Sophist

Str. Not those who produce some large work of sculpture or painting. For if they reproduced the true proportions of beautiful forms, the upper parts, you know, would seem smaller and the lower parts larger than they ought, because we see the former from a distance, the latter from near at hand.

Theaet. Certainly.

Str. So the artists abandon the truth and give their figures not the actual proportions but those which seem to be beautiful, do they not?

Theaet. Certainly.

Str. That, then, which is other, but like, we may fairly call a likeness, may we not?

Theaet. Yes.

Str. And the part of imitation which is concerned with such things, is to be called, as we called it before, likeness-making?

Theaet. It is to be so called.

Str. Now then, what shall we call that which appears, because it is seen from an unfavorable position, to be like the beautiful, but which would not even be likely to resemble that which it claims to be like, if a person were able to see such large works adequately? Shall we not call it, since it appears, but is not like, an appearance?

Theaet. Certainly.

Str. And this is very common in painting and in all imitation?

Theaet. Of course.

Str. And to the art which produces appearance, but not likeness, the most correct name we could give would be fantastic art, would it not?

Theaet. By all means.

Str. These, then, are the two forms of the image-making art that I meant, the likeness-making and the fantastic.

Theaet. You are right.

Str. But I was uncertain before in which of the two the sophist should be placed, and even now I cannot see clearly. The fellow is really wonderful and very difficult to keep in sight, for once more, in the very cleverest manner he has withdrawn into a baffling classification where it is hard to track him.

Theaet. So it seems.

Str. Do you assent because you recognize the fact, or did the force of habit hurry you along to a speedy assent?

Theaet. What do you mean, and why did you say that?

Str. We are really, my dear friend, engaged in a very difficult investigation; for the matter of appearing and seeming, but not being, and of saying things, but not true ones—all this is now and always has been very perplexing. You see, Theaetetus, it is extremely difficult to understand how a man is to say or think that falsehood really exists and in saying this not be involved in contradiction.

Theaet. Why?

Str. This statement involves the bold assumption that not-being exists, for otherwise falsehood could not come into existence. But the great Parmenides, my boy, from the time when we were children to the end of his life, always protested against this and constantly repeated both in prose and in verse:

1. Never let this thought prevail, saith he, that not-being is;
2. But keep your mind from this way of investigation.

Theaet. Assume my consent to anything you wish. Consider only the argument, how it may best be pursued; follow your own course, and take me along with you.

Str. Very well, then. Now tell me; do we venture to use the phrase absolute not-being?

Theaet. Of course.

Str. If, then, not merely for the sake of discussion or as a joke, but seriously, one of his pupils were asked to consider and answer the question To what is the designation not-being to be applied? how do we think he would reply to his questioner, and how would he apply the term, for what purpose, and to what object?

Theaet. That is a difficult question; I may say that for a fellow like me it is unanswerable.

Str. But this is clear, anyhow, that the term not-being cannot be applied to any being.

Theaet. Of course not.

Str. And if not to being, then it could not properly be applied to something, either.

Theaet. How could it?

Str. And this is plain to us, that we always use the word something of some being, for to speak of something in the abstract, naked, as it were, and disconnected from all beings is impossible, is it not?

Theaet. Yes, it is.

Str. You assent because you recognize that he who says something must say some one thing?

Theaet. Yes.

Str. And you will agree that something or some in the singular is the sign of one, in the dual of two, and in the plural of many.

Theaet. Of course.

Str. And he who says not something, must quite necessarily say absolutely nothing.

Theaet. Quite necessarily.

Str. Then we cannot even concede that such a person speaks, but says nothing? We must even declare that he who undertakes to say not-being does not speak at all?

Theaet. The argument could go no further in perplexity.

Str. Boast not too soon! For there still remains, my friend, the first and greatest of perplexities. It affects the very beginning of the matter.

Theaet. What do you mean? Do not hesitate to speak.

Str. To that which is may be added or attributed some other thing which is?

Theaet. Of course.

Str. But shall we assert that to that which is not anything which is can be attributed?

Theaet. Certainly not.

Str. Now we assume that all number is among the things which are.

Theaet. Yes, if anything can be assumed to be.

Str. Then let us not even undertake to attribute either the singular or the plural of number to not-being.

Theaet. We should, apparently, not be right in undertaking that, as our argument shows.

Str. How then could a man either utter in speech or even so much as conceive in his mind things which are not, or not-being, apart from number?

Theaet. Tell me how number is involved in such conceptions.

Str. When we say things which are not, do we not attribute plurality to them?

Theaet. Certainly.

Str. And in saying a thing which is not, do we not equally attribute the singular number?

Theaet. Obviously.

Str. And yet we assert that it is neither right nor fair to undertake to attribute being to not-being.

Theaet. Very true.

Str. Do you see, then, that it is impossible rightly to utter or to say or to think of not-being without any attribute, but it is a thing inconceivable, inexpressible, unspeakable, irrational?

Theaet. Absolutely.

Str. Then was I mistaken just now in saying that the difficulty I was going to speak of was the greatest in our subject.

Theaet. But is there a still greater one that we can mention?

Str. Why, my dear fellow, don’t you see, by the very arguments we have used, that not-being reduces him who would refute it to such difficulties that when he attempts to refute it he is forced to contradict himself?

Theaet. What do you mean? Speak still more clearly.

Str. You must not look for more clearness in me; for although I maintained that not-being could have nothing to do with either the singular or the plural number, I spoke of it just now, and am still speaking of it, as one; for I say that which is not. You understand surely?

Theaet. Yes.

Str. And again a little while ago I said it was inexpressible, unspeakable, irrational. Do you follow me?

Theaet. Yes, of course.

Str. Then when I undertook to attach the verb to be to not-being I was contradicting what I said before.

Theaet. Evidently.

Str. Well, then; when I attached this verb to it, did I not address it in the singular?

Theaet. Yes.

Str. And when I called it irrational, inexpressible, and unspeakable, I addressed my speech to it as singular.

Theaet. Of course you did.

Str. But we say that, if one is to speak correctly, one must not define it as either singular or plural, and must not even call it it at all; for even by this manner of referring to it one would be giving it the form of the singular.

Theaet. Certainly.

Str. But poor me, what can anyone say of me any longer? For you would find me now, as always before, defeated in the refutation of not-being. So, as I said before, we must not look to me for correctness of speech about not-being. But come now, let us look to you for it.

Theaet. What do you mean?

Str. Come, I beg of you, make a sturdy effort, young man as you are, and try with might and main to say something correctly about not-being, without attributing to it either existence or unity or plurality.

Theaet. But I should be possessed of great and absurd eagerness for the attempt, if I were to undertake it with your experience before my eyes.

Str. Well, if you like, let us say no more of you and me; but until we find someone who can accomplish this, let us confess that the sophist has in most rascally fashion hidden himself in a place we cannot explore.

Theaet. That seems to be decidedly the case.

Str. And so, if we say he has an art, as it were, of making appearances, he will easily take advantage of our poverty of terms to make a counter attack, twisting our words to the opposite meaning; when we call him an image-maker, he will ask us what we mean by image, exactly. So, Theaetetus, we must see what reply is to be made to the young man’s question.

Theaet. Obviously we shall reply that we mean the images in water and in mirrors, and those in paintings, too, and sculptures, and all the other things of the same sort.

Str. It is evident, Theaetetus, that you never saw a sophist.

Theaet. Why?

Str. He will make you think his eyes are shut or he has none at all.

Theaet. How so?

Str. When you give this answer, if you speak of something in mirrors or works of art, he will laugh at your words, when you talk to him as if he could see. He will feign ignorance of mirrors and water and of sight altogether, and will question you only about that which is deduced from your words.

Theaet. What is that?

Str. That which exists throughout all these things which you say are many but which you saw fit to call by one name, when you said image of them all, as if they were all one thing. So speak and defend yourself. Do not give way to the man at all.

Theaet. Why, Stranger, what can we say an image is, except another such thing fashioned in the likeness of the true one?

Str. Do you mean another such true one, or in what sense did you say such?

Theaet. Not a true one by any means, but only one like the true.

Str. And by the true you mean that which really is?

Theaet. Exactly.

Str. And the not true is the opposite of the true?

Theaet. Of course.

Str. That which is like, then, you say does not really exist, if you say it is not true.

Theaet. But it does exist, in a way.

Str. But not truly, you mean.

Theaet. No, except that it is really a likeness.

Str. Then what we call a likeness, though not really existing, really does exist?

Theaet. Not-being does seem to have got into some such entanglement with being, and it is very absurd.

Str. Of course it is absurd. You see, at any rate, how by this interchange of words the many-headed sophist has once more forced us against our will to admit that not-being exists in a way.

Theaet. Yes, I see that very well.

Str. Well then, how can we define his art without contradicting ourselves?

Theaet. Why do you say that? What are you afraid of?

Str. When, in talking about appearance, we say that he deceives and that his art is an art of deception, shall we say that our mind is misled by his art to hold a false opinion, or what shall we say?

Theaet. We shall say that. What else could we say?

Str. But, again, false opinion will be that which thinks the opposite of reality, will it not?

Theaet. Yes.

Str. You mean, then, that false opinion thinks things which are not?

Theaet. Necessarily.

Str. Does it think that things which are not, are not, or that things which are not at all, in some sense are?

Theaet. It must think that things which are not in some sense are—that is, if anyone is ever to think falsely at all, even in a slight degree.

Str. And does it not also think that things which certainly are, are not at all?

Theaet. Yes.

Str. And this too is falsehood?

Theaet. Yes, it is.

Str. And therefore a statement will likewise be considered false, if it declares that things which are, are not, or that things which are not, are.

Theaet. In what other way could a statement be made false?

Str. Virtually in no other way; but the sophist will not assent to this. Or how can any reasonable man assent to it, when the expressions we just agreed upon were previously agreed to be inexpressible, unspeakable, irrational, and inconceivable? Do we understand his meaning, Theaetetus?

Theaet. Of course we understand that he will say we are contradicting our recent statements, since we dare to say that falsehood exists in opinions and words; for he will say that we are thus forced repeatedly to attribute being to not-being, although we agreed a while ago that nothing could be more impossible than that.

Str. You are quite right to remind me. But I think it is high time to consider what ought to be done about the sophist; for you see how easily and repeatedly he can raise objections and difficulties, if we conduct our search by putting him in the guild of false-workers and jugglers.

Theaet. Very true.

Str. Yes, we have gone through only a small part of them, and they are, if I may say so, infinite.

Theaet. It would, apparently, be impossible to catch the sophist, if that is the case.

Str. Well, then, shall we weaken and give up the struggle now?

Theaet. No, I say; we must not do that, if we can in any way get the slightest hold of the fellow.

Str. Will you then pardon me, and, as your words imply, be content if I somehow withdraw just for a short distance from this strong argument of his?

Theaet. Of course I will.

Str. I have another still more urgent request to make of you.

Theaet. What is it?

Str. Do not assume that I am becoming a sort of parricide.

Theaet. What do you mean?

Str. In defending myself I shall have to test the theory of my father Parmenides, and contend forcibly that after a fashion not-being is and on the other hand in a sense being is not.

Theaet. It is plain that some such contention is necessary.

Str. Yes, plain even to a blind man, as they say; for unless these statements are either disproved or accepted, no one who speaks about false words, or false opinion—whether images or likenesses or imitations or appearances—about the arts which have to do with them, can ever help being forced to contradict himself and make himself ridiculous.

Theaet. Very true.

Str. And so we must take courage and attack our father’s theory here and now, or else, if any scruples prevent us from doing this, we must give the whole thing up.

Theaet. But nothing in the world must prevent us.

Str. Then I have a third little request to make of you.

Theaet. You have only to utter it.

Str. I said a while ago that I always have been too faint-hearted for the refutation of this theory, and so I am now.

Theaet. Yes, so you did.

Str. I am afraid that on account of what I have said you will think I am mad because I have at once reversed my position. You see it is for your sake that I am going to undertake the refutation, if I succeed in it.

Theaet. I certainly shall not think you are doing anything improper if you proceed to your refutation and proof; so go ahead boldly, so far as that is concerned.

Str. Well, what would be a good beginning of a perilous argument? Ah, my boy, I believe the way we certainly must take is this.

Theaet. What way?

Str. We must first examine the points which now seem clear, lest we may have fallen into some confusion about them and may therefore carelessly agree with one another, thinking that we are judging correctly.

Theaet. Express your meaning more clearly.

Str. It seems to me that Parmenides and all who ever undertook a critical definition of the number and nature of realities have talked to us rather carelessly.

Theaet. How so?

Str. Every one of them seems to tell us a story, as if we were children. One says there are three principles, that some of them are sometimes waging a sort of war with each other, and sometimes become friends and marry and have children and bring them up; and another says there are two, wet and dry or hot and cold, which he settles together and unites in marriage. [*](This refers apparently to Pherecydes and the early lonians.) And the Eleatic sect in our region, beginning with Xenophanes and even earlier, have their story that all things, as they are called, are really one. Then some Ionian [*](Heracleitus and his followers.) and later some Sicilian [*](Empedocles and his disciples.) Muses reflected that it was safest to combine the two tales and to say that being is many and one, and is (or are) held together by enmity and friendship.

Str. For the more strenuous Muses say it is always simultaneously coming together and separating; but the gentler ones relaxed the strictness of the doctrine of perpetual strife; they say that the all is sometimes one and friendly, under the influence of Aphrodite, and sometimes many and at variance with itself by reason of some sort of strife. Now whether any of them spoke the truth in all this, or not, it is harsh and improper to impute to famous men of old such a great wrong as falsehood. But one assertion can be made without offence.

Theaet. What is that?

Str. That they paid too little attention and consideration to the mass of people like ourselves. For they go on to the end, each in his own way, without caring whether their arguments carry us along with them, or whether we are left behind.

Theaet. What do you mean?

Str. When one of them says in his talk that many, or one, or two are, or have become, or are becoming, and again speaks of hot mingling with cold, and in some other part of his discourse suggests separations and combinations, for heaven’s sake, Theaetetus, do you ever understand what they mean by any of these things? I used to think, when I was younger, that I understood perfectly whenever anyone used this term not-being, which now perplexes us. But you see what a slough of perplexity we are in about it now.

Theaet. Yes, I see.

Str. And perhaps our minds are in this same condition as regards being also; we may think that it is plain sailing and that we understand when the word is used, though we are in difficulties about not-being, whereas really we understand equally little of both.

Theaet. Perhaps.

Str. And we may say the same of all the subjects about which we have been speaking.

Theaet. Certainly.

Str. We will consider most of them later, if you please, but now the greatest and foremost chief of them must be considered.

Theaet. What do you mean? Or, obviously, do you mean that we must first investigate the term being, and see what those who use it think it signifies?

Str. You have caught my meaning at once, Theaetetus. For I certainly do mean that this is the best method for us to use, by questioning them directly, as if they were present in person; so here goes: Come now, all you who say that hot and cold or any two such principles are the universe, what is this that you attribute to both of them when you say that both and each are? What are we to understand by this being (or are) of yours? Is this a third principle besides those two others, and shall we suppose that the universe is three, and not two any longer, according to your doctrine? For surely when you call one only of the two being you do not mean that both of them equally are; for in both cases [*](In both cases, i.e. whether you say that one only is or that both are, they would both be one, namely being.) they would pretty certainly be one and not two.

Theaet. True.

Str. Well, then, do you wish to call both of them together being?

Theaet. Perhaps.

Str. But, friends, we will say, even in that way you would very clearly be saying that the two are one.

Theaet. You are perfectly right.

Str. Then since we are in perplexity, do you tell us plainly what you wish to designate when you say being. For it is clear that you have known this all along, whereas we formerly thought we knew, but are now perplexed. So first give us this information, that we may not think we understand what you say, when the exact opposite is the case.— If we speak in this way and make this request of them and of all who say that the universe is more than one, shall we, my boy, be doing anything improper?

Theaet. Not in the least.

Str. Well then, must we not, so far as we can, try to learn from those who say that the universe is one [*](The Eleatic Zeno and his school.) what they mean when they say being?

Theaet. Of course we must.

Str. Then let them answer this question: Do you say that one only is? We do, they will say; will they not?

Theaet. Yes.

Str. Well then, do you give the name of being to anything?

Theaet. Yes.

Str. Is it what you call one, using two names for the same thing, or how is this?

Theaet. What is their next answer, Stranger?

Str. It is plain, Theaetetus, that he who maintains their theory will not find it the easiest thing in the world to reply to our present question or to any other.

Theaet. Why not?

Str. It is rather ridiculous to assert that two names exist when you assert that nothing exists but unity.

Theaet. Of course it is.

Str. And in general there would be no sense in accepting the statement that a name has any existence.

Theaet. Why?

Str. Because he who asserts that the name is other than the thing, says that there are two entities.

Theaet. Yes.

Str. And further, if he asserts that the name is the same as the thing, he will be obliged to say that it is the name of nothing, or if he says it is the name of something, the name will turn out to be the name of a name merely and of nothing else.

Theaet. True.

Str. And the one will turn out to be the name of one and also the one of the name. [*](In other words, one, considered as a word, will be the name of unity, but considered as a reality, it will be the unity of which the word one is the name. The sentence is made somewhat difficult of comprehension, doubtless for the purpose of indicating the confusion caused by the identification of the name wlth the thing.)

Theaet. Necessarily.

Str. And will they say that the whole is other than the one which exists or the same with it?

Theaet. Of course they will and do say it is the same.

Str. If then the whole is, as Parmenides says,

1. On all sides like the mass of a well-rounded sphere, equally weighted in every direction from the middle; for neither greater nor less must needs be on this or that,

Theaet. Certainly.

Str. But yet nothing hinders that which has parts from possessing the attribute of unity in all its parts and being in this way one, since it is all and whole.

Theaet. Very true.

Str. But is it not impossible for that which is in this condition to be itself absolute unity?

Theaet. Why?

Str. Why surely that which is really one must, according to right reason, be affirmed to be absolutely without parts.

Theaet. Yes, it must.

Str. But such a unity consisting of many parts will not harmonize with reason.

Theaet. I understand.

Str. Then shall we agree that being is one and a whole because it has the attribute of unity, or shall we deny that being is a whole at all?

Theaet. It is a hard choice that you offer me.

Str. That is very true; for being, having in a way had unity imposed upon it, will evidently not be the same as unity, and the all will be more than one.

Theaet. Yes.

Str. And further, if being is not a whole through having had the attribute of unity imposed upon it, and the absolute whole exists, then it turns out that being lacks something of being.

Theaet. Certainly.

Str. And so, by this reasoning, since being is deprived of being, it will be not-being.

Theaet. So it will.

Str. And again the all becomes more than the one, since being and the whole have acquired each its own nature.

Theaet. Yes.

Str. But if the whole does not exist at all, being is involved in the same difficulties as before, and besides not existing it could not even have ever come into existence

Theaet. What do you mean?

Str. That which comes into existence always comes into existence as a whole. Therefore no one who does not reckon the whole among things that are can speak of existence or generation as being.

Theaet. That certainly seems to be true.

Str. And moreover, that which is not a whole cannot have any quantity at all; for if it has any quantity, whatever that quantity may be, it must necessarily be of that quantity as a whole.

Theaet. Precisely.

Str. And so countless other problems, each one involving infinite difficulties, will confront him who says that being is, whether it be two or only one.

Theaet. The problems now in sight make that pretty clear; for each leads up to another which brings greater and more grievous wandering in connection with whatever has previously been said.

Str. Now we have not discussed all those who treat accurately of being and not-being [*](The Ionic philosophers, the Eleatics, Heracleitus, Empedocles, the Megarians, Gorgias, Protagoras, and Antisthenes all discussed the problem of being and not-being.); however, let this suffice. But we must turn our eyes to those whose doctrines are less precise, that we may know from all sources that it is no easier to define the nature of being than that of not-being.

Theaet. Very well, then, we must proceed towards those others also.

Str. And indeed there seems to be a battle like that of the gods and the giants going on among them, because of their disagreement about existence.

Theaet. How so?

Str. Some of them [*](The atomists (Leucippus, Democritus, and their followers), who taught that nothing exists except atoms and the void. Possibly there is a covert reference to Aristippus who was, like Plato, a pupil of Socrates.) drag down everything from heaven and the invisible to earth, actually grasping rocks and trees with their hands; for they lay their hands on all such things and maintain stoutly that that alone exists which can be touched and handled; for they define existence and body, or matter, as identical, and if anyone says that anything else, which has no body, exists, they despise him utterly, and will not listen to any other theory than their own.

Theaet. Terrible men they are of whom you speak. I myself have met with many of them.

Str. Therefore those who contend against them defend themselves very cautiously with weapons derived from the invisible world above, maintaining forcibly that real existence consists of certain ideas which are only conceived by the mind and have no body. But the bodies of their opponents, and that which is called by them truth, they break up into small fragments in their arguments, calling them, not existence, but a kind of generation combined with motion. There is always, Theaetetus, a tremendous battle being fought about these questions between the two parties.

Theaet. True.

Str. Let us, therefore, get from each party in turn a statement in defence of that which they regard as being.

Theaet. How shall we get it?

Str. It is comparatively easy to get it from those who say that it consists in ideas, for they are peaceful folk; but from those who violently drag down everything into matter, it is more difficult, perhaps even almost impossible, to get it. However, this is the way I think we must deal with them.

Theaet. What way?

Str. Our first duty would be to make them really better, if it were in any way possible; but if this cannot be done, let us pretend that they are better, by assuming that they would be willing to answer more in accordance with the rules of dialectic than they actually are. For the acknowledgement of anything by better men is more valid than if made by worse men. But it is not these men that we care about; we merely seek the truth.

Theaet. Quite right.

Str. Now tell them, assuming that they have become better, to answer you, and do you interpret what they say.

Theaet. I will do so.

Str. Let them tell whether they say there is such a thing as a mortal animal.

Theaet. Of course they do.

Str. And they agree that this is a body with a soul in it, do they not?

Theaet. Certainly.

Str. Giving to soul a place among things which exist?

Theaet. Yes.

Str. Well then, do they not say that one soul is just and another unjust, one wise and another foolish?

Theaet. Of course.

Str. And do they not say that each soul becomes just by the possession and presence of justice, and the opposite by the possession and presence of the opposite?

Theaet. Yes, they agree to this also.

Str. But surely they will say that that which is capable of becoming present or absent exists.

Theaet. Yes, they say that.

Str. Granting, then, that justice and wisdom and virtue in general and their opposites exist, and also, of course, the soul in which they become present, do they say that any of these is visible and tangible, or that they are all invisible?

Theaet. That none of them is visible, or pretty nearly that.

Str. Now here are some other questions. Do they say they possess any body?

Theaet. They no longer answer the whole of that question in the same way. They say they believe the soul itself has a sort of body, but as to wisdom and the other several qualities about which you ask, they have not the face either to confess that they have no existence or to assert that they are all bodies.

Str. It is clear, Theaetetus, that our men have grown better; for the aboriginal sons of the dragon’s teeth [*](This refers to the story of Cadmus, who killed a dragon and then sowed its teeth, from which sprang fierce warriors to be his companions. Born of the dragon’s teeth and of earth, they would naturally be of the earth, earthy.) among them would not shrink from any such utterance; they would maintain that nothing which they cannot squeeze with their hands has any existence at all.

Theaet. That is pretty nearly what they believe.

Str. Then let us question them further; for if they are willing to admit that any existence, no matter how small, is incorporeal, that is enough. They will then have to tell what is which is inherent in the incorporeal and the corporeal alike, and which they have in mind when they say that both exit. Perhaps they would be at a loss for an answer; and if they are in that condition, consider whether they might not accept a suggestion if we offered it, and might not agree that the nature of being is as follows.

Theaet. What is it? Speak, and we shall soon know.

Str. I suggest that everything which possesses any power of any kind, either to produce a change in anything of any nature or to be affected even in the least degree by the slightest cause, though it be only on one occasion, has real existence. For I set up as a definition which defines being, that it is nothing else but power.

Theaet. Well, since they have at the moment nothing better of their own to offer, they accept this.

Str. Good; for perhaps later something else may occur to them and to us. As between them and us, then, let us asume that this is for the present agreed upon and settled.

Theaet. It is settled.

Str. Then let us go to the others, the friends of ideas; and do you interpret for us their doctrines also.

Theaet. I will.

Str. You distinguish in your speech between generation and being, do you not? [*](i.e., between the process of coming into existence and existence itself. It is difficult to determine exactly who the idealists are whose doctrines are here discussed. Possibly Plato is restating or amending some of his own earlier beliefs.)

Theaet. Yes, we do.

Str. And you say that with the body, by means of perception, we participate in generation, and with the soul, by means of thought, we participate in real being, which last is always unchanged and the same, whereas generation is different at different times.

Theaet. Yes, that is what we say.

Str. But, most excellent men, how shall we define this participation which you attribute to both? Is it not that of which we were just speaking?

Theaet. What is that?

Str. A passive or active condition arising out of some power which is derived from a combination of elements. Possibly, Theaetetus, you do not hear their reply to this, but I hear it, perhaps, because I am used to them.

Theaet. What is it, then, that they say?

Str. They do not concede to us what we said just now to the aboriginal giants about being.

Theaet. What was it?

Str. We set up as a satisfactory sort of definition of being, the presence of the power to act or be acted upon in even the slightest degree.

Theaet. Yes.

Str. It is in reply to this that they say generation participates in the power of acting and of being acted upon, but that neither power is connected with being.

Theaet. And is there not something in that?

Str. Yes, something to which we must reply that we still need to learn more clearly from them whether they agree that the soul knows and that being is known.

Theaet. They certainly assent to that.

Str. Well then, do you say that knowing or being known is an active or passive condition, or both? Or that one is passive and the other active? Or that neither has any share at all in either of the two?

Theaet. Clearly they would say that neither has any share in either; for otherwise they would be contradicting themselves.

Str. I understand; this at least is true, that if to know is active, to be known must in turn be passive. Now being, since it is, according to this theory, known by the intelligence, in so far as it is known, is moved, since it is acted upon, which we say cannot be the case with that which is in a state of rest.

Theaet. Right.

Str. But for heaven’s sake, shall we let ourselves easily be persuaded that motion and life and soul and mind are really not present to absolute being, that it neither lives nor thinks, but awful and holy, devoid of mind, is fixed and immovable?

Theaet. That would be a shocking admission to make, Stranger.

Str. But shall we say that it has mind, but not life?

Theaet. How can we?

Str. But do we say that both of these exist in it, and yet go on to say that it does not possess them in a soul?

Theaet. But how else can it possess them?

Str. Then shall we say that it has mind and life and soul, but, although endowed with soul, is absolutely immovable?

Theaet. All those things seem to me absurd.

Str. And it must be conceded that motion and that which is moved exist.

Theaet. Of course.

Str. Then the result is, Theaetetus, that if there is no motion, there is no mind in anyone about anything anywhere.

Theaet. Exactly.

Str. And on the other hand, if we admit that all things are in flux and motion, we shall remove mind itself from the number of existing things by this theory also.

Theaet. How so?

Str. Do you think that sameness of quality or nature or relations could ever come into existence without the state of rest?

Theaet. Not at all.

Str. What then? Without these can you see how mind could exist or come into existence anywhere?

Theaet. By no means.

Str. And yet we certainly must contend by every argument against him who does away with knowledge or reason or mind and then makes any dogmatic assertion about anything.

Theaet. Certainly.

Str. Then the philosopher, who pays the highest honor to these things, must necessarily, as it seems, because of them refuse to accept the theory of those who say the universe is at rest, whether as a unity or in many forms, and must also refuse utterly to listen to those who say that being is universal motion; he must quote the children’s prayer, [*](Nothing further seems to he known about this prayer. Stallbaum thought the reference was to a game in which the children said ὅσα ἀκίνητα καὶ κεκινημένα εἴη, may all unmoved things be moved.) all things immovable and in motion, and must say that being and the universe consist of both.

Theaet. Very true.

Str. Do we not, then, seem to have attained at last a pretty good definition of being?

Theaet. Certainly.

Str. But dear me, Theaetetus! I think we are now going to discover the difficulty of the inquiry about being.

Theaet. What is this again? What do you mean?

Str. My dear fellow, don’t you see that we are now densely ignorant about it, but think that we are saying something worth while?

Theaet. I think so, at any rate, and I do not at all understand what hidden error we have fallen into.

Str. Then watch more closely and see whether, if we make these admissions, we may not justly be asked the same questions we asked a while ago of those who said the universe was hot and cold. [*](Cf. 242d above.)

Theaet. What questions? Remind me.

Str. Certainly; and I will try to do this by questioning you, as we questioned them at the time. I hope we shall at the same time make a little progress.

Theaet. That is right.

Str. Very well, then; you say that motion and rest are most directly opposed to each other, do you not?

Theaet. Of course.

Str. And yet you say that both and each of them equally exist?

Theaet. Yes, I do.

Str. And in granting that they exist, do you mean to say that both and each are in motion?

Theaet. By no means.

Str. But do you mean that they are at rest, when you say that both exist?

Theaet. Of course not.

Str. Being, then, you consider to be something else in the soul, a third in addition to these two, inasmuch as you think rest and motion are embraced by it; and since you comprehend and observe that they participate in existence, you therefore said that they are. Eh?

Theaet. We really do seem to have a vague vision of being as some third thing, when we say that motion and rest are.

Str. Then being is not motion and rest in combination, but something else, different from them.

Theaet. Apparently.

Str. According to its own nature, then, being is neither at rest nor in motion.

Theaet. You are about right.

Str. What is there left, then, to which a man can still turn his mind who wishes to establish within himself any clear conception of being?

Theaet. What indeed?

Str. There is nothing left, I think, to which he can turn easily. For if a thing is not in motion, it must surely be at rest; and again, what is not at rest, must surely be in motion. But now we find that being has emerged outside of both these classes. Is that possible, then?

Theaet. No, nothing could be more impossible.

Str. Then there is this further thing which we ought to remember.

Theaet. What is it?

Str. That when we were asked to what the appellation of not-being should be applied, we were in the greatest perplexity. Do you remember?

Theaet. Of course I do.

Str. Well, then, are we now in any less perplexity about being?

Theaet. It seems to me, stranger, that we are, if possible, in even greater.

Str. This point, then, let us put down definitely as one of complete perplexity. But since being and not-being participate equally in the perplexity, there is now at last some hope that as either of them emerges more dimly or more clearly, so also will the other emerge. If, however, we are able to see neither of them, we will at any rate push our discussion through between both of them at once as creditably as we can.

Theaet. Good.

Str. Let us, then, explain how we come to be constantly calling this same thing by many names.

Theaet. What, for instance? Please give an example.

Str. We speak of man, you know, and give him many additional designations; we attribute to him colors and forms and sizes and vices and virtues, and in all these cases and countless others we say not only that he is man, but we say he is good and numberless other things. So in the same way every single thing which we supposed to be one, we treat as many and call by many names.

Theaet. True.

Str. And it is in this way, I fancy, that we have provided a fine feast for youngsters and for old men whose learning has come to them late in life; for example, it is easy enough for anyone to grasp the notion that the many cannot possibly be one, nor the one many, and so, apparently, they take pleasure in saying that we must not call a man good, but must call the good good, and a man man. I fancy, Theaetetus, you often run across people who take such matters seriously; sometimes they are elderly men whose poverty of intellect makes them admire such quibbles, and who think this is a perfect mine of wisdom they have discovered. [*](Those are here satirized who deny the possibillty of all except identical predication. Such were Antisthenes, Euthydemus, and Dionysodorus. The two last are probably those referred to as old men whose learning came late in life.)

Theaet. Certainly.

Str. Then, to include in our discussion all those who have ever engaged in any talk whatsoever about being, let us address our present arguments to these men as well as to all those with whom we were conversing before, and let us employ the form of questions.

Theaet. What are the arguments?

Str. Shall we attribute neither being to rest and motion, nor any attribute to anything, but shall we in our discussions assume that they do not mingle and cannot participate in one another? Or shall we gather all things together, believing that they are capable of combining with one another? Or are some capable of it and others not? Which of these alternatives, Theaetetus, should we say is their choice?

Theaet. I cannot answer these questions for them.

Str. Then why did you not answer each separately and see what the result was in each case?

Theaet. A good suggestion.

Str. And let us, if you please, assume that they say first that nothing has any power to combine with anything else. Then motion and rest will have no share in being, will they?

Theaet. No.

Str. Well, then, will either of them be, if it has no share in being?

Theaet. It will not.

Str. See how by this admission everything is overturned at once, as it seems—the doctrine of those who advocate universal motion, that of the partisans of unity and rest, and that of the men who teach that all existing things are distributed into invariable and everlasting kinds. For all of these make use of being as an attribute. One party says that the universe is in motion, another that it is at rest.

Theaet. Exactly.

Str. And further, all who teach that things combine at one time and separate at another, whether infinite elements combine in unity and are derived from unity or finite elements separate and then unite, regardless of whether they say that these changes take place successively or without interruption, would be talking nonsense in all these doctrines, if there is no intermingling.

Theaet. Quite right.

Str. Then, too, the very men who forbid us to call anything by another name because it participates in the effect produced by another, would be made most especially ridiculous by this doctrine.

Theaet. How so?

Str. Because they are obliged in speaking of anything to use the expressions to be, apart, from the rest, by itself, and countless others; they are powerless to keep away from them or avoid working them into their discourse; and therefore there is no need of others to refute them, but, as the saying goes, their enemy and future opponent is of their own household whom they always carry about with them as they go, giving forth speech from within them, like the wonderful Eurycles. [*](Eurycles was a ventriloquist and soothsayer of the fifth century, cf. Aristoph. Wasps 1019)

Theaet. That is a remarkably accurate illustration

Str. But what if we ascribe to all things the power of participation in one another?

Theaet. Even I can dispose of that assumption.

Str. How?

Theaet. Because motion itself would be wholly at rest, and rest in turn would itself be in motion, if these two could be joined with one another.

Str. But surely this at least is most absolutely impossible, that motion be at rest and rest be in motion?

Theaet. Of course.

Str. Then only the third possibility is left.

Theaet. Yes.

Str. And certainly one of these three must be true; either all things will mingle with one another, or none will do so, or some will and others will not.

Theaet. Of course.

Str. And certainly the first two were found to be impossible.

Theaet. Yes.

Str. Then everybody who wishes to answer correctly will adopt the remaining one of the three possibilities.

Theaet. Precisely.

Str. Now since some things will commingle and others will not, they are in much the same condition as the letters of the alphabet; for some of these do not fit each other, and others do.

Theaet. Of course.

Str. And the vowels, to a greater degree than the others, run through them all as a bond, so that without one of the vowels the other letters cannot be joined one to another.

Theaet. Certainly.

Str. Now does everybody know which letters can join with which others? Or does he who is to join them properly have need of art?

Theaet. He has need of art.

Str. What art?

Theaet. The art of grammar.

Str. And is not the same true in connection with high and low sounds? Is not he who has the art to know the sounds which mingle and those which do not, musical, and he who does not know unmusical?

Theaet. Yes.

Str. And we shall find similar conditions, then, in all the other arts and processes which are devoid of art?

Theaet. Of course.

Str. Now since we have agreed that the classes or genera also commingle with one another, or do not commingle, in the same way, must not he possess some science and proceed by the processes of reason who is to show correctly which of the classes harmonize with which, and which reject one another, and also if he is to show whether there are some elements extending through all and holding them together so that they can mingle, and again, when they separate, whether there are other universal causes of separation?

Theaet. Certainly he needs science, and perhaps even the greatest of sciences.

Str. Then, Theaetetus, what name shall we give to this science? Or, by Zeus, have we unwittingly stumbled upon the science that belongs to free men and perhaps found the philosopher while we were looking for the sophist?

Theaet. What do you mean?

Str. Shall we not say that the division of things by classes and the avoidance of the belief that the same class is another, or another the same, belongs to the science of dialectic?

Theaet. Yes, we shall.

Str. Then he who is able to do this has a clear perception of one form or idea extending entirely through many individuals each of which lies apart, and of many forms differing from one another but included in one greater form, and again of one form evolved by the union of many wholes, and of many forms entirely apart and separate. This is the knowledge and ability to distinguish by classes how individual things can or cannot be associated with one another.

Theaet. Certainly it is.

Str. But you surely, I suppose, will not grant the art of dialectic to any but the man who pursues philosophy in purity and righteousness.

Theaet. How could it be granted to anyone else?

Str. Then it is in some region like this that we shall always, both now and hereafter, discover the philosopher, if we look for him; he also is hard to see clearly, but the difficulty is not the same in his case and that of the sophist.

Theaet. How do they differ?

Str. The sophist runs away into the darkness of not-being, feeling his way in it by practice, [*](By practice, i.e., by empirical knowledge as opposed to reason.) and is hard to discern on account of the darkness of the place. Don’t you think so?

Theaet. It seems likely.

Str. But the philosopher, always devoting himself through reason to the idea of being, is also very difficult to see on account of the brilliant light of the place; for the eyes of the soul of the multitude are not strong enough to endure the sight of the divine.

Theaet. This also seems no less true than what you said about the sophist.

Str. Now we will make more accurate investigations about the philosopher hereafter, if we still care to do so; but as to the sophist, it is clear that we must not relax our efforts until we have a satisfactory view of him.

Theaet. You are right.

Str. Since, therefore, we are agreed that some of the classes will mingle with one another, and others will not, and some will mingle with few and others with many, and that there is nothing to hinder some from mingling universally with all, let us next proceed with our discussion by investigating, not all the forms or ideas, lest we become confused among so many, but some only, selecting them from those that are considered the most important; let us first consider their several natures, then what their power of mingling with one another is, and so, if we cannot grasp being and not-being with perfect clearness, we shall at any rate not fail to reason fully about them, so far as the method of our present inquiry permits. Let us in this way see whether it is, after all, permitted us to say that not-being really is, although not being, and yet come off unscathed.

Theaet. Yes; that is the proper thing for us to do.

Str. The most important, surely, of the classes or genera are those which we just mentioned; being itself and rest and motion.

Theaet. Yes, by far.

Str. And further, two of them, we say, cannot mingle with each other.

Theaet. Decidedly not.

Str. But being can mingle with both of them, for they both are.

Theaet. Of course.

Str. Then these prove to be three.

Theaet. To be sure.

Str. Each of them is, then, other than the remaining two, but the same as itself.

Theaet. Yes.

Str. But what do we mean by these words, the same and other, which we have just used? Are they two new classes, different from the other three, but always of necessity mingled with them, and must we conduct our inquiry on the assumption that there are five classes, not three, or are we unconsciously speaking of one of those three when we say the same or other?

Theaet. Perhaps.

Str. But certainly motion and rest are neither other nor the same.

Theaet. How so?

Str. Whatever term we apply to rest and motion in common cannot be either of those two.

Theaet. Why not?

Str. Because motion would be at rest and rest would be in motion; in respect of both, for whichever of the two became other would force the other to change its nature into that of its opposite, since it would participate in its opposite.

Theaet. Exactly so.

Str. Both certainly partake of the same and the other. [*](i.e., sameness and difference can he predicated of both.)

Theaet. Yes.

Str. Then we must not say that motion, or rest either, is the same or other.

Theaet. No.

Str. But should we conceive of being and the same as one?

Theaet. Perhaps.

Str. But if being and the same have no difference of meaning, then when we go on and say that both rest and motion are, we shall be saying that they are both the same, since they are.

Theaet. But surely that is impossible.

Str. Then it is impossible for being and the same to be one.

Theaet. Pretty nearly.

Str. So we shall consider the same a fourth class in addition to the other three?

Theaet. Certainly.

Str. Then shall we call the other a fifth class? Or must we conceive of this and being as two names for one class?

Theaet. May be.

Str. But I fancy you admit that among the entities some are always conceived as absolute, and some as relative.

Theaet. Of course.

Str. And other is always relative to other, is it not?

Theaet. Yes.

Str. It would not be so, if being and the other were not utterly different. If the other, like being, partook of both absolute and relative existence, there would be also among the others that exist another not in relation to any other; but as it is, we find that whatever is other is just what it is through compulsion of some other.

Theaet. The facts are as you say.

Str. Then we must place the nature of the other as a fifth among the classes in which we select our examples.

Theaet. Yes.

Str. And we shall say that it permeates them all; for each of them is other than the rest, not by reason of its own nature, but because it partakes of the idea of the other.

Theaet. Exactly.

Str. Let us now state our conclusions, taking up the five classes one at a time.

Theaet. How?

Str. Take motion first; we say that it is entirely other than rest, do we not?

Theaet. We do.

Str. Then it is not rest.

Theaet. Not at all.