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Thoughts of Plato, in the Theaetetus.
“The beauty of his disposition.” The ancients paid great attention to this quality. By these ancients I mean the Greeks, the Athenians; for the Latins spoke little of it.
“Penetration of mind, gentleness, courage.” This was what made a man perfect in the eyes of Plato’s Socrates. The gentleness that makes a man peaceful in the city and agreeable to its citizens, the courage that makes him steadfast in misfortunes, moderate even in pleasures, and formidable to enemies, the penetration of mind that makes him delightful to his friends in conversation and perfect in his own life by always making him perceive and do what is best. This above all was the happiness of private life according to Plato: to converse and to know. He inclined to believe that the virtues are sciences. — Elsewhere he praises vivacity united with docility as the most beautiful of dispositions in a young man. — Vivacity comes from nature. One scarcely acquires it; but docility is learned through the fold that can give suppleness to what has none. Vivacity uses little time and consumes little of it. It leaves it to slowness, which can, if it knows how to use it well, do everything with great stretches of it.
He says: “When one does not know a thing’s nature, does one know what its name means?” The name then shows only its appearance. Names well understood, well penetrated, would contain all the sciences. The science of names! we have scarcely more than the art of them, and even of that art we have little, because we have too little of their science. When one understands a word perfectly, it becomes as though transparent; one sees its color, its form; one feels its weight; one perceives its dimension, and one knows where to place it. — Of understanding words. It would teach the whole art of style. To know their meaning, force, and propriety well, one must often have known their history. The science of words would teach the whole art of style. That is why, when a language has had several ages, as ours has, old books are good to read. One must go back to its sources and contemplate it in its course. To write French well, one must understand the French of old.
Of lines that are powers. — There are some in our hands, like the lever. There are some in the mind as well. There are some in rhetoric and poetics as in mathematics. There are some even in the operations of the mind alone with itself. Often it gives itself a useless idea, permits itself that idea, and handles it to bring forth another. In writings and the arts, there are also colors and phrases that are there only to make others better perceived. These lines, these colors, these phrases are nothing alone, but they become powers through their effect; and their effect comes not from their nature and their own value, but from their place and application. Their neighborhood makes their worth, their isolation their nothingness.
“The oblong number,” he says. I do not understand this word, but it seems beautiful to me.
“The pains of childbirth” (of the mind) and of its joys.
“God (said Socrates) makes it my duty to help others give birth, and at the same time prevents me from producing anything from my own resources. Hence I am so little versed in wisdom and can boast of no learned discovery that is a production of my soul.” He thereby completed his comparison of himself to the midwives who, in Athens, undertook their trade only when they had passed the age and lost the ability to conceive. Only women whom past fertility had instructed were allowed to practice midwifery.
Observe, on the phrase “whether the virtues are sciences,” that Plato is not precisely of this opinion; but he loves this expression, delights in this thought; this union of ideas smiles at him.
“Several (he makes Socrates say), when I took some extravagant opinion from them, grew angry... as first-time mothers do over their children.” These are indeed the angers of a mind that has never produced anything of itself, that does not feel within itself a real fertility full of its own fruit. The phantoms of production that have entered it and emerge from it, the surfaix it brings into broad [daylight], charm it; it believes them its own and takes them for its true children.
“Appearance and sensation are therefore the same thing in relation...” Here again is a union of words that gives pleasure, and an appearance of truth that pleases as general, although one is not sure and does not understand well in the case where it is applied.