of the good.
That friends are not necessarily either like or unlike, is also a truth
confirmed by experience. But the use of the terms 'like' or 'good' is
too strictly limited; Socrates has allowed himself to be carried away
by a sort of eristic or illogical logic against which no definition
of friendship would be able to stand. In the course of the argument
he makes a distinction between property and accident which is a real
contribution to the science of logic. Some higher truths appear through
the mist. The manner in which the field of argument is widened, as in
the Charmides and Laches by the introduction of the idea of knowledge,
so here by the introduction of the good, is deserving of attention. The
sense of the inter-dependence of good and evil, and the allusion to the
possibility of the non-existence of evil, are also very remarkable.

The dialectical interest is fully sustained by the dramatic
accompaniments. Observe, first, the scene, which is a Greek Palaestra,
at a time when a sacrifice is going on, and the Hermaea are in course of
celebration; secondly, the 'accustomed irony' of Socrates, who declares,
as in the Symposium, that he is ignorant of all other things, but claims
to have a knowledge of the mysteries of love. There are likewise several
contrasts of character; first of the dry, caustic Ctesippus, of whom
Socrates professes a humorous sort of fear, and Hippothales the flighty
lover, who murders sleep by bawling out the name of his beloved; there
is also a contrast between the false, exaggerated, sentimental love of
Hippothales towards Lysis, and the childlike and innocent friendship
of the boys with one another. Some difference appears to be intended
between the characters of the more talkative Menexenus and the reserved
and simple Lysis. Socrates draws out the latter by a new sort of irony,
which is sometimes adopted in talking to children, and consists in
asking a leading question which can only be answered in a sense contrary
to the intention of the question: 'Your father and mother of course
allow you to drive the chariot?' 'No they do not.' When Menexenus
returns, the serious dialectic begins. He is described as 'very
pugnacious,' and we are thus prepared for the part which a mere youth
takes in a difficult argument. But Plato has not forgotten dramatic
propriety, and Socrates proposes at last to refer the question to some
older person.

SOME QUESTIONS RELATING TO FRIENDSHIP.

The subject