‘Why,’ I said, ‘they are doomed to frustration, for the opportunities of wealth are not infinite. And at first it was reasonable to encourage men of business that the resources of the land might be organized, but when that has been done there begins a struggle among the people for the largest share of the resources. And, in the end, that phase also passes and the game is played out and the different resources are controlled by different groups of men. No newcomers can fight against them, and the young men must be content to serve these groups, finding their reward in promotion and pay as though they were soldiers, as in a manner they are. And these promotions also grow rigid and mechanical in time. And great wealth is then only to be won in some strange and lucky way, and the battle for the market grows keener, and the cleverest men devote themselves to what they call progressive advertising, and the “Problem of Salesmanship.”’ ‘What is progressive advertising?’ asked Lysis. ‘It is arousing the widest possible sense of want.’ ‘What is the Problem of Salesmanship?’ asked Phaelon. ‘It is how best to mislead people about their own desires; persuading them to give their time and strength and money to obtain something they do not at all need, thus making them the instruments of your private gain.’ Phaelon at once demanded: ‘And do they kill the salesman who does this?’ ‘By the pillars of Hercules, no! they use the gold of the public treasury to teach it in their schools, for they think that all men should learn to prey upon one another in this way, deceiving and doing harm to one another with their tongues.’ ‘It seems to me, Socrates,’ said Lysis, ‘that these people spend their energies in many strange and doubtful ways.’ ‘They do, indeed,’ I assented. ‘And they have so much energy,’ said Agathon. ‘It is stupendous,’ I said. ‘When I went to Niagara Falls an American said it made him sad that so much power was going to waste that might be made productive. And I replied that I felt in that manner about the vast energies of the people, for if they could be harnessed to the problems of philosophy much knowledge might result. For if we could have the energy pure without any of the American nature fixing its character, armed with so powerful a tool we could clear up many doubtful speculations. But he seemed to think I wanted everybody to busy themselves with serious questions, though the thoughts of such people would, of course, be useless, and he recommended me to take my proposition to an editor of a magazine, for he said that he “had a hunch philosophy might catch on, seeing the success of those other word-puzzle crazes.”’ ‘It was lucky for him, Socrates,’ exclaimed Lysis ‘that you are so patient with fools. Did you reason with him?’ ‘I attempted it,’ I replied. ‘But he said he had no time to reason and that if he once began he would never “make good.” And in that, at least, I agreed with him.’