Laws

Ath. And often we fear reputation, when we think we shall gain a bad repute for doing or saying something base; and this fear we (like everybody else, I imagine) call shame.

Clin. Of course.

Ath. These are the two fears I was meaning; and of these the second is opposed to pains and to all other objects of fear, and opposed also to the greatest and most numerous pleasures.[*](i.e. shame, which is fear of disgrace, induces fortitude under pain and the power of resisting vicious pleasures.)

Clin. Very true.

Ath. Does not, then, the lawgiver, and every man who is worth anything, hold this kind of fear in the highest honor, and name it modesty; and to the confidence which is opposed to it does he not give the name immodesty, and pronounce it to be for all, both publicly and privately, a very great evil?

Clin. Quite right.

Ath. And does not this fear, besides saving us in many other important respects, prove more effective than anything else in ensuring for us victory in war and security? For victory is, in fact, ensured by two things, of which the one is confidence towards enemies, the other, fear of the shame of cowardice in the eyes of friends.

Clin. That is so.

Ath. Thus each one of us ought to become both fearless and fearful; and that for the several reasons we have now explained.

Clin. Certainly.

Ath. Moreover, when we desire to make a person fearless in respect of a number of fears, it is by drawing him, with the help of the law, into fear that we make him such.

Clin. Apparently.

Ath. And how about the opposite case, when we attempt with the aid of justice to make a man fearful? Is it not by pitting him against shamelessness and exercising him against it that we must make him victorious in the fight against his own pleasures? Or shall we say that, whereas in the case of courage it is only by fighting and conquering his innate cowardice that a man can become perfect, and no one unversed and unpracticed in contests of this sort can attain even half the excellence of which he is capable,—in the case of temperance, on the other hand, a man may attain perfection without a stubborn fight against hordes of pleasures and lusts which entice towards shamelessness and wrong-doing, and without conquering them by the aid of speech and act and skill, alike in play and at work,—and, in fact, without undergoing any of these experiences?

Clin. It would not be reasonable to suppose so.

Ath. Well then:

Ath.in the case of fear does there exist any specific, given by God to men, such that, the more a man likes to drink of it, the more, at every draught, he fancies himself plunged in misfortune and finally, though he be the bravest of men, he arrives at a state of abject terror; whereas, when he has once got relieved of the potion and slept it off, he always becomes his normal self again?

Clin. What potion of the kind can we mention, Stranger, as existing anywhere?

Ath. There is none. Supposing, however, that there had been one, would it have been of any service to the lawgiver for promoting courage? For instance, we might quite well have addressed him concerning it in this wise: Come now, O lawgiver,—whether it be Cretans you are legislating for or anyone else, would not your first desire be to have a test of courage and of cowardice which you might apply to your citizens?

Clin. Obviously everyone of them would say Yes.

Ath.And would you desire a test that was safe and free from serious risks, or the reverse?

Clin. All will agree, also, that the test must be safe.

Ath.And would you utilize the test by bringing men into these fears and proving them while thus affected, so as to compel them to become fearless; employing exhortations admonitions and rewards,— but degradation for all those that refused to conform wholly to the character you prescribed? And would you acquit without penalty everyone who had trained himself manfully and well, but impose a penalty on everyone who had done so badly? Or would you totally refuse to employ the potion as a test, although you have no objection to it on other grounds?

Clin. Of course he would employ it, Stranger.

Ath. At any rate, my friend, the training involved would be wonderfully simple, as compared with our present methods, whether it were applied to individuals singly, or to small groups, or to groups ever so large. Suppose, then, that a man, actuated by a feeling of shame and loth to show himself in public before he was in the best of condition, should remain alone by himself while undergoing this training against fears and relying on the potion alone for his solitary equipment, instead of endless exercises,—he would be acting quite rightly: so too would he who, trusting in himself that by nature and practice he is already well equipped, should have no hesitation in training in company with a number of drinking companions and showing off how for speed and strength he is superior to the potency of the draughts he is obliged to drink, with the result that because of his excellence he neither commits any grave impropriety nor loses his head, and who, before they came to the last round, should quit the company, through fear of the defeat inflicted on all men by the wine-cup.

Clin. Yes, Stranger, this man too would be acting temperately.

Ath. Once more let us address the lawgiver and say: Be it so, O lawgiver, that for producing fear no such drug apparently has been given to men by God, nor have we devised such ourselves (for quacks I count not of our company); but does there exist a potion for inducing fearlessness and excessive and untimely confidence,—of what shall we say about this?

Clin. Presumably, he will assert that there is one,—naming wine.

Ath. And is not this exactly the opposite of the potion described just now? For, first, it makes the person who drinks it more jovial than he was before, and the more he imbibes it, the more he becomes filled with high hopes and a sense of power, till finally, puffed up with conceit, he abounds in every kind of licence of speech and action and every kind of audacity, without a scruple as to what he says or what he does. Everyone, I imagine, would agree that this is so.

Clin. Undoubtedly.

Ath. Let us recall our previous statement that we must cultivate in our souls two things—namely, the greatest possible confidence, and its opposite, the greatest possible fear.

Clin. Which you called, I think, the marks of modesty.

Ath. Your memory serves you well. Since courage and fearlessness ought to be practised amidst fears, we have to consider whether the opposite quality ought to be cultivated amidst conditions of the opposite kind.

Clin. It certainly seems probable.

Ath. It appears then that we ought to be placed amongst those conditions which naturally tend to make us exceptionally confident and audacious when we are practising how to be as free as possible from shamelessness and excessive audacity, and fearful of ever daring to say or suffer or do anything shameful.

Clin. So it appears.

Ath. And are not these the conditions in which we are of the character described,—anger, lust, insolence, ignorance, covetousness, and extravagance; and these also,—wealth, beauty, strength, and everything which intoxicates a man with pleasure and turns his head? And for the purpose, first, of providing a cheap and comparatively harmless test of these conditions, and, secondly, of affording practice in them, what more suitable pleasure can we mention than wine, with its playful testing—provided that it is employed at all carefully?