omething different from fire, and cold something different
from snow?"

"Yes."

"But this, I think, is apparent to you--that snow, while it is snow, can
never, when it has admitted heat, as we said before, continue to be what
it was, snow and hot; but, on the approach of heat, it must either
withdraw or perish?"

"Certainly."

"And, again, that fire, when cold approaches it, must either depart or
perish; but that it will never endure, when it has admitted coldness, to
continue what it was, fire and cold?"

121. "You speak truly," he said.

"It happens, then," he continued, "with respect to some of such things,
that not only is the idea itself always thought worthy of the same
appellation, but likewise something else which is not, indeed, that idea
itself, but constantly retains its form so long as it exists. What I
mean will perhaps be clearer in the following examples: the odd in
number must always possess the name by which we now call it, must it
not?"

"Certainly."

"Must it alone, of all things--for this I ask--or is there any thing
else which is not the same as the odd, but yet which we must always call
odd, together with its own name, because it is so constituted by nature
that it can never be without the odd? But this, I say, is the case with
the number three, and many others. For consider with respect to the
number three: does it not appear to you that it must always be called by
its own name, as well as by that of the odd, which is not the same as
the number three? Yet such is the nature of the number three, five, and
the entire half of number, that though they are not the same as the odd,
yet each of them is always odd. And, again, two and four, and the whole
other series of number, though not the same as the even, are
nevertheless each of them always even: do you admit this, or not?"

122. "How should I not?" he replied.

"Observe then," said he, "what I wish to prove. It is this--that it
appears not only that these contraries do not admit each other, but that
even such things as are not contrary to each other, and yet always
possess contraries, do not appear to admit that idea which is contrary
to the idea that exists in themselves, but, when it approaches, perish
or depart. Shall we not allow that the number three would first perish,
and suffer any thing whatever, rather than endure, while it is still
three, to become even?"

"Most certainly," said Cebes.

"And yet," said he, "the number tw