Dialogues

look, you find that one of the two classes of imitators is a simple creature, who thinks that he knows that which he only fancies; the other sort has knocked about among arguments, until he suspects and fears that he is ignorant of that which to the many he pretends to know. Theaetetus There are certainly the two kinds which you describe. Stranger Shall we regard one as the simple imitator⁠—the other as the dissembling or ironical imitator? Theaetetus Very good. Stranger And shall we further speak of this latter class as having one or two divisions? Theaetetus Answer yourself. Stranger Upon consideration, then, there appear to me to be two; there is the dissembler, who harangues a multitude in public in a long speech, and the dissembler, who in private and in short speeches compels the person who is conversing with him to contradict himself. Theaetetus What you say is most true. Stranger And who is the maker of the longer speeches? Is he the statesman or the popular orator? Theaetetus The latter. Stranger And what shall we call the other? Is he the philosopher or the Sophist? Theaetetus The philosopher he cannot be, for upon our view he is ignorant; but since he is an imitator of the wise he will have a name which is formed by an adaptation of the word sophos. What shall we name him? I am pretty sure that I cannot be mistaken in terming him the true and very Sophist. Stranger Shall we bind up his name as we did before, making a chain from one end of his genealogy to the other? Theaetetus By all means. Stranger He, then,335 who traces the pedigree of his art as follows⁠—who, belonging to the conscious or dissembling section of the art of causing self-contradiction, is an imitator of appearance, and is separated from the class of fantastic which is a branch of image-making into that further division of creation, the juggling of words, a creation human, and not divine⁠—anyone who affirms the real Sophist to be of this blood and lineage will say the very truth. Theaetetus Undoubtedly.

Statesman

Introduction and Analysis

In the “Phaedrus,” the Republic, the “Philebus,” the “Parmenides,” and the “Sophist,” we may observe the tendency of Plato to combine two or more subjects or different aspects of the same subject in a single dialogue. In the “Sophist” and “Statesman” especially we note that the discussion is partly regarded as an illustration of method, and that analogies are brought from afar which throw light on the main subject. And in his later writings generally we further remark a decline of style, and of dramatic power; the characters excite little or no interest, and the digressions are apt to overlay the main thesis; there is not the callida junctura of an artistic whole. Both the serious discussions and the jests are sometimes out of place. The invincible Socrates is withdrawn from view; and new foes begin to appear under old names. Plato is now chiefly concerned, not with the original Sophist, but with the sophistry of the schools of philosophy, which are making reasoning impossible; and is driven by them out of the regions of transcendental speculation back into the path of common sense. A logical or psychological phase takes the place of the doctrine of Ideas in his mind. He is constantly dwelling on the importance of regular classification, and of not putting words in the place of things. He has banished the poets, and is beginning to use a technical language. He is bitter and satirical, and seems to be sadly conscious of the realities of human life. Yet the ideal glory of the Platonic philosophy is not extinguished. He is still looking for a city in which kings are either philosophers or gods (compare Laws IV 713).

The “Statesman” has lost the grace and beauty of the earlier dialogues. The mind of the writer seems to be so overpowered in the effort of thought as to impair his style; at least his gift of expression does not keep up with the increasing difficulty of his theme. The idea of the king or statesman and the illustration of method are connected, not like the love and rhetoric of the “Phaedrus,” by “little invisible pegs,” but in a confused and inartistic manner, which fails to produce any impression of a whole on the mind of the reader. Plato apologizes for his tediousness, and acknowledges that the improvement of his audience has been his only aim in some of his digressions. His own image may be used as a motto of his style: like an inexpert statuary he has made the figure or outline too large (277 A), and is unable to give the proper colours or proportions to his work. He makes mistakes only to correct them⁠—this seems to be his way of drawing attention to common dialectical errors. The Eleatic stranger, here, as in the “Sophist,” has no appropriate character, and appears only as the expositor of a political ideal, in the delineation of which he is frequently interrupted by purely logical illustrations. The younger Socrates resembles his namesake in nothing but a name. The dramatic character is so completely forgotten, that a special reference is twice made to discussions in the “Sophist”; and this, perhaps, is the strongest ground which can be urged for doubting the genuineness of the work. But, when we remember that a similar allusion is made in the Laws (V 739) to the Republic, we see that the entire disregard of dramatic propriety is not always a sufficient reason for doubting the genuineness of a Platonic writing (see infra).

The search after the Statesman, which is carried on, like that for the Sophist, by the method of dichotomy, gives an opportunity for many humorous and satirical remarks. Several of the jests are mannered and laboured: for example, the turn of words with which the dialogue opens; or the clumsy joke about man being