Socrates. Then this is the goal of all his effort; he tries to produce conviction in the soul. Is not that so? Phaedrus. Yes. Socrates. So it is clear that Thrasymachus, or anyone else who seriously teaches the art of rhetoric, will first describe the soul with perfect accuracy and make us see whether it is one and all alike, or, like the body, of multiform aspect; for this is what we call explaining its nature. Phaedrus. Certainly. Socrates. And secondly he will say what its action is and toward what it is directed, or how it is acted upon and by what. Phaedrus. To be sure. Socrates. Thirdly, he will classify the speeches and the souls and will adapt each to the other, showing the causes of the effects produced and why one kind of soul is necessarily persuaded by certain classes of speeches, and another is not. Phaedrus. That would, I think, be excellent. Socrates. By no other method of exposition or speech will this, or anything else, ever be written
 or spoken with real art. But those whom you have heard, who write treatises on the art of speech nowadays, are deceivers and conceal the nature of the soul, though they know it very well. Until they write and speak by this method we cannot believe that they write by the rules of art. Phaedrus. What is this method? Socrates. It is not easy to tell the exact expressions to be used; but I will tell how one must write, if one is to do it, so far as possible, in a truly artistic way. Phaedrus. Speak then. Socrates. Since it is the function of speech
 to lead souls by persuasion, he who is to be a rhetorician must know the various forms of soul. Now they are so and so many and of such and such kinds, wherefore men also are of different kinds: these we must classify. Then there are also various classes of speeches, to one of which every speech belongs. So men of a certain sort are easily persuaded by speeches of a certain sort for a certain reason to actions or beliefs of a certain sort, and men of another sort cannot be so persuaded. The student of rhetoric must, accordingly, acquire a proper knowledge of these classes and then be able to follow them
 accurately with his senses when he sees them in the practical affairs of life; otherwise he can never have any profit from the lectures he may have heard. Socrates. 	But when he has learned to tell what sort of man is influenced by what sort of speech, and is able,
 if he comes upon such a man, to recognize him and to convince himself that this is the man and this now actually before him is the nature spoken of in a certain lecture, to which he must now make a practical application of a certain kind of speech in a certain way to persuade his hearer to a certain action or belief—when he has acquired all this, and has added thereto a knowledge of the times for speaking and for keeping silence, and has also distinguished the favorable occasions for brief speech or pitiful speech or intensity and all the classes of speech which he has learned, then, and not till then, will his art be fully and completely
	 finished; and if anyone who omits any of these points in his speaking or writing claims to speak by the rules of art, the one who disbelieves him is the better man. Now then, perhaps the writer of our treatise will say, Phaedrus and Socrates, do you agree to all this? Or must the art of speech be described in some other way? Phaedrus. No other way is possible, Socrates. But it seems a great task to attain to it. Socrates. Very true. Therefore you must examine
 all that has been said from every point of view, to see if no shorter and easier road to the art appears, that one may not take a long and rough road, when there is a short and smooth one. If you have heard from Lysias or anyone else anything that can help us, try to remember it and tell it. Phaedrus. If it depended on trying, I might, but just now I have nothing to say. Socrates. Then shall I tell something that I have heard some of those say who make these matters their business? Phaedrus. Pray do. Socrates. Even the wolf, you know, Phaedrus, has a right to an advocate, as they say. Phaedrus. Do you be his advocate. Socrates. Very well. They say that there is no need of treating these matters with such gravity and carrying them back so far to first principles with many words; for, as we said in the beginning of this discussion, he who is to be a competent rhetorician need have nothing at all to do, they say, with truth in considering things which are just or good, or men who are so, whether by nature or by education. For in the courts, they say,
 nobody cares for truth about these matters, but for that which is convincing; and that is probability, so that he who is to be an artist in speech must fix his attention upon probability. For sometimes one must not even tell what was actually done, if it was not likely to be done, but what was probable, whether in accusation or defence; and in brief, a speaker must always aim at probability,
	 paying no attention to truth; for this method, if pursued throughout the whole speech, provides us with the entire art. Phaedrus. You have stated just what those say who pretend to possess the art of speech, Socrates. I remember that we touched upon this matter briefly before, See Plat. Phaedrus 259e . but the professional rhetoricians think it is of great importance. Socrates. Well, there is Tisias whom you have studied carefully; now let Tisias himself
 tell us if he does not say that probability is that which most people think. Phaedrus. That is just what he says. Socrates. Apparently after he had invented this clever scientific definition, he wrote that if a feeble and brave man assaulted a strong coward, robbed him of his cloak or something, and was brought to trial for it, neither party ought to speak the truth; the coward should say that he had not been assaulted by the brave man alone, whereas the other should prove that only they two were present
 and should use the well-known argument, How could a little man like me assault such a man as he is? The coward will not acknowledge his cowardice, but will perhaps try to invent some other lie, and thus give his opponent a chance to confute him. And in other cases there are other similar rules of art. Is that not so, Phaedrus? Phaedrus. Certainly. Socrates. Oh, a wonderfully hidden art it seems to be which Tisias has brought to light, or some other, whoever he may be and whatever country he is proud to call his own! 
 But, my friend, shall we say in reply to this, or shall we not— Phaedrus. What? Socrates. Tisias, some time ago, before you came along, we were saying that this probability of yours was accepted by the people because of its likeness to truth; and we just stated that he who knows the truth is always best able to discover likenesses. And so, if you have anything else to say about the art of speech, we will listen to you; but if not, we will put our trust in what we said just now, that unless a man take account of the characters of his hearers
 and is able to divide things by classes and to comprehend particulars under a general idea, he will never attain the highest human perfection in the art of speech. But this ability he will not gain without much diligent toil, which a wise man ought not to undergo for the sake of speaking and acting before men, but that he may be able to speak and to do everything, so far as possible,
	 in a manner pleasing to the gods.