That is very likely, I said ; and very likely, too, we have been enquiring to no purpose ; as I am led to infer, because I observe that if this is wisdom, some strange consequences would follow. Let us, if you please, assume the possibility of this science of sciences, and further admit and allow, as was originally suggested, that wisdom is the knowledge of what we know and do not know. Assuming all this, still, upon further consideration, I am doubtful, Critias, whether wisdom, such as this, would do us much good. For we were wrong, I think, in supposing, as we were saying just now, that such wisdom ordering the government of house or state would be a great benefit.
How so ? he said.
Why, I said, we were far too ready to admit the great benefits which mankind would obtain from their severally doing the things which they knew, and committing the things of which they are ignorant to those who were better acquainted with them.
Were we not right in making that admission ?
I think not.
How very strange, Socrates !
By the dog of Egypt, I said, there I agree with you ; and I was thinking as much just now when I said that strange consequences would follow, and that I was afraid we were on the wrong track ; for however ready we may be to admit that this is wisdom, I certainly cannot make out what good this sort of thing does to us.
What do you mean ? he said ; I wish that you could make me understand what you mean.
I dare say that what I am saying is nonsense, I replied ; and yet if a man has any feeling of what is due to himself, he cannot let the thought which comes into his mind pass away unheeded and unexamined.
I like that, he said.
Hear, then, I said, my own dream ; whether coming through the horn or the ivory gate, I cannot tell. The dream is this : Let us suppose that wisdom is such as we are now defining, and that she has absolute sway over us ; then each action will be done according to the arts or sciences, and no one professing to be a pilot when he is not, or any physician or general, or any one else pretending to know matters of which he is ignorant, will deceive or elude us ; our health will be improved ; our safety at sea, and also in battle, will be assured ; our coats and shoes, and all other instruments and implements will be skilfully made, because the workmen will be good and true. Aye, and if you please, you may suppose that prophecy, which is the knowledge of the future, will be under the control of wisdom, and that she will deter deceivers and set up the true prophets in their place as the revealers of the future. Now I quite agree that mankind, thus provided, would live and act according to knowledge, for wisdom would watch and prevent ignorance from intruding on us. But whether by acting according to knowledge we shall act well and be happy, my dear Critias, — this is a point which we have not yet been able to determine.
Yet I think, he replied, that if you discard knowledge, you will hardly find the crown of happiness in anything else.
But of what is this knowledge ? I said. Just answer me that small question. Do you mean a knowledge of shoemaking ?
God forbid.
Or of working in brass ?
Certainly not.
Or in wool, or wood, or anything of that sort ?
No, I do not.
Then, I said, we are giving up the doctrine that he who lives according to knowledge is happy, for these live according to knowledge, and yet they are not allowed by you to be happy ; but I think that you mean to confine happiness to particular individuals who live according to knowledge, such for example as the prophet, who, as I was saying, knows the future. Is it of him you are speaking or of some one else ?
Yes, I mean him, but there are others as well.
Yes, I said, some one who knows the past and present as well as the future, and is ignorant of nothing. Let us suppose that there is such a person, and if there is, you will allow that he is the most knowing of all living men.
Certainly he is.
Yet I should like to know one thing more : which of the different kinds of knowledge makes him happy ? or do all equally make him happy ?
Not all equally, he replied.
But which most tends to make him happy ? the knowledge of what past, present, or future thing ? May I infer this to be the knowledge of the game of draughts ?
Nonsense about the game of draughts.
Or of computation ?
No.
Or of health ?
That is nearer the truth, he said.
And that knowledge which is nearest of all, I said, is the knowledge of what ?
The knowledge with which he discerns good and evil.
Monster ! I said ; you have been carrying me round in a circle, and all this time hiding from me the fact that the life according to knowledge is not that which makes men act rightly and be happy, not even if knowledge include all the sciences, but one science only, that of good and evil. For, let me ask you, Critias, whether, if you take away this, medicine will not equally give health, and shoemaking equally produce shoes, and the art of the weaver clothes ? — whether the art of the pilot will not equally save our lives at sea, and the art of the general in war ?
Quite so.
And yet, my dear Critias, none of these things will be well or beneficially done, if the science of the good be wanting.
True.
But that science is not wisdom or temperance, but a science of human advantage ; not a science of other sciences, or of ignorance, but of good and evil : and if this be of use, then wisdom or temperance will not be of use.
And why, he replied, will not wisdom be of use ? For, however much we assume that wisdom is a science of sciences, and has a sway over other sciences, surely she will have this particular science of the good under her control, and in this way will benefit us.
And will wisdom give health ? I said ; is not this rather the effect of medicine ? Or does wisdom do the work any of the other arts, do they not each of them do their own work ? Have we not long ago asseverated that wisdom is only the knowledge of knowledge and of ignorance, and of nothing else ?
That is obvious.
Then wisdom will not be the producer of health.
Certainly not.
The art of health is different.
Yes, different.
Nor does wisdom give advantage, my good friend ; for that again we have just now been attributing to another art.
Very true.
How then can wisdom be advantageous, when giving no advantage ?
That, Socrates, is certainly inconceivable.