Persons of the Dialogue
SOCRATES
HERMOGENES
CRATYLUS
Hermogenes. Suppose that we make
Socrates a party to the argument?
Cratylus. If you please.
Her. I should explain to you,
Socrates, that our friend Cratylus has been
arguing about names; he says that they are
natural and not conventional; not a portion
of the human voice which men agree to use;
but that there is a truth or correctness in
them, which is the same for Hellenes as for
barbarians. Whereupon I ask him, whether his
own name of Cratylus is a true name or not,
and he answers "Yes." And Socrates? "Yes."
Then every man's name, as I tell him, is
that which he is called. To this he replies-
"If all the world were to call you
Hermogenes, that would not be your name."
And when I am anxious to have a further
explanation he is ironical and mysterious,
and seems to imply that he has a notion of
his own about the matter, if he would only
tell, and could entirely convince me, if he
chose to be intelligible. Tell me, Socrates,
what this oracle means; or rather tell me,
if you will be so good, what is your own
view of the truth or correctness of names,
which I would far sooner hear.
Socrates. Son of Hipponicus, there is
an ancient saying, that "hard is the
knowledge of the good." And the knowledge of
names is a great part of knowledge. If I had
not been poor, I might have heard the
fifty-drachma course of the great Prodicus,
which is a complete education in grammar and
language- these are his own words- and then
I should have been at once able to answer
your question about the correctness of
names. But, indeed, I have only heard the
single-drachma course, and therefore, I do
not know the truth about such matters; I
will, however, gladly assist you and
Cratylus in the investigation of them. When
he declares that your name is not really
Hermogenes, I suspect that he is only making
fun of you;- he means to say that you are no
true son of Hermes, because you are always
looking after a fortune and never in luck.
But, as I was saying, there is a good deal
of difficulty in this sort of knowledge, and
therefore we had better leave the question
open until we have heard both sides.
Her. I have often talked over this
matter, both with Cratylus and others, and
cannot convince myself that there is any
principle of correctness in names other than
convention and agreement; any name which you
give, in my opinion, is the right one, and
if you change that and give another, the new
name is as correct as the old- we frequently
change the names of our slaves, and the
newly-imposed name is as good as the old:
for there is no name given to anything by
nature; all is convention and habit of the
users;- such is my view. But if I am
mistaken I shall be happy to hear and learn
of Cratylus, or of any one else.
Soc. I dare say that you be right,
Hermogenes: let us see;- Your meaning is,
that the name of each thing is only that
which anybody agrees to call it?
Her. That is my notion.
Soc. Whether the giver of the name be
an individual or a city?
Her. Yes.
Soc. Well, now, let me take an
instance;- suppose that I call a man a horse
or a horse a man, you mean to say that a man
will be rightly called a horse by me
individually, and rightly called a man by
the rest of the world; and a horse again
would be rightly called a man by me and a
horse by the world:- that is your meaning?
Her. He would, according to my view.
Soc. But how about truth, then? you
would acknowledge that there is in words a
true and a false?
Her. Certainly.
Soc. And there are true and false
propositions?
Her. To be sure.
Soc. And a true proposition says that
which is, and a false proposition says that
which is not?
Her. Yes; what other answer is
possible?
Soc. Then in a proposition there is a
true and false?
Her. Certainly.
Soc. But is a proposition true as a
whole only, and are the parts untrue?
Her. No; the parts are true as well
as the whole.
Soc. Would you say the large parts
and not the smaller ones, or every part?
Her. I should say that every part is
true.
Soc. Is a proposition resolvable into
any part smaller than a name?
Her. No; that is the smallest.
Soc. Then the name is a part of the
true proposition?
Her. Yes.
Soc. Yes, and a true part, as you
say.
Her. Yes.
Soc. And is not the part of a
falsehood also a falsehood?
Her. Yes.
Soc. Then, if propositions may be
true and false, names may be true and false?
Her. So we must infer.
Soc. And the name of anything is that
which any one affirms to be the name?
Her. Yes.
Soc. And will there be so many names
of each thing as everybody says that there
are? and will they be true names at the time
of uttering them?
Her. Yes, Socrates, I can conceive no
correctness of names other than this; you
give one name, and I another; and in
different cities and countries there are
different names for the same things;
Hellenes differ from barbarians in their use
of names, and the several Hellenic tribes
from one another.
Soc. But would you say, Hermogenes,
that the things differ as the names differ?
and are they relative to individuals, as
Protagoras tells us? For he says that man is
the measure of all things, and that things
are to me as they appear to me, and that
they are to you as they appear to you. Do
you agree with him, or would you say that
things have a permanent essence of their
own?
Her. There have been times, Socrates,
when I have been driven in my perplexity to
take refuge with Protagoras; not that I
agree with him at all.
Soc. What! have you ever been driven
to admit that there was no such thing as a
bad man?
Her. No, indeed; but I have often had
reason to think that there are very bad men,
and a good many of them.
Soc. Well, and have you ever found
any very good ones?
Her. Not many.
Soc. Still you have found them?
Her. Yes.
Soc. And would you hold that the very
good were the very wise, and the very evil
very foolish? Would that be your view?
Her. It would.
Soc. But if Protagoras is right, and
the truth is that things are as they appear
to any one, how can some of us be wise and
some of us foolish?
Her. Impossible.
Soc. And if, on the other hand,
wisdom and folly are really distinguishable,
you will allow, I think, that the assertion
of Protagoras can hardly be correct. For if
what appears to each man is true to him, one
man cannot in reality be wiser than another.
Her. He cannot.
Soc. Nor will you be disposed to say
with Euthydemus, that all things equally
belong to all men at the same moment and
always; for neither on his view can there be
some good and other bad, if virtue and vice
are always equally to be attributed to all.
Her. There cannot.
Soc. But if neither is right, and
things are not relative to individuals, and
all things do not equally belong to all at
the same moment and always, they must be
supposed to have their own proper and
permanent essence: they are not in relation
to us, or influenced by us, fluctuating
according to our fancy, but they are
independent, and maintain to their own
essence the relation prescribed by nature.
Her. I think, Socrates, that you have
said the truth.
Soc. Does what I am saying apply only
to the things themselves, or equally to the
actions which proceed from them? Are not
actions also a class of being?
Her. Yes, the actions are real as
well as the things.
Soc. Then the actions also are done
according to their proper nature, and not
according to our opinion of them? In
cutting, for example, we do not cut as we
please, and with any chance instrument; but
we cut with the proper instrument only, and
according to the natural process of cutting;
and the natural process is right and will
succeed, but any other will fail and be of
no use at all.
Her. I should say that the natural
way is the right way.
Soc. Again, in burning, not every way
is the right way; but the right way is the
natural way, and the right instrument the
natural instrument.
Her. True.
Soc. And this holds good of all
actions?
Her. Yes.
Soc. And speech is a kind of action?
Her. True.
Soc. And will a man speak correctly
who speaks as he pleases? Will not the
successful speaker rather be he who speaks
in the natural way of speaking, and as
things ought to be spoken, and with the
natural instrument? Any other mode of
speaking will result in error and failure.
Her. I quite agree with you.
Soc. And is not naming a part of
speaking? for in giving names men speak.
Her. That is true.
Soc. And if speaking is a sort of
action and has a relation to acts, is not
naming also a sort of action?
Her. True.
Soc. And we saw that actions were not
relative to ourselves, but had a special
nature of their own?
Her. Precisely.
Soc. Then the argument would lead us
to infer that names ought to be given
according to a natural process, and with a
proper instrument, and not at our pleasure:
in this and no other way shall we name with
success.
Her. I agree.
Soc. But again, that which has to be
cut has to be cut with something?
Her. Yes.
Soc. And that which has to be woven
or pierced has to be woven or pierced with
something?
Her. Certainly.
Soc. And that which has to be named
has to be named with something?
Her. True.
Soc. What is that with which we
pierce?
Her. An awl.
Soc. And with which we weave?
Her. A shuttle.
Soc. And with which we name?
Her. A name.
Soc. Very good: then a name is an
instrument?
Her. Certainly.
Soc. Suppose that I ask, "What sort
of instrument is a shuttle?" And you answer,
"A weaving instrument."
Her. Well.
Soc. And I ask again, "What do we do
when we weave?"- The answer is, that we
separate or disengage the warp from the
woof.
Her. Very true.
Soc. And may not a similar
description be given of an awl, and of
instruments in general?
Her. To be sure.
Soc. And now suppose that I ask a
similar question about names: will you
answer me? Regarding the name as an
instrument, what do we do when we name?
Her. I cannot say.
Soc. Do we not give information to
one another, and distinguish things
according to their natures?
Her. Certainly we do.
Soc. Then a name is an instrument of
teaching and of distinguishing natures, as
the shuttle is of distinguishing the threads
of the web.
Her. Yes.
Soc. And the shuttle is the
instrument of the weaver?
Her. Assuredly.
Soc. Then the weaver will use the
shuttle well- and well means like a weaver?
and the teacher will use the name well- and
well means like a teacher?
Her. Yes.
Soc. And when the weaver uses the
shuttle, whose work will he be using well?
Her. That of the carpenter.
Soc. And is every man a carpenter, or
the skilled only?
Her. Only the skilled.
Soc. And when the piercer uses the
awl, whose work will he be using well?
Her. That of the smith.
Soc. And is every man a smith, or
only the skilled?
Her. The skilled only.
Soc. And when the teacher uses the
name, whose work will he be using?
Her. There again I am puzzled.
Soc. Cannot you at least say who
gives us the names which we use?
Her. Indeed I cannot.
Soc. Does not the law seem to you to
give us them?
Her. Yes, I suppose so.
Soc. Then the teacher, when he gives
us a name, uses the work of the legislator?
Her. I agree.
Soc. And is every man a legislator,
or the skilled only?
Her. The skilled only.
Soc. Then, Hermogenes, not every man
is able to give a name, but only a maker of
names; and this is the legislator, who of
all skilled artisans in the world is the
rarest.
Her. True.
Soc. And how does the legislator make
names? and to what does he look? Consider
this in the light of the previous instances:
to what does the carpenter look in making
the shuttle? Does he not look to that which
is naturally fitted to act as a shuttle?
Her. Certainly.
Soc. And suppose the shuttle to be
broken in making, will he make another,
looking to the broken one? or will he look
to the form according to which he made the
other?
Her. To the latter, I should imagine.
Soc. Might not that be justly called
the true or ideal shuttle?
Her. I think so.
SOC. And whatever shuttles are
wanted, for the manufacture of garments,
thin or thick, of flaxen, woollen, or other
material, ought all of them to have the true
form of the shuttle; and whatever is the
shuttle best adapted to each kind of work,
that ought to be the form which the maker
produces in each case.
Her. Yes.
Soc. And the same holds of other
instruments: when a man has discovered the
instrument which is naturally adapted to
each work, he must express this natural
form, and not others which he fancies, in
the material, whatever it may be, which he
employs; for example, he ought to know how
to put into iron the forms of awls adapted
by nature to their several uses?
Her. Certainly.
Soc. And how to put into wood forms
of shuttles adapted by nature to their uses?
Her. True.
Soc. For the several forms of
shuttles naturally answer to the several
kinds of webs; and this is true of
instruments in general.
Her. Yes.
Soc. Then, as to names: ought not our
legislator also to know how to put the true
natural names of each thing into sounds and
syllables and to make and give all names
with a view to the ideal name, if he is to
be a namer in any true sense? And we must
remember that different legislators will not
use the same syllables. For neither does
every smith, although he may be making the
same instrument for the same purpose, make
them all of the same iron. The form must be
the same, but the material may vary, and
still the instrument may be equally good of
whatever iron made, whether in Hellas or in
a foreign country;- there is no difference.
Her. Very true.
Soc. And the legislator, whether he
be Hellene or barbarian, is not therefore to
be deemed by you a worse legislator,
provided he gives the true and proper form
of the name in whatever syllables; this or
that country makes no matter.
Her. Quite true.
Soc. But who then is to determine
whether the proper form is given to the
shuttle, whatever sort of wood may be used?
the carpenter who makes, or the weaver who
is to use them?
Her. I should say, he who is to use
them, Socrates.
Soc. And who uses the work of the
lyremaker? Will not he be the man who knows
how to direct what is being done, and who
will know also whether the work is being
well done or not?
Her. Certainly.
Soc. And who is he?
Her. The player of the lyre.
Soc. And who will direct the
shipwright?
Her. The pilot.
Soc. And who will be best able to
direct the legislator in his work, and will
know whether the work is well done, in this
or any other country? Will not the user be
the man?
Her. Yes.
Soc. And this is he who knows how to
ask questions?
Her. Yes.
Soc. And how to answer them?
Her. Yes.
Soc. And him who knows how to ask and
answer you would call a dialectician?
Her. Yes; that would be his name.
Soc. Then the work of the carpenter
is to make a rudder, and the pilot has to
direct him, if the rudder is to be well
made.
Her. True.
Soc. And the work of the legislator
is to give names, and the dialectician must
be his director if the names are to be
rightly given?
Her. That is true.
Soc. Then, Hermogenes, I should say
that this giving of names can be no such
light matter as you fancy, or the work of
light or chance persons; and Cratylus is
right in saying that things have names by
nature, and that not every man is an
artificer of names, but he only who looks to
the name which each thing by nature has, and
is able to express the true forms of things
in letters and syllables.
Her. I cannot answer you, Socrates;
but I find a difficulty in changing my
opinion all in a moment, and I think that I
should be more readily persuaded, if you
would show me what this is which you term
the natural fitness of names.
Soc. My good Hermogenes, I have none
to show. Was I not telling you just now (but
you have forgotten), that I knew nothing,
and proposing to share the enquiry with you?
But now that you and I have talked over the
matter, a step has been gained; for we have
discovered that names have by nature a
truth, and that not every man knows how to
give a thing a name.
Her. Very good.
Soc. And what is the nature of this
truth or correctness of names? That, if you
care to know, is the next question.
Her. Certainly, I care to know.
Soc. Then reflect.
Her. How shall I reflect?
Soc. The true way is to have the
assistance of those who know, and you must
pay them well both in money and in thanks;
these are the Sophists, of whom your
brother, Callias, has- rather dearly- bought
the reputation of wisdom. But you have not
yet come into your inheritance, and
therefore you had better go to him, and beg
and entreat him to tell you what he has
learnt from Protagoras about the fitness of
names.
Her. But how inconsistent should I
be, if, whilst repudiating Protagoras and
his Truth, I were to attach any value to
what he and his book affirm!
Soc. Then if you despise him, you
must learn of Homer and the poets.
Her. And where does Homer say
anything about names, and what does he say?
Soc. He often speaks of them; notably
and nobly in the places where he
distinguishes the different names which Gods
and men give to the same things. Does he not
in these passages make a remarkable
statement about the correctness of names?
For the Gods must clearly be supposed to
call things by their right and natural
names; do you not think so?
Her. Why, of course they call them
rightly, if they call them at all. But to
what are you referring?
Soc. Do you not know what he says
about the river in Troy who had a single
combat with Hephaestus?
Whom the Gods call Xanthus, and men call
Scamander.
Her. I remember.
Soc. Well, and about this river- to
know that he ought to be called Xanthus and
not Scamander- is not that a solemn lesson?
Or about the bird which, as he says,
The Gods call Chalcis, and men Cymindis: to
be taught how much more correct the name
Chalcis is than the name Cymindis- do you
deem that a light matter? Or about Batieia
and Myrina? And there are many other
observations of the same kind in Homer and
other poets. Now, I think that this is
beyond the understanding of you and me; but
the names of Scamandrius and Astyanax, which
he affirms to have been the names of
Hector's son, are more within the range of
human faculties, as I am disposed to think;
and what the poet means by correctness may
be more readily apprehended in that
instance: you will remember I dare say the
lines to which I refer?
Her. I do.
Soc. Let me ask you, then, which did
Homer think the more correct of the names
given to Hector's son- Astyanax or
Scamandrius?
Her. I do not know.
Soc. How would you answer, if you
were asked whether the wise or the unwise
are more likely to give correct names?
Her. I should say the wise, of
course.
Soc. And are the men or the women of
a city, taken as a class, the wiser?
Her. I should say, the men.
Soc. And Homer, as you know, says
that the Trojan men called him Astyanax
(king of the city); but if the men called
him Astyanax, the other name of Scamandrius
could only have been given to him by the
women.
Her. That may be inferred.
Soc. And must not Homer have imagined
the Trojans to be wiser than their wives?
Her. To be sure.
Soc. Then he must have thought
Astyanax to be a more correct name for the
boy than Scamandrius?
Her. Clearly.
Soc. And what is the reason of this?
Let us consider:- does he not himself
suggest a very good reason, when he says,
For he alone defended their city and long
walls? This appears to be a good reason for
calling the son of the saviour king of the
city which his father was saving, as Homer
observes.
Her. I see.
Soc. Why, Hermogenes, I do not as yet
see myself; and do you?
Her. No, indeed; not I.
Soc. But tell me, friend, did not
Homer himself also give Hector his name?
Her. What of that?
Soc. The name appears to me to be
very nearly the same as the name of
Astyanax- both are Hellenic; and a king
(anax) and a holder (ektor) have nearly the
same meaning, and are both descriptive of a
king; for a man is clearly the holder of
that of which he is king; he rules, and
owns, and holds it. But, perhaps, you may
think that I am talking nonsense; and indeed
I believe that I myself did not know what I
meant when I imagined that I had found some
indication of the opinion of Homer about the
correctness of names.
Her. I assure you that I think
otherwise, and I believe you to be on the
right track.
Soc. There is reason, I think, in
calling the lion's whelp a lion, and the
foal of a horse a horse; I am speaking only
of the ordinary course of nature, when an
animal produces after his kind, and not of
extraordinary births;- if contrary to nature
a horse have a calf, then I should not call
that a foal but a calf; nor do I call any
inhuman birth a man, but only a natural
birth. And the same may be said of trees and
other things. Do you agree with me?
Her. Yes, I agree.
Soc. Very good. But you had better
watch me and see that I do not play tricks
with you. For on the same principle the son
of a king is to be called a king. And
whether the syllables of the name are the
same or not the same, makes no difference,
provided the meaning is retained; nor does
the addition or subtraction of a letter make
any difference so long as the essence of the
thing remains in possession of the name and
appears in it.
Her. What do you mean?
Soc. A very simple matter. I may
illustrate my meaning by the names of
letters, which you know are not the same as
the letters themselves with the exception of
the four e, u, o (short), o (long); the
names of the rest, whether vowels or
consonants, are made up of other letters
which we add to them; but so long as we
introduce the meaning, and there can be no
mistake, the name of the letter is quite
correct. Take, for example, the letter beta-
the addition of e, t, a, gives no offence,
and does not prevent the whole name from
having the value which the legislator
intended- so well did he know how to give
the letters names.
Her. I believe you are right.
Soc. And may not the same be said of
a king? a king will often be the son of a
king, the good son or the noble son of a
good or noble sire; and similarly the off
spring of every kind, in the regular course
of nature, is like the parent, and therefore
has the same name. Yet the syllables may be
disguised until they appear different to the
ignorant person, and he may not recognize
them, although they are the same, just as
any one of us would not recognize the same
drugs under different disguises of colour
and smell, although to the physician, who
regards the power of them, they are the
same, and he is not put out by the addition;
and in like manner the etymologist is not
put out by the addition or transposition or
subtraction of a letter or two, or indeed by
the change of all the letters, for this need
not interfere with the meaning. As was just
now said, the names of Hector and Astyanax
have only one letter alike, which is t, and
yet they have the same meaning. And how
little in common with the letters of their
names has Archepolis (ruler of the city)-
and yet the meaning is the same. And there
are many other names which just mean "king."
Again, there are several names for a
general, as, for example, Agis (leader) and
Polemarchus (chief in war) and Eupolemus
(good warrior); and others which denote a
physician, as Iatrocles (famous healer) and
Acesimbrotus (curer of mortals); and there
are many others which might be cited,
differing in their syllables and letters,
but having the same meaning. Would you not
say so?
Her. Yes.
Soc. The same names, then, ought to
be assigned to those who follow in the
course of nature?
Her. Yes.
Soc. And what of those who follow out
of the course of nature, and are prodigies?
for example, when a good and religious man
has an irreligious son, he ought to bear the
name not of his father, but of the class to
which he belongs, just as in the case which
was before supposed of a horse foaling a
calf.
Her. Quite true.
Soc. Then the irreligious son of a
religious father should be called
irreligious?
Her. Certainly.
Soc. He should not be called
Theophilus (beloved of God) or Mnesitheus
(mindful of God), or any of these names: if
names are correctly given, his should have
an opposite meaning.
Her. Certainly, Socrates.
Soc. Again, Hermogenes, there is
Orestes (the man of the mountains) who
appears to be rightly called; whether chance
gave the name, or perhaps some poet who
meant to express the brutality and
fierceness and mountain wildness of his
hero's nature.
Her. That is very likely, Socrates.
Soc. And his father's name is also
according to nature.
Her. Clearly.
Soc. Yes, for as his name, so also is
his nature; Agamemnon (admirable for
remaining) is one who is patient and
persevering in the accomplishment of his
resolves, and by his virtue crowns them; and
his continuance at Troy with all the vast
army is a proof of that admirable endurance
in him which is signified by the name
Agamemnon. I also think that Atreus is
rightly called; for his murder of Chrysippus
and his exceeding cruelty to Thyestes are
damaging and destructive to his reputation-
the name is a little altered and disguised
so as not to be intelligible to every one,
but to the etymologist there is no
difficulty in seeing the meaning, for
whether you think of him as ateires the
stubborn, or as atrestos the fearless, or as
ateros the destructive one, the name is
perfectly correct in every point of view.
And I think that Pelops is also named
appropriately; for, as the name implies, he
is rightly called Pelops who sees what is
near only (o ta pelas oron).
Her. How so?
Soc. Because, according to the
tradition, he had no forethought or
foresight of all the evil which the murder
of Myrtilus would entail upon his whole race
in remote ages; he saw only what was at hand
and immediate,- Or in other words, pelas
(near), in his eagerness to win Hippodamia
by all means for his bride. Every one would
agree that the name of Tantalus is rightly
given and in accordance with nature, if the
traditions about him are true.
Her. And what are the traditions?
Soc. Many terrible misfortunes are
said to have happened to him in his life-
last of all, came the utter ruin of his
country; and after his death he had the
stone suspended (talanteia) over his head in
the world below- all this agrees wonderfully
well with his name. You might imagine that
some person who wanted to call him
Talantatos (the most weighted down by
misfortune), disguised the name by altering
it into Tantalus; and into this form, by
some accident of tradition, it has actually
been transmuted. The name of Zeus, who is
his alleged father, has also an excellent
meaning, although hard to be understood,
because really like a sentence, which is
divided into two parts, for some call him
Zena, and use the one half, and others who
use the other half call him Dia; the two
together signify the nature of the God, and
the business of a name, as we were saying,
is to express the nature. For there is none
who is more the author of life to us and to
all, than the lord and king of all.
Wherefore we are right in calling him Zena
and Dia, which are one name, although
divided, meaning the God through whom all
creatures always have life (di on zen aei
pasi tois zosin uparchei). There is an
irreverence, at first sight, in calling him
son of Cronos (who is a proverb for
stupidity), and we might rather expect Zeus
to be the child of a mighty intellect. Which
is the fact; for this is the meaning of his
father's name: Kronos quasi Koros (Choreo,
to sweep), not in the sense of a youth, but
signifying to chatharon chai acheraton tou
nou, the pure and garnished mind (sc. apo
tou chorein). He, as we are informed by
tradition, was begotten of Uranus, rightly
so called (apo tou oran ta ano) from looking
upwards; which, as philosophers tell us, is
the way to have a pure mind, and the name
Uranus is therefore correct. If I could
remember the genealogy of Hesiod, I would
have gone on and tried more conclusions of
the same sort on the remoter ancestors of
the Gods,- then I might have seen whether
this wisdom, which has come to me all in an
instant, I know not whence, will or will not
hold good to the end.
Her. You seem to me, Socrates, to be
quite like a prophet newly inspired, and to
be uttering oracles.
Soc. Yes, Hermogenes, and I believe
that I caught the inspiration from the great
Euthyphro of the Prospaltian deme, who gave
me a long lecture which commenced at dawn:
he talked and I listened, and his wisdom and
enchanting ravishment has not only filled my
ears but taken possession of my soul,and
to-day I shall let his superhuman power work
and finish the investigation of names- that
will be the way; but to-morrow, if you are
so disposed, we will conjure him away, and
make a purgation of him, if we can only find
some priest or sophist who is skilled in
purifications of this sort.
Her. With all my heart; for am very
curious to hear the rest of the enquiry
about names.
Soc. Then let us proceed; and where
would you have us begin, now that we have
got a sort of outline of the enquiry? Are
there any names which witness of themselves
that they are not given arbitrarily, but
have a natural fitness? The names of heroes
and of men in general are apt to be
deceptive because they are often called
after ancestors with whose names, as we were
saying, they may have no business; or they
are the expression of a wish like Eutychides
(the son of good fortune), or Sosias (the
Saviour), or Theophilus (the beloved of
God), and others. But I think that we had
better leave these, for there will be more
chance of finding correctness in the names
of immutable essences;- there ought to have
been more care taken about them when they
were named, and perhaps there may have been
some more than human power at work
occasionally in giving them names.
Her. I think so, Socrates.
Soc. Ought we not to begin with the
consideration of the Gods, and show that
they are" rightly named Gods?
Her. Yes, that will be well.
Soc. My notion would be something of
this sort:- I suspect that the sun, moon,
earth, stars, and heaven, which are still
the Gods of many barbarians, were the only
Gods known to the aboriginal Hellenes.
Seeing that they were always moving and
running, from their running nature they were
called Gods or runners (Theous, Theontas);
and when men became acquainted with the
other Gods, they proceeded to apply the same
name to them all. Do you think that likely?
Her. I think it very likely indeed.
Soc. What shall follow the Gods?
Her. Must not demons and heroes and
men come next?
Soc. Demons! And what do you consider
to be the meaning of this word? Tell me if
my view is right.
Her. Let me hear.
Soc. You know how Hesiod uses the
word?
Her. I do not.
Soc. Do you not remember that he
speaks of a golden race of men who came
first?
Her. Yes, I do.
Soc. He says of them-
But now that fate has closed over this race
They are holy demons upon the earth,
Beneficent, averters of ills, guardians of
mortal men.
Her. What is the inference?
Soc. What is the inference! Why, I
suppose that he means by the golden men, not
men literally made of gold, but good and
noble; and I am convinced of this, because
he further says that we are the iron race.
Her. That is true.
Soc. And do you not suppose that good
men of our own day would by him be said to
be of golden race?
Her. Very likely.
Soc. And are not the good wise?
Her. Yes, they are wise.
Soc. And therefore I have the most
entire conviction that he called them
demons, because they were daemones (knowing
or wise), and in our older Attic dialect the
word itself occurs. Now he and other poets
say truly, that when a good man dies he has
honour and a mighty portion among the dead,
and becomes a demon; which is a name given
to him signifying wisdom. And I say too,
that every wise man who happens to be a good
man is more than human (daimonion) both in
life and death, and is rightly called a
demon.
Her. Then I rather think that I am of
one mind with you; but what is the meaning
of the word "hero"? (eros)
Soc. I think that there is no
difficulty in explaining, for the name is
not much altered, and signifies that they
were born of love.
Her. What do you mean?
Soc. Do you not know that the heroes
are demigods?
Her. What then?
Soc. All of them sprang either from
the love of a God for a mortal woman, or of
a mortal man for a Goddess; think of the
word in the old Attic, and you will see
better that the name heros is only a slight
alteration of Eros, from whom the heroes
sprang: either this is the meaning, or, if
not this, then they must have been skilful
as rhetoricians and dialecticians, and able
to put the question (erotan), for eirein is
equivalent to legein. And therefore, as I
was saying, in the Attic dialect the heroes
turn out to be rhetoricians and questioners.
All this is easy enough; the noble breed of
heroes are a tribe of sophists and rhetors.
But can you tell me why men are called
anthropoi?- that is more difficult.
Her. No, I cannot; and I would not
try even if I could, because I think that
you are the more likely to succeed.
Soc. That is to say, you trust to the
inspiration of Euthyphro.
Her. Of course.
Soc. Your faith is not vain; for at
this very moment a new and ingenious thought
strikes me, and, if I am not careful, before
tomorrow's dawn I shall be wiser than I
ought to be. Now, attend to me; and first,
remember that we of put in and pull out
letters in words, and give names as we
please and change the accents. Take, for
example, the word Dii Philos; in order to
convert this from a sentence into a noun, we
omit one of the iotas and sound the middle
syllable grave instead of acute; as, on the
other hand, letters are sometimes inserted
in words instead of being omitted, and the
acute takes the place of the grave.
Her. That is true.
Soc. The name anthropos, which was
once a sentence, and is now a noun, appears
to be a case just of this sort, for one
letter, which is the a, has been omitted,
and the acute on the last syllable has been
changed to a grave.
Her. What do you mean?
Soc. I mean to say that the word
"man" implies that other animals never
examine, or consider, or look up at what
they see, but that man not only sees (opope)
but considers and looks up at that which he
sees, and hence he alone of all animals is
rightly anthropos, meaning anathron a
opopen.
Her. May I ask you to examine another
word about which I am curious?
Soc. Certainly.
Her. I will take that which appears
to me to follow next in order. You know the
distinction of soul and body?
Soc. Of course.
Her. Let us endeavour to analyze them
like the previous words.
Soc. You want me first of all to
examine the natural fitness of the word
psnche (soul), and then of the word soma
(body)?
Her. Yes.
Soc. If I am to say what occurs to me
at the moment, I should imagine that those
who first use the name psnche meant to
express that the soul when in the body is
the source of life, and gives the power of
breath and revival (anapsuchon), and when
this reviving power fails then the body
perishes and dies, and this, if I am not
mistaken, they called psyche. But please
stay a moment; I fancy that I can discover
something which will be more acceptable to
the disciples of Euthyphro, for I am afraid
that they will scorn this explanation. What
do you say to another?
Her. Let me hear.
Soc. What is that which holds and
carries and gives life and motion to the
entire nature of the body? What else but the
soul?
Her. Just that.
Soc. And do you not believe with
Anaxagoras, that mind or soul is the
ordering and containing principle of all
things?
Her. Yes; I do.
Soc. Then you may well call that
power phuseche which carries and holds
nature (e phusin okei, kai ekei), and this
may be refined away into psuche. Her.
Certainly; and this derivation is, I think,
more scientific than the other.
Soc. It is so; but I cannot help
laughing, if I am to suppose that this was
the true meaning of the name.
Her. But what shall we say of the
next word?
Soc. You mean soma (the body).
Her. Yes.
Soc. That may be variously
interpreted; and yet more variously if a
little permutation is allowed. For some say
that the body is the grave (sema) of the
soul which may be thought to be buried in
our present life; or again the index of the
soul, because the soul gives indications to
(semainei) the body; probably the Orphic
poets were the inventors of the name, and
they were under the impression that the soul
is suffering the punishment of sin, and that
the body is an enclosure or prison in which
the soul is incarcerated, kept safe (soma,
sozetai), as the name ooma implies, until
the penalty is paid; according to this view,
not even a letter of the word need be
changed.
Her. I think, Socrates, that we have
said enough of this class of words. But have
we any more explanations of the names of the
Gods, like that which you were giving of
Zeus? I should like to know whether any
similar principle of correctness is to be
applied to them.
Soc. Yes, indeed, Hermogenes; and
there is one excellent principle which, as
men of sense, we must acknowledge,- that of
the Gods we know nothing, either of their
natures or of the names which they give
themselves; but we are sure that the names
by which they call themselves, whatever they
may be, are true. And this is the best of
all principles; and the next best is to say,
as in prayers, that we will call them by any
sort of kind names or patronymics which they
like, because we do not know of any other.
That also, I think, is a very good custom,
and one which I should much wish to observe.
Let us, then, if you please, in the first
place announce to them that we are not
enquiring about them; we do not presume that
we are able to do so; but we are enquiring
about the meaning of men in giving them
these names,- in this there can be small
blame.
Her. I think, Socrates, that you are
quite right, and I would like to do as you
say.
Soc. Shall we begin, then, with
Hestia, according to custom?
Her. Yes, that will be very proper.
Soc. What may we suppose him to have
meant who gave the name Hestia?
Her. That is another and certainly a
most difficult question.
Soc. My dear Hermogenes, the first
imposers of names must surely have been
considerable persons; they were
philosophers, and had a good deal to say.
Her. Well, and what of them?
Soc. They are the men to whom I
should attribute the imposition of names.
Even in foreign names, if you analyze them,
a meaning is still discernible. For example,
that which we term ousia is by some called
esia, and by others again osia. Now that the
essence of things should be called estia,
which is akin to the first of these (esia =
estia), is rational enough. And there is
reason in the Athenians calling that estia
which participates in ousia. For in ancient
times we too seem to have said esia for
ousia, and this you may note to have been
the idea of those who appointed that
sacrifices should be first offered to estia,
which was natural enough if they meant that
estia was the essence of things. Those again
who read osia seem to have inclined to the
opinion of Heracleitus, that all things flow
and nothing stands; with them the pushing
principle (othoun) is the cause and ruling
power of all things, and is therefore
rightly called osia. Enough of this, which
is all that we who know nothing can affirm.
Next in order after Hestia we ought to
consider Rhea and Cronos, although the name
of Cronos has been already discussed. But I
dare say that I am talking great nonsense.
Her. Why, Socrates?
Soc. My good friend, I have
discovered a hive of wisdom.
Her. Of what nature?
Soc. Well, rather ridiculous, and yet
plausible.
Her. How plausible?
Soc. I fancy to myself Heracleitus
repeating wise traditions of antiquity as
old as the days of Cronos and Rhea, and of
which Homer also spoke.
Her. How do you mean?
Soc. Heracleitus is supposed to say
that all things are in motion and nothing at
rest; he compares them to the stream of a
river, and says that you cannot go into the
same water twice.
Her. That is true.
Soc. Well, then, how can we avoid
inferring that he who gave the names of
Cronos and Rhea to the ancestors of the
Gods, agreed pretty much in the doctrine of
Heracleitus? Is the giving of the names of
streams to both of them purely accidental?
Compare the line in which Homer, and, as I
believe, Hesiod also, tells of
Ocean, the origin of Gods, and mother
Tethys. And again, Orpheus says, that
The fair river of Ocean was the first to
marry, and he espoused his sister Tethys,
who was his mother's daughter. You see that
this is a remarkable coincidence, and all in
the direction of Heracleitus.
Her. I think that there is something
in what you say, Socrates; but I do not
understand the meaning of the name Tethys.
Soc. Well, that is almost
self-explained, being only the name of a
spring, a little disguised; for that which
is strained and filtered (diattomenon,
ethoumenon) may be likened to a spring, and
the name Tethys is made up of these two
words.
Her. The idea is ingenious, Socrates.
Soc. To be sure. But what comes
next?- of Zeus we have spoken.
Her. Yes.
Soc. Then let us next take his two
brothers, Poseidon and Pluto, whether the
latter is called by that or by his other
name.
Her. By all means.
Soc. Poseidon is Posidesmos, the
chain of the feet; the original inventor of
the name had been stopped by the watery
element in his walks, and not allowed to go
on, and therefore he called the ruler of
this element Poseidon; the e was probably
inserted as an ornament. Yet, perhaps, not
so; but the name may have been originally
written with a double l and not with an s,
meaning that the God knew many things (Polla
eidos). And perhaps also he being the shaker
of the earth, has been named from shaking
(seiein), and then p and d have been added.
Pluto gives wealth (Ploutos), and his name
means the giver of wealth, which comes out
of the earth beneath. People in general
appear to imagine that the term Hades is
connected with the invisible (aeides) and so
they are led by their fears to call the God
Pluto instead.
Her. And what is the true derivation?
Soc. In spite of the mistakes which
are made about the power of this deity, and
the foolish fears which people have of him,
such as the fear of always being with him
after death, and of the soul denuded of the
body going to him, my belief is that all is
quite consistent, and that the office and
name of the God really correspond.
Her. Why, how is that?
Soc. I will tell you my own opinion;
but first, I should like to ask you which
chain does any animal feel to be the
stronger? and which confines him more to the
same spot,- desire or necessity?
Her. Desire, Socrates, is stronger
far.
Soc. And do you not think that many a
one would escape from Hades, if he did not
bind those who depart to him by the
strongest of chains?
Her. Assuredly they would.
Soc. And if by the greatest of
chains, then by some desire, as I should
certainly infer, and not by necessity?
Her. That is clear.
Soc. And there are many desires?
Her. Yes.
Soc. And therefore by the greatest
desire, if the chain is to be the greatest?
Her. Yes.
Soc. And is any desire stronger than
the thought that you will be made better by
associating with another?
Her. Certainly not.
Soc. And is not that the reason,
Hermogenes, why no one, who has been to him,
is willing to come back to us? Even the
Sirens, like all the rest of the world, have
been laid under his spells. Such a charm, as
I imagine, is the God able to infuse into
his words. And, according to this view, he
is the perfect and accomplished Sophist, and
the great benefactor of the inhabitants of
the other world; and even to us who are upon
earth he sends from below exceeding
blessings. For he has much more than he
wants down there; wherefore he is called
Pluto (or the rich). Note also, that he will
have nothing to do with men while they are
in the body, but only when the soul is
liberated from the desires and evils of the
body. Now there is a great deal of
philosophy and reflection in that; for in
their liberated state he can bind them with
the desire of virtue, but while they are
flustered and maddened by the body, not even
father Cronos himself would suffice to keep
them with him in his own far-famed chains.
Her. There is a deal of truth in what
you say.
Soc. Yes, Hermogenes, and the
legislator called him Hades, not from the
unseen (aeides)- far otherwise, but from his
knowledge (eidenai) of all noble things.
Her. Very good; and what do we say of
Demeter, and Here, and Apollo, and Athene,
and Hephaestus, and Ares, and the other
deities?
Soc. Demeter is e didousa meter, who
gives food like a mother; Here is the lovely
one (erate)- for Zeus, according to
tradition, loved and married her; possibly
also the name may have been given when the
legislator was thinking of the heavens, and
may be only a disguise of the air (aer),
putting the end in the place of the
beginning. You will recognize the truth of
this if you repeat the letters of Here
several times over. People dread the name of
Pherephatta as they dread the name of
Apollo- and with as little reason; the fear,
if I am not mistaken, only arises from their
ignorance of the nature of names. But they
go changing the name into Phersephone, and
they are terrified at this; whereas the new
name means only that the Goddess is wise
(sophe); for seeing that all things in the
world are in motion (pheromenon), that
principle which embraces and touches and is
able to follow them, is wisdom. And
therefore the Goddess may be truly called
Pherepaphe (Pherepapha), or some name like
it, because she touches that which is (tou
pheromenon ephaptomene), herein showing her
wisdom. And Hades, who is wise, consorts
with her, because she is wise. They alter
her name into Pherephatta now-a-days,
because the present generation care for
euphony more than truth. There is the other
name, Apollo, which, as I was saying, is
generally supposed to have some terrible
signification. Have you remarked this fact?
Her. To be sure I have, and what you
say is true.
Soc. But the name, in my opinion, is
really most expressive of the power of the
God.
Her. How so?
Soc. I will endeavour to explain, for
I do not believe that any single name could
have been better adapted to express the
attributes of the God, embracing and in a
manner signifying all four of them,- music,
and prophecy, and medicine, and archery.
Her. That must be a strange name, and
I should like to hear the explanation.
Soc. Say rather an harmonious name,
as beseems the God of Harmony. In the first
place, the purgations and purifications
which doctors and diviners use, and their
fumigations with drugs magical or medicinal,
as well as their washings and lustral
sprinklings, have all one and the same
object, which is to make a man pure both in
body and soul.
Her. Very true.
Soc. And is not Apollo the purifier,
and the washer, and the absolver from all
impurities?
Her. Very true.
Soc. Then in reference to his
ablutions and absolutions, as being the
physician who orders them, he may be rightly
called Apolouon (purifier); or in respect of
his powers of divination, and his truth and
sincerity, which is the same as truth, he
may be most fitly called Aplos, from aplous
(sincere), as in the Thessalian dialect, for
all the Thessalians call him Aplos; also he
is Ballon (always shooting), because he is a
master archer who never misses; or again,
the name may refer to his musical
attributes, and then, as in akolouthos, and
akoitis, and in many other words the a is
supposed to mean "together," so the meaning
of the name Apollo will be "moving
together," whether in the poles of heaven as
they are called, or in the harmony of song,
which is termed concord, because he moves
all together by an harmonious power, as
astronomers and musicians ingeniously
declare. And he is the God who presides over
harmony, and makes all things move together,
both among Gods and among men. And as in the
words akolouthos and akoitis the a is
substituted for an o, so the name Apollon is
equivalent to omopolon; only the second l is
added in order to avoid the ill-omened sound
of destruction (apolon). Now the suspicion
of this destructive power still haunts the
minds of some who do not consider the true
value of the name, which, as I was saying
just now, has reference to all the powers of
the God, who is the single one, the
everdarting, the purifier, the mover
together (aplous, aei Ballon, apolouon,
omopolon). The name of the Muses and of
music would seem to be derived from their
making philosophical enquiries (mosthai);
and Leto is called by this name, because she
is such a gentle Goddess, and so willing
(ethelemon) to grant our requests; or her
name may be Letho, as she is often called by
strangers- they seem to imply by it her
amiability, and her smooth and easy-going
way of behaving. Artemis is named from her
healthy (artemes), well-ordered nature, and
because of her love of virginity, perhaps
because she is a proficient in virtue
(arete), and perhaps also as hating
intercourse of the sexes (ton aroton
miseasa). He who gave the Goddess her name
may have had any or all of these reasons.
Her. What is the meaning of Dionysus
and Aphrodite?
Soc. Son of Hipponicus, you ask a
solemn question; there is a serious and also
a facetious explanation of both these names;
the serious explanation is not to be had
from me, but there is no objection to your
hearing the facetious one; for the Gods too
love a joke. Dionusos is simply didous oinon
(giver of wine), as he might be called in
fun,- and oinos is properly oionous, because
wine makes those who drink, think (oiesthai)
that they have a mind (noun) when they have
none. The derivation of Aphrodite, born of
the foam (aphoros), may be fairly accepted
on the authority of Hesiod.
Her. Still there remains Athene, whom
you, Socrates, as an Athenian, will surely
not forget; there are also Hephaestus and
Ares.
Soc. I am not likely to forget them.
Her. No, indeed.
Soc. There is no difficulty in
explaining the other appellation of Athene.
Her. What other appellation?
Soc. We call her Pallas.
Her. To be sure.
Soc. And we cannot be wrong in
supposing that this is derived from armed
dances. For the elevation of oneself or
anything else above the earth, or by the use
of the hands, we call shaking (pallein), or
dancing.
Her. That is quite true.
Soc. Then that is the explanation of
the name Pallas?
Her. Yes; but what do you say of the
other name?
Soc. Athene?
Her. Yes.
Soc. That is a graver matter, and
there, my friend, the modern interpreters of
Homer may, I think, assist in explaining the
view of the ancients. For most of these in
their explanations of the poet, assert that
he meant by Athene "mind" (nous) and
"intelligence" (dianoia), and the maker of
names appears to have had a singular notion
about her; and indeed calls her by a still
higher title, "divine intelligence" (Thou
noesis), as though he would say: This is she
who has the mind of God (Theonoa);- using a
as a dialectical variety e, and taking away
i and s. Perhaps, however, the name Theonoe
may mean "she who knows divine things"
(Theia noousa) better than others. Nor shall
we be far wrong in supposing that the author
of it wished to identify this Goddess with
moral intelligence (en ethei noesin), and
therefore gave her the name ethonoe; which,
however, either he or his successors have
altered into what they thought a nicer form,
and called her Athene.
Her. But what do you say of
Hephaestus?
Soc. Speak you of the princely lord
of light (Phaeos istora)?
Her. Surely.
Soc. Ephaistos is Phaistos, and has
added the e by attraction; that is obvious
to anybody.
Her. That is very probable, until
some more probable notion gets into your
head.
Soc. To prevent that, you had better
ask what is the derivation of Ares.
Her. What is Ares?
Soc. Ares may be called, if you will,
from his manhood (arren) and manliness, or
if you please, from his hard and
unchangeable nature, which is the meaning of
arratos: the latter is a derivation in every
way appropriate to the God of war.
Her. Very true.
Soc. And now, by the Gods, let us
have no more of the Gods, for I am afraid of
them; ask about anything but them, and thou
shalt see how the steeds of Euthyphro can
prance.
Her. Only one more God! I should like
to know about Hermes, of whom I am said not
to be a true son. Let us make him out, and
then I shall know whether there is any
meaning in what Cratylus says.
Soc. I should imagine that the name
Hermes has to do with speech, and signifies
that he is the interpreter (ermeneus), or
messenger, or thief, or liar, or bargainer;
all that sort of thing has a great deal to
do with language; as I was telling you the
word eirein is expressive of the use of
speech, and there is an often-recurring
Homeric word emesato, which means "he
contrived"- out of these two words, eirein
and mesasthai, the legislator formed the
name of the God who invented language and
speech; and we may imagine him dictating to
us the use of this name: "O my friends,"
says he to us, "seeing that he is the
contriver of tales or speeches, you may
rightly call him Eirhemes." And this has
been improved by us, as we think, into
Hermes. Iris also appears to have been
called from the verb "to tell" (eirein),
because she was a messenger.
Her. Then I am very sure that
Cratylus was quite right in saying that I
was no true son of Hermes (Ermogenes), for I
am not a good hand at speeches.
Soc. There is also reason, my friend,
in Pan being the double-formed son of
Hermes.
Her. How do you make that out?
Soc. You are aware that speech
signifies all things (pan), and is always
turning them round and round, and has two
forms, true and false?
Her. Certainly.
Soc. Is not the truth that is in him
the smooth or sacred form which dwells above
among the Gods, whereas falsehood dwells
among men below, and is rough like the goat
of tragedy; for tales and falsehoods have
generally to do with the tragic or goatish
life, and tragedy is the place of them?
Her. Very true.
Soc. Then surely Pan, who is the
declarer of all things (pan) and the
perpetual mover (aei polon) of all things,
is rightly called aipolos (goat-herd), he
being the two-formed son of Hermes, smooth
in his upper part, and rough and goatlike in
his lower regions. And, as the son of
Hermes, he is speech or the brother of
speech, and that brother should be like
brother is no marvel. But, as I was saying,
my dear Hermogenes, let us get away from the
Gods.
Her. From these sort of Gods, by all
means, Socrates. But why should we not
discuss another kind of Gods- the sun, moon,
stars, earth, aether, air, fire, water, the
seasons, and the year?
Soc. You impose a great many tasks
upon me. Still, if you wish, I will not
refuse.
Her. You will oblige me.
Soc. How would you have me begin?
Shall I take first of all him whom you
mentioned first- the sun?
Her. Very good.
Soc. The origin of the sun will
probably be clearer in the Doric form, for
the Dorians call him alios, and this name is
given to him because when he rises he
gathers (alizoi) men together or because he
is always rolling in his course (aei eilein
ion) about the earth; or from aiolein, of
which meaning is the same as poikillein (to
variegate), because he variegates the
productions of the earth.
Her. But what is selene (the moon)?
Soc. That name is rather unfortunate
for Anaxagoras.
Her. How so?
Soc. The word seems to forestall his
recent discovery, that the moon receives her
light from the sun.
Her. Why do you say so?
Soc. The two words selas (brightness)
and phos (light) have much the same meaning?
Her. Yes.
Soc. This light about the moon is
always new (neon) and always old (enon), if
the disciples of Anaxagoras say truly. For
the sun in his revolution always adds new
light, and there is the old light of the
previous month.
Her. Very true.
Soc. The moon is not unfrequently
called selanaia.
Her. True.
Soc. And as she has a light which is
always old and always new (enon neon aei)
she may very properly have the name
selaenoneoaeia; and this when hammered into
shape becomes selanaia.
Her. A real dithyrambic sort of name
that, Socrates. But what do you say of the
month and the stars?
Soc. Meis (month) is called from
meiousthai (to lessen), because suffering
diminution; the name of astra (stars) seems
to be derived from astrape, which is an
improvement on anastphope, signifying the
upsetting of the eyes (anastrephein opa).
Her. What do you say of pur (fire)
and udor (water)?
Soc. I am at a loss how to explain
pur; either the muse of Euthyphro has
deserted me, or there is some very great
difficulty in the word. Please, however, to
note the contrivance which I adopt whenever
I am in a difficulty of this sort.
Her. What is it?
Soc. I will tell you; but I should
like to know first whether you can tell me
what is the meaning of the pur?
Her. Indeed I cannot.
Soc. Shall I tell you what I suspect
to be the true explanation of this and
several other words?- My belief is that they
are of foreign origin. For the Hellenes,
especially those who were under the dominion
of the barbarians, often borrowed from them.
Her. What is the inference?
Soc. Why, you know that any one who
seeks to demonstrate the fitness of these
names according to the Hellenic language,
and not according to the language from which
the words are derived, is rather likely to
be at fault.
Her. Yes, certainly.
Soc. Well then, consider whether this
pur is not foreign; for the word is not
easily brought into relation with the
Hellenic tongue, and the Phrygians may be
observed to have the same word slightly
changed, just as they have udor (water) and
kunes (dogs), and many other words.
Her. That is true.
Soc. Any violent interpretations of
the words should be avoided; for something
to say about them may easily be found. And
thus I get rid of pur and udor. Aer (air),
Hermogenes, may be explained as the element
which raises (airei) things from the earth,
or as ever flowing (aei pei), or because the
flux of the air is wind, and the poets call
the winds "air-blasts," (aetai); he who uses
the term may mean, so to speak, air-flux
(aetorroun), in the sense of wind-flux
(pneumatorroun); and because this moving
wind may be expressed by either term he
employs the word air (aer = aetes rheo).
Aither (aether) I should interpret as
aeitheer; this may be correctly said,
because this element is always running in a
flux about the air (aei thei peri tou aera
ron). The meaning of the word ge (earth)
comes out better when in the form of gaia,
for the earth may be truly called "mother"
(gaia, genneteira), as in the language of
Homer (Od. ix. 118; xiii. 160) gegaasi means
gegennesthai.
Her. Good.
Soc. What shall we take next? Her.
There are orai (the seasons), and the two
names of the year, eniautos and etos.
Soc. The orai should be spelt in the
old Attic way, if you desire to know the
probable truth about them; they are rightly
called the orai because they divide
(orizousin) the summers and winters and
winds and the fruits of the earth. The words
eniautos and etos appear to be the same,-
"that which brings to light the plants and
growths of the earth in their turn, and
passes them in review within itself (en
eauto exetazei)": this is broken up into two
words, eniautos from en eauto, and etos from
etazei, just as the original name of Zeus
was divided into Zena and Dia; and the whole
proposition means that his power of
reviewing from within is one, but has two
names, two words etos and eniautos being
thus formed out of a single proposition.
Her. Indeed, Socrates, you make
surprising progress.
Soc. I am run away with.
Her. Very true.
Soc. But am not yet at my utmost
speed.
Her. I should like very much to know,
in the next place, how you would explain the
virtues. What principle of correctness is
there in those charming words- wisdom,
understanding, justice, and the rest of
them?
Soc. That is a tremendous class of
names which you are disinterring; still, as
I have put on the lion's skin, I must not be
faint of heart; and I suppose that I must
consider the meaning of wisdom (phronesis)
and understanding (sunesis), and judgment
(gnome), and knowledge (episteme), and all
those other charming words, as you call
them?
Her. Surely, we must not leave off
until we find out their meaning.
Soc. By the dog of Egypt I have not a
bad notion which came into my head only this
moment: I believe that the primeval givers
of names were undoubtedly like too many of
our modern philosophers, who, in their
search after the nature of things, are
always getting dizzy from constantly going
round and round, and then they imagine that
the world is going round and round and
moving in all directions; and this
appearance, which arises out of their own
internal condition, they suppose to be a
reality of nature; they think that there is
nothing stable or permanent, but only flux
and motion, and that the world is always
full of every sort of motion and change. The
consideration of the names which I mentioned
has led me into making this reflection.
Her. How is that, Socrates?
Soc. Perhaps you did not observe that
in the names which have been just cited, the
motion or flux or generation of things is
most surely indicated.
Her. No, indeed, I never thought of
it.
Soc. Take the first of those which
you mentioned; clearly that is a name
indicative of motion.
Her. What was the name? Soc.
Phronesis (wisdom), which may signify Phoras
kai rhou noesis (perception of motion and
flux), or perhaps Phoras onesis (the
blessing of motion), but is at any rate
connected with Pheresthai (motion); gnome
(judgment), again, certainly implies the
ponderation or consideration (nomesis) of
generation, for to ponder is the same as to
consider; or, if you would rather, here is
noesis, the very word just now mentioned,
which is neou esis (the desire of the new);
the word neos implies that the world is
always in process of creation. The giver of
the name wanted to express his longing of
the soul, for the original name was neoesis,
and not noesis. The word sophrosune is the
salvation (soteria) of that wisdom
(phronesis) which we were just now
considering. Epioteme (knowledge) is akin to
this, and indicates that the soul which is
good for anything follows (epetai) the
motion of things, neither anticipating them
nor falling behind them; wherefor the word
should rather be read as epistemene,
inserting en. Sunesis (understanding) may be
regarded in like manner as a kind of
conclusion; the word is derived from
sunienai (to go along with), and, like
epistasthai (to know), implies the
progression of the soul in company with the
nature of things. Sophia (wisdom) is very
dark, and appears not to be of native
growth; the meaning is, touching the motion
or stream of things. You must remember that
the poets, when they speak of the
commencement of any rapid motion, often use
the word esuthe (he rushed); and there was a
famous Lacedaemonian who was named Sous
(Rush), for by this word the Lacedaemonians
signify rapid motion, and the touching
(epaphe) of motion is expressed by sophia,
for all things are supposed to be in motion.
Good (agathon) is the name which is given to
the admirable (agasto) in nature; for,
although all things move, still there are
degrees of motion; some are swifter, some
slower; but there are some things which are
admirable for their swiftness, and this
admirable part of nature is called agathon.
Dikaiosune (justice) is clearly dikaiou
sunesis (understanding of the just); but the
actual word dikaion is more difficult: men
are only agreed to a certain extent about
justice, and then they begin to disagree.
For those who suppose all things to be in
motion conceive the greater part of nature
to be a mere receptacle; and they say that
there is a penetrating power which passes
through all this, and is the instrument of
creation in all, and is the subtlest and
swiftest element; for if it were not the
subtlest, and a power which none can keep
out, and also the swiftest, passing by other
things as if they were standing still, it
could not penetrate through the moving
universe. And this element, which
superintends all things and pieces (diaion)
all, is rightly called dikaion; the letter k
is only added for the sake of euphony. Thus
far, as I was saying, there is a general
agreement about the nature of justice; but
I, Hermogenes, being an enthusiastic
disciple, have been told in a mystery that
the justice of which I am speaking is also
the cause of the world: now a cause is that
because of which anything is created; and
some one comes and whispers in my ear that
justice is rightly so called because
partaking of the nature of the cause, and I
begin, after hearing what he has said, to
interrogate him gently: "Well, my excellent
friend," say I, "but if all this be true, I
still want to know what is justice."
Thereupon they think that I ask tiresome
questions, and am leaping over the barriers,
and have been already sufficiently answered,
and they try to satisfy me with one
derivation after another, and at length they
quarrel. For one of them says that justice
is the sun, and that he only is the piercing
(diaionta) and burning (kaonta) element
which is the guardian of nature. And when I
joyfully repeat this beautiful notion, I am
answered by the satirical remark, "What, is
there no justice in the world when the sun
is down?" And when I earnestly beg my
questioner to tell me his own honest
opinion, he says, "Fire in the abstract";
but this is not very intelligible. Another
says, "No, not fire in the abstract, but the
abstraction of heat in the fire." Another
man professes to laugh at all this, and
says, as Anaxagoras says, that justice is
mind, for mind, as they say, has absolute
power, and mixes with nothing, and orders
all things, and passes through all things.
At last, my friend, I find myself in far
greater perplexity about the nature of
justice than I was before I began to learn.
But still I am of opinion that the name,
which has led me into this digression, was
given to justice for the reasons which I
have mentioned.
Her. I think, Socrates, that you are
not improvising now; you must have heard
this from some one else.
Soc. And not the rest?
Her. Hardly. Soc. Well, then, let me
go on in the hope of making you believe in
the originality of the rest. What remains
after justice? I do not think that we have
as yet discussed courage (andreia),-
injustice (adikia), which is obviously
nothing more than a hindrance to the
penetrating principle (diaiontos), need not
be considered. Well, then, the name of
andreia seems to imply a battle;- this
battle is in the world of existence,