Book 9

Section 583

There being, then, three kinds of pleasure, the pleasure of that part of the soul whereby we learn is the sweetest, and the life of the man in whom that part dominates is the most pleasurable. How could it be otherwise? he said. At any rate the man of intelligence speaks with authority when he commends his own life. And to what life and to what pleasure, I said, does the judge assign the second place? Obviously to that of the warrior and honor-loving type, for it is nearer to the first than is the life of the money-maker. And so the last place belongs to the lover of gain, as it seems. Surely, said he. That, then, would be two points in succession and two victories for the just man over the unjust. And now for the third in the Olympian fashion to the saviour and to Olympian Zeus—observe that other pleasure than that of the intelligence is not altogether even real or pure, but is a kind of scene-painting, as I seem to have heard from some wise man ; and yet this would be the greatest and most decisive overthrow. Much the greatest. But what do you mean? I shall discover it, I said, if you will answer my questions while I seek. Ask, then, he said. Tell me, then, said I, do we not say that pain is the opposite of pleasure? We certainly do. And is there not such a thing as a neutral state There is. Is it not intermediate between them, and in the mean, being a kind of quietude of the soul in these respects? Or is not that your notion of it? It is that, said he. Do you not recall the things men say in sickness? What sort of things? Why, that after all there is nothing sweeter than to be well, though they were not aware that it is the highest pleasure before they were Ill. I remember, he said. And do you not hear men afflicted with severe pain saying that there is no greater pleasure than the cessation of this suffering? I do. And you perceive, I presume, many similar conditions in which men while suffering pain praise freedom from pain and relief from that as the highest pleasure, and not positive delight. Yes, he said, for this in such cases is perhaps what is felt as pleasurable and acceptable—peace. And so, I said, when a man’s delight comes to an end, the cessation of pleasure will be painful. It may be so, he said. What, then,we just now described as the intermediate state between the two—this quietude—will sometimes be both pain and pleasure. It seems so Is it really possible for that which is neither to become both ? I think not. And further, both pleasure and pain arising in the soul are a kind of motion, are they not? Yes.