Republic

Consider further, Socrates, another kind of language about justice and injustice employed by both laymen and poets. All with one accord reiterate that soberness and righteousness are fair and honorable, to be sure, but unpleasant and laborious, while licentiousness and injustice are pleasant and easy to win and are only in opinion and by convention disgraceful. They say that injustice pays better than justice, for the most part, and they do not scruple to felicitate bad men who are rich or have other kinds of power to do them honor in public and private, and to dishonor and disregard those who are in any way weak or poor, even while admitting that they are better men than the others. But the strangest of all these speeches are the things they say about the gods[*](The gnomic poets complain that bad men prosper for a time, but they have faith in the late punishment of the wicked and the final triumph of justice.) and virtue, how so it is that the gods themselves assign to many good men misfortunes and an evil life but to their opposites a contrary lot; and begging priests[*](There is a striking analogy between Plato’s language here and the description by Protestant historians of the sale of indulgences by Tetzel in Germany. Rich men’s doors is proverbial. Cf. 489 B.) and soothsayers go to rich men’s doors and make them believe that they by means of sacrifices and incantations have accumulated a treasure of power from the gods[*](Cf. Mill, Utility of Religion, Three Essays on Religion, p. 90: All positive religions aid this self-delusion. Bad religions teach that divine vengeance may be bought off by offerings or personal abasement. Plato, Laws 885 D, anticipates Mill. With the whole passage compare the scenes at the founding of Cloudcuckootown, Aristophanes Birds 960-990, and more seriously the medieval doctrine of the treasure of the church and the Hindu tapas.) that can expiate and cure with pleasurable festivals any misdeed of a man or his ancestors, and that if a man wishes to harm an enemy, at slight cost he will be enabled to injure just and unjust alike, since they are masters of spells and enchantments[*](In Laws 933 D both are used of the victim with ἐπῳδαῖς, which primarily applies to the god. Cf. Lucan, Phars. vi. 492 and 527.) that constrain the gods to serve their end. And for all these sayings they cite the poets as witnesses, with regard to the ease and plentifulness of vice, quoting:

1. Evil-doing in plenty a man shall find for the seeking;

1. Smooth is the way and it lies near at hand and is easy to enter;
2. But on the pathway of virtue the gods put sweat from the first step,

1. The gods themselves are moved by prayers,
2. And men by sacrifice and soothing vows,

1. And incense and libation turn their wills
2. Praying, whenever they have sinned and made transgression.

And they produce a bushel[*](ὅμαδον, lit. noise, hubbub, babel, here contemptuous. There is no need of the emendation ὁπμαθόν. Cf. 387 A, and Kern, Orphicorum Fragmenta, p. 82; cf. John Morley, Lit. Studies, p. 184, A bushel of books.) of books of Musaeus and Orpheus, the offspring of the Moon and of the Muses, as they affirm, and these books they use in their ritual, and make not only ordinary men but states believe that there really are remissions of sins and purifications for deeds of injustice, by means of sacrifice and pleasant sport[*](Cf. Laws 819 B.) for the living, and that there are also special rites for the defunct, which they call functions, that deliver us from evils in that other world, while terrible things await those who have neglected to sacrifice. What, Socrates, do we suppose is the effect of all such sayings about the esteem in which men and gods hold virtue and vice upon the souls that hear them, the souls of young men who are quick-witted and capable of flitting, as it were, from one expression of opinion to another and inferring from them all the character and the path whereby a man would lead the best life? Such a youth[*](Cf. Unity of Plato’s Thought, p. 25: His (Plato’s) imagination was beset by the picture of some brilliant young Alcibiades standing at the crossways of life and debating in his mind whether the best chance for happiness lay in accepting the conventional moral law that serves to police the vulgar or in giving rein to the instincts and appetites of his own stronger nature. To confute the one, to convince the other, became to him the main problem of moral philosophy. Cf. Introduction x-xi; also The Idea of Good in Plato’s Republic, p. 214.) would most likely put to himself the question Pindar asks,

Is it by justice or by crooked deceit that I the higher tower shall scale and so live my life out in fenced and guarded security?

the seeming

masters the reality

And if we are to believe them, the thing to do is to commit injustice and offer sacrifice from fruits of our wrongdoing.[*](Cf. Verres’ distribution of his three years’ spoliation of Sicily, Cicero In C. Verrem actio prima 14 (40), and Plato Laws 906 C-D, Lysias xxvii. 6.) For if we are just, we shall, it is true, be unscathed by the gods, but we shall be putting away from us the profits of injustice; but if we are unjust, we shall win those profits, and, by the importunity of our prayers, when we transgress and sin, we shall persuade them and escape scot-free. Yes, it will be objected, but we shall be brought to judgement in the world below for our unjust deeds here, we or our children’s children. Nay, my dear sir, our calculating friend[*](His morality is the hedonistic calculus of the Protagoras or the commercial religion of other-wordliness.) will say, here again the rites for the dead[*](For these τελεταί cf. 365 A.) have much efficacy, and the absolving divinities, as the greatest cities declare, and the sons of gods, who became the poets and prophets[*](Or rather mouthpieces.) of the gods, and who reveal that this is the truth. On what further ground, then, could we prefer justice to supreme injustice? If we combine this with a counterfeit decorum, we shall prosper to our heart’s desire, with gods and men in life and death, as the words of the multitude and of men of the highest authority declare. In consequence, then, of all that has been said, what possibility is there, Socrates, that any man who has the power of any resources of mind, money, body, or family should consent to honor justice and not rather laugh[*](Aristophanes Clouds 1241.) when he hears her praised? In sooth, if anyone is able to show the falsity of these arguments, and has come to know with sufficient assurance that justice is best, he feels much indulgence for the unjust, and is not angry with them, but is aware that except a man by inborn divinity of his nature disdains injustice, or, having won to knowledge, refrains from it, no one else is willingly just, but that it is from lack of manly spirit or from old age or some other weakness[*](Cf. Gorgias 492 A.) that men dispraise injustice, lacking the power to practise it. The fact is patent. For no sooner does such one come into the power than he works injustice to the extent of his ability. And the sole cause of all this is the fact that was the starting-point of this entire plea of my friend here and of myself to you, Socrates, pointing out how strange it is that of all you self-styled advocates of justice, from the heroes of old whose discourses survive to the men of the present day, not one has ever censured injustice or commended justice otherwise than in respect of the repute, the honors, and the gifts that accrue from each. But what each one of them is in itself, by its own inherent force, when it is within the soul of the possessor and escapes the eyes of both gods and men, no one has ever adequately set forth in poetry or prose—the proof that the one is the greatest of all evils that the soul contains within itself, while justice is the greatest good.

For if you had all spoken in this way from the beginning and from our youth up had sought to convince us, we should not now be guarding against one another’s injustice, but each would be his own best guardian, for fear lest by working injustice he should dwell in communion with the greatest of evils.[*](Cf. 363 E.) This, Socrates, and perhaps even more than this, Thrasymachus and haply another might say in pleas for and against justice and injustice, inverting their true potencies, as I believe, grossly. But I— for I have no reason to hide anything from you—am laying myself out to the utmost on the theory, because I wish to hear its refutation from you. Do not merely show us by argument that justice is superior to injustice, but make clear to us what each in and of itself does to its possessor, whereby the one is evil and the other good. But do away with the repute of both, as Glaucon urged. For, unless you take away from either the true repute and attach to each the false, we shall say that it is not justice that you are praising but the semblance, nor injustice that you censure, but the seeming, and that you really are exhorting us to be unjust but conceal it, and that you are at one with Thrasymachus in the opinion that justice is other man’s good,[*](Cf. 343 C.) the advantage of the other, and that injustice is advantageous and profitible to oneself but disadvantageous to the inferior. Since, then, you have admitted that justice belongs to the class of those highest goods which are desirable both for their consequences and still more for their own sake, as sight, hearing, intelligence, yes and health too, and all other goods that are productive[*](Adam’s note on γόνιμα: i.q. γνήσια is, I think, wrong.) by their very nature and not by opinion, this is what I would have you praise about justice—the benefit which it and the harm which injustice inherently works upon its possessor. But the rewards and the honors that depend on opinion, leave to others to praise. For while I would listen to others who thus commended justice and disparaged injustice, bestowing their praise and their blame on the reputation and the rewards of either, I could not accept that sort of thing from you unless you say I must, because you have passed your entire life[*](Cf. 506 C.) in the consideration of this very matter. Do not then, I repeat, merely prove to us in argument the superiority of justice to injustice, but show us what it is that each inherently does to its possessor—whether he does or does not escape the eyes of gods and men—whereby the one is good and the other evil.

While I had always admired the natural parts of Glaucon and Adeimantus, I was especially pleased by their words on this occasion, and said:

1. It was excellently spoken of you, sons of the man we know,

Sons of Ariston,[*](The implied pun on the name is made explicit in 580 C-D. Some have held that Glaucon and Adeimantus were uncles of Plato, but Zeller decides for the usual view that they wre brothers. Cf. Ph. d. Gr. ii. 1, 4th ed. 1889, p. 392, and Abhandl. d. Berl. Akad., 1873, Hist.-Phil Kl. pp. 86 ff.) whose race from a glorious sire is god-like.

Then, perhaps, there would be more justice in the larger object and more easy to apprehend. If it please you, then, let us first look for its quality in states, and then only examine it also in the individual, looking for the likeness of the greater in the form of the less.I think that is a good suggestion, he said. If, then, said I, our argument should observe the origin[*](Lit., coming into being. Cf. Introduction p. xiv. So Aristotle Politics i. 1, but iv. 4 he criticizes Plato.) of a state, we should see also the origin of justice and injustice in it. It may be, said he. And if this is done, we may expect to find more easily what we are seeking? Much more. Shall we try it, then, and go through with it? I fancy it is no slight task. Reflect, then. We have reflected,[*](C’est tout reflechi.) said Adeimantus; proceed and don’t refuse. The origin of the city, then, said I, in my opinion, is to be found in the fact that we do not severally suffice for our own needs,[*](Often imitated, as e.g. Hooker, Eccles. Pol. i. 10: Forasmuch as we are not by ourselves sufficient to furnish ourselves with a competent store of things needful for such a life as our nature doth desire . . . therefore to supply these defects . . . we are naturally inclined to seek communion and fellowship with others; this was the cause of men uniting themselves at first in civil societies.) but each of us lacks many things. Do you think any other principle establishes the state? No other, said he. As a result of this, then, one man calling in another for one service and another for another, we, being in need of many things, gather many into one place of abode as associates and helpers, and to this dwelling together we give the name city or state, do we not? By all means. And between one man and another there is an interchange of giving, if it so happens, and taking, because each supposes this to be better for himself. Certainly. Come, then, let us create a city from the beginning, in our theory. Its real creator, as it appears, will be our needs. Obviously. Now the first and chief of our needs is the provision of food for existence and life.[*](Aristotle says that the city comes into being for the sake of life, but exists for the sake of the good life, which, of course, is also Plato’s view of the true raison d’etre of the state. Cf. Laws 828 D and Crito 48 B.)Assuredly. The second is housing and the third is raiment and that sort of thing. That is so. Tell me, then, said I, how our city will suffice for the provision of all these things. Will there not be a farmer for one, and a builder, and then again a weaver? And shall we add thereto a cobbler and some other purveyor for the needs of body? Certainly. The indispensable minimum of a city, then, would consist of four or five men. Apparently.

What of this, then? Shall each of these contribute his work for the common use of all? I mean shall the farmer, who is one, provide food for four and spend fourfold time and toil on the production of food and share it with the others, or shall he take no thought for them and provide a fourth portion of the food for himself alone in a quarter of the time and employ the other three-quarters, the one in the provision of a house, the other of a garment, the other of shoes, and not have the bother of associating with other people, but, himself for himself, mind his own affairs?[*](It is characteristic of Plato’s drama of ideas to give this kind of rhetorical advantage to the expression of the view that he intends to reject. In what follows Plato anticipates the advantages of the division of labor as set forth in Adam Smith, with the characteristic exception of its stimulus to new inventions. Cf. Introduction xv.) And Adeimantus said, But, perhaps, Socrates, the former way is easier. It would not, by Zeus, be at all strange, said I; for now that you have mentioned it, it occurs to me myself that, to begin with, our several natures are not all alike but different. One man is naturally fitted for one task, and another for another. Don’t you think so? I do. Again, would one man do better working at many tasks or one at one? One at one, he said. And, furthermore, this, I fancy, is obvious—that if one lets slip the right season, the favorable moment in any task, the work is spoiled. Obvious. That, I take it, is because the business will not wait upon the leisure of the workman, but the workman must attend to it as his main affair, and not as a by-work. He must indeed. The result, then, is that more things are produced, and better and more easily when one man performs one task according to his nature, at the right moment, and at leisure from other occupations. By all means. Then, Adeimantus, we need more than four citizens for the provision of the things we have mentioned. For the farmer, it appears, will not make his own plough if it is to be a good one, nor his hoe, nor his other agricultural implements, nor will the builder, who also needs many; and similarly the weaver and cobbler. True. Carpenters, then, and smiths and many similar craftsmen, associating themselves with our hamlet, will enlarge it considerably. Certainly. Yet it still wouldn’t be very large even if we should add to them neat-herds and shepherds and other herders, so that the farmers might have cattle for ploughing,[*](Butcher’s meat and pork appear first in the luxurious city, 373 C. We cannot infer that Plato was a vegetarian.) and the builders oxen to use with the farmers for transportation, and the weavers and cobblers hides and fleeces for their use. It wouldn’t be a small city, either, if it had all these. But further, said I, it is practically impossible to establish the city in a region where it will not need imports. It is. There will be a further need, then, of those who will bring in from some other city what it requires. There will.

And again, if our servitor goes forth empty-handed, not taking with him any of the things needed by those from whom they procure what they themselves require, he will come back with empty hands, will he not?I think so.Then their home production must not merely suffice for themselves but in quality and quantity meet the needs of those of whom they have need.It must.So our city will require more farmers and other craftsmen.Yes, more.And also of other ministrants who are to export and import the merchandise. These are traders, are they not?Yes.We shall also need traders, then.Assuredly.And if the trading is carried on by sea, we shall need quite a number of others who are expert in maritime business.Quite a number.But again, within the city itself how will they share with one another the products of their labor? This was the very purpose of our association and establishment of a state.Obviously, he said, by buying and selling. A market-place, then, and money as a token[*](Aristotle adds that the medium of exchange must of itself have value (Politics 1257 a 36).) for the purpose of exchange will be the result of this. By all means. If, then, the farmer or any other craftsman taking his products to the market-place does not arrive at the same time with those who desire to exchange with him, is he to sit idle in the market-place and lose time from his own work? By no means, he said, but there are men who see this need and appoint themselves for this service—in well-conducted cities they are generally those who are weakest[*](Similarly in Laws 918-920.) in body and those who are useless for any other task. They must wait there in the agora and exchange money for goods with those who wish to sell, and goods for money with as many as desire to buy. This need, then, said I, creates the class of shopkeepers in our city. Or is not shopkeepers the name we give to those who, planted in the agora, serve us in buying and selling, while we call those who roam from city to city merchants? Certainly. And there are, furthermore, I believe, other servitors who in the things of the mind are not altogether worthy of our fellowship, but whose strength of body is sufficient for toil; so they, selling the use of this strength and calling the price wages, are designated, I believe, wage-earners, are they not? Certainly. Wage-earners, then, it seems, are the complement that helps to fill up the state.[*](Aristotle (Politics 1254 b 18) says that those, the use of whose bodies is the best they have to offer, are by nature slaves. Cf Jesus of Sirach xxxviii. 36 ἄνευ αὐτῶν οὐκ οἰκισθήσεται πόλις. So Carlyle, and Shakespeare on Caliban: We cannot miss him (Tempest, I. ii).) I think so. Has our city, then, Adeimantus, reached its full growth and is it complete? Perhaps. Where, then, can justice and injustice be found in it? And along with which of the constituents that we have considered does it come into the state?

I cannot conceive, Socrates, he said, unless it be in some need that those very constituents have of one another. Perhaps that is a good suggestion, said I; we must examine it and not hold back. First of all, then, let us consider what will be the manner of life of men thus provided. Will they not make bread and wine and garments and shoes? And they will build themselves houses and carry on their work in summer for the most part unclad and unshod and in winter clothed and shod sufficiently? And for their nourishment they will provide meal from their barley and flour from their wheat, and kneading and cooking these they will serve noble cakes and loaves on some arrangement of reeds or clean leaves, and, reclined on rustic beds strewn with bryony and myrtle, they will feast with their children, drinking of their wine thereto, garlanded and singing hymns to the gods in pleasant fellowship, not begetting offspring beyond their means lest they fall into poverty or war? Here Glaucon broke in: No relishes[*](ὄψον is anything eaten with bread, usually meat or fish, as Glaucon means; but Socrates gives it a different sense.) apparently, he said, for the men you describe as feasting. True said I; I forgot that they will also have relishes—salt, of course, and olives and cheese and onions and greens, the sort of things they boil in the country, they will boil up together. But for dessert we will serve them figs and chickpeas and beans, and they will toast myrtle-berries and acorns before the fire, washing them down with moderate potations and so, living in peace and health, they will probably die in old age and hand on a like life to their offspring. And he said, If you were founding a city of pigs,[*](Cf. Introduction p. xiv. By the mouth of the fine gentleman, Glaucon, Plato expresses with humorous exaggeration his own recognition of the inadequacy for ethical and social philosophy of his idyllic ideal. Cf. Mandeville, Preface to Fable of the Bees: A golden age must be as free/ For acorns as for honesty.) Socrates, what other fodder than this would you provide? Why, what would you have, Glaucon? said I. What is customary, he replied; They must recline on couches, I presume, if they are not to be uncomfortable, and dine from tables and have made dishes and sweetmeats such as are now in use. Good, said I, I understand. It is not merely the origin of a city, it seems, that we are considering but the origin of a luxurious city. Perhaps that isn’t such a bad suggestion, either. For by observation of such a city it may be we could discern the origin of justice and injustice in states. The true state I believe to be the one we have described—the healthy state, as it were. But if it is your pleasure that we contemplate also a fevered state, there is nothing to hinder.

For there are some, it appears, who will not be contented with this sort of fare or with this way of life; but couches will have to be added thereto and tables and other furniture, yes, and relishes and myrrh and incense and girls[*](On flute-girls as the accompaniment of a banquet Cf. Symposium 176 E, Aristophanes Ach. 1090-1092, Catullus 13. 4. But apart from this, the sudden mention of an incongruous item in a list is a device of Aristophanic humor which even the philosophic Emerson did not disdain: The love of little maids and berries.) and cakes—all sorts of all of them. And the requirements we first mentioned, houses and garments and shoes, will no longer be confined to necessities,[*](τὰ ἁναγκαῖα predicatively, in the measure prescribed by necessity. Cf. 369 D the indispensable minimum of a city. The historical order is: (1) arts of necessity, (2) arts of pleasure and luxury, (3) disinterested science. Cf. Critias 110 A, Aristotle Met. 981 b 20.) but we must set painting to work and embroidery, and procure gold and ivory and similar adornments, must we not?Yes, he said. Then we shall have to enlarge the city again. For that healthy state is no longer sufficient, but we must proceed to swell out its bulk and fill it up with a multitude of things that exceed the requirements of necessity in states, as, for example, the entire class of huntsmen, and the imitators,[*](θηρευταί and μιμηταί are generalized Platonic categories, including much not ordinarily signified by the words. For a list of such Platonic generalizations Cf. Unity of Plato’s Thought, note 500.) many of them occupied with figures and colors and many with music—the poets and their assistants, rhapsodists, actors, chorus-dancers, contractors[*](Contractors generally, and especially theatrical managers.)—and the manufacturers of all kinds of articles, especially those that have to do with women’s adornment. And so we shall also want more servitors. Don’t you think that we shall need tutors, nurses wet[*](The mothers of the idyllic state nursed their own children, but in the ideal state the wives of the guardians are relieved of this burden by special provision. Cf. 460 D.) and dry, beauty-shop ladies, barbers[*](The rhetoricians of the empire liked to repeat that no barber was known at Rome in the first 200 or 300 years of the city.) and yet again cooks and chefs? And we shall have need, further, of swineherds; there were none of these creatures[*](Illogical idiom referring to the swine. Cf. 598 C.) in our former city, for we had no need of them, but in this city there will be this further need; and we shall also require other cattle in great numbers if they are to be eaten, shall we not? Yes. Doctors, too, are something whose services[*](χρείαις: Greek idiom could use either singular or plural. Cf. 410 A; Phaedo 87 C; Laws 630 E. The plural here avoids hiatus.) we shall be much more likely to require if we live thus than as before? Much. And the territory, I presume, that was then sufficient to feed the then population, from being adequate will become too small. Is that so or not? It is. Then we shall have to cut out a cantle[*](Cf. Isocrates iii. 34.) of our neighbor’s land if we are to have enough for pasture and ploughing, and they in turn of ours if they too abandon themselves to the unlimited[*](Cf. 591 D. Natural desires are limited. Luxury and unnatural forms of wealth are limitless, as the Greek moralists repeat from Solon down.) acquisition of wealth, disregarding the limit set by our necessary wants. Inevitably, Socrates. We shall go to war[*](The unnecessary desires are the ultimate causes of wars.Phaedo 66 C. The simple life once abandoned, war is inevitable. My lord, said St. Francis to the Bishop of Assisi, if we possessed property we should have need of arms for its defense (Sabatier, p. 81). Similarly that very dissimilar thinker, Mandeville. Cf. on 372 C. Plato recognizes the struggle for existence (Spencer, Data of Ethics, 6), and the bellum omnium contra omnes, Laws 625 E. Cf. Sidgwick, Method of Ethics, i, 2: The Republic of Plato seems in many respects divergent from the reality. And yet he contemplates war as a permanent, unalterable fact to be provided for in the ideal state. Spencer on the contrary contemplates a completely evolved society in which the ethics of militarism will disappear.) as the next step, Glaucon—or what will happen? What you say, he said. And we are not yet to speak, said I, of any evil or good effect of war, but only to affirm that we have further[*](i.e. as well as the genesis of society. 369 B.) discovered the origin of war, namely, from those things from which[*](ἐξ ὧν: i.e. ἐκ τούτων ἐξ ὧν, namely the appetites and the love of money.) the greatest disasters, public and private, come to states when they come. Certainly.

Then, my friend, we must still further enlarge our city by no small increment, but by a whole army, that will march forth and fight it out with assailants in defence of all our wealth and the luxuries we have just described.How so? he said; are the citizens themselves[*](Cf. 567 E τί δέ; αὐτόθεν. In the fourth century it was found that amateur soldiers could not compete with professionals, and war became a trade (Butcher, Demosthenes p. 17). Plato arrives at the same result by his principle one man one task (370 A-B). He is not here making citizens synonymous with soldiers nor laconizing as Adam says.) not sufficient for it? Not if you, said I, and we all were right in the admission we made when we were molding our city. We surely agreed, if you remember, that it is impossible for one man to do the work of many arts well. True, he said. Well, then, said I, don’t you think that the business of fighting is an art and a profession? It is indeed, he said. Should our concern be greater, then, for the cobbler’s art than for the art of war? By no means. Can we suppose,[*](For the thought of this a fortiori or ex contrario argument cf. 421 A.) then, that while we were at pains to prevent the cobbler from attempting to be at the same time a farmer, a weaver, or a builder instead of just a cobbler, to the end that[*](ἵνα δή ironical.) we might have the cobbler’s business well done, and similarly assigned to each and every one man one occupation, for which he was fit and naturally adapted and at which he was to work all his days, at leisure[*](Cf. 370 B-C.) from other pursuits and not letting slip the right moments for doing the work well, and that yet we are in doubt whether the right accomplishment of the business of war is not of supreme moment? Is it so easy[*](The ironical argument ex contrario is continued with fresh illustrations to the end of the chapter.) that a man who is cultivating the soil will be at the same time a soldier and one who is practising cobbling or any other trade, though no man in the world could make himself a competent expert at draughts or the dice who did not practise that and nothing else from childhood[*](Cf. on 467 A.) but treated it as an occasional business? And are we to believe that a man who takes in hand a shield or any other instrument of war springs up on that very day a competent combatant in heavy armor or in any other form of warfare—though no other tool will make a man be an artist or an athlete by his taking it in hand, nor will it be of any service to those who have neither acquired the science[*](For the three requisites, science, practice, and natural ability Cf. Unity of Plato’s Thought, note 596, and my paper on Φύσις, Μελέτη, Ἐπιστήμη, Tr. A. Ph. A. vol. xl., 1910.) of it nor sufficiently practised themselves in its use? Great indeed, he said, would be the value of tools in that case.[*](Cf. Thucydides ii. 40.) Then, said I, in the same degree that the task of our guardians[*](First mention. Cf. 428 D note, 414 B.) is the greatest of all, it would require more leisure than any other business and the greatest science and training. I think so, said he. Does it not also require a nature adapted to that very pursuit? Of course. It becomes our task, then, it seems, if we are able, to select which and what kind of natures are suited for the guardianship of a state. Yes, ours. Upon my word, said I, it is no light task that we have taken upon ourselves. But we must not faint so far as our strength allows.

No, we mustn’t.Do you think, said I, that there is any difference between the nature of a well-bred hound for this watch-dog’s work and of a well-born lad? What point have you in mind? I mean that each of them must be keen of perception, quick in pursuit of what it has apprehended,[*](αἰσθανόμενον: present. There is no pause between perception and pursuit.) and strong too if it has to fight it out with its captive. Why, yes, said he, there is need of all these qualities. And it must, further, be brave[*](In common parlance. Philosophically speaking, no brute is brave. Laches 196 D, 430 B.) if it is to fight well. Of course. And will a creature be ready to be brave that is not high-spirited, whether horse or dog or anything else? Have you never observed what an irresistible and invincible thing is spirit,[*](Anger (or the heart’s desire?) buys its will at the price of life, as Heracleitus says (fr. 105 Bywater). Cf. Aristotle Eth. Nic. 1105 a 9, 1116 b 23.) the presence of which makes every soul in the face of everything fearless and unconquerable? I have. The physical qualities of the guardian, then, are obvious. Yes. And also those of his soul, namely that he must be of high spirit. Yes, this too. How then, Glaucon, said I, will they escape being savage to one another[*](Cf. Spencer, Psychology 511: Men cannot be kept unsympathetic towards external enemies without being kept unsympathetic towards internal enemies. For what follows cf. Dio Chrys. Or. i. 44 R., Julian, Or. ii. 86 D.) and to the other citizens if this is to be their nature? Not easily, by Zeus, said he. And yet we must have them gentle to their friends and harsh to their enemies; otherwise they will not await their destruction at the hands of others, but will be first themselves in bringing it about. True, he said. What, then, are we to do? said I. Where shall we discover a disposition that is at once gentle and great-spirited? For there appears to be an opposition[*](The contrast of the strenuous and gentle temperamnets is a chief point in Platonic ethics and education. Cf. Unity of Plato’s Thought, nn. 59, 70, 481.) between the spirited type and the gentle nature. There does. But yet if one lacks either of these qualities, a good guardian he never can be. But these requirements resemble impossibilities, and so the result is that a good guardian is impossible. It seems likely, he said. And I was at a standstill, and after reconsidering what we had been saying, I said, We deserve to be at a loss, my friend, for we have lost sight of the comparison that we set before ourselves.[*](Plato never really deduces his argument from the imagery which he uses to illustrate it.) What do you mean? We failed to note that there are after all such natures as we thought impossible, endowed with these opposite qualities. Where? It may be observed in other animals, but especially in that which we likened to the guardian. You surely have observed in well-bred hounds that their natural disposition is to be most gentle to their familiars and those whom they recognize, but the contrary to those whom they do not know. I am aware of that. The thing is possible, then, said I, and it is not an unnatural requirement that we are looking for in our guardian. It seems not. And does it seem to you that our guardian-to-be will also need, in addition to the being high-spirited, the further quality of having the love of wisdom in his nature?

How so? he said; I don’t apprehend your meaning. This too, said I, is something that you will discover in dogs and which is worth our wonder in the creature. What? That the sight of an unknown person angers him before he has suffered any injury, but an acquaintance he will fawn upon though he has never received any kindness from him. Have you never marvelled at that? I never paid any attention to the matter before now, but that he acts in some such way is obvious. But surely that is an exquisite trait of his nature and one that shows a true love of wisdom.[*](φιλόσοφον: etymologically here, as ὡς ἀληθῶς indicates. Your dog now is your only philosopher, says Plato, not more seriously than Rabelais (Prologue): Mais vistes vous oncques chien rencontrant quelque os medullaire: c’est comme dit Platon, lib. ii. de Rep., la beste du monde plus philosophe. Cf. Huxley, Hume , p. 104: The dog who barks furiously at a beggar will let a well-dressed man pass him without opposition. Has he not a general idea of rags and dirt associated with the idea of aversion? Dummler and others assume that Plato is satirizing the Cynics, but who were the Cynics in 380-370 B.C.?) In what respect, pray? In respect, said I, that he distinguishes a friendly from a hostile aspect by nothing save his apprehension of the one and his failure to recognize the other. How, I ask you,[*](καίτοι πῶς: humorous oratorical appeal. Cf. 360 C καίτοι.) can the love of learning be denied to a creature whose criterion of the friendly and the alien is intelligence and ignorance? It certainly cannot, he said. But you will admit, said I, that the love of learning and the love of wisdom are the same? The same, he said. Then may we not confidently lay it down in the case of man too, that if he is to be in some sort gentle to friends and familiars he must be by nature a lover of wisdom and of learning? Let us so assume, he replied. The love of wisdom, then, and high spirit and quickness and strength will be combined for us in the nature of him who is to be a good and true guardian of the state. By all means, he said. Such, then, I said, would be the basis[*](Cf. 343 E. ὑπάρχοι marks the basis of nature as opposed to teaching.) of his character. But the rearing of these men and their education, how shall we manage that? And will the consideration of this topic advance us in any way towards discerning what is the object of our entire inquiry—the origin of justice and injustice in a state—our aim must be to omit nothing of a sufficient discussion, and yet not to draw it out to tiresome length? And Glaucon’s brother replied, Certainly, I expect that this inquiry will bring us nearer to that end. Certainly, then, my dear Adeimantus, said I, we must not abandon it even if it prove to be rather long. No, we must not. Come, then, just as if we were telling stories or fables[*](Cf. Introduction pp. xxi-xxii, and Phaedrus 276 E.) and had ample leisure,[*](Plato likes to contrast the leisure of philosophy with the hurry of business and law. Cf. Theaetetus 172 C-D.) let us educate these men in our discourse. So we must. What, then, is our education?[*](For the abrupt question cf. 360 E. Plato here prescribes for all the guardians, or military class, the normal Greek education in music and gymnastics, purged of what he considers its errors. A higher philosophic education will prepare a selected few for the office of guardians par excellence or rulers. Quite unwarranted is the supposition that the higher education was not in Plato’s mind when he described the lower. Cf. 412 A, 429 D-430 C, 497 C-D, Unity of Plato’s Thought, n. 650.) Or is it hard to find a better than that which long time has discovered?[*](For this conservative argument Cf. Politicus 300 B, Laws 844 A.) Which is, I suppose, gymnastics for the body[*](Qualified in 410 C. μουσική is playing the lyre, music, poetry, letters, culture, philosophy, according to context.) and for the soul music. It is. And shall we not begin education in music earlier than in gymnastics? Of course. And under music you include tales, do you not? I do. And tales are of two species, the one true and the other false[*](A slight paradox to surprise attention.)? Yes.

And education must make use of both, but first of the false?I don’t understand your meaning.Don’t you understand, I said, that we begin by telling children fables, and the fable is, taken as a whole, false, but there is truth in it also? And we make use of fable with children before gymnastics. That is so. That, then, is what I meant by saying that we must take up music before gymnastics. You were right, he said. Do you not know, then, that the beginning in every task is the chief thing,[*](Cf. Laws 753 E, 765 E, Antiphon, fr. 134 Blass.) especially for any creature that is young and tender[*](Cf. Laws 664 B, and Shelley’s Specious names,Learned in soft childhood’s unsuspecting hour, perhaps derived from the educational philosophy of Rousseau.)? For it is then that it is best molded and takes the impression[*](The image became a commonplace. Cf. Theaetetus 191 D, Horace Epistles ii. 32. 8, the Stoic τύπωσις ἐν ψυχῇ, and Byron’s Wax to receive and marble to retain.) that one wishes to stamp upon it. Quite so. Shall we, then, thus lightly suffer[*](Cf. the censorship proposed in Laws 656 C. Plato’s criticism of the mythology is anticipated in part by Euripides, Xenophanes, Heracleitus, and Pythagoras. Cf. Decharme, Euripides and the Spirit of his Dramas, translated by James Loeb, chap. ii. Many of the Christian Fathers repeated his criticism almost verbatim.) our children to listen to any chance stories fashioned by any chance teachers and so to take into their minds opinions for the most part contrary to those that we shall think it desirable for them to hold when they are grown up? By no manner of means will we allow it. We must begin, then, it seems, by a censorship over our storymakers, and what they do well we must pass and what not, reject. And the stories on the accepted list we will induce nurses and mothers to tell to the children and so shape their souls by these stories far rather than their bodies by their hands. But most of the stories they now tell we must reject. What sort of stories? he said. The example of the greater stories, I said, will show us the lesser also. For surely the pattern must be the same and the greater and the less must have a like tendency. Don’t you think so? I do, he said; but I don’t apprehend which you mean by the greater, either. Those, I said, that Hesiod[*](Theogony 154-181.) and Homer and the other poets related. These, methinks, composed false stories which they told and still tell to mankind. Of what sort? he said; and what in them do you find fault? With that, I said, which one ought first and chiefly to blame, especially if the lie is not a pretty one. What is that? When anyone images badly in his speech the true nature of gods and heroes, like a painter whose portraits bear no resemblance to his models. It is certainly right to condemn things like that, he said; but just what do we mean and what particular things?

There is, first of all, I said, the greatest lie about the things of greatest concernment, which was no pretty invention of him who told how Uranus did what Hesiod says he did to Cronos, and how Cronos in turn took his revenge; and then there are the doings and sufferings of Cronos at the hands of his son. Even if they were true I should not think that they ought to be thus lightly told to thoughtless young persons. But the best way would be to bury them in silence, and if there were some necessity[*](Conservative feeling or caution prevents Plato from proscribing absolutely what may be a necccessary part of traditional or mystical religion.) for relating them, that only a very small audience should be admitted under pledge of secrecy and after sacrificing, not a pig,[*](The ordinary sacrifice at the Eleusinian mysteries. Cf. Aristophanes Acharn. 747, Peace 374-375; Walter Pater, Demeter and the Pig.) but some huge and unprocurable victim, to the end that as few as possible should have heard these tales. Why, yes, said he, such stories are hard sayings. Yes, and they are not to be told, Adeimantus, in our city, nor is it to be said in the hearing of a young man, that in doing the utmost wrong he would do nothing to surprise anybody, nor again in punishing his father’s[*](Plato does not sympathize with the Samuel Butlers of his day.) wrong-doings to the limit, but would only be following the example of the first and greatest of the gods.[*](The argument, whether used in jest or earnest, was a commonplace. Cf. Schmidt, Ethik der Griechen, i. 137, Laws 941 B, Aeschylus Eumenides 640-641, Terence Eunuchus 590 At quem deum! . . . ego homuncio hoc non facerem. The Neoplatonists met the criticism of Plato and the Christian Fathers by allegorizing or refining away the immoral parts of the mythology, but St. Augustine cleverly retorts (De Civ. Dei, ii. 7): Omnes enim . . . cultores talium deorum . . . magis intuentur quid Iupiter fecerit quam quid docuerit Plato.) No, by heaven, said he, I do not myself think that they are fit to be told. Neither must we admit at all, said I, that gods war with gods[*](Cf. the protest in the Euthyphro 6 B, beautifully translated by Ruskin, Aratra Pentelici 107: And think you that there is verily war with each other among the gods? And dreadful enmities and battles, such as the poets have told, and such as our painters set forth in graven sculpture to adorn all our sacred rites and holy places. Yes, and in the great Panathenaia themselves the Peplus full of such wild picturing, is carried up into the Acropolis—shall we say that these things are true, oh Euthyphron, right-minded friend?) and plot against one another and contend—for it is not true either— if we wish our future guardians to deem nothing more shameful than lightly to fall out with one another; still less must we make battles of gods and giants the subject for them of stories and embroideries,[*](On the Panathenaic πέπλος of Athena.) and other enmities many and manifold of gods and heroes toward their kith and kin. But if there is any likelihood of our persuading them that no citizen ever quarrelled with his fellow-citizen and that the very idea of it is an impiety, that is the sort of thing that ought rather to be said by their elders, men and women, to children from the beginning and as they grow older, and we must compel the poets to keep close to this in their compositions. But Hera’s fetterings[*](The title of a play by Epicharmus. The hurling of Hephaestus, Iliad i. 586-594.) by her son and the hurling out of heaven of Hephaestus by his father when he was trying to save his mother from a beating, and the battles of the gods[*]( Iliad xx. 1-74; xxi. 385-513.) in Homer’s verse are things that we must not admit into our city either wrought in allegory[*](ὑπόνοια: the older word for allegory; Plutarch, De Aud. Poet. 19 E. For the allegorical interpretation of Homer in Plato’s time cf. Jebb, Homer, p. 89, and Mrs. Anne Bates Hersman’s Chicago Dissertation: Studies in Greek Allegorical Interpretation.) or without allegory. For the young are not able to distinguish what is and what is not allegory, but whatever opinions are taken into the mind at that age are wont to prove indelible and unalterable. For which reason, maybe, we should do our utmost that the first stories that they hear should be so composed as to bring the fairest lessons of virtue to their ears. Yes, that is reasonable, he said; but if again someone should ask us to be specific and say what these compositions may be and what are the tales, what could we name?

And I replied, Adeimantus, we are not poets,[*](The poet, like the rhetorician (Politicus 304 D), is a ministerial agent of the royal or political art. So virtually Aristotle, Politics 1336 b.) you and I at present, but founders of a state. And to founders it pertains to know the patterns on which poets must compose their fables and from which their poems must not be allowed to deviate; but the founders are not required themselves to compose fables. Right, he said; but this very thing—the patterns or norms of right speech about the gods, what would they be? Something like this, I said. The true quality of God we must always surely attribute to him whether we compose in epic, melic, or tragic verse. We must. And is not God of course[*](The γε implies that God is good ex vi termini.) good in reality and always to be spoken of[*](It is charcteristic of Plato to distinguish the fact and the desirability of proclaiming it. The argument proceeds by the minute links which tempt to parody. Below τὸ ἀγαθόν, followed by οὐδ’ ἄρα . . . ὁ θεός, is in itself a refutation of the ontological identification in Plato of God and the Idea of Good. But the essential goodness of God is a commonplace of liberal and philosophical theology, from the Stoics to Whittier’s hymn, The Eternal Goodness.) as such? Certainly. But further, no good thing is harmful, is it? I think not. Can what is not harmful harm? By no means. Can that which does not harm do any evil? Not that either. But that which does no evil would not be cause of any evil either? How could it? Once more, is the good beneficent? Yes. It is the cause, then, of welfare? Yes. Then the good is not the cause of all things, but of things that are well it the cause—of things that are ill it is blameless. Entirely so, he said. Neither, then, could God, said I, since he is good, be, as the multitude say, the cause of all things, but for mankind he is the cause of few things, but of many things not the cause.[*](Anticipates the proclamation of the prophet in the final myth, 617 E: αἰτία ἑλομένου· θεὸς ἀναίτιος. The idea, elaborated in Cleanthes’ hymn to Zeus, may be traced back to the speech of the Homeric Zeus in Odyssey i. 33 ἐξ ἡμεῶν γάπ φασι κάκ’ ἔμμεναι. St. Thomas distinguishes: Deus est auctor mali quod est poena, non autem mali quod est culpa.) For good things are far fewer[*](A pessimistic commoplace more emphasized in the Laws than in the Republic. Cf. Laws 896 E, where the Manichean hypothesis of an evil world-soul is suggested.) with us than evil, and for the good we must assume no other cause than God, but the cause of evil we must look for in other things and not in God. What you say seems to me most true, he replied. Then, said I, we must not accept from Homer or any other poet the folly of such error as this about the gods when he says

1. Two urns stand on the floor of the palace of Zeus and are filled with
2. Dooms he allots, one of blessings, the other of gifts that are evil,

1. Now upon evil he chances and now again good is his portion,

1. Hunger devouring drives him, a wanderer over the wide world,

1. Zeus is dispenser alike of good and of evil to mortals.

But as to the violation of the oaths[*]( Iliad 4.69 ff.) and the truce by Pandarus, if anyone affirms it to have been brought about by the action of Athena and Zeus, we will not approve, nor that the strife and contention[*](ἔριν τε καὶ κρίσιν is used in Menexenus 237 C of the contest of the gods for Attica. Here it is generally taken of the Theomachy, Iliad xx. 1074, which begins with the summons of the gods to a council by Themis at the command of Zeus. It has also been understood, rather improbably, of the judgement of Paris.) of the gods was the doing of Themis and Zeus; nor again must we permit our youth to hear what Aeschylus says—

1. A god implants the guilty cause in men
2. When he would utterly destroy a house,

as, for example, a body by food and drink and toil, and plants[*](Cf. Laws 765 E.) by the heat of the sun and winds and similar influences—is it not true that the healthiest and strongest is least altered?Certainly.And is it not the soul that is bravest and most intelligent, that would be least disturbed[*](ταράξειε suggests the ἀταραξία of the sage in the later schools.) and altered by any external affection?Yes.And, again, it is surely true of all composite implements, edifices, and habiliments, by parity of reasoning, that those which are well made and in good condition are least liable to be changed by time and other influences.That is so.It is universally[*](πᾶν δή generalizes from the preceding exhaustive enumeration of cases. Cf. 382 E, Parmenides 139 A.) true, then, that that which is in the best state by nature or art or both admits least alteration by something else.So it seems.But God, surely, and everything that belongs to God is in every way in the best possible state.Of course.From this point of view, then, it would be least of all likely that there would be many forms in God.Least indeed.But would he transform and alter himself?Obviously, he said, if he is altered. Then does he change himself for the better and to something fairer, or for the worse[*](So Aristotle Met. 1074 b 26.) and to something uglier than himself? It must necessarily, said he, be for the worse if he is changed. For we surely will not say that God is deficient in either beauty or excellence. Most rightly spoken, said I. And if that were his condition, do you think, Adeimantus, that any one god or man would of his own will worsen himself in any way? Impossible, he replied. It is impossible then, said I, even for a god to wish to alter himself, but, as it appears, each of them being the fairest and best possible abides[*](Cf. Tim. 42 E ἔμενεν, which suggested the Neoplatonic and Miltonic paradox that the divine abides even when it goes forth.) for ever simply in his own form. An absolutely necessary conclusion to my thinking. No poet then, I said, my good friend, must be allowed to tell us that

1. The gods, in the likeness of strangers,
2. Many disguises assume as they visit the cities of mortals.

1. for the life-giving sons of Inachus, the Argive stream.

Consider, said I; would a god wish to deceive, or lie, by presenting in either word or action what is only appearance? I don’t know, said he. Don’t you know, said I, that the veritable lie, if the expression is permissible, is a thing that all gods and men abhor? What do you mean? he said. This, said I, that falsehood in the most vital part of themselves, and about their most vital concerns, is something that no one willingly accepts, but it is there above all that everyone fears it. I don’t understand yet either. That is because you suspect me of some grand meaning, I said; but what I mean is, that deception in the soul about realities, to have been deceived and to be blindly ignorant and to have and hold the falsehood there, is what all men would least of all accept, and it is in that case that they loathe it most of all. Quite so, he said. But surely it would be most wholly right, as I was just now saying, to describe this as in very truth falsehood—ignorance namely in the soul of the man deceived. For the falsehood in words is a copy[*](Cf. Aristotle De Interp. 1. 12 ἔστι μὲν οὖν τὰ ἐν τῇ φωνῇ τῶν ἐν τῇ ψυχῇ παθημάτων σύμβολα. Cf. also Cratylus 428 D, 535 E, Laws730 C, Bacon, Of Truth: But it is not the lie that passes through the mind but the lie that sinketh in and settleth in it that doth the hurt.) of the affection in the soul, an after-rising image of it and not an altogether unmixed falsehood. Is not that so? By all means. Essential falsehood, then, is hated not only by gods but by men. I agree. But what of the falsehood in words, when and for whom is it serviceable so as not to merit abhorrence? Will it not be against enemies? And when any of those whom we call friends owing to madness or folly attempts to do some wrong, does it not then become useful to avert the evil—as a medicine? And also in the fables of which we were just now speaking owing to our ignorance of the truth about antiquity, we liken the false to the true as far as we may and so make it edifying.[*](Cf. Phaedrus 245 A μυρία τῶν παλαιῶν ἔργα κοσμοῦσα τοὺς ἐπιγιγνομένους παιδεύει, Isocrates xii. 149 and Livy’s Preface. For χρήσιμον Cf. Politicus 274 E. We must not infer that Plato is trying to sophisticate away the moral virtue of truth-telling.) We most certainly do, he said. Tell me, then, on which of these grounds falsehood would be serviceable to God. Would he because of his ignorance of antiquity make false likenesses of it? An absurd supposition, that, he said. Then there is no lying poet in God. I think not. Well then, would it be through fear of his enemies that he would lie? Far from it. Would it be because of the folly or madness of his friends? Nay, no fool or madman is a friend of God. Then there is no motive for God to deceive. None. From every point of view[*](Generalizing from the exhaustive classification that precedes.) the divine and the divinity are free from falsehood. By all means.

Then God is altogether simple and true in deed and word, and neither changes himself nor deceives others by visions or words or the sending of signs in waking or in dreams.I myself think so, he said, when I hear you say it. You concur then, I said, this as our second norm or canon for speech and poetry about the gods,—that they are neither wizards in shape-shifting nor do they mislead us by falsehoods in words or deed? I concur. Then, though there are many other things that we praise in Homer, this we will not applaud, the sending of the dream by Zeus[*](Hom. Il. 2.1-34. This apparent attribution of falsehood to Zeus was an Homeric problem which some solved by a change of accent from δίδομεν to διδόμεν. Cf. Aristotle Poetics 1462 a 22.) to Agamemnon, nor shall we approve of Aeschylus when his Thetis[*](Cf. Aeschylus Frag. 350. Possibly from the Ὅπλων κπίσις.) avers that Apollo singing at her wedding,

foretold the happy fortunes of her issue

1. Their days prolonged, from pain and sickness free,
2. And rounding out the tale of heaven’s blessings,
3. Raised the proud paean, making glad my heart.
4. And I believed that Phoebus’ mouth divine,
5. Filled with the breath of prophecy, could not lie.
6. But he himself, the singer, himself who sat
7. At meat with us, himself who promised all,
8. Is now himself the slayer of my son.