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THE MYTHS OF PLATO
THE
MYTHS OF PLATO
TRANSLATED
WITH INTRODUCTORY AND OTHER OBSERVATIONS
BY
J. A. STEWART, M.A.
STUDENT AND TUTOR OF CHRIST CHURCH AND WHITE'S PROFESSOR
OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD ;
HON. LL.D., EDINBURGH
London
MACMILLAN AND OCO., LimttepD
NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1905
All rights reserved
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PREFACE
THE object of this volume is to furnish the reader with material
for estimating the characteristics and influence of Plato the
Mythologist, or Prophet, as distinguished from Plato the
Dialectician, or Reasoner.
In order to effect this special object within a reasonable
space, it was necessary to extract the Myths from the Dialogues
in which they occur, with only the shortest possible indication
of the Context in each case, and to confine the Observations
to the Myths as individual pieces and as a series. The reader,
therefore, must not expect to find in the Observations on, say,
the Phaedo Myth or the Phaedrus Myth a Study of the Phaedo
or the Phaedrus.
The Greek text printed opposite the Translations and
followed by them throughout, except in a few places where
preferred readings are given in footnotes, is that of Stallbaum’s
Platonis Opera Omnia Uno Volumine Comprehensa (1867).
I owe a large debt of gratitude to two friends for help
received.
Professor J. 8. Phillimore read all the Translations through
in proof with the most friendly care; and errors which may be
detected in these Translations will, I feel sure, turn out to be
in places where, from some cause or other, I may have failed
to make proper use of his suggestions.
The other friend who helped me, Frederick York Powell,
is gone. A few weeks before his last illness began to cause
serious anxiety to his friends, he read through all the
Υ
vi THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Translations in manuscript up to the Phaedrus Myth, inclusive,
and I read to him nearly the whole of the Introduction, and
also other parts, especially those relating to the Theory of
Poetry. The help he then gave me by his suggestive and
sympathetic discussion of various points closed a long series of
acts of friendship on which I shall always look back with a
feeling of deep gratitude.
J. A. STEWART,
OxFORD, December 1904.
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
1. The Platonic Drama—Two elements to be distinguished in it: Argumentative
Conversation and Myth. Pages 1-4
2. General remarks on μυθολογία, or Story- telling — Primitive Story-telling
described as ἀνθρωπολογία καὶ fwodoyia—Stories, or Myths, are (1) Simply
Anthropological and Zoological ; (2) Aetiological ; (3) Eschatological—A
Myth, as distinguished from an Allegory, has no Moral or Other-
meaning . d 4-20
3. Plato’s Myths dietinenizhed from Mlegories—To ‘what ΩΝ to what
‘Part of the Soul,” does the Platonic Myth appeal? To that part which
expresses itself, not in ‘theoretic judgments,” but in ‘‘value-judgments,”
or rather “‘ value-feelings’”—The effect produced in us by the Platonic
Myth is essentially that produced by Poetry ; ‘‘ Transcendental Feeling,”
the sense of the overshadowing presence of ‘‘ That which was, and is, and
ever shall be,” is awakened in us—Passages from the Poets, quoted to
exemplify the production of this effect . . , 20-39
4, ‘Transcendental Feeling” explained genetically as the reflection i in Conscious-
ness of the Life of the ‘‘ Vegetative Part of the Soul,” the fundamental
principle in us, and in all living creatures, which silently, in timeless
sleep, makes the assumption on which the whole rational life of Conduct
and Science rests, the assumption that ‘‘ Life is worth living,” that there is
a Cosmos, in which, and of which, it is good to be—‘ Transcendental
Feeling” is thus Solemn Sense of Timeless Being, and Conviction that
Life is good, and is the beginning and end of Metaphysics—It is with the
production of the first of these two phases of ‘‘ Transcendental Feeling”
that the Platonic Myth, and Poetry generally, are chiefly concerned—
The Platonic Myth rouses and regulates this mode of ‘‘ Transcendental
Feeling” for the use of Conduct and Science . j 39-42
5. The Platonic Myth rouses and_ regulates Pv iciehadnatal Feeling” by
(1) Imaginative Representation of Ideas of Reason,” and (2) Imaginative
Deduction of ‘‘ Categories of the Understanding” and ‘‘ Moral Virtues”’
—Distinction between “Ideas” and “Categories” implicit in Plato—
Kant’s distinction explained—Why does Plato employ Myth when he
“represents” Ideas of Reason, Soul, Cosmos, God, and when he
** deduces” Categories of the Understanding and Moral Virtues? 42-51
6. Plato’s treatment of the ‘‘Ideaof God” . : ἔ ‘ 51-60
vii
B,
244
Viii THE MYTHS OF PLATO
7. Plato’s treatment of the ‘‘Idea of Soul”—Agnosticism of Plato’s day with
regard to the Immortality of the Soul—Influence of Orphic Belief as felt
by Pindar and Plato—Plato’s Eschatological Myths plainly reproduce the
matter of Orphic teaching Ἶ . Pages 60-71
8. Summary of Introductory Observations in the form of a defence of Plato
against a charge brought against him by Kant, Kritik d. reinen Vernunft,
Einleitung, § 3—Plato’s Myths (roughly distinguished as (1) representing
Ideas of Reason, or Ideals, and (2) deducing Categories, Faculties,
Virtues, i.e. tracing them back to their origins) will be taken in the
following order: (a) as representing Ideas of Reason, the Phaedo Myth,
the Gorgias Myth, the Myth of Er (the three Eschatological Myths par
excellence), the Politicus Myth together with the Myth of the Golden Age,
the Protagoras Myth (Aetiological Myths), and the Discourse of Timaeus ;
(b) as chiefly concerned with the deduction of Categories or Virtues, the
Phaedrus Myth, the Meno Myth, and the Myth told by Aristophanes
and Discourse of Diotima in the Symposiwm; (c) the Atlantis Myth
and the Myth of the Earth-born, which respectively represent the
Ideals and deduce the Categories of the Nation, as distinguished from
the Individual . : ‘ 72-76
THE PHAEDO MYTH
Context of the Myth ‘ : A : : μ ; 77
Translation . A : 79-93
OBSERVATIONS ON THE PHAEDO MytH
1. Plato’s method of giving verisimilitude to Myth, by bringing it into conform-
ity with the ‘‘ Modern Science” of his day, illustrated from the Phaedo,
and paralleled from Henry More ; . 94-101
2. The subject of the last section further illustrated ty reference to the parallel
between Plato’s Geography of Tartarus and the ‘‘True Surface of the
Earth” and Dante’s Geography of Hell, Purgatory, and the Earthly
Paradise—The parallelism between Plato and Dante dwelt on chiefly
with the view of suggesting the method by which we may best under-
stand the function of Myth in the Platonic Philosophy, the method of
sealing the impression made on us by the Myth of one great master
by the study of the Myth of another with whom we may happen to be
in closer sympathy . . 101-113
3. The distinction between Dogma) and Myth insisted ‘upon by Socrates,
Phaedo, 114 D—*‘ Moral ΕΝ tae ” the “ of the Phaedo
Myth . 3 118-114
THE GORGIAS MYTH
Context i : : A ‘ 115
Translation . , . ; 117-125
CONTENTS ix
OBSERVATIONS ON ΤῊΝ Gorcias ΜΥΤῊ
1. ‘*Moral Responsibility is the motif of the Gorgias Myth, as it is of the
Phaedo Myth—The Gorgias Myth sets forth, in a Vision of Judgment,
Penance, and Purification, the continuity and sameness of the Active,
as distinguished from the Passive, Self, the Self as actively developing its
native power under the discipline of correction, κόλασις, not as being the
mere victim of vengeance, ryuwpla—Death as Philosopher Pages 126-128
2. The mystery of the infinite difference between Vice with Large Opportunity
and Vice with Narrow Opportunity —, ; . 129-130
8. Observations on Tablets aflixed to the Judged ‘Shite on the Meadow of
Judgment, and on the Three Ways : . 180-132
THE MYTH OF ER
Context . ᾿ ‘ : ; ‘ : 133
Translation ‘ , . ‘ ; 5 ν , 185-151
OBSERVATIONS ON THE ΜΎΤΗ or ER
1, Cosmography and Geography of the Myth . #@ . . 152-154
2. Dante’s Lethe and Eunoé taken in connection ‘with the Orphio Ritual and
Mythology, to which Plato is Jargely indebted for his account of the
Soul’s κάθαρσις as a Process of Forgettingand Remembering . 154-161
3. More about the Cosmography and Geography of the Myth—The Pillar of
Light, the Spindle of Necessity, the Model of the Cosmos in the lap
of Necessity ‘ . 162-169
4. The great philosophical qnestion raised and solved in the Myth, How to
reconcile ‘‘ Free Will” with the ‘‘ Reign of Law”’ ; . 169-172
THE POLITICUS MYTH
Introductory Remarks . : ; : : : . 173-174
Context . : ς : : ; R : 175
Translation : : : , 7.181
Translation of the Myth of the Gosden A ge Ἀ 3 . 193-195
OBSERVATIONS ON THE PoLiTicus ΜΎΤΗ
1. Relation of the Politicws Myth to the “‘ Science” of Plato’s day . 196-197
2. Is Plato “‘in earnest” in supposing that God, from time to time, withdraws
from the government of the World? . ν . ὃ 197-198
3. Resurrection τοῦ Metempsychosis 3 198-200
4. ‘The Problem of Evil” raised in the, ΓΈΝΟΣ Myth—How does Plato
suppose the solution of this problem to be furthered by an Aetiological
Myth like that of the Politicus’—The value of Aetiological Myth as
helping us to ‘‘solve” a ‘‘ universal difficulty” as distinguished from a
‘*particular difficulty’”—It helps us to ‘‘put by” the former kind of
x THE MYTHS OF PLATO
difficulty—The Kalewala quoted to illustrate the function of Aetiological
Myth—The Story of the Birth of Iron—Transition from the Politicus
Myth to the ‘‘Creation Myths” eet so called, the Protagoras Myth,
and the Discourse of Timaeus_ . , . Pages 200-211
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH
Context of the Myth ; ἴ : : , ; . 212-213
Translation : : 7 ᾿ . ᾿ ὃ . 215-219
OBSERVATIONS ON THE PROTAGORAS ΜΎΤΗ
1. Is it a ‘‘ Platonic Myth,” or only a ‘‘ Sophistic Apologue ” ?—It is a true Myth,
as setting forth a priori elements in man’s experience . . 220-222
2. It sets forth the distinction between the ‘‘mechanical” and the ‘‘teleo-
logical” explanation of the World and its parts—It raises the question
discussed in Kant’s Critique of Judgment ν . 222-226
8. Account given in the Myth of the 7 of Virtue as distinguished from
Art . 226-228
4. A Sculptured Myth, the Prometheus "Sarcophagus in the Capitoline
Museum . . 228-229
5. The difference betwee Myth and ‘Allegory—Sketch of the History of Alle-
gorical Interpretation—The interpreters of Homer and of Greek Mythology
—Philo—The Christian Fathers—The Neo-Platonists—Dante—Plato’s
Allegory of the Cave (which is a Myth as well as an Allegory)—His Alle-
gory of the piasicabel Crew — sas and sii compared with
Ritual . : . 230-258
THE TIMAEUS
Context . ; : ; ᾿ ; ; ; ; 259
Translation . ’ ; : : Ἶ . 261-297
OBSERVATIONS ON THE JIMAEUS
1. General observations on its scope. : ‘ Ἶ . 298-802
2. Purification and Metempsychosis_. ; : . 802-304
3. On the Creation of Souls. : ; ; ᾿ . 804-305
THE PHAEDRUS MYTH
Context of the Myth : : : : . 806.807
Translation ‘ ; . . : ; . 809-335
OBSERVATIONS ON THE PHAEDRUS MytTH
1. Preliminary . ὁ 336
2. The Phaedrus Myth as giving ae Deduction " of the Categories of the Under-
standing—But it also sets forth the Ideas of Reason. . 837-339
—
CONTENTS xi
8. The doctrines of ᾿Ανάμνησις, 'Epws, Lmortality--The Jfeno Myth translated,
and compared with the Phaedrus Myth—In what sense is the ‘' Doctrine
of Ideas" ‘‘ mythical’, , ; ; Pages 339-349
4, The Number 729, : ; . ' ' . 849.300
5. Tho celestial, or astronomical, mise en scéne of the ‘ History of the Soul” in
the Phaedrus Myth, and the importance of that mise en seéne for sub-
sequent philosophical and religious thought down to Dante . 350-381
6. Poetic Inspiration. ᾿ : ; Ξ ᾿ . 8.82-39θ0
THE TWO SYMPOSIUM MYTHS
Context of the Myths. : : : 397
I.—THE MYTH TOLD BY ARISTOPHANES
Translation ᾿ P ᾿ ν ᾿ : ‘ : 399-407
GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON THE ΜΎΤΗ
and comparison with the Zagreus Myth and with Rabelais. . 408-413
II.—THE DISCOURSE OF DIOTIMA
Translation : ; ‘ ς ν ᾿ ! ᾿ 415-427
OBSERVATIONS ON THE DiscouRsE OF DIoTIMA
1. The Discourse at once an Allegory and a Myth—May be taken as a study of
the Prophetic Temperament—The nature of Prophecy . . 428-484
2, The History of the Doctrine of Daemons . : : . 434-450
GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON MYTHS
WHICH SET FORTH THE NATION’s, AS DISTINGUISHED FROM
THE INDIVIDUAL’S, IDEALS AND CATEGORIES
Myths in which we have the spectacle of a Nation’s life, (a) led on by a Vision
of its Future, (Ὁ) conditioned by its Past. These are (a) the Atlantis
Myth in the Zimaeus and Critias, which, taken in connection with the
account of the Ideal State in the Republic, sets forth the Vision of an
Hellenic Empire; (Ὁ) the Myth of the Earth-born in the Republic 451-456
THE ATLANTIS MYTH
Abbreviated translation, or rendering . ὁ. ‘ ; . 457-464
OBSERVATIONS ON THE ATLANTIS ΜΎΤΗ
The Geology and Geography of the Myth - 465-469
xii THE MYTHS OF PLATO
THE MYTH OF THE EARTH-BORN
Translation, ° : Ξ , ' 4 Pages 471-473
Note on the Myth of the Earth-born . ν , : , 474
CONCLUSION—THE MYTHOLOGY AND METAPHYSICS
OF THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS
The ‘‘Cambridge Platonists” represent Plato the Mythologist, or Prophet,
rather than Plato the Dialectician, or Reasoner, and in this respect are
important for the understanding of our modern English “ Idealists,” who,
it is contended, are ‘‘ Platonists” of the same kind as Cudworth and his
associates : : ; : ; . 475-519
INTRODUCTION
l. Tuk PLATONIC DRAMA
THE Platonic Dialogue may be broadly described as a Drama
in which speech is the action,’ and Socrates and his companions
are the actors. The speech in which the action consists is
mainly that of argumentative conversation in which, although
Socrates or another may take a leading part, yet everybody has
his say. The conversation or argument is always about matters
which can be profitably discussed—that is, matters on which
men form workaday opinions which discussion may show to
be right or wrong, wholly or in part.
But it is only mainly that the Platonic Drama consists in
argumentative conversation. It contains another element, the
Myth, which, though not ostensibly present in some Dialogues,
is so striking in others, some of them the greatest, that we
are compelled to regard it, equally with the argumentative
conversation, as essential to Plato’s philosophical style.
The Myth is a fanciful tale, sometimes traditional, some-
times newly invented, with which Socrates or some other
interlocutor interrupts or concludes the argumentative conversa-
tion in which the movement of the Drama mainly consists.
The object of this work is to examine the examples of the
Platonic Myth in order to discover its function in the organism
of the Platonic Drama. That Myth is an organic part of the
Platonic Drama, not an added ornament, is a point about
which the experienced reader of Plato can have no doubt.
The Sophists probably ornamented their discourses and made
1 Cf. Cratylus, 387 B, τὸ λέγειν μία τίς ἐστι τῶν πράξεων.
Β
2 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
them more interesting by the insertion of illustrative fables or
allegories like the Choice of Hercules ;* but the Platonic Myth
is not illustrative—it is not Allegory rendering pictorially
results already obtained by argument. Of this the experienced
reader of Plato is well aware. He feels when the brisk debate
is silenced for a while, and Socrates or another great interlocutor
opens his mouth in Myth, that the movement of the Philosophic
Drama is not arrested, but is being sustained, at a crisis, on
another plane. The Myth bursts in upon the Dialogue with
a revelation of something new and strange; the narrow, matter-
of-fact, workaday experience, which the argumentative con-
versation puts in evidence, is suddenly flooded, as it were,
and transfused by the inrush of a vast experience, as from
another world—* Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the
place whereon thou standest is holy ground.”
It is in the mouth of the dramatic Socrates that Plato puts
those Myths best fitted to fill us with wondering surmise and
make us think—the so-called Eschatological Myths. It may
be that here Plato represents a trait of the real Socrates.
Socrates’ method of argumentative conversation, it is fully
recognised, determined the dialogue-form of the Platonic
writings. It may be that also the introduction of Myths, at
least of the Eschatological Myths—Myths distinguished by
great impressiveness of matter and style—was suggested to
Plato by something in the real Socrates. The personal influence
of Socrates worked as a vital principle in Plato’s mind, and
bodied itself forth in Socratic dramas—plays in which, as 1
have said, Socrates and his companions are the actors, and
philosophical discourse is the action. Any element, then, in
the Platonic writings which the experienced reader finds of
great dramatic moment—and the Myth is suech—is likely to
represent some striking trait in the person and influence of the
real Socrates. In the Myths put into his mouth Socrates
prophesies—sets forth, by the aid of imaginative language, the
fundamental conditions of conduct and knowledge. He
‘‘ prophesies,” and his hearers listen spellbound. That Socrates
possessed what is now called mesmeric influence is very likely.
The comparison of his influence (in ordinary debate) with that
1 See Grote’s Plato, ii. 38, note 6,
INTRODUCTION 3
of the electric fish, ἡ θαλαττία νάρκη, may be thought to
imply as much; while his familiar spirit, or δαιμόνιον, must
be taken as evidence of “abnormality.”* I venture to offer
the suggestion, for what it may be worth, that the Platonic
Myths, in manner if not always in matter, represent (directly
as spoken by “Socrates” himself, indirectly as spoken by
“'Timaeus,” “ Critias,” “ Protagoras,” “the Eleatic Stranger”)
certain impressive passages in the conversation of the real
Socrates, when he held his hearers spellbound by the magnetism
of his face and speech. Be this as it may, Myth distinguished
once for all by weight and ring from Allegory ® is an essential
element of Plato’s philosophical style; and his philosophy
cannot be understood apart from it.‘
The main plan of this work is to append to the English
translation of each of the Platonic Myths observations and
notes relating specially to that Myth itself. Each Myth is a
unique work of art, and must be dealt with individually in its
own context. But I hope that the general effect of these
special observations will be to leave the reader, at the end,
with an adequate impression of the significance of Myth, first
in Plato’s philosophy, and then in present-day thought.
Before beginning, however, to carry out the main plan of
1 Meno, 80 A.
3 Hegel (Gesch. d. Philos. ii. 94-101) regards the δαιμόνιον as a “ magnetic”
phenomenon, physiologically explicable. C. R. Volquardsen (Das Daémonium des
Socrates und seine Interpreten, Kiel, 1862) holds (pp. 58 and 71) that it cannot
be explained by any daw of anthropology or physiology, but is a ‘‘ singular”
phenomenon. Zeller (Socrates and the Socratic Schools, pp. 72-79, Eng. Transl.)
concludes that it is ‘‘a vague apprehension of some good or ill result following on
certain actions.”
F. W. H. Myers (Human Personality, ii. 95 ff.) cites the δαιμόνιον of Socrates
“fas an example of wise automatism ; of the possibility that the messages which
are conveyed to the supraliminal mind from subliminal strata of the personality
—whether as sounds, as sights, or as movements—may sometimes come from far
beneath the realm of dream and confusion,—from some self whose monitions
convey to us a wisdom profounder than we know” (p. 100). Against L. F. Lélut
(Du Démon de Socrate, 1856), who argues from the records of the δαιμόνιον in
Xenophon and Plato that Socrates was insane, Myers contends (p. 95) that ‘‘it
is now possible to give a truer explanation ; to place these old records in juxta-
position with more instructive parallels ; and to show that the messages which
Socrates received were only advanced examples of a process which, if supernormal,
is not abnormal, and which characterises that form of intelligence which we
describe as genius.” Dr. H. Jackson’s article on “the δαιμόνιον σημεῖον of Socrates”
in the Journal of Philology (vol. x. pp. 232 ff.) may also be referred to, and
Kiihner’s Prolegomena (v. de Socratis δαιμονίῳ) to his edition of Xen. Mem.
3 See infra, p. 15 and pp. 230 ff.
4 Zeller’s Plato, pp. 159-163 (Eng. Transl.), may be read in connection with
this and preceding paragraphs.
4 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
this work, I will offer some preliminary remarks on μυθολογία,
or story-telling in general, in the course of which I hope to
indicate what I conceive to be the ground of Plato’s methodical
employment of it in philosophy.
2. GENERAL REMARKS ON μυθολογία, OR STORY-TELLING.
MYTH DISTINGUISHED FROM ALLEGORY
It is a profound remark that Imagination rather than
Reason makes the primary difference between man and brute.’
The brute lives mainly among the immediate impressions of
sense, The after-images of these impressions are evidently of
little account in his life, being feeble and evanescent.”
But man lives a double life—not only, with the brute, in
the narrow world of present sensations, but also in a wide world
of his own, where his mind is continually visited and re-visited
by crowds of vivid, though often grotesque and grotesquely
combined, images of past sense-impressions, It is in this wide
wonder-world of waking dream, which encompasses the narrow
familiar world of his present sense-impressions, that man begins
his human career. It is here that the savage and the child
begin to acquire what the brute has no such opportunity of
beginning to acquire, and never does acquire,—a sense of vast
environment and of the long course of time. This waking
dream, which constitutes so great a part of man’s childish
experience, probably owes much of its content to the dreams
of sleep. Some of the lower animals, as well as man, seem to
have dreams in sleep. But man, we may suppose, differs from
' “Tn the lower stages of civilisation Imagination, more than Reason, dis-
tinguishes men from the animals ; and to banish art would be to banish thought,
to banish language, to banish the expression of all truth.”—Jowett, Dialogues of
Pilato, Introduction to the Republic, p. elxiv.
2 “At the proper season these birds (swallows) seem all day long to be im-
pressed with the τὰ to migrate ; their habits change ; they become restless,
are noisy, and congregate in flocks. Whilst the mother-bird is feeding, or
brooding over her nestlings, the maternal instinct is probably stronger than the
migratory ; but the instinct which is the more persistent gains the victory, and
at aa at a moment when her young ones are not in sight, she takes flight and
deserts them. When arrived at the end of her long journey, and the migratory
instinct has ceased to act, what an agony of remorse the bird would feel if, from
being endowed with great mental activity, she could not prevent the image
constantly passing through her mind of her young ones perishing in the bleak
north from cold and hunger” (Darwin, The Descent of Man, part i. chap. iv.
p. 173, ed. 1901).
INTRODUCTION 5
the lower animals in remembering his dreams. And he can
tell them, and improve upon them in the telling, whether they
be dreams of sleep or waking dreams—indeed, he must tell
them. ‘They are so vivid that they will out; he cannot keep
them to himself; and, besides, the telling of them gives what
may be called secondary expression and relief to certain
emotions and feelings, which in the case of the brute find only
primary expression in acts within the world of sense-impres-
sions. In the case of man, fear, confidence, anger, love, hate,
curiosity, wonder, find not only primary expression in acts
within the world of sense-experience, but also secondary and,
as it were, dramatic expression in the adventures and doings
of the dream-world, all circumstantially told. It is impossible
to over-estimate the early debt which man owes to his love of
story-telling thus inspired and supplied with material. In
telling and listening to stories about the dream-world, man, in
short, learns to think. The dream-world of the primitive
story-teller and his audience is a large, easy world, in which
they can move about freely as they like—in which they are
rid of the hard facts of the world of sense-experience, and can
practise their powers without hindrance on tractable material,
calling up images and combining them at will, as the story goes
on, and thus educating, in play, the capacity which, afterwards
applied to the explanation of the world of sense-experience,
appears as the faculty of constructive thought. The first
essays of this faculty are the so-called Aetiological Myths,
which attempt to construct a connection between the world of
sense-experience and the dream-world—which take the dream-
world as the context which explains the world of sense-
experience. Judged by the standard of positive science the
matter of the context supplied from the dream-world by the
mythopoeic fancy is in itself, of course, worthless; but the
mind is enlarged by the mere contemplation of it; the habit
of looking for a context in which to read the sense-given is
acquired, and matter satisfactory to science is easily received
when it afterwards presents itself. The conceptual context of
science thus gradually comes to occupy the place once filled by
the fantastical context of the dream-world. But this is not
the only respect in which the mythopoeic fancy serves the
development of man. If it prepares the way for the exercise
6 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
of the scientific understanding, it also indicates limits within
which that exercise must be confined. This it does by
supplying an emotional context, if the phrase may be used,
along with the fantastical context. The visions of the
mythopoeic fancy are received by the Self of ordinary
consciousness with a strange surmise of the existence, in
another world, of another Self which, while it reveals itself in
these visions, has a deep secret which it will not disclose. It
is good that a man should thus be made to feel in his heart
how small a part of him his head is—that the Scientific
Understanding should be reminded that it is not the Reason—
the Part, that it is not the Whole Man. Herein chiefly
lies the present value of Myth (or of its equivalent, Poetry,
Music, or whatever else) for civilised man.
The stories which the primitive inhabitants of the dream-
world love to tell one another are always about the wonderful
adventures and doings of people and animals. ᾿Ανθρωπολογία
καὶ Zwodoyia’ may be taken as a full description of these
stories. The adventures and doings happened “Once upon a
time ”—“ Long ago ”——“ Somewhere, not here ”—that is preface
enough for the most improbable story,—it receives belief ormake-
believe simply because it is very interesting—because the animals
speak and behave like people, and everything else happens
topsy-turvy in a wonderful manner, and there is no lack of
bloodshed and indecency. If the story is not “ very interesting,”
i.e. not marvellous, gruesome, indecent, it does not carry belief
or make-believe, and is not interesting at all. The attitude of
make-believe, which I have mentioned, is worth the careful
attention of the psychologist. This is not the place to analyse
it. I will only say that it seems to me likely that it is very
often the attitude of the primitive story-teller and his audience.
The story may be very interesting to its teller and audience
without being believed, This is as true, I take it, of a grotesque
Zulu tale as of a modern novel written with due regard to
probability or a jeu d’esprit like Alice in Wonderland. But it
the story is very interesting, there will always be make-believe
1 I hope that I may be pardoned for introducing two words which are not in
Liddell and Scott, but seem to be justitied, in the sense in which I use them, by
Aristotle’s ἀνθρωπολόγος (HL. N. iv. 3. 31)=‘‘ fond of personal talk.”
? Coleridge, referring to Lyrical Ballads, speaks of ‘‘ that willing suspension
of disbelief for the moment, which constitutes poetic faith.”
INTRODUCTION
at least, and often serious, deliberate make-believe. It is in
the spirit of this serious make-believe that not only the little
girl talks about her dolls, but we ourselves read our Dante, or
make pilgrimages to places associated with the events of great
fiction. The adventures of Robinson Crusoe and the journey
of Dr. Johnson are followed with little difference in our sense
of actuality. The topography of the Jnferno and that of the
Roman Forum are approached in much the same spirit by the
interested student in each case. These instances from civilised
experience may serve to show how vague the line must be
dividing belief from make-believe in the mind of primitive man
with his turbulent feelings and vivid imagination controlled by
no uniform standard of ascertained fact.' His tendency is to
believe whatever he tells and is told. That he sometimes stops
short of belief at make-believe is, after all,a small matter. At
any rate, we may be sure that Nature in this case, as in all
other cases, does nothing that is superfluous—ovdév ποιεῖ
περίεργον οὐδὲ μάτην ἡ φύσις. If make-believe serve Nature’s
“purpose” as well as belief, which is more difficult, she will
take care that her protégé stops at make-believe. Certain
stories, we assume, have to be wonderful or horrid up to a
certain pitch, in order to give full expression and relief to
feeling and imagination at a certain stage of development ;
and the belief without which these necessary stories could not
maintain themselves at all, we further assume, will be that
which comes easiest, 1.6. make-believe.
It is plain that in proportion as stories are more
extravagantly wonderful or horrid, the more likely is make-
believe to be the attitude of tellers and hearers; and that, where
this is the attitude, stories are likely to go on becoming more
and more extravagantly wonderful or horrid.
This is one tendency which, however, is met by another.
When a wonderful story is often told and becomes very
familiar, it comes to be believed more seriously ; and, in propor-
tion as it is believed more seriously, it tends to disembarrass itself
more and more of the wilder improbabilities which pleased when
the attitude towards it was still that of make-believe. An im-
1 Professor Tylor (Primitive Culture, i. 284) describes ‘‘a usual state of the
imagination among ancient and savage peoples” as ‘‘intermediate between the
conditions of a healthy prosaic modern citizen and a raving fanatic or a patient
in a fever-ward.”
8 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
promptu story full of extravagant improbability and, it may be,
of revolting indecency is told about some one. When and if that
some one afterwards comes to be regarded, it may be on the sole
authority of this story itself, as a hero or god of the race, those
who revere him become ashamed of the old story about him.
They rationalise and moralise it, either leaving out the improb-
abilities and indecencies, and retaining the parts that are probable
and proper; or allegorising it,7.e. showing that the improbabilities
and indecencies are not to be regarded as historical facts, but to
be interpreted as figures of some philosophic or scientific or
religious doctrine favoured by the interpreters. Thus make-
believe accumulates material for the “ higher criticism.”
᾿Ανθρωπολογία καὶ Zworoyia— “ about people and animals ”
—is a sufficient account of what story-telling always is and
why it is interesting.
1. Sometimes the story is about adventures and doings
which happened once upon a time, and left no results to en-
hance the interest which belongs to it intrinsically as a story
about people and animals. Such a story may be called
“Simply Anthropological and Zoological.”
A very large elephant came and said, “‘ Whose are those re-
markably beautiful children?” The child replied, ‘‘ Unanana-
bosele’s.” The elephant asked a second time, ‘‘ Whose are those
remarkably beautiful children?” The child replied, “ Unanana-
bosele’s.” The elephant said, “‘She built in the road on purpose,
trusting to self-confidence and superior power.” He swallowed
them both, and left the little child. The elephant then went
away.
In the afternoon the mother came and said, “ Where are the
children?” The little girl said, ‘‘They have been taken away by
an elephant with one tusk.” Unanana-bosele said, “ Where did
he put them?” The little girl replied, ‘‘ He ate them.” Unanana-
bosele said, ‘‘Are they dead?” The little girl replied, “No, I
do not know.”
They retired to rest. In the morning she ground much maize,
and put it into a large pot with amasi, and set out, carrying a
knife in her hand. She came to the place where there was an
antelope ; she said, “‘ Mother, mother, point out for me the elephant
which has eaten my children; she has one tusk.” The antelope
said, ‘You will go till you come to a place where the trees are
very high and where the stones are white.” She went on.
She came to the place where was the leopard; she said
INTRODUCTION 9
“Mother, mother, point out for me the elephant which has eaten
my children,” The leopard replied, ‘ You will go on and on, and
come to the place where the trees are high and where the stones
are white.”
She went on, passing all animals, all saying the same. When
she was still at a great distance she saw some very high trees, and
white stones below them. She saw the elephant lying under the
trees. She went on; when she came to the elephant she stood
still and said, ‘“‘ Mother, mother, point out for me the elephant
which has eaten my children.” The elephant replied, “ You will
go on and on, and come to where the trees are high and where the
stones are white.” The woman merely stood still, and asked again
saying, “‘ Mother, mother, point out for me the elephant which has
eaten my children.” ‘The elephant again told her just to pass
onward. But the woman, seeing that it was the very elephant she
was seeking, and that she was deceiving her by telling her to go
forward, said a third time, “ Mother, mother, point out for me the
elephant which has eaten my children.”
The elephant seized her and swallowed her too. When she
reached the elephant’s stomach, she saw large forests, and great
rivers, and many high lands; on one side there were many rocks ;
and there were many people who had built their villages there ;
and many dogs and many cattle; all was there inside the
elephant ; she saw, too, her own children sitting there. She gave
them amasi, and asked them what they ate before she came. They
said, “‘ We have eaten nothing, we merely lay down.” She said,
“Why did you not roast this flesh?” They said, “If we eat this
beast, will it not kill us?” Shesaid, “No; it will itself die; you
will not die.” She kindled a great fire. She cut the liver, and
roasted it and ate with her children. They cut also the flesh and
roasted and ate.
All the people which were there wondered, saying, ‘‘Oh, forsooth,
are they eating, whilst we have remained without eating any-
thing?” The woman said, “ Yes, yes. The elephant can be eaten.”
All the people cut and ate.
And the elephant told the other beasts, saying, ‘“‘ From the time
I swallowed the woman I have been ill; there has been a pain in
my stomach.” The other animals said, “It may be, O chief, it
arises because there are now so many people in your stomach.”
And it came to pass after a long time that the elephant died. The
woman divided the elephant with a knife, cutting through a rib
with an axe. A cow came out and said, ‘“‘ Moo, moo, we at length
see the country.” A goat came out and said, “Mey, mey, at
length we see the country.” A dog came out and said, “‘ At length
we see the country.” And the people came out laughing and
saying, “At length we see the country.” They made the woman
10 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
presents; some gave her cattle, some goats, and some sheep.
She set out with her children, being very rich. She went home
rejoicing because she had come back with her children. On her
arrival her little girl was there; she rejoiced, because she was
thinking that her mother was dead.!
2. Sometimes the story is about doings and adventures
which produced interesting results which remain, and are
explained by means of these doings and adventures—as when
the shape of a hill is explained by the action of some giant or
wizard—*“ He cleft the Eildon Hills in three.” This is the
Aetiological Story. It is not only interesting as a piece of
simple anthropology,—every story must have that intrinsic
interest,—but it satisfies what may be called the “scientific
curiosity "—the desire to know the causes of things. It sets
forth the cause.
To the class of Aetiological Stories belong those myths in
which the creation of the heavens and earth as one whole
is set forth—the so-called Cosmological Myths; also myths
which set forth the creation of man, and the origin of his
faculties and virtues; also Foundation Myths describing the
origin of society and of particular nations and cities, as well
as myths describing the invention of the arts and their
instruments; and myths—a large and important section—
explaining the origin of ritual practices—the so-called Cultus
Myths; and lastly, myths explaining topographical features
and the peculiarities of animals and plants.
The “scientific” curiosity which inspires these Aetio-
logical Stories is not idle. Curiosity, indeed, is never idle.
“To know the cause” is matter of much practical concern
to the savage as well as to the civilised man. If one knows
the cause one can control the effect. For example, to heal a
wound made by iron one must know the story οἵ the origin of
iron. That story duly recited becomes the charm which will
heal the wound? Many <Aetiological Myths doubtless have
their rise in the practice of magic.
Let me illustrate the Aetiological Myth by giving examples
of its principal varieties, beginning with a Cosmological Myth
1 Nursery Tales, Traditions, and Histories of the Zulus, Callaway, 1868, vol. i.
pp. 332 ff.
2 See infra, pp. 204 ff., where the Finnish Story of the Origin of Iron is given.
INTRODUCTION 1]
—the “Story of the Children of Heaven and Earth,” written
down by Sir George Grey among the Maoris,'
From Rangi, the Heaven, and Papa, the Earth, it is said, sprang
all men and things; but sky and earth clave together, and darkness
rested upon them and the beings they had begotten, till at last
their children took counsel whether they should rend apart their
parents or slay them. Then ‘Tane-mahuta, father of forests, said
to his five great brethren, “It is better to rend them apart, and
let the heaven stand far above us, and the earth lie under our
feet. Let the sky become as a stranger to us, but the earth
remain close to us as our nursing mother.” So Rongo-ma-tane,
god and father of the cultivated food of man, rose and strove to
separate the heaven and the earth; he struggled, but in vain; and
vain, too, were the efforts of Tangaroa, father of fish and reptiles,
and of Haumia-tikitiki, father of wild-growing food, and of Tu-
matauenga, god and father of fierce men. Then slow uprises
Tane-mahuta, god and father of forests, and wrestles with his
parents, striving to part them with his hands and arms. “ Lo, he
pauses ; his head is now firmly planted on his mother the earth,
his feet he raises up and rests against his father the skies, he
strains his back and limbs with mighty effort. Now are rent
apart Rangi and Papa, and with cries and groans of woe they
shriek aloud. . . . But Tane-mahuta pauses not; far, far beneath
him he presses down the earth; far, far above him he thrusts up
the sky.” But Tawhiri-ma-tea, father of winds and storms, had
never consented that his mother should be torn from her lord, and
now there arose in his breast a fierce desire to war against his
brethren. So the Storm-god rose and followed his father to the
realms above, hurrying to the sheltered hollows of the boundless
skies, to hide and cling and nestle there. Then came forth his
progeny, the mighty winds, the fierce squalls, the clouds dense,
dark, fiery, wildly drifting, wildly bursting; and in the midst
their father rushed upon his foe. Tane-mahuta and his giant
forests stood unconscious and unsuspecting when the raging
hurricane burst on them, snapping the mighty trees across, leaving
trunks and branches rent and torn upon the ground for the insect
and the grub to prey on. Then the father of storms swooped
down to lash the waters into billows whose summits rose like
cliffs, till Tangaroa, god of ocean and father of all that dwell
therein, fled affrighted through his seas. His children, Ika-tere,
the father of fish, and Tu-te-wehiwehi, the father of reptiles, —
1] give this myth as itis quoted from Grey’s Polynesian Mythology (p. 1,
ff.) by Prof. Tylor (Prim. Cult. i. 290 ff.). Mr A. Lang compares this myth,
and others like it found in India and China, with the Greek myth of the mutila-
tion of Uranus by Cronus (Custom and Myth, ‘‘The Myth of Cronus ”’).
12 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
sought where they might escape for safety; the father of fish
cried, ‘‘ Ho, ho, let us all escape to the sea;” but the father of
reptiles shouted in answer, “ Nay, nay, let us rather fly inland,”
and so these creatures separated, for while the fish fled into the
sea, the reptiles sought safety in the forests and scrubs. But the
sea-god Tangaroa, furious that his children the reptiles should
have deserted him, has ever since waged war on his brother Tane,
who gave them shelter in his woods. Tane attacks him in
return, supplying the offspring of his brother Tu-matauenga,
father of fierce men, with canoes and spears and fish-hooks made
from his trees, and with nets woven from his fibrous plants, that
they may destroy withal the fish, the Sea-god’s children; and
the Sea-god turns in wrath upon the Forest-god, overwhelms his
canoes with the surges of the sea, sweeps with floods his trees and
houses into the boundless ocean. Next the god of storms pushed on
to attack his brothers, the gods and progenitors of the tilled field
and the wild; but Papa, the Earth, caught them up and hid them,
and so safely were these her children concealed by their mother
that the Storm-god sought for them in vain. So he fell upon the
last of his brothers, the father of fierce men, but him he could not
even shake, though he put forth all his strength. What cared
Tu-matauenga for his brother’s wrath? He it was who had
planned the destruction of their parents, and had shown himself
brave and fierce in war; his brethren had yielded before the
tremendous onset of the Storm-god and his progeny ; the Forest-
god and his offspring had been broken and torn in pieces; the
Sea-god and his children had fled to the depths of the ocean or
the recesses of the shore; the gods of food had been in safe
hiding; but man still stood erect and unshaken upon the
bosom of his mother Earth, and at last the hearts of the
Heaven and the Storm became tranquil, and their passion was
assuaged.,
But now Tu-matauenga, father of fierce men, took thought how
he might be avenged upon his brethren who had left him unaided
to stand against the god of storms. He twisted nooses of the
leaves of the whanake tree, and the birds and beasts, children
of Tane the Forest-god, fell before him; he netted nets from the
flax-plant, and dragged ashore the fish, the children of Tangaroa
the Sea-god; he found in their hiding-place underground the
children of Rongo-ma-tane, the sweet potato and all cultivated
food, and the children of Haumia-tikitiki, the fern-root and all wild-
growing food; he dug them up and let them wither in the sun.
Yet, though he overcame his four brothers, and they became his
food, over the fifth he could not prevail, and Tawhiri-ma-tea, the
Storm-god, still ever attacks him in tempest and hurricane, striving
to destroy him both by sea and land. It was the bursting forth
INTRODUCTION 13
of the Storm-god’s wrath against his brethren that caused the dry
land to disappear beneath the waters: the beings of ancient days
who thus submerged the land were Terrible-rain, Long-continued-
rain, Fierce-hailstorms, and their progeny were Mist, and Heavy-
dew, and Light-dew ; and thus but little of the dry land was left
standing above the sea. Then clear light increased in the world,
and the beings who had been hidden between Rangi and Papa before
they were parted now multiplied upon the earth. “Up to this
time the vast Heaven has still ever remained separated from his
spouse the Earth. Yet their mutual love still continues: the soft
warm sighs of her loving bosom still ever rise up to him ascending
from the woody mountains and valleys, and men call these mists ;
and the vast Heaven, as he mourns through the long nights his
separation from his beloved, drops frequent tears upon her bosom,
and men seeing these term them dewdrops.”
Another important variety of the Aetiological Myth—
the Cultus Myth—is well illustrated by Grote in the follow-
ing passage : '—
It was the practice to offer to the gods in sacrifice the bones
of the victim only, enclosed in fat ; how did this practice arise ?
The author of the Hesiodic Theogony has a story which explains
it.2 Prometheus tricked Zeus into an imprudent choice, at the
period when the gods and mortal men first came to an arrangement
about privileges and duties (in Mekéné). Prometheus, the tutelary
representative of man, divided a large steer into two portions ;
on the one side he placed the flesh and guts, folded up in the
omentum and covered over with the skin; on the other he put the
bones enveloped in fat. He then invited Zeus to determine which
of the two portions the gods would prefer to receive from mankind.
Zeus “with both hands” decided for and took the white fat, but
was highly incensed on finding that he had got nothing at the bottom
except the bones. Nevertheless the choice of the gods was now
irrevocably made; they were not entitled to any portion of the
sacrificed animal beyond the bones and the white fat; and the
standing practice is thus plausibly explained. I select this as
one amongst a thousand instances to illustrate the genesis of
legend out of religious practices. In the belief of the people, the
event narrated in the legend was the real producing cause of the
practice ; but when we come to apply a sound criticism, we are
compelled to treat the event as existing only in its narrative
legend, and the legend itself as having been, in the greater number
1 Grote’s History of Greece, part i. chap. i.
3 Hesiod, Theog. 550-557.
14 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
of cases, engendered by the practice,—thus reversing the supposed
order of production.!
Let me complete my illustration of the Aetiological Myth
by giving the pretty Japanese story which accounts for the
physiological effect produced by tea :-—
It is Daruna whom legend credits with the origin of tea.
Before he went off into his present trance he made another effort
at permanent contemplation, and had failed through falling asleep
at the end of the ninth year. When he awoke he was so vexed
at his eyelids for their drooping that he cut them off. No sooner
had they fallen to the ground than, lo! they took root, sprouted,
and sent forth leaves. As the old monk looked in wonder, a disciple
of Buddha appeared and told him to brew the leaves of the new
shrub and then drink thereof. Daruna plucked the leaves, which
now all the world knows as tea, did as the vision commanded him
to do, and has not slept a minute since.”
3. From the Simply Anthropological Story and from the
Aetiological Story it is convenient to distinguish a third kind
of story, the Eschatological Story. Here the teller and his
audience are not concerned with the adventures and doings of
people once upon a time, long ago, but with adventures and
doings which they themselves must take part in after death,
like all who have gone before them. It is not to mere love
of “personal talk” or to mere “scientific curiosity” that the
Eschatological Story appeals, but to man’s wonder, and fear,
and hope with regard to death. This seems to make a great
difference, and to justify us in putting the Eschatological
Myths in a class by themselves. Where men fear and hope,
they tend to believe strongly ; and if ritual practice is associ-
ated with their fear and hope, more strongly. Hence we find
that Eschatological Myths as a class have more actuality,
more consistency and sobriety, and more dignity, than other
1 The reader who wishes to pursue the subject of the Cultus Myth may consult
Miss Harrison’s Mythology and Monuments of Ancient Athens, pp. xxvi. ff., where
he will find a very interesting treatment of the story of the birth of Erichthonios
‘as an instance of aetiological myth-making of a special kind, of a legend that
has arisen out of a ritual practice, the original meaning of which had become
obscured”; also Robertson Smith’s Religion of the Semites, pp. 20 ff., where the
rule is laid down that ‘‘in the study of ancient religions we must begin, not with
Myth but with ritual and traditional usage”; cf. p. 16—‘‘ The antique religions
had for the most part no creed; they consisted entirely of institutions and
practices.”
2 The Heart of Japan, by OC. L. Brownell (1902), p. 197.
INTRODUCTION 16
myths, in proportion as the belief given is, for these reasons,
stronger. If make-believe is enough for other myths, Eschato-
logical Myths demand genuine belief, and easily get it from
primitive man, It is in no spirit of make-believe that he
performs the rites for the departed, which he knows will be
performed one day for himself, when he shall have gone to the
other world of which the stories tell,
It is not always easy to assign a story to its class. The
cause of something that attracts notice may be found in some-
thing done by somebody in the course of adventures which
have already been recounted as being in themselves interest-
ing. <A story which started as “Simply Anthropological,”
being told from pure love of ἀνθρωπολογία, may be annexed
by the scientific imagination and become Aetiological. And,
again, a story which started as Aetiological may easily forget
its original scientific inspiration and become a piece of simple
avOpwroroyia. Lastly, the interest of Eschatology—of talk
about man’s latter end— is so peculiar and engrossing that it
tends to compel into its service Simply Anthropological and
Aetiological Stories already in existence. The Phaedrus Myth
may be mentioned as showing this tendency at work.
We have seen that in form every story of the dream-
world, to whichever of the three classes it belongs, is anthropo-
logical and zoological; that it is about the adventures and
doings of people and animals—men and men-like beasts and
gods; and that it is intrinsically interesting as a story, and
receives belief, or, at any rate, make-believe. We must now
add that it has no moral—i.e. the teller and his hearers do not
think of anything but the story itself. This is the criterion
of Myth as distinguished from Allegory or Parable: Myth
has no moral or other meaning in the minds of those who
make it, and of those for whom it is made. It is a later age
which reads other meaning into it, when the improbability
and indecency of stories told by savage men provoke the
rationalising work of those who are unwilling to give up the
stories entirely, but cannot receive them as they stand. The
stories which seem to need this work most, and on which it is ~
most effectually done, are apt to perish under the treatment
which they receive. Becoming transparent allegories or ful-
filled prophecies, they cease to be interesting, and are soon
16 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
forgotten. But there stand out among the myths of the world
some which rationalism has not been able to destroy or even
impair. These, we may be sure, were the creations, not of
ordinary story-tellers, but of “divine poets” and “inspired
prophets ”—of genius, using, indeed, material supplied by
ordinary story-tellers, but transforming it in the use.’ Such
myths—chiefly Eschatological Myths, created and originally
received in the spirit of genuine belief, not of make-believe—
yield precious fruit to interpretation, But the interpretation
of a masterpiece of imagination, to be fruitful, must be
“ psychological.” The revival, in any shape, must be eschewed
of that now formally discredited method which treated a
masterpiece of creative imagination as an allegory by which
the accepted dogma of the day might be supported, or as a
prediction to be fulfilled, if not already fulfilled, in some
particular event of history. Fruitful interpretation of a
masterpiece of creative imagination will consist in showing
the mind of its maker, and in so placing his creation before
our own minds by means of some accompaniment or rendering
—some parallel corroborative appeal to imagination and feeling
—that it does for us in our age what it did for him in his
age, making us pause in the midst of our workaday life, as
he paused in the midst of his, filled
With admiration and deep muse, to hear
Of things so high and strange.
The allegorical interpretation of old myths (which were
made, it is hardly necessary to say, without thought of the
doctrine got out of them by the interpretation) doubtless sug-
gested the deliberate making of allegorical tales and parables.
When their makers are men of genius, these tales are often
myths as well as allegories and parables. Such are Plato's
Cave and Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, which I shall consider
later with reference to this point.’
Aesop’s Fables, again, though retaining much of the
1“ We must not be astonished if we come across myths which surprise us by
their ingenious direction, or even by their profound philosophy. This is often
the character of spontaneous products of the human mind. . . . The human
mind, when it works thus spontaneously, is a philosopher just as the bee is a
mathematician.” —Reville, Prolégoménes de l’ Histoire des Religions, Eng. Transl.
by Squire, p. 112.
2 See infra, “ Excursus on Allegory,” pp. 230 ff.
INTRODUCTION 17
“anthropological and zoological” interest which belongs to
the African Beast-tale on which they were modelled, were
doubtless, for the most part, deliberately composed for the
sake of their morals or applications.
As the Beast-tale is rewritten “ with a purpose ” in Aesop's
Fables, so in the moral zoology of Physiologus even “The
Natural History of Animals” is rewritten and turned into
allegory.’ The following, about the Lion, based on Physiologus,
occurs in a British Museum Bestiary (Codd. Reg. 2 C. xii.)
quoted by Mann in his instructive work, der Bestiaire Divin
des Guillawme le Clere (p. 37) :—
“ De natura leonis, bestiarum seu animalium regis. Etenim
Jacob benedicens filium suum Judam ait (Gen. 49. 9):
‘Catulus leonis Judas filius meus, quis suscitabit eum?’
Fisiologus dicit tres naturales habere leonem.
“Prima: ambulat in montibus, et si contigerit, ut queratur
a venatoribus, venit odor venatoris et de cauda sua post tergum
cooperit vestigia sua quocumque ierit, ut secutus venator per
vestigia eius non inveniat cubile ejus, et capiat eum. Sic et
Salvator Noster ‘spiritualis leo de tribu Juda, radix Jesse,
filius David’ (Apoc. 5. 5), missus a superno patre, cooperuit
intelligentibus vestigia deitatis sue. Et hoc est: factus est
cum angelis angelus, cum archangelis archangelus, cum
thronis thronus, cum potestatibus potestas, donee descendit in
uterum virginis, ut salvaret hoc quod erraverat humanum
genus. Ex hoe ignorantes eum ascendentem ad patrem hi
qui sursum erant angeli, dicebant ad eos qui cum Domino
ascendebant (Ps. 24. 8 ἢ): ‘Quis est iste rex glorie?’
Responderunt illi: ‘Dominus virtutum ipse est rex glorie.’
1 Physiologus, ὁ φυσιολόγος, is a work, in its original Greek form, compiled at
Alexandria towards the end of the second century, consisting of chapters, in
each of which an animal, real or fabulous, (or a precious stone) is first described
in the manner of natural history (or rather, as if in that manner), and then pre-
sented as a type of Christian doctrine and life. After being translated into
Latin, Physiologus spread over the whole West, and versions of it were made
everywhere in the vulgar tongues—in Anglo-Saxon, Old English, Old High
German, Flemish, Icelandic, Provencal, Old French, and Italian. In the East,
too, it appeared in Syrian, Armenian, Arabic, Ethiopic, and Slavonic versions.
After the Bible it was probably the most popular book throughout the Middle
Age. Examples of it—the so-called Bestiaries—are to be found in all the
libraries of Europe. See der Bestiaire Divin des Guillaume le Clere (Franzisische
Studien, 1888), by Max Friedr. Mann, pp. 17 ff.; Pitra, Spicilegiwm Solesmense,
1855, t. ili. pp. xlvii. ff; Carus, Gesch. d. Zoologie, pp. 108 ff.; and article,
Physiologus, by Prof. J. P. N. Land, in Eneyci. Brit.
σ
18 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
“(Secunda natura.) Cum dormierit, oculi eius vigilant,
aperti enim sunt, sicut in Canticis Canticorum testatur spon-
sus dicens (5. 2): ‘Ego dormio et cor meum vigilat.’
Etenim corporaliter Dominus meus obdormiens in eruce et
sepultus, deitas eius vigilabat. ‘Ecce non dormiet qui
eustodit Israel’ (Ps. 121. 4).
“(Tercia natura.) Cum leena parit catulum, generat eum
mortuum et custodit eum mortuum tribus diebus, donec
veniens pater eius die tercio insufflet in faciem ejus et vivi-
ficet eum. Sic omnipotens pater Dominum Nostrum Jesum
Christum filium suum tercia die suscitavit a mortuis, dicente
Jacob (4 Mos. 24. 9): ‘Dormitabit tanquam leo, et sicut
catulus leonis. Quis suscitabit eum ?’”
In Physiologus “The Natural History of Animals” has
a double character: it is not only a narrative of “ facts,” but,
at the same time, a divinely appointed, as it were dramatic,
representation of doctrine for the benefit of man.
Similarly, “Old Testament History ” is regarded by Philo
and his school as at once a chronicle of actual events, and a
great allegorical representation of doctrine in which events
are figures or symbols of philosophic truths—and that, in the
intention of God, not merely in the mind of the interpreter.
I shall have occasion to return to this strange school of
allegory ; meanwhile the purpose of this introductory refer-
ence to the subject will be sufficiently served if I quote in
passing, without comment, a classical passage in which one
of the great masters of Myth distinguishes between the literal
and the allegorical or mystical truth of events recorded in
history.
In the letter to Kan Grande,’ which is really a preface to
the Commedia, Dante writes as follows, §§ 7, 8:—
“Ad evidentiam itaque dicendorum, sciendum est quod
istius operis [the Commedia] non est simplex sensus, immo
dici potest polysemum, hoe est plurium sensuum; nam alius
sensus est qui habetur per literam, alius est qui habetur per
significata per literam. Et primus dicitur literalis, secundus
vero allegoricus, sive mysticus. Qui modus tractandi, ut
1 Dean Church (Dante and other Essays, p. 108, ed. 1897) refers to this letter
as one ‘‘which, if in its present form of doubtful authenticity, without any
question represents Dante's sentiments, and the substance of which is incor-
porated in one of the earliest writings on the poem, Boccaccio’s commentary.”
INTRODUCTION 19
melius pateat, potest considerari in his versibus: ‘In exitu
Israel de Aegypto, domus Jacob de populo barbaro, facta est
Judaea sanctificatio eius, Israel potestas eius.’ Nam si /iteram
solam inspiciamus, significatur nobis exitus filiorum Israel de
Aegypto, tempore Moysis; si allegoriam, nobis significatur
nostra redemptio facta per Christum; si moralem sensum,
significatur nobis conversio animae de luctu et miseria peccati
ad statum gratiae; si anagogicum, significatur exitus animae
sanctae ab huius corruptionis servitute ad aeternae Gloriae
libertatem. Et quamquam isti sensus mystici variis appel-
lentur nominibus, generaliter omnes dici possunt allegorici,
quum sint a literali sive historiali diversi. . .. His visis,
manifestum est quod duplex oportet esse swhjectwm, circa quod
currant alterni sensus. Et ideo videndum est de subjecto
huius operis, prout ad literam accipitur; deinde de subjecto,
prout allegorice sententiatur. Est ergo subjectum totius
operis, literaliter tantum accepti, ‘status animarum post
mortem simpliciter sumptus. Nam de illo et circa illum
totius operis versatur processus. ‘Si vero accipiatur opus
allegorice, subjectum est ‘homo, prout merendo et demerendo
per arbitrii’ libertatem Justitiae praemianti aut punienti
obnoxius est.”
In the Convivio (11. 1 and 13) the four “senses” are dis
tinguished exactly as in the Letter. Of the moral and
anagogic senses he says (11. 1, p. 252, 1. 42, Oxf. ed.): “The
third sense is called moral; it is that which readers ought
attentively to note, as they go through writings, for their
own profit and that of their disciples; as it may be noted in
the Gospel, when Christ went up into the Mount to be
1 Gebhart (L’/talie Mystique, pp. 318 ff.), referring to this Letter, remarks
that the literal interpretation of the Divina Commedia represents the traditional
belief of the medieval church, the other interpretations represent Dante’s own
personal religion. M. Gebhart’s analysis of Dante’s ‘‘ personal religion ᾿ is very
instructive : ‘‘ Le dernier mot de sa croyance, cette ‘religion du ceeur’ quila
nommeée dans le Convito, est au vingt-quatrieme chant du Paradis, et c’est a
Saint-Pierre lui-méme qu’il en fait la confession. 1] est revenu au symbole trés
simple de Saint-Paul, la foi, l’espérance et l’amour; pour lui comme pour
l’apdtre, la foi elle-méme n’est, au fond, que l’espérance, fides sperandarwm
substantia rerum. . .. Pour lui, le péché supréme, celui qu'il punit d’un
mépris écrasant, ce n’est ni Vhérésie, ni l’incrédulité, qu’il a montrées, par le
dédain méme et la figure altiére des damnés, supérieures ἃ l’enfer ; c’est la υἱζέὰ,
le renoncement timide au devoir actif, au dévouement, a la vie, la lacheté du
pape Célestin,
Che fece per viltate il gran rifiuto.”
20 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
transfigured, that of the twelve apostles he took with him the
three; wherein morally we may understand, that in matters
of the greatest secrecy we ought to have few companions.
“The fourth sense is called anagogic, that is, above sense ;
and this is when a writing is expounded spiritually which,
even in its literal sense, by the matters signified, sets forth
the high things of glory everlasting: as may be seen in that
Song of the Prophet which says that in the coming out of the
people of Israel from Egypt, Judah was made holy and free.
Which, although it is plainly true according to the letter, is
not less true as understood spiritually: that is, the Soul, in
coming out from sin, is made holy and free.”
The rest of the chapter (Conv. ii. 1) dwells on the point,
which Dante evidently considers of great importance, that the
literal sense must always be understood before we go on to
seek out the other senses. The reversal of this order is, indeed,
iempossible, for the other senses are contained in the literal
sense, which is their envelope; and besides, the literal sense
is “ better known to us,” as the Philosopher says in the First
Book of the Physics; and not to begin with it would be
irrational—contrary to the natural order,
3. PLATO’s MYTHS DISTINGUISHED FROM ALLEGORIES. To
WHA’ EXPERIENCE, OR “ PART OF THE SOUL,” DOES THE
PLATONIC MYTH APPEAL ?
Plato, we know from the Republic’ and Phaedrus?
deprecated the allegorical interpretation of Myths, and his own
Myths, we assume, are not to be taken as allegories; but
rather as representing, in the action of the Platonic Drama,
natural products of that dream-world consciousness which
encompasses the field of ordinary wide-awake consciousness in
educated minds as well as in the minds of children and
primitive men.
In appealing to the dream-world consciousness of his
readers by a brilliant literary representation of its natural
products—those stories which primitive men cannot leave un-
1 Rep. 378 pv.
2 Phaedrus, 229 5»-Ὲ, and see infra, pp. 231 ff.
INTRODUCTION 2]
told, and philosophers love to hear well told '—Plato appeals
to an experience which is more solid than one might infer
from the mere content of the μυθολογία in which it finds expres-
sion. He appeals to that major part of man’s nature which is
not articulate and logical, but feels, and wills, and acts—to that
part which cannot explain what a thing is, or how it happens,
but feels that the thing is good or bad, and expresses itself,
not scientifically in “existential” or “theoretic judgments,”
but practically in“ value-judgments”—or rather“ value-feelings.”
Man was, with the brute, practical, and had struck the roots
of his being deep into the world of reality, ages before he
began to be scientific, and to think about the “ values” which
he felt. And long before he began to think about the “values”
which he felt, feeling had taken into its service his imagination
with its whole apparatus of phantasms—waking dreams and
sleep-dreams—and made them its exponents. In appealing,
through the recital of dreams, to that major part of us which
feels “ values,” which wills and acts, Plato indeed goes down
to the bedrock of human nature. At that depth man is more
at one with Universal Nature—more in her secret, as it were
—than he is at the level of his “higher” faculties, where he
lives in a conceptual world of his own making which he is
always endeavouring to “think.” And after all, however high
he may rise as “thinker,” it is only of “values” that he
genuinely thinks; and the ground of all “ values ”"—the Value
of Life itself—was apprehended before the dawn of thinking,
and is still apprehended independently of thinking. It is
good, Plato will have us believe, to appeal sometimes from the
world of the senses and scientific understanding, which is “ too
much with us,” to this deep-lying part of human nature, as to
an oracle. The responses of the oracle are not given in
articulate language which the scientific understanding can
interpret; they come as dreams, and must be received as
dreams, without thought of doctrinal interpretation. Their
ultimate meaning is the “feeling” which fills us in beholding
them ; and when we wake from them, we see our daily concerns
and all things temporal with purged eyes.
This effect which Plato produces by the Myth in the
Dialogue is, it is hardly necessary to say, produced, in various
16 φιλόμυθος φιλόσοφός πώς éorw.—Arist. Met, A 2, 982 Ὁ 18.
22 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
degrees, by Nature herself, without the aid of literary or other
art. The sense of “might, majesty and dominion” which
comes over us as we look into the depths of the starry sky,’
the sense of our own short time passing, passing, with which
we see the lilacs bloom again—these, and many like them, are
natural experiences which closely resemble the effect produced
in the reader’s mind by Plato’s art. When these natural
moods are experienced, we feel “That which was, and is, and
ever shall be” overshadowing us; and familiar things—the
stars, and the lilac bloom—become suddenly strange and
wonderful, for our eyes are opened to see that they declare its
presence. It is such moods of feeling in his cultivated reader
that Plato induces, satisfies, and regulates, by Myths which set
forth God, Soul, and Cosmos, in vision.
The essential charm of these Myths is that of Poetry
generally, whether the theme of a poem be expressly eschato-
logical and religious, like that of the Divina Commedia, or of
some other kind, for example, like that of the Fairy Queene,
or like that of a love song. The essential charm of all
Poetry, for the sake of which in the last resort it exists, lies
in its power of inducing, satisfying, and regulating what may
be called Transcendental Feeling, especially that form of
Transcendental Feeling which manifests itself as solemn sense
of Timeless Being—of “That which was, and is, and ever shall
be,” overshadowing us with its presence. Where this power
is absent from a piece—be it an epic, or a lyric, or a play, or
a poem of observation and reflection—there is no Poetry; only,
at best, readable verse,—an exhibition of wit and worldly
wisdom, of interesting “anthropology,” of pleasing sound,—all
either helpful or necessary, in their several places, for the
production of the miliew in which poetic effect is felt, but
none of them forming part of that effect itself. Sometimes
the power of calling up Transcendental Feeling seems to be
exercised at no point or points which can be definitely indicated
in the course of a poem; this is notably the case where the
form of the poem is dramatic, 7.e. where all turns on our
grasping “one complete action.” Sometimes “a lonely word”
1 Coleridge says (Anima Poetae, from unpublished note-books of 8. T. Coleridge,
edited by E. H. Coleridge, 1895 ; p. 125), ‘‘ Deep sky is, of all visual impressions,
the nearest akin toa feeling. It is more a feeling than a sight, or rather, it is
the melting away and entire union of feeling and sight!”
INTRODUCTION 23
makes the great difference. At any rate, elaborate dream-
consciousness apparatus, such as we find employed in the
Platonic Myths, in the Divina Commedia, and in poems like
Endymion and Hyperion, is not essential to the full exercise
of the power of Poetry. Some common scene is simply
pictured for the mind’s eye; some place haunted by memories
and emotions is pictured for the heart; a face declaring some
mood is framed in circumstances which match it and its mood ;
some fantasia of sound or colour fills eye or ear; some sudden
stroke of personification amazes us; there is perhaps nothing
more than the turn of a phrase or the use of a word or the
falling of a cadence—and straightway all is done that the
most elaborate and sustained employment of mythological
apparatus could do—we are away in the dream-world; and
when we presently return, we are haunted by the feeling that
we have “seen the mysteries ”"—by that Transcendental Feeling
which Dante finds language to express in the twenty-fifth
sonnet of the Vita Nuova, and in the last canto of the
Paradiso :—
O abbondante grazia, ond’ io presunsi
Ficcar lo viso per la luce eterna
Tanto, che la veduta vi consunsi !
Nel suo profondo vidi che s’ interna,
Legato con amore in un volume,
Cid che per l’ universo si squaderna ;
Sustanzia ed accidenti e lor costume,
Quasi conflati insieme per tal modo,
Che cid ch’ io dico ὃ un semplice lume.
La forma universal di questo nodo
Credo ch’ io vidi, perché pit di largo,
Dicendo questo, mi sento ch’ io godo.
Un punto solo m’ ὃ maggior letargo,
Che venticinque secoli alla impresa,
Che fe’ Nettuno ammirar l’ ombra αὐ Argo.?
Let me give some examples from the Poets of their
employment of the means which I have just now mentioned.
A common scene ts simply pietured for the mind's eye :—
Sole listener, Duddon ! to the breeze that played
With thy clear voice, I caught the fitful sound
1 See infra, p. 38, where this sonnet is quoted.
2 Paradiso, xxxiii. 82-9.
24 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Wafted o’er sullen moss and craggy mound—
Unfruitful solitudes, that seem’d to upbraid
The sun in heaven !—but now, to form a shade
For thee, green alders have together wound
Their foliage ; ashes flung their arms around ;
And birch-trees risen in silver colonnade.
And thou hast also tempted here to rise,
Mid sheltering pines, this cottage rude and grey ;
Whose ruddy children, by the mother’s eyes
Carelessly watched, sport through the summer day,
Thy pleased associates :—light as endless May
On infant bosoms lonely Nature lies,
Sometimes, again, the scene is pictured for the heart rather
than for the eye-—we look upon a place haunted, for the Poet,
and after him for ourselves, by memories and emotions :—
Row us out from Desenzano, to your Sirmione row!
So they τον ἃ, and!there we landed—* O venusta Sirmio !”
There to me thro’ all the groves of olive in the summer glow,
There beneath the Roman ruin where the purple flowers grow,
Came that “ Ave atque Vale” of the Poet’s hopeless woe,
Tenderest of Roman poets nineteen hundred years ago,
“Frater Ave atque Vale ”—as we wander’d to and fro
Gazing at the Lydian laughter of the Garda Lake below
Sweet Catullus’s all-but-island, olive-silvery Sirmio !
Again, it is a face that we see declaring some mood, and
framed in circumstances which match it and its mood :—
At eve a dry cicala sung,
There came a sound as of the sea;
Backward the lattice-blind she flung,
And lean’d upon the balcony.
There all in spaces rosy-bright
Large Hesper glitter’d on her tears,
And deepening thro’ the silent spheres
Heaven over Heaven rose the night.
Again, some fantasia of sound or light fills ear or eye-—
of sownd, like this :—
Sometimes a-dropping from the sky
I heard the skylark sing ;
Sometimes all little birds that are,
How they seemed to fill the sea and air
With their sweet jargoning !
INTRODUCTION
to
οι
And now ’twas like all instruments,
Now like a lonely flute ;
And now it is an angel’s song,
That makes the heavens be mute.
Or like this :—
The silver sounding instruments did meet
With the base murmur of the Water's fall :
The Water’s fall with difference discrete,
Now soft, now loud, unto the Wind did call :
The gentle warbling Wind low answeréd to all.
Of sownd and light together, like this :—
A sunny shaft did I behold,
From sky to earth it slanted :
And poised therein a bird so bold—
Sweet bird, thou wert enchanted !
He sank, he rose, he twinkled, he trolled
Within that shaft of sunny mist ;
His eyes of fire, his beak of gold,
All else of amethyst !
And thus he sang: “ Adieu! adieu !
Love’s dreams prove seldom true.
The blossoms, they make no delay :
The sparkling dewdrops will not stay.
Sweet month of May,
We must away ;
Far, far away !
To-day ! to-day !”
Again, ἐξ is some stroke of personification that fills us with
amazement—where we thought that Nature was most solitary,
see ! some one is present !
The nightingale, up-perched high,
And cloister’d among cool and bunched leaves—
She sings but to her love, nor e’er conceives
How tiptoe Night holds back her dark-grey hood.
Or, it may be, the presence is that of Great Nature herself—
and she feels what we feel, and knows what we know :—
O fair is Love’s first hope to gentle mind!
As Eve’s first star thro’ fleecy cloudlet peeping ;
And sweeter than the gentle south-west wind,
O’er willowy meads and shadowed waters creeping,
And Ceres’ golden fields ;—the sultry hind
Meets it with brow uplift, and stays his reaping.
26 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Lastly, i¢ is perhaps but the turn of a phrase or the fall of
a cadence that touches the heart :—
I heard a linnet courting
His lady in the spring ;
His mates were idly sporting,
Nor stayed to hear him sing
His song of love :—
I fear my speech distorting
His tender love.
So much by way of illustrating poetic effect produced, as
only the inspired poet knows how to produce it, by very
simple means. I venture to ask the student of Plato to
believe with me that the effect produced, in the passages just
quoted, by these simple means, does not differ in kind from
that produced by the use of elaborate apparatus in the Myths
with which this work is concerned. The effect is always the
induction of the dream-consciousness, with its atmosphere of
solemn feeling spreading out into the waking consciousness
which follows.
It will be well, however, not to confine ourselves to the
examples given, but to quote some other examples from
Poetry, in which this effect is produced in a way more closely
parallel to that in which it is produced in the Platonic Myths.
I will therefore ask the reader to submit himself to an experi-
ment: first, to take the three following passages —all
relating to Death—and carefully reading and re-reading them,
allow the effect of them to grow upon him; and then, turning
to Plato’s Eschatological Myths in the Phaedo, Gorgias, and
Republic, and reading them in the same way, to ask himself
whether or no he has had a foretaste of their effect in the
effect produced by these other pieces. I venture to think
that the more we habituate ourselves to the influence of the
Poets the better are we likely to receive the message of the
Prophets.
Deh peregrini,' che pensosi andate
Forse di cosa che non ν᾽ ὃ presente,
Venite voi di si lontana gente,
Come alla vista voi ne dimostrate ?
Che non piangete, quando voi passate
1 La Vita Nuova, § 41, Sonetto 24.
INTRODUCTION 27
Per lo suo mezzo la citth dolente,
Come quelle persone, che neente
Par che intendesser la sua gravitate.
Se voi restate, per volerla udire,
‘erto lo core ne’ sospir mi dice,
Che lagrimando n’ uscirete pui.
Ella ha perduta la sua Beatrice ;
E le parole, ch’ uom di lei pud dire,
Hanno virtt di far piangere altrui.
To that high Capital,’ where Kingly Death
Keeps his pale court in beauty and decay,
He came: and bought, with price of purest breath,
A grave among the eternal—Come away !
Haste, while the vault of blue Italian day
Is yet his fitting charnel-roof! while still
He lies, as if in dewy sleep he lay ;
Awake him not! surely he takes his fill
Of deep and liquid rest, forgetful of all ill.
He will awake no more—oh, never more !
Within the twilight chamber spreads apace
The shadow of white Death, and at the door
Invisible Corruption waits to trace
His extreme way to her dim dwelling-place ;
The eternal Hunger sits, but pity and awe
Soothe her pale rage, nor dares she to deface
So fair a prey, till darkness and the law
Of change shall o’er his sleep the mortal curtain draw.
Oh, weep for Adonais !—The quick Dreams,
The passion-wingtd Ministers of thought,
Who were his flocks, whom near the living streams
Of his young spirit he fed, and whom he taught
The love which was its music, wander not,—
Wander no more from kindling brain to brain,
But droop there, whence they sprung; and mourn their lot
Round the cold heart, where, after their sweet pain,
They ne’er will gather strength, nor find a home again.
And one with trembling hand clasps his cold head,
And fans him with her moonlight wings, and cries:
“Our love, our hope, our sorrow, is not dead ;
See, on the silken fringe of his faint eyes,
Like dew upon a sleeping flower, there lies
A tear some Dream has loosened from his brain.”
1 Shelley, Adonais.
28
THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Lost Angel of a ruined Paradise !
She knew not ’twas her own; as with no stain
She faded, like a cloud which had outwept its rain.
One from a lucid urn of starry dew
Washed his light limbs, as if embalming them ;
Another clipt her profuse locks, and threw
The wreath upon him, like an anadem,
Which frozen tears instead of pearls begem ;
Another in her wilful grief would break
Her bow and winged reeds, as if to stem
A greater loss with one which was more weak ;
And dull the barbéd fire against his frozen cheek.
Another Splendour on his mouth alit,
That mouth whence it was wont to draw the breath
Which gave it strength to pierce the guarded wit,
And pass into the panting heart beneath
With lightning and with music: the damp death
Quenched its caress upon his icy lips ;
And, as a dying meteor stains a wreath
Of moonlight vapour, which the cold night clips,
It flushed through his pale limbs, and passed to its eclipse.
And others came,—Desires and Adorations,
Winged Persuasions, and veiled Destinies,
Splendours, and Glooms, and glimmering Incarnations
Of hopes and fears, and twilight Phantasies ;
And Sorrow, with her family of Sighs,
And Pleasure, blind with tears, led by the gleam
Of her own dying smile instead of eyes,
Came in slow pomp ;—the moving pomp might seem
Like pageantry of mist on an autumnal stream.
And
All he had loved and moulded into thought
From shape, and hue, and odour, and sweet sound,
Lamented Adonais. Morning sought
Her eastern watch-tower, and her hair unbound,
Wet with the tears which should adorn the ground,
Dimmed the aerial eyes that kindle day ;
Afar the melancholy thunder moaned,
Pale Ocean in unquiet slumber lay,
the wild winds flew around, sobbing in their dismay.
Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains,
And feeds her grief with his remembered lay,
And will no more reply to winds or fountains,
Or amorous birds perched on the young green spray,
Or herdsman’s horn, or bell at closing day ;
Since she can mimic not his lips, more dear
INTRODUCTION 29
Than those for whose disdain she pined away
Into a shadow of all sounds ;}—a drear
Murmur, between their songs, is all the woodmen hear.
» » . o ν» ᾿
» » » - ". -"
Alas! that all we loved of him should be,
But for our grief, as if it had not been,
And grief itself be mortal! Woe is me!
Whence are we, and why are we? of what scene
The actors or spectators ? Great and mean
Meet massed in death, who lends what life must borrow.
As long as skies are blue, and fields are green,
Evening must usher night, night urge the morrow,
Month follow month with woe, and year wake year to sorrow.
* a Ἀ w * ΄
ΕΝ * * * ” *
Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep—
He hath awakened from the dream of life—
"Tis we, who, lost in stormy visions, keep
With phantoms an unprofitable strife,
And in mad trance strike with our spirit’s knife
Invulnerable nothings—/Ve decay
Like corpses in a charnel; fear and grief
Convulse us and consume us day by day,
And cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.
He has outsoared the shadow of our night ;
Envy and calumny, and hate and pain,
And that unrest which men miscall delight,
Can touch him not and torture not again ;
From the contagion of the world’s slow stain
He is secure, and now can never mourn
A heart grown cold, a head grown grey in vain ;
Nor, when the spirit’s self has ceased to burn,
With sparkless ashes load an unlamented urn.
* * * ΩΣ * *
* * * * * *
He is made one with Nature: there is heard
His voice in all her music, from the moan
Of thunder to the song of night’s sweet bird ;
He is a presence to be felt and known
In darkness and in light, from herb and stone,
Spreading itself where’er that Power may move
Which has withdrawn his being to its own ;
Which wields the world with never-wearied love,
Sustains it from beneath, and kindles it above.
80 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
He is a portion of the loveliness
Which once he made more lovely: he doth bear
His part, while the one Spirit’s plastic stress
Sweeps through the dull dense world, compelling there
All new successions to the forms they wear ;
Torturing the unwilling dross that checks its flight
To its own likeness, as each mass may bear ;
And bursting in its beauty and its might
From trees and beasts and men into the Heaven’s light.
The splendours of the firmament of time
May be eclipsed, but are extinguished not ;
Like stars to their appointed height they climb,
And death is a low mist which cannot blot
The brightness it may veil. When lofty thought
Lifts a young heart above its mortal lair,
And love and life contend in it, for what
Shall be its earthly doom, the dead live there,
And move like winds of light on dark and stormy air.
The inheritors of unfulfilled renown
Rose from their thrones, built beyond mortal thought,
Far in the Unapparent. Chatterton
Rose pale, his solemn agony had not
Yet faded from him; Sidney, as he fought,
And as he fell, and as he lived and loved,
Sublimely mild, a Spirit without spot,
Arose ; and Lucan, by his death approved :
Oblivion, as they rose, shrank like a thing reproved.
And many more, whose names on Earth are dark,
But whose transmitted effluence cannot die
So long as fire outlives the parent spark,
Rose, robed in dazzling immortality.
“Thou art become as one of us,” they cry ;
“It was for thee yon kingless sphere has long
Swung blind in unascended majesty,
Silent alone amid a Heaven of Song.
Assume thy wingéd throne, thou Vesper of our throng
1»
.
When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom’d,!
And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night,
I mourn’d, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
Ever-returning spring, trinity sure to me you bring,
Lilac blooming perennial, and drooping star in the west,
And thought of him I love.
> * ~ - τε * *
1 Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass (Memories of President Lincoln).
INTRODUCTION 31
From this bush in the dooryard,
With delicate-colour'd blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig with its flower I break,
In the swamp in secluded recesses,
A shy and hidden bird is warbling a song—
‘+ ” ” ’ . . >
” ” ” . af 7
Song of the bleeding throat,
Death’s outlet song of life,
Over the breast of the spring, the land, amid cities,
Amid lanes and through old woods, where lately the violets peep’d from
the ground, spotting the grey débris,
Amid the grass in the fields each side of the lanes, passing the endless
grass,
Passing the yellow-spear’d wheat, every grain from its shroud in the
dark-brown fields uprisen,
Passing the apple-tree blows of white and pink in the orchards,
Carrying a corpse to where it shall rest in the grave,
Night and day journeys a coffin.
Coffin that passes through lanes and streets,
Through day and night with the great cloud darkening the land,
With the pomp of the inloop’d flags, with the cities drap’d in black,
With the show of the States themselves as of crape-veil’d women
standing,
Χ * ἧς * * * >
o * * * * *
With the countless torches lit, with the silent sea of faces and the
bared heads,
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
With the tolling tolling bells’ perpetual clang,
Here, coffin that slowly passes,
I give you my sprig of lilac.
Sing on there in the swamp,
O singer bashful and tender, I hear your notes, I hear your call,
I hear, I come presently, I understand you,
But a moment I linger, for the lustrous star has detain’d me,
The star, my departing comrade, holds and detains me.
O how shall I warble myself for the dead one there I Ἰον 3
And how shall I deck my song for the large sweet soul that has gone ?
And what shall my perfume be for the grave of him I love?
32 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Sea-winds blown from East and West,
Blown from the Eastern sea and blown from the Western sea, .. .
on the prairies meeting . . .—
With these and the breath of my chant,
I'll perfume the grave of him I love.
Sing on, sing on, you grey-brown bird,
Sing from the swamps, the recesses, pour your chant from the bushes,
Limitless out of the dusk, out of the cedars and pines.
Sing on, dearest brother, warble your reedy song,
Loud human song, with voice of uttermost woe.
O liquid and free and tender!
O wild and loose to my soul—O wondrous singer !
You only I hear—yet the star holds me (but will soon depart),
Yet the lilac with the mastering odour holds me.
* * * * * * *
* *
With the knowledge of death as walking one side of me,
And the thought of death close-walking the other side of me,
And I in the middle as with companions, and as holding the hands of
companions,
I fled forth to the hiding receiving night that talks not,
Down to the shores of the water, the path by the swamp in the dimness,
To the solemn shadowy cedars and ghostly pines so still.
And the singer so shy to the rest received me,
The grey-brown bird I know receiv’d us comrades three,
And he sang the carol of death, and a verse for him I love.
And the charm of the carol rapt me,
As I held as if by their hands my comrades in the night,
And the voice of my spirit tallied the song of the bird.
Come, lovely and soothing death,
Undulate rownd the world, serenely arriving, arriving,
In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later delicate death.
Dark mother always gliding near with soft feet,
Have none chanted for thee a chant of fullest welcome ?
Then I chant it for thee, I glorify thee above all,
I bring thee a song that when thow must indeed come, come wnfalteringly.
From me to thee glad serenades,
Dances for thee I propose saluting thee, adornments and feastings for thee,
And the sights of the open landscape and the high-spread sky are fitting,
And life and the fields, and the huge and thoughtful night—
INTRODUCTION 35
The night in silence under many a star,
The ocean shore and the husky whispering wave whose voice I know,
And the soul turning to thee, O vast and well-veil’d death,
And the body gratefully nestling close to thee.
Over the tree-tops I float thee a song,
Over the rising and sinking waves, over the myriad fields and the prairies
wide,
Over the dense-pack'd cities all and the teeming wharves and ways,
1 float this carol with joy, with joy to thee, O death.
The conclusion which follows, as it seems to me, from
examination of what one experiences in perusing great Poetry
—of which the three widely dissimilar pieces which I have
quoted at length are eminent examples—is that the essential
charm of Poetry—that for the sake of which, in the last
resort, it exists—lies in its power of inducing, in certain care-
fully chosen circumstances, that mode of Transcendental
Feeling which is experienced as solemn sense of the over-
shadowing presence of “ That which was, and is, and ever shall
be.” The Poet, always by means of Representations—images,
μιμήματα----᾿τοἀποῖβ of the dream-consciousness in himself,
and often with the aid of Rhythm and Melody which call up
certain shadowy Feelings, strange, in their shadowy form, to
ordinary consciousness, induces in his patient the dream-con-
sciousness in which such Representations and Feelings are at
home. But the dream-consciousness induced in the patient
by the imagery and melody of the Poet lasts only for a
moment. The effect of even the most sustained Poetry is a
succession of occasional lapses into the state of dream-con-
sciousness, each one of which occurs suddenly and lasts but
for a moment, in the midst of an otherwise continuous
waking consciousness which is concerned, in a matter-of-fact
way, with “what the poem is about,’ and “how the poet
manages his theme,’ and a hundred other things. It is at
the moment of waking from one of these lapses into the
dream-world that the solemn sense of the immediate presence
of “That which was, and is, and ever shall be” is experienced
—at the moment when one sees, in the world of wide-awake
consciousness, the image, or hears the melody, which one saw
or heard only a moment ago—or, was it not ages ago ?—in
the dream-world :—
D
34 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Un punto solo m’ ὃ maggior letargo,
Che venticinque secoli alla impresa,
Che fe’ Nettuno ammirar l’ ombra d’ Argo.
It is thus, as these sudden lapses, each followed immediately —
by waking and amazement, succeed one another, it may be, at
long intervals, in a poem, that the power of its Poetry grows
upon us. It is essential to our experiencing the power of
Poetry that there should be intervals, and intervals of con-
siderable length, between the lapses. The sense of having
seen or heard things belonging to a world in which “ Time is
not” needs for its immediate realisation the presence, in the
world of waking consciousness, of things which shall “ remind ”
us of the things of that other world in which “ Time is not ”
—without such things to “remind” us, there would be no
“recollection” of our visit to the world in which “Time is
not.” The poet’s image, therefore, which began by throwing
us into the dream-state, must persist in the state of waking
consciousness to which we are now returned, and there, as we
look at it in the light of common day, amaze us by its “ resem-
blance” to an archetype seen in the world in which “ Time
is not.” And its persistence in the world of waking con-
sciousness can be guaranteed only by a more or less wide
context addressed to our ordinary faculties—to the senses and
understanding—and to our ordinary sentiments. Over this
matter-of-fact context, however, the amazement produced in
us when we perceive that the image, or other product of the
Poet’s dream-consciousness, which just now set us, too,
a-dreaming, is double—is something both in the world without
Time, and in this temporal world—casts a glamour for a
while. Then the glamour fades away, and we find ourselves
accompanying the Poet through the every-day world; and it
may be in accordance with the secret scheme which he is
carrying out that we are kept in this every-day world for
a long while, in order that we may be taken the more by
surprise when suddenly, as we journey, the light from heaven
shines round about us. “ Whatever specific import,’ says
Coleridge,’ “ we attach to the word poetry, there will be found
involved in it, as a necessary consequence, that a poem of any
length neither can be, nor ought to be, all poetry.”
1 Biog. Lit. ch. xiv.
INTRODUCTION 35
The chief end of Poetry, then, is to induce Transcendental]
Feeling—experienced as solemn sense of the immediate pre-
sence of “That which was, and is, and ever shall be ”"—#in the
Poet's patient, by throwing him suddenly, for a moment, into
the state of dream-consciousness, out of a waking conscious-
ness which the Poet supplies with objects of interest; the
sudden lapse being effected in the patient by the communica-
tion to him of images and other products of the Poet’s dream-
consciousness, through the medium of language generally, but
not always, distinguished from that of ordinary communication
by rhythm and melody.
But the same result—the induction of the same form of
Transcendental Feeling—is produced, not only by the means
which the Poet employs,—dream-imagery communicated by
language generally, but not necessarily, rhythmic and
melodious,—but also by different artistic means—by the
means which the Painter and the Musician respectively
employ ; indeed—and this seems to me to be a matter of first-
rate importance for the Theory of Poetry—it is sometimes
produced by mere Nature herself without the aid of any art,
and by events as they happen in one’s life, and, above all, by
scenes and situations and persons remembered out of the days
of childhood and youth. “ We are always dreaming,” Renan
(I think) says somewhere, “of faces we knew when we were
eighteen.” In this connection let me ask the reader to
consider Wordsworth’s lines beginning—
There was a Boy ; ye knew him well, ye cliffs
And islands of Winander—
It seems to me that the mere scene described in these lines—
a scene to which it would not be difficult to find parallels in
any one’s experience—is, entirely apart from the language in
which it is described, and simply as a picture in the mind of
the person who remembers it, and in the minds of those to
whom he describes it, the miliew in which true poetic effect
is experienced. As I write this, I can hardly recall a line
of Wordsworth’s description ; but the picture which the read-
ing of his description has left in my mind is distinct; and
it is in dwelling on the picture that I feel the poetic effect—
as it was, 1 am convinced, in dwelling on the picture, before
96 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
he composed a line of the poem, that the poet himself ex-
perienced the feeling which he has communicated to me.
And the re-reading of such a poem is more likely to impair
than to enhance the feeling experienced by one who has once
for all pictured the scene.
The more I read and re-read the works of the great poets,
and the more I study the writings of those who have some
Theory of Poetry to set forth, the more am I convinced that
the question What is Poetry ? can be properly answered only
if we make What it does take precedence of How it does τί.
The result produced by Poetry—identical, I hold, with that
produced by the other fine arts, and even sometimes by the
mere contemplation of Nature and Human Life—is the one
thing of prime importance to be kept always in view, but is
too often lost sight of in the examination of the means by
which Poetry produces it, as distinguished from those by
which, say, Painting produces it. Much that is now being
written on the Theory of Poetry leaves one with the impres-
sion that the writers regard the end of Poetry as something
sui generis—in fact, something not to be distinguished from
the employment of technique peculiar to Poetry among the
fine arts.’ I shall return to this point afterwards.
In making the essential charm of Poetry—that for the
sake of which, in the last resort, it exists—lie in its power
of inducing, in certain carefully chosen circumstances, and so
of regulating, Transcendental Feeling experienced as solemn
sense of “That which was, and is, and ever shall be” over-
shadowing us with its presence, 1 must not be taken to mean
that there is no Poetry where this sense is not induced as
a distinct ecstatic experience. Great Poetry, just in those
places where it is at its very greatest, indeed shows its
peculiar power not otherwise than by inducing such distinct
ecstatic experience; but generally, poetic effect—not the very
greatest, but yet indisputably poetic effect—is produced by
something less—-by the presence of this form of Tran-
scendental Feeling in a merely nascent state,—just a little
more, and it would be there distinctly; as it is, there is a
1 Mr. Courthope (Life in Poetry, p. 78) says: ‘‘ Poetry lies in the invention
of the right metrical form—be it epic, dramatic, lyric, or satirie—for oe expres-
sion of some idea universally interesting to the imagination.” And ef. p. 63.
INTRODUCTION 37
“magic,” as we say, in the picture called up, or the natural
sentiment aroused, which fills us with wondering surmise—
of what, we know not. This “magic” may be illustrated
perhaps most instructively from lyric poetry, and there, from
the lightest variety of the kind, from the simple love song.
The pictures and sentiments suggested in the love song,
regarded in themselves, belong to an experience which seems
to be, more than any other, realised fully in the present,
without intrusion of past or future to overcast its blue day
with shadow. But look at these natural pictures and senti-
ments not directly, but as reflected in the magic mirror of
Poetry! They are still radiant in the light of their Present
—for let us think now only of the happy love song, not of the
love song which is an elegy—they are still in their happy
Present ; but they are not of it—they have become something
“rich and strange.” No words can describe the change which
they have suffered; it is only to be felt—as in such lines as
these :—
Das Médchen.
Ich hab’ ihn gesehen !
Wie ist mir geschehen ?
O himmlischer Blick !
Er kommt mir entgegen :
Ich weiche verlegen,
Ich schwanke zuriick.
Ich irre, ich triume !
Ihr Felsen, ihr Baume,
Verbergt meine Freude,
Verberget mein Gliick !
Der Jiingling.
Hier muss ich sie finden !
Ich sah sie verschwinden,
Ihr folgte mein Blick.
Sie kam mir entgegen ;
Dann trat sie verlegen
Und schamroth zuriick.
Ist ’s Hoffnung, sind ’s Triume ?
Thr Felsen, ihr Baume,
Entdeckt mir die Liebste,
Entdeckt mir mein Gliick !
The magic of such lines as these is due, I cannot doubt,
to the immediate presence of some great mass of feeling which
38 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
they rouse, and, at the same time, hold in check, behind our
mere understanding of their literal meaning. The pictures and
sentiments conjured up, simple and familiar though they are,
have yet that about them which I can only compare with the
mysterious quality of those indifferent things which are so
carefully noticed, and those trifling thoughts which are so
seriously dwelt upon, in an hour of great trouble.
But the Transcendental Feeling which, being pent up
behind our understanding of their literal meaning, makes the
magic of such lines, may burst through the iridescent film
which contains it. We have an example of this in the trans-
figuration of the Earthly into the Heavenly Beatrice. The
Transcendental Feeling latent behind our understanding of
the praise of Beatrice in the earlier sonnets and canzoni of
the Vita Nuova emerges as a distinct experience when we
assist at her praise in the Paradiso. Contrast the eleventh
sonnet of the Vita Nuova with the twenty-fifth, which, with
its commentary, is a prelude to the Paradiso. The eleventh
sonnet of the Vita Nuova ends :-—
Aiutatemi, donne, a farle onore.
Ogni dolcezza, ogni pensiero umile
Nasce nel core a chi parlar la sente ;
Ond’ é beato chi prima la vide.
Quel ch’ ella par quand’ un poco sorride,
Non si pud dicer, πὸ tener a mente,
Si ὃ nuovo miracolo gentile.
Here it is the magic of the lines which is all in all. Now let
us turn to the twenty-fifth, the last, sonnet of the Vita Nuova,
and to the words after it ending the book with the promise
of more worthy praise—more worthy, because offered with a
deeper sense of the encompassing presence of “That which
was, and is, and ever shall be ” :—
Oltre la spera, che pit larga gira,
Passa il sospiro ch’ esce del mio core :
Intelligenza nuova, che |’ Amore
Piangendo mette in lui, pur su lo tira.
Quand’ egli ὃ giunto 1d, dov’ el desira,
Vede una donna, che riceve onore,
E luce si, che per lo suo splendore
Lo peregrino spirito la mira,
Vedela tal, che, quando il mi ridice,
INTRODUCTION 39
Io non lo intendo, δὶ parla sottile
Al cor dolente, che lo far parlare.
So io ch’ el parla di quella gentile,
Perocché spesso ricorda Beatrice,
Sicch’ io lo intendo ben, donne mie care.
“Straightway after this sonnet was writ, there appeared
unto me a marvellous vision, wherein I beheld things which
made me determine not to say more concerning this Blessed
One until I should be able to speak of her more worthily.
To this end 1 studied with all diligence, as she knoweth well.
Wherefore, if it shall be the pleasure of Him through Whom
all things live that my life endure for some years, I hope to
say of her that which never before hath been said of woman.
And then may it please Him Who is Lord of Courtesy that
my Soul may go to behold the glory of her Lady, to wit, of
that Blessed Beatrice, who in glory doth gaze upon the face of
Him Who is blessed for evermore.”
4. TRANSCENDENTAL FEELING, THE EXPERIENCE TO WHICH THE
PLATONIC MYTH AND ALL OTHER FORMS OF POETRY
APPEAL, EXPLAINED GENETICALLY.
Transcendental Feeling I would explain genetically (as
every mood, whatever its present value may be,—that is
another matter— ought to be explained) as an effect produced
within consciousness (and, in the form in which Poetry is
chiefly concerned with Transcendental Feeling, within the
dream-consciousness) by the persistence in us of that primeval
condition from which we are sprung, when Life was still as
sound asleep as Death, and there was no Time yet. That we
should fall for a while, now and then, from our waking, time-
marking life, into the timeless slumber of this primeval life is
easy to understand; for the principle solely operative in that
primeval life is indeed the fundamental principle of our
nature, being that “ Vegetative Part of the Soul” which
made from the first, and still silently makes, the assumption
on which our whole rational life of conduct and science rests
—the assumption that Life is worth hving. No arguments
which Reason can bring for, or against, this ultimate truth
40 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
are relevant; for Reason cannot stir without assuming the
very thing which these arguments seek to prove or to disprove.
“Live thy life” is the Categorical Imperative addressed by
Nature to each one of her creatures according to its kind.
At the bottom of the scale of Life the Imperative is
obeyed silently, in timeless sleep, as by the trees of the
tropical forest :-—
The fair and stately things,
Impassive as departed kings,
All still in the wood’s stillness stood,
And dumb. The rooted multitude
Nodded and brooded, bloomed and dreamed,
Unmeaning, undivined. It seemed
No other art, no hope, they knew,
Than clutch the earth and seek the blue.
* % * * 4
*
My eyes were touched with sight.
I saw the wood for what it was:
The lost and the victorious cause,
The deadly battle pitched in line,
Saw weapons cross and shine ;
Silent defeat, silent assault,
A battle and a burial vault.
* * * * *
Green conquerors from overhead
Bestrode the bodies of their dead :
The Cesars of the sylvan field,
Unused to fail, foredoomed to yield :
For in the groins of branches, lo !
The cancers of the orchid grow.!
When to the “ Vegetative” the “Sensitive” Soul is first
added, the Imperative is obeyed by creatures which, experi-
encing only isolated feelings, and retaining no traces of them
in memory, still live a timeless life, without sense of past or
future, and consequently without sense of selfhood.
Then, with Memory, there comes, in the higher animals,
some dim sense of a Self dating back and prospecting for-
ward. Time begins to be. But the sense of its passage brings
no melancholy; for its end in death is not yet anticipated
by reflective thought.
Man’s anticipation of death would oppress his life with
1 Songs of Travel, R. L. Stevenson: ‘‘The Woodman.”
INTRODUCTION 4]
insupportable melancholy, were it not that current employ-
ments, especially those which are spoken of as duties, are 80
engrossing—that is, | would explain, were it not that his
conscious life feels down with its roots into that “ Part of the
Soul” which, without sense of past or future or self, silently
holds on to Life, in the implicit faith that it is worth living
—that there is a Cosmos in which it is good to be. As it 18,
there is still room enough for melancholy in his hours of ease
and leisure. If comfort comes to him in such hours, it is
not from his thinking out some solution of his melancholy,
but from his putting by thought, and sinking, alone, or led by
some μυσταγωγὸς τοῦ βίου, for a while into the sleep of that
fundamental “ Part of the Soul.” When he wakes into daily
life again, it is with the elementary faith of this Part of his
Soul newly confirmed in his heart; and he is ready, in the
strength of it, to defy all that seems to give it the lie in the
world of the senses and scientific understanding. Sometimes
the very melancholy, which overclouds him at the thought
of death, is transfigured, in the glow of this faith, into an
exultant resignation—“ I shall pass, but He abideth for ever.”
Sometimes, and more often, the faith does not merely trans-
figure, but dispels, the melancholy, and fills his heart with
sweet hope, which fancy renders into dreams of personal
immortality.
To sum up in effect what I have said about Transcendental
Feeling: it is feeling which indeed appears in our ordinary
object-distinguishing, time-marking consciousness, but does
not originate in it. It is to be traced to the influence on
consciousness of the presence in us of that “ Part of the
Soul” which holds on, in timeless sleep, to Life as worth
living. Hence Transcendental Feeling is at once the solemn
sense of Timeless Being—of “ That which was, and is, and ever
shall be” overshadowing us—and the conviction that Life
is good. In the first-mentioned phase Transcendental Feeling
appears as an abnormal experience of our conscious life, as
a well-marked ecstatic state;*+ in its other phase—as con-
viction that Life is good—Transcendental Feeling may be said
to be a normal experience of our conscious life: it is not
1 See Paradiso, xxxiii. 82-96, quoted supra, p. 23, and Vita Nuova, Sonnet
xxv., quoted supra, p. 38.
42 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
an experience occasionally cropping up alongside of other
experiences, but a feeling which accompanies all the experi-
ences of our conscious life—that “sweet hope,” γλυκεῖα
ἐλπίς, in the strength of which we take the trouble to seek
after the particular achievements which make up the waking
life of conduct and science. Such feeling, though normal, is
rightly called Transcendental,’ because it is not one of the
effects, but the condition, of our entering upon and persever-
ing in that course of endeavour which makes experience.
5. THE PLATONIC MYTH ROUSES AND REGULATES TRAN-
SCENDENTAL FEELING BY (1) IMAGINATIVE REPRESEN-
TATION OF IDEAS OF REASON, AND (2) IMAGINATIVE
DEDUCTION OF CATEGORIES OF THE UNDERSTANDING
AND MORAL VIRTUES.
I have offered these remarks about Transcendental Feeling
in order to preface a general statement which I now venture
to make about the Platonic Myths—that they are Dreams
expressive of Transcendental Feeling, told in such a manner
and such a context that the telling of them regulates, for
the service of conduct and science, the feeling expressed.
How then are conduct and science served by such regulation
of Transcendental Feeling ?
In the wide-awake life of conduct and science, Under-
standing, left to itself, claims to be the measure of truth ;
Sense, to be the criterion of good and bad. Transcendental
Feeling, welling up from another “ Part of the Soul,” whispers
to Understanding and Sense that they are leaving out some-
thing. What? Nothing less than the secret plan of the
Universe. And what is that secret plan? The other “ Part
of the Soul” indeed comprehends it in silence as it is,*® but
can explain it to the Understanding only in the symbolical
language of the interpreter, Imagination—in Vision.* In
the Platonic Myth we assist at a Vision in which the
1 γλυκεῖά ol καρδίαν ἀτάλλοισα γηροτρόφος συναορεῖ ἐλπίς, ἃ μάλιστα θνατῶν
πολύστροφον γνώμαν xvSepva.—Pindar, quoted Rep. 331 a,
2 As distinguished from ‘‘ Empirical Feeling’’ ; see infra, p. 389.
3 Plotinus, Znn. iii. 8. 4, and see infra, p. 45.
* Tim. 71 Ὁ, &. The liver, the organ of [magination, is a μαντεῖον,
INTRODUCTION 43
wide-awake life of our ordinary experiences and doings is
seen as an act in a vast drama of the creation and con-
summation of all things. The habitudes and faculties of our
moral and intellectual constitution, which determine @ priori
our experiences and doings in this wide-awake life, are them-
selves clearly seen to be determined by causes which, in turn,
are clearly seen to be determined by the Plan of the Universe
which the Vision reveals. And more than this —the Universe,
planned as the Vision shows, is the work—albeit accomplished
under difficulties—of a wise and good God; for see how
mindful He is of the welfare of man’s soul throughout all its
wanderings from creation to final purification, as the Vision
unfolds them! We ought, then, to be of good hope, and to
use strenuously, in this present life, habitudes and faculties
which are so manifestly in accordance with a universal plan
so manifestly beneficent.
It is as producing this mood in us that the Platonic Myth,
Aetiological and Eschatological, regulates Transcendental Feel-
ing for the service of conduct and science. In Aetiological
Myth the Categories of the Understanding and the Moral
Virtues are deduced from a Plan of the Universe, of which
they are represented as parts seen, together with the whole,
in a former life, and “remembered” piecemeal in this; in
Aetiological and Eschatological (but chiefly in Eschatological)
Myth the “Ideas of Reason,” Soul, Cosmos, as completed
system of the Good, and God, are set forth for the justification
of that “sweet hope which guides the wayward thought of mortal
man ’—the hope without which we should not take the trouble
to enter upon, and persevere in, that struggle after ever fuller
* comprehension of conditions,’ ever wider “correspondence with
environment,’ which the habits and faculties of our moral
. and intellectual structure—the Categories of the Understand-
ing and the Moral Virtues—enable us to carry on in detail.
At this point, before I go on further to explain Plato’s hand-
ling of Transcendental Feeling, I will make bold to explain my
own metaphysical position. A very few words will suffice.
I hold that it is in Transcendental Feeling, manifested
1 Kant makes ‘‘ Reason” (¢.e. the whole man in opposition to this or that
part, ¢.g. “‘understanding”) the source of ‘‘ Transccndental Ideas,” described as
‘“‘conceptions of the unconditioned,” ‘‘conceptions of the totality of the con-
ditions of any thing that is given as conditioned.”
~—
44 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
normally as Faith in the Value of Life, and ecstatically as
sense of Timeless Being, and not in Thought proceeding by
way of speculative construction, that Consciousness comes
nearest to the object of Metaphysics, Ultimate Reality. It is
in Transcendental Feeling, not in Thought, that Consciousness
comes nearest to Ultimate Reality, because without that
Faith in the Value of Life, which is the normal manifestation
of Transcendental Feeling, Thought could not stir. It is
in Transcendental Feeling that Consciousness is aware of
“The Good”—of the Universe as a place in which it is good
to be. Transcendental Feeling is thus the beginning of
Metaphysics, for Metaphysics cannot make a start without
assuming “The Good, or the Universe as a place in which
it is good to be”; but it is also the end of Metaphysics, for
Speculative Thought does not really carry us further than
the Feeling, which inspired it from the first, has already
brought us: we end, as we began, with the Feeling that it
is good to be here. To the question, “ Why is it good to be
here ?” the answers elaborated by Thought are no more really
answers than those supplied by the Mythopoeic Fancy inter-
preting Transcendental Feeling. When the former have
value (and they are sometimes not only without value, but
mischievous) they are, like those supplied by the Mythopoeic
Fancy, valuable as impressive affirmations of the Faith in us,
not at all as explanations of its ground. Conceptual solutions
of the “ problem of the Universe” carry us no further along
the pathway to reality than imaginative solutions do. The
reason why they are thought to carry us further is that they
mimic those conceptual solutions of departmental problems
which we are accustomed to accept, and do well to accept,
from the positive sciences. Imaginative solutions of the
“problem of the Universe” are thought to be as inferior to
conceptual solutions as imaginative solutions of departmental
problems are to conceptual. The fallacy involved in this
analogy is that of supposing that there is a “problem of the
Universe” —a difficulty presented which Thought may
“solve.” The “problem of the Universe” was first pro-
pounded, and straightway solved, at the moment when Life
began on the earth,—when a living being—as such, from the
very first, lacking nothing which is essential to “ selfhood ” or
INTRODUCTION 45
“personality first appeared as Mode of the Universe. The
“problem of the Universe” is not propounded to Consciousness,
and Consciousness cannot solve it, Consciousness can feel
that it has been propounded and solved elsewhere, but cannot
genuinely think it. It is “propounded” to that on which
Consciousness supervenes (and supervenes only because the
problem has been already “solved”’)—it is propounded to
what I would call “selfhood,” or “ personality,’ and is ever
silently being “understood” and “solved” by that principle,
in the continued “ vegetative life” of individual and race.
And the most trustworthy, or least misleading, report of
what the “problem” is, and what its “solution” is, reaches
Consciousness through Feeling. Feeling stands nearer than
Thought does to that basal self or personality which is,
indeed, at once the living “ problem of the Universe” and its
living “solution.” The whole matter is summed up for me in
the words of Plotinus, with which I will conclude this statement
which I have ventured to make of my metaphysical position :
“Tf a man were to inquire of Nature—‘ Wherefore dost
thou bring forth creatures?’ and she were willing to give
ear and to answer, she would say—‘ Ask me not, but under-
stand in silence, even as I am silent.’” !
In suggesting that the Platonic Myth awakens and
regulates Transcendental Feeling (1) by imaginative representa-
tion of Ideas of Reason, and (2) by imaginative deduction
of Categories of the Understanding and Moral Virtues, I do
not wish to maintain that the Kantian distinction between
Categories of the Understanding and Ideas of Reason was
explicit in Plato’s mind. There is plenty of evidence in his
writings to show that it was not explicit; but it is a distinction
of vital importance for philosophical thought, and it need not
surprise us to find it sometimes implicitly recognised by a thinker
of Plato’s calibre. At any rate, it is a distinction which the
student of Plato’s Myths will do well to have explicit in his
own mind. Let us remind ourselves, then, of what Kant
means by Categories of the Understanding and Ideas of
Reason respectively.
1 Plot. Enn. iii. 8. 4, καὶ εἴ ris δὲ αὐτὴν (τὴν φύσιν) ἔροιτο τίνος ἕνεκα ποιεῖ,
εἰ τοῦ ἐρωτῶντος ἐθέλοι ἐπαΐειν καὶ λέγειν, εἴποι ἄν" “ἐχρῆν μὲν μὴ ἐρωτᾶν, ἀλλὰ
συνιέναι καὶ αὐτὸν σιωπῇ, ὥσπερ ἐγὼ σιωπῷ καὶ οὐκ εἴθισμαι λέγειν."
46 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Kant’s Categories of the Understanding are certain ὦ priori
Conceptions, certain Characters of the Mental Structure,
without which there could be no “experience ”—no “ know-
ledge” of that which alone is “ known,” the world of sensible
phenomena. These Categories, however, if they are not
to remain mere logical abstractions, must be regarded as
functions of the Understanding—as active manifestations of
the unifying principle of mind or consciousness. As func-
tions, the Categories need for their actual manifestation the
presence of “sensations.” In the absence of sensations they
are “empty.” They are functions of the mental organism or
structure which are called into operation by stimulation from
“environment,” and that only in schemata or “ figurations ”
involving the “garment” or “vehicle” of Time Thus, the
Category of Substance is realised in “the schema of the per-
sistent in time’”—Something present to sense is perceived as
“Substance” persisting in change of “attributes”; the
Category of Cause is realised in “the schema of succession in
time,”—two sensible phenomena, one of which is antecedent
and the other consequent, are conceived as cause and effect—
the latter is conceived as following necessarily from the
former. “The schemata, then, are the true scientific cate-
gories.”” This amounts to saying that the Understanding,
if rightly conducted, will never make a transcendental use,
but only an empirical use, of any of its a priori principles.
These principles can apply only to objects of sense, as con-
forming to the universal conditions of a possible experience
(phenomena), and never to things as such (nowmena), or apart
from the manner in which we are capable of perceiving them.*
In contrast to the Categories of the Understanding which
are immanent—adequately realised in sense experience; we
say, for instance, that this thing present to sense is cause cf
that other thing—the Ideas of Reason are transcendent :
they overleap the limits of all experience—in experience no
objects can be presented that are adequate to them. They
1 See Wallace's Kant, p. 172.
* Wallace’s Kant, p. 173.
3 See Kritik d. reinen Vern pp. 297, 298, 303. A conception is employed
transcendentally when it occurs in a proposition regarding things as such or in
themselves ; empirically, when the proposition relates merely to phenomena, or
objects of a possible experience.
INTRODUCTION 47
are defined, generally, as “problematic conceptions of the
totality of conditions of anything that is given as con-
ditioned”; or, since the unconditioned alone makes a totality
of conditions possible, as “conceptions of the unconditioned,
in so far as it contains a ground for the synthesis of the
conditioned.” ‘There are three Ideas of Reason, products of
its activity in “carrying the fragmentary and detailed results
of human experience to their rational issues in a postulated
totality. . . . These three ideas are the Soul, as the super-
sensible substance from which the phenomena of Consciousness
are derivative manifestations; the World [Cosmos, Universe],
as ultimate totality of external phenomena; and God, as
unity and final spring of all the diversities of existence.
The ideas, strictly as ideal, have a legitimate and a necessary
place in human thought. They express the unlimited obliga-
tion which thought feels laid upon itself to unify the details
of observation; they indicate an anticipated and postulated
convergence between the various lines indicated by observation,
even though observation may show that the convergence will
never visibly be reached; or they are standards and model
types towards which experience may, and indeed must, if she
is true to the cause of truth, conceive herself bound to approxi-
mate. Such is the function of ideas, as regulative; they
govern and direct the action of intellect in the effort to
systematise and centralise knowledge. ... But the ideas
naturally sink into another place in human knowledge.
Instead of stimulating research, they become, as Kant once
puts it, a cushion for the lazy intellect. Instead of being the
ever-unattainable goals of investigation, they play a part in
founding the edifice of science. Ceasing to be regulative of
research, they come to be constitutive of a pretended know-
ledge.” ὅ
The Ideas of Reason, then, are aims, aspirations, ideals ;
but they have no adequate objects in a possible experi-
ence. The three “Sciences” which venture to define objects
for them—Rational Psychology, Rational Cosmology, and
Theology—are, according to Kant, sham sciences. The Idea
of Soul, the absolute or unconditioned unity of the thinking
1 Kritik,? pp. 379, 384 (Prof. Watson’s Transl. ).
2 Wallace’s Kant, pp. 182, 183.
48 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
subject, has no object in possible experience answering
to it. We are making an illegitimate transcendental use
of a Category when we conceive the subject of all knowledge
as an object under the Category of Substance. Similarly, the
ultimate totality of external phenomena—the Cosmos as
absolute whole—is not an object of possible experience; it is
not something given in sense, to be brought under Categories
or scientific conceptions. Finally, the Idea of God is perverted
from its regulative use, when it is made the foundation of a
science—Dogmatic Theology—which applies the Categories
of Substance, Cause, and the rest, to a Supreme Being, as if
He were an object presented in sense experience.
To sum up:—The Categories of the Understanding are so
many conditions of thought which Human Understanding,
constituted as it is, expects to find, and does find, fully
satisfied in the details of sensible experience. The Ideas
of Reason indicate the presence of a condition of thought
which is not satisfied in any particular item of experi-
ence. They are aspirations or ideals expressing that nisus
after fuller and fuller comprehension of conditions, wider and
wider correspondence with environment—in short, that nisus
after Life, and faith in it as good, without which man would
not will to pursue the experience rendered possible in detail
by the Categories. But although there can be no speculative
science of objects answering to the Ideas of Reason, we
should come to naught if we did not act as if there were such
objects; and any representation of objects answering to these
Ideas which does not invite exposure by pretending to scientifie
rank is valuable as helping us to “act as 1. The objects of
these Ideas are objects, not for science, but for faith. When
the scientific understanding “ proves” that God exists, or that
the Soul is immortal, refutation lies near at hand; but the
“as if” of the moral agent rests on a sure foundation.’
1 «We have three postulates of practical reason which are closely related to
the three Ideas of theoretical reason. These Ideas reason in its theoretical use
set before itself as problems to be solved ; but it was unable to supply the solution.
Thus, the attempt to prove theoretically the ΟΝ of the thinking subject
led only to paralogism ; for it involved a confusion of the subject presupposed in
all knowledge of objects, and only in that point of view permanent, with an
object known under the Category of Substance. But now we find that a faith of
reason in the endless existence of the self-conscious subject is bound up with the
possibility of his fulfilling the moral law. Again, the attempt speculatively to
determine the world as a system complete in itself landed us in an antinomy
INTRODUCTION 49
To return now from Kant to Plato :—Plato’s Myths induce
and regulate Transcendental Feeling for the service of conduct
and knowledge by setting forth the @ priori conditions of con-
duct and knowledge—that is, (1) by representing certain ideals
or presuppositions, in concrete form——the presuppositions of
an immortal Soul, of an intelligible Cosmos, and of a wise and
good God—all three being natural expressions of the sweet
hope in the faith of which man lives and struggles on and on ;
and (2) by tracing to their origin in the wisdom and goodness of
God, and the constitution of the Cosmos, certain habitudes or
faculties (categories and virtues), belonging to the make of
man’s intellectual and moral nature, which prescribe the various
modes in which he must order in detail the life which his
faith or sweet hope impels him to maintain. Myth, not
argumentative conversation, is rightly chosen by Plato as the
vehicle of exposition when he deals with @ priori conditions
of conduct and knowledge, whether they be ideals or faculties.
When a man asks himself, as he must, for the reason of the
hope in which he struggles on in the ways prescribed by his
faculties, he is fain to answer—‘“ Because I am an immortal
Soul, created with these faculties by a wise and good God,
under whose government I live in a Universe which is His
finished work.” This answer, according to Plato, as I read
him, is the natural and legitimate expression of the “ sweet hope
which guides the wayward thought of mortal man”; and the
expression reacts on—gives strength and steadiness to—that
which it expresses. It is a “true answer” in the sense that
man’s life would come to naught if he did not act and think
as if it were true. But Soul, Cosmos as completed system of
the Good, and God are not particular objects presented, along
which we were able to escape only by the distinction of the phenomenal from
the intelligible world—a distinction which theoretic reason suggested, but which
it could not verify. But now, the moral law forces us to think ourselves as free,
and therefore as belonging to an intelligible world which we are further obliged
to treat as the reality of which the phenomenal world is the appearance. Lastly,
the Absolute Being was to theoretic reason a mere ideal which knowledge could
not realise ; but now His existence is certified to us as the necessary condition of
the possibility of the object of a Will determined by the moral law. Thus, through
practical reason we gain a conviction of the reality of objects corresponding to the
three Ideas of Pure Reason. We do not, indeed, acquire what is properly to be
called knowledge of these objects. We only change the problematic conception
of them into an assertion of their real existence; but, as we are not able to
bring any perception under such Ideas, so we are unable to make any synthetic
judgment regarding the objects the existence of which we assert.’’—Caird’s
Critical Philosophy of Kant, ii. 297.
E
50 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
with other particular objects, in sensible experience. This
the Scientific Understanding fails to grasp. When it tries to
deal with them—and it is ready enough to make the venture
—it must needs envisage them, more suo, as though they were
particular objects which could be brought under its Categories in
sensible experience. Then the question arises, “Where are
they?” And the answer comes sooner or later, “They are
nowhere to be found.” Thus “science ” chills the “sweet hope ”
in which man lives, by bringing the natural expression of it
into discredit.
This, I take it, is Plato’s reason for employing Myth,
rather than the language and method of “science,” when he
wishes to set forth the @ priori as it expresses itself in Ideals.
In the mise en scéne of the Zimaeus or Myth of Er, Soul,
Cosmos, and God are presented concretely indeed, but in such
visionary form that there is little danger of mistaking them
for particulars of sense requiring “scientific explanation.”
Again, as for the a priori Habitudes or Faculties of man’s
moral and intellectual structure, whereby he corresponds with
his environment in detail—these, too, Plato holds, are to be
set forth in Myth; for they are properly set forth when they
are “deduced ”—traced to their origin, which is that of the
Cosmos—a matter beyond the reach of the Scientific Under-
standing. It is in a Myth of Reminiscence, therefore, such
as that in the Phaedrus, that we must take account of the
question of “the origin of knowledge”; in a Myth such as
that of the Golden Age in the Laws, of the question of “ the
origin of society.” "ἢ
These and other ultimate “questions of origin,” carrying
us back as they do to the nature of God and the constitution
of the Cosmos, are not for “science.” Plato found Myth
invested in the minds of his contemporaries with the authority
of old tradition and the new charm which Pindar and the
tragedians had bestowed upon it; perhaps, too, if my sugges-
tion? has any value, he found it associated, in his own mind
and the minds of other Socratici viri, with the personal
influence of the Master where that influence was most im-
! The spirit, and much in the detail, of the Cratylus justify the view that
Plato approached the question of the ‘‘ origin of language” too διὰ μυθολογίας.
4 Supra, p. 3.
INTRODUCTION 5]
pressive and mysterious—he found Myth thus ready to his
hand, and he took it up, and used it in an original way for a
philosophical purpose, and transformed it as the Genius of
Sculpture transformed the ξόανα of Daedalus.
Further remarks on the @ priori in conduct and knowledge
as set forth by means of the mythological deduction of
Faculties will be best deferred till we come to the Phaedrus
Myth; but some general observations on the ὦ priori as set
forth by means of the mythological representation of Ideals—
“forms of hope,” ὁ “ objects of faith ’”—may be helpful at this
introductory stage. Let us then consider broadly, first, Plato’s
handling of the “ Idea of God,” and then his handling of the
“Tdea of Soul.” Consideration of his handling of the “ Idea
of Cosmos” may well be deferred till we come to the
Timaeus.
6. PLato’s TREATMENT OF THE IDEA OF GOD
To the religious consciousness, whether showing itself in
the faith which “ non-religious people” sometimes find privately
and cling to in time of trouble, or expressed to the world in
the creeds and mythologies of the various religions, the Idea
of God is the idea of a Personal God, or, it may be, of personal
Gods. The God of the religious consciousness, whatever else
he may be, is first of all a separate individual—one among
other individuals, human and, it may be, superhuman, to
whom he stands in relations by which he is determined or
limited. He is Maker, King, Judge, Father, Friend. It may
be true that attributes logically inconsistent with his being a
finite individual person are ascribed to him in some of the
creeds; but the inconsistency, when perceived, is always so
dealt with that the all-important idea of his personality
is left with undiminished power. The idea of the separate
individuality or personality of the Self is not more essential
to the moral consciousness than the idea of the separate
individuality or personality of God is to the religious conscious-
ness; and in the religious consciousness, at any rate, both of
i It never yet did hurt,
To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope.
Henry IV. (Part ii.), i. 3,
52 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
these ideas are involyed—an individual Self stands in a
personal relation to another individual, God.’
But logical thinking—whether in natural science or in
metaphysics—when it busies itself, as it is too fond of doing,
with the “Idea of God,” arrives at a conclusion—this cannot
be too plainly stated—flatly opposed to the conviction of the
religious consciousness. Aristotle’s ἐνέργεια ἄνευ δυνάμεως
is not a Person; nor is Spinoza’s Substantia Infinita; nor
is the Absolute of later systems, although its true logical
character has sometimes been disguised; nor is the “ Nature ”
of modern science. Logical or scientific thinking presupposes
and makes explicit the idea of an orderly Universe, of an
organic whole determining necessarily the behaviour of its
parts, of a single system realising itself fully, at every
moment and at every place, in events which, for the most
part, recur, and recurring retain a uniform character, or only
change their character gradually. We should not be here,
science assures us—living beings, acting and thinking—if the
changes in our environment were catastrophic, not orderly and
gradual. But although the Universe must be orderly 7 we
are to live, it does not follow that it is orderly that we may
live. Logical or scientific thinking, as such, scouts teleology
in that form in which it is cherished by the religious conscious-
ness, belief in a Particular Providence,—logical or scientific
thinking, as such, that is, when it is not deflected from its path,
as it sometimes is, by the attraction of religious conviction,
just as the religious consciousness, on the other hand, is
sometimes disturbed by science. Teleology, when taken up
seriously, not merely played with, is a method which assumes
the intentions of a Personal Ruler of the Universe, and explains
the means which he employs in order to carry out his
intentions.” Logical or scientific thinking, as such, finds it
1 Of. Hegelianism and Personality, A. 8. Pringle-Pattison, pp. 217-218.
2 In saying that “science” scouts the teleology which recommends itself to the
‘* religious consciousness” I do not think that I contradict the view, so ably
enforced by Prof. W. James, that “ teleology is the essence of intelligence "—that
the translation, in which ‘‘science” consists, of the perceptual into the con-
ceptual order “always takes place for the sake of some subjective interest, . . .
and the conception with which we handle a bit of sensible experience is really
nothing but a teleological instrument. This whole function of conceiving, of
fixing, and holding-fast to meanings, has no significance apart from the fact that
the conceiver is a creature with partial purposes and private ends.”—Princ. of
Psych. i. 482.
INTRODUCTION 53
inconceivable that the Part——and a Personal God, an individual
distinguished from other individuals, is a Part—should thus
rule the Whole. If science and the religious consciousness
try, as they sometimes do, to come to an understanding with
each other on the basis of such a phrase as “ Infinite Person ”
or “ Universal Consciousness,” the result is only to bring out
more clearly, in the self-contradictory phrase, the incompati-
bility of their two points of view, and to make the breach,
which it is attempted thus to heal, still wider. It is wise to
recognise, once for all, that the scientific understanding, work-
ing within its own region, finds no place for a Personal God,
and that the religious consciousness demands a Personal God
—a Part which rules the Whole. The scientific conception
of Whole ruling Parts is, indeed, so distasteful to the religious
consciousness that it always leans to Polytheism rather than
to Monotheism.
That the incompatibility of the scientific conception with
the conviction of the religious consciousness was present to
Plato’s mind is proved, as it seems to me, by the circumstance
that it is in Myth that he presents the idea of a Personal
God and the correlate idea of a Personal Immortality of the
Soul.
Lest it should be objected that it is “ unhistorical” to
ascribe to Plato any perception of the issue on which religion
and “modern science” are at variance, it may be well to point
out that Plato’s pupil, Aristotle, was aware of the issue, and
faced it with characteristic directness. Any one who reads the
Metaphysics, De Anima, and Ethics in connection will be struck
by the way in which the logician gives up, apparently without
scruple, the idea of a Personal God, and the correlate idea of
the Personal Immortality of the Soul.
It may help us to make out what Plato hopes for from
presenting these correlate ideas, in Myth, to the adult readers
of his Dialogues, if we recall what he lays down in the second
book of the Republic about the religious instruction of young
children, on which all mental and moral education, according
to him, is to be founded.
The education of children, he tells us, is not to begin with
instruction in “ facts” or “truths.” It is not to begin, as we
might say, with the “ elementary truths of science” and “ facts
54 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
of common life,” as learned in the primer. Young children
cannot yet understand what is true in fact. We must begin,
then, with what is false in fact—with fictions, with stories.
Their only faculty is that of being interested in stories.
Hence it is all important to have good stories to tell them—
to invent Myths with a good tendency. They are to be
told what is literally false, in order that they may get hold of
what is spiritually trve—the great fundamental truth that God
is “ beneficent” and “ truthful ”—both adjectives applicable to
a person ; and a finite person, for they are to believe that he is
the author only of what is good.
That God is such a finite person, then, is true, Plato would
tell us; not, indeed, true in the sense in which the description
of phenomena or data of experience may be true, but true, as
being the only or best possible expression, at least for children,
of the maxim or principle of guidance without which human
life must come to naught. If children believe that God is the
author, not of good only, but of evil also, they will grow up to
be discontented and without hope—without faith in the good
providence which helps those who help themselves—ready
always to blame God or bad luck, rather than themselves, for
their troubles and failures. If they do not believe that he is
truthful, they will grow up to be careless observers and abstract
reasoners, neglecting, as insignificant and “due to accident,”
those so-called little things which the careful interpreter of
nature recognises as important signs and symptoms. They
will grow up without the principles on which Conduct and
Science respectively depend. On the one hand, they will be
without that “hope which guides the wayward thoughts of
men ”—the faith (which indeed all struggle for existence
implies) that honest effort will, on the whole, succeed in attain-
ing good; they will believe instead—so far as it is possible
for a living being to believe this—that “life is not worth
living”; and so far as they are not, and cannot be, consistent
pessimists, they will be selfish, individualistic citizens. On
the other hand, if they have not been taught in their
childhood to believe that “God is truthful,” they will grow
up without the first postulate of science—faith in the order
and interpretability of the world. In one sentence,—“ The
Lie in the Soul”—the spirit of pessimism in conduct and
INTRODUCTION 55
scepticism in science——will bring to naught all those who have
not believed, in their childhood, that God is a Person, good
and true. Jn their childhood: May they, will they, give up
afterwards the belief in his Personality when it has done its
work ?
Most of them, continuing to live in “sense and imagina-
tion,’—albeit, under good guidance, useful lives,—will have no
difficulty in retaining the belief of their childhood; but a few
will become so “logical” that they will hardly be able to
retain it.
It is in relation to the needs of these latter that we ought
to consider the Myths setting forth the idea of a Personal God
and the correlate idea of Personal Immortality of the Soul,
which Plato has put into his Dialogues. In these Myths
they have representations of what they once believed as
fact without questioning. They see the world of childhood
—that dream-world which was once so real—put on the stage
for them by a great Maker of Mysteries and Miracles.
But why represent it? That the continuity of their lives
may be brought home to them—that they may be led to
sympathise with what they were, and, sympathising, to realise
that what they now are—is due to what they were. It is
because the continuity of life is lost sight of, that religious
conviction and scientific thought are brought into opposition.
The scientific thinker, looking back over his life, is apt to
divide it sharply into the time during which he believed what
is not true, and the time during which he has known the
truth.
Thus to fail in sympathy with his own childhood, and
with the happy condition of the majority of men and women,
and with the feelings which may yet return to comfort him
when the hour of his death draws near, betokens, Plato would
Say, a serious flaw in a man’s “ philosophy of life.” The man
abstracts “the present time” from its setting in his whole life.
He plucks from its stem the “ knowledge of truth,” and thinks
that it still lives. The “knowledge of truth,” Plato would tell
us, does not come except to the man whose character has been
formed and understanding guided, in childhood and youth, by
unquestioning faith in the goodness and truthfulness of a
Personal God. And this faith he must reverence all his life
56 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
through, looking back to his childhood and forward to his
death. To speak of this faith as false, and a thing of the
past, is what no Thinker will care to do. The Thinker—*“ the
spectator of all time and all existence ”—does not cut up the
organic unity of his life into the abstractions of Past, and
Present, and Future—Past which is non-existent, Present
which is a mere imaginary point, Future which is non-
existent. His life is all one Present, concrete, continuous,
indivisible.?
The man who cuts up life into Past, Present, and Future,
does so with the intent of appropriating something for his own
private use. The Thinker, who sees Life clearly and sees it
whole, will regard religious belief and scientific knowledge as
both means for the sake of conduct, or corporate action.
He will show his devotion to this end by setting his face
steadily against individualism in the pursuit of knowledge and
the holding of belief—against the scientific specialist’s ideal
of the indefinite accumulation of knowledge—against the
priest’s doctrine of the opus operatum, effectual in securing the
only true good, as it is thought, the private profit of the
individual—hardest of all, against the refined form of indi-
vidualism by which he is himself tempted, the individualism
of the schoolman, or doctrinaire, who withdraws himself within
his logical faculty, and pleases himself there with the con-
struction of “a System”—pyyata ἐξεπίτηδες ἀλλήλοις
ὡμοιωμένα.
In the Allegory” of the Cave, Plato shows us the victory of
the Thinker over individualism. The Thinker has come out at
last into the daylight, and, when he might stay in it always
and enjoy it, he will not stay, but returns into the Cave to
pay his tpodeta—the debt which he owes for the education
which he has received—by carrying on, in the training of a
new generation, the régime to which he owes it that he has
seen the light. “We shall compel him to return,” Plato says,
and he adds, “ We do him no injustice.” The compulsion is
moral, not external.’ It is the obligation which the perfectly
' He realises in an eminent degree what seems to be the experience of us all ;
for ‘‘our ‘present’ is always an extended time,” not an indivisible point: see
Bosanquet’s Logic, i. 351.
* —and Myth; see infra, p. 252.
* Rep. 520.
INTRODUCTION 57
educated man feels laid upon him by his consciousness of his
inherence in the continuous life of his city—the obligation
of seeing to it that his own generation shall have worthy
successors.
How important, then, to keep alive in the elders sympathy
with the faith in which it is necessary they should bring up the
young generation ! Consciousness of what they owe as τροφεῖα,
and earnest desire to pass the State on to worthy successors,
will do most to keep alive this sympathy; but, on the other
hand, the logical understanding will always be reminding them
that “in truth” (though perhaps not “in practice”) the doctrines
of science and the convictions of the religious consciousness are
“incompatible”; and it is here, I take it, with regard to this
ἀπορία started by abstract thought, that Plato hopes for good
from Myth, as from some great Ritual at which thinkers may
assist and feel that there are mysteries which the scientific
understanding cannot fathom.
That the scientific understanding, then, working within
its own region, must reject the idea of a Personal God, was, I
take it, as clear to Plato as it was to Aristotle.
Would Plato, then, say that the proposition “There is a
Personal God” is not trwe? He would say that what children
are to be taught to believe—*“ that once upon a time God or
the Gods did this thing or that”— is not true as historical
fact. Where historical or scientific fact is concerned, the
scientific understanding is within its own region, and is com-
petent to say “it is true” or “it is not true.” But the
scientific understanding cannot be allowed to criticise its own
foundation—that which all the faculties of the living man, the
scientific understanding itself included, take for granted—“ that
it 15 good to go on living the human life into which I have
been born; and that it is worth while employing my faculties
carefully in the conduct of my life, for they do not deceive me.”
This fundamental assumption of Life, “ It is good to live, and
my faculties are trustworthy,” Plato throws into the proposi-
tion, “ There is a Personal God, good and true, who keeps me
in all my ways.” He wishes children to take this proposition
literally. He knows that abstract thinkers will say that “it
is not true ”; but he is satisfied if the men, whose parts and
training have made them influential in their generation, read
58 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
it to mean—things happen as if they were ordered by ἃ
Personal God, good and true. To this as 7f—this recognition
of “Personal God” as “Regulative Principle”—they are
helped—so I take Plato to think—by two agencies, of which
Myth, breaking in upon the logic of the Dialogue with the
representation of the religious experience of childhood, and of
venerable old age like that of Cephalus, is one. The other
agency is Ritual.’ This is recognised by Plato as very im-
portant ; and Myth may be taken to be its literary counterpart.
One of the most significant things in the Republic is the de-
ference paid to Delphi. Philosophy—that is, the Constitution
of the Platonic State—indeed lays down “ canons of orthodoxy,”
the τύποι περὶ θεολογίας *—determines the religious dogma ;
but the ritual is to be determined from without, by Delphi.’
Religion is to be at once rational and traditional—at once
reformed, and conservative of catholic use. Plato was not in
a position to realise the difficulty involved in this arrangement.
It is a modern discovery, that ritual reacts on dogma, and in
some cases even creates it. Plato seems to take for granted
that the pure religious dogma of his State will not in time be
affected by the priestly ritual. At any rate, he assumes that
his State, as the civil head of a united Hellas,* and Delphi, as
the ecclesiastical head, will, like Empire and Church in Dante’s
De Monarchia, be in sympathy with each other.
It is plain, then, from the place—if I have rightly indicated
the place—which Plato assigns to Ritual in daily life, and to
1 **A rite is an assemblage of symbols, grouped round a religious idea or a
religious act, intended to enhance its solemn character or develop its meaning—
just asa myth is the grouping of mythic elements associated under a dramatic
form. . . . Thus we have the rite of baptism, funeral rites, sacrificial rites.”
Réville, Proléigomeéenes de lV Histoire des Religions (Eng. Transl. by Squire), p. 110.
Rep. 379 A.
ϑ ΓΟ 427 B, Τί οὖν, ἔφη, ἔτι ἂν ἡμῖν λοιπὸν τῆς νομοθεσίας εἴη ; καὶ ἐγὼ εἶπον
ὅτι Ἡμῖν μὲν οὐδέν, τῷ μέντοι ᾿Απόλλωνι τῷ ἐν Δελφοῖς τά τε μέγιστα καὶ
κάλλιστα καὶ πρῶτα τῶν νομοθετημάτων. Τὰ ποῖα ; ἣ δ᾽ ὅς. ἱερῶν τε ἱδρύσεις
καὶ θυσίαι καὶ ἄλλαι θεῶν τε καὶ δαιμόνων καὶ ἡρώων θεραπεῖαι, τελευτησάντων
τε αὖ θῆκαι καὶ ὅσα τοῖς ἐκεῖ δεῖ ὑπηρετοῦντας ἵλεως αὐτοὺς ἔχειν. τὰ γὰρ δὴ
τοιαῦτα οὔτ᾽ ἐπιστάμεθα ἡμεῖς οἰκίζοντές τε πόλιν οὐδενὶ ἄλλῳ πεισόμεθα, ἐὰν
νοῦν ἔχωμεν, οὐδὲ χρησόμεθα ἐξηγητῇ, ἀλλ᾽ ἢ τῷ πατρίῳ’ οὗτος γὰρ δήπου ὁ
θεὸς περὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα πᾶσιν ἀνθρώποις πάτριος ἐξηγητὴς ἐν μέσῳ τῆς γῆς ἐπὶ τοῦ
ὀμφαλοῦ καθήμενος ἐξηγεῖται.
* See infra, pp. 454-5, where it is argued that;Plato’s καλλίπολις is misunder-
stood (as in part by Aristotle) if its constitution is taken to be drawn for an
isolated municipality, and not for an Empire-city (like the antediluvian Athens
of the Atlantis Myth), under which, as civil head (Delphi being the ecclesiastical
head), Hellas should be united against barbarians for the propagation of liberty
and culture in the world.
INTRODUCTION 59
Myth in philosophical literature,’ what place he assigns to
the scientific understanding.
The scientific understanding, which is only a small part,
and a late developed part, of the whole man, as related to his
whole environment, is apt, chiefly because it has the gift of
speech and can explain itself, while our deeper laid faculties
are dumb, to flatter itself with the conceit that it is the
measure of all things—that what is to it inconceivable is
impossible. It cannot conceive the Part ruling the Whole:
therefore it says that the proposition “the World is ruled by
a Personal God” is not true.
Plato has, so far as I can gather, two answers to this
pronouncement of the scientific understanding. The first 15,
“Life would come to naught if we acted as 7 the scientific
‘understanding were right in denying the existence of a
Personal God”; and he trusts to Ritual and Myth (among
other agencies) to help men to feel this. His attitude here is
very like Spinoza’s :—
Deum nullam aliam sui cognitionem ab hominibus per prophetas
petere, quam cognitionem divinae suae justitiae et caritatis, hoc
est, talia Dei attributa, quae homines certa vivendi ratione imitari
possunt ; quod quidem Jeremias expressissimis verbis docet (22.
15, 16). . . . Evangelica doctrina nihil praeter simplicem fidem
continet ; nempe Deo credere eumque revereri, sive, quod idem est,
Deo obedire. . . . Sequitur denique fidem non tam requirere vera,
quam pia dogmata, hoc est, talia, quae animum ad obedientiam
movent. . . . Fidem non tam veritatem, quam pietatem exigere.*
Plato’s other answer goes deeper. It consists in showing
that the “ Whole,” or all-embracing Good, cannot be grasped
scientifically, but must be seen imperfectly in a similitude.°
The logical understanding, as represented by Glaucon, not
satisfied with knowing what the all-embracing Good is Jike,
wishes to know what it 7s—as if it were an object presented
to knowledge. But the Good is not an object presented to
knowledge. It is the condition of knowledge. It is like
1 Or rather, in philosophical conversation ; for the Platonic Dialogues, after
all, with their written discussions and myths, are only offered as models to be
followed in actual conversation—actwal conversation being essential to the
continued life of Philosophy.
2 Spinoza, Tractatus Theologico-politicus, chapters 13 and 14.
3 Rep. 506.
60 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Light which is not one of the things seen, but the condition
of seeing. To suppose that the Whole, or Good, is an object,
among objects, of knowledge, is the fault which Plato, as I
read him, finds with the logical understanding ; and a Platonist
might, I think, be allowed to develop the Master’s criticism as
follows :—The conception of “Whole” or “ Universe” which
the logical understanding professes to have, and manipulates
in its proof of the non-existence of a Personal God, is not a
“conception” at all. The understanding cannot conceive the
Universe as finished Whole. Its “whole” is always also a
“part ” of something indefinitely greater. The argument that
“the Ruler of the Universe is not a Personal God, because the
Part cannot rule the Whole,” juggling, as it does, with this
sham conception—that of “Whole which is not also Part ”—
is inconclusive.
7. PLATO’S TREATMENT OF THE IDEA OF SOUL
Let us now turn to the “Idea of Soul.” The Soul is
represented in the three strictly Eschatological Myths of the
Phaedo, Gorgias, and Republic, and in other Myths not strictly
Eschatological, as a Person created by God, and responsible to
him for acts in which it is a free agent within limits set by
avayxn—responsible to God throughout an existence which
began before its incarnation in this body, and will continue
for ever after the death of this body—an existence in which
it is subject to periodical re-incarnations, alternating with
terms of disembodiment, during which it receives recompense
for the deeds done in the flesh; till at last—if it is not
incorrigible—it is thoroughly purified by penance, and enters
into the peace of a never-ending disembodied state, like that
which it enjoyed in its own peculiar star, before it began the
cycle of incarnations.
Zeller, while admitting that many details in Plato’s
doctrine of the pre-existence and future destiny of the
immortal Soul are mythic, maintains that the doctrine itself,
in its broad outlines, is held by him dogmatically, and
propounded as scientific truth. Pre-existence, recollection,
1 Zeller, Plato, Eng. Transl. pp. 397-413. Thiemann (Die Platonische
Eschatologie in ihrer genetischen Entwickelung, 1892, p. 27) agrees with Zeller.
INTRODUCTION 61
retribution, re-incarnation, final purification, and never-ending
disembodied existence of the purified soul—these, Zeller thinks,
are set forth by Plato as facts which are literally true. Hegel,’
on the other hand, holds that the Platonic doctrine of the
Soul is wholly mythic. I take it from a passage in the
Introduction to the Critique of Pure Reason* that Kant would
think with Zeller against Hegel. Where such authorities
differ one might well remain neutral; but I cannot help
saying that I incline to the view that the bare doctrine of
immortality (not to mention the details of its setting) is
conceived by Plato in Myth, and not dogmatically—or perhaps
I ought to say, conceived eminently in Myth; for the dogmatic
way of conceiving immortality is not formally excluded on
Platonic, as it is on Kantian, principles; although the mere
circumstance that Plato has an alternative way of conceiving
it—the mythological way, not to mention the great attraction
which the mythological way plainly has for him—shows that
he was dissatisfied with the scientific proof of immortality—
entertained a doubt, to say the least, whether “the Soul is
immortal” ought to be regarded as a scientific truth,
Nor need Plato’s doubt surprise us, when we consider the
state of opinion in the Athens of his day. Belief in personal
immortality had become very feeble among a large number of
educated and even half-educated people in Athens.* For the
belief of the ordinary half-educated man, the Attic Orators, in
their frequent references to the cult of the dead, are our best
1 Hegel, Werke, vol. xiv. pp. 207 ff. Couturat (de Platonis Mythis, Paris,
1896, pp. 84-88) agrees with Hegel. Grote (Plato, ii. 190, n. q.) expresses qualified
agreement: ‘‘There is ingenuity,” he says, ‘‘in this view of Hegel, and many
separate expressions of Plato receive light from it ; but it appears to me to refine
away toomuch. Plato had in his own mind and belief both the Soul as a particular
thing, and the Soul as an universal. His language implies sometimes the one,
sometimes the other.” That Coleridge would have endorsed Hegel’s view is clear
from the following passage in Biogr. Lit. ch. 22. Speaking of Wordsworth’s Ode
on the Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood, he
says: ‘‘The Ode was intended for such readers only as had been accustomed to
watch the flux and reflux of their inmost nature, to venture at times into the
twilight realms of consciousness, and to feel a deep interest in modes of inmost
being, to which they know that the attributes of time and space are inapplicable
and alien, but which yet cannot be conveyed, save in symbols of time and space.
For such readers the sense is sufficiently plain, and they will be as little disposed
to charge Mr. Wordsworth with believing the platonic pre-existence in the
ordinary interpretation of the words, as Iam to believe that Plato himself ever
meant or taught it.”
2 See infra, p. 72, where the passage is quoted.
ς 3 See Jowett, The Dialogues of Plato, vol. i, 419 (Introduction to the Phaedo,
12).
62 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
authorities. They seem to take for granted a belief very much
like that which Aristotle makes the basis of his remarks in
Eth. Nic. i. 10 and 11; and, like him, are concerned chiefly
to avoid τὸ λίαν ἄφιλον, statements lkely to wound tender
feeling. “The continued existence of the Soul after death,”
says Rohde,’ “is not questioned by the orators; but its con-
sciousness of what happens in this world is only affirmed with
deliberate uncertainty. Such qualifications as εἴ τίνες τῶν
τετελευτηκότων λάβοιεν τρόπῳ τινὶ τοῦ νῦν γυγνομένου
πράγματος αἴσθησιν are frequent. Apart from the offerings
of his relatives there is little more to bind the deceased to this
world than his fame among survivors. Even in the exalted
language of solemn funeral orations we miss, among the con-
solations offered to the mourners, any reference to a higher
condition—to an eternal life of conscious blessedness attained
to by the famous dead.” Here the Orators are in agreement
with that great master of the art of epitaph-writing, as Rohde’
well describes Simonides, “ who has never a word assigning the
departed to a land of eternal blessedness,” but places their
immortality entirely in the memory of their deeds, which lasts,
and will last, in this world :-—
οὐδὲ τεθνᾶσι θανόντες, ἐπεί σφ᾽ ἀρετὴ καθύπερθεν
ὃ / > > ’ ὃ , > ᾿Αἱὸὃ 3
κυδαίνουσ᾽ ἀνάγει δώματος ἐξ ᾿Αἴδεω.
Similarly Tyrtaeus* had identified ἀθανασία expressly with
κλέος -----
οὐδέ ποτε κλέος ἐσθλὸν ἀπόλλυται οὐδ᾽ ὄνομ᾽ αὐτοῦ,
ἀλλ᾽ ὑπὸ γῆς περ ἐὼν γίγνεται ἀθάνατος---
His body is buried in peace, but his name liveth for evermore.
The Dramatists, too, did much to induce their public
to look at the dead in the same way; for the dramatic
interest required that prominence should be given to the pos-
thumous influence of the dead here rather than to their personal
' Psyche, vol. ii, pp. 202, 203 ; and see his important footnotes to these pages,
in which he gives references to H. Meuss (δεν die Vorstellungen von Dasein nach
dem Tode bei den attischen Rednern, Jahrb. f. Philol., 1889, pp. 801 ff.), Wester-
mann (on Demosth. Lept. 87), and Lehrs (Popul. Au/fs. 329 ff.), for the views
expressed by the Attic Orators concerning the state of the departed,
* Psyche, ii, 204,
3. Simon. Epigr. 99, 3, 4, quoted by Rohde, Psyche, ii. 204, n. 1,
‘ Tyrtaeus, 12, 31 f., quoted by Rohde, Psyche, ii. 201, ἡ, 3
INTRODUCTION 63
condition in another world. When the Dramatists put the
old national legends on the stage, attention was turned, as
Rohde’ points out, from the mere events of the story to the
characters and motives of the hitherto shadowy legendary
personages now presented, for the first time, clearly to sense.
The plots were well known, and not so curiously attended to
by the audience as the characters of the personages now mov-
ing before their eyes. Motives became more important than
events. The Dramatist had to combine the traditional story
of the legend with the motives of agents who must have the
hearts of modern men, or else not be understood by the audi-
ence. Hence the tragic conflict between events and motives.
It is fated that a good man shall do an evil deed. How can
he be responsible for such a deed, and merit the retribution
which the moral sense of the audience would resent if he did
not merit it? This is the tragic ἀπορία which the Dramatists
solved, I would’suggest, by taking the Family, rather than the
Individual, as the moral unit.” The descendant is free because
he is conscious of doing the ancestral, the fated, thing—a
doctrine which Rohde,’ in ascribing especially to Aeschylus,
compares with the Stoic doctrine of συγκατάθεσις. The
human interest of tragedy requires that the penalty for sin
shall be paid here on earth rather than in Hades. This is why
there is so little in the Greek Dramatists about the punish-
ment of the wicked in the other world for their own sins. It
is in this world that sin must be punished if the drama is to
have any human interest. Since the Family, not the Indi-
vidual, is the moral unit, it matters not that the sin punished
here is ancestral. Nay, the tragic effect is heightened when
the children suffer for the sins of their fathers. The dead
fathers live in their children: that is, for aught we can ever
know, the only life they have :—
τοὺς yap θανόντας εἰ θέλεις εὐεργετεῖν
εἴτ᾽ οὖν κακουργεῖν, ἀμφιδεξίως ἔχει
τῷ μήτε χαίρειν μήτε λυπεῖσθαι νεκρούς.
1 Psyche, ii. 225,
2 See Plutarch, de sera numinis vindicta, 16, on the continuity of the Family,
and the justice of punishing children for the sins of fathers.
3 Psyche, ii. 229.
* Cic. de fato, 18, where συγκατάθεσις is rendered by adsensio.
® Aeschylus, frag. 266, quoted by Rohde, Psyche, ii. 232. ‘‘ Under all cireum-
stances,” says Dr. Westcott (Religious Thought in the West, edit. 1891, pp. 91, 92),
θ4 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
If the dead, then, are unconscious or barely conscious, the
living must be punished for the sins of the dead, that the justice
of the Gods may be satisfied.’ Aristotle did little more than
formulate the widely-prevalent opinion supported by Orators
and Dramatists, when he defined the Soul as “ the function of
the body ”——and Plato himself bears witness to the prevalence
of the opinion when he makes Glaucon express surprise on
hearing it suggested by Socrates that the Soul is immortal.’
It had never occurred to Glaucon that the doctrine of the Soul’s
immortality could be taken seriously. Socrates then offers a
“scientific ” proof of its immortality—a proof which he offers,
I would suggest, only or chiefly that he may supersede it by
the Myth of Er.’
So much for considerations which make it reasonable to
suppose that Plato, like many others in the Athens of his
day, felt at least serious doubt as to whether anything could
be known scientifically about the conscious life of the Soul
after death, if he did not actually go the length of holding,
as his disciple Aristotle did, that, as conscious individual,
it perishes with the body whose function it is. That, while
entertaining this serious doubt, Plato did not go so far as
Aristotle, seems to me to be shown by the manner in which
he allows himself to be affected by another class of opinions
“the view of the condition of the Dead, which Aeschylus brings out into the
clearest light in describing the condition of the Guilty, is consistent. The ful-
ness of human life is on earth. The part of man, in all his energy and capacity
for passion and action, is played out here; and when the curtain falls there
remains unbroken rest, or a faint reflection of the past, or suffering wrought by
the ministers of inexorable justice. The beauty and the power of life, the mani-
fold ministers of sense, are gone. They can be regretted, but they cannot be
replaced. Sorrow is possible, but not joy.
‘* However different this teaching may be from that of the Myths of Plato,
and the vague popular belief which they witnessed to and fostered; however
different, again, even from that of Pindar, with which Aeschylus cannot have
been unacquainted, it is pre-eminently Greek. Plato clothed in a Greek dress
the common instincts of humanity ; Aeschylus works out a characteristically
Greek view of life. Thus it is that his doctrine is most clearly Homeric. As a
Greek he feels, like Homer, the nobility of our present powers, the grandeur of
strength and wealth, the manifold delights of our complex being ; and what was
‘ the close-packed urn of ashes which survived the funeral pyre’ compared with
the heroes whom it represented? ‘That ‘ tear-stained dust’ was the witness that
man—the whole man—could not live again. The poet, then, was constrained to
work out a scheme of divine justice upon earth, and this Aeschylus did, though
its record is a strain of sorrow.”
1 On the necessity of satisfying the justice of the Gods, see Rohde, Psyche,
ii. 232.
2 Rep. 608 pv, on which see Rohde, Psyche, ii. 264, 265, and Adam, ad loc,
3 See infra, p. 73.
INTRODUCTION 65
opposed to the agnosticism of his time. I refer to the
opinions associated with the Mysteries and the Orphic revival
throughout Greece, and especially in Athens, The Eleusinian
Mysteries were the great stronghold in Greece of the doctrine
of a future life;’ and the same doctrine was taught, in
definite form, by the Orphic societies which appeared in
Italy and Sicily (in some cases in close connection with
the spread of Pythagoreanism) before the close of the
latter half of the sixth century. As Athens became more
and more the centre of Greek life, the Orphic cult gravitated
thither. We find it represented by Onomacritus at the
Court of the Pisistratids; and, meeting the need of “ personal
religion,” felt especially during the tribulation caused by the
Peloponnesian War and the Great Plague,’ it had, in Plato’s
day, become firmly rooted in the city. The sure hope of
salvation, for themselves and those dear to them, in a future
life, the details of which were minutely described, was held
before the anxious and aftlicted who duly observed the pre-
scribed Orphic rites. The hope was all the surer because
it was made to rest on the consciousness of having one’s self
done something; it was all the surer, too, because the comfort
which it brought was offered, not to selfish, but to sympathetic
feeling—for even ancestors long dead could be aided in their
purgatorial state by the prayers and observances of their
pious descendants.®
1 See Gardner's New Chapters in Greek History, p. 397, and Gardner and
Jevons’ Manual of Greek Antiquities, p. 275.
* See Rohde, Psyche, ii. 105, 106.
% See important note (5), Rohde, Psyche, ii. 128, in which Rep. 364 B, c, E-
365 a is cited—especially 365 a, πείθοντες. . . ὡς dpa λύσεις τε καὶ καθαρμοὶ
ἀδικημάτων διὰ θυσιῶν καὶ παιδιᾶς ἡδονῶν εἰσὶ μὲν ἔτι ζῶσιν, εἰσὶ δὲ καὶ τελευτή-
σασιν, ἃς δὴ τελετὰς καλοῦσιν, ἃ τῶν ἐκεῖ κακῶν ἀπολύουσιν ἡμᾶς, μὴ θύσαντας
δὲ δεινὰ περιμένει---ἃ8 showing that deceased ancestors could be aided by the
prayers and observances of descendants. Although the Orphic Fragm. 208 (ef.
Mullach, Fr. Ph. Gr.i. 188) ὄργια τ᾽ ἐκτελέσουσι, λύσιν προγόνων ἀθεμίστων |
μαιόμενοι, σὺ δὲ τοῖσιν ἔχων κράτος οὕς x’ ἐθέλησθα | λύσεις Ex τε πόνων χαλεπῶν
καὶ ἀπείρονος οἴστρου, quoted by Rohde in the same note, seems to make it quite
clear that dead ancestors could be aided by their descendants, I think that the
passage quoted from Hep. 365 a leaves the matter in doubt; see Paul Tannery in
Rev. de Philol. October 1901, on τελεταί (Orphica, Fr. 221, 227, 228, 254), who
explains the εἰσὶ μὲν ἔτι ζῶσιν, εἰσὶ δὲ καὶ τελευτήσασι of Rep. 365.4 to mean
that the expiatory rites clear the initiated person, some of them for the time of
his earthly life, some of them for his life after death. These latter are ἃς δὴ
τελετὰς καλοῦσι. TedXeral cannot affect any one except the initiated person
himself (to whom they supply directions as to his journey in the other world) :
they cannot clear an ancestor. According to this explanation, the reference in
Rep. 364 c, εἴτε τι ἀδίκημά του γέγονεν αὐτοῦ ἢ προγόνων, is not to ancestors as
affected by the observances of their descendants, but to sin inherited from an
F
66 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Now, what is Plato’s attitude to this Orphic cult? This
question can be answered, in part at least, without difficulty :
—He derived the main doctrine, together with most of the
details, of his Eschatological Myths—the doctrine of the pre-
existence, penance, re-incarnation, and final purification of the
Soul—directly, and through Pindar, from Orphie sources, the
chief of which, if we accept the carefully formed view of
Dieterich, was a popular Orphic Manual, the κατάβασις
εἰς Αἴδου, in which the vicissitudes endured by the immortal
Soul, till it frees itself, by penance, from the Cycle of Births,
were described—a work which lay at the foundation of
Pindar’s theology, was ridiculed by Aristophanes in the Frogs,
was the ultimate source of the Νέκυιαι of Plutarch and Virgil,
and greatly influenced Neo-Platonic doctrine.’
Pindar, a poet and theologian after Plato’s heart, whom
he always quotes with deep respect, was, we may suppose,
brought into contact with the Orphic cult in Sicily, where,
along with the Pythagorean discipline, it had found a con-
genial home.” The difference between Pindar’s outlook, and
that of the Athenian Orators and Dramatists and their
agnostic public, is very striking. In certain places he indeed
speaks of the dead as gone, their earthly fame alone
surviving. But this is not his dominant tone. Not only
have a favoured few—heroes like Amphiaraus—been trans-
lated, by a miracle, “ body and soul,” to immortal homes, but,
ancestor, which a man may cleanse himself of. I do not think, however,
that the reference in the λύσιν προγόνων ἀθεμίστων of the Orphic fragment
quoted by Mullach (i. 188) and Rohde can be to this.
1 See Dieterich, Nekyia, 116-158; and cf. Jevons, Introduction to the
History of Religion, pp. 358, 354: Orpheus had descended into Hades ; hence
came to be regarded as the author of verses descriptive of Hades, which were
current in thiasi, or disseminated by itinerant agyrtae. In Rep. 364 Ε,
βίβλων δὲ ὅμαδον παρέχονται Μυσαίου καὶ ’Opdéws, the reference is, doubtless,
to this and other Orphic guide-books for the use of the dead. These Orphic
books may be compared with the Egyptian Book of the Dead, a guide for the
use of the Ka, or “double” (on which see Budge’s Kgyptian Ideas of the Future
Life, p. 163), which wanders from the body, and may lose its way ; ef. Petrie’s
Egyptian Tales, second series, p 124; see also Eleuwsinia, by le Comte Goblet
d’Alviella (1903), pp. 73 ff, on the connection between Greek and Egyptian
guide-books for the use of the dead. To Dieterich’s list of eschatological
pieces in literature inspired by the Orphic teaching we ought perhaps to add
the Voyage of Odysseus to Hades (Ud. xi.) ; see ν, Wilamowitz-MOollendorff,
Hom, Untersuch. p. 199, who supposes that the passage was put in by
Onomacritus, when Homer was being edited at Athens in the time of the
lyrants.
"2 See Rohde, Psyche, ii. 216, 217; and, for the spread of the Orphic
Religion, Bury, Hist. of Greece, chap. vii, sec. 13.
INTRODUCTION 67
when any ordinary man dies, his Soul survives his body, and
that, not as a poor vanishing shade, but as a responsible
person destined for immortal life. The ψυχή, as Pindar
conceives it, is not the “ totality of the bodily functions,” as
the philosophers and the agnostic Athenian public conceived
it, but the Double which has its home in the body. This
Double comes from the Gods and is immortal :-—
Kal σῶμα μὲν πάντων ἕπεται
θανάτῳ περισθενεῖ, ζωόν
δ᾽ ἔτι λείπεται αἰῶνος εἴδωλον"
’ , 7 » ( ~ 1
τὸ γάρ ἐστι μόνον ἐκ θεῶν.
Being of God, the Soul is necessarily immortal, but is
immersed in the body because of ancient 511.--- παλαιὸν
πένθος.
At the death of its first body, the Soul goes to Hades,
where it is judged and recompensed for the deeds, good or ill,
done in the flesh. But its sin is not wholly purged. It
reappears on earth in a second body, at the death of which
it goes a second time to Hades, where its sin is further
purged. Then it returns to animate a third body on earth
(see Pindar, Ol. 1. 68 ff). Then, if these three lives on
earth, as well as the two periods of sojourn in Hades, have
been spent without fault, and if, when it returns for the third
time to Hades, it lives there without fault, Persephone, in the
ninth year of this third sojourn in Hades, receives the full
tale of satisfaction due for παλαιὸν πένθος, and sends it back
to earth, to be born in the person of a Philosopher or King
(see Pindar, quoted Jfeno, 81 B), who, at his death, becomes
a holy Hero, or Daemon—a finally disembodied spirit: the
Soul has at last got out of the κύκλος yevécewr.” This is
1 Pindar, fr. apud Plut. Consol. ad Apoll. 35.
2 Tam indebted to Rohde (Psyche, ii. 207-217) for the substance of this sketch
of Pindar’s Eschatology. In the last paragraph I have tried to combine the
doctrine of OJ, ii. 68 ff. and the fragment, Men. 813. The life of Philosopher
or King is indeed a bodily life on earth, but it is not one of the three bodily
lives necessary (together with the three sojourns in Hades) to the final purifica-
tion of the Soul. The Soul has been finally purified before it returns to this
fourth and last bodily life which immediately precedes its final disembodiment.
In the case of Souls which do not pass three faultless lives here and in Hades,
the number of re-incarnations would be greater. Pindar’s estimate seems to be
that of the time required in the most favourable circumstances. We may take
it that it is the time promised by the Orphic priests to those whose ritual
observances were most regular. According to Phaedrus, 249 a, however, it
would appear that a Soul must have been incarnate as a Philosopher in three
68 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Pindar’s doctrine—plainly Orphic doctrine, with beauty and
distinction added to it by the genius of the great poet.
Plato’s Eschatological Myths also, like Pindar’s poems,
plainly reproduce the matter of Orphic teaching. [5 it going
too far, when we consider Plato’s reverence for the genius of
Pindar, to suggest that it was Pindar’s form which helped to
recommend to Plato the matter which he reproduces in his
Eschatological Myths—that the poet’s refined treatment of
the Orphic μῦθος helped the philosopher, himself a poet, to
see how that μῦθος might be used to express imaginatively
what indeed demands expression of some kind,—man’s hope
of personal immortality——but cannot, without risk of fatal
injury, be expressed in the language of science? It is Pindar,
as chief among divine seers who is quoted, in the Meno (81),
for the pre-existence, transmigrations, responsibility, and
immortality of the Soul; but the Platonic “Socrates” is care-
ful to say that he does not contend for the literal truth of
the doctrine embodied in Pindar’s myth, but insists on its
practical value in giving us hope and courage as seekers after
knowledge (Meno, 86 B). It is Pindar, again, who is quoted
at the beginning of the Republic (331 B) for that γλυκεῖα
ἐλπίς, Which is visualised in Orphic outlines and colours at
the close of the Dialogue, in the greatest of Plato’s Eschato-
logical Myths. Orphic doctrine, refined by poetic genius for
philosophic use, is the material of which Plato weaves his
Eschatological Myths. And he seems almost to go out of his
way to tell us this. Not only is the Meno Myth introduced
with special mention of the priestly source from which it is
derived (Meno, 81 B), but even brief allusions made elsewhere
to the doctrine contained in it are similarly introduced—as in
the Phaedo, 70 c, where the doctrine of the transmigrations
of the Soul is said to be derived from a παλαιὸς λόγος; in
the Phaedo, 81 A, where it is connected with what is said
κατὰ τῶν μεμνημένων; and in the Laws, 872 Ἐ, where the
successive lives before entering on the disembodied state: see Zeller, Plato,
Eng. Tr. p. 393; and cf. Phaedo, 113 p ff, where five classes of men are
distinguished with respect to their condition after death—on which see Rohde,
Psyche, ii. 275, n. 1. ‘*’Eorpis éxarépwh,” says Prof. Gildersleeve in his note
on Pind. Ol. ii. 75, “would naturally mean six times, ἐστρίς may mean three
times in all. The Soul descends to Hades, then returns to earth, then
descends again for a final probation.” I do not think that this last interpreta-
tion can be accepted,
INTRODUCTION 69
παλαιοὶ ἱερεῖς are referred to for the doctrine that, if a man
kills his mother, he must be born again as a woman who is
killed by her son. But, after all, the most convincing evidence
for the great influence exercised by Orphice doctrine over
Plato is to be found in the way in which he loves to
describe Philosophy itself in terms borrowed from the Orphic
cult and the Mysteries.’ Thus in the Phaedo, 69 ὁ
καὶ κινδυνεύουσι καὶ οἱ τὰς τελετὰς ἡμῖν οὗτοι KaTa-
στήσαντες οὐ φαῦλοι εἶναι, ἀλλὰ τῷ ὄντι πάλαι αἰνίτ-
τεσθαι ὅτι ὃς ἂν ἀμύητος καὶ ἀτέλεστος εἰς “Αιδου ἀφίκηται,
ἐν βορβόρῳ κείσεται, ὁ δὲ κεκαθαρμένος τε καὶ τετελε-
σμένος ἐκεῖσε ἀφικόμενος μετὰ θεῶν οἰκήσει. εἰσὶ γὰρ
δή, φασὶν οἱ περὶ τὰς τελετάς, ναρθηκοφόροι μὲν πολλοί,
βάκχοι δέ τε παῦροι. οὗτοι δ᾽ εἰσὶν κατὰ τὴν ἐμὴν δόξαν
οὐκ ἄλλοι ἣ οἱ πεφιλοσοφηκότες ὀρθῶς. Again, in the
Gorgias, 493 A, borrowing an Orphic phrase, he likens the
body, with its lusts, to a tomb—ro μὲν σῶμά ἐστιν ἡμῖν
o}ma—trom which Wisdom alone can liberate the Soul (ef.
also Cratylus, 400 B); and in the Phaedrus, 250 B, c, he
describes Philosophy—the Soul’s vision of the Eternal Forms
—as a kind of Initiation: κάλλος δὲ τότ᾽ ἣν ἰδεῖν λαμπρόν,
ὅτε σὺν εὐδαίμονι χορῷ μακαρίαν ὄψιν τε καὶ θέαν, ἑπό-
μενοι μετὰ μὲν Διὸς ἡμεῖς, ἄλλοι δὲ μετ᾽ ἄλλου θεῶν, εἶδόν
τε καὶ ἐτελοῦντο τῶν τελετῶν, ἣν θέμις λέγειν μακαριωτά-
τὴν, ἣν ὠργιάζομεν ὁλόκληροι μὲν αὐτοὶ ὄντες καὶ ἀπαθεῖς
κακῶν ὅσα ἡμᾶς ἐν ὑστέρῳ χρόνῳ ὑπέμενεν, ὁλόκληρα δὲ
καὶ ἁπλᾶ καὶ ἀτρεμὴῆ καὶ εὐδαίμονα φάσματα μυούμενοί τε
καὶ ἐποπτεύοντες ἐν αὐγῇ καθαρᾷ, καθαροὶ ὄντες καὶ
ἀσήμαντοι τούτου ὃ νῦν σῶμα περιφέροντες ὀνομάζομεν,
ὀστρέου τρόπον δεδεσμευμένοι. Again, in the Zimaeus, 44 6,
he speaks of the Soul which has neglected the ὀρθὴ τροφὴ
παιδεύσεως as returning, “ uninitiated” and “ without know-
ledge of truth,” into Hades—daredrs καὶ ἀνόητος εἰς “Ardov
πάλιν ἔρχεται; and in the Symposium, 209 E, in Diotima’s
Discourse on épws, the highest Philosophy is described as
Ta τέλεα Kal ἐποπτικά, for the sake of which we seek
initiation in τὰ ἐρωτικά.
᾽ὔ
1 See Rohde, Psyche, ii. 279.
2 See Archer-Hind’s note on Phaedo, 69 c.
* See Couturat, de Plat. Mythis, p. 55.
70 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Let us not think that this is “ mysticism ”——“ the scholas-
ticism of the heart” '—such as we find afterwards in the Neo-
Platonic teaching. On the contrary, it is to be regarded
as evidence of the non-scholastic, concrete view which Plato
takes of Philosophy. Philosophy to Plato is not codia—a
mere system of ascertained truth—but strictly φιλο copia—
ἔρως, child of πόρος and ἀπορία, as the parentage is set forth
in Diotima’s Myth in the Symposium: Philosophy is not what
finally satisfies—or surfeits—the intellect: it is the organic
play of all the human powers and functions—it is Human
Life, equipped for its continual struggle, eager and hopeful,
and successful in proportion to its hope—its hope being
naturally visualised in dreams of a future state. These
dreams the human race will never outgrow,—so the Platonist
holds,—will never ultimately cast aside as untrue; for the
young will believe in them in every generation, and the
weary and bereaved will cherish them, and men of genius—
poets, philosophers, saints—will always rise up to represent
them anew. The Philosophy of an epoch must be largely
judged by the way in which it “represents” them. How
much virtue Plato finds in “ representation ”—philosophical
and poetical—may be gathered from the fact that, while
he attaches the highest value to the Orphic doctrine which
he himself borrows for philosophical use, he ascribes the
worst moral influence to the actual teaching of the Orphic
priests.”
I said that it is reasonable to suppose that Plato was
affected by the agnosticism which prevailed in Athens, and
felt, notwithstanding some “proofs” which he ventured to
offer, serious doubt as to whether even the bare fact of con-
scious immortality is matter of scientific knowledge.* It may
1 “Der Mysticismus ist die Scholastik des Herzens, die Dialektik des
Gefithls,” Goethe, Spriiche in Prosa: Maximen und Reflewionen: Adritte
Abtheilung.
2 Republic, 364%. In Aristoph. Ranae, 159, and Demosth. de Corona, 259 ff.,
the practices of the agyrtae, or itinerant celebrants of initiatory rites, are held
up to ridicule,
3 But see Zeller’s Plato, p. 408 (Eng. Transl.). Zeller holds that the fact of
immortality and future retribution was regarded by Plato as established beyond
doubt ; only details were uncertain. Couturat (de Pl. Myth. p. 112) thinks that
the whole doctrine of immortality in Plato is ‘‘mythic.” Jowett (Introduction
to Phaedo) remarks that in proportion as Plato succeeds in substituting a philo-
sophical for a mythological treatment of the immortality of the Soul, ‘‘ the con-
templation of ideas ‘under the form of eternity’ takes the place of past and
INTRODUCTION ΤΙ
now be added, however, that his sympathy with the personal
religion, in which many took refuge from agnosticism, was
profound, and moved him to deal, in Myth openly borrowed
from the religious teachers, with subjects which Aristotle left
alone. Official (as distinct from personal) religion offers no
safe refuge from agnosticism. Recognising this, Plato took
the matter of his strictly Eschatological Myths almost entirely
from the Orphic teaching, which presented religion as a way
of salvation which all, without distinction of sex or civil status,
simply as human beings, of their own free choice, can enter
upon and pursue.’
future states of existence.” Mr. Adam (Rep. vol. ii. p. 456) says, ‘‘ that soul is
immortal, Plato is firmly convinced; transmigration he regards as probable, to
say the least.”
' See Gardner and Jevons’ Manual of Greek Antiquities, Book iii. ch. iv.
** Orgiastic Cults,” and Jevons’ Jntroduction to the History of Religion, pp. 327-
374, ‘The leading characteristic,” says Dr. Jevons (0.c. p. 339), “of the re-
vival in the sixth century B.c., both in the Semitic area, and as transplanted into
Greece, is a reaction against the gift theory of sacrifice, and a reversion to the
older sacramental conception of the offering and the sacrificial meal as affording
actual communion with the God whose flesh and blood were consumed by his
worshippers. . . . The unifying efficacy (p. 331) of the sacrificial meal made it
possible to form a circle of worshippers. . . . We have the principle of voluntary
religious associations which were open to all. Membership did not depend on
birth, but was constituted by partaking in the divine life and blood of the sacred
animal,” These voluntary associations formed for religious purposes—thiasi or
erani—‘‘ differed (p. 335) from the cult of the national gods in that all—women,
foreigners, slaves—were admitted, not merely members of the State.” In short,
initiatio (uinois) took the place of civitas as the title of admission to religious
privileges.
Prof. Gardner closes the chapter on ‘‘ Orgiastic Cults,” referred to above, with
the following words :—‘‘In several respects the thiasi were precursors of
Christianity, and opened the door by which it entered. If they belonged to a
lower intellectual level than the best religion of Greece, and were full of vulgarity
and imposture, they yet had in them certain elements of progress, and had some-
thing in common with the future as well as the past history of mankind. All
properly Hellenic religion was a tribal thing, belonged to the state and the race,
did not proselytise, nor even admit foreign converts; and so when the barriers
which divided cities were pulled down it sank and decayed. The cultus of
Sabazius or of Cybele was, at least, not tribal: it sought converts among all
ranks, and having found them, placed them on a level before the God. Slaves
and women were admitted to membership and to office. The idea of a common
humanity, scarcely admitted by Greek philosophers before the age of the Stoics,
found a hold among these despised sectaries, who learned to believe that men of
low birth and foreign extraction might be in divine matters superior to the
wealthy and the educated. In return for this great lesson we may pardon them
much folly and much superstition.” Prof. Gardner pursues this subject further
in his Exploratio Evangelica, pp. 325 ἢν, chapter on ‘Christianity and the
Rr ”; see also Grote’s History of Greece, part i. ch. i. (vol. i. 19, 20,
. 1862).
“I
Lo
THE MYTHS OF PLATO
8. SUMMARY OF INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS IN THE FORM
OF A DEFENCE OF PLATO AGAINST A CHARGE BROUGHT
AGAINST HIM BY KANT.
Let me close this Introduction with a summing up of its
meaning, in the form of a defence of Plato against a charge
brought by Kant in a well-known passage.’
The light dove, in free flight cleaving the air and feeling its
resistance, might imagine that in airless space she would fare
better. Even so Plato left the world of sense, because it sets so
narrow limits to the understanding, and ventured beyond, on the
wings of the Ideas, into the empty space of the pure understanding.
He did not see that, with all his effort, he made no way.
Here Kant brings against Plato the charge of “ transcen-
dental use, or rather, misuse, of the Categories of the Under-
standing ”*——of supposing super-sensible objects, Soul, Cosmos,
God, answering to “Ideas” which have no adequate objects
in a possible experience, and then determining these sup-
posed objects by means of conceptions—the Categories —
the application of which ought to be restricted to sensible
objects.
In bringing this charge, Kant seems to me to ignore the
function which Myth performs in the Platonic philosophy.
I submit that the objects which Plato supposes for the
“Transcendental Ideas”*® are imaginatively constructed by
him, not presented as objects capable of determination by
scientific categories—that Plato, by means of the plainly non-
scientific language of Myth, guards against the illusions which
Kant guards against by means of “criticism”; or, to put it
otherwise, that Plato’s employment of Myth, when he deals
with the ideals of Soul, Cosmos, and God—Kant’s three Ideas
of Reason—shows that his attitude is “critical,” not dog-
matic. The part which the Myth of Er plays in the philo-
sophie action of the Republic may be taken as a specimen
of the evidence for this view of Plato’s attitude. There is
nothing in the Republic, to my mind, so significant as the
| Kritik der reinen Vernunft, Einleitung, § 3.
2 See Krit. d. rein. Vern. : die transe, Dialectik, Einleitung, 1.
9. “Tdeas” in Kant’s sense, not the Platonic ἰδέαι.
INTRODUCTION 73
deep sympathy of its ending with the mood of its beginning.
It begins with the Hope of the aged Cephalus—* The sweet
hope which guides the wayward thought of mortal man ;” it
ends with the great Myth in which this Hope is visualised.
As his Hope is suflicient for Cephalus, who retires to his
devotions from the company of the debaters, so is the Repre-
sentation of it—the Vision of EKr—given as sufficient, in the
end, for the debaters themselves. To attempt to rationalise
here—to give speculative reasons for such a Hope, or against
it, would be to forget that it is the foundation of all our
special faculties, including the faculty of scientific explanation;
and that science can neither explain away, nor corroborate, its
own foundation. The attempt which is made in the latter
half of the Tenth Book of the Republic to place the natural
expression of this Hope—man’s belief in the immortality of
the Soul—on a “scientific basis,’—to determine “Soul” by
means of “Categories of the Understanding,’—I regard as
intended by the great philosopher-artist to lead up to the
Myth of Er, and heighten its effect by contrast—to give
the reader of the Republic a vivid sense of the futility of
rationalism in a region where Hope confirms itself by “vision
splendid.” ἢ
Of course, I do not deny that passages may be found in
which the Ideas of Soul, Cosmos, and God are treated by
Plato, without Mythology, as having objects to be determined
under the scientific categories of Cause and Substance—e.g.
in Phaedrus, 245 §, and Phaedo, 105 c,? we seem to have
1 <The argument about immortality (Rep. 608c to 6124),” says R. L.
Nettleship (Philosophical Lectures and Remains, ii. 355), ‘‘ does not seem to be in
any organic connection either with what actually precedes or with what actually
follows it. It would seem that Plato had two plans in his mind as to how to
finish the Repuddic.” I cannot think that Plato had two plans in his mind.
The argument for the immortality of the Soul in Rep. 608 c-612a is formally
so inconclusive that it is impossible to suppose Plato to be serious with it. The
equivocal use of the term Death (θάνατος) in the argument could not have
escaped a logician so acute as Plato. The argument is, that, as Injustice (ἀδικία),
the proper vice (κακία) of the Soul, does not cause ‘‘ Death” (θάνατος), in the
sense of the separation of Soul from body, nothing else can ever cause ‘‘ Death”
(θάνατος), now, however, to be understood in the sense of the annihilation of the
disembodied Soul itself.
2 Grote (Plato, ii. 190) has an interesting note on Phaedo, 105 c,—“ Nemesius,
the Christian bishop of Emesa, declares that the proofs given by Plato of the
immortality of the Soul are knotty and difficult to understand, such as even
adepts in philosophical study can hardly follow. His own belief in it rests upon
inspiration of the Christian Scriptures (Nemesius, de Nat. Homin. c. 2, p. 55,
ed. 1565).”
74 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
serious scientific argument for the immortality of the Soul—
indeed, it would be astonishing if there were no such passages,
for the distinction between Category and Idea, as understood
by Kant, is not explicit in Plato’s mind; but I submit that
such passages fade into insignificance by the side of the great
Myths. We are safe in saying at least that, if sometimes
Plato lapses into a logical treatment of these ideals, or “ Ideas
of Reason,” he is well aware that there is another way of
treating them,—in Myth,—and that he shows a marked pre-
ference for this latter way.
The Platonic Myth, then, effects its purpose—the regula-
tion of Transcendental Feeling for the service of conduct and
science—in two ways which we may profitably distinguish,
while admitting that the distinction between them was not
explicit in Plato's mind: (1) by representing ideals, and (2)
by tracing faculties back to their origins. In following either
of these two ways the Platonic Myth carries us away to
“ Places” and “ Times” which are, indeed, beyond the ken of
sense or science, but yet are felt to be involved in the concrete
“ Here” and “ Now” of ordinary experience.
The order in which I propose to take the Myths scarcely
amounts to an arrangement of them in two classes according
as the object is, either to represent ideals, or trace faculties to
their origins, for most of them do both. I shall begin, how-
ever, with the Myths which are mainly concerned with ideals,
and shall end with those which are mainly concerned with
origins. The former, it may be remarked, answer roughly to
the so-called Eschatological Myths—but only roughly, for
some of them are more properly described as Aetiological; the
latter answer to the Aetiological Myths.
I shall take first the Myths in the Phaedo and Gorgias,
and the Myth of Er in the Repudlic—strictly “ Eschato-
logical” Myths,—which present the Soul as immortal, free
within limits set by ἀνάγκη, and responsible, under God's
government, throughout all its transmigrations.
Next I shall take the Myths—mainly “ Aetiological ”—in
the Politieus, Fourth Book of the Laws, and Protagoras, where
God’s creative agency, and government of the Cosmos and
Man, are broadly treated, and presented as consistent with the
existence of evil.
INTRODUCTION 75
Then I shall go on to the Zimaeus,' in which the three
ideals, or “Ideas of Reason ”’—Soul, Cosmos, and God—are
represented in one vast composition,
Having examined these Myths—all chiefly interesting as
representations of ideals, or “Ideas of Reason”—TI shall
examine three Myths which are chiefly concerned with the
deduction of Categories or Virtues. These are the Myths in
the Phaedrus, Meno, and Symposium. They are mainly con-
cerned with showing how man, as knowing subject and moral
agent, is conditioned by his past. Although the “ Eschato-
logical” outlook, with its hope of future salvation, is by no
means absent from these three Myths, their chief interest les
in the way in which, as “ Aetiological” Myths, they exhibit
the functions of the understanding and moral faculty as cases
of ἀνάμνησις which, quickened by ἔρως, interprets the par-
ticular impressions, and recognises the particular duties, of
the present life, in the light of the remembered vision of the
Eternal Forms once seen in the Supercelestial Place.
Having examined the Myths which set forth the Ideals
and Categories of the Individual, I shall end my review with
an examination of two Myths which set forth respectively the
Ideals and the Categories of a Nation—one of which gives us
the spectacle of a Nation led on by a vision of its future,
while the other shows us how the life of the “social organism ”
is conditioned by its past. These are the Atlantis Myth,
introduced in the Zimaeus and continued in the fragmentary
Critias, and the Myth of the Earth-Born in the Republic. The
Atlantis Myth (intended to complete the account of the Ideal
State given in the Repudlic) is to be regarded as an Eschato-
logical Myth; but it differs from the Eschatological Myths of
the other class which have been examined in representing, not
the future lot of the Individual Soul, but the ideal which a
Nation has before it in this world—the ideal of a united
Hellas, under a New Athens, maintaining civilisation against
the assaults of outer barbarism.
After the Atlantis Myth I shall take the Myth of the_
Earth-Born in the Repudlic, which is an Aetiological Myth,
1 Couturat, de Platonis Mythis (Paris, 1896), p. 32, Timaeus ipse totus
mythicus est ; and Zeller, Plato, p. 160 (Eng. Transl), ‘‘ The whole investiture of
the Timaeus is mythic—the Demiurgus, together with the subordinate gods, and
all the history of the creation of the world.”
76 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
differing from the Aetiological Myths of the other class which
have been examined, in deducing, not the Categories—
faculties and virtues—of the Individual, but the deep-cut
characteristics of the “social organism.” And yet, here
again, while Categories are deduced, an Ideal—that of the
orderly life of the καλλίπολις----ἰΒ represented. Indeed, this
is more or less true of all the Platonic Myths. They all
view man’s present life sub specie aeternitatis—in God;
exhibit it as part of the great plan of Providence—as one
term of a continuous progress to be reviewed at once a parte
ante and a parte post. Especially in the Zimaeus do we
see the “Genesis” and the “ Apocalypse” of the Platonic
Mythology blended in one Vision.
THE PHAEDO MYTH
CONTEXT OF THE ΜΎΤΗ
Iv the Phaedo, the disciple from whom the Dialogue takes
its name tells some Friends what was said and done in the
Prison on the day of the Master’s death.
The conversation was concerning the Immortality of the
Soul, and was continued up to the last hour.
Cebes and Simmias, the chief speakers, brought forward
arguments tending to show that, even granted that the identity
of Learning with Reminiscence is in favour of the Orphic
doctrine of the pre-existence of the Soul, yet its after-existence,
not to mention its immortality, is not proved.
Thereupon Socrates brought in the Doctrine of Eternal
Ideas—a doctrine which the company were already prepared to
accept—and showed, in accordance with it, that Life—and the
Soul is Life—e«cludes Death.
Thus was the Immortality of the Soul proved.
Next came the practical question: How must a man live
that ἐξ may be well with him both in this World and in the
World Eternal ?
lt was then that Socrates, standing in the very presence of
death, was filled with the spirit of prophecy, and made able to
help his friends before he left them :—ZJf, he said, they took to
heart the Myth which he told them, they should know how to
live, and ἐξ would be well with them both now and hereafter
for ever.
When he had finished the telling of the Myth, and had
warned his friends against a too literal interpretation of it,
he gave directions about his family and some other private
matters ; then the Officer came in with the Cup.
77
1010
Ε
108
78 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Phaedo 107 c-114¢
» , , τ re
Αλλὰ τόδε γ᾽, ἔφη, ὦ ἄνδρες, δίκαιον διανοηθῆναι ὅτι,
ν e \ ᾽ / > ’ \ a ᾽ φ \ “
εἴπερ ἡ ψυχὴ ἀθάνατος, ἐπιμελείας δὴ δεῖται οὐχ ὑπὲρ τοῦ
; 7 / > τ rn \ - ᾽ ,’ e \ a“
γρόνου τούτου μόνον, ἐν ᾧ καλοῦμεν TO ζῆν, ἀλλ ὑπὲρ τοῦ
; \ ς , a \ \ “ x \ s
παντός, καὶ ὁ κίνδυνος viv δὴ καὶ δόξειεν ἂν δεινὸς εἶναι,
v , OA > / > \ \ e , A
εἴ Tis αὐτῆς ἀμελήσει. εἰ μὲν yap ἣν ὁ θάνατος τοῦ
παντὸς ἀπαλλαγή, ἕρμαιον ἂν ἣν τοῖς κακοῖς ἀποθανοῦσι
τοῦ τε σώματος ἅμα ἀπηλλάχθαι καὶ τῆς αὐτῶν κακίας
μετὰ τῆς ψυχῆς: νῦν δὲ ἐπειδὴ ἀθάνατος φαίνεται οὖσα,
» , a »μ ᾽ wn ” ’ \ w“ ᾽ \ /
οὐδεμία ἂν εἴη αὐτῇ ἄλλη ἀποφυγὴ κακῶν οὐδὲ σωτηρία
\ κ ς , \ / ,
πλὴν τοῦ ὡς βελτίστην τε καὶ φρονιμωτάτην γενέσθαι.
\ Ν
οὐδὲν γὰρ ἄλλο ἔχουσα εἰς “Αἰδον ἡ ψυχὴ ἔρχεται πλὴν
7 / \ fal ἃ \ \ / /
τῆς παιδείας τε Kal τροφῆς, ἃ δὴ Kal μέγιστα δλέγετα,
ὠφελεῖν ἢ βλάπτειν τὸν τελευτήσαντα εὐθὺς ἐν ἀρχῇ τῆς
an ’ e e /
ἐκεῖσε πορείας. λέγεται δὲ οὕτως, ὡς ἄρα τελευτήσαντα
a ¢ lal /
ἕκαστον ὁ ἑκάστου δαίμων, ὅσπερ ζῶντα εἰλήχει, οὗτος
v ᾽ a ’ / / = »"» \ /
ἄγειν ἐπιχειρεῖ εἰς δή τινα τόπον, of δεῖ τοὺς ξυλλεγέντας
7 > “ , \ ς /
διαδικασαμένους εἰς “ΔΑιδον πορεύεσθαι μετὰ ἡγεμόνος
ἐκείνου, ᾧ δὴ προστέτακται τοὺς ἐνθένδε ἐκεῖσε πορεῦσαι.
τυχόντας δ᾽ ἐκεῖ ὧν δεῖ τυχεῖν καὶ μείναντας ὃν χρὴ
lal / -»"Ἢ
χρόνον ἄλλος δεῦρο πάλιν ἡγεμὼν κομίζει ἐν πολλαῖς
-" / ’
ypovov καὶ μακραῖς περιόδοις. ἔστι δὲ ἄρα ἡ πορεία οὐχ
ὡς ὁ Αἰσχύλου Τήλεφος λέγει’ ἐκεῖνος μὲν γὰρ ἁπλῆν
/ > ’ a
οἷἶμόν φησιν ets “Avdov φέρειν, ἡ ὃ οὔτε ἁπλῆ οὔτε μία
φαίνεταί μοι εἶναι. οὐδὲ γὰρ ἂν ἡγεμόνων ἔδει" οὐ γάρ πού
Δ 7 ᾽ / 5 e rn vv r \ Μμ
τις ἂν διαμάρτοι οὐδαμόσε μιᾶς ὁδοῦ οὔσης. νῦν δὲ ἔοικε
, / \ n e /
σχίσεις τε καὶ περιόδους πολλὰς ἔχειν: ἀπὸ τῶν ὁσίων TE
r /
Kal νομίμων τῶν ἐνθάδε τεκμαιρόμενος λέγω. ἡ μὲν οὖν
᾽ / ‘ ; ‘ A
Koopia τε Kal φρόνιμος ψυχὴ ἕπεταί TE καὶ οὐκ ἀγνοεῖ
τὰ παρόντα' ἡ δὲ ἐπιθυμητικῶς τοῦ σώματος ἔχουσα,
“ ᾿ co - Ἁ ’
ὅπερ ἐν τῷ ἔμπροσθεν εἶπον, περὶ ἐκεῖνο πολὺν χρόνον
» ΄ ;
ἐπτοημένη Kal περὶ τὸν ὁρατὸν τόπον, πολλὰ ἀντιτείνασα
‘ \ ΄σ ’ \ ’ ta \ - 7
καὶ πολλὰ παθοῦσα, βίᾳ καὶ μόγις ὑπὸ τοῦ προστεταγμένου
’ ᾽ ᾿ ΝΜ
δαίμονος οἴχεται ἀγομένη. ἀφικομένην δὲ ὅθιπερ αἱ ἄλλαι,
᾿ ‘ ᾿ / 7 ω ἃ /
τὴν μὲν ἀκάθαρτον καί TL πεποιηκυῖαν τοιοῦτον, ἢ φόνων
ΤῊΝ PHAEDO MYTH 79
TRANSLATION
“Tt is meet, my friends, that we should take thought of
this:—that the Soul, being immortal, standeth in need of
care, not only in regard of the time of this present life, but in
regard of the time without end, and that ’tis now, even to-day,
that the jeopardy is great, if a man will still be careless of his
Soul. Were death riddance of all, ’twould be good luck for the
wicked man to die and be rid of body and soul and his
wickedness ; but inasmuch as the Soul is manifestly immortal,
no other escape from evil hath she nor salvation save this
—that she be perfected in righteousness and wisdom. For
she taketh hence nothing with her to the House of Hades,
save only her instruction and nurture—that, to wit, where-
from they say the greatest profit cometh to the dead or
greatest damage straightway at the beginning of their journey
thither; for when a man dieth, his own Familiar Spirit, which
had gotten him to keep whilst he lived, taketh and leadeth
him to a certain place whither the dead must be gathered
together; whence, after they have received their sentences,
they must journey to the House of Hades with him who hath
been appointed to guide thither those that are here; and
when they have received there the things which are meet for
them, and have sojourned the time determined, another Guide
bringeth them again hither, after many long courses of time.
The way, belike, is not as Aeschylus his Telephus telleth; for
he saith that a single path leadeth to the House of Hades.
But, methinks, if it were single and one, there would be no
need of guides, for no man would go astray. Nay, that it
hath many partings and windings I conclude from the offerings
which men use to make unto the dead.
“The Soul which ordereth herself aright and hath wisdom,
understandeth well her present case,and goeth with her Familiar.
But the Soul which lusteth after the body, having fluttered
about it and the Visible Place for a long while, and having
withstood her appointed Familiar with great strife and pain,
is by him at the last mastered and carried away; and when
she is come to the place where the other Souls are assembled
together, inasmuch as she is impure and hath wrought that
109
80 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
»O/ ς , x Μ ᾽ ΝΜ a ? 7 ἃ
ἀδίκων ἡμμέννν ἢ ἀλλ ἄττα τοιαῦτα εἰργασμένην, ἃ
τούτων ἀδελφά τε καὶ ἀδελφῶν ψυχῶν ἔργα τυγχάνει ὄντα,
/ /
ταύτην μὲν ἅπας φεύγει Te Kal ὑπεκτρέπεται Kal οὔτε
/ » € \ ᾽ / / ᾽ \ \ A
ξυνέμπορος οὔτε ἡγεμὼν ἐθέλει γίγνεσθαι, αὐτὴ δὲ πλανᾶται
/ » ’ δ / , ,
ἐν πάσῃ ἐχομένη ἀπορίᾳ, ἕως ἂν δή τινες χρόνοι γένωνται,
? >, / id , > / / > \ > aA /
ὧν ἐξελθόντων ὑπ᾽ ἀνάγκης φέρεται εἰς τὴν αὐτῇ πρέπουσαν
\ A / \ lal
οἴκησιν ἡ δὲ καθαρῶς τε καὶ μετρίως Tov βίον διεξελθοῦσα,
/ lal ω
καὶ ξυνεμπόρων καὶ ἡγεμόνων θεῶν τυχοῦσα, ὥκησε τὸν
7 U /
αὐτῇ ἑκάστη τόπον προσήκοντα.
lal »" /
Εἰσὶ δὲ πολλοὶ καὶ θαυμαστοὶ τῆς γῆς τόποι, Kal αὐτὴ
" “ » “ / e \ a \ “ ᾽ /
οὔτε οἵα οὔτε ὅση δοξάζεται ὑπὸ τῶν περὶ γῆς εἰωθότων
e / / e r
χέγειν, ὡς ἐγὼ ὑπό Twos πέπεισμαι. Kai ὁ Σιμμίας, Πῶς
a » / s , \ / a a
ταῦτα, ἔφη, λέγεις, ὦ Σώκρατες ; περὶ γάρ τοι τῆς γῆς
\ ae \ \ δι. ἢ > , a ἃ \ /
Kal αὐτὸς πολλὰ δὴ ἀκήκοα, οὐ μέντοι ταῦτα, ἃ σὲ πείθει.
͵, “ἢ ἢ
ἡδέως ἂν οὖν ἀκούσαιμι. ᾿Αλλὰ μέντοι, ὦ Σιμμία, οὐχ ἡ
/ Lal 6
Γλαύκου γέ μοι τέχνη δοκεῖ εἶναι διηγήσασθαι & γ᾽ ἐστίν'
ς / ᾽ a ; f , Ἁ \ \
ὡς μέντοι ἀληθῆ, χαλεπώτερον μοι φαίνεται ἢ κατὰ τὴν
\ > /
Γλαύκου τέχνην, καὶ ἅμα μὲν ἐγὼ ἴσως οὐδ᾽ ἂν οἷός τε
" od 7 ᾽ \ > / e , A id ᾽ ,
εἴην, ἅμα δέ, εἰ Kal ἠπιστάμην, ὁ Bios μοι δοκεῖ ὁ ἐμός,
με ’ lal / cal / > b] 7 \ ,
ὦ Σιμμία, τῷ μήκει τοῦ λόγου οὐκ ἐξαρκεῖν. THY μέντοι
- - / / 3 / -
ἰδέαν τῆς γῆς, οἵαν πέπεισμαι εἶναι, καὶ τοὺς τόπους αὐτῆς
/, / > ” e / an
οὐδέν με κωλύει λέγειν. "AXA, ἔφη ὁ Σιμμίας, καὶ ταῦτα
> - 7 / “ ’ -’ ᾿ ’ ξ΄ π᾿ , >
ἀρκεῖ. ἸΠέπεισμαι τοίνυν, ἣ δ᾽ ὅς, ἐγώ, ὡς πρῶτον μέν, εἰ
» S| / a » a \ ° \ > A 7
ἔστιν ἐν μέσῳ τῷ οὐρανῷ περιφερὴς οὖσα, μηδὲν αὐτῇ δεῖν
/ »/ \ \ \ a / » > 7 -
μήτε ἀέρος πρὸς τὸ μὴ πεσεῖν μὴτε ἄλλης ἀνάγκης μηδεμιᾶς
> \ e \ > » \ v \ e ’
τοιαύτης, ἀλλὰ ικανὴν εἰναι αὑτὴν ἴσχειν τὴν ομοιότητα
- ΄σ lal e “Ὁ 4 Ν - - "»"
τοῦ οὐρανοῦ αὐτοῦ ἑαυτῷ πάντῃ καὶ τῆς γῆς αὐτῆς τὴν
ο > / \ - e ,
ἰσορροπίαν᾽ ἰσόρροπον yap πρᾶγμα ομοίου τινὸς ἐν μέσῳ
n ’ ? / 7
τεθὲν οὐχ ἕξει μᾶλλον οὐδ᾽ ἧττον οὐδαμόσε κλιθῆναι,
΄ ᾽ > ww > \ a A \ / > “ὦν
ὁμοίως δ᾽ ἔχον ἀκλινὲς μενεῖ. πρῶτον μὲν τοίνυν, } 8 ὅς,
΄ \ , “-“ v ΄
τοῦτο πέπεισμαι. Καὶ ὀρθῶς γε, ἔφη ὁ Σιμμίας. “Ere
" , , ° > ’ \ ΙΝ A
τοίνυν, ἔφη, πάμμεγά τι εἶναι αὐτὸ, Kal ἡμᾶς οἰκεῖν τοὺς
Β μέχρι Ἡρακλείων στηλῶν ἀπὸ Φάσιδος ἐν σμικρῷ τινι
μορίῳ, ὥσπερ περὶ τέλμα μύρμηκας ἢ βατράχους, περὶ τὴν
THE PHARDO MYTH 81
which is impure, having shed innocent blood, or done like
deeds which Souls that are her like use to do, her all flee and
eschew, and none will be her companion or guide; wherefore
she wandereth alone in great stress, until certain times have
been accomplished; then is she constrained to go unto the
habitation fit for her. But the Soul which hath lived all her
days in purity and sobriety hath given unto her Gods to be
her companions and guides, and she maketh her habitation in
the place meet for her.
“The Karth hath many and wondrous places, and it is of a
fashion and greatness whereof those who use to tell concerning
the Earth have no true opinion. There is one who hath
persuaded me of this.”
“ Socrates,” quoth Simmias, “ how sayest thou this? for I
also have heard many things concerning the Earth, but not
this of which thou art persuaded. Wherefore I would gladly
hear it.”
“Well, Simmias,” quoth he, “methinks it needeth not the
skill of Glaucus to set forth that which I have heard; but
the truth thereof, which I wot it surpasseth the skill of
Glaucus to find out, haply I should not be able to attain
unto: nay, if I knew it, my life is too far spent, methinks,
for the length of the discourse which should declare it: but
my persuasion as touching the Earth and the places it hath
nothing hindereth me from declaring unto thee.”
“That is enough,” said Simmias.
“Tam persuaded, then,” said he, “ of this first—that if the
Earth, being a globe, is in the middle of the Heaven, it hath
no need of air or any other like constraint to keep it from
falling, but ’tis sufficient to hold it that the Heaven is of one
substance throughout, and that itself is equally balanced: for
that which is itself equally balanced and set in the midst of
that which hath one substance, will have no cause at all of
inclining towards any side, but will continue the same and
remain without inclination. Of this first 1 am persuaded.”
“ And rightly,” said Simmias.
“ Moreover, I am persuaded that the Earth is very great,
and that we who inhabit unto the Pillars of Hercules from
the river Phasis dwell in a small part thereof, like unto ants
or frogs round about a pool, dwelling round this Sea; and
G
110
82 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
“ Mv a
θάλατταν οἰκοῦντας, Kal ἄλλους ἄλλοθι πολλοὺς ἐν πολλοῖς
/ a “- "
τοιούτοις τόποις οἰκεῖν. εἶναι γὰρ πανταχῇ περὶ τὴν γῆν
πολλὰ κοῖλα καὶ παντοδαπὰ καὶ τὰς ἰδέας καὶ τὰ μεγέθη,
\ e \
els ἃ ξυνερρυηκέναι τὸ τε ὕδωρ Kal τὴν ὁμίχλην Kal τὸν
\ lel a ω a
aépa’ αὐτὴν δὲ τὴν γῆν καθαρὰν ἐν καθαρῴ κεῖσθαι τῷ
οὐρανῷ, ἐν ᾧπερ ἔστι τὰ ἄστρα, ὃν δὴ αἰθέρα ὀνομάζειν
\ \ lal \ \ »" >’ , / La \
τοὺς πολλοὺς τῶν περὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα εἰωθότων λέγειν: οὗ δὴ
΄ la > » lal ε΄
ὑποστάθμην ταῦτα εἶναι καὶ ξυρρεῖν ἀεὶ εἰς τὰ κοῖλα τῆς
γῆς. ἡμᾶς οὖν οἰκοῦντας ἐν τοῖς κοίλοις αὐτῆς λεληθέναι
καὶ οἴεσθαι ἄνω ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς οἰκεῖν, ὥσπερ ἂν εἴ τις ἐν μέσῳ
a / fa 7 ϑ δὰ ΝΜ / δὲν a ,
τῷ πυθμένι TOU πελώγους οἰκῶν οἴοιτο τε ἐπὶ τῆς θαλάττης
- “-“ δ ¢ a \
οἰκεῖν καὶ διὰ τοῦ ὕδατος ὁρῶν τὸν ἥλιον Kal τὰ ἄλλα
a \ / e Lal > Ν > \ fal ’
ἄστρα τὴν θάλατταν ἡγοῖτο οὐρανὸν εἶναι, διὰ δὲ βραδυτῆτά
τε καὶ ἀσθένειαν μηδεπώποτε ἐπὶ τὰ ἄκρα τῆς θαλάττης
> / \ e \ y > \ \ > / > an
ἀφυγμένος μηδὲ ἑωρακὼς ein, ἐκδὺς Kal ἀνακύψας ἐκ τῆς
/
θαλάττης εἰς τὸν ἐνθάδε τόπον, ὅσῳ καθαρώτερος καὶ
/ 4 Ἅ “ \ / \ »” > \
καλλίων τυγχάνει ὧν τοῦ Tapa σφίσι, μηδὲ ἄλλου ἀκηκοὼς
- / a a
εἴη TOD ἑωρακότος. ταὐτὸν δὴ τοῦτο καὶ ἡμᾶς πεπονθέναι"
οἰκοῦντας γὰρ ἔν τινι κοίλῳ τῆς γῆς οἴεσθαι ἐπάνω αὐτῆς
οἰκεῖν, καὶ τὸν ἀέρα οὐρανὸν καλεῖν, ὡς διὰ τούτου οὐρανοῦ
» “Ὁ -“" ᾽
ὄντος τὰ ἄστρα χωροῦντα. τὸ δὲ εἶναι τοιοῦτον" ὑπ ἀσθε-
/ \ a > ” 7 ς a a
velas καὶ βραδυτῆτος οὐχ οἵους τε εἶναι ἡμᾶς διεξελθεῖν
\ a > x
ἐπ᾿ ἔσχατον Tov ἀέρα" ἐπεί, εἴ τις αὐτοῦ ἐπ᾽ ἄκρα ἔλθοι ἢ
- / Ὁ
πτηνὸς γενόμενος ἀνάπτοιτο, κατιδεῖν ἂν ἀνακύψαντα, ὥσπερ
᾽ 7 e > nr / > / > / e lal \
ἐνθάδε οἱ ἐκ τῆς θαλάττης ἰχθύες ἀνακύπτοντες ὁρῶσι τὰ
᾽ / ec » \ \ >, ra a \ > ἢ /
ἐνθάδε, οὕτως av Twa Kal τὰ ἐκεῖ κατιδεῖν, καὶ εἰ ἡ φύσις
ς rn a ” «Ὁ
ἱκανὴ εἴη ἀνέχεσθαι θεωροῦσα, γνῶναι ἄν, ὅτι ἐκεῖνός ἐστιν
ὁ ἀληθῶς οὐρανὸς καὶ τὸ ἀληθῶς φῶς καὶ ἡ ὡς ἀληθῶς
κ 0 an e ’ e
γῆ. ἥδε μὲν yap ἡ yh Kal of λίθοι καὶ ἅπας ὁ τόπος ὁ
b) / / > \ \ / “ \ >
ἐνθάδε διεφθαρμένα ἐστὶ καὶ καταβεβρωμένα, ὥσπερ τὰ ἐν
- 7 ig \ rn [cA \ Μ / > \ ”
τῇ θαλάττῃ ὑπὸ τῆς ἅλμης: Kal οὔτε φύεται οὐδὲν ἄξιον
/ , a / ” / ε ” ᾽ - »ὺὼ
λόγου ἐν τῇ θαλάττῃ, οὔτε τέλειον, ὡς ἔπος εἰπεῖν, οὐδέν
ἐστι, σήραγγες δὲ καὶ ἄμμος καὶ πηλὸς ἀμήχανος καὶ
ω “ ᾽ a
βόρβοροί εἰσιν, ὅπου ἂν καὶ γῆ ἢ, Kal πρὸς Ta Tap ἡμῖν
/ / > ᾽ e fal v ᾽ an \ s “~
κάλλη κρίνεσθαι οὐδ᾽ ὁπωστιοῦν ἄξια. ἐκεῖνα δὲ αὖ τῶν
’ ΄ “ \ v / / / ᾽ \
Tap ἡμῖν πολὺ ἂν ἔτι πλέον φανείη διαφέρειν. εἰ yap
- r / ’ lal /
δεῖ καὶ μῦθον λέγειν καλόν, ἄξιον ἀκοῦσαι, ὦ Σιμμία, ola
᾽
7, \ ‘ A 7 ¢ \ a > a ΝΜ Ἰλλλὰ
τυγχάνει τα €7Tb TS γῆς ὕπο Τῷ ουραᾶνῳ οντα. a
THE PHAEDO MYTH 83
that many other men dwell in many other like places; for in
all parts of the Earth are hollows, many, various in shape and
magnitude; into these flow water and thick clouds and air,
and are therein gathered together; but the Earth itself is
lifted up clear in the clear Heaven wherein are the stars.
This Heaven is that which those who use to speak of these
things call the Aether, whose sediment is that collwvies which
is alway being gathered together into the hollows of the
Karth. We, then, who dwell in the hollows, being ignorant,
think that we dwell above on the Karth, even as he who had
his dwelling down at the bottom of the sea would think that
he was on the surface thereof, and beholding through the
water the sun and the stars, would conceit the sea to be
the heaven, inasmuch as, being sluggish and weak, he never
mounted up to the surface of the sea, and put forth his
head, and looked out at our place, and saw how far it
excelleth the things of his own place in purity and beauty,
neither had heard concerning it from another who had seen
it. This is our case: for we, dwelling in a hollow of the
Earth, think that we dwell upon the Earth itself; and the
Air we call Heaven, and think that it is that Heaven wherein
are the courses of the stars: whereas, by reason of weakness
and sluggishness, we cannot go forth out of the Air: but if
a man could journey to the edge thereof, or having gotten
wings could fly up, it would come to pass that even as fishes
here which rise out of the sea do behold the things here, he,
looking out, would behold the things there, and if his
strength could endure the sight thereof, would see that there
are the True Heaven and the True Light and the True Earth.
For the Earth here, with the stones thereof, and the whole
place where we are, is corrupted and eaten away, after the
manner of things in the sea by the salt wherein there is
brought forth nothing either goodly or perfect at all, but only
hollow rocks, and sand, and clay without measure, and miry
sloughs wheresoever there is also earth—things not worthy at
all to be compared with the things here that are fair, albeit
the things beyond do much more excel the things here in beauty.
“Wherefore, if ye desire of me a Tale, hearken to the Tale
of the Things that be beyond upon the Earth under the
Heaven.”
84 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
, » e / 5 > /, ς a / A
μήν, ἔφη ὁ Σιμμίας, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἡμεῖς ye τούτου τοῦ
μύθου ἡδέως ἂν ἀκούσαιμεν.
Λέγεται τοίνυν, ἔφη, ὦ ἑταῖρε, πρῶτον μὲν εἶναι τοιαύτη
ἡ γῆ αὕτη ἰδεῖν, εἴ τις ἄνωθεν θεῷτο, ὥσπερ αἱ δωδεκάσκυτοι
- δι / ὃ ἊΝ / Φ \ \ 3 θ (ὃ
σφαῖραι, ποικίλη, χρώμασι διειλημμένη, ὧν καὶ τὰ ἐνθάδε
σεἶῖναι χρώματα ὥσπερ δείγματα, οἷς δὴ οἱ γραφεῖς κατα-
a a a \ - /
χρῶνται. ἐκεῖ δὲ πᾶσαν τὴν γῆν ἐκ τοιούτων εἶναι, Kal
\
πολὺ ἔτι ἐκ λαμπροτέρων καὶ καθαρωτέρων ἢ τούτων" τὴν
\ \ e a ἣν \ \ \ / \ \
μὲν yap ἁλουργῆ εἶναι καὶ θαυμαστὴν τὸ κάλλος, τὴν δὲ
a \ \ Ὁ \ / x / /
χρυσοειδῆ, τὴν δὲ ὅση λευκὴ γύψου ἢ χιόνος λευκοτέραν,
a », /
καὶ ἐκ τῶν ἄλλων χρωμάτων ξυγκειμένην ὡσαύτως, Kal ἔτι
/ / ω a
πλειόνων Kal καλλιόνων ἢ ὅσα ἡμεῖς ἑωράκαμεν. καὶ yap
> \ fal \ ._& ee , \ >/ Μ
αὐτὰ ταῦτα τὰ κοῖλα αὐτῆς, ὕδατός τε καὶ ἀέρος ἔμπλεα
Ὁ ὄντα, χρώματός τι εἶδος παρέχεσθαι στίλβοντα ἐν τῇ τῶν
»᾿ ’ / [4 “ >? fal 3 \
ἄλλων χρωμάτων ποικιλίᾳ, WOTE EV TL αὑτῆς εἶδος ξυνεχὲς
,ὔ 7 ? \ / ” 7 ΒΥ, ἢ /
ποικίλον φαντάζεσθαι. ἐν δὲ ταύτῃ οὔσῃ τοιαύτῃ ἀνὰ λόγον
\ ἢ ΄ , A aie \ \ ΄,
τὰ φυόμενα φύεσθαι, δένδρα τε καὶ ἄνθη καὶ τοὺς καρπούς"
/ 7 ΝΜ
καὶ av τὰ ὄρη ὡσαύτως καὶ τοὺς λίθους ἔχειν ἀνὰ τὸν
> \ / / / \ \ / \ \
αὐτὸν λόγον THY τε λειότητα Kal τὴν διαφάνειαν Kal τὰ
, Φ δ \ / 3 a
χρώματα καλλίω: ὧν Kat Ta ἐνθάδε λιθίδια εἶναι ταῦτα
7, / / /
Ta ἀγαπώμενα μόρια, σάρδιά τε Kal idomidas καὶ σμαράγ-
ὃ \ / \ a > a δὲ δὲ Ὁ ? -
E ὃὁους καὶ παντὰα Τὰ TOLAUVTA* EKEL Εε OVOEV O TL OV TOLOUTOV
111
Ἵν \ » / / \ b y ΄ 4
εἶναι καὶ ἔτι τούτων καλλίω. τὸ δ᾽ αἴτιον τούτου εἶναι,
" > a e / > \ \ \ > /
ὅτι ἐκεῖνοι of λίθοι εἰσὶ καθαροὶ καὶ οὐ κατεδηδεσμένοι
>O\ / 4 e ? / ς Ν , \
οὐδὲ διεφθαρμένοι ὥσπερ οἱ ἐνθάδε ὑπὸ σηπεδόνος Kai
“ e \ a “- / ἃ \ / \ “
ἅλμης ὑπὸ τῶν δεῦρο ξυνερρυηκότων, ἃ καὶ λίθοις καὶ γῇ
co , a /
καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις ζώοις τε καὶ φυτοῖς αἴσχη τε Kal νόσους
an \ an 7
παρέχει. τὴν δὲ γῆν αὐτὴν κεκοσμῆσθαι τούτοις τε ἅπασι
a / a Μ “ -
καὶ ἔτι χρυσῷ τε καὶ ἀργύρῳ καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις αὖ τοῖς
/ A /
τοιούτοις. ἐκφανῆ yap αὐτὰ πεφυκέναι, ὄντα πολλὰ πλήθει
-" - - \ - 3:
Kal μεγάλα καὶ πολλαχοῦ τῆς γῆς, ὥστε αὐτὴν ἰδεῖν εἶναι
/ - A ᾽ - v
θέαμα εὐδαιμόνων θεατῶν. ζῶα δ᾽ ἐπ᾽ αὐτῆς εἶναι ἄλλα τε
, ’ >’ a
πολλὰ Kal ἀνθρώπους, τοὺς μὲν ἐν μεσογαίᾳ οἰκοῦντας,
\ \ \ \ ID e/ id A \ \ /
τοὺς δὲ περὶ τὸν ἀέρα ὥσπερ ἡμεῖς περὶ τὴν θάλατταν,
ol a >
τοὺς δὲ ἐν νήσοις, ἃς περιρρεῖν τὸν ἀέρα, πρὸς TH ἠπείρῳ
wv 4 δια / " ΄ lal \ -“ \ ΄ / /
οὔσας" Kal ἑνὶ λόγῳ, ὅπερ ἡμῖν τὸ ὕδωρ Kal ἡ θάλαττά
΄ / an a / ἃ \
Β ἐστι πρὸς τὴν ἡμετέραν χρείαν, τοῦτο ἐκεῖ τὸν ἀέρα, ὃ δὲ
‘ea ΄ , 7 > / 4 77s \ \ “ ᾿ “ a
ἡμῖν ὁ ἀήρ, ἐκείνοις τὸν αἰθέρα. τὰς δὲ ὥρας αὐτοῖς κρᾶσιν
THE ΠΑΡῸ MYTH BD
“ Indeed, Socrates,” quoth he, “we would gladly hear this
Tale,”
“The beginning of the Tale, then, is this, my friend,
that the Karth itself, if any one look down on it from
the Heaven, is like unto a ball which is fashioned with twelve
leathern stripes, whereof each hath his own colour. These be
the colours whereof the colours here which limners use are as
samples; but there the whole Karth is of such, yea of far
brighter than these and purer; for one part is purple and of
marvellous beauty, and another part is like gold, and all that
part which is white is whiter than chalk or snow, and in like
manner unto other parts are portioned the other colours—
yea, and colours besides more than all those which we have
seen here and fairer; for even these hollows of the Earth,
being full to the brim of water and air, display a specific colour
wherewith they glisten in the midst of the variety of the other
colours, so that the face of the Earth seemeth, as it were, one
picture of many colours contiguous, without blot.
“According as the Earth is, so also are the things which
grow therein—her trees and flowers and fruits; and so also
are her mountains, and her stones, which are polished and
transparent and of exceeding fair colours; whereof the precious
stones here are fragments—sardian, jasper, smaragdus, and all
such: but in that place there is no stone which is not as these
are and fairer. The reason whereof is this, that the stones
there are pure, and are not eaten away or corrupted as are the
stones here by the rot and salt of that sediment which is
gathered together here, whereof come, unto stones, and earth,
and likewise unto beasts and herbs, deformities and diseases.
Now, the True Earth hath these things, and also gold and
silver and other things like unto them for her ornaments; for
there they are not hidden but manifest, and are in abundance,
and of exceeding greatness, and in many places of that Earth ;
so that to behold it is a sight meet for the eyes of the blessed.
And on that Earth there are beasts of many kinds, and men,
whereof some dwell in the inland parts, and some round about
the Air, as we about the Sea, and some in islands encompassed
by the Air, hard by the mainland; for that which Water is
and the Sea with us for our use, the Air is in that region, and
that which the Air is with us, the Aether is with them.
86 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
ἔχειν τοιαύτηι, ὥστε ἐκείνους ἀνόσους εἶναι καὶ χρόνον τε
ζῆν πολὺ πλείω τῶν ἐνθάδε καὶ ὄψει καὶ ἀκοῇ καὶ
ὀσφρήσει᾽' καὶ πᾶσι τοῖς τοιούτοις ἡμῶν ἀφεστάναι τῇ αὐτῇ
ἀποστάσει, ἧπερ ἀήρ τε ὕδατος ἀφέστηκε καὶ αἰθὴρ ἀέρος
πρὸς καθαρότητα. καὶ δὴ καὶ θεῶν ἕδη " τε καὶ ἱερὰ αὐτοῖς
εἶναι, ἐν οἷς τῷ ὄντι οἰκητὰς θεοὺς εἶναι, καὶ φήμας τε
καὶ μαντείας καὶ αἰσθήσεις τῶν θεῶν καὶ τοιαύτας
/ ,ὔ > a \ > / \ / Ὁ
c ξυνουσίας γίγνεσθαι αὐτοῖς πρὸς αὐτούς" καὶ τὸν γε ἥλιον
D
112
\ / \ ” <b oe συν > A /
Kal σελήνην Kal ἄστρα ὁρᾶσθαι ὑπ᾽ αὐτῶν ola τυγχάνει
»” \ Ἁ ” > ᾽ὔ / > / ἂν
ὄντα, καὶ τὴν ἄλλην εὐδαιμονίαν τούτων ἀκόλουθον εἶναι.
K \ ee \ ὃ} \ a “ / \ \ \
al ὅλην μὲν δὴ THY γῆν οὕτω πεφυκέναι Kal τὰ περὶ
\ a / 7 an ~
τὴν γῆν: τόπους ὃ ἐν αὐτῇ εἶναι κατὰ Ta ἔγκοιλα αὐτῆς
/ \ [τ 4 \ \ / \ >
κύκλῳ περὶ ὅλην πολλούς, τοὺς μὲν βαθυτέρους καὶ ἀναπε-
4 lal x > Ξε ς A > A \ \
πταμένους μᾶλλον ἢ ἐν ᾧ ἡμεῖς οἰκοῦμεν, TOs δὲ βαθυ-
τέρους ὄντας τὸ χάσμα αὐτοὺς ἔλαττον ἔχειν τοῦ Tap
- / ’ ἃ 7 a
ἡμῖν τόπου, ἔστι ὃ ods καὶ βραχυτέρους τῷ βάθει τοῦ
ἐνθάδε εἶναι καὶ πλατυτέρους. τούτους δὲ πάντας ὑπὸ γῆν
> ’ / n 7 Lal \ \ /
εἰς ἀλλήλους συντετρῆσθαί τε πολλαχῇ, καὶ κατὰ στενότερα
\ > / \ / ” Φ \ \ e ta
καὶ εὐρύτερα, καὶ διεξόδους ἔχειν, ἧ πολὺ μὲν ὕδωρ ῥεῖν
> > / > > / [2 > a \ > /
ἐξ ἀλλήλων εἰς ἀλλήλους ὥσπερ ELS κρατῆρας, Kal ἀενάων
ποταμῶν ἀμήχανα μεγέθη ὑπὸ τὴν γῆν καὶ θερμῶν ὑδάτων
lal \ lal
Kal ψυχρῶν, πολὺ δὲ πῦρ Kal πυρὸς μεγάλους ποταμούς,
πολλοὺς δὲ ὑγροῦ πηλοῦ καὶ καθαρωτέρου καὶ βορβορωδε-
7 e a “
στέρου, ὥσπερ ἐν Σικελίᾳ οἱ πρὸ τοῦ ῥύακος πηλοῦ ῥέοντες
¢ , \ ,
ποταμοὶ Kal αὐτὸς ὁ ῥύαξ' ὧν δὴ Kal ἑκάστους τοὺς τόπους
rn / \
πληροῦσθαι, ὧν av ἑκάστοις τύχῃ ἑκάστοτε ἡ περιρροὴ
al rad “
γιγνομένη. ταῦτα δὲ πάντα κινεῖν ἄνω καὶ κάτω ὥσπερ
rn a a ,
αἰώραν τινὰ ἐνοῦσαν ἐν TH γῇ. ἔστι δὲ ἄρα αὕτη ἡ aiwpa
/ - lal a
διὰ φύσιν τοιάνδε τινά. ἕν TL τῶν χασμάτων τῆς γῆς
” /
ἄλλως τε μέγιστον τυγχάνει dv Kal διαμπερὲς τετρημένον
᾽ a a al / \
δι᾿ ὅλης τῆς γῆς, τοῦτο ὅπερ “Ὅμηρος εἶπε, λέγων αὐτὸ
τῆλε par, ἧχι βάθιστον ὑπὸ χθονός ἐστι βέρεθρον,
Δ a Μ a a
ὃ καὶ ἄλλοθι καὶ ἐκεῖνος καὶ ἄλλοι πολλοὶ τῶν ποιητῶν
/ \ ω / /
Τάρταρον κεκλήκασιν. εἰς yap τοῦτο TO χάσμα συρρέουσι
‘ \ / > /
Te πάντες οἱ ποταμοὶ Kal ἐκ τούτου πάλιν ἐκρέουσι"
/ - ᾽ ᾽ a A
γίγνονται δὲ ἕκαστοι τοιοῦτοι, δι’ οἵας ἂν Kal τῆς γῆς
᾽ / A a la) > lal
péwow ἡ δ᾽ αἰτία ἐστὶ τοῦ ἐκρεῖν τε ἐντεῦθεν καὶ εἰσρεῖν
/ \ μ / “ / > y > \ / \
πάντα Ta ῥεύματα, ὅτι πυθμένα οὐκ ἔχει οὐδὲ βάσιν τὸ
| φρονήσει. 2 ἄλση.
THE PHAELDO MYTH 87
Moreover, their seasons are so tempered that disease smiteth
them not at all, and they live far beyond the measure of our
days, and as touching eyesight, and hearing, and wisdom, and
all such parts, are distant from us even as Air is distant from
Water, and Aether is distant from Air in purity. Also they
have groves of the Gods and temples wherein Gods verily are
dwellers; into whose very presence men come, hearing their
voices and their prophecies and seeing them face to face.
Moreover, the sun and moon and stars are seen there as they
are truly; and likewise in all things else the state of these
men is blessed.
“The Earth itself, then, and the parts that encompass the
Karth are thus fashioned. But the Tale also telleth that in
the Earth are many hollow places round about her whole girth,
whereof some are deeper and more open than this place we dwell
in, and some are deeper with a narrower mouth, and some are
shallower and broader: all these are joined together, having
channels bored under the Earth from one to another in many
places, some narrow and some wide, whereby passage is given
so that much water floweth from one into another, as into
bowls, and measureless floods of perennial rivers run under the
Earth, and streams hot and cold; also much fire floweth, and
there are great rivers of fire, and many rivers of running mud,
some clearer, some thicker, even as in Sicily there run before
the fiery flood rivers of mud, and then cometh the fiery flood.
With these floods, therefore, each place is filled according as at
each time the stream floweth round unto each. Now, all these
waters are moved upward and downward by that in the Earth
which swayeth like a swing. And it swayeth after this wise.
There is a cavern in the Earth, which is the greatest of them
all, and, moreover, pierceth right through the whole Earth,
whereof Homer maketh mention, saying, ‘Afar off, where
deepest underground the Pit is digged, which he in other
places, and many of the other poets, call Tartarus. Now, into
this cavern all the rivers flow, and from it flow out again, and
each one becometh such as is that part of the Earth it floweth
through. The cause of all streams flowing out and flowing in
is that this flood hath no bottom or foundation. Wherefore it
119
88 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Ν a a \ ” ᾿
ὑγρὸν τοῦτο. αἰωρεῖται δὴ καὶ κυμαίνει ἄνω καὶ κάτω, καὶ
e \ \ a \ \ Cal
ὁ ἀὴρ Kal TO πνεῦμα TO περὶ αὐτὸ ταὐτὸν ποιεῖ" ξυνέπεται
Lal lal cal e
yap αὐτῷ καὶ ὅταν εἰς TO ἐπέκεινα τῆς γῆς ὁρμήσῃ Kal
-
ὅταν εἰς τὸ ἐπὶ τάδε, καὶ ὥσπερ τῶν ἀναπνεόντων ἀεὶ
A an \ lal -
ἐκπνεῖ τε καὶ ἀναπνεῖ ῥέον τὸ πνεῦμα, οὕτω καὶ ἐκεῖ
/ “A Ὁ Ν lal
ξυναιωρούμενον TO ὑγρῷ TO πνεῦμα δεινούς τινας ἀνέμους
/ /
Kal ἀμηχάνους παρέχεται καὶ εἰσιὸν καὶ ἐξιόν. ὅταν Te οὖν
ς lo / \ > \ / Ν \
ὁρμῆσαν ὑποχωρήσῃ τὸ ὕδωρ εἰς τὸν τόπον τὸν δὴ κάτω
/ - ᾽ a \ / n - -
καλούμενον, τοῖς κατ ἐκεῖνα τὰ ῥεύματα διὰ τῆς γῆς εἰσρεῖ
a ¢ a
τε Kal πληροῖ αὐτὰ ὥσπερ οἱ ἐπαντλοῦντες" ὅταν τε αὖ
lal / lal e a
ἐκεῖθεν μὲν ἀπολίπῃ, δεῦρο δὲ ὁρμήσῃ, τὰ ἐνθάδε πληροῖ
50 \ δὲ x θέ con ὃ \ a > aA \ ὃ \ a
αὖθις, Ta δὲ πληρωθέντα ῥεῖ διὰ τῶν ὀχετῶν καὶ διὰ τῆς
- / /
γῆς, καὶ eis τοὺς τόπους ἕκαστα ἀφικνούμενα, εἰς ods
. al \
ἑκάστους ὁδοποιεῖται, θαλάττας Te Kal λίμνας Kal ποταμοὺς
\ / "»" » 7 / \ κ ~
καὶ κρήνας ποιεῖ. ἐντεῦθεν δὲ πάλιν δυόμενα κατὰ τῆς γῆς,
\ / ’ \ \
Ta μὲν μακροτέρους τόπους περιέλθόντα Kai πλείους, τὰ
\ / \ / / > \ /
δὲ ἐλάττους καὶ βραχυτέρους, πάλιν εἰς τὸν Τάρταρον
» \ \ \ / A > lal \ \
ἐμβάλλει, τὰ μὲν πολὺ κατωτέρω ἢ ἐπηντλεῖτο, τὰ δὲ
,ὔ s a a fo) \
odityov' πάντα δὲ ὑποκάτω εἰσρεῖ τῆς ἐκροῆς. Kal Evia μὲν
\ e an / \ x \ \ /
καταντικρὺ ἡ εἰσρεῖ ἐξέπεσεν, ἔνια δὲ κατὰ TO αὐτὸ μέρος"
» \ \ ἃ 7 / / x Ψ x
ἔστι δὲ καὶ ἃ παντάπασι κύκλῳ περιελθόντα, ἢ ἅπαξ ἢ
\ / / \ \ n ef e Μ
καὶ πλεονάκις περιελιχθέντα περὶ τὴν γῆν ὥσπερ οἱ ὄφεις,
> \ \ \ >
εἰς TO δυνατὸν κάτω καθέντα πάλιν ἐμβάλλει. δυνατὸν ὃ
ἴω / / ”
ἐστὶν ἑκατέρωσε μέχρι τοῦ μέσου καθιέναι, πέρα 8 ov.
» a \ /
ἄναντες yap ἀμφοτέροις τοῖς ῥεύμασι τὸ ἑκατέρωθεν
’ /
γίγνεται μέρος.
\ /
Ta μὲν οὖν δὴ ἄλλα πολλά TE Kal μεγάλα Kal
᾿] Μ /
παντοδαπὰ ῥεύματά ἐστι' τυγχάνει δ᾽ apa ὄντα ἐν τούτοις
- A > \ /
τοῖς πολλοῖς τέτταρ ἄττα ῥεύματα, @Y TO μὲν μέγιστον
\ > , κὰν \ 7, ς 7 > / >
καὶ ἐξωτάτω ῥέον περὶ κύκλῳ ὁ καλούμενος ᾿ῶκεανὸς ἐστι,
’ ,ὔ , » / >
τούτου δὲ καταντικρὺ καὶ ἐναντίως ῥέων ᾿Αχέρων, ὃς δι
᾽ 7 / tn ΝΜ Ν \ \ e Ν a and >
ἐρήμων Te τόπων ῥεῖ ἄλλων καὶ δὴ Kal ὑπὸ γῆν ῥέων εἰς
\ / ᾽ a \ ai 7 ° e A
τὴν λίμνην ἀφικνεῖται τὴν ᾿ΑἈχερουσιάδα, ov αἱ τῶν
a - r /
τετελευτηκότων ψυχαὶ τῶν πολλῶν ἀφικνοῦνται καί τινας
΄ , 7 e \
εἱμαρμένους χρόνους μείνασαι, αἱ μὲν μακροτέρους, ai δὲ
- /
βραχυτέρους, πάλιν ἐκπέμπονται εἰς Tas τῶν ζώων γενέσεις.
\ \
τρίτος δὲ ποταμὸς τούτων κατὰ μέσον ἐκβάλλει, Kal ἐγγὺς
fal - , / fal /
τῆς ἐκβολῆς ἐκπίπτει eis τόπον μέγαν πυρὶ πολλῷ Kaopevor,
THE PHAEDO MYTH 89
swingeth and surgeth up and down, and the air and wind surge
with it; for the wind goeth with it when it rusheth to the
further side of the Earth, and with it returneth hitherward ;
and even as the breath of living creatures is driven forth and
drawn in as a stream continually, so there also the wind,
swinging with the flood, cometh in and goeth out, and causeth
terrible, mighty tempests. Now, when the water rusheth back
into the place “beneath,” as men speak, coming unto the
region of the streams which run through that part of the
Earth, it floweth into them and filleth them, as men fill
reservoirs with pumps; but when it ebbs again from thence
and rusheth hither, it filleth again the streams here, which,
being full, run through their conduits and through the Earth,
coming severally to those places whither they are bound, and
make seas and lakes and rivers and fountains. Thence they
sink under the Earth again, and some, having fetched a longer
compass and some a shorter, fall again into Tartarus, some far
beneath the channel into which they were pumped up, and
some a little way beneath; but all flow into Tartarus again
beneath the places of their outflowing. Some waters there be
that, coming forth out of the Earth at one side thereof, flow
in at the contrary side; and some that go in and come out on
the same side; and some there be that go round the whole
Earth and are wound about it once—yea, perchance, many
times, like serpents. These rivers pour their waters back
into Tartarus as low down as water can fall. Now, it can fall
as far as the centre in each way, but no further: each half of
the Earth 15. ἃ hill against the stream that floweth from the
side of the other half.
“Now there are many great rivers of divers sorts, but
amongst these there are four chiefest: whereof that one which
is greatest, and floweth round the outermost, is that which is
called Ocean, and over against him is Acheron, which floweth
the contrary way, and flowing through desert places and also
under the Earth, cometh to the Acherusian Lake, whither the
Souls of the most part of the dead do come, and having
sojourned there certain appointed times, some longer, some
shorter, are again led forth to be born in the flesh. The
third river issues forth betwixt these, and, near unto the
part whence it issues forth, falleth into a great place burning
90 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
\ , a , a Ε] ‘oA 7 /
καὶ λίμνην ποιεῖ μείζω τῆς παρ᾽ ἡμῖν θαλάττης, ζέουσαν
“ \ a > rn \ lal / \ \
ὕδατος καὶ πηλοῦ: ἐντεῦθεν δὲ χωρεῖ κύκλῳ θολερὸς καὶ
, / \ “~ “ ~
Β πηλώδης, περιελιττόμενος δὲ [TH yn] ἄλλοσέ TE ἀφικνεῖται
> > a >
καὶ παρ᾽ ἔσχατα τῆς ᾿Αχερουσιάδος λίμνης, οὐ ξυμμι-
, A cf \ \ / e \ an
yvupevos τῴ ὕδατι: περιελιχθεὶς δὲ πολλάκις ὑπὸ γῆς
> / / fa) / e > ᾽ \ ἃ
ἐμβάλλει κατωτέρω τοῦ Ταρτάρου. οὗτος δ᾽ ἐστὶν ὃν
> / / 2 \ e « ἢ ᾽
ἐπονομάζουσι ἹἸΠυριφλεγέθοντα, οὗ καὶ οἱ ῥύακες ἀπο-
σπάσματα ἀναφυσῶσιν, ὅπῃ ἂν τύχωσι τῆς γῆς. τούτου δὲ
e / / al /
av καταντικρὺ ὁ τέταρτος ἐκπίπτει εἰς τόπον πρῶτον δεινὸν
A e
τε Kal ἄγριον, ὡς λέγεται, χρῶμα δὲ ἔχοντα ὅλον οἷον ὁ
/ ἃ ὃ} > / ἘΣ 4 \ ‘\ / A
C xvavos, dv δὴ ἐπονομάζουσι Στύγιον, Kal τὴν λίμνην, ἣν
- e \ ᾽ / e ᾽ > \ > A
ποιεῖ ὁ ποταμὸς ἐμβάλλων, Στύγα. ὁ δ᾽ ἐμπεσὼν ἐνταῦθα
\ \ ΄ \ > my ee \ \ a An
καὶ δεινὰς δυνάμεις λαβὼν ἐν τῷ ὕδατι, SVs κατὰ τῆς γῆς,
/ an -
περιελιττόμενος χωρεῖ ἐναντίος τῷ [Ιυριφλεγέθοντι καὶ
> ΠΣ A "A (ὃ wi > ? / ἐ \ δὲ \
ἀπαντᾷ ἐν τῇ Ἀχερουσιάδι λίμνῃ ἐξ ἐναντίας" καὶ οὐδὲ TO
/ e > \ / ? \ \ = /
τούτου ὕδωρ ovdevi μίγνυται, ἀλλὰ Kal οὗτος κύκλῳ
\ > / ᾽ \ / > / Lal
περιελθὼν ἐμβάλλει εἰς τὸν Τάρταρον ἐναντίως τῷ
\
Πυριφλεγέθοντι: ὄνομα δὲ τούτῳ ἐστίν, ὡς οἱ ποιηταὶ
/
λέγουσι, Kwxutos.
/
D Τούτων δὲ οὕτω πεφυκότων, ἐπειδὰν ἀφίκωνται οἱ
/ ’ [
τετελευτηκότες εἰς τὸν τόπον, οἷ ὁ δαίμων ἕκαστον κομίζει,
lal A e ,
πρῶτον μὲν διεδικάσαντο οἵ τε καλῶς καὶ ὁσίως βιώσαντες
\ e / \ \ \ x 4 4 /
καὶ οἱ μή. Kal of μὲν ἂν δόξωσι μέσως βεβιωκέναι,
/ > \ \ > / > / ἃ \ > Lal
πορευθέντες ἐπὶ τὸν ‘Ayépovta, ἀναβάντες ἃ δὴ αὐτοῖς
lal \
ὀχήματά ἐστιν, ἐπὶ τούτων ἀφικνοῦνται εἰς τὴν λίμνην,
- n , / al /
καὶ ἐκεῖ οἰκοῦσί Te Kal καθαιρόμενοι TOV τε ἀδικημάτων
/ a
διδόντες δίκας ἀπολύονται, εἴ τίς τι ἠδίκηκε, τῶν TE
rn “Δλ ᾽
Ε εὐεργεσιῶν τιμὰς φέρονται κατὰ τὴν ἀξίαν ἕκαστος" οἱ ὃ
/ lal
ἂν δόξωσιν ἀνιάτως ἔχειν διὰ τὰ μεγέθη τῶν ἁμαρτημάτων,
/ ,
ἢ ἱεροσυλίας πολλὰς Kal μεγάλας ἢ φόνους ἀδίκους καὶ
/ \ ᾽ / x ΝΜ Ὁ“ a
παρανόμους πολλοὺς ἐξειργασμένοι, ἢ ἄλλα ὅσα τοιαῦτα
/ ω e ᾽
τυγχάνει ὄντα, τούτους δὲ ἡ προσήκουσα μοῖρα ῥίπτει εἰς
\ / “ Μ ᾽ / \ ’ δ ,7
tov Τάρταρον, ὅθεν οὔποτε ἐκβαίνουσιν. οἱ δ᾽ ἂν ἰάσιμα
/ id / \
μέν, μεγάλα δὲ δόξωσιν ἡμαρτηκέναι ἁμαρτήματα, οἷον πρὸς
, ᾽ ~ ’ ’
πατέρα ἢ μητέρα ὑπ᾽ ὀργῆς βίαιόν τι πράξαντες, καί,
lal \ Μ “ A U
114 μεταμέλον αὐτοῖς, τὸν ἄλλον βίον βιῶσιν, ἢ ἀνδροφόνοι
/ a
τοιούτῳ τινὲ ἄλλῳ τρόπῳ γένωνται, τούτους δὲ ἐμπεσεῖν
/ \ \
μὲν eis τὸν Τάρταρον ἀνάγκη, ἐμπεσόντας δὲ αὐτοὺς Kal
la \ rn \ \
ἐνιαυτὸν ἐκεῖ γενομένους ἐκβάλλει TO κῦμα, τοὺς μὲν
ΤῊΝ PHARDO MYTH 91
with much fire, and maketh a lake greater than our Sea,
seething with water and mud; thence it fetcheth a compass,
and going thick and muddy, and winding round the Earth,
cometh at last unto the coasts of the Acherusian Lake, mixing
not with the water thereof. Then after many windings under
the Earth it poureth itself into a lower part of Tartarus,
This is the river which they name Pyriphlegethon, whereof
also the fiery floods which boil up in divers places of the
Karth are derivations, Over against him the fourth river
issues forth, first into a fearful savage place, they tell, which
hath wholly the colour of blue steel; and they call it the
Stygian place, and the Lake which the river maketh with his
flood they call Styx; whereinto this river falling conceiveth
mighty virtues in his water, and afterward sinketh under the
Earth, and windeth round, going contrary to Pyriphlegethon,
and cometh to the Acherusian Lake from the contrary side:
neither doth his water mix with any; but he also goeth
round about, and falleth into Tartarus over against Pyri-
phlegethon. The name of this river, the poets tell, is
Cocytus.
“When the dead are come unto the place whither his
Familiar bringeth each, first are they judged, and according
as they have lived righteous and godly lives, or lived un-
righteously, are they divided. Thereafter all those who are
deemed to have lived indifferently well journey unto Acheron,
and go on board the vessels which are prepared for them, and
so come to the Lake; and abiding there, get themselves
cleansed, and paying the price of their evil deeds, are
acquitted from the guilt thereof; and for their good deeds
receive each the reward that is meet. But whoso are deemed
incurable by reason of the greatness of their sins, robbers of
temples, and those who have oftentimes shed blood unlaw-
fully, or wrought other iniquities that are great, them the
appointed Angel doth cast into Tartarus, and thence they
come not out at all: and whoso are deemed to have com-
mitted sins great but curable, who in wrath have violently
entreated father or mother and have repented them thereof
all the days of their lives thereafter, or who in like manner are
manslayers, they must needs fall into Tartarus, but when they
have been there one year, the surge casts them forth, the
92 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
/ /
ἀνδροφόνους κατὰ τὸν Κωκυτόν, τοὺς δὲ πατραλοίας καὶ
\ ;
μητραλοίας κατὰ τὸν ἸΤ]υριφλεγέθοντα: ἐπειδὰν δὲ φερόμε-
\ / > ca)
vow γένωνται κατὰ τὴν λίμνην τὴν ᾿Αχερουσιάδα, ἐνταῦθα
κ᾿ “ \
βοῶσί te καὶ καλοῦσιν, οἱ μὲν ods ἀπέκτειναν, of δὲ ods
“ / ’ id / \ / 1” »"
Β ὕβρισαν, καλέσαντες δ᾽ ἱκετεύουσι καὶ δέονται ἐᾶσαι σφᾶς
᾽ n > \ / \ / \ ΝᾺ \ 4
ἐκβῆναι εἰς τὴν λίμνην καὶ δέξασθαι, καὶ ἐὰν μὲν πείσωσιν,
/ fal a) /
ἐκβαίνουσί τε καὶ λήγουσι τῶν κακῶν, εἰ δὲ μή, φέρονται
a > \ /
αὖθις eis τὸν Τάρταρον κἀκεῖθεν πάλιν εἰς τοὺς ποταμούς,
fal / /
Kal ταῦτα πάσχοντες οὐ πρότερον παύονται, πρὶν ἂν
4 \ ἢ \ n
πείσωσιν ods ἠδίκησαν: αὕτη yap ἡ δίκη ὑπὸ τῶν
-“ a ε' \ / /
δικαστῶν αὐτοῖς ἐτάχθη. οἱ δὲ δὴ ἂν δόξωσι διαφερόντως
\ rn e an la) /
πρὸς TO ὁσίως βιῶναι, οὗτοί εἰσιν οἱ τῶνδε μὲν τῶν τόπων
‘a > an ΩΝ / / \ > / “
τῶν ἐν τῇ γῇ ἐλευθερούμενοί τε καὶ ἀπαλλαττόμενοι ὥσπερ
\ \ /
c δεσμωτηρίων, ἄνω δὲ εἰς τὴν καθαρὰν οἴκησιν ἀφικνούμενοι
\ a, a el > / / \ > lal e /
καὶ ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς οἰκιζόμενοι. τούτων δὲ αὐτῶν οἱ φιλοσοφίᾳ
lal a \ /
ἱκανῶς καθηράμενοι ἄνευ Te σωμάτων ζῶσι τὸ παράπαν
> / / /
εἰς τὸν ἔπειτα χρόνον, Kal εἰς οἰκήσεις ETL τούτων καλλίους
en ’ al , ς / e \
ἀφικνοῦνται, ἃς οὔτε ῥάδιον δηλῶσαι οὔτε ὁ χρόνος ἱκανὸς
“Ὁ /
ἐν τῴ παρόντι.
’ * , >
Αλλὰ τούτων δὴ ἕνεκα χρὴ ὧν διεληλύθαμεν, ὦ
rn a / al / A /
Σιμμία, πᾶν ποιεῖν, ὥστε ἀρετῆς καὶ φρονήσεως ἐν TO βίῳ
μετασχεῖν: καλὸν γὰρ τὸ ἄθλον καὶ ἡ ἐλπὶς μεγάλη.
THE PHARDO MYTH 93
manslayers by Cocytus, and the slayers of father or mother
by Pyriphlegethon ; and when they are carried down and are
come to the Acherusian Lake, there they cry out aloud unto
those whom they slew or used despitefully, and call upon them
and beseech them with prayers that they will suffer them to
come out into the Lake and will receive them; and if they
prevail, they come out and cease from their torments; but if
they prevail not, they are carried back into Tartarus, and
thence again into the rivers, and they cease not from this
torment till they have prevailed with those whom they have
wronged ; for this was the doom that was appointed of the
Judges unto them. But whosoever are deemed to have been
godly above others in their lives, they are released from these
places in the Earth, and depart from them as from a prison-
house, and come unto the Pure Mansions which are above, and
dwell upon the Earth. And of these whoso have cleansed
themselves throughly by Wisdom live without fleshly bodies
for evermore, and come to yet fairer Mansions, whereof it
is not easy to tell, nor doth the time now suffice for the
telling. Nevertheless, by that which hath been told are we
admonished to do all so that we may lay hold of Righteousness
and Wisdom in this life; for the prize is fair and the hope
is great.”
94 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
OBSERVATIONS ON THE PHAEDO MYTH
I
We may begin by noting that Plato here, as elsewhere,
gives verisimilitude to Myth by making it explain facts, or
what he accepts as facts, and bringing it, as far as possible,
into conformity with the “modern science” of his day. The
fact of the Earth’s rotundity had already been ascertained—
or guessed—in Plato’s day ;' and the geography of the Myth
is made consistent with this fact, as well as with the supposed
“fact” of the Earth’s central position in the Cosmos—a
position which it retains for a sufficient reason, which Plato
sets forth “scientifically.” The Phaedo Myth, starting with
the “scientific truths” of the Earth’s rotundity and central
position, gives a consistent geography, which makes it easy
for the reader to localise the “ Earthly Paradise” and Tartarus,
as real places continuous with the part of the world which
men inhabit. Geography is treated in this Myth, as ancient
history may, or must, be treated according to Plato—romanti-
cally: the general scheme is, as far as possible, true to facts ;
but blanks are filled in by puOoroyia.” The line between
uncritical “ science” and μυθολογία is difficult to draw, and
Plato knows how to turn the difficulty to artistic, and more
than that—to philosophic use. A sophistic use of the difficulty
he happily has no temptation to make, because he holds no
brief obliging him to contend for a large amount of literal
truth in the traditional myths which he borrows.
Again, the Phaedo Myth recommends itself to the “scien-
tific mind” by explaining the origin of hot and cold springs,
voleanic action, winds, and, I think, the tides of the Atlantic
Ocean. The suggestion, too, that gems—objects which have
| See Zeller’s Plato, Engl. Transl. pp. 379, 380.
2 See Republic, 382 p, καὶ ἐν als viv δὴ ἐλέγομεν ταῖς μυθολογίαις, διὰ τὸ μὴ
εἰδέναι ὅπῃ τἀληθὲς ἔχει περὶ τῶν παλαιῶν, ἀφομοιοῦντες τῷ ἀληθεῖ τὸ ψεῦδος ὅτι
μάλιστα οὕτω χρήσιμον ποιοῦμεν ; καὶ μάλα, ἢ δ᾽ bs. Cf. Legg. 682 ff., where the
early history of mankind appears as a myth, founded on fact, but embellished—
πολλῶν τῶν κατ᾽ ἀλήθειαν γιγνομένων ξύν τισι χάρισι Kal Μούσαις ἐφάπτεται
ἑκάστοτε ; and cf, Campbell's Politicus, Introd, p. xxxi.
THE PHAELDO MYTH 95
always been regarded with wonder, as possessing mysterious
virtues—are fragments which have found their way down to
this part of the world from the rocks of the “ Karthly Para-
dise,” is a touch of fine imagination which helps to bring the
two regions—our part of the world and the “ Earthly Para-
dise””"—into physical connection.’ ‘Tartarus and the True
Surface of the Earth, or Earthly Paradise, are indeed real
places to which there are real approaches for the ghostly
travellers from this οἰκουμένη. The care, half playful,
half earnest, which Plato takes to prove this scientifically
from observed effects — volcanoes, tides, precious stones —
has its parallel in the method of Dante and other great
masters of Myth. Skilful use of “modern science” is indeed
one of the marks of the great master. Before referring to
Dante for this, let me first compare Plato’s delicate handling of
“science ” in the Phaedo Myth with the work of one who is cer-
tainly not a great master of Myth—the Cambridge Platonist,
Dr. Henry More; but let me preface his “Myth” with a few
words explanatory of the “science” which serves as foundation
to his “ mythology.”
The Spirit of Nature, according to More and his school,
is an incorporeal substance, without sense, diffused through
the whole universe, exercising plastic power, producing
those phenomena which cannot be explained mechanically.*
This plastic principle in nature explains “sympathetic
cures,” the “astral bodies” (the phrase More borrows
from the Paracelsians) of witches, in which they appear as
hares, cats, weasels (so that if the hare or other animal is
wounded, the witch is found to be similarly wounded—More
was a firm believer in all that, and could give “scientific ”
reasons for his belief), the growth of plants and embryos, and
the instincts of animals, such as the nest-building instinct of
birds, the cocoon-spinning instinct of silk-worms.* The Soul
of man partakes in this plastic principle, and by means of it
constructs for herself a body terrestrial, aerial, or aethereal
(ὦ... celestial), according as the stage of her development has
1 Cf. Conv. iv. 20, p. 323, Oxf. Dante: ‘‘ E cosi é difinita questa nostra Bonta,
la quale in noi similmente discende da somma e spirituale Virti, come virtute in
pietra da corpo nobilissimo celestiale.
2 More’s Immortality of the Soul, book iii. ch. 12.
3 More, o.c. iii. 18.
96 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
brought her into vital relation with the vehicle of earth, air,
or aether. “As we see,” he says,’ “that the perceptive part of
the Soul is vitally affected with that which has no life in it,
so it is reasonable that the plastich part thereof may be so too;
that there may be an Harmony betwixt matter thus and thus
modified, and that Power that we call plastick that is utterly
devoid of all perception, And in this alone consists that which
we call Vital Congruity in the prepared matter either to be
organised or already shaped into the perfect form of an Ani-
mal.” He then lays it down as an “axiome”” that “there
is a Triple Vital Congrwity in the Soul, namely, Aethereal,
Aerial, and Terrestrial”; and proceeds: “That this is the
common opinion of the Platonists, I have above intimated
(Immortality of the Soul, ii. 14). That this opinion is also
true in itself, appears from the foregoing axiome. Of the
Terrestrial Congruity there can be no doubt; and as little can
there be but that at least one of the other two is to be granted,
else the Soul would be released from all vital union with
matter after Death. Wherefore she has a vital aptitude, at
least, to unite with Aire. But Acre is a common receptacle
of bad and good spirits (as the Harth is of all sorts of men
and beasts), nay, indeed, rather of those that are in some sort
or other bad, than of good, as it is upon Karth. But the Soul
of man is capable of very high refinements, even to a condition
purely angelical, whence Reason will judge it fit, and all Anti-
quity has voted it, that the souls of men arrived to such
a due pitch of purification must at last obtain Celestial
vehicles.”
The Soul, by means of her plastic power, moulds the
vehicle—earth, air, or aether—to any form she pleases; but
having been first habituated to the human shape in the terres-
trial body, she naturally moulds the aerial and celestial
vehicles to the same shape. This is why ghosts (in whom
More is a firm believer),® being the Souls of the departed in
their aerial bodies, are easily recognised by their features, when
! More, o.c. ii. 14. 2 More, o.c. iii. 28.
3 See Immortality of the Soul, ii. 16, for the wonderfully well-told story of
Marsilius Ficinus appearing (by arrangement) on the day of his death to his
friend Michael Mereatus. He rides up to Michael’s window on a white
horse, saying, ‘‘ Michael, Michael, vera sunt illa.’’ Michael sends to Florence,
and finds that Marsilius died the same hour his ghost appeared at the
window.
THE ΠΑΡῸ MYTH 97
they return to the scenes of their terrestrial life.’ Now, it
may be asked what the effect of the Final Destruction of the
World by Fire at the Last Day will be on the human souls
which then have still only terrestrial bodies, and on the human
souls and souls of Daemons (or Angels) which have still only
aerial bodies. These bodies, unless saved by a miracle, will be
burnt up, and their souls, having no vehicles, will cease to live
the life of active consciousness.” Therefore, More argues,’ using
Stoical terms, an ἀποκατάστασις and παλυγγενεσία after the
ἀνάστασις and ἐκπύρωσις would not meet their case ; for a
soul whose body had been burnt would have ceased to be con-
scious, and παλυγγενεσία would only bring it back to con-
sciousness a different being. It will require supernatural
means to rescue the souls of good men and Daemons (or
Angels) at the time of the Final Conflagration, or even
1 Cf. More’s Philosophical Poems, p. 260 (ed. 1647) :—
In shape they walk much like to what they bore
Upon the Earth: for that light Orb of Air
Which they inact must yielden evermore
To Phansie’s beck, so when the Souls appear
To their own selves alive as once they were,
So cloath’d and conversant in such a place,
The inward eyes of Phansie thither stear
Their gliding vehicle, that bears the face
Of him that liv’d, that men may reade what Wight it was.
Similarly Dante (Purg. xxv. 91-99) explains the aerial bodies of the souls in
Purgatory :—
E come 1᾿ aer, quand’ ὁ ben piorno,
Per |’ altrui raggio che in sé si riflette,
Di diversi color diventa adorno,
Cosi |’ aer vicin quivi si mette
In quella forma che in lui suggella
Virtualmente |’ alma che ristette :
E simigliante poi alla fiammella
Che segue il foco la ’vunque si muta,
Segue allo spirto sua forma novella.
See also More’s Immortality of the Soul, iii. 1, § 8, p. 149, where it is stated
that the Soul, although she has a marvellous power, by the imperium of her will,
of changing the temper and shape of her aerial vehicle, and of solidifying it so
that it reflects light and becomes visible, she has a much greater power over her
aethereal vehicle. The aethereally embodied soul can temper the solidity of her
vehicle (see Jmmortality of the Soul, p. 233), so as to ascend or descend, and
from one ‘‘ vortex’”’ to another. More looks forward (Defence of the Moral
Cabbala, ch. ii. p. 165) to the Millennium as the time when, instead of occasional
communications between souls terrestrially and aethereally embodied, there will
be close and constant intercourse.
2 ««The very nature of the Soul, as it is a Soul, is an aptitude of informing
a actuating Body.”—More’s Defence of the Moral Cabbaia, ch. ii. p. 167,
ed. 1662.
3 More, Immortality of the Soul, iii. 18.
H
98 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
before that time, when the extinction of the sun—presaged
by his spots recently discovered by one Shiner /—takes place.
Neither terrestrial nor aerial bodies could, without the interven-
tion of a miracle, survive such heat or such cold. But it is only
in this lower part of the universe that such destructive agencies
can operate. The aethereal region will not be affected by
them; and souls which have reached the stage of aethereal
or celestial embodiment will remain unharmed.
So much for the “science” which serves to give plausibility
to the following Myth, as we may well call it :—
The greatest difficulty is to give a rational account whence
the Bad Geni have their food, in their execrable Feasts, so formally
made up into dishes. That the materials of it is a vaporous Aire,
appears as well from the faintness and emptiness of them that
have been entertained at those Feasts, as from their forbidding the
use of Salt at them, it having a virtue of dissolving of all aqueous
substances, as well as hindering their congelation. But how Aire
is moulded up into that form and consistency, it is very hard to
conceive: whether it be done by the mere power of Imagination
upon their own Vehicles, first dabled in some humidities that
are the fittest for their design, which they change into these forms
of Viands, and then withdraw, when they have given them such
a figure, colour, and consistency, with some small touch of such
a sapour or tincture; or whether it be the priviledge of these
Aereal Creatures, by a sharp Desire and keen Imagination, to pierce
the Spirit of Nature, so as to awaken her activity, and engage
her to the compleating in a moment, as it were, the full design of
their own wishes, but in such matter as the Element they are
in is capable of, which is this crude and vaporous Aire; whence
their food must be very dilute and flashie, and rather a mockery
than any solid satisfaction and pleasure.
But those Superiour Daemons, which inhabit that part of the
Aire that no storm nor tempest can reach, need be put to no such
shifts, though they may be as able in them as the other. For in
the tranquillity of those upper Regions, that Promus-Condus of the
Universe, the Spirit of Nature, may silently send forth whole Gardens
and Orchards of most delectable fruits and flowers of an equilibri-
ous ponderosity to the parts of the dire they grow in, to whose
shape and colours the transparency of these Plants may adde
a particular lustre, as we see it is in precious stones. And the
Chymists are never quiet till the heat of their Fancy have calcined
and vitrified the Earth into a crystalline pellucidity, conceiting
that it will then be a very fine thing indeed, and all that then
1 More, Immortality of the Soul, iii. 19.
THE PHARDO MYTH 99
grows out of it: which desirable spectacle they may haply enjoy
in a more perfect manner whenever they are admitted into those
higher Regions of the Aire. For the very Soile then under them
shall be transparent, in which they may trace the very Roots of
the Trees of this Superiour Paradise with their eyes, and if it may
not offend them, see this opake Earth through it, bounding their
sight with such a white faint splendour as is discovered in the
Moon, with that difference of brightness that will arise from the
distinction of Land and Water; and if they will recreate their
palats, may taste of such Fruits as whose natural juice will vie
with their noblest Extractions and Quintessences. For such cer-
tainly will they there find the blood of the Grape, the rubie-
coloured Cherries, and Nectarines.
And if, for the compleating of the pleasantness of these habi-
tations, that they may look less like a silent and dead solitude, they
meet with Birds and Beasts of curious shapes and colours, the single
accents of whose voices are very grateful to the Ear, and the vary-
ing of their notes perfect musical harmony ; they would doe very
kindly to bring us word back of the certainty of these things, and
make this more than a Philosophical Conjecture.
But that there may be Food and Feasting in those higher
Aereal Regions, is less doubted by the Platonists; which makes
Maximus Tyrius call the Soul, when she has left the body, θρέμμα
αἰθέριον ; and the above-cited Oracle of Apollo describes the Felicity
of that Chorus of immortal Lovers he mentions there, from feasting
together with the blessed Genii—
[ ’ » 4
ὅσοις κέαρ ἐν θαλίῃσιν
5Ἀ Jee ,
αἰὲν ἐδφροσύνῃσιν ἰαίνεται.
So that the Nectar and Ambrosia of the Poets may not be a mere
fable. For the Spirit of Nature, which is the immediate Instru-
ment of God, may enrich the fruits of these dereal Paradises with
such liquors, as being received into the bodies of these purer
Daemons, and diffusing it self through their Vehicles, may cause
such grateful motions analogical to our fast, and excite such a
more than ordinary quickness in their minds, and benign chearful-
ness, that it may far transcend the most delicate Refection that
the greatest Epicures could ever invent upon Earth; and that
without all satiety, burdensomeness, it filling them with nothing
but Divine Love, Joy, and Devotion.
It is very difficult to \disentangle the motives which go
to the production of a passage like this. We should say
1 More’s Immortality of the Soul, iii. 9, pp. 183, 184, ed. 1662. The
indebtedness of More’s ‘‘ Myth” to the Platonic, and Stoic mythology of
τὰ περὶ γῆν inhabited by δαίμονες and human souls, is obvious. For further
reference to that mythology see infra, pp. 437 if.
100 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
without hesitation that the writer wished to adorn his
discourse with a myth, if we did not know how uncritical
his “ science” was, and how credulous he was in accepting, as
literally true, things quite as visionary as those here described.
In his Antidote against Atheism he shows how thoroughly he
believes current stories about the doings of witches and ghosts
(see especially Book ui. chap. vii. of that work, for the story of
Anne Bodenham, a witch, who suffered at Salisbury in 1653),
and how valuable he holds these stories to be as evidence for
the immortality of the Soul; indeed, in the Preface to his
Philosophickal Poems he goes the length of expressing the
wish that stories of witchcraft and apparitions “ were publicly
recorded in every parish,’ for “that course continued would
prove one of the best antidotes against that earthly and cold
disease of Sadducisme and Atheisme which may easily grow
upon us, if not prevented, to the hazard of all Religion and
the best kinds of Philosophy.” It is to be noted, however,
that Cudworth and Smith are not so credulous as More.
Cudworth may be said to be a cautious believer in apparitions,
and dwells on the Scripture evidence for demoniacal possession,
and not, like More, on that afforded by modern stories ;*
while Smith, in a sermon preached on an occasion when
credulity seemed to be required,” expresses himself in a
manner which makes one feel that he was in advance of
his age.
There is just one general remark I should like to make
in taking leave of More for the present :—That facility of
scientific explanation is apt to make men indifferent about
the substantiation of the facts, as facts. The facility of
scientific explanation afforded by the hypothesis of “ plastick
power” doubtless made it more easy for More and other
Cambridge Platonists to accept as sufficient the evidence
forthcoming for the actual appearance of ghosts and’ Daemons.
Facility of scientific explanation is a danger which we have to
be on our guard against at the present day too.
The true object of the Phaedo Myth is, indeed, moral and
1 Intellectual System, vol. ii. p. 640 (ed. Mosheim).
2 Discourse 10, Of a Christian's Conflicts with and Conqucsts over Satan,
“delivered in publick at Huntingdon, where one of Queen’s College, in every
year on March 25, preached a Sermon against Witchcraft, Diabolical Contracts,
etc.” ; see Worthington’s Preface to Smith's Select Discowrses.
THE PHALDO MYTH 101
religious, not in any way scientific—its true object is to give
expression to man’s sense of responsibility, which it does in
the form of a vivid history, or spectacle, of the connected life-
stages of an immortal personality. This moral and religious
object, however, is served best, if the history or spectacle,
though carefully presented as a creation of fancy, is not made
too fantastical, but is kept at least consistent with “ modern
science.” ' It is of the greatest importance that the student
of the philosophy of Plato’s Myths should learn to appreciate
the terms of this alliance between Myth and Science ;* and I
do not know how the lesson can be better learnt than from
parallel study of Dante’s Divina Commedia, in which all the
science—moral and physical—of the age is used to give
verisimilitude to the great μῦθος of medieval Christianity.
Fortunately, no better instances of the art with which Dante
presses Science into the service of Myth could be found than
in his treatment of a subject which has special interest for
us here, in connection with the geography and geology of the
Phaedo Myth. This brings me to the second head of obser-
vations which I have to offer on the Phaedo Myth.
II
In this section I wish to draw attention to the parallel
between Plato’s geography of Tartarus and the True Surface
of the Earth, and Dante’s geography of Hell and the Mount
of Purgatory with the Earthly Paradise on its summit.
The parallel is close. On the one hand, the Phaedo Myth
and the Divina Commedia stand entirely alone, so far as
I know, among Eschatological Myths in making Tartarus or
Hell a chasm bored right through the globe of the Earth
(διαμπερὲς τετρημένον δι᾿ ὅλης τῆς γῆς, Phaedo, 1114; Inferno,
XXXlv. swb jin.), with two antipodally placed openings. On
the other hand, while the Phaedo Myth stands alone among
Plato’s Eschatological Myths in describing a lofty terrestrial
region raised, above the elements of water and air, up into the
1 Aristotle’s canon applies—rpoaipeto@ai re δεῖ ἀδύνατα εἰκότα μᾶλλον ἣ
δυνατὰ driéava.—Poet. 1460 a 30.
2 In this connection the reader should turn to Prof. Dill’s illuminating
remarks on the mixture of science with devotional allegory and myth in the
Commentary of Macrobius on Cicero’s Dream of Scipio: Roman Society in the
Last Century of the Western Empire, Book i. ch. iv. pp. 88-90, ed. 1.
102 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
element of fire or aether, Dante also, in agreement with a
common medieval belief, places the Earthly Paradise on the
top of a mountain—his own Mount of Purgatory—which
rises up into the element of fire.
The “ Earthly Paradise” of the Phaedo Myth probably
owes a good deal to the Homeric Olympus; and the Earthly
Paradise of medieval belief and of the Divina Commedia may
have derived at least its altitude from the same source. But
the description of Tartarus as bored night through the Earth,
unique in Greek mythology, in no way countenanced by Virgil,
and yet reappearing in the Jnferno, which is so largely modelled
on the Sixth Book of the Aeneid—this is surely a strange
coincidence. The Z%maeus (in the version of Chalcidius) was,
it would appear, the only work of Plato which Dante knew
directly." There is no evidence whatever—unless this coin-
cidence be regarded as evidence—that he was acquainted with
the Latin version of the Phaedo which was made in the
twelfth century.” It is possible, however, but I hardly think
likely, that the passage in the Jeteorologica (11. 2, 355 b,
92 ff.), in which the Phaedo description of Tartarus is referred
to, may have given Dante the idea of an antipodal exit from
Hell; although it is to be noted that Aristotle, in criticising
the hydrostatics of the Phaedo Myth, curiously enough omits
to quote, or paraphrase, Plato’s emphatic διαμπερὲς τετρημένον;
and 8. Thomas does not make good the omission in his com-
mentary on the Aristotelian passage. I do not think that
any one reading the Aristotelian passage, without having read
the Phaedo, would easily gather that the Tartarus of the
Phaedo is bored right through the Earth. Aristotle is
concerned to show that the theory of a central ai@pa, or
oscillation, gives a wrong explanation of the origin of seas
and rivers; and, move suo, he is careless in his description of
the theory to which he objects. Although the hydrostatics
of the Quaestio de Aqua et Terra* agree in the main with
1 See Moore's Studies in Dante, first series, p. 156, and Toynbee’s Dante
Dictionary, s.v. ‘‘ Platone.”
2 See Rashdall’s Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages, i. 37, ii. 744,
and Immisch, Philologische Studien zu Plato, pp. 33, 34, Henricus Aristippus
(Archdeacon of Catania) translated the Phaedo and Meno in 1156. There is a
MS. of his translation in Corpus Christi College, Oxford (243), written in
1423 ; see Coxe, ii. 100.
3 With regard to the authenticity of this treatise see Moore’s Studies in
Dante, second series, pp. 303 ff.
THE ΠΑΡ MYTH 103
those of the Meteorologica, the Inferno is not influenced
by the Meteorologica, The Inferno follows the traditional
mythology in supposing subterranean rivers, and, indeed,
agrees with the account of these rivers given in the Phaedo,
to the extent, at least, of regarding them as forming a single
system of waters connected somehow with waters on the
surface of the Earth. Dante may have been helped to this
view by Brunetto Latini, who speaks, very much in the same
way as Plato does, of waters circulating in channels through
the Earth, like blood through the veins of the body, and
coming out in springs.’ But mark how the Poet uses these
mere hydrostatics—how his genius transforms the physical
relation between the living world and Tartarus into a moral
relation! It is the ¢ears of this world that flow in the rivers
of Dante’s Hell.’
Let me close this passage on Plato’s Tartarus and Dante's
Hell with the remark that an antipodal exit from Hell, near
the Mount of Purgatory, is almost necessary to the movement
of the Commedia. If such an exit—whether derived directly
or indirectly from the Phaedo, or obtained from some other
source—did not already exist among Dante’s mythological
data, he would practically have been obliged to invent it, and
offer some explanation of it, such as that which he actually
offers—the Fall of Lucifer (Jnf. xxxiv.).
Now to pass on to the parallel between Plato’s “True
Surface of the Earth” and Dante’s Earthly Paradise on the
top of the Mount of Purgatory :—Dante’s Mount of Purga-
tory is definitely a part of this Earth. It is an island,
antipodal to Jerusalem, in the middle of the ocean which
covers the southern hemisphere. This island rises up, in a
series of circular terraces, into one lofty height on which is
situated the Earthly Paradise,—where our first parents
were created,—where the souls which have been purified by
1 See Schmidt, iiber Dantes Stellung in der Geschichte der Kosmographie,
I. Teil, de Aqua et Terra (1876), p. 7.
2 Inferno, xiv. Dante probably profited by the crude fancy of predecessors
in the matter of the contents of the infernal rivers ; see Cary on Jnf. xii. It
is perhaps worth noticing here that Dante’s River of Blood (Jn/. xii.) has its
parallel in the Scottish ballad of Thomas the Rhymer :—
It was mirk mirk night and there was nae stern-light,
And they waded through red bluid to the knee ;
For a’ the bluid that’s shed on earth
Rins through the springs οὐ that countrie (i.e. Elf-land).
104 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
penance during their ascent of the Mount are gathered
together, before they drink the waters of Lethe and Eunoé,
the twin streams of this Paradise, and are translated into the
Heavenly Paradise. That Purgatory is a real place, on the
surface of this globe, which an adventurous voyager from our
hemisphere might possibly reach νηὶ μελαίνῃ, is suggested
with consummate art in the Jnferno, Canto xxvi., where
Ulysses describes his last voyage—how, with Ceuta on his
left and Seville on his right, he sailed out through the Straits,
and south over the ocean for five months, till the stars of the
northern hemisphere sank beneath the horizon, and new stars
appeared in the sky, and he sighted
A Mountain dim, loftiest, methought,
Of all I e’er beheld 1—
and then the storm burst which overwhelmed him.
Dante’s Mount of Purgatory—for that was the land
which Ulysses sighted—is identical with the lofty mountain
on the top of which medieval belief placed the Earthly Para-
dise; but Dante apparently drew entirely on his own im-
agination when he localised Purgatory on its slopes.” This
Mountain of the Earthly Paradise rises, according to the
medieval belief, as high as the Lunar Sphere *—z.. its upper
parts are above the air, in the aether or fire, like Plato’s True
Surface of the Earth. Hence, as S. Thomas explains, the
Earthly Paradise was not reached by the flood* §. Thomas
further remarks that Enoch and Elias are said to be now
in it; also, that it is said to be sub aequinoctiali circulo; but
he will not vouch for its exact position, only expressing his
belief that it must be in a “ temperate clime.”® The Arabians,
whose geographical treatises, and epitomes of the Greek
geographers, Dante knew in Latin versions,° spoke of a great
1 Cary’s translation.
2 See Scartazzini (Companion to Dante, Butler’s Transl. p. 419). ‘‘ Purga-
tory, so far as form and position go, is a creation quite of the poet’s own.” It
may, I think, have relationship to the “steep hill of virtue” which the Stoics
climbed ; see Lucian, Vera Hist. ii. 18—no Stoics were to be seen in the For-
tunate Island, because they were climbing this hill: τῶν δὲ Στωικῶν οὐδεὶς
maphv: ἔτι yap ἐλέγοντο ἀναβαίνειν τὸν τῆς ἀρετῆς ὄρθιον λόφον.
3 See 5, Thom. Aqui. Swmma, i. 102, 2.
+ Of. Schmidt, Cosmographie des Dante, p. 23.
5 Summa, i. 102, 2.
® See Lelewel, Histoire de la Géographie, i. \xxxv., and Toynbee’s Dante
Dictionary, arts. ‘‘ Alfergano”’ and ‘* Tolommeo!,”
THE PHABRDO MYTH 105
mountain in the far south. It is called Mons Caldicus by
Albertus,’ and Mons Malcus by Roger Bacon, who places it in
India? The view that this mountain, identified by the
Christian Schoolmen with the seat of the Earthly Paradise,
is an island antipodal to Jerusalem in the middle of the
Southern Ocean (Purg. iv. 70), was due entirely, it would
seem," to Dante’s own “ scientific imagination ” or “ mythopoeic
faculty.” According to the doctrine of Orosius, generally
accepted in Dante’s time, there is no land at all in the
southern hemisphere. If there were land, its inhabitants
would be cut off from those of the orbis notus—the unity and
continuity of the human race, postulated by the command,
“Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every
creature,” would not exist. The ideal of one Church and one
Empire (and one Aristotelian Philosophy, as Dante adds in
the Convivio, iv. 6) requires the geographical condition of one
continuous οἰκουμένη. Dante’s antipodal island, however,
being peopled only by the souls of the departed, is in no way
inconsistent with the teleological geography of Orosius—
indeed, is made, with consummate art, to corroborate it; for
the cause which produced the solitary island of Purgatory in
1 Meteor, ii. 2.7. Cf. Schmidt, Cosm. d. Dante, p. 23.
2 Op. Maj. pp. 192, 195, ed. prince. Jebb, London.
3 See Scartazzini’s Companion to Dante, p. 419, Butler’s Eng. Transl. It is,
however, an island in the Hxeter Book (an Anthology of Anglo-Saxon Poetry
given to the Library of Exeter Cathedral by Leofric, first Bishop of Exeter,
1050-1071): see Exeter Book, edited by Israel Gollancz for the Early English
Text Society, 1895, poem on the ‘‘ Pheenix,” pp. 200 ff: ‘‘ The Earthly Paradise
is in eastern parts. . . itis all plain. . . isanisland. . . . There the door of
Heaven's Realm is oft-times opened. . . . It is green and flowery. There is no
rain there, nor snow nor frost nor fire. It is neither too hot nor too cold. The
plain (which is quite smooth) is higher than any mountain by 12 fathom
measures. It escaped the flood. . . . It shall abide perennially blooming till
the Day of Judgment. Water falls not there, but rises from the turf in the
midst of the forest each month of the year, and irrigates the grove [we are
reminded of Dante’s Lethe and Eunoé}. The beautiful grove is inhabited by
the Phoenix ’—which the Poet then goes on to describe.
It ought to be mentioned that Claudian (Jdyll. i. 1. Phoenix) makes “the
Earthly Paradise ” an island :—
Oceani summo circumfluus aequore lucus
Trans Indos Eurumque viret. ...
Mr. Toynbee, however, thinks it doubtful whether Dante had any acquaintance
with Claudian (see Dante Dict. art. ‘‘Claudianus”). Benvenuto da Imola, in his
Commentary on the Divina Commedia, quotes Claudian several times, describing
him, erroneously, as a Florentine ; see Mr. Toynbee’s Index of Authors quoted by
Benv. da Imola in his Commentary on the D. C. (Annual Report of the Dante
Society, Cambridge, Mass., 1901).
4 Orosius, Hist. adv. paganas, i. 2, §§ 87-89 ; vi. 22,§1; vii. 1; vii. 3,4; and
ef. Moore’s Studies in Dante, first series, pp. 279 ff.
106 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
the southern hemisphere, simultaneously produced the one
οἰκουμένη οἵ the northern hemisphere. Lucifer fell on the
southern hemisphere (/nf. xxxiv.), and the shock of his fall
submerged the land which originally existed there, and caused
an equivalent amount of land in the northern hemisphere
to bulge up above the sea; the Mount of Purgatory, the only
land now in the southern hemisphere, having been formed
by the material extruded, as Lucifer, with the force of his fall,
bored a passage down to the centre of the Earth. Thus does
Dante give verisimilitude to his mythology of “the abhorred
worm that boreth through the world” (/nf. xxxiv. 108), by
making it explain a physical fact, or what the science of his
day accepted as a fact; and, at the same time, by means of
the explanation, he brings the fact—so important for the
doctrine of one Church and one Empire—into clear con-
nection with a vast system of belief already accepted. When
the rebel angels—about a tenth part of the original number
created—were lost to Heaven, the human race was created
to make good the loss." The descent of the Prince of these
rebel angels produced, at one blow, Hell, and Purgatory, and
the One Continent which is the condition of the ecclesiastical
and civil unity of the human race. All hangs together clearly.
“Science” recommends Myth, and Myth “Science,” in one
consistent whole.
Again, in Purg. xxviii., the distribution of plants in
our hemisphere, from a common centre of creation, is explained
in such a way as to make the existence of an Earthly Para-
dise appear the only hypothesis consistent with “science.”
The wind which Dante notices with wonder among the trees
of the Earthly Paradise is caused, he is told, by the rotation,
from east to west, of the primwm mobile, or crystalline sphere
1 See Convivio, ii. 6: ‘‘ Dico che di tutti questi Ordini si perderono alquanti
tosto che furono creati, forse in numero della decima parte ; alla quale restaurare
fu 1᾿ umana natura poi creata. So also Spenser (An Hymn of Heavenly Love) :—
But that eternal Fount of Love and Grace,
Still showing forth his goodness unto all,
Now seeing left a waste and empty place
In his wide Palace, through those Angels’ Fall,
Cast to supply the same, and to enstall
A new unknowen Colonie therein,
Whose Root from Earth’s base Ground-work should begin.
In this Hymn the whole drama worked out by Milton in Paradise Lost and
Paradise Regained is indicated in outline.
THE ΜΚ ὼ MYTH 107
—the ninth sphere counted from that of the moon. The
rotation of the primum mobile carries round with it the pure
air or aether in which the Earthly Paradise is bathed; and
this aether is impregnated with the seeds of the trees of the
Earthly Paradise, and carries them round to our hemisphere,
where they germinate according as they find soils and climates
suitable to their various virtues. Here we have a “ Myth,’
in which Faith, Fancy, and Science are blended in the true
Platonic manner,
The close parallel between Plato’s “True Surface of the
Karth” and Dante’s Earthly Paradise has been made evident,
I trust, by what I have said about the latter. Plato’s “ True
Surface of the Earth” is a real place in this world, physically
connected with the region which we inhabit. It is distin-
guished from our region essentially by its altitude. With its
foundation, like that of Dante’s Island of Purgatory, bathed
in the crass elements of water and air, it rises up into the
region occupied by the element of fire or aether—a region
which, we must remember, belonged as definitely to the
domain of “science” for Plato and Dante as the regions of
water and air, of which men have direct experience. Given
a sufficient altitude, aether will take the place of air, and
beneath aether, air will be as water. This is “scientifically ”
true. It is also in accordance with “science” to believe that
the inhabitants of the aethereal altitudes live longer, more
vigorously, and more happily, than we, poor frogs, do, down
in the mists beside the waters of our hollow. A place has
been found—or as good as found—by “science,” where the
souls of the virtuous may live in the enjoyment of the rewards
of their virtue, and in preparation for an even more blessed
existence elsewhere. There can be no doubt, I think, that
the lofty terrestrial Paradise of the Phaedo Myth answers to
the “Islands of the Blessed” in the Gorgias Myth, to the τὰ
περὶ γῆν of the Phaedrus Myth, and to the “heaven” or
οὐρανός of the Myth of Er, from which the souls of the
virtuous, who have not yet completed their purgatorial course,
return, after a thousand years’ sojourn, to the “meadow,” in
order to journey thence to the plain of Lethe, and drink the
1 Phaedrus, 257 A; and cf. 248 π-249., where τοὐρανοῦ τις τόπος seems to
answer to τὰ περὶ γῆν, as contrasted with τὰ ὑπὸ γῆς in 257 A.
108 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
water of the river, and be born again in terrestrial bodies.
The “Islands of the Blessed” were doubtless pictured by
Hesiod and Pindar as islands in the ordinary sense, sur-
rounded by water, somewhere out in the Western Ocean ;?*
Plato, in the Phaedo, is singular in making them aerial, not
oceanic. With an art that is charming, he not only gives
direct “scientific” reasons for believing in the existence of his
aethereal altitudes of the Earth’s surface (the configuration of
the Earth in its envelopes of air and aether—deep hollows of
its surface being compensated for by lofty heights—naturally
produces such blessed altitudes), but he also knows how to
add the authority of the poets to the reasons of “science,”
by making his description of these altitudes recall, not only
the Homeric Olympus,’ but the Islands of the Blessed as
described by Hesiod and Pindar.
The original conception, in Greek as in Celtic ὅ mythology,
of Islands of the Blessed was that of an Elysium or Paradise,
somewhere on the surface of the Earth, inhabited by gods, in
which also certain elect heroes, who have been translated
thither, enjoy in the flesh eternal felicity. This is the con-
ception which meets us in Homer,* Hesiod, Pindar, and the
Hymn to Harmodius and Aristogeiton. But in course of
time this original conception was modified in the interest of
morality and religion, especially the religion of the Orphic
cult, and the Islands of the Blessed came to be regarded as
the abode of the sowls of the virtuous generally. This view
is acquiesced in in the Gorgias, where Tartarus indeed appears as
a Purgatory or place of temporary sojourn for the majority of
the souls which go thither after judgment; but we are left to
suppose that virtuous souls which go at once after judgment
to the Islands of the Blessed remain there thenceforth for
1 Hesiod, O. et D. 167 :—
τοῖς δὲ Sly’ ἀνθρώπων βίοτον καὶ Oe’ ὁπάσσας
Ζεὺς Κρονίδης κατένασσε πατὴρ ἐς πείρατα γαίης.
καὶ τοὶ μὲν ναίουσιν ἀκήδεα θυμὸν ἔχοντες
ἐν μακάρων νήσοισι παρ᾽ 'Qxeavdy βαθυδίνην,
ὄλβιοι ἥρωες, τοῖσιν μελιηδέα καρπόν
τρὶς ἔτεος θάλλοντα φέρει ζείδωρος ἄρουρα.
32. See Thiemann, die Platonische Eschatologie in ihrer genetischen Entwickelung
(1892), p. 20.
3. See Myer and Nutt’s Voyage of Bran, i. 329.
4 See Rohde, Psyche, i. 69.
THE ΠΑ ΡΟ MYTH 109
ever. In the Phaedo, however, the notion of progressive
purification dominates the view taken of the Islands or
“aethereal altitudes,” as well as of Tartarus. For “ Philo-
sophers” mansions even fairer than the aethereal altitudes
are indicated as the final abode. We are to think, perhaps,
of the natal stars of the Zimaeus. Finally, in the Lepublie,
where the notion of re-incarnation, kept in the background in
the Gorgias and the Phaedo,' is so prominent, the region to
which virtuous souls go after judgment is, at any rate for
many of them, only a place of temporary sojourn. They
return from it, as other souls return from Tartarus, to be
born again in the flesh. This view of Elysium as a place of
pleasant sojourn from which souls, virtuous on the whole, but
not yet completely purified, pass to the river of Lethe, and
thence, after drinking of its water, proceed to enter into new
terrestrial bodies, is that which we find in the Sixth Book of
the Aeneid. The view of Elysium represented in the Frogs
and the Awxiochus, on the other hand, is rather that of a final
abode of bliss, into which ceremonial observances secure a
speedy entrance, immediately after death, to the soul of the
μύστης. With this substitution of the opus operatum for the
personal struggle after purification, prolonged through this
life and perhaps many other lives, Plato has no sympathy. The
view of Elysium or οὐρανός as still a place of probation he
would have us accept as that which, on the whole, will guide
us best in the conduct of our earthly life.
Taking, then, the “ Islands of the Blessed” in the Gorgias
Myth, the οὐρανός in the Myth of Er, and the “ True Surface
of the Earth” in the Phaedo Myth, as names for the same
region, we may perhaps venture to harmonise the accounts
given of it in the three Myths, by saying that the souls of
the virtuous, after judgment, go thither—some of them to
sojourn for ever (Gorgias), some of them for a thousand years,
till they return again to enter into the flesh (Rep.), and a few
of them—Philosophers (Phaedo), till such time as they have
been thoroughly purified, and are translated to still fairer
mansions (οἰκήσεις ἔτε τούτων καλλίους, Phaedo, 114 Cc) in
the true Heaven, as the purified are taken up from Dante's
Earthly Paradise into the Heavenly Paradise.
1 In the Phaedo Myth; it appears in the Dialogue, 81 E-82 B.
110 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
It is certainly important to note that the place to which
the souls of the virtuous go in the three Platonic Myths—
variously called “ Islands of the Blessed,” “ True Surface of the
Earth,” and οὐρανός, “ Heaven ”—is, for some of these souls
at least, a temporary abode, a stage in their purgatorial course,
just as Tartarus is a Purgatory for all except the utterly
incorrigible.
In what part of the world are the Platonic “ Islands of
the Blessed” or “ Altitudes of the True Surface of the Earth ” ?
The Phaedo Myth does not say; but we are allowed to sup-
pose that they are far away from our οἰκουμένη, in another
part of the world. Perhaps Plato, in writing the Phaedo
Myth, did not even imagine a definite locality for them. We
are bound to allow for this possibility, but, in doing so, we
need not scruple to consider some evidence which may be
thought to point to the conclusion that he did localise them
—and that, in the antipodes, where Dante’s Mount of Purgatory
stands. The Awiochus, a pseudo-Platonic Dialogue,’ identifies
the world of the departed definitely with the antipodal hemi-
sphere. The author of the Aziochus probably thought that
the identification was in accordance with the geography and
cosmography of Plato; at any rate, those who accepted the
piece as written by Plato must have thought so. We may
safely go the length of saying that the identification would
not be impossible for Plato, so far as his view of the position
and shape of the Earth is concerned. He holds, with the
writer of the Axiochus, that the Earth is a sphere in the centre
of the Cosmos. The passage in the Awiochus is as follows
(371 A ff.) : τὴν ὑπόγειον οἴκησιν, ἐν ἡ βασίλεια Πλούτωνος,
οὐχ ἥττω τῆς τοῦ Διὸς αὔλης, ἅτε τῆς μὲν γῆς ἐχούσης τὰ
μέσα τοῦ κόσμου, τοῦ δὲ πόλου ὄντος σφαιροειδοῦς" οὗ τὸ
μὲν ἕτερον ἡμισφαίριον θεοὶ ἔλαχον οὐράνιοι, τὸ δὲ ἕτερον οἱ
1 See Thiemann, Plat. Eschat. p. 26, and Rohde, Psyche, i. 814 ; ii. 247, n. 1,
and 422. Rohde says that it can hardly be earlier than the third century B.c.
It is a παραμυθητικὸς λόγος containing expressions which point to the direct in-
fluence of Orphic teaching and practice. Axiochus is described (371 D) as
γεννήτης τῶν θεῶν .---ἴἶ, 6. as μεμνημένος, and therefore συγγενὴς τῶν θεῶν κατὰ Thy
ποίησιν---ὈΥ adoption, with which μύησις was commonly identified. For
γενούστης in Philebus, 30 p (a passage on which, I think, Plut. de gen. Soc, 22—
where μονάς is said to be prior to νοῦς -- τον light), γεννήτης, I think, ought
to be read ; but see R. G. Bury’s note ad loc. Apelt (zw Platons Philebus in
Rhein, Mus. vol. 55, 1. p. 13, 1900) suggests that γενούστης means ‘‘ parent of
vous,” by a punning derivation !
THE PHARDO MYTH 111
ὑπένερθεν ----ἰ,ε. the “ Palace of Pluto,” in addition to its sub-
terranean, or properly “infernal” parts, includes the whole
antipodal hemisphere of the Earth, with its sky lighted by
the sun, when it is night in our hemisphere,—toter λάμπει
μὲν μένος ἀελίου τὰν ἐνθάδε νύκτα κάτω (Pindar, fragm. 129),
--«Λητογενές, σὺ δὲ παῖδας ἐν ἡρώεσσι φυλάσσοις, εὐσεβέων
αἰεὶ χῶρον ἐπερχόμενος (Kaibel, ep. lap. 228 Ὁ 7, 8)) Τὸ
this “under world” the dead go to be judged. Some are
sent into the subterranean parts, while others enjoy the light
of day, in a land of flowers and streams, apparently still in
the hemisphere of οἱ ὑπένερθεν Peoi—of the antipodal gods,
as we may call them. Among these blessed ones it is dis-
tinctly stated that the “initiated” take precedence—évraiéa
τοῖς μεμυημένοις ἐστί τις προεδρία, 371 D.
Now, we may safely say that there is nothing in the
Platonic doctrine of the shape and position of the Earth
inconsistent with this “under world” of the Awiochus. But
can we say more? I venture to mention two points :—First,
Plato’s judgment-seat in the Myth of Er, between the open-
ings of “ Heaven” and Tartarus, is above ground, and so is
the region across which the pilgrims travel towards the pillar
of ight; and so (as I believe in all Greek accounts) is the
river of Lethe.” It is from the plain of Lethe, on the surface
of the Earth, that the souls shoot up (ἄνω, Rep. 621 8) to
be born again in terrestrial bodies—that is, I venture to
suggest, up from the lower, antipodal hemisphere to our hemi-
sphere. Secondly, the hollow or cave of Tartarus extends
right through the globe of the Earth, as we have seen—
διαμπερὲς τετρημένον δι᾿ ὅλης τῆς γῆς (Phaedo, 111 E)—zie.
has an opening in the lower hemisphere as well as in this.
Without going the length of supposing that Plato’s unseen
world is mapped out with the definiteness of Dante’s, we may
take it that Plato, with his poet’s faculty of visualisation,
must have formed a clear mental picture of the opening of
Tartarus in the “lower” or antipodal hemisphere, and of the
country into which one comes on issuing from it. The anti-
1 Quoted by Rohde, Psyche, ii. 210, n. 1.
* See Thiemann, Plat. Esch. p. 18. I shall return to this subject in my
observations on the Myth of Er. Virgil’s Lethe is of uncertain position ; but
Dante follows the universal Greek tradition in making Lethe a river of the
surface of the Earth.
112 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
podal opening was not, we may assume, imagined by Plato in
vain. Those souls which, after being judged (whether above
or under ground does not appear in the Phaedo—but probably
underground), go, not to the Islands of the Blessed, but down
the river Acheron to the Acherusian Lake (which is certainly
subterranean), have entered the infernal regions, we may
fairly suppose, by the opening in our hemisphere, and will
come out, after their penance, by the other—the antipodal—
opening, and will start thence on their journey—always above
ground—to the river of Lethe. That Plato actually thought
of the souls as going into Tartarus, and coming out of it, by
distinct openings, we know from the Myth of Er. But while
the entrance and exit are antipodally placed in the Phaedo
Myth, which takes careful account of cosmographical and
geological conditions, in the Myth of Er the purpose of
pictorial composition is served by placing them side by side,
opposite the entrance and exit of “Heaven”; the “ Meadow,”
at once the place of judgment and the starting-place for the
plain of Lethe, lying between Tartarus and “Heaven.” It
would be easy to give examples, from Greek vase-painting, of
similar compression in pictorial composition. I call attention
to this discrepancy between the Phaedo Myth and the Myth
of Er, to show how absurd it would be to attempt to con-
struct one topographical scheme for Plato’s Eschatological
Myths, as rigid as the one scheme to which Dante is so faith-
ful in the Divina Commedia. What I venture to suggest,
however, is that, in the Phaedo Myth, Plato is possibly—or
shall I say “probably ” ?—thinking of the world of the de-
parted, so far as it is not subterranean, or celestial, as some-
where in the other hemisphere of the terrestrial globe,—
somewhere, but as in a dream, in which inconsistencies are
accepted as natural; for the “True Surface of the Earth,”
though somewhere in the antipodal hemisphere, beneath us,
is yet a region above us, whence gems have found their way
down to our hollow!
I have dwelt on the parallel between the geography of the
Phaedo Myth and that of the Divina Commedia with the
view, not of clearing up particular difficulties in mythological
geography, but of suggesting a method by which the function
of Myth in the Platonic philosophy may be better understood
THE »ΠΑΡΟ MYTH 113
—the method of sealing the impression made on us by the
Myth of one great master by study of the Myth of another
great master with whom we may happen to be in closer
sympathy. The service which Myth, and poetical treatment
generally, can render to the faith on which conduct and science
ultimately rest is, 1 think, more easily and finely appreciated
by us in Dante than in Plato; for we live, though in late days,
in the same Christian epoch with the medieval poet.
ΠῚ
Let me close these observations on the Phaedo Myth by
calling attention to what Socrates says at the end of the
narrative (114 p),—that, while it would not be sensible to
maintain that all about the Soul and the next world contained
in the Myth is absolutely true, yet, since the Soul is plainly
immortal, one ought to hazard the pious belief that, if not
absolutely true, this Myth, or some other like it, is not far
from being true, and “sing it over oneself” as if it were an
enchanter’s song:—7T0 μὲν οὖν ταῦτα διισχυρίσασθαι οὕτως
ἔχειν, ὡς ἐγὼ διελήλυθα, οὐ πρέπει νοῦν ἔχοντι ἀνδρί: ὅτι
μέντοι ἢ ταῦτ᾽ ἐστὶν ἢ τοιαῦτ᾽ ἄττα περὶ τὰς ψυχὰς ἡμῶν
καὶ τὰς οἰκήσεις, ἐπείπερ ἀθάνατόν γε ἡ ψυχὴ φαίνεται ovdca,
τοῦτο καὶ πρέπειν μοι δοκεῖ καὶ ἄξιον κινδυνεῦσαι οἰομένῳ
οὕτως ἔχειν: καλὸς γὰρ ὁ κίνδυνος" καὶ χρὴ τὰ τοιαῦτα ὥσπερ
ἐπάδειν ἑαυτῷ, διὸ δὴ ἔγωγε καὶ πάλαι μηκύνω τὸν μῦθον.
The distinction between Dogma and Myth is carefully insisted
on here, and also the practical value of Myth as an expression
of moral and religious feeling. Myth, it is suggested, may be
put into such form that it will react favourably on the feeling
expressed, and make it a surer guide to what is good. The
reaction of expression on that which it expresses—of style on
the man—is a matter about which Plato had reflected deeply,
as is apparent from his whole scheme of education, mental,
moral, and physical, in the Republic. If, then, the sense of
responsibility, and the attendant sense of being a continuously
existent Self, naturally express themselves, as Plato holds, διὰ
μυθολογίας, pictorially, in visions of an immortal life, it follows
from the general law of the reaction of expression on feeling,
that, by refining and ennobling μυθολογία, we shall be able to
I
114 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
refine and ennoble morals and faith. This is the “use” to
which μῦθος is put by Plato, not only in the education of
young children, but in dialogues offered to mature readers as
models on which they may mould their own conversations
about the highest things. This is the “use” of great poetry,
like Dante’s Commedia, or of great painting, like the fresco on
the left-hand wall of the Spanish Chapel—*the most noble
piece of pictorial philosophy and divinity in Italy.”* As
philosophy and pictorial composition are blended together in
that fresco—the philosophy is seen as a whole, in all the
beauty of its μέγεθος καὶ τάξεις ----80. are philosophy and poetry
blended together where Plato is at his highest—in his Myths.
In the Phaedo Myth the poet-philosopher has taken moral
responsibility as the motif of his piece. Moral responsibility
cannot, he knows, be explained in scientific terms, as a
phenomenon is explained by being put into its proper place
among other phenomena; for moral responsibility attaches
immediately to the subject of all phenomena—the continuously
existing Self. But if it cannot be explained, moral responsi-
bility may be pictured—pictured in a Myth representing the
continuity of the responsible Self in terms of Pre-existence,
Reminiscence, Judgment, Penance, Free Choice, Re-incarnation
—a Myth not to be taken literally, but to be dwelt on (χρὴ
Ta τοιαῦτα ὥσπερ ἐπάδειν ἑαυτῷ), till the charm of it touches
one deeply—so deeply that, when the “uninitiated” say “it
is not true,” one is able to answer by acting as if it were true.
1 Ruskin’s Alornings in Florence, chap. iv., ‘‘The Vaulted Book”; cf. Renan,
Averroes et l’ Averroisme, pp. 245, 246.
ΤῊΝ GORGIAS MYTH
CONTEXT
GoRGIAS, the famous teacher of LKhetoric, and lis young
disciple Polus, meet Socrates at the house of Callicles, an
Athenian gentleman ; and the conversation turns on the differ-
ence between Rhetoric and the Way of true Knowledge and the
true Conduct of Life.
What is Rhetoric? Socrates asks. Neither Gorgias nor
Polus can give an intelligible answer; and Socrates answers
for them by describing it as the Simulation of Justice, the Art
of getting people to believe what the Professor of the Art wishes
them to believe, and they themselves wish to believe, without
regard to Truth or Justice. It is the Art of Flattery. It
ignores the distinction between Pleasure and the Good—a dis-
tinction to the reality of which human nature itself testrifies—for
all men, bad as well as good, wish the Good, and bad men, in
doing what they think best for themselves, do what they do not
wish to do. To seek after the Good is of the very essence of Life
—it is better to suffer evil than to do evil; and if a man has
done evil, it ws better for him to be chastised than to escape
chastisement.
Here Callicles, speaking as a man of the world, takes up the
argument, and maintains that Statesmanship does not recognise
this distinction drawn by Socrates between Pleasure and the
Good. Pleasure is the Good. Might is Right.
After much talk Callicles is silenced, and Socrates points out
that there are two kinds of Statesmanship—that which uses
Rhetoric as its instrument, and flatters people, and deceives them,
holding up Pleasure before them; and that which, keeping the
Good always in view, makes them better.
At the Day of Judgment, which the Myth now told by
Socrates declares, there will be no place for the Art of Flattery.
Pretence will not avail. There will be no side issues then. The
only issue will be: Is this man righteous or is he wicked ?
With the Myth of the Day of Judgment the Gorgias ends.
115
116 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Gorgias 523 A-527C
’ a ’ ἃ \ /
523 Ἄκουε δή, φασί, μάλα καλοῦ λόγου, ὃν σὺ μὲν ἡγήσει
- ς A, κι ΒΟΥ͂Ν δὲ / e ) A \ ”
μῦθον, ws ἐγὼ οἶμαι, ἐγὼ δὲ λόγον: ws ἀληθῆ yap ὄντα
δ / , “ / /
σοι λέξω ἃ μέλλω λέγειν. “Ὥσπερ yap “Ὅμηρος λέγει,
ὃ / \ > \ ς 7, \ \ e Tl / > ὃ) \
ιενείμαντο THY ἀρχὴν ὁ Ζεὺς καὶ ὁ ἸΙλούτων, ἐπειδὴ παρὰ
a \ / = “ / ef \ > ,
Tov πατρὸς παρέλαβον. ἣν οὖν νόμος ὅδε περὶ ἀνθρώπων
“ον / \ Ast \ a » ” > a A
ἐπὶ Κρόνου, καὶ ἀεὶ καὶ νῦν ἔτι ἔστιν ἐν θεοῖς, τῶν
, \ / / \ e /
ἀνθρώπων τὸν μὲν δικαίως τὸν βίον διελθόντα καὶ ὁσίως,
> \ / > / / > / > lal 5
Β ἐπειδὰν τελευτήσῃ, ἐς μακάρων νήσους ἀπιόντα οἰκεῖν ἐν
/ ’ / > \ la \ \ 5» \ »f/
πάσῃ εὐδαιμονίᾳ ἐκτὸς κακῶν, τὸν δὲ ἀδίκως Kal ἀθέως
> \ ‘ol / / \ / / ἃ \ /
εἰς TO τῆς Ticeds τε Kal δίκης δεσμωτήριον, ὃ δὴ τάρταρον
a >/ 4 \ \ ΕΣ ἢ / \ ΝΜ
καλοῦσιν, ἰέναι. τούτων δὲ δικασταὶ ἐπὶ Κρόνου καὶ ἔτι
\ a \ \ > \ ” lal a /
νεωστὶ τοῦ Διὸς τὴν ἀρχὴν ἔχοντος ζῶντες ἦσαν ζώντων,
> / A e / / - / “- A
ἐκείνῃ τῇ ἡμέρᾳ δικάζοντες, ἣ μέλλοιεν τελευτᾶν. κακῶς
93 ΄ / > / Ὁ 5S / \ e >’
οὖν at δίκαι éxpivovto, 6 Te οὖν Πλούτων Kal οἱ ἐπιμε-
\ ΘΟ / / 7/7 » \ \ /
ANTAL οἱ ἐκ μακάρων νήσων ἰόντες ἔλεγον πρὸς Tov Δία,
“ as ” ε ͵ ee 3 > ε
Ο ὅτι φοιτῴέν σφιν ἄνθρωποι ἑκατέρωσε ἀνάξιοι. εἶπεν οὖν ὁ
» + / , Fi lal / lal
Ζεύς, ᾿Αλλ᾽ ἐγώ, ἔφη, παύσω τοῦτο γιγνόμενον. νῦν μὲν
\ a e δί ὃ / > / / » e
yap κακῶς αἱ δίκαι δικάζονται. ἀμπεχόμενοι yap, ἔφη, οἱ
/ / ia) \ / \ s ἂν
κρινόμενοι κρίνονται" ζῶντες γὰρ κρίνονται. πολλοὶ οὖν, ἢ
δ᾽ ef \ \ ” > / gs ’ /
ὃς, ψυχὰς πονηρᾶς ἔχοντες ἠμφιεσμένοι εἰσὶ σώματά TE
\ \ / \ / / > \ e / >
καλὰ Kal γένη Kal πλούτους, Kal, ἐπειδὰν ἡ κρίσις ἢ,
ΝΜ > ΄ \ / / e /
ἔρχονται αὑτοῖς πολλοὶ μάρτυρες μαρτυρήσοντες, ὡς δικαίως
͵ e εν
Ὁ βεβιώκασιν. οἱ οὖν δικασταὶ ὑπό τε τούτων ἐκπλήττονται,
\ Ὁ ‘\ > \ > / 7 Ν a a
Kal ἅμα Kal αὐτοὶ ἀμπεχόμενοι δικάζουσι, πρὸ τῆς ψυχῆς
- id “ > \ \ 9 ». ef \ a)
τῆς αὑτῶν ὀφθαλμοὺς καὶ ὦτα Kal ὅλον TO σῶμα TpoKEKa-
/ a \ > a /
λυμμένοι. ταῦτα δὴ αὐτοῖς πάντα ἐπίπροσθεν γίγνεται, Kal
\ > a) > / \ a rn
Ta αὐτῶν ἀμφιέσματα καὶ τὰ τῶν κρινομένων. πρῶτον μὲν
“ v / ᾽ \ / > \ \ 7
οὖν, ἔφη, παυστέον ἐστὶ προειδότας αὐτοὺς τὸν θάνατον"
a \ \ «Α r \ 9 \ \ ν lal
νῦν μὲν yap προΐσασι. τοῦτο μὲν οὖν Kal δὴ εἴρηται τῷ
ἘΠ θ a @ vn 4 > a ΝΜ \ /
ρομηθεῖ ὅπως ἂν παύσῃ αὐτῶν. ἔπειτα γυμνοὺς κριτέον
΄ 7 / cal \ A / \
ἁπάντων τούτων: τεθνεῶτας yap Set κρίνεσθαι. καὶ τὸν
THE GORGIAS MYTH 117
TRANSLATION
Hearken now to an excellent True Story: a Fable, me-
thinks, thou wilt deem it; but I deem it no Fable, for that
the things are true, whereof I will now tell, I am fully per-
suaded. What Homer telleth, that will I now tell: That Zeus
and Poseidon and Pluto divided amongst them the kingdom,
when they had received it from their father Cronus. Now, in
his time there was this law among the gods concerning men,
which standeth fast unto this day as of old, that the man who
hath gone through his life righteously in the fear of the Gods,
after death goeth to the Isles of the Blessed, and dwelleth there
in all felicity beyond the touch of ill; but the man who hath
lived unrighteously without the fear of the Gods before his
eyes, he goeth to the prison-house of just retribution, which
men call Tartarus.
They who were Judges in the time of Cronus, and when
Zeus was newly come to his kingdom, were living men; and
they also were living men who were judged, each on that day
on the which he should die. Now, judgments given thus were
ill-given, and Pluto and the Overseers from the Isles of the
Blessed came and spake unto Zeus, making complaint that
many came unworthily unto either place. Wherefore Zeus
said: Verily I will end this; for now are the judgments given
ill, because they who are judged are judged with their raiment
on, being judged alive. Many there be, he said, that have evil
souls, and, for raiment, have fair bodies and noble birth and
riches: when these are judged, many witnesses come to bear
witness for them, that they have lived righteously. By these
are the Judges confounded; and, moreover, they themselves
sit in judgment with raiment on, having eyes and ears, yea,
and the whole Body, as clothing wherewith their Soul is
covered. All these things hinder them, to wit, their own
raiment, and the raiment of those that are judged. First, then,
he said, must they be stopped of their foreknowing the day of
their death: for now have they foreknowledge. Wherefore
Prometheus hath been charged to stop them of this. Then
naked, stripped of all, must they be judged; for they must be
524
118 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
\ a lal A a A \ \
κριτὴν δεῖ γυμνὸν εἶναι, τεθνεῶτα, αὐτῇ TH ψυχῇ αὐτὴν τὴν
la / ,
ψυχὴν θεωροῦντα ἐξαίφνης ἀποθανόντος ἑκάστου, ἔρημον
ω la / a fal
πάντων TOV συγγενῶν Kal καταλιπόντα ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς πάντα
-ι / lA “-
ἐκεῖνον τὸν κόσμον, ἵνα δικαία ἡ κρίσις 7. ἐγὼ μὲν οὖν
lo / lal ~
ταῦτα ἐγνωκὼς πρότερος ἢ ὑμεῖς ἐποιησάμην δικαστὰς υἱεῖς
> “- 4 \ b] n 5» / / \ « /
ἐμαυτοῦ, δύο μὲν ἐκ τῆς ᾿Ασίας, Μίνω te καὶ Ῥαδάμανθυν,
“ \ > a > , > / * = > \
ἕνα δὲ ἐκ τῆς Εὐρώπης, Αἰακόν. οὗτοι οὖν, ἐπειδὰν
A ~ a /
τελευτήσωσι, δικάσουσιν ἐν τῷ λειμῶνι, ἐν TH τριόδῳ, ἐξ
΄ , \ e , ς \ > / / ς > >
ἧς φέρετον τὼ 060, ἡ μὲν εἰς μακάρων νήσους, ἡ δ᾽ εἰς
\ a ᾽ lo
τάρταρον. καὶ τοὺς μὲν ἐκ τῆς ᾿Ασίας “PaddpavOus κρινεῖ,
“ a
τοὺς δὲ ἐκ τῆς Edpwmns Αἰακός: Μίνῳ δὲ πρεσβεῖα δώσω
/ \ an / /
ἐπιδιακρίνειν, ἐὰν ἀπορῆτόν τι τὼ ἑτέρω, ἵνα ὡς δικαιοτάτη
/ “. a / a
ἡ κρίσις ἢ περὶ τῆς πορείας τοῖς ἀνθρώποις.
a 9
Ταῦτ ἔστιν, ὦ Καλλίκλεις, ἃ ἐγὼ ἀκηκοὼς πιστεύω
~ / a / /
ἀληθῆ εἶναι" καὶ ἐκ τούτων τῶν λόγων τοιόνδε TL λογίζομαι
/ e / / ” ς > \ - »O\
συμβαίνειν. Ὃ θάνατος τυγχάνει ὦν, ὡς ἐμοὶ δοκεῖ, οὐδὲν
ΝΜ Δ ad ; / an ral \ n
ἄλλο ἢ δυοῖν πραγμάτοιν διάλυσις, τῆς ψυχῆς καὶ τοῦ
» nw ww ᾽
σώματος, ἀπ᾿ ἀλλήλοιν. ἐπειδὰν δὲ διαλυθῆτον ἄρα ἀπ
> / >’ \ = e / > a“ » \ Ὁ
ἀλλήλοιν, οὐ πολὺ ἧττον ἑκάτερον αὐτοῖν ἔχει τὴν ἕξιν
la) ς , la
τὴν αὑτοῦ ἥνπερ Kal ὅτε ἔζη ὁ ἄνθρωπος, TO TE σῶμα τὴν
\ lal /
φύσιν τὴν αὑτοῦ Kal τὰ θεραπεύματα καὶ τὰ παθήματα,
5) al /
ἔνδηλα πάντα. οἷον εἴ Tivos μέγα ἣν TO σῶμα φύσει ἢ
"ἃ > / a / \ > \ > ΄ ς
τροφῇ ἢ ἀμφότερα ζῶντος, τούτου καὶ ἐπειδὰν αποθάνῃ ὁ
/ /
νεκρὸς μέγας" Kal εἰ παχύς, παχὺς Kal ἀποθανόντος, Kal
a /
τᾶλλα οὕτως. Kal εἰ αὖ ἐπετήδευε κομᾶν, κομήτης τούτου
/ rn
Kal ὁ νεκρός. μαστιγίας αὖ εἴ τις ἣν Kal ἴχνη εἶχε τῶν
a > \ > a ’ δ ς \ / Xx »
πληγῶν οὐλὰς ἐν τῷ σώματι ἢ ὑπὸ μαστίγων ἢ ἄλλων
τραυμάτων ζῶν, καὶ τεθνεῶτος τὸ σῶμα ἔστιν ἰδεῖν ταῦτα
» , ’ / a“
ἔχον. KaTeayota τε εἴ Tov ἣν μέλη ἢ διεστραμμένα ζῶντος,
\ a > 4 rn » α΄ κ \ / 3
καὶ τεθνεῶτος ταὐτὰ ταῦτα ἔνδηλα. ἑνὶ δὲ λόγῳ, οἷος εἶναι
παρεσκεύαστο τὸ σῶμα ζῶν, ἔνδηλα ταῦτα καὶ τελευτή-
\ /
σαντος ἢ πάντα ἢ Ta πολλὰ ἐπί τινα χρόνον ταὐτὸν δή
an a \
μοι δοκεῖ τοῦτ᾽ ἄρα Kal περὶ τὴν Ψυχὴν εἶναι, ὦ
Καλλίκλεις: ἔνδηλα πάντα ἐστὶν ἐν τῇ ψυχῇ, ἐπειδὰν
a κ , an /
γυμνωθῇ τοῦ σώματος, τά TE τῆς φύσεως Kal τὰ παθήματα
/ / Lal
ἃ διὰ τὴν ἐπιτήδευσιν ἑκάστου πράγματος ἔσχεν ἐν TH
THE GORGIAS MYTH 119
judged dead. The Judge also must be naked, dead, with very
Soul beholding the very Soul of each, as soon as he is dead,
bereft of all his kindred, having left upon the earth all the
adornment he had there. So shall the judgment be just. I
therefore, having considered all these things before that ye
came unto me, have made my sons Judges—two from Asia,
Minos and Rhadamanthys, and one from Europe, Aeacus.
These, when they are dead, shall sit in judgment in the
Meadow at the Parting of the Ways, whence the two Ways
lead—the one unto the Isles of the Blessed, and the other unto
Tartarus. And those of Asia shall Rhadamanthys judge, and
those of Europe, Aeacus. But unto Minos will I appoint the
chief place, that he may give judgment at the last, if the other
two be in doubt as touching any matter. Thus shall the
judgments concerning the Passage of Men be most just.
These are the things, O Callicles, which I have heard ;
and I believe that they are true; moreover, therefrom I con-
clude this, to wit :—Death is only the separation of two things,
Soul and Body, from each other. When they have been
separated from each other, the state of each of them is well
nigh the same it was while the man lived. The Body keepeth
the natural fashion it had, and the marks plain of all the
care that was taken for it and of all that happened unto it.
For if any man while he lived was great of body, by nature,
or nurture, or both, his corpse also is great when he is dead ;
and if he was fat, his corpse also is fat when he is dead;
also, if any man wore long hair, his corpse also hath long
hair; and if any man was a whipped cur, and bore on his
body the prints of his beatings—scars made by the whip, or
scars of other wounds—while he lived, when he is dead thou
mayest see his corpse with the same; and if any man had his
limbs broken and disjoint while he lived, when he is dead also
the same is plain. The sum of the whole matter is, that what-
soever conditions of Body a man hath while he liveth, these
are plain when he is dead, all or most, for some while.
Now, O Callicles, that which happeneth unto the Body,
happeneth, methinks, unto the Soul likewise, to wit, there are
plain in the Soul, after she hath been stripped of the Body, her
natural conditions and those affections which, through use in
any matter, a man hath gotten in his Soul.
120 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
A ε ” ’ \ io 5) ἕ \ \
ψυχῇ ὁ ἄνθρωπος. “Eredav οὖν ἀφίκωνται παρὰ τὸν
/ e \ ᾿ lol 3 / \ \ ¢ / e
E δικαστήν, of μὲν ἐκ τῆς ᾿Ασίας παρὰ τὸν Ῥαδάμανθυν, ὁ
Ῥ ὃ / > / > / a e / \ /
αδάμανθυς ἐκείνους ἐπιστήσας θεᾶται ἑκάστου τὴν ψυχήν,
οὐκ εἰδὼς ὅτου ἐστίν, ἀλλὰ πολλάκις τοῦ μεγάλου
/ xX e re
βασιλέως ἐπιλαβόμενος ἢ ἄλλου ὁτουοῦν βασιλέως ἢ
ὃ ΄, » δὲ ς \ x n - > \
υνάστου κατεῖδεν οὐδὲν uyles ὃν τῆς ψυχῆς, αλλὰ
\ a \ \ a
διαμεμαστυγωμένην Kal οὐλῶν μεστὴν ὑπὸ ἐπιορκιῶν Kal
/ ἃ / rn r /
525 ἀδικίας, ἃ ἑκάστῳ ἡ πρᾶξις αὐτοῦ ἐξωμόρξατο eis τὴν
’, \ , \ Jers: ΄ \ ᾽ / \
ψυχὴν, Kal πάντα σκολιὰ ὑπὸ ψεύδους Kal ἀλαζονείας καὶ
οὐδὲν εὐθὺ διὰ τὸ ἄνευ ἀληθείας τεθράφθαι: καὶ ὑπὸ
/ a δ / a
ἐξουσίας καὶ τρυφῆς καὶ ὕβρεως Kal axpatias τῶν πράξεων
, / / \ \ 3
ἀσυμμετρίας τε καὶ αἰσχρότητος γέμουσαν τὴν ψυχὴν εἶδεν.
9 \ \ ᾽ / / > / b] \ a al ?
ἰδὼν δὲ ἀτίμως ταύτην ἀπέπεμψεν εὐθὺ τῆς φρουρᾶς, of
/ al >’ a \ / /
μέλλει ἐλθοῦσα ἀνατλῆναι TA προσήκοντα πάθη.
/ \ \ A ? / ” e ᾽ ”
B Προσήκει δὲ παντὶ τῷ ἐν τιμωρίᾳ ὄντι ὑπ᾽ ἄλλου
> a 7 a / / \ Φ δ Xx
ὀρθῶς τιμωρουμένῳ ἢ βελτίονι γίγνεσθαι Kal ὀνίνασθαι ἢ
, val bys / “ 5 bY cn
παραδείγματι τοῖς ἄλλοις γίγνεσθαι, ἵν ἄλλοι ορῶντες
΄ ἃ Ἃ / / / ’ὔ
πάσχοντα ἃ ἂν πάσχῃ φοβούμενοι βελτίους γίγνωνται.
\ e \ > 7 / \ / / 3 \ lal
εἰσὶ δὲ οἱ μὲν ὠφελούμενοί Te καὶ δίκην διδόντες ὑπὸ θεῶν
᾿' /
Te καὶ ἀνθρώπων οὗτοι, of ἂν ἰάσιμα ἁμαρτήματα
id / “ \ » ᾿] / \ ’ A /
ἁμάρτωσιν: ὅμως δὲ δι ἀλγηδόνων Kal ὀδυνῶν γίγνεται
r f /
αὐτοῖς ἡ ὠφέλεια καὶ ἐνθάδε καὶ ἐν “Αἰιδου: ov γὰρ οἷόν
ΝΜ \ 3 x μ᾽
στε ἄλλως ἀδικίας ἀπαλλάττεσθαι: of ὃ ἂν τὰ ἔσχατα
/ a / ,
ἀδικήσωσι καὶ διὰ τὰ τοιαῦτα ἀδικήματα ἀνίατοι γένωνται,
/ \ φ
ἐκ τούτων τὰ παραδείγματα γίγνεται, καὶ οὗτοι αὐτοὶ μὲν
> / 2 / > / “ > / Μ ΝΜ \ > /
οὐκέτι ὀνίνανται οὐδέν, ἅτε ἀνίατοι ὄντες, ἄλλοι δὲ ὀνίναν-
ς a / \ /
Tat οἱ τούτους ὁρῶντες διὰ τὰς ἁμαρτίας τὰ μέγιστα Kal
/ \ \
ὀδυνηρότατα καὶ φοβερώτατα πάθη πάσχοντας τὸν ἀεὶ
a “
χρόνον, ἀτεχνῶς παραδείγματα ἀνηρτημένους ἐκεῖ ἐν “Atdov
a / /
ἐν τῷ δεσμωτηρίῳ, τοῖς ἀεὶ τῶν ἀδίκων ἀφικνουμένοις
2 ἧς ἃ 4 5.3 ,
D θεάματα καὶ νουθετήματα. ὧν ἐγώ φημι ἕνα καὶ Ἀρχέλαον
᾽ a lal / “ δ
ἔσεσθαι, εἰ ἀληθῆ λέγει ἸΙῶλος, καὶ ἄλλον ὅστις ἂν
-“ εἰ \ \ \ Φ
τοιοῦτος τύραννος ἡ. οἶμαι δὲ καὶ τοὺς πολλοὺς εἶναι
lal ’
τοὺς τούτων τῶν παραδειγμάτων ἐκ τυράννων καὶ βασιλέων
- \ = / 7 ’
καὶ δυναστῶν καὶ τὰ τῶν πόλεων πραξάντων γεγονότας"
οὗτοι γὰρ διὰ τὴν ἐξουσίαν μέγιστα καὶ ἀνοσιώτατα
΄ / a / ν Ὁ,
ἁμαρτήωατα ἁμαρτάνουσι. μαρτυρεῖ δὲ τούτοις καὶ ᾿Ομηρος"
- / \
βασιλέας yap καὶ δυνάστας ἐκεῖνος πεποίηκε τοὺς ἐν
THE GORGIAS MYTH 12]
Wherefore, when they from Asia are come before the
presence of Rhadamanthys their Judge, he causeth them to
stand, and looketh at the Soul of each, not knowing whose
Soul it is; but perchance having gotten hold of the Soul of
the Great King, or of some other King or Ruler, perceiveth
that it hath no soundness, but is seamed with the marks of
many stripes, and full of the scars of perjuries and unrighteous-
ness, according as the doings of each have stamped on his
Soul their signs; and all therein is crooked by reason of false-
hood and boasting, and nothing straight, because he hath
been bred up without truth; and by reason of pride and
luxury and wantonness and incontinency in his life, his Soul
is altogether deformed and foul. This Soul then the Judge
seeth, and having seen, sendeth with dishonour straightway
unto the prison, whither it must go and endure the tor-
ments appointed for it. Now, it is appointed for every one
who is punished, if he be punished righteously by another,
either to become better and himself receive benefit, or to be set
forth for an example unto others, that they, seeing his torments,
may fear and become better. Now, they who are profited the
while they pay unto Gods and Men the penalty of their sins,
are they whose sins may be cured. Through afflictions and
pains there cometh unto them profit both here and in the
House of Hades; for otherwise can no man be rid of un-
righteousness.
But they who have sinned to the utmost, and by reason
of their great sins are beyond cure, they are the examples
whereof I spake ; for now they cannot themselves be benefited,
inasmuch as they are beyond cure, but other men are benefited,
when they see them by reason of their sins suffering torments
exceeding great and terrible for evermore, being verily examples
hung up in the House of Hades, in the prison-house, for a
spectacle and admonition unto every sinner which cometh.
Of these that be set forth for examples I say that
Archelaus will be, if Polus speaketh truly; and any other
Prince that is like unto him. Most, methinks, were Princes
and Kings and Rulers and Chief Men in their cities; for they,
by reason of the power they have, do sin more heinously than
othermen. Whereof Homer is witness, in that he telleth that
they which are tormented in the House of Hades for evermore
122 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
E”Avdov τὸν ἀεὶ χρόνον τιμωρουμένους, Τάνταλον καὶ Σίσυφον
καὶ Τιτυόν. Θερσίτην δέ, καὶ εἴ τις ἄλλος πονηρὸς ἣν
/
ἰδιώτης, οὐδεὶς πεποίηκε μεγάλαις τιμωρίαις συνεχόμενον
᾿ > / > / s In > \ \ > /
ὡς ἀνίατον" ov γάρ, οἶμαι, ἐξῆν αὐτῷ" διὸ καὶ evdatpove-
«
στερος ἣν ἢ οἷς ἐξῆν. ἀλλὰ γάρ, ὦ Καλλίκλεις, ἐκ τῶν
/ a ' \ e / \ , ΝΜ
526 δυναμένων εἰσὶ καὶ οἱ σφόδρα πονηροὶ γυγνόμενοι ἄνθρωποι"
>’ \ \ , \ ’ / > \ Μ 5 /
οὐδὲν μὴν κωλύει Kal ἐν τούτοις ἀγαθοὺς ἄνδρας ἐγγί-
\ / » ” fal /
γνεσθαι, καὶ σφόδρα ye ἄξιον ἄγασθαι τῶν γυγνομένων᾽
χαλεπὸν γάρ, ὦ Καλλίκλεις, καὶ πολλοῦ ἐπαίνου ἄξιον ἐν
/ 5 / “ ᾽ "-" / / “
μεγάλῃ ἐξουσίᾳ τοῦ ἀδικεῖν γενόμενον δικαίως διαβιῶναι.
3 / \ / . fal > \ \ > / \ Mv
ὀλίγοι δὲ γίγνονται οἱ τοιοῦτοι: ἐπεὶ καὶ ἐνθάδε καὶ ἄλ-
, “ \ ΝΙΝ \ > \ ΄
λοθι γεγόνασιν, οἶμαι δὲ καὶ ἔσονται καλοὶ κἀγαθοὶ ταύτην
\ b , \ r / / a ” > /
Β τὴν ἀρετήν, THY τοῦ δικαίως διαχειρίζειν ἃ ἄν τις ἐπιτρέπῃ"
/ » i
εἷς δὲ καὶ πάνυ ἐλλόγιμος γέγονε Kal εἰς τοὺς ἄλλους
“ e / φ
ἕλληνας, ᾿Αριστείδης ὁ Λυσιμάχου. οἱ δὲ πολλοί, ὦ
ἄριστε, κακοὶ γίγνονται τῶν δυναστῶν.
/ e a
Ὅπερ οὖν ἔλεγον, ἐπειδδν ὁ Ῥαδάμανθυς ἐκεῖνος
» / na
τοιοῦτον τινα λάβῃ, ἄλλο μὲν περὶ αὐτοῦ οὐκ οἶδεν οὐδέν,
» A be e 7g ᾿ ee \ / \ la
οὔθ᾽ ὅστις οὔθ᾽ ὧντινων, ὅτι δὲ πονηρός Tis: Kal τοῦτο
/
κατιδὼν ἀπέπεμψεν εἰς τάρταρον ἐπισημηνάμενος, ἐάν TE
». ΙΑ 5.ν a 5 e \ > a » ,
Οσἰάσιμος ἐάν τε ἀνίατος δοκῇ εἶναι" ὁ δὲ ἐκεῖσε ἀφικόμενος
\ / / ) Ny > ” > \ iN
τὰ προσήκοντα πάσχει. ἐνίοτε δ᾽ ἄλλην εἰσιδὼν ὁσίως
nA , Ns ΕΣ
βεβιωκυῖαν καὶ pet ἀληθείας, ἀνδρὸς ἰδιώτου ἢ ἄλλου
»“ ’ὔ /
τινός, μάλιστα μέν, ἔγωγέ φημι, ὦ Καλλίκλεις, φιλοσόφου
\ e “ 7 \ » / P| A
τὰ αὑτοῦ πράξαντος καὶ ov πολυπραγμονήσαντος ἐν τῷ
7 ᾽ 7 \ » 7 / > / > \
βίῳ, ἠγάσθη τε Kal ἐς μακάρων νήσους ἀπέπεμψε. ταὐτὰ
- Ν e > / e / \ / 4 4
ταῦτα καὶ ὁ Αἰακός. ἑκάτερος δὲ τούτων ῥάβδον ἔχων
/ e \ / ’ lal / / v
δικάζε. ὁ δὲ Μίνως ἐπισκοπῶν κάθηται, μόνος ἔχων
a a e > e > a
Ὁ χρυσοῦν σκῆπτρον, ws φησιν Ὀδυσσεὺς ὁ ὋὉμήρου ἰδεῖν
> \
AUTOV
A ” , ,
χρύσεον σκήηπτρον εχόοντα, θεμιστεύοντα μεκυσσιεν,
᾽ ‘ ; , \ , a /
Eyo μὲν οὗν, ὦ Καλλίκλεις, ὑπὸ τούτων τῶν λόγων
΄“ id Lal a lal ¢
πέπεισμαι, Kal σκοπῶ, ὅπως ἀποφανοῦμαι τῷ κριτῇ ὡς
ὑγιεστάτην τὴν ψυχήν. χαίρειν οὖν ἐάσας τὰς τιμὰς τὰς
ΤῊΝ GORGIAS MYTH 123
are Kings and Rulers, to wit, Tantalus, and Sisyphus, and Tityus.
But of Thersites, or any other Commoner which was an evil-
doer, no poet hath told that he is held in great torments as
being beyond cure: nay, methinks, such an one had not the
opportunity to sin greatly. Wherefore also he was happier
than those who had opportunity. Verily, O Callicles, ‘tis
from among those who have power that the greatest sinners
come, notwithstanding even among these may good men arise ;
whom, when they are found, it is most meet to reverence,
for ‘tis a hard thing, O Callicles, and worthy of all praise,
for a man, who hath great opportunity to do injustice, to live
justly all his days. Few such are found; yet are some found ;
for both here and elsewhere have there arisen, and, methinks,
will arise again, men of a noble virtue and just conduct in
those matters whereof charge at any time is given unto them:
of whom was Aristides, the son of Lysimachus, a man famous
throughout all Greece: but I tell thee, Sir, of them that
have power in cities the most part are alway evil.
When one of these evil men, therefore, standeth, as I told,
before Rhadamanthys the Judge, he knoweth nought else
concerning him, neither who he is nor whose son, but only
this, that he is one of the wicked ; and perceiving this, sendeth
him away unto Tartarus, having put a mark upon him to
signify whether he can be cured or no: and he, coming to
that place, there suffereth that which is due.
But perchance the Judge seeth a Soul that hath lived in
holiness and truth; it may be, the Soul of a Common Man or
of some other; but in most likelihood, say I, of a Philosopher,
Callicles, who hath minded his own matters and been no
busybody in his life. That Soul pleaseth the eye of Rhada-
manthys, and he sendeth it away to the Islands of the Blessed.
In like manner Aeacus also judgeth. And each of these
sitteth in judgment holding a rod in his hand. But Minos is
seated as president over them; and he alone hath a golden
sceptre, as Homer his Odysseus telleth, that he saw him
“with a golden sceptre in his hand giving laws unto the
Dead.”
I am persuaded, O Callicles, that these things that are
told are true. Wherefore I consider how I shall show my
Soul most faultless before the Judge. I will take my farewell
521
124 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
a A ᾽ / \ > / Ὁ /
τῶν πολλῶν ἀνθρώπων, τὴν ἀλήθειαν σκοπῶν πειράσομαι
a e Sy , / x \ a / 2 \
τῷ ὄντι ὡς ἂν δύνωμαι βέλτιστος ὧν Kal ζῆν καί, ἐπειδὰν
> / > / fa) \ \ \ ”
ἀποθνήσκω, ἀποθνήσκειν. παρακαλῶ δὲ Kal τοὺς ἄλλους
/ ᾽ « / \
πάντας ἀνθρώπους, καθ᾽ ὅσον δύναμαι, καὶ δὴ Kal σὲ
“ rn \ \ aA o
ἀντιπαρακαλῶ ἐπὶ τοῦτον Tov βίον Kal τὸν ἀγῶνα τοῦτον,
Aa ᾽ , 5] 3 / A > 7 > , 3 Ν
ὃν ἐγώ φημι ἀντὶ πάντων τῶν ἐνθάδε ἀγώνων εἶναι, καὶ
> / sd > al » ” A fel Ὁ
ὀνειδίζω σοι, OTL οὐχ οἷός T ἔσει σαυτῷ βοηθῆσαι, ὅταν
e / 3 Ν e / A “ \ > Ἁ > Ἄ
ἡ δίκη σοι ἦ καὶ ἡ κρίσις ἣν νῦν δὴ ἐγὼ ἔλεγον, ἀλλὰ
\ \ \ \ \ a δῶν. «7 > /
ἐλθὼν παρὰ τὸν δικαστὴν τὸν τῆς Αἰγίνης υἱόν, ἐπειδάν
/ ” / >
σου ἐπιλαβόμενος ayn, χασμήσει καὶ ἰλυγγιάσεις οὐδὲν
x \ / + al /
ἧττον ἢ ἐγὼ ἐνθάδε σὺ ἐκεῖ, Kal σε ἴσως τυπτήσει τις Kal
\ - ’
ἐπὶ Koppns ἀτίμως Kal πάντως προπηλακιεῖ. Taya 8 οὖν
- ral / - / 4 / \
ταῦτα μῦθος σοι δοκεῖ λέγεσθαι, ὥσπερ γραὸς, Kal KaTa-
nw ~ / > x 93 \ [αν
φρονεῖς αὐτῶν. καὶ οὐδέν y ἂν ἣν θαυμαστὸν καταφρονεῖν
7 a a “, \
τούτων, εἴ πῃ ζητοῦντες εἴχομεν αὐτῶν βελτίω καὶ
5) / ς al rn \ Ἐν’ ἊΝ Ὁ a ” e -“
ἀληθέστερα εὑρεῖν: νῦν δὲ ὁρᾷς, ὅτι τρεῖς ὄντες ὑμεῖς,
+, / ͵ lal “ / 4 \ an
οἵπερ σοφώτατοί ἐστε τῶν νῦν “EXAnvav, σύ τε καὶ ἸΙῶλος
- - / /
καὶ Vopyias, οὐκ ἔχετε ἀποδεῖξαι, ws δεῖ ἄλλον τινὰ βίον
A Ἃ - oe \ > A / / > >’
Civ ἢ τοῦτον, ὅσπερ καὶ ἐκεῖσε φαίνεται cuuhEepwv, ἀλλ
4 / al / / /
ἐν τοσούτοις λόγοις τῶν ἄλλων ἐλεγχομένων μόνος οὗτος
> aA e / e > / 2 \ \ > a lal δ
ἠρεμεῖ ὁ λόγος, ὡς εὐλαβητέον ἐστὶ τὸ ἀδικεῖν μᾶλλον ἢ
\ ᾽ lal \ \ nA > \ / > ‘
TO ἀδικεῖσθαι, καὶ παντὸς μᾶλλον ἀνδρὶ μελετητέον οὐ τὸ
al 3 > / > \ \ - \ ᾽ / \ ,
δοκεῖν εἶναι ἀγαθόν, ἀλλὰ τὸ εἶναι καὶ ἰδίᾳ καὶ δημοσίᾳ"
/ \ /
ἐὰν δέ τις κατά TL κακὸς γίγνηται, κολαστέος ἐστί, Kal
-“ / \ \ 3 / \
τοῦτο δεύτερον ἀγαθὸν μετὰ TO εἶναι δίκαιον, TO γίγνεσθαι
\ / / s \ “- / \
καὶ κολαζόμενον διδόναι δίκην: Kal πᾶσαν κολακείαν Kal
\ \ \ \ »Μ \ \
τὴν περὶ ἑαυτὸν Kal THY περὶ τοὺς ἄλλους, καὶ περὶ
᾽ / \ \ / / \ a τ cal
Ολύγους καὶ περὶ πολλούς, φευκτέον: καὶ TH ῥητορικῇ
, \ - »
οὕτω χρηστέον, ἐπὶ τὸ δίκαιον ἀεί, καὶ τῇ ἄλλῃ πάσῃ
πράξει.
THE GORGIAS MYTH 125
of the honours that are among men; and, considering Truth,
will strive earnestly after Righteousness, both to live therein
so far as I am able, and when I die, therein also to die. And
I exhort all men, so far as I am able, and thee more especially
do I exhort and entreat, to enter into this life and run this
race, which, I say unto thee, is above all the races wherein
men strive; and I tell thee, to thy shame, that thou shalt not
be able to help thyself, when the Day of Judgment whereof 1
spake cometh unto thee, but when thou dost appear before
the Judge, the son of Aegina, and he hath gotten hold of thee
to take thee, thou shalt gape and become dizzy there, even as I
do here; yea and perchance some one will smite thee on the
cheek to dishonour thee, and will utterly put thee to despite.
Perchance this shall seem to thee as an old wife’s fable,
and thou wilt despise it: well mightest thou despise it, if by
searching we could find out aught better and truer. But as
the matter standeth, thou seest that ye are three, the wisest
men of Greece living at this day, thou and Polus and Gorgias,
and ye cannot show any other life that a man must live save
this whereof I have spoken, which is plainly expedient also
for that other life; nay, of all sayings this saying alone is
not confuted, but abideth sure:—That a man must shun the
doing of wrong more than the receiving, and study above all
things not to seem, but to be, righteous in the doing of his
own business and the business of the city; and that if any
man be found evil in anything, he is to be corrected; and that
the next good thing after being righteous is to become righteous
through correction and just retribution ; and that all flattery of
himself and of other men, be they few or many, he must
eschew ; and that he must use Oratory and all other Instru-
ments of Doing, for the sake of Justice alway.
120 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
OBSERVATIONS ON THE GORGIAS MYTH
I
Here, again, as in the Phaedo Myth, it is Responsibility
which Plato represents in a picture—a picture portraying the
continuity of the Self through the series of its life-stages.
It is in the consciousness of Responsibility—of being the
cause of actions for which he takes praise and blame—
that man first becomes conscious of Self as a constant in
experience. Consciousness of an active—a responsible, or
moral Self, is formally prior to consciousness of a passive,
sensitive, Self realised as the one mirror in which sense-
impressions are successively reflected. Thus, the Gorgias
Myth gives a strictly natural representation of the Idea of
Soul, when it sets forth, in a vision of Judgment, Penance,
and Purification, the continuity and sameness of the active, as
distinguished from the passive—of the responsible or moral,
as distinguished from the sensitive Self. It is only in vision
—in Myth—and not scientifically, that the Idea of Soul, or
Subject, can be represented, or held up to contemplation as
an Object at all; and it is best represented, that is, in the
manner most suitable, not only to our consciousness of respon-
sibility, but to our hope and fear, if it is represented in a
vision of Judgment and Penance and Purification, where the
departed are not the passive victims of vengeance, Tiuwpia,
but actively develop their native powers under the discipline
of correction, κόλασις. In such a vision it is consciousness
of wrong done and fear (that fear mentioned by Cephalus in
the Republic)* which conjure up the spectacle of punishment ;
but hope, springing from the sense of personal endeavour after
the good, speaks comfortably to the heart, and says, “If only
1 What we call sin
I could believe a painful opening out
Of paths for ampler virtue.
CLouGH, Dipsychus.
O felix culpa, quae talem ac tantum
Meruit habere Redemptorem !
Easter hymn quoted by Leibniz, Théodicée, p. 507, ed. Erdmann.
2 380k.
THE GORGIAS MYTH 12
-.᾿
ἂν man will strive steadfastly to overcome evil passions in this
life, and in future lives, all will be well with him in the end.
The very punishment which he fears will be for his ultimate
good, for punishment regards the future which can still be
modified, not the past which cannot be undone.” Pardon—
for so we may bring home to ourselves the deeper meaning of
Plato’s «d@apois—Pardon is thus involved in Punishment.
This is a thought which cannot be set forth by the way of
Science. Pardon is not found in the realm of Nature which
Science describes. It “comes of the Grace of God.” It is
received under another dispensation than that of Nature—a
dispensation under which a man comes by “ Faith ”—Faith
which Science can only chill, but Myth may confirm. Χρὴ
τὰ τοιαῦτα ὥσπερ ἐπάδειν ἑαυτῷ.
Besides containing this notable theory of Punishment
and Pardon, the Gorgias Myth is remarkable for its power-
ful imaginative rendering of the wonder with which man
regards death—a rendering which is best taken side by side
with another given in the Cratylus, 403, 4. Hades, Αἵδης,
the God of Death, Socrates says in the Cratylus, is not called,
as most people in their fear suppose, ἀπὸ τοῦ devdods—he is
not the terrible Unseen One, who keeps the Dead in Hell,
against their will, bound in the fetters of necessity. He is
rather called ἀπὸ τοῦ πάντα τὰ καλὰ eidévac—he is the
All-wise, the Philosopher, who, indeed, holds the Dead in
fetters, but not against their will; for his fetters are those of
that desire which, in disembodied souls, is stronger than
necessity—the desire of knowledge. The Dead cleave to
Hades as disciples cleave to a great master of wisdom. The
wisest of men go to learn of him, and will not return from
his companionship. He charms the charmers themselves—
the Sirens '—so that they will not leave him. He is rightly
1 The Sirens, although they became eventually simply Muses, were originally
Chthonian deities, and as such are sculptured on tombs and painted on lekythi:
see Miss Harrison’s Myths of the Odyssey, pp. 156-166; her Mythology and
Monuments of Ancient Athens, pp. 582 ff.; and her article in J.H.S. vol. vi.
pp. 19 ff. (‘‘Odysseus and the Sirens— Dionysiac Boat-races—Cylix of
Nicosthenes’’), 1885. ‘‘As monuments on tombs, the Sirens,” writes Miss
Harrison (Myth. and Mon. p. 584), ‘‘seem to have filled a double function ;
they were sweet singers, fit to be set on the grave of poet or orator, and they
were mourners to lament for the beauty of youth and maiden. It is somewhat
curious that they are never sculptured on Attic tombs in the one function that
makes their relation to death clearly intelligible—z.e. that of death-angels. The
128 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
called Pluto, because he has the true riches—wisdom. Here
we have what is really a Myth offered in satisfaction of the
deep wonder with which man regards that undiscovered
country from whose bourn no traveller returns. Plato
appeals openly to the “science of etymology” in support
of his “myth,” and, I would suggest, also appeals tacitly to
traditional cultus :—Hades communicates true oracles to those
who go down into his cave to sleep the sleep of death—truer
oracles than those dreams which Trophonius sends to the
living who sleep in his cave at Lebadia.* It is only with the
disembodied soul that Hades will hold his dialectic, for only
the disembodied soul, freed from the distractions of the bodily
passions, can experience that invincible desire of knowledge,
that ἔρως without which διαλεκτική is vain, which makes
the learner leave all and cleave to his Teacher. In this, that
he will hold converse only with the disembodied soul, Hades
declares himself the true Philosopher. It is at this point
that the connection appears between the Cratylus Myth—for
we may call it a Myth—and the Gorgias Myth. The judges
in the Gorgias Myth are naked souls (the phrase ἡ ψυχὴ
γυμνὴ τοῦ σώματος occurs also in Cratylus, 403 B)—naked
souls, without blindness or bias of the flesh, which see naked
souls through and through, and pass true judgment upon
them—
There must be wisdom with Great Death :
The dead shall look me thro’ and thro’.
The wondering thought, that death may perhaps solve the
enigma of life, has never been more impressively rendered
than in these twin Myths of the Philosopher Death and the
Dead Judges of the Dead.
Siren of the Attic graves must surely be somehow connected with the bird death-
angels that appear on the Harpy tomb, but her function as such seems to have
been usurped for Attica by the male angels Death and Sleep.”
Eriuna’s epitaph—
στᾶλαι, καὶ Σειρῆνες ἐμαί, καὶ πένθιμε κρωσσέ,
ὅστις ἔχεις ᾿Αΐδα τὰν ὀλίγαν σποδιάν----
brings the Sirens and Hades into connection just as Crat. 408 ἢ) ἀο68---διὰ ταῦτα
dpa φῶμεν, ὦ Ἑρμόγενες, οὐδένα δεῦρο ἐθελῆσαι ἀπελθεῖν τῶν ἐκεῖθεν, οὐδὲ αὐτὰς
τὰς Σειρῆνας, ἀλλὰ κατακεκλῆσθαι ἐκείνας τε καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους πάντας" οὕτω καλούς
τινας, ὡς ἔοικεν, ἐπίσταται λόγους λέγειν ὁ “Αιἰδης. According to Mr. J. P. Post-
gate (Journal of Philology, ix. pp. 109 ff., ‘* A Philological Examination of the
Myth of the Sirens”’), they are singing birds=souls winged for flight hence.
1 Cf. Rohde, Psyche, i. 115 ff.
THE GORGIAS MYTH 129
[]
Another point, and I have done with the “ Philosophy ”
of the Gorgias Myth. 1 am anxious to have done with it,
because I know that the “Philosophy of a Myth” too easily
becomes “the dogmatic teaching which it covertly conveys” ;
but I trust that in the foregoing remarks I have avoided, and
in the following remarks shall continue to avoid, the error of
treating a Myth as if it were an Allegory. ‘The point is this.
The ineurably wicked who suffer eternal punishment are
mostly tyrants—men like Archelaus and Tantalus, who had
the opportunity of committing the greatest crimes, and used
it. All praise to the few who had the opportunity and did
not use it. But Thersites, a mere private offender, no poet
has ever condemned to eternal punishment. He had not the
opportunity of committing the greatest crimes, and in this is
happier than those offenders who had. Here a mystery is set
forth. The man who has the opportunity of committing the
greatest crimes, and yields to the special temptation to which
he is exposed, is held worthy of eternal damnation, which is
escaped by the offender who has it not in his power, and has
never been effectively tempted, to commit such crimes. First,
the greatness of the crime is estimated as if it were a mere
quantity standing in no relation to the quality of the agent;
and then the quality of the agent is determined by the
quantity of the crime; so that vice with large opportunity
comes out as infinitely worse than vice with narrow ‘oppor-
tunity, the former receiving eternal punishment, the latter
suffering correction only for a limited time. This mystery of
the infinite difference between vice with large opportunity and
vice with narrow opportunity—the mystery which is set forth
in “lead us not into temptation ””—this mystery is set forth
by Plato in the Gorgias Myth as a mystery, without any
attempt at explanation: “Men born to great power do not
start with the same chance of ultimate salvation as men born
to private stations.” With that the Gorgias Myth leaves us.
In the Vision of Er, however, an explanation is offered—but
still the explanation, no less than the mystery to be explained,
is mythically set forth—not to satisfy the understanding, but
K
130 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
to give relief to feeling in imaginative expression. The
explanation offered in the Vision of Er is that the Soul, before
each incarnation, is free, within certain limits, to choose, and
as a matter of fact does choose, its station in life—whether it
be the station of a tyrant with large opportunity of doing
evil, or that of a private person with narrow opportunity. In
this way the mystery of the Gorgias Myth is “ explained ”—
explained by another Myth.
So much for the “ Philosophy” of the Gorgias Myth—so
much for the great problems raised in it. Now let me add a
few notes on some other points, for the better appreciation of
the Myth itself as concrete product of creative imagination.
III
The judged are marked (Gorg. 526 B) as “corrigible” or
“incorrigible.” So, too, in the Myth of Er (Rep. 614 Cc)
those sent to Heaven have tablets fixed in front, those sent to
Tartarus tablets fixed behind, on which their deeds and
sentences are recorded. The idea of tablets may have been
derived from the Orphic custom of placing in the graves of
the dead tablets describing the way to be taken and the
things to be done on the journey through the other world.’
Before Dante enters Purgatory the Angel at the Gate
marks him with “seven P’s, to denote the seven sins ( peccata)
of which he was to be cleansed in his passage through
Purgatory ’—
Seven times
The letter that denotes the inward stain
He on my forehead, with the blunted point
Of his drawn sword, inscribed. And “ Look,” he cried,
“When entered, that thou wash these scars away.” 5
The judgment-seat of Minos, Rhadamanthys, and Aeacus
is ἐν τῷ λειμῶνι, ἐν τῇ τριόδῳ, ἐξ ἧς φέρετον τὼ 0d, ἡ
! See Comparetti, J. H. S. iii. 111, and Dieterich, Nekyia, 85, on the gold
tablets of Thurii and Petelia; and cf. p. 156 ff. infra. The Orphic custom
itself may have come from Egypt, where texts from the Book of the Dead were
buried with the corpse. The Book of the Dead was a guide-book for the Ka, or
Double, which is apt to wander from the body and lose its way. See Jevons’
Introduction to the History of Religion, p. 323, and Flinders Petrie’s Zgyptian
Tales, second series, p. 124.
2 Purg. ix. 101, and see Cary’s note ad loc,
THE GORGIAS MYTH 12]
μὲν εἰς μακάρων νήσους, ἡ δ᾽ εἰς Τάρταρον (Gorg. 524 A).
The topography of this passage corresponds with that of Ζέρρ.
614 ὁ ff, where, however, it is added that the λειμών of the
judgment-seat is also the spot in which the souls, returned
from their thousand years’ sojourn in Tartarus and Heaven
(i.e. the Islands of the Blessed), meet, and rest, before going
on to the place where they choose their new lives before
drinking of the water of Lethe. In the Gorgias the two
ways mentioned are (1) that to Tartarus, and (2) that to the
Islands of the Blessed; and the λειμών of judgment is “ at
the parting of the ways” —év τῇ tprddm,—no reference being
made to a third way leading to the throne of Necessity, and
thence to the Plain of Lethe. In the parallel passage in
Rep. 614 c ff. the ways are not mentioned as three; but
they are three—(1) the way to Tartarus, (2) the way to
Heaven, and (3) the way to the Plain of Lethe—all three
diverging from the λειμών.
The “ Three Ways,” as indicated in the Myth of Er,—one
to Tartarus, one to Heaven, and the third to Lethe (a river of
the surface of the EKarth)—constantly occur in the literature
which reflects Orphic influence.’ They even appear in the
folk-lore represented by the story of Thomas the Rhymer :—
Light down, light down now, true Thomas,
And lean your head upon my knee:
Abide, and rest a little space,
And I will show you ferlies three.
Oh see ye not yon narrow road,
So thick beset wi’ thorns and briars ?
That is the path of righteousness,
Though after it but few inquires.
And see not ye that braid braid road,
That lies across the lily leven ?
That is the path of wickedness,
Though some call it the road to Heaven.
And see not ye that bonny road,
That winds about the fernie brae ?
That is the road to fair Elf-land,
Where thou and I this night maun gae.
‘ See Dieterich, Nekyia, 89, 90, and especially Rohde, Psy. ii. 221, note.
132 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
The three parts of the Divina Commedia correspond, in
the main, to the “Three Ways.” The theological doctrine of
Purgatory, to which Dante gives such noble imaginative
expression, is alien to the Hebrew spirit, and came to the
Church mainly from the Platonic doctrine of κάθαρσις----
especially as the doctrine found expression in Eschatological
Myths reflecting Orphic teaching.’
We come now to the Myth of Er (Rep. 614 α ff), the
greatest of Plato’s Eschatological Myths, whether the fulness
of its matter or the splendour of its form be considered.
1 See Thompson’s note on Gorg. 525 8.
THE MYTH OF ER IN THE REPUBLIC
CONTEXT
Tuk subject of the Republic is Justice—that character in the
individual which manifests itself in the steady performance
of Duty—Duty being what a man does for the maintenance of
a certain Type of Social Life, the good of which he has been
educated to identify with his own good.
What, then, is this Type of Social Life, in living for which
a man does his Duty and finds his true Happiness ?
The Republic is mainly concerned with the description of
ait, and of the Education which fits men for it; and as the
Dialogue proceeds, the reader, who enters into the feelings of the
dramatis personae, becomes, with them, more and more con-
winced that true Happiness, in this world, is to be found only
in the steady performance of Duty in and for a State ordered
according to the spirit, if not according to the letter, of the
Constitution described by Socrates. In this world, certainly,
the man who does his Duty, as Socrates defines it, has his great
reward. He is 729 times happier than the man who, despising
the law of Duty, has fallen under the tyranny of Pleasure.
But a greater reward awaits the Righteous man, and
greater torments are prepared for the Unrighteous man, in the
world to come. or the Soul is immortal ; and an ontological
proof of its immortality is given.
Then, as though this proof were insufficient, the Republic
ends with the Myth of Er (told by Socrates), which proves,
indeed, nothing for the Understanding, but visualises, for the
Imagination, the hope of the Heart.
\ 133
134 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Republic 613 E-621D
« / ς ᾽ , an ω A
‘A μὲν τοίνυν, Wv δ᾽ ἐγώ, ζῶντι τῷ δικαίῳ παρὰ θεῶν
614 Te καὶ ἀνθρώπων ἄθλά τε καὶ μισθοὶ καὶ δῶρα γίγνεται
\ > / A > a > \ e
πρὸς ἐκείνοις τοῖς ἀγαθοῖς οἷς αὐτὴ παρείχετο ἡ δικαιο-
σύνη, τοιαῦτ᾽ ἂν εἴη. Καὶ μάλ᾽, ἔφη, καλά τε καὶ βέβαια.
lal >
Ταῦτα τοίνυν, ἣν & ἐγώ, οὐδέν ἐστι πλήθει οὐδὲ μεγέθει
Ν 3 an A / e / / \ > > \
πρὸς ἐκεῖνα, ἃ τελευτήσαντα ἑκάτερον περιμένει. χρὴ δ᾽ αὐτὰ
> a “ 7 ae 3. ὙᾺ > / ee A
ἀκοῦσαι, ἵνα τελέως ἑκάτερος αὐτῶν ἀπειλήφῃ τὰ ὑπὸ τοῦ
/ κ
λόγου ὀφειλόμενα ἀκοῦσαι. Λέγοις ἄν, ἔφη, ὡς οὐ πολλὰ
’ ,
Β ἄλλ᾽ ἥδιον ἀκούοντι. ᾿Αλλ᾽ ov μέντοι σοι, ἦν δ᾽ ἐγώ, ᾿Αλκί-
/ a a
vou γε ἀπόλογον ἐρῶ, ἀλλ᾽ ἀλκίμου μὲν ἀνδρός, Ἢρὸς τοῦ
᾿Αρμενίου, τὸ γένος Παμφύλου' ὅς ποτε ἐν πολέμῳ τελευ-
τήσας, ἀναιρεθέντων δεκαταίων τῶν νεκρῶν ἤδη διεφθαρ-
’
μένων, ὑγιὴς μὲν ἀνῃρέθη, κομισθεὶς δ᾽ οἴκαδε μέλλων
θάπτεσθαι, δωδεκαταῖος ἐπὶ τῇ πυρᾷ κείμενος ἀνεβίω,
᾽ lol lal
ἀναβιοὺς δ᾽ ἔλεγεν ἃ ἐκεῖ ἴδοι. ἔφη δέ, ἐπειδὴ οὗ ἐκβῆναι
στὴν ψυχήν, πορεύεσθαι μετὰ πολλῶν, καὶ ἀφικνεῖσθαι σφᾶς
; / \ / , Φ a a 4? 7
εἰς τόπον τινὰ δαιμόνιον, ἐν ᾧ τῆς τε γῆς δύ εἶναι χάσματε
> / > / \ “A > a — , “A Μ Μ
ἐχομένω ἀλλήλοιν καὶ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ αὖ ἐν τῷ ἄνω ἄλλα
/ \ \ \ ’ a “
καταντικρύ. δικαστὰς δὲ μεταξὺ τούτων καθῆσθαι, ods,
> \ / \ \ / ’ /
ἐπειδὴ διαδικάσειαν, τοὺς μὲν δικαίους κελεύειν πορεΐεσθαι
\ ᾽ 7 \ Μ a ᾽ A a U
τὴν eis δεξιάν τε Kal ἄνω διὰ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ, σημεῖα περιά-
- 7 , 7 / 4 » ,
ψαντας τῶν δεδικασμένων ἐν τῷ πρόσθεν, τοὺς δὲ ἀδίκους
\ , , / \ / Μ / > A
τὴν εἰς ἀριστεράν τε Kal κάτω, ἔχοντας Kal τούτους ἐν τῷ
Ὁ ὄπισθεν σημεῖα πάντων ὧν ἔπραξαν. ἑαυτοῦ δὲ προσελ-
, - “ / FY, v > , /
θόντος εἰπεῖν, ὅτι δέοι αὐτὸν ἄγγελον ἀνθρώποις γενέσθαι
THE MYTH OF ER 135
TRANSLATION
“Of such sort, then, are the prizes and the wages and the
gifts which the just man receiveth, while he is yet alive, from
Gods and Men, over and above those good things whereof |
spake which Justice herself provideth.”
“Yea, in truth goodly gifts,” quoth he, “and exceeding
sure.”
“Well,” I said, “they are even as nothing, for number
and greatness, in comparison with those things which await
each of the two, to wit, the just man and the unjust man,
when he is dead. Of these thou must hear, that each of
them may have full payment of that which this Discourse
oweth him to be said concerning him.”
“Say on,” quoth he, “there is little else I would hear
more gladly.”
“ Nay,” said I, “but it is not a Tale of Alcinous I will tell
thee, but the story of a mighty man, Er, the son of Armenius,
of the nation of the Pamphylians.
“Tt came to pass that he fell in battle; and when the
corpses were taken up on the tenth day already stinking, he
was taken up sound; and when they had carried him home
and were about to bury him, on the twelfth day, being laid
on the pyre, he came to life again; and began to tell of the
things which he saw there.
“He said that when his Soul went out, it journeyed
together with a great company, and they came unto a certain
ghostly place wherein were two open Mouths of the Earth
hard by each other, and also above, two Mouths of the Heaven,
over against them: and Judges were seated between these,
who, when they had given their judgments, bade the righteous
take the road which leadeth to the right hand and up through
Heaven; and they fastened tablets on them in front, signify-
ing the judgments; but the unjust they sent by the road
which leadeth to the left hand and down, and they also had
tablets fastened on them behind, signifying all that they had
done. But when he himself came before the Judges they
said unto him that he must be for a messenger unto men con-
cerning the things there, and they charged him straitly that
615
136 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
an , - \ / / e , / \ a
τῶν ἐκεῖ καὶ διακελεύοιντο οἱ ἀκούειν τε Kal θεᾶσθαι
, \ ? A / ct aA δ) ΄, \ θ᾽ δι
πάντα τὰ ἐν τῷ τόπῳ. ὁρᾶν δὴ ταύτῃ μὲν καθ ἑκάτερον
\ , κ a a a /
τὸ χάσμα τοῦ οὐρανοῦ τε Kal τῆς γῆς ἀπιούσας τὰς
7 > \ > -» / \ \ \ e / > \
ψυχάς, ἐπειδὴ αὐταῖς δικασθείη, κατὰ δὲ τὼ ἑτέρω ἐκ μὲν
a a a -“ \ /
τοῦ ἀνιέναι ἐκ τῆς γῆς μεστὰς αὐχμοῦ τε Kal κόνεως, ἐκ
Ν lal e / / e / > lal > an /
δὲ τοῦ ἑτέρου καταβαίνειν ἑτέρας ἐκ Tod οὐρανοῦ καθαράς.
\ \ . Pad b] / Ὁ 5 lel /
καὶ Tas ἀεὶ ἀφικνουμένας ὥσπερ ἐκ πολλῆς πορείας
’ Ὁ \ > / > \ lal > 4
φαίνεσθαι ἥκειν, Kal ἀσμένας εἰς τὸν λειμῶνα ἀπιούῦσας
al ὔ /
οἷον ἐν πανηγύρει κατασκηνᾶσθαι, καὶ ἀσπάζεσθαί τε ἀλλή-
ee / \ / / > ipl ipl
Aas ὅσαι γνώριμαι, Kal πυνθάνεσθαι τάς TE ἐκ τῆς γῆς
ἡκούσας παρὰ τῶν ἑτέρων τὰ ἐκεῖ καὶ τὰς ἐκ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ
al / \ \
Ta παρ᾽ ἐκείναις. διηγεῖσθαι δὲ ἀλλήλαις τὰς μὲν
> / \ , > / ef \
ὀδυρομένας τε Kal κλαούσας, ἀναμιμνησκομένας, ὅσα τε καὶ
/ \ »᾽ ᾿] A ΄ Ν - ’ s \
ola πάθοιεν καὶ ἴδοιεν ἐν τῇ ὑπὸ γῆς πορεία----εἶναι δὲ
\ / = \ > 5S ᾽ rn > » > /
τὴν πορείαν χιλιετῆ---τὰς δ᾽ αὖ ἐκ Tod οὐρανοῦ εὐπαθείας
~ 5
διηγεῖσθαι καὶ θέας ἀμηχάνους τὸ κάλλος. τὰ μὲν οὖν
-» / \ ᾽
πολλά, ὦ Γλαύκων, πολλοῦ χρόνου διηγήσασθαι" τὸ ὃ
» / /
οὖν κεφάλαιον ἔφη τόδε εἶναι, ὅσα πώποτέ τινα ἠδίκησαν
\ cad " [2 \ e , / / ᾿] /
καὶ ὅσους ἕκαστοι, ὑπὲρ ἁπάντων δίκην δεδωκέναι ἐν μέρει,
ς \ e / / lal ’ ι. 7 \ e
UTEP EKATTOU δεκάκις ---τοῦτο ὃ €LVaL KATA εκατονταετῆ-
Βρίδα ἑκάστην, ws βίου ὄντος τοσούτου τοῦ avOpwrivov—,
“ , Xs ἣν A > , > ,
ἵνα δεκαπλάσιον τὸ ἔκτισμα τοῦ ἀδικήματος ἐκτίνοιεν" Kal
- , /
οἵτινες πολλῶν θανάτων ἦσαν αἴτιοι, ἢ πόλεις προδόντες ἢ
/ /
στρατόπεδα καὶ eis δουλείας ἐμβεβληκότες, ἤ τινος ἄλλης
/ / / / / > /
κακουχίας μεταίτιοι, πάντων τούτων δεκαπλασίας adyndovas
‘ /
ὑπὲρ ἑκάστου κομίσαιντο, καὶ avd εἴ Twas εὐεργεσίας
> / \ , \ Ὁ U4 3 \
εὐεργετηκότες καὶ δίκαιοι Kal ὅσιοι γεγονότες εἶεν, κατὰ
> 4 \ > / / lal \ > \ / \
ταὐτὰ τὴν ἀξίαν κομίζοιντος τῶν δὲ εὐθὺς γενομένων Kal
, ; » ΝΜ /
ὀλίγον χρόνον βιούντων πέρι ἄλλα ἔλεγεν οὐκ ἄξια μνήμης.
εἰς δὲ θεοὺς ἀσεβείας τε καὶ εὐσεβείας καὶ γονέας καὶ
αὐτόχειρας φόνου μείζους ἔτι τοὺς μισθοὺς διηγεῖτο. ἔφη
THE MYTH OF ER 137
he should give diligence to hear and see all the things in the
place,
“ Now, he told how that he beheld the Souls departing, some
by one of the Mouths of Heaven, and some by one of the Mouths
of Karth, when judgment had been given unto them; also
how that he beheld Souls returning by the other two Mouths,
some coming up from the Earth travel-stained, covered with
dust, and some coming down from Heaven, pure. And he said
that all, as they came, being come belike from a long journey,
turned aside with joy into the Meadow and encamped there
as in a Congregation; and they that were acquaintances
greeted one another, and they questioned one another—they
that were come from the Earth questioned them that were
come from Heaven concerning the things there, and in like
manner they that were come from Heaven questioned the
others concerning the things that had happened unto them.
So they discoursed with one another—some of them groaning
and weeping when they called to mind all the terrible things
they had suffered and seen in their journey under the Earth
—he said that their journey was for a thousand years; and
others of them, to wit, those which were come from Heaven,
telling of blessings and marvellous fair sights.
“Time would fail me, O Glaucon, to relate all that he said,
but the sum thereof was this :—That according to the number
of the wrongs which each man hath ever done, and the number
of them whom he hath wronged, he payeth penalty for all in
their course, ten times for each :—now, it is every hundred
years that he payeth, for a hundred years are counted for the
lifetime of a man: so is it brought to pass that the price of
evil-doing is paid tenfold: thus if certain caused the death
of many by betraying cities or armies, and casting men into
bondage, or taking part of other iniquity, they are recom-
pensed tenfold with torments for each one of these things ;
but if any have done good unto other men, and have been
just and religious, they in the same measure receive their
rewards. Also concerning infants that died as soon as they
were born, or lived but a short while, there were things he
said that are not worth remembering. As for those who dis-
honoured Gods and Parents, and those who honoured them,
and as for those that were murderers, he spake of their wages
610
138 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
\ \ / >’ / ΄ / δ Ν [4 / “
γὰρ δὴ παραγενέσθαι ἐρωτωμένῳ ἑτέρῳ ὑπὸ ἑτέρου, ὅπου
a ΄ ς χ.. Φ a a 7
εἴη ᾿Αρδιαῖος ὁ μέγας. ὁ δὲ ᾿Αρδιαῖος οὗτος τῆς Παμφυλίας
» / / ’ / ” \ Ν᾽ ᾽
ἔν τινι πόλει τύραννος ἐγεγόνει, ἤδη χιλιοστὸν ἔτος εἰς
- / ,
ἐκεῖνον τὸν χρόνον, γέροντά τε πατέρα ἀποκτείνας Kal
,ὔ ’
πρεσβύτερον ἀδελφόν, καὶ ἄλλα δὴ πολλά τε καὶ ἀνόσια
> ; ε 7 ” 2 \ ᾽ ΄ > »
εἰργασμένος, ws ἐλέγετο. ἔφη οὖν τὸν ἐρωτώμενον εἰπεῖν,
Οὐχ ἥκει, φάναι, οὐδ᾽ ἂν ἥξει δεῦρο.
> / \ 5 \ \ an -“ a /
ἐθεασάμεθα yap οὖν δὴ καὶ τοῦτο τῶν δεινῶν θεαμάτων.
᾽ \ , \ fal , 9 / > / \
ἐπειδὴ ἐγγὺς τοῦ στομίου ἦμεν μέλλοντες ἀνιέναι καὶ
/ “- ἔς /
τἄλλα πάντα πεπονθότες, Exeivov τε κατείδομεν ἐξαίφνης
\ »' / > lal \ / /
Kal ἄλλους σχεδὸν TL αὐτῶν τοὺς πλείστους τυράννους"
3 \ \ > a , κ 7 ς / A
ἦσαν δὲ καὶ ἰδιῶταί τινες τῶν μεγάλα ἡμαρτηκότων" OVS
’ὔ »
οἰομένους ἤδη ἀναβήσεσθαι οὐκ ἐδέχετο τὸ στόμιον, ἀλλ,
al id , -“ ’ /
ἐμυκᾶτο, ὁπότε τις τῶν οὕτως ἀνιάτως ἐχόντων εἰς πονηρίαν
ἃ \ e - \ / ᾿] a > / > lal ὃ)
ἢ μὴ ἱκανῶς δεδωκὼς δίκην ἐπιχειροῖ ἀνιέναι. ἐνταῦθα δὴ
ἄνδρες, ἔφη, ἄγριοι, διάπυροι ἰδεῖν, παρεστῶτες καὶ κατα-
\ / \ \
μανθάνοντες TO φθέγμα, τοὺς μὲν διαλαβόντες ἦγον, τὸν δὲ
, A A /
Αρδιαῖον καὶ ἄλλους συμποδίσαντες χεῖράς τε Kal πόδας
/ \
καὶ κεφαλήν, καταβαλόντες καὶ ἐκδείραντες, εἷλκον παρὰ
\ τῶν > \ ἘΝῚ, Ε] 7 / \ a ee
τὴν ὁδὸν ἐκτὸς ἐπ ἀσπαλάθων κνάπτοντες, Kal τοῖς ἀεὶ
-" a \
παριοῦσι σημαίνοντες, ὧν ἕνεκά TE ταῦτα ὑπομένοιεν ἡ καὶ
“ ᾽ \ ᾿ ᾽ / » Μ \
ὅτι εἰς τὸν Τάρταρον ἐμπεσούμενοι ayowto. ἔνθα δὴ
/ » na , /
φόβων, ἔφη, πολλῶν καὶ παντοδαπῶν σφίσι γεγονότων
- / \ 7 \
τοῦτον ὑπερβάλλειν τὸν φόβον, μὴ γένοιτο ἑκάστῳ TO
7
φθέγμα, ὅτε avaBaivor, καὶ ἀσμενέστατα ἕκαστον συγήσαντος
τ /
ἀναβῆναι. καὶ tas μὲν δὴ δίκας τε Kal τιμωρίας τοιαύτας
/
τινὰς εἶναι, καὶ av τὰς εὐεργεσίας ταύταις ἀντιστρόφους"
᾽ \ \ - ᾽ al a c , c ς /
ἐπειδὴ δὲ τοῖς ἐν τῷ λειμῶνι ἑκάστοις ἑπτὰ ἡμέραι
/ > / ᾽ an - lal , ’ 4
γένοιντο, ἀναστάντας ἐντεῦθεν δεῖν τῇ ὀγδόῃ πορεύεσθαι,
»" “ Μ
καὶ ἀφικνεῖσθαι τεταρταίους ὅθεν καθορᾶν ἄνωθεν διὰ
na “- a /
παντὸς τοῦ οὐρανοῦ Kal γῆς τεταμένον φῶς εὐθύ, οἷον
, ~ » /
κίονα, μάλιστα τῇ ἴριδι προσφερῆ, λαμπρότερον δὲ καὶ
, / 7 ε /
καθαρώτερον. εἰς ὃ ἀφικέσθαι προελθόντας ἡμερησίαν ὁδόν,
a \ ω lal > a
ο καὶ ἰδεῖν αὐτόθι κατὰ μέσον τὸ φῶς ἐκ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ τὰ
| ταῦτα ὑπομένοιεν om.
THE MYTH OF ER 139
as even greater; for he said that he stood beside one of whom
another inquired, Where Ardiaeus the Great was. Now this
Ardiaeus had made himself King in a city of Pamphylha just a
thousand years before that time, having slain the old man his
father, and his elder brother, and having wrought many other
evil deeds, as men tell. He said, then, that the one of whom
inquiry was made answered saying, He is not come; nor will
he ever come hither—for this, indeed, was one of the terrible
things that we beheld when we were nigh unto the Mouth,
and about to go up after all our sufferings; on the sudden we
came in sight of him, and others, most of them kings, but
there were also private men of those that had sinned greatly
amongst them: these, thinking that they were already about
to go up, the Mouth received not, but bellowed; for it
belloweth as often as any one of those that are wicked beyond
cure like unto these, or any one that hath not paid the full
price of his sins, essayeth to go up. In that place he said
men were standing by—savage men, as coals of fire to look
upon—who, hearing and understanding the Voice of the Mouth,
took hold of some in their arms and carried them away; but
Ardiaeus and others they bound hand and foot and neck, and
threw down, and flayed, and dragged to a place apart by the
side of the way, and there carded them on thorns, signifying
to all that passed by wherefore they were taken, and that
they should be cast into Tartarus. Then, he said, there came
upon him and his companions a fear greater than all the fears
of every sort they had before; for each one of them feared lest
the Voice should be for himself when he went up: and with
great joy did each one go up when the Voice kept silence.
“ Of such kind, then, were the judgments and the punish-
ments; and there were blessings that answered unto them.
“ Now, when both companies had been seven days in the
Meadow, Er said that they were constrained, on the eighth
day, to arise and journey thence, and came on the fourth day
to a place whence they could behold a Straight Light ex-
tended from above through the whole Heaven and Earth, as
it were a pillar, for colour most like unto the rainbow, but
brighter and purer. Unto which they came when they had
gone forward a day’s journey, and there, at the middle part of
the Light, beheld extended from the Heaven the ends of the
140 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
a - A \ la \ lal
ἄκρα αὐτοῦ τῶν δεσμῶν τεταμένα" εἶναι yap τοῦτο TO φῶς
“- a lal /
ξύνδεσμον τοῦ οὐρανοῦ, οἷον τὰ ὑποζώματα τῶν τριήρων,
aA \ \ Les ΝΜ
οὕτω πᾶσαν ξυνέχον τὴν περιφοράν: ἐκ δὲ τῶν ἄκρων
, ᾽
τεταμένον ᾿Ανώγκης ἄτρακτον, δι οὗ πάσας ἐπιστρέφεσθαι
΄, Ν
τὰς περιφοράς" οὗ τὴν μὲν ἠλακάτην τε καὶ τὸ ἄγκιστρον
- ᾽ Ὁ, \ \ , \ » 7
εἶναι ἐξ ἀδάμαντος, τὸν δὲ σφόνδυλον μικτὸν ἔκ τε τούτου
a \ fal / / s
Deal ἄλλων γενῶν. τὴν δὲ τοῦ σφονδύλου φύσιν εἶναι
A 7 n n \
Tovavoe’ TO μὲν σχῆμα οἵαπερ ἡ τοῦ ἐνθάδε: νοῆσαι δὲ
a 5 φ » / ; ae “ 4 x > > | ae
δεῖ ἐξ ὧν ἔλεγε τοιόνδε αὐτὸν εἶναι, ὥσπερ ἂν εἰ ἐν ἑνὶ
, , 4 \ ”
μεγάλῳ σφονδύλῳ κοίλῳ καὶ ἐξεγχλυμμένῳ διαμπερὲς ἄλλος
an / / e
τοιοῦτος ἐλάττων ἐγκέοιτο ἁρμόττων, καθάπερ οἱ κάδοι οἱ
> > / € / \ e/ \ / ” \
εἰς ἀλλήλους ἁρμόττοντες" καὶ οὕτω δὴ τρίτον ἄλλον καὶ
‘ > \ s \
τέταρτον καὶ ἄλλους τέτταρας. ὀκτὼ γὰρ εἶναι τοὺς
, / 4
ξύμπαντας σφονδύλους, ἐν ἀλλήλοις ἐγκειμένους, κύκλους
» Ν , / “ \ α. 5 4
Ε ἄνωθεν τὰ χείλη φαίνοντας, νῶτον συνεχὲς ἑνὸς σφονδύλου
Ν \ /
ἀπεργαζομένους περὶ τὴν ἠλακάτην' ἐκείνην δὲ διὰ μέσου
- / \ \ -»" ,ὔ
τοῦ ὀγδόου διαμπερὲς ἐληλάσθαι. τὸν μὲν οὖν πρῶτόν τε
/ \ fa) ,
καὶ ἐξωτάτω σφόνδυλον πλατύτατον τὸν TOD χείλους κύκλον
5 a / \ \ a
ἔχειν, Tov δὲ τοῦ ἕκτου δεύτερον, τρίτον δὲ τὸν τοῦ
\ lal / / \ \ -“
τετάρτου, τέταρτον δὲ τὸν τοῦ ὀγδόου, πέμπτον δὲ τὸν τοῦ
e ὉΠ “ \ \ a / “ \ \ lal
ἑβδόμου, ἕκτον δὲ τὸν Tod πέμπτου, ἕβδομον δὲ τὸν τοῦ
a / \ \ a
τρίτου, ὄγδοον δὲ τὸν τοῦ SevTépov' καὶ τὸν μὲν τοῦ
/ / Ν \ la id / / \
μεγίστου ποικίλον, τὸν δὲ τοῦ ἑβδόμου λαμπρότατον, τὸν
- / "»“ fal / ΝΜ
611 δὲ τοῦ ὀγδόου τὸ χρῶμα ἀπὸ τοῦ ἑβδόμου ἔχειν προσ-
\ an /
λάμποντος, τὸν δὲ Tod δευτέρου Kal πέμπτου παραπλήσια
᾽ / / > , / \ / a
ἀλλήλοις, EavOotepa ἐκείνων, τρίτον δὲ λευκότατον χρῶμα
5) ΄ \ / \
ἔχειν, τέταρτον δὲ ὑπέρυθρον, δεύτερον δὲ λευκότητι τὸν
e a \ \ / \
ἕκτον ὑπερβάλλειν. κυκλεῖσθαι δὲ δὴ στρεφόμενον τὸν
ΝΜ “ Ν \ > \ / > \ A Ὁ
ἄτρακτον ὅλον μὲν τὴν αὐτὴν φοράν, ἐν δὲ τῷ ὅλῳ
Ν / \ /
περιφερομένῳ τοὺς μὲν ἐντὸς ἑπτὰ κύκλους τὴν ἐναντίαν
“᾿ς - / / \
TO ὅλῳ ἠρέμα περιφέρεσθαι, αὐτῶν δὲ τούτων τάχιστα μὲν
hed \ v / \ \ ωῳ > / /
Biévat τὸν ὄγδοον, δευτέρους δὲ Kal ἅμα ἀλλήλοις τὸν τε
΄ \ “ \ / \ / Sy Ae
ἕβδομον καὶ ἕκτον καὶ πέμπτον: τὸν τρίτον δὲ φορᾷ ἰέναι,
΄ ᾽ / \ /
ὡς σφίσι φαίνεσθαι, ἐπανακυκλούμενον τὸν τέταρτον"
/ \ /
τέταρτον δὲ τὸν τρίτον καὶ πέμπτον τὸν δεύτερον"
/ \ ee > a κ ᾽ / / > i
στρέφεσθαι δὲ αὐτὸν ἐν τοῖς τῆς ᾿Ανάγκης γόνασιν. ἐπ
‘ 5 4 > a » >? « / /
δὲ τῶν κύκλων αὐτοῦ ἄνωθεν ἐφ᾽ ἑκάστου βεβηκέναι
- \ / ta /
Σειρῆνα συμπεριφερομένην, φωνὴν μίαν ἱεῖσαν, ἕνα τόνον"
᾽ ε J \ » a / e , a ”
ἐκ πασῶν δὲ ὀκτὼ οὐσῶν μίαν ἁρμονίαν ξυμφωνεῖν. ἄλλας
THE MYTH OF ER 141
bonds thereof: for this Light is that which bindeth the
Heavens together; as the under-girths hold together ships
so doth it hold together the whole round of Heaven; and
from the ends extendeth the Spindle of Necessity, which
causeth all the heavenly revolutions, whereof the shaft and
hook are of adamant, and the whorl is of adamant and of
other substances therewith.
“ Now, the whorl is after this fashion. In shape it is as
one of our whorls, but from what he said we must conceive of
it as a great whorl, carved hollow through and through, where-
in is set, fitting it, a smaller whorl of like kind, as caskets are
set fitting into one another; and then in this a third whorl is
set, and then a fourth, and then four others; for the whorls
are together eight, set one within another, showing their lips
as circles above, and making thus the even continued outside
of one whorl round about the shaft; and the shaft is driven
right through the middle of the eighth whorl.
“The first and outermost whorl hath the circle of its lip
the broadest; the circle of the sixth is second for breadth ;
the circle of the fourth is third; the circle of the eighth is
fourth; the circle of the seventh is fifth; the circle of the
fifth is sixth; the circle of the third is seventh; the circle of
the second is eighth. And the circle of the greatest is of
many colours; the circle of the seventh is brightest; the
circle of the eighth hath its colour from the seventh which
shineth upon it; the circles of the second and fifth are lke
unto each other, being ruddier than the rest; the third hath
the whitest colour; the fourth is pale red; and the sixth is
second for whiteness.
“The spindle turneth round wholly with one motion; but
of the whole that turneth round the seven circles within turn
slowly contrary to the whole: and of these the eighth goeth
swiftest ; next, and together, go the seventh and the sixth and
the fifth; third in swiftness goeth the fourth; fourth, the
third; and fifth, the second.
“ And the whole spindle goeth round in the lap of Necessity.
“ Aloft upon each of the circles of the spindle is mounted a
Siren; which goeth round with her circle, uttering one note
at one pitch; and the notes of all the eight together do make
one melody.
142 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
c δὲ καθημένας πέριξ δι ἴσου τρεῖς, ἐν θρόνῳ ἑκάστην,
D
θυγατέρας τῆς ᾿Ανάγκης, Μοίρας, λευχειμονούσας, στέμματα
ἐπὶ τῶν κεφαλῶν ἐχούσας, Λάχεσίν τε καὶ Κλωθὼ καὶ
ἼΛτροπον, ὑμνεῖν πρὸς τὴν τῶν Σειρήνων ἁρμονίαν, Λάχεσιν
μὲν τὰ γεγονότα, Κλωθὼ δὲ τὰ ὄντα, ΓΑτροπον δὲ τὰ
μέλλοντα. καὶ τὴν μὲν Κλωθὼ τῇ δεξιᾷ χειρὶ ἐφαπτομένην
συνεπιστρέφειν τοῦ ἀτράκτου τὴν ἔξω περιφοράν, διαλεί-
πουσαν χρόνον, τὴν δὲ "Ατροπον τῇ ἀριστερᾷ τὰς ἐντὸς
αὖ ὡσαύτως: τὴν δὲ Λάχεσιν ἐν μέρει ἑκατέρας ἑκατέρᾳ τῇ
χειρὶ ἐφάπτεσθαι.
σφᾶς οὖν, ἐπειδὴ ἀφικέσθαι, εὐθὺς δεῖν ἰέναι πρὸς τὴν
Λάχεσιν. προφήτην οὖν τινὰ σφᾶς πρῶτον μὲν ἐν τάξει
διαστῆσαι, ἔπειτα λαβόντα ἐκ τῶν τῆς Λαχέσεως γονάτων
κλήρους τε καὶ βίων παραδείγματα, ἀναβάντα ἐπί τι βῆμα
ὑψηλὸν εἰπεῖν: ᾿Ανάγκης θυγατρὸς κόρης Λαχέσεως λόγος.
Ψυχαὶ ἐφήμεροι, ἀρχὴ ἄλλης περιόδου θνητοῦ γένους
Ἑ θανατηφόρου. οὐχ ὑμᾶς δαίμων λήξεται, ἀλλ᾽’ ὑμεῖς
618
/ Coe a Pe \ a e /
δαίμονα αἱρήσεσθε. πρῶτος δ᾽ ὁ λαχὼν πρῶτος αἱρείσθω
/ ? / > > / > \ \ > /
βίον, ᾧ συνέσται ἐξ ἀνάγκης. ἀρετὴ δὲ ἀδέσποτον, ἣν
ε \ b] / / \ » a “ “
τιμῶν καὶ ἀτιμάζων πλέον καὶ ἔλαττον αὐτῆς ἕκαστος ἕξει.
r / an
αἰτία ἑλομένου: θεὸς ἀναίτιος. Ταῦτα εἰπόντα ῥῖψαι ἐπὶ
/ \ / \ \ ’ ig \ / “
πάντας τοὺς κλήρους, τὸν δὲ παρ᾽ αὑτὸν πεσόντα ἕκαστον
ἀναιρεῖσθαι, πλὴν οὗ: δὲ οὐκ ἐᾶν: τῷ δὲ ἀνελομένῳ
“-. et / r
δῆλον εἶναι, ὁπόστος εἰλήχειν' μετὰ δὲ τοῦτο αὖθις τὰ
- / \ / a a
τῶν βίων παραδείγματα eis τὸ πρόσθεν σφῶν θεῖναι ἐπὶ
A rn /
τὴν γῆν, πολὺ πλείω τῶν παρόντων. εἶναι δὲ παντοδαπά"
, \ , / \ \ \ \ > /
ζώων τε yap πάντων βίους καὶ δὴ Kal τοὺς ἀνθρωπίνους
ad / \ b] » -“ \
ἅπαντας. τυραννίδας τε yap ἐν αὐτοῖς εἶναι, τὰς μὲν
διατελεῖς, τὰς δὲ καὶ μεταξὺ διαφθειρομένας καὶ εἰς πενίας
\ 4 \ , / , > \ \
te καὶ φυγὰς καὶ εἰς πτωχείας τελευτώσας" εἶναι δὲ Kal
δοκίμων ἀνδρῶν βίους, τοὺς μὲν ἐπὶ εἴδεσι καὶ κατὰ κάλλη
THE MYTH OF ER 143
“Round about are three others seated at equal distances
apart, each upon a throne: these be the Daughters of Necessity,
the Fates, Lachesis, and Clotho, and Atropos. They are
clothed in white raiment and have garlands on their heads ;
and they chant to the melody of the Sirens; Lachesis chanteth
of the things that have been, and Clotho of the things that
are, and Atropos of the things that shall be: and Clotho with
her right hand ever and anon taketh hold of the outer round
of the spindle, and helpeth to turn it; and Atropos with her
left hand doeth the same with the inner rounds; and Lachesis
with either hand taketh hold of outer and inner alternately.’
“ Now he said that when they were come, it behoved them
straightway to go unto Lachesis. Wherefore a Prophet did
first marshal them in order; and then having taken lots out
of the lap of Lachesis and Ensamples of Lives, went up into a
high pulpit and said: Thus saith Necessity’s Daughter, Maid
Lachesis—Souls of a day, now beginneth another course of
earthly life which bringeth death. For you your Angels will
not cast lots, to get you, but each one of you shall choose his
Angel. Let him to whom falleth the first turn, first choose
the Life unto which he shall be bound of necessity. But
Virtue hath no master. As a man honoureth her and dis-
honoureth her, so shall he have more of her and less). He who
hath chosen shall answer for it. God is not answerable.
“Er said that when the Prophet had spoken these words, he
threw the lots unto all, and each took up the lot which fell
beside him, save only himself; for the Prophet suffered him
not.
“ Now when each had taken up his lot, it was plain what
number he had gotten. Thereafter the Prophet laid on the
ground before them the Ensamples of Lives, far more than for
the persons there. Now these Ensamples were of all sorts:
there were Lives of all kinds of creatures, and moreover of all
conditions of men; for there were kingships among them,
some that lasted for a whole lifetime, and some on the way
to downfall, and ending with poverty and flight and beggary.
Also there were Lives of men renowned, some of them for
1 T.e., as Mr. Adam explains (note on 617 ©, D), she lays hold of outer (the
circle of the Same) and inner (the circle of the Other) in turn, using her right
hand for the former, and her left for the latter.
144 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
\ \ Μ > / \ > 7 \ = > ὶ /
Βκαὶ τὴν ἄλλην ἰσχύν TE καὶ ἀγωνίαν, τοὺς ἐπὶ γένεσι
σ
619
- /
Kal προγόνων ἀρεταῖς, καὶ ἀδοκίμων κατὰ ταὐτά, ὡσαύτως
δὲ καὶ γυναικῶν: ψυχῆς δὲ τάξιν οὐκ ἐνεῖναι διὰ τὸ
Μ
ἀναγκαίως ἔχειν ἄλλον ἑλομένην βίον ἀλλοίαν γίγνεσθαι"
[4
τὰ δ᾽ ἄλλα ἀλλήλοις τε καὶ πλούτοις καὶ πενίαις, τὰ δὲ
/ \ \ ς / a \ \ \ fal 4
νόσοις, τὰ δὲ ὑγιείαις μεμῖχθαι, τὰ δὲ Kal μεσοῦν τούτων.
2 " / e a
ἔνθα δή, ὡς ἔοικεν, ὦ φίλε Γλαύκων, ὁ πᾶς κίνδυνος
> “ \ \ a / b / “ ad
ἀνθρώπῳ, καὶ διὰ ταῦτα μάλιστα ἐπιμελητέον, ὅπως ἕκαστος
ς a lal A / ᾽ , 4 “-
ἡμῶν τῶν ἄλλων μαθημάτων ἀμελήσας τούτου τοῦ μαθή-
\ \ \ \ » i / ᾽ .
ματος καὶ ἕξητητὴς καὶ μαθητὴς ἔσται, ἐάν ποθεν οἷός τ ἡ
cal \ 3 a / > \ / \ \
μαθεῖν καὶ ἐξευρεῖν, τίς αὐτὸν ποιήσει δυνατὸν καὶ
᾽ / / \ \ \ \ /
ἐπιστήμονα, βίον Kal χρηστὸν καὶ πονηρὸν διαγιγνώσκοντα
\ / > “ “ , ae lal e ~
τὸν βελτίω ἐκ τῶν δυνατῶν ἀεὶ πανταχοῦ αἱρεῖσθαι,
\ “ \
ἀναλογιζόμενον πάντα τὰ νῦν δὴ ῥηθέντα καὶ ξυντιθέμενα
/ \ \ / cal
ἀλλήλοις καὶ διαιρούμενα πρὸς ἀρετὴν βίου πῶς ἔχει, Kal
a ΄,
εἰδέναι, τί κάλλος πενίᾳ ἢ πλούτῳ κραθὲν καὶ μετὰ ποίας
\ A “ Ν x ᾽ Ν b 4 \ /
Tivos ψυχῆς ἕξεως κακὸν ἢ ἀγαθὸν ἐργάζεται, καὶ τί
> / \ / \ >’ a \ > \ \ > /
εὐγένειαι καὶ δυσγένειαι Kal ἰδιωτεῖαι Kal ἀρχαὶ Kal ἰσχύες
\ ᾽ / \ > / \ / \ /
καὶ ἀσθένειαι καὶ εὐμαθίαι καὶ δυσμαθίαι καὶ πάντα τὰ
an A 4 \ \ »Μ \ a“ > /
τοιαῦτα τῶν φύσει περὶ ψυχὴν ὄντων Kal τῶν ἐπικτήτων
,ὔ 7 \ ” >’ ’ “ > e /
τί ξυγκεραννύμενα πρὸς ἄλληλα ἐργάζεται, ὥστε ἐξ ἁπάντων
> lal \ s / e “ Ν \
αὐτῶν δυνατὸν εἶναι συλλογισάμενον αἱρεῖσθαι, πρὸς τὴν
- - / /
τῆς ψυχῆς φύσιν ἀποβλέποντα, Tov τε χείρω καὶ τὸν
> / / / \ a ἃ » Ἢ bl a Μ >
ἀμείνω βίον, χείρω μὲν καλοῦντα, ὃς αὐτὴν ἐκεῖσε ἄξει, εἰς
\ > / / > / \ “ > \ /
TO ἀδικωτέραν γίγνεσθαι, ἀμείνω δὲ ὅστις εἰς τὸ δικαιοτέραν,
‘ ae s , dA ξ , 7 “ - /
τὰ δὲ ἄλλα πάντα χαίρειν ἐᾶν: ἑωράκαμεν γάρ, ὅτι ζῶντί
‘ “
τε καὶ τελευτήσαντι αὕτη κρατίστη αἵρεσις. ἀδαμαντίνως
- / / ,
δὴ δεῖ ταύτην τὴν δόξαν ἔχοντα εἰς “Αἰδου ἰέναι, ὅπως ἂν
εἰ 4 , - > / ΄ Ν 7 \ a /,
ῃ καὶ ἐκεῖ ἀνέκπληκτος ὑπὸ πλούτων TE Kal τῶν τοιούτων
- κ \ ᾽ \ , / \ ” /
κακῶν, Kal μὴ ἐμπεσὼν εἰς τυραννίδας Kal ἄλλας τοιαύτας
, /
πράξεις πολλὰ μὲν ἐργάσηται καὶ ἀνήκεστα κακά, ἔτι δὲ
= / / ᾽ \ A \ / > lal 7
αὐτὸς μείζω πάθῃ, ἀλλὰ γνῷ τὸν μέσον ἀεὶ τῶν τοιούτων
βίον αἱρεῖσθαι καὶ φεύγειν τὰ ὑπερβάλλοντα ἑκατέρωσε καὶ
THE MYTH OF ER 145
comeliness and beauty, or for strength and prowess, some for
birth and the virtues of their forefathers; likewise also there
were Lives of men of no such renown, There were also Lives
of women. But conditions of the Soul were not amongst the
Ensamples ; the reason whereof is this, that a Soul which hath
chosen a certain Life is of necessity changed accordingly ; but
all other things both good and evil were there mixed together
—riches and poverty, and health and disease, and also states
between these.
“There, methinks, dear Glaucon, is man’s great peril.
Wherefore let each one of us give heed to this chiefly, how
that, taking no thought for the knowledge of other things, he
shall seek after the knowledge of one thing, if peradventure
he may learn and find out who it is that shall make him able
and wise, so that he may discern the good Life from the evil,
and, according to his ability, alway and everywhere choose
the better Life, and reckoning how all the things that have
been now said, both taken together and severally, concern the
Virtuous Life, may understand what good or evil, for what
state of the Soul, beauty joined with poverty or riches worketh,
and what good or evil noble birth, and base birth, and private
station, and rule in the city, and strength, and weakness, and
quickness of wit, and slowness, and the other native qualities
of the Soul like unto these, and the qualities which the Soul
acquireth, do work, according as they are mixed variously with
one another; to the end that, having taken count of all these,
he may be able to choose, having regard to the nature of his
Soul, between the worse and the better Life, calling that the
worse which will lead his Soul to become more unrighteous,
and calling that the better which will lead it to become more
righteous. All else will he let go by; for we have seen and
know that this is the best choice for a man, both whilst he
liveth and when he is dead. With this doctrine, then, as hard
as adamant within him, must he go unto Hades, so that there
also he may not be amazed at riches and such like trumpery,
and may not fall into the Life of a tyrant or of some other
such evil-doer, and work iniquities many and without all
remedy, and himself suffer still worse things; but rather may
discern to choose alway the Life between such states, and
eschew the extremes on either hand, both in this Life, as far
L
146 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
, a a / \ \ \ > al »
ἐν τῷδε TO βίῳ κατὰ τὸ δυνατὸν καὶ ἐν παντὶ τῷ ἔπειτα"
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Β οὕτω γὰρ εὐδαιμονέστατος γίγνεται ἄνθρωπος.
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καὶ δὴ οὖν καὶ τότε ὁ ἐκεῖθεν ἄγγελος ἤγγελλε τὸν
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μὲν προφήτην οὕτως εἰπεῖν, Kal τελευταίῳ ἐπιόντι, ξὺν νῷ
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μὴτε ὁ ἄρχων αἱρέσεως ἀμελείτω μὴτε 0 τελευτῶν
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εὐθὺς ἐπιόντα τὴν μεγίστην τυραννίδα ἑλέσθαι, Kal ὑπὸ
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ἀφροσύνης Te Kal λαιμαργίας οὐ πάντα ἱκανῶς ἀνασκεψά-
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σ μενον ἑλέσθαι, ἀλλ᾽ αὐτὸν λαθεῖν ἐνοῦσαν εἱμαρμένην,
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παίδων αὑτοῦ βρώσεις Kal ἄλλα κακά' ἐπειδὴ δὲ κατὰ
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τε καὶ δαίμονας καὶ πάντα μᾶλλον ἀνθ᾽ ἑαυτοῦ. εἶναι δὲ
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αὐτὸν τῶν ἐκ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ ἡκόντων, ἐν τεταγμένῃ πολιτείᾳ
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Ὁ μετειληφότα. ὡς δὲ καὶ εἰπεῖν, οὐκ ἐλάττους εἶναι ἐν τοῖς
τοιούτοις ἁλισκομένους τοὺς ἐκ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ ἥκοντας, ἅτε
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πόνων ἀγυμνάστους" τῶν δ᾽ ἐκ τῆς γῆς τοὺς πολλούς, ἅτε
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αὐτούς τε πεπονηκότας ἄλλους TE ἑωρακότας, οὐκ ἐξ
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ἐπιδρομῆς τὰς αἱρέσεις ποιεῖσθαι. διὸ δὴ καὶ μεταβολὴν
τῶν κακῶν καὶ τῶν ἀγαθῶν ταῖς πολλαῖς τῶν Ψυχῶν
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γίγνεσθαι καὶ διὰ τὴν τοῦ κλήρου τύχην" ἐπεὶ εἴ τις ἀεί,
’ lal an “
Ε ὁπότε εἰς τὸν ἐνθάδε βίον ἀφικνοῖτο, ὑγιῶς φιλοσοφοῖ καὶ
ε “ > lal fal e / \ > / /
ὁ κλῆρος αὐτῷ τῆς αἱρέσεως μὴ ἐν τελευταίοις πίπτοι,
7 > aA > a ᾽ / » , > /
κινδυνεύει ἐκ τῶν ἐκεῖθεν ἀπαγγελλομένων οὐ μόνον ἐνθάδε
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εὐδαιμονεῖν av, ἀλλὰ Kal τὴν ἐνθένδε ἐκεῖσε καὶ δεῦρο
/ ’ὔ » / 4 - 4
πάλιν πορείαν οὐκ ἂν χθονίαν καὶ τραχεῖαν πορεύεσθαι,
ἀλλὰ λείαν τε καὶ οὐρανίαν. ταύτην γὰρ δή, ἔφη, τὴν
/ J / “ > a e -“ e \ e rn \
θέαν ἀξίαν εἶναι ἰδεῖν, ws ἕκασται ai ψυχαὶ ἡροῦντο τοὺς
᾽ n /
620 βίους: ἐλεεινήν τε yap ἰδεῖν εἶναι καὶ γελοίαν καὶ θαυμα-
σίαν. κατὰ συνήθειαν γὰρ τοῦ προτέρου βίου τὰ πολλὰ
αἱρεῖσθαι. ἰδεῖν μὲν γὰρ ψυχὴν ἔφη τήν ποτε ᾿Ορφέως
THE MYTH OF ER 147
as he is able, and in all the Life hereafter: for in this leth
man’s chief happiness.
“ Now the Messenger who brought this Tale from that place
went on and said that the Prophet then spake thus :—Even
for him whose turn cometh last, if he hath chosen with under-
standing, there is prepared a Life, which, if only a man bear
himself manfully, is tolerable, not wretched. Neither let him
who cometh first be careless of his choice; nor let him who
cometh at the end be downcast.
“He said that when the Prophet had spoken these words,
the one that had gotten the first place, as soon as he came
forward, chose the greatest kingship there; and by reason of
folly and greediness looked not well enough into all before he
chose it,and marked not that therein it was appointed of Fate
that he should eat his own children, and that other evils should
befall him. When therefore he had looked at it at leisure, he
began to beat his breast and bewail his choice, not abiding by
the commandment of the Prophet; for he did not blame him-
self for these evils, but Ill-Luck, and Gods, and any thing
rather than himself. Now, he was of them that were come
from Heaven, having spent his former life in a well-ordered
city, and become virtuous through Custom without True
Knowledge: they that were come from Heaven were not the
least part, belike, of them that were caught thus; for they
had not been exercised with labours; but most part of those
from under the Earth, inasmuch as they themselves had
endured labours, and had seen others enduring, made not
their choice hastily. For this cause, as well as through the
luck of the lot, a change of good and of evil befalleth most
part of the Souls; for if any man, whenever he cometh into
this life, seek alway with his whole heart after wisdom, and
if the lot so fall that he is not of the last to choose, there is
good hope, from what the Messenger said, not only that he
will have happiness here, but also that the journey hence to
that place and back again hither will not be under the ground
and rough, but smooth and heavenly.
“Truly it was a sight worth looking at, he said, to see how
the Souls severally chose their lives—yea, a pitiful sight, and
a laughable, and a wonderful; inasmuch as they chose mostly
after the custom of their former life; for he told how he saw
148 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
7 4 / / a
γενομένην κύκνου βίον αἱρουμένην, μίσει τοῦ γυναικείου
᾽
γένους διὰ τὸν ὑπ᾽ ἐκείνων θάνατον οὐκ ἐθέλουσαν ἐν
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γυναικὶ γεννηθεῖσαν γενέσθαι" ἰδεῖν δὲ τὴν Θαμύρου ἀηδόνος
an /
ἑλομένην" ἰδεῖν δὲ Kal κύκνον μεταβάλλοντα εἰς ἀνθρωπίνου
Β βίου αἵρεσιν, καὶ ἄλλα ζῶα μουσικὰ ὡσαύτως. εἰκοστὴν
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δὲ λαχοῦσαν ψυχὴν ἑλέσθαι λέοντος βίον: εἶναι δὲ τὴν
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Αἴαντος τοῦ Τελαμωνίου, φεύγουσαν ἄνθρωπον γενέσθαι,
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μεμνημένην τῆς τῶν ὅπλων κρίσεως. τὴν δ᾽ ἐπὶ τούτῳ
᾿Αγαμέ . ἔχθρᾳ δὲ καὶ ταύ οὔ ἀνθρωπί 3
γαμέμνονος" ἔχθρς αὶ ταύτην τοῦ ἀνθρωπίνου γένους
διὰ τὰ πάθη ἀετοῦ διαλλάξαι βίον. ἐν μέσοις δὲ λαχοῦσαν
τὴν ᾿Αταλάντης ψυχήν, κατιδοῦσαν μεγάλας τιμὰς ἀθλητοῦ
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γυναικὸς ἰοῦσαν φύσιν" πόρρω δ ev ὑστάτοις ἰδεῖν τὴν
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τοῦ γελωτοποιοῦ Θερσίτου πίθηκον ἐνδυομένην: κατὰ τύχην
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δὲ τὴν ᾽Οδυσσέως, λαχοῦσαν πασῶν ὑστάτην, αἱρησομένην
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κυῖαν ζητεῖν περιϊοῦσαν χρόνον πολὺν βίον ἀνδρὸς ἰδιώτου
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ἀπράγμονος, Kal μόγις εὑρεῖν κείμενόν που Kal παρημελημένον
Ὁ ὑπὸ τῶν ἄλλων, καὶ εἰπεῖν ἰδοῦσαν, ὅτι τὰ αὐτὰ ἂν ἔπραξε
καὶ πρώτη λαχοῦσα, καὶ ἀσμένην ἑλέσθαι. καὶ ἐκ τῶν ἄλλων͵
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τὰ μὲν ἄδικα εἰς τὰ ἄγρια, τὰ δὲ δίκαια εἰς τὰ ἥμερα
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πάσας τὰς ψυχὰς τοὺς βίους ἡρῆσθαι, ὥσπερ ἔλαχον, ἐν
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ἀποπληρωτὴν τῶν αἱρεθέντων. ὃν πρῶτον μὲν ἄγειν αὐτὴν
πρὸς τὴν Κλωθὼ ὑπὸ τὴν ἐκείνης χεῖρά τε καὶ ἐπιστροφὴν
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τῆς τοῦ ἀτράκτου δίνης, κυροῦντα ἣν λαχὼν εἵλετο poipay:
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ταύτης δ᾽ ἐφαψάμενον αὖθις ἐπὶ τὴν τῆς Ατρόπου ἄγειν
΄ / ΄ -
νῆσιν, ἀμετάστροφα τὰ ἐπικλωσθέντα ποιοῦντα" ἐντεῦθεν
THE MYTH OF ER 149
the Soul that had been Orpheus's choosing a swan’s Life,
for that, hating womankind because women murdered him, it
would not be born of a woman. Also he said that he saw the
Soul of Thamyras when it had chosen the life of a nightingale ;
and that he saw also a swan changing, and choosing the life of
a man, and other musical creatures doing likewise. And the
Soul which got the twentieth place chose the life of a lion :
this was the Soul of Ajax, the son of Telamon, which eschewed
becoming a man because it remembered the Judgment concern-
ing the Arms. Next came the Soul of Agamemnon; which
also, out of enmity towards mankind because that it went evil
with him, took in exchange the life of an eagle. The Soul of
Atalanta, which had gotten her place between the first and the
last, perceiving the great honour which belongeth to the life of
aman who contendeth at the Games, was not able to pass by
but took it. After her he saw the Soul of Epeius, the son of
Panopeus, passing into the nature of a spinster; and amongst
the last he saw the Soul of Thersites the jester putting on an
ape. Also it chanced that the Soul of Odysseus, which had
gotten the last place of all, came forward to choose, and having
abated all her ambition because she remembered her former
labours, went about seeking for a long while, and after much
ado, found the life of a quiet private man lying somewhere
despised of the others, and when she saw it said—‘ Had I
come first I would have donerthe same;’ and took it with
great joy.
“Beasts likewise were changed into men and into one
another, the unjust into those that were savage, and the just
into those that were tame: yea in everywise were they mixed
together.
“ Now when all the Souls had chosen their lives according
to the place allotted unto each, they went forward, in order,
unto Lachesis; and she sent the Angel, which each one had
chosen, with him, to be the guardian of his life and to fulfil
the things that he had chosen; and the Angel, bringing him
first unto Clotho, taketh him beneath her hand and the
revolution of the whirling spindle, and ratifieth the Portion
which the man had chosen in his turn; then, from her
presence, the Angel brought him unto Atropos where she
span; so did he make the threads of the man’s life unalterable.
150 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
621 δὲ δὴ ἀμεταστρεπτὶ ὑπὸ τὸν τῆς ᾿Ανάγκης ἰέναι θρόνον,
καὶ δι᾿ ἐκείνου διεξελθόντα, ἐπειδὴ καὶ οἱ ἄλλοι διῆλθον,
πορεύεσθαι ἅπαντας εἰς τὸ τῆς Λήθης πεδίον διὰ καύματός
τε καὶ πνίγους δεινοῦ: καὶ γὰρ εἶναι αὐτὸ κενὸν δένδρων
τε καὶ ὅσα γῆ φύει. σκηνᾶσθαι οὖν σφᾶς ἤδη ἑσπέρας
γιγνομένης παρὰ τὸν ᾿Αμέλητα ποταμόν, οὗ τὸ ὕδωρ
ἀγγεῖον οὐδὲν στέγειν. μέτρον μὲν οὖν τι τοῦ ὕδατος
πᾶσιν ἀναγκαῖον εἶναι πιεῖν, τοὺς δὲ φρονήσει μὴ σωζομέ-
B vous πλέον πίνειν τοῦ μέτρου: τὸν δὲ ἀεὶ πιόντα πάντων
ἐπιλανθάνεσθαι. ἐπειδὴ δὲ κοιμηθῆναι καὶ μέσας νύκτας
γενέσθαι, βροντήν τε καὶ σεισμὸν γενέσθαι, καὶ ἐντεῦθεν
ἐξαπίνης ἄλλον ἄλλῃ φέρεσθαι ἄνω εἰς τὴν γένεσιν, ἄτ-
TovTas ὥσπερ ἀστέρας. αὐτὸς δὲ τοῦ μὲν ὕδατος κωλυθῆναι
πιεῖν" ὅπῃ μέντοι καὶ ὅπως εἰς τὸ σῶμα ἀφίκοιτο, οὐκ
εἰδέναι, ἀλλ’ ἐξαίφνης ἀναβλέψας ἰδεῖν ἕωθεν αὑτὸν
κείμενον ἐπὶ τῇ πυρᾷ. Καὶ οὕτως, ὦ Γλαύκων, μῦθος
Ο ἐσώθη καὶ οὐκ ἀπώλετο, καὶ ἡμᾶς ἂν σώσειεν, ἂν πειθώ-
μεθα αὐτῷ, καὶ τὸν τῆς Λήθης ποταμὸν εὖ διαβησόμεθα
καὶ τὴν ψυχὴν οὐ μιανθησόμεθα: ἀλλ᾽ ἂν ἐμοὶ πειθώμεθα,
νομίζοντες ἀθάνατον ψυχὴν καὶ δυνατὴν πάντα μὲν κακὰ
ἀνέχεσθαι, πάντα δὲ ἀγαθά, τῆς ἄνω ὁδοῦ ἀεὶ ἑξόμεθα καὶ
δικαιοσύνην μετὰ φρονήσεως παντὶ τρόπῳ ἐπιτηδεύσομεν,
ἵνα καὶ ἡμῖν αὐτοῖς φίλοι ὧμεν καὶ τοῖς θεοῖς, αὐτοῦ τε
Ὁ μένοντες ἐνθάδε, καὶ ἐπειδὲν τὰ ἄθλα αὐτῆς κομιζώμεθα,
ὥσπερ οἱ νικηφόροι περιαγειρόμενοι, καὶ ἐνθάδε καὶ ἐν τῇ
χιλιετεῖ πορείᾳ, ἣν διεληλύθαμεν, εὖ πράττωμεν.
THE MYTH OF ER 151
“Thence, Er said, each man, without turning back, went
straight on under the throne of Necessity, and when each,
even unto the last, was come out through it, they all together
journeyed to the Plain of Lethe, through terrible burning heat
and frost; and this Plain is without trees or any herb that
the earth bringeth forth.
“ He said that they encamped, when it was already evening,
beside the River of Forgetfulness, the water whereof no pitcher
holdeth. Now, it was necessary that all should drink a certain
measure of the water; but they that were not preserved by
wisdom drank more than the measure; and as each man drank,
he forgot all. Then he said that when they had fallen asleep
and midnight was come, there was thunder and an earthquake,
and of a sudden they flew up thence unto divers parts to be
born in the flesh, shooting like meteors. But he himself was
not suffered to drink of the water: yet by what means and
how he came unto his body he knew not; but suddenly he
opened his eyes, and lo! it was morning, and he was lying on
the pyre.
“Thus, O Glaucon, was the Tale preserved from perishing,
and it will preserve us if we believe in it; so shall we pass
over the River of Lethe safely, and keep our Souls undefiled.
“This is my counsel: let us believe that the Soul is
immortal, and able to bear all ill and all good, and let us
always keep to the upward way, and practise justice in all
things with understanding, that we may be friends both with
ourselves and with the Gods, both whilst we sojourn here, and
when we receive the prizes of our justice, like unto Conquerors
at the Games which go about gathering their wages; and that
both here, and in the journey of a thousand years of which I
told, we may fare well.”
152 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
OBSERVATIONS ON THE ΜΎΤΗ oF ER
I
Let us begin with the geography and cosmography of the
Myth.
The Meadow of the Judgment-seat, between the two open-
ings of Tartarus (in and out) on the one side, and the two
corresponding openings of Heaven on the other side, is also
the meeting-place of the Souls which return from their
thousand years’ sojourn in Tartarus and Heaven. From the
Meadow they journey, always above ground, till they come to
a “rainbow-coloured light, straight like a pillar, extended
from on high throughout the Heaven and the Earth.” This
Light is the axis, I take it, on which the whole heavenly
system revolves, the Earth fixed in the centre of the system
being a globe on the line of the axis. The destination of the
Pilgrim Souls is that part of the surface of the globe at
which, in the hemisphere where they are, the axis enters on
its imaginary course through the centre of the Earth, in order
to come out again at the antipodal point in the other hemi-
sphere. The Souls, arrived at the very point where, in the
hemisphere where they are, the axis of the Cosmos enters the
Earth, are in the place of all places where the Law which
controls all things is intuitively plain—they see the Pillar
of Light as the Spindle of Necessity. Then, suddenly, the
outlook presented to us in the Myth changes like the scene
ina dream. It is no longer such a view of the Cosmos from
within as we bad, a moment ago, while we stood with the
Pilgrims on the surface of the Earth, looking up at the Pillar
of Light in the sky: we are now looking at the Cosmos from
the outside, as if it were an orrery—a model of concentric
cups or rings; and Necessity herself is holding the model in
her lap, and the three Fates are seated round, and keep turn-
ing the eight cups, on each of which, on its edge, a Siren is
mounted who sings in tune with her sisters. But the Pilgrim
Souls are standing near, looking on at this spectacle. They
are on their way, we know, from the Meadow to the Plain of
Lethe, both places on the surface of the Earth: it is on the
THE MYTH OF ER 153
Karth then, after all, that the throne is placed on which
Necessity sits holding in her lap the model, which, like a
true dream-thing, is both a little model and the great Cosmos
itself.' In this place, in the presence of Necessity on her
throne, the Pilgrim Souls are addressed by the Prophet from
his pulpit; then choose, in the turns which the lots determine,
lives of men or beasts scattered, it would seem, as little
images at their feet;* then go before the three Fates, who
1 Let me illustrate this characteristic of the ‘‘dream-thing” from the Dream
in the Fifth Book of Wordsworth’s Prelude :—
On poetry and geometric truth,
And their high privilege of lasting life,
From all internal injury exempt,
I mused ; upon these chiefly: and at length,
My senses yielding to the sultry air,
Sleep seized me, and I passed into a dream.
I saw before me stretched a boundless plain
Of sandy wilderness, all black and void,
And as I looked around, distress and fear
Came creeping over me, when at my side,
Close at my side, an uncouth shape appeared
Upon a dromedary, mounted high.
He seemed an Arab of the Bedouin tribes :
A lance he bore, and underneath one arm
A stone, and in the opposite hand a shell
Of a surpassing brightness... .
* * * > * *
. . » The Arab told me that the stone
Was “ Euclid’s Elements’ ; and “This,” said he,
**Ts something of more worth” ; and at the word
Stretched forth the shell, so beautiful in shape,
In colour so resplendent, with command
That I should hold it to my ear. I did so,
And heard that instant in an unknown tongue,
Which yet I understood, articulate sounds,
A loud prophetic blast of harmony ;
An Ode, in passion uttered... .
ὲ * * * * *
While this was uttering, strange as it may seem,
I wondered not, although I plainly saw
The one to be a stone, the other a shell ;
Nor doubted once but that they both were books,
Having a perfect faith in all that passed.
2 | think that Plato may have borrowed his τὰ τῶν βίων παραδείγματα here from
votive images of trades and callings, and of animals: ‘‘The Argive Heraeum,”
says Mr. Rouse (Greek Votive Offerings, p. 298), ‘‘ yielded hundreds of animals
in bronze and clay: bulls, cows, oxen and oxherds, goats, sheep, cocks, ducks,
and other birds, including perhaps a swan.” These animals (to which may be
added horses, pigs, doves), were, Mr. Rouse supposes, either sacrificial victims
or first-fruits of hunting. Referring to human figures he says, p. 79, ‘‘It is at
least probable that a successful huntsman, artist, craftsman, trader, would
dedicate a figure, in character, as a thank-offering for success in his calling.” If
I remember rightly, a little figure, recognised as that of a ‘‘ Philosopher,” was
discovered in the tomb of ‘‘ Aristotle’ found near Chalcis some years ago.
154 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
ratify the chosen doom of each; then pass severally under
the throne of Necessity ; and thence travel together, through
a hot dusty region, till they come to the Plain of Lethe,
where no green thing grows, and to the River the water of
which no pitcher can hold. When the Souls have drunk of
this water—the foolish, too much—they fall asleep; but at
midnight there is an earthquake and thunder, and suddenly,
like meteors, they shoot up to be born again, in terrestrial
bodies, in our part of the Earth.
The account given by Plato here is strictly in accordance
with the popular belief, which makes Lethe a river entirely
above ground, never counts it among the rivers of Tartarus.'
Virgil, in Aen. vi. 705, 714, may be thought to place it under
ground; but his description suffers in clearness from com-
pression; and it is not likely that he willingly deserts
traditional authority in a matter of such importance as the
position of Lethe. His véxwa, as a whole, is derived from a
source (considered by Rohde and Dieterich to be the κατάβασις
εἰς Aféov). common to himself with Pindar, Plato, Plutarch,
Lucian, and (according to Dieterich, though here Rohde does
not agree with him)? the writers of certain sepulchral inscrip-
tions which I shall describe in the next section; and where
Lethe appears in any of these authors, it never, I believe,
appears as one of the infernal, or subterranean, rivers.
Indeed, all reasonable doubt as to Virgil’s orthodoxy seems to
be barred by his statement that the plain in which Souls
about to be born again are gathered together near the banks
of Lethe has its own sun (den. vi. 641). It is evidently
above ground somewhere—the writer of the Azzochus would
perhaps say in the antipodal hemisphere of the Earth.
ro ty
The object of this section is to point to a detail—the
twin-streams, Eunoé and Lethe, of the Earthly Paradise (Purg.
xxvili.)—in which Dante’s vision of Purgatory reproduces—I
1 See Thiemann, Platonische Eschatologie, p. 18.
* Dieterich, Nek. 128 f., 185, and Rohde, Psy. ii. 217.
3. It ought to be mentioned that this section was written, and the substance
of it read in the course of a public lecture, and also to a private society, before
the appearance of Miss Harrison’s Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion,
and her ‘‘ Query’ in The Classical Review, Feb. 1908, p. 58.
THE MYTH OF ER 155
think, independently—a distinctive feature of that Orphic
ritual and mythology to which Plato is largely indebted for
his account of the Soul's κάθαρσις as a process of forgetting
and remembering—as a series of transmigrations through
which the particulars of sense, the evils and sins of the flesh,
are forgotten or left behind, and the universal /deas, long ob-
scured, are, at last, so clearly remembered that they can never
be forgotten any more, but become the everlasting possession
of the Soul, finally disembodied and returned to its own star.
It is easy to account, from the literary sources open to
Dante, for the presence of rivers, and more particularly of
Lethe, in his Earthly Paradise. On the one hand, the descrip-
tion of Eden in Genesis would suggest the general idea of
rivers girding the Earthly Paradise;* while, on the other
hand, the proximity of Purgatory to the Earthly Paradise
makes it natural that Lethe should be one of these rivers—
that first reached by one coming up from Purgatory. The
drinking of Lethe, according to Aen. vi. and the current
mythology, is the act with which a period of purgatorial
discipline is closed by those Souls which are about to pass
again into the flesh. In placing the Earthly Paradise on the
top of a lofty mountain Dante followed a prevalent medieval
belief; and, although he seems to have drawn on his own
imagination in placing Purgatory on the slopes of this
mountain, it was natural, and in accordance with the current
mythology, that he should place it there, close to the Earthly
Paradise or Elysium; for the Lethe of Aen. vi. is evidently in
the same region as Elysium,—
Interea videt Aeneas in valle reducta
Seclusum nemus et virgulta sonantia sylvis,
Lethaeumque domos placidas qui praenatat amnem.?
The presence, then, of Lethe, the purgatorial stream, in
Dante’s Earthly Paradise is easily accounted for by reference
to the mythological authorities open to him. But for the
association of Eunoé, the stream of Memory, with Lethe, the
stream of Forgetfulness, it does not seem possible to account
in this way. The common mythology gives Lethe alone. It
1 See Vernon’s Readings on the Purgatorio, ii. 285-293. Lethe girds the
Earthly Paradise on the side of Earth, Eunoé on the side of Heaven.
3 Virg. Aen. vi. 703.
156 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
is not likely that Dante had heard of the twin streams—Lethe
and Mnemosyne—of the Orphic cult; at any rate, in the
absence of evidence that he had heard of them, it seems better
to suppose that the very natural picture of a stream of Memory
beside the stream of Forgetfulness occurred to him spon-
taneously, as it had occurred to others, who, like himself, were
deeply concerned to find expression for their hope of κάθαρσις.
For the twin streams of the Orphie cult which resemble
Dante’s Lethe and Eunoé so closely, we must turn to the
sepulchral inscriptions mentioned at the end of the last
section. These are certain directions for the ghostly journey
to be made by initiated persons, written in hexameter verse
on gold tablets found in graves at Thurii and Petelia in
South Italy, and now preserved in the British Museum.
These tablets were described by Comparetti in the Journal
of Hellenic Studies, iii. p. 111 ff, and are printed by Kaibel
in his Jnse. Gr. Sic. et It. p. 157. Kaibel assigns them to
the third or fourth century B.c. I shall quote the one that
was found at Petelia.’ It gives directions to an initiated
person who hopes to get out of the Cycle of Incarnations—
κύκλου T αὖ λῆξαι Kal ἀναπνεῦσαι KaxoTnTos*—having been
completely purified. Such a person, the verses say, must
avoid the fountain on the left hand with a white cypress
growing near it, evidently the water of Lethe, although the
tablet does not name it. It is to the right that the purified
Soul of the μύστης must turn, to the cool water of Mnemosyne.
The guardians of the well he must address in set form of words,
thus—“ I am the child of Earth and Heaven: I am parched
with thirst; I perish; give me cool water to drink from the
well of Memory.” And the guardians will give him water
to drink from the holy well, and he will be translated to
dwell for ever with the Heroes :—
εὑρήσεις δ᾽ ᾿Αἴδαο δόμων ἐπ᾽. ἀρίστερα κρήνην,
παρ᾽ δ᾽ αὐτῇ λευκὴν ἑστηκυῖαν κυπάρισσον.
ree τῆς οὐ μηδὲ σχεδὸν ἐμπελάσειας"
1 For further description of the Petelia Tablet (in the Brit. Museum, Gold
Ornament Room, Table. e-case H) and other Orphic golden tablets (6.9. the
Eleuthernae Tablet from Orete, in the National Museum, Athens), the reader
may consult Miss Harrison’s Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion,
pp. 573 ff., with Appendix by Mr. G. G, A. Murray, pp. 660 ff.
2. See Lobeck, Aglaoph. p. 800,
THE MYTH OF ER 15
-.
Γ 7 : 7 ~ 7 , . ,
εὑρήσεις ὃ ἑτέραν THS μνημοσύνηφ ἀπὸ λίμνης
5 ” ΄ 7 oe ’ 7
ψυχρὸν ὕδωρ προρέον' φύλακες δ᾽ ἐπίπροσθεν ἔασιν.
εἰπεῖν" γῆς παῖς εἰμὶ καὶ οὐρανοῦ ἀστερύεντος,
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ γένος οὐράνιον" τόδε 8 ἴστε καὶ αὐτοί"
δίψῃ δ᾽ εἰμὶ αὔη καὶ ἀπόλλυμαι, ἀλλὰ δότ' αἶψα
ψυχρὸν ὕδωρ προρέον τῆς μνημοσύνης ἀπὸ λίμνης᾽
» 7 7 7 7 , + 7
Kav[tol wo]e δώσουσι πιεῖν θείης ἀπὸ κρήνης,
\ , , -“ » ” , 7 7 ᾿ 7
καὶ τότ᾽ ἔπειτ᾽ ἄλλοισι μεθ᾽ ἡρώεσσιν ἀνάξει[ς ΐ
The Myth of Er indeed differs from the Petelia Tablet in
being concerned with those who must still drink of Lethe,
and be born again in the flesh, not with those who have
been thoroughly purified and drink of Mnemosyne, and so
enter into the eternal peace of the disembodied state; yet
there is a touch in the Platonic Myth which reminds us that
the journey taken is the same as that which the Orphic
μύστης had to take with the golden tablet in his hand. The
journey to the plain of Lethe, according to the Platonic Myth,
is through a dry, torrid region, and the temptation to drink
too deeply of the water of Lethe is strong, and wisdom, in
the imperfectly purified Soul, is needed in order to resist it.
Similarly, the purified μύστης is warned by his tablet not
to quench his burning thirst in Lethe, for the cool water
of Mnemosyne is at hand. The drinking of Lethe is the
act with which each successive period of the purgatorial
discipline ends; the drinking of Mnemosyne is the act
which completes the whole series of periods in the discipline.
Both streams, or fountains, are in the place—above ground,
not subterranean—to which Souls journey in order that from
it they may be either translated to the True Heaven, or sent
back to be born again in this world. Similarly Dante places
these two streams side by side on the top of the Mount of
Purgatory, Lethe running west and north on the left hand of
one standing on the south side of their common source and
looking north; Eunoé running east and north on his right
hand. Dante, not having to set forth his doctrine of
κάθαρσις in the form of a myth of metempsychosis, makes
the purified Soul, before it passes from the Mount of
Purgatory up into Heaven, drink only once of Lethe, at
the completion of all its purgatorial stages, in order that it
may forget its sins; and then of Eunoé, that it may retain
the memory of its meritorious deeds (Purg. xxviii. 130).
158 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Sins are wiped out after penance, and so fully pardoned, that
the sinner does not even remember that he has sinned; but,
on the other hand, he does not begin his heavenly existence
as a tabula rasa—the continuity of his conscious life is pre-
served by the memory he retains of his good actions. Here
Dante sets forth the thought on which the Platonic doctrine
of ἀνάμνησις rests. It is the flesh, with its sins, that the
Philosopher in the Phaedrus forgets; but of the things of
the mind—of truth and virtue—he gains always clearer and
clearer memory, working out his purification as a devotee of
the true “mysteries”—ovn πτεροῦται ἡ τοῦ φιλοσόφου
διάνοια: πρὸς γὰρ ἐκείνοις ἀεί ἐστι μνήμῃ κατὰ δύναμιν,
πρὸς οἷσπερ θεὸς ὧν θεῖός ἐστι' τοῖς δὲ δὴ τοιούτοις ἀνὴρ
ὑπομνήμασιν ὀρθῶς χρώμενος, τελέους ἀεὶ τελετὰς τελούμενος,
τέλεος ὄντως μόνος γίγνεται (Phaedrus, 249 c). The parallel
between the philosopher who “always, as far as he can,
cleaves in memory to those things by cleaving to which the
Deity is divine,”' and the purified μύστης who finally drinks
of the well of μνημοσύνη, is plainly in Plato’s mind here, as
Dieterich (Nekyia, pp. 113, 122) and others have noticed.”
Similarly, in the Phaedo, 114 c, he says οἱ φιλοσοφίᾳ ἱκανῶς
καθηράμενοι ἄνευ σωμάτων ζῶσι, speaking of those who are
translated from the Earthly to the Celestial Paradise, 1.6.
from the True Surface of the Earth, or the Islands of the
Blessed, to οἰκήσεις ἔτι τούτων καλλίους.
1 See Thompson's note on the construction πρὸς ἐκείνοις.
* Dieterich (Vek. p. 122) says: ‘‘Platons Mythen stimmen in allem, was
die erhaltenen Reste zu kontroliren uns gestatten, zu den Tafelchen von Thurioi
und Petelia: in diesen und in jenen der himmlische Ursprung der Seelen, der
schmerzenvolle Kreislauf, das Abbiissen der Schuld wegen alter Siinden, das
Eingehen in die Gefilde der Seligkeit (Persephone tritt allerdings bei Platon
ginzlich zuriick); zur Rechten gehen wie in Platons Republik so nach den
Inschriften die zu Belohnenden und zur Linke die Strafenden, links ist die
Lethe in beiden Uberlieferungen. Sollten wir nun nicht die Anspielungen bei
Platon verstehen von der μνήμη der seligen Philosophen-seelen, πρὸς yap ἐκείνοις
del ἐστι μνήμῃ (Phaid. 249 c), und unmittelbar Ἢ Ἀπ δ αι die Bezeichnung der
Lehre als τέλεοι τελεταὶ ἢ Es ist dasselbe, wenn von Pythagoras gesagt wird, er
sei immer in Besitz der μνήμη gewesen (8, bes. Laert. Diog. viii. 4). Dort ist
nur abstrakt gesagt, was der Quell der Mneme konkret, mythisch, und
symbolisch sein soll. Die Wiedererinnerung an das, was die Seele einst sah
in ihrer géttlichen Heimat, hilft sie erlésen ; wer sie empfangt, ist erldst.
Sollte es noch zu kiihn sein, in jener offenbar viel alteren Vorstellung der
unteritalischen Mysterien, die nun fiir uns erst um Platons Zeit oder etwas
spaiter durch diese ‘l”ifelchen ans Licht treten, eine Quelle der platonischen
Lehre von der ἀνάμνησις zu finden? Das kann hier nur angedeutet werden,
sonst wiirde sich herausstellen, dass diese Mysterienlehre iiberhaupt von viel
grosserem Einflusse auf die ganze Psychologie, ja die ganze Ideenlehre gewesen
sind, als man hatte annehmen kénnen.”
THE MYTH OF ER 159
I may perhaps be allowed to notice here, in passing, a
curious point of contact between Plato's representation of
κάθαρσις as effected through a series of metempsychoses, and
Dante’s representation of it as an ascent from terrace to
terrace of the Mount of Purgatory. In the Myth of E
Plato says that the Souls come to Lethe in the evening, and
drink of the water, and fall asleep; and at midnight there
is thunder and an earthquake, and they shoot up like meteors
to be born again in the flesh. Similarly, Dante tells us
(Purg. xx. and xxi.) that when a Soul passes to a higher
terrace in the course of its purification, the Mount of Purgatory
is shaken, and there isa great shout of the spirits praising
God. The Soul of the poet Statius, which had just passed
to a higher terrace, thus explains the matter to Dante (Pury.
xxi. 58 ff.):—The Mountain, it says,
Trembles when any spirit feels itself
So purified, that it may rise, or move
For rising ; and such loud acclaim ensues.
* ol * » *
And I, who in this punishment had lain
Five hundred years and more, but now have felt
Free wish for happier clime. Therefore thou felt’st
The mountain tremble ; and the spirits devout
Heard’st, over all its limits, utter praise
To the Liege Lord, whom I entreat their joy
To hasten.}
The earthquake and sound of shouting which attended the
passage of the Soul of Statius to a higher terrace are com-
pared with the shaking of Delos when Latona “couched to
bring forth the twin-born Eyes of Heaven,” and with “the
song first heard in Bethlehem’s field.” An earthquake and
a great sound—of thunder or shouting—are thus associated
both by Plato and by Dante with the new birth. The ascent
of Souls from terrace to terrace of the Mount of Purgatory
is a series of spiritual new births, and answers in Dante to
the series of re-incarnations in Plato’s mythological representa-
tion of the doctrine of κάθαρσις.
That the Orphic mythology of the two fountains of Lethe
and Mnemosyne in the world of the departed—vouched for
1 Purg. xxi. 58 ff., Cary’s Translation.
160 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
by the gold tablet—originated in ritual practised by those who
consulted oracles of the dead, is rendered probable by a
passage in Pausanias ix. 39 (which Dante cannot be supposed
to have known), in which the method of consulting Tro-
phonius at Lebadeia is described. The priests of Trophonius,
before they take the applicant to the μαντεῖον, lead him to
certain fountains, Lethe and Mnemosyne, which are very close
to each other—ai δὲ ἐγγύτατά εἰσιν ἀλλήλων. First, he
must drink of Lethe that he may forget all that he thought
of before; then he must drink of Mnemosyne that he may
have power given him to remember what he sees when he
goes down into the Cave of Trophonius. There is evidently
a connection between the mythology of the Descent into
Hades and the practice of consulting oracles of the dead like
that of Trophonius. It is to consult his father Anchises that
Aeneas goes down into Avernus; and even the inmates of
Dante’s Jnferno (for instance, Farinata, Jnf. x.) have prophetic
power.
To summarise the results so far reached :—Dante was true
to mythological data at his disposal in placing Lethe in, or
near, Elysium or the Earthly Paradise, and making it a
stream, not subterranean, but on the surface of the Earth;
but there is no evidence to show that he had any knowledge
of the Orphic mythology of the twin-streams as we have it
in the Petelia inscription. Nor can we suppose that he knew
of Pausanias’ (ix. 39) mention of the streams of Lethe and
Mnemosyne at the entrance of the Cave of Trophonius.’ The
safest course is to allow that Dante, taking the general idea
of streams encircling the Earthly Paradise from Genesis, and
the idea of Lethe as one of these streams from Aen. vi., may
have hit, quite independently of mythological tradition, on the
very natural idea of a stream of Memory to contrast with the
stream of Oblivion, although his description of the attributes
of Eunoé as stream of Memory certainly resembles Platonic
and Neo-Platonic passages in which the process of κάθαρσις
is identified with that of ἀνάμνησις.
1 It is possible that he may have seen Pliny, H. V. xxxi. 15. For Dante’s
acquaintance with Pliny, see Toynbee’s Dante Dictionary, art. ‘ Plinius,” and his
Index of Authors quoted by Benvenuto da Imola in his Commentary on the D. C.,
published as Annual Report of the Dante Society (Cambridge, Mass.), 1900,
art. ‘‘ Plinius,”’
THE MYTH OF ER 161
With regard to the name Eunoé (not a name obviously
appropriate to the stream of Memory) | have a suggestion
to make, which, if it goes in the right direction at all,
perhaps does not go very far. I offer it, however, for what
it may be worth, as a contribution to a difficult subject. My
suggestion is that Dante’s use of the name Eunot may have
some connection with the idea of refrigerivm, which apparently
found its way into Christian literature ' from the early Chris-
tian epitaphs which reproduce the ψυχρὸν ὕδωρ of the pagan
epitaphs. Thus, we have such pagan epitaphs as the follow-
ing published by Kaibel, and referred to by Dieterich in his
Nekyia and Rohde in his Psyche: ψυχρὸν ὕδωρ δοίη σοι
ἄναξ ἐνέρων ᾿Αὐδωνεύς (Kaibel, 1 G., 1842)—etwiyer καὶ
δοίη σοι ὁ "Ὅσιρις τὸ ψυχρὸν ὕδωρ (Kaibel, 1 G., 1488)—
D.M. [VLIA POLITICE DOESE OSIRIS TO PSYCRON
HYDOR (inscription found in Via Nomentana, Rome; Kaibel,
1. @. 1705; cf. Dieterich, Nek. p. 95); and such Christian
epitaphs (quoted by Dieterich, Vek. p. 95, and Rohde, Psyche,
li. 391) as in refrigerio et pace anima tua—Deus te refrigeret
—spiritum tuum Dominus refrigeret.
I suggest, then, that the name Eunot—edvora, benevolentia
—was chosen by Dante, or rather by an unknown authority
from whom he borrowed it, to indicate that a boon was
graciously bestowed by God through the water of this stream
—the boon of refrigerivm—rpvuypov ὕδωρ δοίη σοι ἄναξ
ἐνέρων “AidSwvevs—Dominus te refrigeret. Dante's Eunoe
would thus mean the Stream of the Loving-kindness and
Grace of God.
Considering the probable descent of the Christian ,e-
Srigerium (the idea of which makes itself felt in the lines
with which the Purgatorio ends), through epitaphs, from the
Orphic ψυχρὸν ὕδωρ, I am inclined to think that it is to
Christian epitaphs that we ought to go for the more
immediate source of Dante’s Eunoe. If the word were found
there in connection with refrigeriwum, we might infer with
some confidence that it had occurred in Orphiec epitaphs.°
* Tertullian, Apologeticus, XXXIX, , speaking of the Lord’s Supper, says, ‘‘ inopes
eg nw relrigerio isto juvamus” ; and Dante, Par. xiv. 27, has ‘‘ Lo refrigerio
ell’ eterna ploia.”
2 In the ‘‘ Query” in the Classical Review, Feb. 1903, p. 58, referred to on
p. 154 supra, Miss Harrison conjectured E[vvJoias in Kaibel, 7.6.5... 642. In
a note on ‘‘ The Source of Dante’s Eunoé” in the Classical Review, March 1903,
M
162 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Ill
Dante’s Mount of Purgatory has characteristics belonging
to the Islands of the Blessed, or mansions ἐπὶ γῆς, to the
Plain of Lethe, and to Tartarus, as these places are described
in Plato’s Myths. The Earthly Paradise on the aethereal top
of the Mount of Purgatory answers to the mansions ἐπὶ γῆς
—‘“‘on the True Surface of the Earth.” Lethe, as well as
Eunoé, is on the top of the Mount of Purgatory; and the
disciplinary punishment undergone by those not incorrigibly
wicked, in Plato’s Tartarus, answers in part to the penance
undergone on the various cornices or terraces of Dante’s
Purgatory. Looking at the composition of the Myth of Er as
a whole, we may say that in this Myth we have the sketch
of a Divina Commedia, complete with its three parts—Inferno,
Purgatorio, and Paradiso. The Inferno is painted with a few
touches, where the torments of Ardiaeus are described. The
Purgatorio is given in more detail, not only in the reference
to what those who come out of Tartarus have suffered during
their imprisonment, but also in the account of the march of
these Souls to the throne of Necessity, and their choosing of
new Lives, and further journey on to the water of Lethe:
pp- 117, 118, in reply to Miss Harrison’s ‘‘ Query,” I wrote:—‘‘ Until Miss
Harrison’s ΕΓ ὑν]οίας has been proved to belong to the original text of Kaibel,
I.G.S.I. 642, and the reference in that inscription has been shown to belong
certainly to the Orphic Κρήνη Μνημοσύνης, it will be enough to admit that an
Orphic writer in the third century B.c. might very naturally speak of the
φύλακες of the Well of Memory as εὖνοι towards those μύσται on whom they
bestowed τὸ ψυχρὸν ὕδωρ, or refrigeriwm, and that he might very naturally
describe that well itself as Evvolas xpijvy—the Fountain of Loving-kindness.”’
Since writing the above I have been reminded by a reference in Dieterich’s
Eine Mithrasliturgie (1903), p. 74, n. 1, that Plutarch, in his Js, δέ Osir. ch. 47,
says that the Persian god Ormuzd made six gods, the first of whom is the God of
εὔνοια---ὁ μὲν ᾿᾽Ωρομάζης ἐκ τοῦ καθαρωτάτου φάους ὁ δ᾽ ᾿Αρειμάνιος ἐκ τοῦ ζόφου
γεγονὼς πολεμοῦσιν ἀλλήλοις" καὶ ὁ μὲν ἕξ θεοὺς ἐποίησε, τὸν μὲν πρῶτον εὐνοίας
τὸν δὲ δεύτερον ἀληθείας, τὸν δὲ τρίτον εὐνομίας, τῶν δὲ λοιπῶν τὸν μὲν σοφίας,
τὸν δὲ πλούτου, τὸν δὲ τῶν ἐπὶ τοῖς καλοῖς ἡδέων δημιουργόν: ὁ δὲ τούτους
ὥσπερ ἀντιτέχνους ἴσους τὸν ἀριθμόν. Here, I take it, τὸν μὲν πρῶτον is the
first counted from Ormuzd himself; so that the God of εὔνοια would be the last
reached by the ascending Soul of the initiated person on its way up the Mithraic
κλῖμαξ ἑπτάπυλος. It is a strange coincidence that the last stage in Dante’s
κλῖμαξ of purification—the Mount of Purgatory—should also be Εὔνοια, having
passed which his μύστης is
Puro e disposto a salire alle stelle.
Miss Harrison (Prolegomena, p. 584) refers to tomb-inscriptions with εὐνοίας
καὶ μνήμης χάριν. This only means, I take it, ‘‘in affectionate remembrance,”
and can hardly give the clue to the problem of Dante’s Eunoe= Mnemosyne.
THE MYTH OF ER 163
these experiences, leading up, as they do, to γένεσις in the
flesh, are all parts of a purgatorial discipline. Lastly, we have
the Paradiso of the Myth of Kr in the vision of the orrery—
the little model of the great Universe, by means of which the
astronomical theory of Plato’s age—essentially the same as
that of Dante’s age—is illustrated and presented in a form
which appeals to poetical fancy, and yet—so Plato thought—
is scientifically correct. This ancient astronomy, first poetised
by Plato, has indeed played a notable part in the history of
poetry. Dante’s Paradiso is dominated by it—renders it into
poetry, and yet leaves it “scientific”; and Milton, although he
was acquainted with the Copernican system, adheres, in
Paradise Lost, to the old astronomy with its concentric
spheres revolving round the Earth." But when we say that
Dante’s Paradiso—the noblest of all Eschatological Myths—is
dominated by the ancient astronomy,—renders its theory of
the heavens into poetry and still leaves it “ scientific,’—-we
must not forget that the theory came down to Dante already
touched into poetry by an influence not commonly considered
poetical, to which, however, Dante’s rendering owes much of
its poetical effect. I refer to the influence of Aristotle. He
put poetry into astronomy when he explained the revolutions
of the spheres as actuated by the attraction of God—the Best
Beloved, Who draws all things unto Himself with strong
desire (see Met. A 7; de Coelo, ii. 2; and Mr. A. J. Butler’s
note, Zhe Paradise of Dante, p. 8). It is Aristotle who
dictates the first line of the Paradiso—
La gloria di Colui che tutto muove ; 3
and it is with Aristotle’s doctrine—or poetry—that the
Paradiso ends—
Al? alta fantasia qui mancd possa :
Ma gia volgeva il mio disiro e Ἶ velle,
Si come ruota che igualmente ἃ mossa,
L’ Amor che muove il Sole e I’ altre stelle.*
1 See Masson’s Milton’s Poetical Works, vol. i. pp. 89 ff.
2 His glory by whose might all things are moved.
CaRY.
3 Here vigour failed the towering fantasy ;
But yet the will rolled onward, like a wheel
In even motion, by the Love impelled
That moves the Sun in Heaven and all the Stars.
CaRY.
164 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
The Aristotelian doctrine—or poetry '—of these lines is set
forth fully in the Convivio, 1. 44:
There are nine moving heavens, and the order of their position
is as follows: The first that is reckoned is that of the Moon; the
second, that in which Mercury is; the third, Venus ; the fourth, the
Sun; the fifth, Mars; the sixth, Jupiter; the seventh, Saturn ;
the eighth is that of the Stars; the ninth is that which can only
be perceived by the movement above mentioned, which is called
the crystalline or diaphanous, or wholly transparent. But outside
of these, Catholics suppose the Empyrean Heaven, which is as much
as to say the Heaven of Flame, or the luminous ; and they suppose
this to be immovable, since it has, in itself, in respect of every
part, that which its matter requires. And this is the reason why
the primum mobile has most rapid movement: because by reason of
the fervent longing which every part of it has to be joined to
every part of that most divine motionless Heaven, it revolves
within that with so great desire that its velocity is, as it were,
incomprehensible. And this motionless and peaceful Heaven is
the place of that Supreme Deity which alone fully beholds itself.
This is the place of the blessed spirits, according as Holy Church,
which cannot lie, will have it; and this Aristotle, to whoso under-
stands him aright, seems to mean, in the first book de Coelo.”
This is μῦθος ---ἃβ truly μῦθος as the Spindle of Necessity
in the Vision of Er; which Dante sufficiently recognises in
Conv. ii. 3, where he says that although, as regards the truth
of these things, little can be known, yet that little which
human reason can know has more delectation than all the
certainties of sense.
To pass now to another point:—The νῶτον, or continuous
surface formed by the edges or lips of the concentric whorls
of the orrery (Rep. 616 £), has been identified by some with
the νῶτον τοῦ οὐρανοῦ of Phaedrus, 247 c—the outside of
the outermost sphere of the sensible Cosmos, on which the
Chariot-Souls emerge in sight of the Super-sensible Forms.
Hence, it is inferred, the place where the Souls of the Myth of
Er are assembled before the throne of Necessity, and where
they choose new Lives before they journey on to the Plain of
1 Against the view here advanced—that Aristotle’s doctrine of God is “ poetry ”
—the reader may consult an interesting article on ‘‘ The Conception of ἐνέργεια
ἀκινησίας, by Mr. F. ©, 8, Schiller, in ind, Oct. 1900, republished in revised and
expanded form, under the title of Activity and Substance, as Essay xii. in Mr.
Schiller’s Humanism (1903).
2 A. J. Butler’s Translation of Scartazzini’s Companion to Dante, p. 420.
THE MYTH OF ER 165
Lethe, is outside the sensible Cosmos,’ I do not think that
this inference is certain, or even probable. It is a model of
the Cosmos, I think——and an old-fashioned model, with rings
instead of spheres *——not the outside of the actual Cosmos, that
the Pilgrim Souls of the Republic see. In the vision of this
model, or orrery, we have what is really a vision within the
larger vision of the whole Myth of Er. The Pilgrim Souls
are still somewhere in the sensible Cosmos—indeed, they are
on the surface of the Earth somewhere. In this place, on the
surface of the Karth, Necessity and the three Fates, and the
rest of the pageant, appear to them, ἐν εἰδώλου εἴδει, as the
Saints appear to Dante in the lower Spheres where they
really are ποὺ Standing in this place, on the surface of the
Earth—it may be on the antipodal surface of the Earth—the
Pilgrim Souls see on the knees of Necessity the model of the
Cosmos, with the lips of its rings making a continuous surface.
It is true that in the Phaedrus Souls about to be born actually
visit the νῶτον οὐρανοῦ, and see thence the ὑπερουράνιος
τόπος, but in the Phaedrus these Souls have wings and can
fly to the flammantia moenia mundi, whereas, in the Myth of
Er the Souls plod on foot. This seems to me to make a great
difference. In interpreting the details of a Platonic Myth we
do well always to take account of the poet-philosopher’s power
of exact visualisation, in respect of which he can be compared
only with Dante. I think, therefore, that in the Myth of
1 See R. L. Nettleship’s Philosophical Lectures and Remains, ii. 361, n. 3.
2 Rep. 616 D: see Burnet, Larly Greek Philosophy, p. 202, and $78 generally.
Σφόνδυλοι, Prof. Burnet points out, are not spheres, but rings, what Parmenides
(adopting a Pythagorean idea) calls στέφαναι. According to the oPédvdvAor-scheme,
the Earth and the Heavens are not spherical, but annular. As the astronomy
accepted by Plato undoubtedly made the Earth spherical, in a spherical Cosmos
(see Zeller’s Plato, Eng. Transl. p. 379), we must conclude that the system of rings
or σφόνδυλοι, in Rep. 616, is that of a model only—either an old-fashioned
Pythagorean one, or an up-to-date one, in which, however, only the half of
each sphere was represented, so that the internal “‘works” might be seen. That
astronomical models were in use we know from Zimaeus, 40 p, where the speaker
says that without the aid of a model of the Heavens it would be useless to attempt
to describe certain motions ; and cf. Fabricii Bibl. Gr. Liber iv. pp. 457 ff., on
astronomical models in antiquity.
With regard to the breadth of the rims of the σφόνδυλοι, see Mr. Adam’s note
on 616 E, and Appendix vi. Although the view supported by the προτέρα
kal ἀρχαιοτέρα γραφή mentioned by Proclus—that the breadth of the rims of the
σφόνδυλοι is proportionate, but not equal, to the diameters of the planets—is
plausible, it seems better to take it that the supposed distances of the orbits from
each other are signified by the breadth of the rims.
3 Par. iv. 34 ff. Cf. Odys. xi. 600, τὸν δὲ μετ᾽ εἰσενόησα βίην Ἡρακληείην
| εἴδωλον, αὐτὸς δὲ μετ᾽ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι.
166 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Er the Souls about to be born again do not actually visit the
νῶτον οὐρανοῦ.
Be this as it may, the region of the νῶτον οὐρανοῦ, as
described in the Phaedrus, is either the actual abode, or in
close touch with the stars (Zim. 42 B), which are the actual
abodes, of the purified ones who have drunk of Mnemosyne, and
“always remember ”—“ philosophers,” who have been trans-
lated from the “ True Surface of the Earth,” as we read in the
Phaedo (114 Cc): of φιλοσοφίᾳ ἱκανῶς καθηράμενοι ἄνευ τε
σωμάτων ζῶσι τὸ παράπαν εἰς τὸν ἔπειτα χρόνον καὶ εἰς
οἰκήσεις ἔτι τούτων καλλίους ἀφικνοῦνται ἃς οὔτε ῥάδιον
δηλῶσαι οὔτε ὁ χρόνος ἱκανὸς ἐν τῷ παρόντι. The abode of
these purified ones,in or within sight of the super-sensible region,
corresponds to the Empyrean or motionless Heaven of Dante,
‘the tenth and outermost Heaven, in which the blessed really
dwell, although they appear, ἐν εἰδώλου εἴδει, in all the nine
moving Spheres to the poet as he ascends.’
I wish to conclude this section of my observations on the
Myth of Er with a few words about the view maintained by
Mr. Adam in his note on Rep. 617 B, 11 :-
᾿Ανάγκης yovaorv.—Plato means us to imagine Necessity as
seated in the centre of the Universe. The notion is probably
Pythagorean ; for Parmenides, who attaches himself to the Pytha-
goreans in this part of his system (Zeller,® i. p. 572), speaks of a
central ᾿Ανάγκη as the cause of all movement and birth; see
Diels, Dox. Gr. 335. 12 ff—rédv δὲ συμμιγῶν (80. στεφανῶν) τὴν
μεσαιτάτην ἁπάσαις ToKéa πάσης κινήσεως Kal γενέσεως ὑπάρχειν,
ἥντινα καὶ δαίμονα κυβερνῆτιν καὶ κλῃδοῦχον ἐπονομάζει δίκην καὶ
ἀνάγκην; and Zeller, lc. p. 577, n. 3 (Zeller identifies this
᾿Ανάγκη with the central fire of the Pythagoreans). The same
school seem also to have held that ᾿Ανάγκη surrounds and holds
the world together (Diels, l.c. 321), and Zeller thinks it is this
external ᾿Ανάγκη of which Plato here avails himself (/.c. p. 434,
n. 3). But it is quite clear that Plato’s ᾿Ανάγκη is in the middle.
I agree with Mr. Adam in rejecting Zeller’s view that it is
the external ᾿Ανάγκη of which Plato here avails himself, and
in thinking that Plato’s ᾿Ανάγκη is in the middle. But in
1 Par, iv. 28-39. The appearance of a certain Saint in a certain moving
Sphere is a sign of his or her position in the graded hierarchy of the Empyrean,
or Unmoved Heaven, in which all the Saints have their real abode. A Saint who
appears to Dante in the Lunar Sphere, for example, has a lower position in the
Empyrean than one who appears in the Sphere of Jupiter.
THE MYTH OF ER 167
what middle? Not in the Pythagorean middle of the Universe,
which is not the Karth, but the Central Fire. The throne of
᾿Ανάγκη is certainly placed by Plato either on or within the
Earth, which is in the middle of his Universe. Mr. Adam,
with, I venture to think, too much regard for ἀκριβολογία,
maintains that it is within, not on the surface of, the Earth.
“Tf the light is ‘straight like a pillar,” he writes (note on
6168, 13), “and stretches ‘through all the Heaven and the
Earth,’ it follows that as the Earth is in the middle of the
Universe, the ‘middle of the light’ will be at the centre of the
Karth. No other interpretation of κατὰ μέσον τὸ φῶς is
either natural or easy. It would seem, therefore, that at the
end of the fourth day after leaving the Meadow the Souls are
at the central point both of the Universe and of the Earth, as
is maintained by, among others, Schneider and Donaldson ; and
this view is also in harmony with some of the most important
features of the remaining part of the narrative.”
My view is that the throne of Necessity is on the surface
of the Earth, at that spot where the pillar of light—the axis
on which the Cosmos revolves—was seen, by the Pilgrim Souls
as they approached, to touch the ground—seen, with the
accompanying knowledge (so characteristic of dream-experience )
that it goes through the Earth and comes out at the antipodal
spot. I do not think that we ought to press the phrase κατὰ
μέσον τὸ φῶς, as Mr. Adam does. Apart from the fact that
the Pythagorean or Parmenidean central ᾿Ανάγκη was not in
the centre of the Harth, the whole scenery of the Myth and
its general fidelity to mythological tradition seem to me to be
against putting Plato’s throne of Necessity, as Mr. Adam does,
in the centre of the Earth. The Myth begins by telling us
that the Souls came, some of them out of the Earth, some of
them down from “ Heaven,” to the Meadow. The Meadow is
certainly on the surface of the Earth. Their journey thence to
the throne of Necessity is evidently on the surface of the
Earth,—they have the sky above them; they see the pillar of
light in the sky before them for a whole day, the fourth day
of their march, as they approach it. There is no suggestion of
their going down on that day into Tartarus in order to reach
the “middle of the light” at the centre of the Earth. Those
of them who came out of Tartarus are still out of it, and are
108 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
not going back into it. And those who came out of the region
described as οὐρανός, “ Heaven,” are still out of that region.
Hence, if I am right in identifying the οὐρανός of the Rep.
with the “True Surface of the Earth” of the Phaedo Myth,
Mr. Adam cannot be right when he says, 616 B,11 (cf. 614
c,n.), that “ Plato in all probability thinks of the λειμών as
somewhere on the True Surface of the Earth described by him
in the Myth in the Phaedo,and it is apparently along this
surface that the Souls progress until they come in view of the
light.” The True Surface of the Earth and Tartarus, accord-
ing to my view, were both equally left when the λειμών was
reached. The Souls are now journeying along the “ Third
Way,’ which leads, under the open sky, by the throne of
Necessity, and then by the River of Lethe, eis γένεσιν. The
River of Lethe does not appear in the list of the subterranean
or infernal rivers given in the Phaedo;' the mythological
tradition (observed even by Dante, as we have seen) places it
under the open sky—probably the sky of the wnder-world—
the antipodal hemisphere of the Earth. And the φέρεσθαι
ἄνω εἰς τὴν γένεσιν ἄττοντας ὥσπερ ἀστέρας (6218), from
which Mr. Adam (citing den. vi. 748 ff.) infers “that the
Souls, just before their re-incarnation, are underground,” seems
to me, on the contrary, entirely in accordance with the view
that, encamped near the River of Lethe, they are on the sur-
face of the Earth, under the open sky, up into which they
shoot in various directions like meteors,—surely an inappro-
priate picture if they were down in a cavern somewhere at the
centre of the Earth.
The whole movement, in short, of the Myth of Er, from
the meeting of the two companies of Souls at the Meadow
onwards, is above ground, under the open sky. From afar
they see a pillar of light reaching down through the sky to
1 Olympiodorus, Schol. in Phaedonem, connects the list of infernal rivers with
Orphic Patties παραδιδόμενοι τέσσαρες ποταμοὶ κατὰ τὴν ᾿Ορφέως παράδοσιν
τοῖς ὑπογείοις ἀναλογοῦσι 5’ στοιχείοις τε καὶ κέντροις κατὰ δύο ἀντιθέσεις. ὁ
μὲν γὰρ Πυριφλεγέθων τῷ πυρὶ καὶ τῇ ἀνατολῇ, ὁ δὲ Κωκυτὸς τῇ γῇ καὶ τῇ
δύσει, ὁ δὲ ᾿Αχέρων ἀέρι τε καὶ μεσημβρίᾳ. τούτους μὲν ᾿Ορφεὺς οὕτω διέταξεν,
αὐτὸς δὲ τὸν Ὠκεανὸν τῷ ὕδατι καὶ τῇ ἄρκτῳ mpocoxeot. Here the River of
Lethe does not appear.
Roscher (art. ‘‘ Lethe”) gives the following mentions of Lethe: Simonides,
Epig. 184 (Bergk)—this is the first mention, but the authorship is doubtful ;
Aristoph. Ranae, 186; Plato, Rep. 621; Plutarch, Cons. ad Apoll. ch. 15, in
quotation from a dramatic writer; Virg. Aen. vi. 705, 715; Lucian, de Zuctu,
§§ 2-9; Mort. Dial. 13. 6, 23. 2; Ovid, Ep. ex Pont. 2, 4, 23.
THE MYTH OF ER 169
the Earth; and, because Plato, the Dreamer of the Myth,
recognises this pillar as the axis of the Cosmos—the cause of
its necessary revolutions—lo! when the Souls are come to the
foot of the pillar, it is no longer a pillar reaching down
through the sky that they see, but Necessity herself sitting on
Earth, on her throne, with a model of the Cosmos revolving in
her lap.
There is another point on which I feel obliged to
differ from Mr. Adam. “It is clear,” he says (note on Step,
616 c), “that the light not only passes through the centre of
the Universe, but also, since it holds the heavens together like
the undergirders of men-of-war, round the outer surface of the
heavenly sphere "—.e. the ends of the light which passes round
the outer surface are brought inside the sphere, and, being
joined in the middle, form the pillar. This seems to me to
make too much of the man-of-war, or trireme. It is enough
to take Plato to say that the pillar (which alone is mentioned)
holds the Universe together in its particular way, as the
ὑποζώματα, in their particular way, hold the trireme together.
And if there is a light passed round the outer surface of the
Heaven, as well as one forming its axis, why do the Pilgrim
Souls see only the latter? The Heavens are diaphanous. The
Pilgrims ought, if Mr. Adam’s view is correct, to see not only
the pillar of light rising vertically from the horizon at a certain
fixed point towards which they journey, but also another band
of light—that which surrounds the outside of the Universe—
travelling round with the motion of the sphere of the fixed
stars from East to West. |
IV
I shall now conclude what I have to say about the Myth
of Er with a few words on the great philosophical question
raised in it. I mean the question of How to reconcile Free
Will with the Reign of Law. Both are affirmed in the Myth.
The Pilgrim Souls are conducted to a spot at which they see,
with their own eyes, the working of the Universal Law—they
stand beside the axis on which the Cosmos revolves, and see
clearly that the revolutions “cannot be otherwise.” They see
that the axis of the Cosmos is the spindle of ᾿Ανάγκη :—and,
1τὸ THE MYTHS OF PLATO
behold! there sits ᾿Ανάγκη herself on her throne, and there are
the three Fates, with solemn ritual, ordering the succession of
events in time according to the law of ᾿Ανάγκη. Yet, within
the very precincts of the court of ᾿Ανάγκη in which they
stand, the Pilgrim Souls hear the Prophet telling them in the
words of Lachesis, that “they are free to choose, and will be
held responsible for their, choice.” Plato here presents the
Idea of Freedom mythically under the form of a prenatal act
of choice—the choice, it is to be carefully noted, not of par-
ticular things, but of a Whole Life—the prenatal “choice” of
that whole complex of circumstances in which particular things
are chosen in this earthly life. Each Soul, according to its
nature, clothes itself in certain circumstances —comes into,
and goes through, this earthly life in circumstances which it
has itself chosen—that is, in circumstances which are to be
regarded not as forcing it, or dominating it mechanically
from without, but as being the environment in which it
exhibits its freedom or natural character as a living creature."
Among the circumstances of a Life “chosen,” a fixed character
of the Soul itself, we are told, is not included——~puyjs δὲ
τάξιν οὐκ ἐνεῖναι (Rep. 618 B)—because the Soul is modified
by the Life which it chooses. This means that the Soul,
choosing the circumstances, or Life, chooses, or makes itself
responsible for, its own character, as afterwards modified, and
necessarily modified, by the circumstances, or Life. In other
words, a man is responsible here on Earth for actions pro-
ceeding from a connate character which is modified here in
accordance with the circumstances of a general scheme of life
made unalterable by Necessity and the Fates before he was
born—aipeic@w βίον ᾧ σύνεσται ἐξ ἀνάγκης (Rep. 617 £).
In presenting Moral Freedom under the Reign of Natural
Law mythically, as Prenatal Choice made irrevocable by
᾿Ανάγκη, Plato lays stress, as he does elsewhere, on the
unbroken continuity of the responsible Self evolving its
character in a series of life-changes. It is the choice made
before the throne of ᾿Ανάγκη which dominates the behaviour
1 It was chiefly in order to express this relation between living creature and
environment that Leibniz formulated his theory of Pre-established Harmony.
We may say of Leibniz’s theory what he says himself of Plato’s doctrine of
dvduynois—that it is “myth’—‘‘toute fabuleuse” (Nowveaux Essais, Avant-
propos, p. 196 b, ed. Erdmann),
THE MYTH OF ER 171
of the Soul in the bodily life on which it is about to enter;
but the choice made before the throne of ᾿Ανάγκη depended
itself on a disposition formed in a previous life; the man who
chooses the life of a tyrant, and rues his choice as soon as he
has made it, but too late, had been virtuous in a previous
life, ἔθει ἄνευ φιλοσοφίας ---- ἷβ virtue had been merely
“customary,” without foundation upon consciously realised
principle (Zep. 619 6). Plato thus makes Freedom reside
in esse, not in operari.! To be free is to be a continuously
existing, self-affirming, environment-choosing personality,
manifesting itself in actions which proceed, according to
necessary law, from itself as placed once for all in the
environment which it has chosen—its own natural environ-
ment—the environment which is the counterpart of its own
character. It is vain to look for freedom of the will in some
power of the personality whereby it may interfere with the
necessary law according to which character, as modified up to
date, manifests itself in certain actions. Such a power, such
a liberum arbitrium indifferentiae, would be inconsistent with
the continuity, and therefore with the freedom and respon-
sibility, of the Self. It is, in other words, the freedom of the
“noumenal,” as distinguished from the “phenomenal” Self,
which Plato presents as the “prenatal choice of a Life ”—
mythically ; which is, indeed, the only way in which such a
transcendental idea can be legitimately presented. αἱρείσθω
βίον ᾧ σύνεσται ἐξ ἀνάγκης" ἡ δ᾽ ἀρετὴ ἀδέσποτον. A
certain Life, with all its fortunes and all its influences on
character, when once chosen, is chosen irrevocably.” But,
none the less, it is a life of freedom, for “ Virtue is her own
mistress.” In being conscious of Virtue—that is, of Self as
1 For the distinction, see Schopenhauer, Parerga und Paralipomena, ii. § 117 ;
Die Welt als Wille u. Vorstellung, vol. ii. pp. 364, 365 ; and Die Grundlage der
Moral, §10. In the last of these passages Schopenhauer (explaining the dis-
tinction between the ‘‘intelligible” and the ‘‘empirical” character, the latter of
which is related to the former as operari is to esse—operari sequitur esse) quotes
Porphyry (in Stobaeus, Eel. 8. §§ 37-40): τὸ yap ὅλον βούλημα τοιοῦτ᾽ ἔοικεν
εἶναι τοῦ Πλάτωνος ἔχειν μὲν τὸ αὐτεξούσιον τὰς ψυχὰς πρὶν εἰς σώματα καὶ
βίους διαφόρους ἐμπεσεῖν, εἰς τὸ ἢ τοῦτον τὸν βίον ἑλέσθαι ἢ ἄλλον.
2 Hobbes’ “ Sovereign, once chosen, ever afterwards irremovable,” is a “ founda-
tion-myth”; the social order which constrains individuals to conformity is
accounted for ‘‘mythically” by a prehistoric act of choice exercised by indi-
viduals. They willed themselves into the social order, and may not will them-
ain out of it. A ‘‘ categorical imperative” is laid upon them to act as social
eings.
172 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
striving after the good or self-realisation—the Soul is conscious
of its own freedom. This consciousness of “ freedom,” involved
in the consciousness of “ Virtue,’ is better evidence for the
reality of freedom than the inability of the logical faculty
to understand freedom is against its reality. As Butler
says, “The notion of necessity is not applicable to practical
subjects, 7.e. with respect to them is as if it were not true.
. . . Though it were admitted that this opinion of necessity
were speculatively true, yet with regard to practice it is as if
it were false.” ἢ
One other point and I have done with the Myth of Er:
The momentary prenatal act of choice which Plato describes
in this Myth is the pattern of like acts which have to be
performed in a man’s natural life. Great decisions have to be
made in life, which, once made, are irrevocable, and dominate
the man’s whole career and conduct afterwards.- The chief
use of education is to prepare a man for these crises in his
life, so that he may decide rightly. The preparation does
not consist in a rehearsal, as it were, of the very thing to be
done when the crisis comes,—for the nature of the crisis
cannot be anticipated—but in a training of the will and
judgment by which they become trustworthy in any difficulty
which may be presented to them. The education given to
the φύλακες of Plato’s Καλλίύπολιες is a training of this kind.
Its aim is to cultivate faculties rather than to impart special
knowledge. It is a “liberal education” suitable to free men
of the governing class, as distinguished from technical instruc-
tion by which workmen are fitted for the routine of which
they are, so to speak, the slaves.
1 Analogy, i. 6.
THE POLITICUS MYTH
INTRODUCTORY REMARKS
WE have now done with the three purely Eschatological Myths,
and enter on a series of Myths which are mainly Aetiological.
We begin with the Myth of the Alternating World-periods in
the Politicus.
The Cosmos has alternating periods, according as God
either goes round with and controls its revolution, or lets go
the helm and retires to his watch-tower. When God lets go
the helm, the Cosmos, being a ξῴῷον with its own σύμφυτος
ἐπιθυμία, and subject, like all creatures, to εἱμαρμένη, begins
to revolve in its own direction, which is opposite to God's
direction. The change of direction—the least possible change
if there is to be change at all—we must ascribe to the change-
able nature of the material Cosmos, and not either to God,
who is unchangeable, imparting now one motion and then its
contrary, or to the agency of another God. When God, then,
lets go the helm, the Cosmos begins of itself to revolve back-
wards; and since all events on Earth are produced by the
revolution of the Cosmos, the events which happened in one
cosmic period are reproduced backwards in the next. Thus
the dead of one period rise from their graves in the next as
grey-haired men, who gradually become black-haired and
beardless, till at last, as infants, they vanish away. This is
the account of the fabled γηγενεῖς. They were men who died
and were buried in the cosmic period immediately preceding
that of Cronus—the Golden Age of Cronus, when the Earth
brought forth food plenteously for all her children, and men
and beasts, her common children, talked together, and δαίμονες,
not mortal men, were kings (ef. Laws, 713). But at last the
stock of earthen men ran out—ro γήϊνον ἤδη πᾶν ἀνήλωτο
173
174 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
γένος (Pol. 272 pD)—and the age of Cronus came to an end:
God let go the helm, and the Cosmos changed the direction
of its revolution, the change being accompanied by great
earthquakes which destroyed all but a few men and animals.
Then the Cosmos calmed down, and for a while, though re-
volving in its own direction, not in God’s, yet remembered
God, and fared well; but afterwards forgot him, and went
from bad to worse; till God, of his goodness, saved struggling
men, now no longer earth-born, from destruction by means of
the fire of Prometheus and the arts of Athena and Hephaestus.
In due time he will close the present period—that of Zeus—
by again taking the helm of the Cosmos. Then will be the
Resurrection of the Dead. Such, in brief, is the Myth of the
Changing World-periods in the Politicus.
Like the Myths already examined, this one deals with
God’s government of man as a creature at once free to do
good and evil, and determined by cosmic influences over
which he—and even God the Creator himself, whether from
lack or non-use of power hardly matters—have no control.
The Myth differs from those which we have examined in not
being told by Socrates himself. It is told by an Eleatic
Stranger, who says that the younger Socrates, who is present
with the elder, will appreciate a μῦθος, or story. Similarly,
Protagoras prefaces the Myth which he tells (Prot. 820 0)
by saying that it will suit Socrates and the others—younger
men than himself.
The Eleatic Stranger in the Politicus tells his Myth
ostensibly in order to bring it home to the company that
they have defined “kingship” too absolutely—as if the king
were a god, and not a human being. Gods directly appointed
by the great God were kings on this Earth in a former period;
but in the period in which we now live men are the only
kings. Kingship must now be conceived “naturalistically ”
as a product of human society ; and human society itself, like
the whole Cosmos of which it is a part, must be conceived
“naturalistically ” as following its own intrinsic law without
divine guidance ab extra. ‘To enforce a “ naturalistic” estimate
of kingship is the ostensible object of the Myth; but it soars
high, as we shall see, above the argument which it is ostensibly
introduced to serve.
THE POLITICUS MYTH 175
CONTEXT
The subject of the Politicus is the True Statesman,
The best form of government, if we could get it, would be
the rule of one eminently good and wise man, who knew and
desired the Chief Good of his People, and possessed the art of
securing it for them. His unlimited personal initiative would
be far better than the best administration of “laws” made only
because he could not be found, and because such rulers as were
actually available could not be trusted with unlimited initiative.
But before we try to determine exactly the nature of the
True Statesman—the man whom we should like to make King,
if we could find him; and before we try to define his Art, and
distinguish it from all other arts—and we must try to do this,
in order that we may get a standard by which to judge the
work-a-day rulers, good and bad, whose administration of the
“laws” we are obliged to accept as substitute for the personal
initiative of the True Statesman,—before we try to formulate
this standard, let us raise owr eyes to an even higher standard :
God is the True Ruler of men; and in the Golden Age he
ruled men, not through the instrumentality of human rulers,
but Gods were his lieutenants on Earth, and lived among men,
and were their Kings.
It is with this Golden Age, and the great difference between
it and the present age, and the cause of the difference, that
the Myth told to the elder and the younger Socrates, and to
Theodorus the mathematician, by the Stranger from Flea, is
concerned.
170 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Politicus, 268 κ--274 αὶ
—_ a / a
268 E EER. ᾿Αλλὰ δὴ τῷ μύθῳ μου πάνυ πρόσεχε τὸν νοῦν,
καθάπερ οἱ παῖδες: πάντως οὐ πολλὰ ἐκφεύγεις παιδιᾶς ἔτη.
NE, ΣΩ. Aéyous ἄν.
EE. Ἦν τοίνυν καὶ ἔτι ἔσται τῶν πάλαι λεχθέντων
πολλά τε ἄλλα καὶ δὴ καὶ τὸ περὶ τὴν ᾿Ατρέως τε καὶ
Θυέστου λεχθεῖσαν ἔριν φάσμα. ἀκήκοας γάρ που καὶ
> / ¢ / /
ἀπομνημονεύεις ὅ φασι γενέσθαι τότε.
NE. ΣΩ. To περὶ τῆς χρυσῆς ἀρνὸς ἴσως σημεῖον
7
φράζεις.
269 EE. Οὐδαμῶς, ἀλλὰ τὸ περὶ τῆς μεταβολῆς δύσεώς τε
καὶ ἀνατολῆς ἡλίου καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ἄστρων, ὡς ἄρα ὅθεν
\ > / a bf fal / \ , 0. 7
μὲν ἀνατέλλει νῦν, εἰς τοῦτον τότε τὸν τόπον ἐδύετο,
᾿Ξ δα ἀν. a b) / / \ \ / ” e
ἀνέτελλε δ᾽ ἐκ Tov ἐναντίου, τότε δὲ δὴ μαρτυρήσας apa ὁ
θεὸς ᾿Ατρεῖ μετέβαλεν αὐτὸ ἐπὶ τὸ νῦν σχῆμα.
NE. ΣΩ. Λέγεται γὰρ οὖν δὴ καὶ τοῦτο.
EE. Καὶ μὴν αὖ καὶ τήν γε βασιλείαν, ἣν ἦρξε
a /
Κρόνος, πολλῶν ἀκηκόαμεν.
Β NE, ΣΩ. Πλείστων μὲν οὖν.
EE. Τί δέ; τὸ τοὺς ἔμπροσθεν φύεσθαι γηγενεῖς καὶ
μὴ ἐξ ἀλλήλων γεννᾶσθαι ;
NE. 202. Καὶ τοῦτο & τῶν πάλαι λεχθέντων.
-- ω , Μ \ / b] > a
BE. Ταῦτα τοίνυν ἔστε μὲν ξύμπαντα ἐκ ταὐτοῦ
, \ \ , “ " \ , y
πάθους, Kal πρὸς τούτοις ἕτερα μυρία Kal τούτων ἔτι
/ _ a
θαυμαστότερα, διὰ δὲ χρόνου πλῆθος τὰ μὲν αὐτῶν
> / \ / yy \ “ ᾽ ᾽
ἀπέσβηκε, τὰ δὲ διεσπαρμένα εἴρηται χωρὶς ἕκαστα ἀπ
᾽ nr
σ ἀλλήλων. ὃ δ᾽ ἐστὶ πᾶσι τούτοις αἴτιον TO πάθος, οὐδεὶς
εἴρηκε, νῦν δὲ δὴ λεκτέον: εἰς γὰρ τὴν τοῦ βασιλέως
ἀπόδειξιν πρέψει ῥηθέν.
NE, ΣΩ. Καάλλιστ᾽ εἶπες, καὶ λέγε μηδὲν ἐλλείπων.
ΤῊΝ POLIJTICUS MYTH 177
TRANSLATION
Stranger. Here beginneth my wonderful Tale! Be as a
child, and listen! for indeed not fur art thou gotten from the
years of childish things.
Socrates.’ Let us hear it.
Stranger. Well, of those things which have been told from
old time, there be many which came to pass, and shall yet
again come to pass: whereof I count the Sign which appeared
when that Strife the Old Story telleth of was between Atreus
and Thyestes; for, methinks, thou hast heard what they say
came then to pass, and rememberest it well.
Socrates. Is it of the marvel of the Golden Lamb that thou
speakest ἢ
Stranger. Not of that, but of the change in the setting
and rising of the sun and stars; for the story goes that in the
quarter whence they now rise in that did they then set, rising
from the opposite quarter; but that God, bearing witness for
Atreus, changed them into the way which they now keep.
Socrates. That story also I know.
Stranger. And of the kingship of Cronus, too, have we
heard many tell.
Socrates. Yea, very many.
Stranger. And, moreover, do they not tell of how men at
first grew out of the earth, and were not begotten of their
kind ?
Socrates. That also is one of the old stories.
Stranger. Well, of all these things one thing is cause;
yea, of innumerable other things also which are more wonder-
ful than these things; but by reason of length of time most
are vanished, and of the rest mention is made separately of
each, as of that which hath no fellowship with the other
things. But of that which is the cause of all these things no
man hath spoken. Let it therefore now be told; for when it
hath been set forth, it will help to our proof concerning the
King.
Socrates. Good! Go on, and leave out nothing.
} Socrates the Younger is the interlocutor throughout the whole passage
translated.
N
D
E
270
178 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
-- ᾽ / μ»μ Ν \ a ὃ \ \ ᾽ Ν e
EE. ᾿Ακούοις av. τὸ yap πᾶν τόδε τοτὲ μὲν αὐτὸς ὁ
\ a ’ \ a \ ’ > A
θεὸς ξυμποδηγεῖ πορευόμενον καὶ συγκυκλεῖ, τοτὲ δ᾽ ἀνῆκεν,
“ e / lal / ᾽ al / /
ὅταν ai περίοδοι τοῦ προσήκοντος αὐτῷ μέτρον εἰλήφωσιν
» , \ \ , ae ᾽ ᾽ , ΄
ἤδη χρόνου, τὸ δὲ πάλιν αὐτόματον εἰς τἀναντία περιά-
a x Ν / \ ᾽ a /
yetat, ζῶον ὃν καὶ φρόνησιν εἰληχὸς ἐκ τοῦ συναρμόσαντος
>. ᾽ > , - \ > A \ ᾽ 7 >/ ὃ Ν
αὐτὸ Kat ἀρχάς. τοῦτο δὲ αὐτῷ τὸ ἀνάπαλιν ἰέναι διὰ
Τῶν > ᾽ / Μ /
Tod) ἐξ ἀνάγκης ἔμφυτον γέγονεν.
A 7
NE. ΣΩ. Διὰ τὸ ποῖον δή;
Ν \ \ > \ \ e / ” > \ \ > \
EE. To κατὰ ταὐτὰ καὶ ὡσαύτως ἔχειν ἀεὶ καὶ ταὐτὸν
a / , \
εἶναι τοῖς πάντων θειοτάτοις προσήκει μόνοις, σώματος δὲ
΄ ? , A ΄ a \ ᾽ \ \ /
φύσις ov ταύτης τῆς τάξεως. ὃν δὲ οὐρανὸν Kai κόσμον
lo \ / \ lo
ἐπωνομάκαμεν, πολλῶν μὲν καὶ μακαρίων Tapa τοῦ
/ , >? \ 2 \ / , \
γεννήσαντος μετείληφεν, ἀτὰρ οὖν δὴ κεκοινώνηκέ ye Kal
’ ev > A a ᾽ / / \
σώματος. ὅθεν αὐτῷ μεταβολῆς ἀμοίρῳ γίγνεσθαι διὰ
\ > / \ / ’ \ ¢ / ᾽
παντὸς ἀδύνατον, κατὰ δύναμίν γε μὴν ὅ τι μάλιστα ἐν
“ » “ \ ᾽ \ / \ al \ \ ᾽
τῷ αὐτῷ κατὰ ταὐτὰ μίαν φορὰν κινεῖται" διὸ τὴν ἀνα-
> A “ /
κύκλησιν εἴληχεν, O TL σμικροτάτην THs αὑτοῦ κινήσεως
\ \
παράλλαξιν. αὐτὸ δὲ ἑαυτὸ στρέφειν ἀεὶ σχεδὸν οὐδενὶ
\ \ “- - 7, - , . ,ὕ
δυνατὸν πλὴν τῷ τῶν κινουμένων αὖ πάντων ἡγουμένῳ.
~ \ / \ \ ” “ \ > / >
κινεῖν δὲ τούτῳ τοτὲ μὲν ἄλλως, αὖθις δὲ ἐναντίως ov
/ ᾽ / \ / \ / / > \ \
θέμις. ἐκ πάντων δὴ τούτων τὸν κόσμον μήτε αὐτὸν χρὴ
/ / e \ δι δ 3 io “ a e \ an
φάναι στρέφειν ἑαυτὸν ἀεί, μήτ᾽ αὖ ὅλον ἀεὶ ὑπὸ θεοῦ
/ \ \ ᾽ ,ὔ , pg a /
στρέφεσθαι διττὰς καὶ ἐναντίας περιαγωγάς, μήτ᾽ αὖ δύο
\ ‘ a e aA ᾽ / / , / ᾽ ᾽
τινὲ θεὼ φρονοῦντε ἑαυτοῖς ἐναντία στρέφειν αὐτὸν, ἀλλ
“ ΝΜ ᾽ 7 \ / / \ \ ᾿ ᾽ ”
ὅπερ ἄρτι ἐρρήθη καὶ μόνον λοιπόν, τοτὲ μὲν ὑπ᾽ ἄλλης
la / >. 27 \ -“ / ᾽ ,
συμποδηγεῖσθαι θείας αἰτίας, τὸ ζῆν πάλιν ἐπικτώμενον
\ / > ’ J \ \ -
καὶ λαμβάνοντα ἀθανασίαν ἐπισκευαστὴν παρὰ τοῦ
- κ ᾽ ted , - ᾽ ξ - ’ \ 7
δημιουργοῦ, τοτὲ δ᾽ ὅταν ἀνεθῇ, δι ἑαυτοῦ αὐτὸν ἰέναι,
\ \ Ι] / A “ ᾽ ’ /
κατὰ καιρὸν ἀφεθέντα τοιοῦτον, ὥστε ἀνάπαλιν πορεύ-
’ \ / x
εσθαι πολλὰς περιόδων μυριάδας διὰ TO μέγιστον ὃν
᾿ al \
καὶ ἰσορροπώτατον ἐπὶ σμικροτάτου βαῖνον ποδὸς
»"
Leva,
ΤῊΝ POLITICUS MYTH 179
Stranger. Hearken! This Universe, for a certain space of
time, God himself doth help to guide and propel in the circular
motion thereof; and then, when the cycles of the time
appointed unto it have accomplished their measure, he letteth
it go. Then doth it begin to go round in the contrary direc-
tion, of itself, being a living creature which hath gotten
understanding from him who fashioned it in the beginning.
This circuit in the contrary direction belongeth of necessity to
the nature of the Universe because of this—
Socrates. Because of what ?
Stranger. Because that to be constant in the same state
alway, and to be the same, belongeth only to those things
which are the most divine of all; but the nature of Body is not
of this order. Now, that which we call Heaven and Universe
hath been made, through him who begat it, partaker of many
blessed possessions; but, mark this well, Body also is of the
portion thereof. Wherefore it is not possible that it should
be wholly set free from change, albeit, as far as is possible, it
revolveth in the same place, with one uniform motion: for
this reason, when it changed, it took unto itself circular
motion in the contrary direction, which is the smallest
possible alteration of the motion which belongeth unto it.
Now, to be constant alway in self-motion is, methinks, im-
possible save only with him who ruleth all the things which
are moved; and move them now in this direction and
again in that he may not. From all this it followeth
that we must not say that the Universe either of itself
moveth itself alway, or again is alway wholly moved by
God to revolve now in one direction and then in the contrary
direction; nor must we say that there be two Gods which,
being contrariously minded, do cause it so to revolve; but
we must hold by that which was just now said and alone
remaineth, to wit, that at one time it is holpen and guided by
the power of God supervening, and hath more life added unto
it, and receiveth immortality from the Creator afresh; and
then, at another time, when it is let go, it moveth of it-
self, having been so opportunely released that thereafter it
journeyeth in the contrary direction throughout ages innumer-
able, being so great of bulk, and so evenly balanced, and turn-
ing on so fine a point.
180 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
κ \ / a
B NE. 52. Φαίνεται γοῦν δὴ καὶ para εἰκότως εἰρῆσθαι
πάνθ᾽ ὅσα διελήλυθας.
=E , ὃ) / \ / » A
EE. Λογισάμενοι δὴ ἕξυννοήσωμεν τὸ πάθος ἐκ τῶν
κ A ω »
νῦν λεχθέντων, ὃ πάντων ἔφαμεν εἶναι τῶν θαυμαστῶν
wv a? /
αἴτιον. ἔστι yap οὖν δὴ τοῦτ᾽ αὐτό.
NE, ΣΩ. Τὸ ποῖον ;
\ la \ 5 »"»
EE. To τὴν τοῦ παντὸς φορὰν τοτὲ μὲν ἐφ ἃ νῦν
“ πον ,ὔ
κυκλεῖται φέρεσθαι, τοτὲ δ᾽ ἐπὶ τἀναντία.
NE, ΣΩ. Πῶς δή;
/ \ \ a a an
EE. Ταύτην τὴν μεταβολὴν ἡγεῖσθαι δεῖ τῶν περὶ τὸν
Ν / “ ΄ s /
Ο οὐρανὸν γιγνομένων τροπῶν πασῶν εἶναι μεγίστην καὶ
/
τελεωτάτην τροπήν.
NE, =. Ἔοικε γοῦν.
’
ΞΕ. Μεγίστας τοίνυν καὶ μεταβολὰς χρὴ νομίζειν
/ “- Ν Lal lal a
γίγνεσθαι τότε τοῖς ἐντὸς ἡμῖν οἰκοῦσιν αὐτοῦ.
γὼ >
NE, ΣΩ. Καὶ τοῦτ᾽ εἰκός.
\ \ /
EE. MeraBoras δὲ μεγάλας καὶ πολλὰς Kal παντοίας
/ @ 9 > Μ \ a , / Ld
συμφερομένας ap οὐκ ἴσμεν τὴν τῶν ζώων φύσιν ὅτι yare-
πῶς ἀνέχεται ;
nw ,
NE, ΣΩ. Πῶς 8 οὔ;
/ /
EE. Φθοραὶ τοίνυν ἐξ ἀνάγκης τότε μέγισται ξυμβαί-
»" / wn
Dvovot. τῶν τε ἄλλων ζώων, Kal δὴ Kal τὸ τῶν ἀνθρώπων
, ? / , Ν δὲ , ”
γένος ολίγον TL περιλείπεται. περὶ ὃὲ τούτους ἄλλα TE
παθήματα πολλὰ καὶ θαυμαστὰ καὶ καινὰ ξυμπίπτει,
/ lal a \
μέγιστον δὲ τόδε καὶ ξυνεπόμενον τῇ Tod παντὸς ἀνειλίξει,
e ΄ “ a / ’
τότε ὅταν ἡ τῆς νῦν καθεστηκυίας ἐναντία γίγνηται
τροπή.
ΝΕ. ΣΩ. Τὸ ποῖον ;
‘ μ᾿ "Ψ A a
BE. Ἣν ἡλικίαν ἕκαστον εἶχε τῶν ζώων, αὕτη πρῶτον
» , A ‘
ty ἔστη πάντων, καὶ ἐπαύσατο πᾶν ὅσον ἣν θνητὸν ἐπὶ
μ 7)
‘ / ᾿ὃ Lal / / δὲ / ᾽ \
τὸ γεραίτερον ἰδεῖν πορευόμενον, μεταβάλλον δὲ πάλιν ἐπὶ
7 7 \ lol
E τοὐναντίον οἷον νεώτερον καὶ ἁπαλώτερον ἐφύετο. καὶ τῶν
Ἁ e ’ -" ’
μὲν πρεσβυτέρων ai λευκαὶ τρίχες ἐμελαίνοντο, τῶν ὃ αὖ
᾽ , \
γενειώντων αἱ παρειαὶ λεαινόμεναι πάλιν ἐπὶ τὴν παρελ-
rn ᾿ , a“
θοῦσαν ὥραν ἕκαστον καθίστασαν, τῶν δὲ ἡβώντων τὰ
, , / ᾽ ᾽ /
σώματα λεαινόμενα Kal σμικρότερα καθ᾽ ἡμέραν Kal νύκτα
‘ ; / / ᾽ \ an lol \
ἑκάστην γιγνόμενα πάλιν εἰς THY τοῦ νεογενοῦς παιδὸς
\ \ \ re
φύσιν ἀπήει, κατά τε THY ψυχὴν Kal κατὰ τὸ σῶμα
᾽ , ᾽ ε » ’ »" \
ἀφομοιούμενα' τὸ δ᾽ ἐντεῦθεν ἤδη papawopeva κομιδῇ τὸ
᾽ ᾿ ͵ ΄ δ᾽ ς ’ , 5
πάμπαν ἐξηφανίζετο. τῶν av βιαίως τελευτώντων ἐν
THE POLITICUS MYTH 181
Socrates. All this, methinks, hath great likelihood.
Stranger. Let us then reason with ourselves, and compre-
hend from this that which, coming to pass, is, as we said,
the cause of all these wonders. Well, it is this.
Socrates. What?
Stranger. The circulur motion of the Universe going as it
now goeth, and then at another time going in the contrary
direction.
Socrates. How?
Stranger. This alteration we must needs deem to be of
all the changes which are accomplished in the Heaven the
change which is greatest and most complete.
Socrates. So it would seem.
Stranger. And we must conclude that by reason of it the
greatest changes are then accomplished for us who dwell
within this Universe.
Socrates. That also is likely.
Stranger. Now, when changes many and great and of all
sorts come to pass, is it not true that the nature of living
creatures hardly endureth them ?
Socrates. Yea, ’tis true.
Stranger. So it is then, of necessity, that beasts do perish
most, and of mankind only a little remnant is left; and unto
these men do many things strange and new happen, but the
strangest is that which attendeth the rolling back of the
Universe when the motion contrary to this which is now
established cometh to be.
Socrates. What is that ?
Stranger. Then cometh it to pass that the age of every
creature, according as his time of life is, first standeth still,
and mortals are all stayed in that course which maketh them
look older and older: but presently they begin to go in the
contrary direction—that is to say, they grow younger and more
tender ; and the hoary locks of the old man become black, and
the cheeks of the bearded man become smooth, and he is
restored to the bygone springtime of his life; and the lad
becometh smooth again, and smaller day after day and night
after night, till he cometh back, soul and body, unto the
nature and likeness of a new-born child; and thereafter he
ever dwindleth away, and at the last utterly vanisheth. Like-
271
182 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
τῷ τότε χρόνῳ TO TOU νεκροῦ σῶμα ταὐτὰ ταῦτα πάσχον
παθήματα διὰ τάχους ἄδηλον ἐν ὀλίγαις ἡμέραις διεφθεί-
ρετο.
NE. =. Γένεσις δὲ δὴ τίς τότ᾽ Fv, ὦ Eve, ζώων ;
καὶ τίνα τρόπον ἐξ ἀλλήλων ἐγεννῶντο ;
EE. Δῆλον, ὦ Σώκρατες, ὅτι τὸ μὲν ἐξ ἀλλήλων οὐκ
ἣν ἐν τῇ τότε φύσει γεννώμενον, τὸ δὲ γηγενὲς εἶναί ποτε
γένος λεχθέν, τοῦτ᾽ ἣν τὸ κατ᾽ ἐκεῖνον τὸν χρόνον ἐκ γῆς
πάλιν ἀναστρεφόμενον, ἀπεμνημονεύετο δὲ ὑπὸ τῶν ἡμετέρων
προγόνων τῶν πρώτων, οἱ τελευτώσῃ μὲν τῇ προτέρᾳ
περιφορᾷ τὸν ἑξῆς χρόνον ἐγειτόνουν, τῆσδε δὲ κατ᾽ ἀρχὰς
ἐφύοντο’ τούτων γὰρ οὗτοι κήρυκες ἐγένονθ᾽ ἡμῖν τῶν
λόγων, οἱ νῦν ὑπὸ πολλῶν οὐκ ὀρθῶς ἀπιστοῦνται. τὸ
γὰρ ἐντεῦθεν, οἶμαι, χρὴ ξυννοεῖν. ἐχόμενον γάρ ἐστι τῷ
τοὺς πρεσβύτας ἐπὶ τὴν τοῦ παιδὸς ἰέναι φύσιν, ἐκ τῶν
τετελευτηκότων αὖ, κειμένων δ᾽ ἐν γῇ, πάλιν ἐκεῖ ξυνιστα-
μένους καὶ ἀναβιωσκομένους ἕπεσθαι τῇ τροπῇ συνανακυ-
κλουμένους Σ εἰς τἀναντία τῆς γενέσεως, καὶ γηγενεῖς δὴ
κατὰ τοῦτον τὸν λόγον ἐξ ἀνάγκης φυομένους οὕτως ἔχειν
τοὔνομα καὶ τὸν λόγον, ὅσους μὴ θεὸς αὐτῶν εἰς ἄλλην
μοῖραν ἐκόμισεν.
NE. 20. Κομιδῇ μὲν οὖν τοῦτό γε ἕπεται τοῖς
ἔμπροσθεν. ἀλλὰ δὴ τὸν βίον ὃν ἐπὶ τῆς Κρόνου φὴς
εἶναι δυνάμεως, πότερον ἐν ἐκείναις ἣν ταῖς τροπαῖς ἢ ἐν
ταῖσδε; τὴν μὲν γὰρ τῶν ἄστρων τε καὶ ἡλίου μεταβολὴν
δῆλον ὡς ἐν ἑκατέραις ξυμπίπτει ταῖς τροπαῖς γίγνεσθαι.
EE. Καλῶς τῷ λόγῳ ξυμπαρηκολούθηκας. ὃ δ᾽ ἤρου
περὶ τοῦ πάντα αὐτόματα γίγνεσθαι τοῖς ἀνθρώποις, ἥκιστα
τῆς νῦν ἐστι καθεστηκυίας φορᾶς, ἀλλ᾽ hv καὶ τοῦτο τῆς
ἔμπροσθεν. τότε γὰρ αὐτῆς πρῶτον τῆς κυκλήσεως ἦρχεν
ἐπιμελούμενος ὅλης ὁ θεός: ὡς νῦν κατὰ τόπους, ταὐτὸν
τοῦτο ὑπὸ θεῶν ἀρχόντων πάντῃ τὰ τοῦ κόσμου μέρη
διειλημμένα. καὶ δὴ καὶ τὰ ζῶα κατὰ γένη καὶ ἀγέλας
οἷον νομῆς θεῖοι διειλήφεσαν δαίμονες, αὐτάρκης εἰς πάντα
ἕκαστος ἑκάστοις ὧν οἷς αὐτὸς ἔνεμεν, ὥστε οὔτ᾽ ἄγριον ἣν
οὐδὲν οὔτε ἀλλήλων ἐδωδαί, πόλεμός τε οὐκ ἐνῆν οὐδὲ
στάσις τὸ παράπαν' ἄλλα θ᾽, ὅσα τῆς τοιαύτης ἐστὶ
κατακοσμήσεως ἑπόμενα, μυρί ἂν εἴη λέγειν. τὸ δ᾽ οὖν τῶν
| ἑπόμενον. 2 συνανακυκλουμένης.
THE POLITICUS MYTH 183
wise the corpses of them that have died by violence at this
time go through the same changes quickly, and in a few days
are dissolved and gone clean out of sight.
Socrates, But how were creatures then brought forth,
and after what manner were they begotten of their kind 7
Stranger. It is manifest, O Socrates, that none was then
naturally begotten of his kind, but that the earth-born kind
they tell of was that which came up again from the earth in
those days, whereof our first forefathers had remembrance
who lived in the time next after the end of the former
Period, being born at the beginning of this present one.
From their mouth hath word concerning these things
come down unto us: which of many is ποῦ believed;
but herein they err; for consider what followeth next :—
After the old men who go back to childhood, there follow in
their turn the men who are already dead and lying in their
graves; these begin therein to be compacted anew out of their
elements, and when his time cometh unto each of them in
the cycle of generation whose motion is contrary to the former
motion, he riseth from the dead. Thus were men, of necessity,
earth-born in those days, and this name of earth-born which
we have received is the true name of them all, save of those
whom God translated to some other portion.
Socrates. Yea, indeed, this followeth from that which
went before. But tell me—the life thou sayest men led
when Cronus reigned, was it in that Period or in this?
For ‘tis plain that the change whereof thou speakest in the
course of the stars and the sun falleth to happen in each.
Stranger. Well hast thou followed the argument; and
thy question is to be answered thus:—That the age when
all things came forth spontaneous for the use of man con-
grueth not with this present motion, but with that which
was before; for then did God control with his providence the
whole revolution, and all the parts of the Universe every-
where were divided amongst gods appointed to rule over them,
as now gods rule over certain places; and, moreover, living
creatures, according to their kinds, were assigned unto angels,
as flocks unto divine shepherds, each angel being wholly suffi-
cient in all things for his own flock, so that there was then
no savagery, no devouring of one another, no war or sedition
184 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
, /
ἀνθρώπων λεχθὲν αὐτομάτου πέρι βίου διὰ τὸ τοιόνδε
v \ v bl] \ ᾽ \ ᾽ a ’ -»"
εἴρηται. θεὸς ἔνεμεν αὐτοὺς αὐτὸς ἐπιστατῶν, καθάπερ νῦν
- ΕΝ / ’
ἄνθρωποι, ζῶον ὃν ἕτερον θειότερον, ἄλλα γένη φαυλότερα
c - / / \ ᾽ / Ὁ 4 > 3
αὑτῶν νομεύουσι. νέμοντος δὲ ἐκείνου πολιτεῖαί τε οὐκ ἦσαν
᾽ \ ’ὔ A \ / ᾽ fal \ ᾽ ’
272 οὐδὲ κτήσεις γυναικῶν καὶ παίδων: ἐκ γῆς γὰρ ἀνεβιώσκοντο
\ 7 al /
πάντες, οὐδὲν μεμνημένοι τῶν πρόσθεν: ἀλλὰ τὰ μὲν
a ΒΝ ὡς / \ \ ᾽ / 3 > f
τοιαῦτα ἀπῆν πάντα, καρποὺς δὲ ἀφθόνους εἶχον ἀπὸ Te
ral Μ
δένδρων καὶ πολλῆς ὕλης ἄλλης, οὐχ ὑπὸ γεωργίας
/ ? ᾽ ’ / ? / - a \
φυομένους, ἀλλ᾽ αὐτομάτης avadidovens τῆς γῆς. γυμνοὶ
\ \ ” A \ \ δ oe \ \
δὲ Kai ἄστρωτοι θυραυλοῦντες Ta πολλὰ ἐνέμοντο: τὸ γὰρ
a eon. ? a » ol \ \ ον .
τῶν ὡρῶν αὐτοῖς ἄλυπον ἐκέκρατο, μαλακὰς δὲ εὐνὰς εἶχον
, A / / με
ἀναφυομένης ἐκ γῆς πόας apOovov. τὸν δὴ βίον, ὦ
A / 7 ,
Β Σώκρατες, ἀκούεις μὲν τὸν τῶν ἐπὶ Κρόνου: τόνδε 8,
A , > \ \ - Ν ’ἢ \ > \ v
ὃν λόγος ἐπὶ Διὸς εἶναι, τὸν νυνί, παρὼν αὐτὸς ἤσθησαι.
- ᾽ ᾽ - \ ? 7 @ ? A 7 / \
κρῖναι ὃ αὐτοῖν τὸν εὐδαιμονέστερον ap ἂν δύναιό τε Kal
ἐθελήσειας ;
NE, ΣΩ. Οὐδαμῶς.
— lo / /
EE. Βούλει δῆτα ἐγώ σοι τρόπον τινὰ διακρίνω ;
NE. ΣΩ. Πάνυ μὲν οὗν.
--- / a /
BE. Ee μὲν τοίνυν of τρόφιμοι tod Κρόνου, παρούσης
> a ev A A \ / \ \ \
αὕτοις οὕτω πολλῆς σχολῆς καὶ δυνάμεως πρὸς τὸ μὴ
/
μόνον ἀνθρώποις ἀλλὰ καὶ θηρίοις διὰ λόγων δύνασθαι
C ξυγγίγνεσθαι, κατεχρῶντο τούτοις ξύμπασιν ἐπὶ φιλοσοφίαν,
μετά τε θηρίων καὶ μετ’ ἀλλήλων ὁμιλοῦντες, καὶ πυνθα-
/ \ , / Μ / γ.39ϑ 4
νόμενοι Tapa πάσης φύσεως εἴ Twa Tis ἰδίαν δύναμιν
Μ Μ 7 A Μ ᾽ Ν
ἔχουσα ἤσθετό τι διάφορον τῶν ἄλλων εἰς συναγυρμὸν
fal ω /
φρονήσεως, evKpiTov, OTL τῶν νῦν οἱ τότε μυρίῳ πρὸς
> ,ὔ 7 > ‘ ᾽ 7 / “ ἈΝ
εὐδαιμονίαν διέφερον. εἰ δὲ ἐμπιπλάμενοι σίτων ἅδην καὶ
- /
ποτῶν διελέγοντο πρὸς ἀλλήλους Kal τὰ θηρία μύθους, οἷα
4 \ - \ ᾽ lol / \ lal “
Ὁ δὴ καὶ τὰ νῦν περὶ αὐτῶν λέγονται, καὶ τοῦτο, ὥς γε
,
κατὰ τὴν ἐμὴν δόξαν ἀποφήνασθαι, καὶ μάλ᾽ εὔκριτον.
ὅμως δ᾽ οὖν ταῦτα μὲν ἀφῶμεν, ἕως ἂν ἡμῖν μηνυτής τις
THE POLITICUS MYTH 185
at all; nay, time would fail to tell of all the consequences of
that dispensation.
Now, therefore, hearken, and I will declare the truth that
is in the old Tale of the time when all things came forth
spontaneous. God himself was then the Overseer and Shep-
herd of men, even as now man, being as a god amongst the
creatures which are beneath him, is the shepherd of their
tribes. When God was our Shepherd there was no civil
government, and men had not wives and children, but all came
up into life again from the Earth, without remembrance of
aught before. Instead of these things they had in abundance,
from trees and other plants, fruits which the Earth without
husbandry brought forth spontaneous. For the most part they
lived without raiment and without couches, in the open air;
for the seasons were tempered to do them no hurt; and soft
beds had they in the grass which sprang abundantly from the
Earth.
Now have I told thee, Socrates, of the life which was when
Cronus reigned ; as for the life which now is, which they say
is under the rule of Zeus, thou art here thyself and knowest
what it is. Canst thou, and wilt thou, determine which of
these two lives is the happier ?
Socrates. I cannot.
Stranger. Shall I then determine this for thee after some
sort ?
Socrates. Prithee do.
Stranger. Well then, if the nurslings of Cronus, having
so great leisure and faculty of joining in discourse not only
with men but with beasts, made use of their opportunity all
for the getting of wisdom, conversing with beasts and one
with another, and inquiring everywhere of Nature if haply any
part thereof had some peculiar faculty, and perceived, better
than another part, aught which might be of advantage for the
ingathering of true knowledge,—if this, I say, was their manner
of life, ‘twould be no hard matter to determine our question :
they were a thousand times happier than we are. And even
if, after they had eaten and drunken their fill, they passed the
time telling tales one to another and to the beasts—such tales
as even to this day are told of them,—’twould still, I declare,
be easy to determine our question; nevertheless, let us put
186 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
΄ - e /
ἱκανὸς φανῇ, ποτέρως οἱ τότε Tas ἐπιθυμίας εἶχον περί τε
᾽ lol \ a a / 7 o ’ oe \
ἐπιστημῶν καὶ τῆς τῶν λόγων χρείας" ov δ ἕνεκα τὸν
εκ ᾽ / an / ‘/ \ \ lal > \
μῦθον ἠγείραμεν, τοῦτο λεκτέον, ἵνα TO μετὰ τοῦτο εἰς TO
, , > \ \ 7, / /
πρόσθεν περαίνωμεν. Enresdn yap πάντων τούτων χρόνος
ἐτελεώθη καὶ μεταβολὴν ἔδει γίγνεσθαι καὶ δὴ καὶ τὸ
Ju v -“ » / / / e / a a
Ἑ γήϊνον ἤδη πᾶν ἀνήλωτο γένος, πάσας ἑκάστης τῆς ψυχῆς
213
σ
Ν / 5» / e - ς /
Tas γενέσεις ἀποδεδωκυίας, ὅσα ἣν ἑκάστῃ προσταχθέν,
lal κ / \ n
τοσαῦτα εἰς γῆν σπέρματα πεσούσης, τότε δὴ τοῦ παντὸς
e \ / e ὃ / ” > / > \
ὁ μὲν κυβερνήτης, οἷον πηδαλίων οἴακος ἀφέμενος, εἰς τὴν
e ia \ ’ / \ \ \ / , | ee
αὑτοῦ περιωπὴν ἀπέστη, τὸν δὲ δὴ κόσμον πάλιν ἀνέ-
- 7 \ 7, > , ͵΄ Ως
στρεφεν εἱμαρμένη τε καὶ ξύμφυτος ἐπιθυμία. πάντες οὖν
/ A /
οἱ κατὰ τοὺς τόπους συνάρχοντες τῷ μεγίστῳ δαίμονι θεοί,
ad \ / > , 5 >! / a /
γνόντες ἤδη TO γιγνόμενον, ἀφίεσαν ad τὰ μέρη τοῦ κόσμου
“- ς κα > / ς \ , \
τῆς αὑτῶν ἐπιμελείας. ὁ δὲ μεταστρεφόμενος καὶ Evp-
/ ᾽ a \ a 3 / e \ e /
βάλλων, ἀρχῆς τε Kal τελευτῆς ἐναντίαν ορμὴν ορμηθείς,
σεισμὸν πολὺν ἐν ἑαυτῴ ποιῶν, ἄλλην αὖ φθορὰν ζώων
.«
, » / \ \ lal ’ ς lal
παντοίων ἀπειργάσατο. μετὰ δὲ ταῦτα προελθόντος ἱκανοῦ
/ / \ an SYA / \ nr
χρόνου, θορύβων τε καὶ ταραχῆς ἤδη παυόμενος Kal τῶν
A / b , "“ \ > / /
σεισμῶν, γαλήνης ἐπιλαβόμενος εἴς τε τὸν εἰωθότα δρόμον
τὸν ἑαυτοῦ κατακοσμούμενος ἤει, ἐπιμέλειαν καὶ κράτος
> A A a \ a A
ἔχων αὐτὸς τῶν ἐν αὑτῷ τε καὶ ἑαυτοῦ, THY τοῦ δημιουργοῦ
\ \ > 4 \ > / ,’
καὶ πατρὸς ἀπομνημονεύων διδαχὴν εἰς δύναμιν. κατ
ἀρχὰς μὲν οὖν ἀκριβέστερον ἀπετέλει, τελευτῶν δὲ ἀμβλύ-
/ \ » al \ \ “ /
τερον. τούτων δὲ αὐτῷ TO σωματοειδὲς τῆς συγκράσεως
nw / “
αἴτιον, τὸ τῆς πάλαι ποτὲ φύσεως ξύντροφον, ὅτι πολλῆς
cy / , / \ ᾽ Ν fal / > /
ἣν μετέχον ἀταξίας πρὶν εἰς τὸν viv κόσμον ἀφικέσθαι.
\ Ν \ a / , / \
παρὰ μὲν yap τοῦ συνθέντος πάντα καλὰ κέκτηται" Tapa
\ a » “ Ὁ \ \ Μ) > > ~
δὲ τῆς ἔμπροσθεν ἕξεως, ὅσα χαλεπὰ καὶ ἄδικα ἐν ovpav@
/ ΄ b] > / > / Μ \ a ,
γίγνεται, ταῦτα ἐξ ἐκείνης αὐτὸς Te ἔχει καὶ τοῖς ζώοις
, / \ \ = an / \ la
ἐναπεργάζεται. μετὰ μὲν οὖν τοῦ κυβερνήτου τὰ ζῶα
A “ Ν /
τρέφων ἐν αὑτῷ σμικρὰ μὲν φλαῦρα, μεγάλα δὲ ἐνέτικτεν
᾽ , , ‘ , / \ , , / VE
ἀγαθά' χωριζόμενος δὲ ἐκείνου τὸν ἐγγύτατα χρόνον ἀεὶ
ΤῊΝ POLITICUS MYTH 187
it away, until some one shall appear who is able to show
us credibly which way these ancients were inclined in regard
of knowledge and discourse: meanwhile let us speak of that
for the sake whereof this Tale was started, that the next part
of our argument may go forward.
When the time of all these men was fulfilled, and the
change must needs come, and of the generation of them that
arose out of the Earth there was none left, and every Soul had
rendered her tale of births, according to the number of times
appointed for her to fall and be sown upon the Earth, then
did the Governor of the Universe let go, as it were, the tiller,
and depart into his own watch-tower, and Fate and inborn
Impulse began to cause the Universe to revolve backwards
again, Straightway all the gods which, in their several
places, bore rule together with the Great God, when they
knew what was done, likewise left their provinces without
oversight. Then was the Universe shaken as with a great
earthquake through his depths by reason of the concussion of
the reversed revolution and the strife betwixt the two con-
trary motions whereof the one was ending and the other
beginning; whereby was wrought a fresh destruction of
living creatures of every kind.
Thereafter, when the due time was accomplished, the
Universe at last ceased from tumults and confusion and
earthquakes, and coming into a calm, and being set in order for
the course wherein it useth to go, therein went, itself having
superintendency and dominion over itself and all that in it is,
calling to mind alway, as it was able, the teaching of the
Maker and Father of all.
At first the things which it brought forth were more
perfectly wrought, but at last more roughly: the cause
whereof was the corporeal part which was mixed in the
original nature of things, the which was full of confusion
before that it came unto the present order. From Him who
composed it the Universe hath all things fair and good; but
from the former state thereof come all the things difficult and
unrighteous which in itself it hath, and bringeth to pass in
the creatures which it fashioneth. Therefore when it was with
the Governor, the evil creatures it brought forth were few,
and the good were in abundance; but when it was separated
188 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
a » / / / / «/ \ lal
τῆς ἀφέσεως κάλλιστα πάντα διάγει, προϊόντος δὲ τοῦ
, \ / ᾽ , > ᾽ a 7 \
χρόνου Kal λήθης ἐγγιγνομένης ἐν αὐτῷ μᾶλλον Kal δυνα-
7 \ A A ’ / / lol \
Ὁ στεύει TO τῆς παλαιᾶς ἀναρμοστίας πάθος, τελευτῶντος δὲ
a A ’
ἐξανθεῖ τοῦ χρόνου καὶ σμικρὰ μὲν τἀγαθά, πολλὴν δὲ τὴν
΄- bl / a ᾽ / δι᾿, a
τῶν ἐναντίων κρᾶσιν ἐπεγκεραννύμενος ἐπὶ διαφθορᾶς
/ e a > a \ A ᾽ e a \ \
κίνδυνον αὑτοῦ τε ἀφικνεῖται καὶ τῶν ἐν αὑτῷ. διὸ δὴ
\ , 9 ww \ e / ᾽ / a > ᾽ /
καὶ ToT ἤδη θεὸς ὁ κοσμήσας αὐτόν, καθορῶν ἐν ἀπορίαις
Μ / “ \ \ e Ν fel \
ὄντα, κηδόμενος ἵνα μὴ χειμασθεὶς ὑπὸ ταραχῆς διαλυθεὶς
᾽ \ a ’ / » Ν / 4 /
εἰς τὸν τῆς ἀνομοιότητος ἄπειρον ὄντα τόπον δύῃ, πάλιν
Μ > A A / / \ / \
ἔφεδρος αὐτοῦ τῶν πηδαλίων γιγνόμενος, τὰ νοσήσαντα Kal
/ ᾽ a ’ id \ / / /
Ἑ λυθέντα ἐν τῇ καθ᾽ ἑαυτὸν προτέρᾳ περιόδῳ στρέψας
a \ ᾽ “ ᾽ / > \ \ > /
κοσμεῖ τε Kal ἐπανορθῶν ἀθάνατον αὐτὸν καὶ ἀγήρων
> 7 - \ 2 / ΄ ΄, y \ ᾽
ἀπεργάζεται. τοῦτο μὲν οὖν τέλος ἁπάντων εἴρηται" τὸ ὃ
᾽ \ \ - 7 ᾽ / ξ \ ΕἸ a /
ἐπὶ τὴν τοῦ βασιλέως ἀπόδειξιν ἱκανὸν ἐκ τοῦ πρόσθεν
᾿ / -“" / / \ 3 - /
ἁπτομένοις τοῦ λόγους στρεφθέντος yap αὖ τοῦ κόσμου
\ >? \ \ -“ 7 tay \ 7 ΄ ’ὔ 4 ,
τὴν ἐπὶ τὴν νῦν γένεσιν ὁδὸν TO τῆς ἡλικίας αὖ πάλιν
“/ Ν \ ’ , ᾽ ,ὔ a , \ \
ἴστατο Kal καινὰ τἀναντία ἀπεδίδου τοῖς τότε. Ta μὲν
\ ¢ \ / ᾽ / / ’ / a ,
yap ὑπὸ σμικρότητος ὀλίγου δέοντα ἠφανίσθαι τῶν ζώων
᾽ ’ \ ᾽ ᾽ A ~ , \ / /
ηὐξάνετο, Ta δ᾽ ἐκ γῆς νεογενῆ σώματα πολιὰ φύντα πάλιν
᾽ / ᾽ A U \ a / / /
ἀποθνήσκοντα εἰς γῆν κατήει. Kal τἄλλά τε πάντα μετέ-
> / \ a a a \
274 βαλλεν, ἀπομιμούμενα καὶ ξυνακολουθοῦντα Tw τοῦ παντὸς
, \ \ ‘ ‘ a , \ ; ‘
παθήματι, Kal δὴ Kal TO τῆς κυήσεως καὶ γεννήσεως καὶ
- / a lol ld , > / ᾽ \
τροφῆς μίμημα συνείπετο τοῖς πᾶσιν ὑπ ἀνάγκης. οὐ yap
” “ ᾽ 7 A
ἐξῆν ἔτ᾽ ἐν yn δι ἑτέρων συνιστάντων φύεσθαι ζῶον, ἀλλὰ
7 A . -
καθάπερ TM κόσμῳ προσετέτακτο αὐτοκράτορα εἶναι τῆς
e a / “ \ \ ’ \ \ a / Ι] tal
αὑτοῦ πορείας, οὕτω δὴ κατὰ ταὐτὰ καὶ τοῖς μέρεσιν αὐτοῖς
» ‘ - ᾽ " Ud , ° / \ ~ \
δι᾿ αὑτῶν, καθ᾽ ὅσον οἷον +r ἣν, φύειν τε Kal γεννᾶν καὶ
/ 7 ΄ Ν A . / ᾽ A Φ με
τρέφειν προσετάττετο ὑπὸ τῆς ὁμοίας ἀγωγῆς. οὗ δὲ ἕνεκα
BO λόγος ὥρμηκε πᾶς, ἐπ᾿ αὐτῷ νῦν ἐσμεν ἤδη. περὶ μὲν
ΤῊΝ POLITICUS MYTH 189
from him, at first for a while after the separation it performed
all things exceeding well; and then, as time went on, and
forgetfulness grew more and more within it, discord, inherent
from of old, gained ever greater mastery and at last burst
forth; and things good that were produced being few, and the
admixture of the opposite sort being great, the Universe came
into danger of being destroyed together with all that was in it.
Wherefore, when things were come to this pass, God, who
fashioned this Order, perceiving that it was in distress, and
careful lest, being tossed in the storm of so great a tumult, it
should be loosed asunder and founder down into the measure-
less deep of Confusion, again took up His post at the helm ;
and having turned round that which was gone the way of
disease and dissolution in the former Period when the
Universe was left to itself, put all in order, and restored the
Universe to the right way, and made it exempt from death
and old age.
Here endeth the Tale: now let us return, and take up
the beginning thereof, which will suffice for our setting forth
of “ The King.”
When the Universe was turned back, and went the way
of this present sort of generation, then again did man’s age
first stand still, and thereafter straightway began to bring
forth things new, in the order contrary to that of the former
period; for those creatures which, by reason of their small-
ness, were all but vanished away, began to grow bigger, and
the bodies of men newly come forth from the Earth, which
were born grey-headed, died again, and went down into the
Earth; and all other things were likewise changed, according
to the changed condition of the Universe, their Example and
Controller; and among these things which were of necessity
so changed were the Conception and Birth and Nourishment
of living creatures; for no longer could a living creature
grow in the Earth, compacted together out of his elements
by others, but even as it was ordained unto the Universe to
be master of his own path, so also was it ordained, by the like
law, that the parts of the Whole, of themselves, as far as might
be, should bring forth, and beget, and provide nourishment.
Now, therefore, are we come whither our Whole Discourse
was bound.
190 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
yap τῶν ἄλλων θηρίων πολλὰ ἂν καὶ μακρὰ διεξελθεῖν
γίγνοιτο, ἐξ ὧν ἕκαστα καὶ & ἃς αἰτίας μεταβέβληκε:
\ \ ? ’ ’ \ a /
περὶ δὲ ἀνθρώπων βραχύτερα Kai μᾶλλον προσήκοντα.
- fa) A /
τῆς yap τοῦ κεκτημένου Kal νέμοντος ἡμᾶς δαίμονος ἀπερη-
/ a A
μωθέντες ἐπιμελείας, τῶν πολλῶν αὖ θηρίων, ὅσα χαλεπὰ
\ , - > , > \ q \s A »
τὰς φύσεις ἦν, ἀπαγριωθέντων, αὐτοὶ δὲ ἀσθενεῖς ἄνθρωποι
\ ? / / ,ὔ Oy ᾿ \ 7.
καὶ ἀφύλακτοι γεγονότες, διηρπάζοντο ὑπ αὐτῶν, Kal ἔτ
\ ,
ἀμήχανοι καὶ ἄτεχνοι κατὰ τοὺς πρώτους ἦσαν χρόνους,
“ an \ > / -“ ᾽ 7 / \
ἅτε τῆς μὲν αὐτομάτης τροφῆς ἐπιλελοιπυίας, πορίζεσθαι δὲ
\ / \ /
οὐκ ἐπιστάμενοί πω διὰ TO μηδεμίαν αὐτοὺς χρείαν πρότερον
᾽ /
ἀναγκάζειν. ἐκ τούτων πάντων ἐν μεγάλαις ἦσαν ἀπορίαις.
/ al A a
ὅθεν δὴ τὰ πάλαι λεχθέντα παρὰ θεῶν δῶρα ἡμῖν dSedwpn-
fol / A
ται pet ἀναγκαίας διδαχῆς καὶ παιδεύσεως, πῦρ μὲν παρὰ
/ 2 7 A
Προμηθέως, τέχναι δὲ παρ᾽ Ἡφαίστου καὶ τῆς συντέχνου,
/ \ 3 \ \ Ψψ \ ͵7 ᾽ e /
σπέρματα δὲ av καὶ φυτὰ Tap addAwv: Kat πάνθ᾽, ὁπόσα
/ 4 /
τὸν ἀνθρώπινον βίον συγκατεσκεύακεν, ἐκ τούτων γέγονεν,
b \ \ \ b] κ e b / an / la ? ,
ἐπειδὴ τὸ μὲν ἐκ θεῶν, ὅπερ ἐρρήθη νῦν δή, τῆς ἐπιμελείας
> 7 > , x» e a \ ὧν / \ ‘
ἐπέλιπεν ἀνθρώπους, δι᾿ ἑαυτῶν δὲ ἔδει τήν τε διαγωγὴν Kal
Ν ? / ’ \ Cis » 7 ¢ e ,
τὴν ἐπιμέλειαν αὐτοὺς αὑτῶν ἔχειν, καθάπερ ὅλος ὁ κόσμος,
ρὔὕ;, / \ / \ "ὦ ’ - \
© ξυμμιμούμενοι καὶ ξυνεπόμενοι τὸν ἀεὶ χρόνον νῦν μὲν
ῳ / ae , ait, \ / \ ᾿ \
οὕτως, τότε δὲ ἐκείνως ζῶμέν τε Kal φυόμεθα. Kal TO μὲν
ἊΝ κ / / ψὰ ΣΕ / \ ee. /
δὴ τοῦ μύθου τέλος ἐχέτω, χρήσιμον δὲ αὐτὸν ποιησόμεθα
πρὸς τὸ κατιδεῖν, ὅσον ἡμάρτομεν ἀποφηνάμενοι τὸν
/ \ \ 2 a / /
βασιλικὸν τε Kal πολιτικὸν ἐν τῷ πρόσθεν λόγῳ.
THE POLITICUS MYTH 191
As for the beasts of the field, to tell how and by what
causes they were changed would be a long story; but our
proper concern is man, and a shorter story will suffice.
When we were bereft of the care of the god which had
gotten us to keep and tend, then came it to pass, because
the multitude of wild beasts, being fierce by nature, were
become more savage, and we ourselves were become weak
and defenceless, that we were harried by them; and, more-
over, at first, we were helpless, and without the aid of the
arts; for the food which grew spontaneous was now lacking,
and we knew not yet how to provide food, because that
aforetime need had not constrained us to make provision.
By reason of all these things were men in sore straits: where-
fore it came to pass that those Gifts from the Gods whereof
the old stories tell were bestowed upon us, together with the
teaching and training which were needful; to wit, fire from
Prometheus, and the arts from Hephaestos and his mate; and
seeds and herbs from others: yea, all things which have
furnished man’s life were thus brought forth, ever since the
time when the watch kept over us by the Gods, as I said
just now, failed us, and it behoved us to spend our lives by
ourselves, caring for ourselves; even as the whole Universe
must care for itself; the which we imitating and following
alway throughout all ages do live and grow up, now after this
manner, and then again after that manner.
Here endeth our Tale; the use whereof will be to make
us see how wrongly we set forth the nature of the King and
Statesman in our former Discourse.
Before I go on to offer observations on the Politicus Myth,
I will supplement the foregoing translation of it by giving a
translation of the Myth of the Golden Age of Cronus as it
appears also in the Laws,
192 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Laws 7125-7144
112 E ΑΘ. Ὄντως yap, ὦ ἄριστοι, πολιτειῶν μετέχετε: ἃς
\ b] / lal » 3 ἢ “ \ » ,
δὲ ὠνομάκαμεν νῦν, οὐκ εἰσὶ πολιτεῖαι, πόλεων δὲ οἰκήσεις
713 δεσποζομένων τε καὶ δουλευουσῶν μέρεσιν ἑαυτῶν τισί, τὸ
ca / , ~ ,
tov δεσπότου δὲ ἑκάστη προσαγορεύεται κράτος. χρῆν ὃ,
ν A , \ / Μ 2 / \ a
εἴπερ τοῦ τοιούτου THY πόλιν ἔδει ἐπονομάζεσθαι, TO τοῦ
>, ~ ~ \ “ " / / n v
ἀληθῶς τῶν τὸν νοῦν ἐχόντων δεσπόζοντος θεοῦ ὄνομα
λέγεσθαι.
/
KA. Tis δ᾽ ὁ θεός ;
ΑΘ. "Ap οὖν μύθῳ σμικρά γ᾽ ἔτι προσχρηστέον, εἰ
/ > wn [οἱ Ν rn > ,
μέλλομεν ἐμμελῶς πως δηλῶσαι TO νῦν ἐρωτώμενον ;
οὐκοῦν χρὴ ταύτῃ Spay ;
ΚΛ. Πάνυ μὲν οὗν.
lal ‘ \ / ? »
ΑΘ. Τῶν γὰρ δὴ πόλεων, ὧν ἔμπροσθεν τὰς ξυνοική-
, 4 / / , / ,
Β σεις διήλθομεν, ETL προτέρα τούτων πάμπολυ λέγεταί τις
> / \ Μ ὦ 7 / 7 > /
ἀρχή τε Kal οἴκησις γεγονέναι ἐπὶ Κρόνου μάλ᾽ εὐδαίμων,
ἧς μίμημα ἔχουσά ἐστιν, ἥτις τῶν νῦν ἄριστα οἰκεῖται.
* * * % ok *
, , a ~ ,
713 ¢ φήμην τοίνυν παραδεδέγμεθα τῆς τῶν τότε μακαρίας
“- ΄ » / \ > ,) 7 ᾽ - c \
ζωῆς, ws ἄφθονά τε καὶ αὐτόματα πάντ εἶχεν. ἡ δὲ
’ , / ’ / , ¢ 7 ΕΣ
τούτων αἰτία λέγεται τοιάδε τις" γιγνώσκων ὁ Κρόνος ἄρα,
7 ΄ κ ’ ᾿ ’ ΄
καθάπερ ἡμεῖς διεληλύθαμεν, ὡς ἀνθρωπεία φύσις οὐδὲ μία
ἱκανὴ τὰ ἀνθρώπινα διοικοῦσα αὐτοκράτωρ πάντα μὴ οὐχ
“ , Ν » ’ “ a? - /
ὕβρεώς τε καὶ ἀδικίας μεστοῦσθαι, ταῦτ᾽ οὖν διανοούμενος
5 / / \ v a / ΄ lol >
péediotn βασιλέας TE καὶ ἄρχοντας ταῖς πόλεσιν ἡμῶν οὐκ
᾿ ; ᾽ id /
ἀνθρώπους, ἀλλὰ γένους θειοτέρου τε καὶ ἀμείνονος,
, ΄σ ΄ .“ “ A / \ *
δαίμονας: οἷον viv ἡμεῖς δρῶμεν τοῖς ποιμνίοισι Kal ὅσων
THE MYTH OF THE GOLDEN AGE
Athenian Stranger. The cities whereof we just now spake
are not polities, or true cities, but mere dwelling-places, the
inhabitants whereof are slaves in subjection unto certain ones
among themselves; and each one of these dwelling-places is
called “the government of such and such,” after them that
be masters therein: but, if it is meet that a city should be
called after her masters, the True City will be called after
God, who verily ruleth over men of understanding.
Cleintas. And who is this God 7
Ath. I must still, for a little while, use Fable for the
more convenient answering of thy inquiry—what thinkest
thou ?
Cleinias. Yea—Fable.
Ath. Before that those cities were, the inhabitation
whereof we have set forth in the former part of this Dis-
course—yea, very long time before these—it is told that there
was a Government and Settlement when Cronus was King;
whereof the blessedness was great, and whichsoever city is
now ordered best is an image of that exemplar.
* * ¥* * * *
This, then, is the Tale which we have received concerning
the blessed life of the men who lived in those days: It telleth
that they had all things, without stint, spontaneous, and that
the cause thereof was this: Cronus, saith the Tale, knowing
that Human Nature could in no wise be left with sole
authority in the administration of all things human and yet
not become a vessel filled with insolency and injustice, took
thought of the matter, and set over our cities, to be kings
and rulers thereof, not men, but those of a more divine and
excellent sort, to wit, Daemons; just as we ourselves do with
193 0
194 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
lal lal \ s lol
ἥμεροί εἰσιν ἀγέλαι' ov βοῦς βοῶν οὐδὲ αἶγας αἰγῶν
ν ΄ > lo / » \ e aA , > "»“"
ἄρχοντας ποιοῦμεν αὐτοῖσί τινας, ἀλλὰ ἡμεῖς γ᾽ αὐτῶν
, ” > / / ᾽ \ \ \ e \
δεσπόζξομεν, ἄμεινον ἐκείνων γένος. ταὐτὸν δὴ Kal ὁ θεὸς
ἄρα [καὶ] φιλάνθρωπος ὧν τὸ γένος ἄμεινον ἡμῶν ἐφίστη
τὸ τῶν δαιμό ὃ διὰ AF ὲ ὑτοῖς ᾧ ;
μόνων, ὃ διὰ πολλῆς μὲν αὐτοῖς ῥᾳστώνης,
- ᾽ ~ / al a
Ἑ πολλῆς δ᾽ ἡμῖν ἐπιμελούμενον ἡμῶν, εἰρήνην τε καὶ αἰδῶ
\ > / \ > , / / ? /
καὶ εὐνομίαν καὶ ἀφθονίαν δίκης παρεχόμενον, ἀστασίαστα
καὶ εὐδαίμονα τὰ τῶν ἀνθρώπων ἀπειργάζετο γένη. λέγει
\ \ a“ e ε , > / , e ad x
δὴ καὶ νῦν οὗτος ὁ λόγος ἀληθείᾳ χρώμενος, ὡς ὅσων ἂν
/ \ \ > / ” / > ΝΜ A“
πόλεων μὴ θεὸς ἀλλά τις ἄρχῃ θνητός, οὐκ ἔστι κακῶν
a / a a al
αὐτοῖς οὐδὲ πόνων ἀνάφυξις" ἀλλὰ μιμεῖσθαι δεῖν ἡμᾶς
A \ a / /
οἴεται πάσῃ μηχανῇ Tov ἐπὶ τοῦ Κρόνου λεγόμενον βίον,
\ “ > ¢ κα > , » ΄ ,
καὶ ὅσον ἐν ἡμῖν ἀθανασίας ἔνεστι, τούτῳ πειθομένους
/ ς Mow sg / > ae \ \ , ᾿Ξ
714 δημοσίᾳ καὶ ἰδίᾳ τάς T οἰκήσεις καὶ τὰς πόλεις διοικεῖν,
lal a /
τὴν τοῦ vod διανομὴν ἐπονομάζοντας νόμον.
THE POLITICUS ΜΥΤῊ 195
our cattle and tlocks—for we set not oxen over oxen, or goats
over goats, but we ourselves rule over them, being of a race
more excellent than theirs. In like manner God, they say,
of his loving-kindness toward men, set over us the race of
Daemons, which is more excellent than ours; and they, to
their own great content and to ours, caring for us, and
providing for us peace, and modesty, and good government,
and justice without stint, made the nations of mankind
~ peaceable and happy.
This Tale, then, hath in it truth, inasmuch as it signifieth
that whichsoever city hath not God, but a mortal man, for
ruler, hath no way of escape from evils and troubles: where-
fore, according to the admonition of the Tale, must we by all
means make our life like unto the life which was when
Cronus was King; and in so far as that which is Immortal
dwelleth in us, must we be obedient unto the voice thereof in
all our doings private and public, and govern our households
and cities according to Law, which, being interpreted, is the
Award of Reason.
! This Myth ought to be taken in close connection not only with the Politicus
Myth, but with the Discourse of Diotima, in the Symposiwm, and the doctrine of
Daemons set forth in that Discourse ; for which see pp. 434 ff. infra.
190 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
OBSERVATIONS ON THE Pozi7TIcuS MYTH
I
I cannot do better at the outset than refer the reader for
the general characteristics of the Politicus Myth to Jowett’s
Introduction to the Statesman (Dialogues of Plato), where his
admirable remarks, indeed, leave little to be added. The
philosophical import of the Myth, it will be gathered from
Jowett’s remarks, consists in its presentation of the “ distinc-
tions between God causing and permitting evil, and between
his more or less immediate government of the world.”
Interesting observations will also be found on the art with
which Plato gives verisimilitude to his own Myth “ by adopt-
ing received traditions (as the tradition about the sun having
originally risen in the West and that about the ynyevets)—
traditions of which he pretends to find an explanation in his ©
own larger conceptions.” We have had instances of this art
in the Platonic Myths already examined, which we have found
securing credit to themselves by explaining not only old
traditional Myths, but the facts and doctrines of “ modern
science”; and we have found the same art employed by
Dante.
Having referred to Jowett’s Introduction’ for a general
view of this Myth, I will now add some observations on special
points.
The doctrine of periodical terrestrial “ catastrophes,” uni-
versal or local, leaving on each occasion a few scattered
survivors to build up society afresh, mythologically explained
in the Politicus, was part of the “science” of Plato’s day,? and
was afterwards a prominent tenet of the Peripatetics.®
It was also “ scientific” in Plato’s day to explain at least
the general course of terrestrial phenomena as caused by the
motion of the Heavens. It is thus that the phenomena of
11 would also refer to Grote’s Plato, ii. 480, note s—a long and instructive
note ; and to Stallbaum’s Prolegomena to the Politicus.
2 Laws, iii. 676 ff.
3 See Newman's notes on Arist. Pol, ii. δ. 1269 a 5 and 6,
THE POLITICUS MYTH 197
γένεσις καὶ φθορά in this sublunary region are accounted for
by Aristotle.’
Putting together the occurrence of terrestrial catastrophes
(cf. Zim. 22 ff.) and the influence of the motion of the
Heavens, both vouched for by “science,” Plato imagines the
catastrophes as shocks produced by sudden changes in the
direction of the motion. The western rising of the sun in the
Atreus Myth may have suggested this explanation to him ;
or he may have known the Egyptian tradition recorded
by Herodotus (ii. 142), that during eleven thousand three
hundred and forty years of Egyptian history the sun on four
occasions altered his course, “twice rising where he now sets
and twice setting where he now rises.” Although another
rationale of the Egyptian tradition (or of Herodotus’s version
of it) has been given,” I venture to suggest that whereas Kast
is left and West is right as one faces the mid-day sun in the
northern hemisphere, while East is right and West is left to
the spectator in the southern hemisphere, the “Egyptian
tradition ” was awkwardly built upon the tale of some traveller
coming from south of the equator, who said truly that he had
seen the sun rise on his right hand and set on his left.
II
Zeller (Plato, Eng. Transl. p. 383, n. 44) says, “ Of course
(cf. Zim. 36 Ε, and elsewhere) Plato is not in earnest in
supposing that God from time to time withdraws from the
government of the world.”
Since the supposition of God’s intermittent agency is made
in a Myth, Plato is certainly not “in earnest” with it, in the
sense of laying it down dogmatically as a scientific axiom.
But is he more “in earnest” with the supposition of the
continuous agency of God in the Zimaeus? That supposition
is equally part of a Myth; Zimaeus ipse totus mythicus est.°
The truth is that, however Plato represents God—and he
“a — Gen. et Corr. ii. 10, 336 a 26, and ef. Zeller’s Aristotle, Eng. Transl. i.
0 ff.
2 See Rawlinson’s note ad Zoe.
3 Couturat, de Platonis Mythis, p. 32.
198 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
sometimes represents him in immense cosmic outlines, some-
times on a smaller scale and more anthropomorphically—the
representation is always for the imagination, mythical. And
it ought not to be forgotten that the supposition of God’s
intermittent agency is advanced in the Politicus in order to
explain (mythologically, of course) the fact which Plato does
not shut his eyes to even in the Z%imaeus, where he supposes
(still in Myth) the continuity of God’s government—the fact
of the existence of evil, both physical and moral, in a world
supposed to be governed by God. In maintaining the exist-
ence of evil Plato is certainly “in earnest.”
It is worth noting that the representation given by the
Politicus Myth of the opposition between God and Matter—
good and evil—as an opposition of motions is common to the
Myth with the astronomy of Plato’s day; but whereas the
Politicus Myth makes motion in God’s direction alternate
with motion in the world’s direction, astronomical theory
makes the two motions go on for ever simultaneously, 1.6.
the eternal motion of the whole Cosmos from East to West
carries round the inner spheres, whose own motions take place
from West to Kast.
For a full discussion of the astronomy of the Politicus
Myth I would refer the reader to Mr. Adam’s Republic, vol. 11.
295 ff Mr. Adam’s view is that the two cycles (the motion
in God’s direction, and that in the opposite direction) are of
equal length, and that each of them represents a Great Year
—the Great Year being 36,000 years.
III
Τὸ γήϊνον ἤδη πᾶν ἀνήλωτο γένος (Politicus, 272 Ὁ).
The “ Resurrection” of the Politicus Myth and “ Metempsy-
chosis” may be regarded as parallel products of imagination.
Metempsychosis assumes a fixed number of souls created once
for all and continuing always in existence. New souls are not
created; the souls which animate the bodies of men in each
successive generation are always souls which had been in-
carnate in former generations. In Rep. 6114, Plato ex-
THE POLITICUS MYTH 199
pressly lays it down that the number of souls in existence is
always the same without augmentation or diminution.’ This
tenet involved in Metempsychosis Plato shares with the
aborigines of Australia. Messrs. Spencer and Gillen say :”
The idea is firmly held that the child is not the direct result
of intercourse®—that it may come without this, which merely, as it
were, prepares the mother for the reception and birth of an already
formed spirit child who inhabits one of the local totem centres... .
In the native mind the value of the Churinga (stone or wooden
objects lodged in a cave or other storehouse, near which women
do not puss) lies in the fact that each one of them is intimately
associated with, and is indeed the representative of, one of the
Alcheringa ancestors, with the attributes of which it is endowed.
When the spirit part has gone into a woman, and a child has, as a
result, been born, then that living child is the re-incarnation of
that particular spirit individual.‘
As Metempsychosis makes the same soul, so Resurrection
makes the same body, serve more than one life. There is a
store of old bodies, as there is of souls, upon which a new
generation draws. The store of souls assumed by Metempsy-
chosis is never exhausted, being recruited as fast as it is drawn
upon; but the store of adult bodies in the “ Resurrection” of
the Politicus Myth is at last exhausted, for each adult body,
when in its turn it rises from the dead, grows smaller and
smaller till it becomes the body of an infant and vanishes
away.
One might develop Plato’s myth, and say that it is these
vanished infants which reappear after the manner of ordinary
1 Cf. Rohde, Psyche, ii. 279.
2 The Native Tribes of Central Australia, p. 265.
3 Cf. Myer and Nutt’s Voyage of Bran, ii. 82, on the widespread idea of con-
ception, without male intervention, through swallowing a worm in a drink, or
through some other means.
4 Spencer and Gillen’s Native Tribes of Central Australia, p. 138. Before
going to press I have not had an opportunity of seeing Messrs. Spencer and
Gillen’s new book, The Northern Tribes of Central Australia, but 1 transcribe
the following sentences froma notice of it in the Athenaeum (July 9, 1904) :—
**These tribes believe that in every child the soul of a mythical Alcheringa
ancestor of a given totem is re-incarnated. These totem souls haunt the places,
marked by a tree or rock, where the ancestors ‘went into the ground.’ There
the dying ancestors left stone amulets of a type familiar in Europe and America,
styled chwringa. When a child is born his ancestral churinga is-sought, and
often is found near the place where the totem spirit entered his mother.” Are
the ‘articles belonging to the deceased,” referred to p. 450 infra, parallel to
these Australian amulets ?
900 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
birth, and grow back into adult size, when the revolution of
the Cosmos is reversed, This would be in accordance with
the belief, by no means confined to such primitive minds as
those of the Australian aborigines, observed by Messrs.
Spencer and Gillen, that intercourse is after all not the real
cause of the birth of a child: that the child—hardly dis-
tinguished as “soul” and “ body ”—is one who returns from
the world of the departed and enters into the mother. The
relationship between such a view of the nature of procreation
and the custom of counting kinship through the mother, not
through the father, is of course obvious.
That the notion of Resurrection, then, recommends itself
to the imagination in much the same way as the notion of
Metempsychosis is what I wish to suggest to the student of
the Politicus Myth. The two notions are closely allied and,
indeed, tend to coalesce. The distinction between soul and
body is a hard one for the imagination to maintain; thus it
is very imperfectly maintained in the following instance:
“The Jesuits relate that among the Hurons there were special
ceremonies for little children who died at less than two
months old; their bodies were not put in coffins in the
cemeteries, but buried upon the pathway in order that they
might enter into the body of some passing woman and so be
born again;”?* and it is practically given up in the Christian
Eschatology which insists on the ultimate union of the soul
with its risen body.
IV
My remarks in this section will serve as introduction to
the “ Creation Myths,” which we shall examine next.
The Politicus Myth may be distinguished as Aetiological
from the Eschatological Myths which we have examined
in the Phaedo, Gorgias, and Republic. The Eschatological
Myths are concerned immediately with the Ideas of Reason.
They set forth the Idea of Soul as subject of God’s govern-
' J. E. King on “Infant Burial,” in Classical Review, Feb. 1908, p. 83.
The souls of infants seem always to have caused difficulty ; see Rohde, Psyche,
ii. 411-413, on ἄωροι, and Adam’s note on Rep. 615, τῶν δὲ εὐθὺς γενομένων καὶ
ὀλίγον χρόνον βιούντων πέρι ἄλλα ἔλεγεν οὐκ ἄξια μνήμης.
THE POLITICUS MYTH 201
ment in the Cosmos, by depicting the future vicissitudes of
the ψυχή, not, of course, without reference to its past out of
which its future grows. The Aetiological Myth, on the other
hand, may set forth either Ideas of Reason or Categories of
the Understanding. ‘Thus the 7'imaeus (which is one great
Aetiological Myth) sets forth the Ideas of Soul and Cosmos,
by tracing their imaginatively constructed objects back to
causes which are unfolded in an account of the Creation of the
ψυχή and of the material world. The Phaedrus Myth, again,
sets forth the Categories of the Understanding aetiologically,
by showing that the ἃ priori conditions of our knowledge of
sensible phenomena are abiding mental impressions caused by
a prenatal vision of the Eternal Forms in the ὑπερουράνιος
τόπος. There are other myths which cannot be called either
Aetiological or Eschatological, but are merely Expository
either of Ideas of Reason or of Categories of the Understanding
—thus Diotima’s Myth is an imaginative exposition of the
Idea of Soul as Love of Truth and Immortality, while
the functions of the Understanding are described imagi-
natively in the Zimaeus as revolutions like those of the
Cosmos.
The Politicus Myth, setting forth as it does the Idea of
Soul as subject of God’s government in the Cosmos, is Aetio-
logical in supplying a cause for the Evil which exists in the
world and man’s life under God’s government.
How does Plato think that we are helped out of the
profound difficulty about the existence of Evil by an Aetio-
logical Myth of Changing World-periods? The answer, if we
could give it, would be a complete theory of the influence
which Aetiological Myths exercise over the mind of man.
Here is the greatest difficulty of morals ; and it is easily solved
by a fantastic story of the origin of the thing which makes
the difficulty !
Let me try to explain how Plato comes to attach such
value to this Aetiological Myth. First, Plato thinks that the
immensity of the difficulty is best illustrated in this way—as
the tragic import of a great crisis on the stage or in real life
is sometimes illustrated by the trifling comment or behaviour
of some one present—it may be of a child. Plato thinks that
his Myth, with its childish unconsciousness of difficulty, is
202 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
valuable as enhancing our sense of the immensity of the diffi-
culty, and so helping us to remove the difficulty—the very
difficulty which it makes appear more immense. When we
know the real cause of any particular difficulty of detail we
have got a grip of it, as it were, and can generally overcome
it. We can never get this sort of grip of the difficulty about
the existence of Evil; for it is not a particular difficulty with
a particular discoverable solution, but a universal difficulty—
a contradiction inherent in the very nature of the system
under which we live—it puzzles us, and paralyses us the more
we try to remove it αἰτίας λογισμῴ----ὈΥ particular explana-
tions, more nostro. But Plato’s Myth puts the difficulty once
for all in its true place—exhibits it, in its immensity, as uni-
versal ; and the moral is—You cannot solve it as you solve a
particular difficulty. Do not try to do so. See how immense
itis! “ Put it by "—
The cloud of mortal destiny,
Others will front it fearlessly —
But who, like him, will put it by ?
This is the first part of the answer which I venture
to offer to the question, How does Plato think that
we are helped out of a profound difficulty by a childish
Myth ?
The second part of the answer I venture to state as
follows: It is very hard to “put it by ”—impossible unless
one fancies—it is enough merely to fancy—that one has
somehow, at least partly, solved the difficulty which one is
asked to “put by.” An attempt to solve a fundamental or
universal difficulty logically, by a thin process of reasoning,
can only end in a sense of failure; but a childish Myth, touch-
ing, as it is apt to do, a vast complex of latent sensibilities,
may awaken a feeling of vague satisfaction. A childish Myth
may thus, after all, seem to solve a fundamental difficulty, so
far as to warrant one in “ putting it by ”—the one important
thing being that we should “put it by,” and act, not think
about it and hesitate. I suggest, then, that Plato’s love of
the Aetiological Myth is due to the instinctive sympathy of
his many-sided genius with this—shall I call it weakness ?—
of human nature, which finds, amid doubts and difficulties,
THE POLITICUS MYTH 203
some satisfaction in fantastic explanation. Let me illustrate
this weakness, with which I suggest that Plato is in artistic
sympathy, by an instance of the use of the Aetiological Myth
in Finnish mythology—by the Story of the Birth of Iron in
the Kalewala. But first let me say a few words about the
Kalewala by way of introduction to this story.
The great Finnish Epic, the Kalewala, was pieced together
about seventy years ago by Loénnrot out of Runes or Cantos
which had been, as they still are, sung separately by the
popular Laujola, or Minstrels. The Rune, or Canto, is the
unit of Finnish poetry, and may be fairly described as an
Aetiological Myth growing out of the magician’s charm-
formula,
The chief personages in the Kalewala are not national
kings and warriors, as in other epics, but great magicians ; and
the interest of the poem, or poems, is connected mainly with
the manner in which these great magicians show their power
over Nature, and Spirits,and Men. According to the Finnish
belief, everything done in life, even the simplest thing done
by the most ordinary person, has its appropriate charm-
formula—is successfully done in virtue of the accompaniment
of the suitable word or words—e.g. there is a word for success-
fully laying the keel of a boat, and another for fixing the ribs,
and so on. If ordinary acts depend on the utterance of the
proper words, much more do the extraordinary acts of great
magicians. Wiainimdinen, the chief magician-hero of the
Kalewala Runes, when he was building his magic boat forgot
three necessary words,and wandered over the whole Earth, and
at last found his way into the World of the Dead, in his search
for these lost words. Now these mighty words, which are the
arms wielded by the magician-hero, are mighty in that they
contain the cause of the thing on which he exercises his power.
He is confronted with difficulties and dangers in his adventur-
ous career, and it is by telling a difficult or dangerous thing
its origin that he conquers it. If it is a wound to be cured
it is the Birth of Iron that the magician must know and
relate (Kal. ix. 29 ff). If it is a monstrous bear that he
has to overcome he must first tell the story of the Origin of
the Bear (Kal. xlvi. 355). If it is a disease that he has to
exorcise, he can only do that by telling the disease its hidden
204 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
name, and the place from which it came, and the way by
which it came (Kal. xlv. 23). If it is a snake-bite to be
healed, he must know the Ancestry of Snakes (Kal. xxvi. 695).
Thus, out of the charm-formula of the magician-hero the Aetio-
logical Myth arises—especially when the singer of the Rune,
identifying himself, as he often does, with his magician-hero,
uses the first person.
The Kalewala is a loosely connected collection of Cantos,
in which magicians are the heroes, and charms the weapons,
the charms being words which reveal the nature and origin
of the things or persons overcome—magic words which the
Finnish Rune-singers expanded into elaborate Aetiological
Myths. Among other races it is the prayer at the sacrifice
or offering, as Comparetti’ observes, which is developed into
the Hymn, and then into the Myth; it is only among the
Finns that the charm-formula is so developed. Sorcery, not
as elsewhere ritual and custom, is here the germ of the
Aetiological Myth.
THE STORY OF THE BirTH OF [RON ?
Wainamdinen, with blood streaming from a wound in his knee
made by his axe when he was building a boat, hurries from place
to place in his sledge, asking if any one knows the mighty words
which will heal the “Iron’s outrage.” No one knows them. At
last he comes to a house in which there is a little grey-bearded
old man by the fireside, who, in answer to Wainiméinen’s ques-
tion, calls out to him as he sits in his sledge at the door:
“Wilder streams, greater rivers than this have ere now been
tamed by three words of the High Creator.” Wéiiniméinen rose
out of his sledge and crossed the courtyard and entered the
house. <A silver cup and a golden tankard were brought and
soon were full of blood, and overflowing. The little old man
cried out from the fireside: “Speak, who art thou amongst men,
of what people and nation, that already seven great basins and
eight tubs are filled with thy blood? ΑἸ] magic words I know,
| Der Kalewala, oder die traditionelle Poesie der Finnen, Ὁ. 169 (German
edition, 1892),
2 I have translated this story (with considerable compression and omission)
from the German version of the Kalewala by Hermann Paul, published at
Helsingfors in 1885 to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of the first publi-
cation of the Finnish Epic.
ΤῊΝ POLITICUS MYTH 205
save only that one word, which declareth how lron was fashioned
how the rusty metal arose.”
Then Wiiiniiméinen answered and said: “I myself know the
source of Iron, and the first beginning of Steel.
“Heaven is the primaeval mother, Water is the eldest child,
Iron is the youngest of the brethren, Fire is the middle son.
“Ukko, the Almighty Creator, the Ruler of the wide
world, separated Heaven from Water, separated dry Land from
Water, before that Iron grew up, before that the rusty metal
arose.
“The Creator of Heaven, Ukko, rubbed together his right
hand and his left, and pressed his two hands together, and laid
them both upon his knee; and straightway there came into being
three fair women, lovely daughters of Nature, who caused Iron to
come into being and the blue flashing Steel.
“Lightly the fair women floated away by the edge of the
clouds, and their swelling breasts were full of milk. The milk ran
down over the earth continually, over the fields, over the fens,
over the still waters and lakes. Black it flowed from the breasts
of the eldest, white in bright drops it fell from the breasts of the
second, red from the breasts of the youngest. She from whom
the black drops fell caused the soft Iron to come forth, she from
whom the white drops fell produced the glancing Steel, she from
whom the red drops fell brought forth the brittle Iron.
“ After a while Iron would a-wandering go, to visit his elder
brother Fire. But Fire was evilly minded towards him, and
blazed up, and would have consumed him; but Iron escaped out
of the hands of his fierce brother, out of the mouth of the
devouring Fire, and hid himself under the earth, in the bog, in
the deep-hidden spring, on the wide expanse of the fen where
the swans build their nests, on the ridge of the mighty cliff where
the eagle watches over his brood.
“So Iron lay deep in the moist fen, kept himself there for
two years hidden ; yea, even in the third year lay quiet between
the crooked trunks, under the rotten birch-leaves.
“Yet could he not escape out of his brother’s hands; again
must he return into the power of wicked Fire, and be forged into
tools and weapons.
“One day the Wolf ran over the fen, one day the Bear trotted
growling over the moor. The footprints of the Wolf were plain,
the Bear left his track behind; and lo! there the rusty Iron
appeared, there the glancing Steel, in the broad footprints of the
Wolf, in the Bear’s great track.
“Tlmarinen, the cunning Smith, came into the world, was born
on a coal-heap, grew up on the murky hill, with a hammer in his
hand, and little tongs under his arm. In the night was he born,
206 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
and on the morrow went forth to seek a smithy and a place for
his bellows. He saw a piece of fenland, a wet morass; he went
near to look at it; and there he built him his smithy and put up
his bellows.
“Soon he marked the footprints of the Wolf and the track of
the Bear on the fen, and saw the rusty Iron, found the Steel,
discovered in the Wolf's broad footprints, in the Bear’s great
track.
“Then spake the Smith: “Ὁ unhappy Iron! What is
happened unto thee! What unworthy place is this that thou
hast, under the Wolf’s heavy feet, in the track of the clumsy
Bear ?’
“Thereafter he bethought him, and whispered to himself;
‘What would come of it, if I cast the Iron into the Fire, into the
sparkling glow ?’
“Then did the anguish of the fear of death take hold of the
Iron, when it heard the terrible name of Fire.
“But the Smith lifted up his voice, and said: ‘Fear not,
poor Iron; Fire hurteth not his brother. If thou enterest into
the smithy, and layest thyself down in the furnace, thou shalt
rise up again more beautiful, thou shalt become a sharp sword for
men, a useful instrument for women.’
“The Smith took the Iron, and cast it on the glowing hearth,
and on the first day stirred up the flame, and yet again on the
second day, and the third. Slowly the glowing Iron was melted,
and boiled up in bubbles, and spread itself, like leavened dough,
within the flames of the mighty Fire. |
“Then cried the Iron in anguish: ‘O Smith, have com-
passion upon me; take me out of the burning Fire, out of the hot
flaming glow!’
“Then answered the Smith: ‘If I take thee now out of the
Fire, thou mightest grow up to be evil, and all too dangerous ;
thou mightest murder thy nearest-of-kin, regarding not thine own
brother.’
“Then Iron lifted up his voice, and swore a great oath, and
said: ‘There are still trees enough to fell, and stones enough to
break ; never will I hurt my brother, or do harm unto my nearest-
of-kin. Better and fairer and more honourable ’tis to live as
companion and servant of man, to be his friend, the weapon of
his hand, than to be the enemy of one’s kinsman, the destroyer of
one’s brother.’
“Then took Ilmarinen the Smith, the famous Smith, the poor
Iron out of the Fire, and laid it on the anvil, and hammered it
till it was bent to use; and therefrom he made sharp tools, axes
and swords, and implements of every sort.
“Yet something was still lacking to the Iron, the Steel still
ΤῊΝ POLITICUS MYTH 207
needed something. The lron’s tongue lacked hardness, his mouth
lacked the due sharpness, ‘The Iron could not be forged hard,
unless Water wetted it.
“The renowned Smith bethought him what he should do;
and then he sprinkled a little ash upon Water, and dissolved it
therein, and made a pungent bath, for to give hardness to the
Tron and strength to the Steel.
“Carefully did he prove the Water with his tongue, and then
said: ‘The Water is not yet made fit to harden the rusty metal
and the blue glancing Steel.’
“Behold a Bee came flying over the grass, sporting high and
low on bright wings, flitting and humming round him.
“Then spake the renowned Smith: ‘Here! Busy Bee!
Bring me honey on thy wing, bring hither the noble juice, suck it
from the cups of the flowers, to give the right hardness to the
Iron, to give strength to the Steel.’
“ Hiisi’s evil bird, the Wasp, overheard the talk, as she
peeped down from the roof. She gave heed secretly to all, she
saw the rusty metal prepared, she saw the glancing Steel brought
forth.
“In haste away flew the Wasp from thence, and gathered
together Hiisi’s horrors; she brought the black venom of the
serpent, and the deadly poison of the adder, and the bitter froth
of worms, and the corroding liquor of the toad, to give hardness to
the Iron and strength to the Steel.
“T]marinen, the cunning workman, the renowned Smith, thought
that the Busy Bee had brought him honey, had given him the
noble juice; and he said: ‘ Now is the bath right to harden the
rusty metal, to give strength to the blue Steel.’
“Τὴ the bath he dipped the Iron, without heed he cast the metal
therein, when he had drawn it out of the Fire, out of the glowing
forge.
“Then came it to pass that Iron was made hurtful, and did rend
Honour even as a dog rendeth flesh, and broke the sacred oath
which he sware, and murdered his own brother, and bit wounds into
him with sharp mouth, and opened paths for the blood, and poured
it out in foaming stream.”
The little old man at the fireside cried aloud, and rocked his
head to and fro, and sang: “ΟἿ, now I know the Beginning of Iron,
now I know who drave it to evil. Woe unto thee, thou luckless
Iron! woe unto thee, thou deceitful Steel! Poor metal, taken
captive by witchcraft! Is it thence that thou art sprung? Is it
for this reason that thou art become a terror and hast too great
mastery ?
** Who moved thee to wickedness, who drave thee to treason ἢ
Was it thy Father or thy Mother? Was thy eldest Brother guilty
208 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
of this? Was it thy youngest Sister, or some Friend, who coun-
selled thee and turned thee to the evil deed ?
“Neither Father nor Mother nor eldest Brother nor youngest
Sister nor any Friend gave thee this counsel. Thyself hast thou
done this wickedness, thyself hast thou accomplished the bloody
deed.
“Tron! Look at this wound! Heal the evil thou hast done ere
I go in anger with complaint against thee to thy Mother. The
sorrow of the old woman thy Mother is increased if her child
turneth himself to evil and doeth wickedness.
“Leave off, and run no more, thou foaming blood! hold in thy
course, spout forth no more in long-curved bow, bespattering my
head and breast! Stand like a wall immovable, like a fence, like
the sedge by the water’s side, like the grass in the slimy fen!
Stand like the rocks upon the firm earth, like the cliff in the raging
storm !
“Tf thou heedest not these words, I will devise other means:
hither do I call Hiisi’s Kettle to seethe the foaming blood therein,
to make hot the red juice, so that not a drop shall flow away, so
that the purple gore shall run down thereinto, and wet not the
earth nor stream foaming over the ground.
‘And if power be withheld from me myself to stay the endless
flood, to become master of the wild stream, know that in Heaven
there liveth a Father, a God dwelling above the clouds, who is the
mightiest leech for the closing-up of bleeding wounds.
“Ukko, High Creator, Everlasting God of Heaven, hear me
when I call unto thee in time of need! Lay thy soothing hand,
thy finger which bringeth healing, on the wound, and be as a sure
lock to close it.
“ Take,O Lord, a healing leaf, spread a water-lily leaf to cover the
opening, stay the strong current of the blood, so that it stain not
my cheeks nor stream over my garments.”
Therewith the old man shut the mouth of the wound, stayed
the swift course of the blood; then sent he his son into the smithy
to prepare a salve of the finest threads of the grass, of a thousand
herbs of the field, of the flowers whence honey, healing balm,
droppeth.
The boy brought the salve to his Father, saying: “ Here is
strong healing salve, able to cement stones together into one
rock.”
The Father proved it with his tongue, and found it good ;
and therewith he anointed the wounded man, saying: “ Not
by my own power do I this, but only through the power of the
Highest.”
Then he bound up the wound with silken bands, saying:
“May the silk of the Eternal Father, the bands of the Almighty
THE POLITICUS MYTH 209
Creator, bind up this wound. Be gracious, O Heavenly Father,
look down and help, put an end unto the bitter anguish, heal this
wound without the sharpness of pain,”
Then did Wiiniméinen, on a sudden, feel that he was healed ;
and soon thereafter the wound grew together, and was closed.'
A Myth like this of the Birth of Iron, amplified, indeed,
and embellished by poetical art, but originally inspired by the
childish belief in the value of words which set forth the cause,
helps us, I think, to understand Plato’s employment of the
Aetiological Myth. Confronted by some profound difficulty,
he lays it, or “ puts it by,” by means of a fanciful account of
the origin of the state of things which presents the difficulty.
He seems to feel that an Aetiological Myth is “a comfortable
thing,”* and a charm to conjure with when one is hard
pressed,
The transition is easy from the point which we have now
reached to Plato’s Creation Myths—his Aetiological Myths
par excellence. These are the Z'imaeus (which is one great
Myth) and the Myth of Prometheus and Epimetheus in the
Protagoras (320 ὁ ff).
In distinguishing these Myths as Aetiological from the
strictly Eschatological Myths of the Phaedo, Gorgias, and the
Republic, I do not ignore the eschatological prospect which is
presented in them, especially in the Zimaeus; but aetiological
retrospect is what is really characteristic of them. It is the
origin of the Universe, and of Man, Soul and Body, not the
future life of Man’s Soul, that these Myths are properly
concerned with. They set forth the Ideas of Reason, Soul,
Cosmos, and God, aetiologically in a Vision of Creation; and
supply, moreover, a mythological deduction of Categories of the
Understanding and Moral Virtues, which lies outside the scope
of the strictly Eschatological Myths; 1.6. they deduce Categories
and Virtues from their causes in the nature of God and the
make of the Cosmos—they picture for the imagination the
orderly constitution of nature as expressing the wisdom and
goodness of God, and explain—always for the imagination—
the harmony subsisting between that constitution and the
faculties of the Soul, Thus in Zimaeus 40 E-42E the a
1 Kalewala, Runes 8 and 9, vol. i. pp. 95-124, German version by Hermann
Paul (Helsingfors, 1885).
2 «* Prisms are also comfortable things’ (Bacon, Nat. Hist. cent. x. 960).
Ρ
210 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
priori conditions of thought, the modes in which the Under-
standing brings order into the manifold of sense-experience,
are set forth as due to impressions received by the Soul in its
speculative journey round the Heavens, when it rode on its
star-chariot, and saw the eternal laws of the Universe, and
learned to move in orbits of rational thought, similar to those
which rule the stars.
It will be convenient to begin our study of the Creation
Myths with the Protagoras Myth. It is on a small scale, and
by looking at it first the eye of imagination may perhaps be
prepared for the contemplation of the vast 7imaeus. Although
it is only a small part of the 7imaeus that the limits of this
work allow me to translate and comment on, I would ask the
reader to regard the whole book as one great Myth in which
the Ideas of Soul, Cosmos, and God are set forth in great
shapes for our wonder—in which the relation of the Created
Soul—World Soul and Human Soul—to the Creator, the
relation of the Human Soul to the Human Body, the Origin
of Evil, the Hope of Salvation, and other things which con-
cern our peace, are made visible. The Zimaeus is a Myth, not
a scientific treatise, although it was its fortune from the very
first to be treated as if it were the latter. No other work of
Plato’s was so much read and commented on in antiquity, and
throughout the Middle Age, as the Zimaeus; and that chiefly
because it was regarded as a compendium of natural science,
all the more valuable because its “natural science” was not
presented as something apart by itself, but “framed in a theo-
logical setting.” Aristotle, of course, treats it aw pied de la
lettre.’ With the Christian Platonists it took rank as a
scientific and theological authority along with the Book of
Genesis.” Dante’s references to Plato’s actual text are, I
believe, all to passages contained in the Z'imaeus.®
1 The reader may test the justice of this statement by referring to the
passages quoted in the /ndex Arist. s.v. ‘‘Tiuaos Platonis dialogus’”’; and see
Zeller, Plato, p. 344, Eng. Transl.
2 “Numenius the Platonist speaks out plainly concerning his master: What
is Plato but Moses Atticus?" (Henry More’s Conjectura Cabbalistica, Preface, p. 3 ;
ed. 1662.) It was practically as author of the Timaeus that Plato was “ Moses
Atticus.” Jowett (Dialogues of Plato, Introd. to Timaeus) has some interesting
remarks on the text—‘‘ The influence which the Zimaeus has exercised upon
posterity is partly due to a misunderstanding.”
3 See Moore’s Studies in Dante, first series, pp. 156 ff., and Toynbee’s Dante
Dictionary, arts. ‘‘ Platone” and “ Timeo?,”
» | Mth pei Prtagera Myth is not
i fa erates, and Protagoras, the speaker, like the
Strang rin Ἴω Politicus, says that a Fable will come
m himself, an older man addressing younger men—
and thr pt
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH
CONTEXT
THE scene of the Protagoras is the house of Callias, a
wealthy Athenian gentleman, to which Socrates takes his friend
Hippocrates, that he may introduce him to the celebrated teacher
of Rhetoric—or the Art of getting on in Iife—Protagoras, who
happens to be staying with Callias. Besides Protagoras they
Jind two other Sophists of repute there, Hippias and Prodicus,
also Critias and Alcibiades. Hippocrates wishes to become a
pupil of Protagoras; and Socrates, after communicating his
friend’s wish to the great man, asks him, “ What he will make
of Hippocrates?” and Protagoras answers, “ A better and
wiser man”—that is, he will teach him how to do the right
thing always in private and public life. Socrates expresses
doubt as to whether the science of right conduct, or virtue
private and political—for that is what Protagoras professes to be
able to teach—can really be taught. The Athenians, as a body,
apparently do not think that it can be taught, for they do not
demand it of their politicians; nor do the wisest and best
citizens think that it can be taught, for they never attempt to
empart it to their sons.
The Myth (together with the Lecture of which ἐξ is a part)
is the answer which Protagoras now gives to the difficulties
raised by Socrates. The object of the Myth and Lecture is
to show, that virtue—or rather, the virtues, for Protagoras
enumerates five: wisdom, temperance, justice, holiness, cowrage
—can be taught.
When Protagoras has finished his Myth and Lecture, con-
versation is resumed between him and Socrates, and results in
making it plain that the five virtues must be reduced to one—
212
ῃ 1 Ἐ | 7 OTA ad γ0 RAS MYTH: 213
ae ee
rowli hie) ρων ἀμ
he values of the various objects which conduct sets
IE hae teen raph chest Gat Pretaporse tt dls
00. sonclusion that virtue is knowledge, unless he would con-
ict his own thesis that it can be taught; while Socrates,
' γα that it is aie confirms that thesis, which —
oe
At
τὴν".
214 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Protagoras 320 c—323 A
> \
320 C Hv γάρ ποτε χρόνος, ὅτε θεοὶ μὲν ἦσαν, θνητὰ δὲ
/
ἢ γένη οὐκ Hv. ἐπειδὴ δὲ Kal τούτοις χρόνος ἦλθεν
e / / “ ᾽ \ θ \ A Μ ὃ ᾽ “Ὁ
εἱμαρμένος γενέσεως, τυποῦσιν αὐτὰ θεοὶ γῆς ἔνδον ἐκ γῆς
καὶ πυρὸς μίξαντες καὶ τῶν ὅσα πυρὶ καὶ γῇ κεράννυται.
A /
ἐπειδὴ δ᾽ ἄγειν αὐτὰ πρὸς φῶς ἔμελλον, προσέταξαν
al a a al /
Προμηθεῖ καὶ ᾿Επιμηθεῖ κοσμῆσαί τε καὶ νεῖμαι δυνάμεις
a ᾽ \
ἑκάστοις ws πρέπει. Προμηθέα δὲ παραιτεῖται ᾿Ἐ"πιμηθεὺς
αὐτὸς νεῖμαι' Νείμαντος δ᾽ ἐμοῦ, ἔφη, ἐπίσκεψαι. καὶ οὕτω
/ / / \ lal \ > \ »” /
Ἑ πείσας νέμει. νέμων δὲ τοῖς μὲν ἰσχὺν ἄνευ τάχους
a , \
προσῆπτε, τὰ δ᾽ ἀσθενέστερα τάχει ἐκόσμει: Ta δὲ ὥπλιξε,
lal ᾽ a an
τοῖς δ᾽ ἄοπλον διδοὺς φύσιν ἄλλην Tw αὐτοῖς ἐμηχανᾶτο
A ’
δύναμιν εἰς σωτηρίαν. ἃ μὲν γὰρ αὐτῶν σμικρότητι ἤμπι-
=
σχε, πτηνὸν φυγὴν ἢ κατάγειον οἴκησιν ἔνεμεν: ἃ δὲ HdEE
8321 μεγέθει, τῷδε αὐτῷ αὐτὰ ἔσωζε: καὶ τἄλλα οὕτως ἐπανισῶν
a a /
ἔνεμε. ταῦτα δὲ ἐμηχανᾶτο εὐλάβειαν ἔχων, μή τι γένος
ἀϊστωθείη. ἐπειδὴ δὲ αὐτοῖς ἀλληλοφθοριῶν διαφυγὰς
> / \ \ ᾽ \ “ > 7 > a
ἐπήρκεσε, πρὸς τὰς ἐκ Διὸς ὥρας εὐμάρειαν ἐμηχανᾶτο
> \ ᾽ \ fal \ \ -“ /
ἀμφιεννὺς αὐτὰ πυκναῖς te θριξὶ Kal στερεοῖς δέρμασιν,
ς΄ » - a a / \
ἱκανοῖς μὲν ἀμῦναι χειμῶνα, δυνατοῖς δὲ καὶ καύματα, Kal
a fal \
εἰς εὐνὰς ἰοῦσιν ὅπως ὑπάρχοι τὰ αὐτὰ ταῦτα στρωμνὴ
οἰκεία τε καὶ αὐτοφυὴς ἑκάστῳ: καὶ ὑπὸ ποδῶν τὰ μὲν
e κ a /
Βοπλαῖς, τὰ δὲ θριξὶ καὶ δέρμασι στερεοῖς Kal ἀναίμοις.
nr / ra a
τοὐντεῦθεν τροφὰς ἄλλοις ἄλλας ἐξεπόριζε, τοῖς μὲν ἐκ γῆς
a /
βοτάνην, ἄλλοις δὲ δένδρων καρπούς, τοῖς δὲ ῥίζας" ἔστι
δ᾽ οἷς ἔδωκεν εἶναι τροφὴν ζώων ἄλλων βοράν. καὶ τοῖς
Lol nw \
μὲν Odvyoyoviay προσῆψε, τοῖς δ᾽ ἀναλισκομένοις ὑπὸ
΄ / / φὶ / “ \
τούτων πολυγονίαν, σωτηρίαν τῷ γένει πορίζων. ἅτε δὴ
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 215
TRANSLATION
Time was when there were Gods, but mortal creatures
after their kind were not. Now when the appointed time
came unto these also that they should be born, the gods
fashioned them under the Earth, compounding them of earth,
and of fire, and of whatsoever is made by the mingling of fire
and earth. Now when they were ready to bring them to
light, they gave commandment unto Prometheus and Epi-
metheus to adorn them, and distribute unto each the powers
that were meet. But Epimetheus entreated of Prometheus
to let him distribute. “ When I have distributed,” quoth he,
“do thou see whether it is done well.”
So he prevailed with him, and distributed: and unto some
he gave strength without swiftness, but the weaker he adorned
with swiftness; unto others he gave weapons; and for those
unto whom he gave not weapons he contrived other means
of safety ; to wit, unto those of them which he clothed with
smallness he appointed winged escape, or habitation under
ground ; and unto those which he increased with bigness, the
safety which cometh therefrom. After this fashion, then, did
he distribute, ever making one gift equal unto another. These
things he contrived, lest perchance any race should be cut off.
But when he had furnished them with means for escaping
destruction from one another, he contrived for them con-
venient defence against the seasons of the year, clothing them
with thick hairs and stout hides sufficient to keep off the cold
of winter and the burning heat; the which might also be for
couches proper and native unto each one of them, when they
went to their lairs. Moreover, he shod some of them with
hoofs, and others with hairs and thick skin without blood.
After that he appointed unto them different kinds of food:
unto some the herbs of the earth, unto others the fruits of
the trees, unto others roots; and some there were unto which
he appointed for food the flesh of other beasts. And he
ordained that they should bring forth young, some few, and
others, which were devoured of these, many, that their race
might be preserved.
210 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
οὖν ov πάνυ τι σοφὸς ὧν ὁ ᾿Ἐπιμηθεὺς ἔλαθεν αὑτὸν
σ καταναλώσας τὰς δυνάμεις εἰς τὰ ἄλογα. λοιπὸν δὴ
» / ΜΝ > A = \ > ’ / \ >’ , “
ἀκόσμητον ἔτι αὐτῷ ἣν τὸ ἀνθρώπων γένος, καὶ ἠπόρει ὅ
τι χρήσαιτο. ἀποροῦντε δὲ αὐτῷ ἔρχεται Προμηθεὺς
’ , \ , Ἢ ca \ \ » a
ἐπισκεψόμενος τὴν νομὴν, Kal opa Ta μὲν ἄλλα ζῶα
ἐμμελῶς πάντων ἔχοντα, τὸν δὲ ἄνθρωπον γυμνόν τε καὶ
/
ἀνυπόδητον Kal ἄστρωτον καὶ ἄοπλον. ἤδη δὲ καὶ ἡ
e / ς / n » @ Μ \ ” > / »
εἱμαρμένη ἡμέρα παρῆν, ἐν ἣ ἔδει καὶ ἄνθρωπον ἐξιέναι ἐκ
- > - > / S b] / e 4 4
γῆς εἰς φῶς. ἀπορίᾳ οὖν ἐχόμενος ὁ Προμηθεύς, ἥντινα
/ a > , Ὁ / € /
σωτηρίαν τῷ ἀνθρώπῳ εὕροι, κλέπτει Ἡφαίστου καὶ
᾿Αθηνᾶς τὴν ἔντεχνον σοφίαν σὺν πυρί---ἀμήχανον γὰρ ἣν
A
ἄνευ πυρὸς αὐτὴν κτητήν τῳ ἢ χρησίμην γενέσθαι----, Kal
οὕτω δ) ὃ - by θ , \ \ s \ \ Bi
ἢ δωρεῖται ἀνθρώπῳ. τὴν μὲν οὖν περὶ τὸν βίον
/ » 7 ¥ \ \ \ > 3
σοφίαν ἄνθρωπος ταύτῃ ἔσχε, τὴν δὲ πολιτικὴν οὐκ εἶχεν"
Ss \ \ A / A \ “ > \ \ > /
ἣν yap παρὰ τῷ Διί: τῷ δὲ LpounOe? eis μὲν τὴν axpo-
\ rn \ ” > / > , > r
πολιν τὴν τοῦ Διὸς οἴκησιν οὐκέτι ἐνεχώρει εἰσελθεῖν.
πρὸς δὲ καὶ αἱ Διὸς φυλακαὶ φοβεραὶ ἦσαν" εἰς δὲ τὸ τῆς
> A \ « / yy \ / > φ >
E A@nvas καὶ Ἡφαίστου οἴκημα τὸ κοινόν, ἐν ᾧ ἐφιλο-
/ \ > / \ / / Μ
τεχνείτην, λαθὼν εἰσέρχεται, καὶ κλέψας τὴν τε ἔμπυρον
τέχνην τὴν τοῦ Ἡφαίστου καὶ τὴν ἄλλην τὴν τῆς ᾿Αθηνᾶς
δίδωσιν ἀνθρώπῳ καὶ ἐκ τούτου εὐπορία μὲν ἀνθρώπῳ τοῦ
. ,’ >’
322 βίου γίγνεται, Ilpounbéa δὲ δὲ Επιμηθέα ὕστερον, ἧπερ
λέγεται, κλοπῆς δίκη μετῆλθεν.
> \ \ ¢ ” / / / an
Ἐπειδὴ δὲ ὁ ἄνθρωπος θείας μετέσχε μοίρας, πρῶτον
\ \ \ ΄σ on / , ’ \ , /
μὲν διὰ τὴν τοῦ θεοῦ συγγένειαν ζώων μόνον θεοὺς ἐνόμισε,
\ > / / e / 7 > / lal
Kai ἐπεχείρει βωμούς τε ἱδρύεσθαι καὶ ἀγάλματα θεῶν"
ΝΜ \ \ > / \ / an
ἔπειτα φωνὴν καὶ ὀνόματα ταχὺ διηρθρώσατο τῇ τέχνῃ,
\ ᾽ , \ b] an \ e δέ \ a \
καὶ οἰκήσεις καὶ ἐσθῆτας Kal ὑποδέσεις Kal στρωμνὰς καὶ
a ¢ »
τὰς ἐκ γῆς τροφὰς εὕρετο. οὕτω δὴ παρεσκευασμένοι κατ
’
Β ἀρχὰς ἄνθρωποι ὠκουν σποράδην, πόλεις δὲ οὐκ ἦσαν.
ἀπώλλυντο οὖν ὑπὸ τῶν θηρίων διὰ τὸ πανταχῇ αὐτῶν
ἀσθενέστεροι εἶναι, καὶ ἡ δημιουργικὴ τέχνη αὐτοῖς πρὸς
μὲν τροφὴν ἱκανὴ βοηθὸς ἣν, πρὸς δὲ τὸν τῶν θηρίων
/ ? / \ \ / ” “.
πόλεμον ἐνδεής" πολιτικὴν γὰρ τέχνην οὔπω εἶχον, ἧς
μέρος πολεμική. ἐζήτουν δὴ ἀθροίζεσθαι καὶ σώξεσθαι
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 217
Now, inasmuch as Epimetheus was not very wise, he un-
Wittingly spent all the qualities he had upon the brutes; and
lo! mankind was still left unto him unadorned, and he knew
not what he should do concerning them.
While he yet doubteth, Prometheus cometh unto him to
look into his distribution; and perceiveth that all other
creatures are duly furnished in all things, but that man is
naked and without shoes or bed or weapons: and now was
come the appointed day on the which man also should go
forth from the earth into the light.
Wherefore Prometheus, being brought to his wits’ end to
devise any means of safety for man, stealeth the cunning
workman’s wisdom of Hephaestus and Athena, together with
fire—for without fire none can get this wisdom or use it;
and this he giveth as a gift unto man.
Thus did man get the mechanic wisdom needful for his
bare life; but the wisdom which is needful for the life poli-
tical he had not, for it was with Zeus; and unto Prometheus
it was no longer permitted to enter into the citadel, the
dwelling-place of Zeus; moreover, the guards of Zeus were
terrible; but into the common dwelling of Athena and
Hephaestus, wherein they plied their craft, he secretly entered,
and stole the fiery art of Hephaestus, and also Athena’s art,
and gave them unto man. Whence came convenient living
unto man; but as for Prometheus, he was afterwards arraigned
for theft because of Epimetheus, as the story telleth.
Now man, having been made a partaker of the divine lot,
by reason of his kinship with the Godhead, alone among living
creatures believed in Gods, and began to take it in hand to
set up altars unto them and make graven images of them. Then
soon with cunning device did he frame articulate speech and
names, and invented houses to dwell in, and raiment and shoes to
put on,and beds for rest, and food from the fruits of the earth.
Thus furnished, men at first dwelt scattered abroad, and
there were no cities. Wherefore men were continually
devoured by wild beasts, for they were altogether weaker than
the beasts, and their craftsman’s art could help them to get
food enough, but was not sufficient for their war with the
wild beasts; for they had not yet the art political, whereof
the art of warfare is a part.
323
218 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
/ a /
κτίζοντες πόλεις. ὅτ᾽ οὖν ἀθροισθεῖεν, ἠδίκουν ἀλλήλους,
“ > ΝΜ \ \ / “ /
ἅτε οὐκ ἔχοντες τὴν πολιτικὴν τέχνην, ὥστε πάλιν σκεδαν-
νύμενοι διεφθείροντο. Ζεὺς οὖν δείσας περὶ τῷ γένει ἡμῶν
as ρ ᾿Ξ 5 ρ t ¥ ne id
\ > / a ς “ / ” > ᾽ /
μὴ ἀπόλοιτο πᾶν, Ἑρμῆν πέμπει ἄγοντα eis ἀνθρώπους
INA \ , wy 3 / / \ \
αἰδῶ τε καὶ δίκην, iv εἶεν πόλεων κόσμοι Te Kal δεσμοὶ
rd Ἢ > A 5 ὝἭ, a Ad / 5 /
φιλίας συναγωγοί: ἐρωτᾷ οὖν “Ἑρμῆς Δία, τίνα οὖν τρόπον
, , \ INA > , / ς e /
Soin δίκην καὶ αἰδῶ ἀνθρώποις. πότερον ὡς ai τέχναι
/ “ \ / / / \ »
νενέμηνται, οὕτω Kal ταύτας νείμω; νενέμηνται δὲ ὧδε" εἷς
» \ ~ \ e ”
ἔχων ἰατρικὴν πολλοῖς ἱκανὸς ἰδιώταις, καὶ οἱ ἄλλοι
᾽ὔ \ / \ \ IDA e “ > Lal
δημιουργοί. καὶ δίκην δὴ καὶ αἰδῶ οὕτω θῶ ἐν τοῖς
, ᾽ e 4
ἀνθρώποις, ἢ ἐπὶ πάντας νείμω; ‘Eni πάντας, ἔφη ὁ Ζεύς,
\ ΄ , ᾽ \ v 7 / >
Kal πάντες μετεχόντων: οὐ γὰρ ἂν γένοιντο πόλεις, εἰ
4ὼ 2 » κα / Ὁ » a \ ,
ολύγοι αὐτῶν μετέχοιεν ὥσπερ ἄλλων τεχνῶν. καὶ νόμον
θὲ ᾽ ? a \ \ / ὃ a \ δί
γε θὲς παρ᾽ ἐμοῦ τὸν μὴ δυνάμενον αἰδοῦς καὶ δίκης
/ / . / / Ὁ 7 9 /
μετέχειν κτείνειν ὡς νόσον πόλεως. Οὕτω δή, ὦ Σώκρατες,
rn 7 a \
καὶ διὰ ταῦτα οἵ te ἄλλοι Kal οἱ ᾿Αθηναῖοι, ὅταν μὲν
δ 4 a a > / DI ” \ a
περὶ ἀρετῆς τεκτονικῆς ἢ λόγος ἢ ἄλλης τινὸς δημιουργικῆς,
? / v a a \ 4 > \ nr
ὀλίγοις οἴονται μετεῖναι συμβουλῆς, Kal ἐάν Tis ἐκτὸς ὧν
a ~~ / / ᾽ ae 4 ς \ , BM
τῶν ὀλίγων συμβουλεύῃ, οὐκ ἀνέχονται, ὡς σὺ φῇς" εἰκο-
΄ 7 \ a
τως, ws ἐγώ φημι' ὅταν δὲ εἰς συμβουλὴν πολιτικῆς
> a v ἃ a \ / 7 7 \
ἀρετῆς ἴωσιν, ἣν δεῖ διὰ δικαιοσύνης πᾶσαν ἰέναι καὶ
7 ᾽ / “ J \ > / e \
σωφροσύνης, εἰκότως ἅπαντος ἀνδρὸς ἀνέχονται, ὡς παντὶ
lal A “Ὁ A \
προσῆκον ταύτης γε μετέχειν τῆς ἀρετῆς, ἢ μὴ εἶναι
πόλεις.
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 219
Wherefore they sought to assemble themselves together,
and save themselves by building cities.
Now when they were assembled together, they wronged
one another, because they had not the art political; so they
were again scattered abroad, and were like to be destroyed.
But Zeus, fearing lest our race should perish utterly, com-
mandeth Hermes to go unto men bearing modesty and justice,
for the ordering of cities, and to be bonds joining men to-
gether in friendship. Hermes inquireth of Zeus how he shall
give justice and modesty unto men. “ Are these,” quoth he,
“to be distributed as the arts are distributed, the which are
distributed after this wise—one man hath the art of physic, or
some other art, and is sufficient unto many who have it not?
Shall I distribute justice and modesty among men thus, or
give them unto all?” “Unto all,” said Zeus, “and let all be
partakers of them. For if few were partakers as of the arts,
cities would not arise. Also make it a law from me, that he
who cannot partake of modesty and justice shall be put to
death, for he bringeth plague into the city.
For this reason, O Socrates, the Athenians and others, when
they consult about things which need the skill of the carpenter
or other handicraftsman, think that few advisers are enough, and
if any one who is not of those thrust himself forward to advise,
they will have none of him. Thus do they, thou sayest. And
I say tis but reasonable they should do this. But when they
enter into counsel concerning those things that pertain unto
virtue political, which must needs walk alway in the path of
righteousness and temperance, then with reason do they bear
with any man as a counsellor, considering that all men must
partake of this virtue, else there could be no city.
THE MYTHS OF PLATO
bo
bo
Θ
OBSERVATIONS ON THE PROTAGORAS MYTH
I
Before calling attention to some important points in this
Myth, I must allude to a view maintained by some critics—
that it is not a Platonic Myth at all, but only a Sophistic
Apologue, or Illustrative Story, like Prodicus’s Choice of
Hercules. This view is stated, and objected to, by Grote in
the following passage : '—
The speech is censured by some critics as prolix. But to me it
seems full of matter and argument, exceedingly free from super-
fluous rhetoric. The fable with which it opens presents, of course,
the poetical ornament which belongs to that manner of handling.
It is, however, fully equal, in point of perspicuity as well as
charm,—in my judgment, it is even superior,—to any fable in
Plato.
When the harangue, lecture, or sermon of Protagoras is con-
cluded, Sokrates both expresses his profound admiration of it, and
admits the conclusion—that virtue is teachable—to be made out,
as well as it can be made out by any continuous exposition.
Very different, indeed, is the sentiment of the principal Platonic
commentators. Schleiermacher will not allow the mythus of
Protagoras to be counted among the Platonic myths. He says
that it is composed in the style of Protagoras, and perhaps copied
from some real composition of that Sophist. He finds in it
nothing but a “ grobmaterialistiche Denkungsart, die tiber die
sinnliche Erfahrung nicht hinaus philosophirt” (Zinleitung zwm
Protagoras, vol. i. pp. 233, 234).
To the like purpose Ast (Plat. Leb. p. 71), who tells us that
what is expressed in the mythus is, ‘‘ The vulgar and mean senti-
ment and manner of thought of the Sophist ; for it deduces every-
thing, both arts and the social union itself, from human wants and
necessity.” Apparently these critics, when they treat this as a
proof of meanness and vulgarity, have forgotten that the Platonic
Sokrates himself does exactly the same thing in the Republic—
deriving the entire social union from human necessities (Περί.
ii. 369 C).
K. F. Hermann is hardly less severe upon the Protagorean
discourse (Gesch. und Syst. der Plat. Phil. p. 460).
For my part, I take a view altogether opposed to these learned
persons. I think the discourse one of the most striking and
1 Plat, ii, pp. 46, 47.
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 221
instructive portions of the Platonic writings; and if I could
believe that it was the composition of Protagoras himself, my
estimation of him would be considerably raised,
Steinhart pronounces a much more rational and equitable
judgment than Ast and Schleiermacher upon the discourse of
Protagoras (Hinleitung zum Protagoras, pp. 422, 423)."
I entirely agree with Grote; and hope that I shall be
able in the following observations to show reason for the
opinion that this is not a mere illustrative story, designed to
put popularly in a picture what might be put abstrusely, but a
genuine Myth containing suggestions of the kind which must be
put διὰ μυθολογίας or not at all. The mark of a true Myth, it
must be remembered, is that it sets forth the ἃ priori elements
in man’s experience. An Illustrative Story or Allegory, as
such, merely makes easier and more pleasant the task of
receiving and recalling a posteriori data. This is the broad
distinction between Myth and Allegory—a distinction which
we must not lose sight of, although we observe that Allegory
in the hands of a man of genius, like Plato, or Dante, or
Bunyan, always tends to become Myth; and that there are
few Myths, as distinguished from Allegories, which are not
built up of parts, some of which are Allegories.
While contending strongly for the view that the discourse
delivered by Protagoras is a true Myth, not an Allegory, I do
not forget that it is delivered by Protagoras. But even
this, I submit, is quite consistent with its being a Myth, and
that, even if Stallbaum (Note on Protag. 320 0) is right in
thinking that Plato is parodying Protagoras’s style and borrow-
ing from his book περὶ τῆς ἐν ἀρχῆ καταστάσεως. The
Timaeus, at any rate, is a Myth, although it is not spoken by
Socrates and imitates a style very different from that of the
Myths spoken by Socrates. If we are to take the concrete view
necessary to the proper understanding of Plato’s Myths as they
come up individually for critical judgment, we must allow for the
dramatic circumstances of each case. The Myth told in the
Symposium by Aristophanes, being told by Aristophanes, has
1 Professor Campbell (Politicws, Introd. p. xxxii.) is apparently with the
critics from whom Grote differs :—‘‘ The myth in the Protagoras . . . is meant to
convey an idea which Socrates combats, and which Plato evidently does not fully
accept. So also the elaborate myth of Aristophanes in the Sympostum contains
a phase of.thought about the Origin of Love which is afterwards glanced at as
an hypothesis of little value (Sympos. 205 E).”
222 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
a comic vein; similarly, the Myth put into the mouth of Pro-
tagoras is somewhat pompous and confused. None the less,
these, I would contend, and the other non-Socratic Myths are
true Platonic Myths. It is always Plato the Dramatist who,
through the mouth of Aristophanes, or Protagoras, or the
Eleatic Stranger, sets forth for the Imagination the Universal
of which the Scientific Understanding can give no account.
II
The second observation I have to make on the Protagoras
Myth is that it sets forth the distinction between the
Mechanical and the Teleological explanations of the world
and its parts—the distinction with which Kant is occupied
in his Kritik der Urtheilskraft. According to Kant, the
antinomy between these two explanations exists for the Deter-
minant Judgment (the Judgment which, given the Universal,
brings the Particular under it) but not for the Reflective
Judgment (the Judgment which, given the Particular, finds a
Universal by which to explain it). The Universal of Teleology
—a σκοπός, or Purpose, to serve which all things in the
world are designed by a Personal God—is a Principle, or
Universal, which may be posited by the Reflective Judgment,
without contradiction, by the side of the mechanical principle
of explanation—indeed, must be posited, for without the guzd-
ance it affords we could not understand the world at all; but,
for all that, we are not warranted in assuming that it is a prin-
ciple objectively existing and operative in the world. Natural
objects which we can understand only as results of purpose
may very well be due to mere mechanism. “ Purposiveness
is a concept which has its origin solely in the Reflective
Judgment” ;! 2e. it is a Universal which we think of, which
we find useful; but it does not, therefore, exist independently
of our thought, as a real cause.
What? in the end does the most complete teleology prove ?
Does it prove that there is such an Intelligent Being? No. It
only proves that according to the constitution of our cognitive
1 Bernard’s Transl. of the Kritik der Urtheilskraft (Critique of Judgment),
p. 18.
2 Bernard's Transl. of the Critique of Judgment, pp. 311, 312, and 260, 261.
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 223
faculties . . . we can form absolutely no concept of the possibility
of such a world as this save by thinking a designedly working
Supreme Cause thereof. . . . If we expressed ourselves dogmati-
cally, we should say, ‘There is a God.” But all we are justified
in saying is, ‘Things are so internally constituted as if there were
a God”; ie we cannot otherwise think that purposivencss
which must lie at the bottom of our cognition of the internal
possibility of many natural things, than by representing it, and
the world in general, as a product of an Intelligent Cause—a God.
Now, if this proposition, based on an inevitably necessary maxim
of our Judgment, is completely satisfactory, from every human
point of view, for both the speculative and practical use of our
Reason, 1 should like to know what we lose by not being able to
prove it as also valid for higher beings, from objective grounds
(which are unfortunately beyond our faculties). It is, indeed,
quite certain that we cannot adequately cognise, much less
explain, organised beings and their internal possibility, according
to mere mechanical principles of nature; and, we can say boldly,
it is alike certain that it is absurd for men to make any such
attempt, or to hope that another Newton will arise in the future,
who shall make comprehensible by us the production of a blade of
grass according to natural laws which no design has ordered. We
must absolutely deny this insight to men.'’ But then, how do we
know that in nature, if we could penetrate to the principle by
which it specifies the universal laws known to us, there cannot lie
hidden (in its mere mechanism) a sufficient ground of the pos-
sibility of organised beings, without supposing any design in their
production? Would it not be judged by us presumptuous to say
this ?
Probabilities here are of no account, when we have to do with
judgments of the Pure Reason; we cannot, therefore, judge
objectively, either affirmatively or negatively, concerning the pro-
position: Does a Being, acting according to design, lie at the
basis of what we rightly call natural purposes, as the cause of the
world, and consequently as its author? . . . The teleological act
of judgment is rightly brought to bear, at least problematically,
upon the investigation of nature, but only in order to bring it
under principles of observation and inquiry according to the
analogy with the causality of purpose, without any pretence to
explain it thereby. It belongs, therefore, to the Reflective and not
to the Determinant Judgment. The concept of combinations and
forms of nature in accordance with purposes is then at least one
principle more for bringing its phenomena under rules where the
laws of simply mechanical causality do not suffice. For we bring
in a teleological ground, when we attribute causality in respect of
1 15 Kant right here? This is the great Question of Philosophy.
224 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
an Object to the concept of an Object, as if it were to be found in
nature (not in ourselves),! or rather when we represent to our-
selves the possibility of the Object after the analogy of that
causality which we experience in ourselves, and consequently
think nature technically as through a special faculty. If, on the
other hand, we did not ascribe to it such a method of action, its
causality would have to be represented as blind mechanism. If,
on the contrary, we supply to nature causes acting designedly, and
consequently place at its basis teleology, not merely as a regulative
principle for the mere judging of phenomena, to which nature can
be thought as subject in its particular laws, but as a constitutive
principle of the derivation of its products from their causes, then
would the concept of a natural purpose no longer belong to the
Reflective but to the Determinant Judgment. Then, in fact, it
would not belong specially to the Judgment (like the concept of
beauty regarded as formal subjective purposiveness), but as a
rational concept it would introduce into a natural science a new
causality, which we only borrow from ourselves and ascribe to
other beings, without meaning to assume them to be of the same
kind with ourselves.
Now let us return to the Protagoras Myth, which I have
said sets forth the distinction between the teleological and the
mechanical methods of explaining the world and its parts.
In the animals as equipped by Epimetheus, Afterthought,
“who was not very wise,” the world and its parts are pre-
sented as products of mere mechanism which are regarded by
foolish Afterthought as due to his own design. The qualities
with which Epimetheus equips the animals are only those by
which they barely survive in their struggle for existence. An
animal that is small and weak burrows in the earth, and
survives. But to suppose that its power of burrowing was
designed with a view to its survival is to forget that it was
only Afterthought who conferred the power, not Forethought.
To suppose design here is as unnecessary surely as it would
be to suppose that gold ore was hidden in the quartz in order
that men might have difficulty in finding it. As a matter of
fact, small weak animals that burrow are not generally found
by their enemies; as a matter of fact, animals with thick fur
do not generally perish in a cold climate; as a matter of fact,
swift animals are not generally caught; as a matter of fact,
1 The proper understanding of the Doctrine of ἐδέαι seems to me to depend
on the proper appreciation of the point here put by Kant.
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 225
prolific animals generally do not die off fast enough to become
extinct. And yet Afterthought takes credit to himself for all
this !
In such cases there is really no design—no Forethought,
—merely the inevitable consequence of blind natural law ;
and it is only foolish Afterthought who pretends that there
is design—Afterthought who always begins to reflect after
the fait accompli, Afterthought the Father, as Pindar
says, of Pretence—rav "Eaimadéos . . . ὀψινόου θυγατέρα
Πρόφασιν But the pretence of Epimetheus is found out.
He has nothing left wherewith to equip Man. He can seem
to “design” only where mechanism really does the work—
really produces the results which he pretends to produce by
his “design.” The various modes of structure and habit
by which the lower animals correspond with their various
environments (and the summary list of these modes given
in the Myth shows that Plato has the eye of the true
naturalist)—the various modes of animal correspondence—are
indeed best accounted for mechanically, without any Epime-
thean pretence of teleology. But when we pass from the
ἀναγκαῖον of mere animal survival to the καλόν of human
civilisation, we pass, Plato in this Myth seems to tell us,
into another order of things. The mere survival of animals
is not such a great thing that we must think of it as caused
by Prometheus—as designed in the true sense; but the
civilised life of Man is too beautiful and good a thing not to
be designed in the true sense—not to be an end consciously
aimed at by the Creator, who uses as his means the Art
which Prometheus gave to a few, and the Virtue which
Hermes placed within the reach of all. In short, Plato
seems to say in this Myth that a teleological explanation
of Man’s Place in the Cosmos is indispensable. But let us
note that the teleological explanation which he offers is
conveyed in Myth. Plato’s attitude here towards teleology
is not different from Kant’s, if allowance be made for the
difference between the mythical and the critical ways of
expression. “Though not for the Determinant, yet for the
Reflective Judgment,” says Kant,’ “we have sufficient ground
1 Pindar, Pyth. v. 34.
2 Bernard’s Transl. of the Crit. of Judgment p. 35.
226 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
for judging man to be, not merely, like all organised beings,
a natural purpose,, but also the ultimate purpose of nature
here on earth.” It need hardly be said that the assumption
or working hypothesis which Kant here makes on behalf of
Man does not stand alone. If oaks could speak, they would
say that the Oak is “the ultimate purpose of nature here on
earth.”
Ill
My next observation is on the account given of the origin
of Virtue—daperj—in the Protagoras Myth.
The gift of Epimetheus is ¢vaws—bodily structure and
function, with the instincts and habits thereon dependent,
whereby the lower animals correspond accurately, but blindly,
with a narrow immediate environment; the gift of Pro-
metheus to Man, whose mere φύσις is not adequate to the
wider environment into which his destiny advances him, is
Art, τέχνη, which, though imparted to few, benefits the whole
race by completing φύσις, to borrow the phrase in which
Aristotle? expresses the close relation existing between
Nature and Art, φύσις and τέχνη. Plato, too, wishes us to
look at the relation as a close one; for in the Myth Pro-
metheus takes up his brother’s unfinished work. But ἀρετή
—morality (as distinguished, on the one hand, from φύσι-----
natural constitution—the gift of Epimetheus to animals, and,
on the other hand, from réyvy—aquired skill in some depart-
ment—the gift of Prometheus to a few men)—dpery, as dis-
tinguished from φύσις and τέχνη, is distributed by Hermes to
all men. All men have implanted in them what may be
called “an original moral sense,” which education appeals to
and awakens. All men are capable of morality as they are
capable of speech. Virtue is “ learnt” as one’s mother tongue
is learnt, without any special instruction like that through
which some particular art or craft is acquired by a person
specially capable of acquiring it. Here the resemblance and
difference between Virtue and Art—a subject approached by
1 “An organised product of nature (a natural p pure is one in which every
part is reciprocally purpose (end) and means.” Bernard’s Transl. of Crit. of
Judgment, p. 280 ; οἵ, Watson's Selections from Kant, p. 345.
* Phys. ii. 8, 199 a 15: ὅλως δὲ ἡ τέχνη τὰ μὲν ἐπιτελεῖ ἃ ἡ φύσις ἀδυνατεῖ
ἀπεργάσασθαι, τὰ δὲ μιμεῖται.
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 227
Plato from many sides-—is viewed from yet another side, in
Myth, and, therefore, we may take it, with deep insight into
its metaphysical import. Art, though it is the gift of Pro-
metheus, and distinguishes Man, as working for consciously
realised future ends, from the brutes, which, at most, live in
a dream of the present, is still only “a completion of nature,”
and Man does not yet live the true life of Man under the
régime of Prometheus. The gift of Prometheus, indeed, came
from Heaven, but it was stolen. The Godlike intelligence of
Man employs itself in the pursuit of objects which, though
really means under the providence of the Creator to the ultimate
realisation of the true human life, are not yet regarded by
Man himself as more than means to the convenient life of the
dominant animal on earth. Man, having received the stolen
gift, conquers the lower animals; yet still homo homini lupus.
But the gift which makes him see, with the eye of justice
and respect, his fellow-man as an End along with himself in
a Kingdom of Ends—this gift was not stolen, but is of the
Grace of God. It is given to all men, or at least is a
ἕρμαιον Which all may hope in the course of life to find; and
it is given in greater measure to some men than to others.
Great teachers of the moral ideal arise, like great poets,
specially inspired; and their power, whether manifested
in the silent example of their lives, or in the prophetic
utterance of Myth, is felt in its effects by all; but the secret
of it is imcommunicable.!
The gift of ἀρετή in greater measure is not, indeed, alluded
to in the Protagoras Myth, but it is, after all, merely an
eminent instance of the gift as described in that Myth. The
gift of ἀρετή, whether in less or greater measure, is of the
Grace of God. Such a doctrine is properly conveyed in Myth ;
and the discourse of Protagoras in which it is conveyed is, I
submit, a true Myth, because it sets forth the a prior?, not, as
Schleiermacher and some other critics maintain, a mere
Sophistic Apologue or Allegory illustrating and popularising
a@ posterior. data.
“As to the myth brought forward by Protagoras,” says
Schleiermacher,” “ there is no need to number it as some have
1 See Meno, 99, 100,
2 Introduction to the Protagoras, p. 96, Dobson’s Transl.
228 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
done, good-naturedly raising it to an exalted rank, among those
of Plato’s own; on the contrary, if not the property of Prota-
goras himself, as seems likely, though there is no evidence to
confirm the supposition, yet the manner in which Plato applies
it makes it much more probable that it is, at all events, com-
posed in his spirit. For precisely as is natural to one of a
coarsely materialistic mode of thinking, whose philosophy does
not extend beyond immediate sensuous experience, the reason-
ing principle in men is only viewed as a recompense for their
deficient corporeal conformation, and the idea of right with
the feeling of shame, as requisite for a sensuous existence,
and as something not introduced into the minds of men until
a later period.”
“ Not introduced into the minds of men until a later
period!” This objection appears to me to be founded on a
misunderstanding of what a Myth is and does. It is of the
very essence of a Myth to represent as having a history in
time what in itself is out of time. The Soul, which is the
Subject of all experience in time, is mythologically set forth
as an Object or Thing whose creation, incarnation and earthly
life, disembodied state and penance, re-incarnation and final
purification or damnation, can be traced as events in time.
How absurd to draw inferences from the chronology of such a
history! It is not the historical question, When the mind
received the idea of Virtue, whether later or sooner, that Plato
is really concerned with; but the philosophical question,
What is the true nature of Virtue—of the Virtuous Soul—of
the Soul itself at its best? “The Soul to Plato,” as Hegel '
says, “is not a Zing the permanence or non-permanence of
which we may discuss, but a Universal.” Yet in Myth this
Universal is necessarily set forth as a Zhing permanent
throughout a succession of changes in time. It is indeed no
easy matter always to remember that a Myth is a Myth.
IV
A Myth may be told in painting, or embroidery, or sculp-
ture, as well as in words; and I am going to conclude these
remarks on the Protagoras Myth by asking the reader to look
1 Gesch. der Phil. vol. xiv. p. 187 (1842).
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 229
ab a sarcophagus in the Capitoline Museum on which the
mystery of Man’s birth and life and death is rendered for the
eye in a relief representing, naively enough, the history of the
Butterfly-Soul and its Clay Body, the handiwork of Prometheus, '
There sits Prometheus with a basket of clay beside him ;
on his knees a little human figure standing, which he supports
with his left hand; while his right hand, holding the model-
ling stick, is drawn back, its work finished. On the head
of the little human figure Athena lightly sets a butterfly.
Behind and above, Clotho spins the thread of life, and
Lachesis draws the horoscope on a globe of the Heavens, It
is morning, for Helios with his chariot and horses is rising
on the left hand. Beneath him is seated Gaia with her horn
of plenty; near him lies Oceanus with his rudder in his hand;
while the Wind-God blows through his shell; and, half hidden
among these elemental powers, Eros kisses Psyche.
Now let us turn from the Morning and Day of the sculp-
ured Myth, and look at its Evening and Night. On the right
of the two central figures, Prometheus and Athena, close by
Athena with her buttertly, stands Night, a tall draped woman,
above whom is Selene in her car, with her veil making a
erescent behind her in the wind as she rides. At the feet of
Night lies a Youth, dead, with his butterfly-soul fluttering
near. Death, with down-turned torch, is bending over the
corpse, and Fate sits at its head unrolling a scroll on her
knee; while the Soul of the Youth——now a little-winged
human form,—led by Hermes, is already on its westward way
to Hades.
This is the front of the sarcophagus; and the two ends
include the mystery of the front in a larger mystery. On the
one end is Hephaestus at his forge, and the fire is burning
which Prometheus stole. On the other end the sin is
punished—Prometheus lies bound upon Caucasus, and the
vulture sits over him; but Heracles, with his bow bent, is
coming to deliver him.
1 The version of the Myth presupposed by the Capitoline artist is plainly
Neo-Platonic. In the Myth as Plato has it in the Protagoras, Prometheus does
not make Man. On the Capitoline sarcophagus (No. 446 [13], described by
Helbig, Fiihrer durch die offentl. Sammlungen klass. Alterth. in Rom., vol. 1.
p. 341; and ef. Mitchell, History of Anc. Sculpture, p. 693), he does ; just as, in
Plotinus, Znn. iv. 3. 13 (quoted p. 238 infra), he—not, as in Hesiod, 0. e¢ D.
49 ff., Hephaestus—makes Pandora.
230 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Vv
(Eacursus on Allegory)
The story of Prometheus, whether as told in the Prota-
goras, or as represented on the Capitoline sarcophagus, is, 1
am prepared to maintain, a genuine Myth—sets forth a
mystery which the scientific understanding cannot fathom.
At the same time, it is a Myth which evidently lends itself
more easily than those which we have hitherto examined to
allegorical interpretation, and, indeed, in Neo-Platonic hands
became the subject of very beautiful allegorical interpretation.
It would seem, then, that at the Protagoras Myth we have
reached the stage in our review of the Platonic Myths at
which some connected remarks may be offered on a point
which has been already alluded to—the Difference between
Myth and Allegory; and along with Allegory we may con-
sider Parable.
I remarked a little while ago that a composition which,
as a whole, isa Myth, and not an Allegory, is often found to
be built up of parts, some of which are Allegories. The
Phaedrus Myth and the Divina Commedia are compositions of
this build. This partly explains the circumstance that even
the noblest Myths have so often fallen an easy prey to alle-
gorical interpretation. Because the parts are plainly Alle-
gories, it is supposed that the whole is an Allegory. And
there are no limits to allegorical interpretation. Any Myth
—nay, any true account of historical events or of natural
phenomena—can be interpreted as an Allegory, setting forth
any dogma, religious, philosophical, or scientific.
The importance of the part played by the allegorical
interpretation of Homer in the Greek philosophical schools, of
the Old Testament History among the Alexandrine Jews and
Christian Fathers, and of the Platonic Myths among the Neo-
Platonists,' cannot easily be over-estimated by the historian of
| ««The Myths were accepted by common consent as the text for the deepest
"κων aaa of the later Platonic schools, and so have contributed, through
them, more largely than any other part of Plato’s writings to the sum of
common thoughts.”—Westcott’s Lssays in the History of Religious Thought in
the West (‘The Myths of Plato”), p. 46.
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 251
philosophical and religious thought. As early as the time of
Xenophanes! it was felt that the tendency of the popular
mythology was immoral. “ Homer and Hesiod,” he says,“ have
ascribed to the Gods all things that are a shame and a disgrace
among men—thefts and adulteries,and deception of one another.”
With this verdict Plato is in entire agreement (Rep. 378 D) ;
but not with the method of allegorical interpretation (see
Phaedrus, 229), which attempted to save both Homer and
morality.” Plato, objecting to the allegorical interpretation
of Myth on literary and philosophical grounds, as well as on
the practical ground alleged in Rep. 578 p—that children
cannot distinguish between allegorical and literal meaning,—
banishes Homer from the educational curriculum, and in lieu
of his stories, since children must begin with stories, sub-
stitutes newly invented stories—moral tales, we may suppose,
for he gives no specimens—in which Gods and human beings
behave in a manner which can, and ought to, be imitated,
just as the good people behave in some modern story-books for
the young.
But in his objection to the allegorisation of Homer Plato
stands almost alone. The line generally taken by the Greeks
after, as well as before, Plato’s time was that Homer is an
inspired teacher, and must not be banished from the curri-
culum. If we get beneath the literal meaning, we find him
teaching the highest truth. The allegorical interpretation of
Homer began doubtless in the spirit of apology for revered —
scriptures found to conflict with modern notions; but it soon
became an instrument of historical research and metaphysical
speculation.* Few were content to confine themselves with
Plutarch to the plain ethical lessons to be drawn from Homer
and the poets as picturing human life and nature—to read,
for example, the story of The Intrigue of Aphrodite and Ares,
if not simply for the story, at any rate for nothing more
1 He was alive in 479 B.c.; see Burnet, Early Greek Philosophy, p.
ar On the allegorisation of Homer, beginning with Theagenes, see Lobeck,
Aglaoph. pp. 155 ff.; the feeling which prompted it is expressed in the
aphorism, Ὅμηρος yap ἠσέβησεν, εἰ μὴ ἠλληγόρησεν.
3 —and perhaps also of literary embellishment. ‘‘Ion’s allusion to his embel-
lishments 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” (Jowett’s Introduction to
the Jon).
232 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
abstruse than the lesson that luxury leads to such intrigue.’
Such simple teaching did not satisfy either the historians or
the philosophers.
The Centaurs (Palaephatus tells us) were a body of young
men from the village of Nephelé in Thessaly, who first trained
and mounted horses for the purpose of repelling a herd of bulls
belonging to Ixién, King of the Lapithae, which had run wild
and done great damage ; they pursued these wild bulls on horse-
back, and pierced them with their spears, thus acquiring both
the name of Prickers (xévropes) and the imputed attribute of joint
body with the horse. Aktaeédn was an Arcadian, who neglected
the cultivation of his land for the pleasures of hunting, and was
thus eaten up by the expense of his hounds. The dragon whom
Kadmus killed at Thébes was in reality Drako, King of Thébes ;
and the dragon’s teeth which he was said to have sown, and from
whence sprung a crop of armed men, were in point of fact
elephants’ teeth, which Kadmus as a rich Phoenician had brought
over with him: the sons of Drako sold these elephants’ teeth and
employed the proceeds to levy troops against Kadmus. Daedalus,
instead of flying across the sea on wings, had escaped from Kréte
in a swift sailing-boat under a violent storm; Kottus, Briareus,
and Gygés were not persons with one hundred hands, but inhabit-
ants of the village of Hekatoncheiria in Upper Macedonia, who
warred with the inhabitants of Mount Olympus against the
Titans ; Scylla, whom Odysseus so narrowly escaped, was a fast-
sailing piratical vessel, as was also Pegasus, the alleged winged
horse of Bellerophon.°
1 Plutarch, de Audiendis Poetis, c. 4. The de Aud. Poet. is worth careful
study in connection with the allegorisation of Homer, against which it is a
protest. On the one hand, Poetry is to be read for the entertainment which
may be derived from a ‘‘ good story” simply as a ‘‘ good story” ; thus Homer
bids Odysseus look carefully at the things in Hades, in order that he may go
and tell his wife about them—
ἀλλὰ φόωσδε τάχιστα λιλαίεο, ταῦτα δὲ πάντα
ἴσθ᾽, ἵνα καὶ μετόπισθε τεῇ εἴπησθα γυναικί.
καὶ γὰρ τοῦτο χαριέντως Ὅμηρος εἰς τὴν νεκυίαν εἶπεν, ὡς γυναικὸς ἀκρόασιν οὖσαν
διὰ δὴ τὸ μυθῶδες (c. 2). On the other hand, Poetry is to be read for the lessons
in morality and worldly wisdom which may be learnt from the characters and
conduct of the personages portrayed ; but let not the young think that these
personages are abstract types—all-good or all-bad ; the poets draw for us real
men, mixed of good and bad qualities. Poetry is μίμησις ἠθῶν καὶ βίων καὶ
ἀνθρώπων ob τελείων οὐδὲ καθαρῶν. . . ἀλλὰ μεμιγμένων πάθεσι καὶ δόξαις
Wevddor, διὰ δὲ εὐφυΐαν αὐτοὺς πολλάκις μετατιθέντων πρὸς τὸ κρεῖττον (c. 8).
These are the advantages to be derived from Poetry. We must partake of it
with caution, however, for it is like the polypus—pleasant to eat, but often gives
bad dreams (c. 1).
It ought to be noted that, where Egyptian Myths are concerned, Plutarch
does not eschew the method of aliagcriosl interceahiaiaal but see remarks on
de Is. et Osir. § 78, in Prof. Dill’s Roman Society in the Last Century of the
Western Empire, pp. 76, 77.
2 Grote’s Hist, of Greece, part i. ch. 16, vol. i. pp. 342, 343, edit. 1862.
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 233
While those interested in history adopted this method of
“natural explanation”! in dealing with Myths, the philo-
sophers adopted the method to which it is best to confine the
description “ allegorical interpretation.” Homer's whole story,
and the proper names which occur in it, have a hidden
religious, philosophical, scientific meaning which it is the
work of the method to unfold, by discovering analogies and
etymologies. So far as etymologies were concerned, this
method probably owed something to the lead given by Plato
himself in the Cratylus; but while Plato’s etymologies are
put forward playfully, and as it were διὰ μυθολογίας, the
etymologies of the Stoics and other allegorisers of Myth seem
to be seriously offered as the meanings which Homer really
had in his mind when he used the names. “ Magnam suscepit
molestiam,” says Cicero,’ “ et minime necessariam Zeno primus,
post Cleanthes, deinde Chrysippus, commenticiarum fabularum
reddere rationem, et vocabulorum cur quidque ita appellatum
sit causas explicare.” Two examples of the Stoic method will
be sufficient, with a general reference to Zeller’s Stoves,
Epicureans, and Sceptics, pp. 334 ff (Eng. Transl.).
The One God, of Many Names, πολυώνυμος, is called
Zeus ἀπὸ τοῦ ζῆν : as manifested in air, is called Hera, from
ἀήρ: as manifested in water, is called Poseidon, from πόσις: as
manifested in aether, is called Athena, from αἰθήρ: and so on.°
“Tf Hephaestus,” says Heraclitus the Stoic, “intended the
shield of Achilles to be a representation of this world, what
else is thereby meant but that, by the influence of primary
fire, matter has been shaped into a world?” *
1 See Zeller’s Stoics, Epicureans, and Sceptics, p. 335, n. 1, Engl. Transl.
2 Cic. de Nat. Deor. iii. 24, 63.
3 Diog. Laert. vii. 147.
4 See Zeller’s Stoics, etc., Ὁ. 340, Eng. Transl. ‘‘The Stoics,” says Dr. Bigg
(The Christian Platonists of Alexandria, p. 146), ‘“‘assure us that the heathen
deities are but symbols of the forces of nature, and turn the hideous myths
of Zeus or Dionysus into a manual of physical science.”
On the general subject of the allegorisation of Homer, both before and after
Plato’s time, the reader may consult, in addition to Lobeck, referred to above,
Mr. Adam’s note on Rep. 378 pb, 24, with authorities cited there; Zeller’s
Stoics, Epicureans, and Sceptics, pp. 334 ff., Eng. Transl. ; Jowett’s Dialogues of
Plato, Introd. to Rep. p. xxxviii. ; and Grote’s History of Greece, part i. ch. 16,
from which I extract the following passage (vol. i. p. 344, edit. 1862) :—
“ΤῸ remains that we should notice the manner in which the ancient myths
were received and dealt with by the philosophers. The earliest expression
which we hear, on the part of philosophy, is the severe censure bestowed upon
them on ethical grounds by Xenophanes of Kolophén, and seemingly by some
others of his contemporaries. It was apparently in reply to such charges, which
234 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
The Jews, Palestinian and Alexandrine, before and after
Philo’s time,’ following the lead given by the Greek inter-
preters of Homer, applied the allegorical method to the Old
Testament scriptures. One may estimate the length to which
allegorical interpretation of the Old Testament was carried by
θεραπευταί ” and others before Philo’s time from the circum-
stance that even Philo himself was alarmed. The allegorising
of the Law, he thought, makes for laxity in the observance of
it.» The wise man will both seek out the hidden meaning,
and observe the letter of the Law. He will allegorise without
breaking with old custom.* But where the allegorisation, not
of the Law, but of the History of the Old Testament scrip-
tures, is concerned, Philo proceeds without fear. At once an
ardent Platonist and a Hebrew of the Hebrews, he assumed
the substantial accuracy of the narrative of events given in
the Old Testament from the creation of the world downwards
throughout the whole history of his Race; and, at the same
time, he believed that the history of his Race was not mere
history—it was philosophy, or rather theology, as well as
did not admit of being directly rebutted, that Theagenés of Rhegium (about
520 8.6.) first started the idea of a double meaning in the Homeric and Hesiodic
narratives—an interior sense, different from that which the words in their
obvious meaning bore, yet to a certain extent analogous, and discoverable
by sagacious divination. Upon this principle he allegorised especially the battle
of the Gods in the Jziad. In the succeeding century, Anaxagoras and Metro-
dérus carried out the allegorical explanation more comprehensively and
systematically ; the former representing the mythical personages as mere
mental conceptions invested with name and gender, and illustrative of ethical
precepts,—the latter connecting them with physical principles and phaenomena.
Metrodérus resolved not only the persons of Zeus, Héré, and Athéné, but also
those of Agamemnon, Achilles, and Hectér, into various elemental combinations
and physical agencies, and treated the adventures ascribed to them as natural
facts concealed under the veil of allegory. Empedocles, Prodicus, Antisthenes,
Parmenides, Heracleides of Pontus, and, in a later age, Chrysippus and the
Stoic philosophers generally, followed more or less the same principle of treating
the popular Gods as allegorical personages ; while the expositors of Homer (such
as Stesimbrotus, Glaucén, and others, even down to the Alexandrine age),
though none of them proceeded to the same extreme length as Metrodérus,
employed allegory pres αν other media of explanation for the purpose of
solving difficulties, or eluding reproaches against the poet.”
Grote, in a footnote (p. 345, n. 1) to the foregoing passage, calls attention
to the ethical turn given to the stories of Circe, the Sirens, and Scylla, by
Xenophon, Mem. i. 3, 7, and ii. 6, 11-31.
1 The allegorising Jewish school began two hundred years before Philo (fl.
A.D. 39); see Gfrorer, Urchristenthum, 1. 83.
2 See Conybeare’s Philo, de Vita Contemplativa, p. 293: the θεραπευταί (also
called ἱκέται, cudtores dewm—ascetic Jewish congregations or guilds) allegorised
the Pentateuch. This was necessary in order to make Gentile converts, who
looked for Plato in Moses.
3 See Conybeare’s Philo, de Vita Cont. pp. 300, 301.
4 See Gfrorer, Urchristenthum, i. 104.
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 235
history, The events recorded were not only true in fact;
they constituted also a continuous revelation of hidden meaning.
He looked at the history of his Race both as a chronicle of
actual events, and as a great miracle-play in which dogma
was put on the stage of this visible world. This double
point of view is very difficult to enter into; but we must
enter into it, so far, at least, as to treat it very seriously, if
we are to understand the “tendency” of certain currents of
religious and philosophical thought which have prevailed since
his day, even down to the present time. Here is a passage
from his book de Sacrificiis Abelis et Caini,’ in which the
allegorical interpretation of “sacred history” reminds us of
the method by which not only “sacred history” but tradi-
tional dogma is, in our own day, being rewritten as
“ philosophy ” :—
For Abraham, coming with great haste and alacrity, com-
mands Virtue, Sarah, to hasten and ferment three measures of meal,
and to make cakes under the ashes, when God, attended by two
Supreme Powers (ἡνίκα ὁ Θεὸς δορυφορούμενος ὑπὸ δυεῖν τῶν ἀνωτάτω
δυνάμεων), Dominion and Goodness, Himself one in the middle,
produced three images in the visual soul (ὁρατικῃ yYvyy), each of
which it is impossible to measure (for His Powers also are not to
be circumscribed), but they measure all things. His Goodness is
the measure of the good, His Dominion the measure of things sub-
ject ; and the Ruler Himself the measure of every thing corporeal
and incorporeal. . . . It is good for these three measures to be
fermented, as it were, and commingled in the soul, that being
persuaded of the existence of a supreme God, who surpasses His
Powers, and is either seen without them, or appears with them,
it may receive impressions of His might and beneficence, and
be initiated in the most perfect mysteries (τῶν τελείων μύστις
γενομένη).
In the Old Testament history, then, Philo recognises at
once a higher, or mystic, and a historical, or literal, sense—
ἡ δι’ ὑπονοίας ἀπόδοσις ---ἡ ἀλληγορία, and ἡ ῥητὴ
διήγησις." The personages in the book of Genesis are at once
historical, and τρόποι ψυχῆς. Adam is ἄνθρωπος γηγενής ;
the fact of his existence is historical, but the details of his
history are mythical, and must be interpreted allegorically :
1 De Sacrif. Ab. et Caini, (15), 59, ed. Cohn, p. 173, Mangey.
2 Gfrorer, o.c. i. 84.
236 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
thus his rib is ~vOHdes—nobody can take it literally... Noah
is justice, Enoch hope, Moses λόγος προφήτης. Similarly,
Egypt is the body, Canaan piety.” Again—and here Philo’s
Platonism prevails—it was not God, but the λόγος, who
appeared in the burning bush.’ Spiritual men are satisfied,
he says, with the truth that God exists; but the πολλοί need
an anthropomorphic God. Moses gives God feet and hands,
on account of the weak understanding of his readers. This
is as it ought to be. Moses is like the physician who must
keep his patient in ignorance of the truth. But for the
educated reader such representations of God are dangerous.
They lead to Atheism, and the only true method of dealing
with them is that of Allegory.* The allegorical wisdom,
the possession of the few wise, is compared by Philo to the
Hellenic Mysteries: ταῦτα ὦ μύσται κεκαθαρμένοι τὰ ὦτα,
ὡς ἱερὰ ὄντως μυστήρια παραδέχεσθε." Here, of course,
Philo borrows directly from Plato,° who often compares
Philosophy, especially when Myth is its vehicle, to initiation,
as in Sympos. 2098, 210, and in Phaedrus, 249 c, 2508.’
But it is only a phrase that Philo borrows from Plato.
What a Myth is Philo does not understand. A Myth is
indeed a mystery and remains a mystery. Philo and his
following are only concerned to make it something under-
stood.
For the employment of the method of allegorical interpre-
tation by the Christian Fathers I cannot do better than
refer the reader generally to Dr. Bigg’s Christian Platonists of
Alexandria, especially to Lecture iv., and to Hatch’s Hibbert
Lectures, 1888, Lecture iii., on Greek and Christian Exegesis.
To these references I would add a quotation from Professor
G. Adam Smith’s Modern Criticism and the Preaching of the
Old Testament, pp. 226-228 :—
The early fathers were interested in the Old Testament
mainly for its types and predictions of Christ. The allegorical
became the orthodox exegesis, and was at last reduced to a theory
' Gfrorer, o.c. i. 98, 99. 2 Gfrorer, o.c. i. 88.
3. Gfrorer, 0.c. 1. 87. 4 Gfrorer, ο.6. 1. 97.
5 Philo, de cherubim, Mang. i. 147 ; Gfrorer, Urchristenthwm, i. 100.
® As he does also at the end of the passage quoted above from the de Sacrif.
Ab. et Cain.
7 See Couturat, de Platonis Mythis, p. 55.
ΤῊΝ PROTAGORAS MYTH 937
by Origen, and elaborated into a system by the school which he
founded. . . . When the heretics began to outdo the orthodox in
allegorical exposition, the latter awoke to the dangers of the habit
they had fostered, and loudly proclaimed the need of sobriety and
reason in the pursuit of it. But the historical sense of the age
was small, and till the close of the 4th century no exegete suc-
ceeded in finding his feet on a sound historical basis. [Theodore
of Mopsuestia (350-429) was the father of historical exegesis. |
To Theodore the types and prophecies of the Old Testament had,
besides their references to the future, a prior value in themselves
and for the age in which they were delivered.'
It is perhaps worth reminding the reader that the Christian
Fathers had high authority for their allegorical interpretation
of the Holy Scriptures. St. Paul (@al. iv. 22-26) had author-
ised such interpretation :—
It is written that Abraham had two sons, the one by a bond-
maid, the other by afreewoman. But he who was of the bondwoman
was born after the flesh ; but he of the freewoman was by promise.
Which things are an allegory (ἅτινά ἐστιν ἀλληγορούμενα) : for
these are the two covenants ; the one from the Mount Sinai, which
gendereth to bondage, which is Agar. For this Agar is Mount
Sinai in Arabia, and answereth to Jerusalem which now is, and is
in bondage with her children. But Jerusalem which is above is
free, which is the mother of us all.”
In the Philosophy of Plotinus and the Neo-Platonic
School the allegorical interpretation of Myths—especially
of those which describe and account for the Fall and
Ascension of Souls after the manner of the Phaedrus Myth
and the Discourse of Diotima—holds a position the import-
ance of which it would be difficult for the student of the
development of religious thought to exaggerate. No more
can be attempted here than to give a general idea of the
1 Chrysostom, in his ἑρμηνεία of Isaiah (vol. vi. p. 17, ed. Montfaucon),
took the same line :—éyw δέ, he says, οὔτε ταύτην ἀτιμάζω τὴν ἐξήγησιν (the alle-
gorical), καὶ τὴν ἑτέραν (the historical) ἀληθινεστέραν εἶναί φημι. Commenting
on the new line of exegesis taken by Theodore and Chrysostom, Professor G.
Adam Smith brings out its significance in one admirable sentence (p. 231) :
** Recognise that the fundamental meaning of the prophecies must be that which
they bore to the living generation to whom they were first addressed, and you
are at once inspired by their message to the men of your own time.”
2 Similarly in 1 Peter iii. Noah’s ark, wherein ‘‘eight souls were saved by
water,” is allegorically interpreted as Baptism. In the Old Testament, Hosea
(xii. 1-5) allegorises, according to the writer of art. ‘‘ Allegorical Interpretation ”
in the Jewish Encycl.
238 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Neo-Platonic method of dealing with these Myths; and
perhaps the following specimens may be sufficient for this
purpose.
Plotinus (πη. iv. 3. 13), adhering to the Orphiec doctrine
which Plato sets forth in the Phaedrus Myth, speaks of the
Descent of Souls into the bodies prepared for them as taking
place, for each Soul, at an appointed time :—xal ἄλλος ἄλλῃ
χρόνος, οὗ παραγενομένου οἷον κήρυκος καλοῦντος κατίασι
καὶ εἰσέδυ εἰς τὸ πρόσφορον σῶμα. Their descent, he says,
is fated or determined by universal law; and yet it is free,
for, in embodying themselves, Souls obey a universal law
which is realised im themselves. They are free, as νοῦς,
Intelligence, is free, for they obey the necessity which is that
of their own nature:—xal ὁ μὲν πρὸ κόσμου νοῦς εἷμαρ-
μένην ἔχει τὴν τοῦ μένειν ἐκεῖ ὁπόσον καὶ πέμπειν, καὶ
τὸ καθέκαστον τῷ καθόλου ὑποπῖπτον νόμῳ πέμπεται"
ἔγκειται γὰρ ἑκάστῳ τὸ καθόλου καὶ ὁ νόμος οὐκ ἔξωθεν
τὴν ἰσχὺν εἰς τὸ τελεσθῆναι ἴσχει, ἀλλὰ δέδοται ἐν αὐτοῖς
χρησομένοις εἶναι καὶ περιφέρουσιν αὐτόν.
‘This Cosmos, then,” he continues, “having many Lights, and
being illumined by Souls, receiveth beauty added unto beauty
from the great Gods and from the Intelligences which bestow
Souls. And this, methinks, is the meaning of that Myth which
telleth how that, when Prometheus—that is Forethought—had
fashioned a woman,! the other gods did thereafter adorn her: one
gave unto this creature of earth and water human speech, and
beauty as of a goddess; and Aphrodite gave unto her one gift,
and the Graces another, and all the other gods added their several
gifts ; and she was called Pandora, because that all gave unto her
who was fashioned by the Forethought of Prometheus. But
whereas Epimetheus, who is Afterthought, rejected this gift of
Prometheus, the Myth thereby signifieth that the choice of that
which partaketh more of the nature of the Intelligible is the better
choice. Yea, the Maker is himself bound, for he hath contact of
some sort with that which hath proceeded from him, and is there-
fore constrained by bonds which are without. But whereas
Heracles releaseth him from his bonds, the Myth signifieth that
he hath in him a Power whereby he is yet able to attain unto
deliverance from these bonds,” ”
1 In Hesiod, 0. et D. 49 ff. Hephaestus, not Prometheus, makes Pandora ;
and Prometheus warns his brother not to accept her, but he pays no heed to the
warning,
2 Plot. nn. iv. 3. 14; and see A. Ritter, die Psychologie des Plotin (1867),
p. 42. Pandora is the World endowed by the Soul with ideal gifts.
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 239
Another Myth from which the Neo-Platonists drew largely
was that of Narcissus! Their interpretation of this Myth
hinges on the identification of the “ Mirror of Dionysus” with
the “ Bowl of Dionysus.”* The Soul remains at peace in its
heavenly home, till it sees its own image in the water of this
mirror. It plunges into the water to embrace the image, and
drinks forgetfulness of its heavenly estate :—iédovra γάρ, says
Plotinus (nn. i. 6. 8), δεῖ τὰ ἐν σώμασι καλὰ μήτοι προσ-
τρέχειν, ἀλλὰ γνόντα, ὥς εἰσιν εἰκόνες καὶ ἴχνη καὶ σκιαΐ,
φεύγειν πρὸς ἐκεῖνο οὗ ταῦτα εἰκόνες. εἰ γάρ τις ἐπιδράμοι
λαβεῖν βουλόμενος ὡς ἀληθινόν, οἷα εἰδώλου καλοῦ ἐφ᾽
ὕδατος ὀχουμένου, οὗ λαβεῖν βουληθείς, ὥς πού τις
μῦθος, δοκῶ μοι, αἰνίττεται, δὺς εἰς τὸ κάτω τοῦ ῥεύματος
ἀφανὴς ἐγένετο, τὸν αὐτὸν δὴ τρόπον ὁ ἐχόμενος τῶν καλῶν
σωμάτων καὶ μὴ ἀφιείς, οὐ τῷ σώματι, τῇ δὲ ψυχῇ κατα-
δύσεται εἰς σκοτεινὰ καὶ ἀτερπῆ τῷ VO βάθη, ἔνθα τυφλὸς
ἐν ἅδου μένων καὶ ἐνταῦθα κἀκεῖ σκιαῖς σύνεσται. φεύ-
γωμεν δὴ φίλην ἐς πατρίδα, ἀληθέστερον ἄν τις παρα-
κελεύοιτος τίς οὖν ἡ φυγή; κιτιλ.: and again, in Lnn. iv.
3. 12, he says—av@pwrav δὲ ψυχαὶ εἴδωλα αὑτῶν ἰδοῦσαι
οἷον Διονύσου ἐν κατόπτρῳ ἐκεῖ ἐγένοντο ἄνωθεν ὁρμηθεῖσαι
οὐκ ἀποτμηθεῖσαι οὐδ᾽ αὗται τῆς ἑαυτῶν ἀρχῆς τε καὶ νοῦ.
οὐ γὰρ μετὰ νοῦ ἦλθον, ἀλλ᾽ ἔφθασαν μὲν μέχρι γῆς,
κάρα δὲ αὐταῖς ἐστήρικται ὑπεράνω τοῦ οὐρανοῦ. πλέον
δὲ αὐταῖς κατελθεῖν συμβέβηκεν, ὅτι τὸ μέσον αὐταῖς ἡἠν-
αγκάσθη φροντίδος δεομένου τοῦ εἰς ὃ ἔφθασαν φροντίσαι.
Ζεὺς δὲ πατὴρ ἐλεήσας πονουμένας θνητὰ αὐτῶν τὰ δεσμὰ
ποιῶν περὶ ἃ πονοῦνται δίδωσιν ἀναπαύλας ἐν χρόνοις
ποιῶν σωμάτων ἐλευθέρας, iv ἔχοιεν ἐκεῖ καὶ αὗται
γίνεσθαι, οὗπερ ἡ τοῦ παντὸς ψυχὴ ἀεὶ οὐδὲν τὰ τῇδε
ἐπιστρεφομένη." Souls, then, descending, at their appointed
1 See Ovid, Met. iii., and Pausanias, ix. 31, for this Myth.
2 See Macrobius, in Somn. i. 12. 66: ‘‘ Hoc est quod Plato notavit in Phaedone
animum in corpus trahi nova ebrietate trepidantem, volens novum potum materialis
alluvionis intelligi, quo gravata deducitur. Arcani hujus indicium est Liberi
Patris crater ille sidereus, et hoc est, quod veteres Lethaeum fluvium vocaverunt,
ipsum autem Liberum Patrem Orphaici νοῦν ὑλικόν suspicantur intelligi.” Lobeck,
who quotes this passage from Macrobius (Aglaoph. p. 736), criticises it as departing
from the original conception of the κρατήρ, which is that of the bowl in which Plato’s
Demiurgus mixes the ingredients, first of the World-Soul, and then of human souls.
3 See Lobeck (Aglaoph. p. 555, for the place of the κάτοπτρον in the Zagreus
Myth ; and Rohde (Psyche, ii. 117) for Zagreus as a type, along with Narcissus,
of the passage of the Unity of the World-Principle into the multiplicity of
sensible phenomena.
240 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
times, come to the water which is the κάτοπτρον Διονύσου,
and enamoured of their own images reflected therein—that
is, of their mortal bodies—plunge into the water. This
water is the water of oblivion, of λήθη, and they that drink
of it go down into the σπήλαιον---- 8. cave of this world.’
The wise soul drinks moderately; for to drink deeply is to
lose all ἀνάμνησις of the intelligible world. The wise soul is
thus the “dry” soul—£np7 ψυχή, as the phrase of Heraclitus?
seems to be understood by the Neo-Platonists who quote it.°
The dry soul hearkens, in this life, to the genius who accom-
panies her in her κάθοδος : but, over all the genii of particular
souls, Eros rules as swmmus genius. Creuzer* mentions a
picture in which Narcissus is represented as gazing at his
own image in the water, and the Heavenly Eros as standing
with a sad countenance behind him. “ Narcissus adolescens,”
says Ficino,’ “id est, temerarii et imperiti hominis animus, sui
vultum non aspicit; propriam sui substantiam et virtutem
nequaquam animadvertit; sed ejus umbram in aqua pro-
sequitur et amplecti conatur: id est, pulchritudinem in fragili
corpore, et instar aquae fluentis, quae ipsius animi umbra est,
admiratur.”
The moral of the Narcissus Myth is: Free thyself by
“ecstasy” from the life of flux and sensible appearances—
escape from the Stream of Pleasure and the Flesh—) ῥευστὴ
τοῦ ἐνύλου σώματος φύσις °—the Stream of Generation, which
is the “ Mirror of Dionysus.” ἢ
With the Myth of Narcissus thus allegorised, the Neo-
Platonists brought the story of Odysseus into very close
relation. Thus the passage quoted above from “nn. i. 6. 8, in
which the immersion of the Soul in the Stream of Sense is
described, is immediately followed by a passage in which the
deliverance from that stream is compared to the flight of
1 ψυχῇ καὶ δεσμὸς τὸ σῶμα Kal τάφος καὶ ὁ κόσμος αὐτῇ σπήλαιον καὶ ἄντρον,
Plot. Znn. iv. 8. 3; and ef. iv. 8. 1, where the doctrine of the Fall or Incarna-
tion of Souls, as set forth by Plato in the Phaedrus and Timaeus and by Em-
pedocles, is reviewed.
2 See Bywater’s Heracliti Eph. Reliquiae, \xxiv. lxxy.
3 See Creuzer, Plotinus de Pulch. Ὁ. xxxvi.
4 Plot. de Pulch. p. xiii.
5 Ficinus, in Plat. Sympos. cap. 17, quoted by Creuzer, Plot. de Pulch.
». Lxviii.
oi See Creuzer, Plot. de Pulch. pp. ἵν]. lvii.
7 I take it that the κάτοπτρον Διονύσου of the Neo-Platonists is due to ἃ
‘conflation’ of the Narcissus Myth and the Zagreus-Dionysus Myth.
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 241
Odysseus from the enchantments of Circe and Calypso :—
tis οὖν ἡ φυγή; καὶ πῶς dvakipeOa; οἷον ἀπὸ μάγου
Κίρκης φησὶν ἢ Καλυψοῦς Ὀδυσσεὺς αἰνιττόμενος, δοκεῖ
μοι, μεῖναι οὐκ ἀρεσθείς, καίτοι ἔχων ἡδονὰς δι’ ὀμμάτων
καὶ κάλλει πολλῴ αἰσθητῴ συνών. πατρὶς δὴ ἡμῖν, ὅθεν
παρήλθομεν, καὶ πατὴρ ἐκεῖ. τίς οὖν ὁ στόλος καὶ ἡ
φυγή; οὐ ποσὶ δεῖ διανύσαι: πανταχοῦ γὰρ φέρουσι
πόδες ἐπὶ γῆν ἄλλην ἀπ᾽ ἄλλης: οὐδέ σε δεῖ ἵππων
ὄχημα ἤ τι θαλάττιον παρασκευάσαι, ἀλλὰ ταῦτα πάντα
ἀφεῖναι δεῖ καὶ μὴ βλέπειν, ἀλλ᾽ οἷον μύσαντα ὄψιν ἄλλην
ἀλλάξασθαι καὶ ἀνεγεῖραι, ἣν ἔχει μὲν πᾶς, χρῶνται δὲ
ὀλίγοι.
Similarly, Numenius (quoted by Porphyry, de Ant. Nymph.
cap. 84) 1 makes Odysseus the image of νοῦς gradually, through
various incarnations, freeing itself from the flesh—elxdva τοῦ
διὰ τῆς ἐφεξῆς γενέσεως ἐρχομένου, καὶ οὕτως ἀποκαθ-
ἱσταμένου εἰς τοὺς ἔξω παντὸς κλύδωνος καὶ θαλάσσης
ἀπείρους.
Again, a Pythagorean quoted by Stobaeus, He. Phys. i. 52,
p. 1044, says,"Opunpos δὲ τὴν ἐν κύκλῳ περίοδον Kal περιφορὰν
παλιγγενεσίας Κίρκην προσηγόρευκεν, Ἡλίου παῖδα: and
Eustathius, on Od. i. 51, says, ὅτε τὴν Καλυψώ, εἰ μὲν
βασίλισσα καὶ ἣν οἱ γεωγραφοῦντες παραδιδόασι, μικρὰ
περιεργάζονται οἱ παλαιοί. μεταπλάττονται δὲ αὐτὴν τῇ
ἀλληγορίᾳ εἰς τὸ καθ᾽ ἡμᾶς σῶμα, ὡς συγκαλύπτουσαν
ἐντὸς δίκην ἐλύτρου τὸν ψυχικὸν μάργαρον: ἥτις καὶ αὐτὴ
κατεῖχε τὸν φιλόσοφον ᾽Οδυσσέα, ὡς ἄνθρωπον ἐνδεδεμένον
σαρκί. καὶ μυθικῶς εἰπεῖν, ἐν ἀμφιρύτῃ νήσῳ ὄντα
δενδρηέσση, ἥτις ὄμφαλός ἐστι θαλάσσης, τουτέστιν ἐν
ὑγρῷ σώματι ὄντι, καὶ ὡς ἂν ὁ Ἰ]λάτων εἴπῃ, ἐπιρρύτῳ
καὶ ἀπορρύτῳ (Timaeus, 43 A). . . . ᾿Ἑρμοῦ μέντοι, ὡς
ἐν τοῖς μετὰ ταῦτα αἰνίξεται ὁ ποιητής, μεσιτεύοντος, 6
ἐστε λόγου, γέγονε τῆς κατὰ τὴν φιλοσοφίαν ποθουμένης
πατρίδος, ἤγουν τοῦ νοητοῦ κόσμου, ὅς ἐστι κατὰ τοὺς
Πλατωνικοὺς ψυχῶν πατρὶς ἀληθής" ὁμοίως γέγονε καὶ τῆς
Πηνελόπης, φιλοσοφίας, λυθεὶς καὶ ἀπαλλαγεὶς τῆς τοιαύτης
Καλυψοῦς. With words to the same effect Apuleius closes
his treatise de Deo Socratis :—“Nec aliud te in eodem Ulixe
Homerus docet, qui semper ei comitem voluit esse prudentiam:
1 See Creuzer, Plot. de Pulch. p. 1xxii.
R
242 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
quam poetico ritu Minervam nuncupavit. IRgitur, hac eadem
comitante, omnia horrenda subiit, omnia adversa superavit.
Quippe, ea adjutrice, Cyclopis specus introivit, sed egressus
est: Solis boves vidit, sed abstinuit: ad Inferos demeavit, sed
adscendit. Eadem sapientia comitante, Scyllam praeter
navigavit, nec ereptus est: Charybdi conseptus est, nec
retentus est: Circae poculum bibit, nec mutatus est: ad Loto-
phagos accessit, nec remansit: Sirenas audiit, nec accessit.” Β
Beautiful as the Neo-Platonic allegorisation often is, I
venture to think that the less we associate it with our reading
of Plato’s Myths the better. The Neo-Platonists did not
understand the difference between Myth and Allegory. Alle-
gory is Dogma in picture-writing; but Myth is not Dogma,
and does not convey Dogma. Dogma is gained and main-
tained by Dialectic, which, as Stallbaum says (note on Sep.
614 8), “cannot be applied to the elucidation of the subjects
with which Myth deals, any more than it can, at the other
end of the series, be applied to the elucidation of the particulars
of sense, as such.”
For light in understanding Plato’s Myths, it is to the
independent creations of other great μυθοποιοί, such as Dante,
that we must go, not to the allegorical interpretations of the
Neo-Platonists and their like.”
What Plato himself thinks of allegorical interpretation
we know from a passage near the beginning of the Phaedrus
(229):—-In reply to the question of Phaedrus, whether he
thinks that the story about Orithyia being snatched away by
Boreas from the height overlooking the Ilissus is a true story,
Socrates says, that if he took the learned line, he might
answer, “ Yes, it may be true that once upon a time a girl
called Orithyia was blown by the wind over the cliff and
killed.” But such rationalism, imposing and ponderous, is
surely not very happy as a method, for if you begin to employ
it, where are you to stop? You will have to rationalise all
the stories in Greek mythology, expending a great deal of
matter-of-fact cleverness on an interminable task, and leaving
1 Bacon’s allegorical interpretation of three myths—that of Pan, that of
Perseus, and that of Dionysus—in his de Augmentis Scientiarwm, ii. cap. 18, is
worth comparing with the Neo-Platonic examples given above,
2 For Zeller’s ss of the Neo-Platonic interpretation of Diotima’s Myth
in the Sympos. see his Plato, p. 194, n. 66 (Engl. Transl. ).
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 245
no time for anything worth doing. As for himself, he declares
that, not yet having satisfied the Delphie injunction, “ Know
thyself,” he should be acting ridiculously if he spent his
precious time over the interpretation of these stories: he is
willing to receive them as they are told, and believe them
just as other people believe them.!
Dr. Westcott, in his charming and suggestive essay on
“The Myths of Plato” (the first of his Zssays in the History of
Religious Thought in the West), to which every student of the
subject must feel himself under great obligation, contrasts
Myth and Allegory in the following words :—
In the allegory the thought is grasped first and by itself, and
is then arranged in a particular dress. In the myth, thought and
form come into being together: the thought is the vital principle
which shapes the form; the form is the sensible image which
displays the thought. The allegory is the conscious work of an
individual fashioning the image of a truth which he has seized.
The myth is the unconscious growth of a common mind, which
witnesses to the fundamental laws by which its development is
ruled. The meaning of an allegory is prior to the construction
of the story: the meaning of a myth is first capable of being
separated from the expression in an age long after that in which
it had its origin.
It will be understood that I do not agree with the sugges-
tion contained in the last sentence. I do not recognise the
competence of interpretation to separate the “ meaning” from
1 Grote, Hist. of Greece, part i. ch. xvi. vol. i. pp. 362 ff. (ed. 1862), has re-
marks of exceptional value on this passage, and generally on Plato’s attitude to the
old mythology. ‘‘ Plato,” he says, ‘‘discountenances all attempts to transform
the myths by interpretation into history or philosophy, indirectly recognising
the generic difference between them. . . . He shares the current faith, without
any suspicion or criticism, as to Orpheus, Palamedes, Daedalus, Amphion,
Theseus, Achilles, Chiron, and other mythical personages; but what chiefly
fills his mind is the inherited sentiment of deep reverence for these superhuman
characters and for the age to which they belonged. . . . The more we examine
this sentiment, both in the mind of Plato, as well as in that of the Greeks
generally, the more shall we be convinced that it formed essentially and insepar-
ably a portion of Hellenic religious faith. The myth both presupposes, and
springs out of, a settled basis and a strong expansive force of religious, social,
and patriotic feeling, operating upon a past which is little better than a blank as
to positive knowledge. It resembles history, in so far as its form is narrative ;
it resembles philosophy, in so far as it is occasionally illustrative ; but in its
essence and substance, in the mental tendencies by which it is created, as well as
in those by which it is judged and upheld, it is the popularised expression of the
divine and heroic faith of the people.” See further, vol. i. pp. 370 ff., for a
summary of Grote’s whole discussion of Greek Myths in part i. of his His¢.
of Greece. Iam acquainted with no discussion of them which appears to me so
informing and suggestive as Grote’s.
344 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
the “expression” of a Myth. I hold that Myth has no
dogmatic meaning behind its literal sense. Its “ meaning”
is, first, its literal sense—the story which is told; and then,
beyond this, the feeling which it calls up and regulates. The
further one is removed from the age in which a Myth had its
origin, the more difficult it must be to recover its “meaning ”
of this second sort—that is, the feeling which it called up and
regulated in its maker and his immediate audience. Our task
is not the facile one of reading our own doctrines into a Myth
which has come down to us, but the vastly difficult one of
entering sympathetically into the life of a prophet in a bygone
world,
While the conversion of old narratives, mythical or
historical, into Allegories has most often been the congenial
work of prosaic persons, ἀγροίκῳ τινὶ σοφίᾳ χρώμενοι, it has
sometimes been taken up by the great poets themselves with
happy effect. Let me conclude this part of the subject with
one instance of this—Dante’s beautiful allegorisation of the
story of the three Marys at the Sepulchre :—
Mark saith that Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of
James, and Mary Salome went to find the Saviour at the
Sepulchre and found Him not, but found a young man clothed
in a white garment, who said unto them: “Ye seek the Saviour ;
I say unto you that He is not here; but be not affrighted; go
and tell His disciples and Peter, that He will go before them into
Galilee ; and there shall ye see Him, as He said unto you.”
By these three women are signified the three sects of the
active life, the Epicureans, the Stoics, and the Peripatetics, which
go unto the Sepulchre, to wit, this present World, which is the
receptacle of corruptible things, and seek for the Saviour, to wit,
beatitude, and find it not ; but they find a young man clothed in
a white garment, who, according to the testimony of Matthew and
also of the others, was the Angel of God; thus, Matthew saith,
“The Angel of God descended from heaven, and came and rolled
back the stone and sat upon it, and his countenance was like
lightning, and his raiment like snow.”
This Angel is the Nobility of our Human Nature which
cometh, as it is said, from God, and speaketh in our Reason, and
saith unto each of these sects—that is, unto every man who seeketh
beatitude in the active life—“It is not here; but go and tell the
disciples and Peter ”—that is, those who go about seeking it, and
those who have erred from the right way, like Peter who had
denied Him—‘ that He will go before them into Galilee ”—that
ΤῊΝ PROTAGORAS MYTH 245
is, that beatitude will go before them into Galilee—that is, into
the life of Contemplation. Galilee signifieth whiteness; and as
whiteness is more full of corporeal light than any other colour,
so is Contemplation more full of spiritual light than any other
thing here below. And he saith, “will go before”: he saith not,
“shall be with you”; thus giving us to understand that God
alway goeth before our Contemplation ; here can we never over-
take Him who is our highest beatitude. And he saith, “ There
shall ye see Him, as He said” —that is, there ye shall have of His
joy, to wit, felicity, as it is promised unto you here—that is, as it
is surely ordained that ye may possess it.
Thus it appeareth that we can find our beatitude (which is
this felicity of which we speak), first imperfect in the active life,
that is, in the conduct of the moral virtues, and then perfect—
after a certain fashion—in the conduct of the intellectual virtues.’
Hitherto we have considered the allegorical interpretation
of narratives, mythical or historical, which the interpreters
found ready to hand. Let us now pass to narratives
deliberately constructed for the illustration of doctrine or
the inculeation of moral conduct. When doctrine is illus-
trated with more or less detail, such narratives are best
called Allegories; when moral conduct is inculeated, Parables
—that term being retained for little vignette-like stories
which present some bit of conduct to be carefully noticed,
imitated, or avoided.
In Plato himself we have examples of deliberate allegorical
composition in the Allegory of the “Cave” (Rep. 514 ff.), in
that of the “ Disorderly Crew” (Rep. 488 a ff.), and in that
of the “ Birdcage ” (Zheaet. 197). The “ Choice of Hercules,”
composed by Prodicus (Xen. Mem. 11. 1. 21 ff), is another
example ; the piece known as “Cebetis Tabula” is another; and
the beautiful story of “Cupid and Psyche,” told by Apuleius
(Met. iv. v. vi.),” is another. The story of Pandora also, as
1 Conv. iv. 22.
2 Mr. A. Lang, in his Introduction to William Adlington’s Translation of
the Cupid and Psyche of Apuleius (1566), shows how dependent the maker of an
allegorical story often is on Myth. The Allegory of ‘‘Cupid and Psyche” is
composed on the framework of a Myth which explains a custom—the widely
distributed custom according to which the bridegroom must, for some time after
marriage, seek the bride secretly in the dark. See also Custom and Myth,
pp. 64 ff Dr. Bigg (Neoplatonism, pp. 128-133) gives a charming epitome of
the story, with its interpretation. Referring to Mr. Lang’s folk-lore, he says
(p. 129), ‘‘ This artistic composition has very little indeed to do with Hottentots
or Zulus. It is really a very elaborate piece of allegory, metaphysics without
tears.” I agree with both Mr. Lang and Dr. Bigg.
240 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
given by Hesiod (0.D. 49 ff), has much in it which must be
ascribed to deliberate intention. The class of Parables, strictly
so called, is represented by many of the Parables of the Old
Testament and of the Gospels—by stories like “The Prodigal
Son,” as distinguished from stories like “The Sower,’ which
are really Allegories.
There are also narratives with a purpose, which, like Zhe
Pilgrim’s Progress, are at once Allegories and Parables as dis-
tinguished from Allegories. What strikes one most in these
narratives originally written to be Allegories or Parables is: How
much more effective they are than old Myths tampered with
by rationalism and converted into Allegories. These Allegories
originally written to be Allegories, indeed, present doctrine
often thinly disguised, but their makers have to exercise
creative imagination, not merely scholastic ingenuity. The
best of them are true Myths as well as Allegories, and appeal
to us, at any rate, by their ἀνθρωπολογία, if not always by
power of calling up Transcendental Feeling—a power which
properly belongs to less consciously planned products of genius.
Why is The Pilgrim’s Progress a Possession for Ever? Not
because it is an ingenious Allegory setting forth doctrine
rigorously held by its author; not because it has a good
moral tendency, like Plato’s tales for children; but because it
is a Myth—an interesting, touching, humorous, mysterious
story about people—because its persons, albeit “allegorical,”
are living men and women, sometimes, like Molicre’s or
Shakespeare’s, active in the dramatic movement of the story,
sometimes sketched as they stand, like the people in the
Characters of Theophrastus.
And I slept, and dreamed again, and saw the same two
Pilgrims going down the Mountains along the High-way towards
the City. Now a little below these Mountains, on the left hand,
lieth the Country of Conceit; from which Country there comes
into the way in which the Pilgrims walked, a little crooked Lane.
Here, therefore, they met with a very brisk Lad, that came out
of that Country. So Christian asked him From what parts he came,
and whither he was going ?
Ignor. Sir, I was born in the Country that lieth off there a
little on the left hand, and I am going to the Celestial City.
Chr. But how do you think to get in at the Gate, for you
may find some difficulty there ?
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 247
Ignor, As other good people do, said he.
Chr. But what have you to shew at that Gate, that may
cause that the Gate should be opened to you?
Ignor. I know my Lord’s will, and I have been a good liver ;
I pay every man his own; I pray, fast, pay tithes, and give alms,
and have left my Country for whither I am going,
Chr. But thou camest not in at the Wicket-Gate that is at
the head of this way; thou camest in hither through that same
crooked Lane, and therefore I fear, however thou mayest think of
thyself, when the reckoning day shall come, thou wilt hear laid to
thy charge that thou art a Thief and a Robber, instead of getting
admittance into the City.
Ignor, Gentlemen, ye be utter strangers to me, I know you
not; be content to follow the Religion of your Country, and I
will follow the Religion of mine. I hope all will be well. And
as for the Gate that you talk of, all the world knows that that
is a great way off of our Country. I cannot think that any man
in all our parts doth so much as know the way to it, nor need
they matter whether they do or no, since we have, as you see, a
fine pleasant Green Lane, that comes down from our Country the
next way into the way.
When Christian saw that the man was wise in his own Conceit,
he said to Hopeful whisperingly, There is more hopes of a fool than
of him. And said, moreover, When he that is a fool walketh by the
way, his wisdom faileth him, and he saith to everyone that he is a fool.
What, shall we talk further with him, or outgo him at present
and so leave him to think of what he hath heard already, and then
stop again for him afterwards, and see if by degrees we can do
any good of him ?
* * * * * Ἕ
So they both went on, and Ignorance he came after.
* ¥ * * ¥ *
I saw then in my Dream that Hopeful looked back and saw
Ignorance, whom they had left behind, coming after. Look, said
he to Christian, how far yonder youngster loitereth behind.
Chr. Ay, ay, I see him; he careth not for our company.
Hope. But I tro it would not have hurt him, had he kept
pace with us hitherto.
Chr. That’s true, but I warrant you he thinketh otherwise.
Hope. That I think he doth, but, however, let us tarry for
him. So they did.
Then Christian said to him, Come away man, why do you stay
so behind ?
Ignor. I take my pleasure in walking alone, even more a
great deal than in Company, unless I like it the better.
248 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Then said Christian to Hopeful (but softly), Did I not tell you
he cared not for our company? But, however, said he, come up,
and let us talk away the time in this solitary place. Then
directing his speech to Ignorance, he said, Come, how do you?
How stands it between God and your Soul now ?
Ignor. I hope well; for I am always full of good motions,
that come into my mind to comfort me as I walk.
Chr. What good motions? pray tell us.
Ignor. Why, I think of God and Heaven.
Chr. So do the Devils and damned Souls.
Ignor. But I think of them and desire them.
Chr. So do many that are never like to come there. The
Soul of the Sluggard desires, and hath nothing.
Ignor. But I think of them, and leave all for them.
Chr. That I doubt, for leaving all is an hard matter—yea, a
harder matter than many are aware of. But why, or by what,
art thou persuaded that thou hast left all for God and Heaven.
Ignor. My heart tells me so.
Chr. The wise man says, He that trusts his own heart is a fool.
Ignor. This is spoken of an evil heart, but mine is a
good one.
Chr. But how dost thou prove that ?
Ignor. It comforts me in hopes of Heaven.
Chr. That may be through its deceitfulness, for a man’s
heart may minister comfort to him in the hopes of that thing
for which he yet has no ground to hope.
Ignor. But my heart and life agree together, and therefore
my hope is well grounded.
Chr. Who told thee that thy heart and life agree together ?
Ignor. My heart tells me so.
+ + + + Χ -
Now while I was gazing upon all these things, 1 turned my
head to look back, and saw Jgnorance come up to the River-side ;
but he soon got over, and that without half that difficulty which
the other two men met with. For it happened that there was
then in that place one Vainhope, a Ferry-man, that with his Boat
helped him over ; so he, as the other I saw, did ascend the Hill to
come up to the Gate, only he came alone; neither did any man
meet him with the least encouragement. When he was come up
to the Gate, he looked up to the writing that was above, and then
began to knock, supposing that entrance should have been quickly
administered to him; but he was asked by the men that looked
over the top of the Gate, Whence came you? and what would
you have? He answered, I have eat and drank in the presence
of the King, and he has taught in our Streets. Then they asked
him for his Certificate, that they might go and shew it to the
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 249
King. So he fumbled in his bosom for one, and found none.
Then said they, Have you none? But the man answered never a
word, So they told the King, but he would not come down to
see him, but commanded the two Shining Ones that conducted
Christian and Hopeful to the City, to go out and take /gnorance,
and bind him hand and foot, and have him away. Then they
took him up, and carried him through the air to the door that I
saw in the side of the Hill, and put him in there. Then I saw
that there was a way to Hell even from the Gates of Heaven, as
well as from the City of Destruction. So I awoke, and behold it
was a Dream.
Now the day drew on that Christiana must be gone. So the
Road was full of People to see her take her Journey. But behold
all the Banks beyond the River were full of Horses and Chariots,
which were come down from above to accompany her to the City
Gate. So she came forth and entered the River, with a beckon
of Farewell to those that followed her to the River-side. The
last word she was heard to say here was, J come, Lord, to be with
thee and bless thee.
So her Children and Friends returned to their place, for that
those that waited for Christiana had carried her out of their sight.
So she went and called, and entered in at the Gate with all the
Ceremonies of Joy that her Husband Christian had done before
her.
| * * * * * ἽΡ
In process of time there came a Post to the Town again, and
his business was with Mr. Ready-to-halt. So he enquired him out,
and said to him, I am come to thee in the name of him whom
thou hast loved and followed, tho’ upon Crutches; and my
message is to tell thee that he expects thee at his Table to sup
with him in his Kingdom the next day after Laster, wherefore
prepare thyself for this Journey.
Then he also gave him a Token that he was a true Messenger,
saying, I have broken thy golden bowl, and loosed thy silver cord.
After this Mr. Ready-to-halt called for his fellow Pilgrims, and
told them, saying, Jam sent for, and God shall surely visit you
also. So he desired Mr. Valiant to make his Will. And because
he had nothing to bequeath to them that should survive him but
his Crutches and his good Wishes, therefore thus he said, These
Crutches I bequeath to my Son that shall tread in my steps, with a
hundred warm wishes that he may prove better than I have done.
Then he thanked Mr. Great-heart for his Conduct and Kind-
ness, and so addressed himself to his Journey. When he came
at the Brink of the River he said, Now J shall have no more need
of these Crutches, since yonder are Chariots and Horses for me to ride
250 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
on. The last words he was heard to say was, Welcome Life. So
he went his way.
The test, indeed, of a good Allegory is that it is also
a good Myth, or story, for those who do not understand, or
care for it, as a vehicle of doctrine. To this test the Parables
spoken by Jesus appear to have been consciously accom-
modated. He often spoke to the common people in Parables
without interpreting them. These Parables were received by
the common people as Myths; afterwards He interpreted
them as Allegories to His disciples. Many of His Parables,
indeed, as was suggested above, have πὸ interpretation.
Stories like the Parables of the Prodigal Son, of the Rich
Man who proposed to build barns, of Dives and Lazarus, of
the Good Samaritan, are not Allegories to be interpreted—
for they have no “other meaning,”’—but rather little dramas
“which reduce to a single incident what is continually
occurring in man’s experience.” ἢ
And even those Parables which are Allegories and admit
of detailed doctrinal interpretation, such as the Parable of
the Sower, have an intrinsic value apart from the doctrine
which they convey—the value of pictures in which common
things stand rejlected—stand as images, or doubles, for our
wonder, in another world, under another sky.” When one
looks at Millet’s “Sower,’* it is easy to put oneself in the
place of those who heard Parables gladly without asking for
the interpretation of them.
Let us now look at Plato’s two most elaborate “ Allegories ”
—the “ Cave,” and the “ Disorderly Crew”; and let us remind
ourselves of the features of the former* by first referring to
Republic, 532 B, Cc, where a summary of the whole is given
in one sentence :—) δέ ye, ἣν δ᾽ ἐγώ, λύσις τε ἀπὸ τῶν
δεσμῶν καὶ μεταστροφὴ ἀπὸ τῶν σκιῶν ἐπὶ τὰ εἴδωλα
καὶ τὸ φῶς καὶ ἐκ τοῦ καταγείου εἰς τὸν ἥλιον ἐπάνοδος,
καὶ ἐκεῖ πρὸς μὲν τὰ ἕῷά τε καὶ φυτὰ καὶ τὸ τοῦ ἡλίου
1 Réville, Prolégoménes de 1 Π δέ. des Religions (Engl. Transl. by Squire),
.. 7 Seo Shelley’s poem, 7'he Recollection, quoted infra, p. 395, where I attempt
to show that a charm like that belonging to reflected images, or doubles, of
natural objects—as of trees (or of Narcissus himself) in a pool—enters into the
effect produced by the word-pictures of Poetry.
° In the gallery of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.
4 Republic, 514 a ff.
THE PROTAGORAS ΜΥΤῊ 251
φῶς ἔτι ἀδυναμία βλέπειν, πρὸς δὲ τὰ ἐν ὕδασι φαντάσματα
θεῖα καὶ σκιὰς τῶν ὄντων, ἀλλ᾽ οὐκ εἰδώλων σκιὰς 60
ἑτέρου τοιούτου φωτὸς ὡς πρὸς ἥλιον κρίνειν ἀποσκιαζο-
μένας, πᾶσα αὕτη ἡ πραγματεία τῶν τεχνῶν, ἃς διήλθομεν,
ταύτην ἔχει τὴν δύναμιν καὶ ἐπανωγωγὴν τοῦ βελτίστου ἐν
ψυχῇ πρὸς τὴν τοῦ ἀρίστου ἐν τοῖς οὖσι θέαν, ὥσπερ
τότε τοῦ σαφεστάτου ἐν σώματι πρὸς τὴν τοῦ φανο-
τάτου ἐν τῷ σωματοειδεῖ τε καὶ ὁρατῷ τόπῳ..--- There
is a Cave in form of a long tunnel which, retaining
throughout the dimensions of its entrance, runs down, with
a steep decline, into the earth. Some way down, where the
daylight at last fails, a great Fire is burning, and beyond the
Fire there is a low wall built across the Cave at right angles
to its direction. Over the top of this wall showmen hold up
and move about little images of men and animals. The
shadows of these images are thrown on the rock with which
the Cave ends some way beyond.’ Facing this end-rock of the
Cave and the shadows thus thrown on it are Prisoners bound
so that they cannot turn round. These Prisoners, whose
knowledge is confined to shadows of images, represent
people who have nothing better than second-hand, hearsay
knowledge of “particular facts.” But the “ Philosopher”
comes down from the daylight into the Cave, and unbinds
some of them, and “converts” them—turns them round, so
that they see the showmen’s little images, the “ realities” of
these shadows. These converted ones represent people who
have direct, first-hand knowledge of “facts.” Some of these
the Philosopher is able to lead up the steep floor of the Cave,
past the Fire, which is the Visible Sun, and out into the
daylight, which is the light of the Intelligible Sun, the Good,
the source of existence and true knowledge. At first the
released prisoners are so dazzled by the daylight that they
cannot bear to look at the things illuminated by it—men,
animals, trees—much less at the Sun itself, but can look only
at shadows of men and animals and trees on the ground, or
reflections of them in water. These shadows and reflections,
1 In the Pitt-Rivers Museum at Oxford there isa Javanese Wayang Kulit,
used, in the Historical and Mythological Drama, for the production of shadow-
representations. The shadows of puppets (made of leather) are thrown on a
screen, the performer manipulating the puppets from behind, and working their
arms by means of sticks.
252 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
however, differ from the shadows seen on the end-rock of the
Cave, in being shadows, not of images of real things, but of
real things themselves—they represent the diagrams of
geometry, and, generally, the symbols and concepts employed
in the deductive sciences to express the principles or laws
with which the inquiry is really concerned. In time, the
eyes of the released prisoners become accustomed to the
daylight, and men, animals, trees, the moon and stars, and,
last of all, the Sun, can be looked at. We have now reached
the end of all education—the direct apprehension of the ἐδέαε,
or Principles, which severally, and as connected system, explain
particulars, just as the living man once seen “explains” the
showman’s image of him.
I have called the “Cave” an Allegory. It certainly is
an Allegory, and is offered as such together with its inter-
pretation." But when a great poetic genius like Plato builds
an Allegory, the edifice, while serving its immediate purpose
as an Allegory, transcends that purpose. Plato sees the Cave
and makes us see it, and there is much more to be seen there
than the mere purpose of the Allegory requires. Perhaps
Plato, when he was at Syracuse, saw such a gallery in the
stone quarries (there are such galleries still to be seen in the
Latomie at Syracuse) lighted up with a fire, and the miners—
it may be slaves or convicts in chains—working at the far
end with their backs to the fire, while their shadows and the
shadows of people and things behind them flitted on the
walls. Be this as it may, Plato’s Cave is a mysterious place.
We enter it wondering, and soon forget, in our wonder, that
there is “another meaning.” We acquiesce in what we see—
the prisoners among the shadows, and the Redeemer coming
down through the dimly-lighted gloom, like Orpheus,’ to lead
them up into the daylight. The vision which Plato's
1 See Couturat, de Plat. Myth. p. 51, who regards the ‘‘Cave” as an
Allegory. Schwanitz, die Mythen des Plato, p. 9, on the other hand, calls the
‘“Cave” a myth, and brings it into close comparison with the Prometheus-and-
Epimetheus Myth in the Protagoras :—‘‘ Wenn in dem vorigen Bilde (the Cave)
auf die verschiedene Erkenntniss der Menschen hingewiesen wurde, je nach dem
sie der beschriinkenden Fesseln mehr oder weniger entledigt waren, so leitet der
Mythus von Prometheus und Pandora die Wahrheit ein, dass von Gott Eins in
aller Gemiither eingepriigt ist, an Einem alle Theil nehmen, an der sittlichen
Scheu und dem Sinn fiir Gerechtigkeit, den gemeinsamen Binden wodurch
Staaten zusammengehalten werden.”
2 The book κατάβασις els “Αἰδου (see Lobeck, Aglaoph. p. 373) may have been
in Plato’s mind,
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 253
“ Allegory” calls up is such as his great Myths call up; it is
a vision which fills us with amazement, not a pictorial illus-
tration which helps us to understand something.’ Its nearest
parallel in literature is that vision which Dante on a sudden
calls up before our eyes in /nferno, iv. 46-63 -—
Dimmi, Maestro mio, dimmi, Signore,
Commincia’ io, per voler esser certo
Di quella fede che vince ogni errore ;
Uscicci mai alcuno, o per suo merto,
O per altrui, che poi fosse beato ?
E quei, che intese il mio parlar coperto,
Rispose ; Io era nuovo in questo stato,
Quando ci vidi venire un possente
Con segno di vittoria coronato.
Trasseci |’ ombra del primo parente,
D’ Abel suo figlio, e quella di Noe,
Di Moise legista ὁ ubbidiente ;
Abraam patriarcha, e David re,
Israel con lo padre, e co’ suoi nati,
E con Rachele, per cui tanto fe’,
Ed altri molti; e fecegli beati :
E vo’ che sappi che, dinanzi ad essi,
Spiriti umani non eran salvati.
The “Disorderly Crew” is also an Allegory and offered
as such; but, like the “ Cave,” it has an interest independent
of its “other meaning.” Without being, like the “Cave,” an
impressive Myth as well as an Allegory, it is still, apart from
its interpretation, a bit of highly interesting ἀνθρωπολογία.
Plato makes the crew of a Greek trading vessel live and move
before our eyes. And how like the ancient crew is to the
modern one! Let me place Plato’s sketch of the Disorderly
Crew and the brilliant description in Hothen of the “ politics ”
of the Greek brigantine caught by a sudden squall side
by side :-—
“Tmagine,” says Socrates, “ἃ shipowner bigger and stronger
than all the other men in the ship, but rather deaf, and rather
short-sighted, and with a corresponding knowledge of seamanship ;
and imagine a crew of sailors all at variance with one another
about the steering of the ship, each thinking that he himself
ought to steer, although not a man among them has ever learnt
the art of steering a ship, or can point to anybody who ever
1 This notwithstanding its close connection with the “ Divided Line,” Rep.
509 p ff.
254 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
taught him, or can mention a time during which he used to
receive instruction: imagine them even asserting that the art
cannot be taught at all, and ready to cut down anybody who says
that it can, and themselves always mobbing the shipowner, their
master, and entreating him, with every argument they can lay
hold of, to let them have the tiller; sometimes, if one faction
fails to move him, and another is more successful, the unsuccessful
killing the successful or casting them out of the ship, and taking
the fine old owner, and: drugging him, or making him drunk, or
perhaps putting him in irons, and then taking themselves the
command of the ship, and using the stores, and drinking and
feasting, and sailing the ship as such revellers are likely to sail
her; and, to put the finishing touch to our picture, imagine them
praising—describing as a ‘true seaman,’ a ‘true pilot,’ a ‘man
thoroughly qualified in navigation’—any one who is great
in the art of capturing the owner by argument or force, and
securing the command of the ship to themselves; and imagine
these men finding fault with one who cannot do this, and saying
that he is ‘of no use’—men who have no conception at all of
what the true pilot must be—that one must make a study of the
seasons, and the sky and the stars, and the winds and all things
that belong to navigation, if one is to be really fit to take com-
mand of a ship—men, I say, who have no conception whatever
of this—men who think that there is no art of how a pilot shall
steer whether some people wish him to steer or not—no art of
steering as such—to be studied and learnt. With such a state of
things as this on board, don’t you think that the truly qualified
pilot is sure to be called a ‘star-gazer,’ a ‘mere theorist,’ and ‘ of
no use to us,’ by sailors in a ship so appointed ?”
“ Yes, indeed,” said Adeimantus.
“Then,” said I, ‘I don’t think you want to have the simile
analysed, in order to understand that it figures a city in its
attitude to true Philosophers. You understand that?”
** Yes,” said he.!
I sailed (writes Kinglake)? from Smyrna in the Amphitrite,
a Greek brigantine which was confidently said to be bound for the
coast of Syria; but I knew that this announcement was not to be
relied upon with positive certainty, for the Greek mariners are
practically free from the stringency of ship’s papers, and where
they will, there they go.
* * ει * * *
* * * * * *
The crew receive no wages, but have all a share in the
venture, and in general, I believe, they are the owners of the
1 Rep. 488 a ff. 3. Eothen, ch. vi.
THE PROTAGORAS MYTH 255
whole freight; they choose a captain to whom they entrust just
power enough to keep the vessel on her course in fine weather,
but not quite enough for a gale of wind; they also elect a cook
and a mate,
yw Ἀ A * *
* * * * *
We were nearing the isle of Cyprus, when there arose half a
gale of wind, with a heavy, chopping sea. My Greek seamen
considered that the weather amounted, not to a half, but to an
integral gale of wind at the very least; so they put up the helm,
and scudded for twenty hours. When we neared the mainland of
Anadoli, the gale ceased, and a favourable breeze springing up,
soon brought us off Cyprus once more. Afterwards the wind
changed again, but we were still able to lay our course by sailing
close-hauled.
We were at length in such a position, that by holding on our
course for about half an hour, we should get under the lee of the
island, and find ourselves in smooth water, but the wind had been
gradually freshening ; it now blew hard, and there was a heavy
sea running.
As the grounds for alarm arose, the crew gathered together in
one close group; they stood pale and grim under their hooded
eapotes like monks awaiting a massacre, anxiously looking by
turns along the pathway of the storm, and then upon each other,
and then upon the eye of the Captain, who stood by the helms-
man. Presently the Hydriot came aft, more moody than ever,
the bearer of fierce remonstrance against the continuing of the
struggle; he received a resolute answer, and still we held our
course. Soon there came a heavy sea that caught the bow of the
brigantine as she lay jammed in betwixt the waves; she bowed
her head low under the waters, and shuddered through all her
timbers, then gallantly stood up again over the striving sea with
bowsprit entire. But where were the crew? It was a crew no
longer, but rather a gathering of Greek citizens,—the shout of
the seamen was changed for the murmuring of the people—the
spirit of the old Demos was alive. The men came aft in a body,
and loudly asked that the vessel should be put about, and that
the storm be no longer tempted. Now, then, for speeches :—the
Captain, his eyes flashing fire, his frame all quivering with emotion,
—wielding his every limb, like another and a louder voice,—pours
forth the eloquent torrent of his threats, and his reasons, his
commands, and his prayers; he promises—he vows—he swears
that there is safety in holding on—safety, if Greeks will be brave /
The men hear and are moved, but the gale rouses itself once more,
and again the raging sea comes trampling over the timbers that
are the life of all. The fierce Hydriot advances one step nearer
256 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
to the Captain, and the angry growl of the people goes floating
down the wind; but they listen, they waver once more, and once
more resolve, then waver again, thus doubtfully hanging between
the terrors of the storm and the persuasion of glorious speech, as
though it were the Athenian that talked, and Philip of Macedon
that thundered on the weather bow.
Brave thoughts winged on Grecian words gained their natural
mastery over terror; the brigantine held on her course, and
smooth water was reached at last.
Let me close these remarks on the relationship between
“Myth” and “Allegory” with a reference to “ Ritual,” in
which the characteristics of both seem to be united. A
“ritual performance” or “rite” is made up of “symbols.”?
A symbol is a thing, or an act, taken to represent something
else. That something else—generally something of great
importance—may be a transaction (such as a sale of land,
symbolised in the Roman law by the act of transferring a
clod of earth), or a belief (such as the doctrine of baptismal
regeneration, symbolised by sprinkling with water), or a
concept (such as that of justice, symbolised by a figure
holding an even balance), or a nation (symbolised by its flag).
In most cases the symbol has some analogical resemblance,
close or remote, to that which it represents; in some cases it
is a badge which has for some other reason become attached.
The habit of symbolic representation is one of the most
primitive and persistent tendencies of human nature. It was
present in the first efforts of language, and the highest flights
of science are still entirely dependent on the development of
it; while without the development of it in another direc-
tion there could have been no poetry—the primrose would
always have been but the yellow primrose; and even no
courtesy of manners—everybody would always have called a
spade a spade.
Now, a ritual performance, or rite, is a composition made
up of symbols so put together as to produce solemn feeling in
those who celebrate and assist. This effect produced is a
massive experience of the whole, and may be, indeed ordi-
narily is, received without conscious attention to the signifi-
cance of the separate parts—the symbols which together
1 See Réville, Prolégomeénces de I’ Hist, des Religions, p. 125 (Eng. Translation
by Squire).
ΤῊΝ PROTAGORAS MYTH 257
make the whole rite. The rite, if effectually received, is
received devoutly as a Myth, not critically apprehended as an
Allegory. In its origin and composition it is an Allegory—
a mosaic of symbols; but as time goes on this is largely lost
sight of; the corporate genius of the religious society to which
it belongs transforms it for the devout into a Myth. Plato
compares that enthusiastic Philosophy, of which Myth is
the vehicle, to the Mysteries! The devout went to Eleusis,
not to get doctrine out of allegorical representations, but to
have their souls purified by the awe of the “ Blessed Sights ”
presented in the acted Myth.
The procession in Purgatorio, xxix., like Ezekiel’s visions,
to which it is indebted, is an elaborately ordered series of
symbolical creatures and objects; in the fresco on the left
wall of the Spanish Chapel of 8. Maria Novella in Florence,
every figure, either in itself, or in the position which it
occupies in the group, is a symbol. It is true, of course, that
to appreciate the beauty of either composition fully one must
have at least a general acquaintance with the meaning of the
symbols employed; yet finally it is as a great spectacle that
the procession of the twenty-ninth Canto of the Purgatorio or
the fresco in the Spanish Chapel appeals to one. Indeed, it is
because it so appeals that one is anxious to spell out the
symbolical meaning of its separate parts, so that, having spelt
this patiently out, one may find one’s self all the more under
the enchantment of the whole which transcends the sum of
its parts so wondrously.”
Similarly, to take a third instance, it is because the Story,
in the Second Book of the Fairy Queen, of the Adventures at
the Castle of Medina, is very readable as a story, and contains
beautiful passages of poetry, that we are pleasurably interested
in following its elaborate translation of the dry Aristotelian
doctrine of “ Mean and Extremes” into pictures.
I would add that the effect produced by ἃ great
professedly allegorical composition like the procession in
Purgatorio, xxix., or the Spanish Chapel fresco, is sometimes
produced by a poem—sometimes even by a single line or
stanza of poaty τοῊΣ which the poet’s art, instead of definitely
1 See supra, p. 236
? The symbolism of the fresco alluded to above is dealt with by Ruskin in
his Mornings in Florence, iv. and v.
5
258 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
presenting, distantly suggests a system of symbols. A symbol
or system of symbols definitely presented is often enough a
mysterious thing; but a symbol or system of symbols distantly
suggested “teases us out of thought,” and arouses in no ordi-
nary degree that wonder, at we know not what, which enters
into the effect produced by Poetry as such.
I do not think that a better example of what may be called
suppressed symbolism, and of its wonderful poetical effect, could
be found than that afforded by Dante’s canzone beginning—
Tre donne intorno al cor mi son venute 1—
a poem on which Coleridge’s record of its effect upon himself
is the best commentary. He begins” by describing it as “a
poem of wild and interesting images, intended as an enigma,
and to me an enigma it remains, spite of all my efforts.”
Then, in an entry dated Ramsgate, Sept. 2, 1819, he writes:
“T begin to understand the above poem (Tre donne intorno al
cuor mi son venute, etc.), after an interval from 1805, during
which no year passed in which I[ did not re-peruse, I might
say, construe, parse, and spell it, twelve times at least—such
a fascination had it, spite of its obscurity! It affords a good
instance, by the bye, of that soul of universal significance in a
true poet’s composition, in addition to the specific meaning.”
1 Canzone xx. p. 170, Oxford Dante.
2 Anima Poetae, from the unpublished notebooks of 8. Τί, Coleridge, edited
by E. H. Coleridge, 1895, p. 293.
ΤῊΝ TIMAELUS
CONTEXT
ΤῊΝ subject of the Timaeus is the Creation of the Universe
(soul and body) and of Man (soul and body). The speaker vn
whose mouth the whole Discourse, or Myth, treating of this
subject is put is Timaeus, the great Pythagorean Philosopher of
Loeri. in Italy.
The Discourse, or Myth, is part of the general scheme which
is worked out in the Trilogy consisting of the Republic, Timaeus,
and Critias.
The assumed chronological order of the pieces is Republic,
Timaeus, Critias: Le. the Conversation at the house of Cephalus
is repeated next day by Socrates to Timaeus, Critias, Hermocrates,
and another—this is the Republic; the day after that again,
Socrates, Timaeus, Critias, and Hermocrates meet, and the Con-
versation and Discourse which constitute the Timaeus ave held,
followed by the Myth related by Critias in the unfinished piece
which bears his name. Thus we have first an account of Man’s
education ; then an account of hiscreation ; and lastly the story
of the Great War for which his education fits him.
But, of course, the logical order is Timaeus, Republic,
Critias :—God, because he is good, makes, in his own image,
the Universe of which Man is part—-not, however, a mere part,
but a part which, after a fashion, is equivalent to the whole, in
so far as it adequately represents the whole—a microcosm in
the macrocosm. Man, as microcosm, is an image of God as
adequate as the great Cosmos itself is; and, like God whose
wmage he 18, 18. a creator—makes in turn a Cosmos, the State.
We have thus the analogy:—God : Cosmos :: Man : State.
Upon God’s creation of the Cosmos, in the Timaeus, there
follows, in order, Man’s creation of the State, in the Republic ;
while the Critias comes last with the representation of the State
performing the work for which it was created.
259
260 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Timaeus 29 p-92 ὁ
29D Λέγωμεν δή, δι ἥντινα αἰτίαν γένεσιν καὶ τὸ πᾶν τόδε
Ε ὁ ξυνιστὰς ξυνέστησεν. ἀγαθὸς ἣν, ἀγαθῷ δὲ οὐδεὶς περὶ
8 \ > / » / / / , » Ν ΕΥ
οὐδενὸς οὐδέποτε ἐγγίγνεται φθόνος: τούτου δ᾽ ἐκτὸς ὧν
πάντα ὅ τι μάλιστα γενέσθαι ἐβουλήθη παραπλήσια ἑαυτῷ.
* * * * ὃς *
΄ \ -
80 βουληθεὶς γὰρ ὁ θεὸς ἀγαθὰ μὲν πάντα, φλαῦρον δὲ
Ν s \ / e \ A “ 9 ς U
μηδὲν εἶναι κατὰ δύναμιν, οὕτω δὴ πᾶν, ὅσον ἦν ὁρατόν,
/ / lal
παραλαβὼν οὐχ ἡσυχίαν ἄγον, ἀλλὰ κινούμενον πλημμελῶς
\ > / > 4 > \ vv ᾽ A > ’
καὶ ἀτάκτως, εἰς τάξιν αὐτὸ ἤγαγεν ἐκ τῆς ἀταξίας,
᾿ 7 Ε] “ / / ” / \ yw?
ἡγησάμενος ἐκεῖνο τούτου πάντως ἄμεινον. θέμις δὲ οὔτ
, Lal / lal
ἣν οὔτ᾽ ἔστι τῷ ἀρίστῳ δρᾶν ἄλλο πλὴν τὸ κάλλιστον.
/ s ef b] a \ / e na »O\
B λογισάμενος οὖν εὕρισκεν ἐκ τῶν κατὰ φύσιν ὁρατῶν οὐδὲν
> / ΄ an » ef er / » 7
ἀνόητον τοῦ νοῦν ἔχοντος ὅλον ὅλου κάλλιον ἔσεσθαί ποτε
v n » ς \ a 5 / /
ἔργον, νοῦν δ᾽ αὖ χωρὶς ψυχῆς ἀδύνατον παραγενέσθαι τῳ.
\ \ \ / = \ ~
διὰ δὴ τὸν λογισμὸν τόνδε νοῦν μὲν ἐν ψυχῇ, ψυχὴν δὲ ἐν
, \ \ ~ , " -“ /
σώματι ξυνιστὰς τὸ πᾶν ξυνετεκταίνετο, ὅπως 6 TL κάλλιστον
» \ / Μ » ᾽ / ef s
ein κατὰ φύσιν ἄριστον τε ἔργον ἀπειργασμένος. οὕτως οὖν
, ΄ - / ’ ,
δὴ κατὰ λόγον τὸν εἰκότα δεῖ λέγειν τόνδε τὸν κόσμον
A “ \ “ “~
ζῶον ἔμψυχον ἔννουν τε τῇ ἀληθείᾳ διὰ τὴν τοῦ θεοῦ
/ / / ᾽ e , - /
C γενέσθαι πρόνοιαν. Τούτου δ᾽ ὑπάρχοντος αὖ τὰ τούτοις
᾽ ca Ae / / a , | ee J « / e
ἐφεξῆς ἡμῖν λεκτέον, τίνι τῶν ζώων αὐτὸν εἰς ὁμοιότητα ὁ
\ / A \ 9 bd , ν ,
ξυνιστὰς ξυνέστησε. τῶν μὲν οὖν ἐν μέρους εἴδει πεφυκό-
‘ , ’ - ‘ ; ‘ γα] ᾽
των μηδενὶ καταξιώσωμεν: ἀτελεῖ γὰρ ἐοικὸς οὐδέν ποτ
, - 9 U - ω θ. ἃ
ἂν γένοιτο καλόν: οὗ ὃ ἔστι τἄλλα ζῶα καθ᾽ ev καὶ κατὰ
, ͵ ε , \ - A
γένη μόρια, τούτῳ πάντων ὁμοιότατον αὐτὸν εἶναι τιθῶμεν.
“~ / an “ \
τὰ yap δὴ νοητὰ ζῶα πάντα ἐκεῖνο ἐν ἑαυτῴ περιλαβὸν
v , e / ¢ al μ ud
ἔχει, καθάπερ ὅδε ὁ κόσμος ἡμᾶς ὅσα τε ἄλλα θρέμματα
D / ‘ , a \ - , rrL \
ξυνέστηκεν ὁρατά. Tw yap τῶν νοουμένων καλλίστῳ καὶ
ΤῊΝ TIMAEUS 261
TRANSLATION
Let the cause of the creation of this Universe be declared,
to wit, that the Maker thereof was Good; with the Good there
is no grudging of aught at any time: wherefore, being altogether
without grudging, God wished all things to be made as like
unto Himself as might be.
a % ΕΣ , + .
Now God, wishing that all things should be good so far
as might be, and nothing evil, having received all that was
Visible into His hands, and perceiving that it was not at rest
but moved without measure and without order, took and
brought it out of that disorder into order, thinking that this
state was altogether better than that. For He Who is Best
might not then—nor may He now—do aught save that which
is most excellent. Wherefore He took thought and found out
that, amongst those things which are by nature Visible, no
work which is without Reason would ever, in the comparison,
be fairer than that which hath Reason; and again, that
Reason could not, without Soul, come and abide with any-
thing. For this cause He put Reason in the Soul, and Soul
in Body, when he fashioned the Universe; to the end that the
creature of his workmanship might be the fairest by nature
and the most excellent.
Our discourse, then, following alway the way of likelihood,
hath brought us thus far—that this Universe is a Living
Creature, which hath in truth gotten Soul and Reason through
the Providence of God.
Next must we tell in the likeness of what Living Creature
the Maker made it. Unto none of those creatures which are
by nature Parts of the Whole let us compare it; for naught
fair could ever come forth in the likeness of that which is
imperfect ; but unto That whereof the living creatures, severally
and according to their kinds, are parts must we deem it most
like. Now That containeth in itself all Intelligible Creatures,
even as this Universe containeth us and all his other nurslings
which were created to be Visible: for unto That which is the
31
Β
328
σ
33
262 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
\ / , / » Ν e \ € an
κατὰ πάντα τελέῳ μάλιστα αὐτὸν ὁ θεὸς ὁμοιῶσαι βουλη-
\ a ἃ « / , »“᾿᾽΄ο΄Ὃτᾳ.ν > a \ , a
θεὶς ζῶον ἕν ὁρατὸν, πάνθ ὅσα αὐτοῦ κατὰ φύσιν Evyyevi
a 2 \ 4 ¢ a / , . > a Ψ
ζῶα ἐντὸς ἔχον ἑαυτοῦ, ξυνέστησε. Πότερον οὖν ὀρθῶς ἕνα
> \ 7, ἃ \ Ν b) / / φ
ovpavov προσειρήκαμεν, ἢ πολλοὺς καὶ ἀπείρους λέγειν ἣν
5 θό Ἂ “ Wy \ Ἀ (ὃ ὃ ὃ ,
ορθότερον ; ἕνα, εἴπερ κατὰ τὸ παράδειγμα δεδημιουργημένος
” \ \ , , ε΄ Νὰ \ a ’
ἔσται. τὸ γὰρ περιέχον πάντα ὁπόσα νοητὰ ζῶα, μεθ
Φ ἐν / > ” +; #7 / \ a ¢ s
ἑτέρου δεύτερον οὐκ ἄν ποτ᾽ εἴη" πάλιν yap ἂν ἕτερον εἶναι
Ἁ \ 2 / / A a / x ΝΜ > \
TO περὶ ἐκείνω δέοι ζῶον, οὗ μέρος ἂν εἴτην ἐκείνω, καὶ
» ΕΝ Μ > / > > > / a / ΓΦ» x
οὐκ ἂν €TL EKELVOLY, αλλ ἐκείνῳ TO περιέχοντι, τόδ᾽ ἂν
, ¢ / \
ἀφωμοιωμένον λέγοιτο ὀρθότερον. iva οὖν τόδε κατὰ τὴν
, " Ss “~ a , \ -“ Ε /
μόνωσιν ὅμοιον ἢ Tw παντελεῖ Cow, διὰ ταῦτα οὔτε δύο
" 5 > / 9 / e ΄“ , ΕῚ > ᾽ o
OUT ἀπείρους ἐποίησεν ὁ ποιῶν κόσμους, GAA εἷς ὅδε
\ >) Ν \ ” \ yw 9 »
μονογενὴς οὐρανὸς γεγονὼς ἔστι τε καὶ ἔτ᾽ ἔσται.
**k * ἐκ ΕἸ *
\ \ lal Μ \ /, \ / 4 \
καὶ διὰ ταῦτα ἔκ τε δὴ τούτων Kal τοιούτων Kal τὸν
5) \ / \ lal / a > / 3
ἀριθμὸν τεττάρων τὸ τοῦ κόσμου σῶμα ἐγεννήθη δι
> / e ΄ / 4 3 / “ >
ἀναλογίας ὁμολογῆσαν, φιλίαν τε ἔσχεν ἐκ τούτων, WOT
, a“ / / \
εἰς ταὐτὸν αὑτῷ ξυνελθὸν ἄλυτον ὑπό Tov ἄλλου πλὴν ὑπὸ
“ »“" \ ‘ a Ὁ
τοῦ ξυνδήσαντος γενέσθαι. Τῶν δὲ δὴ τεττάρων ἕν ὅλον
“ » [ al / / ? \ Ν
ἕκαστον εἴληφεν ἡ τοῦ κόσμου ξύστασις' ἐκ γὰρ πυρὸς
Ν “ 4 \ ./ \ fol / > ἡ e
παντὸς ὕδατός Te Kal ἀέρος καὶ γῆς ξυνέστησεν αὐτὸν ὁ
ξυνιστάς, μέρος οὐδὲν οὐδενὸς οὐδὲ δύναμιν ἔξωθεν ὑπολι-
, / / a \ “ ° Lcd /
πών, τάδε διανοηθείς, πρῶτον μὲν ἵνα ὅλον 6 TL μάλιστα
a , b / ‘al a ν Ν \ , Ψ
ζῶον τέλεον ἐκ τελέων τῶν μερῶν εἴη, πρὸς δὲ τούτοις ἕν,
“ ᾿ a / ᾽ Μ
ἅτε οὐχ ὑπολελειμμένων ἐξ ὧν ἄλλο τοιοῦτο γένοιτ᾽ ἄν,
Μ ἄχ, , / \ ΝΜ “ A ¢ / /
ἔτι δὲ ἵνα ἀγήρων Kal ἄνοσον ἢ, κατανοῶν, ὡς ξυνιστάμενά
1
, 4 \ \ ‘ 7 ᾽ “ /
TW σωματι θερμὰ και ψυχρὰ καὶ πάνθ, ὅσα δυνάμεις
' For ξυνιστάμενά τῳ read ξυστατῴῷ.
ΤῊΝ 7T/MAEUS 263
fairest of Things Intelligible and altogether perfect did God
wish to liken it; wherefore made He it a Living Creature,
One, Visible, having in itself all the Living Creatures which
are by nature kin unto it.
Have we rightly called the Heaven One? Or were it
more right to say that there are Heavens many—nay, infinite
in number ?
One Visible Heaven there must be, if it is to be fashioned
according to the pattern of That which, inasmuch as it con-
taineth all Intelligible Creatures which are, could never be a
second with another; for if it were a second with another,
then must there be anotber Creature including these two,
whereof they would be parts; and it would no longer be right
to say that this Visible Universe was made after their likeness,
but rather after the likeness of That which included them.
Wherefore that this Universe might be One only, like unto
the One only, All-perfect, Living Creature, the Maker made
neither two Universes nor Universes infinite in number, but
this One Only Begotten Heaven which was made, and is, and
ever shall be.
For this cause, and out of these elements, being of such
sort and four in number, was the Body of the Universe
brought forth at one with itself through the proportional dis-
position of elements. Whence also it got Love, so that it
was knit together with bonds which cannot be loosed, save by
Him Who did bind.
Now, the making of the Universe took up the whole of
each of the four elements: for the Maker of the Universe
made it of all the fire that was, and all the water, and all the
air, and all the earth, and left not any part or virtue of any
of these without; to the end, first, that it might be a Living
Creature, Whole, so far as might be, and Perfect, with the parts
thereof perfect; and secondly, that it might be One Only,
since naught was left over of which another like unto this
could be made; and thirdly, that it might be without old
age or disease; for He knew that if things hot and cold,
and all such as have strong powers, encompass the composite
33 B
34
264 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
» \ » “-- , /
ἰσχυρᾶς ἔχει, περιϊστάμενα ἔξωθεν, Kai προσπίπτοντα
, , / \ / -" / ’ / / Lal
ἀκαίρως, λύει καὶ νόσους γῆράς τε ἐπάγοντα φθίνειν ποιεῖ.
* * Σ΄ * * *
τ - δὲ "ὃ > 7 \ , \ \ ,
Σχῆμα ὃε ἔδωκεν αὐτῷ TO πρέπον καὶ TO EuvryyevEs.
“~ \ \ / ᾽ a cal
τῷ δὲ Ta πάντ᾽ ἐν αὑτῷ ζῶα περιέχειν μέλλοντι Sow
‘ t ©
Ld bal wv lal \ \ ᾽ ς A /
πρέπον av εἴη σχῆμα τὸ περιειληφὸς ἐν αὑτῷ πάντα,
° / / \ \ / ? / /
oToca σχήματα. διὸ καὶ σφαιροειδές, ἐκ μέσου πάντῃ
Ν \ \ 4 ᾽ / \ ,’ \ ’ /
πρὸς Tas τελευτᾶς ἴσον ἀπέχον, κυκλοτερὲς AUTO ἐτορνεύ-
7 , e ’ ’ 4 a
σατο, πάντων τελεώτατον ὁμοιότατον TE αὐτὸ ἑαυτῷ
/ / / “ Ε] / “
σχημάτων, νομίσας μυρίῳ κάλλιον ὅμοιον ἀνομοίου. Δεῖον
\ \ 7 An 7 ᾽ \ ᾽ rn An
δὲ δὴ κύκλῳ πᾶν ἔξωθεν αὐτὸ ἀπηκριβοῦτο, πολλῶν χάριν.
Ὺ ,ὕ Ν ᾿ cal > / e \ \ ’ \ e /
ὀμμάτων Te yap ἐπεδεῖτο οὐδέν, ὁρατὸν γὰρ οὐδὲν ὑπελεί-
4 θ »Ὸ» ᾽ a +O \ \ ’ , lal /
πετὸ ἔξωθεν: οὐδ᾽ ἀκοῆς, οὐδὲ γὰρ ἀκουστόν: πνεῦμά τε
᾽ > \ , > ΝΥ >>> a \ > \
οὐκ ἣν περιεστὸς δεόμενον ἀναπνοῆς. οὐδ᾽ αὖ τινὸς ἐπιδεὲς
9 ᾽ 7 - ? \ \ > e \ \ / \
ἣν ὀργάνου σχεῖν, ᾧ τὴν μὲν εἰς ἑαυτὸ τροφὴν δέξοιτο, τὴν
‘ , ; , ᾽ / , > “ \
δὲ πρότερον ἐξικμασμένην ἀποπέμψοι πάλιν: ἀπήει τε γὰρ
οὐδὲν οὐδὲ ; ὑτῷ θέν: οὐδὲ γὰρ ἣ ITO Ya
ὐ € προσῃειν αὐτῷ ποθέν: οὐδὲ yap ἣν. αὐτὸ γὰρ
΄ a \ \ ΄ ~ / / \ / ’
ἑαυτῷ τροφὴν τὴν ἑαυτοῦ φθίσιν παρέχον Kal πάντα ἐν
Ls a \ ΄ ’ e r , \ a ’ / /
ἑαυτῷ καὶ Up ἑαυτοῦ πάσχον καὶ δρῶν ἐκ τέχνης γέγονεν"
΄ / \ δ eae e \ ” a » »
ἡγήσατο γὰρ αὐτὸ ὁ ξυνθεὶς αὔταρκες ὃν ἄμεινον ἔσεσθαι
A * \ lal “
μᾶλλον ἢ προσδεὲς ἄλλων. χειρῶν δέ, αἷς οὔτε λαβεῖν
» > ᾽ , , 8 , > v a
οὔτε αὖ Twa ἀμύνασθαι χρεία τις HY, μάτην οὐκ weTo δεῖν
, fn / > \ “- ᾽ Ν Ὁ A \ \
αὐτῷ προσάπτειν, οὐδὲ ποδῶν οὐδὲ ὅλως τῆς περὶ τὴν
, ΄ , , \ ’ , ᾽ A \ a
βάσιν ὑπηρεσίας. κίνησιν yap ἀπένειμεν αὐτῷ τὴν τοῦ
, / A \ \ Ἁ 7 ’
σώματος οἰκείαν, τῶν ἑπτὰ τὴν περὶ νοῦν καὶ φρόνησιν
, a \ \ \ ᾽ \ ᾽ “ ᾿ - \ ᾽
μάλιστα οὖσαν. διὸ δὴ κατὰ ταὐτὰ ἐν τῷ αὐτῷ καὶ ἐν
᾽ - 4 > 4 , , , ~ /
ἑαυτῷ περιαγαγὼν αὐτὸ ἐποίησε κύκλῳ κινεῖσθαι στρεφό-
᾿ , / » \ ᾽ \
μενον, tas δὲ ἕξ ἁπάσας κινήσεις ἀφεῖλε Kal ἀπλανὲς
᾽ , ᾽ , διὰ ‘ ‘ ᾿ “,»ν
ἀπειργάσατο ἐκείνων. ἐπὶ δὲ τὴν περιοδον ταύτην ἅτ
γὼν - ᾿ ᾽ ‘ ‘ v 9 \ δ.
οὐδὲν ποδῶν δέον ἀσκελὲς καὶ ἄπουν αὐτὸ ἐγέννησεν.
Οὗτος δὴ πᾶς ὄντος ἀεὶ λογισμὸς θεοῦ περὶ τὸν ποτὲ
THE 7T/MAEUS 265
body from without, and strike against it unseasonably, they
dissolve it and bring disease and old age upon it, and so
cause it to decay.
* » * * * >
That shape likewise gave He unto it which is fit and
proper. Inasmuch, then, as that shape which comprehendeth
in itself all the shapes is fit for the Living Creature which
should contain in itself all Living Creatures, for this cause did
He turn it to be like a ball, round, with boundary at every
point equally distant from centre. Thus gave He unto it that
which of all shapes is the most perfect, and most like unto
itself, deeming that which is like unto itself fairer by far than
that which is unlike. Moreover, without He made it perfectly
smooth all round, for reasons many :—eyes it needed not,
because nothing visible was left remaining without; nor ears,
because there was nothing without audible; nor was there air
round about it that it should breathe; nor did it need to have
any organ for the taking in of food, or for the putting out of
that wherefrom the juices were already expressed ; for nothing
went forth, and nothing came unto it from anywhere ;_ for
without there was nothing. Yea, it was fashioned cunningly
that it should afford nourishment unto itself, through the
wasting of itself, and should receive and do all within itself
and through itself; for He Who made it thought that if it
were sufficient unto itself, it would be better than if it had
need of other things added unto it. Wherefore, inasmuch as
it needeth not hands for taking hold of aught or withstanding
any adversary, He deemed it not meet to give unto it hands to
no purpose, nor feet, nor any instrument of walking; for the
motion that He allotted unto it was the motion proper unto
such a body, to wit, that one of the Seven Motions which
appertaineth most unto Reason and Understanding. Where-
fore He turned it round and round, with the same quickness, in
the same place, about itself; but the other motions, all save
circular motion, He took away from it, and stablished it with-
out their wanderings. Inasmuch, then, as for this revolution
there was no need of feet, He created it without legs and
feet.
Thus did God, Who is alway, reason with Himself concern-
266 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Β ἐσόμενον θεὸν λογισθεὶς λεῖον καὶ ὁμαλὸν πανταχῆ τε ἐκ
/ »ν \ lad \ / , / / lol
μέσου ἴσον καὶ OAOV καὶ τέλεον EK τελέων σωμάτων σῶμα
> ΄ Ν \ > Ν , » fal ‘ \ /
ἐποίησε. Ψυχὴν δὲ εἰς TO μέσον αὐτοῦ θεὶς διὰ παντός τε
Ψ \ v Mv \ ‘al ᾽ lal / /
ἔτεινε καὶ ἔτι ἔξωθεν τὸ σῶμα αὐτῇ περιεκάλυψε ταύτῃ,
Ν , \ , / b \ “ , »
καὶ κύκλῳ δὴ κύκλον στρεφόμενον οὐρανὸν ἕνα μόνον ἔρημον
“ 3 > \ \ fu Ν ς΄ A / /
κατέστησε, Ov ἀρετὴν δὲ αὐτὸν αὑτῷ δυνάμενον Evyyi-
\ » Ν . / , / Ν Ν
γνεσθαι καὶ οὐδενὸς ἑτέρου προσδεόμενον, γνώριμον δὲ καὶ
, φ΄ na wey - A \ / \ a > ,ὔ
φίλον ἱκανῶς αὐτὸν αὑτῷ. διὰ πάντα δὴ ταῦτα εὐδαίμονα
Ν \ \ lal
θεὸν αὐτὸν ἐγεννήσατο. Τὴν δὲ δὴ ψυχὴν οὐχ ὡς νῦν
¢ ΄ » a , e/ ? / δι ‘
C ὑστέραν ἐπιχειροῦμεν λέγειν, οὕτως ἐμηχανήσατο Kal ὁ θεὸς
/ » Ν Xx Μ ¥ - \ /
νεωτέραν" ov yap av ἄρχεσθαι πρεσβύτερον ὑπὸ νεωτέρου
/ ”
EvvepEas εἴασεν"
** * * * k *
\ s , \ 39 3 /
ψυχὴν σώματος, ws δεσπότιν καὶ ἄρξουσαν ἀρξομένου,
/ > - \ a , rn > U
36 ξυνεστήσατο ἐκ τῶνδέ Te Kal τοιῷδε τρόπῳ. τῆς ἀμερίστου
ψ PN \ - κ > , ΒΨ, \ A s \ \
καὶ ἀεὶ κατὰ ταὐτὰ ἐχούσης οὐσίας καὶ τῆς av περὶ τὰ
, , r / b] > a ᾽ /
σώματα γιγνομένης μεριστῆς τρίτον ἐξ ἀμφοῖν ἐν μέσῳ
, > , s > A / - / 1
ξυνεκεράσατο οὐσίας εἶδος, τῆς τε ταὐτοῦ φύσεως αὖ πέρι
Ἁ - /
καὶ τῆς θατέρου.
* * * * * ὃς
4 / \ ᾽ Ν " / 5» ’ ,
καὶ τρία λαβὼν αὐτὰ ὄντα συνεκεράσατο εἰς μίαν πάντα
᾽ , \ , / / Ss » » \
ἰδέαν, τὴν θατέρου φύσιν δύσμικτον οὖσαν εἰς ταὐτὸν
, 7 \ \ \ fe > , \ > Le!
B Evvappottwy Bia. μιγνὺς δὲ μετὰ τῆς οὐσίας Kal ἐκ τριῶν
ποιησάμενος ἕν πάλιν ὅλον τοῦτο μοίρας ὅσας προσῆκε
/ ΄ 7 \ Μ ᾽ fa \ / \ r
διένειμεν, ἑκάστην δὲ ἔκ τε ταὐτοῦ καὶ θατέρου καὶ τῆς
οὐσίας μεμιγμένην.
Ἃ * * * * *
1 αὖ πέρι om.
THE 7/MARUS 267
ing the god who should be, and made him to be smooth, and
even, with boundary at every point at equal distance from
the centre-—a Body whole and perfect, composite of bodies
perfect.
And in the midst thereof He put Soul, and spread it
throughout the whole, and also wrapped the Body round
about on the outside therewith; and made the Universe a
revolving sphere, one only, and solitary, but, by reason of the
virtue which belonged unto it, able to consort with itself,
having need of no other, being itself acquaintance and friend
unto itself in full measure. A god, then, in regard of all
these things blessed, begat He it.
But, albeit Soul cometh second in our discourse, yet was
she not created by God younger than Body ; for of these twain
which He joined together He would not have suffered the elder
to be governed by the younger.
* * * Ἃ Ἃ +
The mistress and ruler of the Body did God fashion Soul,
out of these elements, after this manner: betwixt that Sub-
stance which is undivided and alway the same, and that which
cometh into being and is divided in bodies, He made, by the
mixing of them both, a third sort of Substance in the middle
betwixt the Same and the Other.
* μὴ ἮΝ * ΩΣ +
These Substances, being three, He took and mixed all
together, so that they became one Form; and the Nature of
the Other, which was hard to mix, He joined by force unto
the Same, and these He mingled with the Third Substance ;
and of the three made one: then again divided this whole
mass into as many parts as was meet, whereof each one was
compounded of the Same and the Other and the Third
Substance.!
[35 B-36 D—These parts, all standing in specified
numerical ratios to one another, are cut off in specified order,
until the whole soul-mass is used up. They are pieced
together in the order in which they are cut off, and make a
soul-strip, as it were, which is then divided lengthwise into
two equal bands, which are laid across each other like the
1 “<The Third Substance” is ‘‘the Unity of Appereception ”— ‘‘ Self-Con-
sciousness, ”
268 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
, ‘ 7 a a ‘ A
36 D Ἐπεὶ δὲ κατὰ νοῦν τῷ ξυνιστάντι πᾶσα ἡ τῆς ψυχῆς
/ ? / \ ω er \ \ ᾽ \
E ξύστασις ἐγεγένητο, μετὰ τοῦτο πᾶν TO σωματοειδὲς ἐντὸς
» ~ > / \ / / \ /
αὐτῆς ἐτεκταίνετο Kal μέσον μέσῃ ξυναγαγὼν προσήρμοττεν.
e ᾽ ᾽ / \ \ ” ᾽ \ /
ἡ δ᾽ ἐκ μέσου πρὸς Tov ἔσχατον οὐρανὸν πάντῃ διαπλα-
an / A
κεῖσα κύκλῳ τε αὐτὸν ἔξωθεν περικαλύψασα αὐτὴ ἐν αὑτῇ
, , ) \ Μ ) 4 \ ΝΜ
στρεφομένη θείαν ἀρχὴν ἤρξατο ἀπαύστου καὶ ἔμφρονος
/ \ \ / / | \ A \ -“
βίον πρὸς τὸν ξύμπαντα χρόνον. καὶ τὸ μὲν δὴ σῶμα
e \ > lal / > \ \ oJ / a \
ορατὸν οὐρανοῦ γέγονεν, αὐτὴ δὲ ἀόρατος μέν, λογισμοῦ δὲ
/ \ e , \ A lal ᾽ , v
81 μετέχουσα καὶ ἁρμονίας ψυχὴ τῶν νοητῶν ἀεί τε ὄντων,
e \ A ᾽ , ᾽ / / A / Ὁ
ὑπο τοῦ ἀρίστου ἀρίστη γενομένη τῶν γεννηθέντων. ἅτε
9 ᾽ “" ᾽ a \ an / / ” ᾽ /
οὖν ἐκ τῆς ταὐτοῦ καὶ τῆς θατέρου φύσεως ἔκ TE οὐσίας
A a“ ω ‘ / a
τριῶν τούτων συγκραθεῖσα μοιρῶν, Kal ava λόγον μερισθεῖσα
\ al ᾽ / ᾽ / Ν e / -“
καὶ ξυνδεθεῖσα, αὐτή τε ἀνακυκλουμένη πρὸς αὑτήν, ὅταν
> / \ » , ᾽ / \ -“΄
οὐσίαν σκεδαστὴν ἔχοντος τινος ἐφάπτηται καὶ ὅταν
᾽ ’ / / \ / ον aA “ , Μ
ἀμέριστον, λέγει κινουμένη διὰ πάσης ἑαυτῆς, ὅτῳ T ἄν τι
\ “ bal
\ ᾿ oa
ταὐτὸν ἢ Kal ὅτου ἂν ἕτερον.
ΤῊΝ 7T/MAEUS 269
two strokes of the letter X, the point at which they cross
being the middle of each, Kach of these crossed bands is
then bent (say, up) into a hoop, so that its ends and the ends
of the other band meet at the point, in the two circumfer-
ences thus formed, which is opposite that at which the bands
cross each other. “ Thus,’ as Mr. Archer-Hind says,’ “we
have two circles bisecting each other, and, as the shape of X
implies, inclined at an acute angle.” One of these hoops,
called the outer, is the Circle of the Same, the inner is the
Circle of the Other. The former revolves from left to right
(from east to west), the latter from right to left. The Circle
of the Same remains one and undivided, but the Circle of the
Other is subdivided into seven concentric circles—those of the
seven planets—each with its own proper motion.*]
Now, when the making of the Soul had been fully aeccom-
plished according to the good pleasure of her Maker, then did
He fashion within her all that is corporeal, and draw these two,
Soul and Corporeal Body, together, and join them middle to
middle, and the Soul was inwoven everywhere from the
middle of the Heaven even unto the borders thereof, and
spread round the Heaven without, for a covering, and, turning
round within herself, made beginning of her divine life of
Reason, which continueth without end for evermore.
The Body of the Heaven was created visible; but she, to
wit, the Soul, invisible, and a partaker of Reason and Harmony ;
being the most excellent of the things created, for that she
was created by Him Who of Beings Intelligible and Eternal
is the most excellent.
Inasmuch, then, as she was compounded of the Same and
of the Other and of Substance, these three, and was divided
and bound together according to due proportions, and alway
returneth unto herself, when she toucheth anything whose
substance is scattered, or aught whose substance is undivided,
she is moved throughout all her nature, and declareth where-
with that thing is the same, and wherefrom it is different.
* * ΩΣ * * *
1 Timaeus, note on 36 c, p. 111.
2 See de An. i. 406 Ὁ 25-407 Ὁ 18, where Aristotle summarises this account
of the formation of the Soul, and criticises it in a manner which shows that he
entirely misapprehends the Timaeus—fails to see that its ‘‘ doctrines” are con-
veyed διὰ μυθολογίας, not διὰ διδαχῆς. In a Myth it is allowable to speak of the
Soul as μέγεθος.
270 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
\ \ = ’ ~ “
Cc ‘Os δὲ κινηθὲν αὐτὸ καὶ ζῶν ἐνόησε τῶν ἀϊδίων θεῶν
4 v φ , , , , \ »
γεγονὸς ἄγαλμα ὁ γεννήσας πατήρ, ἠγάσθη τε καὶ εὐφραν-
4 v \ “ »" \ Ἁ ,ὔ , ,
θεὶς ἔτι δὴ μᾶλλον ὅμοιον πρὸς τὸ παράδειγμα ἐπενόησεν
» 7 / 9° ᾽ \ / A ta’
Ὁ ἀπεργάσασθαι. καθάπερ οὖν αὐτὸ τυγχάνει ζῶον ἀΐδιον
ὄν, καὶ τόδε τὸ πᾶν οὕτως εἰς δύναμιν ἐπεχείρησε τοιοῦτον
, 7 ΄ \ ΚΣ “- , / , 4 ?
ἀποτελεῖν. ἡ μὲν οὖν τοῦ ζώου φύσις ἐτύγχανεν οὖσα
αἰώνιος. καὶ τοῦτο μὲν δὴ τῷ γεννητῷ παντελῶς προσά-
/ / / »»
Trew οὐκ ἦν δυνατὸν" εἰκὼ δ᾽ ἐπενόει κινητὸν τινα αἰῶνος
- a "»" ’ tA
ποιῆσαι, Kal διακοσμῶν ἅμα οὐρανὸν ποιεῖ μένοντος αἰῶνος
, Be ᾽ > \ , A ῳ TF ᾽» ’ὔ -" ὃ δ)
ἐν évl κατ᾽ ἀριθμὸν ἰοῦσαν αἰώνιον εἰκόνα, τοῦτον ὃν δὴ
/ / a
χρόνον ὠνομάκαμεν. ἡμέρας γὰρ καὶ νύκτας καὶ μῆνας καὶ
7 > \ / o
E ἐνιαυτούς, οὐκ ὄντας πρὶν οὐρανὸν γενέσθαι, τότε ἅμα
᾽ , / \ / ’ a a
EKELV@ ξυνισταμένῳ THV γεέενέεέσιν αὐτῶν μηχαναται.
* * * * * a
, + i > > A , “ “ /
38 B Χρόνος δ᾽ οὖν pet οὐρανοῦ γέγονεν, iva ἅμα γεννηθέντες
“ \ “~ ». / > A ’ \
ἅμα καὶ λυθῶσιν, ἄν ποτε λύσις Tis αὐτῶν γίγνηται, καὶ
\ \ / lal / / | fet e e ui
κατὰ τὸ παράδειγμα τῆς διαιωνίας φύσεως, iv’ ὡς ὁμοιό-
» “ \ [4 . \ \ \ \ ,
στατος αὐτῷ κατὰ δύναμιν ἦ: τὸ μὲν γὰρ δὴ παράδευγμα
/ IA , ᾽ Μ e ᾽ ° \ / \ oe
πάντα αἰῶνά ἐστιν ὄν, ὁ δ᾽ av διὰ τέλους τὸν ἅπαντα
/ ΄ \ vn \ ᾽ / ᾽ ° / \
χρόνον γεγονώς τε Kai ὧν καὶ ἐσόμενος. ἐξ οὖν λόγου καὶ
~ / \ ’ ,ὔ A lol
διανοίας θεοῦ τοιαύτης πρὸς χρόνου γένεσιν, ἵνα γεννηθῇ
/ [4 \ / \ / ” ” , ’
χρόνος, ἥλιος καὶ σεληνὴ καὶ πέντε ἄλλα ἄστρα, ἐπίκλην
» , > \ \ A
ἔχοντα πλανηταί, εἰς διορισμὸν καὶ φυλακὴν ἀριθμῶν
, \ 7 , , e
χρόνου γέγονε. σώματα δὲ αὐτῶν ἑκάστων ποιήσας ὁ θεὸς
» ᾽ ‘ , A - ; , 7 ‘ \
ἔθηκεν εἰς Tas περιφοράς, as ἡ θατέρου περίοδος Few, ἑπτὰ
οὔσας ὄντα ἑπτά.
% * * * x: ΕΣ
39 E Kai τὰ μὲν ἄλλα ἤδη μέχρι χρόνου γενέσεως ἀπείρ-
γαστο εἰς ὁμοιότητα ᾧπερ ἀπεικάζετο, τῷ δὲ μήπω τὰ
πάντα ζῶα ἐντὸς αὑτοῦ γεγενημένα περιειληφέναι, ταύτῃ
ἔτι εἶχεν ἀνομοίως. τοῦτο δὴ τὸ κατάλοιπον ἀπειργάξετο
αὐτοῦ πρὸς τὴν τοῦ παραδείγματος ἀποτυπούμενος φύσιν.
> 2 - ᾿ 7 bined "ἃ ν a , ”
ἧπερ οὖν νοῦς ἐνούσας ἰδέας τῷ ὃ ἔστι ζῶον, οἷαί τε ἔνεισι
THE 7/MALUS 271
Now, when the Father Who begat this created image of
the eternal gods saw that it moved and lived, He was glad ;
and, being well pleased, took thought to make it even more
like unto the pattern thereof. Inasmuch, then, as that
pattern is an Eternal Being, even such, so far as might be, did
He seek to make this Universe likewise. Now, the nature of
the Being which is the pattern thereof is eternal. And this
nature could not be joined in any wise unto the created thing :
wherefore He took thought to make a Moving Image of
Kternity ; and whilst He was ordering the Heaven, He made of
Kternity which abideth in Unity an Image Eternal progressing
according to Number, to wit, that which we have called by the
name of Zime. For days and nights and months and years,
which were not before the Heaven was created, He fashioned
and brought forth together with the Heaven when He framed it.
* * * + * *
Time was created together with the Heaven, so that, having
been created together, together they might be dissolved, if
dissolution should ever befall them: and after the pattern of
the Eternal Nature was it created, that it might be as like
thereto as possible; for the pattern is existent throughout all
Kternity, and the Image thereof was made, and is, and shall
be continually, throughout all Time. Wherefore, according to
this counsel of God for the creation of Time, the sun and the
moon and the other five stars, which are surnamed planets,
were created for the dividing and safeguarding of the numbers
of Time. And God, when He had made the bodies of each of
these, set them in the orbs wherein the circuit of the Other
was moving, seven stars in seven orbs.
¥* * ¥ x ¥ +
Now, until Time was brought forth, all else had been
fashioned in the likeness of That whereunto it was made like ;
but inasmuch as all the kinds of living creatures, which the
Universe should comprehend within itself, were not vet created,
therein was it still unlike.
This part, therefore, of the Universe which remained un-
finished He now finished, moulding it to the nature of the
pattern. All the Forms which Reason perceiveth to be present
in the Intelligible Living Creature, these, after their kinds,
272 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
\ ov - / \ ’ / A \
καὶ ὅσαι, καθορᾷ, τοιαύτας καὶ τοσαύτας διενοήθη δεῖν καὶ
/ 7 Pian \ / / \ ᾽ / "»“-
τόδε σχεῖν. εἰσὶ δὴ τέτταρες, μία μὲν οὐράνιον θεῶν
/ ” \ \ \ > ’ ’ \ ΝΜ)
40 γένος, ἄλλη δὲ πτηνὸν καὶ ἀεροπόρον, τρίτη δὲ ἔνυδρον
« Ν \ \ A / lal \ Ss /
εἶδος, πεζὸν δὲ καὶ χερσαῖον τέταρτον. τοῦ μὲν οὖν θείου
\ ’ » / 5» \ , ’ “ “ ,
τὴν πλείστην ἰδέαν ἐκ πυρὸς ἀπήρξατο, ὅπως ὅ TL λαμπρό-
’ a / v ad \ \ /,
τατον ἰδεῖν τε κάλλιστον εἴη, TO δὲ παντὶ προσεικάζων
v 5 , 7 , , \ a , /
εὔκυκλον ἐποίει, τίθησί τε εἰς THY τοῦ κρατίστου φρόνησιν
, / / ’ \ / 4 \ > U
ἐκείνῳ ξυνεπόμενον, νείμας περὶ πάντα κύκλῳ TOV οὐρανόν,
- “
κόσμον ἀληθινὸν αὐτῷ πεποικιλμένον εἶναι καθ᾽ ὅλον.
/ \ / lol e / \ \ > > »" \
κινήσεις δὲ δύο προσῆψεν ἑκάστῳ, τὴν μὲν EV ταὐτῷ κατὰ
> A Ἀ a > -“ ΨΌΝ \ > \ ΄ "»“" ,ὕὔ \
Β ταὐτὰ περὶ τῶν αὐτῶν ἀεὶ τὰ αὐτὰ ἑαυτῷ διανοουμένῳ, τὴν
\ " Ν / ς \ a > cal \ e , »"
δὲ εἰς τὸ πρόσθεν ὑπὸ τῆς ταὐτοῦ καὶ ὁμοίου περιφορᾶς
/ Ν \ / / 5 ’ \ e , 7?
κρατουμένῳ: τὰς δὲ πέντε κινήσεις ἀκίνητον Kal ἑστὸς, ἵν
“ ΄, > κα “ , c ” > >
6 τι μάλιστα αὐτῶν ἕκαστον γένοιτο ws ἄριστον. ἐξ ἧς
\ a } ΟΥ̓ / wv 9 5 fal - ” an ΄
δὴ τῆς αἰτίας γέγονεν ὅσ᾽ ἀπλανῆ τῶν ἄστρων ζῶα θεῖα
v \ 9 h \ \ tae. bd > a , ΙΑ,
ὄντα καὶ ἀΐδια καὶ κατὰ ταὐτὰ ἐν ταὐτῷ στρεφόμενα ἀεὶ
, \ \ 4 \ / / »
μένει' τὰ δὲ τρεπόμενα καὶ πλάνην τοιαύτην ἴσχοντα,
, > - , > 7 ᾽ ᾽ an , ΄
καθάπερ ἐν τοῖς πρόσθεν ἐρρήθη, κατ ἐκεῖνα γέγονε. γῆν
7 \ \ ς / ¢ , \ \ \ \ \
δέ, τροφὸν μὲν ἡμετέραν, εἱλλομένην δὲ περὶ τὸν διὰ παντὸς
ἢ , 7 \ \ , \
C πόλον τεταμένον, φύλακα καὶ δημιουργὸν νυκτὸς τε Kal
ς / > / / \ 4 lal “
ἡμέρας ἐμηχανήσατο, πρώτην καὶ πρεσβυτάτην θεῶν, ὅσοι
la /
ἐντὸς οὐρανοῦ γεγόνασι.
* * *k * * *
Ἑ Γῆς te καὶ Οὐρανοῦ παῖδες ‘Oxeavos te καὶ TnOds ἐγενέ-
/ r /
σθην, τούτων δὲ Φόρκυς Kpovos te καὶ ‘Péa καὶ ὅσοι μετὰ
5 / eS / \ /
41 τούτων, ἐκ δὲ Κρόνου καὶ Ῥέας Ζεὺς Ἥρα τε καὶ πάντες,
“ v ’ \ / , a Μ ,
ὅσους ἴσμεν ἀδελφοὺς λεγομένους αὐτῶν, ETL TE τούτων
» ; ᾽ . , .
ἄλλους ἐκγόνους. ᾿Ἐπεὶ δ᾽ οὖν πάντες, ὅσοι τε περιπολοῦσι
τ ᾽ /
φανερῶς καὶ ὅσοι φαίνονται καθ᾽ ὅσον ἂν ἐθέλωσι, οἱ θεοὶ
/ ν , \ \ > \ e , \ lal
γένεσιν ἔσχον, λέγει δὴ πρὸς αὐτοὺς ὁ τόδε TO πᾶν
/ (ὃ (~) \ fa A φ b] \ ὃ \ /
γεννήσας tade* Θεοὶ θεῶν, ὧν ἐγὼ δημιουργὸς πατήρ Te
v ΄ ’ la / \
ἔργων, ἃ δι’ ἐμοῦ γενόμενα ἄλυτα ἐμοῦ γε ἐθέλοντος. τὸ
THE 7IMAEUS 273
did He think it meet that this Universe also should contain.
Now, these Forms are four: first, there is the heavenly race
of the gods; then the race of winged fowls of the air; third,
the kind that liveth in the water; and fourth, the kind that
walketh on the dry land.
The Form of the Godhead He consecrated and made for
the most part of fire, that it might be brightest of all and
fairest to look upon; and likening it unto the Universe He
made it spherical, and set it in the Path of the Wisdom of the
Highest to go therewith, and distributed it over all the spangled
round of Heaven, to be a true adornment thereof. And unto
every one of the divine stars He gave two motions—the one
motion in the same place, and itself the same without changing,
which is the motion of him who is true unto himself and
thinketh alway the same thoughts concerning the same
things; and the other motion forward, controlled by the
revolution of the Same and the Like: but in respect of the
other five motions He made it stand still. For this cause
were those stars created which wander not, but, turning round
with uniform motion, each one in his own place, therein alway
abide, being living creatures divine and eternal.
As for the stars which wander, they were created in the
manner which hath been told.
And Earth, our nursing mother, which is wrapped round
about the line which extendeth from pole to pole, she was
fashioned to be the guardian and maker of night and day, the
first and eldest of the gods which were created within the
Heaven.
* * * ΩΣ * *
Of Earth and Heaven were born Ocean and Tethys; of
these were born Phorkys and Cronus and Rhea and their
brethren ; and of Cronus and Rhea were born Zeus and Hera
and their brethren, whose names are made mention of; and
these, again, had children.
Now, when all the gods were born—both gods visible in
their heavenly courses, and gods which make themselves visible
as it pleaseth them—then spake unto them the Begetter of
this Universe, saying: Gods of gods whose Maker and Father
I am, ye are the creatures of my handiwork, and without me
are ye not loosed asunder; for verily that which is bound to-
©
274 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
κ U / \ an \
μὲν οὖν δὴ δεθὲν πᾶν λυτόν, TO γε μὴν καλῶς ἁρμοσθὲν
/ / lal ᾽ A
Bal ἔχον εὖ λύειν ἐθέλειν κακοῦ. δι ἃ Kal ἐπείπερ
; > , \ > > \ »o? ΝΜ Ν /
γεγένησθε, ἀθάνατοι μὲν οὐκ ἐστὲ οὐδ᾽ ἄλυτοι TO πάμπαν,
/ \ /
οὔ Te μὲν δὴ λυθήσεσθέ γε οὐδὲ τεύξεσθε θανάτου μοίρας,
A > - / / ” r \ 7
τῆς ἐμῆς βουλήσεως μείζονος ἔτι δεσμοῦ καὶ κυριωτέρου
/ . 9 al la)
λαχόντες ἐκείνων, ols ὅτ᾽ ἐγέίγνεσθε ξυνεδεῖσθε. νῦν οὖν ὃ
/ \ al /
λέγω πρὸς ὑμᾶς ἐνδεικνύμενος, μάθετε. θνητὰ ἔτι γένη
\ P ΣΟΥ , \ \ / > \
λοιπὰ τρί ἀγέννητα. τούτων δὲ μὴ γενομένων οὐρανὸς
> \ 4 \ \ ¢ ἀν. ¢ a / ’ > isd
ἀτελὴς ἔσται: τὰ yap ἅπαντ᾽ ἐν αὑτῷ γένη ζώων οὐχ ἕξει,
7 ; e “- 3 ᾽ a) lo)
C δεῖ δέ, εἰ μέλλει τέλεος ἱκανῶς εἶναι. Se ἐμοῦ δὲ ταῦτα
/ \ / / a > / > ΝΜ 4 Ss
γενόμενα καὶ βίου μετασχόντα θεοῖς ἰσάζοιτ᾽ ἄν. ἵνα οὖν
͵ 3 , κι , " “ 5 ,
θνητά τε ἢ τό τε πᾶν τόδε ὄντως ἅπαν ἢ, τρέπεσθε κατὰ
/ e lal ; (ee \ a] , / 4 \
φύσιν ὑμεῖς ἐπὶ τὴν τῶν ζώων δημιουργίαν, μιμούμενοι THY
> \ / \ \ ς / / \ ’ [τ
ἐμὴν δύναμιν περὶ τὴν ὑμετέραν γένεσιν. καὶ καθ ὅσον
\ > fal ᾽ / e , s 7 a /
μὲν αὐτῶν ἀθανάτοις ὁμώνυμον εἶναι προσήκει, θεῖον λεγό-
΄ > > an a - om, / \ e lal
μενον ἡγεμονοῦν τε ἐν αὐτοῖς τῶν ἀεὶ δίκῃ καὶ ὑμῖν
b) / “ / Se / t Pa ,
ἐθελόντων ἕπεσθαι, σπείρας καὶ ὑπαρξάμενος ἐγὼ παραδώσω"
\ \ \ ς a > / \ / > /
D τὸ δὲ λοιπὸν ὑμεῖς, ἀθανάτῳ θνητὸν προσυφαίνοντες, ἀπεργά-
an \ lal / /
ἕεσθε ζῶα Kai yevvate τροφήν te διδόντες αὐξάνετε καὶ
φθίνοντα πάλιν δέχεσθε.
a? > \ / ᾽ \ \ / -
Ταῦτ εἶπε, καὶ πάλιν ἐπὶ τὸν πρότερον κρατῆρα, ἐν
? \ “ \ \ \ 5d \ a /
ᾧ τὴν τοῦ παντὸς ψυχὴν κεραννὺς ἔμισγε, TA TOV πρόσθεν
᾽ / - / /
ὑπόλοιπα κατεχεῖτο μίσγων τρόπον μέν τινα τὸν αὐτόν,
» 7 δ᾽ > Ul \ ᾽ \ ς / > ,ὔ \
ἀκήρατα οὐκέτι κατὰ ταὐτὰ ὡσαύτως, ἀλλὰ δεύτερα καὶ
/ / \ \ “ / a
τρίτα. ξυστήσας δὲ τὸ πᾶν διεῖλε ψυχὰς ἰσαρίθμους τοῖς
"» " , ᾽ vir ὦ ‘ “ \ ᾽ ΄
Ε ἄστροις, ἔνειμέ θ᾽ ἑκάστην πρὸς ἕκαστον, καὶ ἐμβιβάσας
᾿ > v \ al \ / Μ ’ \
ὡς εἰς ὄχημα τὴν TOD παντὸς φύσιν ἔδειξε, νόμους τε τοὺς
Ld / > » a “ / ’ὔ ν
εἱμαρμένους εἶπεν αὐταῖς, ὅτι γένεσις πρώτη μὲν ἔσοιτο
/ / a) “ / a ΄ ᾽ ᾽ lal /
τεταγμένη μία πᾶσιν, ἵνα μή τις ἐλαττοῖτο ὑπ᾽ αὐτοῦ, δέοι
, 4 ; ; e149
δὲ σπαρείσας αὐτὰς εἰς τὰ προσήκοντα ἑκάστοις ἕκαστα
ΤῊΝ 7IMALUS 275
gether can alway be loosed asunder; but none save an evil one
would desire to loose asunder that whereof the parte are well
joined together and the whole state is goodly. Wherefore,
being creatures, ye are not altogether set apart from death so
that ye cannot be loosed asunder: nevertheless, loosed asunder
ye shall not be, nor shall ye partake of death, because that my
will, which is your portion, is a greater bond and prevaileth
more than all those bonds wherewith your parts were bound
together when ye were created,
Now give ear unto that which 1 declare unto you. Three
mortal kinds are yet uncreated. If these be not brought
forth, the Heaven will be imperfect; for it will not have in
itself all the kinds of living creatures; yet must it have all, if
it is to be fully perfect. But if these were brought into being
by me, and by me made partakers of life, they would be
equals to gods. Wherefore, to the end that they be mortal
and that this Universe—this All, be truly All, turn ye,
according to nature, to the making of living creatures, having
the faculty, for an ensample, wherewith I created you.
That part of them whereunto it belongeth to partake in
the name of immortal—that part, to wit, which is called divine
and is leader in them of those parts which alway do desire to
follow after righteousness and after you—that part I, having
sown to be a beginning, will deliver unto you. Thereafter do
ye, weaving the mortal upon the immortal, fashion living
creatures and beget them, and giving them nourishment in-
crease them, and when they die receive them again. Thus He
spake, and again He took the bowl wherein afore He compounded
and mixed the elements of the Soul of the All, and into this
bowl He poured that which was left over of the elements, mix-
ing them as afore; yet now were they not so pure as at first,
but second and third in quality.
Then, when He had made of them one mixture, He took and
divided Souls therefrom, as many as there are stars, and to each
star he assigned a Soul, and caused each Soul to go up into her
star as into a chariot, and showed unto her the nature of the
All, and declared the laws thereof which are fixed and shall
not be moved, to wit, that it was appointed that the first birth
should be for all the same, so that no Soul should fare worse
at His hands than another, and that all, having been cast as
270 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
a ’ Ν a
ὄργανα χρόνων φῦναι ζώων τὸ θεοσεβέστατον, διπλῆς δὲ
ΝΜ “ > / : 4 \ a an Mv
a2 οὔσης τῆς ἀνθρωπίνης φύσεως τὸ κρεῖττον τοιοῦτον εἴη
/ ἃ \ »)} / > / e / \ ,
γένος, ὃ Kal ἔπειτα κεκλήσοιτο ἀνήρ. ὁπότε δὴ σώμασιν
> a > ᾽ / \ \ \ / \ ᾽ > /
ἐμφυτευθεῖεν ἐξ ἀνάγκης, Kal TO μὲν προσίοι, TO δ᾽ ἀπίοι
τοῦ σώματος αὐτῶν, πρῶτον μὲν αἴσθησιν ἀναγκαῖον εἴη
, a > / / 4 /
μίαν πᾶσιν ἐκ βιαίων παθημάτων ξύμφυτον γίγνεσθαι,
7 \ ς a \ / / Μ Ν Ν
δεύτερον δὲ ἡδονῇ καὶ λύπῃ μεμιγμένον ἔρωτα, πρὸς δὲ
΄ 7 \ \ “ ς / > a \ e /
Β τούτοις φόβον καὶ θυμὸν ὅσα τε ἑπόμενα αὐτοῖς Kal ὁπόσα
? , / , ἣν > \ / ᾽ /
ἐναντίως πέφυκε SuecTnKoTa’ ὧν εἰ μὲν κρατήσοιεν, ἐν δίκῃ
/ / \ > / \ e \ @ \
βιώσοιντο, κρατηθέντες δὲ ἀδικίᾳ. καὶ ὁ μὲν εὖ τὸν προσ-
7 ’ 7 / > \ - / \
ἤκοντα χρόνον βιούς, πάλιν εἰς THY τοῦ ξυννόμου πορευθεὶς
οἴκησιν ἄστρου, βίον εὐδαίμονα καὶ συνήθη ἕξοι: σφαλεὶς
δὲ τούτων εἰς γυναικὸς φύσιν ἐν τῇ δευτέρᾳ γενέσει μετα
7 7 P? TF μέετα-
a \ / / ’ / Μ / / a
C βαλοῖ, μὴ παυόμενός τε ἐν τούτοις ETL κακίας, τρόπον ὃν
e / an a /
KQKUVOLTO, κατὰ τὴν ὁμοιότητα τῆς τοῦ τρόπου γενέσεως
n /
εἴς Twa τοιαύτην ἀεὶ μεταβαλοῖ θήρειον φύσιν, ἀλλάττων
> ’ / / \ A » - e ,
Te οὐ πρότερον πόνων λήξοι, πρὶν τῇ ταὐτοῦ Kal ὁμοίου
ag > e
ὃ A E U \ λὺ v x \
περιόδῳ τῇ ἐν αὑτῷ ξυνεπιστόμενος τὸν πολὺν ὄχλον καὶ
Ὁ / > \ \ e \ »/ \ a
Ὁ ὕστερον προσφύντα ἐκ πυρὸς Kal ὕδατος Kal ἀέρος Kal γῆς,
, / -
θορυβώδη καὶ ἄλογον ὄντα, λόγῳ κρατήσας εἰς τὸ τῆς
,ὔ / s
πρώτης Kal ἀρίστης ἀφίκοιτο εἶδος ἕξεως. Διαθεσμοθετήσας
a A ~ a ,
δὲ πάντα αὐτοῖς ταῦτα, ἵνα τῆς ἔπειτα εἴη κακίας ἑκάστων
᾽ / Μ \ \ ,’ a \ ᾽ , /
ἀναίτιος, ἔσπειρε τοὺς μὲν εἰς γῆν, τοὺς δ᾽ εἰς σελήνην,
> /
τοὺς δ᾽ εἰς τἄλλα ὅσα ὄργανα χρόνου. τὸ δὲ μετὰ τὸν
’ la / / a ’ / /
σπόρον τοῖς νέοις παρέδωκε θεοῖς σώματα πλάττειν θνητά,
/ ᾽ / “ a = na ᾽ / /
τό Te ἐπίλοιπον ὅσον ἔτει ἣν ψυχῆς ἀνθρωπίνης δέον
na ’ /
Ε προσγενέσθαι, τοῦτο καὶ πάνθ᾽ ὅσα ἀκόλουθα ἐκείνοις ἀπερ-
γασαμένους ἄρχειν, καὶ κατὰ δύναμιν 6 τι κάλλιστα καὶ
ΤῊΝ TIMALUS 277
seed upon the Instruments of Time, each upon the Instrument
suitable for her, must first be born in the flesh of that living
creature which feareth God most; and, since human nature
hath two kinds, in the flesh of that kind which is the better,
which thereafter should be called Man. Therefore, whereas
Souls of necessity should be implanted in Bodies, and of the
Body there should be that which cometh and that which goeth,
first must all Souls have implanted in them at their birth one
sense collected from the passions which assault them; more-
over, all must have born in them love made up of pleasure and
pain, and in addition thereto fear and anger and all the other
passions which do go together with these, and also as many as
are by nature contrary to these—and if any man should hold
these passions in subjection, his life would be righteous; but
unrighteous, if he should be overcome of them ; and whosoever
lived virtuously all the time appointed unto him should
journey back to his kindred star and dwell there, and there
should have a life blessed and conform unto his nature: but
whosoever fell short of this, he in the second birth should pass
into the nature of Woman; and if therein he refrained not
from wickedness, then, according to the likeness of that wicked-
ness whereunto he turned him, should he pass alway into the
nature of some Beast, and should not be rid of the labour of
these changes until, having closely followed the Circuit of the
Same and the Like which is in himself, he should, by the
might of reason, overcome all that unreasonable, tumultuous
crowd which was afterward gathered about him from the ele-
ments of fire and water and air and earth, and should come
again unto his first and best estate.
He having made all these ordinances for them, that He
might be blameless as touching the wickedness which should
be thereafter in each one of them, sowed some on the Earth
and some on the Moon and some on the other Instruments of
Time; and all that should come after the sowing He delivered
unto the Young Gods, to wit, the moulding of mortal bodies and
the fashioning of all parts (together with all their appurte-
nances) that yet remained of man’s Soul which must be added
thereto: all this did He deliver unto the Young Gods, that
thereby they might have rule over the living creature which
is mortal, and might guide it, after their ability, to walk in
278 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
v \ \ a cal “ὔ \ a em Ὁ
ἄριστα τὸ θνητὸν διακυβερνᾶν ζῶον, 6 Te μὴ κακῶν αὐτὸ
e x / yy
ἑαυτῷ γίγνοιτο αἴτιον.
[ \ \ lal
Kai ὁ μὲν δὴ ἅπαντα ταῦτα διατάξας ἔμενεν ἐν τῷ
ξ a \ , ” 7 \ , ς “
ἑαυτοῦ κατὰ τρόπον ἤθει" μένοντος δὲ νοήσαντες οἱ παῖδες
τὴν τοῦ πατρὸς διάταξιν ἐπείθοντο αὐτῇ, καὶ λαβόντες
> / > \ “ ’ 4 \ /
ἀθάνατον ἀρχὴν θνητοῦ ζώου, μιμούμενοι τὸν σφέτερον
ὃ / \ \ A “ὃ \ »/ > \ lal
ημιουργόν, πυρὸς Kat γῆς ὕδατός τε καὶ ἀέρος ἀπὸ τοῦ
’ / / id > / / ’
48 κόσμου δανειζόμενοι μόρια ὡς ἀποδοθησόμενα πάλιν, εἰς
al
ταὐτὸν τὰ λαμβανόμενα συνεκόλλων, OV τοῖς ἀλύτοις οἷς
/ lal /
αὐτοὶ ξυνείχοντο δεσμοῖς, ἀλλὰ διὰ σμικρότητα ἀοράτοις
an / / A > e / > /
πυκνοῖς γόμφοις ξυντήκοντες, ἕν ἐξ ἁπάντων ἀπεργαζόμενοι
lal Φ \ a > / - / δον
σῶμα ἕκαστον, τὰς τῆς ἀθανάτου ψυχῆς περιόδους ἐνέδουν
> > / a \ > / e > ᾽ \
εἰς ἐπίρρυτον σῶμα καὶ ἀπόρρυτον. ai δ᾽ εἰς ποταμὸν
a mse a
ἐνδεθεῖσαι πολὺν οὔτ᾽ ἐκράτουν οὔτ᾽ ἐκρατοῦντο, Bia δὲ
\ a a
Β ἐφέροντο καὶ ἔφερον, ὥστε TO μὲν ὅλον κινεῖσθαι ζῶον,
> 4 \ “ / “ \ ᾽ / \ Δ
ἀτάκτως μὴν ὅπῃ τύχοι προϊέναι καὶ ἀλόγως, τὰς ὲξ
ς 7 / »” y \ \ , \ Μ
ἁπάσας κινήσεις ἔχον' εἴς τε γὰρ τὸ πρόσθεν καὶ ὄπισθεν
\ / > \ \ ᾽ \ / \ ” \
καὶ πάλιν εἰς δεξιὰ Kal ἀριστερὰ κάτω τε Kal ἄνω Kal
7 \ \ Δ / f / lol
πάντῃ κατὰ τοὺς ἕξ τόπους πλανώμενα προήειν. πολλοῦ
» A / Δ ͵ ΄ a
yap ὄντος τοῦ κατακλύζοντος καὶ ἀπορρέοντος κύματος, ὃ
\ a /
τὴν τροφὴν παρεῖχεν, ἔτε μείζω θόρυβον ἀπειργάζετο τὰ
rn / / /
στῶν προσπιπτόντων παθήματα ἑκάστοις, ὅτε πυρὶ προσ-
/ \ an / y ᾽ / \ wn \
κρούσειε TO σῶμά τινος ἔξωθεν ἀλλοτρίῳ περιτυχὸν ἢ Kal
lal - ΄ lal aX 0 / 58 / @ yy far
στερεῷ γῆς ὑγροῖς τε ὀλισθήμασιν ὑδάτων, εἴτε ζάλῃ
7 EB »/ / / 7
πνευμάτων ὑπ ἀέρος φερομένων καταληφθείη, καὶ ὑπὸ
7 7 ὃ \ a / e / > ὶ \ \
πάντων τούτων διὰ τοῦ σώματος αἱ κινήσεις ἐπὶ THY ψυχὴν
/ / "“" \ \ Μ la
φερόμεναι προσπίπτοιεν' αἱ δὴ καὶ ἔπειτα διὰ ταῦτα
ἐκλήθησάν τε καὶ νῦν ἔτι αἰσθήσεις ξυνάπασαι κέκληνται.
* ¥ x x x ve
\ \ \ an / / la ᾽ ᾽ 7
44 καὶ διὰ δὴ ταῦτα πάντα τὰ παθήματα νῦν κατ᾽ ἀρχάς τε
THE TIMAKLUS 279
the most honourable and perfect way, without evil, save that
which it should itself bring upon itself,
All these things did He ordain, and thereafter abode in
His own proper nature. Therein He abode; and His sons, having
comprehended their Father's ordinance, were obedient unto it,
and having received the immortal beginning of the living
creature which is mortal, they took their own Maker for an
ensample, and borrowed from the Universe portions of fire
and earth and water and air which should be restored again :
these they took and cemented together, not with the bonds
which cannot be loosed wherewith they themselves were held
together; but with bolts innumerable, invisible by reason of
smallness, they welded them, and out of them all fashioned
one body for each living creature, binding the Circuits of
Immortal Soul within Body that consisteth in perpetual
influx and efflux.
Now the Circuits of the Soul, having been bound within
the River of the Body which floweth mightily, neither had
the mastery over it, nor were they mastered, but were pushed
about, and did push with violence, so that the whole creature
was moved, and went hither and thither disorderly, by chance,
without forethought, having all the six motions ; for forward and
backward, and to the right and to the left, and down and up,
did the creatures go, wandering towards all the six points;
because that the flood was great which did swell up over them
supplying their nourishment, and then again did flow away
from them; and yet greater was the commotion that was
made in them by the blows of those things which did strike
against them—to wit, when the body of any living creature
happened on something without, foreign from itself, and
therewith had contact—with fire, or with solid earth, or
smoothly sliding water, or if at any time it was overtaken by
the blast of winds borne along in the air; and then the
motions caused by all these were carried through the Body
into the Soul and beat upon her. Wherefore were all these
motions together called aesthéses and still are so called.
ἋΣ * ΩΣ τον * *
By reason of these assaults of the passions which are
made upon her, the Soul now, as in the beginning, loseth
1 Plato seems to derive αἴσθησις, ‘‘ sensation,” from ἀΐσσειν, ‘to rush violently.”
280 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Β ἄνους ψυχὴ γίγνεται TO πρῶτον, ὅταν eis σῶμα ἐνδεθῇ
5 XD YY p ; ἐς ἐνδεθῃ
, \ ~ lol
θνητόν: ὅταν δὲ τὸ τῆς αὔξης καὶ τροφῆς ἔλαττον ἐπίῃ
a , / /
ῥεῦμα, πάλιν δὲ ai περίοδοι. λαμβανόμεναι γαλήνης τὴν
¢ - ον " \ a n > / A
ἑαυτῶν ὁδὸν ἴωσι καὶ καθιστῶνται μᾶλλον ἐπιόντος τοῦ
/ / ” \ \ /, / a
χρόνου, τότε ἤδη πρὸς τὸ κατὰ φύσιν ἰόντων σχῆμα
c / a , ς \ / /
ἑκάστων τῶν κύκλων al περιφοραὶ κατευθυνόμεναι, TO TE
\ \ \ U
θάτερον καὶ τὸ ταὐτὸν προσαγορεύουσαι κατ᾽ ὀρθόν, ἔμφρονα
\ » | oom” / > a Ὰ Φ \
TOV ἔχοντα αὐτὰς γιγνόμενον ἀποτελοῦσιν. ἂν μὲν οὖν δὴ
\ e /
σ καὶ ξυνεπιλαμβάνηταί τις ὀρθὴ τροφὴ παιδεύσεως, ὁλό-
e / al \ / > \ /
KANpos ὑγιής τε παντελῶς, τὴν μεγίστην ἀποφυγὼν νόσον,
/ \ a
γίγνεται." καταμελήσας δέ, χωλὴν τοῦ βίου διαπορευθεὶς
/ ? \ » Se Ὑ 7 ? "* ὃ / ” a
ζωήν, ἀτελὴς καὶ avovntos' eis “Avdov πάλιν ἔρχεται. ταῦτα
\ 93 e / / \ \ lal lal /
μὲν οὖν ὕστερά ποτε γίγνεται" περὶ δὲ τῶν νῦν προτεθέντων
- al \ /
δεῖ διελθεῖν ἀκριβέστερον. τὰ δὲ πρὸ τούτων, περὶ σωμά-
\ / a / \ \ ol ὃ ᾽ “
των κατὰ μέρη τῆς γενέσεως καὶ περὶ ψυχῆς, δι’ ἅς τε
| εν Ν ,ὔ / a A , | a 4
αἰτίας Kal προνοίας γέγονε θεῶν, Tod μάλιστα εἰκότος
\ a /
Ὁ ἀντεχομένοις, οὕτω Kal κατὰ ταῦτα πορευομένοις διεξιτέον.
Ν \ \ / / / ” \ lal \
Tas μὲν δὴ θείας περιόδους δύο οὔσας, TO τοῦ παντὸς
a > 7 \ ἡ > \ A
σχῆμα ἀπομιμησάμενοι περιφερὲς ὄν, εἰς σφαιροειδὲς σῶμα
7 a A a \ > / ἃ / /
ἐνέδησαν, τοῦτο ὃ νῦν κεφαλὴν ἐπονομάζομεν, ὃ θειότατόν
lal lal lal ? an
τ᾽ ἐστὶ καὶ τῶν ἐν ἡμῖν πάντων δεσποτοῦν. ᾧ Kal πᾶν
\ lal / ς΄ / > a / /
TO σῶμα παρέδοσαν ὑπηρεσίαν αὐτῷ ξυναθροίσαντες θεοί,
n /
κατανοήσαντες, OTL πασῶν ὅσαι κινήσεις ἔσοιντο μετέχοι"
aA / lel
iv οὖν μὴ κυλινδούμενον ἐπὶ γῆς ὕψη te καὶ βάθη
\ > 4 > la \ \ ς / Μ
Ἑ παντοδαπὰ ἐχούσης amopot τὰ μὲν ὑπερβαίνειν, ἔνθεν
\ ᾽ / ” ᾽ > A a \ > / ἔδ 50
δὲ ἐκβαίνειν, ὄχημ᾽ αὐτῷ τοῦτο Kal εὐπορίαν ἔδοσαν. ὅθεν
\ an Ν a Μ ᾽ / a \
δὴ μῆκος TO σῶμα ἔσχεν, ἐκτατά τε κῶλα Kal καμπτὰ
Μ / a) / lal »
ἔφυσε, τέτταρα θεοῦ μηχανησαμένου πορεῖα, οἷς ἀντιλαμ-
/ “ U /
βανόμενον καὶ ἀπερειδόμενον διὰ πάντων ᾿τόπων πορεύεσθαι
\ / \ “ 7 ‘ e / /
45 δυνατὸν γέγονε τὴν τοῦ θειοτάτου καὶ ἱερωτάτου φέρον
Μ ᾽ / ΄ A / \ * af ,
οἴκησιν ἐπάνωθεν ἡμῶν. σκέλη μὲν οὖν χεῖρές Te ταύτῃ
1 ἀνόητος.
THE 7T/MALUS 281
understanding when she is first bound unto the mortal body ;
but when the stream of growth and nourishment abateth of
his influx, and the Circuits of the Soul are gotten into smooth
waters, and go their own way, and are become more constant
as time passeth on, then at last are they brought into the
perfect form of the natural motion which is proper unto each
of the Circles, and marking and naming the Other and the
Same aright, they cause him who possesseth them to have
understanding ; and if right teaching also take part in the
work, he becometh whole and altogether sound, having escaped
that disease which is the greatest of all; but if he give not
heed unto this teaching, he journeyeth halt through this
present life, and, without initiation, and without understanding,
cometh again unto Hades.
But these be things which come to pass afterward ; it
behoves us rather to tell more exactly concerning the matter
which now we have in hand, and concerning the matter
which is precedent thereto, to wit, concerning the generation
of the Body with the parts thereof, and concerning the Soul
and the causes and purposes of the Gods by reason whereof
she was generated. All these things, therefore, let us ex-
pound, alway holding fast in our discourse unto that which
seemeth most likely.
The Young Gods, taking for a pattern the shape of the
Universe which is a globe, bound the Divine Circles, which are
twain, within this corporeal ball which we now call Head, which
is the divinest of our parts, and hath lordship over them all.
Unto the Head, to minister unto it, the Gods gave the whole
Body which they had compacted together; for they perceived
that unto the Head belonged all the motions which should be.
Wherefore, that it might not go rolling upon the earth, which
hath heights and depths of every sort, finding no way of
getting over those or out of these, to this end gave they
unto it the Body for a carriage, to make the way easy for it.
Wherefore the Body got length, and put forth limbs which
were able to be stretched out and to be bent, four in number ;
for thus did the Gods devise means of going about, so that
the Body, therewith taking hold and pushing off, could go
through all places, bearing aloft the temple of that which in
us is the most divine and the most holy. In this wise, then,
282 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
\ la la lal > 7
καὶ διὰ ταῦτα προσέφυ πᾶσι' τοῦ δ᾽ ὄπισθεν τὸ πρόσθεν
, \ 5) , \ ’ \ \
τιμιώτερον καὶ ἀρχικώτερον νομίζοντες θεοὶ ταύτῃ TO πολὺ
- , Ce ” 4 \ / ΝΜ \
τῆς πορείας ἡμῖν ἔδοσαν. ἔδει δὴ διωρισμένον ἔχειν καὶ
> U a , \ / ΝΜ \ \
ἀνομοίον τοῦ σώματος τὸ πρόσθεν ἄνθρωπον. διὸ δὴ
a \ \ \ a tel / [ / δ.»
πρῶτον μὲν περὶ τὸ τῆς κεφαλῆς κύτος, ὑποθέντες αὐτόσε
\ / " ΦΟΥ 7 7 a as 7
τὸ πρόσωπον, ὄργανα ἐνέδησαν τούτῳ πάσῃ TH τῆς ψυχῆς
Β ποῦν le \ ὃ (ξ 7 ε , as ae \
povoia, καὶ διετάξαντο μετέχον ἡγεμονίας τοῦτ᾽ εἶναι TO
\ , / -" »-“
κατὰ φύσιν πρόσθεν. τῶν δὲ ὀργάνων πρῶτον μὲν φωσφόρα
/ ” a > / Df a \
ξυνετεκτήναντο ὄμματα, τοιᾷδε ἐνδήσαντες aitia. τοῦ πυρὸς
Ψ Ν \ / > ΝΜ \ \ / Le 4
ὅσον τὸ μὲν κάειν οὐκ ἔσχε, τὸ δὲ παρέχειν φῶς ἥμερον,
> a / / a ἵ /
οἰκεῖον ἑκάστης ἡμέρας, σῶμα ἐμηχανήσαντο γίγνεσθαι. τὸ
Ν > \ -“ \ xX / la)
yap ἐντὸς ἡμῶν ἀδελφὸν ὃν τούτου πῦρ εἰλικρινὲς ἐποίησαν
ὃ \ a ? / δ 27% al 1 / Ὁ / /
la TOV ὀμμάτων ῥεῖν λεῖον Kal πυκνόν, ὅλον μέν, μάλιστα
\ \ “ Ν
Οδὲ τὸ μέσον ξυμπιλήσαντες τῶν ὀμμάτων, ὥστε τὸ μὲν
» oe , / a \ lal \ /
ἄλλο ὅσον παχύτερον στέγειν πᾶν, TO τοιοῦτον δὲ μόνον
ϑ. κ᾿ \ al “ Ss \ 3 a \
αὐτὸ καθαρὸν διηθεῖν. ὅταν οὖν μεθημερινὸν ἡ φῶς περὶ
\ an " δ, δα i gtk ᾽ 7 “ \ oe
TO τῆς ὄψεως ῥεῦμα, TOT ἐκπῖπτον ὅμοιον πρὸς ὅμοιον,
, rn \ / \
ξυμπαγὲς γενόμενον, ἕν σῶμα οἰκειωθὲν συνέστη κατὰ τὴν
- ¢ / \ lal
TOV ὀμμάτων εὐθυωρίαν, ὅπῃπερ ἀντερείδει TO προσπῖπτον
a e \
ἔνδοθεν πρὸς ὃ τῶν ἔξω συνέπεσεν. ὁμοιοπαθὲς δὴ δι᾽
4 / κ / /
ὁμοιότητα πᾶν γενόμενον, ὅτου τε ἂν αὐτὸ ποτε ἐφάπτηται
/ / \
ἢ καὶ ὃ ἂν ἄλλο ἐκείνου, τούτων Tas κινήσεις διαδιδὸν εἰς
“ \ cal / - a Μ /
ἅπαν τὸ σῶμα μέχρι τῆς ψυχῆς αἴσθησιν παρέσχετο
e κ / 4 a
ταύτην, ἡ δὴ ὁρᾶν φαμέν. ἀπελθόντος δὲ εἰς νύκτα τοῦ
nr \ > / \ 9.) > \
Evyyevods πυρὸς ἀποτέτμηται' πρὸς yap ἀνόμοιον ἐξιὸν
rn / \ / A
ἀλλοιοῦταί τε αὐτὸ Kal κατασβέννυται, ξυμφυὲς οὐκέτι τῷ
’ Φ / “ la > μ
πλησίον ἀέρι γιγνόμενον, ἅτε πῦρ οὐκ ἔχοντι.
* * * * * *
ΒΟ . 7 > \ a / \ φ
a6C ταῦτ οὖν πάντα ἐστὶ τῶν ἕξυναιτίων, οἷς θεὸς ὑπηρε.
a - \ lal » ’ \ \ ὃ \ ἰδέ
τοῦσι χρῆται τὴν τοῦ ἀρίστου κατὰ τὸ δυνατὸν ἰδέαν
ἢ ἀποτελῶν: δοξάζεται δὲ ὑπὸ τῶν πλείστων οὐ Evvaitia
1 ῥεῖν, λεῖον.
THE TIMALUS 283
and for this end, were legs and hands put forth and added
unto all men; and the Gods, thinking that that which is
before is more honourable than that which is behind, and
more able to lead, made man to go for the most part forward ;
wherefore must he needs have the forepart of his body dis-
tinct from the hind part and dissimilar. For this reason
they first put the face on the forepart of the vessel of the
Head, and fixed therein the instruments which should minister
in every way unto the forethought of the Soul, having
ordained that that which hath ability to lead should be that
which is by nature before. First of these instruments they
fashioned light-bringing eyes, and fixed them in, after this
wise. Out of that fire which hath not the power of burning,
but is able to give gentle light—that light, to wit, which
belongeth to day—they contrived and made a body; for the
pure fire, twin-born therewith, which is within us they did
cause to flow through the eyes, having compressed their
substance throughout, but most of all in the mid part thereof,
so that it was made smooth and dense, and held in whatsoever
in the light was thick, and let only the light itself strain
through in a pure stream. When, therefore, the light of day
is round about the visual stream, then doth the stream, going
forth, like unto like, compactly join itself unto that stream
without against the which the stream that cometh from within
doth thrust itself, and these two being blended together make
one body which is extended in a straight line from the eyes.
The visual stream, then, since it is compact of parts altogether
like, receiveth altogether like affections; and when it toucheth
anything, and something else toucheth that, it passeth their
motions on throughout the whole Body, until they come unto
the Soul, and so it causeth that sense wherewith we say that
we see. But when the kindred fire is gone away into night,
then is the visual stream cut off; for, going forth into that
which is unlike itself, it is changed and quenched, no longer
becoming consubstantial with the air round about, because
that the air hath in it no fire.
* * * * * *
Now these be all auxiliary causes which God maketh
subservient unto His design of bringing the Idea of the Best
into act, as far as is possible; but most men are of opinion
284 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
ἀλλ᾽ αἴτια εἶναι τῶν πάντων, ψύχοντα Kal θερμαίνοντα
πηγνύντα τε καὶ διαχέοντα καὶ ὅσα τοιαῦτα ἀπεργαζόμενα.
λόγον δὲ οὐδένα οὐδὲ νοῦν εἰς οὐδὲν δυνατὰ ἔχειν ἐστί.
- 4 wv ? » / ~ / /
τῶν yap ὄντων ᾧ νοῦν μόνῳ κτᾶσθαι προσήκει, λεκτέον
A δὲ »" A δὲ \ “ὃ \ A \
ψυχήν' τοῦτο δὲ ἀόρατον, πῦρ δὲ καὶ ὕδωρ καὶ γῆ καὶ
e “
ἀὴρ σώματα πάντα ὁρατὰ γέγονε. τὸν δὲ νοῦ καὶ ἐπιστή-
» \ > / \ lel Γ᾽ / 5. 4
Epuns ἐραστὴν ἀνάγκη Tas τῆς ἐμῴρονος φύσεως αἰτίας
47
, ἥ ¢ \ we? ” \ ‘
πρώτας μεταδιώκειν, ὅσαι δὲ ὑπ᾽ ἄλλων μὲν κινουμένων,
“ > > > 7 4 7 /
ἕτερα δ᾽ ἐξ ἀνάγκης κινούντων γίγνονται, δευτέρας.
/ \ \ la) \ ee / \ > /
ποιητέον δὴ κατὰ ταῦτα Kal ἡμῖν. λεκτέα μὲν ἀμφότερα
\ “ > “ / \ \ ee rn la \
Ta TOV αἰτιῶν γένη, χωρὶς δὲ ὅσαι μετὰ νοῦ καλῶν καὶ
᾽ a \ Ν “ἤ a / \
ἀγαθῶν Snutovpyoi Kat ὅσαι μονωθεῖσαι φρονήσεως τὸ
\ ” ae. > , \ > a
τυχὸν ἄτακτον ἑκάστοτε ἐξεργάζονται. Ta μὲν οὖν τῶν
> / / Ν \ » \ / “A
ὀμμάτων ξυμμεταίτια πρὸς τὸ ἔχειν τὴν δύναμιν, ἣν νῦν
lal >
εἴληχεν, εἰρήσθω: τὸ δὲ μέγιστον αὐτῶν εἰς ὠφέλειαν
Μ 5. oe Ν ¥ Δ᾽ δὰ δὰ ’ \ A ς /
ἔργον, dv ὃ θεὸς αὔθ ἡμῖν δεδώρηται, μετὰ τοῦτο ῥητέον.
Μ \ \ \ | ed. / 3. ol / > /
ὄψις δὴ κατὰ τὸν ἐμὸν λόγον αἰτία τῆς μεγίστης ὠφελείας
/ Cc oA a - / \ a \
γέγονεν ἡμῖν, OTL τῶν νῦν λογων περὶ τοῦ παντὸς λεγο-
/ > \ ” >’ / / ΝΜ / [4 /
μένων οὐδεὶς av ποτε ἐρρήθη μήτε ἄστρα μήτε ἥλιον μήτε
Ν / a / lal YER
οὐρανὸν ἰδόντων. viv δ᾽ ἡμέρα τε καὶ νὺξ ὀφθεῖσαι paves
\ > “ / / \ > / /
τε Kal ἐνιαυτῶν περίοδοι μεμηχάνηνται μὲν ἀριθμὸν, χρόνου
\ ΕΣ / »" lal \ / / μ
δὲ ἔννοιαν περί τε τῆς τοῦ παντὸς φύσεως ζήτησιν ἔδοσαν"
a \
ἐξ ὧν ἐπορισάμεθα φιλοσοφίας γένος, οὗ μεῖζον ἀγαθὸν
| 4 wa” “' \ A a / \ >
οὔτ ἦλθεν οὔθ᾽ ἥξει ποτὲ τῷ θνητᾷ γένει δωρηθὲν ἐκ
ω ε / °
θεῶν. λέγω δὴ τοῦτο ὀμμάτων μέγιστον ἀγαθὸν. Tara
΄ - e \ /
δέ, ὅσα ἐλάττω, Ti ἂν ὑμνοῖμεν; ὧν ὁ μὴ φιλόσοφος
a /
τυφλωθεὶς ὀδυρόμενος ἂν Opnvot μάτην. ἀλλὰ τούτου
΄ lal e - > Γ Ν ¢ A
λεγέσθω παρ᾽ ἡμῶν αὕτη ἐπὶ ταῦτα αἰτία, θεὸν ἡμῖν
Ὁ" 7 > a la a
ἀνευρεῖν δωρήσασθαί τε ὄψιν, ἵνα τὰς ἐν οὐρανῷ τοῦ νοῦ
κατιδόντες περιόδους χρησαίμεθα ἐπὶ τὰς περιφορὰς τὰς
THE 7IMALUS 285
that they are not auxiliary causes, but true causes which, by
cooling and heating, and thickening and thinning, and the
like, do produce all things. And yet these operations can in
no wise have in them understanding or design of aught; for
of things which be, unto one alone it belongeth to have
understanding, and that one, let it be declared, is Soul; which
is invisible; but Fire and Water and Earth and Air all are
visible creatures. Wherefore the lover of understanding and
knowledge must first follow after those causes which appertain
unto the Intelligible World, and then, secondly, after those
which are made manifest when one thing, being moved,
moveth another thing of necessity.
This, then, must we also do, speaking concerning both
kinds, but making separation between those causes which
with understanding are artificers of things fair and good, and
those which without knowledge produce disorderly what
chanceth at any time. Concerning the auxiliary causes
which helped to give unto eyes that faculty which they now
have, enough hath been said; now, therefore, let us declare
that benefit wrought by eyes—great above all benefits—for
whose sake God bestowed them upon us.
Eyesight, methinks, hath been the cause unto us of the
greatest benefit, inasmuch as no word of our present discourse
concerning the Universe would have been spoken, if we had
seen neither stars nor sun nor heavens: whereas now day and
night and the months and the circuits of the years, passing
before our eyes, have discovered unto us Number, and given
unto us a notion of Time, and set us a-seeking to know the
nature of the All: whence we have gotten us Philosophy,
than which no greater good hath come, nor ever shall come, as
gift from gods unto mortal kind.
I say, then, that this is the greatest good from eyes; and
the other benefits therefrom which are all less than this,
wherefore should I recount them? Let the man who is
without Philosophy break out into vain lamentations, because,
forsooth, he is blind and hath not these small things: as for
ourselves, we will declare the cause of vision in this wise and
the chief end thereof :—God invented vision and gave it unto
us for a gift, to the end that, having observed the Circuits of
Intelligence in the Heaven, we might use them for the revolu-
286 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
a val ΄ - /
σ τῆς map ἡμῖν διανοήσεως, ξυγγενεῖς ἐκείναις οὔσας, ata-
i : ἐκμαθό δὲ καὶ δ ἢ ὴ
ράκτοις τεταραγμένας, ἐκμαθόντες δὲ καὶ λογισμῶν κατὰ
7 5] / / / \ a -
φύσιν ὀρθότητος μετασχόντες μιμούμενον. τὰς τοῦ θεοῦ
/ > a » \ > cre /
πάντως ἀπλανεῖς οὔσας Tas ἐν ἡμῖν πεπλανημένας κατα-
/ a \ \ > A / / e B+ %
στησαίμεθα. Φωνῆς te δὴ Kal ἀκοῆς πέρι πάλιν ὁ αὐτὸς
/ ᾳ. αὶ > \ a > aA “ \ a a
λόγος, ἐπὶ ταὐτὰ τῶν αὐτῶν ἕνεκα παρὰ θεῶν δεδωρῆσθαι.
/ \ 9 3 5. ἃ a / \ /
λόγος Te γὰρ ἐπ αὐτὰ ταῦτα τέτακται, τὴν μεγίστην
/ nr » a ΄
ξυμβαλλόμενος εἰς αὐτὰ μοῖραν, ὅσον T αὖ μουσικῆς φωνῇ
/ \ > \ 4 ς I > \ / ς \
Ὁ χρήσιμον, πρὸς ἀκοὴν ἕνεκα ἁρμονίας ἐστὶ δοθέν: ἡ δὲ
ς / a 4 \ a > SLA. a a
ἁρμονία, ξυγγενεῖς ἔχουσα φορὰς ταῖς ἐν ἡμῖν τῆς ψυχῆς
, A \ a / / > 2s 1s \
περιόδοις, τῷ μετὰ νοῦ προσχρωμένῳ Μούσαις οὐκ ἐφ᾽ ἡδονὴν
ν , 7) a 53 a / > ? ae \
ἄλογον, καθάπερ νῦν, εἶναι δοκεῖ χρήσιμος, ἀλλ ἐπὶ τὴν
a > ἣν ioe > / n / >
γεγονυῖαν ἐν ἡμῖν ἀνάρμοστον ψυχῆς περίοδον εἰς KaTa-
, \ / 4 A / ς Ν al
Koopnow Kal συμφωνίαν ἑαυτῇ σύμμαχος ὑπὸ Μουσῶν
δέδ \ ς \ = ὃ \ \ ” ᾽ Φ δ Ν
ἔδοται' καὶ ῥυθμὸς av διὰ τὴν ἄμετρον ἐν ἡμῖν καὶ
/ 2 n / > a / Ψ > /
E χαρίτων érided γιγνομένην ἐν τοῖς πλείστοις ἕξιν ἐπίκουρος
ΣΝ Ἦν Vi ἘᾺΝΝ aA $M “0 "
ἐπὶ ταὐτὰ ὑπὸ τῶν αὐτῶν ἐδόθη.
/ a
Ta μὲν οὖν παρεληλυθότα τῶν εἰρημένων, πλὴν
βραχέων, ἐπιδέδεικται τὰ διὰ νοῦ δεδημιουργημένα" δεῖ δὲ
ὶ τὰ δι ἀνάγκ όμενα τῴ λόγῳ θέσθ
καὶ τὰ δι ἀνάγκης γιυγνόμεν ι ὄγῳ παραθέσθαι.
7, \ 5 e a a / / > ᾽ ΄
48 μεμυγμένη γὰρ οὖν ἡ τοῦδε τοῦ κόσμου γένεσις ἐξ ἀνάγκης
Ἁ “ / > / lal \ 3 / ”
τε καὶ νοῦ συστάσεως ἐγεννήθη: vod δὲ ἀνάγκης ἄρχοντος
A / wy Ὰ fal / \ a + \
τῷ πείθειν αὐτὴν τῶν γιγνομένων τὰ πλεῖστα ἐπὶ TO
, ” , \ Aan > ey ec
βέλτιστον ἄγειν, ταύτῃ κατὰ ταῦτά τε δι᾿ ἀνάγκης ἡττω-
͵ὔ ς \ nr ” e ᾽ > \ /
μένης ὑπὸ πειθοῦς ἔμφρονος οὕτω Kat ἀρχὰς ξυνίστατο
/ \ an y S Φ 4 \ a 4 > -
τόδε τὸ πᾶν. εἴ τις οὖν 7) γέγονε, κατὰ ταῦτα ὄντως ἐρεῖ,
7 \ \ A / εἰ » / /
μικτέον Kal τὸ τῆς πλανωμένης εἶδος αἰτίας, f φέρειν
πέφυκεν. ὧδε οὖν πάλιν ἀναχωρητέον, καὶ λαβοῦσιν
ae, / , a > \ - ς ,
Β αὐτῶν τούτων προσήκουσαν ἑτέραν ἀρχὴν αὖθις αὖ, καθάπερ
Η κι , a “ Ν , 7, > / eS
περὶ τῶν τότε, νῦν οὕτω περὶ τούτων πάλιν ἀρκτέον ἀπ
ἀρχῆς. τὴν δὴ πρὸ τῆς οὐρανοῦ γενέσεως πυρὸς ὕδατός
᾿
ΤῊΝ 7/MAERUS 281
tions of Thought in ourselves, which are kin, albeit perturbed,
unto those unperturbed celestial courses ; and having throughly
learnt and become partakers in the truth of the reasonings
which are according to nature, might, by means of our imita-
tion of the Circuits of God which are without error altogether,
compose into order the circuits in ourselves which have erred.
Concerning Sound and Hearing let the same thing be said
—that they also have been bestowed by the Gods to the same
end as Sight. For to this end also hath Speech been ordained,
and maketh thereto the largest contribution ; and, moreover,
all that part of Music which is for the service of the Voice and
Hearing hath been given unto us for the sake of Harmony ; and
Harmony, having her courses kin unto the revolutions in our
Soul, hath been given by the Muses to be a helper unto the man
who, with understanding, shall use their art, not for the getting
of unreasonable pleasure—which is commonly esteemed the use
of Music—but for the ordering of the circuit of our Soul which
hath fallen out of harmony, and the bringing thereof into
concord with itself; and Rhythm also, because that the state of
most men is without measure and lacketh grace, hath been
given unto us for the same end, to aid us, by the same
Benefactors.
Hitherto hath this discourse been for the most part con-
cerning those things which are of the workmanship of Reason ;
but now must it set by the side of these that which cometh
to pass of Necessity; for, in truth, the generation of this
Universe was a mixed generation, sprung from the concurrence
of Necessity and Reason.
Reason exercised authority over Necessity by persuading
her to bring the most part of the things which were made unto
the Best Issue. According to this scheme, in the beginning,
was the Universe established through the instrumentality of
Necessity working in obedience unto the admonition of Wisdom.
If any man, therefore, would tell truly how this Universe is
come into being, he must include the natural operation of the
Cause Errant.’ Let us then turn back, and, having taken up
this other proper principle of things created, begin again from
the beginning, even as we began the former inquiry.
Wherefore let us search out the natures of Fire and
1 [ have adopted this translation of ἡ πλανωμένη αἰτία from Mr. Archer-Hind.
288 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
\ y \ a , / δὶ “Οἱ, \ \ \
τε Kal ἀέρος Kal γῆς φύσιν θεατέον αὐτὴν καὶ τὰ πρὸ
/ /
τούτου πάθη.
ΕΣ * * * * *
“ Ss \ ’ > \ / la) > / »Μ
69Β ὥσπερ οὖν καὶ κατ᾽ ἀρχὰς ἐλέχθη, ταῦτα ἀτάκτως ἔχοντα
ς val \ \ \ \
ὁ θεὸς ἐν ἑκάστῳ τε αὐτῷ πρὸς αὑτὸ Kal πρὸς ἄλληλα
\ Ψ Ν
συμμετρίας ἐνεποίησεν, ὅσας τε καὶ ὅπῃ δυνατὸν ἣν
᾽ / \ / 3 / \ ” 4 «
ἀνάλογα καὶ σύμμετρα εἶναι. τότε γὰρ οὔτε τούτων ὅσον
- > lal lal
μὴ τύχῃ TL μετεῖχεν, οὔτε TO παράπαν ὀνομάσαι τῶν νῦν
> / > / 3 >Q/ Φ rn \ e \
ὀνομαζομένων ἀξιόλογον ἦν οὐδέν, οἷον πῦρ καὶ ὕδωρ καὶ
yA an ΄σ -“ /
Cel τι TOV ἄλλων, ἀλλὰ πάντα ταῦτα πρῶτον διεκόσμησεν,
», > 2 ΄ A / / “- ἃ al Μ
ἔπειτ᾽ ἐκ τούτων πᾶν τόδε ξυνεστήσατο, ζῶον ἕν ζῶα ἔχον
\ / 2 ς A \ 2 / / \ A \ /
τὰ πάντα ἐν αὑτῷ θνητὰ ἀθάνατά τε. καὶ τῶν μὲν θείων
/ ἴω fal \ / ~
αὐτὸς γίγνεται δημιουργός, τῶν δὲ θνητῶν τὴν γένεσιν τοῖς
A a / ¢e \ /
ἑαυτοῦ γεννήμασι δημιουργεῖν προσέταξεν. οἱ δὲ μιμούμενοι,
/ > \ na > / \ \ lal
παραλαβόντες ἀρχὴν ψυχῆς ἀθάνατον, τὸ μετὰ τοῦτο
a a / a a
θνητὸν σῶμα αὐτῇ περιετόρνευσαν ὄχημά τε πᾶν TO σῶμα
A a / \
ἔδοσαν ἄλλο τε εἶδος ἐν αὐτῷ ψυχῆς προσῳκοδόμουν τὸ
"-" a /
θνητόν, δεινὰ καὶ ἀναγκαῖα ἐν ἑαυτῷ παθήματα ἔχον,
a \ ς / / a / ΝΜ 4
Ὁ πρῶτον μὲν ἡδονήν, μέγιστον κακοῦ δέλεαρ, ἔπειτα λύπας,
rn ’
ἀγαθῶν φυγάς, ἔτι δ᾽ αὖ θάρρος καὶ φόβον, ἄφρονε
\ 4 / ,’
ξυμβούλω, θυμὸν δὲ δυσπαραμύθητον, ἐλπίδα δ᾽ εὐπαράγω-
/ fol \
γον αἰσθήσει τε ἀλόγῳ Kal ἐπιχειρητῇ παντὸς ἔρωτι"
> \
ξυγκερασάμενοί τ᾽ αὐτὰ ἀναγκαίως τὸ θνητὸν γένος
, \ \ an \ / / \ an
ξυνέθεσαν. καὶ διὰ ταῦτα δὴ σεβόμενοι μιαίνειν τὸ θεῖον,
΄ rn / /
6 τι μὴ πᾶσα tw ἀνάγκη, χωρὶς ἐκείνου κατοικίζουσιν εἰς
a / \
Ε ἄλλην τοῦ σώματος οἴκησιν τὸ θνητόν, ἰσθμὸν Kal ὅρον
/ "»" a \ lal / > /
διοικοδομήσαντες τῆς Te κεφαλῆς καὶ τοῦ στήθους, αὐχένα
\ / / y / ᾽ \ a / \
μεταξὺ τιθέντες, ἵνα εἴη χωρίς. ἐν δὴ τοῖς στήθεσι καὶ
5 καλουμένῳ θώ ὁ τῆς ψυχῆς θνητὸν γένος ἐνέδου
τῷ καλουμένῳ θώρακι τὸ τῆς ψυχῆς θνητὸν γένος ἐνέδουν.
\ > \ \ \ Μ > na \ \ a >, /
καὶ ἐπειδὴ TO μὲν ἄμεινον αὐτῆς, TO δὲ χεῖρον ἐπεφύκει,
rn rn ΄ Ν / /
70 διοικοδομοῦσι τοῦ θώρακος av τὸ κύτος, διορίζοντες οἷον
a \ \ ᾽ a] y \ /
γυναικῶν, τὴν δὲ ἀνδρῶν χωρὶς οἴκησιν, τὰς φρένας
ΤῊΝ 7IMAEUS 289
Water and Air and Karth, which were before the Heaven was
brought forth; and also the state which was before these
natures themselves were.
* * 4 ᾿ %
Χ ¥ * x ᾿
As was said at the beginning, these things, being without
order, God took, and put into them all those measures of
Proportion and Symmetry whereof they were capable, each
one in respect of itself, and all in respect of one another.
For before that there was nothing which partook of these
measures save by chance; nor was there any of the things
which now have names which was then worthy at all of
being named, neither Fire nor Water nor any of the
other Elements; but all these did He first set in order,
and then out of them instituted this Universe, One Living
Creature, which hath in itself all living creatures mortal and
immortal. Of those which are divine He himself is the
Maker; but the creation of those which are mortal He
appointed unto His own offspring, to be their work; and they
following His example, when they had received of Him the
immortal principle of the Soul, thereafter fashioned round
about her this mortal Body, and gave it all unto her to be
her vehicle; and, moreover, they constructed another kind of
Soul, and put it also into the Body, to wit the Mortal Soul
which hath in itself passions terrible, of necessity inherent—
first, Pleasure, evil’s best bait, then Pains that banish good
things, also Confidence and Fear, two heedless counsellors, and
Wrath hard to entreat, and Hope easily led astray. These
did they mix with Sense that lacketh Reason, and Love that
dareth all, and so builded the mortal kind of Soul.
Wherefore, fearing to defile the divine more than was
inevitable, they appoint a dwelling-place for the mortal apart
therefrom, in another region of the body, having built an
isthmus and boundary between the Head and the Breast, to
wit, the Neck, set between them that they might be separate.
In the Breast, then, or what is called the Chest, they enclosed
the mortal kind of Soul; and inasmuch as one part thereof
was by nature better, and the other part worse, they also
built a wall of partition to divide the vessel of the Chest, as
a house is divided into the women’s quarters and the men’s
U
290 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
, fal / \ /
διάφραγμα εἰς TO μέσον αὐτῶν τιθέντες. TO μετέχον οὖν
A A > / \ n , " /
τῆς ψυχῆς ἀνδρείας καὶ θυμοῦ, φιλόνεικον ὄν, κατῴκισαν
᾽ / A a \ a a \ > /
ἐγγυτέρω τῆς κεφαλῆς μεταξὺ τῶν φρενῶν Te καὶ αὐχένος,
i Ὁ λόγου κατήκοον ὃν κοινῇ μετ᾽ ἐκείνου Bia TO τῶ
ἵνα τοῦ OY n 7 μ , τῶν
> -" 7ὔ 7 ¢e | ee > a > / -" >
ἐπιθυμιῶν κατέχοι γένος, OTOT ἐκ τῆς ἀκροπόλεως τῷ τ
ἐπιτώγματι καὶ λόγῳ μηδαμῇ πείθεσθαι ἑκὸν ἐθέλοι. Τὴν
B δὲ δὴ καρδίαν ἀρχὴν ἅμα τῶν φλεβῶν καὶ πηγὴν τοῦ
11
/ \ / \ / a / >
περιφερομένου κατὰ πάντα Ta μέλη σφοδρῶς αἵματος εἰς
\ \ ¥ / 4 Ὁ / \
τὴν δορυφορικὴν οἴκησιν κατέστησαν, ἵνα, ὅτε ζέσειε τὸ
lal a / - / , σ΄ 16
TOU θυμοῦ μένος, τοῦ λόγου παραγγείλαντος, ὡς TLS ἄδικος
\ Loe / n » x / 2 \ a
περὶ αὐτὰ γίγνεται πρᾶξις ἔξωθεν ἢ Kal τις ἀπὸ τῶν
» > fa) 2 / \ / la a “
ἔνδοθεν ἐπιθυμιῶν, ὀξέως διὰ πάντων στενωπῶν πᾶν, ὅσον
Ἂς a a / \
αἰσθητικὸν ἐν τῷ σώματι TOV TE παρακελεύσεων καὶ ἀπει-
a > / / 3 / \ 4 / \
λῶν αἰσθανόμενον γίγνοιτο ἐπήκοον Kai ἕποιτο πάντη Kal
Ν , ec > 3 al a ες “- 5.
τὸ βέλτιστον οὕτως ἐν αὐτοῖς πᾶσιν ἡγεμονεῖν Ea.
* * * * * ae
Ν \ fal \ a “-
Τὸ δὲ δὴ σίτων τε καὶ ποτῶν ἐπιθυμητικὸν τῆς ψυχῆς
νι 2 + \ \ a , 7 / a
καὶ ὅσων ἔνδειαν διὰ THY τοῦ σώματος ἴσχει φύσιν, τοῦτο
> \ \ n a \ lal \ \ ’ \
εἰς Ta μεταξὺ τῶν τε φρενῶν καὶ τοῦ πρὸς τὸν ὀμφαλὸν
δ / lal /
ὅρου κατῴκισαν, οἷον φάτνην ἐν ἅπαντι τούτῳ τῷ τόπῳ
a a a / \
τῇ τοῦ σώματος τροφῇ τεκτηνάμενοι' Kal κατέδησαν δὴ TO
a > rn e / » / \ /
τοιοῦτον ἐνταῦθα ws θρέμμα ἄγριον, τρέφειν δὲ ξυνημμένον
> a »” / \ Ν ΝΜ / 7?
ἀναγκαῖον, εἴπερ Te μέλλοι TO θνητὸν ἔσεσθαι γένος. ἵν
/ \ rn
οὖν ἀεὶ νεμόμενον πρὸς φάτνῃ καὶ 6 TL πορρωτάτω τοῦ
al U /
βουλευομένου κατοικοῦν, θόρυβον καὶ βοὴν ὡς ἐλαχίστην
\ > / “ a A
παρέχον, TO κράτιστον καθ᾽ ἡσυχίαν περὶ τοῦ πᾶσι κοινῇ
a 4 fal an
ξυμφέροντος ἐῷ βουλεύεσθαι, διὰ ταῦτα ἐνταῦθ᾽ ἔδοσαν
> A \ 7 γι ἢ \ > + ς / \ ”
αὐτῷ τὴν τάξιν. εἰδότες δὲ αὐτὸ ὡς λόγου μὲν οὔτε
» ᾽ / \ \ al
ξυνήσειν ἔμελλεν, εἴ TE TH Kal μεταλαμβάνοι τινὸς ad τῶν
> / > 4 ᾽ a \ / a ”
αἰσθήσεων, οὐκ ἔμφυτον αὐτῷ TO μέλειν τινῶν ἔσοιτο
/ t \ \ > / \ / / \
λόγων, ὑπὸ δὲ εἰδώλων Kal φαντασμάτων νυκτός τε Kal
᾽ ¢ / / / / \ \ 2
μεθ᾽ ἡμέραν μάλιστα ψυχαγωγήσοιτο, τούτῳ δὴ θεὸς ἐπι-
βουλεύσας αὐτῴ τὴν τοῦ ἥπατος ἰδέαν ξυνέστησ ὶ
φ τὴ ἥ ΕΝ τησε καὶ
ΤῊΝ 7TIMALUS 29]
quarters ; so did they put the Midriff as a barrier betwixt these
two parts.
That part of the Soul, therefore, which partaketh of
courage and spirit, loving strife, they established nearer unto
the Head, betwixt the Midriff and the Neck, to the end that,
being within hearing of the Reasoning Part, it might, to-
gether with it, keep down the brood of appetites by force,
when they would not obey the word of command from the
castle; and the Heart, which is the knot of the veins and the
fountain of the blood which floweth everywhere mightily
through all the members, they set to be the guardhouse, so
that when the fierceness of wrath boileth, what time Reason
doth pass the word that some wickedness is being done around
them without, or haply by the Appetites within, then the
whole sensitive system of the Body, keenly apprehending
through all the narrow passages thereof the exhortations and
threats uttered, should become obedient and tractable alto-
gether, and so should let the Best Part be the leader of
them all,
* * * * * *
As for that part of the Soul which desireth meat and drink
and the other things which it needeth by reason of the nature
of the Body, this they established in the region which lieth
between the Midriff and the borders of the Navel, having
framed, as it were, a manger to extend throughout all this
place for the nourishment of the Body. Here they bound this
part of the Soul like a wild beast which nevertheless must
be kept joined unto the rest and reared, if there was to be a
mortal race at all. Accordingly, that, always feeding at the
manger and dwelling as far as possible from the part which
taketh counsel, it might raise as little tumult and uproar as
possible, and let the Chief Part take counsel in peace concern-
ing the common good, for this cause did they post it here.
And knowing this concerning it that it would not be able to
understand Reason, and that even if it attained somehow unto
some empiric knowledge of reasonable truths, it was not of
such a nature as to give heed thereto, but for the most part
would follow the ghostly conduct of Images and Phantasms by
night and by day, God sought out a device against this, and
put the Liver close by the dwelling-place of the Appetitive
292 THE MYTHS OF PLATO ;
» > \ ] / / \ \ a \
Β ἔθηκεν εἰς τὴν ἐκείνου κατοίκησιν, πυκνὸν Kal λεῖον καὶ
Ν \ \ /
λαμπρὸν Kal γλυκὺ Kal πικρότητα ἔχον μηχανησάμενος,
lal lal / fal na
iva ἐν αὐτῷ τῶν διανοημάτων ἡ ἐκ τοῦ νοῦ φερομένη
/ / / “-“
δύναμις, οἷον ἐν κατόπτρῳ δεχομένῳ τύπους καὶ κατιδεῖν
v / lal \ / e / “
εἴδωλα παρέχοντι, φοβοῦ μὲν αὐτὸ, ὁπότε μέρει τῆς
/ / n \ a lal
πικρότητος χρωμένη ξυγγενεῖ χαλεπὴ προσενεχθεῖσα ἀπειλῇ
- lal > / \ e
κατὰ πᾶν ὑπομιγνῦσα ὀξέως τὸ ἧπαρ χολώδη χρώματα
rn \ \ \ lal
Céudaivor, ξυνάγουσά τε πᾶν ῥυσὸν καὶ τραχὺ ποιοῖ, λοβὸν
/ \ \ 2 n
δὲ καὶ δοχὰς πύλας τε Ta μὲν ἐξ ὀρθοῦ κατακάμπτουσα
\ a \ δὲ > / / 7 /
καὶ ξυσπῶσα, Ta δὲ ἐμφράττουσα συγκλείουσά τε, λύπας
/ ed 9 /
καὶ doas παρέχοι, Kal OT αὖ τἀναντία φάσματα ἀπο-
a / / / n
ζωγραφοῖ mpaotntos tis ἐκ διανοίας ἐπίπνοια, τῆς μὲν
/ / a / a /
πικρότητος ἡσυχίαν παρέχουσα TH μήτε κινεῖν μήτε προσ-
7 fal ? / ς A / 2 7 rt \
ἄπτεσθαι τῆς ἐναντίας ἑαυτῇ φύσεως ἐθέλειν, γλυκύτητι δὲ
ΩΝ a / \ \ /
τῇ Kat ἐκεῖνο ξυμφύτῳ πρὸς αὐτὸ χρωμένη Kal πάντα
> \ & lal > fa) \ ᾽ / ᾽ / 0 ’ὔ
Ὁ ὀρθὰ καὶ λεῖα αὐτοῦ καὶ ἐλεύθερα ἀπευθύνουσα ἵλεών τε
/ ral Ἁ \ \ ra al
Kal εὐήμερον ποιοῦ τὴν Tepl TO ἧπαρ Ψυχῆς μοῖραν
/ " \ /
κατῳκισμένην, EV TE TH νυκτὶ διαγωγὴν ἔχουσαν μετρίαν,
> / /
ντεία χρωμένην καθ᾽ ὕπνον, ἐπειδὴ λόγου Kal φρονήσεως
᾿ / \ \
> an nm an > nn e
οὐ μετεῖχε. μεμνημένοι yap τῆς τοῦ πατρὸς ἐπιστολῆς οἱ
cal a \ \ /
ξυνιστάντες ἡμᾶς, OTe TO θνητὸν ἐπέστελλε γένος ὡς
/ ~ iy \ -
ἄριστον εἰς δύναμιν ποιεῖν, οὕτω δὴ κατορθοῦντες καὶ τὸ
ral “ “, 7
Ἑ φαῦλον ἡμῶν, ἵνα ἀληθείας πῃ προσάπτοιτο, κατέστησαν
Ν n
ἐν τούτῳ TO μαντεῖον.
k * * * * *
“4 an an a
89Ε καθάπερ εἴπομεν πολλάκις, OTL τρία τριχῇ ψυχῆς ἐν ἡμῖν
/
εἴδη κατῴκισται, τυγχάνει δὲ ἕκαστον κινήσεις ἔχον, οὕτω
\ ΄-“ \
κατὰ ταὐτὰ Kal νῦν ws διὰ βραχυτάτων ῥητέον, ὅτι TO
la) / “ rn /
μὲν αὐτῶν ἐν ἀργίᾳ διάγον καὶ τῶν ἑαυτοῦ κινήσεων
, / >
ἡσυχίαν ἄγον ἀσθενέστατον ἀνάγκη γίγνεσθαι, τὸ δ᾽ ἐν
/ \ ΝΜ
90 γυμνασίοις ἐρρωμενέστατον: διὸ φυλακτέον, ὅπως ἂν ἔχωσι
\ / \ » 7 Ν \ A
Tas κινήσεις πρὸς ἄλληλα συμμέτρους. τὸ δὲ περὶ τοῦ
κυριωτάτου tap ἡμῖν ψυχῆς εἴδους διανοεῖσθαι δεῖ τῇδε,
΄ ” ps / \ e / / a ἃ /
ὡς dpa αὐτὸ δαίμονα θεὸς ἑκάστῳ δέδωκε, τοῦτο ὃ δή
an nr 3 , A \ \ \
φαμεν οἰκεῖν μὲν ἡμῶν ἐπ ἄκρῳ τῷ σώματι, πρὸς δὲ τὴν
᾽ > lal / ᾽ \ A ξ a v r v \
ἐν οὐρανῷ Evyyéverav ἀπὸ γῆς ἡμᾶς αἴρειν ws ὄντας φυτὸν
> y > \ > / ᾽ / / > “Ὁ
οὐκ eyyelov, ἀλλὰ οὐράνιον, ὀρθότατα λέγοντες " ἐκεῖθεν
7 “ id / a a / Μ \ a \
Bydp, ὅθεν ἡ πρώτη τῆς ψυχῆς γένεσις ἔφυ, TO θεῖον τὴν
΄ a > al al \ A
κεφαλὴν καὶ ῥίζαν ἡμῶν ἀνακρεμαννὺν ὀρθοῖ πᾶν τὸ σῶμα.
- Ν 2 \ \ > , ᾿ \ ,
τῷ μὲν οὖν περὶ τὰς ἐπιθυμίας ἢ περὶ φιλονεικίας τετεὺ
'
THE 7IMALUS 293
Soul, having fashioned it close and smooth and shining and
sweet and bitter too, so that the thoughts which come from
the Intelligence, striking upon it as upon a mirror which
receiveth impressions and causeth images to be seen, might
fill the Appetitive Soul, at one time, with fear, ... at
another time might make it mild and gentle, and give unto
it a space of calm at night, wherein it should receive the
Oracles of Dreams, meet for that which is without Reason and
Understanding ; for they who made us were mindful of that
which their Father spake, commanding them to make the
mortal race as perfect as possible; therefore did they regulate
even the base part of us after this wise, that it might lay
hold of truth somehow, and therefore did they establish a
Place of Oracles therein.
Now, as touching the three sorts of Soul implanted in us,
whereof we have: oft-times spoken, and the proper motions of
each, let this be now said shortly, that any one of them
which continueth in abeyance, having her motions stopped,
must needs become weaker; but any one which exerciseth
herself becometh stronger. Wherefore we must take heed
that they all, in regard to one another, have their motions
accomplished in due measure.
But as touching that kind of Soul in us which hath
most authority, let this be understood, that God hath given
it unto each man to be his Genius, to wit, that Soul which,
we say, dwelleth in the topmost part of the Body, and lifteth
us up from Earth towards our birthplace in the Heaven,
forasmuch as we are not earthly creatures but heavenly: this
we say, and most truly say; for from that Place whence the
Soul first sprang the Divine Principle suspendeth our head
and root, and so causeth the whole Body to stand upright.
Wherefore if any man have followed after the lusts of the
294 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
; - cr / / \ /
τακότι καὶ ταῦτα διαπονοῦντι σφόδρα πάντα τὰ δόγματα
? / \ > / ὶ / θ᾽ “
ἀνάγκη θνητὰ ἐγγεγονέναι, καὶ παντάπασι κα ὅσον
\ a / /
μάλιστα δυνατὸν θνητῷ γίγνεσθαι, τούτου μηδὲ σμικρὸν
[2 ἴω “A /
ἐλλείπειν, ἅτε TO τοιοῦτον NYENKOTL: τῷ δὲ περὶ φιλομαθίαν
.«
\ \ \ ᾽ θ -» / > ὃ / \ al
καὶ περὶ τὰς ἀληθεῖς φρονήσεις ἐσπουδακοτε Kai ταῦτα
7 a ς a 7 - \ > / ‘
C μάλιστα TOV αὑτοῦ γεγυμνασμένῳ φρονεῖν μὲν ἀθάνατα Kai
aA ΝΜ > / _ / “ ’ / ,
θεῖα, ἄνπερ ἀληθείας ἐφάπτηται, πᾶσα ἀνάγκη που, καθ
Ψ > 5 A > , 7 > / > ͵
ὅσον δ᾽ αὖ μετασχεῖν ἀνθρωπίνη φύσις ἀθανασίας ἐνδέχεται,
͵ \ / > / ef x 3 Ὁ / \
τούτου μηδὲν μέρος ἀπολείπειν, ἅτε δὲ ἀεὶ θεραπεύοντα τὸ
A » , 4. ὦ, = , \
θεῖον ἔχοντά τε αὐτὸν εὖ κεκοσμημένον Tov δαίμονα
΄, > ς fal / > 4 Ἂν ’
ύνοικον ἐν αὑτῷ διαφερόντως εὐδαίμονα εἶναι. θεραπεία
ce
\ \ \ / / \ > / « / \ \
δὲ 67 παντὶ πάντως pla, Tas οἰκείας ἑκάστῳ τροφὰς καὶ
7 / A ’ a ὔ al >
Ὁ κινήσεις ἀποδιδόναι. τῷ δ ἐν ἡμῖν θείῳ Evyyevets εἰσι
/ e fal \ / \ / /
κινήσεις al τοῦ παντὸς διανοήσεις Kal περιφοραί. ταύταις
\ / va ‘ a \ \ \ / > al
δὴ ξυνεπόμενον ἕκαστον δεῖ, Tas περὶ THY γένεσιν ἐν TH
A lal / al \
κεφαλῇ διεφθαρμένας ἡμῶν περιόδους ἐξορθοῦντα διὰ τὸ
ΩΝ \ \ /
καταμανθάνειν Tas τοῦ παντὸς ἁρμονίας τε καὶ περιφοράς,
rn rn rn \ \
τῷ KaTavoovpév@e TO κατανοοῦν ἐξομοιῶσαι κατὰ τὴν
> / / « / Lis / ” n /
ἀρχαίαν φύσιν, ὁμοιώσαντα δὲ τέλος ἔχειν τοῦ προτεθέντος
2 / ς \ lal Sie ,ὔ / \ /
ἀνθρώποις ὑπὸ θεῶν ἀρίστου βίου πρὸς τε τὸν παρόντα
/
Kal τὸν ἔπειτα χρόνον.
lal n a /
E Kai δὴ καὶ τὰ νῦν ἡμῖν ἐξ ἀρχῆς παραγγελθέντα
-“ \ “ Ν / / > /
διεξελθεῖν περὶ τοῦ παντὸς μέχρι γενέσεως ἀνθρωπίνης
5 ΝΜ a Ga /
σχεδὸν ἔοικε τέλος ἔχειν. τὰ yap ἄλλα ζῶα ἡἣ γέγονεν
= \ / > / “ / > 7 /
av, διὰ βραχέων ἐπιμνηστέον, 6 TL μὴ τις ἀνάγκη μηκύνειν"
oad \ > / / ΩΝ ς A / \ \
οὕτω yap ἐμμετρότερός τις ἂν αὑτῷ δόξειε περὶ τοὺς
7 / 53 acs 5 \ an »” /
τούτων λόγους εἶναι. THO οὖν TO τοιοῦτον ἔστω λεγόμενον.
“-“ a { \ / /
Τῶν γενομένων ἀνδρῶν ὅσοι δειλοὶ καὶ τὸν βίον ἀδίκως
n \ / \ ΠΥ a / > A
διῆλθον, κατὰ λόγον τὸν εἰκότα γυναῖκες μετεφύοντο ἐν τῇ
/ /
δευτέρᾳ γενέσει.
* * * * * *
A \ co - / \
91D γυναῖκες μὲν οὖν καὶ τὸ θῆλυ πᾶν οὕτω γέγονε. To δὲ
oe
THE TIMALUS 295
flesh, or after contention, and busied himself wholly therewith,
all his thoughts within him must needs be mortal, and so far
as it lieth in him to become mortal, he cannot fail at all of
this; for this hath he fostered: but if any man have earnestly
pursued learning and the knowledge of Truth, and have
exercised most his faculty of thinking, he must needs have
thoughts immortal and divine if he lay hold of Truth; and
so far as Human Nature may have part in Immortality, he
cannot fall short thereof at all: and inasmuch as he serveth
the Divine Part, and hath the Genius which dwelleth in him
ordered aright, he must needs be blessed exceedingly:’ and
the service required of every man is the same alway—to wit,
he must apportion unto each part the kind of nourishment
and motion proper thereto. Now unto the Divine Part in us
the motions which are kin are the Thoughts and Circuits of
the All. These must every man follow, that he may regulate
the Revolutions in his Head which were disturbed when the
Soul was born in the flesh; and, by throughly learning the
Harmonies and Circuits of the All, may make that which
understandeth like unto that which is understood, even as it
was in the beginning; and having made it like, may attain
unto the perfection of that Best Life which is offered unto
men by the Gods, for this present time and for the time
hereafter.
Now is the commandment which came unto us in the
beginning, that we should declare the nature of the All, even
unto the generation of Man, well-nigh brought to fulfilment ;
for the way of the generation of the other living creatures
we may tell shortly, if it so be that it needeth no long
history. Thus methinks shall a man set proper bounds unto
his discourse concerning them.
Let this, then, be said, that of those which were born
Men, it is most likely that as many as were cowardly, and
passed their life in unrighteousness, were changed into
Women when they were born the second time.
* κω * ὩΣ * ἝἜ
Thus were Women and the whole female sex brought forth.
1 Cf. Arist. H. N. x. 7. 8.1177 Ὁ 26 ff., and Z. #. Θ 3. (H 15) 1249 Ὁ 20, where
τὸν θεὸν θεραπεύειν καὶ θεωρεῖν seems to be an echo of the Gre δὲ dei θερα-
mevovTa τὸ θεῖον, Tim. 90C.
296 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
τῶν ὀρνέων φῦλον μετερρυθμίζετο, ἀντὶ τριχῶν πτερὰ vor,
> a > 7 > nr / / \ “
eK τῶν ἀκάκων ἀνδρῶν, κούφων δέ, καὶ μετεωρολογικῶν
Ε μέν, ἡγουμένων δὲ δι ὄψεως τὰς περὶ τούτων ἀποδείξεις
92
μ > \
βεβαιοτάτας εἶναι δι’ εὐήθειαν. To δ᾽ αὖ πεζὸν καὶ
a / a ra /
θηριῶδες γέγονεν ἐκ τῶν μηδὲν προσχρωμένων φιλοσοφίᾳ
δὲ 1θ 7] an \ \ > \ 6 / δέ
μηδὲ ἀθρούντων τῆς περὶ τὸν οὐρανὸν φύσεως πέρι μηδέν,
a al val na / \
διὰ TO μηκέτι ταῖς ἐν TH κεφαλῇ χρῆσθαι περιόδοις, ἀλλὰ
A \ \ 7 al - ς / “ /
τοῖς περὶ Ta στήθη τῆς ψυχῆς ἡγεμόσιν ἕπεσθαι μέρεσιν.
An / nr
ἐκ τούτων οὖν τῶν ἐπιτηδευμάτων τά Te ἐμπρόσθια κῶλα
\ \ \ > n ς / id \ / »
καὶ τὰς κεφαλὰς εἰς γῆν ἑλκόμενα ὑπὸ ξυγγενείας ἤρεισαν,
7
προμήκεις τε καὶ παντοίας ἔσχον τὰς κορυφάς, orn
/ ξ Ν 5» 7 «ς / e / /
συνεθλίφθησαν ὑπὸ ἀργίας ἑκάστων ai Tepipopal. τετρά-
\ / > a 5 7] , 4 \ 7
ποὺυν TE TO γένος αὐτῶν ἐκ ταύτης ἐφύετο Kal πολύπουν
τῆς προφάσεως, θεοῦ βάσεις ὑποτιθέντος πλείους τοῖς
rn lal an - >
μᾶλλον ἄφροσιν, ὡς μᾶλλον ἐπὶ γῆν ἕλκοιντο. τοῖς ὃ
n / -“
ἀφρονεστάτοις αὐτῶν τούτων καὶ παντάπασι πρὸς γῆν
“ qn lal /
πᾶν TO σῶμα κατατεινομένοις ὡς οὐδὲν ETL ποδῶν χρείας
” ” > \ \ > 7 ᾿Ὶ \ a > / \
οὔσης, ἄποδα αὐτὰ Kal ἰλυσπώμενα ἐπὶ γῆς ἐγέννησαν. τὸ
δὲ τέταρτον γένος ἔνυδρον γέγονεν ἐκ τῶν μάλιστα ἀνοητο-
/ ἃ ᾽ lal a
τάτων καὶ ἀμαθεστάτων, ods οὐδ᾽ ἀναπνοῆς καθαρᾶς ἔτι
5» / e / id \ \ ς \
ἠξίωσαν ol μεταπλάττοντες, ὡς THY ψυχὴν ὑπὸ πλημμε-
,ὔ > n \
λείας πάσης ἀκαθάρτως ἐχόντων, ἀλλ᾽ ἀντὶ λεπτῆς καὶ
~ nm . | lal
καθαρᾶς ἀναπνοῆς ἀέρος εἰς ὕδατος θολερὰν καὶ βαθεῖαν
"᾿ > / “ > / » \ \ lal ’ /
éwoav ἀνάπνευσιν: ὅθεν ἰχθύων ἔθνος καὶ τὸ τῶν ὀστρέων
/ Ὁ » 7 / > , ᾽ /
ξυναπάντων τε ὅσα ἔνυδρα γέγονε, δίκην ἀμαθίας ἐσχάτης
/ / ral \
ἐσχάτας οἰκήσεις εἰληχότων. καὶ κατὰ ταῦτα δὴ πάντα
/ ΄-“ lal / rn
τότε καὶ νῦν διαμείβεται. τὰ ζῶα εἰς ἄλληλα, VOD Kal
na / \
ἀνοίας ἀποβολῇ Kal κτήσει μεταβαλλόμενα. Kai δὴ καὶ
/ \ a \ ral ” \ / ξ -" rn
τέλος περὶ τοῦ παντὸς νῦν ἤδη τὸν λόγον ἡμῖν φῶμεν
" al \ \
ἔχειν" θνητὰ yap καὶ ἀθάνατα ζῶα λαβὼν καὶ ξυμπληρω-
Ν “ c / “ ΩΝ e \ \ e \ /
θεὶς ὅδε ὁ κόσμος, οὕτω ζῶον ὁρατὸν τὰ ὁρατὰ περιέχον,
" »" / \ ”
εἰκὼν τοῦ ποιητοῦ, θεὸς αἰσθητός, μέγιστος Kal ἄριστος
/ / \ / / > \ “΄
κάλλιστος TE καὶ τελεώτατος γέγονεν, εἷς ovpavos ὅδε
μονογενὴς ὦν.
οι εὐϑϑα»α 2) eS
THE 7TIMALUS 297
The tribe of Birds, putting forth feathers instead of hair,
was the transformation of men that were guileless, but light-
witted ; who were observers of the stars, but thought foolishly
that the surest knowledge concerning them cometh through
Sight.
The tribe of Beasts which walk on the Earth sprang from
those men who sought not Wisdom at all for an help, nor
considered the nature of the Heaven at all, because that they
no longer used the Revolutions in the Head, but followed the
Parts of the Soul which are about the Breast, making them
their guides. By reason of this manner of living their four
limbs and their heads were drawn down unto kindred earth,
and thereon did they rest them; and they got head-pieces of
all sorts, oblong, according as the circuits of each, not being
kept in use, were crushed in. For this cause their kind grew
four-footed and many-footed, for God put more props under
those which were more senseless, that they might be drawn
the more toward the earth. But the most senseless of them
all, which do stretch their whole body altogether upon the
earth, since they had no longer any need of feet, the Gods
made without feet, to crawl on the earth.
The fourth kind was born, to live in the water, from
those men who were the most lacking in Understanding and
Knowledge; whom they who fashioned them afresh deemed
not worthy any more even of pure air to breathe, because that
they had made their Souls impure by all manner of wicked-
ness: wherefore the Gods gave them not thin pure air to
breathe, but thrust them down into the waters, to draw thick
breath in the depths thereof. From these men is sprung the
nation of Fishes, and of Oysters, and of all that live in the
water, which have gotten for recompense of uttermost ignorance
the uttermost habitations.
* * * * ὩΣ *
Now may we say that our discourse concerning the All
is come to its ending. For this Universe, having taken unto
itself Living Creatures mortal and immortal, and having been
filled therewith, hath been brought forth a Creature Visible,
containing the things which are visible; the Image of his
Maker, a God Sensible, Greatest, Best, Fairest, and Most
Perfect—this One Heaven Only Begotten.
298 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
OBSERVATIONS ON THE ΤΊΜΑΕΟΥΒ MYTH
I
It lies outside the scope of this work to select for
separate comment even a few of the most important questions
and topics contained in the vast Zimaeus, related as these
are, not only to Plato’s Philosophy itself as a whole, but to
subsequent Philosophy and Theology and Natural Science as
influenced by this Dialogue, perhaps the most influential of
all Plato’s Dialogues.
I keep clear of the Zimaeus as an Essay on Physics and
Physiology profoundly interesting to the student of the
history of these branches.
I do not wish to ransack it for its anticipations of later
metaphysical doctrine, such as that of the subjectivity of
space, which may, or may not, be taught in the passages
treating of χώρα and the ὑποδοχή.
I do not trouble myself or my readers with the lueubra-
tions of Proclus and his like on it.
I do not say a word about the theological doctrine which
Christian exegesis has found in it in such abundant store.
For these things the reader must turn to editions of the
Timaeus, and Histories of Philosophy where the Zimaeus is
discussed.
Here we are concerned with it merely as one in the series
of Plato’s Myths; and as most of the observations which
have been made in connection with the other Myths already
examined apply equally to this Myth, special observations
on it need not be numerous or long. Indeed, the transla-
tion which I have made, if read in the light of these former
observations, almost explains itself.
More might have been translated, for the whole Discourse
delivered by Timaeus is a Myth; or other parts might have
been substituted for some here translated. I had to use my
judgment in choosing what to translate, as I could not trans-
late the whole, and my judgment may have sometimes erred ;
yet, after all, I venture to think that what I have translated
presents the Zimaeus in the aspect in which it is the object
ΤῊΝ 7IMALUS 299
of this work to present it—as a great Myth in the series
which we are reviewing.
This Myth sets forth, in one vast composition, the three
Ideas of Soul, Cosmos, and God: in one vast composition ;
perhaps nowhere else in literature are they set forth so
as to produce such a convincing sense of their organic inter-
connection. And the impressiveness of this vast composition
is wonderfully enhanced by the context in which it is framed.
Indeed, what is new in the presentation of the Ideas of Soul,
Cosmos, and God in the Zimaeus, as compared with other
Platonic Myths in which they are presented, is derived from
the context in which this Myth frames them. The Zimaeus,
as we have seen, and shall see better when we reach the
Critias, follows on after the Repudlic. It begins with a
recapitulation of the first five books of the Republic, which
Socrates offers in order that he may say: “Here you have
the structure of the Perfect State set forth; now let us see
that State exerting function in accordance with its structure.
Its structure is that of a highly organised military system.
Let us see it engaged in a great war.” In answer to this
demand Critias introduces and outlines the Atlantis Myth
(afterwards resumed in the unfinished Dialogue which bears
his name), the History of the Great Antediluvian War in
which Athens—representing the καλλίπολις of the Republic
—maintains the civilisation of Hellas against the outer
barbarian. That is the immediate context of the Discourse,
or Myth, delivered by Timaeus. But the Myth breaks away
from the sequence of that context in the most startling
manner, and soars, on a sudden, above the mundane outlook
of the first five books of the Republic and the History of the
Great War, with which the company were up to the moment
engaged, and constrains them to give all their thoughts to
the world eternal.
Two things Timaeus seems to tell them in this Myth.
First, the State must be framed in the Cosmos. You
cannot have any scientific knowledge of the Social Good till ᾿
you understand it as part of the Absolute Good realised in
the Cosmos which is the Image of God. The knowledge of
the ἐδέα τἀγαθοῦ which the Republic (in a passage subsequent
to the books epitomised by Socrates in the Zimaeus) requires
300 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
of the True Statesman is, indeed, nothing but the appre-
hension of the Social Good as determined by the Cosmic
Good. The method of the Republic was to write the goodness
of the Individual large in the goodness of the State. But we
must not stop here. The goodness of the State must be
written large in that of the Universe: written, not, indeed,
in characters which the scientific faculty can at last be sure
that it has deciphered, but in the hieroglyphics, as it were,
of a mysterious picture-writing which, although it does not
further definite knowledge, inspires that Wonder which is the
source of Philosophy, that Fear which is the beginning of
Wisdom.
But, secondly, Timaeus goes far beyond the mere recom-
mendation of a study of Cosmology for the sake of the better
realisation of the political end. He tells the company, in this
Myth, that the political end is not the only end which man
may propose to himself. The life of the State and of Man as
member of the State, however it may be ennobled and made
to seem more choice-worthy by being viewed as part of the
blessed life of the One, Only Begotten, Living Creature which
is the express image of God, is nevertheless an end in which
it is impossible to acquiesce. The best-ordered State cannot
escape the Decline and Fall which await all human institu-
tions; and the life of the citizen is incomparably shorter than
that of his earthly city. If Man is to have any abiding end
it must be in a life of the Soul which lies beyond death,
outside the κύκλος τῆς γενέσεως.
To be remembered, and even to be worshipped, by future
generations on earth is an “immortality” which can satisfy
no man; and still less satisfying is the “immortality” of
absorption in the Spirit of the Universe. The only im-
mortality which can satisfy a man, if he can only believe in
it, is a personal life after bodily death, or, it may be, after
many bodily deaths, when he shall return to his “ native star,”
' “In Plato the State, like everything else upon Earth, is essentially related
to the other world, whence all truth and reality spring. This is the ultimate
source of his political idealism. . . . The State, therefore, serves not only for
moral education, but also as a preparation for the higher life of the disembodied
spirit into which a beautiful glimpse is opened to us at the end of the Republic”
(Zeller, Aristotle, ii. 212, Engl. Transl.; cf. Rohde, Psyche, ii. 293). The latter
half of the Republic, as has been pointed out, is not before us in the
Timaeus.
THE TIMALUS 301
and be there for ever what the grace of God and his own
efforts after κάθαρσις have made him,
This third sort of immortality obviously holds the field
against the two other sorts mentioned ; for, first, it is worth
believing, which the second sort, however easy to believe, is
not; and, secondly, it is more worth believing than the first
sort, because it is a true “immortality ’—a personal life for
ever and ever,—whereas the first sort, consisting in the lapsing
memory of the short-lived individuals of a Race itself destined
in time to disappear from the earth, is not a true immortality,
however comforting it may be to look forward to it as a brief
period in the true immortality. Lastly, the third sort of
immortality, being worth believing, is, in addition to that,
easy to believe, because no evidence drawn from the Natural
World can ever be conclusive against it. It is not like a
miracle alleged to have occurred in the Natural World in
opposition to the recognised Laws of that World. No objec-
tive Law of Nature is violated by the personal immortality
of the disembodied Soul. The evidence against it, as for it,
is subjective only. Does belief in personal immortality com-
fort men? If it does, they will be found believing—a few,
fervently, the majority, perhaps, in passive fashion.
So far I have tried to express the thought and feeling
which seem to be in unison with the note of the Zimaeus
Myth. But there is another type of thought and feeling, on
this great subject, which we cannot ignore, although the
Timaeus Myth ignores it entirely. We must remember that
for the Buddhist East personal immortality has little or no
attraction. Final sleep seems to be the ideal for a large
portion of the human race.
It would be foolish, then, to say that belief in personal
immortality is at all a subjective necessity. All that we are
entitled to say is that, as a matter of fact, this belief has
prevailed among the races which hitherto have taken the
lead in the world. Whether or no it is bound to remain
prevalent it is impossible to say. The overworked and the
indolent, in modern Europe, easily acquiesce in—nay, gladly
embrace, the ideal of eternal sleep; and even for some
energetic constructive minds the time comes when they
simply wish to rest from their labours, contented to think,
902 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
or hope, that the mundane system, political, industrial, or
scientific, for which they have worked hard, will continue
to prosper when they are gone. The ideal of work or duty
done is the ideal which, in the West, now competes most
seriously with the ideal of personal immortality :—
5 A Ὁ ΄ , “ a
ὦ ξεῖν ἀγγέλλειν Λακεδαιμονίοις ὅτι τῇδε
κείμεθα τοῖς κείνων ῥήμασι πειθόμενοι.
Π
(Timaeus, 42, and 91 D ff.)
The lower animals were created after (1) man, and (2)
woman, to embody the Souls of human beings who had lived
unrighteously.
Here, as elsewhere in Plato.—in the Phaedrus Myth; in
the Myth of Er; in Phaedo, 81, 82; in Laws, ix. 872 E—
the raison détre of metempsychosis is κόλασις and κάθαρσις,
Correction and Purification—its raison d’étre also in the
Orphic teaching and in Buddhism. But we must not suppose
that belief in metempsychosis is necessarily associated with
the notions of κόλασις and κάθαρσις. Metempsychosis
recommended itself to the imagination of man as Natural
History long before it was used for an ethical purpose.’ The
notion that there is a fixed number of souls always in exist-
ence—perhaps a fixed number of bodies—and that all the
people successively born on earth are dead people who return
from the place of spirits or from their graves, by some law
of nature in the presence of which sexual intercourse has
quite a subordinate place, is a notion which prevails widely
among primitive races, and is entertained merely as an item
of Natural History—as a theory of generation, and has no
ethical import.
Now it seems to me that the difference between men and
beasts which belief in metempsychosis as process of κόλασις
and κάθαρσις makes little of, is one which belief in metem-
psychosis as mode of generation is bound to regard as very
' The ideas of retribution and purification seem to be entirely absent from
Irish transmigration stories: see The Voyage of Bran, by Myer and Nutt,
ii. 96.
THE 7ΖΓᾺΑΙ ΟΝ 303
real. It may conduce to the κάθαρσις of a man’s Soul that
it should be incarnate afterwards in the body of a lion or
a swan; but if mere generation is all that is effected by
metempsychosis it is natural to suppose that the Souls
re-incarnated in one generation of men are those which
appeared on earth in a former generation of men, and will
reappear in some future generation of men. Where a beast
becomes a man or a man a beast, and the change is not con-
ceived as promoting κάθαρσις, we have something exceptional—
not a case of the normal metempsychosis by which the human
race 1s propagated, but rather a case of metamorphosis due to
some particular act of magic, lke Circe’s, or some other
extraordinary cause like that which changed the daughters
of Pandion, one into a nightingale, and the other into a
swallow. The notion of a man’s being able to transform
himself or another man into a beast by magic is as primitive
and as deeply rooted as that of metempsychosis, but in itself
has nothing in common with the notion of metempsychosis.
I would therefore distinguish sharply between belief in
the reappearance, in human bodies, of departed human souls—
or perhaps I ought to say the reappearance of departed human
beings, Soul and Body not being regarded as separate entities
—the normal generative process by which the human race
is maintained on earth, and belief in the sudden bodily trans-
formation, by magic or other cause, of men into beasts and
beasts into men—an exceptional occurrence.
Having distinguished two beliefs which I think ought to
be distinguished, I am ready to admit considerable “con-
tamination” of each by the other, even before the advent of
the notion of κάθαρσις as an end served by re-incarnation of
human Souls, not only in human bodies, but also in the bodies
of beasts.
We see how natural it is that such “contamination ”
should take place, if we consider the mental condition which
expresses itself in the Beast-Fable. It is a state of chronic
dream-consciousness. The Beast-Fable is a dream in which
men and beasts talk and act together; in which the trans-
formation of a man into a beast, or a beast into a man, is
taken as a matter of course; in which beasts, in short, are
at once men and beasts.
904 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
The mental condition which expresses itself in the dream
of the Beast-Fable easily lends itself to belief in bodily trans-
formations of men into beasts, and beasts into men, effected
supernaturally by magicians; or sometimes taking place
naturally, so that one who was a man in a former generation
is born again in this generation as a beast, and may reappear
in a future generation as a man. MHere the originally in-
dependent notions of metempsychosis and metamorphosis
begin to “contaminate” each other. Metamorphosis, which
is properly the supernatural bodily transformation of a man
into a beast, or a beast into a man, appears as the re-birth,
in due natural course, of a beast as a man, or a man as a
beast: metamorphosis has insinuated itself into the place
occupied by metempsychosis, and has become a sort of metem-
psychosis ; while metempsychosis, originally a kind of re-birth
of departed human beings as human beings, now includes the
notion of departed human beings reappearing in new births
as beasts, and of beasts as human beings.’
As soon as the notions of retribution and purification
came to be connected with the notion of metempsychosis, the
modification produced in that notion by the notion of magical
metamorphosis would be greatly accentuated: to be born
again as a beast would in many cases seem to be more
appropriate, from the point of view of retribution and purifica-
tion, than to be born again in the natural course as a
human being.
III
Timaeus, 41 Ὁ, ξυστήσας τὸ πᾶν διεῖλε ψυχὰς ἰσαρίθ-
μους τοῖς ἄστροις, ἔνειμέ θ᾽ ἑκάστην πρὸς ἕκαστον.
Susemihl (Genet. Hntw. ii. 369) and Archer-Hind (7%m.
ad loc.) think that the Creator assigned to the fixed stars, not
already differentiated individual Souls, but masses of the, as
yet, undifferentiated Soul-stuff which he had compounded in
the bowl. Only when the time came that Souls should be
1 The case of Tuan Mace Cairill, in Irish legend, may be quoted as illustrating
the manner in which the ideas of metamorphosis, metempsychosis, and preg-
nancy without male intervention, run into one another. Tuan became, in
succession, a Stag, a Bear, an Eagle, and a Salmon. The Salmon was boiled and
eaten by a woman, who thereupon conceived, and brought forth Tuan again in
human form. See The Voyage of Bran, by Myer and Nutt, ii. 76.
ΤῊΝ 7T/MAKRUS 305
“sown” on the ὄργανα χρόνου, the planets and earth, were
these masses of Soul-stuff in the fixed stars taken and differen-
tiated into individual Souls, I agree with Zeller (Plato,
pp. 390, 391, Engl. Transl.) in holding that the Souls are
differentiated as individuals when they are assigned each one
to its fixed star; and that it is these individual Souls which,
on the completion of their speculative journey round the outer
sphere of the Heaven, are transferred to the earth and planets
in order to partake of their first birth, γένεσις πρώτη, in the
flesh.
Mr. Archer-Hind asks (note, ad loc.) what is the purpose
of this distribution of (as he supposes) masses of undifferen-
tiated Soul-stuff among the fixed stars; and finds the explana-
tion in Phaedrus, 252 c, D, where different gods are assigned
as patrons for persons of various temperament. If the reader
will turn to the passage in the Phaedrus referred to by Mr.
Archer-Hind, he will find that the patron gods, 1.6. stars, are
not the fixed stars, but the planets, Jupiter, Mars, the Sun;
and this is only in accordance with the prevailing belief—that
it is from the planets that the varieties of temperament are,
at least, chiefly derived. The purpose of the distribution of
Souls (in my view, individual Souls, not masses of Soul-stuff)
among the fixed stars is what Plato distinctly says it is—that
these Souls may learn the Laws of the Universe—r7v τοῦ
: \ /
παντὸς φύσιν.
THE PHAEHDRUS MYTH
CONTEXT
TuE subject of the Phaedrus is “ Rhetoric and Love.”
Socrates and the young Phaedrus take a walk together out-
side the Walls, and rest under a plane-tree by the bank of the
Llissus.
There Phaedrus reads to Socrates a rhetorical piece, which
he has just heard delivered by Lysias, in praise of the non-
lover as distinguished from the lover.
Socrates does not think much of the performance, and
delivers a better speech on the same subject—in dispraise of the
lover and praise of the non-lover.
When he has finished his speech, he rises to go away, but
is stopped by his δαιμόνιον, or Familiar Spirit, and stays to
deliver a Recantation of his blasphemous dispraise of Love.
The sanity of the non-lover, on which he had enlarged,
is indeed a paltry thing, he now says, as compared with the
madness of the lover. Madness is the gift of God. There
are four kinds of divine madness: the first is prophetic
inspiration—as the name μαντική, derived from μανική,
shows; the second is religious exaltation—the feeling of
the μύστης, or initiated person; the third is poetic genius ;
and the fourth is the Love by which the immortal Soul is
winged for her flight to Heaven.
The Myth describes the birth and growth of this Love,
which it presents as the nisus of the Soul after the True,
the Beautiful, and the Good—in one word, as Philosophy.
306
ΓΝ ee eee, | ee
Sa Ἧ “οὐ ᾽ νὰ
ΟΠ ΤῊΝ PHAEDRUS MYTH 307
When the Myth is finished, conversation is resumed, and
s to the subject of Rhetoric, or the Art of Public Speaking,
hich is now discussed by Socrates with a deep sense of the
yrtance of Truth. To be a really good speaker, a man must
ων the Truth, and be able to recommend it to his audience.
— Genwine Rhetoric is based on Philosophy ; and the highest kind
Εν such Rhetoric, on that enthusiastic Philosophy which is the
gift of Eros. Let Lysias keep this in mind.
908 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Phaedrus, 246 a—257 A
\ \ > > / > fal id na
246 Περὶ μὲν οὖν ἀθανασίας αὐτῆς ἱκανῶς.
a aA 2
Περὶ δὲ τῆς ἰδέας αὐτῆς ὧδε λεκτέον: οἷον μέν ἐστι,
/ ΄ ὑ / ὃ \ a / 2 \
πάντῃ πάντως θείας εἶναι καὶ μακρᾶς διηγήσεως, ᾧ δὲ
Ν > ,ὔ \ / / 9 /
ἔοικεν, ἀνθρωπίνης τε Kal ἐλάττονος. ταύτῃ οὖν λέγωμεν.
\ / , / /
᾿Εοικέτω δὴ ξυμφύτῳ δυνάμει ὑποπτέρου ζεύγους τε καὶ
ἂν.» ἢ a \ ΠῚ ov \ ς 7, > ,
ἡνιόχου. θεῶν μὲν οὖν ἵπποι τε Kal ἡνίοχοι πάντες αὐτοί
a \ a ΝΜ
Β τε ἀγαθοὶ καὶ ἐξ ἀγαθῶν, τὸ δὲ τῶν ἄλλων μέμικται. καὶ
a \ e fal ς »Μ 7 ς an 3 -
πρῶτον μὲν ἡμῶν ὁ ἄρχων ἕξυνωρίδος ἡνιοχεῖ, εἶτα τῶν
od ε \ > a / > \ \ > / e
ἵππων ὁ μὲν αὐτῷ καλὸς τε κἀγαθὸς Kal ἐκ τοιούτων, ὁ
δὲ ἐξ ἐναντίων τε καὶ ἐναντίος. χαλεπὴ δὴ καὶ δύσκολος
> b / ς \ ς A ς / ΠῚ ὃ) 5 θ ,ὔ
ἐξ ἀνάγκης ἡ περὶ ἡμᾶς ἡνιόχησις. ἢ δὴ οὖν θνητὸν τε
Ν > / a b ΄ / > a a ς
καὶ ἀθάνατον ζῶον ἐκλήθη, πειρατέον εἰπεῖν. πᾶσα ἡ
\ \ ) - a b YA / \ > \
ψυχὴ παντὸς ἐπιμελεῖται τοῦ ἀψύχου, πάντα δὲ οὐρανὸν
κ / ᾽ A /
περιπολεῖ, ἄλλοτ᾽ ἐν ἄλλοις εἴδεσι γιγνομένη. τελέα μὲν
5 5 ‘4 ὦ / A \ , \
Coty οὖσα Kal ἐπτερωμένη μετεωροπορεῖ Te Kal πάντα τὸν
/ ὃ val δ δὲ 7 / σ΄ x
κόσμον διοικεῖ: ἡ δὲ πτερορρυήσασα φέρεται, ἕως ἂν
rn > / 2 - lal fun
στερεοῦ τινος ἀντιλάβηται, οὗ κατοικισθεῖσα, σῶμα γήϊνον
ral > \ ς \ ὃ an A ὃ \ \ > / δύ
λαβοῦσα, αὐτὸ αὑτὸ δοκοῦν κινεῖν διὰ τὴν ἐκείνης δύναμιν,
a \ / > / \ \ a) / / >
ζῶον τὸ ξύμπαν ἐκλήθη, ψυχὴ καὶ σῶμα παγέν, θνητόν τ
/
ἔσχεν ἐπωνυμίαν: ἀθάνατον δὲ οὐδ᾽ ἐξ ἑνὸς λόγου λελογι-
/ > \ / ” 56 ¥ Δ᾽ e a /
σμένου, ἀλλὰ πλάττομεν, οὔτε ἰδόντες OVO ἱκανῶς νοήσαντες
/ “- Μ Ν / 7
Ὁ [θεὸν] ἀθάνατόν te ζῶον, ἔχον μὲν ψυχήν, ἔχον δὲ σῶμα,
/ rc / a
τὸν ἀεὶ δὲ χρόνον ταῦτα ξυμπεφυκότα. ᾿Αλλὰ ταῦτα μὲν
nr a / 4 ? /
δή, ὅπῃ τῷ θεῴ φίλον, ταύτῃ ἐχέτω τε Kal λεγέσθω. τὴν
THE PHAEDRUS MYTH 309
TRANSLATION
Concerning the Immortality of the Soul enough hath been
spoken: now let it be told of what fashion she is, with
this preface, to wit, that her fashion, as it truly is, only the
tongue of a God, using long discourse, could declare; but
what she is like unto, a Man may tell, speaking more shortly.
Let it then be said of the Soul, that she is like unto a
Power composite of two Winged Horses harnessed, and a
Charioteer.
All the Horses and Charioteers of the Gods are themselves
good, and of good stock; but of the other Souls the goodness
is mixed: for ‘tis a Yoke of Horses that the Charioteer
of Man’s Soul driveth, and, moreover, of his Horses the one
is well-favoured and good, and of good stock, the other of
evil stock and himself evil. Wherefore a hard thing, and
a contrarious, the driving of our Chariots must needs be.
Now let it be told how it hath come to pass that of living
creatures some are called mortal and some immortal. All
that is called by the name of Sowl watcheth over all that is
without Soul, and maketh circuit of the whole Heaven, and
appeareth now in this shape now in that. If a Soul be per-
fect, and keep her wings full of feathers, she flieth high and
encompasseth the whole world with her government. But
there be Souls that have shed their wings, and fall down
headlong till they lay hold on that which is corporeal, and there
they make their abode, having taken unto themselves earthly
bodies. The earthly body, albeit without the power of the
Soul it is not moved, seemeth to move itself; and the whole,
compacted together of Soul and Body, is that which we call
by the name of “living creature,” thereunto adding “ mortal.”
Of that which is “immortal” we have no understanding ;
but make for ourselves an image thereof; and God, whom we
have not seen neither have rightly comprehended, we conceit
as One who liveth and is immortal and hath Soul and
Body ; and in him we say are these two joined together for
evermore.
Let these things and the telling of them be as it pleaseth
310 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
- - lal fal ᾽ a “Ὁ
δ᾽ αἰτίαν τῆς τῶν πτερῶν ἀποβολῆς, δι’ ἣν ψυχῆς ἀπορρεῖ,
λάβωμεν. ἔστι δέ τις τοιάδε.
Πέφυκεν ἡ πτεροῦ δύναμις τὸ ἐμβριθὲς ἄγειν ἄνω
/ 5. 7 \ lal a / > lal / ,ὔ
μετεωρίζουσα, ἡ τὸ τῶν θεῶν γένος οἰκεῖ. κεκοινώνηκε δέ
™ μάλιστα τῶν περὶ τὸ σῶμα τοῦ θείου [ψυχή]. τὸ δὲ
a / / > \ \ A “ “ ,ὔ
E θεῖον καλὸν, σοφὸν, ἀγαθὸν καὶ πᾶν ὅ τι τοιοῦτον. τούτοις
241
\ / / \ " / \ A a
δὴ τρέφεταί te καὶ αὔξεται μάλιστα τὸ THs ψυχῆς
/ > a \ \ ον \ a > / /
πτέρωμα, αἰσχρῷ δὲ Kal KaK@ Kal τοῖς ἐναντίοις φθίνει τε
\ / e \ \ / e \ > > a \
καὶ διόλλυται" ὁ μὲν δὴ μέγας ἡγεμὼν ἐν ovpave Ζεὺς
/ \ e a / a ,
ἐλαύνων πτηνὸν ἅρμα πρῶτος πορεύεται, διακοσμῶν πάντα
\ > / a > Ψ \ a \
Kal ἐπιμελούμενος" τῷ δ᾽ ἕπεται στρατιὰ θεῶν τε Kal
, \ 7 / / / \ £ /
δαιμόνων κατὰ ἕνδεκα μέρη κεκοσμημένη. μένει yap “Eotia
la , al a lal
ἐν θεῶν οἴκῳ μόνη" τῶν δὲ ἄλλων ὅσοι ἐν τῷ τῶν δώδεκα
> “ / \ ” ς ἴω \ / ἃ
ἀριθμῷ τεταγμένοι θεοὶ ἄρχοντες ἡγοῦνται κατὰ τάξιν ἣν
“ ’ / \ \ * \ / / \
ἕκαστος ἐτάχθη. πολλαὶ μὲν οὖν Kal μακάριαι θέαι τε Kal
/ » \ > fa) A a / > / > /
διέξοδοι ἐντὸς οὐρανοῦ, ἃς θεῶν γένος εὐδαιμόνων ἐπιστρέ-
/ “ > “ Ν ς “ Ὁ \ e ~ A’
φεται, πράττων ἕκαστος αὐτῶν TO αὑτοῦ. ἕπεται δὲ ὁ ἀεὶ
/ a
ἐθέλων τε καὶ δυνάμενος" φθόνος yap ἔξω θείου χοροῦ
“ ed \ \ \ a \ δ ἃ / »
ἵσταται. ὅταν δὲ δὴ πρὸς δαῖτα καὶ ἐπὶ θοίνην ἴωσιν,
ς Ν \ ς Pd ¢ al / \ Μ
ἄκραν ὑπὸ τὴν ὑπουράνιον ἁψῖδα πορεύονται πρὸς ἄναντες
” \ \ 3 ζω ? / > / δι ς ”
ἤδη. τὰ μὲν οὖν θεῶν ὀχήματα ἰσορρόπως εὐήνια ὄντα
/ e an
ῥᾳδίως πορεύεται, Ta δὲ ἄλλα μόγις: βρίθει yap ὁ THs
, “ / Ν εν \ fal we rad
κάκης ἵππος μετέχων, ἐπὶ THY γῆν ῥέπων τε καὶ βαρύνων,
ως \ λῶ 3 θ /, A ς / ” θ ὃ) ὀ
© μὴ καλῶς ἣ τεθραμμένος τῶν ἡνιόχων. ἔνθα δὴ πόνος
\ Bsc S ΝΜ A / e \ \
τε Kal ἀγὼν ἔσχατος ψυχῇ πρόκειται. αἱ μὲν yap
> / 4 ς | an vn \ ” ; / Μ
ἀθάνατοι καλούμεναι, ἡνίκ᾽ ἂν πρὸς ἄκρῳ γένωνται, ἔξω
na ” , Cu. A a > a / / \
πορευθεῖσαι ἔστησαν ἐπὶ τῷ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ νώτῳ, στάσας δὲ
> \ / ς / e \ A \ Μ lal
αὐτὰς περιάγει ἡ περιφορά, ai δὲ θεωροῦσι τὰ ἔξω τοῦ
οὐρανοῦ.
THE PHAKFDRUS MYTH 411
God; but of the falling off of the wings, and wherefore the
Soul sheddeth them, let the cause be now discovered. It is
after this wise.
The nature of wings consisteth in the power of lifting that
which is heavy up into the height where the generation of the
Gods dwelleth; and unto wings, amongst the bodily parts,
belongeth the largest portion of that which is of God. Now
that which is of God hath beauty, and wisdom, and goodness,
and all perfection; by these, therefore, the growth of the
wings of the Soul is chiefly nourished and increased ; whereas
by the things which are contrary to these, to wit, by all things
hateful and evil, are her wings caused to pine away, and utterly
destroyed.
Zeus, the great Captain of the Host of Heaven, mounted
upon his winged chariot, rideth first and disposeth and over-
seeth all things. Him followeth the army of Gods and Daemons
in eleven orders—for Hestia alone abideth in the House of
the Gods; but all the other Gods which are of the number
of the Twelve go forth and lead each one the order whereof
he is appointed to be captain.
Many holy sights there be for eye to behold of blessed
Gods in their courses passing to and fro within the firmament
of Heaven, each one doing his own business: and whosoever
willeth, and is able, followeth; for Envy standeth afar from
the Heavenly Choir.
Now, as often as they go to eat at the banquet, their path
is ever up by the steep way close under the roof of the Heaven.
The Chariots of the Gods, going evenly and being alway
obedient to the hand of the Charioteer, accomplish their
journey easily; but the other Chariots hardly, with great
labour, for the Horse which is by nature froward is as a weight,
and ever inclineth towards the Earth, and, except the Charioteer
hath brought him into subjection, draweth the Chariot down.
Herein standeth the cause to the Soul of trouble and trial
exceeding great and sore which are prepared for her.
The Souls which are called immortal, when they are come
to the top of the Heaven, journey out therefrom and stand
upon the Roof thereof without, and standing are carried round
by the circuit, and behold those things which are without the
Heaven.
312 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
/ / lal
Tov δὲ ὑπερουράνιον τόπον οὔτε τις ὕμνησέ πω τῶν
A \ x ot te / > es ” ᾿ -ἰν
τῆδε ποιητὴς οὔτε ποθ ὑμνήσει κατ᾽ ἀξίαν. ἔχει δὲ ὧδε.
/ a
τολμητέον yap οὖν TO γε ἀληθὲς εἰπεῖν, ἄλλως TE Kal
Ν > / / ς \ > ΄ / \ > /
περὶ ἀληθείας λέγοντα. ἡ yap ἀχρώματος TE καὶ ἀσχημά-
\ > \ > / x” 5 fel /
τίιστος καὶ ἀναφὴς οὐσία ὄντως οὖσα ψυχῆς κυβερνήτῃ
/ \ A \ ἃ \ a 3 a > / /
μόνῳ θεατὴ νῷ" περὶ ἣν TO τῆς ἀληθοῦς ἐπιστήμης γένος
al Μ Α, / ee 5 a / a \
D τοῦτον ἔχει τὸν τόπον. ἅτ᾽ οὖν θεοῦ διάνοια νῷ TE Kai
» / > / / \ e / A Ὁ x
ἐπιστήμῃ ἀκηράτῳ τρεφομένη, καὶ ἁπάσης Ψυχῆς, ὅση av
a a / \ Ἃ
μέλλῃ τὸ προσῆκον δέξασθαι, ἰδοῦσα διὰ χρόνου τὸ ὃν
> Led \ la) > a / \ > Lal ῳ
ἀγαπᾷ τε καὶ θεωροῦσα τἀληθῆ τρέφεται καὶ εὐπαθεῖ, ἕως
Xx "A x ς \ > a / > δὲ A
ἂν κύκλῳ ἡ περιφορὰ εἰς ταὐτὸν περιενέγκῃ. ἐν δὲ TH
/ lol \ > \ / lal \
περιόδῳ καθορᾷ μὲν αὐτὴν δικαιοσύνην, καθορᾷ δὲ σωφρο-
/ 6 A δὲ > f > εκ / / >
σύνην, καθορᾷ δὲ ἐπιστήμην, οὐχ ἢ γένεσις πρόσεστιν, οὐ
“ > / e / » e / = e e al an ”
E% ἐστί που ἑτέρα ev ἑτέρῳ οὖσα ὧν ἡμεῖς viv ὄντων
καλοῦμεν, ἀλλὰ τὴν ἐν TO ὅ ἐσ ὃν ὄντως ἐπιστή
μεν, a τὴν ἐν τῷ ὅ ἐστιν ὃν ὄντως ἐπιστήμην
Ss \ s e / \ ” ΝΜ / \
οὖσαν: Kal τἄλλα ὡσαύτως Ta ὄντα ὄντως θεασαμένη καὶ
« A δῦ / > \ ” a > a »”
ἑστιαθεῖσα, δῦσα πάλιν εἰς TO εἴσω τοῦ οὐρανοῦ, οἴκαδε
/ na e / \ \
ἦλθεν: ἐλθούσης δὲ αὐτῆς ὁ ἡνίοχος πρὸς τὴν φάτνην
\ “ / / > / \ Ἄν ὦ > A
τοὺς ἵππους στήσας παρέβαλεν ἀμβροσίαν τε καὶ ἐπ᾽ αὐτῇ
/
νέκταρ ἐπότισε.
a / e \ A
248 Kai οὗτος μὲν θεῶν Bios. αἱ δὲ ἄλλαι ψυχαί, ἡ μὲν
ΝΜ A € / \ ᾽ / e “ > \ ΝΜ
ἄριστα θεῷ ἑπομένη καὶ εἰκασμένη ὑπερῆρεν εἰς τὸν ἔξω
\ a ς / / \ / \
τόπον τὴν τοῦ ἡνιόχου κεφαλήν, Kal συμπεριηνέχθη τὴν
/ / e \ a t/ \ / rn
περιφοράν, θορυβουμένη ὑπὸ τῶν ἵππων Kal μόγις καθορῶσα
/
Ta ὄντα' ἡ δὲ τοτὲ μὲν ἦρε, τοτὲ δὲ ἔδυ, βιαζομένων δὲ
r »
τῶν ἵππων τὰ μὲν εἶδε, τὰ δ᾽ ov. αἱ δὲ δὴ ἄλλαι
/ \ e a ” “ > a \
γλιχόμεναι μὲν ἅπασαι τοῦ ἄνω ἕπονται, ἀδυνατοῦσαι δὲ
a \
ὑποβρύχιαι ξυμπεριφέρονται, πατοῦσαι ἀλλήλας καὶ ἐπι-
Β βάλλουσαι, ἑτέρα πρὸ τῆς ἑτέρας πειρωμένη γενέσθαι.
ΤῊΝ ΗΑ MYTH 313
Now, the Place which is above the Heaven no poet here
hath ever praised, nor shall praise, worthily. The Place is
after this wise: for he especially whose discourse is concerning
Truth must make bold to say what is true concerning 1t.
The Substance which Verily Is, which hath no colour and
no shape, and hand cannot touch, is comprehended only by the
Governor of the Soul, to wit, by Reason. Round about this
Substance, in this Place, dwelleth True Knowledge. The Mind
of God—yea, that Part wherewith every Soul seeketh after
the food convenient for herself—is fed with Reason and True
Knowledge undefiled. Wherefore beholding again at last That
Which Is, it is satisfied, and the sight of That which is True
feedeth it, and maketh it glad, until the circuit shall have
brought the Soul round again unto the same Place. In the
journey round the Soul beholdeth Justice Itself, she beholdeth
Temperance Itself, she beholdeth True Knowledge: not that
knowledge which is with generation, and differeth in respect
unto different of those things concerning which we now say
that “they are”; but the knowledge which standeth in That
which Verily Is. The Soul, then, having beheld these and
also all other things Which Verily Are, and having eaten
of this feast, sinketh down again into the inward part of the
Heaven and cometh home unto her House. And when she
is come, the Charioteer maketh the Horses to stand at the
manger, and casteth ambrosia before them, and thereafter
giveth them nectar to drink.
This is the life of the Gods. Of the other Souls, which-
soever followeth God best, and is made most like unto Him,
keepeth the head of her Charioteer lifted up into the Place
without the firmament, and is carried round with the circuit
thereof, being troubled by the Horses, and hardly beholding
the Things Which Are; after her cometh the Soul which for
a space keepeth the head of her Charioteer lifted up, and then
again sinketh down, and because of the violence of the Horses,
seeth some of the Things Which Are, but some she seeth not.
Beside these there follow other Souls which all do strive
after that which is above, but are not able to reach unto it,
and are carried round sunken beneath the face of the Heaven,
trampling upon one another, and running against one another,
and pressing on for to outstrip one another, with mighty great
314 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
/ /
θόρυβος οὖν καὶ ἅμιλλα καὶ ἱδρὼς ἔσχατος γίγνεται. οὗ
’ 7
δὴ κακίᾳ ἡνιόχων πολλαὶ μὲν χωλεύονται, πολλαὶ δὲ
val /
πολλὰ πτερὰ Opavovtat: πᾶσαι δὲ πολὺν ἔχουσαι πόνον
» “ a “ v / > / \ > lal
ἀτελεῖς τῆς τοῦ ὄντος θέας ἀπέρχονται, καὶ ἀπελθοῦσαι
A a lal >
τοφρῇ δοξαστῇ χρῶνται. οὗ δ᾽ ἕνεχ᾽ ἡ πολλὴ σπουδὴ τὸ
a \ / ων
ἀληθείας ἰδεῖν πεδίον οὗ ἐστιν, ἥ τε δὴ προσήκουσα ψυχῆς
a es \ > a > a x lal / 2 Ψ
τῷ ἀρίστῳ νομὴ ἐκ τοῦ ἐκεῖ λειμῶνος τυγχάνει οὖσα, ἥ τε
la - 7 /
C TOU πτεροῦ φύσις, ᾧ ψυχὴ κουφίξεται, τούτῳ τρέφεται,
/ \ a \
θεσμός te ᾿Αδραστείας ὅδε, ἥτις av ψυχὴ θεῷ ξυνοπαδὸς
/ / A > lal , a ei. 7
γενομένη κατίδῃ Te τῶν ἀληθῶν, μέχρι τε τῆς ἑτέρας
/ ° ? / nv 2 a δύ a 4
περιόδου εἶναι ἀπήμονα, κἂν ἀεὶ τοῦτο δύνηται ποιεῖν, ἀεὶ
> lal εὐ \
ἀβλαβῆ εἶναι' ὅταν δὲ ἀδυνατήσασα ἐπισπέσθαι μὴ ἴδῃ,
καί τινι συντυχίᾳ σαμένη λήθης τε καὶ κακίας πλη-
χίᾳ χρησαμένη λήθη η
na fal al / \ \ \
σθεῖσα βαρυνθῇ, βαρυνθεῖσα δὲ πτερορρυήσῃ τε καὶ ἐπὶ τὴν
- / / / / \ rn > ὃ /
Ὁ γῆν πέσῃ, τότε νόμος ταύτην μὴ φυτεῦσαι εἰς μηδεμίαν
A / \ \ \ a
θηρείαν φύσιν ἐν τῇ πρώτῃ γενέσει, ἀλλὰ τὴν μὲν πλεῖστα
A \ / / nx
ἰδοῦσαν εἰς γονὴν avdpos γενησομένου φιλοσόφου ἢ
/ δ a \ ᾿] A“ \ δὲ ὃ /
φιλοκάλου ἢ μουσικοῦ Tivos Kal ἐρωτικοῦ, τὴν δὲ δευτέραν
/ a ’ fal / >
εἰς βασιλέως ἐννόμου ἢ πολεμικοῦ Kal ἀρχικοῦ, τρίτην εἰς
ἴω an “ /
πολιτικοῦ ἤ τινος οἰκονομικοῦ ἢ χρηματιστικοῦ, τετάρτην
> / rn A \ / Μ /
εἰς φιλοπόνου γυμναστικοῦ ἢ περὶ σώματος ἴασίν τινα
᾽ / / \ / ” \
ἐσομένου, πέμπτην μαντικὸν βίον ἤἢἤ τινα τελεστικὸν
μ, Ν A \ / / »
Ε ἕξουσαν: ἕκτῃ ποιητικὸὲ ἢ τῶν περὶ μίμησίν τις ἄλλος
᾿ / / \ a / > /
ἁρμόσει, ἑβδόμῃ Snustoupyixos ἢ γεωργικός, ὀγδόῃ σοφι-
Ν δ / , / / ᾽ δὲ ΄
στικὸς ἢ δημοκοπικός, ἐννάτῃ τυραννικὸς. ἐν δὲ τούτοις
Ψ Δ 4 νὰ / ὃ 7 > , ,
ἅπασιν ὃς μὲν ἂν δικαίως διαγάγῃ, ἀμείνονος μοίρας μετα-
λαμβάνει, ὃς δ᾽ ἂν ἀδίκως, χείρονος.
THE ΓΗ ΚΡ MYTH 315
sound of tumult and sweat of the race; and here, by reason
of the unskilfulness of the Charioteers, many Souls are maimed,
and many have their wings broken; and all, greatly travailing,
depart uninitiated, not having seen That Which Is, and turn
them to the food of Opinion.
Now these are the causes wherefore they so vehemently
desire to see the Place where the Plain of Truth is: because
the pasture convenient for the Best Part of the Soul groweth
in the Meadow there, and the power of wings, whereby the
Soul is lightly carried up, is nourished by that pasture; and
because Adrasteia hath made a decree that the Soul which
hath been the companion of God, and seen some of the Things
Which Are, shall be without affliction all the time until another
journey round the Heaven beginneth for her; and if she can
alway behold Those Things she shall be without hurt alway:
but when a Soul, having seen Those Things aforetime, is now
not able to follow, and seeth them not, being overtaken by
some evil chance, and filled with forgetfulness and wickedness,
and made heavy so that she sheddeth the feathers of her
wings and falleth unto the Earth, then the law is that she
shall not be planted in the body of any Beast in the first
generation: but the Soul which hath seen most shall pass into
the seed of a man who shall become a Seeker after the True
Wisdom, a Seeker after the True Beauty, a Friend of the
Muses, a True Lover; the Soul which cometh second shall
enter into the seed of a King who shall rule justly, or of a
Warrior and Commander of the Host; the Soul which cometh
third shall enter into the seed of a man who shall busy him-
self with the affairs of a City, or with the stewardship of a
household, or with merchandise; the Soul which is fourth
shall enter into the seed of a man who shall endure hardness
for the sake of the crown of victory, or shall be a healer of
the diseases of the body; the Soul which is fifth shall have
the life of a Prophet or Priest; unto the sixth shall belong
the life of a Poet or some other of the tribe of Copiers; unto
the seventh the life of a Workman or Husbandman; unto the
eighth the life of a Sophist or Demagogue; unto the ninth
the life of a Tyrant. Im all these lives, whosoever walketh
righteously hath a better portion; whosoever walketh un-
righteously, a worse.
916 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
> \ \ \ > / τ Ὁ e \ e / ᾽
Εἰς μὲν γὰρ τὸ αὐτό, ὅθεν ἥκει ἡ ψυχὴ ἑκάστη, οὐκ
τι n / la) \
ἀφικνεῖται ἐτῶν μυρίων: οὐ γὰρ πτεροῦται πρὸ τοσούτου
/ rn /
249 χρόνου, πλὴν ἡ τοῦ φιλοσοφήσαντος ἀδόλως ἢ παιδεραστή-
\ ,ὔ & \ / / A
σαντος μετὰ φιλοσοφίας. αὗται δὲ τρίτῃ περιόδῳ τῇ
χιλιετεῖ, ἐὰν ἕλωνται τρὶς ἐφεξῆς τὸν βίον τοῦτον, οὕτω
val a $Y 4 ᾽ / e \ ΝΜ
πτερωθεῖσαι τρισχιλιοστῷ ETEL ἀπέρχονται. αἱ δὲ ἄλλαι,
“ \ “ / / / ”
ὅταν Tov πρῶτον βίον τελευτήσωσι, κρίσεως ἔτυχον.
κριθεῖσαι δὲ αἱ μὲν εἰς τὰ ὑπὸ γῆς δικαιωτήρια ἐλθοῦσαι
δί 5 / e δ᾽ > > lal / ς Ν an
ίκην ἐκτίνουσιν, αἱ εἰς τοὐρανοῦ τινα τόπον ὑπὸ τῆς
/ ~
B δίκης κουφισθεῖσαι διάγουσιν ἀξίως ov ἐν ἀνθρώπου εἴδει
/ A A / /
ἐβίωσαν Blov. τῴ δὲ χιλιοστῷ ἀμφότεραι ἀφικνούμεναι
> \ / / \ “ἶ al / / e a
ἐπὶ κληρωσίν τε Kai αἵρεσιν τοῦ δευτέρου βίου αἱροῦνται
a x
ov av ἐθέλῃ ἑκάστη. ἔνθα καὶ eis θηρίου βίον ἀνθρωπίνη
\ > rn \ > / . ΝΜ 5
Ψυχὴ ἀφικνεῖται, καὶ ἐκ θηρίου ὅς ποτε ἄνθρωπος ἦν
/ > ” > \ 4 / > r \
πάλιν εἰς ἄνθρωπον. ov yap ye μήποτε ἰδοῦσα τὴν
\ a a Μ
ἀλήθειαν εἰς τόδε ἥξει τὸ σχῆμα. δεῖ γὰρ ἄνθρωπον
, / ~ > >
ξυνιέναι κατ᾽ εἶδος λεγόμενον, ἐκ πολλῶν ἰὸν αἰσθήσεων εἰς
ἃ a / »" / ᾽ > /
σὲν λογισμῷ ἕξυναιρούμενον.: τοῦτο δέ ἐστιν ἀνάμνησις
᾿] / “ » “. ΄ lal ΄ \ an lol \
ἐκείνων, & TOT εἶδεν ἡμῶν ἡ ψυχὴ συμπορευθεῖσα θεῷ καὶ
ς a A ἴω 4 / \ > / > \ x
ὑπεριδοῦσα ἃ νῦν εἶναί φαμεν καὶ ἀνακύψασα eis τὸ ὃν
Ν \ / “-“ an /
ὄντως. διὸ δὴ δικαίως μόνη πτεροῦται ἡ τοῦ φιλοσόφου
ὃ ΄ \ \ 2 / δου" ἃ / \ δύ
ἰάνοια' πρὸς γὰρ ἐκείνοις ἀεί ἐστι μνήμῃ κατὰ δύναμιν,
Ν al a \ / > \
πρὸς οἷσπερ θεὸς ὧν θεῖός ἐστι. τοῖς δὲ δὴ τοιούτοις ἀνὴρ
΄ - \ /
ὑπομνήμασιν ὀρθῶς χρώμενος, τελέους ἀεὶ τελετὰς τελού-
/ ΝΜ / / > / \ A
Ὁ μενος, τέλεος ὄντως μόνος γίγνεται. ἐξιστάμενος δὲ τῶν
᾽ / 7 \ \ A , /
ἀνθρωπίνων σπουδασμάτων καὶ πρὸς τῴ θείῳ γυγνόμενος,
a \ e \ a “ ΄ a ᾽ /
νουθετεῖται μὲν ὑπὸ τῶν πολλῶν ὡς παρακινῶν, ἐνθουσιάζων
δὲ λέληθε τοὺς πολλούς.
» id n τ \ n /
"Ἔστι δὴ οὖν δεῦρο ὁ πᾶς ἥκων λόγος περὶ τῆς τετάρ-
τῆς μανίας, ἣν ὅταν τὸ τῇδέ τις ὁρῶν κάλλος, τοῦ ἀληθοῦς
THE PHAEDRUS MYTH 317
Now into the same Place from whence each Soul cometh
she returneth not again until ten thousand years have been
accomplished ; for sooner is no Soul fledged with wings, save
the Soul of him who hath sought after True Wisdom without
deceit, or hath loved his Comrade in the bonds of Wisdom.
The Souls of such men, when the third course of a thousand
years is finished, if they have chosen this life three times in
order, being fledged with wings, do then depart.
But the other Souls, when they have ended their first life,
are brought before the judgment-seat; and when they have
received sentence, some go to the prisons under the Earth, and
there pay the penalty: and some by the sentence are exalted
and go into a certain place of the Heavens, where they fare
as beseemeth the life which they spent when they had Man’s
form. But in the thousandth year both sorts, being come to
the casting of lots and to the choosing of the second life,
choose, every Soul, the life which pleaseth her. And now it
cometh to pass that a Soul which was a Man’s goeth into the
life of a Beast, and the Soul of a Beast which aforetime was
a Man goeth again into a Man; for unto Man’s shape no Soul
attaineth which never beheld the Truth; the cause whereof is
this—Man must needs understand the Specific Form which
proceedeth from the perceiving of many things, and is made
one by Thought. This is the Recollection of Those Things
which each Soul erewhile saw when she journeyed together
with God, despising the things which we now say are, and
holding herself up to look at That which Verily Is. Where-
fore of right only the Mind of the Lover of Wisdom is winged;
for he alway cleaveth in Memory, so far as he is able, unto
Those Things by cleaving unto which God is verily God. The
man, therefore, who useth these memorials aright, and is alway
a partaker in the perfect mysteries, he alone becometh verily
perfect ; but inasmuch as he escheweth the things which men
do strive after, and giveth himself unto God, they that are of
the world rebuke him, saying that he is beside himself; for
they perceive not that he hath inspiration of God.
It is come to pass, then, that this Discourse is now
returned unto whence it came, to wit, unto the Fourth Sort
of Madness: for when a man beholdeth the beauty which is
here, and then calleth to mind the True Beauty, and getteth
318 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
ἀναμιμνησκόμενος, πτεροῦταί Te Kal ἀναπτερούμενος προθυ-
μούμενος ἀναπτέσθαι, ἀδυνατῶν δέ, ὄρνιθος δίκην βλέπων
” n / Ν 3 A >. 4 y” ς a)
ἄνω, TOV κάτω δὲ ἀμελῶν, αἰτίαν ἔχει ὡς μανικῶς
ὃ / ς » Ψ al lal > / et a
E διακείμενος, ὡς apa αὕτη πασῶν τῶν ἐνθουσιάσεων ἀρίστη
250
τε καὶ ἐξ ἀρίστων τῷ τε ἔχοντι καὶ τῷ κοινωνοῦντι αὐτῆς
,ὔ \ ε Α 7 A ¢e lal “-“
γίγνεται, καὶ ὅτι ταύτης μετέχων τῆς μανίας ὁ ἐρῶν τῶν
n > \ a ’ sf Μ a \
καλῶν ἐραστὴς καλεῖται. καθάπερ yap εἴρηται, πᾶσα μὲν
\ /
ἀνθρώπου ψυχὴ φύσει τεθέαται τὰ ὄντα, ἢ οὐκ ἂν ἦλθεν
> / \ a > / > > A > a >
εἰς τόδε TO ζῶον, ἀναμιμνήσκεσθαι δ᾽ ἐκ τῶνδε ἐκεῖνα οὐ
er ς / 42) ew 4 io / > A » 4᾽ “Ὁ
ῥάδιον ἁπάσῃ, οὔθ᾽ ὅσαι βραχέως εἶδον τότε τἀκεῖ, οὔθ᾽ αἱ
κ lal » / 2 Ἢ , id lal δὲ ἃ
δεῦρο πεσοῦσαι ἐδυστύχησαν, ὥστε ὑπὸ τινων ὁμιλιῶν ἐπὶ
\ ” , 7 - , 5 ς a ”
TO ἄδικον TpaTrouevat λήθην ὧν τότε εἶδον ἱερῶν ἔχειν.
Ε] / \ / n \ Qn 7 ς n 7
ὀλίγαι δὴ λείπονται, αἷς τὸ τῆς μνήμης ἱκανῶς πάρεστιν.
Ka \ Ὁ a > a e / ” > /
αὗται δὲ ὅταν τι τῶν ἐκεῖ ὁμοίωμα ἴδωσιν, ἐκπλήττονται
\ > 7 Δ᾽ ς a / a Te. 4 \ / > a
καὶ οὐκέθ᾽ αὑτῶν γίγνονται, ὃ δ᾽ ἔστι TO πάθος ἀγνοοῦσι
a 4 ᾿
Β διὰ τὸ μὴ ἱκανῶς διαισθάνεσθαι. δικαιοσύνης μὲν οὖν καὶ
© / / fal
σωφροσύνης, καὶ ὅσα ἄλλα τίμια ψυχαῖς, οὐκ ἔνεστι φέγγος
»a\ > a a e , > \ » » al > 7
οὐδὲν ἐν τοῖς τῇδε ὁμοιώμασιν, ἀλλὰ δι’ ἀμυδρῶν ὀργάνων
/ ᾽ -“ \ ’ / ’ \ \ > / », ral \
μόγις αὐτῶν καὶ ὀλίγοι ἐπὶ Tas εἰκόνας ἰόντες θεῶνται TO
ε΄ \ / a /
τοῦ εἰκασθέντος γένος. κάλλος δὲ τότ᾽ ἣν ἰδεῖν λαμπρόν,
A \ > / “ / ” \ /
ὅτε σὺν εὐδαίμονν χορῷ μακαρίαν ὄψιν τε καὶ θέαν,
\ rt ~
ἑπόμενοι μετὰ μὲν Διὸς ἡμεῖς, ἄλλοι δὲ μετ᾽ ἄλλου θεῶν,
rn “ lal / /
εἶδον τε Kal ἐτελοῦντο τῶν τελετῶν ἣν θέμις λέγειν
/ A ᾽ / «ς \ > \ v
C μακαριωτάτην, ἣν ὠργιάζομεν oAOKANPOL μὲν αὐτοὶ ὄντες
a - εξ a / /
καὶ ἀπαθεῖς κακῶν, ὅσα ἡμᾶς ἐν ὑστέρῳ χρόνῳ ὑπέμενεν,
e , nr lel /
ὁλόκληρα δὲ Kal ἁπλᾶ Kal ἀτρεμῆ καὶ εὐδαίμονα φάσματα
/ A A \
μυούμενοί Te Kal ἐποπτεύοντες ἐν αὐγῇ καθαρᾷ, καθαροὶ
THE ΠΑ MYTH 319
wings and desireth with them to fly up, but is not able—
looking up into the sky like a bird, and heeding not the things
beneath—he is accounted as mad after the manner of the
Fourth Sort of Madness; because that the spirit of his Mad-
ness wherewith he is possessed is the best, proceeding from
the best for him who hath it, and for him who partaketh of
it; and because that he who loveth things beautiful with the
spirit of this Madness upon him hath the name of Lover ;
for, as hath been said, every Soul which is a Man’s hath of
necessity seen the Things which Verily Are—else would it
not have entered into this creature; but to call Those Things
to mind, by means of these, is not easy for every Soul;
neither for those Souls which saw the Things There for a little
space, nor for those unto which, when they were fallen down
to the Earth, evil happened, so that they are turned to
iniquity by evil communications, and forget holy things
which they saw aforetime. Verily few are they which
are left having Memory present with them in sufficient
measure.
These, when they see any likeness of the Things There,
are amazed and cannot contain themselves any more; but what
it is that moveth them they know not, because that they
perceive nothing clearly.
Now of Justice and Temperance and all the other Precious
Things of the Soul no glory at all shineth in the likenesses
which are here; but using dull instincts and going unto
images, hardly do a few men attain unto the sight of that
One Thing whereof they are the images. Beauty Itself,
shining brightly, it was given unto them then to behold when
they were of the blessed choir and went—we in the train of
Zeus, and other Souls led by other Gods—and saw that great
and holy sight, and were made partakers of those Mysteries
which it is meet to call the most holy: the which they did then
celebrate, being themselves altogether fair and clean, and with-
out taste of the miseries prepared for them in the time there-
after, and being chosen to be eyewitnesses of visions which are
altogether fair, which are true with all singleness, which are
without variableness, which contain the fulness of joy. These
are the Things which our Souls did then see in pure light,
being themselves pure and without the mark of this which we
D
251
320 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
ὄντες καὶ ἀσήμαντοι τούτου, ὃ viv σῶμα περιφέροντες
᾽ , > / / /
ὀνομάζομεν, ὀστρέου τρόπον δεδεσμευμένοι.
Ταῦτα μὲν οὖν μνήμῃ κεχαρίσθω, δι’ ἣν πόθῳ τῶν τότε
- / yy \ \ / -“ M
νῦν μακρότερα εἴρηται. περὶ δὲ κάλλους, ὥσπερ εἴπομεν,
rn ,
μετ᾽ ἐκείνων τε ἔλαμπεν ὄν, δεῦρό τε ἐλθόντες κατειλήφαμεν
, \ \ A ᾽ / > 7 a e /
αὐτὸ διὰ τῆς ἐναργεστάτης αἰσθήσεως τῶν ἡμετέρων
στίλβον ἐναργέστατα. ὄψις γὰρ ἡμῖν ὀξυτάτη τῶν διὰ
φι , » > 7 > , > Φ. ἃ
τοῦ σώματος ἔρχεται αἰσθήσεων: ἡ φρόνησις οὐχ ὁρᾶται"
δεινοὺς γὰρ ἂν παρεῖχεν ἔρωτας, εἴ τι τοιοῦτον ἑαυτῆς
ἐναργὲς εἴδωλον παρείχετο εἰς ὄψιν ἰόν, καὶ τἄλλα ὅσα
> / a \ 7 / / » a “ ᾽
épacta: νῦν δὲ κάλλος μόνον ταύτην ἔσχε μοῖραν, ὥστ
> , 3 \ > , ε ‘ 2 ‘
ἐκφανέστατον εἶναι καὶ ἐρασμιώτατον. ὁ μὲν οὖν μὴ
νεοτελὴς ἢ διεφθαρμένος οὐκ ὀξέως ἐνθένδε ἐκεῖσε φέρεται
\ ᾽ \ \ / / > fal \ “ ᾽ ’
πρὸς αὐτὸ τὸ κάλλος, θεώμενος αὐτοῦ τὴν τῇδε ἐπωνυμίαν.
ὥστ᾽ οὐ σέβεται προσορῶν, ἀλλ᾽ ἡδονῇ παραδοὺς τετράποδος
/ b] a \ ὃ “ \ ef
νόμον βαίνειν ἐπιχειρεῖ καὶ παιδοσπορεῖν, καὶ ὕβρει προσ-
ομιλῶν οὐ δέδοικεν οὐδ᾽ αἰσχύνεται παρὰ φύσιν ἡδονὴν
, c \ ’ / e a / / “
διώκων. ὁ δὲ ἀρχιτελής, ὁ τῶν τότε πολυθεάμων, ὅταν
\ , yy / * / ν
θεοειδὲὲξ πρόσωπον ἴδῃ κάλλος εὖ μεμιμημένον, ἤ τινα
, > / a \ Μ / lal ’
σώματος ἰδέαν, πρῶτον μὲν ἔφριξε, καί τι τῶν τότε
fal “ \
ὑπῆλθεν αὐτὸν δειμάτων, εἶτα προσορῶν ὡς θεὸν σέβεται.
“- / / /
καὶ εἰ μὴ Sedivein τὴν THs σφόδρα μανίας δόξαν, θύοι ἂν
᾿ - - - ’ ,
ὡς ἀγάλματι καὶ θεῷ τοῖς παιδικοῖς. ἰδόντα δὲ αὐτόν,
“ 7 \ e \ ’
οἷον ἐκ τῆς φρίκης, μεταβολή τε καὶ ἱδρὼς καὶ θερμότης
\ cn \ ᾽ \
ἀήθης λαμβάνει. δεξάμενος yap τοῦ κάλλους τὴν ἀπορροὴν
- ? a a 7
Sia τῶν ὀμμάτων ἐθερμάνθη, ἢ ἡ τοῦ πτεροῦ φύσις
ἄρδεται. θερμανθέντος δὲ ἐτάκη τὰ περὶ τὴν ἔκφυσιν, ἃ
πάλαι ὑπὸ σκληρότητος συμμεμυκότα εἶργε μὴ βλαστάνειν.
THE ΜΑΙ ΚΝ. MYTH $21
call body, and now carry about with us, as the fish carrieth
the prison-house of his shell.
Let these words, then, be offered for a thanksgiving to
Memory, for whose sake we, as remembering our joys that are
past, have lengthened this Discourse,
Now, as touching Beauty :—-We beheld it shining, as hath
been said, amongst those other Visions; and when we came
hither, we apprehended it glittering most clearly, by means of
that sense which in us is the most clear, to wit, eyesight,
which is the keenest sense that the body conveyeth. But the
eye seeth not Wisdom. O what marvellous love would Wisdom
cause to spring up in the hearts of men, if she sent forth
au Clear likeness of herself also, even as Beauty doth, and it
entered into our eyes together with the likenesses of all the
other Things which be worthy of Love! But only unto
Beauty hath this portion been given. Wherefore Beauty is
the most evident of all, and the best beloved.
Now, he who hath not lately partaken of the heavenly
Mysteries, or hath been corrupted, is not quickly carried hence
to that Other Place and to Beauty Itself, when he seeth the
things which here are called after the name thereof. Where-
fore, looking upon these, he giveth them not reverence, but,
delivering himself up to pleasure, after the manner of a beast
he leapeth upon them, desiring to beget offspring according to
the flesh, and feareth not to have his conversation in lascivious-
ness, nor is ashamed of following after pleasure contrary to
nature. But he who hath lately partaken, who hath beheld
many of the Things There, when he seeth a face, or the figure
of a person, made in the very likeness of Beauty, first his flesh
trembleth, and awe of those things which he saw aforetime
entereth into his heart; then he looketh, and worshippeth the
Beautiful One as a God, and, were he not afraid that men
should account him a maniac, would offer sacrifice to his
Beloved, as to a graven image and a God. Then while he
looketh, after the trembling, as it useth to happen, sweating
and unwonted heat take hold of him, for he hath received the
effluxion of beauty through his eyes, and is made hot, so that
the wings in him are watered; for when he is made hot, the
parts where the wings sprout are melted, which before were
closed by reason of their hardness and hindered the feathers
Y
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252
322 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
bl / \ a a ” / \ Ὁ 4
ἐπιρρυείσης δὲ τῆς τροφῆς @dncé τε Kal ὥρμησε φύεσθαι
» Ν n e/ ε fa) a \ ς \ val \ ΕΝ
ἀπὸ τῆς ῥίζης ὁ τοῦ πτεροῦ καυλὸς ὑπὸ πᾶν τὸ τῆς
a 4 A \ 2 \ 4 /
ψυχῆς εἶδος: πᾶσα yap ἣν τὸ πάλαι πτερωτή.
al 4 “4 / A
Zeit οὖν ἐν τούτῳ ὅλη καὶ ἀνακηκίει, καὶ ὅπερ TO τῶν
> 4 / \ \ 3 ΘΩ͂ , “
ὀδοντοφυούντων πάθος περὶ τοὺς ὀδόντας γίγνεται, ὅταν
” 7 αὐ \ > 7, \ \ -
ἄρτι φύωσι, κνῆσίς τε καὶ ἀγανάκτησις περὶ τὰ οὗλα,
> \ \ ld id “ mn > / /
ταὐτὸν δὴ πέπονθεν ἡ τοῦ πτεροφυεῖν ἀρχομένου ψυχή"
a \ > a \ , 4 \ /
ζεῖ τε Kal ἀγανακτεῖ Kal γαργαλίζεται φύουσα τὰ πτερά.
0 9S / \ \ lal \ n
ὅταν μὲν οὖν βλέπουσα πρὸς TO τοῦ παιδὸς κάλλος, ἐκεῖθεν
/ > / \ e/ ἃ \ \ a “ a
μέρη ἐπιόντα καὶ ῥέοντα, ἃ δὴ διὰ ταῦτα ἵμερος καλεῖται,
ὃ / \ “ € 7 ὃ / - \ θ / Ἃ, co
εχομένη τὸν ἵμερον ἄρδηταί τε Kai θερμαίνηται, λωφᾷ τε
- .] 7 \ / Ψ \ \ / \
τῆς ὀδύνης καὶ γέγηθεν: ὅταν δὲ χωρὶς γένηται καὶ
> 7 \ a ὃ £06 / e \ \ e lel
αὐχμήσῃ, τὰ τῶν διεξόδων στόματα, ἣ TO πτερὸν ὁρμᾷ,
/ / > / \ / la) la
συναυαινόμενα μύσαντα ἀποκλείει THY βλάστην τοῦ πτεροῦ.
ς ἜΝ \ \ aA ee + ἃ 7 a ‘
ἡ δ᾽ ἐντὸς μετὰ τοῦ ἱμέρου ἀποκεκλῃμένη, πηδῶσα οἷον Ta
/ A / > / ς / lal > ς / [4
σφύζοντα, τῇ διεξόδῳ ἐγχρίει ἑκάστῃ τῇ καθ᾽ αὑτήν, ὥστε
doa κεντουμένη κύκλῳ ἡ ψυχὴ οἰστρᾷ καὶ ὀδυνᾶται
πᾶσ μένη oD» ἡ χὴ οἰστρέ ὀδυνᾶται.
> = / lal “ / ᾽ /
μνήμην ὃ av ἔχουσα Tov καλοῦ γέγηθεν. ἐκ δ᾽ ἀμφοτέρων
μεμιγμένων ἀδημονεῖ τε τῇ ἀτοπίᾳ τοῦ πάθους καὶ
> “ Led \ > \ δ ” \ /
ἀποροῦσα λυττᾷ, καὶ ἐμμανὴς οὖσα οὔτε νυκτὸς δύναται
/ 7 > / a A > a “
καθεύδειν οὔτε μεθ ἡμέραν, οὗ ἂν ἢ, μένειν, θεῖ δὲ ποθοῦσα
e 5) \ a
ὅπου ἂν οἴηται ὄψεσθαι τὸν ἔχοντα τὸ κάλλος. ἰδοῦσα
\ \ >? / “ » \ \ /
δὲ καὶ ἐποχετευσαμένη ἵμερον ἔλυσε μὲν τὰ τότε συμ-
/ > \ \ A / \ ᾽ /
πεφραγμένα, ἀναπνοὴν δὲ λαβοῦσα κέντρων τε Kal ὠδίνων
ἔληξεν, ἡδονὴν δ᾽ αὖ ταύτην γλυκυτάτην ἐν τῷ παρόντι
ἔληξεν, ἡδονὴ ν Ὑ nv ἐν τῷ παρ
lal ὅ0 ὃ) « “ ? > > / ἠδέ
καρποῦται. ὅθεν δὴ ἑκοῦσα εἶναι οὐκ ἀπολείπεται, οὐδέ
cr nr \ / a
τινα τοῦ καλοῦ περὶ πλείονος ποιεῖται, ἀλλὰ μητέρων TE
rn 4 / 7 >
καὶ ἀδελφῶν Kal ἑταίρων πάντων λέλησται, Kal οὐσίας δι
/ ᾽ \
ἀμέλειαν ἀπολλυμένης παρ᾽ οὐδὲν τίθεται, νομίμων δὲ καὶ
᾿ / \ nr > / /
εὐσχημόνων, ols πρὸ τοῦ ἐκαλλωπίζετο, πάντων KaTa-
7 ὃ / et / \ a ¢ nr bel
φρονήσασα δουλεύειν ἑτοίμη καὶ κοιμᾶσθαι ὅπου ἂν ἐᾷ τις
᾿ 7 a / 4 \ a / \ Ἀ
ἐγγυτάτω τοῦ πόθου" πρὸς γὰρ τῷ σέβεσθαι τὸν τὸ
THE ΠΑ δ᾽ MYTH 323
from growing. When, therefore, the nourishment floweth unto
them, the stalks of the feathers swell, and are moved for to
grow from their roots under the whole surface of the Soul ;
for aforetime the whole Soul was feathered. It cometh to
pass then that the whole Soul doth boil and bubble; and as
it happeneth unto those who are teething, when their teeth
are lately begun to grow, that there is an itching in their
gums and distress, even so doth it happen unto the Soul of
him who beginneth to put forth wings; for his Soul boileth
and is in distress and itcheth when she putteth forth her
feathers. When, therefore, she looketh upon the beauty of her
Beloved, parts (μέρη) come thence unto her in a stream (which
for this cause are called ἵμερος); and she, receiving them, is
watered and made hot, and ceaseth from her pain and rejoiceth.
But when she is parted from her Beloved and waxeth dry, the
mouths of the passages whereby the feathers shoot forth, being
parched and closed up, hinder the sprouting of the feathers,
which is shut in together with Desire, and leapeth as a man’s
pulse, beating against each passage that withstandeth it, so
that the whole Soul, being pricked on every side, is filled with
frenzy and travaileth: but contrariwise, having memory of the
Beautiful One, she rejoiceth ; so that this strange thing hap-
peneth unto her—her pain is mingled with joy, and she is
bewildered, and striveth to find a way, but findeth none; and,
being filled with madness, she cannot sleep by night nor stay
in one place by day, but runneth to and fro wistful, if per-
chance she may behold the One who possesseth that Beauty.
And, beholding, she draweth Desire from the channel thereof
unto her, and the entrances which were shut are opened, and
she taketh breath and ceaseth from her prickings and travail,
and instead thereof reapeth the sweetest pleasure for the
present time. Wherefore willingly she departeth not, esteem-
ing no one more highly than the Beloved; but mother, and
brethren, and all her friends, she forgetteth, and thinketh it
of no account that her substance is wasted through neglectful-
ness; and the things which are approved of men and of good
report, wherein she did aforetime take pride, all these she
now doth despise, and is willing to be a slave, and make her
lodging wheresoever she may come nearest unto her Love;
for she cometh not to worship only, but because she hath
324 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
\ δ / lal , U
κάλλος ἔχοντα ἰατρὸν εὕρηκε μόνον τῶν μεγίστων πόνων.
an 2 lal / e /
Β τοῦτο δὲ τὸ πάθος, ὦ παῖ καλέ, πρὸς ὃν δή μοι ὁ λόγος,
\ al
ἄνθρωποι μὲν "ἔρωτα ὀνομάζουσι, θεοὺ δὲ ὃ καλοῦσιν
» / ΡΟ Ν / / A / 7
ἀκούσας εἰκότως διὰ νεότητα γελάσει. λέγουσι δέ, οἶμαι,
\ e a > A > / Ε] a / ” ᾽ \
tives ‘Ounpiddv ἐκ τῶν ἀποθέτων ἐπῶν δύο ἔπη εἰς τὸν
᾽ Ν
Ἔρωτα, ὧν τὸ ἕτερον ὑβριστικὸν πάνυ καὶ οὐ σφόδρα τι
ΝΜ e “ \ 8 ἄ
ἔμμετρον. ὑμνοῦσι δὲ ὧδε
τὸν δ᾽ ἤτοι θνητοὶ μὲν "ἔρωτα καλοῦσι ποτηνόν,
σ ἀθάνατοι δὲ Πτέρωτα διὰ πτερόφοιτον ἀνάγκην.
“
/ \ \ / “ Ν
τούτοις δὴ ἔξεστι μὲν πείθεσθαι, ἔξεστι δὲ μή" ὅμως δὲ ἥ
> Se \ \ 7 A EA Ae Ὁ a 4 ”
ye αἰτία καὶ TO πάθος τῶν ἐρώντων TOUT ἐκεῖνο τυγχάνει OV.
- \ A «ς /
Τῶν μὲν οὖν Διὸς ὀπαδῶν ὁ ληφθεὶς ἐμβριθέστερον
δύ / \ nm / ” “ δὲ ast /
ύναται φέρειν TO τοῦ πτερωνύμου ἄχθος: ὅσοι de “Apews
/ \ 3 bd / / 4 δ Ὁ
τε θεραπευταί, καὶ μετ᾽ ἐκείνου περιεπόλουν, ὅταν ὑπ
» A an \ lal
Ἔρωτος ἁλῶσι καί τι οἰηθῶσιν ἀδικεῖσθαι ὑπὸ τοῦ
» / \ \ Ψ 4 e 4 \ \
ἐρωμένου, povixol καὶ ἕτοιμοι καθιερεύειν αὑτούς τε καὶ τὰ
/ \ « "] “ / a 4 S
Ὁ παιδικά. καὶ οὕτω καθ᾽ ἕκαστον θεόν, ov ἕκαστος ἣν
/ > lal lal \ / > \ 5 \
χορευτής, ἐκεῖνον τιμῶν TE Kal μιμούμενος εἰς TO δυνατὸν
A ¢ vn > > Ἵ \ \ Ὁ , /
ζῇ, ἕως av ἢ ἀδιάφθορος, Kal τὴν τῇδε πρώτην γένεσιν
4 \ 4 A / / \ ᾽ / \
βιοτεύει: Kal τούτῳ τῷ τρόπῳ πρὸς TE τοὺς ἐρωμένους καὶ
Ν \ ” e a \ / / φ
πρὸς τοὺς ἄλλους ομιλεῖ τε καὶ προσφέρεται. τὸν τε οὖν
Μ r nr \ / 5 / “ \ «ς
ἔρωτα τῶν καλῶν πρὸς τρόπου ἐκλέγεται ἕκαστος, καὶ ὡς
\ ee. > a ” ς A ΝΜ / /
θεὸν αὐτὸν ἐκεῖνον ὄντα ἑαυτῴ οἷον ἄγαλμα τεκταίνεταί TE
\ a e / \ ᾽ e \
Ε καὶ κατακοσμεῖ, ὡς τιμήσων Te Kal ὀργιάσων. οἱ μὲν δὴ
/ ΕΣ rn \ \
οὖν Διὸς Awov τινα εἶναι ζητοῦσι τὴν ψυχὴν Tov ὑφ᾽
ς - ᾽ ͵ a - ᾽ / \
αὑτῶν ἐρώμενον. σκοποῦσιν οὖν, εἰ φιλόσοφος τε Kal
᾿ \ \ / \ “ » \ ig / > r
ἡγεμονικὸς τὴν φύσιν, Kal ὅταν αὐτὸν evpovTes ἐρασθῶσι,
“ κ κ \ /
πᾶν ποιοῦσιν, ὅπως τοιοῦτος ἔσται. ἐὰν οὖν μὴ πρότερον
"»"ν ὰῶν
ΤῊΝ PHAFDRUS MYTH 325
found that the One who possesseth that Beauty is the sole
physician of her greatest troubles,
Now this affection, fair boy, unto whom my whole Dis-
course is dedicate, men call Eros; but as touching the name
which the Gods call it, when thou hearest it haply thou wilt
laugh because it is new—-for some of the disciples of Homer,
out of the Secret Verses, recite two verses unto Eros, whereof
one is very impudent, and not good in metre. Now these are
the verses of their hymn :—
Men call him Eros by name, surnaming him Eros the Flyer ;
Gods call him Pteros, because that he haunteth on Wings and compelleth.!
These things, then, it is permitted to a man to believe, or
believe not,as he is minded. Nevertheless, the case of those
that be in love, and their state, is that which hath been said.
Now, if it be one of the train of Zeus that is taken, he is
able more stoutly to bear the burden of him whose name is
Winged; but they who be servants of Ares, and made the
circuit along with him, when they are taken by Eros, and
think that they are injured in aught by the Beloved One, are
ready to shed blood and make a sacrifice of themselves and the
Beloved One. As each, then, was of the choir of a certain
God, him he honoureth alway, and maketh his example accord-
ing to his ability, so long as he is uncorrupt and liveth the
life of the first birth here; and in this manner likewise he
behaveth himself in his conversation toward the Beloved
Ones and other men.
It cometh to pass, then, that each man, according to his
natural temper, chooseth his Beloved and maketh him his God,
and fashioneth and adorneth him as a graven image, to honour
him and celebrate mysteries before him. They, therefore, who
are of the company of Zeus, seeking for a Beloved One like unto
Zeus in soul, inquire whether some one be by nature a lover of
True Wisdom and able to rule; and when they have found what
they seek, and are fallen in love, they do all so that the Beloved
One shall be altogether such as they seek, to wit, like unto
Zeus. Then, indeed, if they have not already made a begin-
1 —reading πτερόφοιτον ἀνάγκην. Some MSS. and Stobaeus read πτεροφύτορ᾽
ἀνάγκην, where the improperly lengthened v may be thought to justify the οὐ
σφόδρα τι ἔμμετρον further. ᾿Αθάνατοι δὲ IIrépwra by itself, however, is bad
enough.
326 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Σ a a 3 / / ’ / ,
ἐμβεβῶσι τῷ ἐπιτηδεύματι, τότε ἐπιχειρήσαντες μανθάνουσι
Ὁ ” / \ bd \ / > /
τε ὅθεν av τι δύνωνται καὶ αὐτοὶ μετέρχονται. ἰἐχνεύοντες
\ ᾽ e a > / \ na / “ 4
δὲ παρ᾽ ἑαυτῶν ἀνευρίσκειν τὴν τοῦ σφετέρου θεοῦ φύσιν,
᾽ Ἂ \ \ , > / \ \ \
253 εὐποροῦσι διὰ TO συντόνως ἠναγκάσθαι πρὸς τὸν θεὸν
/ \ > , > n A / > nm 5
βλέπειν, καὶ ἐφαπτόμενοι αὐτοῦ τῇ μνήμῃ ἐνθουσιῶντες ἐξ
/ ο
ἐκείνου λαμβάνουσι τὰ ἔθη καὶ τὰ ἐπιτηδεύματα, καθ᾽ ὅσον
ὃ \ θ » » / an \ ͵ ὃ} Ν
υνατὸν θεοῦ ἀνθρώπῳ μετασχεῖν. καὶ τούτων δὴ τὸν
> / ᾽ / » an > Ὁ ΕΝ 5 Ν
ἐρώμενον αἰτιώμενοι ETL τε μᾶλλον ἀγαπῶσι, κἂν ἐκ Διὸς
De “ ς ,ὕ a. aN \ “- 5 7 \
ἀρύτωσιν ὥσπερ αἱ βάκχαι, ἐπὶ τὴν τοῦ ἐρωμένου ψυχὴν
9 “ al id \ id / lal /
ἐπαντλοῦντες ποιοῦσιν ὡς δυνατὸν ὁμοιότατον τῷ σφετέρῳ
A ¢/ \ n
Βθεῴ. ὅσοι δ᾽ ad μεθ’ Ἥρας εἵποντο, βασιλικὸν ζητοῦσι,
«
\ ¢ / \ n / n \ > / e \
καὶ εὑρόντες περὶ τοῦτον πάντα δρῶσι τὰ αὐτά. οἱ δὲ
/ / an na \ \ \
᾿Απολλωνὸς τε Kal ἑκάστου τῶν θεῶν οὕτω κατὰ τὸν θεὸν
Ε ἴω Ν 7 A / \ Ψ
ἰόντες ζητοῦσι τὸν σφέτερον παῖδα πεφυκέναι, καὶ ὅταν
/ Vd > / \ \ ὃ \ (0
κτήσωνται, μιμούμενοι αὐτοί τε καὶ τὰ παιδικὰ πείθοντες
\ € / >? \ > / > / Ἁ 50.) ΝΜ
καὶ ῥυθμίξοντες εἰς τὸ ἐκείνου ἐπιτήδευμα καὶ ἰδέαν ἄγουσιν,
td / / > / 7
ὅση ἑκάστῳ δύναμις, οὐ φθόνῳ οὐδ᾽ ἀνελευθέρῳ δυσμενείᾳ
, Ν \ / > > > ς / e al \
χρώμενοι πρὸς TA παιδικά, ἀλλ᾽ εἰς ὁμοιότητα αὑτοῖς Kai
a lal ἃ A a al / “ / /
Οτῴ θεῷ, ὃν ἂν τιμῶσι, πᾶσαν πάντως 6 TL μάλιστα πειρώ-
A e/ a / \ 5S a «ς
μενοι ἄγειν οὕτω ποιοῦσι. προθυμία μὲν οὖν τῶν ὡς
a , / 4
ἀληθῶς ἐρώντων καὶ τελετή, ἐάν ye διαπράξωνται ὃ προ-
a A / e/ / \ > Ἁ ς \ lal
θυμοῦνται, ἣν λέγω, οὕτω καλή τε Kal εὐδαιμονικὴ ὑπὸ τοῦ
> a ͵ , \ ε A
du ἔρωτα μανέντος φίλου τῷ φιληθέντι γίγνεται, ἐὰν αἱρεθῆ.
id lal /
ἁλίσκεται δὲ δὴ ὁ αἱρεθεὶς τοιῷδε τρόπῳ.
al a “ / Lal /
Καθάπερ ἐν ἀρχῇ τοῦδε τοῦ μύθου τριχῇ διειλόμην
\ / / \ \
Ὁ ψυχὴν ἑκάστην, ἱππομόρφω μὲν δύο τινὲ εἴδη, ἡνιοχικὸν δὲ
16 / \ nr STA ξ an al / lal δὲ ὃ}
εἶδος τρίτον, καὶ νῦν ἔτι ἡμῖν ταῦτα μενέτω. τῶν δὲ δὴ
,ἷ ς / / e > \ \ ‘ fal
ἵππων ὁ μέν, φαμέν, ἀγαθός, ὁ δ᾽ οὔ: ἀρετὴ δὲ τίς τοῦ
> - Δ - , > , nr \ / e
ἀγαθοῦ ἢ κακοῦ κακία, ov διείπομεν, viv δὲ λεκτέον. ὁ
\ / > re > a / 7 XA / ὃ
μὲν τοίνυν αὑτοῖν ἐν τῇ καλλίονι στάσεν WY τὸ TE εἰδος
ὀρθὸς καὶ διηρθρωμένος, ὑψαύχην, ἐπίγρυπος, λευκὸς ἰδεῖν,
THE PHAEDRUS MYTH 327
ning of this endeavour, do they take the matter in hand, and
both learn from whomsoever they are able to learn, and them-
selves pursue the knowledge thereof; and questioning in their
own souls to find therefrom the nature of their own God, they
seek not in vain, because that they are constrained to look
steadfastly upon their God, and by memory lay hold on him,
and, being filled with his spirit, receive of him their habitudes
and way of life, so far as man can partake of God. Whereof
they account the Beloved One the cause, and therefore have
they the more pleasure in him; and if the river, wherefrom
even as Bacchae they draw their nourishment, flow from Zeus,
then do they turn the waters thereof upon the Soul of the
Beloved One, and make it as like unto their own God as is
possible.
He who was of the train of Hera seeketh after one who is
Royal, and having found, doth in all things as the follower of
Zeus doth. He who was of the train of Apollo or of any
other God, observing the nature of his own God, seeketh to
have a comrade of the like nature; and when he hath gotten
such an one, he taketh the God for an example unto himself, and
teaching and guiding, bringeth the Beloved One also unto the
way and likeness of the God as far as can be, striving without
envy or grudging or malice by all means to bring the Beloved
One unto the full likeness of himself and of whichsoever God
he himself honoureth.
The Desire, then, of them that truly love, and their Initia-
tion, if they accomplish that which they desire, is verily a fair
and blessed boon bestowed, by the friend whom Love hath
made mad, upon him whom he hath chosen for his friend, and
caught. Now, it is after this wise that he is caught. Whereas
at the beginning of this Tale we said that each Soul hath three
parts—two thereof in the form of Horses, and the third part in
the form of a Charioteer; so now we would have this remain
as it was then told, and that one of the Horses is good and
the other is not. But what is the virtue of the good Horse
and the illness of the evil Horse we did not declare; now,
therefore, must we tell it.
That one of the two which hath the more honourable
station, in form is straight and well-knit, with a high neck and
an arched nose, in colour white, with black eyes, a lover of
328 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
/ A \ \ ΄
μελανόμματος, τιμῆς ἐραστὴς μετὰ σωφροσύνης τε καὶ
lo - ’ cal ”
αἰδοῦς, καὶ ἀληθινῆς δόξης ἑταῖρος, ἄπληκτος κελεύματι
/ / “-“ ς / “"
Ἑ μόνον καὶ λόγῳ ἡνιοχεῖται' ὁ δ᾽ αὖ σκολιός, πολύς, εἰκῇ
/ /
συμπεφορημένος, Kpatepavynv, βραχυτράχηλος, σιμοπρόσ-
e/ ee \
@T0S, μελάγχρως, γλαυκόμματος, ὕφαιμος, ὕβρεως καὶ
> /, € a \ 9S / / 7 \
ἀλαζονείας ἑταῖρος, περὶ ὦτα λάσιος, κωφός, μάστιγι μετὰ
/ /
κέντρων μόγις ὑπείκων.
"“O δ᾽ “5 e εἰ ἰν δὰ \ > \ ΝΜ a
Tav οὖν ὁ ἡνίοχος ἰδὼν TO ἐρωτικὸν ὄμμα, πᾶσαν
7 \ / A /
αἰσθήσει διαθερμήνας τὴν ψυχήν, γαργαλισμοῦ τε Kal πόθου
/ ς a e \ bf \ a ς / a “
254 κέντρων ὑποπλησθῇ, ὁ μὲν εὐπειθὴς τῷ ἡνιόχῳ τῶν ἵππων,
5 \ / > na / e \ / \
ἀεί τε καὶ Tote αἰδοῖ βιαζόμενος, ἑαυτὸν κατέχει μὴ
ῷ
> δᾶ fal ΕΣ / Ε ς δὲ » Ul ς A ΝΜ
ἐπιπηδᾶν τῷ ἐρωμένῳ' ὁ δὲ οὔτε κέντρων ἡνιοχικῶν οὔτε
/ ” > / A \ / / \ /
μάστιγος ἔτι ἐντρέπεται, σκιρτῶν δὲ Bia φέρεται, καὶ πάντα
/ / A / / \ ς / > /
πράγματα παρέχων τῷ σύζυγί τε Kal ἡνιόχῳ ἀναγκάζει
7 Lal a A
ἰέναι τε πρὸς Ta παιδικὰ Kal μνείαν ποιεῖσθαι τῆς τῶν
> ὃ / / \ δὲ ᾽ > \ \ > /
ἀφροδισίων χάριτος. τὼ δὲ Kat ἀρχὰς μὲν ἀντιτείνετον
> a e \ 7 / > /
B ἀγανακτοῦντε, ws δεινὰ καὶ παράνομα ἀναγκαζομένω" τελευ-
κ 7 4 \ 3 / a / > /
τῶντε δέ, ὅταν μηδὲν ἢ πέρας κακοῦ, πορεύεσθον ἀγομένω,
" \ e / / \ / \
εἴξαντε Kal ομολογήσαντε ποιήσειν TO κελευόμενον. καὶ
Ν 3 a ᾽ ΡΥ. \ 3 \ ΝΜ \ a
πρὸς αὐτῷ τ᾽ ἐγένοντο καὶ εἶδον τὴν ὄψιν τὴν τῶν
n > / 50. / \ fal e / ¢ /
παιδικῶν ἀστράπτουσαν. ἰδόντος δὲ τοῦ ἡνιόχου ἡ μνήμη
ἴω 4 /
πρὸς τὴν τοῦ κάλλους φύσιν ἠνέχθη, καὶ πάλιν εἶδεν αὐτὴν
“Ὁ / A fal
μετὰ σωφροσύνης ἐν ἁγνῷ βάθρῳ βεβῶσαν. ἰδοῦσα δὲ
ΝΜ / \ a Re A ς / \ ¢ ᾽ 7
ἔδεισέ τε καὶ σεφθεῖσα ἀνέπεσεν ὑπτία, καὶ ἅμα ἠναγκάσθη
> > / ς / \ ee Ὁ / “ ᾿ ἃ \
Ο εἰς τοὐπίσω ἑλκύσαι τὰς ἡνίας οὕτω σφόδρα, ὥστε ἐπὶ τὰ
> / »” 7 \ ~ \ \ ς / \ \ \
ἰσχία ἄμφω καθίσαι τὼ ἵππω, τὸν μὲν ἑκόντα Sia TO μὴ
\ ” /
ἀντιτείνειν, τὸν δὲ ὑβριστὴν μάλα ἄκοντα. ἀπελθόντε δὲ
> / c \ ee > / \ 7 ς a a
ἀπωτέρω, ὁ μὲν ὑπ᾽ αἰσχύνης τε Kal θάμβους ἱδρῶτι πᾶσαν
\ ¢ / / n > 4 \ lal
ἔβρεξε τὴν ψυχήν, ὁ δέ, AnEas τῆς ὀδύνης, ἣν ὑπὸ τοῦ
a “ / / /
χαλινοῦ τε ἔσχε Kal τοῦ πτώματος, μόγις ἐξαναπνεύσας
/ a / / /
ἐλοιδόρησεν ὀργῇ, πολλὰ κακίζων Tov τε ἡνίοχον Kal τὸν
c / ΄ 7 \ > / / \ / \
Ὁ ὁμόζυγα ὡς δειλίᾳ τε καὶ ἀνανδρίᾳ λιπόντε τὴν τάξιν καὶ
err
THE PHAEDRUS MYTH 329
honour in all temperance and modesty, a friend of true glory,
needing not the whip, being guided by the mere word of the
Charioteer. But the other Horse is crooked, lumpish, ill-jointed,
with a stiff neck, a short throat, a snub nose, in colour black,
with grey eyes, sanguineous, a friend of lust and boastfulness,
hairy about the ears, deaf, hardly submitting himself to the
lash and the pricks.
Now when the Charioteer beholdeth the Vision of Love,
and his whole Soul is warmed throughly by the sight, and he
is altogether full of itchings and the prickings of desire, then
that Horse which is obedient to the Charioteer, being con-
strained then and alway by modesty, holdeth himself back
from rushing upon the Beloved One; but the other Horse
eareth no longer fer the Charioteer’s pricks nor for his whip,
but pranceth, and with violence chargeth, and, striving with
his fellow and with the Charioteer, compelleth them to go
unto the Beloved One and make mention of the sweetness of
carnal love. At first the twain resist, taking it ill that they
are constrained unto wickedness; but at the last, since their
evil state hath no ending, they go as the evil Horse leadeth,
yielding themselves up, and consenting to do what he biddeth.
Moreover, now are they come near, and see the countenance of
the Beloved One gloriously shining. Which when the Charioteer
seeth, his memory’is straightway carried back unto the Form
of the Eternal Beauty. Her he again beholdeth standing girt
with temperance upon her holy pedestal; and, beholding her,
he is filled with fear and reverence, and falleth backward, and
thereat must needs pull the reins back with force, so that he
bringeth both the Horses down upon their haunches—the one
willingly, because that he resisteth not, but the lascivious one
against his will altogether.
Now when the two Horses are come away a little further
from the Beloved, the one, by reason of his shame and panic,
wetteth all the Soul with sweat; and the other, having ceased
from the pain which he had from the bit and from his falling
down, hardly recovering breath, in anger upbraideth, and
heapeth curses upon, the Charioteer and his fellow Horse,
saying that, because of cowardice and weak-heartedness, they
have left their place appointed unto them and the promise
which they made.
330 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
e ,ὔ \ 7 > »2 ἢ / 5 /
ὁμολογίαν. Kal πάλιν οὐκ ἐθέλοντας προσιέναι ἀναγκάζων
, κ / /
μόγις συνεχώρησε, δεομένων εἰσαῦθις ὑπερβαλέσθαι. ἐλθὸν-
\ lal / / - ’ a
τος δὲ τοῦ συντεθέντος χρόνου, [οὗ] ἀμνημονεῖν προσποιου-
/ ᾽ / / / > /
μένω ἀναμιμνήσκων, βιαζόμενος, χρεμετίζων, ἕλκων ἠνάγκασεν
“- A a A ; os," \ ᾽ \ / \
αὖὗ προσελθεῖν τοῖς παιδικοῖς ἐπὶ τοὺς αὐτοὺς λόγους. καὶ
> \ > \ εν 5 / \ > / \ / >
ἐπειδὴ ἐγγὺς ἦσαν, ἐγκύψας καὶ ἐκτείνας τὴν κέρκον ἐνδα-
¢e
\ \ \ ’ > / ¢ > ες Δ »
κὼν τὸν χαλινὸν μετ᾽ ἀναιδείας ἕλκει. ὁ δ᾽ ἡνίοχος ἔτι
Ἑ μᾶλλον ταὐτὸν πάθος παθών, ὥσπερ ἀπὸ ὕσπληγος ἀναπε-
255
B
a fa) lal 7 a »O/
σών, ἔτι μᾶλλον τοῦ ὑβριστοῦ ἵππου ἐκ τῶν ὀδόντων Bia
3 / / \ / / / “
ὀπίσω σπάσας τὸν χαλινὸν, THY τε κακήγορον γλῶτταν
\ ,
καὶ τὰς γνάθους καθήμαξε καὶ τὰ σκέλη τε καὶ τὰ ἰσχία
Ν \ na > / Ψ 7 yy “ \ > Ν
πρὸς τὴν γῆν ἐρείσας ὀδύναις ἔδωκεν. ὅταν δὲ ταὐτὸν
e \ a ς ΄
πολλάκις πάσχων ὁ πονηρὸς τῆς ὕβρεως λήξῃ, ταπεινωθεὶς
od "ὃ a ἴω ς / ,ὔ \ Ψ ἴδ Ν
ἕπεται ἤδη τῇ τοῦ ἡνιόχου προνοίᾳ, καὶ ὅταν ἴδῃ τὸν
/ / ῳ / . 5 \ n
καλόν, φόβῳ διόλλυται. ὥστε ξυμβαίνει tor ἤδη τὴν τοῦ
5 a \ Lal “ > , ἢ a
ἐραστοῦ ψυχὴν τοῖς παιδικοῖς αἰδουμένην τε καὶ δεδοικυῖαν
ἕπεσθαι.
cr / / /
“Ate οὖν πᾶσαν θεραπείαν ws ἰσόθεος θεραπευόμενος
> ς Ν / ~ os ve b] ᾿] > “ rn
οὐχ ὑπὸ σχηματιζομένου τοῦ ἐρῶντος, ἀλλ᾽ ἀληθῶς τοῦτο
/ ᾿ > \ bal / / >’ > \ ΝΜ
πεπονθότος, καὶ αὐτὸς ὧν φύσει φίλος [εἰς ταὐτὸν ἄγει
\ / A / 3\ ” \ » “Ὁ / ς \
τὴν φιλίαν] τῷ θεραπεύοντι, ἐὰν apa Kai ἐν τῷ πρόσθεν ὑπὸ
rn ’ / 3 /
ξυμφοιτητῶν ἤ τινων ἄλλων διαβεβλημένος ἢ, λεγόντων,
r > \ 7 A / \ \ a > Ὁ Ἁ
ὡς αἰσχρὸν ἐρῶντι πλησιάζειν, καὶ διὰ τοῦτο ἀπωθῇ τὸν
> "-“ of \ Μ lal / [ id / \ \
ἐρῶντα, προϊόντος δὲ ἤδη Tod χρόνου ἥ τε ἡλικία Kal TO
\ ” > \ ἐσθ > \ > e ri > \
χρεὼν ἤγαγεν εἰς TO προσέσθαι αὐτὸν εἰς ὁμιλίαν. οὐ γὰρ
a \ \
δήποτε εἵμαρται κακὸν κακῷ φίλον οὐδ᾽ ἀγαθὸν μὴ φίλον
, 6 co = / δὲ \ / \ e /
ayalw εἰναι. προσεμένου ὃὲ καὶ AOYoY TE καὶ ομιλίαν
/ ᾽ ͵ e ” / ‘a > lal 5 /
δεξαμένου, ἐγγύθεν ἡ εὔνοια γιγνομένη τοῦ ἐρῶντος ἐκπλήττει
/ τ ’ /
Tov ἐρώμενον, διαισθανόμενον, ὅτε οὐδ᾽ οἱ ξύμπαντες ἄλλοι
/ ‘ > 5 nr / > / /
φίλοι τε Kal οἰκεῖοι μοῖραν φιλίας οὐδεμίαν παρέχονται
THE ΗΑ ΠΝ MYTH 331
Then again, when they are not willing to go near, he
constraineth them, and hardly consenteth when they beseech
that the matter may be deferred to some other time: and
when the time agreed upon cometh, and the two make
pretence of not remembering, he putteth them in mind, and
pulleth them with force, neighing, and compelling them again
to come near for to speak the same words unto the Beloved ;
and when they are come near, he bendeth down his head, and
stretcheth out his tail, and biteth the bit, and pulleth it
shamelessly. But the Charioteer, being moved in his heart
this second time as the first time, yea more exceedingly,
falleth backward as it were from before the barrier at the
starting place of the racecourse, and more violently doth draw
the bit unto him from the teeth of the lascivious Horse, and
maketh his cursing tongue and his jaws bloody, and presseth
his legs and haunches to the earth, and delivereth him up to
torment.
Now when the evil Horse, having oft-times suffered the
same correction, ceaseth from his wantonness, being humbled,
he followeth the guidance of the Charioteer, and, whenever he
seeth the Beautiful One, is brought to naught with terror.
So it cometh to pass in the end that the Soul of the Lover
followeth the Beloved One in reverence and fear.
The Beloved then being served as a God with all service,
by one who maketh not a pretence of love but loveth truly,
and being by nature a friend unto him who serveth, even
though in time past fellow disciples and others have made
mischief with their tongues, saying that it is not seemly to come
near unto a Lover, and though by reason of this the Beloved
hath rejected the Lover, yet in process of time do ripeness
of age and need of him cause the Beloved to receive the Lover
into companionship ; for surely it hath never been ordained that
evil shall be friend to evil, or good shall not be friend to good.
When, therefore, the Beloved receiveth the Lover, and
hath accepted his speech and companionship, then doth the
good-will of the Lover drawing very nigh fill the Beloved with
amazement; and lo! in comparison with this friend who hath
in him the spirit of God, not even the whole company of
other friends and kinsfolk provideth any portion at all of
friendship !
332 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
\ \ “ a
πρὸς τὸν ἔνθεον φίλον. ὅταν δὲ χρονίζῃ τοῦτο δρῶν καὶ
/ \ a ΤῊ 4 / > a
πλησιάζῃ μετὰ τοῦ ἅπτεσθαι ἔν τε γυμνασίοις Kal ἐν ταῖς
» e , γε Ψ δ Ρ ς a AE / ᾽ / , a
σ ἄλλαις ὁμιλίαις, TOT ἤδη ἡ TOD ῥεύματος ἐκείνου πηγή, ὃν
\ / a / \
ἵμερον Leds Lavuundovs ἐρῶν ὠνόμασε, πολλὴ φερομένη
\ \ > / ς Ν > > \ Μ ς ᾽ >
πρὸς τὸν ἐραστήν, ἡ μὲν εἰς αὐτὸν ἔδυ, ἡ δ᾽ ἀπομεστου-
ΝΜ > A \ Φ ‘a Μ > \ >’ \ /
μένου ἔξω ἀπορρεῖ: καὶ οἷον πνεῦμα ἤ τις ἠχὼ ἀπὸ λείων
a /
Te Kal στερεῶν ἁλλομένη πάλιν ὅθεν ὡρμήθη φέρεται, οὕτω
τὸ τοῦ κάλλους ῥεῦμα πάλιν εἰς τὸν καλὸν διὰ τῶν ὀμμά-
7 φ / “ὃν \ \ »7 > , \
των Lov, ἢ πέφυκεν ἐπὶ THY ψυχὴν ἰέναι, ἀφικόμενον καὶ
> fal \ ὃ 48 a “ Μ \ σ“
Ὁ ἀναπτερῶσαν τὰς διόδους τῶν πτερῶν ἄρδει τε καὶ ὥρμησε
- \ Ν rn ᾽ / 93 \ ΝΜ
πτεροφυεῖν τε, καὶ τὴν τοῦ ἐρωμένου av ψυχὴν ἔρωτος
δι τ 5 οὖς \ 5 ¢ 7 b) a \ +m Ὁ
ἐνέπλησεν. ἐρᾷ μὲν οὖν, ὅτου δέ, ἀπορεῖ" Kal οὔθ᾽ ὅ τι
᾽ >
πέπονθεν οἷδεν οὐδ ἔχει φράσαι, ἀλλ’ οἷον am ἄλλου
/ a e
ὀφθαλμίας ἀπολελαυκὼς πρόφασιν εἰπεῖν οὐκ ἔχει, ὥσπερ
\ > / 2 A eed | € \ wig ae / \
δὲ ἐν κατόπτρῳ ἐν T@ ἐρῶντι ἑαυτὸν ὁρῶν λέληθε. καὶ
ced \ > a lal 7 \ > \ ? / nq ᾽ /
ὅταν μὲν ἐκεῖνος παρῇ, λήγει κατὰ ταὐτὰ ἐκείνῳ τῆς ὀδύνης"
[τὰ ied A a
ὅταν δὲ ἀπῇ, κατὰ ταὐτὰ αὖ ποθεῖ καὶ ποθεῖται, εἴδωλον
Ἑ ἔρωτος ἀντέρωτα ἔχων' καλεῖ δὲ αὐτὸν καὶ οἴεται οὐκ
a ,
ἔρωτα, ἀλλὰ φιλίαν εἶναι. ἐπιθυμεῖ δὲ ἐκείνῳ παραπλησίως
> θ / de <A ¢ θ -“ a
μέν, ἀσθενεστέρως δὲ ὁρᾶν, ἅπτεσθαι, φιλεῖν, συγκατακεῖ-
/ al rn a
σθαι. καὶ δή, οἷον εἰκός, ποιεῖ TO μετὰ τοῦτο ταχὺ ταῦτα.
> Ss κ / a \ > a e > / “
ἐν οὖν τῇ συγκοιμήσει τοῦ μὲν ἐραστοῦ ὁ ἀκόλαστος ἵππος
” “ / \ \ Ef \ ᾽ a > \ a
ἔχει ὅ TL λέγει πρὸς τὸν ἡνίοχον, καὶ ἀξιοῖ ἀντὶ πολλῶν
/ nr e al an
256 πόνων σμικρὰ ἀπολαῦσαι' ὁ δὲ τῶν παιδικῶν ἔχει μὲν οὐδὲν
᾽ a a \ \ > a ’ὔ \ > \
εἰπεῖν, σπαργῶν δὲ Kal ἀπορῶν περιβάλλει τὸν ἐραστὴν
\ a / > ” > / Ψ
καὶ φιλεῖ, ὡς σφόδρ εὔνουν ἀσπαζόμενος, ὅταν τε συγκατα-
a “- /
κέωνται, οἷός ἐστι μὴ ἂν ἀπαρνηθῆναι τὸ αὑτοῦ μέρος
lo -" , A « \ ε / s
χαρίσασθαι τῷ ἐρῶντι, εἰ δεηθείη τυχεῖν: ὁ δὲ ὁμόζυξ αὖ
rn rn ᾽ lal /
μετὰ τοῦ ἡνιόχου πρὸς ταῦτα μετ΄ αἰδοῦς καὶ λόγου
ἀντιτείνει.
᾽ “" / \ /
Eav μὲν δὴ οὖν εἰς τεταγμένην τε δίαιταν καὶ φιλοσοφίαν
/ \ / a , > / 7 \ \
νικήσῃ τὰ βελτίω τῆς διανοίας ἀγαγόντα, μακάριον μὲν καὶ
΄ a \ PE \
B ὁμονοητικὸν τὸν ἐνθάδε βίον διάγουσιν, ἐγκρατεῖς αὑτῶν Kai
THE ῬΑ MYTH 333
Now when the Beloved continueth for awhile in this, and
cometh near unto the Lover, touching him in the gymnasia
and other places where they meet, then at last the fountain of
that stream which Zeus, loving Ganymede, called by the name
of Himeros, floweth mightily toward the Lover, and part
thereof goeth down into him, and, when he is filled to over-
flowing, the other part runneth out: and even as the wind, or
a voice, leapeth back from the smooth rock and rusheth to the
place whence it came, so doth the Stream of Beauty return
unto the Beautiful One through the Eyes, which is the natural
way unto the Soul; and when it is come thither, it giveth
the Soul wings—it watereth the passages of the feathers, and
causeth them to sprout; and the Soul of the Beloved also is
filled with love. The Beloved loveth, but knoweth not whom,
nor hath understanding of what hath come to pass, for to
tell it; but is like unto a man who hath been smitten with
disease of the eyes by another man, but cannot tell the cause
thereof; or like unto one who seeth himself in a glass, and
knoweth not that it is himself, so doth the Lover stand as a
glass before the Beloved: and when the Lover is present, the
Beloved ceaseth from the pain of Love, even as the Lover also
ceaseth ; and when the Lover is absent, the Beloved longeth
after him and is longed after, having Love-for-Love which is
the Image of Love, yet calling and deeming it not Love but
Friendship; and the Beloved desireth, even as the Lover
desireth, but less vehemently, to see, to touch, to kiss, to
embrace—and doeth this quickly thereafter, as is lke; con-
cerning which the lascivious Horse of the Lover’s Soul hath
somewhat to say unto the Charioteer, and demandeth of him
a little enjoyment as the reward of many labours. But the
Horse of the Beloved hath nothing to say, but being swollen
with desire, and knowing not what he doeth, throweth his
arms round the Lover and kisseth him, greeting him as a dear
friend, and when, they are come close unto each other, is ready
to grant unto him all that he asketh; while the fellow Horse,
obedient unto the Charioteer in all modesty and reasonable-
ness, withstandeth. Wherefore, if then the better parts of
the mind prevail, and lead the Soul into a constant way of
life and true wisdom, then are men, all the days of their life
here, blessed and at peace with themselves, having the mastery
σ
257
334 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
" » , \ > ; A > ,
κόσμιοι ὄντες, δουλωσάμενοι μὲν ᾧ κακία ψυχῆς ἐνεγίγνετο,
, τ / , / /
ἐλευθερώσαντες δὲ ᾧ ἀρετή" τελευτήσαντες δὲ δή, ὑπόπτεροι
\ > \ / A a / a e
καὶ ἐλαφροὶ γεγονότες, τῶν τριῶν παλαισμάτων τῶν ὡς
ἀχηθῶς ᾿Ολυμπιακῶν ν νενικήκασιν, οὗ μεῖζον ἀγαθὸν οὔτε
/ > / ” / / ὃ \ i
σωφροσύνη ἀνθρωπίνη οὔτε θεία μανία δυνατὴ πορίσαι
/ /
ἀνθρώπῳ. ἐὰν δὲ δὴ διαίτῃ φορτικωτέρᾳ τε καὶ ἀφιλοσόφῳ,
/ \ / | A ee b] / ΝΜ ΝΜ
φιλοτίμῳ δὲ χρήσωνται τάχ av Tov ἐν μέθαις ἤ τινι ἄλλῃ
> / \ b / ᾽ a ς / / \ \
ἀμελείᾳ τὼ ἀκολάστω αὐτοῖν ὑποζυγίω λαβόντε Tas ψυχὰς
> 7 / > > / \ ς Ν lal a
ἀφρούρους, Evvayayovte εἰς TavTov, THY ὑπὸ τῶν πολλῶν
\ “ - 7 \ / \
μακαριστὴν αἵρεσιν εἱλέτην τε καὶ διεπράξαντο: καὶ
διαπραξαμένω τὸ λοιπὸν ἤδ ὥνται μὲν αὐτῇ, σπανίᾳ δέ
ρᾶξαμ On XP μ HE Z O€,
ἅτε ov πάσῃ δεδογμένα τῇ διανοίᾳ πράττοντες. φίλω μὲν
7 Pf at H 5 ἘΝ . μ
e / / fal
οὖν Kal τούτω, ἧττον δὲ ἐκείνων ἀλλήλοιν διά TE TOD
» \ » / ὃ , Ν ,ὔ
ἔρωτος καὶ ἔξω γενομένω διάγουσι, πίστεις τὰς μεγίστας
ἡγουμένω ἀλλήλοιν δεδωκέναι τε καὶ δεδέχθαι, ἃς οὐ θεμιτὸν
εἶναι λύσαντας εἰς ἔχθραν ποτὲ ἐλθεῖν. ἐν δὲ τῇ τελευτῇ
Ν / e / δὲ al θ > / “
ἄπτερον, μέν, ὡρμηκότες δὲ πτεροῦσθαι ἐκβαίνουσι τοῦ
/ e > \ 40 lel > ol /
σώματος, ὥστε οὐ σμικρὸν ἄθλον τῆς ἐρωτικῆς μανίας
/ ? \ / \ \ ΕΝ ἢ A / >
φέρονται" εἰς yap σκότον Kal τὴν ὑπὸ γῆς πορείαν οὐ
/ > \ Μ > a an / ” ral i /
νόμος ἐστὶν ἔτι ἐλθεῖν τοῖς κατηργμένοις ἤδη τῆς ὑπουρανίου
\ / nw "᾿
πορείας, ἀλλὰ φανὸν βίον διάγοντας εὐδαιμονεῖν μετ
᾽ / / \ e / 4 / “
ἀλλήλων πορευομένους, καὶ ομοπτέρους ἔρωτος χάριν, ὅταν
γένωνται, γενέσθαι.
Ταῦτα τοσαῦτα, ὦ παῖ, καὶ θεῖα οὕτω σοι δωρήσεται ἡ
> > a /, ς \ ᾽ \ a \ 2. ῖν ᾽ /
map ἐραστοῦ φιλία. ἡ δὲ ἀπὸ Tod μὴ ἐρῶντος οἰκειότης,
σωφροσύνῃ θνητῇ κεκραμένη, θνητά τε καὶ φειδωλὰ οἰκονο-
a ᾽ / ig \ / > , ¢ > \
μοῦσα, ἀνελευθερίαν ὑπὸ πλήθους ἐπαινουμένην ὡς ἀρετὴν
- “A la) / lal \ a
τῇ φίλῃ ψυχῇ ἐντεκοῦσα, ἐννέα χιλιάδας ἐτῶν περὶ γῆν
/ > \ \ e \ a Μ /
κυλινδουμένην αὐτὴν Kal ὑπὸ γῆς ἄνουν παρέξει.
THE PHAEDRUS MYTH 335
over themselves, doing all things in order, having brought into
bondage that part of the Soul wherein wickedness was found,
and having made that part free wherein virtue dwelleth; and
after this life is ended, they rise up lightly on their wings,
having gained the victory in the first of the three falls at the True
Olympic Games, than which victory no greater good can the
Temperance of Man or the Madness from God bestow on Man.
But if any take unto themselves a baser way of life,
seeking not after true wisdom but after honour, perchance
when two such are well drunken, or at any time take no heed
unto themselves, their two licentious Horses, finding their
Souls without watch set, and bringing them together, make
choice of that which most men deem the greatest bliss, and
straightway do enjoy it; and having once enjoyed it, they
have commerce with it afterward alway, but sparingly, for
they do that which is not approved of their entire mind.
Now these two also are friends unto one another, but in
less measure than those I before spake of, because they live
for a while in the bonds of love, and then for a while out of
them, and think that they have given and received the greatest
pledges betwixt each other, the which it is never allowed to
break and come to enmity one with another. When such do
end their life here and go forth from the body, they are
without wings, but have a vehement desire to get wings;
which is no small recompense they receive for Madness of
Love. Wherefore they are not compelled to go down unto
the darkness and the journey under the Earth, seeing that
they have already made a beginning of the heavenly journey ;
but they pass their time in the light of day, and journey
happily together Lover and Beloved, and when they get wings,
of the same feather do they get them, for their Love’s sake.
These are the gifts, dear boy—behold how many they are
and how divine !—which the friendship that cometh from the
Lover shall bestow on thee: but the conversation of him who
is no Lover, being mingled with the temperance of this
mortal life, and niggardly dispensing things mortal, begetteth
in the Soul of his friend that Covetousness which the multi-
tude praise as Virtue, and causeth her hereafter to wander,
devoid of understanding, round about the Earth and under the
Earth, for a thousand years nine times told.
336 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
OBSERVATIONS ON THE PHAEDRUS MYTH
I
I think it necessary, at the outset of my observations on
the Phaedrus Myth, to take notice—let it be brief—of the
tolerant, nay sympathetic, way in which Plato speaks (256 c-z)
of the ἐρωτικὴ μανία of those who are not “true lovers.” He
speaks eloquently of it as a bond which unites aspiring souls
in the after life. He speaks of those united by this bond as
getting wings of the same feather in Heaven for their love’s sake.
His language is as sympathetic as the language in which
Dante expresses his own sympathy, and awakens ours, with a
very different pair of winged lovers—Francesca and Paolo
flying together like storm-driven birds in Hell! It is
astounding that Plato should allow himself to speak in this
way. The explanation offered by Thompson ? does not enable
me to abate my astonishment :—The concluding portion of
the Myth, he tells us, “ which stands more in need of apology,”
ought to be considered in connection with the fact that the
entire Discourse is intended as a pattern of philosophical
Rhetoric, and is adapted, as all true Rhetoric must be, to the
capacity of the hearer—in this case, of Phaedrus, who is some-
what of a sensualist. It is still to me astounding that Plato
—even as dramatist in sympathy with the sensualism of one
of his dramatis personae, the youth to whom his “ Socrates ”
addresses this Rhetorical Paradigm, if that is what the
Phaedrus Myth is*—should have ventured to speak, as he
does here, of what he indeed elsewhere* condemns as un-
equivocally as Aristotle condemns it.°
The reflection, in most cases a trite one, that even the
best men are apt to become tolerant of the evil which pre-
vails in the manners of their age, is hardly, in this case, a
trite reflection, for it is such an oppressively sad one.
1 Inferno, v.
2 Phaedrus, p. 163.
3 I entirely dissent from the view that this Myth is merely a pattern of
hilosophical Rhetoric; and also from the consequential view (Thompson’s
lnteetanaen to Phaedrus, p. xix.), that it is mostly ‘‘a deliberate allegory,”’
unlike, it is added, other Pistols Myths in which the sign and the thing
signified are blended, and sometimes confused. See infra, p. 339.
4 Laws, viii. 841 Ὁ.
5 2. N. vii. 5. 3. 1148 Ὁ 29,
THE ΠΑΝ δ MYTH 337
II
In passing to the Phaedrus Myth (with which the Meno
Myth must be associated), we pass to a Myth in which the
“ Deduction of the Categories of the Understanding ” occupies
perhaps a more prominent place, by the side of the “ Repre-
sentation of Ideas of Reason,” than has been assigned to it
even in the Z7imaeus.
The mythological treatment of Categories of the Under-
standing stands on a different footing from that of “ Ideas
of Reason” in this important respect, that it is not the only
treatment of which these Categories are capable. The Ideas
of Reason, Soul, Cosmos, and God, if represented at all,
must be represented in Myth; and it is futile to attempt to
extract the truth of fact, by a rationalising process, out of
any representation of them, however convincing, as a repre-
sentation, it may appear to our deepest instinct. On the
other hand, Categories of the Understanding (eg. the notions
of Substance and of Cause), though, as a priori conditions of
sensible experience, they cannot be treated as if they were
data of that experience, are yet fully realised, for what they
are, in that experience, and only in it. Hence, while their
@ priort character may be set forth in Myth, the fact that,
unlike the Ideas of Reason, they are fully realised in sensible
experience, makes them also capable of logical treatment.
That they are capable of such treatment is obvious, when
one considers the advance, sound and great as measured by
influence in the physical sciences, which Logic has brought
about in our interpretation of the Notion, or Category, of
Cause, and that by discussions carried on quite apart from
the question of whether the Notion is present ὦ priori, or is
of α posteriort origin. We may say, however, that treatment
of Categories of the Understanding tends to become less
mythological and more logical as time goes on; but yet the
mythological treatment of them can never become obsolete—
it still remains the legitimate expression of a natural impulse,
the power of which—for evil—Kant recognises in his Tran-
scendental Dialectic. I call the mythological expression of
this impulse legitimate, because it is mythological, and not
pseudo-scientific.
Z
938 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
I take the Phaedrus Myth, along with the Meno Myth,
as an example of the Mythological Deduction of Categories
of the Understanding. The Eternal Forms seen by the Soul
in its prenatal life, as “remembered” in this life when
objects of sense present themselves, are Categories, although
the list of them is redundant and defective if we look at it
with Kant’s eyes, which I do not think we need do.
But although the Phaedrus Myth deduces Categories, it
represents Ideas as well. Plato, as I have been careful to
point out, does not anywhere distinguish Categories and Ideas
formally ; and the Phaedrus Myth, in particular, is one of the
most complex, as well as comprehensive, in the whole list of
the Platonic Myths. It deduces Categories, sets forth the
Ideas of Soul, Cosmos, and God, is Aetiological and Eschato-
logical, and, though a true Myth, is very largely composed
of elements which are Allegories. Its complexity and com-
prehensiveness are indeed so great that they have suggested
the theory—that of Diiring,’ with which, however, I cannot
agree—that the Myth is a Programme—a general view of a
whole consistent Eschatological Doctrine, which is worked out
in detail in the Gorgias, Phaedo, and Republic Myths.” In
the Phaedrus Myth alone, Diiring maintains, we have a
complete account of the whole History of the Soul—its
condition before incarnation, the cause of its incarnation, and
the stages of its life, incarnate, and disembodied, till it returns
to its original disembodied state. All this, he argues, is so
summarily sketched in the Phaedrus that we have to go to
the other Dialogues mentioned, in order to understand some
things in the Phaedrus rightly. In the Phaedrus Myth, in
short, we have “eine compendiarische Darstellung einer in
grosserer Ausfiirlichkeit vorschwebenden Conception.” The
Phaedrus Myth thus dealing, for whatever reason, with
everything that can be dealt with by a Myth, we shall do
well not to separate its Deduction of Categories, or Doctrine
of ἀνάμνησις, too sharply from the other elements of the
composition.
1 Die eschat. Myth. Platos, p. 476 (Archiv fiir Gesch. d. Philos, vi. (1893),
pp. 475 ff.).
2 Cf. Jowett and Campbell’s Republic, vol. iii. Ρ' 468. “The attempts of
Numenius, Proclus, and others to connect the Myth of Er with those in Gorg.,
Phaed., Phaedr,, Tim., so as to get a complete and consistent view of Plato’s
supra-mundane theories, only show the futility of such a method.”
THE PHAEDRUS MYTH 339
This Myth is part of the Discourse which Socrates
delivers, by way of recantation, in praise of Love. The non-
lover, indeed, is sane, but the madness of the lover is far
better than the other’s sanity. Madness is the source of all
that is good and great in human effort. There are four kinds
of it'—(1) the Prophet’s madness; (2) the madness of the
Initiated ; (3) the madness of the Poet; and (4) the madness
of the True Lover who is the True Philosopher. It is the
Transcendental History of the Soul as aspiring after this
True Love that is the main burden of the Myth. And here
let me say a few words, in passing, on the view maintained
by Thompson in his Introduction to the Phaedrus (p. xix.),”
that this Myth is, for the most part, “a deliberate Allegory.”
With this view I cannot agree. It ignores the fact that
a Myth is normally composed of elements which are Alle-
gories. The Chariot, with the Charioteer and two Horses,
is allegorical—it puts in pictorial form a result already
obtained by Plato’s psychological analysis, which has dis-
tinguished Reason, Spirit, and Appetite as “Parts of the
Soul.” But if the Chariot itself is allegorical, its Path
through the Heavens is mythic. Allegory employed as rough
material for Myth is frequent in the work of the Great
Masters, as notably in the greatest of all Myths—in the
Divina Commedia. <A striking instance there is the Pro-
cession, symbolic of the connection between the Old Dis-
pensation and the New, which passes before the Poet in the
Earthly Paradise (Purg. xxix. ff). The Visions of Ezekiel,
to which Dante is here indebted for some of his imagery, may
also be mentioned as instances of mythological compositions
built largely out of elements which are allegories. It is
enthusiasm and a living faith which, indeed, inspire the
mythopoeic or prophetic architect to build at all; but his
creative enthusiasm is often served by a curious diligence in
the elaboration of the parts.
Ill
I have identified the prenatal impression produced in the
Soul by the Eternal Forms seen in the Super-Celestial place
1 Phaedrus, 244. 2 Alluded to supra, p. 336.
940 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
with Categories, or a priori conditions of sensible experience,
and regarded the “ recollection” in this life of these Forms
seen in the prenatal life as equivalent to the effective opera-
tion of a priort Categories, or functions of the Understanding,
on the occasion of the presentation of objects of sense. I wish
now to meet an objection which may be brought against this
identification. Let us first look at the list of Eternal Forms
given in the Myth (247 oc, and 250 B). They are αὐτὴ
dixacocvyn—dJustice Itself; αὐτὴ cwppoovvyn—Temperance
Itself; ἀληθὴς ἐπιστήμη----Τγτυθ Knowledge; αὐτὸ κάλλος----
Beauty Itself; and are described as ὄντα dvtws—really ex-
istent, and ἀχρώματοί te καὶ ἀσχημάτιστοι Kal avadeis
ovoia.—without colour, without shape, intangible. Now
Justice Itself and Temperance Itself in this list cannot be
called Categories of the Understanding. They would seem
to correspond rather to “Categorical Imperative.” ᾿Αληθὴς
ἐπιστήμη, on the other hand, does cover the ground occupied
by Categories of the Understanding, if it does not cover more.
᾿Ἐπιστήμη is distinguished in the Meno (97, 98), as know-
ledge of the effect through its cause, from ὀρθὴ δόξα, empirical
knowledge of the detached effect; and the recognition of
necessary causal connection, thus identified with ἐπιστήμη, is
expressly said (98 A) to be ἀνάμνησις. If we consider how
close the Myth of ἀνάμνησις in the Meno (81 B) stands to
the Phaedrus Myth, we are bound to conclude that the ἀληθὴς
ἐπιστήμη, mentioned as one of the οὐσίαι seen by the Soul
in the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος, covers the a priort Category of
Cause, and, it is fair to add, the other Categories of the
Understanding by the use of which, within the limits of
possible experience, we ἰδ truth (ἐπιστήμη) is attained.
Further, while the presence or ἀληθὴς ἐπιστήμη among the
Eternal Essences or Forms entitles us to speak of a priori
Categories as domiciled in the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος ἡ of the
Phaedrus Myth, we need not quarrel with the presence of αὐτὴ
δικαιοσύνη, αὐτὴ σωφροσύνη, and αὐτὸ κάλλος in a list of
Categories ; the distinction between Categories of the Under-
standing and Ideas of Reason, as I have pointed out, is not
provided for in Plato’s philosophical language, and it is to
! These are ‘‘Categories which are already in things,” to use Professor
Pringle-Pattison’s expression (Scottish Philosophy, p. 140).
ΡΝ. ΜΙ
THE PHAERDRUS MYTH 341
be noticed that, in describing these Eternal Essences or Forms
of Justice, Temperance, and Beauty, he describes them as if
they were Categories “empty without sense ”"—that is, empty
except as “recollected” in this life on the occasion of the
presence of objects of sense; just as in the parallel passage in
the Meno (81 0), he speaks of the prenatal knowledge of
ἀρετή as “ recollected” in this life. It will be fair, then, 1
think, to call the list of Essences or Forms in the Phaedrus
Myth a list of Categories of the Understanding (included
under ἀληθὴς ἐπιστήμη), and of certain other a priori Forms
described as if they were Categories. As in the 7imaeus, so
in the Phaedrus Myth, the fact (ascertained, we may suppose,
by Plato as by Kant through introspection) that man brings
a priort principles to bear on his individual experience is
explained by an Aetiological Myth telling how the Soul in
its prenatal state goes round, so far as it is not hindered by
earthward inclination, with the revolution of the outermost
heavenly sphere, from the back, or convex surface, of which
is seen the ὑπερουράνιος tomos—the πεδίον ἀληθείας, where
the true food of the mind grows. The Eternal Truths which
grow on this Plain are apprehended by the gods perfectly ;
by other Souls, which are still within the κύκλος τῆς
γενέσεως, only in an interrupted and partial view; but,
we may suppose, in godlike manner by human Souls which
have been finally purified and released from the flesh for ever.
In proportion as a human Soul has “ recollection” of these
truths while it is in the flesh, in that proportion is it purified.
Among the Eternal Essences of the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος the
αὐτὸ κάλλος is that which is most easily “remembered,”
because it is more apparent in its visible copies than the
other Essences are in theirs (Phaedrus, 250 D). The Eternal
Beauty manifests itself to the eye in beautiful things more
clearly than the Eternal Justice, for instance, manifests itself
to the “moral sense” in actions, laws, and institutions.
Ἔρως, awakened by the sight of “beautiful things,’ is the
form taken by this “recollection” of the Eternal Beauty—an
impulse, at once emotional and intellectual, of the whole man,
by which he is carried on, through the apprehension of that
Essential Principle which is most easily apprehended, to the
apprehension also of the Essential Principles of Conduct and
342 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Science. Hence ἔρως, ἀνάμνησις, and φιλοσοφία are practi-
cally convertible terms," and mean amor intellectualis Dei.
This enthusiastic love of the beautiful “intelligible world,”
sharpening recollection till all forgetfulness is overcome, and
the Soul is made perfectly pure, and is redeemed from the flesh
for ever—this φιλοσοφία (to sum up all in a single word), being
a nisus which engages the whole man in one concentrated
endeavour, can only be felt and affirmed, cannot be explained.
It is the very Life of the Subject of all experience, and
cannot be treated as if it were an Object to be explained
scientifically in its place among other Objects like itself.
The Philosopher as conceived by Plato is an ardent Lover.
He lives all his earthly life in a trembling hope, and, out
of his hope, sees visions, and prophesies.
Plato, keenly appreciating the power with which expres-
sion of thought or feeling reacts on thought or feeling, spares
no pains in showing how to give artistic form to Myth, the
natural expression (if only as by-product) of the enthusiastic
philosophic nisus after self-realisation or purification. This
is the justification of the artistic Myth, for the construction
of which Plato supples models—that it helps to moderate
and refine and direct the aspirations, the hopes, the fears, the
curiosity, of which Myth is the natural expression. It will
be remembered what importance is attached, in the scheme of
education sketched in the Republic, to “good form” in the
mode of expressing not only literary meaning and musical
feeling, but also athletic effort. The form of expression is, as
it were, the vessel which contains and gives contour to the
character which expresses itself. We must be careful to see
that we have in our system of education good models of
expression into which, as into moulds, young character may
be poured. Apart from its bearing on education, the whole
question of the reaction of expression on that which expresses
itself is an interesting one, and may be studied in its biological
rudiments in Darwin’s work on the Hxpression of the Emotions
in Man and Animals.
1 So Dante (Conv. iii. 12), says, ‘‘ Filosofia ὁ uno amoroso uso di Sapienza” :
Amor is the Form, and Sapienza the Subject Matter of Filosofia (Conv. iii. 13,
14). So also Wordsworth, substituting ‘‘ Poetry” for ‘‘ Philosophy ” (Pref. to
Lyrical Ballads), “ Poetry is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge; it is
the impassioned expression which is in the countenance of all Science.”
THE PHALDRUS MYTH 343
I said that we should do well, considering the complexity
of the Phaedrus Myth, not to detach its Deduction of Cate-
gories or doctrine of ἀνάμνησις too much from the general
context. The doctrine of ἀνάμνησις is treated by Plato, in
the Phaedrus and Meno, as inseparable from the doctrine of
the prenatal existence and immortality of the Soul, and is
closely bound up with the Orphiec doctrine of κάθαρσις and
his own version of it—the doctrine of philosophic ἔρως. It
is impossible, then, to pledge Plato to belief in the literal truth
of the doctrine of ἀνάμνησις, unless we are prepared to go
with Zeller the length of thinking that he is in earnest in
believing that the Soul actually existed as a separate person
before it was born into this body, and will pass through a
series of incarnations after the death of this body. “If it be
impossible,” writes Zeller (Plato, pp. 404 ff, Eng. Tr.), “to
imagine the soul as not living, this must equally hold good
of the future and of the past; its existence can as little begin
with this life as end with it. Strictly speaking, it can never
have begun at all; for the soul being itself the source of all
motion, from what could its motion have proceeded? Accord-
ingly Plato hardly ever mentions immortality without alluding
to pre-existence, and his expressions are as explicit and
decided about the one as the other. In his opinion they
stand or fall together, and he uses them alike to explain the
facts of our spiritual life. We therefore cannot doubt that
he was thoroughly in earnest in his assumption of a pre-
existence. And that this pre-existence had no beginning is
so often asserted by him?‘ that a mythical representation like
that of the 7imaeus can hardly be allowed any weight to the
contrary. We must, nevertheless, admit the possibility that in
his later years he did not strictly abide by the consequences of
his system, nor definitely propound to himself whether the soul
had any historical beginning, or only sprang to its essential
nature from some higher principle.
“Tf the two poles of this ideal circle, Pre-existence and
Immortality, be once established, there is no evading the
doctrine of Recollection which les between them; and the
notions of Transmigration and of future rewards and punish-
ments appear, the more we consider them, to be seriously
1 Phaedrus, 245 c, Ὁ; Meno, 864.
344 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
meant. With regard to Recollection, Plato speaks in the
above-cited passages so dogmatically and definitely, and the
theory is so bound up with his whole system, that we must
unconditionally reckon it among the doctrinal constituents of
that system. The doctrine is an inference which could not
well be escaped if once the pre-existence of the soul were
admitted; for an existence of infinite duration must have left
in the soul some traces which, though temporarily obscured in
our consciousness, could not be for ever obliterated. But it is
also in Plato’s opinion the only solution of a most important
scientific question: the question as to the possibility of
independent inquiry—of thought transcending sensuous per-
ception. Our thought could not get beyond the Immediate
and the Actual; we could not seek for what is as yet unknown
to us, nor recognise in what we find the thing that we sought
for, if we had not unconsciously possessed it before we recognised
and were conscious of it... We could form no conception of
Ideas, of the eternal essence of things which is hidden from
our perception, if we had not attained to the intuition of
these in a former existence.2 The attempt of a modern work
to exclude the theory of Recollection from the essential
doctrines of the Platonic system * is therefore entirely opposed
to the teaching of Plato. The arguments for the truth and
necessity of this doctrine are not indeed, from our point of
view, difficult to refute; but it is obvious that from Plato’s
they are seriously meant.”
I venture to think that the doctrine of ἀνάμνησις, in
itself, and in its setting, is not intended by Plato to be taken
literally—that it is not Dogma but Myth. This view, for
which I may appeal to the authority of Leibniz and Coleridge,‘
1 Meno, 80 Ὁ ff.
2 Phaedo, 73 ὁ ff. and 76 pb.
5 Teichmiiller, Studien zur Gesch. d. Begriffe, pp. 208 ff.
4 Leibniz (Nowv. ss. Avant-propos) describes the Platonic doctrine of
Reminiscence as toute fabuleuse ; and Coleridge (Biog. Lit. ch. 22), speaking of
Wordsworth’s Ode on the Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Barly
Childhood, says : ‘‘ The ode was intended for such readers as had been accustomed
to watch the flux and reflux of their inmost nature, to venture at times into
the twilight realms of consciousness, and to feel a deep interest in modes of
inmost being, to which they know that the attributes of time and space are
inapplicable and alien, but which yet cannot be conveyed, save in symbols of
time and space. For such readers the sense is sufficiently plain, and they will be
as little disposed to charge Mr. Wordsworth with believing the Platonic pre-
existence in the ordinary interpretation of words, as I am to believe that Plato
himself ever meant or taught it.”
THE PHAREDRUS MYTH S45
seems to me to be borne out by the passage in the Meno'
dealing with ἀνάμνησις : ἀνάμνησις is presented there, in
accordance with Orphic belief, as becoming clearer and clearer
at each incarnation, till the soul at last attains to the blessed
life of a δαίμων. Can it be maintained that Plato is in
earnest with all the Orphic details of this passage ?—and, if
not with all, with any? It is to be noted, too, that Socrates
ends by recommending his tale about ἀνάμνησις entirely on
practical grounds, as likely to make us more ready to take the
trouble of seeking after knowledge. Here we are in this
world, he says in effect, with mental faculties which perhaps
deceive us. How are we to save ourselves from scepticism
and accidie? Only by believing firmly that our mental
faculties do not deceive us. Science cannot establish in us
the belief that our mental faculties do not deceive us; for our
mental faculties are the conditions of science. The surest
way of getting to believe that our mental faculties do not
deceive us is, of course, to use them: but if the absence of
scientific proof of their trustworthiness should ever give us
anxiety, the persuasiveness of a Myth may comfort us; that
is, a Myth may put us in the mood of not arguing about our
mental faculties, but believing in them. Meno, in argu-
mentative mood, asks how it is possible to investigate a thing
about which one knows absolutely nothing—in this case,
Virtue, about which Socrates professes to know nothing
himself, and has shown that Meno knows nothing. One’s
investigation, Meno argues, having no object whatever before
it, might hit by accident on some truth—but how is one to
know that it is the truth one wants? To this Socrates
replies: I understand your meaning, Meno. But don’t you
see what a verbal sort of argument it is that you are intro-
ducing? You mean “that one can’t investigate either what
one knows or what one does not know; for what one knows
one knows, and investigation is unnecessary; and what one
does not know one does not know, and how can one investi-
gate one knows not what ?”
Meno. Exactly; and you think it is a good argument ?
Socrates. No, I don’t.
M. Why, pray ?
1 Meno, 81.
946 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
S. I will tell you. I have heard from men and women
who are wise concerning divine things—
What have you “heard ?
S. A Tale, true I believe, and great and glorkoill
Mt What was it? Who told you?
S. Those priests and priestesses whose continual study it
is to be able to give an account of the things which are their
business ; and also Pindar, and many other divine poets. And
their Tale is this— it is for you to consider whether you think
it a true Tale: they say, “That the Soul of Man is immortal,
and to-day she cometh to her End, which they call Death ;
and then afterwards is she born again, but perisheth never.
Wherefore it behoveth us to go through our lives observing
religion alway: for the Souls of them from whom Persephone
hath received the price of ancient Sin, she sendeth back to the
light of the Sun above in the ninth year. These be they who
become noble kings and men swift and strong and mighty in
wisdom, and are called Blessed of them that come after unto all
generations.”
Since the Soul, then, Socrates continues, is immortal, and
has often been incarnate, and has seen both the things here
and the things in Hades, and all things, there is nothing which
she has not learnt. No wonder, then, that she is able, of herself,
to recall to memory what she formerly knew about Virtue or
anything else; for, as Nature is all of one common stock and
kind, and the Soul has learnt all things, there is no reason why,
starting from her recollection of but one thing (this is what is
ealled “ learning”), a man should not, of himself, discover all
other things, if only he have good courage, and shirk not inquiry
“remembering.” So, we must not be led away by your verbal
argument. It would make us idle; for it is an argument that
slack people like. But my account of the matter stirs people
up to work and inquire. Believing it to be the true account,
I am willing, along with you, to inquire what Virtue is.’
The practical lesson to be drawn from the Myth contained
in this passage is indicated by Socrates a little further on :?—
There are things, he says, in the Doctrine, or Myth, of
Reminiscence on which it is hardly worth while to insist, if
1 Meno, 80 p-81 Ε. 2 Meno, 86, B, ©.
THE PHAEDRUS MYTH 347
they are challenged; but there is one thing in its teaching
which is worth maintaining against all comers—that, if we
think that we ought to investigate what we do not know, we
are better men, more courageous and less slothful, than if we
think that what we do not know is something which it is
neither possible to ascertain nor right to investigate.
Zeller’s reason for maintaining that the doctrine of
ἀνάμνησις, seb forth in this passage and in the Phaedrus
Myth, is to be taken literally seems to be that the doctrine
is propounded by Plato as the sole explanation of what he
certainly accepted as a fact—the presence of an @ priori
element in experience, and, moreover, is an explanation involvy-
ing the doctrine of Ideas which, it is urged, Plato wishes to
be taken literally.
I do not think that because introspection makes Plato
accept as a fact the presence of an a priori element in experi-
ence, it follows that even the only “explanation” which
occurs to him of the fact is regarded by him as “ scientific.”
The “explanation” consists in the assumption of Eternal
Ideas which are “recollected” from a prenatal experience on
the occasion of the presentation, in this life, of sensible objects
“resembling” them. I go the length of thinking that the
Eternal Ideas, as assumed in this “ explanation,” are, like their
domicile, the Plain of Truth, creations of mythology.’ It is
because Aristotle either could not or would not see this, that
his criticism of the doctrine of Ideas? is a coup mangué.
Milton’s poem De Idea Platonica quemadmodum Aristoteles
intellexit seems to me to express so happily the state of the
case—that the doctrine of Eternal Ideas set forth by Plato in
Myth is erroneously taken up by Aristotle as Dogma—that I
venture to quote it here in full :°—
1 This view of the Ideas as we have them in the Phaedrus Myth is, of course,
quite consistent with an orthodox view of their place in Logic. In Logic the
εἴδη are scientific points of view by means of which phenomena are brought into
natural groups and explained in their causal context. Answering to these
scientific points of view are objectively valid Laws of Nature. Couturat (de Plat.
Mythis, p. 81), after pointing to certain differences in the accounts given in the
Tim., Phaedo, Republ., and Sophistes, respectively, of the ἐδέαι, ends with the
remark that we might complain of “‘inconsistency ὁ were it not that the whole
doctrine of ἰδέαι is ‘‘ mythical.” This, I think, is going too far. It is interesting
to note that Dante (Conv. ii. 5) draws a close parallel between the Platonic ἐδέαι
and ‘‘Gods”: so faras the parallel goes, the former will belong to “ mythology”
equally with the latter.
2 Met. M. 3 Masson’s Poetical Works of John Milton, vol. iii. p. 76.
348
1 Prof. Masson (0.6. iii. 527) says: ‘‘ Jw is, of course, Plato; and here, it
seems to me, Milton intimates at the close that he does not believe that the
Aristotelian representation of Plato’s Idea, which he has been burlesquing in the
poem, is a true rendering of Plato’s real meaning.
really taught any such monstrosity, then, etc.
the poem have missed its humorous character, and supposed Milton himself to be
THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Dicite, sacrorum praesides nemorum deae,
Tuque O noveni perbeata numinis
Memoria mater, quaeque in immenso procul
Antro recumbis otiosa Aeternitas,
Monumenta servans, et ratas leges Jovis,
Coelique fastos atque ephemeridas Detim,
Quis ille primus cujus ex imagine
Natura solers finxit humanum genus,
Aeternus, incorruptus, aequaevus polo,
Unusque et universus exemplar Dei ?
Haud ille, Palladis gemellus innubae,
Interna proles insidet menti Jovis ;
Sed, quamlibet natura sit communior,
Tamen seorsus extat ad morem unius,
Et, mira! certo stringitur spatio loci:
Seu sempiternus ille siderum comes
Caeli pererrat ordines decemplicis,
Citimumve terris incolit Lunae globum ;
Sive, inter animas corpus adituras sedens,
Obliviosas torpet ad Lethes aquas ;
Sive in remota forte terrarum plaga
Incedit ingens hominis archetypus gigas,
Et diis tremendus erigit celsum caput,
Atlante major portitore siderum.
Non, cui profundum caecitas lumen dedit,
Dircaeus augur vidit hune alto sinu ;
Non hunc silenti nocte Pléiones nepos
Vatum sagaci praepes ostendit choro ;
Non hunce sacerdos novit Assyrius, licet
Longos vetusti commemoret atavos Nini,
Priscumque Belon, inclytumque Osiridem ;
Non ille trino gloriosus nomine
Ter magnus Hermes (ut sit arcani sciens)
Talem reliquit Isidis cultoribus.
At tu,! perenne ruris Academi decus,
(Haec monstra si tu primus induxti scholis)
Jam jam poetas, urbis exules tuae,
Revocabis, ipse fabulator maximus ;
Aut institutor ipse migrabis foras.
To put the matter briefly: I regard the whole doctrine of
ἀνάμνησις, and of idéac qua involved in that doctrine, as an
Aetiological Myth—plausible, comforting, and encouraging—
finding fault with Plato.”
If it were so—if Plato had
I rather think commentators on
THE PHAEDRUS MYTH 349
to explain the fact that Man finds himself in a World in
which he can get on. The Myth is a protest against the
Ignava Ratio of Meno and his like—the sophistry which
excuses inactivity by proving, to the satisfaction of the inac-
tive, that successful advance in knowledge and morality is
impossible.
IV
Phaedrus, 248 ΙΕ
The fact that the Philosopher and the Tyrant are respect-
ively first and last in a list of nine can be explained only by
reference to the importance attached by Plato to 9x9x9=
729, which, in Republ. 587 Ρ, Ὲ (see Adam’s notes), marks the
superiority of the Philosopher over the Tyrant in respect of
Happiness. The number 729 had a great vogue in later
times. Plutarch, in his de animae procreatione e Timaeo,
ch. 31, makes it the number of the Sun, which we know from
the de fac. in orbe lunae, ch. 28, stands for νοῦς : κατ᾽ αὐτὸν δὲ
τὸν ἥλιον θ΄ καὶ κ' καὶ ψ'΄, ὅστις ἅμα τε τετράγωνός τε Kal
κύβος ἐστί. It is also involved in the “mysterie of the
Septenary, or number seven,” which is of two kinds—+ ἐντὸς
δεκάδος ἑβδομάς, 1... the 7 which comes in the series 1, 2,
3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10; and ἡ ἐκτὸς δεκάδος ἑβδομάς, which
is the seventh term from unity in the series 1, 3, 9, 27, 81,
243,729. This is both a square (= incorporeal substance)
and a cube (=corporeal substance), i.e. 27 x 27 and 9x9
x 9 both= 729. This is worked out by Philo in a passage
of his Cosmopoeta Mosaica, quoted by Dr. Henry More in his
Defence of the Moral Cabbala, ch. 11. p. 164 (ed. 1662); and
More’s application is worth quoting: “Seven hundred and
twenty-nine is made either by squaring of twenty-seven, or
eubically multiplying of nine, and so is both cube and square,
Corporeal, and Incorporeal. Whereby is intimated that the
World shall not be reduced in the Seventh day to a mere
Spiritual consistency, to an incorporeal condition, but that
there shall be a cohabitation of the Spirit with Flesh in a
mystical or moral sense, and that God will pitch his Tent
amongst us. Then shall be settled everlasting Righteousness,
350 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
and rooted in the Earth, so long as mankind shall inhabit
upon the face thereof.”
Again, Dante makes 9 the number of Beatrice. She was
in her ninth year when he first saw her (Vita Nuova, 2); his
first greeting he received from her nine years afterwards at
the ninth hour of the day (V. ΔΝ, 3); and she departed this
life on the ninth day of the ninth month of the year,
according to the Syrian style (V. WV. 30):—* Questo numero,”
he concludes (V. WV. 30), “fu ella medesima; per similitudine
dico, e cid intendo cosi: Lo numero del tre é la radice del
nove, perocche senza numero altro, per sé medesimo moltipli-
cato, fa nove, siccome vedemo manifestamente che tre via tre
fa nove. Dunque se il tre ὁ fattore per sé medesimo del nove,
e lo fattore dei miracoli per sé medesimo é tre, cioé Padre,
Figliuolo 6 Spirito Santo, li quali sono tre ed uno, questa donna
fu accompagnata dal numero del nove a dare ad intendere, que
ella era un nove, cioé un miracolo, la cui radice é solamente la
mirabile Trinitade.” With this may be compared a passage in
Convivio, iv. 24,in which Dante, referring to Cicero, de Senectute
(§ 5), as authority, says that Plato died aged eighty-one (ef.
Toynbee, Dante Dict., art. “Platone,” at the end, for a quotation
from Seneca, Hp. 58, to the same effect); and adds: “e io
credo che, se Cristo non fosse stato crucifisso, e fosse vivuto lo
spazio che la sua vita potea secondo natura trapassare, egli
sarebbe all’ ottantuno anno di mortale corpo in eternale
trasmutato.”
V
The contrast between the celestial mise en scéne of the
History of the Soul represented in the Phaedrus Myth, and
the terrestrial scenery of the great Eschatological Myths in the
Phaedo, Gorgias, and Republic, is a point on which some re-
marks may be offered.
In the Phaedrus Myth we are mainly concerned with the Fall
and Ascension of human Souls through the Heavenly Spheres
intermediate between the Earth and the πεδίον ἀληθείας.
teference to the Sublunary Region which includes Tartarus,
the Plain of Lethe, and the Earthly Paradise (Islands of the
Blessed, True Surface of the Earth, τὰ περὶ γῆν = οὐρανός), is
THE PHAEDRUS MYTH 35]
slight and distant. In the Phaedrus Myth we have light
wings and a Paradiso; in the three other Myths mentioned,
plodding feet and an Jnferno and a Purgatorio.
This distinction answers to a real difference in the sources
on which Plato drew for his History of the Soul. On the one
hand, he was indebted to the Pythagorean Orphics, who put
κάθαρσις in the forefront of their eschatology. On the other
hand, he had at his disposal, for the selection of details, the
less refined mythology of the κατάβασις εἰς “Acdov, as taught
by the Priests denounced in the Republic.’
The eschatology of the Pythagorean Orphics may be
broadly characterised as celestial and astronomical. The Soul
falls from her native place in the Highest Heaven, through
the Heavenly Spheres, to her first incarnation on Earth. By
means of a series of sojourns in Hades, and re-incarnations on
Earth (the details of which are mostly taken from the myth-
ology of the κατάβασις εἰς “Acdov), she is purified from the
taint of the flesh. Then, at last, she returns to her native
place in the Highest Heaven, passing, in the upward flight of
her chariot, through the Heavenly Spheres, as through Stations
or Doors.
The earliest example which has come down to us of this
celestial eschatology is that which meets us in the passage
with which Parmenides begins his Poem. Parmenides goes
up in a chariot accompanied by the Daughters of the Sun;
he rides through the Gate of Justice where the paths of Day
and Night have their parting; and comes to the Region of
Light, where Wisdom receives him.”
In contrast to this celestial eschatology, the eschatology
of the Priests denounced in the Republic may be described
as terrestrial. All Souls go to a place on Earth, or under the
Earth, to be judged, and the good are sent to the right to
eternal feasting (μέθη αἰώνιος, Rep. 363 D), and the wicked
to the left, to le for ever in the Pit of Slime. Of the true
κάθαρσις effected by a secular process of penance and
philosophic aspiration these Priests have no conception. The
1 3630, D; 364B ff.
2 See Burnet’s Early Greek Philosophy, pp. 183 ff.; and Dieterich, Fine
Mithrasliturgie, p. 197. The passage does not express the views of Parmenides
himself ; but is borrowed from the Pythagorean Orphics, probably for the mere
purpose of decoration. The Soul-chariots of the Phaedrus Myth are derived from
the same source.
352 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
only κάθαρσις which comes within the range of their thought
is that effected, once for all in this life, by ritual observance.
The κάθαρσις thus effected in this life is all that is needed
to bring the Soul to the very “earthly” Paradise of their
eschatology.
Although Plato leaves us in the Gorgias with only the
Islands of the Blessed and the Pit of Tartarus of this
terrestrial eschatology, he makes it plain in the Phaedo
Myth, not to mention the Zimaeus and the Phaedrus Myth,
that the ultimate destination of the virtuous Soul is not any
Terrestrial Paradise of sensual delights (which might well be
that secured by mere ritual purification), but a Celestial
Paradise, to which the Pure Intelligence rises by its own
strenuous effort, recalling to memory more and more clearly
the Eternal Truth which it ardently loves.
It was through what may be called its astronomical side,
and not through that side which reflects the mythology of
the κατάβασις εἰς “Ardov, that the Platonic eschatology
influenced subsequent religious thought and practice. The
doctrine of κάθαρσις effected by personal effort in a Cosmos
governed by God, which, after all, is the great contribution
made by Plato to the religious thought and practice of
Europe, found its appropriate vehicle in the large astronomy
which meets us in the 7imaeus and Phaedrus—an astronomy
which was afterwards elaborated, with special reference to the
aerial and aethereal habitats of Daemons and disembodied
human Souls, by the Stoics no less than by the Platonists.
Dieterich, in his Hine Mithrasliturgie (1903), mentions the
Stoic Posidonius, Cicero’s teacher, as the writer who did most
to unite the Pythagorean and Platonic tradition with the
doctrines of the Stoa. As result of his accommodation of
Platonic eschatology to Stoic doctrine, reference! to a sub-
terranean Hades disappears, and the History of the Soul after
Death is that of its ἀνάβασις from Earth to Air, from Air to
Aether, and through the Spheres of the Planets to the Sphere
of the Fixed Stars. The substitution of ἀνάβασις for κατά-
βασις, even in the case of the Souls of the wicked, con-
nects itself closely with the “ physical science” of the Stoics.
In the Phaedrus Myth the Soul has wings and flies up; but
1 Hine Mithrasliturgie, pp. 79 and 202.
THE PHARDRUS MYTH 353
the Stoics give a “scientific” reason for its ascent,—the
“matter” of which it is made is so rare and light that it rises
of necessity when it is separated from the terrestrial body.
To Posidonius, and through him to Plato and the Pythagorean
Orphics, Dieterich! carries back the eschatology of Cicero's
Somnium Scipionis and T'usculanae Disputationes,? and of
Seneca’s Letter to Marcia *—an eschatology in which the Soul
is represented as ascending through Heavenly Stations; while
the astronomy of the pseudo-Aristotelian περὶ κόσμου, ----ἃ
work of the first century after Christ, translated in the
second century by Apuleius,—he contends, is essentially that
of Posidonius. The latest embodiment of the Type first
made known to us in the Poem of Parmenides and the
Phaedrus Myth is Dante’s Paradiso, the scheme of which
is “The Ascension of a Purified Soul through the Moving
Heavens into the Presence of God in the Unmoved Heaven.”
Let us try to follow the line, or lines, along which the
influence of the Phaedrus Myth (for the Poem of Parmenides
searcely counts beside the Phaedrus Myth) was transmitted
to the Paradiso.
It was transmitted to the Paradiso along two main lines,
The first passed through the Aristotelian Metaphysics and
de Coelo—the influence thus transmitted showing itself in the
definite astronomical framework of the Paradiso, and the
notion of l’ Amor che move il Sole ὁ I’ altre Stelle. The
second line (which I believe to be necessary, with the first,
for the full explanation of the scheme, and more especially
of the ἦθος, of the Paradiso) has two strands, one of which
consists of the Somnium Scipionis, and its antecedents, chiefly
Stoical; the other, of certain astronomical apocalypses, chiefly
Christian—these apocalypses being closely related to certain
sacramental rites, or mysteries, which embody the eschatology
of the Phaedrus Myth.
Let me enlarge a little on these two lines of influence;
and, first, try to indicate how the Myth of the ὑπερουράνιος
romos—the goal of all volition and _ intellection— passes
through Aristotle into the Christian mythology of Dante.
The νῶτον οὐρανοῦ of the Phaedrus Myth (247) is the
convex surface of the eighth Sphere—the Sphere of the
1 0.c. p. 201. ἈΠῸ 15. 19. 5 Ch. 25.
2A
354 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Fixed Stars, which includes, according to Plato’s astronomy,
all the other Spheres, and carries them round with it in its
revolution from east to west, while they have their own
slower motions within from west to east.’
The gods, sitting in their chariots, are carried round on
this outer Sphere, throughout its whole revolution, in full
sight of the Eternal Region beyond, while human Souls, at
least till they are perfectly purified, obtain only broken
glimpses of it. We must suppose that it is in order to get
a connected view of this Super-celestial Region that the
newly created Souls in the Zimaeus (40 E-42 E) are sent,
each in its star-chariot, on a journey round the Heavens. It
is the invincible desire of seeing the Super-celestial Region
which draws all Souls, divine and human, up to the νῶτον
οὐρανοῦ, and obliges them to go round with the revolution of
1 See Zimaeus, 36 B; Republic, 616 B ff.; and Boeckh, Commentatio altera de
Platonico Systemate Coelestium Globorum, et de vera indole Astronomiae Phitlo-
laicae (Heidelberg, 1810), p. 5. According to the system accepted by Plato as
scientifically true, the Earth occupies the centre, round which the Heavens
revolve; but the Earth does not revolve on its own axis; the εἱλλομένην of
Tim. 408 means ‘‘wrapped, or globed round,” not ‘‘revolving” as Arist. de
Coelo, ii. 293 b 30, falsely interprets. If Plato made the Earth revolve
on its axis, that would neutralise the effect of the revolution of the Sphere
of the Fixed Stars (Boeckh, o.c. p. 9). In the Phaedrus Myth, however,
Boeckh (p. 28) is of opinion that Plato deserts the system which he accepts as
scientifically true, and follows the Pythagoreans, who put ‘Eorla (Διὸς Φυλακή)
in the centre of the Universe (see Burnet’s Karly Greek Philosophy, § 125, pp.
319 ff.). The μένει yap Ἑστία ἐν θεῶν οἴκῳ μόνη of Phaedrus, 247 A, is in favour
of Boeckh’s opinion ; but, apart from this one clause, there is nothing in the Myth
to suggest that Plato does not think of the Earth as fixed in the midst of the
Heavens. If he thought of the Earth as one of the planets revolving round a
Pythagorean central fire, why does the Earth not appear with the other planets,
in this Myth, as one of the planet-gods in the train of Zeus? ‘‘The planet-
gods,” Plato in effect says, ‘‘after their journey come ‘home.’ Ἑστία, the
‘hearth,’ is the ‘home’ to which they come.” This is a quite natural sequence
of ideas; and I think it better to suppose that it passed through Plato’s mind,
than to have recourse to the view that he abandoned the doctrine of the
centrality of the Earth, without which, indeed, it would be very difficult to
visualise the Fall and Ascension of human Souls—the main ‘‘ incident” of the
Myth. The statement of Theophrastus recorded by Plutarch, that Plato in his
later years regretted that he had made the Earth the centre in the Timaeus, is
doubtless justly suspected by Zeller and other scholars: see Zeller’s Plato,
p. 379, n. 37, Eng. Transl.
I have spoken of the choir of Zeus as ‘* planet-gods”’ ; but, as there are seven
planets and twelve gods—or eleven in the absence of Hestia—the expression
is only approximately exact. Cf. Thompson’s Phaedrus, p. 159.
For later developments of the geocentric system accepted by Plato, see Arist.
Met. A, 1073 Ὁ 17 ff. (A is judged to be post-Aristotelian by Rose, de Arist. lib.
ord. et auct. p. 242), where the system of Eudoxus with 27 spheres, that of
Callippus with 34 spheres, and that of the writer himself with 56 spheres, are
described. Of. Zeller’s Arist. i. 499-503, Engl. Transl. These spheres were
added to explain the φαινόμενα.
ΤῊΝ PHABEDRUS MYTH 355
the o’pavos—moving in order to apprehend the whole extent
of that which is unmoved. Human thought here on Earth is
rational in so far as it reproduces, or “ imitates,” within the
microcosm of the circular brain, the orbit in which the
Heavenly Sphere moves in the presence of this Unmoved
(Timaeus, 47 B).
Aristotle, although he omits the mythology of Souls in
their chariots, retains the motive of the Phaedrus Myth, and,
indeed, much of its language,’ in his doctrine that the Outer
Sphere—the Primum Mobile—is itself moved by the attrac-
tion of something beyond which is unmoved; and this
ultimate unmoved source of the heavenly motion he identifies
with God, described as an immaterial, eternally active, Prin-
ciple, final object at once of knowledge and desire, Who
moves the Heavens as One Beloved moves a Lover—xuivet ὡς
ἐρώμενον" Now this is Myth. God the Best Beloved, the
Final Truth, takes, in Aristotle’s theory, the place of the πεδίον
ἀληθείας which the Souls, in Plato’s Myth, eagerly seek to
see. The language of the Aristotelian passage, too, is worthy
of the dignity of the Myth. With all its technicalities the
passage is a lofty hymn which has deeply influenced the
religious imagination of all after ages.
The ὑπερουράνιος τόπος, or πεδίον ἀληθείας, of the
Phaedrus Myth—the God of Met. A, Who, unmoved (ἀκίνητον)
object of volition (βουλητόν) and intellection (νοητόν), moves
the Heavens—appears in the Christian doctrine, which Dante
poetises, as the Quiet Heaven, the Empyrean, the unmoved
dwelling-place of God and all the blessed spirits. This, in
the mediaeval astronomy, is counted as the Tenth Heaven, for
between it and the Eighth Sphere of the Platonico-Aristotelian
system the Ninth Starless Sphere, the Crystalline Sphere,
had been interpolated as primum mobile. Let us turn again
to the passage in the Convivio (11. 4) in which Dante speaks
of the Tenth Heaven, and read it afresh® in the light of what
has been said about the πεδίον ἀληθείας and the Aristotelian
God :—
“There are nine Moving Heavens; and the order of
1 Phaedrus, 245, is the source of the thought and phraseology of Arist.
Met. A, 1072 a 23 ff.
* See Arist. Met. A, 1072 a 21-1072 Ὁ 30.
3 See p. 164 supra.
356 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
their position is as follows: The first that is reckoned is that
of the Moon; the second that in which Mercury is; the
third Venus; the fourth the Sun; the fifth Mars; the sixth
Jupiter; the seventh Saturn; the eighth is that of the Stars ;
the ninth is that which can only be perceived by the move-
ment above mentioned, which is called Crystalline, or dia-
phanous, or wholly transparent. But outside of these
Catholics suppose the Empyrean Heaven, which is as much
as to say the Heaven of Flame, or the Luminous; and they
suppose this to be immovable, since it has in itself, in respect
of every part, that which its matter requires. And this is
the reason why the primum mobile has most rapid movement :
because by reason of the fervent longing which every part of
it has to be joined to every part of that most divine Motion-
less Heaven, it revolves within that with so great desire
that its velocity is, as it were, incomprehensible. And this
Motionless and Peaceful Heaven is the place of that Supreme
Deity which alone fully beholds itself. This is the place of
the blessed spirits, according as Holy Church, which cannot
lie, will have it; and this Aristotle, to whoso understands
him aright, seems to mean in the first book de Coelo.”
In this doctrine of the Quiet Heaven, justly said to have
the authority of Aristotle in its favour, we have the motive
of the whole Myth of the Paradiso. The ascent of Dante,
through the Nine Moving Spheres, to the Unmoved Heaven,
his will and intellect moved at every stage by “the Love
which moves the sun and other stars,’ is a Myth—how
valuable in its regulative influence the world knows, and
may yet know better—a Myth setting forth like the Myth
of the Soul-Chariots, man’s personal effort to take his place
in the Cosmos by “imitating” its eternal laws in his own
thought and will, not content to look always down, like the
brutes, at the things beneath him on the ground, but, first,
lifting up his eyes to the Visible Gods—the stars in their
orderly courses—and then thinking out the law of their order ;
thus, as we read in the Zimaeus (47 A), realising the final
cause of eyes, which is to awaken thought. The ultimate
identity of Thought and Will as both drawn forth by the
attraction of one Object—the Object, Plato would say, of
“ Philosophy,” of “ Theology” Aristotle and Dante would say
ΤῊΝ ΠΑΝ δ MYTH 357
—is thus contained in the Myth of the Paradiso, as in the
Phaedrus Myth. The associations of Dante’s Myth lie
nearer to our modern life than those of Plato’s Myth, and
we may be helped to appreciate the latter through the
former. In both we have models of what a refined Myth
ought to be. It ought to be based on old tradition, and yet
must not fetter, but rather give new freedom to, present-day
thinking. It is impossible to define, or even describe, the aid
which a refined mythology, such as that of Dante, brings to
a man’s life, for the aid which it brings is inseparable from
the charm under which his personal study of it has at last
brought him: χρὴ τὰ τοιαῦτα ὥσπερ ἐπάδειν ἑαυτῷ."
The πεδίον ἀληθείας of the Phaedrus Myth, which thus
answers to Aristotle’s κινοῦν οὐ κινούμενον, or God, and to
Dante’s Unmoved Heaven, or Empyrean, the dwelling-place
of God, holds an important position in the Neo-Platonic
philosophy. The passage in which Plotinus describes it is
one of the most highly-strung pieces of philosophical writing
in the whole of his Hnneads, and need not be entered upon
here;* but Plutarch’s description of it may be given. It
occurs in his de defectu oraculorum,® where he records the
doctrine of a “ Barbarian Stranger,’ who, rejecting alike the
view of Plato, that there is only one Cosmus, and the view of
others, that the number of Cosmi is infinite, and that of
others still, that there are five of them, maintains that there
are exactly 183 * of them, arranged in the figure of a triangle,
the sides of which they form, touching one another—60 to
each side, and one in each angle. These Cosmi move round
along the sides of the triangle in procession, ἀτρέμα περιϊόντας
ὥσπερ ἐν χορείᾳ ; and the area of the triangle which these
moving Cosmi make is called the Plain of Truth, πεδίον
ἀληθείας. In this Plain abide unmoved the rationes (λόγοι),
formae (εἴδη), exemplaria (παραδείγματα), of all things which
ever have, and ever shall, come into being; and round about
1 Phaedo, 114 Ὁ.
2 Enn. vi. 7. 13. Two sentences from it will show its character sufficiently :—
ἐν αὑτῷ ὁ ἀληθινὸς νοῦς πέφυκε πλανᾶσθαι: πέφυκε δ᾽ ἐν οὐσίαις πλανᾶσθαι
συνθεουσῶν τῶν οὐσιῶν ταῖς αὐτοῦ πλάναις. πανταχοῦ δ᾽ αὐτός ἐστι μένουσαν
οὖν ἔχει τὴν πλάνην. ἡ δὲ πλάνη αὐτᾷ ἐν τῷ τῆς ἀληθείας πεδίῳ, οὗ οὐκ
ἐκβαίνει.
3 Ch. 22.
“ Half of the number of the days in the year, as a friend suggests to me.
Cf. the number of the βασιλεύς (729), Rep. 587 Ἑ.
358 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
these Eternal Verities is spread Eternity (ai@v), which flows
out as Time (ypovos) upon the moving Cosmi. Human Souls,
if they live virtuously, have sight of these Eternal Verities
once in ten thousand years. The holiest mysteries of this
world are but a dream of that Perfect Revelation.
“This Myth of the Barbarian Stranger,’ says the narrator
of it in Plutarch’s Dialogue, “I listened to as though I were
being initiated. The Stranger offered no demonstration or
other evidence of the truth of it.”
The Myth! is a good instance of the way in which the
later Platonists used Plato’s suggestions—and, it must be
added, Aristotle’s; for in the de Coelo,? αἰών, outside the
οὐρανός, where there is neither τόπος, nor κενόν, nor χρόνος,
nor μεταβολή, is identified with God, whose life is described
as ἀπαθής, ἀρίστη, αὐταρκεστάτη. Platonists had, indeed,
almost as rich a mine to work in Aristotle as they had in
Plato himself.’
Before I leave the subject of the influence of the Phaedrus
Myth as transmitted to Dante through the de Coelo and
Metaphysics—it shows itself mainly in the definite astro-
nomical framework of the Paradiso, and the notion of
Τ᾽ Amor che move il Sole 6 I’ altre stelle—
I may notice another notion very prominent in the Paradiso
which seems to have taken form in the course of an evolution
starting from the Phaedrus Myth, or the eschatology of which
that Myth is the most eminent product. I refer to the
notion that the various temperaments, or characters, are
produced by the action of the stars, especially of the planets.
This notion is deeply embedded in the structure of the
Paradiso. The spirits whom Dante sees in the three lower
spheres are seen by him there in human form because in their
earthly lives they yielded to influences exerted by the Moon,
by Mercury, and by Venus respectively—because they broke
1 Referred to by Dr. Bigg, Neoplatonism, p. 121.
2 i, 9, 279 a 16.
3 The Axiochus (371 B) is quite un-Platonic, and indeed singular, in its view
of the πεδίον ἀληθείας. The place where Minos and the other Judges of the
Dead sit is called the πεδίον ἀληθείας, and is on the other side of Acheron and
Cocytus, i.e. down in Tartarus ; whereas the λειμών of the Judgment-Seat in the
Phaedo is on this side of these rivers, and in the Republic is certainly outside
of Tartarus.
THE PHAFDRUS MYTH 359
vows, were ambitious, were guilty of unchastity. In the
four upper planetary spheres likewise Dante sees spirits
whose characters on Karth were such as their various planets
determined ; these, however, being beyond the shadow of the
Karth and its influence, are no longer in human form, but
enclosed in an envelope of light—they are ardenti sole'—
spherical, like the stars; for the sphere is the perfect form
which the pure aethereal vehicle naturally takes. Now, if we
turn from the Paradiso to the Phaedrus Myth we find that
there Souls are χορευταί of, follow in the train of, various
Planet-Gods, Zeus, Ares, and others, in their ascent to the
Kmpyrean, or πεδίον ἀληθείας, and show corresponding tem-
peraments of character when they are afterwards born in the
flesh.
This mythological explanation of the varieties of tem-
perament may be compared with that offered by Macrobius
in his Commentary on Cicero’s Somniwm Scipionis, which 1
cannot do better than give in Professor Dill’s words : *—
The Commentary on the Dream of Scipio enables one to
understand how devout minds could even to the last remain
attached to paganism. It presupposes rather than expounds the
theology of Neoplatonism. Its chief motive is rather moral or
devotional than speculative. The One, supreme, unapproachable,
ineffable, residing in the highest heaven, is assumed as the source
of mind and life, penetrating all things, from the star in the
highest ether to the lowest form of animal existence. The
Universe is God’s temple, filled with His presence. The unseen,
inconceivable Author created from His essence pure mind, in the
likeness of Himself. In contact with matter mind degenerates
and becomes Soul. In the scale of being the moon marks the
limit between the eternal and the perishable, and all below the
moon is mortal and evanescent except the higher principle in
man. Passing from the divine world through the gate of Cancer
(cf. Plotin. Ennead, iv. 3. 15), mind descends gradually, in a fall
from its original blessedness, through the seven spheres, and, in
its passage, the divine and universal element assumes the various
faculties which make up the composite nature of man. In Saturn
it acquires the reasoning power, in Jupiter the practical and
moral, in Mars the spirited, in Venus the sensual element. But
in the process of descending into the body, the divine part suffers
a sort of intoxication and oblivion of the world from which it
1 Par. x. 76.
2 Roman Society in the Last Century of the Western Empire, pp. 90, 91.
360 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
comes, in some cases deeper than in others. Thus the diffusion
of Soul among bodily forms is a kind of death; and the body is
only a prison, or rather a tomb, which cannot be quitted save by
a second death, the death to sin and earthly passion.
Here, in the Commentary of Macrobius, two things kept
separate in the Phaedrus Myth—the Fall of Souls to the Earth
διὰ τὸ πτερορρυεῖν, and their membership of the retinue of
particular gods—are combined. It is in its Fall that a Soul
comes into touch with the gods; and derives, it would seem,
a complex temperament from touch with them all in suc-
cession.’
With regard to the cause of the Fall of Souls—the Neo-
Platonic mythology, while retaining the πτερορρυεῖν explana-
tion given in the Phaedrus, dwells more particularly on the
ideas of illusion and intoxication. Souls remain at peace
above till, like Narcissus, they see themselves reflected in the
mirror of Dionysus:* this is the flowing stream of sense and
generation, into which they plunge, mistaking the image for
reality. With the idea of illusion thus illustrated, the idea of
intoxication connects itself naturally. The stream of sense, the
mirror of Dionysus, is the bowl of Dionysus. Plunging into
it the Soul drinks forgetfulness of Eternal Truth, and the
world into which it is born thereafter is the σπήλαιον λήθης.
There are Souls which have not drunk so deeply as others of
this cup. There are the “dry souls” of Heraclitus.’ They
still retain some recollection of the disembodied state, and in
this earthly life hearken to the good δαίμων who comes with
them in their κάθοδος. The comparison of the body to a
1 Macrobius, Somn, i. 12, 68. See Lobeck, Aglaoph. pp. 932 ff., where other
writers are quoted for this view of the formation of human temperament. The
seven planets likewise connect themselves with the seven days of the week, and
the seven metals (ἑκάστῳ τῶν ἀστέρων ὕλη τις ἀνάγεται, ἡλίῳ μὲν ὁ χρυσός,
σελήνῃ δὲ ἄργυρος, “Ape σίδηρος, Kpdvw μόλιβδος, Act ἤλεκτρος, Ἑρμῇ κασσίτερος,
᾿Αφροδίτῃ χαλκός, Schol. on Pindar, 7ϑέδηι. v. 2); consequently the Mithraic
stair, κλῖμαξ ἑπτάπυλος, represented the seven planetary head through which
the Soul passes, by seven metals: the first step, that of Saturn, was of lead ;
the second, that of Venus, of tin; the third, that of Jupiter, of brass; the
fourth, that of Mercury, of iron, and so on, the days of the week being taken in
backward order: see Lobeck, Ag/aoph. p. 934. Further, there are seven colours,
seven strings, seven vowels, seven ages of a man’s life, as well as seven planets,
seven days, and seven metals (cf. Dieterich, Mithrasliturgie, pp. 186 ff.) ; also
seven seals, some of them associated with differently coloured horses, and seven
angels, in Rev, v.-viii.
? Plotin. Ennead, iv. 8, 12, vol. i. p. 247, ed. Kirchhoff.
3 Bywater, Heracliti Rel. p. 30.
ΤῊΝ ΠΑ MYTH 361
Heraclitean river, which occurs in 7'imaeus (43 A), doubtless
contributed to this Neo-Platonic mythology of the Fall.
The second line of influence connecting the Paradiso with
the Phaedrus Myth has, as I said, two strands, the first of
which consists of the Somniwm Scipionis and its antecedents,
chiefly Stoical. The links between the Phaedrus Myth and
Somnium Scipionis (which Dante undoubtedly knew)! are in-
dicated by Dieterich in passages referred to above,’ and need
not be specified here; but the second strand, consisting of the
astronomical apocalypses, has scarcely received the attention
which it deserves, and I venture to say something about it.
It is remarkable how little Dante is indebted in the
Paradiso to the Revelation of St. John. The seven references
in the Paradiso to that Apocalypse noted by Dr. Moore (Studies
in Dante, First Series, Index to Quotations, 1) concern details
only. The Revelation of St. John has indeed nothing service-
able for Dante’s purpose except details, for its scheme is quite
different from that of the Paradiso. It is very doubtful if the
writer knows anything of the astronomy of the eight Moving
Heavens and the Unmoved Heaven ; at any rate, if he does, he
makes no use of it; his scheme is not that of the Ascension of
a Soul through Heaven after Heaven. The scene is always
changing from Heaven to Earth, and to Hell; and the New
Jerusalem, in the description of which the Vision culminates,
descends out of the New Heaven, and is established upon the
New Earth. It is to apocalypses of an entirely different type
that the Paradiso is related—to apocalypses in which the
whole mise en scene of the eschatological drama is astronomical,
and the preoccupation of the writers is not, as that of the
writer of the Revelation of St. John largely is, with the Reign
of the Messiah on Earth over a chosen people, but with the
κάθαρσις of the disembodied Soul of the individual. These
“astronomical apocalypses,’ as we may call them—some of
them of Jewish authorship (like the Book of the Secrets of
Enoch, the “ Slavonic Enoch,”* which was written, before the
1 See Tozer (An English Commentary on Dante's ‘‘ Divina Commedia’) on Par.
xxii. 133 ff. ; and cf. Annual Report of the Dante Society (Cambridge, Mass. ), 1901 ;
Index of Authors quoted by Benvenuto da Imola, by Paget Toynbee, art.
‘* Macrobius.”’
2 Supra, pp. 352, 358.
5 Translated from the Slavonic by W. R. Morfill, and edited with Introduc-
tion, notes, and indices, by R. H. Charles, 1896.
302 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
end of the second century B.c., at Alexandria, in the main in
Greek, although portions of it reproduce a Hebrew original),
the majority of them of Christian authorship—owe their astro-
nomy mainly to Greek sources. It is true, of course, that the
conception of Seven Heavens answering to the Seven Planets
was familiar in the East before the Hellenistic period ;? but
the remarkable prominence which the conception suddenly
assumed in that period can only, I submit, be ascribed to
direct Greek influence? The scheme of these apocalypses
is always that of a Soul separated by ecstasy from its body,
and, with some angel or daemon as guide or μυσταγωγός,
rising from the Earth, through air to aether, and then from
planetary sphere to planetary sphere, up to the Presence of
God in, or beyond, the Seventh Heaven. Thus in the
Ascension of Isaiah, Isaiah is conducted, through the seven
planetary spheres, to the Presence of God the Father, and
hears Him commissioning His Son to descend to the Earth.
The descent of Christ through the spheres is then described ;
and after an account of His life on Earth, and death, and
resurrection, the Apocalypse closes with His Ascension through
the Heavenly Spheres to the right hand of God.
The persistence of this type—the “astronomical apoca-
lypse ”—is as remarkable as its wide distribution. Appearing
first among the Jews in the second century B.c., it is adopted
by the Christians—Greek, Latin, Slavonic, and Ethiopian, and
at last by Islam; for the Vision of Mahomet is one of the
best examples of it.
The Vision of Mahomet is the story of the Prophet's
miraculous journey from Mecca to “the further temple” at
Jerusalem, and his ascent thence,* through the Circles of
Heaven, into the immediate Presence of God, far beyond where
even Gabriel could ascend. I give the story (only briefly
referred to in the Quran itself, ch. xvii. 1, but told in all the
1 See Prof. Charles’s Introduction to The Book of the Secrets of Enoch, pp.
xxi. ff.
3 Dieterich (Zine Mithrasliturgie, p. 192) remarks that the conception of the
ascension of the Soul through Heavenly Stations does not appear in Jewish
literature till the Hellenistic period—in the Apocalypse of Enoch.
8 Written in Greek, according to Prof. Charles (see his Ascension of Isaiah,
1900, and his articles on Apocalyptic literature in the ποῖ, Brit. and Encl.
Bib.), between a.p. 50 and 80, translated into Latin, Ethiopic, and Slavonic,
and extant now in its entirety only in the Ethiopic version.
* It is from the spot antipodal to Jerusalem that Dante ascends.
THE 5. MYTH 363
earliest Lives of the Prophet) in the words of Mr. P. de Lacy
Johnstone (Muhammad and his Power, 1901, pp. 84 ff) -——
At the portal of the first heaven the angel knocked, and a
voice from within inquired who sought admittance. Gabrie!
answered, “It is 1, Gabriel.” But again the voice asked, “ Is there
any with thee?” and he said, “Muhammad.” Again came the
question, “ Hath he been called (to the office of prophet)?” and he
answered, “ Yes.” Then was the gate opened, and they entered ;
and Adam greeted Muhammad with the words, “ Welcome, pious
son and pious Prophet!” Then Muhammad beheld, and saw two
doors, the one on Adam’s right hand, and the other on his left.
As oft as he looked towards the first he laughed with delight, and
there issued therefrom a sweet savour; but as often as he turned
to the other he wept, and from it came evil odours; and the
Prophet marvelled, and asked of Gabriel what this should mean ;
and it was told him that the one door led to Paradise, and the
other to Hell, and that the Father of Mankind rejoiced over those
who were saved, and wept over those of his children who were lost.
Then they soared upward to the second Heaven, to which they
entered after the same questions and answers as at the first; and
there were two young men, John the Baptist and Jesus, and they
greeted Muhammad, ‘“‘ Welcome, pious brother and pious Prophet!”
Thence they passed to the third Heaven, to receive the same wel-
come from Joseph, “ whose beauty excelled that of all other crea-
tures as far as the light of the full moon surpasses that of the stars ” ;
then to the fourth, where Enoch greeted them ; and the fifth, where
Aaron welcomed them with the same words. In the sixth Heaven
Moses welcomed him as his brother and a Prophet; but he wept
as he soared above him—not for envy of Muhammad’s glory sur-
passing his own, but to think that so few of his own nation were
appointed to Paradise. From the Heaven of Moses the Archangel
led Muhammad up to the seventh, where he showed him Abraham
“his Father,’ who bade him ‘ Welcome, pious son and pious
Prophet!” In this seventh Heaven the Prophet beheld the
wondrous Tree, the abode of Gabriel, round which fly countless
myriads of angels ; from its foot spring the two rivers of Paradise,
and the two great rivers of Earth—Euphrates and the Nile; and
“the light of God overspreads the whole Tree.” There, too, was
the heavenly Kaaba, the original of the Meccan, and round it went,
in adoring circuit, radiant armies of angels ; so vast indeed is their
number that the same worshipping host never returns after once
making the mystic round. Beyond the seventh Heaven Gabriel
could only go with the Prophet, and that by special permission, as
far as the first of the seventy veils of dazzling light (each 500
years’ journey from the next) that shut in the Throne of God. As
304 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
the Prophet passed each successive stage, the gracious Voice bade
him “come nearer!” till at last he entered the immediate presence
of God. There he was endowed with perfect wisdom and know-
ledge, cheered with the promise that all who received his message
should be taken into Paradise, and commanded to lay on his faith-
ful followers the duty of praying fifty times in the day. The
Prophet returned from God’s Presence Chamber to the lower
heavens, and told Moses of the duty laid upon him. But by the
old Lawgiver’s advice he time after time ventured back to plead
with his Lord till the burden of the daily prayers was reduced to
five—the perpetual ordinance of Islam. Then with lightning
speed the Prophet was returned to his chamber at Mecca, and, for
all the wondrous things he had seen, yet was the bed warm when
he lay down again.
There can be no doubt, of course, that the Vision of Mahomet
was deliberately modelled on the Astronomical Apocalypse of
which the Ascension of Isaiah may be taken as an example.
Can there be any doubt that the same Type was before Dante’s
mind when he wrote the Paradiso? It would be unreasonable
to suppose that a Poem, which in ἦθος as well as in astro-
nomical scheme so closely conforms to a Type of which the
examples were so widely distributed, was written in ignorance
of that Type. The Paradiso, as it stands, cannot be accounted
for by the supposition that the Somnium Scipionis first
suggested to the Christian Poet an astronomical scheme which
he elaborated on lines laid down for him by Aristotle and
Alfraganus, in whose works he happened to be learned and
greatly interested. It was not, I take it, because he knew
the Somnium Scipionis and was interested in the traditional
astronomy that he adopted the astronomical scheme, but
because he found that scheme in the Christian Apocalypse
already consecrated to the subject with which his Poem is
concerned (and the Somniwm Scipionis is not)—the κάθαρσις
of a Soul.?
Taking, then, the Astronomical Apocalypse of which the
1 The Ascension of Isaiah, one of the most elaborately astronomical of the
apocalypses, existed in a Latin version which Dante may well have known. It
was printed at Venice in 1522, and contains—6-11—the ‘‘ascension”’ proper.
See also Mr. M. R. James (7he Revelation of Peter, p. 40, and Texts and Studies,
ii. 2, pp. 23 ff.) for the influence of the Apocalypse of Paul (a fourth or early fifth
century work, which exhibits, with some confusion, the astronomical scheme
which is so exactly followed in the Ascension of Isaiah) upon mediaeval visions
and the Divina Commedia.
ΤῊΝ PHAEDRUS MYTH 365
Secrets of Enoch, the Ascension of Isaiah, and the Vision of
Mahomet are examples, as the Type on which Dante deliber-
ately modelled the Paradiso, with the aid of the de Coelo,
and Metaphysics, and Hlementa of Alfraganus, and Somniwm
Scipionis (itself a divergent example of the same 'T'ype), let
me try to indicate the connection of this Type with the
eschatology of the Phaedrus Myth.
The connection is to be found, I think, in the use made
by sacramental ritual of the celestial mise en scéne adopted in
the Phaedrus Myth for the representation of the Soul’s History
—the sacramental ritual itself being the germ out of which
the literary product—the Apocalypse—-grew. Fortunately
Dieterich’s recent work, Line Mithrasliturgie (1903), enables
us to form a clearer idea of the sacramental ritual referred to
than was possible before.
The “ Liturgy”! which Dieterich edits and comments on
(whether a Mithras liturgy, as he holds, or belonging to some
other ritual, as Cumont holds”) is the Order to be observed in
a Sacramental Drama which conducts the μύστης through
stages or stations of ritual performance representing the
grades of the ascent of the disembodied Soul, through the
Heavenly Spheres, up to the Presence of the Highest God
beyond the Pole. What happens ritually here to the μύστης
will be accomplished actually for his Soul after death. The
ecstasy which the solemn sacrament procures and regulates
through ascending grades of feeling is a preparation for, and a
guarantee of, the actual ascension of the disembodied Soul.
The Liturgy begins with a Prayer which the μύστης, still
1 The Paris Papyrus 574, Supplément grec de la Bibliotheque Nationale, from
the text of which Dieterich restores this Liturgy, was, according to him, written
at the beginning of the fourth century after Christ (see 0.c. p. 43), not, however,
in the interest of worship, but as a book of magic. A Greek Mithras liturgy
composed in Egypt in the second century (see 0.6. pp. 45, 46) was transcribed
in the fourth century, and ἄσημα ὀνόματα, ‘‘nonsense words,” interspersed
through its text; and the farrago thus produced was to be recited as a spell, or
series of spells.
On the origin, nature, and remarkable spread of Mithras-worship the reader
may consult Cumont’s Mystéres de Mithra (1902), with map.
2 See especially M. Cumont’s elaborate criticism of Dieterich’s Mithrasliturgie,
in the Revue de ὦ Instruction Publique en Belgique. The “‘ Liturgy,” according
to M. Cumont, is a ‘‘magic-book” after all, reproducing the thoughts and even
the style of the Hermetic treatises ; but the writer, to enhance the value of his
work, instead of following the ordinary method and publishing it as a revelation
of Isis to Horus or of Hermes to Tat, presents it as a communication received
by himself from the great foreign god Mithras through the intermediation of an
archangel.
366 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
regarded as in the Sublunary Region, must recite. The
Prayer recited, he rises, using set forms of words (some of
them perhaps ἄσημα ὀνόματα) at each stage, from the element
of Earth to that of Water; then to Fire (sublunary, not
celestial), and then to Air. Then, next, he stands before
Doors’ of Fire which admit to the aethereal world of the
Gods—the Spheres of the Planets. Standing before these
Doors, the μύστης says, “1 too am a star which goeth
along with you, rising with his beams out of the depth:
oxyoxerthouth ”—éya εἰμι σύμπλανος ὑμῖν ἀστὴρ Kal ἐκ τοῦ
βάθους ἀναλάμπων οξυοξερθουθ At these words the Door-
keeper, the Fire-God, opens the Doors, and the μύστης enters
the Region of the Planets, where the Sun appears and goes
before him to the Pole. Arrived there, he is in the Sphere of
the Fixed Stars—represented by the seven τύχαι and the
seven πολοκράτορες, probably the Seven Stars of the Little
Bear and the Great Bear round the Pole. Beyond the Pole
and Sphere of the Fixed Stars is the throne of the Highest
God, who guides the Great Bear, ἄρκτος, which, in turn,
moves the Sphere of the Fixed Stars in a direction opposite
to that in which the Planets move. Into the presence of this
Highest God the μύστης at last comes; and the Liturgy ends
with his words of adoration—xupve, χαῖρε, δέσποτα ὕδατος,
χαῖρε, κατάρχα γῆς, χαῖρε, δυνάστα πνεύματος. κύριε, πάλιν
γενόμενος ἀπογίγνομαι---ἰ die, I am born again— adfepevos
καὶ αὐξηθεὶς τελευτῶ, ἀπὸ γενέσεως ζῳογόνου γενόμενος εἰς
ἀπογενεσίαν ἀναλυθεὶς πορεύομαι, ὡς σὺ ἔκτισας, ὡς σὺ
ἐνομοθέτησας καὶ ἐποίησας μυστήριον.ὃ
Here, then, in the “ Mithras liturgy” we have the order
of a sacrament carried out on lines laid down in the Vision
of Parmenides and the Phaedrus Myth,—the astronomical
eschatology of these pieces is embodied in a ritual—the actual
ascension of the disembodied Soul is prepared for, and indeed
guaranteed, in this life, by means of a dramatic representation
of it, in which the μύστης is the actor. Associated thus with
a practical end of the highest importance—the salvation of
the piorns—the astronomical scheme would be likely to hold
the field against all rivals; and this is what it actually did.
1 There are Doors also through which Parmenides passes in his ascension,
2 Dieterich, o.c. p. 8. 8 Dieterich, ac, p. 14.
THE PHAEDRUS MYTH 307
The notion of ἀνάβασις so completely extruded that of
κατάβασις, that we find even the Place of Torment localised
somewhere in the air—as by Plutarch, in his de facie in orbe
lunae* and his Aridaeus-Thespesius Myth;* in the latter the
region just under the moon is designated as the furthest point
reached by Orpheus when he went to seek Eurydice—the
traditional 'Opdéws κατάβασις is actually transformed into an
᾿Ορφέως ἀνάβασις.
I cannot but think that the extraordinary popularity
obtained by the Astronomical Apocalypse was due to the fact
that behind it sacramental ritual originally stood. It is
certainly remarkable that the Hellenistic and early Christian
period, which produced the Astronomical Apocalypse, was also
the age of innumerable Sacramental Cults. We can hardly
have here a mere coincidence. The Apocalypse, I take it, was
valued, at first, as setting forth, in interesting narrative, the
ascension which the ritual symbolised and guaranteed:
indeed, it was probably valued for something more than its
interesting narrative—for some sacramental value which it
derived from the parent ritual. We seem to have this
mysterious “something more” even in Dante’s conception of
his own Apocalypse. His Vision of Paradise is to him a
saving sacrament of which he has partaken :—
O Donna, in cui la mia speranza vige,
E che soffristi per la mia salute,
In Inferno lasciar le tue vestige ;
Di tante cose, quante io ho vedute,
Dal tuo podere e dalla tua bontate
τς Riconosco la grazia e la virtute.
Tu m’ hai di servo tratto a libertate
Per tutte quelle vie, per tutt’ i modi,
Che di cid fare avei la potestate.
La tua magnificenza in me custodi,
Si che l anima mia, che fatt’ hai sana,
Piacente a te dal corpo si disnodi.%
In his note on this passage Mr. Tozer* says: “ Dante’s
1 Chapter 28.
2 De sera numinis vindicta, chapter 22. In his Introduction to The Book of
the Secrets of Enoch (pp. xxxiv. ff.), Prof. Charles remarks that ‘‘the presence of
evil in heaven caused no offence in early Semitic thought.” In the northern
region of the Third Heaven Enoch sees the place of the damned, and Mahomet
sees it in the First Heaven.
$ Par. xxxi. 79 ff.
4 English Commentary on Dante's ‘‘ Divina Commedia,” pp. 615, 616.
368 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
conversion and ultimate salvation were the primary object of
his journey through the three realms of the spiritual world.”
The close connection between sacramental ritual or initia-
tion and apocalypse is very clearly brought out in the Myth
with which Plutarch ends his de sera numinis vindicta—the
Vision of Aridaeus-Thespesius just now alluded to. The hero
of the Myth is a wicked man called Aridaeus, who, as the
result of an accident to his head, lies unconscious for three
days, during which time his Soul (the rational part of it, but
not the irrational) visits the world of spirits in the air, where
he receives a new name, Thespesius. With this new name he
returns to this world, a new man, regenerate, and lives ever
after in the practice of virtue and religion. This Myth
is one of a well-marked class of eschatological visions, or
apocalypses, which render, in literary form, the ritual observed
at initiation—initiation being viewed as a Death, and a New
Birth, warranting the imposition of a New Name. Like the
initiatory ritual which it renders, this type of apocalyptic
vision involves what may be figured as the Death of the
pvotns—by ecstasy he passes into a state from which he
returns to his ordinary life a new man.
It is as a new man—as one filled with a joy which is not
of this world—that Dante returns from the apocalyptic vision,
or initiation, of the Paradiso—
Credo ch’ io vidi, perché pit di largo,
Dicendo questo, mi sento ch’ io σοάο.
The Paradiso is the last of the descendants of the
Phaedrus Myth; and reveals its parentage in nothing so
clearly as in its character of being, for its author, and even
for ourselves, a μυστήριον----ἃ solemn ritual at which one may
assist, not merely an admirable piece of literary workmanship.
Plutarch’s Aridaeus-Thespesius Myth? seems to me to be
so important for the understanding of what I have called the
celestial and astronomical mise en scéne given to eschatology
by Plato in the Phaedrus Myth, and, after him, by philosophers
of different schools, by religious societies, more especially in
the order of their sacramental ritual, by the apocalyptic writers,
Jewish, Christian, and Mohammedan, and, lastly, by Dante in
1 Par, xxxiii. 92, 93. 2 De sera numinis vindicta, ch. 22.
THE ΠΑΡΗ͂Ν MYTH 569
his Paradiso, that I shall give the reader the opportunity of
perusing the passage in Philemon Holland’s version : ἢ -
There was one Thespesius of the city of Soli in Cilicia, who
having led his youthful days very loosely, within a small time
had wasted and consumed all his goods, whereby he was fallen
for a certain space to extreme want and necessity, which brought
him also to a lewd life, insomuch as he proved a very bad man ;
and repenting his former follies and dispense, began to make
shifts, and seek all means to recover his state again . . . he for-
bare no lewd, indirect, and shameful practices, so they turned to
his gain and profit, and within a little while he gat together not
great store of goods, but procured to himself a bad name of
wicked dealing, much shame, and infamy. But the thing that
made him famous, and so much spoken of, was the answer de-
livered unto him from the Oracle of Amphilochus, for thither had
he sent, as it should seem, to know whether he should live the
rest of his life better than he had done before. Now the oracle
returned this answer: That it would be better with him after he
was dead ; which in some sort happened unto him not long after :
For being fallen from an high place with his head forward, with-
out any limb broken, or wound made; only with the fall the
breath went out of his body, and there he lay for dead ; and three
days after, preparation being made for his funerals, carried forth
he was to be buried; but behold all on a sudden he revived, and
quickly came to himself again ; whereupon there ensued such a
change and alteration in his life, that it was wonderful ; for by the
report and testimony of all the people of Cilicia, they never knew
man of a better conscience in all his affairs and dealings, whiles he
did negotiate and dwell among them; none more devout and re-
ligious to God-ward, none more fast and sure to his friends, none
bitterer to his enemies ; insomuch as they who were most inward
with him, and had kept his company familiarly a long time,
were very desirous and earnest with him, to know the cause of
so strange and sudden alteration. . . . Thus he reported unto
them and said : That when the spirit was out of his body, he fared
at the first (as he thought himself) like unto a pilot, flung out of
his ship, and plunged into the bottom of the sea ; so wonderfully
was he astonished at this change; but afterwards, when as by
little and little he was raised up again and recovered, so that he
was ware that he drew his breath fully, and at liberty, he looked
round about him, for his soul seemed as if it had been one eye
fully open; but he beheld nothing that he was wont to view, only
1 The Philosophie, commoniie called The Morals, written by the learned
Philosopher Plutarch of Chaeronea, translated out of Greeke into English, and
conferred with the Latine translations and the French, by Philemon\ Holland of
Coventrie, Doctor in Physicke. London, 1603.
28
370 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
he thought that he saw planets and other stars of an huge bigness,
distant an infinite way asunder, and yet for number innumerable,
casting from them a wonderful light, with a colour admirable,
the same glittering and shining most resplendent, with a power and
force incredible, in such sort, as the said soul being gently and easily
carried, as in a chariot, with this splendour and radiant light, as
it were upon the sea in a calm, went quickly whithersoever she
would ; but letting pass a great number of things worthy there
to be seen, he said that he beheld how the souls of those that were
departed this life, as they rose up and ascended, resembled certain
small fiery bubbles, and the air gave way and place unto them as
they mounted on high; but anon when these bubbles by little
and little brast insunder, the souls came forth of them, and appeared
in the form and shape of men and women, very light and nimble,
as discharged from all poise to bear them down: howbeit, they
did not move and bestir themselves all alike and after one sort;
for some leaped with a wonderful agility, and mounted directly
and plumb upright; others turned round about together like
unto bobbins or spindles, one while up and another while down, so
as their motion was mixed and confused, and so linked together,
that unneth for a good while and with much ado they could be
stayed and severed asunder. As for these souls and spirits, many
of them he knew not (as he said) who they were; but taking
knowledge of two or three among them who had been of his old
acquaintance, he pressed forward to approach near and to speak
unto them: but they neither heard him speak, nor indeed were in
their right senses; but being after a sort astonied and beside
themselves, refused once to be either seen or felt, wandering and
flying to and fro apart at the first ; but afterwards, encountering and
meeting with a number of others disposed like unto themselves,
they closed and clung unto them, and thus linked and coupled
together, they moved here and there disorderly without discretion,
and were carried every way to no purpose, uttering I wot not
what voices, after a manner of yelling or a black-sanctus, not
significant nor distinct, but as if they were cries mingled with
lamentable plaints and dreadful fear. Yet there were others to
be seen aloft in the uppermost region of the air, jocund, gay and
pleasant, so kind also and courteous, that oftentimes they would
seem to approach near one unto another, turning away from those
other that were tumultuous and disorderly. . . . Among these (by
his own saying) he had a sight of a soul belonging to a kinsman
and familiar friend of his, and yet he knew him not certainly, for
that he died whiles himself was a very child; howbeit, the said
soul, coming toward him, saluted him in these terms: God save
you, Thespesius: whereat he marvelled much, and said unto him:
I am not Thespesius, but my name is Aridaeus: True, indeed
THE PHAEDRUS MYTIL 371
(quoth the other), before-time you were so called, but from hence-
forth Thespesius shall be your name; for dead you are not yet,
but, by the providence of God and permission of Destiny, you are
hither come, with the intellectual part of the soul; and as for all
the rest, you have left it behind, sticking fast as an anchor to your
body: and that you may now know this and evermore hereafter,
take this for a certain rule and token; That the spirits of those
who are departed and dead indeed, yield no shadow from them ;
they neither wink nor yet open their eyes. Thespesius, hearing
these words, began to pluck up his spirits so much the more, for
to consider and discourse with himself: looking therefore every
way about him, he might perceive that there accompanied him a
certain shadowy and dark lineature, whereas the other souls shone
round about, and were clear and transparent within forth, how-
beit not all alike; for some yielded from them pure colour, uni-
form and equal, as doth the full moon when she is at the clearest ;
others had (as it were) scales or cicatrices, dispersed here and
there by certain distant spaces between ; some again were wonder-
ful hideous and strange to see unto, all to be specked with black
spots, like to serpents’ skins; and others had light scarifications
and obscure risings upon their visage. Now this kinsman of
Thespesius discoursed severally of each thing, saying: That
Adrasteia the Daughter of Jupiter and Necessity was placed
highest and above the rest, to punish and to be revenged
of all sorts of crimes and heinous sins, and that of wicked and
sinful wretches there was not one (great or small) who either by
force or cunning could ever save himself and escape punishment:
but of one kind of pain and punishment (for three sorts there be
in all) belonged to this gaoler or executioner, and another to that ;
for there is one which is quick and speedy called ou}, that is
Penalty, and this taketh in hand the execution and chastisement
of those who immediately in this life (whiles they are in their
bodies) be punished by the body, after a mild and: gentle manner,
leaving unpunished many light faults, which require some petty
purgation ; but such as require more ado to have their vices and
sins cured, God committeth them to be punished after death to a
second tormentress, named Δίκη, that is to say, Revenge; mary those
who are so laden with sins that they be altogether incurable, when
Δίκη hath given over and thrust them from her, the third minis-
tress of Adrasteia, which of all other is most cruel, and named
Erinnys, runneth after, chasing and pursuing them as they wander
and run up and down; these (I say), she courseth and hunteth
with great misery and much dolor, until such time as she have
overtaken them all and plunged them into a bottomless pit of
darkness inenarrable and invisible. . . . Observe well (quoth he)
and consider the diverse colours of these souls of all sorts; for
372 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
this blackish and foul duskish hue is properly the tincture of
avarice and niggardise ; that which is deep red and fiery betokeneth
cruelty and malice; whereas if it stand much upon blue it is a
sign that there intemperance and looseness in the use of pleasures
hath remained a long time, and will be hardly scoured off, for that
it is a vile vice: but the violet colour and sweetish withal pro-
ceedeth from envy, a venomous and poisoned colour. ... But
here it is a sign that the purification of the soul is fully finished,
whenas all these tinctures are done away quite, whereby the soul
may appear in her native hue, all fresh, neat, clear, and lightsome.
. . . Now, of these souls some there be which after they have
been well and thoroughly chastised, and that sundry times, recover
in the end a decent habitude and disposition ; but others again
are such as the vehemence of their ignorance, and the flatter-
ing shew of pleasures and lustful desire, transporteth them
into the bodies of brute beasts . . . they desire by the means of
the body to enjoy the fruition of their appetite; forasmuch as
here there is nothing at all but a bare shadow, and as one would
say, a vain dream of pleasure which never cometh to perfection
and fulness. When he had thus said, he brought and led me
away most swiftly an infinite way ; howbeit, with ease and gently,
upon the rays of the light, as if they had been wings, unto a certain
place where there was a huge wide chink tending downward still,
and thither being come, he perceived that he was forlorn and for-
saken of that powerful spirit that conducted and brought him
thither ; where he saw that other souls also were in the same case;
for being gathered and flocked together like a sort of birds, they
fly downward round about this gaping chawne, but enter into it
directly they durst not ; now the said chink resembled for all the
world within the caves of Bacchus, so tapissed and adorned they
were with the verdure of great leaves and branches, together with
all variety of gay flowers, from whence arose and breathed forth
a sweet and mild exhalation, which yielded a delectable and
pleasant savour, wonderful odoriferous, with a most temperate air,
which no less affected them that smelled thereof than the scent of
wine contenteth those who love to drink: in such sort as the
souls, feeding and feasting themselves with these fragrant odours,
were very cheerful, jocund and merry ; so as round about the said
place there was nothing but pastime, joy, solace, mirth, laughing
and singing, much after the manner of men that rejoice one with
another, and take all the pleasure and delight that possibly they
can. And he said, moreover, that Bacchus by that way mounted
up into the society of the Gods, and afterwards conducted Semele;
and withal, that it was called the place of Lethe, that is to say,
Oblivion: whereupon he would not let Thespesius, though he
were exceeding desirous, to stay there, but drew him away per-
THE PHARDRUS MYTH 373
force ; instructing him thus much and giving him to understand,
that reason and the intelligible part of the mind is dissolved and,
as it were, melted and moistened by this pleasure; but the un-
reasonable part which savoureth of the body, being watered and
incarnate therewith, reviveth the memory of the body ; and upon
this remembrance, there groweth and ariseth a lust and con-
cupiscence, which haleth and draweth unto generation (for so he
called it), to wit, a consent of the soul thereto, weighed down and
aggravated with over much moisture. Having therefore traversed
another way as long as the other, he was ware that he saw a
mighty standing bowl into which diverse rivers seemed to fall and
discharge themselves, whereof one was whiter than the foam of the
sea or driven snow, another of purple hue or scarlet colour, like to
that which appeareth in the rainbow; as for others, they seemed
afar off to have every one of them their distinct lustre and several
tincture. But when they approached near unto them, the afore-
said bowl, after that the air about was discussed and vanished
away, and the different colours of those rivers no more seen, left
the more flourishing colour, except only the white. Then he saw
there three Daemons or Angels sitting together in triangular form,
medling and mixing the rivers together with certain measures.
And this guide of Thespesius’s soul said, moreover, that Orpheus
came so far when he went after his wife ; but for that he kept not
well in mind that which he there saw, he had sowen one false tale
among men; to wit, that the oracle at Delphi was common to
Apollo and the Night (for there was no commerce or fellowship
at all between the Night and Apollo). But this oracle (quoth he)
is common to the Moon and the Night, which hath no determinate
and certain place upon the Earth, but is always errant and wander-
ing among men by dreams and apparitions ; which is the reason
that dreams compounded and mingled, as you see, of falsehood and
truth, of variety and simplicity, are spread and scattered over
the world. But as touching the oracle of Apollo, neither have
you seen it (quoth he), nor ever shall be able to see; for the
terrene substance or earthly part of the soul is not permitted to
arise and mount up on high, but bendeth downward, being fastened
unto the body. And with that he approached at once nearer, en-
deavouring to shew him the shining light of the three-feet or three-
footed stool, which (he said) from the bosom of the goddess Themis
reached as far as to the Mount Parnassus. And having a great
desire to see the same, yet he could not, his eyes were so dazzled
with the brightness thereof; howhbeit, as he passed by, a loud
and shrill voice he heard of a woman, who, among other things
delivered in metre, uttered also, as it should seem by way of pro-
phecy, the very time of his death: and the Daemon said it was
the voice of Sibylla; for she, being carried round in the globe
574 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
and face of the moon, did foretell and sing what was to come: but
being desirous to hear more, he was repelled and driven by the
violence of the moon, as it were with certain whirl-puffs, clean a
contrary way; so he could hear and understand but few things,
and those very short ; namely, the accident about the hill Vesuvius,
and how Dicaearchia should be consumed and burnt by casual fire,
as also a clause or piece of a verse, as touching the emperor who
then reigned, to this effect :—
A gracious prince he is, but yet must die,
And empire leave, by force of malady.
After this they passed on forward to see the pains and torments
of those who were punished; and there at first they beheld all
things most piteous and horrible to see to; for Thespesius, who
doubted nothing less, met in that place with many of his friends,
kinsfolk, and familiar companions, who were in torment, and
suffering dolorous pains and infamous punishment they moaned
themselves, lamenting and calling and crying unto him. At the
last he had a sight of his own father rising out of a deep pit; full
he was of pricks, gashes, and wounds, and stretching forth his
hands unto him, was (mauger his heart) forced to break silence,
yea, and compelled by those who had the charge and super-
intendence of the said punishments, to confess with a loud and
audible voice, that he had been a wicked murderer of certain
strangers and guests whom he had lodged in his house; for
perceiving that they had silver and gold about them, he had
wrought their death by the means of poison; and albeit he had
not been detected thereof in his lifetime, whiles he was upon the
earth, yet here was he convicted and had sustained already part
of his punishment, and expected to endure the rest afterwards.
Now Thespesius durst not make suit nor intercede for his father,
so affrighted he was and astonied; but desirous to withdraw
himself and be gone, he lost sight of that courteous and kind
guide of his which all this while had conducted him, and he saw
him no more: but he might perceive other horrible and hideous
spirits who enforced and constrained him to pass further, as if it
were necessary that he should traverse still more ground: so he
saw those who were notorious malefactors, in the view of every
man (or who in this world had been chastised), how their shadow
was here tormented with less pain, and nothing like to others, as
having been feeble and imperfect in the reasonless part of the
soul, and therefore subject to passions and affections ; but such as
were disguised and cloaked with an outward appearance and
reputation of virtue abroad, and yet had lived covertly and
secretly at home in wickedness, certain that were about them
forced some of them to turn the inside outward, and with much
ΤῊΝ PHAEDRUS MYTH 375
pain and grief to lay themselves open, to bend and bow, and
discover their hypocritical hearts within, even against their own
nature, like unto the scolopenders of the sea, when they have
swallowed down an hook, are wont to turn themselves outward :
but others they flayed and displayed, discovering plainly and
openly how faulty, perverse, and vicious they had been within,
as whose principal part of the reasonable soul vice had possessed.
He said, moreover, that he saw other souls wound and interlaced
one within another, two, three, and more together, like to vipers
and other serpents, and these not forgetting their old grudge and
malicious ranker one against another, or upon remembrance of
losses and wrongs sustained by others, fell to gnawing and
devouring each other. Also, that there were three parallel lakes
ranged in equal distance one from the other; the one seething
and boiling with gold, another of lead exceeding cold, and a
third, most rough, consisting of iron: and that there were certain
spirits called Daemons which had the overlooking and charge of
them ; and these, like unto metal-founders, or smiths, with certain
instruments either plunged in, or drew out, souls. As for those
who were given to filthy lucre, and by reason of insatiable avarice
committed wicked parts, those they let down into the lake of
melted gold, and when they were once set on a light fire, and
made transparent by the strength of those flames within the said
lake, then plunged they were into the other of lead; where after
they were congealed and hardened in manner of hail, they trans-
ported them anew into the third lake of iron, where they became
exceeding black and horrible, and being cracked and broken by
reason of their dryness and hardness, they changed their form,
and then at last (by his saying) they were thrown again into the
foresaid lake of gold, suffering by the means of these changes and
mutations intolerable pains. But those souls (quoth he) who
made the greatest moan unto him, and seemed most miserably
(of all others) to be tormented, were they who, thinking they
were escaped and past their punishment, as who had suffered
sufficiently for their deserts at the hands of vengeance, were taken
again and put to fresh torments; and those they were for whose
sins their children and others of their posterity suffered punish-
ment: for whensoever one of the souls of their children or
nephews in lineal descent either met with them, or were brought
unto them, the same fell into a fit of anger, crying out upon
them, shewing the marks of the torments and pains that it
sustained, reproaching and hitting them in the teeth therefor ;
but the other, making haste to fly and hide themselves, yet were
not able so to do; for incontinently the tormentors followed after
and pursued them, who brought them back again to their punish-
ment, crying out and lamenting for nothing so much as that they
376 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
did foresee the torment which they were to suffer, as having
experience thereof already. Furthermore, he said that he saw
some, and those in number many, either children or nephews,
hanging together fast like bees or bats, murmuring and grumbling
for anger, when they remembered and called to mind what
sorrows and calamities they sustained for their sake. But the
last thing that he saw were the souls of such as entered into
a second life and new nativity, as being turned and transformed
forcibly into other creatures of all sorts, by certain workmen
appointed therefor, who, with tools for the purpose, and many a
stroke, forged and framed some of their parts new, bent and
wrested others, took away and abolished a third sort; and all,
that they might sort and be suitable to other conditions and
lives: among which he espied the soul of Nero afflicted already
grievously enough otherwise, with many calamities, pierced
thorough every part with spikes and nails red-hot with fire:
and when the artisans aforesaid took it in hand to transform it
into the shape of a viper, of which kind (as Pindarus saith) the
young ones gnaweth through the bowels of the dam to come into
the world, and to devour it, he said that all on a sudden there
shone forth a great light out of which there was heard a voice
giving commandment that they should metamorphose and trans-
figure it into the form of another kind of beast more gentle and
tame, forging a water-creature of it, chanting about standing
lakes and marishes ; for that he had been in some sort punished
already for the sins which he had committed, and besides, some
good turn is due unto him from the gods, in that, of all his
subjects, he had exempted from tax, tallage, and tribute the best
nation and most beloved of the gods, to wit, the Greeks. Thus
far forth, he said, he was only a spectator of these matters; but
when he was upon his return, he abid all the pains in the world
for very fear that he had; for there was a certain woman, for
visage and stately bigness admirable, who took hold on him, and
said: Come hither, that thou mayest keep in memory all that
thou hast seen the better: wherewith she put forth unto him
a little rod or wand all fiery, such as painters or enamellers use ;
but there was another that stayed her: and then he might
perceive himself to be blown by a strong and violent wind with
a trunk or pipe, so that in the turning of an hand he was within
his own body again, and so began to look up with his eyes
in manner out of his grave and sepulchre.
Let me now call the reader’s attention to some points
which ought to be noticed in the foregoing Myth.
The Myth, as I said, is one of a well-marked class of
Eschatological Myths (to which the Timarehus Myth in
THE PHARDRUS MYTH 377
Plutarch’s de Genio Socratis also belongs) based on the ritual
observed at Initiation, which, indeed, they merely transfer
from the sanctuary in this world to the world of spirits,
The apparent death of Aridaeus-Thespesius stands in the
Myth for the ceremonial death which an initiated person
suffers, who, in simulating actual death by falling into a
trance, or even by allowing himself to be treated as a corpse,
dies to sin in order to live henceforth a regenerate life in this
world. The accident which brings on the state of apparent
death is a literary device adopted in order to give veri-
similitude to the idea that the Soul of Aridaeus-Thespesius
actually visits the other world, and returns to this world to
tell the tale. By this device the experiences of a newly
initiated person returning to ordinary life a regenerate man
are transformed into those which an actual revenant from
beyond the grave would have to tell. The accident which
befalls Aridaeus-Thespesius is, in fact, the mythological
equivalent of the ἔκπληξις which confounds the candidate at
the beginning of his Initiation—an ἔκπληξις comparable with
the sharpness of death, and resulting in a trance, during
which he is ceremonially a dead man.
Pour acquérir une Ame nouvelle (says M. le Comte Goblet
d’Alviella),! “il faut renoncer ἃ l’ancienne ; il faut d’abord mourir.
Aussi la plupart des initiations impliquent-elles une mort
apparente, soit qu’on soumette le néophyte ἃ une immolation
simulée, soit qu’on lui impose un voyage au pays des défunts.
Mourir, disait Plutarque, en jouant sur les mots, c’est étre
initié: τελευτᾶν Ξε τελεῖσθαι. Réciproquement, pourrait-on ajouter,
étre initié, cest mourir. Du moins c’est encourir une mort
temporaire pour revivre dans les conditions différentes et meil-
leures. En ce sens J'initiation est bien une ré-génération. 1]
en était ainsi chez les anciens, aussi bien que parmi les peuplades
non civilisées dont je viens de décrire les coutumes.”
Nous voyons par le récit d’Apulée que l’initiation aux mystéres
d'Isis était envisagée comme une mort volontaire conduisant ἃ
1 Eleusinia (Paris, 1903), p. 63.
2 o.c. p. 62: ‘‘ Dans certaines parties du Congo, les jeunes gens en Age de
passer hommes feignent de tomber morts. Emportés par les féticheurs dans
la forét, ils y passent plusieurs mois, parfois plusieurs années; puis ils ren-
trent dans leur famille, mais ils doivent se comporter comme s’ils avaient tout
oublié de leur vie antérieure, y compris le langage et l’habitude de se nourrir
eux-mémes. On doit refaire leur éducation, comme s'il s’agissait de nouveau-
nés.” Cf. W. H. Bentley, Life on the Congo (London, 1887), pp. 78 ff.
378 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
une autre vie.! Les mystéres de Cybéle comprenaient le tauro-
bole et le criobole, ou linitié, couché dans une fosse, recevait sur
le corps le sang d’un taureau ou d’un bélier; dés ce moment il
devenait tawrobolio criobolioque in aeternum renatus.2 Dans Inde,
aujourd’hui encore, le jeune brahmane qui veut se fair initier
ἃ la connaissance du Véda par un gourou doit se soumettre ἃ une
cérémonie qui le fait prétendument repasser ἃ l'état d’embryon.®
Enfin, au sein du Christianisme, le baptéme qui constitue la for-
malité essentielle de l’entrée dans la communauté des fidéles a
toujours été présenté comme un ensevelissement symbolique en
vue d’une résurrection spirituelle* On lit sur larchitrave du
baptistére du Latran, le plus ancien de la chrétienté actuelle, la
devise suivante, qu’y avait fait graver, au V° siécle, le pape
Xystus ili. :—
Caelorum regnum sperate, hoc fonte renati ;
Non recipit felix vita semel genitos.
La prestation des voeux, dans certains ordres religieux, qui est
une véritable initiation, comprend une célébration de loffice des
morts sur le novice couché dans une biére ou étendu sous un
suaire, entre quatre cierges. Aprés le chant du Miserere, il se
reléve, fait le tour de l’assistance en recevant le baiser de paix
et va communier entre les mains de l’abbé. De ce jour, il prend
un nouveau nom qu'il gardera jusqu’é la mort.®
1 Met. xi.
2 Corp. Insc. Lat. vi. p. 97, No. 510.
3 Sacred Books of the East, vol. xliv. pp. 86-90. Perhaps we may be allowed
to bring into comparison with this custom another custom mentioned by Dr.
Budge: speaking of a certain prehistoric form of burial in Egypt, he says
(Egyptian Ideas of the Future Life, p. 162 ff.): ‘‘They are buried in the ante-
natal position of a child, and we may perhaps be justified in seeing in this
custom the symbol of a hope that as the child is born from this position into the
world, so might the deceased be born into the life in the world beyond the
grave. .. . The Egyptians continued to mummify their dead, not believing
that their physical bodies would rise again, but because they wished the
spiritual body to ‘sprout’ or ‘germinate’ from them, and if possible—at least
it seems so—to be in the form of the physical body.”
4 Rom. vi. 4, Coloss. ii. 12, ‘‘ Buried with him in baptism, wherein also ye
are risen with him through the faith of the operation of God, who hath raised
him from the dead.”
5 Ceremoniale benedictinum, in Dictionnaire de Théologie Catholique (Paris,
Gaume, 1863), t. xix. pp. 184, 185.
® See also Dieterich (Hine Mithrasliturgie, pp. 158-161, 166, 175), and
authorities cited by him (e.g. Frazer, The Golden Bough, iii. 442 ff. ; Codrington,
The Melanesians, 39), for the wide prevalence among primitive, as well as among
civilised races, of this view of Initiation (whether Initiation at the age of
a or at other times) asa Death (simulated by the novice) and a ew
sirth, followed often by the imposition of a New Name. When ceremonial
Death takes the form of actual unconsciousness, a stupefying drink is generally
the agent employed. I would suggest that the drinking of the water of Lethe,
in Greek mythology, by Souls about to be born again in the flesh, has its origin
in this custom of administering a stupefying drink to the patients of initiatory
rites, who ‘‘ die to live.”
‘For all Greek mysteries,” says Mr. A. Lang (Homeric Hymns, p. 93), ‘‘a
THE ΓΠΑ ΗΝ MYTH 379
The Place of Lethe, in the Aridaeus-Thespesius Myth, is
difficult to localise; but it is evidently a place Souls come
to in their descent from the aethereal and aerial regions, lying
somewhere between these regions and the Earth. The foliage
and flowers of the place remind us of the Terrestrial Paradise,
midway between Heaven and Earth, in which Dante places
the Stream of Lethe. Plutarch’s whole description, however,
reflects the doctrine, which we afterwards find in Plotinus
and others of the Neo-Platonic school, of the Mirror and Bowl
of Dionysus, and cannot properly be brought into line with
such a description of the River of Lethe as we have in the
Myth of Er. In one point, however, the two descriptions
seem to be at one—the Place of Lethe is not subterranean.
The Bowl, the Oracle of Night and the Moon, at which
the three Daemons sit, mixing dreams, is, I think, the Moon,
above which the Soul of Aridaeus-Thespesius cannot rise,
because the irrational part of it is still in the body on Earth.
As we learn from the de facie in orbe lunae,’ that part, as well
as the rational part, rises, at the death of the body on Earth,
up to the Moon; and it is only when the death of the
irrational part has taken place on the Moon that the rational
part can rise to its original home, the Sun. The rational
part of the Soul of Aridaeus-Thespesius, then, comes near to,
but may not pass, the Moon; and can only see from afar the
glory of the true Delphi which is eternal in the Heavens—
the Sun, the seat of Apollo, the home of Reason. Orpheus,
when he went to seek Eurydice, came, Aridaeus-Thespesius is
told, only as far as the Oracle of Dreams, i.e. the Moon. The
celestial or astronomical eschatology, which, in Plutarch, has
taken the place of the terrestrial, converts, we thus see, the
, " , : > ΄, 9
κατάβασις Opdéws into an ἀνάβασις."
satisfactory savage analogy can be found. These spring straight from human
nature ; from the desire to place customs, and duties, and taboos under divine
protection ; from the need of strengthening them, and the influence of the
elders, by mystic sanctions ; from the need of fortifying and trying the young
by probations of strength, secrecy, and fortitude ; from the magical expulsion of
hostile influences ; from the sympathetic magic of early agriculture ; from study
of the processes of nature regarded as personal; and from guesses, surmises,
visions, and dreams as to the fortunes of the wandering soul on its way to its
final home.”
1 Chapters 28-30.
2 Mr. Arthur Fairbanks (Class. Rev. Nov. 1901), commenting on Soph. Ajaz,
1192, and quoting Eur. He/. 1016, 1219, Frag. 971, Suppl. 1140, connects the
ascension of Souls into the aether with the practice of cremation.
380 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
The torments of Hell or Purgatory are described in the
Aridaeus-Thespesius Myth with almost Dantesque power ;
indeed, the three lakes and the treatment of Souls in them
present a picture of terror which it would be hard to out-
match in literature. But where is the place of these
torments? Under the Earth? I think not. The following
passage in the de facie in orbe lunae seems to me to be
conclusive in favour of locating these torments in the lower
region of the air: πᾶσαν ψυχήν, ἄνουν τε Kal σὺν νῷ, σώματος
ἐκπεσοῦσαν, εἱμαρμένον ἐστὶ τῷ μεταξὺ γῆς καὶ σελήνης
χωρίῳ πλανηθῆναι χρόνον οὐκ ἴσον: ἀλλ᾽ αἱ μὲν ἄδικοι καὶ
ἀκόλαστοι δίκας τῶν ἀδικημάτων τίνουσι' τὰς δ᾽ ἐπιεικεῖς,
ὅσον ἀφαγνεῦσαι καὶ ἀποπνεῦσαι ἀπὸ τοῦ σώματος, ὥσπερ
αἰτίου πονηροῦ, μιασμούς, ἐν τῷ πρᾳοτάτῳ τοῦ ἀέρος, ὃν
λειμῶνας ἅδου καλοῦσι, δεῖ γίνεσθαι χρόνον τινὰ τεταγμένον.
The conclusion to be drawn from the foregoing passage seems
to be borne out by the passage at the beginning of the
Aridaeus-Thespesius Myth, where Souls are seen ascending
like bubbles—Souls of all sorts, good, bad, and indifferent,
each sort distinguished by its own colour; and the gulf, or
χάσμα, Which Timarchus sees in the de genio Socratis Myth,
he sees when he is no longer within sight of the Earth: it
is the place of torment—a seething abyss of air (1 think),
on the surface of which half-submerged Souls are seen floating,
like stars or will-o’-the-wisps.2 At the same time it must
be admitted that Plutarch’s power of place-visualisation is
not so clear and distinct as to leave one without doubt as to
the locality of his Place of Torment—it may, after all, be
subterranean, not aerial; I am inclined, however, to think
that, following undoubted precedent,®? he makes it aerial—
that he localises the whole eschatological drama— Inferno,
Purgatorio, and Paradiso—in the air and aether.
There is another point of interest which ought to be
noticed in connection with the Aridaeus-Thespesius Myth
—the remarkably developed power of colour-visualisation of
1 Plutarch, de fac. in orbe lun. 28. * De gen. Soc. 22.
* See Rohde, Psyche, ii. 319, n. 4, where the Stoical doctrine of the levity of
the Soul is alluded to as incompatible with its κατάβασις, and Sext. adv. phys. 1,
71, is quoted for this—xal yap οὐδὲ ras ψυχὰς ἔνεστιν ὑπονοῆσαι κάτω φερομένας.
λεπτομερεῖς γὰρ οὖσαι els τοὺς ἄνω μᾶλλον τόπους κουφοφοροῦσι. See supra,
Ρ. 367, n. 2, for the localisation of Hell in the Third Heaven by the writer of
the Secrets of Enoch.
THE PHAEDRUS MYTH 381
which it affords evidence. Effects of light, lustre, and colour
constantly appeal to us, But, on the other hand, the power
of place-and-form-visualisation seems to be deficient, or, at
any rate, not to be developed equally with that of colour-
visualisation. Plutarch’s other great Eschatological Myth—
that in the de genio Socratis—likewise affords evidence of
highly developed power of colour-visualisation with, at any
rate, comparatively little power of place-and-form-visualisa-
tion! Highly developed power of visualising in both kinds
—in both colour and form—is indeed a rare gift. Dante
had it. Place and Form are as distinct in the Jnferno and
Purgatorio as Light and Colour are glorious in the Paradiso.
Plato visualises Place and Form with great distinctness, but
not, I think, with Dante’s convincing distinctness; the
Abstract Thinker competed, in Plato, with the Poet to a much
greater extent than in Dante. In power of colour-visualisa-
tion, however, Dante is greatly Plato’s superior; and com-
paring Plato and Plutarch in this respect, I would say that
the latter gives, at any rate, more evidence of the possession
of the power than the former does. Against the remarkable
colour effects of the Myths in the de genio Socratis and the
de sera numinis vindicta, we can only set, from Plato’s Myths,
some much more ordinary effects—that of the description, in
the Phaedo Myth, of the party-coloured Earth seen from above,
that of the colour of the Stygian Region in the same Myth,
that of the rainbow-coloured pillar in the Myth of Er, and
certain general effects of light conveyed by words here and
there in the Phaedrus Myth. This is not the place to pursue
the subject of the relation of highly developed power of
colour-visualisation and highly developed power of form-
visualisation to each other and to other faculties in the Man
of Science and the Poet respectively. It is a subject which
has special importance for the psychology of the poetical
temperament, and deserves more attention, in that connection,
than it has hitherto received; although invaluable service has
already been done, in the way of laying the foundation from
which any such special inquiry must start, by Mr. F. Galton
in his Inquiries into Human Faculty and its Development
(1883), to which the reader is now referred.
1 This Myth is given on pp. 441 ff.
382 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
wok
1
ἡ ἀπὸ Μουσῶν κατοκωχή τε καὶ μανία
It was maintained in the Introductory Part of this work
that the Poet performs his essential function as Poet only in
so far as he rouses Transcendental Feeling in his patient,
and that he does so by inducing in him the state of dream-
consciousness. It is characteristic of this state, as induced
by the Poet, that it does not continue for any appreciable
length of time, but takes the form of fitfully recurrent lapses
in the midst of a waking consciousness, which it is also the
Poet’s function—but only as skilled workman, not as inspired
Poet—to furnish with suitable objects. As workman the
Poet must have skill to tell a story, whether in narrative,
or in dramatic or in lyrical form, whether true or fictitious,
which shall be interesting to the waking consciousness as
a story—which shall appeal powerfully to our natural love of
“anthropology,” and to other common sentiments of the
human breast. The interesting story, with its appeal to our
common sentiments, constitutes, as it were, the Body of the
poem, and bulks largely—
She would na ha’e a Lowland Laird,
Nor be an English Lady ;
But she’s awa wi’ Duncan Graham,
An’ he’s row’d her in his plaidie.
This is “what the poem is about ”—its subject matter, its
Body—and is always with us. But the Soul—the essential
Poetry of a poem, is apprehended only at those moments
when the common sentiments—-wonder, love, pity, dread,
curiosity, amusement— roused by the workman’s artistic
handling of the subject-matter, are satisfied fantastically, as
in a dream, by some image presented or suggested, or by some
1 Phaedrus, 245.4: τρίτη δὲ ἀπὸ Μουσῶν κατοκωχή τε καὶ μανία λαβοῦσα
ἁπαλὴν καὶ ἄβατον ψυχὴν ἐγείρουσα καὶ ἐκβακχεύουσα κατά τε ᾧδὰς καὶ κατὰ
τὴν ἄλλην ποίησιν μυρία τῶν παλαιῶν ἔργα κοσμοῦσα τοὺς ἐπιγιγνομένους
παιδεύει. ὃς δ' ἂν ἄνευ μανίας Μουσῶν ἐπὶ ποιητικὰς θύρας ἀφίκηται, πεισθεὶς ὡς
ἄρα ἐκ τέχνης ἱκανὸς ποιητὴς ἐσόμενος, ἀτελὴς αὐτός τε καὶ ἡ ποίησις ὑπὸ τῆς
τῶν μαινομένων ἡ τοῦ σωφρανοῦντος ἠφανίσθη.
* Plato’s Jon should be read in connection with this. It is a study of ‘‘ Poetic
Inspiration,”
THE PHALDRUS MYTH 383
mysterious omen of word or phrase or cadence, It is in
giving such satisfaction to natural sentiments which his art
has aroused in his patient that the Poet shows his genius
as distinguished from his art. His gift is a sort of μαντικὴ
xa’ ὕπνον. In sleep some ordinary sensation of cold, or
heat, or of some other kind, starts an explanatory pageant
of dream-images. So in the Poet’s mind some common senti-
ment, which he experiences more vividly than other men as
he tells his story, expresses itself suddenly in some image or
other representation ; and his reader, in whose mind he has
already roused the same sentiment by his story, welcomes the
image or other representation, as expressing the sentiment—
as relieving the weight of it, as solving the mystery of
it, as justifying it. It is in a dream, fantastically, that the
relief, the solution, the justification, are found; for the Poet’s
image, the product in him of the dream-consciousness, becomes
in the Poet’s patient the producer of a state of consciousness
like that which produced it in the Poet. The case is
analogous to that of one mimicking or dwelling on the out-
ward expression of a mental state in another, and having the
state thereby produced by reaction in himself.
The dream-state produced in the patient by the reaction
on his consciousness of the imagery, and other dream-products,
supplied by the genius of the Poet, though it lasts as dream-
state but for a moment, yet leaves an effect behind which
persists more or less sensibly throughout the waking con-
sciousness which follows; and if the lapses into the dream-
state induced by a poem are frequent, the effect, persisting in
the waking consciousness which apprehends the subject-matter,
becomes always more and more impressive. This effect may
be described as a feeling of having lately been in some δαιμόνιος
τόπος, where the true reasons of the things which happen in
this world of ordinary experience are laid up; a Place in
which one understood the significance of these things, although
one cannot now explain what one then understood. In the
Phaedrus Myth, where the Souls peep over the edge of the
Cosmos for a moment into the πεδίον ἀληθείας beyond, and
then sink down into the region of the sensible, this feeling of
“having just now understood the true significance of things”
is pictorially rendered.
984 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
I venture to urge on those who discuss that vexed
question—“ What is Poetic Truth?” the importance of not
neglecting this “feeling of having just now understood the
true significance of things “—a feeling which, of course, is
experienced pretty generally, and quite apart from the in-
fluence of Poetry, although in the case of those who come
under that influence it is so elaborately procured and regu-
lated as to become an important factor in their lives. When
we are told by the exponents of “ Poetic Truth,” from Aristotle
downwards, that it is the “ Universal,’—that “ Poetry sets
forth the Universal,’—we are not asked to believe that there
are Universals (in the plural) of Poetry like those of Science
—principles supplhed by Poetry which explain particulars, or
furnish some definite guidance in respect of them, as, eg., the
Law of Gravitation “explains” the orbits of the planets, or
even as the “Principles of Economics” furnish guidance in
particular cases arising in the course of business. If, then,
the exponents of “ Poetic Truth” do not claim for the “ Uni-
versal” of Poetry that it provides any such explanation or
guidance in detail, what do they understand it to be and do?
It seems to me that their exposition amounts to this :—
The Universal of Poetry is that which does for the details of
the Poet’s interesting Story or Picture what “ Knowledge of
the Good” does for the objects of Conduct: it is οἷον τὸ φῶς,
as it were a Light, in which they are bathed and altered
—an atmosphere of solemn elemental feeling through
which we see the representations of Poetry, as we see the
presentations of Social Life—dits claims and temptations—
through the medium of the Sense of Duty, If this is
what the doctrine of the “Universal of Poetry,” as ex-
pounded by those who have written on the subject, amounts
to, I am entirely in agreement with them. I am merely
putting their doctrine in other words when I state my own
view as follows :—The “ Universal of Poetry” is apprehended
by us when, having entered at the beck of the Poet, our μυστα-
ywyos, into the vast wonderland of the dream-consciousness,
we presently return therefrom to the waking world of his
interesting story, and see its particulars again with the eyes
of revenants who now know their secret meaning—or rather,
know that they have a secret meaning—that they represent,
THE ΜΑ͂Σ MYTH 385
here in the world of our ordinary observations and sentiments,
the truth of a deeper order of reality. So, Plato’ will have
his Guardians believe that the particular events of their lives
here are but representative doubles of things which are accom-
plished in a real life behind: the Guardians are to be told
that “their youth was a dream ”——that they merely imagined
that they were being educated here: in reality, all the while,
it was elsewhere, in the womb of their Mother Earth, that
they were being fashioned and nurtured.
Let me not be misunderstood. I do not underrate the
importance in Poetry of all that appeals to our love of
“anthropology.” The Odyssey must be interesting as, say, the
Voyages of Columbus are interesting; the Songs of Burns and
Goethe must be interesting as the common sentiments and
experiences which they set forth are interesting to us all in
our own lives and the lives of our neighbours. Minute
character-drawing, the picturesque portrayal of people as they
strike the eye in their surroundings, dramatic representation
of their doings and fortunes, and description of the natural
world, especially as scene of man’s adventures and musings—
all these, in their proper places, must be supplied by the Poet ;
but they are what I have called the Body of Poetry—they
constitute the material which the Soul of Poetry inspires.
The material must, indeed, be interesting to the waking con-
sciousness, if it is to be inspired; but it may well be interest-
ing without being inspired. The inspiration, I have argued,
if it comes, comes from the dream-consciousness. The Soul of
Poetry is apprehended in its Body at the moment when we
awake from the “ Poet’s Dream,” and on a sudden see the passing
figures and events of his interesting story arrested in their
temporal flight, like the “brede of marble men and maidens ἢ
on the Grecian Urn, and standing still, swb specie aeternitatis,
as emblems—of what ?—of Eternal Verities,the purport of which
we cannot now recall; but we know that they are valid, and are
laid up in that other world from which we are newly returned.”
1 Republic, 414.
2 See Plotinus, Znn. vi. 9. 9 and 10: speaking of the return from the ecstatic
to ordinary, consciousness, he says—-dtc¢pacrov τὸ θέαμα (what was seen in the
ecstatic state). πῶς yap ἂν ἀπαγγείλειέ τις ὡς ἕτερον οὐκ ἰδὼν ἐκεῖνο bre ἐθεᾶτο
ἕτερον, ἀλλὰ ἕν πρὸς ἑαυτόν : and see infra, p. 387, where it is contended that the
feeling of being ‘‘one with the world” is that experienced when great poetry
exerts its influence most powerfully.
20
386 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
It may be objected that “Poetic Truth” is not rated
highly enough when its “ Universal” is identified with a
“vague feeling” of some inexplicable significance attaching to
objects and sentiments, within the sphere of ordinary experi-
ence, which are brought before us in the Poet’s story. The
patent fact that Poetry “elevates” men’s lives may be urged
against a view which reduces its “ Truth” to the low level, it
may be thought, of a feeling of the “Irrational Part of the
Soul.” I would meet this objection by referring to what I
have said about the relation of the conscious Self of waking
experience—the sensitive and rational Self—to the Self of
the dream-consciousness, and of both to the unconscious Self
of the “ Vegetative Part of the Soul,” in which they have
their roots. The Vegetative Part, I argued, is the principle
within us which inspires the conscious life with that which
is the foundation of conduct, and (when we turn to specula-
tion) the beginning and end of Metaphysics—that faith in
reality and goodness in the strength of which we struggle on,
seeking ever new experiences and adventures. J put no
slight, therefore, upon the “ Universal of Poetry” if I ascribe
it to the inspiration of this fundamental principle making
itself felt in consciousness, not in the normal form of implicit
belief in the Worth of Life, but less normally as the dream-
intuition of a ground of that belief. The Metaphysician is
too often found trying to set forth a ground which shall be
plain to the Understanding, forgetting that
Thou canst not prove the Nameless,
Nor canst thou prove the world thou movest in,
For nothing worthy proving can be proven,
Nor yet disproven.
The Poet does better: he induces the dream-intuition of a
ground, and leaves us with the wonder of the vision haunting
our minds when we wake to pursue the details of his interest-
ing story.
But in what form, it will be asked, does this ground of
our faith present itself to the dream-consciousness? It
presents itself, I would answer, as “another world” one,
unchanging, good, certified, by the testimony of one swift
act of perfect intuition, to exist beyond, or rather within, the
THE ΠΑΝ MYTH 387
world of multiplicity and change and trouble which the senses
and understanding present to us; and, recapitulating all that
I have said in this section, and other parts of this work, I
would describe the way in which the Poet brings us to this
intuition as follows :—
The Poet, by means of words, makes us, his patients, see
those wondrous images of the familiar things of human life
and experience which he himself sees.’ We dream his dream.
But, in a moment, our dream is past, and we see, with the
waking mind’s eye, the familiar things which, a moment
before—or was it not ages ago ?’—were so wondrously trans-
formed for the dreaming mind’s-eye. Henceforth all is
changed. Whatever bit of interesting human life and ex-
perience the Poet has taken for his “subject,’——be it the
situation which appeals to tender sentiment in a love-song,
-the action which appeals to pity, fear, grief, risibility, expect-
ant curiosity, in a play, the world of nature which appeals to
us as scene of man’s adventures and musings, in a poem of
observation and reflection,— whatever be the interesting bit of
human life and experience which the Poet has presented to
us, it is now, for us also, no longer a mere particular experi-
ence. We now see this bit of common experience in a setting
of mysterious feeling. When we try to explain to ourselves
what this mysterious feeling is which can so wondrously
transfigure a bit of common experience, we are fain to borrow
the language of logic, and speak of it as a “ Universal ”—
“the particular,” we say, “is no longer a particular: it bears
the image of the Universal, reflects the light of the Uni-
versal.” But this so-called “ Universal” is no conceptual
product of the logical understanding: the logical understand-
ing, like the senses, regards the World as a number of more or
less connected items external to itself; but this feeling which
is come over us is the feeling of being one with the World.
This feeling of being one with the World is the reflection, in
consciousness, of the condition of that unconscious “ Vegetative
1 «* Als die einfachste und richtigste Definition der Poesie méchte ich diese
aufstellen, dass sie die Kunst ist, durch Worte die Einbildungskraft ins Spiel
zu versetzen’’ (Schopenhauer, Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, ii. 484).
Poesis est genus doctrinae, verbis plerumque adstrictum, rebus solutum et
licentiosum ; itaque ad phantasiam refertur, quae iniqua et illicita prorsus
rerum conjugia et divortia comminisci et machinari solet (Bacon, de Augm.
Se. ii. cap. 13).
388 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Soul” in us which is the foundation of our conscious life—
which, by its continuous activity, sustains the broken activities
of our conscious life, and correlates them, and inspires us with
invincible faith in a real World, as part of which, or as one
with which, it is good to live. This faith is the stuff out of
which the Thinking Faculty, in course of time, constructs its
preposterous “ontology,” or theory of a real World in which,
and of which, it is good to be—a theory which consists in
the production of ex post facto reasons for what Transcendental
Feeling, representing, in consciousness, the condition of the
unconscious “ Vegetative Soul” in us, lays down as a sure
first principle,—that behind, or rather within, the temporal
world of particular items presented to us in the life of the
senses and understanding,—behind the world of “phenomena
which we can never explain” and “ passions of which we have
not yet formed clear and distinct ideas,” there is an eternal
World—one, unchangeable good. This is the World which the
“Vegetative Part of the Soul” puts its trust in; and the
other “ Parts,’ sensitive and rational, follow its lead—with
increasing hesitation and scepticism as “ higher” operations of
consciousness come into play: but yet they follow—
” ’ > > ~ Ν ’ > e ,
ἄγου δέ μ᾽ ὦ Zev καὶ σύ γ᾽ ἡ Πεπρωμένη
ὅποι ποθ᾽ ὑμῖν εἰμι διατεταγμένος᾽
ΠῚ μή / > ” Ἂ \ ‘\ /
ὡς ἕψομαί γ᾽ aoxvos: ἢν δὲ μὴ θέλω.
κακὸς γενόμενος, οὐδὲν ἧττον ἕψομαι.
To feel of a sudden that there is surely an eternal World
behind, or within, the temporal world of particular items, is
to experience the κάθαρσις which Poetry—one among other
agencies—effects in us.
I would conclude this Section with some remarks on
the place of Metrical Form — melodious and rhythmic
diction—and of Imagination, or Representation, respectively
in Poetry.
If the essential function of Poetry, as Poetry, is to rouse
Transcendental Feeling by inducing lapses into the state of
dream-consciousness, it is easy to see that metrical form is helpful
towards the exercise of this function, Metrical form repre-
sents song and dance, both natural expressions of, and both
powerfully reacting on, those modes of what may be called
THE ΠΑΝ MYTH 389
Empirical ' Feeling which have been most influential in the
development of man as social being—sympathy with kinsmen
and associates, joy and sorrow, love and hatred, confidence and
fear, experienced by each man in common with the other
members of his tribe.” When we civilised men are subjected
to the influence of metrical diction, we are visited, in our soli-
tude, by faint shadows, as it were, of those actual feelings
which social song and dance expressed and strengthened in
primitive man, As experiencing these feelings in this shadowy
form, we are, ipso facto, withdrawn from the current world of
actual feelings, sense-impressions, and concepts of the under-
standing, and carried away to the confines of the dream-world
into which it is the peculiar office of the Poet to transport us,
in order that we may see, just for a moment, the creations
with which he has filled it, and then may return, surrounded
by an atmosphere of Transcendental Feeling, to see, in the
waking world of his interesting story, the doubles of these
creations reflecting, each with its own specific tint, the solemn
light of that feeling. But is metrical form absolutely necessary
to the exercise of this peculiar office of Poetry ? For an answer
to this question I go to a great poet, than whom there is none
greater, I think, whether he be judged by power of rousing
Transcendental Feeling or by mastery of the art of versifica-
tion—to Coleridge. “The writings of Plato,” he says,’ “and
11 venture to speak of ‘‘ Empirical Feeling”’ as distinguished from ‘‘ Tran-
scendental Feeling.’’ Empirical Feeling has such modes as love, hate, fear, anger,
surprise ; they are specifically marked off from one another, and are always
experienced each in a set of circumstances, or in relation to some object, which
is ΠΩΣ marked off from other sets of circumstances or other objects. These
modes of feeling accordingly, like the objects which arouse them, come into con-
sciousness, or supervene ; they are ἃ posteriori data of consciousness—empirically
received. But Transcendental Feeling—Faith in the Worth of Life—is not a
datum of conscious experience, like this or that mode of Empirical Feeling ; it
does not merely supervene or come into consciousness ; it is already involved
in consciousness ; it is the a priori condition of conscious activity ; if we had it
not, we should not endure to live and seek after the @ posteriori data which make
the content of life.
2 **Circling in the common dance, moving and singing in the consent of com-
mon labour, the makers of earliest poetry put into it those elements without which
it cannot thrive now. . . . It is clear from the study of poetic beginnings that
poetry in its larger sense is not a natural impulse of man, simply as man. His
rhythmic and kindred instincts, latent in the solitary state, found free play only
under communal conditions, and as powerful factors in the making of society.’"—
Gummere, The Beginnings of Poetry (1901), p. 4738. I find much that I can
agree with in Prof. Gummere’s book ; but I think that he (together with many
others) is wrong in making metrical form essential to Poetry.
3 Coleridge, Biogr. Lit. ch. xiv.
390 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Bishop Taylor, and the Zheoria Sacra of Burnet, furnish
undeniable proofs that poetry of the highest kind may exist
without metre, and even without the contradistinguishing
objects of a poem ;” and again,’ “ Metre in itself is simply a
stimulant of the attention ... I write in metre, because 1
am about to use a language different from that of prose.” The
evidence of Wordsworth is to the same effect; but as he is not
a great master of versification, as Coleridge is, his evidence
may be thought, perhaps, to be less valuable :—“It has been
shown that the language of Prose,” Wordsworth says in the
Preface to the Second Edition of his Poems (including Lyrical
Ballads), “may yet be well adapted to Poetry; and it was pre-
viously asserted that a large portion of the language of every
good poem can in no respect differ from that of good Prose.
We will go farther. It may be safely affirmed that there
neither is, nor can be, any essential difference between the
language of Prose and metrical composition. . . . I here use
the word ‘Poetry’ (though against my own judgment) as
opposed to the word Prose, and synonymous with metrical com-
position. But much confusion has been introduced into criticism
by this contradistinction of Poetry and Prose, instead of the
more philosophical one of Poetry and Matter of Fact, or Science.
The only strict antithesis to Prose is Metre; nor is this, in
truth, a strict antithesis, because lines and passages of metre so
naturally occur in writing prose, that it would be scarcely
possible to avoid them, even were it desirable.” If this
evidence, as coming from one who is no great master of versi-
fication, be thought lightly of, it ought, on the other hand, to
be remembered that Wordsworth is Coleridge’s peer in power
of rousing Transcendental Feeling, and exercises this power
often through the medium of studiously prosaic diction. His
Poetry, therefore, is evidence, apart altogether from his critical
opinion just quoted, in favour at least of the view that full
poetic effect can be produced where the diction is hardly dis-
tinguishable from that of prose.
The view maintained by Coleridge and Wordsworth” is
not, it would seem, orthodox. Recent critics of Poetry are
1 Coleridge, o.c. ch. xviii.
2 And Shelley, A Defence of Poctry: ‘‘The distinction between poets and
prose writers is a vulgar error.”
THE "ΗΑ MYTH 391
generally in favour of the view that metrical form is an
essential condition of the existence of “ Poetry.” ὦ
Now, the difference between a great poet himself and
critics of the ars poetica who are not, and do not pretend to
be, great poets, or even poets at all, appears to me to be worth
defining ; and I venture to define it as follows :-—
A great poet, like Wordsworth or Coleridge, is so intent
upon the End of Poetry that he uses the means with little
thought of what they happen to be in themselves. Critics of
Poetry, on the other hand, even when they are endowed with
personal feeling for the End of Poetry, are apt, as critics, to
take that End for granted, and devote their attention exclu-
sively to the very interesting subject of the means whereby it
is achieved. They assume that, of course, a great poet pro-
duces “poetic effect”; but not cherishing that effect as a
personal experience to be received with undiminished wonder
and joy whenever they read his poetry, they are apt, in their
capacity of critics, to lose clear sight of it, and then to mistake
for part of it something entirely distinct from it—the mere
aesthetic effect produced by the melody and rhythm un-
doubtedly present in most cases where there is Poetry. This
mistake, I venture to think, lurks in the following definition
of “ Poetry,” which may be taken as expressing the view of a
large, and in some respects, meritorious class of critics—-those
who are impressed by the “ necessity of considering literature
as material of science ” :—“ Poetry is literature, usually of a
high degree of Human Interest, which, in addition to its
Human Interest, has in it an added Aesthetic Interest,” 1.6.
appeals to “an aesthetic sense of rhythm.”* Here it may be
that “heagh Human Interest”—though said to be only
“usually” present—stands for the End of Poetry as Words-
worth and Coleridge understand it; but the attainment of
this end is made entirely dependent on successful appeal to
? A collection of opinions on this subject, I should think pretty nearly com-
plete, and certainly somewhat embarrassiug by reason of the often very minute
differences recorded, will be found in Professor Gummere’s work, The Beginnings
of Poetry (1901); see also Professor Butcher’s Aristotle's Theory of Poetry and
Fine Art, pp. 143-147, and Mr. Adam’s‘note on Republic, 601 8B, 9. Plato and
Aristotle both make μῦθος the essential thing in Poetry: μέτρον is ancillary: see
Phaedo, 61 8, and Poet. 1451 b 29, quoted by Mr. Adam.
2 An Introduction to the Scientific Study of English Poetry, by Mark H.
Liddell (1902), pp. 72 and 65. See also Gummere, o.c. ch. ii., ‘‘ Rhythm as the
Essential Fact of Poetry.”
392 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
the aesthetic sense of rhythm—metrical form is made absolutely
necessary to the exercise of the essential function of Poetry.
Indeed, so vital is the connection between “metre” and
“poetry” conceived to be, that we are asked to regard the
rhythmic structure of the diction as only the outer form of a
“rhythmic structure of ideation”: there can be no Poetry
where there is not only a rhythmic structure of diction, but a
rhythmic structure of ideation."
While maintaining that not only is “Verse Form
Interest” "—successful appeal to the aesthetic sense of rhythm
—no part of the true poetic effect, but that metrical form is
not essential, even as means, to the production of true poetic
effect, I, of course, am ready to admit that, when metrical
form is absent, poetic effect is produced with greater difficulty
than when that form is present; for the appeal made to the
Self of the dream-consciousness is so much the weaker as
being made solely through dream-scenery, without the aid of
the nascent emotion accompanying the suggested Song and
Dance. But dream-scenery suggested by the plainest prose is
often, I submit, enough, by itself, to make the malzew in which
it is possible to experience the true poetic effect. This could
be illustrated abundantly from the Icelandic Sagas. On the
other hand, it is often the case that the destruction of the
metrical form, dream-scenery being left untouched, destroys
that miliew: of this Plato gives us an amusing example in
Republic, 393 καὶ ff, where liad, i. 17 ff., is turned into prose ;
and, as Professor Gummere asks,” “ What would be left in prose,
any prose, of Goethe’s Ueber allen Gipfeln ist Ruh’?” Nothing
of that particular poem certainly, the original diction of which
is metrical. But, I submit, there are poems the original
diction of which is not metrical. Because a poem, originally
composed in metrical form, is spoilt as a poem by translation
into prose, it does not follow that “prose” is impossible as the
original form in which a poem may be composed. “ There is no
valid test for the historian save this test of rhythm,” says Pro-
fessor Gummere.* It is a rough test—convenient, I dare say,
for the purpose of the historian ; but the philosophical student
cannot accept it as having any value for his own purpose.
1 Liddell, o.c. p. 145. 2 0.c p. 74.
3 6,6. p. 49. 4 0.6. pp. 49, 50.
THE PHARDRUS MYTH 393
I would class metrical form, then, along with interesting
story and skilful word-painting, as a part—an important, but
not absolutely necessary part—-of the méiliew in which the
genius of the Poet finds it possible to produce poetic effect in
his patient; that effect itself, of course, being something
essentially distinct from the interest felt in the story, from
the specific emotions roused by its incidents and scenery, or
from the πάθος caused (it may be, first of all in the vocal
chords') by the rhythm and melody of the words, whether
spoken or unspoken. In the miliew of imagery and emotion
produced by the Poet’s story or description, especially when it
is couched in melodious language,” the Poet’s patient is ready
to experience, when the “ psychological moment” arrives, that
sudden flash of Transcendental Feeling in which, I contend,
the essence of poetical effect consists.
I venture to think that the exaggerated importance attached
to metrical form, regarded as an essential condition of poetic
effect, has been responsible for the comparatively scanty atten-
tion paid by recent writers on the nature of Poetry to the
immensely important part played by Representation, simply
as Representation, in the creation of what I have called the
poetic mziew, to distinguish it from poetic effect. The Greek
identification of ποίησις with μίμησις seems to me to have
the root of the matter in it, if we understand by μίμησις the
production of the poetic milieu, and take κάθαρσις (as it appears
in Aristotle’s Poetics) to stand for the poetic effect—the fiash
of Transcendental Feeling in that milieu.
The Poetic malieu, as I have argued throughout this work,
is a state of dream-consciousness—not, indeed, shut off, as in
sleep, from the waking state, but concurrent with, or inserted
into, it. As we read or listen to Poetry we are in a day-
dream. We are, indeed, aware of the “real things” of this
world round about us; and yet we are in another world, not
of “real things,” but of representations, imitations, pictures,
1 “T believe that with careful self-observation many men ‘with an ear for
verse’ will recognise that the essential part of poetic excitation has lain in scarcely
perceptible changes of tension in the muscles of the throat” (Myers, Human Per-
sonality, i. 102). I confess that it is with much astonishment that I find Myers
among those who make the sense of nascent melodious speech in the vocal chords
the essential condition of experiencing poetic effect.
2 Mr. W. B. Yeats in his book, The Idea of Good and Evil, p. 16, propounds
the charming idea of ‘‘ poems spoken to a harp.”
394 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
reflections. These reflections resemble the “real things ”—
and yet, they are quite different from them—as different as
the upside-down trees in the pool of water are different from
the real trees of which they are reflections. The reflections
of Poetry, like those of the pool, are in another world. What
do they mean? ‘They are more beautiful than the “real
things” of this world. The “real things” therefore cannot
account for them. ‘They are copies surely of “ eternal things”
existing somewhere. Where? Such is the reasoning, and
such is the final ἀπορία, or impasse, of the dream-consciousness
which the Poet can induce in his patient simply by means of
Representation. Sometimes the patient does not get beyond
the ἀπορία or impasse; sometimes—and this is to experience
the true poetic effect—the impasse is opened for a moment,
the ἀπορία is solved in a swift act of intuition—too swift,
alas! for the truth revealed to be retained in the memory :
Vedela tal, che, quando il mi ridice,
Io non lo intendo, si parla sottile
Al cor dolente, che lo fa parlare.?
I have spoken of objects reflected in a pool of water. The
feeling which such reflections cause is, I think, very nearly
akin to that which poetic μίμησις causes. The phantasms of
real things in water, in painting, in word-painting, lend
themselves to the feeling that there is “another world.”
They are seen in a strange light and atmosphere, and, as we
look at them, the world of waking experience recedes, and
we pass into dreamland—as we do sometimes on a still
autumn evening when we see familiar houses and trees
silhouetted against the pure sky, like things in a picture
which we now look at for the first time with wonder and
eerie surmise.
Shelley’s rendering of the feeling produced by reflections in
water is worth careful consideration as a great poet’s record
of an experience which is closely related to, if not identical
with, that produced by poetical “Imitation,” or “ Repre-
sentation.” I close this section by quoting his lines? as an
answer—not the less valuable because not intended by the
1 Vita Nuova, Sonetto xxv.
2 The Recollection.
THE PHAEDRUS MYTH 395
poet himself to be an answer—to the question, What is the
end of Poetry, and how does Imitation subserve that end ἢ
We paused beside the pools that lie
Under the forest bough,
Each seemed as ’twere a little sky
Gulfed in a world below ;
A firmament of purple light,
Which in the dark earth lay,
More boundless than the depth of night,
And purer than the day—
In which the lovely forests grew,
As in the upper air,
More perfect both in shape and hue
Than any spreading there.
There lay the glade and neighbouring lawn,
And through the dark-green wood
The white sun twinkling like the dawn
Out of a speckled cloud.
Sweet views which in our world above
Can never well be seen,
Were imaged by the water’s love
Of that fair forest green.
And all was interfused beneath
With an Elysian glow,
An atmosphere without a breath,
A softer day below.
ΡῚ ὅγὺν ay] =
ἂν "Δ΄ 1.
»!
τ. ~
Μ"'
ΣᾺ |
i¢ ᾿
᾿ _— ᾿ ᾿
"ἃς " a
THE TWO SYMPOSIUM MYTHS
CONTEXT
THE subject of the Symposium, like that of its companion
Dialogue, the Phaedrus, is Love.
The subject is treated, from various points of view, in
speeches made, in succession, by those present at a Banquet
in the house of Agathon the tragedian—by Phaedrus, by
Pausanias, by Eryximachus, by Aristophanes, by Agathon
himself, by Socrates reporting the Discourse of Diotima the
Woman of Mantinea, and lastly by Alcibiades.
Two of these speeches—that of Aristophanes, and that of
DMotima, reported by Socrates—are Myths.
397
1896
398 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Symposium 189 c—193 D.
. \ rn ΝΜ \ a
Eyol yap δοκοῦσιν ἄνθρωποι παντάπασι τὴν τοῦ ἔρωτος
͵ > ? a > \ ᾽ / / ’ A
δύναμιν οὐκ ἠσθῆσθαι, ἐπεὶ αἰσθανομενοί ye μέγιστ ἂν
r e \ , \ \ a
αὐτοῦ ἱερὰ κατασκευάσαι καὶ βωμοὺς καὶ θυσίας ἂν ποιεῖν
/ “ lal / ,
μεγίστας, οὐχ ὥσπερ νῦν τούτων οὐδὲν γίγνεται περὶ αὐτόν,
Ὁ δέον πάντων μάλιστα γίγνεσθαι. ἔστι γὰρ θεῶν φιλανθρω-
190
/ / / “
πότατος, ἐπίκουρός τε ὧν τῶν ἀνθρώπων καὶ ἰατρὸς τούτων,
> 4 θέ , ὧν , A A > 6 , ,
ὧν ἰαθέντων μεγίστη εὐδαιμονία ἂν τῷ ἀνθρωπείῳ γένει
\ 9 / nr /
εἴη. ἐγὼ οὖν πειράσομαι ὑμῖν εἰσηγήσασθαι τὴν δύναμιν
αὐτοῦ, ὑμεῖς δὲ τῶν ἄλλων διδάσκαλοι ἔσεσθε. δεῖ δὲ
-“ ς an a \ > / / \ \ ,
πρῶτον ὑμᾶς μαθεῖν THY ἀνθρωπίνην φύσιν καὶ τὰ παθήματα
» rn «ς \ / ἡ “ / > cf 9 “ ἴω
αὐτῆς. “H yap πάλαι ἡμῶν φύσις οὐχ αὕτη ἦν ἥπερ νῦν,
, - Ν / a
ἀλλ᾽ ἀλλοία. πρῶτον μὲν yap τρία ἣν τὰ γένη τὰ τῶν
“ a / ” \ /
ἀνθρώπων, οὐχ ὥσπερ νῦν δύο, ἄρρεν καὶ θήλυ, ἀλλὰ καὶ
“ \ x / 4 a
τρίτον προσῆν κοινὸν ὃν ἀμφοτέρων τούτων, οὗ νῦν ὄνομα
λουπό ὑτὸ δὲ ἠφάνισται' ἀνδρόγυνον γὰρ ἕν τό ὲν ἢ
ouTrov, αὐτὸ δὲ ἠφάνιστ, avopoy yap ἕν τότε μὲν ἣν
\ 3 \ ” > > / \ fa Μ
καὶ εἶδος καὶ ὄνομα ἐξ ἀμφοτέρων κοινὸν τοῦ τε ἄρρενος
lal > 2 es > /
καὶ θήλεος, νῦν δ᾽ οὐκ ἔστιν adr ἢ ἐν ὀνείδει ὄνομα κεί-
” e/ 9S ς / lal > 0 / \ 3
μενον. ἔπειτα ὅλον ἦν ἑκάστου τοῦ ἀνθρώπου τὸ εἶδος
, la \ \ / 4 a \
στρογγύλον, νῶτον Kal πλευρὰς κύκλῳ ἔχον. χεῖρας δὲ
\ a / \ /
τέτταρας εἶχε, Kal σκέλη τὰ ἴσα ταῖς χερσί, καὶ πρόσωπα
7 ἃ ὧν > 7] a Ὁ / \ ’ a
δύο ἐπ αὐχένι κυκλοτερεῖ, ὁμοια πάντῃ" κεφαλὴν δ᾽ ἐπ
a / / /
ἀμφοτέροις τοῖς προσώποις ἐναντίοις κειμένοις μίαν, καὶ
= / \ 3 a / \ 2 7 ς δ᾽. “Ἂν
ὦτα τέτταρα, καὶ αἰδοῖα δύο, καὶ τἄλλα πάντα ὡς ἀπὸ
/ » > / > / \ \ ᾽ \ “
τούτων ἄν τις εἰκάσειεν. ἐπορεύετο δὲ καὶ ὀρθὸν ὥσπερ
- ΄ , / \ e / \ « 7 Cal
νῦν, ὁποτέρωσε βουληθείη: καὶ ὁπότε ταχὺ ὁρμήσειε θεῖν,
“ ς A > > \ \ , ,
ὥσπερ οἱ κυβιστῶντες εἰς ὀρθὸν τὰ σκέλη περιφερόμενοι
" 7 » \ / i) a / > /
κυβιστῶσι κύκλῳ, ὀκτὼ τότε οὖσι τοῖς μέλεσιν ἀπερειδόμενοι
\ lol
ταχὺ ἐφέροντο κύκλῳ. ἣν δὲ διὰ ταῦτα τρία τὰ γένη καὶ
“ Ν ‘ a / \ ᾽ \ ¥
τοιαῦτα, OTL TO μὲν ἄρρεν ἣν τοῦ ἡλίου THY ἀρχὴν ἔκγονον,
fal rn a / / fol /
τὸ δὲ θῆλυ τῆς γῆς, TO δὲ ἀμφοτέρων μετέχον τῆς σελήνης,
, , a \ Πα
ὅτι καὶ ἡ σελήνη ἀμφοτέρων μετέχει. περιφερῆ δὲ δὴ ἦν
΄ “Ὁ \ “ “Ὁ “
καὶ αὐτὰ καὶ ἡ πορεία αὐτῶν διὰ τὸ τοῖς γονεῦσιν ὅμοια
THE TWO SYMPOSIUM MYTHS 399
TRANSLATION OF THE ΜΥΤῊ TOLD BY ARISTOPHANES
Men, methinks, have altogether failed of apprehending the
power of Love; for had they apprehended it, for him would
they have builded the greatest temples and the greatest
altars, and unto him would bring the greatest burnt offerings ;
whereas now no such honours are paid unto him—honours
meet for him above all other gods; for he is that one of them
all who loveth men most; he is the helper of mankind, and
our physician where healing bringeth the greatest happiness.
I will therefore endeavour to instruct you in his power; and
you shall teach others.
First must be told what Human Nature is, and what are
the affections thereof.
Human Nature was not originally what it now is, but
different; for, in the first place, there were three genders of
mankind,—not as now, two—male and female, but a third in
addition thereto—a common gender composite of the two.
This gender itself is clean gone, and only the name thereof
remaineth, Man-Woman, as a name of reproach. Secondly,
the whole form of every human creature was round, whereof
the back and sides made one circumference; and it had four
hands, and likewise four legs; and two faces, altogether
similar to each other, upon a round neck; and on the top
of these faces, which were set opposite to each other, one
head; and four ears; and there were two privy members;
and all the other parts after the same manner; and these
people walked upright, as men do now, whithersoever they
would; and also, when they desired to go quickly, they
rolled quickly round, pushing off with their eight lmbs,
like tumblers who tumble over and over with their legs going
round in the air.
Now the genders were three, and of this sort, because the
male gender was in the beginning sprung from the Sun, and
the female gender from the Earth, and that which partook of
both from the Moon—for the Moon partaketh of both Sun
and Earth: so it came to pass that they themselves and their
manner of progression were circular after the likeness of
400 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
εἶναι. ἣν οὖν τὴν ἰσχὺν δεινὰ Kal τὴν ῥώμην, καὶ τὰ
φρονήματα μεγάλα εἶχον, ἐπεχείρησαν δὲ τοῖς θεοῖς, καὶ
or
λέγει Ὅμηρος περὶ ᾿Εφιάλτονυ τε καὶ "Ὥτου, περὶ ἐκείνων
/ \ >’ \ > \ > / » nan al ec
C λέγεται, TO εἰς τὸν οὐρανὸν ἀνάβασιν ἐπιχειρεῖν ποίειν, ὡς
191
> / - al
ἐπιθησομένων τοῖς θεοῖς.
ς / ty \
O οὖν Ζεὺς καὶ of ἄλλοι θεοὶ ἐβουλεύοντο, 6 TL χρὴ
fal / 7
αὐτοὺς ποιῆσαι, καὶ ἠπόρουν: οὔτε γὰρ ὅπως ἀποκτείναιεν
e 7, Ν /
εἶχον Kal ὥσπερ τοὺς γίγαντας κεραυνώσαντες TO γένος
> , e \ \ > a \ e \ \ \ n
ἀφανίσαιεν--- αἱ τιμαὶ yap αὐτοῖς Kal ἱερὰ τὰ Tapa τῶν
ἀνθρώπων ἠφανίζετο---οὔθ᾽ ὅπως ἐῴεν ἀσελγαίνειν oye
ρώπων ἢ ς ἐφ γαίνειν. μόγις
e / / e la » y
δὴ ὁ Ζεὺς ἐννοήσας λέγει, ὅτε Δοκῶ μοι, ἔφη, ἔχειν
/ ς Xx 27 ” \ / A
μηχανήν, ὡς ἂν elev τε ἄνθρωποι Kai παύσαιντο τῆς
> / > / / a \ \ > Ad
ἀκολασίας ἀσθενέστεροι yevomevot. νῦν μὲν yap αὐτούς,
» “ / Ψ \ Ὁ \ > /
ἔφη, διατεμῶ δίχα ἕκαστον, καὶ ἅμα μὲν ἀσθενέστεροι
» Ὁ \ , Ἐν \ \ / \
ἔσονται, ἅμα δὲ χρησιμώτεροι ἡμῖν διὰ τὸ πλείους τὸν
ἀριθμὸν γεγονέναι" καὶ βαδιοῦνται ὀρθοὶ ἐπὶ δυοῖν σκελοῖν.
Αἵ > ” “ > 7 Ν \ 24 ς /
ἐὰν δ᾽ ἔτι δοκῶσιν ἀσελγαίνειν καὶ μὴ ἐθέλωσιν ἡσυχίαν
” / 5 7 a / A 3) ADA? re /
ἄγειν, πάλιν ad, ἔφη, τεμῶ δίχα, ὥστ᾽ ἐφ᾽ ἑνὸς πορεύσονται
/ > / a) ᾿] \ ” \ > /
σκέλους ἀσκωλίζοντες. Ταῦτα εἰπὼν ἔτεμνε τοὺς ἀνθρώπους
/ ef e \ ” / \ / /
δίχα, ὥσπερ οἱ τὰ ὄα τέμνοντες καὶ μέλλοντες ταριχεύειν,
nN 4 e \ > \ a / “ Ν / \
ἢ ὥσπερ of Ta ὠὰ ταῖς θριξίν. ὅντινα δὲ τέμοι, τὸν
; U / / le)
Ἀπόλλω ἐκέλευε TO TE πρόσωπον μεταστρέφειν Kal TO TOU
\ \ / Ὡ“ , an
αὐχένος ἥμισυ πρὸς τὴν τομήν, wa θεώμενος τὴν αὑτοῦ
A , " e A \ 5 5.
τμῆσιν κοσμιώτερος εἴη ὁ ἄνθρωπος, καὶ τἄλλα ἰᾶσθαι
oS: ff e \ / / / \ /
ἐκέλευεν. ὁ δὲ TO TE πρόσωπον μετέστρεφε, καὶ συνέλκων
/ \ / BS \ / a -
πανταχόθεν τὸ δέρμα ἐπὶ THY γαστέρα viv καλουμένην,
a \ / / ἃ / a > y
ὥσπερ Ta σύσπαστα βαλάντια, ἕν στόμα ποιῶν ἀπέδει
\ , \ / 4 \ \ > \ A \
κατὰ μέσην τὴν γαστέρα, ὃ δὴ τὸν ὀμφαλὸν καλοῦσι. καὶ
᾽ \ \
Tas μὲν ἄλλας ῥυτίδας τὰς πολλὰς ἐξελέαινε καὶ τὰ στήθη
a /
SunpOpov, ἔχων τι τοιοῦτον ὄργανον, οἷον οἱ σκυτοτόμοι,
\ ‘ / / “ A € /
περὶ τὸν καλόποδα λεαίνοντες τὰς τῶν σκυτῶν ῥυτίδας"
᾽ / \ / \ \ > \ \ / \ \
ὀλίγας δὲ κατέλιπε, τὰς περὶ αὐτὴν THY γαστέρα Kal τὸν
ὀμφαλόν, μνημεῖον εἶναι τοῦ παλαιοῦ πάθους. ἐπειδὴ οὖν
THE TWO SYMPOSTUM MYTHS 401
their parents: and they were terrible by reason of their
strength and valour; and their hearts were proud, and they
made assault upon the Gods; for that which Homer telleth
concerning Kphialtes and Otus is told concerning them—that
they essayed to go up into Heaven for to lay hands on the
rods.
Wherefore Zeus and the other Gods took counsel what
they should do, and were in doubt; for they were not
minded to slay them, as they slew the giants, with thunder-
bolts, and to make men to cease utterly from the Earth, for
then would the worship and the sacrifices which men render
unto the Gods also cease; nor were they minded to let them
go on in their iniquities. At last after a long while Zeus
bethought him of this that followeth, and said: “I have
found out a way, methinks, of keeping men alive, and yet
making them weaker, so that they shall cease from their
wickedness: I will cut each one of them in twain; and so
shall they be made weaker, and also more serviceable for us,
having been increased in number; and they shall walk
upright on two legs; and if I see them again behaving
themselves frowardly and not willing to live peaceably, 1
will cut them yet again in twain,” he said, “so that they shall
go hopping on one leg.”
Having spoken thus, he straightway began to cut men in
twain, as one cutteth apples for pickling, or eggs with hairs;
and each one whom he cut in twain he delivered unto Apollo,
and commanded him to turn round the face and half of the
neck towards the cut, so that the fellow, beholding it, might
behave himself more seemly ; likewise the other parts did he
command Apollo to dress: and Apollo turned the face round,
and pulled the skin together from all parts over that which
is now called the belly, even as one draweth together a purse,
and the one opening which was left he closed and made fast
in the middle of the belly—this is that which they now call
the navel; and smoothing out all the other wrinkles every-
where, he fashioned the breasts with an instrument like unto
that wherewith cobblers smooth out the wrinkles of the
leather round the last ; but he left a few wrinkles about the
belly itself and the navel, to be for a memorial of that which
had been done of old.
2D
402 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
c / , > / rn “ \ e \ ς -“
ἡ φύσις δίχα ἐτμήθη, ποθοῦν ἕκαστον τὸ ἥμισυ τὸ αὑτοῦ
, ΄, \ A ,
Evyner, καὶ περιβάλλοντες τὰς χεῖρας καὶ συμπλεκόμενοι
> / > “ a 3 / e \ a
ἀλλήλοις, ἐπιθυμοῦντες συμφῦναι, ἀπέθνησκον ὑπὸ τοῦ
- an / / \ Ν /
Β λιμοῦ Kal τῆς ἄλλης ἀργίας διὰ TO μηδὲν ἐθέλειν χωρὶς
᾽ an « / a
ἀλλήλων ποιεῖν. Kal ὁπότε TL ἀποθάνοι τῶν ἡμίσεων, TO
\ »
δὲ λειφθείη, TO λειφθὲν ἄλλο ἐζήτει καὶ συνεπλέκετο, εἴτε
a / / / a \ a “ nr
γυναικὸς τῆς ὅλης ἐντύχοι ἡμίσει, ὃ δὴ νῦν γυναῖκα καλοῦ-
ΝΜ..." > / \ ο > / / \ «
μεν, εἴτ᾽ ἀνδρός: καὶ οὕτως ἀπώλλυντο. ἐλεήσας δὲ ὁ
\ » \ / \ 7 lal
Ζεὺς ἄλλην μηχανὴν πορίζεται, καὶ μετατίθησιν αὐτῶν τὰ
a / / fal \
αἰδοῖα εἰς TO πρόσθεν: τέως yap Kal ταῦτα ἐκτὸς εἶχον,
\ ae 4 \ 7 > > ’ / > > > a
C καὶ ἐγέννων καὶ ETLKTOV οὐκ εἰς ἀλλήλους, GAN εἰς γῆν,
“ / Ζ 5 ¢ nm \
ὥσπερ οἱ τέττιγες. μετέθηκέ τε οὖν οὕτως αὐτῶν εἰς TO
/ \ \ / \ / 2 2 / 2 7
πρόσθεν καὶ διὰ τούτων τὴν γένεσιν ἐν ἀλλήλοις ἐποίησε,
lal a / lal f “Ὁ
διὰ τοῦ ἄρρενος ἐν τῷ θήλει, τῶνδε ἕνεκα, ἵνα ἐν τῇ
“Ὁ « \ > ᾽ \ \ > / “A \
συμπλοκῇ ἅμα μὲν εἰ ἀνὴρ γυναικὶ ἐντύχοι, γεννῷεν καὶ
/ \ / e > » / \
γίγνοιτο τὸ γένος, ἅμα δ᾽ εἰ καὶ ἄρρεν ἄρρενι, πλησμονὴ
ἴω a / /
γοῦν γίγνοιτο τῆς συνουσίας καὶ διαπαύοιντο καὶ ἐπὶ τὰ
» / \ fal 7 / > na ” \
ἔργα τρέποιντο καὶ τοῦ ἄλλου βίου ἐπιμελοῖντο. "ἔστι δὴ
Φ > / ε 4 4 > / - > , \
Dow ἐκ τόσου ὁ ἔρως ἔμφυτος ἀλλήλων τοῖς ἀνθρώποις Kal
lal / \ an a ἃ
τῆς ἀρχαίας φύσεως συναγωγεὺς καὶ ἐπιχειρῶν ποιῆσαι ν
“ \ / \ /
ἐκ δυοῖν καὶ ἰάσασθαι τὴν φύσιν τὴν ἀνθρωπίνην.
“ 5 ς a > > /, / [τ
ἕκαστος οὖν ἡμῶν ἐστιν ἀνθρώπου ξύμβολον, ἅτε
/ “ ς fol ᾽ “." / Lal \ > Ἃ
τετμημένος ὥσπερ αἱ ψῆτται, ἐξ ἑνὸς δύο. ζητεῖ δὴ ἀεὶ
\ ς ἴω “ / Ὁ“ Ν S lal > “-
τὸ αὑτοῦ ἕκαστος ξύμβολον. ὅσοι μὲν οὖν τῶν ἀνδρῶν
a cr a \ / / -
τοῦ κοινοῦ τμῆμά εἰσιν, ὃ δὴ τότε ἀνδρόγυνον ἐκαλεῖτο,
/ / > \ e lal lal / -“
φιλογύναικές T εἰσὶ καὶ οἱ πολλοὶ τῶν μοιχῶν ἐκ τούτου τοῦ
/ ld s an / /
Ἑ γένους γεγόνασι, καὶ ὅσαι ad γυναῖκες φίλανδροί τε καὶ
4 / “ / / ¢ an
μοιχεύτριαι, ἐκ τούτου τοῦ γένους γίγνονται. ὅσαι δὲ τῶν
»" \ Qn e nr
γυναικῶν γυναικὸς τμῆμά εἰσιν, οὐ πάνυ αὗται τοῖς ἀνδράσι
lt / a \ a
τὸν νοῦν προσέχουσιν, ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον πρὸς Tas γυναῖκας
e / a /
τετραμμέναι εἰσί, Kal al ἑταιρίστριαι ἐκ τούτου τοῦ γένους
΄ / ‘ol »
γίγνονται. ὅσοι δὲ ἄρρενος τμῆμά εἰσι, τὰ ἄρρενα διώκουσι,
καὶ τέως μὲν ἂν παῖδες wow, ἅτε τεμάχια ὄντα τοῦ
rn ᾿ /
ἄρρενος, φιλοῦσι τοὺς ἄνδρας καὶ χαίρουσι συγκατακείμενοι
/ - /
192) Kal συμπεπλεγμένοι τοῖς ἀνδράσι, καί εἰσιν οὗτοι βέλτιστοι
r ,ὔ ef / 4
τῶν παίδων Kal μειρακίων, ἅτε ἀνδρειότατοι ὄντες φύσει.
\ /
φασὶ δὲ δή τινες αὐτοὺς ἀναισχύντους εἶναι, ψευδόμενοι"
THE TWO SYMPOSTUM MYTHS 403
Now when the original creature was cut in twain, the one
half, longing for the other half, went to meet it, and they
cast their arms around one another, and clung unto one another,
eagerly desiring to be made one creature; and they began to
die for lack of food and of all other things that a man must
provide for himself; for neither would eat aught save together
with the other: and when one of the halves died, and the
other was left, that which was left went about seeking for
another half, and when it happened upon the half of that
which aforetime was a woman—this half we now call woman
—or upon the half of that which was a man, joined itself
unto it: and thus did they perish. Then Zeus had compas-
sion upon them, and brought forth a new device :—He brought
their privy parts round to the front—for before that time
their privy parts were set in the outerpart of their bodies,
and they had not intercourse one with another, but with the
earth, as grasshoppers. So he changed them and caused them
to have intercourse one with another, to the end that, if a
man happened upon a woman, there might be propagation,
and if male happened upon male, there might be satisfaction,
and then an end made of it, both turning to other things and
minding them. Of such oldness is the love of one another
implanted in us, which bringeth us again into the primitive
state, and endeavoureth of two to make one and to heal the
division of Human Nature. Every human creature, then, is
a counterpart, being a half cut flat like unto a flounder, and
alway seeketh his own counterpart.
They who are the halves of that composite nature which
was then called Man-Woman are the kind whereof the most
part of adulterers are; and of this sort likewise are women
which lust for men and are adulteresses. But those women
who are halves of the whole which was Woman take little
heed of men, but rather turn them to companionship with
women; and those males which are halves of the whole
which was male, go after the male: while they are boys,
inasmuch as they are slices of the male, they love men and
take pleasure in companionship with men; these be of all
boys and youths the best, inasmuch as they are by nature the
most manly: some, indeed, say that they are without shame ;
but herein they speak falsely; for it is not by reason of
404 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
> \ e ,’ > / lal a ? , ΄ \ ,
οὐ yap ὑπ᾽ ἀναισχυντίας τοῦτο δρῶσιν, ἀλλ᾽ ὑπὸ θάρρους
\ > Γι \ > ,ὔ Ν “ ς a ’ /
καὶ ἀνδρείας Kal ἀρρενωπίας, TO ὅμοιον αὑτοῖς ἀσπαζόμενοι.
7 \ / \ \ / / > ,
μέγα δὲ τεκμήριον: Kal yap τελεωθέντες μόνοι ἀποβαίνουσιν
\ / e lal \ \ ΄
εἰς τὰ πολιτικὰ ἄνδρες οἱ τοιοῦτοι. ἐπειδὰν δὲ ἀνδρωθῶσι,
ral \ \ 7 4 /
Β παιδεραστοῦσι Kal πρὸς γάμους Kal παιδοποιίας οὐ προσ-
/ \ lal 4 > \ ¢€ \ “ / > /
ἔχουσι Tov νοῦν φύσει, ἀλλὰ ὑπο τοῦ νόμου ἀναγκάζονται"
’ nan > n > / nm > /
ἀλλ᾽ ἐξαρκεῖ αὐτοῖς pet ἀλλήλων καταζῆν ἀγάμοις. πάν-
\ ς a / \ \
τως μὲν οὖν ὁ τοιοῦτος παιδεραστῆς τε Kal φιλεραστὴς
/ > eee. \ \ > / Ὁ \ 9S \
γίγνεται, ἀεὶ TO Evuyyeves ἀσπαζόμενος. ὅταν μὲν οὖν καὶ
A , 4 “a a / \ e \ \
αὐτῷ ἐκείνῳ ἐντύχῃ τῷ αὑτοῦ ἡμίσει καὶ ὁ παιδεραστὴς Kal
Μ “ / ἝἜ \ /
CadXos πᾶς, τότε Kat θαυμαστὰ ἐκπλήττονται φιλίᾳ TE καὶ
> / \ »” > > / " »” > lal /
οἰκειότητι καὶ ἔρωτι, οὐκ ἐθέλοντες, ὡς ἔπος εἰπεῖν, χωρίζε-
/ \ \ / \ x fal
σθαι ἀλλήλων οὐδὲ σμικρὸν χρόνον. καὶ οἱ διατελοῦντες
> , \ / / > « > A , »"»
μετ᾽ ἀλλήλων διὰ βίου οὗτοί εἰσιν, οἱ οὐδ᾽ ἂν ἔχοιεν εἰπεῖν,
/ / > > / /
6 τι βούλονται σφίσι Tap ἀλλήλων γίγνεσθαι. οὐδὲ γὰρ
a , ney. th ς A > / / ε ”
ἂν δόξειε τοῦτ᾽ εἶναι ἡ τῶν ἀφροδισίων συνουσία, ὡς ἄρα
/ / Ψ ey / \ Ὁ ιν /
τούτου ἕνεκα ἕτερος ἑτέρῳ χαίρει ξυνὼν οὕτως ἐπὶ μεγάλης
lal ᾽ / / / \ 7
ἢ σπουδῆς: ἀλλ᾽ ἄλλο Tt βουλομένη ἑκατέρου ἡ ψυχὴ δήλη
> / A > / > “ > \ / ἃ /
ἐστίν, ὃ ov δύναται εἰπεῖν, ἀλλὰ μαντεύεται ὃ βούλεται
καὶ αἰνίττεται. καὶ εἰ αὐτοῖς ἐν τῷ αὐτῴ κατακειμένοις
cre , \ ΝΜ , /
ἐπιστὰς ὁ “Ἥφαιστος, ἔχων τὰ ὄργανα, ἔροιτο: “Ti ἔσθ᾽ ὃ
93 y oe a / 7 >
βούλεσθε, ὦ ἄνθρωποι, ὑμῖν παρ ἀλλήλων γενέσθαι ;” καὶ
>] >, ἴω > \ / ” cc? / wn
εἰ ἀποροῦντας αὐτοὺς πάλιν ἔροιτο" Apa γε τοῦδε
> a > lal > n / ῳ / ,’ ᾽ /
ἐπιθυμεῖτε, ἐν τῷ αὐτῷ γενέσθαι ὅ TL μάλιστ᾽ ἀλλήλοις,
σ / \ / \ > /
ὥστε Kal νύκτα Kal ἡμέραν μὴ ἀπολείπεσθαι ἀλλήλων ; εἰ
\ / 5] vad > , [ a fl \ -
E γὰρ τούτου ἐπιθυμεῖτε, ἐθέλω ὑμᾶς συντῆξαι καὶ συμφῦσαι
> > / σ Α͂ν δα “ / \ Ψ ἈΠ, ἃ
εἰς το αὐτό, ὥστε δύ᾽ ὄντας ἕνα γεγονέναι καὶ ἕως T ἂν
ε e ¢ bd “ > / nA \ > \
ζῆτε, ws ἕνα ὄντα, κοινῇ ἀμφοτέρους ζῆν, καὶ ἐπειδὰν
> ΄ > a 2 > “ \ ὃ > \ 5 “ od 3 “
ἀποθάνητε, ἐκεῖ αὖὗ ἐν “Διδου ἀντὶ δυεῖν ἕνα εἶναι κοινῇ
- > ᾽ δι σἂ ᾽ 7 3 δὰ ᾽ an ig a
τεθνεῶτε: ἀλλ᾽ ὁρᾶτε, εἰ τούτου ἐρᾶτε καὶ ἐξαρκεῖ ὑμῖν,
A ͵ / ” a > / ” 4 >O? A
ἂν τούτου TUynTe*” ταῦτα ἀκούσας ἴσμεν ὅτε οὐδ᾽ ἂν εἷς
> sy , / > be
ἐξαρνηθείη οὐδ᾽ ἄλλο τι ἂν φανείη βουλόμενος, ἀλλ ἀτεχνῶς
” > x > / a A , ” > , \
olor ἂν ἀκηκοέναι τοῦτο, ὃ πάλαι apa ἐπεθύμει, συνελθὼν
a / ’ lal / lal
καὶ συντακεὶς τῷ ἐρωμένῳ ἐκ δυεῖν els γενέσθαι. τοῦτο
THE TWO SYMPOSIUM MYTHS 405
shamelessness that they do this, but by reason of the courage
and manliness in them, which their countenance declareth.
Wherefore do they greet joyfully that which is lke unto
themselves: and that this 1 say concerning them is true, what
followeth after showeth ; for afterward when these are grown
up, they alone of all men advance to the conduct of politiques.
Now when these are grown up to be men, they make youths
their companions, and their nature inclineth them not to
wedlock and the begetting of children; only the law con-
straineth them thereto: for they are content to pass their
lives with one another unwedded, being lovers one of another,
and always greeting that nature which hath kinship with
their own. When, therefore, one of these happeneth upon
the very one who is his own other half, then are the two con-
founded with a mighty great amazement of friendship and kin-
ship and love, and will not-—nay, not for a moment—be parted
from each other. These be they who all their life through are
alway together, nor yet could tell what it is they wish to
obtain of each other —for surely it is not satisfaction of
sensual appetite that all this great endeavour is after: nay,
plainly, it is something other that the Soul of each wisheth—
something which she cannot tell, but, darkly divining, maketh
her end. And if Hephaestus came and stood by the two
with his tools in his hand, and asked of them saying, “ What
is it, O men, that ye wish to obtain of each other?” and when
they could not answer, asked of them again saying, “ Is it this
that ye desire—to be so united unto each other that neither
by night nor by day shall ye be parted from each other? If
it is this that ye desire, I will melt and fuse you together so
that, although ye are two, ye shall become one, and, as long
as ye live, shall both live one common life, and when ye die,
shall be one dead man yonder in Hades, instead of two dead
men: see now, if it be for this ye are lovers, and if the
getting of this is all your desire.” We know well that
there is none who would say nay unto this, or show a wish
for aught else; yea, rather, each one would think that this
which was now promised was the very thing which he
had alway, albeit unwittingly, desired—to be joined
unto the beloved, and to be melted together with him,
so that the twain should become one: the cause whereof
406 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
/ > \ Μ Ὁ ς > / e a 9 e \
yap ἐστι TO αἴτιον, OTL ἡ ἀρχαία φύσις ἡμῶν ἣν αὕτη καὶ
= - δ lal /
ἣμεν ὅλοι: τοῦ ὅλου οὖν TH ἐπιθυμίᾳ καὶ διώξει ἔρως
\ rn
193 ὄνομα. καὶ πρὸ τοῦ, ὥσπερ λέγω, ἕν ἦμεν: νυνὶ δὲ διὰ
\ / 7 a a 5
τὴν ἀδικίαν διῳκίσθημεν ὑπὸ τοῦ θεοῦ, καθάπερ ᾿Αρκάδες
ς Ν 7 / 9 ” 7\ \ / Ss
ὑπὸ Λακεδαιμονίων. φόβος οὖν ἔστιν, ἐὰν μὴ κόσμιοι ὧμεν
\ \ / ee \ \ 5 / δ
πρὸς τοὺς θεούς, ὅπως μὴ καὶ αὖθις διασχισθησόμεθα, καὶ
fa» Μ [4 e ? lal / \ \
περίϊμεν ἔχοντες ὥσπερ οἱ ἐν Tals στήλαις κατὰ γραφὴν
/ / \ -“ /
ἐκτετυπωμένοι SiaTreTpLTeVOL κατὰ τὰς ῥῖνας, γεγονότες
7 , \
ὥσπερ λίσπαι. ἀλλὰ τούτων ἕνεκα πάντ᾽ ἄνδρα χρὴ
Ψ ΄ ~ 7 \ \
Β ἅπαντα παρακελεύεσθαι εὐσεβεῖν περὶ θεούς, ἵνα τὰ μὲν
> / ἴω \ /, e ον ΄ nr ς \ \
ἐκφύγωμεν, τῶν δὲ τύχωμεν, ὧν ὁ ᾿Ἔρως ἡμῖν ἡγεμὼν καὶ
/ ἣν \ > / / / >> 4
στρατηγός. ᾧ μηδεὶς ἐναντία πραττέτω" πράττει δ᾽ ἐναντία
“ ΄ , / \
ὅστις θεοῖς ἀπεχθάνεται. φίλοι yap γενόμενοι καὶ διαλλα-
/ ‘el ae ne 7 / + wy / a ὃ a
γέντες τῴ θεῴ ἐξευρήσομέν τε καὶ ἐντευξόμεθα τοῖς παιδικοῖς
- / ‘al ἃ a fa) a \ /
τοῖς ἡμετέροις αὐτῶν, ὃ τῶν νῦν ὀλίγοι ποιοῦσι. Kal μή
᾽ ral / /
μοι ὑπολάβῃ Ἐρυξίμαχος κωμῳδῶν τὸν λόγον, ws Παυσανίαν
\ ’ / / ” \ \ \ Φ /
καὶ Αγάθωνα λέγω: ἴσως μὲν yap Kal οὗτοι τούτων
/ \ / /
Ο τυγχάνουσιν ὄντες Kai εἰσίν ἀμφότεροι τὴν φύσιν ἄρρενες,
΄ \ 5 4 Pe / \ > a \ a
λέγω δὲ οὖν ἔγωγε καθ᾽ ἁπάντων καὶ ἀνδρῶν καὶ γυναικῶν,
μή . x - an \ / ” / > > /
OTL οὕτως ἂν ἡμῶν TO γένος εὔδαιμον γένοιτο, εἰ ἐκτελέσαι-
\ “ lal al “ /
μεν τὸν ἔρωτα καὶ TOV παιδικῶν TOV αὑτοῦ ἕκαστος τύχοι
> \ > / > \ / > \ “ »Μ
εἰς τὴν ἀρχαίαν ἀπελθὼν φύσιν. εἰ δὲ τοῦτο ἄριστον,
- la lal / \ / ,
ἀναγκαῖον καὶ τῶν νῦν παρόντων τὸ τούτου ἐγγυτάτω
5 a ἀν. \ a a \ +
ἄριστον εἶναι. τοῦτο δ᾽ ἐστὶ παιδικῶν τυχεῖν κατὰ νοῦν
et a / \ \ A /
Ὁ αὑτῴ πεφυκότων. ov δὴ Tov αἴτιον θεὸν ὑμνοῦντες δικαίως
«
A ς a ΜᾺ Δ »Μ) an / c na a
ἂν ὑμνοῖμεν "ἔρωτα, ὃς ἔν τε τῷ παρόντι ἡμᾶς πλεῖστα
“7 > \ a » \ > \ » >», ὃ
ὀνίνησιν εἰς τὸ οἰκεῖον ἄγων, καὶ εἰς τὸ ἔπειτα ἐλπίδας
/ an / \ \ » /
μεγίστας παρέχεται, ἡμῶν παρεχομένων πρὸς θεοὺς εὐσέ-
/ nn \ / Ἀ , /
βειαν, καταστήσας ἡμᾶς εἰς τὴν ἀρχαίαν φύσιν Kal ἰασάμε.-
/ a
vos μακαρίους καὶ εὐδαίμονας ποιῆσαι.
THE TWO SYMPOSTUM MYTHS 407
is this, that our original nature was such that we were
One Whole.
Love, then, is the name of our desire and pursuit of the
Whole; and once, I say, we were one, but now for our
wickedness God hath made us to dwell separate, even as the
Arcadians who were made to dwell separate by the Lacedae-
monians; and even yet are we in danger, if we are not
obedient unto the Gods, to be again cut in twain, and made
to go about as mere tallies, in the figure of those images
which are graven in relief on tablets with their noses sawn
through into halves. Wherefore let our exhortation unto every
man be that he live in the fear of the gods, to the end that
we may escape this, and obtain that unto which Love our
Captain leadeth us. Him let no man withstand. Whoso is
at enmity with the gods withstandeth him; but if we are
become friends of God, and are reconciled unto him, then
shall we find and meet each one of us his own True Love,
which happeneth unto few in our time.
Now I pray Eryximachus not to break a jest upon my
discourse, as though Pausanias and Agathon were in my mind;
for peradventure they too are of those I speak of, and are
both by nature male: but, be that as it may, I speak con-
cerning all men and women, and say that the state of
mankind would become blessed if we all fulfilled our love,
and each one of us happened upon his own True Love, and
so returned unto his original nature.
If this is best of all, it followeth of necessity that that
which in our present life cometh nearest thereto is best—this
is that each one of us should find the love which is naturally
suitable to him; and the God we ought to praise for this
is Love, who both at this present time bestoweth on us the
greatest benefit, in that he leadeth us unto our own, and for
the time to come giveth us promise of that which is best,
if we render the observance to godward that is meet, to wit,
the promise that he will restore us to our original nature, and
heal us of our pain, and make us divinely blessed.
408 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON THE MYTH TOLD BY
ARISTOPHANES
The Myth told by Aristophanes in the Symposium! differs
from all other Platonic Myths in being conceived in a spirit,
and told in a manner, reminding one of Rabelais or Swift. It
explains the sentiment of love as due to the fact that ἕκαστος
ἡμῶν ἐστιν ἀνθρώπου σύμβολον *—every human being is a
tally: which came about in the following way :—Primitive
man was round, and had four hands and four feet, and one
head with two faces looking opposite ways. He could walk
on his legs if he liked, but he could also roll over and over
with great speed like a tumbler; which he did when he
wanted to go fast.’ There were three genders at that time,
corresponding to the Sun, the parent of the masculine gender,
to the Earth, the parent of the feminine gender, and to the
Moon, the parent of the common gender. These round people,
children of round parents, being very swift and strong, attacked
Zeus and the other gods. Instead of destroying prospective
worshippers with thunderbolts, Zeus adopted the plan of
doubling the number of the round people by cutting each one
of them in two. This not only doubled the number of his pro-
spective worshippers, but humbled them, for they had now to walk
on two legs and could not roll; and he threatened, if they gave
him any further trouble, to halve them again, and make them
merely bas-reliefs, and leave them to hop about on one leg.*
' 189 ἢ ff. = 191 'D.
3’ Mr A. Β. Cook (Zeus, Jupiter, and the Oak, in Class, Rev. July 1904, p. 326),
speaking of the Sicilian triske/es as a survival of the Cyclops as primitively con-
ceived,—i.e. conceived as (1) three-eyed, and (2) as a disc representing the solar
orb,—remarks that ‘‘ Plato was ΠΥ thinking of the Empedoclean οὐλοφυεῖς
. τύποι (251 K) when he spoke of Janiform beings with four arms and four
legs which enabled them to revolve κύκλῳ (Symp. 189 BE; οἵ, Tim. 44 D).”
* In Callaway’s Zulu Nursery Tales, i, 198-202, the story is told of a woman
who is carried away by one-legged people. When they first saw her they said :
‘**Oh, it would be a pretty thing—but, oh, the two legs!’ They said this
because she had two legs and two hands; for they are like as if an ox of the
white man is skinned and divided into two halves; the Amadhlungundhlebe
were like one side, there not being another side.” In a note ad doc. (p. 199)
Callaway refers to Pliny (H.N. vii. 2) for a nation of one-legged men—hominum
genus qui monocoli vocarentur, singulis cruribus, mirae pernicitatis ad saltum ;
and to Lane’s notes to the Introduction to the Arabian Nights, p. 33—‘‘ The
Shikk is another demoniacal creature, having the form of half a human being,
like a man divided longitudinally.”
THE TWO SYMPOSTUM ΜΥΤῊΒ 409
Now Love is the remembrance of the original undivided
state: it is the longing which one half has to be again united
to its other half, so that the original Whole may be restored :
every human being is a tally.
It is difficult to think of this story’ as a Platonic Myth
in the ordinary sense. Does it deduce any Category, or set
forth any Regulative Principle? If it does, it is only as a
satirical parody of the impressive Aetiological Myth. Love
is a mysterious principle, Plato seems to say; but here is a
Comic History of it which may help to make it less mysterious!
And yet, after all, does the circumstance that one Aetiologica]
Myth is comic, and another is serious and impressive, con-
stitute a real difference? We have to remember, with regard
to these comic or grotesque histories, that at one end of the
list of them there are some of the earliest attempts at Myth
or Story-telling made by the human race, and at the other
end, some of the most effective expressions of the scorn and
zeal and pity of civilised man. Zhe Life of Gargantua and
Pantagruel and Gulliver's Travels show us how the comic or
grotesque history, as well as the solemn Myth,—Myth of Er
or Purgatorio,—may set forth the Universal.
The place held in such a deeply religious system as the
Orphic by a savage grotesque like the story of Zagreus
enables us to understand how Plato—if only in a spirit of
parody—could insert a story like that of the round people in
a serious discussion of the nature of Love.
Zagreus” was the son of Zeus and Persephone, and his
father’s darling. But Hera was jealous, and incited the
Titans to slay the child. They surprised him among his toys,
1 Perhaps suggested by the πολλὰ μὲν ἀμφιπρόσωπα καὶ ἀμφίστερν᾽ ἐφύοντο
Βουγενῇ ἀνδρόπρωρα of Empedocles. Professor Burnet’s illuminating account
of the theory of ‘‘organic combinations” advanced by Empedocles is full of
suggestion for the reader of the Myth told by Aristophanes in the Symposium :
see especially section 94 of Early Greek Philosophy.
2 For the story of Zagreus and its place in religious doctrine and practice,
see Lobeck, Aglaoph. pp. 547 ff., Gardner’s New Chapters in Greek History,
p. 396, and Jevons’ Introduction to the History of Religion, p. 355. Dr. Jevons
sums up as follows: The Zagreus Myth, before Pythagoreanism affected the
Orphie cult, had driven out all others, and was accepted as the orthodox
explanation of the new worship, by which it was reconciled with the old
customary religion. Pythagoreanism afterwards allegorised this Myth in the
interest not of religion, but of a philosophical system. See also Olympiodorus
ad Plat. Phaedonem, 70 c, Grote’s Hist. of Greece, parti. ch. i. (vol. i. p. 17,
n. 1, ed. 1862), and Miss Harrison’s Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion,
Introduction, p. xi.
410 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
while he was wondering at the image of his own face in a
mirror, and tore him to pieces and ate him, all save his heart,
which Athena brought to Zeus, who gave it to Semele, and
from her Zagreus was born again as Dionysus. The Titans
Zeus in anger consumed with his lightning, and out of their
ashes arose Man, whose nature thus unites in its composition
an evil element—the flesh of the Titans,—and a good element
—the flesh of Zagreus which they had eaten.
Much was made of this Myth by Orphic and Neo-
Platonic interpreters. The dismemberment (διαμελισμός) of
Zagreus was symbolic of the resolution of the One unto the
Many; his birth again as Dionysus, of the return from the
Many to the One; while the moral of all was that by cere-
monial rites and ecstasy we may overcome the Titanic element
in us.}
That Zagreus, the Horned Child, κερόεν βρέφος, as he is
called, represented the bull which was torn to pieces and eaten
in a savage rite, and that the Greek story which I have
sketched was an Aetiological Myth to explain the rite, it
is impossible to doubt. Out of this savage material were
evolved the highly philosophical and moral results which I
have indicated. This parallel I have brought in the hope
of making Plato’s introduction of the Round People into
his Philosophy of Love more intelligible.
I said that the story of the Round People, told by
Aristophanes, stands alone among the Platonic Myths in being
conceived in a spirit and related in a manner which remind
one of Rabelais or Swift. Let me cap it from Rabelais
(iv. 57-61) :—
Pantagruel? went ashore in an island, which, for situation and
governor, may be said not to have its fellow. When you just
come into it, you find it rugged, craggy, and barren, unpleasant
to the eye, painful to the feet, and almost as inaccessible as the
mountain of Dauphiné, which is somewhat like a toad-stool, and was
never climbed, as any can remember, by any but Doyac, who had
charge of King Charles the Eighth’s train of artillery. This same
Doyac, with strange tools and engines, gained the mountain’s top,
and there he found an old ram. It puzzled many a wise head to
guess how it got thither. Some said that some eagle, or great
1 See Rohde, Psyche, ii. 117 ff.; Lobeck, Aglaoph. 710 ff.
? [ avail myself of the version of Urquhart and Motteux.
THE TWO SYMPOSTUM MYTHS 411
horn-coot, having carried it thither while it was yet a lambkin,
it had got away, and saved itself among the bushes,
As for us, having with much toil and sweat overcome the
difficult ways at the entrance, we found the top of the mountain
so fertile, healthful, and pleasant, that I thought 1 was then in
the true Garden of Eden, or earthly paradise, about whose
situation our good theologues are in such a quandary, and keep
such a pother.
As for Pantagruel, he said that here was the seat of Areté—
that is as much as to say, Virtue—described by Hesiod. This,
however, with submission to better judgments. The ruler of this
place was one Master Gaster, the first master of arts in the world.
For, if you believe that fire is the great master of arts, as Tully
writes, you very much wrong him and yourself: alas, Tully never
believed this. On the other side, if you fancy Mercury to be the
first inventor of arts, as our ancient Druids believed of old, you
are mightily beside the mark. The satirist’s' sentence that affirms
Master Gaster to be the master of all arts is true. With him
peacefully resided old Goody Penia, alias Poverty, the mother of
the ninety-nine Muses, on whom Porus, the lord of Plenty,
formerly begot Love, that noble child, the mediator of heaven
and earth, as Plato affirms zn Symposio. We were all obliged to
pay our homage, and swear allegiance to that mighty sovereign ;
for he is imperious, severe, blunt, hard, uneasy, inflexible; you
cannot make him believe, represent to him, or persuade him
anything. He does not hear. . . . He only speaks by signs. . . .
What company soever he is in, none dispute with him for pre-
cedence or superiority. . . . He held the first place at the Coun-
cil of Basle; though some will tell you that the Council was
tumultuous, by the contention and ambition of many for priority.
Every one is busied, and labours to serve him; and, indeed, to
make amends for this, he does this good to mankind, as to invent
for them all arts, machines, trades, engines, and crafts; he even
instructs brutes in arts which are against their nature, making
poets of ravens, jackdaws, chattering jays, parrots, and starlings,
and poetesses of magpies, teaching them to utter human language,
speak, and sing. . . . At the court of that great master of
ingenuity, Pantagruel observed two sorts of troublesome and too
officious apparitors, whom he very much detested. The first were
called Engastrimythes; the others Gastrolaters. . . . The first
were soothsayers, enchanters, cheats, who gulled the mob, and
seemed not to speak and give answers from the mouth, but from
the belly. . . . In the holy decrees, 26, qu. 3, they are styled
1 Persius, Prologus—
Magister artis, ingenique largitor
Venter.
412 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Ventriloqui; and the same name is given them in Ionian by
Hippocrates, in his fifth book of Hpzd., as men who spoke from
the belly. Sophocles calls them Sternomantes. . . . As for the
Gastrolaters, they stuck close to one another in knots and gangs.
Some of them merry, wanton . . . others louring, grim, dogged,
demure, and crabbed ; all idle, mortal foes to business, spending
half their time in sleeping, and the rest in doing nothing, a rent-
charge and dead unnecessary weight on the earth, as Hesiod saith ;
afraid, as we judged, of offending or lessening their paunch. . . .
Coming near the Gastrolaters, I saw they were followed by a
great number of fat waiters and tenders, laden with baskets,
dossers, hampers, dishes, wallets, pots, and kettles. . . .
Those gastrolatrous hobgoblins being withdrawn, Pantagruel
carefully minded the famous master of arts, Gaster. .. . From
the beginning he invented the smith’s art, and husbandry to
manure the ground, that it might yield him corn; he invented
arms, and the art of war, to defend corn; physic and astronomy,
with other parts of mathematics, which might be useful to keep
corn a great number of years in safety from the injuries of the
air, beasts, robbers, and purloiners ; he invented water, wind, and
hand-mills, and a thousand other engines to grind corn, and to
turn it into meal; leaven to make the dough ferment, and the use
of salt to give it a savour, for he knew that nothing bred more
diseases than heavy, unleavened, unsavoury bread. He found
a way to get fire to bake it; hour-glasses, dials, and clocks to
mark the time of its baking ; and as some countries wanted corn,
he contrived means to convey it out of one country into another.
. . . He invented mules. . . . He invented carts and waggons.
.. . He devised boats, gallies, and ships. . . . Besides, seeing
that, when he tilled the ground, some years the corn perished in
it for want of rain in due season, in others rotted, or was drowned
by its excess, . . . he found out a way to conjure the rain down ©
from heaven only with cutting a certain grass. . . . I took it to
be the same as the plant, one of whose boughs being dipped by
Jove’s priest in the Agrian fountain, on the Lycian mountain in
Arcadia, in time of drought, raised vapours which gathered into
clouds, and then dissolved into rain, that kindly moistened the
whole country. Our master of arts was also said to have found
a way to keep the rain up in the air, and make it fall into the
sea... . And as in the fields, thieves and plunderers sometimes
stole, and took by force the corn and bread which others had
toiled to get, he invented the art of building towns, forts, and
castles, to hoard and secure that staff of life. On the other hand,
finding none in the fields, and hearing that it was hoarded up and
secured in towns, forts, and castles, and watched with more care
than ever were the golden pippins of the Hesperides, he turned
THE TWO SYMPOSTUM MYTHS 415
engineer, and found ways to beat, storm, and demolish forts and
castles, with machines and warlike thunderbolts, battering-rams,
ballistas, and catapults, whose shapes were shown us, not over-
well understood by our engineers, architects, and other disciples
of Vitruvius,
414 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Symposium 202 Ὁ--212 4
> 3 e /
202 D Ti οὖν av, ἔφην, εἴη ὁ "Ἔρως; θνητός; “Heiora γε.
/ lal
Ε᾽Αλλὰ τί μήν; “Ὥσπερ τὰ πρότερα, ἔφη, μεταξὺ θνητοῦ
\ > / / 3 7 / / / Ss
καὶ a0avatov. Ti οὖν, ὦ Διοτίμα; Aaipov μέγας, ὦ
- ’ \ \ a \ ὃ t / > a
Σώκρατες" καὶ yap πᾶν τὸ δαιμόνιον μεταξύ ἐστι θεοῦ τε
\ lal / S , > / / »” « Qn
καὶ θνητοῦ. Τίνα, ἣν δ᾽ ἐγώ, δύναμιν ἔχον; “Ἑρμηνεῦον
\ “ lal \ ’ 5 7 \ > 7
καὶ διαπορθμεῦον θεοῖς τὰ παρ᾽ ἀνθρώπων καὶ ἀνθρώποις
τὰ παρὰ θεῶν, τῶν μὲν τὰς δεήσεις καὶ θυσίας, τῶν τε
\ 2 / \ > \ a A > / oo
τὰς ἐπιτάξεις τε Kal ἀμοιβὰς τῶν θυσιῶν. ἐν μέσῳ δὲ ὃν
> / “ [4 \ “Ὁ > Ν ς A /
ἀμφοτέρων συμπληροῖ, ὥστε TO πᾶν αὐτὸ αὑτῷ ξυνδεδέσθαι.
διὰ τούτου καὶ ἡ μαντικὴ πᾶσα χωρεῖ καὶ ἡ τῶν ἱερέων
s al \ \ / \ \ \ \ \
τέχνη TOV τε περὶ Tas θυσίας καὶ Tas τελετὰς Kai τὰς
> \ \ \ / “ \ / \ \
203 ἐπῳδὰς Kal τὴν μαντείαν πᾶσαν καὶ γοητείαν. θεὸς δὲ
> , > / > \ \ / a ΄ > ς
ἀνθρώπῳ οὐ μίγνυται, ἀλλὰ διὰ τούτου πᾶσά ἐστιν ἡ
ὁμιλία καὶ ἡ διάλεκτος θεοῖς πρὸς ἀνθρώπους, καὶ
ἐγρηγορόσι καὶ καθεύδουσι. καὶ ὁ μὲν περὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα
/
σοφὸς δαιμόνιος ἀνήρ, ὁ δὲ ἄλλο Te σοφὸς ὧν ἢ περὶ
/ nN / a! / e \ ς ’ὔ
τέχνας ἢ χειρουργίας Twas βάναυσος. οὗτοι δὴ οἱ δαίμονες
\ \ / > e \ / b] \ \ e
πολλοὶ Kal παντοδαποί εἰσιν, els δὲ τούτων ἐστὶ Kal ὁ
"RH Il Ν δέ 9 δ᾽ . οἷν] / 2 \ \ / ,
pas. atpos δέ, ἣν ἐγώ, τίνος ἐστὶ καὶ μητρός ;
Β Μακρότερον μέν, ἔφη, διηγήσασθαι. ὅμως δέ σοι ἐρῶ. ὅτε
γὰρ ἐγένετο ἡ ᾿Αφροδίτη, εἱστιῶντο οἱ θεοί, οἵ τε ἄλλοι
- /
καὶ ὁ τῆς Μήτιδος υἱὸς Llopos. ἐπειδὴ δὲ ἐδείπνησαν,
7 : \ > 7 ” > / ς /
προσαιτήσουσα, οἷον δὴ εὐωχίας οὔσης, ἀφίκετο ἡ Llevia
¢ / a
Kal ἣν περὶ tas θύρας. ὁ οὖν Ἰ]όρος μεθυσθεὶς τοῦ
Ν n an
νέκταρος, οἶνος γὰρ οὔπω Hv, εἰς τὸν τοῦ Διὸς κῆπον
εἰσελθὼν βεβαρημένος ηὗδεν. ἡ οὖν Llevia, ἐπιβουλεύουσα
\ \ | ee > / / / > rn /
διὰ τὴν αὑτῆς ἀπορίαν παιδίον ποιήσασθαι ἐκ ‘rod ἸΠόρου,
/ / ᾽ > “A \ > / \ v \
C κατακλίνεταί Te Tap αὐτῷ Kal ἐκύησε τὸν "ἔρωτα. διὸ
΄σ 3 /
δὴ καὶ τῆς Adpoditns ἀκόλουθος καὶ θεράπων γέγονεν ὁ
ΠΕΣ νυ." \ , - ᾿] / θ ’ὔ \ “ /
ἔρως, γεννηθεὶς ἐν τοῖς ἐκείνης γενεθλίοις Kal ἅμα φύσει
ἐραστὴξ ὧν περὶ τὸ καλόν, καὶ τῆς ᾿Αφροδίτης καλῆς
να. ὡουδνα
THE TWO SYMPOSIUM ΜΥΤῊΒ 415
TRANSLATION OF THE Discourse or DIOTIMA
What then is Kros?—is he Mortal? Nay, Mortal he
verily is not. What then is he? Betwixt Mortal and
Immortal, she answered. What sayest thou, Diotima? He
is a great Daemon, Socrates: for the whole tribe of Daemons
is betwixt God and Mortal. And what is their office? said
I. They are Interpreters, and carry up to the Gods the
things which come from men, and unto men the things which
come from the Gods—our prayers and burnt-offerings, and
their commands and the recompenses of our burnt-offerings.
The tribe of Daemons being in the midst betwixt these twain
—the Godhead and Mankind—filleth up that distance, so
that the Universe is held together in the bond of unity.
Through the intermediation of these cometh all divination ;
the art of priests cometh also through them, and of them
that have to do with burnt-offerings and initiations and
enchantments and every sort of soothsaying and witchery.
The Godhead mingleth not with Mankind; but it is through
the Daemons only that Gods converse with men, both when
we are awake and when we are asleep: and he who hath the
wisdom whereby he understandeth this work of the Daemons
is ἃ man inspired, and he who hath any other wisdom
whereby he excelleth in some art or craft is a mechanic.
Now these Daemons are many and of all sorts: and one of
them is Eros. And who is his Father, I said, and who is his
Mother? That is a longer story, she said, but I will tell it
unto thee.
On the day that Aphrodite was born, the Gods made
a feast, and with them sat Abundance the son of Prudence.
When they had eaten, Poverty, perceiving that there was
good cheer, came for to beg, and she stood at the door. Now
Abundance, having made himself drunken with nectar—for
there was no wine then,—entered into the Garden of Zeus,
and being heavy with drink, slept; and Poverty, being minded
by reason of her helplessness to have a child by Abundance,
lay with him, and she conceived and bore Eros. Wherefore
Kros became the companion and servant of Aphrodite; for
204
410 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
é ΝΥ , , εχ rN ts
οὔσης. ἅτε οὖν ἸΙόρου καὶ Ilevias vios ὧν ὁ "ἔρως ἐν
/ , / a Ν / : wy " \
τοιαύτῃ τύχῃ καθέστηκε. πρῶτον μὲν πένης ἀεί ἐστι, καὶ
- a e / \ / e \ ”
πολλοῦ δεῖ ἁπαλὸς τε Kal καλός, οἷον οἱ πολλοὶ οἴονται,
» \ \ \ > \ \ > / \ ”
αλλὰ σκληρὸς καὶ αὐὔχμηὴρος καὶ ἀνυπόδητος καὶ ἄοικος,
\ aN N \ ” 2. ὧς 4 \ > e “-“
χαμαιπετὴς ἀεὶ ὧν καὶ ἄστρωτος, ἐπὶ θύραις καὶ ἐν ὁδοῖς
ὑπταίθριος κοιμώμενος, τὴν TH τρὸς φύσιν ἔχων ἀεὶ ἐνδείᾳ
ὑπαίθριος κοιμώμενος, τὴν τῆς μητρὸς x ‘
4 \ \ φ \ i. > / / b] A
ξύνοικος. κατὰ δὲ αὖ τὸν πατέρα ἐπίβουλός ἐστι τοῖς
a \ a ? - > a x 1 = \ /
καλοῖς καὶ τοῖς ἀγαθοῖς, ἀνδρεῖος wv καὶ ἴτης Kal σύντονος,
\ / » ME / / \
θηρευτὴς δεινός, ἀεί τινας πλέκων μηχανάς, καὶ φρονήσεως
/ - \ Ν a /
ἐπιθυμητής, Kal πόριμος, φιλοσοφῶν διὰ παντὸς τοῦ βίου,
\ / Ν \ \ / \ Μ e
dewvos γόης καὶ φαρμακεὺς καὶ σοφιστής" καὶ οὔτε ὡς
/ \ fel
ἀθάνατος πέφυκεν οὔτε ὡς θνητὸς, ἀλλὰ τοτὲ μὲν τῆς
+ as, ς 7 / \ A Φ > / \ \
αὐτῆς ἡμέρας θάλλει Te καὶ ζῇ, ὅταν εὐπορήσῃ, τοτὲ δὲ
> , , \ > 7, \ \ nr \
ἀποθνήσκει, πάλιν δὲ ἀναβιώσκεται διὰ τὴν τοῦ πατρὸς
/ \ \ / Se ς al “ ” > 7
φύσιν. τὸ δὲ ποριζόμενον ἀεὶ ὑπεκρεῖ, ὥστε οὔτε ἀπορεῖ
ν᾿ “-“
ἔρως ποτὲ οὔτε πλουτεῖ. σοφίας τε avd καὶ ἀμαθίας ἐν
-" nr »
μέσῳ ἐστίν. ἔχει γὰρ @be θεῶν οὐδεὶς φιλοσοφεῖ οὐδ
᾽ a / / ᾽ ”
ἐπιθυμεῖ σοφὸς γενέσθαι: ἔστι yap: οὐδ᾽ εἴ Tis ἄλλος
/ lal ᾽ . lal fal
σοφός, ov φιλοσοφεῖ. οὐδ᾽ αὖ οἱ ἀμαθεῖς φιλοσοφοῦσιν
>>? > a \ , + ee \ re >
οὐδ ἐπιθυμοῦσι σοφοὶ γενέσθαι’ αὐτὸ yap τοῦτό ἐστι
/ \ \ \ /
χαλεπὸν ἀμαθία, TO μὴ ὄντα καλὸν κἀγαθὸν μηδὲ φρόνιμον
“ ς a s ᾿ / » > aA \ 57
δοκεῖν αὑτῴ εἶναι ἱκανόν. οὔκουν ἐπιθυμεῖ ὁ μὴ οἰόμενος
᾽ \ Φ Φ Nn \ v > A / > Μ
ἐνδεὴς εἶναι οὗ ἂν μὴ οἴηται ἐπιδεῖσθαι. Τίνες οὖν, ἔφην
rn /
ἐγώ, ὦ Διοτίμα, of φιλοσοφοῦντες, εἰ μήτε of σοφοὶ μήτε
rn - rn /
οἱ ἀμαθεῖς; Δῆλον δή, ἔφη, τοῦτό γε ἤδη Kal παιδί, ὅτι
¢ \ / , / ? Ss \ « ”
οἱ μεταξὺ τούτων ἀμφοτέρων, ὧν αὖ καὶ ὁ Epos. ἔστι
»" r v
yap δὴ τῶν καλλίστων ἡ σοφία, “Epws δ᾽ ἐστὶν ἔρως περὶ
/ , - / =
τὸ καλόν, ὥστε ἀναγκαῖον “Epwta φιλόσοφον εἶναι,
/ \ 5 - r \ re
φιλόσοφον δὲ ὄντα μεταξὺ εἶναι σοφοῦ Kai ἀμαθοῦς. αἰτία
-- ᾿ \ \ \ i‘
δὲ αὐτῷ καὶ τούτων ἡ γένεσις" πατρὸς μὲν yap σοφοῦ
THE TWO SYMPOSTUM MYTHS 417
he was begotten on her birthday, and is, moreover, by nature
a lover of Beauty and of Aphrodite the Beautiful.
Inasmuch, then, as Eros is the son of Abundance and
Poverty, his case standeth thus :—TFirst, he is poor alway ; and
so far is he from being tender and fair, as most do opine, that
he is rough and squalid, and he goeth barefoot and hath no
house to dwell in, but lieth alway on the bare earth at doors
and on the highways, sleeping under the open sky; for his
mother’s nature he hath, and he dwelleth alway in company
with want. But he hath also his Father’s nature, and ever
plotteth against the fair and good; being a bold lad, and
ever ready with bow strung, a mighty hunter, alway weaving
devices, eagerly desiring knowledge, full of inventions, playing
the philosopher all his life, a mighty charlatan and master of
enchantments and subtle reasons. Inasmuch, then, as he hath
the nature neither of Immortal nor of Mortal, he bloometh
and liveth when that aboundeth unto him which his heart
desireth, and, anon, the very same day he dieth; and then he
cometh to life again, because of his Father’s nature: that
which is continually supplied unto him in abundance runneth
away continually, so that he is neither poor nor rich. More-
over, he standeth in the midst betwixt Wisdom and Ignorance;
for the matter standeth thus—No God is a Philosopher, to
wit, one who desireth to become wise, for a God is already
wise; and if there be any man who is wise, neither is he
a Philosopher. Nor are the ignorant Philosophers; they
desire not to become wise; for herein lieth the evil of
Ignorance, that when a man is without Virtue and
Wisdom, he nevertheless thinketh that he is sufficiently
furnished therewith, and no man desireth that which he
thinketh he lacketh not.
Who, then, Diotima, said I, are the Philosophers, if neither
the wise nor the ignorant are Philosophers ?
A child could answer that, she said: They that are
betwixt the two sorts, even as Eros himself is. For Wisdom
indeed is of the number of those things which are the most
beautiful; and Eros is desire that fluttereth about the Beautiful;
wherefore it followeth that Eros is a Lover of Wisdom, a
Philosopher, being betwixt the wise and the ignorant.
Whereof his parentage is the cause also; for his Father
2E
418 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
> \ > / \ δὲ > n \ ? / ε Ν
ἐστι καὶ εὐπόρου, μητρὸς δὲ οὐ σοφῆς καὶ ἀπόρου. ἡ μὲν
/ lal , 45 ,
οὖν φύσις τοῦ δαίμονος, ὦ φίλε Σώκρατες, αὕτη" ὃν δὲ σὺ
a7 » 5 \ »O\ 54 τὼ ΄
σ ὠήθης “Epwta εἶναι, θαυμαστὸν οὐδὲν ἔπαθες. φῳήθης δέ,
΄ > \ aA / 2 ἂν \ / \ > [4
ὡς ἐμοὶ δοκεῖ τεκμαιρομένῃ ἐξ ὧν σὺ λέγεις, τὸ ἐρώμενον
v > b] \ a Ἂν \ “Ὁ ΄ 3 /
ἔρωτα εἶναι, ov τὸ ἐρῶν. διὰ ταῦτά σοι, οἶμαι, πάγκαλος
> / e » \ \ ” Ν > \ \ a yy
ἐφαίνετο ὁ Epws. καὶ yap ἔστι TO ἐραστὸν τὸ τῷ ὄντι
\ \ e \ \ / \ / \ /
καλὸν καὶ ἁβρὸν Kal τέλεον Kal μακαριστόν: τὸ δέ γε
a / / / 4 n
ἐρῶν ἄλλην ἰδέαν τοιαύτην ἔχον, οἵαν ἐγὼ διῆλθον.
206A "ἔστιν ἄρα ξυλλήβδην, ἔφη, ὁ ἔρως τοῦ τὸ ἀγαθὸν αὑτῷ
> ᾽
εἶναι ἀεί. ᾿Αληθέστατα, ἔφην ἐγώ, λέγεις.
/, \ 4 e , / ’ ω /
B Ore δὴ τούτου ὁ ἔρως ἐστὶν ἀεί, 7 δ᾽ ἥ, τῶν τίνα
/ / 9 -\ \ > ’, / ς \ \ ς
τρόπον διωκόντων αὐτὸ καὶ ἐν τίνι πράξει ἡ σπουδὴ καὶ ἡ
/ XxX -“ /, lal x \
σύντασις ἔρως ἂν καλοῖτο; τί τοῦτο τυγχάνει ὃν TO
» » ? a > / ? x / ” ιν 5
ἔργον ; ἔχεις εἰπεν; Ov pevt ἂν σέ, ἔφην ἐγώ, ὦ
/ >? / > \ / \ 3 / \ \ > \
Διοτίμα, ἐθαύμαζον ἐπὶ σοφίᾳ καὶ ἐφοίτων Tapa σὲ αὐτὰ
fal ’ > > / » a ” \
ταῦτα μαθησόμενοςς ᾿Αλλ ἐγώ σοι, ἔφη, ἐρῶ. ἔστι γὰρ
a / “ \ \ lal \ \
τοῦτο τόκος ἐν καλῴ Kal κατὰ TO σῶμα Kal κατὰ τὴν
͵ 7 5 Ν᾿. a “ \ / \
ψυχήν. Μαντείας, ἣν δ᾽ ἐγώ, δεῖται 6 τι ποτὲ λέγεις, Kal
7 > ᾽ , , 9 + | / a rn
Cov μανθάνω. ᾿Αλλ᾽ ἐγώ, ἢ δ᾽ ἥ, σαφέστερον ἐρῶ. κυοῦσι
7 ” “ ἣν , ΄ ” \ \ \ a
yap, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, πάντες ἄνθρωποι Kal κατὰ TO σῶμα
\ \ \ / \ > δὰ » δ / /
Kal κατὰ τὴν Ψυχὴν, καὶ ἐπειδὰν Ev τινι ἡλικίᾳ γένωνται,
τίκτειν ἐπιθυμεῖ ἡμῶν ἡ φύσις. τίκτειν δὲ ἐν μὲν αἰσχρῷ
ί μεῖ ἡμῶν ἡ ᾿ μὲν αἰσχρᾷ
> ὃ / > de A +f a ς \ > ὃ \ \ \
ov δύναται, ἐν δὲ τῴ KANO. ἡ Yap ἀνδρὸς Kal γυναικὸς
/ / ΝΜ \ κ - \ - \
συνουσία τόκος ἐστίν. ἔστι δὲ τοῦτο θεῖον TO πρᾶγμα, Kal
lal > A ΝΜ “Ὁ , > 4 » ς 4
τοῦτο ἐν θνητῷ ὄντι TO ζώῳ ἀθάνατον ἔνεστιν, ἡ κύησις
/ lal » A / 4
καὶ ἡ γέννησις. ταῦτα 8 ἐν TH ἀναρμόστῳ ἀδύνατον
/ > / ᾽ > \ \ > \ \ a /
Ὁ γενέσθαι. ἀνάρμοστον δ᾽ ἐστὶ τὸ αἰσχρὸν παντὶ τῷ θείῳ,
\ / a 8 ’
τὸ δὲ καλὸν ἁρμόττον. Μοῖρα οὖν καὶ Εἰλείθυια ἡ
al / \ “ Φ \
καλλονή ἐστι TH γενέσει. Sia ταῦτα ὅταν μὲν καλῷ προσ-
"» ξ΄ 7 \ , Ε
πελάζη τὸ κυοῦν, ἵλεών τε γίγνεται καὶ εὐφραινόμενον
- \ an “ \ ᾽ a
διαχεῖται καὶ τίκτει TE καὶ γεννᾷ: ὅταν δὲ αἰσχρῷ,
7 na /
σκυθρωπόν τε Kal λυπούμενον συσπειρᾶται Kal ἀποτρέπεται
THE TWO SYMPOSIUM MYTHS 419
is wise and rich, and his Mother is not wise and poor.
This, my dear Socrates, is the nature of the Daemon Kros ;
and I marvel not that thou thoughtest another was Eros
—for thou thoughtest, as I judge from what thou sayest,
that the Beloved, not That which Loveth, is Eros. For this
cause, methinks, Eros seemed all beautiful in thine eyes, for
tis the Beloved that is indeed fair and delicate and perfect,
and worthy to be accounted happy; but as for That which
Loveth, it is of another kind, such as I have declared.
* * * * ΕΣ *
The sum of the whole matter, she said, is this: That Love
which is Eros is the desire of having the Good alway for his
own. Most true, I said. Since this is what Love ever desir-
eth, she said, how shall a man follow after this, and what shall
he do that his diligence and endeavour in following after it
may be rightly called Love? What is the very thing which
he must bring to pass? Canst thou tell it? I cannot tell it,
I said, else should I not be here drawn by thy wisdom, thy
disciple come unto thee to learn this very thing.
Then I will tell it unto thee, she said:—The bringing
of somewhat to timely birth in Beauty, both according to the
flesh and according to the spirit—that is the Work of Love.
Thy meaning needeth a prophet for the interpretation thereof,
I said: I understand it not. Well, I will make it plain,
she said.
All mankind, Socrates, do conceive according to the flesh
and according to the spirit; and when we are come to the
proper time of life, our nature desireth to bring forth: but
it cannot bring forth in that which is deformed, only in that
which is beautiful: and this work which it doeth when it
conceiveth and begetteth is divine: this work is that which
in the life of the mortal creature hath immortality; but it
cannot be accomplished in aught that is unfit: now, that which
is deformed is unfit for the divine; and the beautiful is fit:
Beauty, therefore, is the Fate which ruleth nativities and the
Divine Midwife. Wherefore, when that which hath conceived
cometh nigh unto that which is beautiful, it is filled with soft
delight, and being thereby relaxed bringeth forth and _ be-
getteth ; but when it cometh nigh unto that which is
deformed, it is drawn together with frowning and pain, and
420 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
A ? \ / “
καὶ ἀνείλλεται καὶ οὐ γεννᾷ, ἀλλ᾽ ἴσχον τὸ κύημα χαλεπῶς
/ “ \ A a / \ 7 A \
φέρει. ὅθεν δὴ τῷ KvOvYTL τε Kal ἤδη σπαργῶντι πολλὴ
e / / \ \ \ \ \ / ’ a
Ἑ ἡ πτοίησις γέγονε περὶ τὸ καλὸν διὰ TO μεγάλης ὠδῖνος
> / \ 4 Ν / 5 , ” > lal
ἀπολύειν τὸν ἔχοντα. ἔστι γάρ, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἔφη, ov τοῦ
al ς \ / lol /
καλοῦ ὁ ἔρως, ὡς σὺ οἴει. ᾿Αλλὰ Ti μὴν; Τῆς γεννήσεως
\ a / > A rs > 5 ae pe: 7, \
καὶ τοῦ τόκου ἐν TO καλῷ. Εἶεν, ἣν δ᾽ ἐγώ: Ἰ]άνυ μὲν
- » “ \ 5 rn / [τ >’ / >
οὖν, ἔφη. Ti δὴ οὖν τῆς γεννήσεως ; OTL ἀευγενές ἐστι
\ ᾽ , ΄ A ς / > / \
901 καὶ ἀθάνατον ὡς θνητῷ ἡ σγέννησις. ἀθανασίας δὲ
ἀναγκαῖον ἐπιθυμεῖν μετὰ ἀγαθοῦ ἐκ τῶν ὡμολογημένων,
ἴω a lal 5 al
εἴπερ τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ ἑαυτῷ εἶναι ἀεὶ ἔρως ἐστίν. ἀναγκαῖον
Ν > " a / \ a > / \ ”
δὴ ἐκ τούτου τοῦ λόγου καὶ THs ἀθανασίας τὸν ἔρωτα
εἶναι.
* * * * * *
e \ > > / ΝΜ Ν 7 vv \
2058: Οἱ μὲν οὖν ἐγκύμονες, ἔφη, κατὰ σώματα ὄντες πρὸς
Taal an / /
τὰς γυναῖκας μᾶλλον τρέπονται Kal ταύτῃ ἐρωτικοί εἶσι,
/ / / /
διὰ παιδογονίας ἀθανασίαν καὶ μνήμην καὶ εὐδαιμονίαν, ὡς
n bd \ / / /
οἴονται, αὑτοῖς εἰς τὸν ἔπειτα χρόνον πάντα ποριζόμενοι"
\ / > \ 5 t lal
4209 οἱ δὲ κατὰ τὴν ψυχήν---εἰσὶ γὰρ οὖν, ἔφη, οὗ ἐν ταῖς
lal a » a x > a 4 A a
ψυχαῖς κυοῦσιν ἔτι μᾶλλον ἢ ἐν τοῖς σώμασιν, ἃ ψυχῇ
»" \ tad /
προσήκει Kal κυῆσαι καὶ κυεῖν. τί οὖν προσήκει ;
/ / \ \ ” > / Φ / > \ e
φρόνησίν te καὶ τὴν ἄλλην ἀρετήν: ὧν δή εἰσι Kal οἱ
/ / \ “ lal
ποιηταὶ πάντες γεννήτορες Kat τῶν δημιουργῶν ὅσοι
\ Cy \
λέγονται evpeTiKol εἶνα. πολὺ δὲ μεγίστη, ἔφη, Kal
7 rn / \ rn /
καλλίστη τῆς φρονήσεως ἡ περὶ Tas τῶν πόλεών TE Kal
WED. ἃ ͵ ᾿ δὲ " νὰ γώ ͵, \
οἰκήσεων διακοσμήσεις, ἣ δὴ ὄνομά ἐστι σωφροσύνη τε καὶ
7 7 5S Ὁ >’ / > / 5 \
Β δικαιοσύνη. τούτων av ὅταν Tis ἐκ νέου ἐγκύμων ἡ τὴν
\ a ” \ ¢ / a 4 7 / \
ψυχὴν θεῖος ὧν, Kal ἡκούσης τῆς ἡλικίας τίκτειν TE καὶ
a ” ᾽ a a / 3 \ Φ \
γεννᾶν ἤδη ἐπιθυμεῖ. ζητεῖ δή, οἶμαι, καὶ οὗτος περιιὼν
Ν λὸ > ee / ὁ ᾽ A \ , al ἠδέ
τὸ καλὸν ἐν ᾧ ἂν γεννήσειεν'" ἐν τῷ γὰρ αἰσχρῷ οὐδέποτε
, 5 , n
γεννήσει. τά τε οὖν σώματα τὰ καλὰ μᾶλλον ἢ τὰ
> \ > 7 “ A \ +. > 7 A a
αἰσχρὰ ἀσπάζεται ate κυῶν, καὶ ἐὰν ἐντύχῃ ψυχῇ καλῇ
καὶ γενναίᾳ καὶ εὐφυεῖ, πάνυ δὴ ἀσπάζεται τὸ Evvap-
Y { ’ 1) μ
/ r \ \ -“
φότερον, καὶ πρὸς τοῦτον τὸν ἄνθρωπον εὐθὺς εὐπορεῖ
δι n \ \ \ > \ ” \
σ λόγων περι ἀρετῆς καὶ “περι οἷον XP” e€lval TOV ἄνδρα TOV
THE TWO SYMPOSIUM MYTHS 421
turneth itself away, and is rolled up, and begetteth not, but
holdeth in that which it hath conceived, and is in sore dis-
tress. So it cometh to pass that when any one hath conceived,
and is already big, he fluttereth alway with vehement desire
around that which is beautiful, because the possession thereof
easeth him of his sore travail: for, she said, Love is not ful-
filled in the Beautiful as thou thinkest, Socrates. Wherein,
then? In begetting and bringing forth in the Beautiful.
So be it, said 1. Yea, she said, it is so; but wherefore in
begetting? Because this is that which, in the Mortal, is
Immortal from generation unto generation without end.
Immortality, together with Good, Love must needs desire,
according to our premises, for Love is desire of having Good
alway for his own. This, then, followeth further from our
argument, that Love aimeth at Immortality.
* * * * * *
They who conceive after the flesh, she said, turn them
rather to the love of women, by the procreation of children
laying up for themselves, as they think, immortality and
remembrance and felicity for evermore: but they who conceive
after the spirit—for, she said, there are who conceive in their
souls more truly than others conceive in their bodies—these,
she said, conceive that which is meet for the soul to conceive
and to bear: and what is that? Wisdom and all Virtue;
whereof all the poets are begetters, and every workman of whom
we say that he is a cunning inventor: but the greatest by far,
she said, and the fairest part of Wisdom is that which hath to
do with the ordering of cities and households, which is called
by the names of Temperance and Justice. The man who in his
youth hath conceived these in his soul, being inspired of God,
as soon as the time of life cometh, desireth to bring forth and
beget: so he goeth about seeking the Beautiful wherein he
may beget; for in the deformed he will never beget: and
beautiful bodies rather than deformed he greeteth with wel-
come, inasmuch as he hath conceived: and if he happen upon
a beautiful soul of noble nature and excellent parts, in a beau-
tiful body, he greeteth the twain—beautiful body and beautiful
soul—with double welcome; and upon him who hath the
twain he straightway, endeavouring to instruct, poureth out
Speech in abundance concerning Virtue and what the Good
422 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
> \ \ ἃ > / \ 5 a 4 « /
ἀγαθὸν καὶ ἃ ἐπιτηδεύειν, Kal ἐπιχειρεῖ παιδεύειν. ἁπτό-
7 5 “ -“ \ ¢ = ΕῚ an A ͵7
μενος γάρ, οἶμαι, τοῦ καλοῦ καὶ ὁμιλῶν αὐτῷ, ἃ πάλαι
A \ \
ἐκύει, τίκτει Kal γεννᾷ, Kal παρὼν Kal ἀπὼν μεμνημένος,
\ \ \ / nr v5 3 / Φ Ἁ
καὶ τὸ γεννηθὲν συνεκτρέφει κοινῇ μετ᾽ ἐκείνου, ὥστε πολὺ
/ / a A / \ > / e rn
μείζω κοινωνίαν τῆς TOV παίδων πρὸς ἀλλήλους οἱ τοιοῦτοι
7 /
ἴσχουσι καὶ φιλίαν βεβαιοτέραν, ate καλλιόνων καὶ
> / / / \ a x /
ἀθανατωτέρων παίδων κεκοινωνηκότεςς. καὶ πᾶς ἂν δέξαιτο
ε A / a a / x \ 3 ,
Ὁ ἑαυτῷ τοιούτους παῖδας μᾶλλον γεγονέναι ἢ τοὺς ἀνθρωπί-
/ / \ ς / \
vous, καὶ eis “Ὅμηρον ἀποβλέψας καὶ Ἡσίοδον καὶ τοὺς
Μ \ \ a » a
ἄλλους ποιητὰς τοὺς ἀγαθοὺς ζηλῶν, ola ἔκγονα ἑαυτῶν
/ A b] / » / / \ /
καταλείπουσιν, ἃ ἐκείνοις ἀθάνατον κλέος Kal μνήμην
/ > \ a ” > \ 4 54 “
παρέχεται αὐτὰ τοιαῦτα ὄντα: εἰ δὲ βούλει, ἔφη, οἵους
lal ral 7 7 lal a
Λυκοῦργος παῖδας κατελίπετο ἐν Λακεδαίμονι σωτῆρας τῆς
lal na ¢
Λακεδαίμονος καὶ ὡς ἔπος εἰπεῖν τῆς Ελλάδος. τίμιος δὲ
> Cc oA \ τ 2 ὃ Ν \ a / Ζ \
Tap ὑμῖν καὶ Σόλων διὰ THY τῶν νόμων γέννησιν, καὶ
al / /
Ἑ ἄλλοι ἄλλοθι πολλαχοῦ ἄνδρες, Kat ἐν “Ελλησι καὶ ἐν
/ /
βαρβάροις, πολλὰ Kal καλὰ ἀποφηνάμενοι ἔργα, γεννή-
/ > / e \ e \ \ ΝΜ /
σαντες παντοίαν ἀρετήν: ὧν Kal ἱερὰ πολλὰ ἤδη γέγονε
\ \ / a \ \ \ > /
διὰ τοὺς τοιούτους παῖδας, dia δὲ τοὺς ἀνθρωπίνους
5 /
οὐδενός πω.
a 5 \ 5 /
Ταῦτα μὲν οὖν τὰ ἐρωτικὰ ἴσως, ὦ Σώκρατες, κἂν σὺ
/ \ \ / \ » / e “ \ al
210 μυηθείης" ta δὲ τέλεα Kal ἐποπτικά, ὧν ἕνεκα Kal ταῦτα
» . > a / ᾽ 50. > / > x y
ἔστιν, ἐάν τις ὀρθῶς μετίῃ, οὐκ old εἰ οἷός τ᾽ ἂν εἴης.
rn > \ 7 \
ἐρὼ μὲν οὖν, ἔφη, ἐγὼ καὶ προθυμίας οὐδὲν ἀπολείψω"
an 0 3 / “- “
πειρῶ δὲ ἕπεσθαι, ἂν οἷος τε ἧς. Δεῖ γάρ, ἔφη, τὸν
, rn ./ > \ a \ a ” \ / ν
ὀρθῶς ἰόντα ἐπὶ τοῦτο τὸ πρᾶγμα ἄρχεσθαι μὲν νέον ὄντα
᾽] > \ \ / \ a / ὟΝ > a
ἰέναι. ἐπὶ τὰ καλὰ σώματα, Kal πρῶτον μέν, ἐὰν ὀρθῶς
΄ “ id ς 7 em ’ \ / , A \ ᾿ al
ἡγῆται ὁ ἡγούμενος, ἑνὸς αὐτὸν σώματος ἐρᾶν καὶ ἐνταῦθα
al / / y \ > \ an 7 \
γεννᾶν λόγους καλούς, ἔπειτα δὲ αὐτὸν κατανοῆσαι, ὅτι TO
/ \ ΒΝ e “ ’ a 3 ee ἘΝ ,
Β κάλλος TO ETL OTMOVY σώματι τῷ ἐπὶ ετέρῳ σώματι
/ a \ > ’
ἀδελφόν ἐστι, καὶ εἰ δεῖ διώκειν τὸ ἐπ᾽ εἴδει καλόν, πολλὴ
Μ \ » “ > \ ΄ “- \ ιν a an
ἄνοια μὴ οὐχ ἕν τε Kal ταὐτὸν ἡγεῖσθαι TO ἐπὶ πᾶσι τοῖς
rn ’ “ /
σώμασι κάλλος: τοῦτο δ᾽ ἐννοήσαντα καταστῆναι πάντων
THE TWO SYMPOSIUM MYTHS 423
Man ought to be and do; for, methinks, when he possesseth
the Beautiful One and converseth with him, or being absent
remembereth him, that is brought to birth which long-time
before was conceived ; and that which is born these two together
rear, so that they have a stronger bond betwixt them than
children after the flesh, and a surer friendship than spouses,
inasmuch as they have in common fairer and more immortal
children. Who would not rather have born unto him such
children than children after the flesh? Who, having con-
sidered Homer and Hesiod and the other great poets, account-
eth them not blessed, in that they have children which, being
themselves immortal, bestow on their parents immortal fame
and remembrance for evermore? as do also, she said, the chil-
dren which Lycurgus left behind in Lacedaemon, saviours of
Lacedaemon, yea of Greece ; and amongst you of Athens, she
said, Solon is held in honour because of the laws which he
begat ; and in many other places, both throughout Greece and
amongst the barbarians, are men honoured for the fair works
which they have brought to light, and the diverse virtues
which they have begotten—yea, even worshipped, because of
these their children; but because of children after the flesh
hath no man been worshipped.
Into these Lesser Mysteries of Eros, peradventure, mightest
thou, even thou Socrates, be initiated; but his Greater Mys-
teries of the End and the Perfect Vision, for whose sake, if
any man shall pursue after them in the right way, these Lesser
Mysteries are performed, I know not if thou art able to receive.
Nevertheless, she said, I will do what in me lies to open them
unto thee; do thou endeavour to follow if thou canst.
He who would rightly approach this Initiation whereof I
now speak must begin in his youth, and come near unto Beau-
tiful Bodies: and first, if his leader lead him aright, he will
be smitten with love of one of these, and will straightway of
his love engender Beautiful Discourse. Thereafter he will
perceive of himself without instruction that the Beauty which
belongeth to any Corporeal Body is kin to the Beauty of
another ; and that if the Specifick Beauty is that which must
be sought after, ‘twould be foolishness to think that the Beauty
which belongeth to all Bodies is not one and the same. When
he hath comprehended this he must needs become the lover of
424 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
a κ᾿ , > / ΟΝ \ \ / a
τῶν καλῶν σωμάτων ἐραστήν, ἑνὸς δὲ TO σφόδρα τοῦτο
/ \ / \
χαλάσαι καταφρονήσαντα Kal σμικρὸν ἡγησάμενον" μετὰ
\ a \ > “-“ a / , ς /
δὲ ταῦτα τὸ ἐν ταῖς ψυχαῖς κάλλος τιμιώτερον ἡγήσασθαι
a > Ὁ , “ \ ἮΝ 3 \ x \ /
τοῦ ἐν τῷ σώματι, ὥστε καὶ ἐὰν ἐπιεικὴς BY THY WuynyY
\ a \ »” θ » ᾿] a ᾽ a \ os
τις καὶ [ἐὰν] σμικρὸν ἄνθος ἔχῃ, ἐξαρκεῖν αὐτῷ Kal ἐρᾶν
Ν / \ ,ὔ / / \ lal
καὶ κήδεσθαι καὶ τίκτειν λόγους τοιούτους καὶ Enter,
“ A / \ / “ > ” 5
οἵτινες ποιήσουσι βελτίους τοὺς νέους, ἵνα ἀναγκασθῇ αὖ
7 \ “ lal b / \ -“ / \
θεάσασθαι τὸ ἐν τοῖς ἐπιτηδεύμασι Kal τοῖς νόμοις καλὸν
\ a » a Ὁ ca) δ Ὁ Ἃς ς A / > “ Ν
καὶ τοῦτο ἰδεῖν, ὅτι πᾶν αὐτὸ αὑτῷ ξυγγενές ἐστιν, ἵνα τὸ
\ \ r ἣν, e / “. Ν
περὶ τὸ σῶμα καλὸν σμικρόν TL ἡγήσηται εἶναι" μετὰ δὲ
\ > / ee" \ > / > a “ » Φ
τὰ ἐπιτηδεύματα ἐπὶ τὰς ἐπιστήμας ἀγαγεῖν, ἵνα ἴδῃ αὖ
ἐπιστημῶν κάλλος, καὶ βλέπων πρὸς πολὺ ἤδη τὸ καλὸν
, ; A ’ ᾿ ee na ,
Ρ μηκέτι τῷ Tap ἑνί, ὥσπερ οἰκέτης, ἀγαπῶν παιδαρίου
211
>
κάλλος ἢ ἀνθρώπου τινὸς ἢ ἐπιτηδεύματος ἑνὸς δουλεύων
>
φαῦλος 7 Kal σμικρολόγος, ἀλλ᾽ ἐπὶ TO πολὺ πέλαγος
/ la) \
τετραμμένος TOD καλοῦ Kal θεωρῶν πολλοὺς Kal καλοὺς
/ \ lal / \ / ᾽
λόγους καὶ μεγαλοπρεπεῖς τίκτῃ καὶ διανοήματα ἐν
7 / fa) \
φιλοσοφίᾳ ἀφθόνῳ, ἕως ἂν ἐνταῦθα ῥωσθεὶς καὶ αὐξηθεὶς
ὃ \ 5» / / / Ὁ“ > ~
κατίδῃ τινὰ ἐπιστήμην μίαν τοιαύτην, ἥ ἐστι καλοῦ
τοιοῦδε' ἸΠειρῶ δέ ἔ ὃ ῦ σέ ; ‘6
D ρῶ δέ μοι, ἔφη, τὸν νοῦν προσέχειν ὡς οἷόν
7
τε μάλιστα.
Ὃ \ xX / " DO \ \ 53 \ ὃ
ς γὰρ ἂν μέχρι ἐνταῦθα πρὸς τὰ ἐρωτικὰ παιδαγω-
a / - >, r \ \
γηθῆ, θεώμενος ἐφεξῆς τε Kal ὀρθῶς Ta καλά, πρὸς τέλος
"ὃ ὟΝ rn ᾽ al 5] / / / \
ἤδη ἰὼν τῶν ἐρωτικῶν ἐξαίφνης κατόψεταί τι θαυμαστὸν
/ a a S / \
τὴν φύσιν καλόν, τοῦτο ἐκεῖνο, ὦ Σώκρατες, οὗ δὴ ἕνεκεν
\ ΄ » 7 / = lal \ δ x
καὶ of ἔμπροσθεν πάντες πόνοι ἦσαν, πρῶτον μὲν ἀεὶ ὃν
\ ” ’ ” > AAV ” > /
Kal οὔτε γιγνόμενον οὔτε ἀπολλύμενον, οὔτε αὐξανόμενον
a 7 \ / A > / \
οὔτε φθῖνον, ἔπειτα ov TH μὲν καλόν, TH δ᾽ αἰσχρόν, οὐδὲ
\ / \ δ᾽ ” ὑδὲ Ν \ \ / \ δὲ \
τοτὲ μέν, τοτὲ οὔ, οὐδὲ πρὸς μὲν τὸ καλόν, πρὸς δὲ τὸ
, / >>? ΝΜ \ / ” \ > / σ“
αἰσχρόν, οὐδ᾽ ἔνθα μὲν καλόν, ἔνθα δὲ αἰσχρὸν, ὥς τισι
> ’ ’ /
μὲν ὃν καλόν, τισὶ δὲ αἰσχρόν. οὐδ᾽ αὖ φαντασθήσεται
- / / \ r \ Μ
αὐτῷ τὸ καλὸν οἷον πρόσωπόν τι οὐδὲ χεῖρες οὐδὲ ἄλλο
7% \ Φ᾿ a / »>O/ / »O/ > /
οὐδὲν ὧν σῶμα μετέχει, οὐδέ τις λόγος οὐδέ τις ἐπιστήμη
THE TWO SYMPOSTUM MYTHS 425
all Beautiful Bodies, and his vehement love of the one Body
he will remit, despising it now and thinking it a small thing.
Thereafter cometh the time when he deemeth the Beauty that
is in Souls more precious than the Beauty in the Body; so
that if any one hath some goodness of Soul, but little comeli-
ness of Body, such an one pleaseth him well, and he loveth
him and careth for him, and in companionship with him
bringeth to birth, and seeketh after, such Discourse as shall
make young men better; seeking after this, he is constrained
to survey that Beauty which is in Morals and Laws, and seeth
clearly that it is all of one kindred. Apprehending this
Beauty, he must needs deem the Beauty of the Body a small
thing.
After Morals, behold him next led up to Sciences, that he
may see their Beauty; and looking at Beauty now widely ex-
tended, may no longer be as a bondman, mean and paltry,
enslaved unto the Beauty of one,—unto the Beauty of some
boy, or man, or custom,—but having turned him unto the
Great Sea of Beauty, and looking upon it, may bring forth
many Arguments fair and high, many Thoughts out of the
fulness of Philosophy, until, having been there strengthened
and increased, he can discern that One Science which com-
prehendeth that One Beauty. Now, I beseech thee, she
said, hearken, as diligently as thou canst, to my words and
understand them.
Whosoever hath been led by his preceptor thus far into
the Mysteries of Eros, and hath surveyed beautiful things in
the right order, when he cometh at last to the end of his
Initiation, on a sudden shall behold a marvel, a Thing of
Beauty, That Thing, Socrates, for whose sake all the former
labours were endured—That Which Alway Is, without genera-
tion or destruction, or increase or decrease; which is not, on
this side, or at this time, beautiful, and on that side, or at that
time, deformed ; in comparison with one thing, beautiful, and
with another thing, deformed; in one place beautiful, and in
another, deformed; beautiful in the eyes of one man, and in
the eyes of another, deformed. Nor will the Thing of Beauty
appear unto him as a countenance, or as hands, or as aught
which Corporeal Body hath belonging unto it; nor as any
Speech, or Science, nor as that which is somewhere in some
426 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
, rn
ὑδέ x ᾽ € / / φ: > / x ΕΥ >
οὐδὲ που ov ἐν ἑτέρῳ τινί, οἷον ἐν Cow ἢ ἐν γῇ ἢ ἐν
“A x ” \ A > \ > fa
Βοὐρανῷ ἢ ἔν Tw ἄλλῳ, ἀλλὰ αὐτὸ καθ᾽ αὑτὸ μεθ᾽ αὑτοῦ
\ aN v » δὲ A / \ ᾽ / /
μονοειδὲς ἀεὶ ὄν, Ta δὲ ἄλλα πάντα καλὰ ἐκείνου μετέχοντα
/ \ rn 7 nr ΝΜ.
τρόπον τινὰ τοιοῦτον, οἷον γιγνομένων τε τῶν ἄλλων καὶ
> / δὲ > a / / / EX.
ἀπολλυμένων μηὸὲεν ἐκεῖνο μὴτε TL πλέον μὴτε ἔλαττον
/ \ / / “ / > \ lal
γίγνεσθαι μηδὲ πάσχειν μηδέν. ὅταν δή Tis ἀπὸ τῶνδε
ὃ \ Ν 2 θῶ ὃ a ? \ > a \ Ν »
ta τὸ ὀρθῶς παιδεραστεῖν ἐπανιὼν ἐκεῖνο τὸ καλὸν ἄρχη-
“ \ / / lal / lal \
tat καθορᾶν, σχεδὸν ἄν τι ἅπτοιτο τοῦ τέλους. τοῦτο yap
δή 2 \ > AG - % \ bd] \ 5. x ς > ” »”
C07 ἐστι TO ορθως ETL TA ἐρωτικὰ ἱέναι ἢ UT ἄλλου ἄγε-
/ lal rn lal / “ cal
σθαι, ἀρχόμενον ἀπὸ τῶνδε τῶν καλῶν ἐκείνου ἕνεκα TOU
a \ , 4 val , > \
καλοῦ ἀεὶ ἐπανιέναι, ὥσπερ ἐπαναβασμοῖς χρώμενον, ἀπὸ
es ie N / \ > 4 fal ae" / \ \ ,
ἑνὸς ἐπὶ δύο καὶ ἀπὸ δυεῖν ἐπὶ πάντα Ta καλὰ σώματα,
\ > \ al a / a \ \ > /
καὶ ἀπὸ TOV καλῶν σωμάτων ἐπὶ τὰ καλὰ ἐπιτηδεύματα,
ἌΝ π᾿ 5 A > 7, 5. ἃ \ \ f
Kal ἀπὸ TOV καλῶν ἐπιτηδευμάτων ἐπὶ τὰ καλὰ μηθήματα,
»Μ » ΕΝ 3 \ lal / ᾽ 9 > n \ 10
ἔστ ἂν ἀπὸ τῶν μαθημάτων ἐπ᾽ ἐκεῖνο TO μάθημα τελευ-
/ 4 > > ” x ᾽ lal b] / a a
TNO, ὁ ἐστιν οὐκ ἄλλου ἢ αὑτοῦ ἐκείνου τοῦ καλοῦ
“- ral A / / 5 cal
Ὁ μάθημα, Kal yuo αὐτὸ τελευτῶν ὃ ἔστι καλόν. ᾿Ενταῦθα
lal / > \ /
τοῦ βίου, ὦ φίλε Σώκρατες, ἔφη ἡ Μαντινικὴ ξένη, εἴπερ
Ν / \ \ / a
που ἄλλοθι, βιωτὸν ἀνθρώπῳ, θεωμένῳ αὐτὸ TO καλόν. ὃ
»,2 ἴὃ > \ / \ ’ fal \ \
ἐάν ποτε ἴδῃς, οὐ κατὰ χρυσίον Te Kal ἐσθῆτα Kal τοὺς
\ δά Ν , 56 J ἃ “A
καλοὺς παῖδάς τε Kal νεανίσκους δόξει σοι εἶναι, ods νῦν
a. / \ \ Y /
ὁρῶν ἐκπέπληξαι καὶ ἕτοιμος εἶ Kal σὺ Kal ἄλλοι πολλοί,
cs \ ὃ \ \ / oo’ > - ” 16 »
ὁρῶντες τὰ παιδικὰ καὶ ξυνόντες ἀεὶ αὐτοῖς, εἴ πως οἷον τ
/ / / / \ a /
ἦν, μήτε ἐσθίειν μήτε πίνειν, ἀλλὰ θεᾶσθαι μόνον καὶ
a / δῆ » 5. " / ee \
ξυνεῖναι. τί δῆτα, ἔφη, οἰόμεθα, εἴ Tw γένοιτο αὐτὸ TO
a > / / \ \ > /
Ε καλὸν ἰδεῖν εἰλικρινές, καθαρόν, ἄμικτον, ἀλλὰ μὴ ἀνάπλεων
lal > θ / ‘ / \ ” XxX a
σαρκῶν τε ἀνθρωπίνων καὶ χρωμάτων καὶ ἄλλης πολλῆς
- \ a \ /
φλυαρίας θνητῆς, ἀλλ᾿ αὐτὸ τὸ θεῖον καλὸν δύναιτο
A b a / /
μονοειδὲς κατιδεῖν ; ap οἴει, ἔφη, φαῦλον βίον γίγνεσθαι
“ “Ὁ να “A / \
212 ἐκεῖσε βλέποντος ἀνθρώπου κἀκεῖνο ᾧ Set θεωμένου καὶ
/ > a A > b 0 a ΝΜ Ὁ > Ne) > a
Evvovtos αὐτῷ; ἢ οὐκ ἐνθυμεῖ, ἔφη, ὅτε ἐνταῦθα αὐτῷ
΄σ [ὦ al e \ \ / / >
μοναχοῦ γενήσεται, ὁρῶντι ᾧ ὁρατὸν τὸ καλόν, τίκτειν οὐκ
a / ᾽ > 5 -
εἴδωλα ἀρετῆς, ἅτε οὐκ εἰδώλου ἐφαπτομένῳ, ἀλλ᾽ ἀληθῆ,
lal -“ 7 / \ , \ > lel \
ἅτε τοῦ ἀληθοῦς ἐφαπτομένῳ, τεκόντι δὲ ἀρετὴν ἀληθῆ καὶ
, - / / »” »
θρεψαμένῳ ὑπάρχει θεοφιλεῖ γενέσθαι καί, εἴπερ τῳ ἄλλῳ
’
ἀνθρώπων, ἀθανάτῳ καὶ ἐκείνῳ ;
THE TWO SYMPOSTUM MYTHS 427
other thing, as in a living creature, or in earth, or in heaven,
or in any other thing; but he shall see It as That which Is
in Itself, with Itself, of one Form, Eternal; and all the other
beautiful things he shall see as partaking of It after such
manner that, while they come into being and perish, It be-
cometh not a whit greater or less, nor suffereth any change at
all, ’Tis when a man ascendeth from these beautiful things
by the Right Way of Love, and beginneth to have sight of that
Kternal Beauty,—’tis then, methinks, that he toucheth the goal.
For this is the right Way to go into the Mysteries of Eros, or
to be led by another—beginning from the beautiful things here,
to mount up alway unto that Eternal Beauty, using these things
as the steps of a ladder—ascending from one to two, and from
two to all, Beautiful Bodies, and from Beautiful Bodies to
Beautiful Customs, and from Beautiful Customs to Beautiful
Doctrines, and from these till at last, being come unto that
which is the Doctrine of the Eternal Beauty and of naught else
beside, he apprehendeth what Beauty Itself is. “Tis then, dear
Socrates, said the Woman of Mantinea, that life is worth living,
and then only, when a man cometh to behold Beauty Itself; the
which if thou hast once seen, thou wilt hold wealth, and fine
raiment, and fair companions, as naught in comparison with it
—yea, those fair companions whom thou now lookest upon
with amazement, and art ready—thou and many others of thy
like—to pass your lives with them, gazing upon them, and, if
it were possible, neither eating nor drinking, but only behold-
ing them and being with them alway. What thinkest thou,
then, she said, if a man could see Beauty Itself, clear, pure,
Separate, not gross with human flesh, and tainted with colours,
and decked out with perishing gauds—what thinkest thou, if
he could behold Beauty Itself, divine, uniform? Thinkest
thou, she said, that it would be a paltry life for a man to live,
looking unto that, beholding it with the faculty meet therefor,
and being with it alway? Understandest thou not that thus
only shall he be able, seeing with that whereby Beauty is seen,
to bring forth, not Images of Virtue—for ’tis no Image that he
layeth hold of,—but Things True—for he layeth hold of That
which is True ; and when he hath brought forth True Virtue
and nurtured her, understandest thou not that then he hath
become above all men beloved of God, and himself immortal !
428 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
OBSERVATIONS ON THE DISCOURSE OF DIOTIMA
Z
The Myth in which Diotima sets forth the parentage and
nature of Eros differs in style from the Myth of the Round
People told by Aristophanes, as widely as it is possible for one
composition to differ from another. If the Myth of the Round
People is so barbarously grotesque that one has difficulty in
recognising it as a Platonic Myth, Diotima’s Myth is equally
hard to bring under that designation, on account of the pre-
valence of philosophical allegory in its style. It is, indeed, in
its first part simply a philosophical allegory’ setting forth
pictorially an analysis of Love into elements which are seen
to be identical with those given by an analysis of Philosophy.
"Eps is neither ἸΠόρος nor Πενία, but the child of these two;
φιλοσοφία is neither ἀμαθία nor σοφία, but the outcome of
both. This point, however, once reached by the way of alle-
gory thinly disguising the results of previous analysis, Diotima’s
Discourse henceforward assumes the character of true Myth, if
not in its matter—for no further narrative is added—yet cer-
tainly in its essential form: it becomes an imaginative develop-
ment of the notion of φιλοσοφία: φιλοσοφία is set forth as
the Desire of Immortality. Philosophy is not merely a System
of Knowledge, but a Life, nay, the Life Eternal—the true Life
of the immortal Soul. Diotima’s Discourse thus ends in the
character of a true Myth, setting forth in impassioned imagina-
tive language the Transcendental Idea of the Soul. It is out
of the mood which expresses itself in, and is encouraged by,
such impassioned imaginative language that prophetic visions
arise, and great Myths about the Soul’s creation, wanderings,
and goal. JDiotima’s Discourse in its latter, non-allegorical,
1 Plotinus, nn, iii. 5, may be read for an elaborate interpretation of Diotima’s
Allegory :—Zeus is νοῦς, Aphrodite is ψυχή, Poros is λόγος, Penia is ὕλη; and
much more to the same effect. Cf. Cudworth, Intellectual System, vol. ii. p. 379
(ed. Mosheim and Harrison).
2 See Zeller’s Plato, pp. 191-196 (Eng. Tr.), for the connection made, in the
Phaedrus and Symposium, between Eros and Philosophy ; and, especially p. 194,
n. 66, for the meaning of Diotima’s Discourse, and a protest against the Neo-
Platonic interpretation of its meaning adopted by Jahn in his Diss, Plat. 64 ff.
and 249 ff,
THE TWO SYMPOSIUM MYTHS 429
part we must regard as a true Myth—although it has no
story, no pictures,—because we feel that it might at any
moment break out into the language of prophetic vision.
Its identification of Love and Philosophy is intended to
bring home to the Imagination the great Platonic doctrine
that Philosophy is Life. The outline, or ideal, presented here,
without articulation, to the Imagination, is articulated, still
for the Imagination, in the astronomical Eschatology of the
Phaedrus Myth; and for the Understanding, in the account
given in the Republic! of the Philosophic Nature and of the
Education which it needs. <A vast non-articulated ideal, like
that held up by Diotima in the latter part of her Discourse,
lends itself easily to either kind of articulation—it may be
articulated in an abstract way as a great system of laws, or
pictorially, as a group of symbols making an Allegory which,
because it is so vast, easily assumes the character of Myth.
And Myth may be painted as well as spoken. As a scheme
of education, articulating for the Imagination the Ideal of
“Philosophy is Life,” the Spanish Chapel fresco, which has
already” been instanced as a painted Myth, may well be
placed beside the scheme set forth for the Understanding in
the Republic. The details in the fresco are the result of
minute analysis of the elements which constitute true educa-
tion; but they are so presented to the eye as to reveal to its
intuition the spiritual bond which unites them together in
one meaning—in one λόγος τῆς μίξεως which transcends the
parts. Faith, Hope, and Charity are hovering in the sky, and
beneath them, also in the sky, are Courage, Temperance, Justice,
Prudence. Beneath these are seated in a row ten Prophets
and Apostles, with S. Thomas Aquinas on a throne in the
middle. Beneath these again sit the Sciences Divine and
Natural, fourteen of them; and beneath each Science sits her
greatest earthly Teacher.
The separate figures are symbols, and form groups which
1 485 Bff. That the scheme of education in the Republic articulates for the
Understanding an outline, or ideal, presented to the Imagination is plainly
admitted. The scheme is called a Myth—as 3768, ἴθι οὖν, ὥσπερ ἐν μύθῳ
μυθολογοῦντές Te Kal σχολὴν ἄγοντες λόγῳ παιδεύομεν τοὺς ἄνδρας : and 501k,
ἡ πολιτεία ἣν μυθολογοῦμεν λόγῳ: and see Couturat, de Plat. Mythis, p. 50—
‘**Respublica tota ex ipsius auctoris sententia mythica est: cf. Tim. 26 Ὁ,
Remp. 420 c, 536 B, c, 376 D, 501 B, 443 B, c.”
2 Supra, pp. 114 and 257.
480 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
may be interpreted as Allegories, but the whole picture which
contains them is a Myth.
It is difficult, as I have pointed out before, to distinguish,
in the work of a great creative artist, between Allegory and
Myth. Allegory, consciously employed as such by a man of
genius, always tends to pass into Myth. In dealing with
this point I have said that Plato’s Cave, carefully constructed
as it is in all its detail, like the Spanish Chapel fresco, to
give a picture of results already in the possession of its
author, is, beyond all that, a wonder for the eye of Imagina-
tion to be grasped in one impression. Beneath the inter-
pretation of the Allegory we are aware of the enigma of the
Myth. Plato, we feel, had seen the whole before he began to
articulate the parts. Perhaps, as I ventured to suppose, some
weird scene in a Syracusan quarry gave the first suggestion.
I said that, although the former part of Diotima’s Dis-
course is an Allegory, the latter part has the true character-
istic of the Myth, setting forth, without narrative or pictures
indeed, but in impassioned imaginative language, the Tran-
scendental Idea of the Soul. It is only by accident, we feel,
that the Discourse does not break out into the language of
prophetic vision.
The Diotima of this Discourse may be taken as a study
of the Prophetic Temperament.
Let me try to bring out the essential nature of this
temperament by making some passages in Spinoza’s Tractatus
Theologico-Politicus do service as a commentary on Plato’s
study. To appreciate the nature of the prophetic tempera-
ment and the use of prophecy as determined by the great
Jewish critic—he was one of the founders of biblical criticism
—is, I think, to go far towards appreciating the function of
Myth in Plato’s Philosophy.
The passages to which I refer are in the first and
second chapters of the 7'ractatus Theologico-Politicus. Spinoza
begins by distinguishing teachers of natural science from
prophets. Although natural science is divine, its teachers
cannot be called prophets; for what the teachers of natural
science impart as certain, other men receive as certain, and
that not merely on authority but of their own knowledge.
It is by the faculty of Imagination that prophets are dis-
THE TWO SYMPOSIUM MYTHS 431
tinguished from teachers of natural science. By Imagination
prophets perceive the revelations of God and transcend the
limits of the Scientific Understanding. This is why they
impart what they perceive almost always in parables, express-
ing spiritual truths by means of sensible images; for this
is the method which their faculty naturally prescribes.
Prophets are not endowed with a more perfect Intelligence,
but with a more vivid Imagination than other men. Pro-
phecy, as it depends on Imagination, does not per se involve
certainty : prophets are not made certain of the revelation of
God by the revelation itself, but by a sign. Thus Abraham
(Genesis xv. 8), on hearing the promise of God, asked for a
sign. He, indeed, believed God, and did not ask for a sign
in order that he might believe God, but in order that he
might know that the thing was actually promised to him by
God.‘ Herein prophecy is inferior to natural knowledge,
which needs no sign, but has its certainty in itself. The
prophet’s certainty is not metaphysical but moral. The
prophet may be recognised by three marks: (1) he imagines
the things revealed as vividly as if they were objects of
waking sense, (2) he needs a sign, and (3)—-and chiefly—he
has a mind inclined to that which is just and good. Though
this may seem to show that prophecy and revelation are un-
certain, yet they have much that is certain; for God never
deceives pious men, “ His Elect.” He uses them as instru-
ments of His goodness, as he uses the wicked as instruments
of His wrath. Now, since the signs are merely to persuade
the prophet in a matter where the certainty is not meta-
physical but moral, it follows that the signs are suited to the
opinions and capacity of the prophet; and the revelation (1.6.
the thing imagined) varies with the temperament (gay or sad),
and the beliefs, of the prophet. The conclusion of all is that
prophecy never adds to the knowledge of the prophet or of
others, but leaves them in their preconceived opinions; so
that, in merely speculative matters, we are not at all bound
to believe prophets; but in matters which concern righteous-
ness and moral character we are.”
1 Similarly, miracles do not make us believe in the existence of God. We
must believe in the existence of God before we can believe in the occurrence of
miracles.
2 Prophecy, says Professor P. Gardner (Jowett Lectures, 1901, p. 117), ‘is
482 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
I offer no particular remarks on the foregoing passage,
but merely recommend it to the attention of the reader, as
defining the use of Prophecy in a manner similar to that in
which I think the use of the Platonic Myth ought to be
defined.
With Spinoza’s view of the end of Prophecy, Henry More’s
view of the end of Scripture has much in common. The in-
terpretation of the literal text, he explains," must always
depend on what we have learned from Philosophy, not from
Scripture ; but the sole end of the Scripture is the furthering
of the Holy Life.
Similarly, John Smith says,’ “ Christ’s main scope was to
promote an Holy Life as the best and most compendious way
to a right Belief. He hangs all true acquaintance with
Divinity upon the doing God’s will. If any man will do his
will he shall know the doctrine, whether it be of God.”
This view of the meaning of Prophecy, and generally of
inspired scriptures, held by the Cambridge Platonists in in-
dependent agreement with Spinoza, is one which finds much
favour at the present day among those critical students of
the Bible whose paramount interest is still in religion as a
practical concern. Their teaching on the subject of “ inspira-
tion” and “ divine revelation,” in my view, throws much light
on the subject of this work. I would summarise my advice
to those who wish to realise for themselves the function of
the Platonic Myth as follows :—After reading Plato’s Myths,
each one in its own context, seal the effect of the whole by
reading the work of some other great master of Myth—best
of all the Divina Commedia; then turn to the writings of
those modern critics of the Bible whose paramount interest is
still in religion as a practical concern. Were the student to
undertake the last-mentioned part of this programme, he
would probably find the word “inspiration” a difficulty. He
would probably think that the use made of the word by the
based on insight, and sees not future events but the tendency of existing forces,
and looks beneath the surface of the present and sees its true inwardness... .
The Jewish prophet dealt far less with the future than with the present. He
was first al foremost a teacher of righteousness—one who explained the pur-
poses of God and made his ways bare to man. He was, in fact, a preacher.”
1 Appendix to the Defence of the Philosophick Cabbala, ch, xii., especially § 3,
pp- 150, 151, ed. 1662.
2 Select Discowrses (1660), p. 9 (ὙΠῸ True Way or Method of attaining
Divine Knowledge’’), and ef. pp. 169 ff. (‘‘ Of Prophesie”’).
THE TWO SYMPOSTUM MYTHS 433
critics is vague and uncertain, But let him remember that
Plato's use of the corresponding ἔρως (especially where épws
and φιλοσοφία are identified, as in Diotima’s Discourse) is
equally vague. Precision is not to be looked for in the
description of such a condition or gift. Indeed, Diotima’s
φιλοσοφία is perhaps even more vague than the “ inspiration ”
of these critics; for the former is the condition of an in-
dividual, while the community rather than the individual is
the recipient of the latter—‘“It is not the individual 80
much as the society or community which is the recipient of
divine inspiration,” says Professor P. Gardner,’ interpreting
Ritschl. While the “inspiration” of the individual is an
abnormal condition, difficult to describe psychologically, and
still more difficult to estimate in respect of “value,” the
“inspiration” received by a community is something which
can be definitely reviewed, being the series of ideas of better-
ment which spring up in the community one after another
and actually determine its development. The historian may
find it difficult to show how this idea or that arose; but he
can generally describe the circumstances in which, having
arisen, it “caught on” and became an effective factor in the
development of the community. The “idea of emancipating
slaves” may serve as an example of what is meant when the
“inspiration received by a community” is spoken of; and a
prophet is one who can put such an idea before his contem-
poraries so vividly that it must perforce, sooner or later,
realise itself in practice. When we look back over the past
life of a nation we see how true it is that the grain of
mustard seed becomes the great tree. How the seed came we
seldom can tell; it isso small that we should not even have
noticed it at all, unless the tree had grown out of it. We
rather infer it from the tree; and if the tree is good we are
apt to think of the seed as “divinely implanted” in some
special way. What we can trace clearly to antecedents we
do not regard with religious feeling; but when we come to
some little inexplicable thing, which we recognise, after the
1 Jowett Lectures, p. 270. Expressing his own view Professor Gardner says :
“ΤῸ may be that in this matter Ritsch] goes too far, for, after all, it is only in
the consciousness of individuals that divine inspiration can be realised ; religious
utterances must come from individuals ; and the will of individuals must lead
society in the right way: nevertheless there is profound and most important
truth in the recognition of the divine mission of the society.”
2F
434 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
event, as source of great things, we say that it comes by
divine dispensation—@eia μοίρᾳ.
As the influence of the new biology makes itself more
and more felt in the field of historical study, we may expect
that the doctrine of “ inspiration received by the community ”
will recommend itself more and more to religious minds, as a
solution of the difficulty which few indeed are content to put
by wholly—the difficulty of conceiving how the development
of beautifully articulated organisms can take place along lines
opened up by “accidental variations.” This difficulty the
new biology has brought home to us thoroughly, by showing
us how decisive is the part played in evolution by these
“accidental variations” among the factors which maintain
the moving equilibrium of life. The objections which stand
in the way of accepting the alternative solution—Weismann’s
theory, which explains “accidental variations” as provided for
in the original germ-plasma—seem to be at least as formid-
able as those which might be brought against the theory of
“divine inspiration of which the community or race is the
recipient.”
ΤΊ
EXCURSUS ON THE HISTORY OF THE DOCTRINE OF DAEMONS
(Symposium, 202 E)
The doctrine, here enunciated, of δαίμονες who perform
the office of interpreters and mediators between the Gods and
Men, played a great part in the History of Religious Belief.
In its original sense δαίμων is synonymous with θεός,
and means simply “a divine immortal being.” But Hesiod’s
δαίμονες ἁγνοὶ émvyPovior’ introduced a specification of the
term. These δαίμονες ἐπιχθόνιοι are indeed “ divine immortal
beings,” but they are not ἐπουράνιοι or Ὄλυμπον ἔχοντες,
“divine immortal beings who dwell in Heaven”; they dwell
in “the parts about the Earth,’* and more especially “in the
Air.” They are, in fact, the disembodied spirits of the men of
a long past age—the Golden Age. When these men died,
1 0. et D. 108.
? The region described as περὶ γῆν in Phaedrus, 257 A.
THE TWO SYMPOSIUM MYTHS 435
their bodies were buried; but their immortal spirits remained
in the neighbourhood of the Earth, and will ever remain
there, to be the Guardians and Patrons of mortal men :-—
χρύσεον μὲν πρώτιστα γένος μερόπων ἀνθρώπων
ἀθάνατοι ποίησαν ᾿Ολύμπια δώματ᾽ ἔχοντες,
« ‘ ϑ > f 7 “ » ’ - ,
οἱ μὲν ἐπὶ Κρόνου ἦσαν, ὅτ᾽ οὐρανῷ ἐμβασίλευεν,
« ΔΝ ‘ / ; o- κ᾿ ”
ὡς δὲ θεοὶ ζώεσκον, ἀκηδέα θυμὸν ἔχοντες,
’ ν / ‘4 due ’ sar “4Ὃὁ ’
νόσφιν ἄτερθε πόνων καὶ ὀϊζύος" οὐδέ τι δειλόν
γῆρας ἐπῆν" αἰεὶ δὲ πόδας καὶ χεῖρας ὁμοῖοι
,ὔ " , ’ “Ὁ " " ’
τέρποντ᾽ ἐν θαλίῃσι κακῶν ἔκτοσθεν ἁπάντων.
ἴω ) ε “’ἤ 4 , 5 as ,
θνῆσκον δ᾽ ws ὕπνῳ δεδμημένοι" ἐσθλὰ δὲ πάντα
- » ,
τοῖσιν env’ καρπὸν δ᾽ ἔφερε ζείδωρος ἄρουρα
" ’ / ‘ ν Ls ΓΚ] » ,
αὐτομάτη πολλόν τε Kat ἄφθονον" οἱ δ᾽ ἐθελημοί
ἥσυχοι ἔργα νέμοντο σὺν ἐσθλοῖσιν πολέεσσιν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπειδὴ τοῦτο γένος κατὰ γαῖα κάλυψεν,
οἱ μὲν δαίμονες ἁγνοὶ ἐπιχθόνιοι καλέονται,
ἐσθλοί, ἀλεξίκακοι, φύλακες θνητῶν ἀνθρώπων,
΄“" / * ”
πλουτοδόται" καὶ τοῦτο γέρας βασιλήϊον exxov.!
When the men of the Silver Age died, their spirits went
under the Earth. They became ὑποχθόνιοι μάκαρες θνητοί *
—a difficult phrase, on which Rohde may be consulted.® They
too, although their works on Earth were displeasing to the
Gods, receive honour and worship from men.
The third age was that of the Copper Men. They did
evil on Earth, and went down nameless to the black pit of
Hades.*
The fourth age was that of the Heroes— those who
fought at Thebes and Troy. Some of them died; some of
them were translated in the flesh to the Islands of the
Blessed, where they enjoy everlasting felicity :-—
τοὺς μὲν θανάτου τέλος ἀμφεκάλυψε,
- ἊΝ δι 3 , ’ Ὁ ” > > /
τοῖς δὲ δίχ᾽ ἀνθρώπων βίοτον καὶ ἠθὲ ὀπάσσας
Ζεὺς Κρονίδης κατένασσε πατὴρ ἐς πείρατα γαίης"
καὶ τοὶ μὲν ναίουσιν ἀκηδέα θυμὸν ἔχοντες
» , , >> “ ΄
ἐν μακάρων νήσοισι, παρ᾽ ᾿ῶκεανὸν βαθυδίνην,
ὄλβιοι ἥρωες: τοῖσιν μελιηδέα καρπόν
\ ” barr / [ὃ ” 5
τρὶς ἔτεος θάλλοντα φέρει ζείδωρος ἄρουρα.
The fifth age is the present—that of the Men of Iron.°
No one who reads the Cratylus, 397 pb ff, where the
1 0. εἰ D. 97 ff. 70.4D.1
3 Psyche, i. 99-102. 4 0. & D. 137 fff.
5 0. et D. 150 ff. © 0.aD. 16
436 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
etymology of δαίμονες is discussed and Hesiod’s verses about
the δαίμονες ἐπιχθόνιοι are quoted, and the Laws, iv. 713,
and Politicus, 272, where the Myth of the Golden Age of
Cronus, when δαίμονες ruled over men, is told, can fail to see
that the Hesiodic account of δαίμονες has a great hold on
Plato’s imagination ; and it may be that even the φύλακες of
the Republic—men with gold in their nature (as the ἐπίκουροι
have silver, and the artisans and husbandmen have copper
and iron)—are somehow, in Plato’s imagination, parallel to
Hesiod’s φύλακες θνητῶν ἀνθρώπων, the spirits of the men
of the Golden Age." But we must not forget that there is a
difference between Plato’s δαίμονες of the Laws and Politicus
and of Diotima’s Discourse, and Hesiod’s δαέμονες, which is
greater than the obvious resemblance. Hesiod’s δαίμονες
ἐπιχθόνιοι are the spirits of deceased men—as are Pindar’s
ἥρωες ἁγνοί (Meno, 81 c); but the δαίμονες of the Laws
and Politicus, who rule over men in the Golden Age, are not
spirits of deceased men, but beings of an entirely different
order—Gods, who were created Gods, to whom provinces on
Earth were assigned by the Supreme God—oi κατὰ τοὺς
τόπους συνάρχοντες τῷ μεγίστῳ δαίμονι θεοί, as they are
described in Politicus, 272; and in Diotima’s Discourse τὸ
δαιμόνιον, headed by Eros, is clearly set forth as an order of
divine beings essentially superhuman, not spirits of deceased
men. They are, I take it, of the same rank as, indeed prob-
ably identical with, the γεννητοὶ θεοί of the Zimaeus—
created before men, to he managers of human affairs on behalf
of the Supreme God.? In Rep. v. 468 &, on the other hand,
1 This parallel is suggested by Mr. Adam ina note on Republic, 468 Ἐ, and
worked out by Mr. F. M. Cornford in an interesting article on ‘‘ Plato and
Orpheus” in The Classical Review, December 1903.
2 Chalcidius, in his Commentary on the Timaeus, is at pains to show (cap.
exxxy.) that the Platonic δαίμονες and the Souls of deceased men are two dis-
tinct orders :—“ Plerique tamen ex Platonis magisterio, daemonas putant animas
corporeo munere liberatas: laudabilium quoque virorum aethereos daemonas,
improborum vero nocentes, easdemque animas anno demum millesimo terrenum
corpus resumere. Kmpedoclesque non aliter longaevos daemonas fieri has animas
putat. Pythagoras etiam in suis aureis versibus :
Corpore deposito cum liber aethera perges,
Evades hominem factus deus aetheris almi.
Quibus Plato consentire minime videtur, cum in Politia tyranni animam facit
excruciari post mortem ab ultoribus, ex quo apparet aliam esse animam, alium
daemonem : siquidem quod cruciatur et item quod cruciat diversa necesse sit.
Quodque opifex Deus ante daemonas instituit quam nostras animas creavit ;
THE TWO SYMPOSIUM MYTHS 437
Plato’s use of the term δαίμονες is strictly Hesiodic—he is
speaking not of such Gods at all, but of the spirits of deceased
men of the Golden Class. As Mr. Adam, in his note on the
passage, says, “ Plato compares his ‘ golden citizens’ with the
heroes of the Hesiodic golden age. He would fain surround
them with some of the romantic and religious sentiment
that clung around the golden age of Greek poetry and
legend.”
The two doctrines of δαίμονες which we find in Plato—
that enunciated in the Golden Age Myth and Diotima’s
Discourse, and that adopted from Hesiod in Rep. v. 468 E—
were both taken over by the Stoics, and accommodated to the
tenets of their “ physical science.”
According to the Stoics, the Soul, ψυχή, is material,
σωματική, but its matter is rarer and finer (ἀραιότερον and
Nemrouepéstepov—Chrysippus apud Plutarch de Stoic. Repugn.
41) than that of the body. The Soul is, in fact, πνεῦμα
ἔνθερμον, “ hot air, or breath.” ἢ
When Souls leave their earthly bodies they do not immedi-
ately perish. According to Cleanthes, they all retain their
individuality until the Conflagration, μέχρι τῆς ἐκπυρώσεως:
according to Chrysippus, only the Souls of Wise Men.2 At
the Conflagration, however, all Souls perish as individuals—
are dissolved back into the one substance, the elemental fire,
God, whose ἀποσπάσματα, or sundered parts, they were during
the term of their individual existence.
When Souls leave their earthly bodies, they rise into the
Air which occupies the space between the Earth and the Moon,
τὸν ὑπὸ σελήνην τόπον δ That the dissolution of, at any
rate, the majority of Souls inhabiting this aerial space takes
place before the Conflagration is clearly the view of Marcus
Aurelius in a curious passage (Comment. iv. 21), in which he
meets the difficulty of the Air having room for so many
separate beings. Room, he says, is always being made in the
uodque has indigere auxilio daemonum, his voluerit illos praebere tutelam.
oo ad tamen animas, quae vitam eximie per trinam incorporationem egerint,
virtutis merito aereis, vel etiam aethereis, plagis consecrari putat, a necessitate
incorporationis immunes.” The whole passage relating to Daemons in the Com-
mentary of Chalcidius (cxxvi.-cxxxv.) is interesting. He compares the Daemons
of Plato with the angels of the Hebrews.
1 Diog. Laert. vii. 157. 2 δι 6 vii. 157.
3 Posidonius, in Sext. Phys. i. 73.
438 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Air for new-comers by the progressive dissolution of their
predecessors, just as room in the Earth is always made for
new bodies by the progressive dissolution of those earlier
buried :---εἰ διαμένουσιν ai ψυχαί, πῶς αὐτὰς ἐξ ἀϊδίου
χωρεῖ ὁ ἀήρ; πῶς δὲ ἡ γῆ χωρεῖ τὰ τῶν ἐκ τοσούτου
αἰῶνος θαπτομένων σώματα; ὥσπερ γὰρ ἐνθάδε ἡ τούτων
πρὸς ἥντινα ἐπιδιαμονὴν μεταβολὴ καὶ διάλυσις χώραν
ἄλλοις νεκροῖς ποιεῖ, οὕτως αἱ εἰς τὸν ἀέρα μεθιστάμεναι
ψυχαί, ἐπὶ ποσὸν συμμείνασαι, μεταβάλλουσι καὶ χέονται
καὶ ἐξάπτονται, eis τὸν τῶν ὅλων σπερματικὸν λόγον
ἀναλαμβανόμεναι, καὶ τοῦτον τὸν τρόπον χώραν ταῖς
προσσυνοικιζομέναις παρέχουσιν.
It is probably to the Stoic Posidonius, whose astronomy
has been mentioned as influential in the development of the
theory and practice of Mithras-worship and similar sacra-
mental cults,| that the idea of the Air as the habitat of the
Souls of the deceased and also of δαίμονες ---- ἃπ order of
beings distinct from that of human Souls—is chiefly indebted
for its vogue. Posidonius wrote a treatise περὶ ἡρώων καὶ
δαιμόνων, quoted by Macrobius (Sat. i. 23),? and Cicero (de
Div. i. 64) quotes him as saying that the Air is full of Souls
and Daemons.* That belief in Daemons—spirits which have
never been incarnate in human bodies—is as consistent with
the “ materialism” of the Stoics as belief in the continued
existence of human Souls in the Air, is insisted upon by
Zeller’ and, indeed, is obvious.
So much for Stoical belief. But it was exactly the
astronomy — Pythagorean and Platonic in its origin—
popularised by the Stoic Posidonius, which seems to have
suggested a mode of escape from the Stoical doctrine that
the Soul, though subsisting for a longer or shorter time
after the death of the body, yet is ultimately dissolved.
Above the Air—the Stoical habitat of δαίμονες and Souls
of deceased men, equally doomed to dissolution, according
to the orthodox doctrine of the school—vthere is_ the
Aether. Into this region Souls purified by Philosophy—
1 See supra, pp. 352 ff.
2 See Rohde, Psyche, ii. 320.
* Stoics, Kpicureans, and Sceptics, p. 333, Engl. Transl.
* IT use the term ‘‘aether” here in its proper sense, as the name of the
element which contains the ‘‘ visible gods,” the stars. This element is sometimes,
as in the Zpinomis, 984 (cf. Zeller, Plato, p. 615), called πῦρ, fire, while ‘‘aether”
THE TWO SYMPOSTUM MYTHS 439
or, if may be, by sacramental observances——rise, and there,
though united to God, retain their individuality for ever.
This is the doctrine of the Somnium Seipionis — which
probably owes its astronomy to Posidonius'—and of the
Tuse. Disp. (i. 17, 18,19); it is the doctrine to which even
the Stoic Seneca (ad Mare. 25. 1) seems to ineline, and it
inspired those sacramental cults, Orphic, Mithraic, and
Kgyptian, which became so important in the religious life
of the first two centuries of the Christian era.”
In this doctrine of Aether, the region of the heavenly
spheres, as everlasting home of purified Souls, we have, of
course, merely the mythology of the Zimaeus and Phaedrus
framed in an astronomical setting somewhat more definite
than that furnished by Plato himself. What it is important,
however, to recognise is that this mythology, so framed,
takes the place of what is properly called πῦρ, fire, in the list ‘fire, air, water, earth.”
Bywater (Jowrn. of Phil. vol. i. pp. 37-39, on the Fragm. of Philolaus) quotes
the de Coelo, i. 270 Ὁ, and the Meteor, 339 Ὁ, for ‘‘aether” above the four
elements, and remarks that ‘‘the occurrence of this quinta essentia in the
Platonic Hpinomis is one of the many indications of the late origin of that
Dialogue.”
1 See Rohde, Psyche, ii. 320, and Dieterich, Zine Mithrasliturgie, quoted supra,
352.
2 The following references to the Commentary of Hierocles (President of the
School of Alexandria) on the Golden Hymn of the Pythagoreans may be taken
to show how the astronomy of the 7'imaeus and Phaedrus influenced eschatology
even in the fifth century of the Christian era. Hierocles (see Mullach’s
Fragm. Phil. Graec. i. 478 ff.) is commenting on the lines—
ἀλλ᾽ elpyou βρωτῶν, ὧν εἴπομεν, ἔν τε καθαρμοῖς,
ἔν τε λύσει ψυχῆς κρίνων, καὶ φράζευ ἕκαστα,
ἡνίοχον γνώμην στήσας καθύπερθεν ἀρίστην,
and, after referring for ἡνίοχον to the Phaedrus Myth, and remarking that it
embodies Pythagorean doctrine, says that, for the purification of the aethereal
body—rpés τὴν κάθαρσιν τοῦ αὐγοειδοῦς ἡμῶν oduaros—we must put away the
filth of the terrestrial body, and submit ourselves to purificatory observances,
καθαρμοί, which he describes—by means of which we shall rise from the Place of
Generation and Corruption, and be translated to τὸ ἠλύσιον πεδίον καὶ Αἰθέρα
τὸν ἐλεύθερον. But as the terrestrial body must be shed on Earth, the συμφυές,
i.e. the aerial body, must be shed in the aerial region immediately under the
Moon (cf. Plut. de fac. in orbe lunae, 28, quoted p. 440 infra). Then the
aethereal or astral body (τὸ ἀστροειδές, αὐγοειδές, φωτεινὸν σῶμα or ὄχημα) which
is the immortal vehicle of the Soul, is free to ascend, with the Soul, into the
Aether :—rotro δὲ γενόμενος ws οἷόν τε μετὰ τὴν κάθαρσιν, ὃ ἀεί εἰσιν οἱ μὴ els
γένεσιν πίπτειν πεφυκότες, τοῖς μὲν γνώσεσιν ἑνοῦται τῷ παντί, καὶ πρὸς αὐτὸν
ἀνάγεται τὸν θεόν" σῶμα δὲ συμφυὲς ἔχων, τόπου δεῖται εἰς κατάταξιν ἀστροειδῇ,
οἷον θέσιν ζητῶν. πρέποι δ᾽ ἂν τῷ τοιούτῳ σώματι τόπος ὁ ὑπὸ σελήνην
προσεχῶς, ὡς ὑπερέχων μὲν τῶν φθαρτῶν σωμάτων, ὑποβεβηκὼς δὲ τῶν οὐρανίων,
ὃν αἰθέρα ἐλεύθερον οἱ ἸΤυθαγόρειοι καλοῦσιν: αἰθέρα μέν, ὡς ἄῦλον καὶ ἀΐδιον
σῶμα: ἐλεύθερον δέ, ὡς ὑλικῶν παθημάτων καθαρόν. τί οὖν ὁ ἐκεῖσε ἐλθὼν ἔσται,
ἢ τοῦτο ὅ φησιν, ἔσσεαι ἀθάνατος θεός, ὡμοιωμένος τοῖς ἐν ἀρχῇ τῶν ἐπῶν
λεχθεῖσιν ἀθανάτοις θεοῖς, οὐ φύσει ἀθάνατος θεός.
440 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
appeared to Platonists to be ἃ sufficiently “up-to-date”
refutation of the “ materialism” of the Stoics. The Soul,
when perfectly purified, rises out of the Air into the Aether,
returning to its original home, and there lives for ever and
ever. Its perfect purification—effected by Philosophy, or
ritual performances, or both—guarantees its immortality ; for
its eternal intelligible essence—vods—stripped of perishing
sensible vehicles, terrestrial—oapa—and aerial—yuyn—
is alone left. Of this intelligible essence Aether is the
vehicle. The aethereal region is full of fulgor vivi ὁ vincenti*
—immortal spirits made pure by Philosophy, and suffering,
and holy rites. This Platonist doctrine is set forth by
Plutarch in his de genio Socratis, and in his de facie in
orbe lunae. In a curious passage in the latter work (ch. 28)
he tells us that reason—vods—has its home in the Sun.
Thither the purified spirit returns, having shed its corporeal
vehicle—copa—on Earth, and its aerial—yvy7—on the
Moon. This is the order of purification. And the order of
generation, he explains, is the contrary of that of purification :
—Of the three parts which make up man, the Sun supplies
νοῦς, the Moon ψυχή, the Earth σῶμα. Death on Earth
makes the three two; death on the Moon makes the two
one. Every Soul, whether rational or irrational,* must
wander for a time in the region between the Earth and the
Moon. In the lower parts of this region the unrighteous
are punished and corrected, while the righteous tarry for an
appointed time in its highest parts—in the region of the
softest air, which is called the Meadow of Death—éy τῷ
πρᾳοτάτῳ τοῦ ἀέρος ὃν λειμῶνας ἅδου καλοῦσι; then,
being filled, like those initiated, with a strange joy, half
amazement half hope, they aspire to the Moon. There, now
styled δαίμονες by Plutarch,’ they have their abode,
descending sometimes to Earth to help men—to assist at
mysteries, to watch and punish crimes, to save in battle
and at sea. The good among them (for some of them are
wicked and become incarnate again in human bodies) are
the Souls of those who lived on Earth in the reign of Cronus,
and they are still worshipped in many places. When one
1 Par. x, 64. 2 Plut. de fac, in orb, lun, 28.
8. 0,6. 28. 4 o.c, 28. 5 o.c. 30.
THE TWO SYMPOSTUM MYTHS 441
of these good Daemons at last loses his power on Karth and
fails his worshippers, it is because his lunar death has taken
place—his true Self, νοῦς, has at last been separated from
the ψυχή, which remains, like a corpse, on the Moon. The
separation of νοῦς from ψυχή is effected by the operation
in him of Love of the Solar Image—droxpiverac δ᾽ ἔρωτι
τῆς περὶ τὸν ἥλιον εἰκόνος, δι ἧς ἐπιλάμπει τὸ ἐφετὸν
καὶ καλὸν καὶ θεῖον καὶ μακάριον, οὗ πᾶσα φύσις, ἄλλη
δ᾽ ἄλλως, ὀρέγεται. .. λείπεται δὲ ἡ ψυχῆς φύσις ἐπὶ
τῇ σελήνῃ, οἷον ἴχνη τινὰ βίου καὶ ὀνείρατα διαφυλάττουσα
. αὐτὸς ἕκαστος ἡμῶν οὐ θυμός ἐστιν, οὐδὲ φόβος, οὐδ᾽
ἐπιθυμία, καθάπερ οὐδὲ σάρκες, οὐδὲ ὑγρότητες, GAN ᾧ
διανοούμεθα καὶ φρονοῦμεν . . . τούτων δὲ ἡ σελήνη
στοιχεῖόν ἐστιν, ἀναλύονται γὰρ εἰς ταύτην, ὥσπερ εἰς
τὴν γῆν τὰ σώματα τῶν νεκρῶν.
Plutarch’s other work, mentioned above, the de genio
Socratis, is so important for the doctrine of Daemons, that
it cannot be dismissed in a paragraph like that just devoted
to the de facie in orbe lunae. On the whole, I think the
best way of laying its contents before the reader is to let it
speak for itself in the Myth of Timarchus, which indeed
presents all that is essential to Plutarch’s daemonology. As
in the case of the Aridaeus-Thespesius Myth, I avail myself
here again of Philemon Holland’s version.
There was one Timarchus of Chaeronea, who died very young,
and requested earnestly of Socrates to be buried near unto
Lamprocles, Socrates his son, who departed this life but few days
before, being a dear friend of his, and of the same age. Now
this young gentleman, being very desirous (as he was of a
generous disposition, and had newly tasted the sweetness of
Philosophy) to know what was the nature and power of Socrates’
familiar spirit, when he had imparted his mind and purpose
unto me only and Cebes, went down into the cave or vault of
Trophonius, after the usual sacrifices and accustomed compli-
ments due to that oracle performed: where, having remained two
nights and one day, inasmuch as many men were out of all hope
that he ever would come forth again—yea, and his kinsfolk and
friends bewailed the loss of him—one morning betimes issued
forth very glad and jocund. ... He recounted unto us many
wonders strange to be heard and seen: for he said that being
descended into the place of the oracle, he first met with much
darkness, and afterwards, when he had made his prayers, he lay
442 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
a long time upon the ground, not knowing whether he was awake
or dreamed. Howbeit, he thought that he heard a noise which
lit upon his head and smote it, whereby the sutures or seams
thereof were disjoined and opened, by which he yielded forth
his soul; which, being thus separate, was very joyous, seeing
itself mingled with a transparent and pure air... When he
looked behind him he could see the Earth no more, but the Isles
all bright and illuminate with a mild and delicate fire, and those
exchanged their places one with another, and withal, received
sundry colours, as it were diverse tinctures, according as in that
variety of change the light did alter; and they all seemed unto
him in number infinite and in quantity excessive: and albeit they
were not of equal pourprise and extent, yet round they were
all alike: also, by their motion, which was cireular, the sky
resounded. . . Amid these Islands there seemed a sea or great
lake diffused and spread, shining with diverse mixed colours upon
a ground of grey or light blue. Moreover, of these Isles some
few sailed, as one would say, and were carried a direct course
down the water beyond the current; but others, and those in
number many, went aside out of the channel, and were with
such a violence drawn back that they seemed to be swallowed
under the waves. ... And the same sea hath two mouths or
entrances, whereby it receiveth two rivers of fire breaking
into it, opposite one to the other, in such sort as the blueness
thereof became whitish by reason that the greatest part was
repelled and driven back. And these things he said he beheld
with great delight. But when he came to look downward, he
perceived a mighty huge hole or gulf all round, in manner of a
hollow globe cut through the midst, exceeding deep and horrible
to see to, full of much darkness, and the same not quiet and still,
but turbulent and oftentimes boiling and walming upward, out
of which there might be heard innumerable roarings and groanings
of beasts, cries and wrawlings of an infinite number of children,
with sundry plaints and lamentations of men and women together,
besides many noises, tumults, clamours, and outcries of all sorts,
and those not clear, but dull and dead, as being sent up from a
great depth underneath. . . . One whom he saw not, said unto
him: The division of Proserpina, you may see if you will,
how it is bounded with Styx. Styx (quoth he) is the way
which leadeth unto hell and the kingdom of Pluto, dividing two
contrary natures of light and darkness with the head and top
thereof ; for, as you see, it beginneth from the bottom of hell
beneath, which it touches with the one extremity, and reacheth
with the other to the light all about, and so limiteth the utmost
part of the whole world, divided into four regiments. The first
is that of life; the second of moving; the third of generation ;
THE TWO SYMPOSTUM MYTHS 443
and the fourth of corruption. The first is coupled to the second
by unity, in that which is not visible; the second to the third,
by the mind or intelligence, in the sun; the third to the fourth,
by nature, in the moon. And of every one of these copulations
there is a Friend, or Destiny, the Daughter of Necessity, that
keepeth the key. Of the first, she that is named Atropos, as one
would say Inflexible ; of the second, Clotho—that is to say, the
Spinster ; of the third in the moon, Lachesis—that is to say, Lot,
about which is the bending of geniture or nativity. As for all
the other Isles, they have gods within them; but the Moon,
appertaining to the terrestrial Daemons, avoideth the confines of
Styx, as being somewhat higher exalted, approaching once only
in an hundred seventy seven second measures: and upon the
approach of this precinct of Styx, the souls ery out for fear. And
why? Hell catcheth and swalloweth many of them, as they
glide and slip about it: and others the Moon receiveth and taketh
up, swimming from beneath unto her; such, | mean, as upon
whom the end of generation fell in good and opportune time, all
save those which are impure and polluted: for them, with her
fearful flashing and hideous roaring, she suffereth not to come
near unto her; who, seeing that they have missed of their intent,
bewail their woeful state, and be carried down again, as you see,
to another generation and nativity. Why, quoth Timarchus, I
see nothing but a number of stars leaping up and down about
this huge and deep gulf, some drowned and swallowed up in it,
others appearing again from below. These be (quoth he) the
daemons that you see, though you know them not. And mark,
withal, how this comes about. Every soul is endued with a
portion of mind or understanding: but look how much thereof
is mingled with flesh and with passions; being altered with
pleasures and dolors, it becometh unreasonable. But every soul
is not mixed after one sort . . . for some are wholly plunged
within the body . . . others partly are mingled with the flesh,
and in part leave out that which is most pure, and not drawn
downward by the contagion of the gross part, but remaineth
swimming and floating as it were aloft, touching the top or crown
only of a man’s head, and is in manner of a cord hanging up
aloft, just over the soul which is directly and plumb under, to
uphold and raise it up, so far forth as it is obeisant thereto, and
not over-ruled and swayed with passions and perturbations: for
that which is plunged down within the body is called the soul;
but that which is entire and uncorrupt the vulgar sort calleth the
understanding, supposing it to be within them as in mirrors that
which appeareth by way of reflection: but those that judge aright
and according to the truth name it Daemon, as being clean
without them. These stars, then, which you see as if they were
444 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
extinct and put out, imagine and take them to be the souls which
are totally drowned within bodies ; and such as seem to shine out
again and to return lightsome from beneath, shaking from them
a certain dark and foggy mist, esteem the same to be such souls
as after death are retired and escaped out of the bodies; but
those which are mounted on high and move to and fro in one
uniform course throughout are the Daemons or spirits of men who
are said to have intelligence and understanding. Endeavour now
therefore and strain yourself to see the connection of each one,
whereby it is linked and united to the soul. When I heard this
I began to take more heed, and might see stars leaping and
floating upon the water, some more, some less, like as we observe
pieces of cork shewing in the sea where the fishers’ nets have been
cast ; and some of them turned in manner of spindles or bobbins,
as folk spin or twist therewith, yet drawing a troubled and
unequal course and not able to direct and compose the motion
straight. And the voice said that those which held on a right
course and orderly motion were they whose souls were obeisant
to the reins of reason . . . but they that eftsoons rise and fall up
and down unequally and disorderly are those which strive against
the yoke. . . . Of such as are obedient at the first, and presently
from their very nativity hearken unto their proper Daemon, are
all of the kind of prophets and diviners who have the gift to
foretell things to come, likewise holy and devout men: of which
number you have heard how the soul of Hermodorus the Clazo-
menian was wont to abandon his body quite, and both by day and
night to wander into many places ; and afterwards to return into
it again. . . which it used so long, until his enemies, by the
treachery of his wife, surprised his body one time, when the soul
was gone out of it, and burnt it in his house. Howbeit, this was
not true; for his soul never departed out of his body; but the
same being always obedient unto his Daemon, and slacking the
bond unto it, gave it means and liberty to run up and down, and
to walk to and fro in many places, in such sort, as having seen
and heard many things abroad, it would come and report the
same unto him. But those that consumed his body as he lay
asleep are tormented in Tartarus even at this day for it; which
you shall know yourself, good young man, more certainly within
these three months (quoth that voice): and for this time see you
depart. When this voice had made an end of speaking, Timarchus,
as he told the tale himself, turned about to see who it was that
spake; but feeling a great pain again in his head, as if it had
been violently pressed and crushed, he was deprived of all sense
and understanding, and neither knew himself nor anything about
him. But within a while after when he was come unto himself,
he might see how he lay along at the entry of the foresaid cave
THE TWO SYMPOSTUM MYTHS 445
of Trophonius, like as he had himself at the beginning. And thus
much concerning the fable of Timarehus; who being returned to
Athens, in the third month after, just as the voice foretold him,
he departed this life.
The Aether, then, according to the Platonist belief which
we are examining, is the birthplace of human Souls, and
their final abode when they have completed the purification
which guarantees immortality to them as Pure Intelligences,
But the Air is, none the less, the habitat, and, it would appear,
the permanent habitat, of another class of immortal spirits,
δαίμονες, who never were incarnate in terrestrial bodies.
These immortal δαίμονες occupy the Air, that they may be
near to help men on Earth, and mediate between them and
God, whose dwelling is in the aethereal region. It is in this
interspace between the “visible Gods,” the Stars, and the
Earth that the author of the Hpinomis' places the δαίμονες,
whom he describes as interpreters between men and the
Gods. He distinguishes three classes of such δαίμονες:
first, those who live in the so-called Aether under the Fire
or true Aether, .6.ὄ in the higher part of the space between
the Earth and the Moon; secondly, those who inhabit the Air
round the Earth—these two kinds of Daemons are invisible ;
thirdly, Daemons whose vehicle is watery mist—these are
sometimes visible.”
It is in the same space between the Earth and the Moon
that the Platonist Apuleius, writing in the second century
after Christ, places the δαίμονες of Diotima’s Discourse, an
order of divine mediators between God and men to which
he conceives the δαιμόνιον of Socrates and the Guardian
Angels of all other men as belonging.
Atque (he says)® si Platonis vera sententia est, nunquam se
Deum cum homine communicare, facilius me audierit lapis, quam
Jupiter. Non usque adeo (responderit enim Plato pro sententia
sua, mea vice), non usque adeo, inquit, sejunctos et alienatos a
nobis deos praedico, ut ne vota quidem nostra ad illos arbitrer
pervenire. Neque enim ipsos cura rerum humanarum, sed
contrectatione sola removi. Caeterum sunt quaedam divinae
1 According to Zeller (Plato, p. 561, Engl. Transl.), probably Philippus of
Opus, one of Plato’s pupils.
2 Epinomis, 984, 985; cf. Zeller, Plato (Engl. Transl.), Ρ. 615.
3 Apuleius de Deo Socratis, vol. ii. p. 116, ed. Bétolaud.
440 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
mediae potestates, inter summum aethera et infimas terras, in
isto intersitae aeris spatio, per quas et desideria nostra et merita
ad deos commeant; hos Graeci nomine δαίμονας nuncupant.
Inter terricolas caelicolasque vectores, hine precum, inde donorum ;
qui ultro citro portant, hine petitiones, inde suppetias, ceu
quidam utriusque interpretes et salutigeri. Per hos eosdem,
ut Plato in Symposio autumat, cuncta denunciata, et magorum
varia miracula, omnesque praesagiorum species reguntur. Eorum
quippe de numero praediti curant singula, proinde ut est eorum
cuique tributa provincia: vel sommiis confirmandis, vel extis
fissiculandis, vel praepetibus gubernandis, vel oscinibus erudiendis,
vel vatibus inspirandis, vel fulminibus jaculandis, vel nubibus
coruscandis, caeterisque adeo, per quae futura dinoscimus. Quae
cuncta caelestium voluntate et numine et auctoritate, sed
daemonum obsequio et opera et ministerio fieri arbitrandum
est . . . Quid igitur! tanta vis aeris, quae ab humillimis lunae
anfractibus, usque ad summum Olympi verticem interjacet ?
Quid tandem? Vacabitne animalibus suis, atque erit ista naturae
pars mortua ac debilis? . . . Flagitat ratio? debere propria enim
animalia in aere intelligi; superest ut quae tandem et cujusmodi
ea sint, disseramus. Igitur terrena nequaquam, devergant enim
pondere; sed ne flammida, ne sursum versus calore rapiantur.
Temperanda ergo nobis pro loci medietate media natura.
mente formemus et gignamus animo id genus corporum texta,
quae neque tam bruta quam terrea, neque tam levia quam
aetherea, sed quodammodo utrimque sejugata. . .. Quod si
nubes*® sublime volitant, quibus omnis et exortus est terrenus,
et retro defluxus in terras est; quid tandem censes daemonum
corpora, quae sunt concretu multo tanto subtiliori? Non enim
sunt ex hac faeculenta nubecula, tumida caligine conglobata,
sicuti nubium genus est; sed ex illo purissimo aeris liquido et
sereno elemento coalita, eoque nemini hominum temere visibilia,
nisi divinitus speciem sui offerant, quod nulla in illis terrena
soliditas locum luminis occuparit, quae nostris oculis possit
obsistere, qua soliditate necessario offensa acies immoretur; sed
fila corporum possident rara, et splendida, et tenuia, usque adeo
ut radios omnis nostri tuoris et raritate transmittant, et splendore
reverberent, et subtilitate frustrentur. . . . Debet deus* nullam
perpeti vel odii, vel amoris temporalem perfunctionem ; et idcirco
nec indignatione nec misericordia contingi, nullo angore contrahi,
nulla alacritate gestire ; sed ab omnibus animi passionibus liber,
nec dolere unquam, nec aliquando laetari, nec aliquid repentinum
velle vel nolle. Sed et haec cuncta, et id genus caetera, daemonum
mediocritati rite congruunt. Sunt enim inter nos ac deos, ut loco
regionis, ita ingenio mentis intersiti, habentes communem cum
1 a0. p. 119, 2 δι p. 119. 8. oc, Ὁ, 121, 4 oc. p. 124,
THE TWO SYMPOSIUM MYTHS 447
superis immortalitatem, cum inferis passionem. Nam, proinde ut
nos, pati possunt omnia animorum placamenta vel incitamenta :
ut et ira incitentur, et misericordia flectantur, et donis invitentur,
et precibus leniantur, et contumeliis exasperentur, et honoribus
mulceantur, aliisque omnibus ad similem nobis modum varientur.
Quippe, ut finem comprehendam, daemones sunt genere animalia,
ingenio rationabilia, animo passwwa, corpore aeria, tempore aeterna.,
These Daemons Apuleius distinguishes sharply,’ as never
having been incarnate, from the lower sort of Daemons—
Lemures, Lares, Larvae—spirits of deceased men. It is from
the number of the Daemons who never were incarnate that
the Guardian Spirit attached to each man at his birth comes,
Ex hac sublimiori® daemonum copia Plato autumat, singulis
hominibus in vita agenda testes et custodes singulos additos, qui
nemini conspicui, semper adsint arbitri omnium non modo
actorum, verum etiam cogitatorum. At ubi vita edita remean-
dum est, eundem illum, qui nobis praeditus fuit, raptare illico et
trahere veluti custodiam suam ad judicium, atque illic in causa
dicunda assistere : si qua commentiatur, redarguere: si qua vera
dicat, asseverare: prorsus illius testimonio ferri sententiam.
Proinde vos omnes, qui hance Platonis divinam sententiam, me
interprete, auscultatis, ita animos vestros ad quaecunque vel
agenda, vel meditanda formate, ut sciatis, nihil homini prae istis
custodibus, nec intra animum, nec foris, esse secreti, quin omnia
curiose ille participet, omnia visat, omnia intelligat, in ipsis
penitissimis mentibus vice conscientiae deversetur.*
Maximus Tyrius, writing about the same time as Apuleius,
1 9.6. Ὁ. 128. 2 oc. p. 129.
3 <*To a mind carefully formed upon the basis of its natural conscience,”
says Cardinal Newman (Grammar of Assent, ch. v.), ‘‘the world, both of nature
and of man, does but give back a reflection of those truths about the One Living
God which have been familiar to it from childhood. Good and evil meet us
daily as we pass through life, and there are those who think it philosophical
to act towards the manifestations of each with some sort of impartiality, as if
evil had as much right to be there as good, or even better, as having more
striking triumphs and a broader jurisdiction. And because the course of things
is determined by fixed laws, they consider that those laws preclude the present
agency of the Creator in the carrying out of particular issues. It is otherwise
with the theology of the religious imagination. It has a living hold on truths
which are really to be found in the world, though they are not upon the surface.
It is able to pronounce by anticipation, what it takes a long argument to prove
—that good is the rule, and evil the exception. It is able to assume that,
uniform as are the laws of nature, they are consistent with a particular
Providence. It interprets what it sees around it by this previous inward
teaching, as the true key of that maze of vast complicated disorder ; and thus
it gains a more and more consistent and luminous Vision of God from the most
unpromising materials. Thus conscience is a connecting principle between the
creature and his Creator ; and the firmest hold of theological truths is gained by
habits of personal religion.” ;
448 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
has remarks to the same effect in his Dissertation (26) on
the δαιμόνιον of Socrates, which he describes as one of those
ἀθάνατοι δεύτεροι who are posted between Gods and Men, in
the space between Earth and Heaven—év μεθορίῳ γῆς καὶ
οὐρανοῦ teTayuévo. —to be ministers of the Gods and
guardians, ἐπιστάται, of men. The number of these medi-
ators between Gods and Men is countless: he quotes Hesiod—
τρὶς yap μύριοι εἰσὶν ἐπὶ χθονὶ πουλυβοτείρῃ
ἀθάνατοι Ζηνὸς πρόπολοι 1—
Some of them heal our diseases, others give counsel in
difficulties, others reveal things hidden, others help men at
their work or attend them on their journeys; some are with
men in the town, others with men in the country; some are
near to give aid at sea, others on land; one is at home in
Socrates, another in Plato, another in Pythagoras—eiAnye
δ᾽ ἄλλος ἄλλην ἑστίαν σώματος, ὁ μὲν Σωκράτην, ὁ δὲ
Πλάτωνα... ὅσαι φύσεις ἀνδρῶν τοσαῦται καὶ δαιμόνων :
and the unrighteous Soul is that which has no Guardian
Daemon domestic within it—édav δέ που μοχθηρὰν δείξῃς
ψυχήν, ἀνέστιος αὕτη Kal ἀνεπιστάτητος.
The doctrine of the individual’s Guardian Daemon, set
forth in the Phaedo Myth and the Myth of Er, and corrobo-
rated from the personal experience of Socrates in the Apology,’
Republics and Theages,> seems, in the works of Apuleius and
Maximus Tyrius just now quoted from, to amount very nearly
to the identification of that Daemon with Moral Character
or Conscience—an identification which, it is interesting to re-
member, was made even before Plato’s time by Heraclitus,—7@os
ἀνθρώπῳ δαίμων, "----ἃπα meets us in the teaching of the Stoics,
where, indeed, it seems to be only the legitimate consequence
of the “ naturalism ” of the School, and does not surprise us, as
it does in the teaching of Platonists: the following passage, for
instance, in Arrian’s Dissertationes (i. 14), giving the words of
Epictetus, merely states the doctrine known to moral theology
as that of the “authority of conscience” :—
1 0. et D, 288.
2 This seems to have been the generally accepted view ; but Servius on Virg.
Aen. vi. 743, records another view—that every man at birth has assigned to him
two genii, a good and a bad.
340 A. 4 496 o. 5 128} ff.
6 Heracliti Eph. Reliquiae, Bywater, Fr. cxxi.
THE TWO SYMPOSIUM MYTHS 449
ἐπίτροπον ἑκάστῳ παρέστησεν ὁ Ζεὺς τὸν ἑκάστου δαίμονα, Kal
παρέδωκε φυλάσσειν αὐτὸν αὐτῷ, καὶ τοῦτον ἀκοίμητον καὶ ἀπαρα-
λόγιστον, rive γὰρ ἄλλῳ κρείττονε καὶ ἐπιμελεστέρῳ φύλακι
παραδέδωκεν ἡμῶν ἕκαστον; wal? ὅταν κλείσητε τὰς θύρας καὶ
σκότον ἔνδον ποιήσητε, μέμνησθε μηδέποτε λέγειν ὅτι μόνοι ἐστέ.
οὐδὲ ἐστέ" ἀλλ᾽ ὁ θεὺς ἔνδον ἐστὶ καὶ ὁ ὑμέτερος δαίμων ἐστί.
To the same effect Marcus Aurelius (Comment. v. 27) says:—
συῶὼ δὲ θεοῖς ὃ συνεχῶς δεικνὺς αὐτοῖς τὴν ἑαυτοῦ ψυχὴν
ἀρεσκομένην μὲν τοῖς ἀπονεμομένοις, ποιοῦσαν δὲ ὅσα βούλεται ὁ
δαίμων ὃν ἑκάστῳ προστάτην καὶ ἡγεμόνα ὁ Ζεὺς ἔδωκεν, ἀπόσπασμα
ἑαυτοῦ. οὗτος δέ ἐστιν ὁ ἑκάστου νοῦς καὶ λόγος.
So much for the philosophical outcome of the doctrine of
the δαίμων éxadorou—that part of the general doctrine of
aerial δαίμονες which seems to have been more interesting
than any other to Platonists and Stoies alike.
But what, it may be asked, is the ultimate source of this
belief in the δαίμων ἑκάστου out of which moral theology, by
a rationalising process, has evolved “conscience,” or even
“noumenal character.” ἢ
I would suggest that, in order to approach the answer to
this question, we first dismiss from our minds those aerial
δαίμονες who never were incarnate (although it is to their
order, according to Plato, that the δαίμονες attached to indi-
viduals belong), and think only of the Hesiodic δαίμονες, the
Souls of dead men, inhabiting the Air. The notion of δαίμονες
who never were incarnate is subsequent to that of those who
are Souls of dead men inhabiting the air, and came in, we may
take it, only after the theological doctrine of the transcend-
ence of One Supreme God had established itself. That
theological doctrine required mediators between God and men,
beings through whom the creative and regulative functions of
God are exerted, while He Himself remains from everlasting
to everlasting unmoved; and it was only logical to conceive
these beings as Powers of the Godhead anterior in time and
dignity to the Souls of men.
The primitive doctrine of δαίμονες, with which the later
one has less connection than might at first sight appear, is
that of the presence on, under, or near the Earth of the Souls
of dead ancestors; and it is still a widely spread belief that
the company of these Souls is being continually drawn upon
1 See Rohde, Psyche, ii. 317.
2G
450 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
to supply infants, as they are born, with Souls. No new Souls
come into being; old Souls are always used. I have already
adverted to this belief," and return to it here to suggest that
it is the source of the doctrine of the δαίμων ἑκάστου or
Guardian Spirit of the individual. Every new person born is
at once himself and some deceased ancestor. He is essentially
double. “In the Niger Delta,” says Mr. J. E. King, citing
the authority of Miss Kingsley, “we are told that no one’s soul
remains long below. The soul’s return to its own family ὃ. is
ensured by special ju-jus. As the new babies arrive, they are
shown a selection of small articles belonging to deceased
members of the family. The child is identified by the article
which first attracts its attention. ‘Why, he’s Uncle John;
see! he knows his own pipe.’”
I would suggest that in “Uncle John” we have the
source out of which the notion of the Guardian Genius, the
μυσταγωγὸς τοῦ βίου," was evolved.
The Jewish doctrine of Angels-—on which the reader may
consult the Jewish Encyclopaedia, article “ Angelology ”»—bears
considerable resemblance to the Greek doctrine of δαίμονες as
divine beings (not Souls of deceased men) intermediate between
Godand men. Philo indeed goes the length of identifying the
Jewish Angels with the δαίμονες of the Greek philosophers.°
The Jewish, like the parallel Greek doctrine, seems to
have been largely consequential on the doctrine of the tran-
scendence of One Supreme God.°
1 See supra, pp. 198 ff. and pp. 302 ff.
2 ««Tnfant Burial,” Classical Rev. Feb.1903. Mr. King’s reference is to Miss
Kingsley’s Travels in West Africa, p. 493.
8. Cf. Olympiodorus on Phaedo 70 ο---ὅτι τὸ ζῶον καὶ τὸ τεθνεὼς ἐξ ἀλλήλων
κατασκευάζει ἐκ τῆς μαρτυρίας τῶν παλαιῶν ποιητῶν τῶν ἀπὸ ᾿Ορῴφέως, φημί,
λέγοντο----
οἱ δ᾽ αὐτοὶ πατέρες τε καὶ υἱέες ἐν μεγάροισιν
ἠδ᾽ ἄλοχοι σεμναὶ κεδναί τε θύγατρε-----
πανταχοῦ γὰρ ὁ IlAdrwy παρῳδεῖ τὰ τοῦ ᾿Ορφέως.
“(uorum,” adds Lobeck (Aglaoph. p. 797), “haec sententia esse videtur :
animis in corpora remigrantibus saepe fit, ut qui olim naturae et affinitatis
vinculis conjuncti fuerant, postea aliquando in eandem domum recolligantur ad
pristinam conditionem revoluti.”
4 ἅπαντι δαίμων ἀνδρὶ συμπαραστατεῖ
εὐθὺς γενομένῳ μυσταγωγὸς τοῦ Blov.—MENANDER.
5 De Somniis, i. 22; and also calls them λόγοι (ο.6. i. 12-19),
® See Hatch, Hibbert Lectures, 1888, pp. 246, 247: ἰδέαι, λόγοι, δαίμονες,
ἄγγελοι, are conceptions which easily pass into one another—a philosophical
basis, he argues, for the theory of a transcendent God was afforded by the
Platonic ἰδέαι and the Stoical λόγοι.
GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON MYTHS
WHICH SET FORTH THE NATION’S, AS DISTINGUISHED FROM
THE INDIVIDUAL’sS, IDEALS AND CATEGORIES
HITHERTO we have seen the Individual’s Ideals and Cate-
gories set forth in Myth. Let us now conclude our review of
the Platonic Myths by looking at two, in one of which—the
Atlantis Myth'’—we have a Nation’s Ideal set forth—we
assist at the spectacle of a Nation led on by a Vision of its
Future; while in the other—the Myth of the Earth-Born,
the Foundation-myth of the καλλίέπολις ὅ ---γχὸ have a
Nation’s Categories deduced—the life of the “ social organism ἢ
is exhibited as conditioned by its Past, as determined a priori
by certain deep-cut characteristics.
The Atlantis Myth is introduced in the TZimaeus as
necessary to complete the ideal of the καλλίπολις, or Perfect
State, presented in the Republic. The Yimaeus, we must
remember, stands in very close artistic and philosophic con-
nection with the Republic, and begins with a recapitulation of
the first five books of the Republic. Having recapitulated,
Socrates says that he wishes now to see the Constitution of
their yesterday’s conversation exhibited im action; and it is
to meet this wish that Critias tells the story of Atlantis—
merely summarised in the Zimaeus, but afterwards begun on
full scale in the Critias, unfortunately a fragment.
There are two chief points to be noticed about the follow-
ing on of the Atlantis Myth to complete the Republic :—
(1) It is an imaginary Athens in the Atlantis Myth, which
is the καλλίπολις of the Republic in action. Much has been
1 Timaeus, 19 ff. (where it is sketched), and Critias (where it is begun on a
large scale, but not finished).
2 Republic, 414 8.
451
452 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
said and written about Plato’s dislike of Athenian democracy
and admiration of Spartan institutions as shown in the
Republic. The ideal city of the Republic has been epigram-
matically described as “ a Dorian State and a Pythagorean
Order.” But it is a glorified Athens, not Sparta, which
represents Hellas against barbarism in the Myth told by
Critias. “Athens, with all thy faults I love thee still,” is
Plato’s deepest sentiment.
(2) The action of the καλλίπολις is assumed without
question to be war. The education of the Republic is the
education of warriors, and the Myth of Atlantis is the History
of a Great War which puts that education to practical test.
Of all Utopias, Plato’s is the most militant. The Philosophers
who rule are recruited from the Army. Only those who have
first learnt, as patriotic soldiers, to reverence the ideal of
Country one and indivisible, can afterwards comprehend that
ideal intellectually in its contour and articulation—can take
the “synoptic view” required in the Philosopher-King.
Industrial people immersed in private affairs never rise, either
as patriots or as statesmen, to the ideal of Country one and
indivisible. A “Philosophie Banker,” as Grote was called,
Plato could not have conceived. Civilisation, as its course is
sketched in the Second Book of the Republie,, begins with
the formation of an Army. The little rustic ὑγιὴς πόλις----
the City of Pigs—contented with mere comfort, can never
become the home of civilisation. It is out of the unrest and
lust of the φλεγμαίνουσα πόλις that civilisation is evolved;
for in order to satisfy its lust it must go to war, and in order
to wage war successfully it must have professional soldiers,
who, if they are not to turn upon their fellow-citizens and
rend them, must be trained in a certain manner. What, then,
is to be the training of these soldiers? They were called
into existence solely, it would appear, for the purpose of
serving the evil policy of the φλεγμαίνουσα πόλις. But where
is now the φλεγμαίνουσα rods? It is gone—only its soldiers
remain ; and, by one of those dream-like transformations which
mean so much in Plato’s Philosophy, its soldiers are changed
into the Guardians of the καλλίπολις to be; and, without a
word of explanation offered, a beginning is straightway made
' Republic, 372, 373.
GENERAL OBSERVATIONS 453
of their training for the service of that city. And what does
this dream-like transformation mean? That the highest good
is won only in the struggle against difficulties into which evil
passions have brought us—
What we call sin
I could believe a painful opening out
Of paths for ampler virtue.!
The contented life of the ὑγιὴς πόλις must be succeeded by
the restless lustful life of the φλεγμαίνουσα πόλις, in order
that upon the necessity of war the beauty of true civilisation
may be grafted by discipline and education.
The doctrine of the Republic, then, is that the leaders of
civilisation are men who have been trained for war—o δέ γε
ἡμέτερος φύλαξ πολεμικός Te Kal φιλόσοφος τυγχάνει ὦν."
Here Plato seems to me to take hold of a fundamental prin-
ciple in biology. Look at the races of living creatures: their
specific beauty and intelligence have been developed on lines
laid down by the necessity of defence and attack: victrix
causa deis placuit. It does not astonish the reader of the
Republic, then, to see the Myth of the καλλίέπολιες completed
by the Atlantis Myth, in which the Military State, small
and disciplined, overthrows the Commercial State, large and
luxurious. The individual Soul may indeed pass out of the
κύκλος γενέσεων and enter into peace—e venni dal martirio
a questa pace;* but the State has no immortal destiny— it is
of this world, and is always implicated in the struggle of the
earthly life. Ἰ]ολεμοῦμεν ἵν᾿ εἰρήνην ἄγωμεν is not in
Plato’s vein. Were war to cease in the world, what would
become of the Platonic system of Education? Plato does not
expect—and, more than that, does not wish—to see war cease.
His ideal of earthly life is Hellas in arms against Barbarism.
War began in ἐπιθυμία, in appetite; then it was waged to
satisfy θυμός ----ἴον la gloire; and we ought to hope that the
time will come when it will be waged only in the cause of
Aoyos—to propagate an idea; but let us remember—this is
Plato’s message to us, as I understand it—that the “idea”
we fight for—our ἐν τούτῳ νικᾷς ----ἶἰδ a sign which shines only
1 Clough, Dipsychus. 2 Republic, 525 B 3 Par, xv. 148.
454 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
before the eyes of the militant, and would fade from the sky
if we laid down our arms.
The Atlantis Myth throws the future back into the past—
it reflects, in the form of a History of Invaders coming from
the West, Plato’s hope and fear as he looks towards the East.
The shadow of Persian Invasion still darkened Greece. Plato,
in the καλλίπολις of the Republic and the Atlantis Myth, sets
forth his ideal of a glorified Athens which, under the spiritual
leadership of the Delphian Apollo,’ shall undertake the politi-
cal leadership of a united Hellas, in order to stem the onslaught
of the Barbarian, and maintain the Hellenic ideal of “ culture”
against the barbaric reality of “ material civilisation.” Thus,
taken in connection with each other, as they certainly ought
to be, the Republic and the Atlantis Myth set forth a dream
of the future which takes rank beside Dante’s dream of Empire
and Church in the de Monarchia.
Plato’s dream was soon to come true, though not in the
manner which any forecast of his could have anticipated ; for
even Aristotle writes as if Alexander had not conquered Asia
and opened a new epoch for Hellas and the world. “The
history of Greece,” says Prof. Perey Gardner,’ “consists of
two parts, in every respect contrasted the one with the other.
The first recounts the stories of the Persian and Peloponnesian
wars, and ends with the destruction of Thebes and the subju-
gation of Athens and Sparta. The Hellas of which it speaks
is a cluster of autonomous cities in the Peloponnesus, the
Islands, and Northern Greece, together with their colonies
scattered over the coasts of Italy, Sicily, Thrace, the Black
Sea, Asia Minor, and Africa. These cities care only to be
independent, or, at most, to lord it over one another. Their
political institutions, their religious ceremonies, their customs,
are civic and local. Language, commerce, a common Pantheon,
and a common art and poetry are the ties that bind them
together. In its second phase, Greek history begins with the
expedition of Alexander. It reveals to us the Greek as every-
where lord of the barbarian, as founding kingdoms and
federal systems, as the instructor of all mankind in art and
science, and the spreader of civil and civilised life over the
1 Republic, 427 3, ©.
4 New Chapters in Greek History, pp. 416-417,
GENERAL OBSERVATIONS 455
known world, In the first period of her history Greece is
forming herself, in her second she is educating the world,
We will venture to borrow from the Germans a convenient
expression, and call the history of independent Greece the
history of Hellas—that of imperial Greece the history of
Hellenism.”
The ideal, adumbrated in the Republic and the Atlantis
Myth, of a Hellenic Empire, created and maintained by the
joint forces of Athens and Delphi, is one between which and
the ideal of personal salvation through union with God—
ὁμοίωσις τῷ Oe@—there is a very real opposition. The more
men live for the ideal of national greatness the less does the
ideal of personal salvation concern them. Plato’s chief interest
undoubtedly was in the ideal of personal salvation, which he
derived mainly from the Orphic religion; and it was exactly
this Orphic element in Platonism which constituted by far the
most important part of its influence on subsequent philosophy,
and, more especially, on the development of Christian doctrine
and practice. The Heaven and Hell and Purgatory of Chris-
tian eschatology come not, to any large extent, from Jewish
sources, or from the teaching of the Gospels and Epistles, but
mainly from the Apocalypses, which are thoroughly Orphic
in matter and spirit." It is not to be supposed, of course, that
the Apocalypses got their Orphism or “Sacramentalism ”—
to use a term which covers the ground better—from Plato.
They got it from the teaching of the Orphic and similar
sacramental societies which existed throughout the world.
But the direction given, at the beginning, to Christian thought
and feeling, and, it is safe to add, to Christian practice, by the
influence of these societies, produced a condition of religious
belief which afterwards lent itself easily to the influence of
the refined Orphism of the Platonists.
Just as the ideal of national greatness on Earth, though
we see it in the Repudlic and Atlantis Myth swimming into
Plato’s ken, was of little account to him, and to those whom
he influenced, beside the ideal of personal salvation through
union with God,—so, in the development of Christianity, to
which Platonism contributed so much, the materialistic Jewish
1 See Gardner’s Exploratio Evangelica, p. 270, with reference to Dieterich’s
analysis of the Apocalypse of Peter.
456 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
conception of a reign of the Messiah on Earth, over a chosen
people raised in their earthly bodies from the dead, gave place
to the spiritual ideal of union with the Heavenly Christ be-
ginning for each man now in this present life and continuing
for ever—the ideal which St. Paul came at last to cherish,
“having a desire to depart and to be with Christ, which is
far better.” "ἢ
1 Phil, i. 28 ; and see Gardner’s Exp. Ev. pp. 435-438.
THE ATLANTIS MYTH
CRITIAS begins by saying! that he heard the story, when he
was a boy, from his grandfather Critias, who had heard it from
his father Dropides, who got it from Solon. Solon brought
it from Egypt, having got it from a priest of Neith—that is,
of Athena—at Sais. Solon had been telling the priests of
Neith some of the old Greek stories, especially that about the
Flood which Deucalion and Pyrrha survived, when a very
aged priest exclaimed, “You Greeks are always children ;
there is not an old man among you!” meaning that the
oldest Greek stories were but of yesterday. Deucalion’s Flood
was not the only one; there were many Floods and other
catastrophes before it, by which civilisations both in Greece
and in other parts of the world were destroyed. But Egypt
had been exempt from catastrophes, and her priests had
made records, which were still preserved in continuous
series, of all that had happened, not only in Egypt, but
in other parts of the world, during the successive periods
terminated by the various Floods and other catastrophes.
Among these records was one relating to the Athens which
flourished before the greatest of the Floods. This Athens,
the aged priest told Solon, Athena founded nine thousand
years before his time—one thousand years before she founded
Sais; and the constitution of the antediluvian Athens was
similar to that which the sister city of Sais still preserved,
especially in the separation of the class of priests and the
class of warriors from a third class, including the castes of
artisans, shepherds, huntsmen, and husbandmen. He then
went on to give the History of the Great War in which
Athens, so constituted, was engaged with the people of the
1 Timaeus, 20 Ε.
457
458 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Island of Atlantis, explaining that this island, which was
larger than Libya and Asia together, lay in the Ocean outside,
off the straits now called the Pillars of Hercules. Beyond
this island there were other islands in the Atlantic Ocean, by
means of which it was possible to pass to the Continent on
the farther side of that Ocean, In the Island of Atlantis itself
there was a mighty dynasty of Kings who ruled over that
island, over many of the adjacent islands, over parts of the
Transatlantic Continent, and over Libya as far as Egypt, and,
on the other side of the Mediterranean Sea, as far as Etruria.
This mighty Power, collecting all its forces, was moving east-
wards to add to its empire the remaining Mediterranean
countries, Greece and Egypt, when Athens stood forth as
their champion; and, now leading the other Greek States,
now deserted by them, waged a glorious war against the in-
vaders, and conquered them, and not only saved Greece and
Egypt, but liberated the Western Mediterranean countries
which had been enslaved. Then, sometime after, came the
Deluge. Athens was overwhelmed, in a day and a night, by
flood and earthquake; and the Island of Atlantis sank under
the sea, leaving shoals which still render the navigation of the
Ocean difficult in these parts.
This is the Atlantis Myth as sketched by Critias in the
Timaeus.'
He then proposes to enter fully into its details, on the
understanding that the citizens of the Ideal State constructed
in the Republic are identified with the citizens of the ante-
diluvian Athens; but first, Timaeus must give his promised
account of the creation of the world and of man, so that, when
all is said, we may have the full history of man—created in
the Zimaeus, educated in the Republic, and acquitting himself
nobly in the Atlantis Myth.
The Critias,in which the Atlantis Myth was to have been
told fully, is a fragment—a fragment, however, of considerable
bulk; and I do not propose to translate it verbatim or to
print the Greek text. A detailed account of its contents will
serve our purpose sufficiently.
The fragment begins by saying that, in the old time, the
Earth was divided into provinces, each of which was directly
1 21 a-25 p.
THE ATLANTIS MYTH 459
governed by a God, or Gods,’ Thus Athens was assigned to
Hephaestus and Athena, brother and sister, and the Island of
Atlantis to Poseidon.
The Athens of Athena and Hephaestus was constituted
according to the model set forth in the Republic. There were
artisans and husbandmen, and a class of warriors originally
set apart by certain “divine men.” The warriors dwelt to-
gether, and had all things in common, being supported by the
labour of the other citizens. Men and women alike practised
the art of warfare. The territory of the city, co-extensive
with Attica as it now is, was the most fertile in the world.
What is now a mere skeleton of mountains and rocks was
then filled in with rich soil, so that what are now mountains
were then only hills; and Pnyx, Acropolis, and Lycabettus
formed one almost level ridge of loam. On the top of this
ridge, where the Acropolis now is, the warriors lived round
the Temple of Athena and Hephaestus, their winter quarters
towards the north, and their summer quarters towards the
south. The number of these warriors, men and women, was
always about twenty thousand. They were the guardians
(φύλακες) of their own citizens, and the leaders (ἡγεμόνες)
of the other Greeks their willing followers. Such were the
ancient Athenians; and they were famous throughout Europe
and Asia for the beauty of their bodies and the various virtues
of their souls.
To Poseidon the Island of Atlantis was allotted. Near the
centre of the island there was a fertile plain, and near it a
mountain. In this mountain dwelt the earth-born Evenor,
who had a daughter Cleito. Her Poseidon loved, and enclosed
the mountain in which she lived with concentric rings of sea
and land, three of sea and two of land, so that it could not be
approached, for at that time there were no ships. Being a
god, he easily brought subterranean streams of water, one cold
and the other hot, to this island-mountain, and made it fruit-
ful. Here he begat ten sons; and he divided the whole island
of Atlantis among them into ten parts. To the first-born,
who was named Atlas, he gave the island-mountain and sur-
rounding territory, and also made him King of the whole
of Atlantis, his nine brethren being governors under him in
1 Cf. Politicus, 271 Ὁ, and Laws, iv. 7198 ff.
400 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
their several provinces. From Atlas were descended the
Kings of Atlantis in long and unbroken line; and under them
the island prospered greatly, receiving much through foreign
trade, and itself producing much—metals, timber, spices, and
all manner of food for man, and pasture for the elephants and
other animals which abounded. Great works were also carried
out by these Kings. . . . First they made a bridge across the
rings of sea which enclosed the ancient metropolis, and began
to build a palace on the island-mountain, to the size and
adornment of which each generation added till it became a
wonder. Then they dug a canal 50 stadia long, 300 feet
broad, and 100 feet deep, making a waterway for the largest
ships from the ocean to their metropolis, which thus became a
seaport. They also cut passages for ships through the two
rings of land, and spanned the passages by bridges under
which ships could go. The first ring of land, like the outer-
most ring of sea, was three stadia broad; the second ring of
land, like the ring of sea which enclosed it, was two stadia
broad; while the ring of water which immediately surrounded
the island-mountain was one stade wide; the island-mountain
itself being five stadia across. The island-mountain and its
palace they surrounded with a wall; and another wall they
built round the circuit of the mid ring of land; and a third
wall round the circuit of the outer ring of land; and also a
wall on either side of the great bridge leading from the coun-
try without to that ring; and towers and gates they placed at
the bridges which spanned the passages cut in both rings of
land. The stone for the walls they quarried from the foot of
the island-mountain and from both sides of the two rings of
land, thus at the same time making cavities in the rock which
served as covered docks. The stone was of three kinds—white,
black, and red; and these three kinds, pieced together in one
building, made it beautiful to behold. The outermost wall
was coated with brass, laid on like ointment; the middle wall
with tin, and the wall of the Acropolis itself with orichaleum
glancing red like fire. Within the enclosure of the Acropolis
was first the holy place of Cleito and Poseidon, in which no
man might set foot—the spot where the ten sons were be-
gotten. It was surrounded with a golden fence. Thither
they brought the seasonable fruits of the earth, from each of
THE ATLANTIS MYTH 461
the ten provinces, as offerings to each of the ten sons. Then
there was the Temple of Poseidon himself, in length a stade,
in breadth three plethra, and of proportionate height, on the
outside coated all over with silver except the pinnacles, which
were coated with gold——a spectacle of barbaric splendour ; and
within, the roof of ivory inlaid with gold and silver and
orichaleum, and all other parts—walls, pillars, and floor—
covered over with orichalcum—and images all golden; the
God himself mounted on a chariot driving six winged horses,
his head towering up to the roof of the temple, and round him
in a ring a hundred Nereids riding on dolphins; and there
were other images too, which had been put up by private
persons within the temple; and outside, golden statues of the
Kings and their wives, and many other statues presented by
persons at home and in foreign countries belonging to the
Atlantic Empire. There was also an altar in keeping with
the temple, and there were magnificent palaces hard by.
The numerous fountains of cold and hot water which
Poseidon had caused to spring in his island-mountain were
housed and made to serve as baths for the Kings, for private
persons, for women, and for horses and other beasts of burden ;
and the water not used in this way was conducted, some of it
to the beautiful grove of Poseidon in the island-mountain,
some of it by aqueducts across the bridges to the two rings of
land, where also there were temples and gardens and gymnasia
and race-courses for horses—especially in the outermost of the
two rings, where there was a race-course a stade wide running
right round the ring. Along this grand course were the
quarters of the main body of the troops; a smaller number of
trusted troops was quartered in the inner ring of land, and
the most trusted of all in the Acropolis itself as bodyguard
to the Kings.
The docks close under the island-mountain and the two
rings of land were full of war-ships and stores; and when you
crossed these two rings and came to the outermost ring of sea,
or harbour, you found it and the canal leading to the ocean
full of merchant shipping. At the ocean-mouth of this canal
the two semicircles met of a wall which ran always at a dis-
tance of fifty stades from the outermost ring of sea, and en-
closed a densely-populated area.
462 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
So much for the royal city. Atlantis itself was a moun-
tainous island, save for the plain in which the royal city
stood. This plain was oblong, extending 3000 stades in one
direction, and 2000 inland through the centre of the island.
The mountains which enclosed it were great and beautiful, and
sheltered it from the north wind. A fosse 10,000 stades long,
one stade broad, and a hundred feet deep—a work, it may be
thought, of superhuman magnitude—was carried round the
whole oblong of the plain. The streams from the mountains
poured into it, and it had an outlet into the ocean. From the
furthest inland part of it parallel canals were cut through the
plain at intervals of one hundred stades, and these were con-
nected by cross canals. By means of this system of canals,
timber and fruits were brought down to the city. There were
two harvests, one after the winter rains, the other in summer,
raised by irrigation from the canals. The plain was divided
into 60,000 lots, each lot being a square with sides measuring
ten stades. Over those fit for military service in each lot was
set a Leader; and there were likewise Leaders of those who
dwelt in the mountains and other parts of the country—a vast
population—according to their settlements and villages. Each
Leader was bound to supply a sixth part of the cost of a chariot
of war—in this way 10,000 chariots were furnished; he was
also bound to supply two horses with riders, and a light chariot
for a pair of horses, with a shield-bearer to go on foot with it,
and a driver to ride in it and drive the horses; each Leader
was also bound to supply two heavy-armed soldiers, two archers,
two slingers, and, as skirmishers, three stone-throwers and
three men armed with javelins, also four sailors to help to man
the fleet of 1200 war-ships. Such was the armament of the
capital; and the nine provinces had also their own different
armaments, but it would be tedious to describe these.
In each of the nine provinces, as well as in the capital, its
own King was supreme over the lives of the citizens and the
administration of the laws; but the dealings of the ten
governments with one another were determined by the Com-
mandments of Poseidon, which were engraved by the first men
on a Table of orichalcum, which was preserved in the Temple of
Poseidon on the island-mountain. There, every fifth year and
every sixth year alternately, a meeting was held for the dis-
THE ATLANTIS MYTH 463
cussion of affairs and the judgment of transgressions; and this
is how they conducted their business:—There were sacred
bulls, which were kept within the precincts of Poseidon. The
Ten, who were left alone in the precincts, after they had prayed
to the god that they might take that bull which should be an
acceptable sacrifice to him, began to hunt the bulls, without
weapons of iron, with staves and nooses; and when they had
taken one of them they brought him to the Table of the Com-
mandments, and there struck him on the head and shed his
blood over the writing, and afterwards burnt his members, and
mingled a bowl, casting into it clots of his blood, one clot for
each of the Ten. Then they drew from the bowl in golden
vials, and poured a libation on the fire, and swore that they
would give judgments, and do all things, according to the
Commandments of their Father Poseidon written on the Table.
When they had drunken of the vials, and dedicated them in
the Temple, they supped; and after supper, when it was dark
and the sacrificial fire had died down, they put on azure robes
exceeding beautiful, and sat down on the ground about the
embers, all the lights in the Temple having been extinguished,
and there, in the darkness of night, judged and were judged ;
and when day dawned they wrote the judgments on a golden
tablet, and laid it by, along with their robes, for a memorial.
There were laws also regulating the behaviour of the Ten
Kings towards one another. They were not to make war
against one another; they were to aid any one of their
number if his subjects rose against him in rebellion and tried
to overthrow his dynasty; they were to take counsel together
about war and other matters, always recognising the suze-
rainty of the line of Atlas; and a majority of the Ten must
agree before a King could put to death one of his kinsmen.
For a long while the people of Atlantis preserved the
divine nature that was in them, and obeyed the laws and loved
the Gods, honouring virtue above gold and all other possessions,
and using their wealth in temperance and brotherly love. But
in course of time their divine nature, from admixture with
human nature, became feeble, and they were corrupted by their
prosperity, so that, in the end, their life, at the very time
when it seemed most glorious, was indeed most debased, being
filled with lust of wealth and power. Then Zeus, God of Gods,
464 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
whose kingship is the rule of law, perceiving that a noble
nation was in a wretched plight, and wishing to punish them
that they might be reformed by chastisement, summoned all
the Gods to an assembly in his most holy mansion, which, being
situate in the centre of the Cosmos, beholds all things which
partake of generation; and, when the Gods were assembled,
spake unto them thus :—
* τ * * ὩΣ *
THE ATLANTIS MYTH 465
OBSERVATIONS ON THE GEOLOGY AND GEOGRAPHY OF
Tne ATLANTIS Myti
Enough, I hope, has been said to indicate the importance
of the Atlantis Myth as setting forth the ideal of Imperial]
Hellas ; and now a few remarks may be added on the interest-
ing, though comparatively unimportant, topics of its Geology
and Geography.
Mr. Arthur Platt, in a very instructive article on “ Plato
and Geology,”! after quoting from the Critias (110 Ε) Plato's
account of the antediluvian Attica as a rolling champaign very
different from the broken rocky country of the present epoch,
says: “ΤῸ put this into the language of modern geology we
should say, ‘The whole of Attica has suffered great denuda-
tion, withstood by the underlying hard rocks, which now
accordingly stand out like the skeleton of the country.” Mr.
Platt does well in claiming for Plato, on the strength of the
Oritias, rank as an “original geologist.” “Sir Charles Lyell,”
he says, “in his history of the progress of geology,’ has en-
tirely omitted the name of Plato as an original geologist, and
I am not aware that this omission has ever been corrected.
Yet it is in reality a serious one. ... This statement of
denudation by Plato is, I believe, the first ever made, certainly
the first upon so grand a scale. It is true that Herodotus
Gi. 10 ff), when he speaks of the formation of the Delta
in Egypt, implies denudation of those districts which furnish
the alluvium ... but he does not call attention to this
necessary denudation, and does not seem to have appreciated
its consequences, his mind being fixed solely on the formation
of the new deposit. Plato therefore must have the credit of the
first distinct enunciation of a most important geological doc-
trine.” “The next question,’ Mr. Platt proceeds, “is: Is this
doctrine, however true in general, true of Attica in particular?”
and he quotes Lyell’s authority for an affirmative answer: “‘The
whole fauna,’ says Lyell, speaking of the remains of Miocene
age discovered by Gaudry in Attica, ‘attests the former ex-
tension of a vast expanse of grassy plains, where we have
1 Journal of Philology, vol. xviii. pp. 134-139 (1889).
2 Principles of Geology, chap. ii.
2H
466 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
now the broken and mountainous country of Greece,—plains
which were probably united with Asia Minor, spreading over
the area where the deep Egean Sea and its numerous islands
are now situated.’” Mr. Platt concludes his article with a
quotation from Gaudry (Animauax Fossiles et Géologie de
l’ Attique, 1802), in which that geologist gives his own per-
sonal experience of the effect of short downpours of rain, in
Attica and other parts of Greece, in carrying away vast quan-
tities of soil. “A man accustomed to such débacles,’ remarks
Mr. Platt, “might more easily talk of ‘one night’s rainfall ’
carrying off the whole surface of the Acropolis than could a
dweller in our climate.” In “compelling nature to do all her
work in a single night” Plato was doubtless wrong, as Mr.
Platt insists, from the point of view of geology as reformed by
Lyell ; at the same time, I would have the reader of the Critias
bear in mind that the geology of that work is, after all, the
geology of the Aetiological Myth, in which a result, which
Plato, as scientific observer, may well have conceived as due to
a secular process, was bound to be attributed to a “ catastrophe.”
A few words now on the Geography of the Myth. I do
not think that it is necessary to suppose, or that it is even
likely, that Plato had any sailors’ stories of a great land beyond
the Western Ocean on which to found his Myth. Nor can the
ostensible source of the Myth—Egypt—have been the real
source. Egyptologists know nothing of a lost Atlantis.” As
for the interesting circumstance that recent Physical Geography
assumes the former existence of a so-called “ Atlantis,” ἢ that,
of course, is without bearing on the question of the source of
Plato’s Myth.
Atlantis, I take it, is a creation of Plato’s own imagina-
tion *—a creation which he knows how to give verisimilitude
to by connecting with the accepted “scientific” doctrine of
terrestrial catastrophes (which we have already seen presented
in the Politicws Myth), and also with what was believed, in
1 Pages 450, 451.
2 So Sander, At/antis, p. 11, on the authority of Brugsch.
3 See H. J. Mackinder’s Britain and the British Seas, p. 98—‘‘a continental
‘ Atlantis’ of which Greenland and the Scoto-Icelandic rise may be remnants” ;
and see also pp. 100, 103, 149, 177, 179, 354, 355, 357.
4 This, the only reasonable view, as it seems to me, is that of Jowett (Intro-
duction to the Critias), Bunbury (History of Ancient Geography, i. 402), and
Sander, Atlantis.
THE ATLANTIS MYTH 467
his day, to be a fact——the shallow muddy nature of the ocean
outside the Pillars of Hercules. This supposed fact is recorded
by Seylax, whose Περίπλους, or Cirewmnavigation, was written
some time before the accession of Philip.' Seylax speaks of
“many trading stations of the Carthaginians, and much mud,
and high tides, and open seas, outside the Pillars of Hercules ”
---ἀπὸ ‘Hpaxrelov στηλῶν τῶν ἐν τῇ Evpwrn ἐμπόρια πολλὰ
Καρχηδονίων καὶ πηλὸς καὶ πλημμυρίδες καὶ πελάγη (Perip.
§ 1). “It is evident,” says Bunbury, commenting on this
passage,” “that these seas were never at this time visited by
Greek traders, while the confused notions of the obstacles to
their navigation, purposely diffused by the Carthaginians, were
all. that had reached our author’s ears.” Similarly, in the
Aristotelian Meteorologica, 1. 1. 354 a 22, we are told that
the sea outside the Pillars is shallow and muddy, and windless
--τὰ δ᾽ ἔξω στηλῶν βραχέα μὲν διὰ τὸν πηλόν, ἄπνοα δ᾽
ἐστὶν ὡς ἐν κοίλῳ τῆς θαλάττης ov’ons—which again shows,
Bunbury remarks,® “how little it was known to the Greek
mariners.” *
The Island of Atlantis, then, is a creation of Plato’s
imagination, rendered “probable” by the confirmation of
“science” and “ observed facts ”"—a creation intended to con-
trast with the καλλίπολις, the creation of the Republic—
intended to stand as “the negative,” as Sander puts it,’ of the
antediluvian Athens. The People of Poseidon (commerce)
must yield to the People of Athena (wisdom) and Hephaestus
(handicraft). Carthage, of course, may well have helped
Plato to seize the type described in this selfish Commercial
Atlantis, greedy of Empire—like England, as she appears to
her rivals.
While the attempt to trace Plato’s Atlantis to the tales of
Phoenician or other navigators who had visited the American
islands or continent is, I feel sure, as mistaken on the one
side as the Neo-Platonic exegesis is on the other side, which
interprets the Myth as an allegory of the struggle of matter
1 Bunbury, o.c. i. 385-386. 2 0.c. i. p. 386. 3 o.c. i, 398.
* The pseudo-Aristotelian de Mundo (see Rose de Ar. lib. ord. et auct. pp.
90-100) ‘‘ bears,’ says Bunbury (i. 398), ‘‘the unquestionable stamp of a much
more advanced stage of geographical knowledge than that of the age of
Aristotle.”” See also Grote’s Hist. of Greece, ii. 462 (ed. 1862).
5 F. Sander, Atlantis, p. 6.
468 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
against form,’ yet it must be noted that the Platonic creation
was not without practical influence on the age which produced
Columbus. Plato was then for the first time being read in Greek
by Western scholars,’ and his wonderful land across the ocean,
so circumstantially described in the Critias, came to be talked
about as a possibility at least. Maritime discovery soon con-
verted the possibility into a reality; and Plato was very
naturally credited with knowledge which a more critical
scholarship than that of the Renaissance now sees that he
could not have possessed.
Before closing these observations I must notice a scholium
on the opening sentences of the Republic which might be
taken to imply that the war between Athens and Atlantis
was a stock Athenian Myth. The scholium says that at the
Little Panathenaea a peplus was woven, and embroidered with
the War of Athens and Atlantis. Of course, it might be
argued that this custom was subsequent to Plato’s time, and
that the Myth on the peplus was taken from Plato; for Critias
introduces his story as unheard before. This, however, is very
unlikely. A popular ceremony can hardly have originated in
that way. If the scholiast is right, it is pretty plain that the
story of the War of Athens and Atlantis (in spite of what
Callias says about its being hitherto unknown) was known at
Athens long before Plato’s time. But the scholiast is not
1 See Sander, o.c. p. 17.
* The Atlantis Myth as it appears in the Critias was then being read in the
West for the first time; but the 7imaeus, to 53 ©, was already known in the
Latin version of Chalcidius (ci7c. Cent. V.). It is strange that Dante, who knew
the Zimacus in this version (either directly, or as Mr. Toynbee, Dante Dict. art.
‘*Timeo?,” thinks more probable, through Albertus Magnus and ὃ, Thomas
Aquinas), nowhere mentions or refers to Atlantis. The land which Ulysses
sights (nf. xxvi.) is the Mount of Purgatory in the Southern Hemisphere, not
Fortunate Islands or an Atlantis in the Western Ocean. The commentary of
Chalcidius does not touch the introductory part of the Timaeus, which is, how-
ever, contained in the version ; and Dante’s references to the Timaeus (the only
work of Plato of which he shows any special knowledge) are limited to topics
occurring in the Discourse of the chief speaker, with which alone the commentary
of Chalcidius deals. This seems to make for the view that Dante knew the
Timaeus only through his own study of the commentary, or through the
references of other writers to it and the corresponding part of the version, and
that he had no first-hand acquaintance with the version itself as a whole. If he
had read the first part of the version, it is difficult to understand his not having
been struck by the Destruction of Atlantis, and his not having made use of an
event so suitable for poetic treatment.
3 τὰ δὲ μικρὰ Παναθήναια κατὰ τὸν Πειραιᾶ ἐτέλουν, ἐν ols καὶ πέπλος ἄλλος
ἀνεῖτο τῇ θεῷ, καθ᾽ ὃν ἣν ἰδεῖν τοὺς ᾿Αθηναίους, τροφίμους ὄντας αὐτῆς, νικῶντας τὸν
πρὸς ᾿Ατλαντίνους ré\enov.—Schol. on Republ. 327 a.
THE ATLANTIS MYTH 469
right. His note is founded on a stupid misunderstanding
of a passage in the commentary of Proclus on the 7imaeus,
where the remark is made that Callias has woven a Myth
worthy of Athena, Proclus is evidently speaking metaphori-
cally. There is no question of the Atlantis Myth being
actually represented on a peplus.'
So far as the Republic scholiast is concerned, then, we may
adhere to our view that the Atlantis Myth is the product of
_ Plato’s own imagination.
1 See Sander, Atlantis, p. 13.
Republic 414 B—415 D
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470
THE MYTH OF THE EARTH-BORN
WE must try, says Socrates, to invent a Noble Fiction for the
good of the People which we have distributed into the three
classes of Rulers, Soldiers, and Workmen—a Fiction which,
if possible, we must get the Rulers themselves to believe, but,
failing that, the other citizens. And let our Fiction eschew
novelty: let it be framed after the pattern of those Founda-
tion-Myths which the Poets have made familiar. I hardly
know how to recommend my story to the belief, first of the
Rulers, then of the Soldiers, and then of the other citizens—
it will be difficult, indeed, to get them to believe it; yet, let
me make the venture—and tell them that “All the things
which they deemed were done unto them and came to pass
in their life, when we were bringing them up and instructing
them, were dreams, so to speak: all the while, in truth, ‘twas
under the Earth, in her womb, that they were being fashioned
and nourished, and their arms and all their accoutrement
wrought. Then, when the making of them was fully accom-
plished, the Earth, which is their Mother, sent them forth ;
and now must they take good counsel concerning the Land
wherein they are as concerning a Mother and Nurse, and
must themselves defend her, if any come against her, and also
have regard unto all their fellow-citizens, as unto brethren
—children, along with themselves, of one Mother, even of
Earth.”
We shall further say to them in pursuance of our
Myth :—
“ All ye of this City are brethren: but God, when He
fashioned you, mingled gold in the nature of those of you who
were Able to Rule; wherefore are they the most precious: and
silver in the nature of the Soldiers: and iron and copper in
471
472 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
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παραμέμικται, Kal ἐάν τε σφέτερος ἔκγονος ὑπόχαλκος ἢ
/ \
ὑποσίδηρος γένηται, μηδενὶ τρόπῳ κατελεήσουσιν, ἀλλὰ τὴν
a \ / Μ
τῇ φύσει προσήκουσαν τιμὴν ἀποδόντες ὥσουσιν εἰς
x /
δημιουργοὺς ἢ εἰς γεωργούς, Kal ἂν αὖ ἐκ τούτων TIS
/ A /
ὑπόχρυσος ἢ ὑπάργυρος φυῇ, τιμήσαντες ἀνάξουσι τοὺς
\ » / \ \ > >? / e lal ΝΜ
μὲν εἰς φυλακήν, τοὺς δὲ εἰς ἐπικουρίαν, ὡς χρησμοῦ ὄντος
a \ ε ς
τότε τὴν πόλιν διαφθαρῆναι, ὅταν αὐτὴν ὁ σίδηρος ἢ ὁ
fal 9S \ lal Lal
χαλκὸς φυλάξῃ. τοῦτον οὖν τὸν μῦθον ὅπως ἂν πεισθεῖεν,
»” \ / > lal » Ὁ , x > \
ἔχεις τινὰ μηχανήν; Οὐδαμῶς, ἔφη, ὅπως γ᾽ ἂν αὐτοὶ
Φ “ / > x ς / tan \ e Μ Ψ »
οὗτοι" ὅπως μέντ᾽ ἂν οἱ τούτων υἱεῖς καὶ οἱ ἔπειτα οἵ τ
> fa ’
ἄλλοι ἄνθρωποι of ὕστερον. ᾿Αλλὰ Kal τοῦτο, ἣν δ᾽ ἐγώ,
a A / /
εὖ ἂν ἔχοι πρὸς TO μᾶλλον αὐτοὺς THs πόλεώς τε Kal
ἀλλήλων κήδεσθαι: σχεδὸν γάρ τι μανθάνω ὃ λέγεις.
THE MYTH OF THE EARTH-BORN 473
the Husbandmen and Craftsmen. Now, albeit that, for the
most part, ye will engender children like unto their parents,
yet, inasmuch as ye are all of one kindred, it will sometimes
come to pass that from gold silver will be brought forth, and
from silver, golden offspring—yea, from any sort, any other.
And this is the first and chiefest commandment which God
giveth unto the Rulers, that they be Watchmen indeed, and
watch naught else so diligently as the issue of children, to see
which of these metals is mingled in their Souls: and if a child
of theirs have aught of copper or iron in him, they shall in
no wise have pity upon him, but shall award unto him the
place meet for his nature, and thrust him forth unto the
Craftsmen or Husbandmen; whereas, if there be any one born
among these with gold or silver in him, they shall take account
of this, and lead him up unto the place of the Watchmen,
or unto the place of the Soldiers; for hath not the Oracle
declared that the City will be destroyed in the day that Iron
or Copper shall keep watch ?”
This is the Myth. How are we to get them to believe
it? The generation to whom it is first told cannot possibly
believe it; but the next may, and the generations after.
Thus the Public Good may be served, after all, by our Noble
Fiction.
474 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
NoTE ON THE ΜΎΤΗ OF THE EARTH-BORN
The three metals of this Myth must be taken in connection
with the doctrine of Hesiod (O.D. 97 ff.); for which the reader
is referred to the section on Daemones among the Observations
on the Discourse of Diotima."
With regard to the fancy which inspires the Myth—the
fancy that “our youth was a dream’”—I would only remark
that Plato seems to me here to appeal to an experience which
is by no means uncommon in childhood—to the feeling that
the things here are doubles of things elsewhere. The produc-
tion of this feeling in his adult patient has been dwelt on? as
one of the chief means by which the Poet effects the purpose
of his art.
1 Pages 434 ff. supra. 2 Pages 34, 384 ff. supra.
THE MYTHOLOGY AND METAPHYSICS OF THE
CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS
THE purpose of this Concluding Part is to show that
Alexandrine Platonism, indebted for its chief tenets to the
mythology of the Z'imaeus, Phaedrus Myth, and Discourse of
Diotima, has been, and still is, an important influence in
Modern Philosophy.
Our chief concern will be with the “ Cambridge Platonists ”
of the seventeenth century ; but we shall keep a watchful eye
throughout upon their successors, the English Idealists of the
present day.
Before we consider the central doctrine of the Cambridge
Platonists and compare it with that of the English Idealists
of the present day, we must try to realise the environment of
the former. It was, in one word, “academic.” That, in the
seventeenth century, meant “theological.” Their paramount
interest was in Theology. They brought to the cultivation of
Theology, first, classical, patristic, and rabbinical learning, and
secondly, physical science, Cartesian—and Newtonian, if I may
be allowed so to call the reformed science which was already
all but ripe for Newton’s great discovery.
With regard to their Learning:—It was that of the
Renaissance, 1.6. Platonic, not Aristotelian. The learning of
the medieval Church had been Aristotelian; and the great
Myth of that Church, the Divina Commedia, sprang into life
out of the ashes of Aristotelianism. Antagonism to the
Roman Church had, doubtless, much to do with the Platonic
revival, which spread from Italy. Ficino, the great Florentine
Platonist, took the place of Thomas Aquinas, and is the
authority the Cambridge Platonists are always found appeal-
ing to. Their Platonism, moreover, was that of Plato the
475
470 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
mythologist, not that of Plato the dialectician ; that is, it was
Alexandrine Platonism which attracted them, especially as
its doctrine had been used by Philo to interpret the Old
Testament, and by Origen and other Fathers to set forth
the philosophy of the Christian mysteries, on lines common
to them with Plotinus.
Philo, whose method of exegesis has been referred to in
the section on Allegory,’ never thought of doubting that
Platonism and the Jewish Scriptures had real affinity to each
other, and hardly perhaps asked himself how the affinity was
to be accounted for; but the English Platonists, imitators of
his exegetical method, felt themselves obliged to satisfy doubts
and answer questions. To make good the applicability of the
Platonic philosophy to the exegesis of the Holy Scriptures,
they felt, with Aristobulus and Numenius, that it was
important to be able to show that Plato was Moses Atticus.
In the Preface to his Conjectura Cabbalistica, or a Conjectural
Essay of interpreting the mind of Moses in the three first
Chapters of Genesis, according to a threefold Cabbala, viz.,
literal, philosophical, mystical, or divinely moral (1662), Dr.
Henry More writes (p. 3) :—
Moses seems to have been aforehand, and prevented the subtilest
and abstrusest inventions of the choicest philosophers that ever
appeared after him to this very day. And further presumption
of the truth of this Philosophical Cabbala is that the grand mysteries
therein contained are most-what the same that those two eximious
philosophers, Pythagoras and Plato, brought out of Egypt, and the
parts of Asia, into Europe, and it is generally acknowledged by
Christians that they both had their philosophy from Moses. And
Numenius the Platonist speaks out plainly concerning his master :
What is Plato but Moses Atticus? And for Pythagoras, it is a
thing incredible that he and his followers should make such a
deal of doe with the mystery of Numbers, had he not been
favoured with a sight of Moses his creation of the world in six
days, and had the Philosophick Cabbala thereof communicated to
him, which mainly consists in Numbers.
Again in the same work (ch. iii. § 3, p. 100) he writes :-—
1 Pages 234 ff. supra.
2 Aristobulus asserted the existence of a much older translation of the Law
from which Plato and the Greeks stole their philosophy. Numenius is the
author of the phrase Mwiiofs ἀττικίζων : see Dr. Bigg’s Christian Platonists of
Alexandria, p. 6.
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 477
That Pythagoras was acquainted with the Mosaical or Jewish
Philosophy, there is ample testimony of it in writers; as of
Aristobulus an Egyptian Jew in Clemens Alexandrinus, and
Josephus against Appion, S. Ambrose adds that he was a Jew
himself. Clemens calls him τὸν ἐξ Ἑβραίων φιλόσοφον, the
Hebrew Philosopher, 1 might cast hither the suffrages of Justin
Martyr, Johannes Philoponus, Theodoret, Hermippus in Origen
against Celsus, Porphyrius, and Clemens again, who writes that it
was a common fame that Pythagoras was a disciple of the Prophet
Ezekiel. And though he gives no belief to the report, yet that
learned antiquary Mr. Selden seems inclinable enough to think it
true... . Besides all these, Iamblichus also affirms that he lived
at Sidon his native country, where he fell acquainted with the
Prophets and Successors of one Mochus the Physiologer or Natural
Philosopher —ovvéBarte τοῖς Μώχου τοῦ φυσιολόγου προφήταις
ἀπογόνοις " which, as Mr Selden judiciously conjectures, is to be
read τοῖς Μωσέως «.7.A. . . . Wherefore it is very plain that
Pythagoras had his Philosophy from Moses . . . and now I have
said this much of Pythagoras, there will be less need to insist
upon Plato and Plotinus, their Philosophy being the same that
Pythagoras’s was, and so alike applicable to Moses his text.
So much, by way of specimen, to indicate the kind of
evidence by which Plato is proved to be Moses Atticus. The
proof, as managed by both More and Cudworth, calls into
requisition a vast amount of uncritical learning. One has to
read these learned lucubrations to estimate the revolution
wrought by Bentley.
One of the oddest results of the desire of the Cambridge
Platonists to show the derivation of Pythagoreanism and
Platonism from the Mosaic philosophy was the thesis main-
tained by them that the Mosaic philosophy was an atomistic
system—a system which Pythagoras and Plato borrowed and
kept in comparative purity, but which Democritus (the
Hobbes of antiquity—see Cudworth, Jntellectual System, vol. i.
p- 276, ed. Mosheim and Harrison) corrupted into atheism.
The true Mosaic atomism, or physical science, was of such a
nature as to make it necessary to postulate God as source of
motion; whereas Democritus and modern materialists explain
everything by blind mechanical principles. But why this
desire to make out the true philosophy—that of Moses and
the Greeks who retained the Mosaic tradition—atomistic ?
Because the Cartesian natural philosophy was “atomistic,” i.e.
478 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
mathematical and mechanical. This was the natural philo-
sophy in vogue—the natural philosophy which was reforming
Physics and Astronomy, and was about to bring forth Newton.
It need not surprise us, then, if we look at the matter atten-
tively, that these alumni of Cambridge wished to show that
Moses taught—allegorically, it is true—the Cartesian or
mechanical philosophy. It was as if theologians of our own
day were anxious to show that the account of the Creation in
Genesis, or, if that would be too paradoxical, belief in a Special
Providence, is compatible with Darwinism. It is true that
More and Cudworth, especially the latter, are not entirely
satisfied with the Cartesian theology, although they accept the
Cartesian mathematical physics as giving a correct explanation
of natural phenomena. It was indeed “atomism” in its
genuine Mosaic form which Descartes revived, not the
atheistic Democritean atomism; for he posits an “ Immaterial
Substance”; but he leaves this Substance, as First Principle,
too little to do. While recognising immaterial cogitative
substance as distinct from extended material substance, he
falls into the error of identifying cogitative substance entirely
with consciousness, and for the “ plastic soul”—a spiritual or
immaterial, though non-conscious, principle in Nature—he
substitutes blind “ mechanism,” thus depriving theology of the
argument from design. This is the gist of a remarkable
criticism of Descartes which occurs in Cudworth’s Jntellectual
System, vol. i. pp. 275, 276. It is well worth reading in
connection with criticism of the same tendency to be met with
in such modern books as Professor Ward’s Naturalism and
Agnosticism.
More, in a notable passage in the Preface General to his
Collected Works (1662), speaks of Platonism as the soul, and
Cartesianism as the body, of the philosophy which he applies
to the interpretation of the Text of Moses. This philosophy
is the old Jewish-Pythagorean Cabbala, which teaches the
motion of the Earth and the Pre-existence of the Soul. The
motion of the Earth as Mosaic doctrine he discusses in the
sixth chapter of his Appendia to the Defence of the Philo-
sophick Cabbala (p. 126), and the passage in which he deals
with an objection against ascribing the doctrine to Moses may
be noted as an instructive specimen of the method of these
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 479
Cambridge Platonists. The objection—a sufficiently formid-
able one on the face of it—is that the doctrine does not
appear in the Mosaic writings. More takes up the bold
position that, although the doctrine of “the motion of the
Earth has been lost and appears not in the remains of the
Jewish Cabbala, this can be no argument against its once
having been a part thereof.”
Though the fame of this part of the Cabbala (he says) be
in a manner extinct among the Jews, yet that it was once the
hidden doctrine of the learned of that nation seems to me
sufficiently credible from what Plutarch writes of Numa Pompilius.
For his so strictly prohibiting the use of images in divine worship
is very apparently Mosaical . . . and Numa’s instructor is said to
be not a Grecian but βάρβαρός τις βελτίων Πυθαγόρου, some
Barbarian greater and better than Pythagoras himself; and
where, I pray you, was such an one to be found, unless descended
from the Jews? .. . It seems exceedingly probable from all these
circumstances that Numa was both descended from the Jews and
imbued with the Jewish religion and learning. What's this to
the purpose ? or how does it prove the motion of the Earth once
to have been part of the Judaical Tradition or Cabbala? Only
thus much: that Numa. . . knowing there was no such august
temple of God as the Universe itself, and that to all the inhabitants
thereof it cannot but appear round from every prospect, and that
in the midst there must be an ever-shining Fire, I mean the Sun ;
in imitation hereof he built a round temple, which was called the
temple of Vesta, concerning which Plutarch speaks plainly and
apertly, “That Numa is reported to have built a round temple of
Vesta for the custody of a fire in the midst thereof that was never
to go out: not imitating herein the figure of the Earth, as if she
was the Vesta, but of the Universe; in the midst whereof the
Pythagoreans placed the Fire, and called it Vesta or Monas, and
reckoned the Earth neither immovable, nor in the midst of the
Mundane Compasse, but that it is carried about the Fire or Sun,
and is none of the first and chief elements of the World.” What
can be more plain than these testimonies ?
The learning of the Cambridge Platonists, of which the
above passage enables us to take the measure, is expended in
two main directions, pointed out by Philo and by Plotinus
respectively. Philo was their master in Scriptural exegesis
—the exegesis by which dogma was established (although
Plotinus, too, helped them here, especially with regard to the
doctrine of the Trinity); but Plotinus was especially their
480 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
master in what concerned devotional religion. It would be
tedious to quote passages in which they employ Philo’s
exegetical method (already illustrated in another part of this
work) in order to establish dogma: it will be sufficient merely
to mention More’s Philosophick Cabbala, ch. 1, his Defence of
the Philosophick Cabbala, ch. 1, Cudworth’s Intellectual System
of the Universe, vol. 11. p. 366 and p. 406 (ed. Mosheim and
Harrison), and WNorris’s Reason and Religion (1689), pp.
133, 134; but a few words respecting the aids to devotion
which they derived from their Cabbala may not be out of
place here.
First, it is to be observed that ecstasy was the general
form in which they tended to envisage religious devotion ;
and here, doubtless, Plotinus was their model. The ecstasy
of Plotinus is an obscure phenomenon, probably deserving the
attention of the physiologist as well as of the theologian ;* it
will be enough, by way of indicating its nature, to refer to
Cudworth, who quotes” a well-known passage in Porphyry’s
Life of his friend and master Plotinus :—
And that we may here give a taste of the mystical theology and
enthusiasm of these Platonists too, Porphyrius in his Life of
Plotinus affirmeth, that both Plotinus and himself had sometimes
experience of a kind of ecstatic union with the first of these three
gods [Cudworth here refers to the Platonic Trinity], that which
is above mind and understanding: ‘‘ Plotinus often endeavouring
to raise up his mind to the first and highest God, that God some-
times appeared to him, who hath neither form nor idea, but is
placed above intellect, and all that is intelligible; to whom [
Porphyrius affirm myself to have been once united in the sixty-
eighth year of my age.” And again afterwards: “ Plotinus’ chief
aim and scope was to be united to and conjoined with the Supreme
God, who is above all; which scope he attained unto four several
times, whilst myself was with him, by a certain ineffable energy.”
That is, Plotinus aimed at such a kind of rapturous and ecstatic
union with the τὸ ἕν, and τἀγαθόν, “the first of the three highest
gods” (called the One and the Good), as by himself is described
towards the latter end of this last book (πη. vi. 9), where he
calls it ἐπαφήν, and παρουσίαν ἐπιστήμης κρείττονα, and τὸ ἑαυτῶν
κέντρον τῷ οἷον πάντων κέντρῳ συνάπτειν, “a kind of tactual
' For modern cases I would refer to Professor James’s Varieties of Religious
Experience (1902).
2 Intell, System, ii. 315, 316.
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 481
union,” and “a certain presence better than knowledge,” and “ the
joining of our own centre, as it were, with the centre of the
universe,”
This doctrine, or rather practice, of ecstasy, especially
identified with the name of Plotinus, appeals strongly to the
English Platonists, who understand it, however, not as a
mysterious trance, but as a “ Holy Life,” ecstatic in the sense
of being dead to the flesh and the vanities of the world.
Death to the flesh and the world is secured by—nay consists
in," Contemplation of the glorious and lovable nature of God.
“The highest and last term of Contemplation,” says Norris,’
“is the Divine Essence. Whence it follows necessarily that
the mind which sees the Divine Essence must be totally and
thoroughly absolved from all commerce with the corporeal
senses, either by Death or some ecstatical and rapturous
Abstraction. So true is that which God said to Moses, Thou
canst not see my face, for there shall no man see me, and
live.” Similarly, John Smith, in his Discourse on “The true
way or method of attaining Divine knowledge,” speaks of
a good Life as the πρόληψις or Fundamental Principle of
Divine Science: “If any man will do his will, he shall know
the doctrine, whether it be of God.”
“Were I indeed to define Divinity, I should rather call it a
Divine Life, than a Divine Science ; it being something rather to be
understood by a Spiritual Sensation, than by any verbal descrip-
tion.”® , . . “Divinity is not so well perceived by a subtile wit,
ὥσπερ αἰσθήσει κεκαθαρμένῃ, as by a purified sense, as Plotinus
phraseth it.”* ... “The Platonists . . . thought the minds of
men could never be purged enough from those earthly dregs of
Sense and Passion, in which they were so much steeped, before
they could be capable of their divine metaphysics; and therefore
they so much solicit a χωρισμὸς ἀπὸ τοῦ σώματος, a separation
from the Body, in all those who would καθαρῶς φιλοσοφεῖν,
sincerely understand Divine Truth; for that was the scope of
their Philosophy. This was also intimated by them in defining
Philosophy to be μελέτη θανάτου, a meditation of Death; aiming
herein at only a moral way of dying, by loosening the Soul from
1 Cf. Aristotle, ΚΕ. N. x. 8. 8. 1178 Ὁ 32, εἴη ἂν ἡ εὐδαιμονία θεωρία τις.
2 Reason and Religion (1689), p. 3. It is a book ‘‘of a devotional nature
written for the use and benefit of the Learned Reader,” ‘‘ whose Heart may want
as much to be inflamed as the other’s Head [7.e. the head of the unlearned
person for whose use devotional books are mostly written] does to be instructed.”
3 Smith’s Select Discourses (1660), p. 2. ‘oe Bp 10.
21
482 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
the Body and this Sensitive life . . . and therefore, besides those
ἀρεταὶ καθαρτικαί by which the Souls of men were to be separated
from Sensuality ... they devised a further way of separation
. which was their JMJathemata, or mathematical contemplations
. . . besides many other ways they had, whereby to rise out of
this dark body; ἀναβάσεις ἐκ τοῦ σπηλαίου, several steps and
ascents out of this miry cave of mortality, before they could set
any sure footing with their intellectual part in the Land of Light
and Immortal Being.”+ ‘‘The Priests of Mercury, as Plutarch
tells us, in the eating of their holy things, were wont to cry out
γλυκὺ ἡ ἀλήθεια, Sweet is Truth. But how sweet and delicious
that Truth is which holy and heaven-born Souls feed upon in their
mysterious converses with the Deity, who can tell but they that
taste it? When Season once is raised by the mighty force of the
Divine Spirit into a converse with God, it is turned into Sense :
that which before was only Faith well built upon sure principles
(for such our Science may be) now becomes Vision. We shall then
converse with God rw vw, whereas before we conversed with him
only τῇ διανοίᾳ, with our Discursive faculty, as the Platonists were
wont to distinguish. Before we laid hold on him only λόγῳ
ἀποδεικτικῴ, With a struggling, agonistical, and contentious Reason,
hotly combating with difficulties and sharp contests of diverse
opinions, and labouring in it self in its deductions of one thing
from another; we shall then fasten our minds upon him λόγῳ
ἀποφαντικῴῷ, With such a serene understanding, γαλήνῃ voepa, such
an intellectual calmness and serenity as will present us with a
blissful, steady, and invariable sight of him.” 3
It may perhaps be thought that in the foregoing passage
Smith oversteps a little the line which divides “ ecstasy ” as
“Holy Life” from “ecstasy” as temporary state of exalted
religious feeling; and perhaps in the following passage too,
from his Discourse of the Immortality of the Soul, he may be
thought to commit the same fault; yet the passage seems
to me to contain what is so valuable for our understanding
of the influence of Platonism—as mythological, rather than
logical system—on present-day religious thought, that I
venture to transcribe it, together with the notable quotation
from Plotinus included in it :—
Though in our contentious pursuits after science, we cast
Wisdom, Power, Eternity, Goodness, and the like into several
1 0.c. pp. 10, 11.
2 o.c. pp. 16, 17. This and the foregoing quotations are all from the
Discourse concerning the True Way or Method of attaining to Divine Knowledge.
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 483
formalities, so that we may trace down Science in a constant chain
of Deductions; yet in our naked Intuitions and Visions of them,
we clearly discern that Goodness and Wisdom lodge together,
Justice and Mercy kiss each other: and all these and whatsoever
pieces else the cracked glasses of our Reasons may sometime
break Divine and Intelligible Being into, are fast knit up together
in the invincible bonds of Hternity. And in this sense is that
notion of Proclus descanting upon Plato's riddle of the Soul ws
γεννητὴ καὶ ἀγέννητος, as if it were generated and yet not generated,
to be understood ; χρόνος ἅμα καὶ αἰὼν περὶ τὴν ψυχήν, the Soul
partaking of Time in its broken and particular conceptions and
apprehensions, and of Eternity in its Comprehensive and Stable
Contemplations. I need not say that when the Soul is once got
up to the top of this bright Olympus, it will then no more doubt
of its own Immortality, or fear any Dissipation, or doubt whether
any drowsy sleep shall hereafter seize upon it: no, it will then
feel itself grasping fast and safely its own Immortality, and view
itself in the Horizon of Eternity. In such sober kind of ecstasies
did Plotinus find his own Soul separated from his body ... “I
being often awakened into a sense of my self, and being
sequestered from my body, and betaking myself from all things
else into my self; what admirable beauty did I then behold.” .. .
But here we must use some caution, lest we should arrogate too
much to the power of our own Souls, which indeed cannot raise
up themselves into that pure and steady contemplation of true
Being; but will rather act with some multiplicity or ἑτερότης (as
they speak) attending it. But thus much of its high original
may appear to us, that it can correct itself for dividing and disjoin-
ing therein, as knowing all to be every way one most entire and
simple. . . . We shall add but this one thing further to clear the
Soul’s Immortality, and it is indeed that which breeds a true sense
of it—viz., True and real goodness. Our highest speculations of the
Soul may beget a sufficient conviction thereof within us, but yet
it is only True Goodness and Virtue in the Souls of men that can
make them both know and love, believe and delight themselves in
their own Immortality. Though every good man is not so logically
subtile as to be able by fit mediums to demonstrate his own
Immortality, yet he sees it in a higher light: his Soul being
purged and enlightened by true Sanctity is more capable of those
divine irradiations, whereby it feels itself in conjunction with
God, and by a συναύγεια (as the Greeks speak), the Light of divine
goodness mixing itself with the light of its own Reason, sees more
clearly not only that it may, if it please the Supreme Deity, of
its own nature exist eternally, but also that it shall doso....
It is indeed nothing else that makes men question the Immor-
tality of their Souls, so much as their own base and earthly loves,
484 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
which first makes them wish their Souls were not immortal, and
then think they are not; which Plotinus hath well observed and
accordingly hath soberly pursued this argument: ... “Let us
now (saith he, nn. iv. 7. 10) consider a Soul, not such a one as
is immersed into the Body . .. but such a one as hath cast
away Concupiscence and Anger and other Passions. . . . Such
a one as this will sufficiently manifest that all Vice is un-
natural to the Soul, and something acquired only from abroad,
and that the best Wisdom and all other Virtues lodge in a purged
Soul, as being allied to it. If, therefore, such a Soul shall reflect
upon itself, how shall it not appear to itself to be of such a kind
of nature as Divine and Eternal Essences are? For Wisdom and
true Virtue being Divine Effluxes can never enter into any
unhallowed and mortal thing: it must, therefore, needs be Divine,
seeing it is filled with a Divine nature διὰ συγγένειαν καὶ τὸ
ὁμοούσιον, by its kindred and consanguinity therewith. . . . Con-
template, therefore, the Soul of man, denuding it of all that which
itself is not, or let him that does this, view his own Soul; then
he will believe it to be immortal, when he shall behold it ἐν τῷ
νοητῷ καὶ ἐν τῷ καθαρῷ, fixed in an Intelligible and pure nature ;
he shall then behold his own intellect contemplating not any
sensible thing, but eternal things, with that which is eternal, that
is, with itself, looking into the intellectual world, being itself
made all lucid, intellectual, and shining with Sun-beams of eternal
Truth, borrowed from the First Good, which perpetually rayeth
forth his Truth upon all intellectual beings. One thus qualified
may seem without any arrogance to take up that saying of
Empedocles, χαίρετ, ἐγὼ δ᾽ ὑμῖν θεὸς apBporos—Farewell all
earthly allies, I am henceforth no mortal wight, but an immortal
angel, ascending up into Divinity, and reflecting upon that likeness
of it which I find in myself. When true Sanctity and Purity
shall ground him in the knowledge of divine things, then shall the
inward sciences that arise from the bottom of his own Soul display
themselves; which, indeed, are the only true sciences; for the
Soul runs not out of itself to behold Temperance and Justice
abroad, but its own light sees them in the contemplation of its
own being and that divine essence which was before enshrined
within itself.” Ὁ
So much for Smith’s presentation of the “Idea of Soul” ;
it owes its main features to the doctrine of ἔρως and ἀνάμνησις
set forth in the Phaedrus Myth; and the “regulative” value
of the “Idea” is finely appreciated. The regulative value of
the “ Idea of God” is as finely appreciated in the Discourse of
1 6.6. pp. 99-105.
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 485
the Hwistence and Nature of God, where he says,’ “God is not
better defined to us by our understandings than by our wills
and affections,” and notes * the pre-eminence, in Platonism, of
τὸ ἀγαθόν, which begets in us τὸ ἐρωτικὸν πάθος. Similarly,
in his Discourse of the Jewish Notion of a Legal Righteousness,
he contrasts the doctrine of Works set forth by the rabbinical
writers with the Christian doctrine of Faith, and shows that
the latter amounts to a doctrine of “divine grace and bounty
as the only source of righteousness and happiness.” St. Paul’s
doctrine of “Justification by Faith” is to be explained pla-
tonically as ὁμοίωσις τῷ θεῷ. It is the justification of a sancti-
fied nature—a nature which, by the grace of God, has been
made a partaker of His life and strength. In Faith there is
a true conjunction and union of the Souls of men with God,
whereby they are made capable of true blessedness. “The Law
is merely an external thing consisting in precepts which have
only an outward administration” —it is the διακονία γράμματος
καὶ θανάτου : but “the administration of the Gospel is intrin-
sical and vital in living impressions upon the Souls of men”
—it is the διακονία πνεύματος. “By which,” he argues in
a significant passage, “the Apostle (2 Cor. iii. 6, 7) cannot
mean the History of the Gospel, or those eredenda propounded
to us to believe; for this would make the Gospel itself as
much an external thing as the Law was, and according to the
external administration as much a killing or dead letter as
the Law was. . . . But, indeed, he means a vital eflua from God
upon the Souls of men, whereby they are made partakers of
Life and Strength from Him.”
I doubt we are too nice Logicians sometimes in distinguishing
between the Glory of God and our own Salvation. We cannot in a
true sense seek our own Salvation more than the Glory of God,
which triumphs most and discovers itself most effectually in the
salvation of Souls; for indeed this salvation is nothing else but a
true participation of the Divine Nature. Heaven is not a thing
without us, nor is Happiness anything distinct from a true con-
junction of the mind with God in a secret feeling of his goodness
and reciprocation of affection to him, wherein the Divine Glory
most unfolds itself. . . Τὸ love God above ourselves is not indeed
so properly to love him above the salvation of owr Souls, as if these
* ac, p 1387. 2 a.c. p. 139. 3 ac. p. 311. 4 ac p. 312.
486 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
were distinct things ; but it is to love him above all our own sinful
affections, and above our particular Beings. . . . We cannot be com-
pletely blessed till the Jdea boni, or the Ipswm Bonum, which is
God, exercise its sovereignty over all the faculties of our Souls,
rendering them as like to itself as may consist with their proper
capacity.!
I have quoted Smith at considerable length, that the
reader may appreciate the place of the Platonist doctrine, or
rather ἄσκησις, of “ecstasy ” in the Life and Philosophy of the
Cambridge school. It would be easy to quote similar passages
from Cudworth, More, and Norris; but Smith seems to me to
“keep his head” better than the others in the intoxicating
Neo-Platonic atmosphere, and, moreover, to present “ ecstasy ”
in a form which can be more easily recognised as connecting
link between the doctrine of ἔρως and ἀνάμνησις set forth in
the Phaedrus Myth and the doctrine of the “ Presence of the
Eternal Consciousness in my Consciousness,” which meets us
in the Epistemology and Ethics of T. H. Green and his school.
Leaving the learning of the Cambridge Platonists, let us
now look at their science. Their science was Cartesian—that
is, it was physics and astronomy treated mathematically,
according to mechanical principles, the application of which
by Copernicus and Galileo, in the latter branch, had already
overthrown the Aristotelian tradition, and produced an intellec-
tual revolution, which can be compared only with that which
Darwinism has produced in our own day. Natural science
has always been influential in England in giving impulse to
Philosophy, and even to Theology. Locke’s Essay was occa-
sioned and inspired by the activity of the Royal Society ;
Berkeley’s Idealism found expression in a monograph on the
physiology of vision; and it was not by mere accident that
the University of Newton was the alma mater of the English
Platonists.
They received the new astronomy with enthusiasm. They
were inspired by it. Like Xenophanes, they looked up at the
Heavens and said, “The One is God.”* “One great Order”
and “Infinite Space” are the scientific ideas which dominate
1 0.c, pp. 410, 411, from ‘ Discourse of the Excellency and Nobleness of
True Religion,”
2. Arist. Met. A 5, 986 Ὁ 24, els τὸν ὅλον οὐρανὸν ἀποβλέψας τὸ ὃν εἶναί φησι
τὸν θεόν,
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 487
Cudworth and his friends, and bring conviction to their belief
—otherwise established by the authority of revelation and
Platonic philosophy—in a “Governor of the Universe,” a
“Perfect and Infinite Being,” a God who, in Plato’s moral
phrase, is “'The Good,” and yet, in scientific sense, may not
unfitly be conceived spatially—-as by Cudworth, in a strange
passage : '|—
It is certain that there can be no mode, accident, or affection
of Nothing; and consequently, that nothing cannot be extended
nor measurable, But if space be neither the extension of body,
nor yet of substance incorporeal, then must it of necessity be the
extension of nothing, and the affection of nothing; and nothing
must be measurable by yards and poles. We conclude, therefore,
that from this very hypothesis of the Democritic and Epicurean
Atheists, that space is a nature distinct from body, and positively
infinite, it follows undeniably that there must be some incorporeal
substance whose affection its extension is, and because there can
be nothing infinite but only the Deity, that it is the infinite exten-
sion of an incorporeal Deity.
To this strange passage let me append some stanzas from
More’s Philosophickall Poems, which show how the Copernican
astronomy impressed his imagination—how the centrality of
the Platonic ἀγαθόν in the intelligible world seemed to him to
be imaged by the centrality of the Sun in the visible world.
He has been speaking of the “ stiff standers for ag’d Ptolemee,”
and proceeds : °—
But let them bark like band-dogs at the moon
That mindless passeth on in silencie :
Ill take my flight above this outward Sunne,
Regardless of such fond malignitie,
Lift my self up in the Theologie
Of heavenly Plato. There 11 contemplate
The Arch type of this Sunne, that bright Idee
Of steddie Good, that doth his beams dilate
Through all the worlds, all lives and beings propagate.
One steddy Good, centre of Essences,
Unmoved Monad, that Apollo hight,
The Intellectual Sunne whose energies
Are all things that appear in vital light,
1 Intellectual System, vol. iii. p. 232 (ed. Mosheim and Harrison).
2 Psychozoia, or Life of the Soul, pp. 157 ff.
488
THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Whose brightness passeth every creature’s sight.
Yet round about him, stird with gentle fire,
All things do dance ; their being, action, might,
They thither do direct with strong desire,
To embosom him with close embracements they aspire.
Unseen, incomprehensible, He moves
About himself each seeking entity
That never yet shall find that which it loves.
No finite thing shall reach infinity,
No thing dispers’d comprehend that Unity ;
Yet in their ranks they seemly foot it round,
Trip it with joy at the world’s harmony,
Struck with the pleasure of an amorous stound,
So dance they with fair flowers from unknown root y-crowned.
Still falling short they never fail to seek,
Nor find they nothing by their diligence ;
They find repast, their lively longings eek
Rekindled still, by timely influence.
Thus all things in distinct corewmference
Move about Him that satisfies them all ;
Nor be they thus stird up by wary sense
Or foresight, or election rationall,
But blindly reel about the Heart of Lives centrall.
So doth the Earth, one of the erring seven,
Wheel round the fixéd Sunne, that is the shade
Of steddy Good, shining in this Out-heaven
With the rest of those starres that God hath made
Of baser matter, all which he array’d :
With his far-shining light. They sing for joy,
They frisque about in circulings unstay’d,
Dance through the liquid air, and nimbly toy,
While Sol keeps clear the sprite, consumes what may accloy.
The centre of each severall World’s a Sunne
With shining beams and kindly warming heat,
About whose radiant crown the Planets runne,
Like reeling moths around a candle light.
These all together one World I conceit.
And that even infinite such worlds there be,
That unexhausted Good that God is hight
A full sufficient reason is to me,
Who simple Goodnesse make the highest Deity.
The mathematical physics of Descartes and the Copernican
astronomy were welcomed with joy by the Cambridge Platonists,
as affording a far better “Argument from Design” for the
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 489
existence of God than had been afforded by the Ptolemaic
System, which, with its cumbrous commentary of Epicycles,
called the mind away from the wisdom of the Creator to the
ingenuity of man. The Copernican astronomy, by taking the
fixed stars out of the solid sphere in which the Ptolemaic
astronomy held them fast, and showing them to be central
suns round which, as round the sun of our system, planets
revolve in liquid aether, forces on us the thought that there is
an infinity of such solar systems, or worlds, not a rounded-off
universe, beyond whose jlammantia moenia there is mere
nothingness. “The infinity of worlds” was accepted as proof
of the existence of an infinite, omnipresent Deity, an Incor-
poreal Principle—a circle “whose centre is everywhere, and
circumference nowhere.” <A “finite universe” would be an
argument for a “Corporeal Deity.” This is why the Cam-
bridge Platonists are so anxious to show that the Pytha-
goreans and Platonists held, with Moses, the doctrine of the
motion of the Earth. “Modern Science” had convinced them
that this was the only doctrine consistent with a spiritual
philosophy.
The profound theological influence which the vast prospect
opened up by the reformed astronomy exercised over the minds
of men in the seventeenth century cannot be better brought
home to us than by a passage in which Newton himself puts
his own theological belief on record : 7—
The six Primary Planets revolve round the Sun in circles
concentrical to the Sun, with the same direction of their motion,
and very nearly in the same Plane. The moons (or secondary
planets) revolve round the Earth, Jupiter, and Saturn, with the
same direction of their motion, and very nearly in the plane of
the orbs of the planets. And all these regular motions have not
their rise from mechanical causes, seeing the comets are carried in
orbs very eccentrical, and that very freely through all parts of
the Heavens. ... This most elegant system of planets and
comets could not be produced but by and under the Contrivance
and Dominion of an Intelligent and powerful Being. And, if the
fixed stars are the centres of such other systems, all these, being
framed by the like counsel, will be subject to the dominion of
One; especially seeing the Light of the fixed stars is of the same
1 More’s Philosophickall Poems, notes, p. 409.
2 Scholium generale at the end of the Principia. I avail myself of Maxwell’s
translation in his edition of Cumberland’s Laws of Nature.
490 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
nature with that of the Sun, and the Light of all these systems
passes mutually from one to another. And He has placed the
systems of the fixed stars at immense distances from one another,
lest they should mutually rush upon one another by their gravity.
He governs all things, not as the Soul of the World, but as the Lord
of the Universe; and because of His dominion, He is wont to be
called παντοκράτωρ, Universal Emperor. For God is a relative
word, and hath a relation to servants ; and the Deity is the Empire
of God, not over His own Body, as is the opinion of those who
make Him the Soul of the World, but over His servants. The
Supreme God is a Being, Eternal, Infinite, Absolutely Perfect ;
but a Being, however Perfect, without Dominion, is not Lord God.
. . . He governs all things, and knows all things which are done,
or which can be done. He is not Eternity and Infinity, but He is
Eternal and Infinite; He is not Duration and Space, but He
endures and is present. He endures always, and is present every-
where; and by existing always and everywhere, He constitutes
Duration and Space, Eternity and Infinity. Whereas every
particle of Space is always, and every indivisible moment of
Duration is everywhere, certainly the Framer and Lord of the
Universe shall not be never, nowhere. . . . We have not any notion
of the Substance of God. We know Him only by His properties
and attributes, and by the most wise and excellent structure of
Things, and by Final Causes; but we adore and worship Him on
account of His Dominion. For we worship Him as His servants ;
and God without Dominion, Providence, and Final Causes, is
nothing else but Fate and Nature. There arises no Variety in
Things from blind metaphysical necessity, which is always and
everywhere the same. All diversity in the Creatures could arise
only from the Ideas and Will of a necessarily-existent Being.
We speak, however, allegorically when we say that God sees,
hears, speaks, laughs, loves, hates, despises, gives, receives, rejoices,
is angry, fights, fabricates, builds, composes. For all speech con-
cerning God is borrowed, by Analogy or some Resemblance, from
human affairs. . . . So much concerning God, of Whom the Dis-
course from Phenomena belongs to Experimental Philosophy. . . .
The main business of Natural Philosophy is to argue from
Phenomena without feigning Hypotheses, and to deduce Causes
from Effects, till we come to the very First Cause, which certainly
is not mechanical.
Besides the better Argument from Design which the
reformed astronomy seemed to offer, there was also the
famous Cartesian argument from our Idea of a Perfect Being
to his Existence. Cudworth' seems to feel the difficulties
1 Intellectual System, vol. iii. pp. 38 ff.
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 491
connected with this argument, but is unwilling to declare
himself against it. More,’ however, who is less critical,
accepts it thankfully. I have already alluded to one serious
objection which Cudworth has to offer to the Cartesian system
—viz., that by substituting “mechanism” for the “ plastick
soul,” it leaves the immaterial substance, theoretically retained,
little, if anything, to do, and weakens immensely the value of
the argument from Design in Nature.2 However, the general
tendency of Cartesianism being favourable to religion, and
opposed to Hobbes, Cudworth is satisfied with merely warning
his readers against this particular flaw in the system. Holding
as he does a brief for Descartes, he argues that “ mechanism,”
in the Cartesian system, is so conceived as to necessitate the
assumption of the existence of an immaterial substance as ἀρχὴ
κινήσεως. He evidently attaches more value to this merit in
Cartesianism than to its proof of the Existence of God from
our Idea of him; and yet it is plainly not a very great merit
after all, if we are left with data from which we are, indeed,
compelled to infer an Immaterial Power or Force beyond dead
matter, but cannot infer Wisdom controlling that Power or
Force. We are not surprised, then, to find that Cudworth
and his school, Cartesians though they profess to be, are
very strenuous in maintaining the contrary of the Cartesian
doctrine which makes True and False, Right and Wrong,
depend entirely on the Will of God, and not rather on an
“Eternal Nature of Things,” or “Law of the Ideal World,”
logically distinct from, and prior to, the Will of God, in
accordance with which, however, the Will of God is always
exercised. Smith, indeed, the clearest head, I think, among
the English Platonists, is so well aware of the difficulty of
combining Cartesianism with Platonism that he touches but
lightly on the arguments for the existence of God supplied by
the former system, and dwells mainly on the evidence fur-
nished by man’s moral nature and sanctified heart. “A Holy
Life,’ he says, is the best and most compendious way to Right
Belief.” Of the two witnesses spoken of by Kant—“ The
starry Heaven above, and the Moral Law within ”—Smith
1 An Antidote against Atheism, Book i. chaps. 7 and 8, pp. 20 ff.
See p. 478 supra.
3 The True Way or Method of attaining to Divine Knowledge, p. 9.
492 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
chose the latter to found his theological belief upon—in this,
perhaps, more philosophical than Cudworth and More, the
greater lights of the school, who, without ignoring the “ argu-
ment from the heart,’ are inclined rather to look to “ science ”
—to “design in nature,” and to “ epistemology ”—for proof of
the existence of God.
For the Immortality of the Soul, the other cardinal
doctrine of Theology and Morals, Cudworth and More are very
busy in producing “scientific” evidence, and, on the whole,
find it easy to press the science of their day into the service
of the doctrine.
The starting-point of their scientific argument is, that the
Soul is an “incorporeal substance.” Systems of Philosophy,
both ancient and modern, are distinguished as “ theistic” and
“ atheistic,” according as they profess or deny the doctrine of
“incorporeal substance.” The saving merit of Descartes, as we
have seen, is that, after all, he recognises “incorporeal sub-
stance.” On the other hand, Hobbes denies it. In the ninth
chapter of the First Book of The Immortality of the Soul,
More examines Hobbes’ disproof of Spirit or incorporeal
substance. Hobbes’ argument is, “Every substance has
dimensions; but a Spirit has no dimensions; therefore there
is no spiritual substance.” “ Here,’ writes More} “I con-
fidently deny the assumption. For it is not the character-
istikall of a Lody to have dimensions, but to be impenetrable.
All Substance has dimensions—that is, Length, Breadth, and
Depth; but all has not «mpenetrability. See my letters to
Monsieur Des Cartes.” This refutation of Hobbes falls back
on the definitions of Spirit and of Body which More has given
in an earlier part of the same treatise —Spirit is defined as
“a Substance penetrable and indiscerpible” ; Body, as “ἃ Sub-
stance impenetrable and discerpible.” This definition he
amends in the chapter against Hobbes, putting it thus :—
Spirit or Incorporeal is “ Extended Substance, with activity
and indiscerpibility, leaving out impenetrability.” More thus
plainly ranges himself with those who assumed an extended
incorporeal substance; but, of course, there were many incor-
porealists, among whom was Plotinus,® who regarded Spirit as
1 Page 41. 2 Page 21.
3 See Cudworth, Jntell. System, vol. iii. p. 386.
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 493
unextended, Cudworth compares the opposite views of these
two classes of incorporealists at great length, and ends’ by
leaving the question open, although one might gather that he
inclines to the view favoured by More from his speaking of
Space as incorporeal substance, with the attribute of exten-
sion, and infinite ; and therefore as equivalent to God, who is
the only infinite substance.’
But the “ incorporeal substance” of Descartes, though a
good enough “ scientific” beginning for a doctrine of the
Immortality of the Soul, is only a beginning; just as it is
only a beginning for a “ scientific” proof of the existence of
God. Cartesianism falls short, according to the Cambridge
School, as we have seen, in ignoring the “ plastic principle,”
or “soul of nature.” It leaves us between the horns of a
dilemma: either mere mechanism, once started by God, pro-
duces effects blindly; or God interferes personally in the
smallest details. The plastic principle releases us from this
dilemma. It may be described as an incorporeal substance,
or principle, which, like Aristotle’s φύσις, works ἕνεκά tov
without consciousness. To it God, who is Self-conscious Good-
ness and Wisdom, delegates, as it were, the task of carrying on
the operations of nature: these operations are therefore God’s
operations, and His goodness and wisdom may be inferred from
them; but we are not obliged to hold the ridiculous opinion
that He produces them by immediate intervention. It is the
plastic principle which, in the inorganic world, immediately
determines, eg., the distances of the fixed stars from one
another and the paths of their planets, and, in the organic
world, appears as that “vegetative part of the Soul” which
builds up the body terrestrial, aerial or aethereal, without
which, as “ vehicle,” consciousness would be impossible in the
case of finite spirits:* without this plastic, vehicle-building,
principle there could be no “reproduction,” to use T. H.
Green’s terms, of the “Eternal Consciousness.” JI have
already, in an early part of this work,* had occasion to
describe the use which More makes of the plastic principle
in his account of the future existence of the Soul, and would
1 0.6. iii. 398. 2 0.6. iii. 232.
3 Cudworth thinks it ‘‘ probable” that no spirit except God can exist without
a body of some kind (Jnéed7. System, vol. iii. p. 368).
4 Pages 95 ff.
494 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
only add here that Cudworth treats of the principle in his
Intellectual System, vol. i. pp. 235-252 (ed. Mosheim and
Harrison)—in a passage well worth the attention of any one
interested in the point at issue between the “teleological” and
the “mechanical” explanation of the world. The English
Platonist of the seventeenth century, with his “ plastic soul,”
makes out, I venture to think, as plausible a case for
“teleology” as his successor, the English Idealist of the
nineteenth or twentieth century, manages to do with his
“spiritual principle.” The chief difference between the two
advocates is that the former tells us frankly that his
plastic soul is “unconscious,” while the latter leaves us in
doubt whether his “spiritual principle” is “conscious” or
“ unconscious.”
Having attempted to describe—in mere outline—the
learning and the science of the Cambridge Platonists, I now
go on to compare their central doctrine with that of the
English Idealists of the present day—the school of which
T. H. Green may be taken as representative. The comparison
will show, I think, that the central doctrine of these English
Idealists, equally with that of the Cambridge Platonists, is to
be traced to Plato—and to Plato the mythologist, rather than
to Plato the dialectician.
The central doctrine of the Cambridge Platonists is the
Doctrine of Ideas as presented in the Phaedrus Myth—that
is, presented to religious feeling as theory of the union of man
with God in knowledge and conduct. In the Doctrine of
Ideas, as it is presented to the scientific understanding in such
contributions to Logic as Republic, 509 D ff, the Cambridge
Platonists, like their Alexandrine predecessors, seem to take
little interest.
The Doctrine of Ideas as adopted by the Cambridge
Platonists may be stated as follows :—Sensible things, which
come into existence and perish, are but reflections, images,
ectypes, of Eternal Essences, Archetypal Forms, or Ideas. These
Ideas are the νοήματα, the “ Thoughts,” of God—the elements
which constitute his Eternal Wisdom, σοφία, or λόγος. The
Wisdom of God is that World of Ideas, that mundus arche-
typus, according to the conception of which he created this
visible world. Man attains to knowledge, ἐπιστήμη, only in
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 495
so far as he apprehends these Eternal Thoughts of the Divine
Wisdom—only in so far as, spurred to reflection by the stimuli
of sense, he enters into communion with the Mind of God,
“sees things in God.” This communion is possible only be-
cause man’s spirit is of one kind with the spirit of God—7rob
γὰρ γένος ἐσμέν. “ ΑἸ] minds partake of one original mind,” Ὁ
are “reproductions of the Eternal Consciousness” *——find that
its eternal Ideas are theirs too. Thus epistemology involves
theology. The theory of knowledge involves the supposition
of a “ universal consciousness,” or “ Wisdom of God,” as Eternal
Subject of those εἴδη or “forms,” without the constructive
activity of which in the mind of man his sensations would be
“ blind.”
From this sketch it may be seen that the doctrine of
archetypal Ideas amounts, in the English Intellectualists, to a
Theory of Knowledge, in which the ἃ priori element is recog-
nised, as in the Kantian philosophy. Let me fill in my sketch
by quoting some passages from More, Cudworth, Smith, Norris,
and Berkeley.
In his antidote against Atheism,’ More speaks of “ relative
notions or ideas ”»—Cause and Effect, Whole and Part, Like
and Unlike—in much the same way as Kant speaks of his
“Categories of the Understanding.” These “relative ideas,”
he says, “are no external Impresses upon the senses, but the
Soul’s own active manner of conceiving those things which are
discovered by the outward senses.” Again, in the Cabbala,* in a
passage which carries us out of the “ Critique of Pure Reason ”
into the “ Metaphysic of Morals,” he says: “The Soul of man
is not merely passive as a piece of wood or stone, but is forth-
with made active by being acted upon; and therefore if God
in us rules, we rule with him; if he contend against sin in
us, we also contend together with him against the same; if
he see in us what is good or evil, we, ipso facto, see by him
—In his light we see light; and so in the rest.” Again, in
his Philosophickall Poems, the following curious passage occurs
—a passage, I venture to think, of considerable philosophic
import, on account of the wide view taken of innate ideas, or
a priort forms: bodies, it is suggested, are shaped, as well as
1 Cudworth, Jnt. System, iii. 62. 2 Green, Prolegomena to Ethics.
3 Page 18, bk. i. ch. 6. + Page 154. 5 Page 238.
490 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
conscious experience organised, according to a priori, constitu-
tional forms :—
If plantall souls in their own selves contain
That vital formative fecundity,
That they a tree with different colours stain,
And diverse shapes, smoothnesse, asperity,
Straightnesse, acutenesse, and rotoundity,
A golden yellow, or a crimson red,
A varnish’d green with such like gailantry ;
How dull then is the sensitive ? how dead,
If forms from its own centre it can never spread ?
Again, an universal notion,
What object ever did that form impresse
Upon the soul? What makes us venture on
So rash a matter, as e’er to confesse
Ought generally true ? when neverthelesse
We cannot e’er runne through all singulars.
Wherefore in our own souls we do possesse
Free forms and immateriall characters,
Hence ’tis the soul so boldly generall truth declares.
* * * * * *
What body ever yet could figure show
Perfectly, perfect, as rotundity,
Exactly round, or blamelesse angularity ?
Yet doth the soul of such like forms discourse,
And finden fault at this deficiency,
And rightly term this better and that worse ;
Wherefore the measure is our own Idee,
Which th’ humane Soul in her own self doth see.
And sooth to sayen whenever she doth strive
To find pure truth, her own profundity
She enters, in her self doth deeply dive ;
From thence attempts each essence rightly to descrive.
The lines with which the last stanza ends find their com-
mentary in a passage in Smith’s Discourse of the Immortality
of the Soul, in which the κίνησις προβατική and the κίνησις
κυκλική of the Soul are distinguished. By the former she goes
forth and deals with material things; by the latter she reflects
upon herself. What she finds by “reflection” he sets forth
in his Discourse concerning the Ewistence and Nature of God.’
Plotinus hath well taught us, εἰς ἑαυτὸν ἐπιστρέφων, εἰς ἀρχὴν
ἐπιστρέφει, He which reflects upon himself, reflects npon his own Origi-
nall, and finds the clearest Impression of some Eternall Nature and
1 Pages 65, 66. ® Pages 123, 124,
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 497
Perfect Being stamp’d upon his own Soul, And therefore Plato
seoms sometimes to reprove the ruder sort of men in his times for
their contrivance of Pictures and Images to put themselves in
mind of the Θεοί or Angelicall Beings, and exhorts them to look
into their own Souls, which are the fairest Images, not onely of the
lower Divine Natures, but of the Deity itself; God having so
copied forth himself into the whole life and energy of man’s Soul,
as that the lovely Characters of Divinity may be most easily seen
and read of all men within themselves ; as they say Phidias the
famous statuary, after he made the statue of Minerva with the
greatest exquisiteness of art to be set up in the Acropolis at
Athens, afterwards impressed his own Image so deeply in her
buckler, ut nemo delere possit aut divellere, qui totam statuam non
imminueret. And if we would know what the Impresse of Souls
is, it is nothing but God himself, who could not write his own
name so as that it might be read but onely in Rational] Natures.
Neither could he make such without imparting such an Imitation
of his own Eternall Understanding to them as might be a per-
petual Memorial of himself within them. And whenever we look
upon our own Soul in a right manner, we shall find an U/rim and
Thummim there, by which we may ask counsel of God himself,
who will have this alway born upon its breastplate.
The passage which I shall quote from Cudworth is a
criticism of Hobbes’ “atheistical” doctrine that “ knowledge
and understanding being in us nothing else but a tumult in
the mind raised by external things that press the organical
parts of a man’s body, there is no such thing in God, nor can
they be attributed to him, they being things which depend
upon natural causes.” * To this Cudworth replies :—)
There comes nothing to us from bodies without us but only
local motion and pressure. Neither is sense itself the mere passion
of those motions, but the perception of their passions in a way of
fancy. But sensible things themselves (as, for example, light and
colours) are not known or understood either by the passion or the
fancy of sense, nor by anything merely foreign and adventitious,
but by intelligible ideas exerted from the mind itself—that is, by
something native and domestic to it. . . . Wherefore, besides the
phantasms of singular bodies, or of sensible things existing without
us (which are not mere passions neither), it is plain that our
human mind hath other cogitations or conceptions in it—namely,
the ideas of the intelligible natures and essences of things, which
are universal, and by and under which it understands singulars
1 Intell. System, iii. p. 60.
2K
498 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
. which universal objects of our mind, though they exist not
as such anywhere without it, yet are they not therefore nothing,
but have an intelligible entity for this very reason, because they
are conceivable. . . . If, therefore, there be eternal intelligibles
or ideas, and eternal truths and necessary existence do belong to
them, then must there be an eternal mind necessarily existing,
since these truths and intelligible essences of things cannot possibly
be anywhere but in a mind. . . . There must be a mind senior to
the world, and all sensible things, and such as at once compre-
hends in it the ideas of all intelligibles, their necessary scheses
and relations to one another, and all their immutable truths; a
mind which doth not ὁτὲ μὲν νοεῖ, ὁτὲ δὲ οὐ νοεῖ (as Aristotle writeth
it), sometimes understand, and sometimes not understand . . . but
οὐσίᾳ ἐνέργεια, Such a mind as is essentially act and energy, and
hath no defect in it. . . . Hence it is evident that there can be
but one only original mind . . . all other minds whatsoever par-
taking of one original mind, and being, as it were, stamped with
the impression or signature of one and the same seal. From
whence it cometh to pass that all minds, in the several places and
ages of the world, have ideas or notions of things exactly alike, and
truths indivisibly the same. Truths are not multiplied by the
diversity of minds that apprehend them, because they are all but
ectypal participations of one and the same original or archetypal
mind and truth. As the same face may be reflected in several
glasses, and the image of the same sun may be in a thousand eyes
at once beholding it, and one and the same voice may be in a
thousand ears listening to it, so when innumerable created minds
have the same ideas of things, and understand the same truths, it
is but one and the same eternal light that is reflected in them all
(that light which enlighteneth every man that cometh into the
world), or the same voice of that one everlasting Word, that is
never silent, re-echoed by them. . . . We conclude, therefore,
that from the nature of mind and knowledge it is demonstrable
that there can be but one original and self-existent Mind, or
understanding Being, from which all other minds were derived.’
This is a passage, I venture to think, of first-rate histori-
cal importance. It furnishes the link which connects the
Epistemological Theism which we find in the writings of T. H.
Green with the Mythology of the Zimaeus and Phaedrus.
Norris’s discussion of the a priori in knowiedge has some
points of special interest. Having shown, in the ordinary
way, that there are eternal and necessary Truths, 2.e. eternal
and necessary Propositions, he dwells on the point that the
1 Intell. System, iii. pp, 62-72,
i i)
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 499
simple essences, the mutual relations or habitudes of which
are set forth in these propositions, must be themselves eternal
and necessary. “There can be no mutual habitudes or
relations of things as to affirmation or negation,” he says,"
“without the reality of the things themselves.” The point
here insisted on by Norris is one which the modern dictum,
“Things are nothing except as determined by Relations,” is
apt to make us lose sight of; and his remarks following seem
to me to be worth attention :—
Two circles touching one another inwardly cannot have the same
common centre. This is a true Proposition. But I here demand,
How can it possibly have this certain habitude of division or
negation unless there be two such distinct simple Essences as
Circle and Centre. Certainly there can be no reference or
relation where there is nothing to support it... . If there can
be no connexion or relation between things that are not, then also
there can be no eternal connexion or relation between things that
have not an efernal existence. . . . But there are such eternal
habitudes and relations, therefore the simple Essences of things
are also eternal. . . 1 know very well this is not according to
the Decrees of the Peripatetic School, which has long since con-
demned it as Heretical Doctrine, to say that the Essences of things
do exist from eternity. . . . They tell us that the habitudes are
not attributed absolutely to the simple Essences as in actual being,
but only hypothetically—that whensoever they shall exist, they
shall also carry such relations to one another. There is, says the
Peripatetic, only a conditional connexion between the subject and
the predicate, not an absolute position of either. This goes
smoothly down with the young scholar at his Logic Lecture, and
the Tutor applauds his distinction, and thinks he has thereby
quitted his hands of a very dangerous heresie. But now to this
I return answer . . . that these habitudes are not (as is supposed)
only by way of hypothesis, but absolutely attributed to the
simple Essences, as actually existing. For when I say, for
instance, that every part of a circle is equally distant from the
centre, this proposition does not hang in suspense, then to be
actually verified when the things shall exist in Nature, but is at
present actually true, as actually true as ever it will or can be;
and consequently I may thence infer that the things themselves
already are. There is no necessity, I confess, they should exist in
Nature, which is all that the objection proves, but exist they must.
For of nothing there can be no affection. . . . Having cleared our
way by making it evident that the simple Essences of things are
1 Reason and Religion, p. 73.
500 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
eternal, the next thing that I consider is, that since they are not
eternal in their natural subsistencies, they must be eternal in some
other way of subsisting. And that must be in some understand-
ing, or by way of ideal subsistence! For there are but two con-
ceivable ways how anything may exist, either out of all under-
standing, or within some understanding. If, therefore, the simple
Essences of things are eternal, but not owt of all understanding, it
remains they must have an eternal existence in some understand-
ing. Which is what I call an ideal subsistence. There is, therefore,
another way of existing besides that in Lerwm Natura, namely,
in the Mundus Archetypus, or the Ideal World, where all the
Rationes rerum, or simple Essences of things, have an eternal and
immutable existence, before ever they enter upon the Stage of
Nature. I further consider, that this understanding wherein the
simple Essences of things have an eternal existence must be an
eternal understanding. For an Essence can no more eternally
exist in a temporary understanding than a body can be infinitely
extended in a finite space. Now, this Eternal Understanding can
be no other than the Understanding of God. The simple Essences
of things, therefore, do eternally exist in the Understanding
of God.?
God, Norris goes on to argue, is a simple and uncom-
pounded Being, and there is nothing in Him which is not
Himself; accordingly, these Eternal Ideas, or Simple Essences
of Things, are but the Divine Essence itself, considered “ as
variously exhibitive of things, and as variously imitable or
participable by them.”* “This Ideal World, this Essence of
God considered as variously exhibitive and representative of
things, is no other than the Divine λόγος, the Second Person
of the ever Blessed Trinity.”* Descartes, it is argued,’ makes
God, as conceptive, the cause of Truth—z.e. as pleased to
conceive—e.g. a Triangle so and so—not as exhibitive of the
Eternal Ideas. Here Descartes “ blunders horribly.” “I am
for the dependence of Truth upon the Divine Intellect as well
as he, but not so as to make it arbitrary and contingent, and
consequently not upon the Divine Intellect as conceptive, but
only as exhilitive. That is, that things are therefore true
inasmuch as they are conformable to those standing and
1 Norris here (Reason and Religion, p. 80) draws the distinction of which
Lotze makes so much in his Logie (Book iii. ch. 2, The World of Ideas, pp.
433 ff., English Transl.), between the Reality of Existence and the Reality of
Validity. 2 Reason and Religion, pp. 74-81.
3 ρ,6. pp. 81, 82. * 9.6. p. 85. 5 0,6. pp. 92, 93.
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 501
immutable Ideas which are in the mind of God as Exhibitive
and representative of the whole Possibility of Being.” God
is omniscient, as “comprehending within himself all the
Ideas and Essences of things with all their possible references
and respects, that is, all 7'ruth” '—a doctrine which seems to
me to be exactly equivalent to T. H. Green’s doctrine of “ the
Eternal Consciousness as subject of all Relations.” “ We see
and know all things in God.”* This doctrine, Norris tells us,
he thought out for himself, and afterwards found in Plotinus,
Proclus, St. Augustine, Marsilius Ficinus, and especially in
Malebranche, whose doctrine he then proceeds to state :°“—-We
know objects by the mediation of “Ideas.” The “ Ideas” of
things are in God. “God by his presence is intimately
united to our minds, so that God may be said to be the Place
of Spirits, as Space is the Place of Bodies.” Thus “ we see all
things in God.”* This is the doctrine of Malebranche,
accepted by Norris—a doctrine which labours under the
ambiguity attaching to its use of the term “Idea,” which
means both a mental image derived from a sensible object, and
an eternal ἐδέα in the Platonic acceptation. But we need not
go into this difficulty in Malebranche’s doctrine; it is enough
here to notice that Norris understands the doctrine as
genuinely Platonic. Plato’s definition of knowledge as a
“Participation of Ideas” amounts, he says, to “seeing all
things in God.”
“Tf we did not some way or other see God, we should see nothing
at all; even as if we did not love God, that is, if God did not con-
tinually impress upon us the love of good in general, we should
love nothing at all: for since this Love is the same with our Will,
we cannot love or will anything without him, since we cannot love
particular goods but by determining towards those goods that
motion of Love which God gives us towards himself.”® ‘All our
Illumination proceeds from the Divine λόγος, the substantial
Wisdom of God. But St. John speaks more plainly: This is the
true light which enlightens every man that comes into the world. Now,
true Light is here the same as only Light, and implies that all other
pretended lights are false ones. Again, says our Lord, J am the
Light of the World. And, I am the way, the truth, and the life.
And again says our Lord in his Prayer, Sanctifie them through
πος Dy 202. 2 0.c. p. 185 3 o.c. pp. 187-194,
oe 05: 5 oc. p. 207. δ᾽ o.c. Ὁ. 200.
502 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
thy truth; thy word is truth: which is not meant of the written
word, but of the Substantial and Eternal Word, as appears from
the context. Lastly, the Apostle says expressly of this Divine
Word, that he is made unto us Wisdom. Which is exactly accord-
ing to our hypothesis that we see all things in the Ideal World,
or Divine λόγος. .. . All our Light and Hlumination proceeds
wholly from him who at first said let there be light. We see so
much of Zruth as we see of God. The Ideas which are in God are
the very Ideas which we see. The Divine λόγος is our Wisdom, as
well as the Wisdom of his Father. So absolutely necessary is
the Doctrine of Ideas, when rightly stated, to the explaining the
Mode both of Divine and Human knowledge; without which 1
shall venture to affirm that they can neither of them be explained
or understood.” ἢ
Dominus Illuminatio Mea: “The Platonic Philosophers
do wonderfully refine upon Light, and soar very high,” as
Berkeley writes in Siris*—himself, at last, a professed ad-
herent of the school of Cudworth :—
As understanding perceiveth not, that is, doth not hear, or
see, or feel, so sense knoweth not; and although the mind may
use both sense and fancy as means whereby to arrive at know-
ledge, yet sense or soul, so far forth as sensitive, knoweth nothing.
For as it is rightly observed in the Theaetetus of Plato, science
consists not in the passive perceptions, but in the reasoning upon
them, τῷ περὶ ἐκείνων συλλογισμῷ.
So much for the epistemology, strictly so called, of the
Cambridge Platonists. It is a theory of the communion of
man with God, derived from the doctrine of ἐδέαι as set forth
“mythologically ” in the Zimaeus, Phaedrus, and Symposium.
It is easy to see how this epistemology explains the
function ascribed by the school to Reason, as Moral Faculty—
as recognising and imposing Obligation. Morality is the
Rational Life—the Life regulated by the consciousness of
Self, not as passive in the midst of the flux of vanishing
sensibles, but as actively displaying its own spiritual nature
and kinship with God by communicating in His eternal and
immutable nature. Its rational communion in his nature is
not an outward act, like looking at a picture which one may
turn away from when one pleases: it is an inward act
"1 0c. pp. 222-224. * § 210. 3. Siris, § 305.
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 505
of reflection—xiynow Kued\cxy—revealing one's own per-
manent nature—permanent, in that it “mirrors” or “ repro-
duces” God’s nature; it is an inward act revealing one’s
own permanent nature, which one cannot—-even when it
would please one to do so—turn one’s back upon. The
object of Reason, with which Reason is itself identical, is the
whole man, regarded sub specie aeternitatis, seen in God, seen
in his own proper place in the Cosmos. This object cannot
be set aside, as the object of a passing inclination may be set
aside. This is how “ Reason imposes Obligation.” Nor does
the physical organism of plant or animal differ in this respect
from the moral nature, if we consider the matter philosophi-
cally. It obliges those functions and acts which are in accord-
ance with its particular Type, its particular Type being a
“mode” of the Universe.
“ Reason,” then, as it is understood by the Platonists,
being the consciousness of Self as creature made after the
image of God—as mirror of the aeternae rationes rerum which
constitute the Divine Sapientia,—* Reason,” being this, needs
not to have its dictates enforced by any alien power: in being
promulgated they are carried out. The moral life is, on its
plane, as inevitable as the physical life. All living creatures
strive after that good which is competent to their several types
in the places which they hold in the great system of the
Universe. “There is nothing,” says Norris,’ “in nature more
necessary—no, nor so necessary and invincible, as that motion
whereby we are carried forth to good in general. Here the
Soul must not pretend to the least shadow of Liberty, having
no more command over this motion than she has over the
motion of the Sun.” “God is that which we directly and
properly love (or desire), and created goods, or particular
goods, are only so far loved as they resemble and participate
of the nature of that universal good.” “If we did not love
God . . . we should love nothing at all. . . . This Love is
the same with our Will.”* We are reminded of Aristotle’s
τὸ ἐν ἡμῖν θεῖον, that answering nisus or love in us, and in all
living creatures, which is awakened by God, who, himself
unmoved, moves all things by the attraction of loveliness—a
doctrine glossed by Plotinus, where he says that the Principle
1 Reason and Religion, pp. 237, 238. 2 0.c. p. 200.
504 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
of Organic Life is Love contemplating the Ideal Forms, and,
by its mere act of silent contemplation, producing embodi-
ments of them—rxal οἱ ἔρωτες ἰδόντων καὶ ἐπὶ τὸ εἶδος
σπευδόντων. ἢ
That “ Reason,” in the epistemology and moral theology
of our Platonists, is consciousness of the Whole—of God-in-
Man and Man-in-God—is a point which it is important to
keep steadily in view, not only if we would understand what
is meant by “obligation,” but also if we would get behind
phrases to real meaning, when we are told that the “ Truths
apprehended by Reason” are “eternal and immutable,” that
is, “necessary,” being at once the contents of the Divine
Wisdom and the conditions of human knowledge. No
“Truth,” taken by itself, can be apprehended as “ necessary ” ;
it can only be accepted as a ὑπόθεσις. The “necessity” of a
“Truth” is apparent only to a synoptic gaze, which takes in
the whole order of which the “Truth” is a part. The whole
is first acquiesced in as ἀρχὴ ἀνυπόθετος, and then we
see that its parts severally “cannot be otherwise.” This
is the gist of the passage at the end of the Sixth Book
of the Republic, where the function of Reason in Dialectic
is set forth, A “Truth” is seen to be “necessary”
when it is seen to be involved in the “whole”; and the
progress of knowledge is a process of integration by which
disjecta membra of experience are pieced together into a con-
sistent whole, and their natures seen to be such as “ cannot be
otherwise.” But this process would be impossible unless the
Rational Soul came to her task of integration with a native
idea of the “ whole.” This native idea is not something which
is a mere part of her. It is herself—the unity of her self-
hood of which she is conscious. As her knowledge advances—
that is, as she brings more and more data into clearly-seen
relation with her own “ self-centrality,” as More phrases it, she
herself spreads from her centre, becoming more and more
“adequate” to the objective world, more and more assimilated
to God. This growth of the Rational Soul in “ Likeness to
God ”—in “ correspondence with environment ”—expresses the
law of her inmost being, commanding categorically: Live thy
Life.
1 Κη. iii. 8. 7.
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 505
“Reason,” then, according to the Platonic school, is
“organism.” How shallow the criticism which finds fault
with them for giving us, in Reason, a principle which is not a
principle of action, and carries with it no consciousness of
obligation! As if organism, with its invincible Wille zum
Leben, did not move, and oblige, to action |
The central doctrine of the English Platonists, which I am
trying to set forth, gives an important place to the discussion
of the relation of God’s “ Will” to his “ Wisdom and Good-
ness.” By the “ Wisdom and Goodness” of God they under-
stand the perfect order of that mundus archetypus, or system
of ἐδέαι, or νοήματα, dwelling from all eternity in the Divine
Intellect; by the “Will” of God, the going forth of his
Power in the production and preservation of this visible world
and all that is in it. They maintain, against Descartes and
others,’ that God’s “ Will” did not make, and cannot alter,
the contents of the intelligible world, which have natures
“essential,” not “arbitrary.” God’s “ Will” is ruled by his
“Wisdom and Goodness ”—that is, his “ Will” expresses his
essential nature. He cannot make right wrong, or true false,
by arbitrary act of Will.
If God do all things simply at his pleasure ?
Because he will, and not because it’s good,
So that his actions will have no set measure ;
Is Ὁ possible it should be understood
What he intends? I feel that he is loved
Of my dear soul, and know that I have borne
Much for his sake ; yet is it not hence proved
That I shall live, though I do sigh and mourn
To find his face ; his creature’s wish he’ll slight and scorn,
Nor of well-being, nor subsistency
Of our poor souls, when they do hence depart,
Can any be assured, if liberty
We give to such odde thoughts, that thus pervert
The laws of God, and rashly do assert
That Will rules God, but Good rules not God’s Will.
What e’er from right, love, equity, doth start,
For ought we know then God may act’that ill,
Only to show his might, and his free mind fulfill.
1 E.g. Occam (as quoted by Maxwell in his edition of Cumberland’s Laws of
Nature, p. 80)—*‘ nullus est actus malus, nisi quatenus a Deo prohibitus est, et
qui non potest fieri bonus, si a Deo praecipiatur, et e converso.”
2 More, Phil. Poems, p. 179.
506 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
To the same effect, Cudworth :'—~
Plotinus writeth, ποιεῖ τὸ θεῖον ὡς πέφυκε, πέφυκε δὲ κατὰ τὴν
αὐτοῦ οὐσίαν, ἣ τὸ καλὸν ἐν ταῖς ἐνεργείαις αὐτοῦ καὶ τὸ δίκαιον
συνεκφέρει, εἰ γὰρ μὴ ἐκεῖ ταῦτα, ποῦ ἂν εἴη; ‘The Deity acteth
according to its own nature and essence; and its nature and
essence displayeth goodness and justice: for if these things
be not there, where should they else be found?” And
again, elsewhere: θεὸς ὅπερ ἐχρῆν εἶναι, ov τοίνυν οὕτω
συνέβη, ἀλλ᾽ ἔδει οὕτω: τὸ δ᾽ ἔδει τοῦτο ἀρχὴ τῶν ὅσα ἔδει:
“God is essentially that which ought to be: and therefore he did
not happen to be such as he is: and this first ought to be is the
principle of all things whatsoever that ought to be.” Wherefore
the Deity is not to be conceived as mere arbitrariness, humour, or
irrational will and appetite omnipotent (which would, indeed, be
but omnipotent chance), but as an overflowing fountain of love
and goodness, justly and wisely dispensing itself, and omnipotently
reaching all things. The will of God is goodness, justice, and
wisdom ; or decorousness, and ought itself, willing; so that the
τὸ βέλτιστον, that which is absolutely the best, is νόμος ἀπαράβατος,
“an indispensable law to it, because its very essence.” God is
μέτρον πάντων, an “impartial balance” lying even, equal, and
indifferent, to all things, and weighing out heaven and earth, and
all the things therein, in the most just and exact proportions, and
not a grain too much or too little of anything. Nor is the Deity
therefore bound or obliged to do the best, in any way of servility
(as men fondly imagine this to be contrary to his liberty), much
less by the law and command of any superior (which is a contra-
diction), but only by the perfection of its own nature, which it
cannot possibly deviate from, no more than ungod itself.
Now, we must not regard this question of the relation of
the “ Will” to the “ Wisdom and Goodness” of God as one of
those bygone questions of scholasticism with which we need
no longer, in our day, trouble ourselves. It is a present-day
question—indeed, a perennial question. It raises the whole
issue of Pessimism against Optimism.
Pessimism will never infect the bulk of mankind—those
who do not reflect, but push their way on, and lead ambitious,
industrious lives; but reflective idle people—a growing number
in the modern world—it is likely to infect more and more.
It is likely to get hold of literature, and even of philosophy, to
a greater extent. The number is steadily growing of those
who are educated in book-learning, and can make a living by
' Intell. System, iii. 463, 464.
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 507
supplying idle readers with reflections on life embodied in the
novel and other forms of “light reading.” Pessimism suits
well with the mood which such writers have to cater for—the
mood of habitual lookers-on at life; but those whose energetic
temperament moves them to put their hand to things and try
to get them done are not troubled with the suspicion that all
their work is vanity.
Τὺ was a profound insight which caused Plato to debar
from philosophy all those who were not likely to have an
opportunity of taking an active part in affairs." It is Plato,
of all the Greeks the most enthusiastically possessed by the
idea of Greek civilisation as an influence to be propagated in
the world,—it is Plato, with his firm practical hold of the
belief that Life is worth living—-who stands out, in the His-
tory of Philosophy, as the opponent of individualism, whether
hedonistic or pessimistic. The individualists of his day, the
Sophists, whom he opposes expressly or by implication through-
out the whole range of his writings, were men for the most
part without close political ties, aliens in the cities where they
taught, who cultivated philosophy without patriotism and
religion. It was from them that the doctrine od φύσει τὰ
δίκαια, ἀλλὰ νόμῳ μόνον cCame—a doctrine which answers to
the view combated by the Cambridge Platonists, that Right
and Wrong, True and False, are creatures of God’s arbitrary
Will. If this is true, the “ virtuously happy, or holy, life” is
not worth pursuing; chance is lord of all, and strenuous effort
on our part is labour lost. This was how the Cambridge
Platonists argued. In our own day, Pessimism is most often
disappointed Hedonism. But it may well come from any cause
which damps the energies of men: thus, the doctrine of
Determinism may produce it by persuading us that our actions
are all determined beforehand by the εἱμαρμένη of the Uni-
verse, and that we are but the passive spectators even of our
own actions. Without denying that εἱμαρμένη, in the sense
of law universal, determines our actions, I would submit that
the doctrine is too abstract to be of practical consequence. It
takes us back to the axioma maxime generale—the Universe
—and omits the immediate antecedent—the concrete character
of the individual who performs the actions. It is this im-
1 Republic, 473 v.
508 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
mediate antecedent, however, which one who wishes to take a
scientific view of the actions must chiefly consider—the Uni-
verse, or chain of remote antecedents, may “go without
saying ”; and, above all, it is this immediate antecedent on
which the agent himself must fix his attention ; he must “look
to himself,’ as the phrase is, not to “ the Universe,” if he is to
do anything worth doing. The abstract doctrine of Deter-
minism, by calling attention away too much from the im-
mediate antecedent of actions—the concrete agent himself—
is at once unscientific and practically harmful, tending to
paralyse the energy of the agent whose actions it seeks to
account for. The agent must “believe in himself” if actions
are to be done; and he cannot believe in himself unless he
believes in a system of things which is suitable to him, in
which he can get on—a friendly, not an alien world. These
two beliefs go together—belief in Self, and belief in a Friendly
World. They are the two faces of the same coin. And this
is the great truth signified by the doctrine of Reflection—xivnors
κυκλική---οϑοῦ forth by the Cambridge Platonists—their doc-
trine that the Soul’s reflection upon herself reveals to her that
system of Eternal Truths which are at once the principles of
human knowledge and conduct, and the Thoughts of God in
accordance with which his Will is determined to do every-
thing for the Best. The only sovereign antidote against
Pessimism is a belief (tacit, or expressed— better, perhaps, tacit)
of this sort. But such belief, it must be remembered, rests
not on speculative grounds, but is the birth of conduct. It
is the possession of those only who are σπουδαῖοι----ἶπι earnest
about the practical life. The issue between “ Mechanism ” and
“ Teleology ”—for that, again, is the issue involved in the ques-
tion about the relation of God’s “ Will” to his “Wisdom and
Goodness ”»—is not one to be settled by logical thinkers, but
by moral agents. Logical thinkers, it seems to me, must decide
in favour of “Mechanism”; moral agents will always decide
in favour of “Teleology.” And they are right, because
“Teleology” is the working hypothesis of Life, whereas the
doctrine of “ Mechanism” damps the vis viva on which Life,
including the logical understanding itself, depends for its con-
tinuance.
The central doctrine of the Cambridge Platonists receives
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 509
considerable illumination from their treatment of the famous
maxim, identified chiefly with the name of Descartes, “ Clear
and distinct ideas must be true.” The maxim, of course,
can be traced back to Plato himself, who, at the end of the
Sixth Book of the Republic, makes σαφήνεια the test of
ἀλήθειας It is a maxim which undoubtedly lends itself to
abuse, if not limited, as it is carefully limited by Plato in the
passage just mentioned, as referring only to “ideas” in the
sense of “categories” or “notions”—organie conditions of
experience—and not also to “ideas” in the more ordinary sense
—of “impressions,” or data of experience. Kant’s final proof of
the apriority of his Categories of the Understanding is that
“we cannot think them away ”—their opposites are inconceiv-
able—they belong to the structure of the mind—are not data
received by it. Similarly, the Cambridge Platonists accept as
principles of knowledge and conduct those Ideas which the κίνη-
σις κυκλική, Or Reflection of the Soul upon herself as mirror
of the Divine Wisdom, sees clearly and distinctly. Such are
the “relative ideas” (as More calls them), Cause and Effect,
Whole and Part, etc., and the Ideas of God and of Immor-
tality. The truth of such “ Ideas” is simply “ their clear in-
telligibility.” Their truth needs no other witness. It is in
order to maintain this view of the self-evident truth of these
“Ideas” or “ Categories” that Cudworth submits to a search-
ing criticism Descartes’ doctrine, that we fall back upon the
supposition of the “ Veracity of God” as ground of our belief
that our clear and distinct ideas do not deceive us. Against
this doctrine he argues that not even God could make clear
and distinct “Ideas,” in the sense of νοήματα, Categories, or
principles of knowledge, false: they are essentially true; and
their clear intelligibility is alone sufficient warrant of their
truth, or objective validity. Our very “Idea” of a Perfect,
and therefore Veracious, God is itself one of these νοήματα,
the truth of which is warranted by their “ clear intelligibility.”
The passage’ in which Cudworth makes this point against
Descartes is, indeed, a notable passage in the History of the
“Theory of Knowledge,” and merits close comparison with
Kant’s 7’ranscendental Analytic :—
1 Intell. System, iti. 31-35.
510 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
It hath been asserted by a late eminent philosopher that there
is no possible certainty to be had of anything, before we be certain
of the existence of a God essentially good ; because we can never
otherwise free our minds from the importunity of that suspicion
which with irresistible force may assault them; that ourselves
might possibly be so made, either by chance or fate, or by the
pleasure of some evil demon, or at least of an arbitrary omnipo-
tent Deity, as that we should be deceived in all our most clear
and evident perceptions, and, therefore, in geometrical theorems
themselves, and even in our common notions. But when we are
once assured of the existence of such a God as is essentially good,
—who, therefore, neither will nor can deceive,—then, and not
before, will this suspicion utterly vanish, and ourselves become
certain that our faculties of reason and understanding are not
false and imposturous, but rightly made. . . . Now, though there
be a plausibility of piety in this doctrine . . . yet does that very
supposition that our understanding faculties might possibly be so
made as to deceive us in all our clearest perceptions, render it
utterly impossible ever to arrive to any certainty concerning the
existence of a God essentially good; forasmuch as this cannot
be any otherwise proved than by the use of our faculties of under-
standing, reason, and discourse. For to say that the truth of our
understanding faculties is put out of all doubt and question as
soon as ever we are assured of the existence of a God essentially
good, who therefore cannot deceive ; whilst the existence of a God
is in the meantime itself no otherwise proved than by our under-
standing faculties; that is at once to prove the truth of God’s
existence from our faculties of reason and understanding, and
again to prove the truth of those faculties from the existence of a
God essentially good: this, I say, is plainly to move round in a
circle, and to prove nothing at all . . . so that if we will pretend
to any certainty at all concerning the existence of a God, we must
of necessity explode this new-supplied hypothesis of the possibility
of our understandings being so made as to deceive us in all our
clearest perceptions. . . . In the first place, therefore, we affirm
that no power, how great soever, and therefore not omnipotence
itself, can make anything to be indifferently either true or false.
.. . Truth is not factitious; it is a thing which cannot be arbi-
trarily made, but is. The divine will and omnipotence itself hath
no imperium upon the divine understanding; for if God under-
stood only by will, he could not understand at all. In the next
place, we add that, though the truth of singular contingent pro-
positions depends upon the things themselves existing without, as
the measure and archetype thereof, yet as to the universal and
abstract theorems of science, the terms whereof are those reasons
of things which exist nowhere but only in the mind itself (whose
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 511
noemata and ideas they are), the measure and rule of truth con-
cerning them can be no foreign or extraneous thing without the
mind, but must be native and domestic to it, or contained within
the mind itself, and therefore can be nothing but its clear and dis-
tinct perception. In these intelligible ideas of the mind whatsoever
is clearly perceived to be is; or, which is all one, is true... .
The very essence of truth here is this clear perceptibility, or in-
telligibility. . . . The upshot of all this is, that since no power,
how great soever, can make anything indifferently to be true, and
since the essence of truth in universal abstract things is nothing
but clear perceptibility, it follows that omnipotence cannot make
anything that is false to be clearly perceived to be, or create such
minds and understanding faculties as shall have as clear concep-
tion of falsehoods—that is, of nonentities—as they have of truths
or entities. For example, no rational understanding being that
knows what a part is, and what a whole, what a cause, and what
an effect, could possibly be so made as clearly to conceive the part
to be greater than the whole, or the effect to be before the cause,
or the like. . . . Conception and knowledge are hereby made to
be the measure of all power, even omnipotence or infinite power
being determined thereby ; from whence it follows that power hath
no dominion over understanding, truth, and knowledge.’
We see, then, that the Epistemology of the Cambridge
Platonists involves a Theory of God, according to which the
Divine Will is subordinate to the Divine Wisdom and Goodness.
A God merely all-powerful would be one of whom, and of
whose world, knowledge would be impossible. We have a
“clear and distinct idea” of a wise and good God, and in the
light of this “idea” see the truth and do the right.
This Platonic doctrine seems to me to contain all that is
important in Kant’s doctrine of the regulative value of the
Idea of God. The Idea of God, Kant tells us, has no object
in a possible experience. It lies deeper in human nature than
the scientific understanding. Together with the Idea of Soul
and the Idea of Cosmos, it has its seat in Reason; which
1 Compare Spinoza, Eth. ii. 43. schol.: ‘“‘Veram habere ideam nihil aliud
significat quam perfecte sive optime rem cognoscere ; nec sane aliquis de hac re
dubitare potest, nisi putet, ideam quid mutum instar picturae in tabula, et non
modum cogitandi esse, nempe ipsum intelligere . . . quid idea vera clarius et
certius dari potest quod norma sit veritatis. Sane sicut lux se ipsam et tenebras
manifestat, sic veritas norma sui et falsi est.” And again (de Jntellectus Emen-
datione, vi. ὃ 33): ‘‘ Modus quo sentimus essentiam formalem est ipsa certitudo.
Unde patet quod ad certitudinem veritatis nullo alio signo sit opus quam veram
habere ideam.” And (o.c. ix. § 71): ‘‘ Forma verae cogitationis in eadem ipsa
cogitatione sine relatione ad alias debet esse sita ; nec objectum tanquam causam
agnoscit, sed ab ipsa intellectus potentia et natura pendere debet.”
512 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
must not be regarded as a “ faculty” co-ordinate with other
“ faculties,” but as the whole man—the indivisible organism
in which “ faculties” inhere. The Idea of God, then, having
its seat in Reason, is an attitude of the whole man. An
“Tdea” which has no object in a possible experience, if
expressed in language at all, must be expressed in figurative
language; so, I need not apologise for using a figure here to
help me, and least of all for using the figure of Light, on which
“the Platonists do wonderfully refine, and soar very high.”
The “ Idea of God” is*like the influence of Light, which draws
living creatures out of the prison of darkness into the freedom
of its borders. It is not a particular impression, nor yet one
of the Categories in which impressions are received, but the
Good Hope which urges on the living creature to go forth
and meet the impressions of experience and organise his life
in the world which they constitute.
It is in feeling the stimulus of this Good Hope that man
feels the obligation of the “Categorical Imperative.” When
I say that the doctrine of the “ Categorical Imperative.” is deeply
embedded in the philosophy of the Cambridge Platonists, | am
not trying to get them credit for great originality in their
anticipation of a doctrine which has been too much identified
with the name of Kant. Every system of Ethics, worthy to
be called a system at all, takes us down to the bed-rock of the
“ Categorical Imperative.” But what I do wish to claim for the
Cambridge Platonists is that they lay the bed-rock very bare.
The first original obligation (says Cudworth)' is not from
will, but nature. Did obligation to the things of natural justice,
as many suppose, arise from the will and positive command of
God, only by reason of punishments threatened and rewards
promised, the consequence of this would be that no man was
good and just but only by accident, and for the sake of something
else ; whereas the goodness of justice or righteousness is intrinsical
to the thing itself, and this is that which obligeth (and not any-
thing foreign to it), it being a different species of good from that
of appetite or private utility, which every man may dispense
withal.
Again, in Smith’s Discourse of Legal Righteousness and of
the Righteousness of Faith, the Gospel, as distinguished from
' Intell, System, iii. 512.
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 513
the Law, is presented as involving the obligation of a “ Cate-
gorical Imperative ” ;—
The Righteousness of the Gospel transcends that of the Law
in that it hath indeed a true command over the inward man, which it
acts and informs; whereas the Law by its menaces and punish.
ments could only compel men to an external observance of it in the
outward man; as the Schoolmen have well observed, Lex vetus
ligat manum, Lex nova ligat animum.
Again, Maxwell,’ criticising the view which he ascribes
(erroneously) to Cumberland, that the obligation of the
Law of Nature is not in itself, but in its external sanction,
says :—
Although Sin and Punishment are closely connected, yet the
obligation of it may not be done (non licet) is distinct from the
obligation of not with impunity (non impune), as Sin and Punishment
are of distinct consideration. But a man is bound, both when he
cannot do a thing without sin, and when he cannot do a thing
without punishment. But because the obligation of non licet is ante-
cedent to the obligation of non impune, the Precept to the Sanction,
and the Sin is made by the Law, the Law hath so much obligation
as to make the Sin, before the Penalty is enacted; therefore the
Law has an obligation antecedently to the Sanction of it.
Maxwell’s view of Cumberland—that he leaves the Law
of Nature with no obligation save that derived from self-
interest—I consider entirely mistaken ; Cumberland is really
at one with Maxwell and the whole Platonist school in holding
that the moral agent, the subject of obligation, is conscious of
obligation in being conscious of the identity of the Law of
Righteousness in himself with the Law which rules the Divine
Nature. The moral agent is obliged, not because God arbi-
trarily commands him, and will punish disobedience, but
because he is conscious of a Law so august that even God is
ruled by it. In Kant this consciousness which the moral
agent has of God ruled by the Law of Righteousness is
attenuated down to a consciousness of the “ universality ” of the
Law. Thus the English statement of the doctrine of “ obliga-
tion” enables us to see the theological basis concealed under
Kant’s superstructure; but, at the same time, shows us how
1 Τὴ his edition of Cumberland’s Laws of Nature, Appendix, p. 56 (1727).
21,
δ14 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Kant may be successfully defended against the criticism of
which Schopenhauer’s attack, in the Grundlage der Moral, may
be taken as a specimen—the criticism which urges that the
Imperative is, after all, not “categorical,” but “hypothetical ”
—has an external sanction, the penalty which attaches to
disobeying God’s command. The Platonic doctrine of the
relation between the Divine Will and the Divine Wisdom
and Goodness, and of man’s participation in the mundus
archetypus constituted by that Wisdom and Goodness—the
doctrine of the “presence of the Eternal Consciousness in
man’s consciousness ”—explains and justifies Kant’s use of the
epithet “categorical,” and turns the edge of Schopenhauer’s
criticism, which proceeds on the assumption that the Deity,
who undoubtedly stands behind the Kantian moral Imperative,
is effective as mere Power threatening punishment, not rather
as Wisdom-and-Goodness drawing the minds and hearts of all
men unto it. In an amusing passage,” Schopenhauer compares
Kant to a man who dances the whole evening, at a ball,
with a masked lady, who turns out, in the end, to be his own
wife. That lady is Theology. But Schopenhauer takes for
granted that she is the juridical theology modelled after the
Roman Civil Law; whereas, if we compare Kant with his
next of kin, the English Platonists, we see that his masked
theology is the theology of Platonism—a theology as
different from the other as the Hellenic genius is different
from the Roman. I submit that the “ Categorical Imperative ”
is best understood in close connection with the Greek moral
notions of the ἀγαθόν and the καλόν. Moral obligation is not
essentially pressure brought to bear on the unwilling, but is
rather the nisus of a nature eagerly seeking its appointed
place in the Cosmos, and, in its efforts, experiencing, by anti-
cipation, the joy of success. Virtue grows up like a flower to
the light, joyfully realising its own nature as part of universal
nature. This is, indeed, the way in which Maxwell wishes us
to understand “ obligation ”—not juridically, but, if I may foist
the term on him, biologically. Having quoted Shaftesbury at
length, as holding the doctrine of the intrinsic obligation of
the Law of Virtue—“ That the excellence of the Object, not the
Reward or Punishment, should be our motive,”’—he states his
1 Pages 120 ff. 3. 0.6. p. 169.
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 51D
own view thus:! “The Good in Morality, the Good of Virtue,
is the καλὸν καὶ ἀγαθόν, the Beauteous-Beneficial Life and
Practice.” This Greek standard he afterwards explains, in a
way which reminds one of Kant, as “impartiality between
man and man.” “ We should do all things,” he says,’ “ no
otherwise than as if Justice itself did them.” Maxwell’s
criticism of Cumberland—that he makes the ultimate motive
the self-interest secured by obedience to the Law of Nature—is,
as I have said, mistaken; but it is interesting on account of
its similarity to the criticism which Schopenhauer brings
against Kant. Both critics are, I think, misled by the sup-
position that their respective authors are juridical and not
Platonist theologians. That juridical theology influenced both
Cumberland and Kant is, of course, indisputable; but it is a
grave error, on the part of the critics, to mistake an influence,
which made itself felt in the details of the superstructure, for
the theological foundation of the building. We may grant
to Schopenhauer that theology stands masked behind Kant’s
doctrine of the Categorical Imperative. But our study of the
English Intellectualists—Kant’s next of kin—enables us to
recognise that theology as the Platonist theology of the com-
munion of man’s mind with God’s mind rather than that of
obedience to God as a superior who issues commands armed
with sanctions—the theology of the Freedom of the Gospel,
as Smith puts it, rather than that of the Bondage of
the Law.
I think I have now said enough to explain the central
doctrine of Cudworth and his school in its relationship to the
“mythology” of Plato on the one side and to the “ formalism ”
of Kant and of T. H. Green on the other side. Let me add
the observation that Cudworth and his school can hardly be
said to make the Theory of Morals an independent subject.
They make it merely an illustration of their Theory of Know-
ledge. Moral good is simply an <¢ntelligibile, on the same
footing as the other ἰδέαι, or Eternal Reasons, required by the
epistemology of the school. Cudworth’s Hternal and Immutable
Morality has much more to say about mathematical Truth than
about Right and Wrong. “Obligation” is treated merely as a
1 Maxwell's γρβερβρθῤρὰ of the Law μῇ Nature, p. 68 (Appendix to his edition of
Cumberland). ce. p. 85.
516 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
case of “clear intelligibility,” and the perception of it assimi-
lated to the self-evidence of mathematical principles. Duty is
clearly perceived by Reflection, just as Triangularity is. This
characteristic of the System of Cudworth and his associates—
that their Theory of Morals is but a corollary—and is carefully
kept in the subordinate position of a mere corollary—of the
Theory of Knowledge, is also a characteristic of the English
System which, in our own day, represents that of the Cam-
bridge Platonists. T. H. Green’s Moral Theory is closely
bound up with, and indeed, except so far as “ contaminated ”
by utilitarianism, identical with, his epistemology—an epistem-
ology which, as I have tried to indicate, has close affinity with
that of Cudworth and his associates, inasmuch as it includes,
as theirs does, a proof of the existence of God—is theology, or
epistemology, indifferently. Green’s Prolegomena and Cud-
worth’s Eternal and Immutable Morality are books which
should be read in connection; and, in reading them together,
let the reader take as his guide the thought that the theology
of Green, as well as that of Cudworth, is ecstatic, not juridical.
The critic’s problem in interpreting the Philosophy of Green
is that of interpreting a product of the Renaissance—of the
revival of, Christian Platonism—lI had almost said a late-born
product of the Renaissance; but the Renaissance, after all, is
not circumscribed by dates—it is always with us as a reno-
vating principle, as a vivid spirit craving for the freedom of
personal experience.
Platonism is a temper as well as a doctrine; and in
Cudworth and his associates, as in their Alexandrine pre-
decessors, it is even more a temper than a doctrine—an
enthusiastic mystical temper, always longing passionately for
intuition, always ready to accept the clearness of passionate
intuition as Standard of Truth in Divine Things: “ Nature
itself plainly intimates to us,” says Cudworth,’ that there is
some such absolutely perfect Being, which, though not incon-
ceivable, yet is incomprehensible to our finite understandings,
by certain passions which it hath implanted in us, that
otherwise would want an object to display themselves upon ;
namely, those of devout veneration, adoration, and admiration,
together with a kind of ecstasy and pleasing horror; which,
1 Intell. System, ii. p. 519.
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 517
in the silent language of nature, seem to speak thus much to
us that there is some object in the world, so much bigger and
vaster than our mind and thoughts, that it is the very same
to them that the ocean is to narrow vessels; so that when
they have taken into themselves as much as they can by con-
templation, and filled up all their capacity, there is still an
immensity of it left without which cannot enter in for want
of room to receive it, and therefore must be apprehended after
some other strange and more mysterious manner, namely, by
their being, as it were, plunged into it, and swallowed up or
lost in it.” Similarly, More appeals’ to the natural remorse
of conscience, to good hope, and to reverence and worship, as
proofs of the existence of God; presenting the faculty of
“Divine Sagacity ”—the birth of a “Holy Life ”—as “ ante-
cedaneous to Reason "---ἅπλωσον σεαυτόν, simplify thyself, he
says, and walk by the “easie Sagacity,” “the simple light of
the Divine Love”; while Norris lays it down*® that “the
mind which sees the Divine Essence must be totally and
thoroughly absolved from all commerce with the corporeal
senses, either by Death, or some ecstatical and rapturous
abstraction”; and Smith rests his belief in God and Immor-
tality far more on the certitude of the Heart than of the
Head. To these devout Platonists God and Immortality are
simply wants—wants of the practical volitional part of us,
for the sake of which, after all, the thinking part thinks. <A
God fashioned logically, in such a way as to satisfy the think-
ing part alone—that is, fashioned by the thinking part
making its own satisfaction its end—will be a God who does
not satisfy the volitional part, and consequently cannot, in the
long run, be maintained. We have much to learn from the
Platonists who, by laying stress on the mere want of a God,
suggest that the logical faculty ought not to be allowed to
have the last word in theology.*
That Platonism is a temper is brought home to us by
nothing in the History of Philosophy more clearly than by
the development of Berkeley's mind. His early thought
1 Antidote against Atheism, book i. ch. 10. p. 29.
2 Defence of the Moral Cabbala, ch. 1, p. 155.
3 Reason and Religion, p. 3.
* I would refer, in this connection, to a remarkable Essay on ‘‘ Reflex Action
and Theism,”’ by Professor W. James, in his volume, The Will to Believe.
518 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
moved on lines laid down by Locke. In the New Theory of
Vision (1709) and Principles of Human Knowledge (1710),
works of his early manhood, he appears as the mid-link
between Locke and Hume in the sensationalistic succession.
His interest, at this period, is mainly scientific, although there
is a theological reference even in this early work which
distinguishes it from the work of either Locke or Hume.
Experience, though interpreted according to the principles of
the Lockian Critique, is yet “the Language of God ”—Male-
branche’s doctrine of “seeing all things in God” doubtless
influences him. In Zhe New Theory and The Principles
Berkeley may be said to adopt sensationalistic doctrine en
Platonicien. But see how this Platonist temper, showing
itself even in works written chiefly under the influence of
Locke, hurries the man away from science into action, rouses
him into sympathy — always, be it noted, practical and
statesmanlike—with the miseries of the Irish people, carries
him across the Atlantic on his enthusiastic mission to found a
college which should be the centre of evangelical work among
the American aborigines. The scheme failed; he returned,
disappointed, but not disillusioned, to devote the remainder of
his life to the advocacy of philanthropic schemes—and to
write that wonderful Siris, a Chain of Philosophical Reflections
and Inquiries concerning the Virtues of Tar-water, in which
the practical Platonism of his nature, pent up, as age and a
fatal disorder condemned him to greater retirement, found
natural relief in dogmatic expression. It is in Siris that
Berkeley appears as the latest adherent of the school of Cud-
worth and More But what, it may be well asked, is the
connection between Tar-water (which Berkeley recommends as
a panacea) and Platonism? The answer is, that tar, the exuda-
tion of the pine, is the purest vehicle of that “invisible fire or
Spirit of the universe” by the agency of which all things live:
the introduction of an additional amount of this vital cosmic
principle into the human system by means of a decoction of tar
has the effect of heightening the bodily powers and expelling
all diseases. That there is such a vital principle of the Universe
is shown to be the only hypothesis consistent with that Platonism
which—to adopt More’s phrase with a slight alteration—is “ the
soul of the Philosophy of which ‘ modern science’ is the body.”
THE CAMBRIDGE PLATONISTS 519
Let me close this work with two quotations from Siris—
eloquent utterances of the Platonist temper :-—
It might very well be thought serious trifling to tell my
readers, that the greatest men had ever a high esteem for Plato ;
whose writings are the touchstone of a hasty and shallow mind ;
whose philosophy has been the admiration of ages; which
supplied patriots, magistrates, and law-givers, to the most flourish-
ing states, as well as fathers to the Church, and doctors to the
schools. Albeit in these days, the depths of that old learning are
rarely fathomed, and yet it were happy for these lands, if our
young nobility and gentry, instead of modern maxims, would
imbibe the notions of the great men of antiquity. . . . It may be
modestly presumed there are not many among us, even of those
who are called the better sort, who have more sense, virtue, and
love of their country than Cicero, who, in a letter to Atticus,
could not forbear exclaiming, Ὁ Socrates et Socratict viri / munquam
vobis gratiam referam. Would to God many of our countrymen
had the same obligations to those Socratic writers! Certainly
where the people are well educated, the art of piloting a state is
best learnt from the writings of Plato. . . . Proclus, in the first
book of his commentary on the Theology of Plato, observes that,
as in the mysteries, those who are initiated, at first meet with
manifold and multiform gods, but being entered and thoroughly
initiated, they receive the divine illumination, and participate in
the very Deity; in like manner, if the Soul looks abroad, she
beholds the shadows and images of things; but returning into
herself she unravels and beholds her own essence: at first she
seemeth only to behold herself, but having penetrated further she
discovers the mind. And again, still further advancing into the
innermost Sanctuary of the Soul she contemplates the θεῶν γένος.
And this, he saith, is the most excellent of all human acts, in the
silence and repose of the faculties of the Soul to tend upwards to
the very Divinity ; to approach and be clearly joined with that
which is ineffable and superior to all beings. When come so high
as the first principle she ends her journey and rests.?
- + * ~ + -
Whatever the world thinks, he who hath not much meditated
upon God, the Human Mind, and the Summum Bonum, may
possibly make a thriving earthworm, but will most indubitably
make a sorry patriot and a sorry statesman.”
1 Siris, §§ 332, 333. 2 0.c. § 350.
οὐ
INDEX
Adam, Mr., on Plato’s attitude to doctrine | Allegory of Castle of Medina, Spenser's,
of Immortality of the Soul, 71
on circle of the Same and the Other,
148
on the position of the Throne of
᾿Ανάγκη in the Myth of Er, 166, 167
on the Pillar of Light in the Myth
of Er, 169
on the astronomy of the Politicus
Myth, and the Great Year, 198
on ἄωροι, 200
on allegorisation of Homer, 233
on the φύλακες of the Repudlic and the
Hesiodic Daemons, 436
Adam Smith, Dr. G., on allegorical inter-
pretation, 236, 237
257
in Purgatorio, xxix., 257
of the Cave, Plato's, 250 ff.
of the Disorderly Crew, Plato's, 253 ff.
᾿Ανάβασις, takes the place of κατάβασις
in eschatology, 352, 353, 367
Stoical doctrine of the levity of the
Soul contributed to, 380
᾿Ανάμνησις, doctrine of, 843 ff.
᾿Ανάμνησις, ἔρως, φιλοσοφία, 341 ff.
᾿Ανάμνησις, Platonic, Dieterich on, 158
compared with Dante’s mythology of
Lethe and Eunoé, 158
Angels, Jewish doctrine of, and Greek
doctrine of Daemons, 450
Aeschylus, attitude of, to doctrine of | Apocalypse of Paul, Dr. M. R. James on,
Immortality of the Soul, 63, 64
Aesop’s Fables, at once African Beast-
tales and Parables, 16
Agyrtae, 70
Αἰθήρ, in EHpinomis, de Coelo, Meteorol.,
438, 439
Albertus, on the Earthly Paradise, 105
Alfraganus, Dante’s use of, 365
Allegorical interpretation, Dr. G. Adam
Smith on, 236, 237
Dr. Bigg on, 236
Hatch on, 236
of Myths, by Plotinus and Neo-Plato-
nists, 237 ff.
St. Paul authorises, 237
Chrysostom’s opinion of, 237
of Myths, Plato’s judgment on, 20, 242
of Myths, Grote on, 232, 234, 243
Neo-Platonic, Zeller’s opinion of, 242
Dante’s, 244
Allegorical tales deliberately made, 16
Allegorisation of Homer, 231 ff.
by the Stoics, 233, 234
Plutarch on, 231, 232
by Stoics, Cicero on, 233
Mr. Adam on, 233
Allegorisation of Old Testament, Philo’s,
234 ff.
by Christian Fathers, 236, 237
521
364
Apocalypse, the astronomical, 361 ff.
relation of, to Sacramental Cults,
365-8
Apuleius, his interpretation of the Ulysses
Myth, 241, 242
demonology of, 445 ff.
Aquinas, St. Thomas, on the Earthly
Paradise, 104
Archer-Hind, Mr., his Timaeus quoted,
269
Aristippus, Henricus, translated Phaedo
and Meno in 1156, 102
Aristotle and Eudemus echo Timaeus, 90
c, 295
Aristotle, misapprehends the Timaeus, 269
his God, 355
poetised astronomy, 163, 164
his poetised astronomy, influence of,
on Dante, 163, 164
his supposed tomb near Chalcis, 153
Plato’s καλλίπολις misunderstood by,
58
gives up ideas of a Personal God and
of Personal Immortality of the Soul,
53
Aristotelian astronomy, 354
Astronomy, part played by, in Poetry,
163
ak 2
522
THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Atlantis Myth and maritime discovery, ; Callaway, on one-legged people ; οἵ, Myth
468
Axiochus, the, date and characteristics of,
110
places the world of the departed in the
southern hemisphere of the earth,
110
singular in its localisation of the πεδίον
ἀληθείας, 358
Bacon, his allegorical interpretation of
Myths, 242
his definition of Poetry, 387
Bacon, Roger, on the Earthly Paradise, 105
Berkeley, his Siris characterised and
quoted, 518, 519
as Platonist, 517 ff.{
Bernard, his translation of Kant’s Kritik
d. Urtheilskraft quoted, 222 ff.
Bigg, Dr., on allegorisation of Homer by
the Stoics, 233
on allegorical interpretation, 236:
on Myth of Cupid and Psyche, 245
Boeckh, referred to for Plato’s astronomy,
354
Book of the Dead, 130
Bosanquet, Prof. B., on “ present” as “ ex-
tended time,” 56
Bran, The Voyage of, referred to for
connection between notions of metem-
psychosis, metamorphosis, and preg-
nancy without male intervention,
304
Brownell, C. L., quoted for Japanese
story of origin of tea, 14
Brunetto Latini, on the infernal rivers,
103
Buddhism, attitude of, to belief in Im-
mortality, 301
Budge, Dr., on Book of the Dead, 66
on a prehistoric form of burial in
Egypt, 378
Bunbury, on the geography of the Atlantis
Myth, 466 ff.
Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, an allegory
and also a myth, 16, 246
Burnet, Prof., on the σφόνδυλοι of the
orrery in Myth of Er, 165
referred to on Plato’s astronomy, 354
on the Poem of Parmenides, 351
on the monsters and “organic com-
binations’’ of Empedocles, 409
Bury, Prof., on spread of Orphic cult, 66
Butcher, Prof., his Aristotle's Theory of
Poetry and Fine Art referred to, 391
Butler, on Necessity and Freedom, 172
Bywater, Prof., on the Epinomis, 439
Caird, Dr. E., on Kant’s Ideas of Reason,
quoted, 48
Callaway, Nursery Tales of the Zulus,
quoted, 8-10
told by Aristophanes in Symposium,
408
Cambridge Platonists, their learning,
475 ff.
influenced in two directions, by Philo
and by Plotinus respectively, 479 ff.
maintain that Moses taught the motion
of the Earth, 478, 489
their enthusiasm for the new astronomy,
486 ff.
their science, 486 ff.
their central doctrine, the Doctrine of
Ideas as theory of union of man
with God in knowledge and conduct,
494, 495
go back to Plato the mythologist rather
than to Plato the dialectician, 494
their epistemology, 502
their epistemology, derived from the
doctrine of ἐδέαι “‘mythologically” set
forth, explains their theory of Reason
as Moral Faculty, 503 ff.
their discussion of the relation of God’s
‘* Will” to his “ Wisdom and Good-
ness,” 505 ff.
their doctrine of Categorical Imperative,
512 ff.
enable us to connect the ‘formalism ”
of Kant and Green with the “ myth-
ology” of the Phaedrus and Sym-
posium, 515
Campbell, Prof., on Protagoras Myth,
221
Carus, his Gesch. d. Zoologie referred to, 17
Catastrophes, doctrine of, in Plato and
the Peripatetics, 196
Categorical Imperative, doctrine of, in
Cambridge Platonists, 512 ff.
Kant’s doctrine of, criticised by
Schopenhauer, 514
Categories of the Understanding and
Moral Virtues, Plato’s mythological
** deduction” of, 50
Categories of the Understanding, mytho-
logical deduction of, 337 ff.
the Forms seen in the Super-celestial
Place explained as, 339 ff.
Cave, Plato’s Allegory of, 250 ff.
an allegory and also a myth, 16
its meaning, 56
Schwanitz on, 252
Couturat on, 252
Cebetis Tabula, 245
Chalcidius, translated the Timaeus, 102
quoted on Daemons, 436
his version of the Timaeus, how far
used by Dante, 468
Charles, Prof. R. H., his editions of
Secrets of Enoch and Ascension of
Isaiah, referred to, 361, 362
Choice of Hercules, 2, 245
INDEX
Chureh, Dean, on The Letter to Kan
Grande, 18
Cicero, eschatology of hia Somnium
Scipionia and Tuse, Diep. 353
Circe and Calypso Myths, Neo-Platonic
interpretation of, 240 ff.
Claudian, on the Earthly Paradise, 105
“Olear and Distinct Ideas,” 509
Clough, quoted to illustrate doctrine of
κόλασις and κάθαρσις in Gorgias,
126
Coelo, de, influence of, in the Paradiso,
353
Coleridge, on “ poetic faith,” 6
on deep sky akin to feeling, 22
quoted for the statement that a poem
ought not to be all poetry, 34
on Plato's doctrine of the pre-existence
of the Soul, 61
on Wordsworth’s Ode on Intimations
of Immortality, 61
his Anima Poetae quoted, 258
on Dante's Canzone xx., 258
regards the Platonic doctrine of Pre-
existence as mythical, 344
holds that Poetry may exist without
metre, 389, 390
Comparetti, on gold tablets of Thurii and
Petelia, 130, 156
on the Aalewala, 204
Conscience, Cardinal Newman on, as con-
necting principle between creature
and Creator, 447
Guardian Daemon as, 447, 448
Conybeare, Mr., his Philo, de Vita Con-
templativa, referred to, 234
Cook, Mr. A. B., on the Sicilian triskeles,
and the Myth told by Aristophanes
in Symposium, 408
Cornford, Mr. F. M., on the φύλακες of
the Republic and the Hesiodic
Daemons, 436
Courthope, Mr., his definition of Poetry
quoted, 36
Couturat, on doctrine of Immortality of
the Soul as held by Plato, 61, 70
Timaeus totus mythicus est, 197
on the Cave, 252
holds that the whole doctrine of ἐδέαι
is mythical, 348
Cratylus, the, on the Philosopher Death,
127, 128
on the Sirens, 128
Creuzer, Plotinus de Pulchritudine, quoted,
240, 241
Cudworth, his criticism of Descartes com-
pared with criticism of the same
tendency in Prof. Ward's Naturalism
and Agnosticism, 477, 478
conceives God spatially, 487
supplies the link between the epistemo-
logical theism of Green and the
523
mythology of the Timaews and
Phaedrua, 498
Cudworth, his eriticiam of the sensational.
iam of Hobbes, 497, 498
his criticiam of Descartes, 509 ff,
Cultus Myth, a variety of the Aetiological
Story, illustrated, 13
Cumberland, criticised by Maxwell, 513 ff.
Cumont, his Mystéres de Mithra, 365
his criticism of Dieterich’s Mithras-
liturgie, 365
Cupid and Psyche, Myth of, Mr, A. Lang
on, 245
Dr. Bigg on, 245
Daemon, Guardian, doctrine of, connected
with belief in re-incarnation of Souls
of ancestors, 449, 450
as Conscience, 447, 448
Daemon, the, of Socrates, 445, 448; ef.
2, 3
Daemons, doctrine of, 434 ff.
two kinds of, recognised by Plato, 436 ff.
Dante, Lelter to Kan Grande, quoted for
distinction between literal and alle-
gorical truth, 18-19
Convivio, quoted for literal, allegoric,
moral, and anagogic interpretation,
19-20
his ‘‘ personal religion,” 19
expresses Transcendental Feeling in last
canto of Par. and 25th sonnet of
V. N., 23
V. N. sonnet 24, quoted for effect
produced similar to that produced
by Plato’s Eschatological Myths, 26
V. Δι sonnet 11, quoted to illustrate
the ‘‘magic” of certain kinds of
Poetry, 38
Hell, Mount of Purgatory, and Earthly
Paradise, compared with the Tartarus
and True Surface of the Earth in the
Phaedo, 101 ff.
Quaestio de Aqua et Terra, 102
the tears of this world flow in the
rivers of his Hell, 103
singular in locating Purgatory on the
slopes of the Mountain of the Earthly
Paradise, 104
Mount of Purgatory sighted by Ulysses,
104
his use of the teleological geography of
Orosius, 105, 106
his mythological explanation of the
distribution of plants, 106, 107
the human race created to make good
the loss of the fallen angels, 106
‘“the seven P’s,” 130
the three parts ot his 1). C. correspond
to the ‘‘ Three Ways,” 132
Lethe and Eunoé, 154 ff.
Earthly Paradise, 154 ff.
524
Dante, his mythology of Lethe and Eunoé
compared with the Platonic ἀνά-
μνησις, 158
κάθαρσις by gradual ascent of Mount of
Purgatory takes the place of κάθ-
apois by metempsychosis, 159
appearance of Saints in the moving
Spheres, 165
and the Timaeus, 210
his allegorisation of the story of the
three Marys, 244
Inferno, iv. 46-48, and Plato’s Cave,
253
Coleridge on, 258
“* suppressed” symbolism in, 258
Procession in Purg. xxix. ff., 339
on relation of Philosophy to Science,
342
compares the Platonic ἐδέαι to “ Gods,”
347
on the number of Beatrice, 350
Paradiso, latest example of the astro-
nomical apocalypse, 353
Convivio, quoted for his astronomical
system, 164, 355 ff.
on influence of Planets in producing
temperaments, 358, 359
regards his vision of Paradiso as having
sacramental value, 367
theory in the de Monarchia compared
with that of the Republic and Atlantis
Myth, 454
his knowledge of the Timaeus through
the version and commentary of
Chalcidius, 468
Darwin, on the feebleness of imagination
in the lower animals, 4
his Expression of the Emotions in Man
and Animals referred to, 342
Dead, Book of the, Egyptian, 66
Delphi, place assigned to, by the side of
the Platonic State, 58
Descartes, criticised by Cambridge Pla-
tonists, as ignoring the ‘‘ plastic
principle,” 478, 493
criticised by Cudworth, 478, 491, 498,
509 ff.
Dialogue, the Platonic, two elements in
—Argumentative Conversation and
Myth, 1
Dieterich, on Orphic
Aldov, 66, 154
on refrigerium, 161
on Mithraic κλῖμαξ ἑπτάπυλος, 162
his Mithrasliturgie referred to for
influence of Posidonius, 352
his Mithrasliturqie, 365 ff.
Dill, Professor, referred to for mixture
of Science and Myth in Macrobius,
101
on Plutarch’s allegorisation of Egyptian
Myths, 232
κατάβασις els
THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Dill, Professor, quoted on Macrobius’ Com-
mentary on the Somniwm Scipionis,359
Disorderly Crew, Plato’s Allegory of,
253 ff.
Dramatists, the Athenian, their attitude
to the doctrine of the Immortality
of the Soul, 62 ff.
take the Family, rather than the In-
dividual, as the moral unit, 63
Dream-consciousness, induced by Poetry,
382 ff.
“Dream-thing,” the, illustrated from
Wordsworth’s Prelude, 153
Dream-world, the, of the primitive story-
teller characterised, 5
Diiring, holds that the Phaedrus Myth is
a “ Programme,” 338
Earth, rotundity of, recognised by Plato
in Phaedo, 94
central position of, in Phaedo, 94
Earthly Paradise, the, 103 ff.
of Dante and medieval belief, 104 ff.
Dante’s, 154 ff.
Earthquake and thunder accompany new
birth in Myth of Er and Dante,
Purgatorio, xxi., 159
Ecstasy, Plotinus quoted on, 385
as understood by Cambridge Platonists,
480 ff.
‘‘ Empirical” distinguished from ‘ Tran-
scendental”’ Feeling, 389
Enoch, Secrets of, referred to, 361 ff.
Eothen, Kinglake’s, quoted to illustrate
allegory of Disorderly Crew, 254 ff.
Epictetus on Guardian Daemon as Con-
science, 448, 449
Epimetheus, contrasted with Prometheus,
225 ff.
Epinomis, demonology of, 445
Er, Myth of, place of, in the Republic, 64,
72, 73
great philosophical question raised in,
169 ff.
Evvolas θεός in Mithraic doctrine, 162
Evil, origin of, mythically explained in
Politicus Myth, 197, 198
presence of, in Heaven, 367
Exeter Book, the, on the Earthly Paradise,
105
Expression, importance attached by Plato
to, as reacting on that which is ex-
pressed, 113
reaction of, on that which is expressed,
342
Eyes, the final cause of, 356
Fairbanks, Mr. A., on cremation and
ἀνάβασις, 379
Fall, the, of Souls as conceived by the
Neo-Platonists, 360
Ficino, on the Narcissus Myth, 240
INDEX
Prof., on Book of the; Gummere, Prof., makes metrical form
Flinders Petrie,
66
referred to for Book of the Dead, 180
Galton, Mr, F., on power of visualisation,
381
Gardner, Prof. P., on (hiasi, 71
on the story of Zagreus, 409
on Prophecy, 431
on new epoch opened for Hellas by
Alexander, 454
on Apocalypses, 455
Gebhart (/'/talie mystique), on Dante's
* personal religion,” 19
Gems, mythological theory of origin of,
in Phaedo, 94, 95
Dante on origin of virtues of, 95
Geology of Attica in Atlantis Myth,
465 ff.
Gfrérer (Urchristenthum), on Philo’s al-
legorical method, 234 ff,
Ghosts, H. More on, 96
Gildersleeve, Prof., on Pindar,
75, 68
Glaucon in Rep. 608 τ, attitude of, to
doctrine of Immortality of the Soul,
Οἱ. ii.
64
Goblet d’Alviella, on connection between
Egyptian and Greek guide-books for
the use of the dead, 66
on Initiation as Death and Re- birth,
377 ff.
God, a Personal, isa Part, not the Whole,
53
Goethe, quoted to illustrate the “ magic”
of certain kinds of Poetry, 37
Gollancz, his edition of the Lxeter Book,
105
Good, the, not one of the objects of
Knowledge, but its condition, 59,
οἵ, 44
Gray, Sir George, his version of Maori
story of Children of Heaven and
Earth, quoted, 11-13
Green, T. H., his doctrine of “the Presence
of the Eternal Consciousness in my
Consciousness,” its Platonic proven-
ance, 486, 493 ff.
his Eternal Consciousness compared
with the Ideal World of Cambridge
Platonists, 501
his Philosophy a revival of Christian
Platonism, 516
Grote, on the Cultus Myth, 13
on doctrine of Immortality of the Soul
as held by Plato, 61
on thiasi, 71
on the general characteristics of the
Politicus Myth, 196
on the Protagoras Myth, 220
on allegorical interpretation, 243
on story of Zagreus, 409
-- -- τ -.--ς-ς-ςςςςς-ς-ς-ς--Ἐς SES a
δ2ῦ
ewontial to Poetry, 591
Hades, Voyage of Odysseus to, of Orphic
origin, 66
Harrison, Misa, on the Cultus Myth, 14
on the Sirens, 127
her Prolegomena to Study of (Creek
Religion referred to, 154
on Dante's Eunos, 161
on story of Zagreus, 409
Hatch, on allegorical interpretation, 236
on Angels and Daemons, 450
Heavens, motion of, determines sublun-
ary events, 196
motion of, in the Politicus Myth, and
in the accepted astronomy, 198
Hegel, his view of the δαιμόνιον of
Socrates, 3
on doctrine of Immortality of the Soul
as held by Plato, 61
on the Soul as Universal, 228
Helbig, on Prometheus sarcophagus in
Capitol, 229
Heraclitus, his ξηρὴ ψυχή as understood
by Neo-Platonists, 240, 360
Hesiod on the Five Ages, 434, 435
his Daemons, 434, 435
Hierocles, on bodies terrestrial, aerial, and
astral, 439
History, relation of mythology to, accord-
ing to Plato, 94
Hobbes, his Social Covenant a “ founda-
tion-myth,” 171
his disproof of Spirit or Incorporeal
Substance criticised by More, 492
his sensationalism criticised by Cud-
worth, 497, 498
Holland, Philemon, his version of Plut-
arch’s Moralia, 369, 441
‘Trrepoupdvios τόπος of Phaedrus and the
Aristotelian God compared, 355
Idealists, modern English, go back to
Plato the mythologist rather than to
Plato the dialectician, 494
their central doctrine that of the
Cambridge Platonists—the Doctrine of
Ideas as theory of union of Man with
God in knowledge and conduct, 495
Ideas, Doctrine of, how far mythical ?
347 ff.
as adopted by Cambridge Platonists
and modern English Idealists, 494
** Ideas of Reason,’’ Soul, Cosmos, and God,
set forth by Plato in Myth, not
scientifically, 49
mythological representation of, 337 ff.
Imagination, rather than Reason, dis-
tinguishes man from brute, 4
part played by, in the development of
human thought, 4-6
520
Immisch referred to for medieval transla-
tion of the Phaedo, 102
Immortality of the Soul, attitude of
Simonides, Tyrtaeus, Attic Orators,
Dramatists, Aristotle, the Athenian
Public, to doctrine of, 61 ff.
Plato’s doctrine of, according to Hegel,
Zeller, Grote, Coleridge, Thiemann,
Couturat, Jowett, Adam, 61, 62,
70, 71
personal, presented by Plato in Myth, 53
agnosticism regarding, in the Athens of
Plato’s day, 61 ff.
conceived by Plato eminently in Myth,
61, 73, 74
Plato’s doctrine of, according to Jowett,
70
three sorts of, distinguished, 300 ff.
attitude of Buddhism to belief in, 301
**Tmperial Hellas,’ ideal of, in Plato,
454 ff.
ideal of, how far it competes with that
of Personal Salvation in Plato, 455,
456
Initiation, as ceremonial Death and Re-
birth, 368, 377, 378
THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Kant, his distinction between Categories
of the Understanding and Ideas of
Reason not explicit in Plato’s mind,
but sometimes implicitly recognised
by him, 45
his distinction between Categories of
the Understanding and Ideas of
Reason explained, 45 ff.
in charging Plato with “transcendental
use, or rather misuse, of the Categories
of the Understanding,” ignores the
function of Myth in the Platonic
philosophy, 72.
his Critique of Judgment quoted, 222 ff.
on distinction between the Teleological
and the Mechanical explanations of
the world, 222 ff.
his theology that of the Platonist, 514
Κατάβασις els” Acdov, Dieterich on, 154
Rohde on, 154
Lobeck on, 252
the, eschatology of, 351 ff.
Κάθαρσις, poetic, 393
King, Mr. J. E., on infant burial, 200, 450
Kingsley, Miss, on re-incarnation of souls
of deceased relatives, 450
Ton, Plato’s, a study of “Poetic Inspira- Knowledge, Theory of, common to Cam-
tion,” 382
Isaiah, Ascension of, referred to, 362
Islands of the Blessed, 107 ff.
in the Platonic Myths, 108, 109
in Greek and Celtic mythology, 108
bridge Platonists and modern English
Idealists, 495
| Kiihner, on the δαίμονιον of Socrates, 3
Land, Prof. J. P. N., on Physiologus, 17
in Gorgias, identical with “True Surface ; Lang, Mr. A., on Myth of Uranus and
of the Earth” in Phaedo, and
** Heaven” in Myth of Er, 107-110
Jackson, Dr.
Socrates, 3
James, Dr. M. R., on Apocalypse of Paul,
364
James, Prof. W., on teleology, 52
his Varieties of Religious Experience
referred to, 480
his essay on ‘‘Reflex Action and
Theism ” referred to, 517
Jevons, Dr., on thiasi, 71
on the story of Zagreus, 409
Johnstone, Mr. P. de L., his Muhammad
and his Power quoted, 363
Jowett, on Imagination and Reason, 4
on Plato's attitude to doctrine of Im-
mortality of the Soul, 70
on the general characteristics of the
Politicus Myth, 196
H., on the δαιμόνιον of
Kaibel, on gold tablets found at Thurii
and Petelia, 156
Kalewala, the, described, 203, 204
story of the Birth of Iron, in the, 204 ff.
German version of, by H. Paul, 204
Καλλίπολις, Plato's, not an isolated munici-
pality, but an Empire-city, 58
Cronus, 11
on Myth of Cupid and Psyche, 245
on savage analogies for Greek mysteries,
378
Leibniz, his “ Pre-established Harmony”
and “ Prenatal Choice” in Myth of
Er compared, 170
describes the doctrine of ἀνάμνησις as
mythical, 344
Lelewel, referred to for position of Earthly
Paradise, 104
Lélut, on the δαιμόνιον of Socrates, 3
Lethe, the River of, its locality discussed,
154
Thiemann on locality of, 154
not one of the infernal rivers, 154, 168
its locality in the Aeneid, 154, 155
and Mnemosyne in the Orphic cult,
156 ff.
topography of, in Myth of Er, and
Petelia Tablet compared, 157
drinking of, precedes re-incarnation,
157
and Mnemosyneat Oracle of Trophonius,
160
Roscher on references to, 168
Liddell, Professor Mark H., makes
metrical form essential to Poetry,
391, 392
INDEX
Lie, the, in the Soul, what? δά
527
Millet’s “Sower,” 250
Lobeck, Aglaophamus on the “ἢ Cycle of | Milton, adheres to old astronomy in
Incarnationas,"”’ 156
on the allegorisation of Homer, 231
on story of Zagreus, 409
on re-incarnation of souls of deceased
relatives, 450
Lotze, his distinction between the Reality
of Existence and the Reality of
Validity, appears in Norris, 500
Love song, the “ magic” of, 37
Lucian on the Stoic ‘Steep Hill of
Virtue,’ 104
Lucifer, the Fall of, how made use of by
Dante, 106
Mackinder, Mr. H. J., on “ Atlantis,”
466
Macrobius, on the Bowl of Dionysus, 239
his Commentary on the Somnium
Scipionis compared with the Phae-
drus Myth, 360
on influence of Planets in producing
temperaments, 359, 360
Madness, four kinds of, distiguished in
Phaedrus, 306, 339
**Magic” of certain kinds of Poetry dis-
cussed and illustrated, 36, 38
Mahomet, Vision of, quoted, 363
Malebranche, his doctrine of “seeing all
all things in God” adopted by
Norris, 501
Make-believe and Belief, 6, 7
Mann, Max Friedr., his Bestiaire Divin
referred to, 17
Maoris, their Story of the Children of
Heaven and Earth quoted, 11-13
Marcus Aurelius on the aerial habitat of
souls, 437, 438
on Guardian Daemon as Conscience,
449
Masson, Professor, on Milton’s De Jded
Platonicd, 348
Maximus Tyrius, demonology of, 447,
448
Maxwell, his criticism of Cumberland,
his theory of obligation, 514, 515
Meadow (λειμών), the, of the Judgment-
Seat, position of, 152 “Ὁ
Mechanism and Teleology, 508
Metempsychosis, and Resurrection, 198 ff.
not necessarily connected with notions |
of Retribution and Purification,
302 ff.
relation of, to metamorphosis, and to
me i without male intervention,
302 ff.
Meteorologica, geography of, 467
Paradise Loat, 163
his Poom De JdeA PlatonicA quemad-
modum Aristoteles intellexit, quoted,
847 {,
Mirror and Bow! of Dionysus, Neo- Platonic
interpretation of, 239-40
Mitchell, Mra., on Prometheus sarcopha-
gus in Capitol, 229
Mithras cult, the κλῖμαξ ἑπτάπυλοιε of,
162
Mithrasliturgie, Dieterich's, 365 ff.
Mnemosyne, drinking of, precedes final
disembodiment of purified soul, 157
Models, astronomical, in antiquity, 165
Moore, Dr. E., on authenticity of the
Quaestio de Aqua e Terra, 102
on the geography of Orosius, 105
on references in Paradiso to Revelation
of St. John, 361
More, H., on the Plastic Principle in
Nature, 95 ff.
on vehicles, terrestrial,
aethereal, 96
on the Millennium, 97
a soul must have a vehicle of some
kind, 97
on the effect upon terrestrial and aerial
bodies of the Fire of the Last Day,
97, 98
on sunspots, 98
one of his ‘‘ Myths” quoted, 98 ff.
indebtedness of his mythology of aerial
daemons to that of the Platonists
and Stoies, 99
his belief in witchcraft, 100
on the number 729, 349
his view of the end of the Scripture,
432
his Philosophickal Poems quoted, 487 ff.,
496, 505
criticises Hobbes’s disproof of Incor-
poreal Substance, 492
Morfill, Professor, his translation of Secrets
of Enoch referred to, 361
Moses Atticus, Plato as, 476
Mundo, de, astronomy of, 353
geography of, 467
Murray, Mr. G. G. A., on Brit. Mus. Gold
Tablets, 156
Myer and Nutt’s Voyage of Bran, on
conception without male intervention,
199
Myers, F. W. H., on the δαιμόνιον of
Socrates, 3
makes changes in tension of muscles of
the throat essential part of poetic
excitation, 393
aerial, and
Metre and Representation, the place of Mysteries, stronghold in Greece of doctrine
each in Poetry, 388 ff.
Millennium, the, H. More on, 97
of Immortality, 65
Mysticism, Goethe's definition of, 70
528 THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Myth, the eschatological, characterised,
14
interpretation of, must be psychological,
16
the vehicle of exposition chosen by
Plato, when he deals with the
a priori conditions of conduct and
science, 49
education of children to begin with,
according to Plato, 53 ff.
Plato brings, into conformity with
science as far as possible, 94
not to be taken literally, according to
Plato, but to be ‘sung over oneself”
till the charm of it touches the
heart, 113
aetiological, value attached to, by
Plato, 201 ff.
aetiological, in the Kalewala, 203, 204
its two “ meanings,” 244
the Phaedo, motif of, Moral Responsi-
bility, 114
the Gorgias, Moral Responsibility the
motif of, 126
the Gorgias, its theory of κόλασις and
κάθαρσι----οἵ Punishment and Pardon,
126, 127
the Gorgias, its rendering of the wonder
and reverence with which man re-
gards Death, 127, 128
the Gorgias, on the infinite difference
between vice with large and vice
with small opportunity, 129 ff.
distinguished from Allegory and Parable,
15
Myth and Allegory, Westcott on, 243
difference between illustrated from
Spanish chapel fresco, 429
Myth and Ritual compared, 58
Myths, introduction of, perhaps suggested
to Plato by certain passages in the
conversation of Socrates, 2
Plato’s, appeal to that part of the
soul which expresses itself, not in
theoretic, but in value-judgments,
or rather, value-feelings, 21
Plato’s, effect produced by, compared
with that produced by contemplation
of Nature, 22
Plato’s, effect produced by, compared
with that produced by Poetry
generally, 22 ff.
Plato’s, described as Dreams expressive
of Transcendental Feeling, 42
allegorical interpretation of,
judgment on, 242
allegorical interpretation of, Bacon’s,
242
Plato’s
Narcissus Myth, Neo-Platonic allegorisa-
tion of, 239, 240
“ Necessary ” Truth, what? 504
Necessity, the throne of, in the Myth of
Er, where? 153, 165 ff.
Nettleship, R. L., on the lack of organic
connection in latter half of Rep. x.,
73
on the νῶτον οὐρανοῦ, 165
Newman, Cardinal, on Conscience as
connecting principle between creature
and Creator, 447
Newton, his Principia quoted for his
theological belief, 489 ff.
Norris, his Reason and Religion referred
to, 480, 481, 498 ff
on ecstasy and the holy life, 481
on the a priori in knowledge, 499
distinguishes, as Lotze does, between
Reality of Existence and of Validity,
500
his Ideal World compared with T. H.
Green’s Eternal Consciousness, 501
adopts Malebranche’s doctrine of “See-
ing all things in God,” 501
on moral obligation, 503
Number 729, 349, 350
7, instances given of its importance, 360
Obligation, how Reason imposes, accord-
ing to Platonism, 503
Old Testament, Philo’s allegorisation of,
234 ff.
Olympiodorus on the infernal rivers, 168
Optimism and Pessimism, 506 ff.
Orators, Attic, their attitude to the
doctrine of the Immortality of the
Soul, 61 ff.
Orosius and the doctrine of one continu-
ous οἰκουμένη, 105
Orphic cult, spread of, 65 ff.
Plato’s attitude to, 66 ff.
Philosophy described by Plato in terms
of, 69
Lethe and Mnemosyne in, 156 ff.
Orphic κατάβασις els “Acdov, 66
Orphic priests, as distinguished from
Orphic doctrine, Plato’s attitude to,
70
Orrery, the, in the Myth of Er, 165
Pandora Myth, in Hesiod, 238
Parable, Reville on, 250
Parables, the, of the New Testament, 250
Paradiso, the, latest example of the
** Astronomical Apocalypse,” 364
Parmenides, the celestial eschatology of
the opening lines of his Poem, 351
Paul, H., his version of the Kalewala, 204
Pausanias on Lethe and Mnemosyne at
oracle of Trophonius, 160
| Πεδίον ἀληθείας, the, 355 fi.
Plotinus on, 357
Plutarch on, 357, 358
the Awxiochus on, 358
INDEX
Personal God, idea of, presented by Plato
in Myth, 58
Pessimism and Optimism, 506 ff,
Phaedo, hydrostatics of, criticised by
Aristotle, 102
medieval translation of, 102
Phaedrus Myth, the, celestial or astro-
nomical mise en scéne of ita eschat-
ology, 350 ἢ,
Philo, his allegorical interpretation of the
Old Testament, 18, 254 ff.
on the number 729, 349
on Jewish Angels and Greek Daemons,
450
influence of, on Cambridge Platonists,
480
daa ~ ag as Life and Immortality, 428,
42
Physiologus described and quoted, 17
Pilgrim's Progress, at once an Allegory
and a Myth, 246
quoted, 246 ἢ,
Pillar of Light, the, in the Myth of Er,
discussed, 152, 167 ff.
Pindar, his eschatology, 66 ff.
Plato's debt to, 68
Pitra, on Physiologus, referred to, 17
Planets, influence of, in producing tem-
peraments, 358 ff.
Plastic Principle, the, ignored by Des-
cartes, 478, 493
explains, for Cambridge Platonists, the
existence of ‘vehicles’ without
which the ‘‘ Eternal Consciousness”
could not “reproduce ” itself, 493
of Cambridge Platonists compared with
the “Spiritual Principle” of modern
English Idealists, 494
Plato, as Moses Atticus, 210
his attitude to Teleology, 224 ff.
his attitude to the allegorisation of
Myths, 231
his astronomy, 354
Platonism, as temper,
Berkeley's life, 517 ff.
. A, on Plato and Geology,
illustrated by
of Trophonius, 160
Plotinus, attitude of to the “‘ Problem of
the Universe,” 45
his allegorisation of the Myth of Pro-
metheus and Pandora, 238
his allegorisation of Narcissus Myth,
239
quoted on mirror and bowl of Dionysus,
360
his interpretation of Diotima’s allegory,
428
influence of, on Cambridge Platonists,
480 ff.
on θεωρία and ἔρως (directed to ἐδέαι)
529
as constituting the Principle of Life,
503, 604
Plutarch, on the justice of punishing
children for sins of fathers, 63
on allegorisation of Homer, 231, 232
his Aridaeus-Theapesiua Myth, given,
and commented on, 369 ff,
his power of colour-vieualisation, 381
on νοῦς, ψυχή, and σῶμα supplied by
Sun, Moon, and Earth respectively,
440, 441
his daemonology, 441 #ff.
his Timarchus Myth given, 441 ff.
* Poetic Truth,’ what ? 384 ff.
Poetry, chief end of, production and
regulation of Transcendental Feeling,
33 ff.
its effect identical with that produced
by other Fine Arts, and sometimes
even with that produced by con-
templation of Nature and Human
Life, and by the memories of Child-
hood and Youth, 35
a Theory of, 382 ff.
Posidonius, influence of, on development
of astronomical eschatology, 352
on aerial daemons, 438
Postgate, Mr. J. P.,
128
Pre-existence and ἀνάμνησις, Zeller on,
343 ff.
Pringle-Pattison, Professor A. S., referred
to, 52
on “Categories in Things,” 340
“Problem of the Universe,” relation of
Thought and Transcendental Feeling
respectively to, 44, 45
attitude of Plotinus to, 45
Prometheus, contrasted with Epimetheus,
225 ff.
Prometheus Myth, on Capitoline Sar-
cophagus, 228 ff.
various versions of, 229
lends itself easily to allegorisation,
230
allegorised by Plotinus, 238
Prophecy, Professor P. Gardner on, 431,
433
Prophetic Temperament, the, Diotima a
study of, 430 ff.
Spinoza on, 430, 431
Purgatory, Dante’s Mount of, and the
Stoic “Steep hill of Virtue” com-
pared, 104
on the Sirens,
Rabelais, quoted in comparison with the
Myth told by Aristophanes in Sym-
postum, 410 fff.
Rashdall, Dr., referred to for medieval
translation of the Phaedo, 102
Refrigerium, doctrine of, taken in con-
nection with Dante’s Eunoé, 161
530
THE MYTHS OF PLATO
Religious Consciousness, the, demands a| Shelley, Adonais quoted for effect pro-
Personal God, 51
how opposed to the Scientific Under-
standing, 52 ff.
Renan, on Spanish Chapel fresco, 114
Representation and Metre, the place of
each in Poetry, 388 ff.
Resurrection, doctrine of, 198 ff
Revelation of St. John, not an “ Astro-
nomical Apocalypse,” 361
Dante little indebted to, 361
Reville, on the profound philosophy of
Myths, 16
on Rite and Myth, 58
on Ritual, 256
Ritschl, his view of Inspiration, 433
Ritual, compared with Myth, 58
with Myth and Allegory, 256 ff.
Robertson-Smith, on relation of Myth to
Ritual, 14
Rohde, on Greek agnosticism regarding
Immortality of the Soul, 62
on Orphic rites, 65
on Pindar’s eschatology, 67
on κατάβασις els “Acdov, 154
on refrigerium, 161
on ἄωροι, 200
Roscher, on Lethe, 168
Round People, the, of Aristophanes, com-
pared with the Sicilian triskeles, 408
compared with Zulu and Arabian one-
legged people, 408
compared with the monsters of Em-
pedocles, 408, 409
Rouse, Mr., on votive figures, 153
Ruskin, on Spanish Chapel fresco, 114,
257
Sander, on Geography of Atlantis Myth,
466
Scartazzini, on Dante’s Purgatory and
Earthly Paradise, 104
Schiller, Mr. F. C.8., on ἐνέργια ἀκινησίας,
164
Schleiermacher, on the Protagoras Myth,
220, 227 fff.
Schmidt, on Dante’s Quaestio de Aqua et
Terra, 103
referred to for position of the Earthly
Paradise, 104
Schopenhauer, his Freedom in esse com-
pared with Prenatal Choice in Myth
of Er, 171
his definition of Poetry, 387
his criticism of Kant’s Categorical Im-
perative, 514
Schwanitz, on Allegory of the Cave, 252
Scylax, his περίπλους referred to, 467
Seneca’s Letter to Marcia, eschatology of,
353
Sensitive Soul, supervenes upon the
Vegetative, 40
duced similar to that produced by
Plato’s Eschatological Myths, 27 ff.
on distinction between poetry and
prose, 390
γα τάων. The Recollection, quoted,
Simonides, his attitude to doctrine of
Immortality of the Soul, 62
Sirens, the, associated with Death, 127
Miss Harrison on, 127
Mr. J. P. Postgate on, 128
Smith, John, his view of the relation
between a Holy Life and a Right
Belief, 432
on ecstasy and the Holy Life, 481
differs from Cudworth and More in
relying less on “Science” than on
‘“‘moral feeling” for proof of the
existence of God, 491, 492
distinguishes κίνησις προβατική and
κίνησις κυκλική, 496
Socrates, his “‘mesmeric ” influence, 2
his Daemon, 2, 3
Somnium Scipionis probably owes its
astronomy to Posidonius, 439
astronomical eschatology of, 353
Sophists, the—their use of Allegories or
Illustrative Fables, 1
Soul, the Idea of, as represented in
Plato’s Eschatological Myths, 60 ff.
Soul-stuff, in Timaeus, 304 f.
Souls, number of, fixed, 198, 199
Spanish Chapel, fresco referred to, 114
referred to to illustrate difference
between Myth and Allegory, 429
Spencer and Gillen on Souls of ancestors
entering into women, 199
Spenser, the human race created to make
good the loss of the fallen angels, 106
his allegory of Castle of Medina, 257
Spinoza, his view that religion is a matter
of piety rather than of dogmatic
truth, 59
on the Prophetic Temperament, 430,
431
Springs, hot and cold, origin of, in
Phaedo, 94 .
Stallbaum, on the general characteristics
of the Politicus Myth, 196
on Protagoras Myth, 221
on Myth and Dialectic, 242
Stevenson, R. L., his Woodman quoted,
40
Stoics, the, their doctrine of ovyxard-
θεσις, 63
their allegorisation of Homer, 233, 234
their doctrine of aerial habitat of
daemons and souls of the dead,
437 ff.
Story-telling, love of, importance of for
the development of man, 5
INDEX
531
Btory- tolling, ΥΩ ‘about people and | Toynbee, Dr, on Dante's soquaintance
animals,” 6 ff
Stories, dintinguished as Simply Anthropo-
logical and Zoological, Aetiological,
and Eschatological, 8 ff.
Simply Anthropological and Zoological,
illustrated, 8 ff,
Actiological, illustrated, 10-14
and magic, 1
various classes of, 10
Cosmological, a variety of the actio-
logical story, 10-13
Sun, western rising of, in Atreus Myth,
19
rising where he now sets, and setting
where he now rises, in Egyptian
story, 197
Symbolism, “suppressed,” illustrated from
Dante, 258
Tablets, attached to Souls by Judges of
the Dead, 180
gold, of Thurii and Petelia, 130, 156 ff.
Tablet, Petelia, quoted, 156
Tannery, on Orphic rites, 65
Tartarus, has entrance and exit separate
in Phaedo and Myth of Er, 112
Teleology, attitude of the religious con-
sciousness and the scientific under-
standing respectively to, 52
Plato's attitude to, 224 ff.
and Mechanism, 508
Teleological and mechanical explanations
of the World, distinction between,
set forth in Protagoras Myth, 222 ff.
Theodore of Mopsuestia, his exegesis, 237
Thiasi, and personal, as distinguished
from official, religion, 71
Thiemann, on doctrine of Immorality of
the Soul as held by Plato, 60
on locality of Lethe, 154
Thomas the Rhymer, Ballad of, quoted
for rivers of blood in Elf-land, 103
referred to for the ‘*Three Ways,”
131
Thompson, regards the Phaedrus Myth
as a Rhetorical Paradigm, 336
regards the Phaedrus Myth as an
allegory, 386, 339
Three Ways, the, Ballad of Thomas the
Rhymer referred to for, 131
the three parts of Dante’s 7). C. corre-
spond to, 132
Tides of Atlantic Ocean, origin of, in
Phaedo, 94
Timaeus, the only work of Plato which
Dante knew directly, 102
reputation of, in antiquity and the
middle age, 210
one of a Trilogy, 259, 299
with Pliny, 160
referred to for Dante's knowledge of
Macrobius, 361
on Dante's knowledge of the version of
the Timaeus made by Chaleidius,
468
Tozer, Mr., quoted for Dante's know-
ledge of Somnium Seipionia, 361
on Par. xxxi., 79 Η,, 867
Transcendental Feeling, production and
regulation of, the end of Poetry,
22, 33
expressed by Daunte, last Canto of Par.,
and V. Δι, Sonnet xxv., 23, 38
Poets quoted to illustrate means em-
ployed for production of, 23-33
means employed by Poetry to produce
the dream-consciousness in which it
arises, 33 ff,
in a nascent form accounts for the
“magic " of certain kinds of Poetry, 36
explained genetically, 39 ff.
two phases of, 41
Imagination the Interpreter of, 42
its relation to Sense and Understanding,
Consciousness aware of “the Good” in,
44; cf. 59
the beginning and end of Metaphysics,
44
Consciousness comes nearest to the
object of Metaphysics, Ultimate
Reality, in, 44
“Transcendental,” as distinguished from
“Empirical” Feeling, 389
Tylor, Prof., on the state of the imagina-
tion among ancient and savage
peoples, 7
Universal, the, of Poetry, 384 ff.
‘Vegetative Part of the Soul,” funda-
mental, and source of that implicit
Faith in the Value of Life on which
Conduct and Science rest, 39
and “ Universal of Poetry,” 386
Vehicles, terrestrial, aerial, and aethereal,
H. More on, 96
aerial, of Soulsin Purgatory, Dante on,
97
Vernon, on Lethe aud Eunoé, 155
Virgil, where does he localise the River
of Lethe ? 155
Visualisation, colour- and form-, power
of, possessed by Plato, Plutarch, and
Dante, 380, 381
Volcanic action, explained in Phaedo, 94
Volquardsen, his view of the δαιμόνιον of
Socrates, 3
Toynbee, Dr., on Dante’s acquaintance | Votive figures and the βίων παραδείγ-
with Claudian, 105
para of the Myth of Er, 153
532
Wallace, W., on Kant’s Ideas of Reason,
quoted, 46-7
THE MYTHS OF PLATO
was a boy”’ quoted to illustrate the
nature of “ poetic effect,” 35
Walt Whitman’s Memories of President | Wordsworth, on relation of Poetry to
Lincoln, quoted for effect produced
similar to that produced by Plato’s
Eschatological Myths, 31 ff.
War, Plato’s view of, 452, 455
Ward, Prof., his Naturalism and Agnos-
ticism referred to, 478
Weismann, Prof., referred to, 434
Westcott, Bishop, on Aeschylus’ view of
the Condition of the Dead, 63
Science, 342
on place of metre in Poetry, 390
Xenophanes, on the immorality of Homer
and Hesiod, 231
Yeats, Mr. W. B., referred to for the idea
of ‘poems spoken to a harp,” 393
on influence of Plato’s Myths through | Zagreus Myth, 239 |
later Platonic schools, 230
on Myth and Allegory, 243
compared with that told by Aristo-
phanes in Symposium, 409 ff.
Wilamowitz - Méllendorff, on Voyage of | Zeller, on the δαιμόνιον of Socrates, ὃ
Odysseus to Hades, as Orphic epi-
sode in Odyssey, 66
Witchcraft, Cudworth’s belief in, 100
Smith’s belief in, 100
H. More’s belief in, 100
Wordsworth, his lines beginning ‘‘ There !
THE
on doctrine of Immortality of the Soul
as held by Plato, 60, 70 ᾿
on allegorisation of Homer by the
Stoics, 233
on Neo-Platonic allegorisation, 242
on Pre-existence and ἀνάμνησις, 343 ff.
END
Printed by R. & R. Crark, Limirep, Zdindurgh.
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