Persuasion in Ancient Greece

Andrew Scholtz, Instructor

Course Readings. . .

Selections from the Sophists

select reading. . . Preliminary Notes Plato Apology Archelaus Protagoras Antiphon Sophist Critias (Euripides?) Gorgias ... on Non-Being ... on Tragedy and Deception ... Palamedes ... Epitaphios ... Helen

Preliminary Notes to Readings

Testimonium (test.) means an ancient source of information on the life and teachings of a figure; fragment (fr.) means a quotation or close paraphrase, often including the context from which it was extracted. Most texts include a brief study guide prefaced to them ("Instructor's Preface").

In what follows, instructor's commentary-explanation is italicized and between square brackets [like so], or else it is given in "Instructor's Preface[s]." Where useful to point out, the Greek being translated is italicized and enclosed in parentheses: "I shall now proceed to my first point (logos)," Gorgias Palamedes. It should, in other words, be easy to distinguish between the ancient texts themselves and my discussion of same.

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Plato

from the Apology

Instructor's Preface

The year is 399 BCE. Socrates, accused of impiety (specifically, of teaching the young not to honor the gods of the state), is on trial for his life. It seems that in Plato's fictionalized version of speeches delivered by Socrates at the trial, Socrates claims that the source of the trouble for him are rumors that he has something to do with the freethinking, tradition-challenging sophistic movement. Socrates, though, will have none of it, and so tells the court that he has, in a sense, been "framed " — accused of teaching scientific and other subjects when (so he claims) he has never done anything of the sort, nor does he take any interest in the physical sciences or the like. He argues, in other words, that he is not, nor has he ever been, a sophist.

From our perspective, that is to confuse the sophistic movement with the "Presocratics," who were interested in the physical and metaphysical causes of things. But to the average "Athenian on the street," the distinction may not have been terribly meaningful.

The value of the passage is that it illustrates how sophists were popularly conceived.

TEXT (trans. Benjamin Jowett, with changes)

[18e) Well, then, I must make my defense, (19a) and endeavor to clear away in a short time a slander which has lasted a long time. May I succeed, if to succeed be for my good and yours, or likely to avail me in my cause! The task is not an easy one; I quite understand the nature of it. And so leaving the event with God, in obedience to the law I will now make my defense.

I will begin at the beginning, and ask what is the accusation which has given rise to the slander of me, (19b) and in fact has encouraged Meletus to proffer this charge against me. Well, what do the slanderers say? They shall be my prosecutors, and I will sum up their words in an affidavit: 'Socrates is an evildoer, and a curious person, who searches into things under the earth and in heaven, and he makes the weaker argument (logos) appear the stronger; and he teaches the aforesaid doctrines to others.' (19c) Such is the nature of the accusation: it is just what you have yourselves seen in the comedy of Aristophanes [Socrates means Aristophanes' Clouds], who has introduced a man whom he calls Socrates, going about and saying that he walks in air, and talking a deal of nonsense concerning matters of which I do not pretend to know either much or little — not that I mean to speak disparagingly of any one who is a student of natural philosophy. I should be very sorry if Meletus could bring so grave a charge against me. But the simple truth is, O Athenians, that I have nothing to do with scientific speculations. (19d) Very many of those here present are witnesses to the truth of this, and to them I appeal. Speak then, you who have heard me, and tell your neighbors whether any of you have ever known me to hold forth in few words or in many upon such matters. You hear their answer. And from what they say of this part of the charge you will be able to judge of the truth of the rest.

Indeed, there is little foundation for the report that I am a teacher, and take money; this accusation has no more truth in it than the other. (19e) Although, if a man were really able to instruct mankind, to receive money for giving instruction would, in my opinion, be an honor to him. There is Gorgias of Leontinoi, and Prodicus of Ceos, and Hippias of Elis, who go the round of the cities, and are able to persuade the young men to cease keeping company with their own citizens (20a) by whom they might be taught for nothing, and come to them whom they not only pay, but are thankful if they may be allowed to pay them.

There is at this time a philosopher from Paros residing here in Athens, of whom I have heard, and I came to hear of him as follows. I came across a man who has spent a world of money on the sophists, I mean Callias, the son of Hipponicus, and knowing that he had sons, I asked him: 'Callias,' I said, 'if your two sons were foals or calves, there would be no difficulty in finding someone (20b) to put over them. We should hire a trainer of horses, or a farmer probably, who would improve and perfect them in their own proper virtue and excellence; but as they are human beings, whom are you thinking of placing over them? Is there any one who understands human and political virtue? You must have thought about the matter, for you have sons; is there any one?'

'There is,' he said.

'Who is he?' said I, 'and of what country, and what does he charge?'

'Evenus the Parian,' he replied; 'he is the man, and his charge is five minae.'

(20c) Happy is Evenus, I said to myself, if he really has this wisdom, and teaches at such a moderate charge. Had I the same, I should have been very proud and conceited; but the truth is that I have no knowledge of the kind.

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Archelaus of Athens

Test. 1 D-K

[Diogenes Laertius is citing some of Archelaus' teachings.] And that what is just (to dikaion) is such not by nature (phusis), but by convention (nomos).

[I.e., things are not intrinsically just or unjust, but are so because habits of thought, traditional notions, etc. have made them that way.]

Protagoras

[Protagoras of Abdera (died late 400s) is generally regarded as the first of the great sophists. A friend of Pericles, the statesman appointed him to draw up a constitution for Thurii, a Panhellenic colony in Italy. Protagoras was especially known for his relativism.]

Fragment 1 D-K: Truth or Refutations, opening sentence quoted and discussed in Plato's Theaetetus (152a, trans. A. Scholtz)

(Socrates) For he [Protagoras] says that:

"Human beings are the measure of all things, of the things that are, that they are [possibly "how they are"], of the things that are not, that they are not [possibly "how they are not"]."

Doubtless you have read him.

(Theaetetus) I have, and often.

(Socrates) Well then, I suppose what he is saying is that the way everything seems to to me, that's the way everything actually is — for me. And the way things seem to you, that's how they are for you. But you and I are human beings, no? . . . So, is it not the case that sometimes when the wind is blowing, one of us shivers, the other doesn't, or one very little, another a great deal?

(Theaetetus) Of course!

(Socrates) So, shall we say that the wind is cold or is not cold, in and of itself? Or shall we be persuaded (peithein) by Protagoras when he tells us that it is cold to the person who shivers, and not cold to the person who does not shiver?

(Theaetetus) That seems right.

(Socrates) Therefore, as it appears to each, so it is?

(Theaetetus) Yes.

(Socrates) And the word "appears" simply means "is perceived"?

(Theaetetus) Just so.

(Socrates) Then appearances (phantasia) and perception are the same thing, and this applies to hot winds as well, and all such. Thus how each of us perceives things, that's how they are likely to be for each of us.

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Fragment 4 D-K, On the Gods (trans. A. Scholtz)

Concerning the gods, I cannot know whether they exist, or whether they do not exist, or of what kind they are in form. For there are many barriers to knowledge, including the obscurity of the subject and the shortness of human life.

Fragment 6 D-K, from the Art of Verbal Sparring (Tekhne eristike, trans. A. Scholtz)

6 From Cicero's Brutus: "They say that Protagoras composed ready-to-use arguments pro and contra on well known topics. These sorts of arguments we now call 'common places' [loci communes, in Greek, koinoi topoi]."

6a: For every topic of debate there are two, mutually contradictory positions (logoi).

6b . . . to make the weaker argument (logos) the stronger . . . . [I.e., skill at making an unconvincing claim (e.g., pigs can fly) appear convincing. Compare "Worse Argument" in Aristophanes' Clouds.]

Testimonium 21a (from Plato's Theaetetus, trans. A. Scholtz)

[How might skill at making something appear to be such-and-such actually be a useful skill in the city? What is it the sophistically educated statesman can do for his fellow citizens? How is he like a physician? How might sophistry actually be a good thing?]

166d ff. For I [Socrates pretends to be Protagoras defending his teachings] declare that the truth is as I have written, and that each of us is a measure of the things that are and of the things that are not. Yet one man may be a thousand times better than another in proportion as different things are and appear to him. And I am far from saying that wisdom and the wise man have no existence; but I say that the wise man is he who makes the evils which appear and are to a man, into goods which are and appear to him.

167b And ... [I say that wise men] are the physicians of the human body, and the farmers of plants — for the farmers also take away the evil and disordered sensations of plants, and infuse into them good and healthy sensations — aye and true ones; and the wise and good public speakers (rhetores) make the good instead of the evil to seem just to cities; for whatever appears to a city to be just and fair, so long as it is regarded as such, is just and fair to it; but the teacher of wisdom causes the good to take the place of the evil, both in appearance and in reality. And in like manner the sophist who is able to train his pupils in this spirit is a wise man, and deserves to be well paid by them. And so one man is wiser than another, but no one actually reaches false judgments. And you, whether you like it or not, must endure to be a measure. On these foundations the argument (logos) stands firm. (Translated Benjamin Jowett, with changes)

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Antiphon Sophist

Instructor's Preface

We can view Antiphon as a rhetorician and original thinker. For money, Antiphon "ghostwrote" courtroom speeches for clients (was a "logographer"), some of which we have. After the the oligarchic coup of 411, he stood trial for his alleged part in that plot. In his defense, Antiphon asked why a speech-writer like himself, a breed abhorrent to oligarchs everywhere, would want to support such a constitution. Thucydides expresses great admiration for the speech, parts of which we have. The jury, however, evidently didn't buy it, as they put him to death.

Antiphon also produced sets of fictitious sample speeches, the Tetralogies, to illustrate techniques available to those arguing homicide cases. In the most famous of these, a speaker "spins" an accidental homicide in such a way as to make the victim, not the accused, to blame. By stepping in front of a lethal projectile, the victim both caused his own death and punished the killer, himself. If you like (i.e., optional, not required), you can read the second Tetralogy by clicking here; scroll about a quarter of the way down.

TEXTS

From fragment 44a D-K (Truth, trans. A. Scholtz)

[A compare-and-contrast of human laws/conventions (nomoi), and the laws of nature (phusis) — "scientific law" and the like. What assumptions seem to lie behind the following discussion? What are the implications? How do the two types of "law" make a difference (or fail to make a difference) for a person? Where are the gods in all this? What would Hesiod think?]

Justice (dikaiosune) consists in not transgressing the conventions/ordinances (ta nomima) of the city of which one is a citizen. One will therefore best be able to comport oneself in harmony with justice if one, when in the presence of witnesses, obeys the great laws (nomoi), but when alone, if one obeys the ordinances of nature (phusis). The former are artificial, the latter come about by the necessity of nature. And the ordinances of the laws (i.e., of artificial, human laws) come about by human consent: they do not come into being by natural processes. Whereas the ordinances of nature represent natural developments: they are not consented to. And so if one transgresses (human) ordinances without being noticed by those who consent to the laws, one escapes shame and punishment. But if one is detected in the act, then there is no escape. But if one tries to violate what is possible under the laws ordained by nature, even if one escapes human notice, the harm is no less, or if all people know, the harm is no greater.

[We might say that there are physical impossibilities which the laws of nature (Antiphon's "natural law") will always prevent from occurring — that's "natural" justice. That differs from, say, paying your taxes, where enforcement necessitates detection.]

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Fragment 61 D-K (from On Concord, trans. A. Scholtz)

Nothing is worse for human beings than anarchy (anarkhia, "lack of governance"). Recognizing this, the people of times past made it their habit from the start to make sure children were governed (arkhesthai) and did what they were told, so that when they grew up, they would not be overwhelmed by so great a change (?).

Critias (Euripides?): Fragment 25 D-K (Sisyphus, a satyr play)

Instructor's Preface

Critias (died 404 BCE) was a pupil of Socrates and a notorious oligarch. When he and fellow oligarchs dissolved democracy in 404, they put to death a great many democrats and a few oligarchs too. But Critias was also a political thinker and, evidently, a playwright. (The authorship of this fragment is debated; it might have been written by Euripides the tragedian.)

At any rate, in this fragment from Critias'/Euripides' Sisyphus (a "satyr play"), we find a fascinating argument as to the origins of religion. Now, satyr plays were tragedies of a sort — but funny. In this fragment, we have no indication of speaker, though we can guess it is Sisyphus, a master trickster who is said to have tricked his wife into not performing funeral rites for him on his death — that so Hades (god of the dead) would be forced to send him back to earth to punish his wife. On returning to earth, however, Sisyphus simply resumed life as usual until he died a second time, whereupon a now wiser Hades assigned him the task of forever rolling a stone up a hill to give Sisyphus something to do.

The speaker could, then, be Sisyphus trying to convince his wife not to bury him because divine law (which ordains, among other things, burial) is really just a ruse. (Though in the play, it turns out to be for real!)

But the point really isn't whether there really are or aren't gods, but the power of religion as a force for social control — a very sophistic idea.

QUESTION: How might this reading relate to the Protagoras and Antiphon readings? To sophistic notions of human progress? To the public role of men skilled in logos? To the whole idea of nomos ("law") as manifestation and instrument of justice?

TEXT (trans. A. Scholtz)

(Unknown speaker — Sisyphus?) There was a time when human life was disorderly and bestial and the slave of force; a time when no reward accrued to the good, nor any penalty to the wicked. The next step was, I think, for human beings to establish legally sanctioned punishments, so that justice (dike) might be tyrant (turannos) of all alike, and make outrage its slave. Thus if anyone were to commit a crime, he or she would be punished.

Next, since the laws deterred human beings from using violence (bia) when acting out in the open — yet people continued to commit crime in secret, — just then, it seems to me, some man clever and wise first devised fear of the gods for mortals to deter the wicked, even those acting or speaking or thinking something in secret. And so at that point he introduced religion, saying:

"There is a divine being vigorous with undying life, a being capable of hearing and seeing with his mind, a being of surpassing intelligence in every way, one possessing a divine nature — a being who will hear everything said by mortals, and will be able to see everything done. And, if you plan some evil act in silence, you will not escape the notice of the gods. For they possess surpassing intelligence."

With these words, he introduced a most pleasing doctrine, hiding the truth with a false tale (logos). And he asserted that the gods dwell in that place whose name he could use to strike fear in human hearts. For he noticed that thence come terrors to human beings, as do helps for a life of hard work — I mean the realms on high, where he perceived lightnings, and the terrifying thunderclaps, and the starry-faced vault of heaven, and the beautiful embroidery of Time, skilled craftsman; the place whence comes the brilliant mass of the sun, and the wet rain falling to earth. Such are the terrors with which he surrounded humanity, such the terrors with which, through speech (logos), he could find a fair abode and a fine and fitting place for his god. And with laws he extinguished lawlessness . . . .

Just so, I think, did someone first persuade (peithein) mortals to believe in the race of gods.

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Gorgias

[Gorgias of Leontinoi (ca. 483-ca. 376 BCE — 100+ years!!) was a statesman, speaker, thinker, and teacher. Noted for his elaborate style of oratory, his embassy to Athens created a sensation, and he seems to have done very well as a rhetoric teacher there. He was also known for teaching proof by probability.]

Testimonium 4 (Diodorus Siculus 12.53.1 ff., trans. A. Scholtz)

(427 BCE) On Sicily during that period, the people of Leontinoi, a city colonized from from Chalcis by kin of the Athenians, happened to be under attack by Syracuse (another Greek city of Sicily). Being hard pressed by war, and in danger of falling under the power of Syracuse with its overwhelming forces, the people of Leontinoi sent out ambassadors to Athens to request immediate aid from the Athenians to rescue their city from danger. (2) And the chief ambassador among the men sent was the orator Gorgias, by far the most eminent of those skilled in speech at that time. He was the first to devise handbooks of rhetoric, and was so superior to all others in sophistic that he could command a fee of a hundred minas (pretty high!) from his pupils.

And so this man came to Athens, where he went before the assembly. Discussing alliance with the Athenians, he astounded his audience with his unfamiliar style of speech, the Athenians themselves being natural orators and devotees of the art. (4) For Gorgias was the first to employ figures of speech both extravagant and unusual in their ingenuity: striking contrasts (antitheseis), and balanced clauses of equal or near-equal length, and end-rhyme, and other such effects, which at that time were admired because of their novelty of construction, but which now seem overdone, and which often come across as ridiculous and excessive. (5) At last having persuaded (peithein) the Athenians to form an alliance with the people of Leontinoi, that man, admired for his skill in rhetoric at Athens, made the return trip back to Leontinoi.

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On Non-Being or On Nature (fr. 3 D-K)

Instructor's Preface

Whether you find it tedious, baffling, or maybe weirdly entertaining, Gorgias' On Non-Being or On Nature is very important. If it doesn't make sense, never fear: its sense turns out to be debatable. But it's important that you at least "experience" the argument. (Don't bother reading it over and over to "get" it; just read it once.)

The first thing we need to acknowledge is that any argument starting with a statement like "Nothing is" clearly deals in paradox. And although we lack Gorgias' original text, we know the work well enough from summaries to outline Gorgias' paradoxes somewhat as follows:

1. Nothing exists, supported by arguments like:
   • What-is (to on) needs somehow to be understood in relation to things other than itself (i.e., as bounded by them, as derived from them, etc.).
   • But that which is other than what-is has to be what-is-not (to me on).
   • But nothing can be bounded by, derived from, etc., what-is-not.
   • Therefore nothing exists.
2. Yet even if anything did exist, it could not be known.
   • One can just as easily think of unrealities (we might say, pigs that fly) as of what-is.
   • Thought, and thus knowledge, too, therefore have no special connection to what-is.
3. Yet even if anything could be known, it could not be communicated through words.
   • Language (logos) and external realities (what language describes), though not completely disconnected, in crucial ways belong to separate domains.
   • Unlike the senses, then, speech cannot connect us with what is "out there."
   • So when we tell others about anything, we communicate to them speech alone, not what speech is supposed to be about.
   • Language thus proves no proper medium for communicating the real.

In a sense, the paradox attenuates as we run through its steps, because each new step concedes a point implied to be closer to common opinion than the preceding. ("OK, so you don't buy, 'Nothing is.' I can deal with that! I just say, well, but it can't be known!") Yet the paradox also mounts the further down we go, as each next step is premised on what has, supposedly, been shown not to be.

As to the logic of it all, what we have here are proofs by "exhaustion" or "brute force": all possibilities but Gorgias' paradoxes are disproved. (Compare Sherlock Holmes: "When all the alternatives have been ruled out, whatever remains must be true, no matter how unlikely.") Now, modern critics may well want to point out various logical-linguistic missteps. So, for instance, the argument fails to note a problem that may well render the argument superfluous from the get-go, the error of using "is" (esti) in two, very different ways: as a connective ("God is good," theos estin agathos) and existentially ("God is / exists," esti theos). Then there's this business of positing "being" (or non-being) as an attribute of . . . being, hmmmm. But I suspect that Gorgias may already be onto it, that part of the point is to illustrate, even if he doesn't explain, missteps like those I've just described.

That, I suspect, is connected with what seems to be Gorgias' desire to take on Parmenides' doctrine of reality as an eternally existing oneness, a reality accessible only to thought. Gorgias seems, in other words, intent on exposing ontological arguments like the aforementioned (i.e., about the nature of "the real") as so much word play.

But there is more, as Gorgias ends with what is, clearly and interestingly, an exploration of the limits of verbal communication, logos. I would suggest that it is this last part, Gorgias' exploration of the limits of logos, that becomes the starting point for his Encomium of Helen, in which he expounds the power of logos (see below). Gorgias therefore challenges the notion that purely aprioristic discourse (think of geometry proofs) can put us in touch with material reality. But he may also be challenging the idea of scientific discourse (compare logos in Thucydides or the Hippocratics) as a medium for true communication because informed by accurate observation.

And lest we depreciate the On Non-Being as pure play, let's not forget how its third proposition, that logos cannot cannot adequately capture and convey reality as it is, strikingly anticipates Wittgenstein's insight that logic (which in many ways seems to be what Gorgias means by logos) describes ultimately not the world but ways of describing the world. (There is a very good comic-book illustration of Wittgenstein's point in the graphic novel Logicomix by Apostolos Doxiadis; click here.) But if we can view this as, originally, an epideixis, literally, a "show"-writing, then maybe the point is to ask not what Gorgias meant, but what he was trying to show. . . .

TEXT (= Sextus Empiricus Against the Schoolmasters 7.65-87, trans. A. Scholtz)

(65) In his work On Non-Being, also known as On Nature, Gorgias develops three main points in succession:

In the first place, that nothing is.

Second, that even if it is, it cannot be apprehended by a human being.

Third, that even if it can be apprehended, still, it cannot be communicated or explained to someone else.

(66) That nothing is he proves as follows:

If something is, it is either existent or non-existent, or else it is both existent and non-existent. But (as Gorgias will establish) neither is there the existent nor (he will add) the non-existent, nor the existent and the non-existent (which he will also show). Therefore, it is not the case that something is. [Already we seem to tread on Parmenidean ground. According to Parmenides, "Being is, but nothing is not" (fr. 6 D-K).]

(67) Note, then, that the non-existent is not. For if the non-existent is, it will at once be and not be. For, insofar as it is understood as not-being, it will not be. But insofar as it is not-being, it will, by contrast, be. But it is altogether absurd for something at once to be and not to be. Therefore, the non-existent is not. For these things [i.e., being and not-being] are opposites, each to the other. And if being turns out to be characteristic of the non-existent, then not-being will prove characteristic of being. Yet it cannot be that the existent is not. Therefore, neither will the non-existent be. [I think Gorgias simply means to acknowledge that there is paradox in saying, "What exists is not," and that this paradox holds implications for what we can posit about the non-existent. Gorgias will, at any rate, soon argue that "the existent is not."]

(68) Nor, for that matter, can we say that the existent is. For if the existent is, then it is eternal or it comes into being or it both is eternal and comes into being. But neither is it eternal, nor does it come into being, nor is it both things at once, as we shall see — whence it will follow that the existent is not. For if (let us say for argument's sake) the existent is eternal, then it does not have a beginning. (69) For everything that comes into being has a beginning. But the eternal, because it is by definition ungenerated, had no beginning. And lacking a beginning, it is without limit. But if it is without limit, it is nowhere. For if it is somewhere, there is something else (not it) in which it is. And so, being contained by something, the existent will no longer be limitless. For the container is greater than the thing contained, yet nothing is larger than the limitless. Therefore, the limitless does not exist anywhere. (70) Yet neither is it contained inside itself. For then the thing in it will be the same as that in which it is. [Container and contained will be the same], and the existent will then turn out to be two things: place and body. (For place is what a thing is in, whereas body is what is in that place.) But for the existent to be all that is quite absurd. Nor, for that matter, is the existent inside itself. Hence, if the existent is eternal, it is limitless. But if it is limitless, it is nowhere, and if it is nowhere, it is not. Therefore, if the existent is eternal, judging by its beginning [which, remember, anything eternal cannot have], it cannot be.

(71) Nor, for that matter, can the existent be brought into being. For if it has been brought into being, then either it has come from what exists or from what does not exist. But it cannot, on the one hand, have come from any existent thing. For if it exists, it has not come into being but already is. Nor has it come from a non-existent thing. For there is no way for the non-existent to give rise to anything else, since that which comes into being must perforce have some sort of beginning. [Something that doesn't exist can't cause, nor can it represent the "embryonic" form of, an existing thing. Later philosophy will say, "Nothing comes from nothing."] Neither, then, is the existent a thing brought into being. (72) By the same token, neither can it be be both things, at once eternal and brought into being. For those are separate from each other. And if the existent is eternal, then it has not been brought into being. And if it has been brought into being, then it is not eternal. Therefore, if the existent is neither eternal nor generated nor both things at once, the existent will not be.

(73) Consider this, too. If the existent is, it is either one or many. But it is neither one nor many, as will be explained — whence it will follow that the existent is not. For if it is one, then it is either a quantity or an extent or a magnitude or a body. Yet if it is any of these, then it is not one. Rather, if a quantity, then it will be divisible, or if an extent, separable into sections. So, too, if understood as magnitude, then it will not be immune to division. And if it turns out to be body, it will be three-fold. For it will have length, width, and depth. But it is absurd to say that the existent is none of these things. Thus the existent is not.

(74) And yet neither is it many. For if the one does not exist, then neither do the many. For a multitude consists of a bringing together (sunthesis) of individual units. Therefore, if the one is divisible, so, too, can the many as a collection be divided. But the truth is that neither the existent nor the non-existent is, as will become quite clear. (75) As to the fact that both, namely, the existent and the non-existent, are not, that can readily be reasoned. For if, in fact, both the non-existent and the existent are, the non-existent will be the same as the existent, insofar as it exists. And therefore, neither thing is. For the same line of reasoning applies to the non-existent, that it is not. But the same set of considerations have also been shown to apply to the existent. Therefore, it, too, will not be. (76) On the contrary, if the existent is the same as the non-existent, it cannot be both [understand, two different things at once]. For if it is both, then it is not the same, and if it is the same, then it is not both [i.e., "both" implies two different things, whereas "same" implies one thing ("one and the same"), though we use different names for it]. Hence it follows that nothing is. For if neither the existent is, nor the non-existent, nor both, and if that is all that can be conceived of [if that exhausts all possible theories], then nothing is.

(77) As to the argument that, even if anything exists, it is unknowable and inaccessible to human thought, that we must prove next.

For if (says Gorgias) the things that can be thought are not existent things, the existent cannot be thought. And that makes sense. For we are dealing with analogous modes of reasoning. So if objects of thought can be white, then so can white things be objects of thought. Just so, if non-existent things could be objects of thought, then necessarily existent things could be objects inaccessible to thought.

[Gorgias, it seems, was trying to show that we need to be consistent in our reasoning, and that a seeming paradox is at least conceivable. We all grant, then, (1) that if an X can be an A, then an A can be an X. So, by similar logic, (2) if a not-B can be an X, then a not-X can be a B. Now, the only real difference between (1) and (2) is that in (2), there's a "not" that stays on the left side of the equation, which, as a constant element, doesn't really change the logic. (2) is, therefore, very much like (1), and both are like saying, "If a whoozit can be a whatsit, then a whatsit can be a whoozit." Replace X with "thinkable," A, with "white," and B with "existent," and we have Gorgias' formulation. All that means is that "reality" as something beyond thought is at least logically conceivable, which sets up a more counterintuitive claim soon to follow. . . .]

(78) Therefore, the following statement is sound and preserves logical consistency, namely, "If what is thought includes things that are not, then what is includes things that are not thought." But in fact, the things that are thought (for the argument needs to start from there) are not the things that are, as we shall prove — whence it will follow that the existent is a thing not thought. And indeed, the fact that what is thought is not can be made altogether plain. [Gorgias directly confronts Parmenides' idea that if a thing can be thought, then it must also be ("Thinking and being are the same," fr. 3 D-K).] (79) For if what is thought is, then all things that are thought also are, and are just the way someone thinks them. But that's absurd. For no one would seriously entertain the idea of a person flying, or of chariots coursing across the sea [impossibilities in Gorgias' day]. Therefore, the criterion for what-is is not that it is thought. [Thinking won't by itself make it so.]

(80) Further, if what is thought is existent, then what is non-existent will not be thought. For it turns out that we are dealing here with opposites: the non-existent is the opposite of the existent. And that provides all the proof we need for the following: that if what is can be thought, then one could not think of non-existent things. But that is absurd. For Scylla and Chimera [i.e., fictitious, impossible creatures of myth] and a great many non-existent things can be thought. Hence thinkability does not prove existence.

(81) And just as the things that are seen are described as visible because they are seen, and the things that are heard are described as audible because they are heard, and just as we do not reject the visible because it is not heard, nor dismiss the audible because it is not seen (for each thing ought to be judged by that sensory faculty proper to it, and not by another), just so the mere fact that something thought is invisible or inaudible will not stop it from existing. For a thing is apprehended by that faculty of apprehension proper to it. (82) If, then, someone thinks of chariots coursing across the sea, even if he does not have them in view, still, he must believe that there are chariots coursing across the sea. But that is absurd. Therefore, what exists is not a thing that is thought, nor is it grasped by the mind. [Think of it this way. Thought and knowledge are intimately connected. Yet thought and reality are not. What's, then, to connect knowledge to reality?]

(83) And then there is this: if it could be grasped by the mind, still, it could not be reported to another. [This is Gorgias' third point.]

For if what exists is visible and audible and generally perceivable, if, in other words, it exists out there, then visible things are graspable by sight, and audible things, by sound, and not vice versa. For how can the information about these things be conveyed by other means? [I.e., by means other than the appropriate sensory faculty. He wants to show that logos has no business trying.] (84) Of course, speech (logos) is how we convey information. Yet speech does not equate with objects that exist out there. Therefore, we do not inform those next to us about what exists; rather, we convey to them speech, which is different from substances. And so, just as the visible will not become the audible, or vice versa, just so, since what exists does so in a domain external to non-substances [literally, "since the existent subsists outside"], it will not be transformed into any utterance [logos] of ours. [Gorgias is talking about speech and the realities speech addresses as occupying separate domains.] (85) And if the thing to be communicated is not itself speech, then it cannot be made known to another person.

To be sure, speech (so he says) is composed of impressions that come to us from the outside, that is, from sense perception. For from our encounter with taste arises within us speech concerning that quality, and from the sight of color, speech having to do with color. But if that is the case, then speech does not inform us about external reality, rather, external reality informs our speech. (86) And indeed, it is quite impossible to affirm that speech operates on a material plane in the same way that vision and hearing do, or that, as a consequence of its material basis, speech can convey substances or realities. For, says Gorgias, even if speech possesses substance, still, it differs from all the other substances, and the difference between visible bodies and speech is extreme. For the visible is apprehended through one faculty, and speech, through yet another. Thus speech does not have a lot to say to us about substances, just as substances do not reveal the nature of other substances. [Think of it this way. Speech and the things we sense are not disconnected, but they are, in the end, incommensurable. For sense impressions, once they have been processed into speech, have been hopelessly degraded. As in a game of telephone, it's communication itself that causes the "message" to get lost.]

(87) And so Gorgias, saddled with doubts as compelling as these, dispenses with the criterion of truth. For there can be no criterion if we accept his arguments as to non-being and the impossibility of knowledge and the barrier nature has set against communication.

Addendum: Pseudo-Aristotle On Melissus, Xenophanes, and Gorgias 980b8-21

INSTRUCTOR'S SUMMARY-COMMENT. The passage in question (from ps.-Aristot. MXG) expands upon Gorgias' third argument, above ("Yet even if anything could be known, it could not be communicated through words").

From what we read in the On Melissus, Xenophanes, and Gorgias, Gorgias seems to have maintained that the only logos with the power to convey accurate information is that which takes place between persons already "in the know" and therefore able to understand — in effect, a superfluous logos. ("Tell me something I don't already know! Ha! You can't!") Otherwise, the power of logos resides in its ability to convey impressions (doxa), not realities. See the Helen, below.

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Fragment 23 D-K (trans. A. Scholtz)

[Gorgias is referring to the authors and audiences of tragic drama.]

Tragedy is a form of deception in which the deceiver is more righteous than the non-deceiver, and the deceived wiser than the undeceived.

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From Fragment 11a D-K, the Palamedes

Instructor's Preface

So as not to overwhelm you with Gorgias, I'll include just a bit of this very interesting speech, partly to illustrate proof by probability, which can be classed with the second of Aristotle's two main varieties of rhetorical proof (Rhetoric 1355b35-1356a20):

1. pisteis atekhnoi, literally "proofs not involving skill," i.e., involving no "valued-added" from the study of rhetoric. Aristotle means things like eye-witness testimony, torture, written contracts, etc. ("Just the facts.")
2. pisteis entekhnoi, literally "proofs involving skill," i.e, involving technical rhetoric's "value-added," as follows:
   1. Proof based on the seeming character or reliability of the speaker, who therefore has to be careful about self-presentation.
   2. Proof through manipulating the psychological state of the listener.
   3. Demonstrative proof, i.e., the fact or appearance of a cogently reasoned case. That will include what Aristotle terms enthymemes, "rhetorical syllogisms," or logic premised on probabilities, not certainties.

I also want to illustrate the prominence of speech (logos) as a theme in Gorgias, even in this supposed defense speech, which we need to understand as an example of epideixis. Let me briefly summarize. This is a fictitious oration by the mythical hero, Palamedes, whom Odysseus has charged with treason, and whom we find defending himself in a kind of court martial. According to myth, Odysseus, Palamedes' great rival among the Greeks fighting at Troy, contrived a fake "message" to prove that his rival had been in contact with the enemy.

TEXT (trans. A. Scholtz)

[In his prooimion, or introductory section, Palamedes hints at Odysseus' corrupt motives for prosecuting him, and hints as well that, for the jury to allow themselves to be persuaded by Odysseus, would be to bring shame on themselves, a theme he returns to near the end of his speech. Palamedes also insinuates that to rescue himself from an accusion as perplexing as this would require the help of an unscrupulous sophist! Finally, he alludes to the two-pronged character of the arguments that he'll offer: that the thing itself would have been very diffcult for him to carry off, that he lacked sufficient motive.]

(7) I shall now proceed to my first point (logos), namely, that I cannot have done this thing. First of all, it would have been necessary for there to have been a start to the treason, and that start would have had to be speech (logos). For prior to doing anything we're going to do, words (logos) need first to be exchanged. But if a meeting [i.e., with the enemy] had happened, still, how could there have been words? In what way could a meeting happen unless that man [Priam, king of the Trojans] had sent a messenger to me, or I to him? For without someone to bear the message, no message in writing will have arrived. But in fact, speech (logos) itself proves the impossibility of this communication. Let's assume that he and I are with each other, but how does that play out? Who is with whom? I'll tell you: A Greek with a foreigner. But how does the one listen to the other? How does the other speak to the one? I'll tell you: No how! We won't be able to understand each other's language (logos). Is there, then, an interpreter? That means yet a third witness to this necessarily secret meeting. (8) Alright, let's grant that, too (though, of course, it didn't happen). Still, it would have been necessary for pledges to be exchanged by these co-conspirators. Pledges, then, but in what form? What kind of oath? Who would place his trust in me, "Mr. Traitor"? Suppose, then that hostages were exchanged. [Hostages often served as human collateral for international agreements.] Who as hostages? I could have volunteered my brother, as there'd have been no one else. As for the foreigner [Priam], one of his sons. That would indeed have produced a solid agreement. But if that had happened, it would have been obvious to everyone!

[Palamedes goes on to argue that, among other things, for him to sell out the Greeks would have been for him to sell out everything he cherished most: his freedom, his family, his country, etc. But he also accuses Odysseus of concocting charges based not on facts but appearances (doxa) and inconsistent argument (logos).]

[Approaching the end of his speech, Palamedes now offers advice to the jury.] (34) As for you, you must pay attention not to words but facts, nor find for the prosecution with too hasty a decision, nor think that a brief moment [i.e., the duration of this trial] makes for a wiser judge than lengthy reflection, nor reckon slander more credible than direct proof. For it falls on honorable men to take pains not to go wrong, and still more, not to create a hopeless situation out of what could have been set right. And it can be set right if people think before they act, but if they act before they think, it's hopeless. And that's how it is whenever men put a man on trial for his life, which is precisely what you are doing now.

(35) So if argument (logos) could make the truth crystal clear to those listening, then what has been said would make a verdict easy to render. But since such is not the case [since logos does not offer clear proof], you must take care to watch out for my safety. You must, that is, put off your decision as long as it takes for you to reach a verdict fair and true. For you risk basing your opinion [lit., "grasping doxa"] on the mere appearance of wrongdoing, the kind of verdict that defines a juror's reputation (doxa). And men of honor prefer death to a shameful reputation (doxa). The one ends life, the other renders it diseased.

[etc.]

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Gorgias Epitaphios ("Funeral Oration," fr. 6)

Instructor's Preface

The following preserves nearly all that remains of what doubtless was a much longer whole. It will be our second epitaphios, or "speech by the grave"; the first was Thucydides' "Periclean Funeral Oration" (2.35-46). I include Gorgias' fragmentary epitaphios (which may have been intended for the purpose of epideixis, "demonstration," rather than a specific funeral) partly to illustrate rhetorical figures, in Greek, skhēmata. (More than one ancient commentator refers to these as gorgieia skhēmata, "Gorgianic figures," after the rhetorician best known for them.) In reading, see if you can detect where I try (struggle?) to map Gorgias' use of them.

First, an important stylistic concept:

Colon, (plural, cola), a word-grouping understood not as a grammatical but rhetorical unit. The point of cola is how they relate to — echo, reinforce, contrast with — each other. A colon can be as short as a single word, as in the following tricolon (= three cola in a row): "Friends, Romans, Countrymen" (Shakespeare). Cola can be phrase-length units, as in the following (also a tricolon): "of the people, by the people, for the people" (Lincoln). Or it can consist of clauses: "we can not dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow" (Lincoln).

Next, a catalogue of figures:

Anastrophe, when a colon begins with the same (or more or less the same) word or phrase the previous ended with: "The Government will not assail you. You can have no conflict without being yourselves the aggressors," Lincoln First Inaugural.

Antistrophe, the same word or words at the ends of successive cola ("to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together," King I Have a Dream).

Antithesis, phrases and / or sentiments whose contrast is set in high relief: "And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you — ask what you can do for your country" (Kennedy Inaugural Address)

Epanaphora, the use of the same word or words at the beginnings of successive cola: "Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana" (King I Have a Dream).

Homoioteleuton, rhetorical (as opposed to poetic) use of end-rhyme, especially in combination with antithesis, isocolon, or parisosis ("we can not dedicate, we can not consecrate," Lincoln Gettysburg Address).

Isocolon, the balancing of successive cola with precisely equal numbers of syllables ("we can not de-di-cate, we can not con-sec-rate" [6 and 6]).

Parisosis, the balancing of successive cola with nearly equal numbers of syllables ("we can not consecrate, we can not hallow").

Paronomasia, "(etymological) wordplay," i.e., the artful or witty use together of words sounding alike and (typically) of similar derivation, e.g., "Stars grinding, crumb by crumb, / Our own grist down to its bony face" (Sylvia Plath, All the Dead Dears — note "grinding" and "grist").

Rhetorical question, a statement posing as a question: "Who then will speak for the common good?" Barbara Jordan, 1976 Democratic National Convention Keynote Address. (ANSWER: We will, for we all must.)

Other likely figures of rhetoric, even if not mentioned above? (Click here for the "Glossary of Rhetorical Terms" page at the University of Kentucky Dept of Classics.)

Finally, a question. I have described this as an epideixis, a "show"-speech. But for all its showing, still, I wonder about the telling, what, in other words, the message might be. . . .

TEXT (trans. A. Scholtz)

For what did these men lack that men should have? What did they have that men should lack? May I find the power to say what I wish! May I find the wish to say what I must! — no target for the gods' penalty, no victim of human jealousy. For god breathed bravery into them, though death exacted a human fee from them. And often did they choose mild fairness over inflexible justice, often, fitting expression (logos) over strict legislation (nomos), deeming it an ordinance celestial, a law universal, to speak or to hold their tongue, to do or to leave undone, whatever was needed, whenever it was needful. Two virtues especially did they cultivate: brainpower and man-power, the former, intending, the latter, expending, serving those injustice afflicted, thwarting those injustice uplifted, proponents of the practical, exponents of the honorable, through judgment of right foiling madness of might, disciplined toward the disciplined, fearless against the fearless, terrifying amid the terrifying. To bear witness to this, behold: their trophy of triumph, their gift to the god — the sacrifice of themselves. No strangers were they to the spirit of war, to legitimate lust (eros), to the clash of arms, to the blessings of peace, justly devout toward the gods, attentively dutiful to parents, righteously fair toward comrades, firmly faithful to friends. Therefore, though they have died, the loss we feel has not. No, we who shall die still feel the undying absence of those no longer living.

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Gorgias Encomium of Helen ("discourse praising Helen," fr. 11 D-K)

Instructor's Introduction

The legend of the Trojan War told of how the Greeks, to punish Trojan Paris for absconding with the beautiful Helen, wife of Menelaus, sailed to Troy (a city in what is now Turkey) and, after a long siege, destroyed the city. But the war proved terribly destructive for the Greeks, too. The legend of the Trojan War was the central narrative of all Greek mythology.

In that narrative, Helen is mostly (not always) treated as having run off willingly with Paris, as the archetypal unfaithful wife. She was, then, traditionally held to blame for the disasters and loss of life associated with the Trojan War. Gorgias' praise of Helen is, therefore, paradoxical from the get-go.

But this praise very quickly becomes a speech in defense of Helen, as if Gorgias were her lawyer in a court of law. Gorgias enumerates four possible extenuating circumstances (implicitly an exhaustive list), any one of which is presented as capable of proving his "client's" innocence:

1. Tukhe, "fortune" or "divine agency."
2. Bia, i.e., forceful or violent abduction (she was kidnapped and raped).
3. Logos (she was seduced by the powers of speech).
4. Eros, i.e., "lust" (Paris' beauty was irresistible).

Clearly, Gorgias is principally interested in exploring extenuating circumstance number three: the powers of logos (sections 8-14). As to genre, this discourse, whether or not we justly can call it an encomium (praise speech), is an excellent example of epideixis, a "demonstration" piece — whether demonstration (epideixis) of a given argument, of a mode of argumentation, of a rhetorical style, or even simply of a given writer-speaker's oratorical skill. Epideixis was closely associated with the activity of the sophists.

Questions:

• How then is logos a "mighty potentate," as Gorgias describes it?
  • Compare Euripides and Aristophanes on persuasion:
    • "There is no temple of (i.e., concrete structure housing) Persuasion (Peithō) apart from speech (logos)" (Euripides Antigone fr. 170)
    • In Aristophanes' Frogs 1391-1394, a lightweight utterance, as "persuasion is a lightweight thing, lacking mind"
  • Compare also the frequent contrast of deeds with words
• How might the powers of logos be related to its limitations?
• How are the powers of logos possibly analogous to the other extenuating circumstances (viz., fortune, violence, lust)?
• How distinct from them?
• How might these special powers of logos be useful . . .
  • to individuals?
  • to the state?
• How might these special powers of logos be dangerous?
• What does it mean that Gorgias terms his discourse a paignion, a "plaything"?

TEXT (trans. A. Scholtz)

(1) Manhood confers honor on cities, beauty confers honor on bodies, wisdom confers honor on the soul, virtue confers honor on action, truth confers honor on speech (logos), whereas their opposites confer disgrace. Thus it is right to praise man, woman, speech (logos), deed, city, and action provided they deserve praise, but to blame what is undeserving. For to censure what deserves praise, to praise what deserves censure — that is as wrong as it is ignorant. (2) And it is just as much a man's duty to speak rightly what one must as it is to refute [. . .]

. . . those blaming Helen, a woman concerning whom the [stories?] of the poets, and the belief of their audiences, and the fame of her name agree with perfect harmony — that being how her misfortunes have been remembered. I, however, wish to bring a certain element of reasoned calculation (logismos) to my disputation (logos), thereby to end the guilty reputation that's proved her affliction, and reveal her detractors as impostors, and set forth truth, and end ignorance forsooth!

(3) It is no great secret that in beauty and birth, this woman, the subject of the present discourse (logos), excelled all other men and women. For it is clear that her mother was Leda, and her father, though claimed to be human, was in reality a god — I am referring to Tyndareus and Zeus, the former appearing to be what he was, the latter, contradicted by appearances, the former the most powerful of men, the latter, the sovereign (turannos) of all things. (Zeus disguised as a swan came upon Leda and begat Helen; Leda was married to Tyndareus.)

(4) From parents such as these Helen acquired godlike beauty, which she acquired by the taking, and no mistaking! And she aroused many love-lusts ("desires for eros") in the hearts of many. Around her one body she gathered a great multitude of bodies of men mightily ambitious for mighty deeds. And some of these gained great resources of riches, others the fame of an ancient name, still others strength to which they could lay claim, still others acquisition of shrewd erudition. And all were inspired by lust that loves to prevail, by ambition that hates to fail.

(5) As for who it was that satisfied his lust (eros) by seizing Helen, and how he did it, and why, I shall say nothing. [Gorgias alludes to Paris, Helen's lover and abductor.] Telling people what they already know, though it carries conviction, brings no gratification. But enough of that: time to launch into what remains to be said, and so set forth the reasons why the Trojan War, the war for Helen, likely came about.

(6) For either she acted as she did because of Fortune's desires and divine design and Necessity's fated choice; or else she was forced (bia, "force" ) to run off with her abductor; or else she was persuaded by words (logois peistheisa); or else she was captivated by lust (eros).

If then for the first reason (fortune or fate), it is fitting to lay the blame where it lies. For human precaution cannot thwart divine aspiration, nor will nature permit the weaker to resist the stronger. Rather, the stronger naturally governs and leads the weaker. Indeed, when the stronger shows the way, the weaker must obey. For god is a power greater than human in strength (bia), in wisdom (sophia), and in all else. If then one must place the blame on Fortune and the god, then one must release Helen from disgrace.

(7) But if she was violently (bia) abducted and unlawfully coerced and unjustly violated, then it is clear that he [Paris], by abducting her, did wrong because he violated her, and that she was unfortunate for having been abducted and violated. And so the barbarian who had employed speech, word, and deed to undertake this barbaric undertaking deserves blame in word, dishonor in law, and punishment in deed. As for the victim, she, having been wrested from her home and bereft of those she loved, how could it not make sense to pity her — that rather than vilify her? For he was the criminal, she the victim. It is, then, just to pity her, hate him.

(8) But if it was speech (logos) that persuaded and deceived her soul, again, it will not be hard to mount a defense and acquit her of blame, and for the following reason. Speech (logos) is a mighty potentate ("dynast," dunastes). Though its body be ever so insubstantial and invisible, that body performs the most divine of feats. It stifles fear and banishes misery, instills joy and boosts clemency. That this is so I shall now show. (9) For one simply cannot prove one's point to an audience if one overlooks the element of appearances (doxa). Take, for instance, poetry, which I consider and classify as metrical speech (logos). Those listening to it shudder in terror and weep with pity and pine with pangs of longing. [Gorgias is thinking of narrative and dramatic poetry.] And through the medium of speech (logos) the soul thrills to feelings like none other in the face of success and failure befalling others' actions and bodies.

Enough of that, let us move on to another point (logos). (10) For divinely inspired incantations use speech (logos) to induce pleasure and banish pain. Melded with the mind's imaginings (doxa), incantation beguiles, persuades (peithein), even alters the soul. For a twofold art confers mastery of magic and enchantment: the art of misleading the mind and of deceiving the judgment. (11) So too all masters of persuasion (peithein), past and present, whoever the audience, whatever the topic, have employed fabricated fictions [falsely contrived logoi]. For if everyone could remember everything about the past, could understand everything about the present, could foresee everything about the future, then speech, though the same as ever, would not possess the same power of deception. But in fact it is not easy to recall the past or assess the present or foretell the future. Therefore most people resort to appearances (doxa) to inform themselves on most subjects. Yet appearances, precarious and insecure, afford little understanding that can endure. (12) What then prevents Helen [. . .], though no longer the mere child she once had been, from being the victim of a violent abduction, indeed, a veritable vessel of violation? [. . .]

Thus speech (logos), by persuading the one it had persuaded (peithein), compelled her to comply with instructions and consent to actions. It is therefore her persuader who does wrong on account of compulsion, while she, convinced (peithein) as though constrained by speech (logos), for no good reason suffers slander.

(13) As for the fact that persuasion (peitho) in concert with speech (logos) has the power to mold the mind any way it will, one should first of all think how the discourse (logos) of astronomy substitutes one seeming truth (doxa) for another, thereby causing what beggars belief and boggles the mind to seem to make sense of a subjective kind (doxa).

[Note the contrast with Thucydides and the Hippocratic authors, for whom scientific discourse (logos) is authoritative discourse.]

Second, one must think of compelling contests in oratory, wherein a single oration delights an entire convocation and produces persuasion (peithein) because skillfully written, not truly spoken. Third, consider philosophical disputations, wherein mental acuity easily alters trusting credulity (doxa).

(14) Further, the power of speech to affect the disposition of the mind can be compared to the power of drugs to affect the body. For just as certain drugs expel certain fluids from the body, and can end both disease and life, so too certain speeches provoke sadness, others gladness; some instill fear, others embolden the listening ear. Still others intoxicate and fascinate the soul with a wicked brand of persuasiveness (peitho).

(15) So much, then, for Helen as victim of persuasive speech, and therefore not criminal, but pitiable. I shall now expound the fourth of four arguments in her defense. For if we can make desire (eros) take the blame, we can easily acquit her and clear her name. For the things that we see are not as we would wish them, but as chance determines them. Yet it is through the visual faculties that the soul is molded, even in its propensities. (16) So, for instance, whenever the eye comes face to face with warriors arrayed against their foes, their bodies adorned with the bronze and iron weaponry of thrust and parry, immediately disturbance besets the visual faculties, which in turn communicate disturbance to the soul. The result: People panic. They flee, for they mistake distant dangers for present perils. Indeed, all this grief lodges itself within us as if it were compelling truth — that due to terror stemming from visual stimuli. Indeed, visual impressions can even make us forget that which the law judges honorable and justice proves noble.

(17) Further, it is not unknown for terrifying visions to produce temporary lapses in sanity — terror extinguishing and expelling rational thought. And many have had to suffer needlessly from terrifying illness and incurable madness. For the power of sight engraves images on the mind. I pass over a great many things that arouse fear; suffice it to say that they are similar to what I have already explained. (18) Painters too, whenever they fashion a single bodily figure from a varied repertoire of bodily forms, delight the visual sense. So too the creation of statues and the crafting of sculptures afflict the eye with an agreeable ailment. Thus vision naturally provokes pain at times, at other times elicits longing. And there is much that, for many people, instills lust and longing for many things and many bodies.

(19) No wonder then that Helen's eyes, having feasted on the physical beauty of Paris, engendered in her soul eager lust (eros). For if Eros is a god among gods with powers divine, how could mere mortals drive him away? How could they hold him at bay? Yet if eros is merely a human affliction, the soul's lack of intellection, we should regard eros as tribulation, not rebuke it as transgression. For Helen's absconsion will have resulted not from deliberate cogitation but random occasion, not from practiced preparation but erotic coercion.

(20) Why then must we deem it right to censure Helen if she did what she did seized by lust (eros) or persuaded (peithein) by words or abducted by violence (bia) or compelled by a god — she then being utterly innocent of iniquity?

(21) With this speech I have removed disgrace from Helen's name, and have faithfully fulfilled my initial aim. I have essayed to dispel unjust censure and ignorant conjecture. I have desired to compose this discourse as a tribute to Helen, and as an amusement (paignion) for myself.

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