A.  “Certainly; for I might pay away five obols instead of four.”

S.  “And so be punished, not by any anger of two and two against you, but by those very necessary laws of number, which you had mistaken?”

A.  “Yes.”

S.  “Or if you made a mistake concerning music, as that two consecutive notes could produce harmony, that opinion also, if you acted upon it, would be hurtful to you?”

A.  “Certainly; for I should make a discord, and pain my own ears, and my hearers’.”

S.  “And in this case also, be punished, not by any anger of the lyre against you, but by those very necessary laws of music which you had mistaken?”

A.  “Yes.”

S.  “Or if you mistook concerning a brave man, believing him to be a coward, might not this also be hurtful to you?  If, for instance, you attacked him carelessly, expecting him to run away, and he defended himself valiantly, and conquered you; or if you neglected to call for his help in need, expecting him falsely, as in the former case, to run away; would not such a mistake be hurtful to you, and punish you, not by any anger of the man against you, but by your mistake itself?”

A.  “It is evident.”

S.  “We may assume, then, that such mistakes at least are hurtful, and that they are liable to be punished by the very laws of that concerning which we mistake?”

A.  “We may so assume.”

S.  “Suppose, then, we were to say:  ’What argument is this of yours, Protagoras?-that concerning lesser things, both intellectual and moral, such as concerning number, music, or the character of a man, mistakes are hurtful, and liable to bring punishment, in proportion to our need of using those things:  but concerning the Gods, the very authors and lawgivers of number, music, human character, and all other things whatsoever, mistakes are of no consequence, nor in any way hurtful to man, who stands in need of their help, not only in stress of battle, once or twice in his life, as he might of the brave man, but always and in all things both outward and inward?  Does it not seem strange to you, for it does to me, that to make mistakes concerning such beings should not bring an altogether infinite and daily punishment, not by any resentment of theirs, but, as in the case of music or numbers, by the very fact of our having mistaken the laws of their being, on which the whole universe depends?’-What do you suppose Protagoras would be able to answer, if he faced the question boldly?”

A.  “I cannot tell.”

S.  “Nor I either.  Yet one thing more it may be worth our while to examine.  If one should mistake concerning God, will his error be one of excess, or defect?”

A.  “How can I tell?”

S.  “Let us see.  Is not Zeus more perfect than all other beings?”

A.  “Certainly, if it be true that, as they say, the perfection of each kind of being is derived from him; he must therefore be himself more perfect than any one of those perfections.”