Chapter XX: Part 20

101. _Socr._ Though I am ashamed of examining with too much freedom Melissus and others, who say that the universe is one and immoveable, yet I am less ashamed to do so with respect to them than Parmenides alone. For Parmenides appears to me, that I may use the words of Homer[162], “both venerable and formidable.” For I was acquainted with him when I was very young and he was very old, and he appeared to me to possess a depth of wisdom altogether extraordinary. I am afraid, therefore, that we should not understand his words, and that we should be much less able to discover the meaning of what he said, and above all, I fear lest with respect to the main subject of our discussion, science, what it is, should be left unconsidered by reason of the digressions that will rush across us, if we listen to them. Besides, the question which we have now raised is of immense extent, and if one should consider it only by the way, it would be treated unworthily, but if as it deserves, the discussion, being extended to too great length, will put out of sight the subject of science. But neither of these things ought to happen; but we ought to endeavour, by the midwife’s art, to deliver Theætetus of his conceptions respecting science.

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Footnote 162:

Iliad, iii. 172.

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_Theæ._ It is proper to do so, if you think well.

102. _Socr._ Again, therefore, Theætetus, consider this with respect to what has been said. You answered that perception is science; did you not.

_Theæ._ Yes.

_Socr._ If then any one should ask you, with what a man sees things white and black, and with what he hears sounds sharp and flat, you would say, I think, with the eyes and ears.

_Theæ._ I should.

_Socr._ The free use of names and words and without excessive precision, is for the most part not unbecoming a person of education, but rather the contrary to this is illiberal, though sometimes it is necessary; as in the present case it is necessary to find fault with your answer, so far as it is not correct. For consider, which answer is more correct, that it is the eyes with which we see or by which we see, and the ears with which we hear, or by which we hear?

_Theæ._ By which we receive each perception, it seems to me, Socrates, rather than with which.

_Socr._ For surely it would be strange, my boy, if many senses were seated in us, as in wooden horses, and they did not all tend to one certain form, whether it is soul, or whatever it is proper to call it, with which, by means of these as instruments, we perceive all objects of perception.

_Theæ._ The case appears to me to be rather in this way than in that.

103. _Socr._ But why do I require so much accuracy from you on this point? For this reason, that we may discover whether by some one and the same part in us we, by means of the eyes, attain to things white and black, and again other things by means of the other senses, and whether, when questioned, you will be able to refer all such things to the bodily organs. But perhaps it will be better that you should say this by answering my questions, than that I should take all this trouble for you. Tell me, then; the things by which you perceive things hot and dry, and light and sweet, do you refer each of them to the body, or to any thing else?

_Theæ._ To nothing else.

_Socr._ Are you also willing to allow, that such things as you perceive by means of one faculty it is impossible for you to perceive by means of another, for instance, that what you perceive by means of hearing you cannot perceive by means of sight, and what you perceive by means of sight, you cannot perceive by means of hearing?

_Theæ._ How should I not be willing to allow it?

_Socr._ If, then, you form a notion of them both together, you cannot receive this perception of both together by means of one organ or the other.

_Theæ._ Surely not.

104. _Socr._ Now with respect to sound and colour, is not this the very first notion that you have of them both, that they both exist.

_Theæ._ It is.

_Socr._ Is it not also, that each is different from the other, and the same with itself?

_Theæ._ How not?

_Socr._ And that both are two, but each one?

_Theæ._ And this also.

_Socr._ Are you not also able to consider whether they are like or unlike each other?

_Theæ._ Probably.

_Socr._ By means of what, then, do you acquire all these notions about them? For it is not possible by means either of hearing or sight to apprehend that which is common between them. Moreover, this too is a proof of what we say. For, if it were possible to examine respecting them both, whether they are salt or not, you know you would be able to say with what you would make this examination, and this proves to be neither sight nor hearing, but something else.

_Theæ._ How not, and that the faculty of taste by means of the tongue?

_Socr._ You say well. But in what does the faculty consist which shews you that which is common to all things, and to these two, to which you give the name of existence and non-existence, and those other names about which we were just now asking? what organs will you attribute to all these, by means of which our perceptive faculty perceives these several things?

105. _Theæ._ You speak of existence and non-existence, similitude and dissimilitude, identity and difference, and moreover of unity and other numbers: and it is evident that you ask about the even and odd and whatever else depends on them, by which of the organs of the body we perceive these things in our soul.

_Socr._ You follow me exceedingly well, and these, Theætetus, are the very things about which I ask.

_Theæ._ But by Jupiter, Socrates, I know not what to say, except that it seems to me that there is no organ at all peculiar to these things as there is to the others, but the soul of itself appears to me to examine that which is common in all things.

_Socr._ You are beautiful, Theætetus, and not ugly, as Theodorus said; for he who speaks beautifully is beautiful and good. But, besides being beautiful, you have done well in having released me from a very long discussion, if it appears to you that the soul beholds some things by itself, and others by the faculties of the body. For this was the very thing that seemed to me, and I wished it might likewise seem so to you.

_Theæ._ And indeed it does appear so to me.

106. _Socr._ To which of the two classes, then, do you refer existence? For this especially attaches to all things.

_Theæ._ I refer it to those things which the soul of itself reaches after.

_Socr._ Is it the same with similarity and dissimilarity, identity and difference?

_Theæ._ Yes.

_Socr._ What then? with the beautiful and the ugly, good and evil?

_Theæ._ It appears to me that the soul especially considers the essence of these in reference to each other, comparing within itself things past and present with the future.

_Socr._ Stay: will it not perceive the hardness of that which is hard by the touch, and the softness of that which is soft in like manner?

_Theæ._ Yes.

_Socr._ But their essence, both what they are, and their opposition to each other, and the nature of this opposition, the soul itself, examining them repeatedly and comparing them with each other, endeavours to determine for us.

_Theæ._ Certainly.

_Socr._ Are not, then, both men and beasts by nature able to perceive as soon as they are born those things that pass by means of the bodily organs to the soul, but comparisons of these with reference to their essence and use they arrive at with difficulty, and after a long time, by means of much labour and study, if ever they do arrive at it?

_Theæ._ Most assuredly.

_Socr._ For is it possible to apprehend the truth of that of which we cannot apprehend the existence?

_Theæ._ Impossible.

107. _Socr._ But can any one possess a scientific knowledge of a thing, of which he cannot apprehend the truth?

_Theæ._ How can he, Socrates?

_Socr._ There is, therefore, no science in sensations, but in reasoning on them; for in this way, as it seems, it is possible to touch upon essence and truth, but in that way impossible.

_Theæ._ It appears so.

_Socr._ Can you, therefore, call that and this the same, when there is so great a difference between them?

_Theæ._ It would not be right to do so.

_Socr._ What name, then, do you give to that, to sight, hearing, smelling, tasting, being hot, and being cold?

_Theæ._ Perceiving; for what other name can be given?

_Socr._ Do you, therefore, call the whole of this perception?

_Theæ._ Necessarily so.

_Socr._ To which, as we said, it does not appertain to touch upon truth, for it does not ever touch upon essence.

_Theæ._ Certainly not.

_Socr._ Nor, therefore, upon science?

_Theæ._ No.

_Socr._ Perception, therefore, and science, Theætetus, can never be the same?

_Theæ._ It appears not, Socrates.

108. _Socr._ And now it has been made perfectly clear that science is something different from perception. But we did not commence this conversation with this view, that we might find out what science is not, but what it is. However, we have advanced so far as not to seek it at all in perception, but in that name, whatever it is, which the soul possesses when it employs itself about things that exist.

_Theæ._ But this, I think, Socrates, is called, to judge.

_Socr._ You think rightly, my friend. And now consider again from the beginning, having obliterated all that has been said before, if you see at all more clearly, now that you have come to this point. And tell me again what science is.

_Theæ._ It is impossible, Socrates, to say that it is every judgment, because there is also false judgment. But it appears that true judgment is science, and let this be my answer. For if, as we proceed, it shall not appear to be so, as it does at present, we will endeavour to say something else.

109. _Socr._ Thus, then, Theætetus, you must speak more promptly, and not, as at first, hesitate to answer. For if we do so, one of two things will happen; we shall either find that which we are in search of, or we shall in a less degree think that we know what we do not know at all; though this would be no despicable reward. Now, then, what do you say? Since there are two species of judgment, one true, and the other false, do you define science to be true judgment?

_Theæ._ I do; for this at present appears to me to be the case.

_Socr._ Is it, then, worth while again to resume the discussion respecting judgment?

_Theæ._ What do you mean?

_Socr._ Somehow this matter troubles me just now, and has often done so at other times, so that I have had great doubt with respect to myself and others, from not being able to say what this affection in us is, and in what way it is produced.

_Theæ._ What affection?

_Socr._ This, that any one forms false judgments; and I even now still consider and am in doubt whether we shall let this alone, or examine it in a different manner than we did just now.

_Theæ._ How not, Socrates? at least if it appears necessary to be done in some way or other? For you and Theodorus just now remarked, not badly, respecting leisure, that there is no urgency in matters of this kind.

110. _Socr._ You have reminded me very properly. For perhaps it will not be foreign to our purpose in a manner to retrace our steps. For it is better to finish a little well than much insufficiently.

_Theæ._ Why not?

_Socr._ How then? what do we say? do we not affirm that sometimes judgments are false? or that one of us forms false judgments and another true ones, as if this was naturally the case?

_Theæ._ We doubtless do affirm this.

_Socr._ Does not this happen to us with regard to things in general and each particular, that we either know it or do not know it? For learning and forgetting, as being between these, I pass by for the present, for now they have nothing to do with our discussion.

_Theæ._ However, Socrates, there is no other alternative with respect to each particular, except knowing or not knowing it.

_Socr._ Then, is it not necessary, that he who judges should judge either what he does know, or does not know?

_Theæ._ It is necessary.

_Socr._ But that a person who knows should not know the same thing, or that he who does not know it should know it, is impossible.

_Theæ._ How not?

_Socr._ Does not he, then, who forms a false judgment about what he knows, think that these are not the same, but different from what he knows, and thus while he knows both, he is at the same time ignorant of both?

_Theæ._ But this is impossible, Socrates.

111. _Socr._ Does he, then, think that things which he does not know are certain other things that he does not know, and is it possible for one who knows neither Theætetus nor Socrates, to imagine that Socrates is Theætetus, or Theætetus Socrates?

_Theæ._ How could that be?

_Socr._ Neither, surely, does any one think that the things which he knows are the same as those that he does not know, nor again that the things which he does not know, are the same as those that he does know.

_Theæ._ For that would be monstrous.

_Socr._ How then can any one form false judgments? For it is impossible to form judgments in any other way than this, since we either know or do not know all things, and in these it appears to be by no means possible to form false judgments.

_Theæ._ Most true.

_Socr._ Ought we, then, to consider the object of our enquiry, not by proceeding according to knowing and not knowing, but according to being and not being?

_Theæ._ How do you mean?

_Socr._ Whether it is not universally true, that he who thinks things that are not, with respect to any thing whatever, must unavoidably form a false judgment, however intelligent he may be in other respects.

_Theæ._ That is reasonable, Socrates.

_Socr._ How then? what shall we say, Theætetus, if any one should ask us, “Is it possible for any one to do what you say, and can any man think that which is not, whether respecting any real object or abstract essence?” And we, it seems, shall say to this, “When he who thinks does not think what is true.” What else can we say?

_Theæ._ Nothing else.

112. _Socr._ Does a thing of this kind happen also in other cases?

_Theæ._ Of what kind?

_Socr._ If a person sees something, and yet sees nothing.

_Theæ._ But how can that be?

_Socr._ But if he sees some one thing, he sees something that exists; and do you think that one thing is ever among things that do not exist?

_Theæ._ I do not.

_Socr._ He, therefore, who sees some one thing sees that which exists.

_Theæ._ It appears so.

_Socr._ And, therefore, he who hears something, both hears some one thing, and hears that which exists.

_Theæ._ Yes.

_Socr._ And doubtless he who touches both touches some one thing, and that which exists, since it is one thing?

_Theæ._ And this too.

_Socr._ Does not he then who judges, judge some one thing?

_Theæ._ Of necessity.

_Socr._ And does not he who judges some one thing, judge something that exists?

_Theæ._ I grant it.

_Socr._ He therefore who judges what does not exist, judges nothing.

_Theæ._ It appears not.

_Socr._ But he who judges nothing, does not judge at all.

_Theæ._ That is evident, as it seems.

_Socr._ It is impossible, therefore, to judge that which is not, either with respect to real objects or abstract essences.

_Theæ._ It appears not.

_Socr._ To form false judgments, therefore, is different from judging things that do not exist.

_Theæ._ It seems to be different.

_Socr._ Neither then in this way nor in the way we considered a little before, is false judgment formed in us.

_Theæ._ On no account.

113. _Socr._ Do we then give that name to what takes place as follows.

_Theæ._ How?

_Socr._ We say that a mistaken judgment is a false judgment, when any one says that any real object is another real object, changing one for the other in his thoughts. For thus he always judges that which exists, but one thing instead of another, and erring in that which he was considering, he may be justly said to form a false judgment.

_Theæ._ You now appear to me to have spoken most correctly: for, when any one forms a judgment that a thing is ugly instead of beautiful, or beautiful instead of ugly, then he truly forms a false judgment.

_Socr._ It is evident, Theætetus, that you esteem me lightly and have no fear of me.

_Theæ._ How so?

_Socr._ I do not seem to you, I imagine, likely to lay hold of your “truly false,” by asking whether it is possible for swift to take place slowly or light heavily, or any other contrary, not according to its own nature, but according to the nature of its contrary, contrariwise to itself. This, however, I dismiss, that your confidence may not be in vain. But are you satisfied, as you say, that to form false judgments is to form mistaken judgments?

_Theæ._ I am.

114. _Socr._ It is possible, then, according to your opinion, for one thing to be comprehended in the mind as another, and not as it is.

_Theæ._ It is possible.

_Socr._ When, therefore, any one’s mind does this, is it not necessary that it should think about both objects, or one of them?

_Theæ._ Quite necessary.

_Socr._ Either together or in turns?

_Theæ._ Very well.

_Socr._ But by thinking do you mean the same that I do?

_Theæ._ What do you mean by it?

_Socr._ The discourse which the soul holds with itself about the objects that it considers. I explain this to you as a person who does not know what he says. For the soul, when it thinks, appears to me to do nothing else than discourse with itself, asking itself questions and answering them, affirming and denying; but when it has decided, whether it has come to its decision more slowly or more rapidly, and now asserts and does not doubt, this we call judgment. So that to form a judgment I call to speak, and judgment a sentence spoken, not indeed to another person nor with the voice but in silence to itself. But what do you call it?

_Theæ._ The same.

_Socr._ When any one, therefore, forms a judgment that one thing is another, he says to himself, as it seems, that one thing is another.

115. _Theæ._ How not?

_Socr._ Recollect, then, whether you have ever said to yourself, that the beautiful is certainly ugly, or the unjust, just, or even, chief of all, consider whether you have ever attempted to persuade yourself, that one thing is certainly another, or, quite contrariwise, whether you have ever ventured even in sleep to say to yourself, that undoubtedly odd is even, or any thing else of the kind.

_Theæ._ You say truly.

_Socr._ But do you think that any one else in his senses or even mad would venture to say seriously to himself, being himself persuaded, that an ox must needs be a horse, or two one?

_Theæ._ Not I, by Jupiter.

_Socr._ If, therefore, to speak to one’s-self is to form judgments, no one, who speaks and forms judgments of both objects, and touches upon both with his soul, would say and judge that one is another. You must therefore give up what you said about the other. For I assert this, that no one thinks that the ugly is beautiful, or any thing else of the kind.

_Theæ._ I give it up then, Socrates, and it appears to me as you say.

_Socr._ It is impossible, then, for one who forms judgments about both, to think that the one is the other.

_Theæ._ It seems so.

116. _Socr._ He, however, who judges one thing only, but the other in no respect, will never judge that the one is the other.

_Theæ._ You say truly: for he would be compelled to touch upon that also of which he does not judge.

_Socr._ It is not possible then for a person who judges either both or one of the two, to judge that one is the other: so that if any one should define false judgment to be the judgment of one thing instead of another, he would say nothing to the purpose; for neither in this way, nor in those before mentioned, does it appear that false judgment pertains to us.

_Theæ._ It seems not.

_Socr._ However, Theætetus, if this should appear not to be so, we shall be compelled to admit many absurdities.

_Theæ._ What are they?

_Socr._ I will not tell you, until I have endeavoured to consider the matter in every point of view; for I should be ashamed for both of us, if, while we are in the difficulty we are, we should be compelled to admit what I now say. But if we discover the object of our search and become free, then we will speak of others, as subject to this, being ourselves placed beyond the reach of ridicule: but if we shall continue still involved in difficulties, we must humble ourselves, I imagine, and give ourselves up to discussion, like those who are sea-sick, to be trampled on and treated as it pleases. Hear, then, how I still find a way out of our enquiry.

117. _Theæ._ Only speak.

_Socr._ I shall deny that we made a correct admission, when we admitted that it is impossible for a person to judge that what he knows is what he does not know and be thus deceived; but in some respect it is possible.

_Theæ._ Do you mean that which I suspected at the time when we said this, might be the case, that sometimes I knowing Socrates, and seeing another person at a distance whom I do not know, have thought it was Socrates, whom I do know? For what you mention happens in a case of this kind.

_Socr._ Are we not, then, driven from that position, because it made us, while we know, not know the things that we do know?

_Theæ._ Certainly.

_Socr._ Let us not, then, make our assumption in this way but as follows; and perhaps it will in some respect succeed for us, and perhaps it will oppose us. For we are in a condition in which it is necessary to examine out whole argument in every point of view. Consider, therefore, whether I say any thing to the purpose. Is it possible for a person who did not know something before, afterwards to learn it?

_Theæ._ It is indeed.

_Socr._ And can he not also learn another thing after another?

118. _Theæ._ Why not?

_Socr._ Suppose, then, I beg, for the sake of argument, that we have in our souls a waxen tablet, in one larger, in another smaller, in one of purer wax, in another of impurer, in some of harder, and in others again of softer, but in some of a moderate quality.

_Theæ._ I do suppose it.

_Socr._ Let us say, then, that this is a gift of Mnemosyne the mother of the Muses; and that, whatever we wish to remember of things that we have seen, or heard, or have ourselves thought of, we impress in this, by placing it under our perceptions and thoughts, as if we were taking off the impressions from rings: and that whatever is imprinted, this we remember and know, as long as its image remains; but when it is effaced, or can be no longer imprinted, we forget and do not know it.

_Theæ._ Be it so.

_Socr._ When, therefore, a person knows these things and considers any of the things that he sees or hears, consider whether in this way he can judge falsely?

_Theæ._ In what way?

_Socr._ By thinking with respect to what he knows, that they are at one time the things that he knows, and at another the things that he does not know. For in a former part of our discussion we made an improper admission in admitting that this was impossible.

119. _Theæ._ But how do you mean now?

_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?

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Footnote 163:

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

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_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.