VI

Pleasure and Virtue

The Hiero almost leads up to the suggestion that tyranny may be perfectly just. It starts from the opinion that tyranny is radically unjust. The tyrant is supposed to reject the just and noble, or virtue, in favor of the pleasant; or, since virtue is human goodness, he is supposed to reject the good in favor of the pleasant. This opinion is based on the general premise that the good and the pleasant are fundamentally different from each other in such a way that the right choice has to be guided by considerations of the good, and not by considerations of the pleasant.1

The thesis that tyranny is radically unjust forms the climax of Hiero’s indictment of tyranny. That indictment is exaggerated; Hiero simply reproduces without full conviction the gentleman’s image of the tyrant.² But the very fact that he is capable of using that image for a selfish purpose proves that his thesis is not altogether wrong. Xenophon has taken some pains to make it clear that while Hiero is not as unjust as he declares the tyrant to be, he is remarkably indifferent to virtue. He does not think of mentioning virtue among the greatest goods or the most choice worthy possessions. At best, he considers virtuous men, i.e., the virtue of others, to be useful. But even the virtue of others is not regarded by him as an object of delight: he does not seek, and never sought, his companions among the virtuous men. Not he, but Simonides, points out the insignificance of bodily pleasures.³ Only after having been driven into a corner by Simonides does he praise the virtue of the benefactor of human beings with a view to the fact that such virtue is productive of the highest honor and of unimpaired happiness.⁴

In attempting to educate a man of this kind, Simonides has no choice but to appeal to his desire for pleasure. In order to advise Hiero to rule as a virtuous tyrant, he has to show him that the tyrant cannot obtain pleasure, and in particular that kind of pleasure with which Hiero is chiefly concerned, viz., the pleasure deriving from being loved, but by being as virtuous as possible. What he shows Hiero is a way not so much to virtue as to pleasure. Strictly speaking, he does not advise him to become virtuous. He advises him to do the gratifying things himself while entrusting to others the things for which men incur hatred; to encourage certain virtues and pursuits among his subjects by offering prizes; to keep his bodyguard, yet to use it for the benefit of his subjects; and, generally speaking, to be as beneficent to his fellow citizens as possible. Now, the benefactor of his fellow citizens is not necessarily a man of excellence or a virtuous man. Simonides does not advise Hiero to practise any of the things which distinguish the virtuous man from the mere benefactor.

A comparison of the Hiero with Isocrates’ work on the tyrannical art (To Nicocles) makes perfectly clear how amazingly little of moral admonition proper there is in the Hiero. Simonides speaks only once of the virtue of the tyrant, and he never mentions any of the special virtues (moderation, courage, justice, wisdom, and so on) when speaking of the tyrant. Isocrates, on the other hand, does not tire of admonishing Nicocles to cultivate his mind, to practise virtue, wisdom, piety, truthfulness, meekness, self-control, moderation, urbanity, and dignity; he advises him to love peace and to prefer a noble death to a base life, as well as to take care of just legislation and adjudication; he calls a good counsellor the most useful and most “tyrannical” possession.5

If Simonides can be said to recommend virtue at all, he recommends it, not as an end, but as a means. He recommends just and noble actions to the tyrant as means to pleasure. In order to do this, Simonides, or Xenophon, had to have at his disposal a hedonistic justification of virtue. Moreoever, Simonides prepares his teaching by starting a discussion of whether tyrannical life is superior to private life from the point of view of pleasure. In discussing this subject, Hiero, and Simonides are compelled to examine a number of valuable things from the point of view of pleasure. The Hiero could only have been written by a man who had at his disposal a comprehensive hedonistic interpretation of human life.

Expression of essential parts of that hedonistic interpretation has been entrusted to Simonides who in one of his poems had said: “For what life of mortals, or what tyranny, is desirable without pleasure. Without her not even the lasting life of gods is to be envied.”6 It is difficult to say how Simonides conceived of the relation between pleasure and virtue except that he cannot have considered desirable a virtuous life which is devoid of pleasure. From the verses which he addressed to Scopas, it appears that he considered virtue essentially dependent on a man’s fate: no one is protected against coming into situations in which he is compelled to do base things.⁷ He gave the advice to be playful throughout, and not to be entirely serious about anything. Play is pleasant, and virtue, or gentlemanliness, is the serious thing par excellence.⁸ If a sophist is a man who uses his wisdom for the sake of gain and who employs arts of deception, Simonides was a sophist.⁹ The way in which he is presented in the Hiero does not contradict what we are told about the historical Simonides. Xenophon’s Simonides is an “economist”; he rejects the gentleman’s view of what is most desirable in favor of the view of the “real man”; he would be capable of going to any length in “contriving something”; and he is free from the responsibility of the citizen.¹⁰ While he speaks of the noblest and grandest contest and of the noblest and most blessed possession, he does not speak of the noblest and grandest, or most splendid possession (“virtue and justice and gentility”): he reserves his highest praise, not for virtue, but for happiness unmarred by envy, and, above all, for honor.¹¹ The amazingly amoral nature of the tyrannical teaching embodied in the second part of the Hiero as well as the hedonistic consideration of human things that is given in the first part accord perfectly with Simonides’ character.

Xenophon’s Simonides not only has a definite leaning toward hedonism; he even has at his disposal a philosophic justification for his views about the importance of pleasure. What he says in his initial statement about the various kinds of pleasure and pain reveals a definite theoretical interest in the subject. He divides all pleasures into three classes: pleasures of the body, pleasures of the soul, and pleasures common to body and soul. He subdivides the pleasures of the body into those related to a special organ (eyes, ears, nose, sexual organs) and those related to the whole body. His failure to subdivide the pleasures of the soul may not be due merely to his wish to stress the pleasures of the body in order to present himself as a lover of those pleasures; it may have to be traced also to the theoretical reasons that there are no parts of the soul in the sense in which there are parts of the body and that the pleasures common to men and brutes are more fundamental and therefore, from a certain theoretical point of view, more important than those characteristic of human beings.¹² He makes it clear that all pleasures and pains presuppose some kind of knowledge, an act of distinction or judgment, a perception of the senses or of thought.13 He distinguishes the knowledge presupposed by every pleasure and pain from the knowledge or perception of our pleasure or pain. He does not consider it unimportant to indicate that whereas we feel our own pleasures and pains, we merely observe those of others. He possibly alludes to a distinction between the and the with regard to pleasures and perceptions.¹⁴ When mentioning the pleasure deriving from sleep, he does not limit himself to pointing out that sleep is unambiguously pleasant; he raises in addition the theoretical question of how and by what and when we enjoy sleep; since he feels that he cannot answer this question, he explains why it is so particularly difficult to answer it.

If we understand by hedonism the thesis that the pleasant is identical with the good, Xenophon’s Simonides is not a hedonist. Before he ever mentions the pleasant, he mentions the good: he mentions at the very outset “better” knowledge, by which, of course, he does not mean “more pleasant” knowledge.¹⁵ In his enumeration of the various kinds of pleasure he makes it clear that he considers the pleasant and the good fundamentally different from each other: the good and the bad things are sometimes pleasant and sometimes painful. He does not explicitly say how he conceives of the precise relation between the pleasant and the good.¹⁶ To establish his view on the subject, we have to pay proper attention to the nonhedonistic principle of preference which he recognizes when he speaks with emphasis of “(ordinary) human beings” and of “(real) men.” First, regarding “human beings,” he seems to make a distinction between such pleasures as are in accordance with human nature and such pleasures as are against human nature:¹⁷ the preferable or good pleasures are those which agree with human nature. Simonides’ nonhedonistic principle of preference would then be “what agrees with human nature.” Now, ordinary human beings may enjoy as much pleasure as real men; yet real men are to be esteemed more highly than ordinary human beings.¹⁸ Hence, we may define Simonides’ nonhedonistic principle of preference more precisely by identifying it with “what agrees with the nature of real men.” Seeing that he praises nothing as highly as honor, and honor is most pleasant to real men as distinguished from ordinary human beings, we may say that the ultimate and complete principle of preference to which Simonides refers in the Hiero is the pleasure which agrees with the nature of real men. What he praises most highly is pleasant indeed, but pleasure alone does not define it sufficiently; it is pleasant on a certain level, and that level is determined, not by pleasure, but by the hierarchy of beings.19 He is then a hedonist only in so far as he rejects the view that considerations of pleasure are irrelevant for right choice: the right goal towards which one has to aim, or with reference to which one has to judge, must be something which is intrinsically pleasant. This view seems to have been held by the historical Simonides as is shown by his verses on pleasure quoted above. We may ascribe the same view to Xenophon’s Hiero, who admits the distinction between the good and the pleasant and who characterizes friendship, than which he praises nothing more highly, as both very good and very pleasant.²⁰

This qualified hedonism guides Simonides and Hiero in their examination of a number of valuable things. That examination leads to the conclusion suggested by Hiero that friendship has a higher value than city or fatherland or patriotism.²¹ Friendship, i.e., being loved and cared for by the small number of human beings whom one knows intimately (one’s nearest relatives and companions) is not only “a very great good”; it is also “very pleasant.” It is a very great good because it is intrinsically pleasant. Trust, i.e., one’s trusting others, is “a great good.” It is not a very great good, because it is not so much intrinsically pleasant as the conditio sine qua non of intrinsically pleasant relations. A man whom one trusts is not yet a friend: a servant or a bodyguard must be trustworthy, but there is no reason why they ought to be one’s friends. While trust is not intrinsically pleasant, it stands in a fairly close relation to pleasure: when discussing trust, Hiero mentions pleasure three times. On the other hand, in the passage immediately following in which he discusses “fatherlands,” he does not mention pleasure at all.²² Not only are “fatherlands” not intrinsically pleasant; they do not even stand in a close relation to pleasure. “Fatherlands are worth very much” because the citizens afford each other protection without pay against violent death and thus enable each citizen to live in safety. That for which the fatherland is “worth very much” is life in safety; safety, or freedom from fear, the spoiler of all pleasures, is the conditio sine qua non of every pleasure however insignificant; but to live in safety and to live pleasantly are clearly two different things. More precisely, the fatherland is not, as is trust, the specific condition of the great pleasures deriving from friendship: “strangers,” men like Simonides, may enjoy friendship.²³ Friendship and trust are good for human beings as such, but the cities are good primarily, not to say exclusively, for the citizens and the rulers; they are certainly less good for strangers, and still less for slaves.²⁴ The fatherland, or the city, is good for the citizens because it liberates them from fear. This does not mean that it abolishes fear; it rather replaces one kind of fear (the fear of enemies, evil-doers, and slaves) by another (the fear of the laws or of the law-enforcing authorities).25 The city, as distinguished from friendship and trust, is not possible without compulsion; and compulsion, constraint, or necessity is essentially unpleasant.²⁶ Friendship, i.e., being loved, is pleasant, while being patriotic is necessary.²⁷ While friendship, as praised by Hiero, is not only pleasant but also good, its goodness is not moral goodness or nobility: Hiero praises him who has friends regardless of whether the friends are morally good or not.²⁸ In so far as friendship is being loved, preferring friendship to fatherland is tantamount to preferring oneself to others: when speaking about friendship, Hiero is silent about the mutuality to which he explicitly refers when discussing trust and fatherland. It is tantamount to preferring one’s pleasure to one’s duties to others.

The thesis that friendship is a greater good than the fatherland is suggested by Hiero who has a strong motive for asserting that private life is superior to the life of the ruler which is the political life par excellence. But that thesis is more than a weapon convenient for Hiero’s purpose. Simonides, who could have been induced by his pedagogic intention rather to prefer fatherland to friendship, tacitly adopts Hiero’s thesis by advising the tyrant to consider his fatherland as his estate, his fellow citizens as his comrades, his friends as his children, and his sons as the same thing as his life or soul.²⁹ He is even less capable than Hiero of assigning to the fatherland the most exalted place among the objects of human attachment. He adopts Hiero’s thesis not only “by speech,” but “by deed” as well: he lives as a stranger; he chooses to live as a stranger. Contrary to Hiero, he never praises the fatherland or the city. When he urges Hiero to think of the common good, and of the happiness of the city, he emphasizes the fact that this advice is addressed to a tyrant or ruler. Not Simonides, but Hiero, is concerned with being loved by “human beings” in the mass and therefore has to be a lover of the city in order to reach his goal. Simonides desires nothing as much as praise by the small number of competent judges: he can be satisfied with a small group of friends.³⁰ It is hardly necessary to repeat that his spontaneous praise of honor is concerned exclusively with the benefit of him who is honored or praised and is silent about the benefits to be rendered to others or the duties to others.

The view that a nonpolitical good such as friendship is more valuable than the city was not the view of the citizen as such.³¹ It remains to be considered whether it was acceptable to citizen philosophers. Socrates agrees with Hiero as regards the fact that “the fatherlands are worth very much” because they afford safety, or protection against injury, to the citizens.32 Xenophon seems to indicate by the plan of the Memorabilia that Socrates attached a greater importance to the self than to the city.³³ This is in accordance with Xenophon’s distinction between the man of excellence and the benefactor of his fellow citizens. Xenophon himself was induced to accompany Cyrus, an old enemy of Athens, on his expedition against his brother by the promise of Proxenus, an old guest-friend of his, that he would make him a friend of Cyrus if he would come. Proxenus, a pupil of Gorgias, of a man who had no fixed domicile in any city,³⁴ explicitly stated that he himself considered Cyrus worth more to him than his fatherland. Xenophon does not say in so many words that he might conceivably come to consider Cyrus’ friendship preferable to his fatherland; but he certainly was not shocked by Proxenus’ statement and he certainly acted as if he were capable of sharing Proxenus’ sentiment. Socrates had some misgivings regarding Xenophon’s becoming a friend of Cyrus and he advised him therefore to consult Apollo about the journey; but Xenophon was so anxious to join Cyrus or to leave his fatherland that he decided at once to accept Proxenus’ invitation. Even after everything had gone wrong with Cyrus’ expedition, Xenophon was not anxious to return to his fatherland, although he was not yet exiled. If his comrades had not passionately protested, he would have founded a city “in some barbarian place”; not Xenophon, but his opponents, felt that one ought not to esteem anything more highly than Greece.³⁵ Later on, he did not hesitate to accompany Agesilaus on his campaign against Athens and her allies which culminated in the battle of Coronea.³⁶

Lest we be carried away by blind indignation,³⁷ we shall try to understand what we might call Xenophon’s theoretical and practical depreciation of the fatherland or the city³⁸ in the light of his political teaching in general and of the teaching of the Hiero in particular. If wisdom or virtue is the highest good, the fatherland or the city cannot be the highest good. If virtue is the highest good, not the fatherland as such, but only the virtuous community or the best political order can command a good man’s undivided loyalty. If he has to choose between a fatherland which is corrupt and a foreign city which is well ordered, he may be justified in preferring that foreign city to his fatherland. Precisely because he is a good man, he will not be a good citizen in a bad polity.³⁹ Just as in choosing horses one looks for the best, and not for those which are born in the country, the wise general will fill the ranks of his army not merely with his fellow citizens but with every available man who can be expected to be virtuous.40 In the spirit of this maxim Xenophon himself devoted his most extensive work to an idealizing description of the achievements of the “barbarian” Cyrus.

The reason why the city as such cannot lay claim to man’s ultimate attachment is implied in Xenophon’s “tyrannical” teaching. We have stated that according to that teaching beneficent tyranny is theoretically superior and practically inferior to rule of laws and legitimate government. In doing so, we might seem to have imputed to Xenophon the misologist view that a political teaching may be “morally and politically false … in proportion as (it is) metaphysically true.” But a pupil of Socrates must be presumed to have believed rather that nothing which is practically false can be theoretically true.⁴¹ If Xenophon did then not seriously hold the view that beneficent tyranny is superior to rule of laws and legitimate government, why did he suggest it at all? The “tyrannical” teaching, we shall answer, serves the purpose, not of solving the problem of the best political order, but of bringing to light the nature of political things. The “theoretical” thesis which favors beneficent tyranny is indispensable in order to make clear a crucial implication of the practically and hence theoretically true thesis which favors rule of law and legitimate government. The “theoretical” thesis is a most striking expression of the problem, or of the problematic character, of law and legitimacy: legal justice is a justice which is imperfect and more or less blind, and legitimate government is not necessarily “good government” and almost certainly will not be government by the wise. Law and legitimacy are problematic from the highest point of view, namely, from that of wisdom. In so far as the city is the community kept together, nay, constituted, by law, the city cannot so much as aspire to that highest moral and intellectual level attainable by certain individuals. Hence the best city is morally and intellectually on a lower plane than the best individual.⁴² The city as such exists on a lower plane than the individual as such. “Individualism” thus understood is at the bottom of Xenophon’s “cosmopolitanism.”

The emphasis on pleasure which characterizes the argument of the Hiero leads to a certain depreciation of virtue. For there is nothing in the dialogue to suggest that Simonides considered virtue intrinsically pleasant. The beneficence or virtue of the good tyrant procures for him the most noble and most blessed possession: it is not itself that possession. Simonides replaces the praise of virtue by a praise of honor. As appears from the context, this does not mean that only virtue can lead to honor. But even if it is meant this much, his praise of honor would imply that not virtue, but the reward or result of virtue, is intrinsically pleasant.43

Xenophon might seem to have revealed his, or his Socrates’, attitude toward hedonism, however understood, in a conversation between Socrates and Aristippus which he has recorded or invented. That conversation is chiefly concerned with the unequivocal connection between love of pleasure and the rejection of the life of a ruler: the pleasure-loving Aristippus goes so far as to prefer explicitly the life of a stranger to political life in any sense. Socrates concludes the conversation by reciting a summary of Prodicus’ writing on Hercules in which the pursuit of pleasure is almost identified with vice.⁴⁴ This is appropriate only if Aristippus’ view is taken to imply a remarkable depreciation of virtue. It is not impossible that the historical Aristippus has served to some extent as a model for Xenophon’s Simonides. To say nothing of his hedonistic teaching, he was the first of the Socratics to take pay for his teaching and he could adjust himself to places, times, and men so well that he was particularly popular with the Syracusan tyrant Dionysius.⁴⁵

Be this as it may, the conversation referred to between Socrates and Aristippus tells us very little about Xenophon’s attitude toward hedonism. After all, Socrates and Aristippus discuss almost exclusively the pleasures of the body; they barely mention the pleasures deriving from honor or praise. Besides, it would be rash to exclude the possibility that Xenophon’s account of that conversation is to a certain extent ironical. That possibility is suggested by the disproportionately ample use which Socrates explicitly makes of an epideictic writing of the sophist Prodicus as an instrument of moral education.⁴⁶ Let us not forget the fact that in the only conversation between Socrates and Xenophon which is recorded in the latter’s Socratic writings, Xenophon presents himself as a lover of certain sensual pleasures and as being rebuked by Socrates in much more severe terms than Aristippus ever was. This is not surprising, of course, since Xenophon is more explicit than Aristippus in praising the pursuit of sensual pleasure.⁴⁷ To point, therefore, to facts which are perhaps less ambiguous, Xenophon no more than his Simonides contends that virtue is the most blessed possession; he indicates that virtue is dependent on external goods and, far from being an end in itself, ought to be in the service of the acquisition of pleasure, wealth, and honors.⁴⁸

At first glance, it is not altogether wrong to ascribe the same view even to Socrates. A distinguished historian did ascribe it, not only to Xenophon’s Socrates, but to Plato’s as well. “D’une part, son bon sens et sa grande sagesse pratique lui font sentir qu’il doit y avoir un principe d’action supérieur à l’agréable ou au plaisir immédiat; d’autre part, quand il s’efforce de déterminer ce principe lui-même, il ne parvient pas à le distinguer de l’utile, et lutile lui-même ne diffère pas essentiellement de l’agréable.” Yet one cannot leave it at that; one has to acknowledge that Socrates’ teaching is characterized by a fundamental contradiction: “Socrate recommande de pratiquer les diverses vertus à cause des avantages matériels qu’elles sont susceptibles de nous procurer; mais ces avantages il n’en jouit jamais.”49 Could Socrates, who insisted so strongly on the indispensable harmony between deed and speech completely have failed to account “by speech” for what he was revealing “by deed”? To solve the contradiction in question, one merely has to remind oneself of the distinction which Xenophon’s Socrates makes silently and Plato’s Socrates makes explicitly between two kinds of virtue or gentlemanliness: between common or political virtue, whose ends are wealth and honor, and true virtue which is identical with self-sufficient wisdom.⁵⁰ The fact that Socrates sometimes creates the impression that he was oblivious of true virtue, or that he mistook common virtue for true virtue, is explained by his habit of leading his discussions, as far as possible, “through the opinions accepted by human beings.”⁵¹ Thus the question of Socrates’ attitude toward hedonism is reduced to the question as to whether wisdom, the highest good, is intrinsically pleasant. If we may trust Xenophon, Socrates has disclosed his answer in his last conversation: not so much wisdom, or true virtue itself, as one’s consciousness of one’s progress in wisdom or virtue, affords the highest pleasure.⁵² Thus Socrates ultimately leaves no doubt as to the fundamental difference between the good and the pleasant. No man can be simply wise; therefore, not wisdom, but progress toward wisdom is the highest good for man. Wisdom cannot be separated from self-knowledge; therefore, progress toward wisdom will be accompanied by awareness of that progress. And that awareness is necessarily pleasant. This whole—the progress and the awareness of it—is both the best and the most pleasant thing for man. It is in this sense that the highest good is intrinsically pleasant. Concerning the thesis that the most choice-worthy thing must be intrinsically pleasant, there is then no difference between the historical Simonides, Xenophon’s Simonides, and Xenophon’s Socrates, and, indeed, Plato’s Socrates.⁵³ Nor is this all. There is even an important agreement between Xenophon’s Simonides and his Socrates as regards the object of the highest pleasure. For what else is the pleasant consciousness of one’s progress in wisdom or virtue but one’s reasonable and deserved satisfaction with, and even admiration of,54 oneself? The difference between Socrates and Simonides seems then to be that Socrates is not at all concerned with being admired or praised by others, whereas Simonides is concerned exclusively with it. To reduce this difference to its proper proportions, it is well to remember that Simonides’ statement on praise or honor is meant to serve a pedagogical function. The Hiero does not supply us then with the most adequate formulation of Xenophon’s view regarding the relation of pleasure and virtue. But it is the only writing of Xenophon which has the merit, and even the function, of posing the problem of that relation in its most radical form: in the form of the question as to whether the demands of virtue cannot be completely replaced by, or reduced to, the desire for pleasure, if for the highest pleasure.