Φαῖδρος Phaedrus
c. 370 BC
A dialogue between Socrates and Phaedrus on the nature of the soul, the art of rhetoric, and the power of love.
The Setting
Socrates encounters Phaedrus outside the walls of Athens. Phaedrus has just come from hearing Lysias deliver a speech on love, and the two retreat to a shady spot beneath a plane tree beside the river Ilissus.
It is here, in this pastoral setting, that Socrates will deliver his famous discourses on love and the soul—speeches that would echo through the centuries.
On the Nature of the Soul
All soul is immortal. For that which is ever moving is immortal; but that which moves something else, and is moved by something else, in ceasing to move ceases also to live. Only that which moves itself never ceases to move, and this is also the source and first principle of motion for all other things.
"The soul is immortal, for that which is ever in motion is immortal."
The Allegory of the Charioteer
Let us liken the soul to the composite nature of a pair of winged horses and a charioteer. Now the horses and charioteers of the gods are all good and of good descent, but those of other races are mixed.
The human charioteer drives a pair: one of the horses is noble and good, and of good breed, while the other is of opposite character. Thus for us the task of driving is necessarily difficult and troublesome.
"One horse is noble and of good stock; the other is ignoble and of ignoble stock."
The white horse represents reason and the noble passions; the black horse represents the appetites and ignoble desires. The charioteer is the rational soul, struggling to guide both horses toward the heavens.
On Divine Madness
There is a madness which is a divine gift. The greatest blessings come to us through madness, when it is given as a gift of the gods. The prophetess at Delphi and the priestesses at Dodona have conferred many great benefits upon Greece in their madness.
And there is a fourth kind of madness—that of the lover. When a man sees beauty here on earth and is reminded of true beauty, he begins to grow wings. This is the best and noblest of all the forms of divine possession.
"Madness, provided it comes as a gift of heaven, is the channel by which we receive the greatest blessings."
On Writing and Memory
Socrates tells the story of Theuth, the Egyptian god who invented writing. Theuth presented his invention to King Thamus as a remedy for memory. But the king replied:
"This invention will produce forgetfulness in the souls of those who learn it, because they will not need to exercise their memories."
Writing is like painting: the creations of the painter stand before us as if alive, but if you ask them a question, they maintain a solemn silence. And so it is with written words; they seem to speak to you as if they were intelligent, but if you question them, they always say only one and the same thing.
On True Rhetoric
True rhetoric must be based on truth and knowledge of the soul. The orator who does not know the truth will chase shadows. He must understand the nature of the soul he addresses—just as a physician must understand the body he treats.
Until a man knows the truth about each thing he speaks or writes about, and is able to define it; until he can divide things by classes and distinguish the nature of each; until he can persuade with speech fitted to each soul—until then he will never be a true master of rhetoric.
"A man must know the truth about all the things of which he speaks or writes."
Conclusion
As the afternoon shadows lengthen, Socrates offers a prayer: "Beloved Pan, and all you other gods who dwell in this place, grant me beauty in the inner soul; and may the outward and inward man be at one."
This prayer captures the essence of the dialogue: the harmony of soul and body, reason and passion, truth and beauty. The wise man seeks not external goods, but the ordering of his inner life.
Τέλος The End
Written in Athens, c. 370 BC
End of Excerpts
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