Complete Works

by Plato, Cooper, John M. , Hutchinson, D. S.

  THEODORUS: Well, Socrates, I think you ought to be told, and I think I ought to tell you, about a remarkable boy I have met here, one of your fellow countrymen. And if he were beautiful, I should be extremely nervous of speaking of him with enthusiasm, for fear I might be suspected of being in love with him. But as a matter of fact—if you’ll excuse my saying such a thing—he is not beautiful at all, but is rather like you, snub-nosed, with eyes that stick out; though these features are not quite so pronounced in [144] him. I speak without any qualms; and I assure you that among all the people I have ever met—and I have got to know a good many in my time—I have never yet seen anyone so amazingly gifted. Along with a quickness beyond the capacity of most people, he has an unusually gentle temper; and, to crown it all, he is as manly a boy as any of his fellows. I never thought such a combination could exist; I don’t see it arising elsewhere. People as acute and keen and retentive as he is are apt to be very [b] unbalanced. They get swept along with a rush, like ships without ballast; what stands for courage in their makeup is a kind of mad excitement; while, on the other hand, the steadier sort of people are apt to come to their studies with minds that are sluggish, somehow—freighted with a bad memory. But this boy approaches his studies in a smooth, sure, effective way, and with great good temper; it reminds one of the quiet flow of a stream of oil. The result is that it is astonishing to see how he gets through his work, at his age.

  SOCRATES: That is good news. And he is an Athenian—whose son is he?

  [c] THEODORUS: I have heard the name, but I don’t remember it. But he is the middle one of this group coming toward us. He and his companions were greasing themselves outside just now; it looks as if they have finished and are coming in here. But look and see if you recognize him.

  SOCRATES: Yes, I know him. He’s the son of Euphronius of Sunium—very much the kind of person, my friend, that you tell me his son is. A distinguished man in many ways; he left a considerable property too. But I don’t know the boy’s name.

  [d] THEODORUS: His name, Socrates, is Theaetetus. As for the property, that, I think, has been made away with by trustees. All the same, he is wonderfully open-handed about money, Socrates.

  SOCRATES: A thoroughbred, evidently. I wish you would ask him to come and sit with us over here.

  THEODORUS: All right. Theaetetus, come here beside Socrates.

  SOCRATES: Yes, come along, Theaetetus. I want to see for myself what [e] sort of a face I have. Theodorus says I am like you. But look. If you and I had each had a lyre, and Theodorus had told us that they were both similarly tuned, should we have taken his word for it straightaway? Or should we have tried to find out if he was speaking with any expert knowledge of music?

  THEAETETUS: Oh, we should have inquired into that.

  SOCRATES: And if we had found that he was a musician, we should have believed what he said; but if we found he had no such qualification, we should have put no faith in him.

  THEAETETUS: Yes, that’s true.

  SOCRATES: And now, I suppose, if we are interested in this question of our faces being alike, we ought to consider whether he is speaking with [145] any knowledge of drawing or not?

  THEAETETUS: Yes, I should think so.

  SOCRATES: Then is Theodorus an artist?

  THEAETETUS: No, not so far as I know.

  SOCRATES: Nor a geometer, either?

  THEAETETUS: Oh, there’s no doubt about his being that, Socrates.

  SOCRATES: And isn’t he also a master of astronomy and arithmetic and music—of all that an educated man should know?

  THEAETETUS: Well, he seems to me to be.

  SOCRATES: Then if he asserts that there is some physical resemblance between us—whether complimenting us or the reverse—one ought not to pay much attention to him?

  THEAETETUS: No, perhaps not.

  SOCRATES: But supposing it were the soul of one of us that he was [b] praising? Suppose he said one of us was good and wise? Oughtn’t the one who heard that to be very anxious to examine the object of such praise? And oughtn’t the other to be very willing to show himself off?

  THEAETETUS: Yes, certainly, Socrates.

  SOCRATES: Then, my dear Theaetetus, now is the time for you to show yourself and for me to examine you. For although Theodorus often gives me flattering testimonials for people, both Athenians and foreigners, I assure you I have never before heard him praise anybody in the way he [c] has just praised you.

  THEAETETUS: That’s all very well, Socrates; but take care he wasn’t saying that for a joke.

  SOCRATES: That is not Theodorus’ way. Now don’t you try to get out of what we have agreed upon with the pretence that our friend is joking, or you may make it necessary for him to give his evidence—since no charge of perjury is ever likely to be brought against him. So have the pluck to stand by your agreement.

  THEAETETUS: All right, I must, then, if that’s what you’ve decided.

  SOCRATES: Tell me now. You are learning some geometry from Theodorus, I expect?

  THEAETETUS: Yes, I am.

  SOCRATES: And some astronomy and music and arithmetic? [d]

  THEAETETUS: Well, I’m very anxious to, anyway.

  SOCRATES: And so am I, my son—from Theodorus or from anyone who seems to me to know about these things. But although I get on with them pretty well in most ways, I have a small difficulty, which I think ought to be investigated, with your help and that of the rest of the company.—Now isn’t it true that to learn is to become wiser1 about the thing one is learning?

  THEAETETUS: Yes, of course.

  SOCRATES: And what makes men wise, I take it, is wisdom?

  THEAETETUS: Yes.

  [e] SOCRATES: And is this in any way different from knowledge?

  THEAETETUS: What?

  SOCRATES: Wisdom. Isn’t it the things which they know that men are wise about?

  THEAETETUS: Well, yes.

  SOCRATES: So knowledge and wisdom will be the same thing?

  THEAETETUS: Yes.

  SOCRATES: Now this is just where my difficulty comes in. I can’t get a [146] proper grasp of what on earth knowledge really is. Could we manage to put it into words? What do all of you say? Who’ll speak first? Anyone who makes a mistake shall sit down and be Donkey, as the children say when they are playing ball; and anyone who comes through without a miss shall be King and make us answer any question he likes.—Well, why this silence? Theodorus, I hope my love of argument is not making me forget my manners—just because I’m so anxious to start a discussion and get us all friendly and talkative together?

  [b] THEODORUS: No, no, Socrates—that’s the last thing one could call forgetting your manners. But do make one of the young people answer you. I am not used to this kind of discussion, and I’m too old to get into the way of it. But it would be suitable enough for them and they would profit more by it. For youth can always profit, that’s true enough. So do go on; don’t let Theaetetus off but ask him some more questions.

  SOCRATES: Well, Theaetetus, you hear what Theodorus says. You won’t [c] want to disobey him, I’m sure; and certainly a wise man shouldn’t be disobeyed by his juniors in matters of this kind—it wouldn’t be at all the proper thing. Now give me a good frank answer. What do you think knowledge is?

  THEAETETUS: Well, I ought to answer, Socrates, as you and Theodorus tell me to. In any case, you and he will put me right, if I make a mistake.

  SOCRATES: We certainly will, if we can.

  THEAETETUS: Then I think that the things Theodorus teaches are knowledge—[d] I mean geometry and the subjects you enumerated just now. Then again there are the crafts such as cobbling, whether you take them together or separately. They must be knowledge, surely.

  SOCRATES: That is certainly a frank and indeed a generous answer, my dear lad. I asked you for one thing and you have given me many; I wanted something simple, and I have got a variety.

  THEAETETUS: And what does that mean, Socrates?

  SOCRATES: Nothing, I dare say. But I’ll tell
you what I think. When you talk about cobbling, you mean just knowledge of the making of shoes?

  THEAETETUS: Yes, that’s all I mean by it.

  SOCRATES: And when you talk about carpentering, you mean simply the [e] knowledge of the making of wooden furniture?

  THEAETETUS: Yes, that’s all I mean, again.

  SOCRATES: And in both cases you are putting into your definition what the knowledge is of?

  THEAETETUS: Yes.

  SOCRATES: But that is not what you were asked, Theaetetus. You were not asked to say what one may have knowledge of, or how many branches of knowledge there are. It was not with any idea of counting these up that the question was asked; we wanted to know what knowledge itself is.—Or am I talking nonsense?

  THEAETETUS: No, you are perfectly right.

  SOCRATES: Now think about this too. Supposing we were asked about [147] some commonplace, everyday thing; for example, what is clay? And supposing we were to answer, ‘clay of the potters’ and ‘clay of the stovemakers’ and ‘clay of the brickmakers’, wouldn’t that be absurd of us?

  THEAETETUS: Well, perhaps it would.

  SOCRATES: Absurd to begin with, I suppose, to imagine that the person who asked the question would understand anything from our answer when we say ‘clay’, whether we add that it is dollmakers’ clay or any [b] other craftsman’s. Or do you think that anyone can understand the name of a thing when he doesn’t know what the thing is?

  THEAETETUS: No, certainly not.

  SOCRATES: And so a man who does not know what knowledge is will not understand ‘knowledge of shoes’ either?

  THEAETETUS: No, he won’t.

  SOCRATES: Then a man who is ignorant of what knowledge is will not understand what cobbling is, or any other craft?

  THEAETETUS: That is so.

  SOCRATES: So when the question raised is ‘What is knowledge?’, to reply by naming one of the crafts is an absurd answer; because it points out [c] something that knowledge is of when this is not what the question was about.

  THEAETETUS: So it seems.

  SOCRATES: Again, it goes no end of a long way round, in a case where, I take it, a short and commonplace answer is possible. In the question about clay, for example, it would presumably be possible to make the simple, commonplace statement that it is earth mixed with liquid, and let the question of whose clay it is take care of itself.

  THEAETETUS: That seems easier, Socrates, now you put it like that. But I believe you’re asking just the sort of question that occurred to your namesake [d] Socrates here and myself, when we were having a discussion a little while ago.

  SOCRATES: And what was that, Theaetetus?

  THEAETETUS: Theodorus here was demonstrating to us with the aid of diagrams a point about powers.2 He was showing us that the power of three square feet and the power of five square feet are not commensurable in length with the power of one square foot; and he went on in this way, taking each case in turn till he came to the power of seventeen square feet; there for some reason he stopped. So the idea occurred to us that, since the powers were turning out to be unlimited in number, we might try to collect the powers in [e] question under one term, which would apply to them all.

  SOCRATES: And did you find the kind of thing you wanted?

  THEAETETUS: I think we did. But I’d like you to see if it’s all right.

  SOCRATES: Go on, then.

  THEAETETUS: We divided all numbers into two classes. Any number which can be produced by the multiplication of two equal numbers, we compared to a square in shape, and we called this a square or equilateral number.

  SOCRATES: Good, so far.

  [148] THEAETETUS: Then we took the intermediate numbers, such as three and five and any number which can’t be produced by multiplication of two equals but only by multiplying together a greater and a less; a number such that it is always contained by a greater and a less side. A number of this kind we compared to an oblong figure, and called it an oblong number.

  SOCRATES: That’s excellent. But how did you go on?

  THEAETETUS: We defined under the term ‘length’ any line which produces in square an equilateral plane number; while any line which produces in square an oblong number we defined under the term ‘power’, for the [b] reason that although it is incommensurable with the former in length, it is commensurable in the plane figures which they respectively have the power to produce. And there is another distinction of the same sort with regard to solids.

  SOCRATES: Excellent, my boys. I don’t think Theodorus is likely to be had up for false witness.

  THEAETETUS: And yet, Socrates, I shouldn’t be able to answer your question about knowledge in the same way that I answered the one about lengths and powers—though you seem to me to be looking for something of the same sort. So Theodorus turns out a false witness after all.

  SOCRATES: Well, but suppose now it was your running he had praised; [c] suppose he had said that he had never met anyone among the young people who was such a runner as you. And then suppose you were beaten by the champion runner in his prime—would you think Theodorus’ praise had lost any of its truth?

  THEAETETUS: No, I shouldn’t.

  SOCRATES: But do you think the discovery of what knowledge is is really what I was saying just now—a small thing? Don’t you think that’s a problem for the people at the top?

  THEAETETUS: Yes, rather, I do; and the very topmost of them.

  SOCRATES: Then do have confidence in yourself and try to believe that Theodorus knew what he was talking about. You must put your whole [d] heart into what we are doing—in particular into this matter of getting a statement of what knowledge really is.

  THEAETETUS: If putting one’s heart into it is all that is required, Socrates, the answer will come to light.

  SOCRATES: Go on, then. You gave us a good lead just now. Try to imitate your answer about the powers. There you brought together the many powers within a single form; now I want you in the same way to give one single account of the many branches of knowledge.

  THEAETETUS: But I assure you, Socrates, I have often tried to think this [e] out, when I have heard reports of the questions you ask. But I can never persuade myself that anything I say will really do; and I never hear anyone else state the matter in the way that you require. And yet, again, you know, I can’t even stop worrying about it.

  SOCRATES: Yes; those are the pains of labor, dear Theaetetus. It is because you are not barren but pregnant.

  THEAETETUS: I don’t know about that, Socrates. I’m only telling you what’s happened to me.

  SOCRATES: Then do you mean to say you’ve never heard about my being [149] the son of a good hefty midwife, Phaenarete?3

  THEAETETUS: Oh, yes, I’ve heard that before.

  SOCRATES: And haven’t you ever been told that I practice the same art myself?

  THEAETETUS: No, I certainly haven’t.

  SOCRATES: But I do, believe me. Only don’t give me away to the rest of the world, will you? You see, my friend, it is a secret that I have this art. That is not one of the things you hear people saying about me, because they don’t know; but they do say that I am a very odd sort of person, always causing people to get into difficulties. You must have heard that, surely?

  [b] THEAETETUS: Yes, I have.

  SOCRATES: And shall I tell you what is the explanation of that?

  THEAETETUS: Yes, please do.

  SOCRATES: Well, if you will just think of the general facts about the business of midwifery, you will see more easily what I mean. You know, I suppose, that women never practice as midwives while they are still conceiving and bearing children themselves. It is only those who are past child-bearing who take this up.

  THEAETETUS: Oh, yes.

  SOCRATES: They say it was Artemis who was responsible for this custom; [c] it was because she, who undertook the patronage of childbirth, was herself childless. She didn’t, it’s true, entrust the duties of midwifery to barren women, because human nature is too weak to acquire skill where
it has no experience. But she assigned the task to those who have become incapable of child-bearing through age—honoring their likeness to herself.

  THEAETETUS: Yes, naturally.

  SOCRATES: And this too is very natural, isn’t it?—or perhaps necessary? I mean that it is the midwives who can tell better than anyone else whether women are pregnant or not.

  THEAETETUS: Yes, of course.

  [d] SOCRATES: And then it is the midwives who have the power to bring on the pains, and also, if they think fit, to relieve them; they do it by the use of simple drugs, and by singing incantations. In difficult cases, too, they can bring about the birth; or, if they consider it advisable, they can promote a miscarriage.

  THEAETETUS: Yes, that is so.

  SOCRATES: There’s another thing too. Have you noticed this about them, that they are the cleverest of match-makers, because they are marvellously knowing about the kind of couples whose marriage will produce the best children?

  THEAETETUS: No, that is not at all familiar to me.

  SOCRATES: But they are far prouder of this, believe me, than of cutting [e] the umbilical cord. Think now. There’s an art which is concerned with the cultivation and harvesting of the crops. Now is it the same art which prescribes the best soil for planting or sowing a given crop? Or is it a different one?

  THEAETETUS: No, it is all the same art.

  SOCRATES: Then applying this to women, will there be one art of the sowing and another of the harvesting?

  THEAETETUS: That doesn’t seem likely, certainly.