y in the disguise of a general.
Would he rather be regarded as inspired or dishonest?' Ion, who has no
suspicion of the irony of Socrates, eagerly embraces the alternative of
inspiration.

The Ion, like the other earlier Platonic Dialogues, is a mixture of jest
and earnest, in which no definite result is obtained, but some Socratic
or Platonic truths are allowed dimly to appear.

The elements of a true theory of poetry are contained in the notion
that the poet is inspired. Genius is often said to be unconscious, or
spontaneous, or a gift of nature: that 'genius is akin to madness' is a
popular aphorism of modern times. The greatest strength is observed to
have an element of limitation. Sense or passion are too much for
the 'dry light' of intelligence which mingles with them and becomes
discoloured by them. Imagination is often at war with reason and fact.
The concentration of the mind on a single object, or on a single aspect
of human nature, overpowers the orderly perception of the whole. Yet the
feelings too bring truths home to the minds of many who in the way of
reason would be incapable of understanding them. Reflections of this
kind may have been passing before Plato's mind when he describes the
poet as inspired, or when, as in the Apology, he speaks of poets as the
worst critics of their own writings--anybody taken at random from the
crowd is a better interpreter of them than they are of themselves. They
are sacred persons, 'winged and holy things' who have a touch of madness
in their composition (Phaedr.), and should be treated with every sort
of respect (Republic), but not allowed to live in a well-ordered state.
Like the Statesmen in the Meno, they have a divine instinct, but they
are narrow and confused; they do not attain to the clearness of ideas,
or to the knowledge of poetry or of any other art as a whole.

In the Protagoras the ancient poets are recognized by Protagoras himself
as the original sophists; and this family resemblance may be traced in
the Ion. The rhapsode belongs to the realm of imitation and of opinion:
he professes to have all knowledge, which is derived by him from Homer,
just as the sophist professes to have all wisdom, which is contained
in his art of rhetoric. Even more than the sophist he is incapable of
appreciating the commonest logical distinctions; he cannot explain the
nature of his own art; his great memory contrasts with his inability
to follow the steps of the argument. And