{"id":5797,"date":"2024-08-13T12:27:43","date_gmt":"2024-08-13T19:27:43","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/factbasedhistory.com\/?page_id=5797"},"modified":"2024-08-15T14:15:57","modified_gmt":"2024-08-15T21:15:57","slug":"socrates-on-education","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/factbasedhistory.com\/socrates-on-education\/","title":{"rendered":"Socrates on Education"},"content":{"rendered":"

Excerpts about Education and Nations
\nFrom \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\n(Politica) by Socrates and Plato<\/span><\/h1>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Education<\/h2>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Come then, and let us pass a leisure hour in story-telling,
\nand our story shall be the education of our heroes.<\/p>\n

By all means.<\/p>\n

And what shall be their education?\u00a0 Can we find a better than the traditional sort?\u2013and this has two
\ndivisions, gymnastic for the body, and music for the soul.<\/p>\n

True.<\/p>\n

Shall we begin education with music, and go on to gymnastic
\nafterwards?<\/p>\n

By all means.<\/p>\n

And when you speak of music, do you include literature or
\nnot?<\/p>\n

I do.<\/p>\n

And literature may be either true or false?<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

And the
\nyoung should be trained in both kinds, and we begin with the false?<\/span><\/p>\n

I do not understand your meaning, he said.<\/p>\n

You
\nknow, I said, that we begin by telling children stories which, though not
\nwholly destitute of truth, are in the main fictitious; and these stories are
\ntold them when they are not of an age to learn gymnastics.<\/span><\/p>\n

Very true.<\/p>\n

That was my meaning when I said that we must teach music
\nbefore gymnastics.<\/p>\n

Quite right, he said.<\/p>\n

You
\nknow also that the beginning is the most important part of any work, especially
\nin the case of a young and tender thing; for that is the time at which the
\ncharacter is being formed and the desired impression is more readily taken.<\/span><\/p>\n

Quite
\ntrue.<\/span><\/p>\n

And
\nshall we just carelessly allow children to hear any casual tales which may be
\ndevised by casual persons, and to receive into their minds ideas for the most
\npart the very opposite of those which we should wish them to have when they are
\ngrown up?<\/span><\/p>\n

We cannot.<\/p>\n

Then
\nthe first thing will be to establish a censorship of the writers of fiction,
\nand let the censors receive any tale of fiction which is good, and reject the
\nbad; and we will try our best to get mothers and nurses to tell their children
\nthe authorized ones only.<\/span><\/p>\n

Let them fashion the mind with such tales, even more fondly
\nthan they mould the body with their hands; but most of those which are now in
\nuse must be discarded.<\/p>\n

Of what tales are you speaking?\u00a0 he said.<\/p>\n

You may find a model of the lesser in the greater, I said;
\nfor they are necessarily of the same type, and there is the same spirit in both
\nof them.<\/p>\n

Very likely, he replied; but I do not as yet know what you
\nwould term the greater.<\/p>\n

Those, I said, which are narrated by Homer and Hesiod, and
\nthe rest of the poets, who have ever been the great story-tellers of mankind.<\/p>\n

But which stories do you mean, he said; and what fault do
\nyou find with them?<\/p>\n

A fault which is most serious, I said; the fault of telling
\na lie, and, what is more, a bad lie.<\/p>\n

But when is this fault committed?<\/p>\n

Whenever an erroneous representation is made of the nature
\nof gods and heroes,\u2013as when a painter paints a portrait not having the shadow
\nof a likeness to the original.<\/p>\n

Yes, he said, that sort of thing is certainly very
\nblamable; but what are the stories which you mean?<\/p>\n

First of all, I said, there was that greatest of all lies in
\nhigh places, which the poet told about Uranus, and which was a bad lie too,\u2013I
\nmean what Hesiod says that Uranus did, and how Cronus retaliated on him.<\/p>\n

The
\ndoings of Cronus, and the sufferings which in turn his son inflicted upon him,
\neven if they were true, ought certainly not to be lightly told to young and
\nthoughtless persons; if possible, they had better be buried in silence.<\/span><\/p>\n

But if
\nthere is an absolute necessity for their mention, a chosen few might hear them
\nin a mystery, and they should sacrifice not a common (Eleusinian) pig, but some
\nhuge and unprocurable victim; and then the number of the hearers will be very
\nfew indeed.<\/span><\/p>\n

Why, yes, said he, those stories are extremely
\nobjectionable.<\/p>\n

Yes, Adeimantus,
\nthey are stories not to be repeated in our nation; the young man should not be
\ntold that in committing the worst of crimes he is far from doing anything
\noutrageous; and that even if he chastises his father when he does wrong, in
\nwhatever manner, he will only be following the example of the first and
\ngreatest among the gods.<\/span><\/p>\n

I entirely agree with you, he said; in my opinion those
\nstories are quite unfit to be repeated.<\/p>\n

Neither, if we mean our future guardians to regard the habit
\nof quarrelling among themselves as of all things the basest, should any word be
\nsaid to them of the wars in heaven, and of the plots and fightings of the gods
\nagainst one another, for they are not true.<\/p>\n

No, we shall never mention the battles of the giants, or let
\nthem be embroidered on garments; and we shall be silent about the innumerable
\nother quarrels of gods and heroes with their friends and relatives.<\/p>\n

If they would only believe us we would tell them that
\nquarrelling is unholy, and that never up to this time has there been any
\nquarrel between citizens; this is what old men and old women should begin by
\ntelling children; and when they grow up, the poets also should be told to
\ncompose for them in a similar spirit.<\/p>\n

But the narrative of Hephaestus binding Here his mother, or
\nhow on another occasion Zeus sent him flying for taking her part when she was
\nbeing beaten, and all the battles of the gods in Homer\u2013these tales must not be
\nadmitted into our nation, whether they are supposed to have an allegorical
\nmeaning or not.<\/p>\n

For a
\nyoung person cannot judge what is allegorical and what is literal; anything
\nthat he receives into his mind at that age is likely to become indelible and
\nunalterable; and therefore it is most important that the tales which the young
\nfirst hear should be models of virtuous thoughts.<\/span><\/p>\n

There
\nyou are right, he replied; but if any one asks where are such models to be
\nfound and of what tales are you speaking\u2013how shall we answer him?<\/span><\/p>\n

I said
\nto him, You and I, Adeimantus, at this moment are not poets, but founders of a\nnation:
\nnow the founders of a nation ought to know the general forms in which poets
\nshould cast their tales, and the limits which must be observed by them, but to
\nmake the tales is not their business.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Now Socrates argues that the old religions are not suitable for\nthe
\noperation of a nation.\u00a0 A new religion
\nmust be created to create the right state of mind for the defense of a
\nnation.\u00a0 <\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Very true,
\nhe said; but what are these forms of theology which you mean?<\/span><\/p>\n

Something
\nof this kind, I replied:\u2013God is always to be represented as he truly is,
\nwhatever be the sort of poetry, epic, lyric or tragic, in which the
\nrepresentation is given.<\/span><\/p>\n

Right.<\/span><\/p>\n

And is he
\nnot truly good?\u00a0 and must he not be
\nrepresented as such?<\/span><\/p>\n

Certainly.<\/span><\/p>\n

And no good
\nthing is hurtful?<\/span><\/p>\n

No, indeed.<\/span><\/p>\n

And that
\nwhich is not hurtful hurts not?<\/span><\/p>\n

Certainly
\nnot.<\/span><\/p>\n

And that
\nwhich hurts not does no evil?<\/span><\/p>\n

No.<\/span><\/p>\n

And can
\nthat which does no evil be a cause of evil?<\/span><\/p>\n

Impossible.<\/span><\/p>\n

And the
\ngood is advantageous?<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes.<\/span><\/p>\n

And
\ntherefore the cause of well-being?<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes.<\/span><\/p>\n

It follows
\ntherefore that the good is not the cause of all things, but of the good only?<\/span><\/p>\n

Assuredly.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then God,
\nif he be good, is not the author of all things, as the many assert, but he is
\nthe cause of a few things only, and not of most things that occur to men.<\/span><\/p>\n

For few are
\nthe goods of human life, and many are the evils, and the good is to be
\nattributed to God alone; of the evils the causes are to be sought elsewhere,
\nand not in him.<\/span><\/p>\n

That
\nappears to me to be most true, he said.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then we
\nmust not listen to Homer or to any other poet<\/span> who is guilty of the folly
\nof saying that two casks \u2019Lie at the threshold of Zeus, full of lots, one of
\ngood, the other of evil lots,\u2019 and that he to whom Zeus gives a mixture of the
\ntwo \u2019Sometimes meets with evil fortune, at other times with good;\u2019 but that he
\nto whom is given the cup of unmingled ill, \u2019Him wild hunger drives o\u2019er the
\nbeauteous earth.\u2019 And again\u2013 \u2019Zeus, who is the dispenser of good and evil to
\nus.\u2019 And if any one asserts that the violation of oaths and treaties, which was
\nreally the work of Pandarus, was brought about by Athene and Zeus, or that the
\nstrife and contention of the gods was instigated by Themis and Zeus, he shall
\nnot have our approval; neither will we allow our young men to hear the words of
\nAeschylus, that \u2019God plants guilt among men when he desires utterly to destroy
\na house.\u2019<\/p>\n

And if a poet writes of the sufferings of Niobe\u2013the subject
\nof the tragedy in which these iambic verses occur\u2013or of the house of Pelops, or
\nof the Trojan war or on any similar theme, either we must not permit him to say
\nthat these are the works of God, or if they are of God, he must devise some
\nexplanation of them such as we are seeking; he must say that God did what was
\njust and right, and they were the better for being punished; but that those who
\nare punished are miserable, and that God is the author of their misery\u2013the poet
\nis not to be permitted to say; though he may say that the wicked are miserable
\nbecause they require to be punished, and are benefited by receiving punishment
\nfrom God; but that God being good is the author of evil to any one is to be
\nstrenuously denied, and not to be said or sung or heard in verse or prose by
\nany one whether old or young in any well-ordered commonwealth.<\/p>\n

Such a fiction is suicidal, ruinous, impious.<\/p>\n

I agree with you, he replied, and am ready to give my assent
\nto the law.<\/p>\n

Let this
\nthen be one of our rules and principles concerning the gods, to which our poets
\nand recites will be expected to conform,\u2013that God is not the author of all
\nthings, but of good only.<\/span><\/p>\n

That will
\ndo, he said.<\/span><\/p>\n

And what do you think of a second principle?\u00a0 Shall I ask you whether God is a magician,
\nand of a nature to appear insidiously now in one shape, and now in
\nanother\u2013sometimes himself changing and passing into many forms, sometimes
\ndeceiving us with the semblance of such transformations; or is he one and the
\nsame immutably fixed in his own proper image?<\/p>\n

I cannot answer you, he said, without more thought.<\/p>\n

Well, I said; but if we suppose a change in anything, that
\nchange must be effected either by the thing itself, or by some other thing?<\/p>\n

Most certainly.<\/p>\n

And things which are at their best are also least liable to
\nbe altered or discomposed; for example, when healthiest and strongest, the
\nhuman frame is least liable to be affected by meats and drinks, and the plant
\nwhich is in the fullest vigor also suffers least from winds or the heat of the
\nsun or any similar causes.<\/p>\n

Of course.<\/p>\n

And will not the bravest and wisest soul be least confused
\nor deranged by any external influence?<\/p>\n

True.<\/p>\n

And the same principle, as I should suppose, applies to all
\ncomposite things\u2013 furniture, houses, garments: when good and well made, they
\nare least altered by time and circumstances.<\/p>\n

Very true.<\/p>\n

Then everything which is good, whether made by art or
\nnature, or both, is least liable to suffer change from without?<\/p>\n

True.<\/p>\n

But surely
\nGod and the things of God are in every way perfect?<\/span><\/p>\n

Of course
\nthey are.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then he can
\nhardly be compelled by external influence to take many shapes?<\/span><\/p>\n

He cannot.<\/span><\/p>\n

But may he not change and transform himself?<\/p>\n

Clearly, he said, that must be the case if he is changed at
\nall.<\/p>\n

And will he then change himself for the better and fairer,
\nor for the worse and more unsightly?<\/p>\n

If he change at all he can only change for the worse, for we
\ncannot suppose him to be deficient either in virtue or beauty.<\/p>\n

Very true, Adeimantus; but then, would any one, whether God
\nor man, desire to make himself worse?<\/p>\n

Impossible.<\/p>\n

Then it is impossible that God should ever be willing to
\nchange; being, as is supposed, the fairest and best that is conceivable, every
\nGod remains absolutely and for ever in his own form.<\/p>\n

That necessarily follows, he said, in my judgment.<\/p>\n

Then, I
\nsaid, my dear friend, let none of the poets tell us that \u2019The gods, taking the
\ndisguise of strangers from other lands, walk up and down countries in all sorts
\nof forms;\u2019 and let no one slander Proteus and Thetis, neither let any one,
\neither in tragedy or in any other kind of poetry, introduce Here disguised in
\nthe likeness of a priestess asking an alms \u2019For the life-giving daughters of
\nInachus the river of Argos;\u2019 \u2013let us have no more lies of that sort.<\/span><\/p>\n

Neither
\nmust we have mothers under the influence of the poets scaring their children
\nwith a bad version of these myths\u2013 telling how certain gods, as they say, \u2019Go
\nabout by night in the likeness of so many strangers and in divers forms;\u2019 but
\nlet them take heed lest they make cowards of their children, and at the same
\ntime speak blasphemy against the gods.<\/span><\/p>\n

Heaven forbid, he said.<\/p>\n

But although the gods are themselves unchangeable, still by
\nwitchcraft and deception they may make us think that they appear in various
\nforms?<\/p>\n

Perhaps, he replied.<\/p>\n

Well, but can you imagine that God will be willing to lie,
\nwhether in word or deed, or to put forth a phantom of himself?<\/p>\n

I cannot say, he replied.<\/p>\n

Do you not know, I said, that the true lie, if such an
\nexpression may be allowed, is hated of gods and men?<\/p>\n

What do you mean?\u00a0 he
\nsaid.<\/p>\n

I mean that no one is willingly deceived in that which is
\nthe truest and highest part of himself, or about the truest and highest
\nmatters; there, above all, he is most afraid of a lie having possession of him.<\/p>\n

Still, he said, I do not comprehend you.<\/p>\n

The reason is, I replied, that you attribute some profound
\nmeaning to my words; but I am only saying that deception, or being deceived or
\nuninformed about the highest realities in the highest part of themselves, which
\nis the soul, and in that part of them to have and to hold the lie, is what
\nmankind least like;\u2013that, I say, is what they utterly detest.<\/p>\n

There is nothing more hateful to them.<\/p>\n

And, as I was just now remarking, this ignorance in the soul
\nof him who is deceived may be called the true lie; for the lie in words is only
\na kind of imitation and shadowy image of a previous affection of the soul, not
\npure unadulterated falsehood.<\/p>\n

Am I not right?<\/p>\n

Perfectly right.<\/p>\n

The true lie is hated not only by the gods, but also by men?<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

Whereas
\nthe lie in words is in certain cases useful and not hateful; in dealing with
\nenemies\u2013that would be an instance; or again, when those whom we call our
\nfriends in a fit of madness or illusion are going to do some harm, then it is
\nuseful and is a sort of medicine or preventive; also in the tales of mythology,
\nof which we were just now speaking\u2013because we do not know the truth about\nancient
\ntimes, we make falsehood as much like truth as we can, and so turn it to
\naccount.<\/span><\/p>\n

Very true, he said.<\/p>\n

But can any of these reasons apply to God?\u00a0 Can we suppose that he is ignorant of
\nantiquity, and therefore has recourse to invention?<\/p>\n

That would be ridiculous, he said.<\/p>\n

Then the lying poet has no place in our idea of God?<\/p>\n

I should say not.<\/p>\n

Or perhaps he may tell a lie because he is afraid of
\nenemies?<\/p>\n

That is inconceivable.<\/p>\n

But he may have friends who are senseless or mad?<\/p>\n

But no mad or senseless person can be a friend of God.<\/p>\n

Then no motive can be imagined why God should lie?<\/p>\n

None whatever.<\/p>\n

Then the superhuman and divine is absolutely incapable of
\nfalsehood?<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

Then is God perfectly simple and true both in word and deed;
\nhe changes not; he deceives not, either by sign or word, by dream or waking
\nvision.<\/p>\n

Your thoughts, he said, are the reflection of my own.<\/p>\n

You agree with me then, I said, that this is the second type
\nor form in which we should write and speak about divine things.<\/p>\n

The gods are not magicians who transform themselves, neither
\ndo they deceive mankind in any way.<\/p>\n

I grant that.<\/p>\n

Then, although we are admirers of Homer, we do not admire
\nthe lying dream which Zeus sends to Agamemnon; neither will we praise the
\nverses of Aeschylus in which Thetis says that Apollo at her nuptials \u2019Was
\ncelebrating in song her fair progeny whose days were to be long, and to know no
\nsickness.<\/p>\n

And when he had spoken of my lot as in all things blessed of
\nheaven he raised a note of triumph and cheered my soul.<\/p>\n

And I thought that the word of Phoebus, being divine and
\nfull of prophecy, would not fail.<\/p>\n

And now he himself who uttered the strain, he who was
\npresent at the banquet, and who said this\u2013he it is who has slain my son.\u2019 These
\nare the kind of sentiments about the gods which will arouse our anger; and he
\nwho utters them shall be refused a chorus; neither shall we allow teachers to
\nmake use of them in the instruction of the young, meaning, as we do, that our guardians, as far as men can be,
\nshould be true worshippers of the gods and like them.<\/span><\/p>\n

I entirely agree, he said, in these principles, and promise
\nto make them my laws.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

The use of Religion in war<\/h2>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Such
\nthen, I said, are our principles of theology\u2013some tales are to be told, and
\nothers are not to be told to our disciples from their youth upwards, if we mean
\nthem to honor the gods and their parents, and to value friendship with one
\nanother.<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes;
\nand I think that our principles are right, he said.<\/span><\/p>\n

But if
\nthey are to be courageous, must they not learn other lessons besides these, and
\nlessons of such a kind as will take away the fear of death?\u00a0 Can any man be courageous who has the fear
\nof death in him?<\/span><\/p>\n

Certainly not, he said.<\/p>\n

And can
\nhe be fearless of death, or will he choose death in battle rather than defeat
\nand slavery, who believes the world below to be real and terrible?<\/span><\/p>\n

Impossible.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then we
\nmust assume a control over the narrators of this class of tales as well as over
\nthe others, and beg them not simply to revile but rather to commend the world
\nbelow, intimating to them that their descriptions are untrue, and will do harm
\nto our future warriors.<\/span><\/p>\n

That will be our duty, he said.<\/p>\n

Then, I
\nsaid, we shall have to obliterate many obnoxious passages,<\/span> beginning
\nwith the verses, \u2019I would rather be a serf on the land of a poor and
\nportionless man than rule over all the dead who have come to naught.\u2019 We must
\nalso expunge the verse, which tells us how Pluto feared, \u2019Lest the mansions
\ngrim and squalid which the gods abhor should be seen both of mortals and
\nimmortals.\u2019 And again:\u2013 \u2019O heavens! verily in the house of Hades there is soul
\nand ghostly form but no mind at all!\u2019 Again of Tiresias:\u2013 \u2019(To him even after
\ndeath did Persephone grant mind,) that he alone should be wise; but the other
\nsouls are flitting shades.\u2019 Again:\u2013 \u2019The soul flying from the limbs had gone to
\nHades, lamenting her fate, leaving manhood and youth.\u2019 Again:\u2013 \u2019And the soul,
\nwith shrilling cry, passed like smoke beneath the earth.\u2019 And,\u2013 \u2019As bats in
\nhollow of mystic cavern, whenever any of them has dropped out of the string and
\nfalls from the rock, fly shrilling and cling to one another, so did they with
\nshrilling cry hold together as they moved.\u2019 And we must beg Homer and the other
\npoets not to be angry if we strike out these and similar passages, not because
\nthey are unpoetical, or unattractive to the popular ear, but because the
\ngreater the poetical charm of them, the less are they meet for the ears of boys
\nand men who are meant to be free, and who should fear slavery more than death.<\/p>\n

Undoubtedly.<\/p>\n

Also we shall have to reject all the terrible and appalling
\nnames which describe the world below\u2013Cocytus and Styx, ghosts under the earth,
\nand sapless shades, and any similar words of which the very mention causes a
\nshudder to pass through the inmost soul of him who hears them.<\/p>\n

I do
\nnot say that these horrible stories may not have a use of some kind; but there
\nis a danger that the nerves of our guardians may be rendered too excitable and
\neffeminate by them.<\/span><\/p>\n

There is a real danger, he said.<\/p>\n

Then we
\nmust have no more of them.<\/span><\/p>\n

True.<\/p>\n

Another and a nobler strain must be composed and sung by us.<\/p>\n

Clearly.<\/p>\n

And shall we proceed to get rid of the weepings and wailings
\nof famous men?<\/p>\n

They will go with the rest.<\/p>\n

But
\nshall we be right in getting rid of them?
\nReflect: our principle is that the good man will not consider death
\nterrible to any other good man who is his comrade.<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes; that is our principle.<\/p>\n

And
\ntherefore he will not sorrow for his departed friend as though he had suffered
\nanything terrible?<\/span><\/p>\n

He will
\nnot.<\/span><\/p>\n

Such an one, as we further maintain, is sufficient for
\nhimself and his own happiness, and therefore is least in need of other men.<\/p>\n

True, he said.<\/p>\n

And for this reason the loss of a son or brother, or the
\ndeprivation of fortune, is to him of all men least terrible.<\/p>\n

Assuredly.<\/p>\n

And therefore he will be least likely to lament, and will
\nbear with the greatest equanimity any misfortune of this sort which may befall
\nhim.<\/p>\n

Yes, he will feel such a misfortune far less than another.<\/p>\n

Then we shall be right in getting rid of the lamentations of
\nfamous men, and making them over to women (and not even to women who are good
\nfor anything), or to men of a baser sort, that\nthose who are being educated by us to be the
\ndefenders of their country may scorn to do the like.<\/span><\/p>\n

That will be very right.<\/p>\n

Then we will once more entreat Homer and the other poets not
\nto depict Achilles, who is the son of a goddess, first lying on his side, then
\non his back, and then on his face; then starting up and sailing in a frenzy
\nalong the shores of the barren sea; now taking the sooty ashes in both his
\nhands and pouring them over his head, or weeping and wailing in the various
\nmodes which Homer has delineated.<\/p>\n

Nor should he describe Priam the kinsman of the gods as
\npraying and beseeching, \u2019Rolling in the dirt, calling each man loudly by his
\nname.\u2019 Still more earnestly will we beg of him at all events not to introduce
\nthe gods lamenting and saying, \u2019Alas! my misery! Alas! that I bore the bravest
\nto my sorrow.\u2019 But if he must introduce the gods, at any rate let him not dare
\nso completely to misrepresent the greatest of the gods, as to make him say\u2013 \u2019O
\nheavens! with my eyes verily I behold a dear friend of mine chased round and
\nround the city, and my heart is sorrowful.\u2019 Or again:\u2013 Woe is me that I am
\nfated to have Sarpedon, dearest of men to me, subdued at the hands of Patroclus
\nthe son of Menoetius.\u2019 For if, my sweet Adeimantus, our youth seriously listen
\nto such unworthy representations of the gods, instead of laughing at them as
\nthey ought, hardly will any of them deem that he himself, being but a man, can
\nbe dishonored by similar actions; neither will he rebuke any inclination which
\nmay arise in his mind to say and do the like.<\/p>\n

And instead of having any shame or self-control, he will be
\nalways whining and lamenting on slight occasions.<\/p>\n

Yes, he said, that is most true.<\/p>\n

Yes, I replied; but that surely is what ought not to be, as
\nthe argument has just proved to us; and by that proof we must abide until it is
\ndisproved by a better.<\/p>\n

It ought not to be.<\/p>\n

Neither
\nought our guardians to be given to laughter.<\/span><\/p>\n

For a
\nfit of laughter which has been indulged to excess almost always produces a
\nviolent reaction.<\/span><\/p>\n

So I believe.<\/p>\n

Then persons of worth, even if only mortal men, must not be
\nrepresented as overcome by laughter, and still less must such a representation
\nof the gods be allowed.<\/p>\n

Still less of the gods, as you say, he replied.<\/p>\n

Then we shall not suffer such an expression to be used about
\nthe gods as that of Homer when he describes how \u2019Inextinguishable laughter
\narose among the blessed gods, when they saw Hephaestus bustling about the
\nmansion.\u2019 On your views,
\nwe must not admit them.<\/span><\/p>\n

On my
\nviews, if you like to father them on me; that we must not admit them is
\ncertain.<\/span><\/p>\n

Again, truth should be highly valued; if, as we were saying,
\na lie is useless to the gods, and useful only as a medicine to men, then the
\nuse of such medicines should be restricted to physicians; private individuals
\nhave no business with them.<\/p>\n

Clearly not, he said.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

He discusses the role of the lie, the fact that politicians are not just
\nallowed to lie they are expected to lie, and non-politicians are to be
\nconsidered to be traitors if they lie.<\/h2>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Then if any
\none at all is to have the privilege of lying, the rulers of the nation should
\nbe the persons; and they, in their dealings either with enemies or with their
\nown citizens, may be allowed to lie for the public good.<\/span><\/p>\n

But nobody else should meddle with anything of the kind; and
\nalthough the rulers have this privilege, for a private man to lie to them in
\nreturn is to be deemed a more heinous fault than for the patient or the pupil
\nof a gymnasium not to speak the truth about his own bodily illnesses to the
\nphysician or to the trainer, or for a sailor not to tell the captain what is
\nhappening about the ship and the rest of the crew, and how things are going
\nwith himself or his fellow sailors.<\/p>\n

Most true, he said.<\/p>\n

If, then,
\nthe ruler catches anybody beside himself lying in the nation, \u2019Any of the
\ncraftsmen, whether he be priest or physician or carpenter,\u2019 he will punish him
\nfor introducing a practice which is equally subversive and destructive of ship
\nor nation.<\/span><\/p>\n

Most certainly, he said, if our idea of the nation is ever
\ncarried out.<\/p>\n

In the next place our youth must be temperate?<\/p>\n

Certainly.<\/p>\n

Are not the chief elements of temperance, speaking\ngenerally,
\nobedience to commanders and self-control in sensual pleasures?<\/p>\n

True.<\/p>\n

Then we
\nshall approve such language as that of Diomede in Homer, \u2019Friend, sit still and
\nobey my word,\u2019 and the verses which follow, \u2019The Greeks marched breathing
\nprowess, ...in silent awe of their leaders,\u2019 and other sentiments of the same
\nkind.<\/span><\/p>\n

We shall.<\/span><\/p>\n

What of this line, \u2019O heavy with wine, who hast the eyes of
\na dog and the heart of a stag,\u2019 and of the words which follow?\u00a0 Would you say that these, or any similar
\nimpertinences which private individuals are supposed to address to their
\nrulers, whether in verse or prose, are well or ill spoken?<\/p>\n

They are ill spoken.<\/p>\n

They may very possibly afford some amusement, but they do
\nnot conduce to temperance.<\/p>\n

And
\ntherefore they are likely to do harm to our young men\u2013you would agree with me
\nthere?<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

And then, again, to make the wisest of men say that nothing
\nin his opinion is more glorious than \u2019When the tables are full of bread and
\nmeat, and the cup-bearer carries round wine which he draws from the bowl and
\npours into the cups,\u2019 is it fit or conducive to temperance for a young man to
\nhear such words?\u00a0 Or the verse \u2019The
\nsaddest of fates is to die and meet destiny from hunger?\u2019 What would you say
\nagain to the tale of Zeus, who, while other gods and men were asleep and he the
\nonly person awake, lay devising plans, but forgot them all in a moment through
\nhis lust, and was so completely overcome at the sight of Here that he would not
\neven go into the hut, but wanted to lie with her on the ground, declaring that
\nhe had never been in such a nation of rapture before, even when they first met
\none another \u2019Without the knowledge of their parents;\u2019 or that other tale of how
\nHephaestus, because of similar goings on, cast a chain around Ares and\nAphrodite?<\/p>\n

Indeed,
\nhe said, I am strongly of opinion that they ought not to hear that sort of
\nthing.<\/span><\/p>\n

But any
\ndeeds of endurance which are done or told by famous men, these they ought to
\nsee and hear; as, for example, what is said in the verses, \u2019He smote his\nbreast,
\nand thus reproached his heart, Endure, my heart; far worse hast thou endured!\u2019
\nCertainly, he said.<\/span><\/p>\n

In the next place, we must not let them be receivers of
\ngifts or lovers of money.<\/p>\n

Certainly not.<\/p>\n

Neither must we sing to them of \u2019Gifts persuading gods, and
\npersuading reverend kings.\u2019 Neither is Phoenix, the tutor of Achilles, to be
\napproved or deemed to have given his pupil good counsel when he told him that
\nhe should take the gifts of the Greeks and assist them; but that without a gift
\nhe should not lay aside his anger.<\/p>\n

Neither will we believe or acknowledge Achilles himself to
\nhave been such a lover of money that he took Agamemnon\u2019s gifts, or that when he
\nhad received payment he restored the dead body of Hector, but that without
\npayment he was unwilling to do so.<\/p>\n

Undoubtedly,
\nhe said, these are not sentiments which can be approved.<\/span><\/p>\n

Loving Homer as I do, I hardly like to say that in
\nattributing these feelings to Achilles, or in believing that they are truly
\nattributed to him, he is guilty of downright impiety.<\/p>\n

As little can I believe the narrative of his insolence to
\nApollo, where he says, \u2019Thou hast wronged me, O far-darter, most abominable of
\ndeities.<\/p>\n

Verily I would be even with thee, if I had only the power;\u2019
\nor his insubordination to the river-god, on whose divinity he is ready to lay
\nhands; or his offering to the dead Patroclus of his own hair, which had been
\npreviously dedicated to the other river-god Spercheius, and that he actually
\nperformed this vow; or that he dragged Hector round the tomb of Patroclus, and
\nslaughtered the captives at the pyre; of all this I cannot believe that he was
\nguilty, any more than I can allow our citizens to believe that he, the wise
\nCheiron\u2019s pupil, the son of a goddess and of Peleus who was the gentlest of men
\nand third in descent from Zeus, was so disordered in his wits as to be at one
\ntime the slave of two seemingly inconsistent passions, meanness, not untainted
\nby avarice, combined with overweening contempt of gods and men.<\/p>\n

You are quite right, he replied.<\/p>\n

And let us equally refuse to believe, or allow to be
\nrepeated, the tale of Theseus son of Poseidon, or of Peirithous son of Zeus,
\ngoing forth as they did to perpetrate a horrid rape; or of any other hero or
\nson of a god daring to do such impious and dreadful things as they falsely
\nascribe to them in our day: and let us further compel the poets to declare
\neither that these acts were not done by them, or that they were not the sons of
\ngods;\u2013both in the same breath they shall not be permitted to affirm.<\/p>\n

We will not
\nhave them trying to persuade our youth that the gods are the authors of evil,
\nand that heroes are no better than men\u2013sentiments which, as we were saying, are
\nneither pious nor true, for we have already proved that evil cannot come from
\nthe gods.<\/span><\/p>\n

Assuredly not.<\/p>\n

And further they are likely to have a bad effect on those
\nwho hear them; for everybody will begin to excuse his own vices when he is
\nconvinced that similar wickedness are always being perpetrated by\u2013 \u2019The
\nkindred of the gods, the relatives of Zeus, whose ancestral altar, the altar of
\nZeus, is aloft in air on the peak of Ida,\u2019 and who have \u2019the blood of deities
\nyet flowing in their veins.\u2019 And therefore let us put an end to such tales,
\nlest they engender laxity of morals among the young.<\/p>\n

By all means, he replied.<\/p>\n

But now
\nthat we are determining what classes of subjects are or are not to be spoken
\nof, let us see whether any have been omitted by us.<\/span><\/p>\n

The manner in which gods and demigods and heroes and the
\nworld below should be treated has been already laid down.<\/p>\n

Very true.<\/p>\n

And what shall we say about men?\u00a0 That is clearly the remaining portion of our subject.<\/p>\n

Clearly so.<\/p>\n

But we are not in a condition to answer this question at
\npresent, my friend.<\/p>\n

Why not?<\/p>\n

Because, if I am not mistaken, we shall have to say that\nabout
\nmen poets and story-tellers are guilty of making the gravest misstatements when
\nthey tell us that wicked men are often happy, and the good miserable; and that
\ninjustice is profitable when undetected, but that justice is a man\u2019s own loss
\nand another\u2019s gain\u2013these things we shall forbid them to utter, and command them
\nto sing and say the opposite.<\/p>\n

To be sure we shall, he replied.<\/p>\n

But if you admit that I am right in this, then I shall
\nmaintain that you have implied the principle for which we have been all along
\ncontending.<\/p>\n

I grant the truth of your inference.<\/p>\n

That such things are or are not to be said about men is a
\nquestion which we cannot determine until we have discovered what justice is,
\nand how naturally advantageous to the possessor, whether he seem to be just or
\nnot.<\/p>\n

Most true, he said.<\/p>\n

Enough
\nof the subjects of poetry: let us now speak of the style; and when this has
\nbeen considered, both matter and manner will have been completely treated.<\/span><\/p>\n

I do not understand what you mean, said Adeimantus.<\/p>\n

Then I must make you understand; and perhaps I may be more
\nintelligible if I put the matter in this way.<\/p>\n

You are aware, I suppose, that all mythology and poetry is a
\nnarration of events, either past, present, or to come?<\/p>\n

Certainly, he replied.<\/p>\n

And narration may be either simple narration, or imitation,
\nor a union of the two?<\/p>\n

That again, he said, I do not quite understand.<\/p>\n

I fear that I must be a ridiculous teacher when I have so
\nmuch difficulty in making myself apprehended.<\/p>\n

Like a bad speaker, therefore, I will not take the whole of
\nthe subject, but will break a piece off in illustration of my meaning.<\/p>\n

You know the first lines of the Iliad, in which the poet
\nsays that Chryses prayed Agamemnon to release his daughter, and that Agamemnon
\nflew into a passion with him; whereupon Chryses, failing of his object, invoked
\nthe anger of the God against the Achaeans.<\/p>\n

Now as far as these lines, \u2019And he prayed all the Greeks,
\nbut especially the two sons of Atreus, the chiefs of the people,\u2019 the poet is
\nspeaking in his own person; he never leads us to suppose that he is any one
\nelse.<\/p>\n

But in what follows he takes the person of Chryses, and then
\nhe does all that he can to make us believe that the speaker is not Homer, but
\nthe aged priest himself.<\/p>\n

And in this double form he has cast the entire narrative of
\nthe events which occurred at Troy and in Ithaca and throughout the Odyssey.<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

And a narrative it remains both in the speeches which the
\npoet recites from time to time and in the intermediate passages?<\/p>\n

Quite true.<\/p>\n

But when the poet speaks in the person of another, may we
\nnot say that he assimilates his style to that of the person who, as he informs
\nyou, is going to speak?<\/p>\n

Certainly.<\/p>\n

And this assimilation of himself to another, either by the
\nuse of voice or gesture, is the imitation of the person whose character he
\nassumes?<\/p>\n

Of course.<\/p>\n

Then in this case the narrative of the poet may be said to
\nproceed by way of imitation?<\/p>\n

Very true.<\/p>\n

Or, if the poet everywhere appears and never conceals
\nhimself, then again the imitation is dropped, and his poetry becomes simple
\nnarration.<\/p>\n

However, in order that I may make my meaning quite clear,
\nand that you may no more say, \u2019I don\u2019t understand,\u2019 I will show how the change
\nmight be effected.<\/p>\n

If Homer had said, \u2019The priest came, having his daughter\u2019s
\nransom in his hands, supplicating the Achaeans, and above all the kings;\u2019 and
\nthen if, instead of speaking in the person of Chryses, he had continued in his
\nown person, the words would have been, not imitation, but simple narration.<\/p>\n

The passage would have run as follows (I am no poet, and
\ntherefore I drop the metre), \u2019The priest came and prayed the gods on behalf of
\nthe Greeks that they might capture Troy and return safely home, but begged that
\nthey would give him back his daughter, and take the ransom which he brought,
\nand respect the God.<\/p>\n

Thus he spoke, and the other Greeks revered the priest and
\nassented.<\/p>\n

But Agamemnon was wroth, and bade him depart and not come
\nagain, lest the staff and chaplets of the God should be of no avail to him\u2013the
\ndaughter of Chryses should not be released, he said\u2013she should grow old with
\nhim in Argos.<\/p>\n

And then he told him to go away and not to provoke him, if
\nhe intended to get home unscathed.<\/p>\n

And the old man went away in fear and silence, and, when he
\nhad left the camp, he called upon Apollo by his many names, reminding him of
\neverything which he had done pleasing to him, whether in building his temples,
\nor in offering sacrifice, and praying that his good deeds might be returned to
\nhim, and that the Achaeans might expiate his tears by the arrows of the
\ngod,\u2019\u2013and so on.<\/p>\n

In this way the whole becomes simple narrative.<\/p>\n

I understand, he said.<\/p>\n

Or you may suppose the opposite case\u2013that the intermediate
\npassages are omitted, and the dialogue only left.<\/p>\n

That also, he said, I understand; you mean, for example, as
\nin tragedy.<\/p>\n

You have conceived my meaning perfectly; and if I mistake
\nnot, what you failed to apprehend before is now made clear to you, that poetry
\nand mythology are, in some cases, wholly imitative\u2013instances of this are
\nsupplied by tragedy and comedy; there is likewise the opposite style, in which
\nthe poet is the only speaker\u2013of this the dithyramb affords the best example;
\nand the combination of both is found in epic, and in several other styles of
\npoetry.<\/p>\n

Do I take you with me?<\/p>\n

Yes, he said; I see now what you meant.<\/p>\n

I will
\nask you to remember also what I began by saying, that we had done with the
\nsubject and might proceed to the style.<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes, I remember.<\/p>\n

In saying this, I intended to imply that we must come to an
\nunderstanding about the mimetic art,\u2013whether the poets, in narrating their
\nstories, are to be allowed by us to imitate, and if so, whether in whole or in
\npart, and if the latter, in what parts; or should all imitation be prohibited?<\/p>\n

You mean, I suspect, to ask whether tragedy and comedy shall
\nbe admitted into our nation?<\/p>\n

Yes, I said; but there may be more than this in question: I
\nreally do not know as yet, but whither the argument may blow, thither we go.<\/p>\n

And go we will, he said.<\/p>\n

Then, Adeimantus, let me ask you whether our guardians ought
\nto be imitators; or rather, has not this question been decided by the rule
\nalready laid down that one man can only do one thing well, and not many; and
\nthat if he attempt many, he will altogether fail of gaining much reputation in
\nany?<\/p>\n

Certainly.<\/p>\n

And this is equally true of imitation; no one man can
\nimitate many things as well as he would imitate a single one?<\/p>\n

He cannot.<\/p>\n

Then the same person will hardly be able to play a serious
\npart in life, and at the same time to be an imitator and imitate many other
\nparts as well; for even when two species of imitation are nearly allied, the
\nsame persons cannot succeed in both, as, for example, the writers of tragedy
\nand comedy\u2013did you not just now call them imitations?<\/p>\n

Yes, I did; and you are right in thinking that the same
\npersons cannot succeed in both.<\/p>\n

Any more than they can be rhapsodists and actors at once?<\/p>\n

True.<\/p>\n

Neither are comic and tragic actors the same; yet all these
\nthings are but imitations.<\/p>\n

They are so.<\/p>\n

And human nature, Adeimantus, appears to have been coined
\ninto yet smaller pieces, and to be as incapable of imitating many things well,
\nas of performing well the actions of which the imitations are copies.<\/p>\n

Quite true, he replied.<\/p>\n

If then
\nwe adhere to our original notion and bear in mind that our guardians, setting
\naside every other business, are to dedicate themselves wholly to the
\nmaintenance of freedom in the nation, making this their craft, and engaging in
\nno work which does not bear on this end, they ought not to practice or imitate
\nanything else; if they imitate at all, they should imitate from youth upward
\nonly those characters which are suitable to their profession\u2013the courageous,
\ntemperate, holy, free, and the like; but they should not depict or be skilful
\nat imitating any kind of illiberality or baseness, lest from imitation they
\nshould come to be what they imitate.<\/span><\/p>\n

Did you never observe how imitations, beginning in early
\nyouth and continuing far into life, at length grow into habits and become a
\nsecond nature, affecting body, voice, and mind?<\/p>\n

Yes, certainly, he said.<\/p>\n

Then, I said, we will not allow those for whom we profess a
\ncare and of whom we say that they ought to be good men, to imitate a woman,
\nwhether young or old, quarrelling with her husband, or striving and vaunting
\nagainst the gods in conceit of her happiness, or when she is in affliction, or
\nsorrow, or weeping; and certainly not one who is in sickness, love, or labor.<\/p>\n

Very right, he said.<\/p>\n

Neither must they represent slaves, male or female,
\nperforming the offices of slaves?<\/p>\n

They must not.<\/p>\n

And surely not bad men, whether cowards or any others, who
\ndo the reverse of what we have just been prescribing, who scold or mock or
\nrevile one another in drink or out of drink, or who in any other manner sin
\nagainst themselves and their neighbors in word or deed, as the manner of such
\nis.<\/p>\n

Neither should they be trained to imitate the action or
\nspeech of men or women who are mad or bad; for madness, like vice, is to be
\nknown but not to be practiced or imitated.<\/p>\n

Very true, he replied.<\/p>\n

Neither may they imitate smiths or other artificers, or
\noarsmen, or boatswains, or the like?<\/p>\n

How can they, he said, when they are not allowed to apply
\ntheir minds to the callings of any of these?<\/p>\n

Nor may they imitate the neighing of horses, the bellowing
\nof bulls, the murmur of rivers and roll of the ocean, thunder, and all that
\nsort of thing?<\/p>\n

Nay, he said, if madness be forbidden, neither may they copy
\nthe behavior of madmen.<\/p>\n

You mean, I said, if I understand you aright, that there is
\none sort of narrative style which may be employed by a truly good man when he
\nhas anything to say, and that another sort will be used by a man of an opposite
\ncharacter and education.<\/p>\n

And which are these two sorts?\u00a0 he asked.<\/p>\n

Suppose, I answered, that a just and good man in the course
\nof a narration comes on some saying or action of another good man,\u2013I should
\nimagine that he will like to personate him, and will not be ashamed of this
\nsort of imitation: he will be most ready to play the part of the good man when
\nhe is acting firmly and wisely; in a less degree when he is overtaken by
\nillness or love or drink, or has met with any other disaster.<\/p>\n

But when he comes to a character which is unworthy of him,
\nhe will not make a study of that; he will disdain such a person, and will
\nassume his likeness, if at all, for a moment only when he is performing some
\ngood action; at other times he will be ashamed to play a part which he has
\nnever practiced, nor will he like to fashion and frame himself after the baser
\nmodels; he feels the employment of such an art, unless in jest, to be beneath
\nhim, and his mind revolts at it.<\/p>\n

So I should expect, he replied.<\/p>\n

Then he will adopt a mode of narration such as we have
\nillustrated out of Homer, that is to say, his style will be both imitative and
\nnarrative; but there will be very little of the former, and a great deal of the
\nlatter.<\/p>\n

Do you agree?<\/p>\n

Certainly, he said; that is the model which such a speaker
\nmust necessarily take.<\/p>\n

But there is another sort of character who will narrate
\nanything, and, the worse he is, the more unscrupulous he will be; nothing will
\nbe too bad for him: and he will be ready to imitate anything, not as a joke,
\nbut in right good earnest, and before a large company.<\/p>\n

As I was just now saying, he will attempt to represent the
\nroll of thunder, the noise of wind and hail, or the creaking of wheels, and
\npulleys, and the various sounds of flutes, pipes, trumpets, and all sorts of
\ninstruments: he will bark like a dog, bleat like a sheep, or crow like a cock;
\nhis entire art will consist in imitation of voice and gesture, and there will
\nbe very little narration.<\/p>\n

That, he said, will be his mode of speaking.<\/p>\n

These, then, are the two kinds of style?<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

And you would agree with me in saying that one of them is
\nsimple and has but slight changes; and if the harmony and rhythm are also
\nchosen for their simplicity, the result is that the speaker, if he speaks
\ncorrectly, is always pretty much the same in style, and he will keep within the
\nlimits of a single harmony (for the changes are not great), and in like manner
\nhe will make use of nearly the same rhythm?<\/p>\n

That is quite true, he said.<\/p>\n

Whereas the other requires all sorts of harmonies and all
\nsorts of rhythms, if the music and the style are to correspond, because the
\nstyle has all sorts of changes.<\/p>\n

That is also perfectly true, he replied.<\/p>\n

And do not the two styles, or the mixture of the two,
\ncomprehend all poetry, and every form of expression in words?\u00a0 No one can say anything except in one or
\nother of them or in both together.<\/p>\n

They include all, he said.<\/p>\n

And
\nshall we receive into our nation all the three styles, or one only of the two
\nunmixed styles?\u00a0 or would you include
\nthe mixed?<\/span><\/p>\n

I
\nshould prefer only to admit the pure imitator of virtue.<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes, I said, Adeimantus, but the mixed style is also very
\ncharming: and indeed the pantomimic, which is the opposite of the one chosen by
\nyou, is the most popular style with children and their attendants, and with the
\nworld in general.<\/p>\n

I do not deny it.<\/p>\n

But I suppose you would argue that such a style is
\nunsuitable to our nation, in which human nature is not twofold or manifold, for
\none man plays one part only?<\/p>\n

Yes; quite unsuitable.<\/p>\n

And this is the reason why in our nation, and in our nation
\nonly, we shall find a shoemaker to be a shoemaker and not a pilot also, and a
\nhusbandman to be a husbandman and not a dicast also, and a soldier a soldier
\nand not a trader also, and the same throughout?<\/p>\n

True, he said.<\/p>\n

And
\ntherefore when any one of these pantomimic gentlemen, who are so clever that
\nthey can imitate anything, comes to us, and makes a proposal to exhibit himself
\nand his poetry, we will fall down and worship him as a sweet and holy and
\nwonderful being; but we must also inform him that in our nation such as he are
\nnot permitted to exist; the law will not allow them.<\/span><\/p>\n

And so when we have anointed him with myrrh, and set a
\ngarland of wool upon his head, we shall send him away to another country.<\/p>\n

For we mean to employ for our souls\u2019 health the rougher and
\nseverer poet or story-teller, who will imitate the style of the virtuous only,
\nand will follow those models which we prescribed at first when we began the
\neducation of our soldiers.<\/p>\n

We certainly will, he said, if we have the power.<\/p>\n

Then now, my friend, I said, that part of music or literary
\neducation which relates to the story or myth may be considered to be finished;
\nfor the matter and manner have both been discussed.<\/p>\n

I think so too, he said.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Now he discusses how music needs to be constructed, to make the nation good
\nat war:<\/h2>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Next in
\norder will follow melody and song.<\/span><\/p>\n

That is obvious.<\/p>\n

Every
\none can see already what we ought to say about them, if we are to be consistent
\nwith ourselves.<\/span><\/p>\n

I fear, said Glaucon, laughing, that the word \u2019every one\u2019
\nhardly includes me, for I cannot at the moment say what they should be; though
\nI may guess.<\/p>\n

At any rate you can tell that a song or ode has three
\nparts\u2013the words, the melody, and the rhythm; that degree of knowledge I may
\npresuppose?<\/p>\n

Yes, he said; so much as that you may.<\/p>\n

And as
\nfor the words, there will surely be no difference between words which are and
\nwhich are not set to music; both will conform to the same laws, and these have
\nbeen already determined by us?<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

And the melody and rhythm will depend upon the words?<\/p>\n

Certainly.<\/p>\n

We were
\nsaying, when we spoke of the subject-matter, that we had no need of lamentation
\nand strains of sorrow?<\/span><\/p>\n

True.<\/p>\n

And which are the harmonies expressive of sorrow?\u00a0 You are musical, and can tell me.<\/p>\n

The harmonies which you mean are the mixed or tenor Lydian,
\nand the fulltoned or bass Lydian, and such like.<\/p>\n

These then, I said, must be banished; even to women who have
\na character to maintain they are of no use, and much less to men.<\/p>\n

Certainly.<\/p>\n

In the next place, drunkenness and softness and indolence
\nare utterly unbecoming the character of our guardians.<\/p>\n

Utterly unbecoming.<\/p>\n

And which are the soft or drinking harmonies?<\/p>\n

The Ionian, he replied, and the Lydian; they are termed
\n\u2019relaxed.\u2019 Well, and are
\nthese of any military use?<\/span><\/p>\n

Quite
\nthe reverse, he replied; and if so the Dorian and the Phrygian are the only
\nones which you have left.<\/span><\/p>\n

I answered: Of the harmonies\nI know nothing, but I want to have one warlike, to
\nsound the note or accent which a brave man utters in the hour of danger and
\nstern resolve, or when his cause is failing, and he is going to wounds or death<\/span>
\nor is overtaken by some other evil, and at every such crisis meets the blows of
\nfortune with firm step and a determination to endure; and another to be used by him in times of peace
\nand freedom of action,<\/span> when there is no pressure of necessity, and he is
\nseeking to persuade God by prayer, or man by instruction and admonition, or on
\nthe other hand, when he is expressing his willingness to yield to persuasion or
\nentreaty or admonition, and which represents him when by prudent conduct he has
\nattained his end, not carried away by his success, but acting moderately and
\nwisely under the circumstances, and acquiescing in the event.<\/p>\n

These two harmonies I ask you to leave; the strain of
\nnecessity and the strain of freedom, the strain of the unfortunate and the
\nstrain of the fortunate, the strain of courage, and the strain of temperance;
\nthese, I say, leave.<\/p>\n

And these, he replied, are the Dorian and Phrygian harmonies
\nof which I was just now speaking.<\/p>\n

Then, I
\nsaid, if these and these only are to be used in our songs and melodies, we
\nshall not want multiplicity of notes or a panharmonic scale?<\/span><\/p>\n

I suppose not.<\/p>\n

Then we shall not maintain the artificers of lyres with
\nthree corners and complex scales, or the makers of any other many-stringed
\ncuriously- harmonized instruments?<\/p>\n

Certainly not.<\/p>\n

But what do you say to flute-makers and flute-players?\u00a0 Would you admit them into our nation when
\nyou reflect that in this composite use of harmony the flute is worse than all
\nthe stringed instruments put together; even the panharmonic music is only an\nimitation
\nof the flute?<\/p>\n

Clearly not.<\/p>\n

There remain then only the lyre and the harp for use in the
\ncity, and the shepherds may have a pipe in the country.<\/p>\n

That is surely the conclusion to be drawn from the argument.<\/p>\n

The preferring of Apollo and his instruments to Marsyas and
\nhis instruments is not at all strange, I said.<\/p>\n

Not at all, he replied.<\/p>\n

And so,
\nby the dog of Egypt, we have been unconsciously purging the nation, which not
\nlong ago we termed luxurious.<\/span><\/p>\n

And we have done wisely, he replied.<\/p>\n

Then let us now finish the purgation, I said.<\/p>\n

Next in order to harmonies, rhythms will naturally follow,
\nand they should be subject to the same rules, for we ought not to seek out
\ncomplex systems of metre, or metres of every kind, but rather to discover what
\nrhythms are the expressions of a courageous and harmonious life; and when we
\nhave found them, we shall adapt the foot and the melody to words having a like
\nspirit, not the words to the foot and melody.<\/p>\n

To say what these rhythms are will be your duty\u2013you must
\nteach me them, as you have already taught me the harmonies.<\/p>\n

But, indeed, he replied, I cannot tell you.<\/p>\n

I only know that there are some three principles of rhythm
\nout of which metrical systems are framed, just as in sounds there are four
\nnotes (i.e. the four notes of the chord.) out of which all the harmonies are
\ncomposed; that is an observation which I have made.<\/p>\n

But of what sort of lives they are severally the imitations
\nI am unable to say.<\/p>\n

Then, I said, we must take Damon into our counsels; and he
\nwill tell us what rhythms are expressive of meanness, or insolence, or fury, or
\nother unworthiness, and what are to be reserved for the expression of opposite
\nfeelings.<\/p>\n

And I think that I have an indistinct recollection of his
\nmentioning a complex Cretic rhythm; also a dactylic or heroic, and he arranged
\nthem in some manner which I do not quite understand, making the rhythms equal
\nin the rise and fall of the foot, long and short alternating; and, unless I am
\nmistaken, he spoke of an iambic as well as of a trochaic rhythm, and assigned
\nto them short and long quantities.<\/p>\n

Also in some cases he appeared to praise or censure the
\nmovement of the foot quite as much as the rhythm; or perhaps a combination of
\nthe two; for I am not certain what he meant.<\/p>\n

These matters, however, as I was saying, had better be
\nreferred to Damon himself, for the analysis of the subject would be difficult,
\nyou know?\u00a0 (Socrates expresses himself
\ncarelessly in accordance with his assumed ignorance of the details of the
\nsubject.<\/p>\n

In the first part of the sentence he appears to be speaking
\nof paeonic rhythms which are in the ratio of 3\/2; in the second part, of
\ndactylic and anapaestic rhythms, which are in the ratio of 1\/1; in the last
\nclause, of iambic and trochaic rhythms, which are in the ratio of 1\/2 or 2\/1.)
\nRather so, I should say.<\/p>\n

But there is no difficulty in seeing that grace or the
\nabsence of grace is an effect of good or bad rhythm.<\/p>\n

None at all.<\/p>\n

And also that good and bad rhythm naturally assimilate to a
\ngood and bad style; and that harmony and discord in like manner follow style;
\nfor our principle is that rhythm and harmony are regulated by the words, and
\nnot the words by them.<\/p>\n

Just so, he said, they should follow the words.<\/p>\n

And will not the words and the character of the style depend
\non the temper of the soul?<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

And everything else on the style?<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

Then beauty of style and harmony and grace and good rhythm
\ndepend on simplicity,\u2013I mean the true simplicity of a rightly and nobly ordered
\nmind and character, not that other simplicity which is only an euphemism for
\nfolly?<\/p>\n

Very true, he replied.<\/p>\n

And if
\nour youth are to do their work in life, must they not make these graces and
\nharmonies their perpetual aim?<\/span><\/p>\n

They must.<\/p>\n

And surely the art of the painter and every other creative
\nand constructive art are full of them,\u2013weaving, embroidery, architecture, and
\nevery kind of manufacture; also nature, animal and vegetable,\u2013in all of them
\nthere is grace or the absence of grace.<\/p>\n

And ugliness and discord and inharmonious motion are nearly
\nallied to ill words and ill nature, as grace and harmony are the twin sisters
\nof goodness and virtue and bear their likeness.<\/p>\n

That is quite true, he said.<\/p>\n

But shall our superintendence go no further, and are the
\npoets only to be required by us to express the image of the good in their
\nworks, on pain, if they do anything else, of expulsion from our nation?\u00a0 Or is the same control to be extended to
\nother artists, and are they also to be prohibited from exhibiting the opposite
\nforms of vice and intemperance and meanness and indecency in sculpture and
\nbuilding and the other creative arts; and is he who cannot conform to this rule
\nof ours to be prevented from practising his art in our nation, lest the taste
\nof our citizens be corrupted by him?\u00a0 We
\nwould not have our guardians grow up amid images of moral deformity, as in some
\nnoxious pasture, and there browse and feed upon many a baneful herb and flower
\nday by day, little by little, until they silently gather a festering mass of
\ncorruption in their own soul.<\/p>\n

Let our artists rather be those who are gifted to discern
\nthe true nature of the beautiful and graceful; then will our youth dwell in a
\nland of health, amid fair sights and sounds, and receive the good in
\neverything; and beauty, the effluence of fair works, shall flow into the eye
\nand ear, like a health-giving breeze from a purer region, and insensibly draw
\nthe soul from earliest years into likeness and sympathy with the beauty of
\nreason.<\/p>\n

There can be no nobler training than that, he replied.<\/p>\n

And
\ntherefore, I said, Glaucon, musical training is a more potent instrument than
\nany other, because rhythm and harmony find their way into the inward places of
\nthe soul,<\/span> on which they mightily fasten, imparting grace, and making the
\nsoul of him who is rightly educated graceful, or of him who is ill-educated
\nungraceful; and also because he who has received this true education of the
\ninner being will most shrewdly perceive omissions or faults in art and nature,
\nand with a true taste, while he praises and rejoices over and receives into his
\nsoul the good, and becomes noble and good, he will justly blame and hate the
\nbad, now in the days of his youth, even before he is able to know the reason
\nwhy; and when reason comes he will recognise and salute the friend with whom
\nhis education has made him long familiar.<\/p>\n

Yes, he
\nsaid, I quite agree with you in thinking that our youth should be trained in
\nmusic and on the grounds which you mention.<\/span><\/p>\n

Just as in learning to read, I said, we were satisfied when
\nwe knew the letters of the alphabet, which are very few, in all their recurring
\nsizes and combinations; not slighting them as unimportant whether they occupy a
\nspace large or small, but everywhere eager to make them out; and not thinking
\nourselves perfect in the art of reading until we recognise them wherever they\nare
\nfound: True\u2013 Or, as we recognise the reflection of letters in the water, or in
\na mirror, only when we know the letters themselves; the same art and study
\ngiving us the knowledge of both: Exactly\u2013 Even so, as I maintain, neither we nor our guardians,
\nwhom we have to educate, can ever become musical until we and they know the
\nessential forms of temperance, courage, liberality, magnificence<\/span>, and
\ntheir kindred, as well as the contrary forms, in all their combinations, and
\ncan recognise them and their images wherever they are found, not slighting them
\neither in small things or great, but believing them all to be within the sphere
\nof one art and study.<\/p>\n

Most assuredly.<\/p>\n

And when a beautiful soul harmonizes with a beautiful form,
\nand the two are cast in one mould, that will be the fairest of sights to him
\nwho has an eye to see it?<\/p>\n

The fairest indeed.<\/p>\n

And the fairest is also the loveliest?<\/p>\n

That may be assumed.<\/p>\n

And the man who has the spirit of harmony will be most in
\nlove with the loveliest; but he will not love him who is of an inharmonious
\nsoul?<\/p>\n

That is true, he replied, if the deficiency be in his soul;
\nbut if there be any merely bodily defect in another he will be patient of it,
\nand will love all the same.<\/p>\n

I perceive, I said, that you have or have had experiences of
\nthis sort, and I agree.<\/p>\n

But let me ask you another question: Has excess of pleasure
\nany affinity to temperance?<\/p>\n

How can that be?\u00a0 he
\nreplied; pleasure deprives a man of the use of his faculties quite as much as
\npain.<\/p>\n

Or any affinity to virtue in general?<\/p>\n

None whatever.<\/p>\n

Any affinity to wantonness and intemperance?<\/p>\n

Yes, the greatest.<\/p>\n

And is there any greater or keener pleasure than that of
\nsensual love?<\/p>\n

No, nor a madder.<\/p>\n

Whereas true love is a love of beauty and order\u2013temperate
\nand harmonious?<\/p>\n

Quite true, he said.<\/p>\n

Then no intemperance or madness should be allowed to
\napproach true love?<\/p>\n

Certainly not.<\/p>\n

Then mad or intemperate pleasure must never be allowed to
\ncome near the lover and his beloved; neither of them can have any part in it if
\ntheir love is of the right sort?<\/p>\n

No, indeed, Socrates, it must never come near them.<\/p>\n

Then I suppose that in the country which we are founding you
\nwould make a law to the effect that a friend should use no other familiarity to
\nhis love than a father would use to his son, and then only for a noble purpose,
\nand he must first have the other\u2019s consent; and this rule is to limit him in
\nall his intercourse, and he is never to be seen going further, or, if he
\nexceeds, he is to be deemed guilty of coarseness and bad taste.<\/p>\n

I quite agree, he said.<\/p>\n

Thus much of music, which makes a fair ending; for what
\nshould be the end of music if not the love of beauty?<\/p>\n

I agree, he said.<\/p>\n

After music comes gymnastic, in which our youth are next to
\nbe trained.<\/p>\n

Certainly.<\/p>\n

Gymnastic as well as music should begin in early years; the
\ntraining in it should be careful and should continue through life.<\/p>\n

Now my belief is,\u2013and this is a matter upon which I should
\nlike to have your opinion in confirmation of my own, but my own belief is,\u2013not
\nthat the good body by any bodily excellence improves the soul, but, on the
\ncontrary, that the good soul, by her own excellence, improves the body as far
\nas this may be possible.<\/p>\n

What do you say?<\/p>\n

Yes, I agree.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

The mind has been trained, now to the body<\/h2>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Then,
\nto the mind when adequately trained, we shall be right in handing over the more
\nparticular care of the body; and in order to avoid prolixity we will now only
\ngive the general outlines of the subject.<\/span><\/p>\n

Very good.<\/p>\n

That they must abstain from intoxication has been already
\nremarked by us; for of all persons a guardian should be the last to get drunk
\nand not know where in the world he is.<\/p>\n

Yes, he said; that a guardian should require another
\nguardian to take care of him is ridiculous indeed.<\/p>\n

But
\nnext, what shall we say of their food; for the men are in training for the
\ngreat contest of all\u2013are they not?<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes, he said.<\/p>\n

And will the habit of body of our ordinary athletes be
\nsuited to them?<\/p>\n

Why not?<\/p>\n

I am afraid, I said, that a habit of body such as they have
\nis but a sleepy sort of thing, and rather perilous to health.<\/p>\n

Do you not observe that these athletes sleep away their
\nlives, and are liable to most dangerous illnesses if they depart, in ever so
\nslight a degree, from their customary regimen?<\/p>\n

Yes, I do.<\/p>\n

Then, I
\nsaid, a finer sort of training will be required for our warrior athletes, who
\nare to be like wakeful dogs<\/span>, and to see and hear with the utmost
\nkeenness; amid the many changes of water and also of food, of summer heat and
\nwinter cold, which they will have to endure when on a campaign, they must not
\nbe liable to break down in health.<\/p>\n

That is my view.<\/p>\n

The really excellent gymnastic is twin sister of that simple
\nmusic which we were just now describing.<\/p>\n

How so?<\/p>\n

Why, I
\nconceive that there is a gymnastic which, like our music, is simple and good;
\nand especially the military gymnastic.<\/span><\/p>\n

What do you mean?<\/p>\n

My meaning may be learned from Homer; he, you know, feeds
\nhis heroes at their feasts, when they are campaigning, on soldiers\u2019 fare; they
\nhave no fish, although they are on the shores of the Hellespont, and they are
\nnot allowed boiled meats but only roast, which is the food most convenient for
\nsoldiers, requiring only that they should light a fire, and not involving the
\ntrouble of carrying about pots and pans.<\/p>\n

True.<\/p>\n

And I can hardly be mistaken in saying that sweet sauces are
\nnowhere mentioned in Homer.<\/p>\n

In proscribing them, however, he is not singular; all
\nprofessional athletes are well aware that a man who is to be in good condition
\nshould take nothing of the kind.<\/p>\n

Yes, he said; and knowing this, they are quite right in not
\ntaking them.<\/p>\n

Then you would not approve of Syracusan dinners, and the
\nrefinements of Sicilian cookery?<\/p>\n

I think not.<\/p>\n

Nor, if
\na man is to be in condition, would you allow him to have a Corinthian girl as
\nhis fair friend?<\/span><\/p>\n

Certainly not.<\/p>\n

Neither would you approve of the delicacies, as they are
\nthought, of Athenian confectionary?<\/p>\n

Certainly not.<\/p>\n

All such feeding and living may be rightly compared by us to
\nmelody and song composed in the panharmonic style, and in all the rhythms.<\/p>\n

Exactly.<\/p>\n

There complexity engendered licence, and here disease;
\nwhereas simplicity in music was the parent of temperance in the soul; and
\nsimplicity in gymnastic of health in the body.<\/p>\n

Most true, he said.<\/p>\n

But when intemperance and diseases multiply in a nation,
\nhalls of justice and medicine are always being opened; and the arts of the
\ndoctor and the lawyer give themselves airs, finding how keen is the interest
\nwhich not only the slaves but the freemen of a country take about them.<\/p>\n

Of course.<\/p>\n

And yet what greater proof can there be of a bad and
\ndisgraceful nation of education than this, that not only artisans and the
\nmeaner sort of people need the skill of first-rate physicians and judges, but
\nalso those who would profess to have had a liberal education?\u00a0 Is it not disgraceful, and a great sign of
\nwant of good-breeding, that a man should have to go abroad for his law and
\nphysic because he has none of his own at home, and must therefore surrender
\nhimself into the hands of other men whom he makes lords and judges over him?<\/p>\n

Of all things, he said, the most disgraceful.<\/p>\n

Would you say \u2019most,\u2019 I replied, when you consider that
\nthere is a further stage of the evil in which a man is not only a life-long
\nlitigant, passing all his days in the courts, either as plaintiff or defendant,
\nbut is actually led by his bad taste to pride himself on his litigiousness; he
\nimagines that he is a master in dishonesty; able to take every crooked turn,
\nand wriggle into and out of every hole, bending like a withy and getting out of
\nthe way of justice: and all for what?\u2013in order to gain small points not worth
\nmentioning, he not knowing that so to order his life as to be able to do
\nwithout a napping judge is a far higher and nobler sort of thing.<\/p>\n

Is not that still more disgraceful?<\/p>\n

Yes, he said, that is still more disgraceful.<\/p>\n

Well, I said, and to require the help of medicine, not when
\na wound has to be cured, or on occasion of an epidemic, but just because, by
\nindolence and a habit of life such as we have been describing, men fill
\nthemselves with waters and winds, as if their bodies were a marsh, compelling
\nthe ingenious sons of Asclepius to find more names for diseases, such as
\nflatulence and catarrh; is not this, too, a disgrace?<\/p>\n

Yes, he said, they do certainly give very strange and
\nnewfangled names to diseases.<\/p>\n

Yes, I said, and I do not believe that there were any such
\ndiseases in the days of Asclepius; and this I infer from the circumstance that
\nthe hero Eurypylus, after he has been wounded in Homer, drinks a posset of
\nPramnian wine well besprinkled with barley-meal and grated cheese, which are
\ncertainly inflammatory, and yet the sons of Asclepius who were at the Trojan
\nwar do not blame the damsel who gives him the drink, or rebuke Patroclus, who
\nis treating his case.<\/p>\n

Well, he said, that was surely an extraordinary drink to be
\ngiven to a person in his condition.<\/p>\n

Not so extraordinary, I replied, if you bear in mind that in
\nformer days, as is commonly said, before the time of Herodicus, the guild of
\nAsclepius did not practise our present system of medicine, which may be said to
\neducate diseases.<\/p>\n

But Herodicus, being a trainer, and himself of a sickly
\nconstitution, by a combination of training and doctoring found out a way of
\ntorturing first and chiefly himself, and secondly the rest of the world.<\/p>\n

How was that?\u00a0 he
\nsaid.<\/p>\n

By the invention of lingering death; for he had a mortal
\ndisease which he perpetually tended, and as recovery was out of the question,
\nhe passed his entire life as a valetudinarian; he could do nothing but attend
\nupon himself, and he was in constant torment whenever he departed in anything
\nfrom his usual regimen, and so dying hard, by the help of science he struggled
\non to old age.<\/p>\n

A rare reward of his skill! Yes, I said; a reward which a
\nman might fairly expect who never understood that, if Asclepius did not
\ninstruct his descendants in valetudinarian arts, the omission arose, not from
\nignorance or inexperience of such a branch of medicine, but because he knew
\nthat in all well-ordered\u00a0 nations every
\nindividual has an occupation to which he must attend, and has therefore no
\nleisure to spend in continually being ill.<\/p>\n

This we remark in the case of the artisan, but, ludicrously
\nenough, do not apply the same rule to people of the richer sort.<\/p>\n

How do you mean?\u00a0 he
\nsaid.<\/p>\n

I mean this: When a carpenter is ill he asks the physician
\nfor a rough and ready cure; an emetic or a purge or a cautery or the
\nknife,\u2013these are his remedies.<\/p>\n

And if some one prescribes for him a course of dietetics,
\nand tells him that he must swathe and swaddle his head, and all that sort of
\nthing, he replies at once that he has no time to be ill, and that he sees no
\ngood in a life which is spent in nursing his disease to the neglect of his
\ncustomary employment; and therefore bidding good-bye to this sort of physician,
\nhe resumes his ordinary habits, and either gets well and lives and does his
\nbusiness, or, if his constitution fails, he dies and has no more trouble.<\/p>\n

Yes, he said, and a man in his condition of life ought to
\nuse the art of medicine thus far only.<\/p>\n

Has he not, I said, an occupation; and what profit would there be in his life if he
\nwere deprived of his occupation?<\/span><\/p>\n

Quite true, he said.<\/p>\n

But with the rich man this is otherwise; of him we do not
\nsay that he has any specially appointed work which he must perform, if he would
\nlive.<\/p>\n

He is generally supposed to have nothing to do.<\/p>\n

Then you never heard of the saying of Phocylides, that as
\nsoon as a man has a livelihood he should practise virtue?<\/p>\n

Nay, he said, I think that he had better begin somewhat
\nsooner.<\/p>\n

Let us not have a dispute with him about this, I said; but
\nrather ask ourselves: Is the practice of virtue obligatory on the rich man, or
\ncan he live without it?<\/p>\n

And if obligatory on him, then let us raise a further
\nquestion, whether this dieting of disorders, which is an impediment to the
\napplication of the mind in carpentering and the mechanical arts, does not
\nequally stand in the way of the sentiment of Phocylides?<\/p>\n

Of that, he replied, there can be no doubt; such excessive
\ncare of the body, when carried beyond the rules of gymnastic, is most inimical
\nto the practice of virtue.<\/p>\n

Yes, indeed, I replied, and equally incompatible with the
\nmanagement of a house, an army, or an office of nation; and, what is most
\nimportant of all, irreconcileable with any kind of study or thought or
\nself-reflection\u2013there is a constant suspicion that headache and giddiness are
\nto be ascribed to philosophy, and hence all practising or making trial of
\nvirtue in the higher sense is absolutely stopped; for a man is always fancying
\nthat he is being made ill, and is in constant anxiety about the nation of his
\nbody.<\/p>\n

Yes, likely enough.<\/p>\n

And therefore our politic Asclepius may be supposed to have
\nexhibited the power of his art only to persons who, being generally of healthy
\nconstitution and habits of life, had a definite ailment; such as these he cured
\nby purges and operations, and bade them live as usual, herein consulting the
\ninterests of the nation; but bodies which disease had penetrated through and
\nthrough he would not have attempted to cure by gradual processes of evacuation
\nand infusion: he did not want to lengthen out good-for-nothing lives, or to
\nhave weak fathers begetting weaker sons; \u2013if a\nman was not able to live in the ordinary way he had
\nno business to cure him; for such a cure would have been of no use either to
\nhimself, or to the nation.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then, he said, you regard Asclepius as a\u00a0 nationsman.<\/p>\n

Clearly; and his character is further illustrated by his
\nsons.<\/p>\n

Note that they were heroes in the days of old and practised
\nthe medicines of which I am speaking at the siege of Troy: You will remember
\nhow, when Pandarus wounded Menelaus, they \u2019Sucked the blood out of the wound,
\nand sprinkled soothing remedies,\u2019 but they never prescribed what the patient
\nwas afterwards to eat or drink in the case of Menelaus, any more than in the
\ncase of Eurypylus; the remedies, as they conceived, were enough to heal any man
\nwho before he was wounded was healthy and regular in his habits; and even
\nthough he did happen to drink a posset of Pramnian wine, he might get well all
\nthe same.<\/p>\n

But they would have nothing to do with unhealthy and
\nintemperate subjects, whose lives were of no use either to themselves or
\nothers; the art of medicine was not designed for their good, and though they
\nwere as rich as Midas, the sons of Asclepius would have declined to attend
\nthem.<\/p>\n

They were very acute persons, those sons of Asclepius.<\/p>\n

Naturally so, I replied.<\/p>\n

Nevertheless, the tragedians and Pindar disobeying our
\nbehests, although they acknowledge that Asclepius was the son of Apollo, say
\nalso that he was bribed into healing a rich man who was at the point of death,
\nand for this reason he was struck by lightning.<\/p>\n

But we, in accordance with the principle already affirmed by
\nus, will not believe them when they tell us both;\u2013 if he was the son of a god,
\nwe maintain that he was not avaricious; or, if he was avaricious, he was not
\nthe son of a god.<\/p>\n

All that, Socrates, is excellent; but I should like to put a
\nquestion to you: Ought there not to be good physicians in a nation, and are not
\nthe best those who have treated the greatest number of constitutions good and
\nbad?\u00a0 and are not the best judges in
\nlike manner those who are acquainted with all sorts of moral natures?<\/p>\n

Yes, I said, I too would have good judges and good
\nphysicians.<\/p>\n

But do you know whom I think good?<\/p>\n

Will you tell me?<\/p>\n

I will, if I can.<\/p>\n

Let me however note that in the same question you join two
\nthings which are not the same.<\/p>\n

How so?\u00a0 he asked.<\/p>\n

Why, I said, you join physicians and judges.<\/p>\n

Now the most skilful physicians are those who, from their
\nyouth upwards, have combined with the knowledge of their art the greatest
\nexperience of disease; they had better not be robust in health, and should have
\nhad all manner of diseases in their own persons.<\/p>\n

For the body, as I conceive, is not the instrument with
\nwhich they cure the body; in that case we could not allow them ever to be or to
\nhave been sickly; but they cure the body with the mind, and the mind which has
\nbecome and is sick can cure nothing.<\/p>\n

That is very true, he said.<\/p>\n

But with the judge it is otherwise; since he governs mind by
\nmind; he ought not therefore to have been trained among vicious minds, and to
\nhave associated with them from youth upwards, and to have gone through the
\nwhole calendar of crime, only in order that he may quickly infer the crimes of
\nothers as he might their bodily diseases from his own self-consciousness; the
\nhonourable mind which is to form a healthy judgment should have had no
\nexperience or contamination of evil habits when young.<\/p>\n

And this is the reason why in youth good men often appear to
\nbe simple, and are easily practised upon by the dishonest, because they have no
\nexamples of what evil is in their own souls.<\/p>\n

Yes, he said, they are far too apt to be deceived.<\/p>\n

Therefore, I said, the judge should not be young; he should
\nhave learned to know evil, not from his own soul, but from late and long
\nobservation of the nature of evil in others: knowledge should be his guide, not
\npersonal experience.<\/p>\n

Yes, he said, that is the ideal of a judge.<\/p>\n

Yes, I replied, and he will be a good man (which is my
\nanswer to your question); for he is good who has a good soul.<\/p>\n

But the cunning and suspicious nature of which we spoke,\u2013he
\nwho has committed many crimes, and fancies himself to be a master in
\nwickedness, when he is amongst his fellows, is wonderful in the precautions
\nwhich he takes, because he judges of them by himself: but when he gets into the
\ncompany of men of virtue, who have the experience of age, he appears to be a
\nfool again, owing to his unseasonable suspicions; he cannot recognise an honest
\nman, because he has no pattern of honesty in himself; at the same time, as the
\nbad are more numerous than the good, and he meets with them oftener, he thinks
\nhimself, and is by others thought to be, rather wise than foolish.<\/p>\n

Most true, he said.<\/p>\n

Then the good and wise judge whom we are seeking is not this
\nman, but the other; for vice cannot know virtue too, but a virtuous nature,
\neducated by time, will acquire a knowledge both of virtue and vice: the
\nvirtuous, and not the vicious, man has wisdom\u2013in my opinion.<\/p>\n

And in mine also.<\/p>\n

This is the sort of medicine, and this is the sort of law,
\nwhich you will sanction in your nation.<\/p>\n

They will minister to better natures, giving health both of
\nsoul and of body; but those who are diseased in their bodies they will leave to
\ndie, and the corrupt and incurable souls they will put an end to themselves.<\/p>\n

That is clearly the best thing both for the patients and for
\nthe nation.<\/p>\n

And thus our youth, having been educated only in that simple
\nmusic which, as we said, inspires temperance, will be reluctant to go to law.<\/p>\n

Clearly.<\/p>\n

And the musician, who, keeping to the same track, is content
\nto practise the simple gymnastic, will have nothing to do with medicine unless
\nin some extreme case.<\/p>\n

That I quite believe.<\/p>\n

The very exercises and tolls which he undergoes are intended
\nto stimulate the spirited element of his nature, and not to increase his
\nstrength; he will not, like common athletes, use exercise and regimen to
\ndevelope his muscles.<\/p>\n

Very right, he said.<\/p>\n

Neither are the two arts of music and gymnastic really
\ndesigned, as is often supposed, the one for the training of the soul, the other
\nfor the training of the body.<\/p>\n

What then is the real object of them?<\/p>\n

I believe, I said, that the teachers of both have in view
\nchiefly the improvement of the soul.<\/p>\n

How can that be?\u00a0 he
\nasked.<\/p>\n

Did you never observe, I said, the effect on the mind itself
\nof exclusive devotion to gymnastic, or the opposite effect of an exclusive
\ndevotion to music?<\/p>\n

In what way shown?
\nhe said.<\/p>\n

The one producing a temper of hardness and ferocity, the
\nother of softness and effeminacy, I replied.<\/p>\n

Yes, he said, I am quite aware that the mere athlete becomes
\ntoo much of a savage, and that the mere musician is melted and softened beyond
\nwhat is good for him.<\/p>\n

Yet surely, I said, this ferocity only comes from spirit,
\nwhich, if rightly educated, would give courage, but, if too much intensified,
\nis liable to become hard and brutal.<\/p>\n

That I quite think.<\/p>\n

On the other hand the philosopher will have the quality of
\ngentleness.<\/p>\n

And this also, when too much indulged, will turn to
\nsoftness, but, if educated rightly, will be gentle and moderate.<\/p>\n

True.<\/p>\n

And in our opinion the guardians ought to have both these
\nqualities?<\/p>\n

Assuredly.<\/p>\n

And both should be in harmony?<\/p>\n

Beyond question.<\/p>\n

And the harmonious soul is both temperate and courageous?<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

And the inharmonious is cowardly and boorish?<\/p>\n

Very true.<\/p>\n

And, when a man allows music to play upon him and to pour
\ninto his soul through the funnel of his ears those sweet and soft and
\nmelancholy airs of which we were just now speaking, and his whole life is
\npassed in warbling and the delights of song; in the first stage of the process
\nthe passion or spirit which is in him is tempered like iron, and made useful,
\ninstead of brittle and useless.<\/p>\n

But, if he carries on the softening and soothing process, in
\nthe next stage he begins to melt and waste, until he has wasted away his spirit
\nand cut out the sinews of his soul; and he becomes a feeble warrior.<\/p>\n

Very true.<\/p>\n

If the element of spirit is naturally weak in him the change
\nis speedily accomplished, but if he have a good deal, then the power of music
\nweakening the spirit renders him excitable;\u2013on the least provocation he flames
\nup at once, and is speedily extinguished; instead of having spirit he grows
\nirritable and passionate and is quite impracticable.<\/p>\n

Exactly.<\/p>\n

And so in gymnastics, if a man takes violent exercise and is
\na great feeder, and the reverse of a great student of music and philosophy, at
\nfirst the high condition of his body fills him with pride and spirit, and he
\nbecomes twice the man that he was.<\/p>\n

Certainly.<\/p>\n

And what happens?\u00a0 if
\nhe do nothing else, and holds no converse with the Muses, does not even that
\nintelligence which there may be in him, having no taste of any sort of learning
\nor enquiry or thought or culture, grow feeble and dull and blind, his mind
\nnever waking up or receiving nourishment, and his senses not being purged of
\ntheir mists?<\/p>\n

True, he said.<\/p>\n

And he ends by becoming a hater of philosophy, uncivilized,
\nnever using the weapon of persuasion,\u2013he is like a wild beast, all violence and
\nfierceness, and knows no other way of dealing; and he lives in all ignorance
\nand evil conditions, and has no sense of propriety and grace.<\/p>\n

That is quite true, he said.<\/p>\n

And as there are two principles of human nature, one the
\nspirited and the other the philosophical, some God, as I should say, has given
\nmankind two arts answering to them (and only indirectly to the soul and body),
\nin order that these two principles (like the strings of an instrument) may be
\nrelaxed or drawn tighter until they are duly harmonized.<\/p>\n

That appears to be the intention.<\/p>\n

And he who mingles music with gymnastic in the fairest
\nproportions, and best attempers them to the soul, may be rightly called the
\ntrue musician and harmonist in a far higher sense than the tuner of the
\nstrings.<\/p>\n

You are quite right, Socrates.<\/p>\n

And such a presiding genius will be always required in our
\nnation if the government is to last.<\/p>\n

Yes, he will be absolutely necessary.<\/p>\n

Such, then, are our principles of nurture and education:
\nWhere would be the use of going into further details about the dances of our
\ncitizens, or about their hunting and coursing, their gymnastic and equestrian
\ncontests?\u00a0 For these all follow the
\ngeneral principle, and having found that, we shall have no difficulty in
\ndiscovering them.<\/p>\n

I dare say that there will be no difficulty.<\/p>\n

Very good, I said; then what is the next question?\u00a0 Must we not ask who are to be rulers and who
\nsubjects?<\/p>\n

Certainly.<\/p>\n

There can be no doubt that the elder must rule the younger.<\/p>\n

Clearly.<\/p>\n

And that the best of these must rule.<\/p>\n

That is also clear.<\/p>\n

Now, are not the best husbandmen those who are most devoted
\nto husbandry?<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

And as we are to have the best of guardians for our city,
\nmust they not be those who have most the character of guardians?<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

And to this end they ought to be wise and efficient, and to
\nhave a special care of the nation?<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Loyalty<\/h2>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

True.<\/p>\n

And a
\nman will be most likely to care about that which he loves?<\/span><\/p>\n

To be sure.<\/p>\n

And he
\nwill be most likely to love that which he regards as having the same interests
\nwith himself, and that of which the good or evil fortune is supposed by him at
\nany time most to affect his own?<\/span><\/p>\n

Very true, he replied.<\/p>\n

Then there must be a selection.<\/p>\n

Let us
\nnote among the guardians those who in their whole life show the greatest
\neagerness to do what is for the good of their country, and the greatest
\nrepugnance to do what is against her interests.<\/span><\/p>\n

Those
\nare the right men.<\/span><\/p>\n

And they will have to be watched at every age, in order that
\nwe may see whether they preserve their resolution, and never, under the
\ninfluence either of force or enchantment, forget or cast off their sense of
\nduty to the nation.<\/p>\n

How cast off?\u00a0 he
\nsaid.<\/p>\n

I will explain to you, I replied.<\/p>\n

A resolution may go out of a man\u2019s mind either with his will
\nor against his will; with his will when he gets rid of a falsehood and learns
\nbetter, against his will whenever he is deprived of a truth.<\/p>\n

I understand, he said, the willing loss of a resolution; the
\nmeaning of the unwilling I have yet to learn.<\/p>\n

Why, I said, do you not see that men are unwillingly
\ndeprived of good, and willingly of evil?
\nIs not to have lost the truth an evil, and to possess the truth a
\ngood?\u00a0 and you would agree that to
\nconceive things as they are is to possess the truth?<\/p>\n

Yes, he replied; I agree with you in thinking that mankind
\nare deprived of truth against their will.<\/p>\n

And is not this involuntary deprivation caused either by
\ntheft, or force, or enchantment?<\/p>\n

Still, he replied, I do not understand you.<\/p>\n

I fear that I must have been talking darkly, like the
\ntragedians.<\/p>\n

I only mean that some men are changed by persuasion and that
\nothers forget; argument steals away the hearts of one class, and time of the
\nother; and this I call theft.<\/p>\n

Now you understand me?<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

Those again who are forced, are those whom the violence of
\nsome pain or grief compels to change their opinion.<\/p>\n

I understand, he said, and you are quite right.<\/p>\n

And you would also acknowledge that the enchanted are those
\nwho change their minds either under the softer influence of pleasure, or the
\nsterner influence of fear?<\/p>\n

Yes, he said; everything that deceives may be said to
\nenchant.<\/p>\n

Therefore,
\nas I was just now saying, we must enquire who are the best guardians of their
\nown conviction that what they think the interest of the nation is to be the
\nrule of their lives.<\/span><\/p>\n

We must
\nwatch them from their youth upwards, and make them perform actions in which
\nthey are most likely to forget or to be deceived, and he who remembers and is
\nnot deceived is to be selected, and he who fails in the trial is to be
\nrejected.<\/span><\/p>\n

That will be the way?<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

And there should also be toils and pains and conflicts
\nprescribed for them, in which they will be made to give further proof of the
\nsame qualities.<\/p>\n

Very right, he replied.<\/p>\n

And then, I said, we must try them with enchantments\u2013that is
\nthe third sort of test\u2013and see what will be their behaviour: like those who
\ntake colts amid noise and tumult to see if they are of a timid nature, so must
\nwe take our youth amid terrors of some kind, and again pass them into\npleasures,
\nand prove them more thoroughly than gold is proved in the furnace, that we may
\ndiscover whether they are armed against all enchantments, and of a noble
\nbearing always, good guardians of themselves and of the music which they have
\nlearned, and retaining under all circumstances a rhythmical and harmonious
\nnature, such as will be most serviceable to the individual and to the nation.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

How Rulers are to gain power<\/h2>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

And he
\nwho at every age, as boy and youth and in mature life, has come out of the
\ntrial victorious and pure, shall be appointed a ruler and guardian of the
\nnation; he shall be honoured in life and death, and shall receive sepulture and
\nother memorials of honour, the greatest that we have to give.<\/span><\/p>\n

But him who fails, we must reject.<\/p>\n

I am
\ninclined to think that this is the sort of way in which our rulers and
\nguardians should be chosen and appointed.<\/span><\/p>\n

I speak generally, and not with any pretension to exactness.<\/p>\n

And, speaking generally, I agree with you, he said.<\/p>\n

And
\nperhaps the word \u2019guardian\u2019 in the fullest sense ought to be applied to this
\nhigher class only who preserve us against foreign enemies and maintain peace
\namong our citizens at home, that the one may not have the will, or the others
\nthe power, to harm us.<\/span><\/p>\n

The
\nyoung men whom we before called guardians may be more properly designated
\nauxiliaries and supporters of the principles of the rulers.<\/span><\/p>\n

I agree with you, he said.<\/p>\n

How
\nthen may we devise one of those needful falsehoods of which we lately
\nspoke\u2013just one royal lie which may deceive the rulers, if that be possible, and
\nat any rate the rest of the country?<\/span><\/p>\n

What
\nsort of lie?\u00a0 he said.<\/span><\/p>\n

Nothing new, I replied; only an old Phoenician tale (Laws)
\nof what has often occurred before now in other places, (as the poets say, and
\nhave made the world believe,) though not in our time, and I do not know whether
\nsuch an event could ever happen again, or could now even be made probable, if
\nit did.<\/p>\n

How your words seem to hesitate on your lips! You will not
\nwonder, I replied, at my hesitation when you have heard.<\/p>\n

Speak, he said, and fear not.<\/p>\n

Well
\nthen, I will speak, although I really know not how to look you in the face, or
\nin what words to utter the audacious fiction, which I propose to communicate
\ngradually, first to the rulers, then to the soldiers, and lastly to the people.<\/span><\/p>\n

They
\nare to be told that their youth was a dream, and the education and training
\nwhich they received from us, an appearance only; in reality during all that
\ntime they were being formed and fed in the womb of the country, where they
\nthemselves and their arms and appurtenances were manufactured; when they were
\ncompleted, the country, their mother, sent them up; and so, their country being
\ntheir mother and also their nurse, they are bound to advise for her good, and
\nto defend her against attacks, and her citizens they are to regard as their own
\nbrothers.<\/span><\/p>\n

You had good reason, he said, to be ashamed of the lie which
\nyou were going to tell.<\/p>\n

True, I replied, but there is more coming; I have only told
\nyou half.<\/p>\n

Citizens,
\nwe shall say to them in our tale, you are brothers, yet God has framed you
\ndifferently.<\/span><\/p>\n

Some of
\nyou have the power of command, and in the composition of these he has mingled
\ngold, wherefore also they have the greatest honour; others he has made of
\nsilver, to be auxiliaries; others again who are to be husbandmen and craftsmen
\nhe has composed of brass and iron; and the species will generally be preserved
\nin the children.<\/span><\/p>\n

But as
\nall are of the same original stock, a golden parent will sometimes have a
\nsilver son, or a silver parent a golden son.<\/span><\/p>\n

And God
\nproclaims as a first principle to the rulers, and above all else, that there is
\nnothing which they should so anxiously guard, or of which they are to be such
\ngood guardians,<\/span> as of
\nthe purity of the race.<\/span><\/p>\n

They should observe what elements mingle in their offspring;
\nfor if the son of a golden or silver parent has an admixture of brass and iron,
\nthen nature orders a transposition of ranks, and the eye of the ruler must not
\nbe pitiful towards the child because he has to descend in the scale and become
\na husbandman or artisan, just as there may be sons of artisans who having an
\nadmixture of gold or silver in them are raised to honour, and become guardians
\nor auxiliaries.<\/p>\n

For an oracle says that when a man of brass or iron guards
\nthe nation, it will be destroyed.<\/p>\n

Such is the tale; is there any possibility of making our
\ncitizens believe in it?<\/p>\n

Not in the present generation, he replied; there is no way
\nof accomplishing this; but their sons may be made to believe in the tale, and
\ntheir sons\u2019 sons, and posterity after them.<\/p>\n

I see the difficulty, I replied; yet the fostering of such a
\nbelief will make them care more for the country and for one another.<\/p>\n

Enough, however, of the fiction, which may now fly abroad
\nupon the wings of rumour, while we arm our earthborn heroes, and lead them
\nforth under the command of their rulers.<\/p>\n

Let them look round and select a spot whence they can best
\nsuppress insurrection, if any prove refractory within, and also defend
\nthemselves against enemies, who like wolves may come down on the fold from
\nwithout; there let them encamp, and when they have encamped, let them sacrifice
\nto the proper Gods and prepare their dwellings.<\/p>\n

Just so, he said.<\/p>\n

And their dwellings must be such as will shield them against
\nthe cold of winter and the heat of summer.<\/p>\n

I suppose that you mean houses, he replied.<\/p>\n

Yes, I said; but they must be the houses of soldiers, and
\nnot of shop- keepers.<\/p>\n

What is the difference?
\nhe said.<\/p>\n

That I will endeavour to explain, I replied.<\/p>\n

To keep watch-dogs, who, from want of discipline or hunger,
\nor some evil habit or other, would turn upon the sheep and worry them, and
\nbehave not like dogs but wolves, would be a foul and monstrous thing in a
\nshepherd?<\/p>\n

Truly monstrous, he said.<\/p>\n

And therefore every care must be taken that our auxiliaries,
\nbeing stronger than our citizens, may not grow to be too much for them and
\nbecome savage tyrants instead of friends and allies?<\/p>\n

Yes, great care should be taken.<\/p>\n

And would not a really good education furnish the best
\nsafeguard?<\/p>\n

But they are well-educated already, he replied.<\/p>\n

I cannot be so confident, my dear Glaucon, I said; I am much
\nmore certain that they ought to be, and that true education, whatever that may
\nbe, will have the greatest tendency to civilize and humanize them in their
\nrelations to one another, and to those who are under their protection.<\/p>\n

Very true, he replied.<\/p>\n

And not only their education, but their habitations, and all
\nthat belongs to them, should be such as will neither impair their virtue as
\nguardians, nor tempt them to prey upon the other citizens.<\/p>\n

Any man of sense must acknowledge that.<\/p>\n

He must.<\/p>\n

Then now let us consider what will be their way of life, if
\nthey are to realize our idea of them.<\/p>\n

In the first place, none of them should have any property of
\nhis own beyond what is absolutely necessary; neither should they have a private
\nhouse or store closed against any one who has a mind to enter; their provisions
\nshould be only such as are required by trained warriors, who are men of
\ntemperance and courage; they should agree to receive from the citizens a fixed
\nrate of pay, enough to meet the expenses of the year and no more; and they will
\ngo to mess and live together like soldiers in a camp.<\/p>\n

Gold and silver we will tell them that they have from God;
\nthe diviner metal is within them, and they have therefore no need of the dross
\nwhich is current among men, and ought not to pollute the divine by any such
\nearthly admixture; for that commoner metal has been the source of many unholy
\ndeeds, but their own is undefiled.<\/p>\n

And they alone of all the citizens may not touch or handle
\nsilver or gold, or be under the same roof with them, or wear them, or drink
\nfrom them.<\/p>\n

And this will be their salvation, and they will be the
\nsaviours of the nation.<\/p>\n

But should they ever acquire homes or lands or moneys of\ntheir
\nown, they will become housekeepers and husbandmen instead of guardians, enemies
\nand tyrants instead of allies of the other citizens; hating and being hated,
\nplotting and being plotted against, they will pass their whole life in much
\ngreater terror of internal than of external enemies, and the hour of ruin, both
\nto themselves and to the rest of the nation, will be at hand.<\/p>\n

For all
\nwhich reasons may we not say that thus shall our nation be ordered, and that
\nthese shall be the regulations appointed by us for guardians concerning their
\nhouses and all other matters?<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes,
\nsaid Glaucon.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

The Purpose of Justice<\/h1>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Parents and tutors are always telling their sons and their
\nwards that they are to be just; but why?
\nNot for the sake of justice, but for the sake of character and
\nreputation; in the hope of obtaining for him who is reputed just some of those
\noffices, marriages, and the like which Glaucon has enumerated among the
\nadvantages accruing to the unjust from the reputation of justice.<\/p>\n

More, however, is made of appearances by this class of
\npersons than by the others; for they throw in the good opinion of the gods, and
\nwill tell you of a shower of benefits which the heavens, as they say, rain upon
\nthe pious; and this accords with the testimony of the noble Hesiod and Homer,
\nthe first of whom says, that the gods make the oaks of the just\u2013 \u2019To bear
\nacorns at their summit, and bees in the middle; And the sheep are bowed down
\nwith the weight of their fleeces,\u2019 and many other blessings of a like kind are
\nprovided for them.<\/p>\n

Some extend their rewards yet further; the posterity, as
\nthey say, of the faithful and just shall survive to the third and fourth
\ngeneration.<\/p>\n

This is the style in which they praise justice.<\/p>\n

But about the wicked there is another strain; they bury them
\nin a slough in Hades, and make them carry water in a sieve; also while they are
\nyet living they bring them to infamy, and inflict upon them the punishments
\nwhich Glaucon described as the portion of the just who are reputed to be
\nunjust; nothing else does their invention supply.<\/p>\n

Such is their manner of praising the one and censuring the
\nother.<\/p>\n

Once more, Socrates, I will ask you to consider another way
\nof speaking about justice and injustice, which is not confined to the poets,
\nbut is found in prose writers.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Nations<\/h2>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

I will tell you, I replied; justice, which is the subject of
\nour enquiry, is, as you know, sometimes spoken of as the virtue of an
\nindividual, and sometimes as the virtue of a nation.<\/p>\n

True, he replied.<\/p>\n

And is not a nation larger than an individual?<\/p>\n

It is.<\/p>\n

Then in the larger the quantity of justice is likely to be
\nlarger and more easily discernible.<\/p>\n

I propose therefore that we enquire into the nature of
\njustice and injustice, first as they appear in the nation, and secondly in the
\nindividual, proceeding from the greater to the lesser and comparing them.<\/p>\n

That, he said, is an excellent proposal.<\/p>\n

And if we imagine the nation in process of creation, we
\nshall see the justice and injustice of the nation in process of creation also.<\/p>\n

I dare say.<\/p>\n

When the nation is completed there may be a hope that the
\nobject of our search will be more easily discovered.<\/p>\n

Yes, far more easily.<\/p>\n

But ought we to attempt to construct one?\u00a0 I said; for to do so, as I am inclined to
\nthink, will be a very serious task.<\/p>\n

Reflect therefore.<\/p>\n

I have reflected, said Adeimantus, and am anxious that you
\nshould proceed.<\/p>\n

A
\nnation, I said, arises, as I conceive, out of the needs of mankind; no one is
\nself-sufficing, but all of us have many wants.<\/span><\/p>\n

Can any other origin of a nation be imagined?<\/p>\n

There can be no other.<\/p>\n

Then, as we have many wants, and many persons are needed to
\nsupply them, one takes a helper for one purpose and another for another; and
\nwhen these partners and helpers are gathered together in one habitation the
\nbody of inhabitants is termed a nation.<\/p>\n

True, he said.<\/p>\n

And they exchange with one another, and one gives, and
\nanother receives, under the idea that the exchange will be for their good.<\/p>\n

Very true.<\/p>\n

Then, I said, let us begin and create in idea a nation; and
\nyet the true creator is necessity, who is the mother of our invention.<\/p>\n

Of course, he replied.<\/p>\n

Now the
\nfirst and greatest of necessities is food, which is the condition of life and
\nexistence.<\/span><\/p>\n

Certainly.<\/span><\/p>\n

The
\nsecond is a dwelling, and the third clothing and the like.<\/span><\/p>\n

True.<\/span><\/p>\n

And now let us see how our country will be able to supply
\nthis great demand: We may suppose that one man is a husbandman, another a
\nbuilder, some one else a weaver\u2013shall we add to them a shoemaker, or perhaps
\nsome other purveyor to our bodily wants?<\/p>\n

Quite right.<\/p>\n

The barest notion of a
\nnation must include four or five men.[ds1]<\/a><\/p>\n

Clearly.<\/p>\n

And how will they proceed?
\nWill each bring the result of his labours into a common stock?\u2013the
\nindividual husbandman, for example, producing for four, and labouring four
\ntimes as long and as much as he need in the provision of food with which he
\nsupplies others as well as himself; or will he have nothing to do with others
\nand not be at the trouble of producing for them, but provide for himself alone
\na fourth of the food in a fourth of the time, and in the remaining three
\nfourths of his time be employed in making a house or a coat or a pair of shoes,
\nhaving no partnership with others, but supplying himself all his own wants?<\/p>\n

Adeimantus thought that he should aim at producing food only
\nand not at producing everything.<\/p>\n

Probably, I replied, that would be the better way; and when
\nI hear you say this, I am myself reminded that we are not all alike; there are
\ndiversities of natures among us which are adapted to different occupations.<\/p>\n

Very true.<\/p>\n

And will you have a
\nwork better done when the workman has many occupations, or when he has only
\none?[ds2]<\/a><\/p>\n

When he has only one.<\/p>\n

Further, there can be no doubt that a work is spoilt when
\nnot done at the right time?<\/p>\n

No doubt.<\/p>\n

For business is not disposed to wait until the doer of the
\nbusiness is at leisure; but the doer must follow up what he is doing, and make
\nthe business his first object.<\/p>\n

He must.<\/p>\n

And if so, we must infer that all things are produced more
\nplentifully and easily and of a better quality when one man does one thing
\nwhich is natural to him and does it at the right time, and leaves other things.<\/p>\n

Undoubtedly.<\/p>\n

Then more than four citizens will be required; for the
\nhusbandman will not make his own plough or mattock, or other implements of
\nagriculture, if they are to be good for anything.<\/p>\n

Neither will the builder make his tools\u2013and he too needs
\nmany; and in like manner the weaver and shoemaker.<\/p>\n

True.<\/p>\n

Then carpenters, and smiths, and many other artisans, will
\nbe sharers in our little nation, which is already beginning to grow?<\/p>\n

True.<\/p>\n

Yet even if we add neatherds, shepherds, and other herdsmen,
\nin order that our husbandmen may have oxen to plough with, and builders as well
\nas husbandmen may have draught cattle, and curriers and weavers fleeces and
\nhides,\u2013still our nation will not be very large.<\/p>\n

That is true; yet neither will it be a very small nation
\nwhich contains all these.<\/p>\n

Then, again, there is the situation of the city\u2013to find a
\nplace where nothing need be imported is well nigh impossible.<\/p>\n

Impossible.<\/p>\n

Then there must be another class of citizens who will bring
\nthe required supply from another country?<\/p>\n

There must.<\/p>\n

But if the trader goes empty-handed, having nothing which
\nthey require who would supply his need, he will come back empty-handed.<\/p>\n

That is certain.<\/p>\n

And therefore what they produce at home must be not only
\nenough for themselves, but such both in quantity and quality as to accommodate
\nthose from whom their wants are supplied.<\/p>\n

Very true.<\/p>\n

Then more husbandmen and more artisans will be required?<\/p>\n

They will.<\/p>\n

Not to mention the importers and exporters, who are called
\nmerchants?<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

Then we shall want merchants?<\/p>\n

We shall.<\/p>\n

And if merchandise is to be carried over the sea, skilful
\nsailors will also be needed, and in considerable numbers?<\/p>\n

Yes, in considerable numbers.<\/p>\n

Then, again, within the city, how will they exchange their
\nproductions?\u00a0 To secure such an exchange
\nwas, as you will remember, one of our principal objects when we formed them
\ninto a society and constituted a nation.<\/p>\n

Clearly they will buy and sell.<\/p>\n

Then
\nthey will need a market-place, and a money-token for purposes of exchange.<\/span><\/p>\n

Certainly.<\/p>\n

Suppose now that a husbandman, or an artisan, brings some
\nproduction to market, and he comes at a time when there is no one to exchange
\nwith him,\u2013 is he to leave his calling and sit idle in the market-place?<\/p>\n

Not at all; he will find people there who, seeing the want,
\nundertake the office of salesmen.<\/p>\n

In well-ordered
\nnations they are commonly those who are the weakest in bodily strength,
\nand therefore of little use for any other purpose; their duty is to be in the
\nmarket, and to give money in exchange for goods to those who desire to sell and
\nto take money from those who desire to buy.<\/p>\n

This want, then, creates a class of retail-traders in our
\nnation.<\/p>\n

Is not \u2019retailer\u2019 the term which is applied to those who sit
\nin the market-place engaged in buying and selling, while those who wander from
\none country to another are called merchants?<\/p>\n

Yes, he said.<\/p>\n

And there is another class of servants, who are
\nintellectually hardly on the level of companionship; still they have plenty of
\nbodily strength for labour, which accordingly they sell, and are called, if I
\ndo not mistake, hirelings, hire being the name which is given to the price of
\ntheir labour.<\/p>\n

True.<\/p>\n

Then hirelings will help to make up our population?<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

And now, Adeimantus, is our nation matured and perfected?<\/p>\n

I think so.<\/p>\n

Where, then, is justice, and where is injustice, and in what
\npart of the nation did they spring up?<\/p>\n

Probably in the dealings of these citizens with one another.<\/p>\n

I cannot imagine that they are more likely to be found any
\nwhere else.<\/p>\n

I dare say that you are right in your suggestion, I said; we
\nhad better think the matter out, and not shrink from the enquiry.<\/p>\n

Let us then consider, first of all, what will be their way
\nof life, now that we have thus established them.<\/p>\n

Will they not produce corn, and wine, and clothes, and
\nshoes, and build houses for themselves?
\nAnd when they are housed, they will work, in summer, commonly, stripped
\nand barefoot, but in winter substantially clothed and shod.<\/p>\n

They will feed on barley-meal and flour of wheat, baking and
\nkneading them, making noble cakes and loaves; these they will serve up on a mat
\nof reeds or on clean leaves, themselves reclining the while upon beds strewn
\nwith yew or myrtle.<\/p>\n

And they and their children will feast, drinking of the wine
\nwhich they have made, wearing garlands on their heads, and hymning the praises
\nof the gods, in happy converse with one another.<\/p>\n

And they will take care that their families do not exceed
\ntheir means; having an eye to poverty or war.<\/p>\n

But, said Glaucon, interposing, you have not given them a
\nrelish to their meal.<\/p>\n

True, I replied, I had forgotten; of course they must have a
\nrelish\u2013salt, and olives, and cheese, and they will boil roots and herbs such as
\ncountry people pare; for a dessert we shall give them figs, and peas, and
\nbeans; and they will roast myrtle-berries and acorns at the fire, drinking in
\nmoderation.<\/p>\n

And with such a diet they may be expected to live in peace
\nand health to a good old age, and bequeath a similar life to their children
\nafter them.<\/p>\n

Yes, Socrates, he said, and if you were providing for a
\nnation of pigs, how else would you feed the beasts?<\/p>\n

But what would you have, Glaucon?\u00a0 I replied.<\/p>\n

Why, he said, you should give them the ordinary conveniences
\nof life.<\/p>\n

People who are to be comfortable are accustomed to lie on
\nsofas, and dine off tables, and they should have sauces and sweets in the
\nmodern style.<\/p>\n

Yes, I said, now I understand: the question which you would
\nhave me consider is, not only how a nation, but how a luxurious nation is
\ncreated; and possibly there is no harm in this, for in such a nation we shall
\nbe more likely to see how justice and injustice originate.<\/p>\n

In my opinion the true and healthy constitution of the\nnation
\nis the one which I have described.<\/p>\n

But if you wish also to see a nation at fever-heat, I have
\nno objection.<\/p>\n

For I suspect that many will not be satisfied with the
\nsimpler way of life.<\/p>\n

They will be for adding sofas, and tables, and other
\nfurniture; also dainties, and perfumes, and incense, and courtesans, and cakes,
\nall these not of one sort only, but in every variety; we must go beyond the
\nnecessaries of which I was at first speaking, such as houses, and clothes, and
\nshoes: the arts of the painter and the embroiderer will have to be set in
\nmotion, and gold and ivory and all sorts of materials must be procured.<\/p>\n

True, he said.<\/p>\n

Then we must enlarge our borders; for the original healthy
\nnation is no longer sufficient.<\/p>\n

Now will the country have to fill and swell with a multitude
\nof callings which are not required by any natural want; such as the whole tribe
\nof hunters and actors, of whom one large class have to do with forms and
\ncolours; another will be the votaries of music\u2013poets and their attendant train
\nof rhapsodists, players, dancers, contractors; also makers of divers kinds of
\narticles, including women\u2019s dresses.<\/p>\n

And we shall want more servants.<\/p>\n

Will not tutors be also in request, and nurses wet and dry,
\ntirewomen and barbers, as well as confectioners and cooks; and swineherds, too,
\nwho were not needed and therefore had no place in the former edition of our
\nnation, but are needed now?\u00a0 They must
\nnot be forgotten: and there will be animals of many other kinds, if people eat
\nthem.<\/p>\n

Certainly.<\/p>\n

And living in this way we shall have much greater need of
\nphysicians than before?<\/p>\n

Much greater.<\/p>\n

And the
\ncountry which was enough to support the original inhabitants will be too small
\nnow, and not enough?<\/span><\/p>\n

Quite true.<\/p>\n

Then a
\nslice of our neighbours\u2019 land will be wanted by us for pasture and tillage, and
\nthey will want a slice of ours, if, like ourselves, they exceed the limit of
\nnecessity, and give themselves up to the unlimited accumulation of wealth?<\/span><\/p>\n

That, Socrates, will be inevitable.<\/p>\n

And so
\nwe shall go to war, Glaucon.<\/span><\/p>\n

Shall
\nwe not?<\/span><\/p>\n

Most
\ncertainly, he replied.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then without determining as yet whether war does good or
\nharm, thus much we may affirm, that now we have discovered war to be derived
\nfrom causes which are also the causes of almost all the evils in nations,
\nprivate as well as public.<\/p>\n

Undoubtedly.<\/p>\n

And our
\nnation must once more enlarge; and this time the enlargement will be nothing
\nshort of a whole army, which will have to go out and fight with the invaders
\nfor all that we have, as well as for the things and persons whom we were
\ndescribing above.<\/span><\/p>\n

Why?\u00a0 he said; are
\nthey not capable of defending themselves?<\/p>\n

No, I said; not if we were right in the principle which was
\nacknowledged by all of us when we were framing the nation: the principle, as
\nyou will remember, was that one man cannot practise many arts with success.<\/p>\n

Very true, he said.<\/p>\n

But is not war an art?<\/p>\n

Certainly.<\/p>\n

And an art requiring as much attention as shoemaking?<\/p>\n

Quite true.<\/p>\n

And the shoemaker was not allowed by us to be a husbandman,
\nor a weaver, or a builder\u2013in order that we might have our shoes well made; but
\nto him and to every other worker was assigned one work for which he was by
\nnature fitted, and at that he was to continue working all his life long and at
\nno other; he was not to let opportunities slip, and then he would become a good
\nworkman.<\/p>\n

Now nothing can be more important than that the work of a
\nsoldier should be well done.<\/p>\n

But is war an art so easily acquired that a man may be a
\nwarrior who is also a husbandman, or shoemaker, or other artisan; although no
\none in the world would be a good dice or draught player who merely took up the
\ngame as a recreation, and had not from his earliest years devoted himself to
\nthis and nothing else?\u00a0 No tools will
\nmake a man a skilled workman, or master of defence, nor be of any use to him
\nwho has not learned how to handle them, and has never bestowed any attention
\nupon them.<\/p>\n

How then will he who takes up a shield or other implement of
\nwar become a good fighter all in a day, whether with heavy-armed or any other
\nkind of troops?<\/p>\n

Yes, he said, the tools which would teach men their own use
\nwould be beyond price.<\/p>\n

And the higher the duties of the guardian, I said, the more
\ntime, and skill, and art, and application will be needed by him?<\/p>\n

No doubt, he replied.<\/p>\n

Will he not also require natural aptitude for his calling?<\/p>\n

Certainly.<\/p>\n

Then it
\nwill be our duty to select, if we can, natures which are fitted for the task of
\nguarding the country<\/span>?<\/p>\n

It will.<\/p>\n

And the selection will be no easy matter, I said; but we
\nmust be brave and do our best.<\/p>\n

We must.<\/p>\n

Is not
\nthe noble youth very like a well-bred dog in respect of guarding and watching?<\/span><\/p>\n

What do
\nyou mean?<\/span><\/p>\n

I mean
\nthat both of them ought to be quick to see, and swift to overtake the enemy
\nwhen they see him; and strong too if, when they have caught him, they have to
\nfight with him.<\/span><\/p>\n

All
\nthese qualities, he replied, will certainly be required by them.<\/span><\/p>\n

Well,
\nand your guardian must be brave if he is to fight well?<\/span><\/p>\n

Certainly.<\/span><\/p>\n

And is
\nhe likely to be brave who has no spirit, whether horse or dog or any other
\nanimal?\u00a0 Have you never observed how
\ninvincible and unconquerable is spirit and how the presence of it makes the
\nsoul of any creature to be absolutely fearless and indomitable?<\/span><\/p>\n

I have.<\/p>\n

Then now we have a clear notion of the bodily qualities
\nwhich are required in the guardian.<\/p>\n

True.<\/p>\n

And
\nalso of the mental ones; his soul is to be full of spirit?<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes.<\/span><\/p>\n

But are
\nnot these spirited natures apt to be savage with one another, and with
\neverybody else?<\/span><\/p>\n

A
\ndifficulty by no means easy to overcome, he replied.<\/span><\/p>\n

Whereas,
\nI said, they ought to be dangerous to their enemies, and gentle to their
\nfriends; if not, they will destroy themselves without waiting for their enemies
\nto destroy them.<\/span><\/p>\n

True,
\nhe said.<\/span><\/p>\n

What is
\nto be done then?\u00a0 I said; how shall we
\nfind a gentle nature which has also a great spirit, for the one is the
\ncontradiction of the other?<\/span><\/p>\n

True.<\/p>\n

He will not be a good guardian who is wanting in either of
\nthese two qualities; and yet the combination of them appears to be impossible;
\nand hence we must infer that to be a good guardian is impossible.<\/p>\n

I am afraid that what you say is true, he replied.<\/p>\n

Here feeling perplexed I began to think over what had
\npreceded.\u2013My friend, I said, no wonder that we are in a perplexity; for we have
\nlost sight of the image which we had before us.<\/p>\n

What do you mean?\u00a0 he
\nsaid.<\/p>\n

I mean to say that there do exist natures gifted with those
\nopposite qualities.<\/p>\n

And where do you find them?<\/p>\n

Many
\nanimals, I replied, furnish examples of them; our friend the dog is a very good
\none: you know that well-bred dogs are perfectly gentle to their familiars and
\nacquaintances, and the reverse to strangers.<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes, I know.<\/p>\n

Then there is nothing impossible or out of the order of
\nnature in our finding a guardian who has a similar combination of qualities?<\/p>\n

Certainly not.<\/p>\n

Would not he who is fitted to be a guardian, besides the
\nspirited nature, need to have the qualities of a philosopher?<\/p>\n

I do not apprehend your meaning.<\/p>\n

The trait of which I am speaking, I replied, may be also
\nseen in the dog, and is remarkable in the animal.<\/p>\n

What trait?<\/p>\n

Why, a
\ndog, whenever he sees a stranger, is angry; when an acquaintance, he welcomes
\nhim, although the one has never done him any harm, nor the other any good.<\/span><\/p>\n

Did
\nthis never strike you as curious?<\/span><\/p>\n

The
\nmatter never struck me before; but I quite recognise the truth of your remark.<\/span><\/p>\n

And
\nsurely this instinct of the dog is very charming;\u2013your dog is a true
\nphilosopher.<\/span><\/p>\n

Why?<\/span><\/p>\n

Why,
\nbecause he distinguishes the face of a friend and of an enemy only by the
\ncriterion of knowing and not knowing.<\/span><\/p>\n

And must not an animal be a lover of learning who determines
\nwhat he likes and dislikes by the test of knowledge and ignorance?<\/p>\n

Most assuredly.<\/p>\n

And is not the love of learning the love of wisdom, which is
\nphilosophy?<\/p>\n

They are the same, he replied.<\/p>\n

And may we not say confidently of man also, that he who is
\nlikely to be gentle to his friends and acquaintances, must by nature be a lover
\nof wisdom and knowledge?<\/p>\n

That we may safely affirm.<\/p>\n

Then he who is to be a really good and noble guardian of the
\nnation will require to unite in himself philosophy and spirit and swiftness and
\nstrength?<\/p>\n

Undoubtedly.<\/p>\n

Then we
\nhave found the desired natures; and now that we have found them, how are they
\nto be reared and educated?<\/span>\u00a0 Is
\nnot this an enquiry which may be expected to throw light on the greater enquiry
\nwhich is our final end\u2013 How do justice and injustice grow up in\u00a0 nations?
\nfor we do not want either to omit what is to the point or to draw out
\nthe argument to an inconvenient length.<\/p>\n

Adeimantus thought that the enquiry would be of great
\nservice to us.<\/p>\n

Then, I said, my dear friend, the task must not be given up,
\neven if somewhat long.<\/p>\n

Certainly not.<\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/div>\n

\u00a0[ds1]<\/a> Barest notion of a nation<\/p>\n

\u00a0[ds2]<\/a>division of labor<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Excerpts about Education and Nations From \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03b1 (Politica) by Socrates and Plato \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Education \u00a0 \u00a0 Come then, and let us pass a leisure hour in story-telling, and our story shall be the education of our heroes. By all means. And what shall be their education?\u00a0 Can we find a better than the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":164,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-5797","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/factbasedhistory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/5797"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/factbasedhistory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/factbasedhistory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/factbasedhistory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/164"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/factbasedhistory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5797"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/factbasedhistory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/5797\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5812,"href":"https:\/\/factbasedhistory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/5797\/revisions\/5812"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/factbasedhistory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5797"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}