Complete Works (343 page)

Are these letters, or any of them, genuine? We have no way of knowing for sure. We have no record of any Platonic letters existing before the end of the third century
B.C.
, some one hundred fifty years or more after the nominal date of composition. We know that many such ‘letters’ of famous personages originated as exercises in the schools of rhetoric in later times, and others were forged for various reasons. Our manuscripts report a doubt (perhaps going back to Thrasyllus) about
Letter
XII’s authenticity, and from their content others can hardly be by Plato.
Letter
VII, the least unlikely to have come from Plato’s pen, contains much tantalizing information about Plato’s views about philosophy which if genuine could be of some significance for working out his final positions. The author reiterates in bold language his commitment to Forms, and, drawing upon an elaborate theory about the means of arriving at philosophical truth and the defectiveness of language to express it, he explains why he would never write any philosophical treatise. If not by Plato,
Letter
VII must have been written about when it says it was—not long after Dion’s death in 354—and by someone close enough to Plato to be confident of writing about philosophy in a way that could convince a discriminating audience that included Greek philosophers in Southern Italy that the author was indeed Plato
.

J.M.C.

I

P
LATO TO
D
IONYSIUS
, W
ELFARE
.
[309]

During all the time that I was with you administering your empire and enjoying your confidence above all others, you got the benefits and I the slanders. But I endured them, grievous as they were, because I knew that men would not think me a willing accomplice in any of your more barbarous acts. For all who are associated with you in your government are my [b] witnesses, many of whom I myself have defended and saved from no little injury. And although I have held the highest authority and have protected your city on numerous occasions, you have deported me with less consideration than you ought to show in sending away a beggar who had been with you for the same length of time. I shall therefore in the future consult my own interests with less trust in mankind, and you, tyrant that you are, will live without friends.

The bearer of this letter, Bacchius, is bringing you the pretty gold that [c] you gave for my departure. It was not enough for my traveling expenses, nor could I use it for any other need. The offer of it did you great dishonor, and its acceptance would do me almost as much, therefore I refuse it. No doubt it makes little difference to you whether you get or give such a trifle as this, so take it back and use it to serve some other friend as you have served me; I have had enough of your attentions.

A line of Euripides comes appropriately to my mind: “Thou’lt pray for [d] such a helper at thy side.”
¹
Let me remind you also that most of the other tragic poets, when they bring in a tyrant who is being assassinated, make him cry out: “O wretched me! for lack of friends I die.” But no one has
[310]
ever portrayed him as dying for lack of money. And these other lines, too, make sense to sensible men:

It is not gold, though a shining rarity in mortals’ hopeless life,

Nor gems, nor silver couches, that brighten the eyes of men,

Nor broad and self-sufficient fields laden with the harvest,

But the approving thought of upright men
.

[b] Farewell. May you realize how much you have lost in me and so conduct yourself better toward others.

1
. Frg. 956.

II

P
LATO TO
D
IONYSIUS
, W
ELFARE
.

Archedemus
¹
tells me you think that not only I but my friends also should keep quiet about you and refrain from saying or doing anything to your discredit, Dion alone excepted. This very statement, that you except [c] Dion, shows that I have no power over my friends; for if I could control you and Dion and the others as you suggest, it would be much better for us, I maintain, and for all the other Greeks. As it is, I am conspicuous in showing willingness to follow my own precept. But I say this without implying that there is any truth in the reports of Cratistolus and Polyxenus, [d] one of whom told you, I hear, that while at Olympia he heard many of my companions speak ill of you. He must have much sharper hearing than I, for I heard nothing of the sort. But this is what you must do, I think, in the future; whenever you hear anything like this said of one of us, write and inquire of me, and I will tell you the truth without shame or hesitation.

So far as the relations between you and me are concerned the situation [e] is this. We are both known to practically every Greek, and our connection with each other is no secret. Remember, too, that it will be no secret to future generations, for those who hear of it will be as great in number as our friendship has been long continued and open. What do I mean by saying this now? Let me begin with a general truth. It is a law of nature that wisdom and great power go together; they exert a mutual attraction and are forever seeking to be united. And men love to converse with one another about them, and to listen to what the poets say. For example,
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when men talk of Hiero and Pausanias the Lacedaemonian, they like to recall Simonides’ connection with them and what he said and did. Likewise they usually celebrate together Periander of Corinth and Thales of Miletus, Pericles and Anaxagoras, and again Croesus and Solon, as wise men, with Cyrus, as ruler. In the same strain the poets couple Creon and Tiresias, [b] Polyeidus and Minos, Agamemnon and Nestor, Odysseus and Palamedes. And our early ancestors, if I am not mistaken, linked Prometheus with Zeus in much the same manner. Of these men some are sung about as coming together in conflict, others for friendship; and some as being friends at one time and enemies at another, and agreeing in some things and disagreeing in others. I say all this to show you that when we are dead, [c] men will still talk about us, and we must have a care for their opinions. It is necessary, I think, that we should be concerned about the future, since it is the nature of an utterly slavish man to give it no thought, whereas men of superior virtue do everything in their power to have themselves well spoken of after they are dead. This very attitude is to me an indication that the dead have some perception of what is going on here; for superior minds divine that this is so, while those of no account deny it; and of these [d] two the intimations of good men are the more worthy of credence. It is my belief that the men whom I have mentioned above would be only too eager, if it were possible to rectify their associations with one another so as to have a better account given of them than is now current. This is still possible for us, please God; if there has been any fault in our past relations we can still correct it by our words and actions; for the account which will be given of true philosophy, and the reputation that it will enjoy, will be [e] better or worse, I say, according as we act nobly or basely. Indeed we can show no greater piety than to act always with this concern, nor greater impiety than to neglect it.

Shall I tell you then what we ought to do and what justice requires? When I came to Sicily my reputation was high among philosophers, and I came to Syracuse to make you my witness, so that philosophy might
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gain favor with the multitude. In this I failed ingloriously, as is well known. But I deny that the cause was what many persons might think. Instead, it is because you showed that you did not quite trust me, but desired to send me away and summon others to find out from them what my purposes were, apparently mistrusting me. Many people thereupon bruited it about that you held me in contempt and were interested in other things. This, [b] as you know, was the general report. Hear now what in consequence you ought to do, and this will answer your question how you and I should behave towards each other. If you feel nothing but contempt for philosophy, then let it alone; or if from your own studies or from the teachings of others you have found better doctrines than mine, give them your allegiance. But if, as I think, you favor my principles, then you ought to honor them and me in particular. Now, as at the beginning, if you lead I will follow. If you honor me, I will honor you; if not, I will keep silent. [c] Furthermore, if you take the lead in honoring me, you will get the reputation of honoring philosophy; and the very fact that you once were considering other philosophers will bring you commendation from many persons as being yourself a philosopher. But if I pay you honor without any honor from you, it will look as if I had my eyes on your money, and we know that this attitude has an evil name among men. In short, if you honor me it will be a tribute to us both; if I honor you, it will bring us both disgrace.

[d] Enough of these matters. The sphere is not correct. Archedemus will explain it to you when he comes. And upon that other question of weightier and more sublime import about which you say you have difficulties, let him by all means enlighten you. According to his report, you say that the nature of “the first” has not been sufficiently explained. I must speak of this matter to you in enigmas, in order that if anything should happen to these tablets “in the recesses of the sea or land,” whoever reads them may [e] not understand our meaning. It is like this. Upon the king of all do all things turn; he is the end of all things and the cause of all good. Things of the second order turn upon the second principle, and those of the third order upon the third. Now the soul of man longs to understand what sort of things these principles are, and it looks toward the things that are akin
[313]
to itself, though none of them is adequate; clearly the king and the other principles mentioned are not of that sort. The soul thereupon asks, What then is the nature of these principles? This is the question, O son of Dionysius and Doris, that causes all the trouble; or rather, this it is that produces in the soul the pains of childbirth, from which she must be delivered, or she will never really attain truth. You yourself once told me, under the [b] laurel trees in your garden, that you understood this matter, having found the answer yourself; and I replied that if you thought so, you had spared me many words. I said, however, that I had never met anyone who had discovered this truth, and that most of my own study was devoted to it. Perhaps you once heard something from someone and providentially started on the track of the answer, but then, thinking you had it safe, neglected to fix fast the proofs of it, which now dart here and there
²
about some object of your fancy, whereas the reality itself is quite different. You [c] are not alone in this experience; I assure you that everyone at first hearing is affected in just this way, and though some have more difficulty than others, there is almost no one who escapes with but little effort.

Considering thus our past and our present circumstances, we can fairly say we have found the answer to the question in your letter about our relations toward each other. For now that you are conversing with other [d] philosophers and are testing my doctrines, both by themselves and by comparing them with others, these teachings will take root this time, if your examination is sincere, and you will become attached both to them and to me.

Now how can this and all else that I have mentioned be brought about? It was quite proper of you to send Archedemus to me; do likewise in the future, for when he reaches you and gives you my answers you may still have difficulties. You will then send Archedemus back to me, if you are well advised, and he will return to you, like a good merchant. After you have done this two or three times and have thoroughly examined the answers I send to you, I shall be much surprised if the matters which are [e] now troubling you do not appear in an altogether different light. So be bold and inquire of me in this way; for you could not order, nor could Archedemus secure for you, any nobler or diviner merchandise.

Only take care that these letters do not fall into the hands of uninstructed
[314]
men. Nothing, I dare say, could sound more ridiculous to the multitude than these sayings, just as to gifted persons nothing could be more admirable and inspiring. One must talk about them and hear them expounded again and again, perhaps for many years, and even then their gold is with the utmost difficulty separated and refined. The most surprising thing about it is this: many a man of able understanding and tenacious memory has become old in the hearing of these doctrines and has told me that [b] after more than thirty years of hearing them expounded, after examining them and testing them in every way, those points which at the beginning seemed most doubtful he now thinks to be the clearest and most self-evident of all, while the matters he then thought most credible are now quite the contrary. Keep this in mind and take care that you have no occasion in the future to feel remorse for now exposing these doctrines unworthily. The best precaution is not to write them down, but to commit them to memory; for it is impossible that things written should not become [c] known to others. This is why I have never written on these subjects. There is no writing of Plato’s, nor will there ever be; those that are now called so come from an idealized and youthful
³
Socrates. Farewell and heed my warning; read this letter again and again, then burn it.

Enough of these matters. You were surprised that I sent Polyxenus to you; but about him as well as Lycophron and the other men now at your [d] court, I repeat the opinion that I have long had; you are far superior to them in dialectic, both by natural aptitude and by your method of disputation; and none of them lets himself be defeated intentionally, as some people suppose, but only because he cannot help it. You seem, however, to have dealt with them quite fairly and rewarded them properly. But enough, and more than enough, about such men. As for Philistion,
⁴
if you [e] still need him, by all means keep him there; but if it is possible, release him and let Speusippus have his services. Speusippus joins me in this request, and Philistion also assured me that he would be glad to come to Athens if you would let him go. You did well to release the man from the rock quarries; and my petition about Hegesippus, the son of Ariston, and his family is easy to grant, for you wrote me that if anyone ever tried to do him or them an injury and you knew of it you would prevent it. The
[315]
truth should be told about Lysiclides; he is the only man who has come from Sicily to Athens who has not given a distorted report of the relations between us; he continues, as always, to put the best interpretation upon what happened.