them, that their genuineness is neither proven nor disproven until further
evidence about them can be adduced. And we are as confident that the
Epistles are spurious, as that the Republic, the Timaeus, and the Laws are
genuine.
On the whole, not a twentieth part of the writings which pass under the
name of Plato, if we exclude the works rejected by the ancients themselves
and two or three other plausible inventions, can be fairly doubted by those
who are willing to allow that a considerable change and growth may have
taken place in his philosophy (see above). That twentieth debatable
portion scarcely in any degree affects our judgment of Plato, either as a
thinker or a writer, and though suggesting some interesting questions to
the scholar and critic, is of little importance to the general reader.
ALCIBIADES I
by
Plato (see Appendix I above)
Translated by Benjamin Jowett
INTRODUCTION.
The First Alcibiades is a conversation between Socrates and Alcibiades.
Socrates is represented in the character which he attributes to himself in
the Apology of a know-nothing who detects the conceit of knowledge in
others. The two have met already in the Protagoras and in the Symposium;
in the latter dialogue, as in this, the relation between them is that of a
lover and his beloved. But the narrative of their loves is told
differently in different places; for in the Symposium Alcibiades is
depicted as the impassioned but rejected lover; here, as coldly receiving
the advances of Socrates, who, for the best of purposes, lies in wait for
the aspiring and ambitious youth.
Alcibiades, who is described as a very young man, is about to enter on
public life, having an inordinate opinion of himself, and an extravagant
ambition. Socrates, 'who knows what is in man,' astonishes him by a
revelation of his designs. But has he the knowledge which is necessary for
carrying them out? He is going to persuade the Athenians--about what? Not
about any particular art, but about politics--when to fight and when to
make peace. Now, men should fight and make peace on just grounds, and
therefore the question of justice and injustice must enter into peace and
war; and he who advises the Athenians must know the difference between
them. Does Alcibiades know? If he does, he must either have been taught
by some master, or he must have discovered the nature of them himself. If
he has had a master, Socrates would like to be informed who he is, that he
may go and learn of him also. Alcibiades admits that he has never learned.
Then has he enquired for himself? He may have, if he was ever aware of a
time when he was ignorant. But he never was ignorant; for when he played
with other boys at dice, he charged them with cheating, and this implied a
knowledge of just and unjust. According to his own explanation, he had
learned of the multitude. Why, he asks, should he not learn of them the
nature of justice, as he has learned the Greek language of them? To this
Socrates answers, that they can teach Greek, but they cannot teach justice;
for they are agreed about the one, but they are not agreed about the other:
and therefore Alcibiades, who has admitted that if he knows he must either
have learned from a master or have discovered for himself the nature of
justice, is convicted out of his own mouth.
Alcibiades rejoins, that the Athenians debate not about what is just, but
about what is expedient; and he asserts that the two principles of justice
and expediency are opposed. Socrates, by a series of questions, compels
him to admit that the just and the expedient coincide. Alcibiades is thus
reduced to the humiliating conclusion that he knows nothing of politics,
even if, as he says, they are concerned with the expedient.
However, he is no worse than other Athenian statesmen; and he will not need
training, for others are as ignorant as he is. He is reminded that he has
to contend, not only with his own countrymen, but with their enemies--with
the Spartan kings and with the great king of Persia; and he can only attain
this higher aim of ambition by the assistance of Socrates. Not that
Socrates himself professes to have attained the truth, but the questions
which he asks bring others to a knowledge of themselves, and this is the
first step in the practice of virtue.
The dialogue continues:--We wish to become as good as possible. But to be
good in what? Alcibiades replies--'Good in transacting business.' But
what business? 'The business of the most intelligent men at Athens.' The
cobbler is intelligent in shoemaking, and is therefore good in that; he is
not intelligent, and therefore not good, in weaving. Is he good in the
sense which Alcibiades means, who is also bad? 'I mean,' replies
Alcibiades, 'the man who is able to command in the city.' But to command
what--horses or men? and if men, under what circumstances? 'I mean to say,
that he is able to command men living in social and political relations.'
And what is their aim? 'The better preservation of the city.' But when is
a city better? 'When there is unanimity, such as exists between husband
and wife.' Then, when husbands and wives perform their own special duties,
there can be no unanimity between them; nor can a city be well ordered when
each citizen does his own work only. Alcibiades, having stated first that
goodness consists in the unanimity of the citizens, and then in each of
them doing his own separate work, is brought to the required point of self-
contradiction, leading him to confess his own ignorance.
But he is not too old to learn, and may still arrive at the truth, if he is
willing to be cross-examined by Socrates. He must know himself; that is to
say, not his body, or the things of the body, but his mind, or truer self.
The physician knows the body, and the tradesman knows his own business, but
they do not necessarily know themselves. Self-knowledge can be obtained
only by looking into the mind and virtue of the soul, which is the diviner
part of a man, as we see our own image in another's eye. And if we do not
know ourselves, we cannot know what belongs to ourselves or belongs to
others, and are unfit to take a part in political affairs. Both for the
sake of the individual and of the state, we ought to aim at justice and
temperance, not at wealth or power. The evil and unjust should have no
power,--they should be the slaves of better men than themselves. None but
the virtuous are deserving of freedom.
And are you, Alcibiades, a freeman? 'I feel that I am not; but I hope,
Socrates, that by your aid I may become free, and from this day forward I
will never leave you.'
The Alcibiades has several points of resemblance to the undoubted dialogues
of Plato. The process of interrogation is of the same kind with that which
Socrates practises upon the youthful Cleinias in the Euthydemus; and he
characteristically attributes to Alcibiades the answers which he has
elicited from him. The definition of good is narrowed by successive
questions, and virtue is shown to be identical with knowledge. Here, as
elsewhere, Socrates awakens the consciousness not of sin but of ignorance.
Self-humiliation is the first step to knowledge, even of the commonest
things. No man knows how ignorant he is, and no man can arrive at virtue
and wisdom who has not once in his life, at least, been convicted of error.
The process by which the soul is elevated is not unlike that which
religious writers describe under the name of 'conversion,' if we substitute
the sense of ignorance for the consciousness of sin.
In some respects the dialogue differs from any other Platonic composition.
The aim is more directly ethical and hortatory; the process by which the
antagonist is undermined is simpler than in other Platonic writings, and
the conclusion more decided. There is a good deal of humour in the manner
in which the pride of Alcibiades, and of the Greeks generally, is supposed
to be taken down by the Spartan and Persian queens; and the dialogue has
considerable dialectical merit. But we have a difficulty in supposing that
the same writer, who has given so profound and complex a notion of the
characters both of Alcibiades and Socrates in the Symposium, should have
treated them in so thin and superficial a manner in the Alcibiades, or that
he would have ascribed to the ironical Socrates the rather unmeaning boast
that Alcibiades could not attain the objects of his ambition without his
help; or that he should have imagined that a mighty nature like his could
have been reformed by a few not very conclusive words of Socrates. For the
arguments by which Alcibiades is reformed are not convincing; the writer of
the dialogue, whoever he was, arrives at his idealism by crooked and
tortuous paths, in which many pitfalls are concealed. The anachronism of
making Alcibiades about twenty years old during the life of his uncle,
Pericles, may be noted; and the repetition of the favourite observation,
which occurs also in the Laches and Protagoras, that great Athenian
statesmen, like Pericles, failed in the education of their sons. There is
none of the undoubted dialogues of Plato in which there is so little
dramatic verisimilitude.
ALCIBIADES I
by
Plato (see Appendix I above)
Translated by Benjamin Jowett
PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: Alcibiades, Socrates.
SOCRATES: I dare say that you may be surprised to find, O son of Cleinias,
that I, who am your first lover, not having spoken to you for many years,
when the rest of the world were wearying you with their attentions, am the
last of your lovers who still speaks to you. The cause of my silence has
been that I was hindered by a power more than human, of which I will some
day explain to you the nature; this impediment has now been removed; I
therefore here present myself before you, and I greatly hope that no
similar hindrance will again occur. Meanwhile, I have observed that your
pride has been too much for the pride of your admirers; they were numerous
and high-spirited, but they have all run away, overpowered by your superior
force of character; not one of them remains. And I want you to understand
the reason why you have been too much for them. You think that you have no
need of them or of any other man, for you have great possessions and lack
nothing, beginning with the body, and ending with the soul. In the first
place, you say to yourself that you are the fairest and tallest of the
citizens, and this every one who has eyes may see to be true; in the second
place, that you are among the noblest of them, highly connected both on the
father's and the mother's side, and sprung from one of the most
distinguished families in your own state, which is the greatest in Hellas,
and having many friends and kinsmen of the best sort, who can assist you
when in need; and there is one potent relative, who is more to you than all
the rest, Pericles the son of Xanthippus, whom your father left guardian of
you, and of your brother, and who can do as he pleases not only in this
city, but in all Hellas, and among many and mighty barbarous nations.
Moreover, you are rich; but I must say that you value yourself least of all
upon your possessions. And all these things have lifted you up; you have
overcome your lovers, and they have acknowledged that you were too much for
them. Have you not remarked their absence? And now I know that you wonder
why I, unlike the rest of them, have not gone away, and what can be my
motive in remaining.
ALCIBIADES: Perhaps, Socrates, you are not aware that I was just going to
ask you the very same question--What do you want? And what is your motive
in annoying me, and always, wherever I am, making a point of coming?
(Compare Symp.) I do really wonder what you mean, and should greatly like
to know.
SOCRATES: Then if, as you say, you desire to know, I suppose that you will
be willing to hear, and I may consider myself to be speaking to an auditor
who will remain, and will not run away?
ALCIBIADES: Certainly, let me hear.
SOCRATES: You had better be careful, for I may very likely be as unwilling
to end as I have hitherto been to begin.
ALCIBIADES: Proceed, my good man, and I will listen.
SOCRATES: I will proceed; and, although no lover likes to speak with one
who has no feeling of love in him (compare Symp.), I will make an effort,
and tell you what I meant: My love, Alcibiades, which I hardly like to
confess, would long ago have passed away, as I flatter myself, if I saw you
loving your good things, or thinking that you ought to pass life in the
enjoyment of them. But I shall reveal other thoughts of yours, which you
keep to yourself; whereby you will know that I have always had my eye on
you. Suppose that at this moment some God came to you and said:
Alcibiades, will you live as you are, or die in an instant if you are
forbidden to make any further acquisition?--I verily believe that you would
choose death. And I will tell you the hope in which you are at present
living: Before many days have elapsed, you think that you will come before
the Athenian assembly, and will prove to them that you are more worthy of
honour than Pericles, or any other man that ever lived, and having proved
this, you will have the greatest power in the state. When you have gained
the greatest power among us, you will go on to other Hellenic states, and
not only to Hellenes, but to all the barbarians who inhabit the same
continent with us. And if the God were then to say to you again: Here in
Europe is to be your seat of empire, and you must not cross over into Asia
or meddle with Asiatic affairs, I do not believe that you would choose to
live upon these terms; but the world, as I may say, must be filled with
your power and name--no man less than Cyrus and Xerxes is of any account
with you. Such I know to be your hopes--I am not guessing only--and very
likely you, who know that I am speaking the truth, will reply, Well,
Socrates, but what have my hopes to do with the explanation which you
