Chairephon What is the cry,
Sokrates, that comes to us from the distant breakers on the headland yonder? How sweet it sounds! What
creature has such a note as that?
Surely the water-fowl are voiceless. Sokrates Nay, it is a sea-bird, Chairephon,
called the halcyon, full of plaints and tears, and
a legend about her has long been current among
men. They say that she was once a woman, the
daughter of Aiolos, son of Hellen, and married
to Ceyx the Trachinian, who was the son of the
Morning-star, fair son of a fair father. And
when her young husband died she mourned for
him, longing for his love. Then by some god's
will (they say) she took on the feathery guise of
a bird, and flits about the seas seeking him; for
she could not find him on the land, though she
searched the world over. Chairephon Is this, then, the halcyon? I had
never heard the note before, and it fell upon my
ear like something quite new.
Certainly the
How large a
creature sings a mournful song.
bird may it be, Sokrates?


 Sokrates Small, and yet her wifely love won
great honor from the gods; for in the nestingtime of these birds the world observes the "halcyon days," as they are called, which bring an
interval of fine weather in midwinter. To-day is
a perfect example of them. Do you not see how
clear the air is? and the expanse of sea, how
waveless and calm! Like a mirror, one might
say. Chairephon Yes; this certainly seems to be a
halcyon day, and yesterday was just such another.
But tell me, Sokrates, how in the name of the
gods can we possibly believe those old stories
that tell of birds changing into women or women
into birds? All those things seem to the last
degree impossible. Sokrates My dear Chairephon, I suspect that
we are altogether too dull of vision to judge of
the possible and the impossible; for we reason
according to our human ability, which cannot
know or see or be believed. And many things,
even easy ones, seem difficult to us, and accessible things seem out of reach, often because our
minds are inexperienced, and often, too, because
they are childish. For every man, even if he be
very old, seems like a child, since certainly our
life is a tiny thing, and short as childhood in
comparison with all time. And how, my friend,
can men, who are ignorant of the powers of the


 

gods and other divine beings, affirm whether any
such thing is possible or impossible? You saw,
Chairephon, what a storm there was three days
ago. It actually terrifies one even to recall those
flashes of lightning and peals of thunder and the
extraordinary violence of the wind. One would
have thought the whole world was on the eve of
dissolution. 
But presently there was a marvellous change, and the fine weather set in which
has lasted ever since. Now, which do you think
the greater and more laborious task-to bring
such clear weather out of that irresistible whirlwind and chaos, or to remodel a woman's shape
and make it into a bird's? Why, even human
children who understand modelling will often
take a bit of clay or wax, and easily fashion different shapes in succession from the same lump.
To the godhead, then, whose great superiority
over our powers is beyond comparison, all these
things are perhaps easy and without effort. For
by how much do you think the whole sky surpasses you in size? Will you tell me that? Chairephon What mortal, Sokrates, could think
or tell such a thing as that? It is not in our
power so much as to name it. Sokrates And do we not see, even in comparing
men with one another, great differences in ability? Compare, for instance, a man grown with
a young child five or ten days old. It is amazing


 



how they differ in their powers, for almost all the
actions of life, both those that are performed by
means of our ingenious arts and those of the
body and soul; for it seems impossible for them
to enter even into the mind of a child as young
as that.