Part 150

Socr. When, therefore, perception is present to one of the impressions, and not to the other, and the one applies the impression of the absent perception to that which is present, in this case the mind is altogether deceived: and, in a word, with respect to things that a person has neither known nor ever perceived, it is not possible, as it seems, either to be deceived, or to form a false judgment, if there is any soundness in what we now say: but with respect to things that we know and perceive, in these very things judgment is conversant and turns round, becoming both false and true, by collecting together in a direct and straight line the copies and marks proper to each, it is true, but sideways and obliquely, false.

124. Theæ. Is it not well described, Socrates?

Socr. You will say so still more, when you hear what follows. For to judge truly is beautiful, but to be deceived is base.

Theæ. How not?

Socr. They say, then, that these things proceed from hence. When the wax in any one’s soul is deep, abundant, smooth, and properly moulded, objects entering by means of the perceptions and impressing themselves on this heart of the soul, as Homer calls it, obscurely intimating its resemblance to wax, then pure and sufficiently deep impressions being made in these, become lasting, and such men are first of all easily taught, next have retentive memories, and lastly do not change the impressions of the perceptions, but form true judgments; for, as these impressions are clear, and in a wide space, they quickly distribute to their proper images each of the things that are called beings; and such men are called wise. Does it not appear so to you?

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Footnote 163:

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

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Theæ. Entirely so.

125. Socr. When, therefore, any one’s heart is covered with hair, which the very wise poet has celebrated, or when it is muddy, and not of pure wax, or very soft, or hard, those in whom it is soft are easily taught, but are forgetful, and those in when it is hard, the contrary; but those who have it hairy and rough, and stony or full of earth or mixed mud, have indistinct impressions; they are also indistinct in those that are hard, for there is no depth in them; they are likewise indistinct in those that are soft, for by being confused they soon become obscure; but if, in addition to all this, they fall one upon another by reason of narrowness of space, if any one’s soul is little, they are still more indistinct than the others. All these, therefore, are such as form false judgments. For when they see, or hear, or think about any thing, not being able at once to attribute each object to its impression, they are slow, and attributing different objects to different impressions, they for the most part see wrongly, and hear wrongly, and think wrongly; and these are said to be deceived in objects and ignorant.

Theæ. You speak as correctly as man can do, Socrates.

126. Socr. Shall we say, then, that there are false judgments in us?

Theæ. By all means.

Socr. And true judgments also?

Theæ. And true.

Socr. Do we, then, consider it to have been sufficiently established that these two judgments do without doubt exist?

Theæ. Most assuredly.

Socr. A talkative man, Theætetus, appears to be really troublesome and disagreeable.

Theæ. How so? Why do you say this?

Socr. Because I am angry at my own ignorance, and, in truth, talkativeness. For what other name can any one give it when a man drags the conversation upwards and downwards, and cannot be persuaded through his dulness, and is with difficulty torn from each several topic?

Theæ. But why are you angry?

Socr. I am not only angry, but I am afraid that I should not know what to answer, if any one should ask me, “Socrates, have you found that false judgment is neither in the perceptions compared with each other, nor in the thoughts, but in the conjunction of perception with thought?” I think I shall say, I have, priding myself as if we had made a very fine discovery.

127. Theæ. What has just now been proved appears to me, Socrates, to be by no means despicable.

Socr. Do you therefore assert, he will say, that we can never suppose that a man whom we think of only, but do not see, is a horse, which we neither see nor touch, but think of only, and do not perceive in any other way? I believe I should say, that I do assert this.

Theæ. And rightly.

Socr. What then? he will say, according to this mode of reasoning, can the number eleven, which one thinks of only, ever be supposed to be twelve, which also one thinks of only? Come then, do you answer?

Theæ. I should answer, that a person seeing or touching might suppose that eleven are twelve, but that he would never think thus respecting numbers which he embraces only in thought.