Theaetetus | Page 6

man- midwifery
of Socrates, are not forgotten in the closing words. At the end of the
dialogue, as in the Euthyphro, he is expecting to meet Meletus at the
porch of the king Archon; but with the same indifference to the result
which is everywhere displayed by him, he proposes that they shall
reassemble on the following day at the same spot. The day comes, and
in the Sophist the three friends again meet, but no further allusion is
made to the trial, and the principal share in the argument is assigned,
not to Socrates, but to an Eleatic stranger; the youthful Theaetetus also
plays a different and less independent part. And there is no allusion in
the Introduction to the second and third dialogues, which are afterwards
appended. There seems, therefore, reason to think that there is a real
change, both in the characters and in the design.
The dialogue is an enquiry into the nature of knowledge, which is
interrupted by two digressions. The first is the digression about the
midwives, which is also a leading thought or continuous image, like the
wave in the Republic, appearing and reappearing at intervals. Again
and again we are reminded that the successive conceptions of
knowledge are extracted from Theaetetus, who in his turn truly declares
that Socrates has got a great deal more out of him than ever was in him.
Socrates is never weary of working out the image in humorous
details,--discerning the symptoms of labour, carrying the child round
the hearth, fearing that Theaetetus will bite him, comparing his
conceptions to wind-eggs, asserting an hereditary right to the
occupation. There is also a serious side to the image, which is an apt
similitude of the Socratic theory of education (compare Republic,
Sophist), and accords with the ironical spirit in which the wisest of men
delights to speak of himself.
The other digression is the famous contrast of the lawyer and

philosopher. This is a sort of landing-place or break in the middle of the
dialogue. At the commencement of a great discussion, the reflection
naturally arises, How happy are they who, like the philosopher, have
time for such discussions (compare Republic)! There is no reason for
the introduction of such a digression; nor is a reason always needed,
any more than for the introduction of an episode in a poem, or of a
topic in conversation. That which is given by Socrates is quite
sufficient, viz. that the philosopher may talk and write as he pleases.
But though not very closely connected, neither is the digression out of
keeping with the rest of the dialogue. The philosopher naturally desires
to pour forth the thoughts which are always present to him, and to
discourse of the higher life. The idea of knowledge, although hard to be
defined, is realised in the life of philosophy. And the contrast is the
favourite antithesis between the world, in the various characters of
sophist, lawyer, statesman, speaker, and the philosopher,--between
opinion and knowledge,--between the conventional and the true.
The greater part of the dialogue is devoted to setting up and throwing
down definitions of science and knowledge. Proceeding from the lower
to the higher by three stages, in which perception, opinion, reasoning
are successively examined, we first get rid of the confusion of the idea
of knowledge and specific kinds of knowledge,--a confusion which has
been already noticed in the Lysis, Laches, Meno, and other dialogues.
In the infancy of logic, a form of thought has to be invented before the
content can be filled up. We cannot define knowledge until the nature
of definition has been ascertained. Having succeeded in making his
meaning plain, Socrates proceeds to analyze (1) the first definition
which Theaetetus proposes: 'Knowledge is sensible perception.' This is
speedily identified with the Protagorean saying, 'Man is the measure of
all things;' and of this again the foundation is discovered in the
perpetual flux of Heracleitus. The relativeness of sensation is then
developed at length, and for a moment the definition appears to be
accepted. But soon the Protagorean thesis is pronounced to be suicidal;
for the adversaries of Protagoras are as good a measure as he is, and
they deny his doctrine. He is then supposed to reply that the perception
may be true at any given instant. But the reply is in the end shown to be
inconsistent with the Heraclitean foundation, on which the doctrine has
been affirmed to rest. For if the Heraclitean flux is extended to every

sort of change in every instant of time, how can any thought or word be
detained even for an instant? Sensible perception, like everything else,
is tumbling to pieces. Nor can Protagoras himself maintain that one
man is as good as another in his knowledge of the future; and 'the