STRANGER: Why, because he says--

'Not-being never is, and do thou keep thy thoughts from this way of

enquiry.'

THEAETETUS: Yes, he says so.

STRANGER: Whereas, we have not only proved that things which are not

are, but we have shown what form of being not-being is; for we have

shown that the nature of the other is, and is distributed over all

things in their relations to one another, and whatever part of the other

is contrasted with being, this is precisely what we have ventured to

call not-being.

THEAETETUS: And surely, Stranger, we were quite right.

STRANGER: Let not any one say, then, that while affirming the opposition

of not-being to being, we still assert the being of not-being; for as to

whether there is an opposite of being, to that enquiry we have long

said good-bye--it may or may not be, and may or may not be capable of

definition. But as touching our present account of not-being, let a man

either convince us of error, or, so long as he cannot, he too must say,

as we are saying, that there is a communion of classes, and that

being, and difference or other, traverse all things and mutually

interpenetrate, so that the other partakes of being, and by reason of

this participation is, and yet is not that of which it partakes, but

other, and being other than being, it is clearly a necessity that

not-being should be. And again, being, through partaking of the other,

becomes a class other than the remaining classes, and being other than

all of them, is not each one of them, and is not all the rest, so that

undoubtedly there are thousands upon thousands of cases in which

being is not, and all other things, whether regarded individually or

collectively, in many respects are, and in many respects are not.

THEAETETUS: True.

STRANGER: And he who is sceptical of this contradiction, must think how

he can find something better to say; or if he sees a puzzle, and his

pleasure is to drag words this way and that, the argument will prove to

him, that he is not making a worthy use of his faculties; for there is

no charm in such puzzles, and there is no difficulty in detecting them;

but we can tell him of something else the pursuit of which is noble and

also difficult.

THEAETETUS: What is it?

STRANGER: A thing of which I have already spoken;--letting alone these

puzzles as involving no difficulty, he should be able to follow and

criticize in detail every argument, and when a man says that the same is

in a manner other, or that other is the same, to understand and refute

him from his own point of view, and in the same respect in which he

asserts either of these affections. But to show that somehow and in some

sense the same is other, or the other same, or the great small, or

the like unlike; and to delight in always bringing forward such

contradictions, is no real refutation, but is clearly the new-born babe

of some one who is only beginning to approach the problem of being.

THEAETETUS: To be sure.

STRANGER: For certainly, my friend, the attempt to separate all

existences from one another is a barbarism and utterly unworthy of an

educated or philosophical mind.

THEAETETUS: Why so?

STRANGER: The attempt at universal separation is the final annihilation

of all reasoning; for only by the union of conceptions with one another

do we attain to discourse of reason.

THEAETETUS: True.

STRANGER: And, observe that we were only just in time in making a

resistance to such separatists, and compelling them to admit that one

thing mingles with another.

THEAETETUS: Why so?

STRANGER: Why, that we might be able to assert discourse to be a kind of

being; for if we could not, the worst of all consequences would follow;

we should have no philosophy. Moreover, the necessity for determining

the nature of discourse presses upon us at this moment; if utterly

deprived of it, we could no more hold discourse; and deprived of it we

should be if we admitted that there was no admixture of natures at all.

THEAETETUS: Very true. But I do not understand why at this moment we

must determine the nature of discourse.

STRANGER: Perhaps you will see more clearly by the help of the following

explanation.

THEAETETUS: What explanation?

STRANGER: Not-being has been acknowledged by us to be one among many

classes diffused over all being.

THEAETETUS: True.

STRANGER: And thence arises the question, whether not-being mingles with

opinion and language.

THEAETETUS: How so?

STRANGER: If not-being has no part in the proposition, then all things

must be true; but if not-being has a part, then false opinion and false

speech are possible, for to think or to say what is not--is falsehood,

which thus arises in the region of thought and in speech.

THEAETETUS: That is quite true.

STRANGER: And where there is falsehood surely there must be deceit.

THEAETETUS: Yes.

STRANGER: And if there is deceit, then all things must be full of idols

and images and fancies.

THEAETETUS: To be sure.

STRANGER: Into that region the Sophist, as we said, made his escape,

and, when he had got there, denied the very possibility of falsehood;

no one, he argued, either conceived or uttered falsehood, inasmuch as

not-being did not in any way partake of being.

THEAETETUS: True.

STRANGER: And now, not-being has been shown to partake of being, and

therefore he will not continue fighting in this direction, but he will

probably say that some ideas partake of not-being, and some not, and

that language and opinion are of the non-partaking class; and he will

still fight to the death against the existence of the image-making and

phantastic art, in which we have placed him, because, as he will say,

opinion and language do not partake of not-being, and unless this

participation exists, there can be no such thing as falsehood. And, with

the view of meeting this evasion, we must begin by enquiring into the

nature of language, opinion, and imagination, in order that when we

find them we may find also that they have communion with not-being, and,

having made out the connexion of them, may thus prove that falsehood

exists; and therein we will imprison the Sophist, if he deserves it, or,

if not, we will let him go again and look for him in another class.

THEAETETUS: Certainly, Stranger, there appears to be truth in what

was said about the Sophist at first, that he was of a class not easily

caught, for he seems to have abundance of defences, which he throws up,

and which must every one of them be stormed before we can reach the man

himself. And even now, we have with difficulty got through his first

defence, which is the not-being of not-being, and lo! here is another;

for we have still to show that falsehood exists in the sphere of

language and opinion, and there will be another and another line of

defence without end.

STRANGER: Any one, Theaetetus, who is able to advance even a little

ought to be of good cheer, for what would he who is dispirited at a

little progress do, if he were making none at all, or even undergoing

a repulse? Such a faint heart, as the proverb says, will never take a

city: but now that we have succeeded thus far, the citadel is ours, and

what remains is easier.

THEAETETUS: Very true.

STRANGER: Then, as I was saying, let us first of all obtain a conception

of language and opinion, in order that we may have clearer grounds for

determining, whether not-being has any concern with them, or whether

they are both always true, and neither of them ever false.

THEAETETUS: True.

STRANGER: Then, now, let us speak of names, as before we were speaking

of ideas and letters; for that is the direction in which the answer may

be expected.

THEAETETUS: And what is the question at issue about names?

STRANGER: The question at issue is whether all names may be connected

with one another, or none, or only some of them.

THEAETETUS: Clearly the last is true.

STRANGER: I understand you to say that words which have a meaning when

in sequence may be connected, but that words which have no meaning when

in sequence cannot be connected?

THEAETETUS: What are you saying?

STRANGER: What I thought that you intended when you gave your assent;

for there are two sorts of intimation of being which are given by the

voice.

THEAETETUS: What are they?

STRANGER: One of them is called nouns, and the other verbs.

THEAETETUS: Describe them.

STRANGER: That which denotes action we call a verb.

THEAETETUS: True.

STRANGER: And the other, which is an articulate mark set on those who do

the actions, we call a noun.

THEAETETUS: Quite true.

STRANGER: A succession of nouns only is not a sentence, any more than of

verbs without nouns.

THEAETETUS: I do not understand you.

STRANGER: I see that when you gave your assent you had something else

in your mind. But what I intended to say was, that a mere succession of

nouns or of verbs is not discourse.

THEAETETUS: What do you mean?

STRANGER: I mean that words like 'walks,' 'runs,' 'sleeps,' or any other

words which denote action, however many of them you string together, do

not make discourse.

THEAETETUS: How can they?

STRANGER: Or, again, when you say 'lion,' 'stag,' 'horse,' or any

other words which denote agents--neither in this way of stringing words

together do you attain to discourse; for there is no expression of

action or inaction, or of the existence of existence or non-existence

indicated by the sounds, until verbs are mingled with nouns; then the

words fit, and the smallest combination of them forms language, and is

the simplest and least form of discourse.

THEAETETUS: Again I ask, What do you mean?

STRANGER: When any one says 'A man learns,' should you not call this the

simplest and least of sentences?

THEAETETUS: Yes.

STRANGER: Yes, for he now arrives at the point of giving an intimation

about something which is, or is becoming, or has become, or will be.

And he not only names, but he does something, by connecting verbs with

nouns; and therefore we say that he discourses, and to this connexion of

words we give the name of discourse.

THEAETETUS: True.

STRANGER: And as there are some things which fit one another, and other

things which do not fit, so there are some vocal signs which do, and

others which do not, combine and form discourse.

THEAETETUS: Quite true.

STRANGER: There is another small matter.

THEAETETUS: What is it?

STRANGER: A sentence must and cannot help having a subject.

THEAETETUS: True.

STRANGER: And must be of a certain quality.

THEAETETUS: Certainly.

STRANGER: And now let us mind what we are about.

THEAETETUS: We must do so.

STRANGER: I will repeat a sentence to you in which a thing and an action

are combined, by the help of a noun and a verb; and you shall tell me of

whom the sentence speaks.

THEAETETUS: I will, to the best of my power.

STRANGER: 'Theaetetus sits'--not a very long sentence.

THEAETETUS: Not very.

STRANGER: Of whom does the sentence speak, and who is the subject? that

is what you have to tell.

THEAETETUS: Of me; I am the subject.

Sophist · 第 10 / 12 题