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  "chapter": {
    "num": 5,
    "slug": "05-lysis-or-friendship",
    "title": "Lysis, or Friendship",
    "of": 24,
    "words": 9157,
    "text": "## Lysis, or Friendship\n\n\n#### 380 BC\n\n#### translated by Benjamin Jowett\n\n##### New York, C. Scribner's Sons, [1871]\n\nPERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: SOCRATES, who is the narrator; MENEXENUS;\nHIPPOTHALES; LYSIS; CTESIPPUS. Scene: A newly-erected Palaestra\noutside the walls of Athens.\n\nI was going from the Academy straight to the Lyceum, intending to\ntake the outer road, which is close under the wall. When I came to the\npostern gate of the city, which is by the fountain of Panops, I fell\nin with Hippothales, the son of Hieronymus, and Ctesippus the\nPaeanian, and a company of young men who were standing with them.\nHippothales, seeing me approach, asked whence I came and whither I was\ngoing.\n\nI am going, I replied, from the Academy straight to the Lyceum.\n\nThen come straight to us, he said, and put in here; you may as well.\n\nWho are you, I said; and where am I to come?\n\nHe showed me an enclosed space and an open door over against the\nwall. And there, he said, is the building at which we all meet: and\na goodly company we are.\n\nAnd what is this building, I asked; and what sort of entertainment\nhave you?\n\nThe building, he replied, is a newly erected Palaestra; and the\nentertainment is generally conversation, to which you are welcome.\n\nThank you, I said; and is there any teacher there?\n\nYes, he said, your old friend and admirer, Miccus.\n\nIndeed, I replied; he is a very eminent professor.\n\nAre you disposed, he said, to go with me and see them?\n\nYes, I said; but I should like to know first, what is expected of\nme, and who is the favourite among you?\n\nSome persons have one favourite, Socrates, and some another, he\nsaid.\n\nAnd who is yours? I asked: tell me that, Hippothales.\n\nAt this he blushed; and I said to him, O Hippothales, thou son of\nHieronymus! do not say that you are, or that you are not, in love; the\nconfession is too late; for I see that you are not only in love, but\nare already far gone in your love. Simple and foolish as I am, the\nGods have given me the power of understanding affections of this kind.\n\nWhereupon he blushed more and more.\n\nCtesippus said: I like to see you blushing, Hippothales, and\nhesitating to tell Socrates the name; when, if he were with you but\nfor a very short time, you would have plagued him to death by\ntalking about nothing else. Indeed, Socrates, he has literally\ndeafened us, and stopped our ears with the praises of Lysis; and if he\nis a little intoxicated, there is every likelihood that we may have\nour sleep murdered with a cry of Lysis. His performances in prose\nare bad enough, but nothing at all in comparison with his verse; and\nwhen he drenches us with his poems and other compositions, it is\nreally too bad; and worse still is his manner of singing them to his\nlove; he has a voice which is truly appalling, and we cannot help\nhearing him: and now having a question put to him by you, behold he is\nblushing.\n\nWho is Lysis? I said: I suppose that he must be young; for the\nname does not recall any one to me.\n\nWhy, he said, his father being a very well known man, he retains his\npatronymic, and is not as yet commonly called by his own name; but,\nalthough you do not know his name, I am sure that you must know his\nface, for that is quite enough to distinguish him.\n\nBut tell me whose son he is, I said.\n\nHe is the eldest son of Democrates, of the deme of Aexone.\n\nAh, Hippothales, I said; what a noble and really perfect love you\nhave found! I wish that you would favour me with the exhibition\nwhich you have been making to the rest of the company, and then I\nshall be able to judge whether you know what a lover ought to say\nabout his love, either to the youth himself, or to others.\n\nNay, Socrates, he said; you surely do not attach any importance to\nwhat he is saying.\n\nDo you mean, I said, that you disown the love of the person whom\nhe says that you love?\n\nNo; but I deny that I make verses or address compositions to him.\n\nHe is not in his right mind, said Ctesippus; he is talking nonsense,\nand is stark mad.\n\nO Hippothales, I said, if you have ever made any verses or songs\nin honour of your favourite, I do not want to hear them; but I want to\nknow the purport of them, that I may be able to judge of your mode\nof approaching your fair one.\n\nCtesippus will be able to tell you, he said; for if, as he avers,\nthe sound of my words is always dinning in his ears, he must have a\nvery accurate knowledge and recollection of them.\n\nYes, indeed, said Ctesippus; I know only too well; and very\nridiculous the tale is: for although he is a lover, and very devotedly\nin love, he has nothing particular to talk about to his beloved\nwhich a child might not say. Now is not that ridiculous? He can only\nspeak of the wealth of Democrates, which the whole city celebrates,\nand grandfather Lysis, and the other ancestors of the youth, and their\nstud of horses, and their victory at the Pythian games, and at the\nIsthmus, and at Nemea with four horses and single horses-these are the\ntales which he composes and repeats. And there is greater twaddle\nstill. Only the day before yesterday he made a poem in which he\ndescribed the entertainment of Heracles, who was a connexion of the\nfamily, setting forth how in virtue of this relationship he was\nhospitably received by an ancestor of Lysis; this ancestor was himself\nbegotten of Zeus by the daughter of the founder of the deme. And these\nare the sort of old wives' tales which he sings and recites to us, and\nwe are obliged to listen to him.\n\nWhen I heard this, I said: O ridiculous Hippothales! how can you\nbe making and singing hymns in honour of yourself before you have won?\n\nBut my songs and verses, he said, are not in honour of myself,\nSocrates.\n\nYou think not? I said.\n\nNay, but what do you think? he replied.\n\nMost assuredly, I said, those songs are all in your own honour;\nfor if you win your beautiful love, your discourses and songs will\nbe a glory, to you, and may be truly regarded as hymns of praise\ncomposed in honour of you who have conquered and won such a love;\nbut if he slips away from you, the more you have praised him, the more\nridiculous you will look at having lost this fairest and best of\nblessings; and therefore the wise lover does not praise his beloved\nuntil he has won him, because he is afraid of accidents. There is also\nanother danger; the fair, when any one praises or magnifies them,\nare filled with the spirit of pride and vain-glory. Do you not agree\nwith me?\n\nYes, he said.\n\nAnd the more vain-glorious they are, the more difficult is the\ncapture of them?\n\nI believe you.\n\nWhat should you say of a hunter who frightened away his prey, and\nmade the capture of the animals which he is hunting more difficult?\n\nHe would be a bad hunter, undoubtedly.\n\nYes; and if, instead of soothing them, he were to infuriate them\nwith words and songs, that would show a great want of wit: do you\nnot agree.\n\nYes.\n\nAnd now reflect, Hippothales, and see whether you are not guilty\nof all these errors in writing poetry. For I can hardly suppose that\nyou will affirm a man to be a good poet who injures himself by his\npoetry.\n\nAssuredly not, he said; such a poet would be a fool. And this is the\nreason why I take you into my counsels, Socrates, and I shall be\nglad of any further advice which you may have to offer. Will you\ntell me by what words or actions I may become endeared to my love?\n\nThat is not easy to determine, I said; but if you will bring your\nlove to me, and will let me talk with him, I may perhaps be able to\nshow you how to converse with him, instead of singing and reciting\nin the fashion of which you are accused.\n\nThere will be no difficulty in bringing him, he replied; if you will\nonly go with Ctesippus into the Palaestra, and sit down and talk, I\nbelieve that he will come of his own accord; for he is fond of\nlistening, Socrates. And as this is the festival of the Hermaea, the\nyoung men and boys are all together, and there is no separation\nbetween them. He will be sure to come: but if he does not, Ctesippus\nwith whom he is familiar, and whose relation Menexenus is his great\nfriend, shall call him.\n\nThat will be the way, I said. Thereupon I led Ctesippus into the\nPalaestra, and the rest followed.\n\nUpon entering we found that the boys had just been sacrificing;\nand this part of the festival was nearly at an end. They were all in\ntheir white array, and games at dice were going on among them. Most of\nthem were in the outer court amusing themselves; but some were in a\ncorner of the Apodyterium playing at odd and even with a number of\ndice, which they took out of little wicker baskets. There was also a\ncircle of lookers-on; among them was Lysis. He was standing with the\nother boys and youths, having a crown upon his head, like a fair\nvision, and not less worthy of praise for his goodness than for his\nbeauty. We left them, and went over to the opposite side of the\nroom, where, finding a quiet place, we sat down; and then we began\nto talk. This attracted Lysis, who was constantly turning round to\nlook at us -he was evidently wanting to come to us. For a time he\nhesitated and had not the courage to come alone; but first of all, his\nfriend Menexenus, leaving his play, entered the Palaestra from the\ncourt, and when he saw Ctesippus and myself, was going to take a\nseat by us; and then Lysis, seeing him, followed, and sat down by\nhis side; and the other boys joined. I should observe that\nHippothales, when he saw the crowd, got behind them, where he\nthought that he would be out of sight of Lysis, lest he should anger\nhim; and there he stood and listened.\n\nI turned to Menexenus, and said: Son of Demophon, which of you two\nyouths is the elder?\n\nThat is a matter of dispute between us, he said.\n\nAnd which is the nobler? Is that also a matter of dispute?\n\nYes, certainly.\n\nAnd another disputed point is, which is the fairer?\n\nThe two boys laughed.\n\nI shall not ask which is the richer of the two, I said; for you\nare friends, are you not?\n\nCertainly, they replied.\n\nAnd friends have all things in common, so that one of you can be\nno richer than the other, if you say truly that you are friends.\n\nThey assented. I was about to ask which was the juster of the two,\nand which was the wiser of the two; but at this moment Menexenus was\ncalled away by some one who came and said that the gymnastic-master\nwanted him. I supposed that he had to offer sacrifice. So he went\naway, and I asked Lysis some more questions. I dare say, Lysis, I\nsaid, that your father and mother love you very much.\n\nCertainly, he said.\n\nAnd they would wish you to be perfectly happy.\n\nYes.\n\nBut do you think that any one is happy who is in the condition of\na slave, and who cannot do what he likes?\n\nI should think not indeed, he said.\n\nAnd if your father and mother love you, and desire that you should\nbe happy, no one can doubt that they are very ready to promote your\nhappiness.\n\nCertainly, he replied.\n\nAnd do they then permit you to do what you like, and never rebuke\nyou or hinder you from doing what you desire?\n\nYes, indeed, Socrates; there are a great many things which they\nhinder me from doing.\n\nWhat do you mean? I said. Do they want you to be happy, and yet\nhinder you from doing what you like? For example, if you want to mount\none of your father's chariots, and take the reins at a race, they will\nnot allow you to do so-they will prevent you?\n\nCertainly, he said, they will not allow me to do so.\n\nWhom then will they allow?\n\nThere is a charioteer, whom my father pays for driving.\n\nAnd do they trust a hireling more than you? and may he do what he\nlikes with the horses? and do they pay him for this?\n\nThey do.\n\nBut I dare say that you may take the whip and guide the mule-cart if\nyou like;-they will permit that?\n\nPermit me! indeed they will not.\n\nThen, I said, may no one use the whip to the mules?\n\nYes, he said, the muleteer.\n\nAnd is he a slave or a free man?\n\nA slave, he said.\n\nAnd do they esteem a slave of more value than you who are their son?\nAnd do they entrust their property to him rather than to you? and\nallow him to do what he likes, when they prohibit you? Answer me\nnow: Are you your own master, or do they not even allow that?\n\nNay, he said; of course they do not allow it.\n\nThen you have a master?\n\nYes, my tutor; there he is.\n\nAnd is he a slave?\n\nTo be sure; he is our slave, he replied.\n\nSurely, I said, this is a strange thing, that a free man should be\ngoverned by a slave. And what does he do with you?\n\nHe takes me to my teachers.\n\nYou do not mean to say that your teachers also rule over you?\n\nOf course they do.\n\nThen I must say that your father is pleased to inflict many lords\nand masters on you. But at any rate when you go home to your mother,\nshe will let you have your own way, and will not interfere with your\nhappiness; her wool, or the piece of cloth which she is weaving, are\nat your disposal: I am sure that there is nothing to hinder you from\ntouching her wooden spathe, or her comb, or any other of her\nspinning implements.\n\nNay, Socrates, he replied, laughing; not only does she hinder me,\nbut I should be beaten if I were to touch one of them.\n\nWell, I said, this is amazing. And did you ever behave ill to your\nfather or your mother?\n\nNo, indeed, he replied.\n\nBut why then are they so terribly anxious to prevent you from\nbeing happy, and doing as you like?-keeping you all day long in\nsubjection to another, and, in a word, doing nothing which you desire;\nso that you have no good, as would appear, out of their great\npossessions, which are under the control of anybody rather than of\nyou, and have no use of your own fair person, which is tended and\ntaken care of by another; while you, Lysis, are master of nobody,\nand can do nothing?\n\nWhy, he said, Socrates, the reason is that I am not of age.\n\nI doubt whether that is the real reason, I said; for I should\nimagine that your father Democrates, and your mother, do permit you to\ndo many things already, and do not wait until you are of age: for\nexample, if they want anything read or written, you, I presume,\nwould be the first person in the house who is summoned by them.\n\nVery true.\n\nAnd you would be allowed to write or read the letters in any order\nwhich you please, or to take up the lyre and tune the notes, and\nplay with the fingers, or strike with the plectrum, exactly as you\nplease, and neither father nor mother would interfere with you.\n\nThat is true, he said.\n\nThen what can be the reason, Lysis, I said, why they allow you to do\nthe one and not the other?\n\nI suppose, he said, because I understand the one, and not the other.\n\nYes, my dear youth, I said, the reason is not any deficiency of\nyears, but a deficiency of knowledge; and whenever your father\nthinks that you are wiser than he is, he will instantly commit himself\nand his possessions to you.\n\nI think so.\n\nAye, I said; and about your neighbour, too, does not the same rule\nhold as about your father? If he is satisfied that you know more of\nhousekeeping than he does, will he continue to administer his\naffairs himself, or will he commit them to you?\n\nI think that he will commit them to me.\n\nWill not the Athenian people, too, entrust their affairs to you when\nthey see that you have wisdom enough to manage them?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd oh! let me put another case, I said: There is the great king,\nand he has an eldest son, who is the Prince of Asia;-suppose that\nyou and I go to him and establish to his satisfaction that we are\nbetter cooks than his son, will he not entrust to us the prerogative\nof making soup, and putting in anything that we like while the pot\nis boiling, rather than to the Prince of Asia, who is his son?\n\nTo us, clearly.\n\nAnd we shall be allowed to throw in salt by handfuls, whereas the\nson will not be allowed to put in as much as he can take up between\nhis fingers?\n\nOf course.\n\nOr suppose again that the son has bad eyes, will he allow him, or\nwill he not allow him, to touch his own eyes if he thinks that he\nhas no knowledge of medicine?\n\nHe will not allow him.\n\nWhereas, if he supposes us to have a knowledge of medicine, he\nwill allow us to do what we like with him-even to open the eyes wide\nand sprinkle ashes upon them, because he supposes that we know what is\nbest?\n\nThat is true.\n\nAnd everything in which we appear to him to be wiser than himself or\nhis son he will commit to us?\n\nThat is very true, Socrates, he replied.\n\nThen now, my dear Lysis, I said, you perceive that in things which\nwe know every one will trust us-Hellenes and barbarians, men and\nwomen-and we may do as we please about them, and no one will like to\ninterfere with us; we shall be free, and masters of others; and\nthese things will be really ours, for we shall be benefited by them.\nBut in things of which we have no understanding, no one will trust\nus to do as seems good to us-they will hinder us as far as they can;\nand not only strangers, but father and mother, and the friend, if\nthere be one, who is dearer still, will also hinder us; and we shall\nbe subject to others; and these things will not be ours, for we\nshall not be benefited by them. Do you agree?\n\nHe assented.\n\nAnd shall we be friends to others, and will any others love us, in\nas far as we are useless to them?\n\nCertainly not.\n\nNeither can your father or mother love you, nor can anybody love\nanybody else, in so far as they are useless to them?\n\nNo.\n\nAnd therefore, my boy, if you are wise, -all men will be your\nfriends and kindred, for you will be useful and good; but if you are\nnot wise, neither father, nor mother, nor kindred, nor any one else,\nwill be your friends. And in matters of which you have as yet no\nknowledge, can you have any conceit of knowledge?\n\nThat is impossible, he replied.\n\nAnd you, Lysis, if you require a teacher, have not yet attained to\nwisdom.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd therefore you are not conceited, having nothing of which to be\nconceited.\n\nIndeed, Socrates, I think not.\n\nWhen I heard him say this, I turned to Hippothales, and was very\nnearly making a blunder, for I was going to say to him: That is the\nway, Hippothales, in which you should talk to your beloved, humbling\nand lowering him, and not as you do, puffing him up and spoiling\nhim. But I saw that he was in great excitement and confusion at what\nhad been said, and I remembered that, although he was in the\nneighbourhood, he did not want to be seen by Lysis; so upon second\nthoughts I refrained.\n\nIn the meantime Menexenus came back and sat down in his place by\nLysis; and Lysis, in a childish and affectionate manner, whispered\nprivately in my ear, so that Menexenus should not hear: Do,\nSocrates, tell Menexenus what you have been telling me.\n\nSuppose that you tell him yourself, Lysis, I replied; for I am\nsure that you were attending.\n\nCertainly, he replied.\n\nTry, then, to remember the words, and be as exact as you can in\nrepeating them to him, and if you have forgotten anything, ask me\nagain the next time that you see me.\n\nI will be sure to do so, Socrates; but go on telling him something\nnew, and let me hear, as long as I am allowed to stay.\n\nI certainly cannot refuse, I said, since you ask me; but then, as\nyou know, Menexenus is very pugnacious, and therefore you must come to\nthe rescue if he attempts to upset me.\n\nYes, indeed, he said; he is very pugnacious, and that is the\nreason why I want you to argue with him.\n\nThat I may make a fool of myself?\n\nNo, indeed, he said; but I want you to put him down.\n\nThat is no easy matter, I replied; for he is a terrible fellow-a\npupil of Ctesippus. And there is Ctesippus himself: do you see him?\n\nNever mind, Socrates, you shall argue with him.\n\nWell, I suppose that I must, I replied.\n\nHereupon Ctesippus complained that we were talking in secret, and\nkeeping the feast to ourselves.\n\nI shall be happy, I said, to let you have a share. Here is Lysis,\nwho does not understand something that I was saying, and wants me to\nask Menexenus, who, as he thinks, is likely to know.\n\nAnd why do you not ask him? he said.\n\nVery well, I said, I will; and do you, Menexenus, answer. But\nfirst I must tell you that I am one who from my childhood upward\nhave set my heart upon a certain thing. All people have their fancies;\nsome desire horses, and others dogs; and some are fond of gold, and\nothers of honour. Now, I have no violent desire of any of these\nthings; but I have a passion for friends; and I would rather have a\ngood friend than the best cock or quail in the world: I would even\ngo further, and say the best horse or dog. Yea, by the dog of Egypt, I\nshould greatly prefer a real friend to all the gold of Darius, or even\nto Darius himself: I am such a lover of friends as that. And when I\nsee you and Lysis, at your early age, so easily possessed of this\ntreasure, and so soon, he of you, and you of him, I am amazed and\ndelighted, seeing that I myself, although I am now advanced in\nyears, am so far from having made a similar acquisition, that I do not\neven know in what way a friend is acquired. But want to ask you a\nquestion about this, for you have experience: tell me then, when one\nloves another, is the lover or the beloved the friend; or may either\nbe the friend?\n\nEither may, I should think, be the friend of either.\n\nDo you mean, I said, that if only one of them loves the other,\nthey are mutual friends?\n\nYes, he said; that is my meaning.\n\nBut what if the lover is not loved in return? which is a very\npossible case.\n\nYes.\n\nOr is, perhaps, even hated? which is a fancy which sometimes is\nentertained by lovers respecting their beloved. Nothing can exceed\ntheir love; and yet they imagine either that they are not loved in\nreturn, or that they are hated. Is not that true?\n\nYes, he said, quite true.\n\nIn that case, the one loves, and the other is loved?\n\nYes.\n\nThen which is the friend of which? Is the lover the friend of the\nbeloved, whether he be loved in return, or hated; or is the beloved\nthe friend; or is there no friendship at all on either side, unless\nthey both love one another?\n\nThere would seem to be none at all.\n\nThen this notion is not in accordance with our previous one. We were\nsaying that both were friends, if one only loved; but now, unless they\nboth love, neither is a friend.\n\nThat appears to be true.\n\nThen nothing which does not love in return is beloved by a lover?\n\nI think not.\n\nThen they are not lovers of horses, whom the horses do not love in\nreturn; nor lovers of quails, nor of dogs, nor of wine, nor of\ngymnastic exercises, who have no return of love; no, nor of wisdom,\nunless wisdom loves them in return. Or shall we say that they do\nlove them, although they are not beloved by them; and that the poet\nwas wrong who sings-\n\nHappy the man to whom his children are dear, and steeds having\nsingle hoofs, and dogs of chase, and the stranger of another land?\n\nI do not think that he was wrong.\n\nYou think that he is right?\n\nYes.\n\nThen, Menexenus, the conclusion is, that what is beloved, whether\nloving or hating, may be dear to the lover of it: for example, very\nyoung children, too young to love, or even hating their father or\nmother when they are punished by them, are never dearer to them than\nat the time when they are being hated by them.\n\nI think that what you say is true.\n\nAnd, if so, not the lover, but the beloved, is the friend or dear\none?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd the hated one, and not the hater, is the enemy?\n\nClearly.\n\nThen many men are loved by their enemies, and hated by their\nfriends, and are the friends of their enemies, and the enemies of\ntheir friends. Yet how absurd, my dear friend, or indeed impossible is\nthis paradox of a man being an enemy to his friend or a friend to\nhis enemy.\n\nI quite agree, Socrates, in what you say.\n\nBut if this cannot be, the lover will be the friend of that which is\nloved?\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd the hater will be the enemy of that which is hated?\n\nCertainly.\n\nYet we must acknowledge in this, as in the preceding instance,\nthat a man may be the friend of one who is not his friend, or who\nmay be his enemy, when he loves that which does not love him or\nwhich even hates him. And he may be the enemy of one who is not his\nenemy, and is even his friend: for example, when he hates that which\ndoes not hate him, or which even loves him.\n\nThat appears to be true.\n\nBut if the lover is not a friend, nor the beloved a friend, nor both\ntogether, what are we to say? Whom are we to call friends to one\nanother? Do any remain?\n\nIndeed, Socrates, I cannot find any.\n\nBut, O Menexenus! I said, may we not have been altogether wrong in\nour conclusions?\n\nI am sure that we have been wrong, Socrates, said Lysis. And he\nblushed as he spoke, the words seeming to come from his lips\ninvoluntarily, because his whole mind was taken up with the\nargument; there was no mistaking his attentive look while he was\nlistening.\n\nI was pleased at the interest which was shown by Lysis, and I wanted\nto give Menexenus a rest, so I turned to him and said, I think, Lysis,\nthat what you say is true, and that, if we had been right, we should\nnever have gone so far wrong; let us proceed no further in this\ndirection (for the road seems to be getting troublesome), but take the\nother path into which we turned, and see what the poets have to say;\nfor they are to us in a manner the fathers and authors of wisdom,\nand they speak of friends in no light or trivial manner, but God\nhimself, as they say, makes them and draws them to one another; and\nthis they express, if I am not mistaken, in the following words:-\n\nGod is ever drawing like towards like, and\n\nmaking them acquainted.\n\nI dare say that you have heard those words.\n\nYes, he said; I have.\n\nAnd have you not also met with the treatises of philosophers who say\nthat like must love like? they are the people who argue and write\nabout nature and the universe.\n\nVery true, he replied.\n\nAnd are they right in saying this?\n\nThey may be.\n\nPerhaps, I said, about half, or possibly, altogether, right, if\ntheir meaning were rightly apprehended by us. For the more a bad man\nhas to do with a bad man, and the more nearly he is brought into\ncontact with him, the more he will be likely to hate him, for he\ninjures him; and injurer and injured cannot be friends. Is not that\ntrue?\n\nYes, he said.\n\nThen one half of the saying is untrue, if the wicked are like one\nanother?\n\nThat is true.\n\nBut the real meaning of the saying, as I imagine, is, that, the good\nare like one another, friends to one another; and that the bad, as\nis often said of them, are never at unity with one another or with\nthemselves; for they are passionate and restless, and anything which\nis at variance and enmity with itself is not likely to be in union\nor harmony with any other thing. Do you not agree?\n\nYes, I do.\n\nThen, my friend, those who say that the like is friendly to the like\nmean to intimate, if I rightly apprehend them, that the good only is\nthe friend of the good, and of him only; but that the evil never\nattains to any real friendship, either with good or evil. Do you\nagree?\n\nHe nodded assent.\n\nThen now we know how to answer the question \"Who are friends? for\nthe argument declares \"That the good are friends.\"\n\nYes, he said, that is true.\n\nYes, I replied; and yet I am not quite satisfied with this answer.\nBy heaven, and shall I tell you what I suspect? I will. Assuming\nthat like, inasmuch as he is like, is the friend of like, and useful\nto him-or rather let me try another way of putting the matter: Can\nlike do any good or harm to like which he could not do to himself,\nor suffer anything from his like which he would not suffer from\nhimself? And if neither can be of any use to the other, how can they\nbe loved by one another? Can they now?\n\nThey cannot.\n\nAnd can he who is not loved be a friend?\n\nCertainly not.\n\nBut say that the like is not the friend of the like in so far as\nhe is like; still the good may be the friend of the good in so far\nas he is good?\n\nTrue.\n\nBut then again, will not the good, in so far as he is good, be\nsufficient for himself? Certainly he will. And he who is sufficient\nwants nothing-that is implied in the word sufficient.\n\nOf course not.\n\nAnd he who wants nothing will desire nothing?\n\nHe will not.\n\nNeither can he love that which he does not desire?\n\nHe cannot.\n\nAnd he who not is not a lover of friend?\n\nClearly not.\n\nWhat place then is there for friendship, if, when absent, good men\nhave no need of one another (for even when alone they are sufficient\nfor themselves), and when present have no use of one another? How\ncan such persons ever be induced to value one another?\n\nThey cannot.\n\nAnd friends they cannot be, unless they value one another?\n\nVery true.\n\nBut see now, Lysis, whether we are not being deceived in all\nthis-are we not indeed entirely wrong?\n\nHow so? he replied.\n\nHave I not heard some one say, as I just now recollect, that the\nlike is the greatest enemy of the like, the good of the good?-Yes, and\nhe quoted the authority of Hesiod, who says:\n\nPotter quarrels with potter, hard with bard,\n\nBeggar with beggar;\n\nand of all other things he affirmed, in like manner, \"That of\nnecessity the most like are most full of envy, strife, and hatred of\none another, and the most unlike, of friendship. For the poor man is\ncompelled to be the friend of the rich, and the weak requires the\naid of the strong, and the sick man of the physician; and every one\nwho is ignorant, has to love and court him who knows.\" And indeed he\nwent on to say in grandiloquent language, that the idea of\nfriendship existing between similars is not the truth, but the very\nreverse of the truth, and that the most opposed are the most friendly;\nfor that everything desires not like but that which is most unlike:\nfor example, the dry desires the moist, the cold the hot, the bitter\nthe sweet, the sharp the blunt, the void the full, the full the\nvoid, and so of all other things; for the opposite is the food of\nthe opposite, whereas like receives nothing from like. And I thought\nthat he who said this was a charming man, and that he spoke well. What\ndo the rest of you say?\n\nI should say, at first hearing, that he is right, said Menexenus.\n\nThen we are to say that the greatest friendship is of opposites?\n\nExactly.\n\nYes, Menexenus; but will not that be a monstrous answer? and will\nnot the all-wise eristics be down upon us in triumph, and ask,\nfairly enough, whether love is not the very opposite of hate; and what\nanswer shall we make to them-must we not admit that they speak the\ntruth?\n\nWe must.\n\nThey will then proceed to ask whether the enemy is the friend of the\nfriend, or the friend the friend of the enemy?\n\nNeither, he replied.\n\nWell, but is a just man the friend of the unjust, or the temperate\nof the intemperate, or the good of the bad?\n\nI do not see how that is possible.\n\nAnd yet, I said, if friendship goes by contraries, the contraries\nmust be friends.\n\nThey must.\n\nThen neither like and like nor unlike and unlike are friends.\n\nI suppose not.\n\nAnd yet there is a further consideration: may not all these\nnotions of friendship be erroneous? but may not that which is\nneither good nor evil still in some cases be the friend of the good?\n\nHow do you mean? he said.\n\nWhy really, I said, the truth is that I do not know; but my head\nis dizzy with thinking of the argument, and therefore I hazard the\nconjecture, that \"the beautiful is the friend,\" as the old proverb\nsays. Beauty is certainly a soft, smooth, slippery thing, and\ntherefore of a nature which easily slips in and permeates our souls.\nFor I affirm that the good is the beautiful. You will agree to that?\n\nYes.\n\nThis I say from a sort of notion that what is neither good nor\nevil is the friend of the beautiful and the good, and I will tell\nyou why I am inclined to think so: I assume that there are three\nprinciples-the good, the bad, and that which is neither good nor\nbad. You would agree-would you not?\n\nI agree.\n\nAnd neither is the good the friend of the good, nor the evil of\nthe good, nor the good of the evil;-these alternatives are excluded by\nthe previous argument; and therefore, if there be such a thing as\nfriendship or love at all, we must infer that what is neither good nor\nevil must be the friend, either of the good, or of that which is\nneither good nor evil, for nothing can be the friend of the bad.\n\nTrue.\n\nBut neither can like be the friend of like, as we were just now\nsaying.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd if so, that which is neither good nor evil can have no friend\nwhich is neither good nor evil.\n\nClearly not.\n\nThen the good alone is the friend of that only which is neither good\nnor evil.\n\nThat may be assumed to be certain.\n\nAnd does not this seem to put us in the right way? Just remark, that\nthe body which is in health requires neither medical nor any other\naid, but is well enough; and the healthy man has no love of the\nphysician, because he is in health.\n\nHe has none.\n\nBut the sick loves him, because he is sick?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd sickness is an evil, and the art of medicine a good and useful\nthing?\n\nYes.\n\nBut the human body, regarded as a body, is neither good nor evil?\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd the body is compelled by reason of disease to court and make\nfriends of the art of medicine?\n\nYes.\n\nThen that which is neither good nor evil becomes the friend of good,\nby reason of the presence of evil?\n\nSo we may infer.\n\nAnd clearly this must have happened before that which was neither\ngood nor evil had become altogether corrupted with the element of\nevil-if itself had become evil it would not still desire and love\nthe good; for, as we were saying, the evil cannot be the friend of the\ngood.\n\nImpossible.\n\nFurther, I must observe that some substances are assimilated when\nothers are present with them; and there are some which are not\nassimilated: take, for example, the case of an ointment or colour\nwhich is put on another substance.\n\nVery good.\n\nIn such a case, is the substance which is anointed the same as the\ncolour or ointment?\n\nWhat do you mean? he said.\n\nThis is what I mean: Suppose that I were to cover your auburn\nlocks with white lead, would they be really white, or would they\nonly appear to be white?\n\nThey would only appear to be white, he replied.\n\nAnd yet whiteness would be present in them?\n\nTrue.\n\nBut that would not make them at all the more white,\nnotwithstanding the presence of white in them-they would not be\nwhite any more than black?\n\nNo.\n\nBut when old age infuses whiteness into them, then they become\nassimilated, and are white by the presence of white.\n\nCertainly.\n\nNow I want to know whether in all cases a substance is assimilated\nby the presence of another substance; or must the presence be after\na peculiar sort?\n\nThe latter, he said.\n\nThen that which is neither good nor evil may be in the presence of\nevil, but not as yet evil, and that has happened before now?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd when anything is in the presence of evil, not being as yet evil,\nthe presence of good arouses the desire of good in that thing; but the\npresence of evil, which makes a thing evil, takes away the desire\nand friendship of the good; for that which was once both good and evil\nhas now become evil only, and the good was supposed to have no\nfriendship with the evil?\n\nNone.\n\nAnd therefore we say that those who are already wise, whether Gods\nor men, are no longer lovers of wisdom; nor can they be lovers of\nwisdom who are ignorant to the extent of being evil, for no evil or\nignorant person is a lover of wisdom. There remain those who have\nthe misfortune to be ignorant, but are not yet hardened in their\nignorance, or void of understanding, and do not as yet fancy that they\nknow what they do not know: and therefore those who are the lovers\nof wisdom are as yet neither good nor bad. But the bad do not love\nwisdom any more than the good; for, as we have already seen, neither\nis unlike the friend of unlike, nor like of like. You remember that?\n\nYes, they both said.\n\nAnd so, Lysis and Menexenus, we have discovered the nature of\nfriendship-there can be no doubt of it: Friendship is the love which\nby reason of the presence of evil the neither good nor evil has of the\ngood, either in the soul, or in the body, or anywhere.\n\nThey both agreed and entirely assented, and for a moment I\nrejoiced and was satisfied like a huntsman just holding fast his prey.\nBut then a most unaccountable suspicion came across me, and I felt\nthat the conclusion was untrue. I was pained, and said, Alas! Lysis\nand Menexenus, I am afraid that we have been grasping at a shadow\nonly.\n\nWhy do you say so? said Menexenus.\n\nI am afraid, I said, that the argument about friendship is false:\narguments, like men, are often pretenders.\n\nHow do you mean? he asked.\n\nWell, I said; look at the matter in this way: a friend is the friend\nof some one; is he not?\n\nCertainly he is.\n\nAnd has he a motive and object in being a friend, or has he no\nmotive and object?\n\nHe has a motive and object.\n\nAnd is the object which makes him a friend, dear to him, neither\ndear nor hateful to him?\n\nI do not quite follow you, he said.\n\nI do not wonder at that, I said. But perhaps, if I put the matter in\nanother way, you will be able to follow me, and my own meaning will be\nclearer to myself. The sick man, as I was just now saying, is the\nfriend of the physician-is he not?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd he is the friend of the physician because of disease, and for\nthe sake of health?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd disease is an evil?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd what of health? I said. Is that good or evil, or neither?\n\nGood, he replied.\n\nAnd we were saying, I believe, that the body being neither good\nnor evil, because of disease, that is to say because of evil, is the\nfriend of medicine, and medicine is a good: and medicine has entered\ninto this friendship for the sake of health, and health is a good.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd is health a friend, or not a friend?\n\nA friend.\n\nAnd disease is an enemy?\n\nYes.\n\nThen that which is neither good nor evil is the friend of the good\nbecause of the evil and hateful, and for the sake of the good and\nthe friend?\n\nClearly.\n\nThen the friend is a friend for the sake of the friend, and\nbecause of the enemy?\n\nThat is to be inferred.\n\nThen at this point, my boys, let us take heed, and be on our guard\nagainst deceptions. I will not again repeat that the friend is the\nfriend of the friend, and the like of the like, which has been\ndeclared by us to be an impossibility; but, in order that this new\nstatement may not delude us, let us attentively examine another point,\nwhich I will proceed to explain: Medicine, as we were saying, is a\nfriend, dear to us for the sake of health?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd health is also dear?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd if dear, then dear for the sake of something?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd surely this object must also be dear, as is implied in our\nprevious admissions?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd that something dear involves something else dear?\n\nYes.\n\nBut then, proceeding in this way, shall we not arrive at some\nfirst principle of friendship or dearness which is not capable of\nbeing referred to any other, for the sake of which, as we maintain,\nall other things are dear, and, having there arrived, we shall stop?\n\nTrue.\n\nMy fear is that all those other things, which, as we say, are dear\nfor the sake of another, are illusions and deceptions only, but\nwhere that first principle is, there is the true ideal of\nfriendship. Let me put the matter thus: Suppose the case of a great\ntreasure (this may be a son, who is more precious to his father than\nall his other treasures); would not the father, who values his son\nabove all things, value other things also for the sake of his son? I\nmean, for instance, if he knew that his son had drunk hemlock, and the\nfather thought that wine would save him, he would value the wine?\n\nHe would.\n\nAnd also the vessel which contains the wine?\n\nCertainly.\n\nBut does he therefore value the three measures of wine, or the\nearthen vessel which contains them, equally with his son? Is not\nthis rather the true state of the case? All his anxiety has regard not\nto the means which are provided for the sake of an object, but to\nthe object for the sake of which they are provided. And although we\nmay often say that gold and silver are highly valued by us, that is\nnot the truth; for there is a further object, whatever it may be,\nwhich we value most of all, and for the sake of which gold and all out\nother possessions are acquired by us. Am I not right?\n\nYes, certainly.\n\nAnd may not the same be said of the friend? That which is only\ndear to us for the sake of something else is improperly said to be\ndear, but the truly dear is that in which all these so called dear\nfriendships terminate.\n\nThat, he said, appears to be true.\n\nAnd the truly dear or ultimate principle of friendship is not for\nthe sake of any other or further dear.\n\nTrue.\n\nThen we have done with the notion that friendship has any further\nobject. May we then infer that the good is the friend?\n\nI think so.\n\nAnd the good is loved for the sake of the evil? Let me put the\ncase in this way: Suppose that of the three principles, good, evil,\nand that which is neither good nor evil, there remained only the\ngood and the neutral, and that evil went far away, and in no way\naffected soul or body, nor ever at all that class of things which,\nas we say, are neither good nor evil in themselves;-would the good\nbe of any use, or other than useless to us? For if there were\nnothing to hurt us any longer, we should have no need of anything that\nwould do us good. Then would be clearly seen that we did but love\nand desire the good because of the evil, and as the remedy of the\nevil, which was the disease; but if there had been no disease, there\nwould have been no need of a remedy. Is not this the nature of the\ngood-to be loved by us who are placed between the two, because of\nthe evil? but there is no use in the good for its own sake.\n\nI suppose not.\n\nThen the final principle of friendship, in which all other\nfriendships terminated, those, I mean, which are relatively dear and\nfor the sake of something else, is of another and a different nature\nfrom them. For they are called dear because of another dear or friend.\nBut with the true friend or dear, the case is quite the reverse; for\nthat is proved to be dear because of the hated, and if the hated\nwere away it would be no longer dear.\n\nVery true, he replied: at any rate not if our present view holds\ngood.\n\nBut, oh! will you tell me, I said, whether if evil were to perish,\nwe should hunger any more, or thirst any more, or have any similar\ndesire? Or may we suppose that hunger will remain while men and\nanimals remain, but not so as to be hurtful? And the same of thirst\nand the other desires,-that they will remain, but will not be evil\nbecause evil has perished? Or rather shall I say, that to ask what\neither will be then or will not be is ridiculous, for who knows?\nThis we do know, that in our present condition hunger may injure us,\nand may also benefit us:-Is not that true?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd in like manner thirst or any similar desire may sometimes be a\ngood and sometimes an evil to us, and sometimes neither one nor the\nother?\n\nTo be sure.\n\nBut is there any reason why, because evil perishes, that which is\nnot evil should perish with it?\n\nNone.\n\nThen, even if evil perishes, the desires which are neither good\nnor evil will remain?\n\nClearly they will.\n\nAnd must not a man love that which he desires and affects?\n\nHe must.\n\nThen, even if evil perishes, there may still remain some elements of\nlove or friendship?\n\nYes.\n\nBut not if evil is the cause of friendship: for in that case nothing\nwill be the friend of any other thing after the destruction of evil;\nfor the effect cannot remain when the cause is destroyed.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd have we not admitted already that the friend loves something for\na reason? and at the time of making the admission we were of opinion\nthat the neither good nor evil loves the good because of the evil?\n\nVery true.\n\nBut now our view is changed, and we conceive that there must be some\nother cause of friendship?\n\nI suppose so.\n\nMay not the truth be rather, as we were saying just now, that desire\nis the cause of friendship; for that which desires is dear to that\nwhich is desired at the time of desiring it? and may not the other\ntheory have been only a long story about nothing?\n\nLikely enough.\n\nBut surely, I said, he who desires, desires that of which he is in\nwant?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd that of which he is in want is dear to him?\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd he is in want of that of which he is deprived?\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen love, and desire, and friendship would appear to be of the\nnatural or congenial. Such, Lysis and Menexenus, is the inference.\n\nThey assented.\n\nThen if you are friends, you must have natures which are congenial\nto one another?\n\nCertainly, they both said.\n\nAnd I say, my boys, that no one who loves or desires another would\never have loved or desired or affected him, if he had not been in some\nway congenial to him, either in his soul, or in his character, or in\nhis manners, or in his form.\n\nYes, yes, said Menexenus. But Lysis was silent.\n\nThen, I said, the conclusion is, that what is of a congenial\nnature must be loved.\n\nIt follows, he said.\n\nThen the lover, who is true and no counterfeit, must of necessity be\nloved by his love.\n\nLysis and Menexenus gave a faint assent to this; and Hippothales\nchanged into all manner of colours with delight.\n\nHere, intending to revise the argument, I said: Can we point out any\ndifference between the congenial and the like? For if that is\npossible, then I think, Lysis and Menexenus, there may be some sense\nin our argument about friendship. But if the congenial is only the\nlike, how will you get rid of the other argument, of the uselessness\nof like to like in as far as they are like; for to say that what is\nuseless is dear, would be absurd? Suppose, then, that we agree to\ndistinguish between the congenial and the like-in the intoxication\nof argument, that may perhaps be allowed.\n\nVery true.\n\nAnd shall we further say that the good is congenial, and the evil\nuncongenial to every one? Or again that the evil is congenial to the\nevil, and the good to the good; and that which is neither good nor\nevil to that which is neither good nor evil?\n\nThey agreed to the latter alternative.\n\nThen, my boys, we have again fallen into the old discarded error;\nfor the unjust will be the friend of the unjust, and the bad of the\nbad, as well as the good of the good.\n\nThat appears to be the result.\n\nBut again, if we say that the congenial is the same as the good,\nin that case the good and he only will be the friend of the good.\n\nTrue.\n\nBut that too was a position of ours which, as you will remember, has\nbeen already refuted by ourselves.\n\nWe remember.\n\nThen what is to be done? Or rather is there anything to be done? I\ncan only, like the wise men who argue in courts, sum up the\narguments:-If neither the beloved, nor the lover, nor the like, nor\nthe unlike, nor the good, nor the congenial, nor any other of whom\nwe spoke-for there were such a number of them that I cannot remember\nall-if none of these are friends, I know not what remains to be said.\n\nHere I was going to invite the opinion of some older person, when\nsuddenly we were interrupted by the tutors of Lysis and Menexenus, who\ncame upon us like an evil apparition with their brothers, and bade\nthem go home, as it was getting late. At first, we and the\nbystanders drove them off; but afterwards, as they would not mind, and\nonly went on shouting in their barbarous dialect, and got angry, and\nkept calling the boys-they appeared to us to have been drinking rather\ntoo much at the Hermaea, which made them difficult to manage we fairly\ngave way and broke up the company.\n\nI said, however, a few words to the boys at parting: O Menexenus and\nLysis, how ridiculous that you two boys, and I, an old boy, who\nwould fain be one of you, should imagine ourselves to be\nfriends-this is what the by-standers will go away and say-and as yet\nwe have not been able to discover what is a friend!\n\n-THE END-",
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