Let us assume, then, a man who possesses wisdom about the nature of justice itself, and reason in accordance with his wisdom, and has the same kind of knowledge of all other things.
Agreed.
Now will this man have sufficient knowledge, if he is master of the theory of the divine circle and sphere, but is ignorant of our human sphere and human circles, even when he uses these
and other kinds of rules or patterns in building houses?
We call that a ridiculous state of intellect in a man, Socrates, which is concerned only with divine knowledge.
What? Do you mean to say that the uncertain and impure art of the false rule and circle is to be put into our mixture?
Yes, that is inevitable, if any man is ever to find his own way home.
And must we add music, which we said a little while ago
was full of guesswork and imitation and lacked purity?
Yes, I think we must, if our life is to be life at all.
Shall I, then, like a doorkeeper who is pushed and hustled by a mob, give up, open the door, and let all the kinds of knowledge stream in, the impure mingling with the pure?
I do not know, Socrates, what harm it can do a man to take in all the other kinds of knowledge if he has the first.
Shall I, then, let them all flow into what Homer very poetically calls the mingling of the vales?Hom. Il. 4.453.
Certainly.
They are let in; and now we must turn again to the spring of pleasure. For our original plan for making the mixture, by taking first the true parts, did not succeed; because of our love of knowledge,
we let all kinds of knowledge in together before pleasure.
Very true.
So now it is time for us to consider about pleasures also, whether these, too, shall be all let loose together, or we shall let only the true ones loose at first.
It is much safer to let loose the true first.
We will let them loose, then. But what next? If there are any necessary pleasures, as there were kinds of knowledge, must we not mix them with the true?
Of course; the necessary pleasures must certainly be added.
And as we said it was harmless and useful to know all the arts throughout our life, if we now say the same of pleasures—that is, if it is advantageous and harmless for us to enjoy all pleasures throughout life—they must all form part of the mixture.
What shall we say about these pleasures, and what shall we do?
There is no use in asking us, Protarchus; we must ask the pleasures and the arts and sciences themselves
about one another.
What shall we ask them?
Dear ones—whether you should be called pleasures or by any other name—would you choose to dwell with all wisdom, or with none at all? I think only one reply is possible.
What is it?
What we said before: For any class to be alone, solitary, and unalloyed is neither altogether possible nor is it profitable; but of all classes,
comparing them one with another, we think the best to live with is the knowledge of all other things and, so far as is possible, the perfect knowledge of our individual selves.
Your reply is excellent, we shall tell them.
Right. And next we must turn to wisdom and mind, and question them. We shall ask them, Do you want any further pleasures in the mixture? And they might reply, What pleasures?
Quite likely.
Then we should go on to say: In addition to those true pleasures, do you want the greatest and most intense pleasures also to dwell with you?How can we want them, Socrates, they might perhaps say, since they contain countless hindrances for us, inasmuch as they disturb with maddening pleasures the souls of men in which we dwell, thereby preventing us from being born at all, and utterly destroying
for the most part, through the carelessness and forgetfulness which they engender, those of our children which are born?
But the true and pure pleasures, of which you spoke, you must consider almost our own by nature, and also those which are united with health and self-restraint, and furthermore all those which are handmaids of virtue in general and follow everywhere in its train as if it were a god,—add these to the mixture; but as for the pleasures which follow after folly and all baseness, it would be very senseless for anyone who desires to discover the most beautiful and most restful mixture or compound,
and to try to learn which of its elements is good in man and the universe, and what we should divine its nature to be, to mix these with mind. Shall we not say that this reply which mind has now made for itself and memory and right opinion is wise and reasonable?
Certainly.
But another addition is surely necessary, without which nothing whatsoever can ever come into being.
What is it?
That in which there is no admixture of truth can never truly come into being or exist.
No, of course not.
No. But if anything is still wanting in our mixture, you and Philebus must speak of it. For to me it seems that our argument is now completed, as it were an incorporeal order which shall rule nobly a living body.
And you may say, Socrates, that I am of the same opinion.
And if we were to say that we are now in the vestibule of the good and of the dwelling of the good, should we not be speaking the truth after a fashion?
I certainly think so.
What element, then, of the mixture would appear to us to be the most precious and also the chief cause why such a state is beloved of all? When we have discovered this, we will then consider whether it is more closely attached and more akin to pleasure or to mind in the universe.
Right; for that is most serviceable to us in forming our judgement.
And it is quite easy to see the cause which makes any mixture whatsoever either of the highest value or of none at all.
What do you mean?
Why, everybody knows that.
Knows what?
That any compound, however made, which lacks measure and proportion, must necessarily destroy its components and first of all itself;
for it is in truth no compound, but an uncompounded jumble, and is always a misfortune to those who possess it.
Perfectly true.
So now the power of the good has taken refuge in the nature of the beautiful; for measure and proportion are everywhere identified with beauty and virtue.
Certainly.
We said that truth also was mingled with them in the compound.