Greater Hippias (286-290)

Soc.

True, but I did not understand that you possess the science of memory; and so I understand that the Lacedaemonians naturally enjoy you as one who knows many things, and they make use of you

as children make use of old women, to tell stories agreeably.

Hipp.

And by Zeus, Socrates, I have just lately gained reputation there by telling about noble or beautiful pursuits, recounting what those of a young man should be. For I have a very beautiful discourse composed about them, well arranged in its words and also in other respects. And the plan of the discourse, and its beginning, is something like this: After the fall of Troy, the story goes that Neoptolemus asked Nestor

what the noble and beautiful pursuits were, by following which a young man would become most famous; so after that we have Nestor speaking and suggesting to him very many lawful and most beautiful pursuits. That discourse, then, I delivered there and intend to deliver here the day after tomorrow in Pheidostratus’s schoolroom, with many other things worth hearing; for Eudicus, the son of Apemantus, asked me to do so. Now be sure to be there yourself and to bring others who are able to judge of discourses that they hear.

Soc.

Well, that shall be done, God willing, Hippias. Now, however, give me a brief answer to a question about your discourse, for you reminded me of the beautiful just at the right moment. For recently, my most excellent friend, as I was finding fault with some things in certain speeches as ugly and praising other things as beautiful, a man threw me into confusion by questioning me very insolently somewhat after this fashion: How, if you please, do you know, Socrates, said he,

what sort of things are beautiful and ugly? For, come now, could you tell me what the beautiful is? And I, being of no account, was at a loss and could not answer him properly; and so, as I was going away from the company, I was angry with myself and reproached myself, and threatened that the first time I met one of you wise men, I would hear and learn and practise and then go back to the man who questioned me to renew the wordy strife. So now, as I say, you have come at the right moment; just teach me satisfactorily what the absolute beautiful is, and try in replying to speak as accurately as possible, that I may not be confuted a second time and be made ridiculous again. For you doubtless know clearly, and this would doubtless be but a small example of your wide learning.

Hipp.

Yes, surely, by Zeus, a small one, Socrates, and, I may say, of no value.

Soc.

Then I shall learn it easily, and nobody will confute me any more.

Hipp.

Nobody, surely; for in that case my profession would be

worthless and ordinary.

Soc.

That is good, by Hera, Hippias, if we are to worst the fellow. But may I without hindering you imitate him, and when you answer, take exception to what you say, in order that you may give me as much practice as possible? For I am more or less experienced in taking exceptions. So, if it is all the same to you, I wish to take exceptions, that I may learn more vigorously.

Hipp.

Oh yes, take exceptions. For, as I said just now,

the question is no great matter, but I could teach you to answer much harder ones than this, so that nobody in the world could confute you.

Soc.

Oh how good that is! But come, since you tell me to do so, now let me try to play that man’s part, so far as possible, and ask you questions. For if you were to deliver for him this discourse that you mention, the one about beautiful pursuits, when he had heard it, after you had stopped speaking, the very first thing he would ask about would be the beautiful;

for he has that sort of habit, and he would say, Stranger from Elis, is it not by justice that the just are just? So answer, Hippias, as though he were asking the question.

Hipp.

I shall answer that it is by justice.

Soc.

Then this—I mean justice—is something?

Hipp.

Certainly.

Soc.

Then, too, by wisdom the wise are wise and by the good all things are good, are they not?

Hipp.

Of course.

Soc.

And justice, wisdom, and so forth are something; for the just, wise, and so forth would not be such by them, if they were not something.

Hipp.

To be sure, they are something.

Soc.

Then are not all beautiful things beautiful by the beautiful?

Hipp.

Yes, by the beautiful.

Soc.

By the beautiful, which is something?

Hipp.

Yes, for what alternative is there?

Soc.

Tell me, then, stranger, he will say, what is this, the beautiful?

Hipp.

Well, Socrates, does he who asks this question want to find out anything else than what is beautiful?

Soc.

I do not think that is what he wants to find out,

but what the beautiful is.

Hipp.

And what difference is there between the two?

Soc.

Do you think there is none?

Hipp.

Yes, for there is no difference.

Soc.

Well, surely it is plain that you know best; but still, my good friend, consider; for he asked you, not what is beautiful, but what the beautiful is.

Hipp.

I understand, my good friend, and I will answer and tell him what the beautiful is, and I shall never be confuted. For be assured, Socrates, if I must speak the truth, a beautiful maiden is beautiful.

Soc.

Beautifully answered, Hippias, by the dog, and notably! Then if I give this answer, I shall have answered the question that was asked, and shall have answered it correctly,

and shall never be confuted?

Hipp.

Yes, for how could you, Socrates, be confuted, when you say what everybody thinks, and when all who hear it will bear witness that what you say is correct?

Soc.

Very well; certainly. Come, then, Hippias, let me rehearse to myself what you say. The man will question me in some such fashion as this: Come Socrates, answer me. All these things which you say are beautiful, if the absolute beautiful is anything, would be beautiful? And I shall say that if a beautiful maiden is beautiful, there is something by reason of which these things would be beautiful.

Hipp.

Do you think, then, that he will still attempt to refute you and to show that what you say is not beautiful, or, if he does attempt it, that he will not be ridiculous?

Soc.

That he will attempt it, my admirable friend, I am sure but whether the attempt will make him ridiculous, the event will show. However, I should like to tell you what he will ask.

Hipp.

Do so.

Soc.

How charming you are, Socrates! he will say. But is not a beautiful mare beautiful, which even the god praised in his oracle? [*]

What shall we say, Hippias? Shall we not say that the mare is beautiful, I mean the beautiful mare? For how could we dare to deny that the beautiful thing is beautiful?

Hipp.

Quite true, Socrates for what the god said is quite correct, too; for very beautiful mares are bred in our country.

Soc.

Very well, he will say, and how about a beautiful lyre? Is it not beautiful? Shall we agree, Hippias?

Hipp.

Yes.

Soc.

After this, then, the man will ask, I am sure, judging by his character: You most excellent man, how about a beautiful pot? Is it, then, not beautiful?

Hipp.

Socrates, who is the fellow? What an uncultivated person, who has the face to mention such worthless things in a dignified discussion!

Soc.

That’s the kind of person he is, Hippias, not elegant, but vulgar, thinking of nothing but the truth. But nevertheless the man must be answered, and I will declare my opinion beforehand: if the pot were made by a good potter, were smooth and round and well fired, as are some of the two-handled pots, those that hold six choes, [*] very beautiful ones—

if that were the kind of pot he asked about, we must agree that it is beautiful; for how could we say that being beautiful it is not beautiful?

Hipp.

We could not at all, Socrates.

Soc.

Then, he will say, a beautiful pot also is beautiful, is it not? Answer.

Hipp.

Well, Socrates, it is like this, I think. This utensil, when well wrought, is beautiful, but absolutely considered it does not deserve to be regarded as beautiful in comparison with a mare and a maiden and all the beautiful things.

Soc.

Very well I understand, Hippias, that the proper reply to him who asks these questions is this: Sir, you are not aware that the saying of Heracleitus is good, that Ôthe most beautiful of monkeys is ugly compared with the race of man,Õ and the most beautiful of pots is ugly compared with the race of maidens, as Hippias the wise man says. Is it not so, Hippias?

Hipp.

Certainly, Socrates; you replied rightly.

Soc.

Listen then. For I am sure that after this he will say: Yes, but, Socrates, if we compare maidens with gods,

will not the same thing happen to them that happened to pots when compared with maidens? Will not the most beautiful maiden appear ugly? Or does not Heracleitus, whom you cite, mean just this, that the wisest of men, if compared with a god, will appear a monkey, both in wisdom and in beauty and in everything else? Shall we agree, Hippias, that the most beautiful maiden is ugly if compared with the gods?

Hipp.

Yes, for who would deny that, Socrates?

Soc.

If, then, we agree to that, he will laugh and say: Socrates, do you remember the question you were asked? I do, I shall say, the question was what the absolute beautiful is. Then, he will say, when you were asked for the beautiful, do you give as your reply what is, as you yourself say, no more beautiful than ugly? So it seems, I shall say; or what do you, my friend, advise me to say?

Hipp.

That is what I advise; for, of course, in saying that the human race is not beautiful in comparison with gods, you will be speaking the truth.

Soc.

But if I had asked you, he will say, in the beginning what is beautiful and ugly,

if you had replied as you now do, would you not have replied correctly? But do you still think that the absolute beautiful, by the addition of which all other things are adorned and made to appear beautiful, when its form is added to any of them—do you think that is a maiden or a mare or a lyre?

Hipp.

Well, certainly, Socrates, if that is what he is looking for, nothing is easier than to answer and tell him what the beautiful is, by which all other things are adorned and by the addition of which they are made to appear beautiful.

So the fellow is very simple-minded and knows nothing about beautiful possessions. For if you reply to him: This that you ask about, the beautiful, is nothing else but gold, he will be thrown into confusion and will not attempt to confute you. For we all know, I fancy, that wherever this is added, even what before appears ugly will appear beautiful when adorned with gold.

Soc.

You don’t know the man, Hippias, what a wretch he is, and how certain not to accept anything easily.

Hipp.

What of that, then, Socrates? For he must perforce accept what is correct,

or if he does not accept it, be ridiculous.

Soc.

This reply, my most excellent friend, he not only will certainly not accept, but he will even jeer at me grossly and will say: You lunatic, do you think Pheidias is a bad craftsman? And I shall say, Not in the least.

Hipp.

And you will be right, Socrates.

Soc.

Yes, to be sure. Consequently when I agree that Pheidias is a good craftsman,

Well, then, he will say, do you imagine that Pheidias did not know this beautiful that you speak of? Why do you ask that? I shall say. Because, he will say, he did not make the eyes of his Athena of gold, nor the rest of her face, nor her hands and feet, if, that is, they were sure to appear most beautiful provided only they were made of gold, but he made them of ivory; evidently he made this mistake through ignorance, not knowing that it is gold which makes everything beautiful to which it is added. When he says that, what reply shall we make to him, Hippias?

Hipp.

That is easy; for we shall say that Pheidias did right; for ivory, I think, is beautiful.

Soc.

Why, then, he will say, did he not make the middle parts of the eyes also of ivory, but of stone, procuring stone as similar as possible to the ivory? Or is beautiful stone also beautiful? Shall we say that it is, Hippias?

Hipp.

Surely we shall say so, that is, where it is appropriate.

Soc.

But ugly when not appropriate? Shall I agree, or not?

Hipp.

Agree, that is, when it is not appropriate.

Soc.

What then? Do not gold and ivory, he will say, when they are appropriate, make things beautiful, and when they are not appropriate, ugly? Shall we deny that, or agree that what he says is correct?

Hipp.

We shall agree to this, at any rate, that whatever is appropriate to any particular thing makes that thing beautiful.

Soc.

Well, then, he will say, when some one has boiled the pot of which we were speaking just now, the beautiful one, full of beautiful soup, is a golden ladle appropriate to it, or one made of fig wood?

Hipp.

Heracles! What a fellow this is that you speak of!

Won’t you tell me who he is?

Soc.

You would not know him if I should tell you his name.

Hipp.

But even now I know that he is an ignoramus.