Welcome, Ion. Where have you come from now, to pay us this visit? From your home in Ephesus?

No, no, Socrates; from Epidaurus and the festival there of Asclepius.

Do you mean to say that the Epidaurians honor the god with a contest of rhapsodes also?

Certainly, and of music Music with the Greeks included poetry. in general.

Why then, you were competing in some contest, were you? And how went your competition?

We carried off the first prize, Socrates.

Well done: so now, mind that we win too at the Panathenaea. The Athenian festival of the Great Panathenaea was held every fourth year, and the Small Panathenaea probably every year, about July.

Why, so we shall, God willing.

I must say I have often envied you rhapsodes, Ion, for your art: for besides that it is fitting to your art that your person should be adorned and that you should look as handsome as possible, the necessity of being conversant with a number of good poets, and especially with Homer, the best and divinest poet of all, and of apprehending his thought and not merely learning off his words, is a matter for envy; since a man can never be a good rhapsode without understanding what the poet says. For the rhapsode ought to make himself an interpreter of the poet’s thought to his audience; and to do this properly without knowing what the poet means is impossible. So one cannot but envy all this.

What you say is true, Socrates: I at any rate have found this the most laborious part of my art; and I consider I speak about Homer better than anybody, for neither Metrodorus A friend of the philosopher Anaxagoras who wrote allegorical interpretations of Homer in the first part of the fifth century B.C. of Lampsacus, nor Stesimbrotus A rhapsode, interpreter of Homer, and historian who lived in the time of Cimon and Pericles. of Thasos, nor Glaucon, Perhaps the Homeric commentator mentioned by Aristotle, Poet. 25. 16. nor any one that the world has ever seen, had so many and such fine comments to offer on Homer as I have.

That is good news, Ion; for obviously you will not grudge me an exhibition of them.

And indeed it is worth hearing, Socrates, how well I have embellished Homer; so that I think I deserve to be crowned with a golden crown by the Homeridae. There was a society or clan in Chios called Homeridae (sons of Homer), but the name seems to be used here and elsewhere in Plato for any persons specially devoted to Homer’s poetry. See Jebb, Homer, p. 78.

Yes, and I must find myself leisure some time to listen to you; but for the moment, please answer this little question: are you skilled in Homer only, or in Hesiod and Archilochus as well?

No, no, only in Homer; for that seems to me quite enough.

And is there anything on which Homer and Hesiod both say the same?

Yes, I think there are many such cases.

Then in those cases would you expound better what Homer says than what Hesiod says?

I should do it equally well in those cases, Socrates, where they say the same.

But what of those where they do not say the same? For example, about the seer’s art, on which both Homer and Hesiod say something.

Quite so.

Well then, would you, or one of the good seers, expound better what these two poets say, not only alike but differently, about the seer’s art?

One of the seers.

And if you were a seer, would you not, with an ability to expound what they say in agreement, know also how to expound the points on which they differ?

Of course.

Then how is it that you are skilled in Homer, and not in Hesiod or the other poets? Does Homer speak of any other than the very things that all the other poets speak of? Has he not described war for the most part, and the mutual intercourse of men, good and bad, lay and professional, and the ways of the gods in their intercourse with each other and with men, and happenings in the heavens and in the underworld, and origins of gods and heroes? Are not these the subjects of Homer’s poetry?

What you say is true, Socrates.

And what of the other poets? Do they not treat of the same things?

Yes; but, Socrates, not on Homer’s level.

What, in a worse way?

Far worse.

And Homer in a better?

Better indeed, I assure you.

Well now, Ion, dear soul; when several people are talking about number, and one of them speaks better than the rest, I suppose there is some one who will distinguish the good speaker?

I agree.

And will this some one be the same as he who can distinguish the bad speakers, or different?

The same, I suppose.

And he will be the man who has the art of numeration?

Yes.

And again, when several are talking about what kinds of foods are wholesome, and one of them speaks better than the rest, will it be for two different persons to distinguish the superiority of the best speaker and the inferiority of a worse one, or for the same?

Obviously, I should say, for the same.

Who is he? What is his name?

A doctor.

And so we may state, in general terms, that the same person will always distinguish, given the same subject and several persons talking about it, both who speaks well and who badly: otherwise, if he is not going to distinguish the bad speaker, clearly he will not distinguish the good one either, where the subject is the same.

That is so.

And the same man is found to be skilled in both?

Yes.

And you say that Homer and the other poets, among whom are Hesiod and Archilochus, all speak about the same things, only not similarly; but the one does it well, and the rest worse?

Yes, and what I say is true.

And since you distinguish the good speaker, you could distinguish also the inferiority of the worse speakers.

So it would seem.

Then, my excellent friend, we shall not be wrong in saying that our Ion is equally skilled in Homer and in the other poets, seeing that you yourself admit that the same man will be a competent judge of all who speak on the same things, and that practically all the poets treat of the same things.

Then what can be the reason, Socrates, why I pay no attention when somebody discusses any other poet, and am unable to offer any remark at all of any value, but simply drop into a doze, whereas if anyone mentions something connected with Homer I wake up at once and attend and have plenty to say?

That is not difficult to guess, my good friend; anyone can see that you are unable to speak on Homer with art and knowledge. For if you could do it with art, you could speak on all the other poets as well; since there is an art of poetry, I take it, as a whole, is there not?

Yes.

And when one has acquired any other art whatever as a whole, the same principle of inquiry holds through all the arts? Do you require some explanation from me, Ion, of what I mean by this?

Yes, upon my word, Socrates, I do; for I enjoy listening to you wise men.

I only wish you were right there, Ion: but surely it is you rhapsodes and actors, and the men whose poems you chant, who are wise; whereas I speak but the plain truth, as a simple layman might. For in regard to this question I asked you just now, observe what a trifling commonplace it was that I uttered—a thing that any man might know—namely, that when one has acquired a whole art the inquiry is the same. Let us just think it out thus: there is an art of painting as a whole?

Yes.

And there are and have been many painters, good and bad?

Certainly.

Now have you ever found anybody who is skilled in pointing out the successes and failures among the works of Polygnotus A celebrated painter who came 488 B. son of Aglaophon, but unable to do so with the works of the other painters; and who, when the works of the other painters are exhibited, drops into a doze, and is at a loss, and has no remark to offer; but when he has to pronounce upon Polygnotus or any other painter you please, and on that one only, wakes up and attends and has plenty to say?

No, on my honor, I certainly have not.

Or again, in sculpture, have you ever found anyone who is skilled in expounding the successes of Daedalus According to legend, the first sculptor: cf. Euthyphro 11, Meno 97 D. son of Metion, or Epeius The maker of the wooden horse at Troy (Homer, Od. 8.493). son of Panopeus, or Theodorus A metal-worker (Herodot. 1. 51, 3. 41). of Samos, or any other single sculptor, but in face of the works of the other sculptors is at a loss and dozes, having nothing to say?

No, on my honor, I have not found such a man as that either.

But further, I expect you have also failed to find one in fluting or harping or minstrelsy or rhapsodizing who is skilled in expounding the art of Olympus One of the mythical inventors of music: cf. Symp. 215 E. or Thamyras, A Thracian Bard. or Orpheus, A Thracian Bard. or Phemius, The minstrel who was forced to sing to the suitors of Penelope (Od 1. 154, 22. 330). the rhapsode of Ithaca, but is at a loss and has no remark to offer on the successes or failures in rhapsody of Ion of Ephesus.

I cannot gainsay you on that, Socrates: but of one thing I am conscious in myself—that I excel all men in speaking on Homer and have plenty to say, and everyone else says that I do it well; but on the others I am not a good speaker. Yet now, observe what that means.

I do observe it, Ion, and I am going to point out to you what I take it to mean. For, as I was saying just now, this is not an art in you, whereby you speak well on Homer, but a divine power, which moves you like that in the stone which Euripides named a magnet, Probably referring to Magnesia in Caria, south of which was one of the many places called Heraclea. Μαγνῆτις λίθος occurs in a fragment of Euripides’ Oeneus. but most people call Heraclea stone. For this stone not only attracts iron rings, but also imparts to them a power whereby they in turn are able to do the very same thing as the stone, and attract other rings; so that sometimes there is formed quite a long chain of bits of iron and rings, suspended one from another; and they all depend for this power on that one stone. In the same manner also the Muse inspires men herself, and then by means of these inspired persons the inspiration spreads to others, and holds them in a connected chain.

For all the good epic poets utter all those fine poems not from art, but as inspired and possessed, and the good lyric poets likewise; just as the Corybantian The Corybantes were priests of Cybele or Rhea, mother of Zeus and other Olympian gods, and she was worshipped with wild music and frenzied dancing which, like the bacchic revels or orgies of women in honor of Dionysus, carried away the participants despite and beyond themselves. Cf. Eurip. Bacchae. worshippers do not dance when in their senses, so the lyric poets do not indite those fine songs in their senses, but when they have started on the melody and rhythm they begin to be frantic, and it is under possession—as the bacchants are possessed, and not in their senses, when they draw honey and milk from the rivers—that the soul of the lyric poets does the same thing, by their own report. For the poets tell us, I believe, that the songs they bring us are the sweets they cull from honey-dropping founts in certain gardens and glades of the Muses—like the bees, and winging the air as these do. A beginning of this comparison appears in Aristophanes’ praise of the early tragedian Phrynichus—he sipped the fruits of ambrosial lays, ever bringing away sweet song.Aristoph. Birds 750f. And what they tell is true. For a poet is a light and winged and sacred thing, and is unable ever to indite until he has been inspired and put out of his senses, and his mind is no longer in him: every man, whilst he retains possession of that, is powerless to indite a verse or chant an oracle. Seeing then that it is not by art that they compose and utter so many fine things about the deeds of men— as you do about Homer—but by a divine dispensation, each is able only to compose that to which the Muse has stirred him, this man dithyrambs, another laudatory odes, another dance-songs, another epic or else iambic verse; but each is at fault in any other kind. For not by art do they utter these things, but by divine influence; since, if they had fully learnt by art to speak on one kind of theme, they would know how to speak on all. And for this reason God takes away the mind of these men and uses them as his ministers, just as he does soothsayers and godly seers, in order that we who hear them may know that it is not they who utter these words of great price, when they are out of their wits, but that it is God himself who speaks and addresses us through them. A convincing proof of what I say is the case of Tynnichus, Nothing else is known of this poet. the Chalcidian, who had never composed a single poem in his life that could deserve any mention, and then produced the paean A hymn in honor of a god, usually Apollo. which is in everyone’s mouth, almost the finest song we have, simply—as he says himself—an invention of the Muses. For the god, as it seems to me, intended him to be a sign to us that we should not waver or doubt that these fine poems are not human or the work of men, but divine and the work of gods; and that the poets are merely the interpreters of the gods, according as each is possessed by one of the heavenly powers. To show this forth, the god of set purpose sang the finest of songs through the meanest of poets: or do you not think my statement true, Ion?