SigPhi · Plato

The works of Plato (Vol. 1 of 6) A new and literal version chiefly from the text

Page 28 of 32

_Socr._ We must speak thus on this subject, defining it from the beginning: It is impossible that he who knows any thing, and has a remembrance of it in his soul, but does not actually perceive it, can think that it is some other thing that he knows, of which he has the impression, though he does not perceive it: and again, it is impossible that any one can think that what he knows is that which he does not know, and of which he has not the seal: or that what he does not know is that which he does not know: or that what he does not know is that which he does know: or think that what he perceives is some other thing that he perceives: or that what he perceives is something that he does not perceive: or that what he does not perceive is some other thing that he does not perceive: or that what he does not perceive is something that he does perceive. And again it is still more impossible, if that can be, that a person should think that what he knows and perceives, and of which he has an impression by means of perception, is something else that he knows and perceives, and of which in like manner he has an impression by means of perception. And it is impossible that what he knows and perceives, and of which he has a correct remembrance, he can think is something else that he knows: or that what he knows and perceives, and in like manner retains in his remembrance, is something else that he perceives: or again, that what he neither knows nor perceives is something else that he neither knows nor perceives: or that what he neither knows nor perceives is something else that he does not know; or that what he neither knows nor perceives is something else that he does not perceive. In all these cases it is utterly impossible for any one to judge falsely. It remains, therefore, that it must take place, if anywhere, in the following cases.

120. _Theæ._ In what cases? perhaps I shall understand you better from them; for at present I do not follow you.

_Socr._ In things which a person knows, he may think that they are different from the things that he knows and perceives; or from those which he does not know, but perceives; or that the things which he knows and perceives are some of the things which he likewise knows and perceives.

_Theæ._ Now I am left much further behind than I was.

_Socr._ Listen again, then, as follows: I, knowing Theodorus, and remembering within myself what kind of a person he is, and in like manner, Theætetus, do I not sometimes see them, and sometimes not, and sometimes touch them, and sometimes not, and hear or perceive them by some other sense, but sometimes have I no perception of you at all, yet nevertheless do I remember you, and know you within myself?

_Theæ._ Certainly.

_Socr._ Understand this, then, the first of the things that I wish to prove, that it is possible for a man not to perceive what he knows, and that it is possible for him to perceive it.

_Theæ._ True.

_Socr._ And does it not often happen that a man does not perceive what he does not know, and often that he perceives it only?

_Theæ._ This also is true.

121. Consider then, whether you can now follow me better. Socrates knows Theodorus and Theætetus, but he sees neither of them, nor has he any other perception respecting them, now he can never form this judgment within himself, that Theætetus is Theodorus? Do I say any thing to the purpose or not?

_Theæ._ Yes, quite true.

_Socr._ This then was the first of the cases that I mentioned.

_Theæ._ It was.

_Socr._ But the second was this, that I knowing one of you, but not knowing the other, and perceiving neither, should never think that he whom I know is the person whom I do not know.

_Theæ._ Right.

_Socr._ The third was this, that I neither knowing nor perceiving either of them, should not think that he whom I do not know is some other person of those whom I do not know: and consider that you again hear in succession all the instances before put, in which I shall never form a false judgment respecting you and Theodorus, neither while knowing nor ignorant of you both, nor while knowing one, and not the other; and in the same way with regard to perceptions, if you follow me.

_Theæ._ I do follow you.

122. _Socr._ It remains, therefore, that I may form a false judgment in this case, when knowing you and Theodorus, and having the impression of both of you in that waxen tablet made by a seal ring as it were, seeing you both from a distance and not sufficiently distinguishing you, I endeavour, by attributing the peculiar impression of each to his peculiar aspect, applying it so as to adapt it to its own form in order that I may recognise it, then failing in this, and changing them like those that put their shoes on the wrong feet, I fit the aspect of each to the impression of the other, as happens in looking into mirrors, where the sight passes from the right to the left, so I fall into the same error; then mistaken opinion and false judgment take place.

_Theæ._ What happens with regard to judgment, Socrates, seems wonderfully like what you describe.

_Socr._ Still further, when, knowing both of you, in addition to knowing I perceive one, but not the other, I have a knowledge of the other not according to perception, which I thus described before, but you did not then understand me.

_Theæ._ I did not.

123. _Socr._ I said this however, that a person who knows and perceives one and has a knowledge of him according to perception, will never think that he is some other person whom he knows and perceives, and of whom he has a knowledge according to perception. Was not this what I said?

_Theæ._ Yes.

_Socr._ There remained then the case that was just now mentioned, in which we said that false judgment takes place, when a person knowing you both and seeing you both, or having some other perception of you both, has not the impression of each according to the perception of each, but, like an unskilful archer, shoots beside the mark and misses, this then is called a falsehood.

_Theæ._ And very properly so.

_Socr._ When, therefore, perception is present to one of the impressions, and not to the other, and the one applies the impression of the absent perception to that which is present, in this case the mind is altogether deceived: and, in a word, with respect to things that a person has neither known nor ever perceived, it is not possible, as it seems, either to be deceived, or to form a false judgment, if there is any soundness in what we now say: but with respect to things that we know and perceive, in these very things judgment is conversant and turns round, becoming both false and true, by collecting together in a direct and straight line the copies and marks proper to each, it is true, but sideways and obliquely, false.

124. _Theæ._ Is it not well described, Socrates?

_Socr._ You will say so still more, when you hear what follows. For to judge truly is beautiful, but to be deceived is base.

_Theæ._ How not?

_Socr._ They say, then, that these things proceed from hence. When the wax in any one’s soul is deep, abundant, smooth, and properly moulded, objects entering by means of the perceptions and impressing themselves on this heart[163] of the soul, as Homer calls it, obscurely intimating its resemblance to wax, then pure and sufficiently deep impressions being made in these, become lasting, and such men are first of all easily taught, next have retentive memories, and lastly do not change the impressions of the perceptions, but form true judgments; for, as these impressions are clear, and in a wide space, they quickly distribute to their proper images each of the things that are called beings; and such men are called wise. Does it not appear so to you?

----- Footnote 163: A play on the words κέαρ or κῆρ and κήρος, which cannot be retained in an English version.

----- _Theæ._ Entirely so.

125. _Socr._ When, therefore, any one’s heart is covered with hair, which the very wise poet has celebrated, or when it is muddy, and not of pure wax, or very soft, or hard, those in whom it is soft are easily taught, but are forgetful, and those in when it is hard, the contrary; but those who have it hairy and rough, and stony or full of earth or mixed mud, have indistinct impressions; they are also indistinct in those that are hard, for there is no depth in them; they are likewise indistinct in those that are soft, for by being confused they soon become obscure; but if, in addition to all this, they fall one upon another by reason of narrowness of space, if any one’s soul is little, they are still more indistinct than the others. All these, therefore, are such as form false judgments. For when they see, or hear, or think about any thing, not being able at once to attribute each object to its impression, they are slow, and attributing different objects to different impressions, they for the most part see wrongly, and hear wrongly, and think wrongly; and these are said to be deceived in objects and ignorant.

_Theæ._ You speak as correctly as man can do, Socrates.

126. _Socr._ Shall we say, then, that there are false judgments in us?

_Theæ._ By all means.

_Socr._ And true judgments also?

_Theæ._ And true.

_Socr._ Do we, then, consider it to have been sufficiently established that these two judgments do without doubt exist?

_Theæ._ Most assuredly.

_Socr._ A talkative man, Theætetus, appears to be really troublesome and disagreeable.

_Theæ._ How so? Why do you say this?

_Socr._ Because I am angry at my own ignorance, and, in truth, talkativeness. For what other name can any one give it when a man drags the conversation upwards and downwards, and cannot be persuaded through his dulness, and is with difficulty torn from each several topic?

_Theæ._ But why are you angry?

_Socr._ I am not only angry, but I am afraid that I should not know what to answer, if any one should ask me, “Socrates, have you found that false judgment is neither in the perceptions compared with each other, nor in the thoughts, but in the conjunction of perception with thought?”

I think I shall say, I have, priding myself as if we had made a very fine discovery.

127. _Theæ._ What has just now been proved appears to me, Socrates, to be by no means despicable.

_Socr._ Do you therefore assert, he will say, that we can never suppose that a man whom we think of only, but do not see, is a horse, which we neither see nor touch, but think of only, and do not perceive in any other way? I believe I should say, that I do assert this.

_Theæ._ And rightly.

_Socr._ What then? he will say, according to this mode of reasoning, can the number eleven, which one thinks of only, ever be supposed to be twelve, which also one thinks of only? Come then, do you answer?

_Theæ._ I should answer, that a person seeing or touching might suppose that eleven are twelve, but that he would never think thus respecting numbers which he embraces only in thought.

_Socr._ What then? do you suppose that any one has ever proposed to consider within himself of five and seven, I do not mean seven and five men, or any thing else of the kind, but the numbers five and seven themselves, which we said were in his soul like impressions in wax, and that it is impossible to judge falsely respecting them,—has any man at any time considered these very things, speaking to himself and asking how many they are, and answered, one that he supposes they are eleven, and another that they are twelve, or do all men say and suppose that they are twelve?

128. _Theæ._ No, by Jupiter, but many suppose that they are eleven. And if a person considers about a greater number, he is still more mistaken; for I suppose that you rather speak about every number.

_Socr._ You suppose rightly, but consider whether any thing else ever happens than this, that he supposes that the number twelve impressed in his soul is eleven?

_Theæ._ It seems so.

_Socr._ Does it not then come back to our former statements? For he who is in this condition supposes that what he knows is something else that he also knows, which we said was impossible, and from which very circumstance we demonstrated that there is no such thing as false judgment, in order that the same person might not be compelled to know and not to know the same thing at the same time.

_Theæ._ Most true.

_Socr._ Therefore we must show that false judgment is something else than an interchange of mind with perception. For, if this were so, we could never be deceived in the thoughts themselves: but now there is either no such thing as false judgment, or it is possible for a person not to know what he knows: and which of these two do you choose?

_Theæ._ You offer me a difficult choice, Socrates.

_Socr._ Our argument however appears as if it would not allow both these to take place: though (for we must venture on every thing), what if we should determine to lay aside all shame?

_Theæ._ How?

_Socr._ By taking upon ourselves to declare what it is to know.

_Theæ._ But why would this be shameless?

129. _Socr._ You do not seem to consider that the whole of our discussion from the beginning has been an investigation respecting science, as if we did not know what it is.

_Theæ._ I do consider it.

_Socr._ Does it not, then, appear to be a shameless thing, to explain what it is to know, when we are ignorant of what science is? But, Theætetus, our conversation has been all along full of defects. For we have over and over again used the expressions, We know, and We do not know, We have a scientific knowledge, and We have not a scientific knowledge, as if we both of us understood something about it, whereas we are still ignorant of what science is. But if you please, we will still at the present moment use the terms, to be ignorant, and to understand, as if we could properly use them, though we are destitute of science.

_Theæ._ But how will you converse, Socrates, if you abstain from the use of these expressions?

_Socr._ Not at all, while I am what I am. If however I were contentious, or if a person of that kind were now present, he would say that I must abstain from them, and would strongly object to what I say. But as we are poor creatures, do you wish I should venture to say what it is to know? For it appears to me that it would be worth while to do so.

_Theæ._ Venture then, by Jupiter; for you will be readily pardoned for not abstaining from these expressions.

130. _Socr._ Have you heard, then, what they now say it is to know?

_Theæ._ Perhaps so; but at present I do not remember.

_Socr._ They say, I believe, that it is to have science.

_Theæ._ True.

_Socr._ Let us, then, change it a little, and say that it is to possess science.

_Theæ._ But in what will you say this differs from that?

_Socr._ Perhaps in nothing: but whether it seems to differ or not, listen and examine with me.

_Theæ._ I will, if I am able.

_Socr._ To possess, therefore, does not appear to me to be the same as to have: for instance, if any one having bought a garment, and having it in his power, should not wear it, we should not say that he has it, but that he possesses it.

_Theæ._ And very properly.

_Socr._ See then whether it is possible thus to possess science without having it: just as if any one having caught some wild birds, as doves or any others, and having constructed a dove-cote at home, should feed them; we should probably say that in some respects he always has them, because he possesses them: should we not?

_Theæ._ Yes.

_Socr._ But in another respect we should say that he has none of them, but that he has acquired a power over them, since he has brought them under his control, in an enclosure of his own, so as to take and have them when he pleases, by catching whichever he wishes, and again of letting them go: and this he is at liberty to do as often as he thinks fit.

_Theæ._ Such is the case.

131. _Socr._ Again, therefore, as in a former part of our discussion we constructed I know not what kind of waxen figment in the soul, so now let us make in each soul a kind of aviary of all sorts of birds, some being in flocks, apart from others, and others few together, and others alone, flying amongst all the rest wherever it may chance.

_Theæ._ Suppose it to be made: but what next?

_Socr._ While we are children, we must say, that this receptacle is empty, and instead of birds we must understand sciences; whatever science, then, one has become possessed of and shut up in this enclosure, one must say that he has learnt or discovered the thing of which this is the science, and that this is to know.

_Theæ._ Be it so.

_Socr._ Again, therefore, when any one wishes to catch any one of these sciences, and, when he has taken it, to have it, and again to let it go, consider what words he requires, whether the same as before, when he possessed them, or different ones. But from what follows you will more clearly understand what I mean. Do you call arithmetic an art?

_Theæ._ Yes.

132. _Socr._ Suppose this to be a catching of the sciences of every even and odd number.

_Theæ._ I do suppose it.

_Socr._ By this art, then, I think, he has the sciences of numbers under his control, and, if he pleases, transfers them to others.

_Theæ._ Yes.

_Socr._ And we say that he who transfers them teaches, and that he who receives them learns, but that having them, by possessing them in that aviary, he knows them.

_Theæ._ Certainly.

Socr. Attend now to what follows. Does not he who is a perfect arithmetician know all numbers? for the sciences of all numbers are in his soul.

_Theæ._ How not?

_Socr._ Does not then such a person sometimes calculate either something within himself, or something else that is external, that is capable of being calculated.

_Theæ._ Undoubtedly.

_Socr._ But to calculate we shall say is nothing else than to examine what is the quantity of any number.

_Theæ._ Just so.

_Socr._ What therefore he knows, he appears to examine, as if he did not know, though we admitted that he knows all number. You surely hear such questions as these.

_Theæ._ I do.

133. _Socr._ We, therefore, carrying on our comparison with the possession and catching of doves, will say that this catching is of two kinds, one before possessing for the sake of possessing, the other when one has already obtained possession, for the purpose of taking and having in the hands what was already possessed. So with respect to the things of which a person has already acquired the science by learning, and which he knew, he may learn these same things again, and recover and retain the science of each, which he formerly possessed, but had not ready in his mind.

_Theæ._ True.

_Socr._ On this account, I just now asked, what words it is proper to use in speaking of these things, when an arithmetician sets about calculating, or a grammarian reading any thing. Shall we say that knowing such a subject he again applies himself to learn from himself what he knows?

_Theæ._ This would be absurd, Socrates.

_Socr._ Shall we say, then, that he is going to read or calculate what he does not know, though we have granted him that he knows all letters and all numbers?

_Theæ._ This too would be unreasonable.

134. _Socr._ Will you, then, that we say, that we care nothing at all about words, in what way any one chooses to employ the words knowing and learning, but, since we have settled that it is one thing to possess a science, and another to have it, we maintain that it is impossible for a person not to possess what he does possess, so that it never happens that any one does not know what he knows, though it is possible for him to form a false judgment respecting it? For it is possible for him not to have the science of this particular thing, but another instead of it, when hunting after some one of the sciences that he possesses as they are flying about, he may by mistake take one instead of another; accordingly when he thinks that eleven is twelve, he takes the science of eleven instead of that of twelve, as it were taking a pigeon that he possessed instead of a dove.

_Theæ._ It is reasonable to suppose so.

_Socr._ But when he takes that which he endeavours to take, then he is not deceived, and judges truly: and thus we will say that false and true judgment subsist, and none of the things which occasioned difficulty before will any longer stand in our way. Perhaps you agree with me, or what will you do?

_Theæ._ Agree with you.

135. _Socr._ We are freed then, from the dilemma of a man’s not knowing what he knows: for it never happens that we do not possess what we do possess, whether we are deceived respecting any thing or not. However, another much worse inconvenience appears to me to present itself.

_Theæ._ What is that?

_Socr._ If the interchange of sciences can ever become false judgment.

_Theæ._ But how?

_Socr._ In the first place, that having the science of any thing one should be ignorant of that thing, not through ignorance, but through the science of the thing itself, and in the next place, that one should judge this thing to be another thing and another thing this, how is it not a great piece of absurdity, that when science is present the soul should know nothing, but be ignorant of all things? For, from this mode of reasoning, nothing hinders but that ignorance when present should make us know something, and blindness should make us see, if science will ever make a man ignorant.

_Theæ._ Perhaps, Socrates, we have done wrong in making sciences only take the place of the birds, and we ought to have supposed that various kinds of ignorance were flying about in the soul with them, and that the sportsman at one time taking science, and at another time ignorance, with respect to the same thing, judges falsely through ignorance, but truly through science.

136. _Socr._ It is not by any means easy, Theætetus, to forbear praising you: however, examine again what you have just said. For suppose it to be as you say. He who takes ignorance, will judge falsely you say; is it not so?

_Theæ._ Yes.

_Socr._ Yet surely he will not think that he judges falsely.

_Theæ._ How should he?

_Socr._ But truly, and he will fancy that he knows the things about which he is deceived.

_Theæ._ Assuredly.

_Socr._ He will therefore judge that by sporting he has taken science, and not ignorance.

_Theæ._ Clearly.

_Socr._ Having therefore made a long circuit, we have come back again to our first doubt. For that critic will laugh at us and say, “Can any one, my excellent friends, who knows both, science as well as ignorance, think that what he knows is some other thing that he knows? or, knowing neither of them, can judge that what he does not know, is some other thing that he does not know? or, knowing one, and not the other, can he suppose that what he knows is what he does not knew, or what he does not know is what he does know? Will you tell me again, that there are sciences of sciences and ignorances, which their possessor having enclosed in some other ridiculous aviaries, or waxen figments, knows as long as he possesses them, though he has them not ready in his soul? And will you be thus compelled to revolve perpetually round the same circle, without making any progress?” What answer shall we give to this, Theætetus?

137. _Theæ._ By Jupiter, Socrates, I have no notion what ought to be said.

_Socr._ Does not the argument, then, my boy, reprove us very properly, and shew that we did wrong in searching for false judgment before science, and neglecting that? But it is impossible to know this until we have sufficiently discovered what science is.

_Theæ._ It is necessary, Socrates, at present to think as you say.

_Socr._ Again therefore, what shall one say from the beginning about science? For we surely must not give it up yet.

_Theæ._ By no means, unless you refuse to persevere.

_Socr._ Tell me, then, how can we best speak concerning science so as not to contradict ourselves.

_Theæ._ As we attempted to do before, Socrates, for I know of no other plan.

_Socr._ What is that?

_Theæ._ That true judgment is science. For to judge truly is surely free from error, and whatever results from it is beautiful and good.

_Socr._ He who acted as guide in fording a river, Theætetus, said that it would shew its own depth; so if we go on in our enquiries, perhaps the impediment that we meet with will shew us what we are in search of, but if we stop nothing will be clear.

_Theæ._ You say well; let us go on then and examine it.

138. _Socr._ This then requires but a brief examination, for one whole art shews that it is not science.

_Theæ._ How so? and what art is it?

_Socr._ That which belongs to those who are most renowned for wisdom, whom they call orators and lawyers. For they, in fact, persuade, not by teaching, but by making men form such judgments as they please. Do you think that there are any teachers so clever as, when persons have not been present while others were robbed of their money, or treated with some other violence, to be able, while a little water is running, to teach those persons sufficiently of the truth of what took place?

_Theæ._ I by no means think so, but that they can persuade.

_Socr._ But do you not say that to persuade is to make a person form a judgment?

_Theæ._ How otherwise?

_Socr._ When, therefore, judges are justly persuaded about things which can only be known by seeing and in no other way, then judging these things from hearsay, do they not, when they form a true opinion, judge without science, being persuaded properly, since they decide correctly?

_Theæ._ Assuredly.

139. _Socr._ But, my friend, if true judgment and science are the same, a perfect judge could never form a correct judgment without science; but now each appears to be different from the other.

_Theæ._ I had forgotten, Socrates, what I heard some one say, but now I remember it: he said that true judgment in conjunction with reason is science, but that without reason it is out of the pale of science, and that things for which a reason cannot be given cannot be known; these were his very words; and that things for which a reason can be given are known.

_Socr_. You speak admirably well. But how do you distinguish the things that can be known from those that cannot? tell me, for perhaps you and I have heard the same thing.

_Theæ._ I know not whether I can explain it; but I could follow another person describing it, I think.

_Socr._ Hear, then, a dream for a dream. For I too seem to myself to have heard some people say, that the first elements, as it were, from which we and all other things are composed, cannot be explained by reason; for that each several element by itself can only be named, but that nothing else can be predicated of it, neither that it exists nor does not exist; for that this would be to attribute to it existence or non-existence, whereas nothing ought to be added to it, if one means to speak of the thing itself only; neither must we add to it the term the, or that, or each, or only, or this, or many others of the same kind; for these are constantly varying and are applied to all things, and are different from the things to which they are added. 140. But we ought, if it were possible, to speak of the thing itself, and, if it has a definition peculiar to itself, to speak of it without the addition of any thing else. Now, however, it is impossible for any of the first elements to be explained by a definition, for it does not admit of any thing else than being named, for it has only a name; but the things that have been composed from these, as they are complex, so their names, when connected together, constitute a definition; for a connection of names is the essence of definition. Thus the elements themselves cannot be defined or known, but only perceived, but things compounded of them can be both known and defined, and apprehended by true judgment. When, therefore, any one forms a true judgment of any thing, without explanation, his soul indeed perceives the truth respecting it, but does not know it, for he who is not able to give and receive an explanation of a thing must be ignorant of that thing, but when he adds an explanation to it then he is capable of knowing all these things, and may be perfect in science. Is it thus that you have heard the dream, or in some other way?

_Theæ._ In this way precisely.

141. _Socr._ Are you willing then that we should settle it thus, that science is true judgment in conjunction with reason?

_Theæ._ Exactly so.

_Socr._ Have we, then, Theætetus, thus on this very day discovered what of old so many sages sought for and grew old before they found it?

_Theæ._ For my part, Socrates, it appears to me that what has been now stated is well said.

_Socr._ And it is reasonable that this very thing should be the case; for what science could there be without reason and right judgment?

However one of the things that were stated displeases me.

_Theæ._ Which is that?

_Socr._ That which seems to be very forcibly said, that the elements are unknown, but that the natures of things compounded of them are known.

_Theæ._ Is not that right?

_Socr._ We must see. For we have as sureties for this doctrine the examples which he used who said all these things.

_Theæ._ What are they?

_Socr._ The elements of letters and syllables: do you think that he who said what we have mentioned had any thing else in view when he said it?

_Theæ._ No, but these.

142. _Socr._ Let us, then, apply ourselves to these and examine them, or rather ourselves, whether we learnt letters in this way, or not. First of all then do syllables admit of a definition, but are the elements undefinable?

_Theæ._ Probably.

_Socr._ It certainly appears so to me, too. If, then, any one should ask thus respecting the first syllable of the word Socrates, “Theætetus, tell me, what is _So_?” what would you answer?

_Theæ._ That it is _S_ and _o_.

_Socr._ Have you not, then, this definition of the syllable?

_Theæ._ I have.

_Socr._ Come then, in the same way give me the definition of the letter _S_.

_Theæ._ But how can any one speak of the elements of an element? For _S_, Socrates, is a consonant, only a sound, as of the tongue hissing; again the letter _B_ has neither voice nor sound, nor have most of the elements. So that it is very right to say that they are undefinable, since the most distinct among them, to the number of seven, have only a sound, but do not admit of any definition.

_Socr._ Thus far, then, my friend, we have determined rightly with respect to science.

_Theæ._ We appear to have done so.

143. _Socr._ What then? have we shewn rightly that the element cannot be known, but that the syllable can?

_Theæ._ It is probable.

_Socr._ Come then, do we say that a syllable is both the elements, and, if there are more than two, all of them, or some one form resulting from their conjunction?

_Theæ._ All, we appear to me to say.

_Socr._ Observe, then, with respect to the two letters _S_ and _o_; both of them together form the first syllable of my name, does not then he who knows this syllable know both of them?

_Theæ._ How should he not?

_Socr._ He knows, therefore, _S_ and _o_.

_Theæ._ Yes.

_Socr._ But what? is he ignorant of each of them, and knowing neither, does he know both?

_Theæ._ That would be strange and absurd, Socrates.

_Socr._ However, if it is necessary to know each, in order that he may know both, it is quite necessary for a person who is ever to know a syllable to know the elements first, and thus our former statement will escape us and be off.

_Theæ._ And very suddenly too.

_Socr._ For we did not guard it well. For, perhaps, we ought to suppose that a syllable does not consist of the elements, but of some one species resulting from them, which has a form peculiar to itself, different from the elements.

_Theæ._ Certainly; and perhaps the case is rather in this way than in the other.

144. _Socr._ We must examine it, and not so unmanfully abandon a weighty and venerable statement.

_Theæ._ We ought not, indeed.

_Socr._ Let it be then as we just now said; let the syllable be one form resulting from the several elements, connected together, as well in letters as in all other things.

_Theæ._ Just so.

_Socr._ It must, therefore, have no parts.

_Theæ._ Why not?

_Socr._ Because where there are parts, the whole must necessarily be the same as all the parts: or do you say that a whole resulting from parts is one certain species different from all the parts?

_Theæ._ I do.

_Socr._ Whether do you call all and the whole the same, or each different from the other?

_Theæ._ I cannot say any thing for certain, but since you bid me answer boldly, I venture to say that they are different.

_Socr._ Your boldness, Theætetus, is right; but whether your answer is so, must be considered.

_Theæ._ It must indeed.

_Socr._ Does not the whole, then, differ from all, according to your present statement?

_Theæ._ Yes.

145. _Socr._ But what, is there any difference between all the parts, and the all? for instance when we say one, two, three, four, five, six, or twice three, or thrice two, or four and two, or three and two and one, or five and one, whether in all these cases do we say the same thing, or that which is different?

_Theæ._ The same thing.

_Socr._ Do we say any thing else than six?

_Theæ._ Nothing.

_Socr._ And in each mode of speaking did we not mention all the parts of six?

_Theæ._ Yes.

_Socr._ Again, therefore, when we say all the parts do we say nothing?

_Theæ._ We necessarily do say something.

_Socr._ Do we say any thing else than six?

_Theæ._ Nothing.

_Socr._ In all things, then, that consist of number, do we not call the all and all the parts the same thing?

_Theæ._ It appears so.

_Socr._ Thus then let us speak of them; the number of an acre and an acre are the same; is it not so?

_Theæ._ Yes.

_Socr._ And the number of a stadium in like manner?

_Theæ._ Yes.

_Socr._ And moreover the number of an army, and an army, and in like manner with respect to all other things of the kind? For all number is all that which each of them is.

_Theæ._ Yes.

_Socr._ But is the number of each of them any thing else than its parts?

_Theæ._ Nothing.

_Socr._ Such things, then, as have parts must consist of parts?

_Theæ._ It appears so.

_Socr._ But it is admitted that all the parts are the all, since all number is the all.

_Theæ._ Just so.

_Socr._ The whole, therefore, does not consist of parts; for it would be all, if it were all the parts.

_Theæ._ It seems not.

_Socr._ But is a part a part of any thing else than a whole?

_Theæ._ Yes, of the all.

146. _Socr._ You fight manfully, Theætetus. But is not this very all, the all when nothing is wanting to it?

_Theæ._ Necessarily so.

_Socr._ And will not the whole be this very same thing when nothing is wanting to it? but when any thing is wanting, it is neither the whole, nor all, each becoming the same thing from the same cause?

_Theæ._ It appears to me now, that the whole and the all in no respect differ from each other.

_Socr._ Did we not say, that where there are parts, the whole and the all will be all the parts?

_Theæ._ Certainly.

_Socr._ Again, therefore, to return to what I just now attempted to prove, if a syllable is not the elements, does it not necessarily follow that it has not elements as parts of itself, or that, if it is the same with them, it must be equally known with them?

_Theæ._ Just so.