SOCRATES. And there are, and have been, many painters, good and bad?

ION. Certainly.

SOCRATES. Have you ever known someone who is skilled at showing what Polygnotus paints well and what he paints poorly, but who is completely unable to judge any other painter? Someone who falls asleep when other painters are discussed, but wakes up and has plenty to say only when Polygnotus is mentioned?

ION. No, by Zeus, I have not.

SOCRATES. And in sculpture? Have you ever known someone who could judge the skill of Daedalus or Epeius, but who had nothing to say about the work of other sculptors?

ION. No, I have never seen anyone like that either.

SOCRATES. And I imagine the same holds true for flute-playing, lyre-playing, or singing to the cithara. You have never known someone who was clever at judging the flute-playing of Olympus, but who fell asleep and had nothing to say when judging another flute-player.

ION. I cannot argue with you on that point, Socrates. But I know this much about myself: I speak about Homer better and more abundantly than anyone else, and everyone else says I speak well about him. But I do not speak well about the others. Tell me why this is so.

SOCRATES. I will tell you, Ion, what I think this is. As I said before, this ability you have to speak well about Homer is not an art in you. It is a divine power that moves you, just like the power in the stone that Euripides called a magnet, though most call it the Heraclean stone. This stone not only attracts iron rings, but also imparts its power to the rings themselves, so they can attract other rings. Sometimes a long chain of iron rings is formed, all depending on the power of the original stone. In the same way, the Muse first inspires people herself, and then through these inspired people a chain of others is suspended, all sharing in the inspiration. For all good epic poets do not compose their beautiful poems by art, but because they are inspired and possessed.