mocritus, _Diog. Laert_., ix., 72). Two men often engage in a warm
dispute, and then return to their homes each of the other's opinion,
which he has exchanged for his own. It is easy to say that in every
dispute we should have no other aim than the advancement of truth; but
before dispute no one knows where it is, and through his opponent's
arguments and his own a man is misled.]

We must always keep the subject of one branch of knowledge quite
distinct from that of any other. To form a clear idea of the province
of Dialectic, we must pay no attention to objective truth, which is an
affair of Logic; we must regard it simply as _the art of getting the
best of it in a dispute_, which, as we have seen, is all the easier if
we are actually in the right. In itself Dialectic has nothing to do
but to show how a man may defend himself against attacks of every
kind, and especially against dishonest attacks; and, in the
same fashion, how he may attack another man's statement without
contradicting himself, or generally without being defeated. The
discovery of objective truth must be separated from the art of winning
acceptance for propositions; for objective truth is an entirely
different matter: it is the business of sound judgment, reflection and
experience, for which there is no special art.

Such, then, is the aim of Dialectic. It has been defined as the Logic
of appearance; but the definition is a wrong one, as in that case it
could only be used to repel false propositions. But even when a man
has the right on his side, he needs Dialectic in order to defend and
maintain it; he must know what the dishonest tricks are, in order to
meet them; nay, he must often make use of them himself, so as to beat
the enemy with his own weapons.

Accordingly, in a dialectical contest we must put objective truth
aside, or, rather, we must regard it as an accidental circumstance,
and look only to the defence of our own position and the refutation of
our opponent's.

In following out the rules to this end, no respect should be paid to
objective truth, because we usually do not know where the truth lies.
As I have said, a man often does not himself know whether he is in the
right or not; he often believes it, and is mistaken: both sides often
believe it. Truth is in the depths. At the beginning of a contest each
man believes, as a rule, that right is on his side; in the course of
it, both become doubtful, and the truth is not determined or co