Cratylus

Socrates. But it does not, if you employ the ancient word, which is more likely to be right than the present one. You will find that it agrees with the previous words for good, if instead of the epsilon you restore the iota, as it was in old times for διόν (going through), not δέον, signifies good, which the name-giver praises. And so the giver of names does not contradict himself, but δέον (obligation, right), ὠφέλιμον (useful), λυσιτελοῦν (profitable), κερδαλέον (gainful), ἀγαθόν (good), ξυμφέρον (advantageous), and εὔπορον (prosperous), are plainly identical, signifying under different names the principle of arrangement and motion which has constantly been praised, whereas the principle of constraint and bondage is found fault with. And likewise in the case of ζημιῶδες, if you restore the ancient delta in place of the zeta, you will see that the name, pronounced δημιῶδες, was given to that which binds motion (δοῦντι τὸ ἰόν).

Hermogenes. What of ἡδονή (pleasure) and λύπη (pain) and ἐπιθυμία (desire), and the like, Socrates?

Socrates. I do not think they are at all difficult, Hermogenes, for ἡδονή appears to have this name because it is the action that tends towards advantage (ἡ πρὸς τὴν ὄνησιν τείνουσα); the delta is inserted, so that we say ἡδονή instead of ἡονή. Λύπη appears to have received its name from the dissolution (διάλυσις) of the body which takes place through pain. Ἀνία (sorrow) is that which hinders motion (ἰέναι). Ἀλγηδών (distress) is, I think, a foreign word, derived from ἀλγεινός (distressing). Ὀδύνη (grief) appears to be so called from the putting on of pain (τῆς ἐνδύσεως τῆς λύπης). Ἀχθηδών (vexation) has a name, as anyone can see, made in the likeness of the weight (ἄχθος, burden) which vexation imposes upon motion. Χαρά (joy) seems to have its name from the plenteous diffusion (διάχυσις) of the flow of the soul. Τέρψις (delight) is from τερπνόν (delightful); and τερπνόν is called from the creeping (ἕρψις) of the soul, which is likened to a breath (πνοή), and would properly be called ἕρπνουν, but the name has been changed in course of time to τερπνόν. Εὐφροσύνη(mirth) needs no explanation, for it is clear to anyone that from the motion of the soul in harmony (εὖ) with the universe, it received the name εὐφεροσύνη, as it rightfully is; but we call it ευφροσύνη. Nor is there any difficulty about ἐπιθυμία (desire), for this name was evidently given to the power that goes (ἰοῦσα) into the soul (θυμός). And θυμός has its name from the raging (θύσις) and boiling of the soul.

Socrates The name ἵμερος (longing) was given to the stream (ῥοῦς) which most draws the soul; for because it flows with a rush (ἱέμενος) and with a desire for things and thus draws the soul on through the impulse of its flowing, all this power gives it the name of ἵμερος. And the word πόθος (yearning) signifies that it pertains not to that which is present, but to that which is elsewhere (ἄλλοθί που) or absent, and therefore the same feeling which is called ἵμερος when its object is present, is called πόθος when it is absent. And ἔρως (love) is so called because it flows in (ἐσρεῖ) from without, and this flowing is not inherent in him who has it, but is introduced through the eyes; for this reason it was in ancient times called ἔσρος, from ἐσρεῖν—for we used to employ omicron instead of omega—but now it is called ἔρως through the change of omicron to omega. Well, what more is there that you want to examine?

Hermogenes. What is your view about δόξα (opinion) and the like?

Socrates.Δόξα is derived either from the pursuit (δίωξις) which the soul carries on as it pursues the knowledge of the nature of things, or from the shooting of the bow (τόξον); the latter is more likely; at any rate οἴησις (belief) supports this view, for it appears to mean the motion (οἶσις) of the soul towards the essential nature of every individual thing, just as βουλή (intention) denotes shooting (βολή) and βούλεσθαι (wish), as well as βουλεύεσθαι (plan), denotes aiming at something. All these words seem to follow δόξα and to express the idea of shooting, just as ἀβουλία (ill-advisedness), on the other hand, appears to be a failure to hit, as if a person did not shoot or hit that which he shot at or wished or planned or desired.

Hermogenes. I think you are hurrying things a bit, Socrates.

Socrates. Yes, for I am running the last lap now. But I think I must still explain ἀνάγκη (compulsion) and ἑκούσιον (voluntary) because they naturally come next. Now by the word ἑκούσιον is expressed the yielding (εἶκον) and not opposing, but, as I say, yielding to the motion which is in accordance with the will; but the compulsory (τὸ ἀναγκαῖον) and resistant, being contrary to the will, is associated with error and ignorance; so it is likened to walking through ravines (ἄγκη), because they are hard to traverse, rough, and rugged, and retard motion; the word ἀναγκαῖον may, then, originate in a comparison with progress through a ravine. But let us not cease to use my strength, so long as it lasts and do not you cease from asking questions.

Hermogenes. I ask, then, about the greatest and noblest words, truth (ἀλήθεια), falsehood (ψεῦδος), being (τὸ ὄν), and why name, the subject of our whole discourse, has the name ὄνομα.

Socrates. Does the word μαίσθαι (search) mean anything to you?

Hermogenes. Yes, it means seek.

Socrates. The word ὄνομα seems to be a word composed from a sentence signifying this is a being about which our search is. You can recognize that more readily in the adjective ὀνομαστόν, for that says clearly that this is ὄν οὗ μάσμα ἐστίν (being of which the search is). And ἀλήθεια (truth) is like the others; for the divine motion of the universe is, I think, called by this name, ἀλήθεια, because it is a divine wandering θεία ἄλη. But ψεῦδος (falsehood) is the opposite of motion; for once more that which is held back and forced to be quiet is found fault with, and it is compared to slumberers (εὕουσι); but the addition of the psi conceals the meaning of the word. The words τὸ ὄν (being) and οὐσία (existence) agree with ἀληθής with the loss of iota, for they mean going (ἰόν). And οὐκ ὄν (not being) means οὐκ ἰόν (not going), and indeed some people pronounce it so.

Hermogenes. I think you have knocked these words to pieces manfully, Socrates; but if anyone should ask you what propriety or correctness there was in these words that you have employed—ἰόν and ρἕον and δοῦν—

Socrates. What answer should I make? Is that your meaning?

Hermogenes. Yes, exactly.

Socrates. We acquired just now one way of making an answer with a semblance of sense in it.

Hermogenes. What way was that?

Socrates. Saying, if there is a word we do not know about, that it is of foreign origin. Now this may be true of some of them, and also on account of the lapse of time it may be impossible to find out about the earliest words; for since words get twisted in all sorts of ways, it would not be in the least wonderful if the ancient Greek word should be identical with the modern foreign one.

Hermogenes. That is not unlikely.

Socrates. It is indeed quite probable. However, we must play the game[*](A proverbial expression.) and investigate these questions vigorously. But let us bear in mind that if a person asks about the words by means of which names are formed, and again about those by means of which those words were formed, and keeps on doing this indefinitely, he who answers his questions will at last give up; will he not?

Hermogenes. Yes, I think so.

Socrates. Now at what point will he be right in giving up and stopping? Will it not be when he reaches the names which are the elements of the other names and words? For these, if they are the elements, can no longer rightly appear to be composed of other names. For instance, we said just now that ἀγαθόν was composed of ἀγαστόν and θοόν; and perhaps we might say that θοόν was composed of other words, and those of still others; but if we ever get hold of a word which is no longer composed of other words, we should be right ill saying that we had at last reached an element, and that we must no longer refer to other words for its derivation.

Hermogenes. I think you are right.

Socrates. Are, then, these words about which you are now asking elements, and must we henceforth investigate their correctness by some other method?

Hermogenes. Probably.

Socrates. Yes, probably, Hermogenes; at any rate, all the previous words were traced back to these. But if this be true, as I think it is, come to my aid again and help me in the investigation, that I may not say anything foolish in declaring what principle must underlie the correctness of the earliest names.

Hermogenes. Go on, and I will help you to the best of my ability.

Socrates. I think you agree with me that there is but one principle of correctness in all names, the earliest as well as the latest, and that none of them is any more a name than the rest.

Hermogenes. Certainly.

Socrates. Now the correctness of all the names we have discussed was based upon the intention of showing the nature of the things named.

Hermogenes. Yes, of course.

Socrates. And this principle of correctness must be present in all names, the earliest as well as the later ones, if they are really to be names.

Hermogenes. Certainly.

Socrates. But the later ones, apparently, were able to accomplish this by means of the earlier ones.

Hermogenes. Evidently.

Socrates. Well, then, how can the earliest names, which are not as yet based upon any others, make clear to us the nature of things, so far as that is possible, which they must do if they are to be names at all? Answer me this question: If we had no voice or tongue, and wished to make things clear to one another, should we not try, as dumb people actually do, to make signs with our hands and head and person generally?

Hermogenes. Yes. What other method is there, Socrates?