S. "Of facts as they are, or as they are not?" P. "As they are." S. "And he who discovers facts as they are, discovers truth; while he who discovers facts as they are not, discovers falsehood?" P. "He discovers nothing, Socrates." S. "True; but it has been agreed already that the spirit of truth is indifferent to the question whether facts be true or false, but only concerns itself with the sincere affirmation of them, whatsoever they may be. Much more then must it be indifferent to those processes by which they are discovered." P. "How so?" S. "Because it only concerns itself with affirmation concerning facts; but these processes are anterior to that affirmation." P. "I comprehend." S. "And much more is it indifferent to whether those are right processes or not." P. "Much more so." S. "It is therefore not intellectual. It remains, therefore, that it must be some merely physical faculty, like that of fearing, hungering, or enjoying the sexual appetite." A. "Absurd, Socrates!" S. "That is the argument's concern, not ours: let us follow manfully whithersoever it may lead us." A. "Lead on, thou sophist!" S. "It was agreed, then, that he who does what he thinks right, does so by the spirit of truth-was it not?" A. "It was." S. "Then he who eats when he thinks that he ought to eat, does so by the spirit of truth?" A. "What next?" S. "This next, that he who blows his nose when he thinks that it wants blowing, blows his nose by the spirit of truth." A. "What next?" S. "Do not frown, friend. Believe me, in such days as these, I honour even the man who is honest enough to blow his nose because he finds that he ought to do so. But tell me-a horse, when he shies at a beggar, does not he also do so by the spirit of truth? For he believes sincerely the beggar to be something formidable, and honestly acts upon his conviction." "Not a doubt of it," said I, laughing, in spite of myself, at Alcibiades's countenance. S. "It is in danger, then, of proving to be something quite brutish and doggish, this spirit of truth. I should not wonder, therefore, if we found it proper to be restrained." A. "How so, thou hair-splitter?" S. "Have we not proved it to be common to man and animals; but are not those passions which we have in common with animals to be restrained?" P. "Restrain the spirit of truth, Socrates?" S. "If it be doggishly inclined. As, for instance, if a man knew that his father had committed a shameful act, and were to publish it, he would do so by the spirit of truth. Yet such an act would be blackguardly, and to be restrained." P. "Of course." S. "But much more, if he accused his father only on his own private suspicion, not having seen him commit the act; while many others, who had watched his father's character more than he did, assured him that he was mistaken." P. "Such an act would be to be restrained, not merely as blackguardly, but as impious."