Cratylus
by Plato
translated by Benjamin Jowett
PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE:
SOCRATES,
HERMOGENES,
CRATYLUS.
[Hermogenes] Suppose that we make Socrates a party to the
argument?
[Cratylus] If you please.
[Her.] I should explain to you, Socrates, that our friend
Cratylus has been arguing about names; he says that they are
natural and not conventional; not a portion of the human voice
which men agree to use; but that there is a truth or correctness
in them, which is the same for Hellenes as for barbarians.
Whereupon I ask him, whether his own name of Cratylus is a true
name or not, and he answers "Yes." And Socrates? "Yes."
Then every man's name, as I tell him, is that which he is called.
To this he replies- "If all the world were to call you
Hermogenes, that would not be your name." And when I am
anxious to have a further explanation he is ironical and
mysterious, and seems to imply that he has a notion of his own
about the matter, if he would only tell, and could entirely
convince me, if he chose to be intelligible. Tell me, Socrates,
what this oracle means; or rather tell me, if you will be so
good, what is your own view of the truth or correctness of names,
which I would far sooner hear.
[Socrates] Son of Hipponicus, there is an ancient saying, that
"hard is the knowledge of the good." And the knowledge
of names is a great part of knowledge. If I had not been poor, I
might have heard the fifty-drachma course of the great Prodicus,
which is a complete education in grammar and language- these are
his own words- and then I should have been at once able to answer
your question about the correctness of names. But, indeed, I have
only heard the single-drachma course, and therefore, I do not
know the truth about such matters; I will, however, gladly assist
you and Cratylus in the investigation of them. When he declares
that your name is not really Hermogenes, I suspect that he is
only making fun of you;- he means to say that you are no true son
of Hermes, because you are always looking after a fortune and
never in luck. But, as I was saying, there is a good deal of
difficulty in this sort of knowledge, and therefore we had better
leave the question open until we have heard both sides.
[Her.] I have often talked over this matter, both with
Cratylus and others, and cannot convince myself that there is any
principle of correctness in names other than convention and
agreement; any name which you give, in my opinion, is the right
one, and if you change that and give another, the new name is as
correct as the old- we frequently change the names of our slaves,
and the newly-imposed name is as good as the old: for there is no
name given to anything by nature; all is convention and habit of
the users;- such is my view. But if I am mistaken I shall be
happy to hear and learn of Cratylus, or of any one else.
[Soc.] I dare say that you be right, Hermogenes: let us see;-
Your meaning is, that the name of each thing is only that which
anybody agrees to call it?
[Her.] That is my notion.
[Soc.] Whether the giver of the name be an individual or a
city?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] Well, now, let me take an instance;- suppose that I
call a man a horse or a horse a man, you mean to say that a man
will be rightly called a horse by me individually, and rightly
called a man by the rest of the world; and a horse again would be
rightly called a man by me and a horse by the world:- that is
your meaning?
[Her.] He would, according to my view.
[Soc.] But how about truth, then? you would acknowledge that
there is in words a true and a false?
[Her.] Certainly.
[Soc.] And there are true and false propositions?
[Her.] To be sure.
[Soc.] And a true proposition says that which is, and a false
proposition says that which is not?
[Her.] Yes; what other answer is possible?
[Soc.] Then in a proposition there is a true and false?
[Her.] Certainly.
[Soc.] But is a proposition true as a whole only, and are the
parts untrue?
[Her.] No; the parts are true as well as the whole.
[Soc.] Would you say the large parts and not the smaller ones,
or every part?
[Her.] I should say that every part is true.
[Soc.] Is a proposition resolvable into any part smaller than
a name?
[Her.] No; that is the smallest.
[Soc.] Then the name is a part of the true proposition?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] Yes, and a true part, as you say.
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] And is not the part of a falsehood also a falsehood?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] Then, if propositions may be true and false, names may
be true and false?
[Her.] So we must infer.
[Soc.] And the name of anything is that which any one affirms
to be the name?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] And will there be so many names of each thing as
everybody says that there are? and will they be true names at the
time of uttering them?
[Her.] Yes, Socrates, I can conceive no correctness of names
other than this; you give one name, and I another; and in
different cities and countries there are different names for the
same things; Hellenes differ from barbarians in their use of
names, and the several Hellenic tribes from one another.
[Soc.] But would you say, Hermogenes, that the things differ
as the names differ? and are they relative to individuals, as
Protagoras tells us? For he says that man is the measure of all
things, and that things are to me as they appear to me, and that
they are to you as they appear to you. Do you agree with him, or
would you say that things have a permanent essence of their own?
[Her.] There have been times, Socrates, when I have been
driven in my perplexity to take refuge with Protagoras; not that
I agree with him at all.
[Soc.] What! have you ever been driven to admit that there was
no such thing as a bad man?
[Her.] No, indeed; but I have often had reason to think that
there are very bad men, and a good many of them.
[Soc.] Well, and have you ever found any very good ones?
[Her.] Not many.
[Soc.] Still you have found them?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] And would you hold that the very good were the very
wise, and the very evil very foolish? Would that be your view?
[Her.] It would.
[Soc.] But if Protagoras is right, and the truth is that
things are as they appear to any one, how can some of us be wise
and some of us foolish?
[Her.] Impossible.
[Soc.] And if, on the other hand, wisdom and folly are really
distinguishable, you will allow, I think, that the assertion of
Protagoras can hardly be correct. For if what appears to each man
is true to him, one man cannot in reality be wiser than another.
[Her.] He cannot.
[Soc.] Nor will you be disposed to say with Euthydemus, that
all things equally belong to all men at the same moment and
always; for neither on his view can there be some good and other
bad, if virtue and vice are always equally to be attributed to
all.
[Her.] There cannot.
[Soc.] But if neither is right, and things are not relative to
individuals, and all things do not equally belong to all at the
same moment and always, they must be supposed to have their own
proper and permanent essence: they are not in relation to us, or
influenced by us, fluctuating according to our fancy, but they
are independent, and maintain to their own essence the relation
prescribed by nature.
[Her.] I think, Socrates, that you have said the truth.
[Soc.] Does what I am saying apply only to the things
themselves, or equally to the actions which proceed from them?
Are not actions also a class of being?
[Her.] Yes, the actions are real as well as the things.
[Soc.] Then the actions also are done according to their
proper nature, and not according to our opinion of them? In
cutting, for example, we do not cut as we please, and with any
chance instrument; but we cut with the proper instrument only,
and according to the natural process of cutting; and the natural
process is right and will succeed, but any other will fail and be
of no use at all.
[Her.] I should say that the natural way is the right way.
[Soc.] Again, in burning, not every way is the right way; but
the right way is the natural way, and the right instrument the
natural instrument.
[Her.] True.
[Soc.] And this holds good of all actions?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] And speech is a kind of action?
[Her.] True.
[Soc.] And will a man speak correctly who speaks as he
pleases? Will not the successful speaker rather be he who speaks
in the natural way of speaking, and as things ought to be spoken,
and with the natural instrument? Any other mode of speaking will
result in error and failure.
[Her.] I quite agree with you.
[Soc.] And is not naming a part of speaking? for in giving
names men speak.
[Her.] That is true.
[Soc.] And if speaking is a sort of action and has a relation
to acts, is not naming also a sort of action?
[Her.] True.
[Soc.] And we saw that actions were not relative to ourselves,
but had a special nature of their own?
[Her.] Precisely.
[Soc.] Then the argument would lead us to infer that names
ought to be given according to a natural process, and with a
proper instrument, and not at our pleasure: in this and no other
way shall we name with success.
[Her.] I agree.
[Soc.] But again, that which has to be cut has to be cut with
something?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] And that which has to be woven or pierced has to be
woven or pierced with something?
[Her.] Certainly.
[Soc.] And that which has to be named has to be named with
something?
[Her.] True.
[Soc.] What is that with which we pierce?
[Her.] An awl.
[Soc.] And with which we weave?
[Her.] A shuttle.
[Soc.] And with which we name?
[Her.] A name.
[Soc.] Very good: then a name is an instrument?
[Her.] Certainly.
[Soc.] Suppose that I ask, "What sort of instrument is a
shuttle?" And you answer, "A weaving instrument."
[Her.] Well.
[Soc.] And I ask again, "What do we do when we weave?"-
The answer is, that we separate or disengage the warp from the
woof.
[Her.] Very true.
[Soc.] And may not a similar description be given of an awl,
and of instruments in general?
[Her.] To be sure.
[Soc.] And now suppose that I ask a similar question about
names: will you answer me? Regarding the name as an instrument,
what do we do when we name?
[Her.] I cannot say.
[Soc.] Do we not give information to one another, and
distinguish things according to their natures?
[Her.] Certainly we do.
[Soc.] Then a name is an instrument of teaching and of
distinguishing natures, as the shuttle is of distinguishing the
threads of the web.
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] And the shuttle is the instrument of the weaver?
[Her.] Assuredly.
[Soc.] Then the weaver will use the shuttle well- and well
means like a weaver? and the teacher will use the name well- and
well means like a teacher?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] And when the weaver uses the shuttle, whose work will
he be using well?
[Her.] That of the carpenter.
[Soc.] And is every man a carpenter, or the skilled only?
[Her.] Only the skilled.
[Soc.] And when the piercer uses the awl, whose work will he
be using well?
[Her.] That of the smith.
[Soc.] And is every man a smith, or only the skilled?
[Her.] The skilled only.
[Soc.] And when the teacher uses the name, whose work will he
be using?
[Her.] There again I am puzzled.
[Soc.] Cannot you at least say who gives us the names which we
use?
[Her.] Indeed I cannot.
[Soc.] Does not the law seem to you to give us them?
[Her.] Yes, I suppose so.
[Soc.] Then the teacher, when he gives us a name, uses the
work of the legislator?
[Her.] I agree.
[Soc.] And is every man a legislator, or the skilled only?
[Her.] The skilled only.
[Soc.] Then, Hermogenes, not every man is able to give a name,
but only a maker of names; and this is the legislator, who of all
skilled artisans in the world is the rarest.
[Her.] True.
[Soc.] And how does the legislator make names? and to what
does he look? Consider this in the light of the previous
instances: to what does the carpenter look in making the shuttle?
Does he not look to that which is naturally fitted to act as a
shuttle?
[Her.] Certainly.
[Soc.] And suppose the shuttle to be broken in making, will he
make another, looking to the broken one? or will he look to the
form according to which he made the other?
[Her.] To the latter, I should imagine.
[Soc.] Might not that be justly called the true or ideal
shuttle?
[Her.] I think so.
[Soc.] And whatever shuttles are wanted, for the manufacture
of garments, thin or thick, of flaxen, woollen, or other
material, ought all of them to have the true form of the shuttle;
and whatever is the shuttle best adapted to each kind of work,
that ought to be the form which the maker produces in each case.
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] And the same holds of other instruments: when a man has
discovered the instrument which is naturally adapted to each
work, he must express this natural form, and not others which he
fancies, in the material, whatever it may be, which he employs;
for example, he ought to know how to put into iron the forms of
awls adapted by nature to their several uses?
[Her.] Certainly.
[Soc.] And how to put into wood forms of shuttles adapted by
nature to their uses?
[Her.] True.
[Soc.] For the several forms of shuttles naturally answer to
the several kinds of webs; and this is true of instruments in
general.
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] Then, as to names: ought not our legislator also to
know how to put the true natural names of each thing into sounds
and syllables and to make and give all names with a view to the
ideal name, if he is to be a namer in any true sense? And we must
remember that different legislators will not use the same
syllables. For neither does every smith, although he may be
making the same instrument for the same purpose, make them all of
the same iron. The form must be the same, but the material may
vary, and still the instrument may be equally good of whatever
iron made, whether in Hellas or in a foreign country;- there is
no difference.
[Her.] Very true.
[Soc.] And the legislator, whether he be Hellene or barbarian,
is not therefore to be deemed by you a worse legislator, provided
he gives the true and proper form of the name in whatever
syllables; this or that country makes no matter.
[Her.] Quite true.
[Soc.] But who then is to determine whether the proper form is
given to the shuttle, whatever sort of wood may be used? the
carpenter who makes, or the weaver who is to use them?
[Her.] I should say, he who is to use them, Socrates.
[Soc.] And who uses the work of the lyremaker? Will not he be
the man who knows how to direct what is being done, and who will
know also whether the work is being well done or not?
[Her.] Certainly.
[Soc.] And who is he?
[Her.] The player of the lyre.
[Soc.] And who will direct the shipwright?
[Her.] The pilot.
[Soc.] And who will be best able to direct the legislator in
his work, and will know whether the work is well done, in this or
any other country? Will not the user be the man?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] And this is he who knows how to ask questions?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] And how to answer them?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] And him who knows how to ask and answer you would call
a dialectician?
[Her.] Yes; that would be his name.
[Soc.] Then the work of the carpenter is to make a rudder, and
the pilot has to direct him, if the rudder is to be well made.
[Her.] True.
[Soc.] And the work of the legislator is to give names, and
the dialectician must be his director if the names are to be
rightly given?
[Her.] That is true.
[Soc.] Then, Hermogenes, I should say that this giving of
names can be no such light matter as you fancy, or the work of
light or chance persons; and Cratylus is right in saying that
things have names by nature, and that not every man is an
artificer of names, but he only who looks to the name which each
thing by nature has, and is able to express the true forms of
things in letters and syllables.
[Her.] I cannot answer you, Socrates; but I find a difficulty
in changing my opinion all in a moment, and I think that I should
be more readily persuaded, if you would show me what this is
which you term the natural fitness of names.
[Soc.] My good Hermogenes, I have none to show. Was I not
telling you just now (but you have forgotten), that I knew
nothing, and proposing to share the enquiry with you? But now
that you and I have talked over the matter, a step has been
gained; for we have discovered that names have by nature a truth,
and that not every man knows how to give a thing a name.
[Her.] Very good.
[Soc.] And what is the nature of this truth or correctness of
names? That, if you care to know, is the next question.
[Her.] Certainly, I care to know.
[Soc.] Then reflect.
[Her.] How shall I reflect?
[Soc.] The true way is to have the assistance of those who
know, and you must pay them well both in money and in thanks;
these are the Sophists, of whom your brother, Callias, has-
rather dearly- bought the reputation of wisdom. But you have not
yet come into your inheritance, and therefore you had better go
to him, and beg and entreat him to tell you what he has learnt
from Protagoras about the fitness of names.
[Her.] But how inconsistent should I be, if, whilst
repudiating Protagoras and his Truth, I were to attach any value
to what he and his book affirm!
[Soc.] Then if you despise him, you must learn of Homer and
the poets.
[Her.] And where does Homer say anything about names, and what
does he say?
[Soc.] He often speaks of them; notably and nobly in the
places where he distinguishes the different names which Gods and
men give to the same things. Does he not in these passages make a
remarkable statement about the correctness of names? For the Gods
must clearly be supposed to call things by their right and
natural names; do you not think so?
[Her.] Why, of course they call them rightly, if they call
them at all. But to what are you referring?
[Soc.] Do you not know what he says about the river in Troy
who had a single combat with Hephaestus? Whom the Gods call
Xanthus, and men call Scamander.
[Her.] I remember.
[Soc.] Well, and about this river- to know that he ought to be
called Xanthus and not Scamander- is not that a solemn lesson? Or
about the bird which, as he says, The Gods call Chalcis, and men
Cymindis: to be taught how much more correct the name Chalcis is
than the name Cymindis- do you deem that a light matter? Or about
Batieia and Myrina? And there are many other observations of the
same kind in Homer and other poets. Now, I think that this is
beyond the understanding of you and me; but the names of
Scamandrius and Astyanax, which he affirms to have been the names
of Hector's son, are more within the range of human faculties, as
I am disposed to think; and what the poet means by correctness
may be more readily apprehended in that instance: you will
remember I dare say the lines to which I refer?
[Her.] I do.
[Soc.] Let me ask you, then, which did Homer think the more
correct of the names given to Hector's son- Astyanax or
Scamandrius?
[Her.] I do not know.
[Soc.] How would you answer, if you were asked whether the
wise or the unwise are more likely to give correct names?
[Her.] I should say the wise, of course.
[Soc.] And are the men or the women of a city, taken as a
class, the wiser?
[Her.] I should say, the men.
[Soc.] And Homer, as you know, says that the Trojan men called
him Astyanax (king of the city); but if the men called him
Astyanax, the other name of Scamandrius could only have been
given to him by the women.
[Her.] That may be inferred.
[Soc.] And must not Homer have imagined the Trojans to be
wiser than their wives?
[Her.] To be sure.
[Soc.] Then he must have thought Astyanax to be a more correct
name for the boy than Scamandrius?
[Her.] Clearly.
[Soc.] And what is the reason of this? Let us consider:- does
he not himself suggest a very good reason, when he says, For he
alone defended their city and long walls? This appears to be a
good reason for calling the son of the saviour king of the city
which his father was saving, as Homer observes.
[Her.] I see.
[Soc.] Why, Hermogenes, I do not as yet see myself; and do
you?
[Her.] No, indeed; not I.
[Soc.] But tell me, friend, did not Homer himself also give
Hector his name?
[Her.] What of that?
[Soc.] The name appears to me to be very nearly the same as
the name of Astyanax- both are Hellenic; and a king (anax) and a
holder (ektor) have nearly the same meaning, and are both
descriptive of a king; for a man is clearly the holder of that of
which he is king; he rules, and owns, and holds it. But, perhaps,
you may think that I am talking nonsense; and indeed I believe
that I myself did not know what I meant when I imagined that I
had found some indication of the opinion of Homer about the
correctness of names.
[Her.] I assure you that I think otherwise, and I believe you
to be on the right track.
[Soc.] There is reason, I think, in calling the lion's whelp a
lion, and the foal of a horse a horse; I am speaking only of the
ordinary course of nature, when an animal produces after his
kind, and not of extraordinary births;- if contrary to nature a
horse have a calf, then I should not call that a foal but a calf;
nor do I call any inhuman birth a man, but only a natural birth.
And the same may be said of trees and other things. Do you agree
with me?
[Her.] Yes, I agree.
[Soc.] Very good. But you had better watch me and see that I
do not play tricks with you. For on the same principle the son of
a king is to be called a king. And whether the syllables of the
name are the same or not the same, makes no difference, provided
the meaning is retained; nor does the addition or subtraction of
a letter make any difference so long as the essence of the thing
remains in possession of the name and appears in it.
[Her.] What do you mean?
[Soc.] A very simple matter. I may illustrate my meaning by
the names of letters, which you know are not the same as the
letters themselves with the exception of the four e, u, o (short),
o (long); the names of the rest, whether vowels or consonants,
are made up of other letters which we add to them; but so long as
we introduce the meaning, and there can be no mistake, the name
of the letter is quite correct. Take, for example, the letter
beta- the addition of e, t, a, gives no offence, and does not
prevent the whole name from having the value which the legislator
intended- so well did he know how to give the letters names.
[Her.] I believe you are right.
[Soc.] And may not the same be said of a king? a king will
often be the son of a king, the good son or the noble son of a
good or noble sire; and similarly the off spring of every kind,
in the regular course of nature, is like the parent, and
therefore has the same name. Yet the syllables may be disguised
until they appear different to the ignorant person, and he may
not recognize them, although they are the same, just as any one
of us would not recognize the same drugs under different
disguises of colour and smell, although to the physician, who
regards the power of them, they are the same, and he is not put
out by the addition; and in like manner the etymologist is not
put out by the addition or transposition or subtraction of a
letter or two, or indeed by the change of all the letters, for
this need not interfere with the meaning. As was just now said,
the names of Hector and Astyanax have only one letter alike,
which is t, and yet they have the same meaning. And how little in
common with the letters of their names has Archepolis (ruler of
the city)- and yet the meaning is the same. And there are many
other names which just mean "king." Again, there are
several names for a general, as, for example, Agis (leader) and
Polemarchus (chief in war) and Eupolemus (good warrior); and
others which denote a physician, as Iatrocles (famous healer) and
Acesimbrotus (curer of mortals); and there are many others which
might be cited, differing in their syllables and letters, but
having the same meaning. Would you not say so?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] The same names, then, ought to be assigned to those who
follow in the course of nature?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] And what of those who follow out of the course of
nature, and are prodigies? for example, when a good and religious
man has an irreligious son, he ought to bear the name not of his
father, but of the class to which he belongs, just as in the case
which was before supposed of a horse foaling a calf.
[Her.] Quite true.
[Soc.] Then the irreligious son of a religious father should
be called irreligious?
[Her.] Certainly.
[Soc.] He should not be called Theophilus (beloved of God) or
Mnesitheus (mindful of God), or any of these names: if names are
correctly given, his should have an opposite meaning.
[Her.] Certainly, Socrates.
[Soc.] Again, Hermogenes, there is Orestes (the man of the
mountains) who appears to be rightly called; whether chance gave
the name, or perhaps some poet who meant to express the brutality
and fierceness and mountain wildness of his hero's nature.
[Her.] That is very likely, Socrates.
[Soc.] And his father's name is also according to nature.
[Her.] Clearly.
[Soc.] Yes, for as his name, so also is his nature; Agamemnon
(admirable for remaining) is one who is patient and persevering
in the accomplishment of his resolves, and by his virtue crowns
them; and his continuance at Troy with all the vast army is a
proof of that admirable endurance in him which is signified by
the name Agamemnon. I also think that Atreus is rightly called;
for his murder of Chrysippus and his exceeding cruelty to
Thyestes are damaging and destructive to his reputation- the name
is a little altered and disguised so as not to be intelligible to
every one, but to the etymologist there is no difficulty in
seeing the meaning, for whether you think of him as ateires the
stubborn, or as atrestos the fearless, or as ateros the
destructive one, the name is perfectly correct in every point of
view. And I think that Pelops is also named appropriately; for,
as the name implies, he is rightly called Pelops who sees what is
near only (o ta pelas oron).
[Her.] How so?
[Soc.] Because, according to the tradition, he had no
forethought or foresight of all the evil which the murder of
Myrtilus would entail upon his whole race in remote ages; he saw
only what was at hand and immediate,- Or in other words, pelas (near),
in his eagerness to win Hippodamia by all means for his bride.
Every one would agree that the name of Tantalus is rightly given
and in accordance with nature, if the traditions about him are
true.
[Her.] And what are the traditions?
[Soc.] Many terrible misfortunes are said to have happened to
him in his life- last of all, came the utter ruin of his country;
and after his death he had the stone suspended (talanteia) over
his head in the world below- all this agrees wonderfully well
with his name. You might imagine that some person who wanted to
call him Talantatos (the most weighted down by misfortune),
disguised the name by altering it into Tantalus; and into this
form, by some accident of tradition, it has actually been
transmuted. The name of Zeus, who is his alleged father, has also
an excellent meaning, although hard to be understood, because
really like a sentence, which is divided into two parts, for some
call him Zena, and use the one half, and others who use the other
half call him Dia; the two together signify the nature of the
God, and the business of a name, as we were saying, is to express
the nature. For there is none who is more the author of life to
us and to all, than the lord and king of all. Wherefore we are
right in calling him Zena and Dia, which are one name, although
divided, meaning the God through whom all creatures always have
life (di on zen aei pasi tois zosin uparchei). There is an
irreverence, at first sight, in calling him son of Cronos (who is
a proverb for stupidity), and we might rather expect Zeus to be
the child of a mighty intellect. Which is the fact; for this is
the meaning of his father's name: Kronos quasi Koros (Choreo, to
sweep), not in the sense of a youth, but signifying to chatharon
chai acheraton tou nou, the pure and garnished mind (sc. apo tou
chorein). He, as we are informed by tradition, was begotten of
Uranus, rightly so called (apo tou oran ta ano) from looking
upwards; which, as philosophers tell us, is the way to have a
pure mind, and the name Uranus is therefore correct. If I could
remember the genealogy of Hesiod, I would have gone on and tried
more conclusions of the same sort on the remoter ancestors of the
Gods,- then I might have seen whether this wisdom, which has come
to me all in an instant, I know not whence, will or will not hold
good to the end.
[Her.] You seem to me, Socrates, to be quite like a prophet
newly inspired, and to be uttering oracles.
[Soc.] Yes, Hermogenes, and I believe that I caught the
inspiration from the great Euthyphro of the Prospaltian deme, who
gave me a long lecture which commenced at dawn: he talked and I
listened, and his wisdom and enchanting ravishment has not only
filled my ears but taken possession of my soul,and to-day I shall
let his superhuman power work and finish the investigation of
names- that will be the way; but to-morrow, if you are so
disposed, we will conjure him away, and make a purgation of him,
if we can only find some priest or sophist who is skilled in
purifications of this sort.
[Her.] With all my heart; for am very curious to hear the rest
of the enquiry about names.
[Soc.] Then let us proceed; and where would you have us begin,
now that we have got a sort of outline of the enquiry? Are there
any names which witness of themselves that they are not given
arbitrarily, but have a natural fitness? The names of heroes and
of men in general are apt to be deceptive because they are often
called after ancestors with whose names, as we were saying, they
may have no business; or they are the expression of a wish like
Eutychides (the son of good fortune), or Sosias (the Saviour), or
Theophilus (the beloved of God), and others. But I think that we
had better leave these, for there will be more chance of finding
correctness in the names of immutable essences;- there ought to
have been more care taken about them when they were named, and
perhaps there may have been some more than human power at work
occasionally in giving them names.
[Her.] I think so, Socrates.
[Soc.] Ought we not to begin with the consideration of the
Gods, and show that they are" rightly named Gods?
[Her.] Yes, that will be well.
[Soc.] My notion would be something of this sort:- I suspect
that the sun, moon, earth, stars, and heaven, which are still the
Gods of many barbarians, were the only Gods known to the
aboriginal Hellenes. Seeing that they were always moving and
running, from their running nature they were called Gods or
runners (Theous, Theontas); and when men became acquainted with
the other Gods, they proceeded to apply the same name to them all.
Do you think that likely?
[Her.] I think it very likely indeed.
[Soc.] What shall follow the Gods?
[Her.] Must not demons and heroes and men come next?
[Soc.] Demons! And what do you consider to be the meaning of
this word? Tell me if my view is right.
[Her.] Let me hear.
[Soc.] You know how Hesiod uses the word?
[Her.] I do not.
[Soc.] Do you not remember that he speaks of a golden race of
men who came first?
[Her.] Yes, I do.
[Soc.] He says of them- But now that fate has closed over this
race They are holy demons upon the earth, Beneficent, averters of
ills, guardians of mortal men.
[Her.] What is the inference?
[Soc.] What is the inference! Why, I suppose that he means by
the golden men, not men literally made of gold, but good and
noble; and I am convinced of this, because he further says that
we are the iron race.
[Her.] That is true.
[Soc.] And do you not suppose that good men of our own day
would by him be said to be of golden race?
[Her.] Very likely.
[Soc.] And are not the good wise?
[Her.] Yes, they are wise.
[Soc.] And therefore I have the most entire conviction that he
called them demons, because they were daemones (knowing or wise),
and in our older Attic dialect the word itself occurs. Now he and
other poets say truly, that when a good man dies he has honour
and a mighty portion among the dead, and becomes a demon; which
is a name given to him signifying wisdom. And I say too, that
every wise man who happens to be a good man is more than human (daimonion)
both in life and death, and is rightly called a demon.
[Her.] Then I rather think that I am of one mind with you; but
what is the meaning of the word "hero"? (eros)
[Soc.] I think that there is no difficulty in explaining, for
the name is not much altered, and signifies that they were born
of love.
[Her.] What do you mean?
[Soc.] Do you not know that the heroes are demigods?
[Her.] What then?
[Soc.] All of them sprang either from the love of a God for a
mortal woman, or of a mortal man for a Goddess; think of the word
in the old Attic, and you will see better that the name heros is
only a slight alteration of Eros, from whom the heroes sprang:
either this is the meaning, or, if not this, then they must have
been skilful as rhetoricians and dialecticians, and able to put
the question (erotan), for eirein is equivalent to legein. And
therefore, as I was saying, in the Attic dialect the heroes turn
out to be rhetoricians and questioners. All this is easy enough;
the noble breed of heroes are a tribe of sophists and rhetors.
But can you tell me why men are called anthropoi?- that is more
difficult.
[Her.] No, I cannot; and I would not try even if I could,
because I think that you are the more likely to succeed.
[Soc.] That is to say, you trust to the inspiration of
Euthyphro.
[Her.] Of course.
[Soc.] Your faith is not vain; for at this very moment a new
and ingenious thought strikes me, and, if I am not careful,
before tomorrow's dawn I shall be wiser than I ought to be. Now,
attend to me; and first, remember that we of put in and pull out
letters in words, and give names as we please and change the
accents. Take, for example, the word Dii Philos; in order to
convert this from a sentence into a noun, we omit one of the
iotas and sound the middle syllable grave instead of acute; as,
on the other hand, letters are sometimes inserted in words
instead of being omitted, and the acute takes the place of the
grave.
[Her.] That is true.
[Soc.] The name anthropos, which was once a sentence, and is
now a noun, appears to be a case just of this sort, for one
letter, which is the a, has been omitted, and the acute on the
last syllable has been changed to a grave.
[Her.] What do you mean?
[Soc.] I mean to say that the word "man" implies
that other animals never examine, or consider, or look up at what
they see, but that man not only sees (opope) but considers and
looks up at that which he sees, and hence he alone of all animals
is rightly anthropos, meaning anathron a opopen.
[Her.] May I ask you to examine another word about which I am
curious?
[Soc.] Certainly.
[Her.] I will take that which appears to me to follow next in
order. You know the distinction of soul and body?
[Soc.] Of course.
[Her.] Let us endeavour to analyze them like the previous
words.
[Soc.] You want me first of all to examine the natural fitness
of the word psnche (soul), and then of the word soma (body)?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] If I am to say what occurs to me at the moment, I
should imagine that those who first use the name psnche meant to
express that the soul when in the body is the source of life, and
gives the power of breath and revival (anapsuchon), and when this
reviving power fails then the body perishes and dies, and this,
if I am not mistaken, they called psyche. But please stay a
moment; I fancy that I can discover something which will be more
acceptable to the disciples of Euthyphro, for I am afraid that
they will scorn this explanation. What do you say to another?
[Her.] Let me hear.
[Soc.] What is that which holds and carries and gives life and
motion to the entire nature of the body? What else but the soul?
[Her.] Just that.
[Soc.] And do you not believe with Anaxagoras, that mind or
soul is the ordering and containing principle of all things?
[Her.] Yes; I do.
[Soc.] Then you may well call that power phuseche which
carries and holds nature (e phusin okei, kai ekei), and this may
be refined away into psuche.
[Her.] Certainly; and this derivation is, I think, more
scientific than the other.
[Soc.] It is so; but I cannot help laughing, if I am to
suppose that this was the true meaning of the name.
[Her.] But what shall we say of the next word?
[Soc.] You mean soma (the body).
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] That may be variously interpreted; and yet more
variously if a little permutation is allowed. For some say that
the body is the grave (sema) of the soul which may be thought to
be buried in our present life; or again the index of the soul,
because the soul gives indications to (semainei) the body;
probably the Orphic poets were the inventors of the name, and
they were under the impression that the soul is suffering the
punishment of sin, and that the body is an enclosure or prison in
which the soul is incarcerated, kept safe (soma, sozetai), as the
name ooma implies, until the penalty is paid; according to this
view, not even a letter of the word need be changed.
[Her.] I think, Socrates, that we have said enough of this
class of words. But have we any more explanations of the names of
the Gods, like that which you were giving of Zeus? I should like
to know whether any similar principle of correctness is to be
applied to them.
[Soc.] Yes, indeed, Hermogenes; and there is one excellent
principle which, as men of sense, we must acknowledge,- that of
the Gods we know nothing, either of their natures or of the names
which they give themselves; but we are sure that the names by
which they call themselves, whatever they may be, are true. And
this is the best of all principles; and the next best is to say,
as in prayers, that we will call them by any sort of kind names
or patronymics which they like, because we do not know of any
other. That also, I think, is a very good custom, and one which I
should much wish to observe. Let us, then, if you please, in the
first place announce to them that we are not enquiring about
them; we do not presume that we are able to do so; but we are
enquiring about the meaning of men in giving them these names,-
in this there can be small blame.
[Her.] I think, Socrates, that you are quite right, and I
would like to do as you say.
[Soc.] Shall we begin, then, with Hestia, according to custom?
[Her.] Yes, that will be very proper.
[Soc.] What may we suppose him to have meant who gave the name
Hestia?
[Her.] That is another and certainly a most difficult question.
[Soc.] My dear Hermogenes, the first imposers of names must
surely have been considerable persons; they were philosophers,
and had a good deal to say.
[Her.] Well, and what of them?
[Soc.] They are the men to whom I should attribute the
imposition of names. Even in foreign names, if you analyze them,
a meaning is still discernible. For example, that which we term
ousia is by some called esia, and by others again osia. Now that
the essence of things should be called estia, which is akin to
the first of these (esia = estia), is rational enough. And there
is reason in the Athenians calling that estia which participates
in ousia. For in ancient times we too seem to have said esia for
ousia, and this you may note to have been the idea of those who
appointed that sacrifices should be first offered to estia, which
was natural enough if they meant that estia was the essence of
things. Those again who read osia seem to have inclined to the
opinion of Heracleitus, that all things flow and nothing stands;
with them the pushing principle (othoun) is the cause and ruling
power of all things, and is therefore rightly called osia. Enough
of this, which is all that we who know nothing can affirm. Next
in order after Hestia we ought to consider Rhea and Cronos,
although the name of Cronos has been already discussed. But I
dare say that I am talking great nonsense.
[Her.] Why, Socrates?
[Soc.] My good friend, I have discovered a hive of wisdom.
[Her.] Of what nature?
[Soc.] Well, rather ridiculous, and yet plausible.
[Her.] How plausible?
[Soc.] I fancy to myself Heracleitus repeating wise traditions
of antiquity as old as the days of Cronos and Rhea, and of which
Homer also spoke.
[Her.] How do you mean?
[Soc.] Heracleitus is supposed to say that all things are in
motion and nothing at rest; he compares them to the stream of a
river, and says that you cannot go into the same water twice.
[Her.] That is true.
[Soc.] Well, then, how can we avoid inferring that he who gave
the names of Cronos and Rhea to the ancestors of the Gods, agreed
pretty much in the doctrine of Heracleitus? Is the giving of the
names of streams to both of them purely accidental? Compare the
line in which Homer, and, as I believe, Hesiod also, tells of
Ocean, the origin of Gods, and mother Tethys. And again, Orpheus
says, that The fair river of Ocean was the first to marry, and he
espoused his sister Tethys, who was his mother's daughter. You
see that this is a remarkable coincidence, and all in the
direction of Heracleitus.
[Her.] I think that there is something in what you say,
Socrates; but I do not understand the meaning of the name Tethys.
[Soc.] Well, that is almost self-explained, being only the
name of a spring, a little disguised; for that which is strained
and filtered (diattomenon, ethoumenon) may be likened to a
spring, and the name Tethys is made up of these two words.
[Her.] The idea is ingenious, Socrates.
[Soc.] To be sure. But what comes next?- of Zeus we have
spoken.
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] Then let us next take his two brothers, Poseidon and
Pluto, whether the latter is called by that or by his other name.
[Her.] By all means.
[Soc.] Poseidon is Posidesmos, the chain of the feet; the
original inventor of the name had been stopped by the watery
element in his walks, and not allowed to go on, and therefore he
called the ruler of this element Poseidon; the e was probably
inserted as an ornament. Yet, perhaps, not so; but the name may
have been originally written with a double l and not with an s,
meaning that the God knew many things (Polla eidos). And perhaps
also he being the shaker of the earth, has been named from
shaking (seiein), and then p and d have been added. Pluto gives
wealth (Ploutos), and his name means the giver of wealth, which
comes out of the earth beneath. People in general appear to
imagine that the term Hades is connected with the invisible (aeides)
and so they are led by their fears to call the God Pluto instead.
[Her.] And what is the true derivation?
[Soc.] In spite of the mistakes which are made about the power
of this deity, and the foolish fears which people have of him,
such as the fear of always being with him after death, and of the
soul denuded of the body going to him, my belief is that all is
quite consistent, and that the office and name of the God really
correspond.
[Her.] Why, how is that?
[Soc.] I will tell you my own opinion; but first, I should
like to ask you which chain does any animal feel to be the
stronger? and which confines him more to the same spot,- desire
or necessity?
[Her.] Desire, Socrates, is stronger far.
[Soc.] And do you not think that many a one would escape from
Hades, if he did not bind those who depart to him by the
strongest of chains?
[Her.] Assuredly they would.
[Soc.] And if by the greatest of chains, then by some desire,
as I should certainly infer, and not by necessity?
[Her.] That is clear.
[Soc.] And there are many desires?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] And therefore by the greatest desire, if the chain is
to be the greatest?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] And is any desire stronger than the thought that you
will be made better by associating with another?
[Her.] Certainly not.
[Soc.] And is not that the reason, Hermogenes, why no one, who
has been to him, is willing to come back to us? Even the Sirens,
like all the rest of the world, have been laid under his spells.
Such a charm, as I imagine, is the God able to infuse into his
words. And, according to this view, he is the perfect and
accomplished Sophist, and the great benefactor of the inhabitants
of the other world; and even to us who are upon earth he sends
from below exceeding blessings. For he has much more than he
wants down there; wherefore he is called Pluto (or the rich).
Note also, that he will have nothing to do with men while they
are in the body, but only when the soul is liberated from the
desires and evils of the body. Now there is a great deal of
philosophy and reflection in that; for in their liberated state
he can bind them with the desire of virtue, but while they are
flustered and maddened by the body, not even father Cronos
himself would suffice to keep them with him in his own far-famed
chains.
[Her.] There is a deal of truth in what you say.
[Soc.] Yes, Hermogenes, and the legislator called him Hades,
not from the unseen (aeides)- far otherwise, but from his
knowledge (eidenai) of all noble things.
[Her.] Very good; and what do we say of Demeter, and Here, and
Apollo, and Athene, and Hephaestus, and Ares, and the other
deities?
[Soc.] Demeter is e didousa meter, who gives food like a
mother; Here is the lovely one (erate)- for Zeus, according to
tradition, loved and married her; possibly also the name may have
been given when the legislator was thinking of the heavens, and
may be only a disguise of the air (aer), putting the end in the
place of the beginning. You will recognize the truth of this if
you repeat the letters of Here several times over. People dread
the name of Pherephatta as they dread the name of Apollo- and
with as little reason; the fear, if I am not mistaken, only
arises from their ignorance of the nature of names. But they go
changing the name into Phersephone, and they are terrified at
this; whereas the new name means only that the Goddess is wise (sophe);
for seeing that all things in the world are in motion (pheromenon),
that principle which embraces and touches and is able to follow
them, is wisdom. And therefore the Goddess may be truly called
Pherepaphe (Pherepapha), or some name like it, because she
touches that which is (tou pheromenon ephaptomene), herein
showing her wisdom. And Hades, who is wise, consorts with her,
because she is wise. They alter her name into Pherephatta now-a-days,
because the present generation care for euphony more than truth.
There is the other name, Apollo, which, as I was saying, is
generally supposed to have some terrible signification. Have you
remarked this fact?
[Her.] To be sure I have, and what you say is true.
[Soc.] But the name, in my opinion, is really most expressive
of the power of the God.
[Her.] How so?
[Soc.] I will endeavour to explain, for I do not believe that
any single name could have been better adapted to express the
attributes of the God, embracing and in a manner signifying all
four of them,- music, and prophecy, and medicine, and archery.
[Her.] That must be a strange name, and I should like to hear
the explanation.
[Soc.] Say rather an harmonious name, as beseems the God of
Harmony. In the first place, the purgations and purifications
which doctors and diviners use, and their fumigations with drugs
magical or medicinal, as well as their washings and lustral
sprinklings, have all one and the same object, which is to make a
man pure both in body and soul.
[Her.] Very true.
[Soc.] And is not Apollo the purifier, and the washer, and the
absolver from all impurities?
[Her.] Very true.
[Soc.] Then in reference to his ablutions and absolutions, as
being the physician who orders them, he may be rightly called
Apolouon (purifier); or in respect of his powers of divination,
and his truth and sincerity, which is the same as truth, he may
be most fitly called Aplos, from aplous (sincere), as in the
Thessalian dialect, for all the Thessalians call him Aplos; also
he is Ballon (always shooting), because he is a master archer who
never misses; or again, the name may refer to his musical
attributes, and then, as in akolouthos, and akoitis, and in many
other words the a is supposed to mean "together," so
the meaning of the name Apollo will be "moving together,"
whether in the poles of heaven as they are called, or in the
harmony of song, which is termed concord, because he moves all
together by an harmonious power, as astronomers and musicians
ingeniously declare. And he is the God who presides over harmony,
and makes all things move together, both among Gods and among men.
And as in the words akolouthos and akoitis the a is substituted
for an o, so the name Apollon is equivalent to omopolon; only the
second l is added in order to avoid the ill-omened sound of
destruction (apolon). Now the suspicion of this destructive power
still haunts the minds of some who do not consider the true value
of the name, which, as I was saying just now, has reference to
all the powers of the God, who is the single one, the
everdarting, the purifier, the mover together (aplous, aei
Ballon, apolouon, omopolon). The name of the Muses and of music
would seem to be derived from their making philosophical
enquiries (mosthai); and Leto is called by this name, because she
is such a gentle Goddess, and so willing (ethelemon) to grant our
requests; or her name may be Letho, as she is often called by
strangers- they seem to imply by it her amiability, and her
smooth and easy-going way of behaving. Artemis is named from her
healthy (artemes), well-ordered nature, and because of her love
of virginity, perhaps because she is a proficient in virtue (arete),
and perhaps also as hating intercourse of the sexes (ton aroton
miseasa). He who gave the Goddess her name may have had any or
all of these reasons.
[Her.] What is the meaning of Dionysus and Aphrodite?
[Soc.] Son of Hipponicus, you ask a solemn question; there is
a serious and also a facetious explanation of both these names;
the serious explanation is not to be had from me, but there is no
objection to your hearing the facetious one; for the Gods too
love a joke. Dionusos is simply didous oinon (giver of wine), as
he might be called in fun,- and oinos is properly oionous,
because wine makes those who drink, think (oiesthai) that they
have a mind (noun) when they have none. The derivation of
Aphrodite, born of the foam (aphoros), may be fairly accepted on
the authority of Hesiod.
[Her.] Still there remains Athene, whom you, Socrates, as an
Athenian, will surely not forget; there are also Hephaestus and
Ares.
[Soc.] I am not likely to forget them.
[Her.] No, indeed.
[Soc.] There is no difficulty in explaining the other
appellation of Athene.
[Her.] What other appellation?
[Soc.] We call her Pallas.
[Her.] To be sure.
[Soc.] And we cannot be wrong in supposing that this is
derived from armed dances. For the elevation of oneself or
anything else above the earth, or by the use of the hands, we
call shaking (pallein), or dancing.
[Her.] That is quite true.
[Soc.] Then that is the explanation of the name Pallas?
[Her.] Yes; but what do you say of the other name?
[Soc.] Athene?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] That is a graver matter, and there, my friend, the
modern interpreters of Homer may, I think, assist in explaining
the view of the ancients. For most of these in their explanations
of the poet, assert that he meant by Athene "mind" (nous)
and "intelligence" (dianoia), and the maker of names
appears to have had a singular notion about her; and indeed calls
her by a still higher title, "divine intelligence" (Thou
noesis), as though he would say: This is she who has the mind of
God (Theonoa);- using a as a dialectical variety e, and taking
away i and s. Perhaps, however, the name Theonoe may mean "she
who knows divine things" (Theia noousa) better than others.
Nor shall we be far wrong in supposing that the author of it
wished to identify this Goddess with moral intelligence (en ethei
noesin), and therefore gave her the name ethonoe; which, however,
either he or his successors have altered into what they thought a
nicer form, and called her Athene.
[Her.] But what do you say of Hephaestus?
[Soc.] Speak you of the princely lord of light (Phaeos istora)?
[Her.] Surely.
[Soc.] Ephaistos is Phaistos, and has added the e by
attraction; that is obvious to anybody.
[Her.] That is very probable, until some more probable notion
gets into your head.
[Soc.] To prevent that, you had better ask what is the
derivation of Ares.
[Her.] What is Ares?
[Soc.] Ares may be called, if you will, from his manhood (arren)
and manliness, or if you please, from his hard and unchangeable
nature, which is the meaning of arratos: the latter is a
derivation in every way appropriate to the God of war.
[Her.] Very true.
[Soc.] And now, by the Gods, let us have no more of the Gods,
for I am afraid of them; ask about anything but them, and thou
shalt see how the steeds of Euthyphro can prance.
[Her.] Only one more God! I should like to know about Hermes,
of whom I am said not to be a true son. Let us make him out, and
then I shall know whether there is any meaning in what Cratylus
says.
[Soc.] I should imagine that the name Hermes has to do with
speech, and signifies that he is the interpreter (ermeneus), or
messenger, or thief, or liar, or bargainer; all that sort of
thing has a great deal to do with language; as I was telling you
the word eirein is expressive of the use of speech, and there is
an often-recurring Homeric word emesato, which means "he
contrived"- out of these two words, eirein and mesasthai,
the legislator formed the name of the God who invented language
and speech; and we may imagine him dictating to us the use of
this name: "O my friends," says he to us, "seeing
that he is the contriver of tales or speeches, you may rightly
call him Eirhemes." And this has been improved by us, as we
think, into Hermes. Iris also appears to have been called from
the verb "to tell" (eirein), because she was a
messenger.
[Her.] Then I am very sure that Cratylus was quite right in
saying that I was no true son of Hermes (Ermogenes), for I am not
a good hand at speeches.
[Soc.] There is also reason, my friend, in Pan being the
double-formed son of Hermes.
[Her.] How do you make that out?
[Soc.] You are aware that speech signifies all things (pan),
and is always turning them round and round, and has two forms,
true and false?
[Her.] Certainly.
[Soc.] Is not the truth that is in him the smooth or sacred
form which dwells above among the Gods, whereas falsehood dwells
among men below, and is rough like the goat of tragedy; for tales
and falsehoods have generally to do with the tragic or goatish
life, and tragedy is the place of them?
[Her.] Very true.
[Soc.] Then surely Pan, who is the declarer of all things (pan)
and the perpetual mover (aei polon) of all things, is rightly
called aipolos (goat-herd), he being the two-formed son of
Hermes, smooth in his upper part, and rough and goatlike in his
lower regions. And, as the son of Hermes, he is speech or the
brother of speech, and that brother should be like brother is no
marvel. But, as I was saying, my dear Hermogenes, let us get away
from the Gods.
[Her.] From these sort of Gods, by all means, Socrates. But
why should we not discuss another kind of Gods- the sun, moon,
stars, earth, aether, air, fire, water, the seasons, and the
year?
[Soc.] You impose a great many tasks upon me. Still, if you
wish, I will not refuse.
[Her.] You will oblige me.
[Soc.] How would you have me begin? Shall I take first of all
him whom you mentioned first- the sun?
[Her.] Very good.
[Soc.] The origin of the sun will probably be clearer in the
Doric form, for the Dorians call him alios, and this name is
given to him because when he rises he gathers (alizoi) men
together or because he is always rolling in his course (aei
eilein ion) about the earth; or from aiolein, of which meaning is
the same as poikillein (to variegate), because he variegates the
productions of the earth.
[Her.] But what is selene (the moon)?
[Soc.] That name is rather unfortunate for Anaxagoras.
[Her.] How so?
[Soc.] The word seems to forestall his recent discovery, that
the moon receives her light from the sun.
[Her.] Why do you say so?
[Soc.] The two words selas (brightness) and phos (light) have
much the same meaning?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] This light about the moon is always new (neon) and
always old (enon), if the disciples of Anaxagoras say truly. For
the sun in his revolution always adds new light, and there is the
old light of the previous month.
[Her.] Very true.
[Soc.] The moon is not unfrequently called selanaia.
[Her.] True.
[Soc.] And as she has a light which is always old and always
new (enon neon aei) she may very properly have the name
selaenoneoaeia; and this when hammered into shape becomes
selanaia.
[Her.] A real dithyrambic sort of name that, Socrates. But
what do you say of the month and the stars?
[Soc.] Meis (month) is called from meiousthai (to lessen),
because suffering diminution; the name of astra (stars) seems to
be derived from astrape, which is an improvement on anastphope,
signifying the upsetting of the eyes (anastrephein opa).
[Her.] What do you say of pur (fire) and udor (water)?
[Soc.] I am at a loss how to explain pur; either the muse of
Euthyphro has deserted me, or there is some very great difficulty
in the word. Please, however, to note the contrivance which I
adopt whenever I am in a difficulty of this sort.
[Her.] What is it?
[Soc.] I will tell you; but I should like to know first
whether you can tell me what is the meaning of the pur?
[Her.] Indeed I cannot.
[Soc.] Shall I tell you what I suspect to be the true
explanation of this and several other words?- My belief is that
they are of foreign origin. For the Hellenes, especially those
who were under the dominion of the barbarians, often borrowed
from them.
[Her.] What is the inference?
[Soc.] Why, you know that any one who seeks to demonstrate the
fitness of these names according to the Hellenic language, and
not according to the language from which the words are derived,
is rather likely to be at fault.
[Her.] Yes, certainly.
[Soc.] Well then, consider whether this pur is not foreign;
for the word is not easily brought into relation with the
Hellenic tongue, and the Phrygians may be observed to have the
same word slightly changed, just as they have udor (water) and
kunes (dogs), and many other words.
[Her.] That is true.
[Soc.] Any violent interpretations of the words should be
avoided; for something to say about them may easily be found. And
thus I get rid of pur and udor. Aer (air), Hermogenes, may be
explained as the element which raises (airei) things from the
earth, or as ever flowing (aei pei), or because the flux of the
air is wind, and the poets call the winds "air-blasts,"
(aetai); he who uses the term may mean, so to speak, air-flux (aetorroun),
in the sense of wind-flux (pneumatorroun); and because this
moving wind may be expressed by either term he employs the word
air (aer = aetes rheo). Aither (aether) I should interpret as
aeitheer; this may be correctly said, because this element is
always running in a flux about the air (aei thei peri tou aera
ron). The meaning of the word ge (earth) comes out better when in
the form of gaia, for the earth may be truly called "mother"
(gaia, genneteira), as in the language of Homer (Od. ix. 118;
xiii. 160) gegaasi means gegennesthai.
[Her.] Good.
[Soc.] What shall we take next?
[Her.] There are orai (the seasons), and the two names of the
year, eniautos and etos.
[Soc.] The orai should be spelt in the old Attic way, if you
desire to know the probable truth about them; they are rightly
called the orai because they divide (orizousin) the summers and
winters and winds and the fruits of the earth. The words eniautos
and etos appear to be the same,- "that which brings to light
the plants and growths of the earth in their turn, and passes
them in review within itself (en eauto exetazei)": this is
broken up into two words, eniautos from en eauto, and etos from
etazei, just as the original name of Zeus was divided into Zena
and Dia; and the whole proposition means that his power of
reviewing from within is one, but has two names, two words etos
and eniautos being thus formed out of a single proposition.
[Her.] Indeed, Socrates, you make surprising progress.
[Soc.] I am run away with.
[Her.] Very true.
[Soc.] But am not yet at my utmost speed.
[Her.] I should like very much to know, in the next place, how
you would explain the virtues. What principle of correctness is
there in those charming words- wisdom, understanding, justice,
and the rest of them?
[Soc.] That is a tremendous class of names which you are
disinterring; still, as I have put on the lion's skin, I must not
be faint of heart; and I suppose that I must consider the meaning
of wisdom (phronesis) and understanding (sunesis), and judgment (gnome),
and knowledge (episteme), and all those other charming words, as
you call them?
[Her.] Surely, we must not leave off until we find out their
meaning.
[Soc.] By the dog of Egypt I have not a bad notion which came
into my head only this moment: I believe that the primeval givers
of names were undoubtedly like too many of our modern
philosophers, who, in their search after the nature of things,
are always getting dizzy from constantly going round and round,
and then they imagine that the world is going round and round and
moving in all directions; and this appearance, which arises out
of their own internal condition, they suppose to be a reality of
nature; they think that there is nothing stable or permanent, but
only flux and motion, and that the world is always full of every
sort of motion and change. The consideration of the names which I
mentioned has led me into making this reflection.
[Her.] How is that, Socrates?
[Soc.] Perhaps you did not observe that in the names which
have been just cited, the motion or flux or generation of things
is most surely indicated.
[Her.] No, indeed, I never thought of it.
[Soc.] Take the first of those which you mentioned; clearly
that is a name indicative of motion.
[Her.] What was the name?
[Soc.] Phronesis (wisdom), which may signify Phoras kai rhou
noesis (perception of motion and flux), or perhaps Phoras onesis
(the blessing of motion), but is at any rate connected with
Pheresthai (motion); gnome (judgment), again, certainly implies
the ponderation or consideration (nomesis) of generation, for to
ponder is the same as to consider; or, if you would rather, here
is noesis, the very word just now mentioned, which is neou esis (the
desire of the new); the word neos implies that the world is
always in process of creation. The giver of the name wanted to
express his longing of the soul, for the original name was
neoesis, and not noesis. The word sophrosune is the salvation (soteria)
of that wisdom (phronesis) which we were just now considering.
Epioteme (knowledge) is akin to this, and indicates that the soul
which is good for anything follows (epetai) the motion of things,
neither anticipating them nor falling behind them; wherefor the
word should rather be read as epistemene, inserting en. Sunesis (understanding)
may be regarded in like manner as a kind of conclusion; the word
is derived from sunienai (to go along with), and, like
epistasthai (to know), implies the progression of the soul in
company with the nature of things. Sophia (wisdom) is very dark,
and appears not to be of native growth; the meaning is, touching
the motion or stream of things. You must remember that the poets,
when they speak of the commencement of any rapid motion, often
use the word esuthe (he rushed); and there was a famous
Lacedaemonian who was named Sous (Rush), for by this word the
Lacedaemonians signify rapid motion, and the touching (epaphe) of
motion is expressed by sophia, for all things are supposed to be
in motion. Good (agathon) is the name which is given to the
admirable (agasto) in nature; for, although all things move,
still there are degrees of motion; some are swifter, some slower;
but there are some things which are admirable for their
swiftness, and this admirable part of nature is called agathon.
Dikaiosune (justice) is clearly dikaiou sunesis (understanding of
the just); but the actual word dikaion is more difficult: men are
only agreed to a certain extent about justice, and then they
begin to disagree.
For those who suppose all things to be in motion conceive the
greater part of nature to be a mere receptacle; and they say that
there is a penetrating power which passes through all this, and
is the instrument of creation in all, and is the subtlest and
swiftest element; for if it were not the subtlest, and a power
which none can keep out, and also the swiftest, passing by other
things as if they were standing still, it could not penetrate
through the moving universe. And this element, which superintends
all things and pieces (diaion) all, is rightly called dikaion;
the letter k is only added for the sake of euphony. Thus far, as
I was saying, there is a general agreement about the nature of
justice; but I, Hermogenes, being an enthusiastic disciple, have
been told in a mystery that the justice of which I am speaking is
also the cause of the world: now a cause is that because of which
anything is created; and some one comes and whispers in my ear
that justice is rightly so called because partaking of the nature
of the cause, and I begin, after hearing what he has said, to
interrogate him gently: "Well, my excellent friend,"
say I, "but if all this be true, I still want to know what
is justice." Thereupon they think that I ask tiresome
questions, and am leaping over the barriers, and have been
already sufficiently answered, and they try to satisfy me with
one derivation after another, and at length they quarrel. For one
of them says that justice is the sun, and that he only is the
piercing (diaionta) and burning (kaonta) element which is the
guardian of nature. And when I joyfully repeat this beautiful
notion, I am answered by the satirical remark, "What, is
there no justice in the world when the sun is down?" And
when I earnestly beg my questioner to tell me his own honest
opinion, he says, "Fire in the abstract"; but this is
not very intelligible. Another says, "No, not fire in the
abstract, but the abstraction of heat in the fire." Another
man professes to laugh at all this, and says, as Anaxagoras says,
that justice is mind, for mind, as they say, has absolute power,
and mixes with nothing, and orders all things, and passes through
all things. At last, my friend, I find myself in far greater
perplexity about the nature of justice than I was before I began
to learn. But still I am of opinion that the name, which has led
me into this digression, was given to justice for the reasons
which I have mentioned.
[Her.] I think, Socrates, that you are not improvising now;
you must have heard this from some one else.
[Soc.] And not the rest?
[Her.] Hardly.
[Soc.] Well, then, let me go on in the hope of making you
believe in the originality of the rest. What remains after
justice? I do not think that we have as yet discussed courage (andreia),-
injustice (adikia), which is obviously nothing more than a
hindrance to the penetrating principle (diaiontos), need not be
considered. Well, then, the name of andreia seems to imply a
battle;- this battle is in the world of existence, and according
to the doctrine of flux is only the counterflux (enantia rhon):
if you extract the d from andreia, the name at once signifies the
thing, and you may clearly understand that andreia is not the
stream opposed to every stream, but only to that which is
contrary to justice, for otherwise courage would not have been
praised. The words arren (male) and aner (man) also contain a
similar allusion to the same principle of the upward flux (te ano
rhon). Gune (woman) I suspect to be the same word as goun (birth):
thelu (female) appears to be partly derived from thele (the teat),
because the teat is like rain, and makes things flourish (tethelenai).
[Her.] That is surely probable.
[Soc.] Yes; and the very word thallein (to flourish) seems to
figure the growth of youth, which is swift and sudden ever. And
this is expressed by the legislator in the name, which is a
compound of thein (running), and allesthai (leaping). Pray
observe how I gallop away when I get on smooth ground. There are
a good many names generally thought to be of importance, which
have still to be explained.
[Her.] True.
[Soc.] There is the meaning of the word techne (art), for
example.
[Her.] Very true.
[Soc.] That may be identified with echonoe, and expresses the
possession of mind: you have only to take away the t and insert
two o's, one between the ch and n, and another between the n and
e.
[Her.] That is a very shabby etymology.
[Soc.] Yes, my dear friend; but then you know that the
original names have been long ago buried and disguised by people
sticking on and stripping off letters for the sake of euphony,
and twisting and bedizening them in all sorts of ways: and time
too may have had a share in the change. Take, for example, the
word katoptron; why is the letter r inserted? This must surely be
the addition of some one who cares nothing about the truth, but
thinks only of putting the mouth into shape. And the additions
are often such that at last no human being can possibly make out
the original meaning of the word. Another example is the word
sphigx, sphiggos, which ought properly to be phigx, phiggos, and
there are other examples.
[Her.] That is quite true, Socrates.
[Soc.] And yet, if you are permitted to put in and pull out
any letters which you please, names will be too easily made, and
any name may be adapted to any object.
[Her.] True.
[Soc.] Yes, that is true. And therefore a wise dictator, like
yourself, should observe the laws of moderation and probability.
[Her.] Such is my desire.
[Soc.] And mine, too, Hermogenes. But do not be too much of a
precisian, or "you will unnerve me of my strength."
When you have allowed me to add mechane (contrivance) to techne (art)
I shall be at the top of my bent, for I conceive mechane to be a
sign of great accomplishment- anein; for mekos the meaning of
greatness, and these two, mekos and anein, make up the word
mechane. But, as I was saying, being now at the top of my bent, I
should like to consider the meaning of the two words arete (virtue)
and kakia (vice) arete I do not as yet understand, but kakia is
transparent, and agrees with the principles which preceded, for
all things being in a flux (ionton), kakia is kakos ion (going
badly); and this evil motion when existing in the soul has the
general name of kakia or vice, specially appropriated to it. The
meaning of kakos ienai may be further illustrated by the use of
deilia (cowardice), which ought to have come after andreia, but
was forgotten, and, as I fear, is not the only word which has
been passed over. Deilia signifies that the soul is bound with a
strong chain (desmos), for lian means strength, and therefore
deilia expresses the greatest and strongest bond of the soul; and
aporia (difficulty) is an evil of the same nature (from a not,
and poreuesthai to go), like anything else which is an impediment
to motion and movement. Then the word kakia appears to mean kakos
ienai, or going badly, or limping and halting; of which the
consequence is, that the soul becomes filled with vice. And if
kakia is the name of this sort of thing, arete will be the
opposite of it, signifying in the first place ease of motion,
then that the stream of the good soul is unimpeded, and has
therefore the attribute of ever flowing without let or hindrance,
and is therefore called arete, or, more correctly, aeireite (ever-flowing),
and may perhaps have had another form, airete (eligible),
indicating that nothing is more eligible than virtue, and this
has been hammered into arete. I daresay that you will deem this
to be another invention of mine, but I think that if the previous
word kakia was right, then arete is also right.
[Her.] But what is the meaning of kakon, which has played so
great a part in your previous discourse?
[Soc.] That is a very singular word about which I can hardly
form an opinion, and therefore I must have recourse to my
ingenious device.
[Her.] What device?
[Soc.] The device of a foreign origin, which I shall give to
this word also.
[Her.] Very likely you are right; but suppose that we leave
these words and endeavour to see the rationale of kalon and
aischron.
[Soc.] The meaning of aischron is evident, being only aei
ischon roes (always preventing from flowing), and this is in
accordance with our former derivations. For the name-giver was a
great enemy to stagnation of all sorts, and hence he gave the
name aeischoroun to that which hindered the flux (aei ischon roun),
and that is now beaten together into aischron.
[Her.] But what do you say of kalon?
[Soc.] That is more obscure; yet the form is only due to the
quantity, and has been changed by altering ou into o.
[Her.] What do you mean?
[Soc.] This name appears to denote mind.
[Her.] How so?
[Soc.] Let me ask you what is the cause why anything has a
name; is not the principle which imposes the name the cause?
[Her.] Certainly.
[Soc.] And must not this be the mind of Gods, or of men, or of
both?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] Is not mind that which called (kalesan) things by their
names, and is not mind the beautiful (kalon)?
[Her.] That is evident.
[Soc.] And are not the works of intelligence and mind worthy
of praise, and are not other works worthy of blame?
[Her.] Certainly.
[Soc.] Physic does the work of a physician, and carpentering
does the works of a carpenter?
[Her.] Exactly.
[Soc.] And the principle of beauty does the works of beauty?
[Her.] Of course.
[Soc.] And that principle we affirm to be mind?
[Her.] Very true.
[Soc.] Then mind is rightly called beauty because she does the
works which we recognize and speak of as the beautiful?
[Her.] That is evident.
[Soc.] What more names remain to us?
[Her.] There are the words which are connected with agathon
and kalon, such as sumpheron and lusiteloun, ophelimon,
kerdaleon, and their opposites.
[Soc.] The meaning of sumpheron (expedient) I think that you
may discover for yourself by the light of the previous examples,-
for it is a sister word to episteme, meaning just the motion (pora)
of the soul accompanying the world, and things which are done
upon this principle are called sumphora or sumpheronta, because
they are carried round with the world.
[Her.] That is probable.
[Soc.] Again, cherdaleon (gainful) is called from cherdos (gain),
but you must alter the d into n if you want to get at the
meaning; for this word also signifies good, but in another way;
he who gave the name intended to express the power of admixture (kerannumenon)
and universal penetration in the good; in forming the word,
however, he inserted a d instead of an n, and so made kerdos.
[Her.] Well, but what is lusiteloun (profitable)?
[Soc.] I suppose, Hermogenes, that people do not mean by the
profitable the gainful or that which pays (luei) the retailer,
but they use the word in the sense of swift. You regard the
profitable (lusitelou), as that which being the swiftest thing in
existence, allows of no stay in things and no pause or end of
motion, but always, if there begins to be any end, lets things go
again (luei), and makes motion immortal and unceasing: and in
this point of view, as appears to me, the good is happily
denominated lusiteloun- being that which looses (luon) the end (telos)
of motion. Ophelimon (the advantageous) is derived from
ophellein, meaning that which creates and increases; this latter
is a common Homeric word, and has a foreign character.
[Her.] And what do you say of their opposites?
[Soc.] Of such as mere negatives I hardly think that I need
speak.
[Her.] Which are they?
[Soc.] The words axumphoron (inexpedient), anopheles (unprofitable),
alusiteles (unadvantageous), akerdes (ungainful).
[Her.] True.
[Soc.] I would rather take the words blaberon (harmful),
zemiodes (hurtful).
[Her.] Good.
[Soc.] The word blaberon is that which is said to hinder or
harm (blaptein) the stream (roun); blapton is boulomenon aptein (seeking
to hold or bind); for aptein is the same as dein, and dein is
always a term of censure; boulomenon aptein roun (wanting to bind
the stream) would properly be boulapteroun, and this, as I
imagine, is improved into blaberon.
[Her.] You bring out curious results, Socrates, in the use of
names; and when I hear the word boulapteroun I cannot help
imagining that you are making your mouth into a flute, and
puffing away at some prelude to Athene.
[Soc.] That is the fault of the makers of the name,
Hermogenes; not mine.
[Her.] Very true; but what is the derivation of zemiodes?
[Soc.] What is the meaning of zemiodes?- let me remark,
Hermogenes, how right I was in saying that great changes are made
in the meaning of words by putting in and pulling out letters;
even a very slight permutation will sometimes give an entirely
opposite sense; I may instance the word deon, which occurs to me
at the moment, and reminds me of what I was going to say to you,
that the fine fashionable language of modern times has twisted
and disguised and entirely altered the original meaning both of
deon, and also of zemiodes, which in the old language is clearly
indicated.
[Her.] What do you mean?
[Soc.] I will try to explain. You are aware that our
forefathers loved the sounds i and d, especially the women, who
are most conservative of the ancient language, but now they
change i into e (long) or e (short), and d into z; this is
supposed to increase the grandeur of the sound.
[Her.] How do you mean?
[Soc.] For example, in very ancient times they called the day
either imera or emera (short e), which is called by us emera (long
e).
[Her.] That is true.
[Soc.] Do you observe that only the ancient form shows the
intention of the giver of the name? of which the reason is, that
men long for (imeirousi) and love the light which comes after the
darkness, and is therefore called imera, from imeros, desire.
[Her.] Clearly.
[Soc.] But now the name is so travestied that you cannot tell
the meaning, although there are some who imagine the day to be
called emuera because it makes things gentle (emera).
[Her.] Such is my view.
[Soc.] And do you know that the ancients said dougon and not
zugon?
[Her.] They did so.
[Soc.] And zugon (yoke) has no meaning,- it ought to be
duogon, which word expresses the binding of two together (duein
agoge) for the purpose of drawing;- this has been changed into
zugon, and there are many other examples of similar changes.
[Her.] There are.
[Soc.] Proceeding in the same train of thought I may remark
that the word deon (obligation) has a meaning which is the
opposite of all the other appellations of good; for deon is here
a species of good, and is, nevertheless, the chain (desmos) or
hinderer of motion, and therefore own brother of blaberon.
[Her.] Yes, Socrates; that is quite plain.
[Soc.] Not if you restore the ancient form, which is more
likely to be the correct one, and read dion instead of deon; if
you convert the e into an i after the old fashion, this word will
then agree with other words meaning good; for dion, not deon,
signifies the good, and is a term of praise; and the author of
names has not contradicted himself, but in all these various
appellations, deon (obligatory), ophelimon (advantageous),
lusiteloun (profitable), kerdaleon (gainful), agathon (good),
sumpheron (expedient), euporon (plenteous), the same conception
is implied of the ordering or all-pervading principle which is
praised, and the restraining and binding principle which is
censured. And this is further illustrated by the word zemiodes (hurtful),
which if the z is only changed into d as in the ancient language,
becomes demiodes; and this name, as you will perceive, is given
to that which binds motion (dounti ion).
[Her.] What do you say of edone (pleasure), lupe (pain),
epithumia (desire), and the like, Socrates?
[Soc.] I do not think, Hermogenes, that there is any great
difficulty about them- edone is e onesis, the action which tends
to advantage; and the original form may be supposed to have been
eone, but this has been altered by the insertion of the d. Lupe
appears to be derived from the relaxation (luein) which the body
feels when in sorrow; ania (trouble) is the hindrance of motion (a
and ienai); algedon (distress), if I am not mistaken, is a
foreign word, which is derived from aleinos (grievous); odune (grief)
is called from the putting on (endusis) sorrow; in achthedon (vexation)
"the word too labours," as any one may see; chara (joy)
is the very expression of the fluency and diffusion of the soul (cheo);
terpsis (delight) is so called from the pleasure creeping (erpon)
through the soul, which may be likened to a breath (pnoe) and is
properly erpnoun, but has been altered by time into terpnon;
eupherosune (cheerfulness) and epithumia explain themselves; the
former, which ought to be eupherosune and has been changed
euphrosune, is named, as every one may see, from the soul moving
(pheresthai) in harmony with nature; epithumia is really e epi
ton thumon iousa dunamis, the power which enters into the soul;
thumos (passion) is called from the rushing (thuseos) and boiling
of the soul; imeros (desire) denotes the stream (rous) which most
draws the soul dia ten esin tes roes- because flowing with desire
(iemenos), and expresses a longing after things and violent
attraction of the soul to them, and is termed imeros from
possessing this power; pothos (longing) is expressive of the
desire of that which is not present but absent, and in another
place (pou); this is the reason why the name pothos is applied to
things absent, as imeros is to things present; eros (love) is so
called because flowing in (esron) from without; the stream is not
inherent, but is an influence introduced through the eyes, and
from flowing in was called esros (influx) in the old time when
they used o (short) for o (long), and is called eros, now that o
(long) is substituted for o (short). But why do you not give me
another word?
[Her.] What do you think of doxa (opinion), and that class of
words?
[Soc.] Doxa is either derived from dioxis (pursuit), and
expresses the march of the soul in the pursuit of knowledge, or
from the shooting of a bow (toxon); the latter is more likely,
and is confirmed by oiesis (thinking), which is only oisis (moving),
and implies the movement of the soul to the essential nature of
each thing- just as boule (counsel) has to do with shooting (bole);
and boulesthai (to wish) combines the notion of aiming and
deliberating- all these words seem to follow doxa, and all
involve the idea of shooting, just as aboulia, absence of
counsel, on the other hand, is a mishap, or missing, or mistaking
of the mark, or aim, or proposal, or object.
[Her.] You are quickening your pace now, Socrates.
[Soc.] Why yes, the end I now dedicate to God, not, however,
until I have explained anagke (necessity), which ought to come
next, and ekousion (the voluntary). Ekousion is certainly the
yielding (eikon) and unresisting- the notion implied is yielding
and not opposing, yielding, as I was just now saying, to that
motion which is in accordance with our will; but the necessary
and resistant being contrary to our will, implies error and
ignorance; the idea is taken from walking through a ravine which
is impassable, and rugged, and overgrown, and impedes motion- and
this is the derivation of the word anagkaion (necessary) an agke
ion, going through a ravine. But while my strength lasts let us
persevere, and I hope that you will persevere with your questions.
[Her.] Well, then, let me ask about the greatest and noblest,
such as aletheia (truth) and pseudos (falsehood) and on (being),
not forgetting to enquire why the word onoma (name), which is the
theme of our discussion, has this name of onoma.
[Soc.] You know the word maiesthai (to seek)?
[Her.] Yes;- meaning the same as zetein (to enquire).
[Soc.] The word onoma seems to be a compressed sentence,
signifying on ou zetema (being for which there is a search); as
is still more obvious in onomaston (notable), which states in so
many words that real existence is that for which there is a
seeking (on ou masma); aletheia is also an agglomeration of theia
ale (divine wandering), implying the divine motion of existence;
pseudos (falsehood) is the opposite of motion; here is another
ill name given by the legislator to stagnation and forced
inaction, which he compares to sleep (eudein); but the original
meaning of the word is disguised by the addition of ps; on and
ousia are ion with an i broken off; this agrees with the true
principle, for being (on) is also moving (ion), and the same may
be said of not being, which is likewise called not going (oukion
or ouki on = ouk ion).
[Her.] You have hammered away at them manfully; but suppose
that some one were to say to you, what is the word ion, and what
are reon and doun?- show me their fitness.
[Soc.] You mean to say, how should I answer him?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] One way of giving the appearance of an answer has been
already suggested.
[Her.] What way?
[Soc.] To say that names which we do not understand are of
foreign origin; and this is very likely the right answer, and
something of this kind may be true of them; but also the original
forms of words may have been lost in the lapse of ages; names
have been so twisted in all manner of ways, that I should not be
surprised if the old language when compared with that now in use
would appear to us to be a barbarous tongue.
[Her.] Very likely.
[Soc.] Yes, very likely. But still the enquiry demands our
earnest attention and we must not flinch. For we should remember,
that if a person go on analysing names into words, and enquiring
also into the elements out of which the words are formed, and
keeps on always repeating this process, he who has to answer him
must at last give up the enquiry in despair.
[Her.] Very true.
[Soc.] And at what point ought he to lose heart and give up
the enquiry? Must he not stop when he comes to the names which
are the elements of all other names and sentences; for these
cannot be supposed to be made up of other names? The word agathon
(good), for example, is, as we were saying, a compound of agastos
(admirable) and thoos (swift). And probably thoos is made up of
other elements, and these again of others. But if we take a word
which is incapable of further resolution, then we shall be right
in saying that we have at last reached a primary element, which
need not be resolved any further.
[Her.] I believe you to be in the right.
[Soc.] And suppose the names about which you are now asking
should turn out to be primary elements, must not their truth or
law be examined according to some new method?
[Her.] Very likely.
[Soc.] Quite so, Hermogenes; all that has preceded would lead
to this conclusion. And if, as I think, the conclusion is true,
then I shall again say to you, come and help me, that I may not
fall into some absurdity in stating the principle of primary
names.
[Her.] Let me hear, and I will do my best to assist you.
[Soc.] I think that you will acknowledge with me, that one
principle is applicable to all names, primary as well as
secondary- when they are regarded simply as names, there is no
difference in them.
[Her.] Certainly not.
[Soc.] All the names that we have been explaining were
intended to indicate the nature of things.
[Her.] Of course.
[Soc.] And that this is true of the primary quite as much as
of the secondary names, is implied in their being names.
[Her.] Surely.
[Soc.] But the secondary, as I conceive, derive their
significance from the primary.
[Her.] That is evident.
[Soc.] Very good; but then how do the primary names which
precede analysis show the natures of things, as far as they can
be shown; which they must do, if they are to be real names? And
here I will ask you a question: Suppose that we had no voice or
tongue, and wanted to communicate with one another, should we
not, like the deaf and dumb, make signs with the hands and head
and the rest of the body?
[Her.] There would be no choice, Socrates.
[Soc.] We should imitate the nature of the thing; the
elevation of our hands to heaven would mean lightness and
upwardness; heaviness and downwardness would be expressed by
letting them drop to the ground; if we were describing the
running of a horse, or any other animal, we should make our
bodies and their gestures as like as we could to them.
[Her.] I do not see that we could do anything else.
[Soc.] We could not; for by bodily imitation only can the body
ever express anything.
[Her.] Very true.
[Soc.] And when we want to express ourselves, either with the
voice, or tongue, or mouth, the expression is simply their
imitation of that which we want to express.
[Her.] It must be so, I think.
[Soc.] Then a name is a vocal imitation of that which the
vocal imitator names or imitates?
[Her.] I think so.
[Soc.] Nay, my friend, I am disposed to think that we have not
reached the truth as yet.
[Her.] Why not?
[Soc.] Because if we have we shall be obliged to admit that
the people who imitate sheep, or cocks, or other animals, name
that which they imitate.
[Her.] Quite true.
[Soc.] Then could I have been right in what I was saying?
[Her.] In my opinion, no. But I wish that you would tell me,
Socrates, what sort of an imitation is a name?
[Soc.] In the first place, I should reply, not a musical
imitation, although that is also vocal; nor, again, an imitation
of what music imitates; these, in my judgment, would not be
naming. Let me put the matter as follows: All objects have sound
and figure, and many have colour?
[Her.] Certainly.
[Soc.] But the art of naming appears not to be concerned with
imitations of this kind; the arts which have to do with them are
music and drawing?
[Her.] True.
[Soc.] Again, is there not an essence of each thing, just as
there is a colour, or sound? And is there not an essence of
colour and sound as well as of anything else which may be said to
have an essence?
[Her.] I should think so.
[Soc.] Well, and if any one could express the essence of each
thing in letters and syllables, would he not express the nature
of each thing?
[Her.] Quite so.
[Soc.] The musician and the painter were the two names which
you gave to the two other imitators. What will this imitator be
called?
[Her.] I imagine, Socrates, that he must be the namer, or name-giver,
of whom we are in search.
[Soc.] If this is true, then I think that we are in a
condition to consider the names ron (stream), ienai (to go),
schesis (retention), about which you were asking; and we may see
whether the namer has grasped the nature of them in letters and
syllables in such a manner as to imitate the essence or not.
[Her.] Very good.
[Soc.] But are these the only primary names, or are there
others?
[Her.] There must be others.
[Soc.] So I should expect. But how shall we further analyse
them, and where does the imitator begin? Imitation of the essence
is made by syllables and letters; ought we not, therefore, first
to separate the letters, just as those who are beginning rhythm
first distinguish the powers of elementary, and then of compound
sounds, and when they have done so, but not before, they proceed
to the consideration of rhythms?
[Her.] Yes.
[Soc.] Must we not begin in the same way with letters; first
separating the vowels, and then the consonants and mutes, into
classes, according to the received distinctions of the learned;
also the semivowels, which are neither vowels, nor yet mutes; and
distinguishing into classes the vowels themselves? And when we
have perfected the classification of things, we shall give their
names, and see whether, as in the case of letters, there are any
classes to which they may be all referred; hence we shall see
their natures, and see, too, whether they have in them classes as
there are in the letters; and when we have well considered all
this, we shall know how to apply them to what they resemble-
whether one letter is used to denote one thing, or whether there
is to be an admixture of several of them; just, as in painting,
the painter who wants to depict anything sometimes uses purple
only, or any other colour, and sometimes mixes up several
colours, as his method is when he has to paint flesh colour or
anything of that kind- he uses his colours as his figures appear
to require them; and so, too, we shall apply letters to the
expression of objects, either single letters when required, or
several letters; and so we shall form syllables, as they are
called, and from syllables make nouns and verbs; and thus, at
last, from the combinations of nouns and verbs arrive at
language, large and fair and whole; and as the painter made a
figure, even so shall we make speech by the art of the namer or
the rhetorician, or by some other art. Not that I am literally
speaking of ourselves, but I was carried away- meaning to say
that this was the way in which (not we but) the ancients formed
language, and what they put together we must take to pieces in
like manner, if we are to attain a scientific view of the whole
subject, and we must see whether the primary, and also whether
the secondary elements are rightly given or not, for if they are
not, the composition of them, my dear Hermogenes, will be a sorry
piece of work, and in the wrong direction.
[Her.] That, Socrates, I can quite believe.
[Soc.] Well, but do you suppose that you will be able to
analyse them in this way? for I am certain that I should not.
[Her.] Much less am I likely to be able.
[Soc.] Shall we leave them, then? or shall we seek to
discover, if we can, something about them, according to the
measure of our ability, saying by way of preface, as I said
before of the Gods, that of the truth about them we know nothing,
and do but entertain human notions of them. And in this present
enquiry, let us say to ourselves, before we proceed, that the
higher method is the one which we or others who would analyse
language to any good purpose must follow; but under the
circumstances, as men say, we must do as well as we can. What do
you think?
[Her.] I very much approve.
[Soc.] That objects should be imitated in letters and
syllables, and so find expression, may appear ridiculous,
Hermogenes, but it cannot be avoided- there is no better
principle to which we can look for the truth of first names.
Deprived of this, we must have recourse to divine help, like the
tragic poets, who in any perplexity have their Gods waiting in
the air; and must get out of our difficulty in like fashion, by
saying that "the Gods gave the first names, and therefore
they are right." This will be the best contrivance, or
perhaps that other notion may be even better still, of deriving
them from some barbarous people, for the barbarians are older
than we are; or we may say that antiquity has cast a veil over
them, which is the same sort of excuse as the last; for all these
are not reasons but only ingenious excuses for having no reasons
concerning the truth of words. And yet any sort of ignorance of
first or primitive names involves an ignorance of secondary
words; for they can only be explained by the primary. Clearly
then the professor of languages should be able to give a very
lucid explanation of first names, or let him be assured he will
only talk nonsense about the rest. Do you not suppose this to be
true?
[Her.] Certainly, Socrates.
[Soc.] My first notions of original names are truly wild and
ridiculous, though I have no objection to impart them to you if
you desire, and I hope that you will communicate to me in return
anything better which you may have.
[Her.] Fear not; I will do my best.
[Soc.] In the first place, the letter r; appears to me to be
the general instrument expressing all motion (kinesis). But I
have not yet explained the meaning of this latter word, which is
just iesis (going); for the letter e (long) was not in use among
the ancients, who only employed e (short); and the root is kiein,
which is a foreign form, the same as ienai. And the old word
kinesis will be correctly given as iesis in corresponding modern
letters. Assuming this foreign root kiein, and allowing for the
change of the e and the insertion of the n, we have kinesis,
which should have been kieinsis or eisis; and stasis is the
negative of ienai (or eisis), and has been improved into stasis.
Now the letter r, as I was saying, appeared to the imposer of
names an excellent instrument for the expression of motion; and
he frequently uses the letter for this purpose: for example, in
the actual words rein and roe he represents motion by r; also in
the words tromos (trembling), trachus (rugged); and again, in
words such as krouein (strike), thrauein (crush), ereikein (bruise),
thruptein (break), kermatixein (crumble), rumbein (whirl): of all
these sorts of movements he generally finds an expression in the
letter r, because, as I imagine, he had observed that the tongue
was most agitated and least at rest in the pronunciation of this
letter, which he therefore used in order to express motion, just
as by the letter i he expresses the subtle elements which pass
through all things. This is why he uses the letter i as imitative
of motion, ienai, iesthai. And there is another class of letters,
ph, ps, s, and x, of which the pronunciation is accompanied by
great expenditure of breath; these are used in the imitation of
such notions as psuchron (shivering), xeon (seething), seiesthai,
(to be shaken), seismos (shock), and are always introduced by the
giver of names when he wants to imitate what is phusodes (windy).
He seems to have thought that the closing and pressure of the
tongue in the utterance of d and t was expressive of binding and
rest in a place: he further observed the liquid movement of l, in
the pronunciation of which the tongue slips, and in this he found
the expression of smoothness, as in leios (level), and in the
word oliothanein (to slip) itself, liparon (sleek), in the word
kollodes (gluey), and the like: the heavier sound of g detained
the slipping tongue, and the union of the two gave the notion of
a glutinous clammy nature, as in glischros, glukus, gloiodes. The
n he observed to be sounded from within, and therefore to have a
notion of inwardness; hence he introduced the sound in endos and
entos: a he assigned to the expression of size, and n of length,
because they are great letters: o was the sign of roundness, and
therefore there is plenty of o mixed up in the word goggulon (round).
Thus did the legislator, reducing all things into letters and
syllables, and impressing on them names and signs, and out of
them by imitation compounding other signs. That is my view,
Hermogenes, of the truth of names; but I should like to hear what
Cratylus has more to say.
[Her.] But, Socrates, as I was telling you before, Cratylus
mystifies me; he says that there is a fitness of names, but he
never explains what is this fitness, so that I cannot tell
whether his obscurity is intended or not. Tell me now, Cratylus,
here in the presence of Socrates, do you agree in what Socrates
has been saying about names, or have you something better of your
own? and if you have, tell me what your view is, and then you
will either learn of Socrates, or Socrates and I will learn of
you.
[Crat.] Well, but surely, Hermogenes, you do not suppose that
you can learn, or I explain, any subject of importance all in a
moment; at any rate, not such a subject as language, which is,
perhaps, the very greatest of all.
[Her.] No, indeed; but, as Hesiod says, and I agree with him,
"to add little to little" is worth while. And,
therefore, if you think that you can add anything at all, however
small, to our knowledge, take a little trouble and oblige
Socrates, and me too, who certainly have a claim upon you.
[Soc.] I am by no means positive, Cratylus, in the view which
Hermogenes and myself have worked out; and therefore do not
hesitate to say what you think, which if it be better than my own
view shall gladly accept. And I should not be at all surprised to
find that you have found some better notion. For you have
evidently reflected on these matters and have had teachers, and
if you have really a better theory of the truth of names, you may
count me in the number of your disciples.
[Crat.] You are right, Socrates, in saying that I have made a
study of these matters, and I might possibly convert you into a
disciple. But I fear that the opposite is more probable, and I
already find myself moved to say to you what Achilles in the
"Prayers" says to Ajax- Illustrious Ajax, son of
Telamon, lord of the people, You appear to have spoken in all
things much to my mind. And you, Socrates, appear to me to be an
oracle, and to give answers much to my whether you are inspired
by Euthyphro, or whether some Muse may have long been an
inhabitant of your breast, unconsciously to yourself.
[Soc.] Excellent Cratylus, I have long been wondering at my
own wisdom; I cannot trust myself. And I think that I ought to
stop and ask myself What am I saying? for there is nothing worse
than self-deception- when the deceiver is always at home and
always with you- it is quite terrible, and therefore I ought
often to retrace my steps and endeavour to "look fore and
aft," in the words of the aforesaid Homer. And now let me
see; where are we? Have we not been saying that the correct name
indicates the nature of the thing:- has this proposition been
sufficiently proven?
[Crat.] Yes, Socrates, what you say, as I am disposed to
think, is quite true.
[Soc.] Names, then, are given in order to instruct?
[Crat.] Certainly.
[Soc.] And naming is an art, and has artificers?
[Crat.] Yes.
[Soc.] And who are they?
[Crat.] The legislators, of whom you spoke at first.
[Soc.] And does this art grow up among men like other arts?
Let me explain what I mean: of painters, some are better and some
worse?
[Crat.] Yes.
[Soc.] The better painters execute their works, I mean their
figures, better, and the worse execute them worse; and of
builders also, the better sort build fairer houses, and the worse
build them worse.
[Crat.] True.
[Soc.] And among legislators, there are some who do their work
better and some worse?
[Crat.] No; there I do not agree with you.
[Soc.] Then you do not think that some laws are better and
others worse?
[Crat.] No, indeed.
[Soc.] Or that one name is better than another?
[Crat.] Certainly not.
[Soc.] Then all names are rightly imposed?
[Crat.] Yes, if they are names at all.
[Soc.] Well, what do you say to the name of our friend
Hermogenes, which was mentioned before:- assuming that he has
nothing of the nature of Hermes in him, shall we say that this is
a wrong name, or not his name at all?
[Crat.] I should reply that Hermogenes is not his name at all,
but only appears to be his, and is really the name of somebody
else, who has the nature which corresponds to it.
[Soc.] And if a man were to call him Hermogenes, would he not
be even speaking falsely? For there may be a doubt whether you
can call him Hermogenes, if he is not.
[Crat.] What do you mean?
[Soc.] Are you maintaining that falsehood is impossible? For
if this is your meaning I should answer, that there have been
plenty of liars in all ages.
[Crat.] Why, Socrates, how can a man say that which is not?-
say something and yet say nothing? For is not falsehood saying
the thing which is not?
[Soc.] Your argument, friend, is too subtle for a man of my
age. But I should like to know whether you are one of those
philosophers who think that falsehood may be spoken but not said?
[Crat.] Neither spoken nor said.
[Soc.] Nor uttered nor addressed? For example: If a person,
saluting you in a foreign country, were to take your hand and say:
"Hail, Athenian stranger, Hermogenes, son of Smicrion"-
these words, whether spoken, said, uttered, or addressed, would
have no application to you but only to our friend Hermogenes, or
perhaps to nobody at all?
[Crat.] In my opinion, Socrates, the speaker would only be
talking nonsense.
[Soc.] Well, but that will be quite enough for me, if you will
tell me whether the nonsense would be true or false, or partly
true and partly false:- which is all that I want to know.
[Crat.] I should say that he would be putting himself in
motion to no purpose; and that his words would be an unmeaning
sound like the noise of hammering at a brazen pot.
[Soc.] But let us see, Cratylus, whether we cannot find a
meeting-point, for you would admit that the name is not the same
with the thing named?
[Crat.] I should.
[Soc.] And would you further acknowledge that the name is an
imitation of the thing?
[Crat.] Certainly.
[Soc.] And you would say that pictures are also imitations of
things, but in another way?
[Crat.] Yes.
[Soc.] I believe you may be right, but I do not rightly
understand you. Please to say, then, whether both sorts of
imitation (I mean both pictures or words) are not equally
attributable and applicable to the things of which they are the
imitation.
[Crat.] They are.
[Soc.] First look at the matter thus: you may attribute the
likeness of the man to the man, and of the woman to the woman;
and so on?
[Crat.] Certainly.
[Soc.] And conversely you may attribute the likeness of the
man to the woman, and of the woman to the man?
[Crat.] Very true.
[Soc.] And are both modes of assigning them right, or only the
first?
[Crat.] Only the first.
[Soc.] That is to say, the mode of assignment which attributes
to each that which belongs to them and is like them?
[Crat.] That is my view.
[Soc.] Now then, as I am desirous that we being friends should
have a good understanding about the argument, let me state my
view to you: the first mode of assignment, whether applied to
figures or to names, I call right, and when applied to names
only, true as well as right; and the other mode of giving and
assigning the name which is unlike, I call wrong, and in the case
of names, false as well as wrong.
[Crat.] That may be true, Socrates, in the case of pictures;
they may be wrongly assigned; but not in the case of names- they
must be always right.
[Soc.] Why, what is the difference? May I not go to a man and
say to him, "This is your picture," showing him his own
likeness, or perhaps the likeness of a woman; and when I say
"show," I mean bring before the sense of sight.
[Crat.] Certainly.
[Soc.] And may I not go to him again, and say, "This is
your name"?- for the name, like the picture, is an imitation.
May I not say to him- "This is your name"? and may I
not then bring to his sense of hearing the imitation of himself,
when I say, "This is a man"; or of a female of the
human species, when I say, "This is a woman," as the
case may be? Is not all that quite possible?
[Crat.] I would fain agree with you, Socrates; and therefore I
say, Granted.
[Soc.] That is very good of you, if I am right, which need
hardly be disputed at present. But if I can assign names as well
as pictures to objects, the right assignment of them we may call
truth, and the wrong assignment of them falsehood. Now if there
be such a wrong assignment of names, there may also be a wrong or
inappropriate assignment of verbs; and if of names and verbs then
of the sentences, which are made up of them. What do you say,
Cratylus?
[Crat.] I agree; and think that what you say is very true.
[Soc.] And further, primitive nouns may be compared to
pictures, and in pictures you may either give all the appropriate
colours and figures, or you may not give them all- some may be
wanting; or there may be too many or too much of them- may there
not?
[Crat.] Very true.
[Soc.] And he who gives all gives a perfect picture or figure;
and he who takes away or adds also gives a picture or figure, but
not a good one.
[Crat.] Yes.
[Soc.] In like manner, he who by syllables and letters
imitates the nature of things, if he gives all that is
appropriate will produce a good image, or in other words a name;
but if he subtracts or perhaps adds a little, he will make an
image but not a good one; whence I infer that some names are well
and others ill made.
[Crat.] That is true.
[Soc.] Then the artist of names may be sometimes good, or he
may be bad?
[Crat.] Yes.
[Soc.] And this artist of names is called the legislator?
[Crat.] Yes.
[Soc.] Then like other artists the legislator may be good or
he may be bad; it must surely be so if our former admissions hold
good?
[Crat.] Very true, Socrates; but the case of language, you
see, is different; for when by the help of grammar we assign the
letters a or b, or any other letters to a certain name, then, if
we add, or subtract, or misplace a letter, the name which is
written is not only written wrongly, but not written at all; and
in any of these cases becomes other than a name.
[Soc.] But I doubt whether your view is altogether correct,
Cratylus.
[Crat.] How so?
[Soc.] I believe that what you say may be true about numbers,
which must be just what they are, or not be at all; for example,
the number ten at once becomes other than ten if a unit be added
or subtracted, and so of any other number: but this does not
apply to that which is qualitative or to anything which is
represented under an image. I should say rather that the image,
if expressing in every point the entire reality, would no longer
be an image. Let us suppose the existence of two objects: one of
them shall be Cratylus, and the other the image of Cratylus; and
we will suppose, further, that some God makes not only a
representation such as a painter would make of your outward form
and colour, but also creates an inward organization like yours,
having the same warmth and softness; and into this infuses
motion, and soul, and mind, such as you have, in a word copies
all your qualities, and places them by you in another form; would
you say that this was Cratylus and the image of Cratylus, or that
there were two Cratyluses?
[Crat.] I should say that there were two Cratyluses.
[Soc.] Then you see, my friend, that we must find some other
principle of truth in images, and also in names; and not insist
that an image is no longer an image when something is added or
subtracted. Do you not perceive that images are very far from
having qualities which are the exact counterpart of the realities
which they represent?
[Crat.] Yes, I see.
[Soc.] But then how ridiculous would be the effect of names on
things, if they were exactly the same with them! For they would
be the doubles of them, and no one would be able to determine
which were the names and which were the realities.
[Crat.] Quite true.
[Soc.] Then fear not, but have the courage to admit that one
name may be correctly and another incorrectly given; and do not
insist that the name shall be exactly the same with the thing;
but allow the occasional substitution of a wrong letter, and if
of a letter also of a noun in a sentence, and if of a noun in a
sentence also of a sentence which is not appropriate to the
matter, and acknowledge that the thing may be named, and
described, so long as the general character of the thing which
you are describing is retained; and this, as you will remember,
was remarked by Hermogenes and myself in the particular instance
of the names of the letters.
[Crat.] Yes, I remember.
[Soc.] Good; and when the general character is preserved, even
if some of the proper letters are wanting, still the thing is
signified;- well, if all the letters are given; not well, when
only a few of them are given. I think that we had better admit
this, lest we be punished like travellers in Aegina who wander
about the street late at night: and be likewise told by truth
herself that we have arrived too late; or if not, you must find
out some new notion of correctness of names, and no longer
maintain that a name is the expression of a thing in letters or
syllables; for if you say both, you will be inconsistent with
yourself.
[Crat.] I quite acknowledge, Socrates, what you say to be very
reasonable.
[Soc.] Then as we are agreed thus far, let us ask ourselves
whether a name rightly imposed ought not to have the proper
letters.
[Crat.] Yes.
[Soc.] And the proper letters are those which are like the
things?
[Crat.] Yes.
[Soc.] Enough then of names which are rightly given. And in
names which are incorrectly given, the greater part may be
supposed to be made up of proper and similar letters, or there
would be no likeness; but there will be likewise a part which is
improper and spoils the beauty and formation of the word: you
would admit that?
[Crat.] There would be no use, Socrates, in my quarrelling
with you, since I cannot be satisfied that a name which is
incorrectly given is a name at all.
[Soc.] Do you admit a name to be the representation of a
thing?
[Crat.] Yes, I do.
[Soc.] But do you not allow that some nouns are primitive, and
some derived?
[Crat.] Yes, I do.
[Soc.] Then if you admit that primitive or first nouns are
representations of things, is there any better way of framing
representations than by assimilating them to the objects as much
as you can; or do you prefer the notion of Hermogenes and of many
others, who say that names are conventional, and have a meaning
to those who have agreed about them, and who have previous
knowledge of the things intended by them, and that convention is
the only principle; and whether you abide by our present
convention, or make a new and opposite one, according to which
you call small great and great small- that, they would say, makes
no difference, if you are only agreed. Which of these two notions
do you prefer?
[Crat.] Representation by likeness, Socrates, is infinitely
better than representation by any chance sign.
[Soc.] Very good: but if the name is to be like the thing, the
letters out of which the first names are composed must also be
like things. Returning to the image of the picture, I would ask,
How could any one ever compose a picture which would be like
anything at all, if there were not pigments in nature which
resembled the things imitated, and out of which the picture is
composed?
[Crat.] Impossible.
[Soc.] No more could names ever resemble any actually existing
thing, unless the original elements of which they are compounded
bore some degree of resemblance to the objects of which the names
are the imitation: And the original elements are letters?
[Crat.] Yes.
[Soc.] Let me now invite you to consider what Hermogenes and I
were saying about sounds. Do you agree with me that the letter r
is expressive of rapidity, motion, and hardness? Were we right or
wrong in saying so?
[Crat.] I should say that you were right.
[Soc.] And that l was expressive of smoothness, and softness,
and the like?
[Crat.] There again you were right.
[Soc.] And yet, as you are aware, that which is called by us
sklerotes, is by the Eretrians called skleroter.
[Crat.] Very true.
[Soc.] But are the letters r and s, equivalents; and is there
the same significance to them in the termination r, which there
is to us in s, or is there no significance to one of us?
[Crat.] Nay, surely there is a significance to both of us.
[Soc.] In as far as they are like, or in as far as they are
unlike?
[Crat.] In as far as they are like.
[Soc.] Are they altogether alike?
[Crat.] Yes; for the purpose of expressing motion.
[Soc.] And what do you say of the insertion of the l? for that
is expressive not of hardness but of softness.
[Crat.] Why, perhaps the letter l is wrongly inserted,
Socrates, and should be altered into r, as you were saying to
Hermogenes and in my opinion rightly, when you spoke of adding
and subtracting letters upon occasion.
[Soc.] Good. But still the word is intelligible to both of us;
when I say skleros (hard), you know what I mean.
[Crat.] Yes, my dear friend, and the explanation of that is
custom.
[Soc.] And what is custom but convention? I utter a sound
which I understand, and you know that I understand the meaning of
the sound: this is what you are saying?
[Crat.] Yes.
[Soc.] And if when I speak you know my meaning, there is an
indication given by me to you?
[Crat.] Yes.
[Soc.] This indication of my meaning may proceed from unlike
as well as from like, for example in the l of sklerotes. But if
this is true, then you have made a convention with yourself, and
the correctness of a name turns out to be convention, since
letters which are unlike are indicative equally with those which
are like, if they are sanctioned by custom and convention. And
even supposing that you distinguish custom from convention ever
so much, still you must say that the signification of words is
given by custom and not by likeness, for custom may indicate by
the unlike as well as by the like. But as we are agreed thus far,
Cratylus (for I shall assume that your silence gives consent),
then custom and convention must be supposed to contribute to the
indication of our thoughts; for suppose we take the instance of
number, how can you ever imagine, my good friend, that you will
find names resembling every individual number, unless you allow
that which you term convention and agreement to have authority in
determining the correctness of names? I quite agree with you that
words should as far as possible resemble things; but I fear that
this dragging in of resemblance, as Hermogenes says, is a shabby
thing, which has to be supplemented by the mechanical aid of
convention with a view to correctness; for I believe that if we
could always, or almost always, use likenesses, which are
perfectly appropriate, this would be the most perfect state of
language; as the opposite is the most imperfect. But let me ask
you, what is the force of names, and what is the use of them?
[Crat.] The use of names, Socrates, as I should imagine, is to
inform: the simple truth is, that he who knows names knows also
the things which are expressed by them.
[Soc.] I suppose you mean to say, Cratylus, that as the name
is, so also is the thing; and that he who knows the one will also
know the other, because they are similars, and all similars fall
under the same art or science; and therefore you would say that
he who knows names will also know things.
[Crat.] That is precisely what I mean.
[Soc.] But let us consider what is the nature of this
information about things which, according to you, is given us by
names. Is it the best sort of information? or is there any other?
What do you say?
[Crat.] I believe that to be both the only and the best sort
of information about them; there can be no other.
[Soc.] But do you believe that in the discovery of them, he
who discovers the names discovers also the things; or is this
only the method of instruction, and is there some other method of
enquiry and discovery.
[Crat.] I certainly believe that the methods of enquiry and
discovery are of the same nature as instruction.
[Soc.] Well, but do you not see, Cratylus, that he who follows
names in the search after things, and analyses their meaning, is
in great danger of being deceived?
[Crat.] How so?
[Soc.] Why clearly he who first gave names gave them according
to his conception of the things which they signified- did he not?
[Crat.] True.
[Soc.] And if his conception was erroneous, and he gave names
according to his conception, in what position shall we who are
his followers find ourselves? Shall we not be deceived by him?
[Crat.] But, Socrates, am I not right in thinking that he must
surely have known; or else, as I was saying, his names would not
be names at all? And you have a clear proof that he has not
missed the truth, and the proof is- that he is perfectly
consistent. Did you ever observe in speaking that all the words
which you utter have a common character and purpose?
[Soc.] But that, friend Cratylus, is no answer. For if he did
begin in error, he may have forced the remainder into agreement
with the original error and with himself; there would be nothing
strange in this, any more than in geometrical diagrams, which
have often a slight and invisible flaw in the first part of the
process, and are consistently mistaken in the long deductions
which follow. And this is the reason why every man should expend
his chief thought and attention on the consideration of his first
principles:- are they or are they not rightly laid down? and when
he has duly sifted them, all the rest will follow. Now I should
be astonished to find that names are really consistent. And here
let us revert to our former discussion: Were we not saying that
all things are in motion and progress and flux, and that this
idea of motion is expressed by names? Do you not conceive that to
be the meaning of them?
[Crat.] Yes; that is assuredly their meaning, and the true
meaning.
[Soc.] Let us revert to episteme (knowledge) and observe how
ambiguous this word is, seeming rather to signify stopping the
soul at things than going round with them; and therefore we
should leave the beginning as at present, and not reject the e,
but make an insertion of an instead of an i (not pioteme, but
epiisteme). Take another example: bebaion (sure) is clearly the
expression of station and position, and not of motion. Again, the
word istoria (enquiry) bears upon the face of it the stopping (istanai)
of the stream; and the word piston (faithful) certainly indicates
cessation of motion; then, again, mneme (memory), as any one may
see, expresses rest in the soul, and not motion. Moreover, words
such as amartia and sumphora, which have a bad sense, viewed in
the light of their etymologies will be the same as sunesis and
episteme and other words which have a good sense (i.e., omartein,
sunienai, epesthai, sumphersthai) and much the same may be said
of amathia and akolaia, for amathia may be explained as e ama
theo iontos poreia, and akolasia as e akolouthia tois pragmasin.
Thus the names which in these instances we find to have the worst
sense, will turn out to be framed on the same principle as those
which have the best. And any one I believe who would take the
trouble might find many other examples in which the giver of
names indicates, not that things are in motion or progress, but
that they are at rest; which is the opposite of motion.
[Crat.] Yes, Socrates, but observe; the greater number express
motion.
[Soc.] What of that, Cratylus? Are we to count them like
votes? and is correctness of names the voice of the majority? Are
we to say of whichever sort there are most, those are the true
ones?
[Crat.] No; that is not reasonable.
[Soc.] Certainly not. But let us have done with this question
and proceed to another, about which I should like to know whether
you think with me. Were we not lately acknowledging that the
first givers of names in states, both Hellenic and barbarous,
were the legislators, and that the art which gave names was the
art of the legislator?
[Crat.] Quite true.
[Soc.] Tell me, then, did the first legislators, who were the
givers of the first names, know or not know the things which they
named?
[Crat.] They must have known, Socrates.
[Soc.] Why, yes, friend Cratylus, they could hardly have been
ignorant.
[Crat.] I should say not.
[Soc.] Let us return to the point from which we digressed. You
were saying, if you remember, that he who gave names must have
known the things which he named; are you still of that opinion?
[Crat.] I am.
[Soc.] And would you say that the giver of the first names had
also a knowledge of the things which he named?
[Crat.] I should.
[Soc.] But how could he have learned or discovered things from
names if the primitive names were not yet given? For, if we are
correct in our view, the only way of learning and discovering
things, is either to discover names for ourselves or to learn
them from others.
[Crat.] I think that there is a good deal in what you say,
Socrates.
[Soc.] But if things are only to be known through names, how
can we suppose that the givers of names had knowledge, or were
legislators before there were names at all, and therefore before
they could have known them?
[Crat.] I believe, Socrates, the true account of the matter to
be, that a power more than human gave things their first names,
and that the names which are thus given are necessarily their
true names.
[Soc.] Then how came the giver of the names, if he was an
inspired being or God, to contradict himself? For were we not
saying just now that he made some names expressive of rest and
others of motion? Were we mistaken?
[Crat.] But I suppose one of the two not to be names at all.
[Soc.] And which, then, did he make, my good friend; those
which are expressive of rest, or those which are expressive of
motion? This is a point which, as I said before, cannot be
determined by counting them.
[Crat.] No; not in that way, Socrates.
[Soc.] But if this is a battle of names, some of them
asserting that they are like the truth, others contending that
they are, how or by what criterion are we to decide between them?
For there are no other names to which appeal can be made, but
obviously recourse must be had to another standard which, without
employing names, will make clear which of the two are right; and
this must be a standard which shows the truth of things.
[Crat.] I agree.
[Soc.] But if that is true, Cratylus, then I suppose that
things may be known without names?
[Crat.] Clearly.
[Soc.] But how would you expect to know them? What other way
can there be of knowing them, except the true and natural way,
through their affinities, when they are akin to each other, and
through themselves? For that which is other and different from
them must signify something other and different from them.
[Crat.] What you are saying is, I think, true.
[Soc.] Well, but reflect; have we not several times
acknowledged that names rightly given are the likenesses and
images of the things which they name?
[Crat.] Yes.
[Soc.] Let us suppose that to any extent you please you can
learn things through the medium of names, and suppose also that
you can learn them from the things themselves- which is likely to
be the nobler and clearer way to learn of the image, whether the
image and the truth of which the image is the expression have
been rightly conceived, or to learn of the truth whether the
truth and the image of it have been duly executed?
[Crat.] I should say that we must learn of the truth.
[Soc.] How real existence is to be studied or discovered is, I
suspect, beyond you and me. But we may admit so much, that the
knowledge of things is not to be derived from names. No; they
must be studied and investigated in themselves.
[Crat.] Clearly, Socrates.
[Soc.] There is another point. I should not like us to be
imposed upon by the appearance of such a multitude of names, all
tending in the same direction. I myself do not deny that the
givers of names did really give them under the idea that all
things were in motion and flux; which was their sincere but, I
think, mistaken opinion. And having fallen into a kind of
whirlpool themselves, they are carried round, and want to drag us
in after them. There is a matter, master Cratylus, about which I
often dream, and should like to ask your opinion: Tell me,
whether there is or is not any absolute beauty or good, or any
other absolute existence?
[Crat.] Certainly, Socrates, I think so.
[Soc.] Then let us seek the true beauty: not asking whether a
face is fair, or anything of that sort, for all such things
appear to be in a flux; but let us ask whether the true beauty is
not always beautiful.
[Crat.] Certainly.
[Soc.] And can we rightly speak of a beauty which is always
passing away, and is first this and then that; must not the same
thing be born and retire and vanish while the word is in our
mouths?
[Crat.] Undoubtedly.
[Soc.] Then how can that be a real thing which is never in the
same state? I for obviously things which are the same cannot
change while they remain the same; and if they are always the
same and in the same state, and never depart from their original
form, they can never change or be moved.
[Crat.] Certainly they cannot.
[Soc.] Nor yet can they be known by any one; for at the moment
that the observer approaches, then they become other and of
another nature, so that you cannot get any further in knowing
their nature or state, for you cannot know that which has no
state.
[Crat.] True.
[Soc.] Nor can we reasonably say, Cratylus, that there is
knowledge at all, if everything is in a state of transition and
there is nothing abiding; for knowledge too cannot continue to be
knowledge unless continuing always to abide and exist. But if the
very nature of knowledge changes, at the time when the change
occurs there will be no knowledge; and if the transition is
always going on, there will always be no knowledge, and,
according to this view, there will be no one to know and nothing
to be known: but if that which knows and that which is known
exist ever, and the beautiful and the good and every other thing
also exist, then I do not think that they can resemble a process
or flux, as we were just now supposing. Whether there is this
eternal nature in things, or whether the truth is what
Heracleitus and his followers and many others say, is a question
hard to determine; and no man of sense will like to put himself
or the education of his mind in the power of names: neither will
he so far trust names or the givers of names as to be confident
in any knowledge which condemns himself and other existences to
an unhealthy state of unreality; he will not believe that all
things leak like a pot, or imagine that the world is a man who
has a running at the nose. This may be true, Cratylus, but is
also very likely to be untrue; and therefore I would not have you
be too easily persuaded of it. Reflect well and like a man, and
do not easily accept such a doctrine; for you are young and of an
age to learn. And when you have found the truth, come and tell me.
[Crat.] I will do as you say, though I can assure you,
Socrates, that I have been considering the matter already, and
the result of a great deal of trouble and consideration is that I
incline to Heracleitus.
[Soc.] Then, another day, my friend, when you come back, you
shall give me a lesson; but at present, go into the country, as
you are intending, and Hermogenes shall set you on your way.
[Crat.] Very good, Socrates; I hope, however, that you will
continue to think about these things yourself.
-THE END-
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