Phaedrus
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