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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/1636-h.zip b/1636-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6795259 --- /dev/null +++ b/1636-h.zip diff --git a/1636-h/1636-h.htm b/1636-h/1636-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5dbcf1f --- /dev/null +++ b/1636-h/1636-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4638 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Phaedrus, by Plato + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Phaedrus, by Plato + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Phaedrus + +Author: Plato + +Translator: B. Jowett + +Release Date: October 30, 2008 [EBook #1636] +Last Updated: January 15, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHAEDRUS *** + + + + +Produced by Sue Asscher, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + PHAEDRUS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Plato + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + Translated by Benjamin Jowett + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + Contents + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_INTR"> INTRODUCTION. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> PHAEDRUS </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + INTRODUCTION. + </h2> + <p> + The Phaedrus is closely connected with the Symposium, and may be regarded + either as introducing or following it. The two Dialogues together contain + the whole philosophy of Plato on the nature of love, which in the Republic + and in the later writings of Plato is only introduced playfully or as a + figure of speech. But in the Phaedrus and Symposium love and philosophy + join hands, and one is an aspect of the other. The spiritual and emotional + part is elevated into the ideal, to which in the Symposium mankind are + described as looking forward, and which in the Phaedrus, as well as in the + Phaedo, they are seeking to recover from a former state of existence. + Whether the subject of the Dialogue is love or rhetoric, or the union of + the two, or the relation of philosophy to love and to art in general, and + to the human soul, will be hereafter considered. And perhaps we may arrive + at some conclusion such as the following—that the dialogue is not + strictly confined to a single subject, but passes from one to another with + the natural freedom of conversation. + </p> + <p> + Phaedrus has been spending the morning with Lysias, the celebrated + rhetorician, and is going to refresh himself by taking a walk outside the + wall, when he is met by Socrates, who professes that he will not leave him + until he has delivered up the speech with which Lysias has regaled him, + and which he is carrying about in his mind, or more probably in a book + hidden under his cloak, and is intending to study as he walks. The + imputation is not denied, and the two agree to direct their steps out of + the public way along the stream of the Ilissus towards a plane-tree which + is seen in the distance. There, lying down amidst pleasant sounds and + scents, they will read the speech of Lysias. The country is a novelty to + Socrates, who never goes out of the town; and hence he is full of + admiration for the beauties of nature, which he seems to be drinking in + for the first time. + </p> + <p> + As they are on their way, Phaedrus asks the opinion of Socrates respecting + the local tradition of Boreas and Oreithyia. Socrates, after a satirical + allusion to the 'rationalizers' of his day, replies that he has no time + for these 'nice' interpretations of mythology, and he pities anyone who + has. When you once begin there is no end of them, and they spring from an + uncritical philosophy after all. 'The proper study of mankind is man;' and + he is a far more complex and wonderful being than the serpent Typho. + Socrates as yet does not know himself; and why should he care to know + about unearthly monsters? Engaged in such conversation, they arrive at the + plane-tree; when they have found a convenient resting-place, Phaedrus + pulls out the speech and reads:— + </p> + <p> + The speech consists of a foolish paradox which is to the effect that the + non-lover ought to be accepted rather than the lover—because he is + more rational, more agreeable, more enduring, less suspicious, less + hurtful, less boastful, less engrossing, and because there are more of + them, and for a great many other reasons which are equally unmeaning. + Phaedrus is captivated with the beauty of the periods, and wants to make + Socrates say that nothing was or ever could be written better. Socrates + does not think much of the matter, but then he has only attended to the + form, and in that he has detected several repetitions and other marks of + haste. He cannot agree with Phaedrus in the extreme value which he sets + upon this performance, because he is afraid of doing injustice to Anacreon + and Sappho and other great writers, and is almost inclined to think that + he himself, or rather some power residing within him, could make a speech + better than that of Lysias on the same theme, and also different from his, + if he may be allowed the use of a few commonplaces which all speakers must + equally employ. + </p> + <p> + Phaedrus is delighted at the prospect of having another speech, and + promises that he will set up a golden statue of Socrates at Delphi, if he + keeps his word. Some raillery ensues, and at length Socrates, conquered by + the threat that he shall never again hear a speech of Lysias unless he + fulfils his promise, veils his face and begins. + </p> + <p> + First, invoking the Muses and assuming ironically the person of the + non-lover (who is a lover all the same), he will enquire into the nature + and power of love. For this is a necessary preliminary to the other + question—How is the non-lover to be distinguished from the lover? In + all of us there are two principles—a better and a worse—reason + and desire, which are generally at war with one another; and the victory + of the rational is called temperance, and the victory of the irrational + intemperance or excess. The latter takes many forms and has many bad names—gluttony, + drunkenness, and the like. But of all the irrational desires or excesses + the greatest is that which is led away by desires of a kindred nature to + the enjoyment of personal beauty. And this is the master power of love. + </p> + <p> + Here Socrates fancies that he detects in himself an unusual flow of + eloquence—this newly-found gift he can only attribute to the + inspiration of the place, which appears to be dedicated to the nymphs. + Starting again from the philosophical basis which has been laid down, he + proceeds to show how many advantages the non-lover has over the lover. The + one encourages softness and effeminacy and exclusiveness; he cannot endure + any superiority in his beloved; he will train him in luxury, he will keep + him out of society, he will deprive him of parents, friends, money, + knowledge, and of every other good, that he may have him all to himself. + Then again his ways are not ways of pleasantness; he is mighty + disagreeable; 'crabbed age and youth cannot live together.' At every hour + of the night and day he is intruding upon him; there is the same old + withered face and the remainder to match—and he is always repeating, + in season or out of season, the praises or dispraises of his beloved, + which are bad enough when he is sober, and published all over the world + when he is drunk. At length his love ceases; he is converted into an + enemy, and the spectacle may be seen of the lover running away from the + beloved, who pursues him with vain reproaches, and demands his reward + which the other refuses to pay. Too late the beloved learns, after all his + pains and disagreeables, that 'As wolves love lambs so lovers love their + loves.' (Compare Char.) Here is the end; the 'other' or 'non-lover' part + of the speech had better be understood, for if in the censure of the lover + Socrates has broken out in verse, what will he not do in his praise of the + non-lover? He has said his say and is preparing to go away. + </p> + <p> + Phaedrus begs him to remain, at any rate until the heat of noon has + passed; he would like to have a little more conversation before they go. + Socrates, who has risen, recognizes the oracular sign which forbids him to + depart until he has done penance. His conscious has been awakened, and + like Stesichorus when he had reviled the lovely Helen he will sing a + palinode for having blasphemed the majesty of love. His palinode takes the + form of a myth. + </p> + <p> + Socrates begins his tale with a glorification of madness, which he divides + into four kinds: first, there is the art of divination or prophecy—this, + in a vein similar to that pervading the Cratylus and Io, he connects with + madness by an etymological explanation (mantike, manike—compare + oionoistike, oionistike, ''tis all one reckoning, save the phrase is a + little variations'); secondly, there is the art of purification by + mysteries; thirdly, poetry or the inspiration of the Muses (compare Ion), + without which no man can enter their temple. All this shows that madness + is one of heaven's blessings, and may sometimes be a great deal better + than sense. There is also a fourth kind of madness—that of love—which + cannot be explained without enquiring into the nature of the soul. + </p> + <p> + All soul is immortal, for she is the source of all motion both in herself + and in others. Her form may be described in a figure as a composite nature + made up of a charioteer and a pair of winged steeds. The steeds of the + gods are immortal, but ours are one mortal and the other immortal. The + immortal soul soars upwards into the heavens, but the mortal drops her + plumes and settles upon the earth. + </p> + <p> + Now the use of the wing is to rise and carry the downward element into the + upper world—there to behold beauty, wisdom, goodness, and the other + things of God by which the soul is nourished. On a certain day Zeus the + lord of heaven goes forth in a winged chariot; and an array of gods and + demi-gods and of human souls in their train, follows him. There are + glorious and blessed sights in the interior of heaven, and he who will may + freely behold them. The great vision of all is seen at the feast of the + gods, when they ascend the heights of the empyrean—all but Hestia, + who is left at home to keep house. The chariots of the gods glide readily + upwards and stand upon the outside; the revolution of the spheres carries + them round, and they have a vision of the world beyond. But the others + labour in vain; for the mortal steed, if he has not been properly trained, + keeps them down and sinks them towards the earth. Of the world which is + beyond the heavens, who can tell? There is an essence formless, + colourless, intangible, perceived by the mind only, dwelling in the region + of true knowledge. The divine mind in her revolution enjoys this fair + prospect, and beholds justice, temperance, and knowledge in their + everlasting essence. When fulfilled with the sight of them she returns + home, and the charioteer puts up the horses in their stable, and gives + them ambrosia to eat and nectar to drink. This is the life of the gods; + the human soul tries to reach the same heights, but hardly succeeds; and + sometimes the head of the charioteer rises above, and sometimes sinks + below, the fair vision, and he is at last obliged, after much contention, + to turn away and leave the plain of truth. But if the soul has followed in + the train of her god and once beheld truth she is preserved from harm, and + is carried round in the next revolution of the spheres; and if always + following, and always seeing the truth, is then for ever unharmed. If, + however, she drops her wings and falls to the earth, then she takes the + form of man, and the soul which has seen most of the truth passes into a + philosopher or lover; that which has seen truth in the second degree, into + a king or warrior; the third, into a householder or money-maker; the + fourth, into a gymnast; the fifth, into a prophet or mystic; the sixth, + into a poet or imitator; the seventh, into a husbandman or craftsman; the + eighth, into a sophist or demagogue; the ninth, into a tyrant. All these + are states of probation, wherein he who lives righteously is improved, and + he who lives unrighteously deteriorates. After death comes the judgment; + the bad depart to houses of correction under the earth, the good to places + of joy in heaven. When a thousand years have elapsed the souls meet + together and choose the lives which they will lead for another period of + existence. The soul which three times in succession has chosen the life of + a philosopher or of a lover who is not without philosophy receives her + wings at the close of the third millennium; the remainder have to complete + a cycle of ten thousand years before their wings are restored to them. + Each time there is full liberty of choice. The soul of a man may descend + into a beast, and return again into the form of man. But the form of man + will only be taken by the soul which has once seen truth and acquired some + conception of the universal:—this is the recollection of the + knowledge which she attained when in the company of the Gods. And men in + general recall only with difficulty the things of another world, but the + mind of the philosopher has a better remembrance of them. For when he + beholds the visible beauty of earth his enraptured soul passes in thought + to those glorious sights of justice and wisdom and temperance and truth + which she once gazed upon in heaven. Then she celebrated holy mysteries + and beheld blessed apparitions shining in pure light, herself pure, and + not as yet entombed in the body. And still, like a bird eager to quit its + cage, she flutters and looks upwards, and is therefore deemed mad. Such a + recollection of past days she receives through sight, the keenest of our + senses, because beauty, alone of the ideas, has any representation on + earth: wisdom is invisible to mortal eyes. But the corrupted nature, + blindly excited by this vision of beauty, rushes on to enjoy, and would + fain wallow like a brute beast in sensual pleasures. Whereas the true + mystic, who has seen the many sights of bliss, when he beholds a god-like + form or face is amazed with delight, and if he were not afraid of being + thought mad he would fall down and worship. Then the stiffened wing begins + to relax and grow again; desire which has been imprisoned pours over the + soul of the lover; the germ of the wing unfolds, and stings, and pangs of + birth, like the cutting of teeth, are everywhere felt. (Compare Symp.) + Father and mother, and goods and laws and proprieties are nothing to him; + his beloved is his physician, who can alone cure his pain. An apocryphal + sacred writer says that the power which thus works in him is by mortals + called love, but the immortals call him dove, or the winged one, in order + to represent the force of his wings—such at any rate is his nature. + Now the characters of lovers depend upon the god whom they followed in the + other world; and they choose their loves in this world accordingly. The + followers of Ares are fierce and violent; those of Zeus seek out some + philosophical and imperial nature; the attendants of Here find a royal + love; and in like manner the followers of every god seek a love who is + like their god; and to him they communicate the nature which they have + received from their god. The manner in which they take their love is as + follows:— + </p> + <p> + I told you about the charioteer and his two steeds, the one a noble animal + who is guided by word and admonition only, the other an ill-looking + villain who will hardly yield to blow or spur. Together all three, who are + a figure of the soul, approach the vision of love. And now a fierce + conflict begins. The ill-conditioned steed rushes on to enjoy, but the + charioteer, who beholds the beloved with awe, falls back in adoration, and + forces both the steeds on their haunches; again the evil steed rushes + forwards and pulls shamelessly. The conflict grows more and more severe; + and at last the charioteer, throwing himself backwards, forces the bit out + of the clenched teeth of the brute, and pulling harder than ever at the + reins, covers his tongue and jaws with blood, and forces him to rest his + legs and haunches with pain upon the ground. When this has happened + several times, the villain is tamed and humbled, and from that time + forward the soul of the lover follows the beloved in modesty and holy + fear. And now their bliss is consummated; the same image of love dwells in + the breast of either, and if they have self-control, they pass their lives + in the greatest happiness which is attainable by man—they continue + masters of themselves, and conquer in one of the three heavenly victories. + But if they choose the lower life of ambition they may still have a happy + destiny, though inferior, because they have not the approval of the whole + soul. At last they leave the body and proceed on their pilgrim's progress, + and those who have once begun can never go back. When the time comes they + receive their wings and fly away, and the lovers have the same wings. + </p> + <p> + Socrates concludes:— + </p> + <p> + These are the blessings of love, and thus have I made my recantation in + finer language than before: I did so in order to please Phaedrus. If I + said what was wrong at first, please to attribute my error to Lysias, who + ought to study philosophy instead of rhetoric, and then he will not + mislead his disciple Phaedrus. + </p> + <p> + Phaedrus is afraid that he will lose conceit of Lysias, and that Lysias + will be out of conceit with himself, and leave off making speeches, for + the politicians have been deriding him. Socrates is of opinion that there + is small danger of this; the politicians are themselves the great + rhetoricians of the age, who desire to attain immortality by the + authorship of laws. And therefore there is nothing with which they can + reproach Lysias in being a writer; but there may be disgrace in being a + bad one. + </p> + <p> + And what is good or bad writing or speaking? While the sun is hot in the + sky above us, let us ask that question: since by rational conversation man + lives, and not by the indulgence of bodily pleasures. And the grasshoppers + who are chirruping around may carry our words to the Muses, who are their + patronesses; for the grasshoppers were human beings themselves in a world + before the Muses, and when the Muses came they died of hunger for the love + of song. And they carry to them in heaven the report of those who honour + them on earth. + </p> + <p> + The first rule of good speaking is to know and speak the truth; as a + Spartan proverb says, 'true art is truth'; whereas rhetoric is an art of + enchantment, which makes things appear good and evil, like and unlike, as + the speaker pleases. Its use is not confined, as people commonly suppose, + to arguments in the law courts and speeches in the assembly; it is rather + a part of the art of disputation, under which are included both the rules + of Gorgias and the eristic of Zeno. But it is not wholly devoid of truth. + Superior knowledge enables us to deceive another by the help of + resemblances, and to escape from such a deception when employed against + ourselves. We see therefore that even in rhetoric an element of truth is + required. For if we do not know the truth, we can neither make the gradual + departures from truth by which men are most easily deceived, nor guard + ourselves against deception. + </p> + <p> + Socrates then proposes that they shall use the two speeches as + illustrations of the art of rhetoric; first distinguishing between the + debatable and undisputed class of subjects. In the debatable class there + ought to be a definition of all disputed matters. But there was no such + definition in the speech of Lysias; nor is there any order or connection + in his words any more than in a nursery rhyme. With this he compares the + regular divisions of the other speech, which was his own (and yet not his + own, for the local deities must have inspired him). Although only a + playful composition, it will be found to embody two principles: first, + that of synthesis or the comprehension of parts in a whole; secondly, + analysis, or the resolution of the whole into parts. These are the + processes of division and generalization which are so dear to the + dialectician, that king of men. They are effected by dialectic, and not by + rhetoric, of which the remains are but scanty after order and arrangement + have been subtracted. There is nothing left but a heap of 'ologies' and + other technical terms invented by Polus, Theodorus, Evenus, Tisias, + Gorgias, and others, who have rules for everything, and who teach how to + be short or long at pleasure. Prodicus showed his good sense when he said + that there was a better thing than either to be short or long, which was + to be of convenient length. + </p> + <p> + Still, notwithstanding the absurdities of Polus and others, rhetoric has + great power in public assemblies. This power, however, is not given by any + technical rules, but is the gift of genius. The real art is always being + confused by rhetoricians with the preliminaries of the art. The perfection + of oratory is like the perfection of anything else; natural power must be + aided by art. But the art is not that which is taught in the schools of + rhetoric; it is nearer akin to philosophy. Pericles, for instance, who was + the most accomplished of all speakers, derived his eloquence not from + rhetoric but from the philosophy of nature which he learnt of Anaxagoras. + True rhetoric is like medicine, and the rhetorician has to consider the + natures of men's souls as the physician considers the natures of their + bodies. Such and such persons are to be affected in this way, such and + such others in that; and he must know the times and the seasons for saying + this or that. This is not an easy task, and this, if there be such an art, + is the art of rhetoric. + </p> + <p> + I know that there are some professors of the art who maintain probability + to be stronger than truth. But we maintain that probability is engendered + by likeness of the truth which can only be attained by the knowledge of + it, and that the aim of the good man should not be to please or persuade + his fellow-servants, but to please his good masters who are the gods. + Rhetoric has a fair beginning in this. + </p> + <p> + Enough of the art of speaking; let us now proceed to consider the true use + of writing. There is an old Egyptian tale of Theuth, the inventor of + writing, showing his invention to the god Thamus, who told him that he + would only spoil men's memories and take away their understandings. From + this tale, of which young Athens will probably make fun, may be gathered + the lesson that writing is inferior to speech. For it is like a picture, + which can give no answer to a question, and has only a deceitful likeness + of a living creature. It has no power of adaptation, but uses the same + words for all. It is not a legitimate son of knowledge, but a bastard, and + when an attack is made upon this bastard neither parent nor anyone else is + there to defend it. The husbandman will not seriously incline to sow his + seed in such a hot-bed or garden of Adonis; he will rather sow in the + natural soil of the human soul which has depth of earth; and he will + anticipate the inner growth of the mind, by writing only, if at all, as a + remedy against old age. The natural process will be far nobler, and will + bring forth fruit in the minds of others as well as in his own. + </p> + <p> + The conclusion of the whole matter is just this,—that until a man + knows the truth, and the manner of adapting the truth to the natures of + other men, he cannot be a good orator; also, that the living is better + than the written word, and that the principles of justice and truth when + delivered by word of mouth are the legitimate offspring of a man's own + bosom, and their lawful descendants take up their abode in others. Such an + orator as he is who is possessed of them, you and I would fain become. And + to all composers in the world, poets, orators, legislators, we hereby + announce that if their compositions are based upon these principles, then + they are not only poets, orators, legislators, but philosophers. All + others are mere flatterers and putters together of words. This is the + message which Phaedrus undertakes to carry to Lysias from the local + deities, and Socrates himself will carry a similar message to his + favourite Isocrates, whose future distinction as a great rhetorician he + prophesies. The heat of the day has passed, and after offering up a prayer + to Pan and the nymphs, Socrates and Phaedrus depart. + </p> + <p> + There are two principal controversies which have been raised about the + Phaedrus; the first relates to the subject, the second to the date of the + Dialogue. + </p> + <p> + There seems to be a notion that the work of a great artist like Plato + cannot fail in unity, and that the unity of a dialogue requires a single + subject. But the conception of unity really applies in very different + degrees and ways to different kinds of art; to a statue, for example, far + more than to any kind of literary composition, and to some species of + literature far more than to others. Nor does the dialogue appear to be a + style of composition in which the requirement of unity is most stringent; + nor should the idea of unity derived from one sort of art be hastily + transferred to another. The double titles of several of the Platonic + Dialogues are a further proof that the severer rule was not observed by + Plato. The Republic is divided between the search after justice and the + construction of the ideal state; the Parmenides between the criticism of + the Platonic ideas and of the Eleatic one or being; the Gorgias between + the art of speaking and the nature of the good; the Sophist between the + detection of the Sophist and the correlation of ideas. The Theaetetus, the + Politicus, and the Philebus have also digressions which are but remotely + connected with the main subject. + </p> + <p> + Thus the comparison of Plato's other writings, as well as the reason of + the thing, lead us to the conclusion that we must not expect to find one + idea pervading a whole work, but one, two, or more, as the invention of + the writer may suggest, or his fancy wander. If each dialogue were + confined to the development of a single idea, this would appear on the + face of the dialogue, nor could any controversy be raised as to whether + the Phaedrus treated of love or rhetoric. But the truth is that Plato + subjects himself to no rule of this sort. Like every great artist he gives + unity of form to the different and apparently distracting topics which he + brings together. He works freely and is not to be supposed to have + arranged every part of the dialogue before he begins to write. He fastens + or weaves together the frame of his discourse loosely and imperfectly, and + which is the warp and which is the woof cannot always be determined. + </p> + <p> + The subjects of the Phaedrus (exclusive of the short introductory passage + about mythology which is suggested by the local tradition) are first the + false or conventional art of rhetoric; secondly, love or the inspiration + of beauty and knowledge, which is described as madness; thirdly, dialectic + or the art of composition and division; fourthly, the true rhetoric, which + is based upon dialectic, and is neither the art of persuasion nor + knowledge of the truth alone, but the art of persuasion founded on + knowledge of truth and knowledge of character; fifthly, the superiority of + the spoken over the written word. The continuous thread which appears and + reappears throughout is rhetoric; this is the ground into which the rest + of the Dialogue is worked, in parts embroidered with fine words which are + not in Socrates' manner, as he says, 'in order to please Phaedrus.' The + speech of Lysias which has thrown Phaedrus into an ecstacy is adduced as + an example of the false rhetoric; the first speech of Socrates, though an + improvement, partakes of the same character; his second speech, which is + full of that higher element said to have been learned of Anaxagoras by + Pericles, and which in the midst of poetry does not forget order, is an + illustration of the higher or true rhetoric. This higher rhetoric is based + upon dialectic, and dialectic is a sort of inspiration akin to love + (compare Symp.); in these two aspects of philosophy the technicalities of + rhetoric are absorbed. And so the example becomes also the deeper theme of + discourse. The true knowledge of things in heaven and earth is based upon + enthusiasm or love of the ideas going before us and ever present to us in + this world and in another; and the true order of speech or writing + proceeds accordingly. Love, again, has three degrees: first, of interested + love corresponding to the conventionalities of rhetoric; secondly, of + disinterested or mad love, fixed on objects of sense, and answering, + perhaps, to poetry; thirdly, of disinterested love directed towards the + unseen, answering to dialectic or the science of the ideas. Lastly, the + art of rhetoric in the lower sense is found to rest on a knowledge of the + natures and characters of men, which Socrates at the commencement of the + Dialogue has described as his own peculiar study. + </p> + <p> + Thus amid discord a harmony begins to appear; there are many links of + connection which are not visible at first sight. At the same time the + Phaedrus, although one of the most beautiful of the Platonic Dialogues, is + also more irregular than any other. For insight into the world, for + sustained irony, for depth of thought, there is no Dialogue superior, or + perhaps equal to it. Nevertheless the form of the work has tended to + obscure some of Plato's higher aims. + </p> + <p> + The first speech is composed 'in that balanced style in which the wise + love to talk' (Symp.). The characteristics of rhetoric are insipidity, + mannerism, and monotonous parallelism of clauses. There is more rhythm + than reason; the creative power of imagination is wanting. + </p> + <p> + ''Tis Greece, but living Greece no more.' + </p> + <p> + Plato has seized by anticipation the spirit which hung over Greek + literature for a thousand years afterwards. Yet doubtless there were some + who, like Phaedrus, felt a delight in the harmonious cadence and the + pedantic reasoning of the rhetoricians newly imported from Sicily, which + had ceased to be awakened in them by really great works, such as the odes + of Anacreon or Sappho or the orations of Pericles. That the first speech + was really written by Lysias is improbable. Like the poem of Solon, or the + story of Thamus and Theuth, or the funeral oration of Aspasia (if + genuine), or the pretence of Socrates in the Cratylus that his knowledge + of philology is derived from Euthyphro, the invention is really due to the + imagination of Plato, and may be compared to the parodies of the Sophists + in the Protagoras. Numerous fictions of this sort occur in the Dialogues, + and the gravity of Plato has sometimes imposed upon his commentators. The + introduction of a considerable writing of another would seem not to be in + keeping with a great work of art, and has no parallel elsewhere. + </p> + <p> + In the second speech Socrates is exhibited as beating the rhetoricians at + their own weapons; he 'an unpractised man and they masters of the art.' + True to his character, he must, however, profess that the speech which he + makes is not his own, for he knows nothing of himself. (Compare Symp.) + Regarded as a rhetorical exercise, the superiority of his speech seems to + consist chiefly in a better arrangement of the topics; he begins with a + definition of love, and he gives weight to his words by going back to + general maxims; a lesser merit is the greater liveliness of Socrates, + which hurries him into verse and relieves the monotony of the style. + </p> + <p> + But Plato had doubtless a higher purpose than to exhibit Socrates as the + rival or superior of the Athenian rhetoricians. Even in the speech of + Lysias there is a germ of truth, and this is further developed in the + parallel oration of Socrates. First, passionate love is overthrown by the + sophistical or interested, and then both yield to that higher view of love + which is afterwards revealed to us. The extreme of commonplace is + contrasted with the most ideal and imaginative of speculations. Socrates, + half in jest and to satisfy his own wild humour, takes the disguise of + Lysias, but he is also in profound earnest and in a deeper vein of irony + than usual. Having improvised his own speech, which is based upon the + model of the preceding, he condemns them both. Yet the condemnation is not + to be taken seriously, for he is evidently trying to express an aspect of + the truth. To understand him, we must make abstraction of morality and of + the Greek manner of regarding the relation of the sexes. In this, as in + his other discussions about love, what Plato says of the loves of men must + be transferred to the loves of women before we can attach any serious + meaning to his words. Had he lived in our times he would have made the + transposition himself. But seeing in his own age the impossibility of + woman being the intellectual helpmate or friend of man (except in the rare + instances of a Diotima or an Aspasia), seeing that, even as to personal + beauty, her place was taken by young mankind instead of womankind, he + tries to work out the problem of love without regard to the distinctions + of nature. And full of the evils which he recognized as flowing from the + spurious form of love, he proceeds with a deep meaning, though partly in + joke, to show that the 'non-lover's' love is better than the 'lover's.' + </p> + <p> + We may raise the same question in another form: Is marriage preferable + with or without love? 'Among ourselves,' as we may say, a little parodying + the words of Pausanias in the Symposium, 'there would be one answer to + this question: the practice and feeling of some foreign countries appears + to be more doubtful.' Suppose a modern Socrates, in defiance of the + received notions of society and the sentimental literature of the day, + alone against all the writers and readers of novels, to suggest this + enquiry, would not the younger 'part of the world be ready to take off its + coat and run at him might and main?' (Republic.) Yet, if like + Peisthetaerus in Aristophanes, he could persuade the 'birds' to hear him, + retiring a little behind a rampart, not of pots and dishes, but of + unreadable books, he might have something to say for himself. Might he not + argue, 'that a rational being should not follow the dictates of passion in + the most important act of his or her life'? Who would willingly enter into + a contract at first sight, almost without thought, against the advice and + opinion of his friends, at a time when he acknowledges that he is not in + his right mind? And yet they are praised by the authors of romances, who + reject the warnings of their friends or parents, rather than those who + listen to them in such matters. Two inexperienced persons, ignorant of the + world and of one another, how can they be said to choose?—they draw + lots, whence also the saying, 'marriage is a lottery.' Then he would + describe their way of life after marriage; how they monopolize one + another's affections to the exclusion of friends and relations: how they + pass their days in unmeaning fondness or trivial conversation; how the + inferior of the two drags the other down to his or her level; how the + cares of a family 'breed meanness in their souls.' In the fulfilment of + military or public duties, they are not helpers but hinderers of one + another: they cannot undertake any noble enterprise, such as makes the + names of men and women famous, from domestic considerations. Too late + their eyes are opened; they were taken unawares and desire to part + company. Better, he would say, a 'little love at the beginning,' for + heaven might have increased it; but now their foolish fondness has changed + into mutual dislike. In the days of their honeymoon they never understood + that they must provide against offences, that they must have interests, + that they must learn the art of living as well as loving. Our misogamist + will not appeal to Anacreon or Sappho for a confirmation of his view, but + to the universal experience of mankind. How much nobler, in conclusion, he + will say, is friendship, which does not receive unmeaning praises from + novelists and poets, is not exacting or exclusive, is not impaired by + familiarity, is much less expensive, is not so likely to take offence, + seldom changes, and may be dissolved from time to time without the + assistance of the courts. Besides, he will remark that there is a much + greater choice of friends than of wives—you may have more of them + and they will be far more improving to your mind. They will not keep you + dawdling at home, or dancing attendance upon them; or withdraw you from + the great world and stirring scenes of life and action which would make a + man of you. + </p> + <p> + In such a manner, turning the seamy side outwards, a modern Socrates might + describe the evils of married and domestic life. They are evils which + mankind in general have agreed to conceal, partly because they are + compensated by greater goods. Socrates or Archilochus would soon have to + sing a palinode for the injustice done to lovely Helen, or some misfortune + worse than blindness might be fall them. Then they would take up their + parable again and say:—that there were two loves, a higher and a + lower, holy and unholy, a love of the mind and a love of the body. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'Let me not to the marriage of true minds + Admit impediments. Love is not love + Which alters when it alteration finds. + + ..... + + Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks + Within his bending sickle's compass come; + Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, + But bears it out even to the edge of doom.' +</pre> + <p> + But this true love of the mind cannot exist between two souls, until they + are purified from the grossness of earthly passion: they must pass through + a time of trial and conflict first; in the language of religion they must + be converted or born again. Then they would see the world transformed into + a scene of heavenly beauty; a divine idea would accompany them in all + their thoughts and actions. Something too of the recollections of + childhood might float about them still; they might regain that old + simplicity which had been theirs in other days at their first entrance on + life. And although their love of one another was ever present to them, + they would acknowledge also a higher love of duty and of God, which united + them. And their happiness would depend upon their preserving in them this + principle—not losing the ideals of justice and holiness and truth, + but renewing them at the fountain of light. When they have attained to + this exalted state, let them marry (something too may be conceded to the + animal nature of man): or live together in holy and innocent friendship. + The poet might describe in eloquent words the nature of such a union; how + after many struggles the true love was found: how the two passed their + lives together in the service of God and man; how their characters were + reflected upon one another, and seemed to grow more like year by year; how + they read in one another's eyes the thoughts, wishes, actions of the + other; how they saw each other in God; how in a figure they grew wings + like doves, and were 'ready to fly away together and be at rest.' And + lastly, he might tell how, after a time at no long intervals, first one + and then the other fell asleep, and 'appeared to the unwise' to die, but + were reunited in another state of being, in which they saw justice and + holiness and truth, not according to the imperfect copies of them which + are found in this world, but justice absolute in existence absolute, and + so of the rest. And they would hold converse not only with each other, but + with blessed souls everywhere; and would be employed in the service of + God, every soul fulfilling his own nature and character, and would see + into the wonders of earth and heaven, and trace the works of creation to + their author. + </p> + <p> + So, partly in jest but also 'with a certain degree of seriousness,' we may + appropriate to ourselves the words of Plato. The use of such a parody, + though very imperfect, is to transfer his thoughts to our sphere of + religion and feeling, to bring him nearer to us and us to him. Like the + Scriptures, Plato admits of endless applications, if we allow for the + difference of times and manners; and we lose the better half of him when + we regard his Dialogues merely as literary compositions. Any ancient work + which is worth reading has a practical and speculative as well as a + literary interest. And in Plato, more than in any other Greek writer, the + local and transitory is inextricably blended with what is spiritual and + eternal. Socrates is necessarily ironical; for he has to withdraw from the + received opinions and beliefs of mankind. We cannot separate the + transitory from the permanent; nor can we translate the language of irony + into that of plain reflection and common sense. But we can imagine the + mind of Socrates in another age and country; and we can interpret him by + analogy with reference to the errors and prejudices which prevail among + ourselves. To return to the Phaedrus:— + </p> + <p> + Both speeches are strongly condemned by Socrates as sinful and blasphemous + towards the god Love, and as worthy only of some haunt of sailors to which + good manners were unknown. The meaning of this and other wild language to + the same effect, which is introduced by way of contrast to the formality + of the two speeches (Socrates has a sense of relief when he has escaped + from the trammels of rhetoric), seems to be that the two speeches proceed + upon the supposition that love is and ought to be interested, and that no + such thing as a real or disinterested passion, which would be at the same + time lasting, could be conceived. 'But did I call this "love"? O God, + forgive my blasphemy. This is not love. Rather it is the love of the + world. But there is another kingdom of love, a kingdom not of this world, + divine, eternal. And this other love I will now show you in a mystery.' + </p> + <p> + Then follows the famous myth, which is a sort of parable, and like other + parables ought not to receive too minute an interpretation. In all such + allegories there is a great deal which is merely ornamental, and the + interpreter has to separate the important from the unimportant. Socrates + himself has given the right clue when, in using his own discourse + afterwards as the text for his examination of rhetoric, he characterizes + it as a 'partly true and tolerably credible mythus,' in which amid + poetical figures, order and arrangement were not forgotten. + </p> + <p> + The soul is described in magnificent language as the self-moved and the + source of motion in all other things. This is the philosophical theme or + proem of the whole. But ideas must be given through something, and under + the pretext that to realize the true nature of the soul would be not only + tedious but impossible, we at once pass on to describe the souls of gods + as well as men under the figure of two winged steeds and a charioteer. No + connection is traced between the soul as the great motive power and the + triple soul which is thus imaged. There is no difficulty in seeing that + the charioteer represents the reason, or that the black horse is the + symbol of the sensual or concupiscent element of human nature. The white + horse also represents rational impulse, but the description, 'a lover of + honour and modesty and temperance, and a follower of true glory,' though + similar, does not at once recall the 'spirit' (thumos) of the Republic. + The two steeds really correspond in a figure more nearly to the appetitive + and moral or semi-rational soul of Aristotle. And thus, for the first time + perhaps in the history of philosophy, we have represented to us the + threefold division of psychology. The image of the charioteer and the + steeds has been compared with a similar image which occurs in the verses + of Parmenides; but it is important to remark that the horses of Parmenides + have no allegorical meaning, and that the poet is only describing his own + approach in a chariot to the regions of light and the house of the goddess + of truth. + </p> + <p> + The triple soul has had a previous existence, in which following in the + train of some god, from whom she derived her character, she beheld + partially and imperfectly the vision of absolute truth. All her after + existence, passed in many forms of men and animals, is spent in regaining + this. The stages of the conflict are many and various; and she is sorely + let and hindered by the animal desires of the inferior or concupiscent + steed. Again and again she beholds the flashing beauty of the beloved. But + before that vision can be finally enjoyed the animal desires must be + subjected. + </p> + <p> + The moral or spiritual element in man is represented by the immortal steed + which, like thumos in the Republic, always sides with the reason. Both are + dragged out of their course by the furious impulses of desire. In the end + something is conceded to the desires, after they have been finally humbled + and overpowered. And yet the way of philosophy, or perfect love of the + unseen, is total abstinence from bodily delights. 'But all men cannot + receive this saying': in the lower life of ambition they may be taken off + their guard and stoop to folly unawares, and then, although they do not + attain to the highest bliss, yet if they have once conquered they may be + happy enough. + </p> + <p> + The language of the Meno and the Phaedo as well as of the Phaedrus seems + to show that at one time of his life Plato was quite serious in + maintaining a former state of existence. His mission was to realize the + abstract; in that, all good and truth, all the hopes of this and another + life seemed to centre. To him abstractions, as we call them, were another + kind of knowledge—an inner and unseen world, which seemed to exist + far more truly than the fleeting objects of sense which were without him. + When we are once able to imagine the intense power which abstract ideas + exercised over the mind of Plato, we see that there was no more difficulty + to him in realizing the eternal existence of them and of the human minds + which were associated with them, in the past and future than in the + present. The difficulty was not how they could exist, but how they could + fail to exist. In the attempt to regain this 'saving' knowledge of the + ideas, the sense was found to be as great an enemy as the desires; and + hence two things which to us seem quite distinct are inextricably blended + in the representation of Plato. + </p> + <p> + Thus far we may believe that Plato was serious in his conception of the + soul as a motive power, in his reminiscence of a former state of being, in + his elevation of the reason over sense and passion, and perhaps in his + doctrine of transmigration. Was he equally serious in the rest? For + example, are we to attribute his tripartite division of the soul to the + gods? Or is this merely assigned to them by way of parallelism with men? + The latter is the more probable; for the horses of the gods are both + white, i.e. their every impulse is in harmony with reason; their dualism, + on the other hand, only carries out the figure of the chariot. Is he + serious, again, in regarding love as 'a madness'? That seems to arise out + of the antithesis to the former conception of love. At the same time he + appears to intimate here, as in the Ion, Apology, Meno, and elsewhere, + that there is a faculty in man, whether to be termed in modern language + genius, or inspiration, or imagination, or idealism, or communion with + God, which cannot be reduced to rule and measure. Perhaps, too, he is + ironically repeating the common language of mankind about philosophy, and + is turning their jest into a sort of earnest. (Compare Phaedo, Symp.) Or + is he serious in holding that each soul bears the character of a god? He + may have had no other account to give of the differences of human + characters to which he afterwards refers. Or, again, in his absurd + derivation of mantike and oionistike and imeros (compare Cratylus)? It is + characteristic of the irony of Socrates to mix up sense and nonsense in + such a way that no exact line can be drawn between them. And allegory + helps to increase this sort of confusion. + </p> + <p> + As is often the case in the parables and prophecies of Scripture, the + meaning is allowed to break through the figure, and the details are not + always consistent. When the charioteers and their steeds stand upon the + dome of heaven they behold the intangible invisible essences which are not + objects of sight. This is because the force of language can no further go. + Nor can we dwell much on the circumstance, that at the completion of ten + thousand years all are to return to the place from whence they came; + because he represents their return as dependent on their own good conduct + in the successive stages of existence. Nor again can we attribute anything + to the accidental inference which would also follow, that even a tyrant + may live righteously in the condition of life to which fate has called him + ('he aiblins might, I dinna ken'). But to suppose this would be at + variance with Plato himself and with Greek notions generally. He is much + more serious in distinguishing men from animals by their recognition of + the universal which they have known in a former state, and in denying that + this gift of reason can ever be obliterated or lost. In the language of + some modern theologians he might be said to maintain the 'final + perseverance' of those who have entered on their pilgrim's progress. Other + intimations of a 'metaphysic' or 'theology' of the future may also be + discerned in him: (1) The moderate predestinarianism which here, as in the + Republic, acknowledges the element of chance in human life, and yet + asserts the freedom and responsibility of man; (2) The recognition of a + moral as well as an intellectual principle in man under the image of an + immortal steed; (3) The notion that the divine nature exists by the + contemplation of ideas of virtue and justice—or, in other words, the + assertion of the essentially moral nature of God; (4) Again, there is the + hint that human life is a life of aspiration only, and that the true ideal + is not to be found in art; (5) There occurs the first trace of the + distinction between necessary and contingent matter; (6) The conception of + the soul itself as the motive power and reason of the universe. + </p> + <p> + The conception of the philosopher, or the philosopher and lover in one, as + a sort of madman, may be compared with the Republic and Theaetetus, in + both of which the philosopher is regarded as a stranger and monster upon + the earth. The whole myth, like the other myths of Plato, describes in a + figure things which are beyond the range of human faculties, or + inaccessible to the knowledge of the age. That philosophy should be + represented as the inspiration of love is a conception that has already + become familiar to us in the Symposium, and is the expression partly of + Plato's enthusiasm for the idea, and is also an indication of the real + power exercised by the passion of friendship over the mind of the Greek. + The master in the art of love knew that there was a mystery in these + feelings and their associations, and especially in the contrast of the + sensible and permanent which is afforded by them; and he sought to explain + this, as he explained universal ideas, by a reference to a former state of + existence. The capriciousness of love is also derived by him from an + attachment to some god in a former world. The singular remark that the + beloved is more affected than the lover at the final consummation of their + love, seems likewise to hint at a psychological truth. + </p> + <p> + It is difficult to exhaust the meanings of a work like the Phaedrus, which + indicates so much more than it expresses; and is full of inconsistencies + and ambiguities which were not perceived by Plato himself. For example, + when he is speaking of the soul does he mean the human or the divine soul? + and are they both equally self-moving and constructed on the same + threefold principle? We should certainly be disposed to reply that the + self-motive is to be attributed to God only; and on the other hand that + the appetitive and passionate elements have no place in His nature. So we + should infer from the reason of the thing, but there is no indication in + Plato's own writings that this was his meaning. Or, again, when he + explains the different characters of men by referring them back to the + nature of the God whom they served in a former state of existence, we are + inclined to ask whether he is serious: Is he not rather using a + mythological figure, here as elsewhere, to draw a veil over things which + are beyond the limits of mortal knowledge? Once more, in speaking of + beauty is he really thinking of some external form such as might have been + expressed in the works of Phidias or Praxiteles; and not rather of an + imaginary beauty, of a sort which extinguishes rather than stimulates + vulgar love,—a heavenly beauty like that which flashed from time to + time before the eyes of Dante or Bunyan? Surely the latter. But it would + be idle to reconcile all the details of the passage: it is a picture, not + a system, and a picture which is for the greater part an allegory, and an + allegory which allows the meaning to come through. The image of the + charioteer and his steeds is placed side by side with the absolute forms + of justice, temperance, and the like, which are abstract ideas only, and + which are seen with the eye of the soul in her heavenly journey. The first + impression of such a passage, in which no attempt is made to separate the + substance from the form, is far truer than an elaborate philosophical + analysis. + </p> + <p> + It is too often forgotten that the whole of the second discourse of + Socrates is only an allegory, or figure of speech. For this reason, it is + unnecessary to enquire whether the love of which Plato speaks is the love + of men or of women. It is really a general idea which includes both, and + in which the sensual element, though not wholly eradicated, is reduced to + order and measure. We must not attribute a meaning to every fanciful + detail. Nor is there any need to call up revolting associations, which as + a matter of good taste should be banished, and which were far enough away + from the mind of Plato. These and similar passages should be interpreted + by the Laws. Nor is there anything in the Symposium, or in the Charmides, + in reality inconsistent with the sterner rule which Plato lays down in the + Laws. At the same time it is not to be denied that love and philosophy are + described by Socrates in figures of speech which would not be used in + Christian times; or that nameless vices were prevalent at Athens and in + other Greek cities; or that friendships between men were a more sacred + tie, and had a more important social and educational influence than among + ourselves. (See note on Symposium.) + </p> + <p> + In the Phaedrus, as well as in the Symposium, there are two kinds of love, + a lower and a higher, the one answering to the natural wants of the + animal, the other rising above them and contemplating with religious awe + the forms of justice, temperance, holiness, yet finding them also 'too + dazzling bright for mortal eye,' and shrinking from them in amazement. The + opposition between these two kinds of love may be compared to the + opposition between the flesh and the spirit in the Epistles of St. Paul. + It would be unmeaning to suppose that Plato, in describing the spiritual + combat, in which the rational soul is finally victor and master of both + the steeds, condescends to allow any indulgence of unnatural lusts. + </p> + <p> + Two other thoughts about love are suggested by this passage. First of all, + love is represented here, as in the Symposium, as one of the great powers + of nature, which takes many forms and two principal ones, having a + predominant influence over the lives of men. And these two, though + opposed, are not absolutely separated the one from the other. Plato, with + his great knowledge of human nature, was well aware how easily one is + transformed into the other, or how soon the noble but fleeting aspiration + may return into the nature of the animal, while the lower instinct which + is latent always remains. The intermediate sentimentalism, which has + exercised so great an influence on the literature of modern Europe, had no + place in the classical times of Hellas; the higher love, of which Plato + speaks, is the subject, not of poetry or fiction, but of philosophy. + </p> + <p> + Secondly, there seems to be indicated a natural yearning of the human mind + that the great ideas of justice, temperance, wisdom, should be expressed + in some form of visible beauty, like the absolute purity and goodness + which Christian art has sought to realize in the person of the Madonna. + But although human nature has often attempted to represent outwardly what + can be only 'spiritually discerned,' men feel that in pictures and images, + whether painted or carved, or described in words only, we have not the + substance but the shadow of the truth which is in heaven. There is no + reason to suppose that in the fairest works of Greek art, Plato ever + conceived himself to behold an image, however faint, of ideal truths. 'Not + in that way was wisdom seen.' + </p> + <p> + We may now pass on to the second part of the Dialogue, which is a + criticism on the first. Rhetoric is assailed on various grounds: first, as + desiring to persuade, without a knowledge of the truth; and secondly, as + ignoring the distinction between certain and probable matter. The three + speeches are then passed in review: the first of them has no definition of + the nature of love, and no order in the topics (being in these respects + far inferior to the second); while the third of them is found (though a + fancy of the hour) to be framed upon real dialectical principles. But + dialectic is not rhetoric; nothing on that subject is to be found in the + endless treatises of rhetoric, however prolific in hard names. When Plato + has sufficiently put them to the test of ridicule he touches, as with the + point of a needle, the real error, which is the confusion of preliminary + knowledge with creative power. No attainments will provide the speaker + with genius; and the sort of attainments which can alone be of any value + are the higher philosophy and the power of psychological analysis, which + is given by dialectic, but not by the rules of the rhetoricians. + </p> + <p> + In this latter portion of the Dialogue there are many texts which may help + us to speak and to think. The names dialectic and rhetoric are passing out + of use; we hardly examine seriously into their nature and limits, and + probably the arts both of speaking and of conversation have been unduly + neglected by us. But the mind of Socrates pierces through the differences + of times and countries into the essential nature of man; and his words + apply equally to the modern world and to the Athenians of old. Would he + not have asked of us, or rather is he not asking of us, Whether we have + ceased to prefer appearances to reality? Let us take a survey of the + professions to which he refers and try them by his standard. Is not all + literature passing into criticism, just as Athenian literature in the age + of Plato was degenerating into sophistry and rhetoric? We can discourse + and write about poems and paintings, but we seem to have lost the gift of + creating them. Can we wonder that few of them 'come sweetly from nature,' + while ten thousand reviewers (mala murioi) are engaged in dissecting them? + Young men, like Phaedrus, are enamoured of their own literary clique and + have but a feeble sympathy with the master-minds of former ages. They + recognize 'a POETICAL necessity in the writings of their favourite author, + even when he boldly wrote off just what came in his head.' They are + beginning to think that Art is enough, just at the time when Art is about + to disappear from the world. And would not a great painter, such as + Michael Angelo, or a great poet, such as Shakespeare, returning to earth, + 'courteously rebuke' us—would he not say that we are putting 'in the + place of Art the preliminaries of Art,' confusing Art the expression of + mind and truth with Art the composition of colours and forms; and perhaps + he might more severely chastise some of us for trying to invent 'a new + shudder' instead of bringing to the birth living and healthy creations? + These he would regard as the signs of an age wanting in original power. + </p> + <p> + Turning from literature and the arts to law and politics, again we fall + under the lash of Socrates. For do we not often make 'the worse appear the + better cause;' and do not 'both parties sometimes agree to tell lies'? Is + not pleading 'an art of speaking unconnected with the truth'? There is + another text of Socrates which must not be forgotten in relation to this + subject. In the endless maze of English law is there any 'dividing the + whole into parts or reuniting the parts into a whole'—any semblance + of an organized being 'having hands and feet and other members'? Instead + of a system there is the Chaos of Anaxagoras (omou panta chremata) and no + Mind or Order. Then again in the noble art of politics, who thinks of + first principles and of true ideas? We avowedly follow not the truth but + the will of the many (compare Republic). Is not legislation too a sort of + literary effort, and might not statesmanship be described as the 'art of + enchanting' the house? While there are some politicians who have no + knowledge of the truth, but only of what is likely to be approved by 'the + many who sit in judgment,' there are others who can give no form to their + ideal, neither having learned 'the art of persuasion,' nor having any + insight into the 'characters of men.' Once more, has not medical science + become a professional routine, which many 'practise without being able to + say who were their instructors'—the application of a few drugs taken + from a book instead of a life-long study of the natures and constitutions + of human beings? Do we see as clearly as Hippocrates 'that the nature of + the body can only be understood as a whole'? (Compare Charm.) And are not + they held to be the wisest physicians who have the greatest distrust of + their art? What would Socrates think of our newspapers, of our theology? + Perhaps he would be afraid to speak of them;—the one vox populi, the + other vox Dei, he might hesitate to attack them; or he might trace a + fanciful connexion between them, and ask doubtfully, whether they are not + equally inspired? He would remark that we are always searching for a + belief and deploring our unbelief, seeming to prefer popular opinions + unverified and contradictory to unpopular truths which are assured to us + by the most certain proofs: that our preachers are in the habit of + praising God 'without regard to truth and falsehood, attributing to Him + every species of greatness and glory, saying that He is all this and the + cause of all that, in order that we may exhibit Him as the fairest and + best of all' (Symp.) without any consideration of His real nature and + character or of the laws by which He governs the world—seeking for a + 'private judgment' and not for the truth or 'God's judgment.' What would + he say of the Church, which we praise in like manner, 'meaning ourselves,' + without regard to history or experience? Might he not ask, whether we + 'care more for the truth of religion, or for the speaker and the country + from which the truth comes'? or, whether the 'select wise' are not 'the + many' after all? (Symp.) So we may fill up the sketch of Socrates, lest, + as Phaedrus says, the argument should be too 'abstract and barren of + illustrations.' (Compare Symp., Apol., Euthyphro.) + </p> + <p> + He next proceeds with enthusiasm to define the royal art of dialectic as + the power of dividing a whole into parts, and of uniting the parts in a + whole, and which may also be regarded (compare Soph.) as the process of + the mind talking with herself. The latter view has probably led Plato to + the paradox that speech is superior to writing, in which he may seem also + to be doing an injustice to himself. For the two cannot be fairly compared + in the manner which Plato suggests. The contrast of the living and dead + word, and the example of Socrates, which he has represented in the form of + the Dialogue, seem to have misled him. For speech and writing have really + different functions; the one is more transitory, more diffuse, more + elastic and capable of adaptation to moods and times; the other is more + permanent, more concentrated, and is uttered not to this or that person or + audience, but to all the world. In the Politicus the paradox is carried + further; the mind or will of the king is preferred to the written law; he + is supposed to be the Law personified, the ideal made Life. + </p> + <p> + Yet in both these statements there is also contained a truth; they may be + compared with one another, and also with the other famous paradox, that + 'knowledge cannot be taught.' Socrates means to say, that what is truly + written is written in the soul, just as what is truly taught grows up in + the soul from within and is not forced upon it from without. When planted + in a congenial soil the little seed becomes a tree, and 'the birds of the + air build their nests in the branches.' There is an echo of this in the + prayer at the end of the Dialogue, 'Give me beauty in the inward soul, and + may the inward and outward man be at one.' We may further compare the + words of St. Paul, 'Written not on tables of stone, but on fleshly tables + of the heart;' and again, 'Ye are my epistles known and read of all men.' + There may be a use in writing as a preservative against the forgetfulness + of old age, but to live is higher far, to be ourselves the book, or the + epistle, the truth embodied in a person, the Word made flesh. Something + like this we may believe to have passed before Plato's mind when he + affirmed that speech was superior to writing. So in other ages, weary of + literature and criticism, of making many books, of writing articles in + reviews, some have desired to live more closely in communion with their + fellow-men, to speak heart to heart, to speak and act only, and not to + write, following the example of Socrates and of Christ... + </p> + <p> + Some other touches of inimitable grace and art and of the deepest wisdom + may be also noted; such as the prayer or 'collect' which has just been + cited, 'Give me beauty,' etc.; or 'the great name which belongs to God + alone;' or 'the saying of wiser men than ourselves that a man of sense + should try to please not his fellow-servants, but his good and noble + masters,' like St. Paul again; or the description of the 'heavenly + originals'... + </p> + <p> + The chief criteria for determining the date of the Dialogue are (1) the + ages of Lysias and Isocrates; (2) the character of the work. + </p> + <p> + Lysias was born in the year 458; Isocrates in the year 436, about seven + years before the birth of Plato. The first of the two great rhetoricians + is described as in the zenith of his fame; the second is still young and + full of promise. Now it is argued that this must have been written in the + youth of Isocrates, when the promise was not yet fulfilled. And thus we + should have to assign the Dialogue to a year not later than 406, when + Isocrates was thirty and Plato twenty-three years of age, and while + Socrates himself was still alive. + </p> + <p> + Those who argue in this way seem not to reflect how easily Plato can + 'invent Egyptians or anything else,' and how careless he is of historical + truth or probability. Who would suspect that the wise Critias, the + virtuous Charmides, had ended their lives among the thirty tyrants? Who + would imagine that Lysias, who is here assailed by Socrates, is the son of + his old friend Cephalus? Or that Isocrates himself is the enemy of Plato + and his school? No arguments can be drawn from the appropriateness or + inappropriateness of the characters of Plato. (Else, perhaps, it might be + further argued that, judging from their extant remains, insipid rhetoric + is far more characteristic of Isocrates than of Lysias.) But Plato makes + use of names which have often hardly any connection with the historical + characters to whom they belong. In this instance the comparative favour + shown to Isocrates may possibly be accounted for by the circumstance of + his belonging to the aristocratical, as Lysias to the democratical party. + </p> + <p> + Few persons will be inclined to suppose, in the superficial manner of some + ancient critics, that a dialogue which treats of love must necessarily + have been written in youth. As little weight can be attached to the + argument that Plato must have visited Egypt before he wrote the story of + Theuth and Thamus. For there is no real proof that he ever went to Egypt; + and even if he did, he might have known or invented Egyptian traditions + before he went there. The late date of the Phaedrus will have to be + established by other arguments than these: the maturity of the thought, + the perfection of the style, the insight, the relation to the other + Platonic Dialogues, seem to contradict the notion that it could have been + the work of a youth of twenty or twenty-three years of age. The + cosmological notion of the mind as the primum mobile, and the admission of + impulse into the immortal nature, also afford grounds for assigning a + later date. (Compare Tim., Soph., Laws.) Add to this that the picture of + Socrates, though in some lesser particulars,—e.g. his going without + sandals, his habit of remaining within the walls, his emphatic declaration + that his study is human nature,—an exact resemblance, is in the main + the Platonic and not the real Socrates. Can we suppose 'the young man to + have told such lies' about his master while he was still alive? Moreover, + when two Dialogues are so closely connected as the Phaedrus and Symposium, + there is great improbability in supposing that one of them was written at + least twenty years after the other. The conclusion seems to be, that the + Dialogue was written at some comparatively late but unknown period of + Plato's life, after he had deserted the purely Socratic point of view, but + before he had entered on the more abstract speculations of the Sophist or + the Philebus. Taking into account the divisions of the soul, the doctrine + of transmigration, the contemplative nature of the philosophic life, and + the character of the style, we shall not be far wrong in placing the + Phaedrus in the neighbourhood of the Republic; remarking only that + allowance must be made for the poetical element in the Phaedrus, which, + while falling short of the Republic in definite philosophic results, seems + to have glimpses of a truth beyond. + </p> + <p> + Two short passages, which are unconnected with the main subject of the + Dialogue, may seem to merit a more particular notice: (1) the locus + classicus about mythology; (2) the tale of the grasshoppers. + </p> + <p> + The first passage is remarkable as showing that Plato was entirely free + from what may be termed the Euhemerism of his age. For there were + Euhemerists in Hellas long before Euhemerus. Early philosophers, like + Anaxagoras and Metrodorus, had found in Homer and mythology hidden + meanings. Plato, with a truer instinct, rejects these attractive + interpretations; he regards the inventor of them as 'unfortunate;' and + they draw a man off from the knowledge of himself. There is a latent + criticism, and also a poetical sense in Plato, which enable him to discard + them, and yet in another way to make use of poetry and mythology as a + vehicle of thought and feeling. What would he have said of the discovery + of Christian doctrines in these old Greek legends? While acknowledging + that such interpretations are 'very nice,' would he not have remarked that + they are found in all sacred literatures? They cannot be tested by any + criterion of truth, or used to establish any truth; they add nothing to + the sum of human knowledge; they are—what we please, and if employed + as 'peacemakers' between the new and old are liable to serious + misconstruction, as he elsewhere remarks (Republic). And therefore he + would have 'bid Farewell to them; the study of them would take up too much + of his time; and he has not as yet learned the true nature of religion.' + The 'sophistical' interest of Phaedrus, the little touch about the two + versions of the story, the ironical manner in which these explanations are + set aside—'the common opinion about them is enough for me'—the + allusion to the serpent Typho may be noted in passing; also the general + agreement between the tone of this speech and the remark of Socrates which + follows afterwards, 'I am a diviner, but a poor one.' + </p> + <p> + The tale of the grasshoppers is naturally suggested by the surrounding + scene. They are also the representatives of the Athenians as children of + the soil. Under the image of the lively chirruping grasshoppers who inform + the Muses in heaven about those who honour them on earth, Plato intends to + represent an Athenian audience (tettigessin eoikotes). The story is + introduced, apparently, to mark a change of subject, and also, like + several other allusions which occur in the course of the Dialogue, in + order to preserve the scene in the recollection of the reader. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + No one can duly appreciate the dialogues of Plato, especially the + Phaedrus, Symposium, and portions of the Republic, who has not a sympathy + with mysticism. To the uninitiated, as he would himself have acknowledged, + they will appear to be the dreams of a poet who is disguised as a + philosopher. There is a twofold difficulty in apprehending this aspect of + the Platonic writings. First, we do not immediately realize that under the + marble exterior of Greek literature was concealed a soul thrilling with + spiritual emotion. Secondly, the forms or figures which the Platonic + philosophy assumes, are not like the images of the prophet Isaiah, or of + the Apocalypse, familiar to us in the days of our youth. By mysticism we + mean, not the extravagance of an erring fancy, but the concentration of + reason in feeling, the enthusiastic love of the good, the true, the one, + the sense of the infinity of knowledge and of the marvel of the human + faculties. When feeding upon such thoughts the 'wing of the soul' is + renewed and gains strength; she is raised above 'the manikins of earth' + and their opinions, waiting in wonder to know, and working with reverence + to find out what God in this or in another life may reveal to her. + </p> + <p> + ON THE DECLINE OF GREEK LITERATURE. + </p> + <p> + One of the main purposes of Plato in the Phaedrus is to satirize Rhetoric, + or rather the Professors of Rhetoric who swarmed at Athens in the fourth + century before Christ. As in the opening of the Dialogue he ridicules the + interpreters of mythology; as in the Protagoras he mocks at the Sophists; + as in the Euthydemus he makes fun of the word-splitting Eristics; as in + the Cratylus he ridicules the fancies of Etymologers; as in the Meno and + Gorgias and some other dialogues he makes reflections and casts sly + imputation upon the higher classes at Athens; so in the Phaedrus, chiefly + in the latter part, he aims his shafts at the rhetoricians. The profession + of rhetoric was the greatest and most popular in Athens, necessary 'to a + man's salvation,' or at any rate to his attainment of wealth or power; but + Plato finds nothing wholesome or genuine in the purpose of it. It is a + veritable 'sham,' having no relation to fact, or to truth of any kind. It + is antipathetic to him not only as a philosopher, but also as a great + writer. He cannot abide the tricks of the rhetoricians, or the pedantries + and mannerisms which they introduce into speech and writing. He sees + clearly how far removed they are from the ways of simplicity and truth, + and how ignorant of the very elements of the art which they are professing + to teach. The thing which is most necessary of all, the knowledge of human + nature, is hardly if at all considered by them. The true rules of + composition, which are very few, are not to be found in their voluminous + systems. Their pretentiousness, their omniscience, their large fortunes, + their impatience of argument, their indifference to first principles, + their stupidity, their progresses through Hellas accompanied by a troop of + their disciples—these things were very distasteful to Plato, who + esteemed genius far above art, and was quite sensible of the interval + which separated them (Phaedrus). It is the interval which separates + Sophists and rhetoricians from ancient famous men and women such as Homer + and Hesiod, Anacreon and Sappho, Aeschylus and Sophocles; and the Platonic + Socrates is afraid that, if he approves the former, he will be disowned by + the latter. The spirit of rhetoric was soon to overspread all Hellas; and + Plato with prophetic insight may have seen, from afar, the great literary + waste or dead level, or interminable marsh, in which Greek literature was + soon to disappear. A similar vision of the decline of the Greek drama and + of the contrast of the old literature and the new was present to the mind + of Aristophanes after the death of the three great tragedians (Frogs). + After about a hundred, or at most two hundred years if we exclude Homer, + the genius of Hellas had ceased to flower or blossom. The dreary waste + which follows, beginning with the Alexandrian writers and even before them + in the platitudes of Isocrates and his school, spreads over much more than + a thousand years. And from this decline the Greek language and literature, + unlike the Latin, which has come to life in new forms and been developed + into the great European languages, never recovered. + </p> + <p> + This monotony of literature, without merit, without genius and without + character, is a phenomenon which deserves more attention than it has + hitherto received; it is a phenomenon unique in the literary history of + the world. How could there have been so much cultivation, so much + diligence in writing, and so little mind or real creative power? Why did a + thousand years invent nothing better than Sibylline books, Orphic poems, + Byzantine imitations of classical histories, Christian reproductions of + Greek plays, novels like the silly and obscene romances of Longus and + Heliodorus, innumerable forged epistles, a great many epigrams, + biographies of the meanest and most meagre description, a sham philosophy + which was the bastard progeny of the union between Hellas and the East? + Only in Plutarch, in Lucian, in Longinus, in the Roman emperors Marcus + Aurelius and Julian, in some of the Christian fathers are there any traces + of good sense or originality, or any power of arousing the interest of + later ages. And when new books ceased to be written, why did hosts of + grammarians and interpreters flock in, who never attain to any sound + notion either of grammar or interpretation? Why did the physical sciences + never arrive at any true knowledge or make any real progress? Why did + poetry droop and languish? Why did history degenerate into fable? Why did + words lose their power of expression? Why were ages of external greatness + and magnificence attended by all the signs of decay in the human mind + which are possible? + </p> + <p> + To these questions many answers may be given, which if not the true + causes, are at least to be reckoned among the symptoms of the decline. + There is the want of method in physical science, the want of criticism in + history, the want of simplicity or delicacy in poetry, the want of + political freedom, which is the true atmosphere of public speaking, in + oratory. The ways of life were luxurious and commonplace. Philosophy had + become extravagant, eclectic, abstract, devoid of any real content. At + length it ceased to exist. It had spread words like plaster over the whole + field of knowledge. It had grown ascetic on one side, mystical on the + other. Neither of these tendencies was favourable to literature. There was + no sense of beauty either in language or in art. The Greek world became + vacant, barbaric, oriental. No one had anything new to say, or any + conviction of truth. The age had no remembrance of the past, no power of + understanding what other ages thought and felt. The Catholic faith had + degenerated into dogma and controversy. For more than a thousand years not + a single writer of first-rate, or even of second-rate, reputation has a + place in the innumerable rolls of Greek literature. + </p> + <p> + If we seek to go deeper, we can still only describe the outward nature of + the clouds or darkness which were spread over the heavens during so many + ages without relief or light. We may say that this, like several other + long periods in the history of the human race, was destitute, or deprived + of the moral qualities which are the root of literary excellence. It had + no life or aspiration, no national or political force, no desire for + consistency, no love of knowledge for its own sake. It did not attempt to + pierce the mists which surrounded it. It did not propose to itself to go + forward and scale the heights of knowledge, but to go backwards and seek + at the beginning what can only be found towards the end. It was lost in + doubt and ignorance. It rested upon tradition and authority. It had none + of the higher play of fancy which creates poetry; and where there is no + true poetry, neither can there be any good prose. It had no great + characters, and therefore it had no great writers. It was incapable of + distinguishing between words and things. It was so hopelessly below the + ancient standard of classical Greek art and literature that it had no + power of understanding or of valuing them. It is doubtful whether any + Greek author was justly appreciated in antiquity except by his own + contemporaries; and this neglect of the great authors of the past led to + the disappearance of the larger part of them, while the Greek fathers were + mostly preserved. There is no reason to suppose that, in the century + before the taking of Constantinople, much more was in existence than the + scholars of the Renaissance carried away with them to Italy. + </p> + <p> + The character of Greek literature sank lower as time went on. It consisted + more and more of compilations, of scholia, of extracts, of commentaries, + forgeries, imitations. The commentator or interpreter had no conception of + his author as a whole, and very little of the context of any passage which + he was explaining. The least things were preferred by him to the greatest. + The question of a reading, or a grammatical form, or an accent, or the + uses of a word, took the place of the aim or subject of the book. He had + no sense of the beauties of an author, and very little light is thrown by + him on real difficulties. He interprets past ages by his own. The greatest + classical writers are the least appreciated by him. This seems to be the + reason why so many of them have perished, why the lyric poets have almost + wholly disappeared; why, out of the eighty or ninety tragedies of + Aeschylus and Sophocles, only seven of each had been preserved. + </p> + <p> + Such an age of sciolism and scholasticism may possibly once more get the + better of the literary world. There are those who prophesy that the signs + of such a day are again appearing among us, and that at the end of the + present century no writer of the first class will be still alive. They + think that the Muse of Literature may transfer herself to other countries + less dried up or worn out than our own. They seem to see the withering + effect of criticism on original genius. No one can doubt that such a decay + or decline of literature and of art seriously affects the manners and + character of a nation. It takes away half the joys and refinements of + life; it increases its dulness and grossness. Hence it becomes a matter of + great interest to consider how, if at all, such a degeneracy may be + averted. Is there any elixir which can restore life and youth to the + literature of a nation, or at any rate which can prevent it becoming + unmanned and enfeebled? + </p> + <p> + First there is the progress of education. It is possible, and even + probable, that the extension of the means of knowledge over a wider area + and to persons living under new conditions may lead to many new + combinations of thought and language. But, as yet, experience does not + favour the realization of such a hope or promise. It may be truly answered + that at present the training of teachers and the methods of education are + very imperfect, and therefore that we cannot judge of the future by the + present. When more of our youth are trained in the best literatures, and + in the best parts of them, their minds may be expected to have a larger + growth. They will have more interests, more thoughts, more material for + conversation; they will have a higher standard and begin to think for + themselves. The number of persons who will have the opportunity of + receiving the highest education through the cheap press, and by the help + of high schools and colleges, may increase tenfold. It is likely that in + every thousand persons there is at least one who is far above the average + in natural capacity, but the seed which is in him dies for want of + cultivation. It has never had any stimulus to grow, or any field in which + to blossom and produce fruit. Here is a great reservoir or treasure-house + of human intelligence out of which new waters may flow and cover the + earth. If at any time the great men of the world should die out, and + originality or genius appear to suffer a partial eclipse, there is a + boundless hope in the multitude of intelligences for future generations. + They may bring gifts to men such as the world has never received before. + They may begin at a higher point and yet take with them all the results of + the past. The co-operation of many may have effects not less striking, + though different in character from those which the creative genius of a + single man, such as Bacon or Newton, formerly produced. There is also + great hope to be derived, not merely from the extension of education over + a wider area, but from the continuance of it during many generations. + Educated parents will have children fit to receive education; and these + again will grow up under circumstances far more favourable to the growth + of intelligence than any which have hitherto existed in our own or in + former ages. + </p> + <p> + Even if we were to suppose no more men of genius to be produced, the great + writers of ancient or of modern times will remain to furnish abundant + materials of education to the coming generation. Now that every nation + holds communication with every other, we may truly say in a fuller sense + than formerly that 'the thoughts of men are widened with the process of + the suns.' They will not be 'cribbed, cabined, and confined' within a + province or an island. The East will provide elements of culture to the + West as well as the West to the East. The religions and literatures of the + world will be open books, which he who wills may read. The human race may + not be always ground down by bodily toil, but may have greater leisure for + the improvement of the mind. The increasing sense of the greatness and + infinity of nature will tend to awaken in men larger and more liberal + thoughts. The love of mankind may be the source of a greater development + of literature than nationality has ever been. There may be a greater + freedom from prejudice and party; we may better understand the whereabouts + of truth, and therefore there may be more success and fewer failures in + the search for it. Lastly, in the coming ages we shall carry with us the + recollection of the past, in which are necessarily contained many seeds of + revival and renaissance in the future. So far is the world from becoming + exhausted, so groundless is the fear that literature will ever die out. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PHAEDRUS + </h2> + <p> + PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: Socrates, Phaedrus. + </p> + <p> + SCENE: Under a plane-tree, by the banks of the Ilissus. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: My dear Phaedrus, whence come you, and whither are you going? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I come from Lysias the son of Cephalus, and I am going to take a + walk outside the wall, for I have been sitting with him the whole morning; + and our common friend Acumenus tells me that it is much more refreshing to + walk in the open air than to be shut up in a cloister. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: There he is right. Lysias then, I suppose, was in the town? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes, he was staying with Epicrates, here at the house of + Morychus; that house which is near the temple of Olympian Zeus. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And how did he entertain you? Can I be wrong in supposing that + Lysias gave you a feast of discourse? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: You shall hear, if you can spare time to accompany me. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And should I not deem the conversation of you and Lysias 'a + thing of higher import,' as I may say in the words of Pindar, 'than any + business'? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Will you go on? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And will you go on with the narration? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: My tale, Socrates, is one of your sort, for love was the theme + which occupied us—love after a fashion: Lysias has been writing + about a fair youth who was being tempted, but not by a lover; and this was + the point: he ingeniously proved that the non-lover should be accepted + rather than the lover. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: O that is noble of him! I wish that he would say the poor man + rather than the rich, and the old man rather than the young one;—then + he would meet the case of me and of many a man; his words would be quite + refreshing, and he would be a public benefactor. For my part, I do so long + to hear his speech, that if you walk all the way to Megara, and when you + have reached the wall come back, as Herodicus recommends, without going + in, I will keep you company. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: What do you mean, my good Socrates? How can you imagine that my + unpractised memory can do justice to an elaborate work, which the greatest + rhetorician of the age spent a long time in composing. Indeed, I cannot; I + would give a great deal if I could. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I believe that I know Phaedrus about as well as I know myself, + and I am very sure that the speech of Lysias was repeated to him, not once + only, but again and again;—he insisted on hearing it many times over + and Lysias was very willing to gratify him; at last, when nothing else + would do, he got hold of the book, and looked at what he most wanted to + see,—this occupied him during the whole morning;—and then when + he was tired with sitting, he went out to take a walk, not until, by the + dog, as I believe, he had simply learned by heart the entire discourse, + unless it was unusually long, and he went to a place outside the wall that + he might practise his lesson. There he saw a certain lover of discourse + who had a similar weakness;—he saw and rejoiced; now thought he, 'I + shall have a partner in my revels.' And he invited him to come and walk + with him. But when the lover of discourse begged that he would repeat the + tale, he gave himself airs and said, 'No I cannot,' as if he were + indisposed; although, if the hearer had refused, he would sooner or later + have been compelled by him to listen whether he would or no. Therefore, + Phaedrus, bid him do at once what he will soon do whether bidden or not. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I see that you will not let me off until I speak in some fashion + or other; verily therefore my best plan is to speak as I best can. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: A very true remark, that of yours. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I will do as I say; but believe me, Socrates, I did not learn + the very words—O no; nevertheless I have a general notion of what he + said, and will give you a summary of the points in which the lover + differed from the non-lover. Let me begin at the beginning. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Yes, my sweet one; but you must first of all show what you have + in your left hand under your cloak, for that roll, as I suspect, is the + actual discourse. Now, much as I love you, I would not have you suppose + that I am going to have your memory exercised at my expense, if you have + Lysias himself here. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Enough; I see that I have no hope of practising my art upon you. + But if I am to read, where would you please to sit? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Let us turn aside and go by the Ilissus; we will sit down at + some quiet spot. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I am fortunate in not having my sandals, and as you never have + any, I think that we may go along the brook and cool our feet in the + water; this will be the easiest way, and at midday and in the summer is + far from being unpleasant. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Lead on, and look out for a place in which we can sit down. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Do you see the tallest plane-tree in the distance? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Yes. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: There are shade and gentle breezes, and grass on which we may + either sit or lie down. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Move forward. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I should like to know, Socrates, whether the place is not + somewhere here at which Boreas is said to have carried off Orithyia from + the banks of the Ilissus? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Such is the tradition. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: And is this the exact spot? The little stream is delightfully + clear and bright; I can fancy that there might be maidens playing near. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I believe that the spot is not exactly here, but about a quarter + of a mile lower down, where you cross to the temple of Artemis, and there + is, I think, some sort of an altar of Boreas at the place. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I have never noticed it; but I beseech you to tell me, Socrates, + do you believe this tale? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: The wise are doubtful, and I should not be singular if, like + them, I too doubted. I might have a rational explanation that Orithyia was + playing with Pharmacia, when a northern gust carried her over the + neighbouring rocks; and this being the manner of her death, she was said + to have been carried away by Boreas. There is a discrepancy, however, + about the locality; according to another version of the story she was + taken from Areopagus, and not from this place. Now I quite acknowledge + that these allegories are very nice, but he is not to be envied who has to + invent them; much labour and ingenuity will be required of him; and when + he has once begun, he must go on and rehabilitate Hippocentaurs and + chimeras dire. Gorgons and winged steeds flow in apace, and numberless + other inconceivable and portentous natures. And if he is sceptical about + them, and would fain reduce them one after another to the rules of + probability, this sort of crude philosophy will take up a great deal of + time. Now I have no leisure for such enquiries; shall I tell you why? I + must first know myself, as the Delphian inscription says; to be curious + about that which is not my concern, while I am still in ignorance of my + own self, would be ridiculous. And therefore I bid farewell to all this; + the common opinion is enough for me. For, as I was saying, I want to know + not about this, but about myself: am I a monster more complicated and + swollen with passion than the serpent Typho, or a creature of a gentler + and simpler sort, to whom Nature has given a diviner and lowlier destiny? + But let me ask you, friend: have we not reached the plane-tree to which + you were conducting us? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes, this is the tree. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: By Here, a fair resting-place, full of summer sounds and scents. + Here is this lofty and spreading plane-tree, and the agnus castus high and + clustering, in the fullest blossom and the greatest fragrance; and the + stream which flows beneath the plane-tree is deliciously cold to the feet. + Judging from the ornaments and images, this must be a spot sacred to + Achelous and the Nymphs. How delightful is the breeze:—so very + sweet; and there is a sound in the air shrill and summerlike which makes + answer to the chorus of the cicadae. But the greatest charm of all is the + grass, like a pillow gently sloping to the head. My dear Phaedrus, you + have been an admirable guide. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: What an incomprehensible being you are, Socrates: when you are + in the country, as you say, you really are like some stranger who is led + about by a guide. Do you ever cross the border? I rather think that you + never venture even outside the gates. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Very true, my good friend; and I hope that you will excuse me + when you hear the reason, which is, that I am a lover of knowledge, and + the men who dwell in the city are my teachers, and not the trees or the + country. Though I do indeed believe that you have found a spell with which + to draw me out of the city into the country, like a hungry cow before whom + a bough or a bunch of fruit is waved. For only hold up before me in like + manner a book, and you may lead me all round Attica, and over the wide + world. And now having arrived, I intend to lie down, and do you choose any + posture in which you can read best. Begin. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Listen. You know how matters stand with me; and how, as I + conceive, this affair may be arranged for the advantage of both of us. And + I maintain that I ought not to fail in my suit, because I am not your + lover: for lovers repent of the kindnesses which they have shown when + their passion ceases, but to the non-lovers who are free and not under any + compulsion, no time of repentance ever comes; for they confer their + benefits according to the measure of their ability, in the way which is + most conducive to their own interest. Then again, lovers consider how by + reason of their love they have neglected their own concerns and rendered + service to others: and when to these benefits conferred they add on the + troubles which they have endured, they think that they have long ago made + to the beloved a very ample return. But the non-lover has no such + tormenting recollections; he has never neglected his affairs or quarrelled + with his relations; he has no troubles to add up or excuses to invent; and + being well rid of all these evils, why should he not freely do what will + gratify the beloved? If you say that the lover is more to be esteemed, + because his love is thought to be greater; for he is willing to say and do + what is hateful to other men, in order to please his beloved;—that, + if true, is only a proof that he will prefer any future love to his + present, and will injure his old love at the pleasure of the new. And how, + in a matter of such infinite importance, can a man be right in trusting + himself to one who is afflicted with a malady which no experienced person + would attempt to cure, for the patient himself admits that he is not in + his right mind, and acknowledges that he is wrong in his mind, but says + that he is unable to control himself? And if he came to his right mind, + would he ever imagine that the desires were good which he conceived when + in his wrong mind? Once more, there are many more non-lovers than lovers; + and if you choose the best of the lovers, you will not have many to choose + from; but if from the non-lovers, the choice will be larger, and you will + be far more likely to find among them a person who is worthy of your + friendship. If public opinion be your dread, and you would avoid reproach, + in all probability the lover, who is always thinking that other men are as + emulous of him as he is of them, will boast to some one of his successes, + and make a show of them openly in the pride of his heart;—he wants + others to know that his labour has not been lost; but the non-lover is + more his own master, and is desirous of solid good, and not of the opinion + of mankind. Again, the lover may be generally noted or seen following the + beloved (this is his regular occupation), and whenever they are observed + to exchange two words they are supposed to meet about some affair of love + either past or in contemplation; but when non-lovers meet, no one asks the + reason why, because people know that talking to another is natural, + whether friendship or mere pleasure be the motive. Once more, if you fear + the fickleness of friendship, consider that in any other case a quarrel + might be a mutual calamity; but now, when you have given up what is most + precious to you, you will be the greater loser, and therefore, you will + have more reason in being afraid of the lover, for his vexations are many, + and he is always fancying that every one is leagued against him. Wherefore + also he debars his beloved from society; he will not have you intimate + with the wealthy, lest they should exceed him in wealth, or with men of + education, lest they should be his superiors in understanding; and he is + equally afraid of anybody's influence who has any other advantage over + himself. If he can persuade you to break with them, you are left without a + friend in the world; or if, out of a regard to your own interest, you have + more sense than to comply with his desire, you will have to quarrel with + him. But those who are non-lovers, and whose success in love is the reward + of their merit, will not be jealous of the companions of their beloved, + and will rather hate those who refuse to be his associates, thinking that + their favourite is slighted by the latter and benefited by the former; for + more love than hatred may be expected to come to him out of his friendship + with others. Many lovers too have loved the person of a youth before they + knew his character or his belongings; so that when their passion has + passed away, there is no knowing whether they will continue to be his + friends; whereas, in the case of non-lovers who were always friends, the + friendship is not lessened by the favours granted; but the recollection of + these remains with them, and is an earnest of good things to come. + </p> + <p> + Further, I say that you are likely to be improved by me, whereas the lover + will spoil you. For they praise your words and actions in a wrong way; + partly, because they are afraid of offending you, and also, their judgment + is weakened by passion. Such are the feats which love exhibits; he makes + things painful to the disappointed which give no pain to others; he + compels the successful lover to praise what ought not to give him + pleasure, and therefore the beloved is to be pitied rather than envied. + But if you listen to me, in the first place, I, in my intercourse with + you, shall not merely regard present enjoyment, but also future advantage, + being not mastered by love, but my own master; nor for small causes taking + violent dislikes, but even when the cause is great, slowly laying up + little wrath—unintentional offences I shall forgive, and intentional + ones I shall try to prevent; and these are the marks of a friendship which + will last. + </p> + <p> + Do you think that a lover only can be a firm friend? reflect:—if + this were true, we should set small value on sons, or fathers, or mothers; + nor should we ever have loyal friends, for our love of them arises not + from passion, but from other associations. Further, if we ought to shower + favours on those who are the most eager suitors,—on that principle, + we ought always to do good, not to the most virtuous, but to the most + needy; for they are the persons who will be most relieved, and will + therefore be the most grateful; and when you make a feast you should + invite not your friend, but the beggar and the empty soul; for they will + love you, and attend you, and come about your doors, and will be the best + pleased, and the most grateful, and will invoke many a blessing on your + head. Yet surely you ought not to be granting favours to those who besiege + you with prayer, but to those who are best able to reward you; nor to the + lover only, but to those who are worthy of love; nor to those who will + enjoy the bloom of your youth, but to those who will share their + possessions with you in age; nor to those who, having succeeded, will + glory in their success to others, but to those who will be modest and tell + no tales; nor to those who care about you for a moment only, but to those + who will continue your friends through life; nor to those who, when their + passion is over, will pick a quarrel with you, but rather to those who, + when the charm of youth has left you, will show their own virtue. Remember + what I have said; and consider yet this further point: friends admonish + the lover under the idea that his way of life is bad, but no one of his + kindred ever yet censured the non-lover, or thought that he was + ill-advised about his own interests. + </p> + <p> + 'Perhaps you will ask me whether I propose that you should indulge every + non-lover. To which I reply that not even the lover would advise you to + indulge all lovers, for the indiscriminate favour is less esteemed by the + rational recipient, and less easily hidden by him who would escape the + censure of the world. Now love ought to be for the advantage of both + parties, and for the injury of neither. + </p> + <p> + 'I believe that I have said enough; but if there is anything more which + you desire or which in your opinion needs to be supplied, ask and I will + answer.' + </p> + <p> + Now, Socrates, what do you think? Is not the discourse excellent, more + especially in the matter of the language? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Yes, quite admirable; the effect on me was ravishing. And this I + owe to you, Phaedrus, for I observed you while reading to be in an + ecstasy, and thinking that you are more experienced in these matters than + I am, I followed your example, and, like you, my divine darling, I became + inspired with a phrenzy. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Indeed, you are pleased to be merry. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Do you mean that I am not in earnest? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Now don't talk in that way, Socrates, but let me have your real + opinion; I adjure you, by Zeus, the god of friendship, to tell me whether + you think that any Hellene could have said more or spoken better on the + same subject. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Well, but are you and I expected to praise the sentiments of the + author, or only the clearness, and roundness, and finish, and tournure of + the language? As to the first I willingly submit to your better judgment, + for I am not worthy to form an opinion, having only attended to the + rhetorical manner; and I was doubting whether this could have been + defended even by Lysias himself; I thought, though I speak under + correction, that he repeated himself two or three times, either from want + of words or from want of pains; and also, he appeared to me ostentatiously + to exult in showing how well he could say the same thing in two or three + ways. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Nonsense, Socrates; what you call repetition was the especial + merit of the speech; for he omitted no topic of which the subject rightly + allowed, and I do not think that any one could have spoken better or more + exhaustively. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: There I cannot go along with you. Ancient sages, men and women, + who have spoken and written of these things, would rise up in judgment + against me, if out of complaisance I assented to you. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Who are they, and where did you hear anything better than this? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I am sure that I must have heard; but at this moment I do not + remember from whom; perhaps from Sappho the fair, or Anacreon the wise; + or, possibly, from a prose writer. Why do I say so? Why, because I + perceive that my bosom is full, and that I could make another speech as + good as that of Lysias, and different. Now I am certain that this is not + an invention of my own, who am well aware that I know nothing, and + therefore I can only infer that I have been filled through the ears, like + a pitcher, from the waters of another, though I have actually forgotten in + my stupidity who was my informant. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: That is grand:—but never mind where you heard the + discourse or from whom; let that be a mystery not to be divulged even at + my earnest desire. Only, as you say, promise to make another and better + oration, equal in length and entirely new, on the same subject; and I, + like the nine Archons, will promise to set up a golden image at Delphi, + not only of myself, but of you, and as large as life. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: You are a dear golden ass if you suppose me to mean that Lysias + has altogether missed the mark, and that I can make a speech from which + all his arguments are to be excluded. The worst of authors will say + something which is to the point. Who, for example, could speak on this + thesis of yours without praising the discretion of the non-lover and + blaming the indiscretion of the lover? These are the commonplaces of the + subject which must come in (for what else is there to be said?) and must + be allowed and excused; the only merit is in the arrangement of them, for + there can be none in the invention; but when you leave the commonplaces, + then there may be some originality. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I admit that there is reason in what you say, and I too will be + reasonable, and will allow you to start with the premiss that the lover is + more disordered in his wits than the non-lover; if in what remains you + make a longer and better speech than Lysias, and use other arguments, then + I say again, that a statue you shall have of beaten gold, and take your + place by the colossal offerings of the Cypselids at Olympia. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: How profoundly in earnest is the lover, because to tease him I + lay a finger upon his love! And so, Phaedrus, you really imagine that I am + going to improve upon the ingenuity of Lysias? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: There I have you as you had me, and you must just speak 'as you + best can.' Do not let us exchange 'tu quoque' as in a farce, or compel me + to say to you as you said to me, 'I know Socrates as well as I know + myself, and he was wanting to speak, but he gave himself airs.' Rather I + would have you consider that from this place we stir not until you have + unbosomed yourself of the speech; for here are we all alone, and I am + stronger, remember, and younger than you:—Wherefore perpend, and do + not compel me to use violence. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: But, my sweet Phaedrus, how ridiculous it would be of me to + compete with Lysias in an extempore speech! He is a master in his art and + I am an untaught man. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: You see how matters stand; and therefore let there be no more + pretences; for, indeed, I know the word that is irresistible. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Then don't say it. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes, but I will; and my word shall be an oath. 'I say, or rather + swear'—but what god will be witness of my oath?—'By this + plane-tree I swear, that unless you repeat the discourse here in the face + of this very plane-tree, I will never tell you another; never let you have + word of another!' + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Villain! I am conquered; the poor lover of discourse has no more + to say. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Then why are you still at your tricks? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I am not going to play tricks now that you have taken the oath, + for I cannot allow myself to be starved. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Proceed. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Shall I tell you what I will do? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: What? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I will veil my face and gallop through the discourse as fast as + I can, for if I see you I shall feel ashamed and not know what to say. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Only go on and you may do anything else which you please. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Come, O ye Muses, melodious, as ye are called, whether you have + received this name from the character of your strains, or because the + Melians are a musical race, help, O help me in the tale which my good + friend here desires me to rehearse, in order that his friend whom he + always deemed wise may seem to him to be wiser than ever. + </p> + <p> + Once upon a time there was a fair boy, or, more properly speaking, a + youth; he was very fair and had a great many lovers; and there was one + special cunning one, who had persuaded the youth that he did not love him, + but he really loved him all the same; and one day when he was paying his + addresses to him, he used this very argument—that he ought to accept + the non-lover rather than the lover; his words were as follows:— + </p> + <p> + 'All good counsel begins in the same way; a man should know what he is + advising about, or his counsel will all come to nought. But people imagine + that they know about the nature of things, when they don't know about + them, and, not having come to an understanding at first because they think + that they know, they end, as might be expected, in contradicting one + another and themselves. Now you and I must not be guilty of this + fundamental error which we condemn in others; but as our question is + whether the lover or non-lover is to be preferred, let us first of all + agree in defining the nature and power of love, and then, keeping our eyes + upon the definition and to this appealing, let us further enquire whether + love brings advantage or disadvantage. + </p> + <p> + 'Every one sees that love is a desire, and we know also that non-lovers + desire the beautiful and good. Now in what way is the lover to be + distinguished from the non-lover? Let us note that in every one of us + there are two guiding and ruling principles which lead us whither they + will; one is the natural desire of pleasure, the other is an acquired + opinion which aspires after the best; and these two are sometimes in + harmony and then again at war, and sometimes the one, sometimes the other + conquers. When opinion by the help of reason leads us to the best, the + conquering principle is called temperance; but when desire, which is + devoid of reason, rules in us and drags us to pleasure, that power of + misrule is called excess. Now excess has many names, and many members, and + many forms, and any of these forms when very marked gives a name, neither + honourable nor creditable, to the bearer of the name. The desire of + eating, for example, which gets the better of the higher reason and the + other desires, is called gluttony, and he who is possessed by it is called + a glutton; the tyrannical desire of drink, which inclines the possessor of + the desire to drink, has a name which is only too obvious, and there can + be as little doubt by what name any other appetite of the same family + would be called;—it will be the name of that which happens to be + dominant. And now I think that you will perceive the drift of my + discourse; but as every spoken word is in a manner plainer than the + unspoken, I had better say further that the irrational desire which + overcomes the tendency of opinion towards right, and is led away to the + enjoyment of beauty, and especially of personal beauty, by the desires + which are her own kindred—that supreme desire, I say, which by + leading conquers and by the force of passion is reinforced, from this very + force, receiving a name, is called love (erromenos eros).' + </p> + <p> + And now, dear Phaedrus, I shall pause for an instant to ask whether you do + not think me, as I appear to myself, inspired? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes, Socrates, you seem to have a very unusual flow of words. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Listen to me, then, in silence; for surely the place is holy; so + that you must not wonder, if, as I proceed, I appear to be in a divine + fury, for already I am getting into dithyrambics. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Nothing can be truer. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: The responsibility rests with you. But hear what follows, and + perhaps the fit may be averted; all is in their hands above. I will go on + talking to my youth. Listen:— + </p> + <p> + Thus, my friend, we have declared and defined the nature of the subject. + Keeping the definition in view, let us now enquire what advantage or + disadvantage is likely to ensue from the lover or the non-lover to him who + accepts their advances. + </p> + <p> + He who is the victim of his passions and the slave of pleasure will of + course desire to make his beloved as agreeable to himself as possible. Now + to him who has a mind diseased anything is agreeable which is not opposed + to him, but that which is equal or superior is hateful to him, and + therefore the lover will not brook any superiority or equality on the part + of his beloved; he is always employed in reducing him to inferiority. And + the ignorant is the inferior of the wise, the coward of the brave, the + slow of speech of the speaker, the dull of the clever. These, and not + these only, are the mental defects of the beloved;—defects which, + when implanted by nature, are necessarily a delight to the lover, and when + not implanted, he must contrive to implant them in him, if he would not be + deprived of his fleeting joy. And therefore he cannot help being jealous, + and will debar his beloved from the advantages of society which would make + a man of him, and especially from that society which would have given him + wisdom, and thereby he cannot fail to do him great harm. That is to say, + in his excessive fear lest he should come to be despised in his eyes he + will be compelled to banish from him divine philosophy; and there is no + greater injury which he can inflict upon him than this. He will contrive + that his beloved shall be wholly ignorant, and in everything shall look to + him; he is to be the delight of the lover's heart, and a curse to himself. + Verily, a lover is a profitable guardian and associate for him in all that + relates to his mind. + </p> + <p> + Let us next see how his master, whose law of life is pleasure and not + good, will keep and train the body of his servant. Will he not choose a + beloved who is delicate rather than sturdy and strong? One brought up in + shady bowers and not in the bright sun, a stranger to manly exercises and + the sweat of toil, accustomed only to a soft and luxurious diet, instead + of the hues of health having the colours of paint and ornament, and the + rest of a piece?—such a life as any one can imagine and which I need + not detail at length. But I may sum up all that I have to say in a word, + and pass on. Such a person in war, or in any of the great crises of life, + will be the anxiety of his friends and also of his lover, and certainly + not the terror of his enemies; which nobody can deny. + </p> + <p> + And now let us tell what advantage or disadvantage the beloved will + receive from the guardianship and society of his lover in the matter of + his property; this is the next point to be considered. The lover will be + the first to see what, indeed, will be sufficiently evident to all men, + that he desires above all things to deprive his beloved of his dearest and + best and holiest possessions, father, mother, kindred, friends, of all + whom he thinks may be hinderers or reprovers of their most sweet converse; + he will even cast a jealous eye upon his gold and silver or other + property, because these make him a less easy prey, and when caught less + manageable; hence he is of necessity displeased at his possession of them + and rejoices at their loss; and he would like him to be wifeless, + childless, homeless, as well; and the longer the better, for the longer he + is all this, the longer he will enjoy him. + </p> + <p> + There are some sort of animals, such as flatterers, who are dangerous and + mischievous enough, and yet nature has mingled a temporary pleasure and + grace in their composition. You may say that a courtesan is hurtful, and + disapprove of such creatures and their practices, and yet for the time + they are very pleasant. But the lover is not only hurtful to his love; he + is also an extremely disagreeable companion. The old proverb says that + 'birds of a feather flock together'; I suppose that equality of years + inclines them to the same pleasures, and similarity begets friendship; yet + you may have more than enough even of this; and verily constraint is + always said to be grievous. Now the lover is not only unlike his beloved, + but he forces himself upon him. For he is old and his love is young, and + neither day nor night will he leave him if he can help; necessity and the + sting of desire drive him on, and allure him with the pleasure which he + receives from seeing, hearing, touching, perceiving him in every way. And + therefore he is delighted to fasten upon him and to minister to him. But + what pleasure or consolation can the beloved be receiving all this time? + Must he not feel the extremity of disgust when he looks at an old + shrivelled face and the remainder to match, which even in a description is + disagreeable, and quite detestable when he is forced into daily contact + with his lover; moreover he is jealously watched and guarded against + everything and everybody, and has to hear misplaced and exaggerated + praises of himself, and censures equally inappropriate, which are + intolerable when the man is sober, and, besides being intolerable, are + published all over the world in all their indelicacy and wearisomeness + when he is drunk. + </p> + <p> + And not only while his love continues is he mischievous and unpleasant, + but when his love ceases he becomes a perfidious enemy of him on whom he + showered his oaths and prayers and promises, and yet could hardly prevail + upon him to tolerate the tedium of his company even from motives of + interest. The hour of payment arrives, and now he is the servant of + another master; instead of love and infatuation, wisdom and temperance are + his bosom's lords; but the beloved has not discovered the change which has + taken place in him, when he asks for a return and recalls to his + recollection former sayings and doings; he believes himself to be speaking + to the same person, and the other, not having the courage to confess the + truth, and not knowing how to fulfil the oaths and promises which he made + when under the dominion of folly, and having now grown wise and temperate, + does not want to do as he did or to be as he was before. And so he runs + away and is constrained to be a defaulter; the oyster-shell (In allusion + to a game in which two parties fled or pursued according as an + oyster-shell which was thrown into the air fell with the dark or light + side uppermost.) has fallen with the other side uppermost—he changes + pursuit into flight, while the other is compelled to follow him with + passion and imprecation, not knowing that he ought never from the first to + have accepted a demented lover instead of a sensible non-lover; and that + in making such a choice he was giving himself up to a faithless, morose, + envious, disagreeable being, hurtful to his estate, hurtful to his bodily + health, and still more hurtful to the cultivation of his mind, than which + there neither is nor ever will be anything more honoured in the eyes both + of gods and men. Consider this, fair youth, and know that in the + friendship of the lover there is no real kindness; he has an appetite and + wants to feed upon you: + </p> + <p> + 'As wolves love lambs so lovers love their loves.' + </p> + <p> + But I told you so, I am speaking in verse, and therefore I had better make + an end; enough. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I thought that you were only half-way and were going to make a + similar speech about all the advantages of accepting the non-lover. Why do + you not proceed? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Does not your simplicity observe that I have got out of + dithyrambics into heroics, when only uttering a censure on the lover? And + if I am to add the praises of the non-lover what will become of me? Do you + not perceive that I am already overtaken by the Nymphs to whom you have + mischievously exposed me? And therefore I will only add that the non-lover + has all the advantages in which the lover is accused of being deficient. + And now I will say no more; there has been enough of both of them. Leaving + the tale to its fate, I will cross the river and make the best of my way + home, lest a worse thing be inflicted upon me by you. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Not yet, Socrates; not until the heat of the day has passed; do + you not see that the hour is almost noon? there is the midday sun standing + still, as people say, in the meridian. Let us rather stay and talk over + what has been said, and then return in the cool. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Your love of discourse, Phaedrus, is superhuman, simply + marvellous, and I do not believe that there is any one of your + contemporaries who has either made or in one way or another has compelled + others to make an equal number of speeches. I would except Simmias the + Theban, but all the rest are far behind you. And now I do verily believe + that you have been the cause of another. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: That is good news. But what do you mean? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I mean to say that as I was about to cross the stream the usual + sign was given to me,—that sign which always forbids, but never + bids, me to do anything which I am going to do; and I thought that I heard + a voice saying in my ear that I had been guilty of impiety, and that I + must not go away until I had made an atonement. Now I am a diviner, though + not a very good one, but I have enough religion for my own use, as you + might say of a bad writer—his writing is good enough for him; and I + am beginning to see that I was in error. O my friend, how prophetic is the + human soul! At the time I had a sort of misgiving, and, like Ibycus, 'I + was troubled; I feared that I might be buying honour from men at the price + of sinning against the gods.' Now I recognize my error. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: What error? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: That was a dreadful speech which you brought with you, and you + made me utter one as bad. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: How so? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: It was foolish, I say,—to a certain extent, impious; can + anything be more dreadful? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Nothing, if the speech was really such as you describe. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Well, and is not Eros the son of Aphrodite, and a god? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: So men say. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: But that was not acknowledged by Lysias in his speech, nor by + you in that other speech which you by a charm drew from my lips. For if + love be, as he surely is, a divinity, he cannot be evil. Yet this was the + error of both the speeches. There was also a simplicity about them which + was refreshing; having no truth or honesty in them, nevertheless they + pretended to be something, hoping to succeed in deceiving the manikins of + earth and gain celebrity among them. Wherefore I must have a purgation. + And I bethink me of an ancient purgation of mythological error which was + devised, not by Homer, for he never had the wit to discover why he was + blind, but by Stesichorus, who was a philosopher and knew the reason why; + and therefore, when he lost his eyes, for that was the penalty which was + inflicted upon him for reviling the lovely Helen, he at once purged + himself. And the purgation was a recantation, which began thus,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'False is that word of mine—the truth is that thou didst not embark in + ships, nor ever go to the walls of Troy;' +</pre> + <p> + and when he had completed his poem, which is called 'the recantation,' + immediately his sight returned to him. Now I will be wiser than either + Stesichorus or Homer, in that I am going to make my recantation for + reviling love before I suffer; and this I will attempt, not as before, + veiled and ashamed, but with forehead bold and bare. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Nothing could be more agreeable to me than to hear you say so. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Only think, my good Phaedrus, what an utter want of delicacy was + shown in the two discourses; I mean, in my own and in that which you + recited out of the book. Would not any one who was himself of a noble and + gentle nature, and who loved or ever had loved a nature like his own, when + we tell of the petty causes of lovers' jealousies, and of their exceeding + animosities, and of the injuries which they do to their beloved, have + imagined that our ideas of love were taken from some haunt of sailors to + which good manners were unknown—he would certainly never have + admitted the justice of our censure? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I dare say not, Socrates. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Therefore, because I blush at the thought of this person, and + also because I am afraid of Love himself, I desire to wash the brine out + of my ears with water from the spring; and I would counsel Lysias not to + delay, but to write another discourse, which shall prove that 'ceteris + paribus' the lover ought to be accepted rather than the non-lover. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Be assured that he shall. You shall speak the praises of the + lover, and Lysias shall be compelled by me to write another discourse on + the same theme. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: You will be true to your nature in that, and therefore I believe + you. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Speak, and fear not. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: But where is the fair youth whom I was addressing before, and + who ought to listen now; lest, if he hear me not, he should accept a + non-lover before he knows what he is doing? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: He is close at hand, and always at your service. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Know then, fair youth, that the former discourse was the word of + Phaedrus, the son of Vain Man, who dwells in the city of Myrrhina + (Myrrhinusius). And this which I am about to utter is the recantation of + Stesichorus the son of Godly Man (Euphemus), who comes from the town of + Desire (Himera), and is to the following effect: 'I told a lie when I + said' that the beloved ought to accept the non-lover when he might have + the lover, because the one is sane, and the other mad. It might be so if + madness were simply an evil; but there is also a madness which is a divine + gift, and the source of the chiefest blessings granted to men. For + prophecy is a madness, and the prophetess at Delphi and the priestesses at + Dodona when out of their senses have conferred great benefits on Hellas, + both in public and private life, but when in their senses few or none. And + I might also tell you how the Sibyl and other inspired persons have given + to many an one many an intimation of the future which has saved them from + falling. But it would be tedious to speak of what every one knows. + </p> + <p> + There will be more reason in appealing to the ancient inventors of names + (compare Cratylus), who would never have connected prophecy (mantike) + which foretells the future and is the noblest of arts, with madness + (manike), or called them both by the same name, if they had deemed madness + to be a disgrace or dishonour;—they must have thought that there was + an inspired madness which was a noble thing; for the two words, mantike + and manike, are really the same, and the letter tau is only a modern and + tasteless insertion. And this is confirmed by the name which was given by + them to the rational investigation of futurity, whether made by the help + of birds or of other signs—this, for as much as it is an art which + supplies from the reasoning faculty mind (nous) and information (istoria) + to human thought (oiesis) they originally termed oionoistike, but the word + has been lately altered and made sonorous by the modern introduction of + the letter Omega (oionoistike and oionistike), and in proportion as + prophecy (mantike) is more perfect and august than augury, both in name + and fact, in the same proportion, as the ancients testify, is madness + superior to a sane mind (sophrosune) for the one is only of human, but the + other of divine origin. Again, where plagues and mightiest woes have bred + in certain families, owing to some ancient blood-guiltiness, there madness + has entered with holy prayers and rites, and by inspired utterances found + a way of deliverance for those who are in need; and he who has part in + this gift, and is truly possessed and duly out of his mind, is by the use + of purifications and mysteries made whole and exempt from evil, future as + well as present, and has a release from the calamity which was afflicting + him. The third kind is the madness of those who are possessed by the + Muses; which taking hold of a delicate and virgin soul, and there + inspiring frenzy, awakens lyrical and all other numbers; with these + adorning the myriad actions of ancient heroes for the instruction of + posterity. But he who, having no touch of the Muses' madness in his soul, + comes to the door and thinks that he will get into the temple by the help + of art—he, I say, and his poetry are not admitted; the sane man + disappears and is nowhere when he enters into rivalry with the madman. + </p> + <p> + I might tell of many other noble deeds which have sprung from inspired + madness. And therefore, let no one frighten or flutter us by saying that + the temperate friend is to be chosen rather than the inspired, but let him + further show that love is not sent by the gods for any good to lover or + beloved; if he can do so we will allow him to carry off the palm. And we, + on our part, will prove in answer to him that the madness of love is the + greatest of heaven's blessings, and the proof shall be one which the wise + will receive, and the witling disbelieve. But first of all, let us view + the affections and actions of the soul divine and human, and try to + ascertain the truth about them. The beginning of our proof is as follows:— + </p> + <p> + (Translated by Cic. Tus. Quaest.) The soul through all her being is + immortal, for that which is ever in motion is immortal; but that which + moves another and is moved by another, in ceasing to move ceases also to + live. Only the self-moving, never leaving self, never ceases to move, and + is the fountain and beginning of motion to all that moves besides. Now, + the beginning is unbegotten, for that which is begotten has a beginning; + but the beginning is begotten of nothing, for if it were begotten of + something, then the begotten would not come from a beginning. But if + unbegotten, it must also be indestructible; for if beginning were + destroyed, there could be no beginning out of anything, nor anything out + of a beginning; and all things must have a beginning. And therefore the + self-moving is the beginning of motion; and this can neither be destroyed + nor begotten, else the whole heavens and all creation would collapse and + stand still, and never again have motion or birth. But if the self-moving + is proved to be immortal, he who affirms that self-motion is the very idea + and essence of the soul will not be put to confusion. For the body which + is moved from without is soulless; but that which is moved from within has + a soul, for such is the nature of the soul. But if this be true, must not + the soul be the self-moving, and therefore of necessity unbegotten and + immortal? Enough of the soul's immortality. + </p> + <p> + Of the nature of the soul, though her true form be ever a theme of large + and more than mortal discourse, let me speak briefly, and in a figure. And + let the figure be composite—a pair of winged horses and a + charioteer. Now the winged horses and the charioteers of the gods are all + of them noble and of noble descent, but those of other races are mixed; + the human charioteer drives his in a pair; and one of them is noble and of + noble breed, and the other is ignoble and of ignoble breed; and the + driving of them of necessity gives a great deal of trouble to him. I will + endeavour to explain to you in what way the mortal differs from the + immortal creature. The soul in her totality has the care of inanimate + being everywhere, and traverses the whole heaven in divers forms appearing—when + perfect and fully winged she soars upward, and orders the whole world; + whereas the imperfect soul, losing her wings and drooping in her flight at + last settles on the solid ground—there, finding a home, she receives + an earthly frame which appears to be self-moved, but is really moved by + her power; and this composition of soul and body is called a living and + mortal creature. For immortal no such union can be reasonably believed to + be; although fancy, not having seen nor surely known the nature of God, + may imagine an immortal creature having both a body and also a soul which + are united throughout all time. Let that, however, be as God wills, and be + spoken of acceptably to him. And now let us ask the reason why the soul + loses her wings! + </p> + <p> + The wing is the corporeal element which is most akin to the divine, and + which by nature tends to soar aloft and carry that which gravitates + downwards into the upper region, which is the habitation of the gods. The + divine is beauty, wisdom, goodness, and the like; and by these the wing of + the soul is nourished, and grows apace; but when fed upon evil and + foulness and the opposite of good, wastes and falls away. Zeus, the mighty + lord, holding the reins of a winged chariot, leads the way in heaven, + ordering all and taking care of all; and there follows him the array of + gods and demi-gods, marshalled in eleven bands; Hestia alone abides at + home in the house of heaven; of the rest they who are reckoned among the + princely twelve march in their appointed order. They see many blessed + sights in the inner heaven, and there are many ways to and fro, along + which the blessed gods are passing, every one doing his own work; he may + follow who will and can, for jealousy has no place in the celestial choir. + But when they go to banquet and festival, then they move up the steep to + the top of the vault of heaven. The chariots of the gods in even poise, + obeying the rein, glide rapidly; but the others labour, for the vicious + steed goes heavily, weighing down the charioteer to the earth when his + steed has not been thoroughly trained:—and this is the hour of agony + and extremest conflict for the soul. For the immortals, when they are at + the end of their course, go forth and stand upon the outside of heaven, + and the revolution of the spheres carries them round, and they behold the + things beyond. But of the heaven which is above the heavens, what earthly + poet ever did or ever will sing worthily? It is such as I will describe; + for I must dare to speak the truth, when truth is my theme. There abides + the very being with which true knowledge is concerned; the colourless, + formless, intangible essence, visible only to mind, the pilot of the soul. + The divine intelligence, being nurtured upon mind and pure knowledge, and + the intelligence of every soul which is capable of receiving the food + proper to it, rejoices at beholding reality, and once more gazing upon + truth, is replenished and made glad, until the revolution of the worlds + brings her round again to the same place. In the revolution she beholds + justice, and temperance, and knowledge absolute, not in the form of + generation or of relation, which men call existence, but knowledge + absolute in existence absolute; and beholding the other true existences in + like manner, and feasting upon them, she passes down into the interior of + the heavens and returns home; and there the charioteer putting up his + horses at the stall, gives them ambrosia to eat and nectar to drink. + </p> + <p> + Such is the life of the gods; but of other souls, that which follows God + best and is likest to him lifts the head of the charioteer into the outer + world, and is carried round in the revolution, troubled indeed by the + steeds, and with difficulty beholding true being; while another only rises + and falls, and sees, and again fails to see by reason of the unruliness of + the steeds. The rest of the souls are also longing after the upper world + and they all follow, but not being strong enough they are carried round + below the surface, plunging, treading on one another, each striving to be + first; and there is confusion and perspiration and the extremity of + effort; and many of them are lamed or have their wings broken through the + ill-driving of the charioteers; and all of them after a fruitless toil, + not having attained to the mysteries of true being, go away, and feed upon + opinion. The reason why the souls exhibit this exceeding eagerness to + behold the plain of truth is that pasturage is found there, which is + suited to the highest part of the soul; and the wing on which the soul + soars is nourished with this. And there is a law of Destiny, that the soul + which attains any vision of truth in company with a god is preserved from + harm until the next period, and if attaining always is always unharmed. + But when she is unable to follow, and fails to behold the truth, and + through some ill-hap sinks beneath the double load of forgetfulness and + vice, and her wings fall from her and she drops to the ground, then the + law ordains that this soul shall at her first birth pass, not into any + other animal, but only into man; and the soul which has seen most of truth + shall come to the birth as a philosopher, or artist, or some musical and + loving nature; that which has seen truth in the second degree shall be + some righteous king or warrior chief; the soul which is of the third class + shall be a politician, or economist, or trader; the fourth shall be a + lover of gymnastic toils, or a physician; the fifth shall lead the life of + a prophet or hierophant; to the sixth the character of poet or some other + imitative artist will be assigned; to the seventh the life of an artisan + or husbandman; to the eighth that of a sophist or demagogue; to the ninth + that of a tyrant—all these are states of probation, in which he who + does righteously improves, and he who does unrighteously, deteriorates his + lot. + </p> + <p> + Ten thousand years must elapse before the soul of each one can return to + the place from whence she came, for she cannot grow her wings in less; + only the soul of a philosopher, guileless and true, or the soul of a + lover, who is not devoid of philosophy, may acquire wings in the third of + the recurring periods of a thousand years; he is distinguished from the + ordinary good man who gains wings in three thousand years:—and they + who choose this life three times in succession have wings given them, and + go away at the end of three thousand years. But the others (The + philosopher alone is not subject to judgment (krisis), for he has never + lost the vision of truth.) receive judgment when they have completed their + first life, and after the judgment they go, some of them to the houses of + correction which are under the earth, and are punished; others to some + place in heaven whither they are lightly borne by justice, and there they + live in a manner worthy of the life which they led here when in the form + of men. And at the end of the first thousand years the good souls and also + the evil souls both come to draw lots and choose their second life, and + they may take any which they please. The soul of a man may pass into the + life of a beast, or from the beast return again into the man. But the soul + which has never seen the truth will not pass into the human form. For a + man must have intelligence of universals, and be able to proceed from the + many particulars of sense to one conception of reason;—this is the + recollection of those things which our soul once saw while following God—when + regardless of that which we now call being she raised her head up towards + the true being. And therefore the mind of the philosopher alone has wings; + and this is just, for he is always, according to the measure of his + abilities, clinging in recollection to those things in which God abides, + and in beholding which He is what He is. And he who employs aright these + memories is ever being initiated into perfect mysteries and alone becomes + truly perfect. But, as he forgets earthly interests and is rapt in the + divine, the vulgar deem him mad, and rebuke him; they do not see that he + is inspired. + </p> + <p> + Thus far I have been speaking of the fourth and last kind of madness, + which is imputed to him who, when he sees the beauty of earth, is + transported with the recollection of the true beauty; he would like to fly + away, but he cannot; he is like a bird fluttering and looking upward and + careless of the world below; and he is therefore thought to be mad. And I + have shown this of all inspirations to be the noblest and highest and the + offspring of the highest to him who has or shares in it, and that he who + loves the beautiful is called a lover because he partakes of it. For, as + has been already said, every soul of man has in the way of nature beheld + true being; this was the condition of her passing into the form of man. + But all souls do not easily recall the things of the other world; they may + have seen them for a short time only, or they may have been unfortunate in + their earthly lot, and, having had their hearts turned to unrighteousness + through some corrupting influence, they may have lost the memory of the + holy things which once they saw. Few only retain an adequate remembrance + of them; and they, when they behold here any image of that other world, + are rapt in amazement; but they are ignorant of what this rapture means, + because they do not clearly perceive. For there is no light of justice or + temperance or any of the higher ideas which are precious to souls in the + earthly copies of them: they are seen through a glass dimly; and there are + few who, going to the images, behold in them the realities, and these only + with difficulty. There was a time when with the rest of the happy band + they saw beauty shining in brightness,—we philosophers following in + the train of Zeus, others in company with other gods; and then we beheld + the beatific vision and were initiated into a mystery which may be truly + called most blessed, celebrated by us in our state of innocence, before we + had any experience of evils to come, when we were admitted to the sight of + apparitions innocent and simple and calm and happy, which we beheld + shining in pure light, pure ourselves and not yet enshrined in that living + tomb which we carry about, now that we are imprisoned in the body, like an + oyster in his shell. Let me linger over the memory of scenes which have + passed away. + </p> + <p> + But of beauty, I repeat again that we saw her there shining in company + with the celestial forms; and coming to earth we find her here too, + shining in clearness through the clearest aperture of sense. For sight is + the most piercing of our bodily senses; though not by that is wisdom seen; + her loveliness would have been transporting if there had been a visible + image of her, and the other ideas, if they had visible counterparts, would + be equally lovely. But this is the privilege of beauty, that being the + loveliest she is also the most palpable to sight. Now he who is not newly + initiated or who has become corrupted, does not easily rise out of this + world to the sight of true beauty in the other; he looks only at her + earthly namesake, and instead of being awed at the sight of her, he is + given over to pleasure, and like a brutish beast he rushes on to enjoy and + beget; he consorts with wantonness, and is not afraid or ashamed of + pursuing pleasure in violation of nature. But he whose initiation is + recent, and who has been the spectator of many glories in the other world, + is amazed when he sees any one having a godlike face or form, which is the + expression of divine beauty; and at first a shudder runs through him, and + again the old awe steals over him; then looking upon the face of his + beloved as of a god he reverences him, and if he were not afraid of being + thought a downright madman, he would sacrifice to his beloved as to the + image of a god; then while he gazes on him there is a sort of reaction, + and the shudder passes into an unusual heat and perspiration; for, as he + receives the effluence of beauty through the eyes, the wing moistens and + he warms. And as he warms, the parts out of which the wing grew, and which + had been hitherto closed and rigid, and had prevented the wing from + shooting forth, are melted, and as nourishment streams upon him, the lower + end of the wing begins to swell and grow from the root upwards; and the + growth extends under the whole soul—for once the whole was winged. + During this process the whole soul is all in a state of ebullition and + effervescence,—which may be compared to the irritation and + uneasiness in the gums at the time of cutting teeth,—bubbles up, and + has a feeling of uneasiness and tickling; but when in like manner the soul + is beginning to grow wings, the beauty of the beloved meets her eye and + she receives the sensible warm motion of particles which flow towards her, + therefore called emotion (imeros), and is refreshed and warmed by them, + and then she ceases from her pain with joy. But when she is parted from + her beloved and her moisture fails, then the orifices of the passage out + of which the wing shoots dry up and close, and intercept the germ of the + wing; which, being shut up with the emotion, throbbing as with the + pulsations of an artery, pricks the aperture which is nearest, until at + length the entire soul is pierced and maddened and pained, and at the + recollection of beauty is again delighted. And from both of them together + the soul is oppressed at the strangeness of her condition, and is in a + great strait and excitement, and in her madness can neither sleep by night + nor abide in her place by day. And wherever she thinks that she will + behold the beautiful one, thither in her desire she runs. And when she has + seen him, and bathed herself in the waters of beauty, her constraint is + loosened, and she is refreshed, and has no more pangs and pains; and this + is the sweetest of all pleasures at the time, and is the reason why the + soul of the lover will never forsake his beautiful one, whom he esteems + above all; he has forgotten mother and brethren and companions, and he + thinks nothing of the neglect and loss of his property; the rules and + proprieties of life, on which he formerly prided himself, he now despises, + and is ready to sleep like a servant, wherever he is allowed, as near as + he can to his desired one, who is the object of his worship, and the + physician who can alone assuage the greatness of his pain. And this state, + my dear imaginary youth to whom I am talking, is by men called love, and + among the gods has a name at which you, in your simplicity, may be + inclined to mock; there are two lines in the apocryphal writings of Homer + in which the name occurs. One of them is rather outrageous, and not + altogether metrical. They are as follows: + </p> + <p> + 'Mortals call him fluttering love, But the immortals call him winged one, + Because the growing of wings (Or, reading pterothoiton, 'the movement of + wings.') is a necessity to him.' + </p> + <p> + You may believe this, but not unless you like. At any rate the loves of + lovers and their causes are such as I have described. + </p> + <p> + Now the lover who is taken to be the attendant of Zeus is better able to + bear the winged god, and can endure a heavier burden; but the attendants + and companions of Ares, when under the influence of love, if they fancy + that they have been at all wronged, are ready to kill and put an end to + themselves and their beloved. And he who follows in the train of any other + god, while he is unspoiled and the impression lasts, honours and imitates + him, as far as he is able; and after the manner of his God he behaves in + his intercourse with his beloved and with the rest of the world during the + first period of his earthly existence. Every one chooses his love from the + ranks of beauty according to his character, and this he makes his god, and + fashions and adorns as a sort of image which he is to fall down and + worship. The followers of Zeus desire that their beloved should have a + soul like him; and therefore they seek out some one of a philosophical and + imperial nature, and when they have found him and loved him, they do all + they can to confirm such a nature in him, and if they have no experience + of such a disposition hitherto, they learn of any one who can teach them, + and themselves follow in the same way. And they have the less difficulty + in finding the nature of their own god in themselves, because they have + been compelled to gaze intensely on him; their recollection clings to him, + and they become possessed of him, and receive from him their character and + disposition, so far as man can participate in God. The qualities of their + god they attribute to the beloved, wherefore they love him all the more, + and if, like the Bacchic Nymphs, they draw inspiration from Zeus, they + pour out their own fountain upon him, wanting to make him as like as + possible to their own god. But those who are the followers of Here seek a + royal love, and when they have found him they do just the same with him; + and in like manner the followers of Apollo, and of every other god walking + in the ways of their god, seek a love who is to be made like him whom they + serve, and when they have found him, they themselves imitate their god, + and persuade their love to do the same, and educate him into the manner + and nature of the god as far as they each can; for no feelings of envy or + jealousy are entertained by them towards their beloved, but they do their + utmost to create in him the greatest likeness of themselves and of the god + whom they honour. Thus fair and blissful to the beloved is the desire of + the inspired lover, and the initiation of which I speak into the mysteries + of true love, if he be captured by the lover and their purpose is + effected. Now the beloved is taken captive in the following manner:— + </p> + <p> + As I said at the beginning of this tale, I divided each soul into three—two + horses and a charioteer; and one of the horses was good and the other bad: + the division may remain, but I have not yet explained in what the goodness + or badness of either consists, and to that I will now proceed. The + right-hand horse is upright and cleanly made; he has a lofty neck and an + aquiline nose; his colour is white, and his eyes dark; he is a lover of + honour and modesty and temperance, and the follower of true glory; he + needs no touch of the whip, but is guided by word and admonition only. The + other is a crooked lumbering animal, put together anyhow; he has a short + thick neck; he is flat-faced and of a dark colour, with grey eyes and + blood-red complexion (Or with grey and blood-shot eyes.); the mate of + insolence and pride, shag-eared and deaf, hardly yielding to whip and + spur. Now when the charioteer beholds the vision of love, and has his + whole soul warmed through sense, and is full of the prickings and + ticklings of desire, the obedient steed, then as always under the + government of shame, refrains from leaping on the beloved; but the other, + heedless of the pricks and of the blows of the whip, plunges and runs + away, giving all manner of trouble to his companion and the charioteer, + whom he forces to approach the beloved and to remember the joys of love. + They at first indignantly oppose him and will not be urged on to do + terrible and unlawful deeds; but at last, when he persists in plaguing + them, they yield and agree to do as he bids them. And now they are at the + spot and behold the flashing beauty of the beloved; which when the + charioteer sees, his memory is carried to the true beauty, whom he beholds + in company with Modesty like an image placed upon a holy pedestal. He sees + her, but he is afraid and falls backwards in adoration, and by his fall is + compelled to pull back the reins with such violence as to bring both the + steeds on their haunches, the one willing and unresisting, the unruly one + very unwilling; and when they have gone back a little, the one is overcome + with shame and wonder, and his whole soul is bathed in perspiration; the + other, when the pain is over which the bridle and the fall had given him, + having with difficulty taken breath, is full of wrath and reproaches, + which he heaps upon the charioteer and his fellow-steed, for want of + courage and manhood, declaring that they have been false to their + agreement and guilty of desertion. Again they refuse, and again he urges + them on, and will scarce yield to their prayer that he would wait until + another time. When the appointed hour comes, they make as if they had + forgotten, and he reminds them, fighting and neighing and dragging them + on, until at length he on the same thoughts intent, forces them to draw + near again. And when they are near he stoops his head and puts up his + tail, and takes the bit in his teeth and pulls shamelessly. Then the + charioteer is worse off than ever; he falls back like a racer at the + barrier, and with a still more violent wrench drags the bit out of the + teeth of the wild steed and covers his abusive tongue and jaws with blood, + and forces his legs and haunches to the ground and punishes him sorely. + And when this has happened several times and the villain has ceased from + his wanton way, he is tamed and humbled, and follows the will of the + charioteer, and when he sees the beautiful one he is ready to die of fear. + And from that time forward the soul of the lover follows the beloved in + modesty and holy fear. + </p> + <p> + And so the beloved who, like a god, has received every true and loyal + service from his lover, not in pretence but in reality, being also himself + of a nature friendly to his admirer, if in former days he has blushed to + own his passion and turned away his lover, because his youthful companions + or others slanderously told him that he would be disgraced, now as years + advance, at the appointed age and time, is led to receive him into + communion. For fate which has ordained that there shall be no friendship + among the evil has also ordained that there shall ever be friendship among + the good. And the beloved when he has received him into communion and + intimacy, is quite amazed at the good-will of the lover; he recognises + that the inspired friend is worth all other friends or kinsmen; they have + nothing of friendship in them worthy to be compared with his. And when + this feeling continues and he is nearer to him and embraces him, in + gymnastic exercises and at other times of meeting, then the fountain of + that stream, which Zeus when he was in love with Ganymede named Desire, + overflows upon the lover, and some enters into his soul, and some when he + is filled flows out again; and as a breeze or an echo rebounds from the + smooth rocks and returns whence it came, so does the stream of beauty, + passing through the eyes which are the windows of the soul, come back to + the beautiful one; there arriving and quickening the passages of the + wings, watering them and inclining them to grow, and filling the soul of + the beloved also with love. And thus he loves, but he knows not what; he + does not understand and cannot explain his own state; he appears to have + caught the infection of blindness from another; the lover is his mirror in + whom he is beholding himself, but he is not aware of this. When he is with + the lover, both cease from their pain, but when he is away then he longs + as he is longed for, and has love's image, love for love (Anteros) lodging + in his breast, which he calls and believes to be not love but friendship + only, and his desire is as the desire of the other, but weaker; he wants + to see him, touch him, kiss him, embrace him, and probably not long + afterwards his desire is accomplished. When they meet, the wanton steed of + the lover has a word to say to the charioteer; he would like to have a + little pleasure in return for many pains, but the wanton steed of the + beloved says not a word, for he is bursting with passion which he + understands not;—he throws his arms round the lover and embraces him + as his dearest friend; and, when they are side by side, he is not in a + state in which he can refuse the lover anything, if he ask him; although + his fellow-steed and the charioteer oppose him with the arguments of shame + and reason. After this their happiness depends upon their self-control; if + the better elements of the mind which lead to order and philosophy + prevail, then they pass their life here in happiness and harmony—masters + of themselves and orderly—enslaving the vicious and emancipating the + virtuous elements of the soul; and when the end comes, they are light and + winged for flight, having conquered in one of the three heavenly or truly + Olympian victories; nor can human discipline or divine inspiration confer + any greater blessing on man than this. If, on the other hand, they leave + philosophy and lead the lower life of ambition, then probably, after wine + or in some other careless hour, the two wanton animals take the two souls + when off their guard and bring them together, and they accomplish that + desire of their hearts which to the many is bliss; and this having once + enjoyed they continue to enjoy, yet rarely because they have not the + approval of the whole soul. They too are dear, but not so dear to one + another as the others, either at the time of their love or afterwards. + They consider that they have given and taken from each other the most + sacred pledges, and they may not break them and fall into enmity. At last + they pass out of the body, unwinged, but eager to soar, and thus obtain no + mean reward of love and madness. For those who have once begun the + heavenward pilgrimage may not go down again to darkness and the journey + beneath the earth, but they live in light always; happy companions in + their pilgrimage, and when the time comes at which they receive their + wings they have the same plumage because of their love. + </p> + <p> + Thus great are the heavenly blessings which the friendship of a lover will + confer upon you, my youth. Whereas the attachment of the non-lover, which + is alloyed with a worldly prudence and has worldly and niggardly ways of + doling out benefits, will breed in your soul those vulgar qualities which + the populace applaud, will send you bowling round the earth during a + period of nine thousand years, and leave you a fool in the world below. + </p> + <p> + And thus, dear Eros, I have made and paid my recantation, as well and as + fairly as I could; more especially in the matter of the poetical figures + which I was compelled to use, because Phaedrus would have them. And now + forgive the past and accept the present, and be gracious and merciful to + me, and do not in thine anger deprive me of sight, or take from me the art + of love which thou hast given me, but grant that I may be yet more + esteemed in the eyes of the fair. And if Phaedrus or I myself said + anything rude in our first speeches, blame Lysias, who is the father of + the brat, and let us have no more of his progeny; bid him study + philosophy, like his brother Polemarchus; and then his lover Phaedrus will + no longer halt between two opinions, but will dedicate himself wholly to + love and to philosophical discourses. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I join in the prayer, Socrates, and say with you, if this be for + my good, may your words come to pass. But why did you make your second + oration so much finer than the first? I wonder why. And I begin to be + afraid that I shall lose conceit of Lysias, and that he will appear tame + in comparison, even if he be willing to put another as fine and as long as + yours into the field, which I doubt. For quite lately one of your + politicians was abusing him on this very account; and called him a 'speech + writer' again and again. So that a feeling of pride may probably induce + him to give up writing speeches. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: What a very amusing notion! But I think, my young man, that you + are much mistaken in your friend if you imagine that he is frightened at a + little noise; and, possibly, you think that his assailant was in earnest? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I thought, Socrates, that he was. And you are aware that the + greatest and most influential statesmen are ashamed of writing speeches + and leaving them in a written form, lest they should be called Sophists by + posterity. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: You seem to be unconscious, Phaedrus, that the 'sweet elbow' (A + proverb, like 'the grapes are sour,' applied to pleasures which cannot be + had, meaning sweet things which, like the elbow, are out of the reach of + the mouth. The promised pleasure turns out to be a long and tedious + affair.) of the proverb is really the long arm of the Nile. And you appear + to be equally unaware of the fact that this sweet elbow of theirs is also + a long arm. For there is nothing of which our great politicians are so + fond as of writing speeches and bequeathing them to posterity. And they + add their admirers' names at the top of the writing, out of gratitude to + them. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: What do you mean? I do not understand. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Why, do you not know that when a politician writes, he begins + with the names of his approvers? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: How so? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Why, he begins in this manner: 'Be it enacted by the senate, the + people, or both, on the motion of a certain person,' who is our author; + and so putting on a serious face, he proceeds to display his own wisdom to + his admirers in what is often a long and tedious composition. Now what is + that sort of thing but a regular piece of authorship? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: True. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And if the law is finally approved, then the author leaves the + theatre in high delight; but if the law is rejected and he is done out of + his speech-making, and not thought good enough to write, then he and his + party are in mourning. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Very true. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: So far are they from despising, or rather so highly do they + value the practice of writing. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: No doubt. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And when the king or orator has the power, as Lycurgus or Solon + or Darius had, of attaining an immortality or authorship in a state, is he + not thought by posterity, when they see his compositions, and does he not + think himself, while he is yet alive, to be a god? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Very true. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Then do you think that any one of this class, however + ill-disposed, would reproach Lysias with being an author? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Not upon your view; for according to you he would be casting a + slur upon his own favourite pursuit. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Any one may see that there is no disgrace in the mere fact of + writing. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Certainly not. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: The disgrace begins when a man writes not well, but badly. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Clearly. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And what is well and what is badly—need we ask Lysias, or + any other poet or orator, who ever wrote or will write either a political + or any other work, in metre or out of metre, poet or prose writer, to + teach us this? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Need we? For what should a man live if not for the pleasures of + discourse? Surely not for the sake of bodily pleasures, which almost + always have previous pain as a condition of them, and therefore are + rightly called slavish. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: There is time enough. And I believe that the grasshoppers + chirruping after their manner in the heat of the sun over our heads are + talking to one another and looking down at us. What would they say if they + saw that we, like the many, are not conversing, but slumbering at mid-day, + lulled by their voices, too indolent to think? Would they not have a right + to laugh at us? They might imagine that we were slaves, who, coming to + rest at a place of resort of theirs, like sheep lie asleep at noon around + the well. But if they see us discoursing, and like Odysseus sailing past + them, deaf to their siren voices, they may perhaps, out of respect, give + us of the gifts which they receive from the gods that they may impart them + to men. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: What gifts do you mean? I never heard of any. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: A lover of music like yourself ought surely to have heard the + story of the grasshoppers, who are said to have been human beings in an + age before the Muses. And when the Muses came and song appeared they were + ravished with delight; and singing always, never thought of eating and + drinking, until at last in their forgetfulness they died. And now they + live again in the grasshoppers; and this is the return which the Muses + make to them—they neither hunger, nor thirst, but from the hour of + their birth are always singing, and never eating or drinking; and when + they die they go and inform the Muses in heaven who honours them on earth. + They win the love of Terpsichore for the dancers by their report of them; + of Erato for the lovers, and of the other Muses for those who do them + honour, according to the several ways of honouring them;—of Calliope + the eldest Muse and of Urania who is next to her, for the philosophers, of + whose music the grasshoppers make report to them; for these are the Muses + who are chiefly concerned with heaven and thought, divine as well as + human, and they have the sweetest utterance. For many reasons, then, we + ought always to talk and not to sleep at mid-day. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Let us talk. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Shall we discuss the rules of writing and speech as we were + proposing? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Very good. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: In good speaking should not the mind of the speaker know the + truth of the matter about which he is going to speak? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: And yet, Socrates, I have heard that he who would be an orator + has nothing to do with true justice, but only with that which is likely to + be approved by the many who sit in judgment; nor with the truly good or + honourable, but only with opinion about them, and that from opinion comes + persuasion, and not from the truth. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: The words of the wise are not to be set aside; for there is + probably something in them; and therefore the meaning of this saying is + not hastily to be dismissed. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Very true. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Let us put the matter thus:—Suppose that I persuaded you + to buy a horse and go to the wars. Neither of us knew what a horse was + like, but I knew that you believed a horse to be of tame animals the one + which has the longest ears. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: That would be ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: There is something more ridiculous coming:—Suppose, + further, that in sober earnest I, having persuaded you of this, went and + composed a speech in honour of an ass, whom I entitled a horse beginning: + 'A noble animal and a most useful possession, especially in war, and you + may get on his back and fight, and he will carry baggage or anything.' + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: How ridiculous! + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Ridiculous! Yes; but is not even a ridiculous friend better than + a cunning enemy? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And when the orator instead of putting an ass in the place of a + horse, puts good for evil, being himself as ignorant of their true nature + as the city on which he imposes is ignorant; and having studied the + notions of the multitude, falsely persuades them not about 'the shadow of + an ass,' which he confounds with a horse, but about good which he + confounds with evil,—what will be the harvest which rhetoric will be + likely to gather after the sowing of that seed? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: The reverse of good. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: But perhaps rhetoric has been getting too roughly handled by us, + and she might answer: What amazing nonsense you are talking! As if I + forced any man to learn to speak in ignorance of the truth! Whatever my + advice may be worth, I should have told him to arrive at the truth first, + and then come to me. At the same time I boldly assert that mere knowledge + of the truth will not give you the art of persuasion. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: There is reason in the lady's defence of herself. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Quite true; if only the other arguments which remain to be + brought up bear her witness that she is an art at all. But I seem to hear + them arraying themselves on the opposite side, declaring that she speaks + falsely, and that rhetoric is a mere routine and trick, not an art. Lo! a + Spartan appears, and says that there never is nor ever will be a real art + of speaking which is divorced from the truth. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: And what are these arguments, Socrates? Bring them out that we + may examine them. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Come out, fair children, and convince Phaedrus, who is the + father of similar beauties, that he will never be able to speak about + anything as he ought to speak unless he have a knowledge of philosophy. + And let Phaedrus answer you. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Put the question. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Is not rhetoric, taken generally, a universal art of enchanting + the mind by arguments; which is practised not only in courts and public + assemblies, but in private houses also, having to do with all matters, + great as well as small, good and bad alike, and is in all equally right, + and equally to be esteemed—that is what you have heard? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Nay, not exactly that; I should say rather that I have heard the + art confined to speaking and writing in lawsuits, and to speaking in + public assemblies—not extended farther. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Then I suppose that you have only heard of the rhetoric of + Nestor and Odysseus, which they composed in their leisure hours when at + Troy, and never of the rhetoric of Palamedes? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: No more than of Nestor and Odysseus, unless Gorgias is your + Nestor, and Thrasymachus or Theodorus your Odysseus. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Perhaps that is my meaning. But let us leave them. And do you + tell me, instead, what are plaintiff and defendant doing in a law court—are + they not contending? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Exactly so. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: About the just and unjust—that is the matter in dispute? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And a professor of the art will make the same thing appear to + the same persons to be at one time just, at another time, if he is so + inclined, to be unjust? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Exactly. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And when he speaks in the assembly, he will make the same things + seem good to the city at one time, and at another time the reverse of + good? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: That is true. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Have we not heard of the Eleatic Palamedes (Zeno), who has an + art of speaking by which he makes the same things appear to his hearers + like and unlike, one and many, at rest and in motion? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Very true. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: The art of disputation, then, is not confined to the courts and + the assembly, but is one and the same in every use of language; this is + the art, if there be such an art, which is able to find a likeness of + everything to which a likeness can be found, and draws into the light of + day the likenesses and disguises which are used by others? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: How do you mean? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Let me put the matter thus: When will there be more chance of + deception—when the difference is large or small? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: When the difference is small. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And you will be less likely to be discovered in passing by + degrees into the other extreme than when you go all at once? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Of course. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: He, then, who would deceive others, and not be deceived, must + exactly know the real likenesses and differences of things? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: He must. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And if he is ignorant of the true nature of any subject, how can + he detect the greater or less degree of likeness in other things to that + of which by the hypothesis he is ignorant? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: He cannot. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And when men are deceived and their notions are at variance with + realities, it is clear that the error slips in through resemblances? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes, that is the way. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Then he who would be a master of the art must understand the + real nature of everything; or he will never know either how to make the + gradual departure from truth into the opposite of truth which is effected + by the help of resemblances, or how to avoid it? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: He will not. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: He then, who being ignorant of the truth aims at appearances, + will only attain an art of rhetoric which is ridiculous and is not an art + at all? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: That may be expected. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Shall I propose that we look for examples of art and want of + art, according to our notion of them, in the speech of Lysias which you + have in your hand, and in my own speech? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Nothing could be better; and indeed I think that our previous + argument has been too abstract and wanting in illustrations. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Yes; and the two speeches happen to afford a very good example + of the way in which the speaker who knows the truth may, without any + serious purpose, steal away the hearts of his hearers. This piece of + good-fortune I attribute to the local deities; and, perhaps, the prophets + of the Muses who are singing over our heads may have imparted their + inspiration to me. For I do not imagine that I have any rhetorical art of + my own. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Granted; if you will only please to get on. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Suppose that you read me the first words of Lysias' speech. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: 'You know how matters stand with me, and how, as I conceive, + they might be arranged for our common interest; and I maintain that I + ought not to fail in my suit, because I am not your lover. For lovers + repent—' + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Enough:—Now, shall I point out the rhetorical error of + those words? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Every one is aware that about some things we are agreed, whereas + about other things we differ. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I think that I understand you; but will you explain yourself? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: When any one speaks of iron and silver, is not the same thing + present in the minds of all? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: But when any one speaks of justice and goodness we part company + and are at odds with one another and with ourselves? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Precisely. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Then in some things we agree, but not in others? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: That is true. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: In which are we more likely to be deceived, and in which has + rhetoric the greater power? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Clearly, in the uncertain class. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Then the rhetorician ought to make a regular division, and + acquire a distinct notion of both classes, as well of that in which the + many err, as of that in which they do not err? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: He who made such a distinction would have an excellent + principle. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Yes; and in the next place he must have a keen eye for the + observation of particulars in speaking, and not make a mistake about the + class to which they are to be referred. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Now to which class does love belong—to the debatable or to + the undisputed class? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: To the debatable, clearly; for if not, do you think that love + would have allowed you to say as you did, that he is an evil both to the + lover and the beloved, and also the greatest possible good? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Capital. But will you tell me whether I defined love at the + beginning of my speech? for, having been in an ecstasy, I cannot well + remember. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes, indeed; that you did, and no mistake. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Then I perceive that the Nymphs of Achelous and Pan the son of + Hermes, who inspired me, were far better rhetoricians than Lysias the son + of Cephalus. Alas! how inferior to them he is! But perhaps I am mistaken; + and Lysias at the commencement of his lover's speech did insist on our + supposing love to be something or other which he fancied him to be, and + according to this model he fashioned and framed the remainder of his + discourse. Suppose we read his beginning over again: + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: If you please; but you will not find what you want. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Read, that I may have his exact words. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: 'You know how matters stand with me, and how, as I conceive, + they might be arranged for our common interest; and I maintain I ought not + to fail in my suit because I am not your lover, for lovers repent of the + kindnesses which they have shown, when their love is over.' + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Here he appears to have done just the reverse of what he ought; + for he has begun at the end, and is swimming on his back through the flood + to the place of starting. His address to the fair youth begins where the + lover would have ended. Am I not right, sweet Phaedrus? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes, indeed, Socrates; he does begin at the end. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Then as to the other topics—are they not thrown down + anyhow? Is there any principle in them? Why should the next topic follow + next in order, or any other topic? I cannot help fancying in my ignorance + that he wrote off boldly just what came into his head, but I dare say that + you would recognize a rhetorical necessity in the succession of the + several parts of the composition? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: You have too good an opinion of me if you think that I have any + such insight into his principles of composition. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: At any rate, you will allow that every discourse ought to be a + living creature, having a body of its own and a head and feet; there + should be a middle, beginning, and end, adapted to one another and to the + whole? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Can this be said of the discourse of Lysias? See whether you can + find any more connexion in his words than in the epitaph which is said by + some to have been inscribed on the grave of Midas the Phrygian. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: What is there remarkable in the epitaph? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: It is as follows:— + </p> + <p> + 'I am a maiden of bronze and lie on the tomb of Midas; So long as water + flows and tall trees grow, So long here on this spot by his sad tomb + abiding, I shall declare to passers-by that Midas sleeps below.' + </p> + <p> + Now in this rhyme whether a line comes first or comes last, as you will + perceive, makes no difference. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: You are making fun of that oration of ours. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Well, I will say no more about your friend's speech lest I + should give offence to you; although I think that it might furnish many + other examples of what a man ought rather to avoid. But I will proceed to + the other speech, which, as I think, is also suggestive to students of + rhetoric. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: In what way? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: The two speeches, as you may remember, were unlike; the one + argued that the lover and the other that the non-lover ought to be + accepted. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: And right manfully. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: You should rather say 'madly;' and madness was the argument of + them, for, as I said, 'love is a madness.' + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And of madness there were two kinds; one produced by human + infirmity, the other was a divine release of the soul from the yoke of + custom and convention. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: True. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: The divine madness was subdivided into four kinds, prophetic, + initiatory, poetic, erotic, having four gods presiding over them; the + first was the inspiration of Apollo, the second that of Dionysus, the + third that of the Muses, the fourth that of Aphrodite and Eros. In the + description of the last kind of madness, which was also said to be the + best, we spoke of the affection of love in a figure, into which we + introduced a tolerably credible and possibly true though partly erring + myth, which was also a hymn in honour of Love, who is your lord and also + mine, Phaedrus, and the guardian of fair children, and to him we sung the + hymn in measured and solemn strain. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I know that I had great pleasure in listening to you. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Let us take this instance and note how the transition was made + from blame to praise. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: What do you mean? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I mean to say that the composition was mostly playful. Yet in + these chance fancies of the hour were involved two principles of which we + should be too glad to have a clearer description if art could give us one. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: What are they? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: First, the comprehension of scattered particulars in one idea; + as in our definition of love, which whether true or false certainly gave + clearness and consistency to the discourse, the speaker should define his + several notions and so make his meaning clear. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: What is the other principle, Socrates? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: The second principle is that of division into species according + to the natural formation, where the joint is, not breaking any part as a + bad carver might. Just as our two discourses, alike assumed, first of all, + a single form of unreason; and then, as the body which from being one + becomes double and may be divided into a left side and right side, each + having parts right and left of the same name—after this manner the + speaker proceeded to divide the parts of the left side and did not desist + until he found in them an evil or left-handed love which he justly + reviled; and the other discourse leading us to the madness which lay on + the right side, found another love, also having the same name, but divine, + which the speaker held up before us and applauded and affirmed to be the + author of the greatest benefits. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Most true. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I am myself a great lover of these processes of division and + generalization; they help me to speak and to think. And if I find any man + who is able to see 'a One and Many' in nature, him I follow, and 'walk in + his footsteps as if he were a god.' And those who have this art, I have + hitherto been in the habit of calling dialecticians; but God knows whether + the name is right or not. And I should like to know what name you would + give to your or to Lysias' disciples, and whether this may not be that + famous art of rhetoric which Thrasymachus and others teach and practise? + Skilful speakers they are, and impart their skill to any who is willing to + make kings of them and to bring gifts to them. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes, they are royal men; but their art is not the same with the + art of those whom you call, and rightly, in my opinion, dialecticians:—Still + we are in the dark about rhetoric. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: What do you mean? The remains of it, if there be anything + remaining which can be brought under rules of art, must be a fine thing; + and, at any rate, is not to be despised by you and me. But how much is + left? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: There is a great deal surely to be found in books of rhetoric? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Yes; thank you for reminding me:—There is the exordium, + showing how the speech should begin, if I remember rightly; that is what + you mean—the niceties of the art? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Then follows the statement of facts, and upon that witnesses; + thirdly, proofs; fourthly, probabilities are to come; the great Byzantian + word-maker also speaks, if I am not mistaken, of confirmation and further + confirmation. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: You mean the excellent Theodorus. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Yes; and he tells how refutation or further refutation is to be + managed, whether in accusation or defence. I ought also to mention the + illustrious Parian, Evenus, who first invented insinuations and indirect + praises; and also indirect censures, which according to some he put into + verse to help the memory. But shall I 'to dumb forgetfulness consign' + Tisias and Gorgias, who are not ignorant that probability is superior to + truth, and who by force of argument make the little appear great and the + great little, disguise the new in old fashions and the old in new + fashions, and have discovered forms for everything, either short or going + on to infinity. I remember Prodicus laughing when I told him of this; he + said that he had himself discovered the true rule of art, which was to be + neither long nor short, but of a convenient length. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Well done, Prodicus! + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Then there is Hippias the Elean stranger, who probably agrees + with him. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And there is also Polus, who has treasuries of diplasiology, and + gnomology, and eikonology, and who teaches in them the names of which + Licymnius made him a present; they were to give a polish. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Had not Protagoras something of the same sort? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Yes, rules of correct diction and many other fine precepts; for + the 'sorrows of a poor old man,' or any other pathetic case, no one is + better than the Chalcedonian giant; he can put a whole company of people + into a passion and out of one again by his mighty magic, and is first-rate + at inventing or disposing of any sort of calumny on any grounds or none. + All of them agree in asserting that a speech should end in a + recapitulation, though they do not all agree to use the same word. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: You mean that there should be a summing up of the arguments in + order to remind the hearers of them. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I have now said all that I have to say of the art of rhetoric: + have you anything to add? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Not much; nothing very important. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Leave the unimportant and let us bring the really important + question into the light of day, which is: What power has this art of + rhetoric, and when? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: A very great power in public meetings. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: It has. But I should like to know whether you have the same + feeling as I have about the rhetoricians? To me there seem to be a great + many holes in their web. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Give an example. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I will. Suppose a person to come to your friend Eryximachus, or + to his father Acumenus, and to say to him: 'I know how to apply drugs + which shall have either a heating or a cooling effect, and I can give a + vomit and also a purge, and all that sort of thing; and knowing all this, + as I do, I claim to be a physician and to make physicians by imparting + this knowledge to others,'—what do you suppose that they would say? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: They would be sure to ask him whether he knew 'to whom' he would + give his medicines, and 'when,' and 'how much.' + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And suppose that he were to reply: 'No; I know nothing of all + that; I expect the patient who consults me to be able to do these things + for himself'? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: They would say in reply that he is a madman or a pedant who + fancies that he is a physician because he has read something in a book, or + has stumbled on a prescription or two, although he has no real + understanding of the art of medicine. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And suppose a person were to come to Sophocles or Euripides and + say that he knows how to make a very long speech about a small matter, and + a short speech about a great matter, and also a sorrowful speech, or a + terrible, or threatening speech, or any other kind of speech, and in + teaching this fancies that he is teaching the art of tragedy—? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: They too would surely laugh at him if he fancies that tragedy is + anything but the arranging of these elements in a manner which will be + suitable to one another and to the whole. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: But I do not suppose that they would be rude or abusive to him: + Would they not treat him as a musician a man who thinks that he is a + harmonist because he knows how to pitch the highest and lowest note; + happening to meet such an one he would not say to him savagely, 'Fool, you + are mad!' But like a musician, in a gentle and harmonious tone of voice, + he would answer: 'My good friend, he who would be a harmonist must + certainly know this, and yet he may understand nothing of harmony if he + has not got beyond your stage of knowledge, for you only know the + preliminaries of harmony and not harmony itself.' + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Very true. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And will not Sophocles say to the display of the would-be + tragedian, that this is not tragedy but the preliminaries of tragedy? and + will not Acumenus say the same of medicine to the would-be physician? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Quite true. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And if Adrastus the mellifluous or Pericles heard of these + wonderful arts, brachylogies and eikonologies and all the hard names which + we have been endeavouring to draw into the light of day, what would they + say? Instead of losing temper and applying uncomplimentary epithets, as + you and I have been doing, to the authors of such an imaginary art, their + superior wisdom would rather censure us, as well as them. 'Have a little + patience, Phaedrus and Socrates, they would say; you should not be in such + a passion with those who from some want of dialectical skill are unable to + define the nature of rhetoric, and consequently suppose that they have + found the art in the preliminary conditions of it, and when these have + been taught by them to others, fancy that the whole art of rhetoric has + been taught by them; but as to using the several instruments of the art + effectively, or making the composition a whole,—an application of it + such as this is they regard as an easy thing which their disciples may + make for themselves.' + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I quite admit, Socrates, that the art of rhetoric which these + men teach and of which they write is such as you describe—there I + agree with you. But I still want to know where and how the true art of + rhetoric and persuasion is to be acquired. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: The perfection which is required of the finished orator is, or + rather must be, like the perfection of anything else; partly given by + nature, but may also be assisted by art. If you have the natural power and + add to it knowledge and practice, you will be a distinguished speaker; if + you fall short in either of these, you will be to that extent defective. + But the art, as far as there is an art, of rhetoric does not lie in the + direction of Lysias or Thrasymachus. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: In what direction then? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I conceive Pericles to have been the most accomplished of + rhetoricians. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: What of that? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: All the great arts require discussion and high speculation about + the truths of nature; hence come loftiness of thought and completeness of + execution. And this, as I conceive, was the quality which, in addition to + his natural gifts, Pericles acquired from his intercourse with Anaxagoras + whom he happened to know. He was thus imbued with the higher philosophy, + and attained the knowledge of Mind and the negative of Mind, which were + favourite themes of Anaxagoras, and applied what suited his purpose to the + art of speaking. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Explain. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Rhetoric is like medicine. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: How so? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Why, because medicine has to define the nature of the body and + rhetoric of the soul—if we would proceed, not empirically but + scientifically, in the one case to impart health and strength by giving + medicine and food, in the other to implant the conviction or virtue which + you desire, by the right application of words and training. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: There, Socrates, I suspect that you are right. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And do you think that you can know the nature of the soul + intelligently without knowing the nature of the whole? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Hippocrates the Asclepiad says that the nature even of the body + can only be understood as a whole. (Compare Charmides.) + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Yes, friend, and he was right:—still, we ought not to be + content with the name of Hippocrates, but to examine and see whether his + argument agrees with his conception of nature. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I agree. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Then consider what truth as well as Hippocrates says about this + or about any other nature. Ought we not to consider first whether that + which we wish to learn and to teach is a simple or multiform thing, and if + simple, then to enquire what power it has of acting or being acted upon in + relation to other things, and if multiform, then to number the forms; and + see first in the case of one of them, and then in the case of all of them, + what is that power of acting or being acted upon which makes each and all + of them to be what they are? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: You may very likely be right, Socrates. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: The method which proceeds without analysis is like the groping + of a blind man. Yet, surely, he who is an artist ought not to admit of a + comparison with the blind, or deaf. The rhetorician, who teaches his pupil + to speak scientifically, will particularly set forth the nature of that + being to which he addresses his speeches; and this, I conceive, to be the + soul. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: His whole effort is directed to the soul; for in that he seeks + to produce conviction. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Then clearly, Thrasymachus or any one else who teaches rhetoric + in earnest will give an exact description of the nature of the soul; which + will enable us to see whether she be single and same, or, like the body, + multiform. That is what we should call showing the nature of the soul. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Exactly. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: He will explain, secondly, the mode in which she acts or is + acted upon. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: True. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Thirdly, having classified men and speeches, and their kinds and + affections, and adapted them to one another, he will tell the reasons of + his arrangement, and show why one soul is persuaded by a particular form + of argument, and another not. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: You have hit upon a very good way. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Yes, that is the true and only way in which any subject can be + set forth or treated by rules of art, whether in speaking or writing. But + the writers of the present day, at whose feet you have sat, craftily + conceal the nature of the soul which they know quite well. Nor, until they + adopt our method of reading and writing, can we admit that they write by + rules of art? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: What is our method? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I cannot give you the exact details; but I should like to tell + you generally, as far as is in my power, how a man ought to proceed + according to rules of art. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Let me hear. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Oratory is the art of enchanting the soul, and therefore he who + would be an orator has to learn the differences of human souls—they + are so many and of such a nature, and from them come the differences + between man and man. Having proceeded thus far in his analysis, he will + next divide speeches into their different classes:—'Such and such + persons,' he will say, are affected by this or that kind of speech in this + or that way,' and he will tell you why. The pupil must have a good + theoretical notion of them first, and then he must have experience of them + in actual life, and be able to follow them with all his senses about him, + or he will never get beyond the precepts of his masters. But when he + understands what persons are persuaded by what arguments, and sees the + person about whom he was speaking in the abstract actually before him, and + knows that it is he, and can say to himself, 'This is the man or this is + the character who ought to have a certain argument applied to him in order + to convince him of a certain opinion;'—he who knows all this, and + knows also when he should speak and when he should refrain, and when he + should use pithy sayings, pathetic appeals, sensational effects, and all + the other modes of speech which he has learned;—when, I say, he + knows the times and seasons of all these things, then, and not till then, + he is a perfect master of his art; but if he fail in any of these points, + whether in speaking or teaching or writing them, and yet declares that he + speaks by rules of art, he who says 'I don't believe you' has the better + of him. Well, the teacher will say, is this, Phaedrus and Socrates, your + account of the so-called art of rhetoric, or am I to look for another? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: He must take this, Socrates, for there is no possibility of + another, and yet the creation of such an art is not easy. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Very true; and therefore let us consider this matter in every + light, and see whether we cannot find a shorter and easier road; there is + no use in taking a long rough roundabout way if there be a shorter and + easier one. And I wish that you would try and remember whether you have + heard from Lysias or any one else anything which might be of service to + us. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: If trying would avail, then I might; but at the moment I can + think of nothing. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Suppose I tell you something which somebody who knows told me. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: May not 'the wolf,' as the proverb says, 'claim a hearing'? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Do you say what can be said for him. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: He will argue that there is no use in putting a solemn face on + these matters, or in going round and round, until you arrive at first + principles; for, as I said at first, when the question is of justice and + good, or is a question in which men are concerned who are just and good, + either by nature or habit, he who would be a skilful rhetorician has no + need of truth—for that in courts of law men literally care nothing + about truth, but only about conviction: and this is based on probability, + to which he who would be a skilful orator should therefore give his whole + attention. And they say also that there are cases in which the actual + facts, if they are improbable, ought to be withheld, and only the + probabilities should be told either in accusation or defence, and that + always in speaking, the orator should keep probability in view, and say + good-bye to the truth. And the observance of this principle throughout a + speech furnishes the whole art. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: That is what the professors of rhetoric do actually say, + Socrates. I have not forgotten that we have quite briefly touched upon + this matter already; with them the point is all-important. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I dare say that you are familiar with Tisias. Does he not define + probability to be that which the many think? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Certainly, he does. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I believe that he has a clever and ingenious case of this sort:—He + supposes a feeble and valiant man to have assaulted a strong and cowardly + one, and to have robbed him of his coat or of something or other; he is + brought into court, and then Tisias says that both parties should tell + lies: the coward should say that he was assaulted by more men than one; + the other should prove that they were alone, and should argue thus: 'How + could a weak man like me have assaulted a strong man like him?' The + complainant will not like to confess his own cowardice, and will therefore + invent some other lie which his adversary will thus gain an opportunity of + refuting. And there are other devices of the same kind which have a place + in the system. Am I not right, Phaedrus? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Bless me, what a wonderfully mysterious art is this which Tisias + or some other gentleman, in whatever name or country he rejoices, has + discovered. Shall we say a word to him or not? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: What shall we say to him? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Let us tell him that, before he appeared, you and I were saying + that the probability of which he speaks was engendered in the minds of the + many by the likeness of the truth, and we had just been affirming that he + who knew the truth would always know best how to discover the resemblances + of the truth. If he has anything else to say about the art of speaking we + should like to hear him; but if not, we are satisfied with our own view, + that unless a man estimates the various characters of his hearers and is + able to divide all things into classes and to comprehend them under single + ideas, he will never be a skilful rhetorician even within the limits of + human power. And this skill he will not attain without a great deal of + trouble, which a good man ought to undergo, not for the sake of speaking + and acting before men, but in order that he may be able to say what is + acceptable to God and always to act acceptably to Him as far as in him + lies; for there is a saying of wiser men than ourselves, that a man of + sense should not try to please his fellow-servants (at least this should + not be his first object) but his good and noble masters; and therefore if + the way is long and circuitous, marvel not at this, for, where the end is + great, there we may take the longer road, but not for lesser ends such as + yours. Truly, the argument may say, Tisias, that if you do not mind going + so far, rhetoric has a fair beginning here. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I think, Socrates, that this is admirable, if only practicable. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: But even to fail in an honourable object is honourable. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: True. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Enough appears to have been said by us of a true and false art + of speaking. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: But there is something yet to be said of propriety and + impropriety of writing. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Do you know how you can speak or act about rhetoric in a manner + which will be acceptable to God? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: No, indeed. Do you? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I have heard a tradition of the ancients, whether true or not + they only know; although if we had found the truth ourselves, do you think + that we should care much about the opinions of men? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Your question needs no answer; but I wish that you would tell me + what you say that you have heard. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: At the Egyptian city of Naucratis, there was a famous old god, + whose name was Theuth; the bird which is called the Ibis is sacred to him, + and he was the inventor of many arts, such as arithmetic and calculation + and geometry and astronomy and draughts and dice, but his great discovery + was the use of letters. Now in those days the god Thamus was the king of + the whole country of Egypt; and he dwelt in that great city of Upper Egypt + which the Hellenes call Egyptian Thebes, and the god himself is called by + them Ammon. To him came Theuth and showed his inventions, desiring that + the other Egyptians might be allowed to have the benefit of them; he + enumerated them, and Thamus enquired about their several uses, and praised + some of them and censured others, as he approved or disapproved of them. + It would take a long time to repeat all that Thamus said to Theuth in + praise or blame of the various arts. But when they came to letters, This, + said Theuth, will make the Egyptians wiser and give them better memories; + it is a specific both for the memory and for the wit. Thamus replied: O + most ingenious Theuth, the parent or inventor of an art is not always the + best judge of the utility or inutility of his own inventions to the users + of them. And in this instance, you who are the father of letters, from a + paternal love of your own children have been led to attribute to them a + quality which they cannot have; for this discovery of yours will create + forgetfulness in the learners' souls, because they will not use their + memories; they will trust to the external written characters and not + remember of themselves. The specific which you have discovered is an aid + not to memory, but to reminiscence, and you give your disciples not truth, + but only the semblance of truth; they will be hearers of many things and + will have learned nothing; they will appear to be omniscient and will + generally know nothing; they will be tiresome company, having the show of + wisdom without the reality. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes, Socrates, you can easily invent tales of Egypt, or of any + other country. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: There was a tradition in the temple of Dodona that oaks first + gave prophetic utterances. The men of old, unlike in their simplicity to + young philosophy, deemed that if they heard the truth even from 'oak or + rock,' it was enough for them; whereas you seem to consider not whether a + thing is or is not true, but who the speaker is and from what country the + tale comes. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I acknowledge the justice of your rebuke; and I think that the + Theban is right in his view about letters. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: He would be a very simple person, and quite a stranger to the + oracles of Thamus or Ammon, who should leave in writing or receive in + writing any art under the idea that the written word would be intelligible + or certain; or who deemed that writing was at all better than knowledge + and recollection of the same matters? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: That is most true. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I cannot help feeling, Phaedrus, that writing is unfortunately + like painting; for the creations of the painter have the attitude of life, + and yet if you ask them a question they preserve a solemn silence. And the + same may be said of speeches. You would imagine that they had + intelligence, but if you want to know anything and put a question to one + of them, the speaker always gives one unvarying answer. And when they have + been once written down they are tumbled about anywhere among those who may + or may not understand them, and know not to whom they should reply, to + whom not: and, if they are maltreated or abused, they have no parent to + protect them; and they cannot protect or defend themselves. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: That again is most true. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Is there not another kind of word or speech far better than + this, and having far greater power—a son of the same family, but + lawfully begotten? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Whom do you mean, and what is his origin? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I mean an intelligent word graven in the soul of the learner, + which can defend itself, and knows when to speak and when to be silent. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: You mean the living word of knowledge which has a soul, and of + which the written word is properly no more than an image? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Yes, of course that is what I mean. And now may I be allowed to + ask you a question: Would a husbandman, who is a man of sense, take the + seeds, which he values and which he wishes to bear fruit, and in sober + seriousness plant them during the heat of summer, in some garden of + Adonis, that he may rejoice when he sees them in eight days appearing in + beauty? at least he would do so, if at all, only for the sake of amusement + and pastime. But when he is in earnest he sows in fitting soil, and + practises husbandry, and is satisfied if in eight months the seeds which + he has sown arrive at perfection? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes, Socrates, that will be his way when he is in earnest; he + will do the other, as you say, only in play. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And can we suppose that he who knows the just and good and + honourable has less understanding, than the husbandman, about his own + seeds? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Certainly not. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Then he will not seriously incline to 'write' his thoughts 'in + water' with pen and ink, sowing words which can neither speak for + themselves nor teach the truth adequately to others? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: No, that is not likely. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: No, that is not likely—in the garden of letters he will + sow and plant, but only for the sake of recreation and amusement; he will + write them down as memorials to be treasured against the forgetfulness of + old age, by himself, or by any other old man who is treading the same + path. He will rejoice in beholding their tender growth; and while others + are refreshing their souls with banqueting and the like, this will be the + pastime in which his days are spent. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: A pastime, Socrates, as noble as the other is ignoble, the + pastime of a man who can be amused by serious talk, and can discourse + merrily about justice and the like. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: True, Phaedrus. But nobler far is the serious pursuit of the + dialectician, who, finding a congenial soul, by the help of science sows + and plants therein words which are able to help themselves and him who + planted them, and are not unfruitful, but have in them a seed which others + brought up in different soils render immortal, making the possessors of it + happy to the utmost extent of human happiness. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Far nobler, certainly. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And now, Phaedrus, having agreed upon the premises we may decide + about the conclusion. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: About what conclusion? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: About Lysias, whom we censured, and his art of writing, and his + discourses, and the rhetorical skill or want of skill which was shown in + them—these are the questions which we sought to determine, and they + brought us to this point. And I think that we are now pretty well informed + about the nature of art and its opposite. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes, I think with you; but I wish that you would repeat what was + said. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Until a man knows the truth of the several particulars of which + he is writing or speaking, and is able to define them as they are, and + having defined them again to divide them until they can be no longer + divided, and until in like manner he is able to discern the nature of the + soul, and discover the different modes of discourse which are adapted to + different natures, and to arrange and dispose them in such a way that the + simple form of speech may be addressed to the simpler nature, and the + complex and composite to the more complex nature—until he has + accomplished all this, he will be unable to handle arguments according to + rules of art, as far as their nature allows them to be subjected to art, + either for the purpose of teaching or persuading;—such is the view + which is implied in the whole preceding argument. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Yes, that was our view, certainly. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Secondly, as to the censure which was passed on the speaking or + writing of discourses, and how they might be rightly or wrongly censured—did + not our previous argument show—? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Show what? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: That whether Lysias or any other writer that ever was or will + be, whether private man or statesman, proposes laws and so becomes the + author of a political treatise, fancying that there is any great certainty + and clearness in his performance, the fact of his so writing is only a + disgrace to him, whatever men may say. For not to know the nature of + justice and injustice, and good and evil, and not to be able to + distinguish the dream from the reality, cannot in truth be otherwise than + disgraceful to him, even though he have the applause of the whole world. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: But he who thinks that in the written word there is necessarily + much which is not serious, and that neither poetry nor prose, spoken or + written, is of any great value, if, like the compositions of the + rhapsodes, they are only recited in order to be believed, and not with any + view to criticism or instruction; and who thinks that even the best of + writings are but a reminiscence of what we know, and that only in + principles of justice and goodness and nobility taught and communicated + orally for the sake of instruction and graven in the soul, which is the + true way of writing, is there clearness and perfection and seriousness, + and that such principles are a man's own and his legitimate offspring;—being, + in the first place, the word which he finds in his own bosom; secondly, + the brethren and descendants and relations of his idea which have been + duly implanted by him in the souls of others;—and who cares for them + and no others—this is the right sort of man; and you and I, + Phaedrus, would pray that we may become like him. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: That is most assuredly my desire and prayer. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And now the play is played out; and of rhetoric enough. Go and + tell Lysias that to the fountain and school of the Nymphs we went down, + and were bidden by them to convey a message to him and to other composers + of speeches—to Homer and other writers of poems, whether set to + music or not; and to Solon and others who have composed writings in the + form of political discourses which they would term laws—to all of + them we are to say that if their compositions are based on knowledge of + the truth, and they can defend or prove them, when they are put to the + test, by spoken arguments, which leave their writings poor in comparison + of them, then they are to be called, not only poets, orators, legislators, + but are worthy of a higher name, befitting the serious pursuit of their + life. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: What name would you assign to them? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Wise, I may not call them; for that is a great name which + belongs to God alone,—lovers of wisdom or philosophers is their + modest and befitting title. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Very suitable. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: And he who cannot rise above his own compilations and + compositions, which he has been long patching and piecing, adding some and + taking away some, may be justly called poet or speech-maker or law-maker. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Now go and tell this to your companion. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: But there is also a friend of yours who ought not to be + forgotten. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Who is he? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Isocrates the fair:—What message will you send to him, and + how shall we describe him? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Isocrates is still young, Phaedrus; but I am willing to hazard a + prophecy concerning him. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: What would you prophesy? + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: I think that he has a genius which soars above the orations of + Lysias, and that his character is cast in a finer mould. My impression of + him is that he will marvellously improve as he grows older, and that all + former rhetoricians will be as children in comparison of him. And I + believe that he will not be satisfied with rhetoric, but that there is in + him a divine inspiration which will lead him to things higher still. For + he has an element of philosophy in his nature. This is the message of the + gods dwelling in this place, and which I will myself deliver to Isocrates, + who is my delight; and do you give the other to Lysias, who is yours. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: I will; and now as the heat is abated let us depart. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Should we not offer up a prayer first of all to the local + deities? + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: By all means. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Beloved Pan, and all ye other gods who haunt this place, give me + beauty in the inward soul; and may the outward and inward man be at one. + May I reckon the wise to be the wealthy, and may I have such a quantity of + gold as a temperate man and he only can bear and carry.—Anything + more? The prayer, I think, is enough for me. + </p> + <p> + PHAEDRUS: Ask the same for me, for friends should have all things in + common. + </p> + <p> + SOCRATES: Let us go. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Phaedrus, by Plato + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHAEDRUS *** + +***** This file should be named 1636-h.htm or 1636-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/3/1636/ + +Produced by Sue Asscher, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Jowett + +Posting Date: October 30, 2008 [EBook #1636] +Release Date: February 1999 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHAEDRUS *** + + + + +Produced by Sue Asscher + + + + + +PHAEDRUS + +By Plato + + +Translated by Benjamin Jowett + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + +The Phaedrus is closely connected with the Symposium, and may be +regarded either as introducing or following it. The two Dialogues +together contain the whole philosophy of Plato on the nature of love, +which in the Republic and in the later writings of Plato is only +introduced playfully or as a figure of speech. But in the Phaedrus and +Symposium love and philosophy join hands, and one is an aspect of the +other. The spiritual and emotional part is elevated into the ideal, to +which in the Symposium mankind are described as looking forward, and +which in the Phaedrus, as well as in the Phaedo, they are seeking to +recover from a former state of existence. Whether the subject of the +Dialogue is love or rhetoric, or the union of the two, or the relation +of philosophy to love and to art in general, and to the human soul, will +be hereafter considered. And perhaps we may arrive at some conclusion +such as the following--that the dialogue is not strictly confined to a +single subject, but passes from one to another with the natural freedom +of conversation. + +Phaedrus has been spending the morning with Lysias, the celebrated +rhetorician, and is going to refresh himself by taking a walk outside +the wall, when he is met by Socrates, who professes that he will not +leave him until he has delivered up the speech with which Lysias +has regaled him, and which he is carrying about in his mind, or more +probably in a book hidden under his cloak, and is intending to study +as he walks. The imputation is not denied, and the two agree to direct +their steps out of the public way along the stream of the Ilissus +towards a plane-tree which is seen in the distance. There, lying down +amidst pleasant sounds and scents, they will read the speech of Lysias. +The country is a novelty to Socrates, who never goes out of the town; +and hence he is full of admiration for the beauties of nature, which he +seems to be drinking in for the first time. + +As they are on their way, Phaedrus asks the opinion of Socrates +respecting the local tradition of Boreas and Oreithyia. Socrates, after +a satirical allusion to the 'rationalizers' of his day, replies that he +has no time for these 'nice' interpretations of mythology, and he pities +anyone who has. When you once begin there is no end of them, and they +spring from an uncritical philosophy after all. 'The proper study of +mankind is man;' and he is a far more complex and wonderful being than +the serpent Typho. Socrates as yet does not know himself; and why should +he care to know about unearthly monsters? Engaged in such conversation, +they arrive at the plane-tree; when they have found a convenient +resting-place, Phaedrus pulls out the speech and reads:-- + +The speech consists of a foolish paradox which is to the effect that the +non-lover ought to be accepted rather than the lover--because he is more +rational, more agreeable, more enduring, less suspicious, less hurtful, +less boastful, less engrossing, and because there are more of them, and +for a great many other reasons which are equally unmeaning. Phaedrus is +captivated with the beauty of the periods, and wants to make Socrates +say that nothing was or ever could be written better. Socrates does not +think much of the matter, but then he has only attended to the form, and +in that he has detected several repetitions and other marks of haste. He +cannot agree with Phaedrus in the extreme value which he sets upon this +performance, because he is afraid of doing injustice to Anacreon and +Sappho and other great writers, and is almost inclined to think that he +himself, or rather some power residing within him, could make a speech +better than that of Lysias on the same theme, and also different from +his, if he may be allowed the use of a few commonplaces which all +speakers must equally employ. + +Phaedrus is delighted at the prospect of having another speech, and +promises that he will set up a golden statue of Socrates at Delphi, +if he keeps his word. Some raillery ensues, and at length Socrates, +conquered by the threat that he shall never again hear a speech of +Lysias unless he fulfils his promise, veils his face and begins. + +First, invoking the Muses and assuming ironically the person of the +non-lover (who is a lover all the same), he will enquire into the nature +and power of love. For this is a necessary preliminary to the other +question--How is the non-lover to be distinguished from the lover? In +all of us there are two principles--a better and a worse--reason and +desire, which are generally at war with one another; and the victory +of the rational is called temperance, and the victory of the irrational +intemperance or excess. The latter takes many forms and has many bad +names--gluttony, drunkenness, and the like. But of all the irrational +desires or excesses the greatest is that which is led away by desires +of a kindred nature to the enjoyment of personal beauty. And this is the +master power of love. + +Here Socrates fancies that he detects in himself an unusual flow +of eloquence--this newly-found gift he can only attribute to the +inspiration of the place, which appears to be dedicated to the nymphs. +Starting again from the philosophical basis which has been laid down, he +proceeds to show how many advantages the non-lover has over the lover. +The one encourages softness and effeminacy and exclusiveness; he cannot +endure any superiority in his beloved; he will train him in luxury, he +will keep him out of society, he will deprive him of parents, friends, +money, knowledge, and of every other good, that he may have him all to +himself. Then again his ways are not ways of pleasantness; he is mighty +disagreeable; 'crabbed age and youth cannot live together.' At every +hour of the night and day he is intruding upon him; there is the +same old withered face and the remainder to match--and he is always +repeating, in season or out of season, the praises or dispraises of his +beloved, which are bad enough when he is sober, and published all over +the world when he is drunk. At length his love ceases; he is converted +into an enemy, and the spectacle may be seen of the lover running away +from the beloved, who pursues him with vain reproaches, and demands +his reward which the other refuses to pay. Too late the beloved learns, +after all his pains and disagreeables, that 'As wolves love lambs so +lovers love their loves.' (Compare Char.) Here is the end; the 'other' +or 'non-lover' part of the speech had better be understood, for if in +the censure of the lover Socrates has broken out in verse, what will +he not do in his praise of the non-lover? He has said his say and is +preparing to go away. + +Phaedrus begs him to remain, at any rate until the heat of noon has +passed; he would like to have a little more conversation before they go. +Socrates, who has risen, recognizes the oracular sign which forbids him +to depart until he has done penance. His conscious has been awakened, +and like Stesichorus when he had reviled the lovely Helen he will sing +a palinode for having blasphemed the majesty of love. His palinode takes +the form of a myth. + +Socrates begins his tale with a glorification of madness, which he +divides into four kinds: first, there is the art of divination or +prophecy--this, in a vein similar to that pervading the Cratylus and +Io, he connects with madness by an etymological explanation (mantike, +manike--compare oionoistike, oionistike, ''tis all one reckoning, save +the phrase is a little variations'); secondly, there is the art of +purification by mysteries; thirdly, poetry or the inspiration of the +Muses (compare Ion), without which no man can enter their temple. All +this shows that madness is one of heaven's blessings, and may sometimes +be a great deal better than sense. There is also a fourth kind of +madness--that of love--which cannot be explained without enquiring into +the nature of the soul. + +All soul is immortal, for she is the source of all motion both in +herself and in others. Her form may be described in a figure as a +composite nature made up of a charioteer and a pair of winged steeds. +The steeds of the gods are immortal, but ours are one mortal and the +other immortal. The immortal soul soars upwards into the heavens, but +the mortal drops her plumes and settles upon the earth. + +Now the use of the wing is to rise and carry the downward element into +the upper world--there to behold beauty, wisdom, goodness, and the other +things of God by which the soul is nourished. On a certain day Zeus the +lord of heaven goes forth in a winged chariot; and an array of gods +and demi-gods and of human souls in their train, follows him. There are +glorious and blessed sights in the interior of heaven, and he who will +may freely behold them. The great vision of all is seen at the feast of +the gods, when they ascend the heights of the empyrean--all but Hestia, +who is left at home to keep house. The chariots of the gods glide +readily upwards and stand upon the outside; the revolution of the +spheres carries them round, and they have a vision of the world beyond. +But the others labour in vain; for the mortal steed, if he has not been +properly trained, keeps them down and sinks them towards the earth. Of +the world which is beyond the heavens, who can tell? There is an essence +formless, colourless, intangible, perceived by the mind only, dwelling +in the region of true knowledge. The divine mind in her revolution +enjoys this fair prospect, and beholds justice, temperance, and +knowledge in their everlasting essence. When fulfilled with the sight +of them she returns home, and the charioteer puts up the horses in their +stable, and gives them ambrosia to eat and nectar to drink. This is the +life of the gods; the human soul tries to reach the same heights, but +hardly succeeds; and sometimes the head of the charioteer rises above, +and sometimes sinks below, the fair vision, and he is at last obliged, +after much contention, to turn away and leave the plain of truth. But if +the soul has followed in the train of her god and once beheld truth she +is preserved from harm, and is carried round in the next revolution of +the spheres; and if always following, and always seeing the truth, is +then for ever unharmed. If, however, she drops her wings and falls to +the earth, then she takes the form of man, and the soul which has seen +most of the truth passes into a philosopher or lover; that which has +seen truth in the second degree, into a king or warrior; the third, into +a householder or money-maker; the fourth, into a gymnast; the fifth, +into a prophet or mystic; the sixth, into a poet or imitator; the +seventh, into a husbandman or craftsman; the eighth, into a sophist or +demagogue; the ninth, into a tyrant. All these are states of probation, +wherein he who lives righteously is improved, and he who lives +unrighteously deteriorates. After death comes the judgment; the bad +depart to houses of correction under the earth, the good to places +of joy in heaven. When a thousand years have elapsed the souls meet +together and choose the lives which they will lead for another period of +existence. The soul which three times in succession has chosen the life +of a philosopher or of a lover who is not without philosophy receives +her wings at the close of the third millennium; the remainder have to +complete a cycle of ten thousand years before their wings are restored +to them. Each time there is full liberty of choice. The soul of a man +may descend into a beast, and return again into the form of man. But the +form of man will only be taken by the soul which has once seen truth and +acquired some conception of the universal:--this is the recollection of +the knowledge which she attained when in the company of the Gods. And +men in general recall only with difficulty the things of another world, +but the mind of the philosopher has a better remembrance of them. For +when he beholds the visible beauty of earth his enraptured soul passes +in thought to those glorious sights of justice and wisdom and temperance +and truth which she once gazed upon in heaven. Then she celebrated holy +mysteries and beheld blessed apparitions shining in pure light, herself +pure, and not as yet entombed in the body. And still, like a bird eager +to quit its cage, she flutters and looks upwards, and is therefore +deemed mad. Such a recollection of past days she receives through sight, +the keenest of our senses, because beauty, alone of the ideas, has any +representation on earth: wisdom is invisible to mortal eyes. But the +corrupted nature, blindly excited by this vision of beauty, rushes on +to enjoy, and would fain wallow like a brute beast in sensual pleasures. +Whereas the true mystic, who has seen the many sights of bliss, when he +beholds a god-like form or face is amazed with delight, and if he were +not afraid of being thought mad he would fall down and worship. Then +the stiffened wing begins to relax and grow again; desire which has +been imprisoned pours over the soul of the lover; the germ of the wing +unfolds, and stings, and pangs of birth, like the cutting of teeth, are +everywhere felt. (Compare Symp.) Father and mother, and goods and laws +and proprieties are nothing to him; his beloved is his physician, who +can alone cure his pain. An apocryphal sacred writer says that the power +which thus works in him is by mortals called love, but the immortals +call him dove, or the winged one, in order to represent the force of +his wings--such at any rate is his nature. Now the characters of lovers +depend upon the god whom they followed in the other world; and they +choose their loves in this world accordingly. The followers of Ares +are fierce and violent; those of Zeus seek out some philosophical and +imperial nature; the attendants of Here find a royal love; and in like +manner the followers of every god seek a love who is like their god; and +to him they communicate the nature which they have received from their +god. The manner in which they take their love is as follows:-- + +I told you about the charioteer and his two steeds, the one a noble +animal who is guided by word and admonition only, the other an +ill-looking villain who will hardly yield to blow or spur. Together all +three, who are a figure of the soul, approach the vision of love. And +now a fierce conflict begins. The ill-conditioned steed rushes on to +enjoy, but the charioteer, who beholds the beloved with awe, falls back +in adoration, and forces both the steeds on their haunches; again the +evil steed rushes forwards and pulls shamelessly. The conflict grows +more and more severe; and at last the charioteer, throwing himself +backwards, forces the bit out of the clenched teeth of the brute, and +pulling harder than ever at the reins, covers his tongue and jaws with +blood, and forces him to rest his legs and haunches with pain upon the +ground. When this has happened several times, the villain is tamed and +humbled, and from that time forward the soul of the lover follows the +beloved in modesty and holy fear. And now their bliss is consummated; +the same image of love dwells in the breast of either, and if they have +self-control, they pass their lives in the greatest happiness which is +attainable by man--they continue masters of themselves, and conquer in +one of the three heavenly victories. But if they choose the lower +life of ambition they may still have a happy destiny, though inferior, +because they have not the approval of the whole soul. At last they leave +the body and proceed on their pilgrim's progress, and those who have +once begun can never go back. When the time comes they receive their +wings and fly away, and the lovers have the same wings. + +Socrates concludes:-- + +These are the blessings of love, and thus have I made my recantation in +finer language than before: I did so in order to please Phaedrus. If I +said what was wrong at first, please to attribute my error to Lysias, +who ought to study philosophy instead of rhetoric, and then he will not +mislead his disciple Phaedrus. + +Phaedrus is afraid that he will lose conceit of Lysias, and that Lysias +will be out of conceit with himself, and leave off making speeches, +for the politicians have been deriding him. Socrates is of opinion that +there is small danger of this; the politicians are themselves the +great rhetoricians of the age, who desire to attain immortality by the +authorship of laws. And therefore there is nothing with which they can +reproach Lysias in being a writer; but there may be disgrace in being a +bad one. + +And what is good or bad writing or speaking? While the sun is hot in the +sky above us, let us ask that question: since by rational conversation +man lives, and not by the indulgence of bodily pleasures. And the +grasshoppers who are chirruping around may carry our words to the +Muses, who are their patronesses; for the grasshoppers were human beings +themselves in a world before the Muses, and when the Muses came they +died of hunger for the love of song. And they carry to them in heaven +the report of those who honour them on earth. + +The first rule of good speaking is to know and speak the truth; as a +Spartan proverb says, 'true art is truth'; whereas rhetoric is an art of +enchantment, which makes things appear good and evil, like and unlike, +as the speaker pleases. Its use is not confined, as people commonly +suppose, to arguments in the law courts and speeches in the assembly; +it is rather a part of the art of disputation, under which are included +both the rules of Gorgias and the eristic of Zeno. But it is not wholly +devoid of truth. Superior knowledge enables us to deceive another by the +help of resemblances, and to escape from such a deception when employed +against ourselves. We see therefore that even in rhetoric an element of +truth is required. For if we do not know the truth, we can neither make +the gradual departures from truth by which men are most easily deceived, +nor guard ourselves against deception. + +Socrates then proposes that they shall use the two speeches as +illustrations of the art of rhetoric; first distinguishing between the +debatable and undisputed class of subjects. In the debatable class there +ought to be a definition of all disputed matters. But there was no such +definition in the speech of Lysias; nor is there any order or connection +in his words any more than in a nursery rhyme. With this he compares the +regular divisions of the other speech, which was his own (and yet not +his own, for the local deities must have inspired him). Although only a +playful composition, it will be found to embody two principles: first, +that of synthesis or the comprehension of parts in a whole; secondly, +analysis, or the resolution of the whole into parts. These are the +processes of division and generalization which are so dear to the +dialectician, that king of men. They are effected by dialectic, and +not by rhetoric, of which the remains are but scanty after order and +arrangement have been subtracted. There is nothing left but a heap +of 'ologies' and other technical terms invented by Polus, Theodorus, +Evenus, Tisias, Gorgias, and others, who have rules for everything, and +who teach how to be short or long at pleasure. Prodicus showed his good +sense when he said that there was a better thing than either to be short +or long, which was to be of convenient length. + +Still, notwithstanding the absurdities of Polus and others, rhetoric has +great power in public assemblies. This power, however, is not given by +any technical rules, but is the gift of genius. The real art is always +being confused by rhetoricians with the preliminaries of the art. The +perfection of oratory is like the perfection of anything else; natural +power must be aided by art. But the art is not that which is taught in +the schools of rhetoric; it is nearer akin to philosophy. Pericles, for +instance, who was the most accomplished of all speakers, derived his +eloquence not from rhetoric but from the philosophy of nature which +he learnt of Anaxagoras. True rhetoric is like medicine, and the +rhetorician has to consider the natures of men's souls as the physician +considers the natures of their bodies. Such and such persons are to be +affected in this way, such and such others in that; and he must know the +times and the seasons for saying this or that. This is not an easy task, +and this, if there be such an art, is the art of rhetoric. + +I know that there are some professors of the art who maintain +probability to be stronger than truth. But we maintain that probability +is engendered by likeness of the truth which can only be attained by +the knowledge of it, and that the aim of the good man should not be to +please or persuade his fellow-servants, but to please his good masters +who are the gods. Rhetoric has a fair beginning in this. + +Enough of the art of speaking; let us now proceed to consider the true +use of writing. There is an old Egyptian tale of Theuth, the inventor of +writing, showing his invention to the god Thamus, who told him that he +would only spoil men's memories and take away their understandings. From +this tale, of which young Athens will probably make fun, may be gathered +the lesson that writing is inferior to speech. For it is like a picture, +which can give no answer to a question, and has only a deceitful +likeness of a living creature. It has no power of adaptation, but uses +the same words for all. It is not a legitimate son of knowledge, but a +bastard, and when an attack is made upon this bastard neither parent +nor anyone else is there to defend it. The husbandman will not seriously +incline to sow his seed in such a hot-bed or garden of Adonis; he will +rather sow in the natural soil of the human soul which has depth of +earth; and he will anticipate the inner growth of the mind, by writing +only, if at all, as a remedy against old age. The natural process will +be far nobler, and will bring forth fruit in the minds of others as well +as in his own. + +The conclusion of the whole matter is just this,--that until a man knows +the truth, and the manner of adapting the truth to the natures of other +men, he cannot be a good orator; also, that the living is better than +the written word, and that the principles of justice and truth when +delivered by word of mouth are the legitimate offspring of a man's own +bosom, and their lawful descendants take up their abode in others. +Such an orator as he is who is possessed of them, you and I would fain +become. And to all composers in the world, poets, orators, legislators, +we hereby announce that if their compositions are based upon these +principles, then they are not only poets, orators, legislators, but +philosophers. All others are mere flatterers and putters together of +words. This is the message which Phaedrus undertakes to carry to Lysias +from the local deities, and Socrates himself will carry a similar +message to his favourite Isocrates, whose future distinction as a great +rhetorician he prophesies. The heat of the day has passed, and after +offering up a prayer to Pan and the nymphs, Socrates and Phaedrus +depart. + +There are two principal controversies which have been raised about the +Phaedrus; the first relates to the subject, the second to the date of +the Dialogue. + +There seems to be a notion that the work of a great artist like Plato +cannot fail in unity, and that the unity of a dialogue requires a single +subject. But the conception of unity really applies in very different +degrees and ways to different kinds of art; to a statue, for example, +far more than to any kind of literary composition, and to some species +of literature far more than to others. Nor does the dialogue appear +to be a style of composition in which the requirement of unity is most +stringent; nor should the idea of unity derived from one sort of art +be hastily transferred to another. The double titles of several of the +Platonic Dialogues are a further proof that the severer rule was not +observed by Plato. The Republic is divided between the search after +justice and the construction of the ideal state; the Parmenides between +the criticism of the Platonic ideas and of the Eleatic one or being; +the Gorgias between the art of speaking and the nature of the good; +the Sophist between the detection of the Sophist and the correlation +of ideas. The Theaetetus, the Politicus, and the Philebus have also +digressions which are but remotely connected with the main subject. + +Thus the comparison of Plato's other writings, as well as the reason of +the thing, lead us to the conclusion that we must not expect to find one +idea pervading a whole work, but one, two, or more, as the invention +of the writer may suggest, or his fancy wander. If each dialogue were +confined to the development of a single idea, this would appear on the +face of the dialogue, nor could any controversy be raised as to whether +the Phaedrus treated of love or rhetoric. But the truth is that Plato +subjects himself to no rule of this sort. Like every great artist he +gives unity of form to the different and apparently distracting topics +which he brings together. He works freely and is not to be supposed to +have arranged every part of the dialogue before he begins to write. +He fastens or weaves together the frame of his discourse loosely and +imperfectly, and which is the warp and which is the woof cannot always +be determined. + +The subjects of the Phaedrus (exclusive of the short introductory +passage about mythology which is suggested by the local tradition) are +first the false or conventional art of rhetoric; secondly, love or the +inspiration of beauty and knowledge, which is described as madness; +thirdly, dialectic or the art of composition and division; fourthly, the +true rhetoric, which is based upon dialectic, and is neither the art of +persuasion nor knowledge of the truth alone, but the art of persuasion +founded on knowledge of truth and knowledge of character; fifthly, the +superiority of the spoken over the written word. The continuous thread +which appears and reappears throughout is rhetoric; this is the ground +into which the rest of the Dialogue is worked, in parts embroidered with +fine words which are not in Socrates' manner, as he says, 'in order to +please Phaedrus.' The speech of Lysias which has thrown Phaedrus into an +ecstacy is adduced as an example of the false rhetoric; the first speech +of Socrates, though an improvement, partakes of the same character; his +second speech, which is full of that higher element said to have been +learned of Anaxagoras by Pericles, and which in the midst of poetry does +not forget order, is an illustration of the higher or true rhetoric. +This higher rhetoric is based upon dialectic, and dialectic is a sort +of inspiration akin to love (compare Symp.); in these two aspects of +philosophy the technicalities of rhetoric are absorbed. And so the +example becomes also the deeper theme of discourse. The true knowledge +of things in heaven and earth is based upon enthusiasm or love of +the ideas going before us and ever present to us in this world and in +another; and the true order of speech or writing proceeds accordingly. +Love, again, has three degrees: first, of interested love corresponding +to the conventionalities of rhetoric; secondly, of disinterested or +mad love, fixed on objects of sense, and answering, perhaps, to poetry; +thirdly, of disinterested love directed towards the unseen, answering +to dialectic or the science of the ideas. Lastly, the art of rhetoric +in the lower sense is found to rest on a knowledge of the natures and +characters of men, which Socrates at the commencement of the Dialogue +has described as his own peculiar study. + +Thus amid discord a harmony begins to appear; there are many links of +connection which are not visible at first sight. At the same time the +Phaedrus, although one of the most beautiful of the Platonic Dialogues, +is also more irregular than any other. For insight into the world, for +sustained irony, for depth of thought, there is no Dialogue superior, +or perhaps equal to it. Nevertheless the form of the work has tended to +obscure some of Plato's higher aims. + +The first speech is composed 'in that balanced style in which the wise +love to talk' (Symp.). The characteristics of rhetoric are insipidity, +mannerism, and monotonous parallelism of clauses. There is more rhythm +than reason; the creative power of imagination is wanting. + +''Tis Greece, but living Greece no more.' + +Plato has seized by anticipation the spirit which hung over Greek +literature for a thousand years afterwards. Yet doubtless there were +some who, like Phaedrus, felt a delight in the harmonious cadence and +the pedantic reasoning of the rhetoricians newly imported from Sicily, +which had ceased to be awakened in them by really great works, such as +the odes of Anacreon or Sappho or the orations of Pericles. That the +first speech was really written by Lysias is improbable. Like the poem +of Solon, or the story of Thamus and Theuth, or the funeral oration of +Aspasia (if genuine), or the pretence of Socrates in the Cratylus that +his knowledge of philology is derived from Euthyphro, the invention +is really due to the imagination of Plato, and may be compared to the +parodies of the Sophists in the Protagoras. Numerous fictions of this +sort occur in the Dialogues, and the gravity of Plato has sometimes +imposed upon his commentators. The introduction of a considerable +writing of another would seem not to be in keeping with a great work of +art, and has no parallel elsewhere. + +In the second speech Socrates is exhibited as beating the rhetoricians +at their own weapons; he 'an unpractised man and they masters of the +art.' True to his character, he must, however, profess that the speech +which he makes is not his own, for he knows nothing of himself. (Compare +Symp.) Regarded as a rhetorical exercise, the superiority of his speech +seems to consist chiefly in a better arrangement of the topics; he +begins with a definition of love, and he gives weight to his words by +going back to general maxims; a lesser merit is the greater liveliness +of Socrates, which hurries him into verse and relieves the monotony of +the style. + +But Plato had doubtless a higher purpose than to exhibit Socrates as the +rival or superior of the Athenian rhetoricians. Even in the speech of +Lysias there is a germ of truth, and this is further developed in the +parallel oration of Socrates. First, passionate love is overthrown by +the sophistical or interested, and then both yield to that higher view +of love which is afterwards revealed to us. The extreme of commonplace +is contrasted with the most ideal and imaginative of speculations. +Socrates, half in jest and to satisfy his own wild humour, takes the +disguise of Lysias, but he is also in profound earnest and in a deeper +vein of irony than usual. Having improvised his own speech, which is +based upon the model of the preceding, he condemns them both. Yet the +condemnation is not to be taken seriously, for he is evidently trying +to express an aspect of the truth. To understand him, we must make +abstraction of morality and of the Greek manner of regarding the +relation of the sexes. In this, as in his other discussions about love, +what Plato says of the loves of men must be transferred to the loves +of women before we can attach any serious meaning to his words. Had he +lived in our times he would have made the transposition himself. But +seeing in his own age the impossibility of woman being the intellectual +helpmate or friend of man (except in the rare instances of a Diotima +or an Aspasia), seeing that, even as to personal beauty, her place was +taken by young mankind instead of womankind, he tries to work out the +problem of love without regard to the distinctions of nature. And full +of the evils which he recognized as flowing from the spurious form of +love, he proceeds with a deep meaning, though partly in joke, to show +that the 'non-lover's' love is better than the 'lover's.' + +We may raise the same question in another form: Is marriage preferable +with or without love? 'Among ourselves,' as we may say, a little +parodying the words of Pausanias in the Symposium, 'there would be +one answer to this question: the practice and feeling of some foreign +countries appears to be more doubtful.' Suppose a modern Socrates, +in defiance of the received notions of society and the sentimental +literature of the day, alone against all the writers and readers of +novels, to suggest this enquiry, would not the younger 'part of the +world be ready to take off its coat and run at him might and main?' +(Republic.) Yet, if like Peisthetaerus in Aristophanes, he could +persuade the 'birds' to hear him, retiring a little behind a rampart, +not of pots and dishes, but of unreadable books, he might have something +to say for himself. Might he not argue, 'that a rational being should +not follow the dictates of passion in the most important act of his or +her life'? Who would willingly enter into a contract at first sight, +almost without thought, against the advice and opinion of his friends, +at a time when he acknowledges that he is not in his right mind? And yet +they are praised by the authors of romances, who reject the warnings of +their friends or parents, rather than those who listen to them in such +matters. Two inexperienced persons, ignorant of the world and of one +another, how can they be said to choose?--they draw lots, whence also +the saying, 'marriage is a lottery.' Then he would describe their way of +life after marriage; how they monopolize one another's affections to +the exclusion of friends and relations: how they pass their days in +unmeaning fondness or trivial conversation; how the inferior of the +two drags the other down to his or her level; how the cares of a family +'breed meanness in their souls.' In the fulfilment of military or public +duties, they are not helpers but hinderers of one another: they cannot +undertake any noble enterprise, such as makes the names of men and women +famous, from domestic considerations. Too late their eyes are opened; +they were taken unawares and desire to part company. Better, he would +say, a 'little love at the beginning,' for heaven might have increased +it; but now their foolish fondness has changed into mutual dislike. In +the days of their honeymoon they never understood that they must provide +against offences, that they must have interests, that they must learn +the art of living as well as loving. Our misogamist will not appeal to +Anacreon or Sappho for a confirmation of his view, but to the universal +experience of mankind. How much nobler, in conclusion, he will say, is +friendship, which does not receive unmeaning praises from novelists and +poets, is not exacting or exclusive, is not impaired by familiarity, is +much less expensive, is not so likely to take offence, seldom changes, +and may be dissolved from time to time without the assistance of the +courts. Besides, he will remark that there is a much greater choice of +friends than of wives--you may have more of them and they will be far +more improving to your mind. They will not keep you dawdling at home, or +dancing attendance upon them; or withdraw you from the great world and +stirring scenes of life and action which would make a man of you. + +In such a manner, turning the seamy side outwards, a modern Socrates +might describe the evils of married and domestic life. They are evils +which mankind in general have agreed to conceal, partly because they are +compensated by greater goods. Socrates or Archilochus would soon have +to sing a palinode for the injustice done to lovely Helen, or some +misfortune worse than blindness might be fall them. Then they would take +up their parable again and say:--that there were two loves, a higher and +a lower, holy and unholy, a love of the mind and a love of the body. + + 'Let me not to the marriage of true minds + Admit impediments. Love is not love + Which alters when it alteration finds. + + ..... + + Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks + Within his bending sickle's compass come; + Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, + But bears it out even to the edge of doom.' + +But this true love of the mind cannot exist between two souls, until +they are purified from the grossness of earthly passion: they must pass +through a time of trial and conflict first; in the language of religion +they must be converted or born again. Then they would see the world +transformed into a scene of heavenly beauty; a divine idea would +accompany them in all their thoughts and actions. Something too of the +recollections of childhood might float about them still; they might +regain that old simplicity which had been theirs in other days at their +first entrance on life. And although their love of one another was ever +present to them, they would acknowledge also a higher love of duty and +of God, which united them. And their happiness would depend upon their +preserving in them this principle--not losing the ideals of justice and +holiness and truth, but renewing them at the fountain of light. When +they have attained to this exalted state, let them marry (something too +may be conceded to the animal nature of man): or live together in holy +and innocent friendship. The poet might describe in eloquent words +the nature of such a union; how after many struggles the true love was +found: how the two passed their lives together in the service of God and +man; how their characters were reflected upon one another, and seemed +to grow more like year by year; how they read in one another's eyes the +thoughts, wishes, actions of the other; how they saw each other in God; +how in a figure they grew wings like doves, and were 'ready to fly away +together and be at rest.' And lastly, he might tell how, after a time +at no long intervals, first one and then the other fell asleep, and +'appeared to the unwise' to die, but were reunited in another state of +being, in which they saw justice and holiness and truth, not according +to the imperfect copies of them which are found in this world, but +justice absolute in existence absolute, and so of the rest. And they +would hold converse not only with each other, but with blessed souls +everywhere; and would be employed in the service of God, every soul +fulfilling his own nature and character, and would see into the wonders +of earth and heaven, and trace the works of creation to their author. + +So, partly in jest but also 'with a certain degree of seriousness,' +we may appropriate to ourselves the words of Plato. The use of such a +parody, though very imperfect, is to transfer his thoughts to our sphere +of religion and feeling, to bring him nearer to us and us to him. Like +the Scriptures, Plato admits of endless applications, if we allow for +the difference of times and manners; and we lose the better half of +him when we regard his Dialogues merely as literary compositions. Any +ancient work which is worth reading has a practical and speculative as +well as a literary interest. And in Plato, more than in any other Greek +writer, the local and transitory is inextricably blended with what is +spiritual and eternal. Socrates is necessarily ironical; for he has to +withdraw from the received opinions and beliefs of mankind. We cannot +separate the transitory from the permanent; nor can we translate the +language of irony into that of plain reflection and common sense. But we +can imagine the mind of Socrates in another age and country; and we can +interpret him by analogy with reference to the errors and prejudices +which prevail among ourselves. To return to the Phaedrus:-- + +Both speeches are strongly condemned by Socrates as sinful and +blasphemous towards the god Love, and as worthy only of some haunt of +sailors to which good manners were unknown. The meaning of this and +other wild language to the same effect, which is introduced by way of +contrast to the formality of the two speeches (Socrates has a sense of +relief when he has escaped from the trammels of rhetoric), seems to +be that the two speeches proceed upon the supposition that love is +and ought to be interested, and that no such thing as a real or +disinterested passion, which would be at the same time lasting, could +be conceived. 'But did I call this "love"? O God, forgive my blasphemy. +This is not love. Rather it is the love of the world. But there is +another kingdom of love, a kingdom not of this world, divine, eternal. +And this other love I will now show you in a mystery.' + +Then follows the famous myth, which is a sort of parable, and like other +parables ought not to receive too minute an interpretation. In all such +allegories there is a great deal which is merely ornamental, and the +interpreter has to separate the important from the unimportant. Socrates +himself has given the right clue when, in using his own discourse +afterwards as the text for his examination of rhetoric, he characterizes +it as a 'partly true and tolerably credible mythus,' in which amid +poetical figures, order and arrangement were not forgotten. + +The soul is described in magnificent language as the self-moved and the +source of motion in all other things. This is the philosophical theme or +proem of the whole. But ideas must be given through something, and under +the pretext that to realize the true nature of the soul would be not +only tedious but impossible, we at once pass on to describe the souls +of gods as well as men under the figure of two winged steeds and a +charioteer. No connection is traced between the soul as the great motive +power and the triple soul which is thus imaged. There is no difficulty +in seeing that the charioteer represents the reason, or that the black +horse is the symbol of the sensual or concupiscent element of human +nature. The white horse also represents rational impulse, but the +description, 'a lover of honour and modesty and temperance, and a +follower of true glory,' though similar, does not at once recall the +'spirit' (thumos) of the Republic. The two steeds really correspond in a +figure more nearly to the appetitive and moral or semi-rational soul +of Aristotle. And thus, for the first time perhaps in the history +of philosophy, we have represented to us the threefold division of +psychology. The image of the charioteer and the steeds has been compared +with a similar image which occurs in the verses of Parmenides; but it +is important to remark that the horses of Parmenides have no allegorical +meaning, and that the poet is only describing his own approach in a +chariot to the regions of light and the house of the goddess of truth. + +The triple soul has had a previous existence, in which following in +the train of some god, from whom she derived her character, she beheld +partially and imperfectly the vision of absolute truth. All her +after existence, passed in many forms of men and animals, is spent in +regaining this. The stages of the conflict are many and various; and +she is sorely let and hindered by the animal desires of the inferior or +concupiscent steed. Again and again she beholds the flashing beauty of +the beloved. But before that vision can be finally enjoyed the animal +desires must be subjected. + +The moral or spiritual element in man is represented by the immortal +steed which, like thumos in the Republic, always sides with the reason. +Both are dragged out of their course by the furious impulses of desire. +In the end something is conceded to the desires, after they have been +finally humbled and overpowered. And yet the way of philosophy, or +perfect love of the unseen, is total abstinence from bodily delights. +'But all men cannot receive this saying': in the lower life of ambition +they may be taken off their guard and stoop to folly unawares, and then, +although they do not attain to the highest bliss, yet if they have once +conquered they may be happy enough. + +The language of the Meno and the Phaedo as well as of the Phaedrus +seems to show that at one time of his life Plato was quite serious in +maintaining a former state of existence. His mission was to realize the +abstract; in that, all good and truth, all the hopes of this and another +life seemed to centre. To him abstractions, as we call them, were +another kind of knowledge--an inner and unseen world, which seemed +to exist far more truly than the fleeting objects of sense which were +without him. When we are once able to imagine the intense power which +abstract ideas exercised over the mind of Plato, we see that there was +no more difficulty to him in realizing the eternal existence of them +and of the human minds which were associated with them, in the past and +future than in the present. The difficulty was not how they could exist, +but how they could fail to exist. In the attempt to regain this 'saving' +knowledge of the ideas, the sense was found to be as great an enemy as +the desires; and hence two things which to us seem quite distinct are +inextricably blended in the representation of Plato. + +Thus far we may believe that Plato was serious in his conception of the +soul as a motive power, in his reminiscence of a former state of being, +in his elevation of the reason over sense and passion, and perhaps in +his doctrine of transmigration. Was he equally serious in the rest? For +example, are we to attribute his tripartite division of the soul to the +gods? Or is this merely assigned to them by way of parallelism with men? +The latter is the more probable; for the horses of the gods are both +white, i.e. their every impulse is in harmony with reason; their +dualism, on the other hand, only carries out the figure of the chariot. +Is he serious, again, in regarding love as 'a madness'? That seems to +arise out of the antithesis to the former conception of love. At the +same time he appears to intimate here, as in the Ion, Apology, Meno, +and elsewhere, that there is a faculty in man, whether to be termed in +modern language genius, or inspiration, or imagination, or idealism, +or communion with God, which cannot be reduced to rule and measure. +Perhaps, too, he is ironically repeating the common language of mankind +about philosophy, and is turning their jest into a sort of earnest. +(Compare Phaedo, Symp.) Or is he serious in holding that each soul bears +the character of a god? He may have had no other account to give of +the differences of human characters to which he afterwards refers. Or, +again, in his absurd derivation of mantike and oionistike and imeros +(compare Cratylus)? It is characteristic of the irony of Socrates to +mix up sense and nonsense in such a way that no exact line can be drawn +between them. And allegory helps to increase this sort of confusion. + +As is often the case in the parables and prophecies of Scripture, the +meaning is allowed to break through the figure, and the details are not +always consistent. When the charioteers and their steeds stand upon the +dome of heaven they behold the intangible invisible essences which +are not objects of sight. This is because the force of language can +no further go. Nor can we dwell much on the circumstance, that at the +completion of ten thousand years all are to return to the place from +whence they came; because he represents their return as dependent on +their own good conduct in the successive stages of existence. Nor again +can we attribute anything to the accidental inference which would also +follow, that even a tyrant may live righteously in the condition of life +to which fate has called him ('he aiblins might, I dinna ken'). But +to suppose this would be at variance with Plato himself and with Greek +notions generally. He is much more serious in distinguishing men from +animals by their recognition of the universal which they have known in +a former state, and in denying that this gift of reason can ever be +obliterated or lost. In the language of some modern theologians he might +be said to maintain the 'final perseverance' of those who have entered +on their pilgrim's progress. Other intimations of a 'metaphysic' or +'theology' of the future may also be discerned in him: (1) The moderate +predestinarianism which here, as in the Republic, acknowledges the +element of chance in human life, and yet asserts the freedom and +responsibility of man; (2) The recognition of a moral as well as an +intellectual principle in man under the image of an immortal steed; (3) +The notion that the divine nature exists by the contemplation of +ideas of virtue and justice--or, in other words, the assertion of the +essentially moral nature of God; (4) Again, there is the hint that human +life is a life of aspiration only, and that the true ideal is not to +be found in art; (5) There occurs the first trace of the distinction +between necessary and contingent matter; (6) The conception of the soul +itself as the motive power and reason of the universe. + +The conception of the philosopher, or the philosopher and lover in one, +as a sort of madman, may be compared with the Republic and Theaetetus, +in both of which the philosopher is regarded as a stranger and monster +upon the earth. The whole myth, like the other myths of Plato, describes +in a figure things which are beyond the range of human faculties, or +inaccessible to the knowledge of the age. That philosophy should be +represented as the inspiration of love is a conception that has already +become familiar to us in the Symposium, and is the expression partly of +Plato's enthusiasm for the idea, and is also an indication of the real +power exercised by the passion of friendship over the mind of the Greek. +The master in the art of love knew that there was a mystery in these +feelings and their associations, and especially in the contrast of +the sensible and permanent which is afforded by them; and he sought +to explain this, as he explained universal ideas, by a reference to a +former state of existence. The capriciousness of love is also derived +by him from an attachment to some god in a former world. The singular +remark that the beloved is more affected than the lover at the final +consummation of their love, seems likewise to hint at a psychological +truth. + +It is difficult to exhaust the meanings of a work like the Phaedrus, +which indicates so much more than it expresses; and is full of +inconsistencies and ambiguities which were not perceived by Plato +himself. For example, when he is speaking of the soul does he mean the +human or the divine soul? and are they both equally self-moving and +constructed on the same threefold principle? We should certainly be +disposed to reply that the self-motive is to be attributed to God only; +and on the other hand that the appetitive and passionate elements have +no place in His nature. So we should infer from the reason of the thing, +but there is no indication in Plato's own writings that this was his +meaning. Or, again, when he explains the different characters of men +by referring them back to the nature of the God whom they served in a +former state of existence, we are inclined to ask whether he is serious: +Is he not rather using a mythological figure, here as elsewhere, to draw +a veil over things which are beyond the limits of mortal knowledge? Once +more, in speaking of beauty is he really thinking of some external form +such as might have been expressed in the works of Phidias or Praxiteles; +and not rather of an imaginary beauty, of a sort which extinguishes +rather than stimulates vulgar love,--a heavenly beauty like that which +flashed from time to time before the eyes of Dante or Bunyan? Surely +the latter. But it would be idle to reconcile all the details of the +passage: it is a picture, not a system, and a picture which is for the +greater part an allegory, and an allegory which allows the meaning to +come through. The image of the charioteer and his steeds is placed side +by side with the absolute forms of justice, temperance, and the like, +which are abstract ideas only, and which are seen with the eye of the +soul in her heavenly journey. The first impression of such a passage, in +which no attempt is made to separate the substance from the form, is far +truer than an elaborate philosophical analysis. + +It is too often forgotten that the whole of the second discourse of +Socrates is only an allegory, or figure of speech. For this reason, it +is unnecessary to enquire whether the love of which Plato speaks is +the love of men or of women. It is really a general idea which includes +both, and in which the sensual element, though not wholly eradicated, is +reduced to order and measure. We must not attribute a meaning to +every fanciful detail. Nor is there any need to call up revolting +associations, which as a matter of good taste should be banished, and +which were far enough away from the mind of Plato. These and similar +passages should be interpreted by the Laws. Nor is there anything in the +Symposium, or in the Charmides, in reality inconsistent with the sterner +rule which Plato lays down in the Laws. At the same time it is not to be +denied that love and philosophy are described by Socrates in figures +of speech which would not be used in Christian times; or that nameless +vices were prevalent at Athens and in other Greek cities; or that +friendships between men were a more sacred tie, and had a more important +social and educational influence than among ourselves. (See note on +Symposium.) + +In the Phaedrus, as well as in the Symposium, there are two kinds of +love, a lower and a higher, the one answering to the natural wants of +the animal, the other rising above them and contemplating with religious +awe the forms of justice, temperance, holiness, yet finding them +also 'too dazzling bright for mortal eye,' and shrinking from them +in amazement. The opposition between these two kinds of love may be +compared to the opposition between the flesh and the spirit in the +Epistles of St. Paul. It would be unmeaning to suppose that Plato, in +describing the spiritual combat, in which the rational soul is +finally victor and master of both the steeds, condescends to allow any +indulgence of unnatural lusts. + +Two other thoughts about love are suggested by this passage. First of +all, love is represented here, as in the Symposium, as one of the great +powers of nature, which takes many forms and two principal ones, having +a predominant influence over the lives of men. And these two, though +opposed, are not absolutely separated the one from the other. Plato, +with his great knowledge of human nature, was well aware how easily +one is transformed into the other, or how soon the noble but fleeting +aspiration may return into the nature of the animal, while the +lower instinct which is latent always remains. The intermediate +sentimentalism, which has exercised so great an influence on the +literature of modern Europe, had no place in the classical times of +Hellas; the higher love, of which Plato speaks, is the subject, not of +poetry or fiction, but of philosophy. + +Secondly, there seems to be indicated a natural yearning of the human +mind that the great ideas of justice, temperance, wisdom, should be +expressed in some form of visible beauty, like the absolute purity and +goodness which Christian art has sought to realize in the person of +the Madonna. But although human nature has often attempted to represent +outwardly what can be only 'spiritually discerned,' men feel that in +pictures and images, whether painted or carved, or described in words +only, we have not the substance but the shadow of the truth which is in +heaven. There is no reason to suppose that in the fairest works of Greek +art, Plato ever conceived himself to behold an image, however faint, of +ideal truths. 'Not in that way was wisdom seen.' + +We may now pass on to the second part of the Dialogue, which is a +criticism on the first. Rhetoric is assailed on various grounds: first, +as desiring to persuade, without a knowledge of the truth; and secondly, +as ignoring the distinction between certain and probable matter. The +three speeches are then passed in review: the first of them has no +definition of the nature of love, and no order in the topics (being in +these respects far inferior to the second); while the third of them is +found (though a fancy of the hour) to be framed upon real dialectical +principles. But dialectic is not rhetoric; nothing on that subject is to +be found in the endless treatises of rhetoric, however prolific in hard +names. When Plato has sufficiently put them to the test of ridicule he +touches, as with the point of a needle, the real error, which is the +confusion of preliminary knowledge with creative power. No attainments +will provide the speaker with genius; and the sort of attainments which +can alone be of any value are the higher philosophy and the power of +psychological analysis, which is given by dialectic, but not by the +rules of the rhetoricians. + +In this latter portion of the Dialogue there are many texts which may +help us to speak and to think. The names dialectic and rhetoric are +passing out of use; we hardly examine seriously into their nature and +limits, and probably the arts both of speaking and of conversation have +been unduly neglected by us. But the mind of Socrates pierces through +the differences of times and countries into the essential nature of man; +and his words apply equally to the modern world and to the Athenians of +old. Would he not have asked of us, or rather is he not asking of us, +Whether we have ceased to prefer appearances to reality? Let us take +a survey of the professions to which he refers and try them by his +standard. Is not all literature passing into criticism, just as Athenian +literature in the age of Plato was degenerating into sophistry and +rhetoric? We can discourse and write about poems and paintings, but we +seem to have lost the gift of creating them. Can we wonder that few +of them 'come sweetly from nature,' while ten thousand reviewers (mala +murioi) are engaged in dissecting them? Young men, like Phaedrus, are +enamoured of their own literary clique and have but a feeble sympathy +with the master-minds of former ages. They recognize 'a POETICAL +necessity in the writings of their favourite author, even when he boldly +wrote off just what came in his head.' They are beginning to think that +Art is enough, just at the time when Art is about to disappear from the +world. And would not a great painter, such as Michael Angelo, or a great +poet, such as Shakespeare, returning to earth, 'courteously rebuke' +us--would he not say that we are putting 'in the place of Art the +preliminaries of Art,' confusing Art the expression of mind and truth +with Art the composition of colours and forms; and perhaps he might +more severely chastise some of us for trying to invent 'a new shudder' +instead of bringing to the birth living and healthy creations? These he +would regard as the signs of an age wanting in original power. + +Turning from literature and the arts to law and politics, again we fall +under the lash of Socrates. For do we not often make 'the worse appear +the better cause;' and do not 'both parties sometimes agree to tell +lies'? Is not pleading 'an art of speaking unconnected with the truth'? +There is another text of Socrates which must not be forgotten in +relation to this subject. In the endless maze of English law is there +any 'dividing the whole into parts or reuniting the parts into a +whole'--any semblance of an organized being 'having hands and feet and +other members'? Instead of a system there is the Chaos of Anaxagoras +(omou panta chremata) and no Mind or Order. Then again in the noble +art of politics, who thinks of first principles and of true ideas? +We avowedly follow not the truth but the will of the many (compare +Republic). Is not legislation too a sort of literary effort, and might +not statesmanship be described as the 'art of enchanting' the house? +While there are some politicians who have no knowledge of the truth, but +only of what is likely to be approved by 'the many who sit in judgment,' +there are others who can give no form to their ideal, neither having +learned 'the art of persuasion,' nor having any insight into the +'characters of men.' Once more, has not medical science become a +professional routine, which many 'practise without being able to say +who were their instructors'--the application of a few drugs taken from +a book instead of a life-long study of the natures and constitutions of +human beings? Do we see as clearly as Hippocrates 'that the nature of +the body can only be understood as a whole'? (Compare Charm.) And are +not they held to be the wisest physicians who have the greatest distrust +of their art? What would Socrates think of our newspapers, of our +theology? Perhaps he would be afraid to speak of them;--the one vox +populi, the other vox Dei, he might hesitate to attack them; or he might +trace a fanciful connexion between them, and ask doubtfully, whether +they are not equally inspired? He would remark that we are always +searching for a belief and deploring our unbelief, seeming to prefer +popular opinions unverified and contradictory to unpopular truths which +are assured to us by the most certain proofs: that our preachers are +in the habit of praising God 'without regard to truth and falsehood, +attributing to Him every species of greatness and glory, saying that He +is all this and the cause of all that, in order that we may exhibit Him +as the fairest and best of all' (Symp.) without any consideration of +His real nature and character or of the laws by which He governs the +world--seeking for a 'private judgment' and not for the truth or 'God's +judgment.' What would he say of the Church, which we praise in like +manner, 'meaning ourselves,' without regard to history or experience? +Might he not ask, whether we 'care more for the truth of religion, or +for the speaker and the country from which the truth comes'? or, whether +the 'select wise' are not 'the many' after all? (Symp.) So we may fill +up the sketch of Socrates, lest, as Phaedrus says, the argument should +be too 'abstract and barren of illustrations.' (Compare Symp., Apol., +Euthyphro.) + +He next proceeds with enthusiasm to define the royal art of dialectic as +the power of dividing a whole into parts, and of uniting the parts in a +whole, and which may also be regarded (compare Soph.) as the process of +the mind talking with herself. The latter view has probably led Plato +to the paradox that speech is superior to writing, in which he may seem +also to be doing an injustice to himself. For the two cannot be fairly +compared in the manner which Plato suggests. The contrast of the living +and dead word, and the example of Socrates, which he has represented +in the form of the Dialogue, seem to have misled him. For speech and +writing have really different functions; the one is more transitory, +more diffuse, more elastic and capable of adaptation to moods and times; +the other is more permanent, more concentrated, and is uttered not to +this or that person or audience, but to all the world. In the Politicus +the paradox is carried further; the mind or will of the king is +preferred to the written law; he is supposed to be the Law personified, +the ideal made Life. + +Yet in both these statements there is also contained a truth; they may +be compared with one another, and also with the other famous paradox, +that 'knowledge cannot be taught.' Socrates means to say, that what is +truly written is written in the soul, just as what is truly taught grows +up in the soul from within and is not forced upon it from without. When +planted in a congenial soil the little seed becomes a tree, and 'the +birds of the air build their nests in the branches.' There is an echo +of this in the prayer at the end of the Dialogue, 'Give me beauty in +the inward soul, and may the inward and outward man be at one.' We may +further compare the words of St. Paul, 'Written not on tables of stone, +but on fleshly tables of the heart;' and again, 'Ye are my epistles +known and read of all men.' There may be a use in writing as a +preservative against the forgetfulness of old age, but to live is higher +far, to be ourselves the book, or the epistle, the truth embodied in a +person, the Word made flesh. Something like this we may believe to have +passed before Plato's mind when he affirmed that speech was superior to +writing. So in other ages, weary of literature and criticism, of making +many books, of writing articles in reviews, some have desired to live +more closely in communion with their fellow-men, to speak heart to +heart, to speak and act only, and not to write, following the example of +Socrates and of Christ... + +Some other touches of inimitable grace and art and of the deepest wisdom +may be also noted; such as the prayer or 'collect' which has just been +cited, 'Give me beauty,' etc.; or 'the great name which belongs to God +alone;' or 'the saying of wiser men than ourselves that a man of sense +should try to please not his fellow-servants, but his good and noble +masters,' like St. Paul again; or the description of the 'heavenly +originals'... + +The chief criteria for determining the date of the Dialogue are (1) the +ages of Lysias and Isocrates; (2) the character of the work. + +Lysias was born in the year 458; Isocrates in the year 436, about seven +years before the birth of Plato. The first of the two great rhetoricians +is described as in the zenith of his fame; the second is still young and +full of promise. Now it is argued that this must have been written in +the youth of Isocrates, when the promise was not yet fulfilled. And thus +we should have to assign the Dialogue to a year not later than 406, +when Isocrates was thirty and Plato twenty-three years of age, and while +Socrates himself was still alive. + +Those who argue in this way seem not to reflect how easily Plato +can 'invent Egyptians or anything else,' and how careless he is of +historical truth or probability. Who would suspect that the wise +Critias, the virtuous Charmides, had ended their lives among the +thirty tyrants? Who would imagine that Lysias, who is here assailed +by Socrates, is the son of his old friend Cephalus? Or that Isocrates +himself is the enemy of Plato and his school? No arguments can be drawn +from the appropriateness or inappropriateness of the characters of +Plato. (Else, perhaps, it might be further argued that, judging from +their extant remains, insipid rhetoric is far more characteristic of +Isocrates than of Lysias.) But Plato makes use of names which have +often hardly any connection with the historical characters to whom they +belong. In this instance the comparative favour shown to Isocrates may +possibly be accounted for by the circumstance of his belonging to the +aristocratical, as Lysias to the democratical party. + +Few persons will be inclined to suppose, in the superficial manner +of some ancient critics, that a dialogue which treats of love must +necessarily have been written in youth. As little weight can be attached +to the argument that Plato must have visited Egypt before he wrote the +story of Theuth and Thamus. For there is no real proof that he ever went +to Egypt; and even if he did, he might have known or invented Egyptian +traditions before he went there. The late date of the Phaedrus will have +to be established by other arguments than these: the maturity of the +thought, the perfection of the style, the insight, the relation to the +other Platonic Dialogues, seem to contradict the notion that it could +have been the work of a youth of twenty or twenty-three years of age. +The cosmological notion of the mind as the primum mobile, and the +admission of impulse into the immortal nature, also afford grounds for +assigning a later date. (Compare Tim., Soph., Laws.) Add to this that +the picture of Socrates, though in some lesser particulars,--e.g. his +going without sandals, his habit of remaining within the walls, +his emphatic declaration that his study is human nature,--an exact +resemblance, is in the main the Platonic and not the real Socrates. Can +we suppose 'the young man to have told such lies' about his master +while he was still alive? Moreover, when two Dialogues are so closely +connected as the Phaedrus and Symposium, there is great improbability in +supposing that one of them was written at least twenty years after the +other. The conclusion seems to be, that the Dialogue was written at +some comparatively late but unknown period of Plato's life, after he had +deserted the purely Socratic point of view, but before he had entered +on the more abstract speculations of the Sophist or the Philebus. Taking +into account the divisions of the soul, the doctrine of transmigration, +the contemplative nature of the philosophic life, and the character +of the style, we shall not be far wrong in placing the Phaedrus in the +neighbourhood of the Republic; remarking only that allowance must be +made for the poetical element in the Phaedrus, which, while falling +short of the Republic in definite philosophic results, seems to have +glimpses of a truth beyond. + +Two short passages, which are unconnected with the main subject of the +Dialogue, may seem to merit a more particular notice: (1) the locus +classicus about mythology; (2) the tale of the grasshoppers. + +The first passage is remarkable as showing that Plato was entirely +free from what may be termed the Euhemerism of his age. For there were +Euhemerists in Hellas long before Euhemerus. Early philosophers, like +Anaxagoras and Metrodorus, had found in Homer and mythology hidden +meanings. Plato, with a truer instinct, rejects these attractive +interpretations; he regards the inventor of them as 'unfortunate;' and +they draw a man off from the knowledge of himself. There is a latent +criticism, and also a poetical sense in Plato, which enable him to +discard them, and yet in another way to make use of poetry and mythology +as a vehicle of thought and feeling. What would he have said of the +discovery of Christian doctrines in these old Greek legends? While +acknowledging that such interpretations are 'very nice,' would he not +have remarked that they are found in all sacred literatures? They cannot +be tested by any criterion of truth, or used to establish any truth; +they add nothing to the sum of human knowledge; they are--what we +please, and if employed as 'peacemakers' between the new and old are +liable to serious misconstruction, as he elsewhere remarks (Republic). +And therefore he would have 'bid Farewell to them; the study of them +would take up too much of his time; and he has not as yet learned the +true nature of religion.' The 'sophistical' interest of Phaedrus, the +little touch about the two versions of the story, the ironical manner in +which these explanations are set aside--'the common opinion about them +is enough for me'--the allusion to the serpent Typho may be noted in +passing; also the general agreement between the tone of this speech and +the remark of Socrates which follows afterwards, 'I am a diviner, but a +poor one.' + +The tale of the grasshoppers is naturally suggested by the surrounding +scene. They are also the representatives of the Athenians as children +of the soil. Under the image of the lively chirruping grasshoppers who +inform the Muses in heaven about those who honour them on earth, Plato +intends to represent an Athenian audience (tettigessin eoikotes). The +story is introduced, apparently, to mark a change of subject, and also, +like several other allusions which occur in the course of the Dialogue, +in order to preserve the scene in the recollection of the reader. + +***** + +No one can duly appreciate the dialogues of Plato, especially the +Phaedrus, Symposium, and portions of the Republic, who has not a +sympathy with mysticism. To the uninitiated, as he would himself +have acknowledged, they will appear to be the dreams of a poet who +is disguised as a philosopher. There is a twofold difficulty in +apprehending this aspect of the Platonic writings. First, we do not +immediately realize that under the marble exterior of Greek literature +was concealed a soul thrilling with spiritual emotion. Secondly, the +forms or figures which the Platonic philosophy assumes, are not like the +images of the prophet Isaiah, or of the Apocalypse, familiar to us in +the days of our youth. By mysticism we mean, not the extravagance of +an erring fancy, but the concentration of reason in feeling, the +enthusiastic love of the good, the true, the one, the sense of the +infinity of knowledge and of the marvel of the human faculties. When +feeding upon such thoughts the 'wing of the soul' is renewed and +gains strength; she is raised above 'the manikins of earth' and their +opinions, waiting in wonder to know, and working with reverence to find +out what God in this or in another life may reveal to her. + + +ON THE DECLINE OF GREEK LITERATURE. + +One of the main purposes of Plato in the Phaedrus is to satirize +Rhetoric, or rather the Professors of Rhetoric who swarmed at Athens in +the fourth century before Christ. As in the opening of the Dialogue he +ridicules the interpreters of mythology; as in the Protagoras he mocks +at the Sophists; as in the Euthydemus he makes fun of the word-splitting +Eristics; as in the Cratylus he ridicules the fancies of Etymologers; +as in the Meno and Gorgias and some other dialogues he makes reflections +and casts sly imputation upon the higher classes at Athens; so in +the Phaedrus, chiefly in the latter part, he aims his shafts at the +rhetoricians. The profession of rhetoric was the greatest and most +popular in Athens, necessary 'to a man's salvation,' or at any rate to +his attainment of wealth or power; but Plato finds nothing wholesome +or genuine in the purpose of it. It is a veritable 'sham,' having no +relation to fact, or to truth of any kind. It is antipathetic to him not +only as a philosopher, but also as a great writer. He cannot abide the +tricks of the rhetoricians, or the pedantries and mannerisms which they +introduce into speech and writing. He sees clearly how far removed they +are from the ways of simplicity and truth, and how ignorant of the very +elements of the art which they are professing to teach. The thing which +is most necessary of all, the knowledge of human nature, is hardly if +at all considered by them. The true rules of composition, which are +very few, are not to be found in their voluminous systems. Their +pretentiousness, their omniscience, their large fortunes, their +impatience of argument, their indifference to first principles, their +stupidity, their progresses through Hellas accompanied by a troop +of their disciples--these things were very distasteful to Plato, who +esteemed genius far above art, and was quite sensible of the interval +which separated them (Phaedrus). It is the interval which separates +Sophists and rhetoricians from ancient famous men and women such as +Homer and Hesiod, Anacreon and Sappho, Aeschylus and Sophocles; and the +Platonic Socrates is afraid that, if he approves the former, he will be +disowned by the latter. The spirit of rhetoric was soon to overspread +all Hellas; and Plato with prophetic insight may have seen, from afar, +the great literary waste or dead level, or interminable marsh, in which +Greek literature was soon to disappear. A similar vision of the decline +of the Greek drama and of the contrast of the old literature and the +new was present to the mind of Aristophanes after the death of the three +great tragedians (Frogs). After about a hundred, or at most two hundred +years if we exclude Homer, the genius of Hellas had ceased to flower or +blossom. The dreary waste which follows, beginning with the Alexandrian +writers and even before them in the platitudes of Isocrates and his +school, spreads over much more than a thousand years. And from this +decline the Greek language and literature, unlike the Latin, which has +come to life in new forms and been developed into the great European +languages, never recovered. + +This monotony of literature, without merit, without genius and without +character, is a phenomenon which deserves more attention than it has +hitherto received; it is a phenomenon unique in the literary history +of the world. How could there have been so much cultivation, so much +diligence in writing, and so little mind or real creative power? Why +did a thousand years invent nothing better than Sibylline books, +Orphic poems, Byzantine imitations of classical histories, Christian +reproductions of Greek plays, novels like the silly and obscene romances +of Longus and Heliodorus, innumerable forged epistles, a great many +epigrams, biographies of the meanest and most meagre description, a sham +philosophy which was the bastard progeny of the union between Hellas +and the East? Only in Plutarch, in Lucian, in Longinus, in the Roman +emperors Marcus Aurelius and Julian, in some of the Christian fathers +are there any traces of good sense or originality, or any power of +arousing the interest of later ages. And when new books ceased to be +written, why did hosts of grammarians and interpreters flock in, who +never attain to any sound notion either of grammar or interpretation? +Why did the physical sciences never arrive at any true knowledge or make +any real progress? Why did poetry droop and languish? Why did history +degenerate into fable? Why did words lose their power of expression? +Why were ages of external greatness and magnificence attended by all the +signs of decay in the human mind which are possible? + +To these questions many answers may be given, which if not the true +causes, are at least to be reckoned among the symptoms of the decline. +There is the want of method in physical science, the want of criticism +in history, the want of simplicity or delicacy in poetry, the want of +political freedom, which is the true atmosphere of public speaking, in +oratory. The ways of life were luxurious and commonplace. Philosophy had +become extravagant, eclectic, abstract, devoid of any real content. At +length it ceased to exist. It had spread words like plaster over the +whole field of knowledge. It had grown ascetic on one side, mystical +on the other. Neither of these tendencies was favourable to literature. +There was no sense of beauty either in language or in art. The Greek +world became vacant, barbaric, oriental. No one had anything new to say, +or any conviction of truth. The age had no remembrance of the past, no +power of understanding what other ages thought and felt. The Catholic +faith had degenerated into dogma and controversy. For more than +a thousand years not a single writer of first-rate, or even of +second-rate, reputation has a place in the innumerable rolls of Greek +literature. + +If we seek to go deeper, we can still only describe the outward nature +of the clouds or darkness which were spread over the heavens during so +many ages without relief or light. We may say that this, like several +other long periods in the history of the human race, was destitute, +or deprived of the moral qualities which are the root of literary +excellence. It had no life or aspiration, no national or political +force, no desire for consistency, no love of knowledge for its own sake. +It did not attempt to pierce the mists which surrounded it. It did not +propose to itself to go forward and scale the heights of knowledge, but +to go backwards and seek at the beginning what can only be found towards +the end. It was lost in doubt and ignorance. It rested upon tradition +and authority. It had none of the higher play of fancy which creates +poetry; and where there is no true poetry, neither can there be any +good prose. It had no great characters, and therefore it had no great +writers. It was incapable of distinguishing between words and things. It +was so hopelessly below the ancient standard of classical Greek art and +literature that it had no power of understanding or of valuing them. It +is doubtful whether any Greek author was justly appreciated in antiquity +except by his own contemporaries; and this neglect of the great authors +of the past led to the disappearance of the larger part of them, while +the Greek fathers were mostly preserved. There is no reason to suppose +that, in the century before the taking of Constantinople, much more was +in existence than the scholars of the Renaissance carried away with them +to Italy. + +The character of Greek literature sank lower as time went on. It +consisted more and more of compilations, of scholia, of extracts, of +commentaries, forgeries, imitations. The commentator or interpreter had +no conception of his author as a whole, and very little of the context +of any passage which he was explaining. The least things were preferred +by him to the greatest. The question of a reading, or a grammatical +form, or an accent, or the uses of a word, took the place of the aim or +subject of the book. He had no sense of the beauties of an author, and +very little light is thrown by him on real difficulties. He interprets +past ages by his own. The greatest classical writers are the least +appreciated by him. This seems to be the reason why so many of them have +perished, why the lyric poets have almost wholly disappeared; why, out +of the eighty or ninety tragedies of Aeschylus and Sophocles, only seven +of each had been preserved. + +Such an age of sciolism and scholasticism may possibly once more get +the better of the literary world. There are those who prophesy that the +signs of such a day are again appearing among us, and that at the end +of the present century no writer of the first class will be still alive. +They think that the Muse of Literature may transfer herself to other +countries less dried up or worn out than our own. They seem to see the +withering effect of criticism on original genius. No one can doubt that +such a decay or decline of literature and of art seriously affects +the manners and character of a nation. It takes away half the joys and +refinements of life; it increases its dulness and grossness. Hence it +becomes a matter of great interest to consider how, if at all, such a +degeneracy may be averted. Is there any elixir which can restore life +and youth to the literature of a nation, or at any rate which can +prevent it becoming unmanned and enfeebled? + +First there is the progress of education. It is possible, and even +probable, that the extension of the means of knowledge over a wider +area and to persons living under new conditions may lead to many new +combinations of thought and language. But, as yet, experience does +not favour the realization of such a hope or promise. It may be truly +answered that at present the training of teachers and the methods of +education are very imperfect, and therefore that we cannot judge of the +future by the present. When more of our youth are trained in the best +literatures, and in the best parts of them, their minds may be expected +to have a larger growth. They will have more interests, more thoughts, +more material for conversation; they will have a higher standard and +begin to think for themselves. The number of persons who will have the +opportunity of receiving the highest education through the cheap press, +and by the help of high schools and colleges, may increase tenfold. It +is likely that in every thousand persons there is at least one who is +far above the average in natural capacity, but the seed which is in him +dies for want of cultivation. It has never had any stimulus to grow, +or any field in which to blossom and produce fruit. Here is a great +reservoir or treasure-house of human intelligence out of which new +waters may flow and cover the earth. If at any time the great men of +the world should die out, and originality or genius appear to suffer +a partial eclipse, there is a boundless hope in the multitude of +intelligences for future generations. They may bring gifts to men such +as the world has never received before. They may begin at a higher point +and yet take with them all the results of the past. The co-operation of +many may have effects not less striking, though different in character +from those which the creative genius of a single man, such as Bacon or +Newton, formerly produced. There is also great hope to be derived, not +merely from the extension of education over a wider area, but from the +continuance of it during many generations. Educated parents will have +children fit to receive education; and these again will grow up under +circumstances far more favourable to the growth of intelligence than any +which have hitherto existed in our own or in former ages. + +Even if we were to suppose no more men of genius to be produced, the +great writers of ancient or of modern times will remain to furnish +abundant materials of education to the coming generation. Now that +every nation holds communication with every other, we may truly say in +a fuller sense than formerly that 'the thoughts of men are widened +with the process of the suns.' They will not be 'cribbed, cabined, and +confined' within a province or an island. The East will provide elements +of culture to the West as well as the West to the East. The religions +and literatures of the world will be open books, which he who wills may +read. The human race may not be always ground down by bodily toil, but +may have greater leisure for the improvement of the mind. The increasing +sense of the greatness and infinity of nature will tend to awaken in men +larger and more liberal thoughts. The love of mankind may be the source +of a greater development of literature than nationality has ever been. +There may be a greater freedom from prejudice and party; we may better +understand the whereabouts of truth, and therefore there may be more +success and fewer failures in the search for it. Lastly, in the coming +ages we shall carry with us the recollection of the past, in which +are necessarily contained many seeds of revival and renaissance in the +future. So far is the world from becoming exhausted, so groundless is +the fear that literature will ever die out. + + + + +PHAEDRUS + + +PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: Socrates, Phaedrus. + +SCENE: Under a plane-tree, by the banks of the Ilissus. + + +SOCRATES: My dear Phaedrus, whence come you, and whither are you going? + +PHAEDRUS: I come from Lysias the son of Cephalus, and I am going to +take a walk outside the wall, for I have been sitting with him the whole +morning; and our common friend Acumenus tells me that it is much more +refreshing to walk in the open air than to be shut up in a cloister. + +SOCRATES: There he is right. Lysias then, I suppose, was in the town? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, he was staying with Epicrates, here at the house of +Morychus; that house which is near the temple of Olympian Zeus. + +SOCRATES: And how did he entertain you? Can I be wrong in supposing that +Lysias gave you a feast of discourse? + +PHAEDRUS: You shall hear, if you can spare time to accompany me. + +SOCRATES: And should I not deem the conversation of you and Lysias 'a +thing of higher import,' as I may say in the words of Pindar, 'than any +business'? + +PHAEDRUS: Will you go on? + +SOCRATES: And will you go on with the narration? + +PHAEDRUS: My tale, Socrates, is one of your sort, for love was the theme +which occupied us--love after a fashion: Lysias has been writing about +a fair youth who was being tempted, but not by a lover; and this was +the point: he ingeniously proved that the non-lover should be accepted +rather than the lover. + +SOCRATES: O that is noble of him! I wish that he would say the poor man +rather than the rich, and the old man rather than the young one;--then +he would meet the case of me and of many a man; his words would be quite +refreshing, and he would be a public benefactor. For my part, I do so +long to hear his speech, that if you walk all the way to Megara, and +when you have reached the wall come back, as Herodicus recommends, +without going in, I will keep you company. + +PHAEDRUS: What do you mean, my good Socrates? How can you imagine that +my unpractised memory can do justice to an elaborate work, which the +greatest rhetorician of the age spent a long time in composing. Indeed, +I cannot; I would give a great deal if I could. + +SOCRATES: I believe that I know Phaedrus about as well as I know myself, +and I am very sure that the speech of Lysias was repeated to him, not +once only, but again and again;--he insisted on hearing it many times +over and Lysias was very willing to gratify him; at last, when nothing +else would do, he got hold of the book, and looked at what he most +wanted to see,--this occupied him during the whole morning;--and then +when he was tired with sitting, he went out to take a walk, not until, +by the dog, as I believe, he had simply learned by heart the entire +discourse, unless it was unusually long, and he went to a place outside +the wall that he might practise his lesson. There he saw a certain +lover of discourse who had a similar weakness;--he saw and rejoiced; now +thought he, 'I shall have a partner in my revels.' And he invited him to +come and walk with him. But when the lover of discourse begged that he +would repeat the tale, he gave himself airs and said, 'No I cannot,' +as if he were indisposed; although, if the hearer had refused, he would +sooner or later have been compelled by him to listen whether he would or +no. Therefore, Phaedrus, bid him do at once what he will soon do whether +bidden or not. + +PHAEDRUS: I see that you will not let me off until I speak in some +fashion or other; verily therefore my best plan is to speak as I best +can. + +SOCRATES: A very true remark, that of yours. + +PHAEDRUS: I will do as I say; but believe me, Socrates, I did not learn +the very words--O no; nevertheless I have a general notion of what +he said, and will give you a summary of the points in which the lover +differed from the non-lover. Let me begin at the beginning. + +SOCRATES: Yes, my sweet one; but you must first of all show what you +have in your left hand under your cloak, for that roll, as I suspect, +is the actual discourse. Now, much as I love you, I would not have you +suppose that I am going to have your memory exercised at my expense, if +you have Lysias himself here. + +PHAEDRUS: Enough; I see that I have no hope of practising my art upon +you. But if I am to read, where would you please to sit? + +SOCRATES: Let us turn aside and go by the Ilissus; we will sit down at +some quiet spot. + +PHAEDRUS: I am fortunate in not having my sandals, and as you never have +any, I think that we may go along the brook and cool our feet in the +water; this will be the easiest way, and at midday and in the summer is +far from being unpleasant. + +SOCRATES: Lead on, and look out for a place in which we can sit down. + +PHAEDRUS: Do you see the tallest plane-tree in the distance? + +SOCRATES: Yes. + +PHAEDRUS: There are shade and gentle breezes, and grass on which we may +either sit or lie down. + +SOCRATES: Move forward. + +PHAEDRUS: I should like to know, Socrates, whether the place is not +somewhere here at which Boreas is said to have carried off Orithyia from +the banks of the Ilissus? + +SOCRATES: Such is the tradition. + +PHAEDRUS: And is this the exact spot? The little stream is delightfully +clear and bright; I can fancy that there might be maidens playing near. + +SOCRATES: I believe that the spot is not exactly here, but about a +quarter of a mile lower down, where you cross to the temple of Artemis, +and there is, I think, some sort of an altar of Boreas at the place. + +PHAEDRUS: I have never noticed it; but I beseech you to tell me, +Socrates, do you believe this tale? + +SOCRATES: The wise are doubtful, and I should not be singular if, like +them, I too doubted. I might have a rational explanation that Orithyia +was playing with Pharmacia, when a northern gust carried her over the +neighbouring rocks; and this being the manner of her death, she was said +to have been carried away by Boreas. There is a discrepancy, however, +about the locality; according to another version of the story she was +taken from Areopagus, and not from this place. Now I quite acknowledge +that these allegories are very nice, but he is not to be envied who has +to invent them; much labour and ingenuity will be required of him; and +when he has once begun, he must go on and rehabilitate Hippocentaurs and +chimeras dire. Gorgons and winged steeds flow in apace, and numberless +other inconceivable and portentous natures. And if he is sceptical +about them, and would fain reduce them one after another to the rules of +probability, this sort of crude philosophy will take up a great deal of +time. Now I have no leisure for such enquiries; shall I tell you why? I +must first know myself, as the Delphian inscription says; to be curious +about that which is not my concern, while I am still in ignorance of my +own self, would be ridiculous. And therefore I bid farewell to all this; +the common opinion is enough for me. For, as I was saying, I want to +know not about this, but about myself: am I a monster more complicated +and swollen with passion than the serpent Typho, or a creature of a +gentler and simpler sort, to whom Nature has given a diviner and lowlier +destiny? But let me ask you, friend: have we not reached the plane-tree +to which you were conducting us? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, this is the tree. + +SOCRATES: By Here, a fair resting-place, full of summer sounds and +scents. Here is this lofty and spreading plane-tree, and the agnus +castus high and clustering, in the fullest blossom and the greatest +fragrance; and the stream which flows beneath the plane-tree is +deliciously cold to the feet. Judging from the ornaments and images, +this must be a spot sacred to Achelous and the Nymphs. How delightful is +the breeze:--so very sweet; and there is a sound in the air shrill and +summerlike which makes answer to the chorus of the cicadae. But the +greatest charm of all is the grass, like a pillow gently sloping to the +head. My dear Phaedrus, you have been an admirable guide. + +PHAEDRUS: What an incomprehensible being you are, Socrates: when you are +in the country, as you say, you really are like some stranger who is led +about by a guide. Do you ever cross the border? I rather think that you +never venture even outside the gates. + +SOCRATES: Very true, my good friend; and I hope that you will excuse me +when you hear the reason, which is, that I am a lover of knowledge, and +the men who dwell in the city are my teachers, and not the trees or the +country. Though I do indeed believe that you have found a spell with +which to draw me out of the city into the country, like a hungry cow +before whom a bough or a bunch of fruit is waved. For only hold up +before me in like manner a book, and you may lead me all round Attica, +and over the wide world. And now having arrived, I intend to lie down, +and do you choose any posture in which you can read best. Begin. + +PHAEDRUS: Listen. You know how matters stand with me; and how, as I +conceive, this affair may be arranged for the advantage of both of us. +And I maintain that I ought not to fail in my suit, because I am not +your lover: for lovers repent of the kindnesses which they have shown +when their passion ceases, but to the non-lovers who are free and not +under any compulsion, no time of repentance ever comes; for they confer +their benefits according to the measure of their ability, in the way +which is most conducive to their own interest. Then again, lovers +consider how by reason of their love they have neglected their own +concerns and rendered service to others: and when to these benefits +conferred they add on the troubles which they have endured, they think +that they have long ago made to the beloved a very ample return. But the +non-lover has no such tormenting recollections; he has never neglected +his affairs or quarrelled with his relations; he has no troubles to +add up or excuses to invent; and being well rid of all these evils, why +should he not freely do what will gratify the beloved? If you say that +the lover is more to be esteemed, because his love is thought to be +greater; for he is willing to say and do what is hateful to other men, +in order to please his beloved;--that, if true, is only a proof that he +will prefer any future love to his present, and will injure his old +love at the pleasure of the new. And how, in a matter of such infinite +importance, can a man be right in trusting himself to one who is +afflicted with a malady which no experienced person would attempt to +cure, for the patient himself admits that he is not in his right mind, +and acknowledges that he is wrong in his mind, but says that he is +unable to control himself? And if he came to his right mind, would he +ever imagine that the desires were good which he conceived when in his +wrong mind? Once more, there are many more non-lovers than lovers; and +if you choose the best of the lovers, you will not have many to choose +from; but if from the non-lovers, the choice will be larger, and you +will be far more likely to find among them a person who is worthy of +your friendship. If public opinion be your dread, and you would avoid +reproach, in all probability the lover, who is always thinking that +other men are as emulous of him as he is of them, will boast to some +one of his successes, and make a show of them openly in the pride of his +heart;--he wants others to know that his labour has not been lost; but +the non-lover is more his own master, and is desirous of solid good, and +not of the opinion of mankind. Again, the lover may be generally noted +or seen following the beloved (this is his regular occupation), and +whenever they are observed to exchange two words they are supposed to +meet about some affair of love either past or in contemplation; but when +non-lovers meet, no one asks the reason why, because people know that +talking to another is natural, whether friendship or mere pleasure +be the motive. Once more, if you fear the fickleness of friendship, +consider that in any other case a quarrel might be a mutual calamity; +but now, when you have given up what is most precious to you, you will +be the greater loser, and therefore, you will have more reason in +being afraid of the lover, for his vexations are many, and he is always +fancying that every one is leagued against him. Wherefore also he +debars his beloved from society; he will not have you intimate with +the wealthy, lest they should exceed him in wealth, or with men of +education, lest they should be his superiors in understanding; and he is +equally afraid of anybody's influence who has any other advantage over +himself. If he can persuade you to break with them, you are left without +a friend in the world; or if, out of a regard to your own interest, you +have more sense than to comply with his desire, you will have to quarrel +with him. But those who are non-lovers, and whose success in love is the +reward of their merit, will not be jealous of the companions of their +beloved, and will rather hate those who refuse to be his associates, +thinking that their favourite is slighted by the latter and benefited by +the former; for more love than hatred may be expected to come to him out +of his friendship with others. Many lovers too have loved the person of +a youth before they knew his character or his belongings; so that when +their passion has passed away, there is no knowing whether they will +continue to be his friends; whereas, in the case of non-lovers who were +always friends, the friendship is not lessened by the favours granted; +but the recollection of these remains with them, and is an earnest of +good things to come. + +Further, I say that you are likely to be improved by me, whereas the +lover will spoil you. For they praise your words and actions in a wrong +way; partly, because they are afraid of offending you, and also, their +judgment is weakened by passion. Such are the feats which love exhibits; +he makes things painful to the disappointed which give no pain to +others; he compels the successful lover to praise what ought not to +give him pleasure, and therefore the beloved is to be pitied rather +than envied. But if you listen to me, in the first place, I, in my +intercourse with you, shall not merely regard present enjoyment, but +also future advantage, being not mastered by love, but my own master; +nor for small causes taking violent dislikes, but even when the cause +is great, slowly laying up little wrath--unintentional offences I shall +forgive, and intentional ones I shall try to prevent; and these are the +marks of a friendship which will last. + +Do you think that a lover only can be a firm friend? reflect:--if this +were true, we should set small value on sons, or fathers, or mothers; +nor should we ever have loyal friends, for our love of them arises +not from passion, but from other associations. Further, if we ought +to shower favours on those who are the most eager suitors,--on that +principle, we ought always to do good, not to the most virtuous, but to +the most needy; for they are the persons who will be most relieved, +and will therefore be the most grateful; and when you make a feast you +should invite not your friend, but the beggar and the empty soul; for +they will love you, and attend you, and come about your doors, and +will be the best pleased, and the most grateful, and will invoke many a +blessing on your head. Yet surely you ought not to be granting favours +to those who besiege you with prayer, but to those who are best able to +reward you; nor to the lover only, but to those who are worthy of love; +nor to those who will enjoy the bloom of your youth, but to those who +will share their possessions with you in age; nor to those who, having +succeeded, will glory in their success to others, but to those who +will be modest and tell no tales; nor to those who care about you for a +moment only, but to those who will continue your friends through life; +nor to those who, when their passion is over, will pick a quarrel with +you, but rather to those who, when the charm of youth has left you, will +show their own virtue. Remember what I have said; and consider yet this +further point: friends admonish the lover under the idea that his way of +life is bad, but no one of his kindred ever yet censured the non-lover, +or thought that he was ill-advised about his own interests. + +'Perhaps you will ask me whether I propose that you should indulge every +non-lover. To which I reply that not even the lover would advise you to +indulge all lovers, for the indiscriminate favour is less esteemed by +the rational recipient, and less easily hidden by him who would escape +the censure of the world. Now love ought to be for the advantage of both +parties, and for the injury of neither. + +'I believe that I have said enough; but if there is anything more which +you desire or which in your opinion needs to be supplied, ask and I will +answer.' + +Now, Socrates, what do you think? Is not the discourse excellent, more +especially in the matter of the language? + +SOCRATES: Yes, quite admirable; the effect on me was ravishing. And this +I owe to you, Phaedrus, for I observed you while reading to be in an +ecstasy, and thinking that you are more experienced in these matters +than I am, I followed your example, and, like you, my divine darling, I +became inspired with a phrenzy. + +PHAEDRUS: Indeed, you are pleased to be merry. + +SOCRATES: Do you mean that I am not in earnest? + +PHAEDRUS: Now don't talk in that way, Socrates, but let me have your +real opinion; I adjure you, by Zeus, the god of friendship, to tell me +whether you think that any Hellene could have said more or spoken better +on the same subject. + +SOCRATES: Well, but are you and I expected to praise the sentiments +of the author, or only the clearness, and roundness, and finish, and +tournure of the language? As to the first I willingly submit to your +better judgment, for I am not worthy to form an opinion, having only +attended to the rhetorical manner; and I was doubting whether this could +have been defended even by Lysias himself; I thought, though I speak +under correction, that he repeated himself two or three times, either +from want of words or from want of pains; and also, he appeared to me +ostentatiously to exult in showing how well he could say the same thing +in two or three ways. + +PHAEDRUS: Nonsense, Socrates; what you call repetition was the especial +merit of the speech; for he omitted no topic of which the subject +rightly allowed, and I do not think that any one could have spoken +better or more exhaustively. + +SOCRATES: There I cannot go along with you. Ancient sages, men and +women, who have spoken and written of these things, would rise up in +judgment against me, if out of complaisance I assented to you. + +PHAEDRUS: Who are they, and where did you hear anything better than +this? + +SOCRATES: I am sure that I must have heard; but at this moment I do not +remember from whom; perhaps from Sappho the fair, or Anacreon the wise; +or, possibly, from a prose writer. Why do I say so? Why, because I +perceive that my bosom is full, and that I could make another speech as +good as that of Lysias, and different. Now I am certain that this is +not an invention of my own, who am well aware that I know nothing, and +therefore I can only infer that I have been filled through the ears, +like a pitcher, from the waters of another, though I have actually +forgotten in my stupidity who was my informant. + +PHAEDRUS: That is grand:--but never mind where you heard the discourse +or from whom; let that be a mystery not to be divulged even at my +earnest desire. Only, as you say, promise to make another and better +oration, equal in length and entirely new, on the same subject; and I, +like the nine Archons, will promise to set up a golden image at Delphi, +not only of myself, but of you, and as large as life. + +SOCRATES: You are a dear golden ass if you suppose me to mean that +Lysias has altogether missed the mark, and that I can make a speech from +which all his arguments are to be excluded. The worst of authors will +say something which is to the point. Who, for example, could speak on +this thesis of yours without praising the discretion of the non-lover +and blaming the indiscretion of the lover? These are the commonplaces of +the subject which must come in (for what else is there to be said?) and +must be allowed and excused; the only merit is in the arrangement of +them, for there can be none in the invention; but when you leave the +commonplaces, then there may be some originality. + +PHAEDRUS: I admit that there is reason in what you say, and I too will +be reasonable, and will allow you to start with the premiss that the +lover is more disordered in his wits than the non-lover; if in what +remains you make a longer and better speech than Lysias, and use other +arguments, then I say again, that a statue you shall have of beaten +gold, and take your place by the colossal offerings of the Cypselids at +Olympia. + +SOCRATES: How profoundly in earnest is the lover, because to tease him I +lay a finger upon his love! And so, Phaedrus, you really imagine that I +am going to improve upon the ingenuity of Lysias? + +PHAEDRUS: There I have you as you had me, and you must just speak 'as +you best can.' Do not let us exchange 'tu quoque' as in a farce, or +compel me to say to you as you said to me, 'I know Socrates as well as +I know myself, and he was wanting to speak, but he gave himself airs.' +Rather I would have you consider that from this place we stir not until +you have unbosomed yourself of the speech; for here are we all alone, +and I am stronger, remember, and younger than you:--Wherefore perpend, +and do not compel me to use violence. + +SOCRATES: But, my sweet Phaedrus, how ridiculous it would be of me to +compete with Lysias in an extempore speech! He is a master in his art +and I am an untaught man. + +PHAEDRUS: You see how matters stand; and therefore let there be no more +pretences; for, indeed, I know the word that is irresistible. + +SOCRATES: Then don't say it. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, but I will; and my word shall be an oath. 'I say, or +rather swear'--but what god will be witness of my oath?--'By this +plane-tree I swear, that unless you repeat the discourse here in the +face of this very plane-tree, I will never tell you another; never let +you have word of another!' + +SOCRATES: Villain! I am conquered; the poor lover of discourse has no +more to say. + +PHAEDRUS: Then why are you still at your tricks? + +SOCRATES: I am not going to play tricks now that you have taken the +oath, for I cannot allow myself to be starved. + +PHAEDRUS: Proceed. + +SOCRATES: Shall I tell you what I will do? + +PHAEDRUS: What? + +SOCRATES: I will veil my face and gallop through the discourse as fast +as I can, for if I see you I shall feel ashamed and not know what to +say. + +PHAEDRUS: Only go on and you may do anything else which you please. + +SOCRATES: Come, O ye Muses, melodious, as ye are called, whether you +have received this name from the character of your strains, or because +the Melians are a musical race, help, O help me in the tale which my +good friend here desires me to rehearse, in order that his friend whom +he always deemed wise may seem to him to be wiser than ever. + +Once upon a time there was a fair boy, or, more properly speaking, a +youth; he was very fair and had a great many lovers; and there was one +special cunning one, who had persuaded the youth that he did not love +him, but he really loved him all the same; and one day when he was +paying his addresses to him, he used this very argument--that he +ought to accept the non-lover rather than the lover; his words were as +follows:-- + +'All good counsel begins in the same way; a man should know what he +is advising about, or his counsel will all come to nought. But people +imagine that they know about the nature of things, when they don't know +about them, and, not having come to an understanding at first +because they think that they know, they end, as might be expected, in +contradicting one another and themselves. Now you and I must not be +guilty of this fundamental error which we condemn in others; but as our +question is whether the lover or non-lover is to be preferred, let us +first of all agree in defining the nature and power of love, and then, +keeping our eyes upon the definition and to this appealing, let us +further enquire whether love brings advantage or disadvantage. + +'Every one sees that love is a desire, and we know also that non-lovers +desire the beautiful and good. Now in what way is the lover to be +distinguished from the non-lover? Let us note that in every one of us +there are two guiding and ruling principles which lead us whither they +will; one is the natural desire of pleasure, the other is an acquired +opinion which aspires after the best; and these two are sometimes in +harmony and then again at war, and sometimes the one, sometimes the +other conquers. When opinion by the help of reason leads us to the best, +the conquering principle is called temperance; but when desire, which +is devoid of reason, rules in us and drags us to pleasure, that power of +misrule is called excess. Now excess has many names, and many members, +and many forms, and any of these forms when very marked gives a name, +neither honourable nor creditable, to the bearer of the name. The desire +of eating, for example, which gets the better of the higher reason and +the other desires, is called gluttony, and he who is possessed by it +is called a glutton; the tyrannical desire of drink, which inclines the +possessor of the desire to drink, has a name which is only too obvious, +and there can be as little doubt by what name any other appetite of the +same family would be called;--it will be the name of that which happens +to be dominant. And now I think that you will perceive the drift of +my discourse; but as every spoken word is in a manner plainer than the +unspoken, I had better say further that the irrational desire which +overcomes the tendency of opinion towards right, and is led away to the +enjoyment of beauty, and especially of personal beauty, by the desires +which are her own kindred--that supreme desire, I say, which by leading +conquers and by the force of passion is reinforced, from this very +force, receiving a name, is called love (erromenos eros).' + +And now, dear Phaedrus, I shall pause for an instant to ask whether you +do not think me, as I appear to myself, inspired? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, Socrates, you seem to have a very unusual flow of words. + +SOCRATES: Listen to me, then, in silence; for surely the place is holy; +so that you must not wonder, if, as I proceed, I appear to be in a +divine fury, for already I am getting into dithyrambics. + +PHAEDRUS: Nothing can be truer. + +SOCRATES: The responsibility rests with you. But hear what follows, and +perhaps the fit may be averted; all is in their hands above. I will go +on talking to my youth. Listen:-- + +Thus, my friend, we have declared and defined the nature of the subject. +Keeping the definition in view, let us now enquire what advantage or +disadvantage is likely to ensue from the lover or the non-lover to him +who accepts their advances. + +He who is the victim of his passions and the slave of pleasure will of +course desire to make his beloved as agreeable to himself as possible. +Now to him who has a mind diseased anything is agreeable which is not +opposed to him, but that which is equal or superior is hateful to him, +and therefore the lover will not brook any superiority or equality +on the part of his beloved; he is always employed in reducing him to +inferiority. And the ignorant is the inferior of the wise, the coward +of the brave, the slow of speech of the speaker, the dull of the +clever. These, and not these only, are the mental defects of the +beloved;--defects which, when implanted by nature, are necessarily +a delight to the lover, and when not implanted, he must contrive to +implant them in him, if he would not be deprived of his fleeting joy. +And therefore he cannot help being jealous, and will debar his beloved +from the advantages of society which would make a man of him, and +especially from that society which would have given him wisdom, and +thereby he cannot fail to do him great harm. That is to say, in his +excessive fear lest he should come to be despised in his eyes he will be +compelled to banish from him divine philosophy; and there is no greater +injury which he can inflict upon him than this. He will contrive that +his beloved shall be wholly ignorant, and in everything shall look +to him; he is to be the delight of the lover's heart, and a curse to +himself. Verily, a lover is a profitable guardian and associate for him +in all that relates to his mind. + +Let us next see how his master, whose law of life is pleasure and not +good, will keep and train the body of his servant. Will he not choose a +beloved who is delicate rather than sturdy and strong? One brought up +in shady bowers and not in the bright sun, a stranger to manly exercises +and the sweat of toil, accustomed only to a soft and luxurious diet, +instead of the hues of health having the colours of paint and ornament, +and the rest of a piece?--such a life as any one can imagine and which I +need not detail at length. But I may sum up all that I have to say in a +word, and pass on. Such a person in war, or in any of the great crises +of life, will be the anxiety of his friends and also of his lover, and +certainly not the terror of his enemies; which nobody can deny. + +And now let us tell what advantage or disadvantage the beloved will +receive from the guardianship and society of his lover in the matter of +his property; this is the next point to be considered. The lover will be +the first to see what, indeed, will be sufficiently evident to all men, +that he desires above all things to deprive his beloved of his dearest +and best and holiest possessions, father, mother, kindred, friends, of +all whom he thinks may be hinderers or reprovers of their most sweet +converse; he will even cast a jealous eye upon his gold and silver or +other property, because these make him a less easy prey, and when caught +less manageable; hence he is of necessity displeased at his possession +of them and rejoices at their loss; and he would like him to be +wifeless, childless, homeless, as well; and the longer the better, for +the longer he is all this, the longer he will enjoy him. + +There are some sort of animals, such as flatterers, who are dangerous +and mischievous enough, and yet nature has mingled a temporary pleasure +and grace in their composition. You may say that a courtesan is hurtful, +and disapprove of such creatures and their practices, and yet for the +time they are very pleasant. But the lover is not only hurtful to his +love; he is also an extremely disagreeable companion. The old proverb +says that 'birds of a feather flock together'; I suppose that equality +of years inclines them to the same pleasures, and similarity begets +friendship; yet you may have more than enough even of this; and verily +constraint is always said to be grievous. Now the lover is not only +unlike his beloved, but he forces himself upon him. For he is old and +his love is young, and neither day nor night will he leave him if he +can help; necessity and the sting of desire drive him on, and allure +him with the pleasure which he receives from seeing, hearing, touching, +perceiving him in every way. And therefore he is delighted to fasten +upon him and to minister to him. But what pleasure or consolation can +the beloved be receiving all this time? Must he not feel the extremity +of disgust when he looks at an old shrivelled face and the remainder to +match, which even in a description is disagreeable, and quite detestable +when he is forced into daily contact with his lover; moreover he is +jealously watched and guarded against everything and everybody, and +has to hear misplaced and exaggerated praises of himself, and censures +equally inappropriate, which are intolerable when the man is sober, and, +besides being intolerable, are published all over the world in all their +indelicacy and wearisomeness when he is drunk. + +And not only while his love continues is he mischievous and unpleasant, +but when his love ceases he becomes a perfidious enemy of him on whom +he showered his oaths and prayers and promises, and yet could hardly +prevail upon him to tolerate the tedium of his company even from motives +of interest. The hour of payment arrives, and now he is the servant of +another master; instead of love and infatuation, wisdom and temperance +are his bosom's lords; but the beloved has not discovered the change +which has taken place in him, when he asks for a return and recalls to +his recollection former sayings and doings; he believes himself to be +speaking to the same person, and the other, not having the courage to +confess the truth, and not knowing how to fulfil the oaths and promises +which he made when under the dominion of folly, and having now grown +wise and temperate, does not want to do as he did or to be as he was +before. And so he runs away and is constrained to be a defaulter; the +oyster-shell (In allusion to a game in which two parties fled or pursued +according as an oyster-shell which was thrown into the air fell with +the dark or light side uppermost.) has fallen with the other side +uppermost--he changes pursuit into flight, while the other is compelled +to follow him with passion and imprecation, not knowing that he ought +never from the first to have accepted a demented lover instead of a +sensible non-lover; and that in making such a choice he was giving +himself up to a faithless, morose, envious, disagreeable being, hurtful +to his estate, hurtful to his bodily health, and still more hurtful to +the cultivation of his mind, than which there neither is nor ever will +be anything more honoured in the eyes both of gods and men. Consider +this, fair youth, and know that in the friendship of the lover there is +no real kindness; he has an appetite and wants to feed upon you: + +'As wolves love lambs so lovers love their loves.' + +But I told you so, I am speaking in verse, and therefore I had better +make an end; enough. + +PHAEDRUS: I thought that you were only half-way and were going to make a +similar speech about all the advantages of accepting the non-lover. Why +do you not proceed? + +SOCRATES: Does not your simplicity observe that I have got out of +dithyrambics into heroics, when only uttering a censure on the lover? +And if I am to add the praises of the non-lover what will become of me? +Do you not perceive that I am already overtaken by the Nymphs to whom +you have mischievously exposed me? And therefore I will only add that +the non-lover has all the advantages in which the lover is accused of +being deficient. And now I will say no more; there has been enough of +both of them. Leaving the tale to its fate, I will cross the river and +make the best of my way home, lest a worse thing be inflicted upon me by +you. + +PHAEDRUS: Not yet, Socrates; not until the heat of the day has passed; +do you not see that the hour is almost noon? there is the midday sun +standing still, as people say, in the meridian. Let us rather stay and +talk over what has been said, and then return in the cool. + +SOCRATES: Your love of discourse, Phaedrus, is superhuman, simply +marvellous, and I do not believe that there is any one of your +contemporaries who has either made or in one way or another has +compelled others to make an equal number of speeches. I would except +Simmias the Theban, but all the rest are far behind you. And now I do +verily believe that you have been the cause of another. + +PHAEDRUS: That is good news. But what do you mean? + +SOCRATES: I mean to say that as I was about to cross the stream the +usual sign was given to me,--that sign which always forbids, but never +bids, me to do anything which I am going to do; and I thought that I +heard a voice saying in my ear that I had been guilty of impiety, +and that I must not go away until I had made an atonement. Now I am a +diviner, though not a very good one, but I have enough religion for my +own use, as you might say of a bad writer--his writing is good enough +for him; and I am beginning to see that I was in error. O my friend, how +prophetic is the human soul! At the time I had a sort of misgiving, and, +like Ibycus, 'I was troubled; I feared that I might be buying honour +from men at the price of sinning against the gods.' Now I recognize my +error. + +PHAEDRUS: What error? + +SOCRATES: That was a dreadful speech which you brought with you, and you +made me utter one as bad. + +PHAEDRUS: How so? + +SOCRATES: It was foolish, I say,--to a certain extent, impious; can +anything be more dreadful? + +PHAEDRUS: Nothing, if the speech was really such as you describe. + +SOCRATES: Well, and is not Eros the son of Aphrodite, and a god? + +PHAEDRUS: So men say. + +SOCRATES: But that was not acknowledged by Lysias in his speech, nor by +you in that other speech which you by a charm drew from my lips. For if +love be, as he surely is, a divinity, he cannot be evil. Yet this was +the error of both the speeches. There was also a simplicity about them +which was refreshing; having no truth or honesty in them, nevertheless +they pretended to be something, hoping to succeed in deceiving the +manikins of earth and gain celebrity among them. Wherefore I must have +a purgation. And I bethink me of an ancient purgation of mythological +error which was devised, not by Homer, for he never had the wit to +discover why he was blind, but by Stesichorus, who was a philosopher and +knew the reason why; and therefore, when he lost his eyes, for that was +the penalty which was inflicted upon him for reviling the lovely Helen, +he at once purged himself. And the purgation was a recantation, which +began thus,-- + + 'False is that word of mine--the truth is that thou didst not embark in + ships, nor ever go to the walls of Troy;' + +and when he had completed his poem, which is called 'the recantation,' +immediately his sight returned to him. Now I will be wiser than either +Stesichorus or Homer, in that I am going to make my recantation for +reviling love before I suffer; and this I will attempt, not as before, +veiled and ashamed, but with forehead bold and bare. + +PHAEDRUS: Nothing could be more agreeable to me than to hear you say so. + +SOCRATES: Only think, my good Phaedrus, what an utter want of delicacy +was shown in the two discourses; I mean, in my own and in that which you +recited out of the book. Would not any one who was himself of a noble +and gentle nature, and who loved or ever had loved a nature like his +own, when we tell of the petty causes of lovers' jealousies, and of +their exceeding animosities, and of the injuries which they do to their +beloved, have imagined that our ideas of love were taken from some haunt +of sailors to which good manners were unknown--he would certainly never +have admitted the justice of our censure? + +PHAEDRUS: I dare say not, Socrates. + +SOCRATES: Therefore, because I blush at the thought of this person, and +also because I am afraid of Love himself, I desire to wash the brine out +of my ears with water from the spring; and I would counsel Lysias not to +delay, but to write another discourse, which shall prove that 'ceteris +paribus' the lover ought to be accepted rather than the non-lover. + +PHAEDRUS: Be assured that he shall. You shall speak the praises of the +lover, and Lysias shall be compelled by me to write another discourse on +the same theme. + +SOCRATES: You will be true to your nature in that, and therefore I +believe you. + +PHAEDRUS: Speak, and fear not. + +SOCRATES: But where is the fair youth whom I was addressing before, and +who ought to listen now; lest, if he hear me not, he should accept a +non-lover before he knows what he is doing? + +PHAEDRUS: He is close at hand, and always at your service. + +SOCRATES: Know then, fair youth, that the former discourse was the word +of Phaedrus, the son of Vain Man, who dwells in the city of Myrrhina +(Myrrhinusius). And this which I am about to utter is the recantation of +Stesichorus the son of Godly Man (Euphemus), who comes from the town of +Desire (Himera), and is to the following effect: 'I told a lie when I +said' that the beloved ought to accept the non-lover when he might have +the lover, because the one is sane, and the other mad. It might be so +if madness were simply an evil; but there is also a madness which is a +divine gift, and the source of the chiefest blessings granted to +men. For prophecy is a madness, and the prophetess at Delphi and the +priestesses at Dodona when out of their senses have conferred great +benefits on Hellas, both in public and private life, but when in their +senses few or none. And I might also tell you how the Sibyl and other +inspired persons have given to many an one many an intimation of the +future which has saved them from falling. But it would be tedious to +speak of what every one knows. + +There will be more reason in appealing to the ancient inventors of names +(compare Cratylus), who would never have connected prophecy (mantike) +which foretells the future and is the noblest of arts, with madness +(manike), or called them both by the same name, if they had deemed +madness to be a disgrace or dishonour;--they must have thought that +there was an inspired madness which was a noble thing; for the two +words, mantike and manike, are really the same, and the letter tau is +only a modern and tasteless insertion. And this is confirmed by the +name which was given by them to the rational investigation of futurity, +whether made by the help of birds or of other signs--this, for as much +as it is an art which supplies from the reasoning faculty mind (nous) +and information (istoria) to human thought (oiesis) they originally +termed oionoistike, but the word has been lately altered and made +sonorous by the modern introduction of the letter Omega (oionoistike and +oionistike), and in proportion as prophecy (mantike) is more perfect and +august than augury, both in name and fact, in the same proportion, as +the ancients testify, is madness superior to a sane mind (sophrosune) +for the one is only of human, but the other of divine origin. Again, +where plagues and mightiest woes have bred in certain families, owing +to some ancient blood-guiltiness, there madness has entered with holy +prayers and rites, and by inspired utterances found a way of deliverance +for those who are in need; and he who has part in this gift, and is +truly possessed and duly out of his mind, is by the use of purifications +and mysteries made whole and exempt from evil, future as well as +present, and has a release from the calamity which was afflicting him. +The third kind is the madness of those who are possessed by the Muses; +which taking hold of a delicate and virgin soul, and there inspiring +frenzy, awakens lyrical and all other numbers; with these adorning the +myriad actions of ancient heroes for the instruction of posterity. But +he who, having no touch of the Muses' madness in his soul, comes to the +door and thinks that he will get into the temple by the help of art--he, +I say, and his poetry are not admitted; the sane man disappears and is +nowhere when he enters into rivalry with the madman. + +I might tell of many other noble deeds which have sprung from inspired +madness. And therefore, let no one frighten or flutter us by saying that +the temperate friend is to be chosen rather than the inspired, but let +him further show that love is not sent by the gods for any good to lover +or beloved; if he can do so we will allow him to carry off the palm. And +we, on our part, will prove in answer to him that the madness of love is +the greatest of heaven's blessings, and the proof shall be one which the +wise will receive, and the witling disbelieve. But first of all, let us +view the affections and actions of the soul divine and human, and try +to ascertain the truth about them. The beginning of our proof is as +follows:-- + +(Translated by Cic. Tus. Quaest.) The soul through all her being is +immortal, for that which is ever in motion is immortal; but that which +moves another and is moved by another, in ceasing to move ceases also to +live. Only the self-moving, never leaving self, never ceases to move, +and is the fountain and beginning of motion to all that moves besides. +Now, the beginning is unbegotten, for that which is begotten has a +beginning; but the beginning is begotten of nothing, for if it were +begotten of something, then the begotten would not come from a +beginning. But if unbegotten, it must also be indestructible; for if +beginning were destroyed, there could be no beginning out of anything, +nor anything out of a beginning; and all things must have a beginning. +And therefore the self-moving is the beginning of motion; and this can +neither be destroyed nor begotten, else the whole heavens and all +creation would collapse and stand still, and never again have motion or +birth. But if the self-moving is proved to be immortal, he who affirms +that self-motion is the very idea and essence of the soul will not be +put to confusion. For the body which is moved from without is soulless; +but that which is moved from within has a soul, for such is the nature +of the soul. But if this be true, must not the soul be the self-moving, +and therefore of necessity unbegotten and immortal? Enough of the soul's +immortality. + +Of the nature of the soul, though her true form be ever a theme of large +and more than mortal discourse, let me speak briefly, and in a +figure. And let the figure be composite--a pair of winged horses and a +charioteer. Now the winged horses and the charioteers of the gods are +all of them noble and of noble descent, but those of other races are +mixed; the human charioteer drives his in a pair; and one of them is +noble and of noble breed, and the other is ignoble and of ignoble breed; +and the driving of them of necessity gives a great deal of trouble to +him. I will endeavour to explain to you in what way the mortal differs +from the immortal creature. The soul in her totality has the care of +inanimate being everywhere, and traverses the whole heaven in divers +forms appearing--when perfect and fully winged she soars upward, and +orders the whole world; whereas the imperfect soul, losing her wings +and drooping in her flight at last settles on the solid ground--there, +finding a home, she receives an earthly frame which appears to be +self-moved, but is really moved by her power; and this composition of +soul and body is called a living and mortal creature. For immortal no +such union can be reasonably believed to be; although fancy, not +having seen nor surely known the nature of God, may imagine an immortal +creature having both a body and also a soul which are united throughout +all time. Let that, however, be as God wills, and be spoken of +acceptably to him. And now let us ask the reason why the soul loses her +wings! + +The wing is the corporeal element which is most akin to the divine, +and which by nature tends to soar aloft and carry that which gravitates +downwards into the upper region, which is the habitation of the gods. +The divine is beauty, wisdom, goodness, and the like; and by these the +wing of the soul is nourished, and grows apace; but when fed upon evil +and foulness and the opposite of good, wastes and falls away. Zeus, the +mighty lord, holding the reins of a winged chariot, leads the way in +heaven, ordering all and taking care of all; and there follows him the +array of gods and demi-gods, marshalled in eleven bands; Hestia alone +abides at home in the house of heaven; of the rest they who are reckoned +among the princely twelve march in their appointed order. They see many +blessed sights in the inner heaven, and there are many ways to and fro, +along which the blessed gods are passing, every one doing his own +work; he may follow who will and can, for jealousy has no place in the +celestial choir. But when they go to banquet and festival, then they +move up the steep to the top of the vault of heaven. The chariots of +the gods in even poise, obeying the rein, glide rapidly; but the others +labour, for the vicious steed goes heavily, weighing down the charioteer +to the earth when his steed has not been thoroughly trained:--and +this is the hour of agony and extremest conflict for the soul. For the +immortals, when they are at the end of their course, go forth and stand +upon the outside of heaven, and the revolution of the spheres carries +them round, and they behold the things beyond. But of the heaven which +is above the heavens, what earthly poet ever did or ever will sing +worthily? It is such as I will describe; for I must dare to speak the +truth, when truth is my theme. There abides the very being with which +true knowledge is concerned; the colourless, formless, intangible +essence, visible only to mind, the pilot of the soul. The divine +intelligence, being nurtured upon mind and pure knowledge, and the +intelligence of every soul which is capable of receiving the food proper +to it, rejoices at beholding reality, and once more gazing upon truth, +is replenished and made glad, until the revolution of the worlds +brings her round again to the same place. In the revolution she beholds +justice, and temperance, and knowledge absolute, not in the form of +generation or of relation, which men call existence, but knowledge +absolute in existence absolute; and beholding the other true existences +in like manner, and feasting upon them, she passes down into the +interior of the heavens and returns home; and there the charioteer +putting up his horses at the stall, gives them ambrosia to eat and +nectar to drink. + +Such is the life of the gods; but of other souls, that which follows +God best and is likest to him lifts the head of the charioteer into the +outer world, and is carried round in the revolution, troubled indeed by +the steeds, and with difficulty beholding true being; while another +only rises and falls, and sees, and again fails to see by reason of the +unruliness of the steeds. The rest of the souls are also longing after +the upper world and they all follow, but not being strong enough they +are carried round below the surface, plunging, treading on one another, +each striving to be first; and there is confusion and perspiration and +the extremity of effort; and many of them are lamed or have their wings +broken through the ill-driving of the charioteers; and all of them after +a fruitless toil, not having attained to the mysteries of true being, +go away, and feed upon opinion. The reason why the souls exhibit this +exceeding eagerness to behold the plain of truth is that pasturage is +found there, which is suited to the highest part of the soul; and the +wing on which the soul soars is nourished with this. And there is a law +of Destiny, that the soul which attains any vision of truth in company +with a god is preserved from harm until the next period, and if +attaining always is always unharmed. But when she is unable to follow, +and fails to behold the truth, and through some ill-hap sinks beneath +the double load of forgetfulness and vice, and her wings fall from her +and she drops to the ground, then the law ordains that this soul shall +at her first birth pass, not into any other animal, but only into man; +and the soul which has seen most of truth shall come to the birth as a +philosopher, or artist, or some musical and loving nature; that which +has seen truth in the second degree shall be some righteous king +or warrior chief; the soul which is of the third class shall be a +politician, or economist, or trader; the fourth shall be a lover of +gymnastic toils, or a physician; the fifth shall lead the life of a +prophet or hierophant; to the sixth the character of poet or some other +imitative artist will be assigned; to the seventh the life of an artisan +or husbandman; to the eighth that of a sophist or demagogue; to the +ninth that of a tyrant--all these are states of probation, in which +he who does righteously improves, and he who does unrighteously, +deteriorates his lot. + +Ten thousand years must elapse before the soul of each one can return to +the place from whence she came, for she cannot grow her wings in less; +only the soul of a philosopher, guileless and true, or the soul of a +lover, who is not devoid of philosophy, may acquire wings in the third +of the recurring periods of a thousand years; he is distinguished from +the ordinary good man who gains wings in three thousand years:--and they +who choose this life three times in succession have wings given them, +and go away at the end of three thousand years. But the others (The +philosopher alone is not subject to judgment (krisis), for he has never +lost the vision of truth.) receive judgment when they have completed +their first life, and after the judgment they go, some of them to the +houses of correction which are under the earth, and are punished; others +to some place in heaven whither they are lightly borne by justice, and +there they live in a manner worthy of the life which they led here when +in the form of men. And at the end of the first thousand years the good +souls and also the evil souls both come to draw lots and choose their +second life, and they may take any which they please. The soul of a man +may pass into the life of a beast, or from the beast return again into +the man. But the soul which has never seen the truth will not pass into +the human form. For a man must have intelligence of universals, and be +able to proceed from the many particulars of sense to one conception of +reason;--this is the recollection of those things which our soul once +saw while following God--when regardless of that which we now call being +she raised her head up towards the true being. And therefore the mind +of the philosopher alone has wings; and this is just, for he is always, +according to the measure of his abilities, clinging in recollection to +those things in which God abides, and in beholding which He is what He +is. And he who employs aright these memories is ever being initiated +into perfect mysteries and alone becomes truly perfect. But, as he +forgets earthly interests and is rapt in the divine, the vulgar deem him +mad, and rebuke him; they do not see that he is inspired. + +Thus far I have been speaking of the fourth and last kind of madness, +which is imputed to him who, when he sees the beauty of earth, is +transported with the recollection of the true beauty; he would like to +fly away, but he cannot; he is like a bird fluttering and looking upward +and careless of the world below; and he is therefore thought to be mad. +And I have shown this of all inspirations to be the noblest and highest +and the offspring of the highest to him who has or shares in it, and +that he who loves the beautiful is called a lover because he partakes of +it. For, as has been already said, every soul of man has in the way of +nature beheld true being; this was the condition of her passing into the +form of man. But all souls do not easily recall the things of the other +world; they may have seen them for a short time only, or they may have +been unfortunate in their earthly lot, and, having had their hearts +turned to unrighteousness through some corrupting influence, they may +have lost the memory of the holy things which once they saw. Few only +retain an adequate remembrance of them; and they, when they behold +here any image of that other world, are rapt in amazement; but they +are ignorant of what this rapture means, because they do not clearly +perceive. For there is no light of justice or temperance or any of the +higher ideas which are precious to souls in the earthly copies of them: +they are seen through a glass dimly; and there are few who, going to the +images, behold in them the realities, and these only with difficulty. +There was a time when with the rest of the happy band they saw beauty +shining in brightness,--we philosophers following in the train of Zeus, +others in company with other gods; and then we beheld the beatific +vision and were initiated into a mystery which may be truly called most +blessed, celebrated by us in our state of innocence, before we had +any experience of evils to come, when we were admitted to the sight +of apparitions innocent and simple and calm and happy, which we beheld +shining in pure light, pure ourselves and not yet enshrined in that +living tomb which we carry about, now that we are imprisoned in the +body, like an oyster in his shell. Let me linger over the memory of +scenes which have passed away. + +But of beauty, I repeat again that we saw her there shining in company +with the celestial forms; and coming to earth we find her here too, +shining in clearness through the clearest aperture of sense. For sight +is the most piercing of our bodily senses; though not by that is wisdom +seen; her loveliness would have been transporting if there had been +a visible image of her, and the other ideas, if they had visible +counterparts, would be equally lovely. But this is the privilege of +beauty, that being the loveliest she is also the most palpable to sight. +Now he who is not newly initiated or who has become corrupted, does not +easily rise out of this world to the sight of true beauty in the other; +he looks only at her earthly namesake, and instead of being awed at the +sight of her, he is given over to pleasure, and like a brutish beast he +rushes on to enjoy and beget; he consorts with wantonness, and is not +afraid or ashamed of pursuing pleasure in violation of nature. But +he whose initiation is recent, and who has been the spectator of many +glories in the other world, is amazed when he sees any one having a +godlike face or form, which is the expression of divine beauty; and at +first a shudder runs through him, and again the old awe steals over him; +then looking upon the face of his beloved as of a god he reverences him, +and if he were not afraid of being thought a downright madman, he would +sacrifice to his beloved as to the image of a god; then while he gazes +on him there is a sort of reaction, and the shudder passes into an +unusual heat and perspiration; for, as he receives the effluence of +beauty through the eyes, the wing moistens and he warms. And as he +warms, the parts out of which the wing grew, and which had been hitherto +closed and rigid, and had prevented the wing from shooting forth, are +melted, and as nourishment streams upon him, the lower end of the wing +begins to swell and grow from the root upwards; and the growth extends +under the whole soul--for once the whole was winged. During this process +the whole soul is all in a state of ebullition and effervescence,--which +may be compared to the irritation and uneasiness in the gums at the +time of cutting teeth,--bubbles up, and has a feeling of uneasiness and +tickling; but when in like manner the soul is beginning to grow wings, +the beauty of the beloved meets her eye and she receives the sensible +warm motion of particles which flow towards her, therefore called +emotion (imeros), and is refreshed and warmed by them, and then she +ceases from her pain with joy. But when she is parted from her beloved +and her moisture fails, then the orifices of the passage out of which +the wing shoots dry up and close, and intercept the germ of the wing; +which, being shut up with the emotion, throbbing as with the pulsations +of an artery, pricks the aperture which is nearest, until at length the +entire soul is pierced and maddened and pained, and at the recollection +of beauty is again delighted. And from both of them together the soul is +oppressed at the strangeness of her condition, and is in a great strait +and excitement, and in her madness can neither sleep by night nor abide +in her place by day. And wherever she thinks that she will behold the +beautiful one, thither in her desire she runs. And when she has seen +him, and bathed herself in the waters of beauty, her constraint is +loosened, and she is refreshed, and has no more pangs and pains; and +this is the sweetest of all pleasures at the time, and is the reason +why the soul of the lover will never forsake his beautiful one, whom he +esteems above all; he has forgotten mother and brethren and companions, +and he thinks nothing of the neglect and loss of his property; the rules +and proprieties of life, on which he formerly prided himself, he now +despises, and is ready to sleep like a servant, wherever he is allowed, +as near as he can to his desired one, who is the object of his worship, +and the physician who can alone assuage the greatness of his pain. And +this state, my dear imaginary youth to whom I am talking, is by men +called love, and among the gods has a name at which you, in your +simplicity, may be inclined to mock; there are two lines in the +apocryphal writings of Homer in which the name occurs. One of them is +rather outrageous, and not altogether metrical. They are as follows: + +'Mortals call him fluttering love, But the immortals call him winged +one, Because the growing of wings (Or, reading pterothoiton, 'the +movement of wings.') is a necessity to him.' + +You may believe this, but not unless you like. At any rate the loves of +lovers and their causes are such as I have described. + +Now the lover who is taken to be the attendant of Zeus is better able to +bear the winged god, and can endure a heavier burden; but the attendants +and companions of Ares, when under the influence of love, if they fancy +that they have been at all wronged, are ready to kill and put an end +to themselves and their beloved. And he who follows in the train of any +other god, while he is unspoiled and the impression lasts, honours and +imitates him, as far as he is able; and after the manner of his God he +behaves in his intercourse with his beloved and with the rest of the +world during the first period of his earthly existence. Every one +chooses his love from the ranks of beauty according to his character, +and this he makes his god, and fashions and adorns as a sort of image +which he is to fall down and worship. The followers of Zeus desire that +their beloved should have a soul like him; and therefore they seek out +some one of a philosophical and imperial nature, and when they have +found him and loved him, they do all they can to confirm such a nature +in him, and if they have no experience of such a disposition hitherto, +they learn of any one who can teach them, and themselves follow in the +same way. And they have the less difficulty in finding the nature of +their own god in themselves, because they have been compelled to gaze +intensely on him; their recollection clings to him, and they become +possessed of him, and receive from him their character and disposition, +so far as man can participate in God. The qualities of their god they +attribute to the beloved, wherefore they love him all the more, and if, +like the Bacchic Nymphs, they draw inspiration from Zeus, they pour out +their own fountain upon him, wanting to make him as like as possible +to their own god. But those who are the followers of Here seek a royal +love, and when they have found him they do just the same with him; and +in like manner the followers of Apollo, and of every other god walking +in the ways of their god, seek a love who is to be made like him whom +they serve, and when they have found him, they themselves imitate their +god, and persuade their love to do the same, and educate him into the +manner and nature of the god as far as they each can; for no feelings of +envy or jealousy are entertained by them towards their beloved, but they +do their utmost to create in him the greatest likeness of themselves and +of the god whom they honour. Thus fair and blissful to the beloved is +the desire of the inspired lover, and the initiation of which I speak +into the mysteries of true love, if he be captured by the lover and +their purpose is effected. Now the beloved is taken captive in the +following manner:-- + +As I said at the beginning of this tale, I divided each soul into +three--two horses and a charioteer; and one of the horses was good and +the other bad: the division may remain, but I have not yet explained in +what the goodness or badness of either consists, and to that I will +now proceed. The right-hand horse is upright and cleanly made; he has a +lofty neck and an aquiline nose; his colour is white, and his eyes dark; +he is a lover of honour and modesty and temperance, and the follower +of true glory; he needs no touch of the whip, but is guided by word and +admonition only. The other is a crooked lumbering animal, put together +anyhow; he has a short thick neck; he is flat-faced and of a dark +colour, with grey eyes and blood-red complexion (Or with grey and +blood-shot eyes.); the mate of insolence and pride, shag-eared and deaf, +hardly yielding to whip and spur. Now when the charioteer beholds the +vision of love, and has his whole soul warmed through sense, and is full +of the prickings and ticklings of desire, the obedient steed, then +as always under the government of shame, refrains from leaping on the +beloved; but the other, heedless of the pricks and of the blows of +the whip, plunges and runs away, giving all manner of trouble to his +companion and the charioteer, whom he forces to approach the beloved and +to remember the joys of love. They at first indignantly oppose him and +will not be urged on to do terrible and unlawful deeds; but at last, +when he persists in plaguing them, they yield and agree to do as he bids +them. And now they are at the spot and behold the flashing beauty of the +beloved; which when the charioteer sees, his memory is carried to the +true beauty, whom he beholds in company with Modesty like an image +placed upon a holy pedestal. He sees her, but he is afraid and falls +backwards in adoration, and by his fall is compelled to pull back the +reins with such violence as to bring both the steeds on their haunches, +the one willing and unresisting, the unruly one very unwilling; and when +they have gone back a little, the one is overcome with shame and wonder, +and his whole soul is bathed in perspiration; the other, when the +pain is over which the bridle and the fall had given him, having with +difficulty taken breath, is full of wrath and reproaches, which he +heaps upon the charioteer and his fellow-steed, for want of courage +and manhood, declaring that they have been false to their agreement and +guilty of desertion. Again they refuse, and again he urges them on, and +will scarce yield to their prayer that he would wait until another time. +When the appointed hour comes, they make as if they had forgotten, and +he reminds them, fighting and neighing and dragging them on, until at +length he on the same thoughts intent, forces them to draw near again. +And when they are near he stoops his head and puts up his tail, and +takes the bit in his teeth and pulls shamelessly. Then the charioteer is +worse off than ever; he falls back like a racer at the barrier, and with +a still more violent wrench drags the bit out of the teeth of the wild +steed and covers his abusive tongue and jaws with blood, and forces his +legs and haunches to the ground and punishes him sorely. And when this +has happened several times and the villain has ceased from his wanton +way, he is tamed and humbled, and follows the will of the charioteer, +and when he sees the beautiful one he is ready to die of fear. And from +that time forward the soul of the lover follows the beloved in modesty +and holy fear. + +And so the beloved who, like a god, has received every true and loyal +service from his lover, not in pretence but in reality, being also +himself of a nature friendly to his admirer, if in former days he +has blushed to own his passion and turned away his lover, because his +youthful companions or others slanderously told him that he would be +disgraced, now as years advance, at the appointed age and time, is led +to receive him into communion. For fate which has ordained that there +shall be no friendship among the evil has also ordained that there shall +ever be friendship among the good. And the beloved when he has received +him into communion and intimacy, is quite amazed at the good-will of the +lover; he recognises that the inspired friend is worth all other +friends or kinsmen; they have nothing of friendship in them worthy to be +compared with his. And when this feeling continues and he is nearer +to him and embraces him, in gymnastic exercises and at other times of +meeting, then the fountain of that stream, which Zeus when he was in +love with Ganymede named Desire, overflows upon the lover, and some +enters into his soul, and some when he is filled flows out again; and as +a breeze or an echo rebounds from the smooth rocks and returns whence it +came, so does the stream of beauty, passing through the eyes which are +the windows of the soul, come back to the beautiful one; there arriving +and quickening the passages of the wings, watering them and inclining +them to grow, and filling the soul of the beloved also with love. And +thus he loves, but he knows not what; he does not understand and cannot +explain his own state; he appears to have caught the infection of +blindness from another; the lover is his mirror in whom he is beholding +himself, but he is not aware of this. When he is with the lover, both +cease from their pain, but when he is away then he longs as he is +longed for, and has love's image, love for love (Anteros) lodging in his +breast, which he calls and believes to be not love but friendship only, +and his desire is as the desire of the other, but weaker; he wants +to see him, touch him, kiss him, embrace him, and probably not long +afterwards his desire is accomplished. When they meet, the wanton steed +of the lover has a word to say to the charioteer; he would like to have +a little pleasure in return for many pains, but the wanton steed of +the beloved says not a word, for he is bursting with passion which he +understands not;--he throws his arms round the lover and embraces him +as his dearest friend; and, when they are side by side, he is not in a +state in which he can refuse the lover anything, if he ask him; although +his fellow-steed and the charioteer oppose him with the arguments +of shame and reason. After this their happiness depends upon their +self-control; if the better elements of the mind which lead to order +and philosophy prevail, then they pass their life here in happiness and +harmony--masters of themselves and orderly--enslaving the vicious and +emancipating the virtuous elements of the soul; and when the end comes, +they are light and winged for flight, having conquered in one of the +three heavenly or truly Olympian victories; nor can human discipline or +divine inspiration confer any greater blessing on man than this. If, +on the other hand, they leave philosophy and lead the lower life of +ambition, then probably, after wine or in some other careless hour, the +two wanton animals take the two souls when off their guard and bring +them together, and they accomplish that desire of their hearts which to +the many is bliss; and this having once enjoyed they continue to enjoy, +yet rarely because they have not the approval of the whole soul. They +too are dear, but not so dear to one another as the others, either at +the time of their love or afterwards. They consider that they have given +and taken from each other the most sacred pledges, and they may not +break them and fall into enmity. At last they pass out of the body, +unwinged, but eager to soar, and thus obtain no mean reward of love and +madness. For those who have once begun the heavenward pilgrimage may not +go down again to darkness and the journey beneath the earth, but they +live in light always; happy companions in their pilgrimage, and when the +time comes at which they receive their wings they have the same plumage +because of their love. + +Thus great are the heavenly blessings which the friendship of a lover +will confer upon you, my youth. Whereas the attachment of the non-lover, +which is alloyed with a worldly prudence and has worldly and niggardly +ways of doling out benefits, will breed in your soul those vulgar +qualities which the populace applaud, will send you bowling round the +earth during a period of nine thousand years, and leave you a fool in +the world below. + +And thus, dear Eros, I have made and paid my recantation, as well and as +fairly as I could; more especially in the matter of the poetical figures +which I was compelled to use, because Phaedrus would have them. And now +forgive the past and accept the present, and be gracious and merciful to +me, and do not in thine anger deprive me of sight, or take from me the +art of love which thou hast given me, but grant that I may be yet more +esteemed in the eyes of the fair. And if Phaedrus or I myself said +anything rude in our first speeches, blame Lysias, who is the father +of the brat, and let us have no more of his progeny; bid him study +philosophy, like his brother Polemarchus; and then his lover Phaedrus +will no longer halt between two opinions, but will dedicate himself +wholly to love and to philosophical discourses. + +PHAEDRUS: I join in the prayer, Socrates, and say with you, if this +be for my good, may your words come to pass. But why did you make your +second oration so much finer than the first? I wonder why. And I begin +to be afraid that I shall lose conceit of Lysias, and that he will +appear tame in comparison, even if he be willing to put another as fine +and as long as yours into the field, which I doubt. For quite lately one +of your politicians was abusing him on this very account; and called +him a 'speech writer' again and again. So that a feeling of pride may +probably induce him to give up writing speeches. + +SOCRATES: What a very amusing notion! But I think, my young man, +that you are much mistaken in your friend if you imagine that he +is frightened at a little noise; and, possibly, you think that his +assailant was in earnest? + +PHAEDRUS: I thought, Socrates, that he was. And you are aware that the +greatest and most influential statesmen are ashamed of writing speeches +and leaving them in a written form, lest they should be called Sophists +by posterity. + +SOCRATES: You seem to be unconscious, Phaedrus, that the 'sweet elbow' +(A proverb, like 'the grapes are sour,' applied to pleasures which +cannot be had, meaning sweet things which, like the elbow, are out of +the reach of the mouth. The promised pleasure turns out to be a long and +tedious affair.) of the proverb is really the long arm of the Nile. And +you appear to be equally unaware of the fact that this sweet elbow +of theirs is also a long arm. For there is nothing of which our great +politicians are so fond as of writing speeches and bequeathing them to +posterity. And they add their admirers' names at the top of the writing, +out of gratitude to them. + +PHAEDRUS: What do you mean? I do not understand. + +SOCRATES: Why, do you not know that when a politician writes, he begins +with the names of his approvers? + +PHAEDRUS: How so? + +SOCRATES: Why, he begins in this manner: 'Be it enacted by the senate, +the people, or both, on the motion of a certain person,' who is our +author; and so putting on a serious face, he proceeds to display his own +wisdom to his admirers in what is often a long and tedious composition. +Now what is that sort of thing but a regular piece of authorship? + +PHAEDRUS: True. + +SOCRATES: And if the law is finally approved, then the author leaves the +theatre in high delight; but if the law is rejected and he is done out +of his speech-making, and not thought good enough to write, then he and +his party are in mourning. + +PHAEDRUS: Very true. + +SOCRATES: So far are they from despising, or rather so highly do they +value the practice of writing. + +PHAEDRUS: No doubt. + +SOCRATES: And when the king or orator has the power, as Lycurgus or +Solon or Darius had, of attaining an immortality or authorship in a +state, is he not thought by posterity, when they see his compositions, +and does he not think himself, while he is yet alive, to be a god? + +PHAEDRUS: Very true. + +SOCRATES: Then do you think that any one of this class, however +ill-disposed, would reproach Lysias with being an author? + +PHAEDRUS: Not upon your view; for according to you he would be casting a +slur upon his own favourite pursuit. + +SOCRATES: Any one may see that there is no disgrace in the mere fact of +writing. + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly not. + +SOCRATES: The disgrace begins when a man writes not well, but badly. + +PHAEDRUS: Clearly. + +SOCRATES: And what is well and what is badly--need we ask Lysias, or any +other poet or orator, who ever wrote or will write either a political or +any other work, in metre or out of metre, poet or prose writer, to teach +us this? + +PHAEDRUS: Need we? For what should a man live if not for the pleasures +of discourse? Surely not for the sake of bodily pleasures, which almost +always have previous pain as a condition of them, and therefore are +rightly called slavish. + +SOCRATES: There is time enough. And I believe that the grasshoppers +chirruping after their manner in the heat of the sun over our heads are +talking to one another and looking down at us. What would they say if +they saw that we, like the many, are not conversing, but slumbering at +mid-day, lulled by their voices, too indolent to think? Would they not +have a right to laugh at us? They might imagine that we were slaves, +who, coming to rest at a place of resort of theirs, like sheep lie +asleep at noon around the well. But if they see us discoursing, and +like Odysseus sailing past them, deaf to their siren voices, they may +perhaps, out of respect, give us of the gifts which they receive from +the gods that they may impart them to men. + +PHAEDRUS: What gifts do you mean? I never heard of any. + +SOCRATES: A lover of music like yourself ought surely to have heard the +story of the grasshoppers, who are said to have been human beings in +an age before the Muses. And when the Muses came and song appeared they +were ravished with delight; and singing always, never thought of eating +and drinking, until at last in their forgetfulness they died. And now +they live again in the grasshoppers; and this is the return which the +Muses make to them--they neither hunger, nor thirst, but from the hour +of their birth are always singing, and never eating or drinking; and +when they die they go and inform the Muses in heaven who honours them on +earth. They win the love of Terpsichore for the dancers by their report +of them; of Erato for the lovers, and of the other Muses for those who +do them honour, according to the several ways of honouring them;--of +Calliope the eldest Muse and of Urania who is next to her, for the +philosophers, of whose music the grasshoppers make report to them; for +these are the Muses who are chiefly concerned with heaven and thought, +divine as well as human, and they have the sweetest utterance. For many +reasons, then, we ought always to talk and not to sleep at mid-day. + +PHAEDRUS: Let us talk. + +SOCRATES: Shall we discuss the rules of writing and speech as we were +proposing? + +PHAEDRUS: Very good. + +SOCRATES: In good speaking should not the mind of the speaker know the +truth of the matter about which he is going to speak? + +PHAEDRUS: And yet, Socrates, I have heard that he who would be an orator +has nothing to do with true justice, but only with that which is likely +to be approved by the many who sit in judgment; nor with the truly good +or honourable, but only with opinion about them, and that from opinion +comes persuasion, and not from the truth. + +SOCRATES: The words of the wise are not to be set aside; for there is +probably something in them; and therefore the meaning of this saying is +not hastily to be dismissed. + +PHAEDRUS: Very true. + +SOCRATES: Let us put the matter thus:--Suppose that I persuaded you +to buy a horse and go to the wars. Neither of us knew what a horse was +like, but I knew that you believed a horse to be of tame animals the one +which has the longest ears. + +PHAEDRUS: That would be ridiculous. + +SOCRATES: There is something more ridiculous coming:--Suppose, further, +that in sober earnest I, having persuaded you of this, went and composed +a speech in honour of an ass, whom I entitled a horse beginning: 'A +noble animal and a most useful possession, especially in war, and you +may get on his back and fight, and he will carry baggage or anything.' + +PHAEDRUS: How ridiculous! + +SOCRATES: Ridiculous! Yes; but is not even a ridiculous friend better +than a cunning enemy? + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: And when the orator instead of putting an ass in the place +of a horse, puts good for evil, being himself as ignorant of their true +nature as the city on which he imposes is ignorant; and having studied +the notions of the multitude, falsely persuades them not about 'the +shadow of an ass,' which he confounds with a horse, but about good which +he confounds with evil,--what will be the harvest which rhetoric will be +likely to gather after the sowing of that seed? + +PHAEDRUS: The reverse of good. + +SOCRATES: But perhaps rhetoric has been getting too roughly handled by +us, and she might answer: What amazing nonsense you are talking! As if I +forced any man to learn to speak in ignorance of the truth! Whatever +my advice may be worth, I should have told him to arrive at the truth +first, and then come to me. At the same time I boldly assert that mere +knowledge of the truth will not give you the art of persuasion. + +PHAEDRUS: There is reason in the lady's defence of herself. + +SOCRATES: Quite true; if only the other arguments which remain to be +brought up bear her witness that she is an art at all. But I seem to +hear them arraying themselves on the opposite side, declaring that she +speaks falsely, and that rhetoric is a mere routine and trick, not an +art. Lo! a Spartan appears, and says that there never is nor ever will +be a real art of speaking which is divorced from the truth. + +PHAEDRUS: And what are these arguments, Socrates? Bring them out that we +may examine them. + +SOCRATES: Come out, fair children, and convince Phaedrus, who is the +father of similar beauties, that he will never be able to speak about +anything as he ought to speak unless he have a knowledge of philosophy. +And let Phaedrus answer you. + +PHAEDRUS: Put the question. + +SOCRATES: Is not rhetoric, taken generally, a universal art of +enchanting the mind by arguments; which is practised not only in courts +and public assemblies, but in private houses also, having to do with +all matters, great as well as small, good and bad alike, and is in all +equally right, and equally to be esteemed--that is what you have heard? + +PHAEDRUS: Nay, not exactly that; I should say rather that I have heard +the art confined to speaking and writing in lawsuits, and to speaking in +public assemblies--not extended farther. + +SOCRATES: Then I suppose that you have only heard of the rhetoric of +Nestor and Odysseus, which they composed in their leisure hours when at +Troy, and never of the rhetoric of Palamedes? + +PHAEDRUS: No more than of Nestor and Odysseus, unless Gorgias is your +Nestor, and Thrasymachus or Theodorus your Odysseus. + +SOCRATES: Perhaps that is my meaning. But let us leave them. And do +you tell me, instead, what are plaintiff and defendant doing in a law +court--are they not contending? + +PHAEDRUS: Exactly so. + +SOCRATES: About the just and unjust--that is the matter in dispute? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes. + +SOCRATES: And a professor of the art will make the same thing appear to +the same persons to be at one time just, at another time, if he is so +inclined, to be unjust? + +PHAEDRUS: Exactly. + +SOCRATES: And when he speaks in the assembly, he will make the same +things seem good to the city at one time, and at another time the +reverse of good? + +PHAEDRUS: That is true. + +SOCRATES: Have we not heard of the Eleatic Palamedes (Zeno), who has an +art of speaking by which he makes the same things appear to his hearers +like and unlike, one and many, at rest and in motion? + +PHAEDRUS: Very true. + +SOCRATES: The art of disputation, then, is not confined to the courts +and the assembly, but is one and the same in every use of language; this +is the art, if there be such an art, which is able to find a likeness of +everything to which a likeness can be found, and draws into the light of +day the likenesses and disguises which are used by others? + +PHAEDRUS: How do you mean? + +SOCRATES: Let me put the matter thus: When will there be more chance of +deception--when the difference is large or small? + +PHAEDRUS: When the difference is small. + +SOCRATES: And you will be less likely to be discovered in passing by +degrees into the other extreme than when you go all at once? + +PHAEDRUS: Of course. + +SOCRATES: He, then, who would deceive others, and not be deceived, must +exactly know the real likenesses and differences of things? + +PHAEDRUS: He must. + +SOCRATES: And if he is ignorant of the true nature of any subject, how +can he detect the greater or less degree of likeness in other things to +that of which by the hypothesis he is ignorant? + +PHAEDRUS: He cannot. + +SOCRATES: And when men are deceived and their notions are at +variance with realities, it is clear that the error slips in through +resemblances? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, that is the way. + +SOCRATES: Then he who would be a master of the art must understand the +real nature of everything; or he will never know either how to make +the gradual departure from truth into the opposite of truth which is +effected by the help of resemblances, or how to avoid it? + +PHAEDRUS: He will not. + +SOCRATES: He then, who being ignorant of the truth aims at appearances, +will only attain an art of rhetoric which is ridiculous and is not an +art at all? + +PHAEDRUS: That may be expected. + +SOCRATES: Shall I propose that we look for examples of art and want of +art, according to our notion of them, in the speech of Lysias which you +have in your hand, and in my own speech? + +PHAEDRUS: Nothing could be better; and indeed I think that our previous +argument has been too abstract and wanting in illustrations. + +SOCRATES: Yes; and the two speeches happen to afford a very good example +of the way in which the speaker who knows the truth may, without any +serious purpose, steal away the hearts of his hearers. This piece +of good-fortune I attribute to the local deities; and, perhaps, the +prophets of the Muses who are singing over our heads may have imparted +their inspiration to me. For I do not imagine that I have any rhetorical +art of my own. + +PHAEDRUS: Granted; if you will only please to get on. + +SOCRATES: Suppose that you read me the first words of Lysias' speech. + +PHAEDRUS: 'You know how matters stand with me, and how, as I conceive, +they might be arranged for our common interest; and I maintain that I +ought not to fail in my suit, because I am not your lover. For lovers +repent--' + +SOCRATES: Enough:--Now, shall I point out the rhetorical error of those +words? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes. + +SOCRATES: Every one is aware that about some things we are agreed, +whereas about other things we differ. + +PHAEDRUS: I think that I understand you; but will you explain yourself? + +SOCRATES: When any one speaks of iron and silver, is not the same thing +present in the minds of all? + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: But when any one speaks of justice and goodness we part +company and are at odds with one another and with ourselves? + +PHAEDRUS: Precisely. + +SOCRATES: Then in some things we agree, but not in others? + +PHAEDRUS: That is true. + +SOCRATES: In which are we more likely to be deceived, and in which has +rhetoric the greater power? + +PHAEDRUS: Clearly, in the uncertain class. + +SOCRATES: Then the rhetorician ought to make a regular division, and +acquire a distinct notion of both classes, as well of that in which the +many err, as of that in which they do not err? + +PHAEDRUS: He who made such a distinction would have an excellent +principle. + +SOCRATES: Yes; and in the next place he must have a keen eye for the +observation of particulars in speaking, and not make a mistake about the +class to which they are to be referred. + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: Now to which class does love belong--to the debatable or to +the undisputed class? + +PHAEDRUS: To the debatable, clearly; for if not, do you think that love +would have allowed you to say as you did, that he is an evil both to the +lover and the beloved, and also the greatest possible good? + +SOCRATES: Capital. But will you tell me whether I defined love at the +beginning of my speech? for, having been in an ecstasy, I cannot well +remember. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, indeed; that you did, and no mistake. + +SOCRATES: Then I perceive that the Nymphs of Achelous and Pan the son +of Hermes, who inspired me, were far better rhetoricians than Lysias +the son of Cephalus. Alas! how inferior to them he is! But perhaps I +am mistaken; and Lysias at the commencement of his lover's speech did +insist on our supposing love to be something or other which he fancied +him to be, and according to this model he fashioned and framed the +remainder of his discourse. Suppose we read his beginning over again: + +PHAEDRUS: If you please; but you will not find what you want. + +SOCRATES: Read, that I may have his exact words. + +PHAEDRUS: 'You know how matters stand with me, and how, as I conceive, +they might be arranged for our common interest; and I maintain I ought +not to fail in my suit because I am not your lover, for lovers repent of +the kindnesses which they have shown, when their love is over.' + +SOCRATES: Here he appears to have done just the reverse of what he +ought; for he has begun at the end, and is swimming on his back through +the flood to the place of starting. His address to the fair youth begins +where the lover would have ended. Am I not right, sweet Phaedrus? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, indeed, Socrates; he does begin at the end. + +SOCRATES: Then as to the other topics--are they not thrown down anyhow? +Is there any principle in them? Why should the next topic follow next in +order, or any other topic? I cannot help fancying in my ignorance that +he wrote off boldly just what came into his head, but I dare say that +you would recognize a rhetorical necessity in the succession of the +several parts of the composition? + +PHAEDRUS: You have too good an opinion of me if you think that I have +any such insight into his principles of composition. + +SOCRATES: At any rate, you will allow that every discourse ought to be +a living creature, having a body of its own and a head and feet; there +should be a middle, beginning, and end, adapted to one another and to +the whole? + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: Can this be said of the discourse of Lysias? See whether you +can find any more connexion in his words than in the epitaph which is +said by some to have been inscribed on the grave of Midas the Phrygian. + +PHAEDRUS: What is there remarkable in the epitaph? + +SOCRATES: It is as follows:-- + +'I am a maiden of bronze and lie on the tomb of Midas; So long as water +flows and tall trees grow, So long here on this spot by his sad tomb +abiding, I shall declare to passers-by that Midas sleeps below.' + +Now in this rhyme whether a line comes first or comes last, as you will +perceive, makes no difference. + +PHAEDRUS: You are making fun of that oration of ours. + +SOCRATES: Well, I will say no more about your friend's speech lest I +should give offence to you; although I think that it might furnish many +other examples of what a man ought rather to avoid. But I will proceed +to the other speech, which, as I think, is also suggestive to students +of rhetoric. + +PHAEDRUS: In what way? + +SOCRATES: The two speeches, as you may remember, were unlike; the one +argued that the lover and the other that the non-lover ought to be +accepted. + +PHAEDRUS: And right manfully. + +SOCRATES: You should rather say 'madly;' and madness was the argument of +them, for, as I said, 'love is a madness.' + +PHAEDRUS: Yes. + +SOCRATES: And of madness there were two kinds; one produced by human +infirmity, the other was a divine release of the soul from the yoke of +custom and convention. + +PHAEDRUS: True. + +SOCRATES: The divine madness was subdivided into four kinds, prophetic, +initiatory, poetic, erotic, having four gods presiding over them; the +first was the inspiration of Apollo, the second that of Dionysus, the +third that of the Muses, the fourth that of Aphrodite and Eros. In the +description of the last kind of madness, which was also said to be +the best, we spoke of the affection of love in a figure, into which we +introduced a tolerably credible and possibly true though partly erring +myth, which was also a hymn in honour of Love, who is your lord and also +mine, Phaedrus, and the guardian of fair children, and to him we sung +the hymn in measured and solemn strain. + +PHAEDRUS: I know that I had great pleasure in listening to you. + +SOCRATES: Let us take this instance and note how the transition was made +from blame to praise. + +PHAEDRUS: What do you mean? + +SOCRATES: I mean to say that the composition was mostly playful. Yet in +these chance fancies of the hour were involved two principles of which +we should be too glad to have a clearer description if art could give us +one. + +PHAEDRUS: What are they? + +SOCRATES: First, the comprehension of scattered particulars in one idea; +as in our definition of love, which whether true or false certainly gave +clearness and consistency to the discourse, the speaker should define +his several notions and so make his meaning clear. + +PHAEDRUS: What is the other principle, Socrates? + +SOCRATES: The second principle is that of division into species +according to the natural formation, where the joint is, not breaking any +part as a bad carver might. Just as our two discourses, alike assumed, +first of all, a single form of unreason; and then, as the body which +from being one becomes double and may be divided into a left side and +right side, each having parts right and left of the same name--after +this manner the speaker proceeded to divide the parts of the left side +and did not desist until he found in them an evil or left-handed love +which he justly reviled; and the other discourse leading us to the +madness which lay on the right side, found another love, also having the +same name, but divine, which the speaker held up before us and applauded +and affirmed to be the author of the greatest benefits. + +PHAEDRUS: Most true. + +SOCRATES: I am myself a great lover of these processes of division and +generalization; they help me to speak and to think. And if I find any +man who is able to see 'a One and Many' in nature, him I follow, and +'walk in his footsteps as if he were a god.' And those who have this +art, I have hitherto been in the habit of calling dialecticians; but God +knows whether the name is right or not. And I should like to know what +name you would give to your or to Lysias' disciples, and whether this +may not be that famous art of rhetoric which Thrasymachus and others +teach and practise? Skilful speakers they are, and impart their skill to +any who is willing to make kings of them and to bring gifts to them. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, they are royal men; but their art is not the same +with the art of those whom you call, and rightly, in my opinion, +dialecticians:--Still we are in the dark about rhetoric. + +SOCRATES: What do you mean? The remains of it, if there be anything +remaining which can be brought under rules of art, must be a fine thing; +and, at any rate, is not to be despised by you and me. But how much is +left? + +PHAEDRUS: There is a great deal surely to be found in books of rhetoric? + +SOCRATES: Yes; thank you for reminding me:--There is the exordium, +showing how the speech should begin, if I remember rightly; that is what +you mean--the niceties of the art? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes. + +SOCRATES: Then follows the statement of facts, and upon that witnesses; +thirdly, proofs; fourthly, probabilities are to come; the great +Byzantian word-maker also speaks, if I am not mistaken, of confirmation +and further confirmation. + +PHAEDRUS: You mean the excellent Theodorus. + +SOCRATES: Yes; and he tells how refutation or further refutation is to +be managed, whether in accusation or defence. I ought also to mention +the illustrious Parian, Evenus, who first invented insinuations and +indirect praises; and also indirect censures, which according to some +he put into verse to help the memory. But shall I 'to dumb forgetfulness +consign' Tisias and Gorgias, who are not ignorant that probability is +superior to truth, and who by force of argument make the little appear +great and the great little, disguise the new in old fashions and the old +in new fashions, and have discovered forms for everything, either short +or going on to infinity. I remember Prodicus laughing when I told him of +this; he said that he had himself discovered the true rule of art, which +was to be neither long nor short, but of a convenient length. + +PHAEDRUS: Well done, Prodicus! + +SOCRATES: Then there is Hippias the Elean stranger, who probably agrees +with him. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes. + +SOCRATES: And there is also Polus, who has treasuries of diplasiology, +and gnomology, and eikonology, and who teaches in them the names of +which Licymnius made him a present; they were to give a polish. + +PHAEDRUS: Had not Protagoras something of the same sort? + +SOCRATES: Yes, rules of correct diction and many other fine precepts; +for the 'sorrows of a poor old man,' or any other pathetic case, no one +is better than the Chalcedonian giant; he can put a whole company of +people into a passion and out of one again by his mighty magic, and +is first-rate at inventing or disposing of any sort of calumny on any +grounds or none. All of them agree in asserting that a speech should end +in a recapitulation, though they do not all agree to use the same word. + +PHAEDRUS: You mean that there should be a summing up of the arguments in +order to remind the hearers of them. + +SOCRATES: I have now said all that I have to say of the art of rhetoric: +have you anything to add? + +PHAEDRUS: Not much; nothing very important. + +SOCRATES: Leave the unimportant and let us bring the really important +question into the light of day, which is: What power has this art of +rhetoric, and when? + +PHAEDRUS: A very great power in public meetings. + +SOCRATES: It has. But I should like to know whether you have the same +feeling as I have about the rhetoricians? To me there seem to be a great +many holes in their web. + +PHAEDRUS: Give an example. + +SOCRATES: I will. Suppose a person to come to your friend Eryximachus, +or to his father Acumenus, and to say to him: 'I know how to apply drugs +which shall have either a heating or a cooling effect, and I can give +a vomit and also a purge, and all that sort of thing; and knowing all +this, as I do, I claim to be a physician and to make physicians by +imparting this knowledge to others,'--what do you suppose that they +would say? + +PHAEDRUS: They would be sure to ask him whether he knew 'to whom' he +would give his medicines, and 'when,' and 'how much.' + +SOCRATES: And suppose that he were to reply: 'No; I know nothing of all +that; I expect the patient who consults me to be able to do these things +for himself'? + +PHAEDRUS: They would say in reply that he is a madman or a pedant who +fancies that he is a physician because he has read something in a +book, or has stumbled on a prescription or two, although he has no real +understanding of the art of medicine. + +SOCRATES: And suppose a person were to come to Sophocles or Euripides +and say that he knows how to make a very long speech about a small +matter, and a short speech about a great matter, and also a sorrowful +speech, or a terrible, or threatening speech, or any other kind of +speech, and in teaching this fancies that he is teaching the art of +tragedy--? + +PHAEDRUS: They too would surely laugh at him if he fancies that tragedy +is anything but the arranging of these elements in a manner which will +be suitable to one another and to the whole. + +SOCRATES: But I do not suppose that they would be rude or abusive to +him: Would they not treat him as a musician a man who thinks that he is +a harmonist because he knows how to pitch the highest and lowest note; +happening to meet such an one he would not say to him savagely, 'Fool, +you are mad!' But like a musician, in a gentle and harmonious tone of +voice, he would answer: 'My good friend, he who would be a harmonist +must certainly know this, and yet he may understand nothing of harmony +if he has not got beyond your stage of knowledge, for you only know the +preliminaries of harmony and not harmony itself.' + +PHAEDRUS: Very true. + +SOCRATES: And will not Sophocles say to the display of the would-be +tragedian, that this is not tragedy but the preliminaries of tragedy? +and will not Acumenus say the same of medicine to the would-be +physician? + +PHAEDRUS: Quite true. + +SOCRATES: And if Adrastus the mellifluous or Pericles heard of these +wonderful arts, brachylogies and eikonologies and all the hard names +which we have been endeavouring to draw into the light of day, what +would they say? Instead of losing temper and applying uncomplimentary +epithets, as you and I have been doing, to the authors of such an +imaginary art, their superior wisdom would rather censure us, as well +as them. 'Have a little patience, Phaedrus and Socrates, they would say; +you should not be in such a passion with those who from some want of +dialectical skill are unable to define the nature of rhetoric, and +consequently suppose that they have found the art in the preliminary +conditions of it, and when these have been taught by them to others, +fancy that the whole art of rhetoric has been taught by them; but as +to using the several instruments of the art effectively, or making the +composition a whole,--an application of it such as this is they regard +as an easy thing which their disciples may make for themselves.' + +PHAEDRUS: I quite admit, Socrates, that the art of rhetoric which these +men teach and of which they write is such as you describe--there I +agree with you. But I still want to know where and how the true art of +rhetoric and persuasion is to be acquired. + +SOCRATES: The perfection which is required of the finished orator is, +or rather must be, like the perfection of anything else; partly given by +nature, but may also be assisted by art. If you have the natural power +and add to it knowledge and practice, you will be a distinguished +speaker; if you fall short in either of these, you will be to that +extent defective. But the art, as far as there is an art, of rhetoric +does not lie in the direction of Lysias or Thrasymachus. + +PHAEDRUS: In what direction then? + +SOCRATES: I conceive Pericles to have been the most accomplished of +rhetoricians. + +PHAEDRUS: What of that? + +SOCRATES: All the great arts require discussion and high speculation +about the truths of nature; hence come loftiness of thought and +completeness of execution. And this, as I conceive, was the quality +which, in addition to his natural gifts, Pericles acquired from his +intercourse with Anaxagoras whom he happened to know. He was thus imbued +with the higher philosophy, and attained the knowledge of Mind and the +negative of Mind, which were favourite themes of Anaxagoras, and applied +what suited his purpose to the art of speaking. + +PHAEDRUS: Explain. + +SOCRATES: Rhetoric is like medicine. + +PHAEDRUS: How so? + +SOCRATES: Why, because medicine has to define the nature of the body +and rhetoric of the soul--if we would proceed, not empirically but +scientifically, in the one case to impart health and strength by giving +medicine and food, in the other to implant the conviction or virtue +which you desire, by the right application of words and training. + +PHAEDRUS: There, Socrates, I suspect that you are right. + +SOCRATES: And do you think that you can know the nature of the soul +intelligently without knowing the nature of the whole? + +PHAEDRUS: Hippocrates the Asclepiad says that the nature even of the +body can only be understood as a whole. (Compare Charmides.) + +SOCRATES: Yes, friend, and he was right:--still, we ought not to be +content with the name of Hippocrates, but to examine and see whether his +argument agrees with his conception of nature. + +PHAEDRUS: I agree. + +SOCRATES: Then consider what truth as well as Hippocrates says about +this or about any other nature. Ought we not to consider first whether +that which we wish to learn and to teach is a simple or multiform thing, +and if simple, then to enquire what power it has of acting or being +acted upon in relation to other things, and if multiform, then to number +the forms; and see first in the case of one of them, and then in the +case of all of them, what is that power of acting or being acted upon +which makes each and all of them to be what they are? + +PHAEDRUS: You may very likely be right, Socrates. + +SOCRATES: The method which proceeds without analysis is like the groping +of a blind man. Yet, surely, he who is an artist ought not to admit of +a comparison with the blind, or deaf. The rhetorician, who teaches his +pupil to speak scientifically, will particularly set forth the nature of +that being to which he addresses his speeches; and this, I conceive, to +be the soul. + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: His whole effort is directed to the soul; for in that he seeks +to produce conviction. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes. + +SOCRATES: Then clearly, Thrasymachus or any one else who teaches +rhetoric in earnest will give an exact description of the nature of the +soul; which will enable us to see whether she be single and same, or, +like the body, multiform. That is what we should call showing the nature +of the soul. + +PHAEDRUS: Exactly. + +SOCRATES: He will explain, secondly, the mode in which she acts or is +acted upon. + +PHAEDRUS: True. + +SOCRATES: Thirdly, having classified men and speeches, and their kinds +and affections, and adapted them to one another, he will tell the +reasons of his arrangement, and show why one soul is persuaded by a +particular form of argument, and another not. + +PHAEDRUS: You have hit upon a very good way. + +SOCRATES: Yes, that is the true and only way in which any subject can +be set forth or treated by rules of art, whether in speaking or writing. +But the writers of the present day, at whose feet you have sat, craftily +conceal the nature of the soul which they know quite well. Nor, until +they adopt our method of reading and writing, can we admit that they +write by rules of art? + +PHAEDRUS: What is our method? + +SOCRATES: I cannot give you the exact details; but I should like to +tell you generally, as far as is in my power, how a man ought to proceed +according to rules of art. + +PHAEDRUS: Let me hear. + +SOCRATES: Oratory is the art of enchanting the soul, and therefore he +who would be an orator has to learn the differences of human souls--they +are so many and of such a nature, and from them come the differences +between man and man. Having proceeded thus far in his analysis, he +will next divide speeches into their different classes:--'Such and such +persons,' he will say, are affected by this or that kind of speech in +this or that way,' and he will tell you why. The pupil must have a good +theoretical notion of them first, and then he must have experience of +them in actual life, and be able to follow them with all his senses +about him, or he will never get beyond the precepts of his masters. But +when he understands what persons are persuaded by what arguments, and +sees the person about whom he was speaking in the abstract actually +before him, and knows that it is he, and can say to himself, 'This is +the man or this is the character who ought to have a certain argument +applied to him in order to convince him of a certain opinion;'--he who +knows all this, and knows also when he should speak and when he should +refrain, and when he should use pithy sayings, pathetic appeals, +sensational effects, and all the other modes of speech which he has +learned;--when, I say, he knows the times and seasons of all these +things, then, and not till then, he is a perfect master of his art; but +if he fail in any of these points, whether in speaking or teaching or +writing them, and yet declares that he speaks by rules of art, he who +says 'I don't believe you' has the better of him. Well, the teacher will +say, is this, Phaedrus and Socrates, your account of the so-called art +of rhetoric, or am I to look for another? + +PHAEDRUS: He must take this, Socrates, for there is no possibility of +another, and yet the creation of such an art is not easy. + +SOCRATES: Very true; and therefore let us consider this matter in every +light, and see whether we cannot find a shorter and easier road; there +is no use in taking a long rough roundabout way if there be a shorter +and easier one. And I wish that you would try and remember whether +you have heard from Lysias or any one else anything which might be of +service to us. + +PHAEDRUS: If trying would avail, then I might; but at the moment I can +think of nothing. + +SOCRATES: Suppose I tell you something which somebody who knows told me. + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: May not 'the wolf,' as the proverb says, 'claim a hearing'? + +PHAEDRUS: Do you say what can be said for him. + +SOCRATES: He will argue that there is no use in putting a solemn face +on these matters, or in going round and round, until you arrive at first +principles; for, as I said at first, when the question is of justice and +good, or is a question in which men are concerned who are just and good, +either by nature or habit, he who would be a skilful rhetorician has +no need of truth--for that in courts of law men literally care +nothing about truth, but only about conviction: and this is based on +probability, to which he who would be a skilful orator should therefore +give his whole attention. And they say also that there are cases in +which the actual facts, if they are improbable, ought to be withheld, +and only the probabilities should be told either in accusation or +defence, and that always in speaking, the orator should keep probability +in view, and say good-bye to the truth. And the observance of this +principle throughout a speech furnishes the whole art. + +PHAEDRUS: That is what the professors of rhetoric do actually say, +Socrates. I have not forgotten that we have quite briefly touched upon +this matter already; with them the point is all-important. + +SOCRATES: I dare say that you are familiar with Tisias. Does he not +define probability to be that which the many think? + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly, he does. + +SOCRATES: I believe that he has a clever and ingenious case of this +sort:--He supposes a feeble and valiant man to have assaulted a strong +and cowardly one, and to have robbed him of his coat or of something or +other; he is brought into court, and then Tisias says that both parties +should tell lies: the coward should say that he was assaulted by more +men than one; the other should prove that they were alone, and should +argue thus: 'How could a weak man like me have assaulted a strong man +like him?' The complainant will not like to confess his own cowardice, +and will therefore invent some other lie which his adversary will thus +gain an opportunity of refuting. And there are other devices of the same +kind which have a place in the system. Am I not right, Phaedrus? + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: Bless me, what a wonderfully mysterious art is this which +Tisias or some other gentleman, in whatever name or country he rejoices, +has discovered. Shall we say a word to him or not? + +PHAEDRUS: What shall we say to him? + +SOCRATES: Let us tell him that, before he appeared, you and I were +saying that the probability of which he speaks was engendered in the +minds of the many by the likeness of the truth, and we had just been +affirming that he who knew the truth would always know best how to +discover the resemblances of the truth. If he has anything else to say +about the art of speaking we should like to hear him; but if not, we +are satisfied with our own view, that unless a man estimates the various +characters of his hearers and is able to divide all things into classes +and to comprehend them under single ideas, he will never be a skilful +rhetorician even within the limits of human power. And this skill he +will not attain without a great deal of trouble, which a good man ought +to undergo, not for the sake of speaking and acting before men, but in +order that he may be able to say what is acceptable to God and always +to act acceptably to Him as far as in him lies; for there is a saying of +wiser men than ourselves, that a man of sense should not try to please +his fellow-servants (at least this should not be his first object) +but his good and noble masters; and therefore if the way is long and +circuitous, marvel not at this, for, where the end is great, there we +may take the longer road, but not for lesser ends such as yours. Truly, +the argument may say, Tisias, that if you do not mind going so far, +rhetoric has a fair beginning here. + +PHAEDRUS: I think, Socrates, that this is admirable, if only +practicable. + +SOCRATES: But even to fail in an honourable object is honourable. + +PHAEDRUS: True. + +SOCRATES: Enough appears to have been said by us of a true and false art +of speaking. + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: But there is something yet to be said of propriety and +impropriety of writing. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes. + +SOCRATES: Do you know how you can speak or act about rhetoric in a +manner which will be acceptable to God? + +PHAEDRUS: No, indeed. Do you? + +SOCRATES: I have heard a tradition of the ancients, whether true or not +they only know; although if we had found the truth ourselves, do you +think that we should care much about the opinions of men? + +PHAEDRUS: Your question needs no answer; but I wish that you would tell +me what you say that you have heard. + +SOCRATES: At the Egyptian city of Naucratis, there was a famous old god, +whose name was Theuth; the bird which is called the Ibis is sacred +to him, and he was the inventor of many arts, such as arithmetic and +calculation and geometry and astronomy and draughts and dice, but his +great discovery was the use of letters. Now in those days the god Thamus +was the king of the whole country of Egypt; and he dwelt in that great +city of Upper Egypt which the Hellenes call Egyptian Thebes, and the +god himself is called by them Ammon. To him came Theuth and showed his +inventions, desiring that the other Egyptians might be allowed to have +the benefit of them; he enumerated them, and Thamus enquired about +their several uses, and praised some of them and censured others, as he +approved or disapproved of them. It would take a long time to repeat all +that Thamus said to Theuth in praise or blame of the various arts. But +when they came to letters, This, said Theuth, will make the Egyptians +wiser and give them better memories; it is a specific both for the +memory and for the wit. Thamus replied: O most ingenious Theuth, the +parent or inventor of an art is not always the best judge of the utility +or inutility of his own inventions to the users of them. And in this +instance, you who are the father of letters, from a paternal love of +your own children have been led to attribute to them a quality which +they cannot have; for this discovery of yours will create forgetfulness +in the learners' souls, because they will not use their memories; +they will trust to the external written characters and not remember +of themselves. The specific which you have discovered is an aid not to +memory, but to reminiscence, and you give your disciples not truth, but +only the semblance of truth; they will be hearers of many things and +will have learned nothing; they will appear to be omniscient and will +generally know nothing; they will be tiresome company, having the show +of wisdom without the reality. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, Socrates, you can easily invent tales of Egypt, or of any +other country. + +SOCRATES: There was a tradition in the temple of Dodona that oaks first +gave prophetic utterances. The men of old, unlike in their simplicity to +young philosophy, deemed that if they heard the truth even from 'oak or +rock,' it was enough for them; whereas you seem to consider not whether +a thing is or is not true, but who the speaker is and from what country +the tale comes. + +PHAEDRUS: I acknowledge the justice of your rebuke; and I think that the +Theban is right in his view about letters. + +SOCRATES: He would be a very simple person, and quite a stranger to the +oracles of Thamus or Ammon, who should leave in writing or receive +in writing any art under the idea that the written word would be +intelligible or certain; or who deemed that writing was at all better +than knowledge and recollection of the same matters? + +PHAEDRUS: That is most true. + +SOCRATES: I cannot help feeling, Phaedrus, that writing is unfortunately +like painting; for the creations of the painter have the attitude of +life, and yet if you ask them a question they preserve a solemn silence. +And the same may be said of speeches. You would imagine that they had +intelligence, but if you want to know anything and put a question to one +of them, the speaker always gives one unvarying answer. And when they +have been once written down they are tumbled about anywhere among those +who may or may not understand them, and know not to whom they should +reply, to whom not: and, if they are maltreated or abused, they have no +parent to protect them; and they cannot protect or defend themselves. + +PHAEDRUS: That again is most true. + +SOCRATES: Is there not another kind of word or speech far better than +this, and having far greater power--a son of the same family, but +lawfully begotten? + +PHAEDRUS: Whom do you mean, and what is his origin? + +SOCRATES: I mean an intelligent word graven in the soul of the learner, +which can defend itself, and knows when to speak and when to be silent. + +PHAEDRUS: You mean the living word of knowledge which has a soul, and of +which the written word is properly no more than an image? + +SOCRATES: Yes, of course that is what I mean. And now may I be allowed +to ask you a question: Would a husbandman, who is a man of sense, take +the seeds, which he values and which he wishes to bear fruit, and in +sober seriousness plant them during the heat of summer, in some garden +of Adonis, that he may rejoice when he sees them in eight days appearing +in beauty? at least he would do so, if at all, only for the sake of +amusement and pastime. But when he is in earnest he sows in fitting +soil, and practises husbandry, and is satisfied if in eight months the +seeds which he has sown arrive at perfection? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, Socrates, that will be his way when he is in earnest; he +will do the other, as you say, only in play. + +SOCRATES: And can we suppose that he who knows the just and good and +honourable has less understanding, than the husbandman, about his own +seeds? + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly not. + +SOCRATES: Then he will not seriously incline to 'write' his thoughts +'in water' with pen and ink, sowing words which can neither speak for +themselves nor teach the truth adequately to others? + +PHAEDRUS: No, that is not likely. + +SOCRATES: No, that is not likely--in the garden of letters he will sow +and plant, but only for the sake of recreation and amusement; he will +write them down as memorials to be treasured against the forgetfulness +of old age, by himself, or by any other old man who is treading the same +path. He will rejoice in beholding their tender growth; and while others +are refreshing their souls with banqueting and the like, this will be +the pastime in which his days are spent. + +PHAEDRUS: A pastime, Socrates, as noble as the other is ignoble, the +pastime of a man who can be amused by serious talk, and can discourse +merrily about justice and the like. + +SOCRATES: True, Phaedrus. But nobler far is the serious pursuit of the +dialectician, who, finding a congenial soul, by the help of science sows +and plants therein words which are able to help themselves and him who +planted them, and are not unfruitful, but have in them a seed which +others brought up in different soils render immortal, making the +possessors of it happy to the utmost extent of human happiness. + +PHAEDRUS: Far nobler, certainly. + +SOCRATES: And now, Phaedrus, having agreed upon the premises we may +decide about the conclusion. + +PHAEDRUS: About what conclusion? + +SOCRATES: About Lysias, whom we censured, and his art of writing, and +his discourses, and the rhetorical skill or want of skill which was +shown in them--these are the questions which we sought to determine, and +they brought us to this point. And I think that we are now pretty well +informed about the nature of art and its opposite. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, I think with you; but I wish that you would repeat what +was said. + +SOCRATES: Until a man knows the truth of the several particulars of +which he is writing or speaking, and is able to define them as they are, +and having defined them again to divide them until they can be no longer +divided, and until in like manner he is able to discern the nature +of the soul, and discover the different modes of discourse which are +adapted to different natures, and to arrange and dispose them in such +a way that the simple form of speech may be addressed to the simpler +nature, and the complex and composite to the more complex nature--until +he has accomplished all this, he will be unable to handle arguments +according to rules of art, as far as their nature allows them to +be subjected to art, either for the purpose of teaching or +persuading;--such is the view which is implied in the whole preceding +argument. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, that was our view, certainly. + +SOCRATES: Secondly, as to the censure which was passed on the speaking +or writing of discourses, and how they might be rightly or wrongly +censured--did not our previous argument show--? + +PHAEDRUS: Show what? + +SOCRATES: That whether Lysias or any other writer that ever was or will +be, whether private man or statesman, proposes laws and so becomes +the author of a political treatise, fancying that there is any great +certainty and clearness in his performance, the fact of his so writing +is only a disgrace to him, whatever men may say. For not to know the +nature of justice and injustice, and good and evil, and not to be able +to distinguish the dream from the reality, cannot in truth be otherwise +than disgraceful to him, even though he have the applause of the whole +world. + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: But he who thinks that in the written word there is +necessarily much which is not serious, and that neither poetry +nor prose, spoken or written, is of any great value, if, like the +compositions of the rhapsodes, they are only recited in order to be +believed, and not with any view to criticism or instruction; and who +thinks that even the best of writings are but a reminiscence of what we +know, and that only in principles of justice and goodness and nobility +taught and communicated orally for the sake of instruction and graven +in the soul, which is the true way of writing, is there clearness and +perfection and seriousness, and that such principles are a man's own and +his legitimate offspring;--being, in the first place, the word which +he finds in his own bosom; secondly, the brethren and descendants and +relations of his idea which have been duly implanted by him in the souls +of others;--and who cares for them and no others--this is the right sort +of man; and you and I, Phaedrus, would pray that we may become like him. + +PHAEDRUS: That is most assuredly my desire and prayer. + +SOCRATES: And now the play is played out; and of rhetoric enough. Go and +tell Lysias that to the fountain and school of the Nymphs we went +down, and were bidden by them to convey a message to him and to other +composers of speeches--to Homer and other writers of poems, whether set +to music or not; and to Solon and others who have composed writings in +the form of political discourses which they would term laws--to all of +them we are to say that if their compositions are based on knowledge of +the truth, and they can defend or prove them, when they are put to the +test, by spoken arguments, which leave their writings poor in +comparison of them, then they are to be called, not only poets, orators, +legislators, but are worthy of a higher name, befitting the serious +pursuit of their life. + +PHAEDRUS: What name would you assign to them? + +SOCRATES: Wise, I may not call them; for that is a great name which +belongs to God alone,--lovers of wisdom or philosophers is their modest +and befitting title. + +PHAEDRUS: Very suitable. + +SOCRATES: And he who cannot rise above his own compilations and +compositions, which he has been long patching and piecing, adding some +and taking away some, may be justly called poet or speech-maker or +law-maker. + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: Now go and tell this to your companion. + +PHAEDRUS: But there is also a friend of yours who ought not to be +forgotten. + +SOCRATES: Who is he? + +PHAEDRUS: Isocrates the fair:--What message will you send to him, and +how shall we describe him? + +SOCRATES: Isocrates is still young, Phaedrus; but I am willing to hazard +a prophecy concerning him. + +PHAEDRUS: What would you prophesy? + +SOCRATES: I think that he has a genius which soars above the orations of +Lysias, and that his character is cast in a finer mould. My impression +of him is that he will marvellously improve as he grows older, and that +all former rhetoricians will be as children in comparison of him. And I +believe that he will not be satisfied with rhetoric, but that there is +in him a divine inspiration which will lead him to things higher still. +For he has an element of philosophy in his nature. This is the message +of the gods dwelling in this place, and which I will myself deliver to +Isocrates, who is my delight; and do you give the other to Lysias, who +is yours. + +PHAEDRUS: I will; and now as the heat is abated let us depart. + +SOCRATES: Should we not offer up a prayer first of all to the local +deities? + +PHAEDRUS: By all means. + +SOCRATES: Beloved Pan, and all ye other gods who haunt this place, give +me beauty in the inward soul; and may the outward and inward man be +at one. May I reckon the wise to be the wealthy, and may I have such +a quantity of gold as a temperate man and he only can bear and +carry.--Anything more? The prayer, I think, is enough for me. + +PHAEDRUS: Ask the same for me, for friends should have all things in +common. + +SOCRATES: Let us go. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Phaedrus, by Plato + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHAEDRUS *** + +***** This file should be named 1636.txt or 1636.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/3/1636/ + +Produced by Sue Asscher + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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The two Dialogues together contain +the whole philosophy of Plato on the nature of love, which in the Republic +and in the later writings of Plato is only introduced playfully or as a +figure of speech. But in the Phaedrus and Symposium love and philosophy +join hands, and one is an aspect of the other. The spiritual and emotional +part is elevated into the ideal, to which in the Symposium mankind are +described as looking forward, and which in the Phaedrus, as well as in the +Phaedo, they are seeking to recover from a former state of existence. +Whether the subject of the Dialogue is love or rhetoric, or the union of +the two, or the relation of philosophy to love and to art in general, and +to the human soul, will be hereafter considered. And perhaps we may arrive +at some conclusion such as the following--that the dialogue is not strictly +confined to a single subject, but passes from one to another with the +natural freedom of conversation. + +Phaedrus has been spending the morning with Lysias, the celebrated +rhetorician, and is going to refresh himself by taking a walk outside the +wall, when he is met by Socrates, who professes that he will not leave him +until he has delivered up the speech with which Lysias has regaled him, and +which he is carrying about in his mind, or more probably in a book hidden +under his cloak, and is intending to study as he walks. The imputation is +not denied, and the two agree to direct their steps out of the public way +along the stream of the Ilissus towards a plane-tree which is seen in the +distance. There, lying down amidst pleasant sounds and scents, they will +read the speech of Lysias. The country is a novelty to Socrates, who never +goes out of the town; and hence he is full of admiration for the beauties +of nature, which he seems to be drinking in for the first time. + +As they are on their way, Phaedrus asks the opinion of Socrates respecting +the local tradition of Boreas and Oreithyia. Socrates, after a satirical +allusion to the 'rationalizers' of his day, replies that he has no time for +these 'nice' interpretations of mythology, and he pities anyone who has. +When you once begin there is no end of them, and they spring from an +uncritical philosophy after all. 'The proper study of mankind is man;' and +he is a far more complex and wonderful being than the serpent Typho. +Socrates as yet does not know himself; and why should he care to know about +unearthly monsters? Engaged in such conversation, they arrive at the +plane-tree; when they have found a convenient resting-place, Phaedrus pulls +out the speech and reads:-- + +The speech consists of a foolish paradox which is to the effect that the +non-lover ought to be accepted rather than the lover--because he is more +rational, more agreeable, more enduring, less suspicious, less hurtful, +less boastful, less engrossing, and because there are more of them, and for +a great many other reasons which are equally unmeaning. Phaedrus is +captivated with the beauty of the periods, and wants to make Socrates say +that nothing was or ever could be written better. Socrates does not think +much of the matter, but then he has only attended to the form, and in that +he has detected several repetitions and other marks of haste. He cannot +agree with Phaedrus in the extreme value which he sets upon this +performance, because he is afraid of doing injustice to Anacreon and Sappho +and other great writers, and is almost inclined to think that he himself, +or rather some power residing within him, could make a speech better than +that of Lysias on the same theme, and also different from his, if he may be +allowed the use of a few commonplaces which all speakers must equally +employ. + +Phaedrus is delighted at the prospect of having another speech, and +promises that he will set up a golden statue of Socrates at Delphi, if he +keeps his word. Some raillery ensues, and at length Socrates, conquered by +the threat that he shall never again hear a speech of Lysias unless he +fulfils his promise, veils his face and begins. + +First, invoking the Muses and assuming ironically the person of the non- +lover (who is a lover all the same), he will enquire into the nature and +power of love. For this is a necessary preliminary to the other question-- +How is the non-lover to be distinguished from the lover? In all of us +there are two principles--a better and a worse--reason and desire, which +are generally at war with one another; and the victory of the rational is +called temperance, and the victory of the irrational intemperance or +excess. The latter takes many forms and has many bad names--gluttony, +drunkenness, and the like. But of all the irrational desires or excesses +the greatest is that which is led away by desires of a kindred nature to +the enjoyment of personal beauty. And this is the master power of love. + +Here Socrates fancies that he detects in himself an unusual flow of +eloquence--this newly-found gift he can only attribute to the inspiration +of the place, which appears to be dedicated to the nymphs. Starting again +from the philosophical basis which has been laid down, he proceeds to show +how many advantages the non-lover has over the lover. The one encourages +softness and effeminacy and exclusiveness; he cannot endure any superiority +in his beloved; he will train him in luxury, he will keep him out of +society, he will deprive him of parents, friends, money, knowledge, and of +every other good, that he may have him all to himself. Then again his ways +are not ways of pleasantness; he is mighty disagreeable; 'crabbed age and +youth cannot live together.' At every hour of the night and day he is +intruding upon him; there is the same old withered face and the remainder +to match--and he is always repeating, in season or out of season, the +praises or dispraises of his beloved, which are bad enough when he is +sober, and published all over the world when he is drunk. At length his +love ceases; he is converted into an enemy, and the spectacle may be seen +of the lover running away from the beloved, who pursues him with vain +reproaches, and demands his reward which the other refuses to pay. Too +late the beloved learns, after all his pains and disagreeables, that 'As +wolves love lambs so lovers love their loves.' (Compare Char.) Here is +the end; the 'other' or 'non-lover' part of the speech had better be +understood, for if in the censure of the lover Socrates has broken out in +verse, what will he not do in his praise of the non-lover? He has said his +say and is preparing to go away. + +Phaedrus begs him to remain, at any rate until the heat of noon has passed; +he would like to have a little more conversation before they go. Socrates, +who has risen, recognizes the oracular sign which forbids him to depart +until he has done penance. His conscious has been awakened, and like +Stesichorus when he had reviled the lovely Helen he will sing a palinode +for having blasphemed the majesty of love. His palinode takes the form of +a myth. + +Socrates begins his tale with a glorification of madness, which he divides +into four kinds: first, there is the art of divination or prophecy--this, +in a vein similar to that pervading the Cratylus and Io, he connects with +madness by an etymological explanation (mantike, manike--compare +oionoistike, oionistike, ''tis all one reckoning, save the phrase is a +little variations'); secondly, there is the art of purification by +mysteries; thirdly, poetry or the inspiration of the Muses (compare Ion), +without which no man can enter their temple. All this shows that madness +is one of heaven's blessings, and may sometimes be a great deal better than +sense. There is also a fourth kind of madness--that of love--which cannot +be explained without enquiring into the nature of the soul. + +All soul is immortal, for she is the source of all motion both in herself +and in others. Her form may be described in a figure as a composite nature +made up of a charioteer and a pair of winged steeds. The steeds of the +gods are immortal, but ours are one mortal and the other immortal. The +immortal soul soars upwards into the heavens, but the mortal drops her +plumes and settles upon the earth. + +Now the use of the wing is to rise and carry the downward element into the +upper world--there to behold beauty, wisdom, goodness, and the other things +of God by which the soul is nourished. On a certain day Zeus the lord of +heaven goes forth in a winged chariot; and an array of gods and demi-gods +and of human souls in their train, follows him. There are glorious and +blessed sights in the interior of heaven, and he who will may freely behold +them. The great vision of all is seen at the feast of the gods, when they +ascend the heights of the empyrean--all but Hestia, who is left at home to +keep house. The chariots of the gods glide readily upwards and stand upon +the outside; the revolution of the spheres carries them round, and they +have a vision of the world beyond. But the others labour in vain; for the +mortal steed, if he has not been properly trained, keeps them down and +sinks them towards the earth. Of the world which is beyond the heavens, +who can tell? There is an essence formless, colourless, intangible, +perceived by the mind only, dwelling in the region of true knowledge. The +divine mind in her revolution enjoys this fair prospect, and beholds +justice, temperance, and knowledge in their everlasting essence. When +fulfilled with the sight of them she returns home, and the charioteer puts +up the horses in their stable, and gives them ambrosia to eat and nectar to +drink. This is the life of the gods; the human soul tries to reach the +same heights, but hardly succeeds; and sometimes the head of the charioteer +rises above, and sometimes sinks below, the fair vision, and he is at last +obliged, after much contention, to turn away and leave the plain of truth. +But if the soul has followed in the train of her god and once beheld truth +she is preserved from harm, and is carried round in the next revolution of +the spheres; and if always following, and always seeing the truth, is then +for ever unharmed. If, however, she drops her wings and falls to the +earth, then she takes the form of man, and the soul which has seen most of +the truth passes into a philosopher or lover; that which has seen truth in +the second degree, into a king or warrior; the third, into a householder or +money-maker; the fourth, into a gymnast; the fifth, into a prophet or +mystic; the sixth, into a poet or imitator; the seventh, into a husbandman +or craftsman; the eighth, into a sophist or demagogue; the ninth, into a +tyrant. All these are states of probation, wherein he who lives +righteously is improved, and he who lives unrighteously deteriorates. +After death comes the judgment; the bad depart to houses of correction +under the earth, the good to places of joy in heaven. When a thousand +years have elapsed the souls meet together and choose the lives which they +will lead for another period of existence. The soul which three times in +succession has chosen the life of a philosopher or of a lover who is not +without philosophy receives her wings at the close of the third millennium; +the remainder have to complete a cycle of ten thousand years before their +wings are restored to them. Each time there is full liberty of choice. +The soul of a man may descend into a beast, and return again into the form +of man. But the form of man will only be taken by the soul which has once +seen truth and acquired some conception of the universal:--this is the +recollection of the knowledge which she attained when in the company of the +Gods. And men in general recall only with difficulty the things of another +world, but the mind of the philosopher has a better remembrance of them. +For when he beholds the visible beauty of earth his enraptured soul passes +in thought to those glorious sights of justice and wisdom and temperance +and truth which she once gazed upon in heaven. Then she celebrated holy +mysteries and beheld blessed apparitions shining in pure light, herself +pure, and not as yet entombed in the body. And still, like a bird eager to +quit its cage, she flutters and looks upwards, and is therefore deemed mad. +Such a recollection of past days she receives through sight, the keenest of +our senses, because beauty, alone of the ideas, has any representation on +earth: wisdom is invisible to mortal eyes. But the corrupted nature, +blindly excited by this vision of beauty, rushes on to enjoy, and would +fain wallow like a brute beast in sensual pleasures. Whereas the true +mystic, who has seen the many sights of bliss, when he beholds a god-like +form or face is amazed with delight, and if he were not afraid of being +thought mad he would fall down and worship. Then the stiffened wing begins +to relax and grow again; desire which has been imprisoned pours over the +soul of the lover; the germ of the wing unfolds, and stings, and pangs of +birth, like the cutting of teeth, are everywhere felt. (Compare Symp.) +Father and mother, and goods and laws and proprieties are nothing to him; +his beloved is his physician, who can alone cure his pain. An apocryphal +sacred writer says that the power which thus works in him is by mortals +called love, but the immortals call him dove, or the winged one, in order +to represent the force of his wings--such at any rate is his nature. Now +the characters of lovers depend upon the god whom they followed in the +other world; and they choose their loves in this world accordingly. The +followers of Ares are fierce and violent; those of Zeus seek out some +philosophical and imperial nature; the attendants of Here find a royal +love; and in like manner the followers of every god seek a love who is like +their god; and to him they communicate the nature which they have received +from their god. The manner in which they take their love is as follows:-- + +I told you about the charioteer and his two steeds, the one a noble animal +who is guided by word and admonition only, the other an ill-looking villain +who will hardly yield to blow or spur. Together all three, who are a +figure of the soul, approach the vision of love. And now a fierce conflict +begins. The ill-conditioned steed rushes on to enjoy, but the charioteer, +who beholds the beloved with awe, falls back in adoration, and forces both +the steeds on their haunches; again the evil steed rushes forwards and +pulls shamelessly. The conflict grows more and more severe; and at last +the charioteer, throwing himself backwards, forces the bit out of the +clenched teeth of the brute, and pulling harder than ever at the reins, +covers his tongue and jaws with blood, and forces him to rest his legs and +haunches with pain upon the ground. When this has happened several times, +the villain is tamed and humbled, and from that time forward the soul of +the lover follows the beloved in modesty and holy fear. And now their +bliss is consummated; the same image of love dwells in the breast of +either, and if they have self-control, they pass their lives in the +greatest happiness which is attainable by man--they continue masters of +themselves, and conquer in one of the three heavenly victories. But if +they choose the lower life of ambition they may still have a happy destiny, +though inferior, because they have not the approval of the whole soul. At +last they leave the body and proceed on their pilgrim's progress, and those +who have once begun can never go back. When the time comes they receive +their wings and fly away, and the lovers have the same wings. + +Socrates concludes:-- + +These are the blessings of love, and thus have I made my recantation in +finer language than before: I did so in order to please Phaedrus. If I +said what was wrong at first, please to attribute my error to Lysias, who +ought to study philosophy instead of rhetoric, and then he will not mislead +his disciple Phaedrus. + +Phaedrus is afraid that he will lose conceit of Lysias, and that Lysias +will be out of conceit with himself, and leave off making speeches, for the +politicians have been deriding him. Socrates is of opinion that there is +small danger of this; the politicians are themselves the great rhetoricians +of the age, who desire to attain immortality by the authorship of laws. +And therefore there is nothing with which they can reproach Lysias in being +a writer; but there may be disgrace in being a bad one. + +And what is good or bad writing or speaking? While the sun is hot in the +sky above us, let us ask that question: since by rational conversation man +lives, and not by the indulgence of bodily pleasures. And the grasshoppers +who are chirruping around may carry our words to the Muses, who are their +patronesses; for the grasshoppers were human beings themselves in a world +before the Muses, and when the Muses came they died of hunger for the love +of song. And they carry to them in heaven the report of those who honour +them on earth. + +The first rule of good speaking is to know and speak the truth; as a +Spartan proverb says, 'true art is truth'; whereas rhetoric is an art of +enchantment, which makes things appear good and evil, like and unlike, as +the speaker pleases. Its use is not confined, as people commonly suppose, +to arguments in the law courts and speeches in the assembly; it is rather a +part of the art of disputation, under which are included both the rules of +Gorgias and the eristic of Zeno. But it is not wholly devoid of truth. +Superior knowledge enables us to deceive another by the help of +resemblances, and to escape from such a deception when employed against +ourselves. We see therefore that even in rhetoric an element of truth is +required. For if we do not know the truth, we can neither make the gradual +departures from truth by which men are most easily deceived, nor guard +ourselves against deception. + +Socrates then proposes that they shall use the two speeches as +illustrations of the art of rhetoric; first distinguishing between the +debatable and undisputed class of subjects. In the debatable class there +ought to be a definition of all disputed matters. But there was no such +definition in the speech of Lysias; nor is there any order or connection in +his words any more than in a nursery rhyme. With this he compares the +regular divisions of the other speech, which was his own (and yet not his +own, for the local deities must have inspired him). Although only a +playful composition, it will be found to embody two principles: first, that +of synthesis or the comprehension of parts in a whole; secondly, analysis, +or the resolution of the whole into parts. These are the processes of +division and generalization which are so dear to the dialectician, that +king of men. They are effected by dialectic, and not by rhetoric, of which +the remains are but scanty after order and arrangement have been +subtracted. There is nothing left but a heap of 'ologies' and other +technical terms invented by Polus, Theodorus, Evenus, Tisias, Gorgias, and +others, who have rules for everything, and who teach how to be short or +long at pleasure. Prodicus showed his good sense when he said that there +was a better thing than either to be short or long, which was to be of +convenient length. + +Still, notwithstanding the absurdities of Polus and others, rhetoric has +great power in public assemblies. This power, however, is not given by any +technical rules, but is the gift of genius. The real art is always being +confused by rhetoricians with the preliminaries of the art. The perfection +of oratory is like the perfection of anything else; natural power must be +aided by art. But the art is not that which is taught in the schools of +rhetoric; it is nearer akin to philosophy. Pericles, for instance, who was +the most accomplished of all speakers, derived his eloquence not from +rhetoric but from the philosophy of nature which he learnt of Anaxagoras. +True rhetoric is like medicine, and the rhetorician has to consider the +natures of men's souls as the physician considers the natures of their +bodies. Such and such persons are to be affected in this way, such and +such others in that; and he must know the times and the seasons for saying +this or that. This is not an easy task, and this, if there be such an art, +is the art of rhetoric. + +I know that there are some professors of the art who maintain probability +to be stronger than truth. But we maintain that probability is engendered +by likeness of the truth which can only be attained by the knowledge of it, +and that the aim of the good man should not be to please or persuade his +fellow-servants, but to please his good masters who are the gods. Rhetoric +has a fair beginning in this. + +Enough of the art of speaking; let us now proceed to consider the true use +of writing. There is an old Egyptian tale of Theuth, the inventor of +writing, showing his invention to the god Thamus, who told him that he +would only spoil men's memories and take away their understandings. From +this tale, of which young Athens will probably make fun, may be gathered +the lesson that writing is inferior to speech. For it is like a picture, +which can give no answer to a question, and has only a deceitful likeness +of a living creature. It has no power of adaptation, but uses the same +words for all. It is not a legitimate son of knowledge, but a bastard, and +when an attack is made upon this bastard neither parent nor anyone else is +there to defend it. The husbandman will not seriously incline to sow his +seed in such a hot-bed or garden of Adonis; he will rather sow in the +natural soil of the human soul which has depth of earth; and he will +anticipate the inner growth of the mind, by writing only, if at all, as a +remedy against old age. The natural process will be far nobler, and will +bring forth fruit in the minds of others as well as in his own. + +The conclusion of the whole matter is just this,--that until a man knows +the truth, and the manner of adapting the truth to the natures of other +men, he cannot be a good orator; also, that the living is better than the +written word, and that the principles of justice and truth when delivered +by word of mouth are the legitimate offspring of a man's own bosom, and +their lawful descendants take up their abode in others. Such an orator as +he is who is possessed of them, you and I would fain become. And to all +composers in the world, poets, orators, legislators, we hereby announce +that if their compositions are based upon these principles, then they are +not only poets, orators, legislators, but philosophers. All others are +mere flatterers and putters together of words. This is the message which +Phaedrus undertakes to carry to Lysias from the local deities, and Socrates +himself will carry a similar message to his favourite Isocrates, whose +future distinction as a great rhetorician he prophesies. The heat of the +day has passed, and after offering up a prayer to Pan and the nymphs, +Socrates and Phaedrus depart. + +There are two principal controversies which have been raised about the +Phaedrus; the first relates to the subject, the second to the date of the +Dialogue. + +There seems to be a notion that the work of a great artist like Plato +cannot fail in unity, and that the unity of a dialogue requires a single +subject. But the conception of unity really applies in very different +degrees and ways to different kinds of art; to a statue, for example, far +more than to any kind of literary composition, and to some species of +literature far more than to others. Nor does the dialogue appear to be a +style of composition in which the requirement of unity is most stringent; +nor should the idea of unity derived from one sort of art be hastily +transferred to another. The double titles of several of the Platonic +Dialogues are a further proof that the severer rule was not observed by +Plato. The Republic is divided between the search after justice and the +construction of the ideal state; the Parmenides between the criticism of +the Platonic ideas and of the Eleatic one or being; the Gorgias between the +art of speaking and the nature of the good; the Sophist between the +detection of the Sophist and the correlation of ideas. The Theaetetus, the +Politicus, and the Philebus have also digressions which are but remotely +connected with the main subject. + +Thus the comparison of Plato's other writings, as well as the reason of the +thing, lead us to the conclusion that we must not expect to find one idea +pervading a whole work, but one, two, or more, as the invention of the +writer may suggest, or his fancy wander. If each dialogue were confined to +the development of a single idea, this would appear on the face of the +dialogue, nor could any controversy be raised as to whether the Phaedrus +treated of love or rhetoric. But the truth is that Plato subjects himself +to no rule of this sort. Like every great artist he gives unity of form to +the different and apparently distracting topics which he brings together. +He works freely and is not to be supposed to have arranged every part of +the dialogue before he begins to write. He fastens or weaves together the +frame of his discourse loosely and imperfectly, and which is the warp and +which is the woof cannot always be determined. + +The subjects of the Phaedrus (exclusive of the short introductory passage +about mythology which is suggested by the local tradition) are first the +false or conventional art of rhetoric; secondly, love or the inspiration of +beauty and knowledge, which is described as madness; thirdly, dialectic or +the art of composition and division; fourthly, the true rhetoric, which is +based upon dialectic, and is neither the art of persuasion nor knowledge of +the truth alone, but the art of persuasion founded on knowledge of truth +and knowledge of character; fifthly, the superiority of the spoken over the +written word. The continuous thread which appears and reappears throughout +is rhetoric; this is the ground into which the rest of the Dialogue is +worked, in parts embroidered with fine words which are not in Socrates' +manner, as he says, 'in order to please Phaedrus.' The speech of Lysias +which has thrown Phaedrus into an ecstacy is adduced as an example of the +false rhetoric; the first speech of Socrates, though an improvement, +partakes of the same character; his second speech, which is full of that +higher element said to have been learned of Anaxagoras by Pericles, and +which in the midst of poetry does not forget order, is an illustration of +the higher or true rhetoric. This higher rhetoric is based upon dialectic, +and dialectic is a sort of inspiration akin to love (compare Symp.); in +these two aspects of philosophy the technicalities of rhetoric are +absorbed. And so the example becomes also the deeper theme of discourse. +The true knowledge of things in heaven and earth is based upon enthusiasm +or love of the ideas going before us and ever present to us in this world +and in another; and the true order of speech or writing proceeds +accordingly. Love, again, has three degrees: first, of interested love +corresponding to the conventionalities of rhetoric; secondly, of +disinterested or mad love, fixed on objects of sense, and answering, +perhaps, to poetry; thirdly, of disinterested love directed towards the +unseen, answering to dialectic or the science of the ideas. Lastly, the +art of rhetoric in the lower sense is found to rest on a knowledge of the +natures and characters of men, which Socrates at the commencement of the +Dialogue has described as his own peculiar study. + +Thus amid discord a harmony begins to appear; there are many links of +connection which are not visible at first sight. At the same time the +Phaedrus, although one of the most beautiful of the Platonic Dialogues, is +also more irregular than any other. For insight into the world, for +sustained irony, for depth of thought, there is no Dialogue superior, or +perhaps equal to it. Nevertheless the form of the work has tended to +obscure some of Plato's higher aims. + +The first speech is composed 'in that balanced style in which the wise love +to talk' (Symp.). The characteristics of rhetoric are insipidity, +mannerism, and monotonous parallelism of clauses. There is more rhythm +than reason; the creative power of imagination is wanting. + +''Tis Greece, but living Greece no more.' + +Plato has seized by anticipation the spirit which hung over Greek +literature for a thousand years afterwards. Yet doubtless there were some +who, like Phaedrus, felt a delight in the harmonious cadence and the +pedantic reasoning of the rhetoricians newly imported from Sicily, which +had ceased to be awakened in them by really great works, such as the odes +of Anacreon or Sappho or the orations of Pericles. That the first speech +was really written by Lysias is improbable. Like the poem of Solon, or the +story of Thamus and Theuth, or the funeral oration of Aspasia (if genuine), +or the pretence of Socrates in the Cratylus that his knowledge of philology +is derived from Euthyphro, the invention is really due to the imagination +of Plato, and may be compared to the parodies of the Sophists in the +Protagoras. Numerous fictions of this sort occur in the Dialogues, and the +gravity of Plato has sometimes imposed upon his commentators. The +introduction of a considerable writing of another would seem not to be in +keeping with a great work of art, and has no parallel elsewhere. + +In the second speech Socrates is exhibited as beating the rhetoricians at +their own weapons; he 'an unpractised man and they masters of the art.' +True to his character, he must, however, profess that the speech which he +makes is not his own, for he knows nothing of himself. (Compare Symp.) +Regarded as a rhetorical exercise, the superiority of his speech seems to +consist chiefly in a better arrangement of the topics; he begins with a +definition of love, and he gives weight to his words by going back to +general maxims; a lesser merit is the greater liveliness of Socrates, which +hurries him into verse and relieves the monotony of the style. + +But Plato had doubtless a higher purpose than to exhibit Socrates as the +rival or superior of the Athenian rhetoricians. Even in the speech of +Lysias there is a germ of truth, and this is further developed in the +parallel oration of Socrates. First, passionate love is overthrown by the +sophistical or interested, and then both yield to that higher view of love +which is afterwards revealed to us. The extreme of commonplace is +contrasted with the most ideal and imaginative of speculations. Socrates, +half in jest and to satisfy his own wild humour, takes the disguise of +Lysias, but he is also in profound earnest and in a deeper vein of irony +than usual. Having improvised his own speech, which is based upon the +model of the preceding, he condemns them both. Yet the condemnation is not +to be taken seriously, for he is evidently trying to express an aspect of +the truth. To understand him, we must make abstraction of morality and of +the Greek manner of regarding the relation of the sexes. In this, as in +his other discussions about love, what Plato says of the loves of men must +be transferred to the loves of women before we can attach any serious +meaning to his words. Had he lived in our times he would have made the +transposition himself. But seeing in his own age the impossibility of +woman being the intellectual helpmate or friend of man (except in the rare +instances of a Diotima or an Aspasia), seeing that, even as to personal +beauty, her place was taken by young mankind instead of womankind, he tries +to work out the problem of love without regard to the distinctions of +nature. And full of the evils which he recognized as flowing from the +spurious form of love, he proceeds with a deep meaning, though partly in +joke, to show that the 'non-lover's' love is better than the 'lover's.' + +We may raise the same question in another form: Is marriage preferable +with or without love? 'Among ourselves,' as we may say, a little parodying +the words of Pausanias in the Symposium, 'there would be one answer to this +question: the practice and feeling of some foreign countries appears to be +more doubtful.' Suppose a modern Socrates, in defiance of the received +notions of society and the sentimental literature of the day, alone against +all the writers and readers of novels, to suggest this enquiry, would not +the younger 'part of the world be ready to take off its coat and run at him +might and main?' (Republic.) Yet, if like Peisthetaerus in Aristophanes, +he could persuade the 'birds' to hear him, retiring a little behind a +rampart, not of pots and dishes, but of unreadable books, he might have +something to say for himself. Might he not argue, 'that a rational being +should not follow the dictates of passion in the most important act of his +or her life'? Who would willingly enter into a contract at first sight, +almost without thought, against the advice and opinion of his friends, at a +time when he acknowledges that he is not in his right mind? And yet they +are praised by the authors of romances, who reject the warnings of their +friends or parents, rather than those who listen to them in such matters. +Two inexperienced persons, ignorant of the world and of one another, how +can they be said to choose?--they draw lots, whence also the saying, +'marriage is a lottery.' Then he would describe their way of life after +marriage; how they monopolize one another's affections to the exclusion of +friends and relations: how they pass their days in unmeaning fondness or +trivial conversation; how the inferior of the two drags the other down to +his or her level; how the cares of a family 'breed meanness in their +souls.' In the fulfilment of military or public duties, they are not +helpers but hinderers of one another: they cannot undertake any noble +enterprise, such as makes the names of men and women famous, from domestic +considerations. Too late their eyes are opened; they were taken unawares +and desire to part company. Better, he would say, a 'little love at the +beginning,' for heaven might have increased it; but now their foolish +fondness has changed into mutual dislike. In the days of their honeymoon +they never understood that they must provide against offences, that they +must have interests, that they must learn the art of living as well as +loving. Our misogamist will not appeal to Anacreon or Sappho for a +confirmation of his view, but to the universal experience of mankind. How +much nobler, in conclusion, he will say, is friendship, which does not +receive unmeaning praises from novelists and poets, is not exacting or +exclusive, is not impaired by familiarity, is much less expensive, is not +so likely to take offence, seldom changes, and may be dissolved from time +to time without the assistance of the courts. Besides, he will remark that +there is a much greater choice of friends than of wives--you may have more +of them and they will be far more improving to your mind. They will not +keep you dawdling at home, or dancing attendance upon them; or withdraw you +from the great world and stirring scenes of life and action which would +make a man of you. + +In such a manner, turning the seamy side outwards, a modern Socrates might +describe the evils of married and domestic life. They are evils which +mankind in general have agreed to conceal, partly because they are +compensated by greater goods. Socrates or Archilochus would soon have to +sing a palinode for the injustice done to lovely Helen, or some misfortune +worse than blindness might be fall them. Then they would take up their +parable again and say:--that there were two loves, a higher and a lower, +holy and unholy, a love of the mind and a love of the body. + +'Let me not to the marriage of true minds +Admit impediments. Love is not love +Which alters when it alteration finds. + +... + +Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks +Within his bending sickle's compass come; +Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, +But bears it out even to the edge of doom.' + +But this true love of the mind cannot exist between two souls, until they +are purified from the grossness of earthly passion: they must pass through +a time of trial and conflict first; in the language of religion they must +be converted or born again. Then they would see the world transformed into +a scene of heavenly beauty; a divine idea would accompany them in all their +thoughts and actions. Something too of the recollections of childhood +might float about them still; they might regain that old simplicity which +had been theirs in other days at their first entrance on life. And +although their love of one another was ever present to them, they would +acknowledge also a higher love of duty and of God, which united them. And +their happiness would depend upon their preserving in them this principle-- +not losing the ideals of justice and holiness and truth, but renewing them +at the fountain of light. When they have attained to this exalted state, +let them marry (something too may be conceded to the animal nature of man): +or live together in holy and innocent friendship. The poet might describe +in eloquent words the nature of such a union; how after many struggles the +true love was found: how the two passed their lives together in the +service of God and man; how their characters were reflected upon one +another, and seemed to grow more like year by year; how they read in one +another's eyes the thoughts, wishes, actions of the other; how they saw +each other in God; how in a figure they grew wings like doves, and were +'ready to fly away together and be at rest.' And lastly, he might tell +how, after a time at no long intervals, first one and then the other fell +asleep, and 'appeared to the unwise' to die, but were reunited in another +state of being, in which they saw justice and holiness and truth, not +according to the imperfect copies of them which are found in this world, +but justice absolute in existence absolute, and so of the rest. And they +would hold converse not only with each other, but with blessed souls +everywhere; and would be employed in the service of God, every soul +fulfilling his own nature and character, and would see into the wonders of +earth and heaven, and trace the works of creation to their author. + +So, partly in jest but also 'with a certain degree of seriousness,' we may +appropriate to ourselves the words of Plato. The use of such a parody, +though very imperfect, is to transfer his thoughts to our sphere of +religion and feeling, to bring him nearer to us and us to him. Like the +Scriptures, Plato admits of endless applications, if we allow for the +difference of times and manners; and we lose the better half of him when we +regard his Dialogues merely as literary compositions. Any ancient work +which is worth reading has a practical and speculative as well as a +literary interest. And in Plato, more than in any other Greek writer, the +local and transitory is inextricably blended with what is spiritual and +eternal. Socrates is necessarily ironical; for he has to withdraw from the +received opinions and beliefs of mankind. We cannot separate the +transitory from the permanent; nor can we translate the language of irony +into that of plain reflection and common sense. But we can imagine the +mind of Socrates in another age and country; and we can interpret him by +analogy with reference to the errors and prejudices which prevail among +ourselves. To return to the Phaedrus:-- + +Both speeches are strongly condemned by Socrates as sinful and blasphemous +towards the god Love, and as worthy only of some haunt of sailors to which +good manners were unknown. The meaning of this and other wild language to +the same effect, which is introduced by way of contrast to the formality of +the two speeches (Socrates has a sense of relief when he has escaped from +the trammels of rhetoric), seems to be that the two speeches proceed upon +the supposition that love is and ought to be interested, and that no such +thing as a real or disinterested passion, which would be at the same time +lasting, could be conceived. 'But did I call this "love"? O God, forgive +my blasphemy. This is not love. Rather it is the love of the world. But +there is another kingdom of love, a kingdom not of this world, divine, +eternal. And this other love I will now show you in a mystery.' + +Then follows the famous myth, which is a sort of parable, and like other +parables ought not to receive too minute an interpretation. In all such +allegories there is a great deal which is merely ornamental, and the +interpreter has to separate the important from the unimportant. Socrates +himself has given the right clue when, in using his own discourse +afterwards as the text for his examination of rhetoric, he characterizes it +as a 'partly true and tolerably credible mythus,' in which amid poetical +figures, order and arrangement were not forgotten. + +The soul is described in magnificent language as the self-moved and the +source of motion in all other things. This is the philosophical theme or +proem of the whole. But ideas must be given through something, and under +the pretext that to realize the true nature of the soul would be not only +tedious but impossible, we at once pass on to describe the souls of gods as +well as men under the figure of two winged steeds and a charioteer. No +connection is traced between the soul as the great motive power and the +triple soul which is thus imaged. There is no difficulty in seeing that +the charioteer represents the reason, or that the black horse is the symbol +of the sensual or concupiscent element of human nature. The white horse +also represents rational impulse, but the description, 'a lover of honour +and modesty and temperance, and a follower of true glory,' though similar, +does not at once recall the 'spirit' (thumos) of the Republic. The two +steeds really correspond in a figure more nearly to the appetitive and +moral or semi-rational soul of Aristotle. And thus, for the first time +perhaps in the history of philosophy, we have represented to us the +threefold division of psychology. The image of the charioteer and the +steeds has been compared with a similar image which occurs in the verses of +Parmenides; but it is important to remark that the horses of Parmenides +have no allegorical meaning, and that the poet is only describing his own +approach in a chariot to the regions of light and the house of the goddess +of truth. + +The triple soul has had a previous existence, in which following in the +train of some god, from whom she derived her character, she beheld +partially and imperfectly the vision of absolute truth. All her after +existence, passed in many forms of men and animals, is spent in regaining +this. The stages of the conflict are many and various; and she is sorely +let and hindered by the animal desires of the inferior or concupiscent +steed. Again and again she beholds the flashing beauty of the beloved. +But before that vision can be finally enjoyed the animal desires must be +subjected. + +The moral or spiritual element in man is represented by the immortal steed +which, like thumos in the Republic, always sides with the reason. Both are +dragged out of their course by the furious impulses of desire. In the end +something is conceded to the desires, after they have been finally humbled +and overpowered. And yet the way of philosophy, or perfect love of the +unseen, is total abstinence from bodily delights. 'But all men cannot +receive this saying': in the lower life of ambition they may be taken off +their guard and stoop to folly unawares, and then, although they do not +attain to the highest bliss, yet if they have once conquered they may be +happy enough. + +The language of the Meno and the Phaedo as well as of the Phaedrus seems to +show that at one time of his life Plato was quite serious in maintaining a +former state of existence. His mission was to realize the abstract; in +that, all good and truth, all the hopes of this and another life seemed to +centre. To him abstractions, as we call them, were another kind of +knowledge--an inner and unseen world, which seemed to exist far more truly +than the fleeting objects of sense which were without him. When we are +once able to imagine the intense power which abstract ideas exercised over +the mind of Plato, we see that there was no more difficulty to him in +realizing the eternal existence of them and of the human minds which were +associated with them, in the past and future than in the present. The +difficulty was not how they could exist, but how they could fail to exist. +In the attempt to regain this 'saving' knowledge of the ideas, the sense +was found to be as great an enemy as the desires; and hence two things +which to us seem quite distinct are inextricably blended in the +representation of Plato. + +Thus far we may believe that Plato was serious in his conception of the +soul as a motive power, in his reminiscence of a former state of being, in +his elevation of the reason over sense and passion, and perhaps in his +doctrine of transmigration. Was he equally serious in the rest? For +example, are we to attribute his tripartite division of the soul to the +gods? Or is this merely assigned to them by way of parallelism with men? +The latter is the more probable; for the horses of the gods are both white, +i.e. their every impulse is in harmony with reason; their dualism, on the +other hand, only carries out the figure of the chariot. Is he serious, +again, in regarding love as 'a madness'? That seems to arise out of the +antithesis to the former conception of love. At the same time he appears +to intimate here, as in the Ion, Apology, Meno, and elsewhere, that there +is a faculty in man, whether to be termed in modern language genius, or +inspiration, or imagination, or idealism, or communion with God, which +cannot be reduced to rule and measure. Perhaps, too, he is ironically +repeating the common language of mankind about philosophy, and is turning +their jest into a sort of earnest. (Compare Phaedo, Symp.) Or is he +serious in holding that each soul bears the character of a god? He may +have had no other account to give of the differences of human characters to +which he afterwards refers. Or, again, in his absurd derivation of mantike +and oionistike and imeros (compare Cratylus)? It is characteristic of the +irony of Socrates to mix up sense and nonsense in such a way that no exact +line can be drawn between them. And allegory helps to increase this sort +of confusion. + +As is often the case in the parables and prophecies of Scripture, the +meaning is allowed to break through the figure, and the details are not +always consistent. When the charioteers and their steeds stand upon the +dome of heaven they behold the intangible invisible essences which are not +objects of sight. This is because the force of language can no further go. +Nor can we dwell much on the circumstance, that at the completion of ten +thousand years all are to return to the place from whence they came; +because he represents their return as dependent on their own good conduct +in the successive stages of existence. Nor again can we attribute anything +to the accidental inference which would also follow, that even a tyrant may +live righteously in the condition of life to which fate has called him ('he +aiblins might, I dinna ken'). But to suppose this would be at variance +with Plato himself and with Greek notions generally. He is much more +serious in distinguishing men from animals by their recognition of the +universal which they have known in a former state, and in denying that this +gift of reason can ever be obliterated or lost. In the language of some +modern theologians he might be said to maintain the 'final perseverance' of +those who have entered on their pilgrim's progress. Other intimations of a +'metaphysic' or 'theology' of the future may also be discerned in him: (1) +The moderate predestinarianism which here, as in the Republic, acknowledges +the element of chance in human life, and yet asserts the freedom and +responsibility of man; (2) The recognition of a moral as well as an +intellectual principle in man under the image of an immortal steed; (3) The +notion that the divine nature exists by the contemplation of ideas of +virtue and justice--or, in other words, the assertion of the essentially +moral nature of God; (4) Again, there is the hint that human life is a life +of aspiration only, and that the true ideal is not to be found in art; (5) +There occurs the first trace of the distinction between necessary and +contingent matter; (6) The conception of the soul itself as the motive +power and reason of the universe. + +The conception of the philosopher, or the philosopher and lover in one, as +a sort of madman, may be compared with the Republic and Theaetetus, in both +of which the philosopher is regarded as a stranger and monster upon the +earth. The whole myth, like the other myths of Plato, describes in a +figure things which are beyond the range of human faculties, or +inaccessible to the knowledge of the age. That philosophy should be +represented as the inspiration of love is a conception that has already +become familiar to us in the Symposium, and is the expression partly of +Plato's enthusiasm for the idea, and is also an indication of the real +power exercised by the passion of friendship over the mind of the Greek. +The master in the art of love knew that there was a mystery in these +feelings and their associations, and especially in the contrast of the +sensible and permanent which is afforded by them; and he sought to explain +this, as he explained universal ideas, by a reference to a former state of +existence. The capriciousness of love is also derived by him from an +attachment to some god in a former world. The singular remark that the +beloved is more affected than the lover at the final consummation of their +love, seems likewise to hint at a psychological truth. + +It is difficult to exhaust the meanings of a work like the Phaedrus, which +indicates so much more than it expresses; and is full of inconsistencies +and ambiguities which were not perceived by Plato himself. For example, +when he is speaking of the soul does he mean the human or the divine soul? +and are they both equally self-moving and constructed on the same threefold +principle? We should certainly be disposed to reply that the self-motive +is to be attributed to God only; and on the other hand that the appetitive +and passionate elements have no place in His nature. So we should infer +from the reason of the thing, but there is no indication in Plato's own +writings that this was his meaning. Or, again, when he explains the +different characters of men by referring them back to the nature of the God +whom they served in a former state of existence, we are inclined to ask +whether he is serious: Is he not rather using a mythological figure, here +as elsewhere, to draw a veil over things which are beyond the limits of +mortal knowledge? Once more, in speaking of beauty is he really thinking +of some external form such as might have been expressed in the works of +Phidias or Praxiteles; and not rather of an imaginary beauty, of a sort +which extinguishes rather than stimulates vulgar love,--a heavenly beauty +like that which flashed from time to time before the eyes of Dante or +Bunyan? Surely the latter. But it would be idle to reconcile all the +details of the passage: it is a picture, not a system, and a picture which +is for the greater part an allegory, and an allegory which allows the +meaning to come through. The image of the charioteer and his steeds is +placed side by side with the absolute forms of justice, temperance, and the +like, which are abstract ideas only, and which are seen with the eye of the +soul in her heavenly journey. The first impression of such a passage, in +which no attempt is made to separate the substance from the form, is far +truer than an elaborate philosophical analysis. + +It is too often forgotten that the whole of the second discourse of +Socrates is only an allegory, or figure of speech. For this reason, it is +unnecessary to enquire whether the love of which Plato speaks is the love +of men or of women. It is really a general idea which includes both, and +in which the sensual element, though not wholly eradicated, is reduced to +order and measure. We must not attribute a meaning to every fanciful +detail. Nor is there any need to call up revolting associations, which as +a matter of good taste should be banished, and which were far enough away +from the mind of Plato. These and similar passages should be interpreted +by the Laws. Nor is there anything in the Symposium, or in the Charmides, +in reality inconsistent with the sterner rule which Plato lays down in the +Laws. At the same time it is not to be denied that love and philosophy are +described by Socrates in figures of speech which would not be used in +Christian times; or that nameless vices were prevalent at Athens and in +other Greek cities; or that friendships between men were a more sacred tie, +and had a more important social and educational influence than among +ourselves. (See note on Symposium.) + +In the Phaedrus, as well as in the Symposium, there are two kinds of love, +a lower and a higher, the one answering to the natural wants of the animal, +the other rising above them and contemplating with religious awe the forms +of justice, temperance, holiness, yet finding them also 'too dazzling +bright for mortal eye,' and shrinking from them in amazement. The +opposition between these two kinds of love may be compared to the +opposition between the flesh and the spirit in the Epistles of St. Paul. +It would be unmeaning to suppose that Plato, in describing the spiritual +combat, in which the rational soul is finally victor and master of both the +steeds, condescends to allow any indulgence of unnatural lusts. + +Two other thoughts about love are suggested by this passage. First of all, +love is represented here, as in the Symposium, as one of the great powers +of nature, which takes many forms and two principal ones, having a +predominant influence over the lives of men. And these two, though +opposed, are not absolutely separated the one from the other. Plato, with +his great knowledge of human nature, was well aware how easily one is +transformed into the other, or how soon the noble but fleeting aspiration +may return into the nature of the animal, while the lower instinct which is +latent always remains. The intermediate sentimentalism, which has +exercised so great an influence on the literature of modern Europe, had no +place in the classical times of Hellas; the higher love, of which Plato +speaks, is the subject, not of poetry or fiction, but of philosophy. + +Secondly, there seems to be indicated a natural yearning of the human mind +that the great ideas of justice, temperance, wisdom, should be expressed in +some form of visible beauty, like the absolute purity and goodness which +Christian art has sought to realize in the person of the Madonna. But +although human nature has often attempted to represent outwardly what can +be only 'spiritually discerned,' men feel that in pictures and images, +whether painted or carved, or described in words only, we have not the +substance but the shadow of the truth which is in heaven. There is no +reason to suppose that in the fairest works of Greek art, Plato ever +conceived himself to behold an image, however faint, of ideal truths. 'Not +in that way was wisdom seen.' + +We may now pass on to the second part of the Dialogue, which is a criticism +on the first. Rhetoric is assailed on various grounds: first, as desiring +to persuade, without a knowledge of the truth; and secondly, as ignoring +the distinction between certain and probable matter. The three speeches +are then passed in review: the first of them has no definition of the +nature of love, and no order in the topics (being in these respects far +inferior to the second); while the third of them is found (though a fancy +of the hour) to be framed upon real dialectical principles. But dialectic +is not rhetoric; nothing on that subject is to be found in the endless +treatises of rhetoric, however prolific in hard names. When Plato has +sufficiently put them to the test of ridicule he touches, as with the point +of a needle, the real error, which is the confusion of preliminary +knowledge with creative power. No attainments will provide the speaker +with genius; and the sort of attainments which can alone be of any value +are the higher philosophy and the power of psychological analysis, which is +given by dialectic, but not by the rules of the rhetoricians. + +In this latter portion of the Dialogue there are many texts which may help +us to speak and to think. The names dialectic and rhetoric are passing out +of use; we hardly examine seriously into their nature and limits, and +probably the arts both of speaking and of conversation have been unduly +neglected by us. But the mind of Socrates pierces through the differences +of times and countries into the essential nature of man; and his words +apply equally to the modern world and to the Athenians of old. Would he +not have asked of us, or rather is he not asking of us, Whether we have +ceased to prefer appearances to reality? Let us take a survey of the +professions to which he refers and try them by his standard. Is not all +literature passing into criticism, just as Athenian literature in the age +of Plato was degenerating into sophistry and rhetoric? We can discourse +and write about poems and paintings, but we seem to have lost the gift of +creating them. Can we wonder that few of them 'come sweetly from nature,' +while ten thousand reviewers (mala murioi) are engaged in dissecting them? +Young men, like Phaedrus, are enamoured of their own literary clique and +have but a feeble sympathy with the master-minds of former ages. They +recognize 'a POETICAL necessity in the writings of their favourite author, +even when he boldly wrote off just what came in his head.' They are +beginning to think that Art is enough, just at the time when Art is about +to disappear from the world. And would not a great painter, such as +Michael Angelo, or a great poet, such as Shakespeare, returning to earth, +'courteously rebuke' us--would he not say that we are putting 'in the place +of Art the preliminaries of Art,' confusing Art the expression of mind and +truth with Art the composition of colours and forms; and perhaps he might +more severely chastise some of us for trying to invent 'a new shudder' +instead of bringing to the birth living and healthy creations? These he +would regard as the signs of an age wanting in original power. + +Turning from literature and the arts to law and politics, again we fall +under the lash of Socrates. For do we not often make 'the worse appear the +better cause;' and do not 'both parties sometimes agree to tell lies'? Is +not pleading 'an art of speaking unconnected with the truth'? There is +another text of Socrates which must not be forgotten in relation to this +subject. In the endless maze of English law is there any 'dividing the +whole into parts or reuniting the parts into a whole'--any semblance of an +organized being 'having hands and feet and other members'? Instead of a +system there is the Chaos of Anaxagoras (omou panta chremata) and no Mind +or Order. Then again in the noble art of politics, who thinks of first +principles and of true ideas? We avowedly follow not the truth but the +will of the many (compare Republic). Is not legislation too a sort of +literary effort, and might not statesmanship be described as the 'art of +enchanting' the house? While there are some politicians who have no +knowledge of the truth, but only of what is likely to be approved by 'the +many who sit in judgment,' there are others who can give no form to their +ideal, neither having learned 'the art of persuasion,' nor having any +insight into the 'characters of men.' Once more, has not medical science +become a professional routine, which many 'practise without being able to +say who were their instructors'--the application of a few drugs taken from +a book instead of a life-long study of the natures and constitutions of +human beings? Do we see as clearly as Hippocrates 'that the nature of the +body can only be understood as a whole'? (Compare Charm.) And are not +they held to be the wisest physicians who have the greatest distrust of +their art? What would Socrates think of our newspapers, of our theology? +Perhaps he would be afraid to speak of them;--the one vox populi, the other +vox Dei, he might hesitate to attack them; or he might trace a fanciful +connexion between them, and ask doubtfully, whether they are not equally +inspired? He would remark that we are always searching for a belief and +deploring our unbelief, seeming to prefer popular opinions unverified and +contradictory to unpopular truths which are assured to us by the most +certain proofs: that our preachers are in the habit of praising God +'without regard to truth and falsehood, attributing to Him every species of +greatness and glory, saying that He is all this and the cause of all that, +in order that we may exhibit Him as the fairest and best of all' (Symp.) +without any consideration of His real nature and character or of the laws +by which He governs the world--seeking for a 'private judgment' and not for +the truth or 'God's judgment.' What would he say of the Church, which we +praise in like manner, 'meaning ourselves,' without regard to history or +experience? Might he not ask, whether we 'care more for the truth of +religion, or for the speaker and the country from which the truth comes'? +or, whether the 'select wise' are not 'the many' after all? (Symp.) So we +may fill up the sketch of Socrates, lest, as Phaedrus says, the argument +should be too 'abstract and barren of illustrations.' (Compare Symp., +Apol., Euthyphro.) + +He next proceeds with enthusiasm to define the royal art of dialectic as +the power of dividing a whole into parts, and of uniting the parts in a +whole, and which may also be regarded (compare Soph.) as the process of the +mind talking with herself. The latter view has probably led Plato to the +paradox that speech is superior to writing, in which he may seem also to be +doing an injustice to himself. For the two cannot be fairly compared in +the manner which Plato suggests. The contrast of the living and dead word, +and the example of Socrates, which he has represented in the form of the +Dialogue, seem to have misled him. For speech and writing have really +different functions; the one is more transitory, more diffuse, more elastic +and capable of adaptation to moods and times; the other is more permanent, +more concentrated, and is uttered not to this or that person or audience, +but to all the world. In the Politicus the paradox is carried further; the +mind or will of the king is preferred to the written law; he is supposed to +be the Law personified, the ideal made Life. + +Yet in both these statements there is also contained a truth; they may be +compared with one another, and also with the other famous paradox, that +'knowledge cannot be taught.' Socrates means to say, that what is truly +written is written in the soul, just as what is truly taught grows up in +the soul from within and is not forced upon it from without. When planted +in a congenial soil the little seed becomes a tree, and 'the birds of the +air build their nests in the branches.' There is an echo of this in the +prayer at the end of the Dialogue, 'Give me beauty in the inward soul, and +may the inward and outward man be at one.' We may further compare the +words of St. Paul, 'Written not on tables of stone, but on fleshly tables +of the heart;' and again, 'Ye are my epistles known and read of all men.' +There may be a use in writing as a preservative against the forgetfulness +of old age, but to live is higher far, to be ourselves the book, or the +epistle, the truth embodied in a person, the Word made flesh. Something +like this we may believe to have passed before Plato's mind when he +affirmed that speech was superior to writing. So in other ages, weary of +literature and criticism, of making many books, of writing articles in +reviews, some have desired to live more closely in communion with their +fellow-men, to speak heart to heart, to speak and act only, and not to +write, following the example of Socrates and of Christ... + +Some other touches of inimitable grace and art and of the deepest wisdom +may be also noted; such as the prayer or 'collect' which has just been +cited, 'Give me beauty,' etc.; or 'the great name which belongs to God +alone;' or 'the saying of wiser men than ourselves that a man of sense +should try to please not his fellow-servants, but his good and noble +masters,' like St. Paul again; or the description of the 'heavenly +originals'... + +The chief criteria for determining the date of the Dialogue are (1) the +ages of Lysias and Isocrates; (2) the character of the work. + +Lysias was born in the year 458; Isocrates in the year 436, about seven +years before the birth of Plato. The first of the two great rhetoricians +is described as in the zenith of his fame; the second is still young and +full of promise. Now it is argued that this must have been written in the +youth of Isocrates, when the promise was not yet fulfilled. And thus we +should have to assign the Dialogue to a year not later than 406, when +Isocrates was thirty and Plato twenty-three years of age, and while +Socrates himself was still alive. + +Those who argue in this way seem not to reflect how easily Plato can +'invent Egyptians or anything else,' and how careless he is of historical +truth or probability. Who would suspect that the wise Critias, the +virtuous Charmides, had ended their lives among the thirty tyrants? Who +would imagine that Lysias, who is here assailed by Socrates, is the son of +his old friend Cephalus? Or that Isocrates himself is the enemy of Plato +and his school? No arguments can be drawn from the appropriateness or +inappropriateness of the characters of Plato. (Else, perhaps, it might be +further argued that, judging from their extant remains, insipid rhetoric is +far more characteristic of Isocrates than of Lysias.) But Plato makes use +of names which have often hardly any connection with the historical +characters to whom they belong. In this instance the comparative favour +shown to Isocrates may possibly be accounted for by the circumstance of his +belonging to the aristocratical, as Lysias to the democratical party. + +Few persons will be inclined to suppose, in the superficial manner of some +ancient critics, that a dialogue which treats of love must necessarily have +been written in youth. As little weight can be attached to the argument +that Plato must have visited Egypt before he wrote the story of Theuth and +Thamus. For there is no real proof that he ever went to Egypt; and even if +he did, he might have known or invented Egyptian traditions before he went +there. The late date of the Phaedrus will have to be established by other +arguments than these: the maturity of the thought, the perfection of the +style, the insight, the relation to the other Platonic Dialogues, seem to +contradict the notion that it could have been the work of a youth of twenty +or twenty-three years of age. The cosmological notion of the mind as the +primum mobile, and the admission of impulse into the immortal nature, also +afford grounds for assigning a later date. (Compare Tim., Soph., Laws.) +Add to this that the picture of Socrates, though in some lesser +particulars,--e.g. his going without sandals, his habit of remaining within +the walls, his emphatic declaration that his study is human nature,--an +exact resemblance, is in the main the Platonic and not the real Socrates. +Can we suppose 'the young man to have told such lies' about his master +while he was still alive? Moreover, when two Dialogues are so closely +connected as the Phaedrus and Symposium, there is great improbability in +supposing that one of them was written at least twenty years after the +other. The conclusion seems to be, that the Dialogue was written at some +comparatively late but unknown period of Plato's life, after he had +deserted the purely Socratic point of view, but before he had entered on +the more abstract speculations of the Sophist or the Philebus. Taking into +account the divisions of the soul, the doctrine of transmigration, the +contemplative nature of the philosophic life, and the character of the +style, we shall not be far wrong in placing the Phaedrus in the +neighbourhood of the Republic; remarking only that allowance must be made +for the poetical element in the Phaedrus, which, while falling short of the +Republic in definite philosophic results, seems to have glimpses of a truth +beyond. + +Two short passages, which are unconnected with the main subject of the +Dialogue, may seem to merit a more particular notice: (1) the locus +classicus about mythology; (2) the tale of the grasshoppers. + +The first passage is remarkable as showing that Plato was entirely free +from what may be termed the Euhemerism of his age. For there were +Euhemerists in Hellas long before Euhemerus. Early philosophers, like +Anaxagoras and Metrodorus, had found in Homer and mythology hidden +meanings. Plato, with a truer instinct, rejects these attractive +interpretations; he regards the inventor of them as 'unfortunate;' and they +draw a man off from the knowledge of himself. There is a latent criticism, +and also a poetical sense in Plato, which enable him to discard them, and +yet in another way to make use of poetry and mythology as a vehicle of +thought and feeling. What would he have said of the discovery of Christian +doctrines in these old Greek legends? While acknowledging that such +interpretations are 'very nice,' would he not have remarked that they are +found in all sacred literatures? They cannot be tested by any criterion of +truth, or used to establish any truth; they add nothing to the sum of human +knowledge; they are--what we please, and if employed as 'peacemakers' +between the new and old are liable to serious misconstruction, as he +elsewhere remarks (Republic). And therefore he would have 'bid Farewell to +them; the study of them would take up too much of his time; and he has not +as yet learned the true nature of religion.' The 'sophistical' interest of +Phaedrus, the little touch about the two versions of the story, the +ironical manner in which these explanations are set aside--'the common +opinion about them is enough for me'--the allusion to the serpent Typho may +be noted in passing; also the general agreement between the tone of this +speech and the remark of Socrates which follows afterwards, 'I am a +diviner, but a poor one.' + +The tale of the grasshoppers is naturally suggested by the surrounding +scene. They are also the representatives of the Athenians as children of +the soil. Under the image of the lively chirruping grasshoppers who inform +the Muses in heaven about those who honour them on earth, Plato intends to +represent an Athenian audience (tettigessin eoikotes). The story is +introduced, apparently, to mark a change of subject, and also, like several +other allusions which occur in the course of the Dialogue, in order to +preserve the scene in the recollection of the reader. + +... + +No one can duly appreciate the dialogues of Plato, especially the Phaedrus, +Symposium, and portions of the Republic, who has not a sympathy with +mysticism. To the uninitiated, as he would himself have acknowledged, they +will appear to be the dreams of a poet who is disguised as a philosopher. +There is a twofold difficulty in apprehending this aspect of the Platonic +writings. First, we do not immediately realize that under the marble +exterior of Greek literature was concealed a soul thrilling with spiritual +emotion. Secondly, the forms or figures which the Platonic philosophy +assumes, are not like the images of the prophet Isaiah, or of the +Apocalypse, familiar to us in the days of our youth. By mysticism we mean, +not the extravagance of an erring fancy, but the concentration of reason in +feeling, the enthusiastic love of the good, the true, the one, the sense of +the infinity of knowledge and of the marvel of the human faculties. When +feeding upon such thoughts the 'wing of the soul' is renewed and gains +strength; she is raised above 'the manikins of earth' and their opinions, +waiting in wonder to know, and working with reverence to find out what God +in this or in another life may reveal to her. + +ON THE DECLINE OF GREEK LITERATURE. + +One of the main purposes of Plato in the Phaedrus is to satirize Rhetoric, +or rather the Professors of Rhetoric who swarmed at Athens in the fourth +century before Christ. As in the opening of the Dialogue he ridicules the +interpreters of mythology; as in the Protagoras he mocks at the Sophists; +as in the Euthydemus he makes fun of the word-splitting Eristics; as in the +Cratylus he ridicules the fancies of Etymologers; as in the Meno and +Gorgias and some other dialogues he makes reflections and casts sly +imputation upon the higher classes at Athens; so in the Phaedrus, chiefly +in the latter part, he aims his shafts at the rhetoricians. The profession +of rhetoric was the greatest and most popular in Athens, necessary 'to a +man's salvation,' or at any rate to his attainment of wealth or power; but +Plato finds nothing wholesome or genuine in the purpose of it. It is a +veritable 'sham,' having no relation to fact, or to truth of any kind. It +is antipathetic to him not only as a philosopher, but also as a great +writer. He cannot abide the tricks of the rhetoricians, or the pedantries +and mannerisms which they introduce into speech and writing. He sees +clearly how far removed they are from the ways of simplicity and truth, and +how ignorant of the very elements of the art which they are professing to +teach. The thing which is most necessary of all, the knowledge of human +nature, is hardly if at all considered by them. The true rules of +composition, which are very few, are not to be found in their voluminous +systems. Their pretentiousness, their omniscience, their large fortunes, +their impatience of argument, their indifference to first principles, their +stupidity, their progresses through Hellas accompanied by a troop of their +disciples--these things were very distasteful to Plato, who esteemed genius +far above art, and was quite sensible of the interval which separated them +(Phaedrus). It is the interval which separates Sophists and rhetoricians +from ancient famous men and women such as Homer and Hesiod, Anacreon and +Sappho, Aeschylus and Sophocles; and the Platonic Socrates is afraid that, +if he approves the former, he will be disowned by the latter. The spirit +of rhetoric was soon to overspread all Hellas; and Plato with prophetic +insight may have seen, from afar, the great literary waste or dead level, +or interminable marsh, in which Greek literature was soon to disappear. A +similar vision of the decline of the Greek drama and of the contrast of the +old literature and the new was present to the mind of Aristophanes after +the death of the three great tragedians (Frogs). After about a hundred, or +at most two hundred years if we exclude Homer, the genius of Hellas had +ceased to flower or blossom. The dreary waste which follows, beginning +with the Alexandrian writers and even before them in the platitudes of +Isocrates and his school, spreads over much more than a thousand years. +And from this decline the Greek language and literature, unlike the Latin, +which has come to life in new forms and been developed into the great +European languages, never recovered. + +This monotony of literature, without merit, without genius and without +character, is a phenomenon which deserves more attention than it has +hitherto received; it is a phenomenon unique in the literary history of the +world. How could there have been so much cultivation, so much diligence in +writing, and so little mind or real creative power? Why did a thousand +years invent nothing better than Sibylline books, Orphic poems, Byzantine +imitations of classical histories, Christian reproductions of Greek plays, +novels like the silly and obscene romances of Longus and Heliodorus, +innumerable forged epistles, a great many epigrams, biographies of the +meanest and most meagre description, a sham philosophy which was the +bastard progeny of the union between Hellas and the East? Only in +Plutarch, in Lucian, in Longinus, in the Roman emperors Marcus Aurelius and +Julian, in some of the Christian fathers are there any traces of good sense +or originality, or any power of arousing the interest of later ages. And +when new books ceased to be written, why did hosts of grammarians and +interpreters flock in, who never attain to any sound notion either of +grammar or interpretation? Why did the physical sciences never arrive at +any true knowledge or make any real progress? Why did poetry droop and +languish? Why did history degenerate into fable? Why did words lose their +power of expression? Why were ages of external greatness and magnificence +attended by all the signs of decay in the human mind which are possible? + +To these questions many answers may be given, which if not the true causes, +are at least to be reckoned among the symptoms of the decline. There is +the want of method in physical science, the want of criticism in history, +the want of simplicity or delicacy in poetry, the want of political +freedom, which is the true atmosphere of public speaking, in oratory. The +ways of life were luxurious and commonplace. Philosophy had become +extravagant, eclectic, abstract, devoid of any real content. At length it +ceased to exist. It had spread words like plaster over the whole field of +knowledge. It had grown ascetic on one side, mystical on the other. +Neither of these tendencies was favourable to literature. There was no +sense of beauty either in language or in art. The Greek world became +vacant, barbaric, oriental. No one had anything new to say, or any +conviction of truth. The age had no remembrance of the past, no power of +understanding what other ages thought and felt. The Catholic faith had +degenerated into dogma and controversy. For more than a thousand years not +a single writer of first-rate, or even of second-rate, reputation has a +place in the innumerable rolls of Greek literature. + +If we seek to go deeper, we can still only describe the outward nature of +the clouds or darkness which were spread over the heavens during so many +ages without relief or light. We may say that this, like several other +long periods in the history of the human race, was destitute, or deprived +of the moral qualities which are the root of literary excellence. It had +no life or aspiration, no national or political force, no desire for +consistency, no love of knowledge for its own sake. It did not attempt to +pierce the mists which surrounded it. It did not propose to itself to go +forward and scale the heights of knowledge, but to go backwards and seek at +the beginning what can only be found towards the end. It was lost in doubt +and ignorance. It rested upon tradition and authority. It had none of the +higher play of fancy which creates poetry; and where there is no true +poetry, neither can there be any good prose. It had no great characters, +and therefore it had no great writers. It was incapable of distinguishing +between words and things. It was so hopelessly below the ancient standard +of classical Greek art and literature that it had no power of understanding +or of valuing them. It is doubtful whether any Greek author was justly +appreciated in antiquity except by his own contemporaries; and this neglect +of the great authors of the past led to the disappearance of the larger +part of them, while the Greek fathers were mostly preserved. There is no +reason to suppose that, in the century before the taking of Constantinople, +much more was in existence than the scholars of the Renaissance carried +away with them to Italy. + +The character of Greek literature sank lower as time went on. It consisted +more and more of compilations, of scholia, of extracts, of commentaries, +forgeries, imitations. The commentator or interpreter had no conception of +his author as a whole, and very little of the context of any passage which +he was explaining. The least things were preferred by him to the greatest. +The question of a reading, or a grammatical form, or an accent, or the uses +of a word, took the place of the aim or subject of the book. He had no +sense of the beauties of an author, and very little light is thrown by him +on real difficulties. He interprets past ages by his own. The greatest +classical writers are the least appreciated by him. This seems to be the +reason why so many of them have perished, why the lyric poets have almost +wholly disappeared; why, out of the eighty or ninety tragedies of Aeschylus +and Sophocles, only seven of each had been preserved. + +Such an age of sciolism and scholasticism may possibly once more get the +better of the literary world. There are those who prophesy that the signs +of such a day are again appearing among us, and that at the end of the +present century no writer of the first class will be still alive. They +think that the Muse of Literature may transfer herself to other countries +less dried up or worn out than our own. They seem to see the withering +effect of criticism on original genius. No one can doubt that such a decay +or decline of literature and of art seriously affects the manners and +character of a nation. It takes away half the joys and refinements of +life; it increases its dulness and grossness. Hence it becomes a matter of +great interest to consider how, if at all, such a degeneracy may be +averted. Is there any elixir which can restore life and youth to the +literature of a nation, or at any rate which can prevent it becoming +unmanned and enfeebled? + +First there is the progress of education. It is possible, and even +probable, that the extension of the means of knowledge over a wider area +and to persons living under new conditions may lead to many new +combinations of thought and language. But, as yet, experience does not +favour the realization of such a hope or promise. It may be truly answered +that at present the training of teachers and the methods of education are +very imperfect, and therefore that we cannot judge of the future by the +present. When more of our youth are trained in the best literatures, and +in the best parts of them, their minds may be expected to have a larger +growth. They will have more interests, more thoughts, more material for +conversation; they will have a higher standard and begin to think for +themselves. The number of persons who will have the opportunity of +receiving the highest education through the cheap press, and by the help of +high schools and colleges, may increase tenfold. It is likely that in +every thousand persons there is at least one who is far above the average +in natural capacity, but the seed which is in him dies for want of +cultivation. It has never had any stimulus to grow, or any field in which +to blossom and produce fruit. Here is a great reservoir or treasure-house +of human intelligence out of which new waters may flow and cover the earth. +If at any time the great men of the world should die out, and originality +or genius appear to suffer a partial eclipse, there is a boundless hope in +the multitude of intelligences for future generations. They may bring +gifts to men such as the world has never received before. They may begin +at a higher point and yet take with them all the results of the past. The +co-operation of many may have effects not less striking, though different +in character from those which the creative genius of a single man, such as +Bacon or Newton, formerly produced. There is also great hope to be +derived, not merely from the extension of education over a wider area, but +from the continuance of it during many generations. Educated parents will +have children fit to receive education; and these again will grow up under +circumstances far more favourable to the growth of intelligence than any +which have hitherto existed in our own or in former ages. + +Even if we were to suppose no more men of genius to be produced, the great +writers of ancient or of modern times will remain to furnish abundant +materials of education to the coming generation. Now that every nation +holds communication with every other, we may truly say in a fuller sense +than formerly that 'the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the +suns.' They will not be 'cribbed, cabined, and confined' within a province +or an island. The East will provide elements of culture to the West as +well as the West to the East. The religions and literatures of the world +will be open books, which he who wills may read. The human race may not be +always ground down by bodily toil, but may have greater leisure for the +improvement of the mind. The increasing sense of the greatness and +infinity of nature will tend to awaken in men larger and more liberal +thoughts. The love of mankind may be the source of a greater development +of literature than nationality has ever been. There may be a greater +freedom from prejudice and party; we may better understand the whereabouts +of truth, and therefore there may be more success and fewer failures in the +search for it. Lastly, in the coming ages we shall carry with us the +recollection of the past, in which are necessarily contained many seeds of +revival and renaissance in the future. So far is the world from becoming +exhausted, so groundless is the fear that literature will ever die out. + + +PHAEDRUS + +by + +Plato + +Translated by Benjamin Jowett + + +PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: Socrates, Phaedrus. + +SCENE: Under a plane-tree, by the banks of the Ilissus. + + +SOCRATES: My dear Phaedrus, whence come you, and whither are you going? + +PHAEDRUS: I come from Lysias the son of Cephalus, and I am going to take a +walk outside the wall, for I have been sitting with him the whole morning; +and our common friend Acumenus tells me that it is much more refreshing to +walk in the open air than to be shut up in a cloister. + +SOCRATES: There he is right. Lysias then, I suppose, was in the town? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, he was staying with Epicrates, here at the house of +Morychus; that house which is near the temple of Olympian Zeus. + +SOCRATES: And how did he entertain you? Can I be wrong in supposing that +Lysias gave you a feast of discourse? + +PHAEDRUS: You shall hear, if you can spare time to accompany me. + +SOCRATES: And should I not deem the conversation of you and Lysias 'a +thing of higher import,' as I may say in the words of Pindar, 'than any +business'? + +PHAEDRUS: Will you go on? + +SOCRATES: And will you go on with the narration? + +PHAEDRUS: My tale, Socrates, is one of your sort, for love was the theme +which occupied us--love after a fashion: Lysias has been writing about a +fair youth who was being tempted, but not by a lover; and this was the +point: he ingeniously proved that the non-lover should be accepted rather +than the lover. + +SOCRATES: O that is noble of him! I wish that he would say the poor man +rather than the rich, and the old man rather than the young one;--then he +would meet the case of me and of many a man; his words would be quite +refreshing, and he would be a public benefactor. For my part, I do so long +to hear his speech, that if you walk all the way to Megara, and when you +have reached the wall come back, as Herodicus recommends, without going in, +I will keep you company. + +PHAEDRUS: What do you mean, my good Socrates? How can you imagine that my +unpractised memory can do justice to an elaborate work, which the greatest +rhetorician of the age spent a long time in composing. Indeed, I cannot; I +would give a great deal if I could. + +SOCRATES: I believe that I know Phaedrus about as well as I know myself, +and I am very sure that the speech of Lysias was repeated to him, not once +only, but again and again;--he insisted on hearing it many times over and +Lysias was very willing to gratify him; at last, when nothing else would +do, he got hold of the book, and looked at what he most wanted to see,-- +this occupied him during the whole morning;--and then when he was tired +with sitting, he went out to take a walk, not until, by the dog, as I +believe, he had simply learned by heart the entire discourse, unless it was +unusually long, and he went to a place outside the wall that he might +practise his lesson. There he saw a certain lover of discourse who had a +similar weakness;--he saw and rejoiced; now thought he, 'I shall have a +partner in my revels.' And he invited him to come and walk with him. But +when the lover of discourse begged that he would repeat the tale, he gave +himself airs and said, 'No I cannot,' as if he were indisposed; although, +if the hearer had refused, he would sooner or later have been compelled by +him to listen whether he would or no. Therefore, Phaedrus, bid him do at +once what he will soon do whether bidden or not. + +PHAEDRUS: I see that you will not let me off until I speak in some fashion +or other; verily therefore my best plan is to speak as I best can. + +SOCRATES: A very true remark, that of yours. + +PHAEDRUS: I will do as I say; but believe me, Socrates, I did not learn +the very words--O no; nevertheless I have a general notion of what he said, +and will give you a summary of the points in which the lover differed from +the non-lover. Let me begin at the beginning. + +SOCRATES: Yes, my sweet one; but you must first of all show what you have +in your left hand under your cloak, for that roll, as I suspect, is the +actual discourse. Now, much as I love you, I would not have you suppose +that I am going to have your memory exercised at my expense, if you have +Lysias himself here. + +PHAEDRUS: Enough; I see that I have no hope of practising my art upon you. +But if I am to read, where would you please to sit? + +SOCRATES: Let us turn aside and go by the Ilissus; we will sit down at +some quiet spot. + +PHAEDRUS: I am fortunate in not having my sandals, and as you never have +any, I think that we may go along the brook and cool our feet in the water; +this will be the easiest way, and at midday and in the summer is far from +being unpleasant. + +SOCRATES: Lead on, and look out for a place in which we can sit down. + +PHAEDRUS: Do you see the tallest plane-tree in the distance? + +SOCRATES: Yes. + +PHAEDRUS: There are shade and gentle breezes, and grass on which we may +either sit or lie down. + +SOCRATES: Move forward. + +PHAEDRUS: I should like to know, Socrates, whether the place is not +somewhere here at which Boreas is said to have carried off Orithyia from +the banks of the Ilissus? + +SOCRATES: Such is the tradition. + +PHAEDRUS: And is this the exact spot? The little stream is delightfully +clear and bright; I can fancy that there might be maidens playing near. + +SOCRATES: I believe that the spot is not exactly here, but about a quarter +of a mile lower down, where you cross to the temple of Artemis, and there +is, I think, some sort of an altar of Boreas at the place. + +PHAEDRUS: I have never noticed it; but I beseech you to tell me, Socrates, +do you believe this tale? + +SOCRATES: The wise are doubtful, and I should not be singular if, like +them, I too doubted. I might have a rational explanation that Orithyia was +playing with Pharmacia, when a northern gust carried her over the +neighbouring rocks; and this being the manner of her death, she was said to +have been carried away by Boreas. There is a discrepancy, however, about +the locality; according to another version of the story she was taken from +Areopagus, and not from this place. Now I quite acknowledge that these +allegories are very nice, but he is not to be envied who has to invent +them; much labour and ingenuity will be required of him; and when he has +once begun, he must go on and rehabilitate Hippocentaurs and chimeras dire. +Gorgons and winged steeds flow in apace, and numberless other inconceivable +and portentous natures. And if he is sceptical about them, and would fain +reduce them one after another to the rules of probability, this sort of +crude philosophy will take up a great deal of time. Now I have no leisure +for such enquiries; shall I tell you why? I must first know myself, as the +Delphian inscription says; to be curious about that which is not my +concern, while I am still in ignorance of my own self, would be ridiculous. +And therefore I bid farewell to all this; the common opinion is enough for +me. For, as I was saying, I want to know not about this, but about myself: +am I a monster more complicated and swollen with passion than the serpent +Typho, or a creature of a gentler and simpler sort, to whom Nature has +given a diviner and lowlier destiny? But let me ask you, friend: have we +not reached the plane-tree to which you were conducting us? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, this is the tree. + +SOCRATES: By Here, a fair resting-place, full of summer sounds and scents. +Here is this lofty and spreading plane-tree, and the agnus castus high and +clustering, in the fullest blossom and the greatest fragrance; and the +stream which flows beneath the plane-tree is deliciously cold to the feet. +Judging from the ornaments and images, this must be a spot sacred to +Achelous and the Nymphs. How delightful is the breeze:--so very sweet; and +there is a sound in the air shrill and summerlike which makes answer to the +chorus of the cicadae. But the greatest charm of all is the grass, like a +pillow gently sloping to the head. My dear Phaedrus, you have been an +admirable guide. + +PHAEDRUS: What an incomprehensible being you are, Socrates: when you are +in the country, as you say, you really are like some stranger who is led +about by a guide. Do you ever cross the border? I rather think that you +never venture even outside the gates. + +SOCRATES: Very true, my good friend; and I hope that you will excuse me +when you hear the reason, which is, that I am a lover of knowledge, and the +men who dwell in the city are my teachers, and not the trees or the +country. Though I do indeed believe that you have found a spell with which +to draw me out of the city into the country, like a hungry cow before whom +a bough or a bunch of fruit is waved. For only hold up before me in like +manner a book, and you may lead me all round Attica, and over the wide +world. And now having arrived, I intend to lie down, and do you choose any +posture in which you can read best. Begin. + +PHAEDRUS: Listen. You know how matters stand with me; and how, as I +conceive, this affair may be arranged for the advantage of both of us. And +I maintain that I ought not to fail in my suit, because I am not your +lover: for lovers repent of the kindnesses which they have shown when +their passion ceases, but to the non-lovers who are free and not under any +compulsion, no time of repentance ever comes; for they confer their +benefits according to the measure of their ability, in the way which is +most conducive to their own interest. Then again, lovers consider how by +reason of their love they have neglected their own concerns and rendered +service to others: and when to these benefits conferred they add on the +troubles which they have endured, they think that they have long ago made +to the beloved a very ample return. But the non-lover has no such +tormenting recollections; he has never neglected his affairs or quarrelled +with his relations; he has no troubles to add up or excuses to invent; and +being well rid of all these evils, why should he not freely do what will +gratify the beloved? If you say that the lover is more to be esteemed, +because his love is thought to be greater; for he is willing to say and do +what is hateful to other men, in order to please his beloved;--that, if +true, is only a proof that he will prefer any future love to his present, +and will injure his old love at the pleasure of the new. And how, in a +matter of such infinite importance, can a man be right in trusting himself +to one who is afflicted with a malady which no experienced person would +attempt to cure, for the patient himself admits that he is not in his right +mind, and acknowledges that he is wrong in his mind, but says that he is +unable to control himself? And if he came to his right mind, would he ever +imagine that the desires were good which he conceived when in his wrong +mind? Once more, there are many more non-lovers than lovers; and if you +choose the best of the lovers, you will not have many to choose from; but +if from the non-lovers, the choice will be larger, and you will be far more +likely to find among them a person who is worthy of your friendship. If +public opinion be your dread, and you would avoid reproach, in all +probability the lover, who is always thinking that other men are as emulous +of him as he is of them, will boast to some one of his successes, and make +a show of them openly in the pride of his heart;--he wants others to know +that his labour has not been lost; but the non-lover is more his own +master, and is desirous of solid good, and not of the opinion of mankind. +Again, the lover may be generally noted or seen following the beloved (this +is his regular occupation), and whenever they are observed to exchange two +words they are supposed to meet about some affair of love either past or in +contemplation; but when non-lovers meet, no one asks the reason why, +because people know that talking to another is natural, whether friendship +or mere pleasure be the motive. Once more, if you fear the fickleness of +friendship, consider that in any other case a quarrel might be a mutual +calamity; but now, when you have given up what is most precious to you, you +will be the greater loser, and therefore, you will have more reason in +being afraid of the lover, for his vexations are many, and he is always +fancying that every one is leagued against him. Wherefore also he debars +his beloved from society; he will not have you intimate with the wealthy, +lest they should exceed him in wealth, or with men of education, lest they +should be his superiors in understanding; and he is equally afraid of +anybody's influence who has any other advantage over himself. If he can +persuade you to break with them, you are left without a friend in the +world; or if, out of a regard to your own interest, you have more sense +than to comply with his desire, you will have to quarrel with him. But +those who are non-lovers, and whose success in love is the reward of their +merit, will not be jealous of the companions of their beloved, and will +rather hate those who refuse to be his associates, thinking that their +favourite is slighted by the latter and benefited by the former; for more +love than hatred may be expected to come to him out of his friendship with +others. Many lovers too have loved the person of a youth before they knew +his character or his belongings; so that when their passion has passed +away, there is no knowing whether they will continue to be his friends; +whereas, in the case of non-lovers who were always friends, the friendship +is not lessened by the favours granted; but the recollection of these +remains with them, and is an earnest of good things to come. + +Further, I say that you are likely to be improved by me, whereas the lover +will spoil you. For they praise your words and actions in a wrong way; +partly, because they are afraid of offending you, and also, their judgment +is weakened by passion. Such are the feats which love exhibits; he makes +things painful to the disappointed which give no pain to others; he compels +the successful lover to praise what ought not to give him pleasure, and +therefore the beloved is to be pitied rather than envied. But if you +listen to me, in the first place, I, in my intercourse with you, shall not +merely regard present enjoyment, but also future advantage, being not +mastered by love, but my own master; nor for small causes taking violent +dislikes, but even when the cause is great, slowly laying up little wrath-- +unintentional offences I shall forgive, and intentional ones I shall try to +prevent; and these are the marks of a friendship which will last. + +Do you think that a lover only can be a firm friend? reflect:--if this were +true, we should set small value on sons, or fathers, or mothers; nor should +we ever have loyal friends, for our love of them arises not from passion, +but from other associations. Further, if we ought to shower favours on +those who are the most eager suitors,--on that principle, we ought always +to do good, not to the most virtuous, but to the most needy; for they are +the persons who will be most relieved, and will therefore be the most +grateful; and when you make a feast you should invite not your friend, but +the beggar and the empty soul; for they will love you, and attend you, and +come about your doors, and will be the best pleased, and the most grateful, +and will invoke many a blessing on your head. Yet surely you ought not to +be granting favours to those who besiege you with prayer, but to those who +are best able to reward you; nor to the lover only, but to those who are +worthy of love; nor to those who will enjoy the bloom of your youth, but to +those who will share their possessions with you in age; nor to those who, +having succeeded, will glory in their success to others, but to those who +will be modest and tell no tales; nor to those who care about you for a +moment only, but to those who will continue your friends through life; nor +to those who, when their passion is over, will pick a quarrel with you, but +rather to those who, when the charm of youth has left you, will show their +own virtue. Remember what I have said; and consider yet this further +point: friends admonish the lover under the idea that his way of life is +bad, but no one of his kindred ever yet censured the non-lover, or thought +that he was ill-advised about his own interests. + +'Perhaps you will ask me whether I propose that you should indulge every +non-lover. To which I reply that not even the lover would advise you to +indulge all lovers, for the indiscriminate favour is less esteemed by the +rational recipient, and less easily hidden by him who would escape the +censure of the world. Now love ought to be for the advantage of both +parties, and for the injury of neither. + +'I believe that I have said enough; but if there is anything more which you +desire or which in your opinion needs to be supplied, ask and I will +answer.' + +Now, Socrates, what do you think? Is not the discourse excellent, more +especially in the matter of the language? + +SOCRATES: Yes, quite admirable; the effect on me was ravishing. And this +I owe to you, Phaedrus, for I observed you while reading to be in an +ecstasy, and thinking that you are more experienced in these matters than I +am, I followed your example, and, like you, my divine darling, I became +inspired with a phrenzy. + +PHAEDRUS: Indeed, you are pleased to be merry. + +SOCRATES: Do you mean that I am not in earnest? + +PHAEDRUS: Now don't talk in that way, Socrates, but let me have your real +opinion; I adjure you, by Zeus, the god of friendship, to tell me whether +you think that any Hellene could have said more or spoken better on the +same subject. + +SOCRATES: Well, but are you and I expected to praise the sentiments of the +author, or only the clearness, and roundness, and finish, and tournure of +the language? As to the first I willingly submit to your better judgment, +for I am not worthy to form an opinion, having only attended to the +rhetorical manner; and I was doubting whether this could have been defended +even by Lysias himself; I thought, though I speak under correction, that he +repeated himself two or three times, either from want of words or from want +of pains; and also, he appeared to me ostentatiously to exult in showing +how well he could say the same thing in two or three ways. + +PHAEDRUS: Nonsense, Socrates; what you call repetition was the especial +merit of the speech; for he omitted no topic of which the subject rightly +allowed, and I do not think that any one could have spoken better or more +exhaustively. + +SOCRATES: There I cannot go along with you. Ancient sages, men and women, +who have spoken and written of these things, would rise up in judgment +against me, if out of complaisance I assented to you. + +PHAEDRUS: Who are they, and where did you hear anything better than this? + +SOCRATES: I am sure that I must have heard; but at this moment I do not +remember from whom; perhaps from Sappho the fair, or Anacreon the wise; or, +possibly, from a prose writer. Why do I say so? Why, because I perceive +that my bosom is full, and that I could make another speech as good as that +of Lysias, and different. Now I am certain that this is not an invention +of my own, who am well aware that I know nothing, and therefore I can only +infer that I have been filled through the ears, like a pitcher, from the +waters of another, though I have actually forgotten in my stupidity who was +my informant. + +PHAEDRUS: That is grand:--but never mind where you heard the discourse or +from whom; let that be a mystery not to be divulged even at my earnest +desire. Only, as you say, promise to make another and better oration, +equal in length and entirely new, on the same subject; and I, like the nine +Archons, will promise to set up a golden image at Delphi, not only of +myself, but of you, and as large as life. + +SOCRATES: You are a dear golden ass if you suppose me to mean that Lysias +has altogether missed the mark, and that I can make a speech from which all +his arguments are to be excluded. The worst of authors will say something +which is to the point. Who, for example, could speak on this thesis of +yours without praising the discretion of the non-lover and blaming the +indiscretion of the lover? These are the commonplaces of the subject which +must come in (for what else is there to be said?) and must be allowed and +excused; the only merit is in the arrangement of them, for there can be +none in the invention; but when you leave the commonplaces, then there may +be some originality. + +PHAEDRUS: I admit that there is reason in what you say, and I too will be +reasonable, and will allow you to start with the premiss that the lover is +more disordered in his wits than the non-lover; if in what remains you make +a longer and better speech than Lysias, and use other arguments, then I say +again, that a statue you shall have of beaten gold, and take your place by +the colossal offerings of the Cypselids at Olympia. + +SOCRATES: How profoundly in earnest is the lover, because to tease him I +lay a finger upon his love! And so, Phaedrus, you really imagine that I am +going to improve upon the ingenuity of Lysias? + +PHAEDRUS: There I have you as you had me, and you must just speak 'as you +best can.' Do not let us exchange 'tu quoque' as in a farce, or compel me +to say to you as you said to me, 'I know Socrates as well as I know myself, +and he was wanting to speak, but he gave himself airs.' Rather I would +have you consider that from this place we stir not until you have unbosomed +yourself of the speech; for here are we all alone, and I am stronger, +remember, and younger than you:--Wherefore perpend, and do not compel me to +use violence. + +SOCRATES: But, my sweet Phaedrus, how ridiculous it would be of me to +compete with Lysias in an extempore speech! He is a master in his art and +I am an untaught man. + +PHAEDRUS: You see how matters stand; and therefore let there be no more +pretences; for, indeed, I know the word that is irresistible. + +SOCRATES: Then don't say it. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, but I will; and my word shall be an oath. 'I say, or +rather swear'--but what god will be witness of my oath?--'By this plane- +tree I swear, that unless you repeat the discourse here in the face of this +very plane-tree, I will never tell you another; never let you have word of +another!' + +SOCRATES: Villain! I am conquered; the poor lover of discourse has no +more to say. + +PHAEDRUS: Then why are you still at your tricks? + +SOCRATES: I am not going to play tricks now that you have taken the oath, +for I cannot allow myself to be starved. + +PHAEDRUS: Proceed. + +SOCRATES: Shall I tell you what I will do? + +PHAEDRUS: What? + +SOCRATES: I will veil my face and gallop through the discourse as fast as +I can, for if I see you I shall feel ashamed and not know what to say. + +PHAEDRUS: Only go on and you may do anything else which you please. + +SOCRATES: Come, O ye Muses, melodious, as ye are called, whether you have +received this name from the character of your strains, or because the +Melians are a musical race, help, O help me in the tale which my good +friend here desires me to rehearse, in order that his friend whom he always +deemed wise may seem to him to be wiser than ever. + +Once upon a time there was a fair boy, or, more properly speaking, a youth; +he was very fair and had a great many lovers; and there was one special +cunning one, who had persuaded the youth that he did not love him, but he +really loved him all the same; and one day when he was paying his addresses +to him, he used this very argument--that he ought to accept the non-lover +rather than the lover; his words were as follows:-- + +'All good counsel begins in the same way; a man should know what he is +advising about, or his counsel will all come to nought. But people imagine +that they know about the nature of things, when they don't know about them, +and, not having come to an understanding at first because they think that +they know, they end, as might be expected, in contradicting one another and +themselves. Now you and I must not be guilty of this fundamental error +which we condemn in others; but as our question is whether the lover or +non-lover is to be preferred, let us first of all agree in defining the +nature and power of love, and then, keeping our eyes upon the definition +and to this appealing, let us further enquire whether love brings advantage +or disadvantage. + +'Every one sees that love is a desire, and we know also that non-lovers +desire the beautiful and good. Now in what way is the lover to be +distinguished from the non-lover? Let us note that in every one of us +there are two guiding and ruling principles which lead us whither they +will; one is the natural desire of pleasure, the other is an acquired +opinion which aspires after the best; and these two are sometimes in +harmony and then again at war, and sometimes the one, sometimes the other +conquers. When opinion by the help of reason leads us to the best, the +conquering principle is called temperance; but when desire, which is devoid +of reason, rules in us and drags us to pleasure, that power of misrule is +called excess. Now excess has many names, and many members, and many +forms, and any of these forms when very marked gives a name, neither +honourable nor creditable, to the bearer of the name. The desire of +eating, for example, which gets the better of the higher reason and the +other desires, is called gluttony, and he who is possessed by it is called +a glutton; the tyrannical desire of drink, which inclines the possessor of +the desire to drink, has a name which is only too obvious, and there can be +as little doubt by what name any other appetite of the same family would be +called;--it will be the name of that which happens to be dominant. And now +I think that you will perceive the drift of my discourse; but as every +spoken word is in a manner plainer than the unspoken, I had better say +further that the irrational desire which overcomes the tendency of opinion +towards right, and is led away to the enjoyment of beauty, and especially +of personal beauty, by the desires which are her own kindred--that supreme +desire, I say, which by leading conquers and by the force of passion is +reinforced, from this very force, receiving a name, is called love +(erromenos eros).' + +And now, dear Phaedrus, I shall pause for an instant to ask whether you do +not think me, as I appear to myself, inspired? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, Socrates, you seem to have a very unusual flow of words. + +SOCRATES: Listen to me, then, in silence; for surely the place is holy; so +that you must not wonder, if, as I proceed, I appear to be in a divine +fury, for already I am getting into dithyrambics. + +PHAEDRUS: Nothing can be truer. + +SOCRATES: The responsibility rests with you. But hear what follows, and +perhaps the fit may be averted; all is in their hands above. I will go on +talking to my youth. Listen:-- + +Thus, my friend, we have declared and defined the nature of the subject. +Keeping the definition in view, let us now enquire what advantage or +disadvantage is likely to ensue from the lover or the non-lover to him who +accepts their advances. + +He who is the victim of his passions and the slave of pleasure will of +course desire to make his beloved as agreeable to himself as possible. Now +to him who has a mind diseased anything is agreeable which is not opposed +to him, but that which is equal or superior is hateful to him, and +therefore the lover will not brook any superiority or equality on the part +of his beloved; he is always employed in reducing him to inferiority. And +the ignorant is the inferior of the wise, the coward of the brave, the slow +of speech of the speaker, the dull of the clever. These, and not these +only, are the mental defects of the beloved;--defects which, when implanted +by nature, are necessarily a delight to the lover, and when not implanted, +he must contrive to implant them in him, if he would not be deprived of his +fleeting joy. And therefore he cannot help being jealous, and will debar +his beloved from the advantages of society which would make a man of him, +and especially from that society which would have given him wisdom, and +thereby he cannot fail to do him great harm. That is to say, in his +excessive fear lest he should come to be despised in his eyes he will be +compelled to banish from him divine philosophy; and there is no greater +injury which he can inflict upon him than this. He will contrive that his +beloved shall be wholly ignorant, and in everything shall look to him; he +is to be the delight of the lover's heart, and a curse to himself. Verily, +a lover is a profitable guardian and associate for him in all that relates +to his mind. + +Let us next see how his master, whose law of life is pleasure and not good, +will keep and train the body of his servant. Will he not choose a beloved +who is delicate rather than sturdy and strong? One brought up in shady +bowers and not in the bright sun, a stranger to manly exercises and the +sweat of toil, accustomed only to a soft and luxurious diet, instead of the +hues of health having the colours of paint and ornament, and the rest of a +piece?--such a life as any one can imagine and which I need not detail at +length. But I may sum up all that I have to say in a word, and pass on. +Such a person in war, or in any of the great crises of life, will be the +anxiety of his friends and also of his lover, and certainly not the terror +of his enemies; which nobody can deny. + +And now let us tell what advantage or disadvantage the beloved will receive +from the guardianship and society of his lover in the matter of his +property; this is the next point to be considered. The lover will be the +first to see what, indeed, will be sufficiently evident to all men, that he +desires above all things to deprive his beloved of his dearest and best and +holiest possessions, father, mother, kindred, friends, of all whom he +thinks may be hinderers or reprovers of their most sweet converse; he will +even cast a jealous eye upon his gold and silver or other property, because +these make him a less easy prey, and when caught less manageable; hence he +is of necessity displeased at his possession of them and rejoices at their +loss; and he would like him to be wifeless, childless, homeless, as well; +and the longer the better, for the longer he is all this, the longer he +will enjoy him. + +There are some sort of animals, such as flatterers, who are dangerous and +mischievous enough, and yet nature has mingled a temporary pleasure and +grace in their composition. You may say that a courtesan is hurtful, and +disapprove of such creatures and their practices, and yet for the time they +are very pleasant. But the lover is not only hurtful to his love; he is +also an extremely disagreeable companion. The old proverb says that 'birds +of a feather flock together'; I suppose that equality of years inclines +them to the same pleasures, and similarity begets friendship; yet you may +have more than enough even of this; and verily constraint is always said to +be grievous. Now the lover is not only unlike his beloved, but he forces +himself upon him. For he is old and his love is young, and neither day nor +night will he leave him if he can help; necessity and the sting of desire +drive him on, and allure him with the pleasure which he receives from +seeing, hearing, touching, perceiving him in every way. And therefore he +is delighted to fasten upon him and to minister to him. But what pleasure +or consolation can the beloved be receiving all this time? Must he not +feel the extremity of disgust when he looks at an old shrivelled face and +the remainder to match, which even in a description is disagreeable, and +quite detestable when he is forced into daily contact with his lover; +moreover he is jealously watched and guarded against everything and +everybody, and has to hear misplaced and exaggerated praises of himself, +and censures equally inappropriate, which are intolerable when the man is +sober, and, besides being intolerable, are published all over the world in +all their indelicacy and wearisomeness when he is drunk. + +And not only while his love continues is he mischievous and unpleasant, but +when his love ceases he becomes a perfidious enemy of him on whom he +showered his oaths and prayers and promises, and yet could hardly prevail +upon him to tolerate the tedium of his company even from motives of +interest. The hour of payment arrives, and now he is the servant of +another master; instead of love and infatuation, wisdom and temperance are +his bosom's lords; but the beloved has not discovered the change which has +taken place in him, when he asks for a return and recalls to his +recollection former sayings and doings; he believes himself to be speaking +to the same person, and the other, not having the courage to confess the +truth, and not knowing how to fulfil the oaths and promises which he made +when under the dominion of folly, and having now grown wise and temperate, +does not want to do as he did or to be as he was before. And so he runs +away and is constrained to be a defaulter; the oyster-shell (In allusion to +a game in which two parties fled or pursued according as an oyster-shell +which was thrown into the air fell with the dark or light side uppermost.) +has fallen with the other side uppermost--he changes pursuit into flight, +while the other is compelled to follow him with passion and imprecation, +not knowing that he ought never from the first to have accepted a demented +lover instead of a sensible non-lover; and that in making such a choice he +was giving himself up to a faithless, morose, envious, disagreeable being, +hurtful to his estate, hurtful to his bodily health, and still more hurtful +to the cultivation of his mind, than which there neither is nor ever will +be anything more honoured in the eyes both of gods and men. Consider this, +fair youth, and know that in the friendship of the lover there is no real +kindness; he has an appetite and wants to feed upon you: + +'As wolves love lambs so lovers love their loves.' + +But I told you so, I am speaking in verse, and therefore I had better make +an end; enough. + +PHAEDRUS: I thought that you were only half-way and were going to make a +similar speech about all the advantages of accepting the non-lover. Why do +you not proceed? + +SOCRATES: Does not your simplicity observe that I have got out of +dithyrambics into heroics, when only uttering a censure on the lover? And +if I am to add the praises of the non-lover what will become of me? Do you +not perceive that I am already overtaken by the Nymphs to whom you have +mischievously exposed me? And therefore I will only add that the non-lover +has all the advantages in which the lover is accused of being deficient. +And now I will say no more; there has been enough of both of them. Leaving +the tale to its fate, I will cross the river and make the best of my way +home, lest a worse thing be inflicted upon me by you. + +PHAEDRUS: Not yet, Socrates; not until the heat of the day has passed; do +you not see that the hour is almost noon? there is the midday sun standing +still, as people say, in the meridian. Let us rather stay and talk over +what has been said, and then return in the cool. + +SOCRATES: Your love of discourse, Phaedrus, is superhuman, simply +marvellous, and I do not believe that there is any one of your +contemporaries who has either made or in one way or another has compelled +others to make an equal number of speeches. I would except Simmias the +Theban, but all the rest are far behind you. And now I do verily believe +that you have been the cause of another. + +PHAEDRUS: That is good news. But what do you mean? + +SOCRATES: I mean to say that as I was about to cross the stream the usual +sign was given to me,--that sign which always forbids, but never bids, me +to do anything which I am going to do; and I thought that I heard a voice +saying in my ear that I had been guilty of impiety, and that I must not go +away until I had made an atonement. Now I am a diviner, though not a very +good one, but I have enough religion for my own use, as you might say of a +bad writer--his writing is good enough for him; and I am beginning to see +that I was in error. O my friend, how prophetic is the human soul! At the +time I had a sort of misgiving, and, like Ibycus, 'I was troubled; I feared +that I might be buying honour from men at the price of sinning against the +gods.' Now I recognize my error. + +PHAEDRUS: What error? + +SOCRATES: That was a dreadful speech which you brought with you, and you +made me utter one as bad. + +PHAEDRUS: How so? + +SOCRATES: It was foolish, I say,--to a certain extent, impious; can +anything be more dreadful? + +PHAEDRUS: Nothing, if the speech was really such as you describe. + +SOCRATES: Well, and is not Eros the son of Aphrodite, and a god? + +PHAEDRUS: So men say. + +SOCRATES: But that was not acknowledged by Lysias in his speech, nor by +you in that other speech which you by a charm drew from my lips. For if +love be, as he surely is, a divinity, he cannot be evil. Yet this was the +error of both the speeches. There was also a simplicity about them which +was refreshing; having no truth or honesty in them, nevertheless they +pretended to be something, hoping to succeed in deceiving the manikins of +earth and gain celebrity among them. Wherefore I must have a purgation. +And I bethink me of an ancient purgation of mythological error which was +devised, not by Homer, for he never had the wit to discover why he was +blind, but by Stesichorus, who was a philosopher and knew the reason why; +and therefore, when he lost his eyes, for that was the penalty which was +inflicted upon him for reviling the lovely Helen, he at once purged +himself. And the purgation was a recantation, which began thus,-- + +'False is that word of mine--the truth is that thou didst not embark in +ships, nor ever go to the walls of Troy;' + +and when he had completed his poem, which is called 'the recantation,' +immediately his sight returned to him. Now I will be wiser than either +Stesichorus or Homer, in that I am going to make my recantation for +reviling love before I suffer; and this I will attempt, not as before, +veiled and ashamed, but with forehead bold and bare. + +PHAEDRUS: Nothing could be more agreeable to me than to hear you say so. + +SOCRATES: Only think, my good Phaedrus, what an utter want of delicacy was +shown in the two discourses; I mean, in my own and in that which you +recited out of the book. Would not any one who was himself of a noble and +gentle nature, and who loved or ever had loved a nature like his own, when +we tell of the petty causes of lovers' jealousies, and of their exceeding +animosities, and of the injuries which they do to their beloved, have +imagined that our ideas of love were taken from some haunt of sailors to +which good manners were unknown--he would certainly never have admitted the +justice of our censure? + +PHAEDRUS: I dare say not, Socrates. + +SOCRATES: Therefore, because I blush at the thought of this person, and +also because I am afraid of Love himself, I desire to wash the brine out of +my ears with water from the spring; and I would counsel Lysias not to +delay, but to write another discourse, which shall prove that 'ceteris +paribus' the lover ought to be accepted rather than the non-lover. + +PHAEDRUS: Be assured that he shall. You shall speak the praises of the +lover, and Lysias shall be compelled by me to write another discourse on +the same theme. + +SOCRATES: You will be true to your nature in that, and therefore I believe +you. + +PHAEDRUS: Speak, and fear not. + +SOCRATES: But where is the fair youth whom I was addressing before, and +who ought to listen now; lest, if he hear me not, he should accept a non- +lover before he knows what he is doing? + +PHAEDRUS: He is close at hand, and always at your service. + +SOCRATES: Know then, fair youth, that the former discourse was the word of +Phaedrus, the son of Vain Man, who dwells in the city of Myrrhina +(Myrrhinusius). And this which I am about to utter is the recantation of +Stesichorus the son of Godly Man (Euphemus), who comes from the town of +Desire (Himera), and is to the following effect: 'I told a lie when I +said' that the beloved ought to accept the non-lover when he might have the +lover, because the one is sane, and the other mad. It might be so if +madness were simply an evil; but there is also a madness which is a divine +gift, and the source of the chiefest blessings granted to men. For +prophecy is a madness, and the prophetess at Delphi and the priestesses at +Dodona when out of their senses have conferred great benefits on Hellas, +both in public and private life, but when in their senses few or none. And +I might also tell you how the Sibyl and other inspired persons have given +to many an one many an intimation of the future which has saved them from +falling. But it would be tedious to speak of what every one knows. + +There will be more reason in appealing to the ancient inventors of names +(compare Cratylus), who would never have connected prophecy (mantike) which +foretells the future and is the noblest of arts, with madness (manike), or +called them both by the same name, if they had deemed madness to be a +disgrace or dishonour;--they must have thought that there was an inspired +madness which was a noble thing; for the two words, mantike and manike, are +really the same, and the letter tau is only a modern and tasteless +insertion. And this is confirmed by the name which was given by them to +the rational investigation of futurity, whether made by the help of birds +or of other signs--this, for as much as it is an art which supplies from +the reasoning faculty mind (nous) and information (istoria) to human +thought (oiesis) they originally termed oionoistike, but the word has been +lately altered and made sonorous by the modern introduction of the letter +Omega (oionoistike and oionistike), and in proportion as prophecy (mantike) +is more perfect and august than augury, both in name and fact, in the same +proportion, as the ancients testify, is madness superior to a sane mind +(sophrosune) for the one is only of human, but the other of divine origin. +Again, where plagues and mightiest woes have bred in certain families, +owing to some ancient blood-guiltiness, there madness has entered with holy +prayers and rites, and by inspired utterances found a way of deliverance +for those who are in need; and he who has part in this gift, and is truly +possessed and duly out of his mind, is by the use of purifications and +mysteries made whole and exempt from evil, future as well as present, and +has a release from the calamity which was afflicting him. The third kind +is the madness of those who are possessed by the Muses; which taking hold +of a delicate and virgin soul, and there inspiring frenzy, awakens lyrical +and all other numbers; with these adorning the myriad actions of ancient +heroes for the instruction of posterity. But he who, having no touch of +the Muses' madness in his soul, comes to the door and thinks that he will +get into the temple by the help of art--he, I say, and his poetry are not +admitted; the sane man disappears and is nowhere when he enters into +rivalry with the madman. + +I might tell of many other noble deeds which have sprung from inspired +madness. And therefore, let no one frighten or flutter us by saying that +the temperate friend is to be chosen rather than the inspired, but let him +further show that love is not sent by the gods for any good to lover or +beloved; if he can do so we will allow him to carry off the palm. And we, +on our part, will prove in answer to him that the madness of love is the +greatest of heaven's blessings, and the proof shall be one which the wise +will receive, and the witling disbelieve. But first of all, let us view +the affections and actions of the soul divine and human, and try to +ascertain the truth about them. The beginning of our proof is as follows:- + +(Translated by Cic. Tus. Quaest.) The soul through all her being is +immortal, for that which is ever in motion is immortal; but that which +moves another and is moved by another, in ceasing to move ceases also to +live. Only the self-moving, never leaving self, never ceases to move, and +is the fountain and beginning of motion to all that moves besides. Now, +the beginning is unbegotten, for that which is begotten has a beginning; +but the beginning is begotten of nothing, for if it were begotten of +something, then the begotten would not come from a beginning. But if +unbegotten, it must also be indestructible; for if beginning were +destroyed, there could be no beginning out of anything, nor anything out of +a beginning; and all things must have a beginning. And therefore the self- +moving is the beginning of motion; and this can neither be destroyed nor +begotten, else the whole heavens and all creation would collapse and stand +still, and never again have motion or birth. But if the self-moving is +proved to be immortal, he who affirms that self-motion is the very idea and +essence of the soul will not be put to confusion. For the body which is +moved from without is soulless; but that which is moved from within has a +soul, for such is the nature of the soul. But if this be true, must not +the soul be the self-moving, and therefore of necessity unbegotten and +immortal? Enough of the soul's immortality. + +Of the nature of the soul, though her true form be ever a theme of large +and more than mortal discourse, let me speak briefly, and in a figure. And +let the figure be composite--a pair of winged horses and a charioteer. Now +the winged horses and the charioteers of the gods are all of them noble and +of noble descent, but those of other races are mixed; the human charioteer +drives his in a pair; and one of them is noble and of noble breed, and the +other is ignoble and of ignoble breed; and the driving of them of necessity +gives a great deal of trouble to him. I will endeavour to explain to you +in what way the mortal differs from the immortal creature. The soul in her +totality has the care of inanimate being everywhere, and traverses the +whole heaven in divers forms appearing--when perfect and fully winged she +soars upward, and orders the whole world; whereas the imperfect soul, +losing her wings and drooping in her flight at last settles on the solid +ground--there, finding a home, she receives an earthly frame which appears +to be self-moved, but is really moved by her power; and this composition of +soul and body is called a living and mortal creature. For immortal no such +union can be reasonably believed to be; although fancy, not having seen nor +surely known the nature of God, may imagine an immortal creature having +both a body and also a soul which are united throughout all time. Let +that, however, be as God wills, and be spoken of acceptably to him. And +now let us ask the reason why the soul loses her wings! + +The wing is the corporeal element which is most akin to the divine, and +which by nature tends to soar aloft and carry that which gravitates +downwards into the upper region, which is the habitation of the gods. The +divine is beauty, wisdom, goodness, and the like; and by these the wing of +the soul is nourished, and grows apace; but when fed upon evil and foulness +and the opposite of good, wastes and falls away. Zeus, the mighty lord, +holding the reins of a winged chariot, leads the way in heaven, ordering +all and taking care of all; and there follows him the array of gods and +demi-gods, marshalled in eleven bands; Hestia alone abides at home in the +house of heaven; of the rest they who are reckoned among the princely +twelve march in their appointed order. They see many blessed sights in the +inner heaven, and there are many ways to and fro, along which the blessed +gods are passing, every one doing his own work; he may follow who will and +can, for jealousy has no place in the celestial choir. But when they go to +banquet and festival, then they move up the steep to the top of the vault +of heaven. The chariots of the gods in even poise, obeying the rein, glide +rapidly; but the others labour, for the vicious steed goes heavily, +weighing down the charioteer to the earth when his steed has not been +thoroughly trained:--and this is the hour of agony and extremest conflict +for the soul. For the immortals, when they are at the end of their course, +go forth and stand upon the outside of heaven, and the revolution of the +spheres carries them round, and they behold the things beyond. But of the +heaven which is above the heavens, what earthly poet ever did or ever will +sing worthily? It is such as I will describe; for I must dare to speak the +truth, when truth is my theme. There abides the very being with which true +knowledge is concerned; the colourless, formless, intangible essence, +visible only to mind, the pilot of the soul. The divine intelligence, +being nurtured upon mind and pure knowledge, and the intelligence of every +soul which is capable of receiving the food proper to it, rejoices at +beholding reality, and once more gazing upon truth, is replenished and made +glad, until the revolution of the worlds brings her round again to the same +place. In the revolution she beholds justice, and temperance, and +knowledge absolute, not in the form of generation or of relation, which men +call existence, but knowledge absolute in existence absolute; and beholding +the other true existences in like manner, and feasting upon them, she +passes down into the interior of the heavens and returns home; and there +the charioteer putting up his horses at the stall, gives them ambrosia to +eat and nectar to drink. + +Such is the life of the gods; but of other souls, that which follows God +best and is likest to him lifts the head of the charioteer into the outer +world, and is carried round in the revolution, troubled indeed by the +steeds, and with difficulty beholding true being; while another only rises +and falls, and sees, and again fails to see by reason of the unruliness of +the steeds. The rest of the souls are also longing after the upper world +and they all follow, but not being strong enough they are carried round +below the surface, plunging, treading on one another, each striving to be +first; and there is confusion and perspiration and the extremity of effort; +and many of them are lamed or have their wings broken through the ill- +driving of the charioteers; and all of them after a fruitless toil, not +having attained to the mysteries of true being, go away, and feed upon +opinion. The reason why the souls exhibit this exceeding eagerness to +behold the plain of truth is that pasturage is found there, which is suited +to the highest part of the soul; and the wing on which the soul soars is +nourished with this. And there is a law of Destiny, that the soul which +attains any vision of truth in company with a god is preserved from harm +until the next period, and if attaining always is always unharmed. But +when she is unable to follow, and fails to behold the truth, and through +some ill-hap sinks beneath the double load of forgetfulness and vice, and +her wings fall from her and she drops to the ground, then the law ordains +that this soul shall at her first birth pass, not into any other animal, +but only into man; and the soul which has seen most of truth shall come to +the birth as a philosopher, or artist, or some musical and loving nature; +that which has seen truth in the second degree shall be some righteous king +or warrior chief; the soul which is of the third class shall be a +politician, or economist, or trader; the fourth shall be a lover of +gymnastic toils, or a physician; the fifth shall lead the life of a prophet +or hierophant; to the sixth the character of poet or some other imitative +artist will be assigned; to the seventh the life of an artisan or +husbandman; to the eighth that of a sophist or demagogue; to the ninth that +of a tyrant--all these are states of probation, in which he who does +righteously improves, and he who does unrighteously, deteriorates his lot. + +Ten thousand years must elapse before the soul of each one can return to +the place from whence she came, for she cannot grow her wings in less; only +the soul of a philosopher, guileless and true, or the soul of a lover, who +is not devoid of philosophy, may acquire wings in the third of the +recurring periods of a thousand years; he is distinguished from the +ordinary good man who gains wings in three thousand years:--and they who +choose this life three times in succession have wings given them, and go +away at the end of three thousand years. But the others (The philosopher +alone is not subject to judgment (krisis), for he has never lost the vision +of truth.) receive judgment when they have completed their first life, and +after the judgment they go, some of them to the houses of correction which +are under the earth, and are punished; others to some place in heaven +whither they are lightly borne by justice, and there they live in a manner +worthy of the life which they led here when in the form of men. And at the +end of the first thousand years the good souls and also the evil souls both +come to draw lots and choose their second life, and they may take any which +they please. The soul of a man may pass into the life of a beast, or from +the beast return again into the man. But the soul which has never seen the +truth will not pass into the human form. For a man must have intelligence +of universals, and be able to proceed from the many particulars of sense to +one conception of reason;--this is the recollection of those things which +our soul once saw while following God--when regardless of that which we now +call being she raised her head up towards the true being. And therefore +the mind of the philosopher alone has wings; and this is just, for he is +always, according to the measure of his abilities, clinging in recollection +to those things in which God abides, and in beholding which He is what He +is. And he who employs aright these memories is ever being initiated into +perfect mysteries and alone becomes truly perfect. But, as he forgets +earthly interests and is rapt in the divine, the vulgar deem him mad, and +rebuke him; they do not see that he is inspired. + +Thus far I have been speaking of the fourth and last kind of madness, which +is imputed to him who, when he sees the beauty of earth, is transported +with the recollection of the true beauty; he would like to fly away, but he +cannot; he is like a bird fluttering and looking upward and careless of the +world below; and he is therefore thought to be mad. And I have shown this +of all inspirations to be the noblest and highest and the offspring of the +highest to him who has or shares in it, and that he who loves the beautiful +is called a lover because he partakes of it. For, as has been already +said, every soul of man has in the way of nature beheld true being; this +was the condition of her passing into the form of man. But all souls do +not easily recall the things of the other world; they may have seen them +for a short time only, or they may have been unfortunate in their earthly +lot, and, having had their hearts turned to unrighteousness through some +corrupting influence, they may have lost the memory of the holy things +which once they saw. Few only retain an adequate remembrance of them; and +they, when they behold here any image of that other world, are rapt in +amazement; but they are ignorant of what this rapture means, because they +do not clearly perceive. For there is no light of justice or temperance or +any of the higher ideas which are precious to souls in the earthly copies +of them: they are seen through a glass dimly; and there are few who, going +to the images, behold in them the realities, and these only with +difficulty. There was a time when with the rest of the happy band they saw +beauty shining in brightness,--we philosophers following in the train of +Zeus, others in company with other gods; and then we beheld the beatific +vision and were initiated into a mystery which may be truly called most +blessed, celebrated by us in our state of innocence, before we had any +experience of evils to come, when we were admitted to the sight of +apparitions innocent and simple and calm and happy, which we beheld shining +in pure light, pure ourselves and not yet enshrined in that living tomb +which we carry about, now that we are imprisoned in the body, like an +oyster in his shell. Let me linger over the memory of scenes which have +passed away. + +But of beauty, I repeat again that we saw her there shining in company with +the celestial forms; and coming to earth we find her here too, shining in +clearness through the clearest aperture of sense. For sight is the most +piercing of our bodily senses; though not by that is wisdom seen; her +loveliness would have been transporting if there had been a visible image +of her, and the other ideas, if they had visible counterparts, would be +equally lovely. But this is the privilege of beauty, that being the +loveliest she is also the most palpable to sight. Now he who is not newly +initiated or who has become corrupted, does not easily rise out of this +world to the sight of true beauty in the other; he looks only at her +earthly namesake, and instead of being awed at the sight of her, he is +given over to pleasure, and like a brutish beast he rushes on to enjoy and +beget; he consorts with wantonness, and is not afraid or ashamed of +pursuing pleasure in violation of nature. But he whose initiation is +recent, and who has been the spectator of many glories in the other world, +is amazed when he sees any one having a godlike face or form, which is the +expression of divine beauty; and at first a shudder runs through him, and +again the old awe steals over him; then looking upon the face of his +beloved as of a god he reverences him, and if he were not afraid of being +thought a downright madman, he would sacrifice to his beloved as to the +image of a god; then while he gazes on him there is a sort of reaction, and +the shudder passes into an unusual heat and perspiration; for, as he +receives the effluence of beauty through the eyes, the wing moistens and he +warms. And as he warms, the parts out of which the wing grew, and which +had been hitherto closed and rigid, and had prevented the wing from +shooting forth, are melted, and as nourishment streams upon him, the lower +end of the wing begins to swell and grow from the root upwards; and the +growth extends under the whole soul--for once the whole was winged. During +this process the whole soul is all in a state of ebullition and +effervescence,--which may be compared to the irritation and uneasiness in +the gums at the time of cutting teeth,--bubbles up, and has a feeling of +uneasiness and tickling; but when in like manner the soul is beginning to +grow wings, the beauty of the beloved meets her eye and she receives the +sensible warm motion of particles which flow towards her, therefore called +emotion (imeros), and is refreshed and warmed by them, and then she ceases +from her pain with joy. But when she is parted from her beloved and her +moisture fails, then the orifices of the passage out of which the wing +shoots dry up and close, and intercept the germ of the wing; which, being +shut up with the emotion, throbbing as with the pulsations of an artery, +pricks the aperture which is nearest, until at length the entire soul is +pierced and maddened and pained, and at the recollection of beauty is again +delighted. And from both of them together the soul is oppressed at the +strangeness of her condition, and is in a great strait and excitement, and +in her madness can neither sleep by night nor abide in her place by day. +And wherever she thinks that she will behold the beautiful one, thither in +her desire she runs. And when she has seen him, and bathed herself in the +waters of beauty, her constraint is loosened, and she is refreshed, and has +no more pangs and pains; and this is the sweetest of all pleasures at the +time, and is the reason why the soul of the lover will never forsake his +beautiful one, whom he esteems above all; he has forgotten mother and +brethren and companions, and he thinks nothing of the neglect and loss of +his property; the rules and proprieties of life, on which he formerly +prided himself, he now despises, and is ready to sleep like a servant, +wherever he is allowed, as near as he can to his desired one, who is the +object of his worship, and the physician who can alone assuage the +greatness of his pain. And this state, my dear imaginary youth to whom I +am talking, is by men called love, and among the gods has a name at which +you, in your simplicity, may be inclined to mock; there are two lines in +the apocryphal writings of Homer in which the name occurs. One of them is +rather outrageous, and not altogether metrical. They are as follows: + +'Mortals call him fluttering love, +But the immortals call him winged one, +Because the growing of wings (Or, reading pterothoiton, 'the movement of +wings.') is a necessity to him.' + +You may believe this, but not unless you like. At any rate the loves of +lovers and their causes are such as I have described. + +Now the lover who is taken to be the attendant of Zeus is better able to +bear the winged god, and can endure a heavier burden; but the attendants +and companions of Ares, when under the influence of love, if they fancy +that they have been at all wronged, are ready to kill and put an end to +themselves and their beloved. And he who follows in the train of any other +god, while he is unspoiled and the impression lasts, honours and imitates +him, as far as he is able; and after the manner of his God he behaves in +his intercourse with his beloved and with the rest of the world during the +first period of his earthly existence. Every one chooses his love from the +ranks of beauty according to his character, and this he makes his god, and +fashions and adorns as a sort of image which he is to fall down and +worship. The followers of Zeus desire that their beloved should have a +soul like him; and therefore they seek out some one of a philosophical and +imperial nature, and when they have found him and loved him, they do all +they can to confirm such a nature in him, and if they have no experience of +such a disposition hitherto, they learn of any one who can teach them, and +themselves follow in the same way. And they have the less difficulty in +finding the nature of their own god in themselves, because they have been +compelled to gaze intensely on him; their recollection clings to him, and +they become possessed of him, and receive from him their character and +disposition, so far as man can participate in God. The qualities of their +god they attribute to the beloved, wherefore they love him all the more, +and if, like the Bacchic Nymphs, they draw inspiration from Zeus, they pour +out their own fountain upon him, wanting to make him as like as possible to +their own god. But those who are the followers of Here seek a royal love, +and when they have found him they do just the same with him; and in like +manner the followers of Apollo, and of every other god walking in the ways +of their god, seek a love who is to be made like him whom they serve, and +when they have found him, they themselves imitate their god, and persuade +their love to do the same, and educate him into the manner and nature of +the god as far as they each can; for no feelings of envy or jealousy are +entertained by them towards their beloved, but they do their utmost to +create in him the greatest likeness of themselves and of the god whom they +honour. Thus fair and blissful to the beloved is the desire of the +inspired lover, and the initiation of which I speak into the mysteries of +true love, if he be captured by the lover and their purpose is effected. +Now the beloved is taken captive in the following manner:-- + +As I said at the beginning of this tale, I divided each soul into three-- +two horses and a charioteer; and one of the horses was good and the other +bad: the division may remain, but I have not yet explained in what the +goodness or badness of either consists, and to that I will now proceed. +The right-hand horse is upright and cleanly made; he has a lofty neck and +an aquiline nose; his colour is white, and his eyes dark; he is a lover of +honour and modesty and temperance, and the follower of true glory; he needs +no touch of the whip, but is guided by word and admonition only. The other +is a crooked lumbering animal, put together anyhow; he has a short thick +neck; he is flat-faced and of a dark colour, with grey eyes and blood-red +complexion (Or with grey and blood-shot eyes.); the mate of insolence and +pride, shag-eared and deaf, hardly yielding to whip and spur. Now when the +charioteer beholds the vision of love, and has his whole soul warmed +through sense, and is full of the prickings and ticklings of desire, the +obedient steed, then as always under the government of shame, refrains from +leaping on the beloved; but the other, heedless of the pricks and of the +blows of the whip, plunges and runs away, giving all manner of trouble to +his companion and the charioteer, whom he forces to approach the beloved +and to remember the joys of love. They at first indignantly oppose him and +will not be urged on to do terrible and unlawful deeds; but at last, when +he persists in plaguing them, they yield and agree to do as he bids them. +And now they are at the spot and behold the flashing beauty of the beloved; +which when the charioteer sees, his memory is carried to the true beauty, +whom he beholds in company with Modesty like an image placed upon a holy +pedestal. He sees her, but he is afraid and falls backwards in adoration, +and by his fall is compelled to pull back the reins with such violence as +to bring both the steeds on their haunches, the one willing and +unresisting, the unruly one very unwilling; and when they have gone back a +little, the one is overcome with shame and wonder, and his whole soul is +bathed in perspiration; the other, when the pain is over which the bridle +and the fall had given him, having with difficulty taken breath, is full of +wrath and reproaches, which he heaps upon the charioteer and his fellow- +steed, for want of courage and manhood, declaring that they have been false +to their agreement and guilty of desertion. Again they refuse, and again +he urges them on, and will scarce yield to their prayer that he would wait +until another time. When the appointed hour comes, they make as if they +had forgotten, and he reminds them, fighting and neighing and dragging them +on, until at length he on the same thoughts intent, forces them to draw +near again. And when they are near he stoops his head and puts up his +tail, and takes the bit in his teeth and pulls shamelessly. Then the +charioteer is worse off than ever; he falls back like a racer at the +barrier, and with a still more violent wrench drags the bit out of the +teeth of the wild steed and covers his abusive tongue and jaws with blood, +and forces his legs and haunches to the ground and punishes him sorely. +And when this has happened several times and the villain has ceased from +his wanton way, he is tamed and humbled, and follows the will of the +charioteer, and when he sees the beautiful one he is ready to die of fear. +And from that time forward the soul of the lover follows the beloved in +modesty and holy fear. + +And so the beloved who, like a god, has received every true and loyal +service from his lover, not in pretence but in reality, being also himself +of a nature friendly to his admirer, if in former days he has blushed to +own his passion and turned away his lover, because his youthful companions +or others slanderously told him that he would be disgraced, now as years +advance, at the appointed age and time, is led to receive him into +communion. For fate which has ordained that there shall be no friendship +among the evil has also ordained that there shall ever be friendship among +the good. And the beloved when he has received him into communion and +intimacy, is quite amazed at the good-will of the lover; he recognises that +the inspired friend is worth all other friends or kinsmen; they have +nothing of friendship in them worthy to be compared with his. And when +this feeling continues and he is nearer to him and embraces him, in +gymnastic exercises and at other times of meeting, then the fountain of +that stream, which Zeus when he was in love with Ganymede named Desire, +overflows upon the lover, and some enters into his soul, and some when he +is filled flows out again; and as a breeze or an echo rebounds from the +smooth rocks and returns whence it came, so does the stream of beauty, +passing through the eyes which are the windows of the soul, come back to +the beautiful one; there arriving and quickening the passages of the wings, +watering them and inclining them to grow, and filling the soul of the +beloved also with love. And thus he loves, but he knows not what; he does +not understand and cannot explain his own state; he appears to have caught +the infection of blindness from another; the lover is his mirror in whom he +is beholding himself, but he is not aware of this. When he is with the +lover, both cease from their pain, but when he is away then he longs as he +is longed for, and has love's image, love for love (Anteros) lodging in his +breast, which he calls and believes to be not love but friendship only, and +his desire is as the desire of the other, but weaker; he wants to see him, +touch him, kiss him, embrace him, and probably not long afterwards his +desire is accomplished. When they meet, the wanton steed of the lover has +a word to say to the charioteer; he would like to have a little pleasure in +return for many pains, but the wanton steed of the beloved says not a word, +for he is bursting with passion which he understands not;--he throws his +arms round the lover and embraces him as his dearest friend; and, when they +are side by side, he is not in a state in which he can refuse the lover +anything, if he ask him; although his fellow-steed and the charioteer +oppose him with the arguments of shame and reason. After this their +happiness depends upon their self-control; if the better elements of the +mind which lead to order and philosophy prevail, then they pass their life +here in happiness and harmony--masters of themselves and orderly--enslaving +the vicious and emancipating the virtuous elements of the soul; and when +the end comes, they are light and winged for flight, having conquered in +one of the three heavenly or truly Olympian victories; nor can human +discipline or divine inspiration confer any greater blessing on man than +this. If, on the other hand, they leave philosophy and lead the lower life +of ambition, then probably, after wine or in some other careless hour, the +two wanton animals take the two souls when off their guard and bring them +together, and they accomplish that desire of their hearts which to the many +is bliss; and this having once enjoyed they continue to enjoy, yet rarely +because they have not the approval of the whole soul. They too are dear, +but not so dear to one another as the others, either at the time of their +love or afterwards. They consider that they have given and taken from each +other the most sacred pledges, and they may not break them and fall into +enmity. At last they pass out of the body, unwinged, but eager to soar, +and thus obtain no mean reward of love and madness. For those who have +once begun the heavenward pilgrimage may not go down again to darkness and +the journey beneath the earth, but they live in light always; happy +companions in their pilgrimage, and when the time comes at which they +receive their wings they have the same plumage because of their love. + +Thus great are the heavenly blessings which the friendship of a lover will +confer upon you, my youth. Whereas the attachment of the non-lover, which +is alloyed with a worldly prudence and has worldly and niggardly ways of +doling out benefits, will breed in your soul those vulgar qualities which +the populace applaud, will send you bowling round the earth during a period +of nine thousand years, and leave you a fool in the world below. + +And thus, dear Eros, I have made and paid my recantation, as well and as +fairly as I could; more especially in the matter of the poetical figures +which I was compelled to use, because Phaedrus would have them. And now +forgive the past and accept the present, and be gracious and merciful to +me, and do not in thine anger deprive me of sight, or take from me the art +of love which thou hast given me, but grant that I may be yet more esteemed +in the eyes of the fair. And if Phaedrus or I myself said anything rude in +our first speeches, blame Lysias, who is the father of the brat, and let us +have no more of his progeny; bid him study philosophy, like his brother +Polemarchus; and then his lover Phaedrus will no longer halt between two +opinions, but will dedicate himself wholly to love and to philosophical +discourses. + +PHAEDRUS: I join in the prayer, Socrates, and say with you, if this be for +my good, may your words come to pass. But why did you make your second +oration so much finer than the first? I wonder why. And I begin to be +afraid that I shall lose conceit of Lysias, and that he will appear tame in +comparison, even if he be willing to put another as fine and as long as +yours into the field, which I doubt. For quite lately one of your +politicians was abusing him on this very account; and called him a 'speech +writer' again and again. So that a feeling of pride may probably induce +him to give up writing speeches. + +SOCRATES: What a very amusing notion! But I think, my young man, that you +are much mistaken in your friend if you imagine that he is frightened at a +little noise; and, possibly, you think that his assailant was in earnest? + +PHAEDRUS: I thought, Socrates, that he was. And you are aware that the +greatest and most influential statesmen are ashamed of writing speeches and +leaving them in a written form, lest they should be called Sophists by +posterity. + +SOCRATES: You seem to be unconscious, Phaedrus, that the 'sweet elbow' (A +proverb, like 'the grapes are sour,' applied to pleasures which cannot be +had, meaning sweet things which, like the elbow, are out of the reach of +the mouth. The promised pleasure turns out to be a long and tedious +affair.) of the proverb is really the long arm of the Nile. And you appear +to be equally unaware of the fact that this sweet elbow of theirs is also a +long arm. For there is nothing of which our great politicians are so fond +as of writing speeches and bequeathing them to posterity. And they add +their admirers' names at the top of the writing, out of gratitude to them. + +PHAEDRUS: What do you mean? I do not understand. + +SOCRATES: Why, do you not know that when a politician writes, he begins +with the names of his approvers? + +PHAEDRUS: How so? + +SOCRATES: Why, he begins in this manner: 'Be it enacted by the senate, +the people, or both, on the motion of a certain person,' who is our author; +and so putting on a serious face, he proceeds to display his own wisdom to +his admirers in what is often a long and tedious composition. Now what is +that sort of thing but a regular piece of authorship? + +PHAEDRUS: True. + +SOCRATES: And if the law is finally approved, then the author leaves the +theatre in high delight; but if the law is rejected and he is done out of +his speech-making, and not thought good enough to write, then he and his +party are in mourning. + +PHAEDRUS: Very true. + +SOCRATES: So far are they from despising, or rather so highly do they +value the practice of writing. + +PHAEDRUS: No doubt. + +SOCRATES: And when the king or orator has the power, as Lycurgus or Solon +or Darius had, of attaining an immortality or authorship in a state, is he +not thought by posterity, when they see his compositions, and does he not +think himself, while he is yet alive, to be a god? + +PHAEDRUS: Very true. + +SOCRATES: Then do you think that any one of this class, however ill- +disposed, would reproach Lysias with being an author? + +PHAEDRUS: Not upon your view; for according to you he would be casting a +slur upon his own favourite pursuit. + +SOCRATES: Any one may see that there is no disgrace in the mere fact of +writing. + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly not. + +SOCRATES: The disgrace begins when a man writes not well, but badly. + +PHAEDRUS: Clearly. + +SOCRATES: And what is well and what is badly--need we ask Lysias, or any +other poet or orator, who ever wrote or will write either a political or +any other work, in metre or out of metre, poet or prose writer, to teach us +this? + +PHAEDRUS: Need we? For what should a man live if not for the pleasures of +discourse? Surely not for the sake of bodily pleasures, which almost +always have previous pain as a condition of them, and therefore are rightly +called slavish. + +SOCRATES: There is time enough. And I believe that the grasshoppers +chirruping after their manner in the heat of the sun over our heads are +talking to one another and looking down at us. What would they say if they +saw that we, like the many, are not conversing, but slumbering at mid-day, +lulled by their voices, too indolent to think? Would they not have a right +to laugh at us? They might imagine that we were slaves, who, coming to +rest at a place of resort of theirs, like sheep lie asleep at noon around +the well. But if they see us discoursing, and like Odysseus sailing past +them, deaf to their siren voices, they may perhaps, out of respect, give us +of the gifts which they receive from the gods that they may impart them to +men. + +PHAEDRUS: What gifts do you mean? I never heard of any. + +SOCRATES: A lover of music like yourself ought surely to have heard the +story of the grasshoppers, who are said to have been human beings in an age +before the Muses. And when the Muses came and song appeared they were +ravished with delight; and singing always, never thought of eating and +drinking, until at last in their forgetfulness they died. And now they +live again in the grasshoppers; and this is the return which the Muses make +to them--they neither hunger, nor thirst, but from the hour of their birth +are always singing, and never eating or drinking; and when they die they go +and inform the Muses in heaven who honours them on earth. They win the +love of Terpsichore for the dancers by their report of them; of Erato for +the lovers, and of the other Muses for those who do them honour, according +to the several ways of honouring them;--of Calliope the eldest Muse and of +Urania who is next to her, for the philosophers, of whose music the +grasshoppers make report to them; for these are the Muses who are chiefly +concerned with heaven and thought, divine as well as human, and they have +the sweetest utterance. For many reasons, then, we ought always to talk +and not to sleep at mid-day. + +PHAEDRUS: Let us talk. + +SOCRATES: Shall we discuss the rules of writing and speech as we were +proposing? + +PHAEDRUS: Very good. + +SOCRATES: In good speaking should not the mind of the speaker know the +truth of the matter about which he is going to speak? + +PHAEDRUS: And yet, Socrates, I have heard that he who would be an orator +has nothing to do with true justice, but only with that which is likely to +be approved by the many who sit in judgment; nor with the truly good or +honourable, but only with opinion about them, and that from opinion comes +persuasion, and not from the truth. + +SOCRATES: The words of the wise are not to be set aside; for there is +probably something in them; and therefore the meaning of this saying is not +hastily to be dismissed. + +PHAEDRUS: Very true. + +SOCRATES: Let us put the matter thus:--Suppose that I persuaded you to buy +a horse and go to the wars. Neither of us knew what a horse was like, but +I knew that you believed a horse to be of tame animals the one which has +the longest ears. + +PHAEDRUS: That would be ridiculous. + +SOCRATES: There is something more ridiculous coming:--Suppose, further, +that in sober earnest I, having persuaded you of this, went and composed a +speech in honour of an ass, whom I entitled a horse beginning: 'A noble +animal and a most useful possession, especially in war, and you may get on +his back and fight, and he will carry baggage or anything.' + +PHAEDRUS: How ridiculous! + +SOCRATES: Ridiculous! Yes; but is not even a ridiculous friend better +than a cunning enemy? + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: And when the orator instead of putting an ass in the place of a +horse, puts good for evil, being himself as ignorant of their true nature +as the city on which he imposes is ignorant; and having studied the notions +of the multitude, falsely persuades them not about 'the shadow of an ass,' +which he confounds with a horse, but about good which he confounds with +evil,--what will be the harvest which rhetoric will be likely to gather +after the sowing of that seed? + +PHAEDRUS: The reverse of good. + +SOCRATES: But perhaps rhetoric has been getting too roughly handled by us, +and she might answer: What amazing nonsense you are talking! As if I +forced any man to learn to speak in ignorance of the truth! Whatever my +advice may be worth, I should have told him to arrive at the truth first, +and then come to me. At the same time I boldly assert that mere knowledge +of the truth will not give you the art of persuasion. + +PHAEDRUS: There is reason in the lady's defence of herself. + +SOCRATES: Quite true; if only the other arguments which remain to be +brought up bear her witness that she is an art at all. But I seem to hear +them arraying themselves on the opposite side, declaring that she speaks +falsely, and that rhetoric is a mere routine and trick, not an art. Lo! a +Spartan appears, and says that there never is nor ever will be a real art +of speaking which is divorced from the truth. + +PHAEDRUS: And what are these arguments, Socrates? Bring them out that we +may examine them. + +SOCRATES: Come out, fair children, and convince Phaedrus, who is the +father of similar beauties, that he will never be able to speak about +anything as he ought to speak unless he have a knowledge of philosophy. +And let Phaedrus answer you. + +PHAEDRUS: Put the question. + +SOCRATES: Is not rhetoric, taken generally, a universal art of enchanting +the mind by arguments; which is practised not only in courts and public +assemblies, but in private houses also, having to do with all matters, +great as well as small, good and bad alike, and is in all equally right, +and equally to be esteemed--that is what you have heard? + +PHAEDRUS: Nay, not exactly that; I should say rather that I have heard the +art confined to speaking and writing in lawsuits, and to speaking in public +assemblies--not extended farther. + +SOCRATES: Then I suppose that you have only heard of the rhetoric of +Nestor and Odysseus, which they composed in their leisure hours when at +Troy, and never of the rhetoric of Palamedes? + +PHAEDRUS: No more than of Nestor and Odysseus, unless Gorgias is your +Nestor, and Thrasymachus or Theodorus your Odysseus. + +SOCRATES: Perhaps that is my meaning. But let us leave them. And do you +tell me, instead, what are plaintiff and defendant doing in a law court-- +are they not contending? + +PHAEDRUS: Exactly so. + +SOCRATES: About the just and unjust--that is the matter in dispute? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes. + +SOCRATES: And a professor of the art will make the same thing appear to +the same persons to be at one time just, at another time, if he is so +inclined, to be unjust? + +PHAEDRUS: Exactly. + +SOCRATES: And when he speaks in the assembly, he will make the same things +seem good to the city at one time, and at another time the reverse of good? + +PHAEDRUS: That is true. + +SOCRATES: Have we not heard of the Eleatic Palamedes (Zeno), who has an +art of speaking by which he makes the same things appear to his hearers +like and unlike, one and many, at rest and in motion? + +PHAEDRUS: Very true. + +SOCRATES: The art of disputation, then, is not confined to the courts and +the assembly, but is one and the same in every use of language; this is the +art, if there be such an art, which is able to find a likeness of +everything to which a likeness can be found, and draws into the light of +day the likenesses and disguises which are used by others? + +PHAEDRUS: How do you mean? + +SOCRATES: Let me put the matter thus: When will there be more chance of +deception--when the difference is large or small? + +PHAEDRUS: When the difference is small. + +SOCRATES: And you will be less likely to be discovered in passing by +degrees into the other extreme than when you go all at once? + +PHAEDRUS: Of course. + +SOCRATES: He, then, who would deceive others, and not be deceived, must +exactly know the real likenesses and differences of things? + +PHAEDRUS: He must. + +SOCRATES: And if he is ignorant of the true nature of any subject, how can +he detect the greater or less degree of likeness in other things to that of +which by the hypothesis he is ignorant? + +PHAEDRUS: He cannot. + +SOCRATES: And when men are deceived and their notions are at variance with +realities, it is clear that the error slips in through resemblances? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, that is the way. + +SOCRATES: Then he who would be a master of the art must understand the +real nature of everything; or he will never know either how to make the +gradual departure from truth into the opposite of truth which is effected +by the help of resemblances, or how to avoid it? + +PHAEDRUS: He will not. + +SOCRATES: He then, who being ignorant of the truth aims at appearances, +will only attain an art of rhetoric which is ridiculous and is not an art +at all? + +PHAEDRUS: That may be expected. + +SOCRATES: Shall I propose that we look for examples of art and want of +art, according to our notion of them, in the speech of Lysias which you +have in your hand, and in my own speech? + +PHAEDRUS: Nothing could be better; and indeed I think that our previous +argument has been too abstract and wanting in illustrations. + +SOCRATES: Yes; and the two speeches happen to afford a very good example +of the way in which the speaker who knows the truth may, without any +serious purpose, steal away the hearts of his hearers. This piece of good- +fortune I attribute to the local deities; and, perhaps, the prophets of the +Muses who are singing over our heads may have imparted their inspiration to +me. For I do not imagine that I have any rhetorical art of my own. + +PHAEDRUS: Granted; if you will only please to get on. + +SOCRATES: Suppose that you read me the first words of Lysias' speech. + +PHAEDRUS: 'You know how matters stand with me, and how, as I conceive, +they might be arranged for our common interest; and I maintain that I ought +not to fail in my suit, because I am not your lover. For lovers repent--' + +SOCRATES: Enough:--Now, shall I point out the rhetorical error of those +words? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes. + +SOCRATES: Every one is aware that about some things we are agreed, whereas +about other things we differ. + +PHAEDRUS: I think that I understand you; but will you explain yourself? + +SOCRATES: When any one speaks of iron and silver, is not the same thing +present in the minds of all? + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: But when any one speaks of justice and goodness we part company +and are at odds with one another and with ourselves? + +PHAEDRUS: Precisely. + +SOCRATES: Then in some things we agree, but not in others? + +PHAEDRUS: That is true. + +SOCRATES: In which are we more likely to be deceived, and in which has +rhetoric the greater power? + +PHAEDRUS: Clearly, in the uncertain class. + +SOCRATES: Then the rhetorician ought to make a regular division, and +acquire a distinct notion of both classes, as well of that in which the +many err, as of that in which they do not err? + +PHAEDRUS: He who made such a distinction would have an excellent +principle. + +SOCRATES: Yes; and in the next place he must have a keen eye for the +observation of particulars in speaking, and not make a mistake about the +class to which they are to be referred. + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: Now to which class does love belong--to the debatable or to the +undisputed class? + +PHAEDRUS: To the debatable, clearly; for if not, do you think that love +would have allowed you to say as you did, that he is an evil both to the +lover and the beloved, and also the greatest possible good? + +SOCRATES: Capital. But will you tell me whether I defined love at the +beginning of my speech? for, having been in an ecstasy, I cannot well +remember. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, indeed; that you did, and no mistake. + +SOCRATES: Then I perceive that the Nymphs of Achelous and Pan the son of +Hermes, who inspired me, were far better rhetoricians than Lysias the son +of Cephalus. Alas! how inferior to them he is! But perhaps I am mistaken; +and Lysias at the commencement of his lover's speech did insist on our +supposing love to be something or other which he fancied him to be, and +according to this model he fashioned and framed the remainder of his +discourse. Suppose we read his beginning over again: + +PHAEDRUS: If you please; but you will not find what you want. + +SOCRATES: Read, that I may have his exact words. + +PHAEDRUS: 'You know how matters stand with me, and how, as I conceive, +they might be arranged for our common interest; and I maintain I ought not +to fail in my suit because I am not your lover, for lovers repent of the +kindnesses which they have shown, when their love is over.' + +SOCRATES: Here he appears to have done just the reverse of what he ought; +for he has begun at the end, and is swimming on his back through the flood +to the place of starting. His address to the fair youth begins where the +lover would have ended. Am I not right, sweet Phaedrus? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, indeed, Socrates; he does begin at the end. + +SOCRATES: Then as to the other topics--are they not thrown down anyhow? +Is there any principle in them? Why should the next topic follow next in +order, or any other topic? I cannot help fancying in my ignorance that he +wrote off boldly just what came into his head, but I dare say that you +would recognize a rhetorical necessity in the succession of the several +parts of the composition? + +PHAEDRUS: You have too good an opinion of me if you think that I have any +such insight into his principles of composition. + +SOCRATES: At any rate, you will allow that every discourse ought to be a +living creature, having a body of its own and a head and feet; there should +be a middle, beginning, and end, adapted to one another and to the whole? + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: Can this be said of the discourse of Lysias? See whether you +can find any more connexion in his words than in the epitaph which is said +by some to have been inscribed on the grave of Midas the Phrygian. + +PHAEDRUS: What is there remarkable in the epitaph? + +SOCRATES: It is as follows:-- + +'I am a maiden of bronze and lie on the tomb of Midas; +So long as water flows and tall trees grow, +So long here on this spot by his sad tomb abiding, +I shall declare to passers-by that Midas sleeps below.' + +Now in this rhyme whether a line comes first or comes last, as you will +perceive, makes no difference. + +PHAEDRUS: You are making fun of that oration of ours. + +SOCRATES: Well, I will say no more about your friend's speech lest I +should give offence to you; although I think that it might furnish many +other examples of what a man ought rather to avoid. But I will proceed to +the other speech, which, as I think, is also suggestive to students of +rhetoric. + +PHAEDRUS: In what way? + +SOCRATES: The two speeches, as you may remember, were unlike; the one +argued that the lover and the other that the non-lover ought to be +accepted. + +PHAEDRUS: And right manfully. + +SOCRATES: You should rather say 'madly;' and madness was the argument of +them, for, as I said, 'love is a madness.' + +PHAEDRUS: Yes. + +SOCRATES: And of madness there were two kinds; one produced by human +infirmity, the other was a divine release of the soul from the yoke of +custom and convention. + +PHAEDRUS: True. + +SOCRATES: The divine madness was subdivided into four kinds, prophetic, +initiatory, poetic, erotic, having four gods presiding over them; the first +was the inspiration of Apollo, the second that of Dionysus, the third that +of the Muses, the fourth that of Aphrodite and Eros. In the description of +the last kind of madness, which was also said to be the best, we spoke of +the affection of love in a figure, into which we introduced a tolerably +credible and possibly true though partly erring myth, which was also a hymn +in honour of Love, who is your lord and also mine, Phaedrus, and the +guardian of fair children, and to him we sung the hymn in measured and +solemn strain. + +PHAEDRUS: I know that I had great pleasure in listening to you. + +SOCRATES: Let us take this instance and note how the transition was made +from blame to praise. + +PHAEDRUS: What do you mean? + +SOCRATES: I mean to say that the composition was mostly playful. Yet in +these chance fancies of the hour were involved two principles of which we +should be too glad to have a clearer description if art could give us one. + +PHAEDRUS: What are they? + +SOCRATES: First, the comprehension of scattered particulars in one idea; +as in our definition of love, which whether true or false certainly gave +clearness and consistency to the discourse, the speaker should define his +several notions and so make his meaning clear. + +PHAEDRUS: What is the other principle, Socrates? + +SOCRATES: The second principle is that of division into species according +to the natural formation, where the joint is, not breaking any part as a +bad carver might. Just as our two discourses, alike assumed, first of all, +a single form of unreason; and then, as the body which from being one +becomes double and may be divided into a left side and right side, each +having parts right and left of the same name--after this manner the speaker +proceeded to divide the parts of the left side and did not desist until he +found in them an evil or left-handed love which he justly reviled; and the +other discourse leading us to the madness which lay on the right side, +found another love, also having the same name, but divine, which the +speaker held up before us and applauded and affirmed to be the author of +the greatest benefits. + +PHAEDRUS: Most true. + +SOCRATES: I am myself a great lover of these processes of division and +generalization; they help me to speak and to think. And if I find any man +who is able to see 'a One and Many' in nature, him I follow, and 'walk in +his footsteps as if he were a god.' And those who have this art, I have +hitherto been in the habit of calling dialecticians; but God knows whether +the name is right or not. And I should like to know what name you would +give to your or to Lysias' disciples, and whether this may not be that +famous art of rhetoric which Thrasymachus and others teach and practise? +Skilful speakers they are, and impart their skill to any who is willing to +make kings of them and to bring gifts to them. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, they are royal men; but their art is not the same with the +art of those whom you call, and rightly, in my opinion, dialecticians:-- +Still we are in the dark about rhetoric. + +SOCRATES: What do you mean? The remains of it, if there be anything +remaining which can be brought under rules of art, must be a fine thing; +and, at any rate, is not to be despised by you and me. But how much is +left? + +PHAEDRUS: There is a great deal surely to be found in books of rhetoric? + +SOCRATES: Yes; thank you for reminding me:--There is the exordium, showing +how the speech should begin, if I remember rightly; that is what you mean-- +the niceties of the art? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes. + +SOCRATES: Then follows the statement of facts, and upon that witnesses; +thirdly, proofs; fourthly, probabilities are to come; the great Byzantian +word-maker also speaks, if I am not mistaken, of confirmation and further +confirmation. + +PHAEDRUS: You mean the excellent Theodorus. + +SOCRATES: Yes; and he tells how refutation or further refutation is to be +managed, whether in accusation or defence. I ought also to mention the +illustrious Parian, Evenus, who first invented insinuations and indirect +praises; and also indirect censures, which according to some he put into +verse to help the memory. But shall I 'to dumb forgetfulness consign' +Tisias and Gorgias, who are not ignorant that probability is superior to +truth, and who by force of argument make the little appear great and the +great little, disguise the new in old fashions and the old in new fashions, +and have discovered forms for everything, either short or going on to +infinity. I remember Prodicus laughing when I told him of this; he said +that he had himself discovered the true rule of art, which was to be +neither long nor short, but of a convenient length. + +PHAEDRUS: Well done, Prodicus! + +SOCRATES: Then there is Hippias the Elean stranger, who probably agrees +with him. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes. + +SOCRATES: And there is also Polus, who has treasuries of diplasiology, and +gnomology, and eikonology, and who teaches in them the names of which +Licymnius made him a present; they were to give a polish. + +PHAEDRUS: Had not Protagoras something of the same sort? + +SOCRATES: Yes, rules of correct diction and many other fine precepts; for +the 'sorrows of a poor old man,' or any other pathetic case, no one is +better than the Chalcedonian giant; he can put a whole company of people +into a passion and out of one again by his mighty magic, and is first-rate +at inventing or disposing of any sort of calumny on any grounds or none. +All of them agree in asserting that a speech should end in a +recapitulation, though they do not all agree to use the same word. + +PHAEDRUS: You mean that there should be a summing up of the arguments in +order to remind the hearers of them. + +SOCRATES: I have now said all that I have to say of the art of rhetoric: +have you anything to add? + +PHAEDRUS: Not much; nothing very important. + +SOCRATES: Leave the unimportant and let us bring the really important +question into the light of day, which is: What power has this art of +rhetoric, and when? + +PHAEDRUS: A very great power in public meetings. + +SOCRATES: It has. But I should like to know whether you have the same +feeling as I have about the rhetoricians? To me there seem to be a great +many holes in their web. + +PHAEDRUS: Give an example. + +SOCRATES: I will. Suppose a person to come to your friend Eryximachus, or +to his father Acumenus, and to say to him: 'I know how to apply drugs +which shall have either a heating or a cooling effect, and I can give a +vomit and also a purge, and all that sort of thing; and knowing all this, +as I do, I claim to be a physician and to make physicians by imparting this +knowledge to others,'--what do you suppose that they would say? + +PHAEDRUS: They would be sure to ask him whether he knew 'to whom' he would +give his medicines, and 'when,' and 'how much.' + +SOCRATES: And suppose that he were to reply: 'No; I know nothing of all +that; I expect the patient who consults me to be able to do these things +for himself'? + +PHAEDRUS: They would say in reply that he is a madman or a pedant who +fancies that he is a physician because he has read something in a book, or +has stumbled on a prescription or two, although he has no real +understanding of the art of medicine. + +SOCRATES: And suppose a person were to come to Sophocles or Euripides and +say that he knows how to make a very long speech about a small matter, and +a short speech about a great matter, and also a sorrowful speech, or a +terrible, or threatening speech, or any other kind of speech, and in +teaching this fancies that he is teaching the art of tragedy--? + +PHAEDRUS: They too would surely laugh at him if he fancies that tragedy is +anything but the arranging of these elements in a manner which will be +suitable to one another and to the whole. + +SOCRATES: But I do not suppose that they would be rude or abusive to him: +Would they not treat him as a musician a man who thinks that he is a +harmonist because he knows how to pitch the highest and lowest note; +happening to meet such an one he would not say to him savagely, 'Fool, you +are mad!' But like a musician, in a gentle and harmonious tone of voice, +he would answer: 'My good friend, he who would be a harmonist must +certainly know this, and yet he may understand nothing of harmony if he has +not got beyond your stage of knowledge, for you only know the preliminaries +of harmony and not harmony itself.' + +PHAEDRUS: Very true. + +SOCRATES: And will not Sophocles say to the display of the would-be +tragedian, that this is not tragedy but the preliminaries of tragedy? and +will not Acumenus say the same of medicine to the would-be physician? + +PHAEDRUS: Quite true. + +SOCRATES: And if Adrastus the mellifluous or Pericles heard of these +wonderful arts, brachylogies and eikonologies and all the hard names which +we have been endeavouring to draw into the light of day, what would they +say? Instead of losing temper and applying uncomplimentary epithets, as +you and I have been doing, to the authors of such an imaginary art, their +superior wisdom would rather censure us, as well as them. 'Have a little +patience, Phaedrus and Socrates, they would say; you should not be in such +a passion with those who from some want of dialectical skill are unable to +define the nature of rhetoric, and consequently suppose that they have +found the art in the preliminary conditions of it, and when these have been +taught by them to others, fancy that the whole art of rhetoric has been +taught by them; but as to using the several instruments of the art +effectively, or making the composition a whole,--an application of it such +as this is they regard as an easy thing which their disciples may make for +themselves.' + +PHAEDRUS: I quite admit, Socrates, that the art of rhetoric which these +men teach and of which they write is such as you describe--there I agree +with you. But I still want to know where and how the true art of rhetoric +and persuasion is to be acquired. + +SOCRATES: The perfection which is required of the finished orator is, or +rather must be, like the perfection of anything else; partly given by +nature, but may also be assisted by art. If you have the natural power and +add to it knowledge and practice, you will be a distinguished speaker; if +you fall short in either of these, you will be to that extent defective. +But the art, as far as there is an art, of rhetoric does not lie in the +direction of Lysias or Thrasymachus. + +PHAEDRUS: In what direction then? + +SOCRATES: I conceive Pericles to have been the most accomplished of +rhetoricians. + +PHAEDRUS: What of that? + +SOCRATES: All the great arts require discussion and high speculation about +the truths of nature; hence come loftiness of thought and completeness of +execution. And this, as I conceive, was the quality which, in addition to +his natural gifts, Pericles acquired from his intercourse with Anaxagoras +whom he happened to know. He was thus imbued with the higher philosophy, +and attained the knowledge of Mind and the negative of Mind, which were +favourite themes of Anaxagoras, and applied what suited his purpose to the +art of speaking. + +PHAEDRUS: Explain. + +SOCRATES: Rhetoric is like medicine. + +PHAEDRUS: How so? + +SOCRATES: Why, because medicine has to define the nature of the body and +rhetoric of the soul--if we would proceed, not empirically but +scientifically, in the one case to impart health and strength by giving +medicine and food, in the other to implant the conviction or virtue which +you desire, by the right application of words and training. + +PHAEDRUS: There, Socrates, I suspect that you are right. + +SOCRATES: And do you think that you can know the nature of the soul +intelligently without knowing the nature of the whole? + +PHAEDRUS: Hippocrates the Asclepiad says that the nature even of the body +can only be understood as a whole. (Compare Charmides.) + +SOCRATES: Yes, friend, and he was right:--still, we ought not to be +content with the name of Hippocrates, but to examine and see whether his +argument agrees with his conception of nature. + +PHAEDRUS: I agree. + +SOCRATES: Then consider what truth as well as Hippocrates says about this +or about any other nature. Ought we not to consider first whether that +which we wish to learn and to teach is a simple or multiform thing, and if +simple, then to enquire what power it has of acting or being acted upon in +relation to other things, and if multiform, then to number the forms; and +see first in the case of one of them, and then in the case of all of them, +what is that power of acting or being acted upon which makes each and all +of them to be what they are? + +PHAEDRUS: You may very likely be right, Socrates. + +SOCRATES: The method which proceeds without analysis is like the groping +of a blind man. Yet, surely, he who is an artist ought not to admit of a +comparison with the blind, or deaf. The rhetorician, who teaches his pupil +to speak scientifically, will particularly set forth the nature of that +being to which he addresses his speeches; and this, I conceive, to be the +soul. + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: His whole effort is directed to the soul; for in that he seeks +to produce conviction. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes. + +SOCRATES: Then clearly, Thrasymachus or any one else who teaches rhetoric +in earnest will give an exact description of the nature of the soul; which +will enable us to see whether she be single and same, or, like the body, +multiform. That is what we should call showing the nature of the soul. + +PHAEDRUS: Exactly. + +SOCRATES: He will explain, secondly, the mode in which she acts or is +acted upon. + +PHAEDRUS: True. + +SOCRATES: Thirdly, having classified men and speeches, and their kinds and +affections, and adapted them to one another, he will tell the reasons of +his arrangement, and show why one soul is persuaded by a particular form of +argument, and another not. + +PHAEDRUS: You have hit upon a very good way. + +SOCRATES: Yes, that is the true and only way in which any subject can be +set forth or treated by rules of art, whether in speaking or writing. But +the writers of the present day, at whose feet you have sat, craftily +conceal the nature of the soul which they know quite well. Nor, until they +adopt our method of reading and writing, can we admit that they write by +rules of art? + +PHAEDRUS: What is our method? + +SOCRATES: I cannot give you the exact details; but I should like to tell +you generally, as far as is in my power, how a man ought to proceed +according to rules of art. + +PHAEDRUS: Let me hear. + +SOCRATES: Oratory is the art of enchanting the soul, and therefore he who +would be an orator has to learn the differences of human souls--they are so +many and of such a nature, and from them come the differences between man +and man. Having proceeded thus far in his analysis, he will next divide +speeches into their different classes:--'Such and such persons,' he will +say, are affected by this or that kind of speech in this or that way,' and +he will tell you why. The pupil must have a good theoretical notion of +them first, and then he must have experience of them in actual life, and be +able to follow them with all his senses about him, or he will never get +beyond the precepts of his masters. But when he understands what persons +are persuaded by what arguments, and sees the person about whom he was +speaking in the abstract actually before him, and knows that it is he, and +can say to himself, 'This is the man or this is the character who ought to +have a certain argument applied to him in order to convince him of a +certain opinion;'--he who knows all this, and knows also when he should +speak and when he should refrain, and when he should use pithy sayings, +pathetic appeals, sensational effects, and all the other modes of speech +which he has learned;--when, I say, he knows the times and seasons of all +these things, then, and not till then, he is a perfect master of his art; +but if he fail in any of these points, whether in speaking or teaching or +writing them, and yet declares that he speaks by rules of art, he who says +'I don't believe you' has the better of him. Well, the teacher will say, +is this, Phaedrus and Socrates, your account of the so-called art of +rhetoric, or am I to look for another? + +PHAEDRUS: He must take this, Socrates, for there is no possibility of +another, and yet the creation of such an art is not easy. + +SOCRATES: Very true; and therefore let us consider this matter in every +light, and see whether we cannot find a shorter and easier road; there is +no use in taking a long rough roundabout way if there be a shorter and +easier one. And I wish that you would try and remember whether you have +heard from Lysias or any one else anything which might be of service to us. + +PHAEDRUS: If trying would avail, then I might; but at the moment I can +think of nothing. + +SOCRATES: Suppose I tell you something which somebody who knows told me. + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: May not 'the wolf,' as the proverb says, 'claim a hearing'? + +PHAEDRUS: Do you say what can be said for him. + +SOCRATES: He will argue that there is no use in putting a solemn face on +these matters, or in going round and round, until you arrive at first +principles; for, as I said at first, when the question is of justice and +good, or is a question in which men are concerned who are just and good, +either by nature or habit, he who would be a skilful rhetorician has no +need of truth--for that in courts of law men literally care nothing about +truth, but only about conviction: and this is based on probability, to +which he who would be a skilful orator should therefore give his whole +attention. And they say also that there are cases in which the actual +facts, if they are improbable, ought to be withheld, and only the +probabilities should be told either in accusation or defence, and that +always in speaking, the orator should keep probability in view, and say +good-bye to the truth. And the observance of this principle throughout a +speech furnishes the whole art. + +PHAEDRUS: That is what the professors of rhetoric do actually say, +Socrates. I have not forgotten that we have quite briefly touched upon +this matter already; with them the point is all-important. + +SOCRATES: I dare say that you are familiar with Tisias. Does he not +define probability to be that which the many think? + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly, he does. + +SOCRATES: I believe that he has a clever and ingenious case of this sort: +--He supposes a feeble and valiant man to have assaulted a strong and +cowardly one, and to have robbed him of his coat or of something or other; +he is brought into court, and then Tisias says that both parties should +tell lies: the coward should say that he was assaulted by more men than +one; the other should prove that they were alone, and should argue thus: +'How could a weak man like me have assaulted a strong man like him?' The +complainant will not like to confess his own cowardice, and will therefore +invent some other lie which his adversary will thus gain an opportunity of +refuting. And there are other devices of the same kind which have a place +in the system. Am I not right, Phaedrus? + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: Bless me, what a wonderfully mysterious art is this which Tisias +or some other gentleman, in whatever name or country he rejoices, has +discovered. Shall we say a word to him or not? + +PHAEDRUS: What shall we say to him? + +SOCRATES: Let us tell him that, before he appeared, you and I were saying +that the probability of which he speaks was engendered in the minds of the +many by the likeness of the truth, and we had just been affirming that he +who knew the truth would always know best how to discover the resemblances +of the truth. If he has anything else to say about the art of speaking we +should like to hear him; but if not, we are satisfied with our own view, +that unless a man estimates the various characters of his hearers and is +able to divide all things into classes and to comprehend them under single +ideas, he will never be a skilful rhetorician even within the limits of +human power. And this skill he will not attain without a great deal of +trouble, which a good man ought to undergo, not for the sake of speaking +and acting before men, but in order that he may be able to say what is +acceptable to God and always to act acceptably to Him as far as in him +lies; for there is a saying of wiser men than ourselves, that a man of +sense should not try to please his fellow-servants (at least this should +not be his first object) but his good and noble masters; and therefore if +the way is long and circuitous, marvel not at this, for, where the end is +great, there we may take the longer road, but not for lesser ends such as +yours. Truly, the argument may say, Tisias, that if you do not mind going +so far, rhetoric has a fair beginning here. + +PHAEDRUS: I think, Socrates, that this is admirable, if only practicable. + +SOCRATES: But even to fail in an honourable object is honourable. + +PHAEDRUS: True. + +SOCRATES: Enough appears to have been said by us of a true and false art +of speaking. + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: But there is something yet to be said of propriety and +impropriety of writing. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes. + +SOCRATES: Do you know how you can speak or act about rhetoric in a manner +which will be acceptable to God? + +PHAEDRUS: No, indeed. Do you? + +SOCRATES: I have heard a tradition of the ancients, whether true or not +they only know; although if we had found the truth ourselves, do you think +that we should care much about the opinions of men? + +PHAEDRUS: Your question needs no answer; but I wish that you would tell me +what you say that you have heard. + +SOCRATES: At the Egyptian city of Naucratis, there was a famous old god, +whose name was Theuth; the bird which is called the Ibis is sacred to him, +and he was the inventor of many arts, such as arithmetic and calculation +and geometry and astronomy and draughts and dice, but his great discovery +was the use of letters. Now in those days the god Thamus was the king of +the whole country of Egypt; and he dwelt in that great city of Upper Egypt +which the Hellenes call Egyptian Thebes, and the god himself is called by +them Ammon. To him came Theuth and showed his inventions, desiring that +the other Egyptians might be allowed to have the benefit of them; he +enumerated them, and Thamus enquired about their several uses, and praised +some of them and censured others, as he approved or disapproved of them. +It would take a long time to repeat all that Thamus said to Theuth in +praise or blame of the various arts. But when they came to letters, This, +said Theuth, will make the Egyptians wiser and give them better memories; +it is a specific both for the memory and for the wit. Thamus replied: O +most ingenious Theuth, the parent or inventor of an art is not always the +best judge of the utility or inutility of his own inventions to the users +of them. And in this instance, you who are the father of letters, from a +paternal love of your own children have been led to attribute to them a +quality which they cannot have; for this discovery of yours will create +forgetfulness in the learners' souls, because they will not use their +memories; they will trust to the external written characters and not +remember of themselves. The specific which you have discovered is an aid +not to memory, but to reminiscence, and you give your disciples not truth, +but only the semblance of truth; they will be hearers of many things and +will have learned nothing; they will appear to be omniscient and will +generally know nothing; they will be tiresome company, having the show of +wisdom without the reality. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, Socrates, you can easily invent tales of Egypt, or of any +other country. + +SOCRATES: There was a tradition in the temple of Dodona that oaks first +gave prophetic utterances. The men of old, unlike in their simplicity to +young philosophy, deemed that if they heard the truth even from 'oak or +rock,' it was enough for them; whereas you seem to consider not whether a +thing is or is not true, but who the speaker is and from what country the +tale comes. + +PHAEDRUS: I acknowledge the justice of your rebuke; and I think that the +Theban is right in his view about letters. + +SOCRATES: He would be a very simple person, and quite a stranger to the +oracles of Thamus or Ammon, who should leave in writing or receive in +writing any art under the idea that the written word would be intelligible +or certain; or who deemed that writing was at all better than knowledge and +recollection of the same matters? + +PHAEDRUS: That is most true. + +SOCRATES: I cannot help feeling, Phaedrus, that writing is unfortunately +like painting; for the creations of the painter have the attitude of life, +and yet if you ask them a question they preserve a solemn silence. And the +same may be said of speeches. You would imagine that they had +intelligence, but if you want to know anything and put a question to one of +them, the speaker always gives one unvarying answer. And when they have +been once written down they are tumbled about anywhere among those who may +or may not understand them, and know not to whom they should reply, to whom +not: and, if they are maltreated or abused, they have no parent to protect +them; and they cannot protect or defend themselves. + +PHAEDRUS: That again is most true. + +SOCRATES: Is there not another kind of word or speech far better than +this, and having far greater power--a son of the same family, but lawfully +begotten? + +PHAEDRUS: Whom do you mean, and what is his origin? + +SOCRATES: I mean an intelligent word graven in the soul of the learner, +which can defend itself, and knows when to speak and when to be silent. + +PHAEDRUS: You mean the living word of knowledge which has a soul, and of +which the written word is properly no more than an image? + +SOCRATES: Yes, of course that is what I mean. And now may I be allowed to +ask you a question: Would a husbandman, who is a man of sense, take the +seeds, which he values and which he wishes to bear fruit, and in sober +seriousness plant them during the heat of summer, in some garden of Adonis, +that he may rejoice when he sees them in eight days appearing in beauty? at +least he would do so, if at all, only for the sake of amusement and +pastime. But when he is in earnest he sows in fitting soil, and practises +husbandry, and is satisfied if in eight months the seeds which he has sown +arrive at perfection? + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, Socrates, that will be his way when he is in earnest; he +will do the other, as you say, only in play. + +SOCRATES: And can we suppose that he who knows the just and good and +honourable has less understanding, than the husbandman, about his own +seeds? + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly not. + +SOCRATES: Then he will not seriously incline to 'write' his thoughts 'in +water' with pen and ink, sowing words which can neither speak for +themselves nor teach the truth adequately to others? + +PHAEDRUS: No, that is not likely. + +SOCRATES: No, that is not likely--in the garden of letters he will sow and +plant, but only for the sake of recreation and amusement; he will write +them down as memorials to be treasured against the forgetfulness of old +age, by himself, or by any other old man who is treading the same path. He +will rejoice in beholding their tender growth; and while others are +refreshing their souls with banqueting and the like, this will be the +pastime in which his days are spent. + +PHAEDRUS: A pastime, Socrates, as noble as the other is ignoble, the +pastime of a man who can be amused by serious talk, and can discourse +merrily about justice and the like. + +SOCRATES: True, Phaedrus. But nobler far is the serious pursuit of the +dialectician, who, finding a congenial soul, by the help of science sows +and plants therein words which are able to help themselves and him who +planted them, and are not unfruitful, but have in them a seed which others +brought up in different soils render immortal, making the possessors of it +happy to the utmost extent of human happiness. + +PHAEDRUS: Far nobler, certainly. + +SOCRATES: And now, Phaedrus, having agreed upon the premises we may decide +about the conclusion. + +PHAEDRUS: About what conclusion? + +SOCRATES: About Lysias, whom we censured, and his art of writing, and his +discourses, and the rhetorical skill or want of skill which was shown in +them--these are the questions which we sought to determine, and they +brought us to this point. And I think that we are now pretty well informed +about the nature of art and its opposite. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, I think with you; but I wish that you would repeat what was +said. + +SOCRATES: Until a man knows the truth of the several particulars of which +he is writing or speaking, and is able to define them as they are, and +having defined them again to divide them until they can be no longer +divided, and until in like manner he is able to discern the nature of the +soul, and discover the different modes of discourse which are adapted to +different natures, and to arrange and dispose them in such a way that the +simple form of speech may be addressed to the simpler nature, and the +complex and composite to the more complex nature--until he has accomplished +all this, he will be unable to handle arguments according to rules of art, +as far as their nature allows them to be subjected to art, either for the +purpose of teaching or persuading;--such is the view which is implied in +the whole preceding argument. + +PHAEDRUS: Yes, that was our view, certainly. + +SOCRATES: Secondly, as to the censure which was passed on the speaking or +writing of discourses, and how they might be rightly or wrongly censured-- +did not our previous argument show--? + +PHAEDRUS: Show what? + +SOCRATES: That whether Lysias or any other writer that ever was or will +be, whether private man or statesman, proposes laws and so becomes the +author of a political treatise, fancying that there is any great certainty +and clearness in his performance, the fact of his so writing is only a +disgrace to him, whatever men may say. For not to know the nature of +justice and injustice, and good and evil, and not to be able to distinguish +the dream from the reality, cannot in truth be otherwise than disgraceful +to him, even though he have the applause of the whole world. + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: But he who thinks that in the written word there is necessarily +much which is not serious, and that neither poetry nor prose, spoken or +written, is of any great value, if, like the compositions of the rhapsodes, +they are only recited in order to be believed, and not with any view to +criticism or instruction; and who thinks that even the best of writings are +but a reminiscence of what we know, and that only in principles of justice +and goodness and nobility taught and communicated orally for the sake of +instruction and graven in the soul, which is the true way of writing, is +there clearness and perfection and seriousness, and that such principles +are a man's own and his legitimate offspring;--being, in the first place, +the word which he finds in his own bosom; secondly, the brethren and +descendants and relations of his idea which have been duly implanted by him +in the souls of others;--and who cares for them and no others--this is the +right sort of man; and you and I, Phaedrus, would pray that we may become +like him. + +PHAEDRUS: That is most assuredly my desire and prayer. + +SOCRATES: And now the play is played out; and of rhetoric enough. Go and +tell Lysias that to the fountain and school of the Nymphs we went down, and +were bidden by them to convey a message to him and to other composers of +speeches--to Homer and other writers of poems, whether set to music or not; +and to Solon and others who have composed writings in the form of political +discourses which they would term laws--to all of them we are to say that if +their compositions are based on knowledge of the truth, and they can defend +or prove them, when they are put to the test, by spoken arguments, which +leave their writings poor in comparison of them, then they are to be +called, not only poets, orators, legislators, but are worthy of a higher +name, befitting the serious pursuit of their life. + +PHAEDRUS: What name would you assign to them? + +SOCRATES: Wise, I may not call them; for that is a great name which +belongs to God alone,--lovers of wisdom or philosophers is their modest and +befitting title. + +PHAEDRUS: Very suitable. + +SOCRATES: And he who cannot rise above his own compilations and +compositions, which he has been long patching and piecing, adding some and +taking away some, may be justly called poet or speech-maker or law-maker. + +PHAEDRUS: Certainly. + +SOCRATES: Now go and tell this to your companion. + +PHAEDRUS: But there is also a friend of yours who ought not to be +forgotten. + +SOCRATES: Who is he? + +PHAEDRUS: Isocrates the fair:--What message will you send to him, and how +shall we describe him? + +SOCRATES: Isocrates is still young, Phaedrus; but I am willing to hazard a +prophecy concerning him. + +PHAEDRUS: What would you prophesy? + +SOCRATES: I think that he has a genius which soars above the orations of +Lysias, and that his character is cast in a finer mould. My impression of +him is that he will marvellously improve as he grows older, and that all +former rhetoricians will be as children in comparison of him. And I +believe that he will not be satisfied with rhetoric, but that there is in +him a divine inspiration which will lead him to things higher still. For +he has an element of philosophy in his nature. This is the message of the +gods dwelling in this place, and which I will myself deliver to Isocrates, +who is my delight; and do you give the other to Lysias, who is yours. + +PHAEDRUS: I will; and now as the heat is abated let us depart. + +SOCRATES: Should we not offer up a prayer first of all to the local +deities? + +PHAEDRUS: By all means. + +SOCRATES: Beloved Pan, and all ye other gods who haunt this place, give me +beauty in the inward soul; and may the outward and inward man be at one. +May I reckon the wise to be the wealthy, and may I have such a quantity of +gold as a temperate man and he only can bear and carry.--Anything more? +The prayer, I think, is enough for me. + +PHAEDRUS: Ask the same for me, for friends should have all things in +common. + +SOCRATES: Let us go. + + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Phaedrus, by Plato + diff --git a/old/phdrs10.zip b/old/phdrs10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..28ee51e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/phdrs10.zip |