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attracting　other　rings；　and　sometimes　you　may　see　a　number　of　pieces


of　iron　and　rings　suspended　from　one　another　so　as　to　form　quite　a


long　chain：　and　all　of　them　derive　their　power　of　suspension　from


the　original　stone。　In　like　manner　the　Muse　first　of　all　inspires


men　herself；　and　from　these　inspired　persons　a　chain　of　other


persons　is　suspended；　who　take　the　inspiration。　For　all　good　poets；


epic　as　well　as　lyric；　compose　their　beautiful　poems　not　by　art；　but


because　they　are　inspired　and　possessed。　And　as　the　Corybantian


revellers　when　they　dance　are　not　in　their　right　mind；　so　the　lyric


poets　are　not　in　their　right　mind　when　they　are　composing　their


beautiful　strains：　but　when　falling　under　the　power　of　music　and　metre


they　are　inspired　and　possessed；　like　Bacchic　maidens　who　draw　milk


and　honey　from　the　rivers　when　they　are　under　the　influence　of


Dionysus　but　not　when　they　are　in　their　right　mind。　And　the　soul　of


the　lyric　poet　does　the　same；　as　they　themselves　say；　for　they　tell　us


that　they　bring　songs　from　honeyed　fountains；　culling　them　out　of


the　gardens　and　dells　of　the　Muses；　they；　like　the　bees；　winging　their


way　from　flower　to　flower。　And　this　is　true。　For　the　poet　is　a　light


and　winged　and　holy　thing；　and　there　is　no　invention　in　him　until　he


has　been　inspired　and　is　out　of　his　senses；　and　the　mind　is　no


longer　in　him：　when　he　has　not　attained　to　this　state；　he　is　powerless


and　is　unable　to　utter　his　oracles。


　　Many　are　the　noble　words　in　which　poets　speak　concerning　the　actions


of　men；　but　like　yourself　when　speaking　about　Homer；　they　do　not　speak


of　them　by　any　rules　of　art：　they　are　simply　inspired　to　utter　that　to


which　the　Muse　impels　them；　and　that　only；　and　when　inspired；　one　of


them　will　make　dithyrambs；　another　hymns　of　praise；　another　choral


strains；　another　epic　or　iambic　verses…　and　he　who　is　good　at　one　is


not　good　any　other　kind　of　verse：　for　not　by　art　does　the　poet　sing；


but　by　power　divine。　Had　he　learned　by　rules　of　art；　he　would　have


known　how　to　speak　not　of　one　theme　only；　but　of　all；　and　therefore


God　takes　away　the　minds　of　poets；　and　uses　them　as　his　ministers；


as　he　also　uses　diviners　and　holy　prophets；　in　order　that　we　who


hear　them　may　know　them　to　be　speaking　not　of　themselves　who　utter


these　priceless　words　in　a　state　of　unconsciousness；　but　that　God


himself　is　the　speaker；　and　that　through　them　he　is　conversing　with


us。　And　Tynnichus　the　Chalcidian　affords　a　striking　instance　of　what　I


am　saying：　he　wrote　nothing　that　any　one　would　care　to　remember　but


the　famous　paean　which；　in　every　one's　mouth；　one　of　the　finest


poems　ever　written；　simply　an　invention　of　the　Muses；　as　he　himself


says。　For　in　this　way；　the　God　would　seem　to　indicate　to　us　and　not


allow　us　to　doubt　that　these　beautiful　poems　are　not　human；　or　the


work　of　man；　but　divine　and　the　work　of　God；　and　that　the　poets　are


only　the　interpreters　of　the　Gods　by　whom　they　are　severally


possessed。　Was　not　this　the　lesson　which　the　God　intended　to　teach


when　by　the　mouth　of　the　worst　of　poets　he　sang　the　best　of　songs？


Am　I　not　right；　Ion？


　　Ion。　Yes；　indeed；　Socrates；　I　feel　that　you　are；　for　your　words


touch　my　soul；　and　I　am　persuaded　that　good　poets　by　a　divine


inspiration　interpret　the　things　of　the　Gods　to　us。


　　Soc。　And　you　rhapsodists　are　the　interpreters　of　the　poets？


　　Ion。　There　again　you　are　right。


　　Soc。　Then　you　are　the　interpreters　of　interpreters？


　　Ion。　Precisely。


　　Soc。　I　wish　you　would　frankly　tell　me；　Ion；　what　I　am　going　to　ask


of　you：　When　you　produce　the　greatest　effect　upon　the　audience　in


the　recitation　of　some　striking　passage；　such　as　the　apparition　of


Odysseus　leaping　forth　on　the　floor；　recognized　by　the　suitors　and


casting　his　arrows　at　his　feet；　or　the　description　of　Achilles　rushing


at　Hector；　or　the　sorrows　of　Andromache；　Hecuba；　or　Priam；…　are　you　in


your　right　mind？　Are　you　not　carried　out　of　yourself；　and　does　not


your　soul　in　an　ecstasy　seem　to　be　among　the　persons　or　places　of


which　you　are　speaking；　whether　they　are　in　Ithaca　or　in　Troy　or


whatever　may　be　the　scene　of　the　poem？


　　Ion。　That　proof　strikes　home　to　me；　Socrates。　For　I　must　frankly


confess　that　at　the　tale　of　pity；　my　eyes　are　filled　with　tears；　and


when　I　speak　of　horrors；　my　hair　stands　on　end　and　my　heart　throbs。


　　Soc。　Well；　Ion；　and　what　are　we　to　say　of　a　man　who　at　a　sacrifice


or　festival；　when　he　is　dressed　in　holiday　attire　and　has　golden


crowns　upon　his　head；　of　which　nobody　has　robbed　him；　appears　sweeping


or　panic…stricken　in　the　presence　of　more　than　twenty　thousand


friendly　faces；　when　there　is　no　one　despoiling　or　wronging　him；…　is


he　in　his　right　mind　or　is　he　not？


　　Ion。　No　indeed；　Socrates；　I　must　say　that；　strictly　speaking；　he


is　not　in　his　right　mind。


　　Soc。　And　are　you　aware　that　you　produce　similar　effects　on　most


spectators？


　　Ion。　Only　too　well；　for　I　look　down　upon　them　from　the　stage；　and


behold　the　various　emotions　of　pity；　wonder；　sternness；　stamped　upon


their　countenances　when　I　am　speaking：　and　I　am　obliged　to　give　my


very　best　attention　to　them；　for　if　I　make　them　cry　I　myself　shall


laugh；　and　if　I　make　them　laugh　I　myself　shall　cry　when　the　time　of


payment　arrives。


　　Soc。　Do　you　know　that　the　spectator　is　the　last　of　the　rings


which；　as　I　am　saying；　receive　the　power　of　the　original　magnet　from


one　another？　The　rhapsode　like　yourself　and　the　actor　are　intermediate


links；　and　the　poet　himself　is　the　first　of　them。　Through　all　these


the　God　sways　the　souls　of　men　in　any　direction　which　he　pleases；


and　makes　one　man　hang　down　from　another。　Thus　there　is　a　vast　chain


of　dancers　and　masters　and　undermasters　of　choruses；　who　are


suspended；　as　if　from　the　stone；　at　the　side　of　the　rings　which　hang


down　from　the　Muse。　And　every　poet　has　some　Muse　from　whom　he　is


suspended；　and　by　whom　he　is　said　to　be　possessed；　which　is　nearly　the


same　thing；　for　he　is　taken　hold　of。　And　from　these　first　rings；　which


are　the　poets；　depend　others；　some　deriving　their　inspiration　from


Orpheus；　others　from　Musaeus；　but　the　greater　number　are　possessed　and


held　by　Homer。　Of　whom；　Ion；　you　are　one；　and　are　possessed　by


Homer；　and　when　any　one　repeats　the　words　of　another　poet　you　go　to


sleep；　and　know　not　what　to　say；　but　when　any　one　recites　a　strain


of　Homer　you　wake　up　in　a　moment；　and　your　soul　leaps　within　you；


and　you　have　plenty　to　say；　for　not　by　art　or　knowledge　about　Homer　do


you　say　what　you　say；　but　by　divine　inspiration　and　by　possession；


just　as　the　Corybantian　revellers　too　have　a　quick　perception　of


that　strain　only　which　is　appropriated　to　the　God　by　whom　they　are


possessed；　and　have　plenty　of　dances　and　words　for　that；　but　take　no


heed　of　any　other。　And　you；　Ion；　when　the　name　of　Homer　is　mentioned


have　plenty　to　say；　and　have　nothing　to　say　of　others。　You　ask；　〃Why


is　this？〃　The　answer　is　that　you　praise　Homer　not　by　art　but　by　divine


inspiration。


　　Ion。　That　is　good；　Socrates；　and　yet　I　doubt　whether　you　will　ever


have　eloquence　enough　to　persuade　me　that　I　praise　Homer　only　when　I


am　mad　and　possessed；　and　if　you　could　hear　me　speak　of　him　I　am


sure　you　would　never　think　this　to　be　the　case。


　　Soc。　I　should　like　very　much　to　hear　you；　but　not　until　you　have


answered　a　question　which　I　have　to　ask。　On　what　part　of　Homer　do


you　speak　well？…　not　surely　about　every　part。


　　Ion。　There　is　no　part；　Socrates；　about　which　I　do　not　speak　well


of　that　I　can　assure　you。


　　Soc。　Surely　not　about　things　in　Homer　of　which　you　have　no


knowledge？


　　Ion。　And　what　is　there　in　Homer　of　which　I　have　no　knowledge？


　　Soc。　Why；　does　not　Homer　speak　in　many　passages　about　arts？　For


example；　about　driving；　if　I　can　only　remember　the　lines　I　will　repeat


them。


　　Ion。　I　remember；　and　will　repeat　them。


　　Soc。　Tell　me　then；　what　Nestor　says　to　Antilochus；　his　son；　where　he


bids　him　be　careful　of　the　turn　at　the　horse…race　in　honour　of


Patroclus。


　　Ion。　He　says：





　　Bend　gently　in　the　polished　chariot　to　the　left　of　them；　and　urge


the　horse　on　the　right　hand　with　whip　and　voice；　and　slacken　the　rein。


And　when　you　are　at　the　goal；　let　the　left　horse　draw　near；　yet　so


that　the　nave　of　the　well…wrought　wheel　may　not　even　seem　to　touch　the


extremity；　and　avoid　catching　the　stone。





　　Soc。　Enough。　Now；　Ion；　will　the　charioteer　or　the　physician　be　the


better　judge　of　the　propriety　of　these　lines？


　　Ion。　The　charioteer；　clearly。


　　Soc。　And　will　the　reason　be　that　this　is　his　art；　or　will　there　be


any　other　reason？


　　Ion。　No；　that　will　be　the　reason。


　　Soc。　And　every　art　is　appointed　by　God　to　have　knowledge　of　a


certain　work；　for　that　which　we　know　by　the　art　of　the　pilot　we　do　not


know　by　the　art　of　medicine？


　　Ion。　Certainly　not。


　　Soc。　Nor　do　we　know　by　the　art　of　the　carpenter　that　which　we　know


by　the　art　of　medicine？


　　Ion。　Certainly　not。


　　Soc。　And　this　is　true　of　all　the　arts；…　that　which　we　know　with


one　ar