Euthydemus

Soc.

Well then, proceeded the other, each thing that is has its own description? Certainly. Then do you mean, as each is, or as it is not? As it is. Yes, he said, for if you recollect, Ctesippus, we showed just now that no one speaks of a thing as it is not; since we saw that no one speaks what is not. Well, what of that? asked Ctesippus: are you and I contradicting any the less? Now tell me, he said, could we contradict if we both spoke the description of the same thing? In this case should we not surely speak the same words? He agreed. But when neither of us speaks the description of the thing, he asked, then we should contradict? Or in this case shall we say that neither of us touched on the matter at all? This also he admitted. Well now, when I for my part speak the description of the thing, while you give another of another thing, do we contradict then? Or do I describe the thing, while you do not describe it at all? How can he who does not describe contradict him who does?[*](The argument is that, if we cannot speak what is not, or falsely, of a thing (this assumption being based on the old confusion of being with existence), there can be only one description of a thing in any given relation, and so there is no room for contradiction. This argument is commonly ascribed to Anthisthenes, the founder of the Cynic sect and opponent of Plato. It is not clear who exactly are meant by the followers of Protagoras or the others before his time.) At this Ctesippus was silent; but I, wondering at the argument, said: How do you mean, Dionysodorus? For, to be plain with you, this argument, though I have heard it from many people on various occasions, never fails to set me wondering—you know the followers of Protagoras made great use of it, as did others even before his time, but to me it always seems to have a wonderful way of upsetting not merely other views but itself also—and I believe I shall learn the truth of it from you far better than from anyone else. There is no such thing as speaking false—that is the substance of your statement, is it not? Either one must speak and speak the truth, or else not speak? He agreed. Then shall we say that speaking false is not, but thinking false is? No, it is the same with thinking, he said. So neither is there any false opinion, I said, at all. No, he said. Nor ignorance, nor ignorant men; or must not ignorance occur, if it ever can, when we put things falsely? Certainly, he said. But there is no such thing as this, I said. No, he said. Is it merely to save your statement, Dionysodorus, that you state it so—just to say something startling—or is it really and truly your view that there is no such thing as an ignorant man? But you, he replied, are to refute me. Well, does your argument allow of such a thing as refutation, if there is nobody to speak false? There is no such thing, said Euthydemus. So neither did Dionysodorus just now bid me refute him? I asked. No, for how can one bid something that is not? Do you bid such a thing? Well, Euthydemus, I said, it is because I do not at all understand these clever devices and palpable hits: I am only a dull sort of thinker. And so I may perhaps be going to say something rather clownish; but you must forgive me.

Soc.

Here it is: if there is no such thing as speaking false or thinking false or being stupid, surely there can be no making a mistake either, when one does something. For in doing it there is no mistaking the thing that is done. You will state it so, will you not? Certainly, he said. My clownish question, I went on, is now already before you. If we make no mistake either in doing or saying or intending, I ask you what in Heaven’s name, on that assumption, is the subject you two set up to teach. Or did you not say just now that your speciality was to put any man who wished in the way of learning virtue? Now really, Socrates, interposed Dionysodorus, are you such an old dotard as to recollect now what we said at first, and will you now recollect what I may have said last year, and yet be at a loss how to deal with the arguments urged at the moment? Well, you see, I replied, they are so very hard, and naturally so; for they fall from the lips of wise men; and this is further shown by the extreme difficulty of dealing with this last one you put forward. For what on earth do you mean, Dionysodorus, by saying I am at a loss how to deal with it? Or is it clear that you mean I am at a loss how to refute it? You must tell me what else your phrase can intend, at a loss how to deal with the arguments. But it is not so very hard to deal with that phrase[*](i.e. νοεῖ, intend.) of yours, he said. Just answer me. Before you answer me, Dionysodorus? I protested. You refuse to answer? he said. Is it fair? Oh yes, it is fair enough, he replied On what principle? I asked: or is it plainly on this one—that you present yourself to us at this moment as universally skilled in discussion, and thus can tell when an answer is to be given, and when not? So now you will not answer a word, because you discern that you ought not to. What nonsense you talk, he said, instead of answering as you should. Come, good sir, do as I bid you and answer, since you confess to my wisdom. Well then, I must obey, I said, and of necessity, it seems; for you are the master here. Now for your question. Then tell me, do things that intend have life when they intend, or do lifeless things do it too? Only those that have life. Now do you know any phrase that has life? Upon my soul, I do not. Why then did you ask just now what my phrase intended? Of course I made a great mistake, I said: I am such a dullard. Or perhaps it was not a mistake, and I was right in saying what I did, that phrases intend. Do you say I was mistaken or not?

Soc.

If I was not, then you will not refute me, with all your skill, and you are at a loss how to deal with the argument; while if I was mistaken, you are in the wrong there, too, for you assert that there is no such thing as making a mistake; and what I say is not aimed at what you said last year. But it seems, I went on, Dionysodorus and Euthydemus, that our argument remains just where it was, and still suffers from the old trouble of knocking others down and then falling itself, and even your art has not yet discovered a way of avoiding this failure—in spite, too, of the wonderful show it makes of accurate reasoning. Here Ctesippus exclaimed: Yes, your way of discussion is marvellous, you men of Thurii or Chios[*](Cf. above, Plat. Euthyd. 271c.) or wherever or however it is you are pleased to get your names; for you have no scruple about babbling like fools. At this I was afraid we might hear some abuse, so I soothed Ctesippus down once more, saying: Ctesippus, I repeat to you what I said to Cleinias just now, that you do not perceive the wonderful nature of our visitors’ skill. Only they are unwilling to give us a display of it in real earnest, but treat us to jugglers’ tricks in the style of Proteus[*](Cf. Hom. Od. 4.385 ff. Proteus was an ancient seer of the sea who, if one could catch him as he slept on the shore and hold him fast while he transformed himself into a variety of creatures, would tell one the intentions of the gods, the fate of absent friends, etc.) the Egyptian adept. So let us take our cue from Menelaus,[*](Cf. Hom. Od. 4.456.) and not leave hold of these gentlemen till they give us a sight of their own serious business. I believe something very fine will be found in them as soon as they begin to be serious. Come, let us beg and exhort and beseech them to let their light shine. For my part, then, I am minded to take the lead once more in showing what sort of persons I pray may be revealed in them: starting from where I left off before, I shall try, as best I can, to describe what follows on from that, to see if I can rouse them to action and make them, in merciful commensuration of my earnest endeavor, be earnest themselves. Will you, Cleinias, I asked, please remind me of the point at which we left off? Now, as far as I can tell, it was something like this: we ended by agreeing that one ought to pursue wisdom, did we not?[*](Cf. Plat. Euthyd. 282d.) Yes, he said. And this pursuit—called philosophy—is an acquiring of knowledge. Is it not so? I asked. Yes, he said. Then what knowledge should we acquire if we acquired it rightly? Is it not absolutely clear that it must be that knowledge which will profit us? Certainly, he said. Now will it profit us at all, if we know how to tell, as we go about, where the earth has most gold buried in it? Perhaps, he said.