PHÆDRUS. (continued 2)

Phæ. Will she not speak justly, in asserting this?

95. Socr. I admit it, at least if the arguments that assail her testify that she is an art. For I think I have heard some arguments coming up and insisting that she lies and is not an art, but an inartistic trick. But a genuine art of speaking, says the Spartan, without laying hold of truth, neither exists, nor ever can exist hereafter.

Phæ. We must have these arguments, Socrates; so bring them forward and examine what they say, and in what manner.

Socr. Come hither then, ye noble creatures, and persuade Phædrus with the beautiful children, that, unless he has sufficiently studied philosophy, he will never be competent to speak on any subject whatever. Let Phædrus answer then.

Phæ. Put your questions.

Socr. Must not then rhetoric in general be an art that leads the soul by means of argument, not only in courts of justice, and other public assemblies, but also in private, equally with respect to trivial and important matters? and is its right use at all more valued when employed about grave than about trifling things? What have you heard said about this?

96. Phæ. By Jupiter, nothing at all of this kind; but it is for the most part spoken and written according to art in judicial trials, and it is spoken also in popular assemblies; but I have never heard any thing further.

Socr. What, have you heard only of the rhetorical arts of 339Nestor and Ulysses, which they composed during their leisure in Ilium, and have you never heard of those by Palamedes?

Phæ. And, by Jupiter, I have not even heard of those by Nestor, unless you make Gorgias a Nestor, or Thrasymachus and Theodorus a Ulysses.

Socr. Perhaps I do. But let us pass over these; do you say however; in courts of justice what do adversaries do? do they not contradict each other? or what shall we say?

Phæ. That very thing.

Socr. And respecting the just and unjust?

Phæ. Yes.

Socr. Will not he, then, who accomplishes this by art, make the same thing appear to the same persons, at one time just, and, when he pleases, unjust?

Phæ. How not?

Socr. And in a popular assembly the same things seem to the state at one time good, and at another the contrary?

Phæ. Just so.

97. Socr. And do we not know that the Eleatic Palamedes^[130] spoke by art in such a manner that the same things appeared to his hearers similar and dissimilar, one and many, at rest and in motion?

Phæ. Assuredly.

Socr. The art, then, of arguing on both sides has not only to do with courts of justice and popular assemblies, but as it seems, it must be one and the same art, if it is an art, with respect to all subjects of discourse, by which a man is able to make all things appear similar to each other so far as they are capable of being made appear so, and to drag them to light, when another attempts to make them appear similar and conceals his attempt.

Phæ. What mean you by this?

Socr. I think it will be evident if we enquire as follows: Does deception more frequently occur in things that differ much or little?

Phæ. In things that differ little.

Socr. But by changing your position gradually, you will more easily escape detection in going to the opposite side, than by doing so rapidly.

34098. Phæ. How not?

Socr. It is necessary, then, that he who means to deceive another, but not be deceived himself, should be able to distinguish with accuracy the similarity and dissimilarity of things.

Phæ. It is indeed necessary.

Socr. Will he be able, then, if ignorant of the truth of each particular thing, to discern the smaller or greater similarity of the thing of which he is ignorant, in other things?

Phæ. Impossible.

Socr. It is clear, therefore, that in the case of those who have formed opinions contrary to the truth and are deceived, this error has found its way in by means of certain resemblances.

99. Phæ. It doubtlessly does happen so.

Socr. Is it possible, then, that one, who is ignorant of what is the nature of each particular thing, should have sufficient art to bring over any one by degrees by leading him through means of resemblances, from each several truth to its opposite, or himself to escape from being so led?

Phæ. Never.

Socr. He therefore, my friend, who does not know the truth, but hunts after opinions, will, as it appears, produce but a ridiculous and inartistic art of speaking.

Phæ. It seems so.

Socr. Are you willing, then, in the speech of Lysias, which you have with you, and in those which I delivered, to look for instances of what I assert is inartistic and artistic?

Phæ. I should like it of all things; for now we are speaking in a bald sort of way, for want of sufficient examples.

100. Socr. And, indeed, by some lucky chance, as it seems, two speeches have been made which furnish examples, of how one who is acquainted with the truth, while he is jesting in his arguments, can lead his hearers astray. And for my part, Phædrus, I attribute that to the deities of the spot. Perhaps, also, the interpreters of the Muses, the songsters over head, have inspired us with this gift; for I at least have no part in any art of speaking.

Phæ. Be it as you say, only make your meaning clear.

Socr. Come then, read out to me the beginning of Lysias’s speech.

100. Phæ. “You are well acquainted with the state of my affairs, and I think you have heard that it would be for our 341advantage if this took place. And I claim, not for this reason to fail in my request, because I do not happen to be one of your lovers: for they repent”—

Socr. Stop. We are to say, then, in what he errs, and acts inartistically: are we not?

Phæ. Yes.

Socr. Now is it not plain to every one, that in some things of this kind we are agreed, on others at variance?

Phæ. I think I understand what you mean; but explain yourself still more clearly.

Socr. When any one pronounces the word iron or silver, do we not all understand the same thing?

Phæ. Assuredly.

Socr. But what when any one pronounces the word just, or good? are we not carried different ways, and do we not differ both with one another and with ourselves?

Phæ. Certainly.

Socr. In some things, therefore, we agree, in others not.

Phæ. Just so.

Socr. In which class of things, then, are we more easily deceived? and in which of the two has rhetoric greater power?

Phæ. Clearly in that in which we are easily led astray.

102. Socr. He, therefore, who means to pursue the art of rhetoric, ought first of all to have distinguished these methodically, and to have discovered a certain character of each species, both of that in which the generality of men must necessarily be led astray, and of that in which that is not the case.

Phæ. He who has attained to this, Socrates, will have devised a noble classification of species.

Socr. Then, I think, when he comes to each particular case, he ought not to be at a loss, but should perceive quickly to which of the two classes the subject, on which he is going to speak, belongs.

Phæ. How not?

Socr. What then with respect to Love? shall we say that he belongs to things doubtful, or to such as are not so?

Phæ. To things doubtful, surely; otherwise do you think he would have allowed you to say what you just now said about him, that he is both a mischief to the beloved and the lover, and again, that he is the greatest of blessings?

Socr. You speak admirably. But tell me this too, for from 342being carried away by enthusiasm, I do not quite remember whether I defined love at the beginning of my speech.

Phæ. By Jupiter you did, and with wonderful accuracy.

103. Socr. Alas; how much more artistic in speech-making do you say the nymphs of Acheloüs and Pan son of Mercury are than Lysias son of Cephalus! Or am I wrong, and did Lysias too, in the beginning of his love-speech, compel us to conceive of Love, as some one particular thing, which he wished it to be, and then complete all the rest of his speech in accordance with this? Are you willing that we should read over again the beginning of his speech?

Phæ. If you wish it; though what you seek is not there.

Socr. Read, however, that I may hear him in person.

104. Phæ. “You are well acquainted with the state of my affairs, and I think you have heard, that it would be for our advantage if this took place. And I claim, not for this reason to fail in my request, because I do not happen to be one of your lovers: for they repent of the benefits they have conferred, as soon as their desires cease.”

Socr. He seems to be far indeed from doing what we are seeking for, since in making his speech he attempts to swim backwards, with his face uppermost, not setting out from the beginning, but from the end, and he begins with what the lover would say to his favourite at the close of his speech. Have I said nothing to the purpose, Phædrus, my dear friend?

Phæ. It is indeed, Socrates, the end of the subject about which he is speaking.

105. Socr. But what as to the rest? do not the other parts of the speech appear to have been put together at random? or does it appear that what is said in the second place ought from any necessity to have been placed second, or any thing else that he said? For it seems to me, who however know nothing about the matter, that the writer has without any scruple said whatever came uppermost, But do you know of any rule in speech-writing, in conformity to which he disposed his sentences in the order he has done one after another?

Phæ. You are pleasant, in supposing that I am able to see through his compositions so accurately.

Socr. But this at least I think you will allow, that every speech ought to be put together like a living creature, with a body of its own, so as to be neither without head, nor without 343feet, but to have both a middle and extremities, described proportionately to each other and to the whole.

106. Phæ. How not?

Socr. Consider, then, your friend’s speech, whether it is so or otherwise; and you will find that it is in no respect different from the epigram which some say is inscribed on the tomb of Midas the Phrygian.

Phæ. What is it, and what is there remarkable in it?

Socr. It is as follows;

“I am a maiden of brass and I lie on Midas’s sepulchre,

So long as water flows and tall trees flourish,

Remaining here on the tomb of Midas,

I will tell all passers by, that Midas is buried here.”

That it makes no difference which line is put first or last, you must perceive, I think.

Phæ. You are jesting at our speech, Socrates.

107. Socr. That you may not be angry, then, we will have done with this; (though it appears to me to contain very many examples, which any one might examine with advantage, so long as he does not at all attempt to imitate them;) and let us proceed to the two other speeches; for there was something in them, I think, fit to be looked into by those who wish to examine into the subject of speeches.

Phæ. What do you mean?

Socr. They were in a manner opposed to each other. For one said that favour ought to be shewn to a person that is in love, the other to a person that is not in love.

Phæ. And this, most strenuously.

Socr. I thought you were going to say, with truth, madly. However, this is the very thing I was seeking for. For we said that love was a kind of madness, did we not?

Phæ. Yes.

Socr. But there are two kinds of madness, one arising from human diseases, the other from an inspired deviation from established customs.

Phæ. Certainly.

108. Socr. But dividing the divine mania of the four deities into four parts, and assigning prophetic inspiration to Apollo, mystic to Bacchus, poetic to the Muses, and the fourth to Venus and Love, we said that the madness of Love is the best, 344and I know not how representing the passion of love, probably lighting on some truth and perhaps carried off elsewhere, we compounded a speech not altogether improbable, and sang a kind of mythical hymn, in a seemly and devotional manner, in honour of my lord and thine, Phædrus, Love, the guardian of beautiful boys.

Phæ. And one by no means unpleasant to me to hear.

Socr. Let us endeavour to find out, then, from the speech itself, how it was able to pass from censure to praise.

Phæ. What mean you by this?

109. Socr. To me it appears that in all other respects we have really been jesting; but as regards the two methods^[131] that are seen in these casually uttered speeches, if any one could apprehend their power by art, it would be by no means an unwelcome circumstance.

Phæ. What methods are these?

Socr. The one is to see under one aspect and to bring together under one general idea, many things scattered in various places, that, by defining each, a person may make it clear what the subject is that he wishes to discuss, as just now with respect to love, its nature being defined, whether it was well or ill described; at all events for that reason my speech was able to attain perspicuity and consistency.

Phæ. And what is the other method you speak of, Socrates?

110. Socr. The being able, on the other hand, to separate that general idea into species, by joints, as nature points out, and not to attempt to break any part, after the manner of an unskilful cook; but as, just now, my two speeches comprehended mental derangement under one common class. But as from one body there spring two sets of members bearing the same name, one called the left the other the right, so my speeches having considered mental derangement as naturally one class in us, then the speech that had to divide the left part, did not leave off dividing this again until having found in its members a kind of left-handed love, it reviled it deservedly: but the other taking us to the right hand side of madness, and having found a kind of love bearing the same name as the former, but divine, brought it to light and commended it as the cause of the greatest blessings to us.

345111. Phæ. You speak most truly.

Socr. For my part, Phædrus, I am not only myself a lover of these divisions and generalisations, in order that I may be able both to speak and think; but if I perceive any one else able to comprehend the one and the many, as they are in nature, him “I follow behind as in the footsteps of a god^[132].” But whether I designate those who are able to do this, rightly or not, God knows, however I have hitherto called them dialecticians. But now, tell me by what name ought we to call those who take lessons from you and Lysias? is this that art of speaking, by the use of which Thrasymachus and others have become able speakers themselves, and make others so who are willing to bring presents to them, as to kings?

Phæ. They are indeed royal men, yet not skilled in the particulars about which you enquire. However you appear to me to call this method rightly, in calling it dialectical; but the rhetorical appears to me still to escape us.

112. Socr. How say you? A fine thing indeed that must be, which is destitute of this and yet can be apprehended by art. It must on no account be neglected by you and me; but we must consider what is the remaining part of rhetoric.

Phæ. There are indeed very many things, Socrates, which you will find in the books written on the art of speaking.

Socr. You have reminded me very opportunely. The exordium, I think, must first be spoken at the beginning of the speech. You mean these, do you not? the refinements of the art?

Phæ. Yes.

Socr. And secondly a kind of narration, and evidence to support it; thirdly, proofs; fourthly, probabilities; and I think that a famous Byzantian tricker-out of speeches mentions confirmation and after-confirmation.

Phæ. Do you mean the excellent Theodorus?

Socr. I do. He says, too, that refutation and after-refutation must be employed both in accusation and defence. And must we not adduce the most illustrious Parian, Evenus, who first discovered subordinate intimations and bye-praises? and some say that he put into metre bye-censures, to assist the memory: for he is a wise man. 113. But shall we suffer Tisias and Gorgias to sleep, who found out that probabilities 346were more to be valued than truths, and who by force of words make small things appear great, and great things small, and new things old, and the contrary new, and who discovered a concise method of speaking and an infinite prolixity on all subjects? When Prodicus once heard me tell this, he laughed, and said that he alone had discovered what speeches are required by art; that we require them neither long nor short, but of a moderate length.

Phæ. Most wisely, Prodicus.

Socr. But do we not mention Hippias? for I think our Elean friend was of the same opinion with him.

Phæ. Why not?

114. Socr. But how shall we describe Polus’s new-fangled method of speaking, as his reduplication of words, his sentences, his similitudes, and the words which Licymnius made him a present of, in order to produce a graceful diction.

Phæ. But was not the system of Protagoras, Socrates, something of this kind?

Socr. His was a correctness of diction, my boy, and many other fine things besides, but in the art of dragging in speeches to excite commiseration for old age and poverty, the Chalcedonian hero appears to me to have carried off the palm. He was moreover a powerful man to rouse the anger of the multitude, and again, when enraged, to soothe them by enchantment, as he used to say; he was most skilful in raising and removing calumnies, on any ground whatever. But all seem to agree in the same opinion with respect to the conclusion of speeches, to which some have given the name of recapitulation, others a different name.

Phæ. You mean the summarily reminding the hearers, at the conclusion, of the several things that have been said.

115. Socr. I mean that, and now consider if you have any thing else to say about the art of speaking.

Phæ. Only some trifling things, and not worth mentioning.

Socr. Let us pass over trifles; and rather examine these things in the clear light, and see what influence they have in art, and on what occasion.

Phæ. A very powerful influence, Socrates, at least in assemblies of the people.

Socr. They have indeed. But, my admirable friend, do you also observe whether their web does not appear to you to be very wide as it does to me.

347Phæ. Explain what you mean.

Socr. Tell me then: If any one should go to your friend Eryximachus, or his father Acumenus, and should say, “I know how to apply such things to the body, as will make it warm or cold, as I please, and if I think proper, I can produce vomitings, and again purgings, and many other things of the kind, and as I know these things I consider myself a physician, and that I can make any one else so, to whom I impart the knowledge of these particulars:” what do you think they would say on hearing this?

Phæ. What else, but ask him if he knew besides to what persons, and when, and how far, he ought to do each of these things?

116. Socr. If then, he should say, “Not in the least; but I expect that he who should learn these things from me, would be able to do what you ask?”

Phæ. He would say, I think, that the man is mad; and that, having heard from some book or other, or having met with certain drugs, he fancies that he has become a physician, though he knows nothing at all about the art.

Socr. But what if any one were to go to Sophocles and Euripides, and tell them, that he knew how to make very long speeches on a trifling subject, and very short ones on a great subject, and whenever he pleased, piteous and contrariwise, terrible and threatening speeches, and other things of the kind, and that by teaching these he thought he could impart the power of writing tragedy?

117. Phæ. They too, I think, Socrates, would laugh, if any one should suppose that tragedy was any thing else than the composition of all these, so disposed as to be consistent with each other and the whole.

Socr. But, I think, they would not upbraid him rudely, but as a musician, who happened to meet with a man who believes himself to be skilled in harmony, because he knows how to make the highest and lowest note, would not harshly say to him, “Miserable fellow, you are stark mad;” but, being a musician, he would speak more mildly; “My excellent man, it is indeed necessary for one who means to be skilled in harmony, to know these things, but at the same time there is nothing to hinder a person from possessing the knowledge you have without his understanding harmony in the least; for you know what is necessary to be learnt before harmony, but not harmony itself.”

348Phæ. Most correctly.

118. Socr. In like manner, Sophocles might reply to the person who displayed his learning to them, that he knew the things before tragedy, but not tragedy itself; and Acumenus, that the medical pretender knew things before medicine, but not medicine itself.

Phæ. Most assuredly.

Socr. But what must we think the sweet-voiced Adrastus, or even Pericles would do, if they were to hear of the beautiful contrivances which we have just now enumerated, the short sentences and similitudes, and all the rest, which when we went through them, we said must be examined by the clear light, whether they, as you and I did, would rudely make some ill-mannered remark against those who had written and who teach such things as if they constituted the art of rhetoric, or, as being wiser than we are, would they not reprove us, saying, 119. “Phædrus and Socrates, you ought not to be angry with, but rather to excuse those who, through being ignorant of dialectics, are unable to define what rhetoric is, and who, in consequence of this ignorance, possessing the things necessary to be learnt preparatory to the art, think that they have discovered rhetoric itself, and, suppose that by teaching these things to others, they can teach them rhetoric in perfection; but how each of them is to be used persuasively, and the whole combined together, this, as being of no consequence in the world, they think their pupils ought to acquire for themselves in composing their speeches.”

Phæ. Such indeed, Socrates, appears to be the case with the art which these men teach and write about as rhetoric; and you seem to me to have spoken the truth: but how and from whence can one acquire the art of true rhetoric and persuasion?

120. Socr. The ability, Phædrus, to become a perfect proficient, probably, or rather necessarily, depends on the same things as in other cases: for, if you naturally possess rhetorical abilities, you will be a distinguished orator by adding science and practice; but in whichever of these you are deficient, in that respect you will be imperfect. But so far as it is an art, its method, I think, will not be found in the way that Lysias and Thrasymachus are proceeding.

Phæ. In what way then?

349Socr. Pericles, my excellent friend, appears, with good reason, to have been the most perfect of all men in rhetoric.

Phæ. How so?

Socr. All the great arts require a subtle and speculative research into the law of nature: for that loftiness of thought and perfect mastery over every subject seems to be derived from some such source as this; which Pericles possessed in addition to a great natural genius. For meeting, I think, with Anaxagoras, who was a person of this kind, and being filled with speculative research, and having arrived at the nature of intelligence and want of intelligence, about which Anaxagoras made that long discourse, he drew from thence to the art of speaking whatever could contribute to its advantage.

121. Phæ. What mean you by this?

Socr. The method of the art of rhetoric is, in a manner, the same as that of medicine.

Phæ. How so?

Socr. In both it is requisite that nature should be thoroughly investigated, the nature of the body in the one, and the soul in the other, if you mean not only by practice and experience, but by art, to give health and strength to the former by applying medicine and diet, and to impart such persuasion as you please and virtue to the latter, by means of speeches and legitimate employments.

Phæ. This indeed seems probable, Socrates.

Socr. But do you think it possible rightly to understand the nature of the soul, without understanding the nature of the universe?

Phæ. If we are to believe Hippocrates, of the family of Æsculapius, we cannot understand even the nature of body without this method.

Socr. For he says well, my friend. But it is necessary, in addition to the authority of Hippocrates, to examine our argument, and consider whether it is consistent.

Phæ. I agree.

122. Socr. Consider, then, with respect to nature, what Hippocrates and true reason say. Is it not thus necessary to examine into the nature of any thing? In the first place, whether that is simple or manifold about which we are desirous, both ourselves to be skilled, and to be able to make others so; and, in the next place, if it be simple, to examine the power it 350naturally possesses of acting on each particular thing, or of being acted upon by each particular thing? And if it possesses several species, having enumerated these, as in the case of the one, ought we not to consider this in each of them, what active and passive power they naturally have?

Phæ. It seems so, Socrates.

123. Socr. The method, then, that neglected these, would resemble the walk of a blind man. He however who proceeds by art, ought on no account to be compared either to a blind or a deaf man; but it is clear that whosoever teaches another speaking by art, should accurately shew the real nature of the things to which he will have to apply his speeches; and this surely is the soul.

Phæ. How not?

Socr. His whole endeavour, therefore, must be directed to this; for in this he attempts to produce persuasion. Is it not so?

Phæ. Yes.

Socr. It is clear, therefore, that Thrasymachus, and any one else who seriously endeavours to teach the art of rhetoric, will in the first place describe with all possible accuracy, and make it be seen whether the soul is naturally one and similar, or, like the form of the body, composed of different elements; for this we say is to make known nature.

Phæ. Most assuredly.

Socr. And, in the second place, in what respect it naturally acts or is acted upon by any thing.

124. Phæ. How not?

Socr. In the third place, having set in order the different kinds of speech and of soul, and the different manners in which these are affected, he will go through the several causes, adapting each to each, and teaching what kind of soul is necessarily persuaded, and what not persuaded, by particular kinds of speech, and for what reason.

Phæ. It will assuredly be best done in this way, as it seems.

Socr. Never then, my dear friend, will any thing that is otherwise explained or spoken, be spoken or written by art, either in any other case or in this. But the modern writers on the art of speech-making, whom you yourself have heard, are dissemblers, and conceal the very admirable knowledge they have of the soul. Until, then, they both speak and write according 351to this method, let us never be persuaded that they write artistically.

Phæ. What method is this?

Socr. It is not easy to mention the very words themselves; but how it is proper to write, if a man means to be as artistic as he possibly can, I am willing to tell you.

Phæ. Tell me then.

125. Socr. Since the power of speech is that of leading the soul, it is necessary that he who means to be an orator should know how many kinds of soul there are: but they are so many, and of such and such kinds; whence some men are of this character and some of that character. These then being thus divided, there are again so many kinds of speech, each of a certain character. Now men of such a character are for this particular reason easily persuaded by certain speeches, and persons of a different character are for these reasons with difficulty persuaded. It is necessary, therefore, that he, after having sufficiently understood all this, when he afterwards perceives these very things taking place in actions, and being done, should be able to follow them rapidly by perception, otherwise he will know nothing more than the very things which he formerly heard from his preceptor. 126. But when he is sufficiently competent to say, what kind of person is persuaded by what kind of speeches, and is able, when he sees him before him, to point out to himself that this is the person and this the nature for which those speeches were formerly made now actually present before me, and to which these particular speeches are to be addressed, in order to persuade him to these particular things,—when he has acquired all this, and has learnt moreover the proper seasons for speaking and being silent, and again has made himself master of the seasonable and unseasonable occasions for brevity, plaintiveness, and vehemence, and all the other several kinds of speech which he has learnt, then his art will be beautifully and perfectly accomplished, but not before. But whoever is deficient in any of these particulars, either in speaking, or teaching, or writing, and yet asserts that he speaks by art, is overcome by the person who will not be persuaded. 127. “What then,” perhaps the writer on rhetoric will say, “does it appear to you, Phædrus and Socrates, that the art of speaking, as it is called, must be obtained in this or some other way?”

352Phæ. It is impossible, Socrates, that it should be obtained in any other way; though it seems to be a work of no small labour.

Socr. You say truly. And on this account we ought to turn over all speeches again and again, and consider whether any easier and shorter way to it can be found, in order that we may not in vain go by a long and rough one, when we might have taken a short and smooth one. If, therefore, you have heard of any thing that will assist us, from Lysias or any one else, endeavour to call it to mind, and tell it me.

Phæ. If the endeavour were enough I should be able to do so, but just at present I cannot.

128. Socr. Are you willing, then, that I should repeat to you a statement which I heard from persons who take an interest in such matters?matters?

Phæ. How not?

Socr. It is said, however, Phædrus, to be right to state even the wolf’s case.

Phæ. And do you do so.

Socr. They say, then, that there is no occasion to treat these matters so solemnly, nor to carry them back so far, by such long windings. For as we said in the beginning of our discussion, there is no need at all for one who wishes to become a competent orator to have any thing to do with the truth respecting actions just or good, or men who are such, either by nature or education. For that in courts of justice no attention whatever is paid to the truth of these things, but only to what is plausible, and that it is probability to which one who wishes to speak by art ought to apply himself. And that sometimes even facts that have actually happened must not be stated, unless they are probable, but probabilities both in accusation and defence: and, in short, that a speaker should pursue the probable, and pay no regard at all to truth. For that when this method is observed throughout the whole speech, it constitutes the perfection of the art.

129. Phæ. You have described the very things, Socrates, which they say who profess to be skilled in speech-making; and I remember that we touched briefly upon this in a former part of our discussion; but this appears to be matter of the utmost consequence to those who study these things.

Socr. However you have thoroughly fumbled Tisias himself. 353Let Tisias then tell us this, whether he means any thing else by the probable than that which accords with the opinion of the multitude.

Phæ. What else can it be?

Socr. Having made, then, as it seems, this wise and artistic discovery, he has written, that if a weak but brave man should be brought to trial for having knocked down a strong and cowardly one, and for having robbed him of his clothes or any thing else, then that neither of them ought to speak the truth, but the coward should say that he was not knocked down by the brave man alone, and the latter should prove this, that they were alone, and then urge this; “How could a man like me ever attack a man like him?” But the other will not admit his own cowardice, but, in attempting to tell some other falsehood, will perhaps supply his adversary with the means of refuting him. And in other cases, such things as these are said according to art. Is it not so, Phædrus?

130. Phæ. How not?

Socr. Wonderfully clever seems to have been the inventor of this abstruse art, whether Tisias or whoever else he was, and by whatever name he delights to be called. But, my friend, shall we say to him or not?

Phæ. What?

Socr. Tisias, long since before your arrival, we happened to say, that this probability of yours derives its influence with the multitude from its resemblance to truth; and we just now concluded that in all cases he knows best how to discover resemblances who is best acquainted with the truth. So that, if you have any thing else to say about the art of speaking, we will listen to you; but if not, we shall hold to the conclusions we have lately come to, that unless a man has reckoned up the different natures of those who will have to hear him, and is able to divide things themselves into species, and to comprehend the several particulars under one general idea, he will never be skilled in the art of speaking so far as it is possible for a man to be so. 131. But this he can never acquire without great labour, which a wise man ought not to bestow for the purpose of speaking and acting amongst men, but that he may be able to speak such things as are acceptable to the gods, and act acceptably to them, to the utmost of his power. For, as wiser men than we say, Tisias, a man of understanding ought 354not to make it his principal study to gratify his fellow-servants, except by the way, but good masters and of good extraction. If therefore the circuit be long, wonder not; 132. for it is to be undertaken for the sake of great ends, not such as you think. And even these, as our argument proves, if any one is willing, will be best attained by those means.

Phæ. This appears to me, Socrates, to be very finely said, if only a man could attain to it.

Socr. But when one is attempting noble things, it is surely noble also to suffer whatever it may befal us to suffer.

Phæ. Assuredly.

Socr. As regards, then, the art and want of art in speaking, let this suffice.

133. Phæ. How should it not?

Socr. But as regards elegance and inelegance in writing, in what way it may be done well, and in what way inelegantly, remains to be considered. Does it not?

Phæ. Yes.

Socr. Do you know, then, how you may best please God with regard to speeches, both acting and speaking?

Phæ. Not at all. Do you?

Socr. I can tell a story I have heard of the ancients, its truth they know. But if we ourselves could discover this, do you think we should any longer pay any regard to the opinions of men?

Phæ. Your question is ridiculous; but relate what you say you have heard.

134. Socr. I have heard then, that at Naucratis, in Egypt, there was one of the ancient gods of that country, to whom was consecrated the bird, which they call Ibis; but the name of the deity himself was Theuth. That he was the first to invent numbers and arithmetic, and geometry and astronomy, and moreover draughts and dice, and especially letters, at the time when Thamus was king of all Egypt, and dwelt in the great city of the upper region which the Greeks call Egyptian Thebes, but the god they call Ammon; to him Theuth went and shewed him his arts, and told him that they ought to be distributed amongst the rest of the Egyptians. Thamus asked him what was the use of each, and as he explained it, according as he appeared to say well or ill, he either blamed or praised them. 135. Now Thamus is reported to have said many things to 355Theuth respecting each art, both for and against it, which it would be tedious to relate. But when they came to the letters, “This knowledge, O king,” said Theuth, “will make the Egyptians wiser, and better able to remember; for it has been invented as a medicine for memory and wisdom.” But he replied, “Most ingenious Theuth, one person is able to give birth to art, another to judge of what amount of detriment or advantage it will be to those who are to use it, and now you, as being the father of letters, out of fondness have attributed to them just the contrary effect to that which they will have. For this invention will produce forgetfulness in the minds of those who learn it through the neglect of memory, for that through trusting to writing, they will remember outwardly by means of foreign marks, and not inwardly by means of their own faculties. So that you have not discovered a medicine for memory, but for recollection. And you are providing for your disciples the appearance and not the reality of wisdom. For hearing many things through your means without instruction, they will appear to know a great deal, although they are for the most part ignorant, and will become troublesome associates, through thinking themselves wise instead of being so.”

136. Phæ. Socrates, you easily make Egyptian and any other country’s tales you please.

Socr. But, my friend, those who dwell in the temple of Dodonæan Jupiter said that the first prophetic words issued from an oak. It was sufficient for the men of those days, seeing they were not wise like you moderns, in their simplicity, to listen to an oak and a stone, if only they spoke the truth: and does it make any difference to you, forsooth, who the speaker is, and to what country he belongs? For you do not consider that only, whether the case is so or otherwise.

Phæ. You have very properly reproved me; and the case with regard to letters appears to me just as the Theban says.

137. Socr. He therefore, who thinks to leave an art in writing, and again, he who receives it, as if something clear and solid would result from the writing, must be full of simplicity, and in reality ignorant of the prophecy of Ammon, since he thinks that written words are of further value than to remind one who already knows the subject of which the writings treat.

Phæ. Most correct.

Socr. For writing, indeed, Phædrus, has this inconvenience, 356and truly resembles painting. For its productions stand out as if they were alive, but, if you ask them any question, they observe a solemn silence. And so it is with written discourses; you would think that they spoke as though they possessed some wisdom, but if you ask them about any thing they say, from a desire to understand it, they give only one and the self-same answer. And when it is once written, every discourse is tossed about every where, equally among those who understand it, and among those whom it in no wise concerns, and it knows not to whom it ought to speak, and to whom not. And when it is ill-treated and unjustly reviled, it always needs its father to help it; for, of itself, it can neither defend nor help itself.

138. Phæ. This, too, you have said most correctly.

Socr. But what? shall we consider another discourse, this one’s legitimate brother, in what manner it is produced, and how far better and more powerful it naturally is than this?

Phæ. What is that, and how do you say it is produced?

Socr. That which is written with science in the learner’s soul, which is able to defend itself, and knows before whom it ought to speak and be silent.

Phæ. You mean the discourse of a man endued with knowledge that has life and soul, of which the written may be justly called an image.

Socr. Assuredly. But tell me this. Would an intelligent husbandman, who has seeds that he cares for and which he wishes to be fruitful, seriously sow them in summer-time in the gardens of Adonis, and rejoice at seeing them growing up beautifully within eight days, or would he do this, if he did it at all, for the sake of sport or pastime; but the seed which he treats seriously, availing himself of the husbandman’s skill and sowing it in its proper soil, would he be content that what he has sown shall come to maturity in the eighth month?

139. Phæ. Just so, Socrates, he would do the one seriously, and the other, as you say, for amusement.

Socr. But shall we say that he who possesses a knowledge of what is just, beautiful and good, shews less intelligence than a husbandman in the management of his own seeds?

Phæ. By no means.

Socr. He will not, then, seriously write them in water, sowing them with ink by means of a pen, with words that are 357unable to defend themselves by speech, and unable adequately to teach the truth.

Phæ. In all probability he will not.

Socr. Surely not. But, as it seems, he will sow and write, when he does write, in the gardens of letters for the sake of diversion, treasuring up memoranda for himself, when he comes to the forgetfulness of old age, and for all who are going on the same track, and he will be delighted at seeing them in their tender growth, and while other men pursue other diversions, refreshing themselves with banquets, and other pleasures akin to these, he, as it appears, instead of these, will pass his time in the diversions I have mentioned.

140. Phæ. You speak of a very noble in comparison of a mean diversion, Socrates, when a man is able to divert himself with discourses, telling stories about justice and the other things you mention.

Socr. It is so indeed, my dear Phædrus. But, in my opinion, a far more noble employment results from this, when a man availing himself of dialectic art, on meeting with a congenial soul, plants and sows scientific discourses which are able to aid both themselves and him that planted them, and are not unfruitful but contain seed within themselves, from whence others springing up in other minds are able to make this seed immortal, and make their possessor happy as far as it is possible for man to be so.

Phæ. This that you mention is far more noble.

Socr. Now then, Phædrus, since this is agreed on, we are able to determine our former questions.

Phæ. What are they?

Socr. Those which, in our desire to consider them, led us to the present point: namely, that we might examine into the reproach cast on Lysias for writing speeches, and then speeches themselves, which are written by art or without art. Now that which is artistic and that which is not appears to me to have been tolerably well explained.

141. Phæ. It appears so. But remind me of it again, in what way.

Socr. Before a man knows the truth of each subject on which he speaks or writes, and is able to define the whole of a thing, and when he has defined it again knows how to divide it into species until he comes to the indivisible; and in like 358manner, having distinguished the nature of the soul, and having found out what kind of speech is adapted to the nature of each, he so disposes and adorns his speech, applying to a soul of varied powers speeches that are various and all-harmonious, and simple ones to a simple soul, before this is done, he will not be able to manage speech with art, as far as it might be done, either for the purpose of teaching or persuading, as the whole of our former argument has proved.

Phæ. This is exactly how it appeared.

142. Socr. But what as to its being honourable or disgraceful to speak and write speeches, and under what circumstances it may be called a reproach or not, has not what we have said a little before sufficed to prove?

Phæ. What was that?

Socr. That if either Lysias, or any one else, has ever written, or shall hereafter write, privately or publicly, writing a state document in proposing a law, and thinks that there is in it great stability and clearness, this is a reproach to the writer, whether any one says so or not. For to be utterly ignorant of what is just and unjust, evil and good, cannot be otherwise than truly disgraceful, though the whole mass of mankind should unite in its praise.

143. Phæ. Certainly not.

Socr. But he who thinks that in a written discourse, on whatever subject, there must necessarily be much that is sportive, and that no discourse, in prose or verse, deserving of much study, has ever been written or spoken, as those declamations used to be spoken without discrimination and instructive method, for the sake of persuasion, but that in truth the best of them were for the purpose of reminding those who already know, but that only in discourses taught and spoken for the sake of instruction, and really written in the soul about things just, and beautiful, and good, there is found what is clear and perfect and worthy of study; and that such discourses ought to be called as it were their author’s legitimate offspring; first of all that which is in himself, if it is there by his own invention, then any children or brothers of the former that have at the same time worthily sprung up in the souls of others; whoever thinks thus and dismisses all others, that man, Phædrus, appears to be such a one as you and I should pray that we might become.

359144. Phæ. I, for my part, entirely wish and pray for what you mention.

Socr. Be we then content with having thus far amused ourselves with the subject of speeches; and do you go and tell Lysias that we, having descended to the fountain of the nymphs, have heard words which charged us to tell Lysias and any one else who composes speeches, and Homer and any one else who is in the habit of composing poetrypoetry, epic or lyric^[133], and thirdly, Solon and whosoever commits political discourses to writing under the name of laws, if they composed their works knowing how the truth stands, and able to defend them when brought to account for what they have written, and being themselves capable by speaking to shew that their writings are poor, then they ought not to be named from these works, but from those to which they have seriously applied themselves.

145. Phæ. What name, then, do you assign them?

Socr. To call them wise, Phædrus, appears to me to be a great matter, and proper for God alone; but lovers of wisdom, or some such name, would suit them better, and be in better taste.

Phæ. And it would be nothing out of the way.

Socr. Him, therefore, who has nothing more valuable than what he has written, by turning it upwards and downwards for a long time, patching and clipping it bit by bit, may you not justly designate a poet, or a compiler of speeches, or a writer of laws?

Phæ. How not?

Socr. Tell this, then, to your friend.

Phæ. But you? what will you do? For we must not pass over your friend.

Socr. Whom do you mean?

146. Phæ. The beautiful Isocrates. What news will you take him, Socrates? what shall we say he is?

Socr. Isocrates is still young, Phædrus; but what I prophesy of him I am willing to say.

Phæ. What?

Socr. He appears to me to have better natural endowments than to be compared with the speeches of Lysias, and moreover to be endued with a nobler disposition, so that it would not be at all wonderful if, as he advances in age, he should in 360this very pursuit of speech-making, to which he is now applying himself, surpass all who have ever attempted speeches, as if they were boys, and besides, if he should not be content with this, that a more divine impulse may lead him to greater things; for, my friend, there is a natural love of wisdom in the mind of the man. This message, then, I will take from the gods of this spot to Isocrates my favourite, and do you take the other to Lysias as yours.

147. Phæ. This shall be done. But let us depart, since the heat has become less oppressive.

Socr. Ought we not to go after we have prayed to these gods?

Phæ. How not?

Socr. O beloved Pan, and all ye other gods of this place, grant me to become beautiful in the inner man, and that whatever outward things I have may be at peace with those within. May I deem the wise man rich, and may I have such a portion of gold as none but a prudent man can either bear or employ.

Do we need any thing else, Phædrus? for myself I have prayed enough.

Phæ. Make the same prayer for me, too; for the possessions of friends are common.

Socr. Let us depart.

361