260
Phaedrus. You are right.
260
Socrates. Let us then examine it in this way.
260
Phaedrus. How?
260
Socrates. If I should urge you to buy a horse and fight against the invaders, and neither of us knew what a horse was, but I merely knew this about you, that Phaedrus thinks a horse is the one of the tame animals which has the longest ears—
260
Phaedrus. It would be ridiculous, Socrates.
260
Socrates. No, not yet; but if I tried to persuade you in all seriousness, composing a speech in praise of the ass, which I called a horse, and saying that the beast was a most valuable possession at home and in war, that you could use him as a mount in battle, and that he was able to carry baggage and was useful for many other purposes—
260
Phaedrus. Then it would be supremely ridiculous.
260
Socrates. But is it not better to be ridiculous than to be clever and an enemy?
260
Phaedrus. To be sure.
260
Socrates. Then when the orator who does not know what good and evil are undertakes to persuade a state which is equally ignorant, not by praising the shadow of an ass under the name of a horse, but by praising evil under the name of good, and having studied the opinions of the multitude persuades them to do evil instead of good, what harvest do you suppose his oratory will reap thereafter from the seed he has sown?
260
Phaedrus. No very good harvest.
260
Socrates. Well, do you think we have reproached the art of speaking too harshly? Perhaps she might say: Why do you talk such nonsense, you strange men? I do not compel anyone to learn to speak without knowing the truth, but if my advice is of any value, he learns that first and then acquires me. So what I claim is this, that without my help the knowledge of the truth does not give the art of persuasion.
260
Phaedrus. And will she be right in saying this?
