Hippias, beautiful and wise, what a long time it is since you have put in at the port of Athens!

I am too busy, Socrates. For whenever Elis needs to have any business transacted with any of the states, she always comes to me first of her citizens and chooses me as envoy, thinking that I am the ablest judge and messenger of the words that are spoken by the several states. So I have often gone as envoy to other states, but most often and concerning the most numerous and important matters to Lacedaemon. For that reason, then, since you ask me, I do not often come to this neighborhood.

That’s what it is, Hippias, to be a truly wise and perfect man! For you are both in your private capacity able to earn much money from the young and to confer upon them still greater benefits than you receive, and in public affairs you are able to benefit your own state, as a man must who is to be not despised but held in high repute among the many. And yet, Hippias, what in the world is the reason why those men of old whose names are called great in respect to wisdom—Pittacus, and Bias, and the Milesian Thales Pittacus of Mitylene, Bias of Priene, and Thales of Miletus were among the traditional seven wise men. with his followers and also the later ones, down to Anaxagoras, are all, or most of them, found to refrain from affairs of state?

What else do you suppose, Socrates, than that they were not able to compass by their wisdom both public and private matters?

Then for Heaven’s sake, just as the other arts have progressed, and the ancients are of no account in comparison with the artisans of today, shall we say that your art also has progressed and those of the ancients who were concerned with wisdom are of no account in comparison with you?

Yes, you are quite right.

Then, Hippias, if Bias were to come to life again now, he would be a laughing-stock in comparison with you, just as the sculptors say that Daedalus, Daedalus, the traditional inventor of sculpture. if he were to be born now and were to create such works as those from which he got his reputation, would be ridiculous.

That, Socrates, is exactly as you say. I, however, am in the habit of praising the ancients and our predecessors rather than the men of the present day, and more greatly, as a precaution against the envy of the living and through fear of the wrath of those who are dead.

Yours, Hippias, is a most excellent way, at any rate, of speaking about them and of thinking, it seems to me and I can bear you witness that you speak the truth, and that your art really has progressed in the direction of ability to carry on public together with private affairs. For this man The word οὖτος does not indicate that Gorgias was among those present at the moment, but only that he was at the time much talked of at Athens. The imaginary, or dramatic, date of this dialogue, would, then, be shortly after the time of Gorgias’ activity at Athens. Gorgias, the sophist from Leontini, came here from home in the public capacity of envoy, as being best able of all the citizens of Leontini to attend to the interests of the community, and it was the general opinion that he spoke excellently in the public assembly, and in his private capacity, by giving exhibitions and associating with the young, he earned and received a great deal of money from this city; or, if you like, our friend here, Prodicus, often went to other places in a public capacity, and the last time, just lately, when he came here in a public capacity from Ceos, he gained great reputation by his speaking before the Council, and in his private capacity, by giving exhibitions and associating with the young, he received a marvellous sum of money; but none of those ancients ever thought fit to exact the money as payment for his wisdom or to give exhibitions among people of various places; so simple-minded were they, and so unconscious of the fact that money is of the greatest value. But either of these two has earned more money from his wisdom than any artisan from his art. And even before these Protagoras did so.

Why, Socrates, you know nothing of the beauties of this. For if you were to know how much money I have made, you would be amazed. I won’t mention the rest, but once, when I went to Sicily, although Protagoras was staying there and had a great reputation and was the older, I, who was much younger, made in a very short time more than one hundred and fifty minas, and in one very small place, Inycus, more than twenty minas; and when I came home, I took this and gave it to my father, so that he and the other citizens were overwhelmed with amazement. And I pretty well think I have made more money than any other two sophists together.

That’s a fine thing you say, Hippias, and strong testimony to your wisdom and that of the men of today and to their great superiority to the ancients. For the earlier sophists of the school of Anaxagoras must have been very ignorant to judge from what is said, according to your view; for they say that what happened to Anaxagoras was the opposite of what happens to you; for though much money was left him, he neglected it and lost it all so senseless was his wisdom. And they tell similar tales about others among the ancients. So this seems to me fine testimony that you adduce for the wisdom of the men of today as compared with the earlier men, and many people agree with me that the wise man must be wise for himself especially Apparently a proverbial expression like physician, heal thyself or look out for number one.; and the test of this is, who makes the most money. Well, so much for that. But tell me this: at which of the cities that you go to did you make the most money? Or are we to take it that it was at Lacedaemon, where your visits have been most frequent?

No, by Zeus, it was not, Socrates.

What’s that you say? But did you make least there?

Why, I never made anything at all.

That is a prodigious marvel that you tell, Hippias; and say now: is not your wisdom such as to make those who are in contact with it and learn it, better men in respect to virtue?

Yes, much better, Socrates.

But you were able to make the sons of the Inycenes better, and had no power to improve the sons of the Spartans?

That is far from true.

Well, then, the Siceliotes desire to become better, and the Lacedaemonians do not?

No certainly, Socrates, the Lacedaemonians also desire it.

Then it was for lack of money that they avoided intercourse with you?

Not at all, since they have plenty of money.

What, then, could be the reason, that when they desired it and had money, and you had power to confer upon them the greatest benefits, they did not send you away loaded with money? But I see; perhaps the Lacedaemonians might educate their own children better than you? Shall we state it so, and do you agree?

Not in the least.

Then were you not able to persuade the young men at Lacedaemon that they would make more progress towards virtue by associating with you than with their own people, or were you powerless to persuade their fathers that they ought rather to hand them over to you than to care for them themselves, if they are at all concerned for their sons? For surely they did not begrudge it to their children to become as good as possible.

I do not think they begrudged it.

But certainly Lacedaemon is well governed.

Of course it is.

And in well-governed states virtue is most highly honored.

Certainly.

And you know best of all men how to transmit that to another.

Much best, Socrates.

Well, he who knows best how to transmit horsemanship would be most honored in Thessaly of all parts of Greece and would receive most money—and anywhere else where horsemanship is a serious interest, would he not?

Very likely.

Then will not he who is able to transmit the doctrines that are of most value for the acquisition of virtue be most highly honored in Lacedaemon and make most money, if he so wishes, and in any other of the Greek states that is well governed? But do you, my friend, think he will fare better in Sicily and at Inycus? Are we to believe that, Hippias? For if you tell us to do so, we must believe it.

Yes, for it is not the inherited usage of the Lacedaemonians to change their laws or to educate their children differently from what is customary.

What? For the Lacedaemonians is it the hereditary usage not to act rightly, but to commit errors?

I wouldn’t say so, Socrates.

Would they, then, not act rightly in educating the young men better, but not in educating them worse?

Yes, they would; but it is not lawful for them to give them a foreign education; for you may be sure that if anybody had ever received money there in payment for education, I should have received by far the most; they certainly enjoy hearing me and they applaud me; but, as I say, it is not the law.

But, Hippias, do you say that law is an injury to the state, or a benefit?

It is made, I think, with benefit in view, but sometimes, if the law is badly made, it is injurious.

Well, then, is it not true that those who make the law make it as the greatest good to the state, and that without this it is impossible to enjoy good government?

What you say is true.

Then, when those who make the laws miss the good, they have missed the lawful and the law; or what do you say?

Speaking accurately, Socrates, that is true; however, men are not accustomed to think so.

The men who know, Hippias, or those who do not know?

The many.

Are these, the many, those who know the truth?

Certainly not.

But surely those who know, think that in truth for all men that which is more beneficial is more lawful than that which is less beneficial; or do you not agree?

Yes, I agree that they think it is so in truth.

Well, it actually is as those who know think it is, is it not?

Certainly.

But or the Lacedaemonians, as you say, it is more beneficial to be educated in your education, which is foreign, than in the local education.

Yes, and what I say is true.

And do you say this also, Hippias, that beneficial things are more lawful?

Yes, I said so.

Then, according to what you say, it is more lawful for the sons of the Lacedaemonians to be educated by Hippias and less lawful for them to be educated by their fathers, if in reality they will be more benefited by you.

But certainly they will be benefited, Socrates.

Then the Lacedaemonians in not giving you money and entrusting their sons to you , act contrary to law.

I agree to that; for you seem to be making your argument in my favour, and there is no need of my opposing it.

Then my friends, we find that the Lacedaemonians are law-breakers, and that too in the most important affairs—they who are regarded as the most law-abiding of men. But then, for Heaven’s sake, Hippias, what sort of discourses are those for which they applaud you and which they enjoy hearing? Or are they evidently those which you understand most admirably, those about the stars and the phenomena of the heavens?

Not in the least; they won’t even endure those.

But they enjoy hearing about geometry?

Not at all, since one might say that many of them do not even know how to count.

Then they are far from enduring a lecture by you on the processes of thought.

Far from it indeed, by Zeus.

Well, then, those matters which you of all men know best how to discuss, concerning the value of letters and syllables and rhythms and harmonies?

Harmonies indeed, my good fellow, and letters!

But then what are the things about which they like to listen to you and which they applaud? Tell me yourself, for I cannot discover them.

They are very fond of hearing about the genealogies of heroes and men, Socrates, and the foundations of cities in ancient times and, in short, about antiquity in general, so that for their sake I have been obliged to learn all that sort of thing by heart and practise it thoroughly.

By Zeus, Hippias, it is lucky for you that the Lacedaemonians do not enjoy hearing one recite the list of our archons from Solon’s time; if they did, you would have trouble in learning it by heart.

How so, Socrates? After hearing them once, I can remember fifty names.