Laches or Courage - 6
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | >6< | 7
La. To what extent and what principle do you mean?
Soc. The principle of endurance. We too must endure and persevere in
the enquiry, and then courage will not laugh at our faintheartedness
in searching for courage; which after all may, very likely, be
endurance.
La. I am ready to go on, Socrates; and yet I am unused to
investigations of this sort. But the spirit of controversy has been
aroused in me by what has been said; and I am really grieved at
being thus unable to-express my meaning. For I fancy that I do know
the nature of courage; but, somehow or other, she has slipped away
from me, and I cannot get hold of her and tell her nature.
Soc. But, my dear friend, should not the good sportsman follow the
track, and not be lazy?
La. Certainly, he should.
Soc. And shall we invite Nicias to join us? he may be better at
the sport than we are. What do you say?
La. I should like that.
Soc. Come then, Nicias, and do what you can to help your friends,
who are tossing on the waves of argument, and at the last gasp: you
see our extremity, and may save us and also settle your own opinion,
if you will tell us what you think about courage.
Nic. I have been thinking, Socrates, that you and Laches are not
defining courage in the right way; for you have forgotten an excellent
saying which I have heard from your own lips.
Soc. What is it, Nicias?
Nic. I have often heard you say that "Every man is good in that in
which he is wise, and bad in that in which he is unwise."
Soc. That is certainly true, Nicias.
Nic. And therefore if the brave man is good, he is also wise.
Soc. Do you hear him, Laches?
La. Yes, I hear him, but I do not very well understand him.
Soc. I think that I understand him; and he appears to me to mean
that courage is a sort of wisdom.
La. What can he possibly mean, Socrates?
Soc. That is a question which you must ask of himself.
La. Yes.
Soc. Tell him then, Nicias, what you mean by this wisdom; for you
surely do not mean the wisdom which plays the flute?
Nic. Certainly not.
Soc. Nor the wisdom which plays the lyre?
Nic. No.
Soc. But what is this knowledge then, and of what?
La. I think that you put the question to him very well, Socrates;
and I would like him to say what is the nature of this knowledge or
wisdom.
Nic. I mean to say, Laches, that courage is the knowledge of that
which inspires fear or confidence in war, or in anything.
La. How strangely he is talking, Socrates.
Soc. Why do you say so, Laches?
La. Why, surely courage is one thing, and wisdom another.
Soc. That is just what Nicias denies.
La. Yes, that is what he denies; but he is so.
Soc. Suppose that we instruct instead of abusing him?
Nic. Laches does not want to instruct me, Socrates; but having
been proved to be talking nonsense himself, he wants to prove that I
have been doing the same.
La. Very true, Nicias; and you are talking nonsense, as I shall
endeavour to show. Let me ask you a question: Do not physicians know
the dangers of disease? or do the courageous know them? or are the
physicians the same as the courageous?
Nic. Not at all.
La. No more than the husbandmen who know the dangers of husbandry,
or than other craftsmen, who have a knowledge of that which inspires
them with fear or confidence in their own arts, and yet they are not
courageous a whit the more for that.
Soc. What is Laches saying, Nicias? He appears to be saying
something of importance.
Nic. Yes, he is saying something, but it is not true.
Soc. How so?
Nic. Why, because he does not see that the physician's knowledge
only extends to the nature of health and disease: he can tell the sick
man no more than this. Do you imagine, Laches, that the physician
knows whether health or disease is the more terrible to a man? Had not
many a man better never get up from a sick bed? I should like to
know whether you think that life is always better than death. May
not death often be the better of the two?
La. Yes certainly so in my opinion.
Nic. And do you think that the same things are terrible to those who
had better die, and to those who had better live?
La. Certainly not.
Nic. And do you suppose that the physician or any other artist knows
this, or any one indeed, except he who is skilled in the grounds of
fear and hope? And him I call the courageous.
Soc. Do you understand his meaning, Laches?
La. Yes; I suppose that, in his way of speaking, the soothsayers are
courageous. For who but one of them can know to whom to die or to live
is better? And yet Nicias, would you allow that you are yourself a
soothsayer, or are you neither a soothsayer nor courageous?
Nic. What! do you mean to say that the soothsayer ought to know
the grounds of hope or fear?
La. Indeed I do: who but he?
Nic. Much rather I should say he of whom I speak; for the soothsayer
ought to know only the signs of things that are about to come to pass,
whether death or disease, or loss of property, or victory, or defeat
in war, or in any sort of contest; but to whom the suffering or not
suffering of these things will be for the best, can no more be decided
by the soothsayer than by one who is no soothsayer.
La. I cannot understand what Nicias would be at, Socrates; for he
represents the courageous man as neither a soothsayer, nor a
physician, nor in any other character, unless he means to say that
he is a god. My opinion is that he does not like honestly to confess
that he is talking nonsense, but that he shuffles up and down in order
to conceal the difficulty into which he has got himself. You and I,
Socrates, might have practised a similar shuffle just now, if we had
only wanted to avoid the appearance of inconsistency. And if we had
been arguing in a court of law there might have been reason in so
doing; but why should a man deck himself out with vain words at a
meeting of friends such as this?
Soc. I quite agree with you, Laches, that he should not. But perhaps
Nicias is serious, and not merely talking for the sake of talking. Let
us ask him just to explain what he means, and if he has reason on
his side we will agree with him; if not, we will instruct him.
La. Do you, Socrates, if you like, ask him: I think that I have
asked enough.
Soc. I do not see why I should not; and my question will do for both
of us.
La. Very good.
Soc. Then tell me, Nicias, or rather tell us, for Laches and I are
partners in the argument: Do you mean to affirm that courage is the
knowledge of the grounds of hope and fear?
Nic. I do.
Soc. And not every man has this knowledge; the physician and the
soothsayer have it not; and they will not be courageous unless they
acquire it-that is what you were saying?
Nic. I was.
Soc. Then this is certainly not a thing which every pig would
know, as the proverb says, and therefore he could not be courageous.
Nic. I think not.
Soc. Clearly not, Nicias; not even such a big pig as the Crommyonian
sow would be called by you courageous. And this I say not as a joke,
but because I think that he who assents to your doctrine, that courage
is the knowledge of the grounds of fear and hope, cannot allow that
any wild beast is courageous, unless he admits that a lion, or a
leopard, or perhaps a boar, or any other animal, has such a degree
of wisdom that he knows things which but a few human beings ever
know by reason of their difficulty. He who takes your view of
courage must affirm that a lion, and a stag, and a bull, and a monkey,
have equally little pretensions to courage.
La. Capital, Socrates; by the gods, that is truly good. And I
hope, Nicias, that you will tell us whether these animals, which we
all admit to be courageous, are really wiser than mankind; or
whether you will have the boldness, in the face of universal
opinion, to deny their courage.
Nic. Why, Laches, I do not call animals or any other things which
have no fear of dangers, because they are ignorant of them,
courageous, but only fearless and senseless. Do you imagine that I
should call little children courageous, which fear no dangers
because they know none? There is a difference, to my way of
thinking, between fearlessness and courage. I am of opinion that
thoughtful courage is a quality possessed by very few, but that
rashness and boldness, and fearlessness, which has no forethought, are
very common qualities possessed by many men, many women, many
children, many animals. And you, and men in general, call by the
term "courageous" actions which I call rash;-my courageous actions are
wise actions.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | >6< | 7
|