Cratylus

Plato

Plato in Twelve Volumes, Vol. 4 translated by Harold North Fowler; Introduction by W.R.M. Lamb. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann Ltd. 1926.

Hermogenes. So it seems, Socrates.

Socrates. And his father’s name also appears to be in accordance with nature.

Hermogenes. It seems so.

Socrates. Yes, for Agamemnon (admirable for remaining) is one who would resolve to toil to the end and to endure, putting the finish upon his resolution by virtue. And a proof of this is his long retention of the host at Troy and his endurance. So the name Agamemnon denotes that this man is admirable for remaining. And so, too, the name of Atreus is likely to be correct; for his murder of Chrysippus and the cruelty of his acts to Thyestes are all damaging and ruinous (ἀτηρά) to his virtue. Now the form of his name is slightly deflected and hidden, so that it does not make the man’s nature plain to every one; but to those who understand about names it makes the meaning of Atreus plain enough; for indeed in view of his stubbornness (ἀτειρές) and fearlessness (ἄτρεστον) and ruinous acts (ἀτηρά) the name is correctly given to him on every ground. And I think Pelops also has a fitting name; for this name means that he who sees only what is near deserves this designation.

Hermogenes. How is that?

Socrates. Why it is said of him that in murdering Myrtilus he was quite unable to forecast or foresee the ultimate effects upon his whole race, and all the misery with which it was overwhelmed, because he saw only the near at hand and the immediate— that is to say, πέλας (near)—in his eagerness to win by all means the hand of Hippodameia. And any one would think the name of Tantalus was given rightly and in accordance with nature, if the stories about him are true.

Hermogenes. What are the stories?

Socrates. The many terrible misfortunes that happened to him both in his life, the last of which was the utter overthrow of his country, and in Hades, after his death, the balancing (ταλαντεία) of the stone above his head, in wonderful agreement with his name; and it seems exactly as if someone who wished to call him most wretched (ταλάντατον) disguised the name and said Tantalus instead; in some such way as that chance seems to have affected his name in the legend.

Socrates. And his father also, who is said to be Zeus, appears to have a very excellent name, but it is not easy to understand; for the name of Zeus is exactly like a sentence; we divide it into two parts, and some of us use one part, others the other; for some call him Zena (Ζῆνα), and others Dia (Δία); but the two in combination express the nature of the god, which is just what we said a name should be able to do. For certainly no one is so much the author of life (ζῆν) for us and all others as the ruler and king of all. Thus this god is correctly named, through whom (διʼ ὅν) all living beings have the gift of life (ζῆν). But, as I say, the name is divided, though it is one name, into the two parts, Dia and Zena. And it might seem, at first hearing, highly irreverent to call him the son of Cronus and reasonable to say that Zeus is the offspring of some great intellect; and so he is, for κόρος (for Κρόνος) signifies not child, but the purity (καθαρόν) and unblemished nature of his mind. And Cronus, according to tradition, is the son of Uranus; but the upward gaze is rightly called by the name urania (οὐρανία), looking at the things above (ὁρῶ τὰ ἄνω), and the astronomers say, Hermogenes, that from this looking people acquire a pure mind, and Uranus is correctly named. If I remembered the genealogy of Hesiod and the still earlier ancestors of the gods he mentions, I would have gone on examining the correctness of their names until I had made a complete trial whether this wisdom which has suddenly come to me, I know not whence, will fail or not.

Hermogenes. Indeed, Socrates, you do seem to me to be uttering oracles, exactly like an inspired prophet.

Socrates. Yes, Hermogenes, and I am convinced that the inspiration came to me from Euthyphro the Prospaltian. For I was with him and listening to him a long time early this morning. So he must have been inspired, and he not only filled my ears but took possession of my soul with his superhuman wisdom. So I think this is our duty: we ought today to make use of this wisdom and finish the investigation of names, but tomorrow, if the rest of you agree, we will conjure it away and purify ourselves, when we have found some one, whether priest or sophist, who is skilled in that kind of purifying.

Hermogenes. I agree, for I should be very glad to hear the rest of the talk about names.

Socrates. Very well. Then since we have outlined a general plan of investigation, where shall we begin, that we may discover whether the names themselves will bear witness that they are not at all distributed at haphazard, but have a certain correctness? Now the names of heroes and men might perhaps prove deceptive; for they are often given because they were names of ancestors, and in some cases, as we said in the beginning, they are quite inappropriate; many, too, are given as the expression of a prayer, such as Eutychides (fortunate), Sosias (saviour), Theophilus (beloved of God), and many others. I think we had better disregard such as these; but we are most likely to find the correct names in the nature of the eternal and absolute; for there the names ought to have been given with the greatest care, and perhaps some of them were given by a power more divine than is that of men.

Hermogenes. I think you are right, Socrates.

Socrates. Then is it not proper to begin with the gods and see how the gods are rightly called by that name?

Hermogenes. That is reasonable.

Socrates. Something of this sort, then, is what I suspect: I think the earliest men in Greece believed only in those gods in whom many foreigners believe today— sun, moon, earth, stars, and sky. They saw that all these were always moving in their courses and running, and so they called them gods (θεούς) from this running (θεῖν) nature; then afterwards, when they gained knowledge of the other gods, they called them all by the same name. Is that likely to be true, or not?

Hermogenes. Yes, very likely.

Socrates. What shall we consider next?

Hermogenes. Spirits, obviously.

Socrates. Hermogenes, what does the name spirits really mean? See if you think there is anything in what I am going to say.

Hermogenes. Go on and say it.

Socrates. Do you remember who Hesiod says the spirits are?

Hermogenes. I do not recall it.

Socrates. Nor that he says a golden race was the first race of men to be born?

Hermogenes. Yes, I do know that.

Socrates. Well, he says of it:

  1. But since Fate has covered up this race,
  1. They are called holy spirits under the earth,
  2. Noble, averters of evil, guardians of mortal men.
Hes. WD 122 ff

Hermogenes. What of that?

Socrates. Why, I think he means that the golden race was not made of gold, but was good and beautiful. And I regard it as a proof of this that he further says we are the iron race.

Hermogenes. True.

Socrates. Don’t you suppose that if anyone of our day is good, Hesiod would say he was of that golden race?

Hermogenes. Quite likely.

Socrates. But the good are the wise, are they not?

Hermogenes. Yes, they are the wise.

Socrates. This, then, I think, is what he certainly means to say of the spirits: because they were wise and knowing (δαήμονες) he called them spirits (δαίμονες) and in the old form of our language the two words are the same. Now he and all the other poets are right, who say that when a good man dies he has a great portion and honor among the dead, and becomes a spirit, a name which is in accordance with the other name of wisdom. And so I assert that every good man, whether living or dead, is of spiritual nature, and is rightly called a spirit.

Hermogenes. And I, Socrates, believe I quite agree with you in that. But what is the word hero?

Socrates. That is easy to understand; for the name has been but slightly changed, and indicates their origin from love (ἔρως).

Hermogenes. What do you mean?

Socrates. Why, they were all born because a god fell in love with a mortal woman, or a mortal man with a goddess. Now if you consider the word hero also in the old Attic pronunciation,[*](The old Attic alphabet was officially given up in favour of the Ionic alphabet in 404 or 403 B.C. The Attic for of the word hero is ἥρος, that of Eros ἔρως. Plato seems to think there was a change in pronunciation, as well as in spelling, and indeed that is quite possible. Or Plato may simply be confusing pronunciation with spelling, as he seems to do in several passages of this dialogue (cf. especially 410).) you will understand better; for that will show you that it has been only slightly altered from the name of love (Eros), the source from which the heroes spring, to make a name for them. And either this is the reason why they are called heroes, or it is because they were wise and clever orators and dialecticians, able to ask questions (ἐρωτᾶν), for εἴρειν is the same as λέγειν (speak). Therefore, when their name is spoken in the Attic dialect, which I was mentioning just now, the heroes turn out to be orators and askers of questions, so that the heroic race proves to be a race of orators and sophists. That is easy to understand, but the case of men, and the reason why they are called men (ἄνθρωποι), is more difficult. Can you tell me what it is?

Hermogenes. No, my friend, I cannot; and even if I might perhaps find out, I shall not try, because I think you are more likely to find out than I am.