"If the Object be like the Idea, the Idea must be like the Object. And since the Object and the Idea are like, they must, according to your doctrine, participate in the Idea of Likeness. And thus you have one Idea participating in another Idea, and so on in infinitum." Socrates is obliged to allow that this demolishes the notion of objects partaking in their Ideas by likeness: and that he must seek some other way. "You see then, O Socrates," says Parmenides, "what difficulties follow, if any one asserts the independent existence of Ideas!" Socrates allows that this is true. "And yet," says Parmenides, "you do not half perceive the difficulties which follow from this doctrine of Ideas." Socrates expresses a wish to know to what Parmenides refers; and the aged sage replies by explaining that if Ideas exist independently of us, we can never know anything about them: and that even the Gods could not know anything about man. This argument, though somewhat obscure, is evidently stated with perfect earnestness, and Socrates is represented as giving his assent to it. "And yet," says Parmenides (end of § 18), "if any one gives up entirely the doctrine of Ideas, how is any reasoning possible?"

All the way through this discussion, Parmenides appears as vastly superior to Socrates; as seeing completely the tendency of every line of reasoning, while Socrates is driven blindly from one position to another; and as kindly and graciously advising a young man respecting the proper aims of his philosophical career; as well as clearly pointing out the consequences of his assumptions. Nothing can be more complete than the higher position assigned to Parmenides in the Dialogue.

This has not been overlooked by the Editors and Commentators of Plato. To take for example one of the latest; in Steinhart's Introduction to Hieronymus Müller's translation of Parmenides (Leipzig, 1852), p. 261, he says: "It strikes us, at first, as strange, that Plato here seems to come forward as the assailant of his own doctrine of Ideas. For the difficulties which he makes Parmenides propound against that doctrine are by no means sophistical or superficial, but substantial and to the point. Moreover there is among all these objections, which are partly derived from the Megarics, scarce one which does not appear again in the penetrating and comprehensive argumentations of Aristotle against the Platonic Doctrine of Ideas."

Of course, both this writer and other commentators on Plato offer something as a solution of this difficulty. But though these explanations are subtle and ingenious, they appear to leave no satisfactory or permanent impression on the mind. I must avow that, to me, they appear insufficient and empty; and I cannot help believing that the solution is of a more simple and direct kind. It may seem bold to maintain an opinion different from that of so many eminent scholars; but I think that the solution which I offer, will derive confirmation from a consideration of the whole Dialogue; and therefore I shall venture to propound it in a distinct and positive form. It is this:

I conceive that the Parmenides is not a Platonic Dialogue at all; but Antiplatonic, or more properly, Eleatic: written, not by Plato, in order to explain and prove his Theory of Ideas, but by some one, probably an admirer of Parmenides and Zeno, in order to show how strong were his master's arguments against the Platonists and how weak their objections to the Eleatic doctrine.

I conceive that this view throws an especial light on every part of the Dialogue, as a brief survey of it will show. Parmenides and Zeno come to Athens to the Panathenaic festival: Parmenides already an old man, with a silver head, dignified and benevolent in his appearance, looking five and sixty years old: Zeno about forty, tall and handsome. They are the guests of Pythodorus, outside the Wall, in the Ceramicus; and there they are visited by Socrates then young, and others who wish to hear the written discourses of Zeno. These discourses are explanations of the philosophy of Parmenides, which he had delivered in verse.

Socrates is represented as showing, from the first, a disposition to criticize Zeno's dissertation very closely; and without any prelude or preparation, he applies the Doctrine of Ideas to refute the Eleatic Doctrine that All Things are One. (§ 3.) When he had heard to the end, he begged to have the first Proposition of the First Book read again. And then, "How is it, O Zeno, that you say, That if the Things which exist are Many, and not One, they must be at the same time like and unlike? Is this your argument? Or do I misunderstand you?" "No," says Zeno, "you understand quite rightly." Socrates then turns to Parmenides, and says, somewhat rudely, as it seems, "Zeno is a great friend of yours, Parmenides: he shows his friendship not only in other ways, but also in what he writes. For he says the same things which you say, though he pretends that he does not. You say, in your poems, that All Things are One, and give striking proofs: he says that existences are not many, and he gives many and good proofs. You seem to soar above us, but you do not really differ." Zeno takes this sally good-humouredly, and tells him that he pursues the scent with the keenness of a Laconian hound. "But," says he (§ 6), "there really is less of ostentation in my writing than you think. My Essay was merely written as a defence of Parmenides long ago, when I was young; and is not a piece of display composed now that I am older. And it was stolen from me by some one; so that I had no choice about publishing it."

Here we have, as I conceive, Socrates already represented as placed in a disadvantageous position, by his abruptness, rude allusions, and readiness to put bad interpretations on what is done. For this, Zeno's gentle pleasantry is a rebuke. Socrates, however, forthwith rushes into the argument; arguing, as I have said, for his own Theory.

"Tell me," he says, "do you not think there is an Idea of Likeness, and an Idea of Unlikeness? And that everything partakes of these Ideas? The things which partake of Unlikeness are unlike. If all things partake of both Ideas, they are both like and unlike; and where is the wonder? (§ 7.) If you could show that Likeness itself was Unlikeness, it would be a prodigy; but if things which partake of these opposites, have both the opposite qualities, it appears to me, Zeno, to involve no absurdity.

"So if Oneness itself were to be shown to be Maniness" (I hope I may use this word, rather than multiplicity) "I should be surprised; but if any one say that I am at the same time one and many, where is the wonder? For I partake of maniness: my right side is different from my left side, my upper from my under parts. But I also partake of Oneness, for I am here One of us seven. So that both are true. And so if any one say that stocks and stones, and the like, are both one and many,—not saying that Oneness is Maniness, nor Maniness Oneness, he says nothing wonderful: he says what all will allow. (§ 8.) If then, as I said before, any one should take separately the Ideas or Essence of Things, as Likeness and Unlikeness, Maniness and Oneness, Rest and Motion, and the like, and then should show that these can mix and separate again, I should be wonderfully surprised, O Zeno: for I reckon that I have tolerably well made myself master of these subjects[323]. I should be much more surprised if any one could show me this contradiction involved in the Ideas themselves; in the object of the Reason, as well as in Visible objects."