The Foreigner

FOREIGNER: Let not any one say, then, that while affirming the opposition of not-being to being, we still assert the being of not-being; for as to whether there is an opposite of being, to that enquiry we have long said good-bye—it may or may not be, and may or may not be capable of definition. But as touching our present account of not-being, let a man either convince us of error, or, so long as he cannot, he too must say, as we are saying, that there is a communion of classes, and that being, and difference or other, traverse all things and mutually interpenetrate, so that the other partakes of being, and by reason of this participation is, and yet is not that of which it partakes, but other, and being other than being, it is clearly a necessity that not-being should be. And again, being, through partaking of the other, becomes a class other than the remaining classes, and being other than all of them, is not each one of them, and is not all the rest, so that undoubtedly there are thousands upon thousands of cases in which being is not, and all other things, whether regarded individually or collectively, in many respects are, and in many respects are not.

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: And he who is sceptical of this contradiction, must think how he can find something better to say; or if he sees a puzzle, and his pleasure is to drag words this way and that, the argument will prove to him, that he is not making a worthy use of his faculties; for there is no charm in such puzzles, and there is no difficulty in detecting them; but we can tell him of something else the pursuit of which is noble and also difficult.

THEAETETUS: What is it?

FOREIGNER: A thing of which I have already spoken;—letting alone these puzzles as involving no difficulty, he should be able to follow and criticize in detail every argument, and when a man says that the same is in a manner other, or that other is the same, to understand and refute him from his own point of view, and in the same respect in which he asserts either of these affections. But to show that somehow and in some sense the same is other, or the other same, or the great small, or the like unlike; and to delight in always bringing forward such contradictions, is no real refutation, but is clearly the new-born babe of some one who is only beginning to approach the problem of being.

THEAETETUS: To be sure.

FOREIGNER: For certainly, my friend, the attempt to separate all existences from one another is a barbarism and utterly unworthy of an educated or philosophical mind.

THEAETETUS: Why so?

FOREIGNER: The attempt at universal separation is the final annihilation of all reasoning; for only by the union of conceptions with one another do we attain to discourse of reason.

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: And, observe that we were only just in time in making a resistance to such separatists, and compelling them to admit that one thing mingles with another.

THEAETETUS: Why so?

FOREIGNER: Why, that we might be able to assert discourse to be a kind of being; for if we could not, the worst of all consequences would follow; we should have no philosophy. Moreover, the necessity for determining the nature of discourse presses upon us at this moment; if utterly deprived of it, we could no more hold discourse; and deprived of it we should be if we admitted that there was no admixture of natures at all.

THEAETETUS: Very true. But I do not understand why at this moment we must determine the nature of discourse.

FOREIGNER: Perhaps you will see more clearly by the help of the following explanation.

THEAETETUS: What explanation?

FOREIGNER: Not-being has been acknowledged by us to be one among many classes diffused over all being.

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: And thence arises the question, whether not-being mingles with opinion and language.

THEAETETUS: How so?

FOREIGNER: If not-being has no part in the proposition, then all things must be true; but if not-being has a part, then false opinion and false speech are possible, for to think or to say what is not—is falsehood, which thus arises in the region of thought and in speech.

THEAETETUS: That is quite true.

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

THEAETETUS: Yes.

FOREIGNER: And if there is deceit, then all things must be full of idols and images and fancies.

THEAETETUS: To be sure.

FOREIGNER: Into that region the Sophist, as we said, made his escape, and, when he had got there, denied the very possibility of falsehood; no one, he argued, either conceived or uttered falsehood, inasmuch as not-being did not in any way partake of being.

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: And now, not-being has been shown to partake of being, and therefore he will not continue fighting in this direction, but he will probably say that some ideas partake of not-being, and some not, and that language and opinion are of the non-partaking class; and he will still fight to the death against the existence of the image-making and phantastic art, in which we have placed him, because, as he will say, opinion and language do not partake of not-being, and unless this participation exists, there can be no such thing as falsehood. And, with the view of meeting this evasion, we must begin by enquiring into the nature of language, opinion, and imagination, in order that when we find them we may find also that they have communion with not-being, and, having made out the connexion of them, may thus prove that falsehood exists; and therein we will imprison the Sophist, if he deserves it, or, if not, we will let him go again and look for him in another class.

THEAETETUS: Certainly, Stranger, there appears to be truth in what was said about the Sophist at first, that he was of a class not easily caught, for he seems to have abundance of defences, which he throws up, and which must every one of them be stormed before we can reach the man himself. And even now, we have with difficulty got through his first defence, which is the not-being of not-being, and lo! here is another; for we have still to show that falsehood exists in the sphere of language and opinion, and there will be another and another line of defence without end.

FOREIGNER: Any one, Theaetetus, who is able to advance even a little ought to be of good cheer, for what would he who is dispirited at a little progress do, if he were making none at all, or even undergoing a repulse? Such a faint heart, as the proverb says, will never take a city: but now that we have succeeded thus far, the citadel is ours, and what remains is easier.

THEAETETUS: Very true.

FOREIGNER: Then, as I was saying, let us first of all obtain a conception of language and opinion, in order that we may have clearer grounds for determining, whether not-being has any concern with them, or whether they are both always true, and neither of them ever false.

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: Then, now, let us speak of names, as before we were speaking of ideas and letters; for that is the direction in which the answer may be expected.

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

FOREIGNER: The question at issue is whether all names may be connected with one another, or none, or only some of them.

THEAETETUS: Clearly the last is true.

FOREIGNER: I understand you to say that words which have a meaning when in sequence may be connected, but that words which have no meaning when in sequence cannot be connected?

THEAETETUS: What are you saying?

FOREIGNER: What I thought that you intended when you gave your assent; for there are two sorts of intimation of being which are given by the voice.

THEAETETUS: What are they?

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

THEAETETUS: Describe them.

FOREIGNER: That which denotes action we call a verb.

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: And the other, which is an articulate mark set on those who do the actions, we call a noun.

THEAETETUS: Quite true.

FOREIGNER: A succession of nouns only is not a sentence, any more than of verbs without nouns.

THEAETETUS: I do not understand you.

FOREIGNER: I see that when you gave your assent you had something else in your mind. But what I intended to say was, that a mere succession of nouns or of verbs is not discourse.

THEAETETUS: What do you mean?

FOREIGNER: I mean that words like ‘walks,’ ‘runs,’ ‘sleeps,’ or any other words which denote action, however many of them you string together, do not make discourse.

THEAETETUS: How can they?

FOREIGNER: Or, again, when you say ’lion,’ ‘stag,’ ‘horse,’ or any other words which denote agents—neither in this way of stringing words together do you attain to discourse; for there is no expression of action or inaction, or of the existence of existence or non-existence indicated by the sounds, until verbs are mingled with nouns; then the words fit, and the smallest combination of them forms language, and is the simplest and least form of discourse.

THEAETETUS: Again I ask, What do you mean?

FOREIGNER: When any one says ‘A man learns,’ should you not call this the simplest and least of sentences?

THEAETETUS: Yes.

FOREIGNER: Yes, for he now arrives at the point of giving an intimation about something which is, or is becoming, or has become, or will be. And he not only names, but he does something, by connecting verbs with nouns; and therefore we say that he discourses, and to this connexion of words we give the name of discourse.

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: And as there are some things which fit one another, and other things which do not fit, so there are some vocal signs which do, and others which do not, combine and form discourse.

THEAETETUS: Quite true.

FOREIGNER: There is another small matter.

THEAETETUS: What is it?

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

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: And must be of a certain quality.

THEAETETUS: Certainly.

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

THEAETETUS: We must do so.

FOREIGNER: I will repeat a sentence to you in which a thing and an action are combined, by the help of a noun and a verb; and you shall tell me of whom the sentence speaks.

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

FOREIGNER: ‘Theaetetus sits’—not a very long sentence.

THEAETETUS: Not very.

FOREIGNER: Of whom does the sentence speak, and who is the subject? that is what you have to tell.

THEAETETUS: Of me; I am the subject.

FOREIGNER: Or this sentence, again—

THEAETETUS: What sentence?

FOREIGNER: ‘Theaetetus, with whom I am now speaking, is flying.’

THEAETETUS: That also is a sentence which will be admitted by every one to speak of me, and to apply to me.

FOREIGNER: We agreed that every sentence must necessarily have a certain quality.

THEAETETUS: Yes.

FOREIGNER: And what is the quality of each of these two sentences?

THEAETETUS: The one, as I imagine, is false, and the other true.

FOREIGNER: The true says what is true about you?

THEAETETUS: Yes.

FOREIGNER: And the false says what is other than true?

THEAETETUS: Yes.

FOREIGNER: And therefore speaks of things which are not as if they were?

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: And say that things are real of you which are not; for, as we were saying, in regard to each thing or person, there is much that is and much that is not.

THEAETETUS: Quite true.

FOREIGNER: The second of the two sentences which related to you was first of all an example of the shortest form consistent with our definition.

THEAETETUS: Yes, this was implied in recent admission.

FOREIGNER: And, in the second place, it related to a subject?

THEAETETUS: Yes.

FOREIGNER: Who must be you, and can be nobody else?

THEAETETUS: Unquestionably.

FOREIGNER: And it would be no sentence at all if there were no subject, for, as we proved, a sentence which has no subject is impossible.

THEAETETUS: Quite true.

FOREIGNER: When other, then, is asserted of you as the same, and not-being as being, such a combination of nouns and verbs is really and truly false discourse.

THEAETETUS: Most true.

FOREIGNER: And therefore thought, opinion, and imagination are now proved to exist in our minds both as true and false.

THEAETETUS: How so?

FOREIGNER: You will know better if you first gain a knowledge of what they are, and in what they severally differ from one another.

THEAETETUS: Give me the knowledge which you would wish me to gain.

FOREIGNER: Are not thought and speech the same, with this exception, that what is called thought is the unuttered conversation of the soul with herself?

THEAETETUS: Quite true.

FOREIGNER: But the stream of thought which flows through the lips and is audible is called speech?

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: And we know that there exists in speech…

THEAETETUS: What exists?

FOREIGNER: Affirmation.

THEAETETUS: Yes, we know it.

FOREIGNER: When the affirmation or denial takes Place in silence and in the mind only, have you any other name by which to call it but opinion?

THEAETETUS: There can be no other name.

FOREIGNER: And when opinion is presented, not simply, but in some form of sense, would you not call it imagination?

THEAETETUS: Certainly.

FOREIGNER: And seeing that language is true and false, and that thought is the conversation of the soul with herself, and opinion is the end of thinking, and imagination or phantasy is the union of sense and opinion, the inference is that some of them, since they are akin to language, should have an element of falsehood as well as of truth?

THEAETETUS: Certainly.

FOREIGNER: Do you perceive, then, that false opinion and speech have been discovered sooner than we expected?—For just now we seemed to be undertaking a task which would never be accomplished.

THEAETETUS: I perceive.

FOREIGNER: Then let us not be discouraged about the future; but now having made this discovery, let us go back to our previous classification.

THEAETETUS: What classification?

FOREIGNER: We divided image-making into two sorts; the one likeness-making, the other imaginative or phantastic.

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: And we said that we were uncertain in which we should place the Sophist.

THEAETETUS: We did say so.

FOREIGNER: And our heads began to go round more and more when it was asserted that there is no such thing as an image or idol or appearance, because in no manner or time or place can there ever be such a thing as falsehood.

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: And now, since there has been shown to be false speech and false opinion, there may be imitations of real existences, and out of this condition of the mind an art of deception may arise.

THEAETETUS: Quite possible.

FOREIGNER: And we have already admitted, in what preceded, that the Sophist was lurking in one of the divisions of the likeness-making art?

THEAETETUS: Yes.

FOREIGNER: Let us, then, renew the attempt, and in dividing any class, always take the part to the right, holding fast to that which holds the Sophist, until we have stripped him of all his common properties, and reached his difference or peculiar. Then we may exhibit him in his true nature, first to ourselves and then to kindred dialectical spirits.

THEAETETUS: Very good.

FOREIGNER: You may remember that all art was originally divided by us into creative and acquisitive.

THEAETETUS: Yes.

FOREIGNER: And the Sophist was flitting before us in the acquisitive class, in the subdivisions of hunting, contests, merchandize, and the like.

THEAETETUS: Very true.

FOREIGNER: But now that the imitative art has enclosed him, it is clear that we must begin by dividing the art of creation; for imitation is a kind of creation—of images, however, as we affirm, and not of real things.

THEAETETUS: Quite true.

FOREIGNER: In the first place, there are two kinds of creation.

THEAETETUS: What are they?

FOREIGNER: One of them is human and the other divine.

THEAETETUS: I do not follow.

FOREIGNER: Every power, as you may remember our saying originally, which causes things to exist, not previously existing, was defined by us as creative.

THEAETETUS: I remember.

FOREIGNER: Looking, now, at the world and all the animals and plants, at things which grow upon the earth from seeds and roots, as well as at inanimate substances which are formed within the earth, fusile or non-fusile, shall we say that they come into existence—not having existed previously—by the creation of God, or shall we agree with vulgar opinion about them?

THEAETETUS: What is it?

FOREIGNER: The opinion that nature brings them into being from some spontaneous and unintelligent cause. Or shall we say that they are created by a divine reason and a knowledge which comes from God?

THEAETETUS: I dare say that, owing to my youth, I may often waver in my view, but now when I look at you and see that you incline to refer them to God, I defer to your authority.

FOREIGNER: Nobly said, Theaetetus, and if I thought that you were one of those who would hereafter change your mind, I would have gently argued with you, and forced you to assent; but as I perceive that you will come of yourself and without any argument of mine, to that belief which, as you say, attracts you, I will not forestall the work of time. Let me suppose, then, that things which are said to be made by nature are the work of divine art, and that things which are made by man out of these are works of human art. And so there are two kinds of making and production, the one human and the other divine.

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: Then, now, subdivide each of the two sections which we have already.

THEAETETUS: How do you mean?

FOREIGNER: I mean to say that you should make a vertical division of production or invention, as you have already made a lateral one.

THEAETETUS: I have done so.

FOREIGNER: Then, now, there are in all four parts or segments—two of them have reference to us and are human, and two of them have reference to the gods and are divine.

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: And, again, in the division which was supposed to be made in the other way, one part in each subdivision is the making of the things themselves, but the two remaining parts may be called the making of likenesses; and so the productive art is again divided into two parts.

THEAETETUS: Tell me the divisions once more.

FOREIGNER: I suppose that we, and the other animals, and the elements out of which things are made—fire, water, and the like—are known by us to be each and all the creation and work of God.

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: And there are images of them, which are not them, but which correspond to them; and these are also the creation of a wonderful skill.

THEAETETUS: What are they?

FOREIGNER: The appearances which spring up of themselves in sleep or by day, such as a shadow when darkness arises in a fire, or the reflection which is produced when the light in bright and smooth objects meets on their surface with an external light, and creates a perception the opposite of our ordinary sight.

THEAETETUS: Yes; and the images as well as the creation are equally the work of a divine hand.

FOREIGNER: And what shall we say of human art? Do we not make one house by the art of building, and another by the art of drawing, which is a sort of dream created by man for those who are awake?

THEAETETUS: Quite true.

FOREIGNER: And other products of human creation are also twofold and go in pairs; there is the thing, with which the art of making the thing is concerned, and the image, with which imitation is concerned.

THEAETETUS: Now I begin to understand, and am ready to acknowledge that there are two kinds of production, and each of them twofold; in the lateral division there is both a divine and a human production; in the vertical there are realities and a creation of a kind of similitudes.

FOREIGNER: And let us not forget that of the imitative class the one part was to have been likeness-making, and the other phantastic, if it could be shown that falsehood is a reality and belongs to the class of real being.

THEAETETUS: Yes.

FOREIGNER: And this appeared to be the case; and therefore now, without hesitation, we shall number the different kinds as two.

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: Then, now, let us again divide the phantastic art.

THEAETETUS: Where shall we make the division?

FOREIGNER: There is one kind which is produced by an instrument, and another in which the creator of the appearance is himself the instrument.

THEAETETUS: What do you mean?

FOREIGNER: When any one makes himself appear like another in his figure or his voice, imitation is the name for this part of the phantastic art.

THEAETETUS: Yes.

FOREIGNER: Let this, then, be named the art of mimicry, and this the province assigned to it; as for the other division, we are weary and will give that up, leaving to some one else the duty of making the class and giving it a suitable name.

THEAETETUS: Let us do as you say—assign a sphere to the one and leave the other.

FOREIGNER: There is a further distinction, Theaetetus, which is worthy of our consideration, and for a reason which I will tell you.

THEAETETUS: Let me hear.

FOREIGNER: There are some who imitate, knowing what they imitate, and some who do not know. And what line of distinction can there possibly be greater than that which divides ignorance from knowledge?

THEAETETUS: There can be no greater.

FOREIGNER: Was not the sort of imitation of which we spoke just now the imitation of those who know? For he who would imitate you would surely know you and your figure?

THEAETETUS: Naturally.

FOREIGNER: And what would you say of the figure or form of justice or of virtue in general? Are we not well aware that many, having no knowledge of either, but only a sort of opinion, do their best to show that this opinion is really entertained by them, by expressing it, as far as they can, in word and deed?

THEAETETUS: Yes, that is very common.

FOREIGNER: And do they always fail in their attempt to be thought just, when they are not? Or is not the very opposite true?

THEAETETUS: The very opposite.

FOREIGNER: Such a one, then, should be described as an imitator—to be distinguished from the other, as he who is ignorant is distinguished from him who knows?

THEAETETUS: True.

FOREIGNER: Can we find a suitable name for each of them? This is clearly not an easy task; for among the ancients there was some confusion of ideas, which prevented them from attempting to divide genera into species; wherefore there is no great abundance of names. Yet, for the sake of distinctness, I will make bold to call the imitation which coexists with opinion, the imitation of appearance—that which coexists with science, a scientific or learned imitation.

THEAETETUS: Granted.

FOREIGNER: The former is our present concern, for the Sophist was classed with imitators indeed, but not among those who have knowledge.

THEAETETUS: Very true.

FOREIGNER: Let us, then, examine our imitator of appearance, and see whether he is sound, like a piece of iron, or whether there is still some crack in him.

THEAETETUS: Let us examine him.

FOREIGNER: Indeed there is a very considerable crack; for if you look, you find that one of the two classes of imitators is a simple creature, who thinks that he knows that which he only fancies; the other sort has knocked about among arguments, until he suspects and fears that he is ignorant of that which to the many he pretends to know.

THEAETETUS: There are certainly the two kinds which you describe.

FOREIGNER: Shall we regard one as the simple imitator—the other as the dissembling or ironical imitator?

THEAETETUS: Very good.

FOREIGNER: And shall we further speak of this latter class as having one or two divisions?

THEAETETUS: Answer yourself.

FOREIGNER: Upon consideration, then, there appear to me to be two; there is the dissembler, who harangues a multitude in public in a long speech, and the dissembler, who in private and in short speeches compels the person who is conversing with him to contradict himself.

THEAETETUS: What you say is most true.

FOREIGNER: And who is the maker of the longer speeches? Is he the statesman or the popular orator?

THEAETETUS: The latter.

FOREIGNER: And what shall we call the other? Is he the philosopher or the Sophist?

THEAETETUS: The philosopher he cannot be, for upon our view he is ignorant; but since he is an imitator of the wise he will have a name which is formed by an adaptation of the word sophos. What shall we name him? I am pretty sure that I cannot be mistaken in terming him the true and very Sophist.

FOREIGNER: Shall we bind up his name as we did before, making a chain from one end of his genealogy to the other?

THEAETETUS: By all means.

FOREIGNER: He, then, who traces the pedigree of his art as follows—who, belonging to the conscious or dissembling section of the art of causing self-contradiction, is an imitator of appearance, and is separated from the class of phantastic which is a branch of image-making into that further division of creation, the juggling of words, a creation human, and not divine—any one who affirms the real Sophist to be of this blood and lineage will say the very truth.

THEAETETUS: Undoubtedly.