Protagoras the Sophist
Table of Contents
They call Protagoras a Sophist.
How about yourself? What will Protagoras make of you, if you go to see him?
(Blushing) I suppose that he will make a Sophist of me.
Are you not ashamed at having to appear before the Hellenes in the character of a Sophist?
Yes I am.
But you should not assume, Hippocrates, that the instruction of Protagoras is of this nature: may you not learn of him in the same way that you learned the arts of the grammarian, or musician, or trainer, not with the view of making any of them a profession, but only as a part of education, and because a private gentleman and freeman ought to know them?
Just so, and that, in my opinion, is a far truer account of the teaching of Protagoras.
You are going to commit your soul to the care of a Sophist. Yet you do not know what a Sophist is, whether he is good or evil.
The Sophist knows wise things, as his name implies.
But that is true of the painter and of the carpenter also.
How are the painters wise?
They are wise in what relates to the making of likenesses, and similarly of other things.
What is the wisdom of the Sophist, and what is the manufacture over which he presides?
He presides over the art which makes men eloquent.
Of what does the Sophist make a man talk eloquently?
The player on the lyre may be supposed to make a man talk eloquently about that which he makes him understand, that is about playing the lyre. The Sophist is eloquent on things which he understands.
What is that which the Sophist knows and makes his disciple know?
I cannot tell. Are you aware of the danger which you are incurring?
Before you commit your body to someone, you would:
- ask the opinion of your friends and kindred, and
- deliberate as to whether you should give him the care of your body
The soul has far more value than the body.
In the evening, you hear of him.
In the morning, you go to him, never deliberating or taking the opinion of any one as to whether you ought to intrust yourself to him or not.
You have quite made up your mind that you will at all hazards be a pupil of Protagoras, and are prepared to expend all the property of yourself and of your friends in carrying out at any price this determination, although, as you admit, you do not know him, and have never spoken with him.
You call him a Sophist, but are manifestly ignorant of what a Sophist is; and yet you are going to commit yourself to his keeping.
A Sophist is one who deals wholesale or retail in the food of the soul – knowledge.
The Sophist deceives when he praises what he sells, like the dealers wholesale or retail who sell the food of the body.
They praise indiscriminately all their goods, without knowing what are really beneficial or hurtful: neither do their customers know, with the exception of any trainer or physician who may happen to buy of them.
In like manner those who carry about the wares of knowledge, and make the round of the cities, and sell or retail them to any customer who is in want of them, praise them all alike.
Though I should not wonder, O my friend, if many of them were really ignorant of their effect upon the soul; and their customers equally ignorant, unless he who buys of them happens to be a physician of the soul.
If, therefore, you have understanding of what is good and evil, you may safely buy knowledge of Protagoras or of any one; but if not, then, O my friend, pause, and do not hazard your dearest interests at a game of chance.
For there is far greater peril in buying knowledge than in buying meat and drink: the one you purchase of the wholesale or retail dealer, and carry them away in other vessels, and before you receive them into the body as food, you may deposit them at home and call in any experienced friend who knows what is good to be eaten or drunken, and what not, and how much, and when; and then the danger of purchasing them is not so great. But you cannot buy the wares of knowledge and carry them away in another vessel; when you have paid for them you must receive them into the soul and go your way, either greatly harmed or greatly benefited; and therefore we should deliberate and take counsel with our elders; for we are still young—too young to determine such a matter. And now let us go, as we were intending, and hear Protagoras; and when we have heard what he has to say, we may take counsel of others; for not only is Protagoras at the house of Callias, but there is Hippias of Elis, and, if I am not mistaken, Prodicus of Ceos, and several other wise men.
To this we agreed, and proceeded on our way until we reached the vestibule of the house; and there we stopped in order to conclude a discussion which had arisen between us as we were going along; and we stood talking in the vestibule until we had finished and come to an understanding. And I think that the door-keeper, who was a eunuch, and who was probably annoyed at the great inroad of the Sophists, must have heard us talking. At any rate, when we knocked at the door, and he opened and saw us, he grumbled: They are Sophists—he is not at home; and instantly gave the door a hearty bang with both his hands. Again we knocked, and he answered without opening: Did you not hear me say that he is not at home, fellows? But, my friend, I said, you need not be alarmed; for we are not Sophists, and we are not come to see Callias, but we want to see Protagoras; and I must request you to announce us. At last, after a good deal of difficulty, the man was persuaded to open the door.