into being from their fusion — Truth, from which every thingderives its name which in any way is called true? A. I yield no unwilling assent.
19. R. What then think you? Is the science of debate true, or false? A. True, beyond controversy. But Grammar too is true. R. In the same sense as the former? A. I do not see what is truer than the true. R. That assuredly which has nothing of false: in view of which a little while ago thou didst take umbrage at those things which, be it in this way or that, unless they were false, could not be true. Or do you not know, that all those fabulous and openly false things appertain to Grammar? A. I am not ignorant of that indeed; but, as I judge, it is not through Grammar that they are false, but through it, that whatever they may be, they are interpreted. Since a drama is 'a falsehood composed for utility or delight. But Grammar is a science which is the guardian and moderatrix of articulate speech: whose profession involves the necessity of collecting even all the figments of the human tongue, which have been committed to memory and letters, not making them false, but teaching and enforcing concerning these certain principles of true interpretation. R. Very just: I care not now, whether or not these things have been well defined and distinguished by thee; but this I ask, whether it is Grammar itself, or that science of debate which shows this to be so. A. I do not deny that the force and skill of definition, whereby I have now endeavored to separate these things, is to be attributed to the art of disputation.
20. R. How as to Grammar itself? if it is true, is it not so far true as it is a discipline? For the name of Discipline signifies something to be learnt: but no one who has learned and who retains what he learns, can be said not to know; and no one knows falsities. Therefore every discipline and science is true. A I see not what rashness there can l)e in assenting to this brief course of reasoning. But I am disturbed lest it should bring any one to suppose those dramas to be true; for these also we learn and retain. R. ^^'as then our master unwilling that we should believe what he taugiit, and know it?,-/. Nay, he was thoroughly in earnest that we should know it. R. And did he, pray, ever set out to have us believe that D;vdalns flew? A. That, indeed, never. But assuredly unless we rememl)ered the poem, he took such order that we were scarcely able to hold anything in our hands. A'. Do you then deny it to be true tliat there is such a jiocin, and that such a tradition is spread abroad coiu;erning D;edalus? A. I do not deny this to be true. R. \on do not then deny that you learned the [Book II.
truth, when you learned these things. For if it is true that Dcedalus flew, and boys should receive and recite this as a feigning fable, they would be laying up falsities in mind by the very fact that the things were true which they recited. For from this results what we were admiring above, that there could not be a true fiction turning on the flight of Daedalus, unless it were false that Daedalus flew. A. I now grasp that; but what good is to come of it, I do not yet see. Ji. What, unless that that course of reasoning is not false, whereby we gather that a science, unless it is true, cannot be a science? A. And what does this signify? Ji. Because I wish to have you tell me on what the science of Grammar rests: for the truth of the science rests on that' very principle which makes it a science. A. I know not what to answer thee. Ji. Does it not seem to you, that if nothing in it had been defined, and nothing distributed and distinguished into classes and parts, it could not in any wise be a true science? A. Now I grasp thy meaning: nor does the remembrance of any science whatever occur to me, in which definitions and divisions and processes of reasoning do not, inasmuch as it is declared what each thing is, as without confusion of parts its proper attributes are ascribed to each class, nothing peculiar to it being neglected, nothing alien to it admitted, perform that whole range of functions from which it has the name of Science. R. That whole range of functions therefore from which it has the name of true. A. I see this to be implied.
21. Ji. Tell me now what science contains the principles of definitions, divisions and partitions. A. It has been said above that these are contained in the rules of disputation. Ji. Grammar therefore, both as a science, and as a true science, has been created by the same art which has above been defended from the charge of falsity. Which conclusion I am not required to confine to Grammar alone, but am permitted to extend to all sciences whatever. For you have said, and truly said, that no science occurs to you, in which the law of defining and distributing does not lie at the very foundation of its character as a science. But if they are true on that ground on which they are sciences, will any one deny that very thing to be truth through which all the sciences are true? A. Assuredly I find it hard to withhold assent: but this gives me pause, that we reckon among the sciences even that theory of disputation. Wherefore I judge that rather to be truth, whereby this theory itself is true. H. Your watchful accuracy is indeed most highly to be commended: but you do not deny, I suppose, that it is true on the same ground on which it is a theory and science. A. Nay, that is my very ground of perplexity. For I have noted that it also is a science, and is on this account called true. Jl. What then? Do you think this could be a science on any other ground than that all things in it were defined and distributed? A. I have nothing else to say. Ji. But if this function appertains to it, it is in and of itself a true science. Why then should any one find it wonderful, if that truth whereby all things are true, should be through itself and in itself true? A. Nothing stands now in the way of my giving an unreserved assent to that opinion.
2 2. i?. Attend therefore to the few things that remain. A. Bring forth whatever thou hast, if only it be such as I can understand, and I will willingly agree. R. We do not forget, that to say that anything is in anything, is capable of a double sense. It may mean that it is so in such a sense as that it can also be disjoined and be elsewhere, as this wood in this place, or the sun in the East. Or it may mean anything is so in a subject, that it cannot be separated from it, as in this wood the shape and visible appearance, as in the sun the light, as in fire heat, as in the mind discipline, and such like. Or seems it otherwise to thee.? A. These distinctions are indeed most thoroughly familiar to us, and from early youth most studiously made an element of thought; wherefore, if asked about these, I must needs grant the position at once. [r. But do you not concede that if the subject do not abide, that which is in the subject cannot inseparably abide? A. This also I see necessary: for, the subject remaining, that which is in the subject may possibly not remain, as any'^^one with a little thought can perceive. Since the color of this body of mine may, by reason of health or age, suffer change, though the body has not yet perished. And this is not equally true of all things, but of those whose coexistence with the subject is not necessary to the existence of the subject. For it is not necessary that this wall, in order to be a wall, should be of this color, which we see in it; for even if, by some chance, it should become black or white, or should undergo some other change of color, it would nevertheless remain a wall and be so called. But if fire were without heat, it will not even be fire; nor can we talk of snow except as being white.
23. But as to thy question, who would grant, or to whom could it appear possible, that that which is in the subject should remain, Book II.]
DDO while the subject perished? For it is monstrous and most utterly foreign to the truth, that vvhat would not be unless it were in the subject, could be even when the subject itself was no more. R. Then that which we were seeking is found. A. What dost thou mean? Ji. What you hear. A. And is it then now clearly made out that the mind is immortal? i?. If these things which you have granted are true, with most indisputable clearness: unless perchance you would say that the mind, even though it die, is still the mind. A. I, at least, will never say that; but by this very fact that it perishes it then comes about that it is not the mind, is what I do say. Nor am I shaken in this opinion because it has been said by great philosophers that that thing which, wherever it comes, affords life, cannot admit death into itself. For although the light wheresoever it has been able to gain entrance, makes that place luminous, and, by virtue of that memorable force of contrarieties, cannot admit darkness into itself; yet it is extinguished, and that place is by its extinction made dark. So that which resisted the darkness, neither in any way admitted the darkness into it, and yet made place for it by perishing, as it could have made place for it by departing. Therefore I fear lest death should befall the body in such wise as darkness a place, the mind, like light, sometimes departing, but sometimes being extinguished on the spot; so that now not concerning every death of the body is there security, but a particular kind of death is to be chosen, by which the soul may be conducted out of the body unharmed, and guided to a place, if there is any such place, where it cannot be extinguished. Or, if not even this may be, and the mind, as it were a light, is kindled in the body itself, nor has capacity to endure elsewhere, and every death is a sort of extinction of the soul in the body> or of the life; some sort is to be chosen by which, so far as man is allowed, life, while it is lived, may be lived in security and tranquillity, although I know not how that can come to pass if the soul dies. O greatly blessed they, who, whether from themselves, or from whom you will, have gained tlie persuasion, that death is not to be feared, even if the soul sliould perish! But, wretched me, no reasonings, no books, have hitlierto been able lo persuade of this.
24. I^. (Iroan not, the luiinan mind is immortal. A. How dost thou i^rovc it? A'. I'Vom tliose things which you have granted:il)ove, with great caution. A. I do not indeed recall to mind any want of vigilance in my admissions when questioned by thee: but now gather all into one sum. I pray thee; let us see at what point we have arrived after so many circuits, nor would I have thee in doing so question me. For if thou art about to enumerate concisely those things which I have granted, why is my response again desired? Or is it that thou wouldst wantonly torture me by delays of joy, if we have in fact achieved any solid result 1 H. \ will do that which I see that thou dost wish, but attend most diligently. A. Speak now, here lam; why slayest thou me? J^. If everything which is in the subject always abides, it follows of necessity that the subject itself always abides. And every discipline is in the subject mind. It is necessary therefore that the mind should continue forever, if the science continues forever. Now Science is Truth, and always, as in the beginning of this book Reason hath convinced thee, does Truth abide. Therefore the mind lasts forever, nor dead, could it be called the mind. He therefore alone can escape absurdity in denying the mind to be immortal, who can prove that any of the foregoing concessions have been made without reason.
25. A. And now I am ready to plunge into the expected joys, but yet I am held hesitating by two thoughts. For, first, it makes me uneasy that we have used so long a circuit, following out I know not what chain of reasonings, when the whole matter of discourse admitted of so brief a demonstration, as has now been shown. Wherefore, it renders me anxious that the discourse has so long held so wary a step, as if with some design of setting an aml)ush. Next, I do not see how a science is always in the mintl, when, on the one hand, so few are familiar with it, and, on the other, whoever does know it, was during so long a time of early childhood unacquainted with it. For we can neither say that the minds of the untaught are not minds, nor tliat tiiat science is in their mind of which they are ignorant. And if this is utterly absurd, it results that either the science is not always in the mind, or that tliat science is not Truth.
26. R. T!.(ni mayest note that it is not for naught that our reasoning has taken so wide a round. For we were inquiring wiiat is 'i'ruth, which not even now, in this very forest of thoughts and tilings, beguiling our steps into nn infinity of jiatiis, have we, as I see, been able to track out to tlie end. But what are we to do? Shall we desist from t)ur imdertaking, and wait in hope tliat some l)ook or otlier may fall into our hands, which may satisfy tills question? For many, I think, have written before our age, whom we [Book II.
have not read: and now, to give no guess at what we do not know, we see plainly that there is much writing upon this theme, both in verse and prose; and that by men whose writings cannot be unknown to us, and whose genius we know to be such, that we cannot despair of finding in their works what we require: especially when here before our eyes is he in whom we have recognized that eloquence for which we mourned as dead, to have revived in vigorous life. Will he suffer us, after having in his writings taught us the true manner of living, to remain ignorant of the true nature of living? A. I indeed do not think so, and hope much from thence, but one matter of grief I have, that we have not opportunity of opening to him our zealous affection either towards him or towards Wisdom. For assuredly he would pity oiir thirst, and would overflow much more quickly than now. For he is secure, because he has now won a full conviction of the im.mortality of the soul, and perhaps knows not that there are any, who have only too well experienced the misery of this ignorance, and whom it is cruel not to aid, especially when they entreat it. But that other knows indeed from old familiarity our ardor of longing; but he is so far removed, and we are so circurhstanced, that we have scarcely the opportunity of so much as sending a letter to him. Whom I believe to have lately in Transalpine retirement composed a spell, under whose ban the fear of death is compelled to flee, and the cold stupor of the soul,, indurate with lasting ice, is expelled. But in the meantime, while these helps are leisurely making their way hither, a benefit which it is not in our power to command, is it not most unworthy that our leisure should be wasting, and our very mind hang wholly dependent on the uncertain decision of another's will?
27. What shall we say to this, that we have entreated God and do entreat, that He will show us a way, not to riches, not to bodily pleasures, not to popular honors and seats of state, but to the knowledge of our own soul, and that He will likewise disclose Himself to them that seek Him? Will He, indeed, forsake us, or shall He be forsaken by us? J?. Most utterly foreign to Him is it indeed, that He should desert them who desire such things: whence also it ought to be strange to our thoughts that we should desert so great a Guide. Wherefore, if you will, let us briefly go over the considerations from which either proposition results, either that Truth always abides, or that Truth is the theory of argumentation. For you have said that these points wavered in your mind, so as to make us less secure of the final conclusion of the whole matter. Or shall we rather inquire this, how a science can be in an untrained mind, which yet we cannot deny to be a mind? For this seemed to give you uneasiness, so as to involve you again in doubt as to your previous concessions. J. Nay, let us first discuss the two former propositions, and then we will consider the nature of this latter fact. For so, as I judge, no controversy will remain, i?. So be it, but attend with the utmost heed and caution. For I know what happens to you as you listen, namely, that while you are too intent upon the conclusion, and expecting that now, or now, it will be drawn, you grant the points implied in my questions without a sufficiently diligent scrutiny. A. Perchance thou speakest the truth; but I shall strive against this kind of disease as much as 1 can: only begin thou now to inquire of me, that we linger not over things superfluous.
28. Ji. From this truth, as I remember, that Truth cannot perish, we have concluded, that not only if the whole world should perish, but even if Truth itself should, it will still be true that both the world and Truth have perished. Now there is nothing true without truth: in nowise therefore does Truth perish. A. I acknowledge all this, and shall be greatly surprised if it turns out false. J^. Let us then consider that other point. A. Suffer me, I pray thee, to reflect a little, lest I should soon come back in confusion, i?. Will it therefore not be true that Truth has perished? If it will not be true, then Truth does not perish. If it were true, where, after the fall of Truth, will be the true, when now there is no truth? A. 1 have no further occasion for thought and consideration; proceed to something else. Assuredly we will/ take order, so far as we may, that learned"^ and wise men may read these musings, and may correct our unadvisedness, if they shall find any: for as to myself, I do not believe that either now or hereafter I shall be able to discover what can be said against this.
29. J?. Is Truth then so called for any other reason than as being that by which everything is true which is true? A. For no other reason. J?. Is it rightly called true for any ground than that it is not false? A. To doubt this were madness, i?. Is that not false which is accommodated to the similitude of anything, yet is not that the likeness of which it appears? A. Nothing indeed do I see which I would more willingly call false. But yet that is commonly called false, which is far removed from the similitude of the true. J?. Who denies it? But yet because Book II.]
it implies some imitation of the true. A. How? For when it is said, that Medea flew away with winged snakes harnessed to her car, that thing on no side imitates truth; inasmuch as the thing is naught, nor can that thing imitate aught, when itself is absolutely nothing. R. You say right; but you do not note that that thing which is absolutely nothing, cannot even be called false. For if it is false, it is: if it is not, it is not false. A. Shall we not then say that monstrous story of Medea is false? R. Assuredly not; for if it is false, how is it a monstrous story? A. Admirable! Then when I say " The mighty winged snakes I fasten to my car," do I not say false? R. You do, assuredly: for that is which you say to be false. A. What, I pray? R. That sentence, forsooth, which is contained in the verse itself. A. And pray what imitation of truth has that? R. Because it would bear the same tenor, even if Medea had truly done that thing. Therefore in its very terms a false sentence imitates true sentences. Which, if it is not believed, in this alone does it imitate true ones, that it is expressed as they, and it is only false, it is not also misleading. But if it obtains faith, it imitates also those sentences which, being true, are believed true. A. Now I perceive that there is a great difference between those things which we say and those things concerning which we say aught; wherefore I now assent: for this proposition alone held me back, that whatever we call false is not rightly so called, unless it have an imitation of something true. For who, calling a stone false silver, would not be justly derided? Yet if any one should declare a stone to be silver, we say that he speaks falsely, that is, that he utters a false sentence. But it is not, I think, unreasonable that we should call tin or lead false silver, because the thing itself, as it were, imitates that: nor is our sentence declaring tliis therefore false, but that very thing concerning which it is pronounced. 30. R. You apprehend the matter well. But consider this, whether we can also with propriety call silver by the name of false lead.
A. Not in my opinion. R. Why so' A. I know not; except that I see that it would be altogether against my will to have it so called. R. Is it percnance for the reason that silver is the better, and such a name would be contemptuous of it; but it confers a certain honor, as it were, on lead, if it should be called false silver?.-/. Thou hast expressetl exactly what I had in mind. And therefore I believe that it is with good right that those are held infamous and incapable of bearing witness, who flaunt themselves in female attire, whom I know not whether I should more reasonably call false women, or false men. True actors, however, and truly infamous, without doubt we can call them; or, if they lurk unseen, and if infamy implies an evil repute, we may call them not without truth, true specimens of worthlessness. R. We shall have another opportunity of discussing these things: for many tilings are done, which in the mere guise of them appear base, yet, done for some praiseworthy end, are shown to be honorable. And it is a great question whether one, for the sake of liberating his country, ought to put on a woman's garment to deceive the enemy, being, perhaps, by ti;e very fact that he is a false woman, apt to be shown the truer man: and whether a wise man who in some way may have certainly ascertained that his life will be necessary 10 the interests of rrankind, ought to choose rather to die of cold, than to indue himself in female vestments, if he can find no other. But concerning this, as has been said, we will consider hereafter. For unquestionably thou discernest how careful an inquisition it requires, how far such things can be carried, without falling into various inexcusable basenesses. But now — which sufifices for the present question — I think it is now evident, and beyond doulit, that there is not anything false except by some imitation of the true.
31. A. Go on to what remains; for of this I am well convinced. R. Then I ask this, whether, besides the sciences in which we are instructed, and in which it is fitting that the study of wisdom itself should be included, we can And anything so true, that it is not, like that Achilles of the stage, false on one side, that it may be true on another? A. To me, indeed, many such things apjiear capable of being found. For no sciences contain this stone, nor yet, that it may be a true stone, does it imitate anything according to which it would be called false. Which one thing being mentioned, thou seest there is opportunity to dwell upon things innumerable, which of themselves occur to tiie thought. R. I see, I see. But do they not seem to thee to be included in the one name of Body? A- They might so seem, if either I had ascertained the inane to be nothing, or thought that the mind itself ought to be numbered among boilies, or believed that (iod also is a body. If all these things are, I see tlieni not to be false and true in imitation of anything. A*. NOu send US a long journey, but I will use all compendious sjjeed. For certainly what you call tlie Inane is one thing, wliat you call Trutii another..1. Widely diverse, indeed. For LBOOK 11, LBOOK 11, what more inane than I, if I think Truth anything inane, or so greatly seelc after aught inane? For what else than Truth do I desire to find? i?. Therefore perchance you grant this too, that nothing is true which does not by Truth come to be true. A. This became manifest at an early stage. J^. Do you doubt that nothing is inane except the Inane itself, or certainly that a body is not inane? A. 1 do not doubt it at all. J?. I suppose therefore, you believe that Truth is some sort of body. A. In no wise. J^. What is a body? A. I know not; no matter: for I think thou knowest that even that inane, if it is inane, is more completely so where there is no body. J?. This assuredly is plain. A. Why then do we delay? J?. Does it then seem to thee either that Truth made the inane, or that there is anything true where Truth is not? A. Neither seems true. i?. The inane therefore is not true, because neither could it become inane by that which is not inane: and it is manifest that what is void of truth is not true; and, in fine, that very thing which is called inane, is so called because it is nothing. How therefore can that be true which is not.'' or how can that be which is absolutely nothing? A. Well then, let us desert the inane as being inane.
32. J?. What sayest thou concerning the rest? A. What? i?. Because you see how much stands on my side. For we have remaining the Soul and God. And if these two are true for the reason that Truth is in them, of the immortality of, God no one doubts. But the mind is believed immortal, if Truth, which cannot perish, is proved to be in it. Wherefore let us consider this last point, whether the body be not truly true, that is, whether there be in it, not Truth, but a certain image of Truth. For if even in the body, which we know to be perishable, we find such an element of truth, as ttiere is in the sciences, it does not then so certamly follow, that the art of discussion is Truth, whereby all sciences are true. For true is even the body, which does not seem to have been formed by the force of argument. But if even the body is true by a certain imitation, and is on this account, not absolutely and purely true, there will then, perchance, be nothing to hinder the theory of argument from being taught to be Truth itself. A Meanwhile let us inquire concerning the body; for not even when this shall have been settled, do I see a prospect of ending this controversy. _R. Whence knowest thou what God purposes? Tlierefore attend: for I at least think the body to be contained in a certain form and guise, which if it had not, it would not be the body; if it had it in truth, it would be the mind. Or does the fact stand otherwise? ^. I assent in part, of the rest I doubt; for, unless some figure is maintained, I grant that it is not a body. But how, if it had it in truth, it would be the mind, I do not well understand. _R. Do you then remember nothing concerning the exordium of this book, and that Geometry of yours? A. Thou hast mentioned it to purpose; I do indeed remember, and am most willing to do so. i?. Are such figures found in bodies, as that science demonstrates? A. Nay, it is incredible how greatly inferior they are convicted of being. J^. Which of them, therefore, do you think true? A. Do not, I beg, think it necessary even to put that question to me. For who is so dull, as not to see that those figures which are taught in Geometry, dwell in Truth itself, or even Truth in these; but that those embodied figures, inasmuch as, they seem, so to speak, to tend towards these, have I know not what imitation of truth, and are therefore false? For now that whole matter which thou wert laboring to show, I understand.