Complete Works (367 page)

The view espoused at the end of
On Virtue,
that virtue comes about by divine allotment, not only echoes Socrates’ comments at the end of Plato’s
Meno;
it is of a piece with Plato’s view that philosophers should rule and that their rule might come about by divine allotment (
Letter
VII 326a–b
, Republic
473c–d). Theological support for this view of god is given by Plato at
Laws
715e–716d. Aristotle also uses some of the imagery and expressions found at the end of
On Virtue (Eudemian Ethics
1246b37–1247a13 and 1248b3–7
, Nicomachean Ethics
1145a20–29
, Politics
1284a3–11)
.

Most manuscripts of
On Virtue
list as speakers ‘Socrates, Friend’, but two say ‘Socrates, Meno’, and one says ‘Socrates, Hippotrophus [Horse-trainer]’; that Socrates is a speaker is clear from the dialogue itself, but the other three appellations are evidently guesses by later scholars. So it seems to have been transmitted during antiquity without any indication of who the speakers were. The same is true of the dialogue labeled
On Justice;
these two dialogues also lack titles of a normal Platonic sort and may be among those said in ancient lists of Platonic works to be ‘without a heading’. In this translation, we have decided to call the unknown interlocutor ‘Friend’.

D.S.H.

S
OCRATES
: Can virtue be taught? If not, do men become good by nature, or in some other way?
[376]

F
RIEND
: I can’t give you an answer right now, Socrates. [b]

S
OCRATES
: Well now, let’s consider it. Tell me, if someone wanted to become good with the virtue that makes expert chefs good, how would he do it?

F
RIEND
: By learning from good chefs, obviously.

S
OCRATES
: Good. Now if he wanted to become a good doctor, to whom would he go to become a good doctor?

F
RIEND
: That’s obvious—to one of the good doctors.

S
OCRATES
: And if he wanted to become good with the virtue that makes [c] expert builders good?

F
RIEND
: To one of the builders.

S
OCRATES
: And if he had wanted to become good with the virtue that makes men wise and good, where must he go to learn it?

F
RIEND
: This virtue, too, if it
can
be learned, I suppose he’d have to learn from good men. Where else?

S
OCRATES
: Then tell me, who were the good men of our city? Let’s consider if these are the ones who make men good.

F
RIEND
: Thucydides, Themistocles, Aristides, and Pericles. [d]

S
OCRATES
: Can we name a teacher for each of them?

F
RIEND
: No, we can’t; I haven’t heard of any.

S
OCRATES
: Well then, can we name a student, either a foreigner or a citizen, or anybody else, either free or slave, who is reputed to have become wise and good by associating with these men?

F
RIEND
: I haven’t heard of anybody.

S
OCRATES
: Might they not have been too jealous to share their virtue with other men?

F
RIEND
: Maybe.

S
OCRATES
: Just as chefs, doctors and builders are jealous—that way they won’t have any rivals. For it isn’t profitable for them to have many rivals or to live among many similar professionals. Is it similarly unprofitable for good men to live among men like themselves?

F
RIEND
: Probably.

S
OCRATES
: But aren’t they just, as well as good?

F
RIEND
: Yes.

S
OCRATES
: Does it profit someone to live not among good, but among bad men?

F
RIEND
: I can’t tell you.

S
OCRATES
: Well, can you tell me this—whether it’s the business of good men to harm, and of bad men to help or
vice versa
?

F
RIEND
:
Vice versa
.

[377]
S
OCRATES
: The good, therefore, help, and the evil harm?

F
RIEND
: Yes.

S
OCRATES
: Is there anyone who wants to be harmed rather than be helped?

F
RIEND
: Of course not.

S
OCRATES
: Therefore, no one wants to live among bad rather than good men.

F
RIEND
: That’s right.

S
OCRATES
: Therefore, no good man will be too jealous to make another man good and similar to himself.

F
RIEND
: Apparently not, according to that argument.

SO
CRATES
: Have you heard that Cleophantus was the son of Themistocles?

F
RIEND
: I’ve heard that.

S
OCRATES
: Isn’t it obvious that Themistocles would not have begrudged his son becoming the best—Themistocles, a man who wouldn’t have begrudged that to anyone, if he really was good, which he was, as we admit.

[b] F
RIEND
: Yes.

S
OCRATES
: Did you realize that Themistocles taught his son to be an expert horseman—he could ride standing upright on his horse, he could throw a javelin from this position, and he could perform many other remarkable feats—his father taught him and made him an expert in many other things that require good teachers. Haven’t you heard that from the older generation?

F
RIEND
: I have.

[c] S
OCRATES
: So no one could criticize his son’s natural ability as bad.

F
RIEND
: Not rightly, at least from what you say.

S
OCRATES
: What about this? Have you ever heard anyone—young or old—say that Cleophantus, the son of Themistocles, was a wise and good man in the way that his father was wise?

F
RIEND
: Never.

S
OCRATES
: Are we to suppose, then, that he wanted to teach his son those things, but he didn’t want to make him better than any of his neighbors in the wisdom that he himself enjoyed, if virtue can indeed be taught?

[d] F
RIEND
: That isn’t very likely.

S
OCRATES
: And yet he was just the sort of teacher of virtue that you suggested. But let’s consider another man, Aristides, who raised Lysimachus. He gave his son the best Athenian education in matters which require teachers, but he made him no better than anyone else. Both you and I know this, for we’ve spent time with him.

F
RIEND
: Yes.

S
OCRATES
: And you know that Pericles, too, raised his sons Paralus and Xanthippus—in fact, I think you were in love with one of them. As you [e] know, he taught them horsemanship—and they were as good as any Athenian—the liberal arts, and athletic games; he brought them up to be as good as anyone at every skill for which there are teachers; and yet he didn’t want to make them good men?

F
RIEND
: But perhaps they would have been, Socrates, if they hadn’t died young.

S
OCRATES
: You’re coming to the aid of your boyfriend, which is fair enough. But if virtue were teachable and if it were possible to make men good, Pericles would certainly have made his sons expert in his own virtue rather than in the liberal arts or athletic games. But it doesn’t seem to
[378]
be teachable, since Thucydides, as well, raised two sons, Melesias and Stephanus, and you cannot say about them what you said about the sons of Pericles, for you know very well that one lived to a ripe old age, and the other much longer. Indeed, their father taught them well, especially to be the finest wrestlers in Athens. He sent one to Xanthias and the other to Eudorus—weren’t they supposed to be the finest wrestlers of the day?

F
RIEND
: Yes.

S
OCRATES
: So it’s clear that he would never have taught his sons what [b] he had to spend money on, when he could have made them good without spending anything—wouldn’t he have taught them to be good, if it could be taught?

F
RIEND
: That seems likely.

S
OCRATES
: But perhaps Thucydides was a commoner, and he didn’t have many friends among the Athenians and their allies? No, but he was from a great household, and he was able to do great things here in Athens and in other Greek cities. So, if virtue could be taught, he would have found [c] someone—either locally or abroad—who could have made his sons good, if he himself didn’t have the time because of his political affairs. No, my friend, it looks as if virtue can’t be taught.

F
RIEND
: No, probably not.

S
OCRATES
: Well then, if virtue isn’t teachable, are men naturally good? If we examine this in the following way, perhaps we might find out. Now then, do we think that good horses have particular natures?

F
RIEND
: They do.

S
OCRATES
: And aren’t there some men who have a skill by which they know the natures of the good horses, those physically fit for racing and [d] mentally spirited or else lethargic?

F
RIEND
: Yes.

S
OCRATES
: What, then, is this skill? What name does it have?

F
RIEND
: Horsemanship.

S
OCRATES
: And likewise for hunting dogs, is there some skill by which men can discern the good and bad natures of the dogs?

F
RIEND
: There is.

S
OCRATES
: What is it?

F
RIEND
: Huntsmanship.

S
OCRATES
: And what about gold and silver? Do we think there are moneychangers who separate the good coins from the bad by looking at them?

[e] F
RIEND
: There are.

S
OCRATES
: What do you call them?

F
RIEND
: Assayers.

S
OCRATES
: And again athletic coaches know by looking which traits of the human body are good or bad for each of the events, and in older or younger boys which are going to be their most valuable traits, where they have high hopes for them to succeed in what their bodies can perform well.

F
RIEND
: That’s true.

S
OCRATES
: Which of these is more important for cities: good horses, good
[379]
dogs, and so on, or good men?

F
RIEND
: Good men.

S
OCRATES
: Well? Don’t you think, if men had innate characters good for virtue, that people would make every effort to recognize them?

F
RIEND
: Very likely.

S
OCRATES
: Now can you tell me which skill is dedicated to, and capable of judging, the natural qualities of good men?

F
RIEND
: No, I can’t.

S
OCRATES
: And yet it would surely be worth a great deal, as would those [b] who possess it, for they could show us which of the young, while still boys, are going to be good. We would take them and guard them in the acropolis at public expense, like silver, only more carefully, so that no harm would come to them, from battle or any other danger. They would be stored up for the city as guards and benefactors when they came of age.

But really, I dare say that it’s neither by nature nor by teaching that men become virtuous.

[c] F
RIEND
: How then do you suppose, Socrates, that they become virtuous, if it’s neither by nature nor teaching? How else could they become good?

S
OCRATES
: I don’t think it’s very easy to explain this. My guess, however, is that the possession of virtue is very much a divine gift and that men become good just as the divine prophets and oracle-mongers do. For they become what they are neither by nature nor skill: it’s through the inspiration of the gods that they become what they are. Likewise, good men announce [d] to their cities the likely outcome of events and what is going to happen, by the inspiration of god, much better and much more clearly than the fortune-tellers. Even the women, I think, say that this sort of man is divine, and the Spartans, whenever they applaud someone in high style, say that he is divine. And often Homer uses this same compliment, as do other poets. Indeed, whenever a god wishes a city to become successful, he places good men in it, and whenever a city is slated to fail, the god takes the good men away from that city. So it seems that virtue is neither teachable nor natural, but comes by divine allotment to those who possess it.

DEMODOCUS

Translated by Jonathan Barnes.

What has come down to us under the title
Demodocus
seems to be a combination of two separate works: a monologue (addressed to Demodocus) which argues against collective decision-making (part I), and a trilogy of dialogues which raise doubts about three elements of common sense (parts II–IV). The trilogy may have been among the Platonic works said in antiquity to be ‘without a heading’, together with
On Justice
and
On Virtue.
At some point a scribe seems to have attached the trilogy to the end of
Demodocus I
by accident, which caused all subsequent copies to have the expanded format.

In
Demodocus I,
Socrates refuses Demodocus’ request to give advice on a matter soon to be discussed in a public meeting. He argues instead that the whole collective decision procedure (offering advice, listening to advice, and deciding the question by voting) is absurd. Both the content (which overlaps with that of
Sisyphus)
and the style of argument (which proceeds largely by dilemma) are Platonic enough, though the monologue form is unusual. The addressee, Demodocus, also appears in
Theages,
where he agrees with Socrates that advice is something sacred. The piece is probably later than mid-fourth century
B.C.
,
perhaps much later.