Complete Works

by Plato, Cooper, John M. , Hutchinson, D. S.

  LACHES: To what extent and with what statement?

  SOCRATES: With the one that commands us to endure. If you are willing, [194] let us hold our ground in the search and let us endure, so that courage itself won’t make fun of us for not searching for it courageously—if endurance should perhaps be courage after all.

  LACHES: I am ready not to give up, Socrates, although I am not really accustomed to arguments of this kind. But an absolute desire for victory has seized me with respect to our conversation, and I am really getting [b] annoyed at being unable to express what I think in this fashion. I still think I know what courage is, but I can’t understand how it has escaped me just now so that I can’t pin it down in words and say what it is.

  SOCRATES: Well, my friend, a good hunter ought to pursue the trail and not give up.

  LACHES: Absolutely.

  SOCRATES: Then, if you agree, let’s also summon Nicias here to the hunt—he might get on much better.

  LACHES: I am willing—why not? [c]

  SOCRATES: Come along then, Nicias, and, if you can, rescue your friends who are storm-tossed by the argument and find themselves in trouble. You see, of course, that our affairs are in a bad way, so state what you think courage is and get us out of our difficulties as well as confirming your own view by putting it into words.

  NICIAS: I have been thinking for some time that you are not defining courage in the right way, Socrates. And you are not employing the excellent observation I have heard you make before now.

  SOCRATES: What one was that, Nicias?

  NICIAS: I have often heard you say that every one of us is good with [d] respect to that in which he is wise and bad in respect to that in which he is ignorant.

  SOCRATES: By heaven, you are right, Nicias.

  NICIAS: Therefore, if a man is really courageous, it is clear that he is wise.

  SOCRATES: You hear that, Laches?

  LACHES: I do, but I don’t understand exactly what he means.

  SOCRATES: Well, I think I understand him, and the man seems to me to be saying that courage is some kind of wisdom.

  LACHES: Why, what sort of wisdom is he talking about, Socrates?

  SOCRATES: Why don’t you ask him? [e]

  LACHES: All right.

  SOCRATES: Come, Nicias, tell him what sort of wisdom courage would be according to your view. I don’t suppose it is skill in flute playing.

  NICIAS: Of course not.

  SOCRATES: And not in lyre playing either.

  NICIAS: Far from it.

  SOCRATES: But what is this knowledge and of what?

  LACHES: You are questioning him in just the right way.

  SOCRATES: Let him state what kind of knowledge it is.

  [195] NICIAS: What I say, Laches, is that it is the knowledge of the fearful and the hopeful in war and in every other situation.

  LACHES: How strangely he talks, Socrates.

  SOCRATES: What do you have in mind when you say this, Laches?

  LACHES: What do I have in mind? Why, I take wisdom to be quite a different thing from courage.

  SOCRATES: Well, Nicias, at any rate, says it isn’t.

  LACHES: He certainly does—that’s the nonsense he talks.

  SOCRATES: Well, let’s instruct him instead of making fun of him.

  NICIAS: Very well, but it strikes me, Socrates, that Laches wants to prove [b] that I am talking nonsense simply because he was shown to be that sort of person himself a moment ago.

  LACHES: Quite so, Nicias, and I shall try to demonstrate that very thing, because you are talking nonsense. Take an immediate example: in cases of illness, aren’t the doctors the ones who know what is to be feared? Or do you think the courageous are the people who know? Perhaps you call the doctors the courageous?

  NICIAS: No, of course not.

  LACHES: And I don’t imagine you mean the farmers either, even though I do suppose they are the ones who know what is to be feared in farming. And all the other craftsmen know what is to be feared and hoped for in [c] their particular arts. But these people are in no way courageous all the same.

  SOCRATES: What does Laches mean, Nicias? Because he does seem to be saying something.

  NICIAS: Yes, he is saying something, but what he says is not true.

  SOCRATES: How so?

  NICIAS: He thinks a doctor’s knowledge of the sick amounts to something more than being able to describe health and disease whereas I think their knowledge is restricted to just this. Do you suppose, Laches, that when a man’s recovery is more to be feared than his illness, the doctors know this? Or don’t you think there are many cases in which it would be better [d] not to get up from an illness? Tell me this: do you maintain that in all cases to live is preferable? In many cases, is it not better to die?

  LACHES: Well, I agree with you on this point at least.

  NICIAS: And do you suppose that the same things are to be feared by those for whom it is an advantage to die as by those for whom it is an advantage to live?

  LACHES: No, I don’t.

  NICIAS: But do you grant this knowledge to the doctors or to any other craftsmen except the one who knows what is and what is not to be feared, who is the one I call courageous?

  SOCRATES: Do you understand what he is saying, Laches?

  [e] LACHES: Yes I do—he is calling the seers the courageous. Because who else will know for whom it is better to live than to die? What about you, Nicias—do you admit to being a seer, or, if you are not a seer, to not being courageous?

  NICIAS: Well, what of it? Don’t you, for your part, think it is appropriate for a seer to know what is to be feared and what is to be hoped?

  LACHES: Yes, I do, because I don’t see for what other person it would be.

  NICIAS: Much more for the man I am talking about, my friend, because the seer needs to know only the signs of what is to be, whether a man will experience death or illness or loss of property, or will experience [196] victory or defeat, in battle or in any other sort of contest. But why is it more suitable for the seer than for anyone else to judge for whom it is better to suffer or not to suffer these things?

  LACHES: It isn’t clear to me from this, Socrates, what he is trying to say. Because he doesn’t select either the seer or the doctor or anyone else as the man he calls courageous, unless some god is the person he means. Nicias appears to me unwilling to make a gentlemanly admission that he [b] is talking nonsense, but he twists this way and that in an attempt to cover up his difficulty. Even you and I could have executed a similar twist just now if we had wanted to avoid the appearance of contradicting ourselves. If we were making speeches in a court of law, there might be some point in doing this, but as things are, why should anyone adorn himself senselessly with empty words in a gathering like this?

  SOCRATES: I see no reason why he should, Laches. But let us see if Nicias [c] thinks he is saying something and is not just talking for the sake of talking. Let us find out from him more clearly what it is he means, and if he is really saying something, we will agree with him, but if not, we will instruct him.

  LACHES: You go ahead and question him, Socrates, if you want to find out. I think perhaps I have asked enough.

  SOCRATES: I have no objection, since the inquiry will be a joint effort on behalf of us both.

  LACHES: Very well.

  SOCRATES: Then tell me, Nicias, or rather tell us, because Laches and I [d] are sharing the argument: you say that courage is knowledge of the grounds of fear and hope?

  NICIAS: Yes, I do.

  SOCRATES: Then this knowledge is something possessed by very few indeed if, as you say, neither the doctor nor the seer will have it and won’t be courageous without acquiring this particular knowledge. Isn’t that what you’re saying?

  NICIAS: Just so.

  SOCRATES: Then, as the proverb says, it is true that this is not something “every sow would know,” and she would not be courageous?

  NICIAS: I don’t think so.

  SOCRATES: Then it is obvious, Nicias,
that you do not regard the Crommyon [e] sow5 as having been courageous. I say this not as a joke, but because I think that anyone taking this position must necessarily deny courage to any wild beast or else admit that some wild beast, a lion or a leopard or some sort of wild boar, is wise enough to know what is so difficult that very few men understand it. And the man who defines courage as you define it would have to assert that a lion and a stag, a bull and a monkey are all equally courageous by nature. [197]

  LACHES: By heaven, you talk well, Socrates. Give us an honest answer to this, Nicias—whether you say that these wild beasts, whom we all admit to be courageous, are wiser than we in these respects, or whether you dare to oppose the general view and say that they are not courageous.

  NICIAS: By no means, Laches, do I call courageous wild beasts or anything else that, for lack of understanding, does not fear what should be feared. Rather, I would call them rash and mad. Or do you really suppose I call [b] all children courageous, who fear nothing because they have no sense? On the contrary, I think that rashness and courage are not the same thing. My view is that very few have a share of courage and foresight, but that a great many, men and women and children and wild animals, partake in boldness and audacity and rashness and lack of foresight. These cases, [c] which you and the man in the street call courageous, I call rash, whereas the courageous ones are the sensible people I was talking about.

  LACHES: You see, Socrates, how the man decks himself out in words and does it well in his own opinion. Those whom everyone agrees to be courageous he attempts to deprive of that distinction.

  NICIAS: I’m not depriving you of it, Laches, so cheer up. I declare that you are wise, and Lamachus6 too, so long as you are courageous, and I say the same of a great many other Athenians.

  LACHES: I shan’t say anything about that—though I could—in case you should call me a typical Aexonian.7

  [d] SOCRATES: Never mind him, Laches, I don’t think you realize that he has procured this wisdom from our friend Damon, and Damon spends most of his time with Prodicus, who has the reputation of being best among the sophists at making such verbal distinctions.

  LACHES: Well, Socrates, it is certainly more fitting for a sophist to make such clever distinctions than for a man the city thinks worthy to be its leader.

  [e] SOCRATES: Well, I suppose it would be fitting, my good friend, for the man in charge of the greatest affairs to have the greatest share of wisdom. But I think it worthwhile to ask Nicias what he has in mind when he defines courage in this way.

  LACHES: Well then, you ask him, Socrates.

  SOCRATES: This is just what I intend to do, my good friend. But don’t therefore suppose that I shall let you out of your share of the argument. Pay attention and join me in examining what is being said.

  LACHES: Very well, if that seems necessary.

  SOCRATES: Yes, it does. And you, Nicias, tell me again from the [198] beginning—you know that when we were investigating courage at the beginning of the argument, we were investigating it as a part of virtue?

  NICIAS: Yes, we were.

  SOCRATES: And didn’t you give your answer supposing that it was a part, and, as such, one among a number of other parts, all of which taken together were called virtue?

  NICIAS: Yes, why not?

  SOCRATES: And do you also speak of the same parts that I do? In addition to courage, I call temperance and justice and everything else of this kind parts of virtue. Don’t you?

  NICIAS: Yes, indeed. [b]

  SOCRATES: Stop there. We are in agreement on these points, but let us investigate the grounds of fear and confidence to make sure that you don’t regard them in one way and we in another. We will tell you what we think about them, and if you do not agree, you shall instruct us. We regard as fearful things those that produce fear, and as hopeful things those that do not produce fear; and fear is produced not by evils which have happened or are happening but by those which are anticipated. Because fear is the expectation of a future evil—or isn’t this your opinion too, Laches?

  LACHES: Very much so, Socrates. [c]

  SOCRATES: You hear what we have to say, Nicias: that fearful things are future evils, and the ones inspiring hope are either future non-evils or future goods. Do you agree with this or have you some other view on the subject?

  NICIAS: I agree with this one.

  SOCRATES: And you declare that knowledge of just these things is courage?

  NICIAS: Exactly so.

  SOCRATES: Let us find out if we all agree on still a third point.

  NICIAS: What one is that?

  SOCRATES: I will explain. It seems to me and my friend here that of the [d] various things with which knowledge is concerned, there is not one kind of knowledge by which we know how things have happened in the past, and another by which we know how they are happening at the present time, and still another by which we know how what has not yet happened might best come to be in the future, but that the knowledge is the same in each case. For instance, in the case of health, there is no other art related to the past, the present, and the future except that of medicine, which, although it is a single art, surveys what is, what was, and what is likely to be in the future. Again, in the case of the fruits of the earth, the art of [e] farming conforms to the same pattern. And I suppose that both of you could bear witness that, in the case of the affairs of war, the art of generalship is that which best foresees the future and the other times—nor does this art consider it necessary to be ruled by the art of the seer, but to rule it, as [199] being better acquainted with both present and future in the affairs of war. In fact, the law decrees, not that the seer should command the general, but that the general should command the seer. Is this what we shall say, Laches?

  LACHES: Yes, it is.

  SOCRATES: Well then, do you agree with us, Nicias, that the same knowledge has understanding of the same things, whether future, present, or past?

  NICIAS: Yes, that is how it seems to me, Socrates.

  [b] SOCRATES: Now, my good friend, you say that courage is the knowledge of the fearful and the hopeful, isn’t that so?

  NICIAS: Yes, it is.

  SOCRATES: And it was agreed that fearful and hopeful things were future goods and future evils.

  NICIAS: Yes, it was.

  SOCRATES: And that the same knowledge is of the same things—future ones and all other kinds.

  NICIAS: Yes, that is the case.

  SOCRATES: Then courage is not knowledge of the fearful and the hopeful [c] only, because it understands not simply future goods and evils, but those of the present and the past and all times, just as is the case with the other kinds of knowledge.

  NICIAS: So it seems, at any rate.

  SOCRATES: Then you have told us about what amounts to a third part of courage, Nicias, whereas we asked you what the whole of courage was. And now it appears, according to your view, that courage is the knowledge not just of the fearful and the hopeful, but in your own opinion, it would [d] be the knowledge of practically all goods and evils put together. Do you agree to this new change, Nicias, or what do you say?

  NICIAS: That seems right to me, Socrates.

  SOCRATES: Then does a man with this kind of knowledge seem to depart from virtue in any respect if he really knows, in the case of all goods whatsoever, what they are and will be and have been, and similarly in the case of evils? And do you regard that man as lacking in temperance or justice and holiness to whom alone belongs the ability to deal circumspectly [e] with both gods and men with respect to both the fearful and its opposite, and to provide himself with good things through his knowledge of how to associate with them correctly?

  NICIAS: I think you have a point, Socrates.

  SOCRATES: Then the thing you are now talking about, Nicias, would not be a part of virtue but rather virtue entire.

  NICIAS: So it seems.

  SOCRATES: And we have certainly stated that courage is one of the parts of virtue.

  NICIAS: Yes, we have.

&nbs
p; SOCRATES: Then what we are saying now does not appear to hold good.

  NICIAS: Apparently not.

  SOCRATES: Then we have not discovered, Nicias, what courage is.

  NICIAS: We don’t appear to.

  LACHES: But I, my dear Nicias, felt sure you would make the discovery [200] after you were so scornful of me while I was answering Socrates. In fact, I had great hopes that with the help of Damon’s wisdom you would solve the whole problem.

  NICIAS: That’s a fine attitude of yours, Laches, to think it no longer to be of any importance that you yourself were just now shown to be a person who knows nothing about courage. What interests you is whether I will turn out to be a person of the same kind. Apparently it will make no difference to you to be ignorant of those things which a man of any pretensions ought to know, so long as you include me in your ignorance. [b] Well, you seem to me to be acting in a thoroughly human fashion by noticing everybody except yourself. As far as I am concerned I think enough has been said on the topic for the present, and if any point has not been covered sufficiently, then later on I think we can correct it both with the help of Damon—whom you think it right to laugh at, though you have never seen the man—and with that of others. And when I feel secure on these points, I will instruct you too and won’t begrudge the [c] effort—because you seem to me to be sadly in need of learning.

  LACHES: You are a clever man, Nicias, I know. All the same, I advise Lysimachus here and Melesias to say good-bye to you and me as teachers of the young men and to retain the services of this man Socrates, as I said in the beginning. If my boys were the same age, this is what I would do.

  NICIAS: And I agree: if Socrates is really willing to undertake the supervision of the boys, then don’t look for anyone else. In fact I would gladly [d] entrust Niceratus to him, if he is willing. But whenever I bring up the subject in any way, he always recommends other people to me but is unwilling to take on the job himself. But see if Socrates might be more willing to listen to you, Lysimachus.

  LYSIMACHUS: Well, he should, Nicias, since I myself would be willing to do a great many things for him which I would not be willing to do for practically anyone else. What do you say, Socrates? Will you comply with our request and take an active part with us in helping the young men to become as good as possible?