Sophist
by Plato
translated by Benjamin Jowett
Persons of the Dialogue:
THEODORUS;
THEAETETUS;
SOCRATES
An Eleatic STRANGER, whom Theodorus and Theaetetus bring with them;
The younger SOCRATES, who is a silent auditor.
[Theodorus] Here we are, Socrates, true to our agreement of
yesterday; and we bring with us a stranger from Elea, who is a
disciple of Parmenides and Zeno, and a true philosopher.
[Socrates] Is he not rather a god, Theodorus, who comes to us
in the disguise of a stranger? For Homer says that all the gods,
and especially the god of strangers, are companions of the meek
and just, and visit the good and evil among men. And may not your
companion be one of those higher powers, a cross-examining deity,
who has come to spy out our weakness in argument, and to cross-examine
us?
[Theod.] Nay, Socrates, he is not one of the disputatious sort-he
is too good for that. And, in my opinion, he is not a god at all;
but divine he certainly is, for this is a title which I should
give to all philosophers.
[Soc.] Capital, my friend! and I may add that they are almost
as hard to be discerned as the gods. For the true philosophers,
and such as are not merely made up for the occasion, appear in
various forms unrecognized by the ignorance of men, and they
"hover about cities," as Homer declares, looking from
above upon human life; and some think nothing of them, and others
can never think enough; and sometimes they appear as statesmen,
and sometimes as sophists; and then, again, to many they seem to
be no better than madmen. I should like to ask our Eleatic
friend, if he would tell us, what is thought about them in Italy,
and to whom the terms are applied.
[Theod.] What terms?
[Soc.] Sophist, statesman, philosopher.
[Theod.] What is your difficulty about them, and what made you
ask?
[Soc.] I want to know whether by his countrymen they are
regarded as one or two; or do they, as the names are three,
distinguish also three kinds, and assign one to each name?
[Theod.] I dare say that the Stranger will not object to
discuss the question. What do you say, Stranger?
[Stranger] I am far from objecting, Theodorus, nor have I any
difficulty in replying that by us they are regarded as three. But
to define precisely the nature of each of them is by no means a
slight or easy task.
[Theod.] You have happened to light, Socrates, almost on the
very question which we were asking our friend before we came
hither, and he excused himself to us, as he does now you;
although he admitted that the matter had been fully discussed,
and that he remembered the answer.
[Soc.] Then do not, Stranger, deny us the first favour which
we ask of you: I am sure that you will not, and therefore I shall
only beg of you to say whether you like and are accustomed to
make a long oration on a subject which you want to explain to
another, or to proceed by the method of question and answer. I
remember hearing a very noble discussion in which Parmenides
employed the latter of the two methods, when I was a young man,
and he was far advanced in years.
[Str.] I prefer to talk with another when he responds
pleasantly, and is light in hand; if not, I would rather have my
own say.
[Soc.] Any one of the present company will respond kindly to
you, and you can choose whom you like of them; I should recommend
you to take a young person-Theaetetus, for example-unless you
have a preference for some one else.
[Str.] I feel ashamed, Socrates, being a new comer into your
society, instead of talking a little and hearing others talk, to
be spinning out a long soliloquy or address, as if I wanted to
show off. For the true answer will certainly be a very long one,
a great deal longer than might be expected from such a short and
simple question. At the same time, I fear that I may seem rude
and ungracious if I refuse your courteous request, especially
after what you have said. For I certainly cannot object to your
proposal, that Theaetetus should respond, having already
conversed with him myself, and being recommended by you to take
him.
[Theaetetus] But are you sure, Stranger, that this will be
quite so acceptable to the rest of the company as Socrates
imagines?
[Str.] You hear them applauding, Theaetetus; after that, there
is nothing more to be said. Well then, I am to argue with you,
and if you tire of the argument, you may complain of your friends
and not of me.
[Theaet.] I do not think that I shall tire, and if I do, I
shall get my friend here, young Socrates, the namesake of the
elder Socrates, to help; he is about my own age, and my partner
at the gymnasium, and is constantly accustomed to work with me.
[Str.] Very good; you can decide about that for yourself as we
proceed. Meanwhile you and I will begin together and enquire into
the nature of the Sophist, first of the three: I should like you
to make out what he is and bring him to light in a discussion;
for at present we are only agreed about the name, but of the
thing to which we both apply the name possibly you have one
notion and I another; whereas we ought always to come to an
understanding about the thing itself in terms of a definition,
and not merely about the name minus the definition. Now the tribe
of Sophists which we are investigating is not easily caught or
defined; and the world has long ago agreed, that if great
subjects are to be adequately treated, they must be studied in
the lesser and easier instances of them before we proceed to the
greatest of all. And as I know that the tribe of Sophists is
troublesome and hard to be caught, I should recommend that we
practise beforehand the method which is to be applied to him on
some simple and smaller thing, unless you can suggest a better
way.
[Theaet.] Indeed I cannot.
[Str.] Then suppose that we work out some lesser example which
will be a pattern of the greater?
[Theaet.] Good.
[Str.] What is there which is well known and not great, and is
yet as susceptible of definition as any larger thing? Shall I say
an angler? He is familiar to all of us, and not a very
interesting or important person.
[Theaet.] He is not.
[Str.] Yet I suspect that he will furnish us with the sort of
definition and line of enquiry which we want.
[Theaet.] Very good.
[Str.] Let us begin by asking whether he is a man having art
or not having art, but some other power.
[Theaet.] He is clearly a man of art.
[Str.] And of arts there are two kinds?
[Theaet.] What are they?
[Str.] There is agriculture, and the tending of mortal
creatures, and the art of constructing or moulding vessels, and
there is the art of imitation-all these may be appropriately
called by a single name.
[Theaet.] What do you mean? And what is the name?
[Str.] He who brings into existence something that did not
exist before is said to be a producer, and that which is brought
into existence is said to be produced.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And all the arts which were just now mentioned are
characterized by this power of producing?
[Theaet.] They are.
[Str.] Then let us sum them up under the name of productive or
creative art.
[Theaet.] Very good.
[Str.] Next follows the whole class of learning and cognition;
then comes trade, fighting, hunting. And since none of these
produces anything, but is only engaged in conquering by word or
deed, or in preventing others from conquering, things which exist
and have been already produced-in each and all of these branches
there appears to be an art which may be called acquisitive.
[Theaet.] Yes, that is the proper name.
[Str.] Seeing, then, that all arts are either acquisitive or
creative, in which class shall we place the art of the angler?
[Theaet.] Clearly in the acquisitive class.
[Str.] And the acquisitive may be subdivided into two parts:
there is exchange, which is voluntary and is effected by gifts,
hire, purchase; and the other part of acquisitive, which takes by
force of word or deed, may be termed conquest?
[Theaet.] That is implied in what has been said.
[Str.] And may not conquest be again subdivided?
[Theaet.] How?
[Str.] Open force may; be called fighting, and secret force
may have the general name of hunting?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And there is no reason why the art of hunting should
not be further divided.
[Theaet.] How would you make the division?
[Str.] Into the hunting of living and of lifeless prey.
[Theaet.] Yes, if both kinds exist.
[Str.] Of course they exist; but the hunting after lifeless
things having no special name, except some sorts of diving, and
other small matters, may be omitted; the hunting after living
things may be called animal hunting.
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And animal hunting may be truly said to have two
divisions, land-animal hunting, which has many kinds and names,
and water-animals hunting, or the hunting after animals who swim?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And of swimming animals, one class lives on the wing
and the other in the water?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] Fowling is the general term under which the hunting of
all birds is included.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] The hunting of animals who live in the water has the
general name of fishing.
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And this sort of hunting may be further divided also
into two principal kinds?
[Theaet.] What are they?
[Str.] There is one kind which takes them in nets, another
which takes them by a blow.
[Theaet.] What do you mean, and how do you distinguish them?
[Str.] As to the first kind-all that surrounds and encloses
anything to prevent egress, may be rightly called an enclosure.
[Theaet.] Very true.
[Str.] For which reason twig baskets, casting nets, nooses,
creels, and the like may all be termed "enclosures"?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And therefore this first kind of capture may be called
by us capture with enclosures, or something of that sort?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] The other kind, which is practised by a blow with hooks
and three pronged spears, when summed up under one name, may be
called striking, unless you, Theaetetus, can find some better
name?
[Theaet.] Never mind the name-what you suggest will do very
well.
[Str.] There is one mode of striking, which is done at night,
and by the light of a fire, and is by the hunters themselves
called firing, or spearing by firelight.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And the fishing by day is called by the general name of
barbing because the spears, too, are barbed at the point.
[Theaet.] Yes, that is the term.
[Str.] Of this barb-fishing, that which strikes the fish Who
is below from above is called spearing, because this is the way
in which the three-pronged spears are mostly used.
[Theaet.] Yes, it is often called so.
[Str.] Then now there is only one kind remaining.
[Theaet.] What is that?
[Str.] When a hook is used, and the fish is not struck in any
chance part of his body-he as be is with the spear, but only
about the head and mouth, and is then drawn out from below
upwards with reeds and rods:-What is the right name of that mode
of fish, Theaetetus?
[Theaet.] I suspect that we have now discovered the object of
our search.
[Str.] Then now you and I have come to an understanding not
only about the name of the angler's art, but about the definition
of the thing itself. One half of all art was acquisitive-half of
all the art acquisitive art was conquest or taking by force, half
of this was hunting, and half of hunting was hunting animals,
half of this was hunting water animals-of this again, the under
half was fishing, half of fishing was striking; a part of
striking was fishing with a barb, and one half of this again,
being the kind which strikes with a hook and draws the fish from
below upwards, is the art which we have been seeking, and which
from the nature of the operation is denoted angling or drawing up
(aspalienutike, anaspasthai).
[Theaet.] The result has been quite satisfactorily brought out.
[Str.] And now, following this pattern, let us endeavour to
find out what a Sophist is.
[Theaet.] By all means.
[Str.] The first question about the angler was, whether he was
a skilled artist or unskilled?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And shall we call our new friend unskilled, or a
thorough master of his craft?
[Theaet.] Certainly not unskilled, for his name, as, indeed,
you imply, must surely express his nature.
[Str.] Then he must be supposed to have some art.
[Theaet.] What art?
[Str.] By heaven, they are cousins! it never occurred to us.
[Theaet.] Who are cousins?
[Str.] The angler and the Sophist.
[Theaet.] In what way are they related?
[Str.] They both appear to me to be hunters.
[Theaet.] How the Sophist? Of the other we have spoken.
[Str.] You remember our division of hunting, into hunting
after swimming animals and land animals?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And you remember that we subdivided the swimming and
left the land animals, saying that there were many kinds of them?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] Thus far, then, the Sophist and the angler, starting
from the art of acquiring, take the same road?
[Theaet.] So it would appear.
[Str.] Their paths diverge when they reach the art of animal
hunting; the one going to the seashore, and to the rivers and to
the lakes, and angling for the animals which are in them.
[Theaet.] Very true.
[Str.] While the other goes to land and water of another sort-rivers
of wealth and broad meadow-lands of generous youth; and he also
is intending to take the animals which are in them.
[Theaet.] What do you mean?
[Str.] Of hunting on land there are two principal divisions.
[Theaet.] What are they?
[Str.] One is the hunting of tame, and the other of wild
animals.
[Theaet.] But are tame animals ever hunted?
[Str.] Yes, if you include man under tame animals. But if you
like you may say that there are no tame animals, or that, if
there are, man is not among them; or you may say that man is a
tame animal but is not hunted-you shall decide which of these
alternatives you prefer.
[Theaet.] I should say, Stranger, that man is a tame animal,
and I admit that he is hunted.
[Str.] Then let us divide the hunting of tame animals into two
parts.
[Theaet.] How shall we make the division?
[Str.] Let us define piracy, man-stealing, tyranny, the whole
military art, by one name, as hunting with violence.
[Theaet.] Very good.
[Str.] But the art of the lawyer, of the popular orator, and
the art of conversation may be called in one word the art of
persuasion.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And of persuasion, there may be said to be two kinds?
[Theaet.] What are they?
[Str.] One is private, and the other public.
[Theaet.] Yes; each of them forms a class.
[Str.] And of private hunting, one sort receives hire, and the
other brings gifts.
[Theaet.] I do not understand you.
[Str.] You seem never to have observed the manner in which
lovers hunt.
[Theaet.] To what do you refer?
[Str.] I mean that they lavish gifts on those whom they hunt
in addition to other inducements.
[Theaet.] Most true.
[Str.] Let us admit this, then, to be the amatory art.
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] But that sort of hireling whose conversation is
pleasing and who baits his hook only with pleasure and exacts
nothing but his maintenance in return, we should all, if I am not
mistaken, describe as possessing flattery or an art of making
things pleasant.
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And that sort, which professes to form acquaintances
only for the sake of virtue, and demands a reward in the shape of
money, may be fairly called by another name?
[Theaet.] To be sure.
[Str.] And what is the name? Will you tell me?
[Theaet.] It is obvious enough; for I believe that we have
discovered the Sophist: which is, as I conceive, the proper name
for the class described.
[Str.] Then now, Theaetetus, his art may be traced as a branch
of the appropriative, acquisitive family-which hunts animals,-living-land-tame
animals; which hunts man,-privately-for hire,-taking money in
exchange-having the semblance of education; and this is termed
Sophistry, and is a hunt after young men of wealth and rank-such
is the conclusion.
[Theaet.] Just so.
[Str.] Let us take another branch of his genealogy; for he is
a professor of a great and many sided art; and if we look back at
what has preceded we see that he presents another aspect, besides
that of which we are speaking.
[Theaet.] In what respect?
[Str.] There were two sorts of acquisitive art; the one
concerned with hunting, the other with exchange.
[Theaet.] There were.
[Str.] And of the art of exchange there are two divisions, the
one of giving, and the other of selling.
[Theaet.] Let us assume that.
[Str.] Next, will suppose the art of selling to be divided
into two parts.
[Theaet.] How?
[Str.] There is one part which is distinguished as the sale of
a man's own productions; another, which is the exchange of the
works of others.
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And is not that part of exchange which takes place in
the city, being about half of the whole, termed retailing?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And that which exchanges the goods of one city for
those of another by selling and buying is the exchange of the
merchant?
[Theaet.] To be sure.
[Str.] And you are aware that this exchange of the merchant is
of two kinds: it is partly concerned with food for the use of the
body, and partly with the food of the soul which is bartered and
received in exchange for money.
[Theaet.] What do you mean?
[Str.] You want to know what is the meaning of food for the
soul; the other kind you surely understand.
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] Take music in general and painting and marionette
playing and many other things, which are purchased in one city,
and carried away and sold in another-wares of the soul which are
hawked about either for the sake of instruction or amusement;-may
not he who takes them about and sells them be quite as truly
called a merchant as he who sells meats and drinks?
[Theaet.] To be sure he may.
[Str.] And would you not call by the same name him who buys up
knowledge and goes about from city to city exchanging his wares
for money?
[Theaet.] Certainly I should.
[Str.] Of this merchandise of the soul, may not one part be
fairly termed the art of display? And there is another part which
is certainly not less ridiculous, but being a trade in learning
must be called by some name germane to the matter?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] The latter should have two names,-one descriptive of
the sale of the knowledge of virtue, and the other of the sale of
other kinds of knowledge.
[Theaet.] Of course.
[Str.] The name of art-seller corresponds well enough to the
latter; but you must try and tell me the name of the other.
[Theaet.] He must be the Sophist, whom we are seeking; no
other name can possibly be right.
[Str.] No other; and so this trader in virtue again turns out
to be our friend the Sophist, whose art may now be traced from
the art of acquisition through exchange, trade, merchandise, to a
merchandise of the soul which is concerned with speech and the
knowledge of virtue.
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] And there may be a third reappearance of him;-for he
may have settled down in a city, and may fabricate as well as buy
these same wares, intending to live by selling them, and he would
still be called a Sophist?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] Then that part of acquisitive art which exchanges, and
of exchange which either sells a man's own productions or retails
those of others; as the case may be, and in either way sells the
knowledge of virtue, you would again term Sophistry?
[Theaet.] I must, if I am to keep pace with the argument.
[Str.] Let us consider once more whether there may not be yet
another aspect of sophistry.
[Theaet.] What is it?
[Str.] In the acquisitive there was a subdivision of the
combative or fighting art.
[Theaet.] There was.
[Str.] Perhaps we had better divide it.
[Theaet.] What shall be the divisions?
[Str.] There shall be one division of the competitive, and
another of the pugnacious.
[Theaet.] Very good.
[Str.] That part of the pugnacious which is contest of bodily
strength may be properly called by some such name as violent.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And when the war is one of words, it may be termed
controversy?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And controversy may be of two kinds.
[Theaet.] What are they?
[Str.] When long speeches are answered by long speeches, and
there is public discussion about the just and unjust, that is
forensic controversy.
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And there is a private sort of controversy, which is
cut up into questions and answers, and this is commonly called
disputation?
[Theaet.] Yes, that is the name.
[Str.] And of disputation, that sort which is only a
discussion about contracts, and is carried on at random, and
without rules-art, is recognized by the reasoning faculty to be a
distinct class, but has hitherto had no distinctive name, and
does not deserve to receive one from us.
[Theaet.] No; for the different sorts of it are too minute and
heterogeneous.
[Str.] But that which proceeds by rules of art to dispute
about justice and injustice in their own nature, and about things
in general, we have been accustomed to call argumentation (Eristic)?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And of argumentation, one sort wastes money, and the
other makes money.
[Theaet.] Very true.
[Str.] Suppose we try and give to each of these two classes a
name.
[Theaet.] Let us do so.
[Str.] I should say that the habit which leads a man to
neglect his own affairs for the pleasure of conversation, of
which the style is far from being agreeable to the majority of
his hearers, may be fairly termed loquacity: such is my opinion.
[Theaet.] That is the common name for it.
[Str.] But now who the other is, who makes money out of
private disputation, it is your turn to say.
[Theaet.] There is only one true answer: he is the wonderful
Sophist, of whom we are in pursuit, and who reappears again for
the fourth time.
[Str.] Yes, and with a fresh pedigree, for he is the money-making
species of the Eristic, disputatious, controversial. pugnacious,
combative, acquisitive family, as the argument has already proven.
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] How true was the observation that he was a many-sided
animal, and not to be caught with one hand, as they say!
[Theaet.] Then you must catch him with two.
[Str.] Yes, we must, if we can. And therefore let us try,
another track in our pursuit of him: You are aware that there are
certain menial occupations which have names among servants?
[Theaet.] Yes, there are many such; which of them do you mean?
[Str.] I mean such as sifting, straining, winnowing, threshing.
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And besides these there are a great many more, such as
carding, spinning, adjusting the warp and the woof; and thousands
of similar expressions are used in the arts.
[Theaet.] Of what are they to be patterns, and what are we
going to do with them all?
[Str.] I think that in all of these there is implied a notion
of division.
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] Then if, as I was saying, there is one art which
includes all of them, ought not that art to have one name?
[Theaet.] And what is the name of the art?
[Str.] The art of discerning or discriminating.
[Theaet.] Very good.
[Str.] Think whether you cannot divide this.
[Theaet.] I should have to think a long while.
[Str.] In all the previously named processes either like has
been separated from like or the better from the worse.
[Theaet.] I see now what you mean.
[Str.] There is no name for the first kind of separation; of
the second, which throws away the worse and preserves the better,
I do know a name.
[Theaet.] What is it?
[Str.] Every discernment or discrimination of that kind, as I
have observed, is called a purification.
[Theaet.] Yes, that is the usual expression.
[Str.] And any one may see that purification is of two kinds.
[Theaet.] Perhaps so, if he were allowed time to think; but I
do not see at this moment.
[Str.] There are many purifications of bodies which may with
propriety be comprehended under a single name.
[Theaet.] What are they, and what is their name?
[Str.] There is the purification of living bodies in their
inward and in their outward parts, of which the former is duly
effected by medicine and gymnastic, the latter by the not very
dignified art of the bath-man; and there is the purification of
inanimate substances-to this the arts of fulling and of
furbishing in general attend in a number of minute particulars,
having a variety of names which are thought ridiculous.
[Theaet.] Very true.
[Str.] There can be no doubt that they are thought ridiculous,
Theaetetus; but then the dialectical art never considers whether
the benefit to be derived from the purge is greater or less than
that to be derived from the sponge, and has not more interest in
the one than in the other; her endeavour is to know what is and
is not kindred in all arts, with a view to the acquisition of
intelligence; and having this in view, she honours them all
alike, and when she makes comparisons, she counts one of them not
a whit more ridiculous than another; nor does she esteem him who
adduces as his example of hunting, the general's art, at all more
decorous than another who cites that of the vermin-destroyer, but
only as the greater pretender of the two. And as to your question
concerning the name which was to comprehend all these arts of
purification, whether of animate or inanimate bodies, the art of
dialectic is in no wise particular about fine words, if she maybe
only allowed to have a general name for all other purifications,
binding them up together and separating them off from the
purification of the soul or intellect. For this is the
purification at which she wants to arrive, and this we should
understand to be her aim.
[Theaet.] Yes, I understand; and I agree that there are two
sorts of purification and that one of them is concerned with the
soul, and that there is another which is concerned with the body.
[Str.] Excellent; and now listen to what I am going to say,
and try to divide further the first of the two.
[Theaet.] Whatever line of division you suggest, I will
endeavour to assist you.
[Str.] Do we admit that virtue is distinct from vice in the
soul?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And purification was to leave the good and to cast out
whatever is bad?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] Then any taking away of evil from the soul may be
properly called purification?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And in the soul there are two kinds of evil.
[Theaet.] What are they?
[Str.] The one may be compared to disease in the body, the
other to deformity.
[Theaet.] I do not understand.
[Str.] Perhaps you have never reflected that disease and
discord are the same.
[Theaet.] To this, again, I know not what I should reply.
[Str.] Do you not conceive discord to be a dissolution of
kindred clements, originating in some disagreement?
[Theaet.] Just that.
[Str.] And is deformity anything but the want of measure,
which is always unsightly?
[Theaet.] Exactly.
[Str.] And do we not see that opinion is opposed to desire,
pleasure to anger, reason to pain, and that all these elements
are opposed to one another in the souls of bad men?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And yet they must all be akin?
[Theaet.] Of course.
[Str.] Then we shall be right in calling vice a discord and
disease of the soul?
[Theaet.] Most true.
[Str.] And when things having motion, an aiming at an
appointed mark, continually miss their aim and glance aside,
shall we say that this is the effect of symmetry among them, or
of the want of symmetry?
[Theaet.] Clearly of the want of symmetry.
[Str.] But surely we know that no soul is voluntarily ignorant
of anything?
[Theaet.] Certainly not.
[Str.] And what is ignorance but the aberration of a mind
which is bent on truth, and in which the process of understanding
is perverted?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] Then we are to regard an unintelligent soul as deformed
and devoid of symmetry?
[Theaet.] Very true.
[Str.] Then there are these two kinds of evil in the soul-the
one which is generally called vice, and is obviously a disease of
the soul...
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And there is the other, which they call ignorance, and
which, because existing only in the soul, they will not allow to
be vice.
[Theaet.] I certainly admit what I at first disputed-that
there are two kinds of vice in the soul, and that we ought to
consider cowardice, intemperance, and injustice to be alike forms
of disease in the soul, and ignorance, of which there are all
sorts of varieties, to be deformity.
[Str.] And in the case of the body are there not two arts,
which have to do with the two bodily states?
[Theaet.] What are they?
[Str.] There is gymnastic, which has to do with deformity, and
medicine, which has to do with disease.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And where there is insolence and injustice and
cowardice, is not chastisement the art which is most required?
[Theaet.] That certainly appears to be the opinion of mankind.
[Str.] Again, of the various kinds of ignorance, may not
instruction be rightly said to be the remedy?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And of the art of instruction, shall we say that there
is one or many kinds? At any rate there are two principal ones.
Think.
[Theaet.] I will.
[Str.] I believe that I can see how we shall soonest arrive at
the answer to this question.
[Theaet.] How?
[Str.] If we can discover a line which divides ignorance into
two halves. For a division of ignorance into two parts will
certainly imply that the art of instruction is also twofold,
answering to the two divisions of ignorance.
[Theaet.] Well, and do you see what you are looking for?
[Str.] I do seem to myself to see one very large and bad sort
of ignorance which is quite separate, and may be weighed in the
scale against all other sorts of ignorance put together.
[Theaet.] What is it?
[Str.] When a person supposes that he knows, and does not know
this appears to be the great source of all the errors of the
intellect.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And this, if I am not mistaken, is the kind of
ignorance which specially earns the title of stupidity.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] What name, then, shall be given to the sort of
instruction which gets rid of this?
[Theaet.] The instruction which you mean, Stranger, is, I
should imagine, not the teaching of handicraft arts, but what,
thanks to us, has been termed education in this part the world.
[Str.] Yes, Theaetetus, and by nearly all Hellenes. But we
have still to consider whether education admits of any further
division.
[Theaet.] We have.
[Str.] I think that there is a point at which such a division
is possible.
[Theaet.] Where?
[Str.] Of education, one method appears to be rougher, and
another smoother.
[Theaet.] How are we to distinguish the two?
[Str.] There is the time-honoured mode which our fathers
commonly practised towards their sons, and which is still adopted
by many-either of roughly reproving their errors, or of gently
advising them; which varieties may be correctly included under
the general term of admonition.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] But whereas some appear to have arrived at the
conclusion that all ignorance is involuntary, and that no one who
thinks himself wise is willing to learn any of those things in
which he is conscious of his own cleverness, and that the
admonitory sort of instruction gives much trouble and does little
good-
[Theaet.] There they are quite right.
[Str.] Accordingly, they set to work to eradicate the spirit
of conceit in another way.
[Theaet.] In what way?
[Str.] They cross-examine a man's words, when he thinks that
he is saying something and is really saying nothing, and easily
convict him of inconsistencies in his opinions; these they then
collect by the dialectical process, and placing them side by
side, show that they contradict one another about the same
things, in relation to the same things, and in the same respect.
He, seeing this, is angry with himself, and grows gentle towards
others, and thus is entirely delivered from great prejudices and
harsh notions, in a way which is most amusing to the hearer, and
produces the most lasting good effect on the person who is the
subject of the operation. For as the physician considers that the
body will receive no benefit from taking food until the internal
obstacles have been removed, so the purifier of the soul is
conscious that his patient will receive no benefit from the
application of knowledge until he is refuted, and from refutation
learns modesty; he must be purged of his prejudices first and
made to think that he knows only what he knows, and no more.
[Theaet.] That is certainly the best and wisest state of mind.
[Str.] For all these reasons, Theaetetus, we must admit that
refutation is the greatest and chiefest of purifications, and he
who has not been refuted, though he be the Great King himself, is
in an awful state of impurity; he is uninstructed and deformed in
those things in which he who would be truly blessed ought to be
fairest and purest.
[Theaet.] Very true.
[Str.] And who are the ministers of this art? I am afraid to
say the Sophists.
[Theaet.] Why?
[Str.] Lest we should assign to them too high a prerogative.
[Theaet.] Yet the Sophist has a certain likeness to our
minister of purification.
[Str.] Yes, the same sort of likeness which a wolf, who is the
fiercest of animals, has to a dog, who is the gentlest. But he
who would not be found tripping, ought to be very careful in this
matter of comparisons, for they are most slippery things.
Nevertheless, let us assume that the Sophists are the men. I say
this provisionally, for I think that the line which divides them
will be marked enough if proper care is taken.
[Theaet.] Likely enough.
[Str.] Let us grant, then, that from the discerning art comes
purification, and from purification let there be separated off a
part which is concerned with the soul; of this mental
purification instruction is a portion, and of instruction
education, and of education, that refutation of vain conceit
which has been discovered in the present argument; and let this
be called by you and me the nobly-descended art of Sophistry.
[Theaet.] Very well; and yet, considering the number of forms
in which he has presented himself, I begin to doubt how I can
with any truth or confidence describe the real nature of the
Sophist.
[Str.] You naturally feel perplexed; and yet I think that he
must be still more perplexed in his attempt to escape us, for as
the proverb says, when every way is blocked, there is no escape;
now, then, is the time of all others to set upon him.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] First let us wait a moment and recover breath, and
while we are resting, we may reckon up in how many forms he has
appeared. In the first place, he was discovered to be a paid
hunter after wealth and youth.
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] In the second place, he was a merchant in the goods of
the soul.
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] In the third place, he has turned out to be a retailer
of the same sort of wares.
[Theaet.] Yes; and in the fourth place, he himself
manufactured the learned wares which he sold.
[Str.] Quite right; I will try and remember the fifth myself.
He belonged to the fighting class, and was further distinguished
as a hero of debate, who professed the eristic art.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] The sixth point was doubtful, and yet we at last agreed
that he was a purger of souls, who cleared away notions
obstructive to knowledge.
[Theaet.] Very true.
[Str.] Do you not see that when the professor of any art has
one name and many kinds of knowledge, there must be something
wrong? The multiplicity of names which is applied to him shows
that the common principle to which all these branches of
knowledge are tending, is not understood.
[Theaet.] I should imagine this to be the case.
[Str.] At any rate we will understand him, and no indolence
shall prevent us. Let us begin again, then, and re-examine some
of our statements concerning the Sophist; there was one thing
which appeared to me especially characteristic of him.
[Theaet.] To what are you referring?
[Str.] We were saying of him, if I am not mistaken, that he
was a disputer?
[Theaet.] We were.
[Str.] And does he not also teach others the art of
disputation?
[Theaet.] Certainly he does.
[Str.] And about what does he profess that he teaches men to
dispute? To begin at the beginning-Does he make them able to
dispute about divine things, which are invisible to men in
general?
[Theaet.] At any rate, he is said to do so.
[Str.] And what do you say of the visible things in heaven and
earth, and the like?
[Theaet.] Certainly he disputes, and teaches to dispute about
them.
[Str.] Then, again, in private conversation, when any
universal assertion is made about generation and essence, we know
that such persons are tremendous argufiers, and are able to
impart their own skill to others.
[Theaet.] Undoubtedly.
[Str.] And do they not profess to make men able to dispute
about law and about politics in general?
[Theaet.] Why, no one would have anything to say to them, if
they did not make these professions.
[Str.] In all and every art, what the craftsman ought to say
in answer to any question is written down in a popular form, and
he who likes may learn.
[Theaet.] I suppose that you are referring to the precepts of
Protagoras about wrestling and the other arts?
[Str.] Yes, my friend, and about a good many other things. In
a word, is not the art of disputation a power of disputing about
all things?
[Theaet.] Certainly; there does not seem to be much which is
left out.
[Str.] But oh! my dear youth, do you suppose this possible?
for perhaps your young eyes may see things which to our duller
sight do not appear.
[Theaet.] To what are you alluding? I do not think that I
understand your present question.
[Str.] I ask whether anybody can understand all things.
[Theaet.] Happy would mankind be if such a thing were possible!
[Soc.] But how can any one who is ignorant dispute in a
rational manner against him who knows?
[Theaet.] He cannot.
[Str.] Then why has the sophistical art such a mysterious
power?
[Theaet.] To what do you refer?
[Str.] How do the Sophists make young men believe in their
supreme and universal wisdom? For if they neither disputed nor
were thought to dispute rightly, or being thought to do so were
deemed no wiser for their controversial skill, then, to quote
your own observation, no one would give them money or be willing
to learn their art.
[Theaet.] They certainly would not.
[Str.] But they are willing.
[Theaet.] Yes, they are.
[Str.] Yes, and the reason, as I should imagine, is that they
are supposed to have knowledge of those things about which they
dispute?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And they dispute about all things?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And therefore, to their disciples, they appear to be
all-wise?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] But they are not; for that was shown to be impossible.
[Theaet.] Impossible, of course.
[Str.] Then the Sophist has been shown to have a sort of
conjectural or apparent knowledge only of all things, which is
not the truth?
[Theaet.] Exactly; no better description of him could be given.
[Str.] Let us now take an illustration, which will still more
clearly explain his nature.
[Theaet.] What is it?
[Str.] I will tell you, and you shall answer me, giving your
very closest attention. Suppose that a person were to profess,
not that he could speak or dispute, but that he knew how to make
and do all things, by a single art.
[Theaet.] All things?
[Str.] I see that you do not understand the first word that I
utter, for you do not understand the meaning of "all."
[Theaet.] No, I do not.
[Str.] Under all things, I include you and me, and also
animals and trees.
[Theaet.] What do you mean?
[Str.] Suppose a person to say that he will make you and me,
and all creatures.
[Theaet.] What would he mean by "making"? He cannot
be a husbandman;-for you said that he is a maker of animals.
[Str.] Yes; and I say that he is also the maker of the sea,
and the earth, and the heavens, and the gods, and of all other
things; and, further, that he can make them in no time, and sell
them for a few pence.
[Theaet.] That must be a jest.
[Str.] And when a man says that he knows all things, and can
teach them to another at a small cost, and in a short time, is
not that a jest?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And is there any more artistic or graceful form of jest
than imitation?
[Theaet.] Certainly not; and imitation is a very comprehensive
term, which includes under one class the most diverse sorts of
things.
[Str.] We know, of course, that he who professes by one art to
make all things is really a painter, and by the painter's art
makes resemblances of real things which have the same name with
them; and he can deceive the less intelligent sort of young
children, to whom he shows his pictures at a distance, into the
belief that he has the absolute power of making whatever he likes.
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And may there not be supposed to be an imitative art of
reasoning? Is it not possible to enchant the hearts of young men
by words poured through their ears, when they are still at a
distance from the truth of facts, by exhibiting to them
fictitious arguments, and making them think that they are true,
and that the speaker is the wisest of men in all things?
[Theaet.] Yes; why should there not be another such art?
[Str.] But as time goes on, and their hearers advance in
years, and come into closer contact with realities, and have
learnt by sad experience to see and feel the truth of things, are
not the greater part of them compelled to change many opinions
which they formerly entertained, so that the great appears small
to them, and the easy difficult, and all their dreamy
speculations are overturned by the facts of life?
[Theaet.] That is my view, as far as I can judge, although, at
my age, I may be one of those who see things at a distance only.
[Str.] And the wish of all of us, who are your friends, is and
always will be to bring you as near to the truth as we can
without the sad reality. And now I should like you to tell me,
whether the Sophist is not visibly a magician and imitator of
true being; or are we still disposed to think that he may have a
true knowledge of the various matters about which he disputes?
[Theaet.] But how can he, Stranger? Is there any doubt, after
what has been said, that he is to be located in one of the
divisions of children's play?
[Str.] Then we must place him in the class of magicians and
mimics.
[Theaet.] Certainly we must.
[Str.] And now our business is not to let the animal out, for
we have got him in a sort of dialectical net, and there is one
thing which he decidedly will not escape.
[Theaet.] What is that?
[Str.] The inference that he is a juggler.
[Theaet.] Precisely my own opinion of him.
[Str.] Then, clearly, we ought as soon as possible to divide
the image-making art, and go down into the net, and, if the
Sophist does not run away from us, to seize him according to
orders and deliver him over to reason, who is the lord of the
hunt, and proclaim the capture of him; and if he creeps into the
recesses of the imitative art, and secretes himself in one of
them, to divide again and follow him up until in some sub-section
of imitation he is caught. For our method of tackling each and
all is one which neither he nor any other creature will ever
escape in triumph.
[Theaet.] Well said; and let us do as you propose.
[Str.] Well, then, pursuing the same analytic method as
before, I think that I can discern two divisions of the imitative
art, but I am not as yet able to see in which of them the desired
form is to be found.
[Theaet.] Will you tell me first what are two divisions of
which you are speaking?
[Str.] One is the art of likeness-making;-generally a likeness
of anything is made by producing a copy which is executed
according to the proportions of the original, similar in length
and breadth and depth, each thing receiving also its appropriate
colour.
[Theaet.] Is not this always the aim of imitation?
[Str.] Not always; in works either of sculpture or of
painting, which are of any magnitude, there is a certain degree
of deception; -for artists were to give the true proportions of
their fair works, the upper part, which is farther off, would
appear to be out of proportion in comparison with the lower,
which is nearer; and so they give up the truth in their images
and make only the proportions which appear to be beautiful,
disregarding the real ones.
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] And that which being other is also like, may we not
fairly call a likeness or image?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And may we not, as I did just now, call that part of
the imitative art which is concerned with making such images the
art of likeness making?
[Theaet.] Let that be the name.
[Str.] And what shall we call those resemblances of the
beautiful, which appear such owing to the unfavourable position
of the spectator, whereas if a person had the power of getting a
correct view of works of such magnitude, they would appear not
even like that to which they profess to be like? May we not call
these "appearances," since they appear only and are not
really like?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] There is a great deal of this kind of thing in
painting, and in all imitation.
[Theaet.] Of course.
[Str.] And may we not fairly call the sort of art, which
produces an appearance and not an image, phantastic art?
[Theaet.] Most fairly.
[Str.] These then are the two kinds of image making-the art of
making likenesses, and phantastic or the art of making
appearances?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] I was doubtful before in which of them I should place
the Sophist, nor am I even now able to see clearly; verily he is
a wonderful and inscrutable creature. And now in the cleverest
manner he has got into an impossible place.
[Theaet.] Yes, he has.
[Str.] Do you speak advisedly, or are you carried away at the
moment by the habit of assenting into giving a hasty answer?
[Theaet.] May I ask to what you are referring?
[Str.] My dear friend, we are engaged in a very difficult
speculation-there can be no doubt of that; for how a thing can
appear and seem, and not be, or how a man can say a thing which
is not true, has always been and still remains a very perplexing
question. Can any one say or think that falsehood really exists,
and avoid being caught in a contradiction? Indeed, Theaetetus,
the task is a difficult one.
[Theaet.] Why?
[Str.] He who says that falsehood exists has the audacity to
assert the being of not-being; for this is implied in the
possibility of falsehood. But, my boy, in the days when I was a
boy, the great Parmenides protested against this doctrine, and to
the end of his life he continued to inculcate the same lesson-always
repeating both in verse and out of verse: Keep your mind from
this way of enquiry, for never will you show that not-being is
Such is his testimony, which is confirmed by the very expression
when sifted a little. Would you object to begin with the
consideration of the words themselves?
[Theaet.] Never mind about me; I am only desirous that you
should carry on the argument in the best way, and that you should
take me with you.
[Str.] Very good; and now say, do we venture to utter the
forbidden word "not-being"?
[Theaet.] Certainly we do.
[Str.] Let us be serious then, and consider the question
neither in strife nor play: suppose that one of the hearers of
Parmenides was asked, "To is the term 'not-being' to be
applied?"-do you know what sort of object he would single
out in reply, and what answer he would make to the enquirer?
[Theaet.] That is a difficult question, and one not to be
answered at all by a person like myself.
[Str.] There is at any rate no difficulty in seeing that the
predicate "not-being" is not applicable to any being.
[Theaet.] None, certainly.
[Str.] And if not to being, then not to something.
[Theaet.] Of course not.
[Str.] It is also plain, that in speaking of something we
speak of being, for to speak of an abstract something naked and
isolated from all being is impossible.
[Theaet.] Impossible.
[Str.] You mean by assenting to imply that he who says
something must say some one thing?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] Some in the singular (ti) you would say is the sign of
one, some in the dual (tine) of two, some in the plural (tines)
of many?
[Theaet.] Exactly.
[Str.] Then he who says "not something" must say
absolutely nothing.
[Theaet.] Most assuredly.
[Str.] And as we cannot admit that a man speaks and says
nothing, he who says "not-being" does not speak at all.
[Theaet.] The difficulty of the argument can no further go.
[Str.] Not yet, my friend, is the time for such a word; for
there still remains of all perplexities the first and greatest,
touching the very foundation of the matter.
[Theaet.] What do you mean? Do not be afraid to speak.
[Str.] To that which is, may be attributed some other thing
which is?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] But can anything which is, be attributed to that which
is not?
[Theaet.] Impossible.
[Str.] And all number is to be reckoned among things which
are?
[Theaet.] Yes, surely number, if anything, has a real
existence.
[Str.] Then we must not attempt to attribute to not-being
number either in the singular or plural?
[Theaet.] The argument implies that we should be wrong in
doing so.
[Str.] But how can a man either express in words or even
conceive in thought things which are not or a thing which is not
without number?
[Theaet.] How indeed?
[Str.] When we speak of things which are not attributing
plurality to not-being?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] But, on the other hand, when we say "what is not,"
do we not attribute unity?
[Theaet.] Manifestly.
[Str.] Nevertheless, we maintain that you may not and ought
not to attribute being to not-being?
[Theaet.] Most true.
[Str.] Do you see, then, that not-being in itself can neither
be spoken, uttered, or thought, but that it is unthinkable,
unutterable, unspeakable, indescribable?
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] But, if so, I was wrong in telling you just now that
the difficulty which was coming is the greatest of all.
[Theaet.] What! is there a greater still behind?
[Str.] Well, I am surprised, after what has been said already,
that you do not see the difficulty in which he who would refute
the notion of not-being is involved. For he is compelled to
contradict himself as soon as he makes the attempt.
[Theaet.] What do you mean? Speak more clearly.
[Str.] Do not expect clearness from me. For I, who maintain
that not-being has no part either in the one or many, just now
spoke and am still speaking of not-being as one; for I say "not-being."
Do you understand?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And a little while ago I said that not-being is
unutterable, unspeakable, indescribable: do you follow?
[Theaet.] I do after a fashion.
[Str.] When I introduced the word "is," did I not
contradict what I said before?
[Theaet.] Clearly.
[Str.] And in using the singular verb, did I not speak of not-being
as one?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And when I spoke of not-being as indescribable and
unspeakable and unutterable, in using each of these words in the
singular, did I not refer to not-being as one?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And yet we say that, strictly speaking, it should not
be defined as one or many, and should not even be called "it,"
for the use of the word "it" would imply a form of
unity.
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] How, then, can any one put any faith in me? For now, as
always, I am unequal to the refutation of not-being. And
therefore, as I was saying, do not look to me for the right way
of speaking about not-being; but come, let us try the experiment
with you.
[Theaet.] What do you mean?
[Str.] Make a noble effort, as becomes youth, and endeavour
with all your might to speak of not-being in a right manner,
without introducing into it either existence or unity or
plurality.
[Theaet.] It would be a strange boldness in me which would
attempt the task when I see you thus discomfited.
[Str.] Say no more of ourselves; but until we find some one or
other who can speak of not-being without number, we must
acknowledge that the Sophist is a clever rogue who will not be
got out of his hole.
[Theaet.] Most true.
[Str.] And if we say to him that he professes an art of making
appearances, he will grapple with us and retort our argument upon
ourselves; and when we call him an image-maker he will say,
"Pray what do you mean at all by an image?" -and I
should like to know, Theaetetus, how we can possibly answer the
younker's question?
[Theaet.] We shall doubtless tell him of the images which are
reflected in water or in mirrors; also of sculptures, pictures,
and other duplicates.
[Str.] I see, Theaetetus, that you have never made the
acquaintance of the Sophist.
[Theaet.] Why do you think so?
[Str.] He will make believe to have his eyes shut, or to have
none.
[Theaet.] What do you mean?
[Str.] When you tell him of something existing in a mirror, or
in sculpture, and address him as though he had eyes, he will
laugh you to scorn, and will pretend that he knows nothing of
mirrors and streams, or of sight at all; he will say that he is
asking about an idea.
[Theaet.] What can he mean?
[Str.] The common notion pervading all these objects, which
you speak of as many, and yet call by the single name of image,
as though it were the unity under which they were all included.
How will you maintain your ground against him?
[Theaet.] How. Stranger, can I describe an image except as
something fashioned in the likeness of the true?
[Str.] And do you mean this something to be some other true
thing, or what do you mean?
[Theaet.] Certainly not another true thing, but only a
resemblance.
[Str.] And you mean by true that which really is?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And the not true is that which is the opposite of the
true?
[Theaet.] Exactly.
[Str.] A resemblance, then, is not really real, if, as you
say, not true?
[Theaet.] Nay, but it is in a certain sense.
[Str.] You mean to say, not in a true sense?
[Theaet.] Yes; it is in reality only an image.
[Str.] Then what we call an image is in reality really unreal.
[Theaet.] In what a strange complication of being and not-being
we are involved!
[Str.] Strange! I should think so. See how, by his
reciprocation of opposites, the many-headed Sophist has compelled
us, quite against our will, to admit the existence of not-being.
[Theaet.] Yes, indeed, I see.
[Str.] The difficulty is how to define his art without falling
into a contradiction.
[Theaet.] How do you mean? And where does the danger lie?
[Str.] When we say that he deceives us with an illusion, and
that his art is illusory, do we mean that our soul is led by his
art to think falsely, or what do we mean?
[Theaet.] There is nothing else to be said.
[Str.] Again, false opinion is that form of opinion which
thinks the opposite of the truth:-You would assent?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] You mean to say that false opinion thinks what is not?
[Theaet.] Of course.
[Str.] Does false opinion think that things which are not are
not, or that in a certain sense they are?
[Theaet.] Things that are not must be imagined to exist in a
certain sense, if any degree of falsehood is to be possible.
[Str.] And does not false opinion also think that things which
most certainly exist do not exist at all?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And here, again, is falsehood?
[Theaet.] Falsehood-yes.
[Str.] And in like manner, a false proposition will be deemed
to be one which are, the nonexistence of things which are, and
the existence of things which are not.
[Theaet.] There is no other way in which a false proposition
can arise.
[Str.] There is not; but the Sophist will deny these
statements. And indeed how can any rational man assent to them,
when the very expressions which we have just used were before
acknowledged by us to be unutterable, unspeakable, indescribable,
unthinkable? Do you see his point, Theaetetus?
[Theaet.] Of course he will say that we are contradicting
ourselves when we hazard the assertion, that falsehood exists in
opinion and in words; for in maintaining this, we are compelled
over and over again to assert being of not-being, which we
admitted just now to be an utter impossibility.
[Str.] How well you remember! And now it is high time to hold
a consultation as to what we ought to do about the Sophist; for
if we persist in looking for him in the class of false workers
and magicians, you see that the handles for objection and the
difficulties which will arise are very numerous and obvious.
[Theaet.] They are indeed.
[Str.] We have gone through but a very small portion of them,
and they are really infinite.
[Theaet.] If that is the case, we cannot possibly catch the
Sophist.
[Str.] Shall we then be so faint-hearted as to give him up?
[Theaet.] Certainly not, I should say, if we can get the
slightest hold upon him.
[Str.] Will you then forgive me, and, as your words imply, not
be altogether displeased if I flinch a little from the grasp of
such a sturdy argument?
[Theaet.] To be sure I will.
[Str.] I have a yet more urgent request to make.
[Theaet.] Which is-?
[Str.] That you will promise not to regard me as a parricide.
[Theaet.] And why?
[Str.] Because, in self-defence, I must test the philosophy of
my father Parmenides, and try to prove by main force, that in a
certain sense not-being is, and that being, on the other hand, is
not.
[Theaet.] Some attempt of the kind is clearly needed.
[Str.] Yes, a blind man, as they say, might see that, and,
unless these questions are decided in one way or another, no one
when he speaks false words, or false opinion, or idols, or images
or imitations or appearances, or about the arts which are
concerned with them; can avoid falling into ridiculous
contradictions.
[Theaet.] Most true.
[Str.] And therefore I must venture to lay hands on my
father's argument; for if I am to be over-scrupulous, I shall
have to give the matter up.
[Theaet.] Nothing in the world should ever induce us to do so.
[Str.] I have a third little request which I wish to make.
[Theaet.] What is it?
[Str.] You heard me-say what-I have always felt and still feel-that
I have no heart for this argument?
[Theaet.] I did.
[Str.] I tremble at the thought of what I have said, and
expect that you will deem me mad, when you hear of my sudden
changes and shiftings; let me therefore observe, that I am
examining the question entirely out of regard for you.
[Theaet.] There is no reason for you to fear that I shall
impute any impropriety to you, if you attempt this refutation and
proof; take heart, therefore, and proceed.
[Str.] And where shall I begin the perilous enterprise? I
think that the road which I must take is-
[Theaet.] Which?-Let me hear.
[Str.] I think that we had better, first of all, consider the
points which at present are regard as self-evident, lest we may
have fallen into some confusion, and be too ready to assent to
one another, fancying that we are quite clear about them.
[Theaet.] Say more distinctly what you mean.
[Str.] I think that Parmenides, and all ever yet undertook to
determine the number and nature of existences, talked to us in
rather a light and easy strain.
[Theaet.] How?
[Str.] As if we had been children, to whom they repeated each
his own mythus or story;-one said that there were three
principles, and that at one time there was war between certain of
them; and then again there was peace, and they were married and
begat children, and brought them up; and another spoke of two
principles,-a moist and a dry, or a hot and a cold, and made them
marry and cohabit. The Eleatics, however, in our part of the
world, say that things are many in name, but in nature one; this
is their mythus, which goes back to Xenophanes, and is even older.
Then there are Ionian, and in more recent times Sicilian muses,
who have arrived at the conclusion that to unite the two
principles is safer, and to say that being is one and many, and
that these are held together by enmity and friendship, ever
parting, ever meeting, as the-severer Muses assert, while the
gentler ones do not insist on the perpetual strife and peace, but
admit a relaxation and alternation of them; peace and unity
sometimes prevailing under the sway of Aphrodite, and then again
plurality and war, by reason of a principle of strife. Whether
any of them spoke the truth in all this is hard to determine;
besides, antiquity and famous men should have reverence, and not
be liable to accusations; so serious; Yet one thing may be said
of them without offence-
[Theaet.] What thing?
[Str.] That they went on their several ways disdaining to
notice people like ourselves; they did not care whether they took
us with them, or left us behind them.
[Theaet.] How do you mean?
[Str.] I mean to say, that when they talk of one, two, or more
elements, which are or have become or are becoming, or again of
heat mingling with cold, assuming in some other part of their
works separations and mixtures,-tell me, Theaetetus, do you
understand what they mean by these expressions? When I was a
younger man, I used to fancy that I understood quite well what
was meant by the term "not-being," which is our present
subject of dispute; and now you see in what a fix we are about it.
[Theaet.] I see.
[Str.] And very likely we have been getting into the same
perplexity about "being," and yet may fancy that when
anybody utters the word, we understand him quite easily, although
we do not know about not-being. But we may be; equally ignorant
of both.
[Theaet.] I dare say.
[Str.] And the same may be said of all the terms just
mentioned.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] The consideration of most of them may be deferred; but
we had better now discuss the chief captain and leader of them.
[Theaet.] Of what are you speaking? You clearly think that we
must first investigate what people mean by the word "being."
[Str.] You follow close at heels, Theaetetus. For the right
method, I conceive, will be to call into our presence the
dualistic philosophers and to interrogate them. "Come,"
we will say, "Ye, who affirm that hot and cold or any other
two principles are the universe, what is this term which you
apply to both of them, and what do you mean when you say that
both and each of them 'are'? How are we to understand the word
'are'? Upon your view, are we to suppose that there is a third
principle over and above the other two-three in all, and not two?
For clearly you cannot say that one of the two principles is
being, and yet attribute being equally to both of them; for, if
you did, whichever of the two is identified with being, will
comprehend the other; and so they will be one and not two."
[Theaet.] Very true.
[Str.] But perhaps you mean to give the name of "being"
to both of them together?
[Theaet.] Quite likely.
[Str.] "Then, friends," we shall reply to them,
"the answer is plainly that the two will still be resolved
into one."
[Theaet.] Most true.
[Str.] "Since then, we are in a difficulty, please to
tell us what you mean, when you speak of being; for there can be
no doubt that you always from the first understood your own
meaning, whereas we once thought that we understood you, but now
we are in a great strait. Please to begin by explaining this
matter to us, and let us no longer fancy that we understand you,
when we entirely misunderstand you." There will be no
impropriety in our demanding an answer to this question, either
of the dualists or of the pluralists?
[Theaet.] Certainly not.
[Str.] And what about the assertors of the oneness of the all-must
we not endeavour to ascertain from them what they mean by "being"?
[Theaet.] By all means.
[Str.] Then let them answer this question: One, you say, alone
is? "Yes," they will reply.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And there is something which you call "being"?
[Theaet.] "Yes."
[Str.] And is being the same as one, and do you apply two
names to the same thing?
[Theaet.] What will be their answer, Stranger?
[Str.] It is clear, Theaetetus, that he who asserts the unity
of being will find a difficulty in answering this or any other
question.
[Theaet.] Why so?
[Str.] To admit of two names, and to affirm that there is
nothing but unity, is surely ridiculous?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And equally irrational to admit that a name is
anything?
[Theaet.] How so?
[Str.] To distinguish the name from the thing, implies duality.
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And yet he who identifies the name with the thing will
be compelled to say that it is the name of nothing, or if he says
that it is the name of something, even then the name will only be
the name of a name, and of nothing else.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And the one will turn out to be only one of one, and
being absolute unity, will represent a mere name.
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And would they say that the whole is other than the one
that is, or the same with it?
[Theaet.] To be sure they would, and they actually say so.
[Str.] If being is a whole, as Parmenides sings,- Every way
like unto the fullness of a well-rounded sphere, Evenly balanced
from the centre on every side, And must needs be neither greater
nor less in any way, Neither on this side nor on that- then being
has a centre and extremes, and, having these, must also have
parts.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] Yet that which has parts may have the attribute of
unity in all the parts, and in this way being all and a whole,
may be one?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] But that of which this is the condition cannot be
absolute unity?
[Theaet.] Why not?
[Str.] Because, according to right reason, that which is truly
one must be affirmed to be absolutely indivisible.
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] But this indivisible, if made up of many parts, will
contradict reason.
[Theaet.] I understand.
[Str.] Shall we say that being is one and a whole, because it
has the attribute of unity? Or shall we say that being is not a
whole at all?
[Theaet.] That is a hard alternative to offer.
[Str.] Most true; for being, having in a certain sense the
attribute of one, is yet proved not to be the same as one, and
the all is therefore more than one.
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And yet if being be not a whole, through having the
attribute of unity, and there be such a thing as an absolute
whole, being lacks something of its own nature?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] Upon this view, again, being, having a defect of being,
will become not-being?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And, again, the all becomes more than one, for being
and the whole will each have their separate nature.
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] But if the whole does not exist at all, all the
previous difficulties remain the same, and there will be the
further difficulty, that besides having no being, being can never
have come into being.
[Theaet.] Why so?
[Str.] Because that which comes into being always comes into
being as a whole, so that he who does not give whole a place
among beings, cannot speak either of essence or generation as
existing.
[Theaet.] Yes, that certainly appears to be true.
[Str.] Again; how can that which is not a whole have any
quantity? For that which is of a certain quantity must
necessarily be the whole of that quantity.
[Theaet.] Exactly.
[Str.] And there will be innumerable other points, each of
them causing infinite trouble to him who says that being is
either, one or two.
[Theaet.] The difficulties which are dawning upon us prove
this; for one objection connects with another, and they are
always involving what has preceded in a greater and worse
perplexity.
[Str.] We are far from having exhausted the more exact
thinkers who treat of being and not-being. But let us be content
to leave them, and proceed to view those who speak less
precisely; and we shall find as the result of all, that the
nature of being is quite as difficult to comprehend as that of
not-being.
[Theaet.] Then now we will go to the others.
[Str.] There appears to be a sort of war of Giants and Gods
going on amongst them; they are fighting with one another about
the nature of essence.
[Theaet.] How is that?
[Str.] Some of them are dragging down all things from heaven
and from the unseen to earth, and they literally grasp in their
hands rocks and oaks; of these they lay hold, and obstinately
maintain, that the things only which can be touched or handled
have being or essence, because they define being and body as one,
and if any one else says that what is not a body exists they
altogether despise him, and will hear of nothing but body.
[Theaet.] I have often met with such men, and terrible fellows
they are.
[Str.] And that is the reason why their opponents cautiously
defend themselves from above, out of an unseen world, mightily
contending that true essence consists of certain intelligible and
incorporeal ideas; the bodies of the materialists, which by them
are maintained to be the very truth, they break up into little
bits by their arguments, and affirm them to be, not essence, but
generation and motion. Between the two armies, Theaetetus, there
is always an endless conflict raging concerning these matters.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] Let us ask each party in turn, to give an account of
that which they call essence.
[Theaet.] How shall we get it out of them?
[Str.] With those who make being to consist in ideas, there
will be less difficulty, for they are civil people enough; but
there will be very great difficulty, or rather an absolute
impossibility, in getting an opinion out of those who drag
everything down to matter. Shall I tell you what we must do?
[Theaet.] What?
[Str.] Let us, if we can, really improve them; but if this is
not possible, let us imagine them to be better than they are, and
more willing to answer in accordance with the rules of argument,
and then their opinion will be more worth having; for that which
better men acknowledge has more weight than that which is
acknowledged by inferior men. Moreover we are no respecters of
persons, but seekers after time.
[Theaet.] Very good.
[Str.] Then now, on the supposition that they are improved,
let us ask them to state their views, and do you interpret them.
[Theaet.] Agreed.
[Str.] Let them say whether they would admit that there is
such a thing as a mortal animal.
[Theaet.] Of course they would.
[Str.] And do they not acknowledge this to be a body having a
soul?
[Theaet.] Certainly they do.
[Str.] Meaning to say the soul is something which exists?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And do they not say that one soul is just, and another
unjust, and that one soul is wise, and another foolish?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And that the just and wise soul becomes just and wise
by the possession of justice and wisdom, and the opposite under
opposite circumstances?
[Theaet.] Yes, they do.
[Str.] But surely that which may be present or may be absent
will be admitted by them to exist?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And, allowing that justice, wisdom, the other virtues,
and their opposites exist, as well as a soul in which they
inhere, do they affirm any of them to be visible and tangible, or
are they all invisible?
[Theaet.] They would say that hardly any of them are visible.
[Str.] And would they say that they are corporeal?
[Theaet.] They would distinguish: the soul would be said by
them to have a body; but as to the other qualities of justice,
wisdom, and the like, about which you asked, they would not
venture either to deny their existence, or to maintain that they
were all corporeal.
[Str.] Verily, Theaetetus, I perceive a great improvement in
them; the real aborigines, children of the dragon's teeth, would
have been deterred by no shame at all, but would have obstinately
asserted that nothing is which they are not able to squeeze in
their hands.
[Theaet.] That is pretty much their notion.
[Str.] Let us push the question; for if they will admit that
any, even the smallest particle of being, is incorporeal, it is
enough; they must then say what that nature is which is common to
both the corporeal and incorporeal, and which they have in their
mind's eye when they say of both of them that they "are."
Perhaps they may be in a difficulty; and if this is the case,
there is a possibility that they may accept a notion of ours
respecting the nature of being, having nothing of their own to
offer.
[Theaet.] What is the notion? Tell me, and we shall soon see.
[Str.] My notion would be, that anything which possesses any
sort of power to affect another, or to be affected by another, if
only for a single moment, however trifling the cause and however
slight the effect, has real existence; and I hold that the
definition of being is simply power of
[Theaet.] They accept your suggestion, having nothing better
of their own to offer.
[Str.] Very good; perhaps we, as well as they, may one day
change our minds; but, for the present, this may be regarded as
the understanding which is established with them.
[Theaet.] Agreed.
[Str.] Let us now go to the friends of ideas; of their
opinions, too, you shall be the interpreter.
[Theaet.] I will.
[Str.] To them we say-You would distinguish essence from
generation?
[Theaet.] "Yes," they reply.
[Str.] And you would allow that we participate in generation,
with the body, and through perception, but we participate with
the soul through in true essence; and essence you would affirm to
be always the same and immutable, whereas generation or becoming
varies?
[Theaet.] Yes; that is what we should affirm.
[Str.] Well, fair sirs, we say to them, what is this
participation, which you assert of both? Do you agree with our
recent definition?
[Theaet.] What definition?
[Str.] We said that being was an active or passive energy,
arising out of a certain power which proceeds from elements
meeting with one another. Perhaps your cars, Theaetetus, may fail
to catch their answer, which I recognize because I have been
accustomed to hear it.
[Theaet.] And what is their answer?
[Str.] They deny the truth of what we were just now, saying to
the aborigines about existence.
[Theaet.] What was that?
[Str.] Any power of doing or suffering in a degree however
slight was held by us to be a sufficient definition of being?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] They deny this, and say that the power of doing or
suffering is confined to becoming, and that neither power is
applicable to being.
[Theaet.] And is there not some truth in what they say?
[Str.] Yes; but our reply will be that we want to ascertain
from them more distinctly, whether they further admit that the
soul knows, and that being or essence is known.
[Theaet.] There can be no doubt that they say so.
[Str.] And is knowing and being known, doing or suffering, or
both, or is the one doing and the other suffering, or has neither
any share in either?
[Theaet.] Clearly, neither has any share in either; for if
they say anything else, they will contradict themselves.
[Str.] I understand; but they will allow that if to know is
active, then, of course, to be known is passive. And on this view
being, in so far as it is known, is acted upon by knowledge, and
is therefore in motion; for that which is in a state of rest
cannot be acted upon, as we affirm.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And, O heavens, can we ever be made to believe that
motion and life and soul and mind are not present with perfect
being? Can we imagine that, being is devoid of life and mind, and
exists in awful unmeaningness an everlasting fixture?
[Theaet.] That would be a dreadful thing to admit, Stranger.
[Str.] But shall we say that has mind and not life?
[Theaet.] How is that possible?
[Str.] Or shall we say that both inhere in perfect being, but
that it has no soul which contains them?
[Theaet.] And in what other way can it contain them?
[Str.] Or that being has mind and life and soul, but although
endowed with soul remains absolutely unmoved?
[Theaet.] All three suppositions appear to me to be irrational.
[Str.] Under being, then, we must include motion, and that
which is moved.
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] Then, Theaetetus, our inference is, that if there is no
motion, neither is there any mind anywhere, or about anything or
belonging to any one.
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] And yet this equally follows, if we grant that all
things are in motion-upon this view too mind has no existence.
[Theaet.] How so?
[Str.] Do you think that sameness of condition and mode and
subject could ever exist without a principle of rest?
[Theaet.] Certainly not.
[Str.] Can you see how without them mind could exist, or come
into existence anywhere?
[Theaet.] No.
[Str.] And surely contend we must in every possible way
against him who would annihilate knowledge and reason and mind,
and yet ventures to speak confidently about anything.
[Theaet.] Yes, with all our might.
[Str.] Then the philosopher, who has the truest reverence for
these qualities, cannot possibly accept the notion of those who
say that the whole is at rest, either as unity or in many forms:
and he will be utterly deaf to those who assert universal motion.
As children say entreatingly "Give us both." so he will
include both the moveable and immoveable in his definition of
being and all.
[Theaet.] Most true.
[Str.] And now, do we seem to have gained a fair notion of
being?
[Theaet.] Yes truly.
[Str.] Alas, Theaetetus, methinks that we are now only
beginning to see the real difficulty of the enquiry into the
nature of it.
[Theaet.] What do you mean?
[Str.] O my friend, do you not see that nothing can exceed out
ignorance, and yet we fancy that we are saying something good?
[Theaet.] I certainly thought that we were; and I do not at
all understand how we never found out our desperate case.
[Str.] Reflect: after having made, these admissions, may we
not be justly asked, the same questions which we ourselves were
asking of those who said that all was hot and cold?
[Theaet.] What were they? Will you recall them to my mind?
[Str.] To be sure, I will remind you of them, by putting the
same questions, to you which I did to them, and then we shall get
on.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] Would you not say that rest and motion are in the most
entire opposition to one another?
[Theaet.] Of course.
[Str.] And yet you would say that both and either of them
equally are?
[Theaet.] I should.
[Str.] And when you admit that both or either of them are, do
you mean to say that both or either, of them are in motion?
[Theaet.] Certainly not.
[Str.] Or do you wish to imply that they are both at rest,
when you say that they are?
[Theaet.] Of course not.
[Str.] Then you conceive of being as some third and distinct
nature, under which rest and motion are alike included; and,
observing that they both participate in being, you declare that
they are.
[Theaet.] Truly we seem to have an intimation that being is
some third thing, when we say that rest and motion are.
[Str.] Then being is not the combination of rest and motion,
but something different from them.
[Theaet.] So it would appear.
[Str.] Being, then, according to its own nature, is neither in
motion nor at rest.
[Theaet.] That is very much the truth.
[Str.] Where, then, is a man to look for help who would have
any clear or fixed notion of being in his mind?
[Theaet.] Where, indeed?
[Str.] I scarcely think that he can look anywhere; for that
which is not in motion must be at rest, and again, that which is
not at rest must be in motion; but being is placed outside of
both these classes. Is this possible?
[Theaet.] Utterly impossible.
[Str.] Here, then, is another thing which we ought to bear in
mind.
[Theaet.] What?
[Str.] When we were asked to what we were to assign the
appellation of not-being, we were in the greatest difficulty:-do
you remember?
[Theaet.] To be sure.
[Str.] And are we not now in as a difficulty about being?
[Theaet.] I should say, Stranger, that we are in one which is,
if possible, even greater.
[Str.] Then let us acknowledge the difficulty; and as being
and not-being are involved in the same perplexity, there is hope
that when the one appears more or less distinctly, the other will
equally appear; and if we are able to see neither there may still
be a chance of steering our way in between them, without any
great discredit.
[Theaet.] Very good.
[Str.] Let us enquire, then, how we come to predicate many
names of the same thing.
[Theaet.] Give an example.
[Str.] I mean that we speak of man, for example, under many
names-that we attribute to him colours and forms and magnitudes
and virtues and vices, in all of which instances and in ten
thousand others we not only speak of him as a man, but also as
good, and having number-less other attributes, and in the same
way anything else which we originally supposed to be one is
described by us as many, and under many names.
[Theaet.] That is true.
[Str.] And thus we provide a rich feast for tyros, whether
young or old; for there is nothing easier than to argue that the
one cannot be many, or the many one; and great is their delight
in denying that a man is good; for man, they insist, is man and
good is good. I dare say that you have met with persons who take-an
interest in such matters-they are often elderly men, whose meagre
sense is thrown into amazement by these discoveries of theirs,
which they believe to be the height of wisdom.
[Theaet.] Certainly, I have.
[Str.] Then, not to exclude any one who has ever speculated at
all upon the nature of being, let us put our questions to them as
well as to our former friends.
[Theaet.] What questions?
[Str.] Shall we refuse to attribute being to motion and rest,
or anything to anything, and assume that they do not mingle, and
are incapable of participating in one another? Or shall we gather
all into one class of things communicable with one another? Or
are some things communicable and others not?-Which of these
alternatives, Theaetetus, will they prefer?
[Theaet.] I have nothing to answer on their behalf. Suppose
that you take all these hypotheses in turn, and see what are the
consequences which follow from each of them.
[Str.] Very good, and first let us assume them to say that
nothing is capable of participating in anything else in any
respect; in that case rest and motion cannot participate in being
at all.
[Theaet.] They cannot.
[Str.] But would either of them be if not participating in
being?
[Theaet.] No.
[Str.] Then by this admission everything is instantly
overturned, as well the doctrine of universal motion as of
universal rest, and also the doctrine of those who distribute
being into immutable and everlasting kinds; for all these add on
a notion of being, some affirming that things "are"
truly in motion, and others that they "are" truly at
rest.
[Theaet.] Just so.
[Str.] Again, those who would at one time compound, and at
another resolve all things, whether making them into one and out
of one creating infinity, or dividing them into finite clements,
and forming compounds out of these; whether they suppose the
processes of creation to be successive or continuous, would be
talking nonsense in all this if there were no admixture.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] Most ridiculous of all will the men themselves be who
want to carry out the argument and yet forbid us to call
anything, because participating in some affection from another,
by the name of that other.
[Theaet.] Why so?
[Str.] Why, because they are compelled to use the words "to
be," "apart," "from others. "in itself,"
and ten thousand more, which they cannot give up, but must make
the connecting links of discourse; and therefore they do not
require to be refuted by others, but their enemy, as the saying
is, inhabits the same house with them; they are always carrying
about with them an adversary, like the wonderful ventriloquist,
Eurycles, who out of their own bellies audibly contradicts them.
[Theaet.] Precisely so; a very true and exact illustration.
[Str.] And now, if we suppose that all things have the power
of communion with one another -what will follow?
[Theaet.] Even I can solve that riddle.
[Str.] How?
[Theaet.] Why, because motion itself would be at rest, and
rest again in motion, if they could be attributed to one another.
[Str.] But this is utterly impossible.
[Theaet.] Of course.
[Str.] Then only the third hypothesis remains.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] For, surely, either all things have communion with all;
or nothing with any other thing; or some things communicate with
some things and others not.
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And two out of these three suppositions have been found
to be impossible.
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] Every one then, who desires to answer truly, will adopt
the third and remaining hypothesis of the communion of some with
some.
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] This communion of some with some may be illustrated by
the case of letters; for some letters do not fit each other,
while others do.
[Theaet.] Of course.
[Str.] And the vowels, especially, are a sort of bond which
pervades all the other letters, so that without a vowel one
consonant cannot be joined to another.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] But does every one know what letters will unite with
what? Or is art required in order to do so?
[Theaet.] What is required.
[Str.] What art?
[Theaet.] The art of grammar.
[Str.] And is not this also true of sounds high and low?-Is
not he who has the art to know what sounds mingle, a musician,
and he who is ignorant, not a musician?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And we shall find this to be generally true of art or
the absence of art.
[Theaet.] Of course.
[Str.] And as classes are admitted by us in like manner to be
some of them capable and others incapable of intermixture, must
not he who would rightly show what kinds will unite and what will
not, proceed by the help of science in the path of argument? And
will he not ask if the connecting links are universal, and so
capable of intermixture with all things; and again, in divisions,
whether there are not other universal classes, which make them
possible?
[Theaet.] To be sure he will require science, and, if I am not
mistaken, the very greatest of all sciences.
[Str.] How are we to call it? By Zeus, have we not lighted
unwittingly upon our free and noble science, and in looking for
the Sophist have we not entertained the philosopher unawares?
[Theaet.] What do you mean?
[Str.] Should we not say that the division according to
classes, which neither makes the same other, nor makes other the
same, is the business of the dialectical science?
[Theaet.] That is what we should say.
[Str.] Then, surely, he who can divide rightly is able to see
clearly one form pervading a scattered multitude, and many
different forms contained under one higher form; and again, one
form knit together into a single whole and pervading many such
wholes, and many forms, existing only in separation and isolation.
This is the knowledge of classes which determines where they can
have communion with one another and where not.
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] And the art of dialectic would be attributed by you
only to the philosopher pure and true?
[Theaet.] Who but he can be worthy?
[Str.] In this region we shall always discover the
philosopher, if we look for him; like the Sophist, he is not
easily discovered, but for a different reason.
[Theaet.] For what reason?
[Str.] Because the Sophist runs away into the darkness of not-being,
in which he has learned by habit to feel about, and cannot be
discovered because of the darkness of the place. is not that
true?
[Theaet.] It seems to be so.
[Str.] And the philosopher, always holding converse through
reason with the idea of being, is also dark from excess of light;
for the souls of the many have no eye which can endure the vision
of the divine.
[Theaet.] Yes; that seems to be quite as true as the other.
[Str.] Well, the philosopher may hereafter be more fully
considered by us, if we are disposed; but the Sophist must
clearly not be allowed to escape until we have had a good look at
him.
[Theaet.] Very good.
[Str.] Since, then, we are agreed that some classes have a
communion with one another, and others not, and some have
communion with a few and others with many, and that there is no
reason why some should not have universal communion with all, let
us now pursue the enquiry, as the argument suggests, not in
relation to all ideas, lest the multitude of them should confuse
us, but let us select a few of those which are reckoned to be the
principal ones, and consider their several natures and their
capacity of communion with one another, in order that if we are
not able to apprehend with perfect clearness the notions of being
and not-being, we may at least not fall short in the
consideration of them, so far as they come within the scope of
the present enquiry, if peradventure we may be allowed to assert
the reality of not-being, and yet escape unscathed.
[Theaet.] We must do so.
[Str.] The most important of all the genera are those which we
were just now mentioning-being and rest and motion.
[Theaet.] Yes, by far.
[Str.] And two of these are, as we affirm, incapable of
communion with one another.
[Theaet.] Quite incapable.
[Str.] Whereas being surely has communion with both of them,
for both of them are?
[Theaet.] Of course.
[Str.] That makes up three of them.
[Theaet.] To be sure.
[Str.] And each of them is other than the remaining two, but
the same with itself.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] But then, what is the meaning of these two words,
"same" and "other"? Are they two new kinds
other than the three, and yet always of necessity intermingling
with them, and are we to have five kinds instead of three; or
when we speak of the same and other, are we unconsciously
speaking of one of the three first kinds?
[Theaet.] Very likely we are.
[Str.] But, surely, motion and rest are neither the other nor
the same.
[Theaet.] How is that?
[Str.] Whatever we attribute to motion and rest in common,
cannot be either of them.
[Theaet.] Why not?
[Str.] Because motion would be at rest and rest in motion, for
either of them, being predicated of both, will compel the other
to change into the opposite of its own nature, because partaking
of its opposite.
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] Yet they surely both partake of the same and of the
other?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] Then we must not assert that motion, any more than
rest, is either the same or the other.
[Theaet.] No; we must not.
[Str.] But are we to conceive that being and the same are
identical?
[Theaet.] Possibly.
[Str.] But if they are identical, then again in saying that
motion and rest have being, we should also be saying that they
are the same.
[Theaet.] Which surely cannot be.
[Str.] Then being and same cannot be one.
[Theaet.] Scarcely.
[Str.] Then we may suppose the same to be a fourth class,
which is now to be added to the three others.
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] And shall we call the other a fifth class? Or should we
consider being and other to be two names of the same class?
[Theaet.] Very likely.
[Str.] But you would agree, if I am not mistaken, that
existences are relative as well as absolute?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And the other is always relative to other?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] But this would not be the case unless being and the
other entirely differed; for, if the other, like being, were
absolute as well as relative, then there would have been a kind
of other which was not other than other. And now we find that
what is other must of necessity be what it is in relation to some
other.
[Theaet.] That is the true state of the case.
[Str.] Then we must admit the other as the fifth of our
selected classes.
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And the fifth class pervades all classes, for they all
differ from one another, not by reason of their own nature, but
because they partake of the idea of the other.
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] Then let us now put the case with reference to each of
the five.
[Theaet.] How?
[Str.] First there is motion, which we affirm to be absolutely
"other" than rest: what else can we say?
[Theaet.] It is so.
[Str.] And therefore is not rest.
[Theaet.] Certainly not.
[Str.] And yet is, because partaking of being.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] Again, motion is other than the same?
[Theaet.] Just so.
[Str.] And is therefore not the same.
[Theaet.] It is not.
[Str.] Yet, surely, motion is the same, because all things
partake of the same.
[Theaet.] Very true.
[Str.] Then we must admit, and not object to say, that motion
is the same and is not the same, for we do not apply the terms
"same" and "not the same," in the same sense;
but we call it the "same," in relation to itself,
because partaking of the same; and not the same, because having
communion with the other, it is thereby severed from the same,
and has become not that but other, and is therefore rightly
spoken of as "not the same."
[Theaet.] To be sure.
[Str.] And if absolute motion in any point of view partook of
rest, there would be no absurdity in calling motion stationary.
[Theaet.] Quite right, -that is, on the supposition that some
classes mingle with one another, and others not.
[Str.] That such a communion of kinds is according to nature,
we had already proved before we arrived at this part of our
discussion.
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] Let us proceed, then. we not say that motion is other
than the other, having been also proved by us to be other than
the same and other than rest?
[Theaet.] That is certain.
[Str.] Then, according to this view, motion is other and also
not other?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] What is the next step? Shall we say that motion is
other than the three and not other than the fourth-for we agreed
that there are five classes about and in the sphere of which we
proposed to make enquiry?
[Theaet.] Surely we cannot admit that the number is less than
it appeared to be just now.
[Str.] Then we may without fear contend that motion is other
than being?
[Theaet.] Without the least fear.
[Str.] The plain result is that motion, since it partakes of
being, really is and also is not?
[Theaet.] Nothing can be plainer.
[Str.] Then not-being necessarily exists in the case of motion
and of every class; for the nature of the other entering into
them all, makes each of them other than being, and so non-existent;
and therefore of all of them, in like manner, we may truly say
that they are not-and again, inasmuch as they partake of being,
that they are and are existent.
[Theaet.] So we may assume.
[Str.] Every class, then, has plurality of being and infinity
of not-being.
[Theaet.] So we must infer.
[Str.] And being itself may be said to be other than the other
kinds.
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] Then we may infer that being is not, in respect of as
many other things as there are; for not-being these it is itself
one, and is: not the other things, which are infinite in number.
[Theaet.] That is not far from the truth.
[Str.] And we must not quarrel with this result, since it is
of the nature of classes to have communion with one another; and
if any one denies our present statement [viz., that being is not,
etc.], let him first argue with our former conclusion [i.e.,
respecting the communion of ideas], and then he may proceed to
argue with what follows.
[Theaet.] Nothing can be fairer.
[Str.] Let me ask you to consider a further question.
[Theaet.] What question?
[Str.] When we speak of not-being, we speak, I suppose, not of
something opposed to being, but only different.
[Theaet.] What do you mean?
[Str.] When we speak of something as not great, does the
expression seem to you to imply what is little any more than what
is equal?
[Theaet.] Certainly not.
[Str.] The negative particles, ou and me, when prefixed to
words, do not imply opposition, but only difference from the
words, or more correctly from the things represented by the
words, which follow them.
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] There is another point to be considered, if you do not
object.
[Theaet.] What is it?
[Str.] The nature of the other appears to me to be divided
into fractions like knowledge.
[Theaet.] How so?
[Str.] Knowledge, like the other, is one; and yet the various
parts of knowledge have each of them their own particular name,
and hence there are many arts and kinds of knowledge.
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] And is not the case the same with the parts of the
other, which is also one?
[Theaet.] Very likely; but will you tell me how?
[Str.] There is some part of the other which is opposed to the
beautiful?
[Theaet.] There is.
[Str.] Shall we say that this has or has not a name?
[Theaet.] It has; for whatever we call not beautiful is other
than the beautiful, not than something else.
[Str.] And now tell me another thing.
[Theaet.] What?
[Str.] Is the not-beautiful anything but this-an existence
parted off from a certain kind of existence, and again from
another point of view opposed to an existing something?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] Then the not-beautiful turns out to be the opposition
of being to being?
[Theaet.] Very true.
[Str.] But upon this view, is the beautiful a more real and
the not-beautiful a less real existence?
[Theaet.] Not at all.
[Str.] And the not-great may be said to exist, equally with
the great?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And, in the same way, the just must be placed in the
same category with the not-just the one cannot be said to have
any more existence than the other.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] The same may be said of other things; seeing that the
nature of the other has a real existence, the parts of this
nature must equally be supposed to exist.
[Theaet.] Of course.
[Str.] Then, as would appear, the opposition of a part of the
other, and of a part of being, to one another, is, if I may
venture to say so, as truly essence as being itself, and implies
not the opposite of being, but only what is other than being.
[Theaet.] Beyond question.
[Str.] What then shall we call it?
[Theaet.] Clearly, not-being; and this is the very nature for
which the Sophist compelled us to search.
[Str.] And has not this, as you were saying, as real an
existence as any other class? May I not say with confidence that
not-being has an assured existence, and a nature of its own? just
as the great was found to be great and the beautiful beautiful,
and the not-great not-great, and the not-beautiful not-beautiful,
in the same manner not-being has been found to be and is not-being,
and is to be reckoned one among the many classes of being. Do
you, Theaetetus, still feel any doubt of this?
[Theaet.] None whatever.
[Str.] Do you observe that our scepticism has carried us
beyond the range of Parmenides' prohibition?
[Theaet.] In what?
[Str.] We have advanced to a further point, and shown him more
than he for bad us to investigate.
[Theaet.] How is that?
[Str.] Why, because he says- Not-being never is, and do thou
keep thy thoughts from this way of enquiry.
[Theaet.] Yes, he says so.
[Str.] Whereas, we have not only proved that things which are
not are, but we have shown what form of being not-being is; for
we have shown that the nature of the other is, and is distributed
over all things in their relations to one another, and whatever
part of the other is contrasted with being, this is precisely
what we have ventured to call not-being.
[Theaet.] And surely, Stranger, we were quite right.
[Str.] Let not any one say, then, that while affirming the
opposition of not-being to being, we still assert the being of
not-being; for as to whether there is an opposite of being, to
that enquiry we have long said good-bye-it may or may not be, and
may or may not be capable of definition. But as touching our
present account of not-being, let a man either convince us of
error, or, so long as he cannot, he too must say, as we are
saying, that there is a communion of classes, and that being, and
difference or other, traverse all things and mutually
interpenetrate, so that the other partakes of being, and by
reason of this participation is, and yet is not that of which it
partakes, but other, and being other than being, it is clearly a
necessity that not-being should be. again, being, through
partaking of the other, becomes a class other than the remaining
classes, and being other than all of them, is not each one of
them, and is not all the rest, so that undoubtedly there are
thousands upon thousands of cases in which being is not, and all
other things, whether regarded individually or collectively, in
many respects are, and in many respects are not.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And he who is sceptical of this contradiction, must
think how he can find something better to say; or if. he sees a
puzzle, and his pleasure is to drag words this way and that, the
argument will prove to him, that he is not making a worthy use of
his faculties; for there is no charm in such puzzles, and there
is no difficulty in detecting them; but we can tell him of
something else the pursuit of which is noble and also difficult.
[Theaet.] What is it?
[Str.] A thing of which I have already spoken;-letting alone
these puzzles as involving no difficulty, he should be able to
follow, and criticize in detail every argument, and when a man
says that the same is in a manner other, or that other is the
same, to understand and refute him from his own point of view,
and in the same respect in which he asserts either of these
affections. But to show that somehow and in some sense the same
is other, or the other same, or the great small, or the like
unlike; and to delight in always bringing forward such
contradictions, is no real refutation, but is clearly the new-born
babe of some one who is only beginning to approach the problem of
being.
[Theaet.] To be sure.
[Str.] For certainly, my friend, the attempt to separate all
existences from one another is a barbarism and utterly unworthy
of an educated or philosophical mind.
[Theaet.] Why so?
[Str.] The attempt at universal separation is the final
annihilation of all reasoning; for only by the union of
conceptions with one another do we attain to discourse of reason.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And, observe that we were only just in time in making a
resistance to such separatists, and compelling them to admit that
one thing mingles with another.
[Theaet.] Why so?
[Str.] Why, that we might be able to assert discourse to be a
kind of being; for if we could not, the worst of all consequences
would follow; we should have no philosophy. Moreover, the
necessity for determining the nature of discourse presses upon us
at this moment; if utterly deprived of it, we could no more hold
discourse; and deprived of it we should be if we admitted that
there was no admixture of natures at all.
[Theaet.] Very true. But I do not understand why at this
moment we must determine the nature of discourse.
[Str.] Perhaps you will see more clearly by the help of the
following explanation.
[Theaet.] What explanation?
[Str.] Not-being has been acknowledged by us to be one among
many classes diffused over all being.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And thence arises the question, whether not-being
mingles with opinion and language.
[Theaet.] How so?
[Str.] If not-being has no part in the proposition, then all
things must be true; but if not-being has a part, then false
opinion and false speech are possible, for. think or to say what
is not-is falsehood, which thus arises in the region of thought
and in speech.
[Theaet.] That is quite true.
[Str.] And where there is falsehood surely there must be
deceit.
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And if there is deceit, then all things must be full of
idols and images and fancies.
[Theaet.] To be sure.
[Str.] Into that region the Sophist, as we said, made his
escape, and, when he had got there, denied the very possibility
of falsehood; no one, he argued, either conceived or uttered
falsehood, inasmuch as not-being did not in any way partake of
being.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And now, not-being has been shown to partake of being,
and therefore he will not continue fighting in this direction,
but he will probably say that some ideas partake of not-being,
and some not, and that language and opinion are of the non-partaking
class; and he will still fight to the death against the existence
of the image-making and phantastic art, in which we have placed
him, because, as he will say, opinion and language do not partake
of not-being, and unless this participation exists, there can be
no such thing as falsehood. And, with the view of meeting this
evasion, we must begin by enquiring into the nature of language,
opinion, and imagination, in order that when we find them we may
find also that they have communion with not-being, and, having
made out the connection of them, may thus prove that falsehood
exists; and therein we will imprison the Sophist, if he deserves
it, or, if not, we will let him go again and look for him in
another class.
[Theaet.] Certainly, Stranger, there appears to be truth in
what was said about the Sophist at first, that he was of a class
not easily caught, for he seems to have abundance of defences,
which he throws up, and which must every one of them be stormed
before we can reach the man himself. And even now, we have with
difficulty got through his first defence, which is the not-being
of not-being, and lo! here is another; for we have still to show
that falsehood exists in the sphere of language and opinion, and
there will be another and another line of defence without end.
[Str.] Any one, Theaetetus, who is able to advance even a
little ought to be of good cheer, for what would he who is
dispirited at a little progress do, if he were making none at
all, or even undergoing a repulse? Such a faint heart, as the
proverb says, will never take a city: but now that we have
succeeded thus far, the citadel is ours, and what remains is
easier.
[Theaet.] Very true.
[Str.] Then, as I was saying, let us first of all obtain a
conception of language and opinion, in order that we may have
clearer grounds for determining, whether not-being has any
concern with them, or whether they are both always true, and
neither of them ever false.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] Then, now, let us speak of names, as before we were
speaking of ideas and letters; for that is the direction in which
the answer may be expected.
[Theaet.] And what is the question at issue about names?
[Str.] The question at issue is whether all names may be
connected with one another, or none, or only some of them.
[Theaet.] Clearly the last is true.
[Str.] I understand you to say that words which have a meaning
when in sequence may be connected, but that words which have no
meaning when in sequence cannot be connected?
[Theaet.] What are you saying?
[Str.] What I thought that you intended when you gave your
assent; for there are two sorts of intimation of being which are
given by the voice.
[Theaet.] What are they?
[Str.] One of them is called nouns, and the other verbs.
[Theaet.] Describe them.
[Str.] That which denotes action we call a verb.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And the other, which is an articulate mark set on those
who do the actions, we call a noun.
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] A succession of nouns only is not a sentence any more
than of verbs without nouns.
[Theaet.] I do not understand you.
[Str.] I see that when you gave your assent you had something
else in your mind. But what I intended to say was, that a mere
succession of nouns or of verbs is not discourse.
[Theaet.] What do you mean?
[Str.] I mean that words like "walks," "runs,"
"sleeps," or any other words which denote action,
however many of them you string together, do not make discourse.
[Theaet.] How can they?
[Str.] Or, again, when you say "lion," "stag,"
"horse," or any other words which denote agents -neither
in this way of stringing words together do you attain to
discourse; for there is no expression of action or inaction, or
of the existence of existence or non-existence indicated by the
sounds, until verbs are mingled with nouns; then the words fit,
and the smallest combination of them forms language, and is the
simplest and least form of discourse.
[Theaet.] Again I ask, What do you mean?
[Str.] When any one says "A man learns," should you
not call this the simplest and least of sentences?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] Yes, for he now arrives at the point of giving an
intimation about something which is, or is becoming, or has
become, or will be. And he not only names, but he does something,
by connecting verbs with nouns; and therefore we say that he
discourses, and to this connection of words we give the name of
discourse.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And as there are some things which fit one another, and
other things which do not fit, so there are some vocal signs
which do, and others which do not, combine and form discourse.
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] There is another small matter.
[Theaet.] What is it?
[Str.] A sentence must and cannot help having a subject.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And must be of a certain quality.
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And now let us mind what we are about.
[Theaet.] We must do so.
[Str.] I will repeat a sentence to you in which a thing and an
action are combined, by the help of a noun and a verb; and you
shall tell me of whom the sentence speaks.
[Theaet.] I will, to the best my power.
[Str.] "Theaetetus sits"-not a very long sentence.
[Theaet.] Not very.
[Str.] Of whom does the sentence speak, and who is the subject
that is what you have to tell.
[Theaet.] Of me; I am the subject.
[Str.] Or this sentence, again-
[Theaet.] What sentence?
[Str.] "Theaetetus, with whom I am now speaking, is
flying."
[Theaet.] That also is a sentence which will be admitted by
every one to speak of me, and to apply to me.
[Str.] We agreed that every sentence must necessarily have a
certain quality.
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And what is the quality of each of these two sentences?
[Theaet.] The one, as I imagine, is false, and the other true.
[Str.] The true says what is true about you?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And the false says what is other than true?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And therefore speaks of things which are not as if they
were?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And say that things are real of you which are not; for,
as we were saying, in regard to each thing or person, there is
much that is and much that is not.
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] The second of the two sentences which related to you
was first of all an example of the shortest form consistent with
our definition.
[Theaet.] Yes, this was implied in recent admission.
[Str.] And, in the second place, it related to a subject?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] Who must be you, and can be nobody else?
[Theaet.] Unquestionably.
[Str.] And it would be no sentence at all if there were no
subject, for, as we proved, a sentence which has no subject is
impossible.
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] When other, then, is asserted of you as the same, and
not-being as being, such a combination of nouns and verbs is
really and truly false discourse.
[Theaet.] Most true.
[Str.] And therefore thought, opinion, and imagination are now
proved to exist in our minds both as true and false.
[Theaet.] How so?
[Str.] You will know better if you first gain a knowledge of
what they are, and in what they severally differ from one another.
[Theaet.] Give me the knowledge which you would wish me to
gain.
[Str.] Are not thought and speech the same, with this
exception, that what is called thought is the unuttered
conversation of the soul with herself?
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] But the stream of thought which flows through the lips
and is audible is called speech?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And we know that there exists in speech...
[Theaet.] What exists?
[Str.] Affirmation.
[Theaet.] Yes, we know it.
[Str.] When the affirmation or denial takes Place in silence
and in the mind only, have you any other name by which to call it
but opinion?
[Theaet.] There can be no other name.
[Str.] And when opinion is presented, not simply, but in some
form of sense, would you not call it imagination?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] And seeing that language is true and false, and that
thought is the conversation of the soul with herself, and opinion
is the end of thinking, and imagination or phantasy is the union
of sense and opinion, the inference is that some of them, since
they are akin to language, should have an element of falsehood as
well as of truth?
[Theaet.] Certainly.
[Str.] Do you perceive, then, that false opinion and speech
have been discovered sooner than we expected?-For just now we
seemed to be undertaking a task which would never be accomplished.
[Theaet.] I perceive.
[Str.] Then let us not be discouraged about the future; but
now having made this discovery, let us go back to our previous
classification.
[Theaet.] What classification?
[Str.] We divided image-making into two sorts; the one
likeness-making, the other imaginative or phantastic.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And we said that we were uncertain in which we should
place the Sophist.
[Theaet.] We did say so.
[Str.] And our heads began to go round more and more when it
was asserted that there is no such thing as an image or idol or
appearance, because in no manner or time or place can there ever
be such a thing as falsehood.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And now, since there has been shown to be false speech
and false opinion, there may be imitations of real existences,
and out of this condition of the mind an art of deception may
arise.
[Theaet.] Quite possible.
[Str.] And we have: already admitted, in what preceded, that
the Sophist was lurking in one of the divisions of the likeness-making
art?
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] Let us, then, renew the attempt, and in dividing any
class, always take the part to the right, holding fast to that
which holds the Sophist, until we have stripped him of all his
common properties, and reached his difference or peculiar. Then
we may exhibit him in his true nature, first to ourselves and
then to kindred dialectical spirits.
[Theaet.] Very good.
[Str.] You may remember that all art was originally divided by
us into creative and acquisitive.
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And the Sophist was flitting before us in the
acquisitive class, in the subdivisions of hunting, contests,
merchandise, and the like.
[Theaet.] Very true.
[Str.] But now that the imitative art has enclosed him, it is
clear that we must begin by dividing the art of creation; for
imitation is a kind of creation of images, however, as we affirm,
and not of real things.
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] In the first place, there are two kinds of creation.
[Theaet.] What are they?
[Str.] One of them is human and the other divine.
[Theaet.] I do not follow.
[Str.] Every power, as you may remember our saying originally,
which causes things to exist, not previously existing, was
defined by us as creative.
[Theaet.] I remember.
[Str.] Looking, now, at the world and all the animals and
plants, at things which grow upon the earth from seeds and roots,
as well as at inanimate substances which are formed within the
earth, fusile or non-fusile, shall we say that they come into
existence-not having existed previously-by the creation of God,
or shall we agree with vulgar opinion about them?
[Theaet.] What is it?
[Str.] The opinion that nature brings them into being from
some spontaneous and unintelligent cause. Or shall we say that
they are created by a divine reason and a knowledge which comes
from God?
[Theaet.] I dare say that, owing to my youth, I may often
waver in my view, but now when I look at you and see that you
incline to refer them to God, I defer to your authority.
[Str.] Nobly said, Theaetetus, and if I thought that you were
one of those who would hereafter change your mind, I would have
gently argued with you, and forced you to assent; but as I
perceive that you will come of yourself and without any argument
of mine, to that belief which, as you say, attracts you, I will
not forestall the work of time. Let me suppose then, that things
which are said to be made by nature are the work of divine art,
and that things which are made by man out of these are work of
human art. And so there are two kinds of making and production,
the one human and the other divine.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] Then, now, subdivide each of the two sections which we
have already.
[Theaet.] How do you mean?
[Str.] I mean to say that you should make a vertical division
of production or invention, as you have already made a lateral
one.
[Theaet.] I have done so.
[Str.] Then, now, there are in all four parts or segments-two
of them have reference to us and are human, and two of them have
reference to the gods and are divine.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And, again, in the division which was supposed to be
made in the other way, one part in each subdivision is the making
of the things themselves, but the two remaining parts may be
called the making of likenesses; and so the productive art is
again divided into two parts.
[Theaet.] Tell me the divisions once more.
[Str.] I suppose that we, and the other animals, and the
elements out of which things are made-fire, water, and the like-are
known by us to be each and all the creation and work of God.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] And there are images of them, which are not them, but
which correspond to them; and these are also the creation of a
wonderful skill.
[Theaet.] What are they?
[Str.] The appearances which spring up of themselves in sleep
or by day, such as a shadow when darkness arises in a fire, or
the reflection which is produced when the light in bright and
smooth objects meets on their surface with an external light, and
creates a perception the opposite of our ordinary sight.
[Theaet.] Yes; and the images as well as the creation are
equally the work of a divine hand.
[Str.] And what shall we say of human art? Do we not make one
house by the art of building, and another by the art of drawing,
which is a sort of dream created by man for those who are awake?
[Theaet.] Quite true.
[Str.] And other products of human creation are twofold and go
in pairs; there is the thing, with which the art of making the
thing is concerned, and the image, with which imitation is
concerned.
[Theaet.] Now I begin to understand, and am ready to
acknowledge that there are two kinds of production, and each of
them two fold; in the lateral division there is both a divine and
a human production; in the vertical there are realities and a
creation of a kind of similitudes.
[Str.] And let us not forget that of the imitative class the
one part to have been likeness making, and the other phantastic,
if it could be shown that falsehood is a reality and belongs to
the class of real being.
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] And this appeared to be the case; and therefore now,
without hesitation, we shall number the different kinds as two.
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] Then, now, let us again divide the phantastic art.
[Theaet.] Where shall we make the division?
[Str.] There is one kind which is produced by an instrument,
and another in which the creator of the appearance is himself the
instrument.
[Theaet.] What do you mean?
[Str.] When any one makes himself appear like another in his
figure or his voice, imitation is the name for this part of the
phantastic art.
[Theaet.] Yes.
[Str.] Let this, then, be named the art of mimicry, and this
the province assigned to it; as for the other division, we are
weary and will give that up, leaving to some one else the duty of
making the class and giving it a suitable name.
[Theaet.] Let us do as you say-assign a sphere to the one and
leave the other.
[Str.] There is a further distinction, Theaetetus, which is
worthy of our consideration, and for a reason which I will tell
you.
[Theaet.] Let me hear.
[Str.] There are some who imitate, knowing what they imitate,
and some who do not know. And what line of distinction can there
possibly be greater than that which divides ignorance from
knowledge?
[Theaet.] There can be no greater.
[Str.] Was not the sort of imitation of which we spoke just
now the imitation of those who know? For he who would imitate you
would surely know you and your figure?
[Theaet.] Naturally.
[Str.] And what would you say of the figure or form of justice
or of virtue in general? Are we not well aware that many, having
no knowledge of either, but only a sort of opinion, do their best
to show that this opinion is really entertained by them, by
expressing it, as far as they can, in word and deed?
[Theaet.] Yes, that is very common.
[Str.] And do they always fail in their attempt to be thought
just, when they are not? Or is not the very opposite true?
[Theaet.] The very opposite.
[Str.] Such a one, then, should be described as an imitator-to
be distinguished from the other, as he who is ignorant is
distinguished from him who knows?
[Theaet.] True.
[Str.] Can we find a suitable name for each of them? This is
clearly not an easy task; for among the ancients there was some
confusion of ideas, which prevented them from attempting to
divide genera into species; wherefore there is no great abundance
of names. Yet, for the sake of distinctness, I will make bold to
call the imitation which coexists with opinion, the imitation of
appearance-that which coexists with science, a scientific or
learned imitation.
[Theaet.] Granted.
[Str.] The former is our present concern, for the Sophist was
classed with imitators indeed, but not among those who have
knowledge.
[Theaet.] Very true.
[Str.] Let us, then, examine our imitator of appearance, and
see whether he is sound, like a piece of iron, or whether there
is still some crack in him.
[Theaet.] Let us examine him.
[Str.] Indeed there is a very considerable crack; for if you
look, you find that one of the two classes of imitators is a
simple creature, who thinks that he knows that which he only
fancies; the other sort has knocked about among arguments, until
he suspects and fears that he is ignorant of that which to the
many he pretends to know.
[Theaet.] There are certainly the two kinds which you describe.
[Str.] Shall we regard one as the simple imitator-the other as
the dissembling or ironical imitator?
[Theaet.] Very good.
[Str.] And shall we further speak of this latter class as
having one or two divisions?
[Theaet.] Answer yourself.
[Str.] Upon consideration, then, there appear to me to be two;
there is the dissembler, who harangues a multitude in public in a
long speech, and the dissembler, who in private and in short
speeches compels the person who is conversing with him to
contradict himself.
[Theaet.] What you say is most true.
[Str.] And who is the maker of the longer speeches? Is he the
statesman or the popular orator?
[Theaet.] The latter.
[Str.] And what shall we call the other? Is he the philosopher
or the Sophist?
[Theaet.] The philosopher he cannot be, for upon our view he
is ignorant; but since he is an imitator of the wise he will have
a name which is formed by an adaptation of the word sothos. What
shall we name him? I am pretty sure that I cannot be mistaken in
terming him the true and very Sophist.
[Str.] Shall we bind up his name as we did before, making a
chain from one end of his genealogy to the other?
[Theaet.] By all means.
[Str.] He, then, who traces the pedigree of his art as follows-who,
belonging to the conscious or dissembling section of the art of
causing self-contradiction, is an imitator of appearance, and is
separated from the class of phantastic which is a branch of image-making
into that further division of creation, the juggling of words, a
creation human, and not divine-any one who affirms the real
Sophist to be of this blood and lineage will say the very truth.
[Theaet.] Undoubtedly.
-THE END-
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