Platos Dialogues of Definition Causal and Conceptual Investigations 1St Edition Justin C Clark All Chapter

You might also like

Download as pdf or txt
Download as pdf or txt
You are on page 1of 67

Plato’s Dialogues Of Definition: Causal

And Conceptual Investigations 1st


Edition Justin C. Clark
Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmass.com/product/platos-dialogues-of-definition-causal-and-conceptual-i
nvestigations-1st-edition-justin-c-clark/
Plato’s Dialogues of
Definition
Causal and Conceptual
Investigations
j us t i n c . c l a r k
Plato’s Dialogues of Definition
Justin C. Clark

Plato’s Dialogues
of Definition
Causal and Conceptual Investigations
Justin C. Clark
Department of Philosophy
Hamilton College
Clinton, NY, USA

ISBN 978-3-031-07848-4    ISBN 978-3-031-07849-1 (eBook)


https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-07849-1

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive licence to Springer
Nature Switzerland AG 2022
This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the
Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of
translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on
microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval,
electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now
known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this
publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are
exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors, and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information
in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the
publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect
to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made.
The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and
institutional affiliations.

This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature
Switzerland AG.
The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland
Acknowledgements

This book was written in many places, as I moved around to various aca-
demic positions. I have been fortunate with friends and colleagues in phi-
losophy along the way. I want to thank the Philosophy Department at the
University of California, Santa Barbara. I am grateful to my mentor Voula
Tsouna, for her willingness to comment on so many drafts and chapters,
for her dedicated instruction, and her genuine love of ancient philosophy.
I am grateful to Tom Holden, another generous mentor, and a steady
source of professional encouragement. A significant portion of this book
was written at the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign, where I
encountered many gifted interlocutors. Many thanks to Kirk Sanders,
friend and mentor, for several conversations about Plato, and useful feed-
back on material from Euthyphro, Gorgias, and Republic, all of which
helped galvanize the project in its early stages, to Dan Korman for his
guidance and enthusiasm throughout the process, to Shelley Weinberg
and Helga Varden for their friendship and professional support. I am
grateful to my colleagues at Utah State University, especially Charlie
Huenemann and Jason Gilmore for providing feedback on early drafts of
certain chapters. I received help from three additional philosophers at cru-
cial stages in the process. Special thanks to Matt Griffin for helping me
through the weeds of Chaps. 2 and 3, to Daniel Graham for his acute
feedback on material from Chaps. 2 and 4, and for his workshops in
ancient philosophy, which proved an enormous help during my time in
Utah. Similar gratitude is owed to Nicholas D. Smith, an ongoing source
of inspiration as a Socratic scholar, and a profound professional help along
the way. His West Coast Plato Workshop (2020) on the Lysis was

v
vi ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

instrumental to the construction of Chap. 7, and his many kind sugges-


tions were an invaluable part of the process.
This project was completed at Hamilton College. I am grateful to
Hamilton for giving me time off to complete the manuscript, to my dear
colleagues in the philosophy department for their continued support, and
to my students. Four chapters are revisions of previously published mate-
rial. I want to thank the following journals for permission to re-use.

Chapter 2: ‘Socratic Inquiry and the ‘What is F?’ Question’ European


Journal of Philosophy, 26 (4),1324–1342 (2019)
Chapter 3: ‘Socrates, the Primary Question, and the Unity of Virtue’
Canadian Journal of Philosophy 45(4), 445–470 (2015)
Chapter 4: “Socrates, the ‘What is F-ness?’ Question, and the Priority of
Definition” Archive Für Geschichte der Philosophie (2021)
Chapter 6: “Knowledge and Temperance in Plato’s Charmides” Pacific
Philosophical Quarterly, 19 (4), 763–789, (2018)

Many years ago, three teachers at the University of Iowa sparked a love
of philosophy, and inspired a fascination with the dialogues of Plato. I am
eternally grateful to Jay Holstein, Professor and J.J. Mallon Teaching
Chair in Judaic Studies, Thomas Williams, Professor of Philosophy and
Catholic Studies, and James Duerlinger, Professor of Philosophy. Last but
not least, this book would not have been possible without the greatest
support of all, the support I receive every day from my wife Rachael, and
my daughter, Nora.
Contents

1 Introduction  1

2 The Dual-Function Thesis 15

3 Socratic Inquiry and the Unity of the Virtues 51

4 Socratic Epistemology and the Priority of Definition 81

5 Socratic Inquiry and the Aporetic Endings 99

6 Knowledge and Temperance in Plato’s Charmides115

7 L ysis and the Question of Friendship147

8 The Authorship of the Hippias Major173

Bibliography191

Index199

vii
CHAPTER 1

Introduction

If we want to understand Socrates, his unique philosophy, and the remark-


able way of life that landed him in so much trouble that he was eventually
sentenced to death and executed by the Athenian government in 399
BCE, then we must endeavor to understand what Socrates was looking for.
That’s the overarching aim of this book.

1.1   Socrates’ Central Question


This book seeks to advance a new interpretation of the early dialogues of
Plato, focusing primarily on the so-called dialogues of definition. These
works provide insight into Socrates’ unparalleled activity as one of most
influential philosophers in history. The interpretation I advance in the
following pages has developed gradually, over the span of a decade. It
concerns one of the most debated aspects of Socratic philosophy, having
been constructed around the following question: What, precisely, is
Socrates is looking for when he asks his interlocutor to tell him what
something is?
In many early dialogues, Socrates introduces a question of the form
‘What is F?’ He wants to discover what something is, where the specific
thing under investigation is always some important virtue term, or the
name of some ethical value. Socrates is famous for asking such questions:
‘What is courage?’ ‘What is justice?’ ‘What is piety?’ In each case, some

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature 1


Switzerland AG 2022
J. C. Clark, Plato’s Dialogues of Definition,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-07849-1_1
2 J. C. CLARK

specific instance of the ‘What is F?’ question jumpstarts an investigation


typically described, however unhelpfully, as a search for definition. The
‘What is F?’ question sits at the core of these dialogues, simple in its pre-
sentation, yet confounding to scholars. As soon as we isolate the question
for examination across dialogues, an unexpected complexity emerges.
Scholars disagree—by a wide margin—about what, precisely, Socrates is
looking for. It has been proposed, for instance, that Socrates is pursuing
the meaning of F-ness as a linguistic expression, or as a concept (Vlastos
1976; Forster 2006); that he is pursuing a full-blown ethical theory, or
something akin to a first principle of morality (Kraut 1984); that he is
pursuing a psychological account, or an explanation of F-ness as a disposi-
tion in the soul (Penner 1973); or that he is pursuing a metaphysical prop-
erty, perhaps an abstract Form (Allen 1970). I am writing this book,
because the complexity of the ‘What is F?’ question has not yet been fully
sorted out. As long as we are working with an incomplete view of Socrates’
question, and his criteria for a successful answer, our ability to understand
the early dialogues and to interpret what Socrates is doing there, will
remain inadequate. A comprehensive interpretation is therefore needed.
These dialogues are written with an uncanny literary artistry, and infused
with unique pedagogical force. When studied diligently, they can help us
better understand ourselves, and better pursue the good. I believe they are
capable of impacting our character and our lives for the better.
My project has two specific aims. First, I want to offer a new account of
the type of answer Socrates wants in response to the ‘What is F?’ question.
And second, I want to motivate the interpretation that follows from this
account, explaining how it manages to solve interpretive issues in the lit-
erature, how it manages to explain the negative endings of each dialogue,
and how it manages to unearth the positive philosophy of Socrates. Let me
begin by situating the ‘What is F?’ question within the context of the early
dialogues. I will then explain my central thesis, and provide a roadmap for
the chapters that lie ahead.

1.2  The Early Dialogues


In addressing the early dialogues of Plato, I am addressing a family
of shorter ethical dialogues: Apology, Charmides, Crito, Euthydemus,
Euthyphro, Gorgias, Hippias Major, Hippias Minor, Ion, Laches, Lysis,
Meno, Protagoras and Republic I. These dialogues are generally agreed
1 INTRODUCTION 3

to have been written early in Plato’s career.1 The precise chronology is


debatable, of course. It is also debatable whether Republic I was composed
prior to and somewhat independently of Republic II-X, and whether the
Hippias Major is genuine or spurious. I will address these questions along
the way. But my main justification for treating these works as a ‘family’,
and for interpreting them in light of one another, is more thematic than
chronological. These works exhibit stylistic and structural affinities; they
are bound together by several important themes and principles; and they
are our primary source for understanding the teachings of Socrates. With
regard to the latter, we might wonder whether Plato’s portrait of Socrates
in these dialogues provides an accurate representation of the historical per-
son. We will never know for certain, but we do have it on the authority of
Aristotle that the historical Socrates raised questions of the form ‘What is
F?’ and that he concerned himself with definitions in the domain of ethical
matters. As Aristotle puts it:2

Socrates inquired what is justice and what is courage and what is each of vir-
tue’s parts. And it is understandable that he should have done so. For he
thought the virtues were all forms of knowledge… Eud. Ethics 1216b2-9
Socrates, however, was occupying himself with the moral virtues, having
been the first to search for universal definitions of them… Metaphysics
1078b16-19

I can think of no special reason to doubt Aristotle’s testimony on this


score. Xenophon’s report of Socrates tells the same story.3 For the record,
I tend to consider Plato’s representation of the historical Socrates reason-
ably accurate. But this is not something I wish to establish at present. In
what follows, therefore, I use ‘Socrates’ to refer to the literary character in

1
Scholars are not unanimous as to which dialogues belong on the list, but there is a wide-
spread agreement about the majority of works that belong. For more on this, see Nails
(1995: 58–52).
2
All translations of Aristotle are from Johnathan Barnes (1984).
3
See Mem. 1.1.16: ‘The problems Socrates discussed were, What is godly, what is ungodly;
What is beautiful, what is ugly; What is just, what is unjust; What is prudent, what is madness;
What is courage, what is cowardice; What is a state, what is a statesman; What is government;
and what is a governor;—these and others like them, of which knowledge made a ‘gentle-
man’, in his estimation, while ignorance should involve the reproach of ‘slavishness”.
(Marchant trans.)
4 J. C. CLARK

the early dialogues of Plato, reserving ‘the historical Socrates’ for those
occasions in which I intend to discuss the historical figure.4
The Apology occupies a unique role in my study. As a representation of
the speech purportedly given by the historical Socrates during his trial, the
Apology offers the closest approximation to the historical Socrates. More
importantly for our purposes, however, the Apology contains a clear state-
ment from Socrates concerning the nature of his activity. Socrates describes
his philosophical mission like this: ‘I was always concerned with each of
you, approaching you like a father or an elder brother to persuade you to
care for virtue’ (31b).5 ‘Virtue’ here refers collectively to the various excel-
lences in human character. Five canonical virtues are examined in the early
dialogues—piety, courage, temperance, justice, and wisdom. Socrates also
describes the ‘care for virtue’ as a concern for ‘the very best state of one’s
soul’, as he urges his fellow Athenians to prioritize virtue above the more
common concerns of personal wealth, status, and reputation (30b). This
was Socrates’ chief admonition to everyone he encountered, that they
should care for their souls above all other things. The soul (psyche ̄) is that
by which we live. And, for Socrates, properly caring for the soul requires a
certain kind of knowledge (episte ̄me ̄). Virtue lies in the possession of this
knowledge, which enables the virtuous person to live well (eu prattein)
both in relation to herself and in relation to others. In fact, this is one
major theme unifying our family of dialogues. In the early dialogues of
Plato, Socrates is concerned primarily with questions related to virtue and
happiness.
Five dialogues are constructed around instances of the ‘What is F?’
question, where the value supplied by F is a virtue. The Euthyphro is con-
structed around the question ‘What is piety?’ It depicts Socrates on his

4
I am operating under what Brickhouse and Smith (2010: 13–17) call the ‘Philosophical
Identity Principle’, that Socrates is ‘the same character, with essentially the same philosophi-
cal views, in each of a certain group of dialogues by Plato’. This principle is weaker than the
‘General Historical Identity Thesis’, that Socrates is depicted by Plato in a way that allows us
to form a generally reliable picture (though ‘not absolutely accurate in every detail’) of who
the historical Socrates was, and how he conducted his philosophical activity. I also accept this
stronger thesis, but will not provide a defense here; nothing I argue will depend upon it
being true. For a useful explanation, see Brickhouse and Smith (2010: 11–42), with whom I
am in general agreement. My approach is inspired by Vlastos (1991) as well. The burden of
proof, I believe, lies with those who would reject the General Historical Identity Thesis; not
with those who accept it.
5
All translations of Plato’s texts are my own, adapted from Cooper (1997), unless ascribed
otherwise.
1 INTRODUCTION 5

way to the courthouse for his indictment, where he falls into conversation
with a priest, a self-proclaimed expert concerning the gods. Similarly, in
the Laches, Socrates investigates courage with two proven war generals.
In the Charmides, he investigates temperance with a promising youth
recognized for temperate behavior. In the Meno, he investigates virtue
with a student of rhetoric who claims to have ‘given many fine speeches
to large audiences’ concerning virtue (80b). In the Republic, he investi-
gates justice with a rhetorician and moral skeptic. These are the dialogues
of definition. There are two additional dialogues that appear to be struc-
tured around a ‘What is F?’ question. The Lysis investigates the nature of
friendship, while the Hippias Major explores the nature of the beautiful
or the fine (kalon). In total, then, seven early dialogues are recognized as
definitional.

Dialogue    ‘What is F?’ Question

Euthyphro    What is piety (eusebeia)?      5 c5-d7


Laches      What is courage (andreia)?     190 d7-e2
Charmides     What is temperance (sōphrosune ̄)?   159 a6-8
̄
Meno      What is virtue (arete)?       72 c6-d1
̄
Republic I     What is justice (dikaiosune)?     331b6-c1
Lysis        What is friendship (philia)?     223 b4-10
Hippias Major   What is the beautiful (kalon)?    286 c-d

In the process of investigating these values, the dialogues of definition also


raise questions about the relation among virtues. The question of how the
virtues are related is taken up more directly in the Protagoras, where
Socrates introduces the thesis of the ‘unity of the virtues’. But this is just
one point of contact between the Protagoras and the dialogues on our list.
The investigation of the Protagoras begins from another question also
featured prominently in the dialogues of definition. This is the question of
how the virtues can be acquired. I call this the acquisition question.
These shared themes are enough to solidify Protagoras as yet another dia-
logue central to my project. I will occasionally bolster my argument with
support from other early works, but my project will focus mainly on
Apology, Euthyphro, Laches, Charmides, Meno, Republic I, Lysis, Hippias
Major, and Protagoras.
6 J. C. CLARK

1.3  The Elenchus
The early dialogues are artistic, dramatic, ironic, playful, and historical.
But most of all, they are philosophical. They showcase Socrates as their
central character, portrayed throughout as philosopher and moral educa-
tor. In each case, Socrates is placed in conversation with a non-­philosopher.
Dramatic details are woven into the fabric of the dialogue around the
conversation, serving to enhance the artistry and enrich the philosophical
content. The dialogue form serves many purposes for Plato. It serves,
among other things, as a suitable platform for displaying the method of his
teacher. The ‘What is F?’ question is the starting point for this controver-
sial philosophical method, commonly referred to as the Socratic elenchus.6
The rules of the elenchus are as follows. There is one designated ques-
tioner, one designated answerer. Socrates shows a willingness to answer,
but typically occupies the role of questioner. After a brief prologue, the
‘What is F?’ question is raised by Socrates, thus launching an investigation
into a topic the interlocutor is supposed to have knowledge about.
Sometimes the interlocutor is a sophist, or a self-proclaimed expert on
matters related to F-ness;7 other times, the interlocutor is merely suspected
of having such knowledge. In either case, Socrates expects the interlocutor
to answer honestly, to say what they actually believe.8 To begin, the inter-
locutor proposes a definition, claiming that ‘F-ness is X’. Sometimes,
Socrates will seek to clarify the definition, in order to undermine the defi-
nition with a counterexample. Other times, Socrates will proceed to secure
agreement to additional claims related to F-ness. When enough of these
6
This is the Latinization of the Greek elenchos, which means ‘refutation’, or sometimes
‘examination’. Socrates admits that he is ‘refuting’ his interlocutor (Charmides 166c-d). But
Socrates rarely describes his own activity in this way. He often describes himself as inquiring,
searching, or investigating (skopō, diaskopō, zte ̄tō, erōtō, sketomai, etc.).
7
In the fifth century BCE, sophistry emerged as a new profession. Sophists were profes-
sional teachers who toured the Greek world offering instruction in return for a fee— instruc-
tion on a wide range of subjects, with particular emphasis on rhetoric, and various techniques
in adversary debate (eristic). They claimed to impart to their students a skill in public speak-
ing and the successful conduct of life. The upper class’s reception of sophistry is character-
ized, by Plato at least, as a symptom of a more general moral lethargy, a pervasive
anti-philosophical set of values. The members of the upper class employ sophists above all for
rhetorical training in order to win the approval of the people. Insofar as they seek political
power through public approval, however, they often ignore the proper role of leadership and
education.
8
See Euthyphro 9d7-8; Crito 49c11-d1; Protagoras 331c4-d1; Republic I 349a4-8; Gorgias
458a1-b1, 495a5-9, 499b-c, 500b5-c1.
1 INTRODUCTION 7

claims have been secured, Socrates demonstrates that the interlocutor’s


beliefs are inconsistent with the definition they proposed (that F-ness is
X). In this way, the interlocutor is forced to recognize a contradiction in
their belief-set concerning F-ness. Socrates therefore invites them to try
again, by providing another definition. Thus, another round of the elen-
chus begins. Unless, of course, the interlocutor decides they’ve had
enough, which is precisely how each of the dialogues of definition end.
The dialogues of definition share the same basic pattern: Socrates asks
someone to teach him about F-ness by providing an answer to the ‘What
is F?’ question; several definitions are proposed and rejected; the inter-
locutor decides they’ve had enough, and the dialogue ends in a failed search.
The key statements in Socrates’ demonstration often have no authority
apart from the interlocutor’s own endorsement; and Socrates shows no
hesitation in taking aim at the core beliefs of the interlocutor—beliefs that
inform the interlocutor’s way of life. Thus, the procedure concludes with
some uneasiness of the part of the interlocutor, who appears unable to
support their account of what F-ness is; and unable to justify their entire
way of living (Laches 187e-188a).9 The method can appear unfriendly.
Gregory Vlastos writes:

You say A, and [Socrates] shows you that A implies B, and B implies C, and
then he asks ‘But didn’t you say D before? And doesn’t C contradict D?’
And there he leaves you with your shipwrecked argument, without so much
as telling you what part of it, if any, can be salvaged. His tactics seem
unfriendly from the start. Instead of trying to pilot you around the rocks, he
picks one under water a long way ahead where you will never suspect it and
then makes sure you get all the wind you need to run full-sail into it and
smash your keel upon it.10

Of course, the elenchus is meant to reduce an interlocutor to aporia—an


uncomfortable state of intellectual puzzlement. Aporia is experienced
upon realizing that you do not at all understand something you previously
thought you knew well. This can be a painful realization. And yet, Socrates
takes the aporetic result to be beneficial, somewhat like a medical proce-
dure. The elenchus can improve the soul of an interlocutor by bringing
them closer to a ‘distinctly human kind of wisdom’—a knowledge of what
one knows and what one does not know. In other words, the elenchus can
9
See Brickhouse and Smith (1994: 12–14).
10
Vlastos (1995: 9).
8 J. C. CLARK

correct for a harmful tendency in human nature, the tendency of mistak-


enly thinking that one knows things one does not know (Apology 21b-23b).
In addition, the elenchus can prepare an interlocutor for further philoso-
phizing. When properly carried out, it makes an interlocutor feel the
weight of their own ignorance, and causes them to realize their need for
moral knowledge. Whether the method is purely negative, however, or
whether these investigations afford Socrates with positive beliefs of his
own, is subject to debate.

1.4  The Central Thesis


As a result of their aporetic endings, the dialogues of definition are some-
times considered empty of any positive doctrine.11 George Grote gives
expression to the negative reading:

Interpreters sift with microscopic accuracy the negative dialogues of Plato,


in hopes of detecting the ultimate elements of that positive solution which
he is supposed to have lodged therein, and which, when found, may be put
together so as to clear up all the antecedent difficulties…I cannot take this
view of either Socrates or of Plato.12

In the following pages, I take up the view Grote says he cannot take.
Despite their negative endings, I believe the early dialogues contain posi-
tive answers. In order to detect the positive theory of virtue lying below
the surface of these texts, I believe we must recognize something subtle
about the ‘What is F?’ question. We must recognize what I call its ‘dual
function’. This is the central thesis of my project. The ‘What is F?’ ques-
tion serves as a springboard for two distinct types of investigation into
F-ness. In defending the dual-function thesis, I am opposing a main-
stream assumption about the ‘What is F?’ question.
Scholars typically assume that Socrates is looking for a single type of
answer across dialogues. Let’s call this the standard interpretation. The
standard interpretation assumes that Socrates is asking the ‘What is F?’
question univocally across dialogues; in each dialogue where the ‘What is
F?’ question is raised, Socrates is requesting the same type of answer.
There is significant disagreement, of course, as to what type of answer

11
See also, Guthrie (1975) and more recently Wolfsdorf (2008).
12
Grote (1865: 292–299).
1 INTRODUCTION 9

Socrates is requesting—this disagreement will be one of my major con-


cerns—but there is an underlying assumption too, shared by commenta-
tors nearly across the board. The shared assumption is that Socrates is
pursuing a single type of answer.13 Some have argued that the ‘What is F?’
question is a conceptual question, introducing something like conceptual
analysis and launching a search for the meaning of ‘F’. Others have argued
that the ‘What is F?’ question is a causal question, introducing causal anal-
ysis, and launching a search for a deeper account of how F-ness fits into
the causal network of the world. There are, of course, other interpreta-
tions that fall under the scope of the ‘standard interpretation’ as well. But
these are the two dominant lines, as I see it. And yet, these interpretations
do not fully account for the complexity of the question. They cannot
accommodate the full body of textual evidence. They cannot do so, I
argue, because Socrates is doing both. Socrates is pursuing two types of
answers. The ‘What is F?’ question is expressed differently in different
places, used by Plato’s Socrates to introduce two distinct types of investi-
gations—one conceptual, one causal. If this is correct, then the key to
understanding any dialogue of definition, the key to interpreting what
Socrates is doing there, is to learn how to decipher between these two dis-
tinct investigations. I will offer a way to do that. In the end, I hope to
show that the dual-function thesis (a) resolves interpretive issues in Socratic
scholarship, (b) provides systematic interpretations of the negative end-
ings, (c) generates novel interpretations of the Charmides and Lysis, and
(d) casts further doubt upon the authenticity of the Hippias Major. In the
next section, I provide a roadmap for the journey ahead, so you will know
where the argument is leading.

13
There are a few exceptions. Richard Robinson (1941) argues that there is a duality built
into the ‘What is F?’ question, but the two senses he has in mind are different from mine.
David Charles (2006) argues that there are two distinct inquiries emerging from the ‘What
is virtue?’ question in the Meno. Lastly, although he takes the ‘What is F?’ question to be a
metaphysical question in all cases, David Wolfsdorf (2005) observes some important differ-
ences in the criteria surrounding ‘What is F?’ questions, including the language used to
express those criteria. I take the textual evidence in a different direction, but my project has
benefitted from each of these scholarly contributions.
10 J. C. CLARK

1.5  Chapter Overview
In the next chapter, I provide some useful background information for
understanding the dual-function thesis and the broader interpretive debate
concerning Socratic inquiry. I then introduce the dual-function thesis,
illustrating the distinction, and focusing on relevant passages. Socrates
rarely offers examples of the type of answer he wants in response to his
‘What is F?’ question. But a proper examination of the context surround-
ing the few examples he does provide (Meno 76a; Laches 192a-b) will
reveal that the ‘What is F’ question serves these two functions. In some
dialogues, the ‘What is F?’ question serves as a conceptual question. In
other dialogues, it serves as a causal question. The conceptual investiga-
tion into F-ness can be distinguished from the causal investigation by
identifying the distinct technical vocabularies associated with each investi-
gation. Sometimes, in raising the ‘What is F?’ question, Socrates asks
explicitly about the essence (ousia) of F-ness. Other times, in raising the
‘What is F?’ question, he asks explicitly about the capacity (dunamis) of
F-ness. This strategic framing of the ‘What is F’ question—the consistent
use of two distinct technical vocabularies—indicates that there are two
distinct types of investigations into F-ness. There are other important indi-
cators as well. For example, Socrates employs a substitution requirement
(the requirement that two co-referring expressions should be inter-­
substitutable) to signal the conceptual investigation, and he employs the
acquisition-question as a precursor to the causal investigation.
In Chap. 3, I consider the unity of the virtues. For many years, this
thesis has been a thorn in the side of scholars. The unity thesis presents an
apparently intractable interpretive puzzle.14 Socrates sometimes suggests
that the many virtues are ‘distinct parts of a single whole’ (see Laches

14
This puzzle led me to investigate the ‘What is F?’ question in the first place. Early on, I
had an intuition that Plato’s Socrates was advancing a coherent position concerning the rela-
tion among virtues. As I followed this theme throughout my studies, I became increasing
enamored by the artistry of Plato, and simultaneously intrigued by the philosophy of
Socrates. It seemed to me that Plato, in his artistic brilliance, was weaving certain dialogues
together into a literary whole, in much same way Socrates had bound the virtues together
into a unity within his philosophy. Thus, I grew increasingly eager to explore the artistry, and
to see for myself what Socratic position would come to light there. In particular, it was my
encounters with the work of interpreters like Gregory Vlastos and Terry Penner on this issue
that made me realize the gravity of the ‘What is F?’ question—namely, that in order to under-
stand the early dialogues, and to uncover the Socratic position that lay buried there, I had to
confront the ‘What is F?’ question head-on.
1 INTRODUCTION 11

190c9-11, Meno 78d-e), other times he suggests that the virtues are all
‘one and the same thing’ (see Protagoras 331b). At face value, these sug-
gestions are logically incompatible. By attributing to Socrates two distinct
levels of investigation, however, we can make sense of Socrates’ remarks.
The dual-function thesis yields an interpretation that corroborates a solu-
tion first articulated by Michael Ferejohn (1982, 1984), and then devel-
oped by Thomas Brickhouse and Nicholas Smith (1997, 2010). My own
solution, though distinct, falls squarely within this family of reconciliation
solutions. On my reading, Socrates is suggesting that the many virtues are
conceptually distinct ‘parts’, even though they refer to a single causal
power (dunamis) in the soul.
Chapter 4 will consider Socrates’ epistemic principle—a principle
known as the ‘priority of definition’. This principle implies that an agent
cannot know any properties or examples of F without knowing first how
to define ‘F’. The priority of definition was famously criticized by Peter
Geach, who called it the ‘Socratic fallacy’. Geach (1966) argued that we
can know ‘heaps of things’ without being able to define our terms in a
precise way. As typically understood, the priority of definition is not only
unintuitive, it presents a problem for Socrates’ approach. Socrates’ own
method appears to make use of properties and examples of F-ness while
pursuing a definition of ‘F’. Thus, there is a palpable tension between
Socrates’ epistemic principle and his philosophical method. By attributing
to Socrates two distinct levels of investigation, however, the priority of
definition divides neatly into two distinct and respectable principles, thus
resolving the tension.
If indeed Socrates has a coherent method and a positive theory, why
then do the dialogues of definition always end in failure? And why does
Socrates continually profess ignorance? In Chap. 5, these questions find
answers from within the present framework. The dual-function thesis
divides the epistemic process of developing moral knowledge into two
separate stages. This adds a level of complexity to Socratic epistemology.
One result is that Socrates has a merely conceptual knowledge (Meno,
100b4-6), since he has ascended to the first epistemological level, but not
the second. Socrates knows which conceptual answers tend to survive phil-
osophical scrutiny, but he is unable to give a complete causal account of
how things fit together. For this reason, he must continue securing his
system of virtue-related beliefs.
The dialogues of definition end in failure for a variety of instructive
reasons related to the epistemological process outlined above. The
12 J. C. CLARK

Euthyphro ends in failure because Euthyphro cannot provide a conceptual


answer concerning piety. The Laches ends in failure because Socrates’
interlocutors fail to distinguish between conceptual and causal answers
concerning courage. The Meno ends in failure because Meno insists upon
conducting a causal investigation, thus bypassing a conceptual investiga-
tion Socrates considers epistemically prior. The Republic ends in failure
because Thrasymachus is unable to deliver a causal answer concerning
justice.
Three dialogues require separate treatment: Charmides, Lysis and
Hippias Major. Chapter 6 concerns the Charmides, which pivots on the
question ‘What is temperance?’ The technical vocabulary that would typi-
cally accompany the ‘What is F?’ question is mostly absent in the Charmides.
The dialogue ends in failure because Socrates never effectively distin-
guishes between the conceptual question and the causal question. Socrates
never clarifies the type of answer he is pursuing. And yet, even despite the
negative ending (175b2-3), the dialogue manages to point readers in a
positive direction by hinting toward the ‘knowledge of good and bad’. In
the end, the dual-function thesis yields a positive new reading of the dia-
logue’s multi-faceted ending.
Chapter 7 concerns the Lysis, which appears to pivot on the question
‘What is a friend (philos)?’ It shares many features with the dialogues of
definition. But the Lysis ends in failure because the inquiry moves in the
wrong direction. Socrates never explicitly asks the ‘What is friendship?’
question. He begins instead from the question of how one becomes a
friend to another. In other words, the Lysis begins with the acquisition
question, and proceeds backward from a causal investigation toward a
conceptual investigation. This is why the dialogue ends in aporia.
Nevertheless, the dual-function thesis is able to yield a positive new inter-
pretation of the dialogue’s ending as well.
The authorship of the Hippias Major is rarely questioned anymore. The
dialogue is centered on the question ‘What is the beautiful?’ As Paul
Woodruff (1982) once declared it, ‘the dust has now settled on the dis-
pute over the dialogue’s authenticity, and little support remains for the
negative side’. Prior to this declaration, however, Hippias Major was sub-
ject to scrutiny from nineteenth century scholars, many of whom argued
that the dialogue is not the genuine work of Plato. The dual-function
thesis provides new evidence against its authenticity. The use of technical
vocabulary surrounding the ‘What is F?’ question is not characteristic of
Plato’s hand.
1 INTRODUCTION 13

References
Allen, R.E. 1970. Plato’s Euthyphro and the Earlier Theory of Forms. New York:
Humanity Press.
Barnes, J. 1984. The Complete Works of Aristotle. Vol. 1 and 2. Princeton
University Press.
Brickhouse, T.C., and N.D. Smith. 1994. Plato’s Socrates. Oxford University Press.
———. 1997. Socrates and the Unity of Virtues. The Journal of Ethics 4: 311–324.
———. 2010. Socratic Moral Psychology. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Charles, D. 2006. Types of Definition in Meno. In Remembering Socrates, ed.
L. Judson and V. Karasmanis. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Cooper, J.M. 1997. Plato’s Complete Works. Indianapolis: Hackett.
Ferejohn, Michael. 1982. The Unity of Virtue and the Objects of Socratic Inquiry.
Journal of the History of Philosophy 20 (1): 1–21.
———. 1984. Socratic Virtue as Parts of Itself. Philosophy and Phenomenological
Research. 44 (3): 377–388.
Forster, M. 2006. Socrates’ Demand for Definition. Oxford Studies in Ancient
Philosophy 31: 1–47.
Geach, P. 1966. Plato’s Euthyphro. Monist 50 (3): 369–382.
Grote, G. 1865. Plato and Other Companions of Sokrates (1st ed.; 1988, 3rd ed.).
London: Murray.
Guthrie, W.K.C. 1975. History of Greek Philosophy, Vol. 4: Plato: The Man and his
Dialogues: Earlier Period. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Kraut, R. 1984. Socrates and the State. Princeton University Press.
Nails, D. 1995. Agora, Academy, and the Conduct of Philosophy. Kluwer Academic
Publishing.
Penner, T. 1973. The Unity of Virtue. Philosophical Review 80 (1): 35–68.
Robinson, Richard. 1941. Plato’s Method of Dialectic. Philosophical Review
50 (5): 542.
Vlastos, G. 1976. What Did Socrates Understand by His What Is F? Question? In
Platonic Studies, ed. G. Vlastos. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
———. 1991. Socrates, Ironist and Moral Philosopher. Ithaca: Cornell
University Press.
———. 1995. In Studies in Greek Philosophy, ed. D. Graham, vol. 2. Princeton:
Princeton University Press.
Wolfsdorf, David. 2005. ΔΥΝΑΜΙΣ in Laches. Pheonix 9 (3/4): 324–347.
———. 2008. Trials of Reason. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Woodruff, P. 1982. Plato: ‘Hippias Major’. Indianapolis: Hackett.
CHAPTER 2

The Dual-Function Thesis

2.1   Definition and the ‘What is F?’ Question


Understanding the ‘What is F?’ question is crucial to understanding
Socrates as a philosopher. But there is a cloud of confusion surrounding
the ‘What is F?’ question. It is not entirely clear what Socrates wants in
terms of an answer. A variety of interpretations have been proposed. The
most immediate answer, of course, is that Socrates is looking for defini-
tions. In keeping with Aristotle’s characterization, therefore, we might
proceed to describe the object of Socratic inquiry in terms of definition.
Unfortunately, this characterization is problematic for a few reasons. First,
describing the ‘What is F?’ question as a request for definition is uninfor-
mative. It pushes the question back, without answering it. We still need to
determine what constitutes an adequate definition, or what type of defini-
tion Socrates is looking for. Socrates may be looking for a nominal defini-
tion, for instance, or he may be looking for a real definition, etc.1 Thus,
even if Socrates is looking for a definition, it will be necessary to examine
the character of Socratic definition. Second, the word ‘definition’ is itself
rather anachronistic. Socrates never uses the technical term Aristotle
would eventually coin for definition, horismos; and he uses the related
terms horos and horizein very infrequently. For this reason, we have limited
justification for regarding the objects of Socratic inquiry as definitions.

1
For a useful exchange, see Charles (2006) and Fine (2010).

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature 15


Switzerland AG 2022
J. C. Clark, Plato’s Dialogues of Definition,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-07849-1_2
16 J. C. CLARK

There is perhaps a more serious danger lurking here, however. For by


characterizing Socrates’ central activity as a search for definitions, we also
run the risk of reading contemporary notions of definition into a text
where they don’t belong.2 This is a tendency we should take care to avoid.
Thus, understanding Socrates’ question as a request for definition can
turn out to be either uninformative, or misleading. Fortunately, however,
we can reach an understanding of Socrates’ central question, and his crite-
ria for a successful answer, without drawing any firm conclusions about
whether such answers amount to ‘definitions’ (in any technical or familiar
sense of that term). For ease of exposition, I will occasionally refer to the
objects of Socratic inquiry as ‘definitions’. However, in doing so, I take
this characterization to be unfinished, something in need of further
specification.

2.2   Kraut’s Theoretical Interpretation


Another possible answer is that Socrates is requesting a full-blown ethical
theory with his ‘What is F?’ question. Richard Kraut (1984) contends that
Socrates is looking for a theory of right action. Thus, he compares Socrates’
activity in the early dialogues to what ethical theorists like Kant and Mill
are trying to do in raising a question like ‘What is justice?’ Kant and Mill
are striving for a theory of right and wrong, trying to discover a first prin-
ciple of morality. On this interpretation, Socrates is pursuing a principle
stating in concise terms what it is about an action that makes it right or
wrong. Julia Annas, in discussing Republic I, strikes a similar chord:

‘What [Socrates] is doing is investigating what justice is; and this is a com-
prehensible task, one undertaken in books like Rawls’s A Theory of Justice,
but one not usefully described as giving a definition of justice’.3

Kraut agrees. In raising the ‘What is F?’ question, Socrates is not looking
for a definition. He is looking instead for a moral principle. After all,
according to Kraut, one could give, if one wanted to ‘the fundamental
kernel of Rawl’s theory in a fairly short statement…[and] similarly for
Utilitarianism’.4 On this reading, then, Socrates is looking for an answer

2
For a useful discussion of this, see Benson (2013).
3
Annas (1981: 23).
4
Kraut (1984: 282).
2 THE DUAL-FUNCTION THESIS 17

resembling the principle of utility, or perhaps the two principles afforded


by Rawls in A Theory of Justice.
Needless to say, this is a radically different interpretation. And it results
in a radically different reading of the early dialogues. My own interpreta-
tion of the ‘What is F?’ question falls somewhere in between. I do not
think Socrates is looking for a full-blown ethical theory. But I agree that
Socrates is doing something more theoretically robust than merely search-
ing for definitions. On my view, Socrates is pursuing, among other things,
a deep psychological explanation of the virtuous person, including their
unique capacity for virtuous action. Kraut addresses this possibility as
follows:

Of course, [Socrates] differs from Kant and Mill, since he believes that
knowledge of the correct ethical theory will by itself motivate virtuous
action: that is why Socrates’ search for an ethical theory is at the same time
a search for a virtuous person’s motive-force.

Kraut appeals to Socrates’ intellectualist position. ‘Socratic Intellectualism’


refers to Socrates’ position with regard to both motivation and virtue. In
the case of motivation, Socrates holds that every agent seeks to pursue the
human good (eu prattein), and to avoid the bad. There is disagreement
over how, precisely, to interpret this thesis. It can be understood (most
plausibly) to mean that every agent wants what is really good for them.5 In
any case, Socrates holds that anyone who has the opportunity to do what
they believe to be best will always do it. This is referred to as Socrates’
motivational intellectualism. To subscribe to motivational
intellectualism is to deny the possibility of akrasia, or the phenomenon of
acting against one’s better judgment. Socrates denies the possibility of
akrasia in the Protagoras. For Socrates, all deliberate actions are the result
of an agent’s beliefs about what’s best for them (at the moment of action).
Thus, all moral error is the result of an agent’s mistaken beliefs (about
what’s best). But there is another side to Socrates’ intellectualism. To

5
This is the interpretation of Penner and Rowe (1994: 1–25), that one cannot desire bad
things, even when one takes them to be good. The real good is always the object of one’s
desire. Thus, whenever an agent has a false belief about what is best for them, they do not
(strictly speaking) desire to perform the action they perform as a result of their mistaken
belief. On the other side of the debate is Gerasimos Santas (1979), who holds instead that,
for Socrates, bad things are sometimes desired by those who think they are good, even
though the bad things are never the intended objects of their desires.
18 J. C. CLARK

subscribe to intellectualism is also to accept that ‘doing what is best’


requires true belief or knowledge. For Socrates, the virtues are stable dis-
positions to do what’s best; and only knowledge has the requisite stability.
Thus, the virtues amount to a certain kind of knowledge. This is referred
to as Socrates’ virtue intellectualism.
In one sense, Kraut reasons correctly. Given Socrates’ intellectualist
position, knowing the correct moral theory would guarantee right action.
But this observation (while strictly true) is beside the point. After all, we
are trying to determine what kind of answer Socrates is pursuing with his
‘What is F?’ question. And we must recognize, first of all, that there is a
significant difference between pursuing a theory of right action, and pur-
suing an account of virtue in the psychē. As possible objects of Socratic
inquiry, these are two rather distinct items. In the early dialogues, Socrates
compares human virtue to the sort of knowledge involved in a craft.
Technē is typically rendered ‘craft’, or ‘art’. But the word also carries con-
notations of ‘skill’ or ‘expertise’. The virtuous person is different from
others, because the virtuous person has a unique skill or expertise. Now, it
is one thing to request an over-arching principle capturing the features of
right action; it is quite another thing to request a psychological account of
the capacity internal to an expert. So, which of these objects is Socrates
requesting from his interlocutor? I contend it is primarily the latter. Kraut
contends it is primarily the former (though there is also a sense in which it
is both simultaneously, for Kraut, since the capacity internal to an expert is
nothing more than an intellectual grasp of the correct moral theory).
Although I disagree with Kraut’s reading, an interesting overlap will
emerge between my interpretation and his. Thus, as we proceed, it will be
necessary for me to specify where I agree with the ‘theoretical’ reading,
and where I disagree.

2.3  Allen’s Metaphysical Interpretation


Before moving on to the dual-function interpretation, there is one addi-
tional rival worth placing on the radar. In keeping with the theory of
Forms found in later dialogues like Phaedo, Republic II-X, and Parmenides,
R.E. Allen (1970) contends that the ‘What is F?’ question is always a
request for the metaphysical Form of F-ness. According to Allen,

[Socrates] supposes that the Form may be used as a standard, by which to


judge what things are holy and what things are not (6e); that is an essence,
2 THE DUAL-FUNCTION THESIS 19

by which or in virtue of which holy things are holy (6d); and that it is
capable of real or essential definition (11a, 12c-d). These assumptions con-
stitute a theory of Forms… Logically, Forms play a regulative role in dialec-
tic: as antecedents of ‘it’ in the question ‘What is it?’ they determine the
kinds of answer which are acceptable, and more importantly, unacceptable,
in Socrates’ search for definition…Metaphysically, Forms affect the career of
the world: they are the real natures of things, and the world is what it is
because they are what they are.6

For Allen, in asking the ‘What is F?’ question, Socrates is pursuing a state-
ment that captures the metaphysical Form of F-ness. These ontologically
independent entities are the real objects of Socratic inquiry, even in the
early dialogues. My reasons for rejecting the metaphysical interpretation
will surface as I examine specific passages. But allow me to highlight one
reason here. Aristotle draws a contrast between Socrates’ pursuit of defini-
tions, which issues from the ‘What is F?’ question, and Plato’s metaphysi-
cal theory of Forms, which ‘gave them a separate existence’.

When Socrates was occupying himself with the excellences of character, and
in connection with them became the first to raise the problem of universal
definition….[he] did not make the universals or the definitions exist apart;
they however [those who follow Plato], gave them separate existence, and
this was the kind of thing they called Forms. Metaphysics, XIII, 1078b, 18.

And again, moments later:

Socrates gave the impulse to this theory [of Forms], as we said in our earlier
discussion, by reason of his definitions, but he did not separate universals
from individuals; and in this he thought rightly, in not separating them.
Metaphysics, XIII, 1086b, 2

We should take Aristotle’s testimony into account where we can. Allen’s


interpretation of the ‘What is F?’ question does not cohere with Aristotle’s
report so well. His metaphysical interpretation leaves no room for the
contrast drawn above, since he Platonizes Socrates’ search for definitions.
Of course, Aristotle’s testimony is somewhat inconclusive. The early dia-
logues are written by Plato. Thus, we might conclude, as Allen does, that
the view being assembled throughout the early dialogues is strictly

6
Allen (1970: 67–68).
20 J. C. CLARK

Platonic—in these dialogues, we are dealing with Plato’s Socrates, not the
historical figure Aristotle describes. It seems, therefore, that any decisive
evidence against the metaphysical reading will have to come from the early
dialogues themselves. In subsequent chapters, I find occasion to discuss
textual evidence that Socrates is not pursuing metaphysically distinct
Forms. I also explain how the search for definitions in the early dialogues
can be understood as ‘giving the impulse’ to Plato’s later theory. As it hap-
pens, then, the interpretation I defend is mildly developmentalist. On my
view, the early dialogues embody a Socratic position; later dialogues
embody a recognizably Platonic system, which includes the theory of
Forms.7 For those inclined toward a more Unitarian view of the Platonic
corpus, this should not be a deal-breaker. My interpretation will include
an account of how the search for definition effectively paves the way for
various positions in later Platonic thought.

2.4  Causal and Conceptual Analysis


It is now time to develop the dual-function thesis. The central thesis of
this book is based upon two leading interpretations of the ‘What is F?’
question. These interpretations were brought into opposition by means of
a scholarly exchange between Gregory Vlastos and Terry Penner. Nobody
did more to reveal the complexity of Socrates’ central question than these
two commentators in the 1970s. The nature of their exchange can be
expressed in the following way. In asking the ‘What is F?’ question, it is
not entirely clear whether Socrates is asking a conceptual question (about
the meaning of a virtue term ‘F’), or a causal question (about what goes
on in the psychē of the virtuous person). In contemporary ethics, the dis-
tinction between causal analysis and conceptual analysis is often chal-
lenged. But the relevance of this distinction can be recognized in other
areas of philosophy. It has been observed, for instance, that ‘the [causal]
question of what perception is, what goes on when someone perceives
something, is not adequately answered by finding out what words like
“see” and “hear” mean… or by analyzing, however fully and accurately,
any established concept of perception’.8 The same observation can be

7
For a defense of the separation between Socratic and Platonic dialogues, see Penner (1992).
8
This is how J.L. Mackie (1977: 19–20) explains the relevance of the distinction between
conceptual and factual analysis. What Mackie refers to as factual analysis, I will refer to as
‘causal’ analysis.
2 THE DUAL-FUNCTION THESIS 21

made more clearly with regard to colors. For instance, John Locke
describes colors as ‘secondary qualities’. As they occur in material things,
colors consist in ‘patterns of arrangement and movement of minute par-
ticles on the surfaces of objects, which make them, as we would now say,
reflect light of some frequencies better than others, and so enable these
objects to produce colour sensations in us, but colours as we see them do
not literally belong to the surfaces of material things’.9 Locke provides an
account of how colors fit into the causal network of the world—an account
that cannot be established by analyzing color concepts, or investigating
meanings.
The distinction between causal and conceptual analysis appears to moti-
vate various disagreements about Socrates and his ‘What is F?’ question.
Michael Forster (2006) has argued that, in raising the ‘What is F?’ ques-
tion, Socrates wants a simple statement of meaning. He is pursuing an
‘informative synonym’, a statement anyone must know ‘in order to under-
stand the definienda’.10 On this view, the ‘What is F?’ question is a concep-
tual question—a request for conceptual analysis, which prompts an
investigation into the meaning (as opposed to the reference) of ‘F’. Let us
call this the conceptual interpretation. Michael Forster joins Gregory
Vlastos (1972) in defending the conceptual interpretation against Terry
Penner (1973).11 According to Penner,

…that question is not a request for the meaning of the word …, but rather
a request for a psychological account (explanation) of what it is in men’s
psychēs that makes them brave. For the ‘What is F?’ question is often put {by
Socrates} as ‘What is that single thing by virtue of which (with or by which)
the many F things are F?’; and I will be arguing that that too is a causal or
explanatory question rather than an epistemological or semantic one.12

For Penner, the ‘What is F?’ question is a causal question—a request for a
more scientific explanation of how virtues fit into the causal network of
the world. In raising the ‘What is F?’ question, Socrates wants a causal
account of what goes on in the psychē of the virtuous person.13 This type

9
Ibid., p. 20.
10
See Forster (2006: 1–47).
11
The conceptual interpretation is also defended by Cross (1965: 27–29).
12
Penner (1973: 56–57).
13
See Penner (1973: 41, 45, 56–57). For another proponent of the casual interpretation,
see Bluck (1951).
22 J. C. CLARK

of account will involve facts about the inner ‘motive-force’, or psychologi-


cal capacity that causes a person to act virtuously. I will call this the causal
interpretation.
Perhaps the key distinction can be illuminated further with a few exam-
ples. Penner explains the distinction using a pair of historical examples.
According to Penner, if we want to understand what precisely Socrates is
getting at in asking the question ‘What is bravery?’ we should think of
Sigmund Freud asking ‘Well, what is hysteria, really?’ rather than Gilbert
Ryle asking ‘Well, what is a feeling, really?’14 This is a helpful comparison.
During Freud’s scientific analysis of hysteria as a psychological phenome-
non, he explains the character of his investigation as follows:

A chance observation has led us, over a number of years, to investigate a


great variety of different forms and symptoms of hysteria, with a view to
discovering their precipitating cause—or the event which provoked the first
occurrence, often many years earlier, of the phenomenon in question.15

On the causal interpretation, the ‘What is F?’ question prompts an inves-


tigation of this kind. Socrates is trying to determine the ‘symptoms’ of
virtue in the psychē. He wants to catalogue the associated behaviors, to
discover its precipitating causes, its tendencies, and so forth. Meanwhile,
the conceptual interpretation understands the ‘What is F?’ question as
prompting an investigation of a different kind. In The Concept of Mind,
Gilbert Ryle describes his examination of various mental phenomena by
stating that he will analyze ‘certain of the concepts of emotion and feeling’.
During an analysis of such concepts, he explains ‘that the word “emotion”
is used to designate at least three or four different kinds of things, which
[he calls] “inclinations” (or “motives”), “moods,” “agitations” (or “com-
motions”) and “feelings”’. One of the primary aims of this investigation is
to clear up what he calls ‘a great verbal muddle… associated with a great
logical muddle’.16 On the conceptual interpretation, therefore, the ‘What
is F?’ question prompts an investigation of this kind.

14
Penner (1973: 86–87).
15
Breuer and Freud (2004: 2).
16
Ryle (1949: 83–85), my emphasis.
2 THE DUAL-FUNCTION THESIS 23

2.5  A Neutral Example


Before delving into Socrates’ own examples, allow me to illustrate the
central distinction using a more generic example—one neither philosophi-
cal, nor psychological. This example is meant to be neutral. It is not a
Socratic example. For purposes of illustration, then, let us consider the
question ‘What is a clock?’ The question admits of both types of answers,
conceptual and causal. A conceptual answer would provide a simple state-
ment of meaning, explaining that a clock is ‘a device for measuring time,
which indicates hours and minutes’, a statement anyone must know in
order to understand the word ‘clock’. This answer provides the general
conditions any object must fulfill to qualify as a referent of the word
‘clock’. According to the conceptual interpretation, Socrates is pursuing
an answer of this kind.
Meanwhile, a causal answer would provide a more detailed account of
the causal mechanism, explaining that a clock is ‘a device for measuring
time, where a battery-powered circuit makes quartz crystal (in the shape of a
tuning fork) oscillate at about 30,000 times per second; the circuit detects the
oscillations and turns them into electric pulses (one per second), which pro-
vides power to the gears that sweep hands around a clock-face’. This state-
ment explains how a quartz clock, in particular, fits into the causal network
of the world. According to the causal interpretation, Socrates is pursuing
an answer of this kind. The example has limitations, of course. There are
many different kinds of clocks (not just quartz clocks). A different answer
might be required in the case of some other kind of clock. In this example,
moreover, it may be impossible to give a causal answer that would cover
all clocks, which is something Socrates would seem to prefer in the case of
virtue.17 Still, the example is intended to assist our understanding of the
basic distinction between causal and conceptual answers, I think it does as
much. Without further ado, then, let us turn our attention to the exam-
ples provided by Socrates himself. I wish to demonstrate that the examples
of adequate answers provided by Socrates verify that he is looking for
answers of both kinds.

17
Socrates, it seems, would prefer the more general answer covering all cases of virtue,
though he also admits that he may not be able to provide many answers of this kind. See
Meno 76d-77b.
24 J. C. CLARK

2.6  Examples from Socrates


We might be tempted to reject the causal interpretation of the ‘What is F?’
question, because it does not harmonize well with Socrates’ most promi-
nent examples of adequate answers. One such example is found in the
Meno (76a), where Socrates raises the question ‘What is figure?’ and offers
the model-answer that figure is ‘the limit of a solid’. The other example
comes from the Laches (192a-b), where Socrates provides a model-answer
to the question ‘What is quickness?’ saying that quickness is ‘the faculty
that gets a great deal done in a short time’.18 The striking thing about
both examples, according to Vlastos and Forster, is that ‘they are not at all
substantively explanatory, scientifically abstruse, or complex in the way envis-
aged by the [causal] interpretation’ (Forster 2006: 23). On the contrary,
these answers ‘fit nicely all contexts in which a Greek speaker would use
the word to designate the property’ (Vlastos 1976: 414–15)—they explain
the meaning of the word in simple terms to anyone in need of such an
explanation. In this way, our examples from Meno and Laches have been
taken to support the conceptual interpretation over the causal interpreta-
tion, establishing that Socrates is concerned primarily with conceptual
analysis.
Unfortunately, however, commentators on both sides of the debate
have paid inadequate attention to the contexts surrounding our examples
from the Meno and Laches. This unfortunate fact has led to a number of
oversimplified views about the ‘What is F?’ question, and (consequently
also) about the philosophical activity of a monumental figure in the his-
tory of philosophy. A proper examination of their surrounding contexts
will reveal that Socrates does indeed want a simple statement of meaning.
In some cases, at least, the ‘What is F?’ question is a conceptual question,
a request for a simple statement of meaning. This is particularly true of the
Euthyphro and the first section of the Meno (from 70–75). In other cases,
however, the ‘What is F?’ question is a causal question, which means that
Socrates wants a more scientific, causal account of what goes on in the
psychē of the virtuous person (what ‘motive-force’ causes a person to act
virtuously). Such an account would describe the psychological processes,
mechanisms, and capacities involved in virtuous action. This is true of the
18
Another example is given in the Theaetetus, where Socrates gives a simple answer to the
question ‘What is Mud?’ The question appears to give rise to conceptual analysis. However,
I will not discuss this example here, or the Theaetetus generally, simply because it doesn’t
belong to the same family of early dialogues.
2 THE DUAL-FUNCTION THESIS 25

Protagoras and the Laches. In what follows, therefore, I argue that the
‘What is F?’ question serves these two separate functions. The key to
understanding any dialogue of definition is to determine which question
(conceptual or causal) Socrates is asking. I propose a way to do just that.
The conceptual investigation can be distinguished from the causal investi-
gation by identifying the distinct technical vocabularies associated with
each type of investigation. I believe Plato was aware of the distinction; he
chose to have his character Socrates use separate vocabularies consistently
and strategically, as a way to signal the two distinct investigations into
virtue. In addition, he employs the acquisition-question as a clear precur-
sor to the causal investigation, just as he employs a ‘substitution require-
ment’ in the context of the conceptual investigation. These additional
indicators also help us decipher between causal and conceptual investiga-
tions. Table 2.1 illustrates the two respective branches of the dual-­
function thesis.
I will begin with the example(s) put forward in the Meno. The Meno is
a complex dialogue, which happens to exhibit both types of investigation.
In the following section, I establish that the ‘What is F?’ question is a con-
ceptual question in the Meno and Euthyphro. I then examine the Meno and
the Protagoras, in order to establish that the ‘What is F?’ question is some-
times a causal question.

2.7  The Conceptual Investigation


My present aim is to establish that Socrates is sometimes pursuing a con-
ceptual answer, and therefore conducting conceptual analysis (in the man-
ner Gilbert Ryle, for example). In the Meno, Socrates raises the question
‘What is virtue?’ (71d4). I want to suggest that he is looking for a

Table 2.1
What is F?

Conceptual Investigation Causal Investigation


Answer Type: statement of the meaning of F-ness account of how F-ness fits into causal network
Key Vocabulary: ousia, eidos, paradeigma dunamis, pragma, pephuke
Key Indicators: Substitution Requirement Acquisition Question
Key Dialogues: Euthyphro, Meno (70-79) Protagoras, Laches, Meno (80-100)
26 J. C. CLARK

conceptual answer. After a few unimpressive attempts, Socrates clarifies


the question at hand by providing a series of examples. These model-­
examples are meant to afford insight into the type of answer Socrates wants
in response to the ‘What is F?’ question. One example is endorsed by
Socrates; a different example is endorsed by Meno.19 For our purposes,
then, let us restrict our attention to these two examples. The first example
answers the question ‘What is figure?’ The second answers the question
‘What is color?’

A1 Figure (schēma) is the limit of a solid. (76a5)


A2 Color is an effluence from shapes which is commensurate with sight and
perceptible. (76d5)

The first answer, A1, is endorsed by Socrates (76e), who indicates that it
is somehow better (beltiōn) than the second answer, A2. Proponents of the
conceptual interpretation tend to focus (almost exclusively) on the first
example. By all appearances, A1 is a conceptual answer about the meaning
of figure (schēma). This example lacks the scientific or mechanistic com-
plexity of a causal account. Of course, the same cannot be said for A2,
which is endorsed by Meno. Thus, both types of answers—conceptual and
causal—find endorsement in the dialogue. But let us begin by discussing
Socrates’ endorsement of A1.20
Socrates’ preferred example is a conceptual answer concerning figure
(schēma). Not only does A1 have the appearance of a simple statement of
meaning, there is additional evidence throughout the dialogue that
Socrates is conducting conceptual analysis. When Meno fails in his first
attempt to provide a satisfactory answer about virtue, Socrates explains

19
One previous example, namely, that ‘figure (schema)̄ is that which, alone of the things
that are, always accompanies color’ (75b10) is rejected by both Socrates and Meno.
Commentators often draw a connection between this answer and Euthyphro’s answer that
piety is ‘what all the gods love’. I discuss Euthyphro’s answer below. In the Euthyphro,
Socrates considers the answer to be a step in the right direction, but rejects it as a mere pathos.
20
Some readers may question whether A1 is a simple statement of the meaning. As a
default, I have been translating the Greek term sche ̄ma as ‘figure’. It is usually rendered ‘fig-
ure’ or ‘shape’, yet these traditional renderings give rise to difficulties. For example, ‘shape’
can be understood either two-dimensionally or three-dimensionally. I am in agreement with
Dominic Scott, who has made a convincing case for translating schema ̄ in this context as
‘surface’. Once we accept this plausible yet non-traditional translation for schema,̄ it becomes
evident that A1 is a simple statement of meaning. See Scott (2006: 5–45). See also Forster
(2006: 27).
2 THE DUAL-FUNCTION THESIS 27

what exactly he wants in terms of an answer. Socrates wants a statement


that satisfies the following criteria: the statement must pick out all and
only those things virtuous (73d), the statement must serve as a standard
(paradeigma) by which to judge whether an action is virtuous (72c), and
it must make clear the essence (ousia) of virtue (72b-c).21 Regarding the
essence, Socrates says the following:

M1 But Meno, to follow up on the image of swarms, suppose I should ask


what the essence (ousia) of the bee is, what it is (ho ti pot’ esti)? … so likewise
with the virtues, however many and various they may be, they all have one
common form (eidos) whereby they are virtues.22 (Meno 72a-c)

The criteria described above mirrors the investigation of the Euthyphro.


When Euthyphro provides his first answer to the question ‘What is piety?’
saying that piety (to hosion) is ‘what [he is] doing now’, prosecuting his
father for murder, Socrates responds in a very similar way:

E1 …this is not what I asked you, to tell me one or two of the many pious
acts, but to tell the form (to eidos), by which all pious things are pious …give
me what this form is that I may keep my eye fixed upon it and employ it as
a model (paradeigmati), if anything you or anyone else does agrees with it,
may say that the act is pious, and if not, that it is impious. (Euthyphro 6e)

Socrates is asking for the form (eidos) common to all pious things. He is
pursuing the distinctive feature of both pious acts and pious persons (7a).23
Euthyphro nearly succeeds with his third attempt—he claims that piety is
‘what all the gods love’. This brief statement appears to capture all and
only instances of pious acts and pious persons. It is neither too broad nor
too narrow. For this reason, Euthyphro’s attempt cannot be rejected by
counterexample, as so many answers to the ‘What is F?’ question are. It is
rejected for the following reason instead:

21
The second criterion requires that an answer serve as a model, or paradeigma, for deter-
mining whether an action is virtuous. Kraut’s (1984) interpretation of the ‘What is F?’ ques-
tion is based primarily on this criterion.
22
Translations of the Meno and Euthyphro are my own, adapted from G.A. Grube in
Cooper (1997).
23
In the Euthyphro, an emphasis is placed on pious acts, since Socrates is evaluating
Euthyphro’s action of prosecuting his own father.
28 J. C. CLARK

E2 Euthyphro, it seems that when you were asked what piety is you were
unwilling to make clear its essence (ousian dēlōsai), but you mentioned
something that has happened to (pathos) this piety, namely, that it is loved
by the gods. What it is, you have not said. (Euthyphro 11a-b)

Thus, the vocabulary used to describe the investigation into piety is the
same as the vocabulary used in the Meno. In both dialogues, an answer to
the ‘What is F?’ question should make clear the essence (ousia) of F-ness.
But we should wonder what exactly Socrates means by requesting the
essence of F-ness. For starters, the search for essence (ousia) appears to be
part of Socrates’ search for a definition. At 9c8-d5, Socrates reveals that he
is looking for a definition of some sort, saying ‘… we saw just now that
piety and its opposite are not defined (ou horismena) in this way…?’ The
verb horizō (or horizesthai) serves as a convenient verb of definition—to
mark out the boundaries of a word or concept.24 This happens to be one
of the few places in which Socrates employs definitional vocabulary. In one
way or another, then, the distinction in E2 is meant to provide important
information concerning the features of an adequate definition. In what
follows, I want to argue that Socrates is pursuing a nominal or conceptual
essence in these dialogues.
As we have seen, Euthyphro’s answer satisfies the condition of exten-
sional equivalence. Socrates appears to concede that all and only pious
things are loved by the gods at 9c-d.25 In traditional logic, however, we
distinguish between the extension and the intension of a term. The ‘exten-
sion’ indicates the set of objects picked out by the term, whereas the
‘intension’ indicates the internal description under which it picks them
out. By requesting the essence (ousia) in E2, Socrates is requesting some-
thing like the intension of ‘piety’.26 It is the distinction between pathos and

24
Having emended the definition so that piety is ‘what all the gods love’, Plato puts the
verb of definition back into Socrates’ mouth: ‘Do you wish this now to be our definition
(he ̄min hōristhai)…’ When referring to these boundaries, Plato occasionally uses the term
horos. Aristotle would later coin his own technical term for definition, horismos, from these
words, and he does so in a way that links the notion of essence to that of definition. As
Aristotle explains, ‘a definition (horismos) is an account (logos) that signifies an essence
(ousia)’. See Topics 102a1.
25
Socrates implicitly concedes co-extension at 9c2-d5 and 11b1-5.
26
It may be helpful here to borrow an example from Quine, as some commentators do.
According to Quine, even if all and only those creatures with a heart are creatures with a
kidney, it still does not follow, and is indeed false to suppose that ‘creature with a kidney’
means the same thing as, or defines ‘creature with a heart’. Allen (1970: 50–55).
2 THE DUAL-FUNCTION THESIS 29

ousia that allows Socrates to move beyond extensional equivalence, in order


to pursue the intensional content, or meaning of ‘F’. Euthyphro’s answer
fails to ‘make clear the essence (ousia)’ of piety. And it fails precisely
because it does not satisfy the criterion of intensional equivalence.27
My suggestion, therefore, is that Socrates is requesting an intensionally
equivalent expression when he requests the ousia of F-ness. But more pre-
cision is required here. In searching for the essence of ‘F’, I suggest that
Socrates is searching for what we would (nowadays) call the primary
intension of ‘F’. The primary intension aims to provide the general condi-
tions that must be met for something to qualify as a referent of ‘F’, whereas
the secondary intension aims to provide a deeper analysis of what consti-
tutes F in the actual world. In contemporary philosophy, both primary
and secondary intensions are considered viable candidates for the ‘mean-
ing’ of a concept. But the primary intension is what Socrates wants here.
For Socrates conducts his search for essence (ousia) as an a priori investi-
gation into the meaning of ‘F’.28 Unlike secondary intensions, primary
intensions will be independent of empirical factors. Take the concept of
‘water’, for example. The primary intension of ‘water’ will be ‘the domi-
nant clear, drinkable liquid in our environment’ or something similar.

27
In this respect, I am in agreement with Kahn (1996: 175). Speaking of E2, he says Plato
‘draws a line between the condition of extensional equivalence, which Euthyphro’s definition
satisfies, and the criterion of intensional content or ‘meaning’, which it does not. And Plato’s
notion of intensional content is made quite precise in the argument by which Euthyphro is
refuted’. We should not be surprised if the Platonic Socrates differs from Aristotle on the
nature of essences (ousiai). Essences for Aristotle are things in the natural world. By request-
ing the essence, I am suggesting Socrates is seeking something more like a nominal essence.
Thus, the present interpretation constitutes a departure from Woodruff (1976), who takes
Socrates to (always) be searching for real definitions or essences.
28
My claim is that Socratic ‘definitions’ state the meaning of the term ‘F’ by providing an
intensionally equivalent expression, or an informative synonym. Sameness in ‘meaning’ here
appears to involve sameness in cognitive significance, but it is worth noting that Socrates may
not have had a fully developed theory of meaning either. As Forster observes, we must also
keep in mind that ‘concepts of meaning and understanding vary subtly from period to
period, culture to culture, and even individual to individual’. Forster (2006, footnote 63).
Forster points out that Socrates might not have possessed the concept of meaning that we
possess, especially considering that (for Socrates) the statement of meaning must capture the
so-called ‘form’ of ‘F’. Unlike Forster, I doubt that Plato (as author of the Euthyphro) has any
metaphysics of meaning in mind. Plato’s Socrates requires that a definition describe the eidos,
but it does not appear to me that Socrates is using eidos in the technical way suggestive of the
metaphysical theory of Forms we find in later works. Thus, I will not be describing this as a
metaphysical search.
30 J. C. CLARK

Notice that the primary intension does not tell us what the chemical make-
­up of water is. It remains neutral on the question of whether the dominant
clear, drinkable liquid in our environment turns out to be H2O, or some-
thing else entirely. The primary intension therefore specifies how the refer-
ence of ‘water’ will depend on the way certain (scientific) details turn out
(with regard to that liquid) in the actual world. But the primary intension
does not itself depend on those details.29
Of course, the primary intension of a concept may involve some degree
of deference to a linguistic community. To some extent, my concept ‘F’
might pick out what those around me call F’s. For this reason, it is plau-
sible that competent speakers will have some initial grasp, at least, of the
primary intension. But the initial grasp will be imperfect. After all, the
general conditions that must be met for something to qualify as F will
often be extremely vague, especially at the edges of a concept. Thus, the
primary intension of ‘F’ will not always be obvious, nor easily discovered
upon reflection. Discovering the primary intension of ‘F’ may require a
great deal of reflection; and one’s immediate answer might be incorrect.
The remainder of this section seeks to achieve greater precision about
what Socrates is looking for when he requests the essence of F-ness. A word
of warning seems appropriate: this section, along with the next (Sects. 2.7
and 2.8), will require an extra dose patience. In these sections, I introduce
a series of technical distinctions necessary for understanding the central
arguments of the Euthyphro. Some of them have been relegated to end-
notes; but others remain crucial to the dual-function interpretation mov-
ing forward. These two sections aim to establish that (for Plato’s Socrates)
the primary intension of ‘F’ is integral to making clear the essence (ousia)
of ‘F’. In both Euthyphro and Meno, where Socrates is pursuing the essence
of F-ness, the object of Socratic inquiry is a primary intension. In the
Euthyphro, E2 teaches us that Socrates is pursuing an expression of just
this kind. To be more precise, however, a primary intension can also be
described as an informative synonym—a synonym articulated by means
of words, each of which signifies a concept other than that being defined
(Forster 2006: 27). Socrates provides a useful example in the Laches. He
defines ‘fear’ as ‘the expectation of future evil’ (198b 6-8). This would
qualify as an informative synonym.30 An answer of this kind can be con-
trasted with an expression like ‘dread’, which (although synonymous)

29
For further discussion, see David Chalmers (1996: 11–71).
30
Incidentally, this definition is given in the Protagoras as well (358d).
2 THE DUAL-FUNCTION THESIS 31

would not be informative in the relevant sense.31 This explains why the
synonym ‘holy’ (eusebes) is never given as definition of ‘piety’—although
synonymous, it is uninformative.
I am suggesting, therefore, that Socrates is pursuing an informative
synonym when he requests the essence (ousia) of F-ness. By framing the
‘What is F?’ question as a request for the essence of F, Socrates is conduct-
ing conceptual analysis. This hypothesis draws support from the argument
by which Euthyphro is refuted. The upshot of the argument is that
Euthyphro’s definition does not explain what makes something an instance
of ‘piety’. When Socrates asks whether pious things are loved by the gods
because they are pious, or whether pious things are pious because they are
loved by the gods, Euthyphro replies that it is precisely because pious
things are pious that the gods love them. Or, to put Euthyphro’s answer
another way, the gods love pious things because they are pious. Socrates
then represents Euthyphro’s definition with the adjectival form, theophiles,
‘god-beloved’ (the pious is what is god-beloved). At this point, Euthyphro’s
definition of piety runs into a substitution failure. It turns out that substi-
tuting ‘god-beloved’ for ‘pious’ changes the truth-value of Euthyphro’s
previous admission. For although it is true that the gods love pious things
precisely because they are pious, it is not true that the gods love god-­
beloved things precisely because they are god-beloved. If ‘pious’ and ‘god-­
beloved’ were the same (tauton), says Socrates, these two terms would be
mutually substitutable, salva veritate (without change in truth value).
Both Socrates and Euthyphro accept the ‘substitution requirement’.
At present, I wish to establish that the substitution requirement is an indi-
cator that Socrates is conducting a conceptual investigation. The substitu-
tion requirement resembles Leibniz’s principle that two co-referring
expressions will survive substitution (salva veritate) in any context. As
Peter Geach (1966) points out, however, this principle holds good only for
extensional contexts, not for non-extensional contexts. A non-­extensional
context is a context in which the extension is not all that matters in deter-
mining truth value. The ‘because’ in Euthyphro’s admission renders the

31
It is important to note in passing that ‘informative’ here introduces a certain kind of
asymmetry. Take any two intensionally equivalent expressions A and B. If A defines B, it will
not be the case that B defines A. Although ‘unmarried adult male’ might serve as an adequate
definition for ‘bachelor’, since it is informative in the relevant way, ‘bachelor’ will not serve
as an adequate definition for ‘unmarried adult male’. Note also that not every ‘F’ will admit
of a causal analysis. With the present example of ‘bachelor’, it is not clear what a causal analy-
sis would consist in. That being said, however, Socrates does think causal and conceptual
analysis can both be applied to the virtues.
32 J. C. CLARK

context non-extensional. According to Euthyphro, a thing x is loved by the


gods because it is pious. It is natural to read this ‘because’ as the ‘because’ of
reasons, or rational-basis.32 In other words, the ‘because’ here introduces
the agent’s reason (or rationale) for holding some attitude (the attitude of
love). Once we accept this, however, it becomes clear that an extensionally
equivalent expression will not survive substitution (salva veritate). For the
rationale on the basis of which the gods love something will depend upon
the concept under which the gods are thinking of it. The argument requires,
therefore, that the terms substituted are intensionally equivalent.33

32
I am therefore in agreement with the majority of commentators who hold that this is the
‘because’ of reasons or rational basis. See Evans (2012: 17); Geach (1966: 379–80); Cohen
(1971: 16–7,173–5); Thom (1978: 68).
33
Geach (1966) illustrates this point using the following pair of statements:

(i) ‘I hit him because he was the man who had just hit me’, and
(ii) ‘I hit him because he was my father’.

Imagine the following (unfortunate) scenario: The man who just hit Sam happens to be
Sam’s father. As we shall see, in this scenario, a substitution of the two extensionally equiva-
lent expressions (‘the man who just hit Sam’ and ‘Sam’s father’) cannot be allowed. For
suppose that the very reason Sam had for hitting some person, was simply the fact that (i) ‘he
was the man who had just hit me’. It certainly does not follow from this that Sam also struck
the person because he was Sam’s father, (ii). The fact that the person happened to be Sam’s
father might not have registered in Sam’s rationale at all (as, for instance, if Sam did not real-
ize the man was his father). Or again, the fact might have registered to Sam as a defeasible
reason against striking him. In either case, it is clear from Geach’s example that a substitution
of extensionally equivalent terms cannot be allowed in such a context. Importantly, however,
the substitution of intensionally equivalent terms can be allowed. And the same holds for our
context in the Euthyphro. Consider the following pair:

(iii) ‘The gods love x because x is pious’, and


(iv) ‘The gods love x because x is god-beloved’.

Socrates concedes that the terms ‘pious’ and ‘god-beloved’ are extensionally equivalent.
And yet, a substitution cannot be allowed unless the expressions are intensionally equivalent,
which they are not. As in the previous case, the rationale on the basis of which the gods love
something x will depend upon the concept under which the gods are thinking of x. Thus, the
inference from (iii) to (iv) is not a safe inference. As it turns out, the substitution requirement
is acceptable only if the expressions involved are intensionally equivalent. By employing the
substitution requirement, therefore, Socrates appears to be looking for an intensionally
equivalent expression—an informative synonym.
2 THE DUAL-FUNCTION THESIS 33

Notice that if we accept the causal interpretation of the ‘What is F?’


question here, the substitution requirement presents a serious problem for
the argument.34 Meanwhile, the argument becomes plausible if we accept
a conceptual interpretation. Once we interpret the ‘What is piety?’ ques-
tion as a request for an informative synonym, it becomes reasonable for
Socrates to expect the answer to survive substitution (salva veritate).35
Philosophically speaking, in other words, the substitution requirement is

34
If we were to accept the causal interpretation of the ‘What is F?’ question in the
Euthyphro, the substitution requirement would be very poorly placed, presenting a major
problem for the argument. Allow me to illustrate. Suppose, for example, that a causal answer
to the question ‘What is water?’ is that ‘water is H2O’—this provides the chemical make-up
of water, where hydrogen bonding causes its many unique properties. Now suppose Thales
understands the term ‘water’ by grasping the primary intension, a simple statement of mean-
ing. Thus, he thinks of water as ‘the dominant clear drinkable liquid in our environment’.
Finally, suppose Thales believes that the world is made of water. In this case, we cannot infer
that Thales also believes that the world is made of H2O, since these two extensionally equiva-
lent expressions (‘water’ and ‘H2O’) are not mutually substitutable salva veritate. Once
again, the present context happens to be non-extensional. The statement ‘Thales believes the
world is made of H2O’ is concept-sensitive (since it concerns Thales’ beliefs). The truth value
of this statement will therefore depend upon the concept under which Thales is thinking of
water. As we know, however, Thales could not have been thinking of water as H2O. The
chemical make-up of water had not yet been discovered in Thales’ time.
Here’s another example. Suppose now that a causal answer to the question ‘What is the
sound of the middle C?’ happens to be ‘that which oscillates at 260 Hz’. Suppose also that the
gods love the sound of the middle C, because it’s the sound of the middle C. It cannot be
safely inferred from this that the gods love the sound of the middle C because it oscillates at
260 Hz. These extensionally equivalent expressions are not mutually substitutable salva veri-
tate. Once again, the ‘because’ of rational-basis renders the context non-extensional. Thus,
the truth-value of the statement ‘the gods love the sound the sound of the middle C because
it oscillates at 260 Hz’ will depend upon the concept under which the gods are loving that
sound. In fact, even if the gods know the sound of the middle C happens to oscillate at 260
Hz, that cognitive association might not explain why the gods harbor an attitude of love
toward the sound. As Matthew Evans (2012: 17–19) points out, ‘they might love it under
the qualitative concept, and not under the quantitative concept’. This is meant to show that
the causal interpretation does not fit with the context of the Euthyphro.
35
Suppose a conceptual answer to the question ‘What is a clock?’ is that a clock is ‘a device
for measuring time which indicates hours and minutes’ (an informative synonym). Now sup-
pose the gods love the clock on the wall because it is a clock. In this case, it is acceptable to
infer that the gods love the clock on the wall because it is a device for measuring time which
indicates hours and minutes. Intensionally equivalent expressions, in this context, will survive
substitution (salva veritate). For a more detailed defense of this, see Forster (2006), esp.
footnote 69.
34 J. C. CLARK

appropriate in the context of a conceptual investigation. Socrates is looking


for a simple statement of meaning.

2.8  The Other Substitution


Before we get ahead of ourselves, however, let us examine the remainder
of Socrates’ argument in the Euthyphro. Socrates actually performs substi-
tutions on two separate statements:

(a) x is loved by the gods because x is pious


(b) x is god-beloved because x is loved by (all) the gods

I have chosen to focus on (a), since the context in (a) is so clearly non-­
extensional. But something should be said about (b). After all, the
‘because’ in statement (b) cannot be read as the ‘because’ of rational
basis. For this reason, it might appear that Socrates is equivocating on
‘because’. Such equivocation would pose a problem for Socrates’ argu-
ment. Upon closer inspection, however, the equivocation dissolves. For
the ‘because’ in statement (b) is the ‘because’ of conceptual ground. In
other words, the ‘because’ in statement (b) has the force of introducing
logically necessary and sufficient conditions for using the expression, or
applying the concept, or calling something ‘god-beloved’. Thus, state-
ment (b) can be interpreted as follows: ‘a logically necessary and suffi-
cient condition for applying the term “god-beloved” to a thing x is that x
is loved by all the gods’. This statement is true. The term ‘god-beloved’
does apply to a thing x whenever x is loved by all the gods. Notice that
the conditions provided in this statement are informative—the definiens
amounts to an informative synonym. It can be used to instruct someone
in the use of the expression ‘god-beloved’. This is precisely the kind of
answer Socrates is pursuing. However, the substitution in this case fails.
When ‘pious’ is substituted for ‘god-beloved’ we get a different definien-
dum, and the substitution results in the following claim: ‘a logically nec-
essary and sufficient condition for applying the term “pious” to a thing is
that it is loved by all the gods’. This statement is rejected by Socrates and
Euthyphro, thus confirming that ‘god-beloved’ and ‘pious’ are not
2 THE DUAL-FUNCTION THESIS 35

intensionally equivalent (tauton). Substituting ‘pious’ for ‘god-beloved’


changes the truth-value of the sentence. In this way, the conceptual
interpretation can explain the substitution failure in (b).36
On my reading, therefore, statement (a) involves the ‘because’ of ratio-
nal basis, while statement (b) involves a ‘because’ of conceptual ground.
And so, it appears equivocation is a problem for Socrates’ argument.
However, on closer analysis, the equivocation dissolves. Allow me to
explain the dissolution.
As we have seen, the ‘because’ in statement (a) provides the rationale
on the basis of which the gods love something x. Like any rationale, this
rationale will depend on the concept under which the subject (the gods)
are thinking of x. According to statement (a), the gods are thinking of x as
falling under the concept ‘pious’. This is precisely the concept under which
they are loving it.37 But there is more to the story of (a) than meets the
eye. There is an implicit assumption. On this assumption, the gods are
infallible in their ability to identify something as ‘pious’.38 Once the ‘infal-
libility assumption’ is made explicit, the apparent equivocation dissolves.
For such infallibility (on the part of the gods) entails a knowledge of the
primary intension (the logically necessary and sufficient conditions for
applying the concept ‘pious’). In this context, then, the ‘because’ of ratio-
nal basis will imply a grasp of the conceptual ground. Both (a) and (b)
entail conceptual grounding.
This is a welcome result. Socrates accepts the substitution requirement
in the context of both (a) and (b). Once we recognize that both (a) and (b)
involve the conceptual ground, it stands to reason that Socrates is

36
A similar reading is defended by Cohen (1971), with whom I am largely in agreement.
There is perhaps one point of disagreement, however. For I would add to Cohen’s reading
that the definitions being sought are not symmetrical. See n.38.
37
This makes the present context different from the example of the middle C above, since
we are informed as to which concept earns the god’s love.
38
This point is made convincingly by Judson (2010: 41).
36 J. C. CLARK

conducting a conceptual investigation.39 More specifically, by introducing


the requirement of an essence (ousia) in the Euthyphro, Socrates is request-
ing an informative synonym.40
Recall that the investigation in the Meno (70–75) is described in the
same way. In the Meno, M1, Socrates is requesting the essence (ousia) of

39
Most commentators resist reading the ‘because’ in statement (b) in terms of material cau-
sation. Causation requires two temporally distinct facts A and B, one which precedes the other.
Yet the examples Socrates uses to illustrate the force of ‘because’ in statement (b) involve pas-
sive and active voices in such statements as ‘X is in the state of being carried because there is
something carrying X’, etc. These statements are best understood as involving two different
descriptions of a single fact, rather than two temporally distinct facts. Alternatively, we might
read the ‘because’ in statement (b) as a ‘because’ of metaphysical-­explanation. On this view,
Socrates is pursuing the property picked out by ‘pious’, in order to compare it to the property
picked out by ‘god-beloved’. If this were the case, statement (b) would imply that the posses-
sion of the property (god-beloved) by an object is metaphysically grounded in the fact that the
gods are loving it. This interpretation of (b) is acceptable (though it may result in an exten-
sional context). That being said, however, Socrates also expects the answer to survive substitu-
tion in the context of statement (a). And this statement will be difficult for the metaphysical
interpretation to explain. Sharvy (1972) suggests that Socrates is pursuing something like an
Aristotelian formal cause. In doing so, Sharvy abandons the ‘because’ of rational basis in state-
ment (a) supporting a ‘because’ of formal causation instead. On this reading of (a), a thing’s
being ‘pious’ is thought to provide the formal cause of its being loved by the gods. This solves
the problem of equivocation, but produces a relatively unintuitive reading of (a) in comparison
with that of rational basis. Still, Sharvy’s position helps explain the force behind the ‘because’
in (b). I am sympathetic to Sharvy’s explanation. I read ‘because’ similarly, since I contend that
Socrates is pursuing an informative synonym, and this results in an asymmetry. Thus, not only
does the ‘because’ of conceptual ground provide the reason why a thing x actually counts as a
genuine instance of ‘pious’ or ‘god-loved’, but the ‘because’ also provides an analysis of the
definiendum. This is enough to explain the force of ‘because’ in (b). It has roughly the same
force as Sharvy’s reading. Yet Sharvy’s reading of (a) is less than optimal. It is worth noting that
Judson (2010) retains the ‘because’ of rational basis in (a), but abandons substitutivity. I think
it’s clear Socrates is employing a substitution requirement in the argument. Yet I am also struck
by how close some metaphysical-explanation readings come to my own view of the matter.
Judson (2010: 49) and Sharvy (1972: 125) themselves recognize the close relationship
between their metaphysical interpretations and Cohen’s conceptual reading. In the end, there
is not very much space between some versions of the metaphysical interpretation and the con-
ceptual reading advanced here.
40
One additional observation should support the fact that Socrates is raising a conceptual
question here. Eventually, Euthyphro answers (13b5-7) that piety is ‘that which provides a
kind of service to the gods’, though he is unable to identify the result of this ‘service’. When
Euthyphro gives up, Socrates claims that Euthyphro was ‘on the very brink’ of providing a
satisfactory answer (14c1). This attempt fits the profile of an informative synonym best; it
does not have the mechanistic complexity of a causal explanation. See Taylor (1982:
110–113).
2 THE DUAL-FUNCTION THESIS 37

virtue. It is fitting, therefore, that Socrates’ investigation in the Meno cul-


minates in the endorsement of A1—an answer that fits the profile of an
informative synonym, a simple statement of meaning. Upon offering A1,
Socrates tells Meno ‘now you can comprehend from this what I mean by
figure (schēma o legō)’. Thus, the Euthyphro and the Meno speak decisively
in favor of the conceptual interpretation. In asking for the essence of
F-ness, Socrates is pursuing a simple statement of meaning.
Proponents of the causal interpretation tend to minimize the impor-
tance of the Euthyphro and Meno. Penner (1973: 84–5), for example, sug-
gests that the Euthyphro and Meno represent a Platonic shift, ‘a transition
to the demotic virtues’, so that Socrates is no longer investigating virtues
that require knowledge. But Penner’s suggestion has the ring of an ad hoc
conjecture once we observe that these two dialogues do not support his
causal interpretation. At the same time, these passages cannot settle the
entire debate on their own, and commentators on both sides of the debate
have failed to notice that A2, the example favored by Meno, provides
direct support for the causal interpretation. In the next section, therefore,
I wish to establish that the ‘What is F?’ question is sometimes a request for
a causal answer.

2.9   Meno’s Preference for Causal Answers


Let us now turn our attention to the second example A2. This example is
equally instructive for our purposes. A2 states that color is ‘an effluence
from shapes which is commensurate with sight and perceptible’. Although
Socrates is reluctant (in the Meno) to pursue a causal answer of this kind,
Meno finds A2 completely satisfactory (76d). The second example falls
within the framework of a scientific theory—A2 is based on Empedocles’
causal theory of vision, a theory concerning the capacity (dunamis) of
sight. Empedocles taught that material objects give off effluences or films,
which are situated in various ways to our sense organs. It is evident that
Meno’s preferred example is a causal account of color (in much the same
way Locke’s account is). A2 answers a question about how color fits into
the causal network of the world. Socrates never rejects the second exam-
ple. When Meno exclaims that A2 is ‘excellently put!’ Socrates says (quite
simply) that the first example A1 is better (beltiōn), and that Meno would
prefer the first example too, if he would remain long enough to hear about
it. But Meno makes it perfectly clear that he will not wait around (77a),
38 J. C. CLARK

saying ‘I would stay, Socrates, if you would tell me many such answers’.
Meno wants a causal account of virtue. And he wants it now.
In his commentary, Michael Forster (2006: 24) notes correctly that
Socrates goes out of his way to contrast A2 unfavorably with A1. But he
is wrong to assert that Socrates ‘makes fun’ of A2, and equally wrong to
suggest that Socrates is ‘not at all impressed by “high-falutin” answers’ of
this kind. The text does not support Forster’s position on A2. Let us
examine Socrates’ response:

It is a theatrical answer (tragikē) so it pleases you, Meno, more than that


about figure … [I]t is not better (beltiōn), Son of Alexidemus, but I am
convinced that the other [A1] is, and I think you would agree, if you did not
have to go away before the mysteries as you told me yesterday, but could
remain and be initiated. (Meno 76e2-8)

Prior to this, the second example was said to be given ‘in the manner of
Gorgias’.41 It is described as ‘theatrical’ (tragikē).42 This is not a ringing
endorsement. By describing A2 in this way, Socrates is claiming that such
answers are the preference of Sophists, who want to make a showy display
of their sophistication to the public. A causal answer is much more likely
to impress a lay audience than a simple statement of meaning. But despite
any criticisms Socrates might have for the Sophists and their predilection
for lofty answers, Socrates does include the A2-type answer among possi-
ble answers to his ‘What is F?’ question. And a close examination will
reveal that Socrates is far from ‘making fun’ of the causal answer in A2.

I shall certainly not be lacking in eagerness (prothumias) to tell you such


things, both for your sake and my own (kai sou eneka kai emautou), but I
may not be able to tell you many. (Meno 77a)

Socrates proclaims his eagerness (prothumias) to give causal answers, both


for Meno’s sake and for his own sake (eneka kai emautou). This response
41
Since Meno was a pupil of Gorgias, Socrates assumes that answering in the manner of
Gorgias will be more familiar, and therefore more agreeable, to his interlocutor. Incidentally,
Gorgias had also learnt his science from Empedocles.
42
In this context, tragike ̄ likely means something like ‘theatrical’ or ‘high-flown’, referring
us to Meno’s predilection for the fancy, ornamental, or lofty definition. This appears to mark
a criticism of the sophistical intention to impress an audience by means of one’s definition,
rather than a direct criticism of A2 itself. This type of definition may still have some value
when used in the right way.
2 THE DUAL-FUNCTION THESIS 39

is significant. Surely, Socrates would not be eager to give such answers,


unless he saw considerable value in giving them. And so, Socrates does
value causal answers to the ‘What is F?’ question. Socrates simply does not
consider himself equipped to give such answers. On the contrary, he says
that he will not be able to give very many answers of this kind.
Along these lines, Forster (2006: 25) claims that Socrates never attempts
to provide a causal explanation of virtue in the early dialogues. It is not
until the virtues are defined in terms of the tripartite model of the psychē
in the Republic (428 a-444b) that Plato finally puts a causal account of
virtue into Socrates’ mouth. But this is incorrect. In the Protagoras,
Socrates pursues a causal account of virtue when he provides a description
of virtue as ‘the craft (technē) of measuring goods and bads, which renders
the power of appearance ineffective, and allows the soul to remain in
truth’. There can be no doubt that this goes beyond a mere statement of
meaning. It is a causal account of virtue (in the manner of A2) if there
ever was one. This account offers a psychological explanation of the
‘motive-force’ that causes an agent to act virtuously. And so, not only does
Socrates value causal answers, he attempts to construct one of his own in
the Protagoras. In order to understand Meno’s preference for an A2-type
answer, therefore, it will be useful to examine Socrates’ investigation in the
Protagoras. As we shall see, the Protagoras proves especially instructive in
this regard.

2.10  The Causal Investigation


The original question posed by Socrates in the Protagoras is whether or
not virtue is the sort of thing that can be taught, or how it can be acquired.
This is the acquisition-question. In the Protagoras, the acquisition-­
question generates a discussion about how the individual virtues are
related. Currently, my aim is to establish the acquisition question as an
indicator of the causal investigation. Let us focus, therefore, on the techni-
cal vocabulary used by Socrates during the investigation of Protagoras.
When Protagoras claims that the virtues are parts of a single whole (329
d3-6), it prompts a follow-up question from Socrates:

Does each of [the virtues] also have its own specific capacity (dunamis)?
With the parts of a face, for example, the eye is not like the ears, nor is its
capacity (dunamis) the same. And with the other parts, none is like any
other, either in its capacity or in any other way. Is that how it is with the
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
a water-closet; by some horrid drain; by proximity to a pig-sty; by an
overflowing privy, especially if vegetable matter be rotting at the
same time in it; by bad ventilation, or by contagion. Diphtheria may
generally be traced either to the one or to the other of the above
causes; therefore let me urgently entreat you to look well into all
these matters, and thus to stay the pestilence! Diphtheria might long
remain in a neighborhood if active measures be not used to
exterminate it.
210. Have the goodness to describe the symptoms of Measles?
Measles commences with symptoms of a common cold; the patient
is at first chilly, then hot and feverish; he has a running at the nose,
sneezing, watering and redness of the eyes, headache, drowsiness, a
hoarse and peculiar ringing cough, which nurses call “measle-
cough,” and difficulty of breathing. These symptoms usually last
three days before the eruption appears; on the fourth it (the
eruption) generally makes its appearance, and continues for four
days and then disappears, lasting altogether, from the
commencement of the symptoms of cold to the decline of the
eruption, seven days. It is important to bear in mind that the
eruption consists of crescent-shaped—half-moon-shaped—patches;
that they usually appear first about the face and the neck, in which
places they are the best marked; then on the body and on the arms;
and, lastly, on the legs, and that they are slightly raised above the
surface of the skin. The face is swollen, more especially the eyelids,
which are sometimes for a few days closed.
Well, then, remember, the running at the nose, the sneezing, the
peculiar hoarse cough, and the half-moon-shaped patches, are the
leading features of the disease, and point out for a certainty that it is
measles.
211. What constitutes the principal danger in Measles?
The affection of the chest. The mucous or lining membrane of the
bronchial tubes is always more or less inflamed, and the lungs
themselves are sometimes affected.
212. Do you recommend “surfeit water” and saffron tea to throw
out the eruption in Measles?
Certainly not. The only way to throw out the eruption, as it is
called, is to keep the body comfortably warm, and to give the
beverages ordered by the medical man, with the chill off. “Surfeit
water,” saffron tea, and remedies of that class, are hot and
stimulating. The only effect they can have, will be to increase the
fever and the inflammation—to add fuel to the fire.
213. What is the treatment of Measles?
What to do.—The child ought to be confined both to his room and
to his bed, the room being kept comfortably warm; therefore, if it be
winter time, there should be a small fire in the grate; in the summer
time, a fire would be improper. The child must not be exposed to
draughts; notwithstanding, from time to time, the door ought to be
left a little ajar in order to change the air of the apartment; for proper
ventilation, let the disease be what it may, is absolutely necessary.
Let the child, for the first few days, be kept on a low diet, such as
on milk and water, arrow-root, bread and butter, etc.
If the attack be mild, that is to say, if the breathing be not much
affected (for in measles it always is more or less affected), and if
there be not much wheezing, the acidulated infusion of roses’
mixture[228] will be all that is necessary.
But suppose that the breathing is short, and that there is a great
wheezing, then, instead of giving him the mixture just advised, give
him a teaspoonful of a mixture composed of ipecacuanha wine,
syrup, and water,[229] every four hours. And if, on the following day,
the breathing and the wheezing be not relieved, in addition to the
ipecacuanha mixture, apply a tela vesicatoria, as advised under the
head of inflammation of the lungs.
When the child is convalescing, batter puddings, rice, and sago
puddings, in addition to the milk, bread and butter, etc., should be
given; and, a few days later, chicken, mutton-chops, etc.
The child ought not, even in a mild case of measles, and in
favorable weather, to be allowed to leave the house under a fortnight,
or it might bring on an attack of bronchitis.
What NOT to do.—Do not give either “surfeit water” or wine. Do not
apply leeches to the chest. Do not expose the child to the cold air. Do
not keep the bedroom very hot, but comfortably warm. Do not let the
child leave the house, even under favorable circumstances, under a
fortnight. Do not, while the eruption is out, give aperients. Do not,
“to ease the cough,” administer either emetic tartar or paregoric—the
former drug is awfully depressing; the latter will stop the cough, and
will thus prevent the expulsion of the phlegm.
214. What is the difference between Scarlatina and Scarlet Fever?
They are, indeed, one and the same disease, scarlatina being the
Latin for scarlet fever. But, in a popular sense, when the disease is
mild, it is usually called scarlatina. The latter term does not sound so
formidable to the ears either of patients or of parents.
215. Will you describe the symptoms of Scarlet Fever?
The patient is generally chilly, languid, drowsy, feverish, and
poorly for two days before the eruption appears. At the end of the
second day, the characteristic, bright scarlet efflorescence, somewhat
similar to the color of a boiled lobster, usually first shows itself. The
scarlet appearance is not confined to the skin; but the tongue, the
throat, and the whites of the eyes put on the same appearance; with
this only difference, that on the tongue and on the throat the scarlet
is much darker; and, as Dr. Elliotson accurately describes it,—“the
tongue looks as if it had been slightly sprinkled with Cayenne
pepper.” The eruption usually declines on the fifth, and is generally
indistinct on the sixth day; on the seventh it has completely faded
away. There is usually, after the first few days, great itching on the
surface of the body. The skin, at the end of the week, begins to peel
and to dust off, making it look as though meal had been sprinkled
upon it.
There are three forms of scarlet fever,—the one where the throat is
little, if at all affected, and this is a mild form of the disease; the
second, which is generally, especially at night, attended with
delirium, where the throat is much affected, being often greatly
inflamed and ulcerated; and the third (which is, except in certain
unhealthy districts, comparatively rare, and which is VERY
dangerous), the malignant form.
216. Would it be well to give a little cooling, opening physic as
soon as a child begins to sicken for Scarlet Fever?
On no account whatever. Aperient medicines are, in my opinion,
highly improper and dangerous both before and during the period of
the eruption. It is my firm conviction that the administration of
opening medicine, at such times, is one of the principal causes of
scarlet fever being so frequently fatal. This is, of course, more
applicable to the poor, and to those who are unable to procure a
skillful medical man.
217. What constitutes the principal danger in Scarlet Fever?
The affection of the throat, the administration of opening medicine
during the first ten days, and a peculiar disease of the kidneys ending
in anasarca (dropsy), on which account, the medical man ought,
when practicable, to be sent for at the onset, that no time may be lost
in applying proper remedies.
218. How would you distinguish between Scarlet Fever and
Measles?
Measles commences with symptoms of a common cold; scarlet
fever does not. Measles has a peculiar hoarse cough; scarlet fever has
not. The eruption of measles is in patches of a half-moon shape, and
is slightly raised above the skin; the eruption of scarlet fever is not
raised above the skin at all, and is one continued mass. The color of
the eruption is much more vivid in scarlet fever than in measles. The
chest is the part principally affected in measles, and the throat in
scarlet fever.
There is an excellent method of determining, for a certainty,
whether the eruption be that of scarlatina or otherwise. I myself
have, in several instances, ascertained the truth of it: “For several
years M. Bouchut has remarked in the eruption of scarlatina a
curious phenomenon, which serves to distinguish this eruption from
that of measles, erythema, erysipelas, etc., a phenomenon essentially
vital, and which is connected with the excessive contractability of the
capillaries. The phenomenon in question is a white line, which can
be produced at pleasure by drawing the back of the nail along the
skin where the eruption is situated. On drawing the nail, or the
extremity of a hard body (such as a pen-holder), along the eruption,
the skin is observed to grow pale, and to present a white trace, which
remains for one or two minutes, or longer, and then disappears. In
this way the diagnosis of the disease may be very distinctly written
on the skin; the word ‘Scarlatina’ disappears as the eruption regains
its uniform tint.”[230]
219. Is it of so much importance, then, to distinguish between
Scarlet Fever and Measles?
It is of great importance, as in measles the patient ought to be kept
moderately warm, and the drinks should be given with the chill off;
while in scarlet fever the patient ought to be kept cool—indeed, for
the first few days, cold; and the beverages, such as spring water, toast
and water, etc., should be administered quite cold.
220. What is the treatment of Scarlet Fever?[231]
What to do.—Pray pay particular attention to my rules, and carry
out my directions to the very letter—as I can then promise you that if
the scarlet fever be not malignant, the plan I am about to
recommend will, with God’s blessing, be generally successful.
What is the first thing to be done? Send the child to bed; throw
open the windows, be it winter or summer, and have a thorough
ventilation; for the bedroom must be kept cool, I may say cold. Do
not be afraid of fresh air, for fresh air, for the first few days, is
essential to recovery. Fresh air, and plenty of it, in scarlet fever, is
the best doctor a child can have: let these words be written legibly on
your mind.[232]
Take down the curtains of the bed; remove the valances. If it be
summer time, let the child be only covered with a sheet: if it be
winter time, in addition to the sheet, he should have one blanket over
him.
Now for the throat.—The best external application is a barm and
oatmeal poultice. How ought it to be made, and how applied? Put
half a teacupful of barm into a saucepan, put it on the fire to boil; as
soon as it boils take it off the fire, and stir oatmeal into it, until it is of
the consistence of a nice soft poultice; then place it on a rag, and
apply it to the throat; carefully fasten it on with bandage, two or
three turns of the bandage going round the throat, and two or three
over the crown of the head, so as nicely to apply the poultice where it
is wanted—that is to say, to cover the tonsils. Tack the bandage: do
not pin it. Let the poultice be changed three times a day. The best
medicine is the acidulated infusion of roses, sweetened with syrup.
[233]
It is grateful and refreshing, it is pleasant to take, it abates fever
and thirst, it cleans the throat and tongue of mucus, and is peculiarly
efficacious in scarlet fever; as soon as the fever is abated it gives an
appetite. My belief is that the sulphuric acid in the mixture is a
specific in scarlet fever, as much as quinine is in ague, and sulphur in
itch. I have reason to say so, for, in numerous cases, I have seen its
immense value.
Now, with regard to food.—If the child be at the breast, keep him
entirely to it. If he be weaned, and under two years old, give him milk
and water, and cold water to drink. If he be older, give him toast and
water, and plain water from the pump, as much as he chooses; let it
be quite cold—the colder the better. Weak black tea, or thin gruel,
may be given, but not caring, unless he be an infant at the breast, if
he take nothing but cold water. If the child be two years old and
upwards, roasted apples with sugar, and grapes will be very
refreshing, and will tend to cleanse both the mouth and the throat.
Avoid broths and stimulants of every kind.
When the appetite returns, you may consider the patient to be
safe. The diet ought now to be gradually improved. Bread and butter,
milk and water, and arrow-root made with equal parts of new milk
and water, should for the first two or three days be given. Then a
light batter or rice pudding may be added, and in a few days
afterward, either a little chicken or a mutton-chop.
The essential remedies, then, in scarlet fever, are, for the first few
days—(1) plenty of fresh air and ventilation, (2) plenty of cold water
to drink, (3) barm poultices to the throat, and (4) the acidulated
infusion of roses’ mixture as a medicine.
Now, then, comes very important advice. After the first few days,
probably five or six, sometimes as early as the fourth day, watch
carefully and warily, and note the time, the skin will suddenly
become cool, the child will say that he feels chilly; then is the time
you must now change your tactics—instantly close the windows, and
put extra clothing, a blanket or two, on his bed. A flannel night-gown
should, until the dead skin has peeled off, be now worn next to the
skin, when the flannel night-gown should be discontinued. The
patient ought ever after to wear, in the daytime, a flannel waistcoat.
[234]
His drinks must now be given with the chill off; he ought to have
a warm cup of tea, and gradually his diet should, as I have previously
recommended be improved.
There is one important caution I wish to impress upon you,—do
not give opening medicine during the time the eruption is out. In all
probability the bowels will be opened: if so, all well and good; but do
not, on any account, for the first ten days, use artificial means to
open them. It is my firm conviction that the administration of
purgatives in scarlet fever is a fruitful source of dropsy, of disease,
and death. When we take into consideration the sympathy there is
between the skin and the mucous membrane, I think that we should
pause before giving irritating medicines, such as purgatives. The
irritation of aperients on the mucous membrane may cause the
poison of the skin disease (for scarlet fever is a blood poison) to be
driven internally to the kidneys, to the throat, to the pericardium
(bag of the heart), or to the brain. You may say, Do you not purge if
the bowels be not open for a week? I say emphatically, No!
I consider my great success in the treatment of scarlet fever to be
partly owing to my avoidance of aperients during the first ten days of
the child’s illness.
If the bowels, after the ten days, are not properly opened, a dose or
two of the following mixture should be given:
Take of—Simple Syrup, three drachms;
Essence of Senna, nine drachms:

To make a Mixture. Two teaspoonfuls to be given early in the morning


occasionally, and to be repeated in four hours, if the first dose should not
operate.
In a subsequent Conversation, I shall strongly urge you not to
allow your child, when convalescent, to leave the house under at least
a month from the commencement of the illness; I therefore beg to
refer you to that Conversation, and hope that you will give it your
best and earnest consideration! During the last seventeen years I
have never had dropsy from scarlet fever, and I attribute it entirely to
the plan I have just recommended, and in not allowing my patients
to leave the house under the month—until, in fact, the skin that has
peeled off has been renewed.
Let us now sum up the plan I adopt:
1. Thorough ventilation, a cool room, and scant clothes on the bed,
for the first five or six days.
2. A change of temperature of the skin to be carefully regarded. As
soon as the skin is cool, closing the windows, and putting additional
clothing on the bed.
3. The acidulated infusion of roses with syrup is the medicine for
scarlet fever.
4. Purgatives to be religiously avoided for the first ten days at least,
and even afterward, unless there be absolute necessity.
5. Leeches, blisters, emetics, cold and tepid spongings, and
painting the tonsils with caustic, inadmissible in scarlet fever.
6. A strict antiphlogistic (low) diet for the first few days, during
which time cold water to be given ad libitum.
7. The patient not to leave the house in the summer under the
month; in the winter, under six weeks.
What NOT to do.—Do not, then, apply either leeches or blisters to
the throat; do not paint the tonsils with caustic; do not give
aperients; do not, on any account, give either calomel or emetic
tartar; do not, for the first few days of the illness, be afraid of cold air
to the skin, and of cold water as a beverage; do not, emphatically let
me say, do not let the child leave the house for at least a month from
the commencement of the illness.
My firm conviction is, that purgatives, emetics, and blisters, by
depressing the patient, sometimes cause ordinary scarlet fever to
degenerate into malignant scarlet fever.
I am aware that some of our first authorities advocate a different
plan to mine. They recommend purgatives, which I may say, in
scarlet fever, are my dread and abhorrence. They advise cold and
tepid spongings—a plan which I think dangerous, as it will probably
drive the disease internally. Blisters, too, have been prescribed; these
I consider weakening, injurious, and barbarous, and likely still more
to inflame the already inflamed skin. They recommend leeches to the
throat, which I am convinced, by depressing the patient, will lessen
the chance of his battling against the disease, and will increase the
ulceration of the tonsils. Again, the patient has not too much blood;
the blood is only poisoned. I look upon scarlet fever as a specific
poison of the blood, and one which will be eliminated from the
system, not by bleeding, not by purgatives, not by emetics, but by a
constant supply of fresh and cool air, by the acid treatment, by cold
water as a beverage, and for the first few days by a strict
antiphlogistic (low) diet.
Sydenham says that scarlet fever is oftentimes “fatal through the
officiousness of the doctor.” I conscientiously believe that a truer
remark was never made; and that under a different system to the
usual one adopted, scarlet fever would not be so much dreaded.[235]
221. How soon ought a child to be allowed to leave the house after
an attack of Scarlet Fever?
He must not be allowed to go out for at least a month from the
commencement of the attack, in the summer, and six weeks in the
winter; and not even then with out the express permission of a
medical man. It might be said that this is an unreasonable
recommendation but when it is considered that the whole of the skin
generally desquamates, or peels off, and consequently leaves the
surface of the body exposed to cold, which cold flies to the kidneys,
producing a peculiar and serious disease in them, ending in dropsy,
this warning will not be deemed unreasonable.
Scarlet fever dropsy, which is really a formidable disease,
generally arises from the carelessness, the ignorance, and the
thoughtlessness of parents in allowing a child to leave the house
before the new skin is properly formed and hardened. Prevention is
always better than cure.
Thus far with regard to the danger to the child himself. Now, if you
please, let me show you the risk of contagion that you inflict upon
families, in allowing your child to mix with others before a month at
least has elapsed. Bear in mind, a case is quite as contagious, if not
more so, while the skin is peeling off, as it was before. Thus, in ten
days or a fortnight, there is as much risk of contagion as at the
beginning of the disease, and when the fever is at its height. At the
conclusion of the month the old skin has generally all peeled off, and
the new skin has taken its place; consequently there will then be less
fear of contagion to others. But the contagion of scarlet fever is so
subtle and so uncertain in its duration, that it is impossible to fix the
exact time when it ceases.
Let me most earnestly implore you to ponder well on the above
important facts. If these remarks should be the means of saving only
one child from death, or from broken health, my labor will not have
been in vain.
222. What means do you advise to purify a house from the
contagion of Scarlet Fever?
Let every room be lime-washed and then be white washed;[236] if
the contagion has been virulent, let every bedroom be freshly
papered (the walls having been previously stripped of the old paper
and then lime-washed); let the bed, the bolsters, the pillows, and the
mattresses be cleansed and purified; let the blankets and coverlids be
thoroughly washed, and then let them be exposed to the open air—if
taken into a field so much the better; let the rooms be well scoured;
let the windows, top and bottom, be thrown wide open; let the drains
be carefully examined; let the pump-water be scrutinized, to see that
it be not contaminated by fecal matter, either from the water-closet
or from the privy; let privies be emptied of their contents—
remember this is most important advice—then put into the empty
places lime and powdered charcoal, for it is a well-ascertained fact
that it is frequently impossible to rid a house of the infection of
scarlet fever without adopting such a course. “In St. George’s,
Southwark, the medical officer reports that scarlatina ‘has raged
fatally, almost exclusively where privy or drain smells are to be
perceived in the houses.’”[237] Let the children who have not had, or
who do not appear to be sickening for scarlet fever, be sent away
from home—if to a farm-house so much the better. Indeed, leave no
stone unturned, no means untried, to exterminate the disease from
the house and from the neighborhood.
223. Will you describe the symptoms of Chicken-pox?
It is occasionally, but not always, ushered in with a slight shivering
fit; the eruption shows itself in about twenty-four hours from the
child first appearing poorly. It is a vesicular[238] disease. The eruption
comes out in the form of small pimples, and principally attacks the
scalp, the neck, the back, the chest, and the shoulders, but rarely the
face; while in small-pox the face is generally the part most affected.
The next day these pimples fill with water, and thus become vesicles;
on the third day they are at maturity. The vesicles are quite separate
and distinct from each other. There is a slight redness around each of
them. Fresh ones, while the others are dying away, make their
appearance. Chicken-pox is usually attended with a slight itching of
the skin; when the vesicles are scratched the fluid escapes, and leaves
hard pearl-like substances, which, in a few days, disappear. Chicken-
pox never leaves pit-marks behind. It is a child’s complaint; adults
scarcely, if ever, have it.
224. Is there any danger in Chicken-pox; and what treatment do
you advise?
It is not at all a dangerous, but, on the contrary, a trivial
complaint. It lasts only a few days, and requires but little medicine.
The patient ought, for three or four days, to keep the house, and
should abstain from animal food. On the sixth day, but not until
then, a dose or two of a mild aperient is all that will be required.
225. Is Chicken-pox infectious?
There is a diversity of opinion on this head, but one thing is certain
—it cannot be communicated by inoculation.
226. What are the symptoms of Modified Small-pox?
The modified small-pox—that is to say, small-pox that has been
robbed of its virulence by the patient having been either already
vaccinated, or by his having had a previous attack of small-pox—is
ushered in with severe symptoms, with symptoms almost as severe
as though the patient had not been already somewhat protected
either by vaccination or by the previous attack of small-pox—that is
to say, he has a shivering fit, great depression of spirits and debility,
malaise, sickness, headache, and occasionally delirium. After the
above symptoms have lasted about three days, the eruption shows
itself. The immense value of the previous vaccination, or the previous
attack of small-pox, now comes into play. In a case of unprotected
small-pox, the appearance of the eruption aggravates all the above
symptoms, and the danger begins; while in the modified small-pox,
the moment the eruption shows itself, the patient feels better, and, as
a rule, rapidly recovers. The eruption of modified small-pox varies
materially from the eruption of the unprotected small-pox. The
former eruption assumes a varied character, and is composed, first of
vesicles (containing water), and secondly of pustules (containing
matter), each of which pustules has a depression in the center, and
thirdly of several red pimples without either water or matter in them,
and which sometimes assume a livid appearance. These “breakings-
out” generally show themselves more upon the wrist, and sometimes
up one or both of the nostrils. While in the latter disease—the
unprotected small-pox—the “breaking-out” is composed entirely of
pustules containing matter, and which pustules are more on the face
than on any other part of the body. There is generally a peculiar
smell in both diseases—an odor once smelt never to be forgotten.
Now, there is one most important remark I have to make,—the
modified small-pox is contagious. This ought to be borne in mind, as
a person laboring under the disease must, if there be children in the
house, either be sent away himself, or else the children ought to be
banished both the house and the neighborhood. Another important
piece of advice is, let all in the house—children and adults, one and
all—be vaccinated, even if any or all have been previously vaccinated.
Treatment.—Let the patient keep his room, and if he be very ill, his
bed. Let the chamber be well ventilated. If it be winter time, a small
fire in the grate will encourage ventilation. If it be summer, a fire is
out of the question; indeed, in such a case, the window-sash ought to
be opened, as thorough ventilation is an important requisite of cure,
both in small-pox and in modified small-pox. While the eruption is
out, do not on any account give aperient medicine. In ten days from
the commencement of the illness a mild aperient may be given. The
best medicine in these cases is, the sweetened acidulated infusion of
roses,[239] which ought to be given from the commencement of the
disease, and should be continued until the fever be abated. For the
first few days, as long as the fever lasts, the patient ought not to be
allowed either meat or broth, but should be kept on a low diet, such
as on gruel, arrow-root, milk puddings, etc. As soon as the fever is
abated he ought gradually to resume his usual diet. When he is
convalescent, it is well, where practicable, that he should have
change of air for a month.
227. How would you distinguish between Modified Small-pox and
Chicken-pox?
Modified small-pox may readily be distinguished from chicken-
pox, by the former disease being, notwithstanding its modification,
much more severe and the fever much more intense before the
eruption shows itself than chicken-pox; indeed, in chicken-pox there
is little or no fever either before or after the eruption; by the former
disease, the modified small-pox, consisting partly of pustules
(containing matter), each pustule having a depression in the center,
and the favorite localities of the pustules being the wrists and the
inside of the nostrils: while, in the chicken-pox, the eruption consists
of vesicles (containing water), and not pustules (containing matter),
and the vesicles having neither a depression in the center, nor having
any particular partiality to attack either the wrists or the wings of the
nose. In modified small-pox each pustule is, as in unprotected small-
pox, inflamed at the base; while in chicken-pox there is only very
slight redness around each vesicle. The vesicles, too, in chicken-pox
are small—much smaller than the pustules are in modified small-
pox.
228. Is Hooping-cough an inflammatory disease?
Hooping-cough in itself is not inflammatory, it is purely
spasmodic; but it is generally accompanied with more or less of
bronchitis—inflammation of the mucous membrane of the bronchial
tubes—on which account it is necessary, in all cases of hooping-
cough, to consult a medical man, that he may watch the progress of
the disease and nip inflammation in the bud.
229. Will you have the goodness to give the symptoms, and a brief
history, of Hooping-cough?
Hooping-cough is emphatically a disease of the young; it is rare for
adults to have it; if they do, they usually suffer more severely than
children. A child seldom has it but once in his life. It is highly
contagious, and therefore frequently runs through a whole family of
children, giving much annoyance, anxiety, and trouble to the mother
and the nurses; hence hooping-cough is much dreaded by them. It is
amenable to treatment. Spring and summer are the best seasons of
the year for the disease to occur. This complaint usually lasts from
six to twelve weeks—sometimes for a much longer period, more
especially if proper means are not employed to relieve it.
Hooping-cough commences as a common cold and cough. The
cough, for ten days or a fortnight, increases in intensity; at about
which time it puts on the characteristic “hoop.” The attack of cough
comes on in paroxysms.
In a paroxysm the child coughs so long and so violently, and
expires so much air from the lungs without inspiring any, that at
times he appears nearly suffocated and exhausted; the veins of his
neck swell; his face is nearly purple; his eyes, with the tremendous
exertion, seem almost to start from their sockets; at length there is a
sudden inspiration of air through the contracted chink of the upper
part of the windpipe—the glottis—causing the peculiar “hoop; and,
after a little more coughing, he brings up some glairy mucus from the
chest; and sometimes, by vomiting, food from the stomach; he is at
once relieved until the next paroxysm occurs, when the same process
is repeated, the child during the intervals, in a favorable case,
appearing quite well, and after the cough is over, instantly returning
either to his play or to his food. Generally, after a paroxysm he is
hungry, unless, indeed, there be severe inflammation either of the
chest or of the lungs. Sickness, as I before remarked, frequently
accompanies hooping-cough; when it does, it might be looked upon
as a good sign. The child usually knows when an attack is coming on;
he dreads it, and therefore tries to prevent it; he sometimes partially
succeeds; but if he does, it only makes the attack, when it does come,
more severe. All causes of irritation and excitement ought, as much
as possible, to be avoided, as passion is apt to bring on a severe
paroxysm.
A new-born babe, an infant of one or two months old, commonly
escapes the infection; but if at that tender age he unfortunately catch
hooping-cough, it is likely to fare harder with him than if he were
older—the younger the child the greater the risk. But still, in such a
case, do not despair, as I have known numerous instances of new-
born infants, with judicious care, recover perfectly from the attack,
and thrive after it as though nothing of the kind had ever happened.
A new-born babe laboring under hooping-cough is liable to
convulsions, which is, in this disease, one, indeed the great, source of
danger. A child, too, who is teething, and laboring under the disease,
is also liable to convulsions. When the patient is convalescing, care
ought to be taken that he does not catch cold, or the “hoop” might
return. Hooping-cough may either precede, attend, or follow an
attack of measles.
230. What is the treatment of Hooping-cough?
We will divide the hooping-cough into three stages, and treat each
stage separately.
What to do.—In the first stage, the commencement of hooping-
cough: For the first ten days give the ipecacuanha wine mixture,[240] a
teaspoonful three times a day. If the child be not weaned, keep him
entirely to the breast; if he be weaned, to a milk and farinaceous diet.
Confine him for the first ten days to the house, more especially if the
hooping-cough be attended, as it usually is, with more or less of
bronchitis. But take care that the rooms be well ventilated, for good
air is essential to the cure. If the bronchitis attending the hooping-
cough be severe, confine him to his bed, and treat him as though it
were simply a case of bronchitis.[241]
In the second stage, discontinue the ipecacuanha mixture, and
give Dr. Gibb’s remedy—namely, nitric acid—which I have found to
be an efficacious and valuable one in hooping-cough:
Take of—Diluted Nitric Acid, two drachms;
Compound Tincture of Cardamoms, half a drachm;
Simple Syrup, three ounces;
Water, two ounces and a half:

Make a Mixture. One or two teaspoonfuls, or a tablespoonful, according to the


age of the child—one teaspoonful for an infant of six months, and two
teaspoonfuls for a child of twelve months, and one tablespoonful for a child of
two years, every four hours, first shaking the bottle.
Let the spine and the chest be well rubbed every night and
morning either with Roche’s Embrocation, or with the following
stimulating liniment (first shaking the bottle):
Take of—Oil of Cloves, one drachm;
Oil of Amber, two drachms;
Camphorated Oil, nine drachms:

Make a Liniment.
Let him wear a broad band of new flannel, which should extend
round from his chest to his back, and which ought to be changed
every night and morning, in order that it may be dried before putting
on again. To keep it in its place it should be fastened by means of
tapes and with shoulder-straps.
The diet ought now to be improved—he should gradually return to
his usual food; and, weather permitting, should almost live in the
open air—fresh air being, in such a case, one of the finest medicines.
In the third stage, that is to say, when the complaint has lasted a
month, if by that time the child is not well, there is nothing like
change of air to a high, dry, healthy, country place. Continue the
nitric acid mixture, and either the embrocation or the liniment to the
back and the chest, and let him continue to almost live in the open
air, and be sure that he does not discontinue wearing the flannel
until he be quite cured, and then let it be left off by degrees.
If the hooping-cough have caused debility, give him cod-liver oil, a
teaspoonful twice or three times a day, giving it him on a full
stomach after his meals.
But, remember, after the first three or four weeks, change of air,
and plenty of it, is for hooping-cough the grand remedy.
What NOT to do.—Do not apply leeches to the chest, for I would
rather put blood into a child laboring under hooping-cough than take
it out of him—hooping-cough is quite weakening enough to the
system of itself without robbing him of his life’s blood; do not, on any
account whatever, administer either emetic tartar or antimonial
wine; do not give either paregoric or syrup of white poppies; do not
drug him either with calomel or with gray powder; do not dose him
with quack medicine; do not give him stimulants, but rather give him
plenty of nourishment, such as milk and farinaceous food, but no
stimulants; do not be afraid, after the first week or two, of his having
fresh air, and plenty of it—for fresh, pure air is the grand remedy,
after all that can be said and done, in hooping-cough. Although
occasionally we find that if the child be laboring under hooping-
cough and is breathing a pure country air, and is not getting well so
rapidly as we could wish, change of air to a smoky, gas-laden town
will sometimes quickly effect a cure; indeed, some persons go so far
as to say that the best remedy for an obstinate case of hooping-cough
is for the child to live the great part of every day in gas-works!
231. What is to be done during a paroxysm of Hooping-cough?
If the child be old enough, let him stand up; but if he be either too
young or too feeble, raise his head, and bend his body a little
forward; then support his back with one hand, and the forehead with
the other. Let the mucus, the moment it is within reach, be wiped
with a soft handkerchief out of his mouth.
232. In an obstinate case of Hooping-cough, what is the best
remedy?
Change of air, provided there be no active inflammation, to any
healthy spot. A farm-house, in a high, dry, and salubrious
neighborhood, is as good a place as can be chosen. If, in a short time,
he be not quite well, take him to the sea-side: the sea breezes will
often, as if by magic, drive away the disease.
233. Suppose my child should have a shivering fit, is it to be
looked upon as an important symptom?
Certainly. Nearly all serious illnesses commence with a shivering
fit: severe colds, influenza, inflammations of different organs, scarlet
fever, measles, small-pox, and very many other diseases, begin in
this way. If, therefore, your child should ever have a shivering fit,
instantly send for a medical man, as delay might be dangerous. A few
hours of judicious treatment, at the commencement of an illness, is
frequently of more avail than days and weeks, nay months, of
treatment, when disease has gained a firm footing. A serious disease
often steals on insidiously, and we have, perhaps, only the shivering
fit, which might be but a slight one, to tell us of its approach.
A trifling ailment, too, by neglecting the premonitory symptom,
which, at first, might only be indicated by a slight shivering fit, will
sometimes become a mortal disorder:
“The little rift within the lute,
That by-and-by will make the music mute,
And ever widening slowly silence all.”[242]

234. In case of a shivering fit, perhaps you will tell me what to


do?
Instantly have the bed warmed, and put the child to bed. Apply
either a hot bottle or a hot brick, wrapped in flannel, to the soles of
his feet. Put an extra blanket on his bed, and give him a hot cup of
tea.
As soon as the shivering fit is over, and he has become hot,
gradually lessen the extra quantity of clothes on his bed, and take
away the hot bottle or the hot brick from his feet.
What NOT to do.—Do not give either brandy or wine, as
inflammation of some organ might be about taking place. Do not
administer opening medicine, as there might be some “breaking-out”
coming out on the skin, and an aperient might check it.
235. My child, apparently otherwise healthy, screams out in the
night violently in his sleep, and nothing for a time will pacify him:
what is likely to be the cause, and what is the treatment?
The causes of these violent screamings in the night are various. At
one time, they proceed from teething; at another, from worms;
sometimes, from night-mare; occasionally, from either disordered
stomach or bowels.
Each of the above causes will, of course, require a different plan of
procedure; it will, therefore, be necessary to consult a medical man
on the subject, who will soon, with appropriate treatment, be able to
relieve him.
236. Have the goodness to describe the complaint of children
called Mumps.
The mumps, inflammation of the “parotid” gland, is commonly
ushered in with a slight feverish attack. After a short time, a swelling,
of stony hardness, is noticed before and under the ear, which
swelling extends along the neck toward the chin. This lump is
exceedingly painful, and continues painful and swollen for four or
five days. At the end of which time it gradually disappears, leaving
not a trace behind. The swelling of mumps never gathers. It may
affect one or both sides of the face. It seldom occurs but once in a
lifetime. It is contagious, and has been known to run through a whole
family or school; but it is not dangerous, unless, which is rarely the
case, it leaves the “parotid” gland, and migrates either to the head, to
the breast, or to the testicle.
237. What is the treatment of Mumps?
Foment the swelling, four or five times a day, with a flannel wrung
out of hot chamomile and poppy-head decoction;[243] and apply,
every night, a barm and oatmeal poultice to the swollen gland or
glands. Debar, for a few days, the little patient from taking meat and
broth, and let him live on bread and milk, light puddings, and arrow-
root. Keep him in a well-ventilated room, and shut him out from the
company of his brothers, his sisters, and young companions. Give
him a little mild, aperient medicine. Of course, if there be the
slightest symptom of migration to any other part or parts, instantly
call in a medical man.
238. What is the treatment of a Boil?
One of the best applications is a Burgundy pitch plaster spread on
a soft piece of wash-leather. Let a chemist spread a plaster, about the
size of the hand; and, from this piece, cut small plasters, the size of a
shilling or a florin (according to the dimensions of the boil), which
snip around and apply to the part. Put a fresh one on daily. This
plaster will soon cause the boil to break; when it does break, squeeze
out the contents, the core, and the matter, and then apply one of the
plasters as before, which, until the boil be well, renew every day.
The old-fashioned remedy for a boil—namely, common yellow
soap and brown sugar, is a capital one for the purposes; it should be
made into a paste, and spread on a piece of coarse linen, the size
either of a shilling or of a florin (according to the size of the boil); it
eases the pain and causes the boil soon to break, and draws it when it
is broken; it should be renewed daily.
If the boils should arise from the child being in a delicate state of
health, give him cod-liver oil, meat once a day, and an abundance of
milk and farinaceous food. Let him have plenty of fresh air, exercise,
and play.
If the boils should arise from gross and improper feeding, then
keep him for a time from meat, and let him live principally on a milk
and farinaceous diet.
If the child be fat and gross, cod-liver oil would be improper; a
mild aperient, such as rhubarb and magnesia, would then be the best
medicine.
239. What are the symptoms of Earache?
A young child screaming shrilly, violently, and continuously, is
oftentimes owing to earache; carefully, therefore, examine each ear,
and ascertain if there be any discharge; if there be, the mystery is
explained.
Screaming from earache may be distinguished from the screaming
from bowelache by the former (earache) being more continuous—
indeed, being one continued scream, and from the child putting his
hand to his head; while, in the latter (bowelache), the pain is more of
a coming and of a going character, and he draws up his legs to his
bowels. Again, in the former (earache), the secretions from the
bowels are natural; while, in the latter (bowelache), the secretions
from the bowels are usually depraved, and probably offensive. But a
careful examination of the ear will generally at once decide the
nature of the case.
240. What is the best remedy for Earache?
Apply to the ear a small flannel bag, filled with hot salt—as hot as
can be comfortably borne, or foment the ear with a flannel wrung out
of hot chamomile and poppy-head decoction. A roasted onion,
inclosed in muslin, applied to the ear, is an old-fashioned and
favorite remedy, and may, if the bag of hot salt, or if the hot
fomentation do not relieve, be tried. Put into the ear, but not very far,
a small piece of cotton wool, moistened with warm olive oil. Taking
care that the wool is always removed before a fresh piece be
substituted, as if it be allowed to remain in any length of time, it may
produce a discharge from the ear. Avoid all cold applications. If the
earache be severe, keep the little fellow at home, in a room of equal
temperature, but well ventilated, and give him, for a day or two, no
meat.
If a discharge from the ear should either accompany or follow the
earache, more especially if the discharge be offensive, instantly call
in a medical man, or deafness for life may be the result.
A knitted or crocheted hat, with woolen rosettes over the ears, is,
in the winter time, an excellent hat for a child subject to earache. The
hat may be procured at any baby-linen warehouse.
241. What are the causes and the treatment of discharges from
the Ear?
Cold, measles, scarlet fever, healing up of “breakings-out” behind
the ear; pellets of cotton wool, which had been put in the ear, and
had been forgotten to be removed, are the usual causes of discharges
from the ear. It generally commences with earache.
The treatment consists in keeping the parts clean, by syringing the
ear every morning with warm water, by attention to food, keeping
the child principally upon a milk and a farinaceous diet, and by
change of air, more especially to the coast. If change of air be not
practicable, great attention ought to be paid to ventilation. As I have
before advised, in all cases of discharge from the ear, call in a
medical man, as a little judicious medicine is advisable—indeed,
essential; and it may be necessary to syringe the ear with lotions,
instead of with warm water; and, of course, it is only a doctor who
has actually seen the patient who can decide these matters, and what
is best to be done in each individual case.
242. What is the treatment of a “sty” in the eyelid?

You might also like