governing all things, and utilizing them.
Cri. And were you not right, Socrates?
Soc. You shall judge, Crito, if you are willing to hear what followed;
for we resumed the enquiry, and a question of this sort was asked:
Does the kingly art, having this supreme authority, do anything for
us? To be sure, was the answer. And would not you, Crito, say the
same?
Cri. Yes, I should.
Soc. And what would you say that the kingly art does? If medicine were
supposed to have supreme authority over the subordinate arts, and I
were to ask you a similar question about that, you would say-it
produces health?
Cri. I should.
Soc. And what of your own art of husbandry, supposing that to have
supreme authority over the subject arts-what does that do? Does it not
supply us with the fruits of the earth?
Cri. Yes.
Soc. And what does the kingly art do when invested with supreme power?
Perhaps you may not be ready with an answer?
Cri. Indeed I am not, Socrates.
Soc. No more were we, Crito. But at any rate you know that if this is
the art which we were seeking, it ought to be useful.
Cri. Certainly.
Soc. And surely it ought to do us some good?
Cri. Certainly, Socrates.
Soc. And Cleinias and I had arrived at the conclusion that knowledge
of some kind is the only good.
Cri. Yes, that was what you were saying.
Soc. All the other results of politics, and they are many, as for
example, wealth, freedom, tranquillity, were neither good nor evil in
themselves; but the political science ought to make us wise, and
impart knowledge to us, if that is the science which is likely to do
us good, and make us happy.
Cri. Yes; that was the conclusion at which you had arrived, according
to your report of the conversation.
Soc. And does the kingly art make men wise and good?
Cri. Why not, Socrates?
Soc. What, all men, and in every respect? and teach them all the
arts,-carpentering, and cobbling, and the rest of them?
Cri. I think not, Socrates.
Soc. But then what is this knowledge, and what are we to do with it?
For it is not the source of any works which are neither good nor evil,
and gives no knowledge, but the knowledge of itself; what then can it
be, and what are we to do with it? Shall we say, Crito, that it is the
knowledge by which we are to make other men good?
Cri. By all means.
Soc. And in what will they be good and useful? Shall we repeat that
they will make others good, and that these others will make others
again, without ever determining in what they are to be good; for we
have put aside the results of politics, as they are called. This is
the old, old song over again; and we are just as far as ever, if not
farther, from the knowledge of the art or science of happiness.
.Cri. Indeed, Socrates, you do appear to have got into a great
perplexity.
Soc. Thereupon, Crito, seeing that I was on the point of shipwreck, I
lifted up my voice, and earnestly entreated and called upon the
strangers to save me and the youth from the whirlpool of the argument;
they were our Castor and Pollux, I said, and they should be serious,
and show us in sober earnest what that knowledge was which would
enable us to pass the rest of our lives in happiness.
Cri. And did Euthydemus show you this knowledge?
Soc. Yes, indeed; he proceeded in a lofty strain to the following
effect: Would you rather, Socrates, said he, that I should show you
this knowledge about which you have been doubting, or shall I prove