therefore he could not have
been a good statesman. The same tale might be repeated about Cimon,
Themistocles, Miltiades. But the charioteer who keeps his seat at
first is not thrown out when he gains greater experience and skill. The
inference is, that the statesman of a past age were no better than
those of our own. They may have been cleverer constructors of docks and
harbours, but they did not improve the character of the citizens. I have
told you again and again (and I purposely use the same images) that the
soul, like the body, may be treated in two ways--there is the meaner and
the higher art. You seemed to understand what I said at the time, but
when I ask you who were the really good statesmen, you answer--as if I
asked you who were the good trainers, and you answered, Thearion, the
baker, Mithoecus, the author of the Sicilian cookery-book, Sarambus,
the vintner. And you would be affronted if I told you that these are a
parcel of cooks who make men fat only to make them thin. And those whom
they have fattened applaud them, instead of finding fault with them, and
lay the blame of their subsequent disorders on their physicians. In this
respect, Callicles, you are like them; you applaud the statesmen of
old, who pandered to the vices of the citizens, and filled the city with
docks and harbours, but neglected virtue and justice. And when the
fit of illness comes, the citizens who in like manner applauded
Themistocles, Pericles, and others, will lay hold of you and my friend
Alcibiades, and you will suffer for the misdeeds of your predecessors.
The old story is always being repeated--'after all his services, the
ungrateful city banished him, or condemned him to death.' As if the
statesman should not have taught the city better! He surely cannot blame
the state for having unjustly used him, any more than the sophist
or teacher can find fault with his pupils if they cheat him. And the
sophist and orator are in the same case; although you admire rhetoric
and despise sophistic, whereas sophistic is really the higher of the
two. The teacher of the arts takes money, but the teacher of virtue or
politics takes no money, because this is the only kind of service which
makes the disciple desirous of requiting his teacher.

Socrates concludes by finally asking, to which of the two modes
of serving the state Callicles invites him:--'to the inferior and
ministerial one,' is the ingenuous reply. That is the only way of
avoiding d