Plato
PARMENIDES
translated
by Benjamin Jowett
Persons of the
Dialogue :
CEPHALUS ; ADEIMANTUS ; GLAUCON ;
ANTIPHON ; PYTHODORUS ;
SOCRATES ; ZENO ;
PARMENIDES ; ARISTOTELES.
Cephalus rehearses a
dialogue which is supposed to have been narrated in his presence by Antiphon,
the half-brother of Adeimantus
and Glaucon, to certain
Clazomenians.
We had come from
our home at Clazomenae to Athens, and met Adeimantus and Glaucon in the Agora.
Welcome, Cephalus, said Adeimantus, taking me by the hand ; is there
anything which we can do for you in Athens ?
Yes ; that is
why I am here ; I wish to ask a favour of you.
What may that
be ? he said.
I want you to tell
me the name of your half brother, which I have forgotten ; he was a mere
child when I last came hither from Clazomenae, but that was a long time
ago ; his father’s name, if I remember rightly, was
Pyrilampes ?
Yes, he said, and
the name of our brother, Antiphon ; but why do you
ask ?
Let me introduce
some countrymen of mine, I said ; they are lovers of philosophy, and have
heard that Antiphon was intimate with a certain Pythodorus, a friend of Zeno,
and remembers a conversation which took place between Socrates, Zeno, and
Parmenides many years ago, Pythodorus having often recited it to
him.
Quite
true.
And could we hear
it ? I asked.
Nothing easier, he
replied ; when he was a youth he made a careful study of the piece ;
at present his thoughts run in another direction ; like his grandfather
Antiphon he is devoted to horses. But, if that is what you want, let us go and
look for him ; he dwells at Melita, which is quite near, and he has only
just left us to go home.
Accordingly we went
to look for him ; he was at home, and in the act of giving a bridle to a
smith to be fitted. When he had done with the smith, his brothers told him the
purpose of our visit ; and he saluted me as an acquaintance whom he
remembered from my former visit, and we asked him to repeat the dialogue. At
first he was not very willing, and complained of the trouble, but at length he
consented.
He told us that
Pythodorus had described to him the appearance of Parmenides and Zeno ;
they came to Athens, as he said, at the great Panathenaea ; the former was,
at the time of his visit, about 65 years old, very white with age, but well
favoured. Zeno was nearly 40 years of age, tall and fair to look upon ; in
the days of his youth he was reported to have been beloved by Parmenides. He
said that they lodged with Pythodorus in the Ceramicus, outside the wall,
whither Socrates, then a very young man, came to see them, and many others with
him ; they wanted to hear the writings of Zeno, which had been brought to
Athens for the first time on the occasion of their visit. These Zeno himself
read to them in the absence of Parmenides, and had very nearly finished when
Pythodorus entered, and with him Parmenides and Aristoteles who was afterwards
one of the Thirty, and heard the little that remained of the dialogue.
Pythodorus had heard Zeno repeat them before.
When the recitation
was completed, Socrates requested that the first thesis of the first argument
might be read over again, and this having been done, he said : What is your
meaning, Zeno ? Do you maintain that if being is many, it must be both like
and unlike, and that this is impossible, for neither can the like be unlike, nor
the unlike like — is that your position ?
Just so, said
Zeno.
And if the unlike
cannot be like, or the like unlike, then according to you, being could not be
many ; for this would involve an impossibility. In all that you say have
you any other purpose except to disprove the being of the many ? and is not
each division of your treatise intended to furnish a separate proof of this,
there being in all as many proofs of the not-being of the many as you have
composed arguments ? Is that your meaning, or have I misunderstood
you ?
No, said
Zeno ; you have correctly understood my general
purpose.
I see, Parmenides,
said Socrates, that Zeno would like to be not only one with you in friendship
but your second self in his writings too ; he puts what you say in another
way, and would fain make believe that he is telling us something which is new.
For you, in your poems, say The All is one, and of this you adduce excellent
proofs ; and he on the other hand says There is no many ; and on
behalf of this he offers overwhelming evidence. You affirm unity, he denies
plurality. And so you deceive the world into believing that you are saying
different things when really you are saying much the same. This is a strain of
art beyond the reach of most of us.
Yes, Socrates, said
Zeno. But although you are as keen as a Spartan hound in pursuing the track, you
do not fully apprehend the true motive of the composition, which is not really
such an artificial work as you imagine ; for what you speak of was an
accident ; there was no pretence of a great purpose ; nor any serious
intention of deceiving the world. The truth is, that these writings of mine were
meant to protect the arguments of Parmenides against those who make fun of him
and seek to show the many ridiculous and contradictory results which they
suppose to follow from the affirmation of the one. My answer is addressed to the
partisans of the many, whose attack I return with interest by retorting upon
them that their hypothesis of the being of many, if carried out, appears to be
still more ridiculous than the hypothesis of the being of one. Zeal for my
master led me to write the book in the days of my youth, but some one stole the
copy ; and therefore I had no choice whether it should be published or
not ; the motive, however, of writing, was not the ambition of an elder
man, but the pugnacity of a young one. This you do not seem to see,
Socrates ; though in other respects, as I was saying, your notion is a very
just one.
I understand, said
Socrates, and quite accept your account. But tell me, Zeno, do you not further
think that there is an idea of likeness in itself, and another idea of
unlikeness, which is the opposite of likeness, and that in these two, you and I
and all other things to which we apply the term many, participate — things which
participate in likeness become in that degree and manner like ; and so far
as they participate in unlikeness become in that degree unlike, or both like and
unlike in the degree in which they participate in both ? And may not all
things partake of both opposites, and be both like and unlike, by reason of this
participation ? — Where is the wonder ? Now if a person could prove
the absolute like to become unlike, or the absolute unlike to become like, that,
in my opinion, would indeed be a wonder ; but there is nothing
extraordinary, Zeno, in showing that the things which only partake of likeness
and unlikeness experience both. Nor, again, if a person were to show that all is
one by partaking of one, and at the same time many by partaking of many, would
that be very astonishing. But if he were to show me that the absolute one was
many, or the absolute many one, I should be truly amazed. And so of all the
rest : I should be surprised to hear that the natures or ideas themselves
had these opposite qualities ; but not if a person wanted to prove of me
that I was many and also one. When he wanted to show that I was many he would
say that I have a right and a left side, and a front and a back, and an upper
and a lower half, for I cannot deny that I partake of multitude ; when, on
the other hand, he wants to prove that I am one, he will say, that we who are
here assembled are seven, and that I am one and partake of the one. In both
instances he proves his case. So again, if a person shows that such things as
wood, stones, and the like, being many are also one, we admit that he shows the
coexistence the one and many, but he does not show that the many are one or the
one many ; he is uttering not a paradox but a truism. If however, as I just
now suggested, some one were to abstract simple notions of like, unlike, one,
many, rest, motion, and similar ideas, and then to show that these admit of
admixture and separation in themselves, I should be very much astonished. This
part of the argument appears to be treated by you, Zeno, in a very spirited
manner ; but, as I was saying, I should be far more amazed if any one found
in the ideas themselves which are apprehended by reason, the same puzzle and
entanglement which you have shown to exist in visible
objects.
While Socrates was
speaking, Pythodorus thought that Parmenides and Zeno were not altogether
pleased at the successive steps of the argument ; but still they gave the
closest attention and often looked at one another, and smiled as if in
admiration of him. When he had finished, Parmenides expressed their feelings in
the following words : —
Socrates, he said,
I admire the bent of your mind towards philosophy ; tell me now, was this
your own distinction between ideas in themselves and the things which partake of
them ? and do you think that there is an idea of likeness apart from the
likeness which we possess, and of the one and many, and of the other things
which Zeno mentioned ?
I think that there
are such ideas, said Socrates.
Parmenides
proceeded : And would you also make absolute ideas of the just and the
beautiful and the good, and of all that class ?
Yes, he said, I
should.
And would you make
an idea of man apart from us and from all other human creatures, or of fire and
water ?
I am often
undecided, Parmenides, as to whether I ought to include them or
not.
And would you feel
equally undecided, Socrates, about things of which the mention may provoke a
smile ? — I mean such things as hair, mud, dirt, or anything else which is
vile and paltry ; would you suppose that each of these has an idea distinct
from the actual objects with which we come into contact, or
not ?
Certainly not, said
Socrates ; visible things like these are such as they appear to us, and I
am afraid that there would be an absurdity in assuming any idea of them,
although I sometimes get disturbed, and begin to think that there is nothing
without an idea ; but then again, when I have taken up this position, I run
away, because I am afraid that I may fall into a bottomless pit of nonsense, and
perish ; and so I return to the ideas of which I was just now speaking, and
occupy myself with them.
Yes, Socrates, said
Parmenides ; that is because you are still young ; the time will come,
if I am not mistaken, when philosophy will have a firmer grasp of you, and then
you will not despise even the meanest things ; at your age, you are too
much disposed to regard opinions of men. But I should like to know whether you
mean that there are certain ideas of which all other things partake, and from
which they derive their names ; that similars, for example, become similar,
because they partake of similarity ; and great things become great, because
they partake of greatness ; and that just and beautiful things become just
and beautiful, because they partake of justice and
beauty ?
Yes, certainly,
said Socrates that is my meaning.
Then each
individual partakes either of the whole of the idea or else of a part of the
idea ? Can there be any other mode of
participation ?
There cannot be, he
said.
Then do you think
that the whole idea is one, and yet, being one, is in each one of the
many ?
Why not,
Parmenides ? said Socrates.
Because one and the
same thing will exist as a whole at the same time in many separate individuals,
and will therefore be in a state of separation from
itself.
Nay, but the idea
may be like the day which is one and the same in many places at once, and yet
continuous with itself ; in this way each idea may be one ; and the
same in all at the same time.
I like your way,
Socrates, of making one in many places at once. You mean to say, that if I were
to spread out a sail and cover a number of men, there would be one whole
including many — is not that your meaning ?
I think
so.
And would you say
that the whole sail includes each man, or a part of it only, and different parts
different men ?
The
latter.
Then, Socrates, the
ideas themselves will be divisible, and things which participate in them will
have a part of them only and not the whole idea existing in each of
them ?
That seems to
follow.
Then would you like
to say, Socrates, that the one idea is really divisible and yet remains
one ?
Certainly not, he
said.
Suppose that you
divide absolute greatness, and that of the many great things, each one is great
in virtue of a portion of greatness less than absolute greatness — is that
conceivable ?
No.
Or will each equal
thing, if possessing some small portion of equality less than absolute equality,
be equal to some other thing by virtue of that portion
only ?
Impossible.
Or suppose one of
us to have a portion of smallness ; this is but a part of the small, and
therefore the absolutely small is greater ; if the absolutely small be
greater, that to which the part of the small is added will be smaller and not
greater than before.
How
absurd !
Then in what way,
Socrates, will all things participate in the ideas, if they are unable to
participate in them either as parts or wholes ?
Indeed, he said,
you have asked a question which is not easily answered.
Well, said
Parmenides, and what do you say of another question ?
What
question ?
I imagine that the
way in which you are led to assume one idea of each kind is as follows : —
You see a number of great objects, and when you look at them there seems to you
to be one and the same idea (or nature) in them all ; hence you conceive of
greatness as one.
Very true, said
Socrates.
And if you go on
and allow your mind in like manner to embrace in one view the idea of greatness
and of great things which are not the idea, and to compare them, will not
another greatness arise, which will appear to be the source of all
these ?
It would seem
so.
Then another idea
of greatness now comes into view over and above absolute greatness, and the
individuals which partake of it ; and then another, over and above all
these, by virtue of which they will all be great, and so each idea instead of
being one will be infinitely multiplied.
But may not the
ideas, asked Socrates, be thoughts only, and have no proper existence except in
our minds, Parmenides ? For in that case each idea may still be one, and
not experience this infinite multiplication.
And can there be
individual thoughts which are thoughts of nothing ?
Impossible, he
said.
The thought must be
of something ?
Yes.
Of something which
is or which is not ?
Of something which
is.
Must it not be of a
single something, which the thought recognizes as attaching to all, being a
single form or nature ?
Yes.
And will not the
something which is apprehended as one and the same in all, be an
idea ?
From that, again,
there is no escape.
Then, said
Parmenides, if you say that everything else participates in the ideas, must you
not say either that everything is made up of thoughts, and that all things
think ; or that they are thoughts but have no
thought ?
The latter view,
Parmenides, is no more rational than the previous one. In my opinion, the ideas
are, as it were, patterns fixed in nature, and other things are like them, and
resemblances of them — what is meant by the participation of other things in the
ideas, is really assimilation to them.
But if, said he,
the individual is like the idea, must not the idea also be like the individual,
in so far as the individual is a resemblance of the idea ? That which is
like, cannot be conceived of as other than the like of
like.
Impossible.
And when two things
are alike, must they not partake of the same idea ?
They
must.
And will not that
of which the two partake, and which makes them alike, be the idea
itself ?
Certainly.
Then the idea
cannot be like the individual, or the individual like the idea ; for if
they are alike, some further idea of likeness will always be coming to light,
and if that be like anything else, another ; and new ideas will be always
arising, if the idea resembles that which partakes of
it ?
Quite
true.
The theory, then
that other things participate in the ideas by resemblance, has to be given up,
and some other mode of participation devised ?
It would seem
so.
Do you see then,
Socrates, how great is the difficulty of affirming the ideas to be
absolute ?
Yes,
indeed.
And, further, let
me say that as yet you only understand a small part of the difficulty which is
involved if you make of each thing a single idea, parting it off from other
things.
What
difficulty ? he said.
There are many, but
the greatest of all is this : — If an opponent argues that these ideas,
being such as we say they ought to be, must remain unknown, no one can prove to
him that he is wrong, unless he who denies their existence be a man of great
ability and knowledge, and is willing to follow a long and laborious
demonstration ; he will remain unconvinced, and still insist that they
cannot be known.
What do you mean,
Parmenides ? said Socrates.
In the first place,
I think, Socrates, that you, or any one who maintains the existence of absolute
essences, will admit that they cannot exist in us.
No, said
Socrates ; for then they would be no longer absolute.
True, he
said ; and therefore when ideas are what they are in relation to one
another, their essence is determined by a relation among themselves, and has
nothing to do with the resemblances, or whatever they are to be termed, which
are in our sphere, and from which we receive this or that name when we partake
of them. And the things which are within our sphere and have the same names with
them, are likewise only relative to one another, and not to the ideas which have
the same names with them, but belong to themselves and not to
them.
What do you
mean ? said Socrates.
I may illustrate my
meaning in this way, said Parmenides : — A master has a slave ; now
there is nothing absolute in the relation between them, which is simply a
relation of one man to another. But there is also an idea of mastership in the
abstract, which is relative to the idea of slavery in the abstract. These
natures have nothing to do with us, nor we with them ; they are concerned
with themselves only, and we with ourselves. Do you see my
meaning ?
Yes, said Socrates,
I quite see your meaning.
And will not
knowledge — I mean absolute knowledge — answer to absolute
truth ?
Certainly.
And each kind of
absolute knowledge will answer to each kind of absolute
being ?
Yes.
But the knowledge
which we have, will answer to the truth which we have ; and again, each
kind of knowledge which we have, will be a knowledge of each kind of being which
we have ?
Certainly.
But the ideas
themselves, as you admit, we have not, and cannot
have ?
No, we
cannot.
And the absolute
natures or kinds are known severally by the absolute idea of
knowledge ?
Yes.
And we have not got
the idea of knowledge ?
No.
Then none of the
ideas are known to us, because we have no share in absolute
knowledge ?
I suppose
not.
Then the nature of
the beautiful in itself, and of the good in itself, and all other ideas which we
suppose to exist absolutely, are unknown to us ?
It would seem
so.
I think that there
is a stranger consequence still.
What is
it ?
Would you, or would
you not say, that absolute knowledge, if there is such a thing, must be a far
more exact knowledge than our knowledge ; and the same of beauty and of the
rest ?
Yes.
And if there be
such a thing as participation in absolute knowledge, no one is more likely than
God to have this most exact knowledge ?
Certainly.
But then, will God,
having absolute knowledge, have a knowledge of human
things ?
Why
not ?
Because, Socrates,
said Parmenides, we have admitted that the ideas are not valid in relation to
human things ; nor human things in relation to them ; the relations of
either are limited to their respective spheres.
Yes, that has been
admitted.
And if God has this
perfect authority, and perfect knowledge, his authority cannot rule us, nor his
knowledge know us, or any human thing ; just as our authority does not
extend to the gods, nor our knowledge know anything which is divine, so by
parity of reason they, being gods, are not our masters, neither do they know the
things of men.
Yet, surely, said
Socrates, to deprive God of knowledge is monstrous.
These, Socrates,
said Parmenides, are a few, and only a few of the difficulties in which we are
involved if ideas really are and we determine each one of them to be an absolute
unity. He who hears what may be said against them will deny the very existence
of them — and even if they do exist, he will say that they must of necessity be
unknown to man ; and he will seem to have reason on his side, and as we
were remarking just now, will be very difficult to convince ; a man must be
gifted with very considerable ability before he can learn that everything has a
class and an absolute essence ; and still more remarkable will he be who
discovers all these things for himself, and having thoroughly investigated them
is able to teach them to others.
I agree with you,
Parmenides, said Socrates ; and what you say is very much to my
mind.
And yet, Socrates,
said Parmenides, if a man, fixing his attention on these and the like
difficulties, does away with ideas of things and will not admit that every
individual thing has its own determinate idea which is always one and the same,
he will have nothing on which his mind can rest ; and so he will utterly
destroy the power of reasoning, as you seem to me to have particularly
noted.
Very true, he
said.
But, then, what is
to become of philosophy ? Whither shall we turn, if the ideas are
unknown ?
I certainly do not
see my way at present.
Yes, said
Parmenides ; and I think that this arises, Socrates, out of your attempting
to define the beautiful, the just, the good, and the ideas generally, without
sufficient previous training. I noticed your deficiency, when I heard you
talking here with your friend Aristoteles, the day before yesterday. The impulse
that carries you towards philosophy is assuredly noble and divine ; but
there is an art which is called by the vulgar idle talking, and which is of
imagined to be useless ; in that you must train and exercise yourself, now
that you are young, or truth will elude your grasp.
And what is the
nature of this exercise, Parmenides, which you would
recommend ?
That which you
heard Zeno practising ; at the same time, I give you credit for saying to
him that you did not care to examine the perplexity in reference to visible
things, or to consider the question that way ; but only in reference to
objects of thought, and to what may be called ideas.
Why, yes, he said,
there appears to me to be no difficulty in showing by this method that visible
things are like and unlike and may experience anything.
Quite true, said
Parmenides ; but I think that you should go a step further, and consider
not only the consequences which flow from a given hypothesis, but also the
consequences which flow from denying the hypothesis ; and that will be
still better training for you.
What do you
mean ? he said.
I mean, for
example, that in the case of this very hypothesis of Zeno’s about the many, you
should inquire not only what will be the consequences to the many in relation to
themselves and to the one, and to the one in relation to itself and the many, on
the hypothesis of the being of the many, but also what will be the consequences
to the one and the many in their relation to themselves and to each other, on
the opposite hypothesis. Or, again, if likeness is or is not, what will be the
consequences in either of these cases to the subjects of the hypothesis, and to
other things, in relation both to themselves and to one another, and so of
unlikeness ; and the same holds good of motion and rest, of generation and
destruction, and even of being and not-being. In a word, when you suppose
anything to be or not to be, or to be in any way affected, you must look at the
consequences in relation to the thing itself, and to any other things which you
choose — to each of them singly, to more than one, and to all ; and so of
other things, you must look at them in relation to themselves and to anything
else which you suppose either to be or not to be, if you would train yourself
perfectly and see the real truth.
That, Parmenides,
is a tremendous business of which you speak, and I do not quite understand
you ; will you take some hypothesis and go through the steps ? — then
I shall apprehend you better.
That, Socrates, is
a serious task to impose on a man of my years.
Then will you,
Zeno ? said Socrates.
Zeno answered with
a smile : — Let us make our petition to Parmenides himself, who is quite
right in saying that you are hardly aware of the extent of the task which you
are imposing on him ; and if there were more of us I should not ask him,
for these are not subjects which any one, especially at his age, can well speak
of before a large audience ; most people are not aware that this
round-about progress through all things is the only way in which the mind can
attain truth and wisdom. And therefore, Parmenides, I join in the request of
Socrates, that I may hear the process again which I have not heard for a long
time.
When Zeno had thus
spoken, Pythodorus, according to Antiphon’s report of him, said, that he himself
and Aristoteles and the whole company entreated Parmenides to give an example of
the process. I cannot refuse, said Parmenides ; and yet I feel rather like
Ibycus, who, when in his old age, against his will, he fell in love, compared
himself to an old racehorse, who was about to run in a chariot race, shaking
with fear at the course he knew so well — this was his simile of himself. And I
also experience a trembling when I remember through what an ocean of words I
have to wade at my time of life. But I must indulge you, as Zeno says that I
ought, and we are alone. Where shall I begin ? And what shall be our first
hypothesis, if I am to attempt this laborious pastime ? Shall I begin with
myself, and take my own hypothesis the one ? and consider the consequences
which follow on the supposition either of the being or of the not being of
one ?
By all means, said
Zeno.
And who will answer
me ? he said. Shall I propose the youngest ? He will not make
difficulties and will be the most likely to say what he thinks ; and his
answers will give me time to breathe.
I am the one whom
you mean, Parmenides, said Aristoteles ; for I am the youngest and at your
service. Ask, and I will answer.
Parmenides
proceeded : If one is, he said, the one cannot be
many ?
Impossible.
Then the one cannot
have parts, and cannot be a whole ?
Why
not ?
Because every part
is part of a whole ; is it not ?
Yes.
And what is a
whole ? would not that of which no part is wanting be a
whole ?
Certainly.
Then, in either
case, the one would be made up of parts ; both as being a whole, and also
as having parts ?
To be
sure.
And in either case,
the one would be many, and not one ?
True.
But, surely, it
ought to be one and not many ?
It
ought.
Then, if the one is
to remain one, it will not be a whole, and will not have
parts ?
No.
But if it has no
parts, it will have neither beginning, middle, nor end ; for these would of
course be parts of it.
Right.
But then, again, a
beginning and an end are the limits of everything ?
Certainly.
Then the one,
having neither beginning nor end, is unlimited ?
Yes,
unlimited.
And therefore
formless ; for it cannot partake either of round or
straight.
But
why ?
Why, because the
round is that of which all the extreme points are equidistant from the
centre ?
Yes.
And the straight is
that of which the centre intercepts the view of the
extremes ?
True.
Then the one would
have parts and would be many, if it partook either of a straight or of a
circular form ?
Assuredly.
But having no
parts, it will be neither straight nor round ?
Right.
And, being of such
a nature, it cannot be in any place, for it cannot be either in another or in
itself.
How
so ?
Because if it were
in another, it would be encircled by that in which it was, and would touch it at
many places and with many parts ; but that which is one and indivisible,
and does not partake of a circular nature, cannot be touched all round in many
places.
Certainly
not.
But if, on the
other hand, one were in itself, it would also be contained by nothing else but
itself ; that is to say, if it were really in itself ; for nothing can
be in anything which does not contain it.
Impossible.
But then, that
which contains must be other than that which is contained ? for the same
whole cannot do and suffer both at once ; and if so, one will be no longer
one, but two ?
True.
Then one cannot be
anywhere, either in itself or in another ?
No.
Further consider,
whether that which is of such a nature can have either rest or
motion.
Why
not ?
Why, because the
one, if it were moved, would be either moved in place or changed in
nature ; for these are the only kinds of motion.
Yes.
And the one, when
it changes and ceases to be itself, cannot be any longer
one.
It
cannot.
It cannot therefore
experience the sort of motion which is change of
nature ?
Clearly
not.
Then can the motion
of the one be in place ?
Perhaps.
But if the one
moved in place, must it not either move round and round in the same place, or
from one place to another ?
It
must.
And that which
moves in a circle must rest upon a centre ; and that which goes round upon
a centre must have parts which are different from the centre ; but that
which has no centre and no parts cannot possibly be carried round upon a
centre ?
Impossible.
But perhaps the
motion of the one consists in change of place ?
Perhaps so, if it
moves at all.
And have we not
already shown that it cannot be in anything ?
Yes.
Then its coming
into being in anything is still more impossible ; is it
not ?
I do not see
why.
Why, because
anything which comes into being in anything, can neither as yet be in that other
thing while still coming into being, nor be altogether out of it, if already
coming into being in it.
Certainly
not.
And therefore
whatever comes into being in another must have parts, and then one part may be
in, and another part out of that other ; but that which has no parts can
never be at one and the same time neither wholly within nor wholly without
anything.
True.
And is there not a
still greater impossibility in that which has no parts, and is not a whole,
coming into being anywhere, since it cannot come into being either as a part or
as a whole ?
Clearly.
Then it does not
change place by revolving in the same spot, not by going somewhere and coming
into being in something ; nor again, by change in
itself ?
Very
true.
Then in respect of
any kind of motion the one is immoveable ?
Immoveable.
But neither can the
one be in anything, as we affirm.
Yes, we said
so.
Then it is never in
the same ?
Why
not ?
Because if it were
in the same it would be in something.
Certainly.
And we said that it
could not be in itself, and could not be in other ?
True.
Then one is never
in the same place ?
It would seem
not.
But that which is
never in the same place is never quiet or at rest ?
Never.
One then, as would
seem, is neither rest nor in motion ?
It certainly
appears so.
Neither will it be
the same with itself or other ; nor again, other than itself or
other.
How is
that ?
If other than
itself it would be other than one, and would not be one.
True.
And if the same
with other, it would be that other, and not itself ; so that upon this
supposition too, it would not have the nature of one, but would be other than
one ?
It
would.
Then it will not be
the same with other, or other than itself ?
It will
not.
Neither will it be
other than other, while it remains one ; for not one, but only other, can
be other than other, and nothing else.
True.
Then not by virtue
of being one will it be other ?
Certainly
not.
But if not by
virtue of being one, not by virtue of itself ; and if not by virtue of
itself, not itself, and itself not being other at all, will not be other than
anything ?
Right.
Neither will one be
the same with itself.
How
not ?
Surely the nature
of the one is not the nature of the same.
Why
not ?
It is not when
anything becomes the same with anything that it becomes
one.
What of
that ?
Anything which
becomes the same with the many, necessarily becomes many and not
one.
True.
But, if there were
no difference between the one and the same, when a thing became the same, it
would always become one ; and when it became one, the
same ?
Certainly.
And, therefore, if
one be the same with itself, it is not one with itself, and will therefore be
one and also not one.
Surely that is
impossible.
And therefore the
one can neither be other than other, nor the same with
itself.
Impossible.
And thus the one
can neither be the same, nor other, either in relation to itself or
other ?
No.
Neither will the
one be like anything or unlike itself or other.
Why
not ?
Because likeness is
sameness of affections.
Yes.
And sameness has
been shown to be of a nature distinct from oneness ?
That has been
shown.
But if the one had
any other affection than that of being one, it would be affected in such a way
as to be more than one ; which is impossible.
True.
Then the one can
never be so affected as to be the same either with another or with
itself ?
Clearly
not.
Then it cannot be
like another, or like itself ?
No.
Nor can it be
affected so as to be other, for then it would be affected in such a way as to be
more than one.
It
would.
That which is
affected otherwise than itself or another, will be unlike itself or another, for
sameness of affections is likeness.
True.
But the one, as
appears, never being affected otherwise, is never unlike itself or
other ?
Never.
Then the one will
never be either like or unlike itself or other ?
Plainly
not.
Again, being of
this nature, it can neither be equal nor unequal either to itself or to
other.
How is
that ?
Why, because the
one if equal must be of the same measures as that to which it is
equal.
True.
And if greater or
less than things which are commensurable with it, the one will have more
measures than that which is less, and fewer than that which is
greater ?
Yes.
And so of things
which are not commensurate with it, the one will have greater measures than that
which is less and smaller than that which is greater.
Certainly.
But how can that
which does not partake of sameness, have either the same measures or have
anything else the same ?
Impossible.
And not having the
same measures, the one cannot be equal either with itself or with
another ?
It appears
so.
But again, whether
it have fewer or more measures, it will have as many parts as it has
measures ; and thus again the one will be no longer one but will have as
many parts as measures.
Right.
And if it were of
one measure, it would be equal to that measure ; yet it has been shown to
be incapable of equality.
It
has.
Then it will
neither partake of one measure, nor of many, nor of few, nor of the same at all,
nor be equal to itself or another ; nor be greater or less than itself, or
other ?
Certainly.
Well, and do we
suppose that one can be older, or younger than anything, or of the same age with
it ?
Why
not ?
Why, because that
which is of the same age with itself or other, must partake of equality or
likeness of time ; and we said that the one did not partake either of
equality or of likeness ?
We did say
so.
And we also said,
that it did not partake of inequality or unlikeness.
Very
true.
How then can one,
being of this nature, be either older or younger than anything, or have the same
age with it ?
In no
way.
Then one cannot be
older or younger, or of the same age, either with itself or with
another ?
Clearly
not.
Then the one, being
of this nature, cannot be in time at all ; for must not that which is in
time, be always growing older than itself ?
Certainly.
And that which is
older, must always be older than something which is
younger ?
True.
Then, that which
becomes older than itself, also becomes at the same time younger than itself, if
it is to have something to become older than.
What do you
mean ?
I mean this :
— A thing does not need to become different from another thing which is already
different ; it is different, and if its different has become, it has become
different ; if its different will be, it will be different ; but of
that which is becoming different, there cannot have been, or be about to be, or
yet be, a different — the only different possible is one which is
becoming.
That is
inevitable.
But, surely, the
elder is a difference relative to the younger, and to nothing
else.
True.
Then that which
becomes older than itself must also, at the same time, become younger than
itself ?
Yes.
But again, it is
true that it cannot become for a longer or for a shorter time than itself, but
it must become, and be, and have become, and be about to be, for the same time
with itself ?
That again is
inevitable.
Then things which
are in time, and partake of time, must in every case, I suppose, be of the same
age with themselves ; and must also become at once older and younger than
themselves ?
Yes.
But the one did not
partake of those affections ?
Not at
all.
Then it does not
partake of time, and is not in any time ?
So the argument
shows.
Well, but do not
the expressions “was,” and “has become,” and “was becoming,” signify a
participation of past time ?
Certainly.
And do not “will
be,” “will become,” “will have become,” signify a participation of future
time ?
Yes.
And “is,” or
“becomes,” signifies a participation of present
time ?
Certainly.
And if the one is
absolutely without participation in time, it never had become, or was becoming,
or was at any time, or is now become or is becoming, or is, or will become, or
will have become, or will be, hereafter.
Most
true.
But are there any
modes of partaking of being other than these ?
There are
none.
Then the one cannot
possibly partake of being ?
That is the
inference.
Then the one is not
at all ?
Clearly
not.
Then the one does
not exist in such way as to be one ; for if it were and partook of being,
it would already be ; but if the argument is to be trusted, the one neither
is nor is one ?
True.
But that which is
not admits of no attribute or relation ?
Of course
not.
Then there is no
name, nor expression, nor perception, nor opinion, nor knowledge of
it ?
Clearly
not.
Then it is neither
named, nor expressed, nor opined, nor known, nor does anything that is perceive
it.
So we must
infer.
But can all this be
true about the one ?
I think
not.
Suppose, now, that
we return once more to the original hypothesis ; let us see whether, on a
further review, any new aspect of the question appears.
I shall be very
happy to do so.
We say that we have
to work out together all the consequences, whatever they may be, which follow,
if the one is ?
Yes.
Then we will begin
at the beginning : — If one is, can one be, and not partake of
being ?
Impossible.
Then the one will
have being, but its being will not be the same with the one ; for if the
same, it would not be the being of the one ; nor would the one have
participated in being, for the proposition that one is would have been identical
with the proposition that one is one ; but our hypothesis is not if one is
one, what will follow, but if one is : — am I not
right ?
Quite
right.
We mean to say,
that being has not the same significance as one ?
Of
course.
And when we put
them together shortly, and say “One is,” that is equivalent to saying, “partakes
of being” ?
Quite
true.
Once more then let
us ask, if one is what will follow. Does not this hypothesis necessarily imply
that one is of such a nature as to have parts ?
How
so ?
In this way :
— If being is predicated of the one, if the one is, and one of being, if being
is one ; and if being and one are not the same ; and since the one,
which we have assumed, is, must not the whole, if it is one, itself be, and have
for its parts, one and being ?
Certainly.
And is each of
these parts — one and being to be simply called a part, or must the word “part”
be relative to the word “whole” ?
The
latter.
Then that which is
one is both a whole and has a part ?
Certainly.
Again, of the parts
of the one, if it is — I mean being and one — does either fail to imply the
other ? is the one wanting to being, or being to the
one ?
Impossible.
Thus, each of the
parts also has in turn both one and being, and is at the least made up of two
parts ; and the same principle goes on for ever, and every part whatever
has always these two parts ; for being always involves one, and one
being ; so that one is always disappearing, and becoming
two.
Certainly.
And so the one, if
it is, must be infinite in multiplicity ?
Clearly.
Let us take another
direction.
What
direction ?
We say that the one
partakes of being and therefore it is ?
Yes.
And in this way,
the one, if it has being, has turned out to be many ?
True.
But now, let us
abstract the one which, as we say, partakes of being, and try to imagine it
apart from that of which, as we say, it partakes — will this abstract one be one
only or many ?
One, I
think.
Let us see : —
Must not the being of one be other than one ? for the one is not being,
but, considered as one, only partook of being ?
Certainly.
If being and the
one be two different things, it is not because the one is one that it is other
than being ; nor because being is being that it is other than the
one ; but they differ from one another in virtue of otherness and
difference.
Certainly.
So that the other
is not the same either with the one or with being ?
Certainly
not.
And therefore
whether we take being and the other, or being and the one, or the one and the
other, in every such case we take two things, which may be rightly called
both.
How
so.
In this way — you
may speak of being ?
Yes.
And also of
one ?
Yes.
Then now we have
spoken of either of them ?
Yes.
Well, and when I
speak of being and one, I speak of them both ?
Certainly.
And if I speak of
being and the other, or of the one and the other — in any such case do I not
speak of both ?
Yes.
And must not that
which is correctly called both, be also two ?
Undoubtedly.
And of two things
how can either by any possibility not be one ?
It
cannot.
Then, if the
individuals of the pair are together two, they must be severally
one ?
Clearly.
And if each of them
is one, then by the addition of any one to any pair, the whole becomes
three ?
Yes.
And three are odd,
and two are even ?
Of
course.
And if there are
two there must also be twice, and if there are three there must be thrice ;
that is, if twice one makes two, and thrice one
three ?
Certainly.
There are two, and
twice, and therefore there must be twice two ; and there are three, and
there is thrice, and therefore there must be thrice
three ?
Of
course.
If there are three
and twice, there is twice three ; and if there are two and thrice, there is
thrice two ?
Undoubtedly.
Here, then, we have
even taken even times, and odd taken odd times, and even taken odd times, and
odd taken even times.
True.
And if this is so,
does any number remain which has no necessity to be ?
None
whatever.
Then if one is,
number must also be ?
It
must.
But if there is
number, there must also be many, and infinite multiplicity of being ; for
number is infinite in multiplicity, and partakes also of being : am I not
right ?
Certainly.
And if all number
participates in being, every part of number will also
participate ?
Yes.
Then being is
distributed over the whole multitude of things, and nothing that is, however
small or however great, is devoid of it ? And, indeed, the very supposition
of this is absurd, for how can that which is, be devoid of
being ?
In no
way.
And it is divided
into the greatest and into the smallest, and into being of all sizes, and is
broken up more than all things ; the divisions of it have no
limit.
True.
Then it has the
greatest number of parts ?
Yes, the greatest
number.
Is there any of
these which is a part of being, and yet no part ?
Impossible.
But if it is at all
and so long as it is, it must be one, and cannot be
none ?
Certainly.
Then the one
attaches to every single part of being, and does not fail in any part, whether
great or small, or whatever may be the size of it ?
True.
But reflect :
— an one in its entirety, be in many places at the same
time ?
No ; I see the
impossibility of that.
And if not in its
entirety, then it is divided ; for it cannot be present with all the parts
of being, unless divided.
True.
And that which has
parts will be as many as the parts are ?
Certainly.
Then we were wrong
in saying just now, that being was distributed into the greatest number of
parts. For it is not distributed into parts more than the one, into parts equal
to the one ; the one is never wanting to being, or being to the one, but
being two they are co-equal and coextensive.
Certainly that is
true.
The one itself,
then, having been broken up into parts by being, is many and
infinite ?
True.
Then not only the
one which has being is many, but the one itself distributed by being, must also
be many ?
Certainly.
Further, inasmuch
as the parts are parts of a whole, the one, as a whole, will be limited ;
for are not the parts contained the whole ?
Certainly.
And that which
contains, is a limit ?
Of
course.
Then the one if it
has being is one and many, whole and parts, having limits and yet unlimited in
number ?
Clearly.
And because having
limits, also having extremes ?
Certainly.
And if a whole,
having beginning and middle and end. For can anything be a whole without these
three ? And if any one of them is wanting to anything, will that any longer
be a whole ?
No.
Then the one, as
appears, will have beginning, middle, and end.
It
will.
But, again, the
middle will be equidistant from the extremes ; or it would not be in the
middle ?
Yes.
Then the one will
partake of figure, either rectilinear or round, or a union of the
two ?
True.
And if this is the
case, it will be both in itself and in another too.
How ?
Every part is in
the whole, and none is outside the whole.
True.
And all the parts
are contained by the whole ?
Yes.
And the one is all
its parts, and neither more nor less than all ?
No.
And the one is the
whole ?
Of
course.
But if all the
parts are in the whole, and the one is all of them and the whole, and they are
all contained by the whole, the one will be contained by the one ; and thus
the one will be in itself.
That is
true.
But then, again,
the whole is not in the parts — neither in all the parts, nor in some one of
them. For if it is in all, it must be in one ; for if there were any one in
which it was not, it could not be in all the parts ; for the part in which
it is wanting is one of all, and if the whole is not in this, how can it be in
them all ?
It
cannot.
Nor can the whole
be in some of the parts ; for if the whole were in some of the parts, the
greater would be in the less, which is impossible.
Yes,
impossible.
But if the whole is
neither in one, nor in more than one, nor in all of the parts, it must be in
something else, or cease to be anywhere at all ?
Certainly.
If it were nowhere,
it would be nothing ; but being a whole, and not being in itself, it must
be in another.
Very
true.
The one then,
regarded as a whole, is in another, but regarded as being all its parts, is in
itself ; and therefore the one must be itself in itself and also in
another.
Certainly.
The one then, being
of this nature, is of necessity both at rest and in
motion ?
How ?
The one is at rest
since it is in itself, for being in one, and not passing out of this, it is in
the same, which is itself.
True.
And that which is
ever in the same, must be ever at rest ?
Certainly.
Well, and must not
that, on the contrary, which is ever in other, never be in the same ; and
if never in the same, never at rest, and if not at rest, in
motion ?
True.
Then the one being
always itself in itself and other, must always be both at rest and in
motion ?
Clearly.
And must be the
same with itself, and other than itself ; and also the same with the
others, and other than the others ; this follows from its previous
affections.
How
so ?
Every thing in
relation to every other thing, is either the same or other ; or if neither
the same nor other, then in the relation of a part to a whole, or of a whole to
a part.
Clearly.
And is the one a
part of itself ?
Certainly
not.
Since it is not a
part in relation to itself it cannot be related to itself as whole to
part ?
It
cannot.
But is the one
other than one ?
No.
And therefore not
other than itself ?
Certainly
not.
If then it be
neither other, nor a whole, nor a part in relation to itself, must it not be the
same with itself ?
Certainly.
But then, again, a
thing which is in another place from “itself,” if this “itself” remains in the
same place with itself, must be other than “itself,” for it will be in another
place ?
True.
Then the one has
been shown to be at once in itself and in another ?
Yes.
Thus, then, as
appears, the one will be other than itself ?
True.
Well, then, if
anything be other than anything, will it not be other than that which is
other ?
Certainly.
And will not all
things that are not one, be other than the one, and the one other than the
not-one ?
Of
course.
Then the one will
be other than the others ?
True.
But,
consider : — Are not the absolute same, and the absolute other, opposites
to one another ?
Of
course.
Then will the same
ever be in the other, or the other in the same ?
They will
not.
If then the other
is never in the same, there is nothing in which the other is during any space of
time ; for during that space of time, however small, the other would be in
the game. Is not that true ?
Yes. And since the
other is never in the same, it can never be in anything that
is.
True.
Then the other will
never be either in the not one, or in the one ?
Certainly
not.
Then not by reason
of otherness is the one other than the not-one, or the not-one other than the
one.
No.
Nor by reason of
themselves will they be other than one another, if not partaking of the
other.
How can they
be ?
But if they are not
other, either by reason of themselves or of the other, will they not altogether
escape being other than one another ?
They
will.
Again, the not-one
cannot partake of the one ; otherwise it would not have been not-one, but
would have been in some way one.
True.
Nor can the not-one
be number ; for having number, it would not have been not-one at
all.
It would
not.
Again, is the
not-one part of the one ; or rather, would it not in that case partake of
the one ?
It
would.
If then, in every
point of view, the one and the not-one are distinct, then neither is the one
part or whole of the not-one, nor is the not-one part or whole of the
one ?
No.
But we said that
things which are neither parts nor wholes of one another, nor other than one
another, will be the same with one another : — so we
said ?
Yes.
Then shall we say
that the one, being in this relation to the not-one, is the same with
it ?
Let us say
so.
Then it is the same
with itself and the others, and also other than itself and the
others.
That appears to be
the inference. And it will also be like and unlike itself and the
others ?
Perhaps.
Since the one was
shown to be other than the others, the others will also be other than the
one.
Yes.
And the one is
other than the others in the same degree that the others are other than it, and
neither more nor less ?
True.
And if neither more
nor less, then in a like degree ?
Yes.
In virtue of the
affection by which the one is other than others and others in like manner other
than it, the one will be affected like the others and the others like the
one.
How do you
mean ?
I may take as an
illustration the case of names : You give a name to a
thing ?
Yes.
And you may say the
name once or oftener ?
Yes.
And when you say it
once, you mention that of which it is the name ? and when more than once,
is it something else which you mention ? or must it always be the same
thing of which you speak, whether you utter the name once or more than
once ?
Of course it is the
same.
And is not “other”
a name given to a thing ?
Certainly.
Whenever, then, you
use the word “other,” whether once or oftener, you name that of which it is the
name, and to no other do you give the name ?
True.
Then when we say
that the others are other than the one, and the one other than the others, in
repeating the word “other” we speak of that nature to which the name is applied,
and of no other ?
Quite
true.
Then the one which
is other than others, and the other which is other than the one, in that the
word “other” is applied to both, will be in the same condition ; and that
which is in the same condition is like ?
Yes.
Then in virtue of
the affection by which the one is other than the others, every thing will be
like every thing, for every thing is other than every
thing.
True.
Again, the like is
opposed to the unlike ?
Yes.
And the other to
the same ?
True
again.
And the one was
also shown to be the same with the others ?
Yes.
And to be, the same
with the others is the opposite of being other than the
others ?
Certainly.
And in that it was
other it was shown to be like ?
Yes.
But in that it was
the same it will be unlike by virtue of the opposite affection to that which
made it and this was the affection of otherness.
Yes.
The same then will
make it unlike ; otherwise it will not be the opposite of the
other.
True.
Then the one will
be both like and unlike the others ; like in so far as it is other, and
unlike in so far as it is the same.
Yes, that argument
may be used.
And there is
another argument.
What ?
In so far as it is
affected in the same way it is not affected otherwise, and not being affected
otherwise is not unlike, and not being unlike, is like ; but in so far as
it is affected by other it is otherwise, and being otherwise affected is
unlike.
True.
Then because the
one is the same with the others and other than the others, on either of these
two grounds, or on both of them, it will be both like and unlike the
others ?
Certainly.
And in the same way
as being other than itself, and the same with itself on either of these two
grounds and on both of them, it will be like and unlike
itself.
Of
course.
Again, how far can
the one touch or not touch itself and others ? —
Consider.
I am
considering.
The one was shown
to be in itself which was a whole ?
True.
And also in other
things ?
Yes.
In so far as it is
in other things it would touch other things, but in so far as it is in itself it
would be debarred from touching them, and would touch itself
only.
Clearly.
Then the inference
is that it would touch both ?
It
would.
But what do you say
to a new point of view ? Must not that which is to touch another be next to
that which it is to touch, and occupy the place nearest to that in which what it
touches is situated ?
True.
Then the one, if it
is to touch itself, ought to be situated next to itself, and occupy the place
next to that in which itself is ?
It
ought.
And that would
require that the one should be two, and be in two places at once, and this,
while it is one, will never happen.
No.
Then the one cannot
touch itself any more than it can be two ?
It
cannot.
Neither can it
touch others.
Why
not ?
The reason is, that
whatever is to touch another must be in separation from, and next to, that which
it is to touch, and no third thing can be between them.
True.
Two things, then,
at the least ate necessary to make contact possible ?
They
are.
And if to the two a
third be added in due order, the number of terms will be three, and the contacts
two ?
Yes.
And every
additional term makes one additional contact, whence it follows that the
contacts are one less in number than the terms ; the first two terms
exceeded the number of contacts by one, and the whole number of terms exceeds
the whole number of contacts by one in like manner ; and for every one
which is afterwards added to the number of terms, one contact is added to the
contacts.
True.
Whatever is the
whole number of things, the contacts will be always one
less.
True.
But if there be
only one, and not two, there will be no contact ?
How can there
be ?
And do we not say
that the others being other than the one are not one and have no part in the
one ?
True.
Then they have no
number, if they have no one in them ?
Of course
not.
Then the others are
neither one nor two, nor are they called by the name of any
number ?
No.
One, then, alone is
one, and two do not exist ?
Clearly
not.
And if there are
not two, there is no contact ?
There is
not.
Then neither does
the one touch the others, nor the others the one, if there is no
contact ?
Certainly
not.
For all which
reasons the one touches and does not touch itself and the
others ?
True.
Further is the one
equal and unequal to itself and others ?
How do you
mean ?
If the one were
greater or less than the others, or the others greater or less than the one,
they would not be greater or less than each other in virtue of their being the
one and the others ; but, if in addition to their being what they are they
had equality, they would be equal to one another, or if the one had smallness
and the others greatness, or the one had greatness and the others smallness —
whichever kind had greatness would be greater, and whichever had smallness would
be smaller ?
Certainly.
Then there are two
such ideas as greatness and smallness ; for if they were not they could not
be opposed to each other and be present in that which is.
How could
they ?
If, then, smallness
is present in the one it will be present either in the whole or in a part of the
whole ?
Certainly.
Suppose the
first ; it will be either co-equal and co-extensive with the whole one, or
will contain the one ?
Clearly.
If it be
co-extensive with the one it will be coequal with the one, or if containing the
one it will be greater than the one ?
Of
course.
But can smallness
be equal to anything or greater than anything, and have the functions of
greatness and equality and not its own functions ?
Impossible.
Then smallness
cannot be in the whole of one, but, if at all, in a part
only ?
Yes.
And surely not in
all of a part, for then the difficulty of the whole will recur ; it will be
equal to or greater than any part in which it is.
Certainly.
Then smallness will
not be in anything, whether in a whole or in a part ; nor will there be
anything small but actual smallness.
True.
Neither will
greatness be in the one, for if greatness be in anything there will be something
greater other and besides greatness itself, namely, that in which greatness
is ; and this too when the small itself is not there, which the one, if it
is great, must exceed ; this, however, is impossible, seeing that smallness
is wholly absent.
True.
But absolute
greatness is only greater than absolute smallness, and smallness is only smaller
than absolute greatness.
Very
true.
Then other things
not greater or less than the one, if they have neither greatness nor
smallness ; nor have greatness or smallness any power of exceeding or being
exceeded in relation to the one, but only in relation to one another ; nor
will the one be greater or less than them or others, if it has neither greatness
nor smallness.
Clearly
not.
Then if the one is
neither greater nor less than the others, it cannot either exceed or be exceeded
by them ?
Certainly
not.
And that which
neither exceeds nor is exceeded, must be on an equality ; and being on an
equality, must be equal.
Of
course.
And this will be
true also of the relation of the one to itself ; having neither greatness
nor smallness in itself, it will neither exceed nor be exceeded by itself, but
will be on an equality with and equal to itself.
Certainly.
Then the one will
be equal to both itself and the others ?
Clearly
so.
And yet the one,
being itself in itself, will also surround and be without itself ; and, as
containing itself, will be greater than itself ; and, as contained in
itself, will be less ; and will thus be greater and less than
itself.
It
will.
Now there cannot
possibly be anything which is not included in the one and the
others ?
Of course
not.
But, surely, that
which is must always be somewhere ?
Yes.
But that which is
in anything will be less, and that in which it is will be greater ; in no
other way can one thing be in another.
True.
And since there is
nothing other or besides the one and the others, and they must be in something,
must they not be in one another, the one in the others and the others in the
one, if they are to be anywhere ?
That is
clear.
But inasmuch as the
one is in the others, the others will be greater than the one, because they
contain the one, which will be less than the others, because it is contained in
them ; and inasmuch as the others are in the one, the one on the same
principle will be greater than the others, and the others less than the
one.
True.
The one, then, will
be equal to and greater and less than itself and the
others ?
Clearly.
And if it be
greater and less and equal, it will be of equal and more and less measures or
divisions than itself and the others, and if of measures, also of
parts ?
Of
course.
And if of equal and
more and less measures or divisions, it will be in number more or less than
itself and the others, and likewise equal in number to itself and to the
others ?
How is
that ?
It will be of more
measures than those things which it exceeds, and of as many parts as
measures ; and so with that to which it is equal, and that than which it is
less.
True.
And being greater
and less than itself, and equal to itself, it will be of equal measures with
itself and of more and fewer measures than itself ; and if of measures then
also of parts ?
It
will.
And being of equal
parts with itself, it will be numerically equal to itself ; and being of
more parts, more, and being of less, less than
itself ?
Certainly.
And the same will
hold of its relation to other things ; inasmuch as it is greater than them,
it will be more in number than them ; and inasmuch as it is smaller, it
will be less in number ; and inasmuch as it is equal in size to other
things, it will be equal to them in number.
Certainly.
Once more then, as
would appear, the one will be in number both equal to and more and less than
both itself and all other things.
It
will.
Does the one also
partake of time ? And is it and does it become older and younger than
itself and others, and again, neither younger nor older than itself and others,
by virtue of participation in time ?
How do you
mean ?
If one is, being
must be predicated of it ?
Yes.
But to be (einai)
is only participation of being in present time, and to have been is the
participation of being at a past time, and to be about to be is the
participation of being at a future time ?
Very
true.
Then the one, since
it partakes of being, partakes of time ?
Certainly.
And is not time
always moving forward ?
Yes.
Then the one is
always becoming older than itself, since it moves forward in
time ?
Certainly.
And do you remember
that the older becomes older than that which becomes
younger ?
I
remember.
Then since the one
becomes older than itself, it becomes younger at the same
time ?
Certainly.
Thus, then, the one
becomes older as well as younger than itself ?
Yes.
And it is older (is
it not ?) when in becoming, it gets to the point of time. between “was” and
“will be,” which is “now” : for surely in going from the past to the
future, it cannot skip the present ?
No.
And when it arrives
at the present it stops from becoming older, and no longer becomes, but is
older, for if it went on it would never be reached by the present, for it is the
nature of that which goes on, to touch both the present and the future, letting
go the present and seizing the future, while in process of becoming between
them.
True.
But that which is
becoming cannot skip the present ; when it reaches the present it ceases to
become, and is then whatever it may happen to be becoming.
Clearly.
And so the one,
when in becoming older it reaches the present, ceases to become, and is then
older.
Certainly.
And it is older
than that than which it was becoming older, and it was becoming older than
itself.
Yes.
And that which is
older is older than that which is younger ?
True.
Then the one is
younger than itself, when in becoming older it reaches the
present ?
Certainly.
But the present is
always present with the one during all its being ; for whenever it is it is
always now.
Certainly.
Then the one always
both is and becomes older and younger than itself ?
Truly.
And is it or does
it become a longer time than itself or an equal time with
itself ?
An equal
time.
But if it becomes
or is for an equal time with itself, it is of the same age with
itself ?
Of
course.
And that which is
of the same age, is neither older nor younger ?
No.
The one, then,
becoming and being the same time with itself, neither is nor becomes older or
younger than itself ?
I should say
not.
And what are its
relations to other things ? Is it or does it become older or younger than
they ?
I cannot tell
you.
You can at least
tell me that others than the one are more than the one-other would have been
one, but the others have multitude, and are more than
one ?
They will have
multitude.
And a multitude
implies a number larger than one ?
Of
course.
And shall we say
that the lesser or the greater is the first to come or to have come into
existence ?
The
lesser.
Then the least is
the first ? And that is the one ?
Yes.
Then the one of all
things that have number is the first to come into being ; but all other
things have also number, being plural and not singular.
They
have.
And since it came
into being first it must be supposed to have come into being prior to the
others, and the others later ; and the things which came into being later,
are younger than that which preceded them ? And so the other things will be
younger than the one, and the one older than other
things ?
True.
What would you say
of another question ? Can the one have come into being contrary to its own
nature, or is that impossible ?
Impossible.
And yet, surely,
the one was shown to have parts ; and if parts, then a beginning, middle
and end ?
Yes.
And a beginning,
both of the one itself and of all other things, comes into being first of
all ; and after the beginning, the others follow, until you reach the
end ?
Certainly.
And all these
others we shall affirm to be parts of the whole and of the one, which, as soon
as the end is reached, has become whole and one ?
Yes ; that is
what we shall say.
But the end comes
last, and the one is of such a nature as to come into being with the last ;
and, since the one cannot come into being except in accordance with its own
nature, its nature will require that it should come into being after the others,
simultaneously with the end.
Clearly.
Then the one is
younger than the others and the others older than the one.
That also is clear
in my judgment.
Well, and must not
a beginning or any other part of the one or of anything, if it be a part and not
parts, being a part, be also of necessity one ?
Certainly.
And will not the
one come into being together with each part — together with the first part when
that comes into being, and together with the second part and with all the rest,
and will not be wanting to any part, which is added to any other part until it
has reached the last and become one whole ; it will be wanting neither to
the middle, nor to the first, nor to the last, nor to any of them, while the
process of becoming is going on ?
True.
Then the one is of
the same age with all the others, so that if the one itself does not contradict
its own nature, it will be neither prior nor posterior to the others, but
simultaneous ; and according to this argument the one will be neither older
nor younger than the others, nor the others than the one, but according to the
previous argument the one will be older and younger than the others and the
others than the one.
Certainly.
After this manner
then the one is and has become. But as to its becoming older and younger than
the others, and the others than the one, and neither older. nor younger, what
shall we say ? Shall we say as of being so also of becoming, or
otherwise ?
I cannot
answer.
But I can venture
to say, that even if one thing were older or younger than another, it could not
become older or younger in a greater degree than it was at first ; for
equals added to unequals, whether to periods of time or to anything else, leave
the difference between them the same as at first.
Of course. Then
that which is, cannot become older or younger than that which is, since the
difference of age is always the same ; the one is and has become older and
the other younger ; but they are no longer becoming
so.
True.
And the one which
is does not therefore become either older or younger than the others which
are
No.
But consider
whether they may not become older and younger in another
way.
In what
way ?
Just as the one was
proven to be older than the others and the others than the
one.
And what of
that ?
If the one is older
than the others, has come into being a longer time than the
others.
Yes.
But consider
again ; if we add equal time to a greater and a less time, will the greater
differ from the less time by an equal or by a smaller portion than
before ?
By a smaller
portion.
Then the difference
between the age of the one and the age of the others will not be afterwards so
great as at first, but if an equal time be added to both of them they will
differ less and less in age ?
Yes.
And that which
differs in age from some other less than formerly, from being older will become
younger in relation to that other than which it was
older ?
Yes,
younger.
And if the one
becomes younger the others aforesaid will become older than they were before, in
relation to the one.
Certainly.
Then that which had
become younger becomes older relatively to that which previously had become and
was older ; it never really is older, but is always becoming, for the one
is always growing on the side of youth and the other on the side of age. And in
like manner the older is always in process of becoming younger than the
younger ; for as they are always going in opposite directions they become
in ways the opposite to one another, the younger older than the older and the
older younger than the younger. They cannot, however have become ; for if
they had already become they would be and not merely become. But that is
impossible ; for they are always becoming both older and younger than one
another : the one becomes younger than the others because it was seen to be
older and prior, and the others become older than the one because they came into
being later ; and in the same way the others are in the same relation to
the one, because they were seen to be older, and prior to the
one.
That is
clear.
Inasmuch then, one
thing does not become older or younger than another, in that they always differ
from each other by an equal number, the one cannot become older or younger than
the others, nor the other than the one ; but inasmuch as that which came
into being earlier and that which came into being later must continually differ
from each other by a different portion — in this point of view the others must
become older and younger than the one, and the one than the
others.
Certainly.
For all these
reasons, then, the one is and becomes older and younger than itself and the
others, and neither is nor becomes older or younger than itself or the
others.
Certainly.
But since the one
partakes of time, and partakes of becoming older and younger, must it not also
partake of the past, the present, and the future ?
Of course it
must.
Then the one was
and is and will be, and was becoming and is becoming and will
become ?
Certainly.
And there is and
was and will be something which is in relation to it and belongs to
it ?
True.
And since we have
at this moment opinion and knowledge and perception of the one, there is opinion
and knowledge and perception of it ?
Quite
right.
Then there is name
and expression for it, and it is named and expressed, and everything of this
kind which appertains to other : things appertains to the
one.
Certainly, that is
true.
Yet once more and
for the third time, let us consider : If the one is both one and many, as
we have described, and is, neither one nor many, and participates in time, must
it not, in as far as it is one, at times partake of being, and in as far as it
is not one, at times not partake of being ?
Certainly.
But can it partake
of being when not partaking of being, or not partake of being when partaking of
being ?
Impossible.
Then the one
partakes and does not partake of being at different times, for that is the only
way in which it can partake and not partake of the same.
True.
And is there not
also a time at which it assumes being and relinquishes being — for how can it
have and not have the same thing unless it receives and also gives it up
at ; some time ?
Impossible.
And the assuming of
being is what you would call becoming ?
I
should.
And the
relinquishing of being you would call destruction ?
I
should.
The one then, as
would appear, becomes and is destroyed by taking and giving up
being.
Certainly.
And being one and
many and in process of becoming and being destroyed, when it becomes one it
ceases to be many, and when many, it ceases to be
one ?
Certainly.
And as it becomes
one and many, must it not inevitably experience separation and
aggregation ?
Inevitably.
And whenever it
becomes like and unlike it must be assimilated and
dissimilated ?
Yes.
And when it becomes
greater or less or equal it must grow or diminish or be
equalized ?
True.
And when being in
motion it rests, and when being at rest it changes to motion, it can surely be
in no time at all ?
How can
it ?
But that a thing
which is previously at rest should be afterwards in motion, or previously in
motion and afterwards at rest, without experiencing change, is
impossible.
Impossible.
And surely there
cannot be a time in which a thing can be at once neither in motion nor at
rest ?
There
cannot.
But neither can it
change without changing.
True.
When then does it
change ; for it cannot change either when at rest, or when in motion, or
when in time ?
It
cannot.
And does this
strange thing in which it is at the time of changing really
exist ?
What
thing ?
The moment. For the
moment seems to imply a something out of which change takes place into either of
two states ; for the change is not from the state of rest as such, nor,
from the state of motion as such ; but there is this curious nature, which
we call the moment lying between rest and motion, not being in any time ;
and into this and out of this what is in motion changes into rest, and what is
at rest into motion.
So it
appears.
And the one then,
since it is at rest and also in motion, will change to either, for only in this
way can it be in both. And in changing it changes in a moment, and when it is
changing it will be in no time, and will not then be either in motion or at
rest.
It will
not.
And it will be in
the same case in relation to the other changes, when it passes from being into
cessation of being, or from not-being into becoming — then it passes between
certain states of motion and rest, and, neither is nor is not, nor becomes nor
is destroyed.
Very
true.
And on the same
principle, in the passage from one to many and from many to one, the one is
neither one nor many, neither separated nor aggregated ; and in the passage
from like to unlike, and from unlike to like, it is neither like nor unlike,
neither in a state of assimilation nor of dissimilation ; and in the
passage from small to great and equal and back again, it will be neither small
nor great, nor equal, nor in a state of increase, or diminution, or
equalization.
True.
All these, then,
are the affections of the one, if the one has being.
Of
course.
But if one is, what
will happen to the others — is not that also to be
considered ?
Yes.
Let us show then,
if one is, what will be the affections of the others than the
one.
Let us do
so.
Inasmuch as there
are things other than the one, the others are not the one ; for if they
were they could not be other than the one. Very true.
Very
true.
Nor are the others
altogether without the one, but in a certain way they participate in the
one.
In what
way ?
Because the others
are other than the one inasmuch as they have parts ; for if they had no
parts they would be simply one.
Right.
And parts, as we
affirm, have relation to a whole ?
So we
say.
And a whole must
necessarily be one made up of many ; and the parts will be parts of the
one, for each of the parts is not a part of many, but of a
whole.
How do you
mean ?
If anything were a
part of many, being itself one of them, it will surely be a part of itself,
which is impossible, and it will be a part of each one of the other parts, if of
all ; for if not a part of some one, it will be a part of all the others
but this one, and thus will not be a part of each one ; and if not a part
of each, one it will not be a part of anyone of the many ; and not being a
part of any one, it cannot be a part or anything else of all those things of
none of which it is anything.
Clearly
not.
Then the part is
not a part of the many, nor of all, but is of a certain single form, which we
call a whole, being one perfect unity framed out of all of this the part will be
a part.
Certainly.
If, then, the
others have parts, they will participate in the whole and in the
one.
True.
Then the others
than the one must be one perfect whole, having parts.
Certainly.
And the same
argument holds of each part, for the part must participate in the one ; for
if each of the parts is a part, this means, I suppose, that it is one separate
from the rest and self-related ; otherwise it is not
each.
True.
But when we speak
of the part participating in the one, it must clearly be other than one ;
for if not, it would merely have participated, but would have been one ;
whereas only the itself can be one.
Very
true.
Both the whole and
the part must participate in the one ; for the whole will be one whole, of
which the parts will be parts ; and each part will be one part of the whole
which is the whole of the part.
True.
And will not the
things which participate in the one, be other than
it ?
Of
course.
And the things
which are other than the one will be many ; for if the things which are
other than the one were neither one nor more than one, they would be
nothing.
True.
But, seeing that
the things which participate in the one as a part, and in the one as a whole,
are more than one, must not those very things which participate in the one be
infinite in number ?
How
so ?
Let us look at the
matter thus : — Is it not a fact that in partaking of the one they are not
one, and do not partake of the one at the very time. when they are partaking of
it ?
Clearly.
They do so then as
multitudes in which the one is not present ?
Very
true.
And if we were to
abstract from them in idea the very smallest fraction, must not that least
fraction, if it does not partake of the one, be a multitude and not
one ?
It
must.
And if we continue
to look at the other side of their nature, regarded simply, and in itself, will
not they, as far as we see them, be unlimited in
number ?
Certainly.
And yet, when each
several part becomes a part, then the parts have a limit in relation to the
whole and to each other, and the whole in relation to the
parts.
Just
so.
The result to the
others than the one is that of themselves and the one appears to create a new
element in them which gives to them limitation in relation to one another ;
whereas in their own nature they have no limit.
That is
clear.
Then the others
than the one, both as whole and parts, are infinite, and also partake of
limit.
Certainly.
Then they are both
like and unlike one another and themselves.
How is
that ?
Inasmuch as they
are unlimited in their own nature, they are all affected in the same
way.
True.
And inasmuch as
they all partake of limit, they are all affected in the same
way.
Of
course.
But inasmuch as
their state is both limited and unlimited, they are affected in opposite
ways.
Yes.
And opposites are
the most unlike of things.
Certainly.
Considered, then,
in regard to either one of their affections, they will be like themselves and
one another ; considered in reference to both of them together, most
opposed and most unlike.
That appears to be
true.
Then the others are
both like and unlike themselves and one another ?
True.
And they are the
same and also different from one another, and in motion and at rest, and
experience every sort of opposite affection, as may be proved without difficulty
of them, since they have been shown to have experienced the affections
aforesaid ?
True.
Suppose, now, that
we leave the further discussion of these matters as evident, and consider again
upon the hypothesis that the one is, whether opposite of all this is or is not
equally true of the others.
By all
means.
Then let us begin
again, and ask, If one is, what must be the affections of the
others ?
Let us ask that
question.
Must not the one be
distinct from the others, and the others from the
one ?
Why
so ?
Why, because there
is nothing else beside them which is distinct from both of them ; for the
expression “one and the others” includes all things.
Yes, all
things.
Then we cannot
suppose that there is anything different from them in which both the one and the
others might exist ?
There is
nothing.
Then the one and
the others are never in the same ?
True.
Then they are
separated from each other ?
Yes.
And we surely
cannot say that what is truly one has parts ?
Impossible.
Then the one will
not be in the others as a whole, nor as part, if it be separated from the
others, and has no parts ?
Impossible.
Then there is no
way in which the others can partake of the one, if they do not partake either in
whole or in part ?
It would seem
not.
Then there is no
way in which the others are one, or have in themselves any
unity ?
There is
not.
Nor are the others
many ; for if they were many, each part of them would be a part of the
whole ; but now the others, not partaking in any way of the one, are
neither one nor many, nor whole, nor part.
True.
Then the others
neither are nor contain two or three, if entirely deprived of the
one ?
True.
Then the others are
neither like nor unlike the one, nor is likeness and unlikeness in them ;
for if they were like and unlike, or had in them likeness and unlikeness, they
would have two natures in them opposite to one another.
That is
clear.
But for that which
partakes of nothing to partake of two things was held by us to be
impossible ?
Impossible.
Then the others are
neither like nor unlike nor both, for if they were like or unlike they would
partake of one of those two natures, which would be one thing, and if they were
both they would partake of opposites which would be two things, and this has
been shown to be impossible.
True.
Therefore they are
neither the same, nor other, nor in motion, nor at rest, nor in a state of
becoming, nor of being destroyed, nor greater, nor less, nor equal, nor have
they experienced anything else of the sort ; for, if they are capable of
experiencing any such affection, they will participate in one and two and three,
and odd and even, and in these, as has been proved, they do not participate,
seeing that they are altogether and in every way devoid of the
one.
Very
true.
Therefore if one
is, the one is all things, and also nothing, both in relation to itself and to
other things.
Certainly.
Well, and ought we
not to consider next what will be the consequence if the one is
not ?
Yes ; we
ought.
What is the meaning
of the hypothesis — If the one is not ; is there any difference between
this and the hypothesis — If the not one is not ?
There is a
difference, certainly.
Is there a
difference only, or rather are not the two expressions — if the one is not, and
if the not one is not, entirely opposed ?
They are entirely
opposed.
And suppose a
person to say : — If greatness is not, if smallness is not, or anything of
that sort, does he not mean, whenever he uses such an expression, that “what is
not” is other than other things ?
To be
sure.
And so when he says
“If one is not” he clearly means, that what “is not” is other than all
others ; we know what he means — do we not ?
Yes, we
do.
When he says “one,”
he says something which is known ; and secondly something which is other
than all other things ; it makes no difference whether he predicate of one
being or not being, for that which is said “not to be” is known to be something
all the same, and is distinguished from other things.
Certainly.
Then I will begin
again, and ask : If one is not, what are the consequences ? In the
first place, as would appear, there is a knowledge of it, or the very meaning of
the words, “if one is not,” would not be known.
True.
Secondly, the
others differ from it, or it could not be described as different from the
others ?
Certainly.
Difference, then,
belongs to it as well as knowledge ; for in speaking of the one as
different from the others, we do not speak of a difference in the others, but in
the one.
Clearly
so.
Moreover, the one
that is not is something and partakes of relation to “that,” and “this,” and
“these,” and the like, and is an attribute of “this” ; for the one, or the
others than the one, could not have been spoken of, nor could any attribute or
relative of the one that is not have been or been spoken of, nor could it have
been said to be anything, if it did not partake of “some,” or of the other
relations just now mentioned.
True.
Being, then, cannot
be ascribed to the one, since it is not ; but the one that is not may or
rather must participate in many things, if it and nothing else is not ; if,
however, neither the one nor the one that is not is supposed not to be, and we
are speaking of something of a different nature, we can predicate nothing of it.
But supposing that the one that is not and nothing else is not, then it must
participate in the predicate “that,” and in many others.
Certainly.
And it will have
unlikeness in relation to the others, for the others being different from the
one will be of a different kind.
Certainly.
And are not things
of a different kind also other in kind ?
Of
course.
And are not things
other in kind unlike ?
They are
unlike.
And if they are
unlike the one, that which they are unlike will clearly be unlike
them ?
Clearly
so.
Then the one will
have unlikeness in respect of which the others are unlike
it ?
That would seem to
be true.
And if unlikeness
to other things is attributed to it, it must have likeness to
itself.
How
so ?
If the one have
unlikeness to one, something else must be meant ; nor will the hypothesis
relate to one ; but it will relate to something other than
one ?
Quite
so.
But that cannot
be.
No.
Then the one must
have likeness to itself ?
It
must.
Again, it is not
equal to the others ; for if it were equal, then it would at once be and be
like them in virtue of the equality ; but if one has no being, then it can
neither be nor be like ?
It
cannot.
But since it is not
equal to the others, neither can the others be equal to
it ?
Certainly
not.
And things that are
not equal are unequal ?
True.
And they are
unequal to an unequal ?
Of
course.
Then the one
partakes of inequality, and in respect of this the others are unequal to
it ?
Very
true.
And inequality
implies greatness and smallness ?
Yes.
Then the one, if of
such a nature, has greatness and smallness ?
That appears to be
true.
And greatness and
smallness always stand apart ?
True.
Then there is
always something between them ?
There
is.
And can you think
of anything else which is between them other than
equality ?
No, it is equality
which lies between them.
Then that which has
greatness and smallness also has equality, which lies between
them ?
That is
clear.
Then the one, which
is not, partakes, as would appear, of greatness and smallness and
equality ?
Clearly.
Further, it must
surely in a sort partake of being ?
How
so ?
It must be so, for
if not, then we should not speak the truth in saying that the one is not. But if
we speak the truth, clearly we must say what is. Am I not
right ?
Yes.
And since we affirm
that we speak truly, we must also affirm that we say what
is ?
Certainly.
Then, as would
appear, the one, when it is not, is ; for if it were not to be when it is
not, but were to relinquish something of being, so as to become not-being, it
would at once be.
Quite
true.
Then the one which
is not, if it is to maintain itself, must have the being of not-being as the
bond of not-being, just as being must have as a bond the not-being of not-being
in order to perfect its own being ; for the truest assertion of the being
of being and of the not-being of not being is when being partakes of the being
of being, and not of the being of not-being — that is, the perfection of
being ; and when not-being does not partake of the not-being of not-being
but of the being of not-being — that is the perfection of
not-being.
Most
true.
Since then what is
partakes of not-being, and what is not of being, must not the one also partake
of being in order not to be ?
Certainly.
Then the one, if it
is not, clearly has being ?
Clearly.
And has not-being
also, if it is not ?
Of
course.
But can anything
which is in a certain state not be in that state without
changing ?
Impossible.
Then everything
which is and is not in a certain state, implies
change ?
Certainly.
And change is
motion — we may say that ?
Yes,
motion.
And the one has
been proved both to be and not to be ?
Yes.
And therefore is
and is not in the same state ?
Yes.
Thus the one that
is not has been shown to have motion also, because it changes from being to
not-being ?
That appears to be
true.
But surely if it is
nowhere among what is, as is the fact, since it is not, it cannot change from
one place to another ?
Impossible.
Then it cannot move
by changing place ?
No.
Nor can it turn on
the same spot, for it nowhere touches the same, for the same is, and that which
is not cannot be reckoned among things that are ?
It
cannot.
Then the one, if it
is not, cannot turn in that in which it is not ?
No.
Neither can the
one, whether it is or is not, be altered into other than itself, for if it
altered and became different from itself, then we could not be still speaking of
the one, but of something else ?
True.
But if the one
neither suffers alteration, nor turns round in the same place, nor changes
place, can it still be capable of motion ?
Impossible.
Now that which is
unmoved must surely be at rest, and that which is at rest must stand
still ?
Certainly.
Then the one that
is not, stands still, and is also in motion ?
That seems to be
true.
But if it be in
motion it must necessarily undergo alteration, for anything which is moved, in
so far as it is moved, is no longer in the same state, but in
another ?
Yes.
Then the one, being
moved, is altered ?
Yes.
And, further, if
not moved in any way, it will not be altered in any
way ?
No.
Then, in so far as
the one that is not is moved, it is altered, but in so far as it is not moved,
it is not altered ?
Right.
Then the one that
is not is altered and is not altered ?
That is
clear.
And must not that
which is altered become other than it previously was, and lose its former state
and be destroyed ; but that which is not altered can neither come into
being nor be destroyed ?
Very
true.
And the one that is
not, being altered, becomes and is destroyed ; and not being altered,
neither becomes nor is destroyed ; and so the one that is not becomes and
is destroyed, and neither becomes nor is destroyed ?
True.
And now, let us go
back once more to the beginning, and see whether these or some other
consequences will follow.
Let us do as you
say.
If one is not, we
ask what will happen in respect of one ? That is the
question.
Yes.
Do not the words
“is not” signify absence of being in that to which we apply
them ?
Just
so.
And when we say
that a thing is not, do we mean that it is not in one way but is in
another ? or do we mean, absolutely, that what is not has in no sort or way
or kind participation of being ?
Quite
absolutely.
Then, that which is
not cannot be, or in any way participate in being ?
It
cannot.
And did we not mean
by becoming, and being destroyed, the assumption of being and the loss of
being ?
Nothing
else.
And can that which
has no participation in being, either assume or lose
being ?
Impossible.
The one then, since
it in no way is, cannot have or lose or assume being in any
way ?
True.
Then the one that
is not, since it in no way partakes of being, neither nor
becomes ?
No.
Then it is not
altered at all ; for if it were it would become and be
destroyed ?
True.
But if it be not
altered it cannot be moved ?
Certainly
not.
Nor can we say that
it stands, if it is nowhere ; for that which stands must always be in one
and the same spot ?
Of
course.
Then we must say
that the one which is not never stands still and never
moves ?
Neither.
Nor is there any
existing thing which can be attributed to it ; for if there had been, it
would partake of being ?
That is
clear.
And therefore
neither smallness, nor greatness, nor equality, can be attributed to
it ?
No.
Nor yet likeness
nor difference, either in relation to itself or to
others ?
Clearly
not.
Well, and if
nothing should be attributed to it, can other things be attributed to
it ?
Certainly
not.
And therefore other
things can neither be like or unlike, the same, or different in relation to
it ?
They
cannot.
Nor can what is
not, be anything, or be this thing, or be related to or the attribute of this or
that or other, or be past, present, or future. Nor can knowledge, or opinion, or
perception, or expression, or name, or any other thing that is, have any concern
with it ?
No.
Then the one that
is not has no condition of any kind ?
Such appears to be
the conclusion.
Yet once
more ; if one is not, what becomes of the others ? Let us determine
that.
Yes ; let us
determine that.
The others must
surely be ; for if they, like the one, were not, we could not be now
speaking of them.
True.
But to speak of the
others implies difference — the terms “other” and “different” are
synonymous ?
True.
Other means other
than other, and different, different from the
different ?
Yes.
Then, if there are
to be others, there is something than which they will be
other ?
Certainly.
And what can that
be ? — for if the one is not, they will not be other than the
one.
They will
not.
Then they will be
other than each other ; for the only remaining alternative is that they are
other than nothing.
True.
And they are each
other than one another, as being plural and not singular ; for if one is
not, they cannot be singular but every particle of them is infinite in
number ; and even if a person takes that which appears to be the smallest
fraction, this, which seemed one, in a moment evanesces into many, as in a
dream, and from being the smallest becomes very great, in comparison with the
fractions into which it is split up ?
Very
true.
And in such
particles the others will be other than one another, if others are, and the one
is not ?
Exactly.
And will there not
be many particles, each appearing to be one, but not being one, if one is
not ?
True.
And it would seem
that number can be predicated of them if each of them appears to be one, though
it is really many ?
It
can.
And there will seem
to be odd and even among them, which will also have no reality, if one is
not ?
Yes.
And there will
appear to be a least among them ; and even this will seem large and
manifold in comparison with the many small fractions which are contained in
it ?
Certainly.
And each particle
will be imagined to be equal to the many and little ; for it could not have
appeared to pass from the greater to the less without having appeared to arrive
at the middle ; and thus would arise the appearance of
equality.
Yes.
And having neither
beginning, middle, nor end, each separate particle yet appears to have a limit
in relation to itself and other.
How
so ?
Because, when a
person conceives of any one of these as such, prior to the beginning another
beginning appears, and there is another end, remaining after the end, and in the
middle truer middles within but smaller, because no unity can be conceived of
any of them, since the one is not.
Very
true.
And so all being,
whatever we think of, must be broken up into fractions, for a particle will have
to be conceived of without unity ?
Certainly.
And such being when
seen indistinctly and at a distance, appears to be one ; but when seen near
and with keen intellect, every single thing appears to be infinite, since it is
deprived of the one, which is not ?
Nothing more
certain.
Then each of the
others must appear to be infinite and finite, and one and many, if others than
the one exist and not the one.
They
must.
Then will they not
appear to be like and unlike ?
In what
way ?
Just as in a
picture things appear to be all one to a person standing at a distance, and to
be in the same state and alike ?
True.
But when you
approach them, they appear to be many and different ; and because of the
appearance of the difference, different in kind from, and unlike,
themselves ?
True.
And so must the
particles appear to be like and unlike themselves and each
other.
Certainly.
And must they not
be the same and yet different from one another, and in contact with themselves,
although they are separated, and having every sort of motion, and every sort of
rest, and becoming and being destroyed, and in neither state, and the like, all
which things may be easily enumerated, if the one is not and the many
are ?
Most
true.
Once more, let us
go back to the beginning, and ask if the one is not, and the others of the one
are, what will follow.
Let us ask that
question.
In the first place,
the others will not be one ?
Impossible.
Nor will they be
many ; for if they were many one would be contained in them. But if no one
of them is one, all of them are nought, and therefore they will not be
many.
True.
If there be no one
in the others, the others are neither many nor one.
They are
not.
Nor do they appear
either as one or many.
Why
not ?
Because the others
have no sort or manner or way of communion with any sort of not-being, nor can
anything which is not, be connected with any of the others ; for that which
is not has no parts.
True.
Nor is there an
opinion or any appearance of not-being in connection with the others, nor is
not-being ever in any way attributed to the others.
No.
Then if one is not,
the others neither are, nor any of the others either as one or many ; for
you cannot conceive the many without the one.
You
cannot.
Then if one is not,
there is no conception of can be conceived to be either one or
many ?
It would seem
not.
Nor as like or
unlike ?
No.
Nor as the same or
different, nor in contact or separation, nor in any of those states which we
enumerated as appearing to be ; — the others neither are nor appear to be
any of these, if one is not ?
True.
Then may we not sum
up the argument in a word and say truly : If one is not, then nothing
is ?
Certainly.
Let thus much be
said ; and further let us affirm what seems to be the truth, that, whether
one is or is not, one and the others in relation to themselves and one another,
all of them, in every way, are and are not, and appear to be and appear not to
be.
Most
true.