Socrates in Plato’s Euthyphro, Gorgias and Cratylus, and in Aristophanes’ comedies

Euthyphro tells Socrates that he is pursuing his father for murder (phonou, Euth. 4a10). Socrates remarks: ‘I suppose that the man whom your father murdered was one of your family (Estin de dȇ tȏn oikeiȏn tis ho tethneȏs hupo tou sou patros) – clearly he was (ȇ dȇla dȇ); for if he had been a stranger you would never have thought of prosecuting him (ou gar an pou huper ge allotriou epexȇistha phonou autȏi, 4b4-6, tr. Jowett).’

Euthyphro finds it ridiculous (geloion, 4b7) that Socrates thinks it makes any difference whether the man who died was a member of a family or no. Geloion is a strong word, especially considering the given situation; prosecuting one’s own father for murder was no laughing matter. Can we find anywhere any ground or justification for Euthyphro’s qualification of Socrates’ remark as ‘ridiculous’?

In the Gorgias Socrates discusses rhetoric with Polus, a disciple of Gorgias, the most famous teacher of rhetoric. Socrates: ‘What is the great use of rhetoric, Polus (ȏ Pȏle, tis hȇ megalȇ chreia estin tȇs rȇtorikȇs)? For in fact from what has been agreed now a man should most of all take care for himself so that he doesn’t do injustice (dei men gar dȇ ek tȏn nun hȏmologȇmenȏn auton heauton malista phulattein hopȏs mȇ adikȇsei), knowing that he will have a great enough evil if he does (hȏs hikanon kakon hexonta) … And if he or whoever else he cares about does do injustice (Ean de ge adikȇsȇi ȇ autos ȇ allos tis hȏn an kȇdȇtai), he should go voluntarily (auton hekonta ienai) wherever (ekeise hopou) he will pay justice as quickly as possible (hȏs tachista dȏsei dikȇn), to the court of justice (para ton dikastȇn) as to the doctor (hȏsper para ton iatron), eager to prevent the disease of injustice from being chronic (speudonta hopȏs mȇ enchronisthen to nosȇma tȇs adikias) and making his soul festering (hupoulon tȇn psuchȇn poiȇsei) and incurable (kai aniaton). (480a1-b2) … Then for someone’s defence for his own injustice (Epi men ara to apologeisthai huper tȇs adikias tȇs hautou), or when his parents (ȇ goneȏn) or his friends (ȇ hetairȏn) or his children (ȇ paidȏn) or his native state do injustice (ȇ patridos adikousȇs), rhetoric is of no use at all to us (ou chrȇsimos ouden hȇ rȇtorikȇ hȇmin), Polus (ȏ Pȏle), unless someone supposes it is useful for the opposite purpose (ei mȇ ei tis hupolaboi epi tounantion) – that he should denounce most of all himself (katȇgorein dein malista men heautou), then his relatives (epeita de kai tȏn oikeiȏn), and whatever other friend does injustice (kai tȏn allȏn hos an aei tȏn philȏn tunchanȇi adikȏn); and should not conceal the unjust action, but bring it into the open (kai mȇ apokruptesthai all’ eis to phaneron agein to adikȇma), to pay justice (hina dȏi dikȇn) and to become healthy (kai hugiȇs genȇtai); and compel himself (anankazein te hauton) and others (kai tous allous) not to shrink in cowardice (mȇ apodeilian), but to close their eyes and offer themselves well and bravely (alla parechein musanta eu kai andreiȏs), as though to the doctor for cutting and burning (hȏsper temnein kai kaein iatrȏi); he should pursue the good and fine (to agathon kai kalon diȏkonta), not counting the pain (mȇ hupologizonta to algeinon), but offer oneself for flogging, if his unjust action deserves flogging (ean men ge plȇgȏn axia ȇdikȇkȏs ȇi, tuptein parechonta), for prison, if it deserves prison (ean desmou, dein), paying a fine, if it deserves a fine (ean de zȇmias, apotinonta), [for exile, if it deserves exile as punishment, J.T.] (ean de phugȇs, pheugonta), accepting death, if it deserves death (ean de thanatou, apothnȇiskonta); he should himself be the first denouncer (auton prȏton einai katȇgoron) of himself (kai hautou) and of the rest of his relatives (kai tȏn allȏn oikeiȏn), and use his rhetoric for this (kai epi touto chrȏmenon tȇi rȇtorikȇi), to have his [their, J.T.] unjust actions exposed and get rid of the greatest evil (hopȏs an katadȇlȏn tȏn adikȇmatȏn gignomenȏn apallattȏntai tou megistou kakou), injustice (adikias).’ (480b7-d7, tr. Terence Irwin)

If this view can be ascribed to the historical Socrates, then Euthyphro’s finding it ridiculous (geloion, 4b7) that Socrates thinks it makes any difference whether the man who died was a member of a family or no is fully understandable. But there are many Platonic scholars who find Socrates in all Plato’s dialogues just an invention of Plato – I believe I remember Gilbert Ryle in his Plato’s Progress arguing that even the trial in the Apology is in fact Plato’s trial poetically transformed, but I cannot vouch for it; I read it some thirty five years ago – and would therefore reject Euthyphro’s words as a relevant testimony concerning the question of the Socratic or Platonic provenance of the sentiments pronounced in the Gorgias, and  vice versa.

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Callicles, one of Socrates’ main interlocutors in the Gorgias, complains: ‘Ah, you’re always saying the same (Hȏs aei t’auta legeis), Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates)’. – Socrates replies: ‘Not only that (Ou monon ge), Callicles (ȏ Kallikleis), but about the same things too (alla kai peri tȏn autȏn).’ (490e9-11, tr. Irwin) For this exchange we can find a good parallel in Xenophon’s Memorabilia: ‘Hippias, who had not been in Athens for a considerable time (dia chronou gar aphikomenos ho Hippias Athȇnaze), found Socrates talking (paregeneto tȏi Sȏkratei legonti pros tinas) peri justice (peri tou dikaiou): ‘“How now?” he cried in a tone of raillery, ”still the same old sentiments, Socrates (hȏsper episkȏptȏn auton, Eti gar su, ephȇ, ȏ Sȏkrates, ekeina ta auta legeis), that I heard from you so long ago (ha egȏ palai pote sou ȇkousa)?” – Socrates: ‘Yes, Hippias, always the same, and – what is more astonishing – on the same topics too (Ho de ge toutou deinoteron, ȏ Hippia, ou monon ta auta legȏ, alla kai peri tȏn autȏn)!”’ (IV.iv. 5-6, tr. Marchant)

The problem with this striking parallel is that ‘the things’ about which Socrates ‘says the same things’ are not the same in these two instances. For in Xenophon’s Memorabilia ‘Hippias found Socrates saying (ho Hippias paregeneto tȏi Sȏkratei legonti pros tinas) that if you want to have a man taught cobbling or building or smithing or riding, you know where to send him to learn the craft. And yet, strangely enough (hȏs thaumaston eiȇ to ei men tis bouloito skutea didaxasthai tina ȇ tektona ȇ chalkea ȇ hippea, mȇ aporein, hopoi an pempsas toutou tuchoi) if you want to learn Justice yourself (ean de tis boulȇtai ȇ autos mathein to diakion), or to have your son (ȇ huion) or servant (ȇ oiketȇn) taught it (didaxasthai), you know not (mȇ eidenai) where to go for a teacher (hopoi an elthȏn tuchoi an toutou).’ (IV.iv. 5, tr. Marchant)

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When Socrates in the Gorgias said to Polus the words quoted earlier, Callicles asked Chaerephon whether Socrates was in earnest about all this (spoudazei tauta Sȏkratȇs), or joking (ȇ paizei, 481b6-7); Chaerephon replied that to him he seemed to be remarkably in earnest (huperphuȏs spoudazein, 481b8-9).

Aristophanes can help us understand why Callicles turned to Chaerephon at that point, and why Chaerephon replied as he did.

In Aristophanes’ Clouds Chaerephon figures as Socrates’ model follower. When Strepsiades wants to send his son, Pheidippides to the ‘wise souls’s House-of-thinking’ (psuchȏn sophȏn phrontistȇrion, 94), his son asks: ‘Who are they (eisi de tines, 100)?’ His father does not know their names, the only thing he can tell his son is that they are ‘refined thinkers fine and good’ (merimnophrontistai kaloi te k’agathoi, 101). The moment he says it, Pheidippides knows: ‘you speak of those who go barefoot, those among whom are the miserable Socrates and Chaerephon’ (tous anupodȇtous legeis, hȏn ho kakodaimȏn Sȏkratȇs kai Chairephȏn, 103-4). The story concerning the measurement of a flies jump, which a disciple of Socrates tells Strepsiades as he is entering the Phrontistȇrion is about Socrates and Chaerephon: ‘Recently Socrates asked Chaerephon … (anȇret’ arti Chairephȏnta Sȏkratȇs, 144 ff.).’ Then Strepsiades asks Socrates: ‘If I am going to study hard and with diligence (ȇn epimelȇs ȏ kai prothumȏs manthanȏ, 501), to whom of the disciples I shall become similar (tȏi tȏn mathȇtȏn empherȇs genȇsomai, 502)?’ – Socrates: ‘In your nature you won’t differ from Chaerephon in any way’ (ouden dioiseis Chairephȏntos tȇn phusin, 503).

In the Wasps the drunken Philocleon blunders onto the market, hits a woman selling bread and destroys her bread worth 10 obols, and her other stuff worth four obols (1390-1). In addition to this damage, he laughs at her. The bread-seller woman: ‘And you laugh at me (kai katagelais mou)? I summon you, whoever you are (proskaloumai s’ hostis ei), to the clerks of the market (pros tous agoranomous), charging you with the damage to my goods (blabȇs tȏn phortiȏn); Chaerephon here will be my summoner (klȇtȇr’ echousa Chairephȏnta toutoni, 1404-7).’ Obviously, Chaerephon used to intercede in such cases and make sure that justice be done.

In the Birds Socrates guides the souls (psuchagȏgei Sȏkratȇs, 1555) to the underworld. Peisander comes to him, ‘wanting to see his soul (deomenos psuchȇn idein); while he stayed alive, his soul had left him’ (hȇ zȏnt’ ekeinon proulipe) – he was laughed at in comedy for his cowardice. Peisandrus made his offering like Odysseus (in the underworld, in the Odyssey) and towards the offering came up from the underworld ‘Chaerephon the bat’ (Chairephȏn hȇ nukteris, 1556-1564). In 415, a year before the Birds were staged, Peisander took a principal part in the investigation into the mutilation of the Hermae: under the influence of Socrates Peisander turned into Chaerephon. This does not necessarily mean that in Aristophanes’ view there was any special relationship between Socrates and Peisander, for at Birds 1282 the herald from Athens reports that prior to the building of the ‘City of birds in the clouds’ (Nephelokokkugia, 819) everybody imitated Socrates (hapantes esȏkratoun, 1281-2).

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Socrates in Plato’s Gorgias and in Aristophanes helps us understand why Euthyphro finds it ‘ridiculous’ that Socrates thinks that it makes any difference whether the man who died was a member of a family or no; one’s duty is – as Euthyphro sees it, and as he has expected Socrates to see it – to prosecute for murder the man responsible for that man’s death, whoever he may be.

But what was it then about Socrates that made Euthyphro confident that Socrates did not come to the Porch of the King to prosecute anybody? Euthyphro: ‘Surely you cannot be concerned in a suit before the King, like myself (ou gar pou kai soi ge dikȇ tis ousa tunchanei pros ton basilea hȏsper emoi)?’ … I suppose that someone has been prosecuting you (graphȇn se tis, hȏs eoike, gegraptai), for I cannot believe that you are a prosecutor of another (ou gar ekeino ge katagnȏsomai, hȏs su heteron).’ (2a3-b2, tr. Jowett) In the Apology Socrates says: ‘I am more than seventy years of age, and appearing now for the first time before a court of law (nun egȏ prȏton epi dikastȇrion anabebȇka, etȇ gegonȏs hebdomȇkonta), I am quite a stranger to the language of the place (atechnȏs oun xenȏs echȏ tȇs enthade lexeȏs)’. Socrates’ aversion to court proceedings were obviously well known. But how can this fact be squared with Socrates’ words in the Gorgias, quoted above? The answer lies, in my view, in Socrates’ philosophical ignorance, and the Euthyphro is a good dialogue in which we can get a notion of it.

When Euthyphro says that he is prosecuting his father (4a6) for murder (4a10), Socrates does not say that it is wrong for him to do so. Instead, he asks Euthyphro whether he thinks his knowledge of religion and of things pious and impious is so very exact, that under the circumstances as he has stated them, he is not afraid that he too may be doing an impious thing in bringing an action against his father. When Euthyphro replies that he is certain he has exact knowledge of such matters (4e4-5a1), Socrates says the best for himself would be to become his disciple (moi kratiston esti mathȇtȇi sȏi genesthai), for he was always eager to learn all he could about gods (kai en tȏi emprosthen chronȏi ta theia peri pollou epoioumȇn eidenai), and especially now, facing Meletus’ allegations (5a).

Socrates admits that he himself does not know what piety and impiety is, but he knows what questions to ask, which, if Euthyphro really knows all about religious duty as he claims, he must be able to answer: ‘And therefore, I adjure you to tell me (nun oun pros Dios lege moi) the nature of piety and impiety, which you said you know so well (ho nundȇ saphȏs eidenai diischurizou, poion ti to eusebes phȇis einai kai to asebes), in their bearing on murder (kai peri phonou) and generally on offences against the gods (kai peri tȏn allȏn). Is not piety in every action always the same (ȇ ou t’auton estin en pasȇi praxei to hosion auto hautȏi)? and impiety (kai to men anosion), again (au) – is it not always the opposite of piety (tou men hosiou pantos enantion), and also the same with itself (auto de hautȏi homoion), having, as impiety, one notion or form (kai echon mian tina idean kata tȇn anosiotȇta) which includes whatever is impious (pan hotiper an mellȇi anosion einai)?’ – Euthyphro: ‘To be sure (Pantȏs dȇpou), Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates).’ – Socrates: ‘And what is piety, and what is impiety?’ (Lege dȇ, ti phȇis einai to hosion kai ti to anosion, 5d6-7) – Euthyphro: ‘Piety is (to men hosion estin) doing what I am doing (hoper egȏ nun poiȏ); that is to say, prosecuting anyone who is guilty of murder, sacrilege, or of any similar crime (tȏi adikounti ȇ peri phonous ȇ peri hierȏn klopas ȇ ti allo tȏn toioutȏn examartanonti epexienai) – whether he be your father or mother, or whoever he may be – that makes no difference (eante patȇr ȏn tunchanȇi eante mȇtȇr eante allos hostisoun); and not to prosecute them is impiety (to de mȇ epexienai anosion).’ (5c8-e2, tr. Jowett) As a proof of this, he points to Zeus, ‘the best and most righteous of the gods’ (tȏn theȏn ariston kai dikaiotaton), who bound his father Cronus because he wickedly devoured his sons (5e-6a), and to Cronus who ‘castrated his father’ (ton hautou patera ektemein) Uranus ‘for similar reasons’ (di’ hetera toiauta, 6a2-3).

In response, Socrates does not say that such stories about the gods are wrong, he remarks that he ‘cannot away with such stories’, (as Jowett renders Socrates’ duscherȏs pȏs apodechomai (6a8), LSJ suggesting the Latin aegre ferre), yet at that point he bows to Euthyphro’s superior wisdom about gods – ‘What else can I say (ti gar kai phȇsomen), confessing as I do (hoi ge kai autoi homologoumen), that I know nothing about them (peri autȏn mȇden eidenai, 6b2-3, tr. Jowett).’ He nevertheless points out that Euthyphro did not answer his question: ‘Remember (Memnȇsai oun) that I did not ask you (hoti ou touto soi diekeleuomȇn) to give me two or three examples of piety (hen ti ȇ duo me didaxai tȏn pollȏn hosiȏn), but to explain the general form (all’ ekeino auto to eidos) which makes all pious things to be pious (hȏi panta ta hosia hosia esti) … Tell me what is the nature of this form (Tautȇn toinun me autȇn didaxon tȇn idean tis pote estin), and then I shall have a standard to which I may look (hina eis ekeinȇn apoblepȏn kai chrȏmenos autȇi paradeigmati), and by which I may measure actions, whether yours or those of anyone else, and then I shall be able to say that such and such an action is pious (ho men an toiouton ȇi hȏn an ȇ su ȇ allos tis prattȇi phȏ hosion einai), such another impious (ho d’ an mȇ toiouton, mȇ phȏ).’ (6d9-e6, tr. Jowett) – Euthyphro accepts Socrates’ request: ‘I will tell you, if you like (All’ ei touto boulei, ȏ Sȏkrates, kai houtȏ soi phrasȏ, 6e7-8, tr. Jowett)’ – but all his subsequent attempts to do so turn to be faulty.

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Thus Euthyphro says: ‘I should say (all’ egȏge phaiȇn an) that what all the gods love is pious and holy (touto einai to hosion ho an pantes hoi theoi philȏsin), and the opposite (kai to enantion) which they all hate (ho an pantes theoi misȏsin), impious (anosion).’ – Socrates: ‘Ought we to inquire into the truth of this, Euthyphro (Oukoun episkopȏmen au touto, ȏ Euthuphrȏn, ei kalȏs legetai), or simply to accept it on our own authority and that of others – echoing mere assertions? What do you say (ȇ eȏmen kai houtȏ hȇmȏn te autȏn apodechȏmetha kai tȏn allȏn, ean monon phȇi tis ti echein houtȏ sunchȏrountes echein; ȇ skepteon ti legei ho legȏn)?’ (9e1-7, tr. Jowett)

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In Aristophanes’ Clouds Strepsiades admires his son after he had been schooled in Socrates’ House-of-thinking: ‘Now you look (nun men g’ idein ei), in the first place (prȏton), to be apt at denying (exarnȇtikos), disputatious (k’antilogikos), and this (kai touto), which is typical of the place (t’oupichȏrion), is simply blossoming on your face (atechnȏs epanthei): ‘what do you say (ti legeis su)?’.’ (1172-4)

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In the Euthyphro Socrates’ ‘what does the speaker say’ (ti legei ho legȏn) introduces the most demanding section of the dialogue. Euth. ‘We should inquire (Skepteon) and I believe that the statement will stand the test of inquiry (oimai mentoi egȏge touto nuni kalȏs legesthai).’ – Soc. ‘We shall soon be better able to say, my good friend (Tach’, ȏ’gathe, beltion eisometha). The point which I should first wish to understand is (ennoȇson gar to toionde) whether the pious or holy (ara to hosion) is beloved by the gods because it is holy (hoti hosion esti phileitai hupo tȏn theȏn), or holy because it is beloved by the gods (ȇ hoti phileitai hosion esti).’ – Euth. ‘I don’t understand your meaning (Ouk oid’ hoti legeis), Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates).’ – Soc. ‘I will endeavour to explain (All’ egȏ peirasomai saphesteron phrasai): we speak of carrying and we speak of being carried (legomen ti pheromenon kai pheron), of leading and being led (kai agomenon kai agon), seeing and being seen (kai horȏmenon kai horȏn). You know that in all such cases there is a difference (kai panta ta toiauta manthaneis hoti hetera allȇlȏn esti), and you know also in what the difference lies (kai hȇi hetera)?’ – Euth. ‘I think that I understand (Egȏge moi dokȏ manthanein).’ – Soc. ‘And is not that which is beloved distinct from that which loves (Oukoun kai philoumenon ti esti kai toutou heteron to philoun)?’ – Euth. ‘Certainly (Pȏs gar ou).’ – Soc. ‘Well; and now tell me (Lege dȇ moi), is that which is carried in this state of carrying because it is carried (poteron to pheromenon dioti pheretai pheromenon estin), or for some other reason (ȇ di allo ti)? – Euth. ‘No; that is the reason (Ouk, alla dia touto).’ (9e8-10b3) … Soc. ‘Is not that which is loved (Oukoun kai to philoumenon) in some state either of becoming or suffering (ȇ gignomenon ti estin ȇ paschon ti hupo tou)?’ – Euth. ‘Yes (Panu ge).’ – Soc. ‘And the same holds as in the previous instances (Kai touto ara houtȏs echei hȏsper ta protera); the state of being loved follows the act of being loved, and not the act the state (ouch hoti philoumenon estin phileitai hupo hȏn phileitai, all’ hoti phileitai philoumenon).’ – Euth. ‘Certainly (Anankȇ).’ – Soc. ‘And what do you say of piety (Ti dȇ oun legomen peri tou hosiou), Euthyphro (ȏ Euthuphrȏn); is not piety, according to your definition, loved by all the gods (allo ti phileitai hupo theȏn pantȏn hȏs ho sos logos)?’ – Euth. ‘Yes (Nai).’ (10c6-d3) … Soc. ‘It is loved because it is holy (Dioti ara hosion estin phileitai), not holy because it is loved (all’ ouch hoti phileitai, dia touto hosion estin)?’ – Euth. ‘Apparently (Eoiken).’ – Soc. ‘And it [i.e. ‘that-which-is-loved-by-gods’, J.T.) is the object of god’s love, and is dear to them, because it is loved of them (Alla men dȇ dioti phileitai hupo theȏn philoumenon esti kai theophiles – ‘But because it is loved by gods it is loved and loved-by-them’, J.T.)?’ – Euth. ‘Certainly (Pȏs gar ou).’ – Soc. ‘Then that which is dear to the gods, Euthyphro, is not holy (Ouk ara to theophiles hosion estin, ȏ Euthuphrȏn), nor is that which is holy dear to the gods (oude to hosion theophiles), as you affirm (hȏs su legeis); but they are two different things (all’ heteron touto toutou).’ – Euth. ‘How do you mean (Pȏs dȇ), Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates)?’ – Soc. ‘I mean to say that the holy has been acknowledged by us to be loved (Hoti homologoumen to men hosion dia touto phileisthai) because it is holy (hoti hosion estin), not to be holy because it is loved (all’ ou dioti phileitai hosion einaii, ȇ gar.’ – Euth. ‘Yes (Nai).’ – Soc. ‘But that which is dear to the gods (To de ge theophiles) is dear to them because it is loved by them (hoti phileitai hupo theȏn, autȏi toutȏi tȏi phileisthai theophiles einai), not loved by them because it is dear to them (all’ ouch hoti theophiles, dia touto phileisthai).’ Euth. ‘True (Alȇthȇ legeis).’ – Soc. ‘But, friend Euthyphro, if that which is holy were the same with that which is dear to the gods (All’ ei ge t’auton ȇn, ȏ phile Euthuphrȏn, to theophiles kai to hosion), and were loved because it is holy (ei men dia to hosion einai ephileito to hosion), then that which is dear to the gods would be loved as being dear to them (kai dia to theophiles einai ephileito an to theophiles); but if that which is dear to them were dear to them because loved by them (ei de dia to phileisthai hupo theȏn to theophiles theophiles ȇn), then that which is holy would be holy because loved by them (kai to hosion an dia to phileisthai hosion ȇn). But now you see that the reverse is the case (nun de horais hoti enantiȏs echeton), and that the two things are quite different from one another (hȏs pantapasin heterȏ onte allȇlȏn). For one is of a kind to be loved because it is loved (to men gar, hoti phileitai, estin hoion phileisthai), and the other is loved because it is of a kind to be loved (to d’ hoti estin hoion phileisthai, dia touto phileitai). Thus you appear to me (kai kinduneueis), Euthyphro (ȏ Euthyphrȏn), when I ask you what is the nature of holiness (erȏtȏmenos to hosion hoti pot’ estin), to offer an attribute only, and not the essence (tȇn men ousian moi autou ou boulesthai dȇlȏsai, pathos de ti peri autou legein) – the attribute of being loved by all the gods (hoti peponthe touto to hosion, phileisthai hupo pantȏn theȏn). But you still do not explain to me the nature of holiness (hoti de on, oupȏ eipes).’ … Euth. ‘I really do not know, Socrates, how to express what I mean (All’, ȏ Sȏkrates, ouk echȏ egȏge hopȏs soi eipȏ ho noȏ). For somehow or other the definitions we propound, on whatever basis we rest them, seem always to turn round and walk away from us (perierchetai gar pȏs hȇmin aei ho an prothȏmetha kai ouk ethelei menein hopou an hidrusȏmetha auto).’ (11b6-8, tr. Jowett)

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What makes the dialogue important and fascinating is the urgency that Socrates’ question concerning the standard to which one may look and measure actions, whether Euthyphro’s or anyone else’s, derives from his acute awareness of the particular circumstances of the given case. This aspect of the dialogue comes to the fore in Socrates’ final appeal, when Euthyphro with his definitions has gone the full circle, again defining what is loved by gods as holy: ‘Then we must begin again and ask (Ex archȇs ara hȇmin palin skepteon), What is piety (ti esti to hosion)? That is an inquiry which I shall never be weary of pursuing as far as in me lies (hȏs egȏ prin an mathȏ hekȏn einai ouk apodeiliasȏ); and I entreat you not to scorn me (alla mȇ me atimasȇis), but to apply your mind to the utmost (alla panti tropȏi prosschȏn ton noun hoti malista), and tell me the truth (nun eipe tȇn alȇtheian). For, if any man knows, you are he (oistha gar eiper tis allos anthrȏpȏn); and therefore I must hold you fast (kai ouk apheteos ei), like Proteus (hȏsper ho Prȏteus), until you tell (prin an eipȇis). If you had not certainly known (ei gar mȇ ȇidȇstha saphȏs) the nature of piety (to te hosion) and impiety (kai to anosion), I am confident that you would never (ouk estin hopȏs an pote), on behalf of a serf, have charged your aged father with murder (epecheirȇsas huper andros thȇtou andra presbutȇn patera diȏkathein phonou). You would not have run such a risk of doing wrong in the sight of the gods, and you would have had too much respect for the opinion of men (alla kai tous theous an edeisas parakinduneuein mȇ ouk orthȏs auto poiȇsois, kai tous anthrȏpous ȇischunthȇs). I am sure, therefore (nun de eu oida), that you know [‘that you think you know clearly’, J.T.] the nature of piety and impiety (hoti saphȏs oiei eidenai to te hosion kai mȇ). Speak out then (eipe oun), my dear Euthyphro (ȏ beltiste Euthuphrȏn), and do not hide (kai mȇ apokrupsȇi) your knowledge (hoti auto hȇgȇi [‘what you think it is’]).’ (15c11-e2, tr. Jowett)

But Euthyphro has had enough for the moment; he obviously can’t think of any better answer than those answers that he has given to Socrates, and which proved to be wanting: ‘Another time (Eis authis toinun), Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates); for I am in a hurry (nun gar speudȏ poi), and must go now (kai moi hȏra apienai).’ (15e3-4)

Socrates doesn’t seem to have taken Euthyphro’s ‘another time’ as seriously meant, for he concludes the discussion with the words: ‘Alas! My friend, and will you leave me in despair (Hoia poieis, ȏ hetaire, ap’ elpidos me katabalȏn megalȇs aperchȇi hȇn eichon)? I was hoping that you would instruct me in the nature of piety and impiety (hȏs para sou mathȏn ta te hosia kai mȇ); and then I might have cleared myself of Meletus and his indictment (kai tȇs pros Melȇon graphȇs apallaxomai). I would have told him that I had been enlightened by Euthyphro (endeixamenos ekeinȏi hoti sophos ȇdȇ par’ Euthyphronos ta theia gegona), and had given up rash innovations and speculations in which I indulged only through ignorance (kai hoti ouk eti hup’ agnoias autoschediazȏ oude kainotomȏ peri auta), and that now I am about to lead a better life (kai dȇ kai ton allon bion hoti ameinon biȏsoimȇn.’ (15e5-16a4, tr. Jowett)

***

I believe that when Plato wrote these words, he too was convinced that Euthyphro’s ‘another time’ were just empty words, and that he wrote the Euthyphro before the early morning discussion between Socrates and Euthyphro, to which Socrates refers in the Cratylus, took place.

***

Euthyphro is not the only one to suggest that they meet ‘another time’. Earlier in the dialogue, when Euthyphro maintained that in prosecuting his father he was following Zeus who bound his father Cronus for devouring his sons and thus trespassing against justice (hoti tous huieis katepinen ouk en dikȇi, 6a1-2), and pointed to Cronus who castrated his father Uranus for similar misdeeds (di’ hetera toiauta, 6a3), Socrates asked: ‘Tell me (alla moi eipe), for the love of Zeus (pros Philiou), whether you really believe that they [i.e. those stories, J.T.] are true (su hȏs alȇthȏs hȇgȇi tauta houtȏs gegonenai)?’ – Eut. ‘Yes, Socrates; and things more wonderful still (Kai eti toutȏn thaumasiȏtera, ȏ Sȏkrates), of which the world is in ignorance (ha hoi polloi ouk isasin).’ – Soc. ‘And do you really believe that the gods fought with one another (Kai polemon ara hȇgȇi su einai tȏi onti en tois theois pros allȇlous), and had dire quarrels (kai echtras ge deinas), battles (kai machas), and the like (kai alla toiauta polla), as the poets say (hoia legetai te hupo tȏn poiȇtȏn), and as you see represented in the works of great artists? The temples are full of them; and notably the robe of Athene, which is carried up to the Acropolis at the great Panathenaea, is embroidered with them throughout (kai hupo tȏn agathȏn grapheȏn ta te alla hiera katapepoikiltai, kai dȇ kai tois megalois Panathȇnaiois ho peplos mestos tȏn toioutȏn poikilmatȏn anagetai eis tȇn akropolin). Are all these tales of the gods true (tauta alȇthȇ phȏmen einai), Euthyphro (ȏ Euthuphrȏn)?’ – Eut. ‘Yes, Socrates (Mȇ monon ge, ȏ Sȏkrates); and as I was saying (all’ hoper arti eipon), I can tell you, if you would like to hear them, many other things about the gods (kai alla soi egȏ polla, eanper boulȇi, peri tȏn theiȏn diȇgȇsomai) which would quite amaze you (ha su akouȏn eu oid’ hoti ekplagȇsȇi).’ – Soc. ‘I dare say (Ouk an thaumazoimi); and you shall tell me them at some other time when I have leisure (alla tauta men moi eis authis epi scholȇs diȇgȇsȇi).’

And so they met again, as Socrates speaks of it in the Cratylus. Having explored the correctness of the names given to Zeus, Cronus, and Uranus, Socrates said: ‘If I could remember (ei de ememnȇmȇn) the genealogy of Hesiod (tȇn Hȇsiodou genealogian), I would have gone on and tried more conclusions of the same sort on the remoter ancestors of the gods (tinas eti tous anȏterȏ progonous legei toutȏn, ouk an epauomȇn diexiȏn hȏs orthȏs autois ta onomata keitai), – 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 (heȏs apepeirathȇn tȇs sophias tautȇsi ti poiȇsei, ei ara aperei ȇ ou, hȇ emoi exaiphnȇs nun houtȏsi prospeptȏken arti ouk oid’ hopothen).’ – Hermogenes: ‘You seem to me, Socrates, to be quite like a prophet newly inspired, and to be uttering oracles (Kai men dȇ, ȏ Sȏkrates, atechnȏs ge moi dokeis hȏsper hoi enthousiȏntes exaiphnȇs chrȇsmȏidein).’ – Soc. ‘Yes, Hermogenes, and I believe that I caught the inspiration from the great Euthyphro of the Prospaltian deme (Kai aitiȏmai ge, ȏ Hermogenes, malista autȇn apo Euthuphronos tou Prospaltiou prospeptȏkenai moi), who gave me a great lecture which commenced at dawn: he talked and I listened (heȏthen gar polla autȏi sunȇ kai pareichon ta ȏta), and his wisdom and enchanting ravishment has not only filled my ears (kinduneuei oun enthousiȏn ou monon ta ȏta mou emplȇsai tȇs daimonias sophias) but taken possession of my soul (alla kai tȇs psuchȇs epeilȇphthai).’ (396c3-397d8)

Socrates in Aristophanes’ Clouds, in Xenophon’s Memorabilia, and in Plato’s Euthyphro

In Aristophanes’ Clouds, oppressed by his debts and unwilling to pay them, Strepsiades sends his son to Socrates’ House-of-thinking (phrontistȇrion, 94) to learn the ‘just’/the ‘stronger’ and the ‘unjust’/the ‘weaker’ argument, in the hope that with the help of his son’s newly acquired oratory he would win any court proceedings raised against him. The day of reckoning is approaching, the creditors are determined to take him to court. He knocks on the door of Socrates’ House-of-thinking, and asks Socrates: ‘tell me whether my son has learnt the argument you newly brought in’ (kai moi ton huion ei memathȇke ton logon ekeinon eiph’ hon artiȏs eisȇgages, 1148-9). – Socrates: ‘He has learnt it (memathȇken) so that you would win any lawsuit’ (hȏst’ apophugois an hȇntin’ an boulȇi dikȇn, 1151). Happy, he takes his son home and spurns his creditors. The chorus of Clouds predicts that on that very day (tȇmeron, 1307) he will pay dearly for his wrongdoings.

As soon as the chorus ends the song, Strepsiades runs on the stage: ‘Ahh Ahh (iou iou), Oh neighbours (ȏ geitones), and relatives (kai xungeneis), and fellow-commoners (kai dȇmotai), come to my help, defend me as fast as you can against the blows I’m getting (amunathete moi tuptomenȏi pasȇ technȇi); poor me (oimoi kakodaimȏn), my head (tȇs kepahlȇs), and my jaw (kai tȇs gnathou).’ Turning to his son: ‘You scoundrel (ȏ miare), you beat your father (tupteis ton patera)?’ – Pheidippides: ‘Yes, I do, my father (phȇm’ ȏ pater)’ – Strepsiades: ‘You see, he admits that he is beating me (horath’ homologounth’ hoti me tuptei).’ – Phe. ‘Very much so (kai mala).’

In the ensuing discussion Pheidippides defends his right to chastise his father, and his mother. (1327-1446)

***

Xenophon writes in his Memorabilia: ‘“But (Alla),” said his accuser, “Socrates (Sȏkratȇs g’, ephȇ ho katȇgoros) taught sons to treat their fathers with contempt (tous pateras propȇlakizein edidaske): he persuaded them that he made his companions wiser than their fathers (peithȏn men tous sunontas heautȏi sophȏterous poiein tȏn paterȏn, I.ii.49, tr. E. C. Marchant)”

***

Plato’s Euthyphro opens with Euthyphro addressing Socrates: ‘What can have happened (ti neȏteron), Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates), to bring you away from the Lyceum (hoti su tas en Lukeiȏi katalipȏn diatribas)? And what are you doing in the Porch of the King Archon (enthade nun diatribeis peri tȇn tou basileȏs stoan)? Surely you cannot be concerned in a suit before the King, like myself (ou gar pou kai soi ge dikȇ tis ousa tunchanei pros ton basilea hȏsper emoi)?’ – Socrates: ‘Not in a suit, Euthyphro; prosecution is the word which the Athenians use (Outoi dȇ Athȇnaioi ge, ȏ Euthuphrȏn, dikȇn autȇn kalousin alla graphȇn).’ – Euthyphro: ‘What (ti phȇis)! I suppose that someone has been prosecuting you (graphȇn se tis, hȏs eoike, gegraptai), for I cannot believe that you are a prosecutor of another (ou gar ekeino ge katagnȏsomai, hȏs su heteron).’ (2a1-b2, translations are Jowett’s.) As can be seen, Euthyphro knows a lot about Socrates; he knows that he normally spends his time in Lyceum, a gymnasium, in discussions with his friends, – for this is what the word diatribai means concerning Socrates; he cannot believe that Socrates would prosecute another.

To Euthyphro’s question, who is the accuser, and what is the accusation, Socrates answers: ‘A young man who is little known, Euthyphro; and I hardly know him: his name is Meletus (Oud’ autos panu ti gignȏskȏ, ȏ Euthyphrȏn, ton andra, neos gar tis moi phainetai kai agnȏs, onomazousi mentoi auton Melȇton, 2b7-9) … he is going to accuse me of corrupting his  generation (hȏs diaphtheirontos tous hȇlikiȏtas autou erchetai katȇgorȇsȏn mou, 2c6-7) … Of all our political men he is the only one who seems to me to begin in the right way (kai phainetai moi tȏn politikȏn monos archesthai orthȏs), with the cultivation of virtue in youth (orthȏs gar esti tȏn neȏn prȏton epimelȇthȇnai hopȏs esontai hoti aristoi); like a good husbandman (hȏsper geȏrgon agathon tȏn neȏn phutȏn eikos prȏton epimelȇthȇnai, meta de touto kai tȏn allȏn), he makes the young shoots his first care, and clears away us whom he accuses of destroying them (kai dȇ kai Melȇtos isȏs prȏton men hȇmas ekkathairei tous tȏn neȏn tas blastas diaphteirontas, hȏs phȇsin). This is only the first step; afterwards he will assuredly attend to the elder branches (epeita meta touto dȇlon hoti tȏn presbuterȏn epimelȇtheis); and if he goes on as he has begun, he will be a very great public benefactor (pleistȏn kai megistȏn agathȏn aitios tȇi polei genȇsetai, hȏs ge to eikos sumbȇnai ek toiautȇs archȇs arxamenȏi).’ – Euthyphro: ‘I hope that he may (Bouloimȇn an – Jowett’s ‘I hope that he may’ is a misinterpretation; Euthyphro says: ‘I should wish it were so’); but I rather fear, Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates, all’ orrȏdȏ), that the opposite will turn out to be the truth (mȇ tounantion genȇtai). My opinion is that in attacking you he is simply aiming a blow at the heart of the state (atechnȏs gar moi dokei aph’ hestias archesthai kakourgein tȇn polin, epicheirȏn adikein se).’ (2c8-3a8) – As can be seen, Euthyphro has a very high opinion of Socrates.

Having told Euthyphro about Meletus’ accusation, Socrates asks: ‘And what is your suit, Euthyphro (Estin de dȇ soi, ȏ Euthyphrȏn, tis hȇ dikȇ)? Are you the pursuer or the defendant (pheugeis autȇn ȇ diȏkeis)?’ – Euthyphro: ‘I am the pursuer (Diȏkȏ).’ – Soc. ‘Of whom (Tina)?’ – Euth. ‘When I tell you, you will perceive another reason why I am thought mad (Hon diȏkȏn au dokȏ mainesthai).’ (3e7-4a1)

***

Euthyphro’s au i.e. ‘again’, which Jowett renders ‘you will perceive another reason’, refers to 2c2, where he says that the many (hoi polloi) laugh at him and think him a madman (katagelȏsin hȏs mainomenou). His entry containing those words shows that he views himself and Socrates as kindred spirits: ‘I understand (Manthanȏ), Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates); he means to attack you about the familiar sign which occasionally, as you say, comes to you (hoti dȇ su to daimonion phȇis sautȏi hekastote gignestai). He thinks that you are a neologian (hȏs oun kainotomountos sou peri ta theia), and he is going to have you up before the court for this (gegraptai tautȇn tȇn graphȇn, kai hȏs diabalȏn dȇ erchetai eis to dikastȇrion). He knows (eidȏs) that such a charge is readily received by the world, (hoti eudiabola ta toiauta pros tous pollous) as I myself know too well; for when I speak in the assembly about divine things (kai emou gar toi, hotan ti legȏ en tȇi ekklȇsiai peri tȏn theiȏn), and foretell the future to them (prolegȏn autois ta mellonta), they laugh at me and think me a madman (katagelȏsin hȏs mainomenou). Yet every word that I say is true (kaitoi ouden hoti ouk alȇthes eirȇka hȏn proeipon). But they are jealous of us all (all’ homȏs phthonousin hȇmin pasi tois toioutois); and we must be brave and go at them (all’ ouden autȏn chrȇ phrontizein, all’ homose ienai).’ (2b5-c5)

***

Soc. ‘Why (Ti de), has the fugitive wings (petomenon tina diȏkeis)?’ – Euth. ‘Nay, he is not very volatile at his time of life (Pollou ge dei petesthai, hos ge tunchanei ȏn eu mala presbutȇs).’ – Soc. ‘Who is he (Tis houtos)?’ – Euth. ‘My father (Ho emos patȇr).’ – Soc. ‘My dear Sir! Your own father (Ho sos, ȏ beltiste)?’ – Euth. ‘Yes (Panu men oun).’ – Soc. ‘And of what is he accused (Estin de ti to enklȇma kai tinos hȇ dikȇ)?’ – Euth. ‘Of murder (Phonou), Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates).’ – Soc. Good heavens (Hȇrakleis)! How little, Euthyphro, does the common heard know of the nature of right and truth (ȇ pou, ȏ Ethuphrȏn, agnoeitai hupo tȏn pollȏn hopȇi pote orthȏs echei)! A man must be an extraordinary man, and have made great strides in wisdom, before he could have seen his way to bring such an action (ou gar oimai ge tou epituchontos auto praxai alla porrȏ pou ȇdȇ sophias elaunontos).’ – Euth. ‘Indeed, Socrates, he must (Porrȏ mentoi nȇ Dia, ȏ Sȏkrates).’ – Soc. ‘I suppose that the man whom your father murdered was one of your family (Estin de dȇ tȏn oikeiȏn tis ho tethneȏs hupo tou sou patros) – clearly he was (ȇ dȇla dȇ); for if he had been a stranger you would never have thought of prosecuting him (ou gar an pou huper ge allotriou epexȇistha phonou autȏi).’ – Euth. ‘I am amused (Geloion, i.e. ‘Ridiculous’), Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates), at your making a distinction between one who is a member of the family and one who is not (ei oiei ti diapherein eite allotrios eite oikeios ho tethneȏs); for surely the pollution is the same in either case, if you knowingly associate with the murderer when you ought to clear yourself and him by proceeding against him. The real question is whether the murdered man has been justly slain. If justly, then your duty is to let the matter alone; but if unjustly, then proceed against the murderer, if, that is to say, he lives under the same roof with you and eats at the same table (all’ ou touto monon dein phulattein, eite en dikȇi ekteinen ho kteinas eite mȇ, kai ei men en dikȇi, ean, ei de mȇ, epexienai, eanper ho kteinas sunestios soi kai homotrapezos ȇi: ison gar to miasma gignetai ean sunȇis tȏi toioutȏi suneidȏs kai mȇ aphosiois seauton te kai ekeinon tȇi dikȇi epexiȏn).’ (4a2-c3)

Euthyphro goes on to explain the case in detail: ‘In fact (epei), the man who is dead was a poor dependent of mine (ho ge apothanȏn pelatȇs tis ȇn emos) who worked for us as a field labourer on our farm in Naxos (kai hȏs egeȏrgoumen en tȇi Naxȏi, ethȇteuen ekei par hȇmin), and one day in a fit of drunken passion he got into a quarrel with one of our domestic servants (paroinȇsas oun kai orgistheis tȏn oiketȏn tini tȏn hȇmeterȏn) and slew him (aposphattei auton). My father bound him hand and foot (ho oun patȇr sundȇsas tous podas kai tas cheiras autou) and threw him into a ditch (katabalȏn eis taphron tina), and then he sent to Athens to ask an expositor of religious law (pempei deuro andra peusomenon tou exȇgȇtou) what he should do with him (hoti chreiȇ poiein). Meanwhile he never attended to him and took no care about him (en de toutȏi tȏi chronȏi tou dedemenou ȏligȏrei te kai ȇmelei), for he regarded him as a murderer (hȏs androphonou); and thought that no great harm would be done (kai ouden on pragma) even if he did die (ei kai apothanoi). Now this was just what happened (hoper oun kai epathen). For such was the effect of cold and hunger and chains upon him (hupo gar limou kai rigous kai tȏn desmȏn), that before the messenger returned from the expositor, he was dead (apothnȇiskei prin ton angelon para tou exȇgȇtou aphikesthai).’ (4c3-d5)

Socrates reacted to this explanation with the words: ‘Good heavens, Euthyphro (Su de dȇ pros Dios, ȏ Euthuphrȏn)! And is your knowledge of religion and of things pious and impious so very exact (houtȏsi akribȏs oiei epistasthai peri tȏn theiȏn hopȇi echei, kai tȏn hosiȏn te kai anosiȏn), that (hȏste), supposing the circumstances to be (toutȏn houtȏ prachthentȏn) as you state them (hȏs su legeis), you are not afraid (ou phobȇi) lest you too may be doing an impious thing in bringing an action against your father (dikazomenos tȏi patri hopȏs mȇ au su anosion pragma tunchanȇs prattȏn)?’ – Euth. ‘The best of Euthyphro, that which distinguishes him, Socrates, from the common herd, is his exact knowledge of all such matters. What should I be good for without it (Ouden gar an mou ophelos eiȇ, ȏ Sȏkrates, oude tȏi an diapheroi Euthuphrȏn tȏn pollȏn anthrȏpȏn, ei mȇ ta toiauta panta akribȏs eideiȇn)?’

And so Socrates asks: ‘And what is piety, and what is impiety?’ (Lege dȇ, ti phȇis einai to hosion kai ti to anosion, 5d6-7)

Socrates prepared this question, which occupies them for the rest of the dialogue, by linking Euthyphro’s case against his father with Meletus’ case against himself: ‘Rare friend! I think that I cannot do better than be your disciple (Ar’ oun moi, ȏ thaumasie Euthuphrȏn, kratiston esti mathȇtȇi sȏi genesthai). Then before the trial with Meletus comes on (kai pro tȇs graphȇs tȇs pros Melȇton) I shall challenge him (auta tauta prokaleisthai auton), and say (legonta) that I have always had a great interest in religious questions (hoti egȏ kai en tȏi emprosthen chronȏi ta theia peri pollou epoioumȇn eidenai), and now (kai nun), as he charges me with rash imaginations and innovations in religion (epeidȇ me ekeinos autoschediazonta phȇsi kai kainotomounta peri tȏn theiȏn examartanein), I have become your disciple (mathȇtȇs dȇ gegona sos). You, Meletus, as I shall say to him, acknowledge Euthyphro to be a great theologian (“kai ei men, ȏ Melȇte,” phaiȇn an, “Euthuphrona homologies sophon einai ta toiauta), and so you ought to approve of me (orthȏs nomizein kai eme hȇgou), and not have me into court (kai mȇ dikazou); otherwise (ei de mȇ) you should begin by indicting him who is my teacher (ekeinȏi tȏi didaskalȏi lache dikȇn proteron ȇ emoi), and who will be the ruin, not of the young, but of the old (hȏs tous presbuterous diaphtheironti); that is to say, of myself whom he instructs, and of his old father whom he admonishes and chastises (eme te kai ton patera, eme men didaskonti, ekeinon de nouthetounti te kai kolazonti”). And if Meletus refuses to listen to me (kai an mȇ moi peithȇtai), but will go on (mȇde aphiȇi tȇs dikȇs), and will not shift his indictment from me to you (ȇ ant’ emou graphȇtai se), I cannot do better than repeat this challenge in the court (auta tauta legein en tȏi dikastȇriȏi ha proukaloumȇn auton).’ – Euth. ‘Yes, indeed, Socrates (Nai ma Dia, ȏ Sȏkrates); and if he attempts to indict me (ei ara eme epicheirȇseie graphesthai) I am mistaken if I do not find a flaw in him (heuroim’ an, hȏs oimai, hopȇi sathros esti); the court will be occupied with him long before it comes to me (kai polu an hȇmin proteron peri ekeinou logos egeneto en tȏi dikastȇriȏi ȇ peri emou).’ (5a3-c3)

***

In the ‘Pursuit of Philosophy’ I wrote: ‘Unhappy about Euthyphro’s understanding of religious duty were the plain people around him; his friends and relatives tried to dissuade him from prosecuting his father but Euthyphro remained encapsulated in his “superior knowledge” (4d). Only Socrates succeeded in piercing Euthyphro’s conceit. At the end of the dialogue, instead of fulfilling his intention of entering the court to present his indictment, Euthyphro went away in haste. In the Life of Socrates Diogenes Laertius writes: ‘When Euthyphro was about to indict his father for killing a foreigner, Socrates, having discussed with him some points about piety, diverted him from it (II. 29).’ (History of Political Thought, vol. V, No. 3, Winter 1984, p. 531)

***

Debra Nails s.v. Euthyphro devotes to Diogenes’ testimony a special paragraph: ‘In the later tradition. In Diogenes, the conversation with Socrates diverts Euthyphro from pursuing the indictment of his father.’ (The People of Plato, Hackett Publishing Company, 2002, p. p. 153)

If I understand Debra Nails’s ‘In the later tradition’ correctly, the view that Socrates failed to dissuade Euthyphro from prosecuting his father has remained dominant. Let me give a few examples of its prevalence.

D. A. Russell wrote in his brief preface to Jowett’s translation of the dialogue: ‘Euthyphro … has no doubt that what he is doing is hosion, his religious duty, and that not to do it would be anosion, a failure of religious duty. The main content of the dialogue is the destruction of this certainty – though Euthyphro does not admit it, and simply excuses himself at the end (15d) from further discussion.’ (The Dialogues of Plato, 1970, vol. I, p. 35.)

P. T. Geach concluded his article on the Euthuphro with the words: ‘Mr Right-Mind [Euthy-Phron] was not led a-wandering from the straight path’. (‘Plato’s Euthyphro, an Analysis and Commentary’ Monist 50, 1966). Inspired by Geach (as Kenny told me after reading my ‘Pursuit of Philosophy’), Anthony Kenny wrote in The Aristotelian Ethics: ‘The service of the Gods which Euthyphro has in mind includes prayer and service: but it includes also acts of justice such as Euthyphro’s attempt to punish a murderer – the endeavour which gives the whole dialogue its framework … It is certainly not alien to Aristotle’s manner in the Eudemian Ethics to defend the moral opinions of the plain man against the paradoxes of Socrates.’ (Clarendon Press, Oxford 1978, p. 178)

***

I don’t know how this view started, but Jowett’s translation of Euthyphro’s introductory address to Socrates, and Burnett’s comment on that address, appear to have fostered it, if not occasioned it. J. Burnet writes in the ‘Introductory note’ to his edition of the dialogue: ‘The situation assumed in the Euthyphro is that indicated at the end of the Theaetetus (a much later dialogue), where Socrates says he has an appointment at the Hall of the ‘King’ with reference to a charge brought against him by Meletus (210d1). Socrates has kept this appointment, and is waiting outside till his turn comes, when he is accosted by Euthyphro. As Euthyphro too had a case before the ‘King’, and as, at the end of the dialogue, he suddenly remembers another engagement (15e3), we must suppose that his business here is over for the present, and that he is coming out of the basileȏs stoa when he sees Socrates.’ (Plato, Euthyphro, Apology of Socrates, Crito, edited with notes by John Burnet, Oxford University Press, 1924, reprinted 2002, p. 82)

This view harmonizes with Jowett’s translation of Euthyphro’s ‘What can have happened (ti neȏteron), Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates), to bring you away from the Lyceum (hoti su tas en Lukeiȏi katalipȏn diatribas)? And what are you doing in the Porch of the King Archon (enthade nun diatribeis peri tȇn tou basileȏs stoan)?’ But Euthyphro’s diatribeis ‘spend your time’ implies that Euthyphro observed Socrates standing there and waiting for some time, which suggests that he saw him there as he was walking towards the Hall of the ‘King’. In that case his response to Socrates’ final appeal – ‘Another time (Eis authis toinun), Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates); for I am in a hurry (nun gar speudȏ poi), and must go now (kai moi hȏra apienai)’ – shows that he is hurrying away instead of going into the Hall of the ‘King’.

***

The importance of Euthyphro’s hurrying away instead of going into the Hall of the ‘King’ to indict his father becomes apparent if we view it against the background of Aristophanes’ Clouds and Xenophon’s testimony in the Memorabilia.

Explaining the case to Socrates, Euthyphro said: ‘And my father and family are angry with me (tauta dȇ oun kai aganaktei ho te patȇr kai hoi alloi oikeioi) for taking the part of the murderer (hoti egȏ huper tou androphonou) and prosecuting my father (tȏi patri epexerchomai). They say that he did not kill him (oute apokteinanti, hȏs phasi ekeinoi), and that if he did (out’ ei hoti malista apekteinen), the dead man was but a murderer (androphonou ge ontos tou apothanontos), and I ought not take any notice (ou dein phrontizein huper tou toioutou), for that a son is impious who prosecutes a father for murder (anosion gar einai to huon patri phonou epexienai). Which shows, Socrates, how little they know what the gods think about piety and impiety (kakȏs eidotes, ȏ Sȏkrates, to theion hȏs echei tou hosiou te peri kai tou anosiou).’ (4d5-e3)

With all their entreaties and all their arguments, Euthyphro’s father and his other relatives could not dissuade Euthyphro from his intended action. It was only Socrates, himself facing the charges raised against him by Meletus, who with his persistent questioning succeeded in undermining Euthyphro’s self-satisfied certainty. Socrates’ references in the Cratylus to his ‘early morning’ long discussion with Euthyphro indicate that Euthyphro’s ‘another time’ was not just an excuse. It appears that Euthyphro still believed that he could show Socrates that his intended prosecution of his father was his religious duty. Diogenes’ information that Socrates diverted him from it (II. 29) suggests that the case was much talked about at the time. Socrates’ frequent references to his ‘morning discussion’ with Euthyphro in the Cratylus, although clad in irony, indicate that the discussion was momentous. (See ‘Plato’s Cratylus and his Euthyphro’ posted on August 21.)

***

In Jowett’s rendering, Euthyphro’s last words are ambiguous: ‘Another time (Eis authis toinun), Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates); for I am in a hurry (nun gar speudȏ poi), and must go now (kai moi hȏra apienai)’. Thus Geach, Kenny, and presumably others could infer that Euthyphro brushed Socrates aside and went into the Hall of the King to indict his father. But Euthyphro’s words, as they stand in the original, don’t allow such interpretation. His nun gar speudȏ poi mean ‘now I am in a hurry to go somewhere’. Burnett correctly: ‘he suddenly remembers another engagement’ (l.c.).

***

In Chapter 11 of The Lost Plato (on my website) entitled ‘Socrates in the Euthyphro and the Apology’ I wrote: ‘The dialogue radiates confidence that because of Socrates’ admission of ignorance and his willingness to be taught better there is for him no case to answer and the accusation must fail. I therefore date the Euthyphro prior to Socrates’ trial, in the interval between the institution of proceedings against Socrates and the trial itself.’ In the accompanying note I wrote that Schleiermacher states as indisputable that the Euthyphro was written prior to the death of Socrates: ‘dieses Gespräch unstreitig zwischen der Anklage und der Verurteilung des Sokrates geschrieben ist’ [‘this dialogue was undoubtedly written in between the formal accusation and the judicial condemnation of Socrates’] (Platons Werke, vol. I. 2. 2^nd ed. Berlin 1818, p. 53.) Stallbaum says that ‘almost the whole dialogue is pervaded by a bold and untroubled hilarity and charm that is free from any foreboding and suspicion that a catastrophe was forthcoming’ (per totum fere sermonum regnet proterva quaedam aut certe secura hilaritas multusque lepos ab omni tristis alicuius casus praesagitatione vel suspicione alienus). Stallbaum goes on to say that ‘for this reason we believe that when Plato wrote the dialogue, he firmly hoped that Socrates would win the case’ (Quocirca etiam Platonem putamus certissime speravisse futurum esse, ut Socratis causa triumpharet). (Platonis Meno et Euthyphro, recensuit et Prolegomenis atque Commentariis illustravit Godofredus Stallbaum, Gothae 1836, p. 145.)

Aristophanes’ Clouds and Xenophon’s testimony make me convinced that Plato wrote the Euthyphro as his contribution to the successful outcome of the trial and its positive effect on the Athenian political scene. As he intimates in his Seventh Letter, in those days he was driven by the desire to become engaged in politics (heilken de me homȏs hȇ peri to prattein ta koina kai politika epithumia, 325a7-b1).

The dramatic dating of the Cratylus

Debra Nails dates the Cratylus ≤422 B.C.: ‘The dramatic date is before the death of Hipponicus (422/1) [the father of Hermogenes] as discussed at Cratylus and Hermogenes s. vv., including references to the several modern contributions to the question. Attempts to set the dialogue nearer Euthyphro (e.g. Burnet’s), taking the conversation represented in Euthyphro to be the very one mentioned in Cratylus (396d), have foundered.’ (Debra Nails, The People of Plato, Hackett Publishing Company, 2002, pp. 312-313)

If Nails’ dramatic dating is correct, the dramatic dating I proposed in my preceding post, after the Euthyphro, is wrong. So let me follow the reasons she gives for her dating.

Nails says, s.v. Cratylus, the following: ‘Allen argued … citing Cratylus 429d and 440d for a large age difference between Socrates and his interlocutors – that Cratylus was no older than Plato in 399, the dramatic date assigned by Burnet … Guthrie goes too far (missing 391c) when he says the Cratylus “contains no indication of when the conversation was supposed to have taken place”, which is not true (see Hermogenes s.v.). Taylor (1956) also opposed Allan by reducing the presumed age gap between Socrates and Cratylus, pointing out the mention of a previous conversation with Euthyphro s.v. (Cra. 396d; this has grown into a large prosopographical controversy on its own). Taylor concluded that Socrates was in his forties in the Cratylus, thus that the dialogue is set in the 420s, a view I find plausible.’ (Nails, 105-6)

Cratylus 429d contains the following discussion. Socrates: ‘Does your statement amount to this, that it is altogether impossible to speak falsely (Ara hoti pseudȇ legein to parapan ouk esti, ara touto soi dunatai ho logos)? For there are many who say this, my dear Cratylus, and there have been many in the past (suchnoi gar tines hoi legontes, ȏ phile Kratule, kai nun kai palai).’ – Cratylus: ‘Why, Socrates, how can a man say that which is not? – say something and yet say nothing (Pȏs gar an, ȏ Sȏkrates, legȏn ge tis touto ho legei, mȇ to on legoi)? For is not falsehood saying the thing which is not (ȇ ou touto estin to pseudȇ legein, to mȇ ta onta legein)?’ – Socrates: ‘Your argument, friend, is too subtle for a man of my age (Kompsoteros men ho logos ȇ kat’ eme kai kata tȇn emȇn hȇlikian).’ (429d1-8, tr. Jowett)

Pace Nails and Taylor, I must agree with Allen. Socrates’ words ‘Your argument, friend, is too subtle for a man of my age’ don’t sound like words spoken by Socrates in his forties.

To make sense of the reference to Cratylus 440d, Socrates’ words must be taken within the framework of his last great entry: ‘Nor can we reasonably say, Cratylus, that there is any knowing at all (All’ oude gnȏsin einai phanai eikos, ȏ Kratule), if everything is in a state of transition (ei metapiptei panta chrȇmata) and there is nothing abiding (kai mȇden menei). For if this power of knowing does not vary and lose its identity (ei men gar auto touto, hȇ gnȏsis, tou gnȏsis einai mȇ metapiptei), then knowing may continue always to abide and exist (menoi te an aei hȇ gnȏsis kai eiȇ gnȏsis). But if the very nature of knowing is liable to change (ei de kai auto to eidos metapiptei tȇs gnȏseȏs), then it will be transformed into something other than knowing (hama t’an metapiptoi eis allo eidos gnȏseȏs), and knowing will thereby cease to exist (kai ouk an eiȇ gnȏsis); and if the transition is always going on (ei de aei meatpiptei), there will always be no knowing (aei ouk an eiȇ gnȏsis), and, according to this view (kai ek toutou tou logou), there will be no one to know and nothing to be known (oute to gnȏsomenon oute to gnȏsthȇsomenon an eiȇ). But if that which knows and that which is known exist ever (ei de esti men aei to gignȏskon, esti de to gignȏskomenon), and the beautiful exists (esti de to kalon) and the good exists (esti de to agathon), and every other thing also exists (esti de hen hekaston tȏn ontȏn), then I do not think they can resemble (ou moi phainetai tauta homoia onta) a process of flux, as we were just now proposing (ha nun hȇmeis legomen, roȇi ouden oude phorai). Whether there is this eternal nature of things (tout’ oun poteron pote houtȏs echei), or whether the truth is what Heracleitus and his followers and many others say (ȇ ekeinȏs hȏs hoi peri Hȇrakleiton te legousin kai alloi polloi), is a question hard to determine (mȇ ou raidion ȇi episkepsasthai); and no man of sense (oude panu noun echontos anthrȏpou) will like to put himself or the education of his mind in the power of names (epitrepsanta onomasin hauton kai tȇn hautou psuchȇn therapeuein): neither will he so far trust names or the givers of names  (pepisteukota ekeinois kai tois themenois auta) as to be confident in any knowledge (diischurizesthai hȏs ti eidota, i.e. ‘affirm with confidents as if he knew’; Jowett misinterprets) which condemns himself and other existence to an unhealthy state of unreality (kai hautou te kai tȏn ontȏn katagignȏskein hȏs ouden hugies oudenos, i.e. ‘condemning himself and other existence to an unhealthy state of unreality’; the subject is the man who ‘affirms with confidents as if he knew’, not Jowett’s mistaken ‘knowledge’); he will not believe that all things leak like a pot (alla panta hȏsper keramia rei), or that the whole external world is afflicted with rheum and catarrh (kai atechnȏs hȏsper hoi katarrȏi nosountes anthrȏpoi houtȏs oiesthai kai ta pragmata diakeisthai, hupo reumatos kai katarrou panta chrȇmata echesthai). This may be true, Cratylus (isȏs men oun dȇ, ȏ Kratule, houtȏs echei), but is also very likely to be untrue (isȏs de kai ou); and therefore I would not have you be too easily persuaded of it. Reflect well and like a man, and do not easily accept such a doctrine (skopeisthai oun chrȇ andreiȏs te kai eu, kai mȇ raidiȏs apodechesthai); for you are young and of an age to learn (eti gar neos ei kai hȇlikian echeis). And when you have found the truth (skepsamenon de, ean heurȇis), come and share it with me (metadidonai kai emoi).’ (440a6-d6, tr. Jowett)

Jowett’s ‘for you are young and of an age to learn’, which stands for Socrates’ eti gar neos ei kai hȇlikian echeis is misleading, for Socrates speaks of ‘investigating courageously and well’ skopeisthai oun chrȇ andreiȏs te kai eu, for which, Socrates implies, he himself does not have ‘time of life’ (hȇlikian) left.

How could Taylor possibly have deduced from these two passages, Cratylus 429d and 440d, that Socrates was in his forties when in the Cratylus, defies my understanding.

***

So let me turn to what Nails has to say s.v. Hermogenes: ‘In Plato, Hermogenes is an able interlocutor (Cra.) and is one of those present at Socrates’ death (Phd.). Hermogenes’ statement on naming beginning, “when we give names to our domestic slaves” (Cra. 384d) does not sound like the words of an impoverished man who depends on “charity from his friends” (pace APF [J. K. Davies, Athenian Propertied Families 600-300 B.C.], citing Xenophon). The Hermogenes of Xenophon is hardly recognizable as the same man, for Xenophon makes something of a fetish of Hermogenes’ poverty and superstition – which is quite absent from Plato’s dialogues. Hipponicus II (who died 422/1) is still alive when Socrates addresses Hermogenes at Cratylus 391c: “since you haven’t yet come into any money of your own” (epeidȇ de ouk enkratȇs ei tȏn patrȏiȏn), implying that Hermogenes had some just expectation of inheriting from his father.’ (Nails 162-3)

At Cra. 384d Hermogenes says: ‘any name which you give, in my opinion (emoi gar dokei hoti an tis tȏi thȇtai onoma), is the right one (touto einai to orthon), and if you change that and give another (kai an authis ge heteron metathȇtai ekeino de mȇketi kalȇi), the new name is as correct as the old (ouden hȇtton to husteron orthȏs echein tou proterou) – we frequently change the names of our slaves (hȏsper tois oiketais hȇmeis metatithemetha), and the newly imposed name is as good as the old (ouden hȇtton tout’ einai orthon to metatethen tou proteron keimenou) .’ (384d2-6, tr. Jowett)

Hermogenes speaks in general – ‘any name which you give ‘ (hoti an tis tȏi thȇtai onoma), and in the plural – ‘we frequently change the names of our slaves’ (tois oiketais hȇmeis metatithemetha). Debra Nails appears to think that when Hermogenes speaks ‘of our slaves’, he refers to slaves he owned. Since he speaks in plural, are we to infer that both Kratylos and Socrates owned slaves? If so, it would only mean that we would have to view Hermogenes’ ownership of slaves as compatible with his being viewed both by Cratylus and by Socrates as a poor man. For Cratylus maintained: ‘If all the world were to call you Hermogenes, that would not be your name’ (Oukoun soi ge onoma Hermogenȇs, oude an pantes kalȏsi anthrȏpoi, 383b), and Socrates explained: ‘When Cratylus declares that your name is not really Hermogenes (hoti de ou phȇsi soi Hermogenȇ onoma einai tȇi alȇtheiai), I suspect that he is only making fun of you (hȏsper hupopteuȏ auton skȏptein); he means to say that you are no true son of Hermes, because you are always looking for a fortune and never in luck (oietai gar isȏs se chrȇmatȏn ephiemenon ktȇseȏs apotunchanein hekastoteI, 384c3-6).’

Perhaps it was Jowett’s ‘because you are always looking for a fortune’ that made Nails think that Hermogenes was ‘looking for’ inheriting something from his father, the point she makes with reference to Crat. 391c. But the Greek original does not imply anything of the sort; it suggests that Hermogenes was involved in many ventures, trying to get rich, but always failed.

In fact, as I now look at Crat. 391c, I begin to suspect that it was Jowett’s translation of this passage that misled Debra Nails. So let me give Socrates words in their context: ‘The true way [of inquiry into the correctness of a name (autou hȇ orthotȇs), 390b5] is to have the assistance of those who know (Orthotatȇ men tȇs skepseȏs, ȏ hetaire, meta tȏn epistamenȏn) and you must pay them well both in money and in thanks (chrȇmata ekeinois telounta kai charitas katatithemenon); these are the sophists (eisi de houtoi hoi sophistai), of whom your brother, Callias, has – rather dearly – bought the reputation of wisdom (hoisper kai ho adelphos sou Kallias polla telesas chrȇmata sophos dokei einai). But you have not yet come into your inheritance (epeidȇ de ouk enkratȇs ei tȏn patrȏiȏn), and therefore you had better go to him, and beg and entreat him (liparein chrȇ ton adelphon kai deisthai autou) to tell you what he has learnt from Protagoras about the fitness of names (didaxai se tȇn orthotȇta peri tȏn toioutȏn hȇn emathen para Prȏtagorou).’

Jowett’s ‘But you have not yet come into your inheritance’ is wrong; Socrates’ epeidȇ de ouk enkratȇs ei tȏn patrȏiȏn means ‘since you are not in possession of the patrimony’. Pace Nails, these words do not imply that Hermogenes’ father is still alive. Socrates speaks with sharp irony, and if his words imply anything, then it is that by the time the dialogue is dramatically staged Callias managed to squander the patrimony on the sophists.

Plato’s Cratylus and his Euthyphro

In the Cratylus Hermogenes addresses Socrates: ‘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 (Kratulos phȇsin hode, ȏ Sȏkrates, onomatos orthotȇta einai hekastȏi tȏn ontȏn physei pephukuian, kai ou touto einai onoma ho an tines suntithemenoi kalein kalȏsi, tȇs autȏn phȏnȇs morion epiphthengomenoi, 383a4-7; all translations in this entry are Jowett’s).’ When after some discussion Socrates says that ‘Cratylus is right in saying (Kratulus alȇthȇ legei legȏn) that things have names by nature (phusei ta onomata einai tois pragmasi, 390d9-e1)’, Hermogenes says: ‘I cannot see how to answer your arguments, Socrates (Ouk echȏ, ȏ Sȏkrates, hopȏs chrȇ pros ha legeis enantiousthai) but I find a difficulty in changing my opinion all in a moment (isȏs mentoi ou raidion estin houtȏs exaiphnȇs peisthȇnai), and I think that I should be more readily persuaded (alla dokȏ moi hȏde an mallon pithesthai soi), if you would show me (ei moi deixeias) what this is which you term the natural fitness of names (hȇntina phȇis einai tȇn phusei orthotȇta onomatos).’ – Socrates: ‘My good Hermogenes, I have none to show (Egȏ men, ȏ makarie Hermogenes, oudemian legȏ). Was I not telling you just now (but you have forgotten), that I knew nothing, and proposing to share the inquiry with you (all’ epelathou ge hȏn oligon proteron elegon, hoti ouk eideiȇn alla skepsoimȇn meta sou, 390e5-392a6)?’

Socrates investigates: ‘Everyone would agree that the name of Tantalus is rightly given and in accordance with nature (Tȏi de Tantalȏi kai pas an hȇgȇsaito t’ounoma orthȏs kai kata phusin tethȇnai), if the traditions about him are true (ei alȇthȇ ta peri auton legomena).’ – Her. ‘And what are the traditions (Ta poia tauta)?’ – Soc. ‘Many terrible misfortunes are said to have happened to him in his life (Ha te pou eti zȏnti dustuchȇmata egeneto polla kai deina) – last of all (hȏn kai telos), came the utter ruin of his country (hȇ patris autou holȇ anetrapeto); and after his death (kai teleutȇsanti) he had the stone suspended over his head in the world below – all this agrees wonderfully well with his name (en Haidou hȇ huper tȇs kephalȇs tou lithou talanteia thaumastȇ hȏs sumphȏnos tȏi onomati). You might imagine (kai atechnȏs eoike) that some person who wanted to call him talantatos, the most weighed down by misfortune (hȏsper an ei tis boulomenos talantaton onomasai), disguised the name altering it into Tantalus (apokruptomenos onomaseie kai eipoi ant’ ekeinou “Tantalon”); and into this form by some accident of tradition, it has actually been transmuted (toiouton ti kai toutȏi to onoma eoiken ekporisai hȇ tuchȇ tȇs phȇmȇs). The name of Zeus, who is his alleged father, has also an excellent meaning (phainetai de kai tȏi patri autou legomenȏi tȏi Dii pankalȏs to onoma keisthai), although hard to be understood (esti de ou raidion katanoȇsai), because really like a sentence (atechnȏs gar estin hoion logos to tou Dios onoma), which is divided into two parts (dielontes de auto dichȇi), for some call him Zena, and use the one half, and others who use the other half call him Dia (hoi men tȏi heterȏi merei, hoi de tȏi heterȏi chrȏmetha, hoi men gar “Zȇna,” hoi de Dia kalousin); the two together signify the nature of the God (suntithemena d’ eis hen dȇloi tȇn phusin tou theou), and the business of a name, as we were saying, is to express the nature (ho dȇ prosȇkein phamen onomati hoiȏi te einai apergazesthai). For there is none who is more the author of life to us and to all (ou gar estin hȇmin kai tois allois pasin hostis estin aitios mallon tou zȇn), than the lord and king of all (ȇ ho archȏn te kai basileus tȏn pantȏn). 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 (sumbainei oun orthȏs onomazesthai houtos ho theos einai, di’ hon zȇn aei pasi tois zȏsin huparchei, dieilȇptai de dicha, hȏsper legȏ, hen on to onoma, tȏi “Dii” kai tȏi “Zȇni”). There is an irreverence, at first sight, in calling him son of Cronos (who is a proverb of stupidity) (touton de Kronou huon hubristikon men an tis doxeien einai akousanti exaiphnȇs), and we might rather expect Zeus to be the child of a mighty intellect (eulogon de megalȇs tinos dianoias ekgonon einai ton Dia). Which is the fact; for this is the meaning of his father’s name: Kronos quasi Koros, not in the sense of a youth, but signifying the pure and garnished mind (koron gar sȇmainei ou paida, alla to katharon kai akȇraton tou nou). He, as we are informed by tradition, was begotten by Uranus (esti de houtos Ouranou huos, hȏs logos) rightly so called from looking upwards (hȇ de au es to anȏ opsis kalȏs echei touto to onoma kaleisthai, “ourania”, horȏsa ta anȏ); which, as astronomers tell us, is to have a pure mind (hothen dȇ kai phasin, ȏ Hermogenes, ton katharon noun paragignesthai hoi meteȏrologoi), and the name of Uranus is therefore correct (kai tȏ Ouranȏi orthȏs to onoma keisthai). If I could remember (ei de ememnȇmȇn) the genealogy of Hesiod (tȇn Hȇsiodou genealogian), I would have gone on and tried more conclusions of the same sort on the remoter ancestors of the gods (tinas eti tous anȏterȏ progonous legei toutȏn, ouk an epauomȇn diexiȏn hȏs orthȏs autois ta onomata keitai), – 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 (heȏs apepeirathȇn tȇs sophias tautȇsi ti poiȇsei, ei ara aperei ȇ ou, hȇ emoi exaiphnȇs nun houtȏsi prospeptȏken arti ouk oid’ hopothen).’ – Her. ‘You seem to me, Socrates, to be quite like a prophet newly inspired, and to be uttering oracles (Kai men dȇ, ȏ Sȏkrates, atechnȏs ge moi dokeis hȏsper hoi enthousiȏntes exaiphnȇs chrȇsmȏidein).’ – Soc. ‘Yes, Hermogenes, and I believe that I caught the inspiration from the great Euthyphro of the Prospaltian deme (Kai aitiȏmai ge, ȏ Hermogenes, malista autȇn apo Euthuphronos tou Prospaltiou prospeptȏkenai moi), who gave me a great lecture which commenced at dawn: he talked and I listened (heȏthen gar polla autȏi sunȇ kai pareichon ta ȏta), and his wisdom and enchanting ravishment has not only filled my ears (kinduneuei oun enthousiȏn ou monon ta ȏta mou emplȇsai tȇs daimonias sophias) but taken possession of my soul (alla kai tȇs psuchȇs epeilȇphthai). I think that this will be the right course (dokei oun moi chrȇnai houtȏsi hȇmas poiȇsai) – today (to men tȇmeron einai) I shall let his superhuman power work and finish the investigation of names (chrȇsasthai autȇi kai ta loipa peri tȏn onomatȏn episkepsasthai); but tomorrow (aurion de), if you are so disposed (an kai humin sundokȇi), we will conjure him away (apodiopompȇsometha te autȇn), and make a purgation of him (kai katharoumetha), if we can find some priest or sophist who is skilled in purifications of this sort (exeurontes hostis ta toiauta deinos kathairein, eite tȏn hiereȏn tis eite tȏn sophistȏn).’ (395d3-397e1)

***

I must take issue with Jowett’s translation of Socrates’ last entry. Jowett’s ‘and I believe that I caught the inspiration from the great Euthyphro’ stands for Socrates’ Kai aitiȏmai ge, ȏ Hermogenes, malista autȇn apo Euthuphronos tou Prospaltiou prospeptȏkenai moi (396d4-5); autȇn cannot refer to ‘the inspiration caught from Euthyphro’, for Socrates has not mentioned any ‘inspiration of Euthyphro’; it refers to this wisdom (tȇs sophias, 396c6), i.e. to the wisdom, which he has just displayed in his attempt to get to the bottom of ‘the natural  fitness of names’ (291a3), the wisdom of which he suddenly became aware as it came to him (hȇ emoi exaiphnȇs nun houtȏsi prospeptȏken arti) when he discussed the names of Zeus, his father Cronus, and Uranus, the father of Cronus. For this ‘wisdom’ he blames (or ‘gives credit for’, aitiȏmai can mean both) Euthyphro, from whom it ‘came to him’ (prospeptȏkenai moi). Although Socrates blames Euthyphro for (or credits him with) this wisdom, he refrains from calling him ‘the great Euthyphro’. Jowett’s ‘I shall let his superhuman power work’ stands for Socrates’ chrȇsasthai autȇi, i.e. ‘use it’ or ‘make use of this wisdom’.  Jowett’s ‘we will conjure him away’ stands for Socrates’ apodiopompȇsometha te autȇn, i.e. ‘we shall conjure it, that is this wisdom, away’; Jowett’s ‘and make a purgation of him’ stands for Socrates’ kai katharoumetha, i.e. ‘purify ourselves’ from being touched by ‘this wisdom’.

***

Socrates does not explain what Euthyphro was telling him in his long ‘lecture’, but the reference to him at 400a1 suggests, as the original reference at 396d does, that Euthyphro was giving – or tried to give – Socrates a lecture on the correct interpretation of the names given to gods. At 300d Hermogenes asks Socrates ‘to examine the natural fitness of the word soul’ (psuchȇn episkepsasthai hȏs eikotȏs toutou tou onomatos tunchanei, 399d7-8). Socrates: ‘If I am to say what occurs to me at the moment (Hȏs men toinun ek tou parachrȇma legein), I should imagine that those who first used the name psuchȇ meant to express (oimai ti toiouton noein tous tȇn psuchȇn onomasantas) that the soul (hȏs touto ara) when in the body (hotan parȇi tȏi sȏmati) is the source of life (aition esti tou zȇn autȏi), and gives the power of breath (tȇn tou anapnein dunamin parechon) and revival (kai anapsuchon), and when this reviving power fails (hama de ekleipontos tou anapsuchontos) then the body perishes and dies (to sȏma apollutai te kai teleutai), and this, if I am not mistaken, they called psyche (hothen dȇ moi dokousin auto “psuchȇn kalesai). But please (ei de boulei) stay a moment (eche ȇrema); I fancy that I can discover something (dokȏ gar moi ti kathoran) that will be more acceptable to the disciples of Euthyphro (pithanȏteron toutou tois amphi Euthuphrona, 400a1), for I am afraid that they will scorn this explanation (toutou men gar, hȏs emoi dokei, kataphronȇsaien an), and think it banal (kai hȇgȇsainto phortikon einai). What do you say to another (tode de skopei ean ara kai soi aresȇi)?’ – Her. ‘Let me hear (Lege monon).’ – 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 (Tȇn phusin pantos tou sȏmatos, hȏste kai zȇn kai periienai, ti soi dokei echein te kai ochein allo ȇ psuchȇ)?’ – Her. ‘Just that (Ouden allo).’ – Soc. ‘And do you not believe with Anaxagoras, that mind or soul is the ordering and containing principle of all things (Ti de; kai tȇn tȏn allȏn hapantȏn phusin ou pisteueis Anaxagorai noun kai psuchȇn einai tȇn diakosmousan kai echousan)?’ – Her. ‘Yes; I do (Egȏge).’ – Soc ‘Then you may well call that power phusechȇ which carries and holds nature (Kalȏs ara an to onoma touto echoi tȇi dunamei tautȇi hȇ phusin ochei kai echei “phusechȇn” eponomazein), and this may be refined away into psuchȇ (exesti de kai “psuchȇn” kompseuomenon legein).’ – Her. ‘Certainly (Panu men oun); and this derivation is, I think, more scientific than the other (kai dokei ge moi touto ekeinou technikȏteron einai).’ (399d10-b5)

Does this then mean that Socrates owed Euthyphro his interpretation of the names of Zeus, Cronus, and Uranus? If so, then only by contrast between his interpretation of those names and what Euthyphro had to say on the subject in their early morning discussion. For they had discussed these gods on their previous meeting, which they had in front of the Porch of the King Archon, where Socrates was summoned to face charges raised against him by Meletus, and where Euthyphro came to press a charge of homicide against his father. When Socrates expressed his doubts concerning Euthyphro’s intention to prosecute his father and asked him what piety was, the latter said: ‘Piety is (to men hosion estin) doing what I am doing (hoper egȏ nun poiȏ); that is to say, prosecuting anyone who is guilty of murder, sacrilege, or of any similar crime (tȏi adikounti ȇ peri phonous ȇ peri hierȏn klopas ȇ ti allo tȏn toioutȏn examartanonti epexienai) – whether he be your father or mother, or whoever he may be – that makes no difference (eante patȇr ȏn tunchanȇi eante mȇtȇr eante allos hostisoun); and not to prosecute them is impiety (to de mȇ epexienai anosion). And please to consider, Socrates (epei, ȏ Sȏkrates, theasai), what a notable proof I will give you (hȏs mega soi erȏ tekmȇrion) that this is the law (tou nomou hoti houtȏs echei), a proof which I have already given to others (ho kai allois ȇdȇ eipon, hoti tauta orthȏs an eiȇ houtȏs gignomena): – of the principle, I mean, that the impious, whoever he may be, ought not to go unpunished (mȇ epitrepein tȏi asebounti mȇd’ an hostisoun tunchanȇi ȏn). For do not men acknowledge Zeus as the best and most righteous of the gods (autoi gar hoi anthrȏpoi tunchanousi nomizontes ton Dia tȏn theȏn ariston kai dikaiotaton)? – and yet they admit that he bound his father (Cronos) because he wickedly devoured his sons (kai touton homologousi ton hautou patera dȇsai hoti tous hueis katepinen ouk en dikȇi), and that he too (k’akeinon ge au) had punished his own father (Uranus) for a similar reason, in a nameless manner (ton hautou patera ektemein di’ hetera toiauta – Jowett’s ‘in a nameless manner’ stands for Socrates’ ektemein ‘castrate’). And yet when I proceed against my father, they are angry with me (emoi de chalepainousin hoti tȏi patri epexerchomai adikounti). So inconsistent are they in their way of talking when the gods are concerned, and when I am concerned (kai houtȏs autoi hautois ta enantia legousi peri te tȏn theȏn kai peri emou).’ – Soc. ‘May not this be the reason, Euthyphro (Ara ge, ȏ Euthuphron, tout’ estin), why I am charged with impiety (houneka tȇn graphȇn pheugȏ) – that I cannot away with these stories about the gods (hoti ta toiauta epeidan tis peri tȏn theȏn legȇi, duscherȏs pȏs apodechomai)? That, I suppose is where people think I go wrong (dio dȇ, hȏs eoike, phȇsei tis me examartanein). But as you who are well informed about them approve of them (nun oun ei kai soi tauta sundokei tȏi eu eidoti peri tȏn toioutȏn), I cannot do better but assent to your superior wisdom (anankȇ dȇ, hȏs eoike, kai hȇmin sunchȏrein). What else can I say (ti gar kai phȇsomen), confessing as I do, that I know nothing about them (hoi ge kai autoi homologoumen peri autȏn mȇden eidenai)? Tell me, for the love of Zeus (alla moi eipe pros Philiou), whether you really believe that they are true (su hȏs alȇthȏs hȇgȇi tauta houtȏs gegonenai)?’ – Euth. ‘Yes, Socrates; and things more wonderful still (Kai eti ge toutȏn thaumasiȏtera, ȏ Sȏkrates), of which the world is in ignorance (ha hoi polloi ouk isasin) (5d8-6b6) … I can tell you (all’ hoper arti eipon), if you would like to hear them, many other things about the gods which would quite amaze you (kai alla soi egȏ polla, eanper boulȇi, peri tȏn theiȏn diȇgȇsomai, ha su akouȏn eu oid’ hoti ekplagȇsȇi, 5c5-7).’

On that occasion Socrates had no time for Euthyphro’s wisdom. He was worried about Euthyphro’s intention to prosecute his father, for it was generally considered to be impious, it would have seriously tarnished his reputation and badly affected his relationship with his relatives; he therefore repeatedly insisted on his explaining to him what piety was, and so he did in his final appeal: ‘Then we must begin again and ask (Ex archȇs ara hȇmin palin skepteon), What is piety (ti esti to hosion)? That is an inquiry which I shall never be weary of pursuing as far as in me lies (hȏs egȏ prin an mathȏ hekȏn einai ouk apodeiliasȏ); and I entreat you not to scorn me (alla mȇ me atimasȇis), but to apply your mind to the utmost (alla panti tropȏi prosschȏn ton noun hoti malista), and tell me the truth (nun eipe tȇn alȇtheian). For, if any man knows, you are he (oistha gar eiper tis allos anthrȏpȏn); and therefore I must hold you fast (kai ouk apheteos ei), like Proteus (hȏsper ho Prȏteus), until you tell (prin an eipȇis). If you had not certainly known (ei gar mȇ ȇidȇstha saphȏs) the nature of piety (to te hosion) and impiety (kai to anosion), I am confident that you would never (ouk estin hopȏs an pote), on behalf of a serf, have charged your aged father with murder (epecheirȇsas huper andros thȇtou andra presbutȇn patera diȏkathein phonou). You would not have run such a risk of doing wrong in the sight of the gods, and you would have had too much respect for the opinion of men (alla kai tous theous an edeisas parakinduneuein mȇ ouk orthȏs auto poiȇsois, kai tous anthrȏpous ȇischunthȇs). I am sure, therefore (nun de eu oida), that you know the nature of piety and impiety (hoti saphȏs oiei eidenai to te hosion kai mȇ). Speak out then (eipe oun), my dear Euthyphro (ȏ beltiste Euthuphrȏn), and do not hide (kai mȇ apokrupsȇi) your knowledge (hoti auto hȇgȇi).’ – Euth. ‘Another time (Eis authis toinun), Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates); for I am in a hurry (nun gar speudȏ poi), and must go now (kai moi hȏra apienai).’ (15c11-e4)

Socrates’s references to Euthypho in the Cratylus indicate that Euthyphro’s ‘another time’ was not just an excuse.