[c] LYSIMACHUS: I like what Socrates has said, gentlemen. But whether you are willing to be questioned about such matters and to give account of them, you must decide for yourselves, Nicias and Laches. As far as Melesias here and I are concerned, we would certainly be pleased if the two of you were willing to give complete answers to all of Socrates’ questions. Because, as I started to say right at the beginning, the reason we invited you to advise us on these matters was that we supposed that you would naturally have given some thought to such things—especially so since your sons, like ours, are very nearly of an age to be educated. So, if you have no [d] objection, speak up and look into the subject along with Socrates, exchanging arguments with each other. Because he is right in saying that it is about the most important of our affairs that we are consulting. So decide if you think this is what ought to be done.
NICIAS: It is quite clear to me, Lysimachus, that your knowledge of Socrates is limited to your acquaintance with his father and that you have had no contact with the man himself, except when he was a child—I [e] suppose he may have mingled with you and your fellow demesmen, following along with his father at the temple or at some other public gathering. But you are obviously still unacquainted with the man as he is now he has grown up.
LYSIMACHUS: What exactly do you mean, Nicias?
NICIAS: You don’t appear to me to know that whoever comes into close contact with Socrates and associates with him in conversation must necessarily, even if he began by conversing about something quite different in the first place, keep on being led about by the man’s arguments until he submits to answering questions about himself concerning both his present manner of life and the life he has lived hitherto. And when he does submit [188] to this questioning, you don’t realize that Socrates will not let him go before he has well and truly tested every last detail. I personally am accustomed to the man and know that one has to put up with this kind of treatment from him, and further, I know perfectly well that I myself will have to submit to it. I take pleasure in the man’s company, Lysimachus, and don’t regard it as at all a bad thing to have it brought to our attention [b] that we have done or are doing wrong. Rather I think that a man who does not run away from such treatment but is willing, according to the saying of Solon, to value learning as long as he lives,4 not supposing that old age brings him wisdom of itself, will necessarily pay more attention to the rest of his life. For me there is nothing unusual or unpleasant in being examined by Socrates, but I realized some time ago that the conversation [c] would not be about the boys but about ourselves, if Socrates were present. As I say, I don’t myself mind talking with Socrates in whatever way he likes—but find out how Laches here feels about such things.
LACHES: I have just one feeling about discussions, Nicias, or, if you like, not one but two, because to some I might seem to be a discussion-lover and to others a discussion-hater. Whenever I hear a man discussing virtue or some kind of wisdom, then, if he really is a man and worthy of the words he utters, I am completely delighted to see the appropriateness and [d] harmony existing between the speaker and his words. And such a man seems to me to be genuinely musical, producing the most beautiful harmony, not on the lyre or some other pleasurable instrument, but actually rendering his own life harmonious by fitting his deeds to his words in a truly Dorian mode, not in the Ionian, nor even, I think, in the Phrygian or Lydian, but in the only harmony that is genuinely Greek. The discourse [e] of such a man gladdens my heart and makes everyone think that I am a discussion-lover because of the enthusiastic way in which I welcome what is said; but the man who acts in the opposite way distresses me, and the better he speaks, the worse I feel, so that his discourse makes me look like a discussion-hater. Now I have no acquaintance with the words of Socrates, but before now, I believe, I have had experience of his deeds, and there I found him a person privileged to speak fair words and to indulge in every [189] kind of frankness. So if he possesses this ability too, I am in sympathy with the man, and I would submit to being examined by such a person with the greatest pleasure, nor would I find learning burdensome, because I too agree with Solon, though with one reservation—I wish to grow old learning many things, but from good men only. Let Solon grant me this point, that the teacher should himself be good, so that I may not show myself a stupid pupil taking no delight in learning. Whether my teacher [b] is to be younger than I am or not yet famous or has any other such peculiarity troubles me not at all. To you then, Socrates, I present myself as someone for you to teach and to refute in whatever manner you please, and, on the other hand, you are welcome to any knowledge I have myself. Because this has been my opinion of your character since that day on which we shared a common danger and you gave me a sample of your valor—the sort a man must give if he is to render a good account of himself. So say whatever you like and don’t let the difference in our ages concern you at all.
[c] SOCRATES: We certainly can’t find fault with you for not being ready both to give advice and to join in the common search.
LYSIMACHUS: But the task is clearly ours, Socrates (for I count you as one of ourselves), so take my place and find out on behalf of the young men what we need to learn from these people, and then, by talking to the boys, join us in giving them advice. Because, on account of my age, I very often forget what questions I was going to ask, and I forget the answers as well. [d] Then, if fresh arguments start up in the middle, my memory is not exactly good. So you do the talking and examine among yourselves the topics we proposed. And I will listen, and when I have heard your conversation, I will do whatever you people think best and so will Melesias here.
SOCRATES: Let us do what Lysimachus and Melesias suggest, Nicias and Laches. Perhaps it won’t be a bad idea to ask ourselves the sort of question which we proposed to investigate just now: what teachers have we had [e] in this sort of instruction, and what other persons have we made better? However, I think there is another sort of inquiry that will bring us to the same point and is perhaps one that begins somewhat more nearly from the beginning. Suppose we know, about anything whatsoever, that if it is added to another thing, it makes that thing better, and furthermore, we are able to make the addition, then clearly we know the very thing about which we should be consulting as to how one might obtain it most easily and best. Perhaps you don’t understand what I mean, but will do so more [190] easily this way: suppose we know that sight, when added to the eyes, makes better those eyes to which it is added, and furthermore, we are able to add it to the eyes, then clearly we know what this very thing sight is, about which we should be consulting as to how one might obtain it most easily and best. Because if we didn’t know what sight in itself was, nor hearing, we would hardly be worthy counsellors and doctors about either the eyes or the ears as to the manner in which either sight or [b] hearing might best be obtained.
LACHES: You are right, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Well then, Laches, aren’t these two now asking our advice as to the manner in which virtue might be added to the souls of their sons to make them better?
LACHES: Yes, indeed.
SOCRATES: Then isn’t it necessary for us to start out knowing what virtue is? Because if we are not absolutely certain what it is, how are we going [c] to advise anyone as to the best method of obtaining it?
LACHES: I do not think that there is any way in which we can do this, Socrates.
SOCRATES: We say then, Laches, that we know what it is.
LACHES: Yes, we do say so.
SOCRATES: And what we know, we must, I suppose, be able to state?
LACHES: Of course.
SOCRATES: Let us not, O best of men, begin straightaway with an investigation of the whole of virtue—that would perhaps be too great a task—but let us first see if we have a sufficient knowledge of a part. Then it is likely [d] that the investigation will be easier for us.
LACHES: Yes, let’s do it the way you want, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Well, which one of the parts of virtue should we choose? Or isn’t it obv
ious that we ought to take the one to which the technique of fighting in armor appears to lead? I suppose everyone would think it leads to courage, wouldn’t they?
LACHES: I think they certainly would.
SOCRATES: Then let us undertake first of all, Laches, to state what courage is. Then after this we will go on to investigate in what way it could be [e] added to the young, to the extent that the addition can be made through occupations and studies. But try to state what I ask, namely, what courage is.
LACHES: Good heavens, Socrates, there is no difficulty about that: if a man is willing to remain at his post and to defend himself against the enemy without running away, then you may rest assured that he is a man of courage.
SOCRATES: Well spoken, Laches. But perhaps I am to blame for not making myself clear; the result is that you did not answer the question I had in mind but a different one.
LACHES: What do you mean, Socrates?
[191] SOCRATES: I will tell you if I can. That man, I suppose, is courageous whom you yourself mention, that is, the man who fights the enemy while remaining at his post?
LACHES: Yes, that is my view.
SOCRATES: And I agree. But what about this man, the one who fights with the enemy, not holding his ground, but in retreat?
LACHES: What did you mean, in retreat?
SOCRATES: Why, I mean the way the Scythians are said to fight, as much retreating as pursuing; and then I imagine that Homer is praising the [b] horses of Aeneas when he says they know how “to pursue and fly quickly this way and that,” and he praises Aeneas himself for his knowledge of fear and he calls him “counsellor of fright.”
LACHES: And Homer is right, Socrates, because he was speaking of chariots, and it was the Scythian horsemen to which you referred. Now cavalry do fight in this fashion, but the hoplites in the manner I describe.
[c] SOCRATES: Except perhaps the Spartan hoplites, Laches. Because they say that at Plataea the Spartans, when they were up against the soldiers carrying wicker shields, were not willing to stand their ground and fight against them but ran away. Then when the ranks of the Persians were broken, they turned and fought, just like cavalrymen, and so won that particular battle.
LACHES: You are right.
SOCRATES: So as I said just now, my poor questioning is to blame for [d] your poor answer, because I wanted to learn from you not only what constitutes courage for a hoplite but for a horseman as well and for every sort of warrior. And I wanted to include not only those who are courageous in warfare but also those who are brave in dangers at sea, and the ones who show courage in illness and poverty and affairs of state; and then again I wanted to include not only those who are brave in the face of pain [e] and fear but also those who are clever at fighting desire and pleasure, whether by standing their ground or running away—because there are some men, aren’t there, Laches, who are brave in matters like these?
LACHES: Very much so, Socrates.
SOCRATES: So all these men are brave, but some possess courage in pleasures, some in pains, some in desires, and some in fears. And others, I think, show cowardice in the same respects.
LACHES: Yes, they do.
SOCRATES: Then what are courage and cowardice? This is what I wanted to find out. So try again to state first what is the courage that is the same in all these cases. Or don’t you yet have a clear understanding of what I mean?
LACHES: Not exactly.
SOCRATES: Well, I mean something like this: suppose I asked what speed [192] was, which we find in running and in playing the lyre and in speaking and in learning and in many other instances—in fact we may say we display the quality, so far as it is worth mentioning, in movements of the arms or legs or tongue or voice or thought? Or isn’t this the way you too would express it?
LACHES: Yes, indeed.
SOCRATES: Then if anyone should ask me, “Socrates, what do you say it is which you call swiftness in all these cases,” I would answer him that [b] what I call swiftness is the power of accomplishing a great deal in a short time, whether in speech or in running or all the other cases.
LACHES: And you would be right.
SOCRATES: Then make an effort yourself, Laches, to speak in the same way about courage. What power is it which, because it is the same in pleasure and in pain and in all the other cases in which we were just saying it occurred, is therefore called courage?
LACHES: Well then, I think it is a sort of endurance of the soul, if it is [c] necessary to say what its nature is in all these cases.
SOCRATES: But it is necessary, at any rate if we are to give an answer to our question. Now this is what appears to me: I think that you don’t regard every kind of endurance as courage. The reason I think so is this: I am fairly sure, Laches, that you regard courage as a very fine thing.
LACHES: One of the finest, you may be sure.
SOCRATES: And you would say that endurance accompanied by wisdom is a fine and noble thing?
LACHES: Very much so.
SOCRATES: Suppose it is accompanied by folly? Isn’t it just the opposite, [d] harmful and injurious?
LACHES: Yes.
SOCRATES: And you are going to call a thing fine which is of the injurious and harmful sort?
LACHES: No, that wouldn’t be right, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Then you won’t allow this kind of endurance to be courage, since it is not fine, whereas courage is fine.
LACHES: You are right.
SOCRATES: Then, according to your view, it would be wise endurance which would be courage.
LACHES: So it seems.
SOCRATES: Let us see then in what respect it is wise—is it so with respect [e] to everything both great and small? For instance, if a man were to show endurance in spending his money wisely, knowing that by spending it he would get more, would you call this man courageous?
LACHES: Heavens no, not I.
SOCRATES: Well, suppose a man is a doctor, and his son or some other patient is ill with inflammation of the lungs and begs him for something to eat or drink, and the man doesn’t give in but perseveres in refusing? [193]
LACHES: No, this would certainly not be courage either, not at all.
SOCRATES: Well, suppose a man endures in battle, and his willingness to fight is based on wise calculation because he knows that others are coming to his aid and that he will be fighting men who are fewer than those on his side, and inferior to them, and in addition his position is stronger: would you say that this man, with his kind of wisdom and preparation, endures more courageously or a man in the opposite camp who is willing to remain and hold out?
[b] LACHES: The one in the opposite camp, Socrates, I should say.
SOCRATES: But surely the endurance of this man is more foolish than that of the other.
LACHES: You are right.
SOCRATES: And you would say that the man who shows endurance in a cavalry attack and has knowledge of horsemanship is less courageous than the man who lacks this knowledge.
LACHES: Yes, I would.
SOCRATES: And the one who endures with knowledge of slinging or archery or some other art is the less courageous.
[c] LACHES: Yes indeed.
SOCRATES: And as many as would be willing to endure in diving down into wells without being skilled, or to endure in any other similar situation, you say are braver than those who are skilled in these things.
LACHES: Why, what else would anyone say, Socrates?
SOCRATES: Nothing, if that is what he thought.
LACHES: Well, this is what I think at any rate.
SOCRATES: And certainly, Laches, such people run risks and endure more foolishly than those who do a thing with art.
LACHES: They clearly do.
[d] SOCRATES: Now foolish daring and endurance was found by us to be not only disgraceful but harmful, in what we said earlier.
LACHES: Quite so.
SOCRATES: But courage was agreed to be a noble thing.
LACHES: Yes, it was.
SOCRATES: But now, on the contrary
, we are saying that a disgraceful thing, foolish endurance, is courage.
LACHES: Yes, we seem to be.
SOCRATES: And do you think we are talking sense?
LACHES: Heavens no, Socrates, I certainly don’t.
[e] SOCRATES: Then I don’t suppose, Laches, that according to your statement you and I are tuned to the Dorian mode, because our deeds are not harmonizing with our words. In deeds I think anyone would say that we partook of courage, but in words I don’t suppose he would, if he were to listen to our present discussion.
LACHES: You are absolutely right.
SOCRATES: Well then: is it good for us to be in such a state?
LACHES: Certainly not, in no way whatsoever.
SOCRATES: But are you willing that we should agree with our statement to a certain extent?
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