Protagoras (343-346)

Soc.

Hence this very truth has been observed by certain persons both in our day and in former times—that the Spartan cult is much more the pursuit of wisdom than of athletics; for they know that a man’s ability

to utter such remarks is to be ascribed to his perfect education. Such men were Thales of Miletus, Pittacus of Mytilene, Bias of Priene, Solon of our city, Cleobulus of Lindus, Myson of Chen, and, last of the traditional seven, Chilon of Sparta. All these were enthusiasts, lovers and disciples of the Spartan culture; and you can recognize that character in their wisdom by the short, memorable sayings that fell from each of them they assembled together and dedicated these as the first-fruits of their lore to Apollo in his Delphic temple, inscribing there those maxims which are on every tongue—Know thyself and Nothing overmuch. To what intent do I say this? To show how the ancient philosophy had this style of laconic brevity; and so it was that the saying of Pittacus was privately handed about with high approbation among the sages—that it is hard to be good. Then Simonides, ambitious to get a name for wisdom, perceived that if he could overthrow this saying, as one might some famous athlete, and become its conqueror, he would win fame himself amongst men of that day. Accordingly it was against this saying, and with this aim, that he composed the whole poem as a means of covertly assailing and abasing this maxim, as it seems to me.[*] Now let us all combine in considering whether my account is really true. The opening of the ode must at once appear crazy if, while intending to say that it is hard for a man to become good, he inserted indeed. There is no sort of sense, I imagine, in this insertion, unless we suppose that Simonides is addressing himself to the saying of Pittacus as a disputant: Pittacus says—It is hard to be good; and the poet controverts this by observing—No, but to become good, indeed, is hard for a man, Pittacus, truly—not truly good; he does not mention truth in this connexion, or imply that some things are truly good, while others are good but not truly so: this would seem silly and unlike Simonides.

Soc.

We must rather take the truly as a poetical transposition, and first quote the saying of Pittacus in some such way as this: let us suppose Pittacus himself to be speaking and Simonides replying, as thus—Good people, he says, it is hard to be good; and the poet answers—Pittacus,

what you say is not true, for it is not being but becoming good, indeed—in hands and feet and mind foursquare, fashioned without reproach—that is truly hard. In this way we see a purpose in the insertion of indeed, and that the truly is correctly placed at the end; and all that comes after corroborates this view of his meaning. There are many points in the various expressions of the poem which might be instanced to show its fine composition, for it is a work of very elegant and elaborate art; but it would take too long to detail all its beauties. However, let us go over its general outline and intention, which is assuredly to refute Pittacus’ saying, throughout the ode. Proceeding a little way on from our passage, just as though he were making a speech, he says to become, indeed, a good man is truly hard (not but what it is possible for a certain space of time); but to continue in this state of what one has become, and to be a good man is, as you say, Pittacus, impossible, superhuman: God alone can have this privilege—

For that man cannot help but be bad

Whom irresistible mischance has overthrown.

Simonides 37.1.14-16 Now who is it that an irresistible mischance overthrows in the command of a ship? Clearly not the ordinary man, for he may be overcome at any time; just as you cannot knock over one who is lying down, but one who is standing; you might knock over a standing man so as to make him lie down, not one who is lying down already. So it is a man apt to resist that an irresistible mischance would overthrow, and not one who could never resist anything. A great storm breaking over a steersman will render him helpless, and a severe season will leave a farmer helpless, and a doctor will be in the same case. For the good has the capacity of becoming bad, as we have witness in another poet[*] who said—

Nay more, the virtuous man is at one time bad, at another good.

unknownwhereas the bad man has no capacity for becoming, but must ever be, what he is; so that when an irresistible mischance overthrows him who is resourceful, wise, and good, he cannot but be bad; and you say, Pittacus, that it is hard to be good—that is, to become good, indeed, is hard, though possible, but to be good is impossible: for—[*]

If he hath fared well, every man is good;

Bad, if ill.

Simonides Fr. 37.1.17

Soc.

Now what is good faring in letters—the thing

that makes a man good at them? Clearly, the study of letters. What welfare makes a good doctor? Clearly, the study of the cure of the ailing.

Bad, if ill

: who could become a bad doctor? Clearly, he who in the first place is a doctor, and in the second, a good doctor; for he could become a bad one also: whereas we, who are laymen in respect of medicine, could never by faring ill become either doctors or joiners or anything else of that sort; and if one cannot become a doctor by faring ill, clearly one cannot become a bad one either. In the same way the good man may one day become bad through the effect either of time or work or illness or some other accident; for there is only one sort of ill fare—the deprivation of knowledge. But the bad man can never become bad: he is that always. If he is to become bad, he must previously become good. Hence the upshot of this part of the poem is that it is impossible to be a good man, continuing to be good, but possible to become good, and bad also, in the case of the same person. And then—

Best also for the longest space are they whom the gods love.

Simonides Fr. 37.1.19 All this has been said with reference to Pittacus, as is made still plainer by the ensuing verses, in which he says—

Therefore never shall I, in quest of what cannot come to pass, vainly cast my life’s lot upon a hope impracticable—of finding a man wholly blameless amongst us who partake of the fruit of the broad-based earth. If I light upon him, be sure I will report it—

Simonides Fr. 37.1.22ff. says he; and in this vehement tone he pursues the saying of Pittacus all through the poem:

But I praise and love everyone willingly committing no baseness; for against necessity not even the gods make war.

Simonides Fr. 37.1.27ff. This also is spoken with the same intent. For Simonides was not so ill-educated as to say that he praised a person who willingly did no evil, as though there were some who did evil willingly. I am fairly sure of this—that none of the wise men considers that anybody ever willingly errs or willingly does base and evil deeds; they are well aware that all who do base and evil things do them unwillingly; and so Simonides does not say he gives his praise to the person who willingly does no evil, but uses the word willingly of himself.

Soc.

For he considered that a man of sense and honor often constrains himself

to become a friend and approver of some person, as when a man chances to have an uncongenial mother or father or country or other such connexion. Now when this sort of thing befalls the wicked, they seem glad to see their parents’ or country’s faults, and complainingly point them out and inveigh against them, in order that their own neglect of them may not be denounced by their neighbors, who might otherwise reproach them for being so neglectful; and hence they multiply their complaints and add voluntary to unavoidable feuds. But good men, he knew, conceal the trouble and constrain themselves to praise, and if they have any reason to be angered against their parents or country for some wrong done to them they pacify and conciliate their feelings, compelling themselves to love and praise their own people. And many a time, I think, Simonides was conscious that he had praised and eulogized some tyrant or other such person, not willingly, but under compulsion. So he proceeds to tell Pittacus—I, Pittacus, do not reproach you merely because I am apt to reproach, since—

For my part I am content with whosoever is not evil or too intractable. He who knows Right, the support of a city, is a healthy man; him I shall never blame, for to blame I am not apt. Infinite is the race of fools.

Simonides Fr. 37.1.33ff. So that whoever delights in reproaching would have his fill of blaming them:

Verily, all things are fair that have in them no admixture of base.

By this he does not mean to say, as it were, that all things are white that have no admixture of black; that would be ridiculous in many ways; but that he himself accepts the average sort without reproaching them.

I do not seek,

said he,

a man wholly blameless amongst us who partake of the fruit of the broad-based earth: if I light upon him, be sure I will report it

—meaning, If I wait for that, I shall never find anyone to praise. No, I am content if a man be average and do nothing evil, since I love and praise all—and there he has used a Mytilenaean word,[*] for his I praise and love all willingly is addressed to Pittacus (here at willingly one should make a pause);—all who commit nothing base, but some there are whom I praise and love unwillingly.