Plato, Parmenides

“No,” said Zeno, “you have grasped perfectly the general intent of the work.”

“I see, Parmenides,” said Socrates, “that Zeno here wishes to be very close to you not only in his friendship, but also in his writing. For he has written much the same thing as you, but by reversing the process he tries to cheat us into the belief that he is saying something new. For you, in your poems, say that the all is one, [128b] and you furnish proofs of this in fine and excellent fashion; and he, on the other hand, says it is not many, and he also furnishes very numerous and weighty proofs. That one of you says it is one, and the other that it is not many, and that each of you expresses himself so that although you say much the same you seem not to have said the same things at all, appears to the rest of us a feat of expression quite beyond our power.”

“Yes, Socrates,” said Zeno, “but you have not perceived all aspects of the truth about my writings. You follow the arguments with a scent [128c] as keen as a Laconian hound's, but you do not observe that my treatise is not by any means so pretentious that it could have been written with the intention you ascribe to it, of disguising itself as a great performance in the eyes of men. What you mentioned is a mere accident, but in truth these writings are meant to support the argument of Parmenides against those who attempt to jeer at him and assert that [128d] if the all is one many absurd results follow which contradict his theory. Now this treatise opposes the advocates of the many and gives them back their ridicule with interest, for its purpose is to show that their hypothesis that existences are many, if properly followed up, leads to still more absurd results than the hypothesis that they are one. It was in such a spirit of controversy that I wrote it when I was young, [128e] and when it was written some one stole it, so that I could not even consider whether it should be published or not. So, Socrates, you are not aware of this and you think that the cause of its composition was not the controversial spirit of a young man, but the ambition of an old one. In other respects, as I said, you guessed its meaning pretty well.”

“I see,” said Socrates, “and I accept your explanation. But tell me, do you not believe there is an idea of likeness in the abstract,