{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_1687/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_1687","id":"gutenberg_1687","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1687","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Classical literature","Dialectic -- Early works to 1800","Ontology -- Early works to 1800","Parmenides","Philosophy, Ancient","Reasoning -- Early works to 1800","Socrates, 470 BC-399 BC","Zeno, of Elea"],"text":"PARMENIDES\n\nBy Plato\n\n\nTranslated by Benjamin Jowett\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION AND ANALYSIS.\n\nThe awe with which Plato regarded the character of 'the great'\nParmenides has extended to the dialogue which he calls by his name. None\nof the writings of Plato have been more copiously illustrated, both in\nancient and modern times, and in none of them have the interpreters\nbeen more at variance with one another. Nor is this surprising. For the\nParmenides is more fragmentary and isolated than any other dialogue, and\nthe design of the writer is not expressly stated. The date is uncertain;\nthe relation to the other writings of Plato is also uncertain; the\nconnexion between the two parts is at first sight extremely obscure;\nand in the latter of the two we are left in doubt as to whether Plato is\nspeaking his own sentiments by the lips of Parmenides, and overthrowing\nhim out of his own mouth, or whether he is propounding consequences\nwhich would have been admitted by Zeno and Parmenides themselves. The\ncontradictions which follow from the hypotheses of the one and many have\nbeen regarded by some as transcendental mysteries; by others as a mere\nillustration, taken at random, of a new method. They seem to have been\ninspired by a sort of dialectical frenzy, such as may be supposed to\nhave prevailed in the Megarian School (compare Cratylus, etc.). The\ncriticism on his own doctrine of Ideas has also been considered, not as\na real criticism, but as an exuberance of the metaphysical imagination\nwhich enabled Plato to go beyond himself. To the latter part of the\ndialogue we may certainly apply the words in which he himself describes\nthe earlier philosophers in the Sophist: 'They went on their way rather\nregardless of whether we understood them or not.'\n\nThe Parmenides in point of style is one of the best of the Platonic\nwritings; the first portion of the dialogue is in no way defective in\nease and grace and dramatic interest; nor in the second part, where\nthere was no room for such qualities, is there any want of clearness or\nprecision. The latter half is an exquisite mosaic, of which the small\npieces are with the utmost fineness and regularity adapted to one\nanother. Like the Protagoras, Phaedo, and others, the whole is a\nnarrated dialogue, combining with the mere recital of the words spoken,\nthe observations of the reciter on the effect produced by them. Thus we\nare informed by him that Zeno and Parmenides were not altogether pleased\nat the request of Socrates that they would examine into the nature of\nthe one and many in the sphere of Ideas, although they received his\nsuggestion with approving smiles. And we are glad to be told that\nParmenides was 'aged but well-favoured,' and that Zeno was 'very\ngood-looking'; also that Parmenides affected to decline the great\nargument, on which, as Zeno knew from experience, he was not unwilling\nto enter. The character of Antiphon, the half-brother of Plato, who\nhad once been inclined to philosophy, but has now shown the hereditary\ndisposition for horses, is very naturally described. He is the sole\ndepositary of the famous dialogue; but, although he receives the\nstrangers like a courteous gentleman, he is impatient of the trouble of\nreciting it. As they enter, he has been giving orders to a bridle-maker;\nby this slight touch Plato verifies the previous description of him.\nAfter a little persuasion he is induced to favour the Clazomenians, who\ncome from a distance, with a rehearsal. Respecting the visit of Zeno\nand Parmenides to Athens, we may observe--first, that such a visit is\nconsistent with dates, and may possibly have occurred; secondly, that\nPlato is very likely to have invented the meeting ('You, Socrates, can\neasily invent Egyptian tales or anything else,' Phaedrus); thirdly, that\nno reliance can be placed on the circumstance as determining the date\nof Parmenides and Zeno; fourthly, that the same occasion appears to be\nreferred to by Plato in two other places (Theaet., Soph.).\n\nMany interpreters have regarded the Parmenides as a 'reductio ad\nabsurdum' of the Eleatic philosophy. But would Plato have been likely to\nplace this in the mouth of the great Parmenides himself, who appeared\nto him, in Homeric language, to be 'venerable and awful,' and to have\na 'glorious depth of mind'? (Theaet.). It may be admitted that he has\nascribed to an Eleatic stranger in the Sophist opinions which went\nbeyond the doctrines of the Eleatics. But the Eleatic stranger expressly\ncriticises the doctrines in which he had been brought up; he admits that\nhe is going to 'lay hands on his father Parmenides.' Nothing of this\nkind is said of Zeno and Parmenides. How then, without a word of\nexplanation, could Plato assign to them the refutation of their own\ntenets?\n\nThe conclusion at which we must arrive is that the Parmenides is not\na refutation of the Eleatic philosophy. Nor would such an explanation\nafford any satisfactory connexion of the first and second parts of the\ndialogue. And it is quite inconsistent with Plato's own relation to the\nEleatics. For of all the pre-Socratic philosophers, he speaks of them\nwith the greatest respect. But he could hardly have passed upon them a\nmore unmeaning slight than to ascribe to their great master tenets the\nreverse of those which he actually held.\n\nTwo preliminary remarks may be made. First, that whatever latitude we\nmay allow to Plato in bringing together by a 'tour de force,' as in the\nPhaedrus, dissimilar themes, yet he always in some way seeks to find\na connexion for them. Many threads join together in one the love and\ndialectic of the Phaedrus. We cannot conceive that the great artist\nwould place in juxtaposition two absolutely divided and incoherent\nsubjects. And hence we are led to make a second remark: viz. that\nno explanation of the Parmenides can be satisfactory which does not\nindicate the connexion of the first and second parts. To suppose that\nPlato would first go out of his way to make Parmenides attack the\nPlatonic Ideas, and then proceed to a similar but more fatal assault on\nhis own doctrine of Being, appears to be the height of absurdity.\n\nPerhaps there is no passage in Plato showing greater metaphysical power\nthan that in which he assails his own theory of Ideas. The arguments are\nnearly, if not quite, those of Aristotle; they are the objections which\nnaturally occur to a modern student of philosophy. Many persons will be\nsurprised to find Plato criticizing the very conceptions which have been\nsupposed in after ages to be peculiarly characteristic of him. How can\nhe have placed himself so completely without them? How can he have ever\npersisted in them after seeing the fatal objections which might be urged\nagainst them? The consideration of this difficulty has led a recent\ncritic (Ueberweg), who in general accepts the authorised canon of the\nPlatonic writings, to condemn the Parmenides as spurious. The accidental\nwant of external evidence, at first sight, seems to favour this opinion.\n\nIn answer, it might be sufficient to say, that no ancient writing of\nequal length and excellence is known to be spurious. Nor is the silence\nof Aristotle to be hastily assumed; there is at least a doubt whether\nhis use of the same arguments does not involve the inference that he\nknew the work. And, if the Parmenides is spurious, like Ueberweg, we\nare led on further than we originally intended, to pass a similar\ncondemnation on the Theaetetus and Sophist, and therefore on the\nPoliticus (compare Theaet., Soph.). But the objection is in reality\nfanciful, and rests on the assumption that the doctrine of the Ideas was\nheld by Plato throughout his life in the same form. For the truth\nis, that the Platonic Ideas were in constant process of growth and\ntransmutation; sometimes veiled in poetry and mythology, then again\nemerging as fixed Ideas, in some passages regarded as absolute and\neternal, and in others as relative to the human mind, existing in\nand derived from external objects as well as transcending them. The\nanamnesis of the Ideas is chiefly insisted upon in the mythical portions\nof the dialogues, and really occupies a very small space in the entire\nworks of Plato. Their transcendental existence is not asserted, and\nis therefore implicitly denied in the Philebus; different forms\nare ascribed to them in the Republic, and they are mentioned in the\nTheaetetus, the Sophist, the Politicus, and the Laws, much as Universals\nwould be spoken of in modern books. Indeed, there are very faint traces\nof the transcendental doctrine of Ideas, that is, of their existence\napart from the mind, in any of Plato's writings, with the exception of\nthe Meno, the Phaedrus, the Phaedo, and in portions of the Republic. The\nstereotyped form which Aristotle has given to them is not found in Plato\n(compare Essay on the Platonic Ideas in the Introduction to the Meno.)\n\nThe full discussion of this subject involves a comprehensive survey of\nthe philosophy of Plato, which would be out of place here. But, without\ndigressing further from the immediate subject of the Parmenides, we\nmay remark that Plato is quite serious in his objections to his own\ndoctrines: nor does Socrates attempt to offer any answer to them. The\nperplexities which surround the one and many in the sphere of the Ideas\nare also alluded to in the Philebus, and no answer is given to them. Nor\nhave they ever been answered, nor can they be answered by any one else\nwho separates the phenomenal from the real. To suppose that Plato, at a\nlater period of his life, reached a point of view from which he was able\nto answer them, is a groundless assumption. The real progress of Plato's\nown mind has been partly concealed from us by the dogmatic statements of\nAristotle, and also by the degeneracy of his own followers, with whom a\ndoctrine of numbers quickly superseded Ideas.\n\nAs a preparation for answering some of the difficulties which have\nbeen suggested, we may begin by sketching the first portion of the\ndialogue:--\n\nCephalus, of Clazomenae in Ionia, the birthplace of Anaxagoras, a\ncitizen of no mean city in the history of philosophy, who is the\nnarrator of the dialogue, describes himself as meeting Adeimantus and\nGlaucon in the Agora at Athens. 'Welcome, Cephalus: can we do anything\nfor you in Athens?' 'Why, yes: I came to ask a favour of you. First,\ntell me your half-brother's name, which I have forgotten--he was a mere\nchild when I was last here;--I know his father's, which is Pyrilampes.'\n'Yes, and the name of our brother is Antiphon. But why do you ask?'\n'Let me introduce to you some countrymen of mine, who are lovers of\nphilosophy; they have heard that Antiphon remembers a conversation of\nSocrates with Parmenides and Zeno, of which the report came to him from\nPythodorus, Zeno's friend.' 'That is quite true.' 'And can they hear the\ndialogue?' 'Nothing easier; in the days of his youth he made a careful\nstudy of the piece; at present, his thoughts have another direction: he\ntakes after his grandfather, and has given up philosophy for horses.'\n\n'We went to look for him, and found him giving instructions to a worker\nin brass about a bridle. When he had done with him, and had learned\nfrom his brothers the purpose of our visit, he saluted me as an old\nacquaintance, and we asked him to repeat the dialogue. At first, he\ncomplained of the trouble, but he soon consented. He told us that\nPythodorus had described to him the appearance of Parmenides and Zeno;\nthey had come to Athens at the great Panathenaea, the former being at\nthe time about sixty-five years old, aged but well-favoured--Zeno, who\nwas said to have been beloved of Parmenides in the days of his youth,\nabout forty, and very good-looking:--that they lodged with Pythodorus at\nthe Ceramicus outside the wall, whither Socrates, then a very young\nman, came to see them: Zeno was reading one of his theses, which he\nhad nearly finished, when Pythodorus entered with Parmenides and\nAristoteles, who was afterwards one of the Thirty. When the recitation\nwas completed, Socrates requested that the first thesis of the treatise\nmight be read again.'\n\n'You mean, Zeno,' said Socrates, 'to argue that being, if it is many,\nmust be both like and unlike, which is a contradiction; and each\ndivision of your argument is intended to elicit a similar absurdity,\nwhich may be supposed to follow from the assumption that being is many.'\n'Such is my meaning.' 'I see,' said Socrates, turning to Parmenides,\n'that Zeno is your second self in his writings too; you prove admirably\nthat the all is one: he gives proofs no less convincing that the many\nare nought. To deceive the world by saying the same thing in entirely\ndifferent forms, is a strain of art beyond most of us.' 'Yes, Socrates,'\nsaid Zeno; 'but though you are as keen as a Spartan hound, you do not\nquite catch the motive of the piece, which was only intended to protect\nParmenides against ridicule by showing that the hypothesis of the\nexistence of the many involved greater absurdities than the hypothesis\nof the one. The book was a youthful composition of mine, which was\nstolen from me, and therefore I had no choice about the publication.' 'I\nquite believe you,' said Socrates; 'but will you answer me a question? I\nshould like to know, whether you would assume an idea of likeness in the\nabstract, which is the contradictory of unlikeness in the abstract, by\nparticipation in either or both of which things are like or unlike\nor partly both. For the same things may very well partake of like and\nunlike in the concrete, though like and unlike in the abstract are\nirreconcilable. Nor does there appear to me to be any absurdity in\nmaintaining that the same things may partake of the one and many, though\nI should be indeed surprised to hear that the absolute one is also\nmany. For example, I, being many, that is to say, having many parts or\nmembers, am yet also one, and partake of the one, being one of seven\nwho are here present (compare Philebus). This is not an absurdity, but\na truism. But I should be amazed if there were a similar entanglement in\nthe nature of the ideas themselves, nor can I believe that one and many,\nlike and unlike, rest and motion, in the abstract, are capable either of\nadmixture or of separation.'\n\nPythodorus said that in his opinion Parmenides and Zeno were not very\nwell pleased at the questions which were raised; nevertheless, they\nlooked at one another and smiled in seeming delight and admiration of\nSocrates. 'Tell me,' said Parmenides, 'do you think that the abstract\nideas of likeness, unity, and the rest, exist apart from individuals\nwhich partake of them? and is this your own distinction?' 'I think that\nthere are such ideas.' 'And would you make abstract ideas of the just,\nthe beautiful, the good?' 'Yes,' he said. 'And of human beings like\nourselves, of water, fire, and the like?' 'I am not certain.' 'And would\nyou be undecided also about ideas of which the mention will, perhaps,\nappear laughable: of hair, mud, filth, and other things which are base\nand vile?' 'No, Parmenides; visible things like these are, as I believe,\nonly what they appear to be: though I am sometimes disposed to imagine\nthat there is nothing without an idea; but I repress any such notion,\nfrom a fear of falling into an abyss of nonsense.' 'You are young,\nSocrates, and therefore naturally regard the opinions of men; the time\nwill come when philosophy will have a firmer hold of you, and you will\nnot despise even the meanest things. But tell me, is your meaning that\nthings become like by partaking of likeness, great by partaking of\ngreatness, just and beautiful by partaking of justice and beauty, and\nso of other ideas?' 'Yes, that is my meaning.' 'And do you suppose the\nindividual to partake of the whole, or of the part?' 'Why not of the\nwhole?' said Socrates. 'Because,' said Parmenides, 'in that case the\nwhole, which is one, will become many.' 'Nay,' said Socrates, 'the whole\nmay be like the day, which is one and in many places: in this way\nthe ideas may be one and also many.' 'In the same sort of way,' said\nParmenides, 'as a sail, which is one, may be a cover to many--that is\nyour meaning?' 'Yes.' 'And would you say that each man is covered by the\nwhole sail, or by a part only?' 'By a part.' 'Then the ideas have parts,\nand the objects partake of a part of them only?' 'That seems to follow.'\n'And would you like to say that the ideas are really divisible and yet\nremain one?' 'Certainly not.' 'Would you venture to affirm that great\nobjects have a portion only of greatness transferred to them; or that\nsmall or equal objects are small or equal because they are only portions\nof smallness or equality?' 'Impossible.' 'But how can individuals\nparticipate in ideas, except in the ways which I have mentioned?' 'That\nis not an easy question to answer.' 'I should imagine the conception of\nideas to arise as follows: you see great objects pervaded by a common\nform or idea of greatness, which you abstract.' 'That is quite true.'\n'And supposing you embrace in one view the idea of greatness thus gained\nand the individuals which it comprises, a further idea of greatness\narises, which makes both great; and this may go on to infinity.'\nSocrates replies that the ideas may be thoughts in the mind only; in\nthis case, the consequence would no longer follow. 'But must not the\nthought be of something which is the same in all and is the idea? And\nif the world partakes in the ideas, and the ideas are thoughts, must not\nall things think? Or can thought be without thought?' 'I acknowledge the\nunmeaningness of this,' says Socrates, 'and would rather have recourse\nto the explanation that the ideas are types in nature, and that other\nthings partake of them by becoming like them.' 'But to become like them\nis to be comprehended in the same idea; and the likeness of the idea and\nthe individuals implies another idea of likeness, and another without\nend.' 'Quite true.' 'The theory, then, of participation by likeness\nhas to be given up. You have hardly yet, Socrates, found out the real\ndifficulty of maintaining abstract ideas.' 'What difficulty?' 'The\ngreatest of all perhaps is this: an opponent will argue that the ideas\nare not within the range of human knowledge; and you cannot disprove the\nassertion without a long and laborious demonstration, which he may be\nunable or unwilling to follow. In the first place, neither you nor any\none who maintains the existence of absolute ideas will affirm that they\nare subjective.' 'That would be a contradiction.' 'True; and therefore\nany relation in these ideas is a relation which concerns themselves\nonly; and the objects which are named after them, are relative to one\nanother only, and have nothing to do with the ideas themselves.' 'How do\nyou mean?' said Socrates. 'I may illustrate my meaning in this way: one\nof us has a slave; and the idea of a slave in the abstract is relative\nto the idea of a master in the abstract; this correspondence of ideas,\nhowever, has nothing to do with the particular relation of our slave to\nus.--Do you see my meaning?' 'Perfectly.' 'And absolute knowledge in\nthe same way corresponds to absolute truth and being, and particular\nknowledge to particular truth and being.' Clearly.' 'And there is a\nsubjective knowledge which is of subjective truth, having many kinds,\ngeneral and particular. But the ideas themselves are not subjective, and\ntherefore are not within our ken.' 'They are not.' 'Then the beautiful\nand the good in their own nature are unknown to us?' 'It would seem so.'\n'There is a worse consequence yet.' 'What is that?' 'I think we must\nadmit that absolute knowledge is the most exact knowledge, which we must\ntherefore attribute to God. But then see what follows: God, having\nthis exact knowledge, can have no knowledge of human things, as we\nhave divided the two spheres, and forbidden any passing from one to the\nother:--the gods have knowledge and authority in their world only, as\nwe have in ours.' 'Yet, surely, to deprive God of knowledge is\nmonstrous.'--'These are some of the difficulties which are involved\nin the assumption of absolute ideas; the learner will find them nearly\nimpossible to understand, and the teacher who has to impart them will\nrequire superhuman ability; there will always be a suspicion, either\nthat they have no existence, or are beyond human knowledge.' 'There I\nagree with you,' said Socrates. 'Yet if these difficulties induce you\nto give up universal ideas, what becomes of the mind? and where are the\nreasoning and reflecting powers? philosophy is at an end.' 'I certainly\ndo not see my way.' 'I think,' said Parmenides, 'that this arises out\nof your attempting to define abstractions, such as the good and\nthe beautiful and the just, before you have had sufficient previous\ntraining; I noticed your deficiency when you were talking with\nAristoteles, the day before yesterday. Your enthusiasm is a wonderful\ngift; but I fear that unless you discipline yourself by dialectic\nwhile you are young, truth will elude your grasp.' 'And what kind of\ndiscipline would you recommend?' 'The training which you heard Zeno\npractising; at the same time, I admire your saying to him that you did\nnot care to consider the difficulty in reference to visible objects,\nbut only in relation to ideas.' 'Yes; because I think that in visible\nobjects you may easily show any number of inconsistent consequences.'\n'Yes; and you should consider, not only the consequences which follow\nfrom a given hypothesis, but the consequences also which follow from the\ndenial of the hypothesis. For example, what follows from the assumption\nof the existence of the many, and the counter-argument of what follows\nfrom the denial of the existence of the many: and similarly of likeness\nand unlikeness, motion, rest, generation, corruption, being and not\nbeing. And the consequences must include consequences to the things\nsupposed and to other things, in themselves and in relation to one\nanother, to individuals whom you select, to the many, and to the all;\nthese must be drawn out both on the affirmative and on the negative\nhypothesis,--that is, if you are to train yourself perfectly to the\nintelligence of the truth.' 'What you are suggesting seems to be a\ntremendous process, and one of which I do not quite understand the\nnature,' said Socrates; 'will you give me an example?' 'You must not\nimpose such a task on a man of my years,' said Parmenides. 'Then will\nyou, Zeno?' 'Let us rather,' said Zeno, with a smile, 'ask Parmenides,\nfor the undertaking is a serious one, as he truly says; nor could I urge\nhim to make the attempt, except in a select audience of persons who will\nunderstand him.' The whole party joined in the request.\n\nHere we have, first of all, an unmistakable attack made by the youthful\nSocrates on the paradoxes of Zeno. He perfectly understands their drift,\nand Zeno himself is supposed to admit this. But they appear to him, as\nhe says in the Philebus also, to be rather truisms than paradoxes. For\nevery one must acknowledge the obvious fact, that the body being one\nhas many members, and that, in a thousand ways, the like partakes of\nthe unlike, the many of the one. The real difficulty begins with the\nrelations of ideas in themselves, whether of the one and many, or of\nany other ideas, to one another and to the mind. But this was a problem\nwhich the Eleatic philosophers had never considered; their thoughts had\nnot gone beyond the contradictions of matter, motion, space, and the\nlike.\n\nIt was no wonder that Parmenides and Zeno should hear the novel\nspeculations of Socrates with mixed feelings of admiration and\ndispleasure. He was going out of the received circle of disputation into\na region in which they could hardly follow him. From the crude idea of\nBeing in the abstract, he was about to proceed to universals or general\nnotions. There is no contradiction in material things partaking of the\nideas of one and many; neither is there any contradiction in the ideas\nof one and many, like and unlike, in themselves. But the contradiction\narises when we attempt to conceive ideas in their connexion, or to\nascertain their relation to phenomena. Still he affirms the existence of\nsuch ideas; and this is the position which is now in turn submitted to\nthe criticisms of Parmenides.\n\nTo appreciate truly the character of these criticisms, we must remember\nthe place held by Parmenides in the history of Greek philosophy. He\nis the founder of idealism, and also of dialectic, or, in modern\nphraseology, of metaphysics and logic (Theaet., Soph.). Like Plato,\nhe is struggling after something wider and deeper than satisfied the\ncontemporary Pythagoreans. And Plato with a true instinct recognizes\nhim as his spiritual father, whom he 'revered and honoured more than all\nother philosophers together.' He may be supposed to have thought more\nthan he said, or was able to express. And, although he could not, as\na matter of fact, have criticized the ideas of Plato without an\nanachronism, the criticism is appropriately placed in the mouth of the\nfounder of the ideal philosophy.\n\nThere was probably a time in the life of Plato when the ethical teaching\nof Socrates came into conflict with the metaphysical theories of the\nearlier philosophers, and he sought to supplement the one by the other.\nThe older philosophers were great and awful; and they had the charm of\nantiquity. Something which found a response in his own mind seemed to\nhave been lost as well as gained in the Socratic dialectic. He felt no\nincongruity in the veteran Parmenides correcting the youthful Socrates.\nTwo points in his criticism are especially deserving of notice. First\nof all, Parmenides tries him by the test of consistency. Socrates is\nwilling to assume ideas or principles of the just, the beautiful, the\ngood, and to extend them to man (compare Phaedo); but he is reluctant to\nadmit that there are general ideas of hair, mud, filth, etc. There is an\nethical universal or idea, but is there also a universal of physics?--of\nthe meanest things in the world as well as of the greatest? Parmenides\nrebukes this want of consistency in Socrates, which he attributes to his\nyouth. As he grows older, philosophy will take a firmer hold of him, and\nthen he will despise neither great things nor small, and he will think\nless of the opinions of mankind (compare Soph.). Here is lightly touched\none of the most familiar principles of modern philosophy, that in the\nmeanest operations of nature, as well as in the noblest, in mud and\nfilth, as well as in the sun and stars, great truths are contained. At\nthe same time, we may note also the transition in the mind of Plato,\nto which Aristotle alludes (Met.), when, as he says, he transferred the\nSocratic universal of ethics to the whole of nature.\n\nThe other criticism of Parmenides on Socrates attributes to him a want\nof practice in dialectic. He has observed this deficiency in him when\ntalking to Aristoteles on a previous occasion. Plato seems to imply\nthat there was something more in the dialectic of Zeno than in the mere\ninterrogation of Socrates. Here, again, he may perhaps be describing\nthe process which his own mind went through when he first became more\nintimately acquainted, whether at Megara or elsewhere, with the Eleatic\nand Megarian philosophers. Still, Parmenides does not deny to Socrates\nthe credit of having gone beyond them in seeking to apply the paradoxes\nof Zeno to ideas; and this is the application which he himself makes of\nthem in the latter part of the dialogue. He then proceeds to explain\nto him the sort of mental gymnastic which he should practise. He should\nconsider not only what would follow from a given hypothesis, but what\nwould follow from the denial of it, to that which is the subject of\nthe hypothesis, and to all other things. There is no trace in the\nMemorabilia of Xenophon of any such method being attributed to\nSocrates; nor is the dialectic here spoken of that 'favourite method' of\nproceeding by regular divisions, which is described in the Phaedrus and\nPhilebus, and of which examples are given in the Politicus and in the\nSophist. It is expressly spoken of as the method which Socrates had\nheard Zeno practise in the days of his youth (compare Soph.).\n\nThe discussion of Socrates with Parmenides is one of the most remarkable\npassages in Plato. Few writers have ever been able to anticipate 'the\ncriticism of the morrow' on their favourite notions. But Plato may here\nbe said to anticipate the judgment not only of the morrow, but of\nall after-ages on the Platonic Ideas. For in some points he touches\nquestions which have not yet received their solution in modern\nphilosophy.\n\nThe first difficulty which Parmenides raises respecting the Platonic\nideas relates to the manner in which individuals are connected with\nthem. Do they participate in the ideas, or do they merely resemble them?\nParmenides shows that objections may be urged against either of these\nmodes of conceiving the connection. Things are little by partaking of\nlittleness, great by partaking of greatness, and the like. But they\ncannot partake of a part of greatness, for that will not make them\ngreat, etc.; nor can each object monopolise the whole. The only answer\nto this is, that 'partaking' is a figure of speech, really corresponding\nto the processes which a later logic designates by the terms\n'abstraction' and 'generalization.' When we have described accurately\nthe methods or forms which the mind employs, we cannot further criticize\nthem; at least we can only criticize them with reference to their\nfitness as instruments of thought to express facts.\n\nSocrates attempts to support his view of the ideas by the parallel of\nthe day, which is one and in many places; but he is easily driven from\nhis position by a counter illustration of Parmenides, who compares the\nidea of greatness to a sail. He truly explains to Socrates that he has\nattained the conception of ideas by a process of generalization. At\nthe same time, he points out a difficulty, which appears to be\ninvolved--viz. that the process of generalization will go on to\ninfinity. Socrates meets the supposed difficulty by a flash of light,\nwhich is indeed the true answer 'that the ideas are in our minds\nonly.' Neither realism is the truth, nor nominalism is the truth, but\nconceptualism; and conceptualism or any other psychological theory falls\nvery far short of the infinite subtlety of language and thought.\n\nBut the realism of ancient philosophy will not admit of this answer,\nwhich is repelled by Parmenides with another truth or half-truth of\nlater philosophy, 'Every subject or subjective must have an object.'\nHere is the great though unconscious truth (shall we say?) or error,\nwhich underlay the early Greek philosophy. 'Ideas must have a real\nexistence;' they are not mere forms or opinions, which may be changed\narbitrarily by individuals. But the early Greek philosopher never\nclearly saw that true ideas were only universal facts, and that there\nmight be error in universals as well as in particulars.\n\nSocrates makes one more attempt to defend the Platonic Ideas by\nrepresenting them as paradigms; this is again answered by the\n'argumentum ad infinitum.' We may remark, in passing, that the process\nwhich is thus described has no real existence. The mind, after having\nobtained a general idea, does not really go on to form another which\nincludes that, and all the individuals contained under it, and another\nand another without end. The difficulty belongs in fact to the Megarian\nage of philosophy, and is due to their illogical logic, and to the\ngeneral ignorance of the ancients respecting the part played by language\nin the process of thought. No such perplexity could ever trouble\na modern metaphysician, any more than the fallacy of 'calvus' or\n'acervus,' or of 'Achilles and the tortoise.' These 'surds' of\nmetaphysics ought to occasion no more difficulty in speculation than a\nperpetually recurring fraction in arithmetic.\n\nIt is otherwise with the objection which follows: How are we to bridge\nthe chasm between human truth and absolute truth, between gods and men?\nThis is the difficulty of philosophy in all ages: How can we get beyond\nthe circle of our own ideas, or how, remaining within them, can we have\nany criterion of a truth beyond and independent of them? Parmenides\ndraws out this difficulty with great clearness. According to him, there\nare not only one but two chasms: the first, between individuals and the\nideas which have a common name; the second, between the ideas in us and\nthe ideas absolute. The first of these two difficulties mankind, as\nwe may say, a little parodying the language of the Philebus, have long\nagreed to treat as obsolete; the second remains a difficulty for us as\nwell as for the Greeks of the fourth century before Christ, and is the\nstumbling-block of Kant's Kritik, and of the Hamiltonian adaptation\nof Kant, as well as of the Platonic ideas. It has been said that 'you\ncannot criticize Revelation.' 'Then how do you know what is Revelation,\nor that there is one at all,' is the immediate rejoinder--'You know\nnothing of things in themselves.' 'Then how do you know that there are\nthings in themselves?' In some respects, the difficulty pressed harder\nupon the Greek than upon ourselves. For conceiving of God more under the\nattribute of knowledge than we do, he was more under the necessity\nof separating the divine from the human, as two spheres which had no\ncommunication with one another.\n\nIt is remarkable that Plato, speaking by the mouth of Parmenides,\ndoes not treat even this second class of difficulties as hopeless or\ninsoluble. He says only that they cannot be explained without a long and\nlaborious demonstration: 'The teacher will require superhuman ability,\nand the learner will be hard of understanding.' But an attempt must be\nmade to find an answer to them; for, as Socrates and Parmenides both\nadmit, the denial of abstract ideas is the destruction of the mind. We\ncan easily imagine that among the Greek schools of philosophy in the\nfourth century before Christ a panic might arise from the denial of\nuniversals, similar to that which arose in the last century from Hume's\ndenial of our ideas of cause and effect. Men do not at first recognize\nthat thought, like digestion, will go on much the same, notwithstanding\nany theories which may be entertained respecting the nature of the\nprocess. Parmenides attributes the difficulties in which Socrates is\ninvolved to a want of comprehensiveness in his mode of reasoning; he\nshould consider every question on the negative as well as the positive\nhypothesis, with reference to the consequences which flow from the\ndenial as well as from the assertion of a given statement.\n\nThe argument which follows is the most singular in Plato. It appears\nto be an imitation, or parody, of the Zenonian dialectic, just as the\nspeeches in the Phaedrus are an imitation of the style of Lysias, or as\nthe derivations in the Cratylus or the fallacies of the Euthydemus are\na parody of some contemporary Sophist. The interlocutor is not supposed,\nas in most of the other Platonic dialogues, to take a living part in the\nargument; he is only required to say 'Yes' and 'No' in the right places.\nA hint has been already given that the paradoxes of Zeno admitted of a\nhigher application. This hint is the thread by which Plato connects the\ntwo parts of the dialogue.\n\nThe paradoxes of Parmenides seem trivial to us, because the words to\nwhich they relate have become trivial; their true nature as abstract\nterms is perfectly understood by us, and we are inclined to regard the\ntreatment of them in Plato as a mere straw-splitting, or legerdemain of\nwords. Yet there was a power in them which fascinated the Neoplatonists\nfor centuries afterwards. Something that they found in them, or brought\nto them--some echo or anticipation of a great truth or error, exercised\na wonderful influence over their minds. To do the Parmenides justice, we\nshould imagine similar aporiai raised on themes as sacred to us, as the\nnotions of One or Being were to an ancient Eleatic. 'If God is, what\nfollows? If God is not, what follows?' Or again: If God is or is not the\nworld; or if God is or is not many, or has or has not parts, or is or is\nnot in the world, or in time; or is or is not finite or infinite. Or if\nthe world is or is not; or has or has not a beginning or end; or is or\nis not infinite, or infinitely divisible. Or again: if God is or is not\nidentical with his laws; or if man is or is not identical with the laws\nof nature. We can easily see that here are many subjects for thought,\nand that from these and similar hypotheses questions of great interest\nmight arise. And we also remark, that the conclusions derived from\neither of the two alternative propositions might be equally impossible\nand contradictory.\n\nWhen we ask what is the object of these paradoxes, some have answered\nthat they are a mere logical puzzle, while others have seen in them an\nHegelian propaedeutic of the doctrine of Ideas. The first of these views\nderives support from the manner in which Parmenides speaks of a similar\nmethod being applied to all Ideas. Yet it is hard to suppose that Plato\nwould have furnished so elaborate an example, not of his own but of\nthe Eleatic dialectic, had he intended only to give an illustration of\nmethod. The second view has been often overstated by those who, like\nHegel himself, have tended to confuse ancient with modern philosophy.\nWe need not deny that Plato, trained in the school of Cratylus and\nHeracleitus, may have seen that a contradiction in terms is sometimes\nthe best expression of a truth higher than either (compare Soph.). But\nhis ideal theory is not based on antinomies. The correlation of Ideas\nwas the metaphysical difficulty of the age in which he lived; and the\nMegarian and Cynic philosophy was a 'reductio ad absurdum' of their\nisolation. To restore them to their natural connexion and to detect the\nnegative element in them is the aim of Plato in the Sophist. But his\nview of their connexion falls very far short of the Hegelian identity\nof Being and Not-being. The Being and Not-being of Plato never merge in\neach other, though he is aware that 'determination is only negation.'\n\nAfter criticizing the hypotheses of others, it may appear presumptuous\nto add another guess to the many which have been already offered. May we\nsay, in Platonic language, that we still seem to see vestiges of a track\nwhich has not yet been taken? It is quite possible that the obscurity\nof the Parmenides would not have existed to a contemporary student of\nphilosophy, and, like the similar difficulty in the Philebus, is\nreally due to our ignorance of the mind of the age. There is an obscure\nMegarian influence on Plato which cannot wholly be cleared up, and is\nnot much illustrated by the doubtful tradition of his retirement to\nMegara after the death of Socrates. For Megara was within a walk of\nAthens (Phaedr.), and Plato might have learned the Megarian doctrines\nwithout settling there.\n\nWe may begin by remarking that the theses of Parmenides are expressly\nsaid to follow the method of Zeno, and that the complex dilemma, though\ndeclared to be capable of universal application, is applied in this\ninstance to Zeno's familiar question of the 'one and many.' Here, then,\nis a double indication of the connexion of the Parmenides with the\nEristic school. The old Eleatics had asserted the existence of Being,\nwhich they at first regarded as finite, then as infinite, then as\nneither finite nor infinite, to which some of them had given what\nAristotle calls 'a form,' others had ascribed a material nature only.\nThe tendency of their philosophy was to deny to Being all predicates.\nThe Megarians, who succeeded them, like the Cynics, affirmed that no\npredicate could be asserted of any subject; they also converted the\nidea of Being into an abstraction of Good, perhaps with the view of\npreserving a sort of neutrality or indifference between the mind and\nthings. As if they had said, in the language of modern philosophy:\n'Being is not only neither finite nor infinite, neither at rest nor in\nmotion, but neither subjective nor objective.'\n\nThis is the track along which Plato is leading us. Zeno had attempted to\nprove the existence of the one by disproving the existence of the many,\nand Parmenides seems to aim at proving the existence of the subject\nby showing the contradictions which follow from the assertion of any\npredicates. Take the simplest of all notions, 'unity'; you cannot even\nassert being or time of this without involving a contradiction. But is\nthe contradiction also the final conclusion? Probably no more than of\nZeno's denial of the many, or of Parmenides' assault upon the Ideas; no\nmore than of the earlier dialogues 'of search.' To us there seems to\nbe no residuum of this long piece of dialectics. But to the mind of\nParmenides and Plato, 'Gott-betrunkene Menschen,' there still remained\nthe idea of 'being' or 'good,' which could not be conceived, defined,\nuttered, but could not be got rid of. Neither of them would have\nimagined that their disputation ever touched the Divine Being (compare\nPhil.). The same difficulties about Unity and Being are raised in the\nSophist; but there only as preliminary to their final solution.\n\nIf this view is correct, the real aim of the hypotheses of Parmenides\nis to criticize the earlier Eleatic philosophy from the point of view of\nZeno or the Megarians. It is the same kind of criticism which Plato has\nextended to his own doctrine of Ideas. Nor is there any want of poetical\nconsistency in attributing to the 'father Parmenides' the last review\nof the Eleatic doctrines. The latest phases of all philosophies were\nfathered upon the founder of the school.\n\nOther critics have regarded the final conclusion of the Parmenides\neither as sceptical or as Heracleitean. In the first case, they assume\nthat Plato means to show the impossibility of any truth. But this is not\nthe spirit of Plato, and could not with propriety be put into the mouth\nof Parmenides, who, in this very dialogue, is urging Socrates, not to\ndoubt everything, but to discipline his mind with a view to the more\nprecise attainment of truth. The same remark applies to the second of\nthe two theories. Plato everywhere ridicules (perhaps unfairly) his\nHeracleitean contemporaries: and if he had intended to support an\nHeracleitean thesis, would hardly have chosen Parmenides, the condemner\nof the 'undiscerning tribe who say that things both are and are not,'\nto be the speaker. Nor, thirdly, can we easily persuade ourselves with\nZeller that by the 'one' he means the Idea; and that he is seeking to\nprove indirectly the unity of the Idea in the multiplicity of phenomena.\n\nWe may now endeavour to thread the mazes of the labyrinth which\nParmenides knew so well, and trembled at the thought of them.\n\nThe argument has two divisions: There is the hypothesis that\n\n     1.  One is.\n     2.  One is not.\n     If one is, it is nothing.\n     If one is not, it is everything.\n\n     But is and is not may be taken in two senses:\n     Either one is one,\n     Or, one has being,\n\n     from which opposite consequences are deduced,\n     1.a.  If one is one, it is nothing.\n     1.b.  If one has being, it is all things.\n\n     To which are appended two subordinate consequences:\n     1.aa.  If one has being, all other things are.\n     1.bb.  If one is one, all other things are not.\n\n     The same distinction is then applied to the negative hypothesis:\n     2.a.  If one is not one, it is all things.\n     2.b.  If one has not being, it is nothing.\n\n     Involving two parallel consequences respecting the other or remainder:\n     2.aa.  If one is not one, other things are all.\n     2.bb.  If one has not being, other things are not.\n\n\n.....\n\n'I cannot refuse,' said Parmenides, 'since, as Zeno remarks, we are\nalone, though I may say with Ibycus, who in his old age fell in love, I,\nlike the old racehorse, tremble at the prospect of the course which I am\nto run, and which I know so well. But as I must attempt this laborious\ngame, what shall be the subject? Suppose I take my own hypothesis of\nthe one.' 'By all means,' said Zeno. 'And who will answer me? Shall I\npropose the youngest? he will be the most likely to say what he thinks,\nand his answers will give me time to breathe.' 'I am the youngest,' said\nAristoteles, 'and at your service; proceed with your questions.'--The\nresult may be summed up as follows:--\n\n1.a. One is not many, and therefore has no parts, and therefore is not\na whole, which is a sum of parts, and therefore has neither beginning,\nmiddle, nor end, and is therefore unlimited, and therefore formless,\nbeing neither round nor straight, for neither round nor straight can be\ndefined without assuming that they have parts; and therefore is not in\nplace, whether in another which would encircle and touch the one at\nmany points; or in itself, because that which is self-containing is also\ncontained, and therefore not one but two. This being premised, let us\nconsider whether one is capable either of motion or rest. For motion is\neither change of substance, or motion on an axis, or from one place to\nanother. But the one is incapable of change of substance, which implies\nthat it ceases to be itself, or of motion on an axis, because there\nwould be parts around the axis; and any other motion involves change of\nplace. But existence in place has been already shown to be impossible;\nand yet more impossible is coming into being in place, which implies\npartial existence in two places at once, or entire existence neither\nwithin nor without the same; and how can this be? And more impossible\nstill is the coming into being either as a whole or parts of that which\nis neither a whole nor parts. The one, then, is incapable of motion.\nBut neither can the one be in anything, and therefore not in the same,\nwhether itself or some other, and is therefore incapable of rest.\nNeither is one the same with itself or any other, or other than itself\nor any other. For if other than itself, then other than one, and\ntherefore not one; and, if the same with other, it would be other, and\nother than one. Neither can one while remaining one be other than other;\nfor other, and not one, is the other than other. But if not other by\nvirtue of being one, not by virtue of itself; and if not by virtue\nof itself, not itself other, and if not itself other, not other than\nanything. Neither will one be the same with itself. For the nature of\nthe same is not that of the one, but a thing which becomes the same with\nanything does not become one; for example, that which becomes the same\nwith the many becomes many and not one. And therefore if the one is the\nsame with itself, the one is not one with itself; and therefore one and\nnot one. And therefore one is neither other than other, nor the same\nwith itself. Neither will the one be like or unlike itself or other;\nfor likeness is sameness of affections, and the one and the same are\ndifferent. And one having any affection which is other than being one\nwould be more than one. The one, then, cannot have the same affection\nwith and therefore cannot be like itself or other; nor can the one\nhave any other affection than its own, that is, be unlike itself or any\nother, for this would imply that it was more than one. The one, then,\nis neither like nor unlike itself or other. This being the case, neither\ncan the one be equal or unequal to itself or other. For equality implies\nsameness of measure, as inequality implies a greater or less number\nof measures. But the one, not having sameness, cannot have sameness of\nmeasure; nor a greater or less number of measures, for that would imply\nparts and multitude. Once more, can one be older or younger than itself\nor other? or of the same age with itself or other? That would imply\nlikeness and unlikeness, equality and inequality. Therefore one cannot\nbe in time, because that which is in time is ever becoming older and\nyounger than itself, (for older and younger are relative terms, and he\nwho becomes older becomes younger,) and is also of the same age with\nitself. None of which, or any other expressions of time, whether past,\nfuture, or present, can be affirmed of one. One neither is, has been,\nnor will be, nor becomes, nor has, nor will become. And, as these are\nthe only modes of being, one is not, and is not one. But to that which\nis not, there is no attribute or relative, neither name nor word nor\nidea nor science nor perception nor opinion appertaining. One, then, is\nneither named, nor uttered, nor known, nor perceived, nor imagined. But\ncan all this be true? 'I think not.'\n\n1.b. Let us, however, commence the inquiry again. We have to work out\nall the consequences which follow on the assumption that the one is. If\none is, one partakes of being, which is not the same with one; the words\n'being' and 'one' have different meanings. Observe the consequence: In\nthe one of being or the being of one are two parts, being and one, which\nform one whole. And each of the two parts is also a whole, and involves\nthe other, and may be further subdivided into one and being, and is\ntherefore not one but two; and thus one is never one, and in this way\nthe one, if it is, becomes many and infinite. Again, let us conceive\nof a one which by an effort of abstraction we separate from being: will\nthis abstract one be one or many? You say one only; let us see. In the\nfirst place, the being of one is other than one; and one and being,\nif different, are so because they both partake of the nature of other,\nwhich is therefore neither one nor being; and whether we take being\nand other, or being and one, or one and other, in any case we have two\nthings which separately are called either, and together both. And both\nare two and either of two is severally one, and if one be added to any\nof the pairs, the sum is three; and two is an even number, three an odd;\nand two units exist twice, and therefore there are twice two; and three\nunits exist thrice, and therefore there are thrice three, and taken\ntogether they give twice three and thrice two: we have even numbers\nmultiplied into even, and odd into even, and even into odd numbers. But\nif one is, and both odd and even numbers are implied in one, must not\nevery number exist? And number is infinite, and therefore existence must\nbe infinite, for all and every number partakes of being; therefore\nbeing has the greatest number of parts, and every part, however great or\nhowever small, is equally one. But can one be in many places and yet be\na whole? If not a whole it must be divided into parts and represented\nby a number corresponding to the number of the parts. And if so, we were\nwrong in saying that being has the greatest number of parts; for being\nis coequal and coextensive with one, and has no more parts than one; and\nso the abstract one broken up into parts by being is many and infinite.\nBut the parts are parts of a whole, and the whole is their containing\nlimit, and the one is therefore limited as well as infinite in number;\nand that which is a whole has beginning, middle, and end, and a middle\nis equidistant from the extremes; and one is therefore of a certain\nfigure, round or straight, or a combination of the two, and being a\nwhole includes all the parts which are the whole, and is therefore\nself-contained. But then, again, the whole is not in the parts, whether\nall or some. Not in all, because, if in all, also in one; for, if\nwanting in any one, how in all?--not in some, because the greater would\nthen be contained in the less. But if not in all, nor in any, nor in\nsome, either nowhere or in other. And if nowhere, nothing; therefore in\nother. The one as a whole, then, is in another, but regarded as a sum\nof parts is in itself; and is, therefore, both in itself and in another.\nThis being the case, the one is at once both at rest and in motion: at\nrest, because resting in itself; in motion, because it is ever in other.\nAnd if there is truth in what has preceded, one is the same and not the\nsame with itself and other. For everything in relation to every other\nthing is either the same with it or other; or if neither the same nor\nother, then in the relation of part to a whole or whole to a part. But\none cannot be a part or whole in relation to one, nor other than\none; and is therefore the same with one. Yet this sameness is again\ncontradicted by one being in another place from itself which is in the\nsame place; this follows from one being in itself and in another; one,\ntherefore, is other than itself. But if anything is other than anything,\nwill it not be other than other? And the not one is other than the one,\nand the one than the not one; therefore one is other than all others.\nBut the same and the other exclude one another, and therefore the other\ncan never be in the same; nor can the other be in anything for ever so\nshort a time, as for that time the other will be in the same. And the\nother, if never in the same, cannot be either in the one or in the not\none. And one is not other than not one, either by reason of other or\nof itself; and therefore they are not other than one another at all.\nNeither can the not one partake or be part of one, for in that case it\nwould be one; nor can the not one be number, for that also involves one.\nAnd therefore, not being other than the one or related to the one as\na whole to parts or parts to a whole, not one is the same as one.\nWherefore the one is the same and also not the same with the others\nand also with itself; and is therefore like and unlike itself and the\nothers, and just as different from the others as they are from the one,\nneither more nor less. But if neither more nor less, equally different;\nand therefore the one and the others have the same relations. This may\nbe illustrated by the case of names: when you repeat the same name twice\nover, you mean the same thing; and when you say that the other is other\nthan the one, or the one other than the other, this very word other\n(eteron), which is attributed to both, implies sameness. One, then, as\nbeing other than others, and other as being other than one, are alike in\nthat they have the relation of otherness; and likeness is similarity\nof relations. And everything as being other of everything is also like\neverything. Again, same and other, like and unlike, are opposites: and\nsince in virtue of being other than the others the one is like them, in\nvirtue of being the same it must be unlike. Again, one, as having the\nsame relations, has no difference of relation, and is therefore not\nunlike, and therefore like; or, as having different relations, is\ndifferent and unlike. Thus, one, as being the same and not the same with\nitself and others--for both these reasons and for either of them--is\nalso like and unlike itself and the others. Again, how far can one touch\nitself and the others? As existing in others, it touches the others; and\nas existing in itself, touches only itself. But from another point of\nview, that which touches another must be next in order of place; one,\ntherefore, must be next in order of place to itself, and would therefore\nbe two, and in two places. But one cannot be two, and therefore cannot\nbe in contact with itself. Nor again can one touch the other. Two\nobjects are required to make one contact; three objects make two\ncontacts; and all the objects in the world, if placed in a series, would\nhave as many contacts as there are objects, less one. But if one only\nexists, and not two, there is no contact. And the others, being other\nthan one, have no part in one, and therefore none in number, and\ntherefore two has no existence, and therefore there is no contact.\nFor all which reasons, one has and has not contact with itself and the\nothers.\n\nOnce more, Is one equal and unequal to itself and the others? Suppose\none and the others to be greater or less than each other or equal to one\nanother, they will be greater or less or equal by reason of equality or\ngreatness or smallness inhering in them in addition to their own proper\nnature. Let us begin by assuming smallness to be inherent in one: in\nthis case the inherence is either in the whole or in a part. If the\nfirst, smallness is either coextensive with the whole one, or contains\nthe whole, and, if coextensive with the one, is equal to the one, or\nif containing the one will be greater than the one. But smallness thus\nperforms the function of equality or of greatness, which is impossible.\nAgain, if the inherence be in a part, the same contradiction follows:\nsmallness will be equal to the part or greater than the part; therefore\nsmallness will not inhere in anything, and except the idea of smallness\nthere will be nothing small. Neither will greatness; for greatness will\nhave a greater;--and there will be no small in relation to which it is\ngreat. And there will be no great or small in objects, but greatness\nand smallness will be relative only to each other; therefore the others\ncannot be greater or less than the one; also the one can neither exceed\nnor be exceeded by the others, and they are therefore equal to one\nanother. And this will be true also of the one in relation to itself:\none will be equal to itself as well as to the others (talla). Yet one,\nbeing in itself, must also be about itself, containing and contained,\nand is therefore greater and less than itself. Further, there is nothing\nbeside the one and the others; and as these must be in something, they\nmust therefore be in one another; and as that in which a thing is is\ngreater than the thing, the inference is that they are both greater and\nless than one another, because containing and contained in one another.\nTherefore the one is equal to and greater and less than itself or other,\nhaving also measures or parts or numbers equal to or greater or less\nthan itself or other.\n\nBut does one partake of time? This must be acknowledged, if the one\npartakes of being. For 'to be' is the participation of being in present\ntime, 'to have been' in past, 'to be about to be' in future time. And\nas time is ever moving forward, the one becomes older than itself; and\ntherefore younger than itself; and is older and also younger when in the\nprocess of becoming it arrives at the present; and it is always older\nand younger, for at any moment the one is, and therefore it becomes\nand is not older and younger than itself but during an equal time with\nitself, and is therefore contemporary with itself.\n\nAnd what are the relations of the one to the others? Is it or does it\nbecome older or younger than they? At any rate the others are more than\none, and one, being the least of all numbers, must be prior in time to\ngreater numbers. But on the other hand, one must come into being in a\nmanner accordant with its own nature. Now one has parts or others, and\nhas therefore a beginning, middle, and end, of which the beginning is\nfirst and the end last. And the parts come into existence first; last of\nall the whole, contemporaneously with the end, being therefore younger,\nwhile the parts or others are older than the one. But, again, the one\ncomes into being in each of the parts as much as in the whole, and must\nbe of the same age with them. Therefore one is at once older and younger\nthan the parts or others, and also contemporaneous with them, for no\npart can be a part which is not one. Is this true of becoming as well as\nbeing? Thus much may be affirmed, that the same things which are older\nor younger cannot become older or younger in a greater degree than they\nwere at first by the addition of equal times. But, on the other hand,\nthe one, if older than others, has come into being a longer time than\nthey have. And when equal time is added to a longer and shorter, the\nrelative difference between them is diminished. In this way that which\nwas older becomes younger, and that which was younger becomes older,\nthat is to say, younger and older than at first; and they ever become\nand never have become, for then they would be. Thus the one and others\nalways are and are becoming and not becoming younger and also older than\none another. And one, partaking of time and also partaking of becoming\nolder and younger, admits of all time, present, past, and future--was,\nis, shall be--was becoming, is becoming, will become. And there is\nscience of the one, and opinion and name and expression, as is already\nimplied in the fact of our inquiry.\n\nYet once more, if one be one and many, and neither one nor many, and\nalso participant of time, must there not be a time at which one as being\none partakes of being, and a time when one as not being one is deprived\nof being? But these two contradictory states cannot be experienced\nby the one both together: there must be a time of transition. And the\ntransition is a process of generation and destruction, into and from\nbeing and not-being, the one and the others. For the generation of the\none is the destruction of the others, and the generation of the others\nis the destruction of the one. There is also separation and aggregation,\nassimilation and dissimilation, increase, diminution, equalization,\na passage from motion to rest, and from rest to motion in the one and\nmany. But when do all these changes take place? When does motion become\nrest, or rest motion? The answer to this question will throw a light\nupon all the others. Nothing can be in motion and at rest at the same\ntime; and therefore the change takes place 'in a moment'--which is a\nstrange expression, and seems to mean change in no time. Which is true\nalso of all the other changes, which likewise take place in no time.\n\n1.aa. But if one is, what happens to the others, which in the first\nplace are not one, yet may partake of one in a certain way? The others\nare other than the one because they have parts, for if they had no parts\nthey would be simply one, and parts imply a whole to which they belong;\notherwise each part would be a part of many, and being itself one of\nthem, of itself, and if a part of all, of each one of the other parts,\nwhich is absurd. For a part, if not a part of one, must be a part of\nall but this one, and if so not a part of each one; and if not a part\nof each one, not a part of any one of many, and so not of one; and if of\nnone, how of all? Therefore a part is neither a part of many nor of\nall, but of an absolute and perfect whole or one. And if the others have\nparts, they must partake of the whole, and must be the whole of which\nthey are the parts. And each part, as the word 'each' implies, is also\nan absolute one. And both the whole and the parts partake of one, for\nthe whole of which the parts are parts is one, and each part is one part\nof the whole; and whole and parts as participating in one are other\nthan one, and as being other than one are many and infinite; and however\nsmall a fraction you separate from them is many and not one. Yet the\nfact of their being parts furnishes the others with a limit towards\nother parts and towards the whole; they are finite and also infinite:\nfinite through participation in the one, infinite in their own nature.\nAnd as being finite, they are alike; and as being infinite, they are\nalike; but as being both finite and also infinite, they are in the\nhighest degree unlike. And all other opposites might without difficulty\nbe shown to unite in them.\n\n1.bb. Once more, leaving all this: Is there not also an opposite series\nof consequences which is equally true of the others, and may be deduced\nfrom the existence of one? There is. One is distinct from the others,\nand the others from one; for one and the others are all things, and\nthere is no third existence besides them. And the whole of one cannot\nbe in others nor parts of it, for it is separated from others and has\nno parts, and therefore the others have no unity, nor plurality, nor\nduality, nor any other number, nor any opposition or distinction, such\nas likeness and unlikeness, some and other, generation and corruption,\nodd and even. For if they had these they would partake either of one\nopposite, and this would be a participation in one; or of two opposites,\nand this would be a participation in two. Thus if one exists, one is all\nthings, and likewise nothing, in relation to one and to the others.\n\n2.a. But, again, assume the opposite hypothesis, that the one is not,\nand what is the consequence? In the first place, the proposition, that\none is not, is clearly opposed to the proposition, that not one is not.\nThe subject of any negative proposition implies at once knowledge and\ndifference. Thus 'one' in the proposition--'The one is not,' must be\nsomething known, or the words would be unintelligible; and again this\n'one which is not' is something different from other things. Moreover,\nthis and that, some and other, may be all attributed or related to\nthe one which is not, and which though non-existent may and must have\nplurality, if the one only is non-existent and nothing else; but if all\nis not-being there is nothing which can be spoken of. Also the one which\nis not differs, and is different in kind from the others, and therefore\nunlike them; and they being other than the one, are unlike the one,\nwhich is therefore unlike them. But one, being unlike other, must be\nlike itself; for the unlikeness of one to itself is the destruction of\nthe hypothesis; and one cannot be equal to the others; for that would\nsuppose being in the one, and the others would be equal to one and like\none; both which are impossible, if one does not exist. The one which\nis not, then, if not equal is unequal to the others, and in equality\nimplies great and small, and equality lies between great and small, and\ntherefore the one which is not partakes of equality. Further, the one\nwhich is not has being; for that which is true is, and it is true that\nthe one is not. And so the one which is not, if remitting aught of the\nbeing of non-existence, would become existent. For not being implies the\nbeing of not-being, and being the not-being of not-being; or more truly\nbeing partakes of the being of being and not of the being of not-being,\nand not-being of the being of not-being and not of the not-being\nof not-being. And therefore the one which is not has being and also\nnot-being. And the union of being and not-being involves change or\nmotion. But how can not-being, which is nowhere, move or change, either\nfrom one place to another or in the same place? And whether it is or is\nnot, it would cease to be one if experiencing a change of substance. The\none which is not, then, is both in motion and at rest, is altered and\nunaltered, and becomes and is destroyed, and does not become and is not\ndestroyed.\n\n2.b. Once more, let us ask the question, If one is not, what happens in\nregard to one? The expression 'is not' implies negation of being:--do we\nmean by this to say that a thing, which is not, in a certain sense is?\nor do we mean absolutely to deny being of it? The latter. Then the one\nwhich is not can neither be nor become nor perish nor experience change\nof substance or place. Neither can rest, or motion, or greatness, or\nsmallness, or equality, or unlikeness, or likeness either to itself or\nother, or attribute or relation, or now or hereafter or formerly, or\nknowledge or opinion or perception or name or anything else be asserted\nof that which is not.\n\n2.aa. Once more, if one is not, what becomes of the others? If we\nspeak of them they must be, and their very name implies difference, and\ndifference implies relation, not to the one, which is not, but to\none another. And they are others of each other not as units but\nas infinities, the least of which is also infinity, and capable of\ninfinitesimal division. And they will have no unity or number, but only\na semblance of unity and number; and the least of them will appear large\nand manifold in comparison with the infinitesimal fractions into which\nit may be divided. Further, each particle will have the appearance of\nbeing equal with the fractions. For in passing from the greater to the\nless it must reach an intermediate point, which is equality. Moreover,\neach particle although having a limit in relation to itself and to other\nparticles, yet it has neither beginning, middle, nor end; for there is\nalways a beginning before the beginning, and a middle within the middle,\nand an end beyond the end, because the infinitesimal division is never\narrested by the one. Thus all being is one at a distance, and broken\nup when near, and like at a distance and unlike when near; and also the\nparticles which compose being seem to be like and unlike, in rest and\nmotion, in generation and corruption, in contact and separation, if one\nis not.\n\n2.bb. Once more, let us inquire, If the one is not, and the others of\nthe one are, what follows? In the first place, the others will not be\nthe one, nor the many, for in that case the one would be contained in\nthem; neither will they appear to be one or many; because they have no\ncommunion or participation in that which is not, nor semblance of that\nwhich is not. If one is not, the others neither are, nor appear to be\none or many, like or unlike, in contact or separation. In short, if one\nis not, nothing is.\n\nThe result of all which is, that whether one is or is not, one and the\nothers, in relation to themselves and to one another, are and are not,\nand appear to be and appear not to be, in all manner of ways.\n\nI. On the first hypothesis we may remark: first, That one is one is\nan identical proposition, from which we might expect that no further\nconsequences could be deduced. The train of consequences which follows,\nis inferred by altering the predicate into 'not many.' Yet, perhaps, if\na strict Eristic had been present, oios aner ei kai nun paren, he might\nhave affirmed that the not many presented a different aspect of the\nconception from the one, and was therefore not identical with it. Such\na subtlety would be very much in character with the Zenonian dialectic.\nSecondly, We may note, that the conclusion is really involved in the\npremises. For one is conceived as one, in a sense which excludes all\npredicates. When the meaning of one has been reduced to a point, there\nis no use in saying that it has neither parts nor magnitude. Thirdly,\nThe conception of the same is, first of all, identified with the one;\nand then by a further analysis distinguished from, and even opposed to\nit. Fourthly, We may detect notions, which have reappeared in modern\nphilosophy, e.g. the bare abstraction of undefined unity, answering to\nthe Hegelian 'Seyn,' or the identity of contradictions 'that which is\nolder is also younger,' etc., or the Kantian conception of an a priori\nsynthetical proposition 'one is.'\n\nII. In the first series of propositions the word 'is' is really the\ncopula; in the second, the verb of existence. As in the first series,\nthe negative consequence followed from one being affirmed to be\nequivalent to the not many; so here the affirmative consequence is\ndeduced from one being equivalent to the many.\n\nIn the former case, nothing could be predicated of the one, but now\neverything--multitude, relation, place, time, transition. One is\nregarded in all the aspects of one, and with a reference to all the\nconsequences which flow, either from the combination or the separation\nof them. The notion of transition involves the singular extra-temporal\nconception of 'suddenness.' This idea of 'suddenness' is based upon the\ncontradiction which is involved in supposing that anything can be in two\nplaces at once. It is a mere fiction; and we may observe that similar\nantinomies have led modern philosophers to deny the reality of time and\nspace. It is not the infinitesimal of time, but the negative of time.\nBy the help of this invention the conception of change, which sorely\nexercised the minds of early thinkers, seems to be, but is not really\nat all explained. The difficulty arises out of the imperfection of\nlanguage, and should therefore be no longer regarded as a difficulty at\nall. The only way of meeting it, if it exists, is to acknowledge that\nthis rather puzzling double conception is necessary to the expression\nof the phenomena of motion or change, and that this and similar double\nnotions, instead of being anomalies, are among the higher and more\npotent instruments of human thought.\n\nThe processes by which Parmenides obtains his remarkable results may be\nsummed up as follows: (1) Compound or correlative ideas which involve\neach other, such as, being and not-being, one and many, are conceived\nsometimes in a state of composition, and sometimes of division: (2) The\ndivision or distinction is sometimes heightened into total opposition,\ne.g. between one and same, one and other: or (3) The idea, which has\nbeen already divided, is regarded, like a number, as capable of further\ninfinite subdivision: (4) The argument often proceeds 'a dicto secundum\nquid ad dictum simpliciter' and conversely: (5) The analogy of opposites\nis misused by him; he argues indiscriminately sometimes from what is\nlike, sometimes from what is unlike in them: (6) The idea of being or\nnot-being is identified with existence or non-existence in place\nor time: (7) The same ideas are regarded sometimes as in process of\ntransition, sometimes as alternatives or opposites: (8) There are no\ndegrees or kinds of sameness, likeness, difference, nor any adequate\nconception of motion or change: (9) One, being, time, like space in\nZeno's puzzle of Achilles and the tortoise, are regarded sometimes as\ncontinuous and sometimes as discrete: (10) In some parts of the argument\nthe abstraction is so rarefied as to become not only fallacious, but\nalmost unintelligible, e.g. in the contradiction which is elicited out\nof the relative terms older and younger: (11) The relation between two\nterms is regarded under contradictory aspects, as for example when\nthe existence of the one and the non-existence of the one are equally\nassumed to involve the existence of the many: (12) Words are used\nthrough long chains of argument, sometimes loosely, sometimes with the\nprecision of numbers or of geometrical figures.\n\nThe argument is a very curious piece of work, unique in literature.\nIt seems to be an exposition or rather a 'reductio ad absurdum' of the\nMegarian philosophy, but we are too imperfectly acquainted with this\nlast to speak with confidence about it. It would be safer to say that it\nis an indication of the sceptical, hyperlogical fancies which prevailed\namong the contemporaries of Socrates. It throws an indistinct light upon\nAristotle, and makes us aware of the debt which the world owes to him or\nhis school. It also bears a resemblance to some modern speculations, in\nwhich an attempt is made to narrow language in such a manner that number\nand figure may be made a calculus of thought. It exaggerates one side\nof logic and forgets the rest. It has the appearance of a mathematical\nprocess; the inventor of it delights, as mathematicians do, in eliciting\nor discovering an unexpected result. It also helps to guard us against\nsome fallacies by showing the consequences which flow from them.\n\nIn the Parmenides we seem to breathe the spirit of the Megarian\nphilosophy, though we cannot compare the two in detail. But Plato also\ngoes beyond his Megarian contemporaries; he has split their straws over\nagain, and admitted more than they would have desired. He is indulging\nthe analytical tendencies of his age, which can divide but not combine.\nAnd he does not stop to inquire whether the distinctions which he makes\nare shadowy and fallacious, but 'whither the argument blows' he follows.\n\nIII. The negative series of propositions contains the first conception\nof the negation of a negation. Two minus signs in arithmetic or algebra\nmake a plus. Two negatives destroy each other. This abstruse notion is\nthe foundation of the Hegelian logic. The mind must not only admit\nthat determination is negation, but must get through negation into\naffirmation. Whether this process is real, or in any way an assistance\nto thought, or, like some other logical forms, a mere figure of speech\ntransferred from the sphere of mathematics, may be doubted. That Plato\nand the most subtle philosopher of the nineteenth century should have\nlighted upon the same notion, is a singular coincidence of ancient and\nmodern thought.\n\nIV. The one and the many or others are reduced to their strictest\narithmetical meaning. That one is three or three one, is a proposition\nwhich has, perhaps, given rise to more controversy in the world than\nany other. But no one has ever meant to say that three and one are to be\ntaken in the same sense. Whereas the one and many of the Parmenides have\nprecisely the same meaning; there is no notion of one personality or\nsubstance having many attributes or qualities. The truth seems to\nbe rather the opposite of that which Socrates implies: There is no\ncontradiction in the concrete, but in the abstract; and the more\nabstract the idea, the more palpable will be the contradiction. For just\nas nothing can persuade us that the number one is the number three, so\nneither can we be persuaded that any abstract idea is identical with\nits opposite, although they may both inhere together in some external\nobject, or some more comprehensive conception. Ideas, persons, things\nmay be one in one sense and many in another, and may have various\ndegrees of unity and plurality. But in whatever sense and in whatever\ndegree they are one they cease to be many; and in whatever degree or\nsense they are many they cease to be one.\n\nTwo points remain to be considered: 1st, the connexion between the first\nand second parts of the dialogue; 2ndly, the relation of the Parmenides\nto the other dialogues.\n\nI. In both divisions of the dialogue the principal speaker is the same,\nand the method pursued by him is also the same, being a criticism on\nreceived opinions: first, on the doctrine of Ideas; secondly, of Being.\nFrom the Platonic Ideas we naturally proceed to the Eleatic One or Being\nwhich is the foundation of them. They are the same philosophy in two\nforms, and the simpler form is the truer and deeper. For the Platonic\nIdeas are mere numerical differences, and the moment we attempt to\ndistinguish between them, their transcendental character is lost; ideas\nof justice, temperance, and good, are really distinguishable only with\nreference to their application in the world. If we once ask how they\nare related to individuals or to the ideas of the divine mind, they are\nagain merged in the aboriginal notion of Being. No one can answer the\nquestions which Parmenides asks of Socrates. And yet these questions are\nasked with the express acknowledgment that the denial of ideas will be\nthe destruction of the human mind. The true answer to the difficulty\nhere thrown out is the establishment of a rational psychology; and\nthis is a work which is commenced in the Sophist. Plato, in urging the\ndifficulty of his own doctrine of Ideas, is far from denying that some\ndoctrine of Ideas is necessary, and for this he is paving the way.\n\nIn a similar spirit he criticizes the Eleatic doctrine of Being, not\nintending to deny Ontology, but showing that the old Eleatic notion,\nand the very name 'Being,' is unable to maintain itself against the\nsubtleties of the Megarians. He did not mean to say that Being or\nSubstance had no existence, but he is preparing for the development\nof his later view, that ideas were capable of relation. The fact that\ncontradictory consequences follow from the existence or non-existence\nof one or many, does not prove that they have or have not existence,\nbut rather that some different mode of conceiving them is required.\nParmenides may still have thought that 'Being was,' just as Kant would\nhave asserted the existence of 'things in themselves,' while denying the\ntranscendental use of the Categories.\n\nSeveral lesser links also connect the first and second parts of the\ndialogue: (1) The thesis is the same as that which Zeno has been already\ndiscussing: (2) Parmenides has intimated in the first part, that the\nmethod of Zeno should, as Socrates desired, be extended to Ideas: (3)\nThe difficulty of participating in greatness, smallness, equality is\nurged against the Ideas as well as against the One.\n\nII. The Parmenides is not only a criticism of the Eleatic notion of\nBeing, but also of the methods of reasoning then in existence, and\nin this point of view, as well as in the other, may be regarded as an\nintroduction to the Sophist. Long ago, in the Euthydemus, the vulgar\napplication of the 'both and neither' Eristic had been subjected to a\nsimilar criticism, which there takes the form of banter and irony, here\nof illustration.\n\nThe attack upon the Ideas is resumed in the Philebus, and is followed\nby a return to a more rational philosophy. The perplexity of the One and\nMany is there confined to the region of Ideas, and replaced by a theory\nof classification; the Good arranged in classes is also contrasted with\nthe barren abstraction of the Megarians. The war is carried on against\nthe Eristics in all the later dialogues, sometimes with a playful irony,\nat other times with a sort of contempt. But there is no lengthened\nrefutation of them. The Parmenides belongs to that stage of the\ndialogues of Plato in which he is partially under their influence, using\nthem as a sort of 'critics or diviners' of the truth of his own, and of\nthe Eleatic theories. In the Theaetetus a similar negative dialectic\nis employed in the attempt to define science, which after every effort\nremains undefined still. The same question is revived from the objective\nside in the Sophist: Being and Not-being are no longer exhibited in\nopposition, but are now reconciled; and the true nature of Not-being is\ndiscovered and made the basis of the correlation of ideas. Some\nlinks are probably missing which might have been supplied if we had\ntrustworthy accounts of Plato's oral teaching.\n\nTo sum up: the Parmenides of Plato is a critique, first, of the Platonic\nIdeas, and secondly, of the Eleatic doctrine of Being. Neither are\nabsolutely denied. But certain difficulties and consequences are shown\nin the assumption of either, which prove that the Platonic as well as\nthe Eleatic doctrine must be remodelled. The negation and contradiction\nwhich are involved in the conception of the One and Many are preliminary\nto their final adjustment. The Platonic Ideas are tested by the\ninterrogative method of Socrates; the Eleatic One or Being is tried by\nthe severer and perhaps impossible method of hypothetical consequences,\nnegative and affirmative. In the latter we have an example of the\nZenonian or Megarian dialectic, which proceeded, not 'by assailing\npremises, but conclusions'; this is worked out and improved by Plato.\nWhen primary abstractions are used in every conceivable sense, any or\nevery conclusion may be deduced from them. The words 'one,' 'other,'\n'being,' 'like,' 'same,' 'whole,' and their opposites, have slightly\ndifferent meanings, as they are applied to objects of thought or\nobjects of sense--to number, time, place, and to the higher ideas of\nthe reason;--and out of their different meanings this 'feast' of\ncontradictions 'has been provided.'\n\n...\n\nThe Parmenides of Plato belongs to a stage of philosophy which has\npassed away. At first we read it with a purely antiquarian or historical\ninterest; and with difficulty throw ourselves back into a state of\nthe human mind in which Unity and Being occupied the attention of\nphilosophers. We admire the precision of the language, in which, as in\nsome curious puzzle, each word is exactly fitted into every other,\nand long trains of argument are carried out with a sort of geometrical\naccuracy. We doubt whether any abstract notion could stand the searching\ncross-examination of Parmenides; and may at last perhaps arrive at the\nconclusion that Plato has been using an imaginary method to work out an\nunmeaning conclusion. But the truth is, that he is carrying on a process\nwhich is not either useless or unnecessary in any age of philosophy.\nWe fail to understand him, because we do not realize that the questions\nwhich he is discussing could have had any value or importance. We\nsuppose them to be like the speculations of some of the Schoolmen,\nwhich end in nothing. But in truth he is trying to get rid of the\nstumbling-blocks of thought which beset his contemporaries. Seeing that\nthe Megarians and Cynics were making knowledge impossible, he takes\ntheir 'catch-words' and analyzes them from every conceivable point of\nview. He is criticizing the simplest and most general of our ideas, in\nwhich, as they are the most comprehensive, the danger of error is the\nmost serious; for, if they remain unexamined, as in a mathematical\ndemonstration, all that flows from them is affected, and the error\npervades knowledge far and wide. In the beginning of philosophy this\ncorrection of human ideas was even more necessary than in our own\ntimes, because they were more bound up with words; and words when once\npresented to the mind exercised a greater power over thought. There is\na natural realism which says, 'Can there be a word devoid of meaning, or\nan idea which is an idea of nothing?' In modern times mankind have often\ngiven too great importance to a word or idea. The philosophy of the\nancients was still more in slavery to them, because they had not the\nexperience of error, which would have placed them above the illusion.\n\nThe method of the Parmenides may be compared with the process of\npurgation, which Bacon sought to introduce into philosophy. Plato is\nwarning us against two sorts of 'Idols of the Den': first, his own\nIdeas, which he himself having created is unable to connect in any way\nwith the external world; secondly, against two idols in particular,\n'Unity' and 'Being,' which had grown up in the pre-Socratic philosophy,\nand were still standing in the way of all progress and development of\nthought. He does not say with Bacon, 'Let us make truth by experiment,'\nor 'From these vague and inexact notions let us turn to facts.' The time\nhas not yet arrived for a purely inductive philosophy. The instruments\nof thought must first be forged, that they may be used hereafter by\nmodern inquirers. How, while mankind were disputing about universals,\ncould they classify phenomena? How could they investigate causes, when\nthey had not as yet learned to distinguish between a cause and an end?\nHow could they make any progress in the sciences without first arranging\nthem? These are the deficiencies which Plato is seeking to supply in an\nage when knowledge was a shadow of a name only. In the earlier dialogues\nthe Socratic conception of universals is illustrated by his genius; in\nthe Phaedrus the nature of division is explained; in the Republic the\nlaw of contradiction and the unity of knowledge are asserted; in the\nlater dialogues he is constantly engaged both with the theory and\npractice of classification. These were the 'new weapons,' as he terms\nthem in the Philebus, which he was preparing for the use of some who, in\nafter ages, would be found ready enough to disown their obligations\nto the great master, or rather, perhaps, would be incapable of\nunderstanding them.\n\nNumberless fallacies, as we are often truly told, have originated in a\nconfusion of the 'copula,' and the 'verb of existence.' Would not the\ndistinction which Plato by the mouth of Parmenides makes between 'One\nis one' and 'One has being' have saved us from this and many similar\nconfusions? We see again that a long period in the history of philosophy\nwas a barren tract, not uncultivated, but unfruitful, because there\nwas no inquiry into the relation of language and thought, and the\nmetaphysical imagination was incapable of supplying the missing link\nbetween words and things. The famous dispute between Nominalists and\nRealists would never have been heard of, if, instead of transferring the\nPlatonic Ideas into a crude Latin phraseology, the spirit of Plato had\nbeen truly understood and appreciated. Upon the term substance at least\ntwo celebrated theological controversies appear to hinge, which would\nnot have existed, or at least not in their present form, if we had\n'interrogated' the word substance, as Plato has the notions of Unity and\nBeing. These weeds of philosophy have struck their roots deep into\nthe soil, and are always tending to reappear, sometimes in new-fangled\nforms; while similar words, such as development, evolution, law, and\nthe like, are constantly put in the place of facts, even by writers who\nprofess to base truth entirely upon fact. In an unmetaphysical age there\nis probably more metaphysics in the common sense (i.e. more a\npriori assumption) than in any other, because there is more complete\nunconsciousness that we are resting on our own ideas, while we please\nourselves with the conviction that we are resting on facts. We do\nnot consider how much metaphysics are required to place us above\nmetaphysics, or how difficult it is to prevent the forms of expression\nwhich are ready made for our use from outrunning actual observation and\nexperiment.\n\nIn the last century the educated world were astonished to find that the\nwhole fabric of their ideas was falling to pieces, because Hume amused\nhimself by analyzing the word 'cause' into uniform sequence. Then arose\na philosophy which, equally regardless of the history of the mind,\nsought to save mankind from scepticism by assigning to our notions\nof 'cause and effect,' 'substance and accident,' 'whole and part,'\na necessary place in human thought. Without them we could have\nno experience, and therefore they were supposed to be prior to\nexperience--to be incrusted on the 'I'; although in the phraseology of\nKant there could be no transcendental use of them, or, in other words,\nthey were only applicable within the range of our knowledge. But into\nthe origin of these ideas, which he obtains partly by an analysis of the\nproposition, partly by development of the 'ego,' he never inquires--they\nseem to him to have a necessary existence; nor does he attempt to\nanalyse the various senses in which the word 'cause' or 'substance' may\nbe employed.\n\nThe philosophy of Berkeley could never have had any meaning, even\nto himself, if he had first analyzed from every point of view the\nconception of 'matter.' This poor forgotten word (which was 'a very good\nword' to describe the simplest generalization of external objects) is\nnow superseded in the vocabulary of physical philosophers by 'force,'\nwhich seems to be accepted without any rigid examination of its meaning,\nas if the general idea of 'force' in our minds furnished an explanation\nof the infinite variety of forces which exist in the universe. A similar\nambiguity occurs in the use of the favourite word 'law,' which is\nsometimes regarded as a mere abstraction, and then elevated into a real\npower or entity, almost taking the place of God. Theology, again, is\nfull of undefined terms which have distracted the human mind for ages.\nMankind have reasoned from them, but not to them; they have drawn out\nthe conclusions without proving the premises; they have asserted the\npremises without examining the terms. The passions of religious parties\nhave been roused to the utmost about words of which they could have\ngiven no explanation, and which had really no distinct meaning. One sort\nof them, faith, grace, justification, have been the symbols of one\nclass of disputes; as the words substance, nature, person, of another,\nrevelation, inspiration, and the like, of a third. All of them have been\nthe subject of endless reasonings and inferences; but a spell has hung\nover the minds of theologians or philosophers which has prevented them\nfrom examining the words themselves. Either the effort to rise above\nand beyond their own first ideas was too great for them, or there might,\nperhaps, have seemed to be an irreverence in doing so. About the Divine\nBeing Himself, in whom all true theological ideas live and move, men\nhave spoken and reasoned much, and have fancied that they instinctively\nknow Him. But they hardly suspect that under the name of God even\nChristians have included two characters or natures as much opposed as\nthe good and evil principle of the Persians.\n\nTo have the true use of words we must compare them with things; in using\nthem we acknowledge that they seldom give a perfect representation of\nour meaning. In like manner when we interrogate our ideas we find that\nwe are not using them always in the sense which we supposed. And Plato,\nwhile he criticizes the inconsistency of his own doctrine of universals\nand draws out the endless consequences which flow from the assertion\neither that 'Being is' or that 'Being is not,' by no means intends\nto deny the existence of universals or the unity under which they\nare comprehended. There is nothing further from his thoughts than\nscepticism. But before proceeding he must examine the foundations which\nhe and others have been laying; there is nothing true which is not from\nsome point of view untrue, nothing absolute which is not also relative\n(compare Republic).\n\nAnd so, in modern times, because we are called upon to analyze our ideas\nand to come to a distinct understanding about the meaning of words;\nbecause we know that the powers of language are very unequal to the\nsubtlety of nature or of mind, we do not therefore renounce the use of\nthem; but we replace them in their old connexion, having first tested\ntheir meaning and quality, and having corrected the error which is\ninvolved in them; or rather always remembering to make allowance for\nthe adulteration or alloy which they contain. We cannot call a new\nmetaphysical world into existence any more than we can frame a new\nuniversal language; in thought as in speech, we are dependent on the\npast. We know that the words 'cause' and 'effect' are very far from\nrepresenting to us the continuity or the complexity of nature or the\ndifferent modes or degrees in which phenomena are connected. Yet we\naccept them as the best expression which we have of the correlation of\nforces or objects. We see that the term 'law' is a mere abstraction,\nunder which laws of matter and of mind, the law of nature and the law of\nthe land are included, and some of these uses of the word are confusing,\nbecause they introduce into one sphere of thought associations\nwhich belong to another; for example, order or sequence is apt to be\nconfounded with external compulsion and the internal workings of the\nmind with their material antecedents. Yet none of them can be dispensed\nwith; we can only be on our guard against the error or confusion which\narises out of them. Thus in the use of the word 'substance' we are far\nfrom supposing that there is any mysterious substratum apart from the\nobjects which we see, and we acknowledge that the negative notion is\nvery likely to become a positive one. Still we retain the word as a\nconvenient generalization, though not without a double sense, substance,\nand essence, derived from the two-fold translation of the Greek ousia.\n\nSo the human mind makes the reflection that God is not a person like\nourselves--is not a cause like the material causes in nature, nor even\nan intelligent cause like a human agent--nor an individual, for He is\nuniversal; and that every possible conception which we can form of Him\nis limited by the human faculties. We cannot by any effort of thought\nor exertion of faith be in and out of our own minds at the same instant.\nHow can we conceive Him under the forms of time and space, who is out of\ntime and space? How get rid of such forms and see Him as He is? How\ncan we imagine His relation to the world or to ourselves? Innumerable\ncontradictions follow from either of the two alternatives, that God is\nor that He is not. Yet we are far from saying that we know nothing of\nHim, because all that we know is subject to the conditions of human\nthought. To the old belief in Him we return, but with corrections. He is\na person, but not like ourselves; a mind, but not a human mind; a cause,\nbut not a material cause, nor yet a maker or artificer. The words which\nwe use are imperfect expressions of His true nature; but we do not\ntherefore lose faith in what is best and highest in ourselves and in the\nworld.\n\n'A little philosophy takes us away from God; a great deal brings us back\nto Him.' When we begin to reflect, our first thoughts respecting Him and\nourselves are apt to be sceptical. For we can analyze our religious as\nwell as our other ideas; we can trace their history; we can criticize\ntheir perversion; we see that they are relative to the human mind and\nto one another. But when we have carried our criticism to the furthest\npoint, they still remain, a necessity of our moral nature, better known\nand understood by us, and less liable to be shaken, because we are more\naware of their necessary imperfection. They come to us with 'better\nopinion, better confirmation,' not merely as the inspirations either of\nourselves or of another, but deeply rooted in history and in the human\nmind.\n\n\n\n\nPARMENIDES\n\n\nPERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: Cephalus, Adeimantus, Glaucon, Antiphon,\nPythodorus, Socrates, Zeno, Parmenides, Aristoteles.\n\nCephalus rehearses a dialogue which is supposed to have been narrated in\nhis presence by Antiphon, the half-brother of Adeimantus and Glaucon, to\ncertain Clazomenians.\n\n\nWe had come from our home at Clazomenae to Athens, and met Adeimantus\nand Glaucon in the Agora. Welcome, Cephalus, said Adeimantus, taking me\nby the hand; is there anything which we can do for you in Athens?\n\nYes; that is why I am here; I wish to ask a favour of you.\n\nWhat may that be? he said.\n\nI want you to tell me the name of your half brother, which I have\nforgotten; he was a mere child when I last came hither from Clazomenae,\nbut that was a long time ago; his father's name, if I remember rightly,\nwas Pyrilampes?\n\nYes, he said, and the name of our brother, Antiphon; but why do you ask?\n\nLet me introduce some countrymen of mine, I said; they are lovers of\nphilosophy, and have heard that Antiphon was intimate with a certain\nPythodorus, a friend of Zeno, and remembers a conversation which took\nplace between Socrates, Zeno, and Parmenides many years ago, Pythodorus\nhaving often recited it to him.\n\nQuite true.\n\nAnd could we hear it? I asked.\n\nNothing easier, he replied; when he was a youth he made a careful study\nof the piece; at present his thoughts run in another direction; like his\ngrandfather Antiphon he is devoted to horses. But, if that is what you\nwant, let us go and look for him; he dwells at Melita, which is quite\nnear, and he has only just left us to go home.\n\nAccordingly we went to look for him; he was at home, and in the act\nof giving a bridle to a smith to be fitted. When he had done with the\nsmith, his brothers told him the purpose of our visit; and he saluted me\nas an acquaintance whom he remembered from my former visit, and we\nasked him to repeat the dialogue. At first he was not very willing, and\ncomplained of the trouble, but at length he consented. He told us that\nPythodorus had described to him the appearance of Parmenides and Zeno;\nthey came to Athens, as he said, at the great Panathenaea; the former\nwas, at the time of his visit, about 65 years old, very white with age,\nbut well favoured. Zeno was nearly 40 years of age, tall and fair to\nlook upon; in the days of his youth he was reported to have been\nbeloved by Parmenides. He said that they lodged with Pythodorus in the\nCeramicus, outside the wall, whither Socrates, then a very young man,\ncame to see them, and many others with him; they wanted to hear the\nwritings of Zeno, which had been brought to Athens for the first time\non the occasion of their visit. These Zeno himself read to them in the\nabsence of Parmenides, and had very nearly finished when Pythodorus\nentered, and with him Parmenides and Aristoteles who was afterwards\none of the Thirty, and heard the little that remained of the dialogue.\nPythodorus had heard Zeno repeat them before.\n\nWhen the recitation was completed, Socrates requested that the first\nthesis of the first argument might be read over again, and this having\nbeen done, he said: What is your meaning, Zeno? Do you maintain that\nif being is many, it must be both like and unlike, and that this is\nimpossible, for neither can the like be unlike, nor the unlike like--is\nthat your position?\n\nJust so, said Zeno.\n\nAnd if the unlike cannot be like, or the like unlike, then according to\nyou, being could not be many; for this would involve an impossibility.\nIn all that you say have you any other purpose except to disprove the\nbeing of the many? and is not each division of your treatise intended to\nfurnish a separate proof of this, there being in all as many proofs of\nthe not-being of the many as you have composed arguments? Is that your\nmeaning, or have I misunderstood you?\n\nNo, said Zeno; you have correctly understood my general purpose.\n\nI see, Parmenides, said Socrates, that Zeno would like to be not only\none with you in friendship but your second self in his writings too; he\nputs what you say in another way, and would fain make believe that he is\ntelling us something which is new. For you, in your poems, say The All\nis one, and of this you adduce excellent proofs; and he on the other\nhand says There is no many; and on behalf of this he offers overwhelming\nevidence. You affirm unity, he denies plurality. And so you deceive the\nworld into believing that you are saying different things when really\nyou are saying much the same. This is a strain of art beyond the reach\nof most of us.\n\nYes, Socrates, said Zeno. But although you are as keen as a Spartan\nhound in pursuing the track, you do not fully apprehend the true motive\nof the composition, which is not really such an artificial work as you\nimagine; for what you speak of was an accident; there was no pretence of\na great purpose; nor any serious intention of deceiving the world.\nThe truth is, that these writings of mine were meant to protect the\narguments of Parmenides against those who make fun of him and seek to\nshow the many ridiculous and contradictory results which they suppose\nto follow from the affirmation of the one. My answer is addressed to the\npartisans of the many, whose attack I return with interest by retorting\nupon them that their hypothesis of the being of many, if carried out,\nappears to be still more ridiculous than the hypothesis of the being\nof one. Zeal for my master led me to write the book in the days of\nmy youth, but some one stole the copy; and therefore I had no choice\nwhether it should be published or not; the motive, however, of writing,\nwas not the ambition of an elder man, but the pugnacity of a young one.\nThis you do not seem to see, Socrates; though in other respects, as I\nwas saying, your notion is a very just one.\n\nI understand, said Socrates, and quite accept your account. But tell\nme, Zeno, do you not further think that there is an idea of likeness\nin itself, and another idea of unlikeness, which is the opposite of\nlikeness, and that in these two, you and I and all other things to\nwhich we apply the term many, participate--things which participate\nin likeness become in that degree and manner like; and so far as they\nparticipate in unlikeness become in that degree unlike, or both like and\nunlike in the degree in which they participate in both? And may not all\nthings partake of both opposites, and be both like and unlike, by reason\nof this participation?--Where is the wonder? Now if a person could prove\nthe absolute like to become unlike, or the absolute unlike to become\nlike, that, in my opinion, would indeed be a wonder; but there is\nnothing extraordinary, Zeno, in showing that the things which only\npartake of likeness and unlikeness experience both. Nor, again, if a\nperson were to show that all is one by partaking of one, and at the same\ntime many by partaking of many, would that be very astonishing. But if\nhe were to show me that the absolute one was many, or the absolute\nmany one, I should be truly amazed. And so of all the rest: I should\nbe surprised to hear that the natures or ideas themselves had these\nopposite qualities; but not if a person wanted to prove of me that I was\nmany and also one. When he wanted to show that I was many he would say\nthat I have a right and a left side, and a front and a back, and an\nupper and a lower half, for I cannot deny that I partake of multitude;\nwhen, on the other hand, he wants to prove that I am one, he will say,\nthat we who are here assembled are seven, and that I am one and partake\nof the one. In both instances he proves his case. So again, if a person\nshows that such things as wood, stones, and the like, being many are\nalso one, we admit that he shows the coexistence of the one and many,\nbut he does not show that the many are one or the one many; he\nis uttering not a paradox but a truism. If however, as I just now\nsuggested, some one were to abstract simple notions of like, unlike,\none, many, rest, motion, and similar ideas, and then to show that these\nadmit of admixture and separation in themselves, I should be very much\nastonished. This part of the argument appears to be treated by you,\nZeno, in a very spirited manner; but, as I was saying, I should be\nfar more amazed if any one found in the ideas themselves which are\napprehended by reason, the same puzzle and entanglement which you have\nshown to exist in visible objects.\n\nWhile Socrates was speaking, Pythodorus thought that Parmenides and Zeno\nwere not altogether pleased at the successive steps of the argument; but\nstill they gave the closest attention, and often looked at one another,\nand smiled as if in admiration of him. When he had finished, Parmenides\nexpressed their feelings in the following words:--\n\nSocrates, he said, I admire the bent of your mind towards philosophy;\ntell me now, was this your own distinction between ideas in themselves\nand the things which partake of them? and do you think that there is an\nidea of likeness apart from the likeness which we possess, and of the\none and many, and of the other things which Zeno mentioned?\n\nI think that there are such ideas, said Socrates.\n\nParmenides proceeded: And would you also make absolute ideas of the just\nand the beautiful and the good, and of all that class?\n\nYes, he said, I should.\n\nAnd would you make an idea of man apart from us and from all other human\ncreatures, or of fire and water?\n\nI am often undecided, Parmenides, as to whether I ought to include them\nor not.\n\nAnd would you feel equally undecided, Socrates, about things of which\nthe mention may provoke a smile?--I mean such things as hair, mud, dirt,\nor anything else which is vile and paltry; would you suppose that each\nof these has an idea distinct from the actual objects with which we come\ninto contact, or not?\n\nCertainly not, said Socrates; visible things like these are such as\nthey appear to us, and I am afraid that there would be an absurdity in\nassuming any idea of them, although I sometimes get disturbed, and begin\nto think that there is nothing without an idea; but then again, when I\nhave taken up this position, I run away, because I am afraid that I may\nfall into a bottomless pit of nonsense, and perish; and so I return to\nthe ideas of which I was just now speaking, and occupy myself with them.\n\nYes, Socrates, said Parmenides; that is because you are still young; the\ntime will come, if I am not mistaken, when philosophy will have a firmer\ngrasp of you, and then you will not despise even the meanest things; at\nyour age, you are too much disposed to regard the opinions of men. But\nI should like to know whether you mean that there are certain ideas of\nwhich all other things partake, and from which they derive their names;\nthat similars, for example, become similar, because they partake of\nsimilarity; and great things become great, because they partake of\ngreatness; and that just and beautiful things become just and beautiful,\nbecause they partake of justice and beauty?\n\nYes, certainly, said Socrates that is my meaning.\n\nThen each individual partakes either of the whole of the idea or else of\na part of the idea? Can there be any other mode of participation?\n\nThere cannot be, he said.\n\nThen do you think that the whole idea is one, and yet, being one, is in\neach one of the many?\n\nWhy not, Parmenides? said Socrates.\n\nBecause one and the same thing will exist as a whole at the same time\nin many separate individuals, and will therefore be in a state of\nseparation from itself.\n\nNay, but the idea may be like the day which is one and the same in many\nplaces at once, and yet continuous with itself; in this way each idea\nmay be one and the same in all at the same time.\n\nI like your way, Socrates, of making one in many places at once. You\nmean to say, that if I were to spread out a sail and cover a number of\nmen, there would be one whole including many--is not that your meaning?\n\nI think so.\n\nAnd would you say that the whole sail includes each man, or a part of it\nonly, and different parts different men?\n\nThe latter.\n\nThen, Socrates, the ideas themselves will be divisible, and things which\nparticipate in them will have a part of them only and not the whole idea\nexisting in each of them?\n\nThat seems to follow.\n\nThen would you like to say, Socrates, that the one idea is really\ndivisible and yet remains one?\n\nCertainly not, he said.\n\nSuppose that you divide absolute greatness, and that of the many great\nthings, each one is great in virtue of a portion of greatness less than\nabsolute greatness--is that conceivable?\n\nNo.\n\nOr will each equal thing, if possessing some small portion of equality\nless than absolute equality, be equal to some other thing by virtue of\nthat portion only?\n\nImpossible.\n\nOr suppose one of us to have a portion of smallness; this is but a part\nof the small, and therefore the absolutely small is greater; if the\nabsolutely small be greater, that to which the part of the small is\nadded will be smaller and not greater than before.\n\nHow absurd!\n\nThen in what way, Socrates, will all things participate in the ideas, if\nthey are unable to participate in them either as parts or wholes?\n\nIndeed, he said, you have asked a question which is not easily answered.\n\nWell, said Parmenides, and what do you say of another question?\n\nWhat question?\n\nI imagine that the way in which you are led to assume one idea of each\nkind is as follows:--You see a number of great objects, and when you\nlook at them there seems to you to be one and the same idea (or nature)\nin them all; hence you conceive of greatness as one.\n\nVery true, said Socrates.\n\nAnd if you go on and allow your mind in like manner to embrace in one\nview the idea of greatness and of great things which are not the idea,\nand to compare them, will not another greatness arise, which will appear\nto be the source of all these?\n\nIt would seem so.\n\nThen another idea of greatness now comes into view over and above\nabsolute greatness, and the individuals which partake of it; and then\nanother, over and above all these, by virtue of which they will all\nbe great, and so each idea instead of being one will be infinitely\nmultiplied.\n\nBut may not the ideas, asked Socrates, be thoughts only, and have no\nproper existence except in our minds, Parmenides? For in that case each\nidea may still be one, and not experience this infinite multiplication.\n\nAnd can there be individual thoughts which are thoughts of nothing?\n\nImpossible, he said.\n\nThe thought must be of something?\n\nYes.\n\nOf something which is or which is not?\n\nOf something which is.\n\nMust it not be of a single something, which the thought recognizes as\nattaching to all, being a single form or nature?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd will not the something which is apprehended as one and the same in\nall, be an idea?\n\nFrom that, again, there is no escape.\n\nThen, said Parmenides, if you say that everything else participates\nin the ideas, must you not say either that everything is made up of\nthoughts, and that all things think; or that they are thoughts but have\nno thought?\n\nThe latter view, Parmenides, is no more rational than the previous one.\nIn my opinion, the ideas are, as it were, patterns fixed in nature, and\nother things are like them, and resemblances of them--what is meant by\nthe participation of other things in the ideas, is really assimilation\nto them.\n\nBut if, said he, the individual is like the idea, must not the idea also\nbe like the individual, in so far as the individual is a resemblance of\nthe idea? That which is like, cannot be conceived of as other than the\nlike of like.\n\nImpossible.\n\nAnd when two things are alike, must they not partake of the same idea?\n\nThey must.\n\nAnd will not that of which the two partake, and which makes them alike,\nbe the idea itself?\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen the idea cannot be like the individual, or the individual like the\nidea; for if they are alike, some further idea of likeness will always\nbe coming to light, and if that be like anything else, another; and new\nideas will be always arising, if the idea resembles that which partakes\nof it?\n\nQuite true.\n\nThe theory, then, that other things participate in the ideas by\nresemblance, has to be given up, and some other mode of participation\ndevised?\n\nIt would seem so.\n\nDo you see then, Socrates, how great is the difficulty of affirming the\nideas to be absolute?\n\nYes, indeed.\n\nAnd, further, let me say that as yet you only understand a small part\nof the difficulty which is involved if you make of each thing a single\nidea, parting it off from other things.\n\nWhat difficulty? he said.\n\nThere are many, but the greatest of all is this:--If an opponent argues\nthat these ideas, being such as we say they ought to be, must remain\nunknown, no one can prove to him that he is wrong, unless he who denies\ntheir existence be a man of great ability and knowledge, and is\nwilling to follow a long and laborious demonstration; he will remain\nunconvinced, and still insist that they cannot be known.\n\nWhat do you mean, Parmenides? said Socrates.\n\nIn the first place, I think, Socrates, that you, or any one who\nmaintains the existence of absolute essences, will admit that they\ncannot exist in us.\n\nNo, said Socrates; for then they would be no longer absolute.\n\nTrue, he said; and therefore when ideas are what they are in relation to\none another, their essence is determined by a relation among themselves,\nand has nothing to do with the resemblances, or whatever they are to be\ntermed, which are in our sphere, and from which we receive this or that\nname when we partake of them. And the things which are within our sphere\nand have the same names with them, are likewise only relative to one\nanother, and not to the ideas which have the same names with them, but\nbelong to themselves and not to them.\n\nWhat do you mean? said Socrates.\n\nI may illustrate my meaning in this way, said Parmenides:--A master has\na slave; now there is nothing absolute in the relation between them,\nwhich is simply a relation of one man to another. But there is also an\nidea of mastership in the abstract, which is relative to the idea of\nslavery in the abstract. These natures have nothing to do with us,\nnor we with them; they are concerned with themselves only, and we with\nourselves. Do you see my meaning?\n\nYes, said Socrates, I quite see your meaning.\n\nAnd will not knowledge--I mean absolute knowledge--answer to absolute\ntruth?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd each kind of absolute knowledge will answer to each kind of absolute\nbeing?\n\nYes.\n\nBut the knowledge which we have, will answer to the truth which we have;\nand again, each kind of knowledge which we have, will be a knowledge of\neach kind of being which we have?\n\nCertainly.\n\nBut the ideas themselves, as you admit, we have not, and cannot have?\n\nNo, we cannot.\n\nAnd the absolute natures or kinds are known severally by the absolute\nidea of knowledge?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd we have not got the idea of knowledge?\n\nNo.\n\nThen none of the ideas are known to us, because we have no share in\nabsolute knowledge?\n\nI suppose not.\n\nThen the nature of the beautiful in itself, and of the good in itself,\nand all other ideas which we suppose to exist absolutely, are unknown to\nus?\n\nIt would seem so.\n\nI think that there is a stranger consequence still.\n\nWhat is it?\n\nWould you, or would you not say, that absolute knowledge, if there is\nsuch a thing, must be a far more exact knowledge than our knowledge; and\nthe same of beauty and of the rest?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd if there be such a thing as participation in absolute knowledge, no\none is more likely than God to have this most exact knowledge?\n\nCertainly.\n\nBut then, will God, having absolute knowledge, have a knowledge of human\nthings?\n\nWhy not?\n\nBecause, Socrates, said Parmenides, we have admitted that the ideas are\nnot valid in relation to human things; nor human things in relation to\nthem; the relations of either are limited to their respective spheres.\n\nYes, that has been admitted.\n\nAnd if God has this perfect authority, and perfect knowledge, his\nauthority cannot rule us, nor his knowledge know us, or any human thing;\njust as our authority does not extend to the gods, nor our knowledge\nknow anything which is divine, so by parity of reason they, being gods,\nare not our masters, neither do they know the things of men.\n\nYet, surely, said Socrates, to deprive God of knowledge is monstrous.\n\nThese, Socrates, said Parmenides, are a few, and only a few of the\ndifficulties in which we are involved if ideas really are and we\ndetermine each one of them to be an absolute unity. He who hears what\nmay be said against them will deny the very existence of them--and even\nif they do exist, he will say that they must of necessity be unknown\nto man; and he will seem to have reason on his side, and as we were\nremarking just now, will be very difficult to convince; a man must\nbe gifted with very considerable ability before he can learn that\neverything has a class and an absolute essence; and still more\nremarkable will he be who discovers all these things for himself, and\nhaving thoroughly investigated them is able to teach them to others.\n\nI agree with you, Parmenides, said Socrates; and what you say is very\nmuch to my mind.\n\nAnd yet, Socrates, said Parmenides, if a man, fixing his attention on\nthese and the like difficulties, does away with ideas of things and will\nnot admit that every individual thing has its own determinate idea which\nis always one and the same, he will have nothing on which his mind can\nrest; and so he will utterly destroy the power of reasoning, as you seem\nto me to have particularly noted.\n\nVery true, he said.\n\nBut, then, what is to become of philosophy? Whither shall we turn, if\nthe ideas are unknown?\n\nI certainly do not see my way at present.\n\nYes, said Parmenides; and I think that this arises, Socrates, out of\nyour attempting to define the beautiful, the just, the good, and the\nideas generally, without sufficient previous training. I noticed your\ndeficiency, when I heard you talking here with your friend Aristoteles,\nthe day before yesterday. The impulse that carries you towards\nphilosophy is assuredly noble and divine; but there is an art which is\ncalled by the vulgar idle talking, and which is often imagined to be\nuseless; in that you must train and exercise yourself, now that you are\nyoung, or truth will elude your grasp.\n\nAnd what is the nature of this exercise, Parmenides, which you would\nrecommend?\n\nThat which you heard Zeno practising; at the same time, I give you\ncredit for saying to him that you did not care to examine the perplexity\nin reference to visible things, or to consider the question that way;\nbut only in reference to objects of thought, and to what may be called\nideas.\n\nWhy, yes, he said, there appears to me to be no difficulty in showing by\nthis method that visible things are like and unlike and may experience\nanything.\n\nQuite true, said Parmenides; but I think that you should go a step\nfurther, and consider not only the consequences which flow from a\ngiven hypothesis, but also the consequences which flow from denying the\nhypothesis; and that will be still better training for you.\n\nWhat do you mean? he said.\n\nI mean, for example, that in the case of this very hypothesis of\nZeno's about the many, you should inquire not only what will be the\nconsequences to the many in relation to themselves and to the one, and\nto the one in relation to itself and the many, on the hypothesis of the\nbeing of the many, but also what will be the consequences to the one\nand the many in their relation to themselves and to each other, on the\nopposite hypothesis. Or, again, if likeness is or is not, what will\nbe the consequences in either of these cases to the subjects of the\nhypothesis, and to other things, in relation both to themselves and to\none another, and so of unlikeness; and the same holds good of motion and\nrest, of generation and destruction, and even of being and not-being.\nIn a word, when you suppose anything to be or not to be, or to be in any\nway affected, you must look at the consequences in relation to the\nthing itself, and to any other things which you choose,--to each of them\nsingly, to more than one, and to all; and so of other things, you must\nlook at them in relation to themselves and to anything else which you\nsuppose either to be or not to be, if you would train yourself perfectly\nand see the real truth.\n\nThat, Parmenides, is a tremendous business of which you speak, and I do\nnot quite understand you; will you take some hypothesis and go through\nthe steps?--then I shall apprehend you better.\n\nThat, Socrates, is a serious task to impose on a man of my years.\n\nThen will you, Zeno? said Socrates.\n\nZeno answered with a smile:--Let us make our petition to Parmenides\nhimself, who is quite right in saying that you are hardly aware of the\nextent of the task which you are imposing on him; and if there were more\nof us I should not ask him, for these are not subjects which any one,\nespecially at his age, can well speak of before a large audience; most\npeople are not aware that this roundabout progress through all things\nis the only way in which the mind can attain truth and wisdom. And\ntherefore, Parmenides, I join in the request of Socrates, that I may\nhear the process again which I have not heard for a long time.\n\nWhen Zeno had thus spoken, Pythodorus, according to Antiphon's report\nof him, said, that he himself and Aristoteles and the whole company\nentreated Parmenides to give an example of the process. I cannot refuse,\nsaid Parmenides; and yet I feel rather like Ibycus, who, when in his\nold age, against his will, he fell in love, compared himself to an old\nracehorse, who was about to run in a chariot race, shaking with fear at\nthe course he knew so well--this was his simile of himself. And I also\nexperience a trembling when I remember through what an ocean of words\nI have to wade at my time of life. But I must indulge you, as Zeno says\nthat I ought, and we are alone. Where shall I begin? And what shall be\nour first hypothesis, if I am to attempt this laborious pastime? Shall I\nbegin with myself, and take my own hypothesis the one? and consider the\nconsequences which follow on the supposition either of the being or of\nthe not-being of one?\n\nBy all means, said Zeno.\n\nAnd who will answer me? he said. Shall I propose the youngest? He will\nnot make difficulties and will be the most likely to say what he thinks;\nand his answers will give me time to breathe.\n\nI am the one whom you mean, Parmenides, said Aristoteles; for I am the\nyoungest and at your service. Ask, and I will answer.\n\nParmenides proceeded: 1.a. If one is, he said, the one cannot be many?\n\nImpossible.\n\nThen the one cannot have parts, and cannot be a whole?\n\nWhy not?\n\nBecause every part is part of a whole; is it not?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd what is a whole? would not that of which no part is wanting be a\nwhole?\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen, in either case, the one would be made up of parts; both as being a\nwhole, and also as having parts?\n\nTo be sure.\n\nAnd in either case, the one would be many, and not one?\n\nTrue.\n\nBut, surely, it ought to be one and not many?\n\nIt ought.\n\nThen, if the one is to remain one, it will not be a whole, and will not\nhave parts?\n\nNo.\n\nBut if it has no parts, it will have neither beginning, middle, nor end;\nfor these would of course be parts of it.\n\nRight.\n\nBut then, again, a beginning and an end are the limits of everything?\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen the one, having neither beginning nor end, is unlimited?\n\nYes, unlimited.\n\nAnd therefore formless; for it cannot partake either of round or\nstraight.\n\nBut why?\n\nWhy, because the round is that of which all the extreme points are\nequidistant from the centre?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd the straight is that of which the centre intercepts the view of the\nextremes?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen the one would have parts and would be many, if it partook either of\na straight or of a circular form?\n\nAssuredly.\n\nBut having no parts, it will be neither straight nor round?\n\nRight.\n\nAnd, being of such a nature, it cannot be in any place, for it cannot be\neither in another or in itself.\n\nHow so?\n\nBecause if it were in another, it would be encircled by that in which\nit was, and would touch it at many places and with many parts; but that\nwhich is one and indivisible, and does not partake of a circular nature,\ncannot be touched all round in many places.\n\nCertainly not.\n\nBut if, on the other hand, one were in itself, it would also be\ncontained by nothing else but itself; that is to say, if it were really\nin itself; for nothing can be in anything which does not contain it.\n\nImpossible.\n\nBut then, that which contains must be other than that which is\ncontained? for the same whole cannot do and suffer both at once; and if\nso, one will be no longer one, but two?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen one cannot be anywhere, either in itself or in another?\n\nNo.\n\nFurther consider, whether that which is of such a nature can have either\nrest or motion.\n\nWhy not?\n\nWhy, because the one, if it were moved, would be either moved in place\nor changed in nature; for these are the only kinds of motion.\n\nYes.\n\nAnd the one, when it changes and ceases to be itself, cannot be any\nlonger one.\n\nIt cannot.\n\nIt cannot therefore experience the sort of motion which is change of\nnature?\n\nClearly not.\n\nThen can the motion of the one be in place?\n\nPerhaps.\n\nBut if the one moved in place, must it not either move round and round\nin the same place, or from one place to another?\n\nIt must.\n\nAnd that which moves in a circle must rest upon a centre; and that which\ngoes round upon a centre must have parts which are different from the\ncentre; but that which has no centre and no parts cannot possibly be\ncarried round upon a centre?\n\nImpossible.\n\nBut perhaps the motion of the one consists in change of place?\n\nPerhaps so, if it moves at all.\n\nAnd have we not already shown that it cannot be in anything?\n\nYes.\n\nThen its coming into being in anything is still more impossible; is it\nnot?\n\nI do not see why.\n\nWhy, because anything which comes into being in anything, can neither\nas yet be in that other thing while still coming into being, nor be\naltogether out of it, if already coming into being in it.\n\nCertainly not.\n\nAnd therefore whatever comes into being in another must have parts, and\nthen one part may be in, and another part out of that other; but that\nwhich has no parts can never be at one and the same time neither wholly\nwithin nor wholly without anything.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd is there not a still greater impossibility in that which has no\nparts, and is not a whole, coming into being anywhere, since it cannot\ncome into being either as a part or as a whole?\n\nClearly.\n\nThen it does not change place by revolving in the same spot, nor by\ngoing somewhere and coming into being in something; nor again, by change\nin itself?\n\nVery true.\n\nThen in respect of any kind of motion the one is immoveable?\n\nImmoveable.\n\nBut neither can the one be in anything, as we affirm?\n\nYes, we said so.\n\nThen it is never in the same?\n\nWhy not?\n\nBecause if it were in the same it would be in something.\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd we said that it could not be in itself, and could not be in other?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen one is never in the same place?\n\nIt would seem not.\n\nBut that which is never in the same place is never quiet or at rest?\n\nNever.\n\nOne then, as would seem, is neither at rest nor in motion?\n\nIt certainly appears so.\n\nNeither will it be the same with itself or other; nor again, other than\nitself or other.\n\nHow is that?\n\nIf other than itself it would be other than one, and would not be one.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd if the same with other, it would be that other, and not itself; so\nthat upon this supposition too, it would not have the nature of one, but\nwould be other than one?\n\nIt would.\n\nThen it will not be the same with other, or other than itself?\n\nIt will not.\n\nNeither will it be other than other, while it remains one; for not one,\nbut only other, can be other than other, and nothing else.\n\nTrue.\n\nThen not by virtue of being one will it be other?\n\nCertainly not.\n\nBut if not by virtue of being one, not by virtue of itself; and if not\nby virtue of itself, not itself, and itself not being other at all, will\nnot be other than anything?\n\nRight.\n\nNeither will one be the same with itself.\n\nHow not?\n\nSurely the nature of the one is not the nature of the same.\n\nWhy not?\n\nIt is not when anything becomes the same with anything that it becomes\none.\n\nWhat of that?\n\nAnything which becomes the same with the many, necessarily becomes many\nand not one.\n\nTrue.\n\nBut, if there were no difference between the one and the same, when a\nthing became the same, it would always become one; and when it became\none, the same?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd, therefore, if one be the same with itself, it is not one with\nitself, and will therefore be one and also not one.\n\nSurely that is impossible.\n\nAnd therefore the one can neither be other than other, nor the same with\nitself.\n\nImpossible.\n\nAnd thus the one can neither be the same, nor other, either in relation\nto itself or other?\n\nNo.\n\nNeither will the one be like anything or unlike itself or other.\n\nWhy not?\n\nBecause likeness is sameness of affections.\n\nYes.\n\nAnd sameness has been shown to be of a nature distinct from oneness?\n\nThat has been shown.\n\nBut if the one had any other affection than that of being one, it would\nbe affected in such a way as to be more than one; which is impossible.\n\nTrue.\n\nThen the one can never be so affected as to be the same either with\nanother or with itself?\n\nClearly not.\n\nThen it cannot be like another, or like itself?\n\nNo.\n\nNor can it be affected so as to be other, for then it would be affected\nin such a way as to be more than one.\n\nIt would.\n\nThat which is affected otherwise than itself or another, will be unlike\nitself or another, for sameness of affections is likeness.\n\nTrue.\n\nBut the one, as appears, never being affected otherwise, is never unlike\nitself or other?\n\nNever.\n\nThen the one will never be either like or unlike itself or other?\n\nPlainly not.\n\nAgain, being of this nature, it can neither be equal nor unequal either\nto itself or to other.\n\nHow is that?\n\nWhy, because the one if equal must be of the same measures as that to\nwhich it is equal.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd if greater or less than things which are commensurable with it, the\none will have more measures than that which is less, and fewer than that\nwhich is greater?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd so of things which are not commensurate with it, the one will have\ngreater measures than that which is less and smaller than that which is\ngreater.\n\nCertainly.\n\nBut how can that which does not partake of sameness, have either the\nsame measures or have anything else the same?\n\nImpossible.\n\nAnd not having the same measures, the one cannot be equal either with\nitself or with another?\n\nIt appears so.\n\nBut again, whether it have fewer or more measures, it will have as many\nparts as it has measures; and thus again the one will be no longer one\nbut will have as many parts as measures.\n\nRight.\n\nAnd if it were of one measure, it would be equal to that measure; yet it\nhas been shown to be incapable of equality.\n\nIt has.\n\nThen it will neither partake of one measure, nor of many, nor of few,\nnor of the same at all, nor be equal to itself or another; nor be\ngreater or less than itself, or other?\n\nCertainly.\n\nWell, and do we suppose that one can be older, or younger than anything,\nor of the same age with it?\n\nWhy not?\n\nWhy, because that which is of the same age with itself or other, must\npartake of equality or likeness of time; and we said that the one did\nnot partake either of equality or of likeness?\n\nWe did say so.\n\nAnd we also said, that it did not partake of inequality or unlikeness.\n\nVery true.\n\nHow then can one, being of this nature, be either older or younger than\nanything, or have the same age with it?\n\nIn no way.\n\nThen one cannot be older or younger, or of the same age, either with\nitself or with another?\n\nClearly not.\n\nThen the one, being of this nature, cannot be in time at all; for must\nnot that which is in time, be always growing older than itself?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd that which is older, must always be older than something which is\nyounger?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen, that which becomes older than itself, also becomes at the same\ntime younger than itself, if it is to have something to become older\nthan.\n\nWhat do you mean?\n\nI mean this:--A thing does not need to become different from another\nthing which is already different; it IS different, and if its different\nhas become, it has become different; if its different will be, it will\nbe different; but of that which is becoming different, there cannot\nhave been, or be about to be, or yet be, a different--the only different\npossible is one which is becoming.\n\nThat is inevitable.\n\nBut, surely, the elder is a difference relative to the younger, and to\nnothing else.\n\nTrue.\n\nThen that which becomes older than itself must also, at the same time,\nbecome younger than itself?\n\nYes.\n\nBut again, it is true that it cannot become for a longer or for a\nshorter time than itself, but it must become, and be, and have become,\nand be about to be, for the same time with itself?\n\nThat again is inevitable.\n\nThen things which are in time, and partake of time, must in every case,\nI suppose, be of the same age with themselves; and must also become at\nonce older and younger than themselves?\n\nYes.\n\nBut the one did not partake of those affections?\n\nNot at all.\n\nThen it does not partake of time, and is not in any time?\n\nSo the argument shows.\n\nWell, but do not the expressions 'was,' and 'has become,' and 'was\nbecoming,' signify a participation of past time?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd do not 'will be,' 'will become,' 'will have become,' signify a\nparticipation of future time?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd 'is,' or 'becomes,' signifies a participation of present time?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd if the one is absolutely without participation in time, it never\nhad become, or was becoming, or was at any time, or is now become or\nis becoming, or is, or will become, or will have become, or will be,\nhereafter.\n\nMost true.\n\nBut are there any modes of partaking of being other than these?\n\nThere are none.\n\nThen the one cannot possibly partake of being?\n\nThat is the inference.\n\nThen the one is not at all?\n\nClearly not.\n\nThen the one does not exist in such way as to be one; for if it were\nand partook of being, it would already be; but if the argument is to be\ntrusted, the one neither is nor is one?\n\nTrue.\n\nBut that which is not admits of no attribute or relation?\n\nOf course not.\n\nThen there is no name, nor expression, nor perception, nor opinion, nor\nknowledge of it?\n\nClearly not.\n\nThen it is neither named, nor expressed, nor opined, nor known, nor does\nanything that is perceive it.\n\nSo we must infer.\n\nBut can all this be true about the one?\n\nI think not.\n\n1.b. Suppose, now, that we return once more to the original hypothesis;\nlet us see whether, on a further review, any new aspect of the question\nappears.\n\nI shall be very happy to do so.\n\nWe say that we have to work out together all the consequences, whatever\nthey may be, which follow, if the one is?\n\nYes.\n\nThen we will begin at the beginning:--If one is, can one be, and not\npartake of being?\n\nImpossible.\n\nThen the one will have being, but its being will not be the same with\nthe one; for if the same, it would not be the being of the one; nor\nwould the one have participated in being, for the proposition that one\nis would have been identical with the proposition that one is one;\nbut our hypothesis is not if one is one, what will follow, but if one\nis:--am I not right?\n\nQuite right.\n\nWe mean to say, that being has not the same significance as one?\n\nOf course.\n\nAnd when we put them together shortly, and say 'One is,' that is\nequivalent to saying, 'partakes of being'?\n\nQuite true.\n\nOnce more then let us ask, if one is what will follow. Does not this\nhypothesis necessarily imply that one is of such a nature as to have\nparts?\n\nHow so?\n\nIn this way:--If being is predicated of the one, if the one is, and one\nof being, if being is one; and if being and one are not the same; and\nsince the one, which we have assumed, is, must not the whole, if it is\none, itself be, and have for its parts, one and being?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd is each of these parts--one and being--to be simply called a part,\nor must the word 'part' be relative to the word 'whole'?\n\nThe latter.\n\nThen that which is one is both a whole and has a part?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAgain, of the parts of the one, if it is--I mean being and one--does\neither fail to imply the other? is the one wanting to being, or being to\nthe one?\n\nImpossible.\n\nThus, each of the parts also has in turn both one and being, and is at\nthe least made up of two parts; and the same principle goes on for ever,\nand every part whatever has always these two parts; for being always\ninvolves one, and one being; so that one is always disappearing, and\nbecoming two.\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd so the one, if it is, must be infinite in multiplicity?\n\nClearly.\n\nLet us take another direction.\n\nWhat direction?\n\nWe say that the one partakes of being and therefore it is?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd in this way, the one, if it has being, has turned out to be many?\n\nTrue.\n\nBut now, let us abstract the one which, as we say, partakes of\nbeing, and try to imagine it apart from that of which, as we say, it\npartakes--will this abstract one be one only or many?\n\nOne, I think.\n\nLet us see:--Must not the being of one be other than one? for the one is\nnot being, but, considered as one, only partook of being?\n\nCertainly.\n\nIf being and the one be two different things, it is not because the one\nis one that it is other than being; nor because being is being that it\nis other than the one; but they differ from one another in virtue of\notherness and difference.\n\nCertainly.\n\nSo that the other is not the same--either with the one or with being?\n\nCertainly not.\n\nAnd therefore whether we take being and the other, or being and the one,\nor the one and the other, in every such case we take two things, which\nmay be rightly called both.\n\nHow so.\n\nIn this way--you may speak of being?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd also of one?\n\nYes.\n\nThen now we have spoken of either of them?\n\nYes.\n\nWell, and when I speak of being and one, I speak of them both?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd if I speak of being and the other, or of the one and the other,--in\nany such case do I not speak of both?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd must not that which is correctly called both, be also two?\n\nUndoubtedly.\n\nAnd of two things how can either by any possibility not be one?\n\nIt cannot.\n\nThen, if the individuals of the pair are together two, they must be\nseverally one?\n\nClearly.\n\nAnd if each of them is one, then by the addition of any one to any pair,\nthe whole becomes three?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd three are odd, and two are even?\n\nOf course.\n\nAnd if there are two there must also be twice, and if there are three\nthere must be thrice; that is, if twice one makes two, and thrice one\nthree?\n\nCertainly.\n\nThere are two, and twice, and therefore there must be twice two; and\nthere are three, and there is thrice, and therefore there must be thrice\nthree?\n\nOf course.\n\nIf there are three and twice, there is twice three; and if there are two\nand thrice, there is thrice two?\n\nUndoubtedly.\n\nHere, then, we have even taken even times, and odd taken odd times, and\neven taken odd times, and odd taken even times.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd if this is so, does any number remain which has no necessity to be?\n\nNone whatever.\n\nThen if one is, number must also be?\n\nIt must.\n\nBut if there is number, there must also be many, and infinite\nmultiplicity of being; for number is infinite in multiplicity, and\npartakes also of being: am I not right?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd if all number participates in being, every part of number will also\nparticipate?\n\nYes.\n\nThen being is distributed over the whole multitude of things, and\nnothing that is, however small or however great, is devoid of it? And,\nindeed, the very supposition of this is absurd, for how can that which\nis, be devoid of being?\n\nIn no way.\n\nAnd it is divided into the greatest and into the smallest, and into\nbeing of all sizes, and is broken up more than all things; the divisions\nof it have no limit.\n\nTrue.\n\nThen it has the greatest number of parts?\n\nYes, the greatest number.\n\nIs there any of these which is a part of being, and yet no part?\n\nImpossible.\n\nBut if it is at all and so long as it is, it must be one, and cannot be\nnone?\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen the one attaches to every single part of being, and does not fail\nin any part, whether great or small, or whatever may be the size of it?\n\nTrue.\n\nBut reflect:--Can one, in its entirety, be in many places at the same\ntime?\n\nNo; I see the impossibility of that.\n\nAnd if not in its entirety, then it is divided; for it cannot be present\nwith all the parts of being, unless divided.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd that which has parts will be as many as the parts are?\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen we were wrong in saying just now, that being was distributed into\nthe greatest number of parts. For it is not distributed into parts more\nthan the one, into parts equal to the one; the one is never wanting\nto being, or being to the one, but being two they are co-equal and\nco-extensive.\n\nCertainly that is true.\n\nThe one itself, then, having been broken up into parts by being, is many\nand infinite?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen not only the one which has being is many, but the one itself\ndistributed by being, must also be many?\n\nCertainly.\n\nFurther, inasmuch as the parts are parts of a whole, the one, as a\nwhole, will be limited; for are not the parts contained by the whole?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd that which contains, is a limit?\n\nOf course.\n\nThen the one if it has being is one and many, whole and parts, having\nlimits and yet unlimited in number?\n\nClearly.\n\nAnd because having limits, also having extremes?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd if a whole, having beginning and middle and end. For can anything\nbe a whole without these three? And if any one of them is wanting to\nanything, will that any longer be a whole?\n\nNo.\n\nThen the one, as appears, will have beginning, middle, and end.\n\nIt will.\n\nBut, again, the middle will be equidistant from the extremes; or it\nwould not be in the middle?\n\nYes.\n\nThen the one will partake of figure, either rectilinear or round, or a\nunion of the two?\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd if this is the case, it will be both in itself and in another too.\n\nHow?\n\nEvery part is in the whole, and none is outside the whole.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd all the parts are contained by the whole?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd the one is all its parts, and neither more nor less than all?\n\nNo.\n\nAnd the one is the whole?\n\nOf course.\n\nBut if all the parts are in the whole, and the one is all of them and\nthe whole, and they are all contained by the whole, the one will be\ncontained by the one; and thus the one will be in itself.\n\nThat is true.\n\nBut then, again, the whole is not in the parts--neither in all the\nparts, nor in some one of them. For if it is in all, it must be in one;\nfor if there were any one in which it was not, it could not be in all\nthe parts; for the part in which it is wanting is one of all, and if the\nwhole is not in this, how can it be in them all?\n\nIt cannot.\n\nNor can the whole be in some of the parts; for if the whole were in some\nof the parts, the greater would be in the less, which is impossible.\n\nYes, impossible.\n\nBut if the whole is neither in one, nor in more than one, nor in all of\nthe parts, it must be in something else, or cease to be anywhere at all?\n\nCertainly.\n\nIf it were nowhere, it would be nothing; but being a whole, and not\nbeing in itself, it must be in another.\n\nVery true.\n\nThe one then, regarded as a whole, is in another, but regarded as being\nall its parts, is in itself; and therefore the one must be itself in\nitself and also in another.\n\nCertainly.\n\nThe one then, being of this nature, is of necessity both at rest and in\nmotion?\n\nHow?\n\nThe one is at rest since it is in itself, for being in one, and not\npassing out of this, it is in the same, which is itself.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd that which is ever in the same, must be ever at rest?\n\nCertainly.\n\nWell, and must not that, on the contrary, which is ever in other, never\nbe in the same; and if never in the same, never at rest, and if not at\nrest, in motion?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen the one being always itself in itself and other, must always be\nboth at rest and in motion?\n\nClearly.\n\nAnd must be the same with itself, and other than itself; and also the\nsame with the others, and other than the others; this follows from its\nprevious affections.\n\nHow so?\n\nEverything in relation to every other thing, is either the same or\nother; or if neither the same nor other, then in the relation of a part\nto a whole, or of a whole to a part.\n\nClearly.\n\nAnd is the one a part of itself?\n\nCertainly not.\n\nSince it is not a part in relation to itself it cannot be related to\nitself as whole to part?\n\nIt cannot.\n\nBut is the one other than one?\n\nNo.\n\nAnd therefore not other than itself?\n\nCertainly not.\n\nIf then it be neither other, nor a whole, nor a part in relation to\nitself, must it not be the same with itself?\n\nCertainly.\n\nBut then, again, a thing which is in another place from 'itself,' if\nthis 'itself' remains in the same place with itself, must be other than\n'itself,' for it will be in another place?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen the one has been shown to be at once in itself and in another?\n\nYes.\n\nThus, then, as appears, the one will be other than itself?\n\nTrue.\n\nWell, then, if anything be other than anything, will it not be other\nthan that which is other?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd will not all things that are not one, be other than the one, and the\none other than the not-one?\n\nOf course.\n\nThen the one will be other than the others?\n\nTrue.\n\nBut, consider:--Are not the absolute same, and the absolute other,\nopposites to one another?\n\nOf course.\n\nThen will the same ever be in the other, or the other in the same?\n\nThey will not.\n\nIf then the other is never in the same, there is nothing in which\nthe other is during any space of time; for during that space of time,\nhowever small, the other would be in the same. Is not that true?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd since the other is never in the same, it can never be in anything\nthat is.\n\nTrue.\n\nThen the other will never be either in the not-one, or in the one?\n\nCertainly not.\n\nThen not by reason of otherness is the one other than the not-one, or\nthe not-one other than the one.\n\nNo.\n\nNor by reason of themselves will they be other than one another, if not\npartaking of the other.\n\nHow can they be?\n\nBut if they are not other, either by reason of themselves or of the\nother, will they not altogether escape being other than one another?\n\nThey will.\n\nAgain, the not-one cannot partake of the one; otherwise it would not\nhave been not-one, but would have been in some way one.\n\nTrue.\n\nNor can the not-one be number; for having number, it would not have been\nnot-one at all.\n\nIt would not.\n\nAgain, is the not-one part of the one; or rather, would it not in that\ncase partake of the one?\n\nIt would.\n\nIf then, in every point of view, the one and the not-one are distinct,\nthen neither is the one part or whole of the not-one, nor is the not-one\npart or whole of the one?\n\nNo.\n\nBut we said that things which are neither parts nor wholes of one\nanother, nor other than one another, will be the same with one\nanother:--so we said?\n\nYes.\n\nThen shall we say that the one, being in this relation to the not-one,\nis the same with it?\n\nLet us say so.\n\nThen it is the same with itself and the others, and also other than\nitself and the others.\n\nThat appears to be the inference.\n\nAnd it will also be like and unlike itself and the others?\n\nPerhaps.\n\nSince the one was shown to be other than the others, the others will\nalso be other than the one.\n\nYes.\n\nAnd the one is other than the others in the same degree that the others\nare other than it, and neither more nor less?\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd if neither more nor less, then in a like degree?\n\nYes.\n\nIn virtue of the affection by which the one is other than others and\nothers in like manner other than it, the one will be affected like the\nothers and the others like the one.\n\nHow do you mean?\n\nI may take as an illustration the case of names: You give a name to a\nthing?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd you may say the name once or oftener?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd when you say it once, you mention that of which it is the name? and\nwhen more than once, is it something else which you mention? or must it\nalways be the same thing of which you speak, whether you utter the name\nonce or more than once?\n\nOf course it is the same.\n\nAnd is not 'other' a name given to a thing?\n\nCertainly.\n\nWhenever, then, you use the word 'other,' whether once or oftener, you\nname that of which it is the name, and to no other do you give the name?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen when we say that the others are other than the one, and the one\nother than the others, in repeating the word 'other' we speak of that\nnature to which the name is applied, and of no other?\n\nQuite true.\n\nThen the one which is other than others, and the other which is other\nthan the one, in that the word 'other' is applied to both, will be in\nthe same condition; and that which is in the same condition is like?\n\nYes.\n\nThen in virtue of the affection by which the one is other than the\nothers, every thing will be like every thing, for every thing is other\nthan every thing.\n\nTrue.\n\nAgain, the like is opposed to the unlike?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd the other to the same?\n\nTrue again.\n\nAnd the one was also shown to be the same with the others?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd to be the same with the others is the opposite of being other than\nthe others?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd in that it was other it was shown to be like?\n\nYes.\n\nBut in that it was the same it will be unlike by virtue of the opposite\naffection to that which made it like; and this was the affection of\notherness.\n\nYes.\n\nThe same then will make it unlike; otherwise it will not be the opposite\nof the other.\n\nTrue.\n\nThen the one will be both like and unlike the others; like in so far as\nit is other, and unlike in so far as it is the same.\n\nYes, that argument may be used.\n\nAnd there is another argument.\n\nWhat?\n\nIn so far as it is affected in the same way it is not affected\notherwise, and not being affected otherwise is not unlike, and not\nbeing unlike, is like; but in so far as it is affected by other it is\notherwise, and being otherwise affected is unlike.\n\nTrue.\n\nThen because the one is the same with the others and other than the\nothers, on either of these two grounds, or on both of them, it will be\nboth like and unlike the others?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd in the same way as being other than itself and the same with itself,\non either of these two grounds and on both of them, it will be like and\nunlike itself?\n\nOf course.\n\nAgain, how far can the one touch or not touch itself and\nothers?--consider.\n\nI am considering.\n\nThe one was shown to be in itself which was a whole?\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd also in other things?\n\nYes.\n\nIn so far as it is in other things it would touch other things, but in\nso far as it is in itself it would be debarred from touching them, and\nwould touch itself only.\n\nClearly.\n\nThen the inference is that it would touch both?\n\nIt would.\n\nBut what do you say to a new point of view? Must not that which is to\ntouch another be next to that which it is to touch, and occupy the place\nnearest to that in which what it touches is situated?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen the one, if it is to touch itself, ought to be situated next to\nitself, and occupy the place next to that in which itself is?\n\nIt ought.\n\nAnd that would require that the one should be two, and be in two places\nat once, and this, while it is one, will never happen.\n\nNo.\n\nThen the one cannot touch itself any more than it can be two?\n\nIt cannot.\n\nNeither can it touch others.\n\nWhy not?\n\nThe reason is, that whatever is to touch another must be in separation\nfrom, and next to, that which it is to touch, and no third thing can be\nbetween them.\n\nTrue.\n\nTwo things, then, at the least are necessary to make contact possible?\n\nThey are.\n\nAnd if to the two a third be added in due order, the number of terms\nwill be three, and the contacts two?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd every additional term makes one additional contact, whence it\nfollows that the contacts are one less in number than the terms; the\nfirst two terms exceeded the number of contacts by one, and the whole\nnumber of terms exceeds the whole number of contacts by one in like\nmanner; and for every one which is afterwards added to the number of\nterms, one contact is added to the contacts.\n\nTrue.\n\nWhatever is the whole number of things, the contacts will be always one\nless.\n\nTrue.\n\nBut if there be only one, and not two, there will be no contact?\n\nHow can there be?\n\nAnd do we not say that the others being other than the one are not one\nand have no part in the one?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen they have no number, if they have no one in them?\n\nOf course not.\n\nThen the others are neither one nor two, nor are they called by the name\nof any number?\n\nNo.\n\nOne, then, alone is one, and two do not exist?\n\nClearly not.\n\nAnd if there are not two, there is no contact?\n\nThere is not.\n\nThen neither does the one touch the others, nor the others the one, if\nthere is no contact?\n\nCertainly not.\n\nFor all which reasons the one touches and does not touch itself and the\nothers?\n\nTrue.\n\nFurther--is the one equal and unequal to itself and others?\n\nHow do you mean?\n\nIf the one were greater or less than the others, or the others greater\nor less than the one, they would not be greater or less than each other\nin virtue of their being the one and the others; but, if in addition to\ntheir being what they are they had equality, they would be equal to one\nanother, or if the one had smallness and the others greatness, or the\none had greatness and the others smallness--whichever kind had greatness\nwould be greater, and whichever had smallness would be smaller?\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen there are two such ideas as greatness and smallness; for if they\nwere not they could not be opposed to each other and be present in that\nwhich is.\n\nHow could they?\n\nIf, then, smallness is present in the one it will be present either in\nthe whole or in a part of the whole?\n\nCertainly.\n\nSuppose the first; it will be either co-equal and co-extensive with the\nwhole one, or will contain the one?\n\nClearly.\n\nIf it be co-extensive with the one it will be co-equal with the one, or\nif containing the one it will be greater than the one?\n\nOf course.\n\nBut can smallness be equal to anything or greater than anything, and\nhave the functions of greatness and equality and not its own functions?\n\nImpossible.\n\nThen smallness cannot be in the whole of one, but, if at all, in a part\nonly?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd surely not in all of a part, for then the difficulty of the whole\nwill recur; it will be equal to or greater than any part in which it is.\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen smallness will not be in anything, whether in a whole or in a part;\nnor will there be anything small but actual smallness.\n\nTrue.\n\nNeither will greatness be in the one, for if greatness be in anything\nthere will be something greater other and besides greatness itself,\nnamely, that in which greatness is; and this too when the small itself\nis not there, which the one, if it is great, must exceed; this, however,\nis impossible, seeing that smallness is wholly absent.\n\nTrue.\n\nBut absolute greatness is only greater than absolute smallness, and\nsmallness is only smaller than absolute greatness.\n\nVery true.\n\nThen other things not greater or less than the one, if they have neither\ngreatness nor smallness; nor have greatness or smallness any power of\nexceeding or being exceeded in relation to the one, but only in relation\nto one another; nor will the one be greater or less than them or others,\nif it has neither greatness nor smallness.\n\nClearly not.\n\nThen if the one is neither greater nor less than the others, it cannot\neither exceed or be exceeded by them?\n\nCertainly not.\n\nAnd that which neither exceeds nor is exceeded, must be on an equality;\nand being on an equality, must be equal.\n\nOf course.\n\nAnd this will be true also of the relation of the one to itself; having\nneither greatness nor smallness in itself, it will neither exceed nor be\nexceeded by itself, but will be on an equality with and equal to itself.\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen the one will be equal both to itself and the others?\n\nClearly so.\n\nAnd yet the one, being itself in itself, will also surround and be\nwithout itself; and, as containing itself, will be greater than itself;\nand, as contained in itself, will be less; and will thus be greater and\nless than itself.\n\nIt will.\n\nNow there cannot possibly be anything which is not included in the one\nand the others?\n\nOf course not.\n\nBut, surely, that which is must always be somewhere?\n\nYes.\n\nBut that which is in anything will be less, and that in which it is will\nbe greater; in no other way can one thing be in another.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd since there is nothing other or besides the one and the others, and\nthey must be in something, must they not be in one another, the one in\nthe others and the others in the one, if they are to be anywhere?\n\nThat is clear.\n\nBut inasmuch as the one is in the others, the others will be greater\nthan the one, because they contain the one, which will be less than the\nothers, because it is contained in them; and inasmuch as the others\nare in the one, the one on the same principle will be greater than the\nothers, and the others less than the one.\n\nTrue.\n\nThe one, then, will be equal to and greater and less than itself and the\nothers?\n\nClearly.\n\nAnd if it be greater and less and equal, it will be of equal and more\nand less measures or divisions than itself and the others, and if of\nmeasures, also of parts?\n\nOf course.\n\nAnd if of equal and more and less measures or divisions, it will be in\nnumber more or less than itself and the others, and likewise equal in\nnumber to itself and to the others?\n\nHow is that?\n\nIt will be of more measures than those things which it exceeds, and of\nas many parts as measures; and so with that to which it is equal, and\nthat than which it is less.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd being greater and less than itself, and equal to itself, it will\nbe of equal measures with itself and of more and fewer measures than\nitself; and if of measures then also of parts?\n\nIt will.\n\nAnd being of equal parts with itself, it will be numerically equal to\nitself; and being of more parts, more, and being of less, less than\nitself?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd the same will hold of its relation to other things; inasmuch as it\nis greater than them, it will be more in number than them; and inasmuch\nas it is smaller, it will be less in number; and inasmuch as it is equal\nin size to other things, it will be equal to them in number.\n\nCertainly.\n\nOnce more, then, as would appear, the one will be in number both equal\nto and more and less than both itself and all other things.\n\nIt will.\n\nDoes the one also partake of time? And is it and does it become older\nand younger than itself and others, and again, neither younger nor older\nthan itself and others, by virtue of participation in time?\n\nHow do you mean?\n\nIf one is, being must be predicated of it?\n\nYes.\n\nBut to be (einai) is only participation of being in present time, and to\nhave been is the participation of being at a past time, and to be about\nto be is the participation of being at a future time?\n\nVery true.\n\nThen the one, since it partakes of being, partakes of time?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd is not time always moving forward?\n\nYes.\n\nThen the one is always becoming older than itself, since it moves\nforward in time?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd do you remember that the older becomes older than that which becomes\nyounger?\n\nI remember.\n\nThen since the one becomes older than itself, it becomes younger at the\nsame time?\n\nCertainly.\n\nThus, then, the one becomes older as well as younger than itself?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd it is older (is it not?) when in becoming, it gets to the point of\ntime between 'was' and 'will be,' which is 'now': for surely in going\nfrom the past to the future, it cannot skip the present?\n\nNo.\n\nAnd when it arrives at the present it stops from becoming older, and\nno longer becomes, but is older, for if it went on it would never be\nreached by the present, for it is the nature of that which goes on,\nto touch both the present and the future, letting go the present and\nseizing the future, while in process of becoming between them.\n\nTrue.\n\nBut that which is becoming cannot skip the present; when it reaches the\npresent it ceases to become, and is then whatever it may happen to be\nbecoming.\n\nClearly.\n\nAnd so the one, when in becoming older it reaches the present, ceases to\nbecome, and is then older.\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd it is older than that than which it was becoming older, and it was\nbecoming older than itself.\n\nYes.\n\nAnd that which is older is older than that which is younger?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen the one is younger than itself, when in becoming older it reaches\nthe present?\n\nCertainly.\n\nBut the present is always present with the one during all its being; for\nwhenever it is it is always now.\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen the one always both is and becomes older and younger than itself?\n\nTruly.\n\nAnd is it or does it become a longer time than itself or an equal time\nwith itself?\n\nAn equal time.\n\nBut if it becomes or is for an equal time with itself, it is of the same\nage with itself?\n\nOf course.\n\nAnd that which is of the same age, is neither older nor younger?\n\nNo.\n\nThe one, then, becoming and being the same time with itself, neither is\nnor becomes older or younger than itself?\n\nI should say not.\n\nAnd what are its relations to other things? Is it or does it become\nolder or younger than they?\n\nI cannot tell you.\n\nYou can at least tell me that others than the one are more than the\none--other would have been one, but the others have multitude, and are\nmore than one?\n\nThey will have multitude.\n\nAnd a multitude implies a number larger than one?\n\nOf course.\n\nAnd shall we say that the lesser or the greater is the first to come or\nto have come into existence?\n\nThe lesser.\n\nThen the least is the first? And that is the one?\n\nYes.\n\nThen the one of all things that have number is the first to come into\nbeing; but all other things have also number, being plural and not\nsingular.\n\nThey have.\n\nAnd since it came into being first it must be supposed to have come into\nbeing prior to the others, and the others later; and the things which\ncame into being later, are younger than that which preceded them? And\nso the other things will be younger than the one, and the one older than\nother things?\n\nTrue.\n\nWhat would you say of another question? Can the one have come into being\ncontrary to its own nature, or is that impossible?\n\nImpossible.\n\nAnd yet, surely, the one was shown to have parts; and if parts, then a\nbeginning, middle and end?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd a beginning, both of the one itself and of all other things, comes\ninto being first of all; and after the beginning, the others follow,\nuntil you reach the end?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd all these others we shall affirm to be parts of the whole and of the\none, which, as soon as the end is reached, has become whole and one?\n\nYes; that is what we shall say.\n\nBut the end comes last, and the one is of such a nature as to come into\nbeing with the last; and, since the one cannot come into being except in\naccordance with its own nature, its nature will require that it should\ncome into being after the others, simultaneously with the end.\n\nClearly.\n\nThen the one is younger than the others and the others older than the\none.\n\nThat also is clear in my judgment.\n\nWell, and must not a beginning or any other part of the one or of\nanything, if it be a part and not parts, being a part, be also of\nnecessity one?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd will not the one come into being together with each part--together\nwith the first part when that comes into being, and together with the\nsecond part and with all the rest, and will not be wanting to any part,\nwhich is added to any other part until it has reached the last and\nbecome one whole; it will be wanting neither to the middle, nor to\nthe first, nor to the last, nor to any of them, while the process of\nbecoming is going on?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen the one is of the same age with all the others, so that if the one\nitself does not contradict its own nature, it will be neither prior\nnor posterior to the others, but simultaneous; and according to this\nargument the one will be neither older nor younger than the others, nor\nthe others than the one, but according to the previous argument the one\nwill be older and younger than the others and the others than the one.\n\nCertainly.\n\nAfter this manner then the one is and has become. But as to its becoming\nolder and younger than the others, and the others than the one, and\nneither older nor younger, what shall we say? Shall we say as of being\nso also of becoming, or otherwise?\n\nI cannot answer.\n\nBut I can venture to say, that even if one thing were older or younger\nthan another, it could not become older or younger in a greater degree\nthan it was at first; for equals added to unequals, whether to periods\nof time or to anything else, leave the difference between them the same\nas at first.\n\nOf course.\n\nThen that which is, cannot become older or younger than that which\nis, since the difference of age is always the same; the one is and has\nbecome older and the other younger; but they are no longer becoming so.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd the one which is does not therefore become either older or younger\nthan the others which are.\n\nNo.\n\nBut consider whether they may not become older and younger in another\nway.\n\nIn what way?\n\nJust as the one was proven to be older than the others and the others\nthan the one.\n\nAnd what of that?\n\nIf the one is older than the others, has come into being a longer time\nthan the others.\n\nYes.\n\nBut consider again; if we add equal time to a greater and a less time,\nwill the greater differ from the less time by an equal or by a smaller\nportion than before?\n\nBy a smaller portion.\n\nThen the difference between the age of the one and the age of the others\nwill not be afterwards so great as at first, but if an equal time be\nadded to both of them they will differ less and less in age?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd that which differs in age from some other less than formerly, from\nbeing older will become younger in relation to that other than which it\nwas older?\n\nYes, younger.\n\nAnd if the one becomes younger the others aforesaid will become older\nthan they were before, in relation to the one.\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen that which had become younger becomes older relatively to that\nwhich previously had become and was older; it never really is older, but\nis always becoming, for the one is always growing on the side of youth\nand the other on the side of age. And in like manner the older is always\nin process of becoming younger than the younger; for as they are always\ngoing in opposite directions they become in ways the opposite to one\nanother, the younger older than the older, and the older younger than\nthe younger. They cannot, however, have become; for if they had already\nbecome they would be and not merely become. But that is impossible; for\nthey are always becoming both older and younger than one another: the\none becomes younger than the others because it was seen to be older and\nprior, and the others become older than the one because they came into\nbeing later; and in the same way the others are in the same relation to\nthe one, because they were seen to be older, and prior to the one.\n\nThat is clear.\n\nInasmuch then, one thing does not become older or younger than another,\nin that they always differ from each other by an equal number, the one\ncannot become older or younger than the others, nor the others than the\none; but inasmuch as that which came into being earlier and that which\ncame into being later must continually differ from each other by a\ndifferent portion--in this point of view the others must become older\nand younger than the one, and the one than the others.\n\nCertainly.\n\nFor all these reasons, then, the one is and becomes older and younger\nthan itself and the others, and neither is nor becomes older or younger\nthan itself or the others.\n\nCertainly.\n\nBut since the one partakes of time, and partakes of becoming older and\nyounger, must it not also partake of the past, the present, and the\nfuture?\n\nOf course it must.\n\nThen the one was and is and will be, and was becoming and is becoming\nand will become?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd there is and was and will be something which is in relation to it\nand belongs to it?\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd since we have at this moment opinion and knowledge and perception of\nthe one, there is opinion and knowledge and perception of it?\n\nQuite right.\n\nThen there is name and expression for it, and it is named and expressed,\nand everything of this kind which appertains to other things appertains\nto the one.\n\nCertainly, that is true.\n\nYet once more and for the third time, let us consider: If the one is\nboth one and many, as we have described, and is neither one nor many,\nand participates in time, must it not, in as far as it is one, at times\npartake of being, and in as far as it is not one, at times not partake\nof being?\n\nCertainly.\n\nBut can it partake of being when not partaking of being, or not partake\nof being when partaking of being?\n\nImpossible.\n\nThen the one partakes and does not partake of being at different times,\nfor that is the only way in which it can partake and not partake of the\nsame.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd is there not also a time at which it assumes being and relinquishes\nbeing--for how can it have and not have the same thing unless it\nreceives and also gives it up at some time?\n\nImpossible.\n\nAnd the assuming of being is what you would call becoming?\n\nI should.\n\nAnd the relinquishing of being you would call destruction?\n\nI should.\n\nThe one then, as would appear, becomes and is destroyed by taking and\ngiving up being.\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd being one and many and in process of becoming and being destroyed,\nwhen it becomes one it ceases to be many, and when many, it ceases to be\none?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd as it becomes one and many, must it not inevitably experience\nseparation and aggregation?\n\nInevitably.\n\nAnd whenever it becomes like and unlike it must be assimilated and\ndissimilated?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd when it becomes greater or less or equal it must grow or diminish or\nbe equalized?\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd when being in motion it rests, and when being at rest it changes to\nmotion, it can surely be in no time at all?\n\nHow can it?\n\nBut that a thing which is previously at rest should be afterwards\nin motion, or previously in motion and afterwards at rest, without\nexperiencing change, is impossible.\n\nImpossible.\n\nAnd surely there cannot be a time in which a thing can be at once\nneither in motion nor at rest?\n\nThere cannot.\n\nBut neither can it change without changing.\n\nTrue.\n\nWhen then does it change; for it cannot change either when at rest, or\nwhen in motion, or when in time?\n\nIt cannot.\n\nAnd does this strange thing in which it is at the time of changing\nreally exist?\n\nWhat thing?\n\nThe moment. For the moment seems to imply a something out of which\nchange takes place into either of two states; for the change is not from\nthe state of rest as such, nor from the state of motion as such; but\nthere is this curious nature which we call the moment lying between rest\nand motion, not being in any time; and into this and out of this what is\nin motion changes into rest, and what is at rest into motion.\n\nSo it appears.\n\nAnd the one then, since it is at rest and also in motion, will change\nto either, for only in this way can it be in both. And in changing it\nchanges in a moment, and when it is changing it will be in no time, and\nwill not then be either in motion or at rest.\n\nIt will not.\n\nAnd it will be in the same case in relation to the other changes, when\nit passes from being into cessation of being, or from not-being into\nbecoming--then it passes between certain states of motion and rest, and\nneither is nor is not, nor becomes nor is destroyed.\n\nVery true.\n\nAnd on the same principle, in the passage from one to many and from\nmany to one, the one is neither one nor many, neither separated nor\naggregated; and in the passage from like to unlike, and from unlike to\nlike, it is neither like nor unlike, neither in a state of assimilation\nnor of dissimilation; and in the passage from small to great and equal\nand back again, it will be neither small nor great, nor equal, nor in a\nstate of increase, or diminution, or equalization.\n\nTrue.\n\nAll these, then, are the affections of the one, if the one has being.\n\nOf course.\n\n1.aa. But if one is, what will happen to the others--is not that also to\nbe considered?\n\nYes.\n\nLet us show then, if one is, what will be the affections of the others\nthan the one.\n\nLet us do so.\n\nInasmuch as there are things other than the one, the others are not the\none; for if they were they could not be other than the one.\n\nVery true.\n\nNor are the others altogether without the one, but in a certain way they\nparticipate in the one.\n\nIn what way?\n\nBecause the others are other than the one inasmuch as they have parts;\nfor if they had no parts they would be simply one.\n\nRight.\n\nAnd parts, as we affirm, have relation to a whole?\n\nSo we say.\n\nAnd a whole must necessarily be one made up of many; and the parts will\nbe parts of the one, for each of the parts is not a part of many, but of\na whole.\n\nHow do you mean?\n\nIf anything were a part of many, being itself one of them, it will\nsurely be a part of itself, which is impossible, and it will be a part\nof each one of the other parts, if of all; for if not a part of some\none, it will be a part of all the others but this one, and thus will not\nbe a part of each one; and if not a part of each, one it will not be a\npart of any one of the many; and not being a part of any one, it cannot\nbe a part or anything else of all those things of none of which it is\nanything.\n\nClearly not.\n\nThen the part is not a part of the many, nor of all, but is of a certain\nsingle form, which we call a whole, being one perfect unity framed out\nof all--of this the part will be a part.\n\nCertainly.\n\nIf, then, the others have parts, they will participate in the whole and\nin the one.\n\nTrue.\n\nThen the others than the one must be one perfect whole, having parts.\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd the same argument holds of each part, for the part must participate\nin the one; for if each of the parts is a part, this means, I suppose,\nthat it is one separate from the rest and self-related; otherwise it is\nnot each.\n\nTrue.\n\nBut when we speak of the part participating in the one, it must clearly\nbe other than one; for if not, it would not merely have participated,\nbut would have been one; whereas only the one itself can be one.\n\nVery true.\n\nBoth the whole and the part must participate in the one; for the whole\nwill be one whole, of which the parts will be parts; and each part will\nbe one part of the whole which is the whole of the part.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd will not the things which participate in the one, be other than it?\n\nOf course.\n\nAnd the things which are other than the one will be many; for if the\nthings which are other than the one were neither one nor more than one,\nthey would be nothing.\n\nTrue.\n\nBut, seeing that the things which participate in the one as a part, and\nin the one as a whole, are more than one, must not those very things\nwhich participate in the one be infinite in number?\n\nHow so?\n\nLet us look at the matter thus:--Is it not a fact that in partaking of\nthe one they are not one, and do not partake of the one at the very time\nwhen they are partaking of it?\n\nClearly.\n\nThey do so then as multitudes in which the one is not present?\n\nVery true.\n\nAnd if we were to abstract from them in idea the very smallest fraction,\nmust not that least fraction, if it does not partake of the one, be a\nmultitude and not one?\n\nIt must.\n\nAnd if we continue to look at the other side of their nature, regarded\nsimply, and in itself, will not they, as far as we see them, be\nunlimited in number?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd yet, when each several part becomes a part, then the parts have\na limit in relation to the whole and to each other, and the whole in\nrelation to the parts.\n\nJust so.\n\nThe result to the others than the one is that the union of themselves\nand the one appears to create a new element in them which gives to them\nlimitation in relation to one another; whereas in their own nature they\nhave no limit.\n\nThat is clear.\n\nThen the others than the one, both as whole and parts, are infinite, and\nalso partake of limit.\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen they are both like and unlike one another and themselves.\n\nHow is that?\n\nInasmuch as they are unlimited in their own nature, they are all\naffected in the same way.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd inasmuch as they all partake of limit, they are all affected in the\nsame way.\n\nOf course.\n\nBut inasmuch as their state is both limited and unlimited, they are\naffected in opposite ways.\n\nYes.\n\nAnd opposites are the most unlike of things.\n\nCertainly.\n\nConsidered, then, in regard to either one of their affections, they will\nbe like themselves and one another; considered in reference to both of\nthem together, most opposed and most unlike.\n\nThat appears to be true.\n\nThen the others are both like and unlike themselves and one another?\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd they are the same and also different from one another, and in motion\nand at rest, and experience every sort of opposite affection, as may be\nproved without difficulty of them, since they have been shown to have\nexperienced the affections aforesaid?\n\nTrue.\n\n1.bb. Suppose, now, that we leave the further discussion of these\nmatters as evident, and consider again upon the hypothesis that the\none is, whether opposite of all this is or is not equally true of the\nothers.\n\nBy all means.\n\nThen let us begin again, and ask, If one is, what must be the affections\nof the others?\n\nLet us ask that question.\n\nMust not the one be distinct from the others, and the others from the\none?\n\nWhy so?\n\nWhy, because there is nothing else beside them which is distinct from\nboth of them; for the expression 'one and the others' includes all\nthings.\n\nYes, all things.\n\nThen we cannot suppose that there is anything different from them in\nwhich both the one and the others might exist?\n\nThere is nothing.\n\nThen the one and the others are never in the same?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen they are separated from each other?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd we surely cannot say that what is truly one has parts?\n\nImpossible.\n\nThen the one will not be in the others as a whole, nor as part, if it be\nseparated from the others, and has no parts?\n\nImpossible.\n\nThen there is no way in which the others can partake of the one, if they\ndo not partake either in whole or in part?\n\nIt would seem not.\n\nThen there is no way in which the others are one, or have in themselves\nany unity?\n\nThere is not.\n\nNor are the others many; for if they were many, each part of them would\nbe a part of the whole; but now the others, not partaking in any way of\nthe one, are neither one nor many, nor whole, nor part.\n\nTrue.\n\nThen the others neither are nor contain two or three, if entirely\ndeprived of the one?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen the others are neither like nor unlike the one, nor is likeness\nand unlikeness in them; for if they were like and unlike, or had in them\nlikeness and unlikeness, they would have two natures in them opposite to\none another.\n\nThat is clear.\n\nBut for that which partakes of nothing to partake of two things was held\nby us to be impossible?\n\nImpossible.\n\nThen the others are neither like nor unlike nor both, for if they were\nlike or unlike they would partake of one of those two natures, which\nwould be one thing, and if they were both they would partake of\nopposites which would be two things, and this has been shown to be\nimpossible.\n\nTrue.\n\nTherefore they are neither the same, nor other, nor in motion, nor at\nrest, nor in a state of becoming, nor of being destroyed, nor greater,\nnor less, nor equal, nor have they experienced anything else of the\nsort; for, if they are capable of experiencing any such affection, they\nwill participate in one and two and three, and odd and even, and in\nthese, as has been proved, they do not participate, seeing that they are\naltogether and in every way devoid of the one.\n\nVery true.\n\nTherefore if one is, the one is all things, and also nothing, both in\nrelation to itself and to other things.\n\nCertainly.\n\n2.a. Well, and ought we not to consider next what will be the\nconsequence if the one is not?\n\nYes; we ought.\n\nWhat is the meaning of the hypothesis--If the one is not; is there any\ndifference between this and the hypothesis--If the not one is not?\n\nThere is a difference, certainly.\n\nIs there a difference only, or rather are not the two expressions--if\nthe one is not, and if the not one is not, entirely opposed?\n\nThey are entirely opposed.\n\nAnd suppose a person to say:--If greatness is not, if smallness is not,\nor anything of that sort, does he not mean, whenever he uses such an\nexpression, that 'what is not' is other than other things?\n\nTo be sure.\n\nAnd so when he says 'If one is not' he clearly means, that what 'is not'\nis other than all others; we know what he means--do we not?\n\nYes, we do.\n\nWhen he says 'one,' he says something which is known; and secondly\nsomething which is other than all other things; it makes no difference\nwhether he predicate of one being or not-being, for that which is said\n'not to be' is known to be something all the same, and is distinguished\nfrom other things.\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen I will begin again, and ask: If one is not, what are the\nconsequences? In the first place, as would appear, there is a knowledge\nof it, or the very meaning of the words, 'if one is not,' would not be\nknown.\n\nTrue.\n\nSecondly, the others differ from it, or it could not be described as\ndifferent from the others?\n\nCertainly.\n\nDifference, then, belongs to it as well as knowledge; for in speaking of\nthe one as different from the others, we do not speak of a difference in\nthe others, but in the one.\n\nClearly so.\n\nMoreover, the one that is not is something and partakes of relation to\n'that,' and 'this,' and 'these,' and the like, and is an attribute of\n'this'; for the one, or the others than the one, could not have been\nspoken of, nor could any attribute or relative of the one that is not\nhave been or been spoken of, nor could it have been said to be anything,\nif it did not partake of 'some,' or of the other relations just now\nmentioned.\n\nTrue.\n\nBeing, then, cannot be ascribed to the one, since it is not; but the\none that is not may or rather must participate in many things, if it and\nnothing else is not; if, however, neither the one nor the one that\nis not is supposed not to be, and we are speaking of something of a\ndifferent nature, we can predicate nothing of it. But supposing that the\none that is not and nothing else is not, then it must participate in the\npredicate 'that,' and in many others.\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd it will have unlikeness in relation to the others, for the others\nbeing different from the one will be of a different kind.\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd are not things of a different kind also other in kind?\n\nOf course.\n\nAnd are not things other in kind unlike?\n\nThey are unlike.\n\nAnd if they are unlike the one, that which they are unlike will clearly\nbe unlike them?\n\nClearly so.\n\nThen the one will have unlikeness in respect of which the others are\nunlike it?\n\nThat would seem to be true.\n\nAnd if unlikeness to other things is attributed to it, it must have\nlikeness to itself.\n\nHow so?\n\nIf the one have unlikeness to one, something else must be meant; nor\nwill the hypothesis relate to one; but it will relate to something other\nthan one?\n\nQuite so.\n\nBut that cannot be.\n\nNo.\n\nThen the one must have likeness to itself?\n\nIt must.\n\nAgain, it is not equal to the others; for if it were equal, then it\nwould at once be and be like them in virtue of the equality; but if one\nhas no being, then it can neither be nor be like?\n\nIt cannot.\n\nBut since it is not equal to the others, neither can the others be equal\nto it?\n\nCertainly not.\n\nAnd things that are not equal are unequal?\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd they are unequal to an unequal?\n\nOf course.\n\nThen the one partakes of inequality, and in respect of this the others\nare unequal to it?\n\nVery true.\n\nAnd inequality implies greatness and smallness?\n\nYes.\n\nThen the one, if of such a nature, has greatness and smallness?\n\nThat appears to be true.\n\nAnd greatness and smallness always stand apart?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen there is always something between them?\n\nThere is.\n\nAnd can you think of anything else which is between them other than\nequality?\n\nNo, it is equality which lies between them.\n\nThen that which has greatness and smallness also has equality, which\nlies between them?\n\nThat is clear.\n\nThen the one, which is not, partakes, as would appear, of greatness and\nsmallness and equality?\n\nClearly.\n\nFurther, it must surely in a sort partake of being?\n\nHow so?\n\nIt must be so, for if not, then we should not speak the truth in saying\nthat the one is not. But if we speak the truth, clearly we must say what\nis. Am I not right?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd since we affirm that we speak truly, we must also affirm that we say\nwhat is?\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen, as would appear, the one, when it is not, is; for if it were\nnot to be when it is not, but (Or, 'to remit something of existence in\nrelation to not-being.') were to relinquish something of being, so as to\nbecome not-being, it would at once be.\n\nQuite true.\n\nThen the one which is not, if it is to maintain itself, must have the\nbeing of not-being as the bond of not-being, just as being must have as\na bond the not-being of not-being in order to perfect its own being;\nfor the truest assertion of the being of being and of the not-being of\nnot-being is when being partakes of the being of being, and not of the\nbeing of not-being--that is, the perfection of being; and when not-being\ndoes not partake of the not-being of not-being but of the being of\nnot-being--that is the perfection of not-being.\n\nMost true.\n\nSince then what is partakes of not-being, and what is not of being, must\nnot the one also partake of being in order not to be?\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen the one, if it is not, clearly has being?\n\nClearly.\n\nAnd has not-being also, if it is not?\n\nOf course.\n\nBut can anything which is in a certain state not be in that state\nwithout changing?\n\nImpossible.\n\nThen everything which is and is not in a certain state, implies change?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd change is motion--we may say that?\n\nYes, motion.\n\nAnd the one has been proved both to be and not to be?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd therefore is and is not in the same state?\n\nYes.\n\nThus the one that is not has been shown to have motion also, because it\nchanges from being to not-being?\n\nThat appears to be true.\n\nBut surely if it is nowhere among what is, as is the fact, since it is\nnot, it cannot change from one place to another?\n\nImpossible.\n\nThen it cannot move by changing place?\n\nNo.\n\nNor can it turn on the same spot, for it nowhere touches the same, for\nthe same is, and that which is not cannot be reckoned among things that\nare?\n\nIt cannot.\n\nThen the one, if it is not, cannot turn in that in which it is not?\n\nNo.\n\nNeither can the one, whether it is or is not, be altered into other\nthan itself, for if it altered and became different from itself, then we\ncould not be still speaking of the one, but of something else?\n\nTrue.\n\nBut if the one neither suffers alteration, nor turns round in the same\nplace, nor changes place, can it still be capable of motion?\n\nImpossible.\n\nNow that which is unmoved must surely be at rest, and that which is at\nrest must stand still?\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen the one that is not, stands still, and is also in motion?\n\nThat seems to be true.\n\nBut if it be in motion it must necessarily undergo alteration, for\nanything which is moved, in so far as it is moved, is no longer in the\nsame state, but in another?\n\nYes.\n\nThen the one, being moved, is altered?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd, further, if not moved in any way, it will not be altered in any\nway?\n\nNo.\n\nThen, in so far as the one that is not is moved, it is altered, but in\nso far as it is not moved, it is not altered?\n\nRight.\n\nThen the one that is not is altered and is not altered?\n\nThat is clear.\n\nAnd must not that which is altered become other than it previously\nwas, and lose its former state and be destroyed; but that which is not\naltered can neither come into being nor be destroyed?\n\nVery true.\n\nAnd the one that is not, being altered, becomes and is destroyed; and\nnot being altered, neither becomes nor is destroyed; and so the one that\nis not becomes and is destroyed, and neither becomes nor is destroyed?\n\nTrue.\n\n2.b. And now, let us go back once more to the beginning, and see whether\nthese or some other consequences will follow.\n\nLet us do as you say.\n\nIf one is not, we ask what will happen in respect of one? That is the\nquestion.\n\nYes.\n\nDo not the words 'is not' signify absence of being in that to which we\napply them?\n\nJust so.\n\nAnd when we say that a thing is not, do we mean that it is not in one\nway but is in another? or do we mean, absolutely, that what is not has\nin no sort or way or kind participation of being?\n\nQuite absolutely.\n\nThen, that which is not cannot be, or in any way participate in being?\n\nIt cannot.\n\nAnd did we not mean by becoming, and being destroyed, the assumption of\nbeing and the loss of being?\n\nNothing else.\n\nAnd can that which has no participation in being, either assume or lose\nbeing?\n\nImpossible.\n\nThe one then, since it in no way is, cannot have or lose or assume being\nin any way?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen the one that is not, since it in no way partakes of being, neither\nperishes nor becomes?\n\nNo.\n\nThen it is not altered at all; for if it were it would become and be\ndestroyed?\n\nTrue.\n\nBut if it be not altered it cannot be moved?\n\nCertainly not.\n\nNor can we say that it stands, if it is nowhere; for that which stands\nmust always be in one and the same spot?\n\nOf course.\n\nThen we must say that the one which is not never stands still and never\nmoves?\n\nNeither.\n\nNor is there any existing thing which can be attributed to it; for if\nthere had been, it would partake of being?\n\nThat is clear.\n\nAnd therefore neither smallness, nor greatness, nor equality, can be\nattributed to it?\n\nNo.\n\nNor yet likeness nor difference, either in relation to itself or to\nothers?\n\nClearly not.\n\nWell, and if nothing should be attributed to it, can other things be\nattributed to it?\n\nCertainly not.\n\nAnd therefore other things can neither be like or unlike, the same, or\ndifferent in relation to it?\n\nThey cannot.\n\nNor can what is not, be anything, or be this thing, or be related to or\nthe attribute of this or that or other, or be past, present, or future.\nNor can knowledge, or opinion, or perception, or expression, or name, or\nany other thing that is, have any concern with it?\n\nNo.\n\nThen the one that is not has no condition of any kind?\n\nSuch appears to be the conclusion.\n\n2.aa. Yet once more; if one is not, what becomes of the others? Let us\ndetermine that.\n\nYes; let us determine that.\n\nThe others must surely be; for if they, like the one, were not, we could\nnot be now speaking of them.\n\nTrue.\n\nBut to speak of the others implies difference--the terms 'other' and\n'different' are synonymous?\n\nTrue.\n\nOther means other than other, and different, different from the\ndifferent?\n\nYes.\n\nThen, if there are to be others, there is something than which they will\nbe other?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd what can that be?--for if the one is not, they will not be other\nthan the one.\n\nThey will not.\n\nThen they will be other than each other; for the only remaining\nalternative is that they are other than nothing.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd they are each other than one another, as being plural and not\nsingular; for if one is not, they cannot be singular, but every particle\nof them is infinite in number; and even if a person takes that which\nappears to be the smallest fraction, this, which seemed one, in a moment\nevanesces into many, as in a dream, and from being the smallest becomes\nvery great, in comparison with the fractions into which it is split up?\n\nVery true.\n\nAnd in such particles the others will be other than one another, if\nothers are, and the one is not?\n\nExactly.\n\nAnd will there not be many particles, each appearing to be one, but not\nbeing one, if one is not?\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd it would seem that number can be predicated of them if each of them\nappears to be one, though it is really many?\n\nIt can.\n\nAnd there will seem to be odd and even among them, which will also have\nno reality, if one is not?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd there will appear to be a least among them; and even this will seem\nlarge and manifold in comparison with the many small fractions which are\ncontained in it?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd each particle will be imagined to be equal to the many and little;\nfor it could not have appeared to pass from the greater to the less\nwithout having appeared to arrive at the middle; and thus would arise\nthe appearance of equality.\n\nYes.\n\nAnd having neither beginning, middle, nor end, each separate particle\nyet appears to have a limit in relation to itself and other.\n\nHow so?\n\nBecause, when a person conceives of any one of these as such, prior\nto the beginning another beginning appears, and there is another end,\nremaining after the end, and in the middle truer middles within but\nsmaller, because no unity can be conceived of any of them, since the one\nis not.\n\nVery true.\n\nAnd so all being, whatever we think of, must be broken up into\nfractions, for a particle will have to be conceived of without unity?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd such being when seen indistinctly and at a distance, appears to\nbe one; but when seen near and with keen intellect, every single thing\nappears to be infinite, since it is deprived of the one, which is not?\n\nNothing more certain.\n\nThen each of the others must appear to be infinite and finite, and one\nand many, if others than the one exist and not the one.\n\nThey must.\n\nThen will they not appear to be like and unlike?\n\nIn what way?\n\nJust as in a picture things appear to be all one to a person standing at\na distance, and to be in the same state and alike?\n\nTrue.\n\nBut when you approach them, they appear to be many and different; and\nbecause of the appearance of the difference, different in kind from, and\nunlike, themselves?\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd so must the particles appear to be like and unlike themselves and\neach other.\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd must they not be the same and yet different from one another, and in\ncontact with themselves, although they are separated, and having\nevery sort of motion, and every sort of rest, and becoming and being\ndestroyed, and in neither state, and the like, all which things may be\neasily enumerated, if the one is not and the many are?\n\nMost true.\n\n2.bb. Once more, let us go back to the beginning, and ask if the one is\nnot, and the others of the one are, what will follow.\n\nLet us ask that question.\n\nIn the first place, the others will not be one?\n\nImpossible.\n\nNor will they be many; for if they were many one would be contained\nin them. But if no one of them is one, all of them are nought, and\ntherefore they will not be many.\n\nTrue.\n\nIf there be no one in the others, the others are neither many nor one.\n\nThey are not.\n\nNor do they appear either as one or many.\n\nWhy not?\n\nBecause the others have no sort or manner or way of communion with any\nsort of not-being, nor can anything which is not, be connected with any\nof the others; for that which is not has no parts.\n\nTrue.\n\nNor is there an opinion or any appearance of not-being in connexion with\nthe others, nor is not-being ever in any way attributed to the others.\n\nNo.\n\nThen if one is not, there is no conception of any of the others either\nas one or many; for you cannot conceive the many without the one.\n\nYou cannot.\n\nThen if one is not, the others neither are, nor can be conceived to be\neither one or many?\n\nIt would seem not.\n\nNor as like or unlike?\n\nNo.\n\nNor as the same or different, nor in contact or separation, nor in any\nof those states which we enumerated as appearing to be;--the others\nneither are nor appear to be any of these, if one is not?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen may we not sum up the argument in a word and say truly: If one is\nnot, then nothing is?\n\nCertainly.\n\nLet thus much be said; and further let us affirm what seems to be the\ntruth, that, whether one is or is not, one and the others in relation to\nthemselves and one another, all of them, in every way, are and are not,\nand appear to be and appear not to be.\n\nMost true.","title":"Parmenides","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":35969}