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Analogy between Lysis and Charmides. Richness of dramatic incident in both. Youthful beauty
The Lysis, as well as the Charmidês, is a dialogue recounted by Sokrates himself, describing both incidents and a conversation in a crowded palaestra; wherein not merely bodily exercises were habitually practised, but debate was carried on and intellectual instruction given by a Sophist named Mikkus, companion and admirer of Sokrates. There is a lively dramatic commencement, introducing Sokrates into the palæstra, and detailing the preparation and scenic arrangements, before the real discussion opens. It is the day of the Hermæa, or festival of Hermes, celebrated by sacrifice and its accompanying banquets among the frequenters of gymnasia.
Scenery and personages of the Lysis
Lysis, like Charmides, is an Athenian youth, of conspricuous beauty, modesty, and promise. His father Demokrates represents an ancient family of the Æxonian Deme in Attica, and is said to be descended from Zeus and the daughter of the Archêgetês or Heroic Founder of that Deme. The family moreover are so wealthy, that they have gained many victories at the Pythian, Isthmian, and Nemean games, both with horses and with chariots and four. Menexenus, companion of Lysis, is somewhat older, and is his affectionate friend. The persons who invite Sokrates into the palæstra, and give occasion to the debate, are Ktesippus and Hippothalês: both of them adults, yet in the vigour of age. Hippothalês is the Erastes of Lysis, passionately attached to him.
Theagês—has been declared spurious by some modern critics—grounds for such opinion not sufficient
This is among the dialogues declared by Schleiermacher, Ast, Stallbaum, and various other modern critics, to be spurious and unworthy of Plato: the production of one who was not merely an imitator, but a bad and silly imitator. Socher on the other hand defends the dialogue against them, reckoning it as a juvenile production of Plato. The arguments which are adduced to prove its spuriousness appear to me altogether insufficient. It has some features of dissimilarity with that which we read in other dialogues—these the above-mentioned critics call un-platonic: it has other features of similarity—these they call bad imitation by a falsarius: lastly, it is inferior, as a performance, to the best of the Platonic dialogues. But I am prepared to expect (and have even the authority of Schleiermacher for expecting) that some dialogues will be inferior to others. I also reckon with certainty, that between two dialogues, both genuine, there will be points of similarity as well as points of dissimilarity. Lastly, the critics find marks of a bad, recent, un-platonic style: but Dionysius of Halikarnassus—a judge at least equally competent upon such a matter—found no such marks. He expressly cites the dialogue as the work of Plato, and explains the peculiar phraseology assigned to Demodokus by remarking, that the latter is presented as a person of rural habits and occupations.
In these two dialogues, Plato sets before us two farther specimens of that error and confusion which beset the enquirer during his search after “reasoned truth.” Sokrates forces upon the attention of a companion two of the most familiar words of the market-place, to see whether a clear explanation of their meaning can be obtained.
Hipparchus—Question——What is the definition of Lover of Gain? He is one who thinks it right to gain from things worth nothing. Sokrates cross-examines upon this explanation. No man expects to gain from things which he knows to be worth nothing: in this sense, no man is a lover of gain
In the dialogue called Hipparchus, the debate turns on the definition of τὸ ϕιλοκερδὲς or ὁ ϕιλοκερδής—the love of gain or the lover of gain. Sokrates asks his companion to define the word. The companion replies—He is one who thinks it right to gain from things worth nothing. Does he do this (asks Sokrates) knowing that the things are worth nothing? or not knowing? If the latter, he is simply igno rant. He knows it perfectly well (is the reply). He is cunning and wicked; and it is because he cannot resist the temptation of gam, that he has the impudence to make profit by such things, though well aware that they are worth nothing. Sokr.—Suppose a husbandman, knowing that the plant which he is tending is worthless—and yet thinking that he ought to gain by it: does not that correspond to your description of the lover of gain? Comp.—The lover of gain, Sokrates, thinks that he ought to gain from every thing. Sokr.—Do not answer in that reckless manner, as if you had been wronged by any one; but answer with attention. man is the person cognizant of the value of plants.
Persons and subject of the dialogue Kratylus—Sokrates has no formed opinion, but is only a Searcher with the others
The dialogue entitled Kratylus presents numerous difficulties to the commentators: who differ greatly in their manner of explaining, First, What is its main or leading purpose? Next, How much of it is intended as serious reasoning, how much as mere caricature or parody, for the purpose of exposing and reducing to absurdity the doctrines of opponents? Lastly, who, if any, are the opponents thus intended to be ridiculed?
The subject proposed for discussion is, the rectitude or inherent propriety of names. How far is there any inherent propriety of names. How far is there any natural adaptation, or special fitness, of each name to the thing named? Two disputants are introduced who invoke Sokrates as umpire. Hermogenes asserts the negative of the question; contending that each name is destitute of natural significance, and acquires its meaning only from the mutual agreement and habitual usage of society. Kratylus on the contrary maintains the doctrine that each name has a natural rectitude or fitness for its own significant function:—that there is an inherent bond of connection, a fundamental analogy or resemblance between each name and the thing signified. Sokrates carries on the first part of the dialogue with Hermogenes, the last part with Kratylus. He declares more than once, that the subject is one on which he is ignorant, and has formed no conclusion: he professes only to prosecute the search for a good conclusion, conjointly with his two companions.
These two dialogues are both of them announced by Plato as forming sequel to the Theætêtus. The beginning of the of the Sophistês fits on to the end of the Theætêtus: and the Politikus is even presented as a second part or continuation of the Sophistês. In all the three, the same interlocutors are partially maintained. Thus Sokrates, Theodôras, and Thesetêtus are present in all three: and Theætêtus makes the responses, not only in the dialogue which bears his name, but also in the Sophistês. Both in the Sophistês and Politikus, however, Sokrates himself descends from the part of principal speaker to that of listener: it is he, indeed, who by his qnestion elicits the exposition, but he makes no comment either during the progress of it or at the close. In both the dialogues, the leading and expository— function is confided to a new personage introduced by Theodôras:—a stranger not named, but announced as coming from Elea—the friend and companion of Parmenides and Zeno. Perhaps (remarks Sokrates) your friend may, without your knowledge, be a God under human shape; as Homer tells us that the Gods often go about, in the company of virtuous men, to inspect the good and bad behaviour of mankind. Perhaps your friend may be a sort of cross-examining God, coming to test and expose our feebleness in argument. No (replies Theodôrus) that is not his character. He is less given to dispute than his companions. He is far from being a God, but he is a divine man: for I call all true philosophers divine.
In this dialogue, as in the Parmenides immediately preceding, Plato dwells upon the intellectual operations of mind: introducing the ethical and emotional only in a partial and subordinate way. The main question canvassed is, What is Knowledge—Cognition—Science? After a long debate, turning the question over in many distinct points of view, and examining three or four different answers to the question—all these answers are successively rejected, and the problem remains unsolved.
The two persons who converse with Sokrates are, Theôdoras, an elderly man, eminent as a geometrician, astronomer, &c., and teaching those sciences—and Thesetetus, a young man of great merit and still greater promise ; acute, intelligent, and inquisitive—high-principled and courageous in the field, yet gentle and conciliatory to all: lastly, resembling Sokrates in physiognomy and in the flatness of his nose. The dialogue is supposed to have taken place during the last weeks of the life of Sokrates, when his legal appearance as defendant is required to answer the indictment of Melêtus, already entered in the official record. The dialogue is here read aloud to Eukleides of Megara and his fellow-citizen Terpsion, by a slave of Eukleides: this last person had recorded it in writing from narrative previously made to him by Sokrates. It is prefaced by a short discourse between Eukleides and Terpsion, intended to attract our sympathy and admiration towards the youthful Theætêtus.
I have examined in the preceding sections both that which the Sophistês and Politikus present in common—(viz. a lesson, as well as a partial theory, of the logical processes called Definition and Division)—and that which the Sophistês presents apart from the Politikus. I now advert to two matters which we find in the Politikus, but not in the Sophistês. Both of them will be found to illustrate the Platonic mode of philosophising.
Views of Plato on mensuration. Objects measured against each other. Objects compared with a common standard. In each Art, the purpose to be attained is the standard
I. Plato assumes, that there will be critics who blame the two dialogues as too long and circuitous; excessive in respect of prolixity. In replying to those objectors, he enquires, What is meant by long or short—excessive or deficient—great or little? Such expressions denote mensuration or comparison. But there are two varieties of mensuration. We may measure two objects one against the other: the first will be called great or greater, in relation to the second—the second will be called little or less in relation to the first. But we may also proceed in a different way. We may assume some third object as a standard, and then measure both the two against it: declaring the first to be great, greater, excessive, &c., because it exceeds the standard—and the second to be little, less, deficient, &c., because it falls short of the standard. Here then are two judgments or estimations altogether different from each other, and yet both denoted by the same words great and little: two distinct essences (in Platonic phrase) of great and little, or of greatness and littleness.
The preceding Chapter has described, in concise abstract, that splendid moument of Plato's genius, which passes under the name of the Πολιεία Republic. It is undoubtedly the grandest of all his compositions; including in itself all his different points of excellence. In the first Book, we have a subtle specimen of negative Dialectic,—of the Sokratic cross-examination or Elenchus. In the second Book, we find two examples of continuous or Ciceronian pleading (like that ascribed to Protagoras in the dialogue called by his name), which are surpassed by nothing in ancient literature, for acuteness and ability in the statement of a case. Next, we are introduced to Plato's most sublime effort of constructive ingenuity, in putting together both the individual man and the collective City: together with more information (imperfect as it is even here) about his Dialectic or Philosophy, than any other dialogue furnishes. The ninth Book exhibits his attempts to make good his own thesis against the case set forth in his own antecedent counterpleadings. The last Book concludes with a highly poetical mythe, embodying a Νεκυΐα shaped after his own fancy,—and the outline of cosmical agencies afterwards developed, though with many differences, in the Timæus. The brilliancy of the Republic will appear all the more conspicuous, when we come to compare it with Plato's two posterior compositions: we come to compare it with Plato's two posterior compositions: with the Pythagorean mysticism and theology of the Timæus—or with the severe and dictatorial solemnity of the Treatise De Legibus.
The dialogue called Kriton is, in one point of view, a second part or sequel—in another point of view, an antipurpose of thesis or corrective—of the Platonic Apology. For that reason, I notice it immediately after the Apology: though I do not venture to affirm confidently that it was composed immediately after: it may possibly have been later, as I believe the Phsedon also to have been later.
Subject of the dialogue—interlocutors
The Kriton describes a conversation between Sokrates and his friend Kriton in the prison, after condemnation, and two days before the cup of hemlock was administered. Kriton entreats and urges Sokrates (as the sympathising friends had probably done frequently during the thirty days of imprisonment) to make his escape from the prison, informing him that arrangements have already been made for enabling him to escape with ease and safety, and that money as well as good recommendations will be provided, so that he may dwell comfortably either in Thessaly, or wherever else he pleases. Sokrates ought not, in justice to his children and his friends, to refuse the opportunity offered, and thus to throw away his life. Should he do so, it will appear to every one as if his friends had shamefully failed in their duty, when intervention on their part might easily have saved him. He might have avoided the trial altogether: even when on trial, he might easily have escaped the capital sentence. Here is now a third opportunity of rescue, which if he declines, it will turn this grave and painful affair into mockery, as if he and his friends were impotent simpletons.
The main subject of this short dialogue is—What is philosophy? ἡ ϕιλοσοϕία—τὸ ϕιλοσοϕεῖν. How are we to explain or define it? Wliat is its province and purport?
Erastæ—subject and persons of the dialogue—dramatic introduction—interesting youths in the palæstra
Instead of the simple, naked, self-introducing, conversation, which we read in the Menon, Hipparchus, Minos, &c., Sokrates recounts a scene and colloquy, which occurred when he went into the house of Dionvsius the grammatist or school-master, frequented by many elegant and high-born youths as pupils. Two of these youths were engaged in animated debate upon some geometrical or astronomical problem, in the presence of various spectators; and especially of two young men, rivals for the affection of one of them. Of these rivals, the one is a person devoted to music, letters, discourse, philosophy:—the other hates and despises these pursuits, devoting himself to gymnastic exercise, and bent on acquiring the maximum of athletic force. It is much the same contrast as that between the brothers Amphion and Zethus in the Antiopê of Euripides—which is beautifully employed as an illustration by Plato in the Gorgias.
Two rival Erastæ—one of them literary, devoted to philosophy—the other gymnastic, hating philosophy
As soon as Sokrates begins his interrogatories, the two youths relinquish their geometrical talk, and turn to him as attentive listeners: their approach affects his emotions hardly less than those of the Erastes. He first enquires from the athletic Erastes, What is it that these two youths are so intently engaged upon? It must surely be something very fine, to judge by the eagerness which they display? How do you mean fine (replies the athlete)?
On looking through the collection of works enumerated in variety and the Thrasyllean Canon, the first impression made upon us respecting the author is, that which is expressed in the epithets applied to him by Cicero—” varius et multiplex et copiosus.” Such epithets bring before us the variety in Plato's points of view and methods of handling—the multiplicity of the topics discussed—the abundance of the premisses and illustrations suggested: comparison being taken with other literary productions of the same age. It is scarcely possible to find any one predicate truly applicable to all of Plato's works. Every predicate is probably true in regard to some:—none in regard to all.
Plato both sceptical and dogmatical
Several critics of antiquity considered Plato as essentially a sceptic—that is, a Searcher or Enquirer, not reaching any assured or proved result. They denied to him the character of a dogmatist: they maintained that he neither established nor enforced any affirmative doctrines. This latter statement is carried too far. Plato is sceptical in some dialogues, dogmatical in others. And the catalogue of Thrasyllus shows that the sceptical dialogues (Dialogues of Search or Investigation) are more numerous than the dogmatical (Dialogues of Exposition)—as they are also, speaking generally, more animated and interesting.
The dialogue called Protagoras presents a larger assemblage of varied and celebrated characters, with more of dramatic winding, and more frequent breaks and andperson- resumptions m the conversation, than any dialogue of Plato—not excepting even Symposion and Republic. It exhibits Sokrates in controversy with the celebrated Sophist Protagoras, in the presence of a distinguished society, most of whom take occasional part in the dialogue. This controversy is preceded by a striking conversation between Sokrates and Hippokrates—a youth of distinguished family, eager to profit by the instructions of Protagoras. The two Sophists Prodikus and Hippias, together with Kallias, Kritias, Alkibiades, Eryxiinachus, Phaedrus, Pausanias, Agathon, the two sons of Perikles (Paralus and Xanthippus), Charmides son of Glaukon, Antimoerus of Mende, a promising pupil of Protagoras, who is in training for the profession of a Sophist—these and others are all present at the meeting, which is held in the house of Kallias. Sokrates himself recounts the whole—both his conversation with Hippokrates and that with Protagoras—to a nameless friend.
This dialogue enters upon a larger and more comprehensive ethical theory than anything in the others hitherto noticed. But it contains also a great deal in which we hardly recognise, or at least cannot verify, any distinct purpose, either of search or exposition. Much of it seems to be composed with a literary or poetical view, to enhance the charm or interest of the composition. The personal characteristics of each speaker—the intellectual peculiarities of Prodikus and Hippias—the ardent partisanship of Alkibiades—are brought out as in a real drama.
The Canon of Thrasyllus continued to be generally acknowledged, by the Neo-Platonists, as well as by Ficinus and the succeeding critics after the revival of learning
The Platonic Canon established by Thrasyllus maintained its authority until the close of the last century, in regard to the distinction between what was genuine and spurious. The distribution indeed did not continue to be approved: the Tetralogies were neglected, and the order of the dialogues varied: moreover, doubts were intimated about Kleitophon and Epinomis. But nothing was positively removed from, or positively added to, the total recognised by Thrasyllus. The Neo-Platonists (from the close of the second century B.C., down to the beginning of the sixth century) introduced a new, mystic, and theological interpretation, which often totally changed and falsified Plato's meaning. Their principles of interpretation would have been strange and unintelligible to the rhetors Thrasyllus and Dionysius of Halikarnassus—or to the Platonic philosopher Charmadas, who expounded Plato to Marcus Crassus at Athens. But they still continued to look for Plato in the nine Tetralogies of Thrasyllus, in each and all of them. So also continued Ficinus, who, during the last half of the fifteenth century, did so much to revive in the modern world the study of Plato. He revived along with it the neo-platonic interpretation. The Argumenta, prefixed to the different dialogues by Ficinus, are remarkable, as showing what an ingenious student, interpreting in that spirit, discovered in them.
But the scholars of the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries, speaking generally—though not neglecting wherever they could find it, a more literal interpretation of the Platonic text, correctly presented and improved. The next great edition of the works of Plato was published by Serranus and Stephens, in the latter portion of the sixteenth century.
Variety of sects and theories—multiplicity of individual authorities is the characteristic of Greek philosophy
The first feeling of any reader accustomed to the astronomy and physics of the present century, on considering Variet of the various theories noticed in the preceding chapter, is a sort of astonishment that such theories should have been ever propounded or accepted as true. Yet there can be no doubt that they represent the best thoughts of sincere, contemplative, and in genious men, furnished with as much knowledge of fact, and as good a method, as was then attainable. The record of what such men have received as scientific truth or probability, in different ages, is instructive in many ways, but in none more than in showing how essentially relative and variable are the conditions of human belief; how unfounded is the assumption of those modern philosophers, who proclaim certain first truths or first principles as universal, intuitive, self-evident; how little any theorist can appreciate á priori the causes of belief in an age materially different from his own, or can lay down maxims as to what must be universally believed or universally disbelieved by all mankind. We shall have farther illustration of this truth as we proceed: here I only note variety of belief, even on the most fundamental points, as being the essential feature of Grecian philosophy even from its outset, long before the age of those who are usually denounced as the active sowers of discord, the Sophists and the professed disputants. Each philosopher followed his own individual reason, departing from traditional or established creeds, and incurring from the believing public more or less of obloquy; but no one among the philosophers acquired marked supremacy over the rest.