Plato’s dialogues. Part II: On the soul

Plato Plato’s Academy

Contents

1. Symposium 2 1.1. Prologue 3 1.2. The Speech of Phaedrus 4 1.3. The Speech of Pausanias 5 1.4. The Speech of Eryximachus 7 1.5. The Speech of Aristophanes 8 1.6. Socrates and Agathon 10 1.7. The Speech of Agathon 10 1.8. Socrates 11 1.8.1. The Nature and Origin of Love 13 1.8.2. The Cause and Effect of Love 14 1.8.3. The Ascent Passage 15 1.9. Alcibiades 16 1.9.1. The Entry of Alcibiades 16 1.9.2. The Speech of Alcibiades 17 1.10. Conclusion 20

2. Phaedrus 20 2.1. The Speech of Lysias 22 2.2. The First Interlude 23 2.3. The First Speech of Socrates 24 2.4. The Second Interlude. The Palinode 26 2.5. The Second Speech of Socrates 27 2.6. The Myth of the Cicadas 31 2.7. Knowledge and the True Art of Rhetoric 32 2.8. Collection and Division, or Dialectic 35 2.9. Rhetoric, the False Art and the True 35 2.10. Speech and Writing 38 2.11. Conclusion 39

3. The Republic 40 3.1. Some Current Views of Justice 41 3.1.1. Cephalus. Justice as Honesty in Word and Deed 41 3.1.2. Polemarchus. Justice as Helping Friends and Harming Enemies 42 3.1.3. Thrasymachus. Justice as the Interest of the Stronger 44 3.1.4. Thrasymachus. Is Injustice More Profitable than Justice? 49 3.2. Justice in the State and in the Individual 52 3.2.1. The Problem Stated 52 3.2.2. The Rudiments of Social Organization 56 3.2.3. The Luxurious State 58 3.2.4. The Guardian’s Temperament 59 3.2.5. Primary Education of the Guardians 60 3.2.6. Selection of Rulers: The Guardian’s Manner of Living 74 3.2.7. The Virtues in the State 77 3.2.8. The Three Parts of the Soul 80 3.2.9. The Virtues in the Individual 83 3.3. The Position of Women and the Usages of War 85 3.3.1. The Equality of Women 85 3.3.2. Abolition of the Family for the Guardians 88 3.3.3. Usages of War 93 3.4. The Philosopher King 95 3.4.1. The Paradox: Philosophers Must Be Kings 95 3.4.2. Definition of the Philosopher. The Two Worlds 96 3.4.3. The Philosopher’s Fitness to Rule 98 3.4.4. Why the Philosophic Nature Is Useless or Corrupted in Existing Society 100 3.4.5. A Philosophic Ruler Is Not an Impossibility 104 3.4.6. The Good as the Highest Object of Knowledge 106 2

3.4.7. Four Stages of Cognition. The Line 109 3.4.8. The Allegory of the Cave 110 3.4.9. Higher Education 112 3.4.10. Dialectic 117 3.4.11. Programme of Study 118 3.5. The Decline of Society and of the Soul. 120 3.5.1. The Fall of the Ideal State. Timocracy and the Timocratic Man 120 3.5.2. Oligarchy (Plutocracy) and the Oligarchic Man 123 3.5.3. Democracy and the Democratic Man 125 3.5.4. Despotism and the Despotic Man 128 3.5.5. The Just and Unjust Lives Compared in Respect of Happiness 133 3.5.6. Justice, Not Injustice, Is Profitable 139 3.6. The Quarrel Between Philosophy and Poetry 140 3.6.1. How Representation in Art Is Related to Truth 140 3.6.2. Dramatic Poetry Appeals to the Emotions, Not to the Reason 144 3.6.3. The Effect of Dramatic Poetry on Character 145 3.7. Immortality and the Rewards of Justice 146 3.7.1. A Proof of Immortality 146 3.7.2. The Rewards of Justice in this Life 148 3.7.3. The Rewards of Justice after Death. The Myth of Er 148

4. Phaedo 151 4.1. Prologue 151 4.2. Death and the Philosopher 152 4.3. The Cycle of Opposites Argument 156 4.4. The Recollection Argument 157 4.5. The Affinity Argument 159 4.6. The Doctrines Concerning Body and Soul 161 4.7. Simmias’ Objection Ð The Harmony and Lyre 162 4.8. Cebes’ Objection Ð The Man and Cloak 163 4.9. Interlude. The Warning Against Misology 164 4.10. Socrates’ Reply to Simmias 165 4.11. Socrates’ Reply to Cebes: The Causes of Generation and Destruction 166 4.12. Socrates’ Reply to Cebes: Socrates’ Theory of Causation. Forms as Causes 168 4.13. Socrates’ Reply to Cebes: The Soul in Particular 170 4.14. The Myth of the Afterlife 171 4.15. The Death Scene 174

1. SYMPOSIUM Your informant, Glaucon, I said, must have been very in- distinct indeed, if you imagine that the occasion was recent; PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: Apollodorus, who repeats or that I could have been of the party. to his companion the dialogue which he had heard from Aris- Why, yes, he replied, I thought so. todemus, and had already once narrated to Glaucon. Phaedrus, Impossible: I said. Are you ignorant that for many years Pausanias, Eryximachus, Aristophanes, Agathon, Socrates, Agathon has not resided at Athens; and not three have elapsed Alcibiades, A Troop of Revellers. since I became acquainted with Socrates, and have made it my SCENE: The House of Agathon. daily business to know all that he says and does. There was a APOLLODORUS: Concerning the things about which you time when I was running about the world, fancying myself to ask to be informed I believe that I am not ill-prepared with be well employed, but I was really a most wretched being, no an answer. For the day before yesterday I was coming from better than you are now. I thought that I ought to do anything my own home at Phalerum to the city, and one of my acquain- rather than be a philosopher. tance, who had caught a sight of me from behind, calling out Well, he said, jesting apart, tell me when the meeting oc- playfully in the distance, said: Apollodorus, O thou Phale- curred. rian (Probably a play of words on (Greek), ’bald-headed.’) In our boyhood, I replied, when Agathon won the prize with man, halt! So I did as I was bid; and then he said, I was his first tragedy, on the day after that on which he and his looking for you, Apollodorus, only just now, that I might ask chorus offered the sacrifice of victory. you about the speeches in praise of love, which were deliv- Then it must have been a long while ago, he said; and who ered by Socrates, Alcibiades, and others, at Agathon’s supper. told youÐdid Socrates? Phoenix, the son of Philip, told another person who told me No indeed, I replied, but the same person who told of them; his narrative was very indistinct, but he said that you Phoenix;Ðhe was a little fellow, who never wore any shoes, knew, and I wish that you would give me an account of them. Aristodemus, of the deme of Cydathenaeum. He had been at Who, if not you, should be the reporter of the words of your Agathon’s feast; and I think that in those days there was no friend? And first tell me, he said, were you present at this one who was a more devoted admirer of Socrates. Moreover, meeting? I have asked Socrates about the truth of some parts of his nar- 3 rative, and he confirmed them. Then, said Glaucon, let us have I rather fear, Socrates, said Aristodemus, lest this may still the tale over again; is not the road to Athens just made for con- be my case; and that, like Menelaus in Homer, I shall be the versation? And so we walked, and talked of the discourses on inferior person, who love; and therefore, as I said at first, I am not ill-prepared to comply with your request, and will have another rehearsal of ’To the feasts of the wise unbidden goes.’ them if you like. For to speak or to hear others speak of phi- But I shall say that I was bidden of you, and then you will losophy always gives me the greatest pleasure, to say nothing have to make an excuse. of the profit. But when I hear another strain, especially that of you rich men and traders, such conversation displeases me; ’Two going together,’ and I pity you who are my companions, because you think he replied, in Homeric fashion, one or other of them may in- that you are doing something when in reality you are doing nothing. And I dare say that you pity me in return, whom vent an excuse by the way (Iliad). This was the style of their conversation as they went along. you regard as an unhappy creature, and very probably you are right. But I certainly know of you what you only think of Socrates dropped behind in a fit of abstraction, and desired Aristodemus, who was waiting, to go on before him. When he meÐthere is the difference. reached the house of Agathon he found the doors wide open, COMPANION: I see, Apollodorus, that you are just the and a comical thing happened. A servant coming out met sameÐalways speaking evil of yourself, and of others; and I do believe that you pity all mankind, with the exception of him, and led him at once into the banqueting-hall in which the guests were reclining, for the banquet was about to be- Socrates, yourself first of all, true in this to your old name, gin. Welcome, Aristodemus, said Agathon, as soon as he which, however deserved, I know not how you acquired, of Apollodorus the madman; for you are always raging against appearedÐyou are just in time to sup with us; if you come on any other matter put it off, and make one of us, as I was yourself and everybody but Socrates. looking for you yesterday and meant to have asked you, if I APOLLODORUS: Yes, friend, and the reason why I am said could have found you. But what have you done with Socrates? to be mad, and out of my wits, is just because I have these notions of myself and you; no other evidence is required. I turned round, but Socrates was nowhere to be seen; and I had to explain that he had been with me a moment before, and COMPANION: No more of that, Apollodorus; but let me renew my request that you would repeat the conversation. that I came by his invitation to the supper. You were quite right in coming, said Agathon; but where is APOLLODORUS: Well, the tale of love was on this wise:Ð But perhaps I had better begin at the beginning, and endeavour he himself? He was behind me just now, as I entered, he said, and I to give you the exact words of Aristodemus: cannot think what has become of him. Go and look for him, boy, said Agathon, and bring him 1.1. Prologue in; and do you, Aristodemus, meanwhile take the place by Eryximachus. He said that he met Socrates fresh from the bath and san- The servant then assisted him to wash, and he lay down, dalled; and as the sight of the sandals was unusual, he asked and presently another servant came in and reported that our him whither he was going that he had been converted into such friend Socrates had retired into the portico of the neighbouring a beau:Ð house. ’There he is fixed,’ said he, ’and when I call to him he To a banquet at Agathon’s, he replied, whose invitation to will not stir.’ his sacrifice of victory I refused yesterday, fearing a crowd, How strange, said Agathon; then you must call him again, but promising that I would come to-day instead; and so I have and keep calling him. put on my finery, because he is such a fine man. What say you Let him alone, said my informant; he has a way of stopping to going with me unasked? anywhere and losing himself without any reason. I believe I will do as you bid me, I replied. that he will soon appear; do not therefore disturb him. Follow then, he said, and let us demolish the proverb:Ð Well, if you think so, I will leave him, said Agathon. And then, turning to the servants, he added, ’Let us have supper ’To the feasts of inferior men the good unbid- without waiting for him. Serve up whatever you please, for den go;’ there is no one to give you orders; hitherto I have never left instead of which our proverb will run:Ð you to yourselves. But on this occasion imagine that you are our hosts, and that I and the company are your guests; treat ’To the feasts of the good the good unbidden us well, and then we shall commend you.’ After this, supper go;’ was served, but still no Socrates; and during the meal Agathon and this alteration may be supported by the authority of several times expressed a wish to send for him, but Aristode- Homer himself, who not only demolishes but literally outrages mus objected; and at last when the feast was about half overÐ the proverb. For, after picturing Agamemnon as the most for the fit, as usual, was not of long duration ÐSocrates en- valiant of men, he makes Menelaus, who is but a fainthearted tered. Agathon, who was reclining alone at the end of the warrior, come unbidden (Iliad) to the banquet of Agamem- table, begged that he would take the place next to him; that non, who is feasting and offering sacrifices, not the better to ’I may touch you,’ he said, ’and have the benefit of that wise the worse, but the worse to the better. thought which came into your mind in the portico, and is now 4 in your possession; for I am certain that you would not have I will begin, he said, after the manner of Melanippe in Eu- come away until you had found what you sought.’ ripides, How I wish, said Socrates, taking his place as he was de- ’Not mine the word’ sired, that wisdom could be infused by touch, out of the fuller into the emptier man, as water runs through wool out of a which I am about to speak, but that of Phaedrus. For often fuller cup into an emptier one; if that were so, how greatly he says to me in an indignant tone:–’What a strange thing it should I value the privilege of reclining at your side! For you is, Eryximachus, that, whereas other gods have poems and would have filled me full with a stream of wisdom plenteous hymns made in their honour, the great and glorious god, Love, and fair; whereas my own is of a very mean and question- has no encomiast among all the poets who are so many. There able sort, no better than a dream. But yours is bright and full are the worthy sophists tooÐthe excellent Prodicus for exam- of promise, and was manifested forth in all the splendour of ple, who have descanted in prose on the virtues of Heracles youth the day before yesterday, in the presence of more than and other heroes; and, what is still more extraordinary, I have thirty thousand Hellenes. met with a philosophical work in which the utility of salt has You are mocking, Socrates, said Agathon, and ere long been made the theme of an eloquent discourse; and many you and I will have to determine who bears off the palm of other like things have had a like honour bestowed upon them. wisdomÐof this Dionysus shall be the judge; but at present And only to think that there should have been an eager inter- you are better occupied with supper. est created about them, and yet that to this day no one has Socrates took his place on the couch, and supped with the ever dared worthily to hymn Love’s praises! So entirely has rest; and then libations were offered, and after a hymn had this great deity been neglected.’ Now in this Phaedrus seems been sung to the god, and there had been the usual ceremonies, to me to be quite right, and therefore I want to offer him a con- they were about to commence drinking, when Pausanias said, tribution; also I think that at the present moment we who are And now, my friends, how can we drink with least injury to here assembled cannot do better than honour the god Love. If ourselves? I can assure you that I feel severely the effect of you agree with me, there will be no lack of conversation; for yesterday’s potations, and must have time to recover; and I I mean to propose that each of us in turn, going from left to suspect that most of you are in the same predicament, for right, shall make a speech in honour of Love. Let him give us you were of the party yesterday. Consider then: How can the best which he can; and Phaedrus, because he is sitting first the drinking be made easiest? on the left hand, and because he is the father of the thought, I entirely agree, said Aristophanes, that we should, by all shall begin. means, avoid hard drinking, for I was myself one of those No one will vote against you, Eryximachus, said Socrates. who were yesterday drowned in drink. How can I oppose your motion, who profess to understand I think that you are right, said Eryximachus, the son of Acu- nothing but matters of love; nor, I presume, will Agathon and menus; but I should still like to hear one other person speak: Pausanias; and there can be no doubt of Aristophanes, whose Is Agathon able to drink hard? whole concern is with Dionysus and Aphrodite; nor will any one disagree of those whom I see around me. The proposal, I am not equal to it, said Agathon. as I am aware, may seem rather hard upon us whose place is Then, said Eryximachus, the weak heads like myself, Aris- last; but we shall be contented if we hear some good speeches todemus, Phaedrus, and others who never can drink, are for- first. Let Phaedrus begin the praise of Love, and good luck to tunate in finding that the stronger ones are not in a drinking him. All the company expressed their assent, and desired him mood. (I do not include Socrates, who is able either to drink to do as Socrates bade him. or to abstain, and will not mind, whichever we do.) Well, as Aristodemus did not recollect all that was said, nor do I of none of the company seem disposed to drink much, I may recollect all that he related to me; but I will tell you what be forgiven for saying, as a physician, that drinking deep is a I thought most worthy of remembrance, and what the chief bad practice, which I never follow, if I can help, and certainly speakers said. do not recommend to another, least of all to any one who still feels the effects of yesterday’s carouse. I always do what you advise, and especially what you pre- 1.2. The Speech of Phaedrus scribe as a physician, rejoined Phaedrus the Myrrhinusian, and the rest of the company, if they are wise, will do the same. Phaedrus began by affirming that Love is a mighty god, and It was agreed that drinking was not to be the order of the wonderful among gods and men, but especially wonderful in day, but that they were all to drink only so much as they his birth. For he is the eldest of the gods, which is an honour pleased. to him; and a proof of his claim to this honour is, that of his Then, said Eryximachus, as you are all agreed that drinking parents there is no memorial; neither poet nor prose-writer has is to be voluntary, and that there is to be no compulsion, I ever affirmed that he had any. As Hesiod says:Ð move, in the next place, that the flute-girl, who has just made her appearance, be told to go away and play to herself, or, if ’First Chaos came, and then broad-bosomed Earth, The everlasting seat of all that is, And she likes, to the women who are within (compare Prot.). To- day let us have conversation instead; and, if you will allow Love.’ me, I will tell you what sort of conversation. This proposal In other words, after Chaos, the Earth and Love, these two, having been accepted, Eryximachus proceeded as follows:Ð came into being. Also Parmenides sings of Generation: 5

’First in the train of gods, he fashioned Love.’ forms us, he was still beardless, and younger far). And greatly as the gods honour the virtue of love, still the return of love And Acusilaus agrees with Hesiod. Thus numerous are the on the part of the beloved to the lover is more admired and witnesses who acknowledge Love to be the eldest of the gods. valued and rewarded by them, for the lover is more divine; be- And not only is he the eldest, he is also the source of the cause he is inspired by God. Now Achilles was quite aware, greatest benefits to us. For I know not any greater blessing for he had been told by his mother, that he might avoid death to a young man who is beginning life than a virtuous lover, and return home, and live to a good old age, if he abstained or to the lover than a beloved youth. For the principle which from slaying Hector. Nevertheless he gave his life to revenge ought to be the guide of men who would nobly liveÐthat prin- his friend, and dared to die, not only in his defence, but after ciple, I say, neither kindred, nor honour, nor wealth, nor any he was dead. Wherefore the gods honoured him even above other motive is able to implant so well as love. Of what am Alcestis, and sent him to the Islands of the Blest. These are I speaking? Of the sense of honour and dishonour, without my reasons for affirming that Love is the eldest and noblest which neither states nor individuals ever do any good or great and mightiest of the gods; and the chiefest author and giver of work. And I say that a lover who is detected in doing any virtue in life, and of happiness after death. dishonourable act, or submitting through cowardice when any dishonour is done to him by another, will be more pained at being detected by his beloved than at being seen by his fa- ther, or by his companions, or by any one else. The beloved 1.3. The Speech of Pausanias too, when he is found in any disgraceful situation, has the same feeling about his lover. And if there were only some This, or something like this, was the speech of Phaedrus; way of contriving that a state or an army should be made up and some other speeches followed which Aristodemus did not of lovers and their loves (compare Rep.), they would be the remember; the next which he repeated was that of Pausanias. very best governors of their own city, abstaining from all dis- Phaedrus, he said, the argument has not been set before us, I honour, and emulating one another in honour; and when fight- think, quite in the right form;Ðwe should not be called upon ing at each other’s side, although a mere handful, they would to praise Love in such an indiscriminate manner. If there were overcome the world. For what lover would not choose rather only one Love, then what you said would be well enough; but to be seen by all mankind than by his beloved, either when since there are more Loves than one,Ðshould have begun by abandoning his post or throwing away his arms? He would be determining which of them was to be the theme of our praises. ready to die a thousand deaths rather than endure this. Or who I will amend this defect; and first of all I will tell you which would desert his beloved or fail him in the hour of danger? Love is deserving of praise, and then try to hymn the praise- The veriest coward would become an inspired hero, equal to worthy one in a manner worthy of him. For we all know that the bravest, at such a time; Love would inspire him. That Love is inseparable from Aphrodite, and if there were only courage which, as Homer says, the god breathes into the souls one Aphrodite there would be only one Love; but as there of some heroes, Love of his own nature infuses into the lover. are two goddesses there must be two Loves. And am I not Love will make men dare to die for their belovedÐlove right in asserting that there are two goddesses? The elder one, alone; and women as well as men. Of this, Alcestis, the having no mother, who is called the heavenly AphroditeÐshe daughter of Pelias, is a monument to all Hellas; for she was is the daughter of Uranus; the younger, who is the daughter willing to lay down her life on behalf of her husband, when no of Zeus and Dione Ðher we call common; and the Love who one else would, although he had a father and mother; but the is her fellow-worker is rightly named common, as the other tenderness of her love so far exceeded theirs, that she made love is called heavenly. All the gods ought to have praise them seem to be strangers in blood to their own son, and in given to them, but not without distinction of their natures; and name only related to him; and so noble did this action of hers therefore I must try to distinguish the characters of the two appear to the gods, as well as to men, that among the many Loves. Now actions vary according to the manner of their per- who have done virtuously she is one of the very few to whom, formance. Take, for example, that which we are now doing, in admiration of her noble action, they have granted the privi- drinking, singing and talkingÐthese actions are not in them- lege of returning alive to earth; such exceeding honour is paid selves either good or evil, but they turn out in this or that way by the gods to the devotion and virtue of love. But Orpheus, according to the mode of performing them; and when well the son of Oeagrus, the harper, they sent empty away, and pre- done they are good, and when wrongly done they are evil; and sented to him an apparition only of her whom he sought, but in like manner not every love, but only that which has a noble herself they would not give up, because he showed no spirit; purpose, is noble and worthy of praise. The Love who is the he was only a harp-player, and did not dare like Alcestis to die offspring of the common Aphrodite is essentially common, for love, but was contriving how he might enter Hades alive; and has no discrimination, being such as the meaner sort of moreover, they afterwards caused him to suffer death at the men feel, and is apt to be of women as well as of youths, and hands of women, as the punishment of his cowardliness. Very is of the body rather than of the soulÐthe most foolish beings different was the reward of the true love of Achilles towards are the objects of this love which desires only to gain an end, his lover PatroclusÐhis lover and not his love (the notion that but never thinks of accomplishing the end nobly, and therefore Patroclus was the beloved one is a foolish error into which does good and evil quite indiscriminately. The goddess who Aeschylus has fallen, for Achilles was surely the fairer of the is his mother is far younger than the other, and she was born two, fairer also than all the other heroes; and, as Homer in- of the union of the male and female, and partakes of both. 6

But the offspring of the heavenly Aphrodite is derived from a if he fail he is blamed. And in the pursuit of his love the cus- mother in whose birth the female has no part,Ðshe is from the tom of mankind allows him to do many strange things, which male only; this is that love which is of youths, and the god- philosophy would bitterly censure if they were done from any dess being older, there is nothing of wantonness in her. Those motive of interest, or wish for office or power. He may pray, who are inspired by this love turn to the male, and delight in and entreat, and supplicate, and swear, and lie on a mat at the him who is the more valiant and intelligent nature; any one door, and endure a slavery worse than that of any slaveÐin any may recognise the pure enthusiasts in the very character of other case friends and enemies would be equally ready to pre- their attachments. For they love not boys, but intelligent be- vent him, but now there is no friend who will be ashamed of ings whose reason is beginning to be developed, much about him and admonish him, and no enemy will charge him with the time at which their beards begin to grow. And in choosing meanness or flattery; the actions of a lover have a grace which young men to be their companions, they mean to be faith- ennobles them; and custom has decided that they are highly ful to them, and pass their whole life in company with them, commendable and that there no loss of character in them; and, not to take them in their inexperience, and deceive them, and what is strangest of all, he only may swear and forswear him- play the fool with them, or run away from one to another of self (so men say), and the gods will forgive his transgression, them. But the love of young boys should be forbidden by law, for there is no such thing as a lover’s oath. Such is the entire because their future is uncertain; they may turn out good or liberty which gods and men have allowed the lover, according bad, either in body or soul, and much noble enthusiasm may to the custom which prevails in our part of the world. From be thrown away upon them; in this matter the good are a law this point of view a man fairly argues that in Athens to love to themselves, and the coarser sort of lovers ought to be re- and to be loved is held to be a very honourable thing. But strained by force; as we restrain or attempt to restrain them when parents forbid their sons to talk with their lovers, and from fixing their affections on women of free birth. These place them under a tutor’s care, who is appointed to see to are the persons who bring a reproach on love; and some have these things, and their companions and equals cast in their been led to deny the lawfulness of such attachments because teeth anything of the sort which they may observe, and their they see the impropriety and evil of them; for surely nothing elders refuse to silence the reprovers and do not rebuke themÐ that is decorously and lawfully done can justly be censured. any one who reflects on all this will, on the contrary, think Now here and in Lacedaemon the rules about love are per- that we hold these practices to be most disgraceful. But, as I plexing, but in most cities they are simple and easily intelli- was saying at first, the truth as I imagine is, that whether such gible; in Elis and Boeotia, and in countries having no gifts practices are honourable or whether they are dishonourable is of eloquence, they are very straightforward; the law is simply not a simple question; they are honourable to him who follows in favour of these connexions, and no one, whether young or them honourably, dishonourable to him who follows them dis- old, has anything to say to their discredit; the reason being, honourably. There is dishonour in yielding to the evil, or in an as I suppose, that they are men of few words in those parts, evil manner; but there is honour in yielding to the good, or in and therefore the lovers do not like the trouble of pleading an honourable manner. Evil is the vulgar lover who loves the their suit. In Ionia and other places, and generally in countries body rather than the soul, inasmuch as he is not even stable, which are subject to the barbarians, the custom is held to be because he loves a thing which is in itself unstable, and there- dishonourable; loves of youths share the evil repute in which fore when the bloom of youth which he was desiring is over, philosophy and gymnastics are held, because they are inimical he takes wing and flies away, in spite of all his words and to tyranny; for the interests of rulers require that their subjects promises; whereas the love of the noble disposition is life- should be poor in spirit (compare Arist. Politics), and that long, for it becomes one with the everlasting. The custom of there should be no strong bond of friendship or society among our country would have both of them proven well and truly, them, which love, above all other motives, is likely to inspire, and would have us yield to the one sort of lover and avoid the as our Athenian tyrants learned by experience; for the love of other, and therefore encourages some to pursue, and others to Aristogeiton and the constancy of Harmodius had a strength fly; testing both the lover and beloved in contests and trials, which undid their power. And, therefore, the ill-repute into until they show to which of the two classes they respectively which these attachments have fallen is to be ascribed to the belong. And this is the reason why, in the first place, a hasty evil condition of those who make them to be ill-reputed; that attachment is held to be dishonourable, because time is the is to say, to the self- seeking of the governors and the cow- true test of this as of most other things; and secondly there ardice of the governed; on the other hand, the indiscriminate is a dishonour in being overcome by the love of money, or honour which is given to them in some countries is attributable of wealth, or of political power, whether a man is frightened to the laziness of those who hold this opinion of them. In our into surrender by the loss of them, or, having experienced the own country a far better principle prevails, but, as I was say- benefits of money and political corruption, is unable to rise ing, the explanation of it is rather perplexing. For, observe that above the seductions of them. For none of these things are of open loves are held to be more honourable than secret ones, a permanent or lasting nature; not to mention that no generous and that the love of the noblest and highest, even if their per- friendship ever sprang from them. There remains, then, only sons are less beautiful than others, is especially honourable. one way of honourable attachment which custom allows in the Consider, too, how great is the encouragement which all the beloved, and this is the way of virtue; for as we admitted that world gives to the lover; neither is he supposed to be doing any service which the lover does to him is not to be accounted anything dishonourable; but if he succeeds he is praised, and flattery or a dishonour to himself, so the beloved has one way 7 only of voluntary service which is not dishonourable, and this with a little water; and if it still continues, tickle your nose is virtuous service. with something and sneeze; and if you sneeze once or twice, For we have a custom, and according to our custom any one even the most violent hiccough is sure to go. I will do as you who does service to another under the idea that he will be im- prescribe, said Aristophanes, and now get on. proved by him either in wisdom, or in some other particular Eryximachus spoke as follows: Seeing that Pausanias made of virtueÐsuch a voluntary service, I say, is not to be regarded a fair beginning, and but a lame ending, I must endeavour to as a dishonour, and is not open to the charge of flattery. And supply his deficiency. I think that he has rightly distinguished these two customs, one the love of youth, and the other the two kinds of love. But my art further informs me that the practice of philosophy and virtue in general, ought to meet in double love is not merely an affection of the soul of man to- one, and then the beloved may honourably indulge the lover. wards the fair, or towards anything, but is to be found in the For when the lover and beloved come together, having each of bodies of all animals and in productions of the earth, and I them a law, and the lover thinks that he is right in doing any may say in all that is; such is the conclusion which I seem to service which he can to his gracious loving one; and the other have gathered from my own art of medicine, whence I learn that he is right in showing any kindness which he can to him how great and wonderful and universal is the deity of love, who is making him wise and good; the one capable of commu- whose empire extends over all things, divine as well as hu- nicating wisdom and virtue, the other seeking to acquire them man. And from medicine I will begin that I may do honour with a view to education and wisdom, when the two laws of to my art. There are in the human body these two kinds of love are fulfilled and meet in oneÐthen, and then only, may the love, which are confessedly different and unlike, and being beloved yield with honour to the lover. Nor when love is of unlike, they have loves and desires which are unlike; and the this disinterested sort is there any disgrace in being deceived, desire of the healthy is one, and the desire of the diseased but in every other case there is equal disgrace in being or not is another; and as Pausanias was just now saying that to in- being deceived. For he who is gracious to his lover under the dulge good men is honourable, and bad men dishonourable:Ð impression that he is rich, and is disappointed of his gains be- so too in the body the good and healthy elements are to be cause he turns out to be poor, is disgraced all the same: for he indulged, and the bad elements and the elements of disease has done his best to show that he would give himself up to any are not to be indulged, but discouraged. And this is what the one’s ’uses base’ for the sake of money; but this is not hon- physician has to do, and in this the art of medicine consists: ourable. And on the same principle he who gives himself to a for medicine may be regarded generally as the knowledge of lover because he is a good man, and in the hope that he will the loves and desires of the body, and how to satisfy them or be improved by his company, shows himself to be virtuous, not; and the best physician is he who is able to separate fair even though the object of his affection turn out to be a villain, love from foul, or to convert one into the other; and he who and to have no virtue; and if he is deceived he has commit- knows how to eradicate and how to implant love, whichever ted a noble error. For he has proved that for his part he will is required, and can reconcile the most hostile elements in the do anything for anybody with a view to virtue and improve- constitution and make them loving friends, is a skilful prac- ment, than which there can be nothing nobler. Thus noble in titioner. Now the most hostile are the most opposite, such as every case is the acceptance of another for the sake of virtue. hot and cold, bitter and sweet, moist and dry, and the like. This is that love which is the love of the heavenly godess, and And my ancestor, Asclepius, knowing how to implant friend- is heavenly, and of great price to individuals and cities, mak- ship and accord in these elements, was the creator of our art, ing the lover and the beloved alike eager in the work of their as our friends the poets here tell us, and I believe them; and own improvement. But all other loves are the offspring of the not only medicine in every branch but the arts of gymnastic other, who is the common goddess. To you, Phaedrus, I offer and husbandry are under his dominion. Any one who pays the this my contribution in praise of love, which is as good as I least attention to the subject will also perceive that in music could make extempore. there is the same reconciliation of opposites; and I suppose that this must have been the meaning of Heracleitus, although his words are not accurate; for he says that The One is united 1.4. The Speech of Eryximachus by disunion, like the harmony of the bow and the lyre. Now there is an absurdity saying that harmony is discord or is com- Pausanias came to a pauseÐthis is the balanced way in posed of elements which are still in a state of discord. But which I have been taught by the wise to speak; and Aristode- what he probably meant was, that harmony is composed of mus said that the turn of Aristophanes was next, but either he differing notes of higher or lower pitch which disagreed once, had eaten too much, or from some other cause he had the hic- but are now reconciled by the art of music; for if the higher cough, and was obliged to change turns with Eryximachus the and lower notes still disagreed, there could be no harmony,Ð physician, who was reclining on the couch below him. Eryx- clearly not. For harmony is a symphony, and symphony is imachus, he said, you ought either to stop my hiccough, or to an agreement; but an agreement of disagreements while they speak in my turn until I have left off. disagree there cannot be; you cannot harmonize that which I will do both, said Eryximachus: I will speak in your turn, disagrees. In like manner rhythm is compounded of elements and do you speak in mine; and while I am speaking let me short and long, once differing and now in accord; which ac- recommend you to hold your breath, and if after you have cordance, as in the former instance, medicine, so in all these done so for some time the hiccough is no better, then gargle other cases, music implants, making love and unison to grow 8 up among them; and thus music, too, is concerned with the 1.5. The Speech of Aristophanes principles of love in their application to harmony and rhythm. Again, in the essential nature of harmony and rhythm there Yes, said Aristophanes, who followed, the hiccough is is no difficulty in discerning love which has not yet become gone; not, however, until I applied the sneezing; and I wonder double. But when you want to use them in actual life, either in whether the harmony of the body has a love of such noises the composition of songs or in the correct performance of airs and ticklings, for I no sooner applied the sneezing than I was or metres composed already, which latter is called education, cured. then the difficulty begins, and the good artist is needed. Then Eryximachus said: Beware, friend Aristophanes, although the old tale has to be repeated of fair and heavenly loveÐthe you are going to speak, you are making fun of me; and I shall love of Urania the fair and heavenly muse, and of the duty of have to watch and see whether I cannot have a laugh at your accepting the temperate, and those who are as yet intemperate expense, when you might speak in peace. only that they may become temperate, and of preserving their You are right, said Aristophanes, laughing. I will unsay my love; and again, of the vulgar Polyhymnia, who must be used words; but do you please not to watch me, as I fear that in the with circumspection that the pleasure be enjoyed, but may not speech which I am about to make, instead of others laughing generate licentiousness; just as in my own art it is a great mat- with me, which is to the manner born of our muse and would ter so to regulate the desires of the epicure that he may gratify be all the better, I shall only be laughed at by them. his tastes without the attendant evil of disease. Whence I infer Do you expect to shoot your bolt and escape, Aristophanes? that in music, in medicine, in all other things human as well Well, perhaps if you are very careful and bear in mind that you as divine, both loves ought to be noted as far as may be, for will be called to account, I may be induced to let you off. they are both present. Aristophanes professed to open another vein of discourse; he had a mind to praise Love in another way, unlike that ei- ther of Pausanias or Eryximachus. Mankind, he said, judging by their neglect of him, have never, as I think, at all under- stood the power of Love. For if they had understood him they The course of the seasons is also full of both these princi- would surely have built noble temples and altars, and offered ples; and when, as I was saying, the elements of hot and cold, solemn sacrifices in his honour; but this is not done, and most moist and dry, attain the harmonious love of one another and certainly ought to be done: since of all the gods he is the best blend in temperance and harmony, they bring to men, animals, friend of men, the helper and the healer of the ills which are and plants health and plenty, and do them no harm; whereas the great impediment to the happiness of the race. I will try the wanton love, getting the upper hand and affecting the sea- to describe his power to you, and you shall teach the rest of sons of the year, is very destructive and injurious, being the the world what I am teaching you. In the first place, let me source of pestilence, and bringing many other kinds of dis- treat of the nature of man and what has happened to it; for the eases on animals and plants; for hoar-frost and hail and blight original human nature was not like the present, but different. spring from the excesses and disorders of these elements of The sexes were not two as they are now, but originally three love, which to know in relation to the revolutions of the heav- in number; there was man, woman, and the union of the two, enly bodies and the seasons of the year is termed astronomy. having a name corresponding to this double nature, which had Furthermore all sacrifices and the whole province of divina- once a real existence, but is now lost, and the word ’Androg- tion, which is the art of communion between gods and menÐ ynous’ is only preserved as a term of reproach. In the second these, I say, are concerned only with the preservation of the place, the primeval man was round, his back and sides form- good and the cure of the evil love. For all manner of impiety is ing a circle; and he had four hands and four feet, one head likely to ensue if, instead of accepting and honouring and rev- with two faces, looking opposite ways, set on a round neck erencing the harmonious love in all his actions, a man honours and precisely alike; also four ears, two privy members, and the other love, whether in his feelings towards gods or parents, the remainder to correspond. He could walk upright as men towards the living or the dead. Wherefore the business of div- now do, backwards or forwards as he pleased, and he could ination is to see to these loves and to heal them, and divination also roll over and over at a great pace, turning on his four is the peacemaker of gods and men, working by a knowledge hands and four feet, eight in all, like tumblers going over and of the religious or irreligious tendencies which exist in human over with their legs in the air; this was when he wanted to loves. Such is the great and mighty, or rather omnipotent force run fast. Now the sexes were three, and such as I have de- of love in general. And the love, more especially, which is scribed them; because the sun, moon, and earth are three; and concerned with the good, and which is perfected in company the man was originally the child of the sun, the woman of the with temperance and justice, whether among gods or men, has earth, and the man-woman of the moon, which is made up the greatest power, and is the source of all our happiness and of sun and earth, and they were all round and moved round harmony, and makes us friends with the gods who are above and round like their parents. Terrible was their might and us, and with one another. I dare say that I too have omitted strength, and the thoughts of their hearts were great, and they several things which might be said in praise of Love, but this made an attack upon the gods; of them is told the tale of Otys was not intentional, and you, Aristophanes, may now supply and Ephialtes who, as Homer says, dared to scale heaven, and the omission or take some other line of commendation; for I would have laid hands upon the gods. Doubt reigned in the perceive that you are rid of the hiccough. celestial councils. Should they kill them and annihilate the 9 race with thunderbolts, as they had done the giants, then there want of shame, but because they are valiant and manly, and would be an end of the sacrifices and worship which men of- have a manly countenance, and they embrace that which is like fered to them; but, on the other hand, the gods could not suffer them. And these when they grow up become our statesmen, their insolence to be unrestrained. At last, after a good deal of and these only, which is a great proof of the truth of what I am reflection, Zeus discovered a way. He said: ’Methinks I have saving. When they reach manhood they are lovers of youth, a plan which will humble their pride and improve their man- and are not naturally inclined to marry or beget children,Ðif ners; men shall continue to exist, but I will cut them in two at all, they do so only in obedience to the law; but they are and then they will be diminished in strength and increased in satisfied if they may be allowed to live with one another un- numbers; this will have the advantage of making them more wedded; and such a nature is prone to love and ready to return profitable to us. They shall walk upright on two legs, and if love, always embracing that which is akin to him. And when they continue insolent and will not be quiet, I will split them one of them meets with his other half, the actual half of him- again and they shall hop about on a single leg.’ He spoke and self, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, cut men in two, like a sorb-apple which is halved for pickling, the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and or as you might divide an egg with a hair; and as he cut them intimacy, and one will not be out of the other’s sight, as I may one after another, he bade Apollo give the face and the half say, even for a moment: these are the people who pass their of the neck a turn in order that the man might contemplate whole lives together; yet they could not explain what they de- the section of himself: he would thus learn a lesson of humil- sire of one another. For the intense yearning which each of ity. Apollo was also bidden to heal their wounds and compose them has towards the other does not appear to be the desire their forms. So he gave a turn to the face and pulled the skin of lover’s intercourse, but of something else which the soul of from the sides all over that which in our language is called the either evidently desires and cannot tell, and of which she has belly, like the purses which draw in, and he made one mouth only a dark and doubtful presentiment. Suppose Hephaestus, at the centre, which he fastened in a knot (the same which is with his instruments, to come to the pair who are lying side called the navel); he also moulded the breast and took out most by side and to say to them, ’What do you people want of one of the wrinkles, much as a shoemaker might smooth leather another?’ they would be unable to explain. And suppose fur- upon a last; he left a few, however, in the region of the belly ther, that when he saw their perplexity he said: ’Do you desire and navel, as a memorial of the primeval state. After the divi- to be wholly one; always day and night to be in one another’s sion the two parts of man, each desiring his other half, came company? for if this is what you desire, I am ready to melt you together, and throwing their arms about one another, entwined into one and let you grow together, so that being two you shall in mutual embraces, longing to grow into one, they were on become one, and while you live live a common life as if you the point of dying from hunger and self-neglect, because they were a single man, and after your death in the world below still did not like to do anything apart; and when one of the halves be one departed soul instead of twoÐI ask whether this is what died and the other survived, the survivor sought another mate, you lovingly desire, and whether you are satisfied to attain man or woman as we call them,Ðbeing the sections of entire this?’–there is not a man of them who when he heard the pro- men or women,Ðand clung to that. They were being destroyed, posal would deny or would not acknowledge that this meeting when Zeus in pity of them invented a new plan: he turned the and melting into one another, this becoming one instead of parts of generation round to the front, for this had not been two, was the very expression of his ancient need (compare always their position, and they sowed the seed no longer as Arist. Pol.). And the reason is that human nature was orig- hitherto like grasshoppers in the ground, but in one another; inally one and we were a whole, and the desire and pursuit and after the transposition the male generated in the female of the whole is called love. There was a time, I say, when in order that by the mutual embraces of man and woman they we were one, but now because of the wickedness of mankind might breed, and the race might continue; or if man came to God has dispersed us, as the Arcadians were dispersed into man they might be satisfied, and rest, and go their ways to the villages by the Lacedaemonians (compare Arist. Pol.). And business of life: so ancient is the desire of one another which if we are not obedient to the gods, there is a danger that we is implanted in us, reuniting our original nature, making one shall be split up again and go about in basso-relievo, like the of two, and healing the state of man. Each of us when sepa- profile figures having only half a nose which are sculptured rated, having one side only, like a flat fish, is but the indenture on monuments, and that we shall be like tallies. Wherefore let of a man, and he is always looking for his other half. Men us exhort all men to piety, that we may avoid evil, and obtain who are a section of that double nature which was once called the good, of which Love is to us the lord and minister; and let Androgynous are lovers of women; adulterers are generally of no one oppose himÐhe is the enemy of the gods who opposes this breed, and also adulterous women who lust after men: the him. For if we are friends of the God and at peace with him women who are a section of the woman do not care for men, we shall find our own true loves, which rarely happens in this but have female attachments; the female companions are of world at present. I am serious, and therefore I must beg Eryx- this sort. But they who are a section of the male follow the imachus not to make fun or to find any allusion in what I am male, and while they are young, being slices of the original saying to Pausanias and Agathon, who, as I suspect, are both man, they hang about men and embrace them, and they are of the manly nature, and belong to the class which I have been themselves the best of boys and youths, because they have the describing. But my words have a wider application Ðthey in- most manly nature. Some indeed assert that they are shame- clude men and women everywhere; and I believe that if our less, but this is not true; for they do not act thus from any loves were perfectly accomplished, and each one returning to 10 his primeval nature had his original true love, then our race Love which I ought to receive from him and from every one. would be happy. And if this would be best of all, the best in When you and he have paid your tribute to the god, then you the next degree and under present circumstances must be the may talk. nearest approach to such an union; and that will be the attain- ment of a congenial love. Wherefore, if we would praise him who has given to us the benefit, we must praise the god Love, 1.7. The Speech of Agathon who is our greatest benefactor, both leading us in this life back to our own nature, and giving us high hopes for the future, for Very good, Phaedrus, said Agathon; I see no reason why he promises that if we are pious, he will restore us to our orig- I should not proceed with my speech, as I shall have many inal state, and heal us and make us happy and blessed. This, other opportunities of conversing with Socrates. Let me say Eryximachus, is my discourse of love, which, although differ- first how I ought to speak, and then speak:Ð ent to yours, I must beg you to leave unassailed by the shafts The previous speakers, instead of praising the god Love, or of your ridicule, in order that each may have his turn; each, or unfolding his nature, appear to have congratulated mankind rather either, for Agathon and Socrates are the only ones left. on the benefits which he confers upon them. But I would rather praise the god first, and then speak of his gifts; this is always the right way of praising everything. May I say with- 1.6. Socrates and Agathon out impiety or offence, that of all the blessed gods he is the most blessed because he is the fairest and best? And he is Indeed, I am not going to attack you, said Eryximachus, the fairest: for, in the first place, he is the youngest, and of for I thought your speech charming, and did I not know that his youth he is himself the witness, fleeing out of the way of Agathon and Socrates are masters in the art of love, I should age, who is swift enough, swifter truly than most of us like:Ð be really afraid that they would have nothing to say, after the Love hates him and will not come near him; but youth and world of things which have been said already. But, for all that, love live and move togetherÐlike to like, as the proverb says. I am not without hopes. Many things were said by Phaedrus about Love in which I Socrates said: You played your part well, Eryximachus; but agree with him; but I cannot agree that he is older than Iape- if you were as I am now, or rather as I shall be when Agathon tus and Kronos:Ðnot so; I maintain him to be the youngest of has spoken, you would, indeed, be in a great strait. the gods, and youthful ever. The ancient doings among the You want to cast a spell over me, Socrates, said Agathon, in gods of which Hesiod and Parmenides spoke, if the tradition the hope that I may be disconcerted at the expectation raised of them be true, were done of Necessity and not of Love; had among the audience that I shall speak well. Love been in those days, there would have been no chaining I should be strangely forgetful, Agathon replied Socrates, of or mutilation of the gods, or other violence, but peace and the courage and magnanimity which you showed when your sweetness, as there is now in heaven, since the rule of Love own compositions were about to be exhibited, and you came began. Love is young and also tender; he ought to have a poet upon the stage with the actors and faced the vast theatre al- like Homer to describe his tenderness, as Homer says of Ate, together undismayed, if I thought that your nerves could be that she is a goddess and tender:Ð fluttered at a small party of friends. ’Her feet are tender, for she sets her steps, Not Do you think, Socrates, said Agathon, that my head is so on the ground but on the heads of men:’ full of the theatre as not to know how much more formidable to a man of sense a few good judges are than many fools? herein is an excellent proof of her tenderness,Ðthat she walks Nay, replied Socrates, I should be very wrong in attributing not upon the hard but upon the soft. Let us adduce a similar to you, Agathon, that or any other want of refinement. And I proof of the tenderness of Love; for he walks not upon the am quite aware that if you happened to meet with any whom earth, nor yet upon the skulls of men, which are not so very you thought wise, you would care for their opinion much more soft, but in the hearts and souls of both gods and men, which than for that of the many. But then we, having been a part of are of all things the softest: in them he walks and dwells and the foolish many in the theatre, cannot be regarded as the se- makes his home. Not in every soul without exception, for lect wise; though I know that if you chanced to be in the pres- where there is hardness he departs, where there is softness ence, not of one of ourselves, but of some really wise man, you there he dwells; and nestling always with his feet and in all would be ashamed of disgracing yourself before himÐwould manner of ways in the softest of soft places, how can he be you not? other than the softest of all things? Of a truth he is the ten- Yes, said Agathon. derest as well as the youngest, and also he is of flexile form; But before the many you would not be ashamed, if you for if he were hard and without flexure he could not enfold thought that you were doing something disgraceful in their all things, or wind his way into and out of every soul of man presence? undiscovered. And a proof of his flexibility and symmetry Here Phaedrus interrupted them, saying: not answer him, of form is his grace, which is universally admitted to be in an my dear Agathon; for if he can only get a partner with whom especial manner the attribute of Love; ungrace and love are al- he can talk, especially a good- looking one, he will no longer ways at war with one another. The fairness of his complexion care about the completion of our plan. Now I love to hear him is revealed by his habitation among the flowers; for he dwells talk; but just at present I must not forget the encomium on not amid bloomless or fading beauties, whether of body or 11 soul or aught else, but in the place of flowers and scents, there der of the wise, the amazement of the gods; desired by those he sits and abides. Concerning the beauty of the god I have who have no part in him, and precious to those who have the said enough; and yet there remains much more which I might better part in him; parent of delicacy, luxury, desire, fondness, say. Of his virtue I have now to speak: his greatest glory is softness, grace; regardful of the good, regardless of the evil: in that he can neither do nor suffer wrong to or from any god or every word, work, wish, fearÐsaviour, pilot, comrade, helper; any man; for he suffers not by force if he suffers; force comes glory of gods and men, leader best and brightest: in whose not near him, neither when he acts does he act by force. For all footsteps let every man follow, sweetly singing in his honour men in all things serve him of their own free will, and where and joining in that sweet strain with which love charms the there is voluntary agreement, there, as the laws which are the souls of gods and men. Such is the speech, Phaedrus, half- lords of the city say, is justice. And not only is he just but playful, yet having a certain measure of seriousness, which, exceedingly temperate, for Temperance is the acknowledged according to my ability, I dedicate to the god. ruler of the pleasures and desires, and no pleasure ever mas- ters Love; he is their master and they are his servants; and if he conquers them he must be temperate indeed. As to courage, 1.8. Socrates even the God of War is no match for him; he is the captive and Love is the lord, for love, the love of Aphrodite, masters him, When Agathon had done speaking, Aristodemus said that as the tale runs; and the master is stronger than the servant. there was a general cheer; the young man was thought to have And if he conquers the bravest of all others, he must be him- spoken in a manner worthy of himself, and of the god. And self the bravest. Of his courage and justice and temperance I Socrates, looking at Eryximachus, said: Tell me, son of Acu- have spoken, but I have yet to speak of his wisdom; and ac- menus, was there not reason in my fears? and was I not a true cording to the measure of my ability I must try to do my best. prophet when I said that Agathon would make a wonderful In the first place he is a poet (and here, like Eryximachus, I oration, and that I should be in a strait? magnify my art), and he is also the source of poesy in others, The part of the prophecy which concerns Agathon, replied which he could not be if he were not himself a poet. And at Eryximachus, appears to me to be true; but not the other partÐ the touch of him every one becomes a poet, even though he that you will be in a strait. had no music in him before (A fragment of the Sthenoaoea of Euripides.); this also is a proof that Love is a good poet and Why, my dear friend, said Socrates, must not I or any one be in a strait who has to speak after he has heard such a rich accomplished in all the fine arts; for no one can give to an- other that which he has not himself, or teach that of which he and varied discourse? I am especially struck with the beauty of the concluding wordsÐwho could listen to them without has no knowledge. Who will deny that the creation of the an- imals is his doing? Are they not all the works of his wisdom, amazement? When I reflected on the immeasurable inferi- ority of my own powers, I was ready to run away for shame, if born and begotten of him? And as to the artists, do we not know that he only of them whom love inspires has the light there had been a possibility of escape. For I was reminded of Gorgias, and at the end of his speech I fancied that Agathon of fame?Ðhe whom Love touches not walks in darkness. The arts of medicine and archery and divination were discovered was shaking at me the Gorginian or Gorgonian head of the great master of rhetoric, which was simply to turn me and by Apollo, under the guidance of love and desire; so that he too is a disciple of Love. Also the melody of the Muses, the my speech into stone, as Homer says (Odyssey), and strike me dumb. And then I perceived how foolish I had been in metallurgy of Hephaestus, the weaving of Athene, the empire of Zeus over gods and men, are all due to Love, who was consenting to take my turn with you in praising love, and saying that I too was a master of the art, when I really had the inventor of them. And so Love set in order the empire of no conception how anything ought to be praised. For in my the godsÐthe love of beauty, as is evident, for with deformity Love has no concern. In the days of old, as I began by saying, simplicity I imagined that the topics of praise should be true, and that this being presupposed, out of the true the speaker dreadful deeds were done among the gods, for they were ruled by Necessity; but now since the birth of Love, and from the was to choose the best and set them forth in the best manner. And I felt quite proud, thinking that I knew the nature of true Love of the beautiful, has sprung every good in heaven and earth. Therefore, Phaedrus, I say of Love that he is the fairest praise, and should speak well. Whereas I now see that the intention was to attribute to Love every species of greatness and best in himself, and the cause of what is fairest and best in all other things. And there comes into my mind a line of and glory, whether really belonging to him or not, without regard to truth or falsehoodÐthat was no matter; for the orig- poetry in which he is said to be the god who inal proposal seems to have been not that each of you should ’Gives peace on earth and calms the stormy really praise Love, but only that you should appear to praise deep, Who stills the winds and bids the sufferer him. And so you attribute to Love every imaginable form of sleep.’ praise which can be gathered anywhere; and you say that ’he is all this,’ and ’the cause of all that,’ making him appear the This is he who empties men of disaffection and fills them with fairest and best of all to those who know him not, for you affection, who makes them to meet together at banquets such cannot impose upon those who know him. And a noble and as these: in sacrifices, feasts, dances, he is our lordÐwho sends solemn hymn of praise have you rehearsed. But as I misun- courtesy and sends away discourtesy, who gives kindness ever derstood the nature of the praise when I said that I would take and never gives unkindness; the friend of the good, the won- my turn, I must beg to be absolved from the promise which I 12 made in ignorance, and which (as Euripides would say (Eurip. Very true. Hyppolytus)) was a promise of the lips and not of the mind. And yet, added Socrates, if a man being strong desired to Farewell then to such a strain: for I do not praise in that way; be strong, or being swift desired to be swift, or being healthy no, indeed, I cannot. But if you like to hear the truth about desired to be healthy, in that case he might be thought to desire love, I am ready to speak in my own manner, though I will something which he already has or is. I give the example in not make myself ridiculous by entering into any rivalry with order that we may avoid misconception. For the possessors you. Say then, Phaedrus, whether you would like to have the of these qualities, Agathon, must be supposed to have their truth about love, spoken in any words and in any order which respective advantages at the time, whether they choose or not; may happen to come into my mind at the time. Will that be and who can desire that which he has? Therefore, when a agreeable to you? person says, I am well and wish to be well, or I am rich and Aristodemus said that Phaedrus and the company bid him wish to be rich, and I desire simply to have what I haveÐto speak in any manner which he thought best. Then, he added, him we shall reply: ’You, my friend, having wealth and health let me have your permission first to ask Agathon a few more and strength, want to have the continuance of them; for at questions, in order that I may take his admissions as the pre- this moment, whether you choose or no, you have them. And misses of my discourse. when you say, I desire that which I have and nothing else, is I grant the permission, said Phaedrus: put your questions. not your meaning that you want to have what you now have in Socrates then proceeded as follows:Ð the future?’ He must agree with usÐmust he not? In the magnificent oration which you have just uttered, I He must, replied Agathon. think that you were right, my dear Agathon, in proposing to Then, said Socrates, he desires that what he has at present speak of the nature of Love first and afterwards of his worksÐ may be preserved to him in the future, which is equivalent to that is a way of beginning which I very much approve. And saying that he desires something which is non-existent to him, as you have spoken so eloquently of his nature, may I ask you and which as yet he has not got: further, Whether love is the love of something or of nothing? Very true, he said. And here I must explain myself: I do not want you to say that Then he and every one who desires, desires that which he love is the love of a father or the love of a motherÐthat would has not already, and which is future and not present, and which be ridiculous; but to answer as you would, if I asked is a father he has not, and is not, and of which he is in want;Ðthese are a father of something? to which you would find no difficulty the sort of things which love and desire seek? in replying, of a son or daughter: and the answer would be Very true, he said. right. Then now, said Socrates, let us recapitulate the argument. Very true, said Agathon. First, is not love of something, and of something too which is And you would say the same of a mother? wanting to a man? He assented. Yes, he replied. Yet let me ask you one more question in order to illustrate Remember further what you said in your speech, or if you my meaning: Is not a brother to be regarded essentially as a do not remember I will remind you: you said that the love of brother of something? the beautiful set in order the empire of the gods, for that of Certainly, he replied. deformed things there is no loveÐdid you not say something That is, of a brother or sister? of that kind? Yes, he said. Yes, said Agathon. And now, said Socrates, I will ask about Love:ÐIs Love of Yes, my friend, and the remark was a just one. And if this something or of nothing? is true, Love is the love of beauty and not of deformity? Of something, surely, he replied. He assented. Keep in mind what this is, and tell me what I want to knowÐ And the admission has been already made that Love is of whether Love desires that of which love is. something which a man wants and has not? Yes, surely. True, he said. And does he possess, or does he not possess, that which he loves and desires? Then Love wants and has not beauty? Probably not, I should say. Certainly, he replied. Nay, replied Socrates, I would have you consider whether And would you call that beautiful which wants and does not ’necessarily’ is not rather the word. The inference that he possess beauty? who desires something is in want of something, and that he Certainly not. who desires nothing is in want of nothing, is in my judgment, Then would you still say that love is beautiful? Agathon, absolutely and necessarily true. What do you think? Agathon replied: I fear that I did not understand what I was I agree with you, said Agathon. saying. Very good. Would he who is great, desire to be great, or he You made a very good speech, Agathon, replied Socrates; who is strong, desire to be strong? but there is yet one small question which I would fain ask:ÐIs That would be inconsistent with our previous admissions. not the good also the beautiful? True. For he who is anything cannot want to be that which Yes. he is? Then in wanting the beautiful, love wants also the good? 13

I cannot refute you, Socrates, said Agathon:ÐLet us assume I said, ’is his power?’ ’He interprets,’ she replied, ’between that what you say is true. gods and men, conveying and taking across to the gods the Say rather, beloved Agathon, that you cannot refute the prayers and sacrifices of men, and to men the commands and truth; for Socrates is easily refuted. replies of the gods; he is the mediator who spans the chasm which divides them, and therefore in him all is bound together, and through him the arts of the prophet and the priest, their 1.8.1. The Nature and Origin of Love sacrifices and mysteries and charms, and all prophecy and in- cantation, find their way. For God mingles not with man; but through Love all the intercourse and converse of God with And now, taking my leave of you, I would rehearse a tale man, whether awake or asleep, is carried on. The wisdom of love which I heard from Diotima of Mantineia (compare 1 which understands this is spiritual; all other wisdom, such as Alcibiades), a woman wise in this and in many other kinds of that of arts and handicrafts, is mean and vulgar. Now these knowledge, who in the days of old, when the Athenians of- spirits or intermediate powers are many and diverse, and one fered sacrifice before the coming of the plague, delayed the of them is Love.’ ’And who,’ I said, ’was his father, and who disease ten years. She was my instructress in the art of love, his mother?’ ’The tale,’ she said, ’will take time; nevertheless and I shall repeat to you what she said to me, beginning with I will tell you. On the birthday of Aphrodite there was a feast the admissions made by Agathon, which are nearly if not quite of the gods, at which the god Poros or Plenty, who is the son the same which I made to the wise woman when she ques- of Metis or Discretion, was one of the guests. When the feast tioned me: I think that this will be the easiest way, and I shall was over, Penia or Poverty, as the manner is on such occa- take both parts myself as well as I can (compare Gorgias). As sions, came about the doors to beg. Now Plenty who was the you, Agathon, suggested (supra), I must speak first of the be- worse for nectar (there was no wine in those days), went into ing and nature of Love, and then of his works. First I said to the garden of Zeus and fell into a heavy sleep, and Poverty her in nearly the same words which he used to me, that Love considering her own straitened circumstances, plotted to have was a mighty god, and likewise fair; and she proved to me as I a child by him, and accordingly she lay down at his side and proved to him that, by my own showing, Love was neither fair conceived Love, who partly because he is naturally a lover of nor good. ’What do you mean, Diotima,’ I said, ’is love then the beautiful, and because Aphrodite is herself beautiful, and evil and foul?’ ’Hush,’ she cried; ’must that be foul which is also because he was born on her birthday, is her follower and not fair?’ ’Certainly,’ I said. ’And is that which is not wise, attendant. And as his parentage is, so also are his fortunes. In ignorant? do you not see that there is a mean between wis- the first place he is always poor, and anything but tender and dom and ignorance?’ ’And what may that be?’ I said. ’Right fair, as the many imagine him; and he is rough and squalid, opinion,’ she replied; ’which, as you know, being incapable and has no shoes, nor a house to dwell in; on the bare earth of giving a reason, is not knowledge (for how can knowledge exposed he lies under the open heaven, in the streets, or at be devoid of reason? nor again, ignorance, for neither can ig- the doors of houses, taking his rest; and like his mother he is norance attain the truth), but is clearly something which is a always in distress. Like his father too, whom he also partly mean between ignorance and wisdom.’ ’Quite true,’ I replied. resembles, he is always plotting against the fair and good; he ’Do not then insist,’ she said, ’that what is not fair is of neces- is bold, enterprising, strong, a mighty hunter, always weaving sity foul, or what is not good evil; or infer that because love some intrigue or other, keen in the pursuit of wisdom, fertile in is not fair and good he is therefore foul and evil; for he is in a resources; a philosopher at all times, terrible as an enchanter, mean between them.’ ’Well,’ I said, ’Love is surely admitted sorcerer, sophist. He is by nature neither mortal nor immortal, by all to be a great god.’ ’By those who know or by those but alive and flourishing at one moment when he is in plenty, who do not know?’ ’By all.’ ’And how, Socrates,’ she said and dead at another moment, and again alive by reason of his with a smile, ’can Love be acknowledged to be a great god father’s nature. But that which is always flowing in is always by those who say that he is not a god at all?’ ’And who are flowing out, and so he is never in want and never in wealth; they?’ I said. ’You and I are two of them,’ she replied. ’How and, further, he is in a mean between ignorance and knowl- can that be?’ I said. ’It is quite intelligible,’ she replied; ’for edge. The truth of the matter is this: No god is a philosopher you yourself would acknowledge that the gods are happy and or seeker after wisdom, for he is wise already; nor does any fairÐof course you wouldÐwould you dare to say that any god man who is wise seek after wisdom. Neither do the ignorant was not?’ ’Certainly not,’ I replied. ’And you mean by the seek after wisdom. For herein is the evil of ignorance, that happy, those who are the possessors of things good or fair?’ he who is neither good nor wise is nevertheless satisfied with ’Yes.’ ’And you admitted that Love, because he was in want, himself: he has no desire for that of which he feels no want.’ desires those good and fair things of which he is in want?’ ’But who then, Diotima,’ I said, ’are the lovers of wisdom, if ’Yes, I did.’ ’But how can he be a god who has no portion in they are neither the wise nor the foolish?’ ’A child may an- what is either good or fair?’ ’Impossible.’ ’Then you see that swer that question,’ she replied; ’they are those who are in a you also deny the divinity of Love.’ mean between the two; Love is one of them. For wisdom is a ’What then is Love?’ I asked; ’Is he mortal?’ ’No.’ ’What most beautiful thing, and Love is of the beautiful; and there- then?’ ’As in the former instance, he is neither mortal nor fore Love is also a philosopher or lover of wisdom, and being immortal, but in a mean between the two.’ ’What is he, Dio- a lover of wisdom is in a mean between the wise and the ig- tima?’ ’He is a great spirit (daimon), and like all spirits he is norant. And of this too his birth is the cause; for his father intermediate between the divine and the mortal.’ ’And what,’ 14 is wealthy and wise, and his mother poor and foolish. Such, people say that lovers are seeking for their other half; but I my dear Socrates, is the nature of the spirit Love. The error say that they are seeking neither for the half of themselves, in your conception of him was very natural, and as I imagine nor for the whole, unless the half or the whole be also a good. from what you say, has arisen out of a confusion of love and And they will cut off their own hands and feet and cast them the beloved, which made you think that love was all beautiful. away, if they are evil; for they love not what is their own, For the beloved is the truly beautiful, and delicate, and perfect, unless perchance there be some one who calls what belongs and blessed; but the principle of love is of another nature, and to him the good, and what belongs to another the evil. For is such as I have described.’ there is nothing which men love but the good. Is there any- thing?’ ’Certainly, I should say, that there is nothing.’ ’Then,’ she said, ’the simple truth is, that men love the good.’ ’Yes,’ I said. ’To which must be added that they love the posses- 1.8.2. The Cause and Effect of Love sion of the good?’ ’Yes, that must be added.’ ’And not only the possession, but the everlasting possession of the good?’ I said, ’O thou stranger woman, thou sayest well; but, as- ’That must be added too.’ ’Then love,’ she said, ’may be de- suming Love to be such as you say, what is the use of him to scribed generally as the love of the everlasting possession of men?’ ’That, Socrates,’ she replied, ’I will attempt to unfold: the good?’ ’That is most true.’ of his nature and birth I have already spoken; and you ac- knowledge that love is of the beautiful. But some one will say: ’Then if this be the nature of love, can you tell me further,’ Of the beautiful in what, Socrates and Diotima?Ðor rather let she said, ’what is the manner of the pursuit? what are they do- me put the question more clearly, and ask: When a man loves ing who show all this eagerness and heat which is called love? the beautiful, what does he desire?’ I answered her ’That the and what is the object which they have in view? Answer me.’ beautiful may be his.’ ’Still,’ she said, ’the answer suggests a ’Nay, Diotima,’ I replied, ’if I had known, I should not have further question: What is given by the possession of beauty?’ wondered at your wisdom, neither should I have come to learn ’To what you have asked,’ I replied, ’I have no answer ready.’ from you about this very matter.’ ’Well,’ she said, ’I will teach ’Then,’ she said, ’let me put the word “good” in the place of you:ÐThe object which they have in view is birth in beauty, the beautiful, and repeat the question once more: If he who whether of body or soul.’ ’I do not understand you,’ I said; loves loves the good, what is it then that he loves?’ ’The pos- ’the oracle requires an explanation.’ ’I will make my meaning session of the good,’ I said. ’And what does he gain who clearer,’ she replied. ’I mean to say, that all men are bring- possesses the good?’ ’Happiness,’ I replied; ’there is less dif- ing to the birth in their bodies and in their souls. There is a ficulty in answering that question.’ ’Yes,’ she said, ’the happy certain age at which human nature is desirous of procreationÐ are made happy by the acquisition of good things. Nor is there procreation which must be in beauty and not in deformity; any need to ask why a man desires happiness; the answer is and this procreation is the union of man and woman, and is already final.’ ’You are right.’ I said. ’And is this wish and a divine thing; for conception and generation are an immortal this desire common to all? and do all men always desire their principle in the mortal creature, and in the inharmonious they own good, or only some men?Ðwhat say you?’ ’All men,’ I can never be. But the deformed is always inharmonious with replied; ’the desire is common to all.’ ’Why, then,’ she re- the divine, and the beautiful harmonious. Beauty, then, is the joined, ’are not all men, Socrates, said to love, but only some destiny or goddess of parturition who presides at birth, and of them? whereas you say that all men are always loving the therefore, when approaching beauty, the conceiving power is same things.’ ’I myself wonder,’ I said, ’why this is.’ ’There is propitious, and diffusive, and benign, and begets and bears nothing to wonder at,’ she replied; ’the reason is that one part fruit: at the sight of ugliness she frowns and contracts and has of love is separated off and receives the name of the whole, a sense of pain, and turns away, and shrivels up, and not with- but the other parts have other names.’ ’Give an illustration,’ I out a pang refrains from conception. And this is the reason said. She answered me as follows: ’There is poetry, which, as why, when the hour of conception arrives, and the teeming you know, is complex and manifold. All creation or passage nature is full, there is such a flutter and ecstasy about beauty of non-being into being is poetry or making, and the processes whose approach is the alleviation of the pain of travail. For of all art are creative; and the masters of arts are all poets or love, Socrates, is not, as you imagine, the love of the beautiful makers.’ ’Very true.’ ’Still,’ she said, ’you know that they are only.’ ’What then?’ ’The love of generation and of birth in not called poets, but have other names; only that portion of beauty.’ ’Yes,’ I said. ’Yes, indeed,’ she replied. ’But why of the art which is separated off from the rest, and is concerned generation?’ ’Because to the mortal creature, generation is a with music and metre, is termed poetry, and they who possess sort of eternity and immortality,’ she replied; ’and if, as has poetry in this sense of the word are called poets.’ ’Very true,’ been already admitted, love is of the everlasting possession of I said. ’And the same holds of love. For you may say gener- the good, all men will necessarily desire immortality together ally that all desire of good and happiness is only the great and with good: Wherefore love is of immortality.’ subtle power of love; but they who are drawn towards him by All this she taught me at various times when she spoke of any other path, whether the path of money-making or gym- love. And I remember her once saying to me, ’What is the nastics or philosophy, are not called loversÐthe name of the cause, Socrates, of love, and the attendant desire? See you whole is appropriated to those whose affection takes one form not how all animals, birds, as well as beasts, in their desire onlyÐthey alone are said to love, or to be lovers.’ ’I dare say,’ of procreation, are in agony when they take the infection of I replied, ’that you are right.’ ’Yes,’ she added, ’and you hear love, which begins with the desire of union; whereto is added 15 the care of offspring, on whose behalf the weakest are ready the better they are the more they do them, in hope of the glo- to battle against the strongest even to the uttermost, and to die rious fame of immortal virtue; for they desire the immortal. for them, and will let themselves be tormented with hunger ’Those who are pregnant in the body only, betake them- or suffer anything in order to maintain their young. Man may selves to women and beget childrenÐthis is the character of be supposed to act thus from reason; but why should animals their love; their offspring, as they hope, will preserve their have these passionate feelings? Can you tell me why?’ Again memory and giving them the blessedness and immortality I replied that I did not know. She said to me: ’And do you which they desire in the future. But souls which are pregnant expect ever to become a master in the art of love, if you do not Ðfor there certainly are men who are more creative in their know this?’ ’But I have told you already, Diotima, that my souls than in their bodiesÐconceive that which is proper for the ignorance is the reason why I come to you; for I am conscious soul to conceive or contain. And what are these conceptions?Ð that I want a teacher; tell me then the cause of this and of the wisdom and virtue in general. And such creators are poets other mysteries of love.’ ’Marvel not,’ she said, ’if you be- and all artists who are deserving of the name inventor. But lieve that love is of the immortal, as we have several times ac- the greatest and fairest sort of wisdom by far is that which is knowledged; for here again, and on the same principle too, the concerned with the ordering of states and families, and which mortal nature is seeking as far as is possible to be everlasting is called temperance and justice. And he who in youth has the and immortal: and this is only to be attained by generation, seed of these implanted in him and is himself inspired, when because generation always leaves behind a new existence in he comes to maturity desires to beget and generate. He wan- the place of the old. Nay even in the life of the same individ- ders about seeking beauty that he may beget offspringÐfor in ual there is succession and not absolute unity: a man is called deformity he will beget nothingÐand naturally embraces the the same, and yet in the short interval which elapses between beautiful rather than the deformed body; above all when he youth and age, and in which every animal is said to have life finds a fair and noble and well-nurtured soul, he embraces the and identity, he is undergoing a perpetual process of loss and two in one person, and to such an one he is full of speech about reparationÐhair, flesh, bones, blood, and the whole body are virtue and the nature and pursuits of a good man; and he tries always changing. Which is true not only of the body, but also to educate him; and at the touch of the beautiful which is ever of the soul, whose habits, tempers, opinions, desires, plea- present to his memory, even when absent, he brings forth that sures, pains, fears, never remain the same in any one of us, which he had conceived long before, and in company with but are always coming and going; and equally true of knowl- him tends that which he brings forth; and they are married by edge, and what is still more surprising to us mortals, not only a far nearer tie and have a closer friendship than those who do the sciences in general spring up and decay, so that in re- beget mortal children, for the children who are their common spect of them we are never the same; but each of them indi- offspring are fairer and more immortal. Who, when he thinks vidually experiences a like change. For what is implied in the of Homer and Hesiod and other great poets, would not rather word “recollection,” but the departure of knowledge, which is have their children than ordinary human ones? Who would ever being forgotten, and is renewed and preserved by recol- not emulate them in the creation of children such as theirs, lection, and appears to be the same although in reality new, which have preserved their memory and given them everlast- according to that law of succession by which all mortal things ing glory? Or who would not have such children as Lycurgus are preserved, not absolutely the same, but by substitution, the left behind him to be the saviours, not only of Lacedaemon, old worn-out mortality leaving another new and similar exis- but of Hellas, as one may say? There is Solon, too, who is the tence behindÐunlike the divine, which is always the same and revered father of Athenian laws; and many others there are in not another? And in this way, Socrates, the mortal body, or many other places, both among Hellenes and barbarians, who mortal anything, partakes of immortality; but the immortal in have given to the world many noble works, and have been the another way. Marvel not then at the love which all men have parents of virtue of every kind; and many temples have been of their offspring; for that universal love and interest is for the raised in their honour for the sake of children such as theirs; sake of immortality.’ which were never raised in honour of any one, for the sake of his mortal children. I was astonished at her words, and said: ’Is this really true, O thou wise Diotima?’ And she answered with all the author- ity of an accomplished sophist: ’Of that, Socrates, you may be assured;Ðthink only of the ambition of men, and you will won- 1.8.3. The Ascent Passage der at the senselessness of their ways, unless you consider how they are stirred by the love of an immortality of fame. They ’These are the lesser mysteries of love, into which even are ready to run all risks greater far than they would have run you, Socrates, may enter; to the greater and more hidden ones for their children, and to spend money and undergo any sort which are the crown of these, and to which, if you pursue them of toil, and even to die, for the sake of leaving behind them in a right spirit, they will lead, I know not whether you will a name which shall be eternal. Do you imagine that Alcestis be able to attain. But I will do my utmost to inform you, and would have died to save Admetus, or Achilles to avenge Pa- do you follow if you can. For he who would proceed aright in troclus, or your own Codrus in order to preserve the kingdom this matter should begin in youth to visit beautiful forms; and for his sons, if they had not imagined that the memory of their first, if he be guided by his instructor aright, to love one such virtues, which still survives among us, would be immortal? form onlyÐout of that he should create fair thoughts; and soon Nay,’ she said, ’I am persuaded that all men do all things, and he will of himself perceive that the beauty of one form is akin 16 to the beauty of another; and then if beauty of form in general beauty, I mean, pure and clear and unalloyed, not clogged is his pursuit, how foolish would he be not to recognize that with the pollutions of mortality and all the colours and van- the beauty in every form is and the same! And when he per- ities of human lifeÐthither looking, and holding converse with ceives this he will abate his violent love of the one, which he the true beauty simple and divine? Remember how in that will despise and deem a small thing, and will become a lover communion only, beholding beauty with the eye of the mind, of all beautiful forms; in the next stage he will consider that he will be enabled to bring forth, not images of beauty, but the beauty of the mind is more honourable than the beauty of realities (for he has hold not of an image but of a reality), and the outward form. So that if a virtuous soul have but a lit- bringing forth and nourishing true virtue to become the friend tle comeliness, he will be content to love and tend him, and of God and be immortal, if mortal man may. Would that be an will search out and bring to the birth thoughts which may im- ignoble life?’ prove the young, until he is compelled to contemplate and see Such, PhaedrusÐand I speak not only to you, but to all of the beauty of institutions and laws, and to understand that the youÐwere the words of Diotima; and I am persuaded of their beauty of them all is of one family, and that personal beauty is truth. And being persuaded of them, I try to persuade others, a trifle; and after laws and institutions he will go on to the sci- that in the attainment of this end human nature will not easily ences, that he may see their beauty, being not like a servant in find a helper better than love: And therefore, also, I say that love with the beauty of one youth or man or institution, him- every man ought to honour him as I myself honour him, and self a slave mean and narrow-minded, but drawing towards walk in his ways, and exhort others to do the same, and praise and contemplating the vast sea of beauty, he will create many the power and spirit of love according to the measure of my fair and noble thoughts and notions in boundless love of wis- ability now and ever. dom; until on that shore he grows and waxes strong, and at The words which I have spoken, you, Phaedrus, may call last the vision is revealed to him of a single science, which an encomium of love, or anything else which you please. is the science of beauty everywhere. To this I will proceed; please to give me your very best attention: ’He who has been instructed thus far in the things of love, 1.9. Alcibiades and who has learned to see the beautiful in due order and suc- cession, when he comes toward the end will suddenly per- 1.9.1. The Entry of Alcibiades ceive a nature of wondrous beauty (and this, Socrates, is the final cause of all our former toils)Ða nature which in the first When Socrates had done speaking, the company applauded, place is everlasting, not growing and decaying, or waxing and and Aristophanes was beginning to say something in answer waning; secondly, not fair in one point of view and foul in to the allusion which Socrates had made to his own speech, another, or at one time or in one relation or at one place fair, when suddenly there was a great knocking at the door of the at another time or in another relation or at another place foul, house, as of revellers, and the sound of a flute-girl was heard. as if fair to some and foul to others, or in the likeness of a Agathon told the attendants to go and see who were the in- face or hands or any other part of the bodily frame, or in any truders. ’If they are friends of ours,’ he said, ’invite them in, form of speech or knowledge, or existing in any other being, but if not, say that the drinking is over.’ A little while after- as for example, in an animal, or in heaven, or in earth, or in wards they heard the voice of Alcibiades resounding in the any other place; but beauty absolute, separate, simple, and court; he was in a great state of intoxication, and kept roar- everlasting, which without diminution and without increase, ing and shouting ’Where is Agathon? Lead me to Agathon,’ or any change, is imparted to the ever-growing and perishing and at length, supported by the flute-girl and some of his at- beauties of all other things. He who from these ascending un- tendants, he found his way to them. ’Hail, friends,’ he said, der the influence of true love, begins to perceive that beauty, appearing at the door crowned with a massive garland of ivy is not far from the end. And the true order of going, or be- and violets, his head flowing with ribands. ’Will you have a ing led by another, to the things of love, is to begin from the very drunken man as a companion of your revels? Or shall I beauties of earth and mount upwards for the sake of that other crown Agathon, which was my intention in coming, and go beauty, using these as steps only, and from one going on to away? For I was unable to come yesterday, and therefore I am two, and from two to all fair forms, and from fair forms to fair here to-day, carrying on my head these ribands, that taking practices, and from fair practices to fair notions, until from them from my own head, I may crown the head of this fairest fair notions he arrives at the notion of absolute beauty, and and wisest of men, as I may be allowed to call him. Will you at last knows what the essence of beauty is. This, my dear laugh at me because I am drunk? Yet I know very well that I Socrates,’ said the stranger of Mantineia, ’is that life above all am speaking the truth, although you may laugh. But first tell others which man should live, in the contemplation of beauty me; if I come in shall we have the understanding of which I absolute; a beauty which if you once beheld, you would see spoke (supra Will you have a very drunken man? etc.)? Will not to be after the measure of gold, and garments, and fair you drink with me or not?’ boys and youths, whose presence now entrances you; and you The company were vociferous in begging that he would and many a one would be content to live seeing them only take his place among them, and Agathon specially invited and conversing with them without meat or drink, if that were him. Thereupon he was led in by the people who were with possibleÐyou only want to look at them and to be with them. him; and as he was being led, intending to crown Agathon, But what if man had eyes to see the true beautyÐthe divine he took the ribands from his own head and held them in front 17 of his eyes; he was thus prevented from seeing Socrates, who a speech in praise of love, and as good a one as he could: the made way for him, and Alcibiades took the vacant place be- turn was passed round from left to right; and as all of us have tween Agathon and Socrates, and in taking the place he em- spoken, and you have not spoken but have well drunken, you braced Agathon and crowned him. Take off his sandals, said ought to speak, and then impose upon Socrates any task which Agathon, and let him make a third on the same couch. you please, and he on his right hand neighbour, and so on. By all means; but who makes the third partner in our revels? That is good, Eryximachus, said Alcibiades; and yet the said Alcibiades, turning round and starting up as he caught comparison of a drunken man’s speech with those of sober sight of Socrates. By Heracles, he said, what is this? here men is hardly fair; and I should like to know, sweet friend, is Socrates always lying in wait for me, and always, as his whether you really believe what Socrates was just now saying; way is, coming out at all sorts of unsuspected places: and for I can assure you that the very reverse is the fact, and that if now, what have you to say for yourself, and why are you lying I praise any one but himself in his presence, whether God or here, where I perceive that you have contrived to find a place, man, he will hardly keep his hands off me. not by a joker or lover of jokes, like Aristophanes, but by the For shame, said Socrates. fairest of the company? Hold your tongue, said Alcibiades, for by Poseidon, there is Socrates turned to Agathon and said: I must ask you to pro- no one else whom I will praise when you are of the company. tect me, Agathon; for the passion of this man has grown quite Well then, said Eryximachus, if you like praise Socrates. a serious matter to me. Since I became his admirer I have What do you think, Eryximachus? said Alcibiades: shall I never been allowed to speak to any other fair one, or so much attack him and inflict the punishment before you all? as to look at them. If I do, he goes wild with envy and jeal- What are you about? said Socrates; are you going to raise a ousy, and not only abuses me but can hardly keep his hands laugh at my expense? Is that the meaning of your praise? off me, and at this moment he may do me some harm. Please I am going to speak the truth, if you will permit me. to see to this, and either reconcile me to him, or, if he attempts I not only permit, but exhort you to speak the truth. violence, protect me, as I am in bodily fear of his mad and Then I will begin at once, said Alcibiades, and if I say any- passionate attempts. thing which is not true, you may interrupt me if you will, and There can never be reconciliation between you and me, said say ’that is a lie,’ though my intention is to speak the truth. Alcibiades; but for the present I will defer your chastisement. But you must not wonder if I speak any how as things come And I must beg you, Agathon, to give me back some of the into my mind; for the fluent and orderly enumeration of all ribands that I may crown the marvellous head of this universal your singularities is not a task which is easy to a man in my despotÐI would not have him complain of me for crowning condition. you, and neglecting him, who in conversation is the conqueror of all mankind; and this not only once, as you were the day before yesterday, but always. Whereupon, taking some of the 1.9.2. The Speech of Alcibiades ribands, he crowned Socrates, and again reclined. Then he said: You seem, my friends, to be sober, which And now, my boys, I shall praise Socrates in a figure which is a thing not to be endured; you must drinkÐfor that was will appear to him to be a caricature, and yet I speak, not to the agreement under which I was admittedÐand I elect my- make fun of him, but only for the truth’s sake. I say, that self master of the feast until you are well drunk. Let us have a he is exactly like the busts of Silenus, which are set up in large goblet, Agathon, or rather, he said, addressing the atten- the statuaries’ shops, holding pipes and flutes in their mouths; dant, bring me that wine-cooler. The wine-cooler which had and they are made to open in the middle, and have images caught his eye was a vessel holding more than two quartsÐthis of gods inside them. I say also that he is like Marsyas the he filled and emptied, and bade the attendant fill it again for satyr. You yourself will not deny, Socrates, that your face is Socrates. Observe, my friends, said Alcibiades, that this in- like that of a satyr. Aye, and there is a resemblance in other genious trick of mine will have no effect on Socrates, for he points too. For example, you are a bully, as I can prove by can drink any quantity of wine and not be at all nearer being witnesses, if you will not confess. And are you not a flute- drunk. Socrates drank the cup which the attendant filled for player? That you are, and a performer far more wonderful him. than Marsyas. He indeed with instruments used to charm the Eryximachus said: What is this, Alcibiades? Are we to souls of men by the power of his breath, and the players of have neither conversation nor singing over our cups; but sim- his music do so still: for the melodies of Olympus (compare ply to drink as if we were thirsty? Arist. Pol.) are derived from Marsyas who taught them, and Alcibiades replied: Hail, worthy son of a most wise and these, whether they are played by a great master or by a miser- worthy sire! able flute-girl, have a power which no others have; they alone The same to you, said Eryximachus; but what shall we do? possess the soul and reveal the wants of those who have need That I leave to you, said Alcibiades. of gods and mysteries, because they are divine. But you pro- ’The wise physician skilled our wounds to heal (from duce the same effect with your words only, and do not require Pope’s Homer, Il.)’ the flute: that is the difference between you and him. When shall prescribe and we will obey. What do you want? we hear any other speaker, even a very good one, he produces Well, said Eryximachus, before you appeared we had absolutely no effect upon us, or not much, whereas the mere passed a resolution that each one of us in turn should make fragments of you and your words, even at second-hand, and 18 however imperfectly repeated, amaze and possess the souls I thought that when there was nobody with us, I should hear of every man, woman, and child who comes within hearing him speak the language which lovers use to their loves when of them. And if I were not afraid that you would think me they are by themselves, and I was delighted. Nothing of the hopelessly drunk, I would have sworn as well as spoken to the sort; he conversed as usual, and spent the day with me and influence which they have always had and still have over me. then went away. Afterwards I challenged him to the palaestra; For my heart leaps within me more than that of any Coryban- and he wrestled and closed with me several times when there tian reveller, and my eyes rain tears when I hear them. And I was no one present; I fancied that I might succeed in this man- observe that many others are affected in the same manner. I ner. Not a bit; I made no way with him. Lastly, as I had failed have heard Pericles and other great orators, and I thought that hitherto, I thought that I must take stronger measures and at- they spoke well, but I never had any similar feeling; my soul tack him boldly, and, as I had begun, not give him up, but see was not stirred by them, nor was I angry at the thought of my how matters stood between him and me. So I invited him to own slavish state. But this Marsyas has often brought me to sup with me, just as if he were a fair youth, and I a designing such a pass, that I have felt as if I could hardly endure the life lover. He was not easily persuaded to come; he did, however, which I am leading (this, Socrates, you will admit); and I am after a while accept the invitation, and when he came the first conscious that if I did not shut my ears against him, and fly time, he wanted to go away at once as soon as supper was as from the voice of the siren, my fate would be like that of over, and I had not the face to detain him. The second time, others,Ðhe would transfix me, and I should grow old sitting at still in pursuance of my design, after we had supped, I went his feet. For he makes me confess that I ought not to live as I on conversing far into the night, and when he wanted to go do, neglecting the wants of my own soul, and busying myself away, I pretended that the hour was late and that he had much with the concerns of the Athenians; therefore I hold my ears better remain. So he lay down on the couch next to me, the and tear myself away from him. And he is the only person same on which he had supped, and there was no one but our- who ever made me ashamed, which you might think not to be selves sleeping in the apartment. All this may be told without in my nature, and there is no one else who does the same. For shame to any one. But what follows I could hardly tell you if I I know that I cannot answer him or say that I ought not to do were sober. Yet as the proverb says, ’In vino veritas,’ whether as he bids, but when I leave his presence the love of popularity with boys, or without them (In allusion to two proverbs.); and gets the better of me. And therefore I run away and fly from therefore I must speak. Nor, again, should I be justified in him, and when I see him I am ashamed of what I have con- concealing the lofty actions of Socrates when I come to praise fessed to him. Many a time have I wished that he were dead, him. Moreover I have felt the serpent’s sting; and he who and yet I know that I should be much more sorry than glad, if has suffered, as they say, is willing to tell his fellow-sufferers he were to die: so that I am at my wit’s end. only, as they alone will be likely to understand him, and will not be extreme in judging of the sayings or doings which have And this is what I and many others have suffered from the been wrung from his agony. For I have been bitten by a more flute-playing of this satyr. Yet hear me once more while I than viper’s tooth; I have known in my soul, or in my heart, show you how exact the image is, and how marvellous his or in some other part, that worst of pangs, more violent in power. For let me tell you; none of you know him; but I will ingenuous youth than any serpent’s tooth, the pang of philos- reveal him to you; having begun, I must go on. See you how ophy, which will make a man say or do anything. And you fond he is of the fair? He is always with them and is always whom I see around me, Phaedrus and Agathon and Eryxi- being smitten by them, and then again he knows nothing and machus and Pausanias and Aristodemus and Aristophanes, all is ignorant of all thingsÐsuch is the appearance which he puts of you, and I need not say Socrates himself, have had expe- on. Is he not like a Silenus in this? To be sure he is: his outer rience of the same madness and passion in your longing after mask is the carved head of the Silenus; but, O my companions wisdom. Therefore listen and excuse my doings then and my in drink, when he is opened, what temperance there is resid- sayings now. But let the attendants and other profane and un- ing within! Know you that beauty and wealth and honour, at mannered persons close up the doors of their ears. which the many wonder, are of no account with him, and are utterly despised by him: he regards not at all the persons who When the lamp was put out and the servants had gone away, are gifted with them; mankind are nothing to him; all his life I thought that I must be plain with him and have no more am- is spent in mocking and flouting at them. But when I opened biguity. So I gave him a shake, and I said: ’Socrates, are you him, and looked within at his serious purpose, I saw in him di- asleep?’ ’No,’ he said. ’Do you know what I am meditat- vine and golden images of such fascinating beauty that I was ing? ’What are you meditating?’ he said. ’I think,’ I replied, ready to do in a moment whatever Socrates commanded: they ’that of all the lovers whom I have ever had you are the only may have escaped the observation of others, but I saw them. one who is worthy of me, and you appear to be too modest Now I fancied that he was seriously enamoured of my beauty, to speak. Now I feel that I should be a fool to refuse you and I thought that I should therefore have a grand opportunity this or any other favour, and therefore I come to lay at your of hearing him tell what he knew, for I had a wonderful opin- feet all that I have and all that my friends have, in the hope ion of the attractions of my youth. In the prosecution of this that you will assist me in the way of virtue, which I desire design, when I next went to him, I sent away the attendant above all things, and in which I believe that you can help me who usually accompanied me (I will confess the whole truth, better than any one else. And I should certainly have more and beg you to listen; and if I speak falsely, do you, Socrates, reason to be ashamed of what wise men would say if I were expose the falsehood). Well, he and I were alone together, and to refuse a favour to such as you, than of what the world, who 19 are mostly fools, would say of me if I granted it.’ To these and had their feet swathed in felt and fleeces: in the midst of words he replied in the ironical manner which is so charac- this, Socrates with his bare feet on the ice and in his ordinary teristic of him:–’Alcibiades, my friend, you have indeed an dress marched better than the other soldiers who had shoes, elevated aim if what you say is true, and if there really is in and they looked daggers at him because he seemed to despise me any power by which you may become better; truly you them. must see in me some rare beauty of a kind infinitely higher I have told you one tale, and now I must tell you another, than any which I see in you. And therefore, if you mean to which is worth hearing, share with me and to exchange beauty for beauty, you will ’Of the doings and sufferings of the enduring man’ have greatly the advantage of me; you will gain true beauty in return for appearanceÐlike Diomede, gold in exchange for while he was on the expedition. One morning he was think- ing about something which he could not resolve; he would brass. But look again, sweet friend, and see whether you are not deceived in me. The mind begins to grow critical when not give it up, but continued thinking from early dawn until noonÐthere he stood fixed in thought; and at noon attention the bodily eye fails, and it will be a long time before you get old.’ Hearing this, I said: ’I have told you my purpose, which was drawn to him, and the rumour ran through the wonder- ing crowd that Socrates had been standing and thinking about is quite serious, and do you consider what you think best for you and me.’ ’That is good,’ he said; ’at some other time then something ever since the break of day. At last, in the evening after supper, some Ionians out of curiosity (I should explain we will consider and act as seems best about this and about other matters.’ Whereupon, I fancied that he was smitten, and that this was not in winter but in summer), brought out their mats and slept in the open air that they might watch him and that the words which I had uttered like arrows had wounded see whether he would stand all night. There he stood until the him, and so without waiting to hear more I got up, and throw- ing my coat about him crept under his threadbare cloak, as following morning; and with the return of light he offered up a prayer to the sun, and went his way (compare supra). I will the time of year was winter, and there I lay during the whole night having this wonderful monster in my arms. This again, also tell, if you pleaseÐand indeed I am bound to tellÐof his courage in battle; for who but he saved my life? Now this was Socrates, will not be denied by you. And yet, notwithstanding all, he was so superior to my solicitations, so contemptuous the engagement in which I received the prize of valour: for I was wounded and he would not leave me, but he rescued me and derisive and disdainful of my beautyÐwhich really, as I fancied, had some attractionsÐhear, O judges; for judges you and my arms; and he ought to have received the prize of valour which the generals wanted to confer on me partly on account shall be of the haughty virtue of SocratesÐnothing more hap- pened, but in the morning when I awoke (let all the gods and of my rank, and I told them so, (this, again, Socrates will not impeach or deny), but he was more eager than the generals goddesses be my witnesses) I arose as from the couch of a father or an elder brother. that I and not he should have the prize. There was another occasion on which his behaviour was very remarkableÐin the What do you suppose must have been my feelings, after flight of the army after the battle of Delium, where he served this rejection, at the thought of my own dishonour? And yet I among the heavy-armed,ÐI had a better opportunity of see- could not help wondering at his natural temperance and self- ing him than at Potidaea, for I was myself on horseback, and restraint and manliness. I never imagined that I could have therefore comparatively out of danger. He and Laches were met with a man such as he is in wisdom and endurance. And retreating, for the troops were in flight, and I met them and therefore I could not be angry with him or renounce his com- told them not to be discouraged, and promised to remain with pany, any more than I could hope to win him. For I well knew them; and there you might see him, Aristophanes, as you de- that if Ajax could not be wounded by steel, much less he by scribe (Aristoph. Clouds), just as he is in the streets of Athens, money; and my only chance of captivating him by my per- stalking like a pelican, and rolling his eyes, calmly contem- sonal attractions had failed. So I was at my wit’s end; no plating enemies as well as friends, and making very intelligi- one was ever more hopelessly enslaved by another. All this ble to anybody, even from a distance, that whoever attacked happened before he and I went on the expedition to Potidaea; him would be likely to meet with a stout resistance; and in there we messed together, and I had the opportunity of ob- this way he and his companion escapedÐfor this is the sort of serving his extraordinary power of sustaining fatigue. His en- man who is never touched in war; those only are pursued who durance was simply marvellous when, being cut off from our are running away headlong. I particularly observed how su- supplies, we were compelled to go without foodÐon such oc- perior he was to Laches in presence of mind. Many are the casions, which often happen in time of war, he was superior marvels which I might narrate in praise of Socrates; most of not only to me but to everybody; there was no one to be com- his ways might perhaps be paralleled in another man, but his pared to him. Yet at a festival he was the only person who had absolute unlikeness to any human being that is or ever has any real powers of enjoyment; though not willing to drink, he been is perfectly astonishing. You may imagine Brasidas and could if compelled beat us all at that,Ðwonderful to relate! no others to have been like Achilles; or you may imagine Nestor human being had ever seen Socrates drunk; and his powers, and Antenor to have been like Pericles; and the same may if I am not mistaken, will be tested before long. His forti- be said of other famous men, but of this strange being you tude in enduring cold was also surprising. There was a severe will never be able to find any likeness, however remote, either frost, for the winter in that region is really tremendous, and among men who now are or who ever have beenÐother than everybody else either remained indoors, or if they went out that which I have already suggested of Silenus and the satyrs; had on an amazing quantity of clothes, and were well shod, and they represent in a figure not only himself, but his words. 20

For, although I forgot to mention this to you before, his words way in, and made themselves at home; great confusion en- are like the images of Silenus which open; they are ridiculous sued, and every one was compelled to drink large quantities of when you first hear them; he clothes himself in language that wine. Aristodemus said that Eryximachus, Phaedrus, and oth- is like the skin of the wanton satyrÐfor his talk is of pack-asses ers went awayÐhe himself fell asleep, and as the nights were and smiths and cobblers and curriers, and he is always repeat- long took a good rest: he was awakened towards daybreak by ing the same things in the same words (compare Gorg.), so a crowing of cocks, and when he awoke, the others were ei- that any ignorant or inexperienced person might feel disposed ther asleep, or had gone away; there remained only Socrates, to laugh at him; but he who opens the bust and sees what is Aristophanes, and Agathon, who were drinking out of a large within will find that they are the only words which have a goblet which they passed round, and Socrates was discours- meaning in them, and also the most divine, abounding in fair ing to them. Aristodemus was only half awake, and he did images of virtue, and of the widest comprehension, or rather not hear the beginning of the discourse; the chief thing which extending to the whole duty of a good and honourable man. he remembered was Socrates compelling the other two to ac- This, friends, is my praise of Socrates. I have added my knowledge that the genius of comedy was the same with that blame of him for his ill-treatment of me; and he has ill-treated of tragedy, and that the true artist in tragedy was an artist in not only me, but Charmides the son of Glaucon, and Euthy- comedy also. To this they were constrained to assent, being demus the son of Diocles, and many others in the same wayÐ drowsy, and not quite following the argument. And first of beginning as their lover he has ended by making them pay all Aristophanes dropped off, then, when the day was already their addresses to him. Wherefore I say to you, Agathon, ’Be dawning, Agathon. Socrates, having laid them to sleep, rose not deceived by him; learn from me and take warning, and do to depart; Aristodemus, as his manner was, following him. At not be a fool and learn by experience, as the proverb says.’ the Lyceum he took a bath, and passed the day as usual. In the evening he retired to rest at his own home.

1.10. Conclusion 2. PHAEDRUS When Alcibiades had finished, there was a laugh at his out- spokenness; for he seemed to be still in love with Socrates. PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: Socrates, Phaedrus. You are sober, Alcibiades, said Socrates, or you would never SCENE: Under a plane-tree, by the banks of the Ilissus. have gone so far about to hide the purpose of your satyr’s SOCRATES: My dear Phaedrus, whence come you, and praises, for all this long story is only an ingenious circum- whither are you going? locution, of which the point comes in by the way at the end; PHAEDRUS: I come from Lysias the son of Cephalus, and you want to get up a quarrel between me and Agathon, and I am going to take a walk outside the wall, for I have been your notion is that I ought to love you and nobody else, and sitting with him the whole morning; and our common friend that you and you only ought to love Agathon. But the plot of Acumenus tells me that it is much more refreshing to walk in this Satyric or Silenic drama has been detected, and you must the open air than to be shut up in a cloister. not allow him, Agathon, to set us at variance. SOCRATES: There he is right. Lysias then, I suppose, was I believe you are right, said Agathon, and I am disposed to in the town? think that his intention in placing himself between you and me PHAEDRUS: Yes, he was staying with Epicrates, here at the was only to divide us; but he shall gain nothing by that move; house of Morychus; that house which is near the temple of for I will go and lie on the couch next to you. Olympian Zeus. Yes, yes, replied Socrates, by all means come here and lie SOCRATES: And how did he entertain you? Can I be wrong on the couch below me. in supposing that Lysias gave you a feast of discourse? Alas, said Alcibiades, how I am fooled by this man; he is PHAEDRUS: You shall hear, if you can spare time to ac- determined to get the better of me at every turn. I do beseech company me. you, allow Agathon to lie between us. SOCRATES: And should I not deem the conversation of you Certainly not, said Socrates, as you praised me, and I in turn and Lysias ’a thing of higher import,’ as I may say in the words ought to praise my neighbour on the right, he will be out of of Pindar, ’than any business’? order in praising me again when he ought rather to be praised PHAEDRUS: Will you go on? by me, and I must entreat you to consent to this, and not be SOCRATES: And will you go on with the narration? jealous, for I have a great desire to praise the youth. PHAEDRUS: My tale, Socrates, is one of your sort, for love Hurrah! cried Agathon, I will rise instantly, that I may be was the theme which occupied usÐlove after a fashion: Lysias praised by Socrates. has been writing about a fair youth who was being tempted, The usual way, said Alcibiades; where Socrates is, no one but not by a lover; and this was the point: he ingeniously else has any chance with the fair; and now how readily has he proved that the non-lover should be accepted rather than the invented a specious reason for attracting Agathon to himself. lover. Agathon arose in order that he might take his place on the SOCRATES: O that is noble of him! I wish that he would couch by Socrates, when suddenly a band of revellers en- say the poor man rather than the rich, and the old man rather tered, and spoiled the order of the banquet. Some one who than the young one;Ðthen he would meet the case of me and was going out having left the door open, they had found their of many a man; his words would be quite refreshing, and he 21 would be a public benefactor. For my part, I do so long to hear SOCRATES: Yes. his speech, that if you walk all the way to Megara, and when PHAEDRUS: There are shade and gentle breezes, and grass you have reached the wall come back, as Herodicus recom- on which we may either sit or lie down. mends, without going in, I will keep you company. SOCRATES: Move forward. PHAEDRUS: What do you mean, my good Socrates? How PHAEDRUS: I should like to know, Socrates, whether the can you imagine that my unpractised memory can do justice place is not somewhere here at which Boreas is said to have to an elaborate work, which the greatest rhetorician of the age carried off Orithyia from the banks of the Ilissus? spent a long time in composing. Indeed, I cannot; I would SOCRATES: Such is the tradition. give a great deal if I could. PHAEDRUS: And is this the exact spot? The little stream is SOCRATES: I believe that I know Phaedrus about as well as delightfully clear and bright; I can fancy that there might be I know myself, and I am very sure that the speech of Lysias maidens playing near. was repeated to him, not once only, but again and again;Ðhe SOCRATES: I believe that the spot is not exactly here, but insisted on hearing it many times over and Lysias was very about a quarter of a mile lower down, where you cross to the willing to gratify him; at last, when nothing else would do, he temple of Artemis, and there is, I think, some sort of an altar got hold of the book, and looked at what he most wanted to of Boreas at the place. see,Ð this occupied him during the whole morning;Ðand then PHAEDRUS: I have never noticed it; but I beseech you to when he was tired with sitting, he went out to take a walk, tell me, Socrates, do you believe this tale? not until, by the dog, as I believe, he had simply learned by SOCRATES: The wise are doubtful, and I should not be sin- heart the entire discourse, unless it was unusually long, and gular if, like them, I too doubted. I might have a rational ex- he went to a place outside the wall that he might practise his planation that Orithyia was playing with Pharmacia, when a lesson. There he saw a certain lover of discourse who had northern gust carried her over the neighbouring rocks; and this a similar weakness;Ðhe saw and rejoiced; now thought he, ’I being the manner of her death, she was said to have been car- shall have a partner in my revels.’ And he invited him to come ried away by Boreas. There is a discrepancy, however, about and walk with him. But when the lover of discourse begged the locality; according to another version of the story she was that he would repeat the tale, he gave himself airs and said, taken from Areopagus, and not from this place. Now I quite ’No I cannot,’ as if he were indisposed; although, if the hearer acknowledge that these allegories are very nice, but he is not had refused, he would sooner or later have been compelled by to be envied who has to invent them; much labour and inge- him to listen whether he would or no. Therefore, Phaedrus, nuity will be required of him; and when he has once begun, bid him do at once what he will soon do whether bidden or he must go on and rehabilitate Hippocentaurs and chimeras not. dire. Gorgons and winged steeds flow in apace, and number- PHAEDRUS: I see that you will not let me off until I speak less other inconceivable and portentous natures. And if he is in some fashion or other; verily therefore my best plan is to sceptical about them, and would fain reduce them one after speak as I best can. another to the rules of probability, this sort of crude philoso- SOCRATES: A very true remark, that of yours. phy will take up a great deal of time. Now I have no leisure PHAEDRUS: I will do as I say; but believe me, Socrates, for such enquiries; shall I tell you why? I must first know my- I did not learn the very wordsÐO no; nevertheless I have a self, as the Delphian inscription says; to be curious about that general notion of what he said, and will give you a summary which is not my concern, while I am still in ignorance of my of the points in which the lover differed from the non-lover. own self, would be ridiculous. And therefore I bid farewell to Let me begin at the beginning. all this; the common opinion is enough for me. For, as I was SOCRATES: Yes, my sweet one; but you must first of all saying, I want to know not about this, but about myself: am show what you have in your left hand under your cloak, for I a monster more complicated and swollen with passion than that roll, as I suspect, is the actual discourse. Now, much as the serpent Typho, or a creature of a gentler and simpler sort, I love you, I would not have you suppose that I am going to whom Nature has given a diviner and lowlier destiny? But to have your memory exercised at my expense, if you have let me ask you, friend: have we not reached the plane-tree to Lysias himself here. which you were conducting us? PHAEDRUS: Enough; I see that I have no hope of practising PHAEDRUS: Yes, this is the tree. my art upon you. But if I am to read, where would you please SOCRATES: By Here, a fair resting-place, full of summer to sit? sounds and scents. Here is this lofty and spreading plane-tree, SOCRATES: Let us turn aside and go by the Ilissus; we will and the agnus castus high and clustering, in the fullest blos- sit down at some quiet spot. som and the greatest fragrance; and the stream which flows PHAEDRUS: I am fortunate in not having my sandals, and beneath the plane-tree is deliciously cold to the feet. Judging as you never have any, I think that we may go along the brook from the ornaments and images, this must be a spot sacred to and cool our feet in the water; this will be the easiest way, and Achelous and the Nymphs. How delightful is the breeze:Ðso at midday and in the summer is far from being unpleasant. very sweet; and there is a sound in the air shrill and summer- SOCRATES: Lead on, and look out for a place in which we like which makes answer to the chorus of the cicadae. But the can sit down. greatest charm of all is the grass, like a pillow gently sloping PHAEDRUS: Do you see the tallest plane-tree in the dis- to the head. My dear Phaedrus, you have been an admirable tance? guide. 22

PHAEDRUS: What an incomprehensible being you are, emulous of him as he is of them, will boast to some one of Socrates: when you are in the country, as you say, you really his successes, and make a show of them openly in the pride are like some stranger who is led about by a guide. Do you of his heart;Ðhe wants others to know that his labour has not ever cross the border? I rather think that you never venture been lost; but the non-lover is more his own master, and is even outside the gates. desirous of solid good, and not of the opinion of mankind. SOCRATES: Very true, my good friend; and I hope that you Again, the lover may be generally noted or seen following the will excuse me when you hear the reason, which is, that I am a beloved (this is his regular occupation), and whenever they are lover of knowledge, and the men who dwell in the city are my observed to exchange two words they are supposed to meet teachers, and not the trees or the country. Though I do indeed about some affair of love either past or in contemplation; but believe that you have found a spell with which to draw me out when non-lovers meet, no one asks the reason why, because of the city into the country, like a hungry cow before whom a people know that talking to another is natural, whether friend- bough or a bunch of fruit is waved. For only hold up before ship or mere pleasure be the motive. Once more, if you fear me in like manner a book, and you may lead me all round the fickleness of friendship, consider that in any other case a Attica, and over the wide world. And now having arrived, I quarrel might be a mutual calamity; but now, when you have intend to lie down, and do you choose any posture in which given up what is most precious to you, you will be the greater you can read best. Begin. loser, and therefore, you will have more reason in being afraid of the lover, for his vexations are many, and he is always fan- cying that every one is leagued against him. Wherefore also he debars his beloved from society; he will not have you inti- 2.1. The Speech of Lysias mate with the wealthy, lest they should exceed him in wealth, or with men of education, lest they should be his superiors in PHAEDRUS: Listen. You know how matters stand with me; understanding; and he is equally afraid of anybody’s influence and how, as I conceive, this affair may be arranged for the who has any other advantage over himself. If he can persuade advantage of both of us. And I maintain that I ought not to you to break with them, you are left without a friend in the fail in my suit, because I am not your lover: for lovers repent world; or if, out of a regard to your own interest, you have of the kindnesses which they have shown when their passion more sense than to comply with his desire, you will have to ceases, but to the non-lovers who are free and not under any quarrel with him. But those who are non-lovers, and whose compulsion, no time of repentance ever comes; for they con- success in love is the reward of their merit, will not be jealous fer their benefits according to the measure of their ability, in of the companions of their beloved, and will rather hate those the way which is most conducive to their own interest. Then who refuse to be his associates, thinking that their favourite again, lovers consider how by reason of their love they have is slighted by the latter and benefited by the former; for more neglected their own concerns and rendered service to others: love than hatred may be expected to come to him out of his and when to these benefits conferred they add on the trou- friendship with others. Many lovers too have loved the person bles which they have endured, they think that they have long of a youth before they knew his character or his belongings; ago made to the beloved a very ample return. But the non- so that when their passion has passed away, there is no know- lover has no such tormenting recollections; he has never ne- ing whether they will continue to be his friends; whereas, in glected his affairs or quarrelled with his relations; he has no the case of non-lovers who were always friends, the friendship troubles to add up or excuses to invent; and being well rid of is not lessened by the favours granted; but the recollection of all these evils, why should he not freely do what will gratify these remains with them, and is an earnest of good things to the beloved? If you say that the lover is more to be esteemed, come. because his love is thought to be greater; for he is willing to say and do what is hateful to other men, in order to please his Further, I say that you are likely to be improved by me, beloved;Ðthat, if true, is only a proof that he will prefer any whereas the lover will spoil you. For they praise your words future love to his present, and will injure his old love at the and actions in a wrong way; partly, because they are afraid of pleasure of the new. And how, in a matter of such infinite im- offending you, and also, their judgment is weakened by pas- portance, can a man be right in trusting himself to one who sion. Such are the feats which love exhibits; he makes things is afflicted with a malady which no experienced person would painful to the disappointed which give no pain to others; he attempt to cure, for the patient himself admits that he is not compels the successful lover to praise what ought not to give in his right mind, and acknowledges that he is wrong in his him pleasure, and therefore the beloved is to be pitied rather mind, but says that he is unable to control himself? And if than envied. But if you listen to me, in the first place, I, in my he came to his right mind, would he ever imagine that the de- intercourse with you, shall not merely regard present enjoy- sires were good which he conceived when in his wrong mind? ment, but also future advantage, being not mastered by love, Once more, there are many more non-lovers than lovers; and but my own master; nor for small causes taking violent dis- if you choose the best of the lovers, you will not have many likes, but even when the cause is great, slowly laying up little to choose from; but if from the non-lovers, the choice will be wrathÐ unintentional offences I shall forgive, and intentional larger, and you will be far more likely to find among them a ones I shall try to prevent; and these are the marks of a friend- person who is worthy of your friendship. If public opinion ship which will last. be your dread, and you would avoid reproach, in all proba- Do you think that a lover only can be a firm friend? reflect:– bility the lover, who is always thinking that other men are as if this were true, we should set small value on sons, or fathers, 23 or mothers; nor should we ever have loyal friends, for our love willingly submit to your better judgment, for I am not wor- of them arises not from passion, but from other associations. thy to form an opinion, having only attended to the rhetori- Further, if we ought to shower favours on those who are the cal manner; and I was doubting whether this could have been most eager suitors,Ðon that principle, we ought always to do defended even by Lysias himself; I thought, though I speak good, not to the most virtuous, but to the most needy; for they under correction, that he repeated himself two or three times, are the persons who will be most relieved, and will therefore either from want of words or from want of pains; and also, he be the most grateful; and when you make a feast you should appeared to me ostentatiously to exult in showing how well he invite not your friend, but the beggar and the empty soul; for could say the same thing in two or three ways. they will love you, and attend you, and come about your doors, PHAEDRUS: Nonsense, Socrates; what you call repetition and will be the best pleased, and the most grateful, and will was the especial merit of the speech; for he omitted no topic invoke many a blessing on your head. Yet surely you ought not of which the subject rightly allowed, and I do not think that to be granting favours to those who besiege you with prayer, any one could have spoken better or more exhaustively. but to those who are best able to reward you; nor to the lover SOCRATES: There I cannot go along with you. Ancient only, but to those who are worthy of love; nor to those who sages, men and women, who have spoken and written of these will enjoy the bloom of your youth, but to those who will things, would rise up in judgment against me, if out of com- share their possessions with you in age; nor to those who, plaisance I assented to you. having succeeded, will glory in their success to others, but PHAEDRUS: Who are they, and where did you hear any- to those who will be modest and tell no tales; nor to those thing better than this? who care about you for a moment only, but to those who will SOCRATES: I am sure that I must have heard; but at this continue your friends through life; nor to those who, when moment I do not remember from whom; perhaps from Sap- their passion is over, will pick a quarrel with you, but rather to pho the fair, or Anacreon the wise; or, possibly, from a prose those who, when the charm of youth has left you, will show writer. Why do I say so? Why, because I perceive that my their own virtue. Remember what I have said; and consider bosom is full, and that I could make another speech as good yet this further point: friends admonish the lover under the as that of Lysias, and different. Now I am certain that this is idea that his way of life is bad, but no one of his kindred ever not an invention of my own, who am well aware that I know yet censured the non-lover, or thought that he was ill-advised nothing, and therefore I can only infer that I have been filled about his own interests. through the ears, like a pitcher, from the waters of another, ’Perhaps you will ask me whether I propose that you should though I have actually forgotten in my stupidity who was my indulge every non-lover. To which I reply that not even the informant. lover would advise you to indulge all lovers, for the indis- PHAEDRUS: That is grand:Ðbut never mind where you criminate favour is less esteemed by the rational recipient, and heard the discourse or from whom; let that be a mystery not less easily hidden by him who would escape the censure of the to be divulged even at my earnest desire. Only, as you say, world. Now love ought to be for the advantage of both parties, promise to make another and better oration, equal in length and for the injury of neither. and entirely new, on the same subject; and I, like the nine Ar- ’I believe that I have said enough; but if there is anything chons, will promise to set up a golden image at Delphi, not more which you desire or which in your opinion needs to be only of myself, but of you, and as large as life. supplied, ask and I will answer.’ SOCRATES: You are a dear golden ass if you suppose me Now, Socrates, what do you think? Is not the discourse to mean that Lysias has altogether missed the mark, and that excellent, more especially in the matter of the language? I can make a speech from which all his arguments are to be excluded. The worst of authors will say something which is to the point. Who, for example, could speak on this thesis 2.2. The First Interlude of yours without praising the discretion of the non-lover and blaming the indiscretion of the lover? These are the common- SOCRATES: Yes, quite admirable; the effect on me was rav- places of the subject which must come in (for what else is ishing. And this I owe to you, Phaedrus, for I observed you there to be said?) and must be allowed and excused; the only while reading to be in an ecstasy, and thinking that you are merit is in the arrangement of them, for there can be none in more experienced in these matters than I am, I followed your the invention; but when you leave the commonplaces, then example, and, like you, my divine darling, I became inspired there may be some originality. with a phrenzy. PHAEDRUS: I admit that there is reason in what you say, PHAEDRUS: Indeed, you are pleased to be merry. and I too will be reasonable, and will allow you to start with SOCRATES: Do you mean that I am not in earnest? the premiss that the lover is more disordered in his wits than PHAEDRUS: Now don’t talk in that way, Socrates, but let the non-lover; if in what remains you make a longer and better me have your real opinion; I adjure you, by Zeus, the god of speech than Lysias, and use other arguments, then I say again, friendship, to tell me whether you think that any Hellene could that a statue you shall have of beaten gold, and take your place have said more or spoken better on the same subject. by the colossal offerings of the Cypselids at Olympia. SOCRATES: Well, but are you and I expected to praise the SOCRATES: How profoundly in earnest is the lover, be- sentiments of the author, or only the clearness, and roundness, cause to tease him I lay a finger upon his love! And so, Phae- and finish, and tournure of the language? As to the first I drus, you really imagine that I am going to improve upon the 24 ingenuity of Lysias? come to an understanding at first because they think that they PHAEDRUS: There I have you as you had me, and you know, they end, as might be expected, in contradicting one must just speak ’as you best can.’ Do not let us exchange another and themselves. Now you and I must not be guilty of ’tu quoque’ as in a farce, or compel me to say to you as you this fundamental error which we condemn in others; but as our said to me, ’I know Socrates as well as I know myself, and question is whether the lover or non-lover is to be preferred, he was wanting to speak, but he gave himself airs.’ Rather I let us first of all agree in defining the nature and power of love, would have you consider that from this place we stir not un- and then, keeping our eyes upon the definition and to this ap- til you have unbosomed yourself of the speech; for here are pealing, let us further enquire whether love brings advantage we all alone, and I am stronger, remember, and younger than or disadvantage. you:ÐWherefore perpend, and do not compel me to use vio- ’Every one sees that love is a desire, and we know also that lence. non-lovers desire the beautiful and good. Now in what way is SOCRATES: But, my sweet Phaedrus, how ridiculous it the lover to be distinguished from the non-lover? Let us note would be of me to compete with Lysias in an extempore that in every one of us there are two guiding and ruling princi- speech! He is a master in his art and I am an untaught man. ples which lead us whither they will; one is the natural desire PHAEDRUS: You see how matters stand; and therefore let of pleasure, the other is an acquired opinion which aspires there be no more pretences; for, indeed, I know the word that after the best; and these two are sometimes in harmony and is irresistible. then again at war, and sometimes the one, sometimes the other SOCRATES: Then don’t say it. conquers. When opinion by the help of reason leads us to the PHAEDRUS: Yes, but I will; and my word shall be an oath. best, the conquering principle is called temperance; but when ’I say, or rather swear’–but what god will be witness of my desire, which is devoid of reason, rules in us and drags us to oath?–’By this plane- tree I swear, that unless you repeat the pleasure, that power of misrule is called excess. Now excess discourse here in the face of this very plane-tree, I will never has many names, and many members, and many forms, and tell you another; never let you have word of another!’ any of these forms when very marked gives a name, neither SOCRATES: Villain! I am conquered; the poor lover of dis- honourable nor creditable, to the bearer of the name. The de- course has no more to say. sire of eating, for example, which gets the better of the higher PHAEDRUS: Then why are you still at your tricks? reason and the other desires, is called gluttony, and he who SOCRATES: I am not going to play tricks now that you have is possessed by it is called a glutton; the tyrannical desire of taken the oath, for I cannot allow myself to be starved. drink, which inclines the possessor of the desire to drink, has PHAEDRUS: Proceed. a name which is only too obvious, and there can be as little SOCRATES: Shall I tell you what I will do? doubt by what name any other appetite of the same family PHAEDRUS: What? would be called;Ðit will be the name of that which happens SOCRATES: I will veil my face and gallop through the dis- to be dominant. And now I think that you will perceive the course as fast as I can, for if I see you I shall feel ashamed and drift of my discourse; but as every spoken word is in a man- not know what to say. ner plainer than the unspoken, I had better say further that PHAEDRUS: Only go on and you may do anything else the irrational desire which overcomes the tendency of opin- which you please. ion towards right, and is led away to the enjoyment of beauty, and especially of personal beauty, by the desires which are her own kindredÐthat supreme desire, I say, which by leading 2.3. The First Speech of Socrates conquers and by the force of passion is reinforced, from this very force, receiving a name, is called love (erromenos eros).’ SOCRATES: Come, O ye Muses, melodious, as ye are And now, dear Phaedrus, I shall pause for an instant to ask called, whether you have received this name from the charac- whether you do not think me, as I appear to myself, inspired? ter of your strains, or because the Melians are a musical race, PHAEDRUS: Yes, Socrates, you seem to have a very un- help, O help me in the tale which my good friend here de- usual flow of words. sires me to rehearse, in order that his friend whom he always SOCRATES: Listen to me, then, in silence; for surely the deemed wise may seem to him to be wiser than ever. place is holy; so that you must not wonder, if, as I proceed, Once upon a time there was a fair boy, or, more properly I appear to be in a divine fury, for already I am getting into speaking, a youth; he was very fair and had a great many dithyrambics. lovers; and there was one special cunning one, who had per- PHAEDRUS: Nothing can be truer. suaded the youth that he did not love him, but he really loved SOCRATES: The responsibility rests with you. But hear him all the same; and one day when he was paying his ad- what follows, and perhaps the fit may be averted; all is in their dresses to him, he used this very argumentÐthat he ought to hands above. I will go on talking to my youth. Listen:Ð accept the non-lover rather than the lover; his words were as Thus, my friend, we have declared and defined the nature of follows:Ð the subject. Keeping the definition in view, let us now enquire ’All good counsel begins in the same way; a man should what advantage or disadvantage is likely to ensue from the know what he is advising about, or his counsel will all come lover or the non-lover to him who accepts their advances. to nought. But people imagine that they know about the nature He who is the victim of his passions and the slave of plea- of things, when they don’t know about them, and, not having sure will of course desire to make his beloved as agreeable 25 to himself as possible. Now to him who has a mind diseased an extremely disagreeable companion. The old proverb says anything is agreeable which is not opposed to him, but that that ’birds of a feather flock together’; I suppose that equal- which is equal or superior is hateful to him, and therefore the ity of years inclines them to the same pleasures, and similarity lover will not brook any superiority or equality on the part of begets friendship; yet you may have more than enough even of his beloved; he is always employed in reducing him to inferi- this; and verily constraint is always said to be grievous. Now ority. And the ignorant is the inferior of the wise, the coward the lover is not only unlike his beloved, but he forces himself of the brave, the slow of speech of the speaker, the dull of upon him. For he is old and his love is young, and neither day the clever. These, and not these only, are the mental defects nor night will he leave him if he can help; necessity and the of the beloved;Ðdefects which, when implanted by nature, are sting of desire drive him on, and allure him with the pleasure necessarily a delight to the lover, and when not implanted, which he receives from seeing, hearing, touching, perceiving he must contrive to implant them in him, if he would not be him in every way. And therefore he is delighted to fasten upon deprived of his fleeting joy. And therefore he cannot help be- him and to minister to him. But what pleasure or consolation ing jealous, and will debar his beloved from the advantages of can the beloved be receiving all this time? Must he not feel society which would make a man of him, and especially from the extremity of disgust when he looks at an old shrivelled that society which would have given him wisdom, and thereby face and the remainder to match, which even in a description he cannot fail to do him great harm. That is to say, in his ex- is disagreeable, and quite detestable when he is forced into cessive fear lest he should come to be despised in his eyes he daily contact with his lover; moreover he is jealously watched will be compelled to banish from him divine philosophy; and and guarded against everything and everybody, and has to hear there is no greater injury which he can inflict upon him than misplaced and exaggerated praises of himself, and censures this. He will contrive that his beloved shall be wholly igno- equally inappropriate, which are intolerable when the man is rant, and in everything shall look to him; he is to be the delight sober, and, besides being intolerable, are published all over of the lover’s heart, and a curse to himself. Verily, a lover is a the world in all their indelicacy and wearisomeness when he profitable guardian and associate for him in all that relates to is drunk. his mind. And not only while his love continues is he mischievous Let us next see how his master, whose law of life is pleasure and unpleasant, but when his love ceases he becomes a per- and not good, will keep and train the body of his servant. Will fidious enemy of him on whom he showered his oaths and he not choose a beloved who is delicate rather than sturdy prayers and promises, and yet could hardly prevail upon him and strong? One brought up in shady bowers and not in the to tolerate the tedium of his company even from motives of bright sun, a stranger to manly exercises and the sweat of toil, interest. The hour of payment arrives, and now he is the ser- accustomed only to a soft and luxurious diet, instead of the vant of another master; instead of love and infatuation, wis- hues of health having the colours of paint and ornament, and dom and temperance are his bosom’s lords; but the beloved the rest of a piece?Ðsuch a life as any one can imagine and has not discovered the change which has taken place in him, which I need not detail at length. But I may sum up all that when he asks for a return and recalls to his recollection for- I have to say in a word, and pass on. Such a person in war, mer sayings and doings; he believes himself to be speaking or in any of the great crises of life, will be the anxiety of his to the same person, and the other, not having the courage to friends and also of his lover, and certainly not the terror of his confess the truth, and not knowing how to fulfil the oaths and enemies; which nobody can deny. promises which he made when under the dominion of folly, And now let us tell what advantage or disadvantage the and having now grown wise and temperate, does not want to beloved will receive from the guardianship and society of his do as he did or to be as he was before. And so he runs away lover in the matter of his property; this is the next point to and is constrained to be a defaulter; the oyster-shell (In allu- be considered. The lover will be the first to see what, indeed, sion to a game in which two parties fled or pursued according will be sufficiently evident to all men, that he desires above all as an oyster-shell which was thrown into the air fell with the things to deprive his beloved of his dearest and best and holi- dark or light side uppermost.) has fallen with the other side est possessions, father, mother, kindred, friends, of all whom uppermostÐhe changes pursuit into flight, while the other is he thinks may be hinderers or reprovers of their most sweet compelled to follow him with passion and imprecation, not converse; he will even cast a jealous eye upon his gold and knowing that he ought never from the first to have accepted silver or other property, because these make him a less easy a demented lover instead of a sensible non-lover; and that in prey, and when caught less manageable; hence he is of neces- making such a choice he was giving himself up to a faith- sity displeased at his possession of them and rejoices at their less, morose, envious, disagreeable being, hurtful to his es- loss; and he would like him to be wifeless, childless, home- tate, hurtful to his bodily health, and still more hurtful to the less, as well; and the longer the better, for the longer he is all cultivation of his mind, than which there neither is nor ever this, the longer he will enjoy him. will be anything more honoured in the eyes both of gods and There are some sort of animals, such as flatterers, who are men. Consider this, fair youth, and know that in the friendship dangerous and mischievous enough, and yet nature has min- of the lover there is no real kindness; he has an appetite and gled a temporary pleasure and grace in their composition. You wants to feed upon you: may say that a courtesan is hurtful, and disapprove of such creatures and their practices, and yet for the time they are very ’As wolves love lambs so lovers love their pleasant. But the lover is not only hurtful to his love; he is also loves.’ 26

But I told you so, I am speaking in verse, and therefore I had SOCRATES: But that was not acknowledged by Lysias in better make an end; enough. his speech, nor by you in that other speech which you by a charm drew from my lips. For if love be, as he surely is, a divinity, he cannot be evil. Yet this was the error of both 2.4. The Second Interlude. The Palinode the speeches. There was also a simplicity about them which was refreshing; having no truth or honesty in them, neverthe- less they pretended to be something, hoping to succeed in de- PHAEDRUS: I thought that you were only half-way and ceiving the manikins of earth and gain celebrity among them. were going to make a similar speech about all the advantages Wherefore I must have a purgation. And I bethink me of an of accepting the non-lover. Why do you not proceed? ancient purgation of mythological error which was devised, SOCRATES: Does not your simplicity observe that I have not by Homer, for he never had the wit to discover why he got out of dithyrambics into heroics, when only uttering a cen- was blind, but by Stesichorus, who was a philosopher and sure on the lover? And if I am to add the praises of the non- knew the reason why; and therefore, when he lost his eyes, lover what will become of me? Do you not perceive that I for that was the penalty which was inflicted upon him for re- am already overtaken by the Nymphs to whom you have mis- viling the lovely Helen, he at once purged himself. And the chievously exposed me? And therefore I will only add that purgation was a recantation, which began thus,Ð the non-lover has all the advantages in which the lover is ac- cused of being deficient. And now I will say no more; there ’False is that word of mineÐthe truth is that has been enough of both of them. Leaving the tale to its fate, thou didst not embark in ships, nor ever go to the I will cross the river and make the best of my way home, lest walls of Troy;’ a worse thing be inflicted upon me by you. PHAEDRUS: Not yet, Socrates; not until the heat of the day and when he had completed his poem, which is called ’the has passed; do you not see that the hour is almost noon? there recantation,’ immediately his sight returned to him. Now I is the midday sun standing still, as people say, in the meridian. will be wiser than either Stesichorus or Homer, in that I am Let us rather stay and talk over what has been said, and then going to make my recantation for reviling love before I suffer; return in the cool. and this I will attempt, not as before, veiled and ashamed, but SOCRATES: Your love of discourse, Phaedrus, is superhu- with forehead bold and bare. man, simply marvellous, and I do not believe that there is any PHAEDRUS: Nothing could be more agreeable to me than one of your contemporaries who has either made or in one to hear you say so. way or another has compelled others to make an equal num- SOCRATES: Only think, my good Phaedrus, what an utter ber of speeches. I would except Simmias the Theban, but all want of delicacy was shown in the two discourses; I mean, in the rest are far behind you. And now I do verily believe that my own and in that which you recited out of the book. Would you have been the cause of another. not any one who was himself of a noble and gentle nature, and PHAEDRUS: That is good news. But what do you mean? who loved or ever had loved a nature like his own, when we tell of the petty causes of lovers’ jealousies, and of their ex- SOCRATES: I mean to say that as I was about to cross the ceeding animosities, and of the injuries which they do to their stream the usual sign was given to me,Ðthat sign which always beloved, have imagined that our ideas of love were taken from forbids, but never bids, me to do anything which I am going some haunt of sailors to which good manners were unknownÐ to do; and I thought that I heard a voice saying in my ear that he would certainly never have admitted the justice of our cen- I had been guilty of impiety, and that I must not go away until sure? I had made an atonement. Now I am a diviner, though not a very good one, but I have enough religion for my own use, PHAEDRUS: I dare say not, Socrates. as you might say of a bad writerÐhis writing is good enough SOCRATES: Therefore, because I blush at the thought of for him; and I am beginning to see that I was in error. O my this person, and also because I am afraid of Love himself, I friend, how prophetic is the human soul! At the time I had a desire to wash the brine out of my ears with water from the sort of misgiving, and, like Ibycus, ’I was troubled; I feared spring; and I would counsel Lysias not to delay, but to write that I might be buying honour from men at the price of sinning another discourse, which shall prove that ’ceteris paribus’ the against the gods.’ Now I recognize my error. lover ought to be accepted rather than the non-lover. PHAEDRUS: Be assured that he shall. You shall speak the PHAEDRUS: What error? praises of the lover, and Lysias shall be compelled by me to SOCRATES: That was a dreadful speech which you brought write another discourse on the same theme. with you, and you made me utter one as bad. SOCRATES: You will be true to your nature in that, and PHAEDRUS: How so? therefore I believe you. SOCRATES: It was foolish, I say,Ðto a certain extent, impi- PHAEDRUS: Speak, and fear not. ous; can anything be more dreadful? SOCRATES: But where is the fair youth whom I was ad- PHAEDRUS: Nothing, if the speech was really such as you dressing before, and who ought to listen now; lest, if he hear describe. me not, he should accept a non- lover before he knows what SOCRATES: Well, and is not Eros the son of Aphrodite, and he is doing? a god? PHAEDRUS: He is close at hand, and always at your ser- PHAEDRUS: So men say. vice. 27

2.5. The Second Speech of Socrates I might tell of many other noble deeds which have sprung from inspired madness. And therefore, let no one frighten or SOCRATES: Know then, fair youth, that the former dis- flutter us by saying that the temperate friend is to be chosen course was the word of Phaedrus, the son of Vain Man, who rather than the inspired, but let him further show that love is dwells in the city of Myrrhina (Myrrhinusius). And this which not sent by the gods for any good to lover or beloved; if he can I am about to utter is the recantation of Stesichorus the son of do so we will allow him to carry off the palm. And we, on our Godly Man (Euphemus), who comes from the town of Desire part, will prove in answer to him that the madness of love is (Himera), and is to the following effect: ’I told a lie when I the greatest of heaven’s blessings, and the proof shall be one said’ that the beloved ought to accept the non-lover when he which the wise will receive, and the witling disbelieve. But might have the lover, because the one is sane, and the other first of all, let us view the affections and actions of the soul mad. It might be so if madness were simply an evil; but there divine and human, and try to ascertain the truth about them. is also a madness which is a divine gift, and the source of the The beginning of our proof is as follows:- chiefest blessings granted to men. For prophecy is a madness, The soul through all her being is immortal, for that which and the prophetess at Delphi and the priestesses at Dodona is ever in motion is immortal; but that which moves another when out of their senses have conferred great benefits on Hel- and is moved by another, in ceasing to move ceases also to las, both in public and private life, but when in their senses live. Only the self-moving, never leaving self, never ceases to few or none. And I might also tell you how the Sibyl and move, and is the fountain and beginning of motion to all that other inspired persons have given to many an one many an in- moves besides. Now, the beginning is unbegotten, for that timation of the future which has saved them from falling. But which is begotten has a beginning; but the beginning is begot- it would be tedious to speak of what every one knows. ten of nothing, for if it were begotten of something, then the There will be more reason in appealing to the ancient in- begotten would not come from a beginning. But if unbegotten, ventors of names (compare Cratylus), who would never have it must also be indestructible; for if beginning were destroyed, connected prophecy (mantike) which foretells the future and there could be no beginning out of anything, nor anything out is the noblest of arts, with madness (manike), or called them of a beginning; and all things must have a beginning. And both by the same name, if they had deemed madness to be therefore the self- moving is the beginning of motion; and this a disgrace or dishonour;Ðthey must have thought that there can neither be destroyed nor begotten, else the whole heav- was an inspired madness which was a noble thing; for the two ens and all creation would collapse and stand still, and never words, mantike and manike, are really the same, and the letter again have motion or birth. But if the self-moving is proved to tau is only a modern and tasteless insertion. And this is con- be immortal, he who affirms that self-motion is the very idea firmed by the name which was given by them to the rational and essence of the soul will not be put to confusion. For the investigation of futurity, whether made by the help of birds or body which is moved from without is soulless; but that which of other signsÐthis, for as much as it is an art which supplies is moved from within has a soul, for such is the nature of the from the reasoning faculty mind (nous) and information (isto- soul. But if this be true, must not the soul be the self-moving, ria) to human thought (oiesis) they originally termed oionois- and therefore of necessity unbegotten and immortal? Enough tike, but the word has been lately altered and made sonorous of the soul’s immortality. by the modern introduction of the letter Omega (oionoistike Of the nature of the soul, though her true form be ever a and oionistike), and in proportion as prophecy (mantike) is theme of large and more than mortal discourse, let me speak more perfect and august than augury, both in name and fact, briefly, and in a figure. And let the figure be compositeÐa pair in the same proportion, as the ancients testify, is madness su- of winged horses and a charioteer. Now the winged horses perior to a sane mind (sophrosune) for the one is only of hu- and the charioteers of the gods are all of them noble and of man, but the other of divine origin. Again, where plagues and noble descent, but those of other races are mixed; the human mightiest woes have bred in certain families, owing to some charioteer drives his in a pair; and one of them is noble and of ancient blood-guiltiness, there madness has entered with holy noble breed, and the other is ignoble and of ignoble breed; and prayers and rites, and by inspired utterances found a way of the driving of them of necessity gives a great deal of trouble to deliverance for those who are in need; and he who has part in him. I will endeavour to explain to you in what way the mor- this gift, and is truly possessed and duly out of his mind, is by tal differs from the immortal creature. The soul in her total- the use of purifications and mysteries made whole and exempt ity has the care of inanimate being everywhere, and traverses from evil, future as well as present, and has a release from the the whole heaven in divers forms appearingÐwhen perfect and calamity which was afflicting him. The third kind is the mad- fully winged she soars upward, and orders the whole world; ness of those who are possessed by the Muses; which taking whereas the imperfect soul, losing her wings and drooping in hold of a delicate and virgin soul, and there inspiring frenzy, her flight at last settles on the solid groundÐthere, finding a awakens lyrical and all other numbers; with these adorning the home, she receives an earthly frame which appears to be self- myriad actions of ancient heroes for the instruction of poster- moved, but is really moved by her power; and this composi- ity. But he who, having no touch of the Muses’ madness in tion of soul and body is called a living and mortal creature. his soul, comes to the door and thinks that he will get into For immortal no such union can be reasonably believed to be; the temple by the help of artÐhe, I say, and his poetry are not although fancy, not having seen nor surely known the nature admitted; the sane man disappears and is nowhere when he of God, may imagine an immortal creature having both a body enters into rivalry with the madman. and also a soul which are united throughout all time. Let that, 28 however, be as God wills, and be spoken of acceptably to him. their wings broken through the ill- driving of the charioteers; And now let us ask the reason why the soul loses her wings! and all of them after a fruitless toil, not having attained to the The wing is the corporeal element which is most akin to mysteries of true being, go away, and feed upon opinion. The the divine, and which by nature tends to soar aloft and carry reason why the souls exhibit this exceeding eagerness to be- that which gravitates downwards into the upper region, which hold the plain of truth is that pasturage is found there, which is the habitation of the gods. The divine is beauty, wisdom, is suited to the highest part of the soul; and the wing on which goodness, and the like; and by these the wing of the soul is the soul soars is nourished with this. And there is a law of Des- nourished, and grows apace; but when fed upon evil and foul- tiny, that the soul which attains any vision of truth in company ness and the opposite of good, wastes and falls away. Zeus, the with a god is preserved from harm until the next period, and if mighty lord, holding the reins of a winged chariot, leads the attaining always is always unharmed. But when she is unable way in heaven, ordering all and taking care of all; and there to follow, and fails to behold the truth, and through some ill- follows him the array of gods and demi-gods, marshalled in hap sinks beneath the double load of forgetfulness and vice, eleven bands; Hestia alone abides at home in the house of and her wings fall from her and she drops to the ground, then heaven; of the rest they who are reckoned among the princely the law ordains that this soul shall at her first birth pass, not twelve march in their appointed order. They see many blessed into any other animal, but only into man; and the soul which sights in the inner heaven, and there are many ways to and has seen most of truth shall come to the birth as a philosopher, fro, along which the blessed gods are passing, every one do- or artist, or some musical and loving nature; that which has ing his own work; he may follow who will and can, for jeal- seen truth in the second degree shall be some righteous king ousy has no place in the celestial choir. But when they go to or warrior chief; the soul which is of the third class shall be a banquet and festival, then they move up the steep to the top politician, or economist, or trader; the fourth shall be a lover of the vault of heaven. The chariots of the gods in even poise, of gymnastic toils, or a physician; the fifth shall lead the life obeying the rein, glide rapidly; but the others labour, for the of a prophet or hierophant; to the sixth the character of poet or vicious steed goes heavily, weighing down the charioteer to some other imitative artist will be assigned; to the seventh the the earth when his steed has not been thoroughly trained:Ðand life of an artisan or husbandman; to the eighth that of a sophist this is the hour of agony and extremest conflict for the soul. or demagogue; to the ninth that of a tyrantÐall these are states For the immortals, when they are at the end of their course, go of probation, in which he who does righteously improves, and forth and stand upon the outside of heaven, and the revolution he who does unrighteously, deteriorates his lot. of the spheres carries them round, and they behold the things Ten thousand years must elapse before the soul of each one beyond. But of the heaven which is above the heavens, what can return to the place from whence she came, for she can- earthly poet ever did or ever will sing worthily? It is such as not grow her wings in less; only the soul of a philosopher, I will describe; for I must dare to speak the truth, when truth guileless and true, or the soul of a lover, who is not devoid is my theme. There abides the very being with which true of philosophy, may acquire wings in the third of the recurring knowledge is concerned; the colourless, formless, intangible periods of a thousand years; he is distinguished from the ordi- essence, visible only to mind, the pilot of the soul. The divine nary good man who gains wings in three thousand years:Ðand intelligence, being nurtured upon mind and pure knowledge, they who choose this life three times in succession have wings and the intelligence of every soul which is capable of receiv- given them, and go away at the end of three thousand years. ing the food proper to it, rejoices at beholding reality, and But the others (The philosopher alone is not subject to judg- once more gazing upon truth, is replenished and made glad, ment (krisis), for he has never lost the vision of truth.) receive until the revolution of the worlds brings her round again to the judgment when they have completed their first life, and after same place. In the revolution she beholds justice, and temper- the judgment they go, some of them to the houses of correc- ance, and knowledge absolute, not in the form of generation or tion which are under the earth, and are punished; others to of relation, which men call existence, but knowledge absolute some place in heaven whither they are lightly borne by jus- in existence absolute; and beholding the other true existences tice, and there they live in a manner worthy of the life which in like manner, and feasting upon them, she passes down into they led here when in the form of men. And at the end of the the interior of the heavens and returns home; and there the first thousand years the good souls and also the evil souls both charioteer putting up his horses at the stall, gives them am- come to draw lots and choose their second life, and they may brosia to eat and nectar to drink. take any which they please. The soul of a man may pass into Such is the life of the gods; but of other souls, that which the life of a beast, or from the beast return again into the man. follows God best and is likest to him lifts the head of the char- But the soul which has never seen the truth will not pass into ioteer into the outer world, and is carried round in the revolu- the human form. For a man must have intelligence of uni- tion, troubled indeed by the steeds, and with difficulty behold- versals, and be able to proceed from the many particulars of ing true being; while another only rises and falls, and sees, and sense to one conception of reason;Ðthis is the recollection of again fails to see by reason of the unruliness of the steeds. The those things which our soul once saw while following GodÐ rest of the souls are also longing after the upper world and they when regardless of that which we now call being she raised all follow, but not being strong enough they are carried round her head up towards the true being. And therefore the mind below the surface, plunging, treading on one another, each of the philosopher alone has wings; and this is just, for he is striving to be first; and there is confusion and perspiration and always, according to the measure of his abilities, clinging in the extremity of effort; and many of them are lamed or have recollection to those things in which God abides, and in be- 29 holding which He is what He is. And he who employs aright ashamed of pursuing pleasure in violation of nature. But he these memories is ever being initiated into perfect mysteries whose initiation is recent, and who has been the spectator of and alone becomes truly perfect. But, as he forgets earthly in- many glories in the other world, is amazed when he sees any terests and is rapt in the divine, the vulgar deem him mad, and one having a godlike face or form, which is the expression of rebuke him; they do not see that he is inspired. divine beauty; and at first a shudder runs through him, and Thus far I have been speaking of the fourth and last kind again the old awe steals over him; then looking upon the face of madness, which is imputed to him who, when he sees the of his beloved as of a god he reverences him, and if he were beauty of earth, is transported with the recollection of the true not afraid of being thought a downright madman, he would beauty; he would like to fly away, but he cannot; he is like a sacrifice to his beloved as to the image of a god; then while he bird fluttering and looking upward and careless of the world gazes on him there is a sort of reaction, and the shudder passes below; and he is therefore thought to be mad. And I have into an unusual heat and perspiration; for, as he receives the shown this of all inspirations to be the noblest and highest and effluence of beauty through the eyes, the wing moistens and the offspring of the highest to him who has or shares in it, he warms. And as he warms, the parts out of which the wing and that he who loves the beautiful is called a lover because grew, and which had been hitherto closed and rigid, and had he partakes of it. For, as has been already said, every soul of prevented the wing from shooting forth, are melted, and as man has in the way of nature beheld true being; this was the nourishment streams upon him, the lower end of the wing be- condition of her passing into the form of man. But all souls do gins to swell and grow from the root upwards; and the growth not easily recall the things of the other world; they may have extends under the whole soulÐfor once the whole was winged. seen them for a short time only, or they may have been unfor- During this process the whole soul is all in a state of ebulli- tunate in their earthly lot, and, having had their hearts turned tion and effervescence,Ðwhich may be compared to the irrita- to unrighteousness through some corrupting influence, they tion and uneasiness in the gums at the time of cutting teeth,Ð may have lost the memory of the holy things which once they bubbles up, and has a feeling of uneasiness and tickling; but saw. Few only retain an adequate remembrance of them; and when in like manner the soul is beginning to grow wings, the they, when they behold here any image of that other world, are beauty of the beloved meets her eye and she receives the sen- rapt in amazement; but they are ignorant of what this rapture sible warm motion of particles which flow towards her, there- means, because they do not clearly perceive. For there is no fore called emotion (imeros), and is refreshed and warmed by light of justice or temperance or any of the higher ideas which them, and then she ceases from her pain with joy. But when are precious to souls in the earthly copies of them: they are she is parted from her beloved and her moisture fails, then the seen through a glass dimly; and there are few who, going to orifices of the passage out of which the wing shoots dry up the images, behold in them the realities, and these only with and close, and intercept the germ of the wing; which, being difficulty. There was a time when with the rest of the happy shut up with the emotion, throbbing as with the pulsations of band they saw beauty shining in brightness,Ðwe philosophers an artery, pricks the aperture which is nearest, until at length following in the train of Zeus, others in company with other the entire soul is pierced and maddened and pained, and at the gods; and then we beheld the beatific vision and were initi- recollection of beauty is again delighted. And from both of ated into a mystery which may be truly called most blessed, them together the soul is oppressed at the strangeness of her celebrated by us in our state of innocence, before we had any condition, and is in a great strait and excitement, and in her experience of evils to come, when we were admitted to the madness can neither sleep by night nor abide in her place by sight of apparitions innocent and simple and calm and happy, day. And wherever she thinks that she will behold the beauti- which we beheld shining in pure light, pure ourselves and not ful one, thither in her desire she runs. And when she has seen yet enshrined in that living tomb which we carry about, now him, and bathed herself in the waters of beauty, her constraint that we are imprisoned in the body, like an oyster in his shell. is loosened, and she is refreshed, and has no more pangs and Let me linger over the memory of scenes which have passed pains; and this is the sweetest of all pleasures at the time, and away. is the reason why the soul of the lover will never forsake his beautiful one, whom he esteems above all; he has forgotten But of beauty, I repeat again that we saw her there shin- mother and brethren and companions, and he thinks nothing ing in company with the celestial forms; and coming to earth of the neglect and loss of his property; the rules and proprieties we find her here too, shining in clearness through the clear- of life, on which he formerly prided himself, he now despises, est aperture of sense. For sight is the most piercing of our and is ready to sleep like a servant, wherever he is allowed, as bodily senses; though not by that is wisdom seen; her loveli- near as he can to his desired one, who is the object of his wor- ness would have been transporting if there had been a visible ship, and the physician who can alone assuage the greatness image of her, and the other ideas, if they had visible coun- of his pain. And this state, my dear imaginary youth to whom terparts, would be equally lovely. But this is the privilege of I am talking, is by men called love, and among the gods has beauty, that being the loveliest she is also the most palpable to a name at which you, in your simplicity, may be inclined to sight. Now he who is not newly initiated or who has become mock; there are two lines in the apocryphal writings of Homer corrupted, does not easily rise out of this world to the sight in which the name occurs. One of them is rather outrageous, of true beauty in the other; he looks only at her earthly name- and not altogether metrical. They are as follows: sake, and instead of being awed at the sight of her, he is given over to pleasure, and like a brutish beast he rushes on to enjoy ’Mortals call him fluttering love, But the and beget; he consorts with wantonness, and is not afraid or immortals call him winged one, Because the 30

growing of wings (Or, reading pterothoiton, ’the word and admonition only. The other is a crooked lumbering movement of wings.’) is a necessity to him.’ animal, put together anyhow; he has a short thick neck; he is flat-faced and of a dark colour, with grey eyes and blood- You may believe this, but not unless you like. At any rate the red complexion (Or with grey and blood-shot eyes.); the mate loves of lovers and their causes are such as I have described. of insolence and pride, shag-eared and deaf, hardly yielding Now the lover who is taken to be the attendant of Zeus is to whip and spur. Now when the charioteer beholds the vi- better able to bear the winged god, and can endure a heavier sion of love, and has his whole soul warmed through sense, burden; but the attendants and companions of Ares, when un- and is full of the prickings and ticklings of desire, the obe- der the influence of love, if they fancy that they have been at dient steed, then as always under the government of shame, all wronged, are ready to kill and put an end to themselves refrains from leaping on the beloved; but the other, heedless and their beloved. And he who follows in the train of any of the pricks and of the blows of the whip, plunges and runs other god, while he is unspoiled and the impression lasts, hon- away, giving all manner of trouble to his companion and the ours and imitates him, as far as he is able; and after the man- charioteer, whom he forces to approach the beloved and to re- ner of his God he behaves in his intercourse with his beloved member the joys of love. They at first indignantly oppose him and with the rest of the world during the first period of his and will not be urged on to do terrible and unlawful deeds; earthly existence. Every one chooses his love from the ranks but at last, when he persists in plaguing them, they yield and of beauty according to his character, and this he makes his agree to do as he bids them. And now they are at the spot god, and fashions and adorns as a sort of image which he and behold the flashing beauty of the beloved; which when is to fall down and worship. The followers of Zeus desire the charioteer sees, his memory is carried to the true beauty, that their beloved should have a soul like him; and therefore whom he beholds in company with Modesty like an image they seek out some one of a philosophical and imperial na- placed upon a holy pedestal. He sees her, but he is afraid and ture, and when they have found him and loved him, they do falls backwards in adoration, and by his fall is compelled to all they can to confirm such a nature in him, and if they have pull back the reins with such violence as to bring both the no experience of such a disposition hitherto, they learn of any steeds on their haunches, the one willing and unresisting, the one who can teach them, and themselves follow in the same unruly one very unwilling; and when they have gone back a way. And they have the less difficulty in finding the nature little, the one is overcome with shame and wonder, and his of their own god in themselves, because they have been com- whole soul is bathed in perspiration; the other, when the pain pelled to gaze intensely on him; their recollection clings to is over which the bridle and the fall had given him, having him, and they become possessed of him, and receive from him with difficulty taken breath, is full of wrath and reproaches, their character and disposition, so far as man can participate in which he heaps upon the charioteer and his fellow- steed, for God. The qualities of their god they attribute to the beloved, want of courage and manhood, declaring that they have been wherefore they love him all the more, and if, like the Bacchic false to their agreement and guilty of desertion. Again they Nymphs, they draw inspiration from Zeus, they pour out their refuse, and again he urges them on, and will scarce yield to own fountain upon him, wanting to make him as like as pos- their prayer that he would wait until another time. When the sible to their own god. But those who are the followers of appointed hour comes, they make as if they had forgotten, and Here seek a royal love, and when they have found him they he reminds them, fighting and neighing and dragging them on, do just the same with him; and in like manner the followers until at length he on the same thoughts intent, forces them to of Apollo, and of every other god walking in the ways of their draw near again. And when they are near he stoops his head god, seek a love who is to be made like him whom they serve, and puts up his tail, and takes the bit in his teeth and pulls and when they have found him, they themselves imitate their shamelessly. Then the charioteer is worse off than ever; he god, and persuade their love to do the same, and educate him falls back like a racer at the barrier, and with a still more vi- into the manner and nature of the god as far as they each can; olent wrench drags the bit out of the teeth of the wild steed for no feelings of envy or jealousy are entertained by them to- and covers his abusive tongue and jaws with blood, and forces wards their beloved, but they do their utmost to create in him his legs and haunches to the ground and punishes him sorely. the greatest likeness of themselves and of the god whom they And when this has happened several times and the villain has honour. Thus fair and blissful to the beloved is the desire of ceased from his wanton way, he is tamed and humbled, and the inspired lover, and the initiation of which I speak into the follows the will of the charioteer, and when he sees the beau- mysteries of true love, if he be captured by the lover and their tiful one he is ready to die of fear. And from that time forward purpose is effected. Now the beloved is taken captive in the the soul of the lover follows the beloved in modesty and holy following manner:Ð fear. As I said at the beginning of this tale, I divided each soul into threeÐ two horses and a charioteer; and one of the horses And so the beloved who, like a god, has received every true was good and the other bad: the division may remain, but I and loyal service from his lover, not in pretence but in reality, have not yet explained in what the goodness or badness of ei- being also himself of a nature friendly to his admirer, if in for- ther consists, and to that I will now proceed. The right-hand mer days he has blushed to own his passion and turned away horse is upright and cleanly made; he has a lofty neck and an his lover, because his youthful companions or others slander- aquiline nose; his colour is white, and his eyes dark; he is a ously told him that he would be disgraced, now as years ad- lover of honour and modesty and temperance, and the follower vance, at the appointed age and time, is led to receive him into of true glory; he needs no touch of the whip, but is guided by communion. For fate which has ordained that there shall be 31 no friendship among the evil has also ordained that there shall obtain no mean reward of love and madness. For those who ever be friendship among the good. And the beloved when have once begun the heavenward pilgrimage may not go down he has received him into communion and intimacy, is quite again to darkness and the journey beneath the earth, but they amazed at the good-will of the lover; he recognises that the live in light always; happy companions in their pilgrimage, inspired friend is worth all other friends or kinsmen; they have and when the time comes at which they receive their wings nothing of friendship in them worthy to be compared with his. they have the same plumage because of their love. And when this feeling continues and he is nearer to him and Thus great are the heavenly blessings which the friendship embraces him, in gymnastic exercises and at other times of of a lover will confer upon you, my youth. Whereas the at- meeting, then the fountain of that stream, which Zeus when tachment of the non-lover, which is alloyed with a worldly he was in love with Ganymede named Desire, overflows upon prudence and has worldly and niggardly ways of doling out the lover, and some enters into his soul, and some when he benefits, will breed in your soul those vulgar qualities which is filled flows out again; and as a breeze or an echo rebounds the populace applaud, will send you bowling round the earth from the smooth rocks and returns whence it came, so does during a period of nine thousand years, and leave you a fool the stream of beauty, passing through the eyes which are the in the world below. windows of the soul, come back to the beautiful one; there And thus, dear Eros, I have made and paid my recantation, arriving and quickening the passages of the wings, watering as well and as fairly as I could; more especially in the matter them and inclining them to grow, and filling the soul of the of the poetical figures which I was compelled to use, because beloved also with love. And thus he loves, but he knows not Phaedrus would have them. And now forgive the past and ac- what; he does not understand and cannot explain his own state; cept the present, and be gracious and merciful to me, and do he appears to have caught the infection of blindness from an- not in thine anger deprive me of sight, or take from me the other; the lover is his mirror in whom he is beholding himself, art of love which thou hast given me, but grant that I may be but he is not aware of this. When he is with the lover, both yet more esteemed in the eyes of the fair. And if Phaedrus cease from their pain, but when he is away then he longs as or I myself said anything rude in our first speeches, blame he is longed for, and has love’s image, love for love (Anteros) Lysias, who is the father of the brat, and let us have no more of lodging in his breast, which he calls and believes to be not his progeny; bid him study philosophy, like his brother Pole- love but friendship only, and his desire is as the desire of the marchus; and then his lover Phaedrus will no longer halt be- other, but weaker; he wants to see him, touch him, kiss him, tween two opinions, but will dedicate himself wholly to love embrace him, and probably not long afterwards his desire is and to philosophical discourses. accomplished. When they meet, the wanton steed of the lover has a word to say to the charioteer; he would like to have a little pleasure in return for many pains, but the wanton steed 2.6. The Myth of the Cicadas of the beloved says not a word, for he is bursting with pas- sion which he understands not;Ðhe throws his arms round the PHAEDRUS: I join in the prayer, Socrates, and say with lover and embraces him as his dearest friend; and, when they you, if this be for my good, may your words come to pass. But are side by side, he is not in a state in which he can refuse why did you make your second oration so much finer than the the lover anything, if he ask him; although his fellow-steed first? I wonder why. And I begin to be afraid that I shall lose and the charioteer oppose him with the arguments of shame conceit of Lysias, and that he will appear tame in comparison, and reason. After this their happiness depends upon their self- even if he be willing to put another as fine and as long as control; if the better elements of the mind which lead to or- yours into the field, which I doubt. For quite lately one of der and philosophy prevail, then they pass their life here in your politicians was abusing him on this very account; and happiness and harmonyÐmasters of themselves and orderlyÐ called him a ’speech writer’ again and again. So that a feeling enslaving the vicious and emancipating the virtuous elements of pride may probably induce him to give up writing speeches. of the soul; and when the end comes, they are light and winged SOCRATES: What a very amusing notion! But I think, my for flight, having conquered in one of the three heavenly or young man, that you are much mistaken in your friend if you truly Olympian victories; nor can human discipline or divine imagine that he is frightened at a little noise; and, possibly, inspiration confer any greater blessing on man than this. If, on you think that his assailant was in earnest? the other hand, they leave philosophy and lead the lower life PHAEDRUS: I thought, Socrates, that he was. And you of ambition, then probably, after wine or in some other care- are aware that the greatest and most influential statesmen are less hour, the two wanton animals take the two souls when off ashamed of writing speeches and leaving them in a written their guard and bring them together, and they accomplish that form, lest they should be called Sophists by posterity. desire of their hearts which to the many is bliss; and this hav- ing once enjoyed they continue to enjoy, yet rarely because SOCRATES: You seem to be unconscious, Phaedrus, that the ’sweet elbow’ (A proverb, like ’the grapes are sour,’ ap- they have not the approval of the whole soul. They too are dear, but not so dear to one another as the others, either at the plied to pleasures which cannot be had, meaning sweet things which, like the elbow, are out of the reach of the mouth. The time of their love or afterwards. They consider that they have given and taken from each other the most sacred pledges, and promised pleasure turns out to be a long and tedious affair.) of the proverb is really the long arm of the Nile. And you ap- they may not break them and fall into enmity. At last they pass out of the body, unwinged, but eager to soar, and thus pear to be equally unaware of the fact that this sweet elbow of theirs is also a long arm. For there is nothing of which 32 our great politicians are so fond as of writing speeches and they may perhaps, out of respect, give us of the gifts which bequeathing them to posterity. And they add their admirers’ they receive from the gods that they may impart them to men. names at the top of the writing, out of gratitude to them. PHAEDRUS: What gifts do you mean? I never heard of any. PHAEDRUS: What do you mean? I do not understand. SOCRATES: A lover of music like yourself ought surely SOCRATES: Why, do you not know that when a politician to have heard the story of the grasshoppers, who are said to writes, he begins with the names of his approvers? have been human beings in an age before the Muses. And PHAEDRUS: How so? when the Muses came and song appeared they were ravished SOCRATES: Why, he begins in this manner: ’Be it enacted with delight; and singing always, never thought of eating and by the senate, the people, or both, on the motion of a certain drinking, until at last in their forgetfulness they died. And person,’ who is our author; and so putting on a serious face, he now they live again in the grasshoppers; and this is the return proceeds to display his own wisdom to his admirers in what is which the Muses make to themÐthey neither hunger, nor thirst, often a long and tedious composition. Now what is that sort but from the hour of their birth are always singing, and never of thing but a regular piece of authorship? eating or drinking; and when they die they go and inform the PHAEDRUS: True. Muses in heaven who honours them on earth. They win the SOCRATES: And if the law is finally approved, then the au- love of Terpsichore for the dancers by their report of them; thor leaves the theatre in high delight; but if the law is rejected of Erato for the lovers, and of the other Muses for those who and he is done out of his speech-making, and not thought good do them honour, according to the several ways of honouring enough to write, then he and his party are in mourning. them;Ðof Calliope the eldest Muse and of Urania who is next PHAEDRUS: Very true. to her, for the philosophers, of whose music the grasshoppers make report to them; for these are the Muses who are chiefly SOCRATES: So far are they from despising, or rather so concerned with heaven and thought, divine as well as human, highly do they value the practice of writing. and they have the sweetest utterance. For many reasons, then, PHAEDRUS: No doubt. we ought always to talk and not to sleep at mid-day. SOCRATES: And when the king or orator has the power, PHAEDRUS: Let us talk. as Lycurgus or Solon or Darius had, of attaining an immor- tality or authorship in a state, is he not thought by posterity, when they see his compositions, and does he not think him- self, while he is yet alive, to be a god? 2.7. Knowledge and the True Art of Rhetoric PHAEDRUS: Very true. SOCRATES: Then do you think that any one of this class, SOCRATES: Shall we discuss the rules of writing and however ill- disposed, would reproach Lysias with being an speech as we were proposing? author? PHAEDRUS: Very good. PHAEDRUS: Not upon your view; for according to you he SOCRATES: In good speaking should not the mind of the would be casting a slur upon his own favourite pursuit. speaker know the truth of the matter about which he is going SOCRATES: Any one may see that there is no disgrace in to speak? the mere fact of writing. PHAEDRUS: And yet, Socrates, I have heard that he who PHAEDRUS: Certainly not. would be an orator has nothing to do with true justice, but SOCRATES: The disgrace begins when a man writes not only with that which is likely to be approved by the many who well, but badly. sit in judgment; nor with the truly good or honourable, but PHAEDRUS: Clearly. only with opinion about them, and that from opinion comes persuasion, and not from the truth. SOCRATES: And what is well and what is badlyÐneed we ask Lysias, or any other poet or orator, who ever wrote or will SOCRATES: The words of the wise are not to be set aside; write either a political or any other work, in metre or out of for there is probably something in them; and therefore the metre, poet or prose writer, to teach us this? meaning of this saying is not hastily to be dismissed. PHAEDRUS: Need we? For what should a man live if not PHAEDRUS: Very true. for the pleasures of discourse? Surely not for the sake of bod- SOCRATES: Let us put the matter thus:ÐSuppose that I per- ily pleasures, which almost always have previous pain as a suaded you to buy a horse and go to the wars. Neither of us condition of them, and therefore are rightly called slavish. knew what a horse was like, but I knew that you believed a SOCRATES: There is time enough. And I believe that the horse to be of tame animals the one which has the longest grasshoppers chirruping after their manner in the heat of the ears. sun over our heads are talking to one another and looking PHAEDRUS: That would be ridiculous. down at us. What would they say if they saw that we, like the SOCRATES: There is something more ridiculous coming:Ð many, are not conversing, but slumbering at mid-day, lulled Suppose, further, that in sober earnest I, having persuaded you by their voices, too indolent to think? Would they not have a of this, went and composed a speech in honour of an ass, right to laugh at us? They might imagine that we were slaves, whom I entitled a horse beginning: ’A noble animal and a who, coming to rest at a place of resort of theirs, like sheep lie most useful possession, especially in war, and you may get on asleep at noon around the well. But if they see us discoursing, his back and fight, and he will carry baggage or anything.’ and like Odysseus sailing past them, deaf to their siren voices, PHAEDRUS: How ridiculous! 33

SOCRATES: Ridiculous! Yes; but is not even a ridiculous SOCRATES: About the just and unjustÐthat is the matter in friend better than a cunning enemy? dispute? PHAEDRUS: Certainly. PHAEDRUS: Yes. SOCRATES: And when the orator instead of putting an ass SOCRATES: And a professor of the art will make the same in the place of a horse, puts good for evil, being himself as thing appear to the same persons to be at one time just, at ignorant of their true nature as the city on which he imposes another time, if he is so inclined, to be unjust? is ignorant; and having studied the notions of the multitude, PHAEDRUS: Exactly. falsely persuades them not about ’the shadow of an ass,’ which SOCRATES: And when he speaks in the assembly, he will he confounds with a horse, but about good which he con- make the same things seem good to the city at one time, and founds with evil,Ðwhat will be the harvest which rhetoric will at another time the reverse of good? be likely to gather after the sowing of that seed? PHAEDRUS: That is true. PHAEDRUS: The reverse of good. SOCRATES: Have we not heard of the Eleatic Palamedes SOCRATES: But perhaps rhetoric has been getting too (Zeno), who has an art of speaking by which he makes the roughly handled by us, and she might answer: What amaz- same things appear to his hearers like and unlike, one and ing nonsense you are talking! As if I forced any man to learn many, at rest and in motion? to speak in ignorance of the truth! Whatever my advice may PHAEDRUS: Very true. be worth, I should have told him to arrive at the truth first, and SOCRATES: The art of disputation, then, is not confined to then come to me. At the same time I boldly assert that mere the courts and the assembly, but is one and the same in every knowledge of the truth will not give you the art of persuasion. use of language; this is the art, if there be such an art, which PHAEDRUS: There is reason in the lady’s defence of her- is able to find a likeness of everything to which a likeness can self. be found, and draws into the light of day the likenesses and disguises which are used by others? SOCRATES: Quite true; if only the other arguments which remain to be brought up bear her witness that she is an art at PHAEDRUS: How do you mean? all. But I seem to hear them arraying themselves on the oppo- SOCRATES: Let me put the matter thus: When will there site side, declaring that she speaks falsely, and that rhetoric is be more chance of deceptionÐwhen the difference is large or a mere routine and trick, not an art. Lo! a Spartan appears, and small? says that there never is nor ever will be a real art of speaking PHAEDRUS: When the difference is small. which is divorced from the truth. SOCRATES: And you will be less likely to be discovered in passing by degrees into the other extreme than when you go PHAEDRUS: And what are these arguments, Socrates? all at once? Bring them out that we may examine them. PHAEDRUS: Of course. SOCRATES: Come out, fair children, and convince Phae- SOCRATES: He, then, who would deceive others, and not drus, who is the father of similar beauties, that he will never be deceived, must exactly know the real likenesses and differ- be able to speak about anything as he ought to speak unless ences of things? he have a knowledge of philosophy. And let Phaedrus answer PHAEDRUS: He must. you. SOCRATES: And if he is ignorant of the true nature of any PHAEDRUS: Put the question. subject, how can he detect the greater or less degree of like- SOCRATES: Is not rhetoric, taken generally, a universal art ness in other things to that of which by the hypothesis he is of enchanting the mind by arguments; which is practised not ignorant? only in courts and public assemblies, but in private houses PHAEDRUS: He cannot. also, having to do with all matters, great as well as small, good SOCRATES: And when men are deceived and their notions and bad alike, and is in all equally right, and equally to be are at variance with realities, it is clear that the error slips in esteemedÐthat is what you have heard? through resemblances? PHAEDRUS: Nay, not exactly that; I should say rather that PHAEDRUS: Yes, that is the way. I have heard the art confined to speaking and writing in law- SOCRATES: Then he who would be a master of the art suits, and to speaking in public assembliesÐnot extended far- must understand the real nature of everything; or he will never ther. know either how to make the gradual departure from truth into SOCRATES: Then I suppose that you have only heard of the opposite of truth which is effected by the help of resem- the rhetoric of Nestor and Odysseus, which they composed in blances, or how to avoid it? their leisure hours when at Troy, and never of the rhetoric of PHAEDRUS: He will not. Palamedes? SOCRATES: He then, who being ignorant of the truth aims PHAEDRUS: No more than of Nestor and Odysseus, unless at appearances, will only attain an art of rhetoric which is Gorgias is your Nestor, and Thrasymachus or Theodorus your ridiculous and is not an art at all? Odysseus. PHAEDRUS: That may be expected. SOCRATES: Perhaps that is my meaning. But let us leave SOCRATES: Shall I propose that we look for examples of them. And do you tell me, instead, what are plaintiff and de- art and want of art, according to our notion of them, in the fendant doing in a law courtÐ are they not contending? speech of Lysias which you have in your hand, and in my own PHAEDRUS: Exactly so. speech? 34

PHAEDRUS: Nothing could be better; and indeed I think PHAEDRUS: Yes, indeed; that you did, and no mistake. that our previous argument has been too abstract and wanting SOCRATES: Then I perceive that the Nymphs of Achelous in illustrations. and Pan the son of Hermes, who inspired me, were far better SOCRATES: Yes; and the two speeches happen to afford rhetoricians than Lysias the son of Cephalus. Alas! how infe- a very good example of the way in which the speaker who rior to them he is! But perhaps I am mistaken; and Lysias at knows the truth may, without any serious purpose, steal away the commencement of his lover’s speech did insist on our sup- the hearts of his hearers. This piece of good- fortune I attribute posing love to be something or other which he fancied him to to the local deities; and, perhaps, the prophets of the Muses be, and according to this model he fashioned and framed the who are singing over our heads may have imparted their in- remainder of his discourse. Suppose we read his beginning spiration to me. For I do not imagine that I have any rhetorical over again: art of my own. PHAEDRUS: If you please; but you will not find what you PHAEDRUS: Granted; if you will only please to get on. want. SOCRATES: Suppose that you read me the first words of SOCRATES: Read, that I may have his exact words. Lysias’ speech. PHAEDRUS: ’You know how matters stand with me, and PHAEDRUS: ’You know how matters stand with me, and how, as I conceive, they might be arranged for our common how, as I conceive, they might be arranged for our common interest; and I maintain I ought not to fail in my suit because interest; and I maintain that I ought not to fail in my suit, I am not your lover, for lovers repent of the kindnesses which because I am not your lover. For lovers repent–’ they have shown, when their love is over.’ SOCRATES: Enough:ÐNow, shall I point out the rhetorical SOCRATES: Here he appears to have done just the reverse error of those words? of what he ought; for he has begun at the end, and is swim- PHAEDRUS: Yes. ming on his back through the flood to the place of starting. SOCRATES: Every one is aware that about some things we His address to the fair youth begins where the lover would are agreed, whereas about other things we differ. have ended. Am I not right, sweet Phaedrus? PHAEDRUS: I think that I understand you; but will you ex- PHAEDRUS: Yes, indeed, Socrates; he does begin at the plain yourself? end. SOCRATES: When any one speaks of iron and silver, is not SOCRATES: Then as to the other topicsÐare they not thrown the same thing present in the minds of all? down anyhow? Is there any principle in them? Why should PHAEDRUS: Certainly. the next topic follow next in order, or any other topic? I can- SOCRATES: But when any one speaks of justice and good- not help fancying in my ignorance that he wrote off boldly ness we part company and are at odds with one another and just what came into his head, but I dare say that you would with ourselves? recognize a rhetorical necessity in the succession of the sev- PHAEDRUS: Precisely. eral parts of the composition? SOCRATES: Then in some things we agree, but not in oth- PHAEDRUS: You have too good an opinion of me if you ers? think that I have any such insight into his principles of com- PHAEDRUS: That is true. position. SOCRATES: In which are we more likely to be deceived, SOCRATES: At any rate, you will allow that every discourse and in which has rhetoric the greater power? ought to be a living creature, having a body of its own and a PHAEDRUS: Clearly, in the uncertain class. head and feet; there should be a middle, beginning, and end, SOCRATES: Then the rhetorician ought to make a regular adapted to one another and to the whole? division, and acquire a distinct notion of both classes, as well PHAEDRUS: Certainly. of that in which the many err, as of that in which they do not SOCRATES: Can this be said of the discourse of Lysias? See err? whether you can find any more connexion in his words than in PHAEDRUS: He who made such a distinction would have the epitaph which is said by some to have been inscribed on an excellent principle. the grave of Midas the Phrygian. HAEDRUS SOCRATES: Yes; and in the next place he must have a keen P : What is there remarkable in the epitaph? eye for the observation of particulars in speaking, and not SOCRATES: It is as follows:Ð make a mistake about the class to which they are to be re- ’I am a maiden of bronze and lie on the tomb ferred. of Midas; So long as water flows and tall trees PHAEDRUS: Certainly. grow, So long here on this spot by his sad tomb SOCRATES: Now to which class does love belongÐto the abiding, I shall declare to passers-by that Midas debatable or to the undisputed class? sleeps below.’ PHAEDRUS: To the debatable, clearly; for if not, do you think that love would have allowed you to say as you did, that Now in this rhyme whether a line comes first or comes last, as he is an evil both to the lover and the beloved, and also the you will perceive, makes no difference. greatest possible good? PHAEDRUS: You are making fun of that oration of ours. SOCRATES: Capital. But will you tell me whether I defined SOCRATES: Well, I will say no more about your friend’s love at the beginning of my speech? for, having been in an speech lest I should give offence to you; although I think that ecstasy, I cannot well remember. it might furnish many other examples of what a man ought 35 rather to avoid. But I will proceed to the other speech, which, up before us and applauded and affirmed to be the author of as I think, is also suggestive to students of rhetoric. the greatest benefits. PHAEDRUS: In what way? PHAEDRUS: Most true. SOCRATES: I am myself a great lover of these processes of division and generalization; they help me to speak and to 2.8. Collection and Division, or Dialectic think. And if I find any man who is able to see ’a One and Many’ in nature, him I follow, and ’walk in his footsteps as SOCRATES: The two speeches, as you may remember, were if he were a god.’ And those who have this art, I have hith- unlike; the one argued that the lover and the other that the non- erto been in the habit of calling dialecticians; but God knows lover ought to be accepted. whether the name is right or not. And I should like to know what name you would give to your or to Lysias’ disciples, PHAEDRUS: And right manfully. and whether this may not be that famous art of rhetoric which SOCRATES: You should rather say ’madly;’ and madness Thrasymachus and others teach and practise? Skilful speakers was the argument of them, for, as I said, ’love is a madness.’ they are, and impart their skill to any who is willing to make PHAEDRUS: Yes. kings of them and to bring gifts to them. SOCRATES: And of madness there were two kinds; one pro- duced by human infirmity, the other was a divine release of the soul from the yoke of custom and convention. PHAEDRUS: True. 2.9. Rhetoric, the False Art and the True SOCRATES: The divine madness was subdivided into four kinds, prophetic, initiatory, poetic, erotic, having four gods PHAEDRUS: Yes, they are royal men; but their art is not the presiding over them; the first was the inspiration of Apollo, same with the art of those whom you call, and rightly, in my the second that of Dionysus, the third that of the Muses, the opinion, dialecticians:Ð Still we are in the dark about rhetoric. fourth that of Aphrodite and Eros. In the description of the last SOCRATES: What do you mean? The remains of it, if there kind of madness, which was also said to be the best, we spoke be anything remaining which can be brought under rules of of the affection of love in a figure, into which we introduced a art, must be a fine thing; and, at any rate, is not to be despised tolerably credible and possibly true though partly erring myth, by you and me. But how much is left? which was also a hymn in honour of Love, who is your lord PHAEDRUS: There is a great deal surely to be found in and also mine, Phaedrus, and the guardian of fair children, and books of rhetoric? to him we sung the hymn in measured and solemn strain. SOCRATES: Yes; thank you for reminding me:ÐThere is the PHAEDRUS: I know that I had great pleasure in listening to exordium, showing how the speech should begin, if I remem- you. ber rightly; that is what you meanÐ the niceties of the art? SOCRATES: Let us take this instance and note how the tran- PHAEDRUS: Yes. sition was made from blame to praise. SOCRATES: Then follows the statement of facts, and upon PHAEDRUS: What do you mean? that witnesses; thirdly, proofs; fourthly, probabilities are to SOCRATES: I mean to say that the composition was mostly come; the great Byzantian word-maker also speaks, if I am playful. Yet in these chance fancies of the hour were involved not mistaken, of confirmation and further confirmation. two principles of which we should be too glad to have a clearer PHAEDRUS: You mean the excellent Theodorus. description if art could give us one. SOCRATES: Yes; and he tells how refutation or further refu- PHAEDRUS: What are they? tation is to be managed, whether in accusation or defence. I SOCRATES: First, the comprehension of scattered particu- ought also to mention the illustrious Parian, Evenus, who first lars in one idea; as in our definition of love, which whether invented insinuations and indirect praises; and also indirect true or false certainly gave clearness and consistency to the censures, which according to some he put into verse to help discourse, the speaker should define his several notions and the memory. But shall I ’to dumb forgetfulness consign’ Tisias so make his meaning clear. and Gorgias, who are not ignorant that probability is superior PHAEDRUS: What is the other principle, Socrates? to truth, and who by force of argument make the little appear SOCRATES: The second principle is that of division into great and the great little, disguise the new in old fashions and species according to the natural formation, where the joint is, the old in new fashions, and have discovered forms for every- not breaking any part as a bad carver might. Just as our two thing, either short or going on to infinity. I remember Prodicus discourses, alike assumed, first of all, a single form of unrea- laughing when I told him of this; he said that he had himself son; and then, as the body which from being one becomes discovered the true rule of art, which was to be neither long double and may be divided into a left side and right side, each nor short, but of a convenient length. having parts right and left of the same nameÐafter this manner PHAEDRUS: Well done, Prodicus! the speaker proceeded to divide the parts of the left side and SOCRATES: Then there is Hippias the Elean stranger, who did not desist until he found in them an evil or left-handed love probably agrees with him. which he justly reviled; and the other discourse leading us to PHAEDRUS: Yes. the madness which lay on the right side, found another love, SOCRATES: And there is also Polus, who has treasuries also having the same name, but divine, which the speaker held of diplasiology, and gnomology, and eikonology, and who 36 teaches in them the names of which Licymnius made him a how to pitch the highest and lowest note; happening to meet present; they were to give a polish. such an one he would not say to him savagely, ’Fool, you PHAEDRUS: Had not Protagoras something of the same are mad!’ But like a musician, in a gentle and harmonious sort? tone of voice, he would answer: ’My good friend, he who SOCRATES: Yes, rules of correct diction and many other would be a harmonist must certainly know this, and yet he fine precepts; for the ’sorrows of a poor old man,’ or any other may understand nothing of harmony if he has not got beyond pathetic case, no one is better than the Chalcedonian giant; he your stage of knowledge, for you only know the preliminaries can put a whole company of people into a passion and out of of harmony and not harmony itself.’ one again by his mighty magic, and is first-rate at inventing PHAEDRUS: Very true. or disposing of any sort of calumny on any grounds or none. SOCRATES: And will not Sophocles say to the display of All of them agree in asserting that a speech should end in a the would-be tragedian, that this is not tragedy but the prelim- recapitulation, though they do not all agree to use the same inaries of tragedy? and will not Acumenus say the same of word. medicine to the would-be physician? PHAEDRUS: You mean that there should be a summing up PHAEDRUS: Quite true. of the arguments in order to remind the hearers of them. SOCRATES: And if Adrastus the mellifluous or Pericles SOCRATES: I have now said all that I have to say of the art heard of these wonderful arts, brachylogies and eikonologies of rhetoric: have you anything to add? and all the hard names which we have been endeavouring to PHAEDRUS: Not much; nothing very important. draw into the light of day, what would they say? Instead of SOCRATES: Leave the unimportant and let us bring the re- losing temper and applying uncomplimentary epithets, as you ally important question into the light of day, which is: What and I have been doing, to the authors of such an imaginary power has this art of rhetoric, and when? art, their superior wisdom would rather censure us, as well PHAEDRUS: A very great power in public meetings. as them. ’Have a little patience, Phaedrus and Socrates, they SOCRATES: It has. But I should like to know whether you would say; you should not be in such a passion with those who have the same feeling as I have about the rhetoricians? To me from some want of dialectical skill are unable to define the there seem to be a great many holes in their web. nature of rhetoric, and consequently suppose that they have PHAEDRUS: Give an example. found the art in the preliminary conditions of it, and when SOCRATES: I will. Suppose a person to come to your friend these have been taught by them to others, fancy that the whole Eryximachus, or to his father Acumenus, and to say to him: art of rhetoric has been taught by them; but as to using the sev- ’I know how to apply drugs which shall have either a heating eral instruments of the art effectively, or making the composi- or a cooling effect, and I can give a vomit and also a purge, tion a whole,Ðan application of it such as this is they regard as and all that sort of thing; and knowing all this, as I do, I claim an easy thing which their disciples may make for themselves.’ to be a physician and to make physicians by imparting this PHAEDRUS: I quite admit, Socrates, that the art of rhetoric knowledge to others,’–what do you suppose that they would which these men teach and of which they write is such as say? you describeÐthere I agree with you. But I still want to know PHAEDRUS: They would be sure to ask him whether he where and how the true art of rhetoric and persuasion is to be knew ’to whom’ he would give his medicines, and ’when,’ acquired. and ’how much.’ SOCRATES: The perfection which is required of the fin- SOCRATES: And suppose that he were to reply: ’No; I ished orator is, or rather must be, like the perfection of any- know nothing of all that; I expect the patient who consults thing else; partly given by nature, but may also be assisted by me to be able to do these things for himself’? art. If you have the natural power and add to it knowledge PHAEDRUS: They would say in reply that he is a madman and practice, you will be a distinguished speaker; if you fall or a pedant who fancies that he is a physician because he has short in either of these, you will be to that extent defective. read something in a book, or has stumbled on a prescription But the art, as far as there is an art, of rhetoric does not lie in or two, although he has no real understanding of the art of the direction of Lysias or Thrasymachus. medicine. PHAEDRUS: In what direction then? SOCRATES: And suppose a person were to come to Sopho- SOCRATES: I conceive Pericles to have been the most ac- cles or Euripides and say that he knows how to make a very complished of rhetoricians. long speech about a small matter, and a short speech about PHAEDRUS: What of that? a great matter, and also a sorrowful speech, or a terrible, or SOCRATES: All the great arts require discussion and high threatening speech, or any other kind of speech, and in teach- speculation about the truths of nature; hence come loftiness ing this fancies that he is teaching the art of tragedyÐ? of thought and completeness of execution. And this, as I con- PHAEDRUS: They too would surely laugh at him if he fan- ceive, was the quality which, in addition to his natural gifts, cies that tragedy is anything but the arranging of these ele- Pericles acquired from his intercourse with Anaxagoras whom ments in a manner which will be suitable to one another and he happened to know. He was thus imbued with the higher to the whole. philosophy, and attained the knowledge of Mind and the neg- SOCRATES: But I do not suppose that they would be rude ative of Mind, which were favourite themes of Anaxagoras, or abusive to him: Would they not treat him as a musician and applied what suited his purpose to the art of speaking. a man who thinks that he is a harmonist because he knows PHAEDRUS: Explain. 37

SOCRATES: Rhetoric is like medicine. in speaking or writing. But the writers of the present day, at PHAEDRUS: How so? whose feet you have sat, craftily conceal the nature of the soul SOCRATES: Why, because medicine has to define the na- which they know quite well. Nor, until they adopt our method ture of the body and rhetoric of the soulÐif we would pro- of reading and writing, can we admit that they write by rules ceed, not empirically but scientifically, in the one case to im- of art? part health and strength by giving medicine and food, in the PHAEDRUS: What is our method? other to implant the conviction or virtue which you desire, by SOCRATES: I cannot give you the exact details; but I should the right application of words and training. like to tell you generally, as far as is in my power, how a man PHAEDRUS: There, Socrates, I suspect that you are right. ought to proceed according to rules of art. SOCRATES: And do you think that you can know the na- PHAEDRUS: Let me hear. ture of the soul intelligently without knowing the nature of SOCRATES: Oratory is the art of enchanting the soul, and the whole? therefore he who would be an orator has to learn the differ- PHAEDRUS: Hippocrates the Asclepiad says that the nature ences of human soulsÐthey are so many and of such a nature, even of the body can only be understood as a whole. (Com- and from them come the differences between man and man. pare Charmides.) Having proceeded thus far in his analysis, he will next divide SOCRATES: Yes, friend, and he was right:Ðstill, we ought speeches into their different classes:–’Such and such persons,’ not to be content with the name of Hippocrates, but to examine he will say, are affected by this or that kind of speech in this and see whether his argument agrees with his conception of or that way,’ and he will tell you why. The pupil must have nature. a good theoretical notion of them first, and then he must have PHAEDRUS: I agree. experience of them in actual life, and be able to follow them SOCRATES: Then consider what truth as well as Hip- with all his senses about him, or he will never get beyond the pocrates says about this or about any other nature. Ought we precepts of his masters. But when he understands what per- not to consider first whether that which we wish to learn and sons are persuaded by what arguments, and sees the person to teach is a simple or multiform thing, and if simple, then about whom he was speaking in the abstract actually before to enquire what power it has of acting or being acted upon in him, and knows that it is he, and can say to himself, ’This is relation to other things, and if multiform, then to number the the man or this is the character who ought to have a certain forms; and see first in the case of one of them, and then in the argument applied to him in order to convince him of a cer- case of all of them, what is that power of acting or being acted tain opinion;’–he who knows all this, and knows also when he upon which makes each and all of them to be what they are? should speak and when he should refrain, and when he should PHAEDRUS: You may very likely be right, Socrates. use pithy sayings, pathetic appeals, sensational effects, and all SOCRATES: The method which proceeds without analysis the other modes of speech which he has learned;Ðwhen, I say, is like the groping of a blind man. Yet, surely, he who is an he knows the times and seasons of all these things, then, and artist ought not to admit of a comparison with the blind, or not till then, he is a perfect master of his art; but if he fail in deaf. The rhetorician, who teaches his pupil to speak scien- any of these points, whether in speaking or teaching or writ- tifically, will particularly set forth the nature of that being to ing them, and yet declares that he speaks by rules of art, he which he addresses his speeches; and this, I conceive, to be who says ’I don’t believe you’ has the better of him. Well, the the soul. teacher will say, is this, Phaedrus and Socrates, your account PHAEDRUS: Certainly. of the so-called art of rhetoric, or am I to look for another? SOCRATES: His whole effort is directed to the soul; for in PHAEDRUS: He must take this, Socrates, for there is no that he seeks to produce conviction. possibility of another, and yet the creation of such an art is not PHAEDRUS: Yes. easy. SOCRATES: Then clearly, Thrasymachus or any one else SOCRATES: Very true; and therefore let us consider this who teaches rhetoric in earnest will give an exact description matter in every light, and see whether we cannot find a shorter of the nature of the soul; which will enable us to see whether and easier road; there is no use in taking a long rough round- she be single and same, or, like the body, multiform. That is about way if there be a shorter and easier one. And I wish that what we should call showing the nature of the soul. you would try and remember whether you have heard from PHAEDRUS: Exactly. Lysias or any one else anything which might be of service to SOCRATES: He will explain, secondly, the mode in which us. she acts or is acted upon. PHAEDRUS: If trying would avail, then I might; but at the PHAEDRUS: True. moment I can think of nothing. SOCRATES: Thirdly, having classified men and speeches, SOCRATES: Suppose I tell you something which somebody and their kinds and affections, and adapted them to one an- who knows told me. other, he will tell the reasons of his arrangement, and show PHAEDRUS: Certainly. why one soul is persuaded by a particular form of argument, SOCRATES: May not ’the wolf,’ as the proverb says, ’claim and another not. a hearing’? PHAEDRUS: You have hit upon a very good way. PHAEDRUS: Do you say what can be said for him. SOCRATES: Yes, that is the true and only way in which SOCRATES: He will argue that there is no use in putting a any subject can be set forth or treated by rules of art, whether solemn face on these matters, or in going round and round, 38 until you arrive at first principles; for, as I said at first, when try to please his fellow-servants (at least this should not be his the question is of justice and good, or is a question in which first object) but his good and noble masters; and therefore if men are concerned who are just and good, either by nature the way is long and circuitous, marvel not at this, for, where or habit, he who would be a skilful rhetorician has no need the end is great, there we may take the longer road, but not of truthÐfor that in courts of law men literally care nothing for lesser ends such as yours. Truly, the argument may say, about truth, but only about conviction: and this is based on Tisias, that if you do not mind going so far, rhetoric has a fair probability, to which he who would be a skilful orator should beginning here. therefore give his whole attention. And they say also that there PHAEDRUS: I think, Socrates, that this is admirable, if only are cases in which the actual facts, if they are improbable, practicable. ought to be withheld, and only the probabilities should be told SOCRATES: But even to fail in an honourable object is hon- either in accusation or defence, and that always in speaking, ourable. the orator should keep probability in view, and say good-bye PHAEDRUS: True. to the truth. And the observance of this principle throughout a SOCRATES: Enough appears to have been said by us of a speech furnishes the whole art. true and false art of speaking. PHAEDRUS: That is what the professors of rhetoric do ac- PHAEDRUS: Certainly. tually say, Socrates. I have not forgotten that we have quite briefly touched upon this matter already; with them the point is all-important. 2.10. Speech and Writing SOCRATES: I dare say that you are familiar with Tisias. Does he not define probability to be that which the many SOCRATES: But there is something yet to be said of propri- think? ety and impropriety of writing. PHAEDRUS: Certainly, he does. PHAEDRUS: Yes. SOCRATES: I believe that he has a clever and ingenious SOCRATES: Do you know how you can speak or act about case of this sort: ÐHe supposes a feeble and valiant man to rhetoric in a manner which will be acceptable to God? have assaulted a strong and cowardly one, and to have robbed PHAEDRUS: No, indeed. Do you? him of his coat or of something or other; he is brought into SOCRATES: I have heard a tradition of the ancients, court, and then Tisias says that both parties should tell lies: whether true or not they only know; although if we had found the coward should say that he was assaulted by more men than the truth ourselves, do you think that we should care much one; the other should prove that they were alone, and should about the opinions of men? argue thus: ’How could a weak man like me have assaulted a PHAEDRUS: Your question needs no answer; but I wish that strong man like him?’ The complainant will not like to con- you would tell me what you say that you have heard. fess his own cowardice, and will therefore invent some other SOCRATES: At the Egyptian city of Naucratis, there was lie which his adversary will thus gain an opportunity of refut- a famous old god, whose name was Theuth; the bird which ing. And there are other devices of the same kind which have is called the Ibis is sacred to him, and he was the inventor of a place in the system. Am I not right, Phaedrus? many arts, such as arithmetic and calculation and geometry PHAEDRUS: Certainly. and astronomy and draughts and dice, but his great discovery SOCRATES: Bless me, what a wonderfully mysterious art is was the use of letters. Now in those days the god Thamus was this which Tisias or some other gentleman, in whatever name the king of the whole country of Egypt; and he dwelt in that or country he rejoices, has discovered. Shall we say a word to great city of Upper Egypt which the Hellenes call Egyptian him or not? Thebes, and the god himself is called by them Ammon. To PHAEDRUS: What shall we say to him? him came Theuth and showed his inventions, desiring that the SOCRATES: Let us tell him that, before he appeared, you other Egyptians might be allowed to have the benefit of them; and I were saying that the probability of which he speaks he enumerated them, and Thamus enquired about their several was engendered in the minds of the many by the likeness of uses, and praised some of them and censured others, as he ap- the truth, and we had just been affirming that he who knew proved or disapproved of them. It would take a long time to the truth would always know best how to discover the resem- repeat all that Thamus said to Theuth in praise or blame of blances of the truth. If he has anything else to say about the art the various arts. But when they came to letters, This, said of speaking we should like to hear him; but if not, we are sat- Theuth, will make the Egyptians wiser and give them better isfied with our own view, that unless a man estimates the var- memories; it is a specific both for the memory and for the ious characters of his hearers and is able to divide all things wit. Thamus replied: O most ingenious Theuth, the parent or into classes and to comprehend them under single ideas, he inventor of an art is not always the best judge of the utility will never be a skilful rhetorician even within the limits of hu- or inutility of his own inventions to the users of them. And man power. And this skill he will not attain without a great in this instance, you who are the father of letters, from a pa- deal of trouble, which a good man ought to undergo, not for ternal love of your own children have been led to attribute to the sake of speaking and acting before men, but in order that them a quality which they cannot have; for this discovery of he may be able to say what is acceptable to God and always to yours will create forgetfulness in the learners’ souls, because act acceptably to Him as far as in him lies; for there is a saying they will not use their memories; they will trust to the external of wiser men than ourselves, that a man of sense should not written characters and not remember of themselves. The spe- 39 cific which you have discovered is an aid not to memory, but to in earnest; he will do the other, as you say, only in play. reminiscence, and you give your disciples not truth, but only SOCRATES: And can we suppose that he who knows the the semblance of truth; they will be hearers of many things just and good and honourable has less understanding, than the and will have learned nothing; they will appear to be omni- husbandman, about his own seeds? scient and will generally know nothing; they will be tiresome PHAEDRUS: Certainly not. company, having the show of wisdom without the reality. SOCRATES: Then he will not seriously incline to ’write’ his PHAEDRUS: Yes, Socrates, you can easily invent tales of thoughts ’in water’ with pen and ink, sowing words which can Egypt, or of any other country. neither speak for themselves nor teach the truth adequately to SOCRATES: There was a tradition in the temple of Dodona others? that oaks first gave prophetic utterances. The men of old, un- PHAEDRUS: No, that is not likely. like in their simplicity to young philosophy, deemed that if SOCRATES: No, that is not likelyÐin the garden of letters they heard the truth even from ’oak or rock,’ it was enough for he will sow and plant, but only for the sake of recreation and them; whereas you seem to consider not whether a thing is or amusement; he will write them down as memorials to be trea- is not true, but who the speaker is and from what country the sured against the forgetfulness of old age, by himself, or by tale comes. any other old man who is treading the same path. He will re- PHAEDRUS: I acknowledge the justice of your rebuke; and joice in beholding their tender growth; and while others are I think that the Theban is right in his view about letters. refreshing their souls with banqueting and the like, this will SOCRATES: He would be a very simple person, and quite be the pastime in which his days are spent. a stranger to the oracles of Thamus or Ammon, who should PHAEDRUS: A pastime, Socrates, as noble as the other is leave in writing or receive in writing any art under the idea ignoble, the pastime of a man who can be amused by serious that the written word would be intelligible or certain; or who talk, and can discourse merrily about justice and the like. deemed that writing was at all better than knowledge and rec- SOCRATES: True, Phaedrus. But nobler far is the serious ollection of the same matters? pursuit of the dialectician, who, finding a congenial soul, by PHAEDRUS: That is most true. the help of science sows and plants therein words which are SOCRATES: I cannot help feeling, Phaedrus, that writing able to help themselves and him who planted them, and are is unfortunately like painting; for the creations of the painter not unfruitful, but have in them a seed which others brought have the attitude of life, and yet if you ask them a question up in different soils render immortal, making the possessors they preserve a solemn silence. And the same may be said of of it happy to the utmost extent of human happiness. speeches. You would imagine that they had intelligence, but if PHAEDRUS: Far nobler, certainly. you want to know anything and put a question to one of them, the speaker always gives one unvarying answer. And when they have been once written down they are tumbled about any- 2.11. Conclusion where among those who may or may not understand them, and know not to whom they should reply, to whom not: and, SOCRATES: And now, Phaedrus, having agreed upon the if they are maltreated or abused, they have no parent to protect premises we may decide about the conclusion. them; and they cannot protect or defend themselves. PHAEDRUS: About what conclusion? PHAEDRUS: That again is most true. SOCRATES: About Lysias, whom we censured, and his art SOCRATES: Is there not another kind of word or speech of writing, and his discourses, and the rhetorical skill or want far better than this, and having far greater powerÐa son of the of skill which was shown in themÐthese are the questions same family, but lawfully begotten? which we sought to determine, and they brought us to this PHAEDRUS: Whom do you mean, and what is his origin? point. And I think that we are now pretty well informed about SOCRATES: I mean an intelligent word graven in the soul the nature of art and its opposite. of the learner, which can defend itself, and knows when to PHAEDRUS: Yes, I think with you; but I wish that you speak and when to be silent. would repeat what was said. PHAEDRUS: You mean the living word of knowledge which SOCRATES: Until a man knows the truth of the several par- has a soul, and of which the written word is properly no more ticulars of which he is writing or speaking, and is able to de- than an image? fine them as they are, and having defined them again to divide SOCRATES: Yes, of course that is what I mean. And now them until they can be no longer divided, and until in like may I be allowed to ask you a question: Would a husbandman, manner he is able to discern the nature of the soul, and dis- who is a man of sense, take the seeds, which he values and cover the different modes of discourse which are adapted to which he wishes to bear fruit, and in sober seriousness plant different natures, and to arrange and dispose them in such a them during the heat of summer, in some garden of Adonis, way that the simple form of speech may be addressed to the that he may rejoice when he sees them in eight days appearing simpler nature, and the complex and composite to the more in beauty? at least he would do so, if at all, only for the sake of complex natureÐuntil he has accomplished all this, he will be amusement and pastime. But when he is in earnest he sows in unable to handle arguments according to rules of art, as far as fitting soil, and practises husbandry, and is satisfied if in eight their nature allows them to be subjected to art, either for the months the seeds which he has sown arrive at perfection? purpose of teaching or persuading;Ðsuch is the view which is PHAEDRUS: Yes, Socrates, that will be his way when he is implied in the whole preceding argument. 40

PHAEDRUS: Yes, that was our view, certainly. SOCRATES: Now go and tell this to your companion. SOCRATES: Secondly, as to the censure which was passed PHAEDRUS: But there is also a friend of yours who ought on the speaking or writing of discourses, and how they might not to be forgotten. be rightly or wrongly censuredÐ did not our previous argu- SOCRATES: Who is he? ment showÐ? PHAEDRUS: Isocrates the fair:ÐWhat message will you PHAEDRUS: Show what? send to him, and how shall we describe him? SOCRATES: That whether Lysias or any other writer that SOCRATES: Isocrates is still young, Phaedrus; but I am ever was or will be, whether private man or statesman, pro- willing to hazard a prophecy concerning him. poses laws and so becomes the author of a political treatise, PHAEDRUS: What would you prophesy? fancying that there is any great certainty and clearness in his SOCRATES: I think that he has a genius which soars above performance, the fact of his so writing is only a disgrace to the orations of Lysias, and that his character is cast in a finer him, whatever men may say. For not to know the nature of mould. My impression of him is that he will marvellously justice and injustice, and good and evil, and not to be able improve as he grows older, and that all former rhetoricians to distinguish the dream from the reality, cannot in truth be will be as children in comparison of him. And I believe that otherwise than disgraceful to him, even though he have the he will not be satisfied with rhetoric, but that there is in him applause of the whole world. a divine inspiration which will lead him to things higher still. PHAEDRUS: Certainly. For he has an element of philosophy in his nature. This is the SOCRATES: But he who thinks that in the written word message of the gods dwelling in this place, and which I will there is necessarily much which is not serious, and that neither myself deliver to Isocrates, who is my delight; and do you give poetry nor prose, spoken or written, is of any great value, if, the other to Lysias, who is yours. like the compositions of the rhapsodes, they are only recited in PHAEDRUS: I will; and now as the heat is abated let us order to be believed, and not with any view to criticism or in- depart. struction; and who thinks that even the best of writings are but SOCRATES: Should we not offer up a prayer first of all to a reminiscence of what we know, and that only in principles the local deities? of justice and goodness and nobility taught and communicated PHAEDRUS: By all means. orally for the sake of instruction and graven in the soul, which SOCRATES: Beloved Pan, and all ye other gods who haunt is the true way of writing, is there clearness and perfection and this place, give me beauty in the inward soul; and may the seriousness, and that such principles are a man’s own and his outward and inward man be at one. May I reckon the wise legitimate offspring;Ðbeing, in the first place, the word which to be the wealthy, and may I have such a quantity of gold as he finds in his own bosom; secondly, the brethren and descen- a temperate man and he only can bear and carry.ÐAnything dants and relations of his idea which have been duly implanted more? The prayer, I think, is enough for me. by him in the souls of others;Ðand who cares for them and no PHAEDRUS: Ask the same for me, for friends should have othersÐthis is the right sort of man; and you and I, Phaedrus, all things in common. would pray that we may become like him. SOCRATES: Let us go. PHAEDRUS: That is most assuredly my desire and prayer. SOCRATES: And now the play is played out; and of rhetoric enough. Go and tell Lysias that to the fountain and school 3. THE REPUBLIC of the Nymphs we went down, and were bidden by them to convey a message to him and to other composers of speechesÐ SCENE: The scene is laid in the house of Cephalus at the Pi- to Homer and other writers of poems, whether set to music or raeus; and the whole dialogue is narrated by Socrates, the day not; and to Solon and others who have composed writings in after it actually took place, to Timaeus, Hermocrates, Critias, the form of political discourses which they would term lawsÐ and a nameless person, who are introduced in the Timaeus. to all of them we are to say that if their compositions are based PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: Socrates, who is the nar- on knowledge of the truth, and they can defend or prove them, rator ; Cephalus ; Glaucon ; Thrasymachus ; Adeimantus ; when they are put to the test, by spoken arguments, which Cleitophon ; Polemarchus ; and others who are mute auditors. leave their writings poor in comparison of them, then they are SOCRATES: I went down yesterday to the Piraeus with to be called, not only poets, orators, legislators, but are worthy Glaucon the son of Ariston, that I might offer up my prayers of a higher name, befitting the serious pursuit of their life. to the goddess; and also because I wanted to see in what man- PHAEDRUS: What name would you assign to them? ner they would celebrate the festival, which was a new thing. SOCRATES: Wise, I may not call them; for that is a I was delighted with the procession of the inhabitants; but that great name which belongs to God alone,Ðlovers of wisdom of the Thracians was equally, if not more, beautiful. When we or philosophers is their modest and befitting title. had finished our prayers and viewed the spectacle, we turned PHAEDRUS: Very suitable. in the direction of the city; and at that instant Polemarchus the SOCRATES: And he who cannot rise above his own com- son of Cephalus chanced to catch sight of us from a distance pilations and compositions, which he has been long patch- as we were starting on our way home, and told his servant to ing and piecing, adding some and taking away some, may be run and bid us wait for him. The servant took hold of me by justly called poet or speech-maker or law-maker. the cloak behind, and said: Polemarchus desires you to wait. PHAEDRUS: Certainly. I turned round, and asked him where his master was. 41

There he is, said the youth, coming after you, if you will as travellers who have gone a journey which I too may have only wait. to go, and of whom I ought to enquire, whether the way is Certainly we will, said Glaucon; and in a few minutes smooth and easy, or rugged and difficult. And this is a ques- Polemarchus appeared, and with him Adeimantus, Glaucon’s tion which I should like to ask of you who have arrived at that brother, Niceratus the son of Nicias, and several others who time which the poets call the “threshold of old age” Ð Is life had been at the procession. harder towards the end, or what report do you give of it? Polemarchus said to me: I perceive, Socrates, that you and I will tell you, Socrates, he said, what my own feeling is. our companion are already on your way to the city. Men of my age flock together; we are birds of a feather, as the You are not far wrong, I said. old proverb says; and at our meetings the tale of my acquain- But do you see, he rejoined, how many we are? tance commonly is Ð I cannot eat, I cannot drink; the pleasures Of course. of youth and love are fled away: there was a good time once, And are you stronger than all these? for if not, you will but now that is gone, and life is no longer life. Some com- have to remain where you are. plain of the slights which are put upon them by relations, and May there not be the alternative, I said, that we may per- they will tell you sadly of how many evils their old age is the suade you to let us go? cause. But to me, Socrates, these complainers seem to blame But can you persuade us, if we refuse to listen to you? he that which is not really in fault. For if old age were the cause, said. I too being old, and every other old man, would have felt as Certainly not, replied Glaucon. they do. But this is not my own experience, nor that of oth- Then we are not going to listen; of that you may be assured. ers whom I have known. How well I remember the aged poet Adeimantus added: Has no one told you of the torch-race Sophocles, when in answer to the question, How does love on horseback in honour of the goddess which will take place suit with age, Sophocles, Ð are you still the man you were? in the evening? Peace, most gladly have I escaped the thing of With horses! I replied: That is a novelty. Will horsemen which you speak; I feel as if I had escaped from carry torches and pass them one to another during the race? a mad and furious master. Yes, said Polemarchus, and not only so, but a festival will His words have often occurred to my mind since, and they be celebrated at night, which you certainly ought to see. Let seem as good to me now as at the time when he uttered them. us rise soon after supper and see this festival; there will be a For certainly old age has a great sense of calm and freedom; gathering of young men, and we will have a good talk. Stay when the passions relax their hold, then, as Sophocles says, then, and do not be perverse. we are freed from the grasp not of one mad master only, but Glaucon said: I suppose, since you insist, that we must. of many. The truth is, Socrates, that these regrets, and also Very good, I replied. the complaints about relations, are to be attributed to the same cause, which is not old age, but men’s characters and tempers; for he who is of a calm and happy nature will hardly feel the 3.1. Some Current Views of Justice pressure of age, but to him who is of an opposite disposition youth and age are equally a burden. 3.1.1. Cephalus. Justice as Honesty in Word and Deed I listened in admiration, and wanting to draw him out, that he might go on Ð Yes, Cephalus, I said; but I rather suspect Accordingly we went with Polemarchus to his house; and that people in general are not convinced by you when you there we found his brothers Lysias and Euthydemus, and with speak thus; they think that old age sits lightly upon you, not them Thrasymachus the Chalcedonian, Charmantides the Pae- because of your happy disposition, but because you are rich, nian, and Cleitophon the son of Aristonymus. There too was and wealth is well known to be a great comforter. Cephalus the father of Polemarchus, whom I had not seen for You are right, he replied; they are not convinced: and there a long time, and I thought him very much aged. He was is something in what they say; not, however, so much as they seated on a cushioned chair, and had a garland on his head, imagine. I might answer them as Themistocles answered the for he had been sacrificing in the court; and there were some Seriphian who was abusing him and saying that he was fa- other chairs in the room arranged in a semicircle, upon which mous, not for his own merits but because he was an Athenian: we sat down by him. He saluted me eagerly, and then he said: You don’t come to see me, Socrates, as often as you ought: “If you had been a native of my country or I If I were still able to go and see you I would not ask you to of yours, neither of us would have been famous.” come to me. But at my age I can hardly get to the city, and And to those who are not rich and are impatient of old age, therefore you should come oftener to the Piraeus. For let me the same reply may be made; for to the good poor man old tell you, that the more the pleasures of the body fade away, the age cannot be a light burden, nor can a bad rich man ever have greater to me is the pleasure and charm of conversation. Do peace with himself. not then deny my request, but make our house your resort and May I ask, Cephalus, whether your fortune was for the most keep company with these young men; we are old friends, and part inherited or acquired by you? you will be quite at home with us. Acquired! Socrates; do you want to know how much I ac- I replied: There is nothing which for my part I like better, quired? In the art of making money I have been midway be- Cephalus, than conversing with aged men; for I regard them tween my father and grandfather: for my grandfather, whose 42 name I bear, doubled and trebled the value of his patrimony, You are quite right, he replied. that which he inherited being much what I possess now; but But then, I said, speaking the truth and paying your debts is my father Lysanias reduced the property below what it is at not a correct definition of justice. present: and I shall be satisfied if I leave to these my sons not Quite correct, Socrates, if Simonides is to be believed, said less but a little more than I received. Polemarchus interposing. That was why I asked you the question, I replied, because I I fear, said Cephalus, that I must go now, for I have to see that you are indifferent about money, which is a charac- look after the sacrifices, and I hand over the argument to Pole- teristic rather of those who have inherited their fortunes than marchus and the company. of those who have acquired them; the makers of fortunes have Is not Polemarchus your heir? I said. a second love of money as a creation of their own, resembling To be sure, he answered, and went away laughing to the the affection of authors for their own poems, or of parents for sacrifices. their children, besides that natural love of it for the sake of use and profit which is common to them and all men. And hence they are very bad company, for they can talk about nothing but 3.1.2. Polemarchus. Justice as Helping Friends and Harming the praises of wealth. Enemies That is true, he said. Yes, that is very true, but may I ask another question? Ð Tell me then, O thou heir of the argument, what did Si- What do you consider to be the greatest blessing which you monides say, and according to you truly say, about justice? have reaped from your wealth? He said that the repayment of a debt is just, and in saying One, he said, of which I could not expect easily to convince so he appears to me to be right. others. For let me tell you, Socrates, that when a man thinks I should be sorry to doubt the word of such a wise and in- himself to be near death, fears and cares enter into his mind spired man, but his meaning, though probably clear to you, is which he never had before; the tales of a world below and the the reverse of clear to me. For he certainly does not mean, as punishment which is exacted there of deeds done here were we were just now saying, that I ought to return a deposit of once a laughing matter to him, but now he is tormented with arms or of anything else to one who asks for it when he is not the thought that they may be true: either from the weakness of in his right senses; and yet a deposit cannot be denied to be a age, or because he is now drawing nearer to that other place, debt. he has a clearer view of these things; suspicions and alarms True. crowd thickly upon him, and he begins to reflect and consider Then when the person who asks me is not in his right mind what wrongs he has done to others. And when he finds that I am by no means to make the return? the sum of his transgressions is great he will many a time like Certainly not. a child start up in his sleep for fear, and he is filled with dark When Simonides said that the repayment of a debt was jus- forebodings. But to him who is conscious of no sin, sweet tice, he did not mean to include that case? hope, as Pindar charmingly says, is the kind nurse of his age: Certainly not; for he thinks that a friend ought always to do good to a friend and never evil. “Hope, cherishes the soul of him who lives in You mean that the return of a deposit of gold which is to justice and holiness, and is the nurse of his age the injury of the receiver, if the two parties are friends, is not and the companion of his journey; Ð hope which the repayment of a debt, Ð that is what you would imagine him is mightiest to sway the restless soul of man.” to say? How admirable are his words! And the great blessing of Yes. riches, I do not say to every man, but to a good man, is, And are enemies also to receive what we owe to them? that he has had no occasion to deceive or to defraud others, To be sure, he said, they are to receive what we owe them, either intentionally or unintentionally; and when he departs to and an enemy, as I take it, owes to an enemy that which is due the world below he is not in any apprehension about offerings or proper to him Ð that is to say, evil. due to the gods or debts which he owes to men. Now to this Simonides, then, after the manner of poets, would seem to peace of mind the possession of wealth greatly contributes; have spoken darkly of the nature of justice; for he really and therefore I say, that, setting one thing against another, of meant to say that justice is the giving to each man what is the many advantages which wealth has to give, to a man of proper to him, and this he termed a debt. sense this is in my opinion the greatest. That must have been his meaning, he said. Well said, Cephalus, I replied; but as concerning justice, By heaven! I replied; and if we asked him what due or what is it? Ð to speak the truth and to pay your debts Ð no proper thing is given by medicine, and to whom, what answer more than this? And even to this are there not exceptions? do you think that he would make to us? Suppose that a friend when in his right mind has deposited He would surely reply that medicine gives drugs and meat arms with me and he asks for them when he is not in his right and drink to human bodies. mind, ought I to give them back to him? No one would say And what due or proper thing is given by cookery, and to that I ought or that I should be right in doing so, any more what? than they would say that I ought always to speak the truth to Seasoning to food. one who is in his condition. And what is that which justice gives, and to whom? 43

If, Socrates, we are to be guided at all by the analogy of the That is to say, justice is useful when money is useless? preceding instances, then justice is the art which gives good That is the inference. to friends and evil to enemies. And when you want to keep a pruning-hook safe, then jus- That is his meaning then? tice is useful to the individual and to the state; but when you I think so. want to use it, then the art of the vine-dresser? And who is best able to do good to his friends and evil to Clearly. his enemies in time of sickness? And when you want to keep a shield or a lyre, and not to use The physician. them, you would say that justice is useful; but when you want Or when they are on a voyage, amid the perils of the sea? to use them, then the art of the soldier or of the musician? The pilot. Certainly. And in what sort of actions or with a view to what result is And so of all the other things; Ð justice is useful when they the just man most able to do harm to his enemy and good to are useless, and useless when they are useful? his friends? That is the inference. In going to war against the one and in making alliances with Then justice is not good for much. But let us consider this the other. further point: Is not he who can best strike a blow in a boxing But when a man is well, my dear Polemarchus, there is no match or in any kind of fighting best able to ward off a blow? need of a physician? Certainly. No. And he who is most skillful in preventing or escaping from And he who is not on a voyage has no need of a pilot? a disease is best able to create one? No. True. Then in time of peace justice will be of no use? And he is the best guard of a camp who is best able to steal I am very far from thinking so. a march upon the enemy? You think that justice may be of use in peace as well as in Certainly. war? Then he who is a good keeper of anything is also a good Yes. thief? Like husbandry for the acquisition of corn? That, I suppose, is to be inferred. Yes. Then if the just man is good at keeping money, he is good Or like shoemaking for the acquisition of shoes, Ð that is at stealing it. what you mean? That is implied in the argument. Yes. And what similar use or power of acquisition has justice in Then after all the just man has turned out to be a thief. And time of peace? this is a lesson which I suspect you must have learnt out of In contracts, Socrates, justice is of use. Homer; for he, speaking of Autolycus, the maternal grandfa- And by contracts you mean partnerships? ther of Odysseus, who is a favourite of his, affirms that “He was excellent above all men in theft and perjury.” And so, you Exactly. and Homer and Simonides are agreed that justice is an art of But is the just man or the skillful player a more useful and theft; to be practiced however “for the good of friends and for better partner at a game of draughts? the harm of enemies,” Ð that was what you were saying? The skillful player. No, certainly not that, though I do not now know what I did And in the laying of bricks and stones is the just man a more say; but I still stand by the latter words. useful or better partner than the builder? Quite the reverse. Well, there is another question: By friends and enemies do Then in what sort of partnership is the just man a better we mean those who are so really, or only in seeming? partner than the harp-player, as in playing the harp the harp- Surely, he said, a man may be expected to love those whom player is certainly a better partner than the just man? he thinks good, and to hate those whom he thinks evil. In a money partnership. Yes, but do not persons often err about good and evil: many Yes, Polemarchus, but surely not in the use of money; for who are not good seem to be so, and conversely? you do not want a just man to be your counsellor in the pur- That is true. chase or sale of a horse; a man who is knowing about horses Then to them the good will be enemies and the evil will be would be better for that, would he not? their friends? Certainly. True. And when you want to buy a ship, the shipwright or the And in that case they will be right in doing good to the evil pilot would be better? and evil to the good? True. Clearly. Then what is that joint use of silver or gold in which the But the good are just and would not do an injustice? just man is to be preferred? True. When you want a deposit to be kept safely. Then according to your argument it is just to injure those You mean when money is not wanted, but allowed to lie? who do no wrong? Precisely. Nay, Socrates; the doctrine is immoral. 44

Then I suppose that we ought to do good to the just and Impossible. harm to the unjust? And the just is the good? I like that better. Certainly. But see the consequence: Ð Many a man who is ignorant Then to injure a friend or any one else is not the act of a just of human nature has friends who are bad friends, and in that man, but of the opposite, who is the unjust? case he ought to do harm to them; and he has good enemies I think that what you say is quite true, Socrates. whom he ought to benefit; but, if so, we shall be saying the Then if a man says that justice consists in the repayment very opposite of that which we affirmed to be the meaning of of debts, and that good is the debt which a man owes to his Simonides. friends, and evil the debt which he owes to his enemies, Ð to Very true, he said: and I think that we had better correct an say this is not wise; for it is not true, if, as has been clearly error into which we seem to have fallen in the use of the words shown, the injuring of another can be in no case just. “friend” and “enemy.” I agree with you, said Polemarchus. What was the error, Polemarchus? I asked. Then you and I are prepared to take up arms against any one We assumed that he is a friend who seems to be or who is who attributes such a saying to Simonides or Bias or Pittacus, thought good. or any other wise man or seer? And how is the error to be corrected? I am quite ready to do battle at your side, he said. We should rather say that he is a friend who is, as well as Shall I tell you whose I believe the saying to be? seems, good; and that he who seems only, and is not good, Whose? only seems to be and is not a friend; and of an enemy the same I believe that Periander or Perdiccas or Xerxes or Ismenias may be said. the Theban, or some other rich and mighty man, who had a You would argue that the good are our friends and the bad great opinion of his own power, was the first to say that justice our enemies? is “doing good to your friends and harm to your enemies.” Yes. Most true, he said. And instead of saying simply as we did at first, that it is just Yes, I said; but if this definition of justice also breaks down, to do good to our friends and harm to our enemies, we should what other can be offered? further say: It is just to do good to our friends when they are good and harm to our enemies when they are evil? Yes, that appears to me to be the truth. 3.1.3. Thrasymachus. Justice as the Interest of the Stronger But ought the just to injure any one at all? Undoubtedly he ought to injure those who are both wicked Several times in the course of the discussion Thrasymachus and his enemies. had made an attempt to get the argument into his own hands, When horses are injured, are they improved or deteriorated? and had been put down by the rest of the company, who The latter. wanted to hear the end. But when Polemarchus and I had Deteriorated, that is to say, in the good qualities of horses, done speaking and there was a pause, he could no longer hold not of dogs? his peace; and, gathering himself up, he came at us like a wild Yes, of horses. beast, seeking to devour us. We were quite panic-stricken at And dogs are deteriorated in the good qualities of dogs, and the sight of him. not of horses? He roared out to the whole company: What folly, Socrates, Of course. has taken possession of you all? And why, sillybillies, do you And will not men who are injured be deteriorated in that knock under to one another? I say that if you want really to which is the proper virtue of man? know what justice is, you should not only ask but answer, and Certainly. you should not seek honour to yourself from the refutation of And that human virtue is justice? an opponent, but have your own answer; for there is many a To be sure. one who can ask and cannot answer. And now I will not have Then men who are injured are of necessity made unjust? you say that justice is duty or advantage or profit or gain or That is the result. interest, for this sort of nonsense will not do for me; I must But can the musician by his art make men unmusical? have clearness and accuracy. Certainly not. I was panic-stricken at his words, and could not look at him Or the horseman by his art make them bad horsemen? without trembling. Indeed I believe that if I had not fixed my Impossible. eye upon him, I should have been struck dumb: but when I And can the just by justice make men unjust, or speaking saw his fury rising, I looked at him first, and was therefore generally, can the good by virtue make them bad? able to reply to him. Assuredly not. Thrasymachus, I said, with a quiver, don’t be hard upon us. Any more than heat can produce cold? Polemarchus and I may have been guilty of a little mistake It cannot. in the argument, but I can assure you that the error was not Or drought moisture? intentional. If we were seeking for a piece of gold, you would Clearly not. not imagine that we were “knocking under to one another,” Nor can the good harm any one? and so losing our chance of finding it. And why, when we are 45 seeking for justice, a thing more precious than many pieces of Thank you. gold, do you say that we are weakly yielding to one another That I learn of others, I replied, is quite true; but that I am and not doing our utmost to get at the truth? Nay, my good ungrateful I wholly deny. Money I have none, and therefore I friend, we are most willing and anxious to do so, but the fact pay in praise, which is all I have: and how ready I am to praise is that we cannot. And if so, you people who know all things any one who appears to me to speak well you will very soon should pity us and not be angry with us. find out when you answer; for I expect that you will answer How characteristic of Socrates! he replied, with a bitter well. laugh; Ð that’s your ironical style! Did I not foresee Ð have Listen, then, he said; I proclaim that justice is nothing else I not already told you, that whatever he was asked he would than the interest of the stronger. And now why do you not refuse to answer, and try irony or any other shuffle, in order praise me? But of course you won’t. that he might avoid answering? Let me first understand you, I replied. Justice, as you say, is You are a philosopher, Thrasymachus, I replied, and well the interest of the stronger. What, Thrasymachus, is the mean- know that if you ask a person what numbers make up twelve, ing of this? You cannot mean to say that because Polydamas, taking care to prohibit him whom you ask from answering the pancratiast, is stronger than we are, and finds the eating twice six, or three times four, or six times two, or four times of beef conducive to his bodily strength, that to eat beef is three, “for this sort of nonsense will not do for me,” Ð then therefore equally for our good who are weaker than he is, and obviously, that is your way of putting the question, no one right and just for us? can answer you. But suppose that he were to retort, “Thrasy- That’s abominable of you, Socrates; you take the words in machus, what do you mean? If one of these numbers which the sense which is most damaging to the argument. you interdict be the true answer to the question, am I falsely Not at all, my good sir, I said; I am trying to understand to say some other number which is not the right one? Ð is that them; and I wish that you would be a little clearer. your meaning?” Ð How would you answer him? Well, he said, have you never heard that forms of govern- Just as if the two cases were at all alike! he said. ment differ; there are tyrannies, and there are democracies, Why should they not be? I replied; and even if they are not, and there are aristocracies? but only appear to be so to the person who is asked, ought he Yes, I know. not to say what he thinks, whether you and I forbid him or And the government is the ruling power in each state? not? Certainly. I presume then that you are going to make one of the inter- And the different forms of government make laws demo- dicted answers? cratical, aristocratical, tyrannical, with a view to their several I dare say that I may, notwithstanding the danger, if upon interests; and these laws, which are made by them for their reflection I approve of any of them. own interests, are the justice which they deliver to their sub- But what if I give you an answer about justice other and jects, and him who transgresses them they punish as a breaker better, he said, than any of these? What do you deserve to of the law, and unjust. And that is what I mean when I say have done to you? that in all states there is the same principle of justice, which Done to me! Ð as becomes the ignorant, I must learn from is the interest of the government; and as the government must the wise Ð that is what I deserve to have done to me. be supposed to have power, the only reasonable conclusion is, What, and no payment! a pleasant notion! that everywhere there is one principle of justice, which is the I will pay when I have the money, I replied. interest of the stronger. But you have, Socrates, said Glaucon: and you, Thrasy- Now I understand you, I said; and whether you are right or machus, need be under no anxiety about money, for we will not I will try to discover. But let me remark, that in defining all make a contribution for Socrates. justice you have yourself used the word “interest” which you Yes, he replied, and then Socrates will do as he always forbade me to use. It is true, however, that in your definition does Ð refuse to answer himself, but take and pull to pieces the words “of the stronger” are added. the answer of some one else. A small addition, you must allow, he said. Why, my good friend, I said, how can any one answer who Great or small, never mind about that: we must first enquire knows, and says that he knows, just nothing; and who, even if whether what you are saying is the truth. Now we are both he has some faint notions of his own, is told by a man of au- agreed that justice is interest of some sort, but you go on to thority not to utter them? The natural thing is, that the speaker say “of the stronger”; about this addition I am not so sure, and should be some one like yourself who professes to know and must therefore consider further. can tell what he knows. Will you then kindly answer, for the Proceed. edification of the company and of myself? I will; and first tell me, Do you admit that it is just for sub- Glaucon and the rest of the company joined in my request jects to obey their rulers? and Thrasymachus, as any one might see, was in reality eager I do. to speak; for he thought that he had an excellent answer, and But are the rulers of states absolutely infallible, or are they would distinguish himself. But at first he affected to insist on sometimes liable to err? my answering; at length he consented to begin. Behold, he To be sure, he replied, they are liable to err. said, the wisdom of Socrates; he refuses to teach himself, and Then in making their laws they may sometimes make them goes about learning of others, to whom he never even says rightly, and sometimes not? 46

True. we say that the physician or arithmetician or grammarian has When they make them rightly, they make them agreeably to made a mistake, but this is only a way of speaking; for the fact their interest; when they are mistaken, contrary to their inter- is that neither the grammarian nor any other person of skill est; you admit that? ever makes a mistake in so far as he is what his name implies; Yes. they none of them err unless their skill fails them, and then And the laws which they make must be obeyed by their they cease to be skilled artists. No artist or sage or ruler errs subjects, Ð and that is what you call justice? at the time when he is what his name implies; though he is Doubtless. commonly said to err, and I adopted the common mode of Then justice, according to your argument, is not only obe- speaking. But to be perfectly accurate, since you are such a dience to the interest of the stronger but the reverse? lover of accuracy, we should say that the ruler, in so far as he What is that you are saying? he asked. is a ruler, is unerring, and, being unerring, always commands I am only repeating what you are saying, I believe. But that which is for his own interest; and the subject is required let us consider: Have we not admitted that the rulers may be to execute his commands; and therefore, as I said at first and mistaken about their own interest in what they command, and now repeat, justice is the interest of the stronger. also that to obey them is justice? Has not that been admitted? Indeed, Thrasymachus, and do I really appear to you to ar- Yes. gue like an informer? Then you must also have acknowledged justice not to be Certainly, he replied. for the interest of the stronger, when the rulers unintention- And you suppose that I ask these questions with any design ally command things to be done which are to their own injury. of injuring you in the argument? For if, as you say, justice is the obedience which the subject Nay, he replied, “suppose” is not the word Ð I know it; but renders to their commands, in that case, O wisest of men, is you will be found out, and by sheer force of argument you there any escape from the conclusion that the weaker are com- will never prevail. manded to do, not what is for the interest, but what is for the I shall not make the attempt, my dear man; but to avoid injury of the stronger? any misunderstanding occurring between us in future, let me Nothing can be clearer, Socrates, said Polemarchus. ask, in what sense do you speak of a ruler or stronger whose Yes, said Cleitophon, interposing, if you are allowed to be interest, as you were saying, he being the superior, it is just his witness. that the inferior should execute Ð is he a ruler in the popular But there is no need of any witness, said Polemarchus, for or in the strict sense of the term? Thrasymachus himself acknowledges that rulers may some- In the strictest of all senses, he said. And now cheat and times command what is not for their own interest, and that for play the informer if you can; I ask no quarter at your hands. subjects to obey them is justice. But you never will be able, never. Yes, Polemarchus, Ð Thrasymachus said that for subjects to And do you imagine, I said, that I am such a madman as to do what was commanded by their rulers is just. try and cheat Thrasymachus? I might as well shave a lion. Yes, Cleitophon, but he also said that justice is the interest Why, he said, you made the attempt a minute ago, and you of the stronger, and, while admitting both these propositions, failed. he further acknowledged that the stronger may command the Enough, I said, of these civilities. It will be better that I weaker who are his subjects to do what is not for his own in- should ask you a question: Is the physician, taken in that strict terest; whence follows that justice is the injury quite as much sense of which you are speaking, a healer of the sick or a as the interest of the stronger. maker of money? And remember that I am now speaking of But, said Cleitophon, he meant by the interest of the the true physician. stronger what the stronger thought to be his interest, Ð this A healer of the sick, he replied. was what the weaker had to do; and this was affirmed by him And the pilot Ð that is to say, the true pilot Ð is he a captain to be justice. of sailors or a mere sailor? Those were not his words, rejoined Polemarchus. A captain of sailors. Never mind, I replied, if he now says that they are, let us The circumstance that he sails in the ship is not to be taken accept his statement. Tell me, Thrasymachus, I said, did you into account; neither is he to be called a sailor; the name pi- mean by justice what the stronger thought to be his interest, lot by which he is distinguished has nothing to do with sail- whether really so or not? ing, but is significant of his skill and of his authority over the Certainly not, he said. Do you suppose that I call him who sailors. is mistaken the stronger at the time when he is mistaken? Very true, he said. Yes, I said, my impression was that you did so, when you admitted that the ruler was not infallible but might be some- Now, I said, every art has an interest? times mistaken. Certainly. You argue like an informer, Socrates. Do you mean, for For which the art has to consider and provide? example, that he who is mistaken about the sick is a physician Yes, that is the aim of art. in that he is mistaken? or that he who errs in arithmetic or And the interest of any art is the perfection of it Ð this and grammar is an arithmetician or grammarian at the time when nothing else? he is making the mistake, in respect of the mistake? True, What do you mean? 47

I mean what I may illustrate negatively by the example of When we had got to this point in the argument, and every the body. Suppose you were to ask me whether the body is one saw that the definition of justice had been completely up- self-sufficing or has wants, I should reply: Certainly the body set, Thrasymachus, instead of replying to me, said: Tell me, has wants; for the body may be ill and require to be cured, and Socrates, have you got a nurse? has therefore interests to which the art of medicine ministers; Why do you ask such a question, I said, when you ought and this is the origin and intention of medicine, as you will rather to be answering? acknowledge. Am I not right? Because she leaves you to snivel, and never wipes your Quite right, he replied. nose: she has not even taught you to know the shepherd from But is the art of medicine or any other art faulty or deficient the sheep. in any quality in the same way that the eye may be deficient in What makes you say that? I replied. sight or the ear fail of hearing, and therefore requires another Because you fancy that the shepherd or neatherd fattens or art to provide for the interests of seeing and hearing Ð has tends the sheep or oxen with a view to their own good and not art in itself, I say, any similar liability to fault or defect, and to the good of himself or his master; and you further imagine does every art require another supplementary art to provide that the rulers of states, if they are true rulers, never think of for its interests, and that another and another without end? Or their subjects as sheep, and that they are not studying their have the arts to look only after their own interests? Or have own advantage day and night. Oh, no; and so entirely astray they no need either of themselves or of another? Ð having no are you in your ideas about the just and unjust as not even to faults or defects, they have no need to correct them, either by know that justice and the just are in reality another’s good; the exercise of their own art or of any other; they have only that is to say, the interest of the ruler and stronger, and the loss to consider the interest of their subject-matter. For every art of the subject and servant; and injustice the opposite; for the remains pure and faultless while remaining true Ð that is to unjust is lord over the truly simple and just: he is the stronger, say, while perfect and unimpaired. Take the words in your and his subjects do what is for his interest, and minister to his precise sense, and tell me whether I am not right. happiness, which is very far from being their own. Consider Yes, clearly. further, most foolish Socrates, that the just is always a loser in Then medicine does not consider the interest of medicine, comparison with the unjust. First of all, in private contracts: but the interest of the body? wherever the unjust is the partner of the just you will find that, True, he said. when the partnership is dissolved, the unjust man has always Nor does the art of horsemanship consider the interests of more and the just less. Secondly, in their dealings with the the art of horsemanship, but the interests of the horse; neither State: when there is an income tax, the just man will pay more do any other arts care for themselves, for they have no needs; and the unjust less on the same amount of income; and when they care only for that which is the subject of their art? there is anything to be received the one gains nothing and the True, he said. other much. Observe also what happens when they take an But surely, Thrasymachus, the arts are the superiors and office; there is the just man neglecting his affairs and perhaps rulers of their own subjects? suffering other losses, and getting nothing out of the public, To this he assented with a good deal of reluctance. because he is just; moreover he is hated by his friends and ac- Then, I said, no science or art considers or enjoins the in- quaintance for refusing to serve them in unlawful ways. But terest of the stronger or superior, but only the interest of the all this is reversed in the case of the unjust man. I am speak- subject and weaker? ing, as before, of injustice on a large scale in which the ad- He made an attempt to contest this proposition also, but vantage of the unjust is more apparent; and my meaning will finally acquiesced. be most clearly seen if we turn to that highest form of injustice Then, I continued, no physician, in so far as he is a physi- in which the criminal is the happiest of men, and the sufferers cian, considers his own good in what he prescribes, but the or those who refuse to do injustice are the most miserable Ð good of his patient; for the true physician is also a ruler having that is to say tyranny, which by fraud and force takes away the the human body as a subject, and is not a mere money-maker; property of others, not little by little but wholesale; compre- that has been admitted? hending in one, things sacred as well as profane, private and Yes. public; for which acts of wrong, if he were detected perpetrat- And the pilot likewise, in the strict sense of the term, is a ing any one of them singly, he would be punished and incur ruler of sailors and not a mere sailor? great disgrace Ð they who do such wrong in particular cases That has been admitted. are called robbers of temples, and man-stealers and burglars And such a pilot and ruler will provide and prescribe for the and swindlers and thieves. But when a man besides taking interest of the sailor who is under him, and not for his own or away the money of the citizens has made slaves of them, then, the ruler’s interest? instead of these names of reproach, he is termed happy and He gave a reluctant “Yes.” blessed, not only by the citizens but by all who hear of his Then, I said, Thrasymachus, there is no one in any rule who, having achieved the consummation of injustice. For mankind in so far as he is a ruler, considers or enjoins what is for his censure injustice, fearing that they may be the victims of it own interest, but always what is for the interest of his sub- and not because they shrink from committing it. And thus, as ject or suitable to his art; to that he looks, and that alone he I have shown, Socrates, injustice, when on a sufficient scale, considers in everything which he says and does. has more strength and freedom and mastery than justice; and, 48 as I said at first, justice is the interest of the stronger, whereas by reason of their each having a separate function? And, my injustice is a man’s own profit and interest. dear illustrious friend, do say what you think, that we may Thrasymachus, when he had thus spoken, having, like a make a little progress. bathman, deluged our ears with his words, had a mind to go Yes, that is the difference, he replied. away. But the company would not let him; they insisted that And each art gives us a particular good and not merely a he should remain and defend his position; and I myself added general one Ð medicine, for example, gives us health; naviga- my own humble request that he would not leave us. Thrasy- tion, safety at sea, and so on? machus, I said to him, excellent man, how suggestive are your Yes, he said. remarks! And are you going to run away before you have And the art of payment has the special function of giving fairly taught or learned whether they are true or not? Is the pay: but we do not confuse this with other arts, any more than attempt to determine the way of man’s life so small a matter the art of the pilot is to be confused with the art of medicine, in your eyes Ð to determine how life may be passed by each because the health of the pilot may be improved by a sea voy- one of us to the greatest advantage? age. You would not be inclined to say, would you, that navi- And do I differ from you, he said, as to the importance of gation is the art of medicine, at least if we are to adopt your the enquiry? exact use of language? You appear rather, I replied, to have no care or thought Certainly not. about us, Thrasymachus Ð whether we live better or worse Or because a man is in good health when he receives pay from not knowing what you say you know, is to you a matter you would not say that the art of payment is medicine? of indifference. Prithee, friend, do not keep your knowledge I should say not. to yourself; we are a large party; and any benefit which you Nor would you say that medicine is the art of receiving pay confer upon us will be amply rewarded. For my own part because a man takes fees when he is engaged in healing? I openly declare that I am not convinced, and that I do not Certainly not. believe injustice to be more gainful than justice, even if un- And we have admitted, I said, that the good of each art is controlled and allowed to have free play. For, granting that specially confined to the art? there may be an unjust man who is able to commit injustice Yes. either by fraud or force, still this does not convince me of the Then, if there be any good which all artists have in com- superior advantage of injustice, and there may be others who mon, that is to be attributed to something of which they all are in the same predicament with myself. Perhaps we may be have the common use? wrong; if so, you in your wisdom should convince us that we True, he replied. are mistaken in preferring justice to injustice. And when the artist is benefited by receiving pay the advan- And how am I to convince you, he said, if you are not al- tage is gained by an additional use of the art of pay, which is ready convinced by what I have just said; what more can I do not the art professed by him? for you? Would you have me put the proof bodily into your He gave a reluctant assent to this. souls? Then the pay is not derived by the several artists from their Heaven forbid! I said; I would only ask you to be consis- respective arts. But the truth is, that while the art of medicine tent; or, if you change, change openly and let there be no de- gives health, and the art of the builder builds a house, another ception. For I must remark, Thrasymachus, if you will recall art attends them which is the art of pay. The various arts may what was previously said, that although you began by defining be doing their own business and benefiting that over which the true physician in an exact sense, you did not observe a like they preside, but would the artist receive any benefit from his exactness when speaking of the shepherd; you thought that art unless he were paid as well? the shepherd as a shepherd tends the sheep not with a view to I suppose not. their own good, but like a mere diner or banqueter with a view But does he therefore confer no benefit when he works for to the pleasures of the table; or, again, as a trader for sale in nothing? the market, and not as a shepherd. Yet surely the art of the Certainly, he confers a benefit. shepherd is concerned only with the good of his subjects; he Then now, Thrasymachus, there is no longer any doubt that has only to provide the best for them, since the perfection of neither arts nor governments provide for their own interests; the art is already ensured whenever all the requirements of it but, as we were before saying, they rule and provide for the are satisfied. And that was what I was saying just now about interests of their subjects who are the weaker and not the the ruler. I conceived that the art of the ruler, considered as stronger Ð to their good they attend and not to the good of ruler, whether in a state or in private life, could only regard the superior. And this is the reason, my dear Thrasymachus, the good of his flock or subjects; whereas you seem to think why, as I was just now saying, no one is willing to govern; that the rulers in states, that is to say, the true rulers, like being because no one likes to take in hand the reformation of evils in authority. which are not his concern without remuneration. For, in the Think! Nay, I am sure of it. execution of his work, and in giving his orders to another, the Then why in the case of lesser offices do men never take true artist does not regard his own interest, but always that of them willingly without payment, unless under the idea that his subjects; and therefore in order that rulers may be willing they govern for the advantage not of themselves but of others? to rule, they must be paid in one of three modes of payment: Let me ask you a question: Are not the several arts different, money, or honour, or a penalty for refusing. 49

What do you mean, Socrates? said Glaucon. The first as we lately did, by making admissions to one another, we two modes of payment are intelligible enough, but what the shall unite the offices of judge and advocate in our own per- penalty is I do not understand, or how a penalty can be a pay- sons. ment. Very good, he said. You mean that you do not understand the nature of this pay- And which method do I understand you to prefer? I said. ment which to the best men is the great inducement to rule? That which you propose. Of course you know that ambition and avarice are held to be, Well, then, Thrasymachus, I said, suppose you begin at the as indeed they are, a disgrace? beginning and answer me. You say that perfect injustice is Very true. more gainful than perfect justice? And for this reason, I said, money and honour have no at- Yes, that is what I say, and I have given you my reasons. traction for them; good men do not wish to be openly demand- And what is your view about them? Would you call one of ing payment for governing and so to get the name of hirelings, them virtue and the other vice? nor by secretly helping themselves out of the public revenues Certainly. to get the name of thieves. And not being ambitious they I suppose that you would call justice virtue and injustice do not care about honour. Wherefore necessity must be laid vice? upon them, and they must be induced to serve from the fear What a charming notion! So likely too, seeing that I affirm of punishment. And this, as I imagine, is the reason why the injustice to be profitable and justice not. forwardness to take office, instead of waiting to be compelled, What else then would you say? has been deemed dishonourable. Now the worst part of the The opposite, he replied. punishment is that he who refuses to rule is liable to be ruled And would you call justice vice? by one who is worse than himself. And the fear of this, as No, I would rather say sublime simplicity. I conceive, induces the good to take office, not because they Then would you call injustice malignity? would, but because they cannot help Ð not under the idea that No; I would rather say discretion. they are going to have any benefit or enjoyment themselves, And do the unjust appear to you to be wise and good? but as a necessity, and because they are not able to commit the Yes, he said; at any rate those of them who are able to be task of ruling to any one who is better than themselves, or perfectly unjust, and who have the power of subduing states indeed as good. For there is reason to think that if a city were and nations; but perhaps you imagine me to be talking of cut- composed entirely of good men, then to avoid office would purses. Even this profession if undetected has advantages, be as much an object of contention as to obtain office is at though they are not to be compared with those of which I present; then we should have plain proof that the true ruler is was just now speaking. not meant by nature to regard his own interest, but that of his I do not think that I misapprehend your meaning, Thrasy- subjects; and every one who knew this would choose rather to machus, I replied; but still I cannot hear without amazement receive a benefit from another than to have the trouble of con- that you class injustice with wisdom and virtue, and justice ferring one. So far am I from agreeing with Thrasymachus with the opposite. that justice is the interest of the stronger. This latter question Certainly I do so class them. need not be further discussed at present; but ... Now, I said, you are on more substantial and almost unan- swerable ground; for if the injustice which you were main- taining to be profitable had been admitted by you as by others 3.1.4. Thrasymachus. Is Injustice More Profitable than to be vice and deformity, an answer might have been given Justice? to you on received principles; but now I perceive that you will call injustice honourable and strong, and to the unjust you will ... hen Thrasymachus says that the life of the unjust is more attribute all the qualities which were attributed by us before to advantageous than that of the just, his new statement appears the just, seeing that you do not hesitate to rank injustice with to me to be of a far more serious character. Which of us has wisdom and virtue. spoken truly? And which sort of life, Glaucon, do you prefer? You have guessed most infallibly, he replied. I for my part deem the life of the just to be the more advan- Then I certainly ought not to shrink from going through tageous, he answered. with the argument so long as I have reason to think that you, Did you hear all the advantages of the unjust which Thrasy- Thrasymachus, are speaking your real mind; for I do believe machus was rehearsing? that you are now in earnest and are not amusing yourself at Yes, I heard him, he replied, but he has not convinced me. our expense. Then shall we try to find some way of convincing him, if I may be in earnest or not, but what is that to you? Ð to we can, that he is saying what is not true? refute the argument is your business. Most certainly, he replied. Very true, I said; that is what I have to do: But will you be If, I said, he makes a set speech and we make another re- so good as answer yet one more question? Does the just man counting all the advantages of being just, and he answers and try to gain any advantage over the just? we rejoin, there must be a numbering and measuring of the Far otherwise; if he did he would not be the simple amusing goods which are claimed on either side, and in the end we creature which he is. shall want judges to decide; but if we proceed in our enquiry And would he try to go beyond just action? 50

He would not. another man who has knowledge. Would he not rather say or And how would he regard the attempt to gain an advantage do the same as his like in the same case? over the unjust; would that be considered by him as just or That, I suppose, can hardly be denied. unjust? And what of the ignorant? would he not desire to have more He would think it just, and would try to gain the advantage; than either the knowing or the ignorant? but he would not be able. I dare say. Whether he would or would not be able, I said, is not to And the knowing is wise? the point. My question is only whether the just man, while Yes. refusing to have more than another just man, would wish and And the wise is good? claim to have more than the unjust? True. Yes, he would. Then the wise and good will not desire to gain more than And what of the unjust Ð does he claim to have more than his like, but more than his unlike and opposite? the just man and to do more than is just? I suppose so. Of course, he said, for he claims to have more than all men. Whereas the bad and ignorant will desire to gain more than And the unjust man will strive and struggle to obtain more both? than the unjust man or action, in order that he may have more Yes. than all? But did we not say, Thrasymachus, that the unjust goes be- True. yond both his like and unlike? Were not these your words? We may put the matter thus, I said Ð the just does not desire They were. more than his like but more than his unlike, whereas the unjust And you also said that the just will not go beyond his like desires more than both his like and his unlike? but his unlike? Nothing, he said, can be better than that statement. Yes. And the unjust is good and wise, and the just is neither? Then the just is like the wise and good, and the unjust like Good again, he said. the evil and ignorant? And is not the unjust like the wise and good and the just That is the inference. unlike them? And each of them is such as his like is? Of course, he said, he who is of a certain nature, is like That was admitted. those who are of a certain nature; he who is not, not. Then the just has turned out to be wise and good and the Each of them, I said, is such as his like is? unjust evil and ignorant. Certainly, he replied. Thrasymachus made all these admissions, not fluently, as Very good, Thrasymachus, I said; and now to take the case I repeat them, but with extreme reluctance; it was a hot sum- of the arts: you would admit that one man is a musician and mer’s day, and the perspiration poured from him in torrents; another not a musician? and then I saw what I had never seen before, Thrasymachus Yes. blushing. As we were now agreed that justice was virtue and And which is wise and which is foolish? wisdom, and injustice vice and ignorance, I proceeded to an- Clearly the musician is wise, and he who is not a musician other point: is foolish. Well, I said, Thrasymachus, that matter is now settled; but And he is good in as far as he is wise, and bad in as far as were we not also saying that injustice had strength; do you he is foolish? remember? Yes. Yes, I remember, he said, but do not suppose that I approve And you would say the same sort of thing of the physician? of what you are saying or have no answer; if however I were Yes. to answer, you would be quite certain to accuse me of ha- And do you think, my excellent friend, that a musician ranguing; therefore either permit me to have my say out, or if when he adjusts the lyre would desire or claim to exceed or go you would rather ask, do so, and I will answer “Very good,” as beyond a musician in the tightening and loosening the strings? they say to story-telling old women, and will nod “Yes” and I do not think that he would. “No.” But he would claim to exceed the non-musician? Certainly not, I said, if contrary to your real opinion. Of course. Yes, he said, I will, to please you, since you will not let me And what would you say of the physician? In prescribing speak. What else would you have? meats and drinks would he wish to go beyond another physi- Nothing in the world, I said; and if you are so disposed I cian or beyond the practice of medicine? will ask and you shall answer. He would not. Proceed. But he would wish to go beyond the non-physician? Then I will repeat the question which I asked before, in or- Yes. der that our examination of the relative nature of justice and And about knowledge and ignorance in general; see injustice may be carried on regularly. A statement was made whether you think that any man who has knowledge ever that injustice is stronger and more powerful than justice, but would wish to have the choice of saying or doing more than now justice, having been identified with wisdom and virtue, 51 is easily shown to be stronger than injustice, if injustice is ig- Yes. norance; this can no longer be questioned by any one. But And O my friend, I said, surely the gods are just? I want to view the matter, Thrasymachus, in a different way: Granted that they are. You would not deny that a state may be unjust and may be But if so, the unjust will be the enemy of the gods, and the unjustly attempting to enslave other states, or may have al- just will be their friend? ready enslaved them, and may be holding many of them in Feast away in triumph, and take your fill of the argument; I subjection? will not oppose you, lest I should displease the company. True, he replied; and I will add the best and perfectly unjust Well then, proceed with your answers, and let me have the state will be most likely to do so. remainder of my repast. For we have already shown that the I know, I said, that such was your position; but what I would just are clearly wiser and better and abler than the unjust, and further consider is, whether this power which is possessed by that the unjust are incapable of common action; nay more, the superior state can exist or be exercised without justice or that to speak as we did of men who are evil acting at any time only with justice. vigorously together, is not strictly true, for if they had been If you are right in you view, and justice is wisdom, then perfectly evil, they would have laid hands upon one another; only with justice; but if I am right, then without justice. but it is evident that there must have been some remnant of I am delighted, Thrasymachus, to see you not only nodding justice in them, which enabled them to combine; if there had assent and dissent, but making answers which are quite excel- not been they would have injured one another as well as their lent. victims; they were but half-villains in their enterprises; for had That is out of civility to you, he replied. they been whole villains, and utterly unjust, they would have You are very kind, I said; and would you have the goodness been utterly incapable of action. That, as I believe, is the truth also to inform me, whether you think that a state, or an army, of the matter, and not what you said at first. But whether the or a band of robbers and thieves, or any other gang of evil- just have a better and happier life than the unjust is a further doers could act at all if they injured one another? question which we also proposed to consider. I think that they No indeed, he said, they could not. have, and for the reasons which to have given; but still I should But if they abstained from injuring one another, then they like to examine further, for no light matter is at stake, nothing might act together better? less than the rule of human life. Yes. Proceed. And this is because injustice creates divisions and hatreds I will proceed by asking a question: Would you not say that and fighting, and justice imparts harmony and friendship; is a horse has some end? not that true, Thrasymachus? I should. I agree, he said, because I do not wish to quarrel with you. And the end or use of a horse or of anything would be How good of you, I said; but I should like to know also that which could not be accomplished, or not so well accom- whether injustice, having this tendency to arouse hatred, wher- plished, by any other thing? ever existing, among slaves or among freemen, will not make I do not understand, he said. them hate one another and set them at variance and render Let me explain: Can you see, except with the eye? them incapable of common action? Certainly not. Certainly. Or hear, except with the ear? And even if injustice be found in two only, will they not No. quarrel and fight, and become enemies to one another and to These then may be truly said to be the ends of these organs? the just? They may. They will. But you can cut off a vine-branch with a dagger or with a And suppose injustice abiding in a single person, would chisel, and in many other ways? your wisdom say that she loses or that she retains her natu- Of course. ral power? And yet not so well as with a pruning-hook made for the Let us assume that she retains her power. purpose? Yet is not the power which injustice exercises of such a na- True. ture that wherever she takes up her abode, whether in a city, May we not say that this is the end of a pruning-hook? in an army, in a family, or in any other body, that body is, to We may. begin with, rendered incapable of united action by reason of Then now I think you will have no difficulty in understand- sedition and distraction; and does it not become its own en- ing my meaning when I asked the question whether the end of emy and at variance with all that opposes it, and with the just? anything would be that which could not be accomplished, or Is not this the case? not so well accomplished, by any other thing? Yes, certainly. I understand your meaning, he said, and assent. And is not injustice equally fatal when existing in a single And that to which an end is appointed has also an excel- person; in the first place rendering him incapable of action lence? Need I ask again whether the eye has an end? because he is not at unity with himself, and in the second place It has. making him an enemy to himself and the just? Is not that true, And has not the eye an excellence? Thrasymachus? Yes. 52

And the ear has an end and an excellence also? gone from one subject to another without having discovered True. what I sought at first, the nature of justice. I left that enquiry And the same is true of all other things; they have each of and turned away to consider whether justice is virtue and wis- them an end and a special excellence? dom or evil and folly; and when there arose a further question That is so. about the comparative advantages of justice and injustice, I Well, and can the eyes fulfill their end if they are wanting could not refrain from passing on to that. And the result of in their own proper excellence and have a defect instead? the whole discussion has been that I know nothing at all. For I How can they, he said, if they are blind and cannot see? know not what justice is, and therefore I am not likely to know You mean to say, if they have lost their proper excellence, whether it is or is not a virtue, nor can I say whether the just which is sight; but I have not arrived at that point yet. I man is happy or unhappy. would rather ask the question more generally, and only en- quire whether the things which fulfill their ends fulfill them by their own proper excellence, and fall of fulfilling them by 3.2. Justice in the State and in the Individual their own defect? Certainly, he replied. 3.2.1. The Problem Stated I might say the same of the ears; when deprived of their own proper excellence they cannot fulfill their end? With these words I was thinking that I had made an end of True. the discussion; but the end, in truth, proved to be only a be- And the same observation will apply to all other things? ginning. For Glaucon, who is always the most pugnacious of I agree. men, was dissatisfied at Thrasymachus’ retirement; he wanted Well; and has not the soul an end which nothing else can to have the battle out. So he said to me: Socrates, do you wish fulfill? for example, to superintend and command and delib- really to persuade us, or only to seem to have persuaded us, erate and the like. Are not these functions proper to the soul, that to be just is always better than to be unjust? and can they rightly be assigned to any other? I should wish really to persuade you, I replied, if I could. To no other. Then you certainly have not succeeded. Let me ask you And is not life to be reckoned among the ends of the soul? now: Ð How would you arrange goods Ð are there not some Assuredly, he said. which we welcome for their own sakes, and independently of And has not the soul an excellence also? their consequences, as, for example, harmless pleasures and Yes. enjoyments, which delight us at the time, although nothing And can she or can she not fulfill her own ends when de- follows from them? prived of that excellence? I agree in thinking that there is such a class, I replied. She cannot. Is there not also a second class of goods, such as knowl- Then an evil soul must necessarily be an evil ruler and su- edge, sight, health, which are desirable not only in themselves, perintendent, and the good soul a good ruler? but also for their results? Yes, necessarily. Certainly, I said. And we have admitted that justice is the excellence of the And would you not recognize a third class, such as gym- soul, and injustice the defect of the soul? nastic, and the care of the sick, and the physician’s art; also That has been admitted. the various ways of money-making Ð these do us good but we Then the just soul and the just man will live well, and the regard them as disagreeable; and no one would choose them unjust man will live ill? for their own sakes, but only for the sake of some reward or That is what your argument proves. result which flows from them? And he who lives well is blessed and happy, and he who There is, I said, this third class also. But why do you ask? lives ill the reverse of happy? Because I want to know in which of the three classes you Certainly. would place justice? Then the just is happy, and the unjust miserable? In the highest class, I replied, Ð among those goods which So be it. he who would be happy desires both for their own sake and But happiness and not misery is profitable. for the sake of their results. Of course. Then the many are of another mind; they think that justice is Then, my blessed Thrasymachus, injustice can never be to be reckoned in the troublesome class, among goods which more profitable than justice. are to be pursued for the sake of rewards and of reputation, Let this, Socrates, he said, be your entertainment at the Ben- but in themselves are disagreeable and rather to be avoided. didea. I know, I said, that this is their manner of thinking, and that For which I am indebted to you, I said, now that you have this was the thesis which Thrasymachus was maintaining just grown gentle towards me and have left off scolding. Never- now, when he censured justice and praised injustice. But I am theless, I have not been well entertained; but that was my too stupid to be convinced by him. own fault and not yours. As an epicure snatches a taste of I wish, he said, that you would hear me as well as him, and every dish which is successively brought to table, he not hav- then I shall see whether you and I agree. For Thrasymachus ing allowed himself time to enjoy the one before, so have I seems to me, like a snake, to have been charmed by your voice 53 sooner than he ought to have been; but to my mind the nature shepherd in the service of the king of Lydia; there was a great of justice and injustice have not yet been made clear. Set- storm, and an earthquake made an opening in the earth at the ting aside their rewards and results, I want to know what they place where he was feeding his flock. Amazed at the sight, are in themselves, and how they inwardly work in the soul. he descended into the opening, where, among other marvels, If you, please, then, I will revive the argument of Thrasy- he beheld a hollow brazen horse, having doors, at which he machus. And first I will speak of the nature and origin of stooping and looking in saw a dead body of stature, as ap- justice according to the common view of them. Secondly, I peared to him, more than human, and having nothing on but will show that all men who practice justice do so against their a gold ring; this he took from the finger of the dead and reas- will, of necessity, but not as a good. And thirdly, I will argue cended. Now the shepherds met together, according to cus- that there is reason in this view, for the life of the unjust is tom, that they might send their monthly report about the flocks after all better far than the life of the just Ð if what they say to the king; into their assembly he came having the ring on his is true, Socrates, since I myself am not of their opinion. But finger, and as he was sitting among them he chanced to turn still I acknowledge that I am perplexed when I hear the voices the collet of the ring inside his hand, when instantly he became of Thrasymachus and myriads of others dinning in my ears; invisible to the rest of the company and they began to speak and, on the other hand, I have never yet heard the superiority of him as if he were no longer present. He was astonished at of justice to injustice maintained by any one in a satisfactory this, and again touching the ring he turned the collet outwards way. I want to hear justice praised in respect of itself; then I and reappeared; he made several trials of the ring, and always shall be satisfied, and you are the person from whom I think with the same result Ð when he turned the collet inwards he that I am most likely to hear this; and therefore I will praise became invisible, when outwards he reappeared. Whereupon the unjust life to the utmost of my power, and my manner of he contrived to be chosen one of the messengers who were speaking will indicate the manner in which I desire to hear sent to the court; where as soon as he arrived he seduced the you too praising justice and censuring injustice. Will you say queen, and with her help conspired against the king and slew whether you approve of my proposal? him, and took the kingdom. Suppose now that there were two Indeed I do; nor can I imagine any theme about which a such magic rings, and the just put on one of them and the un- man of sense would oftener wish to converse. just the other; no man can be imagined to be of such an iron I am delighted, he replied, to hear you say so, and shall nature that he would stand fast in justice. No man would keep begin by speaking, as I proposed, of the nature and origin of his hands off what was not his own when he could safely take justice. what he liked out of the market, or go into houses and lie with They say that to do injustice is, by nature, good; to suffer any one at his pleasure, or kill or release from prison whom he injustice, evil; but that the evil is greater than the good. And would, and in all respects be like a God among men. Then the so when men have both done and suffered injustice and have actions of the just would be as the actions of the unjust; they had experience of both, not being able to avoid the one and would both come at last to the same point. And this we may obtain the other, they think that they had better agree among truly affirm to be a great proof that a man is just, not willingly themselves to have neither; hence there arise laws and mutual or because he thinks that justice is any good to him individu- covenants; and that which is ordained by law is termed by ally, but of necessity, for wherever any one thinks that he can them lawful and just. This they affirm to be the origin and safely be unjust, there he is unjust. For all men believe in nature of justice; Ð it is a mean or compromise, between the their hearts that injustice is far more profitable to the individ- best of all, which is to do injustice and not be punished, and ual than justice, and he who argues as I have been supposing, the worst of all, which is to suffer injustice without the power will say that they are right. If you could imagine any one ob- of retaliation; and justice, being at a middle point between taining this power of becoming invisible, and never doing any the two, is tolerated not as a good, but as the lesser evil, and wrong or touching what was another’s, he would be thought honoured by reason of the inability of men to do injustice. For by the lookers Ð on to be a most wretched idiot, although they no man who is worthy to be called a man would ever submit would praise him to one another’s faces, and keep up appear- to such an agreement if he were able to resist; he would be ances with one another from a fear that they too might suffer mad if he did. Such is the received account, Socrates, of the injustice. Enough of this. nature and origin of justice. Now, if we are to form a real judgment of the life of the just Now that those who practice justice do so involuntarily and and unjust, we must isolate them; there is no other way; and because they have not the power to be unjust will best appear how is the isolation to be effected? I answer: Let the unjust if we imagine something of this kind: having given both to man be entirely unjust, and the just man entirely just; noth- the just and the unjust power to do what they will, let us watch ing is to be taken away from either of them, and both are to be and see whither desire will lead them; then we shall discover perfectly furnished for the work of their respective lives. First, in the very act the just and unjust man to be proceeding along let the unjust be like other distinguished masters of craft; like the same road, following their interest, which all natures deem the skillful pilot or physician, who knows intuitively his own to be their good, and are only diverted into the path of justice powers and keeps within their limits, and who, if he fails at by the force of law. The liberty which we are supposing may any point, is able to recover himself. So let the unjust make be most completely given to them in the form of such a power his unjust attempts in the right way, and lie hidden if he means as is said to have been possessed by Gyges the ancestor of to be great in his injustice (he who is found out is nobody): for Croesus the Lydian. According to the tradition, Gyges was a the highest reach of injustice is: to be deemed just when you 54 are not. Therefore I say that in the perfectly unjust man we Adeimantus, his brother, interposed: Socrates, he said, you do must assume the most perfect injustice; there is to be no de- not suppose that there is nothing more to be urged? duction, but we must allow him, while doing the most unjust Why, what else is there? I answered. acts, to have acquired the greatest reputation for justice. If The strongest point of all has not been even mentioned, he he have taken a false step he must be able to recover himself; replied. he must be one who can speak with effect, if any of his deeds Well, then, according to the proverb, “Let brother help come to light, and who can force his way where force is re- brother” Ð if he fails in any part do you assist him; although quired his courage and strength, and command of money and I must confess that Glaucon has already said quite enough to friends. And at his side let us place the just man in his noble- lay me in the dust, and take from me the power of helping ness and simplicity, wishing, as Aeschylus says, to be and not justice. to seem good. There must be no seeming, for if he seem to be Nonsense, he replied. But let me add something more: just he will be honoured and rewarded, and then we shall not There is another side to Glaucon’s argument about the praise know whether he is just for the sake of justice or for the sake and censure of justice and injustice, which is equally required of honours and rewards; therefore, let him be clothed in justice in order to bring out what I believe to be his meaning. Parents only, and have no other covering; and he must be imagined in and tutors are always telling their sons and their wards that a state of life the opposite of the former. Let him be the best of they are to be just; but why? not for the sake of justice, but for men, and let him be thought the worst; then he will have been the sake of character and reputation; in the hope of obtaining put to the proof; and we shall see whether he will be affected for him who is reputed just some of those offices, marriages, by the fear of infamy and its consequences. And let him con- and the like which Glaucon has enumerated among the ad- tinue thus to the hour of death; being just and seeming to be vantages accruing to the unjust from the reputation of justice. unjust. When both have reached the uttermost extreme, the More, however, is made of appearances by this class of per- one of justice and the other of injustice, let judgment be given sons than by the others; for they throw in the good opinion which of them is the happier of the two. of the gods, and will tell you of a shower of benefits which Heavens! my dear Glaucon, I said, how energetically you the heavens, as they say, rain upon the pious; and this accords polish them up for the decision, first one and then the other, as with the testimony of the noble Hesiod and Homer, the first if they were two statues. of whom says, that the gods make the oaks of the just Ð I do my best, he said. And now that we know what they are like there is no difficulty in tracing out the sort of life which “To bear acorns at their summit, and bees I awaits either of them. This I will proceed to describe; but as the middle; And the sheep the bowed down with you may think the description a little too coarse, I ask you to the weight of fleeces.” suppose, Socrates, that the words which follow are not mine. and many other blessings of a like kind are provided for them. Ð Let me put them into the mouths of the eulogists of injus- And Homer has a very similar strain; for he speaks of one tice: They will tell you that the just man who is thought unjust whose fame is Ð will be scourged, racked, bound Ð will have his eyes burnt out; and, at last, after suffering every kind of evil, he will be “As the fame of some blameless king who, impaled: Then he will understand that he ought to seem only, like a god, maintains justice; to whom the black and not to be, just; the words of Aeschylus may be more truly earth brings forth wheat and barley, whose trees spoken of the unjust than of the just. For the unjust is pursu- are bowed with fruit, and his sheep never fail to ing a reality; he does not live with a view to appearances Ð he bear, and the sea gives him fish.” wants to be really unjust and not to seem only: Still grander are the gifts of heaven which Musaeus and “His mind has a soil deep and fertile, Out of his son vouchsafe to the just; they take them down into the which spring his prudent counsels.” world below, where they have the saints lying on couches at a feast, everlastingly drunk, crowned with garlands; their idea In the first place, he is thought just, and therefore bears rule seems to be that an immortality of drunkenness is the highest in the city; he can marry whom he will, and give in marriage meed of virtue. Some extend their rewards yet further; the to whom he will; also he can trade and deal where he likes, posterity, as they say, of the faithful and just shall survive to and always to his own advantage, because he has no misgiv- the third and fourth generation. This is the style in which they ings about injustice; and at every contest, whether in public praise justice. But about the wicked there is another strain; or private, he gets the better of his antagonists, and gains at they bury them in a slough in Hades, and make them carry their expense, and is rich, and out of his gains he can bene- water in a sieve; also while they are yet living they bring fit his friends, and harm his enemies; moreover, he can of- them to infamy, and inflict upon them the punishments which fer sacrifices, and dedicate gifts to the gods abundantly and Glaucon described as the portion of the just who are reputed magnificently, and can honour the gods or any man whom he to be unjust; nothing else does their invention supply. Such is wants to honour in a far better style than the just, and therefore their manner of praising the one and censuring the other. he is likely to be dearer than they are to the gods. And thus, Once more, Socrates, I will ask you to consider another Socrates, gods and men are said to unite in making the life of way of speaking about justice and injustice, which is not con- the unjust better than the life of the just. fined to the poets, but is found in prose writers. The universal I was going to say something in answer to Glaucon, when voice of mankind is always declaring that justice and virtue 55 are honourable, but grievous and toilsome; and that the plea- the reputation of justice, a heavenly life is promised to me. sures of vice and injustice are easy of attainment, and are only Since then, as philosophers prove, appearance tyrannizes over censured by law and opinion. They say also that honesty is truth and is lord of happiness, to appearance I must devote for the most part less profitable than dishonesty; and they are myself. I will describe around me a picture and shadow of quite ready to call wicked men happy, and to honour them both virtue to be the vestibule and exterior of my house; behind I in public and private when they are rich or in any other way will trail the subtle and crafty fox, as Archilochus, greatest influential, while they despise and overlook those who may of sages, recommends. But I hear some one exclaiming that be weak and poor, even though acknowledging them to be bet- the concealment of wickedness is often difficult; to which I ter than the others. But most extraordinary of all is their mode answer, Nothing great is easy. Nevertheless, the argument in- of speaking about virtue and the gods: they say that the gods dicates this, if we would be happy, to be the path along which apportion calamity and misery to many good men, and good we should proceed. With a view to concealment we will es- and happiness to the wicked. And mendicant prophets go to tablish secret brotherhoods and political clubs. And there are rich men’s doors and persuade them that they have a power professors of rhetoric who teach the art of persuading courts committed to them by the gods of making an atonement for and assemblies; and so, partly by persuasion and partly by a man’s own or his ancestor’s sins by sacrifices or charms, force, I shall make unlawful gains and not be punished. Still with rejoicings and feasts; and they promise to harm an en- I hear a voice saying that the gods cannot be deceived, nei- emy, whether just or unjust, at a small cost; with magic arts ther can they be compelled. But what if there are no gods? and incantations binding heaven, as they say, to execute their or, suppose them to have no care of human things Ð why in will. And the poets are the authorities to whom they appeal, either case should we mind about concealment? And even if now smoothing the path of vice with the words of Hesiod; Ð there are gods, and they do care about us, yet we know of them only from tradition and the genealogies of the poets; and “Vice may be had in abundance without trou- these are the very persons who say that they may be influenced ble; the way is smooth and her dwelling-place is and turned by “sacrifices and soothing entreaties and by offer- near. But before virtue the gods have set toil,” ings.” Let us be consistent then, and believe both or neither. If the poets speak truly, why then we had better be unjust, and and a tedious and uphill road: then citing Homer as a witness offer of the fruits of injustice; for if we are just, although we that the gods may be influenced by men; for he also says: may escape the vengeance of heaven, we shall lose the gains “The gods, too, may he turned from their pur- of injustice; but, if we are unjust, we shall keep the gains, pose; and men pray to them and avert their wrath and by our sinning and praying, and praying and sinning, the by sacrifices and soothing entreaties, and by liba- gods will be propitiated, and we shall not be punished. “But tions and the odour of fat, when they have sinned there is a world below in which either we or our posterity will and transgressed.” suffer for our unjust deeds.” Yes, my friend, will be the re- flection, but there are mysteries and atoning deities, and these And they produce a host of books written by Musaeus and have great power. That is what mighty cities declare; and the Orpheus, who were children of the Moon and the Muses Ð children of the gods, who were their poets and prophets, bear that is what they say Ð according to which they perform their a like testimony. ritual, and persuade not only individuals, but whole cities, that On what principle, then, shall we any longer choose justice expiations and atonements for sin may be made by sacrifices rather than the worst injustice? when, if we only unite the lat- and amusements which fill a vacant hour, and are equally at ter with a deceitful regard to appearances, we shall fare to our the service of the living and the dead; the latter sort they call mind both with gods and men, in life and after death, as the mysteries, and they redeem us from the pains of hell, but if we most numerous and the highest authorities tell us. Knowing neglect them no one knows what awaits us. all this, Socrates, how can a man who has any superiority of He proceeded: And now when the young hear all this said mind or person or rank or wealth, be willing to honour jus- about virtue and vice, and the way in which gods and men tice; or indeed to refrain from laughing when he hears justice regard them, how are their minds likely to be affected, my dear praised? And even if there should be some one who is able Socrates, Ð those of them, I mean, who are quickwitted, and, to disprove the truth of my words, and who is satisfied that like bees on the wing, light on every flower, and from all that justice is best, still he is not angry with the unjust, but is very they hear are prone to draw conclusions as to what manner of ready to forgive them, because he also knows that men are not persons they should be and in what way they should walk if just of their own free will; unless, peradventure, there be some they would make the best of life? Probably the youth will say one whom the divinity within him may have inspired with a to himself in the words of Pindar Ð hatred of injustice, or who has attained knowledge of the truth Ð but no other man. He only blames injustice who, owing to “Can I by justice or by crooked ways of deceit cowardice or age or some weakness, has not the power of be- ascend a loftier tower which may he a fortress to ing unjust. And this is proved by the fact that when he obtains me all my days?” the power, he immediately becomes unjust as far as he can be. For what men say is that, if I am really just and am not also The cause of all this, Socrates, was indicated by us at the thought just, profit there is none, but the pain and loss on the beginning of the argument, when my brother and I told you other hand are unmistakable. But if, though unjust, I acquire how astonished we were to find that of all the professing pane- 56 gyrists of justice Ð beginning with the ancient heroes of whom battle of Megara: Ð “Sons of Ariston,” he sang, “divine off- any memorial has been preserved to us, and ending with the spring of an illustrious hero.” The epithet is very appropriate, men of our own time Ð no one has ever blamed injustice or for there is something truly divine in being able to argue as praised justice except with a view to the glories, honours, and you have done for the superiority of injustice, and remaining benefits which flow from them. No one has ever adequately unconvinced by your own arguments. And I do believe that described either in verse or prose the true essential nature of you are not convinced Ð this I infer from your general char- either of them abiding in the soul, and invisible to any human acter, for had I judged only from your speeches I should have or divine eye; or shown that of all the things of a man’s soul mistrusted you. But now, the greater my confidence in you, which he has within him, justice is the greatest good, and in- the greater is my difficulty in knowing what to say. For I am justice the greatest evil. Had this been the universal strain, in a strait between two; on the one hand I feel that I am un- had you sought to persuade us of this from our youth upwards, equal to the task; and my inability is brought home to me by we should not have been on the watch to keep one another the fact that you were not satisfied with the answer which I from doing wrong, but every one would have been his own made to Thrasymachus, proving, as I thought, the superior- watchman, because afraid, if he did wrong, of harbouring in ity which justice has over injustice. And yet I cannot refuse himself the greatest of evils. I dare say that Thrasymachus and to help, while breath and speech remain to me; I am afraid others would seriously hold the language which I have been that there would be an impiety in being present when justice merely repeating, and words even stronger than these about is evil spoken of and not lifting up a hand in her defence. And justice and injustice, grossly, as I conceive, perverting their therefore I had best give such help as I can. true nature. But I speak in this vehement manner, as I must Glaucon and the rest entreated me by all means not to let frankly confess to you, because I want to hear from you the the question drop, but to proceed in the investigation. They opposite side; and I would ask you to show not only the superi- wanted to arrive at the truth, first, about the nature of justice ority which justice has over injustice, but what effect they have and injustice, and secondly, about their relative advantages. I on the possessor of them which makes the one to be a good told them, what I really thought, that the enquiry would be of and the other an evil to him. And please, as Glaucon requested a serious nature, and would require very good eyes. Seeing of you, to exclude reputations; for unless you take away from then, I said, that we are no great wits, I think that we had each of them his true reputation and add on the false, we shall better adopt a method which I may illustrate thus; suppose say that you do not praise justice, but the appearance of it; that a short-sighted person had been asked by some one to read we shall think that you are only exhorting us to keep injustice small letters from a distance; and it occurred to some one else dark, and that you really agree with Thrasymachus in thinking that they might be found in another place which was larger that justice is another’s good and the interest of the stronger, and in which the letters were larger Ð if they were the same and that injustice is a man’s own profit and interest, though in- and he could read the larger letters first, and then proceed to jurious to the weaker. Now as you have admitted that justice the lesser Ð this would have been thought a rare piece of good is one of that highest class of goods which are desired indeed fortune. for their results, but in a far greater degree for their own sakes Very true, said Adeimantus; but how does the illustration Ð like sight or hearing or knowledge or health, or any other apply to our enquiry? real and natural and not merely conventional good Ð I would I will tell you, I replied; justice, which is the subject of our ask you in your praise of justice to regard one point only: I enquiry, is, as you know, sometimes spoken of as the virtue of mean the essential good and evil which justice and injustice an individual, and sometimes as the virtue of a State. work in the possessors of them. Let others praise justice and True, he replied. censure injustice, magnifying the rewards and honours of the one and abusing the other; that is a manner of arguing which, And is not a State larger than an individual? coming from them, I am ready to tolerate, but from you who It is. have spent your whole life in the consideration of this ques- Then in the larger the quantity of justice is likely to be larger tion, unless I hear the contrary from your own lips, I expect and more easily discernible. I propose therefore that we en- something better. And therefore, I say, not only prove to us quire into the nature of justice and injustice, first as they ap- that justice is better than injustice, but show what they either pear in the State, and secondly in the individual, proceeding of them do to the possessor of them, which makes the one to from the greater to the lesser and comparing them. be a good and the other an evil, whether seen or unseen by That, he said, is an excellent proposal. gods and men. And if we imagine the State in process of creation, we shall see the justice and injustice of the State in process of creation also. 3.2.2. The Rudiments of Social Organization I dare say. When the State is completed there may be a hope that the I had always admired the genius of Glaucon and Adeiman- object of our search will be more easily discovered. tus, but on hearing these words I was quite delighted, and Yes, far more easily. said: Sons of an illustrious father, that was not a bad begin- But ought we to attempt to construct one? I said; for to ning of the Elegiac verses which the admirer of Glaucon made do so, as I am inclined to think, will be a very serious task. in honour of you after you had distinguished yourselves at the Reflect therefore. 57

I have reflected, said Adeimantus, and am anxious that you For business is not disposed to wait until the doer of the should proceed. business is at leisure; but the doer must follow up what he is A State, I said, arises, as I conceive, out of the needs of doing, and make the business his first object. mankind; no one is self-sufficing, but all of us have many He must. wants. Can any other origin of a State be imagined? And if so, we must infer that all things are produced more There can be no other. plentifully and easily and of a better quality when one man Then, as we have many wants, and many persons are does one thing which is natural to him and does it at the right needed to supply them, one takes a helper for one purpose time, and leaves other things. and another for another; and when these partners and helpers Undoubtedly. are gathered together in one habitation the body of inhabitants Then more than four citizens will be required; for the hus- is termed a State. bandman will not make his own plough or mattock, or other True, he said. implements of agriculture, if they are to be good for anything. And they exchange with one another, and one gives, and Neither will the builder make his tools Ð and he too needs another receives, under the idea that the exchange will be for many; and in like manner the weaver and shoemaker. their good. True. Very true. Then carpenters, and smiths, and many other artisans, will Then, I said, let us begin and create in idea a State; and yet be sharers in our little State, which is already beginning to the true creator is necessity, who is the mother of our inven- grow? tion. True. Of course, he replied. Yet even if we add neatherds, shepherds, and other herds- men, in order that our husbandmen may have oxen to plough Now the first and greatest of necessities is food, which is the condition of life and existence. with, and builders as well as husbandmen may have draught cattle, and curriers and weavers fleeces and hides, Ð still our Certainly. State will not be very large. The second is a dwelling, and the third clothing and the like. That is true; yet neither will it be a very small State which True. contains all these. And now let us see how our city will be able to supply this Then, again, there is the situation of the city Ð to find a place great demand: We may suppose that one man is a husband- where nothing need be imported is well-nigh impossible. man, another a builder, some one else a weaver Ð shall we add Impossible. to them a shoemaker, or perhaps some other purveyor to our Then there must be another class of citizens who will bring bodily wants? the required supply from another city? Quite right. There must. The barest notion of a State must include four or five men. But if the trader goes empty-handed, having nothing which Clearly. they require who would supply his need, he will come back And how will they proceed? Will each bring the result empty-handed. of his labours into a common stock? Ð the individual hus- That is certain. bandman, for example, producing for four, and labouring four And therefore what they produce at home must be not only times as long and as much as he need in the provision of food enough for themselves, but such both in quantity and quality with which he supplies others as well as himself; or will he as to accommodate those from whom their wants are supplied. have nothing to do with others and not be at the trouble of Very true. producing for them, but provide for himself alone a fourth of Then more husbandmen and more artisans will be required? the food in a fourth of the time, and in the remaining three- They will. fourths of his time be employed in making a house or a coat Not to mention the importers and exporters, who are called or a pair of shoes, having no partnership with others, but sup- merchants? plying himself all his own wants? Yes. Adeimantus thought that he should aim at producing food Then we shall want merchants? only and not at producing everything. We shall. Probably, I replied, that would be the better way; and when And if merchandise is to be carried over the sea, skillful I hear you say this, I am myself reminded that we are not all sailors will also be needed, and in considerable numbers? alike; there are diversities of natures among us which are Yes, in considerable numbers. adapted to different occupations. Then, again, within the city, how will they exchange their Very true. productions? To secure such an exchange was, as you will And will you have a work better done when the workman remember, one of our principal objects when we formed them has many occupations, or when he has only one? into a society and constituted a State. When he has only one. Clearly they will buy and sell. Further, there can be no doubt that a work is spoilt when Then they will need a market-place, and a money-token for not done at the right time? purposes of exchange. No doubt. Certainly. 58

Suppose now that a husbandman, or an artisan, brings some shall give them figs, and peas, and beans; and they will roast production to market, and he comes at a time when there is no myrtle-berries and acorns at the fire, drinking in moderation. one to exchange with him, Ð is he to leave his calling and sit And with such a diet they may be expected to live in peace idle in the market-place? and health to a good old age, and bequeath a similar life to Not at all; he will find people there who, seeing the want, their children after them. undertake the office of salesmen. In well-ordered States they Yes, Socrates, he said, and if you were providing for a city are commonly those who are the weakest in bodily strength, of pigs, how else would you feed the beasts? and therefore of little use for any other purpose; their duty is But what would you have, Glaucon? I replied. to be in the market, and to give money in exchange for goods Why, he said, you should give them the ordinary conve- to those who desire to sell and to take money from those who niences of life. People who are to be comfortable are accus- desire to buy. tomed to lie on sofas, and dine off tables, and they should This want, then, creates a class of retail-traders in our State. have sauces and sweets in the modern style. Is not ’retailer’ the term which is applied to those who sit in Yes, I said, now I understand: the question which you the market-place engaged in buying and selling, while those would have me consider is, not only how a State, but how who wander from one city to another are called merchants? a luxurious State is created; and possibly there is no harm in Yes, he said. this, for in such a State we shall be more likely to see how jus- And there is another class of servants, who are intellectually tice and injustice originate. In my opinion the true and healthy hardly on the level of companionship; still they have plenty of constitution of the State is the one which I have described. But bodily strength for labour, which accordingly they sell, and if you wish also to see a State at fever heat, I have no objec- are called, if I do not mistake, hirelings, hire being the name tion. For I suspect that many will not be satisfied with the which is given to the price of their labour. simpler way of life. They will be for adding sofas, and tables, True. and other furniture; also dainties, and perfumes, and incense, Then hirelings will help to make up our population? and courtesans, and cakes, all these not of one sort only, but Yes. in every variety; we must go beyond the necessaries of which And now, Adeimantus, is our State matured and perfected? I was at first speaking, such as houses, and clothes, and shoes: I think so. the arts of the painter and the embroiderer will have to be set Where, then, is justice, and where is injustice, and in what in motion, and gold and ivory and all sorts of materials must part of the State did they spring up? be procured. Probably in the dealings of these citizens with one another. True, he said. I cannot imagine that they are more likely to be found any- Then we must enlarge our borders; for the original healthy where else. State is no longer sufficient. Now will the city have to fill and I dare say that you are right in your suggestion, I said; we swell with a multitude of callings which are not required by had better think the matter out, and not shrink from the en- any natural want; such as the whole tribe of hunters and actors, quiry. of whom one large class have to do with forms and colours; another will be the votaries of music Ð poets and their atten- dant train of rhapsodists, players, dancers, contractors; also 3.2.3. The Luxurious State makers of divers kinds of articles, including women’s dresses. And we shall want more servants. Will not tutors be also in re- Let us then consider, first of all, what will be their way of quest, and nurses wet and dry, tirewomen and barbers, as well life, now that we have thus established them. Will they not as confectioners and cooks; and swineherds, too, who were produce corn, and wine, and clothes, and shoes, and build not needed and therefore had no place in the former edition of houses for themselves? And when they are housed, they will our State, but are needed now? They must not be forgotten: work, in summer, commonly, stripped and barefoot, but in and there will be animals of many other kinds, if people eat winter substantially clothed and shod. They will feed on them. barley-meal and flour of wheat, baking and kneading them, Certainly. making noble cakes and loaves; these they will serve up on a And living in this way we shall have much greater need of mat of reeds or on clean leaves, themselves reclining the while physicians than before? upon beds strewn with yew or myrtle. And they and their chil- Much greater. dren will feast, drinking of the wine which they have made, And the country which was enough to support the original wearing garlands on their heads, and hymning the praises of inhabitants will be too small now, and not enough? the gods, in happy converse with one another. And they will Quite true. take care that their families do not exceed their means; having Then a slice of our neighbours’ land will be wanted by us an eye to poverty or war. for pasture and tillage, and they will want a slice of ours, if, But, said Glaucon, interposing, you have not given them a like ourselves, they exceed the limit of necessity, and give relish to their meal. themselves up to the unlimited accumulation of wealth? True, I replied, I had forgotten; of course they must have a That, Socrates, will be inevitable. relish Ð salt, and olives, and cheese, and they will boil roots And so we shall go to war, Glaucon. Shall we not? and herbs such as country people prepare; for a dessert we Most certainly, he replied. 59

Then without determining as yet whether war does good or 3.2.4. The Guardian’s Temperament harm, thus much we may affirm, that now we have discovered war to be derived from causes which are also the causes of Is not the noble youth very like a well-bred dog in respect almost all the evils in States, private as well as public. of guarding and watching? Undoubtedly. What do you mean? I mean that both of them ought to be quick to see, and swift And our State must once more enlarge; and this time the to overtake the enemy when they see him; and strong too if, enlargement will be nothing short of a whole army, which will when they have caught him, they have to fight with him. have to go out and fight with the invaders for all that we have, All these qualities, he replied, will certainly be required by as well as for the things and persons whom we were describing them. above. Well, and your guardian must be brave if he is to fight well? Why? he said; are they not capable of defending them- Certainly. selves? And is he likely to be brave who has no spirit, whether horse No, I said; not if we were right in the principle which was or dog or any other animal? Have you never observed how acknowledged by all of us when we were framing the State: invincible and unconquerable is spirit and how the presence the principle, as you will remember, was that one man cannot of it makes the soul of any creature to be absolutely fearless practice many arts with success. and indomitable? Very true, he said. Ihave. Then now we have a clear notion of the bodily qualities But is not war an art? which are required in the guardian. Certainly. True. And an art requiring as much attention as shoemaking? And also of the mental ones; his soul is to be full of spirit? Quite true. Yes. But are not these spirited natures apt to be savage with one And the shoemaker was not allowed by us to be husband- another, and with everybody else? man, or a weaver, a builder Ð in order that we might have our A difficulty by no means easy to overcome, he replied. shoes well made; but to him and to every other worker was as- Whereas, I said, they ought to be dangerous to their en- signed one work for which he was by nature fitted, and at that emies, and gentle to their friends; if not, they will destroy he was to continue working all his life long and at no other; he themselves without waiting for their enemies to destroy them. was not to let opportunities slip, and then he would become a True, he said. good workman. Now nothing can be more important than that What is to be done then? I said; how shall we find a gentle the work of a soldier should be well done. But is war an art so nature which has also a great spirit, for the one is the contra- easily acquired that a man may be a warrior who is also a hus- diction of the other? bandman, or shoemaker, or other artisan; although no one in True. the world would be a good dice or draught player who merely He will not be a good guardian who is wanting in either of took up the game as a recreation, and had not from his earliest these two qualities; and yet the combination of them appears years devoted himself to this and nothing else? No tools will to be impossible; and hence we must infer that to be a good make a man a skilled workman, or master of defence, nor be guardian is impossible. of any use to him who has not learned how to handle them, I am afraid that what you say is true, he replied. and has never bestowed any attention upon them. How then Here feeling perplexed I began to think over what had pre- will he who takes up a shield or other implement of war be- ceded. Ð My friend, I said, no wonder that we are in a perplex- come a good fighter all in a day, whether with heavy-armed or ity; for we have lost sight of the image which we had before any other kind of troops? us. Yes, he said, the tools which would teach men their own use What do you mean? he said. would be beyond price. I mean to say that there do exist natures gifted with those And the higher the duties of the guardian, I said, the more opposite qualities. time, and skill, and art, and application will be needed by him? And where do you find them? No doubt, he replied. Many animals, I replied, furnish examples of them; our friend the dog is a very good one: you know that well-bred Will he not also require natural aptitude for his calling? dogs are perfectly gentle to their familiars and acquaintances, Certainly. and the reverse to strangers. Then it will be our duty to select, if we can, natures which Yes, I know. are fitted for the task of guarding the city? Then there is nothing impossible or out of the order of na- ture in our finding a guardian who has a similar combination It will. of qualities? And the selection will be no easy matter, I said; but we must Certainly not. be brave and do our best. Would not he who is fitted to be a guardian, besides the We must. spirited nature, need to have the qualities of a philosopher? 60

I do not apprehend your meaning. I do. The trait of which I am speaking, I replied, may be also And literature may be either true or false? seen in the dog, and is remarkable in the animal. Yes. What trait? And the young should be trained in both kinds, and we Why, a dog, whenever he sees a stranger, is angry; when an begin with the false? acquaintance, he welcomes him, although the one has never I do not understand your meaning, he said. done him any harm, nor the other any good. Did this never You know, I said, that we begin by telling children stories strike you as curious? which, though not wholly destitute of truth, are in the main The matter never struck me before; but I quite recognise the fictitious; and these stories are told them when they are not of truth of your remark. an age to learn gymnastics. And surely this instinct of the dog is very charming; Ð your Very true. dog is a true philosopher. That was my meaning when I said that we must teach music Why? before gymnastics. Why, because he distinguishes the face of a friend and of an Quite right, he said. enemy only by the criterion of knowing and not knowing. And You know also that the beginning is the most important must not an animal be a lover of learning who determines what part of any work, especially in the case of a young and ten- he likes and dislikes by the test of knowledge and ignorance? der thing; for that is the time at which the character is being Most assuredly. formed and the desired impression is more readily taken. And is not the love of learning the love of wisdom, which Quite true. is philosophy? And shall we just carelessly allow children to hear any ca- They are the same, he replied. sual tales which may be devised by casual persons, and to And may we not say confidently of man also, that he who receive into their minds ideas for the most part the very oppo- is likely to be gentle to his friends and acquaintances, must site of those which we should wish them to have when they by nature be a lover of wisdom and knowledge? are grown up? That we may safely affirm. We cannot. Then he who is to be a really good and noble guardian of Then the first thing will be to establish a censorship of the the State will require to unite in himself philosophy and spirit writers of fiction, and let the censors receive any tale of fiction and swiftness and strength? which is good, and reject the bad; and we will desire mothers Undoubtedly. and nurses to tell their children the authorised ones only. Let Then we have found the desired natures; and now that we them fashion the mind with such tales, even more fondly than have found them, how are they to be reared and educated? they mould the body with their hands; but most of those which Is not this enquiry which may be expected to throw light on are now in use must be discarded. the greater enquiry which is our final end Ð How do justice Of what tales are you speaking? he said. and injustice grow up in States? for we do not want either to You may find a model of the lesser in the greater, I said; for omit what is to the point or to draw out the argument to an they are necessarily of the same type, and there is the same inconvenient length. spirit in both of them. Adeimantus thought that the enquiry would be of great ser- Very likely, he replied; but I do not as yet know what you vice to us. would term the greater. Then, I said, my dear friend, the task must not be given up, Those, I said, which are narrated by Homer and Hesiod, and even if somewhat long. the rest of the poets, who have ever been the great story-tellers Certainly not. of mankind. But which stories do you mean, he said; and what fault do you find with them? 3.2.5. Primary Education of the Guardians A fault which is most serious, I said; the fault of telling a Censorship of Literature for School Use lie, and, what is more, a bad lie. But when is this fault committed? Come then, and let us pass a leisure hour in story-telling, Whenever an erroneous representation is made of the nature and our story shall be the education of our heroes. of gods and heroes, Ð as when a painter paints a portrait not By all means. having the shadow of a likeness to the original. And what shall be their education? Can we find a better Yes, he said, that sort of thing is certainly very blamable; than the traditional sort? Ð and this has two divisions, gym- but what are the stories which you mean? nastic for the body, and music for the soul. First of all, I said, there was that greatest of all lies, in high True. places, which the poet told about Uranus, and which was a bad Shall we begin education with music, and go on to gymnas- lie too, Ð I mean what Hesiod says that Uranus did, and how tic afterwards? Cronus retaliated on him. The doings of Cronus, and the suf- By all means. ferings which in turn his son inflicted upon him, even if they And when you speak of music, do you include literature or were true, ought certainly not to be lightly told to young and not? thoughtless persons; if possible, they had better be buried in 61 silence. But if there is an absolute necessity for their mention, Certainly not. a chosen few might hear them in a mystery, and they should And that which hurts not does no evil? sacrifice not a common pig, but some huge and unprocurable No. victim; and then the number of the hearers will be very few And can that which does no evil be a cause of evil? indeed. Impossible. Why, yes, said he, those stories are extremely objection- And the good is advantageous? able. Yes. Yes, Adeimantus, they are stories not to be repeated in our And therefore the cause of well-being? State; the young man should not be told that in committing Yes. the worst of crimes he is far from doing anything outrageous; It follows therefore that the good is not the cause of all and that even if he chastises his father when does wrong, in things, but of the good only? whatever manner, he will only be following the example of Assuredly. the first and greatest among the gods. Then God, if he be good, is not the author of all things, as I entirely agree with you, he said; in my opinion those sto- the many assert, but he is the cause of a few things only, and ries are quite unfit to be repeated. not of most things that occur to men. For few are the goods Neither, if we mean our future guardians to regard the habit of human life, and many are the evils, and the good is to be of quarrelling among themselves as of all things the basest, attributed to God alone; of the evils the causes are to be sought should any word be said to them of the wars in heaven, and elsewhere, and not in him. of the plots and fightings of the gods against one another, for That appears to me to be most true, he said. they are not true. No, we shall never mention the battles of Then we must not listen to Homer or to any other poet who the giants, or let them be embroidered on garments; and we is guilty of the folly of saying that two casks shall be silent about the innumerable other quarrels of gods “Lie at the threshold of Zeus, full of lots, one and heroes with their friends and relatives. If they would only of good, the other of evil lots,” believe us we would tell them that quarrelling is unholy, and that never up to this time has there been any quarrel between and that he to whom Zeus gives a mixture of the two citizens; this is what old men and old women should begin by telling children; and when they grow up, the poets also “Sometimes meets with evil fortune, at other should be told to compose for them in a similar spirit. But times with good”; the narrative of Hephaestus binding Here his mother, or how but that he to whom is given the cup of unmingled ill, on another occasion Zeus sent him flying for taking her part when she was being beaten, and all the battles of the gods “Him wild hunger drives o’er the beauteous in Homer Ð these tales must not be admitted into our State, earth.” whether they are supposed to have an allegorical meaning or not. For a young person cannot judge what is allegorical and And again what is literal; anything that he receives into his mind at that “Zeus, who is the dispenser of good and evil age is likely to become indelible and unalterable; and there- to us.” fore it is most important that the tales which the young first hear should be models of virtuous thoughts. And if any one asserts that the violation of oaths and treaties, There you are right, he replied; but if any one asks where which was really the work of Pandarus, was brought about are such models to be found and of what tales are you speak- by Athene and Zeus, or that the strife and contention of the ing Ð how shall we answer him? gods was instigated by Themis and Zeus, he shall not have I said to him, You and I, Adeimantus, at this moment are our approval; neither will we allow our young men to hear the not poets, but founders of a State: now the founders of a State words of Aeschylus, that ought to know the general forms in which poets should cast their tales, and the limits which must be observed by them, “God plants guilt among men when he desires but to make the tales is not their business. utterly to destroy a house.” Very true, he said; but what are these forms of theology And if a poet writes of the sufferings of Niobe Ð the subject which you mean? of the tragedy in which these iambic verses occur Ð or of the Something of this kind, I replied: Ð God is always to be house of Pelops, or of the Trojan war or on any similar theme, represented as he truly is, whatever be the sort of poetry, epic, either we must not permit him to say that these are the works lyric or tragic, in which the representation is given. of God, or if they are of God, he must devise some explanation Right. of them such as we are seeking; he must say that God did what And is he not truly good? and must he not be represented was just and right, and they were the better for being punished; as such? but that those who are punished are miserable, and that God is Certainly. the author of their misery Ð the poet is not to be permitted to And no good thing is hurtful? say; though he may say that the wicked are miserable because No, indeed. they require to be punished, and are benefited by receiving And that which is not hurtful hurts not? punishment from God; but that God being good is the author 62 of evil to any one is to be strenuously denied, and not to be Then it is impossible that God should ever be willing to said or sung or heard in verse or prose by any one whether old change; being, as is supposed, the fairest and best that is con- or young in any well-ordered commonwealth. Such a fiction ceivable, every god remains absolutely and for ever in his own is suicidal, ruinous, impious. form. I agree with you, he replied, and am ready to give my assent That necessarily follows, he said, in my judgment. to the law. Then, I said, my dear friend, let none of the poets tell us Let this then be one of our rules and principles concerning that the gods, to which our poets and reciters will be expected to conform Ð that God is not the author of all things, but of good “The gods, taking the disguise of strangers only. from other lands, walk up and down cities in all That will do, he said. sorts of forms”; And what do you think of a second principle? Shall I ask and let no one slander Proteus and Thetis, neither let any one, you whether God is a magician, and of a nature to appear in- either in tragedy or in any other kind of poetry, introduce Here sidiously now in one shape, and now in another Ð sometimes disguised in the likeness of a priestess asking an alms himself changing and passing into many forms, sometimes de- ceiving us with the semblance of such transformations; or is “For the life-giving daughters of Inachus the he one and the same immutably fixed in his own proper im- river of Argos”; age? I cannot answer you, he said, without more thought. Ð let us have no more lies of that sort. Neither must we have Well, I said; but if we suppose a change in anything, that mothers under the influence of the poets scaring their children change must be affected either by the thing itself, or by some with a bad version of these myths Ð telling how certain gods, other thing? as they say, Most certainly. “Go about by night in the likeness of so many And things which are at their best are also least liable to strangers and in divers forms”; be altered or discomposed; for example, when healthiest and strongest, the human frame is least liable to be affected by but let them take heed lest they make cowards of their chil- meats and drinks, and the plant which is in the fullest vigour dren, and at the same time speak blasphemy against the gods. also suffers least from winds or the heat of the sun or any Heaven forbid, he said. similar causes. But although the gods are themselves unchangeable, still Of course. by witchcraft and deception they may make us think that they And will not the bravest and wisest soul be least confused appear in various forms? or deranged by any external influence? Perhaps, he replied. True. Well, but can you imagine that God will be willing to lie, And the same principle, as I should suppose, applies to all whether in word or deed, or to put forth a phantom of himself? composite things Ð furniture, houses, garments: when good I cannot say, he replied. and well made, they are least altered by time and circum- Do you not know, I said, that the true lie, if such an expres- stances. sion may be allowed, is hated of gods and men? Very true. What do you mean? he said. Then everything which is good, whether made by art or na- I mean that no one is willingly deceived in that which is ture, or both, is least liable to suffer change from without? the truest and highest part of himself, or about the truest and highest matters; there, above all, he is most afraid of a lie True. having possession of him. But surely God and the things of God are in every way per- Still, he said, I do not comprehend you. fect? The reason is, I replied, that you attribute some profound Of course they are. meaning to my words; but I am only saying that deception, Then he can hardly be compelled by external influence to or being deceived or uninformed about the highest realities in take many shapes? the highest part of themselves, which is the soul, and in that He cannot. part of them to have and to hold the lie, is what mankind least But may he not change and transform himself? like; Ð that, I say, is what they utterly detest. Clearly, he said, that must be the case if he is changed at There is nothing more hateful to them. all. And, as I was just now remarking, this ignorance in the And will he then change himself for the better and fairer, or soul of him who is deceived may be called the true lie; for the for the worse and more unsightly? lie in words is only a kind of imitation and shadowy image If he change at all he can only change for the worse, for we of a previous affection of the soul, not pure unadulterated cannot suppose him to be deficient either in virtue or beauty. falsehood. Am I not right? Very true, Adeimantus; but then, would any one, whether Perfectly right. God or man, desire to make himself worse? The true lie is hated not only by the gods, but also by men? Impossible. Yes. 63

Whereas the lie in words is in certain cases useful and not from their youth upwards, if we mean them to honour the gods hateful; in dealing with enemies Ð that would be an instance; and their parents, and to value friendship with one another. or again, when those whom we call our friends in a fit of mad- Yes; and I think that our principles are right, he said. ness or illusion are going to do some harm, then it is useful But if they are to be courageous, must they not learn other and is a sort of medicine or preventive; also in the tales of lessons besides these, and lessons of such a kind as will take mythology, of which we were just now speaking Ð because away the fear of death? Can any man be courageous who has we do not know the truth about ancient times, we make false- the fear of death in him? hood as much like truth as we can, and so turn it to account. Certainly not, he said. Very true, he said. And can he be fearless of death, or will he choose death in But can any of these reasons apply to God? Can we suppose battle rather than defeat and slavery, who believes the world that he is ignorant of antiquity, and therefore has recourse to below to be real and terrible? invention? Impossible. That would be ridiculous, he said. Then we must assume a control over the narrators of this Then the lying poet has no place in our idea of God? class of tales as well as over the others, and beg them not I should say not. simply to revile, but rather to commend the world below, inti- Or perhaps he may tell a lie because he is afraid of enemies? mating to them that their descriptions are untrue, and will do That is inconceivable. harm to our future warriors. But he may have friends who are senseless or mad? That will be our duty, he said. But no mad or senseless person can be a friend of God. Then, I said, we shall have to obliterate many obnoxious Then no motive can be imagined why God should lie? passages, beginning with the verses, None whatever. Then the superhuman and divine is absolutely incapable of “I would rather be a serf on the land of a poor falsehood? and portionless man than rule over all the dead Yes. who have come to nought.” Then is God perfectly simple and true both in word and deed; he changes not; he deceives not, either by sign or word, We must also expunge the verse, which tells us how Pluto by dream or waking vision. feared, Your thoughts, he said, are the reflection of my own. “Lest the mansions grim and squalid which You agree with me then, I said, that this is the second the gods abhor should be seen both of mortals and type or form in which we should write and speak about di- immortals.” vine things. The gods are not magicians who transform them- selves, neither do they deceive mankind in any way. And again: Ð I grant that. Then, although we are admirers of Homer, we do not ad- “O heavens! verily in the house of Hades mire the lying dream which Zeus sends to Agamemnon; nei- there is soul and ghostly form but no mind at all!” ther will we praise the verses of Aeschylus in which Thetis says that Apollo at her nuptials Again of Tiresias: Ð “Was celebrating in song her fair progeny “To him even after death did Persephone whose days were to be long, and to know no grant mind, that he alone should be wise; but the sickness. And when he had spoken of my lot as other souls are flitting shades.” in all things blessed of heaven he raised a note of triumph and cheered my soul. And I thought Again: Ð that the word of Phoebus being divine and full of “The soul flying from the limbs had gone to prophecy, would not fail. And now he himself Hades, lamenting her fate, leaving manhood and who uttered the strain, he who was present at the youth.” banquet, and who said this Ð he it is who has slain my son.” Again: Ð

These are the kind of sentiments about the gods which will “And the soul, with shrilling cry, passed like arouse our anger; and he who utters them shall be refused a smoke beneath the earth.” chorus; neither shall we allow teachers to make use of them in the instruction of the young, meaning, as we do, that our And, Ð guardians, as far as men can be, should be true worshippers of the gods and like them. “As bats in hollow of mystic cavern, when- I entirely agree, he said, in these principles, and promise to ever any of them has dropped out of the string make them my laws. and falls from the rock, fly shrilling and cling to Such then, I said, are our principles of theology Ð some one another, so did they with shrilling cry hold tales are to be told, and others are not to be told to our disciples together as they moved.” 64

And we must beg Homer and the other poets not to be angry Still more earnestly will we beg of him at all events not to if we strike out these and similar passages, not because they introduce the gods lamenting and saying, are unpoetical, or unattractive to the popular ear, but because the greater the poetical charm of them, the less are they meet “Alas! my misery! Alas! that I bore the har- for the ears of boys and men who are meant to be free, and vest to my sorrow.” who should fear slavery more than death. But if he must introduce the gods, at any rate let him not dare Undoubtedly. so completely to misrepresent the greatest of the gods, as to Also we shall have to reject all the terrible and appalling make him say Ð names which describe the world below Ð Cocytus and Styx, ghosts under the earth, and sapless shades, and any similar “O heavens! with my eyes verily I behold a words of which the very mention causes a shudder to pass dear friend of mine chased round and round the through the inmost soul of him who hears them. I do not say city, and my heart is sorrowful.” that these horrible stories may not have a use of some kind; but there is a danger that the nerves of our guardians may be Or again: Ð rendered too excitable and effeminate by them. “Woe is me that I am fated to have Sarpedon, There is a real danger, he said. dearest of men to me, subdued at the hands of Then we must have no more of them. Patroclus the son of Menoetius.” True. Another and a nobler strain must be composed and sung by For if, my sweet Adeimantus, our youth seriously listen to us. such unworthy representations of the gods, instead of laugh- Clearly. ing at them as they ought, hardly will any of them deem that And shall we proceed to get rid of the weepings and wail- he himself, being but a man, can be dishonoured by similar ac- ings of famous men? tions; neither will he rebuke any inclination which may arise They will go with the rest. in his mind to say and do the like. And instead of having any But shall we be right in getting rid of them? Reflect: our shame or self-control, he will be always whining and lament- principle is that the good man will not consider death terrible ing on slight occasions. to any other good man who is his comrade. Yes, he said, that is most true. Yes; that is our principle. Yes, I replied; but that surely is what ought not to be, as And therefore he will not sorrow for his departed friend as the argument has just proved to us; and by that proof we must though he had suffered anything terrible? abide until it is disproved by a better. He will not. It ought not to be. Such a one, as we further maintain, is sufficient for himself Neither ought our guardians to be given to laughter. For a fit and his own happiness, and therefore is least in need of other of laughter which has been indulged to excess almost always men. produces a violent reaction. True, he said. So I believe. And for this reason the loss of a son or brother, or the de- Then persons of worth, even if only mortal men, must not privation of fortune, is to him of all men least terrible. be represented as overcome by laughter, and still less must Assuredly. such a representation of the gods be allowed. And therefore he will be least likely to lament, and will bear Still less of the gods, as you say, he replied. with the greatest equanimity any misfortune of this sort which Then we shall not suffer such an expression to be used may befall him. about the gods as that of Homer when he describes how Yes, he will feel such a misfortune far less than another. Then we shall be right in getting rid of the lamentations “Inextinguishable laughter arose among the of famous men, and making them over to women (and not blessed gods, when they saw Hephaestus bustling even to women who are good for anything), or to men of a about the mansion.” baser sort, that those who are being educated by us to be the On your views, we must not admit them. defenders of their country may scorn to do the like. That will be very right. On my views, if you like to father them on me; that we must not admit them is certain. Then we will once more entreat Homer and the other poets not to depict Achilles, who is the son of a goddess, first lying Again, truth should be highly valued; if, as we were saying, a lie is useless to the gods, and useful only as a medicine to on his side, then on his back, and then on his face; then starting up and sailing in a frenzy along the shores of the barren sea; men, then the use of such medicines should be restricted to physicians; private individuals have no business with them. now taking the sooty ashes in both his hands and pouring them over his head, or weeping and wailing in the various modes Clearly not, he said. Then if any one at all is to have the privilege of lying, the which Homer has delineated. Nor should he describe Priam the kinsman of the gods as praying and beseeching, rulers of the State should be the persons; and they, in their dealings either with enemies or with their own citizens, may “Rolling in the dirt, calling each man loudly be allowed to lie for the public good. But nobody else should by his name.” meddle with anything of the kind; and although the rulers 65 have this privilege, for a private man to lie to them in return What would you say again to the tale of Zeus, who, while is to be deemed a more heinous fault than for the patient or other gods and men were asleep and he the only person awake, the pupil of a gymnasium not to speak the truth about his own lay devising plans, but forgot them all in a moment through his bodily illnesses to the physician or to the trainer, or for a sailor lust, and was so completely overcome at the sight of Here that not to tell the captain what is happening about the ship and the he would not even go into the hut, but wanted to lie with her rest of the crew, and how things are going with himself or his on the ground, declaring that he had never been in such a state fellow sailors. of rapture before, even when they first met one another Most true, he said. If, then, the ruler catches anybody beside himself lying in “Without the knowledge of their parents”; the State, or that other tale of how Hephaestus, because of similar goings “Any of the craftsmen, whether he priest or on, cast a chain around Ares and Aphrodite? physician or carpenter,” Indeed, he said, I am strongly of opinion that they ought not to hear that sort of thing. he will punish him for introducing a practice which is equally But any deeds of endurance which are done or told by fa- subversive and destructive of ship or State. mous men, these they ought to see and hear; as, for example, Most certainly, he said, if our idea of the State is ever car- what is said in the verses, ried out. In the next place our youth must be temperate? “He smote his breast, and thus reproached his Certainly. heart, Endure, my heart; far worse hast thou en- Are not the chief elements of temperance, speaking gen- dured!” erally, obedience to commanders and self-control in sensual pleasures? Certainly, he said. True. In the next place, we must not let them be receivers of gifts Then we shall approve such language as that of Diomede in or lovers of money. Homer, Certainly not. Neither must we sing to them of “Friend, sit still and obey my word,” “Gifts persuading gods, and persuading rev- and the verses which follow, erend kings.” “The Greeks marched breathing prowess, ... Neither is Phoenix, the tutor of Achilles, to be approved or in silent awe of their leaders,” deemed to have given his pupil good counsel when he told him and other sentiments of the same kind. that he should take the gifts of the Greeks and assist them; but We shall. that without a gift he should not lay aside his anger. Neither What of this line, will we believe or acknowledge Achilles himself to have been such a lover of money that he took Agamemnon’s or that when “O heavy with wine, who hast the eyes of a he had received payment he restored the dead body of Hector, dog and the heart of a stag,” but that without payment he was unwilling to do so. Undoubtedly, he said, these are not sentiments which can and of the words which follow? Would you say that these, or be approved. any similar impertinences which private individuals are sup- Loving Homer as I do, I hardly like to say that in attributing posed to address to their rulers, whether in verse or prose, are these feelings to Achilles, or in believing that they are truly to well or ill spoken? him, he is guilty of downright impiety. As little can I believe They are ill spoken. the narrative of his insolence to Apollo, where he says, They may very possibly afford some amusement, but they do not conduce to temperance. And therefore they are likely to “Thou hast wronged me, O far-darter, most do harm to our young men Ð you would agree with me there? abominable of deities. Verily I would be even Yes. with thee, if I had only the power”; And then, again, to make the wisest of men say that nothing in his opinion is more glorious than or his insubordination to the river-god, on whose divinity he is ready to lay hands; or his offering to the dead Patroclus of “When the tables are full of bread and meat, his own hair, which had been previously dedicated to the other and the cup-bearer carries round wine which he river-god Spercheius, and that he actually performed this vow; draws from the bowl and pours into the cups,” or that he dragged Hector round the tomb of Patroclus, and is it fit or conducive to temperance for a young man to hear slaughtered the captives at the pyre; of all this I cannot believe such words? Or the verse that he was guilty, any more than I can allow our citizens to believe that he, the wise Cheiron’s pupil, the son of a goddess “The saddest of fates is to die and meet des- and of Peleus who was the gentlest of men and third in de- tiny from hunger?” scent from Zeus, was so disordered in his wits as to be at one 66 time the slave of two seemingly inconsistent passions, mean- That such things are or are not to be said about men is a ness, not untainted by avarice, combined with overweening question which we cannot determine until we have discovered contempt of gods and men. what justice is, and how naturally advantageous to the posses- You are quite right, he replied. sor, whether he seems to be just or not. And let us equally refuse to believe, or allow to be repeated, Most true, he said. the tale of Theseus son of Poseidon, or of Peirithous son of Zeus, going forth as they did to perpetrate a horrid rape; or of The Influence of Dramatic Recitation any other hero or son of a god daring to do such impious and dreadful things as they falsely ascribe to them in our day: and Enough of the subjects of poetry: let us now speak of the let us further compel the poets to declare either that these acts style; and when this has been considered, both matter and were not done by them, or that they were not the sons of gods; manner will have been completely treated. Ð both in the same breath they shall not be permitted to affirm. I do not understand what you mean, said Adeimantus. We will not have them trying to persuade our youth that the Then I must make you understand; and perhaps I may be gods are the authors of evil, and that heroes are no better than more intelligible if I put the matter in this way. You are men Ð sentiments which, as we were saying, are neither pious aware, I suppose, that all mythology and poetry is a narration nor true, for we have already proved that evil cannot come of events, either past, present, or to come? from the gods. Certainly, he replied. Assuredly not. And narration may be either simple narration, or imitation, And further they are likely to have a bad effect on those who or a union of the two? hear them; for everybody will begin to excuse his own vices That again, he said, I do not quite understand. when he is convinced that similar wickednesses are always I fear that I must be a ridiculous teacher when I have so being perpetrated by Ð much difficulty in making myself apprehended. Like a bad speaker, therefore, I will not take the whole of the subject, “The kindred of the gods, the relatives of but will break a piece off in illustration of my meaning. You Zeus, whose ancestral altar, the altar of Zeus, is know the first lines of the Iliad, in which the poet says that aloft in air on the peak of Ida,” Chryses prayed Agamemnon to release his daughter, and that Agamemnon flew into a passion with him; whereupon Chry- and who have ses, failing of his object, invoked the anger of the God against the Achaeans. Now as far as these lines, “the blood of deities yet flowing in their veins.” “And he prayed all the Greeks, but especially the two sons of Atreus, the chiefs of the people,” And therefore let us put an end to such tales, lest they engen- der laxity of morals among the young. the poet is speaking in his own person; he never leads us to By all means, he replied. suppose that he is any one else. But in what follows he But now that we are determining what classes of subjects takes the person of Chryses, and then he does all that he can are or are not to be spoken of, let us see whether any have to make us believe that the speaker is not Homer, but the aged been omitted by us. The manner in which gods and demigods priest himself. And in this double form he has cast the entire and heroes and the world below should be treated has been narrative of the events which occurred at Troy and in Ithaca already laid down. and throughout the Odyssey. Very true. Yes. And what shall we say about men? That is clearly the re- And a narrative it remains both in the speeches which the maining portion of our subject. poet recites from time to time and in the intermediate pas- Clearly so. sages? But we are not in a condition to answer this question at Quite true. present, my friend. But when the poet speaks in the person of another, may we Why not? not say that he assimilates his style to that of the person who, Because, if I am not mistaken, we shall have to say that as he informs you, is going to speak? about men poets and story-tellers are guilty of making the Certainly. gravest misstatements when they tell us that wicked men are And this assimilation of himself to another, either by the often happy, and the good miserable; and that injustice is prof- use of voice or gesture, is the imitation of the person whose itable when undetected, but that justice is a man’s own loss character he assumes? and another’s gain Ð these things we shall forbid them to utter, Of course. and command them to sing and say the opposite. Then in this case the narrative of the poet may be said to To be sure we shall, he replied. proceed by way of imitation? But if you admit that I am right in this, then I shall maintain Very true. that you have implied the principle for which we have been all Or, if the poet everywhere appears and never conceals him- along contending. self, then again the imitation is dropped, and his poetry be- I grant the truth of your inference. comes simple narration. However, in order that I may make 67 my meaning quite clear, and that you may no more say, “I the person of Chryses, he had continued in his own person, don’t understand,” I will show how the change might be ef- the words would have been, not imitation, but simple narra- fected. If Homer had said, “The priest came, having his tion. The passage would have run as follows (I am no poet, daughter’s ransom in his hands, supplicating the Achaeans, and therefore I drop the meter), and above all the kings”; and then if, instead of speaking in

“The priest came and prayed the gods on behalf of the Greeks that they might capture Troy and return safely home, but begged that they would give him back his daughter, and take the ransom which he brought, and respect the God. Thus he spoke, and the other Greeks revered the priest and assented. But Agamemnon was wroth, and bade him depart and not come again, lest the staff and chaplets of the God should be of no avail to him Ð the daughter of Chryses should not be released, he said Ð she should grow old with him in Argos. And then he told him to go away and not to provoke him, if he intended to get home unscathed. And the old man went away in fear and silence, and, when he had left the camp, he called upon Apollo by his many names, reminding him of everything which he had done pleasing to him, whether in building his temples, or in offering sacrifice, and praying that his good deeds might be returned to him, and that the Achaeans might expiate his tears by the arrows of the god,”

and so on. In this way the whole becomes simple narrative. Then the same person will hardly be able to play a serious I understand, he said. part in life, and at the same time to be an imitator and imitate Or you may suppose the opposite case Ð that the intermedi- many other parts as well; for even when two species of im- ate passages are omitted, and the dialogue only left. itation are nearly allied, the same persons cannot succeed in That also, he said, I understand; you mean, for example, as both, as, for example, the writers of tragedy and comedy Ð did in tragedy. you not just now call them imitations? You have conceived my meaning perfectly; and if I mistake Yes, I did; and you are right in thinking that the same per- not, what you failed to apprehend before is now made clear sons cannot succeed in both. to you, that poetry and mythology are, in some cases, wholly Any more than they can be rhapsodists and actors at once? imitative Ð instances of this are supplied by tragedy and com- True. edy; there is likewise the opposite style, in which the my poet Neither are comic and tragic actors the same; yet all these is the only speaker Ð of this the dithyramb affords the best ex- things are but imitations. ample; and the combination of both is found in epic, and in They are so. several other styles of poetry. Do I take you with me? And human nature, Adeimantus, appears to have been Yes, he said; I see now what you meant. coined into yet smaller pieces, and to be as incapable of imi- I will ask you to remember also what I began by saying, tating many things well, as of performing well the actions of that we had done with the subject and might proceed to the which the imitations are copies. style. Quite true, he replied. Yes, I remember. If then we adhere to our original notion and bear in mind In saying this, I intended to imply that we must come to an that our guardians, setting aside every other business, are to understanding about the mimetic art, Ð whether the poets, in dedicate themselves wholly to the maintenance of freedom in narrating their stories, are to be allowed by us to imitate, and the State, making this their craft, and engaging in no work if so, whether in whole or in part, and if the latter, in what which does not bear on this end, they ought not to practise or parts; or should all imitation be prohibited? imitate anything else; if they imitate at all, they should imitate You mean, I suspect, to ask whether tragedy and comedy from youth upward only those characters which are suitable to shall be admitted into our State? their profession Ð the courageous, temperate, holy, free, and Yes, I said; but there may be more than this in question: I the like; but they should not depict or be skillful at imitating really do not know as yet, but whither the argument may blow, any kind of illiberality or baseness, lest from imitation they thither we go. should come to be what they imitate. Did you never observe And go we will, he said. how imitations, beginning in early youth and continuing far Then, Adeimantus, let me ask you whether our guardians into life, at length grow into habits and become a second na- ought to be imitators; or rather, has not this question been ture, affecting body, voice, and mind? decided by the rule already laid down that one man can only Yes, certainly, he said. do one thing well, and not many; and that if he attempt many, Then, I said, we will not allow those for whom we profess he will altogether fail of gaining much reputation in any? a care and of whom we say that they ought to be good men, to Certainly. imitate a woman, whether young or old, quarrelling with her And this is equally true of imitation; no one man can imitate husband, or striving and vaunting against the gods in conceit many things as well as he would imitate a single one? of her happiness, or when she is in affliction, or sorrow, or He cannot. weeping; and certainly not one who is in sickness, love, or 68 labour. bark like a dog, bleat like a sheep, or crow like a cock; his Very right, he said. entire art will consist in imitation of voice and gesture, and Neither must they represent slaves, male or female, per- there will be very little narration. forming the offices of slaves? That, he said, will be his mode of speaking. They must not. These, then, are the two kinds of style? And surely not bad men, whether cowards or any others, Yes. who do the reverse of what we have just been prescribing, And you would agree with me in saying that one of them who scold or mock or revile one another in drink or out of is simple and has but slight changes; and if the harmony and drink, or who in any other manner sin against themselves and rhythm are also chosen for their simplicity, the result is that their neighbours in word or deed, as the manner of such is. the speaker, if he speaks correctly, is always pretty much the Neither should they be trained to imitate the action or speech same in style, and he will keep within the limits of a single of men or women who are mad or bad; for madness, like vice, harmony (for the changes are not great), and in like manner is to be known but not to be practised or imitated. he will make use of nearly the same rhythm? Very true, he replied. That is quite true, he said. Neither may they imitate smiths or other artificers, or oars- Whereas the other requires all sorts of harmonies and all men, or boatswains, or the like? sorts of rhythms, if the music and the style are to correspond, How can they, he said, when they are not allowed to apply because the style has all sorts of changes. their minds to the callings of any of these? That is also perfectly true, he replied. Nor may they imitate the neighing of horses, the bellowing And do not the two styles, or the mixture of the two, com- of bulls, the murmur of rivers and roll of the ocean, thunder, prehend all poetry, and every form of expression in words? and all that sort of thing? No one can say anything except in one or other of them or in Nay, he said, if madness be forbidden, neither may they both together. copy the behaviour of madmen. They include all, he said. You mean, I said, if I understand you aright, that there is And shall we receive into our State all the three styles, or one sort of narrative style which may be employed by a truly one only of the two unmixed styles? or would you include the good man when he has anything to say, and that another sort mixed? will be used by a man of an opposite character and education. I should prefer only to admit the pure imitator of virtue. And which are these two sorts? he asked. Yes, I said, Adeimantus; but the mixed style is also very Suppose, I answered, that a just and good man in the course charming: and indeed the pantomimic, which is the opposite of a narration comes on some saying or action of another good of the one chosen by you, is the most popular style with chil- man, Ð I should imagine that he will like to personate him, and dren and their attendants, and with the world in general. will not be ashamed of this sort of imitation: he will be most I do not deny it. ready to play the part of the good man when he is acting But I suppose you would argue that such a style is unsuit- firmly and wisely; in a less degree when he is overtaken by able to our State, in which human nature is not twofold or illness or love or drink, or has met with any other disaster. manifold, for one man plays one part only? But when he comes to a character which is unworthy of him, Yes; quite unsuitable. he will not make a study of that; he will disdain such a person, And this is the reason why in our State, and in our State and will assume his likeness, if at all, for a moment only when only, we shall find a shoemaker to be a shoemaker and not a he is performing some good action; at other times he will be pilot also, and a husbandman to be a husbandman and not a ashamed to play a part which he has never practised, nor will dicast also, and a soldier a soldier and not a trader also, and he like to fashion and frame himself after the baser models; the same throughout? he feels the employment of such an art, unless in jest, to be True, he said. beneath him, and his mind revolts at it. And therefore when any one of these pantomimic gentle- So I should expect, he replied. men, who are so clever that they can imitate anything, comes Then he will adopt a mode of narration such as we have to us, and makes a proposal to exhibit himself and his po- illustrated out of Homer, that is to say, his style will be both etry, we will fall down and worship him as a sweet and holy imitative and narrative; but there will be very little of the for- and wonderful being; but we must also inform him that in our mer, and a great deal of the latter. Do you agree? State such as he are not permitted to exist; the law will not Certainly, he said; that is the model which such a speaker allow them. And so when we have anointed him with myrrh, must necessarily take. and set a garland of wool upon his head, we shall send him But there is another sort of character who will narrate any- away to another city. For we mean to employ for our souls’ thing, and, the worse lie is, the more unscrupulous he will be; health the rougher and severer poet or story-teller, who will nothing will be too bad for him: and he will be ready to imitate imitate the style of the virtuous only, and will follow those anything, not as a joke, but in right good earnest, and before models which we prescribed at first when we began the edu- a large company. As I was just now saying, he will attempt cation of our soldiers. to represent the roll of thunder, the noise of wind and hail, or We certainly will, he said, if we have the power. the creaking of wheels, and pulleys, and the various sounds Then now, my friend, I said, that part of music or literary of flutes, pipes, trumpets, and all sorts of instruments: he will education which relates to the story or myth may be consid- 69 ered to be finished; for the matter and manner have both been the strain of necessity and the strain of freedom, the strain of discussed. the unfortunate and the strain of the fortunate, the strain of I think so too, he said. courage, and the strain of temperance; these, I say, leave. And these, he replied, are the Dorian and Phrygian har- Musical Accompaniment and Meter monies of which I was just now speaking. Then, I said, if these and these only are to be used in our Next in order will follow melody and song. songs and melodies, we shall not want multiplicity of notes or That is obvious. a panharmonic scale? Every one can see already what we ought to say about them, I suppose not. if we are to be consistent with ourselves. I fear, said Glaucon, laughing, that the words “every one” Then we shall not maintain the artificers of lyres with three hardly includes me, for I cannot at the moment say what they corners and complex scales, or the makers of any other many- should be; though I may guess. stringed curiously-harmonised instruments? At any rate you can tell that a song or ode has three parts Ð Certainly not. the words, the melody, and the rhythm; that degree of knowl- But what do you say to flute-makers and flute-players? edge I may presuppose? Would you admit them into our State when you reflect that Yes, he said; so much as that you may. in this composite use of harmony the flute is worse than all And as for the words, there will surely be no difference the stringed instruments put together; even the panharmonic between words which are and which are not set to music; both music is only an imitation of the flute? will conform to the same laws, and these have been already Clearly not. determined by us? There remain then only the lyre and the harp for use in the Yes. city, and the shepherds may have a pipe in the country. And the melody and rhythm will depend upon the words? That is surely the conclusion to be drawn from the argu- Certainly. ment. We were saying, when we spoke of the subject-matter, that The preferring of Apollo and his instruments to Marsyas we had no need of lamentations and strains of sorrow? and his instruments is not at all strange, I said. True. Not at all, he replied. And which are the harmonies expressive of sorrow? You And so, by the dog of Egypt, we have been unconsciously are musical, and can tell me. purging the State, which not long ago we termed luxurious. The harmonies which you mean are the mixed or tenor Ly- And we have done wisely, he replied. dian, and the full-toned or bass Lydian, and such like. Then let us now finish the purgation, I said. Next in order These then, I said, must be banished; even to women who to harmonies, rhythms will naturally follow, and they should have a character to maintain they are of no use, and much less be subject to the same rules, for we ought not to seek out com- to men. plex systems of meter, or meters of every kind, but rather to Certainly. discover what rhythms are the expressions of a courageous In the next place, drunkenness and softness and indolence and harmonious life; and when we have found them, we shall are utterly unbecoming the character of our guardians. adapt the foot and the melody to words having a like spirit, not Utterly unbecoming. the words to the foot and melody. To say what these rhythms And which are the soft or drinking harmonies? are will be your duty Ð you must teach me them, as you have The Ionian, he replied, and the Lydian; they are termed already taught me the harmonies. “relaxed.” But, indeed, he replied, I cannot tell you. I only know that Well, and are these of any military use? there are some three principles of rhythm out of which metri- Quite the reverse, he replied; and if so the Dorian and the cal systems are framed, just as in sounds there are four notes Phrygian are the only ones which you have left. out of which all the harmonies are composed; that is an obser- I answered: Of the harmonies I know nothing, but I want to vation which I have made. But of what sort of lives they are have one warlike, to sound the note or accent which a brave severally the imitations I am unable to say. man utters in the hour of danger and stern resolve, or when his Then, I said, we must take Damon into our counsels; and cause is failing, and he is going to wounds or death or is over- he will tell us what rhythms are expressive of meanness, or taken by some other evil, and at every such crisis meets the insolence, or fury, or other unworthiness, and what are to be blows of fortune with firm step and a determination to endure; reserved for the expression of opposite feelings. And I think and another to be used by him in times of peace and freedom that I have an indistinct recollection of his mentioning a com- of action, when there is no pressure of necessity, and he is plex Cretic rhythm; also a dactylic or heroic, and he arranged seeking to persuade God by prayer, or man by instruction and them in some manner which I do not quite understand, mak- admonition, or on the other hand, when he is expressing his ing the rhythms equal in the rise and fall of the foot, long and willingness to yield to persuasion or entreaty or admonition, short alternating; and, unless I am mistaken, he spoke of an and which represents him when by prudent conduct he has iambic as well as of a trochaic rhythm, and assigned to them attained his end, not carried away by his success, but acting short and long quantities. Also in some cases he appeared to moderately and wisely under the circumstances, and acqui- praise or censure the movement of the foot quite as much as escing in the event. These two harmonies I ask you to leave; the rhythm; or perhaps a combination of the two; for I am not 70 certain what he meant. These matters, however, as I was say- There can be no nobler training than that, he replied. ing, had better be referred to Damon himself, for the analysis And therefore, I said, Glaucon, musical training is a more of the subject would be difficult, you know? potent instrument than any other, because rhythm and har- Rather so, I should say. mony find their way into the inward places of the soul, on which they mightily fasten, imparting grace, and making the The Aim of Education in Poetry and Music soul of him who is rightly educated graceful, or of him who is ill-educated ungraceful; and also because he who has received But there is no difficulty in seeing that grace or the absence this true education of the inner being will most shrewdly per- of grace is an effect of good or bad rhythm. ceive omissions or faults in art and nature, and with a true None at all. taste, while he praises and rejoices over and receives into his And also that good and bad rhythm naturally assimilate to a soul the good, and becomes noble and good, he will justly good and bad style; and that harmony and discord in like man- blame and hate the bad, now in the days of his youth, even ner follow style; for our principle is that rhythm and harmony before he is able to know the reason why; and when reason are regulated by the words, and not the words by them. comes he will recognise and salute the friend with whom his Just so, he said, they should follow the words. education has made him long familiar. And will not the words and the character of the style depend Yes, he said, I quite agree with you in thinking that our on the temper of the soul? youth should be trained in music and on the grounds which Yes. you mention. And everything else on the style? Just as in learning to read, I said, we were satisfied when Yes. we knew the letters of the alphabet, which are very few, in Then beauty of style and harmony and grace and good all their recurring sizes and combinations; not slighting them rhythm depend on simplicity, Ð I mean the true simplicity of as unimportant whether they occupy a space large or small, a rightly and nobly ordered mind and character, not that other but everywhere eager to make them out; and not thinking our- simplicity which is only an euphemism for folly? selves perfect in the art of reading until we recognise them Very true, he replied. wherever they are found: And if our youth are to do their work in life, must they not True Ð make these graces and harmonies their perpetual aim? They must. Or, as we recognise the reflection of letters in the water, or And surely the art of the painter and every other creative in a mirror, only when we know the letters themselves; the and constructive art are full of them, Ð weaving, embroidery, same art and study giving us the knowledge of both: architecture, and every kind of manufacture; also nature, an- Exactly Ð imal and vegetable, Ð in all of them there is grace or the ab- Even so, as I maintain, neither we nor our guardians, whom sence of grace. And ugliness and discord and inharmonious we have to educate, can ever become musical until we and motion are nearly allied to ill words and ill nature, as grace they know the essential forms, in all their combinations, and and harmony are the twin sisters of goodness and virtue and can recognise them and their images wherever they are found, bear their likeness. not slighting them either in small things or great, but believing That is quite true, he said. them all to be within the sphere of one art and study. But shall our superintendence go no further, and are the po- Most assuredly. ets only to be required by us to express the image of the good And when a beautiful soul harmonizes with a beautiful in their works, on pain, if they do anything else, of expul- form, and the two are cast in one mould, that will be the fairest sion from our State? Or is the same control to be extended to of sights to him who has an eye to see it? other artists, and are they also to be prohibited from exhibit- The fairest indeed. ing the opposite forms of vice and intemperance and mean- And the fairest is also the loveliest? ness and indecency in sculpture and building and the other That may be assumed. creative arts; and is he who cannot conform to this rule of And the man who has the spirit of harmony will be most in ours to be prevented from practising his art in our State, lest love with the loveliest; but he will not love him who is of an the taste of our citizens be corrupted by him? We would not inharmonious soul? have our guardians grow up amid images of moral deformity, That is true, he replied, if the deficiency be in his soul; but if as in some noxious pasture, and there browse and feed upon there be any merely bodily defect in another he will be patient many a baneful herb and flower day by day, little by little, un- of it, and will love all the same. til they silently gather a festering mass of corruption in their I perceive, I said, that you have or have had experiences of own soul. Let our artists rather be those who are gifted to dis- this sort, and I agree. But let me ask you another question: cern the true nature of the beautiful and graceful; then will our Has excess of pleasure any affinity to temperance? youth dwell in a land of health, amid fair sights and sounds, How can that be? he replied; pleasure deprives a man of the and receive the good in everything; and beauty, the effluence use of his faculties quite as much as pain. of fair works, shall flow into the eye and ear, like a health- Or any affinity to virtue in general? giving breeze from a purer region, and insensibly draw the None whatever. soul from earliest years into likeness and sympathy with the Any affinity to wantonness and intemperance? beauty of reason. Yes, the greatest. 71

And is there any greater or keener pleasure than that of sen- are liable to most dangerous illnesses if they depart, in ever so sual love? slight a degree, from their customary regimen? No, nor a madder. Yes, I do. Whereas true love is a love of beauty and order Ð temperate Then, I said, a finer sort of training will be required for our and harmonious? warrior athletes, who are to be like wakeful dogs, and to see Quite true, he said. and hear with the utmost keenness; amid the many changes of Then no intemperance or madness should be allowed to ap- water and also of food, of summer heat and winter cold, which proach true love? they will have to endure when on a campaign, they must not Certainly not. be liable to break down in health. Then mad or intemperate pleasure must never be allowed That is my view. to come near the lover and his beloved; neither of them can The really excellent gymnastic is twin sister of that simple have any part in it if their love is of the right sort? music which we were just now describing. No, indeed, Socrates, it must never come near them. How so? Then I suppose that in the city which we are founding you Why, I conceive that there is a gymnastic which, like our would make a law to the effect that a friend should use no music, is simple and good; and especially the military gym- other familiarity to his love than a father would use to his son, nastic. and then only for a noble purpose, and he must first have the What do you mean? other’s consent; and this rule is to limit him in all his inter- My meaning may be learned from Homer; he, you know, course, and he is never to be seen going further, or, if he ex- feeds his heroes at their feasts, when they are campaigning, ceeds, he is to be deemed guilty of coarseness and bad taste. on soldiers’ fare; they have no fish, although they are on I quite agree, he said. the shores of the Hellespont, and they are not allowed boiled Thus much of music, which makes a fair ending; for what meats but only roast, which is the food most convenient for should be the end of music if not the love of beauty? soldiers, requiring only that they should light a fire, and not I agree, he said. involving the trouble of carrying about pots and pans. True. Physical Training. Physicians and Judges And I can hardly be mistaken in saying that sweet sauces are nowhere mentioned in Homer. In proscribing them, how- After music comes gymnastic, in which our youth are next ever, he is not singular; all professional athletes are well aware to be trained. that a man who is to be in good condition should take nothing Certainly. of the kind. Gymnastic as well as music should begin in early years; the Yes, he said; and knowing this, they are quite right in not training in it should be careful and should continue through taking them. life. Now my belief is, Ð and this is a matter upon which I Then you would not approve of Syracusan dinners, and the should like to have your opinion in confirmation of my own, refinements of Sicilian cookery? but my own belief is, Ð not that the good body by any bodily I think not. excellence improves the soul, but, on the contrary, that the Nor, if a man is to be in condition, would you allow him to good soul, by her own excellence, improves the body as far as have a Corinthian girl as his fair friend? this may be possible. What do you say? Certainly not. Yes, I agree. Neither would you approve of the delicacies, as they are Then, to the mind when adequately trained, we shall be thought, of Athenian confectionery? right in handing over the more particular care of the body; Certainly not. and in order to avoid prolixity we will now only give the gen- All such feeding and living may be rightly compared by us eral outlines of the subject. to melody and song composed in the panharmonic style, and Very good. in all the rhythms. That they must abstain from intoxication has been already Exactly. remarked by us; for of all persons a guardian should be the There complexity engendered license, and here disease; last to get drunk and not know where in the world he is. whereas simplicity in music was the parent of temperance in Yes, he said; that a guardian should require another the soul; and simplicity in gymnastic of health in the body. guardian to take care of him is ridiculous indeed. Most true, he said. But next, what shall we say of their food; for the men are in But when intemperance and disease multiply in a State, training for the great contest of all Ð are they not? halls of justice and medicine are always being opened; and Yes, he said. the arts of the doctor and the lawyer give themselves airs, find- And will the habit of body of our ordinary athletes be suited ing how keen is the interest which not only the slaves but the to them? freemen of a city take about them. Why not? Of course. I am afraid, I said, that a habit of body such as they have And yet what greater proof can there be of a bad and dis- is but a sleepy sort of thing, and rather perilous to health. Do graceful state of education than this, that not only artisans and you not observe that these athletes sleep away their lives, and the meaner sort of people need the skill of first-rate physicians 72 and judges, but also those who would profess to have had a lib- dants in valetudinarian arts, the omission arose, not from ig- eral education? Is it not disgraceful, and a great sign of want norance or inexperience of such a branch of medicine, but be- of good-breeding, that a man should have to go abroad for his cause he knew that in all well-ordered states every individual law and physic because he has none of his own at home, and has an occupation to which he must attend, and has therefore must therefore surrender himself into the hands of other men no leisure to spend in continually being ill. This we remark in whom he makes lords and judges over him? the case of the artisan, but, ludicrously enough, do not apply Of all things, he said, the most disgraceful. the same rule to people of the richer sort. Would you say “most,” I replied, when you consider that How do you mean? he said. there is a further stage of the evil in which a man is not only I mean this: When a carpenter is ill he asks the physician a life-long litigant, passing all his days in the courts, either for a rough and ready cure; an emetic or a purge or a cautery or as plaintiff or defendant, but is actually led by his bad taste the knife, Ð these are his remedies. And if some one prescribes to pride himself on his litigiousness; he imagines that he is for him a course of dietetics, and tells him that he must swathe a master in dishonesty; able to take every crooked turn, and and swaddle his head, and all that sort of thing, he replies at wriggle into and out of every hole, bending like a withy and once that he has no time to be ill, and that he sees no good getting out of the way of justice: and all for what? Ð in order in a life which is spent in nursing his disease to the neglect to gain small points not worth mentioning, he not knowing of his customary employment; and therefore bidding good- that so to order his life as to be able to do without a napping bye to this sort of physician, he resumes his ordinary habits, judge is a far higher and nobler sort of thing. Is not that still and either gets well and lives and does his business, or, if his more disgraceful? constitution fails, he dies and has no more trouble. Yes, he said, that is still more disgraceful. Yes, he said, and a man in his condition of life ought to use Well, I said, and to require the help of medicine, not when a the art of medicine thus far only. wound has to be cured, or on occasion of an epidemic, but just Has he not, I said, an occupation; and what profit would because, by indolence and a habit of life such as we have been there be in his life if he were deprived of his occupation? describing, men fill themselves with waters and winds, as if Quite true, he said. their bodies were a marsh, compelling the ingenious sons of But with the rich man this is otherwise; of him we do not Asclepius to find more names for diseases, such as flatulence say that he has any specially appointed work which he must and catarrh; is not this, too, a disgrace? perform, if he would live. Yes, he said, they do certainly give very strange and new- He is generally supposed to have nothing to do. fangled names to diseases. Then you never heard of the saying of Phocylides, that as Yes, I said, and I do not believe that there were any such soon as a man has a livelihood he should practise virtue? diseases in the days of Asclepius; and this I infer from the Nay, he said, I think that he had better begin somewhat circumstance that the hero Eurypylus, after he has been sooner. wounded in Homer, drinks a posset of Pramnian wine well be- Let us not have a dispute with him about this, I said; but sprinkled with barley-meal and grated cheese, which are cer- rather ask ourselves: Is the practice of virtue obligatory on tainly inflammatory, and yet the sons of Asclepius who were the rich man, or can he live without it? And if obligatory on at the Trojan war do not blame the damsel who gives him the him, then let us raise a further question, whether this dieting drink, or rebuke Patroclus, who is treating his case. of disorders which is an impediment to the application of the Well, he said, that was surely an extraordinary drink to be mind in carpentering and the mechanical arts, does not equally given to a person in his condition. stand in the way of the sentiment of Phocylides? Not so extraordinary, I replied, if you bear in mind that in Of that, he replied, there can be no doubt; such excessive former days, as is commonly said, before the time of Herod- care of the body, when carried beyond the rules of gymnastic, icus, the guild of Asclepius did not practise our present sys- is most inimical to the practise of virtue. tem of medicine, which may be said to educate diseases. But Yes, indeed, I replied, and equally incompatible with the Herodicus, being a trainer, and himself of a sickly constitu- management of a house, an army, or an office of state; and, tion, by a combination of training and doctoring found out what is most important of all, irreconcilable with any kind a way of torturing first and chiefly himself, and secondly the of study or thought or self-reflection Ð there is a constant rest of the world. suspicion that headache and giddiness are to be ascribed to How was that? he said. philosophy, and hence all practising or making trial of virtue By the invention of lingering death; for he had a mortal in the higher sense is absolutely stopped; for a man is always disease which he perpetually tended, and as recovery was out fancying that he is being made ill, and is in constant anxiety of the question, he passed his entire life as a valetudinarian; about the state of his body. he could do nothing but attend upon himself, and he was in Yes, likely enough. constant torment whenever he departed in anything from his And therefore our politic Asclepius may be supposed to usual regimen, and so dying hard, by the help of science he have exhibited the power of his art only to persons who, be- struggled on to old age. ing generally of healthy constitution and habits of life, had A rare reward of his skill! a definite ailment; such as these he cured by purges and op- Yes, I said; a reward which a man might fairly expect who erations, and bade them live as usual, herein consulting the never understood that, if Asclepius did not instruct his descen- interests of the State; but bodies which disease had penetrated 73 through and through he would not have attempted to cure by vicious minds, and to have associated with them from youth gradual processes of evacuation and infusion: he did not want upwards, and to have gone through the whole calendar of to lengthen out good-for-nothing lives, or to have weak fathers crime, only in order that he may quickly infer the crimes begetting weaker sons; Ð if a man was not able to live in the of others as he might their bodily diseases from his own ordinary way he had no business to cure him; for such a cure self-consciousness; the honourable mind which is to form a would have been of no use either to himself, or to the State. healthy judgment should have had no experience or contami- Then, he said, you regard Asclepius as a statesman. nation of evil habits when young. And this is the reason why Clearly; and his character is further illustrated by his sons. in youth good men often appear to be simple, and are easily Note that they were heroes in the days of old and practised practised upon by the dishonest, because they have no exam- the medicines of which I am speaking at the siege of Troy: ples of what evil is in their own souls. You will remember how, when Pandarus wounded Menelaus, Yes, he said, they are far too apt to be deceived. they “Sucked the blood out of the wound, and sprinkled sooth- Therefore, I said, the judge should not be young; he should ing remedies,” but they never prescribed what the patient was have learned to know evil, not from his own soul, but from late afterwards to eat or drink in the case of Menelaus, any more and long observation of the nature of evil in others: knowl- than in the case of Eurypylus; the remedies, as they conceived, edge should be his guide, not personal experience. were enough to heal any man who before he was wounded was Yes, he said, that is the ideal of a judge. healthy and regular in habits; and even though he did hap- Yes, I replied, and he will be a good man (which is my pen to drink a posset of Pramnian wine, he might get well all answer to your question); for he is good who has a good soul. the same. But they would have nothing to do with unhealthy But the cunning and suspicious nature of which we spoke, Ð and intemperate subjects, whose lives were of no use either to he who has committed many crimes, and fancies himself to themselves or others; the art of medicine was not designed for be a master in wickedness, when he is amongst his fellows, their good, and though they were as rich as Midas, the sons of is wonderful in the precautions which he takes, because he Asclepius would have declined to attend them. judges of them by himself: but when he gets into the company They were very acute persons, those sons of Asclepius. of men of virtue, who have the experience of age, he appears Naturally so, I replied. Nevertheless, the tragedians and to be a fool again, owing to his unseasonable suspicions; he Pindar disobeying our behests, although they acknowledge cannot recognise an honest man, because he has no pattern that Asclepius was the son of Apollo, say also that he was of honesty in himself; at the same time, as the bad are more bribed into healing a rich man who was at the point of death, numerous than the good, and he meets with them oftener, he and for this reason he was struck by lightning. But we, in ac- thinks himself, and is by others thought to be, rather wise than cordance with the principle already affirmed by us, will not foolish. believe them when they tell us both; Ð if he was the son of Most true, he said. a god, we maintain that he was not avaricious; or, if he was Then the good and wise judge whom we are seeking is not avaricious he was not the son of a god. this man, but the other; for vice cannot know virtue too, but a All that, Socrates, is excellent; but I should like to put a virtuous nature, educated by time, will acquire a knowledge question to you: Ought there not to be good physicians in a both of virtue and vice: the virtuous, and not the vicious man State, and are not the best those who have treated the greatest has wisdom Ð in my opinion. number of constitutions good and bad? and are not the best And in mine also. judges in like manner those who are acquainted with all sorts of moral natures? This is the sort of medicine, and this is the sort of law, which you will sanction in your State. They will minister to better Yes, I said, I too would have good judges and good physi- natures, giving health both of soul and of body; but those cians. But do you know whom I think good? who are diseased in their bodies they will leave to die, and the Will you tell me? corrupt and incurable souls they will put an end to themselves. I will, if I can. Let me however note that in the same ques- tion you join two things which are not the same. That is clearly the best thing both for the patients and for the State. How so? he asked. Why, I said, you join physicians and judges. Now the most And thus our youth, having been educated only in that sim- skillful physicians are those who, from their youth upwards, ple music which, as we said, inspires temperance, will be re- have combined with the knowledge of their art the greatest ex- luctant to go to law. perience of disease; they had better not be robust in health, Clearly. and should have had all manner of diseases in their own per- And the musician, who, keeping to the same track, is con- sons. For the body, as I conceive, is not the instrument with tent to practise the simple gymnastic, will have nothing to do which they cure the body; in that case we could not allow them with medicine unless in some extreme case. ever to be or to have been sickly; but they cure the body with That I quite believe. the mind, and the mind which has become and is sick can cure The very exercises and toils which he undergoes are in- nothing. tended to stimulate the spirited element of his nature, and not That is very true, he said. to increase his strength; he will not, like common athletes, use But with the judge it is otherwise; since he governs mind exercise and regimen to develop his muscles. by mind; he ought not therefore to have been trained among Very right, he said. 74

Neither are the two arts of music and gymnastic really de- Certainly. signed, as is often supposed, the one for the training of the And what happens? if he do nothing else, and holds no con- soul, the other for the training of the body. verse with the Muses, does not even that intelligence which What then is the real object of them? there may be in him, having no taste of any sort of learning or I believe, I said, that the teachers of both have in view enquiry or thought or culture, grow feeble and dull and blind, chiefly the improvement of the soul. his mind never waking up or receiving nourishment, and his How can that be? he asked. senses not being purged of their mists? Did you never observe, I said, the effect on the mind itself True, he said. of exclusive devotion to gymnastic, or the opposite effect of And he ends by becoming a hater of philosophy, uncivi- an exclusive devotion to music? lized, never using the weapon of persuasion, Ð he is like a In what way shown? he said. wild beast, all violence and fierceness, and knows no other The one producing a temper of hardness and ferocity, the way of dealing; and he lives in all ignorance and evil condi- other of softness and effeminacy, I replied. tions, and has no sense of propriety and grace. Yes, he said, I am quite aware that the mere athlete becomes That is quite true, he said. too much of a savage, and that the mere musician is melted And as there are two principles of human nature, one the and softened beyond what is good for him. spirited and the other the philosophical, some God, as I should Yet surely, I said, this ferocity only comes from spirit, say, has given mankind two arts answering to them (and only which, if rightly educated, would give courage, but, if too indirectly to the soul and the body), in order that these two much intensified, is liable to become hard and brutal. principles (like the strings of an instrument) may be relaxed That I quite think. or drawn tighter until they are duly harmonized. On the other hand the philosopher will have the quality That appears to be the intention. of gentleness. And this also, when too much indulged, will And he who mingles music with gymnastic in the fairest turn to softness, but, if educated rightly, will be gentle and proportions, and best attempers them to the soul, may be moderate. rightly called the true musician and harmonist in a far higher True. sense than the tuner of the strings. And in our opinion the guardians ought to have both these You are quite right, Socrates. qualities? And such a presiding genius will be always required in our Assuredly. State if the government is to last? And both should be in harmony? Yes, he will be absolutely necessary. Beyond question. Such, then, are our principles of nurture and education: And the harmonious soul is both temperate and coura- Where would be the use of going into further details about the geous? dances of our citizens, or about their hunting and coursing, Yes. their gymnastic and equestrian contests? For these all follow And the inharmonious is cowardly and boorish? the general principle, and having found that, we shall have no Very true. difficulty in discovering them. And, when a man allows music to play upon him and to I dare say that there will be no difficulty. pour into his soul through the funnel of his ears those sweet and soft and melancholy airs of which we were just now speaking, and his whole life is passed in warbling and the de- 3.2.6. Selection of Rulers: The Guardian’s Manner of Living lights of song; in the first stage of the process the passion or spirit which is in him is tempered like iron, and made useful, Very good, I said; then what is the next question? Must we instead of brittle and useless. But, if he carries on the soften- not ask who are to be rulers and who subjects? ing and soothing process, in the next stage he begins to melt Certainly. and waste, until he has wasted away his spirit and cut out the sinews of his soul; and he becomes a feeble warrior. There can be no doubt that the elder must rule the younger. Very true. Clearly. If the element of spirit is naturally weak in him the change And that the best of these must rule. is speedily accomplished, but if he have a good deal, then the That is also clear. power of music weakening the spirit renders him excitable; Ð Now, are not the best husbandmen those who are most de- on the least provocation he flames up at once, and is speedily voted to husbandry? extinguished; instead of having spirit he grows irritable and Yes. passionate and is quite impracticable. And as we are to have the best of guardians for our city, Exactly. must they not be those who have most the character of And so in gymnastics, if a man takes violent exercise and guardians? is a great feeder, and the reverse of a great student of music Yes. and philosophy, at first the high condition of his body fills him And to this end they ought to be wise and efficient, and to with pride and spirit, and lie becomes twice the man that he have a special care of the State? was. True. 75

And a man will be most likely to care about that which he proof of the same qualities. loves? Very right, he replied. To be sure. And then, I said, we must try them with enchantments Ð And he will be most likely to love that which he regards as that is the third sort of test Ð and see what will be their be- having the same interests with himself, and that of which the haviour: like those who take colts amid noise and tumult to good or evil fortune is supposed by him at any time most to see if they are of a timid nature, so must we take our youth affect his own? amid terrors of some kind, and again pass them into plea- Very true, he replied. sures, and prove them more thoroughly than gold is proved Then there must be a selection. Let us note among the in the furnace, that we may discover whether they are armed guardians those who in their whole life show the greatest ea- against all enchantments, and of a noble bearing always, good gerness to do what is for the good of their country, and the guardians of themselves and of the music which they have greatest repugnance to do what is against her interests. learned, and retaining under all circumstances a rhythmical Those are the right men. and harmonious nature, such as will be most serviceable to And they will have to be watched at every age, in order that the individual and to the State. And he who at every age, as we may see whether they preserve their resolution, and never, boy and youth and in mature life, has come out of the trial under the influence either of force or enchantment, forget or victorious and pure, shall be appointed a ruler and guardian cast off their sense of duty to the State. of the State; he shall be honoured in life and death, and shall How cast off? he said. receive sepulture and other memorials of honour, the greatest I will explain to you, I replied. A resolution may go out of that we have to give. But him who fails, we must reject. I a man’s mind either with his will or against his will; with his am inclined to think that this is the sort of way in which our will when he gets rid of a falsehood and learns better, against rulers and guardians should be chosen and appointed. I speak his will whenever he is deprived of a truth. generally, and not with any pretension to exactness. I understand, he said, the willing loss of a resolution; the And, speaking generally, I agree with you, he said. meaning of the unwilling I have yet to learn. And perhaps the word “guardian” in the fullest sense ought Why, I said, do you not see that men are unwillingly de- to be applied to this higher class only who preserve us against prived of good, and willingly of evil? Is not to have lost the foreign enemies and maintain peace among our citizens at truth an evil, and to possess the truth a good? and you would home, that the one may not have the will, or the others the agree that to conceive things as they are is to possess the truth? power, to harm us. The young men whom we before called Yes, he replied; I agree with you in thinking that mankind guardians may be more properly designated auxiliaries and are deprived of truth against their will. supporters of the principles of the rulers. And is not this involuntary deprivation caused either by I agree with you, he said. theft, or force, or enchantment? How then may we devise one of those needful falsehoods of Still, he replied, I do not understand you. which we lately spoke Ð just one royal lie which may deceive I fear that I must have been talking darkly, like the tragedi- the rulers, if that be possible, and at any rate the rest of the ans. I only mean that some men are changed by persuasion city? and that others forget; argument steals away the hearts of one What sort of lie? he said. class, and time of the other; and this I call theft. Now you Nothing new, I replied; only an old Phoenician tale of what understand me? has often occurred before now in other places, (as the poets Yes. say, and have made the world believe,) though not in our time, Those again who are forced are those whom the violence of and I do not know whether such an event could ever happen some pain or grief compels to change their opinion. again, or could now even be made probable, if it did. I understand, he said, and you are quite right. How your words seem to hesitate on your lips! And you would also acknowledge that the enchanted are You will not wonder, I replied, at my hesitation when you those who change their minds either under the softer influence have heard. of pleasure, or the sterner influence of fear? Speak, he said, and fear not. Yes, he said; everything that deceives may be said to en- Well then, I will speak, although I really know not how to chant. look you in the face, or in what words to utter the audacious Therefore, as I was just now saying, we must enquire who fiction, which I propose to communicate gradually, first to the are the best guardians of their own conviction that what they rulers, then to the soldiers, and lastly to the people. They are think the interest of the State is to be the rule of their lives. We to be told that their youth was a dream, and the education and must watch them from their youth upwards, and make them training which they received from us, an appearance only; in perform actions in which they are most likely to forget or to reality during all that time they were being formed and fed be deceived, and he who remembers and is not deceived is to in the womb of the earth, where they themselves and their be selected, and he who fails in the trial is to be rejected. That arms and appurtenances were manufactured; when they were will be the way? completed, the earth, their mother, sent them up; and so, their Yes. country being their mother and also their nurse, they are bound And there should also be toils and pains and conflicts pre- to advise for her good, and to defend her against attacks, and scribed for them, in which they will be made to give further her citizens they are to regard as children of the earth and their 76 own brothers. allies? You had good reason, he said, to be ashamed of the lie Yes, great care should be taken. which you were going to tell. And would not a really good education furnish the best True, I replied, but there is more coming; I have only told safeguard? you half. Citizens, we shall say to them in our tale, you are But they are well-educated already, he replied. brothers, yet God has framed you differently. Some of you I cannot be so confident, my dear Glaucon, I said; I am have the power of command, and in the composition of these much certain that they ought to be, and that true education, he has mingled gold, wherefore also they have the greatest whatever that may be, will have the greatest tendency to civi- honour; others he has made of silver, to be auxilaries; oth- lize and humanize them in their relations to one another, and ers again who are to be husbandmen and craftsmen he has to those who are under their protection. composed of brass and iron; and the species will generally be Very true, he replied. preserved in the children. But as all are of the same original And not only their education, but their habitations, and all stock, a golden parent will sometimes have a silver son, or that belongs to them, should be such as will neither impair a silver parent a golden son. And God proclaims as a first their virtue as guardians, nor tempt them to prey upon the principle to the rulers, and above all else, that there is noth- other citizens. Any man of sense must acknowledge that. ing which should so anxiously guard, or of which they are to He must. be such good guardians, as of the purity of the race. They Then let us consider what will be their way of life, if they should observe what elements mingle in their offspring; for if are to realize our idea of them. In the first place, none of them the son of a golden or silver parent has an admixture of brass should have any property of his own beyond what is abso- and iron, then nature orders a transposition of ranks, and the lutely necessary; neither should they have a private house or eye of the ruler must not be pitiful towards the child because store closed against any one who has a mind to enter; their he has to descend in the scale and become a husbandman or provisions should be only such as are required by trained war- artisan, just as there may be sons of artisans who having an riors, who are men of temperance and courage; they should admixture of gold or silver in them are raised to honour, and agree to receive from the citizens a fixed rate of pay, enough to become guardians or auxiliaries. For an oracle says that when meet the expenses of the year and no more; and they will go to a man of brass or iron guards the State, it will be destroyed. mess and live together like soldiers in a camp. Gold and silver Such is the tale; is there any possibility of making our citizens we will tell them that they have from God; the diviner metal believe in it? is within them, and they have therefore no need of the dross Not in the present generation, he replied; there is no way of which is current among men, and ought not to pollute the di- accomplishing this; but their sons may be made to believe in vine by any such earthly admixture; for that commoner metal the tale, and their sons’ sons, and posterity after them. has been the source of many unholy deeds, but their own is I see the difficulty, I replied; yet the fostering of such a undefiled. And they alone of all the citizens may not touch or belief will make them care more for the city and for one an- handle silver or gold, or be under the same roof with them, or other. Enough, however, of the fiction, which may now fly wear them, or drink from them. And this will be their salva- abroad upon the wings of rumour, while we arm our earth- tion, and they will be the saviours of the State. But should they born heroes, and lead them forth under the command of their ever acquire homes or lands or moneys of their own, they will rulers. Let them look round and select a spot whence they can become housekeepers and husbandmen instead of guardians, best suppress insurrection, if any prove refractory within, and enemies and tyrants instead of allies of the other citizens; hat- also defend themselves against enemies, who like wolves may ing and being hated, plotting and being plotted against, they come down on the fold from without; there let them encamp, will pass their whole life in much greater terror of internal than and when they have encamped, let them sacrifice to the proper of external enemies, and the hour of ruin, both to themselves Gods and prepare their dwellings. and to the rest of the State, will be at hand. For all which Just so, he said. reasons may we not say that thus shall our State be ordered, And their dwellings must be such as will shield them and that these shall be the regulations appointed by us for our against the cold of winter and the heat of summer. guardians concerning their houses and all other matters? I suppose that you mean houses, he replied. Yes, said Glaucon. Yes, I said; but they must be the houses of soldiers, and not Here Adeimantus interposed a question: How would you of shop-keepers. answer, Socrates, said he, if a person were to say that you are What is the difference? he said. making these people miserable, and that they are the cause That I will endeavour to explain, I replied. To keep watch- of their own unhappiness; the city in fact belongs to them, dogs, who, from want of discipline or hunger, or some evil but they are none the better for it; whereas other men acquire habit or other, would turn upon the sheep and worry them, lands, and build large and handsome houses, and have every- and behave not like dogs but wolves, would be a foul and thing handsome about them, offering sacrifices to the gods monstrous thing in a shepherd? on their own account, and practising hospitality; moreover, as Truly monstrous, he said. you were saying just now, they have gold and silver, and all And therefore every care must be taken that our auxiliaries, that is usual among the favourites of fortune; but our poor cit- being stronger than our citizens, may not grow to be too much izens are no better than mercenaries who are quartered in the for them and become savage tyrants instead of friends and city and are always mounting guard? 77

Yes, I said; and you may add that they are only fed, and ually, or whether this principle of happiness does not rather not paid in addition to their food, like other men; and there- reside in the State as a whole. But if the latter be the truth, fore they cannot, if they would, take a journey of pleasure; then the guardians and auxilaries, and all others equally with they have no money to spend on a mistress or any other luxu- them, must be compelled or induced to do their own work in rious fancy, which, as the world goes, is thought to be happi- the best way. And thus the whole State will grow up in a no- ness; and many other accusations of the same nature might be ble order, and the several classes will receive the proportion added. of happiness which nature assigns to them. But, said he, let us suppose all this to be included in the I think that you are quite right. charge. You mean to ask, I said, what will be our answer? Yes. 3.2.7. The Virtues in the State If we proceed along the old path, my belief, I said, is that we shall find the answer. And our answer will be that, even as But where, amid all this, is justice? son of Ariston, tell me they are, our guardians may very likely be the happiest of men; where. Now that our city has been made habitable, light a but that our aim in founding the State was not the dispropor- candle and search, and get your brother and Polemarchus and tionate happiness of any one class, but the greatest happiness the rest of our friends to help, and let us see where in it we can of the whole; we thought that in a State which is ordered with discover justice and where injustice, and in what they differ a view to the good of the whole we should be most likely to from one another, and which of them the man who would be find Justice, and in the ill-ordered State injustice: and, having happy should have for his portion, whether seen or unseen by found them, we might then decide which of the two is the hap- gods and men. pier. At present, I take it, we are fashioning the happy State, Nonsense, said Glaucon: did you not promise to search not piecemeal, or with a view of making a few happy citizens, yourself, saying that for you not to help justice in her need but as a whole; and by-and-by we will proceed to view the op- would be an impiety? posite kind of State. Suppose that we were painting a statue, I do not deny that I said so; and as you remind me, I will be and some one came up to us and said, Why do you not put as good as my word; but you must join. the most beautiful colours on the most beautiful parts of the We will, he replied. body Ð the eyes ought to be purple, but you have made them Well, then, I hope to make the discovery in this way: I mean black Ð to him we might fairly answer, Sir, you would not to begin with the assumption that our State, if rightly ordered, surely have us beautify the eyes to such a degree that they are is perfect. no longer eyes; consider rather whether, by giving this and That is most certain. the other features their due proportion, we make the whole And being perfect, is therefore wise and valiant and tem- beautiful. And so I say to you, do not compel us to assign to perate and just. the guardians a sort of happiness which will make them any- That is likewise clear. thing but guardians; for we too can clothe our husbandmen And whichever of these qualities we find in the State, the in royal apparel, and set crowns of gold on their heads, and one which is not found will be the residue? bid them till the ground as much as they like, and no more. Very good. Our potters also might be allowed to repose on couches, and If there were four things, and we were searching for one feast by the fireside, passing round the winecup, while their of them, wherever it might be, the one sought for might be wheel is conveniently at hand, and working at pottery only known to us from the first, and there would be no further trou- as much as they like; in this way we might make every class ble; or we might know the other three first, and then the fourth happy Ð and then, as you imagine, the whole State would be would clearly be the one left. happy. But do not put this idea into our heads; for, if we Very true, he said. listen to you, the husbandman will be no longer a husband- And is not a similar method to be pursued about the virtues, man, the potter will cease to be a potter, and no one will have which are also four in number? the character of any distinct class in the State. Now this is Clearly. not of much consequence where the corruption of society, and pretension to be what you are not, is confined to cobblers; but First among the virtues found in the State, wisdom comes when the guardians of the laws and of the government are only into view, and in this I detect a certain peculiarity. seemingly and not real guardians, then see how they turn the What is that? State upside down; and on the other hand they alone have the The State which we have been describing is said to be wise power of giving order and happiness to the State. We mean as being good in counsel? our guardians to be true saviours and not the destroyers of Very true. the State, whereas our opponent is thinking of peasants at a And good counsel is clearly a kind of knowledge, for not festival, who are enjoying a life of revelry, not of citizens who by ignorance, but by knowledge, do men counsel well? are doing their duty to the State. But, if so, we mean different Clearly. things, and he is speaking of something which is not a State. And the kinds of knowledge in a State are many and di- And therefore we must consider whether in appointing our verse? guardians we would look to their greatest happiness individ- Of course. 78

There is the knowledge of the carpenter; but is that the sort Certainly not. of knowledge which gives a city the title of wise and good in The city will be courageous in virtue of a portion of herself counsel? which preserves under all circumstances that opinion about Certainly not; that would only give a city the reputation of the nature of things to be feared and not to be feared in skill in carpentering. which our legislator educated them; and this is what you term Then a city is not to be called wise because possessing a courage. knowledge which counsels for the best about wooden imple- I should like to hear what you are saying once more, for I ments? do not think that I perfectly understand you. Certainly not. I mean that courage is a kind of salvation. Nor by reason of a knowledge which advises about brazen Salvation of what? pots, I said, nor as possessing any other similar knowledge? Of the opinion respecting things to be feared, what they are Not by reason of any of them, he said. and of what nature, which the law implants through education; Nor yet by reason of a knowledge which cultivates the and I mean by the words “under all circumstances” to intimate earth; that would give the city the name of agricultural? that in pleasure or in pain, or under the influence of desire or Yes. fear, a man preserves, and does not lose this opinion. Shall I Well, I said, and is there any knowledge in our recently- give you an illustration? founded State among any of the citizens which advises, not If you please. about any particular thing in the State, but about the whole, You know, I said, that dyers, when they want to dye wool and considers how a State can best deal with itself and with for making the true sea-purple, begin by selecting their white other States? colour first; this they prepare and dress with much care and There certainly is. pains, in order that the white ground may take the purple hue And what is this knowledge, and among whom is it found? in full perfection. The dyeing then proceeds; and whatever I asked. is dyed in this manner becomes a fast colour, and no washing It is the knowledge of the guardians, he replied, and is found either with lyes or without them can take away the bloom. among those whom we were just now describing as perfect But, when the ground has not been duly prepared, you will guardians. have noticed how poor is the look either of purple or of any And what is the name which the city derives from the pos- other colour. session of this sort of knowledge? Yes, he said; I know that they have a washed-out and ridicu- The name of good in counsel and truly wise. lous appearance. And will there be in our city more of these true guardians Then now, I said, you will understand what our object was or more smiths? in selecting our soldiers, and educating them in music and The smiths, he replied, will be far more numerous. gymnastic; we were contriving influences which would pre- Will not the guardians be the smallest of all the classes who pare them to take the dye of the laws in perfection, and the receive a name from the profession of some kind of knowl- colour of their opinion about dangers and of every other opin- edge? ion was to be indelibly fixed by their nurture and training, not Much the smallest. to be washed away by such potent lyes as pleasure Ð mightier And so by reason of the smallest part or class, and of the agent far in washing the soul than any soda or lye; or by sor- knowledge which resides in this presiding and ruling part of row, fear, and desire, the mightiest of all other solvents. And itself, the whole State, being thus constituted according to na- this sort of universal saving power of true opinion in confor- ture, will be wise; and this, which has the only knowledge mity with law about real and false dangers I call and maintain worthy to be called wisdom, has been ordained by nature to to be courage, unless you disagree. be of all classes the least. But I agree, he replied; for I suppose that you mean to ex- Most true. clude mere uninstructed courage, such as that of a wild beast Thus, then, I said, the nature and place in the State of one or of a slave Ð this, in your opinion, is not the courage which of the four virtues has somehow or other been discovered. the law ordains, and ought to have another name. And, in my humble opinion, very satisfactorily discovered, Most certainly. he replied. Then I may infer courage to be such as you describe? Again, I said, there is no difficulty in seeing the nature of Why, yes, said I, you may, and if you add the words “of a courage, and in what part that quality resides which gives the citizen,” you will not be far wrong; Ð hereafter, if you like, name of courageous to the State. we will carry the examination further, but at present we are How do you mean? seeking not for courage but justice; and for the purpose of our Why, I said, every one who calls any State courageous or enquiry we have said enough. cowardly, will be thinking of the part which fights and goes You are right, he replied. out to war on the State’s behalf. Two virtues remain to be discovered in the State Ð first tem- No one, he replied, would ever think of any other. perance, and then justice which is the end of our search. The rest of the citizens may be courageous or may be cow- Very true. ardly, but their courage or cowardice will not, as I conceive, Now, can we find justice without troubling ourselves about have the effect of making the city either the one or the other. temperance? 79

I do not know how that can be accomplished, he said, nor do our State? I desire that justice should be brought to light and temperance Undoubtedly. lost sight of; and therefore I wish that you would do me the And the citizens being thus agreed among themselves, in favour of considering temperance first. which class will temperance be found Ð in the rulers or in the Certainly, I replied, I should not be justified in refusing subjects? your request. In both, as I should imagine, he replied. Then consider, he said. Do you observe that we were not far wrong in our guess Yes, I replied; I will; and as far as I can at present see, the that temperance was a sort of harmony? virtue of temperance has more of the nature of harmony and Why so? symphony than the preceding. Why, because temperance is unlike courage and wisdom, How so? he asked. each of which resides in a part only, the one making the State Temperance, I replied, is the ordering or controlling of cer- wise and the other valiant; not so temperance, which extends tain pleasures and desires; this is curiously enough implied in to the whole, and runs through all the notes of the scale, and the saying of “a man being his own master”; and other traces produces a harmony of the weaker and the stronger and the of the same notion may be found in language. middle class, whether you suppose them to be stronger or No doubt, he said. weaker in wisdom or power or numbers or wealth, or any- There is something ridiculous in the expression “master of thing else. Most truly then may we deem temperance to be himself”; for the master is also the servant and the servant the the agreement of the naturally superior and inferior, as to the master; and in all these modes of speaking the same person is right to rule of either, both in states and individuals. denoted. I entirely agree with you. Certainly. And so, I said, we may consider three out of the four virtues The meaning is, I believe, that in the human soul there is to have been discovered in our State. The last of those qual- a better and also a worse principle; and when the better has ities which make a state virtuous must be justice, if we only the worse under control, then a man is said to be master of knew what that was. himself; and this is a term of praise: but when, owing to evil The inference is obvious. education or association, the better principle, which is also The time then has arrived, Glaucon, when, like huntsmen, the smaller, is overwhelmed by the greater mass of the worse we should surround the cover, and look sharp that justice does Ð in this case he is blamed and is called the slave of self and not steal away, and pass out of sight and escape us; for beyond unprincipled. a doubt she is somewhere in this country: watch therefore and Yes, there is reason in that. strive to catch a sight of her, and if you see her first, let me And now, I said, look at our newly-created State, and there know. you will find one of these two conditions realized; for the Would that I could! but you should regard me rather as a State, as you will acknowledge, may be justly called master follower who has just eyes enough to see what you show him of itself, if the words “temperance” and “self-mastery” truly Ð that is about as much as I am good for. express the rule of the better part over the worse. Offer up a prayer with me and follow. Yes, he said, I see that what you say is true. I will, but you must show me the way. Let me further note that the manifold and complex plea- Here is no path, I said, and the wood is dark and perplexing; sures and desires and pains are generally found in children still we must push on. and women and servants, and in the freemen so called who Let us push on. are of the lowest and more numerous class. Here I saw something: Halloo! I said, I begin to perceive a Certainly, he said. track, and I believe that the quarry will not escape. Whereas the simple and moderate desires which follow rea- Good news, he said. son, and are under the guidance of mind and true opinion, are Truly, I said, we are stupid fellows. to be found only in a few, and those the best born and best Why so? educated. Why, my good sir, at the beginning of our enquiry, ages Very true. ago, there was justice tumbling out at our feet, and we never These two, as you may perceive, have a place in our State; saw her; nothing could be more ridiculous. Like people who and the meaner desires of the many are held down by the go about looking for what they have in their hands Ð that was virtuous desires and wisdom of the few. the way with us Ð we looked not at what we were seeking, but That I perceive, he said. at what was far off in the distance; and therefore, I suppose, Then if there be any city which may be described as master we missed her. of its own pleasures and desires, and master of itself, ours may What do you mean? claim such a designation? I mean to say that in reality for a long time past we have Certainly, he replied. been talking of justice, and have failed to recognise her. It may also be called temperate, and for the same reasons? I grow impatient at the length of your exordium. Yes. Well then, tell me, I said, whether I am right or not: You And if there be any State in which rulers and subjects will remember the original principle which we were always lay- be agreed as to the question who are to rule, that again will be ing down at the foundation of the State, that one man should 80 practise one thing only, the thing to which his nature was best But when the cobbler or any other man whom nature de- adapted; Ð now justice is this principle or a part of it. signed to be a trader, having his heart lifted up by wealth or Yes, we often said that one man should do one thing only. strength or the number of his followers, or any like advan- Further, we affirmed that justice was doing one’s own busi- tage, attempts to force his way into the class of warriors, or a ness, and not being a busybody; we said so again and again, warrior into that of legislators and guardians, for which he is and many others have said the same to us. unfitted, and either to take the implements or the duties of the Yes, we said so. other; or when one man is trader, legislator, and warrior all Then to do one’s own business in a certain way may be in one, then I think you will agree with me in saying that this assumed to be justice. Can you tell me whence I derive this interchange and this meddling of one with another is the ruin inference? of the State. I cannot, but I should like to be told. Most true. Because I think that this is the only virtue which remains Seeing then, I said, that there are three distinct classes, any in the State when the other virtues of temperance and courage meddling of one with another, or the change of one into an- and wisdom are abstracted; and, that this is the ultimate cause other, is the greatest harm to the State, and may be most justly and condition of the existence of all of them, and while re- termed evil-doing? maining in them is also their preservative; and we were say- Precisely. ing that if the three were discovered by us, justice would be And the greatest degree of evil-doing to one’s own city the fourth or remaining one. would be termed by you injustice? That follows of necessity. Certainly. If we are asked to determine which of these four qualities This then is injustice; and on the other hand when the trader, by its presence contributes most to the excellence of the State, the auxiliary, and the guardian each do their own business, that whether the agreement of rulers and subjects, or the preserva- is justice, and will make the city just. tion in the soldiers of the opinion which the law ordains about I agree with you. the true nature of dangers, or wisdom and watchfulness in the rulers, or whether this other which I am mentioning, and which is found in children and women, slave and freeman, 3.2.8. The Three Parts of the Soul artisan, ruler, subject, Ð the quality, I mean, of every one do- ing his own work, and not being a busybody, would claim the We will not, I said, be over-positive as yet; but if, on trial, palm Ð the question is not so easily answered. this conception of justice be verified in the individual as well Certainly, he replied, there would be a difficulty in saying as in the State, there will be no longer any room for doubt; which. if it be not verified, we must have a fresh enquiry. First let Then the power of each individual in the State to do his us complete the old investigation, which we began, as you own work appears to compete with the other political virtues, remember, under the impression that, if we could previously wisdom, temperance, courage. examine justice on the larger scale, there would be less diffi- Yes, he said. culty in discerning her in the individual. That larger example And the virtue which enters into this competition is justice? appeared to be the State, and accordingly we constructed as Exactly. good a one as we could, knowing well that in the good State Let us look at the question from another point of view: Are justice would be found. Let the discovery which we made be not the rulers in a State those to whom you would entrust the now applied to the individual Ð if they agree, we shall be sat- office of determining suits at law? isfied; or, if there be a difference in the individual, we will Certainly. come back to the State and have another trial of the theory. And are suits decided on any other ground but that a man The friction of the two when rubbed together may possibly may neither take what is another’s, nor be deprived of what is strike a light in which justice will shine forth, and the vision his own? which is then revealed we will fix in our souls. Yes; that is their principle. That will be in regular course; let us do as you say. Which is a just principle? I proceeded to ask: When two things, a greater and less, are Yes. called by the same name, are they like or unlike in so far as Then on this view also justice will be admitted to be the they are called the same? having and doing what is a man’s own, and belongs to him? Like, he replied. Very true. The just man then, if we regard the idea of justice only, will Think, now, and say whether you agree with me or not. be like the just State? Suppose a carpenter to be doing the business of a cobbler, or He will. a cobbler of a carpenter; and suppose them to exchange their And a State was thought by us to be just when the three implements or their duties, or the same person to be doing the classes in the State severally did their own business; and also work of both, or whatever be the change; do you think that thought to be temperate and valiant and wise by reason of cer- any great harm would result to the State? tain other affections and qualities of these same classes? Not much. True, he said. 81

And so of the individual; we may assume that he has the mode of speech we should object, and should rather say that same three principles in his own soul which are found in the one part of him is in motion while another is at rest. State; and he may be rightly described in the same terms, be- Very true. cause he is affected in the same manner? And suppose the objector to refine still further, and to draw Certainly, he said. the nice distinction that not only parts of tops, but whole tops, Once more then, O my friend, we have alighted upon an when they spin round with their pegs fixed on the spot, are easy question Ð whether the soul has these three principles or at rest and in motion at the same time (and he may say the not? same of anything which revolves in the same spot), his ob- An easy question! Nay, rather, Socrates, the proverb holds jection would not be admitted by us, because in such cases that hard is the good. things are not at rest and in motion in the same parts of them- Very true, I said; and I do not think that the method which selves; we should rather say that they have both an axis and we are employing is at all adequate to the accurate solution a circumference; and that the axis stands still, for there is no of this question; the true method is another and a longer one. deviation from the perpendicular; and that the circumference Still we may arrive at a solution not below the level of the goes round. But if, while revolving, the axis inclines either to previous enquiry. the right or left, forwards or backwards, then in no point of May we not be satisfied with that? he said; Ð under the view can they be at rest. circumstances, I am quite content. That is the correct mode of describing them, he replied. I too, I replied, shall be extremely well satisfied. Then none of these objections will confuse us, or incline us Then faint not in pursuing the speculation, he said. to believe that the same thing at the same time, in the same part or in relation to the same thing, can act or be acted upon Must we not acknowledge, I said, that in each of us there in contrary ways. are the same principles and habits which there are in the State; Certainly not, according to my way of thinking. and that from the individual they pass into the State? Ð how Yet, I said, that we may not be compelled to examine all else can they come there? Take the quality of passion or spirit; such objections, and prove at length that they are untrue, let us Ð it would be ridiculous to imagine that this quality, when assume their absurdity, and go forward on the understanding found in States, is not derived from the individuals who are that hereafter, if this assumption turn out to be untrue, all the supposed to possess it, e.g. the Thracians, Scythians, and in consequences which follow shall be withdrawn. general the northern nations; and the same may be said of the love of knowledge, which is the special characteristic of our Yes, he said, that will be the best way. part of the world, or of the love of money, which may, with Well, I said, would you not allow that assent and dissent, equal truth, be attributed to the Phoenicians and Egyptians. desire and aversion, attraction and repulsion, are all of them opposites, whether they are regarded as active or passive (for Exactly so, he said. that makes no difference in the fact of their opposition)? There is no difficulty in understanding this. Yes, he said, they are opposites. None whatever. Well, I said, and hunger and thirst, and the desires in gen- But the question is not quite so easy when we proceed to eral, and again willing and wishing, Ð all these you would re- ask whether these principles are three or one; whether, that is fer to the classes already mentioned. You would say Ð would to say, we learn with one part of our nature, are angry with you not? Ð that the soul of him who desires is seeking after the another, and with a third part desire the satisfaction of our object of his desires; or that he is drawing to himself the thing natural appetites; or whether the whole soul comes into play which he wishes to possess: or again, when a person wants in each sort of action Ð to determine that is the difficulty. anything to be given him, his mind, longing for the realisation Yes, he said; there lies the difficulty. of his desires, intimates his wish to have it by a nod of assent, Then let us now try and determine whether they are the as if he had been asked a question? same or different. Very true. How can we? he asked. And what would you say of unwillingness and dislike and I replied as follows: The same thing clearly cannot act or be the absence of desire; should not these be referred to the op- acted upon in the same part or in relation to the same thing at posite class of repulsion and rejection? the same time, in contrary ways; and therefore whenever this Certainly. contradiction occurs in things apparently the same, we know Admitting this to be true of desire generally, let us suppose that they are really not the same, but different. a particular class of desires, and out of these we will select Good. hunger and thirst, as they are termed, which are the most ob- For example, I said, can the same thing be at rest and in vious of them? motion at the same time in the same part? Let us take that class, he said. Impossible. The object of one is food, and of the other drink? Still, I said, let us have a more precise statement of terms, Yes. lest we should hereafter fall out by the way. Imagine the case And here comes the point: is not thirst the desire which the of a man who is standing and also moving his hands and his soul has of drink, and of drink only; not of drink qualified by head, and suppose a person to say that one and the same per- anything else; for example, warm or cold, or much or little, son is in motion and at rest at the same moment Ð to such a or, in a word, drink of any particular sort: but if the thirst be 82 accompanied by heat, then the desire is of cold drink; or, if I quite understand, and I think as you do. accompanied by cold, then of warm drink; or, if the thirst be Would you not say that thirst is one of these essentially rel- excessive, then the drink which is desired will be excessive; ative terms, having clearly a relation Ð or, if not great, the quantity of drink will also be small: but Yes, thirst is relative to drink. thirst pure and simple will desire drink pure and simple, which And a certain kind of thirst is relative to a certain kind of is the natural satisfaction of thirst, as food is of hunger? drink; but thirst taken alone is neither of much nor little, nor Yes, he said; the simple desire is, as you say, in every case of good nor bad, nor of any particular kind of drink, but of of the simple object, and the qualified desire of the qualified drink only? object. Certainly. But here a confusion may arise; and I should wish to guard Then the soul of the thirsty one, in so far as he is thirsty, against an opponent starting up and saying that no man desires desires only drink; for this he yearns and tries to obtain it? drink only, but good drink, or food only, but good food; for That is plain. good is the universal object of desire, and thirst being a desire, And if you suppose something which pulls a thirsty soul will necessarily be thirst after good drink; and the same is true away from drink, that must be different from the thirsty prin- of every other desire. ciple which draws him like a beast to drink; for, as we were Yes, he replied, the opponent might have something to say. saying, the same thing cannot at the same time with the same Nevertheless I should still maintain, that of relatives some part of itself act in contrary ways about the same. have a quality attached to either term of the relation; others Impossible. are simple and have their correlatives simple. No more than you can say that the hands of the archer push I do not know what you mean. and pull the bow at the same time, but what you say is that one Well, you know of course that the greater is relative to the hand pushes and the other pulls. less? Exactly so, he replied. Certainly. And might a man be thirsty, and yet unwilling to drink? And the much greater to the much less? Yes, he said, it constantly happens. Yes. And in such a case what is one to say? Would you not And the sometime greater to the sometime less, and the say that there was something in the soul bidding a man to greater that is to be to the less that is to be? drink, and something else forbidding him, which is other and Certainly, he said. stronger than the principle which bids him? And so of more and less, and of other correlative terms, I should say so. such as the double and the half, or again, the heavier and the And the forbidding principle is derived from reason, and lighter, the swifter and the slower; and of hot and cold, and of that which bids and attracts proceeds from passion and dis- any other relatives; Ð is not this true of all of them? ease? Yes. Clearly. And does not the same principle hold in the sciences? The Then we may fairly assume that they are two, and that they object of science is knowledge (assuming that to be the true differ from one another; the one with which a man reasons, definition), but the object of a particular science is a particular we may call the rational principle of the soul, the other, with kind of knowledge; I mean, for example, that the science of which he loves and hungers and thirsts and feels the flutterings house-building is a kind of knowledge which is defined and of any other desire, may be termed the irrational or appetitive, distinguished from other kinds and is therefore termed archi- the ally of sundry pleasures and satisfactions? tecture. Yes, he said, we may fairly assume them to be different. Certainly. Then let us finally determine that there are two principles Because it has a particular quality which no other has? existing in the soul. And what of passion, or spirit? Is it a Yes. third, or akin to one of the preceding? And it has this particular quality because it has an object of I should be inclined to say Ð akin to desire. a particular kind; and this is true of the other arts and sciences? Well, I said, there is a story which I remember to have Yes. heard, and in which I put faith. The story is, that Leontius, Now, then, if I have made myself clear, you will under- the son of Aglaion, coming up one day from the Piraeus, un- stand my original meaning in what I said about relatives. My der the north wall on the outside, observed some dead bodies meaning was, that if one term of a relation is taken alone, the lying on the ground at the place of execution. He felt a desire other is taken alone; if one term is qualified, the other is also to see them, and also a dread and abhorrence of them; for a qualified. I do not mean to say that relatives may not be dis- time he struggled and covered his eyes, but at length the de- parate, or that the science of health is healthy, or of disease sire got the better of him; and forcing them open, he ran up to necessarily diseased, or that the sciences of good and evil are the dead bodies, saying, Look, ye wretches, take your fill of therefore good and evil; but only that, when the term science the fair sight. is no longer used absolutely, but has a qualified object which I have heard the story myself, he said. in this case is the nature of health and disease, it becomes de- The moral of the tale is, that anger at times goes to war with fined, and is hence called not merely science, but the science desire, as though they were two distinct things. of medicine. Yes; that is the meaning, he said. 83

And are there not many other cases in which we observe Very true, he said. that when a man’s desires violently prevail over his reason, he reviles himself, and is angry at the violence within him, and that in this struggle, which is like the struggle of factions 3.2.9. The Virtues in the Individual in a State, his spirit is on the side of his reason; Ð but for the passionate or spirited element to take part with the de- And so, after much tossing, we have reached land, and are sires when reason decides that she should not be opposed, is fairly agreed that the same principles which exist in the State a sort of thing which, I believe, you never observed occurring exist also in the individual, and that they are three in number. in yourself, nor, as I should imagine, in any one else? Exactly. Certainly not. Must we not then infer that the individual is wise in the Suppose that a man thinks he has done a wrong to another, same way, and in virtue of the same quality which makes the the nobler he is the less able is he to feel indignant at any State wise? suffering, such as hunger, or cold, or any other pain which the Certainly. injured person may inflict upon him Ð these he deems to be Also that the same quality which constitutes courage in the just, and, as I say, his anger refuses to be excited by them. State constitutes courage in the individual, and that both the True, he said. State and the individual bear the same relation to all the other But when he thinks that he is the sufferer of the wrong, then virtues? he boils and chafes, and is on the side of what he believes to Assuredly. be justice; and because he suffers hunger or cold or other pain And the individual will be acknowledged by us to be just in he is only the more determined to persevere and conquer. His the same way in which the State is just? noble spirit will not be quelled until he either slays or is slain; That follows, of course. or until he hears the voice of the shepherd, that is, reason, We cannot but remember that the justice of the State con- bidding his dog bark no more. sisted in each of the three classes doing the work of its own The illustration is perfect, he replied; and in our State, as class? we were saying, the auxiliaries were to be dogs, and to hear We are not very likely to have forgotten, he said. the voice of the rulers, who are their shepherds. We must recollect that the individual in whom the several I perceive, I said, that you quite understand me; there is, qualities of his nature do their own work will be just, and will however, a further point which I wish you to consider. do his own work? What point? Yes, he said, we must remember that too. You remember that passion or spirit appeared at first sight to And ought not the rational principle, which is wise, and be a kind of desire, but now we should say quite the contrary; has the care of the whole soul, to rule, and the passionate or for in the conflict of the soul spirit is arrayed on the side of the spirited principle to be the subject and ally? rational principle. Certainly. Most assuredly. And, as we were saying, the united influence of music and But a further question arises: Is passion different from rea- gymnastic will bring them into accord, nerving and sustaining son also, or only a kind of reason; in which latter case, in- the reason with noble words and lessons, and moderating and stead of three principles in the soul, there will only be two, soothing and civilizing the wildness of passion by harmony the rational and the concupiscent; or rather, as the State was and rhythm? composed of three classes, traders, auxiliaries, counsellors, so Quite true, he said. may there not be in the individual soul a third element which And these two, thus nurtured and educated, and having is passion or spirit, and when not corrupted by bad education learned truly to know their own functions, will rule over the is the natural auxiliary of reason? concupiscent, which in each of us is the largest part of the Yes, he said, there must be a third. soul and by nature most insatiable of gain; over this they will Yes, I replied, if passion, which has already been shown keep guard, lest, waxing great and strong with the fulness of to be different from desire, turn out also to be different from bodily pleasures, as they are termed, the concupiscent soul, reason. no longer confined to her own sphere, should attempt to en- But that is easily proved: Ð We may observe even in young slave and rule those who are not her natural-born subjects, and children that they are full of spirit almost as soon as they are overturn the whole life of man? born, whereas some of them never seem to attain to the use Very true, he said. of reason, and most of them late enough. Both together will they not be the best defenders of the Excellent, I said, and you may see passion equally in brute whole soul and the whole body against attacks from without; animals, which is a further proof of the truth of what you are the one counselling, and the other fighting under his leader, saying. And we may once more appeal to the words of Homer, and courageously executing his commands and counsels? which have been already quoted by us, “He smote his breast, True. and thus rebuked his soul”; for in this verse Homer has clearly And he is to be deemed courageous whose spirit retains in supposed the power which reasons about the better and worse pleasure and in pain the commands of reason about what he to be different from the unreasoning anger which is rebuked ought or ought not to fear? by it. Right, he replied. 84

And him we call wise who has in him that little part which to interfere with one another, or any of them to do the work rules, and which proclaims these commands; that part too be- of others, Ð he sets in order his own inner life, and is his own ing supposed to have a knowledge of what is for the interest master and his own law, and at peace with himself; and when of each of the three parts and of the whole? he has bound together the three principles within him, which Assuredly. may be compared to the higher, lower, and middle notes of And would you not say that he is temperate who has these the scale, and the intermediate intervals Ð when he has bound same elements in friendly harmony, in whom the one ruling all these together, and is no longer many, but has become one principle of reason, and the two subject ones of spirit and de- entirely temperate and perfectly adjusted nature, then he pro- sire are equally agreed that reason ought to rule, and do not ceeds to act, if he has to act, whether in a matter of property, rebel? or in the treatment of the body, or in some affair of politics or Certainly, he said, that is the true account of temperance private business; always thinking and calling that which pre- whether in the State or individual. serves and co-operates with this harmonious condition, just And surely, I said, we have explained again and again how and good action, and the knowledge which presides over it, and by virtue of what quality a man will be just. wisdom, and that which at any time impairs this condition, he That is very certain. will call unjust action, and the opinion which presides over it And is justice dimmer in the individual, and is her form ignorance. different, or is she the same which we found her to be in the You have said the exact truth, Socrates. State? Very good; and if we were to affirm that we had discovered There is no difference in my opinion, he said. the just man and the just State, and the nature of justice in Because, if any doubt is still lingering in our minds, a few each of them, we should not be telling a falsehood? commonplace instances will satisfy us of the truth of what I Most certainly not. am saying. May we say so, then? What sort of instances do you mean? Let us say so. If the case is put to us, must we not admit that the just State, And now, I said, injustice has to be considered. or the man who is trained in the principles of such a State, will Clearly. be less likely than the unjust to make away with a deposit of Must not injustice be a strife which arises among the three gold or silver? Would any one deny this? principles Ð a meddlesomeness, and interference, and rising No one, he replied. up of a part of the soul against the whole, an assertion of un- Will the just man or citizen ever be guilty of sacrilege or lawful authority, which is made by a rebellious subject against theft, or treachery either to his friends or to his country? a true prince, of whom he is the natural vassal, Ð what is all Never. this confusion and delusion but injustice, and intemperance Neither will he ever break faith where there have been oaths and cowardice and ignorance, and every form of vice? or agreements? Exactly so. Impossible. And if the nature of justice and injustice be known, then No one will be less likely to commit adultery, or to dishon- the meaning of acting unjustly and being unjust, or, again, of our his father and mother, or to fail in his religious duties? acting justly, will also be perfectly clear? No one. What do you mean? he said. And the reason is that each part of him is doing its own Why, I said, they are like disease and health; being in the business, whether in ruling or being ruled? soul just what disease and health are in the body. Exactly so. How so? he said. Are you satisfied then that the quality which makes such Why, I said, that which is healthy causes health, and that men and such states is justice, or do you hope to discover some which is unhealthy causes disease. other? Yes. Not I, indeed. And just actions cause justice, and unjust actions cause Then our dream has been realized; and the suspicion which injustice? we entertained at the beginning of our work of construction, That is certain. that some divine power must have conducted us to a primary And the creation of health is the institution of a natural or- form of justice, has now been verified? der and government of one by another in the parts of the body; Yes, certainly. and the creation of disease is the production of a state of things And the division of labour which required the carpenter and at variance with this natural order? the shoemaker and the rest of the citizens to be doing each his True. own business, and not another’s, was a shadow of justice, and And is not the creation of justice the institution of a natural for that reason it was of use? order and government of one by another in the parts of the Clearly. soul, and the creation of injustice the production of a state of But in reality justice was such as we were describing, being things at variance with the natural order? concerned however, not with the outward man, but with the Exactly so, he said. inward, which is the true self and concernment of man: for Then virtue is the health and beauty and well-being of the the just man does not permit the several elements within him soul, and vice the disease and weakness and deformity of the 85 same? 3.3. The Position of Women and the Usages of War True. And do not good practices lead to virtue, and evil practices 3.3.1. The Equality of Women to vice? I was proceeding to tell the order in which the four Assuredly. evil forms appeared to me to succeed one another, when Still our old question of the comparative advantage of Polemarchus, who was sitting a little way off, just beyond justice and injustice has not been answered: Which is the Adeimantus, began to whisper to him: stretching forth his more profitable, to be just and act justly and practice virtue, hand, he took hold of the upper part of his coat by the shoul- whether seen or unseen of gods and men, or to be unjust and der, and drew him towards him, leaning forward himself so as act unjustly, if only unpunished and unreformed? to be quite close and saying something in his ear, of which I In my judgment, Socrates, the question has now become only caught the words, ’Shall we let him off, or what shall we ridiculous. We know that, when the bodily constitution is do? gone, life is no longer endurable, though pampered with all Certainly not, said Adeimantus, raising his voice. kinds of meats and drinks, and having all wealth and all Who is it, I said, whom you are refusing to let off? power; and shall we be told that when the very essence of You, he said. the vital principle is undermined and corrupted, life is still I repeated, Why am I especially not to be let off? worth having to a man, if only he be allowed to do whatever Why, he said, we think that you are lazy, and mean to cheat he likes with the single exception that he is not to acquire jus- us out of a whole chapter which is a very important part of the tice and virtue, or to escape from injustice and vice; assuming story; and you fancy that we shall not notice your airy way them both to be such as we have described? of proceeding; as if it were self-evident to everybody, that in Yes, I said, the question is, as you say, ridiculous. the matter of women and children “friends have all things in Still, as we are near the spot at which we may see the truth common.” in the clearest manner with our own eyes, let us not faint by And was I not right, Adeimantus? the way. Yes, he said; but what is right in this particular case, like ev- Certainly not, he replied. erything else, requires to be explained; for community may be Come up hither, I said, and behold the various forms of of many kinds. Please, therefore, to say what sort of commu- vice, those of them, I mean, which are worth looking at. nity you mean. We have been long expecting that you would I am following you, he replied: proceed. tell us something about the family life of your citizens Ð how they will bring children into the world, and rear them when I said, The argument seems to have reached a height from they have arrived, and, in general, what is the nature of this which, as from some tower of speculation, a man may look community of women and children Ð for we are of opinion down and see that virtue is one, but that the forms of vice are that the right or wrong management of such matters will have innumerable; there being four special ones which are deserv- a great and paramount influence on the State for good or for ing of note. evil. And now, since the question is still undetermined, and What do you mean? he said. you are taking in hand another State, we have resolved, as I mean, I replied, that there appear to be as many forms of you heard, not to let you go until you give an account of all the soul as there are distinct forms of the State. this. How many? To that resolution, said Glaucon, you may regard me as say- There are five of the State, and five of the soul, I said. ing Agreed. What are they? And without more ado, said Thrasymachus, you may con- The first, I said, is that which we have been describing, and sider us all to be equally agreed. which may be said to have two names, monarchy and aris- I said, You know not what you are doing in thus assailing tocracy, accordingly as rule is exercised by one distinguished me: What an argument are you raising about the State! Just as man or by many. I thought that I had finished, and was only too glad that I had laid this question to sleep, and was reflecting how fortunate True, he replied. I was in your acceptance of what I then said, you ask me to But I regard the two names as describing one form only; for begin again at the very foundation, ignorant of what a hornet’s whether the government is in the hands of one or many, if the nest of words you are stirring. Now I foresaw this gathering governors have been trained in the manner which we have sup- trouble, and avoided it. posed, the fundamental laws of the State will be maintained. For what purpose do you conceive that we have come here, That is true, he replied. said Thrasymachus, Ð to look for gold, or to hear discourse? Such is the good and true City or State, and the good and Yes, but discourse should have a limit. true man is of the same pattern; and if this is right every other Yes, Socrates, said Glaucon, and the whole of life is the is wrong; and the evil is one which affects not only the order- only limit which wise men assign to the hearing of such dis- ing of the State, but also the regulation of the individual soul, courses. But never mind about us; take heart yourself and and is exhibited in four forms. answer the question in your own way: What sort of commu- What are they? he said. nity of women and children is this which is to prevail among 86 our guardians? and how shall we manage the period between Are dogs divided into hes and shes, or do they both share birth and education, which seems to require the greatest care? equally in hunting and in keeping watch and in the other duties Tell us how these things will be. of dogs? or do we entrust to the males the entire and exclusive Yes, my simple friend, but the answer is the reverse of easy; care of the flocks, while we leave the females at home, under many more doubts arise about this than about our previous the idea that the bearing and suckling their puppies is labour conclusions. For the practicability of what is said may be enough for them? doubted; and looked at in another point of view, whether the No, he said, they share alike; the only difference between scheme, if ever so practicable, would be for the best, is also them is that the males are stronger and the females weaker. doubtful. Hence I feel a reluctance to approach the subject, But can you use different animals for the same purpose, lest our aspiration, my dear friend, should turn out to be a unless they are bred and fed in the same way? dream only. You cannot. Fear not, he replied, for your audience will not be hard upon Then, if women are to have the same duties as men, they you; they are not sceptical or hostile. must have the same nurture and education? I said: My good friend, I suppose that you mean to encour- Yes. age me by these words. The education which was assigned to the men was music Yes, he said. and gymnastic. Then let me tell you that you are doing just the reverse; the Yes. encouragement which you offer would have been all very well Then women must be taught music and gymnastic and also had I myself believed that I knew what I was talking about: the art of war, which they must practice like the men? to declare the truth about matters of high interest which a man That is the inference, I suppose. honours and loves among wise men who love him need oc- I should rather expect, I said, that several of our proposals, casion no fear or faltering in his mind; but to carry on an if they are carried out, being unusual, may appear ridiculous. argument when you are yourself only a hesitating enquirer, No doubt of it. which is my condition, is a dangerous and slippery thing; and Yes, and the most ridiculous thing of all will be the sight the danger is not that I shall be laughed at (of which the fear of women naked in the palaestra, exercising with the men, would be childish), but that I shall miss the truth where I have especially when they are no longer young; they certainly will most need to be sure of my footing, and drag my friends af- not be a vision of beauty, any more than the enthusiastic old ter me in my fall. And I pray Nemesis not to visit upon me men who in spite of wrinkles and ugliness continue to frequent the words which I am going to utter. For I do indeed believe the gymnasia. that to be an involuntary homicide is a less crime than to be Yes, indeed, he said: according to present notions the pro- a deceiver about beauty or goodness or justice in the matter posal would be thought ridiculous. of laws. And that is a risk which I would rather run among But then, I said, as we have determined to speak our minds, enemies than among friends, and therefore you do well to we must not fear the jests of the wits which will be directed encourage me. against this sort of innovation; how they will talk of women’s Glaucon laughed and said: Well then, Socrates, in case you attainments both in music and gymnastic, and above all about and your argument do us any serious injury you shall be ac- their wearing armour and riding upon horseback! quitted beforehand of the homicide and shall not be held to be Very true, he replied. a deceiver; take courage then and speak. Yet having begun we must go forward to the rough places of Well, I said, the law says that when a man is acquitted he is the law; at the same time begging of these gentlemen for once free from guilt, and what holds at law may hold in argument. in their life to be serious. Not long ago, as we shall remind Then why should you mind? them, the Hellenes were of the opinion, which is still generally Well, I replied, I suppose that I must retrace my steps and received among the barbarians, that the sight of a naked man say what I perhaps ought to have said before in the proper was ridiculous and improper; and when first the Cretans and place. The part of the men has been played out, and now then the Lacedaemonians introduced the custom, the wits of properly enough comes the turn of the women. Of them I will that day might equally have ridiculed the innovation. proceed to speak, and the more readily since I am invited by No doubt. you. But when experience showed that to let all things be uncov- For men born and educated like our citizens, the only way, ered was far better than to cover them up, and the ludicrous in my opinion, of arriving at a right conclusion about the pos- effect to the outward eye vanished before the better principle session and use of women and children is to follow the path on which reason asserted, then the man was perceived to be a fool which we originally started, when we said that the men were who directs the shafts of his ridicule at any other sight but that to be the guardians and watchdogs of the herd. of folly and vice, or seriously inclines to weigh the beautiful True. by any other standard but that of the good. Let us further suppose the birth and education of our Very true, he replied. women to be subject to similar or nearly similar regulations; First, then, whether the question is to be put in jest or in then we shall see whether the result accords with our design. earnest, let us come to an understanding about the nature of What do you mean? woman: Is she capable of sharing either wholly or partially What I mean may be put into the form of a question, I said: in the actions of men, or not at all? And is the art of war one 87 of those arts in which she can or can not share? That will be A great deal; for there is certainly a danger of our getting the best way of commencing the enquiry, and will probably unintentionally into a verbal opposition. lead to the fairest conclusion. In what way? That will be much the best way. Why, we valiantly and pugnaciously insist upon the verbal Shall we take the other side first and begin by arguing truth, that different natures ought to have different pursuits, against ourselves; in this manner the adversary’s position will but we never considered at all what was the meaning of same- not be undefended. ness or difference of nature, or why we distinguished them Why not? he said. when we assigned different pursuits to different natures and Then let us put a speech into the mouths of our opponents. the same to the same natures. They will say: “Socrates and Glaucon, no adversary need con- Why, no, he said, that was never considered by us. vict you, for you yourselves, at the first foundation of the I said: Suppose that by way of illustration we were to ask State, admitted the principle that everybody was to do the one the question whether there is not an opposition in nature be- work suited to his own nature.” And certainly, if I am not mis- tween bald men and hairy men; and if this is admitted by us, taken, such an admission was made by us. “And do not the then, if bald men are cobblers, we should forbid the hairy men natures of men and women differ very much indeed?” And to be cobblers, and conversely? we shall reply: Of course they do. Then we shall be asked, That would be a jest, he said. “Whether the tasks assigned to men and to women should not Yes, I said, a jest; and why? because we never meant when be different, and such as are agreeable to their different na- we constructed the State, that the opposition of natures should tures?” Certainly they should. “But if so, have you not fallen extend to every difference, but only to those differences which into a serious inconsistency in saying that men and women, affected the pursuit in which the individual is engaged; we whose natures are so entirely different, ought to perform the should have argued, for example, that a physician and one who same actions?” Ð What defence will you make for us, my good is in mind a physician may be said to have the same nature. Sir, against any one who offers these objections? True. That is not an easy question to answer when asked sud- Whereas the physician and the carpenter have different na- denly; and I shall and I do beg of you to draw out the case on tures? our side. These are the objections, Glaucon, and there are many oth- Certainly. ers of a like kind, which I foresaw long ago; they made me And if, I said, the male and female sex appear to differ in afraid and reluctant to take in hand any law about the posses- their fitness for any art or pursuit, we should say that such sion and nurture of women and children. pursuit or art ought to be assigned to one or the other of By Zeus, he said, the problem to be solved is anything but them; but if the difference consists only in women bearing easy. and men begetting children, this does not amount to a proof Why yes, I said, but the fact is that when a man is out of that a woman differs from a man in respect of the sort of ed- his depth, whether he has fallen into a little swimming bath or ucation she should receive; and we shall therefore continue to into mid-ocean, he has to swim all the same. maintain that our guardians and their wives ought to have the Very true. same pursuits. And must not we swim and try to reach the shore: we will Very true, he said. hope that Arion’s dolphin or some other miraculous help may Next, we shall ask our opponent how, in reference to any of save us? the pursuits or arts of civic life, the nature of a woman differs I suppose so, he said. from that of a man? Well then, let us see if any way of escape can be found. We That will be quite fair. acknowledged Ð did we not? that different natures ought to And perhaps he, like yourself, will reply that to give a suffi- have different pursuits, and that men’s and women’s natures cient answer on the instant is not easy; but after a little reflec- are different. And now what are we saying? Ð that different tion there is no difficulty. natures ought to have the same pursuits, Ð this is the inconsis- Yes, perhaps. tency which is charged upon us. Suppose then that we invite him to accompany us in the Precisely. argument, and then we may hope to show him that there is Verily, Glaucon, I said, glorious is the power of the art of nothing peculiar in the constitution of women which would contradiction! affect them in the administration of the State. Why do you say so? By all means. Because I think that many a man falls into the practice Let us say to him: Come now, and we will ask you a ques- against his will. When he thinks that he is reasoning he is tion: Ð when you spoke of a nature gifted or not gifted in any really disputing, just because he cannot define and divide, and respect, did you mean to say that one man will acquire a thing so know that of which he is speaking; and he will pursue a easily, another with difficulty; a little learning will lead the one merely verbal opposition in the spirit of contention and not of to discover a great deal; whereas the other, after much study fair discussion. and application, no sooner learns than he forgets; or again, did Yes, he replied, such is very often the case; but what has you mean, that the one has a body which is a good servant to that to do with us and our argument? his mind, while the body of the other is a hindrance to him? 88

Ð would not these be the sort of differences which distinguish Yes. the man gifted by nature from the one who is ungifted? And the possibility has been acknowledged? No one will deny that. Yes. And can you mention any pursuit of mankind in which the The very great benefit has next to be established? male sex has not all these gifts and qualities in a higher degree Quite so. than the female? Need I waste time in speaking of the art of You will admit that the same education which makes a man weaving, and the management of pancakes and preserves, in a good guardian will make a woman a good guardian; for their which womankind does really appear to be great, and in which original nature is the same? for her to be beaten by a man is of all things the most absurd? Yes. You are quite right, he replied, in maintaining the general I should like to ask you a question. inferiority of the female sex: although many women are in What is it? many things superior to many men, yet on the whole what Would you say that all men are equal in excellence, or is you say is true. one man better than another? And if so, my friend, I said, there is no special faculty of The latter. administration in a state which a woman has because she is a And in the commonwealth which we were founding do woman, or which a man has by virtue of his sex, but the gifts you conceive the guardians who have been brought up on our of nature are alike diffused in both; all the pursuits of men are model system to be more perfect men, or the cobblers whose the pursuits of women also, but in all of them a woman is education has been cobbling? inferior to a man. What a ridiculous question! Very true. You have answered me, I replied: Well, and may we not Then are we to impose all our enactments on men and none further say that our guardians are the best of our citizens? of them on women? By far the best. That will never do. And will not their wives be the best women? One woman has a gift of healing, another not; one is a mu- Yes, by far the best. sician, and another has no music in her nature? And can there be anything better for the interests of the Very true. State than that the men and women of a State should be as And one woman has a turn for gymnastic and military ex- good as possible? ercises, and another is unwarlike and hates gymnastics? There can be nothing better. Certainly. And this is what the arts of music and gymnastic, when And one woman is a philosopher, and another is an enemy present in such manner as we have described, will accom- of philosophy; one has spirit, and another is without spirit? plish? That is also true. Certainly. Then one woman will have the temper of a guardian, and Then we have made an enactment not only possible but in another not. Was not the selection of the male guardians de- the highest degree beneficial to the State? termined by differences of this sort? True. Yes. Then let the wives of our guardians strip, for their virtue Men and women alike possess the qualities which make will be their robe, and let them share in the toils of war and the a guardian; they differ only in their comparative strength or defence of their country; only in the distribution of labours the weakness. lighter are to be assigned to the women, who are the weaker Obviously. natures, but in other respects their duties are to be the same. And those women who have such qualities are to be se- And as for the man who laughs at naked women exercising lected as the companions and colleagues of men who have their bodies from the best of motives, in his laughter he is similar qualities and whom they resemble in capacity and in plucking “A fruit of unripe wisdom,” and he himself is igno- character? rant of what he is laughing at, or what he is about; Ð for that Very true. is, and ever will be, the best of sayings, That the useful is the And ought not the same natures to have the same pursuits? noble and the hurtful is the base. They ought. Very true. Then, as we were saying before, there is nothing unnat- ural in assigning music and gymnastic to the wives of the guardians Ð to that point we come round again. 3.3.2. Abolition of the Family for the Guardians Certainly not. The law which we then enacted was agreeable to nature, Here, then, is one difficulty in our law about women, which and therefore not an impossibility or mere aspiration; and the we may say that we have now escaped; the wave has not contrary practice, which prevails at present, is in reality a vio- swallowed us up alive for enacting that the guardians of either lation of nature. sex should have all their pursuits in common; to the utility and That appears to be true. also to the possibility of this arrangement the consistency of We had to consider, first, whether our proposals were pos- the argument with itself bears witness. sible, and secondly whether they were the most beneficial? Yes, that was a mighty wave which you have escaped. 89

Yes, I said, but a greater is coming; you will not think much other Ð necessity is not too strong a word, I think? of this when you see the next. Yes, he said; Ð necessity, not geometrical, but another sort Go on; let me see. of necessity which lovers know, and which is far more con- The law, I said, which is the sequel of this and of all that vincing and constraining to the mass of mankind. has preceded, is to the following effect, Ð “that the wives of True, I said; and this, Glaucon, like all the rest, must pro- our guardians are to be common, and their children are to ceed after an orderly fashion; in a city of the blessed, licen- be common, and no parent is to know his own child, nor any tiousness is an unholy thing which the rulers will forbid. child his parent.” Yes, he said, and it ought not to be permitted. Yes, he said, that is a much greater wave than the other; and Then clearly the next thing will be to make matrimony sa- the possibility as well as the utility of such a law are far more cred in the highest degree, and what is most beneficial will be questionable. deemed sacred? I do not think, I said, that there can be any dispute about the Exactly. very great utility of having wives and children in common; And how can marriages be made most beneficial? Ð that the possibility is quite another matter, and will be very much is a question which I put to you, because I see in your house disputed. dogs for hunting, and of the nobler sort of birds not a few. I think that a good many doubts may be raised about both. Now, I beseech you, do tell me, have you ever attended to You imply that the two questions must be combined, I their pairing and breeding? replied. Now I meant that you should admit the utility; and In what particulars? in this way, as I thought, I should escape from one of them, Why, in the first place, although they are all of a good sort, and then there would remain only the possibility. are not some better than others? But that little attempt is detected, and therefore you will True. please to give a defence of both. And do you breed from them all indifferently, or do you Well, I said, I submit to my fate. Yet grant me a little favour: take care to breed from the best only? let me feast my mind with the dream as day dreamers are in From the best. the habit of feasting themselves when they are walking alone; And do you take the oldest or the youngest, or only those for before they have discovered any means of effecting their of ripe age? wishes Ð that is a matter which never troubles them Ð they I choose only those of ripe age. would rather not tire themselves by thinking about possibili- And if care was not taken in the breeding, your dogs and ties; but assuming that what they desire is already granted to birds would greatly deteriorate? them, they proceed with their plan, and delight in detailing Certainly. what they mean to do when their wish has come true Ð that is And the same of horses and animals in general? a way which they have of not doing much good to a capacity Undoubtedly. which was never good for much. Now I myself am begin- Good heavens! my dear friend, I said, what consummate ning to lose heart, and I should like, with your permission, skill will our rulers need if the same principle holds of the to pass over the question of possibility at present. Assuming human species! therefore the possibility of the proposal, I shall now proceed Certainly, the same principle holds; but why does this in- to enquire how the rulers will carry out these arrangements, volve any particular skill? and I shall demonstrate that our plan, if executed, will be of Because, I said, our rulers will often have to practice upon the greatest benefit to the State and to the guardians. First of the body corporate with medicines. Now you know that when all, then, if you have no objection, I will endeavour with your patients do not require medicines, but have only to be put un- help to consider the advantages of the measure; and hereafter der a regimen, the inferior sort of practitioner is deemed to the question of possibility. be good enough; but when medicine has to be given, then the I have no objection; proceed. doctor should be more of a man. First, I think that if our rulers and their auxiliaries are to be That is quite true, he said; but to what are you alluding? worthy of the name which they bear, there must be willingness I mean, I replied, that our rulers will find a considerable to obey in the one and the power of command in the other; the dose of falsehood and deceit necessary for the good of their guardians must themselves obey the laws, and they must also subjects: we were saying that the use of all these things re- imitate the spirit of them in any details which are entrusted to garded as medicines might be of advantage. their care. And we were very right. That is right, he said. And this lawful use of them seems likely to be often needed You, I said, who are their legislator, having selected the in the regulations of marriages and births. men, will now select the women and give them to them; Ð How so? they must be as far as possible of like natures with them; and Why, I said, the principle has been already laid down that they must live in common houses and meet at common meals, the best of either sex should be united with the best as often, None of them will have anything specially his or her own; and the inferior with the inferior, as seldom as possible; and they will be together, and will be brought up together, and will that they should rear the offspring of the one sort of union, but associate at gymnastic exercises. And so they will be drawn not of the other, if the flock is to be maintained in first-rate by a necessity of their natures to have intercourse with each condition. Now these goings on must be a secret which the 90 rulers only know, or there will be a further danger of our herd, Certainly, he said, both in men and women those years are as the guardians may be termed, breaking out into rebellion. the prime of physical as well as of intellectual vigour. Very true. Any one above or below the prescribed ages who takes part Had we not better appoint certain festivals at which we will in the public hymeneals shall be said to have done an unholy bring together the brides and bridegrooms, and sacrifices will and unrighteous thing; the child of which he is the father, if be offered and suitable hymeneal songs composed by our po- it steals into life, will have been conceived under auspices ets: the number of weddings is a matter which must be left very unlike the sacrifices and prayers, which at each hyme- to the discretion of the rulers, whose aim will be to preserve neal priestesses and priest and the whole city will offer, that the average of population? There are many other things which the new generation may be better and more useful than their they will have to consider, such as the effects of wars and dis- good and useful parents, whereas his child will be the off- eases and any similar agencies, in order as far as this is possi- spring of darkness and strange lust. ble to prevent the State from becoming either too large or too Very true, he replied. small. And the same law will apply to any one of those within Certainly, he replied. the prescribed age who forms a connection with any woman We shall have to invent some ingenious kind of lots which in the prime of life without the sanction of the rulers; for we the less worthy may draw on each occasion of our bringing shall say that he is raising up a bastard to the State, uncertified them together, and then they will accuse their own ill-luck and unconsecrated. and not the rulers. Very true, he replied. To be sure, he said. This applies, however, only to those who are within the And I think that our braver and better youth, besides their specified age: after that we allow them to range at will, ex- other honours and rewards, might have greater facilities of in- cept that a man may not marry his daughter or his daughter’s tercourse with women given them; their bravery will be a rea- daughter, or his mother or his mother’s mother; and women, son, and such fathers ought to have as many sons as possible. on the other hand, are prohibited from marrying their sons or True. fathers, or son’s son or father’s father, and so on in either di- And the proper officers, whether male or female or both, rection. And we grant all this, accompanying the permission for offices are to be held by women as well as by men Ð with strict orders to prevent any embryo which may come into Yes Ð being from seeing the light; and if any force a way to the birth, The proper officers will take the offspring of the good par- the parents must understand that the offspring of such an union ents to the pen or fold, and there they will deposit them with cannot be maintained, and arrange accordingly. certain nurses who dwell in a separate quarter; but the off- That also, he said, is a reasonable proposition. But how will spring of the inferior, or of the better when they chance to they know who are fathers and daughters, and so on? be deformed, will be put away in some mysterious, unknown They will never know. The way will be this: Ð dating from place, as they should be. the day of the hymeneal, the bridegroom who was then mar- Yes, he said, that must be done if the breed of the guardians ried will call all the male children who are born in the seventh is to be kept pure. and tenth month afterwards his sons, and the female children They will provide for their nurture, and will bring the moth- his daughters, and they will call him father, and he will call ers to the fold when they are full of milk, taking the greatest their children his grandchildren, and they will call the elder possible care that no mother recognizes her own child; and generation grandfathers and grandmothers. All who were be- other wet-nurses may be engaged if more are required. Care gotten at the time when their fathers and mothers came to- will also be taken that the process of suckling shall not be gether will be called their brothers and sisters, and these, as protracted too long; and the mothers will have no getting up I was saying, will be forbidden to inter-marry. This, however, at night or other trouble, but will hand over all this sort of is not to be understood as an absolute prohibition of the mar- thing to the nurses and attendants. riage of brothers and sisters; if the lot favours them, and they You suppose the wives of our guardians to have a fine easy receive the sanction of the Pythian oracle, the law will allow time of it when they are having children. them. Why, said I, and so they ought. Let us, however, proceed Quite right, he replied. with our scheme. We were saying that the parents should be Such is the scheme, Glaucon, according to which the in the prime of life? guardians of our State are to have their wives and families in Very true. common. And now you would have the argument show that And what is the prime of life? May it not be defined as a this community is consistent with the rest of our polity, and period of about twenty years in a woman’s life, and thirty in a also that nothing can be better Ð would you not? man’s? Yes, certainly. Which years do you mean to include? Shall we try to find a common basis by asking of ourselves A woman, I said, at twenty years of age may begin to bear what ought to be the chief aim of the legislator in making laws children to the State, and continue to bear them until forty; and in the organization of a State, Ð what is the greatest good, a man may begin at five-and-twenty, when he has passed the and what is the greatest evil, and then consider whether our point at which the pulse of life beats quickest, and continue to previous description has the stamp of the good or of the evil? beget children until he be fifty-five. By all means. 91

Can there be any greater evil than discord and distraction Fellow-rulers. and plurality where unity ought to reign? or any greater good And what in ours? than the bond of unity? Fellow-guardians. There cannot. Did you ever know an example in any other State of a ruler And there is unity where there is community of pleasures who would speak of one of his colleagues as his friend and of and pains Ð where all the citizens are glad or grieved on the another as not being his friend? same occasions of joy and sorrow? Yes, very often. No doubt. And the friend he regards and describes as one in whom he Yes; and where there is no common but only private feeling has an interest, and the other as a stranger in whom he has no a State is disorganized Ð when you have one half of the world interest? triumphing and the other plunged in grief at the same events Exactly. happening to the city or the citizens? But would any of your guardians think or speak of any Certainly. other guardian as a stranger? Such differences commonly originate in a disagreement Certainly he would not; for every one whom they meet will about the use of the terms “mine” and “not mine,” “his” and be regarded by them either as a brother or sister, or father or “not his.” mother, or son or daughter, or as the child or parent of those Exactly so. who are thus connected with him. And is not that the best-ordered State in which the greatest Capital, I said; but let me ask you once more: Shall they number of persons apply the terms “mine” and “not mine” in be a family in name only; or shall they in all their actions be the same way to the same thing? true to the name? For example, in the use of the word “father,” Quite true. would the care of a father be implied and the filial reverence Or that again which most nearly approaches to the condi- and duty and obedience to him which the law commands; and tion of the individual Ð as in the body, when but a finger of is the violator of these duties to be regarded as an impious and one of us is hurt, the whole frame, drawn towards the soul as unrighteous person who is not likely to receive much good a center and forming one kingdom under the ruling power either at the hands of God or of man? Are these to be or not therein, feels the hurt and sympathizes all together with the to be the strains which the children will hear repeated in their part affected, and we say that the man has a pain in his finger; ears by all the citizens about those who are intimated to them and the same expression is used about any other part of the to be their parents and the rest of their kinsfolk? body, which has a sensation of pain at suffering or of pleasure These, he said, and none other; for what can be more ridicu- at the alleviation of suffering. lous than for them to utter the names of family ties with the Very true, he replied; and I agree with you that in the best- lips only and not to act in the spirit of them? ordered State there is the nearest approach to this common Then in our city the language of harmony and concord will feeling which you describe. be more often heard than in any other. As I was describing Then when any one of the citizens experiences any good or before, when any one is well or ill, the universal word will be evil, the whole State will make his case their own, and will “with me it is well” or “it is ill.” either rejoice or sorrow with him? Most true. Yes, he said, that is what will happen in a well-ordered And agreeably to this mode of thinking and speaking, were State. we not saying that they will have their pleasures and pains in It will now be time, I said, for us to return to our State and common? see whether this or some other form is most in accordance Yes, and so they will. with these fundamental principles. And they will have a common interest in the same thing Very good. which they will alike call “my own,” and having this common Our State like every other has rulers and subjects? interest they will have a common feeling of pleasure and pain? True. Yes, far more so than in other States. All of whom will call one another citizens? And the reason of this, over and above the general con- Of course. stitution of the State, will be that the guardians will have a But is there not another name which people give to their community of women and children? rulers in other States? That will be the chief reason. Generally they call them masters, but in democratic States And this unity of feeling we admitted to be the greatest they simply call them rulers. good, as was implied in our own comparison of a well-ordered And in our State what other name besides that of citizens State to the relation of the body and the members, when af- do the people give the rulers? fected by pleasure or pain? They are called saviours and helpers, he replied. That we acknowledged, and very rightly. And what do the rulers call the people? Then the community of wives and children among our citi- Their maintainers and foster-fathers. zens is clearly the source of the greatest good to the State? And what do they call them in other States? Certainly. Slaves. And this agrees with the other principle which we were af- And what do the rulers call one another in other States? firming, Ð that the guardians were not to have houses or lands 92 or any other property; their pay was to be their food, which are mean enough and obvious enough, and not worth speak- they were to receive from the other citizens, and they were to ing of. have no private expenses; for we intended them to preserve Yes, he said, a man has no need of eyes in order to perceive their true character of guardians. that. Right, he replied. And from all these evils they will be delivered, and their Both the community of property and the community of fam- life will be blessed as the life of Olympic victors and yet more ilies, as I am saying, tend to make them more truly guardians; blessed. they will not tear the city in pieces by differing about “mine” and “not mine”; each man dragging any acquisition which he How so? has made into a separate house of his own, where he has a The Olympic victor, I said, is deemed happy in receiving a separate wife and children and private pleasures and pains; part only of the blessedness which is secured to our citizens, but all will be affected as far as may be by the same pleasures who have won a more glorious victory and have a more com- and pains because they are all of one opinion about what is plete maintenance at the public cost. For the victory which near and dear to them, and therefore they all tend towards a they have won is the salvation of the whole State; and the common end. crown with which they and their children are crowned is the And as they have nothing but their persons which they can fulness of all that life needs; they receive rewards from the call their own, suits and complaints will have no existence hands of their country while living, and after death have an among them; they will be delivered from all those quarrels of honourable burial. which money or children or relations are the occasion. Yes, he said, and glorious rewards they are. Of course they will. Neither will trials for assault or insult ever be likely to oc- Do you remember, I said, how in the course of the previ- cur among them. For that equals should defend themselves ous discussion some one who shall be nameless accused us against equals we shall maintain to be honourable and right; of making our guardians unhappy Ð they had nothing and we shall make the protection of the person a matter of neces- might have possessed all things Ð to whom we replied that, sity. if an occasion offered, we might perhaps hereafter consider this question, but that, as at present advised, we would make That is good, he said. our guardians truly guardians, and that we were fashioning the Yes; and there is a further good in the law; viz. that if a man State with a view to the greatest happiness, not of any partic- has a quarrel with another he will satisfy his resentment then ular class, but of the whole? and there, and not proceed to more dangerous lengths. Certainly. Yes, I remember. To the elder shall be assigned the duty of ruling and chastis- And what do you say, now that the life of our protectors ing the younger. is made out to be far better and nobler than that of Olympic Clearly. victors Ð is the life of shoemakers, or any other artisans, or of Nor can there be a doubt that the younger will not strike husbandmen, to be compared with it? or do any other violence to an elder, unless the magistrates Certainly not. command him; nor will he slight him in any way. For there At the same time I ought here to repeat what I have said are two guardians, shame and fear, mighty to prevent him: elsewhere, that if any of our guardians shall try to be happy in shame, which makes men refrain from laying hands on those such a manner that he will cease to be a guardian, and is not who are to them in the relation of parents; fear, that the injured content with this safe and harmonious life, which, in our judg- one will be succoured by the others who are his brothers, sons, ment, is of all lives the best, but infatuated by some youthful fathers. conceit of happiness which gets up into his head shall seek to That is true, he replied. appropriate the whole State to himself, then he will have to Then in every way the laws will help the citizens to keep learn how wisely Hesiod spoke, when he said, “half is more the peace with one another? than the whole.” Yes, there will be no want of peace. If he were to consult me, I should say to him: Stay where And as the guardians will never quarrel among themselves you are, when you have the offer of such a life. there will be no danger of the rest of the city being divided either against them or against one another. You agree then, I said, that men and women are to have a None whatever. common way of life such as we have described Ð common I hardly like even to mention the little meannesses of which education, common children; and they are to watch over the they will be rid, for they are beneath notice: such, for exam- citizens in common whether abiding in the city or going out ple, as the flattery of the rich by the poor, and all the pains to war; they are to keep watch together, and to hunt together and pangs which men experience in bringing up a family, and like dogs; and always and in all things, as far as they are able, in finding money to buy necessaries for their household, bor- women are to share with the men? And in so doing they will rowing and then repudiating, getting how they can, and giving do what is best, and will not violate, but preserve the natural the money into the hands of women and slaves to keep Ð the relation of the sexes. many evils of so many kinds which people suffer in this way I agree with you, he replied. 93

3.3.3. Usages of War Then against such chances the children must be at once fur- nished with wings, in order that in the hour of need they may The enquiry, I said, has yet to be made, whether such a fly away and escape. community will be found possible Ð as among other animals, What do you mean? he said. so also among men Ð and if possible, in what way possible? I mean that we must mount them on horses in their earliest You have anticipated the question which I was about to sug- youth, and when they have learnt to ride, take them on horse- gest. back to see war: the horses must be spirited and warlike, but There is no difficulty, I said, in seeing how war will be the most tractable and yet the swiftest that can be had. In this carried on by them. way they will get an excellent view of what is hereafter to be How? their own business; and if there is danger they have only to Why, of course they will go on expeditions together; and follow their elder leaders and escape. will take with them any of their children who are strong I believe that you are right, he said. enough, that, after the manner of the artisan’s child, they may Next, as to war; what are to be the relations of your soldiers look on at the work which they will have to do when they are to one another and to their enemies? I should be inclined to grown up; and besides looking on they will have to help and propose that the soldier who leaves his rank or throws away be of use in war, and to wait upon their fathers and mothers. his arms, or is guilty of any other act of cowardice, should be Did you never observe in the arts how the potters’ boys look degraded into the rank of a husbandman or artisan. What do on and help, long before they touch the wheel? you think? Yes, I have. By all means, I should say. And shall potters be more careful in educating their children And he who allows himself to be taken prisoner may as well and in giving them the opportunity of seeing and practicing be made a present of to his enemies; he is their lawful prey, their duties than our guardians will be? and let them do what they like with him. The idea is ridiculous, he said. Certainly. There is also the effect on the parents, with whom, as with But the hero who has distinguished himself, what shall be other animals, the presence of their young ones will be the done to him? In the first place, he shall receive honour in greatest incentive to valour. the army from his youthful comrades; every one of them in That is quite true, Socrates; and yet if they are defeated, succession shall crown him. What do you say? which may often happen in war, how great the danger is! the I approve. children will be lost as well as their parents, and the State will And what do you say to his receiving the right hand of fel- never recover. lowship? True, I said; but would you never allow them to run any To that too, I agree. risk? But you will hardly agree to my next proposal. I am far from saying that. What is your proposal? Well, but if they are ever to run a risk should they not do so That he should kiss and be kissed by them. on some occasion when, if they escape disaster, they will be Most certainly, and I should be disposed to go further, and the better for it? say: Let no one whom he has a mind to kiss refuse to be Clearly. kissed by him while the expedition lasts. So that if there be Whether the future soldiers do or do not see war in the days a lover in the army, whether his love be youth or maiden, he of their youth is a very important matter, for the sake of which may be more eager to win the prize of valour. some risk may fairly be incurred. Capital, I said. That the brave man is to have more wives Yes, very important. than others has been already determined: and he is to have This then must be our first step, Ð to make our children first choices in such matters more than others, in order that he spectators of war; but we must also contrive that they shall be may have as many children as possible? secured against danger; then all will be well. Agreed. True. Again, there is another manner in which, according to Their parents may be supposed not to be blind to the risks Homer, brave youths should be honoured; for he tells how of war, but to know, as far as human foresight can, what ex- Ajax, after he had distinguished himself in battle, was re- peditions are safe and what dangerous? warded with long chines, which seems to be a compliment That may be assumed. appropriate to a hero in the flower of his age, being not only a And they will take them on the safe expeditions and be cau- tribute of honour but also a very strengthening thing. tious about the dangerous ones? Most true, he said. True. Then in this, I said, Homer shall be our teacher; and we And they will place them under the command of experi- too, at sacrifices and on the like occasions, will honour the enced veterans who will be their leaders and teachers? brave according to the measure of their valour, whether men Very properly. or women, with hymns and those other distinctions which we Still, the dangers of war cannot be always foreseen; there is were mentioning; also with “seats of precedence, and meats a good deal of chance about them? and full cups”; and in honouring them, we shall be at the same True. time training them. 94

That, he replied, is excellent. Both should be forbidden, in my judgment; I would take Yes, I said; and when a man dies gloriously in war shall we the annual produce and no more. Shall I tell you why? not say, in the first place, that he is of the golden race? Pray do. To be sure. Why, you see, there is a difference in the names “discord” Nay, have we not the authority of Hesiod for affirming that and “war,” and I imagine that there is also a difference in their when they are dead “They are holy angels upon the earth, au- natures; the one is expressive of what is internal and domestic, thors of good, averters of evil, the guardians of speech-gifted the other of what is external and foreign; and the first of the men”? Yes; and we accept his authority. two is termed discord, and only the second, war. We must learn of the god how we are to order the sepulture That is a very proper distinction, he replied. of divine and heroic personages, and what is to be their special And may I not observe with equal propriety that the Hel- distinction and we must do as he bids? lenic race is all united together by ties of blood and friendship, By all means. and alien and strange to the barbarians? And in ages to come we will reverence them and kneel be- Very good, he said. fore their sepulchres as at the graves of heroes. And not only And therefore when Hellenes fight with barbarians and bar- they but any who are deemed pre-eminently good, whether barians with Hellenes, they will be described by us as being they die from age, or in any other way, shall be admitted to at war when they fight, and by nature enemies, and this kind the same honours. of antagonism should be called war; but when Hellenes fight That is very right, he said. with one another we shall say that Hellas is then in a state of Next, how shall our soldiers treat their enemies? What disorder and discord, they being by nature friends; and such about this? enmity is to be called discord. In what respect do you mean? I agree. First of all, in regard to slavery? Do you think it right that Consider then, I said, when that which we have acknowl- Hellenes should enslave Hellenic States, or allow others to edged to be discord occurs, and a city is divided, if both par- enslave them, if they can help? Should not their custom be ties destroy the lands and burn the houses of one another, how to spare them, considering the danger which there is that the wicked does the strife appear! No true lover of his coun- whole race may one day fall under the yoke of the barbarians? try would bring himself to tear in pieces his own nurse and To spare them is infinitely better. mother: There might be reason in the conqueror depriving Then no Hellene should be owned by them as a slave; that the conquered of their harvest, but still they would have the is a rule which they will observe and advise the other Hellenes idea of peace in their hearts and would not mean to go on to observe. fighting for ever. Certainly, he said; they will in this way be united against Yes, he said, that is a better temper than the other. the barbarians and will keep their hands off one another. And will not the city, which you are founding, be an Hel- Next as to the slain; ought the conquerors, I said, to take lenic city? anything but their armour? Does not the practice of despoiling It ought to be, he replied. an enemy afford an excuse for not facing the battle? Cowards Then will not the citizens be good and civilized? skulk about the dead, pretending that they are fulfilling a duty, Yes, very civilized. and many an army before now has been lost from this love of And will they not be lovers of Hellas, and think of Hellas plunder. as their own land, and share in the common temples? Very true. Most certainly. And is there not illiberality and avarice in robbing a corpse, And any difference which arises among them will be re- and also a degree of meanness and womanishness in making garded by them as discord only Ð a quarrel among friends, an enemy of the dead body when the real enemy has flown which is not to be called a war? away and left only his fighting gear behind him, Ð is not this Certainly not. rather like a dog who cannot get at his assailant, quarrelling Then they will quarrel as those who intend some day to be with the stones which strike him instead? reconciled? Very like a dog, he said. Certainly. Then we must abstain from spoiling the dead or hindering They will use friendly correction, but will not enslave or their burial? destroy their opponents; they will be correctors, not enemies? Yes, he replied, we most certainly must. Just so. Neither shall we offer up arms at the temples of the gods, And as they are Hellenes themselves they will not devas- least of all the arms of Hellenes, if we care to maintain good tate Hellas, nor will they burn houses, not even suppose that feeling with other Hellenes; and, indeed, we have reason to the whole population of a city Ð men, women, and children fear that the offering of spoils taken from kinsmen may be a Ð are equally their enemies, for they know that the guilt of pollution unless commanded by the god himself? war is always confined to a few persons and that the many Very true. are their friends. And for all these reasons they will be un- Again, as to the devastation of Hellenic territory or the willing to waste their lands and raze their houses; their enmity burning of houses, what is to be the practice? to them will only last until the many innocent sufferers have May I have the pleasure, he said, of hearing your opinion? compelled the guilty few to give satisfaction? 95

I agree, he said, that our citizens should thus deal with their unhappiness according to the standard which they exhibited Hellenic enemies; and with barbarians as the Hellenes now and the degree in which we resembled them, but not with any deal with one another. view of showing that they could exist in fact. Then let us enact this law also for our guardians: Ð that True, he said. they are neither to devastate the lands of Hellenes nor to burn Would a painter be any the worse because, after having de- their houses. lineated with consummate art an ideal of a perfectly beautiful Agreed; and we may agree also in thinking that these, all man, he was unable to show that any such man could ever our previous enactments, are very good. have existed? He would be none the worse. Well, and were we not creating an ideal of a perfect State? 3.4. The Philosopher King To be sure. And is our theory a worse theory because we are unable 3.4.1. The Paradox: Philosophers Must Be Kings to prove the possibility of a city being ordered in the manner described? But still I must say, Socrates, that if you are allowed to go Surely not, he replied. on in this way you will entirely forget the other question which That is the truth, I said. But if, at your request, I am to at the commencement of this discussion you thrust aside: Ð Is try and show how and under what conditions the possibility such an order of things possible, and how, if at all? For I am is highest, I must ask you, having this in view, to repeat your quite ready to acknowledge that the plan which you propose, former admissions. if only feasible, would do all sorts of good to the State. I What admissions? will add, what you have omitted, that your citizens will be I want to know whether ideals are ever fully realized in lan- the bravest of warriors, and will never leave their ranks, for guage? Does not the word express more than the fact, and they will all know one another, and each will call the other must not the actual, whatever a man may think, always, in the father, brother, son; and if you suppose the women to join nature of things, fall short of the truth? What do you say? their armies, whether in the same rank or in the rear, either I agree. as a terror to the enemy, or as auxiliaries in case of need, I Then you must not insist on my proving that the actual State know that they will then be absolutely invincible; and there will in every respect coincide with the ideal: if we are only are many domestic advantages which might also be mentioned able to discover how a city may be governed nearly as we and which I also fully acknowledge: but, as I admit all these proposed, you will admit that we have discovered the possi- advantages and as many more as you please, if only this State bility which you demand; and will be contented. I am sure of yours were to come into existence, we need say no more that I should be contented Ð will not you? about them; assuming then the existence of the State, let us Yes, I will. now turn to the question of possibility and ways and means Ð Let me next endeavour to show what is that fault in States the rest may be left. which is the cause of their present maladministration, and If I loiter for a moment, you instantly make a raid upon me, what is the least change which will enable a State to pass into I said, and have no mercy; I have hardly escaped the first and the truer form; and let the change, if possible, be of one thing second waves, and you seem not to be aware that you are now only, or, if not, of two; at any rate, let the changes be as few bringing upon me the third, which is the greatest and heaviest. and slight as possible. When you have seen and heard the third wave, I think you Certainly, he replied. be more considerate and will acknowledge that some fear and I think, I said, that there might be a reform of the State hesitation was natural respecting a proposal so extraordinary if only one change were made, which is not a slight or easy as that which I have now to state and investigate. though still a possible one. The more appeals of this sort which you make, he said, the What is it? he said. more determined are we that you shall tell us how such a State Now then, I said, I go to meet that which I liken to the great- is possible: speak out and at once. est of the waves; yet shall the word be spoken, even though the Let me begin by reminding you that we found our way wave break and drown me in laughter and dishonour; and do hither in the search after justice and injustice. you mark my words. True, he replied; but what of that? Proceed. I was only going to ask whether, if we have discovered I said: Until philosophers are kings, or the kings and them, we are to require that the just man should in nothing princes of this world have the spirit and power of philoso- fail of absolute justice; or may we be satisfied with an ap- phy, and political greatness and wisdom meet in one, and proximation, and the attainment in him of a higher degree of those commoner natures who pursue either to the exclu- justice than is to be found in other men? sion of the other are compelled to stand aside, cities will The approximation will be enough. never have rest from their evils – nor the human race, as I We are enquiring into the nature of absolute justice and into believe, – and then only will this our State have a possibil- the character of the perfectly just, and into injustice and the ity of life and behold the light of day. Such was the thought, perfectly unjust, that we might have an ideal. We were to look my dear Glaucon, which I would fain have uttered if it had not at these in order that we might judge of our own happiness and seemed too extravagant; for to be convinced that in no other 96

State can there be happiness private or public is indeed a hard any wine. thing. Very good. Socrates, what do you mean? I would have you consider And the same is true of ambitious men; if they cannot com- that the word which you have uttered is one at which nu- mand an army, they are willing to command a file; and if they merous persons, and very respectable persons too, in a fig- cannot be honoured by really great and important persons, ure pulling off their coats all in a moment, and seizing any they are glad to be honoured by lesser and meaner people, Ð weapon that comes to hand, will run at you might and main, but honour of some kind they must have. before you know where you are, intending to do heaven knows Exactly. what; and if you don’t prepare an answer, and put yourself in Once more let me ask: Does he who desires any class of motion, you will be “pared by their fine wits,” and no mistake. goods, desire the whole class or a part only? You got me into the scrape, I said. The whole. And I was quite right; however, I will do all I can to get you And may we not say of the philosopher that he is a lover, out of it; but I can only give you good-will and good advice, not of a part of wisdom only, but of the whole? and, perhaps, I may be able to fit answers to your questions Yes, of the whole. better than another Ð that is all. And now, having such an And he who dislikes learning, especially in youth, when auxiliary, you must do your best to show the unbelievers that he has no power of judging what is good and what is not, you are right. such a one we maintain not to be a philosopher or a lover of knowledge, just as he who refuses his food is not hungry, and may be said to have a bad appetite and not a good one? 3.4.2. Definition of the Philosopher. The Two Worlds Very true, he said. Whereas he who has a taste for every sort of knowledge and I ought to try, I said, since you offer me such invaluable who is curious to learn and is never satisfied, may be justly assistance. And I think that, if there is to be a chance of our termed a philosopher? Am I not right? escaping, we must explain to them whom we mean when we Glaucon said: If curiosity makes a philosopher, you will say that philosophers are to rule in the State; then we shall be find many a strange being will have a title to the name. All able to defend ourselves: There will be discovered to be some the lovers of sights have a delight in learning, and must there- natures who ought to study philosophy and to be leaders in fore be included. Musical amateurs, too, are a folk strangely the State; and others who are not born to be philosophers, and out of place among philosophers, for they are the last persons are meant to be followers rather than leaders. in the world who would come to anything like a philosophi- Then now for a definition, he said. cal discussion, if they could help, while they run about at the Follow me, I said, and I hope that I may in some way or Dionysiac festivals as if they had let out their ears to hear every other be able to give you a satisfactory explanation. chorus; whether the performance is in town or country Ð that Proceed. makes no difference Ð they are there. Now are we to maintain I dare say that you remember, and therefore I need not re- that all these and any who have similar tastes, as well as the mind you, that a lover, if he is worthy of the name, ought to professors of quite minor arts, are philosophers? show his love, not to some one part of that which he loves, but Certainly not, I replied; they are only an imitation. to the whole. He said: Who then are the true philosophers? I really do not understand, and therefore beg of you to assist Those, I said, who are lovers of the vision of truth. my memory. That is also good, he said; but I should like to know what Another person, I said, might fairly reply as you do; but you mean? a man of pleasure like yourself ought to know that all who To another, I replied, I might have a difficulty in explaining; are in the flower of youth do somehow or other raise a pang but I am sure that you will admit a proposition which I am or emotion in a lover’s breast, and are thought by him to be about to make. worthy of his affectionate regards. Is not this a way which What is the proposition? you have with the fair: one has a snub nose, and you praise his That since beauty is the opposite of ugliness, they are two? charming face; the hook-nose of another has, you say, a royal Certainly. look; while he who is neither snub nor hooked has the grace And inasmuch as they are two, each of them is one? of regularity: the dark visage is manly, the fair are children of True again. the gods; and as to the sweet “honey pale,” as they are called, And of just and unjust, good and evil, and of every other what is the very name but the invention of a lover who talks in class, the same remark holds: taken singly, each of them one; diminutives, and is not adverse to paleness if appearing on the but from the various combinations of them with actions and cheek of youth? In a word, there is no excuse which you will things and with one another, they are seen in all sorts of lights not make, and nothing which you will not say, in order not to and appear many? lose a single flower that blooms in the spring-time of youth. Very true. If you make me an authority in matters of love, for the sake And this is the distinction which I draw between the sight- of the argument, I assent. loving, art-loving, practical class and those of whom I am And what do you say of lovers of wine? Do you not see speaking, and who are alone worthy of the name of philoso- them doing the same? They are glad of any pretext of drinking phers. 97

How do you distinguish them? he said. Then opinion and knowledge have to do with different The lovers of sounds and sights, I replied, are, as I conceive, kinds of matter corresponding to this difference of faculties? fond of fine tones and colours and forms and all the artificial Yes. products that are made out of them, but their mind is incapable And knowledge is relative to being and knows being. But of seeing or loving absolute beauty. before I proceed further I will make a division. True, he replied. What division? Few are they who are able to attain to the sight of this. I will begin by placing faculties in a class by themselves: Very true. they are powers in us, and in all other things, by which we And he who, having a sense of beautiful things has no sense do as we do. Sight and hearing, for example, I should call of absolute beauty, or who, if another lead him to a knowledge faculties. Have I clearly explained the class which I mean? of that beauty is unable to follow Ð of such a one I ask, Is he Yes, I quite understand. awake or in a dream only? Reflect: is not the dreamer, sleep- Then let me tell you my view about them. I do not see them, ing or waking, one who likens dissimilar things, who puts the and therefore the distinctions of figure, colour, and the like, copy in the place of the real object? which enable me to discern the differences of some things, I should certainly say that such a one was dreaming. do not apply to them. In speaking of a faculty I think only of But take the case of the other, who recognises the existence its sphere and its result; and that which has the same sphere of absolute beauty and is able to distinguish the idea from and the same result I call the same faculty, but that which has the objects which participate in the idea, neither putting the another sphere and another result I call different. Would that objects in the place of the idea nor the idea in the place of the be your way of speaking? objects Ð is he a dreamer, or is he awake? Yes. He is wide awake. And will you be so very good as to answer one more ques- And may we not say that the mind of the one who knows tion? Would you say that knowledge is a faculty, or in what has knowledge, and that the mind of the other, who opines class would you place it? only, has opinion? Certainly knowledge is a faculty, and the mightiest of all Certainly. faculties. But suppose that the latter should quarrel with us and dis- And is opinion also a faculty? pute our statement, can we administer any soothing cordial Certainly, he said; for opinion is that with which we are or advice to him, without revealing to him that there is sad able to form an opinion. disorder in his wits? And yet you were acknowledging a little while ago that We must certainly offer him some good advice, he replied. knowledge is not the same as opinion? Come, then, and let us think of something to say to him. Why, yes, he said: how can any reasonable being ever iden- Shall we begin by assuring him that he is welcome to any tify that which is infallible with that which errs? knowledge which he may have, and that we are rejoiced at his An excellent answer, proving, I said, that we are quite con- having it? But we should like to ask him a question: Does he scious of a distinction between them. who has knowledge know something or nothing? (You must Yes. answer for him.) Then knowledge and opinion having distinct powers have I answer that he knows something. also distinct spheres or subject-matters? Something that is or is not? That is certain. Something that is; for how can that which is not ever be Being is the sphere or subject-matter of knowledge, and known? knowledge is to know the nature of being? And are we assured, after looking at the matter from many Yes. points of view, that absolute being is or may be absolutely And opinion is to have an opinion? known, but that the utterly non-existent is utterly unknown? Yes. Nothing can be more certain. And do we know what we opine? or is the subject-matter Good. But if there be anything which is of such a nature as of opinion the same as the subject-matter of knowledge? to be and not to be, that will have a place intermediate between Nay, he replied, that has been already disproven; if differ- pure being and the absolute negation of being? ence in faculty implies difference in the sphere or subject mat- Yes, between them. ter, and if, as we were saying, opinion and knowledge are And, as knowledge corresponded to being and ignorance distinct faculties, then the sphere of knowledge and of opin- of necessity to not-being, for that intermediate between be- ion cannot be the same. ing and not-being there has to be discovered a corresponding Then if being is the subject-matter of knowledge, some- intermediate between ignorance and knowledge, if there be thing else must be the subject-matter of opinion? such? Yes, something else. Certainly. Well then, is not-being the subject-matter of opinion? or, Do we admit the existence of opinion? rather, how can there be an opinion at all about not-being? Undoubtedly. Reflect: when a man has an opinion, has he not an opinion As being the same with knowledge, or another faculty? about something? Can he have an opinion which is an opinion Another faculty. about nothing? 98

Impossible. And things great and small, heavy and light, as they are He who has an opinion has an opinion about some one termed, will not be denoted by these any more than by the thing? opposite names? Yes. True; both these and the opposite names will always attach And not-being is not one thing but, properly speaking, to all of them. nothing? And can any one of those many things which are called by True. particular names be said to be this rather than not to be this? Of not-being, ignorance was assumed to be the necessary He replied: They are like the punning riddles which are correlative; of being, knowledge? asked at feasts or the children’s puzzle about the eunuch aim- True, he said. ing at the bat, with what he hit him, as they say in the puz- Then opinion is not concerned either with being or with zle, and upon what the bat was sitting. The individual objects not-being? of which I am speaking are also a riddle, and have a double Not with either. sense: nor can you fix them in your mind, either as being or And can therefore neither be ignorance nor knowledge? not-being, or both, or neither. Then what will you do with them? I said. Can they have a That seems to be true. better place than between being and not-being? For they are But is opinion to be sought without and beyond either of clearly not in greater darkness or negation than not-being, or them, in a greater clearness than knowledge, or in a greater more full of light and existence than being. darkness than ignorance? That is quite true, he said. In neither. Thus then we seem to have discovered that the many ideas Then I suppose that opinion appears to you to be darker which the multitude entertain about the beautiful and about all than knowledge, but lighter than ignorance? other things are tossing about in some region which is halfway Both; and in no small degree. between pure being and pure not-being? And also to be within and between them? We have. Yes. Yes; and we had before agreed that anything of this kind Then you would infer that opinion is intermediate? which we might find was to be described as matter of opinion, No question. and not as matter of knowledge; being the intermediate flux But were we not saying before, that if anything appeared to which is caught and detained by the intermediate faculty. be of a sort which is and is not at the same time, that sort of Quite true. thing would appear also to lie in the interval between pure be- Then those who see the many beautiful, and who yet nei- ing and absolute not-being; and that the corresponding faculty ther see absolute beauty, nor can follow any guide who points is neither knowledge nor ignorance, but will be found in the the way thither; who see the many just, and not absolute jus- interval between them? tice, and the like, Ð such persons may be said to have opinion True. but not knowledge? And in that interval there has now been discovered some- That is certain. thing which we call opinion? But those who see the absolute and eternal and immutable There has. may be said to know, and not to have opinion only? Then what remains to be discovered is the object which par- Neither can that be denied. takes equally of the nature of being and not-being, and cannot The one loves and embraces the subjects of knowledge, the rightly be termed either, pure and simple; this unknown term, other those of opinion? The latter are the same, as I dare say when discovered, we may truly call the subject of opinion, and you will remember, who listened to sweet sounds and gazed assign each to its proper faculty, Ð the extremes to the faculties upon fair colours, but would not tolerate the existence of ab- of the extremes and the mean to the faculty of the mean. solute beauty. True. Yes, I remember. This being premised, I would ask the gentleman who is Shall we then be guilty of any impropriety in calling them of opinion that there is no absolute or unchangeable idea of lovers of opinion rather than lovers of wisdom, and will they beauty Ð in whose opinion the beautiful is the manifold Ð he, I be very angry with us for thus describing them? say, your lover of beautiful sights, who cannot bear to be told I shall tell them not to be angry; no man should be angry at that the beautiful is one, and the just is one, or that anything is what is true. one Ð to him I would appeal, saying, Will you be so very kind, But those who love the truth in each thing are to be called sir, as to tell us whether, of all these beautiful things, there is lovers of wisdom and not lovers of opinion. one which will not be found ugly; or of the just, which will not Assuredly. be found unjust; or of the holy, which will not also be unholy? No, he replied; the beautiful will in some point of view be found ugly; and the same is true of the rest. 3.4.3. The Philosopher’s Fitness to Rule And may not the many which are doubles be also halves? Ð doubles, that is, of one thing, and halves of another? And thus, Glaucon, after the argument has gone a weary Quite true. way, the true and the false philosophers have at length ap- 99 peared in view. And if they are to be what we were describing, is there not I do not think, he said, that the way could have been short- another quality which they should also possess? ened. What quality? I suppose not, I said; and yet I believe that we might have Truthfulness: they will never intentionally receive into their had a better view of both of them if the discussion could have mind falsehood, which is their detestation, and they will love been confined to this one subject and if there were not many the truth. other questions awaiting us, which he who desires to see in Yes, that may be safely affirmed of them. what respect the life of the just differs from that of the unjust “May be,” my friend, I replied, is not the word; say rather must consider. “must be affirmed”: for he whose nature is amorous of any- And what is the next question? he asked. thing cannot help loving all that belongs or is akin to the object Surely, I said, the one which follows next in order. Inas- of his affections. much as philosophers only are able to grasp the eternal and un- Right, he said. changeable, and those who wander in the region of the many And is there anything more akin to wisdom than truth? and variable are not philosophers, I must ask you which of the How can there be? two classes should be the rulers of our State? Can the same nature be a lover of wisdom and a lover of And how can we rightly answer that question? falsehood? Whichever of the two are best able to guard the laws and Never. institutions of our State Ð let them be our guardians. The true lover of learning then must from his earliest youth, Very good. as far as in him lies, desire all truth? Neither, I said, can there be any question that the guardian Assuredly. who is to keep anything should have eyes rather than no eyes? But then again, as we know by experience, he whose de- sires are strong in one direction will have them weaker in oth- There can be no question of that. ers; they will be like a stream which has been drawn off into And are not those who are verily and indeed wanting in the another channel. knowledge of the true being of each thing, and who have in True. their souls no clear pattern, and are unable as with a painter’s He whose desires are drawn towards knowledge in every eye to look at the absolute truth and to that original to repair, form will be absorbed in the pleasures of the soul, and will and having perfect vision of the other world to order the laws hardly feel bodily pleasure Ð I mean, if he be a true philoso- about beauty, goodness, justice in this, if not already ordered, pher and not a sham one. and to guard and preserve the order of them Ð are not such That is most certain. persons, I ask, simply blind? Such a one is sure to be temperate and the reverse of cov- Truly, he replied, they are much in that condition. etous; for the motives which make another man desirous of And shall they be our guardians when there are others who, having and spending, have no place in his character. besides being their equals in experience and falling short of Very true. them in no particular of virtue, also know the very truth of Another criterion of the philosophical nature has also to be each thing? considered. There can be no reason, he said, for rejecting those who What is that? have this greatest of all great qualities; they must always have There should be no secret corner of illiberality; nothing can the first place unless they fail in some other respect. be more antagonistic than meanness to a soul which is ever Suppose then, I said, that we determine how far they can longing after the whole of things both divine and human. unite this and the other excellences. Most true, he replied. By all means. Then how can he who has magnificence of mind and is the In the first place, as we began by observing, the nature of spectator of all time and all existence, think much of human the philosopher has to be ascertained. We must come to an life? understanding about him, and, when we have done so, then, He cannot. if I am not mistaken, we shall also acknowledge that such an Or can such a one account death fearful? union of qualities is possible, and that those in whom they are No indeed. united, and those only, should be rulers in the State. Then the cowardly and mean nature has no part in true phi- What do you mean? losophy? Let us suppose that philosophical minds always love Certainly not. knowledge of a sort which shows them the eternal nature not Or again: can he who is harmoniously constituted, who is varying from generation and corruption. not covetous or mean, or a boaster, or a coward Ð can he, I say, Agreed. ever be unjust or hard in his dealings? And further, I said, let us agree that they are lovers of all Impossible. true being; there is no part whether greater or less, or more Then you will soon observe whether a man is just and gen- or less honourable, which they are willing to renounce; as we tle, or rude and unsociable; these are the signs which distin- said before of the lover and the man of ambition. guish even in youth the philosophical nature from the unphilo- True. sophical. 100

True. suggested to me by what is now occurring. For any one of There is another point which should be remarked. us might say, that although in words he is not able to meet What point? you at each step of the argument, he sees as a fact that the Whether he has or has not a pleasure in learning; for no one votaries of philosophy, when they carry on the study, not only will love that which gives him pain, and in which after much in youth as a part of education, but as the pursuit of their ma- toil he makes little progress. turer years, most of them become strange monsters, not to say Certainly not. utter rogues, and that those who may be considered the best of And again, if he is forgetful and retains nothing of what he them are made useless to the world by the very study which learns, will he not be an empty vessel? you extol. That is certain. Well, and do you think that those who say so are wrong? Labouring in vain, he must end in hating himself and his I cannot tell, he replied; but I should like to know what is fruitless occupation? your opinion. Yes. Hear my answer; I am of opinion that they are quite right. Then a soul which forgets cannot be ranked among gen- Then how can you be justified in saying that cities will not uine philosophic natures; we must insist that the philosopher cease from evil until philosophers rule in them, when philoso- should have a good memory? phers are acknowledged by us to be of no use to them? Certainly. You ask a question, I said, to which a reply can only be And once more, the inharmonious and unseemly nature can given in a parable. only tend to disproportion? Yes, Socrates; and that is a way of speaking to which you Undoubtedly. are not at all accustomed, I suppose. And do you consider truth to be akin to proportion or to I perceive, I said, that you are vastly amused at having disproportion? plunged me into such a hopeless discussion; but now hear the To proportion. parable, and then you will be still more amused at the mea- Then, besides other qualities, we must try to find a natu- greness of my imagination: for the manner in which the best rally well-proportioned and gracious mind, which will move men are treated in their own States is so grievous that no sin- spontaneously towards the true being of everything. gle thing on earth is comparable to it; and therefore, if I am Certainly. to plead their cause, I must have recourse to fiction, and put Well, and do not all these qualities, which we have been together a figure made up of many things, like the fabulous enumerating, go together, and are they not, in a manner, nec- unions of goats and stags which are found in pictures. Imag- essary to a soul, which is to have a full and perfect participa- ine then a fleet or a ship in which there is a captain who is taller tion of being? and stronger than any of the crew, but he is a little deaf and has They are absolutely necessary, he replied. a similar infirmity in sight, and his knowledge of navigation is And must not that be a blameless study which he only can not much better. The sailors are quarrelling with one another pursue who has the gift of a good memory, and is quick to about the steering Ð every one is of opinion that he has a right learn, Ð noble, gracious, the friend of truth, justice, courage, to steer, though he has never learned the art of navigation and temperance, who are his kindred? cannot tell who taught him or when he learned, and will fur- The god of jealousy himself, he said, could find no fault ther assert that it cannot be taught, and they are ready to cut with such a study. in pieces any one who says the contrary. They throng about And to men like him, I said, when perfected by years and the captain, begging and praying him to commit the helm to education, and to these only you will entrust the State. them; and if at any time they do not prevail, but others are preferred to them, they kill the others or throw them over- board, and having first chained up the noble captain’s senses 3.4.4. Why the Philosophic Nature Is Useless or Corrupted in with drink or some narcotic drug, they mutiny and take pos- Existing Society session of the ship and make free with the stores; thus, eating and drinking, they proceed on their voyage in such a manner Here Adeimantus interposed and said: To these statements, as might be expected of them. Him who is their partisan and Socrates, no one can offer a reply; but when you talk in this cleverly aids them in their plot for getting the ship out of the way, a strange feeling passes over the minds of your hearers: captain’s hands into their own whether by force or persuasion, They fancy that they are led astray a little at each step in the they compliment with the name of sailor, pilot, able seaman, argument, owing to their own want of skill in asking and an- and abuse the other sort of man, whom they call a good-for- swering questions; these littles accumulate, and at the end of nothing; but that the true pilot must pay attention to the year the discussion they are found to have sustained a mighty over- and seasons and sky and stars and winds, and whatever else throw and all their former notions appear to be turned upside belongs to his art, if he intends to be really qualified for the down. And as unskillful players of draughts are at last shut up command of a ship, and that he must and will be the steerer, by their more skillful adversaries and have no piece to move, whether other people like or not Ð the possibility of this union so they too find themselves shut up at last; for they have noth- of authority with the steerer’s art has never seriously entered ing to say in this new game of which words are the counters; into their thoughts or been made part of their calling. Now in and yet all the time they are in the right. The observation is vessels which are in a state of mutiny and by sailors who are 101 mutineers, how will the true pilot be regarded? Will he not be essence by a sympathetic and kindred power in the soul, and called by them a prater, a star-gazer, a good-for-nothing? by that power drawing near and mingling and becoming in- Of course, said Adeimantus. corporate with very being, having begotten mind and truth, he Then you will hardly need, I said, to hear the interpreta- will have knowledge and will live and grow truly, and then, tion of the figure, which describes the true philosopher in his and not till then, will he cease from his travail. relation to the State; for you understand already. Nothing, he said, can be more just than such a description Certainly. of him. Then suppose you now take this parable to the gentleman And will the love of a lie be any part of a philosopher’s who is surprised at finding that philosophers have no honour nature? Will he not utterly hate a lie? in their cities; explain it to him and try to convince him that He will. their having honour would be far more extraordinary. And when truth is the captain, we cannot suspect any evil I will. of the band which he leads? Say to him, that, in deeming the best votaries of philosophy Impossible. to be useless to the rest of the world, he is right; but also tell Justice and health of mind will be of the company, and tem- him to attribute their uselessness to the fault of those who will perance will follow after? not use them, and not to themselves. The pilot should not True, he replied. humbly beg the sailors to be commanded by him Ð that is not Neither is there any reason why I should again set in ar- the order of nature; neither are “the wise to go to the doors ray the philosopher’s virtues, as you will doubtless remember of the rich” Ð the ingenious author of this saying told a lie Ð that courage, magnificence, apprehension, memory, were his but the truth is, that, when a man is ill, whether he be rich natural gifts. And you objected that, although no one could or poor, to the physician he must go, and he who wants to be deny what I then said, still, if you leave words and look at governed, to him who is able to govern. The ruler who is good facts, the persons who are thus described are some of them for anything ought not to beg his subjects to be ruled by him; manifestly useless, and the greater number utterly depraved; although the present governors of mankind are of a different we were then led to enquire into the grounds of these accusa- stamp; they may be justly compared to the mutinous sailors, tions, and have now arrived at the point of asking why are the and the true helmsmen to those who are called by them good- majority bad, which question of necessity brought us back to for-nothings and star-gazers. the examination and definition of the true philosopher. Precisely so, he said. Exactly. For these reasons, and among men like these, philosophy, And we have next to consider the corruptions of the philo- the noblest pursuit of all, is not likely to be much esteemed sophic nature, why so many are spoiled and so few escape by those of the opposite faction; not that the greatest and spoiling Ð I am speaking of those who were said to be useless most lasting injury is done to her by her opponents, but by but not wicked Ð and, when we have done with them, we will her own professing followers, the same of whom you suppose speak of the imitators of philosophy, what manner of men are the accuser to say, that the greater number of them are arrant they who aspire after a profession which is above them and of rogues, and the best are useless; in which opinion I agreed. which they are unworthy, and then, by their manifold incon- Yes. sistencies, bring upon philosophy, and upon all philosophers, And the reason why the good are useless has now been ex- that universal reprobation of which we speak. plained? What are these corruptions? he said. True. I will see if I can explain them to you. Every one will admit Then shall we proceed to show that the corruption of the that a nature having in perfection all the qualities which we majority is also unavoidable, and that this is not to be laid to required in a philosopher, is a rare plant which is seldom seen the charge of philosophy any more than the other? among men. By all means. Rare indeed. And let us ask and answer in turn, first going back to the And what numberless and powerful causes tend to destroy description of the gentle and noble nature. Truth, as you will these rare natures! remember, was his leader, whom he followed always and in What causes? all things; failing in this, he was an impostor, and had no part In the first place there are their own virtues, their courage, or lot in true philosophy. temperance, and the rest of them, every one of which praise Yes, that was said. worthy qualities (and this is a most singular circumstance) de- Well, and is not this one quality, to mention no others, stroys and distracts from philosophy the soul which is the pos- greatly at variance with present notions of him? sessor of them. Certainly, he said. That is very singular, he replied. And have we not a right to say in his defence, that the Then there are all the ordinary goods of life Ð beauty, true lover of knowledge is always striving after being Ð that wealth, strength, rank, and great connections in the State Ð is his nature; he will not rest in the multiplicity of individ- you understand the sort of things Ð these also have a corrupt- uals which is an appearance only, but will go on Ð the keen ing and distracting effect. edge will not be blunted, nor the force of his desire abate un- I understand; but I should like to know more precisely what til he have attained the knowledge of the true nature of every you mean about them. 102

Grasp the truth as a whole, I said, and in the right way; No, indeed, I said, even to make the attempt is a great piece you will then have no difficulty in apprehending the preceding of folly; there neither is, nor has been, nor is ever likely to be, remarks, and they will no longer appear strange to you. any different type of character which has had no other training And how am I to do so? he asked. in virtue but that which is supplied by public opinion Ð I speak, Why, I said, we know that all germs or seeds, whether veg- my friend, of human virtue only; what is more than human, as etable or animal, when they fail to meet with proper nutriment the proverb says, is not included: for I would not have you ig- or climate or soil, in proportion to their vigour, are all the norant that, in the present evil state of governments, whatever more sensitive to the want of a suitable environment, for evil is saved and comes to good is saved by the power of God, as is a greater enemy to what is good than what is not. we may truly say. Very true. I quite assent, he replied. There is reason in supposing that the finest natures, when Then let me crave your assent also to a further observation. under alien conditions, receive more injury than the inferior, What are you going to say? because the contrast is greater. Why, that all those mercenary individuals, whom the many Certainly. call Sophists and whom they deem to be their adversaries, do, And may we not say, Adeimantus, that the most gifted in fact, teach nothing but the opinion of the many, that is to minds, when they are ill-educated, become pre-eminently say, the opinions of their assemblies; and this is their wisdom. bad? Do not great crimes and the spirit of pure evil spring I might compare them to a man who should study the tempers out of a fulness of nature ruined by education rather than from and desires of a mighty strong beast who is fed by him Ð he any inferiority, whereas weak natures are scarcely capable of would learn how to approach and handle him, also at what any very great good or very great evil? times and from what causes he is dangerous or the reverse, and There I think that you are right. what is the meaning of his several cries, and by what sounds, And our philosopher follows the same analogy Ð he is like a when another utters them, he is soothed or infuriated; and you plant which, having proper nurture, must necessarily grow and may suppose further, that when, by continually attending upon mature into all virtue, but, if sown and planted in an alien soil, him, he has become perfect in all this, he calls his knowledge becomes the most noxious of all weeds, unless he be preserved wisdom, and makes of it a system or art, which he proceeds to by some divine power. Do you really think, as people so often teach, although he has no real notion of what he means by the say, that our youth are corrupted by Sophists, or that private principles or passions of which he is speaking, but calls this teachers of the art corrupt them in any degree worth speaking honourable and that dishonourable, or good or evil, or just or of? Are not the public who say these things the greatest of all unjust, all in accordance with the tastes and tempers of the Sophists? And do they not educate to perfection young and great brute. Good he pronounces to be that in which the beast old, men and women alike, and fashion them after their own delights and evil to be that which he dislikes; and he can give hearts? no other account of them except that the just and noble are the When is this accomplished? he said. necessary, having never himself seen, and having no power When they meet together, and the world sits down at an of explaining to others the nature of either, or the difference assembly, or in a court of law, or a theater, or a camp, or in between them, which is immense. By heaven, would not such any other popular resort, and there is a great uproar, and they an one be a rare educator? praise some things which are being said or done, and blame Indeed, he would. other things, equally exaggerating both, shouting and clap- And in what way does he who thinks that wisdom is the ping their hands, and the echo of the rocks and the place in discernment of the tempers and tastes of the motley multi- which they are assembled redoubles the sound of the praise or tude, whether in painting or music, or, finally, in politics, dif- blame Ð at such a time will not a young man’s heart, as they fer from him whom I have been describing? For when a man say, leap within him? Will any private training enable him to consorts with the many, and exhibits to them his poem or other stand firm against the overwhelming flood of popular opinion? work of art or the service which he has done the State, making or will he be carried away by the stream? Will he not have the them his judges when he is not obliged, the so-called necessity notions of good and evil which the public in general have Ð of Diomede will oblige him to produce whatever they praise. he will do as they do, and as they are, such will he be? And yet the reasons are utterly ludicrous which they give in Yes, Socrates; necessity will compel him. confirmation of their own notions about the honourable and And yet, I said, there is a still greater necessity, which has good. Did you ever hear any of them which were not? not been mentioned. No, nor am I likely to hear. What is that? You recognise the truth of what I have been saying? Then The gentle force of attainder or confiscation or death which, let me ask you to consider further whether the world will ever as you are aware, these new Sophists and educators who are be induced to believe in the existence of absolute beauty rather the public, apply when their words are powerless. than of the many beautiful, or of the absolute in each kind Indeed they do; and in right good earnest. rather than of the many in each kind? Now what opinion of any other Sophist, or of any private Certainly not. person, can be expected to overcome in such an unequal con- Then the world cannot possibly be a philosopher? test? Impossible. None, he replied. And therefore philosophers must inevitably fall under the 103 censure of the world? which come the men who are the authors of the greatest evil to They must. States and individuals; and also of the greatest good when the And of individuals who consort with the mob and seek to tide carries them in that direction; but a small man never was please them? the doer of any great thing either to individuals or to States. That is evident. That is most true, he said. Then, do you see any way in which the philosopher can And so philosophy is left desolate, with her marriage rite be preserved in his calling to the end? and remember what incomplete: for her own have fallen away and forsaken her, we were saying of him, that he was to have quickness and and while they are leading a false and unbecoming life, other memory and courage and magnificence Ð these were admitted unworthy persons, seeing that she has no kinsmen to be her by us to be the true philosopher’s gifts. protectors, enter in and dishonour her; and fasten upon her the Yes. reproaches which, as you say, her reprovers utter, who affirm Will not such a one from his early childhood be in all things of her votaries that some are good for nothing, and that the first among all, especially if his bodily endowments are like greater number deserve the severest punishment. his mental ones? That is certainly what people say. Certainly, he said. Yes; and what else would you expect, I said, when you think And his friends and fellow-citizens will want to use him as of the puny creatures who, seeing this land open to them Ð a he gets older for their own purposes? land well stocked with fair names and showy titles Ð like pris- No question. oners running out of prison into a sanctuary, take a leap out Falling at his feet, they will make requests to him and do of their trades into philosophy; those who do so being prob- him honour and flatter him, because they want to get into their ably the cleverest hands at their own miserable crafts? For, hands now, the power which he will one day possess. although philosophy be in this evil case, still there remains a That often happens, he said. dignity about her which is not to be found in the arts. And And what will a man such as he be likely to do under such many are thus attracted by her whose natures are imperfect circumstances, especially if he be a citizen of a great city, rich and whose souls are maimed and disfigured by their mean- and noble, and a tall proper youth? Will he not be full of nesses, as their bodies are by their trades and crafts. Is not boundless aspirations, and fancy himself able to manage the this unavoidable? affairs of Hellenes and of barbarians, and having got such Yes. notions into his head will he not dilate and elevate himself in Are they not exactly like a bald little tinker who has just got the fulness of vain pomp and senseless pride? out of durance and come into a fortune; he takes a bath and To be sure he will. puts on a new coat, and is decked out as a bridegroom going Now, when he is in this state of mind, if some one gently to marry his master’s daughter, who is left poor and desolate? comes to him and tells him that he is a fool and must get un- A most exact parallel. derstanding, which can only be got by slaving for it, do you What will be the issue of such marriages? Will they not be think that, under such adverse circumstances, he will be easily vile and bastard? induced to listen? There can be no question of it. Far otherwise. And when persons who are unworthy of education ap- And even if there be some one who through inherent good- proach philosophy and make an alliance with her who is a ness or natural reasonableness has had his eyes opened a little rank above them what sort of ideas and opinions are likely to and is humbled and taken captive by philosophy, how will his be generated? Will they not be sophisms captivating to the friends behave when they think that they are likely to lose the ear, having nothing in them genuine, or worthy of or akin to advantage which they were hoping to reap from his compan- true wisdom? ionship? Will they not do and say anything to prevent him No doubt, he said. from yielding to his better nature and to render his teacher Then, Adeimantus, I said, the worthy disciples of philoso- powerless, using to this end private intrigues as well as public phy will be but a small remnant: perchance some noble and prosecutions? well-educated person, detained by exile in her service, who in There can be no doubt of it. the absence of corrupting influences remains devoted to her; And how can one who is thus circumstanced ever become or some lofty soul born in a mean city, the politics of which a philosopher? he condemns and neglects; and there may be a gifted few who Impossible. leave the arts, which they justly despise, and come to her; Ð or Then were we not right in saying that even the very qualities peradventure there are some who are restrained by our friend which make a man a philosopher may, if he be ill-educated, Theages’ bridle; for everything in the life of Theages con- divert him from philosophy, no less than riches and their ac- spired to divert him from philosophy; but ill-health kept him companiments and the other so-called goods of life? away from politics. My own case of the internal sign is hardly We were quite right. worth mentioning, for rarely, if ever, has such a monitor been Thus, my excellent friend, is brought about all that ruin given to any other man. Those who belong to this small class and failure which I have been describing of the natures best have tasted how sweet and blessed a possession philosophy adapted to the best of all pursuits; they are natures which we is, and have also seen enough of the madness of the multi- maintain to be rare at any time; this being the class out of tude; and they know that no politician is honest, nor is there 104 any champion of justice at whose side they may fight and be attended with risk; “hard is the good,” as men say. saved. Such a one may be compared to a man who has fallen Still, he said, let the point be cleared up, and the enquiry among wild beasts Ð he will not join in the wickedness of his will then be complete. fellows, but neither is he able singly to resist all their fierce I shall not be hindered, I said, by any want of will, but, if at natures, and therefore seeing that he would be of no use to the all, by a want of power: my zeal you may see for yourselves; State or to his friends, and reflecting that he would have to and please to remark in what I am about to say how boldly and throw away his life without doing any good either to himself unhesitatingly I declare that States should pursue philosophy, or others, he holds his peace, and goes his own way. He is like not as they do now, but in a different spirit. one who, in the storm of dust and sleet which the driving wind In what manner? hurries along, retires under the shelter of a wall; and seeing the At present, I said, the students of philosophy are quite rest of mankind full of wickedness, he is content, if only he young; beginning when they are hardly past childhood, they can live his own life and be pure from evil or unrighteousness, devote only the time saved from moneymaking and house- and depart in peace and good-will, with bright hopes. keeping to such pursuits; and even those of them who are re- Yes, he said, and he will have done a great work before he puted to have most of the philosophic spirit, when they come departs. within sight of the great difficulty of the subject, I mean di- A great work Ð yes; but not the greatest, unless he find a alectic, take themselves off. In after life when invited by some State suitable to him; for in a State which is suitable to him, one else, they may, perhaps, go and hear a lecture, and about he will have a larger growth and be the saviour of his country, this they make much ado, for philosophy is not considered by as well as of himself. them to be their proper business: at last, when they grow old, in most cases they are extinguished more truly than the sun of Heraclitus, inasmuch as they never light up again. 3.4.5. A Philosophic Ruler Is Not an Impossibility But what ought to be their course? Just the opposite. In childhood and youth their study, and The causes why philosophy is in such an evil name have what philosophy they learn, should be suited to their tender now been sufficiently explained: the injustice of the charges years: during this period while they are growing up towards against her has been shown Ð is there anything more which manhood, the chief and special care should be given to their you wish to say? bodies that they may have them to use in the service of phi- Nothing more on that subject, he replied; but I should like losophy; as life advances and the intellect begins to mature, to know which of the governments now existing is in your let them increase the gymnastics of the soul; but when the opinion the one adapted to her. strength of our citizens fails and is past civil and military Not any of them, I said; and that is precisely the accusation duties, then let them range at will and engage in no serious which I bring against them Ð not one of them is worthy of the labour, as we intend them to live happily here, and to crown philosophic nature, and hence that nature is warped and es- this life with a similar happiness in another. tranged; Ð as the exotic seed which is sown in a foreign land How truly in earnest you are, Socrates! he said; I am sure becomes denaturalized, and is wont to be overpowered and of that; and yet most of your hearers, if I am not mistaken, are to lose itself in the new soil, even so this growth of philos- likely to be still more earnest in their opposition to you, and ophy, instead of persisting, degenerates and receives another will never be convinced; Thrasymachus least of all. character. But if philosophy ever finds in the State that per- Do not make a quarrel, I said, between Thrasymachus and fection which she herself is, then will be seen that she is in me, who have recently become friends, although, indeed, we truth divine, and that all other things, whether natures of men were never enemies; for I shall go on striving to the utmost un- or institutions, are but human; Ð and now, I know that you are til I either convert him and other men, or do something which going to ask, what that State is. may profit them against the day when they live again, and hold No, he said; there you are wrong, for I was going to ask the like discourse in another state of existence. another question Ð whether it is the State of which. we are the You are speaking of a time which is not very near. founders and inventors, or some other? Rather, I replied, of a time which is as nothing in com- Yes, I replied, ours in most respects; but you may remember parison with eternity. Nevertheless, I do not wonder that the my saying before, that some living authority would always be many refuse to believe; for they have never seen that of which required in the State having the same idea of the constitution we are now speaking realized; they have seen only a con- which guided you when as legislator you were laying down ventional imitation of philosophy, consisting of words artifi- the laws. cially brought together, not like these of ours having a natural That was said, he replied. unity. But a human being who in word and work is perfectly Yes, but not in a satisfactory manner; you frightened us by moulded, as far as he can be, into the proportion and likeness interposing objections, which certainly showed that the dis- of virtue Ð such a man ruling in a city which bears the same cussion would be long and difficult; and what still remains is image, they have never yet seen, neither one nor many of the reverse of easy. them Ð do you think that they ever did? What is there remaining? No indeed. The question how the study of philosophy may be so or- No, my friend, and they have seldom, if ever, heard free and dered as not to be the ruin of the State: All great attempts are noble sentiments; such as men utter when they are earnestly 105 and by every means in their power seeking after truth for the to these he will, as far as he can, conform himself. Can a man sake of knowledge, while they look coldly on the subtleties of help imitating that with which he holds reverential converse? controversy, of which the end is opinion and strife, whether Impossible. they meet with them in the courts of law or in society. And the philosopher holding converse with the divine or- They are strangers, he said, to the words of which you der, becomes orderly and divine, as far as the nature of man speak. allows; but like every one else, he will suffer from detraction. And this was what we foresaw, and this was the reason why Of course. truth forced us to admit, not without fear and hesitation, that And if a necessity be laid upon him of fashioning, not only neither cities nor States nor individuals will ever attain per- himself, but human nature generally, whether in States or in- fection until the small class of philosophers whom we termed dividuals, into that which he beholds elsewhere, will he, think useless but not corrupt are providentially compelled, whether you, be an unskillful artificer of justice, temperance, and every they will or not, to take care of the State, and until a like ne- civil virtue? cessity be laid on the State to obey them; or until kings, or if Anything but unskillful. not kings, the sons of kings or princes, are divinely inspired And if the world perceives that what we are saying about with a true love of true philosophy. That either or both of these him is the truth, will they be angry with philosophy? Will they alternatives are impossible, I see no reason to affirm: if they disbelieve us, when we tell them that no State can be happy were so, we might indeed be justly ridiculed as dreamers and which is not designed by artists who imitate the heavenly pat- visionaries. Am I not right? tern? Quite right. They will not be angry if they understand, he said. But how If then, in the countless ages of the past, or at the present will they draw out the plan of which you are speaking? hour in some foreign clime which is far away and beyond They will begin by taking the State and the manners of men, our ken, the perfected philosopher is or has been or hereafter from which, as from a tablet, they will rub out the picture, shall be compelled by a superior power to have the charge and leave a clean surface. This is no easy task. But whether of the State, we are ready to assert to the death, that this our easy or not, herein will lie the difference between them and constitution has been, and is Ð yea, and will be whenever the every other legislator, Ð they will have nothing to do either Muse of Philosophy is queen. There is no impossibility in all with individual or State, and will inscribe no laws, until they this; that there is a difficulty, we acknowledge ourselves. have either found, or themselves made, a clean surface. My opinion agrees with yours, he said. They will be very right, he said. But do you mean to say that this is not the opinion of the Having effected this, they will proceed to trace an outline multitude? of the constitution? I should imagine not, he replied. No doubt. O my friend, I said, do not attack the multitude: they will And when they are filling in the work, as I conceive, they change their minds, if, not in an aggressive spirit, but gently will often turn their eyes upwards and downwards: I mean that and with the view of soothing them and removing their dis- they will first look at absolute justice and beauty and temper- like of over-education, you show them your philosophers as ance, and again at the human copy; and will mingle and tem- they really are and describe as you were just now doing their per the various elements of life into the image of a man; and character and profession, and then mankind will see that he thus they will conceive according to that other image, which, of whom you are speaking is not such as they supposed Ð if when existing among men, Homer calls the form and likeness they view him in this new light, they will surely change their of God. notion of him, and answer in another strain. Who can be at Very true, he said. enmity with one who loves them, who that is himself gentle And one feature they will erase, and another they will put and free from envy will be jealous of one in whom there is no in, until they have made the ways of men, as far as possible, jealousy? Nay, let me answer for you, that in a few this harsh agreeable to the ways of God? temper may be found but not in the majority of mankind. Indeed, he said, in no way could they make a fairer picture. I quite agree with you, he said. And now, I said, are we beginning to persuade those whom And do you not also think, as I do, that the harsh feeling you described as rushing at us with might and main, that the which the many entertain towards philosophy originates in painter of constitutions is such an one as we are praising; at the pretenders, who rush in uninvited, and are always abusing whom they were so very indignant because to his hands we them, and finding fault with them, who make persons instead committed the State; and are they growing a little calmer at of things the theme of their conversation? and nothing can be what they have just heard? more unbecoming in philosophers than this. Much calmer, if there is any sense in them. It is most unbecoming. Why, where can they still find any ground for objection? For he, Adeimantus, whose mind is fixed upon true being, Will they doubt that the philosopher is a lover of truth and has surely no time to look down upon the affairs of earth, being? or to be filled with malice and envy, contending against men; They would not be so unreasonable. his eye is ever directed towards things fixed and immutable, Or that his nature, being such as we have delineated, is akin which he sees neither injuring nor injured by one another, but to the highest good? all in order moving according to reason; these he imitates, and Neither can they doubt this. 106

But again, will they tell us that such a nature, placed under now disposed of, but the other question of the rulers must be favourable circumstances, will not be perfectly good and wise investigated from the very beginning. We were saying, as you if any ever was? Or will they prefer those whom we have will remember, that they were to be lovers of their country, rejected? tried by the test of pleasures and pains, and neither in hard- Surely not. ships, nor in dangers, nor at any other critical moment were Then will they still be angry at our saying, that, until to lose their patriotism Ð he was to be rejected who failed, but philosophers bear rule, States and individuals will have no rest he who always came forth pure, like gold tried in the refiner’s from evil, nor will this our imaginary State ever be realized? fire, was to be made a ruler, and to receive honours and re- I think that they will be less angry. wards in life and after death. This was the sort of thing which Shall we assume that they are not only less angry but quite was being said, and then the argument turned aside and veiled gentle, and that they have been converted and for very shame, her face; not liking to stir the question which has now arisen. if for no other reason, cannot refuse to come to terms? I perfectly remember, he said. By all means, he said. Yes, my friend, I said, and I then shrank from hazarding Then let us suppose that the reconciliation has been ef- the bold word; but now let me dare to say Ð that the perfect fected. Will any one deny the other point, that there may be guardian must be a philosopher. sons of kings or princes who are by nature philosophers? Yes, he said, let that be affirmed. Surely no man, he said. And do not suppose that there will be many of them; for And when they have come into being will any one say that the gifts which were deemed by us to be essential rarely grow they must of necessity be destroyed; that they can hardly be together; they are mostly found in shreds and patches. saved is not denied even by us; but that in the whole course of What do you mean? he said. ages no single one of them can escape Ð who will venture to You are aware, I replied, that quick intelligence, memory, affirm this? sagacity, cleverness, and similar qualities, do not often grow Who indeed! together, and that persons who possess them and are at the But, said I, one is enough; let there be one man who has a same time high-spirited and magnanimous are not so consti- city obedient to his will, and he might bring into existence the tuted by nature as to live orderly and in a peaceful and settled ideal polity about which the world is so incredulous. manner; they are driven any way by their impulses, and all Yes, one is enough. solid principle goes out of them. The ruler may impose the laws and institutions which we Very true, he said. have been describing, and the citizens may possibly be willing On the other hand, those steadfast natures which can better to obey them? be depended upon, which in a battle are impregnable to fear Certainly. and immovable, are equally immovable when there is any- And that others should approve of what we approve, is no thing to be learned; they are always in a torpid state, and are miracle or impossibility? apt to yawn and go to sleep over any intellectual toil. I think not. Quite true. But we have sufficiently shown, in what has preceded, that And yet we were saying that both qualities were necessary all this, if only possible, is assuredly for the best. in those to whom the higher education is to be imparted, and We have. who are to share in any office or command. And now we say not only that our laws, if they could be Certainly, he said. enacted, would be for the best, but also that the enactment of And will they be a class which is rarely found? them, though difficult, is not impossible. Yes, indeed. Very good. Then the aspirant must not only be tested in those labours and dangers and pleasures which we mentioned before, but there is another kind of probation which we did not mention Ð 3.4.6. The Good as the Highest Object of Knowledge he must be exercised also in many kinds of knowledge, to see whether the soul will be able to endure the highest of all, will 27. faint under them, as in any other studies and exercises. And so with pain and toil we have reached the end of one Yes, he said, you are quite right in testing him. But what do subject, but more remains to be discussed; Ð how and by what you mean by the highest of all knowledge? studies and pursuits will the saviours of the constitution be You may remember, I said, that we divided the soul into created, and at what ages are they to apply themselves to their three parts; and distinguished the several natures of justice, several studies? temperance, courage, and wisdom? Certainly. Indeed, he said, if I had forgotten, I should not deserve to I omitted the troublesome business of the possession of hear more. women, and the procreation of children, and the appointment And do you remember the word of caution which preceded of the rulers, because I knew that the perfect State would be the discussion of them? eyed with jealousy and was difficult of attainment; but that To what do you refer? piece of cleverness was not of much service to me, for I had We were saying, if I am not mistaken, that he who wanted to discuss them all the same. The women and children are to see them in their perfect beauty must take a longer and more 107 circuitous way, at the end of which they would appear; but that Most true, he said. we could add on a popular exposition of them on a level with And those who make pleasure their good are in equal per- the discussion which had preceded. And you replied that such plexity; for they are compelled to admit that there are bad an exposition would be enough for you, and so the enquiry pleasures as well as good. was continued in what to me seemed to be a very inaccurate Certainly. manner; whether you were satisfied or not, it is for you to say. And therefore to acknowledge that bad and good are the Yes, he said, I thought and the others thought that you gave same? us a fair measure of truth. True. But, my friend, I said, a measure of such things which in There can be no doubt about the numerous difficulties in any degree falls short of the whole truth is not fair measure; which this question is involved. for nothing imperfect is the measure of anything, although There can be none. persons are too apt to be contented and think that they need Further, do we not see that many are willing to do or to have search no further. or to seem to be what is just and honourable without the real- Not an uncommon case when people are indolent. ity; but no one is satisfied with the appearance of good Ð the Yes, I said; and there cannot be any worse fault in a reality is what they seek; in the case of the good, appearance guardian of the State and of the laws. is despised by every one. True. Very true, he said. The guardian then, I said, must be required to take the Of this then, which every soul of man pursues and makes longer circuit, and toil at learning as well as at gymnastics, the end of all his actions, having a presentiment that there is or he will never reach the highest knowledge of all which, as such an end, and yet hesitating because neither knowing the we were just now saying, is his proper calling. nature nor having the same assurance of this as of other things, What, he said, is there a knowledge still higher than this Ð and therefore losing whatever good there is in other things, Ð higher than justice and the other virtues? of a principle such and so great as this ought the best men Yes, I said, there is. And of the virtues too we must behold in our State, to whom everything is entrusted, to be in the not the outline merely, as at present Ð nothing short of the most darkness of ignorance? finished picture should satisfy us. When little things are elab- Certainly not, he said. orated with an infinity of pains, in order that they may appear I am sure, I said, that he who does not know now the beau- in their full beauty and utmost clearness, how ridiculous that tiful and the just are likewise good will be but a sorry guardian we should not think the highest truths worthy of attaining the of them; and I suspect that no one who is ignorant of the good highest accuracy! will have a true knowledge of them. A right noble thought; but do you suppose that we shall That, he said, is a shrewd suspicion of yours. refrain from asking you what is this highest knowledge? And if we only have a guardian who has this knowledge our Nay, I said, ask if you will; but I am certain that you have State will be perfectly ordered? heard the answer many times, and now you either do not un- Of course, he replied; but I wish that you would tell me derstand me or, as I rather think, you are disposed to be trou- whether you conceive this supreme principle of the good to be blesome; for you have of been told that the idea of good is knowledge or pleasure, or different from either? the highest knowledge, and that all other things become useful Aye, I said, I knew all along that a fastidious gentleman like and advantageous only by their use of this. You can hardly be you would not be contented with the thoughts of other people ignorant that of this I was about to speak, concerning which, about these matters. as you have often heard me say, we know so little; and, with- True, Socrates; but I must say that one who like you has out which, any other knowledge or possession of any kind passed a lifetime in the study of philosophy should not be al- will profit us nothing. Do you think that the possession of all ways repeating the opinions of others, and never telling his other things is of any value if we do not possess the good? or own. the knowledge of all other things if we have no knowledge of Well, but has any one a right to say positively what he does beauty and goodness? not know? Assuredly not. Not, he said, with the assurance of positive certainty; he has You are further aware that most people affirm pleasure to no right to do that: but he may say what he thinks, as a matter be the good, but the finer sort of wits say it is knowledge? of opinion. Yes. And do you not know, I said, that all mere opinions are bad, And you are aware too that the latter cannot explain what and the best of them blind? You would not deny that those they mean by knowledge, but are obliged after all to say who have any true notion without intelligence are only like knowledge of the good? blind men who feel their way along the road? How ridiculous! Very true. Yes, I said, that they should begin by reproaching us with And do you wish to behold what is blind and crooked and our ignorance of the good, and then presume our knowledge base, when others will tell you of brightness and beauty? of it Ð for the good they define to be knowledge of the good, Still, I must implore you, Socrates, said Glaucon, not to turn just as if we understood them when they use the term “good” away just as you are reaching the goal; if you will only give Ð this is of course ridiculous. such an explanation of the good as you have already given 108 of justice and temperance and the other virtues, we shall be owner of the eyes will see nothing and the colours will be satisfied. invisible. Yes, my friend, and I shall be at least equally satisfied, but Of what nature are you speaking? I cannot help fearing that I shall fail, and that my indiscreet Of that which you term light, I replied. zeal will bring ridicule upon me. No, sweet sirs, let us not at True, he said. present ask what is the actual nature of the good, for to reach Noble, then, is the bond which links together sight and what is now in my thoughts would be an effort too great for visibility, and great beyond other bonds by no small difference me. But of the child of the good who is likest him, I would fain of nature; for light is their bond, and light is no ignoble thing? speak, if I could be sure that you wished to hear Ð otherwise, Nay, he said, the reverse of ignoble. not. And which, I said, of the gods in heaven would you say was By all means, he said, tell us about the child, and you shall the lord of this element? Whose is that light which makes the remain in our debt for the account of the parent. eye to see perfectly and the visible to appear? I do indeed wish, I replied, that I could pay, and you re- You mean the sun, as you and all mankind say. ceive, the account of the parent, and not, as now, of the off- May not the relation of sight to this deity be described as spring only; take, however, this latter by way of interest, and at follows? the same time have a care that I do not render a false account, How? although I have no intention of deceiving you. Neither sight nor the eye in which sight resides is the sun? Yes, we will take all the care that we can: proceed. No. Yes, I said, but I must first come to an understanding with Yet of all the organs of sense the eye is the most like the you, and remind you of what I have mentioned in the course sun? of this discussion, and at many other times. By far the most like. What? And the power which the eye possesses is a sort of effluence The old story, that there is a many beautiful and a many which is dispensed from the sun? good, and so of other things which we describe and define; to Exactly. all of them “many” is applied. Then the sun is not sight, but the author of sight who is True, he said. recognised by sight. And there is an absolute beauty and an absolute good, and True, he said. of other things to which the term “many” is applied there is an And this is he whom I call the child of the good, whom the absolute; for they may be brought under a single idea, which good begat in his own likeness, to be in the visible world, in is called the essence of each. relation to sight and the things of sight, what the good is in the Very true. intellectual world in relation to mind and the things of mind. The many, as we say, are seen but not known, and the ideas Will you be a little more explicit? he said. are known but not seen. Why, you know, I said, that the eyes, when a person directs Exactly. them towards objects on which the light of day is no longer And what is the organ with which we see the visible things? shining, but the moon and stars only, see dimly, and are nearly blind; they seem to have no clearness of vision in them? The sight, he said. Very true. And with the hearing, I said, we hear, and with the other But when they are directed towards objects on which the senses perceive the other objects of sense? sun shines, they see clearly and there is sight in them? True. Certainly. But have you remarked that sight is by far the most costly And the soul is like the eye: when resting upon that on and complex piece of workmanship which the artificer of the which truth and being shine, the soul perceives and under- senses ever contrived? stands and is radiant with intelligence; but when turned to- No, I never have, he said. wards the twilight of becoming and perishing, then she has Then reflect; has the ear or voice need of any third or addi- opinion only, and goes blinking about, and is first of one opin- tional nature in order that the one may be able to hear and the ion and then of another, and seems to have no intelligence? other to be heard? Just so. Nothing of the sort. Now, that which imparts truth to the known and the power No, indeed, I replied; and the same is true of most, if not all, of knowing to the knower is what I would have you term the the other senses Ð you would not say that any of them requires idea of good, and this you will deem to be the cause of sci- such an addition? ence, and of truth in so far as the latter becomes the subject Certainly not. of knowledge; beautiful too, as are both truth and knowledge, But you see that without the addition of some other nature you will be right in esteeming this other nature as more beau- there is no seeing or being seen? tiful than either; and, as in the previous instance, light and How do you mean? sight may be truly said to be like the sun, and yet not to be the Sight being, as I conceive, in the eyes, and he who has eyes sun, so in this other sphere, science and truth may be deemed wanting to see; colour being also present in them, still unless to be like the good, but not the good; the good has a place of there be a third nature specially adapted to the purpose, the honour yet higher. 109

What a wonder of beauty that must be, he said, which is the Thus: Ð There are two subdivisions, in the lower or which author of science and truth, and yet surpasses them in beauty; the soul uses the figures given by the former division as im- for you surely cannot mean to say that pleasure is the good? ages; the enquiry can only be hypothetical, and instead of go- God forbid, I replied; but may I ask you to consider the ing upwards to a principle descends to the other end; in the image in another point of view? higher of the two, the soul passes out of hypotheses, and goes In what point of view? up to a principle which is above hypotheses, making no use You would say, would you not, that the sun is only the au- of images as in the former case, but proceeding only in and thor of visibility in all visible things, but of generation and through the ideas themselves. nourishment and growth, though he himself is not generation? I do not quite understand your meaning, he said. Certainly. Then I will try again; you will understand me better when In like manner the good may be said to be not only the I have made some preliminary remarks. You are aware that author of knowledge to all things known, but of their being students of geometry, arithmetic, and the kindred sciences as- and essence, and yet the good is not essence, but far exceeds sume the odd and the even and the figures and three kinds of essence in dignity and power. angles and the like in their several branches of science; these Glaucon said, with a ludicrous earnestness: By the light of are their hypotheses, which they and everybody are supposed heaven, how amazing! to know, and therefore they do not deign to give any account Yes, I said, and the exaggeration may be set down to you; of them either to themselves or others; but they begin with for you made me utter my fancies. them, and go on until they arrive at last, and in a consistent And pray continue to utter them; at any rate let us hear if manner, at their conclusion? there is anything more to be said about the similitude of the Yes, he said, I know. sun. And do you not know also that although they make use of Yes, I said, there is a great deal more. the visible forms and reason about them, they are thinking not Then omit nothing, however slight. of these, but of the ideals which they resemble; not of the I will do my best, I said; but I should think that a great deal figures which they draw, but of the absolute square and the will have to be omitted. absolute diameter, and so on Ð the forms which they draw or make, and which have shadows and reflections in water of their own, are converted by them into images, but they are 3.4.7. Four Stages of Cognition. The Line really seeking to behold the things themselves, which can only be seen with the eye of the mind? You have to imagine, then, that there are two ruling powers, That is true. and that one of them is set over the intellectual world, the And of this kind I spoke as the intelligible, although in the other over the visible. I do not say heaven, lest you should search after it the soul is compelled to use hypotheses; not fancy that I am playing upon the name (ourhanoz, orhatoz). ascending to a first principle, because she is unable to rise May I suppose that you have this distinction of the visible and above the region of hypothesis, but employing the objects of intelligible fixed in your mind? which the shadows below are resemblances in their turn as Ihave. images, they having in relation to the shadows and reflections Now take a line which has been cut into two unequal parts, of them a greater distinctness, and therefore a higher value. and divide each of them again in the same proportion, and I understand, he said, that you are speaking of the province suppose the two main divisions to answer, one to the visible of geometry and the sister arts. and the other to the intelligible, and then compare the subdi- And when I speak of the other division of the intelligible, visions in respect of their clearness and want of clearness, and you will understand me to speak of that other sort of knowl- you will find that the first section in the sphere of the visi- edge which reason herself attains by the power of dialectic, ble consists of images. And by images I mean, in the first using the hypotheses not as first principles, but only as hy- place, shadows, and in the second place, reflections in water potheses Ð that is to say, as steps and points of departure into and in solid, smooth and polished bodies and the like: Do you a world which is above hypotheses, in order that she may soar understand? beyond them to the first principle of the whole; and clinging Yes, I understand. to this and then to that which depends on this, by successive Imagine, now, the other section, of which this is only the steps she descends again without the aid of any sensible ob- resemblance, to include the animals which we see, and every- ject, from ideas, through ideas, and in ideas she ends. thing that grows or is made. I understand you, he replied; not perfectly, for you seem to Very good. me to be describing a task which is really tremendous; but, Would you not admit that both the sections of this division at any rate, I understand you to say that knowledge and be- have different degrees of truth, and that the copy is to the orig- ing, which the science of dialectic contemplates, are clearer inal as the sphere of opinion is to the sphere of knowledge? than the notions of the arts, as they are termed, which pro- Most undoubtedly. ceed from hypotheses only: these are also contemplated by Next proceed to consider the manner in which the sphere of the understanding, and not by the senses: yet, because they the intellectual is to be divided. start from hypotheses and do not ascend to a principle, those In what manner? who contemplate them appear to you not to exercise the higher 110 reason upon them, although when a first principle is added to And now look again, and see what will naturally follow them they are cognizable by the higher reason. And the habit if the prisoners are released and disabused of their error. At which is concerned with geometry and the cognate sciences I first, when any of them is liberated and compelled suddenly to suppose that you would term understanding and not reason, as stand up and turn his neck round and walk and look towards being intermediate between opinion and reason. the light, he will suffer sharp pains; the glare will distress him, You have quite conceived my meaning, I said; and now, cor- and he will be unable to see the realities of which in his former responding to these four divisions, let there be four faculties state he had seen the shadows; and then conceive some one in the soul Ð reason answering to the highest, understanding saying to him, that what he saw before was an illusion, but to the second, faith (or conviction) to the third, and perception that now, when he is approaching nearer to being and his eye of shadows to the last Ð and let there be a scale of them, and is turned towards more real existence, he has a clearer vision, let us suppose that the several faculties have clearness in the Ð what will be his reply? And you may further imagine that his same degree that their objects have truth. instructor is pointing to the objects as they pass and requiring I understand, he replied, and give my assent, and accept him to name them, Ð will he not be perplexed? Will he not your arrangement. fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now shown to him? Far truer. 3.4.8. The Allegory of the Cave And if he is compelled to look straight at the light, will he not have a pain in his eyes which will make him turn away to take and take in the objects of vision which he can see, and And now, I said, let me show in a figure how far our nature which he will conceive to be in reality clearer than the things is enlightened or unenlightened: Ð Behold! human beings liv- which are now being shown to him? ing in a underground den, which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the den; here they have been from True, he said. their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so that And suppose once more, that he is reluctantly dragged up they cannot move, and can only see before them, being pre- a steep and rugged ascent, and held fast until he’s forced into vented by the chains from turning round their heads. Above the presence of the sun himself, is he not likely to be pained and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and between and irritated? When he approaches the light his eyes will be the fire and the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will dazzled, and he will not be able to see anything at all of what see, if you look, a low wall built along the way, like the screen are now called realities. which marionette players have in front of them, over which Not all in a moment, he said. they show the puppets. He will require to grow accustomed to the sight of the up- I see. per world. And first he will see the shadows best, next the reflections of men and other objects in the water, and then the And do you see, I said, men passing along the wall carrying objects themselves; then he will gaze upon the light of the all sorts of vessels, and statues and figures of animals made of moon and the stars and the spangled heaven; and he will see wood and stone and various materials, which appear over the the sky and the stars by night better than the sun or the light wall? Some of them are talking, others silent. of the sun by day? You have shown me a strange image, and they are strange Certainly. prisoners. Last of he will be able to see the sun, and not mere reflec- Like ourselves, I replied; and they see only their own shad- tions of him in the water, but he will see him in his own proper ows, or the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on place, and not in another; and he will contemplate him as he the opposite wall of the cave? is. True, he said; how could they see anything but the shadows Certainly. if they were never allowed to move their heads? He will then proceed to argue that this is he who gives the And of the objects which are being carried in like manner season and the years, and is the guardian of all that is in the they would only see the shadows? visible world, and in a certain way the cause of all things Yes, he said. which he and his fellows have been accustomed to behold? And if they were able to converse with one another, would Clearly, he said, he would first see the sun and then reason they not suppose that they were naming what was actually about him. before them? And when he remembered his old habitation, and the wis- Very true. dom of the den and his fellow-prisoners, do you not suppose And suppose further that the prison had an echo which that he would felicitate himself on the change, and pity them? came from the other side, would they not be sure to fancy Certainly, he would. when one of the passers-by spoke that the voice which they And if they were in the habit of conferring honours among heard came from the passing shadow? themselves on those who were quickest to observe the pass- No question, he replied. ing shadows and to remark which of them went before, and To them, I said, the truth would be literally nothing but the which followed after, and which were together; and who were shadows of the images. therefore best able to draw conclusions as to the future, do That is certain. you think that he would care for such honours and glories, or 111 envy the possessors of them? Would he not say with Homer, any one whose vision is perplexed and weak, will not be too “Better to be the poor servant of a poor master,” and to en- ready to laugh; he will first ask whether that soul of man has dure anything, rather than think as they do and live after their come out of the brighter light, and is unable to see because manner? unaccustomed to the dark, or having turned from darkness Yes, he said, I think that he would rather suffer anything to the day is dazzled by excess of light. And he will count than entertain these false notions and live in this miserable the one happy in his condition and state of being, and he will manner. pity the other; or, if he have a mind to laugh at the soul which Imagine once more, I said, such an one coming suddenly comes from below into the light, there will be more reason out of the sun to be replaced in his old situation; would he not in this than in the laugh which greets him who returns from be certain to have his eyes full of darkness? above out of the light into the den. To be sure, he said. That, he said, is a very just distinction. And if there were a contest, and he had to compete in mea- But then, if I am right, certain professors of education must suring the shadows with the prisoners who had never moved be wrong when they say that they can put a knowledge into out of the den, while his sight was still weak, and before his the soul which was not there before, like sight into blind eyes. eyes had become steady (and the time which would be needed They undoubtedly say this, he replied. to acquire this new habit of sight might be very considerable) Whereas, our argument shows that the power and capacity would he not be ridiculous? Men would say of him that up of learning exists in the soul already; and that just as the eye he went and down he came without his eyes; and that it was was unable to turn from darkness to light without the whole better not even to think of ascending; and if any one tried to body, so too the instrument of knowledge can only by the loose another and lead him up to the light, let them only catch movement of the whole soul be turned from the world of be- the offender, and they would put him to death. coming into that of being, and learn by degrees to endure the No question, he said. sight of being, and of the brightest and best of being, or in This entire allegory, I said, you may now append, dear other words, of the good. Glaucon, to the previous argument; the prison-house is the Very true. world of sight, the light of the fire is the sun, and you will And must there not be some art which will effect conver- not misapprehend me if you interpret the journey upwards to sion in the easiest and quickest manner; not implanting the be the ascent of the soul into the intellectual world according faculty of sight, for that exists already, but has been turned in to my poor belief, which, at your desire, I have expressed Ð the wrong direction, and is looking away from the truth? whether rightly or wrongly God knows. But, whether true or Yes, he said, such an art may be presumed. false, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea And whereas the other so-called virtues of the soul seem to of good appears last of all, and is seen only with an effort; be akin to bodily qualities, for even when they are not origi- and, when seen, is also inferred to be the universal author of nally innate they can be implanted later by habit and exercise, all things beautiful and right, parent of light and of the lord of the virtue of wisdom more than anything else contains a di- light in this visible world, and the immediate source of reason vine element which always remains, and by this conversion and truth in the intellectual; and that this is the power upon is rendered useful and profitable; or, on the other hand, hurt- which he who would act rationally, either in public or private ful and useless. Did you never observe the narrow intelligence life must have his eye fixed. flashing from the keen eye of a clever rogue Ð how eager he is, I agree, he said, as far as I am able to understand you. how clearly his paltry soul sees the way to his end; he is the re- Moreover, I said, you must not wonder that those who at- verse of blind, but his keen eye-sight is forced into the service tain to this beatific vision are unwilling to descend to human of evil, and he is mischievous in proportion to his cleverness. affairs; for their souls are ever hastening into the upper world Very true, he said. where they desire to dwell; which desire of theirs is very nat- But what if there had been a circumcision of such natures ural, if our allegory may be trusted. in the days of their youth; and they had been severed from Yes, very natural. those sensual pleasures, such as eating and drinking, which, And is there anything surprising in one who passes from like leaden weights, were attached to them at their birth, and divine contemplations to the evil state of man, misbehaving which drag them down and turn the vision of their souls upon himself in a ridiculous manner; if, while his eyes are blink- the things that are below Ð if, I say, they had been released ing and before he has become accustomed to the surrounding from these impediments and turned in the opposite direction, darkness, he is compelled to fight in courts of law, or in other the very same faculty in them would have seen the truth as places, about the images or the shadows of images of justice, keenly as they see what their eyes are turned to now. and is endeavouring to meet the conceptions of those who Very likely. have never yet seen absolute justice? Yes, I said; and there is another thing which is likely, or Anything but surprising, he replied. rather a necessary inference from what has preceded, that nei- Any one who has common sense will remember that the ther the uneducated and uninformed of the truth, nor yet those bewilderments of the eyes are of two kinds, and arise from who never make an end of their education, will be able minis- two causes, either from coming out of the light or from going ters of State; not the former, because they have no single aim into the light, which is true of the mind’s eye, quite as much of duty which is the rule of all their actions, private as well as of the bodily eye; and he who remembers this when he sees as public; nor the latter, because they will not act at all ex- 112 cept upon compulsion, fancying that they are already dwelling be no doubt that every one of them will take office as a stern apart in the Islands of the Blest. necessity, and not after the fashion of our present rulers of Very true, he replied. State. Then, I said, the business of us who are the founders of the Yes, my friend, I said; and there lies the point. You must State will be to compel the best minds to attain that knowledge contrive for your future rulers another and a better life than which we have already shown to be the greatest of all Ð they that of a ruler, and then you may have a well-ordered State; must continue to ascend until they arrive at the good; but for only in the State which offers this, will they rule who are when they have ascended and seen enough we must not allow truly rich, not in silver and gold, but in virtue and wisdom, them to do as they do now. which are the true blessings of life. Whereas if they go to the What do you mean? administration of public affairs, poor and hungering after their I mean that they remain in the upper world: but this must own private advantage, thinking that hence they are to snatch not be allowed; they must be made to descend again among the chief good, order there can never be; for they will be fight- the prisoners in the den, and partake of their labours and hon- ing about office, and the civil and domestic broils which thus ours, whether they are worth having or not. arise will be the ruin of the rulers themselves and of the whole But is not this unjust? he said; ought we to give them a State. worse life, when they might have a better? Most true, he replied. You have again forgotten, my friend, I said, the intention And the only life which looks down upon the life of polit- of the legislator, who did not aim at making any one class ical ambition is that of true philosophy. Do you know of any in the State happy above the rest; the happiness was to be in other? the whole State, and he held the citizens together by persua- Indeed, I do not, he said. sion and necessity, making them benefactors of the State, and And those who govern ought not to be lovers of the task? therefore benefactors of one another; to this end he created For, if they are, there will be rival lovers, and they will fight. them, not to please themselves, but to be his instruments in No question. binding up the State. Who then are those whom we shall compel to be guardians? True, he said, I had forgotten. Surely they will be the men who are wisest about affairs of Observe, Glaucon, that there will be no injustice in com- State, and by whom the State is best administered, and who at pelling our philosophers to have a care and providence of oth- the same time have other honours and another and a better life ers; we shall explain to them that in other States, men of their than that of politics? class are not obliged to share in the toils of politics: and this is They are the men, and I will choose them, he replied. reasonable, for they grow up at their own sweet will, and the government would rather not have them. Being self-taught, they cannot be expected to show any gratitude for a culture 3.4.9. Higher Education which they have never received. But we have brought you into the world to be rulers of the hive, kings of yourselves and of And now shall we consider in what way such guardians will the other citizens, and have educated you far better and more be produced, and how they are to be brought from darkness perfectly than they have been educated, and you are better able to light, Ð as some are said to have ascended from the world to share in the double duty. Wherefore each of you, when his below to the gods? turn comes, must go down to the general underground abode, By all means, he replied. and get the habit of seeing in the dark. When you have ac- The process, I said, is not the turning over of an oyster- quired the habit, you will see ten thousand times better than shell, but the turning round of a soul passing from a day which the inhabitants of the den, and you will know what the several is little better than night to the true day of being, that is, the images are, and what they represent, because you have seen ascent from below, which we affirm to be true philosophy? the beautiful and just and good in their truth. And thus our Quite so. State which is also yours will be a reality, and not a dream And should we not enquire what sort of knowledge has the only, and will be administered in a spirit unlike that of other power of effecting such a change? States, in which men fight with one another about shadows Certainly. only and are distracted in the struggle for power, which in What sort of knowledge is there which would draw the soul their eyes is a great good. Whereas the truth is that the State from becoming to being? And another consideration has just in which the rulers are most reluctant to govern is always the occurred to me: You will remember that our young men are to best and most quietly governed, and the State in which they be warrior athletes? are most eager, the worst. Yes, that was said. Quite true, he replied. Then this new kind of knowledge must have an additional And will our pupils, when they hear this, refuse to take quality? their turn at the toils of State, when they are allowed to spend What quality? the greater part of their time with one another in the heavenly Usefulness in war. light? Yes, if possible. Impossible, he answered; for they are just men, and the There were two parts in our former scheme of education, commands which we impose upon them are just; there can were there not? 113

Just so. have been rightly used; for the true use of it is simply to draw There was gymnastic which presided over the growth and the soul towards being. decay of the body, and may therefore be regarded as having to Will you explain your meaning? he said. do with generation and corruption? I will try, I said; and I wish you would share the enquiry True. with me, and say “yes” or “no” when I attempt to distinguish Then that is not the knowledge which we are seeking to in my own mind what branches of knowledge have this at- discover? tracting power, in order that we may have clearer proof that No. arithmetic is, as I suspect, one of them. But what do you say of music, which also entered to a cer- Explain, he said. tain extent into our former scheme? I mean to say that objects of sense are of two kinds; some of Music, he said, as you will remember, was the counter- them do not invite thought because the sense is an adequate part of gymnastic, and trained the guardians by the influences judge of them; while in the case of other objects sense is so of habit, by harmony making them harmonious, by rhythm untrustworthy that further enquiry is imperatively demanded. rhythmical, but not giving them science; and the words, You are clearly referring, he said, to the manner in which whether fabulous or possibly true, had kindred elements of the senses are imposed upon by distance, and by painting in rhythm and harmony in them. But in music there was nothing light and shade. which tended to that good which you are now seeking. No, I said, that is not at all my meaning. You are most accurate, I said, in your recollection; in music Then what is your meaning? there certainly was nothing of the kind. But what branch of When speaking of uninviting objects, I mean those which knowledge is there, my dear Glaucon, which is of the desired do not pass from one sensation to the opposite; inviting ob- nature; since all the useful arts were reckoned mean by us? jects are those which do; in this latter case the sense coming Undoubtedly; and yet if music and gymnastic are excluded, upon the object, whether at a distance or near, gives no more and the arts are also excluded, what remains? vivid idea of anything in particular than of its opposite. An Well, I said, there may be nothing left of our special sub- illustration will make my meaning clearer: Ð here are three jects; and then we shall have to take something which is not fingers Ð a little finger, a second finger, and a middle finger. special, but of universal application. Very good. What may that be? You may suppose that they are seen quite close: And here A something which all arts and sciences and intelligences comes the point. use in common, and which every one first has to learn among What is it? the elements of education. Each of them equally appears a finger, whether seen in the What is that? middle or at the extremity, whether white or black, or thick or The little matter of distinguishing one, two, and three Ð in thin Ð it makes no difference; a finger is a finger all the same. a word, number and calculation: Ð do not all arts and sciences In these cases a man is not compelled to ask of thought the necessarily partake of them? question what is a finger? for the sight never intimates to the Yes. mind that a finger is other than a finger. Then the art of war partakes of them? True. To the sure. And therefore, I said, as we might expect, there is nothing Then Palamedes, whenever he appears in tragedy, proves here which invites or excites intelligence. Agamemnon ridiculously unfit to be a general. Did you never There is not, he said. remark how he declares that he had invented number, and had But is this equally true of the greatness and smallness of numbered the ships and set in array the ranks of the army at the fingers? Can sight adequately perceive them? and is no Troy; which implies that they had never been numbered be- difference made by the circumstance that one of the fingers is fore, and Agamemnon must be supposed literally to have been in the middle and another at the extremity? And in like man- incapable of counting his own feet Ð how could he if he was ner does the touch adequately perceive the qualities of thick- ignorant of number? And if that is true, what sort of general ness or thinness, of softness or hardness? And so of the other must he have been? senses; do they give perfect intimations of such matters? Is I should say a very strange one, if this was as you say. not their mode of operation on this wise Ð the sense which Can we deny that a warrior should have a knowledge of is concerned with the quality of hardness is necessarily con- arithmetic? cerned also with the quality of softness, and only intimates to Certainly he should, if he is to have the smallest understand- the soul that the same thing is felt to be both hard and soft? ing of military tactics, or indeed, I should rather say, if he is You are quite right, he said. to be a man at all. And must not the soul be perplexed at this intimation which I should like to know whether you have the same notion the sense gives of a hard which is also soft? What, again, is which I have of this study? the meaning of light and heavy, if that which is light is also What is your notion? heavy, and that which is heavy, light? It appears to me to be a study of the kind which we are Yes, he said, these intimations which the soul receives are seeking, and which leads naturally to reflection, but never to very curious and require to be explained. 114

Yes, I said, and in these perplexities the soul naturally sum- That is true. mons to her aid calculation and intelligence, that she may see And our guardian is both warrior and philosopher? whether the several objects announced to her are one or two. Certainly. True. Then this is a kind of knowledge which legislation may fitly And if they turn out to be two, is not each of them one and prescribe; and we must endeavour to persuade those who are different? to be the principal men of our State to go and learn arithmetic, Certainly. not as amateurs, but they must carry on the study until they And if each is one, and both are two, she will conceive the see the nature of numbers with the mind only; nor again, like two as in a state of division, for if they were undivided they merchants or retail-traders, with a view to buying or selling, could only be conceived of as one? but for the sake of their military use, and of the soul herself; True. and because this will be the easiest way for her to pass from The eye certainly did see both small and great, but only in becoming to truth and being. a confused manner; they were not distinguished. That is excellent, he said. Yes. Yes, I said, and now having spoken of it, I must add how Whereas the thinking mind, intending to light up the chaos, charming the science is! and in how many ways it conduces to was compelled to reverse the process, and look at small and our desired end, if pursued in the spirit of a philosopher, and great as separate and not confused. not of a shopkeeper! Very true. How do you mean? Was not this the beginning of the enquiry “What is great?” I mean, as I was saying, that arithmetic has a very great and and “What is small?” elevating effect, compelling the soul to reason about abstract Exactly so. number, and rebelling against the introduction of visible or And thus arose the distinction of the visible and the intelli- tangible objects into the argument. You know how steadily gible. the masters of the art repel and ridicule any one who attempts Most true. to divide absolute unity when he is calculating, and if you This was what I meant when I spoke of impressions which divide, they multiply, taking care that one shall continue one invited the intellect, or the reverse Ð those which are simulta- and not become lost in fractions. neous with opposite impressions, invite thought; those which That is very true. are not simultaneous do not. Now, suppose a person were to say to them: O my friends, I understand, he said, and agree with you. what are these wonderful numbers about which you are rea- And to which class do unity and number belong? soning, in which, as you say, there is a unity such as you de- I do not know, he replied. mand, and each unit is equal, invariable, indivisible, Ð what Think a little and you will see that what has preceded will would they answer? supply the answer; for if simple unity could be adequately They would answer, as I should conceive, that they were perceived by the sight or by any other sense, then, as we speaking of those numbers which can only be realized in were saying in the case of the finger, there would be nothing thought. to attract towards being; but when there is some contradic- Then you see that this knowledge may be truly called nec- tion always present, and one is the reverse of one and involves essary, necessitating as it clearly does the use of the pure in- the conception of plurality, then thought begins to be aroused telligence in the attainment of pure truth? within us, and the soul perplexed and wanting to arrive at a Yes; that is a marked characteristic of it. decision asks “What is absolute unity?” This is the way in And have you further observed, that those who have a nat- which the study of the one has a power of drawing and con- ural talent for calculation are generally quick at every other verting the mind to the contemplation of true being. kind of knowledge; and even the dull, if they have had an And surely, he said, this occurs notably in the case of one; arithmetical training, although they may derive no other ad- for we see the same thing to be both one and infinite in multi- vantage from it, always become much quicker than they would tude? otherwise have been. Yes, I said; and this being true of one must be equally true Very true, he said. of all number? And indeed, you will not easily find a more difficult study, Certainly. and not many as difficult. And all arithmetic and calculation have to do with number? You will not. Yes. And, for all these reasons, arithmetic is a kind of knowledge And they appear to lead the mind towards truth? in which the best natures should be trained, and which must Yes, in a very remarkable manner. not be given up. Then this is knowledge of the kind for which we are seek- I agree. ing, having a double use, military and philosophical; for the Let this then be made one of our subjects of education. And man of war must learn the art of number or he will not know next, shall we enquire whether the kindred science also con- how to array his troops, and the philosopher also, because he cerns us? has to rise out of the sea of change and lay hold of true being, You mean geometry? and therefore he must be an arithmetician. Exactly so. 115

Clearly, he said, we are concerned with that part of geom- studies; and I quite admit the difficulty of believing that in ev- etry which relates to war; for in pitching a camp, or taking ery man there is an eye of the soul which, when by other pur- up a position, or closing or extending the lines of an army, or suits lost and dimmed, is by these purified and re-illumined; any other military manoeuvre, whether in actual battle or on a and is more precious far than ten thousand bodily eyes, for by march, it will make all the difference whether a general is or it alone is truth seen. Now there are two classes of persons: is not a geometrician. one class of those who will agree with you and will take your Yes, I said, but for that purpose a very little of either geom- words as a revelation; another class to whom they will be ut- etry or calculation will be enough; the question relates rather terly unmeaning, and who will naturally deem them to be idle to the greater and more advanced part of geometry Ð whether tales, for they see no sort of profit which is to be obtained from that tends in any degree to make more easy the vision of the them. And therefore you had better decide at once with which idea of good; and thither, as I was saying, all things tend which of the two you are proposing to argue. You will very likely compel the soul to turn her gaze towards that place, where is say with neither, and that your chief aim in carrying on the the full perfection of being, which she ought, by all means, to argument is your own improvement; at the same time you do behold. not grudge to others any benefit which they may receive. True, he said. I think that I should prefer to carry on the argument mainly Then if geometry compels us to view being, it concerns us; on my own behalf. if becoming only, it does not concern us? Then take a step backward, for we have gone wrong in the Yes, that is what we assert. order of the sciences. Yet anybody who has the least acquaintance with geometry What was the mistake? he said. will not deny that such a conception of the science is in flat After plane geometry, I said, we proceeded at once to solids contradiction to the ordinary language of geometricians. in revolution, instead of taking solids in themselves; whereas How so? after the second dimension the third, which is concerned with They have in view practice only, and are always speaking cubes and dimensions of depth, ought to have followed. in a narrow and ridiculous manner, of squaring and extending That is true, Socrates; but so little seems to be known as yet and applying and the like Ð they confuse the necessities of about these subjects. geometry with those of daily life; whereas knowledge is the Why, yes, I said, and for two reasons: Ð in the first place, real object of the whole science. no government patronises them; this leads to a want of energy Certainly, he said. in the pursuit of them, and they are difficult; in the second Then must not a further admission be made? place, students cannot learn them unless they have a director. What admission? But then a director can hardly be found, and even if he could, That the knowledge at which geometry aims is knowledge as matters now stand, the students, who are very conceited, of the eternal, and not of aught perishing and transient. would not attend to him. That, however, would be otherwise That, he replied, may be readily allowed, and is true. if the whole State became the director of these studies and Then, my noble friend, geometry will draw the soul towards gave honour to them; then disciples would want to come, and truth, and create the spirit of philosophy, and raise up that there would be continuous and earnest search, and discoveries which is now unhappily allowed to fall down. would be made; since even now, disregarded as they are by Nothing will be more likely to have such an effect. the world, and maimed of their fair proportions, and although Then nothing should be more sternly laid down than that none of their votaries can tell the use of them, still these stud- the inhabitants of your fair city should by all means learn ge- ies force their way by their natural charm, and very likely, if ometry. Moreover the science has indirect effects, which are they had the help of the State, they would some day emerge not small. into light. Of what kind? he said. Yes, he said, there is a remarkable charm in them. But I There are the military advantages of which you spoke, I do not clearly understand the change in the order. First you said; and in all departments of knowledge, as experience began with a geometry of plane surfaces? proves, any one who has studied geometry is infinitely quicker Yes, I said. of apprehension than one who has not. And you placed astronomy next, and then you made a step Yes indeed, he said, there is an infinite difference between backward? them. Yes, and I have delayed you by my hurry; the ludicrous Then shall we propose this as a second branch of knowledge state of solid geometry, which, in natural order, should have which our youth will study? followed, made me pass over this branch and go on to astron- Let us do so, he replied. omy, or motion of solids. And suppose we make astronomy the third Ð what do you True, he said. say? Then assuming that the science now omitted would come I am strongly inclined to it, he said; the observation of the into existence if encouraged by the State, let us go on to as- seasons and of months and years is as essential to the general tronomy, which will be fourth. as it is to the farmer or sailor. The right order, he replied. And now, Socrates, as you re- I am amused, I said, at your fear of the world, which makes buked the vulgar manner in which I praised astronomy before, you guard against the appearance of insisting upon useless my praise shall be given in your own spirit. For every one, 116 as I think, must see that astronomy compels the soul to look gift of reason to be of any real use. upwards and leads us from this world to another. That, he said, is a work infinitely beyond our present as- Every one but myself, I said; to every one else this may be tronomers. clear, but not to me. Yes, I said; and there are many other things which must also And what then would you say? have a similar extension given to them, if our legislation is to I should rather say that those who elevate astronomy into be of any value. But can you tell me of any other suitable philosophy appear to me to make us look downwards and not study? upwards. No, he said, not without thinking. What do you mean? he asked. Motion, I said, has many forms, and not one only; two You, I replied, have in your mind a truly sublime conception of them are obvious enough even to wits no better than ours; of our knowledge of the things above. And I dare say that if a and there are others, as I imagine, which may be left to wiser person were to throw his head back and study the fretted ceil- persons. ing, you would still think that his mind was the percipient, and But where are the two? not his eyes. And you are very likely right, and I may be a sim- There is a second, I said, which is the counterpart of the one pleton: but, in my opinion, that knowledge only which is of already named. being and of the unseen can make the soul look upwards, and And what may that be? whether a man gapes at the heavens or blinks on the ground, The second, I said, would seem relatively to the ears to be seeking to learn some particular of sense, I would deny that what the first is to the eyes; for I conceive that as the eyes he can learn, for nothing of that sort is matter of science; his are designed to look up at the stars, so are the ears to hear soul is looking downwards, not upwards, whether his way to harmonious motions; and these are sister sciences Ð as the knowledge is by water or by land, whether he floats, or only Pythagoreans say, and we, Glaucon, agree with them? lies on his back. Yes, he replied. I acknowledge, he said, the justice of your rebuke. Still, I But this, I said, is a laborious study, and therefore we had should like to ascertain how astronomy can be learned in any better go and learn of them; and they will tell us whether there manner more conducive to that knowledge of which we are are any other applications of these sciences. At the same time, speaking? we must not lose sight of our own higher object. I will tell you, I said: The starry heaven which we behold What is that? is wrought upon a visible ground, and therefore, although the There is a perfection which all knowledge ought to reach, fairest and most perfect of visible things, must necessarily be and which our pupils ought also to attain, and not to fall short deemed inferior far to the true motions of absolute swiftness of, as I was saying that they did in astronomy. For in the and absolute slowness, which are relative to each other, and science of harmony, as you probably know, the same thing carry with them that which is contained in them, in the true happens. The teachers of harmony compare the sounds and number and in every true figure. Now, these are to be appre- consonances which are heard only, and their labour, like that hended by reason and intelligence, but not by sight. of the astronomers, is in vain. True, he replied. Yes, by heaven! he said; and ’tis as good as a play to hear The spangled heavens should be used as a pattern and with them talking about their condensed notes, as they call them; a view to that higher knowledge; their beauty is like the they put their ears close alongside of the strings like persons beauty of figures or pictures excellently wrought by the hand catching a sound from their neighbour’s wall Ð one set of them of Daedalus, or some other great artist, which we may chance declaring that they distinguish an intermediate note and have to behold; any geometrician who saw them would appreciate found the least interval which should be the unit of measure- the exquisiteness of their workmanship, but he would never ment; the others insisting that the two sounds have passed into dream of thinking that in them he could find the true equal or the same Ð either party setting their ears before their under- the true double, or the truth of any other proportion. standing. No, he replied, such an idea would be ridiculous. You mean, I said, those gentlemen who tease and torture the And will not a true astronomer have the same feeling when strings and rack them on the pegs of the instrument: I might he looks at the movements of the stars? Will he not think that carry on the metaphor and speak after their manner of the heaven and the things in heaven are framed by the Creator of blows which the plectrum gives, and make accusations against them in the most perfect manner? But he will never imagine the strings, both of backwardness and forwardness to sound; that the proportions of night and day, or of both to the month, but this would be tedious, and therefore I will only say that or of the month to the year, or of the stars to these and to these are not the men, and that I am referring to the Pythagore- one another, and any other things that are material and visible ans, of whom I was just now proposing to enquire about har- can also be eternal and subject to no deviation Ð that would mony. For they too are in error, like the astronomers; they be absurd; and it is equally absurd to take so much pains in investigate the numbers of the harmonies which are heard, but investigating their exact truth. they never attain to problems Ð that is to say, they never reach I quite agree, though I never thought of this before. the natural harmonies of number, or reflect why some num- Then, I said, in astronomy, as in geometry, we should em- bers are harmonious and others not. ploy problems, and let the heavens alone if we would ap- That, he said, is a thing of more than mortal knowledge. proach the subject in the right way and so make the natural A thing, I replied, which I would rather call useful; that is, 117 if sought after with a view to the beautiful and good; but if the chief strain, and describe that in like manner. Say, then, pursued in any other spirit, useless. what is the nature and what are the divisions of dialectic, and Very true, he said. what are the paths which lead thither; for these paths will also lead to our final rest. Dear Glaucon, I said, you will not be able to follow me 3.4.10. Dialectic here, though I would do my best, and you should behold not an image only but the absolute truth, according to my notion. Now, when all these studies reach the point of inter- Whether what I told you would or would not have been a real- communion and connection with one another, and come to ity I cannot venture to say; but you would have seen something be considered in their mutual affinities, then, I think, but not like reality; of that I am confident. till then, will the pursuit of them have a value for our objects; Doubtless, he replied. otherwise there is no profit in them. But I must also remind you, that the power of dialectic I suspect so; but you are speaking, Socrates, of a vast work. alone can reveal this, and only to one who is a disciple of What do you mean? I said; the prelude or what? Do you not the previous sciences. know that all this is but the prelude to the actual strain which Of that assertion you may be as confident as of the last. we have to learn? For you surely would not regard the skilled And assuredly no one will argue that there is any other mathematician as a dialectician? method of comprehending by any regular process all true ex- Assuredly not, he said; I have hardly ever known a mathe- istence or of ascertaining what each thing is in its own nature; matician who was capable of reasoning. for the arts in general are concerned with the desires or opin- But do you imagine that men who are unable to give and ions of men, or are cultivated with a view to production and take a reason will have the knowledge which we require of construction, or for the preservation of such productions and them? constructions; and as to the mathematical sciences which, as Neither can this be supposed. we were saying, have some apprehension of true being Ð ge- And so, Glaucon, I said, we have at last arrived at the hymn ometry and the like Ð they only dream about being, but never of dialectic. This is that strain which is of the intellect only, can they behold the waking reality so long as they leave the but which the faculty of sight will nevertheless be found to hypotheses which they use unexamined, and are unable to give imitate; for sight, as you may remember, was imagined by us an account of them. For when a man knows not his own first after a while to behold the real animals and stars, and last of all principle, and when the conclusion and intermediate steps are the sun himself. And so with dialectic; when a person starts on also constructed out of he knows not what, how can he imag- the discovery of the absolute by the light of reason only, and ine that such a fabric of convention can ever become science? without any assistance of sense, and perseveres until by pure Impossible, he said. intelligence he arrives at the perception of the absolute good, Then dialectic, and dialectic alone, goes directly to the first he at last finds himself at the end of the intellectual world, as principle and is the only science which does away with hy- in the case of sight at the end of the visible. potheses in order to make her ground secure; the eye of the Exactly, he said. soul, which is literally buried in an outlandish slough, is Then this is the progress which you call dialectic? by her gentle aid lifted upwards; and she uses as handmaids True. and helpers in the work of conversion, the sciences which we But the release of the prisoners from chains, and their trans- have been discussing. Custom terms them sciences, but they lation from the shadows to the images and to the light, and the ought to have some other name, implying greater clearness ascent from the underground den to the sun, while in his pres- than opinion and less clearness than science: and this, in our ence they are vainly trying to look on animals and plants and previous sketch, was called understanding. But why should the light of the sun, but are able to perceive even with their we dispute about names when we have realities of such im- weak eyes the images in the water (which are divine), and are portance to consider? the shadows of true existence (not shadows of images cast by Why indeed, he said, when any name will do which ex- a light of fire, which compared with the sun is only an im- presses the thought of the mind with clearness? age) Ð this power of elevating the highest principle in the soul At any rate, we are satisfied, as before, to have four divi- to the contemplation of that which is best in existence, with sions; two for intellect and two for opinion, and to call the which we may compare the raising of that faculty which is the first division science, the second understanding, the third very light of the body to the sight of that which is brightest in belief, and the fourth perception of shadows, opinion being the material and visible world Ð this power is given, as I was concerned with becoming, and intellect with being; and so to saying, by all that study and pursuit of the arts which has been make a proportion: Ð As being is to becoming, so is pure in- described. tellect to opinion. And as intellect is to opinion, so is science I agree in what you are saying, he replied, which may be to belief, and understanding to the perception of shadows. But hard to believe, yet, from another point of view, is harder still let us defer the further correlation and subdivision of the sub- to deny. This, however, is not a theme to be treated of in jects of opinion and of intellect, for it will be a long enquiry, passing only, but will have to be discussed again and again. many times longer than this has been. And so, whether our conclusion be true or false, let us assume As far as I understand, he said, I agree. all this, and proceed at once from the prelude or preamble to And do you also agree, I said, in describing the dialectician 118 as one who attains a conception of the essence of each thing? The mistake at present is, that those who study philosophy And he who does not possess and is therefore unable to im- have no vocation, and this, as I was before saying, is the rea- part this conception, in whatever degree he fails, may in that son why she has fallen into disrepute: her true sons should degree also be said to fail in intelligence? Will you admit so take her by the hand and not bastards. much? What do you mean? Yes, he said; how can I deny it? In the first place, her votary should not have a lame or And you would say the same of the conception of the good? halting industry Ð I mean, that he should not be half industri- Until the person is able to abstract and define rationally the ous and half idle: as, for example, when a man is a lover of idea of good, and unless he can run the gauntlet of all objec- gymnastic and hunting, and all other bodily exercises, but a tions, and is ready to disprove them, not by appeals to opinion, hater rather than a lover of the labour of learning or listening but to absolute truth, never faltering at any step of the argu- or enquiring. Or the occupation to which he devotes himself ment Ð unless he can do all this, you would say that he knows may be of an opposite kind, and he may have the other sort of neither the idea of good nor any other good; he apprehends lameness. only a shadow, if anything at all, which is given by opinion Certainly, he said. and not by science; Ð dreaming and slumbering in this life, And as to truth, I said, is not a soul equally to be deemed before he is well awake here, he arrives at the world below, halt and lame which hates voluntary falsehood and is ex- and has his final quietus. tremely indignant at herself and others when they tell lies, but In all that I should most certainly agree with you. is patient of involuntary falsehood, and does not mind wallow- And surely you would not have the children of your ideal ing like a swinish beast in the mire of ignorance, and has no State, whom you are nurturing and educating Ð if the ideal shame at being detected? ever becomes a reality Ð you would not allow the future rulers To be sure. to be like posts, having no reason in them, and yet to be set in And, again, in respect of temperance, courage, magnifi- authority over the highest matters? cence, and every other virtue, should we not carefully distin- Certainly not. guish between the true son and the bastard? for where there Then you will make a law that they shall have such an edu- is no discernment of such qualities States and individuals un- cation as will enable them to attain the greatest skill in asking consciously err and the State makes a ruler, and the individual and answering questions? a friend, of one who, being defective in some part of virtue, is Yes, he said, you and I together will make it. in a figure lame or a bastard. Dialectic, then, as you will agree, is the coping-stone of the That is very true, he said. sciences, and is set over them; no other science can be placed All these things, then, will have to be carefully considered higher Ð the nature of knowledge can no further go? by us; and if only those whom we introduce to this vast sys- I agree, he said. tem of education and training are sound in body and mind, justice herself will have nothing to say against us, and we shall be the saviours of the constitution and of the State; but, if our 3.4.11. Programme of Study pupils are men of another stamp, the reverse will happen, and we shall pour a still greater flood of ridicule on philosophy But to whom we are to assign these studies, and in what than she has to endure at present. way they are to be assigned, are questions which remain to be That would not be creditable. considered. Certainly not, I said; and yet perhaps, in thus turning jest Yes, clearly. into earnest I am equally ridiculous. You remember, I said, how the rulers were chosen before? In what respect? Certainly, he said. I had forgotten, I said, that we were not serious, and spoke The same natures must still be chosen, and the preference with too much excitement. For when I saw philosophy so un- again given to the surest and the bravest, and, if possible, to the deservedly trampled under foot of men I could not help feel- fairest; and, having noble and generous tempers, they should ing a sort of indignation at the authors of her disgrace: and my also have the natural gifts which will facilitate their education. anger made me too vehement. And what are these? Indeed! I was listening, and did not think so. Such gifts as keenness and ready powers of acquisition; for But I, who am the speaker, felt that I was. And now let me the mind more often faints from the severity of study than remind you that, although in our former selection we chose from the severity of gymnastics: the toil is more entirely the old men, we must not do so in this. Solon was under a delusion mind’s own, and is not shared with the body. when he said that a man when he grows old may learn many Very true, he replied. things Ð for he can no more learn much than he can run much; Further, he of whom we are in search should have a good youth is the time for any extraordinary toil. memory, and be an unwearied solid man who is a lover of Of course. labour in any line; or he will never be able to endure the great And, therefore, calculation and geometry and all the other amount of bodily exercise and to go through all the intellectual elements of instruction, which are a preparation for dialectic, discipline and study which we require of him. should be presented to the mind in childhood; not, however, Certainly, he said; he must have natural gifts. under any notion of forcing our system of education. 119

Why not? I want you, I said, by way of parallel, to imagine a supposi- Because a freeman ought not to be a slave in the acquisition titious son who is brought up in great wealth; he is one of a of knowledge of any kind. Bodily exercise, when compulsory, great and numerous family, and has many flatterers. When does no harm to the body; but knowledge which is acquired he grows up to manhood, he learns that his alleged are not his under compulsion obtains no hold on the mind. real parents; but who the real are he is unable to discover. Can Very true. you guess how he will be likely to behave towards his flat- Then, my good friend, I said, do not use compulsion, but terers and his supposed parents, first of all during the period let early education be a sort of amusement; you will then be when he is ignorant of the false relation, and then again when better able to find out the natural bent. he knows? Or shall I guess for you? That is a very rational notion, he said. If you please. Do you remember that the children, too, were to be taken to Then I should say, that while he is ignorant of the truth he see the battle on horseback; and that if there were no danger will be likely to honour his father and his mother and his they were to be brought close up and, like young hounds, have supposed relations more than the flatterers; he will be less in- a taste of blood given them? clined to neglect them when in need, or to do or say anything Yes, I remember. against them; and he will be less willing to disobey them in The same practice may be followed, I said, in all these any important matter. things Ð labours, lessons, dangers Ð and he who is most at He will. home in all of them ought to be enrolled in a select number. But when he has made the discovery, I should imagine that At what age? he would diminish his honour and regard for them, and would At the age when the necessary gymnastics are over: the pe- become more devoted to the flatterers; their influence over him riod whether of two or three years which passes in this sort of would greatly increase; he would now live after their ways, training is useless for any other purpose; for sleep and exer- and openly associate with them, and, unless he were of an cise are unpropitious to learning; and the trial of who is first unusually good disposition, he would trouble himself no more in gymnastic exercises is one of the most important tests to about his supposed parents or other relations. which our youth are subjected. Well, all that is very probable. But how is the image appli- Certainly, he replied. cable to the disciples of philosophy? After that time those who are selected from the class of In this way: you know that there are certain principles about twenty years old will be promoted to higher honour, and the justice and honour, which were taught us in childhood, and sciences which they learned without any order in their early under their parental authority we have been brought up, obey- education will now be brought together, and they will be able ing and honouring them. to see the natural relationship of them to one another and to That is true. true being. There are also opposite maxims and habits of pleasure Yes, he said, that is the only kind of knowledge which takes which flatter and attract the soul, but do not influence those lasting root. of us who have any sense of right, and they continue to obey Yes, I said; and the capacity for such knowledge is the great and honour the maxims of their fathers. criterion of dialectical talent: the comprehensive mind is al- True. ways the dialectical. Now, when a man is in this state, and the questioning spirit I agree with you, he said. asks what is fair or honourable, and he answers as the legis- These, I said, are the points which you must consider; and lator has taught him, and then arguments many and diverse those who have most of this comprehension, and who are refute his words, until he is driven into believing that nothing more steadfast in their learning, and in their military and other is honourable any more than dishonourable, or just and good appointed duties, when they have arrived at the age of thirty any more than the reverse, and so of all the notions which he have to be chosen by you out of the select class, and elevated most valued, do you think that he will still honour and obey to higher honour; and you will have to prove them by the help them as before? of dialectic, in order to learn which of them is able to give up the use of sight and the other senses, and in company with Impossible. truth to attain absolute being: And here, my friend, great cau- And when he ceases to think them honourable and natural tion is required. as heretofore, and he fails to discover the true, can he be Why great caution? expected to pursue any life other than that which flatters his Do you not remark, I said, how great is the evil which desires? dialectic has introduced? He cannot. What evil? he said. And from being a keeper of the law he is converted into a The students of the art are filled with lawlessness. breaker of it? Quite true, he said. Unquestionably. Do you think that there is anything so very unnatural or Now all this is very natural in students of philosophy such inexcusable in their case? or will you make allowance for as I have described, and also, as I was just now saying, most them? excusable. In what way make allowance? Yes, he said; and, I may add, pitiable. 120

Therefore, that your feelings may not be moved to pity You are a sculptor, Socrates, and have made statues of our about our citizens who are now thirty years of age, every care governors faultless in beauty. must be taken in introducing them to dialectic. Yes, I said, Glaucon, and of our governesses too; for you Certainly. must not suppose that what I have been saying applies to men There is a danger lest they should taste the dear delight too only and not to women as far as their natures can go. early; for youngsters, as you may have observed, when they There you are right, he said, since we have made them to first get the taste in their mouths, argue for amusement, and are share in all things like the men. always contradicting and refuting others in imitation of those Well, I said, and you would agree (would you not?) that who refute them; like puppy-dogs, they rejoice in pulling and what has been said about the State and the government is not tearing at all who come near them. a mere dream, and although difficult not impossible, but only Yes, he said, there is nothing which they like better. possible in the way which has been supposed; that is to say, And when they have made many conquests and received de- when the true philosopher kings are born in a State, one or feats at the hands of many, they violently and speedily get into more of them, despising the honours of this present world a way of not believing anything which they believed before, which they deem mean and worthless, esteeming above all and hence, not only they, but philosophy and all that relates to things right and the honour that springs from right, and re- it is apt to have a bad name with the rest of the world. garding justice as the greatest and most necessary of all things, Too true, he said. whose ministers they are, and whose principles will be exalted But when a man begins to get older, he will no longer be by them when they set in order their own city? guilty of such insanity; he will imitate the dialectician who How will they proceed? is seeking for truth, and not the eristic, who is contradicting They will begin by sending out into the country all the for the sake of amusement; and the greater moderation of his inhabitants of the city who are more than ten years old, and character will increase instead of diminishing the honour of will take possession of their children, who will be unaffected the pursuit. by the habits of their parents; these they will train in their own Very true, he said. habits and laws, I mean in the laws which we have given them: And did we not make special provision for this, when we and in this way the State and constitution of which we were said that the disciples of philosophy were to be orderly and speaking will soonest and most easily attain happiness, and steadfast, not, as now, any chance aspirant or intruder? the nation which has such a constitution will gain most. Very true. Yes, that will be the best way. And I think, Socrates, that Suppose, I said, the study of philosophy to take the place of you have very well described how, if ever, such a constitution gymnastics and to be continued diligently and earnestly and might come into being. exclusively for twice the number of years which were passed Enough then of the perfect State, and of the man who bears in bodily exercise Ð will that be enough? its image Ð there is no difficulty in seeing how we shall de- Would you say six or four years? he asked. scribe him. Say five years, I replied; at the end of the time they must There is no difficulty, he replied; and I agree with you in be sent down again into the den and compelled to hold any thinking that nothing more need be said. military or other office which young men are qualified to hold: in this way they will get their experience of life, and there will be an opportunity of trying whether, when they are drawn all 3.5. The Decline of Society and of the Soul. manner of ways by temptation, they will stand firm or flinch. And how long is this stage of their lives to last? 3.5.1. The Fall of the Ideal State. Timocracy and the Fifteen years, I answered; and when they have reached fifty Timocratic Man years of age, then let those who still survive and have distin- guished themselves in every action of their lives and in every And so, Glaucon, we have arrived at the conclusion that branch of knowledge come at last to their consummation; the in the perfect State wives and children are to be in common; time has now arrived at which they must raise the eye of the and that all education and the pursuits of war and peace are soul to the universal light which lightens all things, and be- also to be common, and the best philosophers and the bravest hold the absolute good; for that is the, pattern according to warriors are to be their kings? which they are to order the State and the lives of individuals, That, replied Glaucon, has been acknowledged. and the remainder of their own lives also; making philosophy Yes, I said; and we have further acknowledged that the their chief pursuit, but, when their turn comes, toiling also governors, when appointed themselves, will take their soldiers at politics and ruling for the public good, not as though they and place them in houses such as we were describing, which were performing some heroic action, but simply as a matter of are common to all, and contain nothing private, or individual; duty; and when they have brought up in each generation oth- and about their property, you remember what we agreed? ers like themselves and left them in their place to be governors Yes, I remember that no one was to have any of the ordinary of the State, then they will depart to the Islands of the Blest possessions of mankind; they were to be warrior athletes and and dwell there; and the city will give them public memorials guardians, receiving from the other citizens, in lieu of annual and sacrifices and honour them, if the Pythian oracle consent, payment, only their maintenance, and they were to take care as demi-gods, but if not, as in any case blessed and divine. of themselves and of the whole State. 121

True, I said; and now that this division of our task is con- Then let us now proceed to describe the inferior sort of na- cluded, let us find the point at which we digressed, that we tures, being the contentious and ambitious, who answer to the may return into the old path. Spartan polity; also the oligarchical, democratical, and tyran- There is no difficulty in returning; you implied, then as now, nical. Let us place the most just by the side of the most unjust, that you had finished the description of the State: you said that and when we see them we shall be able to compare the rela- such a State was good, and that the man was good who an- tive happiness or unhappiness of him who leads a life of pure swered to it, although, as now appears, you had more excellent justice or pure injustice. The enquiry will then be completed. things to relate both of State and man. And you said further, And we shall know whether we ought to pursue injustice, as that if this was the true form, then the others were false; and Thrasymachus advises, or in accordance with the conclusions of the false forms, you said, as I remember, that there were of the argument to prefer justice. four principal ones, and that their defects, and the defects of Certainly, he replied, we must do as you say. the individuals corresponding to them, were worth examin- Shall we follow our old plan, which we adopted with a view ing. When we had seen all the individuals, and finally agreed to clearness, of taking the State first and then proceeding to as to who was the best and who was the worst of them, we the individual, and begin with the government of honour? Ð I were to consider whether the best was not also the happiest, know of no name for such a government other than timocracy, and the worst the most miserable. I asked you what were the or perhaps timarchy. We will compare with this the like char- four forms of government of which you spoke, and then Pole- acter in the individual; and, after that, consider oligarchical marchus and Adeimantus put in their word; and you began man; and then again we will turn our attention to democracy again, and have found your way to the point at which we have and the democratical man; and lastly, we will go and view the now arrived. city of tyranny, and once more take a look into the tyrant’s Your recollection, I said, is most exact. soul, and try to arrive at a satisfactory decision. Then, like a wrestler, he replied, you must put yourself That way of viewing and judging of the matter will be very again in the same position; and let me ask the same questions, suitable. and do you give me the same answer which you were about to First, then, I said, let us enquire how timocracy (the govern- give me then. ment of honour) arises out of aristocracy (the government of Yes, if I can, I will, I said. the best). Clearly, all political changes originate in divisions I shall particularly wish to hear what were the four consti- of the actual governing power; a government which is united, tutions of which you were speaking. however small, cannot be moved. That question, I said, is easily answered: the four govern- Very true, he said. ments of which I spoke, so far as they have distinct names, In what way, then, will our city be moved, and in what are, first, those of Crete and Sparta, which are generally ap- manner will the two classes of auxiliaries and rulers disagree plauded; what is termed oligarchy comes next; this is not among themselves or with one another? Shall we, after the equally approved, and is a form of government which teems manner of Homer, pray the Muses to tell us “how discord first with evils: thirdly, democracy, which naturally follows oli- arose”? Shall we imagine them in solemn mockery, to play garchy, although very different: and lastly comes tyranny, and jest with us as if we were children, and to address us in a great and famous, which differs from them all, and is the lofty tragic vein, making believe to be in earnest? fourth and worst disorder of a State. I do not know, do you? How would they address us? of any other constitution which can be said to have a distinct After this manner: Ð A city which is thus constituted can character. There are lordships and principalities which are hardly be shaken; but, seeing that everything which has a be- bought and sold, and some other intermediate forms of gov- ginning has also an end, even a constitution such as yours will ernment. But these are nondescripts and may be found equally not last for ever, but will in time be dissolved. And this is the among Hellenes and among barbarians. dissolution: Ð In plants that grow in the earth, as well as in Yes, he replied, we certainly hear of many curious forms of animals that move on the earth’s surface, fertility and sterility government which exist among them. of soul and body occur when the circumferences of the circles Do you know, I said, that governments vary as the disposi- of each are completed, which in short-lived existences pass tions of men vary, and that there must be as many of the one over a short space, and in long-lived ones over a long space. as there are of the other? For we cannot suppose that States But to the knowledge of human fecundity and sterility all the are made of “oak and rock,” and not out of the human natures wisdom and education of your rulers will not attain; the laws which are in them, and which in a figure turn the scale and which regulate them will not be discovered by an intelligence draw other things after them? which is alloyed with sense, but will escape them, and they Yes, he said, the States are as the men are; they grow out of will bring children into the world when they ought not. Now human characters. that which is of divine birth has a period which is contained Then if the constitutions of States are five, the dispositions in a perfect number, but the period of human birth is compre- of individual minds will also be five? hended in a number in which first increments by involution Certainly. and evolution (or squared and cubed) obtaining three inter- Him who answers to aristocracy, and whom we rightly call vals and four terms of like and unlike, waxing and waning just and good, we have already described. numbers, make all the terms commensurable and agreeable We have. to one another. The base of these (3) with a third added (4) 122 when combined with five (20) and raised to the third power Such will be the change, and after the change has been furnishes two harmonies; the first a square which is a hundred made, how will they proceed? Clearly, the new State, being times as great, in a mean between oligarchy and the perfect State, will partly follow one and partly the other, and will also have some pecu- 400 = 4 × 100 (1) liarities. True, he said. and the other a figure having one side equal to the former, In the honour given to rulers, in the abstinence of the war- but oblong, consisting of a hundred numbers squared upon rior class from agriculture, handicrafts, and trade in general, rational diameters of a square (i. e. omitting fractions), the in the institution of common meals, and in the attention paid side of which is five to gymnastics and military training Ð in all these respects this State will resemble the former. 7 × 7=49× 100 = 4900, (2) True. But in the fear of admitting philosophers to power, because each of them being less by one (than the perfect square which they are no longer to be had simple and earnest, but are made includes the fractions, sc. 50) or less by two perfect squares up of mixed elements; and in turning from them to passionate of irrational diameters (of a square the side of which is five and less complex characters, who are by nature fitted for war = 50 + 50 = 100); and a hundred cubes of three rather than peace; and in the value set by them upon military 27 × 100 = 2700 + 4900 + 400 = 8000. (3) stratagems and contrivances, and in the waging of everlasting wars Ð this State will be for the most part peculiar. Now this number represents a geometrical figure which has Yes. control over the good and evil of births. For when your Yes, I said; and men of this stamp will be covetous of guardians are ignorant of the law of births, and unite bride and money, like those who live in oligarchies; they will have, a bridegroom out of season, the children will not be goodly or fierce secret longing after gold and silver, which they will fortunate. And though only the best of them will be appointed hoard in dark places, having magazines and treasuries of their by their predecessors, still they will be unworthy to hold their own for the deposit and concealment of them; also castles fathers’ places, and when they come into power as guardians, which are just nests for their eggs, and in which they will they will soon be found to fail in taking care of us, the Muses, spend large sums on their wives, or on any others whom they first by under-valuing music; which neglect will soon extend please. to gymnastic; and hence the young men of your State will be That is most true, he said. less cultivated. In the succeeding generation rulers will be ap- And they are miserly because they have no means of openly pointed who have lost the guardian power of testing the metal acquiring the money which they prize; they will spend that of your different races, which, like Hesiod’s, are of gold and which is another man’s on the gratification of their desires, silver and brass and iron. And so iron will be mingled with stealing their pleasures and running away like children from silver, and brass with gold, and hence there will arise dissim- the law, their father: they have been schooled not by gentle ilarity and inequality and irregularity, which always and in all influences but by force, for they have neglected her who is the places are causes of hatred and war. This the Muses affirm to true Muse, the companion of reason and philosophy, and have be the stock from which discord has sprung, wherever arising; honoured gymnastic more than music. and this is their answer to us. Undoubtedly, he said, the form of government which you Yes, and we may assume that they answer truly. describe is a mixture of good and evil. Why, yes, I said, of course they answer truly; how can the Why, there is a mixture, I said; but one thing, and one thing Muses speak falsely? only, is predominantly seen, Ð the spirit of contention and am- And what do the Muses say next? bition; and these are due to the prevalence of the passionate or When discord arose, then the two races were drawn differ- spirited element. ent ways: the iron and brass fell to acquiring money and land Assuredly, he said. and houses and gold and silver; but the gold and silver races, Such is the origin and such the character of this State, which not wanting money but having the true riches in their own na- has been described in outline only; the more perfect execution ture, inclined towards virtue and the ancient order of things. was not required, for a sketch is enough to show the type of There was a battle between them, and at last they agreed to the most perfectly just and most perfectly unjust; and to go distribute their land and houses among individual owners; and through all the States and all the characters of men, omitting they enslaved their friends and maintainers, whom they had none of them, would be an interminable labour. formerly protected in the condition of freemen, and made of Very true, he replied. them subjects and servants; and they themselves were engaged Now what man answers to this form of government Ð how in war and in keeping a watch against them. did he come into being, and what is he like? I believe that you have rightly conceived the origin of the I think, said Adeimantus, that in the spirit of contention change. which characterises him, he is not unlike our friend Glaucon. And the new government which thus arises will be of a form Perhaps, I said, he may be like him in that one point; but intermediate between oligarchy and aristocracy? there are other respects in which he is very different. Very true. In what respects? 123

He should have more of self-assertion and be less culti- is watering and nourishing the rational principle in his soul, vated, and yet a friend of culture; and he should be a good the others are encouraging the passionate and appetitive; and listener, but no speaker. Such a person is apt to be rough with he being not originally of a bad nature, but having kept bad slaves, unlike the educated man, who is too proud for that; and company, is at last brought by their joint influence to a middle he will also be courteous to freemen, and remarkably obedi- point, and gives up the kingdom which is within him to the ent to authority; he is a lover of power and a lover of honour; middle principle of contentiousness and passion, and becomes claiming to be a ruler, not because he is eloquent, or on any arrogant and ambitious. ground of that sort, but because he is a soldier and has per- You seem to me to have described his origin perfectly. formed feats of arms; he is also a lover of gymnastic exercises Then we have now, I said, the second form of government and of the chase. and the second type of character? Yes, that is the type of character which answers to timoc- We have. racy. Such an one will despise riches only when he is young; but as he gets older he will be more and more attracted to them, 3.5.2. Oligarchy (Plutocracy) and the Oligarchic Man because he has a piece of the avaricious nature in him, and is not singleminded towards virtue, having lost his best guardian. Next, let us look at another man who, as Aeschylus says, Who was that? said Adeimantus. “Is set over against another State”; Philosophy, I said, tempered with music, who comes and takes her abode in a man, and is the only saviour of his virtue or rather, as our plan requires, begin with the State. throughout life. By all means. Good, he said. I believe that oligarchy follows next in order. Such, I said, is the timocratical youth, and he is like the And what manner of government do you term oligarchy? timocratical State. A government resting on a valuation of property, in which Exactly. the rich have power and the poor man is deprived of it. His origin is as follows: Ð He is often the young son of a I understand, he replied. brave father, who dwells in an ill-governed city, of which he Ought I not to begin by describing how the change from declines the honours and offices, and will not go to law, or timocracy to oligarchy arises? exert himself in any way, but is ready to waive his rights in Yes. order that he may escape trouble. Well, I said, no eyes are required in order to see how the And how does the son come into being? one passes into the other. The character of the son begins to develop when he hears How? his mother complaining that her husband has no place in The accumulation of gold in the treasury of private indi- the government, of which the consequence is that she has no viduals is the ruin of timocracy; they invent illegal modes of precedence among other women. Further, when she sees her expenditure; for what do they or their wives care about the husband not very eager about money, and instead of battling law? and railing in the law courts or assembly, taking whatever hap- Yes, indeed. pens to him quietly; and when she observes that his thoughts And then one, seeing another grow rich, seeks to rival always centre in himself, while he treats her with very consid- him, and thus the great mass of the citizens become lovers erable indifference, she is annoyed, and says to her son that of money. his father is only half a man and far too easy-going: adding Likely enough. all the other complaints about her own ill-treatment which And so they grow richer and richer, and the more they think women are so fond of rehearsing. of making a fortune the less they think of virtue; for when Yes, said Adeimantus, they give us plenty of them, and their riches and virtue are placed together in the scales of the bal- complaints are so like themselves. ance, the one always rises as the other falls. And you know, I said, that the old servants also, who are True. supposed to be attached to the family, from time to time talk And in proportion as riches and rich men are honoured in privately in the same strain to the son; and if they see any one the State, virtue and the virtuous are dishonoured. who owes money to his father, or is wronging him in any way, Clearly. and he fails to prosecute them, they tell the youth that when And what is honoured is cultivated, and that which has no he grows up he must retaliate upon people of this sort, and be honour is neglected. more of a man than his father. He has only to walk abroad and That is obvious. he hears and sees the same sort of thing: those who do their And so at last, instead of loving contention and glory, men own business in the city are called simpletons, and held in no become lovers of trade and money; they honour and look up esteem, while the busy-bodies are honoured and applauded. to the rich man, and make a ruler of him, and dishonour the The result is that the young man, hearing and seeing all these poor man. things Ð hearing, too, the words of his father, and having a They do so. nearer view of his way of life, and making comparisons of They next proceed to make a law which fixes a sum of him and others Ð is drawn opposite ways: while his father money as the qualification of citizenship; the sum is higher 124 in one place and lower in another, as the oligarchy is more member of the ruling body, although in truth he was neither or less exclusive; and they allow no one whose property falls ruler nor subject, but just a spendthrift? below the amount fixed to have any share in the government. As you say, he seemed to be a ruler, but was only a These changes in the constitution they effect by force of arms, spendthrift. if intimidation has not already done their work. May we not say that this is the drone in the house who is Very true. like the drone in the honeycomb, and that the one is the plague And this, speaking generally, is the way in which oligarchy of the city as the other is of the hive? is established. Just so, Socrates. Yes, he said; but what are the characteristics of this form And God has made the flying drones, Adeimantus, all with- of government, and what are the defects of which we were out stings, whereas of the walking drones he has made some speaking? without stings but others have dreadful stings; of the stingless First of all, I said, consider the nature of the qualification. class are those who in their old age end as paupers; of the Just think what would happen if pilots were to be chosen ac- stingers come all the criminal class, as they are termed. cording to their property, and a poor man were refused per- Most true, he said. mission to steer, even though he were a better pilot? Clearly then, whenever you see paupers in a State, some- You mean that they would shipwreck? where in that neighborhood there are hidden away thieves, and Yes; and is not this true of the government of anything? cut-purses and robbers of temples, and all sorts of malefactors. I should imagine so. Clearly. Except a city? Ð or would you include a city? Well, I said, and in oligarchical States do you not find pau- Nay, he said, the case of a city is the strongest of all, inas- pers? much as the rule of a city is the greatest and most difficult of Yes, he said; nearly everybody is a pauper who is not a ruler. all. And may we be so bold as to affirm that there are also This, then, will be the first great defect of oligarchy? many criminals to be found in them, rogues who have stings, Clearly. and whom the authorities are careful to restrain by force? And here is another defect which is quite as bad. Certainly, we may be so bold. What defect? The existence of such persons is to be attributed to want of The inevitable division: such a State is not one, but two education, ill-training, and an evil constitution of the State? States, the one of poor, the other of rich men; and they are True. living on the same spot and always conspiring against one an- Such, then, is the form and such are the evils of oligarchy; other. and there may be many other evils. That, surely, is at least as bad. Very likely. Another discreditable feature is, that, for a like reason, they Then oligarchy, or the form of government in which the are incapable of carrying on any war. Either they arm the rulers are elected for their wealth, may now be dismissed. Let multitude, and then they are more afraid of them than of the us next proceed to consider the nature and origin of the indi- enemy; or, if they do not call them out in the hour of battle, vidual who answers to this State. they are oligarchs indeed, few to fight as they are few to rule. By all means. And at the same time their fondness for money makes them Does not the timocratical man change into the oligarchical unwilling to pay taxes. on this wise? How discreditable! How? And, as we said before, under such a constitution the A time arrives when the representative of timocracy has a same persons have too many callings Ð they are husbandmen, son: at first he begins by emulating his father and walking in tradesmen, warriors, all in one. Does that look well? his footsteps, but presently he sees him of a sudden founder- Anything but well. ing against the State as upon a sunken reef, and he and all that There is another evil which is, perhaps, the greatest of all, he has is lost; he may have been a general or some other high and to which this State first begins to be liable. officer who is brought to trial under a prejudice raised by in- What evil? formers, and either put to death, or exiled, or deprived of the A man may sell all that he has, and another may acquire his privileges of a citizen, and all his property taken from him. property; yet after the sale he may dwell in the city of which Nothing more likely. he is no longer a part, being neither trader, nor artisan, nor And the son has seen and known all this Ð he is a ruined horseman, nor hoplite, but only a poor, helpless creature. man, and his fear has taught him to knock ambition and pas- Yes, that is an evil which also first begins in this State. sion head foremost from his bosom’s throne; humbled by The evil is certainly not prevented there; for oligarchies poverty he takes to money-making and by mean and miserly have both the extremes of great wealth and utter poverty. savings and hard work gets a fortune together. Is not such an True. one likely to seat the concupiscent and covetous element on But think again: In his wealthy days, while he was spending the vacant throne and to suffer it to play the great king within his money, was a man of this sort a whit more good to the State him, girt with tiara and chain and scimitar? for the purposes of citizenship? Or did he only seem to be a Most true, he replied. 125

And when he has made reason and spirit sit down on the True. ground obediently on either side of their sovereign, and taught For these reasons such an one will be more respectable than them to know their place, he compels the one to think only most people; yet the true virtue of a unanimous and harmo- of how lesser sums may be turned into larger ones, and will nious soul will flee far away and never come near him. not allow the other to worship and admire anything but riches I should expect so. and rich men, or to be ambitious of anything so much as the And surely, the miser individually will be an ignoble com- acquisition of wealth and the means of acquiring it. petitor in a State for any prize of victory, or other object of Of all changes, he said, there is none so speedy or so sure as honourable ambition; he will not spend his money in the con- the conversion of the ambitious youth into the avaricious one. test for glory; so afraid is he of awakening his expensive ap- And the avaricious, I said, is the oligarchical youth? petites and inviting them to help and join in the struggle; in Yes, he said; at any rate the individual out of whom he came true oligarchical fashion he fights with a small part only of his is like the State out of which oligarchy came. resources, and the result commonly is that he loses the prize Let us then consider whether there is any likeness between and saves his money. them. Very true. Very good. Can we any longer doubt, then, that the miser and money- First, then, they resemble one another in the value which maker answers to the oligarchical State? they set upon wealth? There can be no doubt. Certainly. Also in their penurious, laborious character; the individual only satisfies his necessary appetites, and confines his expen- 3.5.3. Democracy and the Democratic Man diture to them; his other desires he subdues, under the idea that they are unprofitable. Next comes democracy; of this the origin and nature have True. still to be considered by us; and then we will enquire into the He is a shabby fellow, who saves something out of every- ways of the democratic man, and bring him up for judgement. thing and makes a purse for himself; and this is the sort of man whom the vulgar applaud. Is he not a true image of the That, he said, is our method. State which he represents? Well, I said, and how does the change from oligarchy into He appears to me to be so; at any rate money is highly val- democracy arise? Is it not on this wise? Ð The good at which ued by him as well as by the State. such a State aims is to become as rich as possible, a desire You see that he is not a man of cultivation, I said. which is insatiable? I imagine not, he said; had he been educated he would never What then? have made a blind god director of his chorus, or given him The rulers, being aware that their power rests upon their chief honour. wealth, refuse to curtail by law the extravagance of the Excellent! I said. Yet consider: Must we not further ad- spendthrift youth because they gain by their ruin; they take mit that owing to this want of cultivation there will be found interest from them and buy up their estates and thus increase in him drone-like desires as of pauper and rogue, which are their own wealth and importance? forcibly kept down by his general habit of life? To be sure. True. There can be no doubt that the love of wealth and the spirit Do you know where you will have to look if you want to of moderation cannot exist together in citizens of the same discover his rogueries? State to any considerable extent; one or the other will be dis- Where must I look? regarded. You should see him where he has some great opportunity That is tolerably clear. of acting dishonestly, as in the guardianship of an orphan. And in oligarchical States, from the general spread of care- Aye. lessness and extravagance, men of good family have often It will be clear enough then that in his ordinary dealings been reduced to beggary? which give him a reputation for honesty he coerces his bad Yes, often. passions by an enforced virtue; not making them see that they And still they remain in the city; there they are, ready are wrong, or taming them by reason, but by necessity and to sting and fully armed, and some of them owe money, fear constraining them, and because he trembles for his pos- some have forfeited their citizenship; a third class are in both sessions. predicaments; and they hate and conspire against those who To be sure. have got their property, and against everybody else, and are Yes, indeed, my dear friends, but you will find that the nat- eager for revolution. ural desires of the drone commonly exist in him all the same That is true. whenever he has to spend what is not his own. On the other hand, the men of business, stooping as they Yes, and they will be strong in him too. walk, and pretending not even to see those whom they have The man, then, will be at war with himself; he will be two already ruined, insert their sting Ð that is, their money Ð into men, and not one; but, in general, his better desires will be some one else who is not on his guard against them, and re- found to prevail over his inferior ones. cover the parent sum many times over multiplied into a family 126 of children: and so they make drone and pauper to abound in And now what is their manner of life, and what sort of a the State. government have they? for as the government is, such will be Yes, he said, there are plenty of them Ð that is certain. the man. The evil blazes up like a fire; and they will not extinguish Clearly, he said. it, either by restricting a man’s use of his own property, or by In the first place, are they not free; and is not the city full of another remedy: freedom and frankness Ð a man may say and do what he likes? What other? ’Tis said so, he replied. One which is the next best, and has the advantage of com- And where freedom is, the individual is clearly able to order pelling the citizens to look to their characters: Ð Let there be for himself his own life as he pleases? a general rule that every one shall enter into voluntary con- Clearly. tracts at his own risk, and there will be less of this scandalous Then in this kind of State there will be the greatest variety money-making, and the evils of which we were speaking will of human natures? be greatly lessened in the State. There will. Yes, they will be greatly lessened. This, then, seems likely to be the fairest of States, being At present the governors, induced by the motives which I like an embroidered robe which is spangled with every sort have named, treat their subjects badly; while they and their of flower. And just as women and children think a variety of adherents, especially the young men of the governing class, colours to be of all things most charming, so there are many are habituated to lead a life of luxury and idleness both of men to whom this State, which is spangled with the manners body and mind; they do nothing, and are incapable of resist- and characters of mankind, will appear to be the fairest of ing either pleasure or pain. States. Very true. Yes. They themselves care only for making money, and are as Yes, my good Sir, and there will be no better in which to indifferent as the pauper to the cultivation of virtue. look for a government. Yes, quite as indifferent. Why? Such is the state of affairs which prevails among them. And Because of the liberty which reigns there Ð they have a com- often rulers and their subjects may come in one another’s way, plete assortment of constitutions; and he who has a mind to whether on a pilgrimage or a march, as fellow-soldiers or establish a State, as we have been doing, must go to a democ- fellow-sailors; aye and they may observe the behaviour of racy as he would to a bazaar at which they sell them, and pick each other in the very moment of danger Ð for where danger out the one that suits him; then, when he has made his choice, is, there is no fear that the poor will be despised by the rich he may found his State. Ð and very likely the wiry sunburnt poor man may be placed He will be sure to have patterns enough. in battle at the side of a wealthy one who has never spoilt And there being no necessity, I said, for you to govern in his complexion and has plenty of superfluous flesh Ð when this State, even if you have the capacity, or to be governed, he sees such an one puffing and at his wit’s end, how can he unless you like, or go to war when the rest go to war, or to be avoid drawing the conclusion that men like him are only rich at peace when others are at peace, unless you are so disposed because no one has the courage to despoil them? And when Ð there being no necessity also, because some law forbids you they meet in private will not people be saying to one another to hold office or be a dicast, that you should not hold office “Our warriors are not good for much”? or be a dicast, if you have a fancy Ð is not this a way of life Yes, he said, I am quite aware that this is their way of talk- which for the moment is supremely delightful? ing. For the moment, yes. And, as in a body which is diseased the addition of a touch And is not their humanity to the condemned in some cases from without may bring on illness, and sometimes even when quite charming? Have you not observed how, in a democracy, there is no external provocation a commotion may arise within many persons, although they have been sentenced to death or Ð in the same way wherever there is weakness in the State exile, just stay where they are and walk about the world Ð the there is also likely to be illness, of which the occasions may gentleman parades like a hero, and nobody sees or cares? be very slight, the one party introducing from without their Yes, he replied, many and many a one. oligarchical, the other their democratical allies, and then the See too, I said, the forgiving spirit of democracy, and the State falls sick, and is at war with herself; and may be at times “don’t care” about trifles, and the disregard which she shows distracted, even when there is no external cause. of all the fine principles which we solemnly laid down at the Yes, surely. foundation of the city Ð as when we said that, except in the And then democracy comes into being after the poor have case of some rarely gifted nature, there never will be a good conquered their opponents, slaughtering some and banishing man who has not from his childhood been used to play amid some, while to the remainder they give an equal share of free- things of beauty and make of them a joy and a study Ð how dom and power; and this is the form of government in which grandly does she trample all these fine notions of ours under the magistrates are commonly elected by lot. her feet, never giving a thought to the pursuits which make a Yes, he said, that is the nature of democracy, whether the statesman, and promoting to honour any one who professes revolution has been effected by arms, or whether fear has to be the people’s friend. caused the opposite party to withdraw. Yes, she is of a noble spirit. 127

These and other kindred characteristics are proper to And the drone of whom we spoke was he who has surfeited democracy, which is a charming form of government, full in pleasures and desires of this sort, and was the slave of the of variety and disorder, and dispensing a sort of equality to unnecessary desires, whereas he who was subject to the nec- equals and unequals alike. essary only was miserly and oligarchical? We know her well. Very true. Consider now, I said, what manner of man the individual is, Again, let us see how the democratical man grows out of or rather consider, as in the case of the State, how he comes the oligarchical: the following, as I suspect, is commonly the into being. process. Very good, he said. What is the process? Is not this the way Ð he is the son of the miserly and oli- When a young man who has been brought up as we were garchical father who has trained him in his own habits? just now describing, in a vulgar and miserly way, has tasted Exactly. drones’ honey and has come to associate with fierce and crafty And, like his father, he keeps under by force the pleasures natures who are able to provide for him all sorts of refine- which are of the spending and not of the getting sort, being ments and varieties of pleasure Ð then, as you may imagine, those which are called unnecessary? the change will begin of the oligarchical principle within him Obviously. into the democratical? Would you like, for the sake of clearness, to distinguish Inevitably. which are the necessary and which are the unnecessary plea- And as in the city like was helping like, and the change was sures? effected by an alliance from without assisting one division of I should. the citizens, so too the young man is changed by a class of Are not necessary pleasures those of which we cannot get desires coming from without to assist the desires within him, rid, and of which the satisfaction is a benefit to us? And they that which is akin and alike again helping that which is akin are rightly so, because we are framed by nature to desire both and alike? what is beneficial and what is necessary, and cannot help it. Certainly. True. And if there be any ally which aids the oligarchical princi- We are not wrong therefore in calling them necessary? ple within him, whether the influence of a father or of kindred, We are not. advising or rebuking him, then there arises in his soul a faction And the desires of which a man may get rid, if he takes and an opposite faction, and he goes to war with himself. pains from his youth upwards Ð of which the presence, more- It must be so. over, does no good, and in some cases the reverse of good Ð And there are times when the democratical principle gives shall we not be right in saying that all these are unnecessary? way to the oligarchical, and some of his desires die, and others Yes, certainly. are banished; a spirit of reverence enters into the young man’s Suppose we select an example of either kind, in order that soul and order is restored. we may have a general notion of them? Yes, he said, that sometimes happens. Very good. And then, again, after the old desires have been driven out, Will not the desire of eating, that is, of simple food and fresh ones spring up, which are akin to them, and because he, condiments, in so far as they are required for health and their father, does not know how to educate them, wax fierce strength, be of the necessary class? and numerous. That is what I should suppose. Yes, he said, that is apt to be the way. The pleasure of eating is necessary in two ways; it does us They draw him to his old associates, and holding secret in- good and it is essential to the continuance of life? tercourse with them, breed and multiply in him. Yes. Very true. But the condiments are only necessary in so far as they are At length they seize upon the citadel of the young man’s good for health? soul, which they perceive to be void of all accomplishments Certainly. and fair pursuits and true words, which make their abode in And the desire which goes beyond this, of more delicate the minds of men who are dear to the gods, and are their best food, or other luxuries, which might generally be got rid of, if guardians and sentinels. controlled and trained in youth, and is hurtful to the body, and None better. hurtful to the soul in the pursuit of wisdom and virtue, may False and boastful conceits and phrases mount upwards and be rightly called unnecessary? take their place. Very true. They are certain to do so. May we not say that these desires spend, and that the others And so the young man returns into the country of the lotus- make money because they conduce to production? eaters, and takes up his dwelling there in the face of all men; Certainly. and if any help be sent by his friends to the oligarchical part And of the pleasures of love, and all other pleasures, the of him, the aforesaid vain conceits shut the gate of the king’s same holds good? fastness; and they will neither allow the embassy itself to True. enter, nor if private advisers offer the fatherly counsel of the 128 aged will they listen to them or receive them. There is a bat- tion and many an example of manners is contained in him. tle and they gain the day, and then modesty, which they call Just so. silliness, is ignominiously thrust into exile by them, and tem- Let him then be set over against democracy; he may truly perance, which they nickname unmanliness, is trampled in the be called the democratic man. mire and cast forth; they persuade men that moderation and Let that be his place, he said. orderly expenditure are vulgarity and meanness, and so, by the help of a rabble of evil appetites, they drive them beyond the border. 3.5.4. Despotism and the Despotic Man Yes, with a will. And when they have emptied and swept clean the soul of Last of all comes the most beautiful of all, man and State him who is now in their power and who is being initiated by alike, tyranny and the tyrant; these we have now to consider. them in great mysteries, the next thing is to bring back to Quite true, he said. their house insolence and anarchy and waste and impudence in Say then, my friend, in what manner does tyranny arise? Ð bright array having garlands on their heads, and a great com- that it has a democratic origin is evident. pany with them, hymning their praises and calling them by Clearly. sweet names; insolence they term breeding, and anarchy lib- And does not tyranny spring from democracy in the same erty, and waste magnificence, and impudence courage. And manner as democracy from oligarchy Ð I mean, after a sort? so the young man passes out of his original nature, which was How? trained in the school of necessity, into the freedom and liber- The good which oligarchy proposed to itself and the means tinism of useless and unnecessary pleasures. by which it was maintained was excess of wealth Ð am I not Yes, he said, the change in him is visible enough. right? After this he lives on, spending his money and labour and Yes. time on unnecessary pleasures quite as much as on necessary And the insatiable desire of wealth and the neglect of all ones; but if he be fortunate, and is not too much disordered in other things for the sake of money-getting was also the ruin of his wits, when years have elapsed, and the heyday of passion oligarchy? is over Ð supposing that he then re-admits into the city some True. part of the exiled virtues, and does not wholly give himself And democracy has her own good, of which the insatiable up to their successors Ð in that case he balances his pleasures desire brings her to dissolution? and lives in a sort of equilibrium, putting the government of What good? himself into the hands of the one which comes first and wins Freedom, I replied; which, as they tell you in a democracy, the turn; and when he has had enough of that, then into the is the glory of the State Ð and that therefore in a democracy hands of another; he despises none of them but encourages alone will the freeman of nature deign to dwell. them all equally. Yes; the saying is in everybody’s mouth. Very true, he said. I was going to observe, that the insatiable desire of this and Neither does he receive or let pass into the fortress any true the neglect of other things introduces the change in democ- word of advice; if any one says to him that some pleasures racy, which occasions a demand for tyranny. are the satisfactions of good and noble desires, and others of How so? evil desires, and that he ought to use and honour some and When a democracy which is thirsting for freedom has evil chastise and master the others Ð whenever this is repeated to cup-bearers presiding over the feast, and has drunk too deeply him he shakes his head and says that they are all alike, and of the strong wine of freedom, then, unless her rulers are very that one is as good as another. amenable and give a plentiful draught, she calls them to ac- Yes, he said; that is the way with him. count and punishes them, and says that they are cursed oli- Yes, I said, he lives from day to day indulging the appetite garchs. of the hour; and sometimes he is lapped in drink and strains Yes, he replied, a very common occurrence. of the flute; then he becomes a water-drinker, and tries to get Yes, I said; and loyal citizens are insultingly termed by her thin; then he takes a turn at gymnastics; sometimes idling slaves who hug their chains and men of naught; she would and neglecting everything, then once more living the life of have subjects who are like rulers, and rulers who are like sub- a philosopher; often he is busy with politics, and starts to his jects: these are men after her own heart, whom she praises and feet and says and does whatever comes into his head; and, honours both in private and public. Now, in such a State, can if he is emulous of any one who is a warrior, off he is in that liberty have any limit? direction, or of men of business, once more in that. His life has Certainly not. neither law nor order; and this distracted existence he terms By degrees the anarchy finds a way into private houses, and joy and bliss and freedom; and so he goes on. ends by getting among the animals and infecting them. Yes, he replied, he is all liberty and equality. How do you mean? Yes, I said; his life is motley and manifold and an epitome I mean that the father grows accustomed to descend to the of the lives of many; Ð he answers to the State which we de- level of his sons and to fear them, and the son is on a level scribed as fair and spangled. And many a man and many a with his father, he having no respect or reverence for either of woman will take him for their pattern, and many a constitu- his parents; and this is his freedom, and metic is equal with 129 the citizen and the citizen with the metic, and the stranger is Well, I said, I meant to refer to the class of idle spendthrifts, quite as good as either. of whom the more courageous are the leaders and the more Yes, he said, that is the way. timid the followers, the same whom we were comparing to And these are not the only evils, I said Ð there are several drones, some stingless, and others having stings. lesser ones: In such a state of society the master fears and A very just comparison. flatters his scholars, and the scholars despise their masters and These two classes are the plagues of every city in which tutors; young and old are all alike; and the young man is on a they are generated, being what phlegm and bile are to the level with the old, and is ready to compete with him in word body. And the good physician and lawgiver of the State or deed; and old men condescend to the young and are full ought, like the wise bee-master, to keep them at a distance of pleasantry and gaiety; they are lothe to be thought morose and prevent, if possible, their ever coming in; and if they have and authoritative, and therefore they adopt the manners of the anyhow found a way in, then he should have them and their young. cells cut out as speedily as possible. Quite true, he said. Yes, by all means, he said. The last extreme of popular liberty is when the slave bought Then, in order that we may see clearly what we are doing, with money, whether male or female, is just as free as his let us imagine democracy to be divided, as indeed it is, into or her purchaser; nor must I forget to tell of the liberty and three classes; for in the first place freedom creates rather more equality of the two sexes in relation to each other. drones in the democratic than there were in the oligarchical Why not, as Aeschylus says, utter the word which rises to State. our lips? That is true. That is what I am doing, I replied; and I must add that no And in the democracy they are certainly more intensified. one who does not know would believe, how much greater is How so? the liberty which the animals who are under the dominion of Because in the oligarchical State they are disqualified and man have in a democracy than in any other State: for truly, driven from office, and therefore they cannot train or gather the she-dogs, as the proverb says, are as good as their she- strength; whereas in a democracy they are almost the entire mistresses, and the horses and asses have a way of marching ruling power, and while the keener sort speak and act, the rest along with all the rights and dignities of freemen; and they keep buzzing about the bema and do not suffer a word to be will run at anybody who comes in their way if he does not said on the other side; hence in democracies almost everything leave the road clear for them: and all things are just ready to is managed by the drones. burst with liberty. Very true, he said. When I take a country walk, he said, I often experience Then there is another class which is always being severed what you describe. You and I have dreamed the same thing. from the mass. And above all, I said, and as the result of all, see how sen- What is that? sitive the citizens become; they chafe impatiently at the least touch of authority and at length, as you know, they cease to They are the orderly class, which in a nation of traders sure care even for the laws, written or unwritten; they will have no to be the richest. one over them. Naturally so. Yes, he said, I know it too well. They are the most squeezable persons and yield the largest Such, my friend, I said, is the fair and glorious beginning amount of honey to the drones. out of which springs tyranny. Why, he said, there is little to be squeezed out of people Glorious indeed, he said. But what is the next step? who have little. The ruin of oligarchy is the ruin of democracy; the And this is called the wealthy class, and the drones feed same disease magnified and intensified by liberty overmas- upon them. ters democracy Ð the truth being that the excessive increase of That is pretty much the case, he said. anything often causes a reaction in the opposite direction; and The people are a third class, consisting of those who work this is the case not only in the seasons and in vegetable and with their own hands; they are not politicians, and have not animal life, but above all in forms of government. much to live upon. This, when assembled, is the largest and True. most powerful class in a democracy. The excess of liberty, whether in States or individuals, True, he said; but then the multitude is seldom willing to seems only to pass into excess of slavery. congregate unless they get a little honey. Yes, the natural order. And do they not share? I said. Do not their leaders deprive And so tyranny naturally arises out of democracy, and the the rich of their estates and distribute them among the peo- most aggravated form of tyranny and slavery out of the most ple; at the same time taking care to reserve the larger part for extreme form of liberty? themselves? As we might expect. Why, yes, he said, to that extent the people do share. That, however, was not, as I believe, your question Ð you And the persons whose property is taken from them are rather desired to know what is that disorder which is gener- compelled to defend themselves before the people as they best ated alike in oligarchy and democracy, and is the ruin of both? can? Just so, he replied. What else can they do? 130

And then, although they may have no desire of change, the And when a man who is wealthy and is also accused of others charge them with plotting against the people and being being an enemy of the people sees this, then, my friend, as friends of oligarchy? the oracle said to Croesus, “By pebbly Hermus’ shore he flees True. and rests not and is not ashamed to be a coward.” And quite And the end is that when they see the people, not of their right too, said he, for if he were, he would never be ashamed own accord, but through ignorance, and because they are de- again. ceived by informers, seeking to do them wrong, then at last But if he is caught he dies. they are forced to become oligarchs in reality; they do not Of course. wish to be, but the sting of the drones torments them and And he, the protector of whom we spoke, is to be seen, not breeds revolution in them. “larding the plain” with his bulk, but himself the overthrower That is exactly the truth. of many, standing up in the chariot of State with the reins in Then come impeachments and judgments and trials of one his hand, no longer protector, but tyrant absolute. another. No doubt, he said. True. And now let us consider the happiness of the man, and also The people have always some champion whom they set of the State in which a creature like him is generated. over them and nurse into greatness. Yes, he said, let us consider that. Yes, that is their way. At first, in the early days of his power, he is full of smiles, This and no other is the root from which a tyrant springs; and he salutes every one whom he meets; Ð he to be called a when he first appears above ground he is a protector. tyrant, who is making promises in public and also in private! Yes, that is quite clear. liberating debtors, and distributing land to the people and his followers, and wanting to be so kind and good to every one! How then does a protector begin to change into a tyrant? Clearly when he does what the man is said to do in the tale of Of course, he said. the Arcadian temple of Lycaean Zeus. But when he has disposed of foreign enemies by conquest or treaty, and there is nothing to fear from them, then he is What tale? always stirring up some war or other, in order that the people The tale is that he who has tasted the entrails of a single may require a leader. human victim minced up with the entrails of other victims is To be sure. destined to become a wolf. Did you never hear it? Has he not also another object, which is that they may be Oh, yes. impoverished by payment of taxes, and thus compelled to de- And the protector of the people is like him; having a mob vote themselves to their daily wants and therefore less likely entirely at his disposal, he is not restrained from shedding the to conspire against him? blood of kinsmen; by the favourite method of false accusation Clearly. he brings them into court and murders them, making the life And if any of them are suspected by him of having notions of man to disappear, and with unholy tongue and lips tasting of freedom, and of resistance to his authority, he will have a the blood of his fellow citizen; some he kills and others he good pretext for destroying them by placing them at the mercy banishes, at the same time hinting at the abolition of debts of the enemy; and for all these reasons the tyrant must be al- and partition of lands: and after this, what will be his destiny? ways getting up a war. Must he not either perish at the hands of his enemies, or from He must. being a man become a wolf Ð that is, a tyrant? Now he begins to grow unpopular. Inevitably. A necessary result. This, I said, is he who begins to make a party against the Then some of those who joined in setting him up, and who rich? are in power, speak their minds to him and to one another, and The same. the more courageous of them cast in his teeth what is being After a while he is driven out, but comes back, in spite of done. his enemies, a tyrant full grown. Yes, that may be expected. That is clear. And the tyrant, if he means to rule, must get rid of them; he And if they are unable to expel him, or to get him con- cannot stop while he has a friend or an enemy who is good for demned to death by a public accusation, they conspire to as- anything. sassinate him. He cannot. Yes, he said, that is their usual way. And therefore he must look about him and see who is Then comes the famous request for a bodyguard, which is valiant, who is high-minded, who is wise, who is wealthy; the device of all those who have got thus far in their tyrannical happy man, he is the enemy of them all, and must seek occa- career Ð “Let not the people’s friend,” as they say, ’“be lost to sion against them whether he will or no, until he has made a them.” purgation of the State. Exactly. Yes, he said, and a rare purgation. The people readily assent; all their fears are for him Ð they Yes, I said, not the sort of purgation which the physicians have none for themselves. make of the body; for they take away the worse and leave the Very true. better part, but he does the reverse. 131

If he is to rule, I suppose that he cannot help himself. If, he said, there are sacred treasures in the city, he will What a blessed alternative, I said: Ð to be compelled to confiscate and spend them; and in so far as the fortunes of dwell only with the many bad, and to be by them hated, or not attainted persons may suffice, he will be able to diminish the to live at all! taxes which he would otherwise have to impose upon the peo- Yes, that is the alternative. ple. And the more detestable his actions are to the citizens the And when these fail? more satellites and the greater devotion in them will he re- Why, clearly, he said, then he and his boon companions, quire? whether male or female, will be maintained out of his father’s Certainly. estate. And who are the devoted band, and where will he procure You mean to say that the people, from whom he has derived them? his being, will maintain him and his companions? They will flock to him, he said, of their own accord, if he Yes, he said; they cannot help themselves. pays them. But what if the people fly into a passion, and aver that a By the dog! I said, here are more drones, of every sort and grown-up son ought not to be supported by his father, but that from every land. the father should be supported by the son? The father did not Yes, he said, there are. bring him into being, or settle him in life, in order that when But will he not desire to get them on the spot? his son became a man he should himself be the servant of his How do you mean? own servants and should support him and his rabble of slaves He will rob the citizens of their slaves; he will then set them and companions; but that his son should protect him, and that free and enroll them in his bodyguard. by his help he might be emancipated from the government To be sure, he said; and he will be able to trust them best of of the rich and aristocratic, as they are termed. And so he all. bids him and his companions depart, just as any other father What a blessed creature, I said, must this tyrant be; he has might drive out of the house a riotous son and his undesirable put to death the others and has these for his trusted friends. associates. Yes, he said; they are quite of his sort. By heaven, he said, then the parent will discover what a Yes, I said, and these are the new citizens whom he has monster he has been fostering in his bosom; and, when he called into existence, who admire him and are his companions, wants to drive him out, he will find that he is weak and his son while the good hate and avoid him. strong. Of course. Why, you do not mean to say that the tyrant will use vio- Verily, then, tragedy is a wise thing and Euripides a great lence? What! beat his father if he opposes him? tragedian. Yes, he will, having first disarmed him. Why so? Then he is a parricide, and a cruel guardian of an aged Why, because he is the author of the pregnant saying, parent; and this is real tyranny, about which there can be no “Tyrants are wise by living with the wise”; and he clearly longer a mistake: as the saying is, the people who would es- meant to say that they are the wise whom the tyrant makes cape the smoke which is the slavery of freemen, has fallen his companions. into the fire which is the tyranny of slaves. Thus liberty, get- Yes, he said, and he also praises tyranny as godlike; and ting out of all order and reason, passes into the harshest and many other things of the same kind are said by him and by the bitterest form of slavery. other poets. True, he said. And therefore, I said, the tragic poets being wise men will Very well; and may we not rightly say that we have suffi- forgive us and any others who live after our manner if we do ciently discussed the nature of tyranny, and the manner of the not receive them into our State, because they are the eulogists transition from democracy to tyranny? of tyranny. Yes, quite enough, he said. Yes, he said, those who have the wit will doubtless forgive us. Last of all comes the tyrannical man; about whom we have But they will continue to go to other cities and attract mobs, once more to ask, how is he formed out of the democratical? and hire voices fair and loud and persuasive, and draw the and how does he live, in happiness or in misery? cities over to tyrannies and democracies. Yes, he said, he is the only one remaining. Very true. There is, however, I said, a previous question which re- Moreover, they are paid for this and receive honour Ð the mains unanswered. greatest honour, as might be expected, from tyrants, and the What question? next greatest from democracies; but the higher they ascend our I do not think that we have adequately determined the na- constitution hill, the more their reputation fails, and seems ture and number of the appetites, and until this is accom- unable from shortness of breath to proceed further. plished the enquiry will always be confused. True. Well, he said, it is not too late to supply the omission. But we are wandering from the subject: Let us therefore Very true, I said; and observe the point which I want to un- return and enquire how the tyrant will maintain that fair and derstand: Certain of the unnecessary pleasures and appetites I numerous and various and ever-changing army of his. conceive to be unlawful; every one appears to have them, but 132 in some persons they are controlled by the laws and by rea- termed perfect liberty; and his father and friends take part with son, and the better desires prevail over them Ð either they are his moderate desires, and the opposite party assist the oppo- wholly banished or they become few and weak; while in the site ones. As soon as these dire magicians and tyrant-makers case of others they are stronger, and there are more of them. find that they are losing their hold on him, they contrive to Which appetites do you mean? implant in him a master passion, to be lord over his idle and I mean those which are awake when the reasoning and hu- spendthrift lusts Ð a sort of monstrous winged drone Ð that is man and ruling power is asleep; then the wild beast within us, the only image which will adequately describe him. gorged with meat or drink, starts up and having shaken off Yes, he said, that is the only adequate image of him. sleep, goes forth to satisfy his desires; and there is no con- And when his other lusts, amid clouds of incense and per- ceivable folly or crime Ð not excepting incest or any other fumes and garlands and wines, and all the pleasures of a dis- unnatural union, or parricide, or the eating of forbidden food solute life, now let loose, come buzzing around him, nour- Ð which at such a time, when he has parted company with all ishing to the utmost the sting of desire which they implant in shame and sense, a man may not be ready to commit. his drone-like nature, then at last this lord of the soul, having Most true, he said. Madness for the captain of his guard, breaks out into a frenzy; But when a man’s pulse is healthy and temperate, and when and if he finds in himself any good opinions or appetites in before going to sleep he has awakened his rational powers, and process of formation, and there is in him any sense of shame fed them on noble thoughts and enquiries, collecting himself remaining, to these better principles he puts an end, and casts in meditation; after having first indulged his appetites nei- them forth until he has purged away temperance and brought ther too much nor too little, but just enough to lay them to in madness to the full. sleep, and prevent them and their enjoyments and pains from Yes, he said, that is the way in which the tyrannical man is interfering with the higher principle Ð which he leaves in the generated. solitude of pure abstraction, free to contemplate and aspire to And is not this the reason why of old love has been called a the knowledge of the unknown, whether in past, present, or tyrant? future: when again he has allayed the passionate element, if I should not wonder. he has a quarrel against any one Ð I say, when, after pacifying Further, I said, has not a drunken man also the spirit of a the two irrational principles, he rouses up the third, which is tyrant? reason, before he takes his rest, then, as you know, he attains He has. truth most nearly, and is least likely to be the sport of fantastic And you know that a man who is deranged and not right in and lawless visions. his mind, will fancy that he is able to rule, not only over men, I quite agree. but also over the gods? In saying this I have been running into a digression; but the That he will. point which I desire to note is that in all of us, even in good And the tyrannical man in the true sense of the word comes men, there is a lawless wild-beast nature, which peers out in into being when, either under the influence of nature, or habit, sleep. Pray, consider whether I am right, and you agree with or both, he becomes drunken, lustful, passionate? O my me. friend, is not that so? Yes, I agree. Assuredly. And now remember the character which we attributed to the Such is the man and such is his origin. And next, how does democratic man. He was supposed from his youth upwards to he live? have been trained under a miserly parent, who encouraged the Suppose, as people facetiously say, you were to tell me. saving appetites in him, but discountenanced the unnecessary, I imagine, I said, at the next step in his progress, that there which aim only at amusement and ornament? will be feasts and carousals and revellings and courtezans, and True. all that sort of thing; Love is the lord of the house within him, And then he got into the company of a more refined, licen- and orders all the concerns of his soul. tious sort of people, and taking to all their wanton ways rushed That is certain. into the opposite extreme from an abhorrence of his father’s Yes; and every day and every night desires grow up many meanness. At last, being a better man than his corruptors; he and formidable, and their demands are many. was drawn in both directions until he halted midway and led a They are indeed, he said. life, not of vulgar and slavish passion, but of what he deemed His revenues, if he has any, are soon spent. moderate indulgence in various pleasures. After this manner True. the democrat was generated out of the oligarch? Then comes debt and the cutting down of his property. Yes, he said; that was our view of him, and is so still. Of course. And now, I said, years will have passed away, and you must When he has nothing left, must not his desires, crowding in conceive this man, such as he is, to have a son, who is brought the nest like young ravens, be crying aloud for food; and he, up in his father’s principles. goaded on by them, and especially by Love himself, who is in I can imagine him. a manner the captain of them, is in a frenzy, and would fain Then you must further imagine the same thing to happen discover whom he can defraud or despoil of his property, in to the son which has already happened to the father: Ð he order that he may gratify them? is drawn into a perfectly lawless life, which by his seducers is Yes, that is sure to be the case. 133

He must have money, no matter how, if he is to escape hor- bodyguard or mercenary soldiers of some other tyrant who rid pains and pangs. may probably want them for a war; and if there is no war, they He must. stay at home and do many little pieces of mischief in the city. And as in himself there was a succession of pleasures, and What sort of mischief? the new got the better of the old and took away their rights, so For example, they are the thieves, burglars, cut-purses, foot- he being younger will claim to have more than his father and pads, robbers of temples, man-stealers of the community; or his mother, and if he has spent his own share of the property, if they are able to speak they turn informers, and bear false he will take a slice of theirs. witness, and take bribes. No doubt he will. A small catalogue of evils, even if the perpetrators of them And if his parents will not give way, then he will try first are few in number. of all to cheat and deceive them. Yes, I said; but small and great are comparative terms, and Very true. all these things, in the misery and evil which they inflict upon And if he fails, then he will use force and plunder them. a State, do not come within a thousand miles of the tyrant; Yes, probably. when this noxious class and their followers grow numerous And if the old man and woman fight for their own, what and become conscious of their strength, assisted by the infat- then, my friend? Will the creature feel any compunction at uation of the people, they choose from among themselves the tyrannizing over them? one who has most of the tyrant in his own soul, and him they Nay, he said, I should not feel at all comfortable about his create their tyrant. parents. Yes, he said, and he will be the most fit to be a tyrant. But, O heavens! Adeimantus, on account of some newfan- If the people yield, well and good; but if they resist him, gled love of a harlot, who is anything but a necessary con- as he began by beating his own father and mother, so now, if nection, can you believe that he would strike the mother who he has the power, he beats them, and will keep his dear old is his ancient friend and necessary to his very existence, and fatherland or motherland, as the Cretans say, in subjection to would place her under the authority of the other, when she is his young retainers whom he has introduced to be their rulers brought under the same roof with her; or that, under like cir- and masters. This is the end of his passions and desires. cumstances, he would do the same to his withered old father, Exactly. first and most indispensable of friends, for the sake of some When such men are only private individuals and before they newly-found blooming youth who is the reverse of indispens- get power, this is their character; they associate entirely with able? their own flatterers or ready tools; or if they want anything Yes, indeed, he said; I believe that he would. from anybody, they in their turn are equally ready to bow Truly, then, I said, a tyrannical son is a blessing to his father down before them: they profess every sort of affection for and mother. them; but when they have gained their point they know them He is indeed, he replied. no more. He first takes their property, and when that fails, and plea- Yes, truly. sures are beginning to swarm in the hive of his soul, then he They are always either the masters or servants and never the breaks into a house, or steals the garments of some nightly friends of anybody; the tyrant never tastes of true freedom or wayfarer; next he proceeds to clear a temple. Meanwhile friendship. the old opinions which he had when a child, and which gave Certainly not. judgment about good and evil, are overthrown by those others And may we not rightly call such men treacherous? which have just been emancipated, and are now the bodyguard No question. of Love and share his empire. These in his democratic days, Also they are utterly unjust, if we were right in our notion when he was still subject to the laws and to his father, were of justice? only let loose in the dreams of sleep. But now that he is un- Yes, he said, and we were perfectly right. der the dominion of Love, he becomes always and in waking reality what he was then very rarely and in a dream only; he will commit the foulest murder, or eat forbidden food, or be 3.5.5. The Just and Unjust Lives Compared in Respect of guilty of any other horrid act. Love is his tyrant, and lives Happiness lordly in him and lawlessly, and being himself a king, leads him on, as a tyrant leads a State, to the performance of any Let us then sum up in a word, I said, the character of the reckless deed by which he can maintain himself and the rab- worst man: he is the waking reality of what we dreamed. ble of his associates, whether those whom evil communica- Most true. tions have brought in from without, or those whom he himself And this is he who being by nature most of a tyrant bears has allowed to break loose within him by reason of a similar rule, and the longer he lives the more of a tyrant he becomes. evil nature in himself. Have we not here a picture of his way That is certain, said Glaucon, taking his turn to answer. of life? And will not he who has been shown to be the wickedest, Yes, indeed, he said. be also the most miserable? and he who has tyrannized And if there are only a few of them in the State, the rest longest and most, most continually and truly miserable; al- of the people are well disposed, they go away and become the though this may not be the opinion of men in general? 134

Yes, he said, inevitably. best elements in him are enslaved; and there is a small ruling And must not the tyrannical man be like the tyrannical part, which is also the worst and maddest. State, and the democratical man like the democratical State; Inevitably. and the same of the others? And would you say that the soul of such an one is the soul Certainly. of a freeman, or of a slave? And as State is to State in virtue and happiness, so is man He has the soul of a slave, in my opinion. in relation to man? And the State which is enslaved under a tyrant is utterly To be sure. incapable of acting voluntarily? Then comparing our original city, which was under a king, Utterly incapable. and the city which is under a tyrant, how do they stand as to And also the soul which is under a tyrant (I am speaking of virtue? the soul taken as a whole) is least capable of doing what she They are the opposite extremes, he said, for one is the very desires; there is a gadfly which goads her, and she is full of best and the other is the very worst. trouble and remorse? There can be no mistake, I said, as to which is which, and Certainly. therefore I will at once enquire whether you would arrive at And is the city which is under a tyrant rich or poor? a similar decision about their relative happiness and misery. Poor. And here we must not allow ourselves to be panic-stricken And the tyrannical soul must be always poor and insatiable? at the apparition of the tyrant, who is only a unit and may True. perhaps have a few retainers about him; but let us go as we And must not such a State and such a man be always full of ought into every corner of the city and look all about, and fear? then we will give our opinion. Yes, indeed. A fair invitation, he replied; and I see, as every one must, Is there any State in which you will find more of lamenta- that a tyranny is the wretchedest form of government, and the tion and sorrow and groaning and pain? rule of a king the happiest. Certainly not. And in estimating the men too, may I not fairly make a And is there any man in whom you will find more of this like request, that I should have a judge whose mind can enter sort of misery than in the tyrannical man, who is in a fury of into and see through human nature? He must not be like a passions and desires? child who looks at the outside and is dazzled at the pompous Impossible. aspect which the tyrannical nature assumes to the beholder, Reflecting upon these and similar evils, you held the tyran- but let him be one who has a clear insight. May I suppose that nical State to be the most miserable of States? the judgment is given in the hearing of us all by one who is And I was right, he said. able to judge, and has dwelt in the same place with him, and Certainly, I said. And when you see the same evils in the been present at his daily life and known him in his family tyrannical man, what do you say of him? relations, where he may be seen stripped of his tragedy attire, I say that he is by far the most miserable of all men. and again in the hour of public danger Ð he shall tell us about There, I said, I think that you are beginning to go wrong. the happiness and misery of the tyrant when compared with What do you mean? other men? I do not think that he has as yet reached the utmost extreme That again, he said, is a very fair proposal. of misery. Shall I assume that we ourselves are able and experienced Then who is more miserable? judges and have before now met with such a person? We shall One of whom I am about to speak. then have some one who will answer our enquiries. Who is that? By all means. He who is of a tyrannical nature, and instead of leading Let me ask you not to forget the parallel of the individual a private life has been cursed with the further misfortune of and the State; bearing this in mind, and glancing in turn from being a public tyrant. one to the other of them, will you tell me their respective con- From what has been said, I gather that you are right. ditions? Yes, I replied, but in this high argument you should be a What do you mean? he asked. little more certain, and should not conjecture only; for of all Beginning with the State, I replied, would you say that a questions, this respecting good and evil is the greatest. city which is governed by a tyrant is free or enslaved? Very true, he said. No city, he said, can be more completely enslaved. Let me then offer you an illustration, which may, I think, And yet, as you see, there are freemen as well as masters in throw a light upon this subject. such a State? What is your illustration? Yes, he said, I see that there are Ð a few; but the people, The case of rich individuals in cities who possess many speaking generally, and the best of them are miserably de- slaves: from them you may form an idea of the tyrant’s con- graded and enslaved. dition, for they both have slaves; the only difference is that he Then if the man is like the State, I said, must not the same has more slaves. rule prevail? his soul is full of meanness and vulgarity Ð the Yes, that is the difference. 135

You know that they live securely and have nothing to ap- more faithless, more unjust, more friendless, more impious, prehend from their servants? than he was at first; he is the purveyor and cherisher of ev- What should they fear? ery sort of vice, and the consequence is that he is supremely Nothing. But do you observe the reason of this? miserable, and that he makes everybody else as miserable as Yes; the reason is, that the whole city is leagued together himself. for the protection of each individual. No man of any sense will dispute your words. Very true, I said. But imagine one of these owners, the Come then, I said, and as the general umpire in theatrical master say of some fifty slaves, together with his family and contests proclaims the result, do you also decide who in your property and slaves, carried off by a god into the wilderness, opinion is first in the scale of happiness, and who second, and where there are no freemen to help him Ð will he not be in an in what order the others follow: there are five of them in all agony of fear lest he and his wife and children should be put Ð they are the royal, timocratical, oligarchical, democratical, to death by his slaves? tyrannical. Yes, he said, he will be in the utmost fear. The decision will be easily given, he replied; they shall be The time has arrived when he will be compelled to flatter choruses coming on the stage, and I must judge them in the divers of his slaves, and make many promises to them of free- order in which they enter, by the criterion of virtue and vice, dom and other things, much against his will Ð he will have to happiness and misery. cajole his own servants. Need we hire a herald, or shall I announce, that the son of Yes, he said, that will be the only way of saving himself. Ariston has decided that the best and justest is also the hap- And suppose the same god, who carried him away, to sur- piest, and that this is he who is the most royal man and king round him with neighbours who will not suffer one man to over himself; and that the worst and most unjust man is also be the master of another, and who, if they could catch the of- the most miserable, and that this is he who being the greatest fender, would take his life? tyrant of himself is also the greatest tyrant of his State? His case will be still worse, if you suppose him to be every- Make the proclamation yourself, he said. where surrounded and watched by enemies. And shall I add, “whether seen or unseen by gods and And is not this the sort of prison in which the tyrant will be men”? bound Ð he who being by nature such as we have described, Let the words be added. is full of all sorts of fears and lusts? His soul is dainty and Then this, I said, will be our first proof; and there is an- greedy, and yet alone, of all men in the city, he is never al- other, which may also have some weight. lowed to go on a journey, or to see the things which other What is that? freemen desire to see, but he lives in his hole like a woman The second proof is derived from the nature of the soul: hidden in the house, and is jealous of any other citizen who seeing that the individual soul, like the State, has been divided goes into foreign parts and sees anything of interest. by us into three principles, the division may, I think, furnish a Very true, he said. new demonstration. And amid evils such as these will not he who is ill-governed Of what nature? in his own person Ð the tyrannical man, I mean Ð whom you It seems to me that to these three principles three pleasures just now decided to be the most miserable of all Ð will not he correspond; also three desires and governing powers. be yet more miserable when, instead of leading a private life, he is constrained by fortune to be a public tyrant? He has to How do you mean? he said. be master of others when he is not master of himself: he is There is one principle with which, as we were saying, a man like a diseased or paralytic man who is compelled to pass his learns, another with which he is angry; the third, having many life, not in retirement, but fighting and combating with other forms, has no special name, but is denoted by the general term men. appetitive, from the extraordinary strength and vehemence of Yes, he said, the similitude is most exact. the desires of eating and drinking and the other sensual ap- Is not his case utterly miserable? and does not the actual petites which are the main elements of it; also money-loving, tyrant lead a worse life than he whose life you determined to because such desires are generally satisfied by the help of be the worst? money. Certainly. That is true, he said. He who is the real tyrant, whatever men may think, is the If we were to say that the loves and pleasures of this third real slave, and is obliged to practice the greatest adulation and part were concerned with gain, we should then be able to fall servility, and to be the flatterer of the vilest of mankind. He back on a single notion; and might truly and intelligibly de- has desires which he is utterly unable to satisfy, and has more scribe this part of the soul as loving gain or money. wants than any one, and is truly poor, if you know how to I agree with you. inspect the whole soul of him: all his life long he is beset with Again, is not the passionate element wholly set on ruling fear and is full of convulsions, and distractions, even as the and conquering and getting fame? State which he resembles: and surely the resemblance holds? True. Very true, he said. Suppose we call it the contentious or ambitious Ð would the Moreover, as we were saying before, he grows worse from term be suitable? having power: he becomes and is of necessity more jealous, Extremely suitable. 136

On the other hand, every one sees that the principle of Again, has he greater experience of the pleasures of honour, knowledge is wholly directed to the truth, and cares less than or the lover of honour of the pleasures of wisdom? either of the others for gain or fame. Nay, he said, all three are honoured in proportion as they Far less. attain their object; for the rich man and the brave man and “Lover of wisdom,” “lover of knowledge,” are titles which the wise man alike have their crowd of admirers, and as they we may fitly apply to that part of the soul? all receive honour they all have experience of the pleasures of Certainly. honour; but the delight which is to be found in the knowledge One principle prevails in the souls of one class of men, an- of true being is known to the philosopher only. other in others, as may happen? His experience, then, will enable him to judge better than Yes. any one? Then we may begin by assuming that there are three classes Far better. of men Ð lovers of wisdom, lovers of honour, lovers of gain? And he is the only one who has wisdom as well as experi- Exactly. ence? Certainly. And there are three kinds of pleasure, which are their sev- eral objects? Further, the very faculty which is the instrument of judg- ment is not possessed by the covetous or ambitious man, but Very true. only by the philosopher? Now, if you examine the three classes of men, and ask of What faculty? them in turn which of their lives is pleasantest, each will be Reason, with whom, as we were saying, the decision ought found praising his own and depreciating that of others: the to rest. money-maker will contrast the vanity of honour or of learning Yes. if they bring no money with the solid advantages of gold and And reasoning is peculiarly his instrument? silver? Certainly. True, he said. If wealth and gain were the criterion, then the praise or And the lover of honour Ð what will be his opinion? Will blame of the lover of gain would surely be the most trustwor- he not think that the pleasure of riches is vulgar, while the thy? pleasure of learning, if it brings no distinction, is all smoke Assuredly. and nonsense to him? Or if honour or victory or courage, in that case the judge- Very true. ment of the ambitious or pugnacious would be the truest? And are we to suppose, I said, that the philosopher sets any Clearly. value on other pleasures in comparison with the pleasure of But since experience and wisdom and reason are the judges knowing the truth, and in that pursuit abiding, ever learning, Ð not so far indeed from the heaven of pleasure? Does he not The only inference possible, he replied, is that pleasures call the other pleasures necessary, under the idea that if there which are approved by the lover of wisdom and reason are the were no necessity for them, he would rather not have them? truest. There can be no doubt of that, he replied. And so we arrive at the result, that the pleasure of the intel- Since, then, the pleasures of each class and the life of each ligent part of the soul is the pleasantest of the three, and that are in dispute, and the question is not which life is more or less he of us in whom this is the ruling principle has the pleasantest honourable, or better or worse, but which is the more pleasant life. or painless Ð how shall we know who speaks truly? Unquestionably, he said, the wise man speaks with author- I cannot myself tell, he said. ity when he approves of his own life. Well, but what ought to be the criterion? Is any better than And what does the judge affirm to be the life which is next, experience and wisdom and reason? and the pleasure which is next? There cannot be a better, he said. Clearly that of the soldier and lover of honour; who is Then, I said, reflect. Of the three individuals, which has nearer to himself than the money-maker. the greatest experience of all the pleasures which we enumer- Last comes the lover of gain? ated? Has the lover of gain, in learning the nature of essential Very true, he said. truth, greater experience of the pleasure of knowledge than Twice in succession, then, has the just man overthrown the the philosopher has of the pleasure of gain? unjust in this conflict; and now comes the third trial, which is The philosopher, he replied, has greatly the advantage; for dedicated to Olympian Zeus the saviour: a sage whispers in he has of necessity always known the taste of the other plea- my ear that no pleasure except that of the wise is quite true sures from his childhood upwards: but the lover of gain in all and pure Ð all others are a shadow only; and surely this will his experience has not of necessity tasted Ð or, I should rather prove the greatest and most decisive of falls? say, even had he desired, could hardly have tasted Ð the sweet- Yes, the greatest; but will you explain yourself? ness of learning and knowing truth. I will work out the subject and you shall answer my ques- Then the lover of wisdom has a great advantage over the tions. lover of gain, for he has a double experience? Proceed. Yes, very great. Say, then, is not pleasure opposed to pain? 137

True. Still, the more numerous and violent pleasures which reach And there is a neutral state which is neither pleasure nor the soul through the body are generally of this sort Ð they are pain? reliefs of pain. There is. That is true. A state which is intermediate, and a sort of repose of the And the anticipations of future pleasures and pains are of a soul about either Ð that is what you mean? like nature? Yes. Yes. You remember what people say when they are sick? Shall I give you an illustration of them? What do they say? Let me hear. That after all nothing is pleasanter than health. But then You would allow, I said, that there is in nature an upper and they never knew this to be the greatest of pleasures until they lower and middle region? were ill. I should. Yes, I know, he said. And if a person were to go from the lower to the middle And when persons are suffering from acute pain, you must. region, would he not imagine that he is going up; and he who have heard them say that there is nothing pleasanter than to is standing in the middle and sees whence he has come, would get rid of their pain? imagine that he is already in the upper region, if he has never Ihave. seen the true upper world? And there are many other cases of suffering in which the To be sure, he said; how can he think otherwise? mere rest and cessation of pain, and not any positive enjoy- But if he were taken back again he would imagine, and truly ment, is extolled by them as the greatest pleasure? imagine, that he was descending? Yes, he said; at the time they are pleased and well content No doubt. to be at rest. All that would arise out of his ignorance of the true upper Again, when pleasure ceases, that sort of rest or cessation and middle and lower regions? will be painful? Yes. Doubtless, he said. Then can you wonder that persons who are inexperienced Then the intermediate state of rest will be pleasure and will in the truth, as they have wrong ideas about many other things, also be pain? should also have wrong ideas about pleasure and pain and the So it would seem. intermediate state; so that when they are only being drawn to- But can that which is neither become both? wards the painful they feel pain and think the pain which they I should say not. experience to be real, and in like manner, when drawn away And both pleasure and pain are motions of the soul, are they from pain to the neutral or intermediate state, they firmly be- not? lieve that they have reached the goal of satiety and pleasure; Yes. they, not knowing pleasure, err in contrasting pain with the But that which is neither was just now shown to be rest and absence of pain, which is like contrasting black with grey in- not motion, and in a mean between them? stead of white Ð can you wonder, I say, at this? Yes. No, indeed; I should be much more disposed to wonder at How, then, can we be right in supposing that the absence of the opposite. pain is pleasure, or that the absence of pleasure is pain? Look at the matter thus: Ð Hunger, thirst, and the like, are Impossible. inanitions of the bodily state? This then is an appearance only and not a reality; that is to Yes. say, the rest is pleasure at the moment and in comparison of And ignorance and folly are inanitions of the soul? what is painful, and painful in comparison of what is pleasant; True. but all these representations, when tried by the test of true And food and wisdom are the corresponding satisfactions pleasure, are not real but a sort of imposition? of either? That is the inference. Certainly. Look at the other class of pleasures which have no an- And is the satisfaction derived from that which has less or tecedent pains and you will no longer suppose, as you perhaps from that which has more existence the truer? may at present, that pleasure is only the cessation of pain, or Clearly, from that which has more. pain of pleasure. What classes of things have a greater share of pure exis- What are they, he said, and where shall I find them? tence in your judgment Ð those of which food and drink and There are many of them: take as an example the pleasures condiments and all kinds of sustenance are examples, or the of smell, which are very great and have no antecedent pains; class which contains true opinion and knowledge and mind they come in a moment, and when they depart leave no pain and all the different kinds of virtue? Put the question in this behind them. way: Ð Which has a more pure being Ð that which is con- Most true, he said. cerned with the invariable, the immortal, and the true, and is Let us not, then, be induced to believe that pure pleasure is of such a nature, and is found in such natures; or that which the cessation of pain, or pain of pleasure. is concerned with and found in the variable and mortal, and is No. itself variable and mortal? 138

Far purer, he replied, is the being of that which is concerned discontented, if he be seeking to attain honour and victory with the invariable. and the satisfaction of his anger without reason or sense? And does the essence of the invariable partake of knowl- Yes, he said, the same will happen with the spirited element edge in the same degree as of essence? also. Yes, of knowledge in the same degree. Then may we not confidently assert that the lovers of money And of truth in the same degree? and honour, when they seek their pleasures under the guidance Yes. and in the company of reason and knowledge, and pursue af- And, conversely, that which has less of truth will also have ter and win the pleasures which wisdom shows them, will also less of essence? have the truest pleasures in the highest degree which is attain- able to them, inasmuch as they follow truth; and they will have Necessarily. the pleasures which are natural to them, if that which is best Then, in general, those kinds of things which are in the for each one is also most natural to him? service of the body have less of truth and essence than those Yes, certainly; the best is the most natural. which are in the service of the soul? And when the whole soul follows the philosophical princi- Far less. ple, and there is no division, the several parts are just, and do And has not the body itself less of truth and essence than each of them their own business, and enjoy severally the best the soul? and truest pleasures of which they are capable? Yes. Exactly. What is filled with more real existence, and actually has a But when either of the two other principles prevails, it fails more real existence, is more really filled than that which is in attaining its own pleasure, and compels the rest to pursue filled with less real existence and is less real? after a pleasure which is a shadow only and which is not their Of course. own? And if there be a pleasure in being filled with that which True. is according to nature, that which is more really filled with And the greater the interval which separates them from phi- more real being will more really and truly enjoy true pleasure; losophy and reason, the more strange and illusive will be the whereas that which participates in less real being will be less pleasure? truly and surely satisfied, and will participate in an illusory Yes. and less real pleasure? And is not that farthest from reason which is at the greatest Unquestionably. distance from law and order? Those then who know not wisdom and virtue, and are al- Clearly. ways busy with gluttony and sensuality, go down and up again And the lustful and tyrannical desires are, as we saw, at the as far as the mean; and in this region they move at random greatest distance? throughout life, but they never pass into the true upper world; Yes. thither they neither look, nor do they ever find their way, nei- And the royal and orderly desires are nearest? ther are they truly filled with true being, nor do they taste of Yes. pure and abiding pleasure. Like cattle, with their eyes always Then the tyrant will live at the greatest distance from true looking down and their heads stooping to the earth, that is, to or natural pleasure, and the king at the least? the dining-table, they fatten and feed and breed, and, in their Certainly. excessive love of these delights, they kick and butt at one an- But if so, the tyrant will live most unpleasantly, and the king other with horns and hoofs which are made of iron; and they most pleasantly? kill one another by reason of their insatiable lust. For they fill Inevitably. themselves with that which is not substantial, and the part of Would you know the measure of the interval which sepa- themselves which they fill is also unsubstantial and inconti- rates them? nent. Will you tell me? Verily, Socrates, said Glaucon, you describe the life of the There appear to be three pleasures, one genuine and two many like an oracle. spurious: now the transgression of the tyrant reaches a point Their pleasures are mixed with pains Ð how can they be oth- beyond the spurious; he has run away from the region of law erwise? For they are mere shadows and pictures of the true, and reason, and taken up his abode with certain slave plea- and are coloured by contrast, which exaggerates both light sures which are his satellites, and the measure of his inferior- and shade, and so they implant in the minds of fools insane ity can only be expressed in a figure. desires of themselves; and they are fought about as Stesicho- How do you mean? rus says that the Greeks fought about the shadow of Helen at I assume, I said, that the tyrant is in the third place from the Troy in ignorance of the truth. oligarch; the democrat was in the middle? Something of that sort must inevitably happen. Yes. And must not the like happen with the spirited or passionate And if there is truth in what has preceded, he will be wed- element of the soul? Will not the passionate man who carries ded to an image of pleasure which is thrice removed as to truth his passion into action, be in the like case, whether he is en- from the pleasure of the oligarch? vious and ambitious, or violent and contentious, or angry and He will. 139

And the oligarch is third from the royal; since we count as Suppose now that you make a second form as of a lion, and one royal and aristocratical? a third of a man, the second smaller than the first, and the third Yes, he is third. smaller than the second. Then the tyrant is removed from true pleasure by the space That, he said, is an easier task; and I have made them as of a number which is three times three? you say. Manifestly. And now join them, and let the three grow into one. The shadow then of tyrannical pleasure determined by the That has been accomplished. number of length will be a plane figure. Next fashion the outside of them into a single image, as Certainly. of a man, so that he who is not able to look within, and sees And if you raise the power and make the plane a solid, there only the outer hull, may believe the beast to be a single human is no difficulty in seeing how vast is the interval by which the creature. tyrant is parted from the king. I have done so, he said. And now, to him who maintains that it is profitable for the Yes; the arithmetician will easily do the sum. human creature to be unjust, and unprofitable to be just, let Or if some person begins at the other end and measures the us reply that, if he be right, it is profitable for this creature to interval by which the king is parted from the tyrant in truth feast the multitudinous monster and strengthen the lion and of pleasure, he will find him, when the multiplication is com- the lion-like qualities, but to starve and weaken the man, who plete, living 729 times more pleasantly, and the tyrant more is consequently liable to be dragged about at the mercy of ei- painfully by this same interval. ther of the other two; and he is not to attempt to familiarize or What a wonderful calculation! And how enormous is the harmonize them with one another Ð he ought rather to suffer distance which separates the just from the unjust in regard to them to fight and bite and devour one another. pleasure and pain! Certainly, he said; that is what the approver of injustice Yet a true calculation, I said, and a number which nearly says. concerns human life, if human beings are concerned with days To him the supporter of justice makes answer that he should and nights and months and years. ever so speak and act as to give the man within him in some Yes, he said, human life is certainly concerned with them. way or other the most complete mastery over the entire human Then if the good and just man be thus superior in pleasure creature. He should watch over the many-headed monster like to the evil and unjust, his superiority will be infinitely greater a good husbandman, fostering and cultivating the gentle qual- in propriety of life and in beauty and virtue? ities, and preventing the wild ones from growing; he should Immeasurably greater. be making the lion-heart his ally, and in common care of them all should be uniting the several parts with one another and with himself. 3.5.6. Justice, Not Injustice, Is Profitable Yes, he said, that is quite what the maintainer of justice will say. Well, I said, and now having arrived at this stage of the ar- And so from every point of view, whether of pleasure, hon- gument, we may revert to the words which brought us hither: our, or advantage, the approver of justice is right and speaks Was not some one saying that injustice was a gain to the per- the truth, and the disapprover is wrong and false and ignorant? fectly unjust who was reputed to be just? Yes, from every point of view. Yes, that was said. Come, now, and let us gently reason with the unjust, who is not intentionally in error. “Sweet Sir,” we will say to him, Now then, having determined the power and quality of jus- “what think you of things esteemed noble and ignoble? Is not tice and injustice, let us have a little conversation with him. the noble that which subjects the beast to the man, or rather to What shall we say to him? the god in man; and the ignoble that which subjects the man Let us make an image of the soul, that he may have his own to the beast?” He can hardly avoid saying yes Ð can he now? words presented before his eyes. Not if he has any regard for my opinion. Of what sort? But, if he agree so far, we may ask him to answer another An ideal image of the soul, like the composite creations of question: “Then how would a man profit if he received gold ancient mythology, such as the Chimera or Scylla or Cerberus, and silver on the condition that he was to enslave the noblest and there are many others in which two or more different na- part of him to the worst? Who can imagine that a man who tures are said to grow into one. sold his son or daughter into slavery for money, especially if There are said of have been such unions. he sold them into the hands of fierce and evil men, would be Then do you now model the form of a multitudinous, many- the gainer, however large might be the sum which he received? headed monster, having a ring of heads of all manner of beasts, And will any one say that he is not a miserable caitiff who tame and wild, which he is able to generate and metamorphose remorselessly sells his own divine being to that which is most at will. godless and detestable? Eriphyle took the necklace as the You suppose marvellous powers in the artist; but, as lan- price of her husband’s life, but he is taking a bribe in order to guage is more pliable than wax or any similar substance, let compass a worse ruin.” there be such a model as you propose. Yes, said Glaucon, far worse Ð I will answer for him. 140

Has not the intemperate been censured of old, because in honour studies which impress these qualities on his soul, and him the huge multiform monster is allowed to be too much at disregard others? large? Clearly, he said. Clearly. In the next place, he will regulate his bodily habit and train- And men are blamed for pride and bad temper when the ing, and so far will he be from yielding to brutal and irrational lion and serpent element in them disproportionately grows and pleasures, that he will regard even health as quite a secondary gains strength? matter; his first object will be not that he may be fair or strong Yes. or well, unless he is likely thereby to gain temperance, but he And luxury and softness are blamed, because they relax and will always desire so to attemper the body as to preserve the weaken this same creature, and make a coward of him? harmony of the soul? Very true. Certainly he will, if he has true music in him. And is not a man reproached for flattery and meanness who And in the acquisition of wealth there is a principle of order subordinates the spirited animal to the unruly monster, and, and harmony which he will also observe; he will not allow for the sake of money, of which he can never have enough, himself to be dazzled by the foolish applause of the world, habituates him in the days of his youth to be trampled in the and heap up riches to his own infinite harm? mire, and from being a lion to become a monkey? Certainly not, he said. True, he said. He will look at the city which is within him, and take heed that no disorder occur in it, such as might arise either from su- And why are mean employments and manual arts a re- perfluity or from want; and upon this principle he will regulate proach? Only because they imply a natural weakness of the his property and gain or spend according to his means. higher principle; the individual is unable to control the crea- Very true. tures within him, but has to court them, and his great study is And, for the same reason, he will gladly accept and enjoy how to flatter them. such honours as he deems likely to make him a better man; but Such appears to be the reason. those, whether private or public, which are likely to disorder And therefore, being desirous of placing him under a rule his life, he will avoid? like that of the best, we say that he ought to be the servant of Then, if that is his motive, he will not be a statesman. the best, in whom the Divine rules; not, as Thrasymachus sup- By the dog of Egypt, he will! in the city which is his own posed, to the injury of the servant, but because every one had he certainly will, though in the land of his birth perhaps not, better be ruled by divine wisdom dwelling within him; or, if unless he have a divine call. this be impossible, then by an external authority, in order that I understand; you mean that he will be a ruler in the city of we may be all, as far as possible, under the same government, which we are the founders, and which exists in idea only; for friends and equals. I do not believe that there is such an one anywhere on earth? True, he said. In heaven, I replied, there is laid up a pattern of it, methinks, And this is clearly seen to be the intention of the law, which which he who desires may behold, and beholding, may set his is the ally of the whole city; and is seen also in the authority own house in order. But whether such an one exists, or ever which we exercise over children, and the refusal to let them be will exist in fact, is no matter; for he will live after the manner free until we have established in them a principle analogous of that city, having nothing to do with any other. to the constitution of a state, and by cultivation of this higher I think so, he said. element have set up in their hearts a guardian and ruler like our own, and when this is done they may go their ways. Yes, he said, the purpose of the law is manifest. 3.6. The Quarrel Between Philosophy and Poetry From what point of view, then, and on what ground can we say that a man is profited by injustice or intemperance or other 3.6.1. How Representation in Art Is Related to Truth baseness, which will make him a worse man, even though he acquire money or power by his wickedness? Of the many excellences which I perceive in the order of our From no point of view at all. State, there is none which upon reflection pleases me better What shall he profit, if his injustice be undetected and un- than the rule about poetry. punished? He who is undetected only gets worse, whereas To what do you refer? he who is detected and punished has the brutal part of his na- To the rejection of imitative poetry, which certainly ought ture silenced and humanized; the gentler element in him is not to be received; as I see far more clearly now that the parts liberated, and his whole soul is perfected and ennobled by of the soul have been distinguished. the acquirement of justice and temperance and wisdom, more What do you mean? than the body ever is by receiving gifts of beauty, strength and Speaking in confidence, for I should not like to have my health, in proportion as the soul is more honourable than the words repeated to the tragedians and the rest of the imitative body. tribe Ð but I do not mind saying to you, that all poetical imita- Certainly, he said. tions are ruinous to the understanding of the hearers, and that To this nobler purpose the man of understanding will de- the knowledge of their true nature is the only antidote to them. vote the energies of his life. And in the first place, he will Explain the purport of your remark. 141

Well, I will tell you, although I have always from my ear- of appearances, is he not? liest youth had an awe and love of Homer, which even now Of course. makes the words falter on my lips, for he is the great captain But then I suppose you will say that what he creates is un- and teacher of the whole of that charming tragic company; but true. And yet there is a sense in which the painter also creates a man is not to be reverenced more than the truth, and there- a bed? fore I will speak out. Yes, he said, but not a real bed. Very good, he said. And what of the maker of the bed? Were you not saying Listen to me then, or rather, answer me. that he too makes, not the idea which, according to our view, Put your question. is the essence of the bed, but only a particular bed? Can you tell me what imitation is? for I really do not know. Yes, I did. A likely thing, then, that I should know. Then if he does not make that which exists he cannot make Why not? for the duller eye may often see a thing sooner true existence, but only some semblance of existence; and if than the keener. any one were to say that the work of the maker of the bed, or Very true, he said; but in your presence, even if I had any of any other workman, has real existence, he could hardly be faint notion, I could not muster courage to utter it. Will you supposed to be speaking the truth. enquire yourself? At any rate, he replied, philosophers would say that he was Well then, shall we begin the enquiry in our usual manner: not speaking the truth. Whenever a number of individuals have a common name, we No wonder, then, that his work too is an indistinct expres- assume them to have also a corresponding idea or form: do sion of truth. you understand me? No wonder. I do. Suppose now that by the light of the examples just offered Let us take any common instance; there are beds and tables we enquire who this imitator is? in the world Ð plenty of them, are there not? If you please. Yes. Well then, here are three beds: one existing in nature, which But there are only two ideas or forms of them Ð one the idea is made by God, as I think that we may say Ð for no one else of a bed, the other of a table. can be the maker? True. No. And the maker of either of them makes a bed or he makes There is another which is the work of the carpenter? a table for our use, in accordance with the idea Ð that is our Yes. way of speaking in this and similar instances Ð but no artificer And the work of the painter is a third? makes the ideas themselves: how could he? Yes. Impossible. Beds, then, are of three kinds, and there are three artists And there is another artist, Ð I should like to know what who superintend them: God, the maker of the bed, and the you would say of him. painter? Who is he? Yes, there are three of them. One who is the maker of all the works of all other workmen. God, whether from choice or from necessity, made one bed What an extraordinary man! in nature and one only; two or more such ideal beds neither Wait a little, and there will be more reason for your saying ever have been nor ever will be made by God. so. For this is he who is able to make not only vessels of every kind, but plants and animals, himself and all other things Ð the Why is that? earth and heaven, and the things which are in heaven or under Because even if He had made but two, a third would still the earth; he makes the gods also. appear behind them which both of them would have for their He must be a wizard and no mistake. idea, and that would be the ideal bed and the two others. Oh! you are incredulous, are you? Do you mean that there Very true, he said. is no such maker or creator, or that in one sense there might be God knew this, and He desired to be the real maker of a real a maker of all these things but in another not? Do you see that bed, not a particular maker of a particular bed, and therefore there is a way in which you could make them all yourself? He created a bed which is essentially and by nature one only. What way? So we believe. An easy way enough; or rather, there are many ways in Shall we, then, speak of Him as the natural author or maker which the feat might be quickly and easily accomplished, of the bed? none quicker than that of turning a mirror round and round Yes, he replied; inasmuch as by the natural process of cre- Ð you would soon enough make the sun and the heavens, and ation He is the author of this and of all other things. the earth and yourself, and other animals and plants, and all And what shall we say of the carpenter Ð is not he also the the, other things of which we were just now speaking, in the maker of the bed? mirror. Yes. Yes, he said; but they would be appearances only. But would you call the painter a creator and maker? Very good, I said, you are coming to the point now. And Certainly not. the painter too is, as I conceive, just such another Ð a creator Yet if he is not the maker, what is he in relation to the bed? 142

I think, he said, that we may fairly designate him as the The question, he said, should by all means be considered. imitator of that which the others make. Now do you suppose that if a person were able to make the Good, I said; then you call him who is third in the descent original as well as the image, he would seriously devote him- from nature an imitator? self to the image-making branch? Would he allow imitation to Certainly, he said. be the ruling principle of his life, as if he had nothing higher And the tragic poet is an imitator, and therefore, like all in him? other imitators, he is thrice removed from the king and from I should say not. the truth? The real artist, who knew what he was imitating, would be That appears to be so. interested in realities and not in imitations; and would desire Then about the imitator we are agreed. And what about the to leave as memorials of himself works many and fair; and, painter? Ð I would like to know whether he may be thought instead of being the author of encomiums, he would prefer to to imitate that which originally exists in nature, or only the be the theme of them. creations of artists? Yes, he said, that would be to him a source of much greater The latter. honour and profit. As they are or as they appear? You have still to determine Then, I said, we must put a question to Homer; not about this. medicine, or any of the arts to which his poems only inciden- What do you mean? tally refer: we are not going to ask him, or any other poet, I mean, that you may look at a bed from different points whether he has cured patients like Asclepius, or left behind of view, obliquely or directly or from any other point of view, him a school of medicine such as the Asclepiads were, or and the bed will appear different, but there is no difference in whether he only talks about medicine and other arts at sec- reality. And the same of all things. ond hand; but we have a right to know respecting military Yes, he said, the difference is only apparent. tactics, politics, education, which are the chiefest and no- Now let me ask you another question: Which is the art of blest subjects of his poems, and we may fairly ask him about painting designed to be Ð an imitation of things as they are, or them. “Friend Homer,” then we say to him, “if you are only as they appear Ð of appearance or of reality? in the second remove from truth in what you say of virtue, Of appearance. and not in the third Ð not an image maker or imitator Ð and Then the imitator, I said, is a long way off the truth, and if you are able to discern what pursuits make men better or can do all things because he lightly touches on a small part worse in private or public life, tell us what State was ever bet- of them, and that part an image. For example: A painter will ter governed by your help? The good order of Lacedaemon is paint a cobbler, carpenter, or any other artist, though he knows due to Lycurgus, and many other cities great and small have nothing of their arts; and, if he is a good artist, he may deceive been similarly benefited by others; but who says that you have children or simple persons, when he shows them his picture of been a good legislator to them and have done them any good? a carpenter from a distance, and they will fancy that they are Italy and Sicily boast of Charondas, and there is Solon who is looking at a real carpenter. renowned among us; but what city has anything to say about Certainly. you?” Is there any city which he might name? And whenever any one informs us that he has found a man I think not, said Glaucon; not even the Homerids them- knows all the arts, and all things else that anybody knows, selves pretend that he was a legislator. and every single thing with a higher degree of accuracy than Well, but is there any war on record which was carried on any other man Ð whoever tells us this, I think that we can only successfully by him, or aided by his counsels, when he was imagine to be a simple creature who is likely to have been de- alive? ceived by some wizard or actor whom he met, and whom he There is not. thought all-knowing, because he himself was unable to anal- Or is there any invention of his, applicable to the arts or yse the nature of knowledge and ignorance and imitation. to human life, such as Thales the Milesian or Anacharsis the Most true. Scythian, and other ingenious men have conceived, which is And so, when we hear persons saying that the tragedians, attributed to him? and Homer, who is at their head, know all the arts and all There is absolutely nothing of the kind. things human, virtue as well as vice, and divine things too, But, if Homer never did any public service, was he privately for that the good poet cannot compose well unless he knows a guide or teacher of any? Had he in his lifetime friends his subject, and that he who has not this knowledge can never who loved to associate with him, and who handed down to be a poet, we ought to consider whether here also there may posterity an Homeric way of life, such as was established by not be a similar illusion. Perhaps they may have come across Pythagoras who was so greatly beloved for his wisdom, and imitators and been deceived by them; they may not have re- whose followers are to this day quite celebrated for the order membered when they saw their works that these were but which was named after him? imitations thrice removed from the truth, and could easily be Nothing of the kind is recorded of him. For surely, Socrates, made without any knowledge of the truth, because they are Creophylus, the companion of Homer, that child of flesh, appearances only and not realities? Or, after all, they may be whose name always makes us laugh, might be more justly in the right, and poets do really know the things about which ridiculed for his stupidity, if, as is said, Homer was greatly ne- they seem to the many to speak so well? glected by him and others in his own day when he was alive? 143

Yes, I replied, that is the tradition. But can you imagine, make them; only the horseman who knows how to use them Ð Glaucon, that if Homer had really been able to educate and he knows their right form. improve mankind Ð if he had possessed knowledge and not Most true. been a mere imitator Ð can you imagine, I say, that he would And may we not say the same of all things? not have had many followers, and been honoured and loved by them? Protagoras of Abdera, and Prodicus of Ceos, and a What? host of others, have only to whisper to their contemporaries: That there are three arts which are concerned with all “You will never be able to manage either your own house or things: one which uses, another which makes, a third which your own State until you appoint us to be your ministers of imitates them? education” Ð and this ingenious device of theirs has such an Yes. effect in making men love them that their companions all but And the excellence or beauty or truth of every structure, carry them about on their shoulders. And is it conceivable that animate or inanimate, and of every action of man, is relative the contemporaries of Homer, or again of Hesiod, would have to the use for which nature or the artist has intended them. allowed either of them to go about as rhapsodists, if they had really been able to make mankind virtuous? Would they not True. have been as unwilling to part with them as with gold, and Then the user of them must have the greatest experience have compelled them to stay at home with them? Or, if the of them, and he must indicate to the maker the good or bad master would not stay, then the disciples would have followed qualities which develop themselves in use; for example, the him about everywhere, until they had got education enough? flute-player will tell the flute-maker which of his flutes is sat- Yes, Socrates, that, I think, is quite true. isfactory to the performer; he will tell him how he ought to Then must we not infer that all these poetical individuals, make them, and the other will attend to his instructions? beginning with Homer, are only imitators; they copy images Of course. of virtue and the like, but the truth they never reach? The The one knows and therefore speaks with authority about poet is like a painter who, as we have already observed, will the goodness and badness of flutes, while the other, confiding make a likeness of a cobbler though he understands nothing of in him, will do what he is told by him? cobbling; and his picture is good enough for those who know no more than he does, and judge only by colours and figures. True. Quite so. The instrument is the same, but about the excellence or bad- In like manner the poet with his words and phrases may ness of it the maker will only attain to a correct belief; and this be said to lay on the colours of the several arts, himself un- he will gain from him who knows, by talking to him and being derstanding their nature only enough to imitate them; and compelled to hear what he has to say, whereas the user will other people, who are as ignorant as he is, and judge only have knowledge? from his words, imagine that if he speaks of cobbling, or of True. military tactics, or of anything else, in meter and harmony But will the imitator have either? Will he know from use and rhythm, he speaks very well Ð such is the sweet influ- whether or no his drawing is correct or beautiful? Or will ence which melody and rhythm by nature have. And I think he have right opinion from being compelled to associate with that you must have observed again and again what a poor ap- another who knows and gives him instructions about what he pearance the tales of poets make when stripped of the colours should draw? which music puts upon them, and recited in simple prose. Neither. Yes, he said. They are like faces which were never really beautiful, but Then he will no more have true opinion than he will have only blooming; and now the bloom of youth has passed away knowledge about the goodness or badness of his imitations? from them? I suppose not. Exactly. The imitative artist will be in a brilliant state of intelligence Here is another point: The imitator or maker of the image about his own creations? knows nothing of true existence; he knows appearances only. Nay, very much the reverse. Am I not right? And still he will go on imitating without knowing what Yes. makes a thing good or bad, and may be expected therefore Then let us have a clear understanding, and not be satisfied to imitate only that which appears to be good to the ignorant with half an explanation. multitude? Proceed. Of the painter we say that he will paint reins, and he will Just so. paint a bit? Thus far then we are pretty well agreed that the imitator Yes. has no knowledge worth mentioning of what he imitates. Im- And the worker in leather and brass will make them? itation is only a kind of play or sport, and the tragic poets, Certainly. whether they write in iambic or in Heroic verse, are imitators But does the painter know the right form of the bit and in the highest degree? reins? Nay, hardly even the workers in brass and leather who Very true. 144

3.6.2. Dramatic Poetry Appeals to the Emotions, Not to the Very true. Reason And is this confined to the sight only, or does it extend to the hearing also, relating in fact to what we term poetry? And now tell me, I conjure you, has not imitation been Probably the same would be true of poetry. shown by us to be concerned with that which is thrice removed Do not rely, I said, on a probability derived from the anal- from the truth? ogy of painting; but let us examine further and see whether Certainly. the faculty with which poetical imitation is concerned is good And what is the faculty in man to which imitation is ad- or bad. dressed? By all means. What do you mean? We may state the question thus: Ð Imitation imitates the I will explain: The body which is large when seen near, actions of men, whether voluntary or involuntary, on which, appears small when seen at a distance? as they imagine, a good or bad result has ensued, and they True. rejoice or sorrow accordingly. Is there anything more? And the same object appears straight when looked at out No, there is nothing else. of the water, and crooked when in the water; and the con- But in all this variety of circumstances is the man at unity cave becomes convex, owing to the illusion about colours to with himself Ð or rather, as in the instance of sight there which the sight is liable. Thus every sort of confusion is re- was confusion and opposition in his opinions about the same vealed within us; and this is that weakness of the human mind things, so here also is there not strife and inconsistency in his on which the art of conjuring and of deceiving by light and life? Though I need hardly raise the question again, for I re- shadow and other ingenious devices imposes, having an effect member that all this has been already admitted; and the soul upon us like magic. has been acknowledged by us to be full of these and ten thou- True. sand similar oppositions occurring at the same moment? And the arts of measuring and numbering and weighing And we were right, he said. come to the rescue of the human understanding Ð there is the Yes, I said, thus far we were right; but there was an omis- beauty of them Ð and the apparent greater or less, or more sion which must now be supplied. or heavier, no longer have the mastery over us, but give way What was the omission? before calculation and measure and weight? Were we not saying that a good man, who has the misfor- Most true. tune to lose his son or anything else which is most dear to him, And this, surely, must be the work of the calculating and will bear the loss with more equanimity than another? rational principle in the soul? Yes. To be sure. But will he have no sorrow, or shall we say that although he And when this principle measures and certifies that some cannot help sorrowing, he will moderate his sorrow? things are equal, or that some are greater or less than others, The latter, he said, is the truer statement. there occurs an apparent contradiction? Tell me: will he be more likely to struggle and hold out True. against his sorrow when he is seen by his equals, or when he But were we not saying that such a contradiction is impos- is alone? sible Ð the same faculty cannot have contrary opinions at the It will make a great difference whether he is seen or not. same time about the same thing? When he is by himself he will not mind saying or doing Very true. many things which he would be ashamed of any one hearing Then that part of the soul which has an opinion contrary or seeing him do? to measure is not the same with that which has an opinion in True. accordance with measure? There is a principle of law and reason in him which bids True. him resist, as well as a feeling of his misfortune which is forc- And the better part of the soul is likely to be that which ing him to indulge his sorrow? trusts to measure and calculation? True. Certainly. But when a man is drawn in two opposite directions, to and And that which is opposed to them is one of the inferior from the same object, this, as we affirm, necessarily implies principles of the soul? two distinct principles in him? No doubt. Certainly. This was the conclusion at which I was seeking to arrive One of them is ready to follow the guidance of the law? when I said that painting or drawing, and imitation in gen- How do you mean? eral, when doing their own proper work, are far removed from The law would say that to be patient under suffering is best, truth, and the companions and friends and associates of a and that we should not give way to impatience, as there is no principle within us which is equally removed from reason, and knowing whether such things are good or evil; and nothing that they have no true or healthy aim. is gained by impatience; also, because no human thing is of Exactly. serious importance, and grief stands in the way of that which The imitative art is an inferior who marries an inferior, and at the moment is most required. has inferior offspring. What is most required? he asked. 145

That we should take counsel about what has happened, and and are in raptures at the excellence of the poet who stirs our when the dice have been thrown order our affairs in the way feelings most. which reason deems best; not, like children who have had a Yes, of course I know. fall, keeping hold of the part struck and wasting time in setting But when any sorrow of our own happens to us, then you up a howl, but always accustoming the soul forthwith to apply may observe that we pride ourselves on the opposite quality Ð a remedy, raising up that which is sickly and fallen, banishing we would fain be quiet and patient; this is the manly part, and the cry of sorrow by the healing art. the other which delighted us in the recitation is now deemed Yes, he said, that is the true way of meeting the attacks of to be the part of a woman. fortune. Very true, he said. Yes, I said; and the higher principle is ready to follow this Now can we be right in praising and admiring another who suggestion of reason? is doing that which any one of us would abominate and be Clearly. ashamed of in his own person? And the other principle, which inclines us to recollection of No, he said, that is certainly not reasonable. our troubles and to lamentation, and can never have enough of Nay, I said, quite reasonable from one point of view. them, we may call irrational, useless, and cowardly? What point of view? Indeed, we may. If you consider, I said, that when in misfortune we feel And does not the latter Ð I mean the rebellious principle Ð a natural hunger and desire to relieve our sorrow by weep- furnish a great variety of materials for imitation? Whereas the ing and lamentation, and that this feeling which is kept under wise and calm temperament, being always nearly equable, is control in our own calamities is satisfied and delighted by the not easy to imitate or to appreciate when imitated, especially poets; Ð the better nature in each of us, not having been suf- at a public festival when a promiscuous crowd is assembled in ficiently trained by reason or habit, allows the sympathetic a theater. For the feeling represented is one to which they are element to break loose because the sorrow is another’s; and strangers. the spectator fancies that there can be no disgrace to himself Certainly. in praising and pitying any one who comes telling him what Then the imitative poet who aims at being popular is not a good man he is, and making a fuss about his troubles; he by nature made, nor is his art intended, to please or to affect thinks that the pleasure is a gain, and why should he be su- the principle in the soul; but he will prefer the passionate and percilious and lose this and the poem too? Few persons ever fitful temper, which is easily imitated? reflect, as I should imagine, that from the evil of other men Clearly. something of evil is communicated to themselves. And so the And now we may fairly take him and place him by the side feeling of sorrow which has gathered strength at the sight of of the painter, for he is like him in two ways: first, inasmuch the misfortunes of others is with difficulty repressed in our as his creations have an inferior degree of truth Ð in this, I say, own. he is like him; and he is also like him in being concerned with How very true! an inferior part of the soul; and therefore we shall be right And does not the same hold also of the ridiculous? There in refusing to admit him into a well-ordered State, because he are jests which you would be ashamed to make yourself, and awakens and nourishes and strengthens the feelings and im- yet on the comic stage, or indeed in private, when you hear pairs the reason. As in a city when the evil are permitted to them, you are greatly amused by them, and are not at all dis- have authority and the good are put out of the way, so in the gusted at their unseemliness; Ð the case of pity is repeated; Ð soul of man, as we maintain, the imitative poet implants an there is a principle in human nature which is disposed to raise evil constitution, for he indulges the irrational nature which a laugh, and this which you once restrained by reason, be- has no discernment of greater and less, but thinks the same cause you were afraid of being thought a buffoon, is now let thing at one time great and at another small Ð he is a manufac- out again; and having stimulated the risible faculty at the the- turer of images and is very far removed from the truth. ater, you are betrayed unconsciously to yourself into playing Exactly. the comic poet at home. Quite true, he said. And the same may be said of lust and anger and all the other 3.6.3. The Effect of Dramatic Poetry on Character affections, of desire and pain and pleasure, which are held to be inseparable from every action Ð in all of them poetry feeds But we have not yet brought forward the heaviest count and waters the passions instead of drying them up; she lets in our accusation: Ð the power which poetry has of harming them rule, although they ought to be controlled, if mankind even the good (and there are very few who are not harmed), is are ever to increase in happiness and virtue. surely an awful thing? I cannot deny it. Yes, certainly, if the effect is what you say. Therefore, Glaucon, I said, whenever you meet with any of Hear and judge: The best of us, as I conceive, when we the eulogists of Homer declaring that he has been the educator listen to a passage of Homer, or one of the tragedians, in of Hellas, and that he is profitable for education and for the which he represents some pitiful hero who is drawling out his ordering of human things, and that you should take him up sorrows in a long oration, or weeping, and smiting his breast again and again and get to know him and regulate your whole Ð the best of us, you know, delight in giving way to sympathy, life according to him, we may love and honour those who 146 say these things Ð they are excellent people, as far as their Yes, he said, I quite agree with you. lights extend; and we are ready to acknowledge that Homer Yes, I said, my dear Glaucon, for great is the issue at stake, is the greatest of poets and first of tragedy writers; but we greater than appears, whether a man is to be good or bad. And must remain firm in our conviction that hymns to the gods and what will any one be profited if under the influence of honour praises of famous men are the only poetry which ought to be or money or power, aye, or under the excitement of poetry, he admitted into our State. For if you go beyond this and allow neglect justice and virtue? the honeyed muse to enter, either in epic or lyric verse, not Yes, he said; I have been convinced by the argument, as I law and the reason of mankind, which by common consent believe that any one else would have been. have ever been deemed best, but pleasure and pain will be the rulers in our State. That is most true, he said. 3.7. Immortality and the Rewards of Justice And now since we have reverted to the subject of poetry, let this our defence serve to show the reasonableness of our 3.7.1. A Proof of Immortality former judgment in sending away out of our State an art hav- ing the tendencies which we have described; for reason con- And yet no mention has been made of the greatest prizes strained us. But that she may impute to us any harshness or and rewards which await virtue. want of politeness, let us tell her that there is an ancient quar- rel between philosophy and poetry; of which there are many What, are there any greater still? If there are, they must be proofs, such as the saying of “the yelping hound howling at of an inconceivable greatness. her lord,” or of one “mighty in the vain talk of fools,” and “the Why, I said, what was ever great in a short time? The whole mob of sages circumventing Zeus,” and the “subtle thinkers period of threescore years and ten is surely but a little thing in who are beggars after all”; and there are innumerable other comparison with eternity? signs of ancient enmity between them. Notwithstanding this, Say rather “nothing,” he replied. let us assure our sweet friend and the sister arts of imitation And should an immortal being seriously think of this little that if she will only prove her title to exist in a well-ordered space rather than of the whole? State we shall be delighted to receive her Ð we are very con- Of the whole, certainly. But why do you ask? scious of her charms; but we may not on that account betray Are you not aware, I said, that the soul of man is immortal the truth. I dare say, Glaucon, that you are as much charmed and imperishable? by her as I am, especially when she appears in Homer? He looked at me in astonishment, and said: No, by heaven: Yes, indeed, I am greatly charmed. And are you really prepared to maintain this? Shall I propose, then, that she be allowed to return from Yes, I said, I ought to be, and you too Ð there is no difficulty exile, but upon this condition only Ð that she make a defence in proving it. of herself in lyrical or some other meter? I see a great difficulty; but I should like to hear you state Certainly. this argument of which you make so light. And we may further grant to those of her defenders who are Listen then. lovers of poetry and yet not poets the permission to speak in I am attending. prose on her behalf: let them show not only that she is pleasant There is a thing which you call good and another which but also useful to States and to human life, and we will listen you call evil? in a kindly spirit; for if this can be proved we shall surely be Yes, he replied. the gainers Ð I mean, if there is a use in poetry as well as a Would you agree with me in thinking that the corrupting delight? and destroying element is the evil, and the saving and improv- Certainly, he said, we shall the gainers. ing element the good? If her defence fails, then, my dear friend, like other per- Yes. sons who are enamoured of something, but put a restraint upon And you admit that every thing has a good and also an evil; themselves when they think their desires are opposed to their as ophthalmia is the evil of the eyes and disease of the whole interests, so too must we after the manner of lovers give her body; as mildew is of corn, and rot of timber, or rust of copper up, though not without a struggle. We too are inspired by that and iron: in everything, or in almost everything, there is an love of poetry which the education of noble States has im- inherent evil and disease? planted in us, and therefore we would have her appear at her best and truest; but so long as she is unable to make good her Yes, he said. defence, this argument of ours shall be a charm to us, which And anything which is infected by any of these evils is we will repeat to ourselves while we listen to her strains; that made evil, and at last wholly dissolves and dies? we may not fall away into the childish love of her which cap- True. tivates the many. At all events we are well aware that poetry The vice and evil which is inherent in each is the destruction being such as we have described is not to be regarded seriously of each; and if this does not destroy them there is nothing else as attaining to the truth; and he who listens to her, fearing for that will; for good certainly will not destroy them, nor again, the safety of the city which is within him, should be on his that which is neither good nor evil. guard against her seductions and make our words his law. Certainly not. 147

If, then, we find any nature which having this inherent cor- right, I suppose that injustice, like disease, must be assumed ruption cannot be dissolved or destroyed, we may be certain to be fatal to the unjust, and that those who take this disorder that of such a nature there is no destruction? die by the natural inherent power of destruction which evil That may be assumed. has, and which kills them sooner or later, but in quite another Well, I said, and is there no evil which corrupts the soul? way from that in which, at present, the wicked receive death Yes, he said, there are all the evils which we were just at the hands of others as the penalty of their deeds? now passing in review: unrighteousness, intemperance, cow- Nay, he said, in that case injustice, if fatal to the unjust, will ardice, ignorance. not be so very terrible to him, for he will be delivered from But does any of these dissolve or destroy her? Ð and here evil. But I rather suspect the opposite to be the truth, and that do not let us fall into the error of supposing that the unjust and injustice which, if it have the power, will murder others, keeps foolish man, when he is detected, perishes through his own the murderer alive Ð aye, and well awake too; so far removed injustice, which is an evil of the soul. Take the analogy of is her dwelling-place from being a house of death. the body: The evil of the body is a disease which wastes and True, I said; if the inherent natural vice or evil of the soul reduces and annihilates the body; and all the things of which is unable to kill or destroy her, hardly will that which is ap- we were just now speaking come to annihilation through their pointed to be the destruction of some other body, destroy a own corruption attaching to them and inhering in them and so soul or anything else except that of which it was appointed to destroying them. Is not this true? be the destruction. Yes. Yes, that can hardly be. Consider the soul in like manner. Does the injustice or other But the soul which cannot be destroyed by an evil, whether evil which exists in the soul waste and consume her? Do they inherent or external, must exist for ever, and if existing for by attaching to the soul and inhering in her at last bring her to ever, must be immortal? death, and so separate her from the body? Certainly. Certainly not. That is the conclusion, I said; and, if a true conclusion, And yet, I said, it is unreasonable to suppose that any- then the souls must always be the same, for if none be de- thing can perish from without through affection of external stroyed they will not diminish in number. Neither will they evil which could not be destroyed from within by a corruption increase, for the increase of the immortal natures must come of its own? from something mortal, and all things would thus end in im- It is, he replied. mortality. Consider, I said, Glaucon, that even the badness of food, Very true. whether staleness, decomposition, or any other bad quality, But this we cannot believe Ð reason will not allow us Ð any when confined to the actual food, is not supposed to destroy more than we can believe the soul, in her truest nature, to be the body; although, if the badness of food communicates cor- full of variety and difference and dissimilarity. ruption to the body, then we should say that the body has been What do you mean? he said. destroyed by a corruption of itself, which is disease, brought The soul, I said, being, as is now proven, immortal, must on by this; but that the body, being one thing, can be de- be the fairest of compositions and cannot be compounded of stroyed by the badness of food, which is another, and which many elements? does not engender any natural infection Ð this we shall abso- Certainly not. lutely deny? Her immortality is demonstrated by the previous argument, Very true. and there are many other proofs; but to see her as she really And, on the same principle, unless some bodily evil can is, not as we now behold her, marred by communion with the produce an evil of the soul, we must not suppose that the soul, body and other miseries, you must contemplate her with the which is one thing, can be dissolved by any merely external eye of reason, in her original purity; and then her beauty will evil which belongs to another? be revealed, and justice and injustice and all the things which Yes, he said, there is reason in that. we have described will be manifested more clearly. Thus far, Either then, let us refute this conclusion, or, while it re- we have spoken the truth concerning her as she appears at mains unrefuted, let us never say that fever, or any other dis- present, but we must remember also that we have seen her ease, or the knife put to the throat, or even the cutting up of only in a condition which may be compared to that of the sea- the whole body into the minutest pieces, can destroy the soul, god Glaucus, whose original image can hardly be discerned until she herself is proved to become more unholy or unrigh- because his natural members are broken off and crushed and teous in consequence of these things being done to the body; damaged by the waves in all sorts of ways, and incrustations but that the soul, or anything else if not destroyed by an in- have grown over them of seaweed and shells and stones, so ternal evil, can be destroyed by an external one, is not to. be that he is more like some monster than he is to his own natural affirmed by any man. form. And the soul which we behold is in a similar condition, And surely, he replied, no one will ever prove that the souls disfigured by ten thousand ills. But not there, Glaucon, not of men become more unjust in consequence of death. there must we look. But if some one who would rather not admit the immortality Where then? of the soul boldly denies this, and says that the dying do re- At her love of wisdom. Let us see whom she affects, ally become more evil and unrighteous, then, if the speaker is and what society and converse she seeks in virtue of her near 148 kindred with the immortal and eternal and divine; also how necessary consequence of former sins? different she would become if wholly following this superior Certainly. principle, and borne by a divine impulse out of the ocean in Then this must be our notion of the just man, that even when which she now is, and disengaged from the stones and shells he is in poverty or sickness, or any other seeming misfortune, and things of earth and rock which in wild variety spring up all things will in the end work together for good to him in life around her because she feeds upon earth, and is overgrown by and death: for the gods have a care of any one whose desire is the good things of this life as they are termed: then you would to become just and to be like God, as far as man can attain the see her as she is, and know whether she has one shape only divine likeness, by the pursuit of virtue? or many, or what her nature is. Of her affections and of the Yes, he said; if he is like God he will surely not be neglected forms which she takes in this present life I think that we have by him. now said enough. And of the unjust may not the opposite be supposed? True, he replied. Certainly. Such, then, are the palms of victory which the gods give the just? 3.7.2. The Rewards of Justice in this Life That is my conviction. And what do they receive of men? Look at things as they And thus, I said, we have fulfilled the conditions of the really are, and you will see that the clever unjust are in the argument; we have not introduced the rewards and glories of case of runners, who run well from the starting-place to the justice, which, as you were saying, are to be found in Homer goal but not back again from the goal: they go off at a great and Hesiod; but justice in her own nature has been shown to pace, but in the end only look foolish, slinking away with be best for the soul in her own nature. Let a man do what is their ears draggling on their shoulders, and without a crown; just, whether he have the ring of Gyges or not, and even if in but the true runner comes to the finish and receives the prize addition to the ring of Gyges he put on the helmet of Hades. and is crowned. And this is the way with the just; he who Very true. endures to the end of every action and occasion of his entire And now, Glaucon, there will be no harm in further enumer- life has a good report and carries off the prize which men have ating how many and how great are the rewards which justice to bestow. and the other virtues procure to the soul from gods and men, True. both in life and after death. And now you must allow me to repeat of the just the bless- Certainly not, he said. ings which you were attributing to the fortunate unjust. I shall Will you repay me, then, what you borrowed in the argu- say of them, what you were saying of the others, that as they ment? grow older, they become rulers in their own city if they care to What did I borrow? be; they marry whom they like and give in marriage to whom The assumption that the just man should appear unjust and they will; all that you said of the others I now say of these. the unjust just: for you were of opinion that even if the true And, on the other hand, of the unjust I say that the greater state of the case could not possibly escape the eyes of gods number, even though they escape in their youth, are found out and men, still this admission ought to be made for the sake at last and look foolish at the end of their course, and when of the argument, in order that pure justice might be weighed they come to be old and miserable are flouted alike by stranger against pure injustice. Do you remember? and citizen; they are beaten and then come those things un- I should be much to blame if I had forgotten. fit for ears polite, as you truly term them; they will be racked Then, as the cause is decided, I demand on behalf of justice and have their eyes burned out, as you were saying. And you that the estimation in which she is held by gods and men and may suppose that I have repeated the remainder of your tale which we acknowledge to be her due should now be restored of horrors. But will you let me assume, without reciting them, to her by us; since she has been shown to confer reality, and that these things are true? not to deceive those who truly possess her, let what has been Certainly, he said, what you say is true. taken from her be given back, that so she may win that palm of appearance which is hers also, and which she gives to her own. 3.7.3. The Rewards of Justice after Death. The Myth of Er The demand, he said, is just. In the first place, I said Ð and this is the first thing which These, then, are the prizes and rewards and gifts which are you will have to give back Ð the nature both of the just and bestowed upon the just by gods and men in this present life, unjust is truly known to the gods. in addition to the other good things which justice of herself Granted. provides. And if they are both known to them, one must be the friend Yes, he said; and they are fair and lasting. and the other the enemy of the gods, as we admitted from the And yet, I said, all these are as nothing, either in number or beginning? greatness in comparison with those other recompenses which True. await both just and unjust after death. And you ought to hear And the friend of the gods may be supposed to receive from them, and then both just and unjust will have received from us them all things at their best, excepting only such evil as is the a full payment of the debt which the argument owes to them. 149

Speak, he said; there are few things which I would more and had murdered his aged father and his elder brother, and gladly hear. was said to have committed many other abominable crimes.) The answer of the other spirit was: “He comes not hither and Well, I said, I will tell you a tale; not one of the tales which will never come. And this,” said he, “was one of the dreadful Odysseus tells to the hero Alcinous, yet this too is a tale of sights which we ourselves witnessed. We were at the mouth a hero, Er the son of Armenius, a Pamphylian by birth. He of the cavern, and, having completed all our experiences, were was slain in battle, and ten days afterwards, when the bodies about to reascend, when of a sudden Ardiaeus appeared and of the dead were taken up already in a state of corruption, his several others, most of whom were tyrants; and there were body was found unaffected by decay, and carried away home also besides the tyrants private individuals who had been to be buried. And on the twelfth day, as he was lying on the great criminals: they were just, as they fancied, about to re- funeral pile, he returned to life and told them what he had seen turn into the upper world, but the mouth, instead of admitting in the other world. He said that when his soul left the body he them, gave a roar, whenever any of these incurable sinners or went on a journey with a great company, and that they came some one who had not been sufficiently punished tried to as- to a mysterious place at which there were two openings in the cend; and then wild men of fiery aspect, who were standing earth; they were near together, and over against them were two by and heard the sound, seized and carried them off; and Ar- other openings in the heaven above. In the intermediate space diaeus and others they bound head and foot and hand, and there were judges seated, who commanded the just, after they threw them down and flayed them with scourges, and dragged had given judgment on them and had bound their sentences them along the road at the side, carding them on thorns like in front of them, to ascend by the heavenly way on the right wool, and declaring to the passers-by what were their crimes, hand; and in like manner the unjust were bidden by them to and that they were being taken away to be cast into hell.” And descend by the lower way on the left hand; these also bore the of all the many terrors which they had endured, he said that symbols of their deeds, but fastened on their backs. He drew there was none like the terror which each of them felt at that near, and they told him that he was to be the messenger who moment, lest they should hear the voice; and when there was would carry the report of the other world to men, and they silence, one by one they ascended with exceeding joy. These, bade him hear and see all that was to be heard and seen in that said Er, were the penalties and retributions, and there were place. Then he beheld and saw on one side the souls departing blessings as great. at either opening of heaven and earth when sentence had been given on them; and at the two other openings other souls, some Now when the spirits which were in the meadow had tar- ascending out of the earth dusty and worn with travel, some ried seven days, on the eighth they were obliged to proceed descending out of heaven clean and bright. And arriving ever on their journey, and, on the fourth day after, he said that they and anon they seemed to have come from a long journey, and came to a place where they could see from above a line of they went forth with gladness into the meadow, where they light, straight as a column, extending right through the whole encamped as at a festival; and those who knew one another heaven and through the earth, in colour resembling the rain- embraced and conversed, the souls which came from earth cu- bow, only brighter and purer; another day’s journey brought riously enquiring about the things above, and the souls which them to the place, and there, in the midst of the light, they saw came from heaven about the things beneath. And they told the ends of the chains of heaven let down from above: for this one another of what had happened by the way, those from be- light is the belt of heaven, and holds together the circle of the low weeping and sorrowing at the remembrance of the things universe, like the under-girders of a trireme. From these ends which they had endured and seen in their journey beneath the is extended the spindle of Necessity, on which all the revolu- earth (now the journey lasted a thousand years), while those tions turn. The shaft and hook of this spindle are made of steel, from above were describing heavenly delights and visions of and the whorl is made partly of steel and also partly of other inconceivable beauty. The Story, Glaucon, would take too materials. Now the whorl is in form like the whorl used on long to tell; but the sum was this: Ð He said that for every earth; and the description of it implied that there is one large wrong which they had done to any one they suffered tenfold; hollow whorl which is quite scooped out, and into this is fitted or once in a hundred years Ð such being reckoned to be the another lesser one, and another, and another, and four others, length of man’s life, and the penalty being thus paid ten times making eight in all, like vessels which fit into one another; the in a thousand years. If, for example, there were any who had whorls show their edges on the upper side, and on their lower been the cause of many deaths, or had betrayed or enslaved side all together form one continuous whorl. This is pierced cities or armies, or been guilty of any other evil behaviour, for by the spindle, which is driven home through the centre of the each and all of their offences they received punishment ten eighth. The first and outermost whorl has the rim broadest, times over, and the rewards of beneficence and justice and and the seven inner whorls are narrower, in the following pro- holiness were in the same proportion. I need hardly repeat portions Ð the sixth is next to the first in size, the fourth next what he said concerning young children dying almost as soon to the sixth; then comes the eighth; the seventh is fifth, the as they were born. Of piety and impiety to gods and parents, fifth is sixth, the third is seventh, last and eighth comes the and of murderers, there were retributions other and greater second. The largest is spangled, and the seventh is brightest; far which he described. He mentioned that he was present the eighth coloured by the reflected light of the seventh; the when one of the spirits asked another, “Where is Ardiaeus the second and fifth are in colour like one another, and yellower Great?” (Now this Ardiaeus lived a thousand years before the than the preceding; the third has the whitest light; the fourth time of Er: he had been the tyrant of some city of Pamphylia, is reddish; the sixth is in whiteness second. Now the whole 150 spindle has the same motion; but, as the whole revolves in one tween good and evil, and so to choose always and everywhere direction, the seven inner circles move slowly in the other, and the better life as he has opportunity. He should consider the of these the swiftest is the eighth; next in swiftness are the bearing of all these things which have been mentioned sev- seventh, sixth, and fifth, which move together; third in swift- erally and collectively upon virtue; he should know what the ness appeared to move according to the law of this reversed effect of beauty is when combined with poverty or wealth in a motion the fourth; the third appeared fourth and the second particular soul, and what are the good and evil consequences fifth. The spindle turns on the knees of Necessity; and on the of noble and humble birth, of private and public station, of upper surface of each circle is a siren, who goes round with strength and weakness, of cleverness and dullness, and of all them, hymning a single tone or note. The eight together form the natural and acquired gifts of the soul, and the operation one harmony; and round about, at equal intervals, there is of them when conjoined; he will then look at the nature of another band, three in number, each sitting upon her throne: the soul, and from the consideration of all these qualities he these are the Fates, daughters of Necessity, who are clothed in will be able to determine which is the better and which is the white robes and have chaplets upon their heads, Lachesis and worse; and so he will choose, giving the name of evil to the Clotho and Atropos, who accompany with their voices the har- life which will make his soul more unjust, and good to the life mony of the sirens Ð Lachesis singing of the past, Clotho of which will make his soul more just; all else he will disregard. the present, Atropos of the future; Clotho from time to time For we have seen and know that this is the best choice both assisting with a touch of her right hand the revolution of the in life and after death. A man must take with him into the outer circle of the whorl or spindle, and Atropos with her left world below an adamantine faith in truth and right, that there hand touching and guiding the inner ones, and Lachesis lay- too he may be undazzled by the desire of wealth or the other ing hold of either in turn, first with one hand and then with the allurements of evil, lest, coming upon tyrannies and similar other. villainies, he do irremediable wrongs to others and suffer yet worse himself; but let him know how to choose the mean and When Er and the spirits arrived, their duty was to go at once avoid the extremes on either side, as far as possible, not only to Lachesis; but first of all there came a prophet who arranged in this life but in all that which is to come. For this is the way them in order; then he took from the knees of Lachesis lots of happiness. and samples of lives, and having mounted a high pulpit, spoke as follows: “Hear the word of Lachesis, the daughter of Ne- And according to the report of the messenger from the other cessity. Mortal souls, behold a new cycle of life and mortal- world this was what the prophet said at the time: “Even for ity. Your genius will not be allotted to you, but you choose the last comer, if he chooses wisely and will live diligently, your genius; and let him who draws the first lot have the first there is appointed a happy and not undesirable existence. Let choice, and the life which he chooses shall be his destiny. not him who chooses first be careless, and let not the last de- Virtue is free, and as a man honours or dishonours her he will spair.” And when he had spoken, he who had the first choice have more or less of her; the responsibility is with the chooser came forward and in a moment chose the greatest tyranny; Ð God is justified.” When the Interpreter had thus spoken he his mind having been darkened by folly and sensuality, he scattered lots indifferently among them all, and each of them had not thought out the whole matter before he chose, and took up the lot which fell near him, all but Er himself (he was did not at first sight perceive that he was fated, among other not allowed), and each as he took his lot perceived the num- evils, to devour his own children. But when he had time to re- ber which he had obtained. Then the Interpreter placed on flect, and saw what was in the lot, he began to beat his breast the ground before them the samples of lives; and there were and lament over his choice, forgetting the proclamation of the many more lives than the souls present, and they were of all prophet; for, instead of throwing the blame of his misfortune sorts. There were lives of every animal and of man in every on himself, he accused chance and the gods, and everything condition. And there were tyrannies among them, some last- rather than himself. Now he was one of those who came from ing out the tyrant’s life, others which broke off in the middle heaven, and in a former life had dwelt in a well-ordered State, and came to an end in poverty and exile and beggary; and but his virtue was a matter of habit only, and he had no philos- there were lives of famous men, some who were famous for ophy. And it was true of others who were similarly overtaken, their form and beauty as well as for their strength and suc- that the greater number of them came from heaven and there- cess in games, or, again, for their birth and the qualities of fore they had never been schooled by trial, whereas the pil- their ancestors; and some who were the reverse of famous for grims who came from earth, having themselves suffered and the opposite qualities. And of women likewise; there was not, seen others suffer, were not in a hurry to choose. And owing however, any definite character them, because the soul, when to this inexperience of theirs, and also because the lot was a choosing a new life, must of necessity become different. But chance, many of the souls exchanged a good destiny for an there was every other quality, and they all mingled with one evil or an evil for a good. For if a man had always on his ar- another, and also with elements of wealth and poverty, and rival in this world dedicated himself from the first to sound disease and health; and there were mean states also. And here, philosophy, and had been moderately fortunate in the num- my dear Glaucon, is the supreme peril of our human state; and ber of the lot, he might, as the messenger reported, be happy therefore the utmost care should be taken. Let each one of us here, and also his journey to another life and return to this, leave every other kind of knowledge and seek and follow one instead of being rough and underground, would be smooth thing only, if peradventure he may be able to learn and may and heavenly. Most curious, he said, was the spectacle Ð sad find some one who will make him able to learn and discern be- and laughable and strange; for the choice of the souls was in 151 most cases based on their experience of a previous life. There our soul will not be defiled. Wherefore my counsel is that we he saw the soul which had once been Orpheus choosing the hold fast ever to the heavenly way and follow after justice and life of a swan out of enmity to the race of women, hating to virtue always, considering that the soul is immortal and able to be born of a woman because they had been his murderers; endure every sort of good and every sort of evil. Thus shall we he beheld also the soul of Thamyras choosing the life of a live dear to one another and to the gods, both while remaining nightingale; birds, on the other hand, like the swan and other here and when, like conquerors in the games who go round to musicians, wanting to be men. The soul which obtained the gather gifts, we receive our reward. And it shall be well with twentieth lot chose the life of a lion, and this was the soul of us both in this life and in the pilgrimage of a thousand years Ajax the son of Telamon, who would not be a man, remember- which we have been describing. ing the injustice which was done him in the judgment about the arms. The next was Agamemnon, who took the life of an eagle, because, like Ajax, he hated human nature by reason 4. PHAEDO of his sufferings. About the middle came the lot of Atalanta; she, seeing the great fame of an athlete, was unable to resist 4.1. Prologue the temptation: and after her there followed the soul of Epeus the son of Panopeus passing into the nature of a woman cun- ECHECRATES. Were you yourself, Phaedo, in the prison ning in the arts; and far away among the last who chose, the with Socrates on the day when he drank the poison? soul of the jester Thersites was putting on the form of a mon- PHAEDO. Yes, Echecrates, I was. key. There came also the soul of Odysseus having yet to make ECHECRATES. I wish that you would tell me about his a choice, and his lot happened to be the last of them all. Now death. What did he say in his last hours? We were informed the recollection of former toils had disenchanted him of am- that he died by taking poison, but no one knew anything more; bition, and he went about for a considerable time in search for no Phliasian ever goes to Athens now, and a long time has of the life of a private man who had no cares; he had some elapsed since any Athenian found his way to Phlius, and there- difficulty in finding this, which was lying about and had been fore we had no clear account. neglected by everybody else; and when he saw it, he said that PHAEDO. Did you not hear of the proceedings at the trial? he would have done the same had his lot been first instead ECHECRATES. Yes; someone told us about the trial, and we of last, and that he was delighted to have it. And not only did could not understand why, having been condemned, he was men pass into animals, but I must also mention that there were put to death, as appeared, not at the time, but long afterwards. animals tame and wild who changed into one another and into What was the reason of this? corresponding human natures Ð the good into the gentle and PHAEDO. An accident, Echecrates. The reason was that the the evil into the savage, in all sorts of combinations. stern of the ship which the Athenians send to Delos happened All the souls had now chosen their lives, and they went in to have been crowned on the day before he was tried. the order of their choice to Lachesis, who sent with them the ECHECRATES. What is this ship? genius whom they had severally chosen, to be the guardian of PHAEDO. This is the ship in which, as the Athenians say, their lives and the fulfiller of the choice: this genius led the Theseus went to Crete when he took with him the fourteen souls first to Clotho, and drew them within the revolution of youths, and was the saviour of them and of himself. And they the spindle impelled by her hand, thus ratifying the destiny of were said to have vowed to Apollo at the time, that if they were each; and then, when they were fastened to this, carried them saved they would make an annual pilgrimage to Delos. Now to Atropos, who spun the threads and made them irreversible, this custom still continues, and the whole period of the voy- whence without turning round they passed beneath the throne age to and from Delos, beginning when the priest of Apollo of Necessity; and when they had all passed, they marched on crowns the stern of the ship, is a holy season, during which the in a scorching heat to the plain of Forgetfulness, which was a city is not allowed to be polluted by public executions; and of- barren waste destitute of trees and verdure; and then towards ten, when the vessel is detained by adverse winds, there may evening they encamped by the river of Unmindfulness, whose be a very considerable delay. As I was saying, the ship was water no vessel can hold; of this they were all obliged to drink crowned on the day before the trial, and this was the reason a certain quantity, and those who were not saved by wisdom why Socrates lay in prison and was not put to death until long drank more than was necessary; and each one as he drank after he was condemned. forgot all things. Now after they had gone to rest, about the ECHECRATES. What was the manner of his death, Phaedo? middle of the night there was a thunderstorm and earthquake, What was said or done? And which of his friends had he and then in an instant they were driven upwards in all manner with him? Or were they not allowed by the authorities to be of ways to their birth, like stars shooting. He himself was present? And did he die alone? hindered from drinking the water. But in what manner or by PHAEDO. No; there were several of his friends with him. what means he returned to the body he could not say; only, in ECHECRATES. If you have nothing to do, I wish that you the morning, awaking suddenly, he found himself lying on the would tell me what passed, as exactly as you can. pyre. PHAEDO. I have nothing to do, and will try to gratify your And thus, Glaucon, the tale has been saved and has not per- wish. For to me too there is no greater pleasure than to have ished, and will save us if we are obedient to the word spoken; Socrates brought to my recollection, whether I speak myself and we shall pass safely over the river of Forgetfulness and or hear another speak of him. 152

ECHECRATES. You will have listeners who are of the same come in. On entering we found Socrates just released from mind with you, and I hope that you will be as exact as you chains, and Xanthippe, whom you know, sitting by him, and can. holding his child in her arms. When she saw us she uttered a PHAEDO. I remember the strange feeling which came over cry and said, as women will: “O Socrates, this is the last time me at being with him. For I could hardly believe that I was that either you will converse with your friends, or they with present at the death of a friend, and therefore I did not pity you.” Socrates turned to Crito and said: “Crito, let someone him, Echecrates; his mien and his language were so noble and take her home.” Some of Crito’s people accordingly led her fearless in the hour of death that to me he appeared blessed. I away, crying out and beating herself. And when she was thought that in going to the other world he could not be with- gone, Socrates, sitting up on the couch, began to bend and rub out a divine call, and that he would be happy, if any man ever his leg, saying, as he rubbed: “How singular is the thing called was, when he arrived there; and therefore I did not pity him as pleasure, and how curiously related to pain, which might be might seem natural at such a time. But neither could I feel the thought to be the opposite of it; for they never come to a man pleasure which I usually felt in philosophical discourse (for together, and yet he who pursues either of them is generally philosophy was the theme of which we spoke). I was pleased compelled to take the other. They are two, and yet they grow and I was also pained, because I knew that he was soon to die, together out of one head or stem; and I cannot help thinking and this strange mixture of feeling was shared by us all; we that if Aesop had noticed them, he would have made a fable were laughing and weeping by turns, especially the excitable about God trying to reconcile their strife, and when he could Apollodorus Ð you know the sort of man? not, he fastened their heads together; and this is the reason ECHECRATES. Yes. why when one comes the other follows, as I find in my own PHAEDO. He was quite overcome; and I myself and all of case pleasure comes following after the pain in my leg which us were greatly moved. was caused by the chain.” ECHECRATES. Who were present? Upon this Cebes said: I am very glad indeed, Socrates, that PHAEDO. Of native Athenians there were, besides Apol- you mentioned the name of Aesop. For that reminds me of lodorus, Critobulus and his father Crito, Hermogenes, Epi- a question which has been asked by others, and was asked of genes, Aeschines, and Antisthenes; likewise Ctesippus of the me only the day before yesterday by Evenus the poet, and as deme of Paeania, Menexenus, and some others; but Plato, if I he will be sure to ask again, you may as well tell me what I am not mistaken, was ill. should say to him, if you would like him to have an answer. ECHECRATES. Were there any strangers? He wanted to know why you who never before wrote a line PHAEDO. Yes, there were; Simmias the Theban, and of poetry, now that you are in prison are putting Aesop into Cebes, and Phaedondes; Euclid and Terpison, who came from verse, and also composing that hymn in honor of Apollo. Megara. Tell him, Cebes, he replied, that I had no idea of rivaling ECHECRATES. And was Aristippus there, and Cleombro- him or his poems; which is the truth, for I knew that I could tus? not do that. But I wanted to see whether I could purge away PHAEDO. No, they were said to be in Aegina. a scruple which I felt about certain dreams. In the course of ECHECRATES. Anyone else? my life I have often had intimations in dreams “that I should PHAEDO. I think that these were about all. make music.” The same dream came to me sometimes in one ECHECRATES. And what was the discourse of which you form, and sometimes in another, but always saying the same spoke? or nearly the same words: Make and cultivate music, said the dream. And hitherto I had imagined that this was only in- tended to exhort and encourage me in the study of philosophy, 4.2. Death and the Philosopher which has always been the pursuit of my life, and is the no- blest and best of music. The dream was bidding me do what PHAEDO. I will begin at the beginning, and endeavor to I was already doing, in the same way that the competitor in a repeat the entire conversation. You must understand that we race is bidden by the spectators to run when he is already run- had been previously in the habit of assembling early in the ning. But I was not certain of this, as the dream might have morning at the court in which the trial was held, and which is meant music in the popular sense of the word, and being un- not far from the prison. There we remained talking with one der sentence of death, and the festival giving me a respite, I another until the opening of the prison doors (for they were thought that I should be safer if I satisfied the scruple, and, not opened very early), and then went in and generally passed in obedience to the dream, composed a few verses before I the day with Socrates. On the last morning the meeting was departed. And first I made a hymn in honor of the god of the earlier than usual; this was owing to our having heard on the festival, and then considering that a poet, if he is really to be previous evening that the sacred ship had arrived from Delos, a poet or maker, should not only put words together but make and therefore we agreed to meet very early at the accustomed stories, and as I have no invention, I took some fables of Ae- place. On our going to the prison, the jailer who answered the sop, which I had ready at hand and knew, and turned them into door, instead of admitting us, came out and bade us wait and verse. Tell Evenus this, and bid him be of good cheer; say that he would call us. “For the Eleven,” he said, “are now with I would have him come after me if he be a wise man, and not Socrates; they are taking off his chains, and giving orders that tarry; and that today I am likely to be going, for the Athenians he is to die today.” He soon returned and said that we might say that I must. 153

Simmias said: What a message for such a man! having is not reasonable, for surely no wise man thinks that when set been a frequent companion of his I should say that, as far as I at liberty he can take better care of himself than the gods take know him, he will never take your advice unless he is obliged. of him. A fool may perhaps think this Ð he may argue that Why, said Socrates. Is not Evenus a philosopher? he had better run away from his master, not considering that I think that he is, said Simmias. his duty is to remain to the end, and not to run away from Then he, or any man who has the spirit of philosophy, will the good, and that there is no sense in his running away. But be willing to die, though he will not take his own life, for that the wise man will want to be ever with him who is better than is held not to be right. himself. Now this, Socrates, is the reverse of what was just Here he changed his position, and put his legs off the couch now said; for upon this view the wise man should sorrow and on to the ground, and during the rest of the conversation he the fool rejoice at passing out of life. remained sitting. The earnestness of Cebes seemed to please Socrates. Here, Why do you say, inquired Cebes, that a man ought not to said he, turning to us, is a man who is always inquiring, and is take his own life, but that the philosopher will be ready to not to be convinced all in a moment, nor by every argument. follow the dying? And in this case, added Simmias, his objection does appear Socrates replied: And have you, Cebes and Simmias , who to me to have some force. For what can be the meaning of a are acquainted with Philolaus, never heard him speak of this? truly wise man wanting to fly away and lightly leave a master I never understood him, Socrates. who is better than himself? And I rather imagine that Cebes is My words, too, are only an echo; but I am very willing to referring to you; he thinks that you are too ready to leave us, say what I have heard: and indeed, as I am going to another and too ready to leave the gods who, as you acknowledge, are place, I ought to be thinking and talking of the nature of the our good rulers. pilgrimage which I am about to make. What can I do better in Yes, replied Socrates; there is reason in that. And this in- the interval between this and the setting of the sun? dictment you think that I ought to answer as if I were in court? Then tell me, Socrates, why is suicide held not to be right? That is what we should like, said Simmias. as I have certainly heard Philolaus affirm when he was staying Then I must try to make a better impression upon you than with us at Thebes; and there are others who say the same, I did when defending myself before the judges. For I am quite although none of them has ever made me understand him. ready to acknowledge, Simmias and Cebes, that I ought to be But do your best, replied Socrates, and the day may come grieved at death, if I were not persuaded that I am going to when you will understand. I suppose that you wonder why, as other gods who are wise and good (of this I am as certain as most things which are evil may be accidentally good, this is to I can be of anything of the sort) and to men departed (though be the only exception (for may not death, too, be better than I am not so certain of this) who are better than those whom life in some cases?), and why, when a man is better dead, he is I leave behind; and therefore I do not grieve as I might have not permitted to be his own benefactor, but must wait for the done, for I have good hope that there is yet something remain- hand of another. ing for the dead, and, as has been said of old, some far better By Jupiter! yes, indeed, said Cebes laughing, and speaking thing for the good than for the evil. in his native Doric. But do you mean to take away your thoughts with you, I admit the appearance of inconsistency, replied Socrates, Socrates, said Simmias? Will you not communicate them to but there may not be any real inconsistency after all in this. us? Ð the benefit is one in which we too may hope to share. There is a doctrine uttered in secret that man is a prisoner Moreover, if you succeed in convincing us, that will be an who has no right to open the door of his prison and run away; answer to the charge against yourself. this is a great mystery which I do not quite understand. Yet I I will do my best, replied Socrates. But you must first let too believe that the gods are our guardians, and that we are a me hear what Crito wants; he was going to say something to possession of theirs. Do you not agree? me. Yes, I agree to that, said Cebes. Only this, Socrates, replied Crito: the attendant who is to And if one of your own possessions, an ox or an ass, for give you the poison has been telling me that you are not to example took the liberty of putting himself out of the way talk much, and he wants me to let you know this; for that by when you had given no intimation of your wish that he should talking, heat is increased, and this interferes with the action die, would you not be angry with him, and would you not of the poison; those who excite themselves are sometimes punish him if you could? obliged to drink the poison two or three times. Certainly, replied Cebes. Then, said Socrates, let him mind his business and be pre- Then there may be reason in saying that a man should wait, pared to give the poison two or three times, if necessary; that and not take his own life until God summons him, as he is now is all. summoning me. I was almost certain that you would say that, replied Crito; Yes, Socrates, said Cebes, there is surely reason in that. but I was obliged to satisfy him. And yet how can you reconcile this seemingly true belief that Never mind him, he said. God is our guardian and we his possessions, with that will- And now I will make answer to you, O my judges, and ingness to die which we were attributing to the philosopher? show that he who has lived as a true philosopher has reason to That the wisest of men should be willing to leave this service be of good cheer when he is about to die, and that after death in which they are ruled by the gods who are the best of rulers he may hope to receive the greatest good in the other world. 154

And how this may be, Simmias and Cebes, I will endeavor any truth in them? Are they not, as the poets are always telling to explain. For I deem that the true disciple of philosophy is us, inaccurate witnesses? and yet, if even they are inaccurate likely to be misunderstood by other men; they do not perceive and indistinct, what is to be said of the other senses? Ð for you that he is ever pursuing death and dying; and if this is true, will allow that they are the best of them? why, having had the desire of death all his life long, should he Certainly, he replied. repine at the arrival of that which he has been always pursuing Then when does the soul attain truth? Ð for in attempting to and desiring? consider anything in company with the body she is obviously Simmias laughed and said: Though not in a laughing hu- deceived. mor, I swear that I cannot help laughing when I think what Yes, that is true. the wicked world will say when they hear this. They will say Then must not existence be revealed to her in thought, if at that this is very true, and our people at home will agree with all? them in saying that the life which philosophers desire is truly Yes. death, and that they have found them out to be deserving of And thought is best when the mind is gathered into her- the death which they desire. self and none of these things trouble her Ð neither sounds nor And they are right, Simmias, in saying this, with the ex- sights nor pain nor any pleasure, Ð when she has as little as ception of the words “They have found them out;” for they possible to do with the body, and has no bodily sense or feel- have not found out what is the nature of this death which the ing, but is aspiring after being? true philosopher desires, or how he deserves or desires death. That is true. But let us leave them and have a word with ourselves: Do we And in this the philosopher dishonors the body; his soul believe that there is such a thing as death? runs away from the body and desires to be alone and by her- To be sure, replied Simmias. self? And is this anything but the separation of soul and body? That is true. And being dead is the attainment of this separation when the Well, but there is another thing, Simmias: Is there or is there soul exists in herself, and is parted from the body and the body not an absolute justice? is parted from the soul Ð that is death? Assuredly there is. Exactly: that and nothing else, he replied. And an absolute beauty and absolute good? And what do you say of another question, my friend, about Of course. which I should like to have your opinion, and the answer to But did you ever behold any of them with your eyes? which will probably throw light on our present inquiry: Do Certainly not. you think that the philosopher ought to care about the plea- Or did you ever reach them with any other bodily sense? sures Ð if they are to be called pleasures Ð of eating and drink- (and I speak not of these alone, but of absolute greatness, and ing? health, and strength, and of the essence or true nature of ev- Certainly not, answered Simmias. erything). Has the reality of them ever been perceived by you And what do you say of the pleasures of love Ð should he through the bodily organs? or rather, is not the nearest ap- care about them? proach to the knowledge of their several natures made by him By no means. who so orders his intellectual vision as to have the most exact And will he think much of the other ways of indulging the conception of the essence of that which he considers? body, for example, the acquisition of costly raiment, or san- Certainly. dals, or other adornments of the body? Instead of caring about And he attains to the knowledge of them in their highest them, does he not rather despise anything more than nature purity who goes to each of them with the mind alone, not al- needs? What do you say? lowing when in the act of thought the intrusion or introduction I should say the true philosopher would despise them. of sight or any other sense in the company of reason, but with Would you not say that he is entirely concerned with the the very light of the mind in her clearness penetrates into the soul and not with the body? He would like, as far as he can, very light of truth in each; he has got rid, as far as he can, to be quit of the body and turn to the soul. of eyes and ears and of the whole body, which he conceives That is true. of only as a disturbing element, hindering the soul from the In matters of this sort philosophers, above all other men, acquisition of knowledge when in company with her Ð is not may be observed in every sort of way to dissever the soul this the sort of man who, if ever man did, is likely to attain the from the body. knowledge of existence? That is true. There is admirable truth in that, Socrates, replied Simmias. Whereas, Simmias, the rest of the world are of opinion that And when they consider all this, must not true philosophers a life which has no bodily pleasures and no part in them is make a reflection, of which they will speak to one another in not worth having; but that he who thinks nothing of bodily such words as these: We have found, they will say, a path of pleasures is almost as though he were dead. speculation which seems to bring us and the argument to the That is quite true. conclusion that while we are in the body, and while the soul What again shall we say of the actual acquirement of is mingled with this mass of evil, our desire will not be sat- knowledge? Ð is the body, if invited to share in the inquiry, isfied, and our desire is of the truth. For the body is a source a hinderer or a helper? I mean to say, have sight and hearing of endless trouble to us by reason of the mere requirement of 155 food; and also is liable to diseases which overtake and im- a state of death, and yet repining when death comes. pede us in the search after truth: and by filling us so full of Certainly. loves, and lusts, and fears, and fancies, and idols, and every Then, Simmias, as the true philosophers are ever studying sort of folly, prevents our ever having, as people say, so much death, to them, of all men, death is the least terrible. Look as a thought. For whence come wars, and fightings, and fac- at the matter in this way: how inconsistent of them to have tions? whence but from the body and the lusts of the body? been always enemies of the body, and wanting to have the soul For wars are occasioned by the love of money, and money has alone, and when this is granted to them, to be trembling and to be acquired for the sake and in the service of the body; repining; instead of rejoicing at their departing to that place and in consequence of all these things the time which ought where, when they arrive, they hope to gain that which in life to be given to philosophy is lost. Moreover, if there is time they loved (and this was wisdom), and at the same time to and an inclination toward philosophy, yet the body introduces be rid of the company of their enemy. Many a man has been a turmoil and confusion and fear into the course of specula- willing to go to the world below in the hope of seeing there an tion, and hinders us from seeing the truth; and all experience earthly love, or wife, or son, and conversing with them. And shows that if we would have pure knowledge of anything we will he who is a true lover of wisdom, and is persuaded in like must be quit of the body, and the soul in herself must behold manner that only in the world below he can worthily enjoy all things in themselves: then I suppose that we shall attain her, still repine at death? Will he not depart with joy? Surely that which we desire, and of which we say that we are lovers, he will, my friend, if he be a true philosopher. For he will and that is wisdom; not while we live, but after death, as the have a firm conviction that there only, and nowhere else, he argument shows; for if while in company with the body, the can find wisdom in her purity. And if this be true, he would soul cannot have pure knowledge, one of two things seems to be very absurd, as I was saying, if he were to fear death. follow Ð either knowledge is not to be attained at all, or, if at He would, indeed, replied Simmias. all, after death. For then, and not till then, the soul will be And when you see a man who is repining at the approach in herself alone and without the body. In this present life, I of death, is not his reluctance a sufficient proof that he is not a reckon that we make the nearest approach to knowledge when lover of wisdom, but a lover of the body, and probably at the we have the least possible concern or interest in the body, and same time a lover of either money or power, or both? are not saturated with the bodily nature, but remain pure until That is very true, he replied. the hour when God himself is pleased to release us. And then There is a virtue, Simmias, which is named courage. Is not the foolishness of the body will be cleared away and we shall that a special attribute of the philosopher? be pure and hold converse with other pure souls, and know of ourselves the clear light everywhere; and this is surely the Certainly. light of truth. For no impure thing is allowed to approach Again, there is temperance. Is not the calm, and control, the pure. These are the sort of words, Simmias, which the and disdain of the passions which even the many call temper- true lovers of wisdom cannot help saying to one another, and ance, a quality belonging only to those who despise the body thinking. You will agree with me in that? and live in philosophy? Certainly, Socrates. That is not to be denied. But if this is true, O my friend, then there is great hope that, For the courage and temperance of other men, if you will going whither I go, I shall there be satisfied with that which consider them, are really a contradiction. has been the chief concern of you and me in our past lives. How is that, Socrates? And now that the hour of departure is appointed to me, this Well, he said, you are aware that death is regarded by men is the hope with which I depart, and not I only, but every man in general as a great evil. who believes that he has his mind purified. That is true, he said. Certainly, replied Simmias. And do not courageous men endure death because they are And what is purification but the separation of the soul from afraid of yet greater evils? the body, as I was saying before; the habit of the soul gathering That is true. and collecting herself into herself, out of all the courses of the Then all but the philosophers are courageous only from body; the dwelling in her own place alone, as in another life, fear, and because they are afraid; and yet that a man should so also in this, as far as she can; the release of the soul from be courageous from fear, and because he is a coward, is surely the chains of the body? a strange thing. Very true, he said. Very true. And what is that which is termed death, but this very sepa- And are not the temperate exactly in the same case? They ration and release of the soul from the body? are temperate because they are intemperate, Ð which may To be sure, he said. seem to be a contradiction, but is nevertheless the sort of And the true philosophers, and they only, study and are ea- thing which happens with this foolish temperance. For there ger to release the soul. Is not the separation and release of the are pleasures which they must have, and are afraid of losing; soul from the body their especial study? and therefore they abstain from one class of pleasures because That is true. they are overcome by another: and whereas intemperance is And as I was saying at first, there would be a ridiculous defined as “being under the dominion of pleasure,” they over- contradiction in men studying to live as nearly as they can in come only because they are overcome by pleasure. And that 156 is what I mean by saying that they are temperate through in- 4.3. The Cycle of Opposites Argument temperance. That appears to be true. Whether the souls of men after death are or are not in the Yet the exchange of one fear or pleasure or pain for another world below is a question which may be argued in this manner. fear or pleasure or pain, which are measured like coins, the The ancient doctrine of which I have been speaking affirms greater with the less, is not the exchange of virtue. O my dear that they go from hence into the other world, and return hither, Simmias, is there not one true coin for which all things ought and are born from the dead. Now if this be true, and the living to exchange? Ð and that is wisdom; and only in exchange for come from the dead, then our souls must be in the other world, this, and in company with this, is anything truly bought or for if not, how could they be born again? And this would be sold, whether courage or temperance or justice. And is not conclusive, if there were any real evidence that the living are all true virtue the companion of wisdom, no matter what fears only born from the dead; but if there is no evidence of this, or pleasures or other similar goods or evils may or may not then other arguments will have to be adduced. attend her? But the virtue which is made up of these goods, That is very true, replied Cebes. when they are severed from wisdom and exchanged with one Then let us consider this question, not in relation to man another, is a shadow of virtue only, nor is there any freedom only, but in relation to animals generally, and to plants, and or health or truth in her; but in the true exchange there is a to everything of which there is generation, and the proof will purging away of all these things, and temperance, and jus- be easier. Are not all things which have opposites generated tice, and courage, and wisdom herself are a purgation of them. out of their opposites? I mean such things as good and evil, And I conceive that the founders of the mysteries had a real just and unjust Ð and there are innumerable other opposites meaning and were not mere triflers when they intimated in a which are generated out of opposites. And I want to show figure long ago that he who passed unsanctified and uniniti- that this holds universally of all opposites; I mean to say, for ated into the world below will live in a slough, but that he example, that anything which becomes greater must become who arrives there after initiation and purification will dwell greater after being less. with the gods. For “many,” as they say in the mysteries, “are True. the thyrsus-bearers, but few are the mystics,” Ð meaning, as And that which becomes less must have been once greater I interpret the words, the true philosophers. In the number of and then become less. whom I have been seeking, according to my ability, to find a Yes. place during my whole life; whether I have sought in a right And the weaker is generated from the stronger, and the way or not, and whether I have succeeded or not, I shall truly swifter from the slower. know in a little while, if God will, when I myself arrive in the Very true. other world: that is my belief. And now Simmias and Cebes, And the worse is from the better, and the more just is from I have answered those who charge me with not grieving or re- the more unjust. pining at parting from you and my masters in this world; and Of course. I am right in not repining, for I believe that I shall find other And is this true of all opposites? and are we convinced that masters and friends who are as good in the world below. But all of them are generated out of opposites? all men cannot receive this, and I shall be glad if my words Yes. have any more success with you than with the judges of the And in this universal opposition of all things, are there not Athenians. also two intermediate processes which are ever going on, Cebes answered: I agree, Socrates, in the greater part of from one to the other, and back again; where there is a greater what you say. But in what relates to the soul, men are apt to be and a less there is also an intermediate process of increase incredulous; they fear that when she leaves the body her place and diminution, and that which grows is said to wax, and that may be nowhere, and that on the very day of death she may which decays to wane? be destroyed and perish, Ð immediately on her release from Yes, he said. the body, issuing forth like smoke or air and vanishing away And there are many other processes, such as division and into nothingness. For if she could only hold together and be composition, cooling and heating, which equally involve a herself after she was released from the evils of the body, there passage into and out of one another. And this holds of all op- would be good reason to hope, Socrates, that what you say is posites, even though not always expressed in words Ð they are true. But much persuasion and many arguments are required generated out of one another, and there is a passing or process in order to prove that when the man is dead the soul yet exists, from one to the other of them? and has any force or intelligence. Very true, he replied. True, Cebes, said Socrates; and shall I suggest that we talk Well, and is there not an opposite of life, as sleep is the a little of the probabilities of these things? opposite of waking? I am sure, said Cebes, that I should greatly like to know True, he said. your opinion about them. And what is that? I reckon, said Socrates, that no one who heard me now, not Death, he answered. even if he were one of my old enemies, the comic poets, could And these then are generated, if they are opposites, the accuse me of idle talking about matters in which I have no one from the other, and have their two intermediate processes concern. Let us, then, if you please, proceed with the inquiry. also? 157

Of course. life were to die, and after they were dead remained in the form Now, said Socrates, I will analyze one of the two pairs of of death, and did not come to life again, all would at last die, opposites which I have mentioned to you, and also its inter- and nothing would be alive Ð how could this be otherwise? mediate processes, and you shall analyze the other to me. The For if the living spring from any others who are not the dead, state of sleep is opposed to the state of waking, and out of and they die, must not all things at last be swallowed up in sleeping waking is generated, and out of waking, sleeping; death? and the process of generation is in the one case falling asleep, There is no escape from that, Socrates, said Cebes; and I and in the other waking up. Are you agreed about that? think that what you say is entirely true. Quite agreed. Yes, he said, Cebes, I entirely think so, too; and we are not Then suppose that you analyze life and death to me in the walking in a vain imagination: but I am confident in the belief same manner. Is not death opposed to life? that there truly is such a thing as living again, and that the Yes. living spring from the dead, and that the souls of the dead are And they are generated one from the other? in existence, and that the good souls have a better portion than Yes. the evil. What is generated from life? Death. And what from death? 4.4. The Recollection Argument I can only say in answer Ð life. Then the living, whether things or persons, Cebes, are gen- Cebes added: Your favorite doctrine, Socrates, that knowl- erated from the dead? edge is simply recollection, if true, also necessarily implies That is clear, he replied. a previous time in which we learned that which we now rec- Then the inference is that our souls are in the world below? ollect. But this would be impossible unless our soul was in That is true. some place before existing in the human form; here then is And one of the two processes or generations is visible Ð for another argument of the soul’s immortality. surely the act of dying is visible? But tell me, Cebes, said Simmias, interposing, what proofs Surely, he said. are given of this doctrine of recollection? I am not very sure And may not the other be inferred as the complement of at this moment that I remember them. nature, who is not to be supposed to go on one leg only? And One excellent proof, said Cebes, is afforded by questions. if not, a corresponding process of generation in death must If you put a question to a person in a right way, he will give a also be assigned to her? true answer of himself, but how could he do this unless there Certainly, he replied. were knowledge and right reason already in him? And this And what is that process? is most clearly shown when he is taken to a diagram or to Revival. anything of that sort. And revival, if there be such a thing, is the birth of the dead But if, said Socrates, you are still incredulous, Simmias, into the world of the living? I would ask you whether you may not agree with me when Quite true. you look at the matter in another way; I mean, if you are still Then here is a new way in which we arrive at the inference incredulous as to whether knowledge is recollection. that the living come from the dead, just as the dead come from Incredulous, I am not, said Simmias; but I want to have this the living; and if this is true, then the souls of the dead must doctrine of recollection brought to my own recollection, and, be in some place out of which they come again. And this, as I from what Cebes has said, I am beginning to recollect and be think, has been satisfactorily proved. convinced: but I should still like to hear what more you have Yes, Socrates, he said; all this seems to flow necessarily out to say. of our previous admissions. And that these admissions were not unfair, Cebes, he said, This is what I would say, he replied: We should agree, if may be shown, as I think, in this way: If generation were in a I am not mistaken, that what a man recollects he must have straight line only, and there were no compensation or circle in known at some previous time. nature, no turn or return into one another, then you know that Very true. all things would at last have the same form and pass into the And what is the nature of this recollection? And, in asking same state, and there would be no more generation of them. this, I mean to ask whether, when a person has already seen What do you mean? he said. or heard or in any way perceived anything, and he knows not A simple thing enough, which I will illustrate by the case only that, but something else of which he has not the same, but of sleep, he replied. You know that if there were no com- another knowledge, we may not fairly say that he recollects pensation of sleeping and waking, the story of the sleeping that which comes into his mind. Are we agreed about that? Endymion would in the end have no meaning, because all What do you mean? other things would be asleep too, and he would not be thought I mean what I may illustrate by the following instance: The of. Or if there were composition only, and no division of sub- knowledge of a lyre is not the same as the knowledge of a stances, then the chaos of Anaxagoras would come again. And man? in like manner, my dear Cebes, if all things which partook of True. 158

And yet what is the feeling of lovers when they recognize produced by them? Are they equals in the same sense as ab- a lyre, or a garment, or anything else which the beloved has solute equality? or do they fall short of this in a measure? been in the habit of using? Do not they, from knowing the Yes, he said, in a very great measure too. lyre, form in the mind’s eye an image of the youth to whom And must we not allow that when I or anyone look at any the lyre belongs? And this is recollection: and in the same object, and perceive that the object aims at being some other way anyone who sees Simmias may remember Cebes; and thing, but falls short of, and cannot attain to it, Ð he who there are endless other things of the same nature. makes this observation must have had previous knowledge of Yes, indeed, there are Ð endless, replied Simmias. that to which, as he says, the other, although similar, was in- And this sort of thing, he said, is recollection, and is most ferior? commonly a process of recovering that which has been for- Certainly. gotten through time and inattention. And has not this been our own case in the matter of equals Very true, he said. and of absolute equality? Well; and may you not also from seeing the picture of a Precisely. horse or a lyre remember a man? and from the picture of Then we must have known absolute equality previously to Simmias, you may be led to remember Cebes? the time when we first saw the material equals, and reflected True. that all these apparent equals aim at this absolute equality, but Or you may also be led to the recollection of Simmias him- fall short of it? self? That is true. True, he said. And we recognize also that this absolute equality has only And in all these cases, the recollection may be derived from been known, and can only be known, through the medium of things either like or unlike? sight or touch, or of some other sense. And this I would affirm That is true. of all such conceptions. And when the recollection is derived from like things, then Yes, Socrates, as far as the argument is concerned, one of there is sure to be another question, which is, whether the like- them is the same as the other. ness of that which is recollected is in any way defective or not. And from the senses then is derived the knowledge that all Very true, he said. sensible things aim at an idea of equality of which they fall And shall we proceed a step further, and affirm that there is short Ð is not that true? such a thing as equality, not of wood with wood, or of stone Yes. with stone, but that, over and above this, there is equality in Then before we began to see or hear or perceive in any way, the abstract? Shall we affirm this? we must have had a knowledge of absolute equality, or we Affirm, yes, and swear to it, replied Simmias, with all the could not have referred to that the equals which are derived confidence in life. from the senses Ð for to that they all aspire, and of that they And do we know the nature of this abstract essence? fall short? To be sure, he said. That, Socrates, is certainly to be inferred from the previous And whence did we obtain this knowledge? Did we not statements. see equalities of material things, such as pieces of wood and And did we not see and hear and acquire our other senses stones, and gather from them the idea of an equality which is as soon as we were born? different from them? Ð you will admit that? Or look at the Certainly. matter again in this way: Do not the same pieces of wood or Then we must have acquired the knowledge of the ideal stone appear at one time equal, and at another time unequal? equal at some time previous to this? That is certain. Yes. But are real equals ever unequal? or is the idea of equality That is to say, before we were born, I suppose? ever inequality? True. That surely was never yet known, Socrates. And if we acquired this knowledge before we were born, Then these (so-called) equals are not the same with the idea and were born having it, then we also knew before we were of equality? born and at the instant of birth not only equal or the greater I should say, clearly not, Socrates. or the less, but all other ideas; for we are not speaking only of And yet from these equals, although differing from the idea equality absolute, but of beauty, goodness, justice, holiness, of equality, you conceived and attained that idea? and all which we stamp with the name of essence in the di- Very true, he said. alectical process, when we ask and answer questions. Of all Which might be like, or might be unlike them? this we may certainly affirm that we acquired the knowledge Yes. before birth? But that makes no difference; whenever from seeing one That is true. thing you conceived another, whether like or unlike, there But if, after having acquired, we have not forgotten that must surely have been an act of recollection? which we acquired, then we must always have been born with Very true. knowledge, and shall always continue to know as long as life But what would you say of equal portions of wood and lasts Ð for knowing is the acquiring and retaining of knowl- stone, or other material equals? and what is the impression edge and not forgetting. Is not forgetting, Simmias, just the 159 losing of knowledge? existence, then our souls must have had a prior existence, but Quite true, Socrates. if not, there would be no force in the argument? There can be But if the knowledge which we acquired before birth was no doubt that if these absolute ideas existed before we were lost by us at birth, and if afterwards by the use of the senses we born, then our souls must have existed before we were born, recovered that which we previously knew, will not that which and if not the ideas, then not the souls. we call learning be a process of recovering our knowledge, Yes, Socrates; I am convinced that there is precisely the and may not this be rightly termed recollection by us? same necessity for the existence of the soul before birth, and Very true. of the essence of which you are speaking: and the argument For this is clear, that when we perceived something, either arrives at a result which happily agrees with my own notion. by the help of sight or hearing, or some other sense, there was For there is nothing which to my mind is so evident as that no difficulty in receiving from this a conception of some other beauty, goodness, and other notions of which you were just thing like or unlike which had been forgotten and which was now speaking have a most real and absolute existence; and I associated with this; and therefore, as I was saying, one of two am satisfied with the proof. alternatives follows: either we had this knowledge at birth, Well, but is Cebes equally satisfied? for I must convince and continued to know through life; or, after birth, those who him too. are said to learn only remember, and learning is recollection I think, said Simmias, that Cebes is satisfied: although he is only. the most incredulous of mortals, yet I believe that he is con- Yes, that is quite true, Socrates. vinced of the existence of the soul before birth. But that after And which alternative, Simmias, do you prefer? Had we death the soul will continue to exist is not yet proven even to the knowledge at our birth, or did we remember afterwards my own satisfaction. I cannot get rid of the feeling of the many the things which we knew previously to our birth? to which Cebes was referring Ð the feeling that when the man I cannot decide at the moment. dies the soul may be scattered, and that this may be the end At any rate you can decide whether he who has knowledge of her. For admitting that she may be generated and created ought or ought not to be able to give a reason for what he in some other place, and may have existed before entering the knows. human body, why after having entered in and gone out again Certainly, he ought. may she not herself be destroyed and come to an end? But do you think that every man is able to give a reason Very true, Simmias, said Cebes; that our soul existed before about these very matters of which we are speaking? we were born was the first half of the argument, and this ap- I wish that they could, Socrates, but I greatly fear that to- pears to have been proven; that the soul will exist after death morrow at this time there will be no one able to give a reason as well as before birth is the other half of which the proof is worth having. still wanting, and has to be supplied. Then you are not of opinion, Simmias, that all men know But that proof, Simmias and Cebes, has been already given, these things? said Socrates, if you put the two arguments together Ð I mean Certainly not. this and the former one, in which we admitted that everything Then they are in process of recollecting that which they living is born of the dead. For if the soul existed before birth, learned before. and in coming to life and being born can be born only from Certainly. death and dying, must she not after death continue to exist, But when did our souls acquire this knowledge? Ð not since since she has to be born again? surely the proof which you we were born as men? desire has been already furnished. Certainly not. And therefore, previously? Yes. 4.5. The Affinity Argument Then, Simmias, our souls must have existed before they were in the form of man Ð without bodies, and must have had Still I suspect that you and Simmias would be glad to probe intelligence. the argument further; like children, you are haunted with a Unless indeed you suppose, Socrates, that these notions fear that when the soul leaves the body, the wind may really were given us at the moment of birth; for this is the only time blow her away and scatter her; especially if a man should that remains. happen to die in stormy weather and not when the sky is calm. Yes, my friend, but when did we lose them? for they are not Cebes answered with a smile: Then, Socrates, you must in us when we are born Ð that is admitted. Did we lose them argue us out of our fears Ð and yet, strictly speaking, they are at the moment of receiving them, or at some other time? not our fears, but there is a child within us to whom death is a No, Socrates, I perceive that I was unconsciously talking sort of hobgoblin; him too we must persuade not to be afraid nonsense. when he is alone with him in the dark. Then may we not say, Simmias, that if, as we are always Socrates said: Let the voice of the charmer be applied daily repeating, there is an absolute beauty, and goodness, and until you have charmed him away. essence in general, and to this, which is now discovered to be And where shall we find a good charmer of our fears, a previous condition of our being, we refer all our sensations, Socrates, when you are gone? and with this compare them Ð assuming this to have a prior Hellas, he replied, is a large place, Cebes, and has many 160 good men, and there are barbarous races not a few: seek for Not by man, Socrates. him among them all, far and wide, sparing neither pains nor And by “seen” and “not seen” is meant by us that which is money; for there is no better way of using your money. And or is not visible to the eye of man? you must not forget to seek for him among yourselves too; for Yes, to the eye of man. he is nowhere more likely to be found. And what do we say of the soul? is that seen or not seen? The search, replied Cebes, shall certainly be made. And Not seen. now, if you please, let us return to the point of the argument at Unseen then? which we digressed. Yes. By all means, replied Socrates; what else should I please? Then the soul is more like to the unseen, and the body to Very good, he said. the seen? Must we not, said Socrates, ask ourselves some question of That is most certain, Socrates. this sort? Ð What is that which, as we imagine, is liable to be And were we not saying long ago that the soul when using scattered away, and about which we fear? and what again is the body as an instrument of perception, that is to say, when that about which we have no fear? And then we may proceed using the sense of sight or hearing or some other sense (for the to inquire whether that which suffers dispersion is or is not of meaning of perceiving through the body is perceiving through the nature of soul Ð our hopes and fears as to our own souls the senses), Ð were we not saying that the soul too is then will turn upon that. dragged by the body into the region of the changeable, and That is true, he said. wanders and is confused; the world spins round her, and she Now the compound or composite may be supposed to be is like a drunkard when under their influence? naturally capable of being dissolved in like manner as of being Very true. compounded; but that which is uncompounded, and that only, But when returning into herself she reflects; then she passes must be, if anything is, indissoluble. into the realm of purity, and eternity, and immortality, and Yes; that is what I should imagine, said Cebes. unchangeableness, which are her kindred, and with them she And the uncompounded may be assumed to be the same ever lives, when she is by herself and is not let or hindered; and unchanging, whereas the compound is always changing then she ceases from her erring ways, and being in commu- and never the same? nion with the unchanging is unchanging. And this state of the That I also think, he said. soul is called wisdom? Then now let us return to the previous discussion. Is that That is well and truly said, Socrates, he replied. idea or essence, which in the dialectical process we define And to which class is the soul more nearly alike and akin, as essence or true existence Ð whether essence of equality, as far as may be inferred from this argument, as well as from beauty, or anything else: are these essences, I say, liable at the preceding one? times to some degree of change? or are they each of them I think, Socrates, that, in the opinion of everyone who fol- always what they are, having the same simple self-existent lows the argument, the soul will be infinitely more like the and unchanging forms, and not admitting of variation at all, unchangeable, Ð even the most stupid person will not deny or in any way, or at any time? that. They must be always the same, Socrates, replied Cebes. And the body is more like the changing? And what would you say of the many beautiful, Ð whether Yes. men or horses or garments or any other things which may be Yet once more consider the matter in this light: When the called equal or beautiful Ð are they all unchanging and the soul and the body are united, then nature orders the soul to same always, or quite the reverse? May they not rather be de- rule and govern, and the body to obey and serve. Now which scribed as almost always changing and hardly ever the same, of these two functions is akin to the divine? and which to the either with themselves or with one another? mortal? Does not the divine appear to you to be that which And these you can touch and see and perceive with the naturally orders and rules, and the mortal that which is subject senses, but the unchanging things you can only perceive with and servant? the mind Ð they are invisible and are not seen? True. That is very true, he said. And which does the soul resemble? Well, then, he added, let us suppose that there are two sorts The soul resembles the divine and the body the mortal, Ð of existences, one seen, the other unseen. there can be no doubt of that, Socrates. Let us suppose them. Then reflect, Cebes: is not the conclusion of the whole mat- The seen is the changing, and the unseen is the unchanging? ter this, Ð that the soul is in the very likeness of the divine, That may be also supposed. and immortal, and intelligible, and uniform, and indissoluble, And, further, is not one part of us body, and the rest of us and unchangeable; and the body is in the very likeness of the soul? human, and mortal, and unintelligible, and multiform, and dis- To be sure. soluble, and changeable. Can this, my dear Cebes, be denied? And to which class may we say that the body is more alike No, indeed. and akin? But if this is true, then is not the body liable to speedy dis- Clearly to the seen: no one can doubt that. solution? and is not the soul almost or altogether indissoluble? And is the soul seen or not seen? Certainly. 161

4.6. The Doctrines Concerning Body and Soul souls which have not departed pure, but are cloyed with sight and therefore visible. And do you further observe, that after a man is dead, the That is very likely, Socrates. body, which is the visible part of man, and has a visible frame- Yes, that is very likely, Cebes; and these must be the souls, work, which is called a corpse, and which would naturally be not of the good, but of the evil, who are compelled to wander dissolved and decomposed and dissipated, is not dissolved or about such places in payment of the penalty of their former decomposed at once, but may remain for a good while, if the evil way of life; and they continue to wander until the desire constitution be sound at the time of death, and the season of which haunts them is satisfied and they are imprisoned in an- the year favorable? For the body when shrunk and embalmed, other body. And they may be supposed to be fixed in the same as is the custom in Egypt, may remain almost entire through natures which they had in their former life. infinite ages; and even in decay, still there are some portions, What natures do you mean, Socrates? such as the bones and ligaments, which are practically inde- I mean to say that men who have followed after gluttony, structible. You allow that? and wantonness, and drunkenness, and have had no thought Yes. of avoiding them, would pass into asses and animals of that And are we to suppose that the soul, which is invisible, in sort. What do you think? passing to the true Hades, which like her is invisible, and pure, I think that exceedingly probable. and noble, and on her way to the good and wise God, whither, And those who have chosen the portion of injustice, and if God will, my soul is also soon to go, Ð that the soul, I repeat, tyranny, and violence, will pass into wolves, or hawks and if this be her nature and origin, is blown away and perishes kites; whither else can we suppose them to go? immediately on quitting the body, as the many say? That can Yes, said Cebes; that is doubtless the place of natures such never be, my dear Simmias and Cebes. The truth rather is that as theirs. the soul which is pure at departing draws after her no bodily And there is no difficulty, he said, in assigning to all of them taint, having never voluntarily had connection with the body, places answering to their several natures and propensities? which she is ever avoiding, herself gathered into herself (for There is not, he said. such abstraction has been the study of her life). And what does Even among them some are happier than others; and the this mean but that she has been a true disciple of philosophy happiest both in themselves and their place of abode are those and has practiced how to die easily? And is not philosophy who have practiced the civil and social virtues which are the practice of death? called temperance and justice, and are acquired by habit and Certainly. attention without philosophy and mind. That soul, I say, herself invisible, departs to the invisible Why are they the happiest? world, Ð to the divine and immortal and rational: thither arriv- Because they may be expected to pass into some gentle so- ing, she lives in bliss and is released from the error and folly cial nature which is like their own, such as that of bees or of men, their fears and wild passions and all other human ills, ants, or even back again into the form of man, and just and and forever dwells, as they say of the initiated, in company moderate men spring from them. with the gods. Is not this true, Cebes? That is not impossible. Yes, said Cebes, beyond a doubt. But he who is a philosopher or lover of learning, and is en- But the soul which has been polluted, and is impure at the tirely pure at departing, is alone permitted to reach the gods. time of her departure, and is the companion and servant of the And this is the reason, Simmias and Cebes, why the true body always, and is in love with and fascinated by the body votaries of philosophy abstain from all fleshly lusts, and en- and by the desires and pleasures of the body, until she is led dure and refuse to give themselves up to them, Ð not because to believe that the truth only exists in a bodily form, which they fear poverty or the ruin of their families, like the lovers of a man may touch and see and taste and use for the purposes money, and the world in general; nor like the lovers of power of his lusts, Ð the soul, I mean, accustomed to hate and fear and honor, because they dread the dishonor or disgrace of evil and avoid the intellectual principle, which to the bodily eye deeds. is dark and invisible, and can be attained only by philosophy; No, Socrates, that would not become them, said Cebes. do you suppose that such a soul as this will depart pure and No indeed, he replied; and therefore they who have a care unalloyed? of their souls, and do not merely live in the fashions of the That is impossible, he replied. body, say farewell to all this; they will not walk in the ways of She is engrossed by the corporeal, which the continual as- the blind: and when philosophy offers them purification and sociation and constant care of the body have made natural to release from evil, they feel that they ought not to resist her her. influence, and to her they incline, and whither she leads they Very true. follow her. And this, my friend, may be conceived to be that heavy, What do you mean, Socrates? weighty, earthy element of sight by which such a soul is de- I will tell you, he said. The lovers of knowledge are con- pressed and dragged down again into the visible world, be- scious that their souls, when philosophy receives them, are cause she is afraid of the invisible and of the world below Ð simply fastened and glued to their bodies: the soul is only prowling about tombs and sepulchres, in the neighborhood of able to view existence through the bars of a prison, and not in which, as they tell us, are seen certain ghostly apparitions of her own nature; she is wallowing in the mire of all ignorance; 162 and philosophy, seeing the terrible nature of her confinement, departure from the body be scattered and blown away by the and that the captive through desire is led to conspire in her winds and be nowhere and nothing. own captivity (for the lovers of knowledge are aware that this was the original state of the soul, and that when she was in this state philosophy received and gently counseled her, and 4.7. Simmias’ Objection – The Harmony and Lyre wanted to release her, pointing out to her that the eye is full of deceit, and also the ear and the other senses, and persuading When Socrates had done speaking, for a considerable time her to retire from them in all but the necessary use of them and there was silence; he himself and most of us appeared to be to be gathered up and collected into herself, and to trust only meditating on what had been said; only Cebes and Simmias to herself and her own intuitions of absolute existence, and spoke a few words to one another. And Socrates observing this mistrust that which comes to her through others and is subject asked them what they thought of the argument, and whether to vicissitude) Ð philosophy shows her that this is visible and there was anything wanting? For, said he, much is still open to tangible, but that what she sees in her own nature is intellec- suspicion and attack, if anyone were disposed to sift the mat- tual and invisible. And the soul of the true philosopher thinks ter thoroughly. If you are talking of something else I would that she ought not to resist this deliverance, and therefore ab- rather not interrupt you, but if you are still doubtful about the stains from pleasures and desires and pains and fears, as far argument do not hesitate to say exactly what you think, and as she is able; reflecting that when a man has great joys or let us have anything better which you can suggest; and if I am sorrows or fears or desires, he suffers from them, not the sort likely to be of any use, allow me to help you. of evil which might be anticipated Ð as for example, the loss Simmias said: I must confess, Socrates, that doubts did of his health or property which he has sacrificed to his lusts arise in our minds, and each of us was urging and inciting the Ð but he has suffered an evil greater far, which is the greatest other to put the question which we wanted to have answered and worst of all evils, and one of which he never thinks. and which neither of us liked to ask, fearing that our importu- And what is that, Socrates? said Cebes. nity might be troublesome under present circumstances. Why this: When the feeling of pleasure or pain in the soul Socrates smiled and said: O Simmias, how strange that is most intense, all of us naturally suppose that the object of is; I am not very likely to persuade other men that I do not this intense feeling is then plainest and truest: but this is not regard my present situation as a misfortune, if I am unable to the case. persuade you, and you will keep fancying that I am at all more Very true. troubled now than at any other time. Will you not allow that And this is the state in which the soul is most inthralled by I have as much of the spirit of prophecy in me as the swans? the body. For they, when they perceive that they must die, having sung How is that? all their life long, do then sing more than ever, rejoicing in the Why, because each pleasure and pain is a sort of nail which thought that they are about to go away to the god whose min- nails and rivets the soul to the body, and engrosses her and isters they are. But men, because they are themselves afraid of makes her believe that to be true which the body affirms to be death, slanderously affirm of the swans that they sing a lament true; and from agreeing with the body and having the same at the last, not considering that no bird sings when cold, or delights she is obliged to have the same habits and ways, and hungry, or in pain, not even the nightingale, nor the swallow, is not likely ever to be pure at her departure to the world below, nor yet the hoopoe; which are said indeed to tune a lay of sor- but is always saturated with the body; so that she soon sinks row, although I do not believe this to be true of them any more into another body and there germinates and grows, and has than of the swans. But because they are sacred to Apollo therefore no part in the communion of the divine and pure and and have the gift of prophecy and anticipate the good things simple. of another world, therefore they sing and rejoice in that day That is most true, Socrates, answered Cebes. more than they ever did before. And I too, believing myself And this, Cebes, is the reason why the true lovers of knowl- to be the consecrated servant of the same God, and the fellow edge are temperate and brave; and not for the reason which servant of the swans and thinking that I have received from the world gives. my master gifts of prophecy which are not inferior to theirs, Certainly not. would not go out of life less merrily than the swans. Cease to Certainly not! For not in that way does the soul of a philoso- mind then about this, but speak and ask anything which you pher reason; she will not ask philosophy to release her in or- like, while the eleven magistrates of Athens allow. der that when released she may deliver herself up again to Well, Socrates, said Simmias, then I will tell you my dif- the thralldom of pleasures and pains, doing a work only to be ficulty, and Cebes will tell you his. For I dare say that you, undone again, weaving instead of unweaving her Penelope’s Socrates, feel as I do, how very hard or almost impossible is web. But she will make herself a calm of passion and fol- the attainment of any certainty about questions such as these low Reason, and dwell in her, beholding the true and divine in the present life. And yet I should deem him a coward who (which is not matter of opinion), and thence derive nourish- did not prove what is said about them to the uttermost, or ment. Thus she seeks to live while she lives, and after death whose heart failed him before he had examined them on ev- she hopes to go to her own kindred and to be freed from hu- ery side. For he should persevere until he has attained one of man ills. Never fear, Simmias and Cebes, that a soul which two things: either he should discover or learn the truth about has been thus nurtured and has had these pursuits, will at her them; or, if this is impossible, I would have him take the best 163 and most irrefragable of human notions, and let this be the raft existence of the soul before entering into the bodily form has upon which he sails through life Ð not without risk, as I admit, been very ingeniously, and, as I may be allowed to say, quite if he cannot find some word of God which will more surely sufficiently proven; but the existence of the soul after death and safely carry him. And now, as you bid me, I will venture is still, in my judgment, unproven. Now my objection is not to question you, as I should not like to reproach myself here- the same as that of Simmias; for I am not disposed to deny after with not having said at the time what I think. For when that the soul is stronger and more lasting than the body, being I consider the matter either alone or with Cebes, the argument of opinion that in all such respects the soul very far excels does certainly appear to me, Socrates, to be not sufficient. the body. Well then, says the argument to me, why do you Socrates answered: I dare say, my friend, that you may be remain unconvinced? When you see that the weaker is still right, but I should like to know in what respect the argument in existence after the man is dead, will you not admit that the is not sufficient. more lasting must also survive during the same period of time? In this respect, replied Simmias: Might not a person use Now I, like Simmias, must employ a figure; and I shall ask the same argument about harmony and the lyre Ð might he not you to consider whether the figure is to the point. The parallel say that harmony is a thing invisible, incorporeal, fair, di- which I will suppose is that of an old weaver, who dies, and vine, abiding in the lyre which is harmonized, but that the lyre after his death somebody says: He is not dead, he must be and the strings are matter and material, composite, earthy, and alive: and he appeals to the coat which he himself wove and akin to mortality? And when someone breaks the lyre, or cuts wore, and which is still whole and undecayed. And then he and rends the strings, then he who takes this view would argue proceeds to ask of someone who is incredulous, whether a as you do, and on the same analogy, that the harmony survives man lasts longer, or the coat which is in use and wear; and and has not perished; for you cannot imagine, as he would say, when he is answered that a man lasts far longer, thinks that that the lyre without the strings, and the broken strings them- he has thus certainly demonstrated the survival of the man, selves remain, and yet that the harmony, which is of heavenly who is the more lasting, because the less lasting remains. But and immortal nature and kindred, has perished Ð and perished that, Simmias, as I would beg you to observe, is not the truth; too before the mortal. That harmony, he would say, certainly everyone sees that he who talks thus is talking nonsense. For exists somewhere, and the wood and strings will decay be- the truth is that this weaver, having worn and woven many fore that decays. For I suspect, Socrates, that the notion of such coats, though he outlived several of them, was himself the soul which we are all of us inclined to entertain, would outlived by the last; but this is surely very far from proving also be yours, and that you too would conceive the body to be that a man is slighter and weaker than a coat. Now the relation strung up, and held together, by the elements of hot and cold, of the body to the soul may be expressed in a similar figure; wet and dry, and the like, and that the soul is the harmony or for you may say with reason that the soul is lasting, and the due proportionate admixture of them. And, if this is true, the body weak and shortlived in comparison. And every soul may inference clearly is that when the strings of the body are un- be said to wear out many bodies, especially in the course of a duly loosened or overstrained through disorder or other injury, long life. For if while the man is alive the body deliquesces then the soul, though most divine, like other harmonies of mu- and decays, and yet the soul always weaves her garment anew sic or of the works of art, of course perishes at once, although and repairs the waste, then of course, when the soul perishes, the material remains of the body may last for a considerable she must have on her last garment, and this only will survive time, until they are either decayed or burnt. Now if anyone her; but then again when the soul is dead, the body will at maintained that the soul, being the harmony of the elements last show its native weakness, and soon pass into decay. And of the body, first perishes in that which is called death, how therefore this is an argument on which I would rather not rely shall we answer him? as proving that the soul exists after death. For suppose that we grant even more than you affirm as within the range of possibility, and besides acknowledging that the soul existed before birth, admit also that after death the souls of some are 4.8. Cebes’ Objection – The Man and Cloak existing still, and will exist, and will be born and die again and again, and that there is a natural strength in the soul which Socrates looked round at us as his manner was, and said will hold out and be born many times Ð for all this, we may with a smile: Simmias has reason on his side; and why does be still inclined to think that she will weary in the labors of not some one of you who is abler than myself answer him? successive births, and may at last succumb in one of her deaths for there is force in his attack upon me. But perhaps, before and utterly perish; and this death and dissolution of the body we answer him, we had better also hear what Cebes has to say which brings destruction to the soul may be unknown to any against the argument Ð this will give us time for reflection, of us, for no one of us can have had any experience of it: and if and when both of them have spoken, we may either assent to this be true, then I say that he who is confident in death has but them, if their words appear to be in consonance with the truth, a foolish confidence, unless he is able to prove that the soul is or if not, we may take up the other side, and argue with them. altogether immortal and imperishable. But if he is not able to Please do tell me then, Cebes, he said, what was the difficulty prove this, he who is about to die will always have reason to which troubled you? fear that when the body is disunited, the soul also may utterly Cebes said: I will tell you. My feeling is that the argument perish. is still in the same position, and open to the same objections which were urged before; for I am ready to admit that the All of us, as we afterwards remarked to one another, had 164 an unpleasant feeling at hearing them say this. When we had The danger of becoming misologists, he replied, which is been so firmly convinced before, now to have our faith shaken one of the very worst things that can happen to us. For as there seemed to introduce a confusion and uncertainty, not only into are misanthropists or haters of men, there are also misologists the previous argument, but into any future one; either we were or haters of ideas, and both spring from the same cause, which not good judges, or there were no real grounds of belief. is ignorance of the world. Misanthropy arises from the too great confidence of inexperience; you trust a man and think him altogether true and good and faithful, and then in a lit- 4.9. Interlude. The Warning Against Misology tle while he turns out to be false and knavish; and then an- other and another, and when this has happened several times to a man, especially within the circle of his own most trusted ECHECRATES. There I feel with you Ð indeed I do, Phaedo, friends, as he deems them, and he has often quarreled with and when you were speaking, I was beginning to ask myself them, he at last hates all men, and believes that no one has any the same question: What argument can I ever trust again? For good in him at all. I dare say that you must have observed this. what could be more convincing than the argument of Socrates, which has now fallen into discredit? That the soul is a har- Yes, I said. mony is a doctrine which has always had a wonderful attrac- And is not this discreditable? The reason is that a man, tion for me, and, when mentioned, came back to me at once, having to deal with other men, has no knowledge of them; for as my own original conviction. And now I must begin again if he had knowledge he would have known the true state of the and find another argument which will assure me that when the case, that few are the good and few the evil, and that the great man is dead the soul dies not with him. Tell me, I beg, how majority are in the interval between them. did Socrates proceed? Did he appear to share the unpleasant How do you mean? I said. feeling which you mention? or did he receive the interruption I mean, he replied, as you might say of the very large and calmly and give a sufficient answer? Tell us, as exactly as you very small, that nothing is more uncommon than a very large can, what passed. or very small man; and this applies generally to all extremes, whether of great and small, or swift and slow, or fair and foul, PHAEDO. Often, Echecrates, as I have admired Socrates, I never admired him more than at that moment. That he should or black and white: and whether the instances you select be be able to answer was nothing, but what astonished me was, men or dogs or anything else, few are the extremes, but many first, the gentle and pleasant and approving manner in which are in the mean between them. Did you never observe this? he regarded the words of the young men, and then his quick Yes, I said, I have. sense of the wound which had been inflicted by the argument, And do you not imagine, he said, that if there were a com- and his ready application of the healing art. He might be com- petition of evil, the first in evil would be found to be very few? pared to a general rallying his defeated and broken army, urg- Yes, that is very likely, I said. ing them to follow him and return to the field of argument. Yes, that is very likely, he replied; not that in this respect ECHECRATES. How was that? arguments are like men Ð there I was led on by you to say PHAEDO. You shall hear, for I was close to him on his right more than I had intended; but the point of comparison was that hand, seated on a sort of stool, and he on a couch which was a when a simple man who has no skill in dialectics believes an good deal higher. Now he had a way of playing with my hair, argument to be true which he afterwards imagines to be false, and then he smoothed my head, and pressed the hair upon my whether really false or not, and then another and another, he neck, and said: Tomorrow, Phaedo, I suppose that these fair has no longer any faith left, and great disputers, as you know, locks of yours will be severed. come to think at last that they have grown to be the wisest of mankind; for they alone perceive the utter unsoundness and Yes, Socrates, I suppose that they will, I replied. instability of all arguments, or indeed, of all things, which, Not so, if you will take my advice. like the currents in the Euripus, are going up and down in What shall I do with them? I said. never-ceasing ebb and flow. Today, he replied, and not tomorrow, if this argument dies That is quite true, I said. and cannot be brought to life again by us, you and I will both Yes, Phaedo, he replied, and very melancholy too, if there shave our locks: and if I were you, and could not maintain be such a thing as truth or certainty or power of knowing at all, my ground against Simmias and Cebes, I would myself take that a man should have lighted upon some argument or other an oath, like the Argives, not to wear hair any more until I had which at first seemed true and then turned out to be false, and renewed the conflict and defeated them. instead of blaming himself and his own want of wit, because Yes, I said, but Heracles himself is said not to be a match he is annoyed, should at last be too glad to transfer the blame for two. from himself to arguments in general; and forever afterwards Summon me then, he said, and I will be your Iolaus until should hate and revile them, and lose the truth and knowledge the sun goes down. of existence. I summon you rather, I said, not as Heracles summoning Yes, indeed, I said; that is very melancholy. Iolaus, but as Iolaus might summon Heracles. Let us then, in the first place, he said, be careful of admit- That will be all the same, he said. But first let us take care ting into our souls the notion that there is no truth or health that we avoid a danger. or soundness in any arguments at all; but let us rather say that And what is that? I said. there is as yet no health in us, and that we must quit ourselves 165 like men and do our best to gain health, Ð you and all other No, Socrates, that is impossible. men with a view to the whole of your future life, and I myself But do you not see that you are saying this when you say with a view to death. For at this moment I am sensible that I that the soul existed before she took the form and body of have not the temper of a philosopher; like the vulgar, I am only man, and was made up of elements which as yet had no ex- a partisan. For the partisan, when he is engaged in a dispute, istence? For harmony is not a sort of thing like the soul, as cares nothing about the rights of the question, but is anxious you suppose; but first the lyre, and the strings, and the sounds only to convince his hearers of his own assertions. And the exist in a state of discord, and then harmony is made last of difference between him and me at the present moment is only all, and perishes first. And how can such a notion of the soul this, Ð that whereas he seeks to convince his hearers that what as this agree with the other? he says is true, I am rather seeking to convince myself; to Not at all, replied Simmias. convince my hearers is a secondary matter with me. And do And yet, he said, there surely ought to be harmony when but see how much I gain by this. For if what I say is true, then harmony is the theme of discourse. I do well to be persuaded of the truth, but if there be noth- There ought, replied Simmias. ing after death, still, during the short time that remains, I shall But there is no harmony, he said, in the two propositions save my friends from lamentations, and my ignorance will not that knowledge is recollection, and that the soul is a harmony. last, and therefore no harm will be done. This is the state of Which of them then will you retain? mind, Simmias and Cebes, in which I approach the argument. I think, he replied, that I have a much stronger faith, And I would ask you to be thinking of the truth and not of Socrates, in the first of the two, which has been fully demon- Socrates: agree with me, if I seem to you to be speaking the strated to me, than in the latter, which has not been demon- truth; or if not, withstand me might and main, that I may not strated at all, but rests only on probable and plausible grounds; deceive you as well as myself in my enthusiasm, and like the and I know too well that these arguments from probabilities bee, leave my sting in you before I die. are impostors, and unless great caution is observed in the use of them they are apt to be deceptive Ð in geometry, and in other things too. But the doctrine of knowledge and recollection has 4.10. Socrates’ Reply to Simmias been proven to me on trustworthy grounds; and the proof was that the soul must have existed before she came into the body, And now let us proceed, he said. And first of all let me be because to her belongs the essence of which the very name sure that I have in my mind what you were saying. Simmias, implies existence. Having, as I am convinced, rightly ac- if I remember rightly, has fears and misgivings whether the cepted this conclusion, and on sufficient grounds, I must, as I soul, being in the form of harmony, although a fairer and di- suppose, cease to argue or allow others to argue that the soul viner thing than the body, may not perish first. On the other is a harmony. hand, Cebes appeared to grant that the soul was more lasting Let me put the matter, Simmias, he said, in another point than the body, but he said that no one could know whether of view: Do you imagine that a harmony or any other compo- the soul, after having worn out many bodies, might not per- sition can be in a state other than that of the elements out of ish herself and leave her last body behind her; and that this is which it is compounded? death, which is the destruction not of the body but of the soul, Certainly not. for in the body the work of destruction is ever going on. Are Or do or suffer anything other than they do or suffer? not these, Simmias and Cebes, the points which we have to He agreed. consider? Then a harmony does not lead the parts or elements which They both agreed to this statement of them. make up the harmony, but only follows them. He proceeded: And did you deny the force of the whole He assented. preceding argument, or of a part only? For harmony cannot possibly have any motion, or sound, or Of a part only, they replied. other quality which is opposed to the parts. And what did you think, he said, of that part of the argument That would be impossible, he replied. in which we said that knowledge was recollection only, and And does not every harmony depend upon the manner in inferred from this that the soul must have previously existed which the elements are harmonized? somewhere else before she was inclosed in the body? I do not understand you, he said. Cebes said that he had been wonderfully impressed by that I mean to say that a harmony admits of degrees, and is more part of the argument, and that his conviction remained un- of a harmony, and more completely a harmony, when more shaken. Simmias agreed, and added that he himself could completely harmonized, if that be possible; and less of a har- hardly imagine the possibility of his ever thinking differently mony, and less completely a harmony, when less harmonized. about that. True. But, rejoined Socrates, you will have to think differently, But does the soul admit of degrees? or is one soul in the my Theban friend, if you still maintain that harmony is a com- very least degree more or less, or more or less completely, a pound, and that the soul is a harmony which is made out of soul than another? strings set in the frame of the body; for you will surely never Not in the least. allow yourself to say that a harmony is prior to the elements Yet surely one soul is said to have intelligence and virtue, which compose the harmony. and to be good, and another soul is said to have folly and vice, 166 and to be an evil soul: and this is said truly? sions and relaxations and vibrations and other affections of Yes, truly. the strings out of which she is composed; she can only follow, But what will those who maintain the soul to be a harmony she cannot lead them? say of this presence of virtue and vice in the soul? Ð will they Yes, he said, we acknowledged that, certainly. say that here is another harmony, and another discord, and that And yet do we not now discover the soul to be doing the the virtuous soul is harmonized, and herself being harmony exact opposite Ð leading the elements of which she is believed has another harmony within her, and that the vicious soul is to be composed; almost always opposing and coercing them inharmonical and has no harmony within her? in all sorts of ways throughout life, sometimes more violently I cannot say, replied Simmias; but I suppose that something with the pains of medicine and gymnastic; then again more of that kind would be asserted by those who take this view. gently; threatening and also reprimanding the desires, pas- And the admission is already made that no soul is more a sions, fears, as if talking to a thing which is not herself, as soul than another; and this is equivalent to admitting that har- Homer in the “Odyssey” represents Odysseus doing in the mony is not more or less harmony, or more or less completely words, Ð “He beat his breast, and thus reproached his heart: a harmony? Endure, my heart; far worse hast thou endured!” Quite true. Do you think that Homer could have written this under the And that which is not more or less a harmony is not more idea that the soul is a harmony capable of being led by the or less harmonized? affections of the body, and not rather of a nature which leads True. and masters them; and herself a far diviner thing than any har- And that which is not more or less harmonized cannot have mony? more or less of harmony, but only an equal harmony? Yes, Socrates, I quite agree to that. Yes, an equal harmony. Then, my friend, we can never be right in saying that the Then one soul not being more or less absolutely a soul than soul is a harmony, for that would clearly contradict the divine another, is not more or less harmonized? Homer as well as ourselves. Exactly. True, he said. And therefore has neither more nor less of harmony or of discord? She has not. 4.11. Socrates’ Reply to Cebes: The Causes of And having neither more nor less of harmony or of discord, Generation and Destruction one soul has no more vice or virtue than another, if vice be discord and virtue harmony? Thus much, said Socrates, of Harmonia, your Theban god- Not at all more. dess, Cebes, who has not been ungracious to us, I think; but Or speaking more correctly, Simmias, the soul, if she is a what shall I say to the Theban Cadmus, and how shall I propi- harmony, will never have any vice; because a harmony, being tiate him? absolutely a harmony, has no part in the inharmonical? I think that you will discover a way of propitiating him, No. said Cebes; I am sure that you have answered the argument And therefore a soul which is absolutely a soul has no vice? about harmony in a manner that I could never have expected. How can she have, consistently with the preceding argu- For when Simmias mentioned his objection, I quite imagined ment? that no answer could be given to him, and therefore I was Then, according to this, if the souls of all animals are surprised at finding that his argument could not sustain the equally and absolutely souls, they will be equally good? first onset of yours; and not impossibly the other, whom you I agree with you, Socrates, he said. call Cadmus, may share a similar fate. And can all this be true, think you? he said; and are all Nay, my good friend, said Socrates, let us not boast, lest these consequences admissible Ð which nevertheless seem to some evil eye should put to flight the word which I am about follow from the assumption that the soul is a harmony? to speak. That, however, may be left in the hands of those Certainly not, he said. above, while I draw near in Homeric fashion, and try the met- Once more, he said, what ruling principle is there of human tle of your words. Briefly, the sum of your objection is as things other than the soul, and especially the wise soul? Do follows: You want to have proven to you that the soul is imper- you know of any? ishable and immortal, and you think that the philosopher who Indeed, I do not. is confident in death has but a vain and foolish confidence, if And is the soul in agreement with the affections of the he thinks that he will fare better than one who has led another body? or is she at variance with them? For example, when sort of life, in the world below, unless he can prove this; and the body is hot and thirsty, does not the soul incline us against you say that the demonstration of the strength and divinity of drinking? and when the body is hungry, against eating? And the soul, and of her existence prior to our becoming men, does this is only one instance out of ten thousand of the opposition not necessarily imply her immortality. Granting that the soul of the soul to the things of the body. is long-lived, and has known and done much in a former state, Very true. still she is not on that account immortal; and her entrance But we have already acknowledged that the soul, being into the human form may be a sort of disease which is the be- a harmony, can never utter a note at variance with the ten- ginning of dissolution, and may at last, after the toils of life 167 are over, end in that which is called death. And whether the which the addition is made becomes two, or that the two units soul enters into the body once only or many times, that, as you added together make two by reason of the addition. For I can- would say, makes no difference in the fears of individuals. For not understand how, when separated from the other, each of any man, who is not devoid of natural feeling, has reason to them was one and not two, and now, when they are brought fear, if he has no knowledge or proof of the soul’s immortality. together, the mere juxtaposition of them can be the cause of That is what I suppose you to say, Cebes, which I designedly their becoming two: nor can I understand how the division of repeat, in order that nothing may escape us, and that you may, one is the way to make two; for then a different cause would if you wish, add or subtract anything. produce the same effect, Ð as in the former instance the ad- But, said Cebes, as far as I can see at present, I have nothing dition and juxtaposition of one to one was the cause of two, to add or subtract; you have expressed my meaning. in this the separation and subtraction of one from the other Socrates paused awhile, and seemed to be absorbed in re- would be the cause. Nor am I any longer satisfied that I under- flection. At length he said: This is a very serious inquiry stand the reason why one or anything else either is generated which you are raising, Cebes, involving the whole question or destroyed or is at all, but I have in my mind some confused of generation and corruption, about which I will, if you like, notion of another method, and can never admit this. give you my own experience; and you can apply this, if you Then I heard someone who had a book of Anaxagoras, as think that anything which I say will avail towards the solution he said, out of which he read that mind was the disposer and of your difficulty. cause of all, and I was quite delighted at the notion of this, I should very much like, said Cebes, to hear what you have which appeared admirable, and I said to myself: If mind is to say. the disposer, mind will dispose all for the best, and put each Then I will tell you, said Socrates. When I was young, particular in the best place; and I argued that if anyone de- Cebes, I had a prodigious desire to know that department of sired to find out the cause of the generation or destruction or philosophy which is called Natural Science; this appeared to existence of anything, he must find out what state of being me to have lofty aims, as being the science which has to do or suffering or doing was best for that thing, and therefore a with the causes of things, and which teaches why a thing is, man had only to consider the best for himself and others, and and is created and destroyed; and I was always agitating my- then he would also know the worse, for that the same science self with the consideration of such questions as these: Is the comprised both. And I rejoiced to think that I had found in growth of animals the result of some decay which the hot and Anaxagoras a teacher of the causes of existence such as I de- cold principle contracts, as some have said? Is the blood the sired, and I imagined that he would tell me first whether the element with which we think, or the air, or the fire? or per- earth is flat or round; and then he would further explain the haps nothing of this sort Ð but the brain may be the originat- cause and the necessity of this, and would teach me the na- ing power of the perceptions of hearing and sight and smell, ture of the best and show that this was best; and if he said and memory and opinion may come from them, and science that the earth was in the centre, he would explain that this may be based on memory and opinion when no longer in mo- position was the best, and I should be satisfied if this were tion, but at rest. And then I went on to examine the decay of shown to me, and not want any other sort of cause. And I them, and then to the things of heaven and earth, and at last thought that I would then go on and ask him about the sun and I concluded that I was wholly incapable of these inquiries, moon and stars, and that he would explain to me their com- as I will satisfactorily prove to you. For I was fascinated by parative swiftness, and their returnings and various states, and them to such a degree that my eyes grew blind to things that I how their several affections, active and passive, were all for had seemed to myself, and also to others, to know quite well; the best. For I could not imagine that when he spoke of mind and I forgot what I had before thought to be self-evident, that as the disposer of them, he would give any other account of the growth of man is the result of eating and drinking; for their being as they are, except that this was best; and I thought when by the digestion of food flesh is added to flesh and bone that when he had explained to me in detail the cause of each to bone, and whenever there is an aggregation of congenial and the cause of all, he would go on to explain to me what was elements, the lesser bulk becomes larger and the small man best for each and what was best for all. I had hopes which I greater. Was not that a reasonable notion? would not have sold for much, and I seized the books and read Yes, said Cebes, I think so. them as fast as I could in my eagerness to know the better and Well; but let me tell you something more. There was a the worse. time when I thought that I understood the meaning of greater What hopes I had formed, and how grievously was I disap- and less pretty well; and when I saw a great man standing by pointed! As I proceeded, I found my philosopher altogether a little one, I fancied that one was taller than the other by a forsaking mind or any other principle of order, but having head, or one horse would appear to be greater than another recourse to air, and ether, and water, and other eccentricities. horse: and still more clearly did I seem to perceive that ten is I might compare him to a person who began by maintaining two more than eight, and that two cubits are more than one, generally that mind is the cause of the actions of Socrates, but because two is twice one. who, when he endeavored to explain the causes of my several And what is now your notion of such matters? said Cebes. actions in detail, went on to show that I sit here because my I should be far enough from imagining, he replied, that I body is made up of bones and muscles; and the bones, as he knew the cause of any of them, indeed I should, for I can- would say, are hard and have ligaments which divide them, not satisfy myself that when one is added to one, the one to and the muscles are elastic, and they cover the bones, which 168 have also a covering or environment of flesh and skin which any more than he who sees them in their working and effects. contains them; and as the bones are lifted at their joints by However, this was the method which I adopted: I first assumed the contraction or relaxation of the muscles, I am able to bend some principle which I judged to be the strongest, and then I my limbs, and this is why I am sitting here in a curved pos- affirmed as true whatever seemed to agree with this, whether ture: that is what he would say, and he would have a similar relating to the cause or to anything else; and that which dis- explanation of my talking to you, which he would attribute to agreed I regarded as untrue. But I should like to explain my sound, and air, and hearing, and he would assign ten thousand meaning clearly, as I do not think that you understand me. other causes of the same sort, forgetting to mention the true No indeed, replied Cebes, not very well. cause, which is that the Athenians have thought fit to condemn There is nothing new, he said, in what I am about to tell you; me, and accordingly I have thought it better and more right to but only what I have been always and everywhere repeating in remain here and undergo my sentence; for I am inclined to the previous discussion and on other occasions: I want to show think that these muscles and bones of mine would have gone you the nature of that cause which has occupied my thoughts, off to Megara or Boeotia, Ð by the dog of Egypt they would, if and I shall have to go back to those familiar words which are they had been guided only by their own idea of what was best, in the mouth of everyone, and first of all assume that there is and if I had not chosen as the better and nobler part, instead of an absolute beauty and goodness and greatness, and the like; playing truant and running away, to undergo any punishment grant me this, and I hope to be able to show you the nature of which the state inflicts. There is surely a strange confusion of the cause, and to prove the immortality of the soul. causes and conditions in all this. It may be said, indeed, that Cebes said: You may proceed at once with the proof, as I without bones and muscles and the other parts of the body I readily grant you this. cannot execute my purposes. But to say that I do as I do be- Well, he said, then I should like to know whether you agree cause of them, and that this is the way in which mind acts, with me in the next step; for I cannot help thinking that if there and not from the choice of the best, is a very careless and idle be anything beautiful other than absolute beauty, that can only mode of speaking. I wonder that they cannot distinguish the be beautiful in as far as it partakes of absolute beauty Ð and cause from the condition, which the many, feeling about in the this I should say of everything. Do you agree in this notion of dark, are always mistaking and misnaming. And thus one man the cause? makes a vortex all round and steadies the earth by the heaven; Yes, he said, I agree. another gives the air as a support to the earth, which is a sort He proceeded: I know nothing and can understand nothing of broad trough. Any power which in disposing them as they of any other of those wise causes which are alleged; and if a are disposes them for the best never enters into their minds, person says to me that the bloom of color, or form, or any- nor do they imagine that there is any superhuman strength in thing else of that sort is a source of beauty, I leave all that, that; they rather expect to find another Atlas of the world who which is only confusing to me, and simply and singly, and is stronger and more everlasting and more containing than the perhaps foolishly, hold and am assured in my own mind that good is, and are clearly of opinion that the obligatory and con- nothing makes a thing beautiful but the presence and partici- taining power of the good is as nothing; and yet this is the pation of beauty in whatever way or manner obtained; for as principle which I would fain learn if anyone would teach me. to the manner I am uncertain, but I stoutly contend that by beauty all beautiful things become beautiful. That appears to me to be the only safe answer that I can give, either to myself 4.12. Socrates’ Reply to Cebes: Socrates’ Theory of or to any other, and to that I cling, in the persuasion that I shall Causation. Forms as Causes never be overthrown, and that I may safely answer to myself or any other that by beauty beautiful things become beautiful. But as I have failed either to discover myself or to learn Do you not agree to that? of anyone else, the nature of the best, I will exhibit to you, Yes, I agree. if you like, what I have found to be the second best mode of And that by greatness only great things become great and inquiring into the cause. greater greater, and by smallness the less becomes less. I should very much like to hear that, he replied. True. Socrates proceeded: I thought that as I had failed in the con- Then if a person remarks that A is taller by a head than B, templation of true existence, I ought to be careful that I did not and B less by a head than A, you would refuse to admit this, lose the eye of my soul; as people may injure their bodily eye and would stoutly contend that what you mean is only that the by observing and gazing on the sun during an eclipse, unless greater is greater by, and by reason of, greatness, and the less they take the precaution of only looking at the image reflected is less only by, or by reason of, smallness; and thus you would in the water, or in some similar medium. That occurred to avoid the danger of saying that the greater is greater and the me, and I was afraid that my soul might be blinded altogether less less by the measure of the head, which is the same in both, if I looked at things with my eyes or tried by the help of the and would also avoid the monstrous absurdity of supposing senses to apprehend them. And I thought that I had better have that the greater man is greater by reason of the head, which is recourse to ideas, and seek in them the truth of existence. I small. Would you not be afraid of that? dare say that the simile is not perfect Ð for I am very far Indeed, I should, said Cebes, laughing. from admitting that he who contemplates existence through In like manner you would be afraid to say that ten exceeded the medium of ideas, sees them only “through a glass darkly,” eight by, and by reason of, two; but would say by, and by 169 reason of, number; or that two cubits exceed one cubit by a to be small, because he is in a mean between them, exceed- half, but by magnitude? Ð that is what you would say, for ing the smallness of the one by his greatness, and allowing there is the same danger in both cases. the greatness of the other to exceed his smallness. He added, Very true, he said. laughing, I am speaking like a book, but I believe that what I Again, would you not be cautious of affirming that the ad- am saying is true. dition of one to one, or the division of one, is the cause of Simmias assented to this. two? And you would loudly asseverate that you know of no The reason why I say this is that I want you to agree with way in which anything comes into existence except by par- me in thinking, not only that absolute greatness will never be ticipation in its own proper essence, and consequently, as far great and also small, but that greatness in us or in the concrete as you know, the only cause of two is the participation in du- will never admit the small or admit of being exceeded: in- ality; that is the way to make two, and the participation in stead of this, one of two things will happen, either the greater one is the way to make one. You would say: I will let alone will fly or retire before the opposite, which is the less, or at puzzles of division and addition Ð wiser heads than mine may the advance of the less will cease to exist; but will not, if al- answer them; inexperienced as I am, and ready to start, as lowing or admitting smallness, be changed by that; even as I, the proverb says, at my own shadow, I cannot afford to give having received and admitted smallness when compared with up the sure ground of a principle. And if anyone assails you Simmias, remain just as I was, and am the same small person. there, you would not mind him, or answer him until you had And as the idea of greatness cannot condescend ever to be or seen whether the consequences which follow agree with one become small, in like manner the smallness in us cannot be or another or not, and when you are further required to give an become great; nor can any other opposite which remains the explanation of this principle, you would go on to assume a same ever be or become its own opposite, but either passes higher principle, and the best of the higher ones, until you away or perishes in the change. found a resting-place; but you would not confuse the princi- That, replied Cebes, is quite my notion. ple and the consequences in your reasoning, like the Eristics One of the company, though I do not exactly remember Ð at least if you wanted to discover real existence. Not that which of them, on hearing this, said: By Heaven, is not this this confusion signifies to them who never care or think about the direct contrary of what was admitted before Ð that out of the matter at all, for they have the wit to be well pleased with the greater came the less and out of the less the greater, and themselves, however great may be the turmoil of their ideas. that opposites are simply generated from opposites; whereas But you, if you are a philosopher, will, I believe, do as I say. now this seems to be utterly denied. What you say is most true, said Simmias and Cebes, both Socrates inclined his head to the speaker and listened. I speaking at once. like your courage, he said, in reminding us of this. But you do ECHECRATES. Yes, Phaedo; and I don’t wonder at their not observe that there is a difference in the two cases. For then assenting. Anyone who has the least sense will acknowledge we were speaking of opposites in the concrete, and now of the the wonderful clarity of Socrates’ reasoning. essential opposite which, as is affirmed, neither in us nor in PHAEDO. Certainly, Echecrates; and that was the feeling nature can ever be at variance with itself: then, my friend, of the whole company at the time. we were speaking of things in which opposites are inherent ECHECRATES. Yes, and equally of ourselves, who were and which are called after them, but now about the opposites not of the company, and are now listening to your recital. But which are inherent in them and which give their name to them; what followed? these essential opposites will never, as we maintain, admit PHAEDO. After all this was admitted, and they had agreed of generation into or out of one another. At the same time, about the existence of ideas and the participation in them of turning to Cebes, he said: Were you at all disconcerted, Cebes, the other things which derive their names from them, Socrates, at our friend’s objection? if I remember rightly, said: Ð That was not my feeling, said Cebes; and yet I cannot deny This is your way of speaking; and yet when you say that that I am apt to be disconcerted. Simmias is greater than Socrates and less than Phaedo, do you Then we are agreed after all, said Socrates, that the opposite not predicate of Simmias both greatness and smallness? will never in any case be opposed to itself? Yes, I do. To that we are quite agreed, he replied. But still you allow that Simmias does not really exceed Yet once more let me ask you to consider the question from Socrates, as the words may seem to imply, because he is Sim- another point of view, and see whether you agree with me: mias, but by reason of the size which he has; just as Simmias There is a thing which you term heat, and another thing which does not exceed Socrates because he is Simmias, any more you term cold? than because Socrates is Socrates, but because he has small- Certainly. ness when compared with the greatness of Simmias? But are they the same as fire and snow? True. Most assuredly not. And if Phaedo exceeds him in size, that is not because Heat is not the same as fire, nor is cold the same as snow? Phaedo is Phaedo, but because Phaedo has greatness relatively No. to Simmias, who is comparatively smaller? And yet you will surely admit that when snow, as was said That is true. before, is under the influence of heat, they will not remain And therefore Simmias is said to be great, and is also said snow and heat; but at the advance of the heat, the snow will 170 either retire or perish? And to the odd is opposed the even? Very true, he replied. True. And the fire too at the advance of the cold will either retire Then the idea of the even number will never arrive at three? or perish; and when the fire is under the influence of the cold, No. they will not remain as before, fire and cold. Then three has no part in the even? That is true, he said. None. And in some cases the name of the idea is not confined to Then the triad or number three is uneven? the idea; but anything else which, not being the idea, exists Very true. only in the form of the idea, may also lay claim to it. I will To return then to my distinction of natures which are not try to make this clearer by an example: The odd number is opposites, and yet do not admit opposites: as in this instance, always called by the name of odd? three, although not opposed to the even, does not any the more Very true. admit of the even, but always brings the opposite into play on But is this the only thing which is called odd? Are there not the other side; or as two does not receive the odd, or fire the other things which have their own name, and yet are called cold Ð from these examples (and there are many more of them) odd, because, although not the same as oddness, they are never perhaps you may be able to arrive at the general conclusion without oddness? Ð that is what I mean to ask-whether num- that not only opposites will not receive opposites, but also that bers such as the number three are not of the class of odd. And nothing which brings the opposite will admit the opposite of there are many other examples: would you not say, for exam- that which it brings in that to which it is brought. And here ple, that three may be called by its proper name, and also be let me recapitulate Ð for there is no harm in repetition. The called odd, which is not the same with three? and this may number five will not admit the nature of the even, any more be said not only of three but also of five, and every alternate than ten, which is the double of five, will admit the nature of number Ð each of them without being oddness is odd, and in the odd-the double, though not strictly opposed to the odd, the same way two and four, and the whole series of alternate rejects the odd altogether. Nor again will parts in the ratio numbers, has every number even, without being evenness. Do of 3:2, nor any fraction in which there is a half, nor again in you admit that? which there is a third, admit the notion of the whole, although Yes, he said, how can I deny that? they are not opposed to the whole. You will agree to that? Then now mark the point at which I am aiming: not only Yes, he said, I entirely agree and go along with you in that. do essential opposites exclude one another, but also concrete things, which, although not in themselves opposed, contain opposites; these, I say, also reject the idea which is opposed 4.13. Socrates’ Reply to Cebes: The Soul in Particular to that which is contained in them, and at the advance of that they either perish or withdraw. There is the number three for And now, he said, I think that I may begin again; and to example; will not that endure annihilation or anything sooner the question which I am about to ask I will beg you to give than be converted into an even number, remaining three? not the old safe answer, but another, of which I will offer you Very true, said Cebes. an example; and I hope that you will find in what has been And yet, he said, the number two is certainly not opposed just said another foundation which is as safe. I mean that if to the number three? anyone asks you “What that is, the inherence of which makes It is not. the body hot,” you will reply not heat (this is what I call the Then not only do opposite ideas repel the advance of one safe and stupid answer), but fire, a far better answer, which we another, but also there are other things which repel the ap- are now in a condition to give. Or if anyone asks you “Why proach of opposites. a body is diseased,” you will not say from disease, but from That is quite true, he said. fever; and instead of saying that oddness is the cause of odd Suppose, he said, that we endeavor, if possible, to deter- numbers, you will say that the monad is the cause of them: and mine what these are. so of things in general, as I dare say that you will understand By all means. sufficiently without my adducing any further examples. Are they not, Cebes, such as compel the things of which Yes, he said, I quite understand you. they have possession, not only to take their own form, but also Tell me, then, what is that the inherence of which will ren- the form of some opposite? der the body alive? What do you mean? The soul, he replied. I mean, as I was just now saying, and have no need to repeat And is this always the case? to you, that those things which are possessed by the number Yes, he said, of course. three must not only be three in number, but must also be odd. Then whatever the soul possesses, to that she comes bearing Quite true. life? And on this oddness, of which the number three has the Yes, certainly. impress, the opposite idea will never intrude? And is there any opposite to life? No. There is, he said. And this impress was given by the odd principle? And what is that? Yes. Death. 171

Then the soul, as has been acknowledged, will never receive Then when death attacks a man, the mortal portion of him the opposite of what she brings. And now, he said, what did may be supposed to die, but the immortal goes out of the way we call that principle which repels the even? of death and is preserved safe and sound? The odd. True. And that principle which repels the musical, or the just? Then, Cebes, beyond question, the soul is immortal and The unmusical, he said, and the unjust. imperishable, and our souls will truly exist in another world! And what do we call that principle which does not admit of death? The immortal, he said. 4.14. The Myth of the Afterlife And does the soul admit of death? No. I am convinced, Socrates, said Cebes, and have nothing Then the soul is immortal? more to object; but if my friend Simmias, or anyone else, has Yes, he said. any further objection, he had better speak out, and not keep si- And may we say that this is proven? lence, since I do not know how there can ever be a more fitting Yes, abundantly proven, Socrates, he replied. time to which he can defer the discussion, if there is anything And supposing that the odd were imperishable, must not which he wants to say or have said. three be imperishable? But I have nothing more to say, replied Simmias; nor do I Of course. see any room for uncertainty, except that which arises neces- And if that which is cold were imperishable, when the warm sarily out of the greatness of the subject and the feebleness of principle came attacking the snow, must not the snow have man, and which I cannot help feeling. retired whole and unmelted Ð for it could never have perished, Yes, Simmias, replied Socrates, that is well said: and more nor could it have remained and admitted the heat? than that, first principles, even if they appear certain, should True, he said. be carefully considered; and when they are satisfactorily as- Again, if the uncooling or warm principle were imperish- certained, then, with a sort of hesitating confidence in human able, the fire when assailed by cold would not have perished reason, you may, I think, follow the course of the argument; or have been extinguished, but would have gone away unaf- and if this is clear, there will be no need for any further in- fected? quiry. Certainly, he said. That, he said, is true. And the same may be said of the immortal: if the immortal But then, O my friends, he said, if the soul is really im- is also imperishable, the soul when attacked by death cannot mortal, what care should be taken of her, not only in respect perish; for the preceding argument shows that the soul will not of the portion of time which is called life, but of eternity! And admit of death, or ever be dead, any more than three or the odd the danger of neglecting her from this point of view does in- number will admit of the even, or fire or the heat in the fire, deed appear to be awful. If death had only been the end of all, of the cold. Yet a person may say: “But although the odd will the wicked would have had a good bargain in dying, for they not become even at the approach of the even, why may not the would have been happily quit not only of their body, but of odd perish and the even take the place of the odd?” Now to their own evil together with their souls. But now, as the soul him who makes this objection, we cannot answer that the odd plainly appears to be immortal, there is no release or salvation principle is imperishable; for this has not been acknowledged, from evil except the attainment of the highest virtue and wis- but if this had been acknowledged, there would have been no dom. For the soul when on her progress to the world below difficulty in contending that at the approach of the even the takes nothing with her but nurture and education; which are odd principle and the number three took up their departure; indeed said greatly to benefit or greatly to injure the departed, and the same argument would have held good of fire and heat at the very beginning of its pilgrimage in the other world. and any other thing. For after death, as they say, the genius of each individual, Very true. to whom he belonged in life, leads him to a certain place in And the same may be said of the immortal: if the immortal which the dead are gathered together for judgment, whence is also imperishable, then the soul will be imperishable as well they go into the world below, following the guide who is ap- as immortal; but if not, some other proof of her imperishable- pointed to conduct them from this world to the other: and ness will have to be given. when they have there received their due and remained their No other proof is needed, he said; for if the immortal, being time, another guide brings them back again after many revo- eternal, is liable to perish, then nothing is imperishable. lutions of ages. Now this journey to the other world is not, as Yes, replied Socrates, all men will agree that God, and the Aeschylus says in the Telephus, a single and straight path, Ð essential form of life, and the immortal in general, will never no guide would be wanted for that, and no one could miss a perish. single path; but there are many partings of the road, and wind- Yes, all men, he said, Ð that is true; and what is more, gods, ings, as I must infer from the rites and sacrifices which are if I am not mistaken, as well as men. offered to the gods below in places where three ways meet on Seeing then that the immortal is indestructible, must not earth. The wise and orderly soul is conscious of her situation the soul, if she is immortal, be also imperishable? and follows in the path; but the soul which desires the body, Most certainly. and which, as I was relating before, has long been fluttering 172 about the lifeless frame and the world of sight, is after many dwelling in a hollow of the earth, and fancy that we are on the struggles and many sufferings hardly and with violence car- surface; and the air we call the heaven, and in this we imagine ried away by her attendant genius, and when she arrives at the that the stars move. But this is also owing to our feebleness place where the other souls are gathered, if she be impure and and sluggishness, which prevent our reaching the surface of have done impure deeds, or been concerned in foul murders the air: for if any man could arrive at the exterior limit, or or other crimes which are the brothers of these, and the works take the wings of a bird and fly upward, like a fish who puts of brothers in crime, Ð from that soul everyone flees and turns his head out and sees this world, he would see a world beyond; away; no one will be her companion, no one her guide, but and, if the nature of man could sustain the sight, he would ac- alone she wanders in extremity of evil until certain times are knowledge that this was the place of the true heaven and the fulfilled, and when they are fulfilled, she is borne irresistibly true light and the true stars. For this earth, and the stones, and to her own fitting habitation; as every pure and just soul which the entire region which surrounds us, are spoilt and corroded, has passed through life in the company and under the guidance like the things in the sea which are corroded by the brine; of the gods has also her own proper home. for in the sea too there is hardly any noble or perfect growth, Now the earth has divers wonderful regions, and is indeed but clefts only, and sand, and an endless slough of mud: and in nature and extent very unlike the notions of geographers, as even the shore is not to be compared to the fairer sights of this I believe on the authority of one who shall be nameless. world. And greater far is the superiority of the other. Now What do you mean, Socrates? said Simmias. I have myself of that upper earth which is under the heaven, I can tell you a heard many descriptions of the earth, but I do not know in charming tale, Simmias, which is well worth hearing. what you are putting your faith, and I should like to know. And we, Socrates, replied Simmias, shall be charmed to Well, Simmias, replied Socrates, the recital of a tale does listen. not, I think, require the art of Glaucus; and I know not that The tale, my friend, he said, is as follows: In the first place, the art of Glaucus could prove the truth of my tale, which I the earth, when looked at from above, is like one of those myself should never be able to prove, and even if I could, I balls which have leather coverings in twelve pieces, and is of fear, Simmias, that my life would come to an end before the divers colors, of which the colors which painters use on earth argument was completed. I may describe to you, however, the are only a sample. But there the whole earth is made up of form and regions of the earth according to my conception of them, and they are brighter far and clearer than ours; there is them. a purple of wonderful luster, also the radiance of gold, and the That, said Simmias, will be enough. white which is in the earth is whiter than any chalk or snow. Well then, he said, my conviction is that the earth is a round Of these and other colors the earth is made up, and they are body in the center of the heavens, and therefore has no need more in number and fairer than the eye of man has ever seen; of air or any similar force as a support, but is kept there and and the very hollows (of which I was speaking) filled with air hindered from falling or inclining any way by the equability and water are seen like light flashing amid the other colors, of the surrounding heaven and by her own equipoise. For that and have a color of their own, which gives a sort of unity to which, being in equipoise, is in the center of that which is the variety of earth. And in this fair region everything that equably diffused, will not incline any way in any degree, but grows Ð trees, and flowers, and fruits Ð are in a like degree will always remain in the same state and not deviate. And this fairer than any here; and there are hills, and stones in them is my first notion. in a like degree smoother, and more transparent, and fairer Which is surely a correct one, said Simmias. in color than our highly-valued emeralds and sardonyxes and Also I believe that the earth is very vast, and that we who jaspers, and other gems, which are but minute fragments of dwell in the region extending from the river Phasis to the Pil- them: for there all the stones are like our precious stones, and lars of Heracles along the borders of the sea, are just like ants fairer still. The reason of this is that they are pure, and not, or frogs about a marsh, and inhabit a small portion only, and like our precious stones, infected or corroded by the corrupt that many others dwell in many like places. For I should say briny elements which coagulate among us, and which breed that in all parts of the earth there are hollows of various forms foulness and disease both in earth and stones, as well as in and sizes, into which the water and the mist and the air collect; animals and plants. They are the jewels of the upper earth, and that the true earth is pure and in the pure heaven, in which which also shines with gold and silver and the like, and they also are the stars Ð that is the heaven which is commonly spo- are visible to sight and large and abundant and found in every ken of as the ether, of which this is but the sediment collecting region of the earth, and blessed is he who sees them. And in the hollows of the earth. But we who live in these hollows upon the earth are animals and men, some in a middle region, are deceived into the notion that we are dwelling above on the others dwelling about the air as we dwell about the sea; others surface of the earth; which is just as if a creature who was at in islands which the air flows round, near the continent: and in the bottom of the sea were to fancy that he was on the surface a word, the air is used by them as the water and the sea are by of the water, and that the sea was the heaven through which us, and the ether is to them what the air is to us. Moreover, the he saw the sun and the other stars, Ð he having never come to temperament of their seasons is such that they have no disease, the surface by reason of his feebleness and sluggishness, and and live much longer than we do, and have sight and hearing having never lifted up his head and seen, nor ever heard from and smell, and all the other senses, in far greater perfection, in one who had seen, this region which is so much purer and the same degree that air is purer than water or the ether than fairer than his own. Now this is exactly our case: for we are air. Also they have temples and sacred places in which the 173 gods really dwell, and they hear their voices and receive their of the many go when they are dead, and after waiting an ap- answers, and are conscious of them and hold converse with pointed time, which is to some a longer and to some a shorter them, and they see the sun, moon, and stars as they really are, time, they are sent back again to be born as animals. The and their other blessedness is of a piece with this. third river rises between the two, and near the place of ris- Such is the nature of the whole earth, and of the things ing pours into a vast region of fire, and forms a lake larger which are around the earth; and there are divers regions in than the Mediterranean Sea, boiling with water and mud; and the hollows on the face of the globe everywhere, some of proceeding muddy and turbid, and winding about the earth, them deeper and also wider than that which we inhabit, oth- comes, among other places, to the extremities of the Acheru- ers deeper and with a narrower opening than ours, and some sian lake, but mingles not with the waters of the lake, and are shallower and wider; all have numerous perforations, and after making many coils about the earth plunges into Tartarus passages broad and narrow in the interior of the earth, con- at a deeper level. This is that Pyriphlegethon, as the stream necting them with one another; and there flows into and out is called, which throws up jets of fire in all sorts of places. of them, as into basins, a vast tide of water, and huge subter- The fourth river goes out on the opposite side, and falls first ranean streams of perennial rivers, and springs hot and cold, of all into a wild and savage region, which is all of a dark-blue and a great fire, and great rivers of fire, and streams of liquid color, like lapis lazuli; and this is that river which is called the mud, thin or thick (like the rivers of mud in Sicily, and the Stygian river, and falls into and forms the Lake Styx, and after lava streams which follow them), and the regions about which falling into the lake and receiving strange powers in the wa- they happen to flow are filled up with them. And there is a ters, passes under the earth, winding round in the opposite di- sort of swing in the interior of the earth which moves all this rection to Pyriphlegethon, and meeting in the Acherusian lake up and down. Now the swing is in this wise: There is a chasm from the opposite side. And the water of this river too mingles which is the vastest of them all, and pierces right through the with no other, but flows round in a circle and falls into Tartarus whole earth; this is that which Homer describes in the words: over against Pyriphlegethon, and the name of this river, as the Ð “Far off, where is the inmost depth beneath the earth;” poets say, is Cocytus. and which he in other places, and many other poets, have Such is the nature of the other world; and when the dead called Tartarus. And the swing is caused by the streams flow- arrive at the place to which the genius of each severally con- ing into and out of this chasm, and they each have the nature veys them, first of all, they have sentence passed upon them, of the soil through which they flow. And the reason why the as they have lived well and piously or not. And those who ap- streams are always flowing in and out is that the watery el- pear to have lived neither well nor ill, go to the river Acheron, ement has no bed or bottom, and is surging and swinging up and mount such conveyances as they can get, and are carried and down, and the surrounding wind and air do the same; they in them to the lake, and there they dwell and are purified of follow the water up and down, hither and thither, over the earth their evil deeds, and suffer the penalty of the wrongs which Ð just as in respiring the air is always in process of inhalation they have done to others, and are absolved, and receive the and exhalation; and the wind swinging with the water in and rewards of their good deeds according to their deserts. But out produces fearful and irresistible blasts: when the waters those who appear to be incurable by reason of the greatness of retire with a rush into the lower parts of the earth, as they are their crimes Ð who have committed many and terrible deeds called, they flow through the earth into those regions, and fill of sacrilege, murders foul and violent, or the like Ð such are them up as with the alternate motion of a pump, and then when hurled into Tartarus, which is their suitable destiny, and they they leave those regions and rush back hither, they again fill never come out. Those again who have committed crimes, the hollows here, and when these are filled, flow through sub- which, although great, are not unpardonable Ð who in a mo- terranean channels and find their way to their several places, ment of anger, for example, have done violence to a father or forming seas, and lakes, and rivers, and springs. Thence they mother, and have repented for the remainder of their lives, again enter the earth, some of them making a long circuit into or who have taken the life of another under like extenuating many lands, others going to few places and those not distant, circumstances Ð these are plunged into Tartarus, the pains of and again fall into Tartarus, some at a point a good deal lower which they are compelled to undergo for a year, but at the end than that at which they rose, and others not much lower, but of the year the wave casts them forth Ð mere homicides by all in some degree lower than the point of issue. And some way of Cocytus, parricides and matricides by Pyriphlegethon burst forth again on the opposite side, and some on the same Ð and they are borne to the Acherusian lake, and there they lift side, and some wind round the earth with one or many folds, up their voices and call upon the victims whom they have slain like the coils of a serpent, and descend as far as they can, but or wronged, to have pity on them, and to receive them, and to always return and fall into the lake. The rivers on either side let them come out of the river into the lake. And if they pre- can descend only to the center and no further, for to the rivers vail, then they come forth and cease from their troubles; but if on both sides the opposite side is a precipice. not, they are carried back again into Tartarus and from thence Now these rivers are many, and mighty, and diverse, and into the rivers unceasingly, until they obtain mercy from those there are four principal ones, of which the greatest and out- whom they have wronged: for that is the sentence inflicted ermost is that called Oceanus, which flows round the earth in upon them by their judges. Those also who are remarkable for a circle; and in the opposite direction flows Acheron, which having led holy lives are released from this earthly prison, and passes under the earth through desert places, into the Acheru- go to their pure home which is above, and dwell in the purer sian lake: this is the lake to the shores of which the souls earth; and those who have duly purified themselves with phi- 174 losophy live henceforth altogether without the body, in man- body being burned or buried. I would not have him sorrow at sions fairer far than these, which may not be described, and of my hard lot, or say at the burial, Thus we lay out Socrates, or, which the time would fail me to tell. Thus we follow him to the grave or bury him; for false words Wherefore, Simmias, seeing all these things, what ought are not only evil in themselves, but they infect the soul with not we to do in order to obtain virtue and wisdom in this life? evil. Be of good cheer then, my dear Crito, and say that you Fair is the prize, and the hope great. are burying my body only, and do with that as is usual, and I do not mean to affirm that the description which I have as you think best. given of the soul and her mansions is exactly true Ð a man of When he had spoken these words, he arose and went into sense ought hardly to say that. But I do say that, inasmuch as the bath-chamber with Crito, who bid us wait; and we waited, the soul is shown to be immortal, he may venture to think, not talking and thinking of the subject of discourse, and also of improperly or unworthily, that something of the kind is true. the greatness of our sorrow; he was like a father of whom we The venture is a glorious one, and he ought to comfort himself were being bereaved, and we were about to pass the rest of with words like these, which is the reason why I lengthen out our lives as orphans. When he had taken the bath his children the tale. Wherefore, I say, let a man be of good cheer about were brought to him Ð (he had two young sons and an elder his soul, who has cast away the pleasures and ornaments of one); and the women of his family also came, and he talked to the body as alien to him, and rather hurtful in their effects, them and gave them a few directions in the presence of Crito; and has followed after the pleasures of knowledge in this life; and he then dismissed them and returned to us. who has adorned the soul in her own proper jewels, which are Now the hour of sunset was near, for a good deal of time had temperance, and justice, and courage, and nobility, and truth Ð passed while he was within. When he came out, he sat down in these arrayed she is ready to go on her journey to the world with us again after his bath, but not much was said. Soon below, when her time comes. You, Simmias and Cebes, and the jailer, who was the servant of the Eleven, entered and all other men, will depart at some time or other. Me already, stood by him, saying: To you, Socrates, whom I know to be as the tragic poet would say, the voice of fate calls. Soon I the noblest and gentlest and best of all who ever came to this must drink the poison; and I think that I had better repair to place, I will not impute the angry feelings of other men, who the bath first, in order that the women may not have the trouble rage and swear at me when, in obedience to the authorities, I of washing my body after I am dead. bid them drink the poison Ð indeed, I am sure that you will not be angry with me; for others, as you are aware, and not I, are the guilty cause. And so fare you well, and try to bear lightly 4.15. The Death Scene what must needs be; you know my errand. Then bursting into tears he turned away and went out. When he had done speaking, Crito said: And have you Socrates looked at him and said: I return your good wishes, any commands for us, Socrates Ð anything to say about your and will do as you bid. Then, turning to us, he said, How children, or any other matter in which we can serve you? charming the man is: since I have been in prison he has always Nothing particular, he said: only, as I have always told you, been coming to see me, and at times he would talk to me, and I would have you look to yourselves; that is a service which was as good as could be to me, and now see how generously he you may always be doing to me and mine as well as to your- sorrows for me. But we must do as he says, Crito; let the cup selves. And you need not make professions; for if you take no be brought, if the poison is prepared: if not, let the attendant thought for yourselves, and walk not according to the precepts prepare some. which I have given you, not now for the first time, the warmth Yet, said Crito, the sun is still upon the hilltops, and many of your professions will be of no avail. a one has taken the draught late, and after the announcement We will do our best, said Crito. But in what way would you has been made to him, he has eaten and drunk, and indulged have us bury you? in sensual delights; do not hasten then, there is still time. In any way that you like; only you must get hold of me, and Socrates said: Yes, Crito, and they of whom you speak are take care that I do not walk away from you. Then he turned to right in doing thus, for they think that they will gain by the us, and added with a smile: I cannot make Crito believe that I delay; but I am right in not doing thus, for I do not think that am the same Socrates who have been talking and conducting I should gain anything by drinking the poison a little later; I the argument; he fancies that I am the other Socrates whom he should be sparing and saving a life which is already gone: I will soon see, a dead body Ð and he asks, How shall he bury could only laugh at myself for this. Please then to do as I say, me? And though I have spoken many words in the endeavor and not to refuse me. to show that when I have drunk the poison I shall leave you Crito, when he heard this, made a sign to the servant; and and go to the joys of the blessed, Ð these words of mine, with the servant went in, and remained for some time, and then which I comforted you and myself, have had, as I perceive, returned with the jailer carrying a cup of poison. Socrates no effect upon Crito. And therefore I want you to be surety said: You, my good friend, who are experienced in these mat- for me now, as he was surety for me at the trial: but let the ters, shall give me directions how I am to proceed. The man promise be of another sort; for he was my surety to the judges answered: You have only to walk about until your legs are that I would remain, but you must be my surety to him that heavy, and then to lie down, and the poison will act. At the I shall not remain, but go away and depart; and then he will same time he handed the cup to Socrates, who in the easiest suffer less at my death, and not be grieved when he sees my and gentlest manner, without the least fear or change of color 175 or feature, looking at the man with all his eyes, Echecrates, should die in peace. Be quiet, then, and have patience. When as his manner was, took the cup and said: What do you say we heard that, we were ashamed, and refrained our tears; and about making a libation out of this cup to any god? May I, or he walked about until, as he said, his legs began to fail, and not? The man answered: We only prepare, Socrates, just so then he lay on his back, according to the directions, and the much as we deem enough. I understand, he said: yet I may man who gave him the poison now and then looked at his feet and must pray to the gods to prosper my journey from this and legs; and after a while he pressed his foot hard and asked to that other world Ð may this, then, which is my prayer, be him if he could feel; and he said, no; and then his leg, and granted to me. Then holding the cup to his lips, quite readily so upwards and upwards, and showed us that he was cold and and cheerfully he drank off the poison. And hitherto most of stiff. And he felt them himself, and said: When the poison us had been able to control our sorrow; but now when we saw reaches the heart, that will be the end. He was beginning to him drinking, and saw too that he had finished the draught, we grow cold about the groin, when he uncovered his face, for he could no longer forbear, and in spite of myself my own tears had covered himself up, and said (they were his last words) Ð were flowing fast; so that I covered my face and wept over he said: Crito, I owe a cock to Asclepius; will you remember myself, for certainly I was not weeping over him, but at the to pay the debt? The debt shall be paid, said Crito; is there thought of my own calamity in having lost such a companion. anything else? There was no answer to this question; but in a Nor was I the first, for Crito, when he found himself unable to minute or two a movement was heard, and the attendants un- restrain his tears, had got up and moved away, and I followed; covered him; his eyes were set, and Crito closed his eyes and and at that moment, Apollodorus, who had been weeping all mouth. the time, broke out into a loud cry which made cowards of us all. Socrates alone retained his calmness: What is this strange Such was the end, Echecrates, of our friend, whom I may outcry? he said. I sent away the women mainly in order that truly call the wisest, and justest, and best of all the men whom they might not offend in this way, for I have heard that a man I have ever known.