The Phaedrus and the Sophist

 

In ‘The argument and structure of Plato’s Phaedrus’ at point (2) Rowe maintains that the procedures of collection and division ‘connect the Phaedrus especially with the Sophist and the Politicus’. As such, this leaves the question of the dating of these two dialogues relative to the Phaedrus undecided. But he goes on to say: ‘and I believe that it [i.e. the Phaedrus] contains an actual parody of the sort of elaborate definition which results from the division in both these dialogues (I refer to Socrates’ “dithyrambic” definition of love at 238b-c, in his first speech)’. If the Phaedrus contains a parody of the definition which results from division in the Sophist and in the Politicus, it must be later than these two dialogues.

The definition is as follows: ‘The irrational desire which has gained control over judgement which urges a man towards the right (hȇ gar aneu logou doxȇs epi to orthon hormȏsȇs kratȇsasa epithumia), borne towards pleasure in beauty (pros hȇdonȇn achtheisa kallous), and which is forcefully reinforced by the desires related to it in its pursuit of bodily beauty (kai hupo au tȏn heautȇs sungenȏn epithumiȏn epi sȏmatȏn kallos errȏmenȏs rȏstheisa), overcoming them in its course (nikȇsasa agȏgȇi), and takes its name from its very force (ap’ autȇs tȇs rhȏmȇs epȏnumian labousa) – this is called love (erȏs eklȇthȇ).’ (Phaedrus 238b7-c4, tr. C.J. Rowe)

In the preceding post I discussed Rowe’s attempt to connect the Phaedrus and the Politicus, in this post I shall discuss the connection between the Phaedrus and the Sophist.

Dramatically, the discussion in the Sophist took place a day after the discussion in the Theaetetus, that is a day after Socrates was officially notified of the charges of impiety and of corrupting the youth of Athens raised against him. Socrates ends the Theaetetus with the words: ‘Well, now I must go to the King’s Porch (nun men oun apantȇteon moi eis tȇn tou basileȏs stoan) to face the charge Meletus has brought against me (epi tȇn Melȇtou graphȇn hȇn me gegraptai). But let’s meet here again, Theodorus, in the morning (heȏthen de, ȏ Theodȏre, deuro palin apantȏmen).’ (Tr. John McDowell) Theodorus opens the Sophist with the words: ‘Here we are, Socrates, true to our agreement of yesterday (Kata tȇn chthes homologian, ȏ Sȏkrates, hȇkomen autoi te kosmiȏs); and we bring with us a stranger from Elea (kai tonde tina xenon agomen, to men genos ex Eleas), who is a disciple of Parmenides and Zeno (hetairon de tȏn amphi Parmenidȇn kai Zȇnȏna), and a true philosopher (mala de andra philosophon).’ Socrates tells Theodorus that he would like to ask the Stranger what is thought in Italy about sophist, statesman, philosopher: ‘I want to know whether by his countrymen they are regarded as one or two (poteron hen panta tauta enomizon ȇ duo); or do they, as the names are three (ȇ kathaper ta onomata tria), distinguish also three kinds (tria kai ta genȇ diairoumenoi), and assign one to each name (kath’ hen onoma hekastȏi prosȇpton, 217a6-8)?’ Asked by Theodorus, the Stranger replies: ‘I have no difficulty in replying (ou chalepon eipein) that by us they are regarded as three (hoti ge tri’ hȇgounto). But to define precisely the nature of each of them (kath’ hekaston mȇn diorisasthai saphȏs ti pot’ estin) is by no means a slight or easy task (ou smikron oude raidion ergon). (217b1-3, translation from the Sophist B. Jowett)

Theaetetus was chosen as Stranger’s interlocutor, and the latter addressed him as follows: ‘You and I will begin together to enquire into the nature of the Sophist, first of the three (koinȇi met’ emou soi suskepteon archomenȏi prȏton nun apo tou sophistou). I should like you to make out what he is and bring him to light in a discussion (zȇtounti kai emphanizonti logȏi ti pot esti); for at present we are only agreed about the name (nun gar dȇ su te k’agȏ toutou peri t’ounoma monon echomen koinȇi), but of the thing to which we both apply the name (to de ergon eph’ hȏi kaloumen hekateros) possibly you have one notion and I another (tach’ an idiai par hȇmin autois echoimen); whereas we ought always to come to an understanding about the thing itself in terms of a definition, and not merely about the name minus the definition (dei de aei pantos peri to pragma auto mallon dia logȏn ȇ t’ounoma monon sunȏmologȇsthai chȏris logou).’ (218b6-c5)

The similarity between the Stranger’s opening address to Theaetetus and Socrates’ opening address to the imaginary boy in his first speech in the Phaedrus is worth noting: ‘In everything (Peri pantos), my boy (ȏ pai), there is one starting-point (mia archȇ) for anyone who is going to deliberate successfully (tois mellousi kalȏs bouleusesthai): he must know what it is he is deliberating about (eidenai dei peri hou an ȇi hȇ boulȇ), or he will inevitably miss everything (ȇ pantos hamartanein anankȇ). Most people are unaware (tous de pollous lelȇthen) that they do not know (hoti ouk isasi) what each thing really is (tȇn ousian hekastou). So they fail to reach agreement about it at the beginning of their enquiry, assuming that they know what it is (hȏs oun eidotes ou diomologountai en archȇi tȇs skepseȏs), and having proceeded on this basis they pay the penalty one would expect (proelthontes de to eikos apodidoasin): they agree neither with themselves nor with each other (oute gar heautois oute allȇlois homologousin). So let us, you and I, avoid having happen to us what we find fault with others (egȏ oun kai su mȇ pathȏmen ho allois epitimȏmen): since the question before you and me is (all’ epeidȇ soi kai emoi ho logos prokeitai) whether one should rather enter into friendship with lover or non-lover (potera erȏnti ȇ mȇ mallon eis philian iteon), let us establish an agreed definition of love, about what sort of thing it is and what power it possesses (peri erȏtos hoion t’ esti kai hȇn echei dunamin, homologiai themenoi horon), and look to this as our point of reference while we make our enquiry whether it brings advantage or harm (eis touto apoblepontes kai anapherontes tȇn skepsin poiȏmetha eite ȏphelian ȇ blabȇn parechei).’ (237b7-d3, tr. Rowe)

In the Phaedrus Socrates relates his outline of the dialectic procedures of collection and division to his two speeches: ‘To me it seems (Emoi men phainetai) that the rest really was playfully done, by way of amusement (ta men alla tȏi onti paidiai pepaisthai); but by chance two principles of method of the following sort were expressed, and it would be gratifying if one could grasp their significance in a scientific way (toutȏn de tinȏn ek tuchȇs rȇthentȏn duoin eidoin, ei autoin tȇn dunamin technȇi labein dunaito tis, ouk achari, 265c8-d1).’

Phaedrus asks what were the two principles of method, and Socrates explains: ‘‘First, there is perceiving together and bringing into one form items that are scattered in many places (Eis mian idean sunorȏnta agein ta pollachȇi diesparmena), in order that one can define each thing (hina hekaston horizomenos) and make clear (dȇlon poiȇi) whatever it is that one wishes to instruct one’s audience about on any occasion (peri hou an aei didaskein ethelȇi). Just so with the things said just now about love (hȏsper ta nundȇ peri erȏtos), about what it is when defined (ho estin horisthen): whether it was right or wrong (eit’ eu eite kakȏs elechthȇ), the speech was able to say what was at any rate clear and self-consistent because of that (to g’oun saphes kai to auto hautȏi homologoumenon dia tauta eschen eipein ho logos).’ – Phaedrus: ‘And what is the second kind of principle you refer to (To d’ heteron dȇ eidos ti legeis), Socrates (ȏ Sȏkrates;)?’ – Socrates: ‘Being able to cut it up again, form by form (To palin kat’ eidȇ dunasthai diatemnein), according to its natural joints (kat’ arthra hȇi pephuken), and not try to break any part into pieces (kai mȇ epicheirein katagnunai meros mȇden), like an inexpert butcher (kakou mageirou tropȏi chrȏmenon); as just now the two speeches (all’ hȏsper arti tȏ logȏ) took the unreasoning aspect of the mind as one form together (to men aphron tȇs dianoias hen ti koinȇi eidos elabetȇn), and just as a single body naturally has its parts in pairs, with both members of each pair having the same name (hȏsper de sȏmatos ex henos dipla kai homȏnuma pephuke), and labelled respectively left and right (skaia, ta de dexia klȇthenta), so too the too speeches regarded derangement as naturally a single form in us (houtȏ kai to tȇs paranoias hȏs hen en hȇmin pephukos eidos hȇgȇsamenȏ tȏ logȏ), and the one cut off the part on the left-hand side (ho men to ep’ aristera temnomenos meros), then cutting it again (palin touto temnȏn), and not giving up (ouk epanȇken) until it had found among the parts a love which is, as we  say, “left-handed” (prin en autois epheurȏn onomazomenon skaion tina erȏta), and abused it with full justice (eloidorȇsen mal’ en dikȇi), while the other speech led us to the parts of madness on the right-hand side (ho d’ eis ta en dexiai tȇs manias agagȏn hȇmas), and discovering and exhibiting a love which shares the same name as the other, but is divine (homȏnumon ekeinȏi, theion d’ au tina erȏta epheurȏn kai proteinamenos), it praised it (epȇinesen) as cause of our greatest goods (hȏs megiston aition hȇmin agathȏn).’ (265d3-266b1)

Hackforth notes: ‘There are serious difficulties in this paragraph. Socrates speaks as though the generic concept of madness (to aphron, paranoia, mania) had been common to his two speeches, and there had been a formal divisional procedure followed in both of them. Neither of these things is true. In the first speech Socrates starts by bringing erȏs under the genus epithumia but this is superseded by hubris, which is declared to be polumeles kai polueides [‘it has many branches and forms’] (238a); it is then shown that erȏs is a species of hubris, but this is done not by successive dichotomies, but by an informal discrimination from an indefinite number of other species, of which only two are named. It is only in the second speech that Socrates starts with a clear concept of “madness”; but here again there is no scheme of successive divisions, whether dichotomous or other: there is merely the single step of a fourfold division.’ (Plato’s PHAEDRUS, Translated with an Introduction and Commentary by R. Hackforth, Cambridge at the University Press, 1952, repr. 1972, p. 133, n. 1)’

Concerning Socrates’ speeches, one might excuse the inconsistencies by the inspired way in which he delivered them. After defining erȏs at 238b7-c4 he reflected on his own performance as follows: ‘Well (Atar), Phaedrus my friend (ȏ phile Phaidre), do you think, as I do, that I am divinely inspired (dokȏ ti soi, hȏsper emautȏi, theion pathos peponthenai;)? … For truly there seems to be a divine presence in this spot (tȏi onti gar theios eoiken ho topos einai), so that you must not be surprised if, as my speech proceeds, I become as one possessed (hȏste ean ara pollakis numpholȇptos proïontos tou logou genȏmai, mȇ thaumasȇis); already my style is not far from dithyrambic (ta nun gar ouketi porrȏ dithurambȏn phthengomai).’ (238c5-d3, tr. Hackforth)

Compare the sober, well thought through manner in which the Eleatic Stranger introduces Theaetetus to the method of arriving at a definition by collection and division in the Sophist (I’ll leave out most of Theaetetus’ responses):

‘We ought always to come to an understanding about the thing itself in terms of a definition (dei de aei pantos peri to pragma auto dia logȏn sunȏmologȇsthai). The tribe of Sophist is troublesome and hard to be caught, I should recommend that we practice beforehand the method which is to be applied to him on some simple and smaller thing (nun oun egȏge nȏin sumbouleuȏ, chalepon kai dusthȇreuton hȇgȇsamenos einai to tou sophistou genos proteron en allȏi raioni tȇn methodon autou promeletan) … What is there which is well known and not great (Ti dȇta protaxaimeth’ an eugnȏston men kai smikron), and is yet susceptible of definition as any larger thing (logon de mȇdenos elattona echon tȏn meizonȏn;)? Shall I say an angler (hoion aspalieutȇs)? He is familiar to all of us (ar’ ou pasi te gnȏrimon), and not a very interesting or important person (kai spoudȇs ou panu ti pollȇs epaxion;). Yet I suspect that he will furnish us with the sort of definition and line of enquiry which we want (Methodon mȇn auton elpizȏ kai logon ouk anepitȇdeion hȇmin echein pros ho boulometha). Let us begin by asking whether he is a man having art or not having art, but some other power (Phere dȇ, tȇde archȏmetha autou. Kai moi lege, poteron hȏs technitȇn auton ȇ tina atechnon, allȇn de dunamin echonta thȇsomen;).’ – Theaetetus: ‘He is clearly a man of art (Hȇkista ge atechnon).’ – Str.: ‘And of arts there are two kinds (Alla mȇn tȏn ge technȏn pasȏn schedon eidȇ duo). There is agriculture (Geȏrgia men), and the tending of mortal creatures (kai hosȇ peri to thnȇton pan sȏma therapeia), and the art of constructing or moulding vessels (to te au peri to suntheton kai plaston, ho dȇ skeuos ȏnomakamen), and there is the art of imitation (hȇ te mimȇtikȇ) … let us sum them up under the name of productive or creative art (Poiȇtikȇn toinun auta sunkephalaiȏsamenoi proseipȏmen) …

Next follows the whole class of learning and cognition (To dȇ mathȇmatikon au meta touto eidos holon kai to tȇs gnȏriseȏs); then comes trade (to te chrȇmatistikon), fighting (kai agȏnistikon), hunting (kai thȇreutikon). And since none of these produces anything (epeidȇ dȇmiourgei men ouden toutȏn), and is only engaged in conquering by word or deed, or preventing others from conquering, things which exist and have been already produced (ta de onta kai gegonota ta men cheiroutai logois kai praxesi, ta de tois cheiroumenois ouk epitrepei) – in each and all of these branches there appears to be an art which may be called acquisitive (malist’ an pou dia tauta sunapanta ta merȇ technȇ tis ktȇtikȇ lechtheisa an diaprepseien) … Seeing, then, that all arts are either acquisitive or creative (Ktȇtikȇs dȇ kai poiȇtikȇs sumpasȏn ousȏn tȏn technȏn), in which class shall we place the art of the angler (en poterai tȇn aspalieutikȇn tithȏmen;)?’ – Th.: ‘Clearly in the acquisitive class (En ktȇtikȇi pou dȇlon).’ – Str.: ’And the acquisitive may be subdivided into two parts (Ktȇtikȇs de ar’ ou duo eidȇ;): there is exchange, which is voluntary (to men hekontȏn pros hekontas metablȇtikon on) and is affected by gifts (dia te dȏreȏn), hire (kai misthȏseȏn), purchase (kai agoraseȏn); and the other part of acquisitive (to de loipon), which takes by force of word or deed (ȇ kat’ erga ȇ kata logous cheiroumenon sumpan), may be termed conquest (cheirȏtikon an eiȇ;)? … And may not conquest be again subdivided (tȇn cheirȏtikȇn ar’ ou dichȇi tmȇteon;)? Open force may be called fighting (To men anaphandon holon agȏnistikon thentas), and secret force may have the general name of hunting (to de kruphaion autȇs pan thȇreutikon)? … And animal hunting may be truly said to have two divisions (Zȏiothȇrikȇs de ar’ ou diploun eidos an legoito en dikȇi), land-animal hunting, which has many kinds and names (to men pezou genous, pollois eidesi kai onomasi diȇirȇmenon, pezothȇrikon) and water-animal hunting, or hunting after animals who swim (to d’ heteron neustikou zȏiou pan enugrothȇrikon)? … The hunting of animals who live in the water has the general name of fishing (Tou de enudrou schedon to sunolon halieutikȇ) … And this sort of hunting (tautȇn au tȇn thȇran) may be further divided into two principal kinds (ar’ ouk an kata megista merȇ duo dieloimen;)? … There is one kind which takes them in nets (Kath’ ha to men herkesin autothen poieitai tȇn thȇran), another which takes them by a blow (to de plȇgȇi) … that which strikes the fish who is below from above is called spearing (to men anȏthen eis to katȏ gignomenon triodontia tis keklȇtai) … Then now there is only one kind remaining (To de ge loipon estin hen eti monon hȏs eipein eidos).’ – Th.: ‘What is that (To poion;)?’ – Str.: ‘When a hook is used, and the fish is not struck in any chance part of his body (To tȇs enantias tautȇi plȇgȇs, ankistrȏi te gignomenon kai tȏn ichthuȏn ouch hȇi tis an tuchȇi tou sȏmatos), as he is with the spear (hȏsper tois triodousi), but only about the head and mouth (alla peri tȇn kephalȇn kai to stoma tou thȇreuthentos hekastote), and is then drawn out from below upwards with reeds and rods (kai katȏthen eis t’ounantion anȏ rabdois kai kalamois anaspȏmenon): – What is the right name of that mode of fishing, Theaetetus (hou ti phȇsomen, ȏ Theaitȇte, dein onoma legesthai;)?’ – Th.: ‘I suspect (Dokȏ men) that we have now discovered the object of our search (hoper arti prouthemetha dein exeurein, tout’ auto nun apotelesthai).’ – Str.: ‘Then now you and I have come to an understanding not only about the name of the angler’s art (Nun ara tȇs aspalieutikȇs su te k’agȏ sunȏmologȇkamen ou monon t’ounoma), but about the definition of the thing itself (alla kai ton logon peri auto t’ourgon eilȇphamen hikanȏs). One half of all art was acquisitive (sumpasȇs gar technȇs to men hȇmisu meros ktȇtikon ȇn) – half of the acquisitive art was conquest or taking by force (ktȇtikou de cheirȏtikon), half of this was hunting (cheirȏtikou de thȇreutikon), and half of hunting was hunting animals (tou de thȇreutikou zȏiothȇrikon), half of this was hunting water animals (zȏiothȇreutikou de enugrothȇrikon), of this again the under half was fishing (enugrothȇrikou de to katȏthen tmȇma holon halieutikon), half of fishing was striking (halieutikȇs de plȇktikon); a part of striking was fishing with a barb (plȇktikȇs de ankistreutikon), and one half of this again (toutou de), being the kind which strikes with a hook and draws the fish from below upwards (to peri tȇn katȏthen anȏ plȇgȇn anaspȏmenȇn), is the art which we have been seeking, and which from the nature of the operation is denoted angling or drawing up (ap’ autȇs tȇs praxeȏs aphomoiȏthen t’ounoma, hȇ nun aspaleutikȇ zȇtȇtheisa epiklȇn gegonen).’ – Th.: ‘The result has been quite satisfactorily brought out (Pantapasi men oun touto ge hikanȏs dedȇlȏtai.’ – Str.: ‘And now (Phere dȇ), following this pattern (kata touto to paradeigma), let us endeavour to find out what a Sophist is (kai ton Sophistȇn epicheirȏmen eipein hoti pot’ estin).’ (218d2-221c6, tr. B. Jowett)

The question is, whether Socrates’ definition of love in his first speech in the Phaedrus can be viewed as a parody of definitions in the Sophist, of which the definition of the angler presents a paradigm.

The OSD defines parody as follows: ‘1. A composition in which the characteristic turns of thought and phrase of an author are mimicked and made to appear ridiculous, especially by applying them to ludicrously inappropriate subjects. 2. A poor and feeble imitation, a travesty.’

Let me repeat the definition that Rowe views as ‘an actual parody of the sort of elaborate definition which results from the division’ in the Sophist: ‘The irrational desire which has gained control over judgement which urges a man towards the right, borne towards pleasure in beauty, and which is forcefully reinforced by the desires related to it in its pursuit of bodily beauty, overcoming them in its course, and takes its name from its very force – this is called love.’

Is there anything in this definition that can be seen as a parody of thought and phrase used in the paradigmatic definition of an angler? If not, then Rowe’s dating of the Phaedrus later than the Sophist becomes unfounded.

On the other hand, there are moments in the Sophist which indicate that Plato was thinking of the Phaedrus when he wrote it. As has been seen, Socrates’ introductory address to the boy, in which the importance of definition of anything (peri pantos, Phdr. 237b7) is emphasised, appears to be reproduced in the Eleatic Stranger’s address to Theaetetus: ‘We ought always to come to an understanding about the thing itself in terms of a definition (dei de aei pantos peri to pragma auto dia logȏn sunȏmologȇsthai, Soph. 218c4-5).’ Next, when the Stranger divides the acquisitive art into two parts, characterising the first part by exchange, which is affected by gifts (dia dȏreȏn, 219d5), he appears to be thinking of love lampooned in Socrates’ first speech. That this is the case becomes clear when we glance at the first definition of the Sophist.

Stranger: ‘And now (Phere dȇ), following this pattern (kata touto to paradeigma), let us endeavour to find out what a Sophist is (kai ton sophistȇn epicheirȏmen heurein hoti pot’ estin, 221c5-6).’  The Stranger points out that the angler and the Sophist are related: ‘They both appear to me to be hunters (Thȇreuta tine kataphainesthon amphȏ moi) … Their paths diverge when they reach the art of animal hunting (Ektrepesthon de ge apo tȇs zȏiothȇrikȇs), the one going to the seashore (ho men epi thalattan pou), and to the rivers (kai potamous) and to the lakes (kai limnas) … While the other goes to land (Ho de ge epi gȇn) and rivers of another sort (kai potamous heterous au tinas), of wealth (ploutou) and of youth (kai neotȇtos), as on rich meadows (hoion leimȏnas aphthonous). (221d13-222a10)

With the notion of leimȏnes on which the sophist is hunting Plato appears to be pointing to Socrates’ first speech in the Phaedrus, contrasting it to his second speech, in which he turned the eyes of the boy to ‘the plain of truth (to alȇtheias pedion), which provides pasturage proper for the best part of the soul from the meadow there (hȇ prosȇkousa psuchȇs tȏi aristȏi nomȇ ek tou ekei leimȏnos tunchanei ousa, 248b6-c1).

The Stranger and Theaetetus follow the Sophist to the art of persuasion (pithanourgikȇ), which contains the art of the lawyer, the art of the popular orator, and the art of conversation (prosomilȇtikȇn, 222c9-d1). Lewis Campbell remarked on prosomilȇtikȇn: ‘The word is invented in order to include love-making and sophistry under one heading.’ (I noted Campbell’s remark on the margin of my Oxford edition of Plato.) No reader of Plato’s Phaedrus would have had any difficulty in understanding this neologism, for in the Palinode, his second speech, Socrates likens the human soul to a charioteer with two horses, one good, one bad, and the verb prosomilein plays a prominent part in the bad horse’s behaviour at the sight of the beloved boy: ‘consorting with wantonness (hubrei prosomilȏn) he has no fear (ou dedoiken) nor shame (oud’ aischunetai) in running after unnatural pleasure (para phusin hȇdonȇn diȏkȏn, 250e5-251a1, tr. Hackforth)’.

The Stranger then divides the art of persuasion into private and public art, then he divides the private art of persuasion into the mercenary art (to mistharnȇtikon) and the art of bringing gifts (to dȏrophorikon). Theaetetus does not understand (Ou manthanȏ). The Stranger remarks: ‘You seem never to have observed the manner in which the lovers hunt (Tȇi tȏn erȏntȏn thȇrai ton noun, hȏs eoikas, oupȏ prosesches) … I mean that they lavish gifts on those whom they hunt in addition to other inducements (Hoti tois thȇreutheisi dȏra prosepididoasin) … Let us admit this, then, to be the amatory art (Touto men toinun erȏtikȇs technȇs estȏ eidos)’ (222d3-e3)

If these observations reflect on Socrates’ two speeches in the Phaedrus, doesn’t this suggest that the Phaedrus was composed close to the Sophist? To answer this question, we must pay due attention to the outline of divisions in the Phaedrus. Let me quote again: ‘the too speeches regarded derangement as naturally a single form in us, and the one cut off the part on the left-hand side, then cutting it again, and not giving up until it had found among the parts a love which is, as we say, “left-handed”, and abused it with full justice, while the other speech led us to the parts of madness on the right-hand side, and discovering and exhibiting a love which shares the same name as the other, but is divine, it praised it as cause of our greatest goods.’ The whole point of the method of divisions is to arrive at certain knowledge. In between the Phaedrus and the Sophist Plato wrote dialogues in which Socrates attempts to reach truth, but never quite makes it – until his last day’s discussion with his friends, in the Phaedo, where he proves the immortality of the soul, with his eyes directed towards the Forms.

In the Phaedrus Socrates commented on his outline of collections and divisions with the words: ‘If I think anyone else has the natural capacity to look to one and the many, I pursue him in his footsteps, behind him, as if he were a god’ (Phaedrus 266b5-7) His was a long pursuit of truth, of being that truly is, of the Forms he gestured at, but could never quite see, the pursuit which dramatically began in his youth when he confronted Zeno and Parmenides with his immature theory of forms, in the Parmenides. This pursuit intensified and took a new form ever since Plato discovered the Forms thanks to the impact that the fixation of Socrates’ mind on the definitions of moral terms had on Plato’s mind: ‘I pursue him in his footsteps, behind him, as if he were a god’

The Theaetetus is dramatically dated as Socrates stops on his way to the King Archon to become officially notified of the charges raised against him by Meletus. So close to his end, Socrates remained steeped in his not-knowing: ‘Well now, the point I have difficulty with, and can’t find an adequate grasp of in myself, is just this (Tout’ auto toinun estin ho aporȏ kai ou dunamai labein hikanȏs par’ emautȏi): what, exactly, knowledge really is (epistȇmȇ hoti pote tunchanei on, Theaetetus 145e8-9, tr. John McDowell).

The Sophist, dramatically dated a day after the Theaetetus, fixed the portrait of the not-knowing Socrates in the definition of ‘the Sophistry of noble lineage’ (hȇ genei gennaia sophistikȇ, 231b7-8).