the mind, and argue only out of the superfluity of their wits, would
have had a regular sparring-match over this, and would -have knocked
their arguments together finely. But you and I, who have no
professional aims, only desire to see what is the mutual relation of
these principles-whether they are consistent with each or not.

  Theaet. Yes, that would be my desire.

  Soc. And mine too. But since this is our feeling, and there is
plenty of time, why should we not calmly and patiently review our
own thoughts, and thoroughly examine and see what these appearances in
us really are? If I am not mistaken, they will be described by us as
follows:-first, that nothing can become greater or less, either in
number or magnitude, while remaining equal to itself-you would agree?

  Theaet. Yes.

  Soc. Secondly, that without addition or subtraction there is no
increase or diminution of anything, but only equality.

  Theaet. Quite true.

  Soc. Thirdly, that what was not before cannot be afterwards, without
becoming and having become.

  Theaet. Yes, truly.

  Soc. These three axioms, if I am not mistaken, are fighting with one
another in our minds in the case of the dice, or, again, in such a
case as this-if I were to say that I, who am of a certain height and
taller than you, may within a year, without gaining or losing in
height, be not so tall-not that I should have lost, but that you would
have increased. In such a case, I am afterwards what I once was not,
and yet I have not become; for I could not have become without
becoming, neither could I have become less without losing somewhat
of my height; and I could give you ten thousand examples of similar
contradictions, if we admit them at all. I believe that you follow me,
Theaetetus; for I suspect that you have thought of these questions
before now.

  Theaet. Yes, Socrates, and I am amazed when I think of them; by
the Gods I am! and I want to know what on earth they mean; and there
are times when my head quite swims with the contemplation of them.

  Soc. I see, my dear Theaetetus, that Theodorus had a true insight
into your nature when he said that you were a philosopher, for
wonder is the feeling of a philosopher, and philosophy begins in
wonder. He was not a bad genealogist who said that Iris (the messenger
of heaven) is the child of Thaumas (wonder). But do you begin to see
what is the explanation of this perplexity on the hypothesis which