“But is health a friend, or not a friend?”
“A friend.”
“And is disease an enemy?”
“Certainly.”
“That then which is neither evil nor good, on account of what is evil and an enemy, is a friend to the good, for the sake of what is good and a friend.”
“It appears so.”
“The friendly therefore is a friend for the sake of the friend, on account of that which is an enemy.”
“So it seems.”
“Well then,” said I, “since we have reached this point, my boys, let us pay every attention that we be not deceived. For that a friend becomes a friend to a friend, and that like becomes a friend to like, which we said is impossible, I give up. However let us consider this, that what is now asserted may not deceive us. The medicinal art, we say, is a friend for the sake of health?”
“Yes.”
“Is not, then, health also a friend?”
“Certainly.”
36. “If, then, it is a friend, it must be so for the sake of something?”
“Yes.”
“And indeed of something friendly, if we will keep to our former admission?”
“Certainly.”
“Will not, therefore, that again be a friend, for the sake of something friendly?”
“Yes.”
“Must we not, then, necessarily be tired out with going on thus, and arrive at some principle, which will not have to be referred to another friend, but will arrive at that which is the first friend, for the sake of which we say that all other things are friendly?”
“Necessarily so.”
“This, then, is what I say, we must take care that all those other things which we said were friendly for the sake of that, do not, as being certain images of it, deceive us, but that that may be the first which is truly a friend. For let us consider it thus. If any one values any thing very highly, as, for instance, sometimes a father prizes a son above all other things, will not such an one, because he esteems his son above every thing, also value something else very highly? For instance, if he were to hear that he had drunk hemlock, would he not value wine very highly, if he thought this would save his son?”
“How should he not?” said he.
37. “And the vessel too that contained the wine?”
“Certainly.”
“Will he then set the same value on an earthenware cup as he does upon his son, or three measures of wine as on his son? or is the case thus?
all such anxiety is employed not about those things that are procured for the sake of something else, but about that for the sake of which all such things are procured: for although we often say that we value gold and silver very highly, yet we may observe that the truth is not at all the more thus; but what we value so very highly is that, whatever it may prove to be, for the sake of which gold and all other provisions are procured. Shall we not say so?”
“Certainly.”
“May not the same thing also be said of a friend? for whatever things we say are friendly to us, for the sake of some friendly thing, we appear to describe by a name that belongs to another, but that very thing seems in reality to be friendly in which all those so-called friendships terminate?”
“This seems to be the case,” said he.
“That, then, which is in reality friendly is not friendly for the sake of any other friendly thing?”
“True.”
“This, then, is settled, that what is friendly is not friendly for the sake of any other friendly thing. Is the good, then, friendly?”
“It seems so to me.”
38. “Is the good, then, loved on account of evil, and is the case thus?
If of the three things which we just now mentioned, good, evil, and that which is neither good nor evil, two only were to be left, but evil were to depart altogether, and not come in contact with any thing, either with body, or soul, or any other of the things which we say in themselves are neither evil nor good, in that case would not good be of no use to us, but become useless? For if there were nothing to hurt us any more, we should stand in need of no assistance whatever. And thus it would then become evident that we had a regard for and loved the good on account of evil, since good is a medicine for evil, but evil is a disease. But when there is no disease, there is no need of medicine. Is this, then, the nature of good, and is it loved on account of evil, by us who are placed between evil and good, and is it of no use itself, for the sake of itself?”
“Such seems to be the case,” he replied.
“That which is friendly, therefore, to us, is that in which terminate all other things, which we said are friendly for the sake of some other friendly thing, but in no respect resembles them? 39. For these are called friendly for the sake of a friendly thing; but that which is in reality friendly appears to be of a nature quite contrary to this; for we have found it to be friendly for the sake of that which is hostile: but if that which is hostile should depart, it would no longer, as it seems, be friendly to us.”
“It seems to me that it would not,” said he, “according to what is now said.”
“Whether, by Jupiter,” said I, “if evil were to be destroyed, would there no longer be any hunger or thirst, or any thing else of the kind?
or would there be hunger, if men and other animals existed, yet not so as to be hurtful? and thirst, and other desires, yet not be evil, since evil is destroyed? or is the question ridiculous, what would then be the case or not be the case? for who knows? This, however, we know, that at present it is possible to be harmed by being hungry, and it is also possible to be benefited; is it not so?”
“Certainly.”
“Therefore it is possible that one who thirsts, or is affected by any other similar desire, may sometimes be affected by it beneficially, and sometimes harmfully, and sometimes neither?”
“Assuredly.”
“If, therefore, evil were destroyed, must things that are not evil be destroyed together with the evil?”
“Not at all.”
“There will be, then, such desires as are neither good nor evil, even if evils were destroyed?”
“It appears so.”
40. “Is it, then, possible, that one who desires and is fond of any thing, should not love that which he desires and is fond of?”
“It does not appear so to me.”
“When evils, then, are destroyed, there will remain, as it seems, certain friendly things?”
“Yes.”
“Not so; at least if evil were the cause of any thing being friendly, for, when that is destroyed, one thing could not be friendly to another: for when the cause is destroyed, it is surely impossible that that of which it was the cause should any longer exist?”
“You say rightly.”
“Did we not admit that the friendly loved something, and on account of something, and did we not then think that, on account of evil, that which is neither good nor evil loved the good?”
“True.”
“But now, as it seems, there appears to be some other cause of loving and being loved?”
“So it seems.”
“Whether, then, in reality, as we just now said, is desire the cause of friendship, and is that which desires friendly to that which it desires, and at the time when it desires, but is what we before said was friendly mere trifling, like a poem[175] heedlessly composed?”
----- Footnote 175: I have adopted Ast’s suggestion of μάτην for μακρόν. Stallbaum would retain both, and read μακρὸν μάτην.
----- “It seems so,” said he.
“However,” I said, “that which desires desires that which it stands in need of; does it not?”
“Yes.”
“And is that which stands in need friendly to that of which it stands in need?”
“It seems so to me.”
“And it stands in need of that which is taken from it?”
“As it seems, then, love, friendship, and desire, respect that which belongs to a man; so it appears, Menexenus and Lysis?”
They both assented.
“If, therefore, you two are friends to each other, you must, in a manner, by nature belong to each other?”
“Assuredly,” they both replied.
“If, then,” said I, “any one desires or is fond of another, my boys, he could never desire, or be fond of, or be a friend, unless he, in a manner, belonged to the object of his love, either as to his soul, or as to some habit of the soul, or disposition, or form?”
“Certainly,” said Menexenus, but Lysis was silent.
“Well, then,” said I, “it has proved necessary for us to love that which by nature belongs to us?”
“It seems so,” said he.
“It is necessary, then, for a genuine, and not a pretended lover, to be beloved by his favourite?”
To this Lysis and Menexenus scarcely nodded assent, but Hippothales, through delight, exhibited all sorts of colours. And I, being willing to examine the matter, said, “If there is any difference between that which belongs to us and that which is like, we shall be able to say, as it seems to me, Lysis and Menexenus, respecting a friend, what he is, but if the like and that which belongs are the same, it is not easy to get rid of our former conclusion, that the like is useless to the like, as regards similitude; but to admit that what is useless can be friendly is absurd. 42. Are you willing, then,” I added, “since we are, as it were, intoxicated by the discussion, that we should grant and affirm that that which belongs is different from that which is like?”
“Certainly.”
“Whether, then, shall we admit that good belongs to every thing, but that evil is foreign? or that evil belongs to evil, good to good, and that which is neither good nor evil, to that which is neither good nor evil?”
They both said, that so it appeared to them, that each belongs to each.
“Again, therefore,” said I, “my boys, we have fallen upon those conclusions which we at first rejected respecting friendship. For the unjust will be no less a friend to the unjust, and the evil to the evil, than the good to the good.”
“So it seems,” he said.
“But what? if we should say that the good and that which belongs are the same, will not the good only be a friend to the good?”
“Certainly.”
“But in this too we thought we had confuted ourselves; do you not remember?”
“We do remember.”
“In what way, then, can we still deal with the subject; is it not clear, in no way at all? I require, then, like skilful pleaders in the law courts, to sum up all that has been said; for if neither those that are loved, nor those that love, nor the like, nor the unlike, nor the good, nor those that belong to us, nor any others that we have described, (for I do not remember them any further, on account of their number,) but if no one of these is a friend, I have nothing more to say.”
43. When I had said this, I purposed to stir up some one of the older men; but just then, like evil spirits, the pedagogues of Lysis and Menexenus approaching us, having hold of their brothers by their hand, called to them, and bade them go home, for it was already late. At first, then, both we and the bystanders drove them away; but when they paid no attention to us, but murmured in their barbarous dialect, and desisted not from calling them, and seemed to us, from having drunk too much at the Hermæan festival, to be difficult to manage, we yielded to them, and dissolved the conference. However, as they were just going away, I said, Lysis and Menexenus, we have made ourselves ridiculous, both I, an old man, and you; for those who are now leaving us will say, that we think ourselves to be each other’s friends, (for I reckon myself among you,) but that we have not yet been able to discover what a friend is.
END OF VOL. I.