The Living Script: Socrates and the Jewish Socrates

Plato, Phaedrus

Socrates I have heard a tradition of the ancients, whether true or not they only know; although if we had found the truth ourselves, do you think that we should care much about the opinions of men?
Phaedron Your question needs no answer; but I wish that you would tell me what you say that you have heard.
Soc. At the Egyptian city of Naucratis, there was a famous old god, whose name was Theuth; the bird which is called the Ibis is sacred to him, and he was the inventor of many arts, such as arithmetic and calculation and geometry and astronomy and draughts and dice, but his great discovery was the use of letters. Now in those days the god Thamus was the king of the whole country of Egypt; and he dwelt in that great city of Upper Egypt which the Hellenes call Egyptian Thebes, and the god himself is called by them Ammon. To him came Theuth and showed his inventions, desiring that the other Egyptians might be allowed to have the benefit of them; he enumerated them, and Thamus enquired about their several uses, and praised some of them and censured others, as he approved or disapproved of them. It would take a long time to repeat all that Thamus said to Theuth in praise or blame of the various arts. But when they came to letters, This, said Theuth, will make the Egyptians wiser and give them better memories; it is a specific both for the memory and for the wit. Thamus replied: O most ingenious Theuth, the parent or inventor of an art is not always the best judge of the utility or inutility of his own inventions to the users of them. And in this instance, you who are the father of letters, from a paternal love of your own children have been led to attribute to them a quality which they cannot have; for this discovery of yours will create forgetfulness in the learners' souls, because they will not use their memories; they will trust to the external written characters and not remember of themselves. The specific which you have discovered is an aid not to memory, but to reminiscence, and you give your disciples not truth, but only the semblance of truth; they will be hearers of many things and will have learned nothing; they will appear to be omniscient and will generally know nothing; they will be tiresome company, having the show of wisdom without the reality.
Phaedr. Yes, Socrates, you can easily invent tales of Egypt, or of any other country.

Soc. There was a tradition in the temple of Dodona that oaks first gave prophetic utterances. The men of old, unlike in their simplicity to young philosophy, deemed that if they heard the truth even from "oak or rock," it was enough for them; whereas you seem to consider not whether a thing is or is not true, but who the speaker is and from what country the tale comes.
Phaedr. I acknowledge the justice of your rebuke; and I think that the Theban is right in his view about letters.

Soc. He would be a very simple person, and quite a stranger to the oracles of Thamus or Ammon, who should leave in writing or receive in writing any art under the idea that the written word would be intelligible or certain; or who deemed that writing was at all better than knowledge and recollection of the same matters?
Phaedr. That is most true.
Soc. I cannot help feeling, Phaedrus, that writing is unfortunately like painting; for the creations of the painter have the attitude of life, and yet if you ask them a question they preserve a solemn silence. And the same may be said of speeches. You would imagine that they had intelligence, but if you want to know anything and put a question to one of them, the speaker always gives one unvarying answer. And when they have been once written down they are tumbled about anywhere among those who may or may not understand them, and know not to whom they should reply, to whom not: and, if they are maltreated or abused, they have no parent to protect them; and they cannot protect or defend themselves.
Phaedr. That again is most true.
Soc. Is there not another kind of word or speech far better than this, and having far greater power-a son of the same family, but lawfully begotten?
Phaedr. Whom do you mean, and what is his origin?
Soc. I mean an intelligent word graven in the soul of the learner, which can defend itself, and knows when to speak and when to be silent.

Moses Mendelssohn, Jerusalem

We have seen how hard it is to preserve the abstract ideas of religion among men by means of permanent signs. Images and hieroglyphics lead to superstition and idolatry, and our alphabetical script makes man too speculative - or, more exactly, it makes it too easy and tempting for people to come up with glib theories. It displays the symbolic knowledge of things and their relations too openly and superficially; it spares us the effort of probing and searching, and puts doctrine out of touch with life.

It was to remedy these defects that the lawgiver of this nation gave the ceremonial law. Religious and moral teachings were to be connected with men’s everyday doings and not-doings. The law didn’t require them to engage in reflection; it prescribed only behavior, only doings and not-doings. The great maxim of this constitution seems to have been: Men must be impelled to perform actions and only induced to engage in reflection. Therefore, each of these prescribed actions, each practice, each ceremony had its meaning, its genuine significance, which was precisely fitted to the theoretical knowledge of religion and the teachings of morality, and would lead a man in search of truth to reflect on these sacred matters or to seek instruction from wise men. The truths useful for the happiness of the nation and of each of its members were to be utterly removed from all imagery - because this was the governing purpose and basic law of the constitution. The truths in question were to be connected with actions and practices, which were to play the part of signs of them (without signs they can’t be preserved). Men’s actions are transitory; there is nothing lasting about them; and that protects them from leading to idolatry through abuse or misunderstanding, in the way that durable hieroglyphic script did. And men’s actions also have an advantage over alphabetical signs, namely that they don’t isolate man, don’t turn him into a solitary creature brooding over writings and books. Instead, they drive him to social exchanges, to imitation, and to living instructions given by voice. That’s why there were only a few written laws, and even these couldn’t be entirely understood without oral instruction and tradition; and it was forbidden to go on writing about them.

But the unwritten laws - the oral tradition, the living instruction from man to man, from mouth to heart - were to explain, enlarge, limit, and define more precisely things that had wisely been left undetermined in the written law. In everything a youth saw being done in all public as well as private dealings, on all gates and doorposts, in whatever he turned his eyes or ears to, he was prompted to inquire and reflect, to follow in the footsteps of an older and wiser man, observing his minutest actions and doings with childlike attentiveness and imitating them with childlike docility, to inquire into the spirit and purpose of those doings, and to seek such instruction as his master thought he was able and willing to receive. Thus an intimate connection was established between teaching and life, wisdom and activity, theorizing and sociability.