ION
by Plato
Translated by Benjamin Jowett
INTRODUCTION.
The Ion is the shortest, or nearly the shortest, of all the
writings which bear the name of Plato, and is not
authenticated by any early external testimony. The grace
and beauty of this little work supply the only, and perhaps
a sufficient, proof of its genuineness. The plan is simple;
the dramatic interest consists entirely in the contrast
between the irony of Socrates and the transparent vanity
and childlike enthusiasm of the rhapsode Ion. The theme of
the Dialogue may possibly have been suggested by the
passage of Xenophon’s Memorabilia in which the rhapsodists
are described by Euthydemus as ‘very precise about the
exact words of Homer, but very idiotic themselves.’
(Compare Aristotle, Met.)
Ion the rhapsode has just come to Athens; he has been
exhibiting in Epidaurus at the festival of Asclepius, and
is intending to exhibit at the festival of the Panathenaea.
Socrates admires and envies the rhapsode’s art; for he is
always well dressed and in good company-in the company of
good poets and of Homer, who is the prince of them. In the
course of conversation the admission is elicited from Ion
that his skill is restricted to Homer, and that he knows
nothing of inferior poets, such as Hesiod and
Archilochus;--he brightens up and is wide awake when Homer
is being recited, but is apt to go to sleep at the
recitations of any other poet. ‘And yet, surely, he who
knows the superior ought to know the inferior also;--he who
can judge of the good speaker is able to judge of the bad.
And poetry is a whole; and he who judges of poetry by rules
of art ought to be able to judge of all poetry.’ This is
confirmed by the analogy of sculpture, painting,
flute-playing, and the other arts. The argument is at last
brought home to the mind of Ion, who asks how this
contradiction is to be solved. The solution given by
Socrates is as follows:--
The rhapsode is not guided by rules of art, but is an
inspired person who derives a mysterious power from the
poet; and the poet, in like manner, is inspired by the God.
The poets and their interpreters may be compared to a chain
of magnetic rings suspended from one another, and from a
magnet. The magnet is the Muse, and the ring which
immediately follows is the poet himself; from him are
suspended other poets; there is also a chain of rhapsodes
and actors, who also hang from the Muses, but are let down
at the side; and the last ring of all is the spectator. The
poet is the inspired interpreter of the God, and this is
the reason why some poets, like Homer, are restricted to a
single theme, or, like Tynnichus, are famous for a single
poem; and the rhapsode is the inspired interpreter of the
poet, and for a similar reason some rhapsodes, like Ion,
are the interpreters of single poets.
Ion is delighted at the notion of being inspired, and
acknowledges that he is beside himself when he is
performing;--his eyes rain tears and his hair stands on
end. Socrates is of opinion that a man must be mad who
behaves in this way at a festival when he is surrounded by
his friends and there is nothing to trouble him. Ion is
confident that Socrates would never think him mad if he
could only hear his embellishments of Homer. Socrates asks
whether he can speak well about everything in Homer. ‘Yes,
indeed he can.’ ‘What about things of which he has no
knowledge?’ Ion answers that he can interpret anything in
Homer. But, rejoins Socrates, when Homer speaks of the
arts, as for example, of chariot-driving, or of medicine,
or of prophecy, or of navigation-will he, or will the
charioteer or physician or prophet or pilot be the better
judge? Ion is compelled to admit that every man will judge
of his own particular art better than the rhapsode. He
still maintains, however, that he understands the art of
the general as well as any one. ‘Then why in this city of
Athens, in which men of merit are always being sought
after, is he not at once appointed a general?’ Ion replies
that he is a foreigner, and the Athenians and Spartans will
not appoint a foreigner to be their general. ‘No, that is
not the real reason; there are many examples to the
contrary. But Ion has long been playing tricks with the
argument; like Proteus, he transforms himself into a
variety of shapes, and is at last about to run away in the
disguise of a general. Would he rather be regarded as
inspired or dishonest?’ Ion, who has no suspicion of the
irony of Socrates, eagerly embraces the alternative of
inspiration.
The Ion, like the other earlier Platonic Dialogues, is a
mixture of jest and earnest, in which no definite result is
obtained, but some Socratic or Platonic truths are allowed
dimly to appear.
The elements of a true theory of poetry are contained in
the notion that the poet is inspired. Genius is often said
to be unconscious, or spontaneous, or a gift of nature:
that ‘genius is akin to madness’ is a popular aphorism of
modern times. The greatest strength is observed to have an
element of limitation. Sense or passion are too much for
the ‘dry light’ of intelligence which mingles with them and
becomes discoloured by them. Imagination is often at war
with reason and fact. The concentration of the mind on a
single object, or on a single aspect of human nature,
overpowers the orderly perception of the whole. Yet the
feelings too bring truths home to the minds of many who in
the way of reason would be incapable of understanding them.
Reflections of this kind may have been passing before
Plato’s mind when he describes the poet as inspired, or
when, as in the Apology, he speaks of poets as the worst
critics of their own writings-anybody taken at random from
the crowd is a better interpreter of them than they are of
themselves. They are sacred persons, ‘winged and holy
things’ who have a touch of madness in their composition
(Phaedr.), and should be treated with every sort of respect
(Republic), but not allowed to live in a well-ordered
state. Like the Statesmen in the Meno, they have a divine
instinct, but they are narrow and confused; they do not
attain to the clearness of ideas, or to the knowledge of
poetry or of any other art as a whole.
In the Protagoras the ancient poets are recognized by
Protagoras himself as the original sophists; and this
family resemblance may be traced in the Ion. The rhapsode
belongs to the realm of imitation and of opinion: he
professes to have all knowledge, which is derived by him
from Homer, just as the sophist professes to have all
wisdom, which is contained in his art of rhetoric. Even
more than the sophist he is incapable of appreciating the
commonest logical distinctions; he cannot explain the
nature of his own art; his great memory contrasts with his
inability to follow the steps of the argument. And in his
highest moments of inspiration he has an eye to his own
gains.
The old quarrel between philosophy and poetry, which in the
Republic leads to their final separation, is already
working in the mind of Plato, and is embodied by him in the
contrast between Socrates and Ion. Yet here, as in the
Republic, Socrates shows a sympathy with the poetic nature.
Also, the manner in which Ion is affected by his own
recitations affords a lively illustration of the power
which, in the Republic, Socrates attributes to dramatic
performances over the mind of the performer. His allusion
to his embellishments of Homer, in which he declares
himself to have surpassed Metrodorus of Lampsacus and
Stesimbrotus of Thasos, seems to show that, like them, he
belonged to the allegorical school of interpreters. The
circumstance that nothing more is known of him may be
adduced in confirmation of the argument that this truly
Platonic little work is not a forgery of later times.
ION
by
Plato
Translated by Benjamin Jowett
PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: Socrates, Ion.
SOCRATES: Welcome, Ion. Are you from your native city of
Ephesus?
ION: No, Socrates; but from Epidaurus, where I attended the
festival of Asclepius.
SOCRATES: And do the Epidaurians have contests of rhapsodes
at the festival?
ION: O yes; and of all sorts of musical performers.
SOCRATES: And were you one of the competitors-and did you
succeed?
ION: I obtained the first prize of all, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Well done; and I hope that you will do the same
for us at the Panathenaea.
ION: And I will, please heaven.
SOCRATES: I often envy the profession of a rhapsode, Ion;
for you have always to wear fine clothes, and to look as
beautiful as you can is a part of your art. Then, again,
you are obliged to be continually in the company of many
good poets; and especially of Homer, who is the best and
most divine of them; and to understand him, and not merely
learn his words by rote, is a thing greatly to be envied.
And no man can be a rhapsode who does not understand the
meaning of the poet. For the rhapsode ought to interpret
the mind of the poet to his hearers, but how can he
interpret him well unless he knows what he means? All this
is greatly to be envied.
ION: Very true, Socrates; interpretation has certainly been
the most laborious part of my art; and I believe myself
able to speak about Homer better than any man; and that
neither Metrodorus of Lampsacus, nor Stesimbrotus of
Thasos, nor Glaucon, nor any one else who ever was, had as
good ideas about Homer as I have, or as many.
SOCRATES: I am glad to hear you say so, Ion; I see that you
will not refuse to acquaint me with them.
ION: Certainly, Socrates; and you really ought to hear how
exquisitely I render Homer. I think that the Homeridae
should give me a golden crown.
SOCRATES: I shall take an opportunity of hearing your
embellishments of him at some other time. But just now I
should like to ask you a question: Does your art extend to
Hesiod and Archilochus, or to Homer only?
ION: To Homer only; he is in himself quite enough.
SOCRATES: Are there any things about which Homer and Hesiod
agree?
ION: Yes; in my opinion there are a good many.
SOCRATES: And can you interpret better what Homer says, or
what Hesiod says, about these matters in which they agree?
ION: I can interpret them equally well, Socrates, where
they agree.
SOCRATES: But what about matters in which they do not
agree?--for example, about divination, of which both Homer
and Hesiod have something to say,--
ION: Very true:
SOCRATES: Would you or a good prophet be a better
interpreter of what these two poets say about divination,
not only when they agree, but when they disagree?
ION: A prophet.
SOCRATES: And if you were a prophet, would you not be able
to interpret them when they disagree as well as when they
agree?
ION: Clearly.
SOCRATES: But how did you come to have this skill about
Homer only, and not about Hesiod or the other poets? Does
not Homer speak of the same themes which all other poets
handle? Is not war his great argument? and does he not
speak of human society and of intercourse of men, good and
bad, skilled and unskilled, and of the gods conversing with
one another and with mankind, and about what happens in
heaven and in the world below, and the generations of gods
and heroes? Are not these the themes of which Homer sings?
ION: Very true, Socrates.
SOCRATES: And do not the other poets sing of the same?
ION: Yes, Socrates; but not in the same way as Homer.
SOCRATES: What, in a worse way?
ION: Yes, in a far worse.
SOCRATES: And Homer in a better way?
ION: He is incomparably better.
SOCRATES: And yet surely, my dear friend Ion, in a
discussion about arithmetic, where many people are
speaking, and one speaks better than the rest, there is
somebody who can judge which of them is the good speaker?
ION: Yes.
SOCRATES: And he who judges of the good will be the same as
he who judges of the bad speakers?
ION: The same.
SOCRATES: And he will be the arithmetician?
ION: Yes.
SOCRATES: Well, and in discussions about the wholesomeness
of food, when many persons are speaking, and one speaks
better than the rest, will he who recognizes the better
speaker be a different person from him who recognizes the
worse, or the same?
ION: Clearly the same.
SOCRATES: And who is he, and what is his name?
ION: The physician.
SOCRATES: And speaking generally, in all discussions in
which the subject is the same and many men are speaking,
will not he who knows the good know the bad speaker also?
For if he does not know the bad, neither will he know the
good when the same topic is being discussed.
ION: True.
SOCRATES: Is not the same person skilful in both?
ION: Yes.
SOCRATES: And you say that Homer and the other poets, such
as Hesiod and Archilochus, speak of the same things,
although not in the same way; but the one speaks well and
the other not so well?
ION: Yes; and I am right in saying so.
SOCRATES: And if you knew the good speaker, you would also
know the inferior speakers to be inferior?
ION: That is true.
SOCRATES: Then, my dear friend, can I be mistaken in saying
that Ion is equally skilled in Homer and in other poets,
since he himself acknowledges that the same person will be
a good judge of all those who speak of the same things; and
that almost all poets do speak of the same things?
ION: Why then, Socrates, do I lose attention and go to
sleep and have absolutely no ideas of the least value, when
any one speaks of any other poet; but when Homer is
mentioned, I wake up at once and am all attention and have
plenty to say?
SOCRATES: The reason, my friend, is obvious. No one can
fail to see that you speak of Homer without any art or
knowledge. If you were able to speak of him by rules of
art, you would have been able to speak of all other poets;
for poetry is a whole.
ION: Yes.
SOCRATES: And when any one acquires any other art as a
whole, the same may be said of them. Would you like me to
explain my meaning, Ion?
ION: Yes, indeed, Socrates; I very much wish that you
would: for I love to hear you wise men talk.
SOCRATES: O that we were wise, Ion, and that you could
truly call us so; but you rhapsodes and actors, and the
poets whose verses you sing, are wise; whereas I am a
common man, who only speak the truth. For consider what a
very commonplace and trivial thing is this which I have
said-a thing which any man might say: that when a man has
acquired a knowledge of a whole art, the enquiry into good
and bad is one and the same. Let us consider this matter;
is not the art of painting a whole?
ION: Yes.
SOCRATES: And there are and have been many painters good
and bad?
ION: Yes.
SOCRATES: And did you ever know any one who was skilful in
pointing out the excellences and defects of Polygnotus the
son of Aglaophon, but incapable of criticizing other
painters; and when the work of any other painter was
produced, went to sleep and was at a loss, and had no
ideas; but when he had to give his opinion about
Polygnotus, or whoever the painter might be, and about him
only, woke up and was attentive and had plenty to say?
ION: No indeed, I have never known such a person.
SOCRATES: Or did you ever know of any one in sculpture, who
was skilful in expounding the merits of Daedalus the son of
Metion, or of Epeius the son of Panopeus, or of Theodorus
the Samian, or of any individual sculptor; but when the
works of sculptors in general were produced, was at a loss
and went to sleep and had nothing to say?
ION: No indeed; no more than the other.
SOCRATES: And if I am not mistaken, you never met with any
one among flute-players or harp-players or singers to the
harp or rhapsodes who was able to discourse of Olympus or
Thamyras or Orpheus, or Phemius the rhapsode of Ithaca, but
was at a loss when he came to speak of Ion of Ephesus, and
had no notion of his merits or defects?
ION: I cannot deny what you say, Socrates. Nevertheless I
am conscious in my own self, and the world agrees with me
in thinking that I do speak better and have more to say
about Homer than any other man. But I do not speak equally
well about others-tell me the reason of this.
SOCRATES: I perceive, Ion; and I will proceed to explain to
you what I imagine to be the reason of this. The gift which
you possess of speaking excellently about Homer is not an
art, but, as I was just saying, an inspiration; there is a
divinity moving you, like that contained in the stone which
Euripides calls a magnet, but which is commonly known as
the stone of Heraclea. This stone not only attracts iron
rings, but also imparts to them a similar power of
attracting other rings; and sometimes you may see a number
of pieces of iron and rings suspended from one another so
as to form quite a long chain: and all of them derive their
power of suspension from the original stone. In like manner
the Muse first of all inspires men herself; and from these
inspired persons a chain of other persons is suspended, who
take the inspiration. For all good poets, epic as well as
lyric, compose their beautiful poems not by art, but
because they are inspired and possessed. And as the
Corybantian revellers when they dance are not in their
right mind, so the lyric poets are not in their right mind
when they are composing their beautiful strains: but when
falling under the power of music and metre they are
inspired and possessed; like Bacchic maidens who draw milk
and honey from the rivers when they are under the influence
of Dionysus but not when they are in their right mind. And
the soul of the lyric poet does the same, as they
themselves say; for they tell us that they bring songs from
honeyed fountains, culling them out of the gardens and
dells of the Muses; they, like the bees, winging their way
from flower to flower. And this is true. For the poet is a
light and winged and holy thing, and there is no invention
in him until he has been inspired and is out of his senses,
and the mind is no longer in him: when he has not attained
to this state, he is powerless and is unable to utter his
oracles. Many are the noble words in which poets speak
concerning the actions of men; but like yourself when
speaking about Homer, they do not speak of them by any
rules of art: they are simply inspired to utter that to
which the Muse impels them, and that only; and when
inspired, one of them will make dithyrambs, another hymns
of praise, another choral strains, another epic or iambic
verses-and he who is good at one is not good at any other
kind of verse: for not by art does the poet sing, but by
power divine. Had he learned by rules of art, he would have
known how to speak not of one theme only, but of all; and
therefore God takes away the minds of poets, and uses them
as his ministers, as he also uses diviners and holy
prophets, in order that we who hear them may know them to
be speaking not of themselves who utter these priceless
words in a state of unconsciousness, but that God himself
is the speaker, and that through them he is conversing with
us. And Tynnichus the Chalcidian affords a striking
instance of what I am saying: he wrote nothing that any one
would care to remember but the famous paean which is in
every one’s mouth, one of the finest poems ever written,
simply an invention of the Muses, as he himself says. For
in this way the God would seem to indicate to us and not
allow us to doubt that these beautiful poems are not human,
or the work of man, but divine and the work of God; and
that the poets are only the interpreters of the Gods by
whom they are severally possessed. Was not this the lesson
which the God intended to teach when by the mouth of the
worst of poets he sang the best of songs? Am I not right,
Ion?
ION: Yes, indeed, Socrates, I feel that you are; for your
words touch my soul, and I am persuaded that good poets by
a divine inspiration interpret the things of the Gods to
us. SOCRATES: And you rhapsodists are the interpreters of
the poets?
ION: There again you are right.
SOCRATES: Then you are the interpreters of interpreters?
ION: Precisely.
SOCRATES: I wish you would frankly tell me, Ion, what I am
going to ask of you: When you produce the greatest effect
upon the audience in the recitation of some striking
passage, such as the apparition of Odysseus leaping forth
on the floor, recognized by the suitors and casting his
arrows at his feet, or the description of Achilles rushing
at Hector, or the sorrows of Andromache, Hecuba, or
Priam,--are you in your right mind? Are you not carried out
of yourself, and does not your soul in an ecstasy seem to
be among the persons or places of which you are speaking,
whether they are in Ithaca or in Troy or whatever may be
the scene of the poem?
ION: That proof strikes home to me, Socrates. For I must
frankly confess that at the tale of pity my eyes are filled
with tears, and when I speak of horrors, my hair stands on
end and my heart throbs.
SOCRATES: Well, Ion, and what are we to say of a man who at
a sacrifice or festival, when he is dressed in holiday
attire, and has golden crowns upon his head, of which
nobody has robbed him, appears weeping or panic-stricken in
the presence of more than twenty thousand friendly faces,
when there is no one despoiling or wronging him;--is he in
his right mind or is he not?
ION: No indeed, Socrates, I must say that, strictly
speaking, he is not in his right mind.
SOCRATES: And are you aware that you produce similar
effects on most of the spectators?
ION: Only too well; for I look down upon them from the
stage, and behold the various emotions of pity, wonder,
sternness, stamped upon their countenances when I am
speaking: and I am obliged to give my very best attention
to them; for if I make them cry I myself shall laugh, and
if I make them laugh I myself shall cry when the time of
payment arrives.
SOCRATES: Do you know that the spectator is the last of the
rings which, as I am saying, receive the power of the
original magnet from one another? The rhapsode like
yourself and the actor are intermediate links, and the poet
himself is the first of them. Through all these the God
sways the souls of men in any direction which he pleases,
and makes one man hang down from another. Thus there is a
vast chain of dancers and masters and under-masters of
choruses, who are suspended, as if from the stone, at the
side of the rings which hang down from the Muse. And every
poet has some Muse from whom he is suspended, and by whom
he is said to be possessed, which is nearly the same thing;
for he is taken hold of. And from these first rings, which
are the poets, depend others, some deriving their
inspiration from Orpheus, others from Musaeus; but the
greater number are possessed and held by Homer. Of whom,
Ion, you are one, and are possessed by Homer; and when any
one repeats the words of another poet you go to sleep, and
know not what to say; but when any one recites a strain of
Homer you wake up in a moment, and your soul leaps within
you, and you have plenty to say; for not by art or
knowledge about Homer do you say what you say, but by
divine inspiration and by possession; just as the
Corybantian revellers too have a quick perception of that
strain only which is appropriated to the God by whom they
are possessed, and have plenty of dances and words for
that, but take no heed of any other. And you, Ion, when the
name of Homer is mentioned have plenty to say, and have
nothing to say of others. You ask, ‘Why is this?’ The
answer is that you praise Homer not by art but by divine
inspiration.
ION: That is good, Socrates; and yet I doubt whether you
will ever have eloquence enough to persuade me that I
praise Homer only when I am mad and possessed; and if you
could hear me speak of him I am sure you would never think
this to be the case.
SOCRATES: I should like very much to hear you, but not
until you have answered a question which I have to ask. On
what part of Homer do you speak well?--not surely about
every part.
ION: There is no part, Socrates, about which I do not speak
well: of that I can assure you.
SOCRATES: Surely not about things in Homer of which you
have no knowledge?
ION: And what is there in Homer of which I have no
knowledge?
SOCRATES: Why, does not Homer speak in many passages about
arts? For example, about driving; if I can only remember
the lines I will repeat them.
ION: I remember, and will repeat them.
SOCRATES: Tell me then, what Nestor says to Antilochus, his
son, where he bids him be careful of the turn at the
horserace in honour of Patroclus.
ION: ‘Bend gently,’ he says, ‘in the polished chariot to
the left of them, and urge the horse on the right hand with
whip and voice; and slacken the rein. And when you are at
the goal, let the left horse draw near, yet so that the
nave of the well-wrought wheel may not even seem to touch
the extremity; and avoid catching the stone (Il.).’
SOCRATES: Enough. Now, Ion, will the charioteer or the
physician be the better judge of the propriety of these
lines?
ION: The charioteer, clearly.
SOCRATES: And will the reason be that this is his art, or
will there be any other reason?
ION: No, that will be the reason.
SOCRATES: And every art is appointed by God to have
knowledge of a certain work; for that which we know by the
art of the pilot we do not know by the art of medicine?
ION: Certainly not.
SOCRATES: Nor do we know by the art of the carpenter that
which we know by the art of medicine?
ION: Certainly not.
SOCRATES: And this is true of all the arts;--that which we
know with one art we do not know with the other? But let me
ask a prior question: You admit that there are differences
of arts?
ION: Yes.
SOCRATES: You would argue, as I should, that when one art
is of one kind of knowledge and another of another, they
are different?
ION: Yes.
SOCRATES: Yes, surely; for if the subject of knowledge were
the same, there would be no meaning in saying that the arts
were different,--if they both gave the same knowledge. For
example, I know that here are five fingers, and you know
the same. And if I were to ask whether I and you became
acquainted with this fact by the help of the same art of
arithmetic, you would acknowledge that we did?
ION: Yes.
SOCRATES: Tell me, then, what I was intending to ask
you,--whether this holds universally? Must the same art
have the same subject of knowledge, and different arts
other subjects of knowledge?
ION: That is my opinion, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Then he who has no knowledge of a particular art
will have no right judgment of the sayings and doings of
that art?
ION: Very true.
SOCRATES: Then which will be a better judge of the lines
which you were reciting from Homer, you or the charioteer?
ION: The charioteer.
SOCRATES: Why, yes, because you are a rhapsode and not a
charioteer.
ION: Yes.
SOCRATES: And the art of the rhapsode is different from
that of the charioteer?
ION: Yes.
SOCRATES: And if a different knowledge, then a knowledge of
different matters?
ION: True.
SOCRATES: You know the passage in which Hecamede, the
concubine of Nestor, is described as giving to the wounded
Machaon a posset, as he says, ‘Made with Pramnian wine; and
she grated cheese of goat’s milk with a grater of bronze,
and at his side placed an onion which gives a relish to
drink (Il.).’ Now would you say that the art of the
rhapsode or the art of medicine was better able to judge of
the propriety of these lines?
ION: The art of medicine.
SOCRATES: And when Homer says, ‘And she descended into the
deep like a leaden plummet, which, set in the horn of ox
that ranges in the fields, rushes along carrying death
among the ravenous fishes (Il.),’- will the art of the
fisherman or of the rhapsode be better able to judge
whether these lines are rightly expressed or not?
ION: Clearly, Socrates, the art of the fisherman.
SOCRATES: Come now, suppose that you were to say to me:
‘Since you, Socrates, are able to assign different passages
in Homer to their corresponding arts, I wish that you would
tell me what are the passages of which the excellence ought
to be judged by the prophet and prophetic art’; and you
will see how readily and truly I shall answer you. For
there are many such passages, particularly in the Odyssee;
as, for example, the passage in which Theoclymenus the
prophet of the house of Melampus says to the suitors:--
‘Wretched men! what is happening to you? Your heads and
your faces and your limbs underneath are shrouded in night;
and the voice of lamentation bursts forth, and your cheeks
are wet with tears. And the vestibule is full, and the
court is full, of ghosts descending into the darkness of
Erebus, and the sun has perished out of heaven, and an evil
mist is spread abroad (Od.).’ And there are many such
passages in the Iliad also; as for example in the
description of the battle near the rampart, where he
says:-- ‘As they were eager to pass the ditch, there came
to them an omen: a soaring eagle, holding back the people
on the left, bore a huge bloody dragon in his talons, still
living and panting; nor had he yet resigned the strife, for
he bent back and smote the bird which carried him on the
breast by the neck, and he in pain let him fall from him to
the ground into the midst of the multitude. And the eagle,
with a cry, was borne afar on the wings of the wind (Il.).’
These are the sort of things which I should say that the
prophet ought to consider and determine.
ION: And you are quite right, Socrates, in saying so.
SOCRATES: Yes, Ion, and you are right also. And as I have
selected from the Iliad and Odyssee for you passages which
describe the office of the prophet and the physician and
the fisherman, do you, who know Homer so much better than I
do, Ion, select for me passages which relate to the
rhapsode and the rhapsode’s art, and which the rhapsode
ought to examine and judge of better than other men.
ION: All passages, I should say, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Not all, Ion, surely. Have you already forgotten
what you were saying? A rhapsode ought to have a better
memory.
ION: Why, what am I forgetting?
SOCRATES: Do you not remember that you declared the art of
the rhapsode to be different from the art of the
charioteer?
ION: Yes, I remember.
SOCRATES: And you admitted that being different they would
have different subjects of knowledge?
ION: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then upon your own showing the rhapsode, and the
art of the rhapsode, will not know everything?
ION: I should exclude certain things, Socrates.
SOCRATES: You mean to say that you would exclude pretty
much the subjects of the other arts. As he does not know
all of them, which of them will he know?
ION: He will know what a man and what a woman ought to say,
and what a freeman and what a slave ought to say, and what
a ruler and what a subject.
SOCRATES: Do you mean that a rhapsode will know better than
the pilot what the ruler of a sea-tossed vessel ought to
say?
ION: No; the pilot will know best.
SOCRATES: Or will the rhapsode know better than the
physician what the ruler of a sick man ought to say?
ION: He will not.
SOCRATES: But he will know what a slave ought to say?
ION: Yes.
SOCRATES: Suppose the slave to be a cowherd; the rhapsode
will know better than the cowherd what he ought to say in
order to soothe the infuriated cows?
ION: No, he will not.
SOCRATES: But he will know what a spinning-woman ought to
say about the working of wool?
ION: No.
SOCRATES: At any rate he will know what a general ought to
say when exhorting his soldiers?
ION: Yes, that is the sort of thing which the rhapsode will
be sure to know.
SOCRATES: Well, but is the art of the rhapsode the art of
the general?
ION: I am sure that I should know what a general ought to
say.
SOCRATES: Why, yes, Ion, because you may possibly have a
knowledge of the art of the general as well as of the
rhapsode; and you may also have a knowledge of horsemanship
as well as of the lyre: and then you would know when horses
were well or ill managed. But suppose I were to ask you: By
the help of which art, Ion, do you know whether horses are
well managed, by your skill as a horseman or as a performer
on the lyre-what would you answer?
ION: I should reply, by my skill as a horseman.
SOCRATES: And if you judged of performers on the lyre, you
would admit that you judged of them as a performer on the
lyre, and not as a horseman?
ION: Yes.
SOCRATES: And in judging of the general’s art, do you judge
of it as a general or a rhapsode?
ION: To me there appears to be no difference between them.
SOCRATES: What do you mean? Do you mean to say that the art
of the rhapsode and of the general is the same?
ION: Yes, one and the same.
SOCRATES: Then he who is a good rhapsode is also a good
general?
ION: Certainly, Socrates.
SOCRATES: And he who is a good general is also a good
rhapsode?
ION: No; I do not say that.
SOCRATES: But you do say that he who is a good rhapsode is
also a good general.
ION: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And you are the best of Hellenic rhapsodes?
ION: Far the best, Socrates.
SOCRATES: And are you the best general, Ion?
ION: To be sure, Socrates; and Homer was my master.
SOCRATES: But then, Ion, what in the name of goodness can
be the reason why you, who are the best of generals as well
as the best of rhapsodes in all Hellas, go about as a
rhapsode when you might be a general? Do you think that the
Hellenes want a rhapsode with his golden crown, and do not
want a general?
ION: Why, Socrates, the reason is, that my countrymen, the
Ephesians, are the servants and soldiers of Athens, and do
not need a general; and you and Sparta are not likely to
have me, for you think that you have enough generals of
your own.
SOCRATES: My good Ion, did you never hear of Apollodorus of
Cyzicus?
ION: Who may he be?
SOCRATES: One who, though a foreigner, has often been
chosen their general by the Athenians: and there is
Phanosthenes of Andros, and Heraclides of Clazomenae, whom
they have also appointed to the command of their armies and
to other offices, although aliens, after they had shown
their merit. And will they not choose Ion the Ephesian to
be their general, and honour him, if he prove himself
worthy? Were not the Ephesians originally Athenians, and
Ephesus is no mean city? But, indeed, Ion, if you are
correct in saying that by art and knowledge you are able to
praise Homer, you do not deal fairly with me, and after all
your professions of knowing many glorious things about
Homer, and promises that you would exhibit them, you are
only a deceiver, and so far from exhibiting the art of
which you are a master, will not, even after my repeated
entreaties, explain to me the nature of it. You have
literally as many forms as Proteus; and now you go all
manner of ways, twisting and turning, and, like Proteus,
become all manner of people at once, and at last slip away
from me in the disguise of a general, in order that you may
escape exhibiting your Homeric lore. And if you have art,
then, as I was saying, in falsifying your promise that you
would exhibit Homer, you are not dealing fairly with me.
But if, as I believe, you have no art, but speak all these
beautiful words about Homer unconsciously under his
inspiring influence, then I acquit you of dishonesty, and
shall only say that you are inspired. Which do you prefer
to be thought, dishonest or inspired?
ION: There is a great difference, Socrates, between the two
alternatives; and inspiration is by far the nobler.
SOCRATES: Then, Ion, I shall assume the nobler alternative;
and attribute to you in your praises of Homer inspiration,
and not art.