr) rov âpvrepov /cat Kov(f)0-

repov aradp,ov iariv [arariK7]Y' erepov 8e ecrrt rojSapu re /cat kovôv rijs crrarucqs avrrjs. cruy-Xojpcls;"Kycoye.Aeye Srj, /cat rj acocfypoavvr) rtvos earlv eTTiar'qpL'q,

o rvyxd-vei erepov ov avrrjs rrjs acj^poavvrjsTovro ecrriv eKetvo, e


77/525

CHARMIDESweaving, or other products of the sort that one mightpoint to in various arts ? Well, can you, for yourpart, point to any such product in those two cases ?You cannot.To this I replied : WTiat you say is true ; but Ican point out to you what is the pecuhar subject ofeach of these sciences, distinct in each case from thescience itself. Thus reckoning, I suppose, is con-cerned with the even and the odd in their numericalrelations to themselves and to one another, isit not ?

Certainly, he said.And you grant that the odd and the even aredifferent from the actual art of reckoning ?Of course.And once more, weighing is concerned with theheavier and the lighter weight ; but the heavy andthe light are diiferent from the actual art of weighing :you agree ?

I do.Then tell me, what is that of which temperance isthe science, differing from temperance itself ?There you are, Socrates, he said : you push your

investigation up to the real question at issueinwhat temperance differs from all the other sciencesbut you then proceed to seek some resemblancebetween it and them ; whereas there is no such thing,for while all the rest of the sciences have somethingother than themselves as their subject, this one aloneis a science of the other sciences and of its own self.And of this you are far from being unconscious, sincein fact, as I believe, you are doing the very thing youdenied you were doing j ust now : for you are attempt-

53


78/525

PLATO166

rovTO TTOieis" efxe yap eTTixîpeis iXeyxeiv, idcrasirepi o5 6 Xoyos eariv.

Oh)V, Tjv S' eyd), TTOieis" rjyovfxevos, el on fxdXiaraavS eKaarov rcov ovrcov ovrj exî;Kat fidXa, rj 8' 6s, eycoye, co HcoKpares.Qappcjjv roivvv, rjv 8' iyd), w fxaKapie, aTTOKpivo-

fievos TO ipoiTiopievov OTrrj aoi iâtVerat, ea ;(at/3iv,E etre Kptrta? iarlv etre HojKpdrrjs 6 eXeyxofxevos'aAA' avTcb TTpoaexoiiv rov vovv r


79/525

CHARMIDESing to refute me, \vithout troubling to follow thesubject of our discussion.How can you think, I said, if my main effort is torefute you, that I do it with any other motive thanthat which would impel me to investigate the mean-ing of my o^vn wordsfrom a fear of carelesslysupposing, at any moment, that I knew somethingwhile I knew it not ? And so it is now : that is whatI am doing, I tell you. I am examining the argumentmainly for my own sake, but also, perhaps, for thatof my other intimates. Or do you not think it is forthe common good, almost, of all men, that the truthabout everything there is should be discovered ?Yes indeed, he replied, I do, Socrates.Then take heart, I said, my admirable friend, andanswer the question put to you as you deem the caseto be, without caring a jot whether it is Critias orSocrates who is being refuted : give the argumentitself your attention, and observe what will becomeof it under the test of refutation.

Well, he said, I will do so ; for I think there is agood deal in what you say.Then tell me, I said, what you mean in regard totemperance.Why, I mean, he said, that it alone of all the

sciences is the science both of itself and of the othersciences.So then, I said, it will be the science of the lack of

science also, besides being the science of science ? ^Certainly, he replied.Then only the temperate person will know himself,^ Science or exact knowledge must be able to measure notonly the field of knowledge, but also that of its negation,

ignorance.55


80/525

PLATO167

fcai oios" T ecrrat d^erdcrat ri re rvyxo-vet, elBcbs/cat Tt fX7], Kttt rovs dXXovs coaavrcos Svvaros eWat7TLaK07TeiV, Ti Tis oiSc /cttt oterat, e'lTrep oi8e, /


81/525

CHARMIDESand be able to discern what he really knows anddoes not know, and have the power of judging whatother people Hkewise know and think they know, incases where they do know, and again, what theythink they know, ^^ithout knowing it ; everj-one elsewill be unable. And so this is being temperate, ortemperance, and knowing oneselfthat one shouldknow what one knows and what one does not know.Is that what you mean ?

It is, he replied.Once more then, I said, as oiu: third offering to the

Saviour,^ let us consider afresh, in the first place,whether such a thing as this is possible or nottoknow that one knows, and does not know, what oneknows and what one does not know ; and secondly,if this is perfectly possible, what benefit we get byknowing it.We must indeed consider, he said.Come then, I said, Critias, consider if you canshow yourself any more resourceful than I am ; forI am at a loss. Shall I explain to you in what way iBy all means, he repUed.

Well, I said, what all this comes to, if your laststatement was correct, is merely that there is onescience which is precisely a science of itself and of theother sciences, and moreover is a science of the lackof science at the same time.

Certainly.Then mark what a strange statement it is that weare attempting to make, my friend : for if you willconsider it as apphed to other cases, you will surelyseeso I beheve^its impossibility.final wine-oflFering or toast to Zeus the Saviour. Cf. Pindar,Isthm. V. inU.

67


82/525

CkJ PLATO167

Hibs 817 Kol TTOV;'El' TOtaSe. ewoet yap et crot 80/cet oi/rt? ns etvai,

rj wv jxev at aAAat oi/(et? etcrtV, ou/c eWt toutojvoi/fi?, iavri]s he /cat tcui' aAAcov oifteojv oifjis can,

J) /cat jU,T7 oipecov (Laavrcos, /cat XP^P'^ H^^^ V? ouSei/oi/t? ouaa, auTi^i' 8e /cat raj aAAa? o^et?- 80/cet risaoL elvai rotaurrj;Ma At" ovK efMOLye.Tt 8e OLKO-qv, rj (f)a>vrjg /xev ou8ejLtta? d/couet,

avrrjs 8e /cat rcDi' aAAcov d/cocDv' d/covet /cat tojv ^t]OLKOcovOuSe TOUTO.HvXX-q^b-qv 817 (x/coTret Trept Tracrcjv rcov aloQriaeuiv,

el TLS


83/525

CHARMIDESHow so ? In what cases ?In the following : ask yourself if you think thereis a sort of vision which is not the vision of things thatwe see in the ordinary way, but a ^ision of itself and

of the other sorts of vision, and of the lack of visionhkewise ; which, while being vision, sees no colour,but only itself and the other sorts of vision. Do youthink there is any such ?Upon my word, I do not.And what do you say to a sort of hearing which

hears not a single sound, but hears itself and theother sorts of hearing and lack of hearing ?

I reject that also.Then take all the senses together as a whole, and

consider if you think there is any sense of the sensesand of itself, but insensible of any of the things ofwhich the other senses are sensible.

I do not.Now, do you think there is any desire which is the

desire, not of any pleasure, but of itself and of theother desires ?

No, indeed.Nor, again, is there a vvish, I imagine, that wishesno good, but wishes itself and the other v\ishes.

Quite so ; there is not.And would you say there is any love of such a sortthat it is actually a love of no beauty, but of

Documents

Plato - Charmides, Alcibiades