Born in 434 B.C., Plato was about 30, or almost 30, in 404 B.C., when the democracy was overthrown by the aristocrats, who at once (euthus) asked him to join them as something to which he had a claim (hȏs epi prosȇkonta pragmata). Because of his youth (hupo neotȇtos) he thought (ȏiȇthȇn) that they would (gar autous) manage the State so as to bring men out of a bad way of life into a good one (ek tinos adikou biou epi dikaion tropon agontas dioikȇsein dȇ tȇn polin), and so he gave his mind to them very diligently (hȏste autois sphodra proseichon ton noun), to see what they would do (ti praxoien). And seeing (kai horȏn), as he did (dȇpou), that these men (tous andras) in quite a short time (en chronȏi oligȏi) made seem (apodeixantas) the previous constitution [i.e. the democracy] (tȇn emprosthen politeian) something precious as gold (chruson), he became indignant (eduscherana te) and withdrew himself (kai emauton epanȇgagon) from the evils of those days (apo tȏn tote kakȏn). (Plato, Seventh Letter 324d-325a)
Plato’s kai
emauton epanȇgagon apo, translated ‘and withdrew myself
from’, actually says ‘I rose myself (ȇgagon) to (epi) up (ana) from
(apo)’; it thus points to the region above the heavens (ton huperouranion
topon) of the Phaedran Palinode, i.e. to the region of the Platonic Forms, the
region of the truth (to alȇthes, alȇtheia), of being which really is (ousia ontȏs ousa), which is without colour (achrȏmatos) or shape (aschȇmatistos), intangible (anaphȇs), observable only by intellect (monȏi theatȇ nȏi)
(Phaedrus 247c3-8). In the Seventh Letter Plato gives us the
actual circumstance that led to his rising up from the evils of those days: The
Thirty ‘tried to send Socrates (epempon Sȏkratȇ), along with others (meth’ heterȏn),
after one of the citizens (epi tina tȏn politȏn),
to fetch him by force (biai axonta) that he might be put to death (hȏs apothanoumenon); he, however did not obey (ho d’ ouk epeitheto) and
risked the utmost penalties (pan de parekinduneusen pathein) rather than
be a partaker in their unholy deeds (prin anosiȏn autois ergȏn genesthai koinȏnos)’.
This brings us to the Charmides, which Plato must have written before the
Thirty gave Socrates this order, the order which he did not obey.
What leads
me to this dating of the Charmides?
The Charmides
is devoted to the discussion of sȏphrosunȇ,
which, as Liddell & Scott’s Greek-English informs us, is rendered as ‘soundness
of mind’, ‘prudence’, ‘discretion’, ‘sanity in opposition to mania’, ‘self-control’,
but which in the Charmides is discussed as an all-embracing intellectual
virtue, as wisdom. The framework within which it is discussed is practical: Charmides,
a youngster in his early teens, has morning headaches, and his uncle Critias introduces
him to Socrates – who has returned to Athens after taking part in the siege of
Potidaea for three years – as a physician who has a cure.
The dialogue is narrated by Socrates:
“‘And what is it?’ Charmides said (Ti
oun, ȇ d’ hos, estin;). I replied (Kai egȏ eipon) that it was a kind
of leaf (hoti auto men eiȇ phullon ti), which required to be accompanied
by a charm (epȏidȇ de tis epi tȏi pharmakȏi eiȇ), and if a person would
repeat the charm at the same time that he used the cure (hȇn ei men tis
epaidoi hama kai chrȏito autȏi), he would be made whole (pantapasin
hugia poioi to pharmakon); but that without the charm (aneu de tȇs
epȏidȇs) the leaf would be of no avail (ouden ophelos eiȇ tou phullou).”
(155e; in quoting from the Charmides I use Jowett’s translation.)
Socrates went
on to say that he acquired both the leaf and the charm from a Thracian physician
‘who declared that all good and evil originates in the soul, and overflows from
thence to the body and to the whole man (panta gar ephȇ ek tȇs psuchȇs hȏrmȇsthai kai ta kaka kai ta agatha tȏi sȏmati kai panti tȏi anthrȏpȏi),
as if from the head into the eyes (hȏsper ek tȇs kephalȇs epi ta ommata). And, therefore, one must (dein
oun) cure first and foremost the soul (ekeino kai prȏton kai malista therapeuein), if the head and the body are to be well (ei
mellei kai ta tȇs kephalȇs kai ta tou allou sȏmatos kalȏs echein). And the soul is cured (therapeuesthai de tȇn psuchȇn), he said (ephȇ), by certain charms (epȏidais tisin), and these charms are fair words (tas d’ epȏidas tautas tous logous einai tous kalous) by which temperance is implanted in
the souls (ek de tȏn toioutȏn logȏn en tais psuchais sȏphrosunȇn engignesthai). When this is implanted (hȇs engenomenȇs), and present (kai parousȇs),
the health is speedily imparted, not only to the head, but to the whole body (raidion
ȇdȇ einai tȇn hugieian kai tȇi kaphalȇi kai tȏi allȏi sȏmati porizein).” (156e6-157b1).
Critias, when he heard me saying this (Akousas oun mou ho
Kritias taut’ eipontos), said (ephȇ): ‘And I can tell you (legȏ mentoi soi), that Charmides is not only preeminent in beauty among his
equals (hoti Charmidȇs tȏn hȇlikiȏtȏn ou
monon tȇi ideai dokei diapherein), but also in that quality (alla kai autȏi toutȏi) for which, as you say, you have the charm (hou su
phȇis tȇn epȏidȇn echein); and this, as you say, is
temperance (phȇis de sȏphrosunȇs)?’ ‘Yes (Panu ge),’ I said (ȇn d’ egȏ). ‘Then let me tell you (Eu
toinun isthi) that he is the most temperate of human beings (hoti panu
polu dokei sȏphronestatos einai tȏn nuni), and for his age inferior to none in any quality (kai t’alla panta,
eis hoson hȇlikian echei, oudenos cheirȏn ȏn).’ (157c-d).
After thus narrating what Critias said in high praise about
Charmides, Socrates went on to enlarge on Critias’ eulogy by eulogising
Charmides’ progeny: ‘Yes’, I said, ‘Charmides; and indeed I think that you
ought to excel (Kai gar, ȇn d’ egȏ, kai dikaion ȏ
Charmidȇ, diapherein se) others in all good qualities (tȏn
allȏn
pasin tois toioutois); for if I am not mistaken (ou gar oimai) there
is no one present (allon oudena tȏn enthade) who could easily
point out (raidiȏs an echein epideixai) two Athenian houses, whose
union (poiai duo oikiai sunelthousai eis t’auton tȏn
Athȇnesin)
would be likely (ek tȏn eikotȏn) to produce a better or
nobler scion (kalliȏ an kai ameinȏ
gennȇseian) than the two from which you are sprung (ȇ
ex hȏn
su gegonas). There is your father’s house (hȇ te
gar patrȏia humin oikia), which is descended from Critias the
son of Dropidas (hȇ Kritiou tou Dropidou), whose
family has been commemorated in the panegyrical verses of Anacreon, Solon, and
many other poets (kai hupo Anakreontos kai hupo Solȏnos
kai hup’ allȏn pollȏn poiȇtȏn enkekȏmiasmenȇ paradedotai
hȇmin),
as famous for beauty (hȏs diapherousa kallei te) and
virtue (kai aretȇi) and all other high fortune (kai tȇi
allȇi
legomenȇi eudaimoniai): and your mother’s house is equally
distinguished (kai au hȇ pros mȇtros hȏsautȏs)
… Having such ancestors, you ought to be first in all things, and, sweet son of
Glaucon, your outward form is no dishonour to any of them (ta men oun horȏmena
tȇs
ideas, ȏ phile pai Glaukȏnos, dokeis moi oudena tȏn pro sou en oudeni hupobebȇkenai) If
to beauty you add temperance (ei de dȇ kai pros sȏphrosunȇn),
and if in other respects you are what Critias declares you to be (kai pros
t’alla kata ton toude logon hikanȏs pephukas) … And here lies the
point (echei d’oun houtȏs); for if, as he declares, you
have the gift of temperance already (ei men soi ȇdȇ
parestin, hȏs legei Kritias hode sȏphrosunȇ),
and are temperate enough (kai ei sȏphrȏn
hikanȏs),
in that case you have no need of any charms (ouden eti soi edei epȏidȏn),
and I may as well let you have the cure of the head at once (all’ auto soi
an ȇdȇ
doteon eiȇ to tȇs kephalȇs pharmakon); but if you
have not yet acquired this quality (ei d’eti toutȏn
epideȇs
einai dokeis), I must use the charm (epaisteon) before I give you the
medicine (pro tȇs tou pharmakou doseȏs). Please, therefore, to
inform me (autos oun moi eipe) whether you admit the truth of what
Critias has been saying (poteron homologeis tȏide kai phȇis);
– have you or have you not this quality of temperance (hikanȏs ȇdȇ sȏphrosunȇs metechein
ȇ
endeȇs
einai)?’
Charmides blushed (Aneruthriasas oun ho Charmides),
and the blush heightened his beauty (prȏton men eti kalliȏn
ephanȇ),
for modesty is becoming in youth (kai gar to aischuntȇlon
autou tȇi hȇlikiai eprepen); he then said very
ingeniously (epeita ouk agennȏs apekrinato), that he really
could not at once answer, either yes (hoti ou raidion eiȇ
en tȏi
paronti outh’ homologein), or no, to the question which I had asked (oute
exarnȏi
einai ta erȏtȏmena): ‘For if (ean men gar)’
said he (ȇ
d’ hos), ‘I affirm that I am not temperate (mȇ
phȏ
einai sȏphrȏn), that would be a strange thing for
me to say of myself (hama gar atopon auton kath’ heautou toiauta legein),
and also I should give a lie to Critias (hama gar Kritian tonde pseudȇ
epideixȏ), and many others (kai allous pollous) who
think that I am temperate (hois dokȏ einai sȏphrȏn),
as he tells you (hȏs ho toutou logos): but, on the other
hand, if I say that I am, I shall have to praise myself (ean d’ au phȏ
kai emauton epainȏ), which would be ill manners (isȏs
epachthes phaneitai); and therefore I do not know (hȏste
ouk echȏ) how to answer you (hoti soi apokrinȏmai).’
I said to him (Kai egȏ eipon hoti): ‘That is a
natural reply (moi eikota phainȇi legein), Charmides (ȏ
Charmidȇ), and I think (kai moi dokei)’ I said (ȇn
d’ egȏ),
‘that you and I ought together to enquire (koinȇi
an eiȇ
skepteon) whether you have this quality about which I am asking or not (eite
kektȇsai
eite mȇ ho punthanomai); and then you will not be compelled
to say what you do not like (hina mȇte su anankazȇi
legein ha mȇ boulei); neither shall I be a rash practitioner of
medicine (mȇt’ au egȏ askeptȏs epi tȇn
iatrikȇn trepȏmai): therefore, if you please (ei
oun soi philon), I will share the enquiry with you (ethelȏ
skopein meta sou), but I will not press you if you would rather not (ei
de mȇ,
ean).’ ‘There is nothing which I would like better (Alla pantȏn
malista philon),’ he said (ephȇ); ‘and as far as I am
concerned (hȏste toutou ge heneka) you may proceed in the way which
you think best (hopȇi autos oiei beltion skepsasthai, tautȇi
skopei).’
‘In this way (Tȇide) then (toinun),’
I said (ephȇn egȏ), ‘it seems (dokei) to me
(moi), the investigation is the best (beltistȇ
einai hȇ skepsis) about (peri) this (autou). For
it is clear (dȇlon gar) that (hoti) if temperance abides in
you (ei soi parestin sȏphrosunȇ), you have an opinion
about her (echeis ti peri autȇs doxazein). Tell me (eipe),’
I said (ȇn
d’ egȏ),
‘what (ti) you say (phȇis) is temperance (einai sȏphrosunȇn)
in your opinion (kata tȇn sȇn doxan),’
And he (Kai hos) at first (to men prȏton)
hesitated (ȏknei te), and was very unwilling to answer (kai ou
panu ȇthelen
apokrinesthai): then he said (epeita mentoi eipen) that he thought (hoti
hoi dokoi) temperance was (sȏphrosunȇ
einai) doing things orderly (to kosmiȏs panta prattein) and quietly
(kai hȇsuchȇi): in the streets (en te tais
hodois) to walk (badizein), and talk (kai dialegesthai),
and everything else (kai ta alla panta) thus (hȏsautȏs)
to do (poiein). ‘And (kai) it seems to me (moi
dokei)’, he said (ephȇ), ‘all in all (sullȇbdȇn),
it is a quietness (hȇsuchiotȇs
tis einai), what you ask (ho erȏtais).’
‘Are you (Ar’ oun),’ I said (ȇn
d’ egȏ),
‘right saying this (eu legeis)?’. ‘For tell me (eipe gar moi), isn’t
temperance of the class of the noble and good (ou tȏn
kalȏn
mentoi hȇ sȏphrosunȇ estin)?’ ‘Very much so (Panu
ge)’ ‘But which is best (Poteron oun kalliston) at the
wring-master’s (en grammatistou), the same letters (ta homoia
grammata) to write (graphein) quickly (tachu) or (ȇ)
slowly (hȇsuchȇi)?’ ‘Quickly (Tachu).’ ‘And
what (Ti d’), to read (anagignȏskein) quickly (tacheȏs)
or (ȇ)
slowly (bradeȏs)?’ ‘Quickly (Tacheȏs).’ (159c5) … ‘Then all things
(Oukoun panta)’, I said (ȇn egȏ), ‘Charmides (ȏ
Charmidȇ), both those (kai ta) that consider the soul (peri
tȇn
psuchȇn),
and those (kai ta) that consider the body (peri to sȏma),
those of swiftness (ta tou tachous) and of quickness (kai tȇs
oxutȇtos)
are clearly more admirable (kalliȏ phainetai) than those of slowness
(ȇ
ta tȇs
bradutȇtos te) and of quietness (kai hȇsuchiotȇtos)?’
‘Clearly they are (Kinduneuei),’ he said (ephȇ).
(160b6)
In his next attempt Charmides defines temperance (sȏphrosunȇ) as
modesty (aidȏs, 160e4-5). Socrates asks Charmides whether he
still views temperance as something admirable and good, something that makes men
good. When Charmides says that he does, Socrates quotes against him Homer: ‘Modesty
is not good for a needy man (aidȏs ouk agathȇ
kechrȇmenȏi andri pareinai, Odyssea
XVII, 347).’
If temperance (sȏphrosunȇ) is
always (de ge) good (agathon) since (eiper) she makes good
(agathous poiei) those in whom she is present (hois an parȇi), definition
of temperance as modesty cannot stand, for modesty is good for some, not good
for others, as Socrates argues, and Charmides admits: ‘All that, Socrates,
appears to me to be (Alla mȇn houtȏ ge dokei moi echein) as you say (hȏs
su legeis, 161a10), but consider this (tode de skepsai), what you
think of it (ti soi dokei einai) in relation to temperance (peri
sȏphrosunȇs) – for I just now remember (arti gar anemnȇsthȇn) what I
have heard from someone (ho ȇdȇ tou ȇkousa legontos), “that temperance is
doing one’s own business” (hoti sȏphrosunȇ an eiȇ to ta heautou prattein).
Consider then (skopei oun), whether he appears to you to be right who says
that (touto ei orthȏs soi dokei legein ho legȏn)?’
And I ‘You monster (O miare),’ I said (ephȇn), ‘You
heard this from this here Kritias (Kritiou toude akȇkoas auto), or from another
of the wise men (ȇ allou tou tȏn sophȏn). (161b4-c1)
***
I shall leave the discussion of temperance, which follows,
for my next entry, and turn to the last section of the dialogue, in which Socrates
ends his discussion with Critias bewailing his inability to investigate anything
worthwhile concerning temperance (hoti oden chrȇston
peri sȏphrosunȇs skopȏ, 175a 10-11}, and that, worst
of all, after doing their best to obtain a definition of temperance, temperance
thus defined appeared to them to be useless (touto hȇmin
anȏpheles
on apephaine, 175d4-5).
Socrates says: ‘As far as I am concerned (to men oun emon),
I lament it less (kai hȇtton aganaktȏ),
but concerning you (huper de sou), Charmides (ȏ Charmidȇ),
I lament it very much (panu aganaktȏ), if you (ei su), having
such beauty (toioutos ȏn tȇn idean) and furthermore (kai
pros toutȏi), being most temperate of soul (tȇn
psuchȇn
sȏphronestatos),
should have no profit or good in life from this temperance (mȇden
onȇsȇi
apo tautȇs tȇs sȏphrosunȇs).
And still more I lament (eti de mallon aganaktȏ) about the charm (huper
tȇs
epȏidȇs)
which I learned from the Thracian (hȇn para tou Thraikos emathon),
if for the sake of a thing which is nothing worth (ei mȇdenos
axiou pragmatos ousan) I was learning it with much effort (autȇn
meta pollȇs spoudȇs emanthanon). This then (taut’
oun) I really do not think (panu men ouk oiomai) to be like this (houtȏs
echein), but I think that I am a bad enquierer (all’ eme phaulon einai zȇtȇtȇn);
for temperance (epei tȇn ge sȏphrosunȇn)
is a great good (mega ti agathon einai), and if you have it (kai
eiper ge echeis auto), you are a blessed man (makarion einai se). But
see (all’ hora) if you have it (ei echeis te) and have no need of
the charm (kai mȇden deȇi tȇs epȏidȇs);
for if you do (ei gar echeis), I would rather advise you (mallon an
egȏge
soi sumbouleusaimi) to regard me simply as a fool (eme men lȇron
hȇgeisthai
einai) who is never able to reason out anything (kai adunaton logȏi
hotioun zȇtein); but that you yourself (seauton de), the
more wise and temperate you are (hosȏper sȏphronesteros
ei), the happier you are (tosoutȏi einai kai eudaimonesteron).’
(175d5-176a5)
Charmides said (kai ho Charmidȇs):
‘But, dear God (Alla ma Di’)’, said he (ȇ d’ hos), I myself (egȏge),
Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates), do not know (ouk
oida) whether I have (out’ ei echȏ) or do not have it (out’
ei mȇ
echȏ);
for how could I know (pȏs gar an eideiȇn),
that which even you and Critias are (ho ge mȇd’ humeis) unable to
discover (hoioi te este exeurein) what it is (hoti pot’ estin), as
you say (hȏs phȇis su)? But I do not really
believe you (egȏ mentoi ou panu soi peithomai), and I think that I (kai
emauton), Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates), am very much in
need of the charm (panu oimai deisthai tȇs epȏidȇs),
and as far as I am concerned (kai to g’ emon), nothing stands in the way
(ouden kȏluei) of my being charmed by you (epaidesthai hupo
sou) daily (hosai hȇmerai), until you say (heȏs
an phȇis
su) that I have had enough (hikanȏs echein).’ (176a6-b4)
‘Very good (Eien)’ said Critias (ephȇ
ho Kritias), ‘Charmides (ȏ Charmidȇ), if you do this (ȇn
drais touto) I shall have a proof (emoig’ estai touto tekmȇrion)
of your temperance (hoti sȏphroneis), that is if you allow
yourself to be charmed by Socrates (ȇn epaidein parechȇis
Sȏkratei),
and never desert him (kai mȇ apoleipȇi toutou) at all (mȇte
mega mȇte smikron).’
‘You may depend on my following and not deserting him (Hȏs
akolouthȇsontos kai mȇ apoleipomenou),’ said Charmides (ephȇ)
‘for I should be very wrong (deina gar an poioiȇn)
not to obey you (ei mȇ peithoimȇn
soi) who are my guardian (tȏi epitropȏi),
and if I didn’t do (kai mȇ poioiȇn) what you command me to
do (ha keleueis).’
‘And I do command you,’ he said (Alla mȇn,
ephȇ,
keleȏ egȏge).
‘Then I will do as you say (Poiȇsȏ
toinun),’ said Charmides (ephȇ), ‘and begin this very
day (apo tautȇsi tȇs hȇmeras arxamenos).’ (176b5-c4)
‘You sirs (Houtoi),’ I said (ȇn
d’ egȏ),
‘what are you conspiring about (ti bouleuesthon poiein)?’
‘We are not conspiring (Ouden)’, said Charmides (ephȇ
ho Charmidȇs), ‘we have conspired already (alla bebouleumetha).’
‘Are you about to use violence (Biasȇi
ara),’ said I (ȇn d’ egȏ), ‘without even going through the
forms of justice (kai oud’ anakrisin moi dȏseis)?’
‘Yes, I shall use violence (Hȏs
biasomenou),’ he replied (ephȇ), ‘since Critias here (epeidȇper
hode ge) orders me (epitattei); and you had better consider well (pros
tauta su au bouleuou hoti poiȇseis).’
‘But the time for consideration had passed,’ I said (All’
oudemia, ephȇn egȏ, leipetai boulȇ),
‘when you are intent on doing something (soi gar epicheirounti prattein
hotioun), and are taking recourse to violence (kai biazomenȏi),
no man will be able to resist you (oudeis hoios t’ estai
enantiousthai anthrȏpȏn).’
‘Do not you resist me then,’ he said (Mȇ
toinun, ȇ d’ hos, mȇde su enantiou).
‘I will not resist you then,’ I replied (Ou toinun, ȇn
d’ egȏ,
enantiȏsomai).
With Socrates’ words Ou toinun, ȇn
d’ egȏ,
enantiȏsomai (‘I will not resist you then,’ I replied) the
dialog ends.
***
How could Plato have written the Charmides, as he
did, after the Thirty had ordered Socrates and four other Athenians to go to
Salamis, arrest Leon the Salaminian, and bring him to death; the four did as they
were commanded, but Socrates went home (see Epistle VII, 324e-325a, Apology
32c4-32d7)?
No comments:
Post a Comment