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by Plato

Translated by Benjamin Jowett (1817-1893)


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

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.




Translated by Benjamin Jowett


SOCRATES:  Welcome, Ion.  Are you from your native city of Ephesus?

ION:  No, Socrates; but from Epidaurus, where I attended the festival of

SOCRATES:  And do the Epidaurians have contests of rhapsodes at the

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

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

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

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

ION:  Yes.

SOCRATES:  And if a different knowledge, then a knowledge of different

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

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

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

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

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

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.

End of Etext of Ion, by Plato
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