Thursday, June 20, 2019

6 Isocrates’ Against the Sophists and Plato’s Euthydemus


When Socrates ended his narrative, Crito said to him: ‘I may appear ridiculous in venturing to advise you (geloion men moi dokei einai to nouthetein se), but still (homȏs de), what I was told (ha d’ ȇkouon), I want to tell you (ethelȏ soi apangeilai). Of those who were dispersing from your group (tȏn aph’ humȏn apiontȏn), you may as well know (isth’ hoti), one came to me as I was walking up and down (proselthȏn tis moi peripatounti), a man of very high opinion of his wisdom (anȇr oiomenos panu einai sophos), one of those (toutȏn tis) who are formidably good at speeches for the lawcourts (tȏn peri tous logous tous eis ta dikastȇria deinȏn). “Crito (Ō Kritȏn),” he said (ephȇ), “are you not listening to these wise men (ouden akroai tȏnde tȏn sophȏn)?” “No, indeed (Ou ma ton Dia),” I said (ȇn d’ egȏ); “I could not get within hearing of them (ou gar hoios t’ ȇ prosstas katakouein) – there was such a crowd (hupo tou ochlou).” “Well (Kai mȇn), he said, “it was worth listening to (axion g’ ȇn akousai).” “Why (Ti de;)?” I asked. “To have heard (Hina ȇkousas) men debating (andrȏn dialegomenȏn) who have at present the greatest wisdom (hoi nun sophȏtatoi eisi) of those devoted to such discussions (tȏn peri tous toioutous logous).” And I said (K’agȏ eipon) “How did they strike you (Ti oun ephainonto soi;)?” “How else (Ti de allo),” he said (ȇ d’ hos), “than as the sort of nonsense one can always hear from such people (ȇ hoiaper aei an tis tȏn toioutȏn akousai lȇrountȏn), when they devote themselves pointlessly to pointless matters (kai peri oudenos axiȏn anaxian spoudȇn poioumenȏn);” these were almost his exact words (houtȏsi gar pȏs kai eipen tois onomasin). (304d2-e6)


Crito emphasizes the closing words of the unnamed critic – kai peri oudenos axiȏn // anaxian spoudȇn poioumenȏn – for they represent Isocrates’ style. Isocrates’ criticism of Socrates and of philosophers thus precedes Socrates’ criticism of him, which is to follow, as indeed Isocrates’ criticism of Plato and other contemporary philosophers in Against the Sophists preceded Plato’s criticism of him in the Euthydemus. Moreover, the jingle reported by Crito recalls an Isocratean jingle coming from Hippias’ mouth in the Hippias Major: eulaboumenos men phthonon tȏn zȏntȏn // phoboumenos de mȇnin tȏn teteleutȇkotȏn (‘I’m trying to avoid the envy of the living, and the wrath of the dead I’m fearing’, 282a6-8).

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But why should Plato want to link Isocrates to the Hippias Major? To get the answer to this question, we must begin with the Phaedrus, where Socrates’ second speech on love culminated with the assertion that if the lover and his beloved live a well ordered life, devoted to philosophy, ‘their days on earth will be blessed with happiness and concord’ (makarion men kai homonoȇtikon ton enthade bion diagousin, 256a8-b1). Socrates then ends the speech by a prayer to Eros: ‘… turn Lysias to philosophy, as his brother Polemarchus has been turned to it (Lusian epi philosophian de, hȏsper h’adelphos autou Polemarchos tetraptai, trepson), so that his lover here [i.e. Phaedrus] (hina kai ho erastȇs hode autou) may no longer waver between the two choices (mȇketi epamphoterizȇi), as now he does (kathaper nun), but live for Love in singleness of purpose with the aid of philosophic discourse (all’ haplȏs pros Erȏta meta philosophȏn logȏn ton bion poiȇtai, 257b2-6).

Next we must turn to Xenophon’s Hellenica: ‘They [i.e. the Thirty tyrants] resolved (edoxe d’ autois), in order to get money to pay their guardsmen (hopȏs echoien kai tois phrourois chrȇmata didonai), that each of their number should seize one of the aliens residing in the city (tȏn metoikȏn hena hekaston labein), and put them to death (kai autous men apokteinai) and confiscate their property (ta de chrȇmata autȏn aposȇmȇnasthai, II.iii.21)

Polemarchos was the richest of the resident aliens. Eratosthenes, one of the Thirty, arrested him, and he was ordered to drink hemlock without a trial, as we learn from Lysias’ Against Eratothenes 16-17. This cast a shadow on Plato’s Phaedrus; for Solon’s dictum, that no one can be considered happy ‘before he ends his life well’ (prin teleutȇsai kalȏs ton aiȏna, Herodotus I.32,15), must have been strongly invoked by the fate of Polemarchus, especially when viewed against the background of the Phaedrus. In the Hippias Major Plato shielded his dialogue by transforming Solon’s dictum into Hippias’ third attempt at defining ‘the beautiful itself’: ‘Listen, then (Akoue dȇ). I assure you that if any objection is raised against what I have to say (pros gar touto isthi, ean tis echȇi hoti anteipȇi), you may count me a complete ignoramus (phanai eme mȇd’ hotioun epaïein) … My view is (Legȏ toinun) everlastingly (aei) and universally (kai panti) applicable everywhere (kai pantachou): the finest accomplishment is for a wealthy, healthy man (kalliston einai andri, ploutounti, hugiainonti), who has gained respect among the Greeks (timȏmenȏi hupo tȏn Hellȇnȏn) and attained old age (aphikomenȏi eis gȇras), and has given his parents fine funerals on their deaths (tous hautou goneas teleutȇsantas kalȏs peristeilanti), to be given by his own children a grand and fine burial (hupo tȏn hautou ekgonȏn kalȏs kai megaloprepȏs taphȇnai) .’ (291d9-e2, translation R. Waterfield)

As I am reading these lines, Lysias’ Against Eratosthenes stands in front of my mind: ‘And when he was being brought away dead from the prison (Kai epeidȇ apephereto ek tou desmȏtȇriou tethneȏs), although we had three houses amongst us (triȏn hȇmin oikiȏn ousȏn), they did not permit his funeral to be conducted from any of them (ex oudemias eiasan exenechthȇnai), but they hired a small hut in which to lay him out (alla kleision misthȏsamenoi prouthento auton). We had plenty of cloaks (kai pollȏn ontȏn himatiȏn), yet they refused our request for one for the funeral (aitousin ouden edosan eis tȇn taphȇn); but our friends gave either a cloak (alla tȏn philȏn ho men himation), or a pillow (ho de proskephalaion), or whatever each had to spare, for his internment (ho de ho ti hekastos etuchen edȏken eis tȇn taphȇn autou).’ (18, tr. W.R.M. Lamb)

Plato’s gesturing at Isocrates through the mask of Hippias suggests that Isocrates was one of those who contemned Plato’s Phaedrus for maintaining that a man living an orderly life and devoting himself to philosophy will live his days on earth in happiness, and for linking this prediction to Polemarchus. Indeed, Isocrates had a special ground for being aggrieved by it, for it cast a shadow over Socrates’ prophecy concerning him in the Phaedrus: ‘Isocrates is still young, Phaedrus (Neos eti, ȏ Phaidre, Isokratȇs), but I don’t mind telling you the future I prophecy for him (ho mentoi manteuomai kat’ autou, legein ethelȏ). It seems to me that his natural powers give him a superiority over anything that Lysias has achieved in literature (Dokei moi ameinȏn einai ȇ kata tous peri Lusian einai logous ta tȇs phuseȏs), and also that in point of character he is of nobler composition (eti te ȇthei gennikȏterȏi kekrasthai); hence it would not surprise me (hȏste ouden an genoito thaumaston) if with advancing years (proïousȇs tȇs hȇlikias) he made all his literary predecessors look like very small fry; that is, supposing him to persist in the actual type of writing in which he engages at present (ei peri autous te tous logous, hois nun epicheirei, pleon ȇ paidȏn dienenkoi tȏn pȏpote hapsamenȏn logȏn); still more so (eti te), if he should become dissatisfied with such work (ei autȏi mȇ apochrȇsai tauta), and a sublime impulse lead him to do greater things (epi meizȏ de tis auton agoi hormȇ theiotera). For that mind of his, Phaedrus, contains an innate tincture of philosophy (phusei gar, ȏ phile, enesti tis philosophia tȇi tou andros dianoiai).’ (278e10-279b1, tr. R. Hackforth)

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Crito continues: ‘And I said “But surely, philosophy is a charming thing (Kai egȏ, Alla menoti, ephȇn, charien ge ti pragma estin hȇ philosophia).” “Charming?” said he (Poion, ephȇ, charien). “My blessed man (ȏ makarie), it is worthless (oudenos men oun axion); and if you had ben present (alla kai ei nun paregenou), I think you would have been ashamed (panu an se oimai aischunthȇnai) of your friend (huper tou seautou hetairou) – his conduct was so very strange (houtȏs ȇn atopos) in placing himself at the mercy of men who care not what they say (ethelȏn heauton parechein anthrȏpois hois ouden melei hoti an legȏsin), and fasten upon every word (pantos de rȇmatos antechontai). And these (kai houtoi), as I was just saying (hoper arti elegon), are among the leading lights nowadays (en tois kratistois eisi tȏn nun). But the truth is (alla gar), Crito (ȏ Kritȏn), that this pursuit itself (to pragma auto) and the men (kai hoi anthrȏpoi) who spend their time on it (hoi epi tȏi pragmati diatribontes) are inept (phauloi eisin) and utterly ridiculous (kai katagelastoi).” He was wrong, in my opinion, to censure the pursuit, and so is anyone else who does so, but I think he was right to criticize being prepared to have a discussion with such men in front of many people.’ (304e6-305b3)

Socrates: ‘O Crito (Ō Kritȏn), such men are marvellous (thaumasioi hoi toioutoi andres), but I don’t yet know (atar oupȏ oida) what I’m going to say (hoti mellȏ erein). To which category does the man belong (poterȏn ȇn) who approached you (ho proselthȏn soi) and criticized philosophy (kai memphomenos tȇn philosophian;)? Is he one of those (poteron tȏn) that are formidable at fighting (agȏnisasthai deinȏn) in the lawcourts (en tois dikastȇriois), an orator (rȇtȏr tis), or an instructor of orators (ȇ tȏn tous toioutous eispempontȏn), who makes the speeches (poiȇtȇs tȏn logȏn) with which the orators do their fighting (hois hoi rȇtores agȏnizontai;)?’ (305b4-9)

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At 304e the identity of the critic appeared to be quite clear when he embroidered his words with an Isocratean jingle, which Crito emphasized: ‘these were almost his exact words’. How did it happen that Socrates became unsure to which category he belongs? Critic’s censuring philosophy – in response to Crito’s ‘But surely, philosophy is a charming thing’ – cast the critic’s identity in doubt, for in Against the Sophists Isocrates does not censure philosophy as such; he criticizes the contemporary philosophers for bringing philosophy in disrepute: ‘Vaunting their powers with utter disregard of the truth (hoi tolmȏntes lian aperiskeptȏs alanzoneuesthai) have created a situation (pepoiȇkasin) in which those who choose a life of careless indolence appear to have made a better choice (hȏste dokein ameinon bouleuesthai tous raithumein hairoumenous) than those who devote their time to philosophy (tȏn peri tȇn philosophian diatribontȏn, 1).’

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Crito: ‘He’s certainly no orator at all (Hȇkista nȇ ton Dia rȇtȏr); in fact, I don’t think he’s ever come before the court (oude oimai pȏpot’ auton epi dikastȇrion anabebȇkenai). But he is reputed to understand the business (all’ epaïein auton phasi peri tou pragmatos), by Jove (nȇ ton Dia), and to be formidable (kai deinon einai), and to compose formidable speeches (kai deinous logous suntithenai, 305c1-4).’

(Watterfields comments appositely: ‘Thus he falls foul of the Socratic criticism of Section I [289d-290a]: he cannot put his speeches to use.’)

Socrates: ‘Now I understand (Ȇdȇ manthanȏ). About these (peri toutȏn) I myself (kai autos) was now on the point of speaking (nundȇ emellon legein, 305c5-6).’ – Socrates clearly refers to the Isocratean jingle at 304e with Crito’s ‘these were almost his exact words’. Plato carefully constructs the dialogue, so as to make it clear to the reader that Socrates’ forthcoming criticism is directed at Isocrates’ Against the Sophists.

Socrates continues: ‘They are the ones (houtoi gar eisi men), Crito (ȏ Kritȏn), whom Prodicus described (hous ephȇ Prodikos) as on the border-ground between philosophers and politicians (methoria philosophou te andros kai politikou). They think that they are (oiontai d’ einai) the wisest of all men (pantȏn sophȏtatoi anthrȏpȏn), and that on top of their being the wisest they are thought to be so (pros de tȏi einai kai dokein) by very many people (panu para pollois); so that the only impediment to this acclaim being universal constitute those (hȏste para pasin eudokimein empodȏn sphisin einai oudenas allous) men who are around philosophy (ȇ tous peri philosophian anthrȏpous). And they think (hȇgountai oun) that if they engineer a reputation of worthlessness for these men (ean toutous eis doxan katastȇsȏsin mȇdenos dokein axious einai), no one will dispute their title to the palm of wisdom (anamphisbȇtȇtȏs ȇdȇ para pasin ta nikȇtȇria eis doxan oisesthai sophias peri). For they think that they are really the wisest (einai men gar tȇi alȇtheiai sphas sophȏtatous), but when they get entangled in conversation (en de tois idiois logois hotan apolȇphthȏsin), they are cut short by people around Euthydemus (hupo tȏn amphi Euthudȇmon kolouesthai). (305c6-d7)

Much of what Socrates said about ‘these men’ so far can be seen as based on the Euthydemus itself, that is on the eristic performance of Euthydemus and Dionysodorus and the critic’s reflection on it reported by Crito. But the opening remark ‘they are on the border-ground between philosophers and politicians’, and the remark that ‘they think that if they engineer a reputation of worthlessness for these men, no one will dispute their title to the palm of wisdom’, transcend the Euthydemus. Socrates thus points to Isocrates’ Against the Sophists, the first 8 paragraphs of which are devoted to Isocrates’ criticism of contemporary teachers of philosophy, and paragraphs 9 and 10 to his criticism of ‘those who profess to teach political discourse' (tois tous politikous logous hupischnoumenois, 9).

Socrates closes his verdict on ‘these men’ by enlarging upon his opening remark: ‘They think they are very wise (sophoi de hȇgountai panu) – quite naturally (eikotȏs), for they think they have a moderate amount of philosophy (metriȏs men gar philosophias echein), and a moderate amount of political wisdom (metriȏs de politikȏn), and there is reason in what they say (panu ex eikotos logou) – for they say that they have as much of both as is right (metechein gar amphoterȏn hoson edei) and so they keep out of the way of all risks (ektos de ontes kindunȏn) and conflicts (kai agȏnȏn) and reap the fruits of their wisdom (karpousthai tȇn sophian).’ (305d7-e2)

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Isocrates in Against the Sophists ends his own program with the words: ‘Now as for the sophists who have lately sprung up (Hoi men oun arti tȏn sophistȏn anaphuomenoi) and have very recently embraced these pretensions (kai neȏsti prospeptȏkotes tais alazoneiais), even though they flourish at the moment (ei kai nun pleonazousin), they will all, I am sure, come round to this position (eu oid’ hoti pantes epi tautȇn katenechthȇsontai tȇn hupothesin, 19) … those who desire to follow the precepts of this philosophy (tous boulomenous peitharchein tois hupo tȇs philosophias tautȇs prostattomenois) may, if they will, be helped more speedily towards the honesty of character than towards the felicity in oratory (polu an thatton pros epieikeian ȇ pros rȇtoreian ȏphelȇseien). And let no one suppose (kai mȇdeis oiesthȏ) that I claim (me legein) that justice can be taught (hȏs esti dikaiosunȇ didakton); for in a word (holȏs men gar), I hold that there does not exist an art of the kind (oudemian toiautȇn einai technȇn) which can implant sobriety and justice in depraved natures (hȇtis tois kakȏs pephukosi pros aretȇn sȏphrosunȇn te kai dikaiosunȇn empoiȇseien). Nevertheless (ou mȇn alla), I do think that the study of political discourse can help more than any other thing to stimulate and form such qualities of character (sumparakeleusasthai ge kai sunaskȇsai malist’ an oimai tȇn tȏn logȏn tȏn politikȏn epimeleian’. (21)

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Crito: ‘And do you think there’s any sense in these thoughts of theirs, Socrates (Ti oun; dokousi soi ti, ȏ Sȏkrates, legein;)? I mean, their argument definitely has a certain plausibility (Ou gar toi alla ho ge logos echei tina euprepeian tȏn andrȏn).’ – Socrates: ‘Yes, that’s right, Crito – plausibility rather than truth (Kai gar echei ontȏs, ȏ Kritȏn, euprepeian mallon ȇ alȇtheian) … if philosophy and statesmanship are both good (ei men oun hȇ philosophia agathon estin kai hȇ politikȇ praxis), but for different purposes (pros allo de hekatera), and they (houtoi d’), participating in both (amphoterȏn metechontes), lie in between them (toutȏn en mesȏi eisin), then they are talking nonsense (ouden legousin), for they are worse than either (amphoterȏn gar eisi phauloteroi) … they actually come in third (kai tritoi ontes tȇi alȇtheiai), but want to be thought first (zȇtousi prȏtoi dokein einai). However, this desire of theirs is excusable (sungignȏskein oun autois chrȇ tȇs epithumias) and nothing to get indignant about (kai mȇ chalepainein). But we must see them as they really are (hȇgeisthai mentoi toioutous einai hoioi eisin). For every man ought to be appreciated (panta gar andra chrȇ agapan) who says anything which is at all like wisdom (hostis kai hotioun legei echomenon phronȇseȏs pragma), manfully pursues it (kai andreiȏs epexiȏn), and works hard at it (diaponeitai).’ (305e3-306d1)

With the words ‘manfully pursues it (kai andreiȏs epexiȏn), and works hard at it (diaponeitai)’ Plato echoes what Isocrates says his educational program requires: ‘These things require much study (tauta de pollȇs epimeleias deisthai) and are the task of a manful soul (kai psuchȇs andrikȇs einai, 17)’ 

Monday, June 10, 2019

5 Isocrates’ Against the Sophists and Plato’s Euthydemus



In the third post on this theme I discussed Cleinias’ reference to the geometricians, astronomers, and mathematicians who deliver ‘things that are‘ (ta onta) they discover to the dialecticians to make use of them, ‘since they themselves do not know how to use them’. I mentioned on that occasion Myles Burnyeat’s seminar on the Euthydemus and suggested that it was this Cleinias’ passage that led Myles to his dating of the Euthydemus after the Republic. Now we come to the second such passage.

At 300d Ctesippus, the lover of Cleinias, scored a point against Dionysodorus. Cleinias was delighted and laughed, so Socrates said to him: ‘Why do you laugh (Ti gelais), Cleinias (ȏ Kleinia), at such solemn and beautiful things (epi spoudaiois houtȏ pragmasin kai kalois;)?’ – Dionysodorus: ‘Have you, Socrates, ever seen anything beautiful (Su gar ȇdȇ ti pȏpot’ eides, ȏ Sȏkrates, kalon pragma)?’ – Socrates: ‘Yes (Egȏge), I have seen many beautiful things (kai polla ge).’ – Dionysodorus: ‘Were they other than the beautiful (Ara hetera onta tou kalou), or the same as the beautiful (ȇ t’auta tȏi kalȏi;)?’ – Socrates: ‘Now I was in a great quandary (K’agȏ en panti egenomȇn), for I did not know what to do (hupo aporias), and I thought (kai hȇgoumȇn) that I was rightly served (dikaia peponthenai) for having opened my mouth (hoti egryxa) …’ (300e1-301a3)

Dionysodorus’ two questions – ‘Have you, Socrates, ever seen anything beautiful? Were they other than the beautiful, or the same as the beautiful?’ – suggest that at the time Plato wrote the dialogue, the Forms, and ‘the beautiful itself’ in particular, considered as distinct from and in contrast to beautiful things (persons, facies, bodies), were widely discussed in philosophic circles. Since Myles could not contemplate the ancient dating of the Phaedrus – in which Plato’s mind is focussed on ‘the beautiful itself’, and which as such provides the key to the Euthydemus – his only way to understanding the present passage was by dating the dialogue after the Republic.
Socrates’ ‘Now I was in a great quandary, for I did not know what to do, and I thought that I was rightly served for having opened my mouth’ points to the passage in the Hippias Major, with which the discussion on the beautiful itself was initiated in that dialogue: ‘Quite lately, my noble friend, when I was condemning as ugly some things in certain compositions (en logois tisi), and praising others as beautiful (kala), somebody threw me into confusion by interrogating me in a most offensive manner, rather to this effect: “You, Socrates, pray how do you know what things are beautiful (kala) and what are ugly (aischra)? Come now, can you tell me what the beautiful is (ti esti to kalon;)?” In my incompetence I was confounded, and could find no proper answer to give him.’ (286c5-d2). But while in the Hippias Major the questions ‘somebody’ (Socrates’ critical self, ‘the son of Sophroniscus’ 298b11) asked Socrates, put him in a quandary into which he fell deeper and deeper – at the end of the dialogue he says: ‘he [i.e. his critical questioner] asks me whether I am not ashamed of my audacity in talking about a beautiful way of life, when questioning makes it evident (phanerȏs exelenchomenos) that concerning the beautiful I do not even know what it is (peri tou kalou hoti oud’ auto touto hoti pote estin oida). “And yet,” he [i.e. his critical self] goes on, “how can you know whose speech is beautiful or the reverse – and this applies to any action whatsoever – when you have no knowledge of beauty (to kalon agnoȏn)? And so long as you are what you are, do you think it is better for you to live rather than be dead’ (oiei soi kreitton einai zȇn mallon ȇ tethnanai;)?”’ (304d5-e3) – in the Euthydemus he emerged from the quandary by pointing to the Forms.

Socrates continued: ‘… but all the same (homȏs de), I replied that they [i.e. many beautiful things] are different from the beauty itself (hetera ephȇn autou ge tou kalou), but that each of them has some beauty present with it (parestin mentoi hekastȏi autȏn kallos ti).’ – Dionysodorus: ‘So if there’s a cow present with you (Ean oun paragenȇtai soi bous), are you a cow (bous ei), and because I am now present with you (kai hoti nun egȏ soi pareimi), are you Dionysodorus (Dionusodȏros ei;)? – Socrates: ‘God forbid (Euphȇmei touto ge)!’ – Dionysodorus: ‘But in what way (Alla tina tropon), when one thing is present with another (heterou heterȏi paragenomenou), will one thing be another (to heteron heteron an eiȇ;)?’ – Socrates: ‘Is that your impasse (Ara touto aporeis;)?’ – Dionysodorus: ‘For how can I be not in an impasse (Pȏs gar ouk aporȏ), I and all other people (kai egȏ kai hoi alloi hapantes anthrȏpoi), about the non-existent (ho mȇ esti)?’ (301a3-b4)

Declaring ‘the beautiful itself’ to be non-existent,  Dionysodorus expressed the view of Isocrates, for whom ‘the beautiful itself’ and the other ‘beings that truly are’ (ta onta ontȏs) – such as justice, its very self (autȇ dikaiosunȇ), and temperance/self-control (sȏphrosunȇ), which in the Phaedrus are known by ‘knowledge which is in what really is’ (tȇn en tȏi ho estin on ontȏs epistȇmȇn ousan, 247d-e) – were non-existent. If one does not accept the ancient dating of the Phaedrus, the only possibility to read Dionysodorus’ attack without distorting the text is by dating the Euthydemus after the Republic. But the Euthydemus cannot be dated after the Republic, for the ideal state stands on the idea of unity of philosophy and politics, whereas in the Euthydemus they are set apart as two separate disciplines.

Burnyeat’s seminar, in which he attempted to date the Euthydemus after the Republic, took place in the early eighties. The Euthydemus was published among Plato’s Early Socratic dialogues in 1987 (in Penguin Classics), which indicates that Burnyeat’s dating had been rejected. But since the ancient dating of the Phaedrus could not be even discussed, let alone accepted, the only way to deal with the given passage was to distort it. Waterfield writes in the introduction to it:

‘Many commentators read into this section a background of Plato’s theory of forms, according to which fineness [to kalon] is a form with an existence independent of any particulars that might be fine [kala]. There is no suggestion of this in the passage. (Op. cit. p. 366)

Let us therefore see again the introductory exchange between Dionysodorus and Socrates. Ctesippus scored a point against Dionysodorus; Cleinias was delighted and laughed. Socrates wanted to put some balm on Dionysodorus’ pain and said to Cleinias: ‘Why do you laugh at such solemn and beautiful things (epi spoudaiois houtȏ pragmasin kai kalois;)?’ Dionysodorus decided to heal his wound by attacking Socrates: ‘Have you, Socrates, ever seen anything beautiful (Su gar ȇdȇ ti pȏpot’ eides, ȏ Sȏkrates, kalon pragma)?’ – Socrates: ‘Yes (Egȏge), I have seen many beautiful things (kai polla ge).’ – Dionysodorus: ‘Were they other than the beautiful (Ara hetera onta tou kalou), or the same as the beautiful (ȇ t’auta tȏi kalȏi;)?’ – Socrates: ‘Now I was in a great quandary (K’agȏ en panti egenomȇn), for I did not know what to do (hupo aporias), and I thought (kai hȇgoumȇn) that I was rightly served (dikaia peponthenai) for having opened my mouth (hoti egryxa) …’ (300e1-301a3)

Socrates’ getting ‘in a great quandary’ emphasizes the importance of the distinction between ‘the beautiful’ and many things that are beautiful. His words ‘I did not know what to do, and I thought that I was rightly served for having opened my mouth …’, viewed in connection with Dionysodorus’ two questions, indicate that Plato supposed that his readers, and Isocrates in particular, were well acquainted with the Hippias Major.

Waterfield continues: ‘we may be on the ground of Socrates’ search for universals as objects of definition, but we need not suppose even this.’

We are not ‘on the ground of Socrates’ search for universals as objects of definition’; there is no indication of any such search in the Euthydemus.

Socrates continued: ‘… but all the same, I replied that they [i.e. many beautiful things] are different from the beautiful itself [Waterfields ‘fineness itself’], but that each of them has some beauty present with it (parestin mentoi hekastȏi autȏn kallos ti, 301a3-4)).’

Waterfield remarked: ‘The metaphor of presence was perfectly acceptable even in non-philosophic Greek: ‘Fear is present to them’ is periphrastic for ‘They are afraid’. We are simply seeing two Greeks using their language, one to produce confusion, the other to try to defend common sense.’

Waterfield does not give the Greek for ‘Fear is present to them’, and I cannot think of the place he refers to. But he could have referred to Aristophanes’ paresti chairein (Ploutos 638’) which says literally ‘it is present to rejoice’, as ‘a periphrasis’ for ‘we can rejoice’. ‘The metaphor of presence as being perfectly acceptable even in non-philosophic Greek’ sheds light on Socrates’ metaphysical use of ‘the presence’: ‘the presence of the beautiful with beautiful things’ seen as the cause of their being beautiful. But to dismiss on this account Socrates’ words, and his following exchange with Dionysodorus, as ‘two Greeks using their language’ is a hermeneutic travesty.

Let us see the exchange. Dionysodorus reposted: ‘So if there’s a cow present with you (Ean oun paragenȇtai soi bous), are you a cow (bous ei), and because I am now present with you (kai hoti nun egȏ soi pareimi), are you Dionysodorus (Dionusodȏros ei;)? – Socrates: ‘God forbid (Euphȇmei touto ge)!’ – Dionysodorus: ‘But in what way (Alla tina tropon), when one thing is present with another (heterou heterȏi paragenomenou), will one thing be another (to heteron heteron an eiȇ;)?’

Clearly, although Socrates’ use of paresti was rooted in non-philosophic Greek, it was a bold step, which Dionysodorus ridicules accordingly. When Socrates discussed ‘the beautiful’ in its relation to beautiful things in the Hippias Major, he asked for a definition of ‘the beautiful’ instead of simply pointing to its presence with beautiful things. He asked Hippias: ‘Aren’t all beautiful things beautiful because of the beautiful (Ara ta kala panta tȏi kalȏi esti kala;)? … Tell me (Eipe dȇ), what is this (ti esti touto), the beautiful (to kalon;)?’ What he arrived at as a definition was each time something different form ‘the beautiful’; that’s why he couldn’t but get into a deeper and deeper quandary.

Waterfield continues: ‘It is Dionysodorus who first mentions the abstract entity ‘fineness’ [to kalon], not Socrates, so we should not suppose that this is a Platonic form.’

On the ancient dating the Phaedrus with its focus on ‘the beautiful itself’ (auto to kallos) was in the hands of readers for more than ten years when Plato wrote the Euthydemus. Waterfield’s remark has any sense only as an argument against someone who might contemplate the Euthydemus as the first dialogue in which Plato introduced the Forms. But that would completely disregard the fact that Dionysodorus ridicules the very notion of ‘the beautiful’ as an entity existing as separate from beautiful things.

Waterfield continues: ‘Socrates uses the phrase “fineness itself” at 301a to pinpoint or isolate fineness, not in any metaphysically significant sense.’

Dionysodorus’ intention to get Socrates into a quandary with his question concerning ‘the beautiful’, and Socrates’ seeing himself in a quandary, indicates that ‘the beautiful itself’, (auto to kalon, Waterfields ‘the fineness itself’), is here used by Socrates in its pregnant, metaphysical sense.

Dionysodorus: ‘But in what way, when one thing is present with another, will one thing be another?’ – Socrates: ‘Is that your impasse (Ara touto aporeis;)?’ – Dionusodorus: ‘For how can I be not in an impasse (Pȏs gar ouk aporȏ), I and all other people (kai egȏ kai hoi alloi hapantes anthrȏpoi), about the non-existent (ho mȇ esti)?’ (301a3-b4)

Waterfield translates this passage as follows. Dionysodorus: ‘But how can A’s presence to B turn B into A, when they are different?’ – Socrates: ‘Do you find that puzzling?’ – Dionysodorus: ‘Of course I do. Not only I but everyone else finds impossibilities puzzling.’

Waterfield translated Dionysodorus’ Pȏs gar ouk aporȏ ‘Of course I do [find that puzzling]’. To translate aporȏ as ‘I find that puzzling’ is fine in many contexts, but not here. Here it must be taken in its original meaning ‘there is not a way for me to go on’. ‘Impasse’ only partially expresses this meaning, for it suggests an unsurmountable obstacle that bars any further progress, which is wrong in the given context. Dionysodorus says that he of course cannot find any road in that which is non-existent (ho mȇ esti); he does not view ‘the beautiful itself’ as one of the puzzling impossibilities, he simply maintains that it does not exist.

The Euthydemus is narrated by Socrates. For simplicity, I have reproduced chosen passages from the dialogue as directly spoken by the interlocutors. For the most part it works well, but in doing so I cut out an important part of Socrates’ sentence at 301b1-2, which stands in full as follows (in Waterfield’s translation): ‘”Do you find that puzzling?” I asked – my desire for their cleverness was now leading me to try to copy the two visitors.’ Waterfield comments: ‘’Why does Socrates cast himself as a sophist at 301b? Chiefly he means no more than that he is taking over the sophist’s role as questioner. It is also noticeable, however, that his solution to Dionysodorus’ dilemma really does no more than reassert the original proposition that fineness is both different from fine things and yet may have some relation to them. So perhaps Socrates casts himself as a sophist because he is about to obfuscate the issue to some extent and avoid the lengthy metaphysical discussion that a proper response would entail.’

Waterfield’s claim that Socrates’ solution to Dionysodorus’ dilemma does no more than ‘reassert the original proposition that fineness is both different from fine things and yet may have some relation to them’ misrepresents ‘Socrates’ solution’. For Socrates’ claim that ‘many beautiful things ‘are different from the beautiful itself (hetera autou ge tou kalou [Waterfields ‘fineness itself’]), but that each of them has some beauty present with it (parestin mentoi hekastȏi autȏn kallos ti),’ clearly suggests that many beautiful things have some beauty present to them thanks to the presence of ‘the beautiful itself’.

‘Socrates’ solution’ recalls the discussion that Socrates held with his friends on his last day in prison. Socrates: ‘It seems to me (phainetai gar moi) that if anything else is beautiful (ei ti estin allo kalon) besides the beautiful itself (plȇn auto to kalon) … nothing else makes it beautiful (ouk allo ti poiei auto kalon) except the beautiful itself, whether by its presence or communion (ȇ hȇ ekeinou tou kalou eite parousia eite koinȏnia, Phaedo 100c4-d6, transl. David Gallop).’

I do not mean that ‘Socrates’ solution’ in the Euthydemus recalls the Phaedo; I mean that it recalls the discussion Socrates held with his friends on his last day. As Plato informs us, there were a number of friends present with Socrates on the occasion (Phaedo 59b-c); their philosophic discussion on that day was undoubtedly widely discussed.

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I believe that Plato wrote the Phaedo in Sicily during his year-long first stay with Dionysius II, and that he read it to his disciples after returning to Athens.  Diogenes says that ‘when Plato read the dialogue On the Soul [i.e. the Phaedo] Aristotle alone stayed to the end (touton monon parameinai Platȏni anagignȏskonti ton Peri psuchȇs); the rest of the audience got up and went away (tous d’allous anastȇnai pantas, III.37)’. The incident reminds me of a story in Herodotus that when Phrynichus staged ‘The capture of Miletus’ (Milȇtou halȏsis), the Athenians, deeply pained by the capture of Miletus by the Persians, fell into tears watching it, fined the author a thousand drachmas, and prohibited it ever to be produced again (VI.21). 
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Waterfield continues, and ends his introductory comment, as follows: ‘There is a certain similarity between Dionysodorus’ assault at the notion of presence and an argument put into the mouth of Parmenides against Plato’s theory of forms at Pramenides 130e-131c, as Sprague (1967) points out. But this should not induce us to think that Platonic forms are relevant to this passage (or that Plato saw the arguments of Parmenides as less than damaging to his theory): Plato probably realized later that this argument, in origin a sophism, could be turned against his theory.’

The awareness that there are certain similarities (not just one similarity) between Parmenides’ arguments in the Parmenides and Dionysodorus’ arguments in the Euthydemus acquires its proper significance if we realize that in the former Parmenides puts forward arguments against young Socrates’ theory of forms, not against Plato’s theory of Forms (see ‘Plato’s defence of the Forms in the Parmenides’ on my website), and that Dionysodorus in the latter attacks Plato’s theory of Forms. In my view, Socrates’ defence of the Forms in the Euthydemus recalls the remark with which Parmenides concluded his arguments against Socrates’ forms in the Parmenides. I do not mean that it recalls the Parmenides; I mean that it recalls the actual discussion between the old Parmenides and the very young Socrates. At the beginning of the dialogue Plato indicates that the discussion was well known in the philosophic circles and much talked about. Cephalus with his friends came from Clazomenae in Asia Minor to listen to the report of that discussion; for his friends, deeply interested in philosophy (mala philosophoi), had heard that Adeimantus’ and Glaucon’s (i.e. Plato’s) half-brother (Antiphon) learned the arguments from Pythodorus, who was present at the discussion, and remembers them well. Adeimantus confirmed that what they had heard was true: ‘when Antiphon was young he used to rehearse them diligently (meirakoin gar ȏn autous eu mala diemeletȇsen, 126a6-7)

Parmenides closes his arguments against the young Socrates’ forms as follows: ‘These difficulties (Tauta mentoi) and many more still in addition (kai eti alla pros toutois panu polla) necessarily hold of the characters (anankaion echein ta eidȇ), if these characteristics of things that are exist (ei eisin hautai hai ideai tȏn ontȏn), and one is to distinguish each character as something by itself (kai horieitai tis auto ti hekaston eidos). The result is that the hearer is perplexed (hȏste aporein te ton akouonta) and contends (kai amphisbȇtein) that they do not exist (hȏs oute esti tauta), and that even if their existence is conceded (ei te hoti malista eiȇ), they are necessarily unknowable by human nature (pollȇ anankȇ auta einai tȇi anthrȏpinȇi phusei agnȏsta). In saying this (kai tauta legonta), he thinks he is saying something significant (dokein te ti legein) and (kai), as we just remarked (ho arti elegomen), it’s astonishingly hard to convince him to the contrary (thaumastȏs hȏs dusanapeiston einai). Only a man of considerable natural gifts (kia andros panu men euphuous) will be able to understand (tou dunȇsomenou mathein) that there is a certain kind of each thing (hȏs esti ti genos hekastou), a nature and reality alone by itself (kai ousia autȇ kath’ hautȇn), and it will take a man more remarkable still (eti de thaumastoterou) to discover it (tou heurȇsontos) and be able to instruct someone else (kai allon dunȇsomenou didaxai) who has examined all these difficulties with sufficient care (tauta panta hikanȏs dieukrinȇsamenon).’ – Socrates: ‘I agree with you (Sunchȏrȏ soi). You are saying very much what I think too (panu gar moi kata noun legeis).’ – Parmenides: ‘Nevertheless (Alla mentoi), if in light of all the present difficulties and others like them, Socrates, one will not allow that there are characters of things that are (ei ge tis dȇ, ȏ Sȏkrates, au mȇ easei eidȇ tȏn ontȏn einai, eis panta ta nundȇ kai alla toiauta apoblepsas), and refuses to distinguish as something a character of each single thing (mȇde ti horieitai eidos henos hekastou), he even will not have anything to which to turn his mind (oude hopoi trepsei tȇn dianoian hexei), since he will not allow (mȇ eȏn) that there is a characteristic, ever the same, of each of the things that are (idean tȏn ontȏn hekastou tȇn autȇn aei einai); and so (kai houtȏs) he will utterly destroy the power and significance of thought and discourse (tȇn tou dialegesthai dunamin pantapasi diaphtherei). (134e9-135c2, translation R.E. Allen)

When Dionusodȏrus declared ‘the beautiful itself’ and other Forms (301a8-9) to be non-existent (ho mȇ esti, 301b4), Socrates asked: ‘What do you mean (Ti legeis), Dionysodorus (ȏ Dionusodȏre)? Is not the beautiful beautiful (ou to kalon kalon estin), and the hideous hideous (kai to aischron aischron;)?’ – Dionysodorus: ‘If it so appears to me.’ – Socrates: ‘And does it appear so to you (Oukoun dokei;)?’ – Dionusodorus: ‘Very much so (Panu ge).’ – Socrates: ‘And is not, as well, the same the same (Oukoun kai to t’auton t’auton), and the other other (kai to heteron heteron;)? For surely the other is not the same (ou gar dȇpou to ge heteron t’auton). I should think that even a child will hardly deny the other to be other (all’ oud an paida ȏimȇn touto aporȇsai, hȏs ou to heteron heteron estin). But Dionysodorus (All’, ȏ Dionusodȏre), you must have let this fall aside on purpose (touto men hekȏn parȇkas), for in other respects (epei ta alla), you seem to me (moi dokeite), like craftsmen who accomplish all their tasks (hȏsper hoi dȇmiourgoi hois hekasta prosȇkei apergazesthai), to have worked out the art of discussion beautifully (kai humeis to dialegesthai pankalȏs apergazesthai).’ (301b5-c5)

The eristic performance of Dionysodorus and Euthydemus should be read in light of Parmenides’ ‘if one will not allow that there are Forms of things that are (ei ge tis dȇ mȇ easei eidȇ tȏn ontȏn einai), he will utterly destroy the power and significance of thought and discourse (tȇn tou dialegesthai dunamin pantapasi diaphtherei).