Then the final principle of friendship, in which all other friendships terminated, those, I mean, which are relatively dear and for the sake of something else, is of another and a different nature from them. For they are called dear because of another dear or friend. But with the true friend or dear, the case is quite the reverse; for that is proved to be dear because of the hated, and if the hated were away it would be no longer dear. Very true, he replied: at any rate not if our present view holds good. But, oh! will you tell me, I said, whether if evil were to perish, we should hunger any more, or thirst any more, or have any similar desire? Or may we suppose that hunger will remain while men and animals remain, but not so as to be hurtful? And the same of thirst and the other desires,--that they will remain, but will not be evil because evil has perished? Or rather shall I say, that to ask what either will be then or will not be is ridiculous, for who knows? This we do know, that in our present condition hunger may injure us, and may also benefit us:--Is not that true? Yes. And in like manner thirst or any similar desire may sometimes be a good and sometimes an evil to us, and sometimes neither one nor the other? To be sure. But is there any reason why, because evil perishes, that which is not evil should perish with it? None. Then, even if evil perishes, the desires which are neither good nor evil will remain? Clearly they will. And must not a man love that which he desires and affects? He must. Then, even if evil perishes, there may still remain some elements of love or friendship? Yes. But not if evil is the cause of friendship: for in that case nothing will be the friend of any other thing after the destruction of evil; for the effect cannot remain when the cause is destroyed. True. And have we not admitted already that the friend loves something for a reason? and at the time of making the admission we were of opinion that the neither good nor evil loves the good because of the evil? Very true. But now our view is changed, and we conceive that there must be some other cause of friendship? I suppose so. May not the truth be rather, as we were saying just now, that desire is the cause of friendship; for that which desires is dear to that which is desired at the time of desiring it? and may not the other theory have been only a long story about nothing? Likely enough. But surely, I said, he who desires, desires that of which he is in want? Yes. And that of which he is in want is dear to him? True. And he is in want of that of which he is deprived? Certainly. Then love, and desire, and friendship would appear to be of the natural or congenial. Such, Lysis and Menexenus, is the inference. They assented. Then if you are friends, you must have natures which are congenial to one another? Certainly, they both said.