_Socr._ Let us follow our late principle, and lay it down that there is
nothing which is of itself one thing; and thus black and white, and
every other colour, will appear to us to be produced by the application
of the eyes to a corresponding movement, and each thing that we say is
colour, will neither be that which is applied, nor that to which it is
applied, but some intermediate production peculiar to each. Would you
positively maintain, that what each colour appears to you, such it also
appears to a dog, and every other animal?
_Theæ._ Not I, by Jupiter.
_Socr._ But what? Does any thing appear similar to another man and to
you? are you positive about this, or rather that it does not appear the
same even to you, because you are never identical with yourself?
_Theæ._ The latter seems to me to be the case rather than the former.
_Socr._ If, therefore, that which we measure by comparison, or which we
touch, were great, or white, or warm, it would never, by coming in
contact with any thing else, become different, for it would not be in
any respect changed. But if that which measures or touches were some one
of these things, it could not, in consequence of something else
approaching it or being affected in any way, become any thing else,
because it would not itself be in any respect affected. 29. For now, my
friend, we are in a manner compelled to assert things altogether
wonderful and ridiculous, as Protagoras would acknowledge, and every one
who supports his opinions.
_Theæ._ How and what do you mean?
_Socr._ Take a trifling example, and you will understand all that I
wish. Six dice for instance, if you should put four by them, we say are
more than the four and half as many again, but if twelve we say they are
fewer, and the half; nor would it be allowable to say otherwise. Would
you allow it?
_Theæ._ Not I, indeed.
_Socr._ What then? If Protagoras or any one else should ask, “Theætetus,
is it possible for any thing to become greater or more otherwise than by
being increased? What would you answer?
_Theæ._ If, Socrates, I should answer what appears to me to be the case
with reference to the present question, I should say that it is not
possible; but if with reference to the former question, to avoid
contradicting myself, I should say that it is possible.
_Socr._ By Juno, well and divinely said, my friend. But, as it seems, if
you should answer that it is possible, something like that saying of
Euripides will happen; for the tongue will be blameless, but the mind
not blameless[149].
-----
Footnote 149:
See Eurip. Hippol. l. 612.
-----
_Theæ._ True.
30. _Socr._ If, therefore, you and I were skilful and wise, after we had
thoroughly examined our minds, we should then, out of mere wantonness,
make trial of each other’s strength, and engaging in such a contest
after the manner of the sophists, should mutually parry argument with
argument: but now, as being novices, we shall desire first of all, to
examine what the things themselves are which we have in our minds,
whether they accord with each other, or not at all.
_Theæ._ I should certainly desire this.
_Socr._ And so do I. But since this is the case, shall we not quietly,
seeing we have abundance of leisure, again consider, not feeling any
annoyance, but really examining ourselves, in order to see what those
appearances in us are. And on considering them, we shall say in the
first place, I think, that nothing ever becomes greater or less, either
in bulk, or number, as long as it continues equal to itself. Is it not
so?
_Theæ._ Yes.
31. _Socr._ And, in the second place, that a thing to which nothing is
either added and from which nothing is taken away, will neither be ever
increased or diminished, but always be equal.
_Theæ._ Just so.
_Socr._ And shall we not say, in the third place, that it is impossible
for a thing which did not before exist, to exist afterwards, without it
has been produced and is produced.
_Theæ._ It seems so, indeed.
_Socr._ These three admissions, I think, contend with each other in our
soul, when we speak about dice, or when we say that I, being of the size
I am, having neither increased, nor suffered diminution in the space of
a year, am now larger than you, who are a young man, but afterwards
less, though my bulk has not been diminished, but yours has been
increased. For I am afterwards, what I was not before, without having
been made so. 32. For it is impossible for a thing to have been made,
without being made, and having lost nothing of my bulk, I cannot have
been made less. And the case is the same with ten thousand other things
with reference to ten thousand others, if we admit this. You doubtless
follow me, Theætetus; for you appear to me not to be a novice in things
of this kind.
_Theæ._ By the gods, Socrates, I wonder extremely what these things can
be, and, truly, sometimes when I look at them, I become dizzy.
_Socr._ Theodorus, my friend, appears not to have formed an erroneous
estimate of your disposition; for wonder is very much the affection of a
philosopher; for there is no other beginning of philosophy than this,
and he who said that Iris was the daughter of Thaumas[150], seems not to
have described her genealogy badly. But do you understand now, why these
things are so, from what we say Protagoras maintains, or not yet?
-----
Footnote 150:
Hesiod, Theog. l. 780. Thauma signifies “wonder.”
-----
_Theæ._ I don’t think I do yet.
33. _Socr._ Shall you not, then, be obliged to me, if I assist you in
searching out the true, but concealed opinion of a man, or rather of men
of celebrity?
_Theæ._ How should I not be, and indeed exceedingly obliged to you?
_Socr._ Look round, then, and see that no profane person hears us. But
they are so who think that nothing else exists except what they can
grasp with their hands, but do not admit that actions, and productions,
and whatever is invisible, are to be reckoned in the number of things
that exist.
_Theæ._ Indeed, Socrates, you speak of hard and obstinate men.
_Socr._ For they are very ignorant[151], my boy. But there are others
far more refined than these, whose mysteries I am about to reveal to
you. Their principle, on which all the things, that we have just now
mentioned, depend, is this: That the universe is motion, and nothing
else besides, but that there are two species of motion, each infinite in
amount, and that one has an active, the other a passive power. 34. That
from the intercourse and friction of these with one another are formed
productions infinite in number, but of two kinds, one that is
perceivable, the other perception, which always coincides and is
engendered together with that which is perceivable. Now to the
perceptions we give the following names, seeing, hearing, smelling, cold
and heat, and moreover pleasures, pains, desires, and fears are so
called, and there are innumerable others which have no name, and vast
multitudes that have been named: again there is a class of perceivable
things akin to each of these, all kinds of colours to all kinds of
vision, and in like manner voices to hearing, and other perceivable
things are produced corresponding to the other perceptions. What then is
the meaning of this discourse, Theætetus, in reference to the former? Do
you understand what it is?
-----
Footnote 151:
Literally “unmusical.”
-----
_Theæ._ Not very well, Socrates.
_Socr._ But observe if by any means it can be brought to a conclusion.
For it means to say that all these things are, as we said, moved, and
that there is swiftness and slowness in their motion. 35. Whatever then
is slow is moved in the same place and towards things near it, and so
produces, and the things which are produced are accordingly slower; and
on the contrary, whatever is swift moves towards things at a distance,
and so produces, and the things which are produced are accordingly
swifter, for they are impelled, and their motion consists in impulse.
When, therefore, the eye and any of the things that correspond to it
meet together and produce whiteness, and the perception connate to this,
which would never have been produced had each of them approached
something else, then they being in the meanwhile impelled, _that is to
say_, sight from the eyes, and whiteness from that which together with
it generates colour, the eye becomes filled with vision, and then sees,
and becomes not vision, but a seeing eye; but that which together with
it generates colour is filled with whiteness, and becomes not whiteness,
but white, whether it is wood or stone, or whatever may happen to be
tinted with a colour of this kind. 36. And so with the rest, hard and
warm, and every thing, we must in the same manner conceive that none of
these is any thing of itself, as we have observed before that all things
and of all kinds are produced by their intercourse with each other, from
motion, for, as they say, we cannot determine positively with regard to
any one thing, that that which is active really exists, nor again that
which is passive; for neither is the active any thing before it meets
with the passive, nor the passive before it meets with the active; and
that which, meeting with any thing, is active, when it falls upon
something else, is found to be passive. 37. So that it results from all
this, as we said at the beginning, that nothing is essentially one, but
is always being produced by something, and the word “being” must be
entirely done away with, although we have already been compelled by
custom and ignorance to use it frequently; but, as the sages say, we
ought not to allow any thing, either of any other, or of me, or this, or
that, or any other name which designates permanency, but that according
to nature, things ought to be said to be produced and made, to perish
and be changed: so, if any one asserts permanency of any thing, he who
does so may easily be confuted. Thus then we ought to speak of things
individually, and of many collectively, to which collection are given
the names of man, stone, animal, and each several species. Do not these
things, Theætetus, appear pleasant to you, and have you not found them
agreeable to your taste?
_Theæ._ I don’t know, Socrates; for I can’t make you out; whether you
are giving your own opinions or are trying me.
38. _Socr._ You do not remember, my friend, that I neither know nor
claim as my own any of these things, but that I am barren of them, but I
act the midwife towards you, and for this purpose I enchant you, and put
before you the opinions of the several wise men, that you may taste
them, until I bring your own opinion to light: but when it is brought
forth, I will then examine whether it shall prove to be empty or
productive. Be therefore confident and bold, and answer in an honest and
manly way, what you think of the questions I put to you.
_Theæ._ Ask then.
_Socr._ Tell me then again, whether it is your opinion that the good,
and the beautiful, and every thing that we just now mentioned, have an
actual existence or are constantly being produced?
_Theæ._ To me indeed, when I hear you thus explaining the matter, it is
wonderful how far you appear to have reason on your side, and I think
that your statements must be admitted.
39. _Socr._ Let us not, then, omit what remains of it. But it remains
that we should speak of dreams, diseases, and, besides other things, of
madness; and whatever else is called error of hearing or seeing, or of
any other perception. For you know, without doubt, that in all these
cases the doctrine which we have just now described, is considered to be
completely confuted, since the sensations produced in these instances
are utterly false, and so far are the things that appear to each person
from existing, that quite contrariwise none of the things that appear
have any real existence.
_Theæ._ You speak most truly, Socrates.
_Socr._ What argument, then, remains for him, who asserts that
perception is science, and that things which appear to every one are to
that person what they appear to be?
_Theæ._ I am afraid to say, Socrates, that I have no answer to give,
because you just now blamed me for having said so: but in truth I cannot
controvert the fact, that those who are mad or dreaming, form false
opinions, since some of the former think they are gods, and the latter
that they are winged and fancy that they are flying in their sleep.
40. _Socr._ Do you not know, then, the controversy that is raised on
these points, especially about dreaming and being awake?
_Theæ._ What is that?
_Socr._ That which I think you have often heard, when people ask, what
proof one could give, if any one should ask us now at the present
moment, whether we are asleep, and all our thoughts are dreams, or
whether we are awake, and really conversing with each other.
_Theæ._ And indeed, Socrates, it is difficult to say what proof one
ought to give: for in both states all things in a manner correspond with
each other. For, with respect to our present conversation, nothing
hinders our fancying that we converse with each other in a dream: and
when in sleep we fancy we are telling our dreams, the similarity of one
with the other is surprising[152].
-----
Footnote 152:
Of conversations when awake, and of fancied conversations in dreams.
-----
_Socr._ You see, then, that it is not difficult to raise a controversy,
since it is even controverted whether a state is that of being awake or
dreaming; moreover since the time during which we sleep is equal to that
when we are awake, in each of these states our soul persists that the
opinions that are present for the time are most certainly true, so that
for an equal space of time we say that these are real, and for an equal
space that those are, and we are equally positive for each of them.
_Theæ._ Most assuredly.
41. _Socr._ May not, then, the same argument be used with respect to
diseases and madness, except with regard to time, that it is not equal.
_Theæ._ Right.
_Socr._ What then? Shall truth be defined by length and brevity of time?
_Theæ._ That, indeed, would be ridiculous in many ways.
_Socr._ Have you, then, any other clear mark by which you can shew which
of these opinions is true?
_Theæ._ I think not.
_Socr._ Hear, therefore, from me, what will be said about these things
by those who maintain that appearances are always real to the person to
whom they appear. They will question you thus, I think: “Theætetus, can
a thing which is totally different from another, have the same power as
that other?” And we are not to suppose that the thing we ask about is
partly the same, and partly different, but altogether different.
_Theæ._ It is impossible that it should possess any thing the same,
either in power, or in any other respect, since it is entirely
different.
42. _Socr._ Must we not, then, necessarily confess, that a thing of this
kind is dissimilar?
_Theæ._ It seems so to me.
_Socr._ If, therefore, any thing happens to become similar or dissimilar
to any thing, whether to itself or to another, so far as it becomes
similar we shall say it is the same, but, so far as dissimilar,
different.
_Theæ._ Necessarily so.
_Socr._ Have we not said before, that there are many, and indeed
innumerable things, which are active, and likewise passive?
_Theæ._ Yes.
_Socr._ And moreover, that one thing commingled first with one thing and
then with another, will produce not the same, but different things.
_Theæ._ Certainly.
_Socr._ Let us speak, then, of you and me and other things in the same
manner, of Socrates in health, and again of Socrates ill. Whether shall
we say that the latter is similar to the former or dissimilar?
_Theæ._ By Socrates ill, do you mean the whole of the latter opposed to
the whole of the former, Socrates in health?
_Socr._ You understand me perfectly; that is the very thing I mean.
_Theæ._ Dissimilar, surely.