{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_79398/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_79398","id":"gutenberg_79398","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/79398","summary":null,"tags":["Philosophy -- Early works to 1800"],"text":"------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n                          Transcriber\u2019s Note:\n\nThis version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects.\nItalics are delimited with the \u2018_\u2019 character as _italic_. Superscripted\ncharacters are preceded by \u2018^\u2019.\n\nFootnotes have been moved to follow the sections in which they are\nreferenced.\n\nMinor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please\nsee the transcriber\u2019s note at the end of this text for details regarding\nthe handling of any textual issues encountered during its preparation.\n\n\n\n\n                       BOHN\u2019S CLASSICAL LIBRARY.\n\n                                -------\n\n                          THE WORKS OF PLATO,\n\n                         LITERALLY TRANSLATED.\n\n\n\n\n                                  THE\n\n                            WORKS OF PLATO.\n\n                             --------------\n\n\n                       A NEW AND LITERAL VERSION,\n\n                  CHIEFLY FROM THE TEXT OF STALLBAUM.\n\n                                VOL. II.\n\n                               CONTAINING\n\n                   THE REPUBLIC, TIM\u00c6US AND CRITIAS.\n\n\n\n\n                          BY HENRY DAVIS, M.A.\n     AUTHOR OF \u201cPROGRESSIVE EXERCISES IN LATIN COMPOSITION FOR THE\n                        USE OF KING\u2019S COLLEGE.\u201c\n\n                                LONDON:\n               HENRY G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN.\n                               MDCCCXLIX.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                               PRINTED BY\n             COX (BROTHERS) AND WYMAN, GREAT QUEEN STREET,\n                         LINCOLN\u2019S-INN FIELDS.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                               CONTENTS.\n\n                                \u2014\u2014\u2014\u25cf\u2014\u2014\u2014\n\n\n PREFACE\n\n GENERAL INTRODUCTION                                          _Page_  i\n\n THE REPUBLIC (_in Ten Books_)                                         1\n\n INTRODUCTION TO THE TIM\u00c6US                                          313\n\n TIM\u00c6US                                                              319\n\n INTRODUCTION TO THE CRITIAS                                         411\n\n CRITIAS                                                             413\n\n\n\n\n                                PREFACE.\n\n\nThe present volume comprises three connected dialogues, written no doubt\ntowards the close of Plato\u2019s life (about 350 B. C.), subsequently to his\ntravels in Italy, Sicily, and Egypt, and after his philosophic views had\nattained their full maturity and developement. Two of them, indeed,\u2014the\nRepublic and the Tim\u00e6us,\u2014are among the most important and most carefully\nelaborated in the entire series of the Platonic dialogues;\u2014the former\nbeing the summary of Plato\u2019s whole ethical system, and combining the\nresults of most of the other dialogues,\u2014the latter comprising the full\nand almost sole developement of his speculations on the formation of the\nUniverse and the organization of Man. The Critias can be considered only\nas an historical, or rather, mythical supplement to the Tim\u00e6us;\u2014and it\nappears to have been left unfinished at the author\u2019s death.\n\nThe translation has been formed, with some few exceptions, on the text\nof Stallbaum, now justly reputed as the most correct in existence;\u2014and\ngreat pains have been taken throughout, not only to make it a literally\ncorrect exponent of the original, but also to transfuse into it that\neasy flow of language which constitutes the peculiar charm of Plato\u2019s\nwriting. In both these respects, therefore, it will be found strikingly\nto differ from the uncouth, obscure, un-English, and often extremely\nerroneous version of Taylor,\u2014the only English dress in which this great\nphilosopher has till now appeared. Abundant use has been made of the\nLatin interpretations dispersed through Stallbaum\u2019s notes;\u2014and the\ntranslator has not scrupled to avail himself of the valuable aid\nderivable from the French versions of Leroy, Cousin, and Martin, and the\nGerman versions of Schleiermacher and Schneider, the latter of which,\nonly recently published, deserves the highest praise for its extreme\ncorrectness and perspicuity.\n\nNotes have been added, where the meaning seemed to require explanation\nor illustration, as well as to indicate any variation in the text;\u2014and\nwhen any of the other dialogues have been referred to, the quotation\nis given from Serranus\u2019s edition, printed by Henry Stephens, 1578, in\nthree volumes folio,\u2014the last of which comprises the dialogues here\ntranslated. Separate introductions preface each dialogue;\u2014and the\nvolume opens with a brief account of the Platonic philosophy\ngenerally,\u2014carefully compiled from the writings of Ritter, Van Heusde,\nTrendelenburg, and Bishop Hampden. On the whole, therefore, it is\nhoped that this volume will be found acceptable, not only to the\nclassical student, but also to the general reader, as a correct and\npleasing exposition of pure Platonism.\n\n\n\n\n                         GENERAL INTRODUCTION.\n\n\n                        -----------------------\n\n\n                                PART I.\n\n                 ON THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY GENERALLY.\n\n                                -------\n\nAlmost contemporaneously among the learned of Europe, there has arisen a\ntendency to study the sublime, spiritual philosophy of Plato, in\npreference to the cold materialism of Aristotle, on which have been\nerected so many of the systems that have risen and had their day in our\nliterary world. That this has not hitherto been the case, and that\nPlatonism (which, in its spiritualising and purifying tendency, may be\ndeemed to approach Christianity,) has not hitherto been exalted to its\ntrue dignity and station in metaphysical history, is chiefly\nattributable to the absurd mysticism and fanatical extravagances which\nthe New Platonists introduced in their interpretations, and which have\ntoo frequently been regarded as true expositions of the great\nphilosopher, by modern writers either too lazy or too ignorant to go and\ndrink the clear waters at the fountain-head. Plato himself wrote\nwonderfully little that cannot be comprehended by a reflective mind;\u2014and\nthe more his works are studied in themselves, and apart from false\ninterpretation, the more will his acute intelligence, practical good\nsense, and pure morality, become apparent, and the higher will he rise\nin the respect and admiration of the Christian philosopher.\n\nOur present object is, to give a concise view of the philosophic\ndoctrines of Plato, as a sort of general key to his Dialogues viewed as\na whole;\u2014and we propose to give, by way of introduction, a short account\nof the life of this man of mighty mind, this \u201cMaximus philosophorum,\u201d of\nwhom Eusebius so beautifully observes, that \u201che alone, of all the\nGreeks, reached to the vestibule of truth, and stood upon its\nthreshold.\u201d\n\nThe true moral history of Plato is to be discovered wholly in his\nwritings. As for the details of his external life, the records of\nantiquity furnish information so varying, contradictory, and uncertain,\nas to render it difficult to distinguish the true from the false\u2014the\nauthentic from the fabulous. The following statement, however, may be\nrelied on, as generally correct.\n\nPlato, the son of Ariston and Perictione or Potona, was born (probably\nin the island of \u00c6gina, then occupied by Athenians) in the month\nThargelion (May), _anno_ 429 A. C., in the third year of the\neighty-seventh Olympiad, about the time of Pericles\u2019s death. By his\nmother\u2019s side he was descended from Codrus and Solon;\u2014and he was\nconnected with the most distinguished families and most renowned\npolitical men of his day. His youth falls in the time of the\nPeloponnesian war; and his whole life is closely connected with that\nbrilliant period when the literature of Attica, historical, dramatic,\nand rhetorical, was at the zenith of its glory,\u2014at a time, however, (we\nmust add,) when the seeds of Athenian decay were being rapidly brought\nto maturity by the substitution of a base and brutalizing ochlocracy for\nthe rational government of good and patriotic men,\u2014and by the elevation\nof a troop of superficial, seductive, truth-perverting, applause-loving\nsophists to the throne of true, noble, elevating, divine philosophy. He\nreceived the best education that Athens could furnish; being taught\nreading, writing, and literary knowledge (\u03b3\u03c1\u03ac\u03bc\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1), by Dionysius,\ngymnastics by Ariston an Argive wrestler, music by Metellus of\nAgrigentum and Draco of Athens, and the elements of the Heracleitean\nphilosophy by Cratylus and Hermogenes. He had but little inclination for\npolitical life; for, besides being unfitted for it by a retiring habit\nand weak voice, he was utterly disgusted by the endless changes that\noccurred in the governments of Greece, by the corruptions of the\nAthenian democracy, and by the depravity of Athenian manners. His\nstudies were happily promoted by an early cultivation of poetry, in\nwhich many of his essays were far from unsuccessful; and his works\nbetray a very considerable acquaintance with mathematical science. It\nwas by Socrates, however, that his mind was imbued with that true\nphilosophic spirit, which gave a right direction and exalted object to\nall his after-pursuits. His intercourse with this pure, simple-minded\nmoralist began, when he was twenty years old (B. C. 410), and lasted\nnearly eleven years; during which time he carried on his studies and\ninquiries by means of books or oral instruction from others, but in all\ncases consulting his favourite master, as the interpreter, commentator,\nand critic of the various philosophical studies in which he was engaged.\nThis, indeed, is the view which Plato has given us of Socrates\nthroughout the Dialogues;\u2014for the latter seldom or never appears in them\nas a didactic expounder of truth, but rather as the critic of opinions,\ndoctrines, and systems,\u2014the judge, in short, to whom everything is to be\nsubmitted for approval, or rejection, or modification, as the case may\nbe.\n\nAfter the persecution and death of his divine master (so beautifully and\npathetically related in the Ph\u00e6do), Plato went to Megara, where he is\nsaid to have attended the Lectures of Euclid; and he then spent several\nyears in travel, far distant from the past and the future scene of his\nphilosophical labours:\u2014nor can there be any question, but that they were\nyears of great importance to him for developing the peculiar character\nof his philosophy. He visited Megara, Cyrene, the Greek cities in Magna\nGr\u00e6cia and Sicily, (where he became acquainted with Archytas, Philolaus,\nand others of the Pythagorean school;) and he travelled even as far as\nEgypt, where he stayed thirteen years in gaining an insight into the\nmysterious doctrines and priest-lore of the sacerdotal caste. At three\ndifferent periods he visited the court of Dionysius, tyrant of Sicily,\nand made several attempts to subdue his haughty spirit. It was during\nthe first of these residences (B. C. 389), that he was employed in the\ninstruction of Dion, the king\u2019s brother-in-law; and in his efforts to\nrescue his pupil from the general depravity of the court, he was not\ndisappointed. Dion, inspired with the love of wisdom, was desirous of\nintroducing his preceptor to Dionysius the tyrant; but Plato\u2019s discourse\nwith him being levelled against the vices and cruelties of his reign,\nthe tyrant conceived a violent prejudice against him and formed a design\nagainst his life, which, by the aid of Dion, Plato happily managed to\nescape. His captivity in \u00c6gina, which was brought about by the agents of\nDionysius the elder, happily ended in his manumission, through the\nkindness of his friend Anicerris; and he then returned to Athens, there\nto found his celebrated School in the Academy. Here he lectured during\ntwenty-two years, and then undertook a second journey to Syracuse at the\ninstigation of Dion, who hoped, by the philosophical lessons of Plato,\nto inform and improve the ill-educated mind of his nephew, the new ruler\nof Syracuse\u2014Dionysius the younger. This prince, it is said, had been\nbrought up by his father wholly destitute of an enlightened education;\nand Plato now attempted the improvement of his mind by philosophy. This\nsecond journey is placed B. C. 367; and he stayed four months in Sicily.\nIt seems to have been a part also of the plan laid down by Dion and\nhimself, to bring about a wholesome reform in the Sicilian constitution,\nand to give it a more aristocratic character. Whatever may have been\ntheir intentions, however, they were all frustrated by the weak and\nluxurious character of Dionysius, who, however he might relish for a\ntime the sage and virtuous lessons of Plato, soon found it more\nconformable to his personal interests to follow the counsels of\nPhiliston, his father\u2019s friend and adviser. Dion thereupon became the\nobject of his nephew\u2019s jealousy, and was banished on the ground of his\nambitious designs. In this juncture, Plato did not long stay in\nSyracuse, where his position would have been, at best, only ambiguous.\nHe returned once more to Athens; but in consequence of some fresh\ndisagreements between Dionysius and Dion with respect to the property of\nthe latter, he was induced (B. C. 361) to take a third journey to\nSyracuse. So far, however, from effecting the expected reconciliation,\nhe came himself to an open rupture with the tyrant, and was in great\npersonal danger, till relieved by his philosophic friends at Tarentum.\nFrom this time he appears to have passed his old age in tranquillity,\nengaged with the instruction of his numerous disciples and the\nprosecution of his literary labours. He died, while yet actively\nemployed in teaching, _Olymp._ 108, _circ. anno_ 348 B. C.\n\nHe was succeeded as Lecturer in the Academy, by his nephew Speusippus;\nand among his principal followers may be mentioned, Hippothales and\nCallippus of Athens, Xenocrates of Chalcedon, Aristotle of Stageira,\nDion of Syracuse, Demosthenes the orator, and the philosopher\nTheophrastus.\n\nThe works of Plato, it scarcely need be mentioned, consist of a long\nseries of Dialogues, in all of which, except the Laws, the principal\ninterlocutor is Socrates. The form of dialogue he was certainly not the\nfirst to introduce into philosophy; and it seems probable, that his\nadoption of this form of composition flowed rather out of the subject\nthan from any desire of direct imitation. The Eleatic dialectics, with\nwhich Platonism is strongly imbued, could only be explained in the form\nof question and answer; and besides, that Plato should write in the form\nof dialogue seems to be the natural consequence of his wish to\ninvestigate and analyse dialectically, and after the manner of Socrates,\nthe various questions of philosophy then in vogue. And so Schleiermacher\nremarks:\u2014\u201cIn every way, not accidentally only or from practice and\ntradition, but necessarily and naturally, Plato\u2019s was a Socratic method,\nand, indeed, as regards the uninterrupted and progressive reciprocation,\nand the deeper impression made upon the mind of the hearer, to be\ncertainly as much preferred to that of his master, as the scholar\nexcelled him, as well in constructive dialectics as in richness and\ncompass of subjective intuition,\u201d And further,\u2014\u201cif we look only to the\nimmediate purpose, that writing, as regarded by himself and his\nfollowers, was only to be a remembrance of thoughts already current\namong them (\u1f04\u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c6\u03b1 \u03b3\u03c1\u03ac\u03bc\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1)\u2014Plato considers all thought so much like\nspontaneous activity, that, with him, a remembrance of this kind of what\nhas been already acquired, must necessarily be so of the first and\noriginal mode of acquisition. Hence, on that account alone, the\ndialogistic form, necessary as an imitation of that original and\nreciprocal communication, would be as indispensable and natural to his\nwritings as to his oral instruction.\u201d But, however essentially different\nthe _form_ of the dialogues adopted by Plato from that pursued by other\nwriters, they were composed, as respects their matter, with constant\nreference to the labours of his predecessors. In fact, his whole system\nis rather critical and eclectic than dogmatical; and several of his\ndialogues assume the form of criticisms on the notions of former\nphilosophers, rather than the formal developments of any doctrines of\nhis own. He was thoroughly conversant not only with the leading\nprinciples and peculiar system of Socrates, but had no mean\nacquaintance, besides, with the notions of Pythagoras, Heracleitus,\nParmenides, Empedocles, Zeno, Anaxagoras, and Protagoras,\u2014extracts from\nwhose writings, with animadversions on their opinions, are abundantly\nscattered throughout his works. Yet, however much Plato may have learnt\nfrom the philosophic works of his predecessors, while he borrowed some\nof his leading ideas from his great master Socrates, we should\nnevertheless be treating him most unjustly, were we to regard him merely\nas a compiler and systematiser of what had been before promulgated, and\nso deny him all claim to the merit of being a great original thinker.\nHis entire system is based, in fact, on some grand and novel ideas,\nperhaps faintly shadowed forth by others, but never clearly unfolded\ntill the time of Plato. The opposition between the general law and the\nparticular facts, between the objects of reflection and the objects of\nthe senses, between the world of intelligence and the visible world, was\nnever clearly proclaimed till Plato announced it. Socrates, indeed,\nawakened the germ of science, and laid the foundation of dialectics; but\nit was Plato who gave system and consistency to the whole. Socrates had\nnot the mental capacity or education to arrange his thoughts on any\ndefinite plan;\u2014whereas the kindred genius of Plato was happily fostered\nby every encouraging influence, and he stepped in to elaborate\ncompletely the plan of which his master had merely sketched the first\nrude outline.\n\nWe proceed next to consider the chronological arrangement of the\nPlatonic Dialogues, and the natural division according to which they\nshould be classified.[1] The most obvious arrangement is according to\ntheir chronological order;\u2014and viewing them in this light, we may divide\nthem into three classes. In the _first_ are those written by Plato\nbefore he set out on his travels,\u2014namely, the Lysis, Ph\u00e6drus, Laches,\nHippias major, Protagoras, Charmides, Ion, Menon, Alcibiades i.,\nEuthydemus, Euthyphron, Crito, and the Apology of Socrates;\u2014in the\n_second_ are those which he drew up on his return from his travels, and\nbefore his second journey to Sicily,\u2014namely, the Gorgias, The\u00e6tetus,\nSophistes, Politicus, Cratylus, Parmenides, the Symposium, Menexenus,\nPhilebus, and Ph\u00e6do; and in the _third_ we place those written in more\nadvanced life, when his views had become matured, and his doctrines\nthoroughly digested into one harmonious system,\u2014namely, that noble\ntrilogy comprising the Tim\u00e6us, Critias, and Republic,\u2014to which may be\nadded the long dialogue of the Laws, which, though perfectly genuine, is\nbut loosely connected with the general system of Plato\u2019s philosophy, and\nseems to be quite an extraneous section of this part of his writings.\nSchleiermacher, however, has presented us with a classification of a\ndifferent kind, based on their subject-matter, and on an acute and\ncareful examination of the connexion of thought running through the\nDialogues. He arranges them under three heads:\u20141. _Elementary\nDialogues_, containing the germs of all that follows,\u2014of Logic as the\ninstrument of philosophy, and of Ideas as its proper object,\u2014viz., the\nPh\u00e6drus, Protagoras, and Parmenides, the Lysis, Laches, Charmides, and\nEuthyphron, to which he appends also, the Apology, Crito, Io, and\nHippias minor;\u20142. _Progressive Dialogues_, which treat of the\ndistinction between scientific and common knowledge in their united\napplication to Moral and Physical science,\u2014viz., the Gorgias, The\u00e6tetus,\nMenon, Euthydemus, Cratylus, Sophistes, Politicus, the Symposium, Ph\u00e6do,\nand Philebus, with an Appendix containing the Erast, first Alcibiades,\nMenexenus, and Hippias major;\u20143. _Constructive Dialogues_, containing an\nobjective scientific exposition, in which the practical and speculative\nare completely united,\u2014viz., the Tim\u00e6us, the Critias, and the Republic,\nwith an Appendix comprising the Laws, Epistles, &c. It is clear also\nthat the Dialogues will allow of yet another mode of arrangement,\naccording to their contents,\u2014as being either Dialectical, Ethical, or\nPhysical:\u2014this division, indeed, is clearly discernible in his works,\nthough several may not be assignable to any one part in\nparticular:\u2014thus, the The\u00e6tetus and its two connected dialogues,\u2014the\nGorgias and Protagoras, with the Cratylus and the Sophistes, are clearly\ndialectical; the Ph\u00e6drus, Philebus, Republic, and Laws are ethical, and\nthe Tim\u00e6us is exclusively physical. If, however, we would view the\nDialogues as a whole, with all its parts fully harmonising, we should\ninquire what was the philosopher\u2019s great object visible throughout those\nwritings. Mr. Sewell answers this very satisfactorily;\u2014we shall give his\nown expressive, glowing words:\u2014\u201cPlato\u2019s great object was man. He lived\nwith man, felt as a man, held intercourse with kings, interested himself\ndeeply in the political revolutions of Sicily, was the pupil of one,\nwhose boast it was to have brought down philosophy from heaven to earth,\nthat it might raise man up from earth to heaven; and, above all, he was\na witness and an actor in the midst of that ferment of humanity\nexhibited in the democracy of Athens. The object constantly before the\neyes of Plato was the incorporated spirit, the \u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b1 \u03b8\u03c1\u03ad\u03bc\u03bc\u03b1 of human\nlawlessness; he saw it, indeed, in an exhausted state, its power passed\naway, its splendour torn off, and all the sores and ulcers which former\ndemagogues had pampered and concealed, now laid bare and beyond cure.\u201d\nIndeed, as the same writer well observes;\u2014\u201cthe state of the Athenian\ndemocracy is the real clue to the philosophy of Plato. It would be\nproved, if by nothing else, by one little touch in the Republic. _The\nRepublic is the summary of his whole system, and the key-stones of all\nthe other Dialogues are uniformly let into it._ But the object of the\nRepublic is to exhibit the misery of man let loose from law, and to\nthrow out a general plan for making him subject to law, and thus to\nperfect his nature. This is exhibited on a large scale in the person of\na State; and in the masterly historical sketch which, in the eighth and\nninth Books, he draws of the changes of society, having painted in the\nminutest detail the form of a licentious democracy, he fixes it by the\nslightest allusion (it was perhaps all that he could hazard) on the\nexisting state of Athens; and then passes on to a frightful prophecy of\nthat tyranny which would inevitably follow. All the other dialogues\nbring us to the Republic, and the Republic brings us to this as its end\nand aim.\u201d\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 1:\n\n  We have particularised here only those Dialogues which are usually\n  regarded as genuine. The Hipparchus, Minos, Alcibiades ii, Clitophon,\n  Theages, Eryxias, Demodocus, Epinomis, and the Letters, are of\n  disputable origin, and to be assigned, probably, to some of Plato\u2019s\n  followers.\n\n-----\n\nWe may now proceed to take a general review of the Platonic philosophy,\nand his theory of Ideas in particular, an intelligent acquaintance with\nwhich is wholly indispensable to the student of Plato.\n\nThe Platonic philosophy, be it understood, begins and ends, as do the\nlessons of Socrates, with an acknowledgment of human ignorance,\u2014the\nonly true starting-place of sound scientific investigation. Imitating\nhis master\u2019s example, Plato did not so much endeavour to _teach_, in\nthe strict sense of the word, as to explore men\u2019s minds, and ascertain\nhow far they really comprehended the doctrines and opinions which they\nprofessed. Taking for granted that all current opinions are true,\n_because_ they are current, was the great fault of the Sophists, who\ntaught entirely \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b4\u03cc\u03be\u03b1\u03bd, relative to opinion;\u2014whereas, with\nSocrates and Plato, the preliminary investigation respecting their\ntruth or falsehood was ALL IN ALL,\u2014any prior assumption of their truth\nbeing positively inadmissible; because, without investigation, it was\nimpossible to _know_ and be sure of the truth of opinions. The method\nof Plato, accordingly, is the reverse of the didactic method employed\nby the Sophists, who assumed principles as true, and on these grounds\nproceeded to argue and persuade. The Socratic method, on the other\nhand, consisted in putting questions with the view of eliciting\nreplies bearing-on the point in debate,\u2014in simply inquiring and\n_pronouncing_ so far only as the answer is approved or rejected,\u2014in a\nword, educing the truth by simply bringing the answerer to teach\nhimself:\u2014and hence it was, that the popular opponents of this method\ndecried it, as one producing doubt, and therefore of dangerous\ntendency. With Plato, however, as with Socrates, the awakening of\ndoubt was not merely a vain display of logical skill and clever\ncavilling, but had for its object the removal of the unstable ground\non which opinions may have been rested, and the formation of more\nsettled convictions:\u2014indeed, it was exalted by him into a regular\ndiscipline of the mind set in operation for the single purpose of\ninvestigating the truth. The method and discipline by which he\naccomplishes this object is, what he calls DIALECTIC, which, as\nopposed to the plans of the Sophists, may be termed the true art of\nDiscussion; and, as contrasted with the mere wisdom of opinion, (the\n\u03b4\u03bf\u03be\u03bf\u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03af\u03b1 of the Sophists,) it was philosophy\u2014real science\u2014the\nknowledge of the truth. The ground of his whole proceeding was the\nFallaciousness of Opinion; and hence Plato had to seek some _criterion\nof Truth_, apart from mere opinion. Denying the sufficiency of\n_subjective_ truth (_i. e._ the assumption that the mental perceptions\nare true simply because they take place), he set himself to search\nafter _objective_ truth\u2014truth independent of the mind of man and not\naffected by the variations of human judgment\u2014as a foundation of his\nsystem of knowledge. Involved with the notion of the Fallaciousness of\nOpinion, another is closely allied,\u2014_the Fallaciousness of the\nSenses_; and it is the joint application of these two fundamental\nprinciples, which unites his method and his philosophy in one\nmaster-science,\u2014Dialectic. True knowledge, unlike that derived through\nthe senses, is founded purely on the apprehensions of the intellect,\nwithout any intervention whatever of the senses;\u2014and so also\nDialectic, as being philosophy, is occupied about that which exists\n(\u03c4\u1f78 \u1f44\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f44\u03bd), or has Being, in opposition to the presentations made\nto the senses, which are conversant only with those things that have\nthe semblance of being (\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c6\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1);\u2014while, as a method, it\ninvestigates the reason or account of the Being of everything,\u2014of\neverything as it IS, and not as it APPEARS, not being satisfied with\nopinions, of which no account can be given, but bringing all to the\ntest of exact argument and definition. Plato thought it his first\nbusiness, therefore, to give his method a firm basis by establishing\nat the outset a sound Theory of Being, as a sure Criterion of\nTruth;\u2014and this is his celebrated Theory of IDEAS.\n\nPlato conceived, that Opinion, in contradistinction from Knowledge,\nis grounded _on sensation and becoming_ (\u03c4\u1f78 \u03b3\u03b9\u03b3\u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd). To man,\nindeed, such sensation is absolutely necessary; because the soul\nresides in the body, which is itself a compound thing, subject to\ncontinual decay and reproduction,\u2014the connexion between the two\nconsisting in the reciprocal communication either of action or\npassion by means of their respective faculties. Hence sensation is\nclearly regarded as an effect produced by the union of the soul with\nthe body; and Plato did not fail to observe that although sensation,\nstrictly speaking, has cognisance only of corporeal qualities, there\nare certain internal states of the soul which have no immediate\nreference to the corporeal. The soul, in short, receives sensations\nthrough the sensuous mechanism; but it has moreover, (in addition to\nthe power which it exercises through the instrumentality of the\nbodily organs,) a distinct faculty of investigating by itself the\nabstract properties of all sensations; \u201cappearing,\u201d as it is said in\nthe The\u00e6tetus (p. 185. b.) \u201cto have the power of inspecting the\ncommon properties of all things.\u201d In accordance with this view,\nPlato distinguishes what is apprehended by the senses (\u03c4\u1f78 \u03b1\u1f30\u03c3\u03b8\u03b7\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd)\nfrom that of which we become cognisant by means of reflection\n(\u03b4\u03b9\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1) through the understanding or rational contemplation\n(\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2 or \u03bd\u03cc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2);\u2014the former being in a continual state of\ntransition or becoming (\u03c4\u1f70 \u03b3\u03b9\u03b3\u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1), whereas the latter (\u03c4\u1f70 \u1f44\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1)\nare constant and permanent, unproduced, imperishable, and ever\nidentical with themselves, belonging to \u03bf\u1f50\u03c3\u03af\u03b1 and capable of\nbecoming the objects of science or certain knowledge. Such are the\nnotions of genus and species, the laws and ends of nature, as also\nthe principles of cognition and moral action, and the essences of\nindividual, concrete, thinking souls;\u2014respecting all of which may be\npredicted an \u03b5\u1f36\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, which closely corresponds with what we now\ndesignate\u2014_a general term_. (Comp. Republ. vii. p. 532, a., with\nPhileb. p. 15. a., and Tim. p. 51. c.) It is in this sense, then,\nthat he says of science in general (which seeks in the ideas to\nseize the essence of things), that its object is to exhibit\neverything as it is, by itself, absolutely, (\u03c4\u1f78 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u2019 \u03b1\u1f51\u03c4\u1f78, or\n\u03c4\u1f78 \u03b1\u1f51\u03c4\u1f78 \u1f15\u03ba\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd, as in Republ. vi. p. 494. a.) and that the ideas\nthemselves invariably maintain their proper nature, character, and\nidentity. All things else, therefore, besides ideas, have only so\nfar a reality, as they participate therein;\u2014all being formed out of\nideas and numbers,[2]\u2014sensible things merely resembling ideas and\nbeing, as copies do originals,\u2014just as Plato himself observes in the\ntenth Book of the Republic,\u2014speaking of a couch, \u03bf\u1f50 \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f43\u03bd, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac \u03c4\u03b9\n\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03bf\u1f37\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f42\u03bd. Inquiry, however, must necessarily lead men\nfrom one idea to others in connexion therewith; and on this account\nPlato regarded individual ideas as hypothetical notions, for which a\ntrue foundation can only be given by an idea not requiring\nexplanation and confirmed also by some higher supposition or idea.\nHe wished, indeed, through the realisation of the lower ideas to\nrise to a knowledge of the highest, which represents the principle\nof all things,\u2014in short, the idea of God,\u2014God, the measure of all\nthings (not man, as Protagoras held),\u2014God, the beginning, the\nmiddle, and the end of all,\u2014the Supreme Idea, containing in itself\nall others, and the unity which in itself comprises the true essence\nof all things.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 2:\n\n  \u0398\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f55\u03c4\u03c9 \u03b4\u1f74 \u03c4\u03cc\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c6\u03c5\u03ba\u03cc\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u1ff6\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u03b5\u03c3\u03c7\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03af\u03c3\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf \u03b5\u1f34\u03b4\u03b5\u03c3\u03af \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n  \u1f00\u03c1\u03b9\u03b8\u03bc\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2. \u201cGod thus truly formed these things as they first arose\n  according to ideas and numbers.\u201d\u2014Tim. p. 53. b.\n\n-----\n\nIn conclusion, as Ritter succinctly and well observes, \u201cPlato attempted\nto account for the existence of the sensible world, by the ideas alone,\nwithout recourse to any other nature, alien and foreign to them; and in\nthis attempt to make the transition from the ideal to the sensible,\nthere is much that is vague and indeterminate.\u201d The source of this\nvagueness lies principally in the insufficiency of the distinction which\nhe makes between different ideas, as indicating either a substantial and\nabsolute entity, or a mere relation or property. To this must be added\nthe vague and indeterminate sense of the Platonic idea of the essence\nwhich is exhibited by the ideas severally. In this respect Aristotle\ndoes not seem to be to blame, when he asks how ideas or lifeless numbers\ncan possibly have a desire, or longing, notwithstanding that we are\nconstrained to admit that, according to Plato, some ideas, at least,\nthat of the soul for instance,\u2014must be supposed to be endued with life.\nAgain, the distinction which is made between ideas in their unity and\ntotality, and ideas in their opposition to each other, is extremely\nvague; although it is the basis on which the whole theory rests. If\nmoreover, we admit that, according to man\u2019s true and real nature, the\nworld of ideas is his proper home, and that he there contemplates the\ntrue essence of things, as is implied in the doctrine of reminiscence,\nit becomes difficult to account for his removal from so perfect a state\nof being, into the present imperfect existence. Finally, Plato was\nforced to have recourse to the notion, that there is an impelling\nnecessity in the secondary causes, the ground of which was the\nsupposition, that there must be a something opposite to good. In this\nthere is undoubtedly contained a very ancient cast of thought, still the\nvery indefinite nature of this necessity shows that, after all his\nattempts to reconcile the supra-sensible with the sensible, Plato still\nfound in it something inexplicable. Thus much at least is certain, that\non the one hand, the tendency of his views was to refer all real entity\nto the immutable ideas, and consequently to consider the sensible more\nas an unsubstantial shadow than a reality; while, on the other, he seems\nnever to have forgotten that the only point of view from which\nphilosophical speculation is possible, lies on the sensible, and so\nagain the reality of the sensible appears to be a necessary supposition\nof his system. In these two tendencies, we may recognise the\nwell-balanced and measured character of his mind. To discover their true\nconnection however, was granted neither to Plato nor his age; nor can we\nwonder, then, that he should have had recourse to many vague and loose\nconceptions in order to explain it, none of which, however, eventually\nsatisfied his own mind.\n\nThe dialectic of Plato, however great its defects may be estimated,\npresents, nevertheless, a worthy image of the pure philosophical\nfeeling. This Plato assumed to be grounded in love and in a longing\nafter the eternal ideas, by the contemplation of which the mortal soul\nsustains itself, and by perpetual renovation becomes participant in\nimmortality. Stimulated by such a desire, the philosophical mind or soul\nstrives to attain, as far as possible, to a perfect remembrance of ideas\nwhich are the eternal essence of things, the memory of them being\nawakened by sensible phenomena, which are resemblances of the ideas and\nreal entity, and thereby serve as means by which the cognition of real\nbeing becomes attainable. But while the sensible, by bringing to mind\nthis resemblance to real entity, is subservient to the efforts of the\nreasonable soul, it also impedes and limits it in its pursuits of the\ntrue, since the sensuous representations contain as much of\nirresemblance as of resemblance. But the greatest impediment to\nphilosophical investigation arises from the constant flux of sensation\nwhich allows it no stability. Flowing on in a continual series of\nproduction and decay, sensible things are constantly changing their\nstate and never exhibit the full perfection of the subsistent. They\ncomprise at once entity and non-entity, and it is not the true standard\nand the all-sufficient which they represent, but only the relative,\nwhich constantly varies by greater or less from the measure of the true\nand substantive entity. It was to this that Plato looked when he thought\nhe had discovered in the ideas of the other and the relatively great and\nlittle, the grounds of the sensible matter of mutability. But contingent\nbeing is only for the absolute, a mean merely by which the resemblance\nto ideas is manifested in sensible things; and, viewed in this light,\nideas must appear as the ends of sensible existence, and as the standard\nby which the true therein is to be measured. A multiplicity of ends\nhaving been admitted, it followed that there must also be a last end,\u2014an\nultimatum in the realm of ideas,\u2014therefore a _supreme idea_. This result\nfollows from the consideration of the mutual relation of ideas, for one\nidea must be explained by another, and thus we proceed through a series\nof subordinate ideas up to higher and higher, in order to reduce them by\na legitimate synthesis into unity, until at last we arrive at the\nhighest idea, and then again, by a converse method, to descend by\nanalysis from the supreme unity to the multiplicity of subordinate\nideas. In this higher and lower ordination, each subordinate idea\nrequires merely as a supposition until it is shown by the latter to be\nlegitimate. But from such hypotheses or suppositions the mind must at\nlast arrive at that which implies nothing else, and is in itself\nsufficient; of this kind is the nature of good, which, exhausting all\ntrue entity, is itself in want of nothing, but is desired by all. This\nidea of good, or God, is consequently the key-stone of all rational\ninvestigation. It embraces whatever subsists without difference, in time\nor space,\u2014all truth and science, all substances and all reason, being\nneither reason nor essence, but being superior to, unites both within\nitself. It is the source of motion to all, for all has a desire towards\nit, and consequently it is the mistress of all generation, in which\nnought is true beyond its resemblance of the good. However, from some\nimpelling necessity, evil, the opposite of good, is in generation mixed\nup with it. Man, therefore, as living in this scene of production and\ndecay, cannot attain to a complete knowledge of the unity of good; for\nto him truth, and the science of truth, appear in opposition to each\nother, and it is not permitted to mortal nature to contemplate the\neternal, in its absolute essence, but merely as shadowed forth in the\ntemporal. God, then, is the good itself, of which this sensible world is\nonly an image. But in the present world it ought to be man\u2019s endeavour\nto enlarge and cultivate his science, in order that, by attaining to as\npure a knowledge as possible of the multiplicity of ideas, he may be\nable to discern therein, however imperfectly, the unity of truth and\nscience which subsists in the good.\n\n\n                                PART II.\n\n                                -------\n\n                 PLATO\u2019S VIEWS ON ETHICS AND POLITICS.\n                GENERAL SKETCH OF THE SUBJECT-MATTER OF\n                             THE REPUBLIC.\n\nThe notions entertained by Plato on Political Science will be best\nunderstood by viewing them in connexion with his ethical doctrines, from\nwhich, indeed, he considered them inseparable. The two leading\nprinciples on which his moral system reposes, are\u2014first, that no one is\nwillingly evil (\u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f11\u03ba\u1f7c\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u03b5\u1f76\u03c2), and, secondly, that _every one\nis endued with the power of producing moral changes in his own moral\ncharacter_,\u2014which, indeed, are only the counterpart ethical _changes in\nhis moral character_;\u2014and these are only the corresponding ethical\nexpressions of the theory of _Immutable Being_, on the one hand, and, on\nthe other, of _the world of sensible things_ (\u03c4\u1f70 \u03b3\u03b9\u03b3\u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1),\u2014everything\nthat is born and perishes,\u2014a principle which places in the strongest\npossible contrast the mutability and false appearances of this world\nwith the true and immutable of the Deity, whom Plato conceived to be not\nonly the measure of all things and the pattern of his own perfections,\nhaving the supreme good for the object of all his operations, but\nlikewise as the only real Idea of Good, in comparison with which the\nbest strivings and conceptions of man are but tendencies and\napproximations. So truly is it said in the Ph\u00e6do, that \u201call things\ndesire to be of the same quality as the _summum bonum_, but yet are ever\ninferior to it.\u201d Philosophy and morals, in fact, perfectly coincide in\ntheir object,\u2014the love of truth being the love of good, and the love of\ngood the love of truth;\u2014and morality, viewed _per se_, is the one motive\nof the love of truth and good predominating over, purifying, and\nabsorbing into itself every desire of human nature,\u2014is, in fact, the\npurifying of the soul, the perfecting of virtue, the discipline of\nimmortality, the resemblance and participation of the Deity.[3]\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 3:\n\n  \u201cAs the rational soul can only involuntarily be subject to ignorance,\n  _it is only against its will that it can be evil_. Every volition, by\n  its essential nature, pursues the good; no one is willing to be\n  subject to evil or to become bad, inasmuch as the end of volition is\n  not the immediate act, but the object for the sake of which the act is\n  undertaken; and no man enters on any act or undertaking, except for\n  the sake of ultimate good. Now a man, when engaging in any act\n  apparently good, may err, and choose the evil instead of the good; but\n  in that case he labours under _an involuntary error_, and does not\n  what he really desires, but what, in spite of his wishes, seems to him\n  either as an immediate good or a mean to ultimate good.\u201d\u2014Ritter\u2019s\n  History of Philos. (Morrison\u2019s Tr.) ii. 387.\n\n-----\n\nOf Plato\u2019s moral doctrines, the most important are the following:\u2014that,\nindependently of other ends, virtue is to be pursued as the true good of\nthe soul,[4] the proper perfection of man\u2019s nature, the power by which\nthe soul fitly accomplishes its existence,[5] whereas vice is a disease\nof the mind (Republ. iv. 444. c.), arising from delusion or imperfect\napprehension of our proper interests;\u2014that the real freedom of a\nrational being consists in an ability to regulate his conduct by reason,\nand that every one not guided by his reason, encourages insubordination\nin the mental faculties, and becomes the slave of caprice or passion;\n(\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03d7\u0300 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03b8\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b3\u03ad\u03bc\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f21 \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u1f74 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6. Republ. ix.\n577. d.)\u2014that virtuous conduct, apart from its benefits to society, is\nadvantageous to the individual practising it, inasmuch as it ensures\nthat regularity of the imagination,\u2014that tranquillity and internal\nharmony, which constitutes the mind\u2019s proper happiness.[6] He,\nthroughout, and with great power, contends for the earnestness of a\nvirtuous mind in the attainment of truth, and inculcates the propriety\nof pursuing the ordinary pleasures of life,[7] only so far as they are\nsubservient to, or compatible with, man\u2019s higher and nobler duties. In\nthe fourth Book of the Laws, there is a pretty complete summary of the\nsalient features in Plato\u2019s theory of morals,\u2014a condensed view of which\nwill be found in the article \u201cPlato\u201d of the Encyclop\u00e6dia\nMetropolitana:\u2014the remarks with which it closes\u2014on the coincidence of\nthe precepts of morality with the conclusions of prudence and\nenlightened self-love,\u2014are both happily conceived and well expressed.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 4:\n\n  Gorg. p. 506. e.\n\nFootnote 5:\n\n  Republ. i. p. 353. d.\n\nFootnote 6:\n\n  Republ. ix. p. 591. d.\n\nFootnote 7:\n\n  Democritus, Aristippus, and the Sophists had taught that _good\n  consists in pleasure_;\u2014and Plato, in his refutation of this vicious\n  doctrine, does not deny that pleasure belongs to the good things of\n  life, but only seeks to determine its relative value. Pleasures, too,\n  are of two kinds,\u2014some simple and pure, dependant on the bodily or\n  intellectual organisation,\u2014others mixed or impure, as being always\n  combined with more or less of pain. The latter are only relatively\n  pleasures, inasmuch as they are incapable of affording pleasure except\n  by the gratification of some want; whereas true enjoyment consists in\n  those pure delights which do not arise after pain, but which the soul\n  experiences, when filled with the contemplation of true being.\n  (Republ. ix. p. 585. d.)\u2014Ritter\u2019s History of Philos. ii. p. 390.\n\n-----\n\nPlato conceived that there were two great causes of human corruption,\nviz., _bad or ill-directed education_, and _the corrupt influence of the\nbody on the soul_. His ethical discussions, therefore, have for their\nobject, the limiting of the desires, and the cure of the diseases\nproduced by them in the soul; while his political discussions have for\ntheir immediate object, the laying down of right principles of\neducation, and enforcing them by the constitution of the laws and the\npower of the State. His two great works, in fact,\u2014the Republic and the\nLaws,\u2014may be considered as theories and plans of civic education, rather\nthan schemes of legislation and details of laws. The former, it is true,\ninquires more particularly into the principles on which a right\ngovernment may be formed, and the latter presents a systematic view of\nthe principles of legislation:\u2014but, comprising, as both works do, so\nmuch matter of a purely intellectual and ethical character, we are\ncompelled to conclude that their primary object is, the improvement of\nhuman nature by social institutions expressly formed for that purpose.\nWe are not to suppose, moreover, that Plato, in his Republic, had in\nview the actual foundation of a State, but that he presents rather an\nexample of the most perfect life\u2014public as well as private\u2014free from\nthose impediments which all existing governments and laws throw across\nthe path of the virtuous. Thus, in the Laws (_lib._ vii.), he says\u2014\u201cOur\nwhole government consists in the imitation of a most excellent and\nvirtuous life;\u201d and again, \u201cthese excellent things are rather as wishes\nstated in a fable than actual facts, though it would be best of all if\nthey could exist in all States.\u201d He thought, in fact, that as Philosophy\nis the guide of private life, elevating it to the knowledge of the true\nand the good, so it was seated, likewise, on the throne of government,\nand exhibited the eternal ideas of social good and truth,\u2014modifying\nsociety after their pattern;\u2014and hence is it, that (as Aristotle\nobserves in the second Book of his Politics, ch. 2,) Plato overlooks\nimpossibilities in his arrangements, and sacrifices all to the one great\nobject of sketching _the idea of good as a social principle_, apart from\nthe evil influences of society.\n\nWe shall now proceed to describe at some length the subject-matter of\nthe Republic; and we shall just remark, that if the work itself had been\nmore studied, there would have been far less difference of opinion\nrespecting the nature and object of this Dialogue. In fact, no\nexposition or theory can explain Plato, who is, above all others, a\nwriter to be studied in his own works; and his character as a writer and\nphilosopher would have been far higher in general estimation at the\npresent day, if there had been fewer to pronounce sentence on him\nwithout having read a single syllable of his writings.\n\nThe Republic of Plato is _a development of the analogy between the ideas\nof the perfect man and the perfect State_,\u2014the two principles being\nelaborated throughout the Dialogue, in perfect harmony and mutual\ndependance on each other. He exhibits, indeed, the image of perfect and\nconsummate virtue, such as ought to be seen in the whole life of man,\nwhether in his private capacity simply, as a sentient and moral agent,\nor in his public position as the member of a State. As man, moreover,\nhas certain special social relations and social functions, he considers\nhim also collectively, as part of a State, and is hence led to inquire\ninto the best or pattern form of a State,\u2014a proceeding quite in unison\nwith the custom of the Greeks, who treated Politics rather as a branch\nof Ethics than a separate science. This Dialogue, therefore,\u2014one of that\nsplendid group of which the Tim\u00e6us, the Critias, and the Laws are the\nother members,\u2014comprises two subjects constantly connected and\ncohering,\u2014the contemplation of the perfectly good man, composed of body\nand soul on the one hand, and on the other the perfectly good State,\ncomposed of many members in different classes, performing their\nrespective functions. Justice, then,\u2014the principle, cause, and uniting\nbond of all the other virtues,\u2014one, too, that is essentially of a\npolitical character\u2014forms a very suitable discussion by way of\nintroduction to this Dialogue. The refutation of incorrect or inadequate\ndefinitions of this virtue, occupies a large portion of the first\nBook;\u2014and Socrates (the hero of this, as of most other of the Platonic\nDialogues), then proceeds, with the view of educing some abstract\ndefinition of justice, to explain his notion of a perfect State, as one\nin which all ranks of its members accurately fulfil their respective\nfunctions, dwelling together in harmony.\n\nCommencing with the consideration of Virtue, (which consists in the\nharmonious cultivation of the different intellectual and moral\nfaculties,) he opens the inquiry with a kind of analysis of the human\nmind, which he divides into three parts,\u2014first, _the rational or\nreasoning principle_, (\u03c4\u1f78 \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd),\u2014secondly, _the spirit or will_,\n(\u03c4\u1f78 \u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd or \u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03bf\u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u1f72\u03c2),\u2014and thirdly, _the appetite or passion_ (\u03c4\u1f78\n\u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd),[8]\u2014which last, however, indicates nothing beyond that\nvital impulse which leads from one sensation to another. Of these\nfaculties the most excellent is Reason, whose proper province is to\ndirect and controul the other faculties; and of the operations of this\nfaculty Plato forms several divisions (at the close of the sixth Book),\naccording as the ideas are abstract, mixed, or material,\u2014the \u03bd\u03cc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2\nconstituting the knowledge of pure ideas, the \u03b4\u03b9\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1 that of mixed\nideas, \u03c0\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 that of actually existing materials and their affections,\nand \u03b5\u1f30\u03ba\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03b1 the knowledge of the images or shadows of bodies,[9]\u2014these\ndivisions including\u2014first, \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03bc\u03b7 (true science), and secondly,\nopinion true or false, (\u03b4\u03cc\u03be\u03b1).[10] So much for Reason (\u03c4\u1f78 \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd).\nNow,\u2014intermediate between Reason and Passion (\u03c4\u1f78 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd) is the\nWill or Spirit, which should be an assistant to Reason (\u1f10\u03c0\u03af\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u1f42\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff7\n\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1ff7 \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9) in the pursuit of virtue, and should oppose the\nindulgence of base desires,\u2014all desires being legitimately under the\ncontroul of the Reason and the Will.[11] Furthermore,\u2014from the exercise\nand combination of these three faculties there are generated four\nprincipal or cardinal virtues:\u20141. Prudence or Wisdom (\u03c6\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2);\u20142.\nCourage or Fortitude (\u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03b5\u03af\u03b1), by which Plato means the maintenance of\nright opinion as to what is and is not to be feared, (\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd,)\n_i. e._ as to good and evil;[12]\u20143. Temperance or Self-controul\n(\u03c3\u03c9\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u03b7);[13]\u2014and 4. Justice (\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u03b7), which, with Plato, does\nnot simply mean the virtue of rendering to all their due, but stands for\nthat harmonious and proportional development of the inner man, by means\nof which each faculty of his soul performs its own functions without\ninterfering with the others[14] (\u03bc\u1f74 \u1f10\u03ac\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c4\u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u03cc\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u03ac\u03c4\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u1f15\u03ba\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\n\u1f10\u03bd \u03b1\u1f51\u03c4\u1ff7 \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u1f72 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03c0\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bb\u03b1). Just or virtuous actions,\nthen, says he, consist in the performance of actions agreeable to the\nnature of the soul,[15] whereas the contrary comprise such as are\ndiscordant to a right nature, and productive of mental disturbance and\nagitation. In the realization of this Justice, in short, consists Virtue\nitself, which Plato defines to be \u201ca certain health and beauty and good\nhabit of the soul,\u201d exercising the nobler parts of our nature in the\ncontemplation of philosophy and more particularly the _summum bonum_ (\u03c4\u1f78\n\u1f00\u03b3\u03b1\u03b8\u03cc\u03bd), the practical realization of which should be the chief aim of\nthe State constituted in the soul.[16]\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 8:\n\n  Ritter, ii. p. 363.\n\nFootnote 9:\n\n  (Query\u2014the science of forms?) Comp. Republ. vi. 509. e.\n\nFootnote 10:\n\n  Plato\u2019s system of Ideas (\u03b5\u1f34\u03b4\u03b7) consists, strictly speaking, of what we\n  now term generalization and abstraction,\u2014the main part of the\n  definition _real_, and he seems to have constructed his theory as a\n  mean between the Heraclitean doctrine of a perpetual flux, modified\n  into the notion of Protagoras, \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03bc\u03ad\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u1f04\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2, (which set up\n  \u03b3\u03af\u03b3\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 instead of \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9,) and the Eleatic doctrine that all is\n  _one_, without multiplicity, change, augmentation, or decay. He was\n  convinced of the reality both of the permanent being or genus (\u03bf\u1f50\u03c3\u03af\u03b1)\n  and of the mutable \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 of the phenomena:\u2014the science that\n  contemplates these general terms is called \u1f21 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae\u2014Dialectics.\n  These ideas are recognized by the \u03bd\u03cc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 and \u03b4\u03b9\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1\u2014not by the\n  senses; and as they belong to \u03bf\u1f50\u03c3\u03af\u03b1, they become the objects of true\n  science or certain knowledge. Everything of this kind is an \u03b5\u1f36\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, or\n  general term, or quiddity. He thought, moreover, that there was a\n  supreme standard Idea\u2014God\u2014in which were comprised all other\n  subordinate Ideas, and which contained nothing whatever capable of\n  being apprehended by the senses. This is not exactly but nearly the\n  view taken by Ritter, ii. 264\u2014270.\n\nFootnote 11:\n\n  Republ. iv. p. 441. a.\n\nFootnote 12:\n\n  Ib. iv. 429. b. c.\n\nFootnote 13:\n\n  Ib. iii. 389. d. and iv. 430. d. e.\n\nFootnote 14:\n\n  Republ. iv. 443. e.\n\nFootnote 15:\n\n  Ib. iv. 444. e.\n\nFootnote 16:\n\n  Ib. ix. 591. e.\n\n-----\n\nThe man, then, who studies to produce this harmony in the mental\nfaculties, is truly consistent with himself,\u2014truly entitled to the\nappellation\u2014\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03c2 and \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03c2,\u2014by which he means far more than is\nconveyed by the modern terms, musician and politician. So great, indeed,\nis the power and influence of virtue that, without it, there can be\nneither true happiness nor mental tranquillity,\u2014all else of the nature\nof pleasure being mere shadow and inanity (\u1f10\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1\u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7 \u03c4\u03af\u03c2.)[17] Now,\nwith respect to Pleasure, each mental faculty has its own peculiar\nspecies,\u2014the highest as well as purest of all being exclusively enjoyed\nby the philosopher, through the exercise of wisdom;[18] and those who\ncultivate wisdom and virtue are to be deemed happy, even in the midst of\nmisfortune, and when it has no probability of proper reward. It is to be\ncultivated, indeed, on its own intrinsic merits, without any regard for\nexpediency\u2014any hope of reward. At the same time, however, it is quite\napparent that good men are praised, loved, and honoured, while the\nunjust are eventually exposed and punished;\u2014nay, even by the Deity, good\nand just men are not neglected, for God loves and rewards those who\npractise virtue and seek to resemble Him. Independently of this, too,\nPlato derives another motive to virtue from the immortality of the\nsoul,\u2014viz., that, if we be not justly and adequately compensated in this\nlife, we shall meet with perfect and unswerving justice, when arraigned\nbefore the judgment-seat of God.\n\nHaving thus far explained Plato\u2019s notions respecting Man\u2019s character\nindividually, and respecting the dignity and excellence of Virtue\u2014and of\nJustice in particular\u2014that union and consummation of all the other\nvirtues,\u2014we now proceed to shew, how he applied these principles to the\nformation of his ideal and perfect Commonwealth (\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03b1), which he\nthought to be analogous to, and a sort of exhibition (\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1?) of, a\ngood and virtuous man. Some few incidental remarks occur on the\nformation of society for mutual aid and support; and he then proceeds to\nclassify the members or parts of his ideal Republics.\n\nThese he classes under three heads or divisions, corresponding with the\nfaculties of the soul,\u2014viz., 1. the \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd, (counsellors) those who\nemploy reason in the contemplation of what best suits the State,\u20142. the\n\u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd,\u2014those who aid the \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03b1\u03af with a ready will,\u20143. the\n\u03c7\u03c1\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd, who are bent on gain and selfish gratification.[19]\nReason alone is, according to Plato, entitled to and capacitated for the\nsupreme government (just as reason is the monarch of the properly\nenergising mind), to the total exclusion of the commonalty\n(\u03c7\u03c1\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03af), who are totally unacquainted with wisdom or philosophy.\nThe military class or executive, however, (\u03c4\u1f78 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd), who are to\nbe the active guardians (\u03c6\u03cd\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03c2) of the State, he requires to be\nproperly taught and disciplined, so that, while obeying the counsellors,\nthey may protect the State from both internal and external danger. As\nthese guardians, therefore, are necessarily to be chosen from the better\nclass of the citizens, they should be of a philosophic turn, of an\nactive will, and of a stern determination (\u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03cc\u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03bf\u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 [*xviii] \u1f30\u03c3\u03c7\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd).[20]\n\nAs respects the training of the military class, that must be effected by\na thorough discipline,\u2014first, in _Gymnastics_, which includes every\nexercise and training of the body, whether patience under hardships, or\nendurance of hunger and thirst\u2014cold or heat; and likewise dancing, all\nbeing practised not only to invigorate the body, but to strengthen the\nspirit and maintain the entire man\u2014the passions, in particular\u2014in\nsubjection to reason;\u2014and secondly, in Music,[21] which Plato held to\ncomprise all imaginative art, the ordinary instruction in grammar, and\nalso science itself, all of which contribute to elevate and enlarge the\nmind, protecting it, at the same time, from all that militates against\nvirtue. More particularly, the \u03c6\u03cd\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03c2 must be kept free from all\nambition and avarice, which are unquestionable obstacles to the proper\nperformance of their civic functions. From these \u03c6\u03cd\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03c2 the chief\nrulers and counsellors of the State (\u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03b1\u03af) are to be chosen; to be\nchosen, too, for their general fitness and estimation:\u2014and those only\nshould be placed in charge, who are endowed with high talent, and have\nall along maintained a life of virtue, superior to that of the other\ncitizens. Furthermore, in the same way as human life can only attain to\nits highest happiness, under the guidance of reason conducting it to the\nhighest good,\u2014so also, a State can only attain to consummate virtue and\nprosperity, when its rulers apply themselves to the investigation of\neternal truth and the contemplation of the highest good. Hence it is,\nthat Plato says (v. 473. c.), the rulers must be philosophers,\u2014not,\nindeed, necessarily occupied in subtle disputations on general subjects\nof investigation, but rather engaged in contemplating the eternal ideas\nof things\u2014truth itself; and they must not only admire the beauty of\nvirtue, but earnestly seek the individual cultivation of it, and teach\nit to others also[22] by the exhibition of its development in their own\npersons.\n\nVirtue, again, whether exercised by individuals or in communities, is\none and the same,[23] comprising, however, four parts:\u2014first, _Wisdom_,\nthe essential qualification of rulers;\u2014secondly, _Courage_, the property\nof the military class who defend the State;\u2014thirdly, _Temperance_, the\ndistinctive quality of a well-ordered and obedient commonalty; and,\nfourthly, _Justice_, by virtue of which each particular class or\nindividual energises in his own sphere, without encroaching on that of\nhis neighbours. The pure exercise of virtue, however, is exceedingly\nrare, either in States or individuals; while, on the other hand, errors\nand defects are constantly observable and ever likely to interfere with\ncorrect action. Hence, applying this remark to Politics, our pattern\nState (\u1f00\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03af\u03b1) will insensibly become vitiated; sinking first into\n\u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03af\u03b1, and thence into \u1f40\u03bb\u03b9\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03af\u03b1, \u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03af\u03b1, and lastly downright\n\u03c4\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03bd\u03af\u03c2, the worst possible mode of social union. No wonder, for if we\ncompare them with the state of the human soul when reason is on her\nthrone, and also when she is dethroned by the passions, we discover\nbetween them a close analogy. From the dominance of the will over reason\nwe realise the idea of _Ambition_; and this seems nearly allied to the\n\u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03af\u03b1 of the Cretans and Spartans (which Plato greatly preferred to\nthe democracy of Athens);\u2014again, when rein is given to the appetite,\nstill other and greater evils arise, and among others, _Avarice_, which\nbears a close analogy to \u1f40\u03bb\u03b9\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03af\u03b1;\u2014thirdly, when the passions are\nfreely indulged, and in a base manner, without regard to order or\ndecency, we have before us \u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03af\u03b1 or mob-rule;\u2014and lastly, when any\none passion or violent emotion exercises sway to the exclusion of all\nthe more generous feelings of our nature, we have an exact picture of\n\u03c4\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03bd\u03af\u03c2, which is the worst species of government, and furthest of all\nremoved from political perfection.\n\nTo return to our pattern State: it must have the principle of permanence\nin healthy operation; and this is best effected by harmony, or, as it\nwere, unity of action in all the members, just as individual virtue\nresults from the harmonious exercise of the collective mental faculties.\nThe various establishments in a State, therefore, must so cohere and\nharmonise, as mutually to aid each other; and the most anxious pains\nmust be taken to protect the State from all influences likely to\ndeteriorate good morals and impair the authority of the government. To\nthis end, then, care must be observed, that no innovations (\u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u1f74\n\u03bd\u03b5\u03c9\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd, Republ. iv. 424. c.) be introduced in the training of youth\nin Gymnastics and Music;\u2014for such innovations, says this ancient\nConservative, have an insidious and destructive tendency. The affairs of\ndomestic life, also, must be so regulated, that no base desires shall\ninvade and disturb the State; and to promote this object, as well as to\nshow that the defenders of the State should consider not so much their\nown individual existence, or their own gratifications, as their\ninseparable connection and membership with the whole State, to the\nwelfare of which the individual man is ever subordinate;\u2014on this\nprinciple must be explained those strange views of the community of\nwives and children, that have always excited the astonishment of those\nnot fully acquainted with the moral ends of the Republic. Individuals\nare, according to this philosopher, members of, and to be merged in, the\nState;\u2014and hence he suggests also, that even the women should undergo\nthe same kind of training with the young men, as they have their\nrespective aptitudes. Thus is a State to be maintained in permanent\nhealth, free from the incursions of civil discord. With whatever\nability, however, a State may be formed, it cannot be permanently\nprosperous without the constant and active exercise of virtue;\u2014and just\nin proportion as sin entails misery and virtue happiness, so, likewise,\nTyranny produces disorder and wretchedness; while Aristocracy, _i. e._,\nPlato\u2019s best form of government, will not fail to exalt the State and\nits several members to the pinnacle of civil happiness and prosperity.\n\nWe have thus briefly sketched the general and ethical system of Plato\u2019s\nPhilosophy, as well as given a general survey of the subject-matter of\nthe Republic; and it is presumed that the student will now be enabled to\ntake up the writings of Plato with improved facilities, and a far\ngreater probability of getting thoroughly acquainted with the notions of\nthat great philosopher.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 17:\n\n  Republ. ix. 583. b.\n\nFootnote 18:\n\n  The relation which, according to Plato, subsists between knowledge and\n  pure pleasure, seems to be in general of the following nature.\u2014in the\n  gradual growth of the human consciousness, pleasure is necessarily\n  combined with cognition,\u2014so however, as that, at one time pleasure, at\n  another cognition, is the dominant and determining element. In the\n  former case, the pleasure is impure and immoderate while in the latter\n  a pure pleasure arises, measured by the truth of Ideas. To avoid the\n  former and pursue the latter, ought, therefore, to be the object of a\n  truly intellectual life.\u2014_Ritter_, ii. p. 396.\n\nFootnote 19:\n\n  In other words,\u2014\u201cThere should be one part to correspond with the\n  reason, to whom the sovereignty is to be entrusted,\u2014a second,\n  answering to spirit, is to assist the sovereign,\u2014and lastly, a third\n  part is made parallel to the appetite, and intended to supply the\n  bodily wants of the community. These are the three social classes\u2014the\n  ruler, the warrior, and the craftsman. Each contributes a peculiar\n  virtue to the general body: by its ruling class it becomes sagacious,\n  bold by its warriors, and temperate by the obedience of the artizan to\n  the orders of his ruler. From the due combination of these virtues in\n  the whole community, results civil justice.\u201d This explanation, so\n  happily expressed by Ritter, is fully authorised by the passages, lib.\n  ii. 427. c.; 433. d.\n\nFootnote 20:\n\n  Republ. ii. 376. c.\n\nFootnote 21:\n\n  These accomplishments, however, he wished to restrain within due\n  bounds, lest their simplicity should become luxurious, and lest they\n  should become incentives to passion and vice. Poetry, in particular,\n  he desires to restrain, dreading its evil influence on the moral\n  habits;\u2014and he almost wishes the expulsion of poets from his ideal\n  State. He looks upon poetry, indeed, as a mere art of imitation,\n  little better than mere illusion and childishness (x. 602. b.\n  c.);\u2014useful, perhaps, for education, but to be placed, for fear of\n  abuse, under the strictest surveillance.\n\nFootnote 22:\n\n  Virtue, according to Plato, in the Meno and Protagoras, may be learnt,\n  so far as it rests on science, in the same sense as science itself is\n  teachable,\u2014_i. e._, originally and naturally it dwells potentially in\n  the soul; and for the right attainment of virtue, nothing more is\n  requisite than a fitting direction of the mind, leading man to\n  contemplate the good through the medium of reflection and memory.\n\nFootnote 23:\n\n  The question, whether virtue is one or many (often raised without\n  receiving any decisive solution), is connected with the more general\n  one, whether _the one_ (\u03c4\u1f78 \u1f15\u03bd) can be manifold or the manifold _one_.\n  From the Dialectic, it must be clear, that on this point Plato came to\n  the conclusion that virtue must both be regarded as one, and in\n  another respect also as many. In a moral point of view, however, this\n  question of the unity of virtue must be taken in quite another sense;\n  for as all good is considered as a due measure and proportion, no\n  single virtue, by itself and apart from the rest, can be truly\n  virtuous. Hence Plato often describes some single virtue as comprising\n  in itself the sum of all virtues. Thus, Justice is often used for\n  virtue in general, because no action, which is not also just, can be\n  virtuous;\u2014and similarly with wisdom, temperance, and valour. In the\n  Protagoras, too, Plato adds a fifth virtue\u2014 \u1f41\u03c3\u03b9\u1f78\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, or piety, and in\n  the Republic (iii. 402, b.) he mentions liberality and magnanimity.\n\n-----\n\n\n\n\n                                  THE\n                           REPUBLIC OF PLATO.\n\n                               ==========\n\n                                BOOK I.\n\n                                \u2014\u2014\u2014\u25cf\u2014\u2014\u2014\n\n                               ARGUMENT.\n\nThe _first_ Book opens with a pleasant and highly dramatic dialogue, in\n    the course of which the happy old Cephalus (a kind of M\u00e6cenas on a\n    small scale) sings the praises of an independent old age, free from\n    anxiety and debt; and this leads Socrates to introduce the\n    discussion of justice, which, by way of provoking inquiry, he first\n    generally defines, as \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f00\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u1fc6 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76, \u1f03 \u1f02\u03bd \u03bb\u03ac\u03b2\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f76\u03c2,\n    \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03b4\u03b9\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9. The more complete definition, however, he first attempts\n    by the negative process, purposely selecting two species of (false\n    or inadequate) justice to be refuted,\u2014thus to make way for the basis\n    of a full and true definition. He then proceeds to consider the\n    constituents of a state\u2014magistrates and subjects; the former of whom\n    he cautions against tyranny\u2014the latter against indecent\n    insubordination; insomuch as neither the one party should have\n    reference to his own private advantage only, nor should the others\n    live without care for the general advantage of the state, nor\n    without a due regard for honest, upright principle.\n\n              SOCRATES,                          ADIMANTUS,\n              CEPHALUS,                         POLEMARCHUS,\n              GLAUCON,                          THRASYMACHUS.\n\n[_The whole is in the form of a narrative related by Socrates in the\n    presence of Tim\u00e6us, Critias, Hermocrates, and another of unknown\n    name.[24]\u2014The scene is in the house of Cephalus at the Pir\u00e6us._]\n\nCHAP. I.\u2014I went down yesterday to the Pir\u00e6us, with Glaucon,[25] son of\nAriston, to pay my devotion to the goddess,\u2014and wishing, at the same\ntime, to observe in what manner they would celebrate the festival, as\nthey were now to do so for the first time.[26] The procession of the\nnatives themselves, indeed, seemed beautiful; yet that which the\nThracians conducted appeared not less elegant. After we had paid our\ndevotions, and seen the solemnity, we were going back to the city, when\nPolemarchus, son of Cephalus, observing us from a distance, hurrying\nhome, bid his boy run and tell us to wait for him; and the boy, taking\nhold of my robe behind, said:\u2014Polemarchus desires you to wait. I turned\nthen and asked, where he was. He is coming after you, answered he: but\npray wait for him. Yes, we will wait, said Glaucon; and just afterwards\ncame Polemarchus and Adimantus, the brother of Glaucon, and Niceratus,\nson of Nicias[27], and some others, as from the procession. Then said\nPolemarchus, Socrates, you seem to me to be hurrying to the city, as on\nyour return. Aye, you do not make a bad guess, said I. See you, then,\nsaid he, how many we are? Yes, of course. Well, then, said he, you must\neither prove yourselves stronger than these, or else remain here. One\nexpedient, said I, is still left; namely, to persuade you that you\nshould let us go. How can you possibly persuade such as will not hear?\nBy no means, said Glaucon. Make up your mind then, that we will not\nhear. But know you not, said Adimantus, that in the evening there is to\nbe a torch-race on horseback to the goddess?[28] On horseback, said I;\nsurely, this is a novelty. Are they to have torches, and to hand them to\none another, contending together on horseback;\u2014or how do you mean? Just\nso, replied Polemarchus. And besides, they will perform a nocturnal\nsolemnity well worth seeing;\u2014for we shall rise after supper and see it\n[the night festival,][29] and shall be there with many of our young\n[friends,] and have a chat. Do you also stay and do the same. It is\nright, I think, said Glaucon, that we should stay. Well,\u2014if you please,\nsaid I, we will so.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 24:\n\n  See the opening of the Tim\u00e6us.\n\nFootnote 25:\n\n  Glaucon and Adimantus were the brothers of Plato. Comp. Xen. Mem. iii.\n  6.\n\nFootnote 26:\n\n  The festival here alluded to is the \u0392\u03b5\u03bd\u03b4\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1, in which Artemis or\n  Bendis was worshipped agreeably to the custom of the Thracians.\n\nFootnote 27:\n\n  Nicias was one of the leading Athenian generals in the Peloponnesian\n  war.\n\nFootnote 28:\n\n  In the Panathen\u00e6an, Heph\u00e6stian, and Promethean festivals, it was\n  customary for young men to run with torches or lamps lighted from the\n  sacrificial altar; and in this contest that person only was\n  victorious, whose lamp remained unextinguished in the race. We are\n  here forcibly reminded of the figure used by Plato in the Laws, vi. p.\n  776 b, and also of Lucretius, ii. verse 78:\u2014\n\n               Inque brevi spatio mutantur s\u00e6cla animantum,\n               Et quasi cursores vita\u00ef lampada tradunt.\n\nFootnote 29:\n\n  By this nocturnal solemnity are meant the lesser Panathen\u00e6a, which, as\n  the name implies, were sacred to Athena. As in the greater Panathen\u00e6a\n  they carried about the veil of Athena, on which were represented the\n  giants vanquished by the Olympian gods, so in the lesser Panathen\u00e6a\n  another veil was exhibited, in which the Athenians, who were the\n  pupils of Athena, were represented victorious in the battle against\n  the inhabitants of the Atlantic island.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. II.\u2014We went home therefore to Polemarchus\u2019s [house,] and there we\nfound, both Lysias and Euthydemus, brothers of Polemarchus,\u2014likewise\nThrasymachus the Chalcedonian, Charmantides the P\u00e6oneian, and Clitiphon\nthe son of Aristonymus. Cephalus, the father of Polemarchus, was\nlikewise in the house; and he seemed to me to have become a good deal\naged, for I had not seen him for a long time. He was sitting crowned on\na cushioned seat; for he had been offering sacrifice in the inner court.\nSo we sat down by him; for some seats stood there in a circle.\nImmediately, therefore, on seeing me, Cephalus saluted me, and said:\nSocrates, you do not often come down to us to the Pir\u00e6us, though you\nought; for, could I still easily go up to the city, there would have\nbeen no need for you to come hither, but we should have gone up to you.\nAs it is, however, you should come hither more frequently; for be\nassured that with me, the more bodily pleasures decay, the more also do\nthe desires and pleasures of conversation increase. Do not then fail us,\nbut accompany these youths, and resort hither, as to friends, and very\ndear friends too. As for me, Cephalus, said I, I am delighted to\nconverse with persons well advanced in years; for it appears to me a\nduty to learn from them, as from persons who have gone before us, on a\nroad which we too must necessarily travel, what kind of road it\nis\u2014\u2014whether rough and difficult, or level and easy. Moreover, I would\ngladly learn from you (as you are now at that time of life which the\npoets call the threshold of old age), what your opinion of it is,\nwhether it be a burdensome part of life, or how you describe it.\n\nCHAP. III.\u2014By Zeus![30] said he, I will tell you, Socrates, what I, for\nmy part, think of it; for several of us, who are of the same age,\nfrequently meet together in the same place, observing the old\nproverb.[31] Most of us, therefore, when we are together, complain of\nmissing the pleasures of youth, calling to remembrance the pleasures of\nlove, those of drinking and feasting, and such like: and they are\nmightily in dudgeon, as being bereaved of some great things,\u2014having once\nlived happily, but now scarce living at all. Some of them, too, bemoan\nthe contempt which old age meets with from intimate friends: and, on\nthis account, they whine about old age, as being the cause of so many of\ntheir ills. To me, however, Socrates, these men seem not to blame the\n[real] cause; for, if this were the cause, I myself likewise should have\nsuffered these very same things through old age,\u2014and all others,\nlikewise, who have come to these years. Now I have met with several not\nthus affected; and particularly I was once in company with Sophocles the\npoet, when he was asked by some one: How, said he, do you feel,\nSophocles, as to the pleasures of love; are you still able to enjoy\nthem? Softly, friend, replied he;\u2014most gladly, indeed, have I escaped\nfrom these pleasures, as from some furious and savage master.[32] To me,\nthen, he, at that time, seemed to speak well, and now not less so: for,\non the whole, as respects such things there is in old age great peace\nand freedom; because, when the appetites cease to be vehement and have\nlet go their hold, what Sophocles said, most certainly happens; we are\ndelivered from very many, and those too, furious masters. With relation\nto these things, however, and what concerns our intimates, there is one\nand the same cause; which is, not old age, Socrates, but the disposition\nof [different] men: for, if they be discreet and moderate, even old age\nis but moderately burdensome: but if not, Socrates,\u2014to such an one, both\nold age and youth are grievous.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 30:\n\n  The translator wishes it to be understood, that in compliance with a\n  now pretty general custom, he has preserved the Greek mythological\n  names; Zeus for Jupiter, Athena for Minerva, Poseidon for Neptune,\n  Artemis for Diana, and so on.\n\nFootnote 31:\n\n  This alludes to the well-known Greek adage\u2014\u1f25\u03bb\u03b9\u03be \u1f25\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1 \u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9. Nearly\n  the whole of this and the following chapter is quoted by Cicero, de\n  Senect. ch. 3.\n\nFootnote 32:\n\n  This passage was evidently in the view of Cicero, when he wrote as\n  follows:\u2014Quum ex eo quidam jam affecto \u00e6tate qu\u00e6reret, utereturne\n  rebus venereis:\u2014Dii meliora, inquit, s. lubenter ver\u00f2 istinc tanquam \u00e0\n  domino agresti ac furioso profugi.\u2014Cato Maj. ch. 47.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. IV.\u2014Delighted to hear him say these things, and wishing him to\ndiscourse further, I urged him, and said: I fancy, Cephalus, the\ngenerality will not agree with you in these opinions; but will imagine\nthat you bear old age easily, not owing to your natural bias, but from\npossessing much wealth; for the rich, say they, have many\nconsolations.[33] True, replied he; they do not agree with me; and there\nis something in what they say, yet not so much as they imagine. The\nsaying of Themistocles, however, is just; who, when the Seriphian[34]\nreviled him, and said, that he was honoured, not on his own account, but\non account of his country, replied, that neither would himself have been\nrenowned, had he been a Seriphian, nor would he, the [Seriphian,] had he\nbeen an Athenian. To those likewise, who are not rich and bear old age\nwith impatience, the same saying fairly applies;\u2014that neither would the\nworthy man bear old age with poverty quite easily, nor would he who is\nunworthy, though enriched, ever be agreeable to himself. But, [tell me,]\nCephalus, said I; was the greater part of what you possess, left you, or\ndid you acquire it [yourself?] Somewhat, Socrates, replied he, I have\nacquired: as to money-getting I am in a medium between my grandfather\nand my father: for my grandfather of the same name with myself, who was\nleft almost as much property as I possess at present, increased it\nmanifold; while my father Lysanias made it yet less than it is now: I,\non the other hand, am content, if I can leave my sons here not less, but\nsome little more than I received. I asked you, said I, for this\nreason,\u2014because you seem to me to have no excessive love for riches; and\nthis is generally the case with those who have not acquired them; while\nthose who have acquired them [themselves,] are doubly fond of them:[35]\nfor, as poets love their own poems, and as parents love their own\nchildren,\u2014in the same manner, too, those who have enriched themselves,\nvalue their wealth, as their own production, as well as for its\nutility,\u2014on which ground it is valued by others. True, replied he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 33:\n\n  This seems to allude to the very common Greek adage\u2014\u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2\n  \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u1f14\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03cd\u03b8\u03b9\u03b1.\n\nFootnote 34:\n\n  From Seriphus, one of the Cyclades.\n\nFootnote 35:\n\n  Aristotle expresses nearly the same sentiments in the Nicom. Eth. iv.\n  1, and ix. 4.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. V.\u2014Aye, entirely so, said I. But further, tell me this;\u2014-what do\nyou conceive to be the greatest good realized through the possession of\nextensive property? That, probably, said he, of which I shall not\npersuade the generality, were I even to mention it. For, be assured,\nSocrates, continued he, that, after a man begins to think he is soon to\ndie, he becomes inspired with a fear and concern about things, that had\nnot entered his head before: for those stories concerning a future\nstate, which tell us, that the man who has been unjust here must be\npunished hereafter, have a tendency, much as he formerly ridiculed them,\nto trouble his soul at such a time with apprehensions, that they may be\ntrue; and the man, either through the infirmity of old age, or being\nnow, as it were, in closer proximity to them, views them more\nattentively, and consequently becomes full of suspicion and dread, and\nreflects and considers whether he has in any thing done any one a wrong.\nThat man, then, who discovers in his own life much of iniquity, and,\nlike children, constantly starting in his sleep, is full of terrors, and\nlives on with scarce a hope of the future. But with the man who is not\nconscious of any such iniquity,\n\n                          Hope, the solace of old age,\n                  Is ever present,\n\nAs Pindar says: for this, Socrates, he has beautifully expressed, that\nwhoever lives a life of justice and holiness,\n\n           With him to cheer his heart, the nurse of age,\n           Sweet hope abides, companion blest, that sways\n           With power supreme the changeful mind of man.[36]\n\nIn this he speaks well, and with great elegance. In conformity with this\nthought, therefore, I deem the possession of riches to be chiefly\nvaluable, not to every man indeed, but to the man of worth: for as\nrespects liberating us from the temptation of cheating or deceiving\nagainst our will,\u2014or again from departing thither in fear, because we\nowe either sacrifices to God, or money to man,\u2014for this, indeed, the\npossession of money has great advantages. It has many other also;\u2014but\nfor my part, Socrates, that seems not the least, among all others, which\nproves its high advantage to a man of understanding.\n\nYou speak admirably, Cephalus, replied I:\u2014but this very thing,\n_Justice_,\u2014shall we call it Truth, simply, and the restoring what one\nhas received from another,\u2014or shall we say, that it is possible to do\nthe very same things at one time justly and at another unjustly? My\nmeaning is somewhat as follows: Every one would probably be of opinion,\nthat if a man received arms from a friend in sound mind, and that person\nshould demand them back when mad, it would not be proper to restore such\narticles, nor would the restorer be just;[37] nor again, [would he] who,\nto a man so situated, should willingly tell the whole truth. Right,\nreplied he. This, then, is not the definition of justice, [namely,] to\nspeak the truth, and restore what one has received. Of course it is,\nSocrates, replied Polemarchus taking up the subject, if at least we are\nto believe Simonides. However that be, said Cephalus, I leave this\nconversation to you; for I must now go to attend to the sacred\nrites.[38] Well then, is not Polemarchus, said I, the heir of your\n[argument?] Certainly, replied he, smiling, and went off to the sacred\nrites.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 36:\n\n  This passage will be found in Boeckh\u2019s Fragm. Pind. 243, vol. ii. p.\n  2, p. 682.\n\nFootnote 37:\n\n  Comp. Cicero de Off. iii. 25.\n\nFootnote 38:\n\n  Cicero very elegantly refers to this passage in his Epistles to\n  Atticus, iv. 16.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. VI.\u2014Tell me, then, said I, you who are heir in the conversation,\nwhat is it, that you affirm Simonides to have correctly alleged about\njustice? That to restore to each his due, is just, replied he: in saying\nthis, he seems, to me at least, to speak correctly. Aye, indeed, said I,\nwe cannot easily discredit Simonides; for he is a wise and divine\nman:\u2014but as to his meaning in this passage, you, Polemarchus, are\nprobably acquainted with it, but I am not; for it is plain he does not\nmean what we were saying just now,\u2014that, when one has deposited any\nthing with us, we should return it to him, even if he demand it in his\ninsanity: and yet the thing deposited is in some sense due, is it not?\nIt is. At least, then, [you will grant] it must on no account whatever\nbe restored, when a man asks for it in his insanity? True, replied he.\nSimonides then, it would seem, has some other meaning than this, in\nsaying that to deliver up what is due, is just? Yes,\u2014one quite\ndifferent, replied he: for he is of opinion, that friends ought to do\ntheir friends good\u2014not ill. I understand, said I;\u2014that man does not give\nback what is due, who restores money deposited with him, if the\nrepayment and receipt be really hurtful, and the receiver and restorer\nbe friends:\u2014is not this what you allege Simonides to say? Surely. What\nthen?\u2014are we to give our enemies, also, what may chance to be their due?\nBy all means, said he, what is really due to them; and from an enemy to\nan enemy, there is due, I imagine, what is fitting too,\u2014namely some\nevil.\n\nCHAP. VII.\u2014Simonides, then, it would seem, replied I, defined the nature\nof justice somewhat enigmatically, and after the manner of the poets;\nfor it seems he had a notion, that justice consists in giving every one\nwhat was expedient for him; and this he called his due. But what is your\nopinion? said he. By Zeus, replied I, if any one then should ask him\nthus,\u2014Simonides, what is the art, which, dispensing to certain persons\nsomething fitting and due, is called medicine, what, think you, would he\nanswer us? That art, surely, replied he, which dispenses drugs to the\nbody, and also meats and drinks. And what is the art, which, dispensing\nto certain things something fitting and due, is called cookery? The art\nwhich gives seasonings to victuals. Granted. What then, is that art,\nwhich may be called justice, as dispensing to certain persons something\nfitting and due? If we ought to be at all directed, Socrates, by what\nhas been said above, [it is] the art which dispenses good offices to\nfriends, and injuries to enemies. To do good, then, to friends, and ill\nto enemies, he calls justice? It seems so. Who then can best serve his\nfriends, when they are sick, and most ill to his enemies, as either in\nsickness or health? A physician. And who to those at sea, as respects\ndanger on the sea? A pilot. But what as to the just man? In what\nbusiness, and with respect to what action, can he most serve his friends\nand harm his foes? In fighting in alliance with the one, and against the\nother,\u2014so far as I think. Just so; but at any rate, to those who are not\nsick, Polemarchus, the physician is useless? Aye. And the pilot, to\nthose who do not sail? He is. And is the just man, in like manner,\nuseless to those not engaged in war? This, at any rate, is not at all my\nopinion. Is justice, then, useful also in time of peace? Yes, useful,\ntoo. And so is agriculture, is it not? Yes. Towards the getting in of\ncrops? Yes. And is not shoemaking useful too? Yes. Towards the\npossession of shoes, methinks you will say? Certainly. But what then?\nFor the use or possession of what is it, that would you say justice were\nuseful in time of peace? For contracts, Socrates! By these contracts do\nyou mean copartnerships, or what else? Copartnerships, certainly. Well\nthen; is the just man or the dice-player, a good and useful copartner\nfor playing at dice? The dice-player. But, in the laying of tiles or\nstones, is the just man a more useful and a better partner than the\nbuilder? By no means. In what copartnership then, is the just man a\nbetter copartner than the harper, as the harper is better than the just\nman for touching the strings of a harp? In one about money, as I\nimagine. And yet perhaps, with regard to the use of money, Polemarchus,\nwhen it is necessary jointly to buy or sell a horse, then, I should\nthink, the jockey is the better copartner, is he not? He would appear\nso. And with respect to a ship, the shipwright or pilot? It seems so.\nWhen is it, then, with respect to the joint application of money, that\nthe just man is more useful than others? When it is to be deposited and\nbe safe, Socrates! Do you not mean when there is no need to use it, but\nto leave it in deposit? Certainly. When money then, is useless, justice\nis still useful with regard to it? It seems likely. When, therefore, one\nwants to put by a pruning-hook, justice is useful, both for a community\nand for a particular person: but when one wants to use it, then the art\nof vine-dressing [is useful.] It seems so. You will say, likewise, that\nwhen a shield or a lyre is to be kept and not used, then justice is\nuseful; but when they are to be used, then the arts of warfare and\nmusic? Of course. And with reference to all other things, when they are\nto be used, justice is useless; but when they are not to be used, it is\nuseful? It seems so.\n\nCHAP. VIII.\u2014Justice, then, my friend, can be no very important matter,\nif it is useful only in respect of things not to be used. But let us\nconsider this matter:\u2014is not he who is the cleverest at striking in a\nfight, whether with the fists or some other way, the cleverest likewise,\nin self-defence? Certainly. And as to the person who is clever in\nwarding off and escaping from a distemper, is he not very clever also in\nbringing it on? So I suppose. And he too the best guardian of a camp,\nwho can steal the counsels, and the other operations of the enemy?\nCertainly. Of whatever, then, any one is a good guardian, of that\nlikewise he is a clever thief. It seems so. If, therefore, the just man\nbe clever in guarding money, he is clever likewise in stealing. So it\nwould seem, said he, from this reasoning. The just man, then, has been\nshewn to be a sort of thief; and it is likely you have learned this from\nHomer; for he not only admires Autolycus, the maternal grandfather of\nUlysses, but says, that he was distinguished beyond all men for\nthievishness and swearing.[39] Justice, then, seems in your opinion as\nwell as in that of Homer and Simonides, to be a sort of thieving carried\non for the benefit of our friends on the one hand, and for the injury of\nour enemies on the other:\u2014did not you say so? No, by Zeus, I did not;\nnor, indeed, do I any longer know what I was saying:\u2014yet it is still my\nopinion, that justice benefits friends, but injures foes. But [tell me,]\nwhether you pronounce such to be friends, as seem to be honest; or such\nmerely as are so, though not seeming so;\u2014and in the same way as to\nenemies? It is reasonable, said he, to love those whom one deems honest,\nand to hate those [one deems] wicked. But do not men fall into error on\nthis point, so that many appear to them honest who are not so, and many\nthe contrary? Yes, they do. To such as these, then, the good are\nenemies, and the bad friends? Certainly. But still is it, in that case,\njust for them to benefit the wicked, and hurt the good? So it seems. The\ngood, moreover, are just, and incapable of doing any ill. True.\nAccording to your argument, then, is it just to do those harm, who do no\nharm [themselves?] By no means [think that,] Socrates, replied he; for\nthat opinion seems to be vicious. With respect to the unjust, then, said\nI, is it right to injure these, but to do good to the just? This opinion\nseems fairer than the other. To many, then, it will occur [to think,]\nPolemarchus,\u2014that is, to as many as have formed wrong opinions of\nmen,\u2014that they may justly hurt their friends (for they are wicked to\nthem), and, on the other hand, benefit their enemies, inasmuch as they\nare good:\u2014and thus we shall state the very reverse of what we alleged\nSimonides to say. That is precisely the case, said he:\u2014but, let us\nchange our definition; for we seem not to have rightly defined a friend\nand a foe. How were they defined, Polemarchus? That he who seems honest,\nis a friend. How then are we now to alter our definition, said I? That\nthe person, replied he, who seems, and also is honest, is a friend; but\nthat he who is apparently honest, but not really so, seems to be, yet is\nnot [really] a friend: the definition, too, respecting an enemy, exactly\ncorresponds. The good man, according to this reasoning, will, it seems,\nbe a friend; and the wicked man a foe? Yes. Do you bid us then make an\naddition to our former definition of justice, by saying that it is just\nto serve a friend and harm a foe:\u2014and are we now to say, in addition to\nthis, that it is just to serve a friend who is good, but to hurt an\nenemy who is bad? This last, said he, seems to me perfectly well\nexpressed.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 39:\n\n             \u039c\u03b7\u03c4\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f11\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u2019 \u1f10\u03c3\u03b8\u03bb\u1f78\u03bd, \u1f43\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03ce\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f10\u03ba\u03ad\u03ba\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\n             \u039a\u03bb\u03b5\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u1fc3 \u03b8\u2019, \u1f45\u03c1\u03ba\u1ff3\u03c4\u03b5.\u2014Odyss. xix. 395.\n\n          His mother\u2019s noble sire, who all mankind\n          In furtive arts and fraudful oaths excelled.\u2014_Cowper._\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. IX.\u2014Is it the just man\u2019s part, then, said I, to hurt any one\nmortal whatever? By all means, said he; the wicked at least, and his\nenemies, he ought certainly to injure. And horses, when hurt, do they\nbecome better or worse? Worse. Do they so, as regards the virtue of dogs\nor horses? That of horses. And, do not dogs, when hurt, become worse as\nregards the virtue of dogs, but not of horses? Necessarily so. As to\nmen, then, friend, may we not likewise say, that when hurt, they become\nworse with reference to man\u2019s virtue? Certainly. But is not justice a\nhuman virtue? This too we must [allow.] It follows, then, friend, that\nthose men who are hurt become more unjust? It seems so. Can musicians,\nthen, by music, make men unmusical? Impossible.\u2014Or horsemen, by\nhorsemanship, make men unskilled in horsemanship? They cannot. Is it\npossible, either, that by justice the just [can make men] unjust; or in\ngeneral that by virtue, the good can make men wicked? It is impossible.\n[Yes,] for it is not, methinks, the effect of heat to make cold, but\n[the effect] of its contrary? Yes. Nor of drought to make moist, but\nthat of its contrary? Certainly. Neither is it the part of a good man to\nhurt, but that of his contrary? It appears so. But, at any rate, the\njust is good? Certainly. Neither, then, is it the part of a just man,\nPolemarchus, to hurt either friend or any other, but [that] of his\ncontrary, the unjust man. In all respects, Socrates, said he, you seem\nto reason truly. If, then, any one affirms it just to give every one his\ndue, and consequently thinks this within himself, that injury is due\nfrom a just man to enemies, but service to friends,\u2014he was not wise who\nsaid so, for he spoke not the truth:\u2014for in no case has the justice been\nproved of injuring any one at all. I agree, said he. You and I then will\njointly dispute the point, said I, if any one allege, that Simonides, or\nBias, or Pittacus, or any other of those wise and happy men said so. I\nam ready, for my part, said he, to take part in this discussion. But\nknow you, said I, whose saying I conceive it to be,\u2014that it is just to\nserve friends, and hurt enemies? Whose, said he? I conceive it to be\nPeriander\u2019s, or Perdiccas\u2019s, or Xerxes\u2019s, or Ismenius\u2019s, the Theban, or\nof some other rich man, who thought himself mightily important. You say\nmost truly, said he. Be it so, said I:\u2014but as this has not been shewn to\nbe justice nor the just, what else may one say it is?\n\nCHAP. X.\u2014Now Thrasymachus had frequently during our discourse been on\nthe point of breaking in upon the discussion with some objection,[40]\nbut was hindered by the sitters-by, who wanted to hear out the\nconversation. When, however, we came to a pause, and after my making\nthese last remarks, he could no longer keep quiet; but, taking his\nspring like a wild beast, attacked us, as if he would tear us in pieces.\nBoth myself and Polemarchus were frightened and terror-struck. But he,\nraising his voice in the midst, cried out:\u2014What is this, Socrates, which\nhas so long possessed you; and why do you thus play the fool together,\nconceding mutually to one another? But if in particular you really want\nto know the nature of justice, do not only ask questions, and value\nyourself in refuting the answers you may get, well knowing that it is\neasier to ask than to answer; but answer yourself, and state your own\nview of the nature of justice. And [take care] that you do not tell me\nthat it is what is fit, or what is due, or what is profitable, or what\nis gainful, or what is expedient; but, whatever you mean, express it\nplainly and accurately; for I will not allow you to utter such trifles\nas these. I was astounded on hearing this; and when I looked at him, I\nwas frightened; and, methinks, had I not perceived him before he\nperceived me, I should have become speechless.[41] But just when he\nbegan to grow fierce under our discussion, I observed him first, so that\nI was now able to answer him, and said, somewhat in a flutter:\u2014Be not\nhard on us, Thrasymachus; if I and he [Polemarchus] err in the working\nout of our arguments, be well assured we err unwittingly: for, think\nnot, that if we were searching for gold, we would ever wittingly yield\nto one another in the search, thus frustrating all chance of discovering\nit, and yet searching for justice,\u2014a matter far more valuable than gold,\nfoolishly make concessions to each other, and not labour with the utmost\nardour for its discovery:\u2014think you so, friend? Nay, methinks, we could\nnot. That we should be sympathized with by your clever[42] persons is\nfar more to be expected then, than that we should be treated with\ncontempt.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 40:\n\n  For this sense of \u1f00\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03b2\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9, comp. book vi. p. 497 d, and p.\n  504; also Gorgias, 506 a.\n\nFootnote 41:\n\n  This alludes to the popular belief that men were rendered speechless\n  by the fixed look of a wolf; but this, they thought, was not the case,\n  if they saw the wolf first.\n\nFootnote 42:\n\n  \u1f51\u03c6\u2019 \u1f51\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd, alluding of course to the Sophists, who deemed\n  themselves emphatically \u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03af. Comp. Protagor. p. 341 a.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XI.\u2014On hearing this he [Thrasymachus] gave a disdainful sort of\nlaugh, and said:\u2014By Heracles, this is Socrates\u2019s wonted irony; and this\nI both knew, and foretold to these here,\u2014that you never incline to\nanswer, but use your irony, and do any thing rather than answer, if any\none asks you any thing. Aye; you are a wise man, Thrasymachus, said I;\nfor you knew well, that if you asked any one, how many make twelve; and,\nif asking, you should tell him, you must not tell me, man, that twelve\nare twice six,\u2014or three times four,\u2014or four times three; because I will\nnot admit it, if you are such a trifler; it was plain to you, methinks,\nthat no man would answer one so inquiring. But if he should say to you,\nWhat mean you, Thrasymachus, may I not answer in any of these ways you\nhave told me,\u2014not even though the real answer happen to be one of them;\nbut am I rather to say something else than the truth? Or, how is it you\nmean? What would you say to him in reply to these things? If they were\nalike, I should give an answer; for the one, forsooth, is like the\nother. That is no real objection, said I[43]; but even if it be not\nlike, but only appears so to him who has been asked, do you think he\nwould the less readily express his opinion, whether we should forbid him\nor not? And, will you do so now? said he. Will you state, in reply, some\nof those things which I forbade you to say? I should not wonder, if I\ndid, said I, if it appeared so to me on inquiry. What, then, said he, if\nI should shew you another answer, besides all these about justice, and\nbetter, too, than these,\u2014what will you deserve to suffer? What else,\nsaid I, but what the ignorant ought to suffer?\u2014and it is proper,\nperhaps, to learn from a wise man I consequently deserve to suffer this.\nYou are merry now, said he; but besides learning, you must pay money\ntoo. Aye, when I have it, said I. We have got some, said Glaucon; but,\nas for the money, Thrasymachus, say on, for all of us will club for\nSocrates. By all means, I think, said he, in order that Socrates may go\non in his usual manner,\u2014not answer himself, but when another answers,\ntake up the discourse and confute. How, then, in the first place, my\ngood fellow, said I, can a man answer, when he neither knows, nor\npretends to know; and when, supposing him to have any opinion at all\nabout these matters, he is forbidden to say what he thinks by no\nordinary person? But it is more reasonable, then, that you speak, as you\nsay you know, and can tell us. Do not refuse, then, but oblige me by\nanswering, and do not begrudge instructing Glaucon here, and the rest of\nthe company.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 43:\n\n  Thrasymachus here alleges with a sneer, that the example adduced by\n  Socrates had no connection with the subject treated in the last\n  chapter.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XII.\u2014On my saying this, both Glaucon and the rest of the company\nentreated him not to decline it:\u2014and Thrasymachus in particular, was\nevidently most anxious to speak, in order to gain applause, reckoning he\nhad a mighty clever answer to make, and pretending to be earnest that I\nshould be the answerer; but at last he agreed. Now, this, forsooth, said\nhe, is the wisdom of Socrates, that he himself is unwilling to teach,\nbut goes about learning from others, and gives no thanks for it. That I\nlearn from others, Thrasymachus, is quite true, said I; but in saying,\nthat I do not thank persons for it, you are wrong. I pay as much as I am\nable, and I can only give them praise, for money I have none; but how\nreadily I do this, when any one appears to me to speak well, you shall\nperfectly know directly, whenever you make your answer; for methinks you\nwill speak well. Hear, then, said he, for I say that the just is nothing\nelse but what is expedient for the strongest.[44] But why do not you\ncommend?\u2014Ah! you do not like that. Let me learn first, said I, what it\nis you are talking about; for as yet I know not. That which is expedient\nfor the strongest you say, is the just. And what, at all, is it that you\nare talking of now, Thrasymachus? for you certainly do not mean any\nthing like this. If Polydamas, the wrestler,[45] be stronger than we,\nand if beef be better for his body, this food is likewise both just and\nbeneficial to us, who are weaker than himself. You are a saucy fellow,\nSocrates, and lay hold of my argument just on that side where you may\ndamage it most. By no means, my good fellow, said I; but say more\nplainly what is your meaning. Know you not, then, said he, that with\nreference to States, some are tyrannical, others democratical, and\nothers aristocratical? Of course. And is not the governing part of each\nState the more powerful? Certainly: and every government makes laws\nprecisely to suit itself,\u2014a democracy, democratic laws; a tyranny,\ntyrannic; and the rest in like manner:\u2014and when they have made them,\nthey declare that to be just for the governed, which is advantageous for\nthemselves, and any one who transgresses it, they punish as one acting\ncontrary both to law and justice. This, then, most excellent Socrates,\nis what I say, that in all States the same thing constitutes justice,\nviz., what is expedient for the established government. This, then, is\nthe fact with him who reasons rightly, that in all cases whatever that\nsame is just which is expedient for the more powerful. Now, said I, I\nunderstand what you mean. But as to its truth or otherwise, I will try\nto find out. As for the expedient, then, even you yourself,\nThrasymachus, have affirmed it to be the just; and yet, though you\nforbade me to give the answer, still you are adding the expression _of\nthe more powerful_. Quite a trifling addition, perhaps, said he. It is\nnot clear yet, whether it is small or great; but it is clear that we\nmust inquire whether you speak the truth, since I, too, acknowledge that\nthe just is something that is expedient; but you say, in addition, that\nit is that also which belongs to the most powerful. This I am not sure\nof; but that is what we have to inquire. Inquire then, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 44:\n\n  The Sophists were used to recommend that the laws of a state should be\n  made by the most powerful and influential, and that in making them it\n  was quite right that they should consult their own advantage, there\n  being no fixed standard for virtue and justice, but only that of\n  expediency. Comp. Gorgias, p. 483, b, c, d; and Protagor. p. 337.\n\nFootnote 45:\n\n  A celebrated wrestler of Scotussa in Thessaly, who won the prize in\n  the Pancratium, at the Olympic games, B.C. 408. He was of immense\n  size; and it is related of him, that he killed without arms a huge and\n  fierce lion on Mount Olympus, and could stop a chariot at full gallop.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XIII.\u2014We will do so, said I:\u2014and, tell me,\u2014do you not say, that it\nis just to obey governors? Yes, I do. Are the governors in the several\nstates infallible, or are they capable of erring? Certainly, said he,\nthey are liable to err. When they set about making laws, then, do they\nnot make some of them right, and some of them wrong? I think so. To make\nthem right, then, is to make them expedient for themselves, and to make\nthem not right, [is that] inexpedient;\u2014or how mean you? Just so. And\nwhat they enact is to be observed by the governed; and this is what is\njust? Of course. According to your reasoning, then, it is just, to do\nwhat is expedient to the stronger, while the contrary is what is not\nexpedient:\u2014what say you, replied he? I am of the same opinion as\nyourself. But let us inquire better. Is it not granted, that governors\nin bidding the governed do certain things, may sometimes be in error as\nto what is best for themselves; and that what the governors enjoin, is\njust for the governed to do? Have not these [truths] been granted? I\nthink so, said he. Consider also, therefore, said I, that you have\nallowed it to be just to do what is inexpedient for governors and the\nmore powerful, whenever governors unwillingly enjoin what is ill for\nthemselves; and yet you say, that it is just for the others to do what\nthese enjoin. Must it not necessarily happen, then, most sage\nThrasymachus, that, in this case, it may be just to do the contrary of\nwhat you say; for that which is the disadvantage of the more powerful,\nis sometimes enjoined on the inferiors? Yes, by Zeus, said Polemarchus,\nthese things are quite clear, Socrates. Yes, if you bear him witness,\nsaid Clitiphon in rejoinder. What need, said I, of a witness?\u2014for\nThrasymachus himself acknowledges that governors sometimes order what is\nill for themselves, and that it is just for the governed to do these\nthings. Aye, Polemarchus; for he laid it down, that it is just to do\nwhat is bidden by the governors, and he has also defined that as just,\nClitiphon, which is expedient for the more powerful; and, having laid\ndown both these propositions, he has granted that the more powerful\nsometimes bid the inferiors and governed to do what is inexpedient for\nthemselves; and, from these concessions, what is expedient for the more\npowerful can no more be just than what is not expedient. But he alleged,\nsaid Clitiphon, that what was expedient for the strongest was what the\nstrongest judged expedient for himself; this, too, was to be done by the\ninferior, and this he defined as the just. Aye,\u2014but that was not stated,\nsaid Polemarchus. There is no difference, Polemarchus, said I; but, if\nThrasymachus says so now, so let us understand him.\n\nCHAP. XIV.\u2014Now tell me, Thrasymachus; was this what you meant by\njustice,\u2014namely, the advantage of the more powerful, such as appeared so\nto the more powerful, whether it really were so, or not:\u2014shall we say\nthat you mean this? Not at all, said he:\u2014for, think you, I call him who\nerrs, the more powerful, at the time he errs? For my part, said I, I\nthought you meant this, when you acknowledged that governors were not\ninfallible, but that in some things even they erred. You are a\nsycophant, said he, in reasoning, Socrates![46] For, for instance do you\ncall him a physician, who errs about the treatment of the sick, in\nrespect of that very thing in which he errs; or him a reasoner, who errs\nin reasoning, at the very time he errs, and with reference to that very\nerror? But, we say, in common language, I fancy, that the physician\nerred, the reasoner erred, and the grammarian likewise; but in fact I\nthink, each of these, so far as he is what we designate him, never errs;\nso that, strictly speaking (especially as you are a strict reasoner), no\nartist errs;\u2014for he who errs, errs through defect of science, in what he\nis not an artist; and hence no artist, or wise man, or governor, errs,\nin so far as he is a governor. Yet every one would say \u2018the physician\nerred,\u2019 and \u2018the governor erred.\u2019 You must understand, then, that it was\nin this way I just now answered you. But the most accurate answer is\nthis:\u2014that the governor, in as far as he is governor, errs not; and as\nhe does not err, he enacts that which is best for himself, and this must\nbe observed by the governed. So that as I said at the beginning, I call\njustice the doing that which is for the advantage of the strongest [_i.\ne._ the best].\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 46:\n\n  There was a prevalent corruption in the law-courts of Athens, which at\n  length gave rise to a separate class,\u2014the infamous sycophants, who\n  lived by extortion and making criminal charges against the opulent\n  citizens of timid natures and quiet habits, who were ordinarily led to\n  purchase the silence of these informers, who hence rose to wealth and\n  importance.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XV.\u2014Be it so, said I, Thrasymachus;\u2014but do I seem to you to act\nthe sycophant? Aye, surely, said he. Do you think that I insidiously\nmislead you in the argument, to put the question to you as I did? I know\nit well, said he, and you shall gain nothing by it; for neither shall\nyou mislead me unawares, nor can you unawares get the better of me in\nargument. I shall not attempt it, said I, my excellent friend, but, that\nnothing of this kind may happen to us again,\u2014define in which way you\nspeak of a ruler, and superior, according only to common talk, or in the\nstrict sense of the word, as you just now said, he, whose advantage, in\nthat he is the more powerful, it is just for the inferior to observe. [I\nspeak of him,] who is a ruler in the strictest sense of the word. For\nthis now abuse and calumniate me, as you like. I do not deprecate your\ndoing so; but you are quite unable. Do you think me so mad, said I, as\nto attempt to shave a lion,[47] and traduce Thrasymachus? You have just\nattempted it, said he, but with no effect. Enough of such matters, said\nI; but tell me he who is, strictly speaking, a physician, whom you just\nnow mentioned, is he a gainer of money, or a tender of the sick?\u2014and\nmind\u2014tell us of him who is really a physician. A tender of the sick,\nsaid he. But what of the pilot? is he who is really a pilot, a master of\nsailors, or a sailor? A master of sailors. It matters not, I fancy, that\nhe sails in a ship, and is not to be called a sailor; for he it is not\ncalled a pilot from his sailing, but from his art, and his mastery of\nthe sailors. True, said he. Has not each of these, then, something that\nis advantageous for him? Certainly. Was not the art then acquired for\nthis very purpose, said I, to seek out and supply to each what is\nadvantageous for him? For that purpose, said he. To each of the arts,\nthen, is any other advantage wanting, than to be as perfect as\npossible?\u2014How mean you by this question? If you were to ask me, said I,\nwhether it is sufficient for the body to be a body, or whether it needs\nsomething else, I should say, that it certainly does stand in need of\nsomething else. For this reason, indeed, has the medicinal art been\nalready invented, because the body is infirm, and it is not sufficient\nfor it to be such as it is:\u2014in order then to supply what is advantageous\nfor it, art has been provided. Do you think then, said I, that I am\nright, or not, in thus speaking? Right, said he. But what then? Is this\nvery art of medicine, or any other whatever, imperfect, as being\ndeficient in a certain virtue; just as the eyes, when deficient as to\nsight, and the ears as to hearing; and for these reasons need they a\ncertain additional art to seek out and furnish what is expedient for\nthese very organs? Is there then in art itself some imperfection, and\ndoes every art need another art, to consider what is expedient for it,\nand does that which considers again need another, and so on to infinity;\nor will each art consider what is expedient for itself; or will each\nneed neither itself, nor any other, to consider what is expedient for it\nwith reference to its own imperfection?\u2014For there is no imperfection nor\nerror in any art whatever; nor is it the business of art to seek what is\nexpedient for anything else, but that of which it is the art;\u2014but as for\nitself, it is infallible and pure, because it is right, so long as each,\nwhatever it is, be an accurate whole:\u2014and consider now, in that same\nstrict sense of the words, whether it be thus or otherwise. It seems so,\nsaid he. The art of medicine, then, said I, does not consider what is\nexpedient for the art of medicine, but for the body? Yes, said he. Nor\nthe art of managing horses, what is expedient for that art, but for\nhorses. Nor any other art for itself (for that is needless), but only\nfor that of which it is the art? So it appears, he said. However,\nThrasymachus, the arts rule and govern that of which they are arts? He\nassented to this, though with great difficulty. No science whatever,\nthen, either considers or dictates what is expedient for the superior,\nbut only what is so for the inferior,\u2014that, namely, which is governed by\nit? To this also he at length assented, though he attempted to contend\nabout it. But when he had assented, What else is this, said I, but\nsaying that no physician, so far as he is a physician, either considers\nor dictates what is expedient for the physician, but only what is\nexpedient for the sick?\u2014For the physician, strictly so called, has been\nacknowledged to be one who has charge of the body, and is not an amasser\nof wealth.\u2014Has it not been acknowledged? He assented. And likewise that\nthe pilot, so called, is the master of the sailors, and not a sailor? It\nhas been acknowledged. Such a pilot and master then, will not consider\nand dictate what is expedient for the pilot, but what is so to the\nsailor and the governed? He acquiesced, but unwillingly. Nor yet,\nThrasymachus, said I, does any other in any government whatever, so far\nas he is a governor, consider or dictate what is expedient for himself,\nbut only for the governed and those to whom he acts as steward; and,\nwith an eye to this, and to what is expedient and suitable for this, he\nboth says what he says, and does what he does.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 47:\n\n  A proverb, meaning\u2014_To undertake any thing above one\u2019s power_. There\n  is a similar one in Latin.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XVI.\u2014When we were at this part of the discussion, and it was\nevident to all, that the definition of justice stood now quite contrary\n[to that of Thrasymachus,] Thrasymachus, instead of replying, said: Tell\nme, Socrates, have you a nurse? What now, said I;\u2014ought you not rather\nto answer, than put such questions? Because, forsooth, said he, she\nneglects you when your nose is stuffed,[48] and does not wipe it when it\nneeds it, you, who as well as she, understand neither about sheep nor\nshepherd. What is the meaning of all this? said I. Because you think\nthat shepherds and herdsmen consider the good of the sheep or oxen, to\nfatten and tend them, having their eye on something else than their\nmaster\u2019s good and their own; moreover, that those who rule in cities,\nthose, who rule truly, are somehow differently disposed towards the\ngoverned, than [a shepherd] would be towards sheep, and that they attend\nday and night to somewhat else than the question, how they shall be\ngainers themselves; and so far are you from the notion of the just and\njustice, and the unjust and injustice, that you seem ignorant that both\njustice and the just are, in reality, a foreign good, expedient for the\nstronger and ruling party, but positively injurious to the subject and\nservant,\u2014while injustice, on the contrary, takes the rule of such as are\ntruly simple and just, and the governed do what is expedient for him,\nsince he possesses the most power, and promote his happiness, by serving\nhim, but themselves not at all.\u2014In this case, most simple Socrates, we\nshould consider, that a just man gets less on all occasions than an\nunjust.\u2014First, in mutual contracts with one another, where a certain\nparty joins with another, you will never find on the dissolution of the\npartnership, that the just man gets more than the unjust, but\nless:\u2014then, again, in civil affairs, when public imposts are to be paid.\nthe just man, from equal means, pays more, the other less; and when\nanything is to be gained, the one gains nothing, the other much; and\nwhen each of these holds any public office, if no other loss befals the\njust man, at any rate his domestic affairs become deteriorated through\nneglect, and from the public he derives no benefit, because he is\njust;\u2014besides which, he becomes hated by his domestics and acquaintance,\nsince he will never serve them, beyond what is just.\u2014But with the unjust\nman, all the contrary of this occurs; for I maintain, what I lately\nsaid, that such an one has a great power of becoming unfairly\nrich.\u2014Consider the case of this man, therefore, if you would discern how\nmuch more it conduces to his private interest to be unjust, rather than\njust. This you will most easily of all understand if you come to the\nmost finished injustice, such as renders the unjust man most happy, but\nthe injured and those who are unwilling to do injustice, most\nwretched.\u2014This, now, is tyranny, which takes away the goods of others,\nas well by secret fraud as open violence, both things sacred and holy,\nprivate and public, and these in no small portions, but all at once\u2014In\nall particular cases of such crimes, when a man undisguisedly commits\ninjustice, he is both punished and treated with the greatest ignominy:\nand as a proof of this, they are called sacrilegious, kidnappers,\nhousebreakers, pilferers, and thieves, according to the several kinds of\nthe wickedness committed. But when a man, in addition to the property of\nthe citizens, takes prisoners and enslaves the citizens themselves,\ninstead of these ugly names, he is called happy and blest, not only by\nthe citizens, but likewise by all the rest, whoever may get informed\nthat he has committed [such] enormous injustice;\u2014for those who revile\nwickedness, revile it\u2014not because they are afraid of doing, but because\nthey are afraid of suffering what is unjust.\u2014Thus, Socrates, is it, that\ninjustice, when it attains a certain point, is both more powerful, more\nfree, and more absolutely despotic than justice: and (as I said at the\nbeginning) the advantage of the stronger happens to be just, while that\nis unjust which profits and benefits one\u2019s self.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 48:\n\n  Gr. \u03ba\u03bf\u03c1\u03c5\u03b6\u1ff6\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1, _having a cold_ or rheum _in the nose_.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XVII.\u2014Saying this, Thrasymachus purposed going off, after pouring\non our ears, as a bath-keeper, this impetuous and lengthened\ndiscourse.[49] Those present, however, would not suffer him, but forced\nhim to stay and give account of what he had advanced; and I myself,\nalso, strongly urged him, and said: Oh! wonderful Thrasymachus; do you\npurpose, after throwing on us such strange talk, to go away without\nrightly instructing us, or informing yourself whether the case be as you\nsay, or otherwise? Do you think that you are trying to determine some\nsmall matter, and not the guide of life, by which each of us being\nconducted may pass his life most profitably? Can I think that the case\nis otherwise? said Thrasymachus. You seem, at any rate, said I, to care\nnothing at all about us, nor to be any way concerned whether we shall\nlive well or ill, through our ignorance of what you say you know:\u2014but,\nmy good friend, be so obliging as to show it to us also; nor will the\nfavour be ill-placed,[50] whatever you may bestow on so many of us as\nare here present. And I, for my part, can say that I am not persuaded,\nnor do I think, that injustice is more gainful than justice,\u2014not even\nshould we allow it play, and not prevent it doing what it likes. But, my\ngood friend, even supposing him to be unjust and able to do unjustly,\neither secretly or by open force, yet I at least am not persuaded that\ninjustice is more gainful than justice; and on this point probably some\nof us here are of the same mind, and not I alone. Persuade us,\ntherefore, sufficiently, my admirable friend, that we are wrong in\ndeeming justice of more value than injustice. But how, said he, am I to\npersuade you? for if you are not persuaded by what I have said already,\nwhat further can I do for you? Shall I take and implant my arguments in\nyour very soul? By Zeus, no, said I;\u2014but, first of all, whatever you\nhave said, abide by it: or, if you do change, change openly, and do not\ndeceive us. Now, you see, Thrasymachus\u2014(for we will reconsider what has\nbeen above said),\u2014that in first defining the true physician, you did not\nthink it needful afterwards, that the true shepherd should strictly keep\nhis flock, but fancy, that so far as he is a shepherd, he may feed his\nflock without regarding the best interests of the sheep, but rather as\nsome glutton going to feast on them at some entertainment, or to dispose\nof them as a merchant, and not [care for them] as a shepherd. The\nshepherd art, however, has certainly no other care but that for which it\nis appointed, namely, to afford it what is best, since its own affairs\nare already so sufficiently provided for, as to be in the very best\nstate without needing any of the shepherd art. So likewise, I, for my\npart, conceived that there you must necessarily agree with us in this,\nthat every government, in as far as it is government, considers what is\nbest for nothing else but for that which is governed and tended, whether\nin political or private government. But with respect to rulers in\ncities, think you that such as are really rulers govern willingly? No,\nby Zeus, said he, [I do not think so;] but I am quite certain.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 49:\n\n  Lucian must have had this passage in view, when writing Encom.\n  Demosth. \u00a7 16:\u2014\u1f26 \u03c0\u03bf\u03cd \u03b3\u03b5, \u1f14\u03c6\u03b7\u03bd, \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f64\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, \u1f65\u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\n  \u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03bb\u03ae\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03c0\u1f78\u03bd \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd.\n\nFootnote 50:\n\n  Analogous phrases are common among the Greek Classics. Comp. Gorg. p.\n  506 c., and Thucyd. i. c. 129:\u2014\u039a\u03b5\u03af\u03c3\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03af \u03c3\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b5\u1f50\u03b5\u03c1\u03b3\u03b5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1 \u1f10\u03bd \u03c0\u1ff7 \u1f21\u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u1ff3\n  \u03bf\u1f34\u03ba\u1ff3 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c3\u03b1\u03b5\u1f76 \u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XVIII.\u2014Why now, Thrasymachus, said I, do you not perceive, as\nregards all other governments, that no one undertakes them willingly,\nbut men ask for recompense, since the benefits likely to accrue from\ngoverning are not to come to themselves, but to the governed? Tell me\nthis, then;\u2014do we not always say that each several art is distinct in\nthis, in having a distinct function? And my admirable friend, do not\nanswer contrary to your opinion, that we may make some real progress. In\nthis respect, at any rate, said he, it is distinct. And does not each of\nthem afford us some certain peculiar advantage, and not a common\none;\u2014as, for instance, the medicinal, health; the pilot art, safety in\nsailing,\u2014and the rest in like manner? Certainly. And has not the\nmercenary art mercenary reward? for this is its function. Do you call\nboth the medicinal art and the pilot art one and the same? Or, if you\nmean to define them strictly, as you proposed, though one in piloting\nrecover his health, on account of the expedience of his going to sea,\nyou will not at all the more on this account call it the medicinal art?\nNot at all, said he. Nor [will you call] the mercenary art the\nmedicinal, I fancy, though in earning a reward one may recover his\nhealth? No, indeed. What then? Will you call the medicinal the mercenary\nart, if, in performing a cure, one earn a reward? No, said he. Have we\nnot acknowledged, then, that each art has its peculiar advantage?\nGranted, said he. Whatever, then, be that advantage, with which all\nartists in common are advantaged, it must plainly be by using some same\nthing in common to all, that they are advantaged by it. It seems so,\nsaid he. Still, we say that the advantage accruing to artists from\nreceiving a reward comes to them from the adoption of a mercenary art.\nHe acquiesced unwillingly. This, then, is not the advantage which each\nreceives from his own art, [namely,] the receiving a reward?\u2014But if we\nstrictly consider it, the art of medicine produces health, that of\nmoney-getting a reward, masonry a house, and the mercenary art\naccompanying it, a reward; and all the others in like manner,\u2014every one\nperforms its own work, and confers advantage on that for which it was\ndesigned; but if it meet not with a reward, is the artist benefited at\nall by his art? It appears not, said he. But confers he no service when\nhe works gratuitously? I think he does. This, then, is now evident,\nThrasymachus, that no art or government provides what is advantageous\nfor itself; but, as we said long ago, it both provides and prescribes\nfor the governed what is advantageous to him, having in view the\ninterest of the inferior and not that of the more powerful. For these\nreasons, then, friend Thrasymachus, I even just now said, that no one is\nwilling to govern and undertake the setting right of others\u2019 troubles\nwithout asking a reward; because, whoever intends to practise his art\nwell, never himself does nor enjoins [on others] what is best for\nhimself, if he enjoins according to his art, but rather what is best for\nthe governed; for which reason, therefore, as it seems, a recompense\nmust be given to those who are likely to be willing governors,\u2014either\nmoney, or honour,\u2014or punishment, on the other hand, if a man will not\ngovern.\n\nCHAP. XIX.\u2014How say you this, Socrates? said Glaucon:\u2014the two rewards,\nindeed, I understand; but the punishment, that you mention, and how you\ncan speak of it under the head of reward, I know not. As for the reward,\nthen, of the best of men, said I, do you not understand why the most\nworthy govern, when they are willing to govern:\u2014or, do you not know,\nthat to be ambitious and covetous, is both deemed a reproach, and is so?\nI do, said he. For these reasons, then, said I, good men are not willing\nto govern, either for money or for honour; inasmuch as they neither wish\nto be called mercenary, for openly making gain by governing,\u2014nor\nthieves, for taking clandestinely from what belongs to their office:\u2014nor\nagain [are they willing to govern] for honour, since they are not\nambitious. Hence if they are to be induced to govern willingly, there\nmust be laid on them both compulsion and punishment; and hence it seems\nlikely, that a willing undertaking of government, without waiting for\ncompulsion, has been reckoned dishonourable. The greatest part of the\npunishment, however, in case he is not willing to govern himself, is the\nbeing governed by one who is inferior. It is chiefly through fear of\nthis, methinks, that the good govern, when they do govern: and in that\ncase they enter on the government, not as on anything good, or as about\nto derive any advantage therefrom, but as on a necessary task, and\nfinding none better than, or even like, themselves, to intrust with the\ngovernment. It seems likely, indeed, that if there were a state of good\nmen, the contest would be, not to govern, as now it is to govern; and,\nhence, it would be manifest, that the really true governor does not\nnaturally aim at his own advantage, but at that of the governed; so that\nany one who has sense would rather choose to be benefited by another,\nthan have trouble in benefiting another. This, therefore, I, for my\npart, by no means grant to Thrasymachus; that justice is what is\nexpedient for the stronger:\u2014but this, indeed, we shall consider again\nhereafter.\u2014What Thrasymachus says now, however, seems to me of much more\nimportance,\u2014when he says, that the life of the unjust man is better than\nthat of the just. You, then, Glaucon, said I, which opinion do you\nchoose; and which of the two seems to you most consistent with truth?\nThe life of the just, said he, is in my opinion the more profitable.\nHave you heard, said I, how many good things Thrasymachus just now\nenumerated in the life of the unjust? I heard, said he; but I am not\npersuaded. Do you wish, then, that we should persuade him (if we can\nfind any means of doing so), that there is no truth in what he says? How\nshould I not wish it? said he. If then, by way of opposition, said I, we\nadvance, as argument against argument, how many good things are involved\nin being just,\u2014and again, he on the other side, and we again rejoin, it\nwill be requisite to compute and estimate what either of us says on\neither side; and we shall want also some judges to decide thereon. But\nif, as just now, we investigate these matters, by agreeing with each\nother, we shall ourselves be both judges and counsel? Certainly, said\nhe. Which of these plans, then, said I, do you choose? The latter, said\nhe.\n\nCHAP. XX.\u2014Come then, said I, Thrasymachus;\u2014answer us from the beginning.\nSay you, that complete injustice is more profitable than complete\njustice? Assuredly, I do say so, replied he;\u2014and why, too, I have\nalready told you. Come, now, how can you affirm anything like the\nfollowing concerning them?\u2014Do you call one of them virtue; and the other\nvice? How not? Is not justice, then, a virtue,\u2014and injustice a vice?\nLikely, indeed, that I should say so, facetious man; since I say that\ninjustice is profitable, but justice not so! What then? Quite the\ncontrary, said he. Do you call justice a vice? No; but a very generous\nfolly. Do you, then, call injustice a want of principle? No, said he,\nbut sagacity. Do the unjust, Thrasymachus, seem to you both wise and\ngood? Such, at least, said he, as are able to do injustice in\nperfection, and can subject states and nations to themselves; but you\nthink, perhaps, that I speak of cut-purses. Even such employment as\nthis, said he, is profitable, if concealed; but yet is of no value in\ncomparison with what I just mentioned. I am not ignorant, said I, of\nwhat you mean to say: but at this I am surprised,\u2014that you should reckon\ninjustice as a part of virtue and wisdom, and justice among their\ncontraries. But, I certainly do reckon it so. This, my good friend, said\nI, is somewhat too hard, and it is no longer easy to know what one can\nsay: for if you had alleged that injustice is profitable, and had still\nallowed it to be a vice, or base, as some others do,\u2014we should have had\nsomething to say, speaking according to received opinions. But now it is\nevident that you will say it is beautiful and strong, and will attribute\nto it all other properties which we ascribe to the just man, because,\nforsooth, you have ventured to class it with virtue and wisdom. You\naugur very truly, said he. I must not grudge, however, said I, to pursue\nour inquiry, so long as I conceive you speak what you really think; for\nyou appear to me, Thrasymachus, without doubt, not to be jesting, but\nonly to speak what you conceive to be the truth. What difference is it\nto you, said he, whether I think so, or not;\u2014and why do you not refute\nmy reasoning? No difference at all, said I:\u2014but try further to reply to\nthis likewise: does one just man appear to you to wish to have more than\nanother just man? By no means, said he; for otherwise he would not have\nbeen accommodating and silly, as we just conceived him. What; not even\nin a just action? No,\u2014not even in one that is just, said he. But, would\nhe deem it right to overreach the unjust man, and reckon it just; or\nwould he not think it just? He would both count it just, said he, and\ndeem it right; but yet he would not be able [to do it]. That, said I, I\ndo not ask,\u2014but, whether the just man would neither deem it right, nor\nfeel a wish to overreach a just man, but yet would do so to the unjust?\nSuch is the case, said he. What, then, would the unjust man [do?]\u2014Would\nhe deem it right to overreach the just man, even in a just action? How\nnot, said he, since he deems it right to overreach all men? With\nrespect, then, to the unjust man and unjust action, will not the unjust\nman desire to overreach both; and eagerly strive himself to receive most\nof all? Such is the fact.\n\nCHAP. XXI.\u2014This, then, is what we mean, said I:\u2014the just man does not\ntry to overreach one like himself, but one that is unlike, while the\nunjust man does so both to one like, and one unlike himself. You have\nexpressed yourself admirably, said he. Well, then, said I, the unjust\nman is both wise and good; but the just man is neither. Well, again,\nsaid he. In that case, said I, is not the unjust man like the wise and\nthe good, and the just man unlike. Of course, said he, a person of a\ncertain character is likely to resemble one of like character; and he\nwho is otherwise, not. Well said:\u2014such an one then, of course, is either\nof those whom he resembles? Why doubt it? said he. Granted,\nThrasymachus;\u2014now do you call one man musical, and another unmusical? I\ndo. Which of the two do you call wise, and which unwise? The musical,\nsurely, wise, and the unmusical unwise. As being wise, then, is he not\ngood; but as unwise, bad? Yes. And what as to the physician, is it not\nthe same? The same. Do you think, then, my excellent friend, that any\nmusician, when he is tuning a harp, wants to overreach, or deems it\nright to have more skill than a man who is a musician, in straining and\nslackening the strings? Not I. But what with respect to one unmusical?\nHe could not help it, said he. And what as to the physician? In\nprescribing meats or drinks, would he try to overreach either another\nphysician, or the art he professes? No, indeed. But one who is no\nphysician [would?] Yes. Just consider then, as respects all science and\nignorance, whether any skilful man, be he who he may, appears to you to\nhave a desire to grasp at, or do, or say more than another skilful\nman,\u2014and not rather to do the same things, in the same business as one\nequally skilful with himself? Aye, it seems, it must be so, said he. But\nwhat, as to him who is unskilled, will not he like to overreach both\nalike the skilful and the unskilled? Probably. But the skilful man [is]\nwise? I admit it.\u2014And the wise, good?\u2014I admit it. Both the good and the\nwise, then, will not want to overreach his like, but rather one unlike,\nand contrary to himself? It seems so, said he. But the bad and the\nignorant man [will want to overreach] both his like and his contrary? It\nappears so. In that case, Thrasymachus, said I;\u2014the unjust man desires\nto overreach both one unlike and one like himself:\u2014did not you say so? I\ndid, said he. The just man, however, on his side, will not overreach his\nlike, but one unlike? Yes. The just man then, said I, resembles the wise\nand the good, but the unjust, the evil and the ignorant? It seems so.\nBut we agreed, that each of them was such as what he resembled? We did\nagree so. The just man, then, has been clearly shown to be good and\nwise, but the unjust, ignorant and evil.\n\nCHAP. XXII.\u2014Thrasymachus at last agreed to all these things,\u2014not easily,\nas I now narrate them, but dragged to it, and with difficulty, and with\na wondrous deal of sweating, just as if it was summer. Then, indeed, did\nI behold\u2014I never did before\u2014Thrasymachus blushing. And after we had\nagreed that justice was virtue and wisdom, and injustice, vice and\nignorance,\u2014well, said I, let this be so settled;\u2014but we said also, that\ninjustice is powerful:\u2014do not you remember, Thrasymachus? I do remember,\nsaid he;\u2014but, to me at least, what you now say is not pleasing, and I\nhave somewhat to say about it; but should I mention it, I well know you\nwould say I am declaiming.[51] Either, then, let me say what I please,\nor, if you wish to question me, do so, and I will say to you, as to\ngossiping old women,[52] \u201cBe it so,\u201d and will assent and dissent. Not by\nany means, said I, if against your own opinion. Just to please you, said\nhe, since you will not let me speak: though what else do you wish?\nNothing, by Zeus, said I: but if you will do this, do it, and I will ask\nquestions. Ask, then. This, then, I ask, as just now (that we may\nregularly examine our argument), of what quality is justice, compared\nwith injustice? for I think it has been said that injustice was more\npowerful and stronger than justice.\u2014But now, at any rate, said I, if\njustice be both virtue and wisdom, it will easily, methinks, be seen to\nbe more powerful also than injustice, since injustice is ignorance; no\none can any longer be ignorant of this\u2014For my part, however,\nThrasymachus, I am not desirous of getting rid of the question at once,\nbut to consider it somehow thus.\u2014Would you say that a state may be\nunjust, and attempt to enslave other states unjustly, and have enslaved\nthem, and besides that actually hold many in slavery under herself? How\nnot? said he: and this for the most part the best state will do, and one\nthat is most completely unjust. I am aware, said I, that this was your\nassertion:\u2014but this is what I wish to inquire; whether the state, which\nbecomes more powerful than another state, is to hold this power without\njustice, or must necessarily do so with justice? If indeed, as you now\nalleged, said he, justice is wisdom\u2014with justice; but if, as I\nsaid,\u2014with injustice. I am quite delighted, Thrasymachus, said I, that\nyou not merely assent and dissent; but also that you answer quite\ncapitally. For I oblige you, he said. Therein doing well: oblige me,\nthen, in this too, and tell me,\u2014think you that a city, or camp, or\nrobbers, or thieves, or any other company of men, such as jointly\nundertake anything unjustly, can meet with any success, if they injure\none another? No, indeed, said he. But what, if they do no wrong?\u2014-will\nthey not [get on] better? Certainly. For, somehow or other,\nThrasymachus, injustice induces seditions, and hatreds and contentions\namong men,\u2014while justice [brings] harmony and friendship. Does it not?\nGranted, said he, that I may not differ from you.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 51:\n\n  A sly hit at the Sophists, of which dogmatic set Thrasymachus is\n  throughout a very apt representative.\n\nFootnote 52:\n\n  The term \u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f55\u03b8\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 or \u03bc\u1fe6\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 was quite proverbial among the Greeks.\n  Comp. Gorg. p. 527 a. \u03a4\u03ac\u03c7\u03b1 \u03b4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f56\u03bd \u03c4\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c4\u03b1 \u03bc\u1fe6\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c3\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f65\u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\n  \u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03cc\u03c2.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XXIII.\u2014You are very kind, my excellent friend, then tell me this\ntoo;\u2014if this be the work of injustice to engender hatred wherever it\nexists, will it not, when exercised both among freemen and slaves, make\nthem hate one another, and become seditious, and incapable of doing\nanything in concert for the common advantage? Certainly. But what if it\nhappen in the case of two only; will they not differ, and hate, and\nbecome enemies both to one another and to the just also? They will, said\nhe. If then, my admirable friend, injustice reside in a person,\u2014will it\nlose its power, or still retain it? It will still retain it, he replied.\nSeems it not, then, to have some such power as this;\u2014that, in whatever\nit exists, whether in a city, or race, or camp, or anywhere else, it\nfirst of all renders it unable to act of itself, owing to seditions and\ndifferences; besides which, it becomes an enemy not only to itself, but\nto every opponent, especially to the just\u2014is it not so? Certainly. And,\nmethinks, when injustice residing in one man will have all these\neffects, which it is natural for it to produce, it will, in the first\nplace, render him unable to act, while at variance and discord with\nhimself;\u2014and, secondly, as being an enemy both to himself and the\njust:\u2014is it not so? Yes. But, at any rate, friend, the gods are just?\nGranted, said he. As respects the gods, then, Thrasymachus, the unjust\nman will be a foe, but the just man a friend? Feast yourself boldly on\nthis reasoning, said he; for I will not oppose you, that I may not\nrender myself odious to those who think so.[53] Come then, said I, and\nsatiate me with the rest of the feast, by answering as you were doing\njust now: for as respects the just appearing wiser and better and more\nable to act, but the unjust being capable of doing nothing in concert;\nand besides that, as to what we said with reference to the unjust, that\nthey are ever at any time able strenuously to act in mutual\nconcert,\u2014this we advanced not quite correctly, for being thoroughly\nunjust, they would not spare one another: but yet it was evident that\nthere was a justice in them, which made them refrain at any rate from\ninjuring one another and those of their party,\u2014owing to which they\nperformed what they did; and they rushed into unjust actions, through\ninjustice, in a kind of half-wicked feeling; for the completely wicked\nare both perfectly unjust, and also quite incapable of action:\u2014that this\nis really so, I understand, but not in the way that you first defined\nit. Besides, whether the just live better than the unjust, and are more\nhappy (which we proposed to consider afterwards), is now to be\nconsidered:\u2014and, methinks, they appear to do so even at present, from\nwhat we have said:\u2014but let us consider the matter still better; for the\ndiscussion is not about a casual matter, but about the manner in which\nwe ought to live.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 53:\n\n  A clever way of extricating himself from the dilemma in which his\n  general scepticism has involved him!\n\n-----\n\nConsider, then, said he. I am considering, said I;\u2014and tell me, does\nthere seem to you to be any work peculiar to a horse? Yes. Would you not\ncall that the [peculiar] work both of a horse, and indeed of any being\nwhatever, which he can do, or best do, with him alone? I do not\nunderstand, said he. But thus;\u2014see you with anything else than the eyes?\nSurely not. What then? Could you hear with anything else than the ears?\nBy no means. Should we not, then, justly call these the works peculiar\nto them? Certainly. And what\u2014could you not with a sword, a knife, and\nmany other things, lop off a vine-branch? How not? But with nothing, at\nany rate, methinks, so well as with a pruning-knife made for that\npurpose. True. Shall we not then define this to be its [peculiar] work?\nWe will so define it then.\n\nCHAP. XXIV.\u2014Now, methinks, you may understand better what I was asking,\nwhen I inquired whether the work of each be not that which, of all\nothers, one performs either alone or in the best manner. I understand\nyou, said he; and this seems to me to be each one\u2019s peculiar work.\nGranted, said I:\u2014and does there not likewise appear to you to be a\nvirtue belonging to everything, to which a certain work is assigned? But\nlet us run over the same ground once more:\u2014We say that the eyes have a\ncertain work? Yes. Is there not then a virtue belonging to the eyes? A\nvirtue also. Well, then, have the ears a certain work? Yes. And of\ncourse a virtue also? A virtue also. And, about all the rest;\u2014is it not\nthus? It is. But, hold:\u2014could the eyes ever cleverly perform their work,\nwhen not possessed of their own proper virtue, but vice instead of\nvirtue? How could they? said he; for perhaps you mean blindness instead\nof sight. Whatever, said I, be their virtue, that I mean,\u2014for I do not\nyet enter on this question; but, whether by their own proper virtue they\nwill perform their own proper work well, whatever they undertake; and by\nvice, badly? In this, at least, said he, you speak the truth. And will\nnot the ears also, when deprived of their virtue, perform their work\nill? Certainly. And, are we to settle all other things by the same\nreasoning? So I suppose. Come then, after this, consider what follows:\nhas the soul a certain work, which you can perform by no other living\nthing,\u2014such as this, to take care, to govern, to consult, and all such\n[acts?] Is there any other than the soul, to which we can justly ascribe\nthem, and say they are its proper functions? No other. But what of\nthis?\u2014To live; shall we say it is the work of the soul? Most assuredly,\nsaid he. Do not we say, then, that there is some virtue, also, peculiar\nto the soul? We do. And can the soul, then, Thrasymachus, ever perform\nits own works cleverly, whilst deprived of its proper virtue;\u2014or, is\nthis impossible? Impossible. Of necessity, then, a bad soul must govern\nand take care of things badly, and a good soul perform all these things\nwell? Necessarily so. Did we not then agree, that justice was the virtue\nof the soul, and injustice its vice? We did so agree. The just soul,\nthen, and the just man, will live well, and the unjust ill? It appears\nso, said he, according to your reasoning. Surely, then, he who lives\nwell is both blessed and happy; and he who does not, the opposite? How\nnot? The just, then, is happy, and the unjust miserable? Granted, said\nhe. But at any rate, it is not advantageous to be miserable, but happy?\nHow not? In that case, excellent Thrasymachus, injustice is never more\nprofitable than justice. Well, now, Socrates, said he, you have been\ncapitally well feasted at these Bendideia. Aye, by you, Thrasymachus, I\ncertainly have; for you are grown quite mild, and have ceased to be\ntroublesome:\u2014and if I have not feasted handsomely, it is owing to\nmyself, not you.\u2014But just as greedy guests, ever gloating on what is\nfresh brought before them, taste thereof, without having properly\nenjoyed what went before,\u2014so I, methinks, without having first\nascertained what we were before investigating,\u2014namely the nature of\njustice, have omitted this, and rushed eagerly forward to inquire\nconcerning it, whether it be vice and ignorance, or wisdom and\nvirtue;\u2014and when an assertion was afterwards introduced, that injustice\nis more profitable than justice, I could not refrain from coming to\nthis, from the other; so that now, from this conversation, I have learnt\nnothing at all;\u2014for since I do not know what justice is, I can scarcely\nknow whether it be a virtue or not,\u2014and whether he who possesses it be\nunhappy or happy.\n\n\n                       THE END OF THE FIRST BOOK.\n\n\n                                BOOK II.\n\n                               ARGUMENT.\n\nIn the _second book_ he illustrates justice by a pretty long discourse\n    about injustice, its contrary, and the social evils thence arising.\n    From such a comprehensive view of society itself he is not\n    unnaturally led into his main argument, the subject of civil\n    government; carefully distinguishing between the head and the\n    members\u2014the governors and the governed; but also bearing in mind\n    that society is the stage on which alone the virtues of the just man\n    can be seen in perfection. The governors, says he, should be\n    spirited and shrewd, so as to be able both to repel the violence of\n    the state\u2019s enemies, and severely to punish wicked citizens, as well\n    as peaceably to maintain their own subjects or dependants under the\n    law\u2019s protection, and to appoint proper rewards for virtuous and\n    deserving actions. The principal study then should, as respects a\n    state, be devoted jointly to _music_ and _gymnastics_\u2014the former\n    referring to mental, the other to bodily training; but above all\n    these he places _religion_, which though he does not statedly define\n    it, yet he proves to be wholly distinct from the superstition of his\n    own time.\n\nCHAP. I.\u2014Having said these things, I thought to have been relieved from\nthe debate; but this it seems was only the introduction; for Glaucon is\non all occasions most courageous, and then especially did not approve of\nThrasymachus\u2019s withdrawal from the debate, but said;\u2014Socrates, have you\nany desire of seeming to have persuaded us, or to succeed in really\npersuading us that it is in every respect better to be just than unjust?\nI, for my part, said I, would prefer to do so in reality, if it depended\non me. You are not doing then, said he, what you desire: for, tell me,\ndoes there appear to you any good of this kind, such as we would accept\nas a possession, without regard to its results, but embracing it\n[simply] for its own sake; such as joy and all kinds of harmless\npleasures,[54] though for the future no other advantage springs from\nthem than the delight arising from their possession. To me, indeed, said\nI, there does seem to be something of this kind. But what;\u2014is there not\nsome species of good which we both love for its own sake, and also for\nwhat springs from it,\u2014as wisdom, sight, and health?\u2014for such goods we\nsurely embrace on both accounts. Yes, said I. But do you see, said he, a\nthird species of good,\u2014among which are bodily exercise, being healed\nwhen sick, the practice of medicine, or any other lucrative\nemployment?\u2014for these things, we should say, are laborious, yet\nbeneficial to us, and we should not choose them for their own sake, but\non account of the rewards and other advantages that spring from them.\nThere is, indeed, said I, this third species also: but what then? In\nwhich of these species, said he, do you place justice? I think, indeed,\nsaid I, in the most beautiful,\u2014as being a good, which, both on its own\naccount and for what springs from it, is desired by a man bent on being\nhappy. It does not seem so, however, said he, to the multitude, but\nrather to be of that laborious kind which is pursued on account of\nrewards and honours [gained] through high repute, but on its own account\nto be shunned, as fraught with trouble.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 54:\n\n  \u1f00\u03b2\u03bb\u03b1\u03b2\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 means not only _harmless_ pleasures, but those which are pure\n  and unalloyed with pain. We may remark here, that he divides goods (\u03c4\u1f70\n  \u1f00\u03b3\u03b1\u03b8\u03ac) into three classes,\u2014one, to be pursued for its own sake only,\n  without reference to advantage.\u2014another, which is to be loved both for\n  its own sake, and for the advantages thence accruing,\u2014and a third,\n  which of itself perhaps is not worthy to be pursued, but only on\n  account of the advantages thence accruing. In the second or mixed\n  class Socrates places justice.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. II.\u2014I am aware, said I, that it seems so; and it was in this view,\nthat it was some time since condemned by Thrasymachus, but injustice\npraised:\u2014it seems, however, that I am one of those who are dull in\nlearning. Come now, said he, listen to me too, if you please; for\nThrasymachus seems to me to have been charmed by you just like a\nsnake,[55] more quickly than he ought; while, with respect to myself,\nthe proof has not yet been made to my satisfaction in either case, for I\ndesire to hear what each is, and what intrinsic power it has by itself,\nwhen residing in the soul,\u2014letting alone the rewards and what springs\nfrom them. I will proceed, in this manner, therefore, if it be your\npleasure. I will take up Thrasymachus\u2019s argument in another shape; and,\nfirst of all, I will tell you what they say justice is, and whence it\narises,\u2014and, secondly, that all who cultivate it, cultivate it\nunwillingly, as necessary, but not as good,\u2014and thirdly, that they do\nthis with reason, inasmuch as, according to their notion, the life of an\nunjust man is much better than that of one that is just. Though, for my\nown part, Socrates, it by no means appears so to me, still I am thrown\ninto a state of doubt, from having my ears stunned by hearing\nThrasymachus and innumerable others.\u2014But as for the statement respecting\njustice, that it is better than injustice, I have never yet heard it\nexplained as I wish. I wish, therefore, to hear it eulogized on its own\naccount, and am quite of opinion that I shall hear it from you:\nwherefore, by way of opposition,[56] I shall speak in praise of an\nunjust life, and in so speaking will show you in what manner I want to\nhear you in turn condemn injustice and commend justice. But see if my\nproposal be agreeable to you. Quite so, said I; for about what would any\nman of intellect delight more frequently to speak and hear? You speak\nexcellently well, said he:\u2014and now, as to what I said I would first\nspeak about, listen, both what justice is and whence it springs.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 55:\n\n  Thrasymachus is here, on account of his passionate violence and\n  uncouth manners, aptly compared to a snake, which, as the ancients\n  believed, could be softened and subdued by music:\u2014and we note\n  particularly the elegant use of the verb \u03ba\u03b7\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, which primarily\n  signifies to _charm_, _sooth_, _subdue_, and then generally, _to\n  soften by persuasion_ or argument.\n\nFootnote 56:\n\n  Respecting this use of the verb \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd, comp. ch. ix. p. 367 b.\n  p. 47 of this translation:\u2014\u1f61\u03c2 \u03b4\u03cd\u03bd\u03b1\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bc\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03c9. See\n  also, Xen. Anab. ii. 5, s. 30, and Eurip. Hec. v. 132.\n\n-----\n\nThey say, forsooth, that to do injustice is naturally good, and to\nsuffer injustice bad,\u2014but that suffering injustice is attended with\ngreater evil than doing injustice with good; so that, when men do each\nother injustice, and likewise suffer it, and have a taste of both, it\nseems advantageous for those, who are not able to avoid the one and\nchoose the other, to agree among themselves neither to act unjustly nor\nyet to be treated so; and also, that hence they began to form for\nthemselves laws and compacts, and to call what is enjoined by law lawful\nand just.\u2014This, then, is the origin and essence of justice,\u2014a medium\nbetween what is best, namely, when a man acts unjustly with impunity,\nand what is worst, that is, when one injured is unable to obtain\nredress;\u2014and this justice being half-way between both these, is desired,\nnot as good, but as being held in honour, owing to an incapacity for\ndoing injustice; because the man who had ability to do so would never,\nif really a man, agree with any one neither to injure nor be injured;\nfor he would be mad to do so. This, then, Socrates, and such like, is\nthe nature of justice; and such, as they say, is the source whence it\narises.\n\nCHAP. III.\u2014Again,\u2014that those who cultivate it through an incapability of\ndoing injustice, cultivate it unwillingly, we shall best be made aware,\nif we should mentally conceive such a case as follows:\u2014Let us give full\nliberty to each of them, both the just and the unjust, to do whatever\nthey please,\u2014and then follow them, observing whither inclination will\nlead each.\u2014We should then detect[57] the just man going the same way\nwith the unjust, through a desire of having more than others,\u2014which\nevery nature naturally pursues as good, but by law and compulsion is led\nto respect equality.[58] And the liberty of which I speak may be chiefly\nof such a kind, as if they possessed such a power, as they say once\nbelonged to Gyges (the progenitor of the Lydian king[59]); and of him,\nforsooth, they say, that he was a hired shepherd with the then governor\nof Lydia, but when a portion of ground was torn up by a prodigious rain\nand earthquake, and an opening made in the place where he was grazing\n[his flocks,]\u2014that, in astonishment at the sight, he descended and saw\nother wonders besides, which men hand down in fables, especially a\nbrazen horse, hollow, provided with doors, leaning against which, he\nbeheld inside a dead body, apparently larger than that of a man, and\nthat it had nothing else except that it wore a gold ring on its hand,\nwhich he took off and came out. And when there was a meeting of the\nshepherds, as usual, for making their monthly report to the king about\ntheir flocks, he also came with the ring; and while sitting with the\nrest, he happened to turn the stone of the ring towards himself into the\ninner part of his hand; and when this was done, he became invisible to\nthose who sat beside him, and they talked of him as absent: and\nastonished at this, he again handled his ring, turned the stone outward,\nand on turning it became visible. On observing this, then, he made trial\nof the ring, whether it had this power; and it always happened so, that,\nwhen he turned the stone inward, he became invisible,\u2014when outward,\nvisible. Perceiving this, he instantly contrived to be made one of the\nembassy to the king; and on his arrival he debauched his wife, and, with\nher, assaulted and killed the king,[60] and took possession of the\nkingdom. If now, there were two such rings, and the just man had one,\nand the unjust the other, no one, we should think, would be so\ncase-hardened as to persevere in justice, and dare to refrain from\nothers\u2019 property and not touch it, when it was in his power both to take\nfearlessly, even from the market-place, whatever he pleased, and to\nenter houses, and embrace any one he pleased,\u2014both to kill and loose\nfrom chains whomever he pleased,\u2014and to do anything else likewise, as a\ngod among men:\u2014acting in this manner, he would in no respect differ from\nthe other, but both would go the same road. This, in truth, one may say,\nis a strong proof, that no one is willingly just, but only by\nconstraint, as if it were not an intrinsic good, because every one,\nwhere he thinks he can, does injustice. Every man, then, thinks that\ninjustice is intrinsically much more profitable than justice, thinking\ntruly, as he says, who argues on such a subject as this: inasmuch as, if\nany one possessed of such a liberty were never to act unjustly, nor\ntouch others\u2019 property, he would be deemed by men of sense to be most\nwretched, and most void of understanding; yet would they praise him in\neach others\u2019 presence, mutually deceiving one another through fear of\nbeing injured. Thus much, then, concerning these things.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 57:\n\n  \u1f10\u03c0\u2019 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u03c6\u03ce\u03c1\u1ff3 \u03bb\u03b1\u03b2\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, lit. _to catch in the fact_.\n\nFootnote 58:\n\n  Euripides in his Ph\u0153n. v. 545, &c., elegantly expresses a similar\n  notion:\u2014\n\n                            \u2014\u2014\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd\u03bf \u03ba\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, \u03c4\u03ad\u03ba\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd,\n                \u1f30\u03c3\u03cc\u03c4\u03b7\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u1fb7\u03bd, \u1f23 \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b5\u1f76 \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2\n                \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9, \u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03bc\u03ac\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03bc\u03ac\u03c7\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2\n                \u03be\u03c5\u03bd\u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6\u00b7 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f34\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd \u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03ce\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c6\u03c5.\n                \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c0\u03bb\u03ad\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f00\u03b5\u1f76 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03ad\u03bc\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\n                \u03c4\u03bf\u1f54\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n            To honour justice, and to love the right,\n            Which friends to friends and state to state unite,\n            Be ours. We honour equal aims and ends;\n            But still the greater with the less contends,\n            And evil times begin.\n\nFootnote 59:\n\n  The words between brackets are considered spurious by Stallbaum, but\n  admitted as genuine by Bekker and Schneider. The pretty generally\n  received opinion now is, that \u1f41 \u039b\u03c5\u03b4\u03cc\u03c2 alludes to Cr\u0153sus, who was\n  highly celebrated throughout Greece, and hence was emphatically termed\n  \u201cThe Lydian.\u201d Comp., however, Herod. i. 8 (pp. 4, 5. Cary\u2019s Transl.),\n  who tells a somewhat different story.\n\nFootnote 60:\n\n  Gyges slew Candaules in the second year of the sixteenth Olympiad,\n  B.C. 614. See Cic. de Offic. iii. 9, where the story is given in\n  nearly the same form.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. IV.\u2014With respect, again, to the decision on the life of those of\nwhom we are speaking,\u2014if we distinguish the supremely just and the\nsupremely unjust, we shall be able to come to a right judgment,\u2014but not\notherwise; and what, then, is this distinction? It is this;\u2014let us, from\nthe unjust man, take nothing of injustice, nor from the just man, of\njustice; but let us make each of them perfect in his own pursuit. First,\nthen, let the unjust man act as clever artists [do]. For instance, a\nskilful pilot or physician comprehends both the possible and impossible\nin his art, the former of which he attempts, but relinquishes the\nlatter;\u2014and again, if he meet with any failure, he is able to rectify\nit:\u2014so, in like manner, let the unjust man when he attempts clever acts\nof injustice, remain concealed, if he intends to be exceedingly unjust;\nbut, as for him that is caught, he must be deemed worthless: for the\nmost complete injustice is\u2014to seem just, when not so.[61] To the\ncompletely unjust, then, we must ascribe the most complete injustice,\nand not take it from him, but allow him, while doing the greatest\ninjustice, to win the highest reputation for justice; and, if he should\nfail at all, he should be able to rectify it, and be capable of speaking\npersuasively, if any report of his unjust deeds get abroad, and be able\nalso to effect by force what requires force, owing to his courage and\nstrength, and through the instrumentality of his friends and his wealth;\nsupposing him, then, to be such as this, let us for argument place in\ncontrast with him a just, simple-minded, and generous-hearted man, who,\naccording to \u00c6schylus, desires less the seeming than the reality of\ngoodness:[62] let us take from him, then, the mere seeming of goodness;\nfor, should he seem just, honours and rewards will be his lot, because\nhe merely seems so:\u2014and thus [it may be] uncertain whether he be such\nfor the sake of justice, or rewards and honours. Let him be stripped,\nthen, of everything but justice, and be placed in direct contrast to the\nother;\u2014without doing injustice too, let him have the reputation of doing\nthe greatest,\u2014in order that he may be put to the test for justice, and\nnot be moved to reproach and its consequences, but rather be\nunchangeable till death, seeming, indeed, to be unjust through life,\nthough really just; and that thus both arriving at the extreme,\u2014one of\njustice, the other of injustice, we may judge which of the two is the\nhappier.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 61:\n\n  Comp. here Cicero de Off. i. c. 13. Totius autem injustiti\u00e6 nulla\n  capitalior est, qu\u00e0m eorum, qui, quum maxim\u00e8 fallunt, id agunt, ut\n  viri boni esse videantur.\n\nFootnote 62:\n\n  The entire passage here alluded to is from the Septem cont. Thebas, v.\n  577:\u2014\n\n                 \u039f\u1f50 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b8\u03ad\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd,\n                 \u0392\u03b1\u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03bf\u03ba\u03b1 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c6\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd\u1f78\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03c0\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2,\n                 \u1f18\u03be \u1f27\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03ba\u03b5\u03b4\u03bd\u1f70 \u03b2\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03b5\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. V.\u2014Bah, bah, said I, dear Glaucon, how exceedingly anxious you are\nto cleanse each of these men for trial, just as [you would] a statue! As\nmuch, said he, as I can: but, as they are such, there will be no\ndifficulty, I suppose, in ascertaining what life will be the lot of\neither. It shall be told, then:\u2014and, even if it should be told with more\nthan usual bluntness, think not, that it is I who tell it, Socrates, but\nthose who praise injustice before justice.\u2014This then will they say, that\nthe just man, thus situated, will be scourged, tortured, fettered, have\nhis eyes burnt out, and lastly, suffer all manner of evils, and be\ncrucified;[63] and he will know too, that a man should desire not to be,\nbut to appear just. As for that saying of \u00c6schylus, too, it applied far\nbetter against the unjust man: for in reality men will say, that the\nunjust man, as being in pursuit of an object connected with truth, and\nnot living according to opinion, has no desire to appear, but to be\nunjust,\u2014\n\n            Reaping the hollow furrow of his mind,\n            Whence all his cherished councils blossom forth.\n\nIn the first place, he holds the magistracy in the state, because he is\nthought just,\u2014next, he marries out of whatever family he pleases, and\ngives his children in marriage to whom he pleases, forms agreements and\njoins in partnership with whom he likes,\u2014and, besides all this, succeeds\nin all his projects for gain, because he scruples not to commit\ninjustice. When he engages, therefore, in competitions, he both in\nprivate and public surpasses and overreaches his adversaries; and by\nthis overreaching gets rich, serves his friends, hurts his foes; and to\nthe gods, as respects sacrifices and offerings, he not only sufficiently\nbut even magnificently both sacrifices and makes offerings, serving far\nbetter than the just man, not only the gods, but of men also whomsoever\nhe pleases; so that it is very likely that he should be a greater\nfavourite of the gods than the just man. Thus, they say, Socrates, that\nwith gods and men a better life awaits the unjust than the just.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 63:\n\n  A similar passage occurs in Cicero de Republ. iii. 17:\u2014Proque hac\n  opinione bonus ille vir vexetur, rapiatur, manus ei denique\n  offerantur, effodiantur oculi, damnetur, vinciatur, uratur,\n  exterminetur, exeat, postremo jure etiam optimo omnibus miserrimus\n  esse videatur.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. VI.\u2014Glaucon having said this, I was thinking of saying something\nin reply; but his brother Adimantus said\u2014Do you not think, Socrates,\nthat enough has been already said on the matter? What then? said I. The\nvery point has not been mooted, said he, which ought most especially to\nhave been discussed. Why then, said I, as the saying is, let a brother\nhelp a brother,\u2014so that, if he fails at all, do you help him out:\u2014yet,\nas far as I am concerned, what he has alleged is quite sufficient to\ndefeat me, and disable me from defending justice.\n\nAnd he in reply said: Oh, it is a mere nothing you allege;\u2014but still\nhear this in addition;\u2014for we must go through all the arguments in\nopposition to what he has said, [those, namely,] which praise justice\nand condemn injustice,\u2014in order that it may be more clearly seen, what,\nI think, Glaucon means: and perhaps parents tell and exhort their sons,\nas all those do who care for them, that they ought to be just,\u2014not\ncommending justice for itself, but for the reputation arising\ntherefrom;\u2014and hence to a man reputed to be just, there may accrue from\nthat very repute both state-offices and marriage-connections, and\nwhatever Glaucon just now enumerated as the consequences of being\nreputed just: these, however, carry this notion of repute too far;\u2014for,\nthrowing in the approbation of the gods, they can speak of abundant\nblessings, which, they say, the gods bestow on the holy. Just as noble\nHesiod and Homer say;\u2014the former, that the gods make oaks produce for\njust men\n\n          Acorns at top, and in the middle bees;\n          Their woolly sheep are laden thick with fleece;[64]\n\nand a great many other good things of the same nature:\u2014similarly, also,\nthe latter:\u2014\n\n           [Unrivalled, like the praise] of some great king,\n           Who o\u2019er a numerous people and renown\u2019d\n           Presiding like a deity, maintains\n           Justice and truth. The earth under his sway\n           Her produce yields abundantly; the trees\n           Fruit-laden bend; the lusty flocks bring forth;\n           The ocean teems with finny swarms beneath\n           His joint control, and all the land is blest.[65]\n\nMus\u00e6us, too, and his son [Eumolpus] tell us, that the gods give just men\nfar more splendid blessings than these;[66] for carrying them in his\npoem into Hades, and placing them at table in company with holy men, at\na feast prepared for them, they crown them, and make them pass the whole\nof their time drunken,\u2014deeming eternal inebriation to be the best reward\nof virtue.\u2014Some, however, extend down still further than these the\nrewards from the gods; for they say, that children\u2019s children, and a\nfuture generation of the holy and faithful, are left on earth. These,\nthen, and such as these, are their eulogies of justice. As for the\nunholy and unjust, however, they bury them in Hades, in mud, and compel\nthem to carry water in a sieve;\u2014and as for those that are yet living, if\nthey lead them into wrong notions, as Glaucon did in enumerating the\npunishments of just persons, but reputed unjust,\u2014this they can allege\nabout the unjust, but nothing else. The praise then or blame belongs to\neither party [as they please].\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 64:\n\n  Hesiod. Op. et Di. v. 231. Comp. Virg. Eclog. iv. 30, and Hor. Epod.\n  xvi. 47.\n\nFootnote 65:\n\n  Hom. Odyss. xix. 109-113.\n\nFootnote 66:\n\n  Eumolpus, the son of Mus\u00e6us, was a Thracian, who emigrated into\n  Attica, and founded the Eleusinian mysteries,\u2014from whom also the\n  Athenians in charge of the rites were called Eumolpid\u00e6. See Smith\u2019s\n  Dict. of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology,\u2014articles _Mus\u00e6us_\n  and _Eumolpus_;\u2014also Kreuzer\u2019s Symbolik. vol. iv. p. 342, &c.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. VII.\u2014In addition to this, however, consider, Socrates, another\nspecies of argument about justice and injustice, referred to both\nprivately and by poets; for all with one mouth celebrate temperance and\njustice[67] as beautiful, but still difficult and laborious, but\nintemperance and injustice as sweet and easy of attainment, though by\nrepute only and law disgraceful: and they mostly say, that unjust are\nmore profitable than just actions; and wicked rich men, and such as have\npower of any kind, either public or private, they are quite willing to\npronounce happy and to honour both publicly and privately, but to\ndespise and overlook those who may be at all weak and poor, even though\nthey acknowledge them to be better than the others.\u2014But of all these\narguments, the most marvellous are those concerning the gods and\nvirtue,\u2014as if it were a matter of course, that the gods allot\nmisfortunes and an evil life to many good men, and to the opposite, an\nopposite fate. Pedlar-priests[68] also, and prophets, frequenting the\ngates of the rich, persuade them, that they possess a power granted them\nby the gods, of expiating by sacrifices and incantations in the midst of\npleasures and feastings, whatever injustice has been committed by any\none, or his forefathers: and if he wishes to blast a foe, he can at\nsmall expense injure the just, as well as the unjust, by certain\nblandishments and magic ties, persuading the gods, as they say, to\nsuccour them: and to all these discourses they bring the poets as\nwitnesses; who, mentioning man\u2019s predisposition to vice, say,\u2014\n\n           How vice at once and easily we choose;\n           The way so smooth, its dwelling too so nigh;\n           Toil before virtue, thus forewill\u2019d the gods\u2014[69]\n\nand a certain road, both long and steep;\u2014while others make Homer witness\nas to the persuasive power of men over the gods, inasmuch as that poet\nsays,\u2014\n\n                                          ... the gods\n             In virtue thy superiors, are themselves\n             Yet placable; and if a mortal man\n             Offend by transgression of their laws.\n             Libation, incense, sacrifice, and prayers\n             In meekness offer\u2019d turn their wrath away.[70]\n\nThey bring forward, too, a crowd of books of Mus\u00e6us and Orpheus, the\noffspring of the Moon and the Muses, as they say, in accordance with\nwhich they perform their sacred rites, persuading not only private\nindividuals, but states likewise, that both absolutions and purgations\nfrom iniquities are effected by sacrifices, and sportive pleasures,\u2014and\nthis, too, for the benefit of the living as well as the dead;\u2014which\npurgations they call _mysteries_,[71] which absolve us from the evils of\nanother life,\u2014whereas a dreadful fate awaits those who perform no\nsacrifice.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 67:\n\n  Comp. Hesiod. Op. et D. v. 287, &c., and Epicharmus, cited by\n  Xenophon, Mem. II. 1. \u00a7 20.\n\nFootnote 68:\n\n  The \u1f00\u03b3\u03cd\u03c1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 were a species of itinerant sacrificers, who went about\n  collecting money for the expense of sacrifices to certain gods or\n  goddesses, and contrived to eke out a subsistence by imposing on the\n  vulgar, whom they supplied also with nostrums, and cheated with lying\n  prophecies.\n\nFootnote 69:\n\n  Hes. Op. et D. v. 285-288;\u2014and they are cited also in the Laws, iv. p.\n  718, e.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. VIII.\u2014As respects all such and so much as has been said, dear\nSocrates, about virtue and vice, and what reward both men and gods\nattach thereto,\u2014what do we suppose the souls of our youth do when they\nhear them, such at least as are of good natural parts, and able to rush,\nas it were, to all that is said, and thence infer in what sort of\ncharacter, and by what procedure one may best pass through life? He\nmight probably say to himself, according to Pindar,\u2014\n\n            Shall I yon rampart, loftier far\n              Than justice, dare ascend,\u2014or crooked fraud\n            Invite, to cheat the world, and thus\n              Myself live cased in guilt\u2019s base panoply.[72]\n\nFor what is said happens to me, if I am just, though I am not reputed\nso, they say it is no profit, but clearly, mere trouble and\npunishment,\u2014whereas the unjust man, who has procured for himself the\nreputation of justice, is said to have a divine life. Since then, as the\nsages tell me,[73] appearance both does violence to reality, and is the\narbiter of happiness, I ought surely to turn wholly thereto, drawing\nround myself, as a covering and picture, an image of virtue, but still\ndragging after me the cunning and versatile fox of that very clever\nArchilochus.[74] Perhaps, however, some one will say,\u2014it is not easy for\na bad man always to practise his wickedness in secret.\u2014Neither is\nanything else easy (will we say) of important matters: but still, would\nwe be happy, thither we must go where the tracks of reasoning lead us:\nfor, with a view to concealment, we shall form conspiracies and\nassociations; and there are masters of persuasion, who teach a popular\nand forensic wisdom,\u2014by which, partly though persuasion and partly by\nforce, we may escape punishment after all our over-reaching. However, it\nis not possible either to escape the notice of the gods, or to overpower\nthem.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 70:\n\n  Il. ix. 493.\n\nFootnote 71:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c4\u03ac\u03c2.\n\nFootnote 72:\n\n  See _Boeckh_, _Pindari Fragm._ ccxxxii. p. 671.\n\nFootnote 73:\n\n  _Simonidis Fragm._ cxxiii. ed. Gaisford, i. p. 394.\n\n-----\n\nWherefore, if they have no existence, and have no care about human\naffairs, neither need we care about concealment; and as respects their\nexistence and care for us, we neither know nor have heard of them\notherwise than from traditions, and from the poets who write their\ngenealogies;[75] and these very persons tell us, that they are to be\nmoved and persuaded by sacrifices and propitiatory vows, and\nofferings,\u2014both of which we are to believe, or neither. If, however, we\nare to believe both, we may do injustice, and offer sacrifice from the\nfruits of unjust deeds. For if we be just, we shall escape punishment\nfrom the gods, and then deprive ourselves of the gains of injustice: but\nif, on the other hand, we be unjust, we shall make gain, and after\ntransgressing and offending, shall appease them by prayers, and so\nescape punishment. Nevertheless, we shall suffer in Hades the punishment\nof our misdeeds here, either ourselves, or our children\u2019s children. But\nthe reasoner may say, Friend, the mysteries again can do much, and the\ngods who expiate,\u2014as say the mightiest states, and those children of the\ngods,\u2014the poets and prophets, who declare that these things are so.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 74:\n\n  That is, apparently, _virtue_; but, in reality, mere _cunning_.\n  Archilochus has written more than one piece, in which the fox plays\n  the part of a cunning and deceitful personage. See _Archil. Fragm._\n  ed. Gaisf. i. pp. 307, 308.\n\nFootnote 75:\n\n  That the gods exercise no care over human affairs was a favourite\n  doctrine of the sophists, and especially of Protagoras. Comp. The\u00e6t.\n  p. 162, d. with Cicero de Nat. Deor. i. ch. 23. See also De Legg. p.\n  885, d. e.\u2014\u1f21\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bd \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03bf\u1f31 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03bc\u1ff6\u03c2 \u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03af\u03b6\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd, \u03bf\u1f31\n  \u03b4\u1f72 \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u1f21\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd, \u03bf\u1f31 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03b5\u1f50\u03c7\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03b3\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 ... \u03bd\u1fe6\u03bd \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1\n  \u03c4\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c4\u03b1 \u1f00\u03ba\u03bf\u03cd\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03ad\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1\u1fe6\u03b8\u2019 \u1f15\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u1f00\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\n  \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1fe5\u03b7\u03c4\u03cc\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd\n  \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd, \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03b4\u03c1\u1fb7\u03bd \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f04\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u03c0\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1 \u03bf\u1f31 \u03c0\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9,\n  \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f10\u03be\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03ce\u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. IX.\u2014For what reason, then, should we prefer justice before the\ngreatest injustice?\u2014Should we acquire it by any unfair pretences, we\nshall, both with reference to gods and men, fare according to our wishes\nboth in life and death, as we are told by the sayings both of the\nmultitude and the learned too.\u2014From all that has been said, then,\nSocrates, how shall a man contrive to acquire a will for honouring\njustice, who has any power of mind, or wealth, or body, or birth, and\nnot rather laugh at hearing its praises? Although, therefore, a man be\nable even to show what we have said to be false, and fully knows that\njustice is best, he will, perhaps, greatly excuse and not be angry with\nthe unjust, because he knows, that unless a man through a divine\ninstinct abhor injustice, or from knowledge abstain from it,\u2014of all the\nrest not one is willingly just, but either through cowardice, old age,\nor some other weakness, condemns injustice, when unable to do it. That\nit is so, is plain;\u2014for the first of such persons, who arrives at the\npower, is the first to commit injustice, as far as he is able.\n\nThe reason of all this, again, is no other than that, from whence all\nthis discussion set out between my brother and me and you, Socrates,\nbecause, among all of you, my wonderful man, who call yourselves the\neulogists of justice, from these ancient heroes downwards, of all whose\narguments are left to the men of the present time, no one has ever yet\ncondemned injustice, nor praised justice, otherwise than as respects the\nrepute, honours, and emoluments arising therefrom; while, as respects\neither of them in itself, and subsisting by its own power in the soul of\nthe possessor, and concealed both from gods and men, no one has yet\nsufficiently investigated, either in poetry or prose-writing,\u2014how,\nnamely, that the one is the greatest of all the evils that the soul has\nwithin it, and justice the greatest good: for had it from the beginning\nbeen thus stated by you all, and you had so persuaded us from our youth,\nwe should not need to guard against injustice from our fellows, but\nevery man would be the best guardian over himself, through fear, lest by\ndoing injustice he should dwell with the greatest evil. These things,\nSocrates, and, perhaps also, yet more than these, Thrasymachus, and\nothers too, might say respecting justice and injustice, perverting their\npower, disagreeably as I conceive:[76]\u2014but, I, for I wish to conceal\nnothing from you, am very anxious to hear your refutation, and so say\nthe most I can by way of opposition.\u2014Do not, therefore, merely show us\nin your reasoning, that justice is better than injustice, but in what\nway each by itself affects the mind, the one as in itself evil, and the\nother as good; and put out of the question mere opinion, as Glaucon\nrecommended; for if you do not set aside the true opinions on both\nsides, and add those that are false, we will say you do not praise\njustice, but its appearance, and do not condemn injustice, but its\nappearance,\u2014advising the unjust man to hide himself, and agreeing with\nThrasymachus that justice is a foreign good expedient for the more\npowerful, while injustice is what is expedient and profitable for one\u2019s\nself, but inexpedient for the inferior. Since, then, you have granted\nthat justice is one of those greatest goods, which on account of their\nresults are worthy to be possessed, but yet far more in themselves for\ntheir own sake,\u2014such as sight, hearing, wisdom, health, and all other\ngenuine goods, such as are so in their own nature, and not merely in\nopinion; for this very reason we may praise justice, as intrinsically,\nin itself, profitable to its owner, and injustice harmful; but as for\nrewards and repute, let others sing their praises.\u2014I could endure,\nperhaps, that the rest of the world should thus praise justice and\ncondemn injustice, complimenting and reviling the opinions and rewards\nthat concern them; but certainly [I could not endure] it in you (except\nyou absolutely require it), because you have passed the whole of life,\nengaged in no other inquiry but this.\u2014Show us, then, in course of the\ndiscussion, not only that justice is better than injustice, but also\nwhat either intrinsically by itself makes its owner, whether concealed\nor not from gods and men, the one being good, and the other evil.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 76:\n\n  \u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1ff6\u03c2, \u1f65\u03c2 \u03b3\u2019 \u1f10\u03bc\u03bf\u1f76 \u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. X.\u2014On hearing this, pleased, as I always am, with the disposition\nof Glaucon and Adimantus, I was then, in particular, perfectly\ndelighted, and replied: O sons of that worthy sire [the Sophist,[77]]\nwith good reason does the lover of Glaucon thus begin his elegies [which\nhe made] on you, when you distinguished yourselves in the battle of\nMegara.[78]\n\n                 Ariston\u2019s sons! of sire renown\u2019d afar,\n                 That race divine....\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 77:\n\n  The phrase \u1f10\u03ba\u03b5\u03af\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2 does not refer to their father Cephalus,\n  but to some sophist of whom they were the disciples, and whose dogmas\n  they defended. The words are similarly used in the Philebus. Comp.\n  also \u03c0\u03b1\u1fd6\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b6\u03c9\u03b3\u03c1\u03ac\u03c6\u03c9\u03bd in Legg. vi. p. 769, b.\n\nFootnote 78:\n\n  A battle fought near Megara between the Athenians and Corinthians, in\n  which the former were victors; Ol. 80, 4 (B.C. 453). Comp. Thuc. i.\n  105; Diod. Sic. xi. 79.\n\n-----\n\nThis, friends, seems well observed; for you must be under some influence\nquite divine, if you are not persuaded that injustice is better than\njustice, when you can thus speak in its defence. Still methinks, you are\nnot really persuaded; and I reason from the rest of your behaviour;\nbecause, according to your mode of talking, I should certainly have\ndisbelieved you:\u2014but the more I trust you, the more I am at a loss, as\nto the kind of argument I should use. I know not, indeed, how I am to\ndefend it,\u2014as I seem unable:\u2014and the proof of it is, that, as respects\nwhat I thought I had clearly shown in arguing with Thrasymachus, that\njustice is better than injustice, you did not admit my proofs;\u2014nor, on\nthe other hand, have I any excuse for not defending it; because I fear\nit may be impious to abandon justice, and see it accused when I am\npresent, without defending it, so long as I have breath and am able to\nspeak. It is best then to assist it in such a manner as I can. Hereupon\nGlaucon and the rest entreated me by all means to defend it, and not\nrelinquish the discussion, but rather investigate thoroughly the nature\nof each, and what the truth is, as to their respective advantages. I\nthen stated what I thought,\u2014that the inquiry we were attempting was no\ntrifling one, but one, as appears to me, suited for sharp-sighted\npersons. Since then, said I, we are not very expert, it seems proper to\nmake such an investigation of it, as if a person should order persons\nnot very sharp-sighted to read small letters at a distance, and then\nfind out that the same letters are rather larger elsewhere, and in a\nlarger field;\u2014it would then appear desirable, methinks, first to read\nthese, and then examine the lesser, whether they happen to be the same.\nBy all means, said Adimantus. But what analogy do you perceive,\nSocrates, in the inquiry about justice? I will tell you, said I:\u2014do we\nnot say that justice affects an individual man and an entire state also?\nCertainly, replied he. Is not a state a greater object than an\nindividual? Greater, said he. Perhaps, then, justice will be more fully\ndeveloped in what is greater, and also more easily intelligible:\u2014we will\nfirst, then, if you please, inquire what it is in states; and then, we\nwill in like manner examine it in the individual, searching for the\nsimilitude of the greater in the idea of the less. Yes,\u2014you seem to me,\nsaid he, to speak rightly. If then, said I, we contemplate in argument\nthe rise of a state, shall we not also perceive the rise of justice and\ninjustice? Perhaps so, said he. Well then, if this be the case, is there\nno ground for hoping that we shall more easily find the object of our\ninquiry? Just so. Does it not seem, then, that we ought to try after\nsuccess? for I imagine this is a work of no small importance. Consider\nthen. We have considered, said Adimantus, and do you the same.\n\nCHAP. XI.\u2014A state then, said I, takes its rise, methinks,\u2014because none\nof us individually happens to be self-sufficient, but stands in need of\nmany things; do you think that there is any other origin of the\nsettlement of a state?[79] None, said he. Thus, then, one assisting one\nperson for the want of one thing, and another another for the want of\nanother, as we stand in need of many things, we collect into one\ndwelling many companions and assistants, and to this joint dwelling we\ngive the name of city; do we not? Certainly. One then imparts to\nanother, if he does impart anything, or receives in exchange, thinking\nit will be for his advantage? Certainly. Come then, said I, let us, for\nargument\u2019s sake, form a city from the beginning;\u2014our necessity, as it\nseems, will form it? Of course. But the first and the greatest of wants\nis the provision of food, in order that we may subsist and live?\nAssuredly. The second is of lodging, the third of clothing, and the\nlike? Just so. But come, said I, how will the city be able to make so\ngreat a provision?\u2014Shall not one be a husbandman, another a builder, a\nthird a weaver;\u2014and must we not add to them a shoemaker, or some one\nelse of those that minister to our bodily wants? Certainly. The state\nthen, that is most in need, will consist of only four or five men?[80]\nIt appears so. What then? must each of these contribute his work for the\nwhole in common?\u2014as, for instance, must the husbandman, though only one,\nprovide food for four, and spend fourfold time and labour in providing\nfood and sharing it with others; or is he, without any care for them, to\nprepare for himself alone the fourth part of this food in the fourth\npart of the time, while of the other three parts of his time, he employs\none in the providing a house, another clothing, the other shoes,\u2014and not\ntrouble himself to share with others, but give his whole attention to\nhis own affairs? And Adimantus said\u2014Aye, but perhaps the former way,\nSocrates, is easier than the latter. By Zeus, that is not amiss, said\nI:\u2014for, while you are speaking, I am thinking that first of all we are\nborn not each perfectly alike to each, but differing in disposition,\u2014one\nfitted for doing one thing, and another for another;\u2014does it not seem so\nto you? It does. What then?\u2014Will a man do better, when, as a single\nindividual, he works in many arts, or only in one? When one works in\none, said he. This, moreover, is also plain, methinks;\u2014that if one miss\nthe seasonable time for any work, it is ruined? Clearly. Aye,\u2014for the\nwork, methinks, will not wait on the leisure of the workman, but the\nworkman must necessarily attend closely on his work, not in the way of a\nby-job? He must. And hence more will be done, and better, and with\ngreater ease, when every one does but one thing, according to his\ngenius, at the proper time, and when at leisure from all other pursuits.\nQuite so, said he. Surely, Adimantus, we need more citizens than four\nfor the provisions that we mentioned: for the husbandman, it seems, will\nnot himself make his own plough, if it is to be good, nor yet a spade or\nany other instruments of agriculture:\u2014neither, again, will the\nbuilder,\u2014for he, likewise, needs many things; and in the same way, the\nweaver also and the shoemaker:\u2014is it not so? True. Carpenters, then, and\nsmiths, and many other such workmen, by becoming members of our little\ncity, make it throng? Certainly. Yet it would be no very great matter,\neither, if we added to them herdsmen also, and shepherds, and all other\nsorts of graziers,\u2014in order that both the husbandmen may have oxen for\nploughing, and the builders by aid of the husbandmen may have cattle for\ntheir carriages, and the weavers also, and shoemakers, hides and wool.\nYet it would be no very small city, said he, that had all these.\nMoreover, said I, it is all but impossible to settle the city itself in\nsuch a place that it will not require imported goods. Impossible.\nSurely, then, it will require others in addition, to bring to it what it\nneeds from other cities. It will require them. And, moreover, if the\nservant were to go empty, taking with him nothing that they need from\nwhom what they themselves require is imported, he will return empty;\nwill he not? I think so. It is necessary for them, then, not only to\nproduce what is sufficient for themselves, but such and as many things\nalso, as are required by those whose services they require. It ought.\nOur city, then, certainly wants many more husbandmen and other kinds of\nworkmen. Aye, many more. And all other servants besides, to import and\nexport the several articles; and these are merchants, are they not? Yes.\nWe shall want merchants then, as well? Certainly. And if the traffic is\ncarried on by sea, it will want many others besides, skilled in\nnavigation. Many others, truly.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 79:\n\n  Aristotle has made some unnecessarily severe strictures on this notion\n  in his Polit. iv. ch. 4, which are ingeniously refuted by Morgenstern,\n  Comment. de Plat. Rep. on this passage.\n\nFootnote 80:\n\n  Comp. here the strictures in Aristotle\u2019s Polit. iv. 3 and 4.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XII.\u2014What then;\u2014in the city itself, how will they exchange with\none another what each has produced, for the sake of which, we have\nformed a city and established a community? It is plain, said he, that by\nselling and buying [they will do so]. A market-place, therefore, and an\nestablished coinage, as a symbol for the purposes of exchange, must\nspring up from hence. Certainly. If then the husbandman, or any other\nworkman, bring any of his work to the market, but does not come at the\nsame time as those who want to make exchanges with him, will he not,\nwhile sitting in the market, be unoccupied at his trade? By no means,\nsaid he; for there are some, who, observing this, devote themselves to\nthis service; and, in well-regulated cities, they are chiefly such, as\nare weakest in body and unfit for any other work;\u2014these then should\nattend about the market, to give money in exchange for what people wish\nto sell, and goods in exchange for money to such as want to buy. It is\nthis want, said I, that provides our city with a race of shopkeepers;\nfor do we not call those shopkeepers, who sit in the market, and serve\nboth in selling and buying; whereas such as travel to other cities we\ncall merchants? Certainly. There are certain other servants still, I\nconceive, who, though as regards intellectual power unworthy to be taken\ninto society, yet possess bodily strength adequate for labour; and these\nselling the use of their strength, and calling the reward of it hire,\nare called, I think, hired labourers;\u2014are they not? Just so. Hired\nlabourers then, as it seems, form the complement of a city. Aye, it\nseems so. Has our city then, Adimantus, so increased on us already, as\nto be complete? Perhaps. Where, then, will justice and injustice be\nplaced in it; and, in which of the matters that we have considered is it\nengendered? I do not know, said he, Socrates, unless it be somehow in a\ncertain use of these very things with one another. Perhaps, said I, you\nare right:\u2014but yet we must consider the point, and not avoid it. First,\nthen, let us consider how the persons thus procured are to be\nsupported.\u2014In making bread and wine, and clothes, and shoes, and\nbuilding houses, will they not work in summer, chiefly without clothes\nand shoes, but in winter, sufficiently clad and shod? and will they be\nsupported partly on barley made into meal, and partly on wheat made into\nloaves, partly boiled and partly toasted, with fine loaves and cakes\nplaced over a fire of stubble or dried leaves, and will they feast, they\nand their children, resting on couches strewed with smilax and\nmyrtle-leaves,\u2014drinking wine, crowned, and singing to the gods,\npleasantly living together, begetting children not beyond their means,\nand cautiously guarding against poverty or war?\n\nCHAP. XIII.\u2014Glaucon then, in answer, said: You make the men feast, it\nseems, without esculents.[81] You say true, said I: I forgot that they\nwere to have esculents too;\u2014and they will clearly have salt, and olives,\nand cheese, and will boil bulbous roots, and potherbs, such as are\ncooked in the fields: and we will set before them desserts of figs,\npeas, and beans; and they will toast at the fire myrtle-berries and\nbeech-nuts, drinking in moderation; and thus passing their life in peace\nhealthily, they will die in old age, probably, and leave a similar mode\nof life to their children. Socrates, said he, if you had been making a\ncity of hogs, on what else but these would you have fed them? But what\nought we to do then, Glaucon? said I. What is usual, said he: let them\nlie down on beds, I think, unless they are to live miserably, and take\ntheir meals from tables, and have esculents, as the present men have,\nand desserts. Be it so, said I:\u2014I understand. We are considering, it\nseems, not only how a city, but how a luxurious city may exist; and\nperhaps it is not amiss: for, in considering one of this character, we\nmay probably see how justice and injustice arise in cities. But the true\ncity, which we have lately described, seems to me just like a person\nthat is in health; but if you are desirous that we should inspect, also,\na city that is inflated, there can be no objection to it: for these\nthings [that concern a merely simple mode of life] will not of course\nsuffice for some, nor will this sort of life satisfy them; but there\nmust be beds, tables, and all other articles of furniture,\u2014seasonings,\nunguents, and perfumes, mistresses, confections, and many miscellaneous\narticles of this description. And especially as to what we before\nmentioned, we must no longer consider these as alone necessary,\u2014namely,\nhouses, and clothes, and shoes; but we must set in operation painting\ntoo, and all the refined arts, and must possess gold, and ivory, and all\nthings of that kind; must we not? Yes, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 81:\n\n  The Greek \u1f44\u03c8\u03bf\u03bd is not to be translated, except by a periphrasis. It\n  strictly means _boiled meat_, as opposed to bread,\u2014but more generally,\n  as here, anything eaten with bread or other food to give it flavour\n  and relish.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XIV.\u2014Must we not, then, increase the size of our city?\u2014For that\nhealthy one is no longer sufficient, but already full of repletion and\nabundance of such things as are in nowise requisite for cities,\u2014such as\nall kinds of sportsmen, and imitative artists, many of whom imitate in\nfigures and colours, and many in music: poets too, and their assistants,\nrhapsodists, actors, dancers, contractors,[82] and manufacturers of all\nsorts of trinkets, especially of those belonging to female attire; and\nin that case, too, we shall require many more servants; and think you\nnot they will require teachers, nurses, tutors, hair-dressers, barbers,\nconfectioners, too, and cooks? Aye, and further still, we shall want\nswine-herds. Of these, indeed, there were none in the other state (for\nthere needed none); but in this we shall need these also; and shall\nrequire, too, many other sorts of cattle, if any one eats them; shall we\nnot? Of course. Shall we not, then, in this mode of life, require\nphysicians far more than in the former one? Much more.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 82:\n\n  Gr. \u1f10\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03bb\u03ac\u03b2\u03bf\u03b9, i. e. persons undertaking for a certain sum to complete\n  a house or any other given task.\n\n-----\n\nAnd the land, perhaps, which at first sufficed to support the\ninhabitants, will, instead of being sufficient, become too little; or\nhow shall we say? Just so, said he. Must we not then cut off a part from\nthe neighbouring country, if we would have enough for arable and\npasture, and they in turn from ours, if they on their part devote\nthemselves to the accumulation of boundless wealth, going beyond the\nlimits of mere necessity?\n\nWe must, Socrates, said he. Shall we go to war afterwards, Glaucon, or\nhow shall we do? Certainly, said he. But let us not yet, said I,\nconsider the question, whether war produces harm or good,\u2014but thus much\nonly, that we have found the origin of war, and whence especially arise\nmischiefs to cities, both privately and publicly. Aye, indeed. We shall\nrequire, then, friend, a still larger city,\u2014not for a small, but for a\nlarge army, which may go out and fight with those who assail it, for\ntheir whole substance and everything that we have now mentioned. What,\nsaid he, are not these sufficient to fight? No, said I;\u2014not if you and\nall of us were rightly agreed, when we formed our state: and we agreed,\nif you remember, that it was impossible for a single person to practise\nmany arts well. True, said he. What then, said I, do not struggles in\nwar seem to require art? Very much so, said he. Ought we then to take\nmore care of the shoemaking art than of that of warfare? By no means.\nBut we charged the shoemaker not to attempt to be at the same time a\nhusbandman, or a weaver, or a builder, in order that the work of\nshoemaking might be well done; and in like manner we allotted to each of\nthe others a single calling, to which each was adapted by nature, and at\nwhich, each by abstaining from the rest, and applying to it the whole of\nhis life, and not neglecting the proper opportunities, he would be\nlikely to work well; but is it not of the greatest importance that what\nconcerns war should be well performed? or is it so easy that one who is\na husbandman may also be a soldier, and a shoemaker, and one who\npractises any other art,\u2014while no one could become a skilful chess or\ndice player, who does not study it from childhood, but makes it a mere\nby-work? and can a person who takes a spear or other warlike arms and\ninstruments, instantly become an expert combatant in an armed encounter\nor aught else relating to war; while, as respects the tools of any other\nart whatever, one cannot become a good artist, or even a wrestler to any\nuseful extent, without having correct knowledge and bestowing sufficient\nattention? In that case, such tools, said he, would truly be very\nvaluable.\n\nCHAP. XV.\u2014Therefore, said I, by how much more important is the work of\nthe state-guardians, by so much will it require the greatest leisure\nfrom other pursuits, and likewise the greatest art and study! I really\nthink so, replied he. And will it not also require natural talents\nsuited to this particular profession? Of course. I think, then, we\nshould make it our special business, if possible, to choose what men and\nwhat talents are suited for the guardianship of a state. Aye, our\nspecial business. By Zeus, said I, in that case we have undertaken no\ntrifling business; but, still we must not despair, as long, at least, as\nwe have any ability. Of course not, said he. Think you, then, said I,\nthat the genius of a high-bred whelp at all differs as respects\nguardianship, from that of a high-bred youth? What do you mean? For\ninstance, must not each of them be acute in perception, swift in\npursuing what he perceives, and strong likewise, if he wants, when he\nhas taken, to overcome it? Of all these there is great need, said he.\nAnd surely he must be brave also, if he is to fight well. Of course. But\nis he likely to be brave, who has not a high spirit;[83] whether horse,\nor dog, or any other animal? Have you not observed, how irresistible and\ninvincible is anger, and, when it is present, that every soul is\nfearless of everything and indomitable? I have. It is plain, then, what\nspecies of guardian we ought to have, as respects the body? Yes. And\nwith reference to his soul moreover, that he should be spirited. That is\nclear, also. How then, said I, Glaucon, can they be otherwise than\nsavage towards each other and the other citizens, when of such a temper?\nBy Zeus, said he, not easily. Still it is necessary, that towards their\nfriends they should be mild, but towards their enemies fierce:\u2014for\notherwise they would not wait for others to destroy them, but rather be\nbeforehand with them in doing it. True, said he. What shall we do, then,\nsaid I;\u2014whence shall we find a disposition at the same time mild and\nmagnanimous?\u2014for the mild nature is surely opposed to the high-spirited?\nIt appears so. Nevertheless, if he be deprived of either of these, he\ncannot be a good guardian; but this seems to be impossible:\u2014and thus it\nturns out that it is impossible there should be a good guardian. It\nseems so, said he. Then I, being at a loss, and considering what had\npassed, said:\u2014We very justly hesitate, my friend, for we have departed\nfrom the image that we first established. How say you? Did we not\nobserve that there are such kinds of tempers as we imagined did not\nexist, having these opposite qualities? Where? One may see it also in\nother animals, and not a little in that, to which we compared our\nguardian; for you know it is the natural temper of generous dogs to be\nas gentle as possible towards their intimates and their acquaintances,\nbut the reverse to those whom they know not. Aye,\u2014I know it. This then,\nsaid I, is quite possible; and we do not unnaturally require our\nguardian to be so. It seems not.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 83:\n\n  Gr. \u1f10\u03b8\u03b5\u03bb\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9, in the sense of \u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9 or \u03b4\u03cd\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XVI.\u2014Are you, further, of opinion, that he who is to be our\nguardian should, besides being spirited, have a philosophic nature also?\nHow? said he:\u2014for I do not understand. This too, said I, you will\nobserve in dogs, what is also well worthy of admiration in the brute.\nWhat? He is angry at every unknown person that he sees, though he has\nnever suffered ill from him before; but one that is known he fawns upon,\neven though he may never have received any good from him. Did you never\nwonder at this? I never, said he, thought of it before; but he does so,\nit is clear. Moreover, this affection of his nature appears elegant at\nleast, and truly philosophic. In what respect? Because, said I, it\ndistinguishes a friendly and unfriendly aspect by nothing else but\nthis,\u2014that it knows the one, but not the other:\u2014and how can we refuse to\nconsider that as the love of learning, which defines the friendly and\nthe foreign by intelligence and ignorance? By no means, said he:\u2014it\ncannot be otherwise. Nevertheless, said I, to be a lover of learning and\na philosopher, are the same. The same, said he. May we not then boldly\nlay down [the principle,] that in man too, if any one be mild towards\nhis intimates and acquaintances, he must by nature be a philosopher and\na lover of learning? Let us so lay it down, said he.\n\nHe, then, who intends to be a good and worthy state-guardian, should be\nby nature a philosopher, spirited, swift, and strong. By all means, said\nhe. Let him, then, be just such as this, said I. In what manner, then,\nshall they be trained and instructed? and will the consideration of this\nat all aid us in perceiving the object, for the sake of which we are\nconsidering all these things; that is to say, how justice and injustice\narise in a state? that we may not omit any necessary part of our\nargument, or wade through what is superfluous? Then, said Glaucon\u2019s\nbrother: I, for my part, quite expect, that this inquiry will conduce to\nthis end. By Zeus, said I, friend Adimantus, we must not dismiss it;\neven though it be somewhat too long. No, truly. Come then, let us, as if\nwe were talking in the way of fable, and at our leisure, give some ideal\ntraining to these men.[84] It is right to do so.\n\nCHAP. XVII.\u2014What then is the education?\u2014Is it difficult to discover a\nbetter than has been discovered for a long time? that is, surely,\ngymnastics for the body, and music for the mind? It is. Must we not\nfirst, then, begin by teaching music, rather than gymnastics? Of course.\nWhen you say music, you mean arguments, do you not? I do. But of\narguments there are two kinds,\u2014the one true, the other false. Yes. And\nthey must be instructed in both,\u2014but first in the false. I do not\nunderstand, said he, what you mean. Know you not, said I, that first of\nall we tell children fables;\u2014and this, [surely,] to speak generally, is\nfalsehood; though there is some truth in it; but we employ fables with\nchildren before gymnastic exercises. We do. This was what I meant, then,\nby saying that we must begin music before gymnastics. Right, said he.\nAnd know you not, that the beginning of every work is most important,\nespecially to any one young and tender;\u2014because then that particular\nimpression is most easily instilled and formed, which any one may wish\nto imprint on each individual. Entirely so. Shall we then let children\nhear any kind of fables composed by any kind of persons, and receive\ninto their minds opinions in a great measure contrary to those which we\nthink they should have when they are grown up? We should by no means\nallow it. First of all, then, as it seems, we must exercise control over\nthe fable-makers; and whatever beautiful fable they may invent, we\nshould select, and what is not so, we should reject:\u2014and we are to\nprevail on nurses and mothers to repeat to the children such fables as\nare selected, and fashion their minds by fables, much more than their\nbodies by their hands. But very many of those that they now tell them\nmust be cast aside. What, for instance? said he. In the more important\nfables, said I, we shall see the lesser likewise:\u2014for the fashion of\nthem must be the same; and both the greater and the less must have the\nsame kind of influence:\u2014do not you think so? I do, said he: but I do not\nat all understand, which of them you call the greater. Those, said I,\nwhich both Hesiod and Homer told us, and the other poets also:\u2014for they\ncomposed and related false fables for mankind, and do still relate them.\nWhat class, said he, do you mean;\u2014and what do you blame in them? That,\nsaid I, which ought first and most of all to be blamed,\u2014especially when\none does not falsify well. What is that? When a poet, in his\ncomposition, exhibits bad representations of the nature of gods and\nheroes,\u2014just as a painter draws a picture not at all resembling what he\nwas intending to paint. Yes, it is quite right, said he, that such as\nthese should be blamed:\u2014but how do we say, and in what respect? First of\nall, said I, with reference to that greatest falsehood, in matters of\ngrave importance too, in saying which he did not falsify well, that\nUranus made what Hesiod says he did; and then again how Kronos punished\nhim, and what Kronos did, and suffered from his son:[85] for though\nthese things were true, yet I think they should not be so readily told\nto the unwise and the young, but rather concealed from them;\u2014and were\nthere need to tell them, they should be heard in secrecy, by as few as\npossible, after sacrificing not a [valueless] hog,[86] but some great\nand wonderful sacrifice, in order that it may fall to the lot of the\nfewest possible to hear them. These fables, said he, are indeed\ninjurious. Neither are they to be told, Adimantus, said I, in our\nstate:\u2014nor should it be said in the hearing of a youth, that he who\ncommits the most extreme injustice, or that he who punishes in every\npossible way a father who commits injustice, does nothing strange, but\nonly does the same as the first and the greatest of the gods. No truly,\nsaid he, nor do such things as these seem to me proper to be said.\nNeither, generally, said I, must it be told, how gods war with gods, and\nplot and fight against one another (for such assertions are not\ntrue),\u2014if, at least, it be the duty of those who are to guard the state\nto esteem it most shameful to hate each other on slight grounds. As\nlittle ought we to describe in fables, and with ornamental aids, the\nbattles of the giants, and other many and various feuds, both of gods\nand heroes, with their own kindred and relations:\u2014but if we would\npersuade them that never at all should one citizen hate another, and\nthat it is not holy, such things as these are rather to be told them in\nearly childhood, by the old men and women and those well advanced in\nlife; and the poets should be obliged to compose consistently with these\nviews. And [the fables of] Hera fettered by her son,[87] and Heph\u00e6stus\nhurled from heaven by his father for going to assist his mother when\nbeaten,[88] and all those battles of the gods which Homer has composed,\nwe must not admit into our state;\u2014either in allegory or without\nallegory; for young persons are not able to judge what is allegory and\nwhat is not, but whatever opinions they receive at such an age are wont\nto be obliterated with difficulty, and immovable. Hence, one would\nthink, we should of all things endeavour, that what they first hear be\ncomposed in the best manner for exciting them to virtue.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 84:\n\n  Gr. \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u1ff3 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03b4\u03b5\u03cd\u03c9\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd. Comp. ch. iv. 361 b, and De Legg. iv. p. 712\n  a:\u2014\u03c0\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u1ff3 \u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2.\n\nFootnote 85:\n\n  Comp. Hesiod. Theogon. v. 154-6, and 178-80.\n\nFootnote 86:\n\n  Allusion is here made to the mysteries of Eleusis, in which all about\n  to be initiated sacrificed a hog,\u2014a circumstance referred to by\n  Aristophanes, Pax, v. 373-5; Acharn. vv. 747 and 764. The verb \u1f00\u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\n  refers to the cabalistic oaths and secrets that were listened to\n  during the process of initiation.\n\nFootnote 87:\n\n  Suidas tells us, under the word \u1f2d\u03c1\u03b1, that the myth here alluded to was\n  mentioned in a passage of Pindar, and that it was to be found also in\n  a comedy of Epicharmus, both now lost.\n\nFootnote 88:\n\n  Comp. Hom. Il. i. v. 588.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XVIII.\u2014There is reason for it, said he:\u2014but, if any one should ask\nus about these, what they are, and what kind of fables, which should we\nname? Adimantus, I replied, you and I are not poets at present, but\nfounders of a city, and it is the founder\u2019s business to know the models\non which the poets are to compose their fables, contrary to which they\nare not to be tolerated; but it is not our province to make fables for\nthem. Right, said he. But as to this very thing,\u2014namely, the models to\nbe taken in speaking about the gods, what must they be? Some such as\nthese, said I:\u2014God is always to be represented such as he is, whether we\nrepresent him in epic, in song, or in tragedy. Necessarily so. Is not\nGod essentially good, and is he not to be described as such? Without\ndoubt. But nothing that is good is hurtful, is it? I do not think so.\nDoes then what is not hurtful ever hurt? By no means. Does that, which\nhurts not, do any evil? Nor this either. And what does no evil cannot be\nthe cause of any evil? Of course not. But what?\u2014good is beneficial. Yes.\nIt is, therefore, the cause of prosperity? Yes. Good, therefore, is not\nthe cause of all things, but the cause of those things only which are in\na right state,\u2014not the cause of those things which are in a wrong state.\nEntirely so, said he. Neither, then, can God, said I, since he is good,\nbe the cause of all things, as the many say, but only the cause of a few\nthings to men, but of many things not the cause; for our blessings are\nmuch fewer than our troubles: and no other must be assigned as the cause\nof our blessings; whereas of our troubles we must seek some other\ncauses, and not God. You seem to me, said he, to speak most truly. We\nmust not admit, then, said I, that error of Homer or any other poet who\nfoolishly errs with respect to the gods, and says how\u2014\n\n           Fast by the threshold of Jove\u2019s courts are placed\n           Two casks; one stored with evil, one with good,\n           From which the God dispenses as he wills.\n           For whom the glorious Thund\u2019rer mingles both,\n           He leads a life chequer\u2019d with good and ill\n           Alternate; but to whom he gives unmix\u2019d\n           The bitter cup, he makes that man a curse,\n           His name becomes a by-word of reproach,\n           His strength is hunger-bitten, and he walks\n           The blessed earth unblest, go where he may,\u2014[89]\n\nNor, that Zeus\u2014\n\n               Grants mortal man both happiness and woe.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 89:\n\n  Hom. Il. xxiv. v. 527-31.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XIX.\u2014As regards the violation of oaths and treaties which Pandarus\neffected, if any should say it was done by the agency of Athena and\nZeus, we cannot approve;\u2014neither [if he were to relate] the dissension\namong the gods, and the judgment by Themis and Zeus; nor yet must we\nsuffer the youth to hear what \u00c6schylus says; how,\n\n             Forthwith to mortals God invents a cause,\n             Whene\u2019er he wills their dwellings to destroy;\u2014\n\nand, besides, if any one is making poetical compositions, in which are\nthese iambics, the sufferings of Niobe, of the Pelopides, or the\nTrojans, or others of a like nature, we must either not suffer him to\nsay, that they are the works of God,\u2014or, if of God, we must discover\nthat principle of action which we now require, and say, that God did\nwhat was just and good, and that they were benefited by being chastised:\nand we must not let a poet say, that those are miserable who are\npunished, and that it is God who does these things. If they say,\nhowever, that the wicked, as being miserable, need correction, and that,\nin being punished, they are benefited by God, we may suffer the\nassertion.\u2014To say, however, that God, who is good, is the cause of ill\nto any one, this we must by all means oppose, and suffer no one to say\nso in our state; if at any rate we wish it well governed;\u2014neither must\nwe allow any one, young or old, to hear such things told in fable,\neither in verse or prose,\u2014as their relation is neither consistent with\nholiness, nor profitable to us, nor consistent with themselves.\n\nI vote along with you, said he, as respects this law,\u2014for it quite\npleases me. This, then, said I, is probably one of the laws and models\nas respects the gods, by which it will be necessary for those who speak\nto speak and for those who compose to compose, that God is not the cause\nof all things, but of good. Yes, said he, of course. But what as to this\nsecond law?\u2014Think you that God is a sorcerer, and appears designedly, at\ndifferent times, in different shapes,\u2014sometimes like himself,\u2014and, at\nother times, changing his form into many shapes,\u2014sometimes deceiving us\nand making us conceive false opinions of him;\u2014or, that he is simple, and\nthat he by no means quits his proper form? I cannot, now, at least, say\nso, replied he. But what as to this;\u2014if anything be changed from its\nproper form, must it not be necessarily changed by itself, or by\nanother? Undoubtedly. Are not those things which are in the best state,\nchanged and moved least of all other by another;\u2014as the body, by meats\nand drinks, and labours, and all kinds of plants by droughts and winds,\nand such like accidents? Is not the most healthy and vigorous least of\nall changed? Surely. And as to the soul itself, will not external\naccidents least of all disorder and change the bravest and wisest? Yes.\nAnd surely all manufactured vessels, and buildings, and vestments, such\nas are properly made and in a right state, are according to the same\nreasoning least of all changed by time, or other accidents? Such is the\ncase. Everything then, which is in a good state, either by nature or\nart, or both, receives the smallest change from another. It seems so.\nBut God, and all that belongs to divinity, are in the best state? Of\ncourse. In this way, then, God should least of all have many shapes?\nLeast of all, truly.\n\nCHAP. XX.\u2014Again,\u2014should he change and alter himself? Clearly so, said\nhe, if he be changed at all. Does he then change himself to what is\nbetter, and fairer, or to the worse, and more deformed? To the worse,\nsurely, replied he,\u2014if he be changed at all; for we can never say, that\nGod is at all deficient in beauty or excellence. You speak most\ncorrectly, said I. And this being so, think you, Adimantus, that any\none, either of gods or men, would willingly make himself any way worse?\nImpossible, said he. It is impossible, then, said I, for a god to desire\nto change himself; but, as it seems, each being most beautiful and\nexcellent, continues always to the utmost of his power invariably in his\nown form. This seems a necessary conclusion, said he. Well then, said I,\nmost excellent Adimantus, let not any of the poets tell us, how\n\n                   ... in similitude of strangers oft\n             The gods, who can with ease all shapes assume,\n             Repair to populous cities....[90]\n\nNeither let any one belie Proteus and Thetis, nor introduce Hera in\ntragedies or other poems, as having transformed herself into a\npriestess, collecting for\n\n                    Those life-sustaining sons\n                    Of Inachus, the Argive streams;\u2014\n\nnor let them tell us many other such falsehoods:\u2014nor again, let mothers,\npersuaded by them, terrify their children, telling the stories\nwrong,\u2014as, that certain gods wander by night,\n\n             Resembling various guests, in various forms,\u2014\n\nlest they should, at one and the same time, blaspheme against the gods,\nand make their children cowards. Surely not, said he. But do the gods,\nsaid I, who in themselves never change, still make us imagine that they\nappear in various forms, deceiving us, and playing the sorcerer? Perhaps\nthey do, said he. What, said I;\u2014can a god wish to deceive,\u2014holding up a\nmere phantom, either in word or deed? I know not, said he. Know you not,\nsaid I, that a real falsehood (if we be allowed to say so), both all the\ngods and men abhor? How mean you? replied he. Thus, said I: that to be\ndeceived in the most excellent part of oneself, and that about one\u2019s\nhighest interests, is what no one wishes of his own accord; but, of all\nthings, every one is most afraid of this happening to him. Even yet,\nsaid he, I do not understand you. Because, said I, you think I am saying\nsomething awful:\u2014but I am saying, that for the soul to be deceived with\nrespect to realities, and to be so deceived and ignorant, and in that to\nhave obtained and to maintain a falsehood, is what every one would least\nof all choose; and would most hate it in the soul. Most especially, said\nhe. But this, as I was now saying, might very correctly be termed a real\nfalsehood\u2014ignorance in the soul of the deceived person; for imitation in\nwords is a kind of image of the affection the soul feels, and springs up\nafterwards, and is not altogether a pure falsehood:\u2014is it not so?\nAssuredly.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 90:\n\n  Odyss. xvii. v. 485, 6.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XXI.\u2014But a real falsehood is not only hated by the gods, but also\nby men. It appears so to me. But what as to a falsehood in words? when\nis it of such service, so as not to deserve hatred?\u2014Is it not when\nemployed towards enemies, and some even of those called friends,\u2014when\nduring madness, or other folly, they attempt to do some mischief;\u2014in\nthat case, is it not useful for dissuasion as a drug;\u2014and in the fables\nwe just mentioned, because we know not how the truth stands about\nancient things, do we not forge a falsehood resembling the truth as much\nas possible, and so make it useful? It certainly is so, said he. In\nwhich of these cases, then, is a falsehood useful to God?\u2014Does he invent\na falsehood resembling the truth, because he is ignorant of ancient\nthings? That were ridiculous, said he. In God, then, there is not a\nlying poet? I think not. But would he invent a falsehood through fear of\nhis enemies? Far from it. Or on account of the folly or madness of his\nfriends? No, said he, none of the foolish and mad are beloved of God.\nThere is no occasion at all, then, for a god to invent a falsehood?\nNone. The divine and godlike nature, then, is altogether free from\nfalsehood? Entirely so, said he. God, then, is quite simple and true,\nboth in word and deed; neither is he changed himself, nor does he\ndeceive others,\u2014neither by visions, nor discourse, nor the pomp of\nsigns, neither when we are awake nor when we sleep? So it appears to me,\nsaid he, just as you say. You agree then, said I, that this shall be the\nsecond principle which we are to lay down both in speaking and composing\nconcerning the gods,[91]\u2014namely, that they are neither sorcerers and\nchange themselves, nor mislead us by falsehoods, either in word or deed?\nI agree. While, then, we commend many other things in Homer, this we\nshall not commend,\u2014namely, the dream sent by Jupiter to Agamemnon; nor\nthat in \u00c6schylus, when he makes Thetis say that Apollo had sung at her\nmarriage, that\n\n           ... her happy lot should be\n           To bear an offspring fair, from ailment free,\n           And blest with lengthen\u2019d days; and then the God,\n           Unfolding all, with p\u00e6ans high proclaim\u2019d\n           Thy heaven-blest fortunes, welcome to my soul\n           I hoped that all was true that Ph\u0153bus sang!\n           So sweetly tuned with high prophetic art;\u2014\n           But he who at my nuptials joy foretold,\n           The same is he, who now hath slain my child.\n\nWhen any one alleges such things as these about the gods, we must show\ndisapproval, and not grant them the privilege of a chorus; neither\nshould we suffer teachers to employ them in the training of youth,\u2014if at\nleast our guardians are to be pious and divine men, as far as man can\nbe. As to all these models, I entirely agree with you, said he, and I\nshould adopt them as laws.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 91:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u03b5\u03cd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03cd\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f10\u03bd \u1fa7 \u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n  \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd.\n\n-----\n\n\n                      THE END OF THE SECOND BOOK.\n\n\n                               BOOK III.\n\n                               ARGUMENT.\n\nIn the _third book_ he continues to dilate on music and gymnastics, and\n    then proceeds to treat of the talents, habits, and education\n    suitable for the inferior magistrates of a state. Lastly, from the\n    interpretation of a certain Ph\u0153nician fable, he demonstrates the\n    need of a community and general harmony between citizens, as being\n    truly brethren and members of the same family. It is quite\n    necessary, however, that there should be a distinct and well-ordered\n    \u03b5\u1f50\u03c4\u03b1\u03be\u03af\u03b1, because some are capable of being \u03c7\u03c1\u03cd\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2, others only\n    \u1f04\u03c1\u03b3\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, and so on, according to caste, talent, and conduct, all\n    together composing the state;\u2014and lastly, he expresses\n    disapprobation at the great weight given to the sayings of poets,\n    whom accordingly he wishes to be excluded from his ideal republic,\n    though he willingly accords them honour on account of their great\n    learning.\n\nCHAP. I.\u2014Concerning the gods, then, said I, such things as these are, it\nseems, to be both heard, and not heard, from childhood upwards, by those\nwho will honour the gods and parents, and not lightly esteem mutual\nfriendship. Aye,\u2014and methinks, said he, these things are rightly so\nunderstood. But what then?\u2014If men are to be brave, must not these things\nbe told them, and such others likewise, as may make them least of all\nafraid of death; or, think you, that any one can ever be brave, who has\nthis fear within him? Not I, truly, said he. But what? think you any one\ncan be free from the fear of death, while he conceives that there is\nHades\u2014and a dreadful place, too,\u2014and that in battles he will choose\ndeath in preference to defeat and slavery? Surely not.\n\nWe ought then, it seems, to take the command, also, of those who\nundertake to discourse about these fables, and entreat them not so\nsweepingly to abuse what is in Hades, but rather to praise it;\u2014since\nthey neither speak what is true, nor what is expedient for those who\nmean to be soldiers. We ought indeed, said he. Beginning then, said I,\nat this verse, we will omit all such as these:\u2014\n\n                              I had rather live\n          The servile hind for hire, and eat the bread\n          Of some man scantily, himself sustained,\n          Than sovereign empire hold o\u2019er all the shades;[92]\u2014\n\nAnd this\u2014\n\n                                 Lest Neptune o\u2019er his head\n           Shattering the vaulted earth, should wide disclose\n           To mortal and immortal eyes his realm\n           Terrible, squalid, to the gods themselves\n           A dreaded spectacle;\u2014\n\nAnd\u2014\n\n           Oh, then, ye gods! there doubtless are below,\n           The soul and semblance both, but empty forms;[93]\u2014\n\nAnd\u2014\n\n         He\u2019s wise alone, the rest are flutt\u2019ring shades;[94]\u2014\n\nAnd\u2014\n\n              Down into Hades from his limbs dismiss\u2019d\n              His spirit fled sorrowful, of youth\u2019s prime\n              And vigorous manhood suddenly bereft;[95]\u2014\n\nAnd\u2014\n\n              ... His soul, like smoke, down to the shades\n              Fled howling....[96]\n\nAnd\u2014\n\n          As when the bats within some hallow\u2019d cave\n          Flit screaming all around; for if but one\n          Fall from the rock, the rest all follow him;\n          In such connexion mutual they adhere;\n          So ... the ghosts\n          Troop\u2019d downward, gibbering all the dreary way.[97]\n\nAs to these and all such like passages, we must request Homer and the\nother poets not to be offended at our erasing them,\u2014not as unpoetical\nand displeasing to the ears of the multitude;\u2014for the more poetical they\nare, the less should they be listened to by children, or men either, who\nwould be free, and fear slavery more than death. Aye, by all means.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 92:\n\n  Odyss. xi. v. 488-91.\n\nFootnote 93:\n\n  Il. xxiii. v. 103.\n\nFootnote 94:\n\n  Il. xxii. v. 265.\n\nFootnote 95:\n\n  Il. xvi. v. 856.\n\nFootnote 96:\n\n  Il. xxii. v. 100.\n\nFootnote 97:\n\n  Odyss. xxiv. v. 6.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. II.\u2014Further, are not all dreadful and frightful titles also, about\nthese things, to be rejected;\u2014Cocytus and Styx, the infernals, the\nlife-lorn, and many other appellations of this character, such as make\nall hearers shudder?\u2014and perhaps they may well serve some other purpose;\nbut we fear for our guardians, lest by such terror they be made more\neffeminate and soft than is fitting. We are in the right too, to be\nafraid of that, said he. Are these then to be suppressed? Yes. And must\nthey speak, then, and compose on a contrary model to these? Plainly so.\nAnd are we likewise to suppress the wailings and lamentations of\nillustrious men? We must, said he, if we do the former. Consider then,\nsaid I, whether we shall suppress them rightly or not,\u2014and do we say,\nthat the virtuous man to another virtuous man\u2014whose friend he is\u2014deems\ndeath dreadful? We do. He would not then, at any rate, lament over him,\nas if he had suffered something dreadful? No, indeed. And we say this\nlikewise, that such an one is most of all self-sustained as regards\nliving happily, and distinctively above all others, least in need of\nforeign aid. True, said he. To him, then, it is least dreadful to be\ndeprived of a son, a brother, or property, or other like things? Aye,\nleast of all so. Least of all then will he lament, but rather endure\nwith the utmost meekness whatever trouble may befal him? Certainly. We\nshould be right then in suppressing the lamentations of famous men, and\nshould assign them to women, (and among these even not to the better\nsort), and to such men as are cowards; in order that, as regards those\nwhom we propose to educate for the guardianship of the country, they may\ndisdain to act thus. Right, said he. Again, then, we will entreat Homer\nand the rest of the poets not to say in their compositions about\nAchilles, the son of a goddess, that\n\n           Now on his side he lay, now lay supine,\n           Now prone; then starting from his couch he roam\u2019d\n           Forlorn the beach....[98]\n\nNor how\u2014\n\n            ... grasping with both hands the ashes,\n            Down he pour\u2019d them burning on his head....[99]\n\nNor the rest of his lamentation and wailing,\u2014of whatever kind and\nquantity he made them;\u2014nor Priam, near as he was to the gods, who\u2014\n\n             ... to all\u2014kneel\u2019d\n             In turn, then roll\u2019d himself in dust, and each\n             By name solicited to give him way.[100]\n\nStill much more must we entreat them not to represent the gods as\nbewailing, and saying,\n\n                 Ah me, forlorn! ah me, parent in vain\n                 Of an illustrious birth.[101]\n\nAnd if they are not thus to introduce the gods, far less should they\ndare thus unbecomingly to represent the greatest of those gods:\n\n              Ah! I behold a warrior dear to me,\n              Around the walls of Ilium driven, and grieve\n              For Hector,\u2014\n\nAnd again,\u2014\n\n               Alas, he falls! my most beloved of men,\n               Sarpedon, vanquished by Patroclus, falls:\n               So will the Fates![102]\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 98:\n\n  Il. xxiv. v. 10.\n\nFootnote 99:\n\n  Il. xviii. v. 23, 24.\n\nFootnote 100:\n\n  Il. xxii. v. 414.\n\nFootnote 101:\n\n  Il. xviii. v. 54.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. III.\u2014Supposing then, friend Adimantus, our youths should seriously\nhear such things as these, and not ridicule them as spoken\nunworthily,\u2014hardly any one would think it unworthy of himself as a man,\nor reprove himself [for it,] if he should chance either to say or do\nanything of the kind,\u2014but would rather, without shame or endurance, sing\nmany lamentations and moanings over trifling sufferings. You speak most\ntruly, replied he. But they must not,\u2014as our argument has just evinced;\nwhich we must believe, till some one persuades us by some better. They\nmust not, of course. Neither ought we, moreover, to be over fond of\nlaughing:\u2014for commonly where a man gives himself to violent laughter,\nsuch a disposition requires a violent change. I think so, said he.\nNeither, if any one should represent worthy men as overcome by laughter,\nshould we allow it, much less if [he thus represent] the gods. Much,\nindeed, said he. Neither, then, ought we to receive such statements as\nthese of Homer concerning the gods:\u2014\n\n              Heaven rang with laughter inextinguishable\u2014\n              Peal after peal, such pleasure all conceived\n              At sight of Vulcan in his new employ.[103]\n\nThis cannot be admitted, according to your reasoning. If you please to\ncall it my reasoning, said he,\u2014this, indeed, cannot be admitted. Besides\nthis, however, the truth must be held of great importance:\u2014for if we\njust now argued rightly,[104] and falsehood be really of no service to\nthe gods, but useful to men, in the form of a drug, it is plain that\nsuch a thing should be trusted only to physicians, but not meddled with\nby private persons. Quite plain, said he. To the governors of the state,\nthen, if to any, it especially belongs to speak falsely either about\nenemies or citizens, for the good of the state; whereas, for all the\nrest, they must venture on no such a thing. For a private person,\nmoreover, to speak falsely against such governors, we shall deem the\nsame and even a greater offence, than for a patient not to speak the\ntruth to his physician, or for one who is learning his exercises to his\ngymnastic master about the ailments of his body,\u2014or for one not to tell\nthe pilot the real state of what concerns the ship and sailors, how\nhimself and the other sailors are performing their duty. Most true, said\nhe. If, however, he should detect any other citizen in a falsehood\u2014\n\n              ... of those, who by profession serve\n              The public, prophet, healer of disease,\n              Or him who makes the shafts of spears,[105]\n\nhe will punish him; as introducing a practice subversive and destructive\nof the city, as well as of a ship. If, at least, it is on speech that\nactions are completed.[106] But what;\u2014will our youths have no need of\ntemperance? Certainly. And are not such as these in general the\nprincipal parts of temperance; namely, obedience to governors,\u2014and also,\nthat the governors themselves be temperate in drinking, feasting, and\npleasures of love? I am quite of that opinion. And we shall say, I\nbelieve, that such views are just,\u2014just as in Homer Diomedes says:\n\n             Sit thou in silence, and obey my speech,[107]\u2014\n\nand what is in connexion therewith,\u2014thus:\n\n             So moved the Greeks successive, ev\u2019ry chief\n             His loud command proclaiming, while the rest,\n             As voice in all those thousands none had been,\n             Heard mute....[108]\n\nand so on. Well spoken. But what of such as these?\u2014\n\n            Oh! charged with wine, in steadfastness of face.\n            Dog unabash\u2019d, and yet at heart a deer,[109]\u2014\n\nand as respects what follows, and whatever other childish effusions are\nuttered in prose or verse by private individuals, are they well\n[pronounced]? No, not well:\u2014for, methinks, even as respects temperance,\nsuch [discourses] are not fit for the young to hear; and supposing they\ndo afford some other sort of pleasure, it is no wonder:\u2014but what is your\nnotion of the matter? The same as your own, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 102:\n\n  Il. xxii. v. 168.\n\nFootnote 103:\n\n  Namely as cupbearer to the gods.\u2014Il. i. v. 599.\n\nFootnote 104:\n\n  Comp. B. ii. ch. 21.\n\nFootnote 105:\n\n  Hom. Od. xvii. v. 383.\n\nFootnote 106:\n\n  Gr. \u1f10\u03ac\u03bd\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u1f10\u03c0\u03af \u03b3\u03b5 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u1ff3 \u1f14\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u1fc6\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9.\n\nFootnote 107:\n\n  Il. iv. v. 412.\n\nFootnote 108:\n\n  Il. iv. v. 431.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. IV.\u2014What?\u2014To make the wisest man say, that it appears to him\nsupremely beautiful, when\n\n         ... the steaming table\u2019s spread\n         With plenteous viands, while the cups, with wine\n         From brimming beakers fill\u2019d, pass brisk around,[110]\u2014\n\ndoes it seem proper to you that a youth should hear, in order to obtain\na command over himself;\u2014or yet this:\u2014\n\n             ... most miserable it is,\n             To die of famine and have adverse fate;[111]\u2014\n\nor that Zeus, through desire for the pleasures of love, could easily\nforget all that in solitary watching he had revolved in his mind, while\nother gods and men were asleep, and could be so struck on seeing Hera,\nas not even to care to enter his chamber, but to desire connexion with\nher on the very spot, to embrace her on the ground, and at the same time\nto declare that he was possessed with a desire, exceeding even what he\nfelt on their first acquaintance,\n\n               ... Hidden from their parents dear;[112]\u2014\n\nnor yet how Ares and Aphrodite were bound by Heph\u00e6stus,[113] and other\nsuch things? No, by Zeus, said he; these seem quite unfit. But if, said\nI, any instances of self-denial in all matters are both to be spoken of\nand practised by men of eminence, these should be held up for a\nspectacle and celebrated in verse,\u2014such as this:[114]\u2014\n\n              ... Smiting on his breast, thus he reproved\n              The mutinous inhabitant within.[115]\n\nJust so, by all means, said he. Of course, then, we cannot by any means\nallow men to receive bribes, or be covetous. By no means. Neither must\nwe sing to them, that\n\n             Gifts gain the gods and venerable kings;[116]\u2014\n\nneither can we commend Ph\u0153nix, the tutor of Achilles, as if he spoke\ncorrectly, when counselling him to accept of presents and assist the\nGreeks, but, without presents, not to desist from his wrath:[117]\u2014nor\nagain, should we commend Achilles himself, or approve of his being so\ncovetous as to receive presents from Agamemnon, and, likewise for giving\nup the dead body of Hector, on receiving a ransom, when otherwise he\nwould not do so. Of course it is not right, said he, to commend such\nconduct as this. I am loath, said I, for Homer\u2019s sake, to say, that it\nis not allowable to allege these things against Achilles, or to believe\nthem, when said by others; nor, again, that he spoke thus to Apollo:\u2014\n\n                       Oh! of all the powers above,\n           To me most adverse, archer of the skies!\n           Thou hast beguiled me, leading me away ...\n           And hast defrauded me of great renown.\n           Ah! had I power, I would requite thee well,[118]\u2014\n\nand how he disobeyed the river [Xanthus,] though a divinity, and was\nready to fight; and again, how he says to that other river, Spercheius,\nwith his sacred locks,\n\n               Thy lock to great Patroclus I could give,\n               Who now is dead...[119]\n\nNow, that he actually did this, we cannot believe. And again, the\ndragging of Hector round the tomb of Patroclus, and the murder of the\ncaptives at his funeral pile,\u2014we shall deny that all this is spoken\ntruly; nor shall we suffer our people to believe, that Achilles, the son\nof a goddess, and of Peleus, the most wise of men, and the third from\nJupiter, educated also by that sage Chiron, could be of so disordered a\nconstitution as to have within him two positively opposite moral\nailments,\u2014illiberality and covetousness, and moreover a contempt both of\ngods and men. You say right, replied he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 109:\n\n  Il. i. v. 225.\n\nFootnote 110:\n\n  Od. ix. v. 8.\n\nFootnote 111:\n\n  Od. xi. v. 342.\n\nFootnote 112:\n\n  Il. xiv. v. 291.\n\nFootnote 113:\n\n  Od. viii. v. 266.\n\nFootnote 114:\n\n  \u03b8\u03b5\u03b1\u03c4\u03ad\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03ad\u03bf\u03bd, which we have somewhat paraphrastically\n  rendered, in order to give the full meaning of the words.\n\nFootnote 115:\n\n  Od. xx. v. 17.\n\nFootnote 116:\n\n  This verse is not to be found in any of Homer\u2019s writings; and Suidas\n  ascribes it to Hesiod. Euripides has a similar sentiment, Med. v. 934.\n\nFootnote 117:\n\n  Comp. Il. xix. v. 278, &c. with Il. xxiv. v. 175, &c.\n\nFootnote 118:\n\n  Il. xxii. v. 15, 16.\n\nFootnote 119:\n\n  Il. xxiii. v. 151.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. V.\u2014Let us not then believe these things, said I, nor yet suffer\nany to say, that Theseus, son of Poseidon, and Pirithous, son of Zeus,\nwere impelled to such dire abductions; nor that any other son of a\ndeity, or hero either, would dare to commit horrible and impious deeds,\nsuch as now they falsely ascribe to them; but let us compel the poets to\nsay, either that the actions do not belong to these persons, or that\nthese persons are not the children of gods,\u2014but not to say both, nor yet\ntry to persuade our youth that the gods are the origin of evil, and\nheroes no better than men:\u2014for just as we said before, these\n[statements] are neither holy nor true; inasmuch as we have somewhere or\nother shown, that evils cannot possibly proceed from the gods. Of course\nnot. But, besides this, they are hurtful to the hearers also; for every\none will pardon his own depravity, through the persuasion that even the\nnear relatives of the gods, near to Zeus himself, do, and have done,\nthings of a similar nature, of whom it has been written,\u2014\n\n                 They, on the top of Ida, have uprear\u2019d\n                 To parent Jupiter an altar;\u2014\n\nAnd,\n\n             Whose blood derived from gods is not extinct.\n\nWherefore, we should suppress all such fables, lest they create in our\nyouth a great readiness for committing wickedness. We should so, of\ncourse, replied he. What other species of argument, then, said I,\u2014since\nwe are speaking about arguments,\u2014have we still remaining, which ought,\nor ought not, to be maintained?\u2014For in what manner we ought to speak of\nthe gods we have already mentioned, and likewise of demons and heroes,\nand those too in Hades. Certainly. Does it not remain, then, to speak\nconcerning men? Clearly so. Still it is impossible for us, my friend, to\nregulate this at present. How? Because we shall say, I think, that the\npoets and orators speak amiss in most important respects concerning\nmankind, as [for instance,] that many are unjust, and yet happy, while\nthe just are miserable; and that injustice is profitable, if it escape\nobservation, while justice is another\u2019s gain indeed, but injury to one\u2019s\nself; such things, as these, we must forbid them to say, but yet bid\nthem sing and compose in fable the very contrary. Do you not think so? I\nknow it well, said he. If then you acknowledge that I am right, shall I\nconclude that you have admitted what all along we were seeking for? You\njudge right, said he. Shall we not allow, then, that such arguments may\nbe stated about men, whenever we shall have discovered the nature of\njustice,\u2014and how it is naturally profitable for the just man to be such,\nwhether he seem so or not? Most true, replied he.\n\nCHAP. VI.\u2014Concerning the arguments, then, let what we have said suffice,\nand now we should consider, methinks, the manner of stating them; and\nthen we shall have completely considered, both what is to be spoken, and\nthe manner how. Adimantus here said;\u2014What you now say, I do not\nunderstand. Nevertheless, replied I, it needs you should.\u2014Perhaps then\nyou will understand it better in this way:\u2014is not everything told by the\nmythologists or poets, a narrative of the past, present, or future?[120]\nOf course, replied he. And do not they execute it, either in simple\nnarrative, or through the medium of imitation, or both? This too,\nreplied he, I yet require to understand more plainly. I appear, said I,\nto be a ridiculous and dull instructor:\u2014like those, then, who are unable\nto speak, I will endeavour to explain my meaning,\u2014not the whole\ngenerally, but by a particular case. And tell me,\u2014are you acquainted\nwith the opening of the Iliad, where the poet says, Chryses entreated\nAgamemnon to ransom his daughter; but that he was angry, whereupon the\nformer, since he did not obtain his request, besought the god, against\nthe Greeks? I know it. You know, then, that down to these verses,\u2014\n\n              His supplication was at large to all\n              The host of Greece; but most of all to two,\n              The sons of Atreus, highest in command,\u2014\n\nthe poet himself speaks, and does not attempt to divert our attention\nelsewhere, as if any other person were speaking except himself; but as\nto what he says after this, he speaks as though he himself were Chryses,\nand tries all he can to make us think that the speaker is not Homer, but\nthe priest, an old man:\u2014and thus he has composed nearly all the rest of\nthe narrative of what happened at Troy, and in Ithaca, and the\nadventures throughout the Odyssey. Yes, certainly, replied he. Is it not\nnarrative, then, when he recites the several speeches, and also when [he\nrecites] what intervenes between the speeches? Of course. But when he\nspeaks in the person of another, do we not say, that then he assimilates\nhis speech as much as possible to each person whom he introduces as\nspeaking? We will grant it;\u2014why not? And is not [a poet\u2019s] assimilation\nof himself to another, either in voice or figure, an imitation of that\nperson to whom he assimilates himself? Of course. In such a case as\nthis, then, it seems, both he and the other poets execute their\nnarrative by means of imitation? Certainly. But if the poet were not to\nconceal himself at all, his whole action and narrative would be without\nimitation.\u2014That you may not say, however, that you do not again\nunderstand how this can be, I will tell you.\u2014If, for instance, in\nrelating how Chryses came with his daughter\u2019s ransom, beseeching the\nGreeks, but chiefly the kings, Homer had subsequently spoken, not in the\ncharacter of Chryses, but still as Homer, you know it would not be\nimitation, but only simple narrative:\u2014and it would have been somehow\nthus (I shall speak without metre, for I am no poet):\u2014\u201cThe priest came\nand prayed, that the gods would allow them to take Troy, and return in\nsafety; and begged them also to restore him his daughter, and accept the\npresents, out of respect to the god. When he had said this, all the rest\nshowed respect, and consented; but Agamemnon became enraged, and charged\nhim to depart instantly, and not return, lest his sceptre and the\ngarlands of the god should not avail him, and added also, that, before\nhis daughter should be ransomed she should grow old with him in Argos;\nand he ordered him to be gone, and not irritate him, if he would get\nhome in safety. The old man on hearing this was terrified and went away\nin silence. And after his retiring from the camp he offered numerous\nprayers to Apollo, calling on the god by his various names, and\nreminding as well as imploring him, that, if ever, either in the\nbuilding of temples, or the offering of sacrifices, he had made any\nacceptable presents,\u2014for the sake of these then, he besought him, to\navenge with his shafts on the Greeks the tears [that had been shed] by\nhimself.\u201d[121]\u2014Thus far, said I, friend, the narrative is simple,\nwithout imitation. I understand, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 120:\n\n  This threefold distinction of poetry is mentioned likewise by\n  Aristotle; Poet. ch. iii. \u00a7 2.\n\nFootnote 121:\n\n  The Greek form\u2014\u03c4\u1f70 \u1f03 \u03b4\u03ac\u03ba\u03c1\u03c5\u03b1 is unquestionably archaic; but, as\n  Stallbaum well observes, was still extant among the Athenians in\n  colloquial language.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. VII.\u2014Understand, then, said I, that the opposite of this happens,\nwhen one takes out the poet\u2019s words between the speeches, and leaves\nonly the dialogue. This too, said he, I understand, that something like\nthis takes place with tragedies. You have apprehended my meaning quite\ncorrectly, said I. And methinks, I can now make plain to you what before\nI could not,\u2014that in poetry, and all fabulous writing, one species of it\nis wholly imitative, as, for instance (just as you say), tragedy and\ncomedy; another species employs the narration of the poet himself, (you\nwill find this chiefly in dithyrambics;) and another again by both, as\nin epic poetry, and many other kinds besides:\u2014if you understand me.\nAye,\u2014I now understand, replied he, what you meant before. Remember, too,\nthat we were before saying, that it had already been settled what were\nto be the subjects of speech, but it yet remained to be considered how\nthey should be spoken. I do remember. This then, is the very thing that\nI was saying,\u2014namely, that we ought to have agreed, whether we will\nallow the poets to make us narratives wholly through the medium of\nimitation, or partly through imitation, partly not so,\u2014and, of what kind\nin each,\u2014or lastly whether they are not to employ imitation at all. I\nguess, said he, you are inquiring, whether we are to receive tragedy and\ncomedy into our state, or not. Perhaps so, said I, and something more\ntoo,\u2014for I as yet know not; but wherever our reason, wind-like, carries\nus, there must we go. You say well, said he. Let us then consider,\nAdimantus, whether our guardians ought to be practised imitators or\nnot:\u2014does not this follow, from what has been above stated, that each\nmay exercise one business well, but many, not,\u2014and should he attempt it,\nthat, in grasping at many things, he will fail in all, and excel,\nperhaps, in none?[122] Of course he will. Well then, does not the same\nreasoning apply to imitation, that the same man cannot so well imitate\nmany things as one? Of course he cannot. In that case he can perform\nscarcely any of the more eminent employments, and at the same time\nimitate many things, and be an apt imitator,\u2014since the same persons\ncannot well execute two different sorts of imitations, apparently\nsimilar to each other; as, for instance, comedy and tragedy:\u2014and as for\nthat, did you not, just now, call both of these imitations? I did; and\nyou are right in saying, that the same persons cannot succeed [in both].\nNor can they, at the same time, be rhapsodists and actors? True. Nor can\nthe same persons be actors in comedies and in tragedies:\u2014and all these\nare imitations, are they not? Aye,\u2014surely. The genius of man, Adimantus,\nseems to have been cut up even into a still greater number of minute\nparticles,\u2014so much so, indeed,[123] that it cannot properly imitate many\nthings, or perform [in earnest] those very things, of which even the\nimitations are the resemblances. Most true, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 122:\n\n  Gr. \u1f65\u03c3\u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f10\u03bb\u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2.\n\nFootnote 123:\n\n  Gr. \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u03cc\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03ba\u03b5\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03af\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. VIII.\u2014If we are to hold to our first reasoning, therefore, that\nour guardians, though unoccupied in any productive art whatever, ought\nto be the most skilful labourers for the liberty of the state, and to\nmind nothing but what refers thereto, it were surely proper that they\nshould neither perform nor imitate anything else,\u2014but, should they\nimitate at all, to imitate from their childhood upwards just what\ncorrespond with these,\u2014brave, temperate, pious, generous-hearted men,\nand the like;\u2014but neither to perform, nor desire to imitate what is\nilliberal or base, lest from the very imitation they come to experience\nthe positive reality.[124] Have you not also observed, that imitations,\nif from earliest youth onwards they be long continued, become\nestablished in the manners and natural temper, both as to body and\nvoice, and intellect too? Very much so, replied he. Surely we are not to\nallow those, said I, for whom we profess to be anxious, and who ought to\nbe good men, to imitate a woman either young or old, whether reviling\nher husband, or contending against the gods, and speaking boastingly\nfrom the idea of her own happiness;\u2014neither should we imitate her in her\nmisfortunes, sorrows, and lamentations, when sick, or in love, or in the\nthroes of child-birth; we shall be far from allowing this. By all means,\nreplied he. Nor to imitate male or female servants in doing servants\u2019\nduties? Nor this either. Nor yet, it seems, depraved men, dastards, and\nthose who do the contrary of what has been just mentioned, who revile\nand rail at one another; and speak abominable things, whether drunk or\nsober, or [do] any other misdeeds, such as this class of persons are\nguilty of, either in words or actions, either as respects themselves or\nothers?\u2014I think too, that they should not even accustom themselves to\nresemble madmen, in words or actions, for one may know both the mad and\nwicked, whether men or women;\u2014yet we must not either do or imitate any\none of their actions. Most true, said he. But what, said I;\u2014are braziers\nor other craftsmen, or such as row vessels, or pilot the sailors, or any\nothers connected therewith to be imitated? How can it be so, said he, by\nthose at least who are not allowed to give their mind up to those\npursuits? But what,\u2014are they to imitate horses neighing, or bulls\nlowing, or rivers murmuring, or the sea roaring, or thunder, and all\nsuch like things? No surely, said he:\u2014we have forbidden them either to\nget mad, or resemble madmen. If then I understand what you mean, replied\nI, there is a sort of speech and narrative in which the truly good and\nworthy man expresses himself, when required to say anything,\u2014and another\nagain quite dissimilar, to which a person quite oppositely born and bred\nalways adheres, and in which [he always] expresses himself. But what\nsorts are they? asked he. That man, said I, seems a worthy man, who on\ncoming in his narrative to any speech or action of a good man, will\nwillingly tell it, as if he were himself the man, and not be ashamed of\nsuch an imitation,\u2014the more especially, if he be imitating a good man\nacting cautiously and sensibly, one who is seldom and but little led\nastray through ailments, or love, or drink, or any other mishap. But\nwhen there arises [in his narrative] anything unworthy of himself, he\nwill not be in any hurry to assimilate himself to one that is worse,\nexcept it be for a short time when he is doing some good; and besides,\nhe will be ashamed of it, both as being unpractised in the imitation of\nsuch characters, and also, as unwilling to mould himself, and stand\namong the models of baser men, whom all the while he despises in his\nheart, [bearing with them] only for mere amusement. Probably, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 124:\n\n  Gr. \u1f35\u03bd\u03b1 \u03bc\u1f74 \u1f10\u03ba \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b9\u03bc\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b1\u03cd\u03c3\u03c9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. IX.\u2014Will he employ a narrative such as that we not long since\ndescribed in the case of Homer\u2019s poems; and will his language partake\nboth of imitation and simple narrative, but have only a small portion of\nimitation inserted in a great quantity [of plain narrative?]\u2014Do you\nthink I speak to the purpose or not? Yes, certainly, replied he; that\nmust needs be the type of such an orator. In that case, said I, will not\nsuch a man, the more he is depraved, the more readily narrate any matter\nwhatever, thinking nothing unworthy of him,\u2014so much so, indeed, that he\nwill undertake to imitate everything zealously and in public, and such\nespecially as we just mentioned, thunderings and noises of winds and\ntempests, and of axles and wheels, and of trumpets, pipes, whistles, and\nsounds of all kinds of instruments, and the cries of dogs likewise, and\nsheep, and birds?\u2014and of course the whole expression of this is to be by\nimitation, both in voice and gestures, partaking but slightly of\nnarrative. This too, said he, is a matter of course. These, said I, are\nwhat I termed the two kinds of diction. Yes, they are, replied he. Has\nnot one of the two, then, very trifling variations; and to give the\ndiction a becoming harmony and rhythm, he who would speak correctly must\nalways speak in the same style, in one harmony,\u2014for the variations are\nbut trifling,\u2014and of course in a rhythm closely corresponding?[125] It\nis so, clearly, replied he. But as to the other kind, does it not\nrequire the contrary,\u2014all kinds of harmonies, and all kinds of rhythms,\nif, indeed, it is to be naturally expressed, on account of its having\nall sorts and shades of variation? That is precisely the case. Do not,\nthen, all the poets, and writers of narrative generally,[126] use one or\nother of these models of diction, or a blending of the other two? They\nmust, replied he. What are we to do then, said I:\u2014shall we admit into\nour state all of these [models,] or only one of the unmixed, or the one\ncompounded? If my opinion, replied he, is to prevail, [you should\nemploy] that uncompounded one, which imitates only what is worthy. But\nsurely, Adimantus, the mixed is at least pleasant:\u2014the most pleasant of\nall, both to children and pedagogues, is the opposite of what you\nchoose, and it is so to the crowd likewise. Yes, it is the most\npleasant. But probably, said I, you will not deem it suited to our civil\nestablishment, because with us no man can be engaged in two or more\noccupations, but each individual is employed in one only? Of course, it\nis not fit. Shall we not find then, that in such a state alone, a\nshoemaker is only a shoemaker, and not a pilot as well as a shoemaker;\nand that the husbandman is only a husbandman, and not a judge as well as\na husbandman; and that the soldier is a soldier, and not a money-maker\nas well; and so with the rest? True, replied he. With respect to the man\nthen, who is enabled by his talents to become everything and imitate\neverything, if that person were to come into our state and wish to show\nus his poems, we should respect him as a pious, wonderful, and pleasant\nperson, but would say that we have no such person in our state, nor\ncould such be allowed; and then we should send him to some other state,\npouring oil on his head, and crowning him with a woollen chaplet,[127]\nwhile we ourselves would call in, to our advantage, a more austere and\nless pleasing poet and mythologist, to imitate for us the diction of\nwhat is becoming, and say whatever he says, in accordance with those\nmodels which we regularly set forth on first undertaking the education\nof our soldiers. So we should do, replied he, if it depended on us. Now\nthen, friend, it seems that we have thoroughly discussed that part of\nmusic which concerns oratory and fable; for what is to be spoken, and\nhow spoken, we have already considered. I think so too, observed he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 125:\n\n  Gr. \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b4\u1f74 \u1f10\u03bd \u1fe5\u03c5\u03b8\u03bc\u1ff7 \u1f61\u03c3\u03b1\u03cd\u03c4\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03c3\u03af\u1ff3 \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03af.\n\nFootnote 126:\n\n  Gr. \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bf\u1f35 \u03c4\u03b9 \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2.\n\nFootnote 127:\n\n  Gr. \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c0\u03ad\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u1f02\u03bd \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b9\u03bd \u03bc\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b5\u03c6\u03b1\u03bb\u1fc6\u03c2\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03ad\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f10\u03c1\u03af\u1ff3 \u03c3\u03c4\u03ad\u03c8\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2. This passage with all its beauty is\n  somewhat obscure. It plainly refers to that kind of poet, who was used\n  to treat all kinds of characters and subjects;\u2014and yet the ancient\n  writers evidently understood it, as referring to Homer. Comp. Dion.\n  Halic. Epist. de Plat. vol. vi. d. 756:\u2014\u1f26\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03a0\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70\u03c2\n  \u1f00\u03c1\u03b5\u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c7\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u1fc3 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03cc\u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u00b7 \u1f10\u03b4\u03ae\u03bb\u03c9\u03c3\u03b5 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf \u03bc\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2\n  \u1f4d\u03bc\u03b7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03b6\u03b7\u03bb\u03bf\u03c4\u03c5\u03c0\u03af\u03b1\u03c2, \u1f43\u03bd \u1f10\u03ba \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03c5\u03b1\u03b6\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2 \u1f51\u03c0\u2019 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2\n  \u1f10\u03ba\u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9, \u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03ce\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03cd\u03c1\u1ff3 \u03c7\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2. So also Aristides, Orat. Plat.\n  111; vol. ii. p. 326:\u2014\u1f4d\u03bc\u03b7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03bc\u03cd\u03c1\u1ff3 \u03c7\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f10\u03ba\u03c0\u03ad\u03bc\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c7\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u1f74\u03bd\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b8\u03b5\u03af\u03c2. Josephus, Minucius Felix, Theodoret, and Chrysostom bear\n  similar testimony to its meaning.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. X.\u2014Are we not next to speak, said I, about the style of song and\nmelody?[128] Clearly so. Cannot one already find out, then, what we\nought to say about these things, and of what kind they should be, if we\nwould be consistent with what we have above said? Here Glaucon, smiling,\nsaid,\u2014I seem, indeed, Socrates, to be a stranger to the whole business,\nfor I cannot at present conceive what we ought to say, though I have\nsome inkling. You can, surely, said I, at any rate, fully state this\nmuch,\u2014that melody has three constituents,\u2014sentiment, harmony, and\nrhythm?[129] Yes, replied he, this much, at any rate. And as concerns\nthe sentiment,\u2014that differs in nothing from the sentiment which is not\nsung, inasmuch as it ought to be performed on the same models, as we\njust said, and after the same fashion. True, said he. Surely, then, the\nharmony and rhythm should correspond with the sentiment? Of course. But\nyet we said there was no need for wailings and lamentations in written\ncompositions? None, certainly. Which then are the querulous\nharmonies?[130] Tell me,\u2014for you are a musician. The mixed Lydian,[131]\nreplied he, and the sharp Lydian, and some others of this kind. Are not\nthese, then, said I, to be rejected, as being useless even to\nwell-conducted women, not to speak of men? Certainly. Drunkenness,\nmoreover, is highly unbecoming in our guardians, as well as effeminacy\nand idleness? Of course. Which then are the effeminate and convivial\nharmonies? The Ionic, replied he, and the Lydian, which are called\nrelaxing. Can you use these, my friend, for military men? By no means,\nreplied he; but it seems you have yet the Doric remaining, and the\nPhrygian. I am not learned, said I, in harmonies; but let us put out of\nthe question that harmony, which would fitly imitate the voice and\naccents of a brave man, engaged in military action, and every sort of\nrough adventure, and, should he fail of success, rushing on wounds or\ndeath, or any other distress, all the while regularly and resolutely\nbattling with fortune:\u2014let us put out of the question, also, that kind\nof harmony which suits what is peaceable, where there is no violence,\nbut everything is voluntary, where a man either persuades or beseeches\nany one, about anything,\u2014either God by prayer, or man by instruction and\nadmonition; or, on the other hand, where one submits to another\u2019s\nentreaties, instructions, or persuasion, and in all these points acts in\naccordance with intellect, and does not behave haughtily, but demeans\nhimself soberly and moderately, gladly embracing whatever may\nhappen:\u2014put out of the question, too, these two harmonies, the vehement\nand the voluntary,[132] which so capitally imitate the voice both of the\nunfortunate and fortunate,\u2014the moderate and brave. Aye, you are anxious,\nreplied he, to leave no others but those I now mentioned. We shall have\nno need, then, said I, in our songs and melodies, for many strings or\ninstruments expressive of all the harmonies. We shall not, it seems,\nreplied he. We are not to maintain, then, such craftsmen, as make harps\nand spinets, and instruments of many strings that produce a variety of\nharmony. We are not, it seems. But what,\u2014will you admit into your city\nflute-makers or flute-players? for, are not those instruments which\nconsist of the greatest number of strings,[133] and those that produce\nall kinds of harmony, imitations of the flute? Plainly so, replied he.\nThere are still left you, then, said I, the lyre and the harp, as useful\nfor your city; and, as respects the fields again, a reed or so for the\nshepherds? This is quite reasonable, said he. We are doing nothing new\nthen, replied I, in preferring Apollo and Apollo\u2019s instruments, to\nMarsyas[134] and his instruments. Truly not, it seems, replied he. By\nthe dog, too, said I, we have been once more unconsciously cleansing our\ncity, which, we just now said, had become luxurious. Aye; we were wise\nto do so, replied he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 128:\n\n  It has been rightly stated by Ger. Voss. in his Institut. Poet. ii.\n  ch. ix. \u00a7 2, that the word \u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 is equivalent to \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f80\u03b4\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2.\n  Comp. also Plato de Legg. ii. p. 655 a.\n\nFootnote 129:\n\n  The distinction between harmony and rhythm is well explained in the\n  Laws, ii. p. 655 a:\u2014\u03c4\u1fc7 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b9\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03ac\u03be\u03b5\u03b9 \u1fe5\u03c5\u03b8\u03bc\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f44\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u00b7 \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03b4\u2019 \u03b1\u1f56\n  \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c6\u03c9\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c2, \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4\u03b5 \u1f40\u03be\u03ad\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f05\u03bc\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b2\u03b1\u03c1\u03ad\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c5\u03ba\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03bd\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd, \u1f01\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f44\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\n  \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03b1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03cd\u03bf\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf.\n\nFootnote 130:\n\n  On the power and character of the several kinds of melody, comp.\n  Heraclides Ponticus in Athen\u00e6us, xiv. p. 624 d, and Aristotle\u2019s Polit.\n  viii. ch. 5-7. Boeckh also in his work on the metres of Pindar (vol.\n  i. pt. 2), has learnedly discussed the variety of ancient Greek\n  melodies.\n\nFootnote 131:\n\n  Aristoxenus quoted by Plutarch (de Music\u00e2, p. 1136 d), thus explains\n  the word \u03bc\u03b9\u03be\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03b4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03af:\u2014\u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f21 \u03bc\u03b9\u03be\u03bf\u03bb\u03cd\u03b4\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae \u03c4\u03af\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9,\n  \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f01\u03c1\u03bc\u03cc\u03b6\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1. \u1f08\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03cc\u03be\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u03ad \u03c6\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9 \u03a3\u03b1\u03c0\u03c6\u1f7c \u03c0\u03c1\u03ce\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03b5\u1f55\u03c1\u03b1\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd\n  \u03bc\u03b9\u03be\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03b4\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03af, \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u2019 \u1f27\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u1ff3\u03b4\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b1\u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd.\n\nFootnote 132:\n\n  A harmony is here termed \u03b2\u03af\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, which (to use the words in the Laws,\n  viii. 814 e):\u2014\u1f10\u03bd \u03b2\u03b9\u03b1\u03af\u1ff3 \u1f10\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u1fb3 \u03c0\u03c1\u03b5\u03c0\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f02\u03bd \u03bc\u03b9\u03bc\u03ae\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf \u03c6\u03b8\u03cc\u03b3\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n  \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1\u03c2, &c.;\u2014and that is called \u1f11\u03ba\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, which becomes a man who\n  is engaged \u1f10\u03bd \u1f11\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u1ff3 \u03c0\u03c1\u03ac\u03be\u03b5\u03b9.\n\nFootnote 133:\n\n  All musical instruments are here rejected, which, from having many\n  chords, have the power of soothing the ear with a variety of\n  harmonies, and yet do not improve the mind, but rather render it\n  effeminate and fill it with sensual desires. Among these is classed\n  the lyre,\u2014which is rejected also by Pythagoras, who (according to\n  Iamblichus) \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03bb\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u1f51\u03c0\u03b5\u03bb\u03ac\u03bc\u03b2\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03bd \u1f51\u03b2\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b7\u03b3\u03c5\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n  \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03bc\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03b8\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f26\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd. See also Plato\u2019s Gorgias, p. 501 e,\n  where he conceives the art of flute-playing\u2014\u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f21\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u1f74\u03bd \u1f21\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bd \u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd\n  \u03b4\u03b9\u03ce\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd, \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf \u03b4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd.\n\nFootnote 134:\n\n  On the contest of Marsyas with Apollo, comp. Herodot. vii. 26, and\n  Diodor. Sic. iii. p. 192.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XI.\u2014Come then, said I, and let us cleanse the remainder; for what\nconcerns rhythm will follow after harmonies,\u2014namely, that our citizens\npursue not ever-varying rhythms having a variety of cadences, but\nobserve what are the rhythms of an orderly and manly life; and observing\nthese, should compel the time and the melody to subserve the sentiment,\nand not the sentiment to subserve the time and melody.\u2014Now, what these\nrhythms are, it is your business to tell, as you did with the harmonies.\nNay, by Zeus, replied he, I cannot tell:\u2014so far, indeed, as that there\nare three forms from which all measures are composed, just as there are\nfour primitive sounds, from which all harmony is derived, this I can say\nfrom observation; but what kind of imitations they are, and of what kind\nof life, I am not able to tell. These things, however, said I, with\nDamon\u2019s[135] aid we will consider,\u2014what measures suit illiberality and\ninsolence, or madness and any other ill disposition,\u2014and what rhythms\nalso must be left for their opposites. And I have a confused\nrecollection of having heard him call a certain [measure] enoplion,\nwhich was compound, another a dactyl, and a third an heroic\nmeasure,\u2014embellishing them I know not how,\u2014making them equal above and\nbelow, in breadth and length: and methinks he called one an iambus, and\nanother a trochee, and regulated also the long and short measures. In\nsome of these, too, I fancy, he both blamed and praised the measure of\nthe foot, no less than the numbers themselves, or something compounded\nof both. As for these matters, however, as I said, let them be thrown on\nDamon: for to define them distinctly, indeed, would require no small\ndiscourse: do not you think so? No small one, truly. But as for this\npoint,\u2014whether the propriety or impropriety is dependent on the good or\nill rhythm,\u2014can you at all discern that? Of course. Moreover, with\nrespect to good or ill rhythm, the one depends on elegant expression,\nand conforms to it, while the other is the reverse; and, in the same\nway, as to the harmonious and discordant, the rhythm and harmony being\nsubservient to the sentiment, as we just said, and not the sentiment to\nthe former. These, indeed, said he, should subserve the sentiment. And\nwhat, said I, as to the manner of expression, and as to the sentiment\nitself, must it not be suited to the temper of the soul? Of course. And\nall the rest to the expression? Yes. Well then, fine expression, fine\nharmony, perfect propriety, and perfect rhythm, are dependent on good\ndisposition,\u2014not that dulness which in flattering language we call good\ntemper, but the intellect itself, adorned with excellent and amiable\nmoral feelings? Surely, altogether so, replied he. Must not all these\nthen be always pursued by the youth, if they would perform their duties?\nThey should, indeed, be so pursued. Painting, indeed, is, somehow, full\nof these things, and so is every other such kind of craftsmanship; and\nweaving, too, is full thereof, and embroidery and architecture, and all\ncraftship of all kinds of implements; and yet further, the nature of\nanimal bodies and of all plants,\u2014for in all these is found either\npropriety or impropriety: and moreover, impropriety, want of rhythm, and\nwant of harmony, are close akin to bad language and depraved\nmanners,\u2014their opposites being likewise related, and imitations of\ndiscretion and good morals. Entirely so, replied he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 135:\n\n  A celebrated musician who instructed Pericles in that art. Comp. Rep.\n  iv. ch. 3, p. 424 c. See also Plutarch, Life of Pericles, ch. 4.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XII.\u2014Must we, then, merely superintend the poets, and oblige them\nto present in their poems the idea of good morals, or else not write at\nall with us;\u2014or should we superintend all other craftsmen also, and\nrestrain this immoral, undisciplined, illiberal, indecent style, so as\nnot to exhibit it either in the representation of animals, or in\nbuildings, or in any other craftsmanship,\u2014so that he who cannot do this\nmay not be suffered to work with us?\u2014[This we must do,] for fear that\nour guardians, being trained by images of evil, as in bad pasture-land,\nby every day plucking and eating many different things, should establish\nimperceptibly, by little and little, some mighty evil in their soul;\u2014but\nrather should we seek for such craftsmen, as, by the help of a good\nnatural genius, can investigate the nature of the beautiful and\nbecoming,\u2014in order that our youths, dwelling, as it were, in a healthful\nplace, may receive advantage on all sides, and so receive some service,\neither by sight or hearing, from fine productions, just as a breeze\nbrings health from healthy places, and imperceptibly lead them from\nchildhood onwards to resemblance, friendship, and harmony with right\nreason. Thus indeed, said he, they would be brought up in the best\npossible manner. In this case, then, Glaucon, said I;\u2014is not musical\ntraining of the utmost importance, inasmuch as rhythm and harmony enter\nlargely into the inward part of the soul, and most powerfully affect it,\nat the same time introducing decorum, and rendering every one becoming,\nif properly trained, and, if not so, the reverse?\u2014Moreover, the man, who\nhas thus been brought up as he ought, very soon perceives whatever\nworkmanship is defective and badly executed, or what productions are of\nsuch description,\u2014and through a right feeling of disgust will praise and\nrejoice in the beautiful, and receiving it in his soul will be fostered\nthereby, and thus become a worthy, good man,\u2014while, as to all that is\nbase, he will rightly despise and hate it, even from early youth, and\nbefore he can partake of reason; and again, when reason comes, having\nbeen thus trained, he will heartily embrace it, because he clearly\nrecognises it from its intimate familiarity with himself. This appears\nto me, replied he, the very reason, why there should be musical\ntraining. Just as in learning our letters, said I, we are only then\nsufficiently instructed, when we are acquainted, on meeting them, with\nthe few elementary letters through their various combinations, and do\nnot more or less despise them as unnecessary to be learnt, but take all\npains to understand them thoroughly,\u2014as we cannot be good grammarians\ntill we do so. True. And supposing the images of letters were seen\nanywhere, either in water or in mirrors, should we not recognise them\nbefore the letters themselves?\u2014or is this a part of the same art and\nstudy? Surely. Is it then true, what I say, by the gods, that in this\ncase we shall never become musicians, neither ourselves nor the\nguardians we talk of training, unless we understand the ideas of\ntemperance, fortitude, liberality, and magnificence, and whatever are\nakin to these, are acquainted also with their contraries, so familiar to\nall, and unless, wheresoever they are, we observe both the virtues\nthemselves and the images thereof, and despise them neither in small nor\ngreat instances, but conceive them to be rather a part of the same art\nand study. It must be so, said he. Must not that person, then, said I,\nwhose lot it is to have virtuous habits in his soul, and what is\nproportioned and corresponding thereto in his appearance, partake of the\nsame impression and be a fine spectacle to any one who is able to behold\nhim? Quite so. Yet, what is most beautiful is most lovely? Of course.\nHe, then, who is most musical should surely love those men, who are most\neminent in this way; but if a man be unmusical, he will not love them?\nHe will not, replied he, if he be at all defective in his soul: still,\nif it were in his body, he would bear with it, and be willing to\nassociate with him. I understand, said I, that your favourites are or\nhave been of this kind: and I too agree to that; but tell me this,\u2014is\nthere any communion between temperance and excessive pleasure? How can\nthere? said he, for such pleasure causes a privation of intellect, not\nless than grief. But has it communion with any other virtue? Not at all.\nWhat then,\u2014has it communion with insolence and intemperance? Most\ncertainly. Can you mention a greater and more acute pleasure than what\nrespects the matters of love? I cannot, said he, nor yet one that is\nmore insane. But right love is of a nature to love the beautiful and the\ngood temperately and harmoniously? Certainly. Nothing, then, which is\nmad, or allied to intemperance, may approach real and right love. It may\nnot approach it. Nor may pleasure approach it; neither may the lover and\nthe person he loves have communion with it, if they are rightly to love\nand be beloved? No, truly, said he; they may not, Socrates. Thus, then,\nit seems, you will lay down a law in the city you are establishing, that\nthe lover shall love, converse, and associate with the objects of his\nlove, as with a son,\u2014from a virtuous motive and with his consent; and as\nto everything else, every one will so converse with him whose love he\nsolicits, as never to wish to associate for any other purpose but what\nwe have said;\u2014for otherwise he would undergo the reproach of being\nunmusical and unacquainted with the beautiful. It must be so, replied\nhe. Do not you think then, said I, that our discourse concerning music\nis now concluded?\u2014For it has now terminated where it ought,\u2014as what is\nconcerned with the art of music somehow ought to terminate in the love\nof the beautiful. I agree, said he.\n\nCHAP. XIII.\u2014After music, then, our youths must be trained in gymnastics.\nWhat then? In this likewise they must needs be accurately trained, from\ninfancy upwards through their whole life:\u2014For the matter, methinks,\nstands somehow thus;\u2014and do you also consider.\u2014I do not think that any\nsound body can, by its own virtue, render the soul good; and\ncontrariwise, that a good soul can, by its own virtue, render the body\nthe best possible: what think you? I think so too, replied he. If then,\nafter having sufficiently trained the intellect, we commit to it the\ncareful management of what concerns the body, shall we not, as we are\nonly laying down patterns, (that we may not be tedious,) act in a right\nmanner? Entirely so. We say then, that they must abstain from\ndrunkenness; for any one, rather than a guardian, might be allowed to\nget drunk, and not know where he is. It were ridiculous, said he, for a\nguardian to need a guardian himself. But what as respects meats;\u2014for\nthese men are wrestlers in most important combats;\u2014are they not? Yes.\nWould not then the bodily state of the wrestlers suit such as these?\nPerhaps so. But, said I, they are a sluggish set, and of dubious\nhealth:\u2014do you not observe, that they sleep out their life; and, that if\nthey only ever so little depart from their regular diet, such wrestlers\nbecome extensively and deeply diseased? I do observe it. But a more\nelegant kind of exercise, said I, is required for our military\nwrestlers,\u2014who, as dogs, ought to be wakeful, and see and hear most\nacutely, and endure, in their expeditions, many changes of water and\nfood, of heat and cold, that so they may not fail in their health? I\nthink so. Is not then the best kind of gymnastic exercise very like the\nsimple music which we just before described? How mean you? That the\ngymnastics should be simple and moderate, and of that kind most\nespecially which concern war. Of what kind? Even from Homer, said I, one\nmay learn such things as these: for you know, that in their military\nexpeditions, at their heroes\u2019 banquets, he never feasts them with fish,\nnot even while they were by the sea at the Hellespont, nor yet with\nboiled flesh, but only with roast meat, as what soldiers can most easily\nprocure: for, in short, one can everywhere more easily use fire, than\ncarry vessels about? Yes. Neither does Homer, I think, make any mention\nof seasonings: and this is what every wrestler knows,\u2014that the body, to\nbe in good condition, must abstain from these. They are right, said he,\nand do abstain. You do not then approve, friend, it would seem, of the\nSyracusan table, and the various Sicilian made-dishes, since you think\nthe other right? It seems I do not. You will disapprove also of a\nCorinthian girl, as a mistress, for such as would be in good bodily\ncondition? By all means. And likewise of those celebrated delicacies of\nAttic confections? Surely. As respects all such feeding and dieting, if\nwe compare it to the melody and song produced in full harmony and\nuniversal rhythm, will not the comparison hold good? Of course. And does\nnot that diversity cause insubordination in this case\u2014disease in the\nother? But simplicity in music, engenders temperance in the soul,\u2014and in\ngymnastics, bodily health. True, said he. And when insubordination and\ndiseases multiply in a city, must not many law-courts and medicine-halls\nbe opened; and will not the forensic and medicinal arts be in request,\nwhen many, even of the free, will earnestly apply to them? Of course.\n\nCHAP. XIV.\u2014Can you then adduce any greater proof of bad and shameful\ntraining in a city, than the fact of their needing physicians and\nsupreme magistrates, and these too, not only for base and low craftsmen,\nbut for those also, who boast of having been liberally educated;\u2014and\nagain, does it not seem base, and a great proof of defective education,\nto be obliged to see justice pronounced on us by others, as our masters\nand judges, and yet to have no sense of it in ourselves? This, replied\nhe, is of all things the most base. And deem you not this far more base,\nsaid I; when a person not only spends a great part of his life in courts\nof justice, as defendant or plaintiff,\u2014but, from ignorance of the\nbeautiful, thinks he is renowned for his very dexterity in doing\ninjustice, and his cleverness at turning through all sorts of windings,\nand using every kind of subterfuge, with the idea of evading\njustice,\u2014and all this for the sake of small and contemptible\nthings,\u2014ignorant how much better and more noble it were so to regulate\nlife as not to need a sleepy judge? This, replied he, is still baser\nthan the other. And to need the medicinal art, said I, not on account of\nwounds, or some incidental epidemic complaint, but through sloth, and\nsuch diet as we mentioned, being filled with rheums and wind, like\nlakes, and obliging the skilful sons of \u00c6sculapius to invent new names\nfor diseases,\u2014such as dropsies and catarrhs:\u2014do not you think this\nabominable? Truly, replied he, those are very new and strange names of\ndiseases. Such, said I, as I think, existed not in the days of\n\u00c6sculapius: and I guess so from this, that when Eurypylus was wounded at\nTroy, and was getting Pramnian wine to drink with much flour sprinkled\nin it, and cheese grated (all which seem to be of inflammatory\ntendency), the sons of \u00c6sculapius neither blamed the woman who presented\nit, nor reproved Patroclus, for presenting the cure. Surely such a\npotion, said he, is absurdly improper for one in such a case. Not so,\nsaid I, if you consider, that the descendants of \u00c6sculapius, as they\ntell us, did not, before the time of Herodicus, practise the method of\ncure now in use, which puts the patient on a regimen;\u2014whereas Herodicus,\nbeing a teacher of youth, and in weak health too, confounded gymnastics\nand medicine, and made himself first very uncomfortable, and afterwards\nmany others besides. How was that? said he. By procuring himself a\nlingering death, said I; for while he was constantly attending to his\ndisease, which was mortal, he was not able, as I imagine, to cure\nhimself; though, to the neglect of everything else, he was constantly\nusing medicines, and thus passed his life, always most uneasy, if he\ndeparted in the least from his usual diet; and through this wisdom of\nhis, struggling long with death, he arrived at old age. A mighty reward,\nsaid he, he reaped for his cleverness! Such as became one, said I, who\nwas unconscious that it was not from ignorance or inexperience of this\nmethod of cure, that \u00c6sculapius did not discover it to his descendants,\nbut simply because he was aware, that in all well-regulated states there\nevery one had a certain work enjoined him, necessary to be done, and no\none could be permitted to have time or leisure to get sick throughout\nlife, or busy himself with taking medicine;\u2014a fact that we amusingly\ndiscover in the case of labouring people, but do not see it in that of\nthe rich, and those reputed happy. How? said he.\n\nCHAP. XV.\u2014A builder, replied I, when he falls sick, gets from the\nphysician some potion for throwing up his disease, or purging it\ndownwards, or else, by means of caustic or amputation, for getting freed\nfrom trouble; but if any one prescribe him a system of regimen, putting\ncaps on his head and so on, he quickly tells him that he has no leisure\nto lie sick, and it does not suit him to live in that manner, attending\nto his troubles, and neglecting his duty; and so, bidding the physician\nfarewell, he returns to his ordinary diet, and, should he recover, he\ngoes on managing his affairs, but should his body be unable to bear up\nagainst the disease, he dies, and gets rid of his troubles. Such an one,\nsaid he, ought to use the art of medicine just in this manner. Is it\nnot, said I, because he has a certain business,\u2014and which, if he does\nnot do it, it is no profit for him to live? Plainly, replied he. But the\nrich man, as we say, has no such work allotted him, from which, when\ncompelled to refrain, life is not worth the having? It is said so of\nhim, at least. You do not mind, said I, what Phocylides says,\u2014that one\nought, throughout life, to practise virtue. I think, replied he, we\nattended to that formerly. We shall not differ on this point, said I.\nBut let us learn, whether excessive attention to one\u2019s disease is to be\nthe business of the rich, and life is not worth keeping, if he does not\ngive this attention; inasmuch, as such a life hinders the mind from\nattending to building and other arts,\u2014but, as respects the exhortation\nof Phocylides, it is no hinderance. Yes, by Zeus, said he, it is, and\nthat in the greatest degree, when this unusual care of the body goes\nbeyond gymnastics. It agrees neither with attention to private economy,\nor military expeditions, or sedentary magistracies in the city. But what\nis of most importance is, that such application to health ill suits any\nsort of learning and inquiry and solitary study, because one is then\nperpetually dreading certain pains and swimmings of the head, and\nblaming philosophy as the cause thereof,\u2014so that, where there is this\nattention to health, it greatly hinders the practice of virtue and\nimprovement therein, as it makes us always imagine that we are ill and\nailing. Very probably, said he. And shall we not say, that \u00c6sculapius\ntoo understood these things, when to persons in health, and such as used\na wholesome diet, but were afflicted by some particular disease, to\nthese and such kind of constitution he prescribed medicine, resisting\ntheir ailments by drugs and incisions, but still ordering them their\nusual diet, that the public might not be injured; but he did not\nattempt, either by low or nourishing diet, to cure thoroughly diseased\nsystems; and so to afford a long and miserable life to the man himself,\nand his descendants too, who would probably be of the same kind: for he\ndid not think that a man ought to be cured, who could not live in the\nordinary course, as in that case he would be of no service either to\nhimself or the state. You make \u00c6sculapius, a politician, observed he.\nPlainly so, said I; and his sons may evince that he was so.[136] See you\nnot again, that at Troy they proved their bravery in war, and, as I say,\npractised medicine likewise? And do not you remember, that when Menelaus\nwas wounded by Pandarus,\u2014\n\n             ... they sucked the wound, then spread it o\u2019er\n             With drugs of balmy power;[137]\u2014\n\nbut as for what he wanted to eat or drink afterwards, they prescribed\nfor him no more than for Eurypylus, because they deemed external\napplications sufficient to heal men, who, before they were wounded, had\nbeen healthy and moderate in their diet, whatever potion they might have\ndrunk at the time, but conceived, that a diseased constitution and an\nintemperate life were beneficial neither to the men themselves nor to\nothers, and that their art ought not to be employed on, nor minister to\nthem, even were they richer than Midas.[138] How vastly clever, said he,\nyou are making the sons of \u00c6sculapius!\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 136:\n\n  Viz. Machaon and Podalirius.\n\nFootnote 137:\n\n  Hom. Il. iv. 218, though somewhat modified by Plato.\n\nFootnote 138:\n\n  Plato is here alluding to Tyrt\u00e6us, Eleg. iii. v. 6:\u2014\n\n                  \u039f\u1f50\u03b4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f30 \u03a4\u03b9\u03b8\u03c9\u03bd\u03bf\u1fd6\u03bf \u03c6\u03cd\u03b7\u03bd \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03ad\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f34\u03b7\n                  \u03a0\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03af\u03b7 \u03b4\u1f72 \u039c\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03c9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b9\u03bd\u03cd\u03c1\u1ff3 \u03b2\u03ac\u03b8\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XVI.\u2014It is quite right, replied I;\u2014though in opposition to us,\nthe tragedy-writers, and Pindar also, say that \u00c6sculapius was the son\nof Apollo,[139] and was induced by gold to undertake the cure of a\nrich man, already in a dying state,\u2014for which indeed he was struck\nwith a thunderbolt:\u2014but we, in accordance with what has been before\nsaid, will not believe them as to both these statements, but assert,\nthat were he really a god\u2019s son, he would not have been given to\nfilthy lucre,\u2014or else, if he were given to filthy lucre, he was not a\ngod\u2019s son. This at least, said he, is quite correct. But what say you\nto this, Socrates?\u2014-Must we not provide good physicians for the state;\nand must not these probably be such as have been conversant with great\nnumbers both of healthy and sick people; and judges also, who have had\nexperience of all varieties of dispositions? I am speaking\nparticularly, said I, of those who are good: but [tell me,]\u2014are you\naware who they are, that I deem such? [I shall be,] if you will tell\nme, replied he. I will try to do so, said I; but you are inquiring in\none and the same question about two different things. As how? said he.\nPhysicians, replied I, would become extremely skilled, if, from\nchildhood upwards, they would, in course of learning their art, gain\nexperience from a large number of bodies, and these too of a very\nsickly character,\u2014especially if they should be themselves afflicted\nwith all kinds of maladies, and not be altogether of a healthy\nconstitution,\u2014for it is not by the body, methinks, that they cure the\nbody (else their own bodies would never be allowed to be diseased, or\nbecome so), but they cure the body by the soul, which, while in a\ndiseased state, or becoming so, is incapable of properly performing\nany cure whatever. Right, said he. But as for the judge, friend, said\nI, he governs the soul by the soul; and if it has been bred up from\nchildhood with depraved souls, has constantly associated with them,\nand has itself committed all sorts of crime, it cannot so far\nemancipate itself, as of itself to judge correctly about others\u2019 ill\ndeeds, just as happens with respect to bodily ailments:\u2014no, it must\neven in youth be unacquainted with and unpolluted by bad habits, if it\nwould be fair and honourable itself and judge correctly of what is\njust. Hence, therefore, the virtuous, even in youth, appear simple,\nand easily deceived by the unjust, because they have within them,\nforsooth, no dispositions corresponding in sentiment with those of the\nwicked. Aye, indeed, said he, this very often happens to them. For\nthis reason, said I, the good judge must not be a youth, but old,\u2014one\nwho has been late in learning the nature of wickedness, which he\napprehends not as a peculiar quality resident in his own soul, but\nfrom having, as a foreign one, long studied it in the souls of others,\nand from having ascertained the nature of its evil by positive\nscience, rather than personal experience. Such an one as this, said\nhe, is likely to be a very noble judge. And a good one too, said I;\nthe very thing you required: for the man with a good soul is\ngood;\u2014while on the other hand, the clever, slyly suspicious man,\u2014he,\nnamely, who has himself committed much sin, and is deemed subtle and\nwise when in the society of his equals, has the repute of being a\nclever, wary kind of person, because he has constantly in his eye\nthose models that reside within himself:\u2014but whenever he approaches\nthe good, who are his seniors, he appears mightily inferior,\nunseasonably suspicious, and wholly ignorant of moral integrity,\nhaving within him no models of any such quality; but, on the other\nhand, as he has more frequent intercourse with the wicked than with\nthe wise, he appears, both to himself and others, unusually wise,\nrather than ignorant. Quite true, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 139:\n\n  Respecting this power of \u00c6sculapius to raise the dead, comp. Pind.\n  Pyth. iii. v. 96, &c. Euripides, also, in the opening lines of the\n  Alcestis, remarks, that \u00c6sculapius was struck with lightning, but\n  without assigning any reason.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XVII.\u2014We must not then, said I, in such a man as this, look for\na wise and good judge, but in the former one. Vice, indeed, can never\nknow both itself and virtue; but virtue, where the moral temper is\ngradually instructed, will attain to a scientific knowledge both of\nitself and depravity also:\u2014this man, then, and not the wicked one, is,\nas I think, wise. I, too, said he, am of the same opinion. You will\nestablish, then, in your state a science of medicine such as we have\ndescribed, and along with it a corresponding system of judicature,\nboth of which together may carefully provide for such of your citizens\nas are naturally well disposed both in body and in mind; while, as\nregards the opposite, such as are diseased in their bodies, they\nshould let die; but as for those who are thoroughly evil and incurable\nas to the soul, these they are themselves to put to death? It seems,\nat any rate, the best, said he, that can happen, both for those who\nare thus afflicted and for the state itself. As respects your youths,\nhowever, it is quite plain, said I, that they will be cautious in\ncalling in the aid of judicial science, so long as they are employed\non that simple music, which, we said, generates temperance. Of course,\nsaid he. Will not then, the musician who pursues gymnastics, on the\nvery same principles as his own art, prefer doing so in such a way as\nnot to want medicine except when absolutely necessary? I think so. His\nexercises too, and his labours, he will perform with reference more to\nthe spirited portion[140] of his nature thus stirred into action, than\nto mere physical strength,\u2014differently, indeed, from all other\nwrestlers, who take food and undergo toil with a view to the promotion\nof bodily strength? Most true, said he. In that case, said I, Glaucon,\nthey who propose to teach music and gymnastics, propose them, not for\nwhat some imagine, namely, to cure the body by the one, and the soul\nby the other. If not, what is their motive? asked he. They seem to\npropose them both, said I, chiefly on the soul\u2019s account. As how?\nPerceive you not, said I, how those persons have regulated their\nintellect itself, who have all their life been conversant with\ngymnastics, yet never studied music,\u2014or how those are affected who\nhave lived in a manner quite the reverse of this? What are you\nspeaking about? said he. Of savageness and fierceness, said I, and\nagain of effeminacy and mildness. Yes, I understand, said he;\u2014that is,\npersons who apply themselves to unmixed gymnastics become more savage\nthan they ought; and those again [who attend] to music alone, are\nsofter than becomes them. And moreover, said I, this very savageness\nimparts probably a certain spirit to the disposition, and, if rightly\ndisciplined, will become fortitude; but when stretched too far, it\nwill probably become indecently fierce and troublesome. So I think,\nsaid he. But what;\u2014will not the philosophic nature partake of the mild\nalso; and when this disposition is carried to excess, may it not prove\nsofter than it ought, and if rightly disciplined, both mild and\nmodest? Just so. We say also, that our guardians ought naturally to be\npossessed of both. They ought. Ought they not, then, to be made to\nsuit one another? Of course. And the soul of the person thus suited is\ntemperate and brave? Certainly. But the soul of a person not so suited\nis cowardly and savage? Especially so.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 140:\n\n  \u03a4\u1f78 \u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03bf\u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u03ad\u03c2. This refers to Plato\u2019s division of the mental faculties\n  into \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd and \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd, the latter of which is again divided\n  into \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd and \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd. The art of gymnastics, he\n  conceives then, has for its object\u2014not so much the promotion of the\n  bodily strength as the excitement of the spirited part of our\n  nature,\u2014\u03c4\u1f78 \u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03bf\u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u03ad\u03c2.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XVIII.\u2014As a matter of course, then, when one consents to be\nsoothed with the charms of music, and to have poured into his soul\nthrough his ears (as through a pipe) those lately called the sweet,\neffeminate, and doleful harmonies, and spends the whole of his life\nhumming ditties and charmed with melody,[141]\u2014such an one, first of\nall,\u2014should he possess any spirit,\u2014softens it like iron, and makes it\nserviceable, instead of useless and harsh. When, however, he\npositively declines desisting, and becomes the victim of a kind of\nfascination,\u2014after this, he is melted and dissolved, till his spirit\nis quite spent, and the nerves are, as it were, cut out from his soul,\nmaking him an effeminate warrior.[142] Quite so indeed, said he.\nAye,\u2014said I; if he had originally possessed a nature devoid of spirit,\nhe would quickly have done thus; but, if [he possesses] one of high\nspirit, it makes the mind weak, and causes it to be quickly\noverbalanced, speedily either excited and overcome; and hence men\nbecome outrageous and ill-tempered, rather than high-spirited. Quite\nso, indeed. But what;\u2014if a man labour much in gymnastics and live on\nextremely good diet, but pay no attention to music and philosophy; is\nhe not first of all, from having his body in good condition,\nabundantly filled with prudence and spirit, and does he not become\nbraver than he was before? Surely. But what;\u2014supposing he does nothing\nelse, and has no commerce with the Muses, not even if he had any love\nof learning in his soul, as neither having a taste for investigation,\nnor sharing in any inquiry or reasoning, or other musical pursuit\nwhatever, does it not become feeble, deaf, and blind, as being neither\nawakened, nor nurtured, nor his perceptions purified? Just so. Such an\none then becomes, I suppose, a hater of argument, and indisposed to\nmusic,\u2014one who cannot at all be reasoned into anything, but conducts\nhimself in all matters with violence and ferocity, like a wild beast;\nand thus he lives in ignorance and barbarity, out of measure, and\nunpolished? Quite so, said he. Corresponding then to these two\ntempers, it seems, I would say, that some deity has furnished men with\ntwo arts,\u2014music and gymnastics,\u2014relating respectively to the\nhigh-spirited and the philosophic nature,\u2014not indeed, for the soul and\nbody, otherwise than as a by-work and accessory, but with a view to\nthose two tempers, that they may be mutually suitable to each other by\nbeing tightened and loosened at pleasure. Aye,\u2014it seems so. Whoever\nthen can most cleverly mingle gymnastics with music, and introduce\nthem in justest measure into the soul, this person we may most\nproperly call completely musical, and most harmoniously disposed,\u2014far\nmore, indeed, than the man who puts in tune the strings of an\ninstrument. Very likely, Socrates, said he. Shall we not then, always\nneed, Glaucon, such a president in our city, if its government is to\nbe kept entire? It will indeed be quite needful, as far at least as we\ncan.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 141:\n\n  Gr. \u1f45\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd \u03bc\u03ad\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03ba\u1fc7 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b5\u03c7\u1fc7 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f64\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd,\n  \u1f65\u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c7\u03ce\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2, \u1f03\u03c2 \u03bd\u1fe6\u03bd \u03b4\u1f74 \u1f21\u03bc\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u03b3\u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70\u03c2\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b8\u03c1\u03b7\u03bd\u03ce\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f01\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03b9\u03bd\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b3\u03b5\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f51\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1fa0\u03b4\u1fc6\u03c2\n  \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u1fc7 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b2\u03af\u03bf\u03bd \u1f45\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd, &c. The verb \u03bc\u03b9\u03bd\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd signifies _to sing in a\n  high and plaintive key_,\u2014sometimes, also, _to whine_; \u03b3\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd is\n  derived from \u03b3\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, _splendour_, _joy_, and hence means _to be radiant\n  with pleasure, to be of joyful countenance_.\n\nFootnote 142:\n\n  Allusion is here made to Hom. Il. xvii. v. 586:\u2014\n\n              \u1f1d\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1, \u03c4\u03af\u03c2 \u03ba\u03ad \u03c3\u2019 \u1f14\u03c4\u2019 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f08\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b2\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03b5\u03bd;\n              \u039f\u1f37\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u1f74 \u039c\u03b5\u03bd\u03ad\u03bb\u03b1\u03bf\u03bd \u1f51\u03c0\u03ad\u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2, \u1f43\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\n              \u039c\u03b1\u03bb\u03b8\u03b1\u03ba\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f30\u03c7\u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03ae\u03c2\u00b7\n\n             What chiefs of all the Grecians shall henceforth\n             Fear Hector, who from Menelaus shrinks\n             Once deemed effeminate.      _Cowper._\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XIX.\u2014The above then are probably the true models both of education\nand discipline:\u2014for why should one go through the dances, the hunts of\nwild beasts with dogs and nets, the wrestlings and the horse-races\nexpedient for such persons?\u2014for it is almost manifest that they follow\nas a matter of course, nor are they at all hard to discover. Well, said\nhe, perhaps they are not difficult. Granted, said I:\u2014but after this,\nwhat had we next to determine?\u2014Is it not, which of these shall govern,\nand be governed? What else? Is it not plain that the governors should be\nthe elder, and the governed the younger? Plain. And also, that the best\nof them [should govern?] Aye,\u2014that too. And the best husbandmen;\u2014are\nthey not the cleverest in tillage? Yes. Now, if it be fit that our\nguardians be the best, will they not be most strictly watchful over the\ncity? Yes. With this view should we not make them prudent, and able, and\ncareful also of the city? It is the fact. At any rate a man would be\nmost careful of what he happens to love? Necessarily so. And this at\nleast one must especially love,\u2014namely, what he deems to have a\ncommunity of interest with himself, especially when he conceives, that\nin another\u2019s good fortune he may find good fortune too,\u2014but if\notherwise, the reverse? Just so, said he. We must choose then, from the\nrest of the guardians such men, as on inquiry most of all seem to\nperform with all cheerfulness through an entire life whatever they deem\nexpedient for the state,\u2014while, as to the inexpedient, they will not do\nit by any means at all. These are just the proper persons, said he. I\nreally think that they ought to be observed at all stages of life,\nwhether they act consistently with this opinion, without either being\nreduced or forcibly compelled inconsiderately to throw up the opinion,\nof its being a duty to do what is best for the state. What throwing up\ndo you mean? said he. I will tell you, said I. Opinion seems to me to\ncome from the intellect either voluntarily or involuntarily,\u2014voluntarily\nindeed as regards false opinion, [when it comes] from him who unlearns\nit,\u2014but involuntarily, as regards every true one. The case of the\nvoluntary one, replied he, I understand; but that of the involuntary I\nwant to learn. What;\u2014are not even you of opinion, said I, that men are\ndeprived of good things involuntarily, but of evil things voluntarily?\nIs being deceived respecting the truth no evil, and the attainment of\ntruth no good? and think you not, that to form opinions respecting\nthings as they really exist is attaining the truth? Aye, said he, you\nspeak correctly:\u2014they do indeed seem to me to be deprived unwillingly of\ntrue opinion. Are they then thus affected by being robbed, or enchanted,\nor forced? Now, at any rate, said he, I do not understand you. I am\nprobably expressing myself, said I, just like the tragedians:[143] for,\nI say, that those [have their opinions] stolen, who change them through\npersuasion, or else forget them; because, in the one case, they are\nimperceptibly removed by time, and in the other by reasoning:\u2014now\nperhaps you understand? Yes. And those, I say, are forced out of their\nopinions, whom grief or agony obliges to change them? This too, said he,\nI understand, and you are right in saying so. Those, moreover, methinks,\nyou will say, are enchanted out of their opinions, who change them,\neither bewitched by pleasure or appalled by fear. For whatever deceives,\nsaid he, seems to exercise a kind of magical enchantment.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 143:\n\n  Plato here alludes to the obscure style sometimes adopted by them to\n  mystify the hearers. Comp. viii. ch. 3, where they are spoken of as\n  \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u1fd6\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03b6\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f10\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f51\u03c8\u03b7\u03bb\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2.\n  Aristophanes all through \u201cthe Frogs\u201d caricatures this mystifying,\n  bombastic tendency.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XX.\u2014We must now then inquire,\u2014as I was saying before,\u2014who are the\nbest guardians of their own particular maxim, that they should do\nwhatever they deem to be best for the state; and they should observe\nthem too quite from childhood, setting before them such work, as may\nlead them most readily to forget such a matter and delude themselves;\nand we should choose one who is mindful and hard to be deluded, while\none who is not so we should reject:\u2014is that it? Yes. And we must appoint\nthem labours and pains and contests, in which we must observe these very\nsame things. Right, said he. Should we not, also, said I, appoint a\nthird contest, that of the mountebank kind; and look to see, just as\npersons lead young colts amidst noises and tumults, to find out whether\nthey are frightened?\u2014and thus, while yet young, they must be led into\nvarious fearful situations, and again be thrown back into pleasures,\ntrying them far more than gold in the fire, whether a person appears\nhard to be beguiled by mountebank tricks, and is of composed demeanour\namidst all, because he is a good guardian of himself, and of that music\nin which he had been instructed, proving himself in all these respects\nto be in just rhythm and harmony. Being of such character, he would\ntruly be most useful both to himself and the state. And he who in\nchildhood, youth, and manhood, has been thus tried, and come out pure,\nmay be appointed governor and guardian of the state; honours are to be\npaid him while he lives, and at his death he should receive the highest\nrewards of public burial and other memorials:\u2014while one that is not such\nwe must reject. Somewhat like this, methinks, Glaucon, said I,\u2014for we\nhave only drawn it in outline, not defined it accurately,[144]\u2014should be\nthe mode of choosing and establishing our governors and guardians. I\nthink so too, rejoined he. Is it not then really most correct to call\nthese the perfect guardians, both as to what relates to enemies abroad\nand friends at home, for taking from one party the will, and from the\nother the power of doing mischief, while the youth (whom we just now\ncalled guardians) will be allies and auxiliaries to the decrees of the\ngovernors? Yes, I think so, replied he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 144:\n\n  Gr. \u1f61\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u03cd\u03c0\u1ff3, \u03bc\u1f74 \u03b4\u03b9\u2019 \u1f00\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03b2\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2, \u03b5\u1f30\u03c1\u1fc6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9. Comp. vi. ch. 6\u2014\u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1\n  \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c4\u03cd\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd \u1f67\u03bd \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03c9, where \u03c4\u03cd\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd, as here means _a general notion_ or\n  _sketch_, like \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c6\u1f74\u03bd in ch. 16 of the same book.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XXI.\u2014What then, said I, should be our plan, when we are falsifying\nby one of the well-intentioned and necessary untruths, such as we just\nmentioned, with a view to persuade chiefly the governors\nthemselves;\u2014but, if not these, the rest of the state? What kind of\nuntruth do you mean? Nothing new, said I, but something like the\nPh\u0153nician fable,[145] which has often taken place heretofore, as the\npoets say and have persuaded us, but which has not happened in our\ntimes, nor do I know whether it is likely to happen,\u2014to persuade one of\nwhich indeed requires great suasive power. You seem to me, said he, to\nhesitate to tell it! I shall appear to you, said I, to hesitate with\nvery good reason, whenever I shall tell it. Speak, said he, and be not\nafraid. I will tell you then, though I know not with what courage, or\nwhat words I am to use in telling you;\u2014and I will attempt, first of all\nto persuade the governors themselves, and the soldiers, and then also\nthe rest of the state, that, whatever training or education we gave\nthem, all these particulars seemed to affect and befal them like dreams,\nwhile really they were in course of formation and development beneath\nthe earth, where are fabricated not only themselves, but also their\narmour and other equipments:\u2014but after they were completely fashioned,\nthe earth, who is their mother, brought them forth; and now they ought\nto consult the interests of the country in which they reside as for a\nmother and nurse, and to defend her in case of invasion, and to look\nupon the rest of the citizens as their brethren, and sprung from the\nsame soil. It is not without reason, said he, that some time back, you\nwere ashamed to tell this falsehood. Quite so, said I:\u2014but still hear\nthe remainder of the fable. All of you in the state truly are brethren\n(as we shall tell them by way of fable); but the God, in forming you,\nmixed gold in the formation of such of you as are able to govern;\u2014on\nwhich account they are the most honourable;\u2014in such as are auxiliaries,\nsilver;\u2014and in the husbandmen and other craftsmen, iron and brass. Since\nthen you are all of the same kindred, you would for the most part beget\nchildren resembling yourselves; and sometimes perhaps silver will be\ngenerated out of gold, and out of silver there might be a golden\noffspring; and thus in all other ways [are they generated] out of one\nanother.[146] Governors then, first and chiefly, the God charges, that\nover nothing are they to be such good guardians, or to keep such\nvigilant watch, as over their children;\u2014[to know] with which of these\nprinciples their souls are imbued;\u2014and should their descendants be of\nbrass or iron, they will show them no indulgence whatever, but assigning\nthem honour just proportioned to their natural temper, will thrust them\ndown to the rank of craftsmen or husbandmen. And if again any from among\nthese latter shall exhibit a golden or silver sort of nature, they are\nto pay them honour and elevate them;\u2014some to the guardianship, others to\nthe rank of auxiliaries,\u2014the oracle having declared that the state shall\nperish whenever iron or brass shall hold its guardianship. With respect\nto this fable then, have you any means of persuading them of its truth?\nNone, said he, of persuading these men themselves; but I have as\nrespects their sons and posterity, and the rest of mankind afterwards.\nEven this, said I, would act well in making them more anxious about the\nstate\u2019s welfare, and for one another; for I almost understand what you\nmean;\u2014and this truly will lead the same way as the oracle.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 145:\n\n  The scholiast tells us that the Ph\u0153nician fable had reference to the\n  myths related about the dragon and the sown men that arose at the\n  bidding of Cadmus, the son of Agenor, and grandson of Poseidon and\n  Libya, whose native country was Ph\u0153nicia.\n\nFootnote 146:\n\n  Aristotle makes some rather strong remarks on these views in his\n  Polit. ch. 2, \u00a7 15, ed. Schneid.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XXII.\u2014As for ourselves, having armed these earth-born sons, let us\nlead them forward under the conduct of their leaders; and when they are\ncome into the city, let them consider where they may best pitch their\ncamp, so as best to keep in order those within it, should any one be\nunwilling to obey the laws; and likewise how they may defend it against\nthose without, should any enemy come, like a wolf, on the fold. And when\nthey have pitched their camp, and sacrificed to the proper divinities,\nlet them erect their tents: is that the way? Just so, said he. They\nshould be such then as may suffice to defend them, both from winter\u2019s\ncold and summer-heat? Of course; for I think, said he, you are alluding\nto houses. Yes, said I, those of the military class, not those of the\nmoney-makers. How, replied he, do you say that the latter differs from\nthe former? I will try to tell you, said I; for, of all things, it is\nthe most dreadful, and disgraceful to shepherds, to breed, as guardians\nof the flocks, such kind of dogs, and in such a manner, as that, either\nthrough want of discipline, or hunger, or some other ill habit, the dogs\nshould themselves attempt to hurt the sheep, and so resemble wolves\nrather than dogs. It is dreadful, of course, said he. Must we not then\ntake all care, lest our allies act thus towards our citizens, as being\nthe more powerful, and, instead of generous allies, resemble savage\nmasters? We must take care, said he. Would they not be prepared to\nexercise the greatest caution, if they were really well educated? They\nare so, moreover, replied he. I then, for my part, observed: that you\ncannot properly insist on, friend Glaucon; but what we were just now\nsaying is proper; namely, that they should have a good education,\nwhatever its nature, if they are to possess what is most important\ntowards rendering them mild, both among themselves and towards those\nunder their guardianship. Right, said he. In addition then to this\ntraining, any intelligent person would say, that their houses and all\nother effects ought to be so contrived, as neither to impede their\nguardians in becoming the very best possible, nor to excite them to the\ninjury of the other citizens. Aye, and he will say true. If then they\nintend to be such, consider, said I, whether they ought to live and\narrange their household in some such manner, as follows: First, let none\npossess any private property unless it be absolutely necessary: next,\nlet none have any dwelling, or store-house, into which any one that\npleases may not enter: then, as for necessaries, let them be such as\nboth temperate and brave champions in war may require; making for\nthemselves this law, not to receive such a reward of their guardianship\nfrom the other citizens, as to have either surplus or deficiency at the\nyear\u2019s end. Let them also frequent public meals, as in camps, and live\nin common; and we must tell them, that they have ever in their souls\nfrom the gods a divine gold and silver, and therefore have no need of\nthat which is human; and that it were profane to pollute the possession\nof the divine ore, by mixing it with the alloy of the mortal metal;\nbecause the money of the vulgar has produced many impious deeds, while\nthat which they have is pure; and that of all men in the city, they\nalone should not be allowed to handle or touch gold or silver, or\nharbour it under their roof, or carry it about, nor to drink out of\nsilver or gold. By such means they will be likely to preserve both\nthemselves and the state; but whenever they shall possess private lands\nand houses, and money, they will become stewards and farmers instead of\nguardians, and hateful masters instead of allies to the other citizens;\nin hating indeed, and being hated, in plotting, and being plotted\nagainst, they will pass the whole of their life; much more frequently\nand more really terrified by the enemies from within than by those from\nwithout, as they and the rest of the state are hastening very near to\ndestruction. For all these reasons, said I, we must say, that our\nguardians should be thus regulated, both as to their houses and all\nother matters. And let us consider these things as law; shall we not? By\nall means, said Glaucon.\n\n\n                                BOOK IV.\n\n                               ARGUMENT.\n\nIn the _fourth book_, after defining the true position and functions of\n    the \u03c6\u03cd\u03bb\u03b1\u03be and the arrangement of a model state,\u2014which he further\n    conceives to comprise, as essentials, wisdom, temperance, fortitude,\n    and justice, the necessary union and coherence of which he\n    demonstrates by analogy with the numerous mental faculties, which,\n    like the members of a state, exist by mutual connexion and\n    dependence. This concord of faculties is at the bottom of Plato\u2019s\n    notion of a state; and this constitutes justice, the benefits of\n    which are negatively proved by the exposure of injustice. This\n    justice, however, he proves to have numerous ramifications, just in\n    the same way as both himself and Aristotle conceive that under the\n    term politics is included everything that concerns civil\n    administration when placed in the hands of the people themselves,\n    both generically and in its specific departments.\n\nCHAP. I.\u2014Adimantus hereupon rejoining said: What answer will you make,\nSocrates, if one were to say that you do not make these men very\nhappy,\u2014and that owing to themselves, whose property the state really\nis,\u2014yet they enjoy no advantage in the state, such as others do who\npossess lands, build beautiful and large houses, purchase suitable\nfurniture, offer sacrifices to the gods at their own expense, entertain\nstrangers, and, as you were just now saying, possess gold and silver,\nand everything generally supposed to contribute towards making men\nhappy. Aye, doubtless, he may say, they seem, like hired auxiliaries, to\nbe settled in the state for no other purpose than keeping guard. Yes,\nsaid I; and that too only for their maintenance, without receiving, like\nthe rest, pay as well as rations;\u2014so that they are not to be allowed so\nmuch as to travel abroad privately, though they wish it, nor bestow\nmoney on mistresses, nor spend it in such other ways as those do who are\nreputed to be happy. These and many such like things you leave out of\nthe accusation. Well, let these charges too, said he, be made against\nthem. What answer then, are we to make, you ask? I do. While travelling\non the same road, we shall find, methinks, what is to be said: for we\nshall state, that it would be nothing strange, were these men, under\nthese circumstances, to be the happiest possible:\u2014yet it was not with an\neye to this, that we are establishing our state,\u2014to have any one tribe\nin it remarkably happy, but that the whole state might be so to the\nfullest extent; for we judged, that in such an one more particularly we\nshould meet with justice, and again in that the worst established\ninjustice; and that, on thoroughly examining these, we might determine\nwhat we have long been seeking. Now then, as we suppose, we are forming\na happy state, not by selection, making some few only so in it, but the\nwhole: and we will next consider one its reverse. Just as if, when we\nwere painting human figures, a person should come and blame us, saying,\nthat we do not place the most beautiful colours on the most beautiful\nparts of the creature,\u2014inasmuch as the eyes, the most beautiful part,\nwere not painted with purple, but black; we should seem perhaps to make\na sufficient answer to him, by saying, Clever fellow, do not suppose\nthat we ought to paint the eyes so beautifully, as that they should not\nappear to be eyes, and so with the other parts;\u2014but consider, rather,\nwhether, in giving each particular part its due, we make the whole\nbeautiful. And especially now, do not oblige us to confer such happiness\non our guardians as shall make them anything rather than guardians: for\nwe know too, how to dress out the husbandmen in fine robes and gird them\nwith gold, and bid them till the ground with a view to pleasure\nonly,\u2014and in like manner, those who make earthenware, to lie at their\nease by the fire, drinking and feasting, and placing the wheel near them\nto work just so much as they like;\u2014and so also how to confer happiness\non every one in such a manner as to render the whole state happy. But do\nnot advise us in this way; because, if we obey you, neither will the\nhusbandman be really a husbandman, nor the potter a potter; nor will any\none else be really of any of those professions of which the state is\ncomposed. As to all the rest, it is of less consequence:\u2014for, when\nshoemakers become bad and corrupt, and profess to be shoemakers when\nthey are not so, no great mischief befals the state; but when guardians\nof the laws and of the state are not so really, but only in appearance,\nyou see how entirely they destroy the whole state, and, on the other\nhand, that they alone have the opportunity of managing it well and\neffecting its happiness. If then we would appoint men who shall be\nreally guardians of the city, [let us choose] those who will be least\nhurtful to it; but he who says that they should be a kind of farmers,\nand as in a festival meeting, not in a state, jolly entertainers, must\nspeak of something else rather than a city. We must consider, then,\nwhether we establish guardians with this view, that they may enjoy the\ngreatest happiness,\u2014or, looking to the entire state, we regard whether\nit is to be found therein; and we must compel these allies and guardians\nto do this, and persuade them to become the best performers of their own\nparticular work, and act also towards all others in the same manner; and\nthus, as the whole city becomes prosperous, and well constituted, we\nmust permit its several classes to share in that degree of happiness\nwhich their nature admits.\n\nCHAP. II.\u2014I think you say well, said he. Well then, said I, what is near\nakin to this, shall I be thought to say rightly. In what particularly?\nWith respect to all other artificers again, consider whether these\nthings corrupt them, so as to make them bad workmen. To what do you\nallude? Riches, said I, and poverty. As how? Thus:\u2014Would the potter,\nthink you, after he has become rich, have any desire still to mind his\nart? By no means, said he. But will he not become more idle and careless\nthan he was before? Much more so. Will he not then become a worse\npotter? This too, much more so, said he. And, moreover, being unable\nthrough poverty to supply himself with tools, or other requisites of his\nart, his workmanship will be more imperfectly executed, and his sons, or\nothers whom he instructs, will be inferior artists. Of course they will.\nOwing to both these causes, then, [namely] poverty and riches, the\nworkmanship in the arts becomes inferior, and [the artists] themselves\ninferior too. It appears so. We have then, it seems, found out other\nthings for our guardians, against which they must by all means watch,\nthat they may not steal into the state without their knowledge. Of what\nsort are these? Riches, said I, and poverty;\u2014the one engendering luxury,\nidleness, and a love of innovation;\u2014the other, illiberality and\nmischief, as well as a love of innovation. Quite so, said he. But,\nSocrates, pray consider this;\u2014how is our state to have the power of\nengaging in war, when she is possessed of no money, especially if\ncompelled to wage war against a great and opulent one? It is plain, said\nI, that to fight against one is somewhat difficult; but against two such\nis more easy. How say you? replied he. First of all, now, said I, if\nthere is any occasion for fighting, will they not, being practised\nwarriors, fight against rich men? Yes, surely, said he. What then, said\nI, Adimantus, would not a single boxer, trained as highly as possible to\nthis exercise, seem to you easily able to fight against two who are not\nboxers, but on the other hand, are rich and fat? Not perhaps with both\nat once, said he. Not even, said I, if he should be enabled to retire a\nlittle, and then turn back and give a blow to the furthest in advance,\nand repeat this frequently in the sun and heat?\u2014would not a person of\nthis kind easily defeat many such as these? Clearly so, and no wonder,\nsaid he. But think you not, that the rich have more science and\nexperience in boxing than in the military art? I do, said he. In that\ncase, according to appearances, our wrestlers will easily combat with\ndouble and threefold their number. I will agree with you, said he; for I\nbelieve you say right. But what,\u2014supposing they were to send an embassy\nto another state, informing them of their true situation, telling them,\nWe make no use either of gold or silver, neither is it lawful for us to\nuse them, while for you it is so:\u2014if then you become our allies in war,\nyou shall receive the enemy\u2019s spoils;\u2014think you that any, on hearing\nthis, would choose to fight against stanch and resolute dogs, rather\nthan in alliance with the dogs to fight against fat and tender sheep? I\nthink not; but, if the wealth of all the rest be accumulated in one\nsingle state, take care that it [the wealthy state] does not endanger\nthat which is poor. How good you are, said I, to think that any other\ndeserves to be called a state except such as we have established. Why\nnot? said he. To those others, said I, we must give a more magnificent\nappellation; for each of them comprises very many states, and is not\none, as was said in the game;[147] for there are always in them, however\nsmall they be, two parties hostile to each other,\u2014the poor and the rich;\nand in each of these again there are very many;\u2014to which, if you apply\nas to one, you would be entirely mistaken;\u2014but if, as to many, giving\none party the goods and power, or even persons, of the other, you will\nalways have the many for your allies, and the few for enemies; and, so\nlong as your state be managed temperately, as lately established, it\nwill be the greatest,\u2014not I mean in mere repute, but really the\ngreatest, though its defenders were no more than one thousand; for a\nsingle state of such size you will not easily find, either among Greeks\nor barbarians, but many which have the repute of being many times larger\nthan one such as this.[148] Are you of a different opinion? No, by Zeus,\nsaid he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 147:\n\n  The scholiast tells us, that \u201cto play at cities\u201d (\u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd) is a\n  kind of game at dice, in which the players cried,\u2014\u201cOne city,\u201d or \u201cMany\n  cities;\u201d and he informs us, moreover, that the expression was\n  proverbial.\n\nFootnote 148:\n\n  These notions are severely commented on by Aristotle in his Pol. ii.\n  4.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. III.\u2014This, then, said I, will probably be the best boundary-mark\nfor our rulers as to the size that a state should attain, and what\nextent of ground should be marked off for it in proportion to its bulk,\nwithout reference to anything further?[149] What boundary? said he. I\nsuppose, said I, [it should be] this: So long as the city, as it\nincreases, continues to be one, so far it may increase, but no further.\nVery right, said he. We will impose, then, this further injunction on\nour guardians, to take care by all means that the city be neither small\nnor great, but of moderate extent, and one only. This probably, said he,\nwill be a trifling injunction. A more trifling one still, said I, is\nwhat we previously mentioned, when we observed, that if any descendant\nof the guardians be depraved, he should be dismissed to the other\nclasses; and if one from the other classes be worthy, he should be\npromoted to that of the guardians;\u2014by all which it was intended to show\nthat all the other citizens should apply themselves each to that\nparticular art for which he has a natural genius, that so, each minding\nhis own proper work, should not become many, but one; and thus,\nconsequently, the whole state would have the nature of unity;\u2014not\nplurality. Well,\u2014this, indeed, said he, is a still more trifling\ninjunction than the other. We do not here, said I, good Adimantus, as\nany one might suppose, impose on them many and grave injunctions, but\nall of them rather trifling, if they take care of one grand point that\nwe speak about, or rather not so much great as sufficient. What is that?\nsaid he. The education, said I, and nurture of children; for if, by\nbeing well educated, they become temperate men, they will easily see\nthrough all these things, and such other things as we pass by at\npresent,\u2014women, marriages, and the propagation of the species,\u2014inasmuch\nas these things ought all, according to the proverb,[150] to be made\nentirely common among friends. Yes,\u2014for that, said he, would be most\nright. And moreover, said I, if once a republic is set a-going, it\nproceeds as a circle, constantly on the increase. For nurture and good\neducation, when maintained, engender good dispositions, and good\ndispositions, partaking of such education, turn out still better than\nthe former, especially with reference to propagation, just as with all\nother animals. Probably, said he. To speak then in brief, this,\nparticularly, the guardians of the state must guard against, that it may\nnot be corrupted unawares,\u2014nay, above all things, must they guard\nagainst this, not to make innovations in gymnastics and music, contrary\nto the established order of the state, but as far as possible maintain\nit, through fear that while a man adopts that poetical expression,\n\n                  ... Men most admire that song\n                  Which most partakes of novelty,[151]\n\none might often think that the poet means not new songs, but some new\nstyle of song, and so commends it: but such as this one ought neither to\ncommend nor admit; for as to receiving a new kind of music one should be\nspecially cautious, as endangering the whole: for never, as Damon says,\nand I quite agree with him, are the measures of music altered without\naffecting the most important laws of the state. And me too, you may\nplace, said Adimantus, among those who are of that opinion.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 149:\n\n  From the previous discussion respecting the unity and harmony of a\n  state, Socrates conceives that it may be inferred _also_ what decision\n  should be formed respecting its size and boundaries; and he wishes it\n  to be increased only in such way as may be consistent with moderate\n  bulk, and not endanger its unity and the harmony of its several parts.\n\nFootnote 150:\n\n  Allusion is here made to the well-known Pythagorean adage,\u2014\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\n  \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03ac, all the property of friends should be held in common.\n\nFootnote 151:\n\n  Hom. Odyss. i. v. 353; but with slight variation,\u2014the original having\n  \u1f00\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c3\u03c3\u03b9, not \u1f00\u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c3\u03c3\u03b9. Great stress is here laid on the\n  necessity of keeping up the severe old style of music, inasmuch as the\n  introduction of a new and more luxurious style would infallibly\n  produce a general corruption of national morals. The importance\n  attached to this point will be more truly seen from considering the\n  close relation which, in the opinion of the Greeks, subsisted between\n  all the liberal arts. Plato alludes to the subject at length in the\n  Laws, ii. pp. 656 c, 659 e, and iii. pp. 700 a, &c., and vii.\n  throughout.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. IV.\u2014We must erect then, said I, in music, as it seems, a kind of\ncitadel for our guardians. Nevertheless, neglect of the laws even here,\nsaid he, easily and imperceptibly steals in. Yes, said I, in the way of\ndiversion, and as if it were doing no mischief. No, for it does nothing\nelse, said he, but by gradually insinuating itself into it, insensibly\nflow into their manners and pursuits; and afterwards in a greater degree\nit finds its way into their contracts with each other; and from\ncontracts it enters with much boldness into the laws and political\nestablishments, Socrates, till at last it overturns everything,\nprivately as well as publicly. Well, then, said I, is this the case? It\nappears so to me, he replied. Ought not our children then, as I said at\nthe beginning, even from infancy, to be allowed diversions more\nconformable to the laws? because, if their diversions are inconsistent\nwith the laws, and the children such themselves, it is impossible that\nthey should grow up men obedient to the laws and virtuous. How can it be\notherwise? said he. When, therefore, children beginning well set about\ntheir diversions conformably to the laws, with music, quite the contrary\nto what happens in the former case attends them in everything, and grows\nup with them, and corrects in the state whatever was before neglected.\nTrue, indeed, said he. And regulations, even, said I, that seem but of\nlittle importance, these persons discover anew, which the others had\nallowed altogether to perish. What regulations? Such as these:\u2014That the\nyounger should keep silence before the elder, as is proper, and give\nthem place, and rise up before them,[152] and show reverence to parents;\nlikewise what shaving, what clothes and shoes are proper, with the whole\nbodily dress, and all similar matters. Do not you think so? I do. But to\nmake laws about these things, would, I think, be silly; neither is it\ndone anywhere; nor would it stand, though established both by word and\nwriting. For how can it? It seems then, said I, Adimantus, that in\nwhatever way a man sets out in his education, such accordingly will be\nits consequences; for does not the like always attract the like? Of\ncourse. And we may say, I suppose, that it results at last in something\ncomplete and vigorous, whether it be good or the contrary? Of course,\nsaid he. I would not then, said I, for these reasons, undertake as yet,\nto make laws about such matters as these. Very properly, said he. But\nwhat, by the gods, said I, as to those laws relative to matters of\ncontract, and to the traffic which they severally transact with each\nother in the market, and, if you please, their traffic likewise among\ntheir handicrafts, their abusiveness and bodily assaults, their entering\nof actions at law, their institution of judges, and likewise such\nimposts and payments of taxes as might be expedient either in the\nmarkets or at the ports,\u2014or generally as to laws commercial, municipal,\nor marine, or any other the like,\u2014shall we venture to establish any of\nthese? It is improper, said he, to prescribe them to good and worthy\nmen; for the greater part of them, such as ought to be established by\nlaw, they will easily find out for themselves. Yes, said I, my friend,\nif at least God grant them security for those laws which we have above\ndescribed. But if not so, said he, they will spend the whole of their\nlife making and amending many such [regulations,] imagining that they\nwill thus attain to what is best. You say that such as these, said I,\nwill lead a life like that of sick persons, and such as are unwilling,\nthrough intemperance, to relinquish a bad mode of living? Quite so. And\ntruly, these at least pass their time very pleasantly; for though they\nundergo remedial treatment, they do nothing but make their ailments\ngreater and more complex; and they are ever in hopes, when any one\nrecommends any medicine to them, that by these means they shall soon get\nwell. Aye, that is just the case with diseased persons like these. But\nwhat, said I, is not this pleasant of them, to reckon that man the most\nhateful of all, who tells them the truth, namely, that, till one\nabandons drunkenness, gluttony, unchaste pleasures, and laziness,\nneither drugs nor caustics, nor the use of the knife, nor charms, nor\namulets, nor any other such things as these, will be of any avail? That,\nsaid he, is not very pleasant; for to be angry with one who tells us\nwhat is right, has nothing in it that is pleasant. You seem to be no\nadmirer, said I, of such men as these. No, truly.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 152:\n\n  Comp. here Aristot. Eth. ix. ch. 2:\u2014\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u1f76 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c0\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b2\u03c5\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u1ff3 \u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u1f74\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u2019\n  \u1f21\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03b4\u03bf\u03c4\u03ad\u03bf\u03bd \u1f51\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03c3\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03ba\u03bb\u03af\u03c3\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. V.\u2014You cannot then surely approve of it, even though the entire\ncity (as we were lately saying) should act so; or rather, do they not\nseem to be doing the same that is done by all those cities, which,\nhowever ill-governed, command their citizens not to alter any part of\nthe constitution, for that death will be inflicted on all who do any\nsuch things; while, on the other hand, whoever most cheerfully serves\nthose who thus govern, gratifying them with insinuating flattery, and\nexhibits great dexterity in anticipating and satisfying their desires,\nwill be deemed both good and wise in matters of highest importance, and\nwill be held by them also in the greatest honour? They seem to me at\nleast, said he, to do the very same thing, and I cannot by any means\ncommend them. But what again as to those who desire to manage such\nstates, and are even fond of it, do you not admire their courage and\ndexterity? I do, said he; excepting, indeed, such as are imposed on by\nthem, and fancy that they are really politicians, because they are\npraised by the multitude. How do you mean? Do you not pardon those men?\nsaid I. Do you think it even possible that a man ignorant of the art of\nmeasuring, supposing he should hear many other such men tell him that he\nis four cubits high, would not believe this of himself? Impossible, said\nhe. Be not angry then; for such as these are of all the most ridiculous;\nbecause, as they are ever making laws about such things as we have just\nmentioned, and ever mending them, they conceive they shall find some end\nto the frauds respecting commerce, and what else I just now spoke about,\nthrough ignorance of the fact that they are in fact, as it were, trying\nto destroy a hydra. Nevertheless, it is nothing else, said he, that they\nare now attempting. I think, then, said I, that a true lawgiver ought\nnot to give himself much trouble about such sorts of laws and police,\neither in an ill or well ordered state; in the one, because it is\nunprofitable and of no avail; in the other, because, as for some of the\nlaws, any one whatever can find them out, while others flow quite of\ntheir own accord out of their former habits and pursuits.\n\nWhat then, in the enactment of laws, said he, yet remains for us to\nconsider? And I said: We have nothing, indeed, remaining: to the\nDelphian Apollo, however, there remains the greatest, noblest, and most\nimportant of legal institutions. Of what kind? said he. The erection of\ntemples, sacrifices, and other services to the gods, demons, and heroes;\nlikewise the rites of the dead, and what other ceremonies should be gone\nthrough, with a view to their propitiation. Such things as these,\nindeed, we neither know ourselves, nor, in founding the state, would we\nintrust them to any other, if we be wise; nor would we employ any other\ninterpreter than that of the country: for surely this god, being the\nnatural interpreter to all men about such matters, interprets to them\nsitting in the middle, and, as it were, navel of the earth. Aye, you say\nwell, said he; and we must act accordingly.\n\nCHAP. VI.\u2014Thus then, son of Ariston, said I, is our state established.\nAnd, in the next place, having provided from some source or other\nsufficient light for it, do you yourself observe, and call on your\nbrother and Polemarchus and these others also to do so also, whether we\ncan at all perceive where justice lies, and where injustice, and in what\nrespect they differ from each other; and likewise which of the two that\nman ought to possess, who proposes to be happy, whether with or without\nthe knowledge of gods and men. You say nothing to the purpose, replied\nGlaucon; for you yourself promised to inquire into this, as it was\nunholy for you not to assist by all possible means the cause of justice.\nWhat you remind me of, said I, is true; and I must act accordingly;\nstill it is proper, that you too should assist in the inquiry. Aye, that\nwe will, said he. I hope then, said I, to be able to find what I want in\nthe following manner:\u2014I think that our city, if at least it has been\nrightly established, should be perfectly good. Necessarily so, said he.\nIt is evident then, that it is wise, and brave, and temperate, and just.\nManifestly so. Whatever then of these [virtues] we shall find in it, the\nremainder will be that which is not found? Of course. Supposing of any\nfour things whatever, if we were in quest of one, were we to discover\nthis one at first, we should be satisfied; and were we first to discover\nthe other three, we should discover from this itself what we were\ninquiring after; for it would be manifestly no other than what was left\nbehind. You say right, said he. Well then, since of the virtues above\nmentioned there happened to be four [in our state,] shall we not inquire\nabout them in a similar manner? Plainly so.\n\nCHAP. VII.\u2014First of all, indeed, to my mind at least, wisdom appears to\nhold in it a very conspicuous place; and there appears to be something\nvery peculiar about it. What is that? said he. The state which we have\ndescribed appears to me to be really wise, for it is well advised; is it\nnot? It is. And surely this very thing, the ability of advising well, is\nevidently a kind of science; for in no case do men advise well through\nignorance, but only by means of science. Plainly so. But there are many\nand various kinds of science in the state? Of course there are. Is it\nthen owing to the science of builders, that the state is to be termed\nwise and well-advised? By no means through this, said he; for it would\nonly be clever in building. A state, then, is not to be called wise on\naccount of its skill in advising the best methods of building? Surely\nnot. And what, as respects skill in brass-work or anything else of a\nsimilar nature? For none of these, said he. Nor yet for its knowledge of\nthe productions of the earth [is it said to be wise,] but only skilled\nin agriculture. I think so. But what, said I; is there any science among\nany of the citizens in the state which we have just founded, which\ndeliberates, not about any particular thing in the city, but about the\nwhole, how it may best be conducted, both as regards itself and its\nintercourse with other cities? Yes, there is. What is it, said I, and\namong whom to be found? This very guardianship, said he; and [it may be\nfound] among those very governors, whom we lately termed perfect\nguardians. On account then of this skill, what do you term the state?\nWell-advised, said he, and really wise. Whether then, said I, do you\nimagine that the braziers, or these true guardians, will be the more\nnumerous in the state? The braziers, said he, far more so. And of all,\nsaid I, who owing to their skill are to be held in account, will not\nthese guardians be the fewest in number? By far. By this smallest class\nand portion of the state then, and by the science that presides over and\ngoverns it, is the whole city wisely established on natural principles;\nand this class, as it seems, is by nature the smallest, whose business\nit is to have a share in that science, which of all others ought alone\nto be denominated wisdom. Your remark, replied he, is perfectly true. We\nhave found then, I know not how, one of the four, both as respects its\nnature and the part of the state in which it resides. And for my part,\nsaid he, I think it has been sufficiently described.\n\nCHAP. VIII.\u2014But as to fortitude, both as respects itself, and the\nparticular part of the state in which it resides, on account of which\nthe state is termed brave, that can be no difficult matter to discover.\nHow so? Who, said I, would call a state brave or cowardly, with relation\nto any other than that particular portion which makes war and fights in\nits defence? No one would, said he, with relation to any other. No, said\nI, for I do not think that the other classes therein, whether cowardly\nor brave, can have any influence to make it either the one or the other.\nNo, indeed. The state then is brave in a certain part of itself, because\nit contains such a power as will constantly maintain its opinion about\nthings dreadful, as to their being these very things, and such like,\njust as the lawgiver inculcated during training:\u2014Do you not call this\nfortitude? I have not thoroughly comprehended, said he, what you say; so\ntell it over again. Fortitude, said I, I term a kind of preservative.\nWhat sort of preservative? A preservative of opinion formed by law in a\ncourse of education about things dreadful, as to their nature and\nquality; and I called it a constant preservative, because one retains it\nboth in pains and pleasures, desires and fears, and never casts it off;\nand, if you please, I will liken it to what I think it closely\nresembles. Pray do. Do not you know then, said I, that dyers, when they\nwant to dye their wool, that it may be purple, choose out of ever so\nmany colours only the white, and then prepare and manage it with no\ntrifling pains, so that it may best take a bright hue, and then they dye\nit? And whatever is dyed in this manner is of an indelible dye; nor can\nany washing, either without or with soap, take away its hue; but as for\nwool not thus managed, you know of what sort it proves, whether one dye\neither this or other colours, without previous preparation. I know, said\nhe, that they are easily washed out, and get shabby.[153] Suppose then,\nthat we, too, were to perform according to our ability a similar\noperation, when selecting our soldiers, and instructing them in music\nand gymnastics; and that we should attend to no other object, than that\nthey should obediently and in the best manner receive the laws, as they\nwould a colour, and so acquire indelible opinions about the dreadful,\nand other things as well, through having had a suitable temper and\neducation; these leys then, however strongly detersive, could not wash\naway their dye, whether they be pleasure (which is more powerful in\neffecting this than any alkali[154] or ley whatever), or pain, fear, and\ndesire, which exceed in power all other solvents.\u2014Such a power then, and\nconstant maintenance of right and legitimate opinion about what is\ndreadful or not so, I term and define to be fortitude, unless you offer\nsome other meaning. No; I can offer none, said he; for you seem to me to\nhold, that when a right opinion about these matters arises without\neducation, it is both savage and slavish, and not at all according to\nlaw; and you give it some other name besides fortitude. Your remark is\nquite true, said I. I admit, then, that this is fortitude. Admit\nfurther, said I, that it is political fortitude, and you will admit\nrightly; but we will inquire about it, if you please, more perfectly\nsome other time; for, at present, it is not this, but justice, that we\nare seeking; and with regard to the inquiry about the other, that has,\nin my opinion, been carried far enough. You say well, he rejoined.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 153:\n\n  The original is \u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u1fd6\u03b1\u2014a word not very easy to render.\n\nFootnote 154:\n\n  The word \u03c7\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd, lit. nitre (nitrate of potash), is derived from\n  \u03a7\u03b1\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1, a town and lake of Macedonia, where this mineral was found\n  in great abundance.\u2014Comp. Plin. Nat. Hist. xxxi. 10, 5, 46. The\n  rendering, _alkali_, may perhaps be thought an anachronism; but it\n  expresses the author\u2019s meaning better than any one word in our\n  language.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. IX.\u2014There yet remain, said I, two [virtues] in the state which we\nmust consider,\u2014namely, temperance, and that, for the sake of which we\nhave been searching after all the rest,\u2014that is justice. Certainly. How\nthen can we find out justice, so as to trouble ourselves no further\nabout temperance? I truly neither know, said he, nor do I wish it to be\ndeveloped before the other, if at least we are on that account to\ndismiss altogether the consideration of temperance; but, pray oblige me,\nand consider this before the other. I for my part am quite willing, said\nI; for I should be acting wrongly not to do so.[155] Consider then, said\nhe. We must consider, I replied; and as it appears from this point of\nview, it seems to resemble a sort of symphony and harmony more than the\nvirtues formerly mentioned. How? Temperance, said I, is somehow a\ncertain decorum, and a restraint, as one may say, exercised over certain\npleasures and desires; and when one boasts of being superior to oneself,\nand many other such-like expressions, these are mentioned as indications\nof it; are they not? Yes,\u2014they are its leading indications, said he. But\nis not the expression, \u201csuperior to oneself,\u201d ridiculous?\u2014for he who is\nsuperior to himself must somehow also be inferior to himself; and the\ninferior be the superior,\u2014for the same person is spoken of in all these\ncases. How otherwise? To me, however, said I, the expression seems to\ndenote, that in the same man, as regards his soul, there is one part\nbetter, and another worse; and that when the better part of his nature\ngoverns the inferior, this is what is termed being superior to himself,\nand expresses a commendation; but when, owing to bad education or\nassociations, that better and smaller part is swayed by the superior\npower of the worse part,\u2014then one says, by way of reproach and blame,\nthat the person thus affected is inferior to himself and altogether in\ndisorder. Aye,\u2014it would seem so, said he. Look then, said I, at our new\nstate, and you will find one of these in it: for you will agree, that it\nmay justly be addressed as superior to itself, if that state, in which\nthe better part governs the worse, is called temperate and superior to\nitself. I do see it, said he;\u2014and you say true. And moreover one may\nfind very many and various desires, and pleasures, and pains, especially\namong children, and women, and domestics, and likewise among the\ngreatest and most depraved portion of those who are called free.\nCertainly. But as for the simple and moderate desires, which are led by\nthe intellect, with judgment and right opinion, you will meet with them\nonly in the few, those, namely, of the best temper and best educated.\nTrue, said he. And do not you see that these things are contained in our\nstate, and that there too the desires of the many and the baser part are\nrestrained by the desires and prudence of the smaller and more moderate\npart? I do, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 155:\n\n  The original is very elliptical:\u2014\u1f08\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9, \u1f26\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03b3\u1f7c, \u03b2\u03bf\u03cd\u03bb\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03af \u03b3\u03b5,\n  \u03b5\u1f30 \u03bc\u1f74 \u1f00\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u1ff6. The form \u03b5\u1f30 \u03bc\u1f74 \u1f00\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u1ff6 occurs again, x. ch. 9, p. 608 d,\n  and ch. 12, p. 612 d.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. X.\u2014If then, we are to call any state superior to pleasures and\ndesires, and to itself also, this may be so called. Yes, by all means,\nsaid he. And is it not on all these accounts temperate? Quite so, said\nhe. And if, again, in any other state, the governors and the governed\nagree in opinion on the point, as to the fit governing party, it is to\nbe found in this:\u2014do you not think so? I am strongly of that opinion. In\nwhom then of the citizens will you say that temperance resides, when\nthey are thus situated;\u2014in the governors, or the governed? In both of\nthem, probably, said he. Do you see then, said I, that we just now\nrightly guessed, that temperance resembles a kind of harmony? How so?\nBecause\u2014not as fortitude and wisdom (each of which resides in a certain\npart, the latter making the state wise, and the former courageous), not\nafter this manner does temperance render the state temperate; but it is\nnaturally diffused through the whole, making the weakest and the\nstrongest and the intermediate all to agree, either in prudence, if you\nwill, or if you will, in strength, magnitude, or in substance, or\nanything else of the same kind; so that most justly may we say, that\nthis concord is temperance, a natural consent between the worse and the\nbetter part, [with reference to the question] which of them ought to\ngovern, either in the state or in each individual. I am quite of the\nsame opinion, said he. Well then, said I, three qualities in our state,\nit would seem, have been clearly discovered: but with respect to the\nremaining species, owing to which the state has the quality of virtue;\nwhat can it be? It is plain that it is justice. It is plain. Ought we\nnot then, Glaucon, like huntsmen, closely surrounding a thicket, to take\ngreat care that justice does not somehow or other escape, and vanish\nfrom our sight?\u2014for it is clear that it is somewhere here. Look\nearnestly, therefore, to spy it out, if you can any how see it sooner\nthan me, and then point it out to me. Would that I could, said he; but\nif you will use me rather as an attendant, and one able only to perceive\nwhat is pointed out to him, you will then be treating me just as you\nought. Call on the gods with me, said I, and follow. I will do so, said\nhe; do you only lead the way. To me, said I, this seems a place somehow\nhard of access, and overcast with shadow:\u2014it is indeed dark, and hard to\npenetrate;\u2014but still we must go on. We must, said he. And I perceiving,\nsaid, Ho! Ho! Glaucon, we seem to have some track; and I think that it\nwill not altogether escape us. You tell good news, said he. Verily, said\nI, our senses are somewhat blunted. As how? Long since, even from the\nfirst, my fine fellow, has it been rolling at our feet; and we perceived\nit not, but made the most ridiculous figure, like those who sometimes\nseek for what they already have in their hands:\u2014so we did not perceive\nit, but were looking out to a distance; and thus perhaps it escaped us.\nHow mean you? said he. Thus, said I;\u2014that I think, although we have been\nlong talking and hearing of it, we do not understand ourselves, as to\nthe manner in which we expressed it. A long preamble, said he, to one\nwho is eager to hear.\n\nCHAP. XI.\u2014Well now, said I, listen whether I say anything to the\npoint:\u2014for what we at first settled, when regulating the state, as what\nought always to be done,\u2014that, I think, or a species thereof, is\njustice:\u2014this surely we settled, and frequently mentioned, if you\nremember;\u2014that every one ought to apply himself to one thing, with\nreference to the state,\u2014to that, namely, to which his genius most\nnaturally inclines him? Yes, we did say so. And also, that attending to\none\u2019s own affairs, and not busying oneself about many things, is\njustice, and this we have not only heard from many others, but have\nfrequently said ourselves. We have said so. This then, my friend, said\nI, somehow seems to be justice, to attend to one\u2019s own business.\u2014Do you\nknow whence I infer this? No; pray tell me, said he. Besides what we\nhave already considered in the state,\u2014namely, temperance, fortitude, and\nwisdom,\u2014this, said I, seems to remain, which enables all these both to\nhave a being in the state and to afford safety to its indwellers as long\nas it continues therein; and we said likewise, that justice would be\nthat remaining part, if we found the other three. It must be so, said\nhe. But if, said I, you want to judge, which of these, by its presence\nin the state, will do it the greatest proportionate good; it would be\ndifficult to determine whether the coincidence of opinion between the\ngovernors and the governed, or the maintenance of legitimate opinion\namong the soldiers about what is dreadful, and what is not so,\u2014or what\nis wisdom and guardianship in the rulers,\u2014or whether this, by its\nexistence in the state, makes it proportionably best,\u2014namely, when child\nand woman, bond and free, artificer, magistrate, and subject, every one\nin short attends to his own business, and does not meddle. Yes, it is\nhard to decide, said he, of course. With reference, then, to the virtue\nof a state, that power which makes each person in it attend to his own\nbusiness, rivals, as it seems, its wisdom, temperance, and courage.\nUndoubtedly so, said he. Will you not then constitute justice as a\nco-rival with these, with reference to the virtue of a state? By all\nmeans. Consider, then, whether you agree with me in this: will you\nenjoin the rulers to give just decisions in judgment? Of course. And in\ngiving judgment, what else are they to aim at in preference to\nthis,\u2014namely, that no one shall have what belongs to others, or be\ndeprived of his own? No; they [must aim] at this. And [do they not aim\nat it,] when acting justly? Yes. And thus justice is acknowledged to be\nthe habitual practice of one\u2019s own proper and special work? It is so.\nSee then, if you agree with me:\u2014suppose a carpenter to take in hand the\nwork of a shoemaker, or a shoemaker the work of a carpenter, exchanging\neither their tools or wages; or if the same man undertake both, and make\nall the other exchanges; think you that the state would be much injured?\nNot very much, said he. But methinks, if a craftsman, or one born to a\nmoney-getting employment, should afterwards, through being elated by\nwealth, popularity, strength, or any thing else of the kind, try to\nadvance into the military class, or out of the military class into that\nof counsellor and guardian, when unworthy of it,\u2014and these should\nexchange tools and rewards; or if the same man should undertake to do\nall these things at once; then, I suppose, you will be of opinion, that\nthis interchange of things and this multiplicity of employments by a\nsingle person is the destruction of the state. By all means. A meddling\nspirit, then, in these three classes, and the change from one to\nanother, is the greatest injury to the state, and may be most correctly\ncalled its depravity. Aye, truly so. But will not you say that injustice\nis the greatest ill a state can do itself? Of course. This then is\ninjustice.\n\nCHAP. XII.\u2014Again we say, as follows: The peculiar occupation of the\nmoney-getting, the auxiliary, and the guardian class, when each of them\ndoes his own work in a state, will be the contrary of the other, that is\njustice, and will make the state just. The case appears to me, said he,\nto be no otherwise than thus. Let us not as yet, said I, affirm this for\ncertain: but if it shall be conceded by us, that this kind enters into\neach individual, and that there is justice, we will then agree; for what\nshall we say? but if not, then we must push our inquiries further.\u2014But\nnow let us finish the inquiry on which we were engaged,\u2014namely, whether,\nin judging, we should be better able, by first contemplating justice in\nsome of the greater objects that possess it, to distinguish its nature\nin a single man, and that as a state appeared to us this very object; we\nthus therefore formed it as well as we possibly could, in the assurance\nthat justice would be found in one that is good. As to what we have\ndiscovered in the state, then, let us now transfer and apply it to a\nsingle person; and if the two correspond, it will be well; but if there\nbe any difference in the individual, we will go back again to the state,\nand put it to the test; and, perhaps, in considering them side by side,\nand by striking them, we shall make justice shine forth, like fire from\nflints; and when once clearly apparent, we can then firmly establish it\namong ourselves. Aye, you are speaking quite in the right way, said he;\nand thus, too, we must act.\n\nWith respect then, said I, to what may be termed the same, whether\ngreater or less, does it happen to be dissimilar in that respect in\nwhich we call it the same, or is it similar? Similar, said he. The just\nman then, said I, will not at all differ from the just state, as\nrespects the idea of justice, but will be similar to it. Aye, similar,\nsaid he. However a state appeared to be just, because three kinds of\ndispositions being in it, each performed its own work; but it appeared\nto be temperate, brave, and wise, on account of certain other affections\nand habits of these very same kinds. True, said he. And in that case, my\nfriend, we shall deem it proper, that the individual, who has these very\nsame principles in his soul (namely, temperance, fortitude, wisdom),\nshould have a good right, from having the same affections with the\nstate, to be called by the same names? He needs must, said he. Here\nagain, my clever fellow, we have fallen into a trifling discussion[156]\nabout the soul, whether it does or does not contain within itself these\nthree principles. I do not think it is a trifling one, said he: for\nprobably, Socrates, the common saying is true, that things excellent are\ndifficult. They seem so, said I. And be assured of this at least,\nGlaucon, that, in my opinion, we shall never comprehend this matter\naccurately by such methods as we are now using in our conversation,\nbecause the road which really leads to it is longer and of greater\nextent: still we will consider it in a manner consistent with our former\ndisquisitions and inquiries. Ought we not to acquiesce in this? said he:\nfor to me at least, and for the present, it would be satisfactory\nenough. Aye, and for me too, said I, it will be quite sufficient. Do not\nget tired then, said he; but pursue the inquiry. Is it then necessary,\nsaid I, that we should acknowledge the very same characters and manners\nto exist in every individual that are found in the state? because there\nis no other source whence they arrived thither. It were ridiculous,\nindeed, to imagine that the high spirit for which the Thracians,\nScythians, and nearly all the northern nations are reputed, does not\narise from individual personages; and the same may be said respecting\nthe love of learning, which one may especially deem natural to the\npeople of this country,\u2014or, with reference to the love of riches, which\nwe may say prevailed especially among the Ph\u0153nicians and the people of\nEgypt. Quite so, said he. It is so, of course, said I; and it is not\nhard of recognition. No, indeed.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 156:\n\n  Stallbaum reads\u2014\u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03c6\u03b1\u1fe6\u03bb\u03cc\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5 \u03c3\u03ba\u03ad\u03bc\u03bc\u03b1, which is the reading of the best\n  MSS., though the old editions read\u2014\u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03c6\u03b1\u1fe6\u03bb\u03cc\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5. The words are\n  spoken ironically.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XIII.\u2014This, however, is truly hard [to decide,] whether we perform\nour separate acts by one and the same power, or whether, as they are\nthree, we perform one by one, and another by another; that is, learn by\none, get angry by another, and by a third covet the pleasures of\nnutrition and propagation, and others akin to these; or whether, when we\ndevote ourselves to them, we act on each with the whole soul: these\nmatters are difficult adequately to determine. I think so too, said he.\nLet us try to define these things, whether they are the same with one\nanother, or different. How can we? It is plain that the same thing\nevidently cannot at the same time produce or experience contrary effects\nin the same respect, and relatively to the same object; so that, if we\never find anything thus occurring, we shall know that it was not one and\nthe same thing, but several. Granted. Attend now to what I am saying.\nProceed, replied he. Is it possible for the same thing, considered in\nthe same relation, to be both at rest and in motion? By no means. Let us\ndefine this more accurately still, lest, as we proceed, we be inclined\nto waver:\u2014for, if one were to say that, when a man stands, though yet\nmoving his hands and head, the same person is at once still and in\nmotion; we should not, I conceive, reckon this a correct mode of\nspeaking, but that one part of him is at rest, and another part in\nmotion:\u2014is it not so? Just so. But if a person arguing thus were to\nproceed jestingly and facetiously allege that tops are wholly at rest,\nbut yet are at the same time in motion, when, fixed on the same point,\nthey are whirled about their centre,\u2014or that anything else going round\nin a circle in the same position does the same,\u2014we should not admit it,\nas it is not in the same respect that they both stand still and are in\nmotion; but we should say that they have in them the straight line [_i.\ne._ the axis ] and the circumference; and that, with relation to the\naxis they are at rest (because it inclines to neither side); but with\nrelation to the circumference, they move in a circle:\u2014and again, if,\nwhile it is whirling round, its perpendicularity inclines either to the\nright or the left, forwards or backwards, then it is by no means at\nrest. Very right, said he. No assertion then of this kind will frighten\nus; nor shall any one persuade us, that anything, being one and the\nsame, can do and suffer contraries at one and the same time, in the same\nrespect, and relatively to the same object. Me, at any rate, he shall\nnot, said he. But once more, said I, not to be tedious in going over and\nrefuting all these quibbles, let us proceed on the supposition, that\nthis is really the case, acknowledging, also, that if at any time these\nthings are found to be different from what they now are, all that we\nhave gained will be lost. This then, said he, is what we must do.\n\nCHAP. XIV.\u2014Well then,\u2014nodding an assent, said I, and making a sign of\ndissent, desiring to take a thing and refusing it, attracting or\nrepelling\u2014will you reckon all such things contraries respectively,\nwhether actions or passions;\u2014for it matters not which? Contraries,\ncertainly, said he. What then, said I,\u2014thirst, hunger, and the desires\ngenerally,\u2014and further, to wish and to will, may not all these be\nconsidered as of the same kind with the species just mentioned?\u2014As for\ninstance, will you not always say of a man who desires, that his soul\naims after what it desires, or attracts to itself what it wishes to\nhave?\u2014-Or again, so far as the soul wishes something to be given to it,\ndoes it not make a sign for it, as if a person were asking for it,\nthrough desire of acquiring its possession? I should say so. But\nwhat?\u2014to be unwilling, not to wish, and not to desire,\u2014shall we not deem\nthem synonymous with repelling and driving off from the soul, and so all\nthings else that are contrary of the former? Of course. This being the\ncase, shall we say that there is a certain species of desires, and that\nthe most conspicuous are those which we call thirst and hunger? We shall\nsay so, he replied. Is not one the desire of drinking, the other of\neating? Yes. In the case of thirst then, is it, so far as it is thirst,\na desire in the soul of anything more than what we were saying; and as\nfar as thirst goes,\u2014is there a thirst for hot drink, or cold, for much\nor little, or in short for some particular kind of drink?\u2014or again, if\nheat be added to the thirst, will it not readily occasion a desire for\ncold drink; but if cold [be added to it,] then [a desire] for warm\ndrink: and if the thirst be great, owing to numerous causes, will it not\noccasion a desire for much drink, but if small, [a desire] for little;\nwhile as for the desire of thirst itself, it never becomes the desire of\nanything else, but of that only to which it naturally belongs,\u2014and so,\nalso, of hunger with reference to meat? Just so, said he, every desire\nbelongs in itself to that alone of which it is the desire; but whether\nthey be desires of such or such a particular kind, are adventitious\ncircumstances. Let no one then, said I, trouble us, as if we were\ninadvertent, [by objecting to us] that no one desires drink, but good\ndrink,\u2014nor meat, but good meat;\u2014inasmuch as all men desire what is good.\nIf then thirst be a desire, it is one of something good; whether it be\nof drink, or anything else whatever,\u2014and in the same way with all the\nother desires. Aye, perhaps, replied he, the man who says this may be\ndeemed to say something to the purpose. But in truth, said I, things\nnaturally relative, refer in each particular, as I think, to this or\nthat object, to which they belong, while in their individual character\nthey refer only to themselves individually. I do not understand, said\nhe. Do not you understand, said I, that greater is relatively greater\nthan something? Certainly. Is it not greater than the lesser? Yes. And\nthat which is much greater than that which is much less; is it not? Yes.\nAnd that which was formerly greater than that which was formerly less,\nand that which is to be greater than that which is to be less? Of\ncourse, said he. And in like manner, the more numerous has reference to\nthe less numerous, and the double to the half, and so in all such-like\ncases;\u2014and further, the heavier to the lighter, and the swifter to the\nslower; and further still, the hot to the cold; and all such like, are\nthey not thus related? Entirely so. But what as to the sciences;\u2014is not\nthe case the same?\u2014for, science itself is the science of pure learning,\nor of whatever else one sees fit to make it the science; while, on the\nother hand, a certain particular science, of a particular kind, refers\nto a certain particular kind, and also to a particular object. My\nmeaning is as follows:\u2014when the science of building houses arose, was it\nnot so far separated from the other sciences, as to acquire the name of\narchitecture? Of course. Was it not so, because it was of a kind like\nnone else? Yes. Was it not then from its being the art of such a\nparticular thing, that it became itself such a particular art;\u2014and are\nnot all other arts and sciences in like manner? They are so.\n\nCHAP. XV.\u2014Consider then, said I, that this is what I wanted to express,\nif you now understand me; namely, that things which are relative, taken\nby themselves alone, relate to themselves alone, but considered as of\nsuch a quality, relate to particular objects. I do not say, however,\nthat a science altogether resembles that of which it is the science; (as\nif, for example, the science of healthy and sickly were itself healthy\nand sickly, or the science of good and evil itself good and evil;) but\nas science is not constituted the science of that generally of which it\nis the science, but only of a certain quality of it (that is, of its\nhealthy and sickly state), so it comes to be itself a particular\nscience; and hence it is no longer called simply a science, but the\nmedicinal science, the particular class to which it belongs being\nsuperadded. I understand you, said he; and I think it is so. As for\nthirst then, said I, will you not class it among those things which have\nrelation to something else, so far as it is what it is? and is not\nthirst a thirst for something? I should, certainly, said he, for drink.\nAnd does not a particular thirst desire a particular drink?\u2014whereas\nthirst in general is neither of much nor of little, nor of good nor bad,\nnor, in one word, of any particular kind; but abstractly and in general,\nthe natural desire of drink. Assuredly. The soul of the man then who\nthirsts, so far as he thirsts, wishes nothing further than to drink; and\nthis he covets, and to this he hurries? Clearly so. If therefore, when\nthe soul is athirst, anything draws it back, must it not be some\ndifferent principle from that which excites thirst, and leads it as a\nwild beast to drink;\u2014since it is impossible, we say, for the same thing,\nby itself, and at the same time, to produce contrary results from the\nsame cause? It is indeed impossible. Just as it is not proper, methinks,\nto say of an archer, that his hands at once propel and draw in the bow,\nbut that one of his hands propels it, and the other draws it in?\nAssuredly, said he. Can we say, then, that there are some, who when\nathirst are not willing to drink? Certainly, said he, many, and often.\nWhat then, said I, is one to say of these persons?\u2014Might it not be said,\nthat there is something in their soul that prompts them to drink, and\nlikewise something that restrains them, quite different, and that\nprevails over the prompting principle? I think so, said he. Does not the\nrestraining principle then, whenever it arises, arise from reason; while\nthose that lead and urge men onwards, proceed from affections and\nailments? It appears so. We shall not then, said I, be unreasonable in\ndefining these as distinctly two, and separate from one another, if we\ncall that with which one reasons, the rational part of the soul, but\nthat part with which it loves, and hungers, and thirsts, and is carried\naway by desires, the irrational and concupiscent part, as associated\nwith certain gratifications and pleasures. We shall not, said he; but we\nmay reasonably regard them in this light. Let these two then, said I, be\ndefined as distinct principles in the soul. But as to that of anger, and\nby which we are angry, is it a third principle, or is it of like nature\nwith one or other of these two? Perhaps, said he, with one of them, the\nconcupiscent. But I believe, said I, what I have somewhere\nheard:\u2014Leontius, son of Aglaion, as he was returning from the Pir\u00e6us,\nalong the outside of the northern wall, perceiving some dead bodies\nlying close to the place of public punishment,[157] had a desire to look\nat them, but yet at the same time revolted therefrom and turned away;\nand for a while he resisted, and covered his eyes, but, at last,\novercome by his desire, ran with eyes wide open towards the dead bodies,\nand said: \u201cHere now, ye wretched eyes of mine! glut yourselves with this\nfine spectacle.\u201d I too have heard it, said he. This story now shows,\nsaid I, that anger sometimes opposes the desires, as being distinct from\neach other. Yes, said he, it does show it.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 157:\n\n  Gr. \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u1f70 \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03b5\u03af\u1ff3, which admits of no concise rendering.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XVI.\u2014Do we not then in other cases, and very frequently, perceive,\nsaid I, when the appetites compel any one against his reason, that he\nreproaches himself, and is angry at the compelling principle within him;\nand that like two persons at variance, the anger of such a person\nbecomes an ally to reason; but that it sides with the desires when\nreason decides that no opposition is to be offered, you will say, I\nthink, that you have never perceived anything of this kind either in\nyourself, nor yet in any other? No, by Zeus, replied he. What then, said\nI, is it not the case, when a man imagines he is doing a wrong, that the\nmore generous he is, the less is he apt to be angry, however he may\nsuffer hunger or cold, or other like privations, from one, who, as he\nthinks, inflicts them with justice?\u2014And, as I have said, his anger will\nnot incline him to rise up against such an one. True, said he. But\nwhat;\u2014when a man thinks himself injured, does he not in this case boil\nwith rage and become indignant and ally himself on the side of what\nseems just; and under all the sufferings of hunger, cold, and the like,\ndoes he not bear up and strive to conquer; nor does he cease from his\ngenerous toils, until he has either accomplished them, or dies, or, like\na dog by the shepherd, is called off and pacified by the rational\nprinciple within him? Certainly, said he, it is precisely like what you\nsay; for, in our state, we appointed the auxiliaries to be obedient,\nlike dogs, to the state rulers, as being shepherds of the state. You\nquite understand, said I, what I mean to say:\u2014but have you considered\nthis also? What? That here apparently, as regards the irascible, the\nreverse takes place from what took place in the former instance,\u2014for\nthen we reckoned it the same as the concupiscent; but now we say it is\nfar from it, or rather that, in the sedition of the soul, it more\nwillingly arrays itself on the side of the rational part. Entirely so,\nsaid he. Is it then as something entirely distinct, or as a species of\nthe rational;\u2014so as that there are not three species, but only two in\nthe soul, the rational and concupiscent?\u2014or, as there were three species\nwhich completed the city, the money-getting, the auxiliary, the\ndeliberative; so, in the soul, is this irascible a third natural\nprinciple, auxiliary to the rational, when not corrupted by bad\neducation? Of course, it must, said he, be a third. Yes, said I, if at\nleast it seem at all different from the rational, just as it seemed to\nbe distinct from the concupiscent. Aye, that is not hard to see, said\nhe;\u2014and as a proof of this, one may see, even in little children, that\nquite from their infancy they are full of anger, while some of them, at\nleast in my opinion, never have any share in reason, the majority indeed\nonly arriving at it but late in life. Aye, truly, said I, you are right.\nAnd in the brute beasts, too, one may observe yet further, that what you\nsay is really the case; and besides this, it is attested also by what we\nformerly cited from Homer[158]\u2014\n\n          His breast he struck, and thus his heart reproved;\u2014\n\nfor, in this passage, Homer has plainly made one part reprove the other;\nthat part, namely, which reasons about good and evil, to reprove the\npart which is unreasonably angry. You are quite right, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 158:\n\n  Hom. Odyss. lib. xx. v. 17.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XVII.\u2014These things, said I, we have agreed to after some\ndifficulty; and it is now sufficiently acknowledged, that the same sort\nof principles that are in a state reside also in the soul of every\nindividual, and equal in number. Must it not, then, necessarily follow,\nthat in whatever manner the state is wise, and in whatever respect,\nafter the same manner and in the same respect, the individual is so\nalso? Of course. And in whatever respects, and after whatever manner,\nthe individual is brave, in the same respect, and after the same manner,\na state is brave also? and so in all other respects, both are the same\nas regards virtue? Necessarily so. And I think, Glaucon, it may be said\nthat a man is so just in the same way as a state is so. This also must\nneeds be the case. Aye; but have we not somehow or other forgotten this,\nthat the state is just, when every one of the three species in it does\nits own particular work? No, said he, I do not think we have forgotten\nthat point. We must remember then likewise, that each of us will be\njust, and do his own work, each part of whose soul does its own proper\nduty. Aye, said he, we must be sure to recollect that. Is it not proper,\nthen, that the rational part should govern, as being wise, and charged\nwith the care of the whole soul; and that the spirited part should obey\nand ally itself to the other? Certainly. Will not the mixture then, as\nwe said, of music and gymnastics, make the two to harmonize by exalting\nand nurturing the one with excellent arguments and good discipline,\nwhile it unbends the other by soothing and rendering it mild through\nharmony and rhythm? Assuredly, said he. And when these two are thus\nnurtured and have been truly taught and practised in their own affairs,\nthey will preside over the concupiscent part, which in every one\noccupies the largest part of the soul, and by its nature is insatiable\nof wealth; and they will take care, lest, having acquired growth and\nstrength by being filled with bodily pleasures, as they are termed, it\nbecome discontented with its own work, and so attempt to enslave and\nrule over those it ought not, and thus wholly upset the entire system of\nlife. Certainly, said he. And by this principle, said I, will not the\ntwo maintain a good guard against enemies from without, owing to their\njoint influence over both soul and body, the one laying down the plans,\nand the other fighting in obedience to its leader, and executing with\nfortitude the plans laid down? Such is the case. And I think we call a\nman brave, when, through all the pains and pleasures of life, the spirit\nmaintains the opinion dictated by reason about what is terrible, and\nwhat is not so. Right, said he. And we call a man wise, from that small\npart which governs him, and dictates this, inasmuch as it possesses the\nknowledge of what is expedient for each separately, and for the whole of\nthe three together. Certainly. And, do we not moreover term a man\ntemperate, from the association and harmony of these very principles,\nwhen the governing and governed agree in one,\u2014namely, when reason\ngoverns, and when the others are not at variance therewith? Temperance,\nsaid he, is no other than this, either as respects the state or the\nindividual. But he will be just, owing to those causes and in the manner\nwhich we have often before mentioned? He must. What then, said I; has\nanything blunted us, that we should regard justice as anything else than\nwhat it is seen to be in a state? Not in my opinion at least, said he.\nIn this manner then (if there yet remain any doubt in the soul), let us,\nby all means, satisfy ourselves by bringing the man into difficult\ncircumstances. As what? For instance, if we be compelled to declare,\nconcerning such a state and a man born and educated conformably thereto,\nwhether such a man, if intrusted with gold or silver, is likely to\nembezzle it,\u2014who do you think would imagine, that such an one would do\nit sooner than those of a different character? No one would, said he.\nWill not such an one then be free from sacrileges, thefts, and\ntreacheries, either privately against his friends, or publicly against\nthe state? He will. Nor will he ever, in any shape, be faithless, either\nas to his oaths, or other compacts? How should he. Adulteries, neglect\nof parents, and impiety against the gods, will be found then in any one\nrather than such a man as this? Aye, in any one else, truly, said he.\nAnd is not this the cause of all these things,\u2014that, of all the parts\nwithin him each separate one does its own work, as to governing and\nbeing governed? This is it, and nothing else. What else do you wish\njustice to be, except such a power as produces men and states like\nthese? Not I, truly, said he, for my part.\n\nCHAP. XVIII.\u2014Our dream then, which we conjectured, is at last\naccomplished; that on our very first attempt to found our state we have\napparently arrived by divine assistance at a principle and pattern of\njustice? Quite so. And that, Glaucon, was a certain image of justice,\nthat the man naturally fitted for the office of a shoemaker, should make\nshoes properly, and do nothing else; and that he also, who is a\ncarpenter, should do that work,\u2014and so also, of the rest. It appears so.\nIn truth, then, of such a kind was justice, as it seems; nor does it\nregard merely a man\u2019s external action, but what is really internal,\nrelating to the man himself, and what is properly his own; not allowing\nany principle in him to attempt what is another\u2019s province, or to meddle\nand interfere with what does not belong to it; but really well\nestablishing his own proper affairs, and maintaining proper\nself-government, keeping due order, becoming his own friend, and most\nnaturally attuning these three principles, as three musical strings,\nbase, tenor, and treble, or whatever others may intervene:\u2014thus will he\nbe led to combine all these together, and out of many to form one whole,\ntemperate, attuned, and able to perform whatever is to be done, either\nin acquiring wealth, or managing the body, or any public affair or\nprivate bargain, and in all these cases reckoning that action to be just\nand good, which always sustains and promotes this habit; and so also\ncalling the knowledge which presides over this action wisdom,\u2014and on the\ncontrary, calling that an unjust action, which destroys this habit,\u2014and\nthe opinion which presides over this, folly. Perfectly true, Socrates,\nsaid he. Be it so, said I:\u2014if then we should say, that we have found out\na just man and state, and the nature of justice in both, I think we\nshould not be considered altogether in error. No, by Zeus, said he. May\nwe assume it, then? We may.\n\nCHAP. XIX.\u2014Be it so, said I. But we were next, I think, to consider\ninjustice? Clearly so. Is it not then necessarily a kind of variance\nbetween the three principles, a kind of meddling and interfering spirit\nin things foreign to their proper business, and an insurrection of some\none principle against the whole soul, to govern where it is not its\nprovince, though it be really of such a nature, that it ought to be in\nsubjection to the governing principle? I imagine then we are to call\nthis tumult and error by some such names as these,\u2014injustice,\nintemperance, cowardice, folly, and in a word, all vices? Just so, said\nhe. To commit injustice then, said I, and to be injurious, and likewise\nto act justly, all these must be very manifest, if indeed injustice and\njustice are so. How? Because, said I, they do not differ from what is\nsalutary or noxious;\u2014as the latter are in the body, so are the former in\nthe soul. In what way? said he. Such things as are healthy produce\nhealth, and such as are noxious, disease. Yes. And does not acting\njustly produce justice,\u2014and acting unjustly, injustice? Necessarily so.\nTo produce health, however, is to establish everything in the body, so\nthat they shall mutually govern and be governed, conformably to\nnature,\u2014while the production of disease, on the other hand, consists in\none part governing and being governed by another, contrary to nature. It\nis indeed. Then again, said I, to produce justice, is it not to\nestablish all in the soul, so that its parts shall mutually govern and\nbe governed according to nature;\u2014and does not injustice consist in\ngoverning and being governed by one another contrary to nature? Plainly\nso, said he. Virtue then, as it seems, is a kind of health, beauty, and\ngood habit of the soul; and vice its disease, deformity, and infirmity?\nIt is so. Do not honourable pursuits then lead to the attainment of\nvirtue, but dishonourable to that of vice? They must. What remains for\nus to consider then is,\u2014whether it be profitable to act justly, and\npursue what is honourable, and to be just, and whether a man can be of\nsuch a character unconsciously or not;\u2014or to act unjustly, and to be\nunjust, though one be never punished, or reformed by correction? But,\nsaid he, Socrates, this inquiry seems, to me at least, quite\nridiculous;\u2014that if in a corrupt state of the body life be deemed not\nworth possession, not even though accompanied by all kinds of meats and\ndrinks, and all wealth and power, yet when the nature of the vital\nprinciple is disordered and thoroughly corrupted, life will then be\nworth having, though a man were to do everything else that he likes,\nexcept ascertaining how he shall get released from vice and injustice,\nand cultivate justice and virtue,\u2014since both these things have been\nproved such as we have represented them. Aye, it would be truly\nridiculous, said I. However, since we have arrived at such a point as\nenables us most distinctly to perceive that these things are so, we must\nnot get weary. On no account, by Zeus, said he, must we be weary. Come\nthen, said I, and let us see also how many principles vice\npossesses,\u2014principles indeed that are worthy of attention. I am all\nattention, said he;\u2014only tell me. And truly now, said I;\u2014since we have\nreached this part of our discourse, it appears to me, as to one looking\nfrom a height, that there is but one principle of virtue, while those of\nvice are infinite:\u2014and of these there are four, particularly deserving\nof mention. How say you? replied he. There seem to be as many classes of\nthe soul as there are forms of government. How many then? Five, said I,\nof governments, and five of the soul. Name them, said he. What we have\njust described, replied I, is one species of government; and it may have\na twofold appellation; for, if among the rulers one prevails over the\nrest, it may be termed a Monarchy,\u2014but if there be several, an\nAristocracy. True, said he. I call this then, said I, one species; for,\nwhether there be several, or whether it be but one who governs, they\nwill never alter the principal laws of the state,\u2014because they will\nobserve the nature and education we have described. It is not likely,\nsaid he.\n\n\n                      THE END OF THE FOURTH BOOK.\n\n\n                                BOOK V.\n\n                               ARGUMENT.\n\nIn the _fifth_ book he shows how the magistracy is to be constituted, so\n    as to establish a prosperous state. True philosophy, says he, is its\n    basis; and this, so far from being superficial and affecting only\n    the outward bearing and life of the citizens, turns the mind away\n    from all these fleeting subjects to that which is real, positive,\n    and consistent with the knowledge of God. Carrying the subject\n    somewhat back, therefore, he considers in detail the subject-matter\n    of philosophy, proving that it is the knowledge both of virtue and\n    of God, both of which are indispensable to a well-ordered state, in\n    which either philosophers must be rulers or _vice vers\u00e2_. As however\n    he had said in the third book, that a state\u2019s welfare depended on\n    the community of ideas and of property, he now shows in detail, how\n    the duties of men and women are common in a state, and how\n    consequently themselves and their property too should be common,\u2014a\n    notion which Aristotle rather severely handles in the second book of\n    the Politics (ch. 3), where he says, that, though the state be one,\n    but with this restriction, that we must bear in mind that to\n    different men belong different dispositions, and if \u03b5\u1f50\u03c4\u03b1\u03be\u03af\u03b1 is\n    gently to be maintained, we must specially guard against confusion\n    and unnecessary interference, the certain means of downfal to a\n    state.\n\nCHAP. I.\u2014Such a state and government then, and such a man as we have\ndescribed, I term good and upright: and if this government be an upright\none, I reckon the others bad and erroneous, both as to the regulations\nin states, and the establishment of the moral nature in individuals,\ninasmuch as there are four species of depravity.[159] Of what kind are\nthese? said he. I was about to mention them in order, as they each\nappeared to me to rise one out of another; but Polemarchus stretching\nout his hand\u2014(for he sat a little further off than Adimantus,)\u2014caught\nhim by the robe at his shoulder, and drew him near; and, bending towards\nhim, he spoke something in a whisper, of which we heard nothing but\nthis: Shall we let that pass, then? said he, or what shall we do? By no\nmeans, said Adimantus, now speaking aloud. And I replied, What will not\nyou let pass? You, indeed, said he:\u2014for it was to you I alluded. You\nseem to us to be getting careless and to be stealing through a whole\nbranch of the discourse, and that not the least important, that you may\nnot have the trouble of going through it; and you think you escaped our\nnotice, when you made this speech so simply, viz., that it is clear to\nevery one both as to wives and children, that whatever belongs to\nfriends will be common. Did not I say right, Adimantus? Yes, said he:\nbut this, which was rightly said, like the rest of your discourse,\nrequires explanation;\u2014namely, to show what is the mode of that\ncommunity; for there must be many:\u2014do not omit saying then which mode\nyou mean; for we have been expecting it for some time past, thinking you\nwould, some time or other, speak of the propagation of children, how\nthey are to be propagated;\u2014and when born, how they should be brought up,\nand everything relating to this community that you were mentioning both\nof wives and children; for we suppose it to be of great, nay\u2014paramount\nimportance to the state, whether this be rightly performed or not. Now\nthen, since you are taking in hand another kind of state-government\nbefore you have sufficiently discussed this, we have determined, as you\njust heard, not to let you pass, without going over all these things, as\nyou did the others. And me too you may reckon, said Glaucon, as joining\nin this vote. Be quite sure, Socrates, said Thrasymachus, that this is\nthe opinion of us all.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 159:\n\n  The argument here interrupted respecting the four kinds of depravity,\n  individually or in states, is resumed at the commencement of the\n  eighth book.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. II.\u2014What have you done, said I, in seizing me thus? What a mighty\ntalk is this you are again raising, as you did at the beginning, about\nyour republic, which I was so glad at having completely described,\npleased [to think] that any one would let these things pass, and admit\nwhat was then said!\u2014And as to what you now challenge me to, you know not\nwhat a swarm of disputes you are stirring up: I foresaw them, and let\nthem pass at that time, for fear of making a great disturbance. What\nthen, said Thrasymachus, think you that these are now come hither to\nmelt gold, and not to hear reasonings?[160] Aye, said I, but in\nmoderation. As for moderation, Socrates, said Glaucon, the whole of life\nserves for hearing such reasonings as these:\u2014but let pass what relates\nto us; and as to what we are inquiring, do not begrudge explaining what\nyou think about it,\u2014what sort of community of wives and children is to\nbe observed by our guardians, and how the latter ought to be reared\nwhile very young, in the period between their birth and their education,\nwhich seems to be the most troublesome of all. Try and tell us now, how\nthat is to be accomplished. It is not easy, my good fellow, said I, to\ndescribe them; for many of them are very hard to be believed, even more\nthan those we have before described; for even their possibility we might\nwell disbelieve; and even were they possible, one might still doubt,\nwhether they would best be done in this particular way:\u2014on this account,\nmy dear friend, I somewhat hesitate to touch on these topics, lest our\nreasoning appear to be a mere wish, rather than absolute reality. Do not\nhesitate now, said he; for your hearers are neither unreasonable, nor\nincredulous, nor ill-disposed. Now, my very good Glaucon, said I, is it\nwith the desire of reassuring me, that you say this? I do, said he. Then\nyou have produced quite a contrary effect, said I; for could I trust to\nmyself, that I thoroughly know what I am to say, your encouragement\nwould have been quite right; for among intelligent and friendly persons,\none who understands the truth, may speak with safety and confidence\nabout the most important matters; but when one speaks, as of course I\ndo, with diffidence and a sort of searching spirit, there is both fear\nand danger, not only of being exposed to ridicule (for that is but a\ntrifling thing), but lest, mistaking the truth, I not only fall myself,\nbut draw my friends along with me into an error about matters, in which\nwe ought least of all to be mistaken. I conjure Adrasteia,[161]\ntherefore, Glaucon, with respect to what I am going to say:\u2014For I hope\nit is a smaller offence to be unintentionally a murderer, than an\nimpostor about what is good and excellent, just and lawful: and as for\nthis risk, it were better to risk it among enemies than friends; so that\nyou are not giving me proper encouragement. Then said Glaucon, laughing:\nAye, but Socrates, even if we should suffer aught amiss from your\ndiscourse, we acquit you as clear of homicide, and as no impostor: so\nproceed boldly. But the man, said I, who is acquitted in a court of\njustice is, at any rate, deemed clear of the crime, as the law says; and\nif it be so in that case, it should be so in this. As respects this\nthen, said he, pray proceed. We must now, said I, once more return to\nwhat perhaps in strict order should have been considered before; and\nthus perhaps it would be correct, after having entirely completed the\nmen\u2019s part, to complete also the women\u2019s; especially since you challenge\nme to do so.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 160:\n\n  The verb \u03c7\u03c1\u03c5\u03c3\u03bf\u03c7\u03bf\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd is used proverbially to indicate the entertaining\n  of great hopes that are afterwards unfulfilled.\n\nFootnote 161:\n\n  Adrasteia or Nemesis was a daughter of Zeus, and regarded as the\n  punisher of murderers and homicides,\u2014even those involuntarily so. See\n  Blomfield\u2019s note to \u00c6schyl. Prom. v. 972.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. III.\u2014Men who have been born and educated as we have described,\ncannot, in my opinion, otherwise rightly acquire and employ their wives\nand children than by following the same track, in which we have\nproceeded from the beginning: for we surely undertook, in our argument,\nto represent men as the guardians of a flock. Yes. Let us proceed then,\nto give the children a corresponding birth and education; and let us\nconsider, whether it be proper for us or not. How? replied he. Thus: Are\nwe to reckon it proper for the females among our guardian dogs to watch\nand hunt, and do everything else in common with the males; or rather to\nmanage domestic affairs within doors, as being disabled from other\nexercises on account of bearing and nursing the whelps, while the males\nare to labour and take the entire charge of the flocks? All in common,\nsaid he; except that we employ the females as the weaker, and the males\nas the stronger. Is it possible then, said I, to employ an animal for\nthe same purposes [with another,] without giving it the same nurture and\neducation? It is not possible. If therefore, we are to employ the women\nfor the same purposes as the men, must we not give them also the same\nkind of instruction? Yes. Were both music and gymnastics bestowed on the\nmales? Yes. To the women too, then, we must impart these two arts, and\nthose likewise that refer to war; and we must employ them in the same\nmanner. It is probable from what you say, said he. Perhaps, however,\nsaid I, many things, concerning what we are now speaking, may appear\nridiculous, because contrary to custom,\u2014if they shall be practised in\nthe way now mentioned. Quite so, replied he. But which of them, said I,\ndo you conceive to be the most ridiculous? Would it not clearly be to\nbehold the women naked in the pal\u00e6stra wrestling with the men, and not\nonly the young women, but even those more advanced in years, just like\nthe old men in the wrestling-schools, who are still fond of the\nexercises, though wrinkled, and not at all comely to the eye? Aye, by\nZeus, said he; it would appear truly ridiculous, as present fashions go.\nOught we not then, said I, since we have entered on this discourse, to\nfear the raillery of wits, which they would probably bestow pretty\nabundantly on such innovations [as respects exercising the women] in\ngymnastics, music, and more especially in the use of arms, and the\nmanagement of horses? You say right, he replied. But since we have\nentered on this discourse, let us go to the rigour of the law, and beg\nthese men not to be the slaves of prejudice, but to think seriously, and\nremember, that not long since the sight of naked men appeared base and\ndisgusting to the Greeks, just as now indeed it does to most of the\nbarbarians: and when first the Cretans, and afterwards the\nLaced\u00e6monians, began their exercises, the wits of that day might have\nmade a jest of all this: do not you think so? I do. But methinks, when\nthose experienced in the art thought it better to strip themselves, than\nto cover up such parts, the merely apparent ridiculousness of the thing\nis set aside by the advantage stated in our reasoning; and this, too,\nmanifestly shows that the man is a fool who deems anything ridiculous\nexcept what is bad, and tries to run down as ridiculous any other idea\nbut that of the foolish and the vicious, or employs himself seriously\nwith any other end in view but that of the good. Assuredly, said he.\n\nCHAP. IV.\u2014Must we not then, first of all, agree on this,\u2014whether these\nthings be possible or not;\u2014and set forth a question, whether any one,\neither in jest or earnest, can doubt, if the human nature in the female\ncan in all cases share with the male, or in no case share at all; or in\nsome cases, but not in others; and this too with reference to what\nconcerns war? Would not the man who thus sets out so also probably\nconclude? Certainly, said he. Do you wish then, said I, that we should\nargue against ourselves about these things, in order that the opposite\nside may not, if attacked, be destitute of defence? Nothing hinders,\nsaid he. Let us then say this for them: There is no need, Socrates and\nGlaucon, for others to dispute with you about this matter; for\nyourselves, in first establishing your state, agreed that each\nindividual ought to practise one business, according to his particular\ntalent. We did so agree, I think; for how could we do otherwise? Does\nnot then the nature of a woman differ widely from that of a man? Of\ncourse it differs. And is it not right to allot to each a different\nwork, according to the nature of each? Of course. Are not you in the\nwrong then, and do you not contradict yourselves, in saying that men and\nwomen ought to do the same things, with natures so widely different?\nHave you any answer to make against this, my clever Glaucon? To do so on\nthe moment is no such easy matter, said he; but I will entreat you, and\nI do so now, to unravel the arguments on our side, whatever they may be.\nThese, Glaucon, replied I, and many other such things, are what I long\nago foresaw; and I was both afraid and unwilling to touch on the law\nconcerning the possession of wives and the education of children. No, by\nZeus, replied he, it seems no easy matter. Certainly not, said I. The\ncase, however, is thus: If a man fall into a small fish-pond, or quite\ninto the ocean itself, still he has to swim no less. Certainly. Let us\ntoo, then, swim, and try to escape from this argument, expecting that\neither some dolphin[162] will rescue us, or that we shall have some\nother remarkable deliverance? It seems we ought, replied he. Come then,\nsaid I;\u2014let us see, if we can anywhere find an outlet; for we\nacknowledged that different natures ought to study different things, and\nthat the natures of a woman and a man are different; yet now we say,\nthat different natures ought to study the same things:\u2014do you accuse us\nof this? Just so. How admirable, Glaucon, said I, is the power of the\nart of disputing! How? Because, replied I, many seem to fall into it\nunwillingly, supposing that they are not cavilling, but reasoning truly,\nowing to their inability to divide a subject rightly and investigate it\naccording to its species; but following the literal sense, they pursue\nwhat is quite contradictory to their subject, making use of cavilling\ninstead of argument. This is indeed the case with many, said he; but\ndoes that extend likewise to us in the present instance? Quite so, said\nI; for I think, that without meaning it, we have fallen into a\ncontradiction. How? Because we have very boldly and disputatiously\nasserted, that unless persons\u2019 natures are the same, they ought not to\nhave the same employments; though we have not at all inquired the sort\nof difference and identity of the nature [here referred to,] and with\nreference to which we defined them, when we ascribed different pursuits\nto different natures, and to the same natures the same pursuits. No\ncertainly, said he, we did not consider that. It would seem then,\nreplied I, that we may still ask ourselves the question, whether the\nnature of the bald and those who wear hair be the same and not\ndifferent;\u2014and if we agree that it be different, whether, if the bald\nmade shoes, we should let those who wear hair make them;\u2014or if again,\nthose who wear hair [made them, whether we should allow] the others [to\ndo so likewise]? That were ridiculous, replied he. Is it then\nridiculous, said I, for any other reason than that we did not then in\ngeneral define the sameness and diversity of natures, but observed only\nthat species of diversity and sameness, which respects their peculiar\nfunctions, just as we say that a physician, and a man who has a genius\nfor being a physician, have one and the same nature? Do not you think\nso? I do. But have the physician and the carpenter a different [nature]?\nMost assuredly.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 162:\n\n  Allusion is here made to the fable of Arion,\u2014or if not to that, to the\n  vulgar notion that the dolphin was particularly friendly to man. See\n  Plin. Hist. Nat. ix. 8.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. V.\u2014In that case, said I, as regards the natures of men and women,\nif they appear different, with respect to any art, or other employment,\nwe are supposed to assign to each separately his proper employment:\u2014but\nif it appear to differ only in this,\u2014namely, that the female bears\nchildren, and the male begets them,\u2014we must not say that it has at all\nas yet been proved that a man differs from a woman in the sense of which\nwe are speaking, and we must still think, that both our guardians and\ntheir wives may pursue the same employments. And with reason, said he.\nAfter this, then, should we not require any one who says the contrary,\nto inform us on this point,\u2014what is that art or function in the\narrangements of a state, where the nature of a man and woman is not the\nsame, but different? A reasonable demand, too. Perhaps then some one may\nreply, as you said some time since, that it is not easy all at once to\nexplain this sufficiently, but yet no hard matter for one who has\nconsidered it? Yes,\u2014one might well say so. Do you wish then, that we\nshould request such an opponent to follow us, while we try to show him,\nthat there is no function peculiar to a woman in the management of a\nstate? By all means. Come then (we will say to him), answer us:\u2014did you\nnot mean that one man has a natural talent for anything, and another\nnot, in this respect,\u2014namely, that one learns a thing easily, and\nanother with difficulty; and one with a little instruction discovers\nmuch in what he learns, while another, after much instruction and care,\ndoes not retain even what he has learned; and that with the one, the\nbody is duly subservient to the mind; while in the other it is opposed\nto it?\u2014Well, and what other marks are there besides these, by which you\nwould distinguish a man that has particular talents from him that has\nnone at all? One cannot mention any other, said he. Know you then of any\nfunction performed by mankind, in which the males have not all these\ncharacteristics in a superior degree to the females;\u2014and would it not be\ntedious to specify particularly the weaving art, and the making of\npastry and spice-meats, for which female talents seem to have some\nrepute, and cannot be surpassed without the greatest disgrace? You are\nright, said he, in saying that in all things universally the talent of\nthe one is superior to that of the other;\u2014yet many women are superior in\nmany respects to many men; though, on the whole, it is as you say. There\nis no function, my friend, then, among the entire members of our state\nthat is peculiar to woman, considered as such, nor to man, considered as\nsuch; but natural talents are indiscriminately diffused through both,\nand the woman naturally shares in all offices, the same as the man,\nthough in all cases the woman is weaker than the man. Certainly. Are we\nthen to commit all [state concerns] to the men, and none to the women?\nHow should we? It is true then, I think (as we say), that one woman too\nis fitted for being a physician, and another not so,\u2014one is musical,\nanother by nature unmusical. How otherwise? And is one fitted for\ngymnastics and warlike,\u2014another not fitted either for war or gymnastics?\nThat is my opinion too. And what;\u2014is not one a lover of philosophy, and\nanother averse to it; and one high-spirited, and another timid? This is\ntrue, too. And is not one woman naturally suited for being a guardian,\nand another not so;\u2014and have we not made choice of such a talent as this\nfor our guardian men? Yes\u2014just of such as this. The nature then of the\nwoman and of the man, as respects the guardianship of the state, is the\nsame,\u2014only that the one is weaker, the other stronger. So it seems.\n\nCHAP. VI.\u2014Women such as these then are to be chosen to dwell with such\nmen, and to be their fellow-guardians,\u2014inasmuch as they are naturally\nsuited for them, and of kindred talents. Certainly. And must not the\nsame employments be assigned to the same natures? The same. We have now\ngot round then, to our former point; and, we allow that it is not\ncontrary to nature, to allot to the wives of our guardians the study\nboth of music and gymnastics? Assuredly. We did not establish then what\nis impossible, or to be only vainly wished for, when we established the\nlaw according to nature:\u2014and it would seem rather, that what is at\npresent contrary to these things is contrary to nature? It seems so. Was\nnot then our inquiry, whether our establishment was possible and best?\nIt was. And we have agreed, that it is possible? Yes. And we must next\nbe convinced, that it is best? Clearly so. In order, therefore, that a\nwoman may become a suitable guardian, there will not be one mode of\neducation for making men [guardians,] and another for women, especially\nas the latter have received the same natural genius? No,\u2014it will not be\ndifferent. What think you then of such an opinion as this? Of what? That\nof imagining in your own mind, that one man is better and another\nworse;\u2014or do you deem them to be all alike? By no means. In the state\nthen which we were just establishing,\u2014which of the two do you think to\nmake the better men,\u2014the guardians provided with this education we have\ndescribed, or shoemakers that are taught shoemaking? That question,\nreplied he, is ridiculous. I understand you, said I:\u2014but, tell me; of\nall the other citizens, are not they the best? By far. But what;\u2014will\nnot these women too be the best of women? They will, replied he, by far.\nIs there anything better in a state, than that both women and men be\nrendered the very best? There is not. And this is to be effected by\nmusic and gymnastics being imparted to them, as we have described? Of\ncourse. We have been establishing then a law, which is not only\npossible, but best also for the state? Just so. We must unclothe, then,\nthe wives of our guardians, since they are to put on virtue for\nclothes;[163] and they must bear a part in war, and all other\nguardianship of the state, and do nothing else:\u2014but of these special\nservices the lightest part is to be allotted to the women rather than\nthe men, on account of the weakness of their sex:\u2014and the man who laughs\nat naked women while going through their exercises with a view to the\nbest object, reaps the unripe fruit of a ridiculous wisdom, and seems\nnot rightly to know at what he laughs, or why he does it:[164]\u2014for that\never was and will be deemed a noble saying, that the profitable is\nbeautiful, and the hurtful base. Assuredly.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 163:\n\n  The expression of Herodotus, Clio, ch. 8, is not dissimilar:\u2014\u1f05\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b4\u1f72\n  \u03c7\u03b9\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\u03b9 \u1f10\u03ba\u03b4\u03c5\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u1ff3 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03b4\u03cd\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03b1\u1f30\u03b4\u03c9 \u03b3\u03c5\u03bd\u03ae.\n\nFootnote 164:\n\n  The cited words\u2014\u1f00\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u1fc6 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b4\u03c1\u03ad\u03c0\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03c0\u03cc\u03bd are from Pindar. See.\n  Stob\u00e6us, Serm. ccxi. p. 711, and Boeck\u2019s Pindar, vol. ii. part 2, p.\n  669.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. VII.\u2014We may say then, that we have escaped one wave, as it were,\nby thus settling the law with respect to women, and have not been quite\noverwhelmed, through determining that our male and female guardians are\nto manage all things in common:[165] and besides that, our reasoning has\nbeen consistent with itself, as respects both what is possible and\nadvantageous also. Truly, it is no small wave you have escaped, said he.\nYou will not call it a great one, replied I, when you see what follows.\nTell me, said he; and let me see. After this enactment, replied I, and\nthe others formerly mentioned, the following, I think, comes naturally.\nWhich is that? That these women be all common to all these men, and that\nno one woman dwell with any man privately, and that their children\nlikewise be common;\u2014so that neither shall the parents know their own\nchildren, nor the children their parents.[166] This, in comparison with\nthe other, is far more difficult to persuade, both as to its possibility\nand utility. I do not think, replied I, as to its utility at least, that\nany one would doubt about it being a very great good to have the women\nand children in common, if it were but possible:\u2014but the greatest\nquestion, methinks, will be, whether it be possible or not? One might\nvery well, said he, raise a discussion on both points. You are\nmentioning, replied I, a combination of discussions; but I thought, at\nleast, that I should escape from one of them, if its utility had been\nagreed on, and that in that case it would only have remained to consider\nits possibility. But you have not slunk off, said he, quite unobserved;\nand so, give us an account of both. I must submit to a trial, said\nI:\u2014indulge me thus far, however: let me feast myself, as the slow in\nintellect are wont to feast themselves, when they walk alone:\u2014for men of\nthis sort, I imagine, ere finding out how to attain what they desire,\nwaive that inquiry, in order that they may not tire themselves in\ndeliberating about its possibility or impossibility, supposing they have\nobtained what they desire, and then they go through what\nremains,\u2014rejoicing, also, to recount what they will do, when it has\nhappened, and rendering their soul, otherwise indolent, more indolent\nstill. Now I too am become languid, and would, therefore, defer such\ndebates, and inquire afterwards into the possibility of these\n[arrangements]. At present, however, supposing them possible, I will, if\nyou please, consider how our rulers are to regulate matters thence\narising, in order that the doing of these things may be most\nadvantageous both to the state and the guardians:\u2014this, first, I will\ntry to examine with your assistance, and the other question afterwards,\nif you allow me. Oh, I will give you leave, said he;\u2014so pray proceed\nwith your inquiry.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 165:\n\n  The figure here used bears some resemblance to that used in ch. iv. of\n  this book, p. 453 d:\u2014\u1f04\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03bc\u03b2\u03ae\u03b8\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd \u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u1f70\u03bd \u1f10\u03bc\u03c0\u03ad\u03c3\u1fc3, \u1f04\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2\n  \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03ad\u03bb\u03b1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bc\u03ad\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd, &c.\n\nFootnote 166:\n\n  This peculiar notion on the community of wives and children is\n  severely handled by Aristotle, Polit. ii. ch. 2, and Hist. Anim. ix.\n  1. It seems probable, however, that Plato did not intend here entirely\n  to destroy all domestic ties whatever, but to inculcate a general\n  community of goods as far as possible,\u2014as most conducive to civil\n  concord and national prosperity. Compare, however, the opening of the\n  ninth chapter of this book. The fact is, that the question is here\n  viewed simply in its physical, not in its moral relations.\n\n-----\n\nI imagine then, said I, if our rulers will be worthy of that name, and\nthose also who are their auxiliaries, that the latter will cheerfully do\nwhatever they are bidden, while the former will take the command, giving\ntheir directions in some matters conformably to the laws, and imitating\ntheir spirit in whatever matters we leave to their sole guidance. Very\nlikely, said he. Do you then, their lawgiver, said I, as you have chosen\nout the men, so choose out also the women, making them, as far as\npossible, of similar dispositions:\u2014and these, as they dwell and eat\ntogether in common, and none possesses anything whatever in private,\nwill be always together;\u2014and as they mingle in the gymnastic yards and\nin all their other training exercises, they will, I think, be led by\ninnate necessity, to mutual intimacies:\u2014do not you think I am speaking\nof what must necessarily happen? Not, replied he, by any geometrical\nnecessity, but by one founded on love, which seems to be more cogent\nthan the other, in persuading and winning over the bulk of mankind.\n\nCHAP. VIII.\u2014Quite so, said I; but in the next place, Glaucon, to form\nirregular intimacies, or to do anything else of the same character, is\nnot at all right in a city of happy persons, nor ought the rulers to\nallow it. No, it were not just, said he. It is evident, by right, in the\nnext place, to make marriages as far as possible sacred; and those most\nadvantageous would be sacred. Altogether so. How then are they to be\nmost advantageous? Tell me this, Glaucon;\u2014for in your house I see both\nsporting dogs, and a great number of well-bred birds; have you, by Zeus,\never attended to their pairing, and bringing forth young? How? said he.\nFirst of all, among these, though all be well-bred, are not some of them\nfar better than all the rest? They are. Do you breed then from all\nalike; or are you anxious to do so, as far as possible, from the best\nbreeds? From the best. But how; from the youngest or the oldest, or\nthose quite in their prime? From those in their prime. And if they are\nnot thus bred, you consider that the breed both of birds and dogs\ngreatly degenerates? I do, replied he. And what think you as to horses,\nsaid I, and other animals;\u2014is the case otherwise with respect to these?\nIt were absurd [to think so,] said he. How strange, my dear fellow, said\nI; what extremely perfect governors must we have,\u2014if the same applies to\nthe human race! Nevertheless, it is so, replied he; but what then?\nBecause, said I, they must necessarily use many medicines; but as for a\nphysician, where the body does not want medicines, but men willingly\nsubject themselves to a regimen of diet, we think that an inferior and\nless skilful one may suffice; but when there is need for taking\nmedicines, we know that we want a more able physician. True; but with\nreference to what do you say this? With reference to this, replied I: it\nseems likely that our rulers must use an abundance of lying and deceit\nfor the advantage of the governed; and we said somewhere, that all these\nthings were useful in the way of a remedy. Rightly too, said he. This\napparent right now seems by no means inconsiderable in marriages and the\npropagation of children. How so? It necessarily follows, said I, from\nwhat has been acknowledged, that the best men should as often as\npossible form alliances with the best women, and the most depraved men,\non the contrary, with the most depraved women; and the offspring of the\nformer is to be educated, but not of the latter, if the flock is to be\nof the most perfect kind:\u2014and this must be so done, as to escape the\nnotice of all but the governors themselves, if at any rate the whole\nband of the guardians is to be as free as possible from sedition. Quite\nright, said he. Are there not to be festivals legally established, in\nwhich we shall draw together the brides and bridegrooms;\u2014and must not\nthere be sacrifices, and hymns composed by our poets suitable to the\nmarriages in course of celebration?\u2014But as to the number of the\nmarriages, this we will leave to the rulers, that they may as much as\npossible keep up the same number of men, having a regard both to wars\nand diseases, and all other such matters, so that as far as possible our\nstate may be neither great nor small. Right, said he. And chances too, I\nconceive, should be so well managed, that the depraved man may, on every\nturn of them, accuse his fortune, and not the governors. Of course, said\nhe.\n\nCHAP. IX.\u2014As for those youths, who distinguish themselves, either in war\nor other pursuits, they ought to have rewards and prizes given them, and\nthe most ample liberty of lying with women, that so, under this pretext,\nthe greatest number of children may spring from such parentage. Right.\nAnd as for the offspring born from time to time, are the authorities\npresiding over these matters to receive them, whether they be men or\nwomen, or both?\u2014for somehow these offices belong in common both to men\nand women. Yes, they do. As respects, then, the children of worthy\npersons, I think, they should carry them to some retirement, to certain\nnurses dwelling apart in a certain quarter of the city; but as for the\nchildren of the more depraved, and such of the rest as may be maimed or\nlame, they will hide them, as is right, in some secret and obscure\nplace. Yes, indeed, said he, if the race of guardians is to be pure.\nWill they not then take care also of their children\u2019s nurture, bringing\nto the nursery mothers with full breasts, taking every precaution that\nno woman should recognise her own child, and, where the mothers cannot\nsuckle them, providing others who would be able to do so? And they will\nbe careful also of this most particularly, that the nurses suckle only\nduring a proper time, and they will enjoin, both on the nurses and\nkeepers, their watching duties, and every other necessary toil. You\nspeak, said he, of a time of great ease to the wives of our guardians,\nin the breeding of children. Yes, for it should be so, replied I. But\nlet us next discuss what we were so anxious to do, when we said that the\nprocreation of children should take place among persons in the prime of\nlife. True. Do you agree with me then, that this prime season is at\ntwenty in a woman, and at thirty in a man? How do you reckon this time\nfor each sex? said he.[167] The woman, replied I, is to bear children to\nthe state from the age of twenty to that of forty; and the man, after\nhaving passed the most excitable period of his course, is from that\nperiod to beget children to the state up to the age of fifty-five. This\nindeed, is the prime, replied he, in both sexes, both as respects body\nand mind. If then any one, either older or younger than these, should\nemploy himself in begetting children for the commonwealth, we should say\nthat the trespass is neither right nor just, since he is begetting to\nthe state a child, which (if concealed) is born and grows up, ushered in\nneither by sacrifices nor prayers\u2014(which, on every marriage, the\npriestesses and priests, and the whole state offer, that the descendants\nof the good may be still better, and that from useful descendants others\nstill more useful may arise),\u2014but is born in darkness, and the result of\ndreadful incontinence. Right, said he. And the law, said I, must be the\nsame, if any of those men, who are yet of the age for procreation, have\nintercourse with women of a proper age, without the magistrate\u2019s leave;\nfor we may consider him as having raised to the state a bastard, born in\nadultery and unhonoured by religious auspices. Most right, said he. And\nI presume, whenever either the women or the men are past the age of\nprocreation, we are to let the men cohabit with any woman they like,\nexcept their daughter and mother, and the children of their daughters,\nor those upwards from their mother; and so likewise the women are to\nembrace any, except a son, a father, and the children of these, in\neither direction: all this liberty we are to grant them, after we have\nenjoined them to be careful, first, if a child be conceived, not to\nbring it to the light, but if, by accident, it should be brought forth,\nso to expose it as if there were no provision for it. All these things,\nsaid he, are reasonably said:\u2014but how are the fathers and daughters, and\nthe other relations you just mentioned, to be known to one another? They\nare not to be known at all, said I; but from the day on which any one is\nmarried, whatever children are born between the seventh or tenth month\nafter it, all these he is to call, the males his sons, and the females\nhis daughters, and they are to call him father; and in the same way\nagain, he is to call the children of these\u2014grandchildren; and they in\nturn are to call them grandfathers and grandmothers; and those who were\nborn during the period in which their fathers and mothers were begetting\nchildren, they shall call sisters and brothers, as I just observed,\u2014so\nthat they may have no sexual intercourse.\u2014But as for brothers and\nsisters, the law will allow them to live together,\u2014if their lot so fall,\nand the Pythian oracle give consent. Quite right, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 167:\n\n  The Greek (\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03bf\u1fd6\u03b1 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd) is very elliptical; but we agree with Cousin\n  in considering this to be its real meaning.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. X.\u2014This, and such as this, Glaucon, is the community of women and\nchildren, among the guardians of the state: and that this is consistent\nboth with the rest of our polity, and is by far the best, we must next\nestablish from reason;\u2014or how shall we do? By Zeus, just so, said he. Is\nnot this, then, the beginning of our agreement, to ask ourselves what we\ncan allege to be the greatest good for the establishment of a state,\nwith a view to which the lawgiver is to enact the laws, and what the\ngreatest evil,\u2014and next to examine, whether what we have hitherto\ndescribed tends to or conforms with the track of the good, and is\nopposed to that of the evil? Most certainly, said he. Is there, then,\nany greater evil for a state than that which tears it in pieces, and\nmakes it many instead of one;\u2014or, any greater good than that which binds\nit together, and makes it one? There is not. Does not then the communion\nboth of pleasure and pain bind men together, when the whole of the\ncitizens as much as possible rejoice and mourn in fellowship, for the\nsame matters, whether gainful or the contrary?[168] Assuredly, he\nreplied. And again, any mere private perception of such things dissolves\n[that union,] when some grieve exceedingly, and others rejoice\nexceedingly at the same events, either in the state or those composing\nit? Of course. Does not this then arise from the following\ncircumstance,\u2014when such words as these are not pronounced at the same\ntime in a state, as _mine_, and _not mine_; and with regard to what\nconcerns another, in the same way? Aye, surely. And the state, in which\nthe greatest number unite in saying of the same things, that _this\nconcerns me_, and _that does not concern me_,\u2014that is best regulated? By\nfar. And it is that also, which most closely resembles the individual\nman;\u2014just as, when a person\u2019s finger is wounded, the entire fellowship\nof feeling, extending through the body towards the soul, and producing\nthat harmony which is the work of the governing principle within it,\n[viz. the soul,][169] experiences a sensation, and at the same time\nwholly sympathizes with the ailing part; and thus we say that the man\nhas a finger-ache:\u2014and so also, with respect to any part whatever of the\nhuman frame, the same reasoning applies either with respect to grief,\nwhen a part is in pain, or with respect to pleasure, when it is at ease.\nAye, the very same, said he: and as to what you are asking, the state\nthat nearest approaches this is the best governed. When, therefore, any\nindividual citizen receives good or ill, such a state, methinks, will\nmost especially maintain that she herself is the party affected, and\nwill unite as a whole in joy or mourning. That must be the case, said\nhe, in a state, governed, at least, by good laws.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 168:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b3\u03b9\u03b3\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd, &c.\n\nFootnote 169:\n\n  Gr. \u1f45\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03c5 \u1f21\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b4\u03ac\u03ba\u03c4\u03c5\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03b3\u1fc7, \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b1 \u1f21 \u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd\u03af\u03b1 \u1f21 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c3\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1\n  \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03be\u03b9\u03bd \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f04\u03c1\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1fc7,\n  &c.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XI.\u2014It will be time perhaps for us to return to our state, and\nconsider as to the points on which we have agreed in our discussion,\nwhether they belong more particularly to our state than any other.\nYes,\u2014we must, he replied. What then? there are surely in other states,\nboth governors and people?\u2014and so also in this? There are. And will not\nall these address one another as citizens? Of course. But besides\ncalling them citizens, what do the people call their governors under the\nother forms of government? In most states, masters, but in democracies,\nthis very name governors. But what as to the people in our state?\nbesides citizens, what do they say their governors are? Saviours, said\nhe, and helpers. And what do they call the people? Paymasters, replied\nhe, and supporters. And in the other states, what do the governors call\ntheir people? Slaves, he replied. And what do the governors call one\nanother? Fellow-governors, said he. And ours, what? Fellow-guardians.\nCan you then tell about the governors in other states, whether any one\nof them can address one of his fellow-governors as an intimate, and\nanother as a stranger? Aye, very many can. Does he not then esteem and\nspeak of his intimate as his own, and the stranger as not his own? Just\nso. But how is it with your guardians? Is there any one of them, who can\nesteem or address any of his fellow-guardians as a stranger? By no\nmeans, he replied;\u2014for with whomever a person falls in, he will conceive\nthat he falls in with a brother or sister, or a father or mother, or a\nson or daughter, or their descendants or ancestry. You speak exceedingly\nwell, replied I:\u2014and further, tell me this also, whether you will give\nthem only a legal right to these familiar names,\u2014or rather bid them\nperform all their actions in accordance with these names, especially as\nrespects parents, whatever the law enjoins as the parents\u2019 due,\u2014such as\nreverence, and care, and obedience,\u2014it being otherwise not for his\nadvantage, either in the sight of God or of men, inasmuch as he would do\nwhat is neither holy nor just, if he acted otherwise than thus?\u2014Will\nthese, or other maxims coming from the whole body of our citizens, echo\nclose round the ears of our children, both about their parents, when\npointed out to them, and about other relations likewise? These [maxims\nmust so,] replied he; for it were ridiculous, if, without actions, their\nproper names were uttered by the mouth alone. Of all states then, in\nthis especially, when any one individual fares either well or ill, the\ncitizens will mostly agree in exclaiming, according to our late\nexpression,\u2014namely, \u201cMine fares well, or mine ill?\u201d Quite true, said he.\nDid we not say too, that agreeably to this opinion and expression, their\ncommon pleasures and pains should agree? Aye,\u2014and we said rightly. Will\nnot then our citizens most especially hold in common that same thing,\nwhich they call \u201c_my own_,\u201d\u2014and, holding this in common, thus have a\nspecial fellowship in pleasure and pain? Very much so. And the cause of\nall this, independently of other regulations of the state,\u2014is it not the\ncommunity of women and children among the guardians? Most especially so,\nhe replied.\n\nCHAP. XII.\u2014We had agreed, moreover, as to the greatest good of a state,\nby comparing a well-managed state to a body, which feels pleasure or\npain affecting any part of it. Aye, we were right, said he, in agreeing\nabout this. The cause then of all this high degree of good to our state\nwas found to be the community of women and children among our defenders?\nSurely, replied he. And in that case, we agree at least with what was\nbefore alleged; for we said, I believe, that they ought to have neither\nhouses of their own, nor land, nor any possession, but to receive their\nsubsistence from others, as a reward for their guardianship, and all to\nconsume it in common, if they mean really to be guardians? Right, said\nhe. Do not then, as I say, the circumstances formerly mentioned, and\nstill more those now mentioned, cause them to be true guardians, and\nprevent those divisions in the state [which arise] from not calling one\nand the same thing their own,\u2014but one one thing, and another\nanother;\u2014one drawing to his own dwelling whatever he can acquire\nseparately from the rest, and another, to his likewise that which is\nseparate; and also different wives and children, occasioning both\npleasures and pains, individually private, though holding one and the\nsame opinion concerning what is domestic,\u2014all, as far as possible,\npointing towards the same thing,\u2014namely, a community of feeling\nrespecting pleasure and pain? Of course, we grant that, replied he. But\nwhat?\u2014will not lawsuits and criminal charges in the courts be banished\nfrom among them (so to speak), from the fact of their possessing nothing\nin private but their body, but all the rest in common,\u2014owing to which,\nthey will be kept free from all the dissensions which men raise about\nmoney, or children and relatives? It is quite clear, they will be thus\nrelieved. And, moreover, in these there could not fairly be any suits,\nas regards personal violence or improper treatment:\u2014for conceiving\npersonal preservation to be an absolute necessity, we will own it to be\nhandsome and just for compeers in age to help their compeers. Right,\nsaid he. And this privilege, said I, at any rate this law possesses:\u2014if\na man be in a passion with any one, he will in such a case be less apt\nto venture on still greater seditions. Certainly. The elder, moreover,\nwill be ordered both to govern and chastise all the younger. Clearly so.\nAnd moreover, as to the younger, with regard to the elder, unless the\nmagistrates order it, he will never attempt to beat the elder, or\notherwise offer him violence,\u2014nor, methinks, will he by any other means\ndishonour him:\u2014for there are two sufficient guardians to hinder it, fear\nand respect,\u2014respect on the one hand restraining him from laying hands\non a parent, and fear on the other, that others might come to the\ndefence of the sufferer;\u2014some as sons, others as brothers, and others as\nfathers. Yes,\u2014such is the case, said he. In every respect then, in\nconsequence of the laws, these men, [_i. e._ the warriors,] will enjoy\npeace with one another? Yes, much. And so long as these do not quarrel\namong themselves, there is no danger of the rest of the state rising or\nmutually splitting into factions. No, of course not. As for the least\nimportant evils, I am unwilling for propriety\u2019s sake even to mention\nfrom how many they will have been relieved,\u2014the poor, [for instance,] as\nregards the work of flattering the rich,\u2014and the difficulties and\nanxieties, which people have in bringing up their children and procuring\nmoney for the support of servants,\u2014sometimes borrowing, sometimes\ndenying debts, and at other times using all manner of shifts in\nprocuring [money,] and then giving it to the management of their wives\nand domestics;\u2014about these matters, friend, how many slavish and ignoble\ntroubles they suffer are not even worthy to be mentioned. Yes, they are\nmanifest, said he, even to one blind.\n\nCHAP. XIII.\u2014From all these troubles, therefore, they will be relieved,\nand will live more blessedly than that most blessed life which those\nlive who gain the Olympic prizes. How? On one small account only are\nthose esteemed happy, compared with what these enjoy;\u2014for the victory of\nthese is more noble, and their maintenance at the public expense more\ncomplete: inasmuch as the victory that they gain brings safety to the\nentire state,\u2014and by way of crown and reward, both they and their\nchildren receive their maintenance and all other necessaries of life,\nthus winning honours from their own state while living, and at their\ndeath an honourable funeral. Noble rewards! indeed, said he. Do you\nremember, then, said I, that in a former part of our discussion, some\none,\u2014I know not who,\u2014objected to us, that we were not making our\nguardians happy, by decreeing that those who had the whole wealth of the\ncitizens at their command should nevertheless have nothing at all?\u2014and\nwe said, I believe, that we would consider this afterwards, if it fell\nin our way; but that at present we were making our guardians real\nguardians, and the state itself as happy as possible, without\nexclusively regarding any single class in it, with a view to make it\nhappy? I remember, said he. What think you now of the life of our\nauxiliaries, which appears far more noble and happy than that of those\nof the Olympic prizemen;\u2014do you think it can be compared to the life of\nthe leather-cutter, or any other kind of craftsman, or even the farmer?\nI do not think so, said he. Still even, what I said before, it is proper\nthat I mention here also,\u2014if the guardian should try to become happy in\nsuch a way as to lose his character as a guardian, and not be content\nwith a life thus moderate and steady, and as we say, of the best\nquality, but on the other hand be impelled by a silly boyish notion\nabout happiness, to appropriate to himself all the property in the\nstate, because he has the power, he will know that Hesiod was really\nwise, in saying that \u201cthe half is considerably more than the\nwhole.\u201d[170] If he take me for his counsellor, said he, he will remain\nin such a life. You agree then, said I, as to the fellowship of the\nwomen with the men, which we have explained, in matters referring to\neducation and children, and the guardianship of the other citizens;\u2014that\nwhether they remain in the state, or go forth to war, they ought to keep\nguard with them, and hunt with them like hounds, and in every case take\na share in all things, as far as they can; and that doing these things\nthey will do what is best, and not contrary to the nature of the female,\nas regards the male,\u2014by which nature, indeed, they act jointly with one\nanother? I agree, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 170:\n\n  Comp. Hes. Op. et Di. v. 40\u2014\u03bd\u03ae\u03c0\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9 \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u2019 \u1f34\u03c3\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u1f45\u03c3\u1ff3 \u03c0\u03bb\u03ad\u03bf\u03bd \u1f25\u03bc\u03b9\u03c3\u03c5 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XIV.\u2014Does not this then, said I, still remain to be discussed,\nwhether it be possible that this community of habits can take place\namong men, even as among other animals? and how it is possible? You have\nforestalled me, said he, by mentioning what I was just going to ask.\nAye;\u2014for as to war, said I, it is plain, methinks, how they will fight.\nHow? said he. They will go out jointly on their military expeditions,\nand will carry along with them to battle also such of their children as\nare robust, in order that those of the craftsmen may see what they ought\nto practise when arrived at full age, and, apart from mere observation,\nmay serve and minister in all such matters subserviently both to their\nfathers and mothers. Have you not observed also what happens in the\ncommon arts, as, for instance, among the children of the potters,\u2014how\nlong a time they help and look on, before they apply themselves to the\nmaking of pottery? Yes, indeed. Should these then, or our guardians, be\nmore careful in instructing their children by their own experience, and\nby observation of what is suitable for them? [To suppose that the\ncraftsman would,] replied he, were truly ridiculous. Yet every creature\nwhatever will fight more valiantly in the presence of its offspring? It\nis so: but there is no small danger, Socrates, should they be defeated,\nas is often the case in war, that when their children, as well as\nthemselves, are cut off, it will be impossible to restore the rest of\nthe state. Yon speak truly, replied I: but think you, that our first\nduty should Be never to expose them to risk? No, by no means. What then:\nif they are to hazard themselves in any case, is it not\u2014where they will\nbecome better men, if they succeed? Clearly so. But do you think it a\nsmall matter, and unworthy of the risk, that children destined for\nmilitary life should or should not be observers of the transactions of\nwar? No;\u2014for it is highly important with reference to what you now\nmention. This then, we must first contrive,\u2014to make our children\nspectators of war, yet providing for their safety:\u2014and then all will go\nwell, will it not? Yes. And surely their fathers, said I, in the first\nplace, as far as men can, will not be ignorant, but well informed as to\nthe kinds of expeditions which are dangerous or not so. Probably so,\nsaid he. Into the one then, they will take them; but will be cautious of\nexposing them to the other. Right. And they will probably, said I, set\ngovernors over them, not such as are the most depraved, but such as by\nexperience and years are able leaders and trainers of the young. Yes,\nquite proper. Yet many things, we may say, happen to many contrary to\nexpectation. Quite so. With reference, therefore, to such events as\nthese, it is fit that we should provide the children with things while\nquite young, in order, if need be, that they may escape by flight. How\ndo you mean? said he. We must mount them on horseback, said I, when\nextremely young; and when they have learnt to ride, they must be taken\nto see battles, not on high-mettled war-horses, but on the fleetest and\nmost obedient to the rein; for thus they will best observe their proper\nwork, and in case of need, escape with the greatest safety, following\nthe aged leaders. I think, said he, your remark is correct. What then,\nsaid I, as to the affairs of war; how are you to manage our soldiers,\nboth as respects each other and their enemies? Is my opinion correct or\nnot? Tell me what it is, replied he. As for that man among them, said I,\nwho has left his rank, thrown away his arms, or done any such like act\nfrom mere cowardice, ought we not to make him a craftsman, or field\nlabourer? Certainly. And the man who is taken alive by the enemy, should\nhe not be given away as a present to those inclined to use their booty\njust as they please? Yes, surely. And as to him who has signalized\nhimself and attained to high renown, think you not, that he ought, first\nof all in the field itself, to be crowned successively by each of the\nyouths and boys who are his fellow-soldiers?\u2014is it not so? Yes, I think\nso. And will they give him the right hand likewise? And that too. But\nwhat I am going to tell you, said I, will not, methinks, be quite so\npleasing. What? That they should kiss and be kissed by each\nindividually? This is by far the best of all, said he: and for myself, I\nwould add this regulation,\u2014that, so long as they are on this expedition,\nno one shall be allowed to refuse the man, whoever it be that he pleases\nto kiss,\u2014so that if a warrior happen to be in love with any one, male or\nfemale, he may be the more animated to win the noblest prize of\nvalour.[171] Very well, said I:\u2014for it has been already said, that more\nopportunities for marriage should be provided for the brave citizen than\nfor others, and more frequent choice in such matters should be allowed\nto them than to all others, in order that such a man\u2019s descendants may\nbe as numerous as possible. Yes, we did say so, replied he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 171:\n\n  Comp. here Aristot. Pol. ii. 2.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XV.\u2014Moreover, even according to Homer, it is just that really\nbrave youths should be honoured in this way; inasmuch as Homer said,\nthat Ajax, who on account of the renown he had gained in battle, was\nrewarded with a large share at the entertainments,\u2014fit reward, too, for\na brave and youthful man, from which he at once acquired both honour and\nstrength. Most right, said he. In this matter, at least, then, said I,\nwe are to obey the authority of Homer; and as a proof of this, we will\nso honour the brave, both at our sacrifices, and on such like occasions,\nin as far as they appear deserving, both with hymns, and the honours\njust mentioned; and besides this, with seats and viands, and brimming\ncups, so as at once both to honour and exercise the virtue of worthy men\nand women. You speak capitally well, replied he. Well, of those then\nthat die in the campaign, shall we not, in the first place, say, of the\nman that closes his life with glory, that he is of the golden race?\nQuite so, indeed. And are we not to believe Hesiod, when he tells us,\nthat if any of this race die, then\u2014\n\n               Chaste, holy, earthly spirits they become,\n               Expelling evil, guardians of mankind?[172]\n\nYes, we will believe him. We will ask the oracle then, how we ought to\nbury noble and divine men, and with what marks of distinction; and then\nwe will bury them in the very manner that [the God] directs. Of course.\nAnd in all after-time we will reverence and worship their tombs as those\nof demigods, and enact that the same ceremonies shall be observed with\nregard to persons dying of old age, or from any other cause, after\nhaving been deemed remarkably good during their lifetime? Aye, it is\nonly just, said he. But what?\u2014how are our soldiers to behave towards\nenemies? In what respect? First, as respects enslavement, think you it\njust, that Greeks should enslave Greek cities?\u2014-nay, ought they not, as\nfar as they can, to prevent others from doing it, and act on the\nprinciple of sparing the Grecian tribe, cautiously looking to the\npossibility of being themselves enslaved by barbarians? Aye, said he;\nboth generally, and in every particular case, it is the best plan to be\nsparing. Are they then not to keep any Greek slave themselves, and to\ncounsel the rest of the Greeks to agree to the same plan? Surely, said\nhe: because they will thus at least, turn themselves the more against\nthe barbarians, and abstain from one war against another. But what?\nStripping the dead, said I, of anything but their arms after conquering\nthem, is that right;\u2014or does it not rather furnish cowards with an\nexcuse not to go against a foe, as if they were doing some duty when\nbending over a mere corpse; and have not many armies been destroyed by\nthis kind of plunder? Very many. Do not you think it also illiberal and\nforbidden to plunder a corpse, and the mark of a feminine and little\nmind to deem the body of the deceased an enemy, after the enemy has fled\naway, and nought remains behind, but the instrument with which he\nfought? Do you think that they who act thus do any otherwise than dogs\ndo, who snap at the stones with which they are pelted and do not touch\nthe man who throws them? Not at all, he replied. We must have done then\nwith this stripping of the dead, and these hinderances arising from the\ncarrying off of booty. Aye, by Zeus, said he, we must have done with\nthem.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 172:\n\n  Hesiod. Op. et Di. v. 121, 2.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XVI.\u2014Moreover, we shall not at any time bring arms into the\ntemples, for the purpose of dedicating them, at least not the arms of\nGreeks,\u2014if we at all care for the kind feeling of the rest of the\nGreeks; but we shall rather fear its being a kind of profanation to\nbring into the temple such things as these from our close connexions,\nunless the oracle direct us otherwise. Quite right, replied he. And as\nregards the laying waste of Grecian lands and the burning of houses, how\nwould your soldiers treat their enemies? Aye,\u2014I should be glad, said he,\nto hear you state your opinion on that point. Truly then, said I, my\nopinion is, that we should do neither of these things, but only carry\noff the year\u2019s crop:\u2014and would you have me tell you the reason, why this\nshould be done? By all means. It appears to me, that as these two words,\nwar and discord, are different, so two different things are signified by\nthem; and I call them different\u2014the latter between members of the same\ncommunity, and the former between foreigners and strangers.\u2014When hatred\nis among one\u2019s own people, it is called discord; when it respects\nforeigners, war. What you say, replied he, is not at all unreasonable.\nBut consider, whether what I now state is also to the purpose; for I\nassert that the Greek nation itself is friendly and in alliance with\nitself, though foreign and strange to the barbarian. Well observed, said\nhe. When therefore Greeks fight with barbarians, and barbarians with\nGreeks, we may then say, that they are at war, and naturally enemies;\nand this hatred we may call war: but when Greeks act thus towards\nGreeks, we may say that they are naturally friends, and that Greece in\nsuch a case is distempered, and at discord; and such a hatred is to be\ncalled discord. I agree, said he, that we must view it thus. Consider\nthen, said I, that in the discord just mentioned, whenever such a thing\nhappens, how the state is split in factions, and when they sequester\neach other\u2019s lands and burn each other\u2019s houses, how destructive the\ndiscord seems, and neither of them seem to be lovers of their country;\nfor otherwise they would never have dared to pillage their nurse and\nmother, but it would have been sufficient for the victors to carry off\nthe crops of the vanquished, and to conceive that they would one day be\nreconciled, and not perpetually be at war. This indeed is by far a\nmilder sentiment than the other. But what then? said I; this state that\nyou are founding, is it to be a Greek one? It ought, he replied. Are\nthey not then to be good and mild? By all means. And will they not be\nlovers of Greece; and will they not account Greece as related to them;\nand will they not observe the same religious rites as the rest of the\nGreeks? Most decidedly. Any difference then, that they have with Greeks,\nas kinsmen, will they not consider that as discord,\u2014not war? Yes, for it\nis not war. And they will behave then, as those capable of being\nreconciled? Quite so, of course. They will be mild then and moderate,\nnot punishing so far as to enslave or destroy,\u2014as advocates for\ncorrection, and not as enemies. Just so, said he. Neither then, as they\nare Greeks, will they pillage the lands, or burn the houses of Greeks;\nnor will they allow, that in every state, individually, all are their\nenemies, men, women, and children, but that in all cases a few only are\nenemies,\u2014the originators of the quarrel: and on all these accounts they\nwill not choose to lay waste their lands, since the majority of the\noccupants are their friends; nor will they overturn the houses:\u2014and so\nfar only will they carry on the war, until the real originators be\nobliged by the innocent to make reparation to those whom they have\ngrieved. I agree, said he, that we ought so to behave towards opponents\namong our own citizens,\u2014but towards the barbarians, as the Greeks now\nact towards each other. This law, then, also, let us enact for our\nguardians, that they shall neither lay waste the lands, nor burn the\nhouses. Aye, let us enact it, said he; and this further, that these\nthings are right, and those also, that you before mentioned.\n\nCHAP. XVII.\u2014It appears to me, however, Socrates, that if one allow you\nto go on speaking in this fashion, you will never remember what you\nformerly put aside, when you entered on all that you have now\nsaid;\u2014namely, how far such a government is possible, and in what way it\nis at all possible? For, if it be at all possible, I will allow that all\nthese high advantages will belong to that state in which it exists, and\nthe following also, which you omitted; and I now tell you, that they\nwill, with all possible courage, fight against their enemies, and least\nof all abandon each other, recognising, and calling one another by these\nnames,\u2014fathers, sons, and brothers; and if the females encamp along with\nthem, whether in the same rank, or drawn up behind them, they will\nstrike terror into the enemies, and at the same time, in case of need,\ngive all assistance:\u2014in this way, I know, they will be utterly\nunconquerable; and as for the advantages they have at home, which we\nhave omitted, those at any rate I plainly see.\u2014But as I allow, that all\nthese, and ten thousand other things, will belong to this form of\ngovernment, if it actually does exist, let us talk no more about it, but\ntry to persuade each other of this itself, how far it is possible, and\nin what way:\u2014and let us omit the other points. You have suddenly, said\nI, made an attack on my argument, and make no allowance for one who is\nbut a bungler;[173] because, perhaps, you do not know with what\ndifficulty I have got over two breakers, and now you are driving me on\nthe greatest and most dangerous of all the three. After having seen and\nheard this, you will, I am sure, forgive me; allowing, that I had reason\nfor hesitation, and was frightened by the mention of so great a paradox\nfrom undertaking its examination. The more, said he, you mention such\nthings, the less will you be excused from explaining in what respect\nthis government is possible. Proceed then without delay. Must we not\nthen, said I, first remember this, that we are come hither to inquire\ninto the nature of justice and injustice? We must, said he. But what is\nthis to the purpose? Nothing. But supposing we find out the nature of\njustice, are we to judge then, that the just man ought nowise to differ\ntherefrom, but in every respect to resemble justice; or are we to be\nsatisfied, if he approach to it, as nearly as possible, and, of all\nothers, partake of it the most? This will satisfy us, said he. For\nexample\u2019s sake, then, said I, we were inquiring into this,\u2014what is the\nnature of justice; and we were in quest also of the perfectly just man,\nhow he became so, and what was his nature, if he really existed,\u2014and so\nalso with respect to injustice, and the supremely unjust man, in order\nthat, looking to them as regards their apparent qualities in relation to\nhappiness and its opposite, we might be obliged to acknowledge\nconcerning ourselves, that whoever most resembles them in character will\nhave a fortune most resembling theirs; and not for the purpose of\nshowing that these things are possible or not. It is quite true, said\nhe. Think you, then, that he is in any degree an inferior painter, who\nhaving painted the portrait of a very handsome man, and having expressed\neverything fully in his picture, is yet unable to show that such a man\nreally exists? By Zeus, said he, I do not. Well, have we not now then\nlogically defined, [shall we say,] the model of a good state? Yes,\nindeed. Have we, indeed, less ably stated the case, think you, for this\nreason, because we are unable to show the possibility of a state being\nestablished as we have described?[174] No, indeed, said he. This then,\nsaid I, is the truth of the case:\u2014but if indeed, I must now, on your\naccount, be anxious on this point,\u2014that is, to show how and in what\nrespects it is most possible, with a view to this discovery, you must\nagain allow what you did before. What? Can anything possibly be executed\nas perfectly as it is described; or, is it the nature of practice, that\nit does not approach so near to truth as theory, though some may think\notherwise:\u2014will you allow this or not? I allow it, said he. Do not\noblige me then to show you, that all these things in every respect\npositively exist in as great perfection as we have described in our\nreasoning:\u2014if, however, we can find out how a state may be established\nas closely as possible to what has been mentioned, you will agree that\nwe have discovered the possibility of what you require; or will you not\neven be satisfied, if this be proved? For my own part I should be\nsatisfied. Yes, and I too, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 173:\n\n  Gr. \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03c5\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u1ff3, which is Bekker\u2019s emendation, the old reading being\n  \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u03c5\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u1ff3. The verb means\u2014_to be wearied_, _to delay_, _trifle_,\n  _play the coward_.\n\nFootnote 174:\n\n  Plato\u2019s object here is to show, that painters in the high departments\n  of art copy _ideal_, not actual nature,\u2014nature in its perfection,\u2014not\n  in its imperfect and actual nature.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XVIII.\u2014Next then, it seems, we must endeavour to find out and show\nwhat is the evil now existing in states, owing to which they are not\nestablished in the manner we have described,\u2014and what is that smallest\nchange, by making which we could bring the state to this model of\ngovernment;\u2014and let us chiefly see, if this can be effected by the\nchange of one thing,\u2014if not, by the change of two,\u2014if not that, by the\nchange of the fewest things in number, and the smallest in power. By all\nmeans, said he. By changing one thing only then, said I, methinks, I can\nshow that the state may be moulded into this form of government:\u2014that\nchange, however, is neither small nor easy, though possible. What is it?\nsaid he. I am now come, said I, to what I compared to the greatest wave:\nand it shall now be mentioned, even though, as with a wave, I should be\noverwhelmed with ridicule and infamy. Consider, however, what I am now\ngoing to say. Proceed, replied he. Unless either philosophers, said I,\ngovern in states, or those who are at present called kings and governors\nphilosophize genuinely and sufficiently, and both political power and\nphilosophy unite in one,\u2014and until the bulk of those now pursuing each\nof these separately are of necessity excluded, there will be no end,\nGlaucon, to the miseries of states, nor yet, as I think, to those of the\nhuman race; nor till then will that government, which we have described\nin our reasonings, ever spring up to a positive existence, and behold\nthe light of the sun.\u2014And this is what all along made me dislike\nmentioning it, that I saw what a paradox I was about to advance: for one\ncan scarcely be convinced that no other government but this can enjoy\nhappiness, either public or private. You have thrown out such an\nexpression and argument, Socrates, said he, as you think may bring on\nyou a great many, and these too so specially bold as to put off their\nclothes, and snatch naked whatever weapon each happens to have ready (as\nif about performing prodigies) for rushing forward in battle-array:\u2014and\nif you do not mow them down with argument, and so make your escape, you\nwill pay for it by suffering the severest ridicule. And are not you the\ncause of all this? said I. Aye, through acting well at least, replied\nhe:\u2014yet in this affair, I will not betray but defend you, as far as I\ncan; and I am enabled to do so both by my own good-will and your\nencouragement; and your questions probably I shall answer more carefully\nthan any other:\u2014only do you try, by help of such assistance, to show\nthose who are loath to believe these things, that they really are what\nyou represent them. I must try, said I; especially, as you afford me so\nmuch assistance. And here it seems necessary, if we can at all escape\nfrom those you mention, that we should at any rate define clearly what\nkind of men those are whom we call philosophers,\u2014those, who, we are bold\nenough to say, ought alone to govern;\u2014so that, when they are clearly\npointed out, an able defence may be set up, by asserting that it is\ntheir natural province both to study philosophy, and also assume to\nthemselves the government of the state,\u2014while the other members of the\nstate study neither philosophy nor politics, but only obey their leader.\nIt is quite fit, said he, that we should define them. Come then, follow\nme this way, [and see] if we can in some way or other sufficiently\nexplain this matter. Lead on then, said he. Will it be necessary then,\nto remind you, said I,\u2014or do you recollect, that when we say of any one,\nthat he loves a thing, he would not appear, if we speak strictly, to\nlove one part of it, and not another, but to have an affection for the\nwhole?\n\nCHAP. XIX.\u2014I need, it seems, to be reminded of that, replied he; for I\ndo not understand it perfectly. Some one else, indeed, Glaucon, replied\nI, might say what you say; but it does not become a man who is a lover,\nto forget that all things in their bloom somehow excite, and agitate an\namorous person and lover, as seeming worthy both of respect and of\nproper salutes:\u2014do you not behave in this manner towards the beautiful?\nOne, because flat-nosed, will be called agreeable, and be an object of\npraise; and the hooked nose of another, you call princely; and that\nbetween these, formed with exact symmetry: the dark are said to have a\nmanly look, and the fair to be the children of the gods: but this name\nof delicate white, think you it is the invention of any other than a\nflattering lover, who easily bears with the paleness, if it be in the\nseason of youth?\u2014in one word, do you not make all kinds of pretences,\nand say everything that you can, so as not to reject any one who is in\nthe prime of life? If you are disposed, said he, to judge by me of other\nlovers, that they act in this manner, I agree to it for argument\u2019s sake.\nAnd what, said I, as to lovers of wine:\u2014do not you find they act in the\nsame manner, cheerfully drinking every kind of wine on every pretext?\nYes, indeed. And you perceive, I suppose, that the ambitious likewise,\nif they cannot obtain the command of an army, will take the command of a\n\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03c4\u03cd\u03c2;[175] and if they cannot get honour from greater and nobler men,\nare content to be honoured by the lesser and the meaner sort, because\nthey are desirous of honour at any rate? Perfectly true. Will you allow\nthis or not: if we say, one desires a thing, are we to say that he\ndesires the whole species, or that he desires one part of it, but not\nanother? The whole, replied he. May we not then likewise say, that the\nphilosopher desires wisdom, and that too, not one part only, but the\nwhole? True. He then, who is averse to a course of discipline,\nespecially if he be young, and has not understanding to discern what is\ngood and what is otherwise, should not be called a lover of learning,\nnor a philosopher;\u2014just as we say of a person disgusted with meats, that\nhe neither hungers after nor desires meats, and is not a lover but a\nhater of them. Aye,\u2014and we shall say right. But the man who has a ready\ninclination to taste of every branch of learning, and enters with\npleasure on its study, and is insatiable thereof, this man we may with\njustice call a philosopher, may we not? Whereon Glaucon said, Many such\nphilosophers as those will go into great absurdities; for all your\nlovers of shows appear to me to be of this kind, from taking a pleasure\nin learning; and your story-lovers are of all persons to be reckoned the\nmost stupid,\u2014among philosophers at least. These indeed would not\nwillingly attend to such reasoning, or to such a disquisition as this.\nBut yet, as if they had hired out their ears to listen to every public\nditty, they run about to the Dionysia, omitting neither the civic nor\nvillage festivals.[176] Are all these then, and others who run after\nsuch matters, and those likewise who devote themselves to the inferior\narts, to be called by us philosophers? By no means, said I, but only\nlike philosophers.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 175:\n\n  The Scholiast states by way of explanation, that the Athenian people\n  were divided into ten \u03c6\u03c5\u03bb\u03b1\u03af or wards, which were again subdivided into\n  \u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03c4\u03cd\u03b5\u03c2, \u1f14\u03b8\u03bd\u03b7 and \u03c6\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03b9. The commander of a \u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03c4\u03c5\u03c2 then was\n  called a \u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03c4\u03cd\u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03bf\u03c2,\u2014whence the verb \u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03c4\u03c5\u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd.\n\nFootnote 176:\n\n  There were three festivals at Athens, commonly termed Bacchic,\u2014the\n  great or city festival (the most important of all, at which the\n  dramatic poets contended with their new plays), celebrated in the\n  month Elaphebolion,\u2014the Len\u00e6a, in the month Maimacterion,\u2014and the\n  rural Dionysia, in the month Poseideon.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XX.\u2014Who are they, however, said he, whom you call the true ones?\nThose, said I, who are desirous of discerning the truth.[177] That too,\nsaid he, is correct:\u2014but how do you mean? It is not easy, said I, to\ntell another this; but you, I think, should agree with me in this. In\nwhat? That since the beautiful is contrary to the deformed, these are\ntwo things. Of course, they are. And if they are two, then each of them\nis one. Granted also. And as regards justice and injustice,\u2014good and\nevil,\u2014and also respecting all ideas whatever, the argument is the\nsame\u2014that each of them is one in itself, though, as to their relation\nwith actions and bodies, and each other mutually, they take an\nall-varying number of forms, so as to make the one appear many. Right,\nsaid he. In this manner then, said I, do I distinguish and set apart\nthose that you just mentioned, the lovers of public shows, from\ncraftsmen and mechanics; and then quite apart from these I place those\nof whom we are now discoursing, whom alone we may properly call\nphilosophers. How say you? replied he. The lovers of common stories and\nspectacles, delight in fine sounds, colours, and figures, and everything\nmade up of these; but the nature of beauty itself their intellect is\nunable to discern and admire. That is the case, indeed, said he. As to\nthose, however, who are able to approach this beauty itself and behold\nit in its real essence, surely they must be few in number? Extremely so.\nHe then who deems some things beautiful, but neither knows beauty itself\nnor is able to follow, should any one lead to the knowledge of it, do\nyou think he lives in a dream, or is awake? consider: is not this to\ndream, when a man, either asleep or awake, imagines the likeness of a\nthing not to be its likeness, but the real thing itself which it\nresembles? I for my part would assert, replied he, that such a person is\nreally in a dream. But what now as to him who comes to an exactly\nopposite conclusion, who understands the real nature of beauty, and is\nable to discern both it and its accessories, and deems neither the\naccessories to be beauty, nor beauty the accessories;\u2014does such a man,\nthink you, live in a waking or dreaming state? Wide awake, said he. May\nwe not then properly call this man\u2019s intellectual power, so far as he\nreally knows, knowledge, but that of the other, opinion,\u2014as he only\nopines? Surely so. But what,\u2014if the person, who, we say, only opines\nthings, but does not really know them, becomes indignant, and raises a\ndispute, alleging that our position is not true, shall we have any\nmethod of soothing and gently persuading him, and yet at the same time\nconcealing that he is not in a sound state? We surely ought, replied he.\nCome then, bethink you what we are to say to him,\u2014are you disposed that\nwe should question him thus,\u2014saying, that if he knows anything, no one\nenvies him, and we should gladly see him possessed of more\nknowledge;\u2014and tell us this too, does the man who has so much knowledge,\nknow something or nothing? Do you answer me in his behalf. I will\nanswer, said he, that he knows something. Is it something then, that\ndoes or does not exist? What does exist: for how can that, which does\nnot exist, be known? This, then, we have sufficiently considered;\u2014though\nwe might have considered it more fully,\u2014that what really is, may be\nreally known, but what does not at all exist, cannot be known at all?\nYes,\u2014this we have examined quite sufficiently. Be it so: but if there be\nanything of such character, as both to be and not to be, must it not lie\nbetween what has a perfect existence, and what has none at all? Between\nthem. If then there is knowledge as to what really exists, and\nnecessarily ignorance as to what does not exist,\u2014as to what lies between\nthese, must we not seek for something between ignorance and science, if\nthere be any such thing? By all means. Are we to allege, then, that\nopinion is anything? Of course. Is it a different faculty from science,\nor the same? Different. Opinion then is conversant about one thing, and\nscience about another, each according to its own peculiar faculty? Just\nso. Is not then the nature of science as regards that which exists, to\nknow what existence is? It seems to me, however, far more necessary to\nlay down the distinction thus. How?\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 177:\n\n  The portrait of the true philosopher, whom Plato conceives to be the\n  only true president and ruler of his state, is described from this\n  chapter onwards to the end of the third chapter of the sixth book,\n  with farther illustration in the thirteenth chapter of that book.\n  Should the reader conceive, that too little regard is paid to worldly\n  affairs and too little stress laid on the doctrine of ideas, he must\n  recollect that this philosopher conceived that all knowledge of truth\n  (\u2014without which not even civil business could be conducted, according\n  to his notions\u2014) is to be gained only from the contemplation of things\n  considered _per se_,\u2014and that there can be no real human felicity\n  unconnected with wisdom and virtue, which can only be attained by true\n  philosophers engaged in inquiring into the eternal nature of things\n  around or in themselves.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XXI.\u2014We will say, that faculties are a certain kind of real\nexistences, by which both we can do whatever we are able, and every\nbeing else also whatever it is able: for instance, I say, that seeing\nand hearing are faculties, if you understand what I mean to call \u2018the\nspecies\u2019 [or idea].[178] I understand, said he. Hear then what is my\nopinion about them: for I do not see any colour nor figure, nor any of\nsuch qualities of a faculty, as of many other things, with reference to\nwhich I form a mental internal perception of their differences: but in a\nfaculty, I regard that alone, about which it is employed, and what it\naccomplishes; and on this account I call each of these a faculty; and\nthat which is employed about and accomplishes one and the same purpose,\nthis I call the same faculty; but what is employed about and\naccomplishes a different purpose, that I call a different faculty:\u2014what\nsay you? In what manner do you call it? Just the same, he replied. Here\nagain, excellent Glaucon, said I,\u2014do you allege, that science is itself\na certain faculty, or to what class do you refer it? To this, he said,\nthe strongest of all the faculties. But what then;\u2014are we to refer\nopinion to faculty, or to some other species? By no means, said he; for\nthat by which we have the power of forming opinions is nothing else but\nopinion. But some time since, you allowed that science and opinion were\nnot the same. How, said he, can any one with common sense reduce under\none, what is infallible, and what is not infallible? Right, said I;\u2014and\nit is plain, that we have allowed opinion to be a different thing from\nscience. Yes,\u2014different. Each of them then has naturally a different\nfaculty in reference to a different object? Of course. Science surely as\nregards that which exists, so as to know the nature of real existence?\nYes. But we say that opinion opines? Yes. Is it cognizant of the same\nthing that science is;\u2014and will that which is known, and that which is\nmatter of opinion, be the same;\u2014or is this impossible? Impossible, said\nhe, from what has been granted: since they are naturally faculties of\ndifferent things, and both of them are faculties,\u2014opinion and\nscience,\u2014and each of them different from the other, as we have said;\nhence it cannot be, that what is opined is the same with that which is\nknown. If then that which exists is known, must it not differ from what\nis perceived by opinion? It does differ. Does opinion then entertain\nwhat has no existence;\u2014or is it impossible to opine what does not exist\nat all?\u2014Consider now, does not the man who opines, refer his opinion to\nsome standard;\u2014or is it possible to opine, and yet opine nothing at all?\nImpossible. But whoever opines, opines some one thing? Yes. But surely\nthat which does not exist, cannot be called any one thing, but most\nproperly nothing at all? Certainly. But we necessarily referred\nignorance to that which has no true being, and knowledge to real\nexistence? Right, said he. He does not, therefore, opine true being, nor\nyet that which has no being? He does not. Opinion then is neither\nknowledge, nor is it ignorance? It seems not. Does it then exceed these,\neither knowledge in perspicuity, or ignorance in obscurity? Neither.\nThink you then, said I, that opinion is more obscure than knowledge, but\nclearer than ignorance? Far, said he. Does it lie then between them\nboth? Yes. Opinion then is between the two? Entirely so. And have we not\nalready said, that if anything appeared of such a nature, as at once to\nexist and yet not exist, such a thing would lie between what really\nexists, and that which has no existence at all, and neither science nor\nignorance would take cognizance of it, but that only which appeared to\nbe between ignorance and science? Right. And now, what we call opinion\nhas been shown to lie between them. It has been so shown.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 178:\n\n  Plato makes use of two terms in his system,\u2014\u03c4\u1f78 \u03b5\u1f36\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 and \u1f21 \u1f30\u03b4\u03ad\u03b1;\u2014and\n  some commentators are disposed to think, that the former corresponds\n  with the dialectical term, _species_,\u2014the higher intellectual,\n  abstract notion being expressed only by the latter. It must be\n  confessed, however, that they are often used with scarcely any\n  distinction of meaning.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XXII.\u2014This then yet remains for us, as it seems, to discover,\u2014what\nparticipates in both\u2014that is, being, and non-being, and what can\nproperly be called neither of them perfectly,\u2014so that if it seems to be\nwhat it is reputed, we may with justice term it so, assigning to the\nextremes what are extreme, and to the middle what are between the\ntwo:\u2014must we not? Just so. These things being determined, I will say,\nlet this worthy man tell and answer me,\u2014he who reckons that there is\nneither beauty, nor idea of beauty, always the same; but that lover of\nbeautiful objects[179] reckons that there are many beautiful objects,\nnot enduring to be told that there is only one beautiful, and one just,\nand so of the rest. Of all these many things, excellent man! shall we\nsay, whether there be any which will not appear deformed, and of those\njust which will not appear unjust, and of those holy which will not\nappear profane? No; but said he, the objects themselves must in some\nrespects necessarily appear both beautiful and deformed, and whatever\nelse you ask. But what?\u2014Do double quantities generally seem to have less\ncapacity for being halves than the doubles [of others?] Not at all. And\nthings great and small, light and heavy, are they to be termed what we\ncall them, any more than the opposite? No; said he:\u2014each of them, always\nparticipates of both. Is then, or is not, each of these many things just\nwhat it is said to be? It resembles their equivocal jokes at feasts,\nsaid he, and the riddle of children about the eunuch\u2019s striking the bat,\nwith what and on what part they guess he strikes it:[180] for all these\nthings have a double meaning, and it is impossible to know accurately\nwhether they are, or are not,\u2014or are both, or neither of the two. How\ncan you act with them then, said I, or what better position have you for\nthem than a medium between being and non-being?\u2014For nothing seems more\nobscure than non-being as compared with having no being at all, nor more\nclear than being in respect of real being.[181] Most true, said he. We\nhave discovered then, it seems, that most of the maxims of the people\nabout the beautiful, and those other things, fluctuate somehow between\nbeing and non-being. Yes, we have discovered it. But it was formerly\nagreed at least, that if such a thing were apparent, it ought to be\ncalled that which is opined, and not what is known; and that which\nfluctuates between the two is to be perceived by the intermediate\nfaculty. We agreed. Those then, who contemplate many beautiful things,\nbut yet never perceive beauty itself, and cannot follow another who\nwould lead them to it,\u2014and many just things, though not justice itself,\nand all other things in like manner, these persons, we will say, hold\nopinions on all things, yet have no accurate knowledge of what they\nopine. It must be so, said he. But what then, as regards those who\nperceive each of the objects themselves, always existing in the same\nmanner, and in the same relations,\u2014shall we not say that they know, and\ndo not opine? This must be the case also. And shall we not say, that\nthese embrace and love the things of which they have knowledge, and the\nothers the things of which they entertain only opinions;\u2014and remember we\nnot, that we alleged them to behold and love fine sounds and colours,\nand such things; though beauty itself they do not admit to have any real\nbeing? Yes,\u2014we remember. Shall we be wrong then in calling them lovers\nof opinion, rather than philosophers?\u2014And yet they will be greatly\nenraged at us, if we call them so. Not, if they be persuaded by me, said\nhe; for it is not right to be enraged at the truth. Those then who\nembrace and love what has real being, we must call philosophers, and not\nlovers of opinion? Most assuredly.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 179:\n\n  The words \u1f10\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f41 \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03b8\u03b5\u03ac\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd (which Ast. considers superfluous)\n  convey a sly hit at those sophists who set up for admiration various\n  different objects of beauty, sensual and physical, instead of the\n  eternal and immutable beauty of truth and virtue.\n\nFootnote 180:\n\n  The Scholiast cites the following lines, which he ascribes to\n  Clearchus:\u2014\n\n                \u03b1\u1f36\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03af\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd \u1f61\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03ae\u03c1 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f00\u03bd\u1f74\u03c1\n                \u1f44\u03c1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b8\u03b1 \u03ba\u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f44\u03c1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b8\u2019 \u1f30\u03b4\u03ce\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f30\u03b4\u03ce\u03bd\n                \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03be\u03cd\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03bf\u1f50 \u03be\u03cd\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd\n                \u03bb\u03af\u03b8\u1ff3 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03bf\u1f50 \u03bb\u03af\u03b8\u1ff3 \u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03bf\u1f50 \u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u2014\u2014\u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03c2\n                \u2014\u2014\u1f04\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f04\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f45\u03bc\u03c9\u03c2,\n                \u1f44\u03c1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b8\u03b1, \u03ba\u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f44\u03c1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b8\u03b1, \u1f44\u03c1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b8\u03b1 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f45\u03bc\u03c9\u03c2\n                \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03be\u03cd\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03bf\u1f50 \u03be\u03cd\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd\n                \u03bb\u03af\u03b8\u1ff3 \u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5 \u03ba\u03bf\u1f50 \u03bb\u03af\u03b8\u1ff3 \u03b4\u03b9\u03ce\u03bb\u03b5\u03c3\u03b5\u03bd\u2014\u2014\n                \u03bd\u03c5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b1 \u1f41 \u03b5\u1f50\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c7\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bd\u03ac\u03c1\u03b8\u03b7\u03ba\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b9\u03c3\u03ae\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9.\n\nFootnote 181:\n\n  This is rather an obscure passage, which, however, receives some\n  illustration from the Parmenides (pp. 137 c\u2014155 e), in which the\n  philosopher teaches, among other things, that \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f15\u03bd (i.e. _the one by\n  itself and infinite_) is nothing, destitute of all reason and form,\n  void of truth and in no way falling within the cognizance of the\n  mental faculties;\u2014whereas \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f13\u03bd \u1f44\u03bd (_the one finite_\u2014inasmuch as it\n  has form, mode, and reason of existence,)\u2014is everything, that is,\n  receives within itself a variety of certain forms, and is capable\n  therefore of being perceived and recognised by opinion, perception,\n  and real knowledge.\n\n-----\n\n\n                       THE END OF THE FIFTH BOOK.\n\n\n                                BOOK VI.\n\n                               ARGUMENT.\n\nIn the _sixth book_,\u2014continuing the argument respecting the\n    indispensability of true philosophy to a well-ordered state, and the\n    absolute need of distinguishing true from false philosophy (_i. e._\n    that of the sophists which throws discredit on the whole pursuit),\n    and likewise from what is warped by prejudice, he goes on to show\n    that a state will be blessed with philosophers for rulers, and shows\n    what is the true subject of true philosophy, as well as the means\n    and manner of learning it,\u2014the sum of which is, that a good \u03c6\u03cd\u03bb\u03b1\u03be\n    must be provided with all the defences of true science, not with a\n    view to unprofitable speculations, but that all science and all\n    virtue, his moral clothing, may be considered with reference to its\n    real bearing on the common good of human society. Philosophy, says\n    Plato, has for its proper subject the idea of good (the true end of\n    being), and this being the subject, he next goes on to show the mode\n    of becoming acquainted therewith.\n\nCHAP. I.\u2014Philosophers then, Glaucon, said I, and those who are not so,\nhave, at length, after a long parade of talk and with some difficulty,\nbeen respectively defined. Aye, said he,\u2014for perhaps, it was not easy to\ndo it briefly. It appears not, said I.\u2014I still think, however, that\ntheir qualities would have been better exhibited, had we deemed it right\nto speak about this alone, and not discussed a multitude of other\nmatters while considering the difference between a just and an unjust\nlife. What then, said he, are we to consider next? What else, said I,\nbut that which is next in order?\u2014Since those are philosophers who are\nable to concern themselves with what always maintains a constant\nrelation, whereas those who cannot effect this, but ruminate among a\nhost of [material objects] that are every way shifting,[182] are not\nphilosophers;\u2014which of these ought to be the rulers of the state? Which\nway, said he, shall we define the matter, and define correctly? Such of\nthem, said I, as seem capable of preserving the laws and institutions of\nstates, these are to be made guardians. Right, said he. This then, said\nI, is of course evident,\u2014whether we ought to seek for a guardian one\nthat is blind or one that is sharp-sighted. Of course, that is quite\nevident, said he. What difference then is there between blind persons\nand those who are in fact deprived of the knowledge of each individual\nessence, and have no clear demonstration of it in the soul, and cannot\n(like painters who look at what is positively true, and refer everything\nthereto, examining it with all possible accuracy), if need be, form\nsettled notions, of the beautiful, just, and good, and so maintain them,\nas if sanctioned by law? No, by Zeus, said he;\u2014they do not differ much.\nShall we then rather appoint these as our guardians, or those rather who\nknow each individual being, and in experience are not at all inferior to\nthose others, nor behind them in any other department of virtue? It were\nabsurd, said he, to choose any others, if at least they be not deficient\nin all other matters; since they excel in this, which is the most\nimportant. Must we not inquire this then,\u2014in what manner the same\npersons will be able to have both the one and the other?[183] Certainly.\nAs we observed then, at the opening of this discussion, we must first of\nall thoroughly understand their disposition; and I think, if we are\npretty well agreed about that, we shall agree also, that the same\npersons are able to possess both these qualities; and none else but\nthese ought to be the governors of states. How so?\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 182:\n\n  Gr. \u1f10\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03af\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f34\u03c3\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03ce\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9, &c.\n\nFootnote 183:\n\n  Gr. \u03ba\u1f00\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c4\u03b1 \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd,\u2014that is, both a practical acquaintance\n  and experience of things, and a more subtle scientific knowledge of\n  truth.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. II.\u2014Let us then so far agree about philosophic dispositions, that\nas respects learning they always covet that which discovers to them that\never-existing essence which does not vary through generation or\ncorruption. Let it be agreed. And likewise, said I, that they desire the\nwhole of such learning, and do not willingly omit any part of it, either\nsmall or great, more honourable or more dishonourable, as we formerly\nobserved concerning the ambitious and those engaged in love. You say\nright, said he. Consider then, in the next place, whether, besides, what\nwe have mentioned, it be necessary for those who would be such as we\nhave described, to have this also in their natures. What? Freedom from\nfalsehood, and never willingly to admit a lie, but rather to hate it\nthrough love of truth. It probably would, replied he. It is not only\nprobable, my friend, but quite necessary, that one who naturally loves a\nthing should love everything that is allied and belongs to the object of\nhis affection. Right, said he. Is there anything that you can find more\nnearly allied to wisdom than truth? I cannot, said he. Is it possible,\nthen, for the same disposition to be both philosophic, and fond of\nfalsehood? By no means. He then who is really a lover of learning, ought\nfrom early infancy wholly to desire all truth? By all means. But we know\nsomehow, that whoever has his desires vehemently set on one object, for\nthis very reason has them weaker as regards other things,\u2014just as a\ncurrent diverted from its channel. Certainly. Whoever then has his\ndesires running out after learning and such like matters, would be\nengaged, methinks, with the pleasure of the soul itself, and forsake the\npleasures arising from the body,\u2014if indeed, he be not a pretender, but a\nreal philosopher. This of course must necessarily follow. Such an one\nmoreover is prudent, and by no means fond of money;\u2014for the reasons why\nmoney is so anxiously sought at so great a sacrifice are likely to make\nany one anxious rather than a man like this. Certainly. And surely you\nshould consider this too, when deciding about a philosophic disposition,\nand one that is not so. What? That it shall not unconsciously take an\nilliberal turn,\u2014since narrow-mindedness is most revolting to a soul that\nis ever earnestly pursuing all that is divine and human. Most true, said\nhe. Think you then, that he who possesses magnificent intellectual\nconceptions and can contemplate all time and all being, can possibly\nconsider human life as a thing of great consequence? It is impossible,\nsaid he. Such an one then will not regard death as anything terrible.\nLeast of all, surely. It seems then, that a cowardly and illiberal\ndisposition will not readily connect itself with true philosophy. I do\nnot think it will. What then;\u2014can the well-disposed man, who has\nmoderate desires, and is not a lover of money, nor illiberal, nor\narrogant, nor cowardly, ever possibly be unjust, or a breaker of\nengagements? It is impossible. And this also you will likewise consider,\nwhen viewing from its very source what is and is not a philosophic soul,\nwhether it be just and gentle, or unsocial and savage. By all means.\nNeither, as I think, will you omit this. What? Whether it learn easily\nor with difficulty:\u2014in fact, do you expect that a person will ever love\na thing sufficiently, while he is uneasy in its performance, and makes\nbut small progress? It cannot be. But what if he be oblivious and\nretains nothing of what he learns, can he then possibly acquire\nscience?[184] How is it possible? And when he thus vainly labours, think\nyou not that he will be forced at last to hate both himself and such\nemployment? Of course he must. We can never reckon then among\nphilosophic souls, that which is forgetful; but we shall on the other\nhand require it to have a good memory? By all means. And we can never\nsay this at any rate, that an unmusical and ill-regulated disposition\nleads anywhere but towards irregularity. Where else should it? But as\nregards truth, think you it is allied to irregularity or regularity? To\nregularity. Let us require then, in addition to all other qualities, an\nintellect naturally well-regulated and gracious, as a willing and\nnaturally well-disposed guide in realizing the idea of individual being.\nOf course. What then;\u2014do you not think, that we have in some measure\ndiscussed the necessary qualifications, and such as are mutually\nconnected in a soul that would attain a fitting and perfect apprehension\nof being?\u2014Aye, the most necessary, said he. Can you then any how blame\nsuch a study as this, which a man can never sufficiently pursue, unless\nhe has a naturally good memory, learns with facility, and is generous,\nkind-hearted, the friend and ally of truth, justice, manliness, and\ntemperance? Not even Momus himself, said he, could find fault with such\na study.[185] Aye, said I, and will it not be to such as these alone,\nwhen perfected by education and age, that you will intrust the state?\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 184:\n\n  \u1f04\u03c1\u2019 \u1f02\u03bd \u03bf\u1f37\u03cc\u03c2 \u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f34\u03b7 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03bc\u03b7\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03ba\u03b5\u03bd\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9;\u2014lit. _can he be otherwise\n  than void of science?_\n\nFootnote 185:\n\n  This proverbial expression is well illustrated by Erasmus, Chiliad. i.\n  5, \u00a7 75.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. III.\u2014Then said Adimantus: No one, indeed, Socrates, can contradict\nyou on these points; but all who from time to time hear you advancing\nwhat you do at present, feel somehow thus;\u2014being led a little astray by\nyour reasoning on each question, through inexperience in this mode of\nquestion and answer, when all these littles are collected together, they\nreckon at the close of the discussion that the mistake appears\nconsiderable, and the contrary of their first concessions; and just as\nthose who play at talus with such as are dexterous, themselves being\nunskilful, are in the end driven into a corner and cannot move a piece,\nso your hearers have nothing to say, being driven into a corner, at this\ndifferent kind of play, not with the dice, but your reasonings;\u2014though\nthe truth at least is not thus at all advanced.[186]\u2014I say this with\nreference to the present inquiry; for a person may tell you, that he has\nnothing to allege as an argument against your questions individually,\nbut sees in fact that all those who plunge into philosophy do not pursue\nit with the view of being taught in it during childhood, and liberated\nfrom it when they arrive at mature age, but rather in order that they\nmay continue in it much longer, becoming most of them quite\nperverse,\u2014not to say, altogether depraved; while even such of them as\nappear most worthy, are still so far affected by this pursuit, that you\nso much commend, as to become useless to the public. When I had heard\nthis, I said,\u2014Think you then, that such as say these things are telling\na falsehood? I know not, said he; but I should like to hear what is your\nopinion.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 186:\n\n  This elegant comparison of Socrates to the clever \u03c0\u03b5\u03c4\u03c4\u03b5\u03cd\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 is more\n  lightly touched in a passage in the Laws, vii. p. 820 c:\u2014\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03ac\n  \u03c4\u03b5 \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u03ae\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b5\u1f76 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b2\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c4\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u1f7a \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03ad\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b2\u03c5\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\n  \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b2\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u1f00\u03be\u03af\u03b1\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c7\u03bf\u03bb\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2.\n\n-----\n\nYou will hear then, that in my opinion they speak the truth. How,\nreplied he, can it be right to say that the miseries of states are never\nto come to a close, till they be governed by philosophers, whom we now\nacknowledge as useless thereto? You ask a question, said I, which needs\na figurative reply. And yet said I, I do not think you usually speak by\nfigures.\n\nCHAP. IV.\u2014Granted, said I:\u2014and are you not jesting me, after having\ninvolved me in a subject so hard of explanation?\u2014Yet attend to the\ncomparison, in order that you may the better see how nicely I make\nit:\u2014for the sufferings of the best philosophers in the management of\npublic affairs are so grievous, that there is not one other suffering so\nsevere: but in making our simile, and putting in a defence for them, we\nmust collect from many particulars, in the same way as painters mingle\ntogether different figures, and paint a creature both goat and stag in\none,[187] and others of the same kind. Conceive now such a person as\nthis to be the pilot of a fleet or a single ship, one who surpasses all\nin the ship both in bulk and strength, but is somewhat deaf, and\nshort-sighted as well, and whose skill in nautical affairs is much of\nthe same kind;\u2014and also that the sailors are all quarrelling among each\nother about the pilotage, each thinking he ought to be pilot, though he\nnever learned the art, and cannot show who was his master, nor at what\ntime he got his learning;\u2014that besides this, they all say that the art\nitself cannot be taught, and are ready to cut in pieces any one who says\nthat it can.\u2014Imagine further, that they are constantly crowding round\nthe pilot himself, begging, and forming all schemes to induce him to\ncommit the helm into their hands, and that sometimes even, when they do\nnot so well succeed in persuading him as others may, they either kill\nthese others, or throw them overboard, and after having, by mandragora\nor wine or something else, rendered the noble pilot incapable, they\nmanage the ship by aid of the crew, and sail on, thus drinking and\nfeasting, as may be expected of such people;\u2014and besides this, if any\none be clever at assisting them in getting the management into their own\nhands, and either by persuasion or force, setting aside the pilot, they\npraise such an one, calling him sailor and pilot, and versed in\nnavigation, but despise as useless every one not of this character,\u2014not\nin the least considering that the true pilot must necessarily study the\nyear, the seasons, the heavens, and stars, and winds, and everything\nbelonging to his art, if he would be a real commander of a ship; but at\nthe same time as respects the art and practice of governing men, whether\nsome be willing or not, they think it impossible for a man to attain it\nin connexion with the art of navigation.\u2014Whilst affairs are thus\nsituated as regards ships, do you not think that the true pilot will be\ncalled by the sailors on board of ships thus regulated, a mere\nstar-gazer,[188] trifler, and of no use to them whatever? Undoubtedly,\nsaid Adimantus. I think then, said I, that you do not want this\ncomparison explained, in order to see that it represents how people feel\nin states towards true philosophers, but that you quite understand what\nI mean. Perfectly, said he. First of all then, as regards this,\u2014namely,\na person\u2019s wondering that philosophers are not honoured in states,\u2014you\nmust acquaint him with our comparison, and try to persuade him, that it\nwould be much more wonderful if they were honoured. I will so, replied\nhe. And further, that it is quite true, as you were just observing, that\nthe best of those who study philosophy are useless to the bulk of\nmankind:\u2014but nevertheless, for all this, they intend to lay the blame\nnot on the philosophers, but on such as make no use of them,\u2014for it is\nnot natural that the pilot should beg of the sailors to allow him to\ngovern them, nor that the wise should hold attendance at the gates of\nthe rich:[189]\u2014and whoever wittily said this was mistaken; for this\nindeed is the natural method, that whoever is sick, whether rich or\npoor, must necessarily go to the gates of the physician, and whoever\nwants to be governed must wait on a person able to govern; for it is not\nnatural that a really worthy governor should beg of the governed to\nsubject themselves to his government.\u2014You will not be far wrong,\nhowever, in comparing our present political governors to those sailors\nwe now mentioned, and those whom they call insignificant and star-gazers\nto those who are truly pilots. Quite right, said he. Hence, then, it\nwould seem, that the best pursuit is not likely to be held in much\nhonour by persons engaged in those of an opposite nature,\u2014but by far the\ngreatest and most violent outcry against philosophy is caused by those\nwho profess its study;\u2014the very persons, whom most of all, you say, your\nreviler of philosophy calls downright wicked, and the very best useless;\nand I agreed that you spoke correctly,\u2014did I not? Yes.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 187:\n\n  The \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03ad\u03bb\u03b1\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2 was a mere fictitious or fabled animal, like the\n  griffin.\n\nFootnote 188:\n\n  \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5\u03c9\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03cc\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd, the usual term of reproach with which the Sophist\n  visited Socrates. Compare Apolog. Socr. p. 18 b; and see throughout\n  Aristophanes\u2019s caricature in his comedy of the Clouds.\n\nFootnote 189:\n\n  \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u03b8\u03cd\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f30\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9. The Scholiast has a long\n  note on this bon-mot, which he ascribes to Eubulus in a dialogue with\n  Socrates. Schleiermacher, however, following Diogenes Laertius (ii.\n  69), attributes it to Aristippus, and Schneider to Simonides, on the\n  authority of Aristotle, Rhetor. ii. 16.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. V.\u2014Have we not now fully explained the cause, why the best of them\nare useless? We have. Do you wish, then, that we should next explain the\nreason, why most of them must necessarily be depraved, and try also to\nshow, that philosophy is not the cause of this. Certainly. Let us open\nour argument then, by carefully calling to mind what we before observed\nabout the natural disposition necessarily belonging to the good and\nworthy [philosopher;]\u2014and if you remember, the leading part therein was\ntruth, which he must by all means wholly pursue, or else be a vain\nboaster, having no fellowship with true philosophy. Aye,\u2014so it was said.\nIs not this single part of his character wholly the reverse of what is\nat present held respecting him? Quite so, replied he. We shall be\nurging, therefore, no trifling argument in his defence, if we can show\nthat the true lover of learning is naturally inclined to aspire after\nthe knowledge of real being, and, so far from being arrested by the\nnumerous individual things which are the objects of opinion, that he\nproceeds undauntedly forward and desists not from his love of truth[190]\ntill he becomes acquainted with the nature of all existing things\nthrough the agency of that part of the soul whose business it is to take\ncognizance of such matters:\u2014but it is the office of that part of the\nsoul which is allied [to real being;] and when this true lover of\nlearning approaches thus far, and mingles therewith, thus giving rise to\nintellect and truth, he will attain to true knowledge, and truly live\nand be maintained, and at length become liberated from the pains of\nproduction,[191]\u2014but not before. As good a defence, said he, as there\npossibly can be. What then;\u2014will it be a part of such a person\u2019s\nbusiness to love falsehood, or quite the contrary, to hate it? To hate\nit, said he. While truth, however, leads the way, we can never say, I\nthink, that any band of evils follows in her train? No, we cannot. But\non the contrary, sound and just morals accompanied with temperance?\nRight, said he. Well then;\u2014is it necessary that we again examine and\nre-arrange all the qualities of a philosophic nature?\u2014for, no doubt, you\nremember that men of this character possess fortitude, magnanimity,\naptitude for learning, and a good memory; and when you said by way of\nrejoinder, that every one would be compelled to agree to our statement,\nwe quitted that subject, and turned to the subject of our present\ndiscourse\u2014your assertion of having found some of the philosophers\nuseless, and the majority also completely depraved.\u2014And in investigating\nthe cause of that calumny, we are at length come to inquire, how it is,\nthat the greater part of them are bad; and on this account we have again\nanalyzed the nature of true philosophers, and necessarily defined it. It\nis so, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 190:\n\n  Comp. here Book v., ch. 20 (p. 476, c, d).\n\nFootnote 191:\n\n  Gr. \u03bf\u1f55\u03c4\u03c9 \u03bb\u03ae\u03b3\u03bf\u03b9 \u1f60\u03b4\u1fd6\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2. Allusion is here made to the pangs attending\n  the birth of the idea and love of beauty\u2014\u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03bd,\u2014as more largely\n  treated in the Sympos. p. 206, b, e.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. VI.\u2014We must therefore, consider, said I, the corruptions of this\nnature, how it becomes ruined in many, so that only some few escape,\nwhom men call not depraved, but useless; and next we must consider those\ndispositions that counterfeit this nature, and only pretend to pursue\nit, and what is the nature also of those souls, which aspire to a\npursuit not belonging to them, and above their reach: for these persons,\nby their multiplied errors, have everywhere and among all men, attached\nthis opinion to philosophy which you are now mentioning. To what kind of\ncorruptions, said he, do you allude? I will try to recount them, said I,\nif I can.\u2014And this now, methinks, every one will allow us, that such a\nnature, with all the qualifications that we just now enjoined to a\nperson aspiring to be a perfect philosopher, is rarely to be found among\nmen, and of these there are but very few: do you not think so? Quite so.\nAnd among those few, just consider how many and how great are the causes\nof corruption. What are they? The most surprising of all to\nhear,\u2014namely, that of those qualities which we commended in the nature\nof a philosopher, each corrupts the soul possessing them, and withdraws\nit from philosophy\u2014from fortitude, I mean, and temperance, and all those\nother qualities which we enumerated. That is a strange saying, said he.\nAnd further still, said I;\u2014besides these things, all that are commonly\ncalled good,\u2014such as beauty, riches, bodily strength, a powerful family\nconnexion in the state,[192] and all that relates to these, corrupt and\nwithdraw it from philosophy:\u2014there, you now have the outline of what I\nmean. I have, he replied, and would be glad more clearly to understand\nwhat say. Apprehend, therefore, the whole of it aright, said I; and it\nwill become perfectly clear, and what we before said will not be thought\nabsurd. How then, said he, do you bid me act? With respect to every kind\nof seed, or plant, said I, whether of vegetables or animals, we know,\nthat what is not properly nurtured and has not its proper nourishment,\nor season, or place, the stronger it is, so many more kindly influences\ndoes it require,\u2014for evil is more contrary to good, than to that which\nis not good. Of course. It is reasonable then, I suppose, that the very\nbest nature, if supported on diet unsuited to it, should become worse\nthan one which is inferior? It is. Well then, Adimantus, said I, are we\nto say, that souls naturally the best, if badly trained, become more\nthan commonly depraved;\u2014or think you that gross iniquity and extreme\nwickedness arise from an inferior rather than from a good disposition\nruined in its education; whereas a weak disposition will never produce\neither great good or great evil? No,\u2014I think not, said he;\u2014and the case\nis as you say. If then this philosophic nature, that we have here\ndefined, meet with suitable training, it will of necessity grow up, I\nsuppose, and attain to every virtue; but if it be sown in an improper\nsoil, and grow up and be nurtured accordingly, it will become quite the\nreverse, unless one of the gods should by chance come to its\nassistance;\u2014think you then, as most do, that some youths are corrupted\nby sophists, and that these sophists are men in private life who corrupt\nthem in any matter soever that is worthy of their attention;\u2014or rather,\nthat the very persons who say these things are themselves the greatest\nsophists, conveying their instruction with most perfect skill, and\nrendering young and old, men and women, such as they wish them to be?\nWhen is that? said he. When many of them, said I, are seated and crowded\ntogether in an assembly, in their law-courts, theatres, camps, or other\npublic meetings of the people, and when they blame with much tumult some\nspeeches and acts, and commend others, shouting and stamping, [to see]\nwhich shall outvie the other;\u2014and besides this, the echo from the rocks\nand the place where they are sitting, redoubles the tumult of their\ndisapprobation and applause;\u2014in such a situation as this, what kind of\nheart, as the saying is, do you think the youth has; or what private\ninstruction can so restrain him, as to prevent him from being quite\noverwhelmed by such blame or applause, and from yielding and being\ncarried along the stream wherever it bears him;\u2014and will he not call\nthings beautiful and base, according as these people call them, and just\nas they pursue them, thus becoming of the very same character? This,\nsaid he, must of course be the case, Socrates.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 192:\n\n  Gr. \u03be\u03c5\u03b3\u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1 \u1f10\u1fe4\u1fe5\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7 \u1f10\u03bd \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9. Plato similarly speaks of political\n  connexions in the Sympos. p. 178 c:\u2014\u1f43 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c7\u03c1\u1f74 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03ce\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f21\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9\n  \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b2\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1ff6\u03c2 \u03b2\u03b9\u03ce\u03c3\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9, \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf \u03bf\u1f54\u03c4\u03b5 \u03be\u03c5\u03b3\u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1\n  \u03bf\u1f35\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b5 \u1f10\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03bf\u1f55\u03c4\u03c9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1ff6\u03c2, \u03bf\u1f54\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bf\u1f54\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f54\u03c4\u2019 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u03ad\u03bd.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. VII.\u2014And yet, said I, we have not yet mentioned what is the\ngreatest necessity of all. What is that? said he. What these, your\nteachers and sophists, add, by way of acts to their talk, when they\ncannot persuade:\u2014know you not that they punish with disgraces and fines\nand deaths, the man whom they cannot persuade? I know that, said he,\nextremely well. What other sophist then, or what private reasonings, do\nyou think, will counteract and overpower these? I know none, said he. Is\nit not besides, said I, great folly also even to attempt it?\u2014For there\nneither is, nor was, nor can ever possibly be, any other system as\nregards virtue, to be compared with this education by the sophists,\u2014I\nmean a human method, my friend; for a divine one, according to the\nproverb, we keep out of the question.[193]\u2014Indeed, you must well know,\nwith respect to whatever is preserved, and becomes what it ought in such\na constitution of government, that you will not be far wrong in deeming\nit preserved by divine destiny.[194] Nor am I; said he, of a different\nopinion. But further now, besides this, said I, you must also be of this\nopinion. Of what? That each of these hired private teachers, whom these\nmen call sophists and consider as rival artists, teach nothing else but\nthose dogmas of the vulgar, which they approve in their assemblies, and\nterm wisdom;\u2014just as if a man were to learn the tempers and desires of a\ngreat and strong animal that he is training,\u2014how it must be approached,\nhow touched, and when it is most fierce or most mild,\u2014and from what\nsorts it springs, and the sounds also which it is used occasionally to\nutter, and by what sounds when uttered by another, this beast is\nrendered either gentle or savage; and if, after learning all these\nthings by long associating with this animal, he should call this wisdom\nand apply himself to the teaching thereof, as to an established\nart,\u2014while yet, as regards these dogmas and desires, he has no real\nknowledge of what is beautiful or base, good or ill, just or unjust, but\ndefines them all by the opinions of that great animal, calling those\nthings good by which it is pleased, and those evil with which it is\nvexed, having no other measure respecting them, but calling things\nnecessary both just and beautiful, though he has never himself seen, nor\ncan show to another, the nature of the necessary and the good, and how\nfar they really differ from each other. Being such as this, then, do you\nnot, by Zeus, think him a ridiculous teacher? I do, he replied. And,\nthink you, he in any way differs from the man, who deems it wisdom to\nhave understood the tempers and pleasures of the multitude, and of mixed\nassemblies, either in painting, music, or politics?\u2014For if any one\nconverse with these, and show them either a poem, or other work of art,\nor piece of service connected with the state, and make the multitude the\njudges thereof, he is, beyond all other necessities, under what is\ncalled a \u201cDiomedean\u201d[195] necessity,\u2014that of doing whatever they\ncommend.\u2014But as respects these things being really good and beautiful,\ndid you ever hear any of them advance a reason that was not quite\nridiculous? No;\u2014and I think, said he, I never shall.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 193:\n\n  Ast conjectures that there was a well-known adage;\u2014\u03c4\u1f78 \u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03be\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u1ff6\n  \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5.\n\nFootnote 194:\n\n  Similarly in the Menon (p. 97 b, 100 b), Plato, in ridiculing the\n  statesmen of his own day, declares that they acquired virtue,\u2014not from\n  human instruction, but by a certain gift from heaven.\n\nFootnote 195:\n\n  A Diomedean necessity is a proverbial expression applied to those, who\n  do anything from necessity: its origin is as follows. Diomedes and\n  Ulysses, having stolen the Palladium from Ilium, returned by night to\n  their ships. Ulysses, however, most anxious that the glory of the deed\n  should be his alone, endeavoured to slay Diomedes, who walked before\n  him with the Palladium. Diomedes, however, on seeing by moonlight the\n  shadow of the sword raised over him, seized Ulysses, bound his hands,\n  bid him walk before him, and, after striking him on the back with the\n  flat part of his sword, proceeded onward, and at length reached the\n  Argive camp.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. VIII.\u2014Considering all these things, then, bear this in mind, that\nthe multitude never will admit or reckon that there is the one beautiful\nitself, and not many beautiful,\u2014one thing itself individually existing,\nand not many such individual things. They will be the last to do so, he\nreplied. It is impossible, then, for the multitude to be philosophers.\nImpossible. And those who philosophize must necessarily be subject to\ntheir reproach? Necessarily so. And likewise to that of those private\npersons, who, in conversing with the multitude, desire to please them?\nClearly. In consequence of this, then, what security do you see for the\nphilosophic nature to continue its pursuit, and arrive at\nperfection?\u2014And consider from what has gone before; for it has been\nadmitted, that aptitude for learning, memory, fortitude, and magnanimity\nbelong to this kind of disposition. Yes,\u2014it has. Will not such an one as\nthis, then, be the first of all men in all things whatever, especially\nif he have a body naturally suited to his soul? Of course he will, he\nreplied. And when he is further advanced in years, his kindred and\ncitizens, methinks, will be disposed to employ him in their affairs. Why\nnot? As suppliants then they will pay him homage, and submit to him,\nanticipating and flattering beforehand his growing power. Aye, said he,\nsuch is usually the case. What then, said I, think you such an one will\ndo under such circumstances, especially if he be a member of a great\nstate, rich, and nobly born, handsome withal and of large\nstature?[196]\u2014Will he not be filled with extravagant hopes, deeming\nhimself capable of managing the affairs both of Greeks and barbarians,\nand on this account demean himself loftily, being full of ostentation\nand vain conceit, but without judgment? Quite so, he replied. If one\nshould gently approach a man of this disposition, and tell him the\ntruth, that he has no judgment, but needs it;\u2014as judgment is only to be\nacquired by one who devotes himself as a slave to its acquisition, think\nyou, that, amidst all these evils it would be easy for him to hearken?\nFar from it, he replied. But if, said I, through a good natural temper,\nand innate attachment to reasoning, he were to acquire penetration, and\nthus be bent and drawn towards philosophy,\u2014what, think we, will those\nothers do, when they reckon on losing his services and company:\u2014will\nthey not by every action, and every speech, say and do all to the man to\nprevent his being persuaded,\u2014and as respects his adviser, take away all\nhis influence, both by forming private plots and arraigning him at\npublic trials? This, of course, must necessarily be the case, he\nreplied. Is it likely then, that such an one as this will be a\nphilosopher? Not at all.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 196:\n\n  It seems highly probable that Plato is here drawing a portrait of\n  Alcibiades, with whose general character this description most closely\n  tallies.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. IX.\u2014You see then, said I, that we were not wrong in saying, that\neven the very essentials of the philosophic disposition, are, when badly\ndirected, in some measure the cause of a falling off from this pursuit,\nas well as from those vulgarly reputed goods,\u2014riches, and all such-like\nmatters. No, certainly, he replied;\u2014that was correctly observed. Such\nthen, said I, admirable friend! is the ruin, such and so great the\ncorruption of the best nature for the best of all pursuits, and which,\nas we observe, is rarely elsewhere to be found:[197] and among these are\nthe men who do the greatest harm both to states and private persons, and\nthose also who do the greatest good, such as are drawn to one particular\nside, [viz. what is good:]\u2014whereas small talents do nothing great for\nany one, either private person or state. Most true, said he. Since\nthose, then, who thus fall off, whose chief business was to apply to\nphilosophy, and who, leaving her deserted and imperfect, lead themselves\na life neither becoming nor true,\u2014while on this same philosophy other\nunworthy persons have intruded and disgraced her, loading her with\nreproaches, such as those with which you say her revilers reproach\nher:\u2014of those who engage with her,\u2014some are worth nothing, and most of\nthem deserve great punishments. Aye surely, this, replied he, is\ncommonly said. Aye,\u2014and said too with reason, replied I;\u2014for other\ncontemptible men seeing the field unoccupied, and the possession of it\nfollowed by dignities and honourable names, just like persons who take\nrefuge from their prisons in the temples, these likewise gladly leap\nfrom their trade-crafts to philosophy;\u2014such of them I mean, as are most\nadept in their own little art.\u2014Indeed, even in this position of\nphilosophy, her remaining dignity, in comparison with all the other\narts, is still of surpassing magnificence,\u2014which dignity many eagerly\ncovet, who yet are of an imperfect nature, and have bodies not only\ndeformed by their arts and crafts, but souls likewise that are broken\nand crushed by their servile occupations:[198]\u2014must it not necessarily\nbe so? Undoubtedly, said he. Think you, then, said I, that they at all\ndiffer in appearance from a bald and puny blacksmith, who having made a\nlittle money, has been newly liberated from chains, and washed in the\nbath,[199] with a new robe on him, just decked out as a bridegroom,\npresuming, on account of his master\u2019s poverty and forlorn situation, to\npropose for his daughter\u2019s hand? There is no great difference, replied\nhe. What sort of a race must such as these produce;\u2014must it not be\nbastardly and abject? Certainly,\u2014it must. But what;\u2014when persons\nunworthy of instruction study it, and meddle with it unworthily, what\nkind of sentiments and opinions must we say come from them?\u2014Must they\nnot be such as to be properly termed sophisms, and neither genuine, nor\nallied to true discretion? Wholly so, of course, he replied.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 197:\n\n  Gr. \u1f40\u03bb\u03af\u03b3\u03b7\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03c2 \u03b3\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2, \u1f61\u03c2 \u1f21\u03bc\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c6\u03b1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd.\n\nFootnote 198:\n\n  We give the Greek entire:\u2014\u03bf\u1f57 \u03b4\u1f74 \u1f10\u03c6\u03b9\u03ad\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u1f76 \u1f00\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2\n  \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, \u1f51\u03c0\u1f78 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5\u03c7\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b3\u03b9\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f65\u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c3\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\n  \u03bb\u03b5\u03bb\u03ce\u03b2\u03b7\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, \u03bf\u1f55\u03c4\u03c9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u1f70\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c5\u03b3\u03ba\u03b5\u03ba\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03b8\u03c1\u03c5\u03bc\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\n  \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u03b2\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u03c5\u03b3\u03c7\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd.\n\nFootnote 199:\n\n  The elegant play on the words \u03bb\u03b5\u03bb\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 and \u03bb\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 is wholly lost\n  in the translation.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. X.\u2014An extremely small number is left, said I, Adimantus, of those\nwho engage worthily in philosophy,\u2014men of that noble and well-cultivated\nnature, which somehow seeks retirement, and naturally persists in\nphilosophic study, through the absence of corrupting tendencies; or it\nmay be, in a small state, some mighty soul arises, who has despised and\nwholly neglected civil honours;\u2014and there may be some small portion\nperhaps, who, having a naturally good disposition, hold other arts in\njust contempt, and then turn to philosophy.\u2014These the bridle of our\nfriend Theages will probably be able to restrain; for all other things\nare calculated to withdraw Theages from philosophy, while the care of\nhis health occupies him to the exclusion of politics:[200]\u2014and as to\nwhat concerns myself, namely the sign of my demon, it is not worth while\nto mention that; for I think it has heretofore been met with only by one\nother, if any at all.\u2014And even of these few [they are] such as taste,\nand have tasted, how sweet and blessed is the acquisition of philosophy,\nand have withal sufficiently observed the madness of the multitude, and\nthat none of them, as I may say, does what is wholesome in state\nmatters, and that a man can get none to aid him in securely succouring\nthe just, but is like one falling among wild beasts, neither willing nor\nable to aid them in doing wrong, as one only against a host of wild\ncreatures, and so without doing any good either to the state or his\nfriends, perishes unprofitably to all the world. Quietly reasoning on\nall these things, and attending to his own affairs, like a man sheltered\nunder a wall in a storm of dust and foam borne along on the wind, by\nwhich he sees all about him overwhelmed in disorder, such an one is\ncontent anyhow to pass his life pure from injustice and unholy deeds,\nand to effect his exit hence with good hopes cheerful and agreeable.\nAye,\u2014and he will make his exit, said he, without having done even the\nleast of them. Nor the greatest either, said I;\u2014because he has not found\na suitable form of government; for in one that suits him, he will both\nmake greater progress himself, and together with the affairs of private\npersons, will preserve those of the public also.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 200:\n\n  Theages is stated in the Apology of Socrates (p. 33 c), to be the son\n  of Demodocus and the brother of Paralus, and to have been most\n  desirous of attaining to a knowledge of the Socratic philosophy;\u2014and\n  we are here told that his delicate health hindered him from\n  persevering in its pursuit:\u2014so true is the saying of Plutarch (de\n  Sanit. tuend. p. 126 b), \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u1f00\u1fe4\u1fe5\u03c9\u03c3\u03c4\u03af\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03ad\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XI.\u2014As respects philosophy, then, for what reasons it has been\ntraduced, and that it has been so unjustly, we have, I think,\nsufficiently stated,\u2014unless you have anything else to allege. Nay, said\nhe;\u2014I can say nothing further about this point:\u2014but which of the present\nforms of government do you conceive to be suited to philosophy? None\nwhatever, said I; and this particularly is what I complain of, that no\nexisting constitution of a state is worthy of the philosophic nature;\nand on this account therefore it is turned and altered, just as a\nforeign seed sown in an improper soil becomes worthless, and has a\ntendency to fall under the influence of the soil in which it is\nplaced;\u2014so this race likewise has not at present its proper power, but\ndegenerates to some pattern foreign to it;\u2014but in case that it does meet\nwith the best form of government, being itself also best, it will then\nbe evident that this is really divine, and all others only human, both\nas to their natures and pursuits:\u2014but as a matter of course you are\nevidently about to ask what is this form of government? You are\nmistaken, said he,\u2014for this I was not going to ask; but whether it be\nthis, which we have described in establishing our state, or some other.\nAs regards all other things, said I, it is this one:\u2014and this very thing\nwas then mentioned, that there must always be in our state something\nhaving the same regard for the government, which you the legislator had\nin establishing the laws. Aye,\u2014that was mentioned, said he. Yes, but,\nsaid I, it was not made sufficiently clear, owing to the fear of what\nyou objected, when you showed also, that the illustration of the thing\nwould be both tedious and difficult;\u2014for indeed it is not on the whole\nquite easy to discuss what remains. What is that? In what manner a state\nis to undertake the study of philosophy, so as not itself to be\ndestroyed; for all great pursuits are dangerous; and,\u2014as the saying\nis,\u2014those noble even are truly difficult. But still, rejoined he, let\nour demonstration be completed by making this evident. Want of\ninclination, said I, will not hinder, though possibly want of power\nmay:\u2014and now you shall at once be assured of my readiness.\u2014Consider\nindeed, how readily and adventurously I am about to assert, that a state\nought to attempt this study in a way opposite to what it does at\npresent. How? At present, said I, those who engage in it are striplings,\nwho, quite from childhood, amidst their domestic affairs and lucrative\nemployments, betake themselves to most abstruse inquiries, considering\nthemselves consummate philosophers,\u2014(and I call what respects reasoning,\nthe most difficult of all;)\u2014and should they in after-time be invited by\nothers practising this art, they are pleased to become hearers, and\nthink it a great condescension, reckoning they ought to do it as a\nby-work:\u2014but towards old age, with the exception indeed of some few,\nthey are extinguished even more than the Heraclitean[201] sun, because\nthey are never again rekindled. But how should they act? said he. Quite\nthe reverse of what they do:\u2014while they are lads and youths they should\nstudy youthful learning and philosophy,[202] and, take special care of\nthe body, during its growth and strengthening by inviting its services\nto the aid of philosophy; and then, as that time of life progresses,\nduring which the soul is attaining its perfection, they should\nvigorously apply to her exercises;\u2014but when strength decays, and is no\nlonger suited for civil and military employments, they should then be\ndismissed, and live at pleasure, with the exception of a by-work, [that\nis, studying philosophy,]\u2014if indeed they propose to live happy, and,\nwhen they die, possess in the other world, a destiny suited to the life\nwhich they have led in this.\n\nCHAP. XII.\u2014How truly do I think, Socrates, said he, that you speak with\nready zeal:\u2014I think, however, that most of your hearers will still more\nzealously oppose you, and by no means be persuaded, and Thrasymachus\neven first. Do not divide Thrasymachus and me, said I, who are now\nbecome friends, though not enemies heretofore; for we will not at all\nrelax our efforts, till we either persuade both him and the rest, or\nmake some advances towards that life, on attaining which they will again\nmeet with such discourses as these. You have spoken, said he, only for a\nshort time. No time at all, said I, as compared at least with the whole\nof time: but that the multitude are not persuaded by what is said, is no\nwonder; for they have never as yet seen that what was mentioned actually\ncame to pass, but rather that they were certain mere words cleverly\nfitted to each other, and not as now coming out spontaneously:\u2014and as\nregards the man, who is, as completely as possible, squared and made\nconsistent with virtue both in word and deed, holding power in a state\nof such different character; they have never at all seen either one or\nmore of the kind:\u2014do you think they have? By no means. And again, as\nrespects arguments, my excellent friend, they have not sufficiently\nlistened to what are fair and liberal, such as persevere in the search\nfor truth, by every method, for the mere sake of knowledge, saluting at\na distance[203] such intricate and contentious questions, as tend only\nto opinion and strife, either in their law-courts or private meetings.\nNot even as respects these, he replied. On these accounts then, said I,\nand foreseeing these things, we, although with fear, still asserted\n(compelled by truth), that neither state nor government, nor even a man\nin the same way, could ever become perfect, till some need of fortune\nshould compel those few philosophers, who at present are termed not\ndepraved but useless, to take the government of the state, whether they\nwill or not, and oblige it to be obedient to them; or till the sons of\nthose who are now in high offices and magistracies, or they themselves,\nbe by some divine inspiration filled with a true love of sincere\nphilosophy: and I am sure that no one can reasonably suppose either or\nboth of these to be impossible; for thus might we justly be derided, as\nsaying things which otherwise are only like wishes:\u2014is it not so? It is.\nIf then, in the infinite series of past ages, absolute necessity has\ncompelled men who have reached the summit of philosophy to take the\ngovernment of a state,\u2014or even if such is now the case in some barbarous\nregion, remote from our observation, or is likely to be the case\nhereafter, we are ready, in that case, to advance in argument, that this\nform of government just described has existed and now exists [in\npossibility,] and will actually arise, when this our muse shall obtain\nthe government of the state: for this is neither impossible to happen,\nnor do we speak of impossibilities, though we ourselves confess that\nthey are difficult. I too, said he, am of the same opinion. But you will\nsay, replied I, that the multitude are not of that opinion? Very likely,\nsaid he. My excellent friend, said I, do not thus altogether condemn the\nmultitude; and do not upbraid them for their opinion, but rather\nencourage them,\u2014remove the reproach thrown on philosophy,\u2014and point out\nto them the persons you call philosophers, defining distinctly, as at\npresent, both their genius and pursuits, that they may not think that\nyou speak of such as they themselves call philosophers.\u2014Indeed, if they\ntalk of the same men, will you not say that they have conceived a\ndifferent opinion of the men from what you have, and give very different\nreplies from yours; and think you that one man can be angered at\nanother, who is not angry himself; or that a man will envy the envious,\nwho is himself free from envy, and of a gentle temper? I will anticipate\nyou by saying, that I think some few, though not the great mass of\nmankind, have naturally so bad a temper as you have described. I am\nquite of that opinion also, said he. Are you then of my opinion in this\nalso,\u2014namely, that, as regards the ill-feeling of the populace towards\nphilosophy, those people from without, [_i. e._ the sophists,] are the\nreal cause of it, by making an indecent and turbulent irruption\nthereinto, insulting and showing a downright hatred of philosophers,\never directing their discourses at particular men, and so doing what\nleast of all becomes philosophy? Certainly, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 201:\n\n  Heraclitus the Ephesian said that the sun descended to the western\n  sea, and at its setting was extinguished,\u2014being again enkindled when\n  it ascended above the earth in the east; and that this took place\n  perpetually.\n\nFootnote 202:\n\n  The Scholiast suggests, that Plato here refers to mathematical\n  science: but Stallbaum conceives with far greater probability, that\n  allusion is made to all liberal or musical arts whatsoever, which are\n  to be studied as disciplines for the mind, just as gymnastics are\n  practised to promote the growth and strength of the body.\n\nFootnote 203:\n\n  Gr. \u03c0\u03cc\u1fe4\u1fe5\u03c9\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u1f00\u03c3\u03c0\u03b1\u03b6\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd, an elegant phrase equivalent to \u03c7\u03b1\u03af\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\n  \u1f10\u03ce\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, _bidding farewell to_. Perhaps Plato had in memory the line of\n  Euripides, Hippolyt. v. 101, where Hippolytus accosts Aphrodite\u2014\n\n                    \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03c3\u03c9\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f01\u03b3\u03bd\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f62\u03bd \u1f00\u03c3\u03c0\u03ac\u03b6\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XIII.\u2014In fact, Adimantus, the man who really applies his intellect\nto reflect on true being, probably has no leisure to look down on the\nlittle affairs of mankind, and by fighting with them, become filled with\nenvy and ill-nature; but on the other hand, beholding and contemplating\nobjects that are orderly, always self-consistent and stable,[204] such\nas neither injure nor are injured by each other, but are in all respects\nbeautiful and consonant with reason, these he imitates and resembles as\nfar as possible:\u2014what, think you it at all possible, that a man will not\nimitate what he admires as soon as he is conversant therewith?\nImpossible, he replied. The philosopher then, who is occupied with what\nis divine and orderly, becomes himself divine and orderly, as far as\nlies in man\u2019s power:\u2014yet in all there is great room for blame. Most\nassuredly. If then, said I, he should be any how compelled to try to\nintroduce among men what he beholds there [in his world of\ncontemplation,] with a view of forming their manners, both in private\nand public, and not merely to form himself alone,\u2014would he prove, think\nyou, a bad artist, in the matter of temperance and justice and every\ncivil virtue? Not at all, said he. But, supposing that the multitude\nshould perceive that we are speaking the truth about him, [_i. e._ the\nphilosopher,] will they be angry at philosophers and discredit our\nassertion, that the state can never otherwise be happy, except as\nportrayed by painters who employ a divine pattern?[205] They will not be\nangry, said he, if they do perceive it: but what method of painting do\nyou mean? When they have got for their groundwork, said I, the state and\nmanners of mankind, they would first make them pure, which is not\naltogether an easy matter; for you know, that in this they differ from\nothers,\u2014in being unwilling to meddle either with a private man or state,\nor to prescribe laws, till they have either received them as pure, or\nthemselves have made them so. Rightly too, said he. And after this,\nthink you not they will draw a sketch of their form of government? Of\ncourse. Afterwards, I think, as they proceed in their work, they will\nfrequently look in two directions,\u2014not only to what is naturally just\nand beautiful, and temperate and the like, but also, again, to that\nwhich they can establish among mankind, blending and compounding their\nhuman form out of different human characters and pursuits, drawing from\nwhat Homer calls the divine likeness, and the divine resemblance\nsubsisting among men? Right, said he. They will, of course, I think,\nerase one thing, and put in another, till they have, as far as possible,\nmade human morals pleasing to the gods? At that rate, said he, the\npicture will be most beautiful. In this case, said I, do we at all\nsucceed in persuading these men, who, you said, were coming upon us in\nbattle-array, that a person who can thus depict governments is the man\nwe then recommended to them,\u2014and on whose account they were angry with\nus, for committing to him our states:\u2014and will they now be more mild,\nwhen they hear our mention thereof? Certainly, said he, if they be\nwise:\u2014for what is there now, that they can further question?\u2014will they\nassert that philosophers are not lovers of real being and truth? That,\nsaid he, were absurd. Or that their disposition, as just described, is\nnot allied to what is best? Nor this either. What then;\u2014will not a\ndisposition such as we have described, by finding suitable employments,\nbecome perfectly good and philosophic, if any other be so;\u2014will men say\nthat those more attain to it, whom we have selected? Not at all. Will\nthey still then be indignant at us for saying, that until the\nphilosophic race have the government of the state, the miseries neither\nof state nor citizens can have an end, nor can this government, which we\nideally describe, be ever perfectly realized? Perhaps somewhat less\nindignant, rejoined he. Is it your wish, then, said I, that we say\u2014not\nthat they are somewhat less [indignant,] but that they have become\naltogether mild, and are persuaded, that they will at least consent, if\nno more, through very shame? By all means, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 204:\n\n  The reader will take in connexion with this what had been stated at\n  the close of the first chapter of this book,\u2014that the philosopher\u2019s\n  studies were concerned with real and eternal being, and not allowed to\n  wander to the changeable and destructible\u2014\u03bf\u1f50 \u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd \u1f51\u03c0\u1f78 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03ad\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c6\u03b8\u03bf\u03c1\u1fb6\u03c2.\n\nFootnote 205:\n\n  Philosophers ideally contemplating the image of a perfect state are\n  here elegantly compared to painters about to make an original design\n  of a city, who of course require that their tablets be clean, ere they\n  commence their drawing.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XIV.\u2014Let them then, said I, be persuaded of this:\u2014-and is there\nany one who will dispute this,\u2014that men of a philosophic disposition do\nnot usually spring from kings and sovereigns? No one, said he, would\nassert that. And though they be born of such a character, one may say\nthey are necessarily prone to be corrupted; for indeed, it is a hard\nmatter for them to be preserved untainted, even we ourselves agree;\u2014but\nwill any one contend throughout all time, that not one of the whole\nhuman race, would be preserved pure and untainted? How can there be? But\nsurely, said I, any individual born with adequate abilities, and who has\nhis state in obedience to him, can accomplish everything now so much\ndisbelieved? Yes, for he is adequate to his task, said he. And when the\ngovernor, said I, establishes the laws and customs here detailed, it is\nnot at all impossible for him to make the citizens willingly obey him?\nIn no way whatever. But is it wonderful or impossible, that what is our\nopinion should be the opinion of others also? I, at least, do not think\nso, said he. And that these things are best, if they be possible, we\nhave, I think, sufficiently explained in the former part of our\ndiscourse. Yes, quite sufficiently. Now then, it seems, we are agreed\nabout our legislation; that the laws we mention are the best, if they\ncould be realized,\u2014and that if it be hard to establish them, yet it is\nnot impossible? Yes,\u2014we are agreed, said he.\n\nCHAP. XV.\u2014Since this then has been with difficulty brought to a\nconclusion, shall we not next consider what remains;\u2014in what manner, and\nin consequence of what sciences and pursuits, they will become installed\nas the preservers of the government, and at what periods of life they\nwill all apply to their several pursuits? Aye, we must talk of this,\nobserved he. My cunning has done me no service, said I, in having left\nuntouched, in the former part of our discourse, the difficulty attending\nthe possession of women, and the procreation of children, and the\nestablishment of governors, knowing how invidious the business is, and\nfull of difficulty, even though it be perfectly true and correct:\u2014for we\nare now under no less a compulsion of entering into these details.\u2014What\nrelates to women and children has already been brought to a close; and\nas to what concerns the governors, we must now from the beginning\nreconsider that subject.\u2014We have alleged, if you remember, that they\nshould appear to be lovers of the state,\u2014proved to be so both by\npleasures and pains, and not seen to abandon this principle, either\nthrough toils or fears or any other change; and that he who cannot do\nthis should be rejected; while as for him who comes forth altogether\npure, as gold tried in the fire, we should appoint him ruler, and endow\nhim with honours and rewards both during life and after death. Such was\nwhat we said, when our argument was wandering and assuming a veil,\nthrough fear of disturbing the present state of things. You speak quite\ntruly, said he;\u2014for I remember it. Yes,\u2014for I was loath, to say, my\nfriend, what I must now venture to assert:\u2014but now this assertion must\nat any rate be ventured,\u2014that the most perfect guardians must be\nestablished philosophers. Yes,\u2014that has been stated, replied he. But\nconsider, I pray, that you will probably have only a few of these; for\nsuch a disposition, as we declared that they must necessarily have, is\nbut rarely used to centre in one single individual; though its different\nparts are commonly found in many different persons. How say you? he\nreplied. That such as learn with facility, have a good memory, are\nsagacious and acute, and endued with all qualifications thereto allied,\nare yet not at the same time of so vigorous and lofty an intellect, as\nto live orderly, with calmness and constancy, but are carried hapchance\nby mere buoyancy of spirits, and are deserted by everything like\nstability. Your remark is true, replied he. Well then, these firm habits\nof the mind, which are not easily changeable, and which one might\nspecially employ as trusty, and which in time of war are hard to be\nexcited to terror;\u2014and similarly also as regards learning,\u2014they move\nheavily, and learn with difficulty, as if benumbed, and oppressed with\nsleep and yawning, when compelled to labour at any work of this\ndescription? It is so, replied he. But we said, that he ought to have a\ngood and fair share of both these, or else should have no share whatever\neither in the most perfect kind of education, or in magisterial\ndignities or state-honours? Right, said he. Do not you think then, that\nthis will but rarely happen? Of course it will. They must be tried then\nboth in what we before alluded to,\u2014labours, fears, and pleasures;\u2014and\nlikewise in what we then passed over, and are now mentioning;\u2014we must\nexercise them in various kinds of learning, with due regard for the\npower of their talents to go through the highest branches of study, or\nelse their failure, as that of persons failing in all other things. It\nis fit now, said he, that we consider this question in this manner:\u2014but\nwhat kind of studies are they, which you call the highest?\n\nCHAP. XVI.\u2014You remember, perhaps, said I, that when we divided the soul\ninto three parts, we defined the nature respectively of justice,\ntemperance, fortitude, and wisdom? If I did not remember, said he, I\nshould have no right to hear what remains. [Do you remember likewise]\nwhat was said before that? What was it? We somewhere said, that it was\npossible to behold these in their most beautiful forms, but that the\njourney would be tedious, which a person must make, who would see them\nclearly; yet that it was possible, to approach them through our proofs\nbefore mentioned, and you said also, that these were sufficient; so,\nwhat was then asserted fell in my opinion far short of the truth; though\nif agreeable to you, you may say so. I at least thought, replied he,\nthat they had been discussed in fair measure; and the rest seemed to\nthink so too. But my friend, said I, in speaking of things of this kind,\nsuch a measure as omits any part whatever of the truth is not wholly in\nmeasure;\u2014for nothing imperfect is the measure of anything;\u2014though people\nsometimes think that things are sufficiently well when thus\ncircumstanced, and there is no need for further inquiry. Very many, said\nhe, thus behave through indolence. But the guardian of the state and the\nlaws, said I, should least of all be thus affected. So it seems, replied\nhe. Such an one, then, my friend, said I, must make a more comprehensive\ncircuit, and labour as much in learning as in exercising himself:\notherwise, as we were just saying, he will never arrive at the summit of\nthe greatest and most suitable learning. But are not these branches the\nhighest:\u2014or is there, said he, any one yet higher than justice, and\nthose virtues which we have discussed? There is something greater, said\nI; and even of these we must not, as just now, only contemplate the mere\nrude sketch; but we must not omit even its complete elaboration: is it\nnot ridiculous in other things of small moment to employ our whole\nlabour, and strive to attain the utmost accuracy and perfection, and yet\nnot deem the highest and most important affairs worthy of our highest\nattention, with a view to making them as perfect as possible? The\nsentiment, said he, is very just:\u2014but with respect to the question,\u2014what\nis this most important branch of study, and about what you say it is\nemployed,\u2014think you that any one will let you go without asking its\nnature? Not at all, said I:\u2014but do you ask; although you have assuredly\noften heard it, but at present you do not bear it in mind, or else\nintend to embarrass me by raising objections:\u2014and I think this the more,\nas you have often heard at least, that the idea of the good is the\nhighest branch of study;\u2014about which, when justice and the other virtues\nemploy themselves, they then become useful and advantageous.\u2014Now then,\nyou know pretty well that I mean to say this, and besides, that we do\nnot sufficiently know that idea; and without this knowledge, though we\nwere to understand everything else as fully as possible, yet you know\nthat it could be of no service whatever to us: in the same manner as no\npossession whatever would be of aught avail, without the possession of\nthe good:\u2014and think you that it is more profitable to possess all things\nwithout the possession of the good than to know all things without the\nknowledge of the good, having no perception at all of the beautiful and\ngood? Not I, by Zeus, he exclaimed.\n\nCHAP. XVII.\u2014Of this, moreover, you may be quite certain, that to the\nmultitude pleasure seems to be the good, while the more refined think it\nto be virtue. How otherwise? And you know also, my friend, that those\nwho hold this opinion, are unable to show what knowledge is, but are\ncompelled at last to call it the knowledge of the good. Aye, and most\nabsurdly too, said he. How indeed can it be otherwise, replied I, if\nwhen upbraiding us for not knowing the good, they yet speak as to\npersons knowing it,[206] and say that knowledge is good itself, as if we\nunderstood their meaning when pronouncing the word \u201cthe good?\u201d Most\ntrue, said he. But what? those who define pleasure to be good, are they\nless in error than the others; or are not these too compelled to confess\nthat pleasures are evil? Quite so. It happens then, I think, that they\nacknowledge the same things to be both good and evil,\u2014do they not?\nUndoubtedly. Is it not clear, then, that on this point there are great\nand manifold varieties of opinion? Of course there are. But what;\u2014is it\nnot clear also, that with reference to things just and beautiful, the\nmultitude choose what is apparent, even though it has no real existence,\nyet acting and possessing and appearing to possess it;\u2014though the\nacquisition of only apparent goods, never yet satisfied any one:\u2014for\npeople on the other hand seek what is real, and all men despise what is\nonly apparent? Just so, said he. This then is what every soul pursues,\nand for the sake of which it does everything, conjecturing it to be\nsomething, though still in doubt, and unable either fully to comprehend\nits nature, or employ belief alone respecting it as of other things; and\nhence is it, that they fail of success even in other matters however\nuseful.\u2014Are we to say then, that about a matter of this nature, and of\nsuch vast consequence, even the best men in the state, to whom we commit\nthe management of all things, will be thus in the dark? By no means,\nsaid he. I am of opinion then, said I, that the just and the beautiful,\nso long as they are unknown in what particular way they are good, cannot\nbe of any great importance to have a guardian who is ignorant of this;\nand I suspect that no one will before this attain a sufficient knowledge\nthereof. Yes,\u2014you guess rightly, observed he. Will not our government,\ntherefore, have been completely set in order, if a guardian be set over\nit that is scientifically acquainted with these things?\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 206:\n\n  The meaning is;\u2014that as such persons are forced to allow that\n  knowledge of itself is not the highest good, but should be referred to\n  the highest good, as the arbiter thereof,\u2014those persons run into an\n  absurd error, who denying that we have any knowledge of \u201cthe good,\u201d\n  yet so act as if we had a sufficient knowledge thereof,\u2014fixing their\n  notion on some abstract theory of good.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XVIII.\u2014It must of necessity, said he:\u2014but yet with respect to\nyourself, Socrates, say you that the good is science, or pleasure, or\nsomething independent of these? Oh, you fine fellow, said I, you long\nago clearly showed that you were not to be satisfied with other men\u2019s\nopinions about these matters. Nor does it seem to me just, Socrates,\nsaid he, that a man should keep talking of other men\u2019s opinions, and not\nhis own, after having spent so much time in inquiring about these\nparticulars. But what, said I;\u2014do you think it just then, that a man\nshould talk about matters of which he is ignorant, just as if he knew\nthem? By no means as if he knew them, said he; yet, according to his\nthoughts, whatever he thinks he should willingly tell us. But what, said\nI;\u2014have you not observed respecting unscientific opinions, how\ncontemptible they all are, and the best of them blind;\u2014and think you,\nthat these persons, who without intellect form true opinions, are at all\ndifferent from blind men walking on the right road? Not at all, said he.\nDo you wish, then, that we should contemplate things base, blind, and\ncrooked, when it is in our power to hear from others what is clear and\nbeautiful? By Zeus, Socrates, said Glaucon, do not stop here, as if you\nhad come to a close; for we shall be satisfied, if, in the same way as\nyou have spoken of justice, temperance, and the other virtues, you will\nin like manner discourse of the good. And I too shall be very well\nsatisfied, my friend, said I; but [I am afraid] that I shall not be\nable, and so, by my readiness may incur the ridicule of unmannerly\npersons.\u2014But, my excellent friends, let us at present dismiss[207] this\ninquiry about the nature of the good, (for it seems to me more, as far\nas I now think, than we can attain, in our present attempt): but I am\nwilling to tell you, if you please, what I conceive to be the offspring\nof the good, and its nearest representation; and if not, I shall dismiss\nit. Well then, tell us, said he; for you shall afterwards acquit\nyourself of your debt by telling us of its parent. I could wish, said I,\nboth that I were able to oblige you by explaining that, and not as now\nthe offspring only and interest of my debt.[208] This child and\noffspring of the good itself, pray receive;\u2014but still take due care that\nI deceive you nowise unwillingly by paying my account of this offspring\nin base coin. We will take care of that, said he, as far as we can:\u2014only\ndo you tell us. I will then, said I, when we are once thoroughly agreed,\nand I have reminded you of what was before mentioned, and has been often\nsaid on other occasions. What is that? said he. That there are many\nthings beautiful, said I, and many good also; and each of these we\ndeclare to be so, and so define them in our argument. Yes, so we say.\nBut as to the beautiful itself and the good itself, and similarly as to\nall those things which we then considered as of various natures, we are\nnow again establishing them according to the unity of the general idea,\nto which we conceive each related; and these indeed, we say, are\nobserved by the eye, but are not objects of intellectual perception;\nwhereas the ideas are perceived by the intellect, not seen by the eye.\nAssuredly. By what part then of ourselves do we see things visible? By\nthe sight, said he. And is it not, said I, by hearing, that we perceive\nwhat is heard; and by the other senses, all the other objects of sense?\nOf course. But have you not perceived, said I, as regards the artificer\nof the senses, with what perfect skill he has formed the power of\nseeing, and being seen? Not quite, he replied. But consider it thus:\u2014is\nthere a third kind of faculty required by the hearing and voice, in\norder that the one may hear and the other be heard, in the absence of\nwhich the one will not hear, and the other not be heard? There is not,\nsaid he. I conceive, said I, that many others also (not to say, none at\nall) require no such thing:\u2014can you name any one that does? Not I, he\nreplied. But with reference to the sense of seeing and the object of\nsight, do you not perceive that they require something? How? When there\nis sight in the eyes, and when he who has it attempts to use it, and\nwhen there is colour in the objects before him, unless there concur some\nthird kind of medium naturally formed for the purpose,\u2014the sight, you\nare aware, will see nothing, and colours will be invisible. What is this\nof which you are now speaking? inquired he. What you call light, said I.\nYour remark is true, replied he. This sense of seeing then, and power of\nbeing seen, are no unimportant ideas, and are connected by a bond more\nprecious than all other bonds, if light be not valueless. But it is far,\nsaid he, from being valueless.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 207:\n\n  Socrates says this in consequence of the inability of his auditors to\n  understand the nature of _the good_: for the Greek Scholiast well\n  observes on this part of the Republic, that it is through the\n  inaptitude of subordinate natures that the more excellent are unable\n  to energize. \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u1f70 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b4\u03b5\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03b5\u03c0\u03b9\u03c4\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03cc\u03c4\u03b7\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03ba\u03c1\u03b5\u03af\u03c4\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03b1\n  \u1f00\u03b4\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd.\n\nFootnote 208:\n\n  The _equivoque_ of the word \u03c4\u03cc\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 is difficult to translate; as it\n  signifies equally _children_, _productions_, and _the interest of a\n  debt_. The word \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03ae\u03c1, if \u03c4\u03cc\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 be taken in the latter sense, will\n  refer to _the capital_. Comp. Aristotle, Polit. i. ch. 10\u2014\u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u1fc6\u03c2\n  \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f10\u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf \u03c7\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd, \u1f41 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u03cc\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03c0\u03bb\u03ad\u03bf\u03bd. \u1f45\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1f54\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u2019\n  \u03b5\u1f34\u03bb\u03b7\u03c6\u03b5\u03bd\u00b7 \u1f45\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03c4\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u1ff6\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03ac \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd, \u1f41 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u03cc\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2\n  \u03b3\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1 \u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03af\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2. Plato uses the same figure in the\n  Politicus, p. 267 a.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XIX.\u2014Whom then of the gods in heaven can you assign as the cause\nof this,\u2014that light makes our sight to see, and visible objects to be\nseen, in the best manner? The same, he replied, as you and others do;\nfor it is evident that you mean the sun. Does not sight then derive its\nnature through its relation to this god? How?\u2014The sight is not the sun,\nnor is that the sun, in which sight is engendered,\u2014which we call the\neye. It is not. But yet, methinks, this at least of all the organs of\nsense is most sun-like? Very much so. And the power which it possesses,\ndoes it not possess, as dispensed and emanating hence? Certainly. Is not\nthe sun then, though not sight itself, but the principle thereof, seen\nby sight itself? It is so, said he. This then, said I, be assured, is\nwhat I called the offspring of _the good_, which _the good_ generates,\nanalogous to itself; and what this is in the sphere of intelligence,\nwith reference to intellect, and the objects of intellect, that the sun\nis in the visible [world] with reference to sight and visible things.\nHow is that? said he: pray further explain it. You are aware, that the\neyes, said I, when directed towards objects, whose colours are no longer\nvisited by the light of day,[209] but by the glimmerings of the night,\ngrow dim and appear almost blind, as if they had in them no pure vision.\nJust so, said he. But when they turn to objects which the sun\nilluminates, then, methinks, they see clearly, and in those very eyes\nthere now appears vision. There does. Understand the same, then, to be\nthe case with reference to the soul.\u2014When it firmly adheres to what is\nenlightened by truth and real being, then it understands and knows it,\nand appears to possess intellect; but when it adheres to what is blended\nwith darkness, and is subject to generation and destruction, it then has\nto do with opinion, and is dull, wandering from one opinion to another,\nlike one without intellect. So it seems. That therefore which imparts\ntruth to what is known, and dispenses the faculty of knowledge to him\nwho knows, you may call the idea of _the good_ and the principle of\nscience and truth, as being known through intellect. And as both\nthese,\u2014knowledge and truth, are so beautiful, you will be right in\nthinking that the good is something different, and still more beautiful\nthan these. Science and truth here are as light and sight there, which\nwe rightly judged to be sun-like, but yet did not think them to be the\nsun:\u2014so here it is right to hold, that both of them partake of the form\nof _the good_,\u2014but yet not right to suppose that either of them is _the\ngood_, inasmuch as _the good itself_ is worthy of still greater honour.\nYou speak, said he, of some inestimable idea of \u201cthe beautiful,\u201d which\nexhibits science and truth, and yet is itself their superior in\nbeauty;\u2014for you have nowhere said, that it was pleasure. Hope better\nthings, said I; but thus rather consider its image still further. How?\nYou will say, I think, that the sun imparts to things which are seen,\nnot only their visibility, but likewise their generation, growth, and\nnourishment, though not itself generation?[210] Of course. We may say,\ntherefore, as to things cognizable by the intellect, that they become\ncognizable not only from _the good_, by which they are known, but\nlikewise that their being and essence are thence derived, while _the\ngood_ itself is not essence, but beyond essence, and superior to both in\ndignity and power.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 209:\n\n  The words \u03c6\u1ff6\u03c2 and \u03c6\u03ad\u03b3\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 are here opposed,\u2014the first referring to the\n  original and primary light of the sun, the latter to the inferior and\n  borrowed light of the moon and stars.\n\nFootnote 210:\n\n  The generation of things illuminated by the sun, shows that it is\n  perfectly unbegotten; for, according to the Platonic philosophy, the\n  sun alone of all the bodies in the universe is without generation,\n  neither receiving any accession nor diminution; whereas all that it\n  illuminates receives light, through the motion of the sun about its\n  proper centre, which also at different times sends different rays to\n  the heavenly bodies belonging to its system. So far therefore as the\n  sun illuminates, it is unbegotten; and, on this principle only, and\n  not as respects its corporeal shape, is it assimilated to _the good_.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XX.\u2014Here Glaucon, heartily laughing, said, By Apollo, here is a\nmarvellous transcendency! You yourself, replied I, are the cause of it,\nby compelling me to relate what I think about it. And by no means stop,\nsaid he, unless there be some cause; from again discussing the analogy\nabout the the sun, if you have omitted anything. Aye, I have omitted\nmany things, replied I. Ah, but, replied he, pray do not omit the\nsmallest particular. I think, said I, that much will be omitted: yet, as\nfar as I can at present, I will not willingly omit anything. Do not,\nsaid he. Understand then, said I, that we allege these to be two;\nruling\u2014the one over the intelligible genus and place, and the other over\nthe visible world,\u2014not to say the heavens, lest I should seem to you to\nemploy a sophistical expression: you understand then these two\ndescriptions of being,\u2014the visible and intelligible? I do. Supposing now\nyou to take a line cut into two equal sections, then again cut each part\naccording to the same ratio, both that of the visible and that of the\nintelligible species, you will then have them placed in contrast with\neach other, either in clearness or obscurity,\u2014the second section in the\nvisible species being images. Now images I call, in the first place,\nshadows,\u2014in the next, appearances in water, and such as subsist in\nopaque, polished and bright bodies, and all such-like representations,\nif you understand me. Yes, I understand. Consider now the other section\nof the visible which this resembles,\u2014the animals around us, and all\nkinds of plants, and everything of an artificial nature. I do consider\nit, said he. Do you wish to assert, then, that this section is divided\nby truth and its opposite;\u2014and just as the objects of opinion are\nopposed to the objects of true knowledge, so also that which is compared\n[is opposed] to that with which it is compared? Aye, indeed: I am quite\nwilling. Consider once more about this section of the intelligible, how\nit is to be effected. How? That with respect to one part thereof, the\nsoul uses the former sections as images, and is compelled to investigate\nby means of hypothesis, not going back to first principles, but\nadvancing onward to conclusions; and the other part, again, is that\nwhere the soul proceeds from hypothesis to an unhypothetical principle,\nand makes its way even without those images by means of the ideas\nthemselves. What you now say, rejoined he, I do not fully understand.\nOnce more, said I,\u2014for you will more easily understand me, from what has\nbeen previously stated,\u2014you are not unaware, methinks, that persons\nversed in geometry, and computations, and such-like, after laying down\nhypotheses of the odd and even, and figures, and three kinds of angles,\nand other similar matters, according to each method, proceed on them as\nknown, after establishing them as mere hypotheses, and give no further\nreason about them, either to themselves or others, as being things\nobvious to all;\u2014but, beginning with these, then directly discuss the\nrest, and end by meeting at the point where the inquiry set out? I know\nthis, said he, perfectly well. And [do you not likewise know] that they\nuse the visible species, and reason about them, not employing their\nintellect about these species, but about those of which they are the\nresemblances, arguing about the square itself, and the diameter itself,\nand not about what they describe;\u2014and, so also, with reference to other\nparticulars, those very things which they form and describe, among which\nare shadows and images in water, these they use as images, trying to\nbehold those very things, which a man can only perceive by his\nintellect? You say true, he replied.\n\nCHAP. XXI.\u2014This then was what I meant by the idea of the intelligible;\nbut [I said also,] that the soul was obliged to use hypotheses in its\ninvestigation, not going back to the principle, as though unable to\nascend higher than hypotheses, and employed comparisons formed from\nthings below, to lead to those above, as to clearly-seen objects of\nthought, distinct from the things themselves. I understand, said he,\nthat you are speaking of what concerns geometry and its sister arts. By\nthat other section of the intelligible, then, you must understand me to\nmean what reason itself attains by its dialectic faculty, forming\nhypotheses, not as principles, but really hypotheses, just like steps\nand starting-points, in order that by proceeding up to the\nunhypothetical,\u2014[that is,] the principle of the universe, coming in\ncontact therewith, and so again coming into union with what is united to\nit in principle, it may thus reach the end without making use of\nanything sensible, but only of ideas themselves, proceeding through some\nto others, and so ending in ideas. I understand, said he, but not\nfully:\u2014(for I think you are talking of some difficult work:) but I\nunderstand it is your wish to prove that knowledge obtained by dialectic\nscience respecting real and intelligible being is clearer than that\nacquired by means of what are called arts, which take hypotheses for\ntheir first principles, and which those who contemplate must view with\nthe understanding and not the perceptive faculties; whereas, through\ntheir inability to go back to first principles, and as they reason only\nfrom hypotheses, you think they do not exercise intellect [\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd] in\nthese matters, much as they might become intelligible with some\nprinciple for a foundation:\u2014and as for understanding [or\nreasoning,]\u2014that which we acquire through geometry and its kindred arts,\nand not pure reason, this is something lying between opinion and pure\nintellect. You have fully understood me, said I:\u2014and understand me now,\nthat analogous to these four branches of knowledge are four affections\n[or faculties] of the soul,\u2014pure reasoning answering to the\nhighest,\u2014understanding [or reasoning] to the second, faith to the\nthird,\u2014conjecture to the last:[211]\u2014and so arrange them, as to assign to\nthem respectively more or less of clearness, as they are more or less\nallied to truth. I understand, replied he, and quite agree; and so let\nus adopt your proposed arrangement.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 211:\n\n  Plato conceived that there was an ideal and a visible world,\u2014the world\n  of reason and the world of sense, and two essences in each;\u2014in the\n  _former_, pure or abstract ideas and mixed ideas,\u2014in the visible world\n  (which comprises exclusively the objects of sense), material\n  substances; and secondly, the images, shadows, or representations of\n  bodies. Analogous to these also are four faculties of the human mind,\n  two only of which have any relation to the ideal world or form any\n  part of true science;\u20141. \u03bd\u03cc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, the knowledge of pure ideas\n  (reflection, the pure reason of Kant);\u20142. \u03b4\u03b9\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1 (_understanding_),\n  the knowledge of mixed ideas;\u20143. \u03c0\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2, _faith_, the knowledge of\n  bodies and their properties;\u20144. \u03b5\u1f30\u03ba\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03b1, _conjecture_, the knowledge\n  of the images or shadows of bodies. The two last belong to unstable,\n  varying opinion (\u03b4\u03cc\u03be\u03b1). This explanation is here given, as the words\n  require a more accurate definition than can be furnished by the text.\n  See article _Plato_, in the P. Cycl.\n\n-----\n\n\n                               BOOK VII.\n\n                               ARGUMENT.\n\nIn the _seventh book_, which opens with a beautiful description of the\n    nature of man confined in a dark cave, Plato proceeds to show the\n    means and plan for learning true philosophy, and how we may attain\n    to the serious and sober practice of social life and politics. That\n    moral discipline, argues he, which I require in my guardian, is not\n    mere vacant contemplation, but a profound and practical knowledge of\n    all matters nearly or more remotely concerning the duties of life\n    and the social relations of mankind,\u2014that is, the state in its most\n    broad and general sense: in fact, that he should be a philosophic\n    ruler acquainted with divine and human things,\u2014in other words, with\n    true and primary philosophy. This he terms _dialectic_, the\n    subordinates of which are _physics_, the science which considers the\n    origin and formation of matter, and _mathematics_, which is halfway\n    between the two others, engaged indeed in contemplating abstract and\n    purely argumentative, but not on that higher eternal truth;\n    emphatically, \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f44\u03bd, that primarily exists in the mind of God: of\n    these matters he treats, particularly the first, at very\n    considerable length: which, as Ritter says, is a regulating\n    superintendent, which, from the knowledge of the eternally true, may\n    indicate to each special science its proper object.\n\nCHAP. I.\u2014After this then, said I, compare our nature as respects\neducation, or the want thereof, to a condition such as follows:\u2014Behold\nmen, as it were, in an underground cave-like dwelling, having its\nentrance open towards the light and extending through the whole\ncave,\u2014and within it persons, who from childhood upwards have had chains\non their legs and their necks, so as, while abiding there, to have the\npower of looking forward only, but not to turn round their heads by\nreason of their chains, their light coming from a fire that burns above\nand afar off, and behind them; and between the fire and those in chains\nis a road above, along which one may see a little wall built along, just\nas the stages of conjurers are built before the people in whose presence\nthey show their tricks. I see, said he. Behold then by the side of this\nlittle wall men carrying all sorts of machines rising above the wall,\nand statues of men and other animals wrought in stone, wood, and other\nmaterials, some of the bearers probably speaking, others proceeding in\nsilence.[212] You are proposing, said he, a most absurd comparison and\nabsurd captives also. Such as resemble ourselves, said I;\u2014for think you\nthat such as these would have seen anything else of themselves or one\nanother except the shadows that fall from the fire on the opposite side\nof the cave? How can they, said he, if indeed they be through life\ncompelled to keep their heads unmoved? But what respecting the things\ncarried by them:\u2014is not this the same? Of course. If then they had been\nable to talk with each other, do you not suppose they would think it\nright to give names to what they saw before them? Of course they would.\nBut if the prison had an echo on its opposite side, when any person\npresent were to speak, think you they would imagine anything else\naddressed to them, except the shadow before them? No, by Zeus, not I,\nsaid he. At all events then, said I, such persons would deem truth to be\nnothing else but the shadows of exhibitions. Of course they would. Let\nus inquire then, said I, as to their liberation from captivity, and\ntheir cure from insanity, such as it may be, and whether such will\nnaturally fall to their lot;\u2014were a person let loose and obliged\nimmediately to rise up, and turn round his neck and walk, and look\nupwards to the light, and doing all this still feel pained, and be\ndisabled by the dazzling from seeing those things of which he formerly\nsaw the shadows;\u2014what would he say, think you, if any one were to tell\nhim that he formerly saw mere empty visions, but now saw more correctly,\nas being nearer to the real thing, and turned towards what was more\nreal, and then, specially pointing out to him every individual passing\nthing, should question him, and oblige him, to answer respecting its\nnature:\u2014think you not he would be embarrassed, and consider that what he\nbefore saw was truer than what was just exhibited? Quite so, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 212:\n\n  Allusion is here made to puppets which are made to perform on a\n  moveable stage by means of strings pulled from behind. See Ruhnken\u2019s\n  Lexicon to the Tim\u00e6us, on the word \u03b8\u03b1\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, which he explains by the\n  compound word \u03bd\u03b5\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c0\u03ac\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. II.\u2014Therefore, even if a person should compel him to look to the\nlight itself, would he not have pain in his eyes and shun it, and then,\nturning to what he really could behold, reckon these as really more\nclear than what had been previously pointed out? Just so, replied he.\nBut if, said I, a person should forcibly drag him thence through a\nrugged and steep ascent without stopping, till he dragged him to the\nlight of the sun, would he not while thus drawn be in pain and\nindignation, and when he came to the light, having his eyes dazzled with\nthe splendour, be unable to behold even any one thing of what he had\njust alleged as true? No, he could not, at the moment at least, said he.\nHe would require, at least then, to get some degree of practice, if he\nwould see things above him:\u2014and first, indeed, he would most easily\nperceive the shadows, and then the images of men and other animals in\nthe water, and after that the things themselves;\u2014and after this he would\nmore easily behold the things in heaven, and heaven itself, by night,\nlooking to the light of the stars and the moon, than after daylight to\nthe sun and the light of the sun. How else? Last of all, then, methinks,\nhe might be able to perceive and contemplate the nature of the sun, not\nas respects its images in water or any other place, but itself by itself\nin its own proper station? Necessarily so, said he. And after this, he\nmight reason with himself concerning the sun, that it is the body which\ngives us the seasons and years and administers everything in its stated\nplace, being the cause also in a certain manner of all natural events.\nIt is evident, said he, after what has been formerly stated, that one\nmust arrive at this conclusion. What then,\u2014when a man remembers his\nfirst habitation and the wisdom therein residing, and his fellow\ncaptives also,\u2014think you not, that he would congratulate himself on the\nchange and pity the rest? Quite so. And whatever honours and praises and\nrewards were assigned by mutual consent to him that had the most acute\nperception of the present, and the best recollection both of long past\nand recent events, and from such observations was best able to\nconjecture the future,\u2014think you that he would desire such honours, or\nenvy those honoured by these, or possessing influence, or would not he\nrather experience what Homer says, and ardently desire\n\n                   As labourer, for some ignoble man\n                   To work for hire,[213]\u2014\n\nand rather endure anything than entertain such opinions and live in such\na manner? I think, said he, that he would choose to suffer anything\nrather than live in that way. And consider this, said I, whether, in the\ncase of such an one going down and again sitting in the same place, his\neyes would not be blinded in consequence of coming so suddenly from the\nsun? Quite so, replied he. As for those shadows again, if he were\ncompelled to split straws and dispute about them with those persons who\nhad been in constant captivity, while yet he was in darkness before the\nestablishment of his sight,\u2014(and this time of getting habituated would\nnot be short,)\u2014would he not excite ridicule; and would it not be said of\nhim, that after having once ascended he had come back with his eyesight\ndestroyed, and should not even try to ascend again; and as for any one\nthat attempted to liberate him and lead him up, they ought to put him to\ndeath, if they could get him into their hands? Especially so, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 213:\n\n  Comp. Hom. Odyss. x. 428.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. III.\u2014As respects this image then, we must apply the whole of it to\nour preceding discourse; comparing the region that is seen by the eyes\nto the prison-habitation, and the light of the fire therein to the power\nof the sun;\u2014and if you were to consider the ascent above, and the\ncontemplation of things above as the soul\u2019s ascent into the region of\nintellect, you would not disappoint my expectations, since this it is\nwhich you desire to hear;\u2014but God knows whether it be true. As respects\nappearances then, it thus seems, that in the subjects of human knowledge\nthe idea of the good is the last object of vision, and hard to be seen;\nand when beheld it must be inferred from reason to be the cause of what\nis right and beautiful in all things, generating in what is visible,\nboth light and its parent also, [viz. the sun,] while in that which is\nintelligible, it is itself the sovereign producing truth and\nintelligence; and it must be seen too by him that would act with\njudgment, either privately or in public. I too, said he, am quite of\nyour opinion, as far indeed as I can be. Come then, said I, agree on\nthis point also;\u2014and be not surprised that those who come here are\nunwilling to act in human affairs, but have their souls ever urged to\ndwell on things above; for it is surely reasonable it should be so,\nsince these things take place according to the above-mentioned image.\nAye, quite reasonable, replied he. But what, said I;\u2014think you it at all\nsurprising, that a man coming from divine contemplations to mere human\nwoes, should appear awkward and extremely ridiculous, while he is yet\ndazzled,[214]\u2014and when, ere being used to the present darkness, he is\nobliged to contend in courts of law or elsewhere about the shadows of\njustice, or the statues of which they are the shadows, and then to\ndispute how these matters are apprehended by those who have never\ncontemplated justice itself? No wonder this, replied he. Nay, said I, if\na man has intelligence, he will be conscious, that there are two\ndisturbances of vision arising from two causes,\u2014viz., when we turn from\nlight into darkness and from darkness into light;\u2014and when a man thinks\nthat the same takes place with reference to the soul likewise, when it\nbeholds him disturbed and unable to realize its perceptions, he will not\nlaugh immoderately, but rather consider whether the soul has come out of\na more brilliant existence and is now darkened by ignorance, or else\nemerging out of gross ignorance into a more luminous existence, be\noverpowered by dazzling splendour;\u2014and thus he will congratulate the\nformer on its life and destiny, while he pities the life and destiny of\nthe other; and even if he wished to laugh at it, his laughter will be\nless ridiculous than if it were directed to the soul which comes from\nlight into darkness. Your remark is perfectly reasonable, he replied.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 214:\n\n  This refers to the reproach made to philosophers on the unpractical\n  nature of their pursuits, and elsewhere alluded to in the preceding\n  book, ch. 3, and likewise in the Gorgias, p. 484 c.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. IV.\u2014It is fit then, said I, if these things be true, that we form\nsuch an opinion as this respecting them,\u2014that education is not of that\ncharacter which some persons announce it to be, when they somehow assert\nthat, there is no science in the soul, but that they can implant it just\nas if they implanted sight in the eyes of the blind. Aye, they say so,\nhe replied.[215] Our present argument however, said I, shows this power\nto reside in the soul of every person, and to be the organ by which\nevery one learns.\u2014Just as the eye cannot turn otherwise than with the\nwhole body from darkness to the light, so also one must turn with the\nwhole soul from sensible objects until it has become able to endure the\ncontemplation of what is real, and what is most apparent of the real,\nand this we term _the good_: do we not? Yes. It will be the art then of\nthis very person, said I, in turning about, to contrive this; namely,\nhow he may turn with the greatest ease and advantage, not for the sake\nof implanting sight in him, but viewing him as already possessing it,\nthough not rightly turned, and not looking in the right direction? It\nseems so, said he. The other virtues of the soul, as they are called,\nseem to me somewhat like those of the body; for in fact those not before\ncontained therein are afterwards engendered by custom and practice:\u2014but\nthe faculty of intellect possesses, it seems, a nature somewhat more\ngod-like than all the rest;\u2014never losing its power, but by exertion\nbecoming useful and profitable,\u2014by the opposite, useless and hurtful.\nHave you never yet observed of those that are termed wicked yet\nclever,\u2014how sharply the little soul looks, acutely distinguishing all to\nwhich it is turned, having indeed no contemptible power of vision, but\ncompelled to be so far the servant of wickedness, that in proportion as\nits vision is more acute, the more crime it perpetrates? Quite so, of\ncourse, observed he. As regards this part of such a disposition, if from\nchildhood upwards it should be stripped and cut off from what belongs to\nhuman production, as from leaden weights,\u2014which have a relation to\nfeastings, and pleasures, and lusts, that turn the sight of the soul to\nthings downward;\u2014if the soul can free itself and turn towards truth, the\nvery same principle in the same individuals would as acutely see those\nthings as the objects to which it is now turned. Certainly, he replied.\nWhat then, is not this probable, said I, and a necessary consequence of\nwhat has just been stated, that those who are untaught and inexperienced\nin truth can never exercise a sufficient superintendence over the state,\nnor yet those who are allowed to spend the whole of their time in\nphilosophical pursuits,\u2014the former, because they have no single object\nin life, towards which they should direct all their actions both private\nand public,\u2014and the latter, because, as far as their will is concerned,\nthey will not engage in public life, from the idea that even while yet\nliving they have been transported to the islands of the blessed? True,\nsaid he. It is our business then, said I, to compel those of the\ninhabitants, who possess the greatest talent, to devote themselves to\nthat learning which we formerly considered most important, both to\ncontemplate the good and go in search of it;\u2014and when they have gained\nit, and taken a sufficient view thereof, yet they are not to be allowed\nwhat is now allowed them. What is that? To abide there, said I, and show\nan unwillingness to descend again to those captives of whom we were\nspeaking, or share with them, both their labours and honours, whether\ntrifling or more important. In that case, said he, are we to do them\ninjustice, and make them live a worse life, when they could have lived a\nbetter?\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 215:\n\n  Euripides alludes to the same false notion in the Hippolytus, v. 917.\n\n                 \u1f66 \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u1f01\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9 \u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd,\n                 \u03c4\u03af \u03b4\u1f74 \u03c4\u03ad\u03c7\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03bc\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b4\u03ac\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5\n                 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03bc\u03b7\u03c7\u03b1\u03bd\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b5 \u03ba\u1f00\u03be\u03b5\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5,\n                 \u1f13\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f10\u03c0\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03b8\u2019 \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u2019 \u1f10\u03b8\u03b7\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b1\u03c3\u03b8\u03ad \u03c0\u03c9\n                 \u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u03b4\u03ac\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03bf\u1f37\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f14\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c2;\n\n  Pindar has a similar sentiment in Olymp. ix. 152-5.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. V.\u2014You have forgotten again, said I, that this is not the\nlawgiver\u2019s concern, how any one class in a state may be especially\nhappy, but to contrive rather that happiness shall be generated\nthroughout the state, uniting the citizens both by persuasion and\ncompulsion, making them share each other\u2019s services, such as they can\nconfer on the community at large; and when he introduces such men as\nthese into the state, he does so, not that he may dismiss them and let\nthem turn whichever way each likes, but that he may employ them as a\nbond of the state. True indeed, said he, for I had forgotten that.\nAnxiously consider then, Glaucon, that we must do no injustice to the\nphilosophers born among us, but tell them what is just, when we compel\nthem to take charge of and guard the remainder:\u2014for we will assert, that\nthose who in all other states become such [philosophers,] do not\nprobably take a share in the labours going on therein, as they spring up\nof their own accord without the consent of the government in each; and\nit is just that what is voluntary, inasmuch as it owes its nurture to\nnone, should willingly pay no one the price of its nurture;\u2014but as for\nyou, we brought into being both yourselves and the rest of the state, as\nleaders and kings in beehives, brought up better and more perfectly than\nthe others, and better able to take a share in both [public life and\nphilosophical pursuits]. Each must then in turn descend to the dwelling\nof the rest, and accustom himself to behold obscure objects; for, when\nonce used to them, you will perceive the individual images of each, what\nthey are and whence sprung, ten thousand times better from having\nalready seen the truth concerning what is beautiful, and just, and\ngood:\u2014and thus the state will be settled as a real vision, both by us\nand yourselves, and not as a dream, like most of those inhabited by\npersons fighting about shadows, and quarrelling about government, as if\nit were some great good.\u2014The truth, however, is as follows: in whatever\nstate those about to rule are least anxious to take the government, this\nmust necessarily be the best and most peacefully governed, while one\nthat has governors of an opposite character, must of course be the\nopposite. Certainly, said he. Think you then, that those under our\ncharge, when they hear these things, will disobey us, and be unwilling\nto take their individual share in the labours of the state, and spend\nthe greater part of their time with one another in a state of leisure?\nImpossible, said he;\u2014for we will prescribe what is just to just men, and\neach of them will enter on his office from this consideration above all\nothers, that he should act in a manner directly contrary from those who\nnow govern individual states. Yes, for so it is, my friend;\u2014if you find\nthe life of those appointed to official stations superior to the dignity\nof their office, then your state may possibly be well settled; as in\nthat alone will the really wealthy govern,\u2014not those rich in gold, but\nas happy men should be rich, in a life of virtue and good\nsense;\u2014whereas, should they be poor, and destitute of property of their\nown, and then come into public life, thinking that they ought to plunder\nthe public of its property, it is not possible [that such a state can be\nrightly settled]:\u2014for as the contest is about the possession of the\nruling power, such a war being domestic and intestine, is destructive to\nthemselves as well as the rest of the state. Most true, he replied. Do\nyou conceive then that any other kind of life despises political offices\nexcept that of true philosophy? No, by Zeus, said he. But still it is\nfitting, at least, that those should enter upon it who are not fond of\ngoverning, otherwise the rivals will fight about it. Of course, it\ncannot be otherwise. Whom else, then, would you compel to enter on the\nguardianship of a state, except such as are most intelligent in what\nconcerns the best establishment of a state, and possess other honours,\nand a mode of life superior to that of a mere politician? None other, he\nreplied.\n\nCHAP. VI.\u2014Do you wish, then, that we should now consider this,\u2014in what\nmanner such persons will be produced and how any one can draw them\nupward into light, just as some are said to have ascended from Hades to\nthe gods? Of course that is my wish, he replied. This then, as it seems,\nis not a mere turning of a die,[216] but a movement of the soul, which\nascends from some half-night kind of day to the true light of existence,\nwhich we will term true philosophy. Certainly. Ought we not, then, to\ninquire what branch of learning possesses this influence? Of course.\nWhat then, Glaucon, may that training of the soul be, which draws it\nfrom what is generated and unstable towards that which has a positive\nexistence? And talking of this, I am reminded:\u2014did we not say that it is\nnecessary for these persons even while young to engage in warlike\nexercises? We did say so. We should add this, then, to the training\nwhich we are now seeking. What is that? That of not being useless to\nmilitary men. Aye, we must indeed, said he, if it be possible. Moreover,\nin our former discourse, we somewhere said we would have them taught\ngymnastics and music. We did so, said he. The art of gymnastics has to\ndo, I think, with what is unstable and perishable; for it presides over\ncorporeal growth and decrease. It appears so. This then cannot be the\nbranch of study, of which we are in pursuit. It cannot. Is it music\nthen, such as we have previously described? That, said he, if you\nremember, corresponded to gymnastics, as it trains the habits of the\nguardians, giving them a sort of concord founded on harmony\u2014not\nscience,\u2014and good rhythm on the principles of rhythm, and other things\nin discourses which are akin to these both in such as are fabulous and\nsuch as more resemble truth; but as to its being a branch of science\nthat refers to a good such as you are now investigating, music had no\nsuch character. Most correctly, said I, do you remind me; for it is in\nreality no such thing: but, excellent Glaucon, what branch of science is\nit, that possesses this character?\u2014for all the arts somehow seem to be\nmechanical and illiberal. Of course;\u2014and moreover what other branch of\nscience is there, that is distinct from music, gymnastics, and the arts?\nCome, said I, if we cannot conceive any except these, let us take one of\nthose which extends over all. Of what kind is that? Such as this common\nidea which all arts, and intellects, and sciences employ, and which\nevery person must learn at the outset. What is that? said he. This\ntrifling matter, said I;\u2014how to distinguish one, and two, and three,\nwhich I call in general terms arithmetic and computation:\u2014is it not thus\nas regards these, that every art and science must necessarily have a\nshare in these? Surely, he replied. Must not then the art of war? said\nI. Necessarily, he replied. What a ridiculous general then, said I, does\nPalamedes in his tragedies constantly represent Agamemnon to\nbe.[217]\u2014And have you not observed how he says, that after inventing\nnumeration he adjusted the ranks at Ilium, and numbered the ships and\nthe rest of the forces, as if they had never been numbered before, even\nwhen Agamemnon, as it seems, did not know how many feet he had, since he\ndid not know how to count;\u2014what kind of a general would you think him to\nbe? I should think him a mighty absurd one, he replied, if this be true.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 216:\n\n  This alludes to a game of chance,\u2014\u1f21 \u1f40\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03af\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1, fully described in the\n  Onomast. of Pollux, lib. ix. ch. 7 \u00a7 110-112.\n\nFootnote 217:\n\n  This passage refers, no doubt, to some one or more lost tragedies in\n  which Palamedes is made to accuse Agamemnon of an utter ignorance of\n  arithmetic.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. VII.\u2014Shall we not say, then, said I, that the power of computing\nand reckoning is a necessary attainment for a military man? Most\ncertainly, he replied, if he intends to understand anything at all about\nmarshalling troops,\u2014or rather, if he means to be a man. Do you then\nunderstand, said I, about this branch of learning just what I do? What\nis that? It seems in its nature to be among the number of those things\nwhich lead to pure reason\u2014of which indeed we are in search; but no one\nseems rightly to employ it, as evidently leading the mind to the\nconsideration of true being. How say you? inquired he. I will at least,\ntry, said I, to explain what is my opinion.\u2014As to what I distinguish in\nmy own mind as leading or not leading whither we are saying, [viz., to\ntrue being,] do you assist me in contemplating them, and either agree or\ndissent, so that we may more distinctly see whether they be such as I\nconjecture. Pray show me, said he. I will show you then, said I, if you\nwill observe that some things relating to the perceptions do not invite\nintellect to the inquiry, as being sufficiently determined by\nperception; while there are other things which by all means bid its\ninterference, as perception alone does nothing correct. You are\nevidently speaking, said he, of objects seen at a distance, and things\nsketched in a picture. You have not quite comprehended my meaning, said\nI. What are you speaking of then? asked he. There are some things,\nreplied I, which do not appeal [to the intellect], and yet do not issue\nat once into a contrary perception; while those that do so issue I\nconsider as so appealing, when the perceptive faculty takes cognizance\nof one thing more than another, on meeting it either near or afar\noff.\u2014And you will thus more clearly know what I mean: these we say are\nthree fingers, the little finger, the next to it, and the middle finger.\nJust so, observed he. Consider me then to speak of them as seen only\nfrom a short distance, and consider this also, respecting them. What?\nEach of them appears equally to be a finger, and so far it makes no\ndifference whether one looks at the middle one or the last, whether it\nbe white or black, thick or slender, or anything of the kind; for in all\nthese the soul of man is not compelled to ask the intellect what of many\nthings a finger is,[218] for sight itself never at the same time\nindicates a finger to be a finger, and its contrary. Of course not,\nreplied he. It is probable, then, said I, that such a case as this would\nneither appeal to nor rouse the intellect. Probably. But what then;\u2014does\nthe sight sufficiently distinguish their large or small size, and does\nit make no difference to it whether one of them be placed in the middle\nor at the end?\u2014And so in like manner does the sense of touch take\ncognizance of thickness and slenderness, softness and hardness?\u2014And as\nfor the other perceptions, are they not defective in showing such\nthings, or rather does not each of them so act; and first of all, is not\nthe sense which is affected by hardness necessarily also affected by\nsoftness, and does it not, when it perceives this, announce to the soul,\nthat hard and soft are one and the same thing? Just so. he replied. It\nmust necessarily follow then, said I, that in such matters, the soul\nwill be in doubt as to what the perception indicates as hard, since it\ncalls the same thing soft also;\u2014and so also as regards the sense\nreferring to light and heavy, the soul must be in doubt what is light\nand what is heavy, if the sense intimates heavy to be light, and light\nheavy? These at least, said he, are truly absurd reports made to the\nsoul, and require investigation. Probably then, said I, in such cases as\nthese the soul would first call in reason and intelligence to\ninvestigate the question whether the things reported be one or whether\nthey be two. Of course. If then they appeared to be two, each of them\nwill appear to be one and distinct from the other? Yes. If then each of\nthem be one and both of them two, he will understand them to be two\ndistinct; for, were they not distinct, he would not perceive two, but\nonly one. Right. The sight, moreover, we say, could contemplate what is\ngreat and small, though not as distinct from each other, but as somewhat\nconfused:\u2014could it not? Yes. But for the sake of clearness in this\nmatter, the intellect is once more obliged to consider great and small,\nnot as confused, but as distinct in an opposite way from the\nother,\u2014viz., the sense of sight. True. And is it not hence somehow, that\nit first sets on questioning us, as to what is the great and what is the\nsmall? Assuredly. And thus then we call the one intelligible, and the\nother visible. Very right, he replied.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 218:\n\n  Gr. \u1f10\u03bd \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b9 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03ba\u03ac\u03b6\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f21 \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u1f74 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03bd\u03cc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd\n  \u1f10\u03c0\u03ad\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03af \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u2019 \u1f14\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b4\u03ac\u03ba\u03c4\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2. The words \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1ff6\u03bd are usually\n  taken with \u03c4\u03af \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5, as above translated. Schleiermacher, however,\n  takes it with \u1f21 \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u1f74, _the souls of people generally_. Ast thinks the\n  words an interpolation.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. VIII.\u2014This then is what I just now attempted to express, that some\nthings appeal to the intellect and others not; defining those that make\nsuch an appeal, as what affect the senses at the same time as their\nopposites, while such as do not, do not excite the intellect. I quite\nunderstand now, said he; and I am of the same opinion. What then;\u2014to\nwhich of them, think you, do number and unity belong? I do not\nunderstand, replied he. But let us reason by analogy, said I, from what\nwe have already said:\u2014for if unity can be sufficiently seen of itself,\nor comprehended by any other sense, it still would not lead to true\nbeing, just as we remarked about the finger:\u2014but if there be always seen\nat the same time an exact opposite thereto, so that it shall no more\nappear unity than it does the contrary, some one would then be wanted to\njudge respecting it; and in that very matter the soul would necessarily\nbe in difficulty, exciting reflection within itself, and would inquire\ninto the nature of this same unity, and thus that branch of science\nwhich concerns unity would be among those which lead and turn the soul\nto the contemplation of real being. Ah, said he;\u2014this is what the very\nsight of it does in no small degree; for we at once behold the same\nthing, both as one and as an infinite multitude. If then, said I, unity\nbe thus affected, will not number generally be so likewise? Of course.\nYet, again, all computation and arithmetic concern number? Quite so. But\nthese at least seem to lead towards truth? Especially so, of course.\nThey belong then, it seems, to the branches of learning which we are now\ninvestigating;\u2014for a military man must necessarily learn them with a\nview to the marshalling of his troops, and so must a philosopher with\nthe view of understanding real being, after having emerged from the\nunstable condition of becoming, or else he can never become an apt\nreasoner. That is the fact, he replied. But that guardian of ours\nhappens to be both a military man and a philosopher? Unquestionably so.\nIt would be proper then, Glaucon, to lay down laws for this branch of\nscience and persuade those about to engage in the most important\nstate-matters to apply themselves to computation, and study it, not in\nthe common vulgar fashion, but with the view of arriving at the\ncontemplation of the nature of numbers by the intellect itself,\u2014not for\nthe sake of buying and selling as anxious merchants and retailers, but\nfor war also, and that the soul may acquire a facility of turning itself\nfrom what is in course of generation to truth and real being. A capital\nremark, he replied. And, moreover, I now observe, said I, respecting\nthat branch of science which concerns computation, how refined it is,\nand in many ways useful to us as respects our wishes, if we will apply\nthereto for the sake of getting knowledge, and not with a view of\ntraffic. In what way? inquired he. Just what we now said\u2014that it\npowerfully leads the soul upwards, and compels it to reason on abstract\nnumbers, without in any way allowing a person in his reasoning to\nadvance numbers which are visible and tangible bodies;[219]\u2014for perhaps\nyou know of some persons skilled in these matters, who, if one were in\nargument to attempt dividing unity itself, would at once both ridicule\nhim and not allow it; though, were _you_ to divide it into parts, they\nwould multiply them, lest unity should somehow seem not to be unity, but\nnumerous parts. A very true remark, he replied. What think you then,\nGlaucon, if a person should ask them\u2014You wonderfully clever men, about\nwhat kind of numbers are you reasoning;\u2014in which unity, such as you deem\nit, is equal, each whole to the whole, without any difference whatever,\nand having no parts in itself?\u2014what think you they would reply? This, as\nfar as I think;\u2014that they speak of such numbers only\u2014as can be\ncomprehended by the intellect alone, but in no other way. You see then,\nmy friend, I observed, that our real need of this branch of science, is\nprobably because it seems to compel the soul to use pure intelligence in\nthe search after pure truth. Aye, remarked he, it does this to a\nremarkable extent. Have you yet considered this,\u2014that persons naturally\nskilled in computation seem clever in all branches of science,\u2014whereas\nthose naturally slow, if instructed and exercised in this, will yet all\nof them, if they derive no other advantage, make such progress, as to\nbecome cleverer than they were before? Exactly so, he replied. And,\nmoreover, I think you will not easily find that many things give the\nlearner and student more trouble than this. Of course not. On all these\naccounts, then, we must not omit this branch of science, but those with\nthe best of talents should be instructed therein? I agree with you, he\nreplied.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 219:\n\n  _Abstract_, ideal numbers, Plato terms \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1f76 \u03bf\u1f31 \u1f00\u03c1\u03b9\u03b8\u03bc\u03bf\u03af; and these\n  only are the subject of _scientific_ calculation. The _concrete_\n  numbers (\u1f00\u03c1\u03b9\u03b8\u03bc\u03bf\u1f76 \u03c3\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u1f14\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2) are the subjects only of every-day\n  practical numeration and computation. The monad is the idea of unity,\n  abstract, indivisible unity (\u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78 \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f15\u03bd), the duad of abstract\n  duality, &c.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. IX.\u2014Let this one thing then, said I, [that has just been\ndiscussed,] be settled between us; and now let us consider, in the\nsecond place, with respect to what follows from it,\u2014whether and how\nfar it concerns ourselves. What is it, said he;\u2014is it geometry you\nmean? That very thing, said I. So far, observed he, as it bears a\nrelation to the concerns of war, it evidently does concern us;\u2014for in\npitching encampments, occupying positions, contracting and extending a\nline of troops, and as respects all the varied forms in which they\ndraw up armies, either in battle itself or during a march, it would\nmake a vast difference, whether a general were a geometrician or not.\nOf course, rejoined I, for such purposes as these a very slender\nknowledge of geometry, and a small portion of arithmetic would\nsuffice;\u2014but as for any considerable amount thereof, and great\nprogress in it, we must inquire how far they tend to this,\u2014namely, to\nmake us apprehend more easily the idea of the good:\u2014and we say that\nall things contribute thereto, which compel the soul to turn itself to\nthat region in which is the happiest portion of true being, which it\nmust by all means perceive. Your remark is correct, said he. If then\nit compels the soul to contemplate true being, it is suitable,\u2014but if\nonly what is sensible and evanescent, it is not suitable. Aye, truly,\nwe say so. This point then, at least, said I, those who have but\nlittle acquaintance with geometry, will not argue with us,\u2014that this\nscience has an entirely opposite nature to the words employed in it by\nthose who practise it. How? said he. They speak somehow most absurdly,\nand necessarily so, since all the terms they use seem to be with a\nview to operation and practice,[220]\u2014such as squaring, producing,\nadding, and such-like sounds; whereas on the other hand, the whole\nscience should be studied for the sake of real knowledge. Assuredly,\nsaid he. Is this, then, further to be agreed on? What? That [it be\nstudied] with a view to the knowledge of eternal being, and not of\nthat which is subject to generation and destruction? We may well grant\nthat, said he; for it is the business of geometry to concern itself\nwith eternal being. It would have a tendency, therefore, gentle sir,\nto draw the soul to truth, and to cause a philosophic intelligence to\ndirect upwards [the thoughts] which we now improperly cast downwards.\nAs much as possible, he replied. As far as possible, then, said I, we\nmust give special orders, that the inhabitants of that fine state[221]\nof yours should by no means omit the study of geometry, since even its\nby-works are not inconsiderable. What are they? inquired he. Those\nwhich you have just mentioned that concern war;\u2014and indeed with\nreference to all branches of science, for the better understanding\nthereof, we are some how sure that it makes an entire difference every\nway, whether a man be acquainted with geometry or not. Every way,\nindeed, by Zeus, observed he. Let us fix on this then, as the second\nbranch of learning for youth. Let us so fix it, he replied.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 220:\n\n  Gr. \u1f61\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u03ac\u03c4\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03ad\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03c1\u03b1\u03be\u03ad\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f15\u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03b1.\n\nFootnote 221:\n\n  The use of the ironical compound \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03af\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u03c2 gives a force and beauty\n  to the passage which is wholly lost in translation. It is the reading,\n  too, of all the best MSS., and altogether preferable to the old\n  reading.\u2014\u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u1fc3 \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c5.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. X.\u2014But what; shall we fix upon astronomy, as the third, or think\nyou otherwise? I quite think we should, said he; for to have unusually\nacute perceptions respecting the times of months and years, is suitable\nnot only for agriculture and navigation, but not less so for the art of\nwar. You are jesting, said I, when you seem to be afraid that the\nmultitude will charge you with enjoining useless objects of study:\u2014yet\nit is not altogether a trifle, but rather difficult to persuade that by\nthese branches of study some organ of the soul in each individual, is\npurified and rekindled like fire, after having been destroyed and\nblinded by other kinds of study,\u2014an organ, indeed, better worth saving\nthan ten thousand eyes, since by that alone can truth be seen. Among\nsuch, then, as join me in this opinion, you will have the reputation of\nreasoning admirably well; though such as never had any perception of\nthis will think perhaps that you say nothing to the purpose, as they see\nno advantage therefrom accruing that is worthy of notice. Consider,\nthen, from this point, against which of the parties you are arguing,\u2014or\nwhether against neither, but chiefly for your own sake you are carrying\non the discussion; moreover, do not envy any other, if therefrom any one\ncould derive any possible advantage. Thus, said he, do I choose, on my\nown account chiefly, to argue and ask questions, and make replies. Let\nus go a little back then, in our argument, for just now, indeed, we did\nnot rightly take what is next in order after geometry. How then did we\nact? asked he. After a plain surface, said I, we took a solid in a state\nof revolution, without first considering it by itself, in the abstract;\nbut the correct plan is to take the third in order, after the second\ndimension:\u2014and this, probably, refers to the dimension of cubes, and\nwhat has to do with depth. Aye, it is so, said he: but these matters,\nSocrates, do not seem yet to have been investigated. Aye, there are two\ncauses for this: because no state holds them in honour, they are only\nslightly investigated, as being difficult; and those that do so\ninvestigate them require a guide, without whom they cannot discover\nthem,\u2014one whom, first of all, it would be hard to get, and, when he is\ngot, as things are at present, the investigators of these matters having\nlofty notions of themselves, would not obey him; whereas, if the whole\nstate were to hold such pursuits in honour, and superintend them, these\npersons would be obedient, and the investigations being conducted with\nassiduity and vigour, would exhibit their true character; whereas now,\ndespised and mutilated by the multitude, as well as by those who study\nthem without being able to account for their usefulness, they still, in\nspite of all things, increase through their native grace; and it is no\nwonder that they should appear so to do. Aye, indeed, said he, this\ngracefulness is especially remarkable; but tell me more plainly what you\nwere just now saying,\u2014for you somehow defined geometry to be a study\nthat concerns plane surfaces. I did, said I. Then next in order you\nmentioned astronomy; but afterwards you drew back. Yes, replied I,\nbecause when I am in a hurry to get quickly over the discussion, I get\non the more slowly; for as regards the mode of measuring depth, which is\nnext in order, that I passed over, as a hopeless investigation, and\nproceeded, after geometry, to speak about astronomy, which is the motion\nof solids. You say rightly, observed he. Let us fix on astronomy then,\nsaid he, as a fourth branch of science; as if that which we now omit,\n[viz. solid geometry,] may have an existence, whenever the state enters\non that pursuit. Probably, said he: and as to what you just now urged on\nme, Socrates, about astronomy, as having needlessly praised it, I now\npraise it in accordance with your notions: for I think it is clear to\nevery one, that it is this which compels the soul to look upwards, and\nfrom what is here conducts it thither. Perhaps, rejoined I, it may be\nclear to all except myself;\u2014to me it does not seem so. Ah! how is that?\nsaid he. As those who introduce it into philosophy, nowadays pursue it,\nit makes the soul look altogether downwards. How say you? inquired he. I\nam of opinion, replied I, that you are not ungenerous in forming your\nmental estimate of the real nature of that branch of science which\nconcerns things above; for you seem to be of opinion, that if a person\nwere to look up and discover some of the heavenly bodies in an enclosed\nspace, he would contemplate them with his intellect and not his eyes.\nPerhaps, then, you judge rightly, and I am wrong; though I, on the other\nhand, cannot hold the opinion that any other branch of science can make\nthe soul look upwards, except that which concerns real being and the\ninvisible,\u2014whether one were to gape upwards, or try by peering downwards\nto get acquainted with those matters:\u2014and if any one were to gape\nupwards and so try to get acquainted with any perceptible object, I\nthink that he never would get acquainted with it; as his soul has no\nscientific knowledge of such things,\u2014nor would his soul look upwards,\nbut downwards,\u2014even though he were to try to learn, swimming on his back\nat sea or lying so on the ground.\n\nCHAP. XI.\u2014I am punished, rejoined he;\u2014for you have rightly reproved\nme:\u2014but in what manner did you say we ought to learn astronomy different\nfrom that in which they now teach it, if people are to be taught\nadvantageously for the purposes of which we now speak? Thus, said\nI:\u2014these various bright bodies in the heaven,\u2014since indeed they are so\nvariously placed in visible space,\u2014ought to be deemed very beautiful and\nmost perfect in their kind, though much inferior to the true\nmagnificence of movement, with which real velocity and real retardation\nmutually bear along those bodies with all that belongs to them, in their\ntrue number and in all their true shapes;[222]\u2014which things, indeed, can\nbe apprehended only by reason and intelligence, not by sight:\u2014do you\nthink they can? By no means, said he. Must we not then, said I, use the\nvarious heavenly phenomena, as an exhibition for the purpose of\ninstructing us in those [real] concerns,\u2014just as one might meet with\nsketches, capitally well drawn and elaborated by D\u00e6dalus, or some other\nartist or painter?\u2014For one skilled in geometry, on seeing such drawings,\nwould, perhaps, think them to be exceedingly well wrought, and\nnevertheless deem it absurd to give them a serious consideration,\u2014as if\nhe were thence to get his conception of truth about equals, or doubles,\nor any other proportion, Of course, it would be absurd, he replied. And\nthink you not then, that the true astronomer will feel just the same,\nwhen he looks up to the orbits of the stars,\u2014reckoning, indeed, that the\nheavens and all in them are established by the heavenly architect in the\nmost beautiful manner possible for the formation of such works; and\nwould not one deem it absurd of a man to conceive that this proportion\nof night with day, and of both these to a month, and of a month to a\nyear, and of other stars to both of these, and towards each other has\nexisted always in the same manner, and without experiencing any change,\nbecause they have a body, and are visible, and so to take all possible\nmeans to apprehend the truth of these things? So I think, he replied,\nwhilst I listen to you. Let us then, said I, make use of problems, [or\nhypotheses,] in astronomy, as in geometry, and dismiss the heavenly\nbodies,\u2014if we intend really to get acquainted with astronomy, and render\nuseful instead of useless that portion of the soul which is naturally\nintelligent. You really impose, said he, a far harder task on\nastronomers than is enjoined them at present. I think, however, replied\nI, that we must enjoin other duties likewise, according to the same\nfashion, if we would be of any service as lawgivers.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 222:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f00\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u03b9\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u1f7a \u1f10\u03bd\u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, \u1f03\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f42\u03bd \u03c4\u03ac\u03c7\u03bf\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f21 \u03bf\u1f56\u03c3\u03b1 \u03b2\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03c5\u03c4\u1f74\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd\n  \u03c4\u1ff7 \u1f00\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u03b9\u03bd\u1ff7 \u1f00\u03c1\u03b9\u03b8\u03bc\u1ff7 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u03ad\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c7\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u03ac\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bb\u03b1\n  \u03c6\u03ad\u03c1\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f10\u03bd\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c6\u03ad\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9. The passage is evidently corrupt,\u2014and, as\n  it now stands, is almost incapable of translation. That given above\n  closely resembles that given by Victor Cousin, a far better one than\n  Schleiermacher\u2019s.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XII.\u2014But have you anything to suggest about the fitting branches\nof study? I have not, he replied,\u2014at present at least. Motion, moreover,\nsaid I, affords us, I think, not one indeed, but many species\nthereof;\u2014all of which any wise man can probably tell; but those which\noccur to me are two. What are they? In addition to this, said I, there\nis its counterpart. Which? As the eyes, said I, seem formed for studying\nastronomy, so do the ears seem formed for harmonious motions; and these\nseem to be twin sciences to one another, as also the Pythagoreans[223]\nsay; and we too, Glaucon, agree with them:\u2014how shall we do? Just so,\nreplied he. Shall we not, then, said I, since it is a matter of high\nimportance, inquire of them how they speak concerning them, and whether\nthey have anything else to say besides this; but we, notwithstanding all\nthis, shall defend our own conclusion? What is that? That those whom we\neducate should never attempt to learn these things imperfectly, nor\nwithout always aiming at the object, to which all ought to be\ndirected,\u2014as we just stated with reference to astronomy:\u2014and do not you\nknow that they do some such thing with regard to harmony?\u2014for, while\nthey measure one with another the symphonies and sounds which are heard,\nthey go through a fruitless toil, like the astronomers. Aye, by the\ngods, said he,\u2014and absurdly too, when they make very frequent trials of\nthe notes, lending their ears to catch the sound as from a neighbour\u2019s\nvoice,\u2014some indeed saying that they hear some middle note, with the\nsmallest appreciable interval, and others again doubtingly saying that\nthe notes are just what were sounded before,\u2014both parties placing the\nears above the intellect. But you are now speaking, said I, of those\nthrifty, money-making musicians, who are ever harassing and tormenting\ntheir strings, turning them on the pegs:\u2014but, that the comparison may\nnot be too tedious, I refrain from speaking of their complaints about\nthe refusal and stubbornness of the strings, and at once give up the\nsimile, saying that we do not mean to speak of these, but of those true\nmusicians whom we before mentioned:\u2014for these do here just what the\nothers did in astronomy; for they search for numbers, in the symphonies\nwhich they hear, but do not go on to the inquiry proposed,\u2014what numbers\nare symphonious, what not, and the reason why they are either the one or\nthe other. You speak, said he, of a noble undertaking. It is\nserviceable, of course, said I, in the search for the beautiful and\ngood,\u2014but, if pursued in another manner, it is quite useless. Aye,\nprobably so, said he. Still, methinks, said I, the plan of inquiry into\nall these matters that we have described, if it touches on their mutual\ncommunion and alliance, and proves how they are mutually related, will\ncontribute something to what we require, and our labour will not be\nfruitless; but otherwise it will. I likewise, said he, guess the very\nsame thing:\u2014but you are speaking, Socrates, of a most laborious\nundertaking. Mean you the introduction, or what else? said I:\u2014what,\u2014know\nwe not, that all these things are introductory to the strain\nitself;[224] which we ought to learn?\u2014for even persons clever in these\nthings you perhaps do not think skilled in dialectics. No, by Zeus, said\nhe, only some very few of such as I have met. But supposing some of them\nnot able, said I, to offer and admit reasoning, will they ever be able\nto get acquainted with what we say they ought to know? They will never\nbe able to do this, he replied. Is not this then the very strain,\nGlaucon, said I, which dialectic science executes,\u2014which also, being\ncognizable by the intellect, may be said to be imitated by the power of\nsight,\u2014which faculty seeks, first, as we observed, to gaze at animals,\nthen at the stars, and last of all at the sun himself:\u2014so when a man\nattempts to discuss a subject without the aid of his perceptive\nfaculties, he is impelled by reason to what is individual and real\nbeing; and if he stops not, till he apprehends by intelligence what is\nthe good itself, then, indeed, he arrives at the end of the\nintelligible, as the other does at the end of the visible. Assuredly, he\nreplied. What then;\u2014do not you call this the dialectic process? What\nelse?\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 223:\n\n  It is here alleged that there are two species of motion (\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u03ac),\u2014one\n  affecting the eyes, and including the motion of the heavenly bodies,\n  which are the subject-matter of astronomical science,\u2014the other\n  affecting the ears, and comprising that harmony of the heavenly\n  motions which the Pythagoreans conceived to have given the first\n  notion of music.\n\nFootnote 224:\n\n  Glaucon is here complaining of the difficulty of the task proposed;\n  and Socrates replies, that is a mere introduction or prelude to the\n  main composition or piece of music (meaning dialectics) that is to\n  follow. The word \u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 often means _a strain_ or _piece of music_.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XIII.\u2014And now, said I, [to revert to our former simile of the man\nin the cave,] there is his liberation from chains, his turning from\nshadows towards the images and the light, and his ascent from the\nunderground cavern to the sun,\u2014and when there, his looking at images in\nwater, owing to a want of power at first of beholding animals and\nplants, and the sun itself;\u2014so also here [in the intellectual world] you\nhave the contemplation of divine phantasms, and the shadows of real\nbeings, and not the shadows of images shadowed out by another similar\nlight, as by the sun.[225]\u2014All this exercise in the arts which we have\ndiscussed has this tendency,\u2014namely, to lead back again the best part of\nthe soul to the contemplation of what is best in existing beings; as in\nthe former case, what is brightest in the body is led to what is most\nsplendid in bodily and visible existence. I admit these things, said he;\nthough it really seems to me extremely difficult to admit them, though\nin other respects difficult not to admit them. However, granting what\nhas been asserted (for we shall not only now hear these things, but\noften again discuss them), let us proceed to and discuss the strain\nitself, as we have finished the introduction. Say, then, of what kind is\nthe power of dialectic,\u2014into what species is it divided,\u2014and what are\nthe paths leading to it;\u2014for these probably conduct us to that place,\nwhich we shall find a resting-place, and the end of our journey. You\nwill not as yet, dear Glaucon, said I, be able to follow:\u2014had you been\nso, no zeal would be wanting on my part; nor should you any longer only\nsee the image of what we are now speaking about, but the truth itself,\nor what to me seems so. Whether it be so really or not, however, it is\nnot proper positively to affirm; but that it is somewhat of this kind\nmay be most strongly affirmed:\u2014may it not? Of course. And further, that\nit is the power of dialectics alone, which can discover this to a person\nskilled in what we have discussed, and that it can be done by no other\npower. This also, said he, we may positively affirm. This statement at\nleast no one, said I, will dispute with us,\u2014that no other method can\nattempt to ascertain through a regular process the nature of each\nparticular being; for all other arts respect either the opinions and\ndesires of men, or generations and compositions, or are employed wholly\nin the study of what is generated and compounded:\u2014but as for those\nothers, which we alleged to have some relation to being, as geometry,\nand its dependent sciences, we behold them, as if dreaming indeed about\nreal existence, it being impossible to have a true vision, so long as\nthey employ hypotheses and keep them immovable, without the power of\naccounting for their existence:\u2014for where the starting-point is the\nunknown, and the conclusion and intermediate steps are connected with\nthat unknown principle, how can any such kind of assent ever possibly\nbecome science? By no means, replied he. Is it not then the dialectic\nmethod only, said I, that proceeds thus onwards,\u2014removing all hypotheses\nback to the starting-point, that it may become firmly established, and\nso gradually draw and lead upward the eye of the soul, which was truly\nburied in a certain barbaric mire, by the aid and guidance of those arts\nwe have mentioned, which through custom we frequently call sciences, but\nwhich require another name clearer indeed than opinion, but more obscure\nthan science? We have somewhere in the former part of our discourse\ntermed it reflection, or reasoning. But the controversy is not, as it\nappears to me, about a mere name, when people are investigating things\nof such great importance as those now before us. It is not, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 225:\n\n  This is a passage, the difficulties of which have caused much\n  discussion. The above translation seems on the whole the best; but the\n  reader can consult the conjectures of Ast and others in Stallbaum\u2019s\n  long note on the passage.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XIV.\u2014You are pleased, then, said I, as formerly, to call the first\npart science, the second reflection, the third faith, the fourth\nconjecture,\u2014both these last being opinion, and the two former\nintelligence;\u2014and that opinion is employed also about generation, and\nintelligence about true being;\u2014likewise, that true being bears to\ngeneration the same relation as intelligence to opinion, science to\nfaith, and reflection to conjecture;\u2014but as for the analogy of the\nthings which these powers respect, and the twofold division of\neach,\u2014viz., into the objects of opinion, and those of intellect, these\nwe omit, Glaucon, that we may not be more prolix here than in our former\ndiscussions. As for me, said he, as regards those other things, so far\nas I can comprehend, I am of the same opinion. But do not you call that\nman skilled in dialectics, who apprehends the reason of the essence of\neach particular?\u2014and as for the man who is unable to give a reason to\nhimself, and to another, so far as regards this inability, will you not\nso far say he wants intelligence of the thing? Of course I shall, he\nreplied. And is not the case the same with reference to _the\ngood_?\u2014whoever cannot logically define it, abstracting the idea of _the\ngood_ from all others, and taking as in a fight one opposing argument\nafter another, and cannot proceed with unfailing proofs, eager to rest\nhis case, not on the ground of opinion, but of true being,\u2014such an one\nknows nothing of _the good itself_, nor of any good whatever: and should\nhe have attained to any knowledge of _the good_, we must say he has\nattained it by opinion, not science; that he is sleeping, and dreaming\naway his present life; and before he is roused, will descend to Hades,\nand there be profoundly and perfectly laid asleep. By Zeus, said he, I\nwill certainly affirm all these things. But surely, methinks, you will\nnot allow those children of yours, whom you are ideally training and\neducating,\u2014if ever in fact you should educate them,\u2014to have the supreme\ngovernment of the most important affairs in the state, while they are\nvoid of reason, as letters of the alphabet? By no means, he replied. You\nwill lay this down then as a law: that they shall most especially get\nthat amount of education which may enable them to question and answer in\nthe most scientific manner. I will make that a law, said he, by your\nassistance at least. Are you of opinion then, said I, that dialectic\nscience is to be placed on high as a bulwark to moral training, and that\nno other training can with propriety be more elevated than this, but\nthat this is the completion of scientific training? I am, said he.\n\nCHAP. XV.\u2014There now remains for you, said I, the regulation of the\npersons to whom we shall assign these studies, and after what manner.\nThat is evident, said he. Do you remember then, in our former election\nof rulers, what kind we chose? Of course I do, said he. As to other\nthings then, conceive, said I, that those dispositions should be\nselected, and that we should prefer the bravest, most resolute, and, as\nfar as possible, the most handsome; and besides, we must not only seek\nfor those whose manners are noble and grave,[226] but such as have\ndispositions adapted to this education. What dispositions do you enjoin?\nThey must have, said I, my excellent friend, acuteness as respects\ninstruction, that they may learn without difficulty; for souls are much\nmore daunted by severe mental studies, than by strenuous bodily\nexercise; for the employment which is most familiar to them is of a\npeculiar nature, having no connexion with the body. True, said he. And\nwe must seek for one of good memory, hardy, and in every way fond of\ntoil:\u2014or how think you any one would willingly endure bodily fatigue,\nand at the same time accomplish such learning and study? No one, said\nhe, unless he be in all respects of a naturally good disposition. The\nmistake then about philosophy, and the dishonour done to it, have been\noccasioned by this, as I formerly said, that it is not studied in a way\nsuitable to its dignity: for it ought not to have been attempted by\nbastards, but the well-born. How? said he. In the first place, he who is\nto apply to philosophy, said I, must not be lame in his love of labour,\nhalf-laborious, and half-averse to it; and this is the case, when a man\nis fond of wrestling and hunting, and all bodily exercises, but has no\nfondness for learning, or hearing instruction or making investigations,\nbut in all these respects has an aversion to labour.\u2014He too is lame,\nthough in an opposite manner from the man who has wrongly employed his\nlove of labour. You say most truly, replied he. And shall we not, said\nI, in like manner account that soul lame as to truth, which, though it\nhates a voluntary falsehood and is troubled by it, and is vastly\nindignant when others tell a lie, yet easily admits the involuntary lie,\nand if at any time it be found ignorant, is not displeased, but like a\nsavage sow willingly wallows in ignorance? Assuredly, said he. And in\nlike manner, said I, as to temperance and fortitude, and magnanimity,\nand all other branches of virtue, we must no less carefully attend to\nwhat is bastardly, and what is well-born; for when either private\npersons or a state understand not how to attend to all these things,\nthey unwarily employ the lame and the bastardly for whatever they\nwant,\u2014private persons employing them as friends, and states as\ngovernors. Such is exactly the case, said he. But we must be on our\nguard, said I, about all such things; so that if we select for such\nextensive discipline such as are entire in body and mind, and take care\nto instruct them in suitable exercises, justice herself will not blame\nus, and we shall preserve both the state and constitution; but if we\nintroduce persons of a different description into these affairs, we\nshall do everything the reverse, and pour still greater contempt on\nphilosophy. That indeed were shameful, said he. Certainly, said I. But I\nmyself seem at present to be somewhat ridiculous. How so? said he. I\nforgot, said I, that we were amusing ourselves, and I spoke with too\ngreat keenness; for, while speaking, I was referring to philosophy; and\nseeing her most unworthily abused, I seem to have been filled with\nindignation, and, through rage, as it were, with those who are the cause\nof it, to have said what I did somewhat too earnestly. No truly, said\nhe, not for me as a listener at least. Aye, but for me, said I, who said\nit:\u2014but let us not forget this, that in our former election we made\nchoice of old men, which in this will not be allowed;\u2014for we must not\nbelieve Solon, that a man in years can learn many things, far less even\nthan running, but that all the most important and numerous kinds of toil\nare assigned to the young. Of necessity, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 226:\n\n  Gr. \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b2\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f24\u03b8\u03b7. The word \u03b2\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03c5\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2 usually means\n  _stern_, _scowling_, _fierce_; but also _grave_, _serious_, as here.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XVI.\u2014Everything then relating to arithmetic and geometry and all\nthe previous instruction which they should receive before they learn\ndialectics, ought to be set before them while they are children, and on\nsuch a plan of teaching that they may learn without compulsion.[227] Why\nso? Because, said I, a free man ought to acquire no learning under\nslavery: for the labours of the body when endured through compulsion do\nnot at all deteriorate the body: but as for the soul, it can endure no\ncompulsory discipline. True, said he. Do not then, said I, my best of\nfriends, force boys to their learning; but train them up by amusements,\nthat you may be better able to discern the direction of each one\u2019s\ngenius. What you say, replied he, is reasonable. Do not you remember our\nstating then, said I, that the boys should even be carried to war, as\nspectators, on horseback, and be brought as near as possible with\nsafety, and allowed like young hounds, to taste the blood? I remember,\nsaid he. Whoever then, said I, shall appear the most forward in all\nthese labours, studies, and dangers, such as these are to be selected to\na certain number. At what age? said he. When they have finished their\nnecessary exercises, said I; for this period of life, even should it\nlast two or three years, cannot accomplish anything else; for fatigue\nand sleep are hostile to learning; and this too is none of the least of\ntheir trials, what each will prove himself in his exercises. Certainly,\nsaid he. And after this period, said I, such as have formerly been\nselected of the age of twenty are to receive greater honours than\nothers; and those studies, which in their youth they have pursued\npromiscuously, must be brought before them in one view, that they may\nsee the connexion of the whole with each other, and with the nature of\nreal being. This indeed is the only kind of instruction that will abide\npermanently in those in whom it is engendered. And this, said I, is the\nbest criterion for distinguishing talents naturally fitted for\ndialectics, from those which are not so. He who perceives this alliance\nis skilled in dialectics; he who does not, is not so. I am of the same\nopinion, said he. You will need then, said I, after observing these\nthings, and seeing who are most distinguished herein, and who persevere\nboth in learning and in war, and in other things established by law, to\nmake choice of them after they exceed thirty years, selecting from those\nbefore chosen, and then advance them to greater honours. Observing then\nlikewise by the test of dialectics, in order to ascertain which of them\ncan without aid from the eyes, or any other sense, proceed with truth to\nbeing itself. And here, my companion, is a work of great caution. In\nwhat principally? said he. Do not you perceive, said I, how great is the\nevil which at present attends dialectics? What is it, said he, you mean?\n[Its followers,] observed I, are somehow or other full of disorder. Very\nmuch so, replied he. Think you then, said I, that their being so is at\nall extraordinary; and will you not forgive them? How do you mean? said\nhe. Just as if, said I, a certain supposititious child were brought up\nin great opulence in a rich and noble family, and amidst many\nflatterers, and were to perceive, when grown up to manhood, that he is\nnot descended from those alleged to be his parents, but yet cannot\ndiscover his real parents; can you guess how such an one would feel both\ntowards his flatterers and his supposed parents, both at the time when\nhe knew nothing of the cheat, and again at the time when he came to\nperceive it?\u2014are you willing to hear me while I give a guess? I am\nwilling, said he. I guess then, said I, that he will honour his father\nand mother, and other supposed relatives, more than the flatterers, and\nthat he will neglect them less in case of their need, and be less apt to\ndo or say anything amiss to them, and in matters of consequence will\ndisobey them less than those flatterers, during that period in which he\nknows not the truth. It is likely, said he. But when he perceives the\nreal state of the case, I again guess, he will relax in honour and\nrespect for them, and attend to the flatterers, and be much more\npersuaded by them now than formerly, and live also according to their\nfashion,\u2014while for the father, and the rest of his fictitious relations,\nif he be not of an entirely good natural disposition, he will have no\nregard. You mention everything, said he, just as it would happen. But in\nwhat manner does this comparison respect those conversant with\ndialectics? In this:\u2014there are certain doctrines about justice and\nhonour, in which we have been bred, as by parents, from childhood to\nrender them respect and obedience. There are, said he. Aye,\u2014and there\nare other pursuits also, the opposite of these, attended by pleasures,\nthat flatter and seduce the soul, but do not persuade those who are in\nany degree well-mannered; because these honour their relations, and obey\nthem. Such is the case. What then, said I, if to a person thus affected\nthe question be proposed, What is the beautiful? and, in reply to what\nhe has heard from the lawgiver, he be refuted by reason; which\nfrequently and in all ways convicts him and brings him round to the\nopinion, that objects are no more beautiful than they are deformed; and\nso also, as respects what is just and good, and whatever else he held in\nhighest esteem, what do you think such an one will after this do, with\nregard to these things, as to honouring and obeying them? Of necessity,\nsaid he, he will no longer either honour or obey them, as he formerly\nhad done. If then, said I, he no longer deems these things honourable,\nand allied to him as formerly, and cannot discover those which really\nare so, can he possibly with readiness join himself to any other life\nthan that of flattery? It is not possible, said he. And from being an\nobserver of the law, he will now, I think, appear to be a law-breaker.\nOf necessity.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 227:\n\n  So Quinctilian in his Institutes, lib. i. c. 1, 20:\u2014Nam id in primis\n  cavere oportebit, ne studia qui amare nondum potest oderit, et\n  amaritudinem semel perceptam etiam ultra rudes annos reformidat.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XVII.\u2014Is it not likely then, said I, that the affections of\npersons who thus engage in reasoning, are deserving, as I was just now\nsaying, of great consideration? Aye, and pity too, said he. While you\ntake care then, that this pitiable case befal not those of the age of\nthirty, ought they not by every method to apply themselves to reasoning?\nCertainly, said he. And is not this one prudent caution,\u2014that they\nmeddle not with discussions while young: for you have not forgotten, I\nsuppose, that youths, when they first join in discussions, abuse them by\nway of mere amusement, ever using them for the purpose of contradiction;\nand in imitation of those who are refuters, they themselves oppose\nothers, ever delighting like whelps to drag and tear to pieces, by\narguments, those who are their neighbours. Especially so, said he. And\nafter they have confuted many, and been themselves confuted by many,\nthen they vehemently and speedily fall into an indifference about their\nformer opinions; and by these means they themselves, and the whole of\nphilosophy, are calumniated by the rest of the world. Most true, said\nhe. But he who is of a riper age, said I, will not like to share in such\nmadness, but will imitate him who is disposed to reason and inquire\nafter truth, rather than one who, for the sake of diversion, amuses\nhimself by contradiction; and he will himself be more modest, thus\nrendering the practice of disputing honourable instead of dishonourable.\nRight, said he. Have not then all our former remarks been rightly\npremised, by way of precaution on this point, that those who are to be\ntaught dialectics should have gracious and steady dispositions, and not\nas now, when every chance person, even when quite unfit, is admitted\nthereto? Certainly, said he. Is twice the former period then sufficient\nfor a man to be diligently and constantly engaged in acquiring\ndialectics without doing anything else but practising by way of contrast\nall bodily exercises? Do you mean six years, said he, or four? No\nmatter, said I;\u2014make it five:\u2014for after this they must be made to\ndescend to that cave again, and obliged to govern both in things\nrelating to war, and in other youthful offices, so as not to fall short\nof others in experience; and among these they must be still further\ntested, that it may be seen whether they will continue firm, when drawn\nin all directions, or be somewhat drawn aside. And how long a time, said\nhe, do you reckon for this? Fifteen years, said I. And when they are of\nthe age of fifty, such of them as have been kept safely, and have in\nevery way obtained all the prizes both in actions and sciences, are now\nto be led to the end, and are to be obliged to incline the eye of their\nsoul to look at that which imparts light to all things, and, when they\ncontemplate _the good itself_, to use it as a pattern, each in turn,\neither state or private persons, for adorning themselves, during the\nremainder of their life, for the most part, indeed, occupying themselves\nwith philosophy, and when it is their turn, toiling in political\naffairs, and taking the government, each for the good of the state\nperforming this office, not as something honourable, but as a thing\nnecessary; and after bringing up others also from time to time to be of\nthe same character, and leaving them to be state-guardians, they depart\nto inhabit the islands of the blest:\u2014and the state, will erect monuments\nfor them at the public cost, and if the Pythian goddess consent, will\noffer sacrifice, as to superior beings,\u2014if not, as to happy and divine\nmen. Socrates, said he, you have made our governors all-beautiful, just\nas a sculptor would. And our governesses likewise, Glaucon, said I;\u2014for\nsuppose not that what I have said referred more to men than women,\u2014such\nat least as have sufficient talent. Right, said he, if at least, as we\nsaid, they are to share in all things equally with the men. What then,\nsaid I;\u2014do you agree, that with reference to a state and form of\ngovernment, we have not altogether stated mere wishes,\u2014but such things\nas though difficult, are yet in a certain respect possible, and not\notherwise than has been mentioned,\u2014[that is,] when true philosophers,\nwhether one or more of them, on becoming governors in a state, despise\npresent honours, and deem them illiberal and of no value; but esteem,\nabove all things, rectitude and the honours therefrom derived; account\njustice as a thing of all others the greatest, and most absolutely\nnecessary; and, by ministering to it and advancing it, thoroughly\nregulate the constitution of their own state? How? said he. Such, said\nI, of the more advanced in life, as have lived ten years in the state,\nlet them send all into the country; and, removing their children away\nfrom the habits now contracted by domestics, let them bring them up\naccording to their own manners and laws, as we formerly described\nthem:\u2014thus the state and government that we have described being most\nspeedily and easily established, will both be happy itself, and of the\ngreatest service to the people among whom it is established. Very much\nso indeed, said he;\u2014and you seem to me, Socrates, to have very well\ndescribed how this state will rise, if it rise at all. Well then, said\nI, have we not had sufficient talk, both about such a state as this, and\nthe individual that corresponds thereto?\u2014For it is now clear, perhaps,\nwhat kind of a man we shall say he ought to be. It is evident, replied\nhe; and your inquiry, methinks, is now at an end.\n\n\n                      THE END OF THE SEVENTH BOOK.\n\n\n                               BOOK VIII.\n\n                               ARGUMENT.\n\nThe mode of rightly governing a state having been duly set forth, Plato\n    in the _eighth book_ treats of the bad government which he had\n    previously designated as \u1f00\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03af\u03b1. Having mentioned then three\n    principal forms of government, monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy,\n    he shows in this and also the following book the excesses and\n    defects peculiar to each. He considers these faults in two lights;\n    first, as affecting the manners of _the citizens individually_; and,\n    secondly, those of the state collectively. Aristocracy, says he, is\n    apt to verge into oligarchy,\u2014democracy into ochlarchy, and monarchy\n    into \u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03af\u03b1 and tyranny. The two former classes only are treated\n    in this book.\n\nCHAP. I.\u2014Well then, Glaucon, these things have been agreed on, that in a\nstate that is to be perfectly administered the women are to be in\ncommon, the children in common, and their education also,\u2014so likewise\ntheir employments both in war and peace in common, and their kings the\nbest possible both in philosophy and warfare. It has been so agreed, he\nreplied. And this, moreover, we agreed on, that when the commanders are\nappointed and leading their soldiers, they should dwell in habitations,\nsuch as we have described, containing nothing particularly belonging to\nany individual, but common to all; and besides these habitations, we\nagreed also, if you recollect, as to their possessions, to what sort\nthey should be entitled. Aye, I recollect, said he, that we thought them\nentitled to no possessions whatever, like the other citizens, but that,\nlike military wrestlers and guardians, they should receive the yearly\npay of their service in maintenance provided by the rest, and should\ntake care both of themselves and the rest of the state. You say rightly,\nsaid I:\u2014but come,\u2014since we have settled these matters, let us recollect\nfrom what point we made this digression, in order that we may again take\nup the same argument. No hard matter, said he;\u2014for you were pursuing\nmuch about the same argument respecting the state, as you did just now,\nwhen saying that you considered such a state to be good as you then\ndescribed, and the individual man also analogous thereto,\u2014and this, too,\nas it seems, when you were able to define both a better state and a\nbetter man. You said, moreover, that all the rest were wrong, if this\nwere right;\u2014and of the other kinds of states you said, I remember, that\nfour were deserving of consideration, with the view of seeing the errors\ntherein and the people thereto corresponding,\u2014in order that by seeing\nall these and deciding on the best and worst man, we might inquire\nwhether the best be the happiest, and the worst the most wretched or\notherwise:\u2014and when I inquired which were the four kinds of states to\nwhich you referred, on this Polemarchus and Adimantus interrupted\nus;[228] and so now resuming the subject you have arrived at this point.\nYou have recollected it, said I, with great accuracy. Once more then,\nlike a wrestler, furnish me with the same handle; and when I ask the\nsame question, try to say just what you were then about to tell me. Aye,\nsaid I, if I can. Moreover, said he, I am anxious also myself to hear\nwhat those four kinds of states were. You shall hear that, and welcome,\nsaid I:\u2014for, of those which I can mention and which have names,\u2014that\npraised by the multitude is the Cretan and Laced\u00e6monian polity,\u2014the\nsecond, and that which deserves the second praise, called oligarchy, a\npolity full of abundant evils,\u2014that which differs from it, and follows\nnext in order, democracy,\u2014and then genuine tyranny, [or monarchy,]\ndiffering from all the others, the fourth and last ailment of the\nstate:\u2014surely you have no other form of polity, having a distinct and\nestablished species?\u2014for small principalities and purchased kingdoms,\nand such-like polities as these, are of an intermediate class, and may\nbe found no less among barbarians than Greeks. Aye, indeed, said\nhe;\u2014many are mentioned, and those, too, absurd enough.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 228:\n\n  This refers to the interruption at the beginning of the fifth book,\n  when, Socrates being about to describe the four kinds of wickedness in\n  both individuals and states, was desired to develop his notions about\n  the community of women and children.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. II.\u2014Do you know, then, said I, that of men there are as many\ndescriptions as of states?\u2014or do you think that states, somehow or\nother, spring out of an oak or a rock, and not out of the habits of\nthose in the state, whither, indeed, everything else must verge and be\nattracted? I, for my part, think it is derived from no other source than\nthat. In that case, if there be five kinds of states, the intellectual\ndistinctions of the individuals will be five likewise. Of course. As for\nthe person then, who resembles an aristocracy, we have already described\nhim, and rightly pronounced him to be both good and just. Aye, we have\ndescribed him. Are we then, in the next place, to argue about the\ninferior,\u2014the contentious and ambitious man formed according to the\nSpartan model, and him again, who resembles an oligarchy, or a\ndemocracy, or a tyranny, in order that we may contemplate the most\nunjust, and contrast him with the most just, and thus our inquiry may be\ncomplete, how unmingled justice stands in opposition to unmingled\ninjustice, as respects the happiness or misery of its possessor,\u2014thus\neither pursuing injustice in compliance with Thrasymachus\u2019s suggestion,\nor else justice in compliance with our present argument? We must do so,\nby all means, said he. Are we then, just as we began, to consider moral\nhabits in states primarily, or rather in private individuals, as being\nthere more clearly developed; and now must we not thus first consider\nthe ambitious republic (for I cannot call it by any other term, but only\ndenominate it a timocracy or a timarchy), and in connexion with it an\nindividual of the same character,\u2014then again an oligarchy and a man of\noligarchical character,\u2014and so also, when considering a democracy, must\nwe contemplate a democratic person,\u2014and, fourthly, coming to a state\ngoverned by a tyrant, consider a person of tyrannical disposition;\u2014thus\ntrying to become competent judges about what we proposed? According to\nreason, indeed, such should be both our view and decision.\n\nCHAP. III.\u2014Come then, said I;\u2014let us try to show in what way a timocracy\narises out of an aristocracy:\u2014is it not plain, at any rate, that every\ngovernment changes through the agency of that portion which holds the\npublic offices, whenever sedition arises in that particular part;\nwhereas, if it only agree with itself, however small the state, it\ncannot possibly be disturbed? Such is the case. How then, Glaucon, said\nI, will our state be disturbed and how will our allies and rulers fall\ninto quarrels with each other and amongst themselves:\u2014do you wish, like\nHomer, that we implore the muses to tell us how first sedition rose, and\naddress them in tragic fashion, as if we were children, playing and\njesting, so to speak, with seriousness uttering lofty language? How so?\nSomehow thus:\u2014it is hard indeed for a state thus constituted to become\ndisturbed;\u2014but, as everything generated is liable to corruption, not\neven such a constitution as this can abide for ever, but must be\ndissolved:\u2014and its dissolution is as follows.\u2014Not only as regards\nterrestrial plants, but likewise terrestrial animals, a fertility and\nsterility both of soul and body take place, when the revolutions of the\nheavenly bodies complete the periphery of their respective orbits, which\nare shorter to the shorter-lived, and contrariwise to the contrary: and\nwith reference to the fertility and sterility of your race, though those\nare wise whom you have trained as governors of the state, yet they will\nnever, by intellect and sense united, observe the proper season for\nprocreation, but let it slip by, and sometimes generate children when\nthey ought not.\u2014To that, however, which is divinely generated, there is\na period which is comprehended by the perfect number; whereas, to that\ngenerated by man, there is one, in which the augmentations, both\nsurpassing and surpassed, after having received three separations and\nfour boundaries of things similar and dissimilar, increasing and\ndecreasing, will render all things correspondent and rational;\u2014of which\nthe sesquiternian root, conjoined with the pentad and thrice increased,\naffords two harmonies,\u2014one of these, the equally equal, just a hundred\ntimes as much;\u2014while the other, of equal length indeed, but of oblong\nshape, is of a hundred numbers from effable diameters of the pentad,\neach wanting one, two of which are irrational and of a hundred cubes of\nthe triad.\u2014And the whole of this geometric number is, having such an\ninfluence, concerned with worse and better generations.[229] Now, if our\ngovernors be ignorant of this, and join our couples together\nunseasonably, the children will neither possess talent, nor be fortunate\neither; and though former governors should have placed the best of them\nin office, nevertheless as they are unworthy of it, and only come into\nthe power which their fathers had, they will begin to neglect us in\ntheir guardianship, holding music first of all, and then gymnastics in\nless esteem than they ought, and hence our young men will become too\nlittle disposed to music;\u2014in consequence of which the governors to be\nappointed from among them will not be very clever guardians, as respects\nproving, according to Hesiod and ourselves, what are the several species\nof talents, the golden, the silver, the brazen, and the iron. Where\niron, however, mingles with silver, and brass with gold, then there\narises a dissimilitude and unharmonious unevenness;\u2014(and when this is\nthe case, wherever it prevails, it perpetually generates war and\nhatred;)\u2014we must say that sedition belongs to such a race as this,\nwhenever it arises. Aye,\u2014and we shall say that the answer was correctly\ngiven, replied he. Aye, and it must be so too, said I\u2014as they are Muses.\nWhat then, said he, do the Muses say next? Sedition having once arisen,\nsaid I, two classes of genius,\u2014the iron and the brazen, will be allured\nto gain, and the acquisition of land and houses, gold and silver,\u2014while\nthe golden and silver, not being in poverty but naturally rich, will\nlead souls to virtue and their original constitution; whereas, should\nthey be violent and strive one against the other, they would agree to\ndivide their lands and houses as individual possessions; and then,\nenslaving those formerly guarded by them as freemen, friends, and\ntutors, keep them as denizens and slaves, themselves providing for war\nand their own protection. This revolution, said he, seems to me to have\njust this origin. Will not then this government, said I, be a medium\nbetween aristocracy and oligarchy? Certainly.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 229:\n\n  This passage, descriptive of the geometric or fatal number, has\n  baffled the ingenuity of every commentator. Any literal translation is\n  little better than nonsense, and any explanation would be too long for\n  a mere note. The views of Baroccius, Schneider, &c. are given in a\n  dissertation at the end of the volume;\u2014but they are all far from\n  satisfactory.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. IV.\u2014Thus then will the revolution be effected, and when it has\ntaken place, what arrangement will then be made?\u2014Is it not plain, that\nin some things they will follow the pattern of the former republic, and\nin others oligarchy, as halfway between the two, and having something\nalso peculiar to itself? Just so, he replied. Will they, then, in\nhonouring their rulers, in allowing their military to abstain from\nagriculture, as with us from mechanical and other money-making pursuits,\nin establishing common meals, and in studying both gymnastics and\nmilitary contests,\u2014in all these things will they not follow the pattern\nof the last form of government? Yes. But, through the fear of admitting\nwise men into the magisterial office, inasmuch as the state no longer\npossesses men who are simple and resolute, but only such as are of a\nmixed character,\u2014and through an inclination towards the high-spirited\nand even simple, naturally more suited for war than peace, and also\ntowards those who are clever at tricks and schemes, spending their whole\ntime in continual war;\u2014in all these respects, will it not possess many\nsuch things as are peculiar to itself? Yes. And such as these, said I,\nwill ever be lovers of wealth, just like those in oligarchies, and will\nhave a wild though disguised love for gold and silver, as if they\npossessed treasuries of their own and domestic storehouses in which to\nhoard and hide them,\u2014and circularly-enclosed houses also,\u2014nests as it\nwere wholly their own, in which they can lose and spend much, together\nwith their own wives and such others as they fancy. Most true, said he.\nWell then,\u2014will they not from their love of wealth be sparing of it\nalso, though not openly acquiring it, but disposed to squander other\npeople\u2019s property through lustful desire and secret indulgence in\npleasure;\u2014just as children escaping from parental law, who have been\nbrought up not by persuasion but force, owing to their neglect of the\ntrue muse, which unites reasoning and philosophy and the preference also\nwhich they give to gymnastics over music? It is quite a mixed\ngovernment, said he, of which you are now speaking,\u2014compounded of good\nand ill. Aye, mixed indeed, said I:\u2014but the most remarkable thing in it\nis what simply arises from the prevalence of high spirit,\u2014contention and\nambition. Aye, just so, said he. Such then is the origin and character\nof this form of government, if one may ideally sketch it without giving\na complete description,\u2014though enough for us to see from this\nsketch,\u2014who is the just and the unjust man; and it were a work of\ntedious length to argue on all governments and all the various manners\nof men without any exception whatever. Quite right, said he.\n\nCHAP. V.\u2014What then will the individual be, who corresponds to this form\nof government;\u2014how did he become so: and what is his nature? I think\nindeed, said Adimantus, he has a tendency to be like this Glaucon here,\nas far at least as concerns the love of contention. Perhaps so, said I,\nas to this particular;\u2014but I think, that in these respects he cannot at\nall resemble him. How? He must necessarily, said I, be more self-willed,\nand somewhat unapt to music, though fond of it; and fond of hearing, but\nby no means a rhetorician:\u2014such an one will be rough towards the slaves,\nwithout despising them, as the man does who is fairly educated. He will\nbe polite towards the free, submissive to governors, a lover of dominion\nand honour,\u2014not thinking it proper to govern by eloquence or anything of\nthe kind, but by political management and military achievements, being a\nlover of gymnastics and hunting. This indeed, said he, is the spirit of\nthat form of government. And will not such an one, said I, despise money\nduring his youth, but the older he grows, always value it the more,\nbecause he partakes of the covetous disposition, and is not sincerely\naffected towards virtue, because destitute of the best guardian? Of what\nguardian? said Adimantus. Reason, said I, accompanied with music, which\nbeing the only inbred preservative of virtue, dwells with the possessor\nthrough the whole of life. You say well, he replied. And surely the\ntimocratic youth, said I, resembles such a state. Certainly. And such an\none, said I, is somehow thus formed.\u2014He may happen perhaps to be the\nyouthful son of a worthy father, dwelling in an ill-governed state, and\nshunning public honours, magisterial offices, lawsuits, and all such\npublic business, content to live neglected in obscurity, that he may\nhave no trouble. In what manner then, said he, is he formed? First of\nall, said I, when he hears his mother complaining that her husband is\nnot in magisterial office, and that she is on this account neglected\namong other women, and then sees that he is not over attentive to the\nacquisition of wealth, and does not wrangle and quarrel privately and\npublicly in the law courts, but on all these occasions acts\nindolently;\u2014and when she perceives him always attentive to himself, and\ntreating her neither with extreme respect nor contempt;\u2014on all these\naccounts, she is filled with indignation, and tells her son that his\nfather is unmanly, extremely careless, and whatever else wives are wont\nto chant about such matters. Aye,\u2014many things, truly, said Adimantus,\nand quite in accordance with their spirit.\u2014And you know, said I, that\nthe domestics likewise of such families, such of them as would be\nthought good-natured, sometimes say privately the very same to the sons;\nand if they see either a debtor whom the father does not sue, or any one\notherwise acting unjustly, they exhort him to punish all such persons\nwhen he comes to manhood, and to be more of a man than his father.\u2014And\nwhen he goes abroad, he hears other such-like things, and sees also that\nsuch in the state as attend to their own affairs are called simple, and\nheld in little esteem, while such as do not attend to their affairs are\nboth honoured and commended.\u2014The youth then who hears and sees all this,\nand then again hears his father\u2019s speeches, and closely observes his\npursuits in contrast with those of others, is drawn in two opposite\ndirections,\u2014his father irrigating and promoting the growth of his\nrational part, and the others his passions and high spirit;\u2014and so,\nbeing not naturally bad, but spoiled only by evil connexion with others,\nhe is brought to a mean between both and delivers up the government\nwithin himself to a middle power,\u2014the love of contention and high\nspirit:\u2014and so he becomes a haughty and ambitious man. I think, said he,\nyou have quite correctly explained the training of such a person.\u2014We\nhave here then, said I, the second form of government and the second\nindividual. Aye,\u2014we have, said he.\n\nCHAP. VI.\u2014Shall we not then after this say with \u00c6schylus,\u2014\n\n           Where state to state,\u2014then each to each incline;\u2014\n\nor rather, shall we, according to our plan, establish the state first?\nCertainly, he replied. It would be an oligarchy then, methinks, that\nwould succeed such a government as this. But what constitution is it,\nsaid he, that you call an oligarchy? That government, said I, which is\nfounded on the estimate of men\u2019s property;\u2014in which the rich rule, and\nthe poor have no share in the government. Aye,\u2014I understand, said he.\nShould we not, first of all explain, how the change is made from a\ntimocracy to an oligarchy? We should. And surely the way, in which this\nchange is made, said I, is manifest even to the blind! How? That\ntreasury, said I, which each one fills with gold destroys such a state;\nfor, first of all, they discover for themselves modes of expense, for\nwhich they set aside the laws,\u2014both themselves and their wives\ndisobeying them. Very likely, said he, and afterwards, I think, when one\nobserves another, and enters into rivalry, the people generally become\nof this character. It is likely. And thence then, said I, as they\nadvance in the intensity of the desire for acquiring wealth, the more\nhonourable they account this, the more dishonourable will they deem\nvirtue;\u2014for is not virtue so at variance with wealth, that, supposing\neach to be placed at the opposite end of a balance, they would always\nweigh the one against the other? Justly so, he replied. While wealth\nthen and the wealthy are honoured in the state, both virtue and good men\nmust necessarily be held in dishonour? It is plain. And what is honoured\nis always pursued, while what is dishonoured is neglected? Just so.\nInstead then of being contentious and ambitious men, they have at last\nbecome lovers of gain and wealth;\u2014and the rich they praise and admire,\nelevating them to the magistracy, while the poor man they quite despise.\nCertainly. And do they not enact laws, marking out the boundary of the\noligarchal constitution, and regulating the quantity of oligarchal power\nby the quantity of wealth,\u2014allotting more to the more wealthy and less\nto those less so, intimating that he who has not the amount settled by\nlaw can have no share in the government;\u2014and do they not settle these\nmatters compulsorily, by force of arms, establishing such a state after\nprevious intimidation?\u2014Is it not thus? Aye, indeed. This then, so to\nspeak, is its constitution? Yes, replied he. What then is the nature of\nthe government, and what are the faults thereto ascribed? First of all,\nsaid I, of this very thing, the constitution itself, what think you?\u2014for\nconsider, if a person were thus to appoint pilots of ships, by the\namount of their property never intrusting one of them with a poor man,\nthough better skilled in piloting,\u2014what would then be the consequence?\nThey would make a very bad voyage, he replied. And is it not the same\nabout any other matter, or any presiding office whatever? I think so. Is\nit always so, except in a state, said I; or is it so as regards a state\nlikewise? There, beyond all others, said he; inasmuch as it is the most\ndifficult, and most important kind of government. Oligarchy then would\nseem to have this unquestionably very great fault. So it seems. But\nwhat;\u2014is this no less a fault? What? That such a state is not integrally\none, but necessarily two; one containing the poor, and the other the\nrich, dwelling in one place and always plotting against one another. By\nZeus, said he, not a whit less;\u2014and this besides is a fine thing,\u2014the\nincapacity of waging war, through the necessity, either of employing the\narmed multitude, who are to be dreaded more than the enemy themselves,\nor else refusing to employ them at all, and so appearing quite\noligarchical in battle,\u2014being unwilling also to advance money for the\npublic service, through a natural disposition to covetousness? This is\nnot well. What then;\u2014with reference to what we long ago\ncondemned,\u2014engaging in a variety of pursuits, the same persons in such a\nstate giving their attendance all at once to agriculture, money-making,\nand military affairs; does this seem right? Not at all, of course.\n\nCHAP. VII.\u2014Let us see, then,\u2014does this form of government above all\nothers introduce this greatest of all evils? What is that? The\npermission to each person of selling the whole of his effects, and to\nanother of purchasing them from him, and the privilege to the seller of\ndwelling in our state, though he belongs to no one class therein, and\ncan be called neither a money-maker, nor mechanic, nor horseman, nor\nfoot-soldier, but poor and destitute. Yes, above all others, he replied.\nSuch a thing is not prevented in oligarchal governments; for, in that\ncase some of them would not be over-rich, and others altogether poor.\nRight. But consider this likewise;\u2014when such a rich man as this spends\nhis property, would it do the state any more service, as regards the\nobjects just mentioned; or did he only seem to be one of the\nmagistrates, while in truth he was neither magistrate nor servant to the\nstate, but only a consumer of its substance? Aye,\u2014he did seem so, he\nreplied;\u2014he was nothing but a consumer. Do you desire, then, said I,\nthat we should say of him, that, as a drone in a beehive brings ailment\namong the whole swarm, just so, such a person as this, like a drone in\nhis house, is the ailment of a state? Quite so, Socrates, he replied.\nAnd has not God, Adimantus, made all the winged drones without any\nsting,\u2014and those that have feet, some without stings, and some with\ndreadful stings?\u2014And do not those that are without stings continue poor\nto old age:\u2014whereas those that have stings, are those that we called\nmischievous? Most true, said he. It is plain then, said I, that in a\nstate where you would observe poor people, there are doubtless concealed\nthieves, cutpurses, sacrilegious persons, and workers of all such evils.\nEvidently so, said he. What then? Do not you find poor people in states\nthat are placed under oligarchal government? Almost all are so, said he,\nexcept the governors themselves. And do we not think, said I, that they\ncontain within them many mischievous persons with stings, whom the\nmagistrates must restrain by vigilance and compulsory measures? We do\nindeed think so, said he. And must we not say, that it is through want\nof education, bad nurture, and a corrupt constitution of state, that\npersons of this character are here engendered? Yes we must. Well then,\nis not the state oligarchally governed when under an oligarchy of this\ncharacter; and is it not affected by all these evils, and probably more\ntoo? It is nearly so, said he. Let us distinguish then this form of\ngovernment likewise, said I, which they call oligarchy, as one having\nits governors [elected] according to the valuation of their property.\n\nCHAP. VIII.\u2014Next let us consider the man who is analogous to this [form\nof government,] how he is formed and what is his character. By all\nmeans, said he. Is it not thus then chiefly that the individual man\nchanges from the timocratic to the oligarchic form? How? When such an\none has a son, he, first of all, emulates his father, and follows his\nsteps; afterwards, when he sees him suddenly dashed on the state [like a\nship] on a rock, squandering his property and ruining himself, either at\nthe head of the army, or in some other high magisterial office,\u2014then\nfalling into the law-courts, ruined by public informers, and either put\nto death, or exiled, and stripped of his honours and entire property. It\nis likely, said he. Aye, my friend, and after seeing and suffering this,\nand losing his property, he instantly, through fear, I think, pushes\nheadlong from the throne within his soul, his ambitious, lofty temper,\nand at length, humbled by poverty, turns his attention to gain, lives\nmeanly and sparingly, and by hard labour acquires wealth;\u2014do you not\nthink that such a man will seat on that throne in his soul a covetous\nand money-loving spirit, making it a mighty king within himself, and\ngirding it, as it were, with tiaras, and bracelets, and sceptres? I\nthink so, said he. But, as for the principles of reason and high spirit,\nhaving laid them both at his feet on either side as mere slaves, he\nforbids the one to reason at all, or at any rate to inquire into aught\nelse, except by what means a smaller amount of property can be made\ngreater; and the other, again, to admire and honour anything but riches\nand the rich, and to receive honour with any other view than the\nacquisition of money, or whatever else may tend thereto. There is no\nchange, said he, so sudden and powerful as that of an ambitious to an\navaricious man. Is not this, then, said I, the oligarchic man? Aye\u2014the\nchange which he undergoes is from a person who resembles that government\nfrom which oligarchy arises. Shall we consider, now, if he does at all\nresemble it? Let us consider.\n\nCHAP. IX.\u2014Does he not, in the first place, resemble it in valuing money\nabove all things? Of course he does. And he does so surely in being\nsparing and laborious, satisfying only his necessary desires, and not\nallowing himself any other expenses, but subduing the other desires as\nfoolish. Certainly. And in being, said I, a sordid kind of man, making\ngain of everything, intent on hoarding,\u2014one, such as the multitude\nextols, will not this be the man that resembles such a form of\ngovernment? Aye, I think so, he replied: wealth at least must be highly\nvalued by the state, as well as by the individual of such a character.\nAye,\u2014for I do not think, said I, that such a man has attended to\neducation. I do not think he has, said he; for he would not then have\nchosen a blind guide for his chorus.[230] But further still, consider\nthis attentively, said I;\u2014must we not say that, owing to his want of\neducation, dronish desires springing in him, some of them beggarly, and\nsome mischievous, forcibly kept under restraint by the rest of his\npursuits? Just so, said he. Do you know, then, said I, where you will\nbest observe their wickedness? Where? said he. [By looking] at their\ntutelage of orphans, or whatever else of this kind comes in their way,\nso as to give them much power to do injustice. True. Is not this then\nquite clear, that in all other kinds of contracts, wherever such an one\ngains approbation, by the mere semblance of justice, he restrains the\nother wrong desires within him by exercising a certain moderation, not\nfrom any persuasion that it is not better to indulge them, nor from\nsober reason, but from necessity and fear, because he trembles for the\nremainder of his property? Certainly, said he. Aye, by Zeus, said I, my\nfriend, most of them, when they want to spend the property of others,\ndisplay passions much akin to those of drones. Yes, exceedingly so,\nobserved he. Such a person as this, then, will not be free from internal\ndiscord; nor be integrally one, but a kind of double man; possessing\ndesires, however, that are at variance with one another, the better,\nusually, governing the worse. It is so. On these accounts, then, such an\none, methinks, will present a better appearance than many others; though\nthe true virtue of a harmonized and consistent soul will wholly escape\nhim. Aye, it seems so. And the sparing man, either privately or in the\nstate, will be but a poor rival, as regards any victory or other\nstruggle for honour; because either for reputation\u2019s sake, or any such\ncontests, he is unwilling to spend his property, through fear of\nkindling expensive desires, and calling them into alliance or\nrivalry;\u2014and warring, as he does, in oligarchic fashion, with only a few\nof his resources, he is in most cases defeated, though he still\ncontrives to get rich. Quite so, replied he. Can we any longer hesitate,\nsaid I, to rank the niggard and the money-maker as resembling a state\nunder an oligarchy? By no means, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 230:\n\n  Allusion is here made to Plutus, the god of riches,\u2014who is usually\n  represented blind. The word \u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6, which is the reading of the best\n  MSS., refers to the noisy crowd of desires that hurry a man through\n  life.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. X.\u2014Democracy, as it seems, must next be considered,\u2014how it arises,\nand when once arisen, what kind of man it produces;\u2014in order that\nunderstanding the nature of such a man, we may at once bring him to\ntrial. Yes, said he;\u2014that would be our consistent course. Well then,\nsaid I, is not the change from oligarchy to democracy produced in some\nsuch way as this,\u2014through the insatiable desire of the proposed good,\nviz. the desire of becoming as rich as possible? How? Inasmuch as its\ngovernors govern through the possession of great wealth, they will have\nno wish, methinks, to restrain by law the profligate portion of the\nyoung men from squandering and wasting their property at pleasure;\nbecause, by purchasing such persons\u2019 effects, and lending on usury, they\nwill not only be still more enriched, but held in higher repute. Far\nmore so than any other. This, then, is already quite clear in our state,\nthat to honour riches, and at the same time practise temperance, is\nimpossible, since either the one or the other must necessarily be\nneglected. Of course, that is quite plain, said he. While, therefore,\nthey are neglectful in oligarchies, and allow the youths to indulge in\nlicentiousness, they must necessarily sometimes bring men to poverty,\neven those that are not ignoble. Quite so. And these, I suppose, stand\nin our state both spurred, and in armour; some in debt, others in\ndisgrace, others in both, hating and conspiring against those who have\ngot what belonged to them, and against others also, for mere love of\nchange. Aye, such is the case. These usurers, however, bent on their own\ninterests, and apparently unobservant of these, wound all that ever\nyield to them by advancing them money, and so, by getting multiplied\ninterest for the parent principal,[231] fill the state with many a drone\nand pauper. Aye, with many a one, he replied. And even when such an evil\nis raging in the state, said I, they are not willing to extinguish it,\nnot even by restraining people from spending their property at pleasure,\nnor yet in this way by making another law to destroy such disorders.\nWhat law? One that shall follow the other, compelling the citizens to\ncultivate virtue; for if they were bidden to engage in voluntary\ncontracts chiefly at their own hazard, their usurers would create less\nscandal in the state, and fewer also of the evils now mentioned would\narise therein. Far fewer, said he. At present, however, said I, it is by\nall these means that the governors in the state thus dispose of the\ngoverned; and both as to themselves and those belonging to them, do they\nnot render the youths luxurious and idle as respects all bodily and\nmental exercises, effeminate in bearing pleasure and pains, and indolent\nlikewise? What else? And as to themselves, they neglect everything but\nthe acquisition of wealth, and pay no more regard to virtue than the\npoor? No, surely. Having then been thus trained up, when the governors\nand their subjects are thrown together, either on a journey along the\nroad, or in other meetings, either at public spectacles, or on warlike\nexpeditions, either as fellow-sailors or fellow-soldiers, or when they\nsee one another in real dangers, the poor in this case are by no means\ndespised by the rich;\u2014but very often a robust fellow, poor and sunburnt,\nwhose post in battle is by the side of a rich man bred up in the shade,\nand swoln with much unnecessary fat,[232] if he should see him panting\nfor breath and in agony,\u2014think you not, he will consider such persons to\ngrow rich to their own injury, and will say to his fellow, when meeting\nin private, that our rich men are good for nothing? Of course, I well\nknow, said he, that they do so. Well then, as a diseased body needs but\nthe smallest shock from without to give it pain, and is sometimes thrown\ninto disorder without any interference from without, so also the state\nthat resembles it will, on the smallest occasion from without, either\nwhen one party forms an alliance with an oligarchal, or the other with a\ndemocratic state, become disorded, and fight with itself, and also rise\nin revolt without any external interference. Yes, certainly. A democracy\nthen, I think, arises, when the poor prevailing over the rich, kill\nsome, and banish others, and share the state-offices and magistracies\nequally among the remainder; and for the most part the magistracies\ntherein are disposed of by lot. Aye, said he, this is the establishment\nof a democracy, whether it be effected through force of arms, or from\nthe withdrawal of the other party through fear.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 231:\n\n  The word \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03ae\u03c1 is here used to signify the principal sum (\u03c4\u1f78\n  \u03ba\u03b5\u03c6\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd), from which the interest (\u03c4\u03cc\u03ba\u03bf\u03b9 or \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f14\u03ba\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03b1) are derived.\n  Comp. b. vi. ch. 18, p. 196.\n\nFootnote 232:\n\n  Gr. \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03ba\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f30\u03c3\u03c7\u03bd\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u1f74\u03c1 \u03c0\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2, \u1f21\u03bb\u03b9\u03ce\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03b8\u03b5\u1f76\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd \u03bc\u03ac\u03c7\u1fc3 \u03c0\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u1ff3\n  \u1f10\u03c3\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03ae\u03ba\u03bf\u03c4\u03b9, \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c3\u03ac\u03c1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2, &c.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XI.\u2014In what way then, said I, do these live,\u2014and what will be the\ncharacter of this government;\u2014for it is plain, that a man of this kind\nwill appear democratic? It is plain, said he. First, then, are they not\nfree, and is not the state full of freedom of action, and speech, and\neach one at liberty to do what he pleases? So it is said, he replied.\nAnd where there is liberty, every one will evidently regulate his own\nplan of life just as he pleases? Plainly so. Under such a government\nespecially, methinks, men of all characters will spring up. Of course.\nThis, said I, seems likely to be the best of all governments;\u2014just as a\nvarious-coloured robe, embroidered with flowers of all kinds,\u2014so will\nthis appear best, variegated as it is with all sorts of manners. Of\ncourse, said he. And perhaps too, said I, the multitude will reckon this\nthe best, just as children and women looking at embroidered dresses.\nVery likely, said he. Aye, my excellent friend, here is a state in which\nwe may fitly look for a government. How so? Because it comprises all\nkinds of government on the score of its liberty; and it seems necessary\nfor one that desires to establish a state, as we are now doing, to come\nto any democratic state, the form of which he likes, as to a general\npolitical fair, and establish that which he has chosen. Aye, said he, he\nwould probably be in no want of models. Is not this, said I, a divine\nand pleasant kind of life for the present,\u2014that there be no need of\ngoverning in this state, even though you be able to do so,\u2014nor yet of\nbeing a subject, unless you please,\u2014nor of engaging in war because\nothers do,\u2014nor of keeping peace when others keep it, unless you desire\npeace;\u2014nor again, though there be a law that restrains you from\ngoverning or administering justice, yet you no less shall govern and\nadminister justice, if so disposed? It is likely, said he;\u2014in this\nparticular at least. But what; is not their lenience towards some of\nthose who are condemned very polite; and in such a government did you\nnever yet see its lenity towards men condemned to death or banishment,\nwho nevertheless remain there in open intercourse, the banished man,\ntoo, returning like a hero as if no one attended to or observed him?\nAye, many, he replied. But this indulgence of the state,\u2014not to mention\nthe small regard, and even contempt which it shows for all that we\ndeemed so important when settling our state, as that, unless a man had a\nmost exalted nature,[233] he would never become a good man, except he\nhad from childhood upwards delighted in noble actions, and diligently\nfollowed all such pursuits;\u2014how magnanimously does it despise and think\nas naught all these things, evincing an utter disregard as to the kind\nof pursuits from which a man comes to engage in politics, though it\nhonours him if he only declares himself well affected towards the\nmultitude? How very generous, he rejoined. These then, said I, and\nothers akin to these, are to be found in democracy; and it seems to be a\npleasant sort of government, both anarchical and variegated,\ndistributing a certain equality to all alike, both equals and unequals.\nAye, you say, he replied, what is perfectly well known.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 233:\n\n  Gr. \u1f51\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b2\u03b5\u03b2\u03bb\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd. Euripides uses a similar expression in the\n  Alcestis, v. 155:\u2014\u03c4\u03af \u03c7\u03c1\u1f74 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03ad\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f51\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b2\u03b5\u03b2\u03bb\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd\u2014\u03b3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u1fd6\u03ba\u03b1.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XII.\u2014Consider then, said I, what kind of man such an one is in\nprivate; or shall we first consider, as we did with respect to the\ngovernment, in what manner he is formed? Yes, said he. Is he not then\nformed in this manner,\u2014namely, from the parsimonious man who was under\nthe oligarchy,\u2014as a son, trained up under his father according to his\nhabits? Of course. Such an one forcibly governs his own pleasures,\u2014such\nas are expensive, but not tending to the acquisition of wealth, which\nare hence called unnecessary. It is plain, said he. That we may not\nargue in the dark then, said I, let us first, if you please, determine\nwhat desires are necessary, and what are not. Willingly, said he. May\nnot such be justly called necessary, which we cannot get rid of, and the\ngratification of which does us service? For both these kinds our nature\nmust necessarily seek after; must it not? Quite so. This then, we may\njustly say, is a necessary part to these desires? Justly. But what now?\nSuch desires as a man may relinquish, if he try to do so from his youth,\nand which while they remain, do no good, if we say of these that they\nare not necessary, shall we not say right? Right, indeed. Let us select\na pattern of each, that we may understand from example what they are.\nQuite right. Is not the desire of eating necessary so far as is\nconducive to health and a good habit of body, and the desire of food and\nvictuals? I think so. The desire of food, at least, is necessary on two\naccounts, as being advantageous in itself, and because the want of it\nmust bring life to an end.[234] It is. And the desire of victuals is\nlikewise necessary, as contributing towards a good habit of body.\nCertainly. But what?\u2014even such desire as goes beyond these things, or\nany other sorts of meats, and yet can be curbed from youth, and trained\nto abstain from most things, and which is hurtful both to body and soul\nas regards the attainment of wisdom and temperance, may not that be\nrightly called unnecessary? Most rightly, indeed. May we not say then\nthat these too are expensive, and the others frugal, as they conduce\ntowards the actions of life? Of course. We may speak in the same manner,\nsurely, of venereal, and the other desires? In the same manner. And did\nwe not, by him whom we just now called the drone, indicate a person full\nof such desires and pleasures, and governed by those that are\nunnecessary; but one governed by those merely necessary, a parsimonious\nman, and disposed to an oligarchy? Without doubt.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 234:\n\n  Gr. \u1f97 \u03c4\u03b5 \u1f60\u03c6\u03ad\u03bb\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c3\u1fd6\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f97 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b6\u1ff6\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b4\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03ae,\u2014i.e. if there be no\n  sufficient supply,\u2014the general meaning being, that the desire for food\n  is not only useful, but indispensable to the maintenance of life.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XIII.\u2014Let us again mention, said I, how the democratic man arises\nout of the oligarchic; and to me he appears to arise chiefly thus. How?\nWhen a young man brought up, as we now mentioned, without proper\ninstruction, and in niggard fashion, comes to taste the drones\u2019 honey,\nand associates with those fiery, terrible creatures who can procure all\nsorts and varieties of pleasures, and from every quarter;\u2014then you may\nconceive, he somehow begins to change the oligarchic for the democratic\ncharacter. It must be so, he observed. Well then, just as the state was\nchanged by the aid of another party from without to which it was\nrelated, is not the youth so changed likewise, through the aid of one\nspecies of desires from without, to others within him, which resemble\nthem and are allied thereto? By all means. And methinks, if any alliance\nshould come to counteract the oligarchic principle within him, either\nthrough his father or other relatives, admonishing and upbraiding him,\nthen truly will arise sedition, opposition, and an internal struggle\nagainst himself. Undoubtedly. And sometimes, indeed, I think the\ndemocratic yields to the oligarchic principle, and some of the desires\nare destroyed, while others retire, because a certain modesty is\nengendered in the youth\u2019s soul, and he is again restored to order. This\nis sometimes the case, said he. And again, I suppose, when some desires\nretire, others allied to them secretly grow up, which through neglect of\nparental instruction, become both many and powerful. This is usually the\ncase, said he. They draw them then towards the same intimacies as\nbefore, and through their connexions secretly generate a multitude? What\nelse? And in the end, I think, they seize the citadel of the youth\u2019s\nsoul, because they find it empty, as regards virtuous pursuits and true\nreasoning,\u2014the best guardians and preservers of the rational part of men\ndear to the gods. Just so, said he. And then, indeed false and arrogant\nreasonings and opinions rush up in their stead, and take their place in\nsuch people. Assuredly, said he. And does he not then come once more,\nand dwell openly among those Lotophagi?[235]\u2014And if any aid come from\nintimate friends to strengthen the parsimonious principle within him,\nthese said arrogant reasonings, by shutting against it the gates of the\nroyal wall, neither permit the alliance itself, nor allow the\nambassadorial admonitions of individual old men, but struggle against\nthem and maintain themselves in power;\u2014and as for modesty, they call it\nstupidity, and thrust it out into disgraceful exile, while temperance\nthey call unmanliness, load it with abuse, and then expel it;\u2014and as for\nmoderation and decent expense, they persuade themselves that they are\nnothing else but rusticity and illiberality, and banish them from their\nterritories, with many other unprofitable desires. Assuredly, they do.\nHaving emptied and purified from all these desires, the soul, thus held\nby them, and initiated in the great mysteries,[236] they next introduce\nwith encomiums and false eulogies, indolence and anarchy, extravagance\nand shamelessness, shining with a great retinue, and wearing\ncrowns,\u2014calling insolence, good-breeding,\u2014anarchy, liberty,\u2014luxury,\nmagnificence,\u2014and impudence, manliness. Is it not, said I, somehow\nthus,\u2014that a youth, after being bred up with necessary desires falls\naway into the license and dissoluteness induced by needless and\nunprofitable pleasures? Yes, plainly so, he replied. Such an one, then,\nmethinks, thenceforth passes his life, spending his property, labour,\nand time as much on necessary as unnecessary pleasures, but if he be\nfortunate and not unusually excited by passion, he, as he advances in\nyears, and the sovereignty of the passions is subdued, re-admits part of\nthose expelled, and does not deliver himself wholly up to mere\nintruders, but regulates his pleasures on the principle of equality, and\nso lives, giving himself up to each incidental desire that happens to\nrule him, till he is sated,\u2014and then another, undervaluing none, but\nindulging all alike. Quite so, of course. And yet such an one, said I,\nwill not listen to true reasoning, nor admit it into his\nstronghold,\u2014should he be told that some pleasures are attached to\nhonourable and virtuous desires, others to those that are depraved, and\nthat he should pursue and honour the former, but chastise and hold\ncaptive the latter,\u2014but in all these cases will dissent, and say that\nthey are all alike, and to be held in equal honour. Assuredly, said he,\none thus affected, does this. Well then, said I, thus does he daily\nlive, gratifying every incidental desire, sometimes getting drunk to the\nsound of the flute, at others temperately drinking water,\u2014at others,\nagain exercising gymnastics; sometimes indolent and wholly careless;\nthen again applying, as it were, to philosophy,\u2014often too acting the\npolitician, saying and doing by skips and jumps whatever comes\nfirst:\u2014and if he would imitate any of the military tribe, thither he is\ncarried; if the mercantile, then again thither; nor is his life\nregulated by any plan or law, but, deeming this particular life\npleasant, and free, and blessed, he follows it throughout. You have most\nfully described, said he, the life of the man who places all laws on a\nlevel. I at least am of opinion, said I, that he is multiform, and\nfilled with different habits; like the state, too, he is handsome and of\nvaried complexion, a man whose life many men and women would emulate,\nbecause he contains within himself numerous patterns both of forms of\ngovernment and moral habits. He does, said he. What then? Have we then\nso described and arranged such an one on the principles of democracy, as\nthat he may be truly called one of democratic character. We will allow\nthat it has, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 235:\n\n  These Lotophagi are described by Homer, Odyss. ix. 94, &c.\n\nFootnote 236:\n\n  Allusion is here made to the Eleusinian mysteries, which after certain\n  lustrations and sacrifices, were successively communicated to those in\n  course of initiation,\u2014first, the lesser mysteries (\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u1f70 \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b7), and\n  six months subsequently, the greater (\u03c4\u1f70 \u03bc\u03b5\u03b3\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1 \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b7).\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XIV.[237]\u2014It still remains, however, that we discuss, said I, that\nmost excellent form of government and that most excellent man,\u2014tyranny\nand the tyrant. Surely, said he. Come then, my dear fellow;\u2014what is the\nmanner in which tyranny arises?\u2014for it is almost plain, that it is a\nchange from democracy. Plain. Does not tyranny arise in the same manner\nfrom democracy, as democracy does from oligarchy? How\u2014as respects the\ngood then, which oligarchy proposed to itself, and according to which it\nwas constituted; was it not with a view of becoming extremely rich? Yes.\nAn insatiable desire then for riches, and a neglect of all besides,\nthrough attention to the acquisition of wealth, destroys it. True, said\nhe. And with reference to what democracy denominates good, an insatiable\nthirst for it destroys it likewise? But what say you, it denominates as\ngood? Liberty, said I:\u2014for this, you are told, is best found in a state\nunder democratic rule, and hence any one naturally free would choose to\ndwell in this alone. This word liberty, said he, is vastly much talked\nabout. Well then, observed I, as I was just going to say, does not the\ninsatiable desire for this, and the neglect of other things, change even\nthe form of government, and prepare it to need a tyrant? How? said he.\nWhen a state, said I, is under democratic rule, thirsts after liberty,\nand happens to have bad cupbearers appointed it, and gets immoderately\ndrunk with an unmixed draught thereof, it punishes even the governors,\nunless they be quite tame-spirited, and allow them excessive liberty, by\naccusing them of being corrupt and oligarchical. They do so, said he.\nBut such as obey the magistrates, said I, it abuses as willing and\ngood-for-nothing slaves; both publicly and in private they commending\nand honouring magistrates who resemble subjects, and subjects who\nresemble magistrates: must it not happen in such a state, that we must\nnecessarily arrive at the acme of liberty? Of course. And must it not\ndescend, too, my friend, said I, into private families, and at last\nreach even the brutes? How, said he, can we assert aught like this? For\ninstance, said I, when a father gets used to become like his child, and\nfears his sons, and the son [in like manner] his father, and has neither\nrespect nor fear of his parents, in order, forsooth, that he may be\nfree;\u2014and thus a mere resident is placed on a level with a citizen, and\na resident with a stranger, and so likewise a foreigner. Just so, said\nhe. Aye, these indeed happen, said I, and other similar little things\nalso:\u2014and in such cases a teacher fears and flatters his scholars, and\nthe scholars despise their teachers, and so also their tutors; and on\nthe whole the youths resemble those more advanced in years, and rival\nthem both in speech and action: while the old men sit down with the\nyoung, and imitate them in their love of merriment and pleasantry, for\nfear of appearing morose and despotic. Quite so, of course, replied he.\nBut as to this extreme liberty of the multitude, said I, what a height\nit attains in a state like this, where purchased slaves, male or female,\nare no less free than their purchasers, and how much equality and\nliberty wives enjoy with their husbands, and husbands with their\nwives,\u2014this we have almost forgotten to mention. Are we not then to say,\naccording to \u00c6schylus, he observed, whatever now comes into our mouth?\nBy all means, said I; and accordingly I thus speak:\u2014with reference even\nto brutes, such as are under the care of men, how much more free they\nare in such a state; he who has no experience thereof will not easily\nbelieve\u2014for according to the proverb, even dogs resemble their\nmistresses;[238] and horses and asses are used to run about at large,\nsurlily driving against whomsoever they meet, unless they get out of\ntheir way; and many other such-like things happen, that indicate an\nabundance of liberty. You are just telling me my dream, said he, for\nthis has often happened to me when going into the country. But do you\nobserve, said I, when all these things are collected together in a\nwhole, that they make the soul of the citizens so sensitive, that if\nthey were any how to be brought into slavery, they would be indignant\nand not endure it;\u2014for in the end, you know, they regard laws neither\nwritten nor unwritten, and hence no one will by any means become their\nmaster? I know it well, said he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 237:\n\n  A large portion of this and the following chapter will be found\n  rendered into Latin in Cicero de Republ. i. ch. 43, 44.\n\nFootnote 238:\n\n  The proverb here alluded to runs thus, according to the\n  scholiast:\u2014\u03bf\u1f31\u03ac\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u1f21 \u03b4\u03ad\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1, \u03c4\u03bf\u03af\u03b1 \u03c7\u1f01 \u03ba\u03cd\u03c9\u03bd. The adage from \u00c6schylus,\n  somewhat above, is of an origin equally unknown.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XV.\u2014This then, said I, my friend, I suppose, is that government so\nbeautiful and youthful, whence tyranny springs. Youthful, indeed, he\nreplied; but what then? The same malady, said I, that existed in an\noligarchy, destroys this form likewise; rising also to a higher pitch of\npower, and enslaving the democracy by its very licentiousness; for, in\nfact, the doing of anything to excess usually causes great change in an\nopposite direction: and so it is in the seasons, as in vegetable and\nanimal bodies, and so also not least of all in forms of government.\nProbably so, said he. Aye, for excessive liberty seems only to\ndegenerate into excessive slavery, either in private individuals or\nstates. It is probable, indeed. Probably then, said I, tyranny is\nestablished out of no other form than democracy;\u2014out of the highest\ndegree of liberty, methinks, the greatest and fiercest slavery. Yes, it\nis reasonable, said he. This, however, methinks, said I, was not what\nyou asked:\u2014but what is that same disease which arises in an oligarchy\nand a democracy, and reduces each to slavery? Your remark is true,\nreplied he. I meant, said I, that there was a race of idle and profuse\nmen, the bravest of whom were the leaders, and the more cowardly their\nfollowers, whom indeed we compared to drones; some to those with stings,\nothers to those without stings. Rightly too, said he. These two now,\nsaid I, when they spring up in a government, disturb it, just like\nphlegm and bile in a natural body,\u2014and against these it is the duty of a\nwise physician and lawgiver of a state, no less than of a wise\nbee-master, to take much fore-caution,\u2014first, that they never gain\nadmittance;\u2014and if they should enter, that they be as soon as possible\ncut off, with their cells as well. Yes, by Zeus, said he; altogether so.\n\nCHAP. XVI.\u2014Let us thus then conceive the matter, said I, that we may\nmore distinctly see what we want. How? Let us ideally divide a\ndemocratic state into three parts, as it in fact is; for some such\nclassification is natural to it, owing to its liberty, no less than to\nan oligarchy. It is so. Yet it is much more fierce at least in this than\nin the former. How? In an oligarchy, from not being held in honour, but\nexcluded from the magisterial office, it is unexercised and gains no\nstrength;\u2014but in a democracy it is, with a few exceptions, the presiding\nparty, the fiercest of them ever talking and agitating, while the rest\nbustle about at the law-courts, and cannot endure any one else to speak\ndifferently from itself; and thus all things, with only a few\nexceptions, under such a government, are managed by a party. Very much\nthe case, said he. Some other party, then, is always separated from the\nmultitude. Which? While the general body are engaged in the pursuit of\ngain, such as are naturally the most temperate generally become the\nwealthiest. Very probably. And hence is it, methinks, that the greatest\nquantity of honey, and what comes with the greatest ease, is pressed out\nof these by the drones. Yes,\u2014for how, said he, can any one press it from\nthose who have but little? Such wealthy people, I think, are called the\npasture of the drones. Nearly so, replied he. And the people will be a\nsort of third species,\u2014such as mind their own affairs, without meddling\nwith others, who have little property, but are yet the most numerous,\nand most prevailing in a democracy, whenever it is densely populated. It\nis so; but this it will not often consent to do without getting some\nshare of the honey. This class, of course, always obtains a share, said\nI, as far as their leaders are able, by robbing those that have\nproperty, and giving it to the people, in order that they may eat most\nthemselves. Aye, said he, that is the way in which these become sharers.\nThese, then, are obliged to defend themselves. Those thus despoiled are\ncompelled to defend themselves, saying and doing all they can among the\npeople. Of course. And though they have no inclination to introduce a\nchange of government, they are charged with forming plots and plans\nagainst the common people, and being oligarchally disposed. What next?\nAfter seeing that the people, not willingly, but through ignorance and\nthe impositions of these slanderers, attempt to injure them, do they not\nthen, indeed, even against their wills, become truly oligarchic?\u2014though\nnot spontaneously, for this very mischief is generated by the drone that\nstings them. Quite so. And so they lay informations, make lawsuits, and\nhave contests one with another. Very much so. And are not the people\nalways used to place some one in special presidency over themselves, and\nto cherish him, and promote him to great power? They are. And this, said\nI, is plain, that whenever a tyrant rises, it is from the fact of thus\npresiding, and nothing else, that he flourishes. This is very clear.\nHow, then, begins the change from a president into a tyrant?\u2014is it not\nclearly when the president begins to do the same as is told in the\nfable, about the temple of the Lycean Zeus, to whom the wolf was\ndedicated in Arcadia? What is that? said he. That whoever tastes human\nentrails mixed with those of other offerings, must necessarily become a\nwolf:\u2014have you not heard the story? I have. Well, then, supposing him to\nbe thus the president of the people, and having to deal with an\nextremely compliant multitude, he should not refrain from shedding even\nkindred blood, but by unjust charges, as usual, should bring men into\nthe law-courts and murder them, as if he set no value on human life,\nand, tasting with unholy month and tongue even the blood of relations,\nshould banish men and slay them, proposing the abolition of debts and\nfresh division of lands,\u2014must not such an one of necessity, and by\ndestiny, be either destroyed by his enemies, or else act the tyrant, and\nfrom a man, become a wolf? Of great necessity, said he. This then, is\nhe, said I\u2014the same who rises in sedition against those who have\nproperty. Yes. And when he has been banished and returns against the\nwill of his adversaries, he comes back, of course, an accomplished\ntyrant. It is plain. And if they cannot expel him, or put him to death\non a state accusation, then they conspire to cut him off privately by a\nviolent death. It usually so happens, he observed. And besides this, all\nwho have advanced to this station invent _this_ much-vaunted tyrannical\ndemand, asking the people for certain body-guards, that the people\u2019s aid\nmay be secured them. Of this, said he, they take special care. And\nmethinks they grant them this through fear of his safety, though secure\nas to their own. Quite so. And when a man observes this, who has\nproperty, and who, besides that, is further charged with hating the\npeople,\u2014he then, my friend, according to the answer of the oracle to\nCr\u0153sus,\n\n               ... To pebble-bedded Hermus flies,\n               Nor waits the brand of cowardice;[239]...\n\nbecause he would not, said he, be a second time in fear. But surely,\nsaid I, he at least, methinks, that is caught, is put to death. Of\nnecessity so. It is plain, then, that this president of our state does\nnot like a noble person, nobly lie,[240] but, after hurling down many\nothers, sits in his chair of office, a consummate tyrant of the\nstate,\u2014and not a president. Of course, he is likely to be so, rejoined\nhe.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 239:\n\n  The same oracular legend occurs in Herodotus, Clio, ch. 55.\n\nFootnote 240:\n\n  Comp. Hom. Il. xvi. 776; Odyss. xxiv. 39.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XVII.\u2014Shall we then examine the happiness both of the man and the\nstate, in which such a mortal as this is engendered? Let us do so by all\nmeans, said he. Does he not, then, said I, in the first days, and for a\nbrief season, smile and salute every one he meets, and asserting himself\nto be no tyrant, and promise many things, both in public and private,\nand liberate men from debts, and distribute land both to the public and\nthose about him, and affect to be mild and liberal towards all? He must,\nreplied he. But, methinks, when he becomes reconciled to some of his\nforeign enemies, and has destroyed others, and there is quiet respecting\nthese, he first of all is ever exciting wars, that the people may be in\nneed of a leader. Aye, that is likely. Is it not also then, that, being\nrendered poor by contributing to the public treasury, they may be\ncompelled to be anxious for daily sustenance, and so less readily\nconspire against him? Plainly so. And methinks, if he suspects that any\nof a free spirit will not allow him to govern,\u2014in order that he may have\nsome pretext for destroying them, he exposes them to the enemy; for all\nthese reasons a tyrant must necessarily be always raising war.\nNecessarily so. And, while he is doing these things, he will necessarily\nbecome more hateful to the citizens. Of course. And, therefore, some of\nthose who have been promoted along with him and are in power, use great\nplainness of speech, towards him and among themselves, finding fault\nwith what is done,\u2014such at least, as are of a more manly spirit. Aye,\nprobably so. The tyrant, therefore, if he means to govern, must cut off\nall these, till he leave no one, either friend or foe, worth anything.\nIt is plain. He must carefully notice them,\u2014who is courageous, who is\nmagnanimous, who wise, who rich; and in this manner is he happy, that,\nwilling or unwilling, he is under a necessity of being an enemy to all\nlike these; and to form plots against them, till he has purged the\nstate. A fine purging indeed! said he. Yes, said I, the reverse of what\nthe physicians do with regard to animal bodies; for they take away the\nworst and leave the best; but he does the contrary. Because it seems,\nsaid he, if he is to govern, he must necessarily do so.\n\nCHAP. XVIII.\u2014By a blessed necessity, then truly, is he bound, said I;\nwhich compels him either to live with a depraved multitude,\u2014hated by\nthem too, or not live at all. In such necessity he is, he replied. And\nthe more he is hated by the citizens whilst he does these things, will\nhe not so much the more require a greater number of guards, and those\nmore faithful? It is impossible he should not. Who then are the\nfaithful, and whence shall he procure them? Many, said he, will come\nflying to him of their own accord, if he give them pay. By the dog, said\nI, you seem again to be talking of certain drones, both foreign and\nmultiform. Aye, you think right, replied he. But those of the state\nitself,\u2014would he not desire to have them also as guards? How? After he\nhas taken away the slaves from the citizens, would he not give them\ntheir liberty, and make of them guards about his person? By all means,\nsaid he; for these are the most faithful to him. What a blessed\npossession of the tyrants, said I, is this which you mention, if he\nemploy such friends and faithful men, after having destroyed the former\nones! But at any rate, said he, such he surely does employ. And then his\ncompanions, said I, admire him, and the young citizens flock around him:\nbut those that are respectable men both hate and fly from him. Of course\nthey would. It is not without reason, then, said I, that tragedy is\ngenerally thought a wise thing, and that Euripides is thought to excel\nin it. Why? Because he uttered this, the result of deep reflection, that\ntyrants are wise, by intercourse with the wise;\u2014and he plainly said,\nthose were wise with whom they hold converse. And he commends tyranny\ntoo, said he, as some divine thing, and says a great deal else about it,\nas do the other poets. Those composers then of tragedy, said I, as they\nare wise, will forgive both ourselves and others who establish\ngovernments analogous to our own, for not admitting them into our\nrepublic, as being panegyrists of tyranny. Methinks, said he, such of\nthem, at least, as are well mannered, will forgive us. But they will go\nabout through other states, methinks, drawing together the crowds, and\nput to sale their fine, magnificent, and persuasive words, and so draw\nover governments to tyrannies and democracies. Just so. And do they not\nfurther receive rewards and are specially honoured, first by tyrants, as\nis natural, and next by a democracy; but the higher they advance in the\nforms of government, the more does honour forsake them, disabled as it\nwere by an asthma from pursuing its progress. Entirely so.\n\nCHAP. XIX.\u2014Thus far, said I, have we digressed: and now let us go back\nand talk about the army of the tyrant, beautiful as it is numerous,\nmultiform, and ever the same,\u2014how it is to be maintained. It is plain,\nsaid he, that whatever sacred things there be in the state, these they\nwill despoil, and make the sale-proceeds therefrom to be such from time\nto time as to cause the commons to pay lighter taxes. But when these\nfail, what will they do? It is plain, said he, that he and his\nboon-companions, and associates, male and female, will be maintained out\nof his paternal inheritance. I understand, said I:\u2014the party that made\nthe tyrant is to maintain him and his companions. Surely it must be so,\nreplied he. How, say you? replied I:\u2014if the people were to be enraged,\nand say, that it is not just for a son arrived at mature age to be\nmaintained by the father, but on the contrary, the father by the son,\nand that he did not beget and bring him up for this purpose, to be\nhimself a slave to his slaves after they have grown up, and to maintain\nhim and his slaves with the rest of the riotous crew,[241]\u2014but rather\nthat under his auspices he might be liberated from the rich in the the\nstate, [who are also called the good and worthy]:\u2014and now he orders him\nand his companions to leave the state as a father drives from home his\nson and his rackety boon-fellows. By Zeus, then, the people, said he,\nsuch as they are, will know what sort of a creature they have begotten,\nembraced, and nurtured, and that being themselves the weaker party, they\nare still trying to drive out the stronger. How say you, replied I;\u2014will\nthe tyrant dare to offer violence to his father, and actually strike him\nif he will not yield? Yes, said he, for he has stripped him of his\narmour. The tyrant, said I, you call a parricide and a hard-hearted\nnourisher of old age; and this, as it seems, would be an acknowledged\ntyranny; and, as the saying is,\u2014the common people, flying from the smoke\nof slavery among freemen, have fallen into the slavish fire of\ndespotism, and instead of excessive and unreasonable liberty, they\nembrace the most rigorous and bitterest captivity of actual slaves.\nAye,\u2014this is very much the case, rejoined he. What then, said I, may it\nnot be concluded with due consideration, that we have shown in\nsufficient detail how tyranny arises out of democracy, and its nature\nalso, when it does arise? Quite sufficiently, of course, replied he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 241:\n\n  Gr. \u03be\u03c5\u03b3\u03ba\u03bb\u03cd\u03b4\u03c9\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd. The word \u03be\u03cd\u03b3\u03ba\u03bb\u03c5\u03c2 means the vilest and most\n  worthless scum of the people. Comp. Thucyd. vii. 5, where it is used\n  in the same sense.\n\n-----\n\n                      THE END OF THE EIGHTH BOOK.\n\n\n                                BOOK IX.\n\n                               ARGUMENT.\n\nIn the _ninth book_ the discussion of tyranny is concluded with a view\n    of its origin and nature in the individual man, who, when thus\n    affected, is given up to all kinds of disordered passions that\n    effectually exclude him from all chance of happiness. Hence is it,\n    that, as good and healthy monarchical government is pre-eminently\n    conducive to the highest happiness of the citizens,\u2014so also tyranny\n    is unfailingly productive of the most intense and general misery.\n    This is proved also from an analysis of the mental faculties, and a\n    pretty full account is here given of the desires, pleasures, and\n    indulgences by which they are affected, and which must be kept in\n    constant subjection by the dominance of reason.\n\nCHAP. I.\u2014We have yet, said I, to consider the tyrannical man himself,\nhow he arises out of the democratic,\u2014and, when he does arise, what is\nhis nature, and what kind of life he leads, whether wretched or happy.\nYes, we have, said he. Know you, said I, what I still want? What? We do\nnot seem to have sufficiently distinguished as regards the desires; what\nis their nature and amount; and how many; and while there is any defect\nin this, the inquiry we make will not be very clear. Is it not good time\nfor that yet? I wish to know about them;\u2014for it is this. Of pleasures\nand desires that are not necessary, some seem to me contrary to\nlaw,\u2014which indeed seem engendered in all men:\u2014though owing to the\ncorrection of the laws, and of improved desires aided by reason, they\neither forsake some men altogether, or are less numerous and feeble,\nwhile in others they are more powerful and more numerous. Will you\ninform me what these are? said he. Such, said I, as are excited in\nsleep, when the rest of the soul\u2014which is rational, mild, and its\ngoverning principle, is asleep, and when that part which is savage and\nrude, being sated with food and drink, frisks about, drives away sleep,\nand seeks to go and accomplish its practices;\u2014in such an one, you know,\nit dares to do everything, because it is loosed and disengaged from all\nmodesty and prudence: for, if it pleases, it scruples not at the\nembraces, even of a mother, or any one else, whether gods, men, or\nbeasts; nor to commit murder, nor abstain from any sort of meat,\u2014and in\none word, it is wanting neither in folly nor shamelessness. You speak\nmost truly, replied he. But when a man is in good health, methinks, and\nlives temperately, and goes to sleep, after exciting his reason, and\nfeasting it with noble reasonings and investigations, having thus\nattained to an internal harmony, and given up the appetites neither to\nwant nor repletion, that they may be at rest, and not disturb that part\nwhich is best, either by joy or grief, but suffer it by itself alone\nwithout interruption to inquire and long to apprehend what it knows\nnot,\u2014either something of what has existed, or now exists, or will exist\nhereafter; and so also, having soothed the spirited part of the soul,\nand not allowed it to be hurried into transports of anger, or to fall\nasleep with agitated passion;\u2014but after having quieted these two parts\nof the soul, and roused to action that third part, in which wisdom\ndwells, he will thus take his rest;\u2014you know, that by such an one the\ntruth is best apprehended, and the visions of his dreams are then least\nof all portrayed contrary to the law. I am quite of this opinion, said\nhe. We have digressed indeed a little too far in talking of these\nthings;\u2014but what we want to be known is this, that in every one resides\na certain species of desires that are terrible, savage, and irregular,\neven in some that we deem ever so moderate:\u2014and this indeed becomes\nmanifest in sleep.\u2014Now consider, if I seem to be speaking to the\npurpose, and whether you agree with me. Aye, indeed, do.\n\nCHAP. II.\u2014As for the people\u2019s man then, recollect how we described him,\nas being brought up somehow from infancy under a parsimonious father,\nwho valued avaricious desires only; and despised all such as were\nunnecessary, arising only out of a love of amusement and finery.[242]\nWas he not? Yes. But getting acquainted with the more refined, who are\nfull of the desires just mentioned, running into all sorts of insolence,\nand imbibing their manners through detestation of his father\u2019s\nparsimony;\u2014and yet having a better natural temper than his corrupters,\nand being drawn opposite ways, he at length settles down into a mode of\nlife equi-distant from either, and so in his opinion, participating\nmoderately of each, leads a life neither illiberal nor lawless, after\nhaving thus become a democrat instead of an oligarchist. Yes,\u2014this, said\nhe, was and is our opinion of such an one. Suppose now again, that, when\nsuch an one has become old, he has a young son educated according to his\nown habits. I suppose it. And suppose, too, that the same happens to him\nas to his father;\u2014that he is drawn into all lawlessness, which his\nseducers call all freedom; and that his father and his domestics are\naiding those intermediate desires;\u2014and that others also lend their\nassistance (when these clever conjurers and tyrant-makers have no hopes\nof otherwise keeping youth in their power), and so contrive to excite in\nhim a certain love which is to preside over the passive desires, which\ndistribute what may be at hand to all the rest,\u2014a certain large-winged\ndrone;[243]\u2014or what else think you, is that kind of love? For my part,\nsaid he, I think, it is no other than this. Well,\u2014when the rest of the\ndesires buzz about him, full of their odours and perfumes, and crowns\nand wines, and the dissolute pleasures belonging to such\nassociations,\u2014and at last by their increase and nurture, add to the\ndrone a sting of desire, then truly he is sentinelled by madness as a\nlife-guard, and this president of the soul becomes frenzied; and even\nshould he find in himself any opinions or desires which are deemed good\nand modest, he kills them and pushes them from him, till he has ridded\nhimself of temperance and has become brimful of madness. You perfectly\ndescribe, said he, the formation of a tyrannical man. Is it not for some\nsuch reason as this, said I, that love has of old been said to be a\ntyrant? It seems so, replied he. Well, my friend, said I, and is not a\ndrunken man likewise somewhat of a tyrannical spirit? He is indeed. And\nbesides that, he that is mad and disturbed in his mind, undertakes and\nhopes to be able to govern not only men, but the gods as well. Entirely\nso, said he. The tyrannical character then, happy man! becomes so in\nfull perfection, when either by temper or pursuits, or both, he becomes\ndrunken and given up to love and melancholy. Perfectly so, indeed.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 242:\n\n  This refers to the description of the \u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03c2 in book viii. ch.\n  12.\n\nFootnote 243:\n\n  Gr. \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f00\u03c1\u03b3\u1ff6\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f15\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03bc\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03b9\u1ff6\u03bd,\n  \u1f51\u03c0\u03cc\u03c0\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd \u03ba\u03b7\u03c6\u1fc6\u03bd\u03ac \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1. This is perhaps the best\n  rendering;\u2014but the passage is somewhat obscure.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. III.\u2014Such an one, it seems, then, is thus engendered,\u2014but how does\nhe pass his life?\u2014Just as they say in their games, replied he;\u2014\u201cthis you\nshall tell me too.\u201d I will tell you then, said I;\u2014for I think, that in\nthe next place, they have feastings and revellings and banquetings and\nmistresses, and all such things as may be expected among those with whom\ndwells the tyrant love, and governing all in the soul. Necessarily so,\nsaid he. Will there not then, each day and night, blossom forth numerous\nfierce desires, eagerly in want of many things? Many indeed. And if they\nget any supplies [of their wishes,] these are soon spent? Of course. And\nafter this there are borrowings and forfeitures of property?[244] Of\ncourse. And when everything fails them, must it not follow, that while\nthe numerous and powerful desires nestled in the mind, will on the one\nhand raise a clamour, the men, on the other hand, who are driven and\ngoaded by the rest of the passions, but especially by love itself, which\ncommands all the others as its life-guards, will rage with phrensy, and\nseek after people\u2019s property, to see if they can plunder it either by\nfraud or violence? Quite so, said he. Of necessity, then, they must\neither plunder from all quarters, or else be hampered with great pain\nand anguish. Necessarily so. And as in such a man his new pleasures are\ngreater than those he had before, and depreciate the value of the\nothers, will he not similarly deem it right for himself, however young,\nto have more than his father and mother, and to take away from them,\nwhen he has spent his own portion, applying to his own use what belongs\nto his parents? Of course he will, replied he. And if they will not give\nit up to him, will he not at first try to pilfer or defraud his parents?\nBy all means. And should he be unable to do this, he will next use\nrapine and violence? I think so, replied he. But supposing, my fine\nfellow, that the old man and woman fall out and fight, will he not be\nvery cautious and wary of doing what is tyrannical? I, for my part, said\nhe, am not quite sure about the safety of such a person\u2019s parents. But\nby Zeus, Adimantus, think you, that for the sake of a newly beloved and\nunnecessary mistress, such a person would abandon his long loved and\nclosely connected mother; or for the sake of a youth newly loved and\nwith whom he has no ties, give up to stripes his withered but\ntime-honoured father, and the most ancient of all his friends, suffering\nthem to be the slaves of these others, by bringing them into the same\nhouse? Yes, by Zeus, I do, said he. It seems indeed, said I, a vastly\nblessed thing to be the father of a tyrannical son! Not at all so, said\nhe. But what, when the father and mother\u2019s riches are beginning to fail\nsuch an one, and when the great swarm of pleasures has been already\ncollected within him, will he not be the first to scale the wall of some\nhouse, or strip some one of his coat late at night, and after that rifle\nsome temple?\u2014And in all these acts, as respects the opinions which he\nformerly held from boyhood, and which guided his decisions concerning\ngood and evil, the passions, that are newly loosed from slavery and\nplaced as the body-guards of Love, will prevail therewith;\u2014and these\nindeed had only just been loosed from their dreamy sleep, when he was\nhimself still under the law and governed by his father, as under a\ndemocracy:\u2014yet afterwards, when tyrannized over by love, such as he\nrarely was when in his dreams, he will ever be when awake, nor will he\nabstain from slaughter, however horrid, or food, or any deed\nwhatever:\u2014but that tyrant love within him, living without restraint of\nlaw or government, as if it were sole monarch, will lead on the man it\npossesses, as it would a state, to every act of madness, whereby he can\nsupport himself and the mob of passions about him, which partly entering\nfrom without, through evil company, and partly through the manners of\nthe man and his associates, have been unchained and set at liberty: now\nis not this the life of such an one? It is this truly, said he. And if,\nsaid I, there be, only a few such in the state, and the rest of the\npeople are sober, they go out and serve as guards to other tyrants, or\nassist them for hire in case of war: but remain at home during peace and\nquiet, giving rise in the state to a great many minor evils. What mean\nyou? Such as these: they steal, break open houses, cut purses, strip\npeople of their clothes, rifle temples, make people slaves, and, where\nthey can speak, sometimes turn false informers, give false testimony,\nand take bribes.[245] These then you call minor mischiefs, said he,\u2014if\nthere be but a few such persons. What is small, said I, is small in\ncomparison to the great; and all these things with regard to the tyrant,\nwhen compared with the wickedness and misery of the state, do not, as\nthe saying is, come near the mark; for when the state has many such, and\nothers for their companions, and when they perceive their own number,\nthen these are the persons who, led by the people\u2019s folly, elevate to\nthe tyranny the man among them who has within his soul most of the\ntyrant, and in the greatest strength. Probably so, indeed, said he; for\nhe will be most suited for a tyrant. Of course, if they voluntarily\nsubmit to him:\u2014but if the state will not allow him to use the violence\ntowards them, with which he formerly treated his father and mother, so\nhe will now again, if he can, chastise his country by bringing in his\nyouthful associates, and enslaving under them, as the Cretans say, his\nonce dear mother-land and father-land:\u2014and this will of course be the\nissue of such a man\u2019s desire. Entirely so, said he. Do not these then\nbehave thus in private life, said I;\u2014even before becoming rulers; first\nwith the company they keep, either associating with their own flatterers\nand those who are ready to supply their every want; or if they ask one\nfor anything, falling down as suppliants, and deigning to assume the\ndisguise of friends; but after they have gained their own purposes,\nacting as foes? Quite so. Throughout life then they live as real friends\nto no one whatever, but always either as masters or slaves to\nanother;\u2014because for liberty and true friendship the tyrant\u2019s nature has\nno relish whatever. Quite so. May we not rightly call these men\nfaithless? Of course. And as unjust, moreover, as they possibly can be,\nif indeed we, in what we said before were rightly agreed as to the\nnature of justice? Aye, we were quite right, said he. Let us then give a\nsummary account, said I, of this worst man of ours; he is the same kind\nof person, awake perhaps, whom we just described as asleep. Entirely so.\nAnd does not that man become such, who with a tyrannical nature holds\nthe sovereign sway, and the longer he lives in tyrant-life become so\nmore and more? Necessarily so, replied Glaucon, taking up the discourse.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 244:\n\n  Gr. \u03b4\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f50\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03ad\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, lit. _the borrowing of money\n  on usury, and the seizure of property for non-payment_.\n\nFootnote 245:\n\n  These grave crimes are almost similarly enumerated in the Gorgias, p.\n  508 e, and also by Xenophon, Mem. i. ch. 2, s. 62.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. IV.\u2014And will not the man, said I, who appears the most wicked,\nappear likewise the most wretched; and will not he who holds the tyranny\nlongest and exercises it most, be really such in the greatest measure\nand for the longest time?\u2014but many as are men, so many are their minds.\nOf necessity, said he, these things must be so. And would not the tyrant\nman, said I, as closely resemble a state under tyranny, as the\ndemocratic man resembles the state under democracy, and so likewise as\nrespects the others? Of course. As state then is to state with regard to\nvirtue and happiness, so surely will man be to man likewise? Of course.\nWhat then is the state governed by a tyrant as compared with one under a\nkingly government,\u2014such as we first described? The exact contrary, said\nhe; for the one is best, and the other the worst. I will not ask, said\nI, which you mean, for that is plain; but do you judge is it thus or\notherwise, that you judge of their happiness and misery?\u2014and let us not\nbe struck with admiration when considering the tyrant himself, or the\nfew about him; but let us, as we ought, enter into the whole state, and\ndeclare our opinion, after going through and viewing every part. You\npropose what is right, said he:\u2014and it is clear to all that no state is\nmore wretched than one under tyranny, and none more happy than that\nunder regal power. Well then, said I, in proposing these same things\nwith respect to individual men, should I rightly propose, if I accounted\nthat man a suitable judge of them, who can by intellectual power\npenetrate into and inspect a man\u2019s disposition, and is not, as a child\nlooking at exteriors, astounded by the pomp, which tyrants exhibit to\nthose without, but has the power of looking properly through him? If\nthen I thought that we should all listen to the man, who from having\ndwelt with him in the same house, and been joined in his family\ntransactions, is able to judge how he behaves to each of his domestics,\n[in which most especially a man appears stripped of his actor\u2019s finery,]\nand so also in public dangers; and if when he has observed all this, I\nwere to bid him declare how the tyrant stands, as regards happiness and\nmisery, in comparison with others.[246] You would be quite right in\nproposing this, observed he. Are you willing then, said I, that we\nshould set up to be of the number of those who are able to judge, and\nwho have already fallen in with such characters, so that we may have\nsome one to answer our questions? By all means.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 246:\n\n  Euripides, Jon. v. 621-4, has a similar sentiment beautifully\n  expressed:\u2014\n\n                  \u03c4\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03bd\u03af\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03b1\u1f30\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2\n                  \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03c3\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd \u1f21\u03b4\u1f7a \u03c4\u1f00\u03bd \u03b4\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9 \u03b4\u1f72\n                  \u03bb\u03c5\u03c0\u03b7\u03c1\u03ac\u00b7 \u03c4\u03af\u03c2 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03af\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f50\u03c4\u03c5\u03c7\u03ae\u03c2,\n                  \u1f45\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b5\u03b4\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u1f7c\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03b2\u03bb\u03ad\u03c0\u03c9\u03bd \u03b2\u03af\u03b1\u03bd\n                  \u03b1\u1f30\u1ff6\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9;\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. V.\u2014Come then, said I, thus consider it:\u2014call to mind the mutual\nresemblance of the state and individual man; and thus, considering each\nby turns, describe to us the passions of each. What passions? said he.\nTo begin first, said I, with the state;\u2014do you call the one under\ntyranny, free or enslaved? Enslaved, said he, in the greatest degree\npossible. And moreover, you see in it some who are masters and freemen?\nI see some indeed, said he, but exceedingly few:\u2014but the greatest and\nbest part therein generally is shamefully and wretchedly enslaved. If\nthen, said I, the individual man resembles the state, will he not\nnecessarily be placed under like circumstances, and his soul be filled\nwith slavery and illiberality, and those parts of it too be enslaved\nwhich were the most noble, and that small part of it too assume the\nmastery, which is the most wicked and insane of all? Quite so, said he.\nWhat then,\u2014will you say, that such a soul is slavish or free? Slavish\nperhaps, I say. But is not the state that is slavish, and governed by\ntyranny, least of all able to do what it likes? Aye,\u2014quite so. And\nspeaking of a soul generally, will it not, when governed by tyranny,\nleast of all do what it likes,\u2014but being constantly hurried by some\nstinging passion, be full of tumult and inconstancy? Of course it must\nbe so. But will the state governed by tyranny be necessarily rich or\npoor? Poor. And must a soul under a tyranny then be ever penurious and\ninsatiable? Just so, said he. But what,\u2014must not such a state and such\nan individual be necessarily full of fear? It must be so. As for\nlamentations, and groans, and weepings, and torments, think you that you\nwould find more in any other kind of state? By no means. And in a man,\nthink you that such things exist in any one to a greater extent than in\nthis tyrannical one who is maddened by his desires and lusts? How can\nthey? said he. It is with reference, I suppose, then to all these, and\nother such like things, that you have deemed this the most wretched of\nall states? Was I not right then in doing so? said he. Certainly, said\nI. But what say you again as respects the tyrannical man, with regard to\nthese same things? That he is by far, said he, the most wretched of all\nin the world. This, replied I, you are not quite correct in saying. How?\nsaid he. He is not as yet, methinks, said I, as unhappy as he can be.\nBut who is so? The following person probably you will deem even yet more\nmiserable than the other. Which? That man, said I, who being naturally\ntyrannical, remains not in private life, but is unfortunate enough to be\ninduced by his destiny to become a tyrant. From what has been formerly\nobserved, said he, I presume that what you say is true. Yes, said I;\u2014but\nwe ought not merely to conjecture about matters so important as these,\nbut to sift them to the bottom, in the way we are now about to do;[247]\nfor most momentous is the inquiry about a good life and a bad one. Quite\nright, said he. Consider, then, whether there be anything in what I say;\nfor, in considering this question, it is my opinion that we ought to\nperceive it from what follows. From what? From every individual private\nman, among such as are rich, and possess many slaves; for these have at\nleast this resemblance to tyrants, that they rule over many,\u2014the\ndifference being in the multitude of the latter. Aye,\u2014there is some\ndifference. Are you sure then that these live securely, without dread of\ntheir domestics? Aye.\u2014for what should they fear? Nothing, said I; but do\nyou understand the reason? Yes;\u2014because the whole state assists each\nparticular individual. You say right, replied I:\u2014but what,\u2014if one of the\ngods were to take a man who had fifty slaves or upwards out of the\nstate,\u2014both himself, his wife, and children,\u2014and set them down in a\ndesert with the rest of his property, and his domestics, where no\nfreemen would be likely to lend him aid,\u2014what kind of fear, think you,\nhe would entertain about himself, his children, and his wife, of being\ndestroyed by the domestics? The greatest possible, methinks, replied he.\nWould he not be obliged to flatter some of his very slaves and make them\nmany promises, and set them at liberty without need, and so appear to be\nhimself the flatterer of servants? He must of course be compelled to do\nso, said he, or else be destroyed. But what, said I;\u2014if the god were to\nplace round him many other neighbours who could not endure for any one\nto pretend to lord it over another,\u2014and, wherever they find such an one,\npunished him with extreme rigour? Methinks, he would be still more\ndistressed, said he, when thus beset by a whole host of foes. And is not\nthe tyrant bound in such a prison-house, if he be of such disposition as\nwe have described,\u2014full of many and all kinds of aversions and desires;\nand whilst he is most eager in his soul, he alone of all in the state is\nnot allowed to go abroad, or to see what others love to see, but huddles\nhimself at home, and lives mostly as a woman, envying the other\ncitizens, whenever they travel abroad, and see what is good? Wholly so,\nof course, replied he.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 247:\n\n  Gr. \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u03bf\u1f34\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c7\u03c1\u1f74 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c4\u03b1, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u03b5\u1f56 \u03bc\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1 \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u1ff3 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u1ff3 \u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd;\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. VI.\u2014Well, then, through such evils as these, does not the man reap\nstill more, who, being ill-governed within himself, [a person whom you\njust now deemed to be the most of all wretched,] remains not in private\nstation, but through some fortune or other is obliged to act the tyrant,\nand, though unable to control himself, attempts to govern others, as if\nwith a body diseased, and unable to support itself, one were compelled\nto live not in a state of privacy, but in wrestling and fighting against\nother bodies? What you say, Socrates, replied he, is altogether most\nprobable and true. Is not this condition, then, dear Glaucon, said I,\naltogether wretched; and does not the tyrant live more wretchedly even\nthan the man that you conceive to live the most wretchedly of all? Quite\nso, replied he. True is it, then, though one may fancy otherwise, that\nthe really tyrannical man is really a slave to the greatest flatteries\nand slaveries, and a flatterer of the most abandoned men; and without\never in the smallest degree satisfying his desires, he is of all men\nmost in want of most things, and poor indeed, if one could but look into\nhis whole soul, and full of fear throughout life, filled with terrors\nand griefs,\u2014if, indeed, he resembles the constitution of the state he\nrules:\u2014and he does resemble it; does he not? Extremely, said he.\n\nAnd in addition to this, shall we not ascribe also to the tyrant-man\nwhat we formerly mentioned that he must necessarily be, and by governing\nbecome increasingly, envious, faithless, unjust, unfriendly,\nimpious,\u2014the entertainer and encourager of all vice; and from all these\ncauses be specially happy himself, and render all about him happy\nlikewise? No one of understanding will, said he, contradict you. Come,\nthen, said I, as a judge who is examining the whole case; so tell\nme,\u2014who, in your opinion, is first in happiness, and who second, and the\nrest in order, five in all; namely, the regal, the timocratic, the\noligarchal, the democratic, and the tyrannic. Easy, indeed, is this\ndecision, said he:\u2014for as they came before us, I have judged of them as\npublic actors, by their virtue and vice,\u2014happiness and its contrary.\nShall we then hire ourselves a herald? said I; or shall I myself\ndeclare, that the son of Ariston has judged the best and justest man to\nbe the happiest, [and that this is the man who is fittest to be as king,\nand as king too over himself;] and that the worst and the most unjust is\nthe most wretched; and that he is the most tyrannical, who in the\ngreatest degree tyrannizes over himself and the state? So let it be\npronounced by you, said he. Must I, then, state in addition, said I,\nwhether they be unknown to be such or not, to all men, and the gods too?\nPray do so, said he.\n\nCHAP. VII.\u2014Well then, said I;\u2014-this would seem to be one of our proofs;\nand this, if you please, must be the second. Which is this? Since the\nsoul, said I, of every individual is divided into three parts, just as\nwe divided our state, it will, in my opinion, admit of a second\nillustration. What is that? It is this:\u2014of the parts of the soul there\nappear to me to be three pleasures, one peculiar to each, with desires\nand governments in like manner. How say you? replied he. One part we\nsay, by which a man learns, another by which he is roused to spirit; but\nas for the third, it is so multiform, that we cannot express it by any\none word peculiar to itself, but have named it from the greatest and\nmost impetuous part thereof; calling it the desiderative, from the\nimpetuosity of the desires for eating and drinking, and sexual\npleasures, and such-like enjoyments, and calling it money-loving also,\nas it is through wealth most especially that such desires are\naccomplished. And we said rightly, replied he. Well, then, if we are to\ncall it the pleasure and delight in gain, shall we not do best to reduce\nit under one head in our discourse, so that we may have something quite\nclear to ourselves, when we are speaking of this part of the soul? And\nin calling it money-loving, and profit-loving, shall we not be giving it\nits proper term? Yes, I think so, said he. But what; do not we say, that\nthe spirited principle ought to be wholly impelled to superiority,\nvictory, and applause? Especially so. If, then, we term it the\ncontentious and ambitious, shall we not accurately express it? Most\naccurately. But [as regards that part of the soul] by which we gain\nknowledge, it is clear to every one, that it is wholly intent on always\nknowing the truth, wherever it may be; and as to wealth and glory, least\nof all does it care for these. Just so. By terming it, then, the love of\nlearning, and philosophy, we shall be defining it correctly? Of course.\nAnd in these people\u2019s souls, said I, one governs in some, and the other\nin others, as it happens? Just so, said he. This was why we said then,\nthat of men also there were three original species; the philosophic, the\nambitious, and the avaricious? Surely so. And likewise three species of\npleasures,\u2014corresponding to each of the others? Yes, certainly. You\nknow, then, said I, that if you were to ask these three men, by turns,\nwhich of these lives is the pleasantest, each would most commend his\nown; and the money-maker would say, that, compared with the pleasures of\nacquiring wealth, those arising from honour, or learning, are of no\nvalue, unless they bring in money? True, said he. And what says the\nambitious man? said I: does not he deem the pleasure arising from\nmoney-making a sort of burden;\u2014and again, that which arises from\nlearning, unless it bring him honour, mere smoke and trifling? So it is,\nsaid he. And as for the philosopher, said I, we may suppose that he\ndeems all other pleasures in comparison with that of knowing the nature\nof truth as a mere nothing, and that, while constantly employed in\nlearning something of this kind, he is not far off from pleasure,\u2014and\ncalls them really necessary, because he wanted none else, except when\ncompelled by necessity.[248] This, said he, you should well know.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 248:\n\n  The real _spiritual_ nature of this truth is beautifully expressed in\n  the Ph\u00e6do, p. 67 a:\u2014\u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f10\u03bd \u1fa7 \u1f02\u03bd \u03b6\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd, \u03bf\u1f55\u03c4\u03c9\u03c2\u2014\u1f10\u03b3\u03b3\u03c5\u03c4\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9 \u1f10\u03c3\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\n  \u03b5\u1f30\u03b4\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9, \u1f10\u1f70\u03bd \u1f45\u03c4\u03b9 \u03bc\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1 \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u1f41\u03bc\u03b9\u03bb\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c3\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd, \u1f45\u03c4\u03b9\n  \u03bc\u1f74 \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b1 \u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03b3\u03ba\u03b7, \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u1f72 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03c0\u03b9\u03bc\u03c0\u03bb\u03ce\u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03b5\u03cd\u03c9\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\n  \u1f00\u03c0\u2019 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6, \u1f15\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f02\u03bd \u1f41 \u0398\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03cd\u03c3\u1fc3 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fb6\u03c2.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. VIII.\u2014When these several lives then, said I, and the pleasures\npeculiar to each, are at variance with each other, not with reference to\na mode of life, worthier or more base, worse or better,\u2014but merely with\nreference to living more pleasantly or painfully;\u2014how can we know which\nof the two speaks most in accordance with truth? I am not, said he,\nquite able to tell. But consider it thus:\u2014by what criterion ought we to\njudge about matters rightly presented for our judgment;\u2014is it not by\nexperience, prudence, and reason,\u2014or can we find any better criterion\nthan these? How can we? said he. Consider now;\u2014of the three men, who is\nthe most experienced in all the pleasures?\u2014Think you that the\nmoney-loving man, by learning the real nature of truth, gains more\nexperience in the pleasure arising from knowledge, than the philosopher\nhas in that resulting from the acquisition of wealth? There is a great\ndifference, said he: for the philosopher must necessarily from early\nchildhood taste the other pleasures; but what it is to know real beings,\nand how sweet is its pleasure, the money-getting man need not taste, or\nbecome experienced therein;\u2014nay, indeed, it is no easy matter, even\nshould he earnestly try to accomplish it. The philosopher then, said I,\nfar surpasses the money-getting man, at least in experience of both the\npleasures. Far indeed. But what as regards the ambitious man\u2014has he any\nmore experience in the pleasure arising from honour, than the\nphilosopher in that which arises from the exercise of intellect? Honour,\nindeed, said he, attends them all, if each obtains his object: for the\nrich man is honoured by many, and so is the brave, and the wise; so all\nof them have experience, as to the kind of pleasure attending honour,\nbut in the contemplation of being itself, as to the pleasure which it\ngives, it is impossible for any other than the philosopher to have\ntasted it. On the ground of experience then, said I, he of all men is\nthe best judge. By far. And surely, including prudence also, he alone\nhas experience. Of course. But the organ, by which these pleasures must\nbe judged, is not the organ of the money-getter, nor of the ambitious\nman, but of the philosopher. Which is that? We said somewhere, that they\nmust be judged of by reason,\u2014did we not? Yes. But reasoning is chiefly\nthe organ of the philosopher? Of course it is. If then the things to be\ndetermined could be best determined by riches and gain, what the\nmoney-getting man commended, or despised, would necessarily be most\nagreeable to truth? Quite so. And if by honour, victory, and\ncourage,\u2014must it not be as the ambitious and contentious man determined?\nIt is evident. But since it is by experience, prudence, and reason, it\nfollows of course, said he, that what is praised by the philosopher and\nthe lover of reason must be the most true.\u2014Of the three pleasures, then,\nthat which belongs to that part of the soul by which we learn most is\nthe most pleasant, and that man in whom this part of us holds the chief\nsway lives the pleasantest life. How can it be doubted? said he:\u2014for the\nwise man, who has the supreme right to commend, commends his own life.\nBut which life, said I, does our judge pronounce the second, and which\nthe second pleasure? Plainly, that of the warlike and ambitious man; for\nthis is nearer to his own than that of the money-getter. And that of the\ncovetous, as it appears, is last of all? Of course, said he.\n\nCHAP. IX.\u2014These things then will succeed one another in order; and the\njust man will twice prevail over the unjust:\u2014the third victory now, as\nat the Olympic games, is sacred to Olympian Zeus, the Saviour; for you\nmust consider, that, with the exception of that of the wise man, the\npleasure of the others is by no means genuine nor pure, but somehow\nshadowed over, as I think I have myself heard from one of the wise\nmen:\u2014and this truly would be the greatest and most complete downfal.\nExtremely so;\u2014but how mean you? I will thus trace it out, said I, whilst\nin searching you answer my questions. Ask then, said he. Tell me then,\nsaid I, do we not say that pain is contrary to pleasure? Quite so. And\ndo we not say likewise, that to feel neither pleasure nor pain is\nsomething? We say it is. And that the state between both of these is a\ncertain tranquillity of the soul with reference to them;\u2014do you not so\nunderstand it? Just so, he replied. Do you not remember, said I, the\nspeeches of the diseased, which they utter when they are sick? What are\nthey? That nothing is sweeter than health, but that it escaped their\nnotice before they became sick, that it was the sweetest. I remember it,\nsaid he. And are you not wont to hear those who are under acute pain\nsay, that there is nothing sweeter than a cessation from pain? I do hear\nthem. And you may perceive the same thing in men, I think, when they are\nin other but similar circumstances, where, if in pain, they extol a\nfreedom from pain and the tranquillity of such a state, as being most\nsweet, though they do not extol that of feeling joy. Because perhaps the\nlatter, said he, becomes at that time sweet and desirable,\u2014namely,\ntranquillity. And when any one ceases, said I, from feeling joy, the\ntranquillity of pleasure will be painful. Perhaps so, said he. This\ntranquillity, then, which we just now said was between the two, will at\ntimes become both pain and pleasure. It seems so. What,\u2014is it possible,\nthat what is neither of the two should become both? I do not think so.\nAnd moreover, when what is pleasant or painful is in the soul, both\nsensations are a certain excitement; are they not? Yes. But did not that\nwhich is neither painful nor pleasant appear just now to be\ntranquillity, and between these two? It did appear so. How is it right,\nthen, to deem it sweet not to be in pain, or painful not to enjoy\npleasure? It is by no means right. In these cases, then, tranquillity is\nnot really so, said I; but it appears pleasant by comparison with the\npainful, and painful compared with the pleasant; and there is nothing\ngenuine in these appearances as regards the truth of pleasure, but a\ncertain magical delusion. Aye,\u2014just as our argument proves, he replied.\nConsider the pleasures then, said I, which do not arise from the\ncessation of pain, so as not frequently during our discussion to hold\nthe frequent notion that these two naturally thus subsist; viz., that\npleasure is the cessation of pain, and pain the cessation of pleasure.\nHow, said he, and to what pleasures do you allude? There are many\nothers, said I, particularly if you wish to consider the pleasures that\narise from smell; for these, without any preceding pain, are on a sudden\nimmensely great, and, when they cease, they leave no pain behind them.\nMost true, said he. Let us not then be persuaded that pure pleasure is\nthe removal of pain, or pain the removal of pleasure. No, we will not.\nBut yet, said I, those which extend through the body to the soul, and\nwhich are called pleasures, the greatest part of them almost, and the\nmost considerable, are of this species,\u2014certain cessations from pain?\nThey are so. And are not the preconceptions of pleasure and pain, which\narise in the mind from their expectation, of the same kind? Of the same.\n\nCHAP. X.\u2014Do you know then, said I, of what class they are, and what they\nchiefly resemble? What? said he. Do you conceive, said I, there is any\nsuch thing in nature as this, the above, the below, and the middle? I\ndo. Do you think then that any one, when brought from the below to the\nmiddle, imagines anything else than that he is brought to the above; and\nwhen he stands in the middle, and looks down whence he was brought, will\nhe imagine that he is anywhere else than above, whilst yet he has not\nseen the true above? By Zeus, said he, I do not think that such an one\nwill imagine otherwise. But if he should again, said I, be carried to\nthe below, he would conjecture he was carried to the below, and\nconjecture rightly? He would of course. Would he not be thus affected\nfrom his want of experience in what is really above, and in the middle,\nand below? Plainly so. Would you wonder then, that while men are\ninexperienced in the truth, they have unsound opinions about many other\nthings,\u2014and that as to pleasure and pain, and what is between these,\nthey are likewise affected in the same manner; so that, even when they\nare brought to what is painful, they conceive truly, and are really\npained; but when from pain they are brought to the middle, they strongly\nimagine that they have arrived at the highest pitch of pleasure, in the\nsame manner as those, who along with the black colour look at the gray,\nthrough inexperience of the white, and so are deceived? and just so\nthose who consider pain along with the freedom from pain, are deceived\nthrough inexperience of pleasure. By Zeus, said he, I should not wonder,\nbut much rather if it were not so. Consider the matter thus, said I; are\nnot hunger and thirst, and such-like things, certain emptinesses in the\nbodily habit? Of course. And are not ignorance and folly an emptiness in\nthe habit of the soul? Quite so. And is not the one filled when it\nreceives food, and the other when it acquires intelligence? Surely. But\nwhich is the more real repletion, that of the less, or the more truly\nreal being? It is plain, that of the more real. Which species, then, do\nyou think, participate most of a purer essence; those which partake of\nbread and drink, and meat, and all such sort of nourishment; or that\nspecies which partakes of true opinion and science, and intelligence,\nand, in short, of all virtue?\u2014And judge of it thus:\u2014That which is\nconnected with what is always similar, and immortal, and true, and is so\nof itself, and arises in what is of the same character, think you that\nit has more of the reality of being, than what is connected to what is\nnever similar and mortal, and is such itself, and is generated in a\nthing of the same character? Aye, said he, this differs greatly from\nthat which is always similar. Does then the essence of that which is\nalways similar participate more of essence than of science? By no means.\nBut what as regards truth? Nor of this neither. If it participate less\nof truth, does it not likewise do so of essence? Of necessity. In short,\nthen, do not those species which relate to the care of the body partake\nless of truth and essence, than those relating to the care of the soul?\nBy far. And the body likewise less than the soul; do you not think so? I\ndo. Is not that which is filled with more real beings, and is itself a\nmore real being, in reality more truly filled than that which is filled\nwith less real beings, and is itself a less real being? Of course it is.\nIf then it be pleasant to be filled with what is suitable to nature,\nthat which is in reality filled, and with more real being, must be made\nboth more really and more truly to enjoy true pleasure; but that which\nparticipates of less real being, must be less truly and solidly filled,\nand participates of a more uncertain and less genuine pleasure. Most\nnecessarily, said he. Such then as are unacquainted with wisdom and\nvirtue, and are always conversant in feastings and things of that kind,\nare carried, as it appears, to the below, and back again to the\nmiddle;\u2014and there they wander during life:\u2014but as they never pass beyond\nthis, they do not look towards the true above, and are not carried to\nit; nor are they ever really filled with real being; nor have they ever\ntasted solid and pure pleasure; but, after the manner of brutes looking\nalways downwards, bowed towards earth and their tables, they live\nfeeding and coupling; and from a lust for such things, they kick and\npush at one another as with iron horns and hoofs, and perish through\ntheir own insatiety, just like those who are filling with unreal being\nthat which is no real being, nor friendly to themselves. You are\ndescribing, Socrates, with quite oracular perfection, rejoined Glaucon,\nwhat is the life of the multitude. Must they not then, of necessity be\nconversant with pleasures mixed with pains, images of the true pleasure,\nshadowed in outline, and coloured by their position beside each other;\nso that both their pleasures and pains will appear vehement, and\nengender their mad passions in the foolish? Hence also they must fight\nabout these things, as Stesichorus says those at Troy fought about the\nimage of Helen, through ignorance of the true one. Of necessity, said\nhe, something of this kind must take place.\n\nCHAP. XI.\u2014But what? must not the same things necessarily happen to the\nirascible part of the soul, whenever any one gratifies it, either\nthrough envy from ambition, or violence from contentiousness, or anger\nfrom moroseness, pursuing a glut of honour, of conquest, and of anger,\nboth without reason, and without intelligence? Such things as these,\nsaid he, must necessarily happen with relation to this part of the soul.\nWhat then, said I;\u2014can we confidently say concerning all the pleasures,\nboth as respects the avaricious and the ambitious part, that such of\nthem as obey science and reason, and, in conjunction therewith, pursue\nand obtain the pleasures of which the prudent part of the soul is the\nleader, that these will obtain the truest pleasures, as far as it is\npossible for them to attain true pleasure, and in as much as they follow\ntruth, pleasures properly their own; if indeed what is best for each be\nmost properly his own? Aye, it surely is most properly his own, said he.\nWhen then the whole soul is obedient to the philosophic part, and there\nis no sedition in it, then every part in other respects performs its\nproper business, and is just, and also reaps its own pleasures, and such\nas are the best, and as far as is possible the most genuine. Certainly,\nindeed. But when any of the others governs, it happens that it neither\nattains its own pleasures, and it compels the other parts to pursue a\npleasure foreign to them, and not at all genuine. It does so, said he.\nWill not then those parts, which are most remote from philosophy and\nreason most especially effect such things? Very much so. And is not that\nwhich is most remote from law and order, most remote likewise from\nreason? It plainly is. And have not the amorous and the tyrannical\ndesires appeared to be most remote from law and order? Extremely so. And\nthe royal and the moderate ones, the least remote? Yes. The tyrant then,\nI think, will be the most remote from true pleasure, and such as is most\nproperly his own, and the other will be the least. Of necessity. And the\ntyrant, said I, will lead a life the most unpleasant, and the king the\nmost pleasant. Of great necessity. Do you know then, said I, how much\nmore unpleasant a life the tyrant leads than the king? If you tell me,\nsaid he. As there are three pleasures, as it seems, one legitimate, and\ntwo illegitimate; the tyrant in carrying the legitimate to extremity,\nand flying from law and reason, dwells with slavish pleasures as his\nlife-guardians, and how far he is inferior cannot easily be told, unless\nit be done in this manner. How? said he. The tyrant is somehow in the\nthird degree remote from the oligarchic character; for the democratic\nwas halfway between them. Yes. Will he not then dwell in the third\npicture of pleasure, distant from him as regards truth, if our former\nreasonings be true? Just so. But the oligarchic is the third again from\nthe royal, if we suppose the aristocratic and the royal the same? He is\nthe third. The tyrant then, said I, is remote from true pleasure, the\nthird from the third? So it seems. A plain surface then, said I, may be\nthe image of tyrannical pleasure, as to the computation of length.\nCertainly. But as to power, and the third augment, it is manifest by how\ngreat a distance it is remote. It is manifest, said he, to the computer\nat least. If now, conversely, any one shall say the king is distant from\nthe tyrant as to truth of pleasure, as much as is the distance 9, and\n20, and 700, shall he not, on completing the multiplication, find him\nleading the more pleasant life, and the tyrant the more wretched one, by\nthis same distance?[249] You have heaped up, said he, a prodigious\naccount of the difference between these two men, the just and the\nunjust, with reference to pleasure and pain. Yet the numbers are true,\nsaid I, and corresponding to their lives, if indeed days, and nights,\nand months, and years, correspond to them. But they do correspond, said\nhe. If then the good and just man surpasses so far the evil and unjust\nman in pleasure, in what a prodigious degree further shall he surpass\nhim in decorum of life, in beauty, and in virtue! Prodigious, indeed, by\nZeus, he replied.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 249:\n\n  The following numbers are employed by Plato in this place. He\n  considers the _Royal_ character as analogous to unity, the Oligarchic\n  to the number 3, and the Tyrannic to the number 9. As 3 therefore is\n  triple of unity, the Oligarchic is the third from the Royal character;\n  and in a similar manner the Tyrant is distant from the Oligarchist by\n  the triple in number; for 9 is the triple of 3, just as 3 is the\n  triple of 1. But 9 is a plane number, the length of which is 3, and\n  also its breadth. And a tyrannic, says Plato, is the last image of a\n  royal life. He also calls 3 a _power_, because unity being multiplied\n  by it, and itself by itself, and 9 by it, there will be produced 3, 9,\n  27. But he calls the third augment 27, arising from the multiplication\n  of the power 3, and producing depth or a solid number. Lastly, 27\n  multiplied into itself produces 729, which may be considered as a\n  perfect multiplication, this number being the 6th power of 3; and 6 as\n  is well known is a perfect number. Hence, as the King is analogous to\n  1, he is said, by Plato, to be 729 times distant from the Tyrant.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XII.\u2014Well then, said I, since we have reached this part of our\nargument, let us recapitulate what we first said, on account of which we\ncame hither: now it was said, if I mistake not, that it is advantageous\nto one who is thoroughly unjust, but who has the character of being\njust, to commit injustice. Was it not so said? It was indeed. Now then,\nsaid I, let us settle this point, since we have now settled the other,\nwith reference to acting justly and unjustly, what power each of these\npossesses in itself. How? said he. Let us ideally fashion an image of\nthe soul, that the man who said those things may know what he said. What\nkind of image? said he. One of those creatures, said I, which are fabled\nto have been of old, as that of Chim\u00e6ra, of Scylla, of Cerberus; and\nmany others are spoken of, where many particular natures existed\ntogether in one. They are spoken of indeed, said he. Let us form now the\nfigure of a creature, various, and many-headed,[250] having all around\nheads of tame creatures, and of wild, and having power in itself of\nchanging all these heads, and of breeding them out of itself. This is\nthe work, said he, of a skilful modeller: however, as the formation is\neasier in reasoning, than in wax and such-like, let it be formed. Let\nthere be now one other figure of a lion[251] and one of a man; but let\nthe first be by far the greatest, and the second be the second in bulk.\nThese are easy, said he, and they are formed. Unite now these three in\none, so that they may somehow coexist. They are united, said he. Form\nnow around them the external appearance of one of them, that of the man;\nso that to one who is not able to see what is within, but who perceives\nonly the external covering, the man may appear one creature. It is\nformed all round, said he. Let us now tell him who asserts that it is\nprofitable to this man to do injustice, but to do justice unprofitable,\nthat he asserts nothing else, than that it is profitable for him to\nfeast the multiform creature, and to make it strong; and likewise the\nlion, and what respects the lion, whilst the man he kills with famine,\nand renders weak, so as to be dragged whichever way either of those drag\nhim; and that he will also find it advantageous never to accustom the\none to live in harmony with the other, nor to make them friends, but\nsuffer them to bite one another, and to fight and devour each other. He,\nsaid he, who commends the doing injustice, undoubtedly asserts these\nthings. And does not he again, who says it is advantageous to act\njustly, say that he ought to do and to say such things by which the\ninner man shall come to have the most entire command of the man, and, as\na tiller of the ground, shall take care of the many-headed creature,\ncherishing the mild ones, and nourishing them, and hindering the wild\nones from growing up, taking the nature of the lion as his ally, and,\nhaving a common care for all, make them friendly to one another, and to\nhimself, and so nourish them? He who commends justice undoubtedly says\nsuch things as these. In all respects, then, he who commends justice\nwould seem to speak the truth, but he who commends injustice, to speak\nwhat is false; for, as respects pleasure, applause, and profit, he who\ncommends justice speaks the truth, and he who discommends it speaks\nnothing genuine; nor does he discommend with understanding what he\ndiscommends. Not at all, said he, as appears to me at least. Let us then\nin a mild manner persuade him (for it is not willingly he errs), asking\nhim, O blessed man! do not we say that the maxims of things beautiful\nand base become so upon such accounts as these? Those are good which\nmake the brutal part of our nature most subject to the man, or rather\nperhaps to that which is divine; while those are evil which enslave the\nmild part of our nature to the brutal:\u2014will he agree with us,\u2014or how? He\nwill, if he be advised by me, said he. Is there then any one, said I,\nwhom it avails, from this reasoning, to take gold unjustly, supposing\nsomething of this kind to happen, if, while taking the money, he at the\nsame time subjects the best part of himself to the worst? Or, if, taking\ngold, he should enslave a son or daughter, and that even to savage and\nwicked men, shall we not say this would not avail him, not though he\nshould receive for it a prodigious sum? But if he enslaves the most\ndivine part of himself to the most impious and most polluted part,\nwithout any pity, is he not wretched? and does he not take a gift of\ngold to his far more dreadful ruin, than Eriphyle did when she received\nthe necklace for her husband\u2019s life? By far, said Glaucon; for I will\nanswer you for him.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 250:\n\n  By this many-headed beast, _desire_ is signified.\n\nFootnote 251:\n\n  The lion signifies _anger_, and the figure of a man _reason_; for the\n  whole soul is divided into reason, anger, and desire.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XIII.\u2014Do you not, then, think that intemperance has of old been\nblamed on these accounts, because in such persons that terrible, great,\nand multiform beast was indulged more than was decent? Plainly so, said\nhe. And are not arrogance and moroseness blamed, when the lion-like and\nserpentine disposition increases and stretches beyond measure?\nCertainly. And are not luxury and effeminacy blamed because of the\nremissness and looseness of this disposition, when it engenders\ncowardice in the man? What else? Are not flattery and illiberality\nblamed, when any one makes this irascible part itself subject to the\nbrutal crew, and, for the sake of wealth and its insatiable lust,\naccustoms the irascible to be affronted from its youth, and instead of a\nlion to become an ape? Entirely so, said he. But why is it, do you\nthink, that mechanical arts and handicrafts bring disgrace? Shall we say\nit is on any other account than this, that when a man has the form of\nthat which is best in his soul naturally weak, so as not to be able to\ngovern the creatures within himself, but ministers to them, he is able\nonly to learn what flatters them? It is likely, said he. In order then\nthat such an one may be governed in the same manner as the best man is,\ndo we not say that he must be the servant of one who is the best, and\nwho has within him the divine governing principle? not at all conceiving\nthat he should be governed to the hurt of the subject (as Thrasymachus\nimagined), but, as it is best for every one to be governed, by one\ndivine and wise, most especially possessing it as his own within him, if\nnot subjecting himself to it externally; that as far as possible we may\nall resemble one another and be friends, governed by one and the same?\nRightly, indeed, said he. And law at least, said I, plainly shows it\nintends such a thing, being an ally to all in the city; as does likewise\nthe government of children, in not allowing them to be free till we\nestablish in them a proper government, as in a city; and having\ncultivated that in them which is best, by that which is best in\nourselves, we establish a similar guardian and governor for youth, and\nthen at length we set it free. It shows it indeed, said he. In what way\nthen shall we say, Glaucon, and according to what reasoning, that it is\nprofitable to do injustice, to be intemperate, or to do anything base,\nby which a man shall indeed become more wicked, but yet shall acquire\nmore wealth, or any kind of power? In no way, said he. But how shall we\nsay it is profitable for the unjust to be concealed, and not to suffer\npunishment? or does he not indeed, who is concealed, still become more\nwicked? but he who is not concealed, and is punished, has the brutal\npart quieted, and made mild, and the mild part set at liberty. And the\nwhole soul being settled in the best temper, in possessing temperance\nand justice, with wisdom, acquires a more valuable habit than the body\ndoes, in acquiring vigour and beauty, with a sound constitution; in as\nfar as the soul is more valuable than the body. Entirely so, said he.\nWill not everybody then, who possesses intellect, regulate his life,\nfirst by extending hither the whole of his powers, honouring those\nbranches of science which will render his soul of this kind, and\ndespising all other things? It is plain, said he. And next, said I, with\nregard to a good habit of body and its nourishment, he will spend his\nlife in attention to these, not that he may indulge the brutal and\nirrational pleasure; nor yet with a view to health, nor principally with\nreference to becoming strong, healthy, and beautiful, unless by these\nmeans he is to become temperate likewise: but he always appears to\nadjust the harmony of the body for the sake of the symphony which is in\nthe soul. By all means, said he, if indeed he is to be truly musical.\nWill he not then, in acquiring wealth, maintain accord and symphony? nor\nmoved by the congratulations of the multitude will he increase the bulk\nof his treasures to an infinite amount, occasioning thereby infinite\nevils? I think not, said he. But looking, said I, to the government of\nit himself, and taking care that nothing there be moved out of its\nplace, through the greatness or smallness of his property, thus\ngoverning as far as he is able, he will add to his property, and spend\nout of it. Entirely so, said he. He will regard honours, likewise, in\nthe same manner; of some he will willingly take a share, and taste of\nthose which he judges will render him a better man, but as for those\nwhich he thinks would dissolve that habit of soul which subsists within\nhim, he will fly from both those privately and in public. He will not be\nwilling, then, said he, to act the politician, if he takes care of this.\nYes, truly, said I, in his own state, and greatly too; but not probably\nin his country, unless some divine fortune befal him. I understand, said\nhe. You mean in the state we have now established, which exists only in\nour reasoning, but I think has no existence on earth. But in heaven,\nprobably,\u2014said I, there is a model of it, for any one who inclines to\ncontemplate it, and on contemplating to regulate himself accordingly;\nand to him it matters not whether it does exist anywhere, or will ever\nexist here:\u2014for he would perform the duties of this city alone, and of\nno other. It is reasonable, said he.\n\n\n                       THE END OF THE NINTH BOOK.\n\n\n                                BOOK X.\n\n                               ARGUMENT.\n\nThe _concluding book_ of the Republic comprises two main subjects of\n    inquiry. First, he explains more fully than he had done in the third\n    book, the reason for excluding from his pattern state the\n    accomplishment of poetry, so highly prized by the Athenians, but\n    nevertheless he allows the admission of that chaste and harmless\n    kind of it; such as hymns to the gods and odes in honour of\n    celebrated men;\u2014and, lastly, he treats of the rewards both present\n    and to come, resulting from the practice of justice,\u2014and of the\n    punishments on the other which attend on injustice, which is totally\n    opposed to state-happiness.\n\nCHAP. I.\u2014Moreover, remarked I, both in many other respects, I observe\nthat we have been rightly establishing our state, better indeed than all\nothers; and not least so do I say, as regards our sentiments concerning\npoetry. What are they? said he. That no part of it which is imitative\nshould by any means be admitted;\u2014for that it must not be admitted\nappears now, methinks, exceedingly clear, since the several forms of the\nsoul have been distinguished apart from one another. How do you mean?\nThat I may tell it to you,\u2014(for you will not denounce me to the\ncomposers of tragedy, and the rest of the imitative class),\u2014all such\nthings as these seem to be the ruin of the intellect of the\nhearers,\u2014that is, of such of them as have not a test to enable them to\ndiscern their peculiar nature. What consideration, said he, leads you to\nsay this? It must be stated, said I; although a certain friendship, at\nleast, and reverence for Homer, which I have had from my childhood,\nalmost restrains me from telling it; for he seems truly both to have\nbeen the first leader and teacher of all the good composers of tragedy;\nbut still the man must not be honoured in preference to truth. But what\nI mean must be spoken. By all means, said he. Hear me then, or rather\nanswer me. Put your question then. Can you tell me perfectly, what is\nthe nature of imitation?\u2014for I do not myself altogether understand its\nmeaning. Is it possible then, said he, that I shall any how understand\nit? That would be no way strange, said I; since those who are\ndim-sighted perceive many things sooner than those who see more clearly.\nThe case is so, said he; but while you are present, I would not venture\nto tell, even though I had some inkling of it, but consider it yourself.\nDo you wish then, that we hence begin our inquiry in our usual method?\nfor we used to suppose a certain idea relating to many individuals, to\nwhich we give the same name;\u2014do you not understand? I do understand. Let\nus suppose now any one you please among the many, as for example, if you\nwill, there are many beds and tables. Of course. But the ideas, at least\nrespecting these pieces of furniture, are two, one of bed, and one of\ntable. Yes. And do we not usually say, that the workman of each of these\npieces of furniture, looking towards the idea, makes them thus\u2014one of\nthem the beds, and the other the tables which we use;\u2014and all other\nthings in like manner?\u2014for surely not one of the artificers makes the\nidea itself; for how can he? By no means. See now then, what kind of an\nartificer do you call this? Which? He who makes all things which each\nseveral artificer makes. You are alluding to some skilful and wonderful\nperson. Not yet, at least; but you will much more say so presently; for\nthis same mechanic is not only able to make all sorts of utensils, but\nmakes everything also which springs from the earth, and he makes all\nsorts of animals, himself as well as others; and besides these things,\nhe makes the earth, the heaven and the gods, and all things in heaven,\nand in Hades under the earth. You are speaking, said he, of a perfectly\nwonderful sophist. Do you disbelieve me? said I; but tell me, do you not\nthink that there is such an artificer; or that in one respect, he is the\nmaker of all these things, and in another not so?\u2014or do you not\nperceive, that even you yourself might be able to make all these things,\nin a certain manner at least? And what, said he, is this manner? It is\nnot difficult, said I, but is done in many ways, and quickly too; but in\nthe quickest way of all, if I mistake not, if you please to make a\nmirror, and carry it round everywhere; for then you will very quickly\nmake the sun, and the heavenly bodies, the earth, yourself, and the\nother animals and utensils and plants, and all that we have just now\nmentioned. Yes, said he, the appearances, but not surely the realities.\nYou come in, said I, both well and seasonably, with your remark; for the\npainter too, methinks, is an artificer of this kind;\u2014is he not? He\ncannot possibly be otherwise. You will say then, I suppose, that he does\nnot make what he makes real and true, although the painter too, in a\ncertain manner at least, makes a bed, does he not? Aye, said he; but he\ntoo makes only the appearance.\n\nCHAP. II.\u2014But what as to the bed-maker?\u2014did you not just now say, that\nhe does not make the idea which we say exists, and is a bed, but only a\nparticular bed? I did say so. If then he does not make that which really\nexists, he does not make real being, but something resembling being,\nthough not being itself: but if any one should say that the work of the\nbed-maker, or any other craftsman, were real being, it seems he would\nnot say what is true. He would not, said he, as it should seem to those\nwho are acquainted with such discussions. We must not then be surprised\nif this likewise should seem somewhat obscure compared with the truth.\nCertainly not. Are you willing then, said I, that as regards these very\nthings we inquire concerning the real nature of their imitator? If you\nplease, he replied. Are there not then these three sorts of beds:\u2014one\nexisting in nature, and which we may say, I suppose, God made, or who\nelse? No one, I think. And another which the joiner makes? Yes, said he.\nAnd a third which the painter makes:\u2014is it not so? Granted. Now the\npainter, the bed-maker, God, these three are the masters of three\nspecies of beds? They are three indeed. But God, whether it were that he\nwas unwilling, or whether there was some necessity that he should only\nmake one bed in nature, made this one only, which is really a bed; while\ntwo or more of such other species have never been produced, nor ever\nwill be produced by God. How so? said he. Because, said I, if he had\nmade but two, one again would have appeared, the idea of which both\nthese two would have possessed, and that idea would be that of a bed,\nand not those two. Right, said he. God then, methinks, being aware of\nthese things, and willing to be the maker of a bed really, and having\nreal being, though of no one particular bed, and not to be any\nparticular bed-maker, produced but one in nature? It seems so. Are you\nwilling then that we should call him the producer of this, or of\nsomething of a similar nature? It is just, said he, since he has in\ntheir essential nature created this, as well as all other things. But\nwhat as to the joiner?\u2014is not he the maker of a bed? Yes. And is the\npainter, too, the workman and maker of something similar? By no means.\nBut what will you say he has to do with a bed? This, as I think, we may\nmost reasonably call him, said he, an imitator of what the others\nactually make and contrive. Be it so, said I; then him you call the\nimitator who makes what is generated the third from nature? Quite so, he\nreplied. And this composer of tragedy will in like manner, as being an\nimitator, rise as a sort of third from the king and the truth; and so\nlikewise all other imitators? Aye, so it seems. We have agreed, then, as\nto the imitator?\u2014but tell me this concerning the painter, whether you\nthink he undertakes to imitate each particular thing in nature, or the\nworks of artificers? The works of artificers, said he. Whether, such as\nthey really are, or such only as they appear? for this we must define\nmore correctly. How say you? said he. Thus; does a bed differ at all in\nitself, whether a man view it obliquely or directly opposite, or in any\nparticular position?\u2014or, is it not at all different, but only apparently\ndifferent, and so on as respects other things? Thus it appears, said he,\nyet it does not really differ. Consider this too, with reference to\nwhich of the two does painting work, in each particular work; whether\nwith reference to real being, to imitate it as it really is, or with\nreference to what is apparent, as it appears; and whether is it the\nimitation of appearance, or of truth? Only of appearance, said he. The\nimitative art, then, is far from the truth: and on this account it\nseems, he is able to make these things, because he is able to attain\nonly to some small part of each particular, and that but an image. Thus\nwe say that a painter will paint us a shoemaker, a joiner, and other\ncraftsmen, though having no acquaintance with any of these arts; yet he\nwill be able to deceive children and ignorant people, if he be a good\npainter, when he paints a joiner, and shows him at a distance, so far as\nto make them imagine he is a real joiner. Of course. But this, I think,\nmy friend, we must take into consideration in connexion with all these\nthings; that when any one tells us of any one, that he has met with a\nman skilled in all kinds of workmanship, and everything else which each\nparticular artist understands, and that he knows everything whatever\nmore accurately than any one else, we ought to reply to such an one,\nthat he is a simpleton, and that it seems, he has been deceived by\nfalling in with some conjurer, or imitator, so as to seem to himself, to\nknow everything owing to his very incapacity of distinguishing between\nscience and ignorance and imitation. Most true, said he.\n\nCHAP. III.\u2014Ought we not then next, said I, to consider tragedy and its\nleader, Homer?\u2014Since from some we hear that these poets understand all\narts, and all human affairs, respecting virtue and vice, and likewise\nall divine things; for a good poet must necessarily compose with\nknowledge, if he means what he composes to compose well,\u2014else he is not\nable to compose. It is our business then to consider whether those who\nhave fallen in with these imitators have been deceived, and on viewing\ntheir works have not perceived that they are the third distant from real\nbeing, and their works such as can easily be made by one not knowing the\ntruth (for they make phantasms, and not real beings); or whether do they\nsay something to the purpose, and do the good poets really know the\nthings about which the multitude think they speak well. This, said he,\nis by all means to be inquired into. Think you then, that if any one\ncould make both of these, that which is imitated, and likewise the\noriginal idea, he would allow himself seriously to apply to the\nworkmanship of the images, and propose that to himself as the best thing\nin life? I do not. But if he were really intelligent in these things\nwhich he imitates, he would, I think, far more seriously study the\nthings themselves than the imitations, and would try to leave behind him\nmany and beautiful actions, as monuments of himself, and rather study to\nbe himself the person commended than the mere eulogist. I think so, said\nhe; for neither is the honour nor the profit equal. As to other things,\nthen, let us not call them to account,\u2014asking Homer or any other of the\npoets, whether they were skilled in medicine, and not mere imitators of\nmedical discourses;\u2014for which of the ancient or more recent poets is\nsaid to have restored any to health, as \u00c6sculapius did? or what\ndisciples of medical science has any of them left behind, such as he\nleft his descendants?\u2014Neither let us ask them about the other arts, but\nleave them out of the question; and with reference to those greatest and\nmost beautiful things on which Homer tries to discourse,\u2014about wars and\narmies, and civic constitutions, and human education, it is just,\nperhaps, to question and inquire of him: Friend Homer, if you be not the\nthird from the truth with regard to virtue, as being the artificer of an\nimage (for thus we have defined an imitator), but rather the second, and\ncan discern what pursuits render men better or worse, in private as well\nas public, tell us which of the states has been better constituted by\nyou, as Laced\u00e6mon was by Lycurgus, and great and small cities by many\nothers;\u2014but as respects yourself, what state is it that acknowledges you\nto have been a good lawgiver, and to have done them good service? Italy\nand Sicily acknowledge Charondas, and we Solon; but who acknowledges\nyou? Will he be able to mention any one? I think not, said Glaucon. That\nis not pretended even by the Homerid\u00e6 themselves. But what war in\nHomer\u2019s days is recorded to have been conducted by him as general, or\nadviser? Not one. What then are his discoveries?\u2014since among the works\nof a wise man there are many discoveries and inventions mentioned, that\nconcern the arts, and other affairs; as of Thales the Milesian, and of\nAnacharsis the Scythian. There is not any one such to be found. But if\nnot in a public manner, has Homer the repute of having lived as a\nprivate instructor to any who delighted in his conversation, and to have\ndelivered down to posterity a certain Homeric manner of life,\u2014just as\nPythagoras was remarkably beloved on this account, and, as even to this\nday, such as denominate themselves Pythagor\u00e6ans appear to be somehow\neminent beyond others in their manner of life? Neither, said he, is\nthere anything of this kind related about Homer:\u2014for Creophilus,[252]\nSocrates, the friend of Homer, may probably appear even still more\nridiculous in his education, than in his name, if what is said of Homer\nbe true:\u2014for it is said that he was greatly neglected by him when he\nlived.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 252:\n\n  According to the Greek scholiast, Creophilus was an epic poet of\n  Chios. Homer, it is said, married his daughter, and dwelling in his\n  house, had from him the poem of the Iliad. His name, to which Socrates\n  alludes, signifies a lover of flesh.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. IV.\u2014It is said so indeed, I replied:\u2014but think you, Glaucon, that\nif Homer had really been able to educate men, and to make them better,\nas being capable not only of imitating in these matters, but of\nunderstanding them likewise, he would not then have won many intimate\nfriends, and have been loved and honoured by them? Whereas on the other\nhand, Protagoras of Abdera, and Prodicus of Ceos, and many others, have\nthe power of persuading the men of their day, by private conversation,\nthat they will neither be able to govern their family or the state,\nunless they themselves direct their education; and for this wisdom of\ntheirs, they are so exceedingly beloved, that their friends almost carry\nthem about on their heads. Would then the men of Homer\u2019s time have left\neither him or Hesiod to go about singing their songs, if he could have\ndone men service in the way of virtue, and not rather have kept him with\noffers of gold, and so obliged him to stay with them; or,\u2014had they been\nunable to prevail on him, would they not as disciples have followed him\neverywhere, till they had gained a sufficient education? Assuredly,\nSocrates, said he, you appear to me to say what is true. Shall we not\nthen establish this point,\u2014that all the poets, beginning from Homer, are\nimitators of the images of virtue, and of other things about which they\ncompose, but yet do not attain to the real truth; but, as we just now\nsaid, a painter, who himself knows nothing about the making of shoes,\nwill draw a shoemaker, apparently real only to such as are not\nintelligent, but look at him only as to colour and figures? Certainly.\nIn the same manner, I think, we shall say that the poet colours over\nwith his names and words certain colours of the several arts, without\nunderstanding anything himself, but merely imitating, so that to others\nsuch as himself who view things in his compositions, he has the\nappearance of possessing knowledge: and if he says anything about\nshoemaking in measure, rhythm, and harmony, he seems to speak perfectly\nwell, whether it be respecting the art of a general or any other\nsubject; so great is the enchantment which these things naturally have,\nbecause you know, I think, in what manner poetry appears when stript of\nthe colour of music, and expressed apart,\u2014for you have somewhere beheld\nit. I have, said he. Do they not, said I, resemble the faces of people\nwho are in the prime of their life, but yet not beautiful, such as they\nappear when their bloom forsakes them? Quite so, said he. Come then,\nconsider this:\u2014the maker of the image, whom we call the imitator, knows\nnothing of real being, but only of that which is apparent:\u2014is it not so?\nYes. Let us not then leave it expressed by halves, but let us examine it\nfully. Say on, replied he. A painter, we say, will paint reins and a\nbridle. Yes. And the leather-cutter, and the smith, will make them.\nCertainly. Does the painter then understand what kind of reins and\nbridle there ought to be;\u2014or not even he who makes them, the smith, nor\nthe leather-cutter, but he who knows how to use them, the horseman\nalone? Most true. Shall we not say that this is the case in everything\nelse? How? That with reference to each particular thing there are these\nthree arts:\u2014that which is to use it, that which is to make it, and that\nwhich is to imitate it? Yes. Are then the virtue, and the beauty, and\nthe rectitude of every utensil, and animal, and action, for nothing else\nbut for the use for which each particular was made, or generated? Just\nso. Very necessarily, then, must he who uses each particular, be the\nmost skilful, and most able to tell the maker what he makes good or bad,\nwith regard to the use in which he employs it: thus, for example, a\nflute-player will tell the flute-maker concerning flutes, what things\nare expedient for playing on the flute, and will give orders how he\nought to make them, but the latter will attend to his directions. Of\ncourse. Will not the one then, being intelligent, pronounce concerning\ngood and bad flutes, and the other, believing him, make them\naccordingly? Yes. With reference then to one and the same instrument,\nthe maker will form a correct opinion concerning its beauty or\ndeformity, while he is conversant with one who is intelligent, and is\nobliged to hear from the intelligent; but he who uses it must have\nscience. Certainly. But will the imitator have science from using the\nthings he paints, whether handsome and correct, or otherwise? or will he\nform a correct opinion from being necessarily conversant with the\nintelligent, and from being ordered how he ought to paint? Neither of\nthe two. The imitator then will neither know nor form a correct opinion\nabout what he imitates with reference to beauty or deformity? It seems\nnot. The imitator then will be very skilful in his imitation, with\nregard to wisdom, concerning what he paints? Not wholly so. Nevertheless\nhe will at least imitate, without knowing about each particular in what\nrespect it is bad or good; and he will probably imitate such as appears\nto be beautiful to the multitude, and those who know nothing? Of course.\nWe have now, indeed, sufficiently, as it appears, at least, settled\nthese things;\u2014that the imitator knows nothing worth mentioning in those\nthings which he imitates, but imitation is a sort of amusement, and no\nserious business:\u2014and likewise, that those who apply to tragic poetry in\niambics and epics, are all imitators in the highest degree? Certainly.\n\nCHAP. V.\u2014By Zeus, though, said I, this business of imitation is placed\nsomehow in the third degree from the truth:\u2014is it not? Yes. To what part\nthen of man does it belong, having the power that it has? What part do\nyou speak of? Of such as this:\u2014the same magnitude perceived by sight,\ndoes not appear in the same manner, both near and at a distance. It does\nnot. And the same things appear crooked and straight, when we look at\nthem in water, and out of the water, and concave and convex, through\nerror of the sight, as to colours. All this disturbance is manifest in\nthe soul; and it is this infirmity of our nature which painting attacks,\nleaving nothing of magical seduction unattempted, as well as the\nwonder-working art, and many other such-like devices. True. And have not\nthe arts of measure, number, and weight been deemed in these matters\nmost ingenious helps, that so the apparent greater or less, the apparent\nmore or heavier, may not govern us, but that which numbers, measures,\nand weighs? It must be so. But this again is, at least, the work of the\nrational part in the soul. It is so, indeed. But while reason often\nmeasures and pronounces some things to be greater or less than other\nthings, or equal, the contrary appears at the same time as regards these\nthings? Yes. But did not we say that it was impossible for the same\nperson to have contrary opinions about the same things at the same time?\nThus far indeed we said rightly. That part of the soul, then, which\njudges contrary to the measure, would seem not to be the same with that\nwhich judges according to the measure. It would not. But surely that, at\nleast, which trusts to measure and computation would seem to be the best\npart of the soul? Of course. That then which opposes itself to this will\nbe one of our depraved parts. Necessarily so. It was this then I wished\nshould be agreed upon, when I said that painting, and imitation, in\ngeneral, being far from the truth, delights in its own work, conversing\nwith that part in us which is far from wisdom, and is its companion and\nfriend, to no sound nor genuine purpose. Entirely so, said he.\nImitation, then, being depraved in itself, and joining with that which\nis depraved, generates depraved things. It seems so. Whether, said I, is\nthe case thus, with reference to the imitation which is by the sight\nonly, or is it likewise so with reference to that by hearing, which we\ncall poetry? Probably as to this also, said he. We shall not therefore,\nsaid I, trust to the appearance in painting, but we shall proceed to the\nconsideration of the intellectual part with which the imitation through\npoetry is conversant, and see whether it is depraved or worthy. It must\nbe done. Let us proceed then thus: Poetic imitation, we say, imitates\nmen acting either voluntarily or involuntarily; and imagining that in\ntheir acting they have done either well or ill, and in all these cases\nreceiving either pain or pleasure: is the case any otherwise than this?\nNot at all. In all these, now, does the man agree with himself? or, as\nhe disagreed with reference to sight, and had contrary opinions in\nhimself of the same things at one and the same time, does he, in the\nsame manner, disagree likewise in his actions, and fight with himself?\nBut I recollect that there is no occasion for us to settle this at\nleast; for, in our previous discussion, we sufficiently determined all\nthis,\u2014that our soul is full of a thousand such internal contrarieties.\nRight, said he. Right indeed, said I, but it appears to me necessary to\ndiscuss now, what was then omitted. What is that? said he. We said\nsomewhere formerly, said I, that a good man, when he meets with such a\nmisfortune as the loss of a son, or of anything else which he values the\nmost, will bear it of all men the easiest. Certainly. But let us now\nconsider this further,\u2014whether will he not grieve at all, or is this\nindeed impossible, but will he moderate his grief? The truth, said he,\nis rather this last. But tell me this now concerning him, whether do you\nthink that he will struggle more with grief and oppose it, when he is\nobserved by his equals, or when he is in solitude, alone by himself?\nMuch more, said he, when he is observed. But when alone, he will\nventure, I think, to utter many things, which, if any one heard him, he\nwould be ashamed of, and he will do many things which he would not wish\nany one saw him doing. Aye, such is the case, said he.\n\nCHAP. VI.\u2014Do not then reason and law command him to restrain his\ngrief,\u2014while it is the passion itself that excites grief? True. As then\nthere is a twofold inducement for man\u2019s conduct, with regard to the same\nthing, at one and the same time, we must necessarily say that he has two\nconductors. Of course. And shall we not say that one of them is ready to\nobey the law wherever law leads him? How? Law in a manner says that it\nis best to maintain the greatest possible tranquillity in misfortunes,\nand not to bear them ill; since the good or evil of such things as these\nis not manifest, and since no advantage follows the bearing these things\nill; and as nothing of human affairs deserves great interest; and,\nbesides this, their grief proves a hinderance to that within them which\nwe ought to have most at hand. What is it, said he, you here mean?\nDeliberating on the event, said I; and, as on the throw of the dice,\nregulating our affairs according to what turns up, in whatever way\nreason shall dictate as best; and not as children, when they fall, to\nlie still, and waste the time in crying; but always to accustom the soul\nto apply in the speediest manner to heal and raise up what was fallen\nand sick, putting an end to lamentation by medicine. One would thus,\nsaid he, behave in the best manner in every condition. And did not we\nsay that the best part is willing to follow this which is rational?\nPlainly so. And shall we not say that the part which leads to the\nremembrance of affliction and to wailings, and is insatiably given to\nthese, is irrational, and idle, and a friend to cowardice? We shall,\nindeed, say so. Is not the grieving part then that which admits of much\nand various imitation? But the prudent and tranquil part, which is ever\nuniform with itself, is neither easily imitated, nor, when imitated,\neasily understood, especially by a popular assembly, where all sorts of\nmen are assembled together in a theatre. For surely it is the imitation\nof a disposition which is foreign to them. Entirely so. It is plain,\nthen, that the imitative poet is not made for such a part of the soul as\nthis:\u2014nor is his skill fitted to please it, if he means to gain the\napplause of the multitude; but he applies to the passionate and the\nmultiform part, as it is easily imitated. It is plain. May we not then,\nwith justice, lay hold of the imitative poet, and place him in\ncorrespondence with the painter? for he resembles him, both because, as\nto truth, he effects but depraved things, and resembles him too in this\nbeing conversant with a different part of the soul from that which is\nbest:\u2014and thus we may, with justice, not admit him into our city which\nis to be well regulated, because he excites and nurtures this part of\nthe soul, and, by strengthening this, destroys the rational:\u2014and just as\nhe, who in a state gives power to the wicked, betrays the state, and\nruins the best men, we may in like manner say that the imitative poet\nestablishes a bad republic in the soul of each individual, gratifying\nthe foolish part of it, which neither discerns what is great, nor what\nis little, but deems the same things sometimes great, and sometimes\nsmall, forming little images in its own imagination, altogether remote\nfrom the truth? Certainly.\n\nCHAP. VII.\u2014Still we have not yet brought the greatest accusation against\nit: for that is, somehow, a very dreadful one, that it has the power of\ncorrupting even the good, except only a very few. It must, if it acts in\nthis manner. But hear now, and consider; for somehow, the best of us,\nwhen we hear Homer, or any of the tragic writers, imitating some of the\nheroes when in grief, pouring forth long speeches in their sorrow,\nbewailing and beating their breasts, you know are delighted; and,\nyielding ourselves, we follow along, and, sympathizing with them,\nseriously commend him as an able poet whoever most affects us in this\nmanner. I know it, of course. But when any domestic grief befals any of\nus, you perceive, on the other hand, that we value ourselves on the\nopposite behaviour, if we can be quiet and endure, this being the part\nof a man, but that of a woman, which in the other case we commended. I\nperceive it, said he. Is this commendation proper, then, said I, when we\nsee such a man as one would not deign to be oneself, but would be\nashamed of, not to abominate but to delight in and commend him? No, by\nZeus, said he; it appears unreasonable. Certainly, said I, if you\nconsider the matter thus. How? If you reflect that the part of us, which\nin our private misfortunes is forcibly restrained, and is kept from\nweeping and bewailing to the full, being by nature of such a kind as\ndesires these, is the very part which by the poets is filled and\ngratified; but that part in us, which is naturally the best, being not\nsufficiently instructed, either by reason or habit, grows remiss in its\nguardianship over the bewailing part, by attending to the sufferings of\nothers, and deems it no way disgraceful to itself, to commend and pity\none who grieves immoderately, whilst he professes to be a good man;\u2014but\nthis it thinks it gains, even pleasure, which it would not choose to be\ndeprived of, by despising the whole of the poem:\u2014for, methinks, it falls\nto the share of few to be able to consider, that what we feel for\nothers\u2019 misfortunes must necessarily be felt with respect to our\nown,\u2014because it is no easy matter for a man to bear up under his own\ntroubles, who strongly cherishes the bewailing disposition over those of\nothers. Most true, said he. And is not the reasoning the same with\nreference to the ridiculous?\u2014For when you hear, by comic imitation, or\nin private conversation, what you would be ashamed to do yourself to\nexcite laughter, and are delighted with it, and imitate it, you do the\nsame thing here as in tragedy: for that part, which, when it wanted to\nexcite laughter, was formerly restrained by reason from a fear of\nincurring the character of scurrility, by now letting loose, and\nallowing there to grow vigorous, you are often imperceptibly brought to\nbe in your own conduct a buffoon. Extremely so, said he. And with\nrespect to venereal pleasures, and anger, and the whole of the passions,\nas well the sorrowful as the joyful in the soul, which truly, we have\nsaid, attend us in every action; the poetical imitation of these has the\nsame effect upon us; for it nurtures and irrigates them, whereas they\nought to be dried up, and makes them govern us, whereas they ought to be\ngoverned, in order to our becoming better and happier, instead of being\nworse and more miserable. I can say no otherwise, said he. When\ntherefore, Glaucon, said I, you find the eulogists of Homer saying that\nthis poet instructed Greece, and that he deserves to be taken as a\nmaster to teach both the management and the knowledge of human affairs,\nand that a man should regulate the whole of his life by the rules of\nthis poet, we should indeed love and embrace such people, as being as\ngood as they can be; and agree with them that Homer is a fine poet, and\nthe first of tragic writers:\u2014yet they must know, that hymns to the gods,\nand the praises of worthy actions, are alone to be admitted into our\nstate:\u2014for if you were to admit the pleasurable muse likewise, in songs,\nor verses, we should have pleasure and pain reigning in our state\ninstead of law, and that reason which always appears best to the\ncommunity. Most true, said he.\n\nCHAP. VIII.\u2014Let these things now, said I, be our apology, when we\nrecollect what we have said with reference to poetry, that we then very\nproperly dismissed it from our republic, since it is such as is now\ndescribed: for reason obliged us. And let us address it further, that it\nmay not accuse us of a certain roughness and rusticity, that there is an\nancient variance between philosophy and poetry; for such verses as\nthese,\n\n           That brawling whelp, which at her mistress barks,\n\nAnd\n\n                He apes the great with empty eloquence,\n\nAnd\n\n           On trifles still they plod, because they\u2019re poor;\n\nand a thousand such-like, are marks of an ancient opposition between\nthem. Notwithstanding, however, it may be said, that if any one can\nassign a reason why the poetry and the imitation which are calculated\nfor pleasure ought to be in a well-regulated city, we, for our part,\nshall gladly admit them, as we are at least conscious to ourselves that\nwe are charmed by them. But to betray what appears to be truth, were an\nunholy thing. For are not you yourself, my friend, charmed by this\nimitation, and most especially when you see it performed by Homer? Very\nmuch so. Is it not just, then, that we introduce it as speaking its own\ndefence, either in song, or in any other measure? By all means. And we\nmay at least grant, even to its defenders, such as are not poets, but\nlovers of poetry, to speak in its behalf, without verse, and show that\nit is not only pleasant, but profitable for states, and human life also;\nfor surely we shall derive some benefit if it shall be found to be not\nonly pleasant but profitable. How can we do otherwise than derive\nbenefit from it? said he. And if it happen otherwise, my friend, we\nshall do as those who have been in love, when they deem their love\nunprofitable,\u2014they desist, though with violence; so we in like manner,\nthrough this innate love of such poetry that prevails in our best forms\nof government, shall be well pleased to see it appear to be the best and\ntruest; and we shall hear it till it is able to make no further apology.\nBut we shall take along with us this discourse which we have held, as a\ncounter-charm, and incantation, being afraid to fall back again into a\nchildish and vulgar love. We may perceive then that we are not to be\nmuch in earnest about such poetry as this, as if it were a serious\naffair, and approached to the truth; but the hearer is to beware of it,\nand to be afraid for the republic within himself, and to entertain those\nopinions of poetry which we mentioned. I entirely agree, said he. For\ngreat is the contest, friend Glaucon, said I, great not such as it\nappears, to become a good or a bad man: wherefore it is not right to be\nmoved, either by honour, or riches, or any magistracy whatever, or\npoetry, so to neglect justice, and the other virtues. I agree with you,\nfrom what we have argued, and so I think will any one else.\n\nCHAP. IX.\u2014However, we have not yet, said I, discussed the greatest prize\nof virtue, and the rewards laid up for her. You speak of some prodigious\ngreatness, said he, if there be other greater than those mentioned. But\nwhat is there, said I, can be great in a little time? for all this\nperiod from infancy to old age is but little in respect of the whole.\nNothing at all indeed, said he. What then? Do you think an immortal\nbeing ought to be much concerned about such a period, and not about the\nwhole of time? I think, said he, about the whole. But why do you mention\nthis? Have you not perceived, said I, that our soul is immortal, and\nnever perishes? On which he, looking at me, and wondering, said, By\nJupiter, not I indeed. But are you able to show this? I should otherwise\nact unjustly, said I. And I think you yourself can show it, for it is\nnot at all difficult. To me at least, said he, it is difficult; but I\nwould willingly hear from you this which is not difficult. You shall\nhear then, said I. Only speak, he replied. Is there not something, said\nI, which you call good, and something which you call evil? I own it. Do\nyou conceive of them, then, just in the way that I do? How? That which\ndestroys and corrupts everything is the evil, and what preserves and\nprofits it is the good. I do, said he. But what? Do you say, that there\nis something which is good, and something which is bad, to each\nparticular? as blindness to the eyes, and disease to every animal body,\nblasting to corn, rottenness to wood, rust to brass and iron, and, as I\nsay almost every thing to its connate evil and disease? I do, he\nreplied. And when anything of this kind befals anything, does it not\nrender that which it befals base, and in the end dissolve and destroy\nit? How should it not? Its own connate evil then and baseness destroys\neach particular; or, if this does not destroy it, nothing else can ever\ndestroy it:\u2014because that which is good can never destroy anything, nor\nyet that which is neither good nor evil. How can they? said he. If then\nwe shall be able to find among beings, any one which has indeed some\nevil which renders it base, but is not however able to dissolve and\ndestroy it, shall we not then know that a being thus constituted cannot\nbe destroyed at all? So it seems, replied he. What then? said I:\u2014is\nthere not something which renders the soul evil? Certainly, he replied;\nall these things which we have now mentioned,\u2014injustice, intemperance,\ncowardice, ignorance. But does any of these then dissolve and destroy\nit?\u2014And attend now, that we may not be imposed on, in thinking that an\nunjust and foolish man, when detected acting unjustly, is then destroyed\nthrough his injustice, which is the baseness of his soul: but consider\nit thus:\u2014As disease, which is the baseness of animal body, dissolves and\ndestroys body, and reduces it to be no longer that body; so all those\nthings we mentioned, being destroyed by their own proper evil adhering\nto them and possessing them, are reduced to non-existence. Is it not so?\nYes. Consider now the soul in the same manner. Does injustice, and the\nrest of vice, possessing it, by possessing, and adhering to it, corrupt\nand deface it, till, bringing it to death, it separates it from the\nbody? By no means, said he. But it were absurd, said I, that anything\nshould be destroyed by the baseness of another, but not by its own.\nAbsurd. For you must reflect, Glaucon, said I, that neither by the\nbaseness of victuals, whether owing to mouldiness, or rottenness, or\nwhatever else, do we think our body can be destroyed; but if this\nbaseness in them create in the body a depravity of the body, we may\nallege, that through their means, the body is destroyed by its own evil,\nwhich is disease. But we will never allow that by the baseness of food,\nwhich is one thing, the body, which is another thing, can ever by this\nforeign evil, without creating in it its own peculiar evil, be at any\ntime destroyed. You speak most correctly, he replied.\n\nCHAP. X.\u2014According to the same reasoning, then, said I, unless the\nbaseness of the body create a baseness of the soul, let us never allow\nthat the soul can be destroyed by an evil which is foreign, without its\nown peculiar evil, one thing by the evil of another. There is reason for\nit, said he. Let us, then, either refute these things as not good\nreasoning; or, so long as they are unrefuted, let us at no time say,\nthat the soul shall be ever in any degree the more destroyed, either by\nburning fever, or by any other disease, or by slaughter, not even though\na man should cut the whole body into the smallest parts possible, till\nsome one show that, through these sufferings of the body, the soul\nherself becomes more unjust and unholy. But we will never allow it to be\nsaid, that when a foreign evil befals anything, whilst its own proper\nevil is not within it, either the soul or anything else is destroyed.\nBut this, at least, said he, no one can ever show, that the souls of\nthose who die are by death rendered more unjust. But if any one, replied\nI, shall dare to contend with us in reasoning; and, in order that he may\nnot be obliged to own that souls are immortal, should say, that when a\nman dies he becomes more wicked and unjust, we shall surely require if\nhe who says this speaks truly, that injustice is deadly to the\npossessor, as a disease; and that those who embrace it are destroyed by\nit as by a disease destructive in its own nature,\u2014those most speedily\nwho embrace it most, and those more slowly who embrace it less. And not\nas at present, where the unjust die having this punishment inflicted on\nthem by others. By Jupiter, said he, injustice would not appear\nperfectly dreadful, if it were deadly to him who practises it (for that\nwere a deliverance from evil); but I rather think it will appear to be\naltogether the reverse, destroying others as far as it can, but\nrendering the unjust extremely alive, and, in conjunction with being\nalive, wakeful likewise; so far, as it seems, does it dwell from being\ndeadly. You say well, replied I; for, when a man\u2019s own wickedness and\npeculiar evil is not sufficient to kill and destroy the soul, that evil,\nwhich aims at the destruction of another, can scarcely destroy a soul,\nor anything else but that against which it is aimed. Hardly, indeed,\nsaid he, as I think at least. Since, therefore, it is destroyed by no\none evil, neither peculiar nor foreign, is it not plain that, of\nnecessity, it always is? and, if it always is, it is immortal?\nNecessarily so, he replied.\n\nCHAP XI.\u2014Let this then, said I, be so settled:\u2014and if it be, you will\nperceive that the same souls will always remain, for their number will\nnever become less, none being destroyed, nor will it become greater; for\nif, anyhow, the number of immortals was made greater, you know it would\ntake from the mortal, and in the end all would be immortal. You say\ntrue. But let us not, said I, think that this will be the case (for\nreason will not allow of it), nor yet that the soul in its truest nature\nis of such a kind as to be full of much variety, dissimilitude, and\ndifference considered in itself. How mean you? said he. That cannot\neasily, said I, be eternal which is compounded of many things, and which\nhas not the most beautiful composition, as hath now appeared to us to be\nthe case with reference to the soul. It is not likely. That the soul\nthen is something immortal, both our present reasonings, and others too,\nmay oblige us to own: but in order to know what kind of being the soul\nis, in truth, one ought not to contemplate it as it is damaged both by\nits conjunction with the body and by other evils, as we now behold it,\nbut such as it is when become pure, such it must by reasoning be fully\ncontemplated; and he (who does this) will find it far more beautiful at\nleast, and will more plainly see through justice, and injustice, and\neverything which we have now discussed. We are now telling the truth\nconcerning it, such as it appears at present. We have seen it, indeed,\nin the same condition in which they see the marine Glaucus,[253] where\nthey cannot easily perceive his ancient nature, because the ancient\nmembers of his body are partly broken off, and others are worn away; and\nhe is altogether damaged by the waves: and, besides this, other things\nare grown to him, such as shellfish, seaweed, and stones: so that he in\nevery respect resembles a beast, rather than what he naturally was. In\nsuch a condition do we behold the soul under a thousand evils. But we\nought to behold it there, Glaucon. Where? said he. In its philosophy;\nand to observe to what it applies, and what intimacies it professes, as\nbeing allied to that which is divine, immortal, and eternal; and what it\nwould become, if it wholly pursued a thing of this kind, and were by\nthis pursuit brought out of that sea in which it now is, and had the\nstones and shellfish shaken off from it, which, at present, as it is fed\non earth, render its nature, to a great extent, earthy, stony, and\nsavage, through those aliments, which are said to procure felicity: and\nthen one might behold its true nature, whether multiform, or uniform,\nand everything concerning it. But we have, I think, sufficiently\ndiscussed its passions, and forms in human life. Assuredly, he replied.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 253:\n\n  According to the Greek Scholiast, Glaucus is said to have been the son\n  of Sisyphus and Merope, and to have become a marine demon. For,\n  meeting with an immortal fountain, and descending into it, he became\n  immortal. Not being able, however, to point out this fountain to\n  certain persons, he threw himself into the sea; and once every year\n  coursed round all shores and islands in conjunction with whales.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XII.\u2014Have we not now, said I, discussed everything else in our\nreasonings, though we have not produced those rewards and honours of\njustice (as you say Hesiod and Homer do)? but we find justice itself to\nbe the best reward to the soul; and that it ought to do what is just,\nwhether it have or have not Gyges\u2019 ring, and, together with such a ring,\nthe helmet[254] likewise of Pluto. You say most true, said he. Will it\nnot now, then, Glaucon, said I, be attended with no envy, if, besides\nthese, we add those rewards to justice and the other virtues, which are\nbestowed on the soul by men and gods, both whilst the man is alive, and\nafter he is dead? By all means, said he. Will you, then, restore me what\nyou borrowed in the reasoning? What, chiefly? I granted you, that the\njust man should be deemed unjust, and the unjust be deemed to be just.\nFor you were of opinion, that though it were not possible that these\nthings should be concealed from gods and men, it should, however, be\ngranted, for the sake of the argument, that justice in itself might be\ncompared with injustice in itself; do you not remember it? I should,\nindeed, be unjust, said he, if I did not.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 254:\n\n  The helmet of Pluto is said to be an immortal and invisible cloud,\n  with which the gods are invested when they wish not to be known to\n  each other. And it is applied as a proverb to those that do anything\n  secretly.\u2014Schol. Gr\u00e6c. in Plat. p. 197.\n\n-----\n\nNow after the judgment is over, I demand again, in behalf of justice,\nthat as you allow it to be indeed esteemed both by gods and men, you\nlikewise allow it to have the same good reputation, that it may also\nreceive those prizes of victory, which it acquires from the reputation\nof justice, and bestows on those who possess it; since it has already\nappeared to bestow those good things which arise from really being just,\nand that it does not deceive those who truly embrace it. You demand what\nis just, said he. Will you not, then, said I, in the first place,\nrestore me this? That it is not concealed from the gods, what kind of\nman each of the two is. We will grant it, said he. And if they be not\nconcealed, one of them will be beloved of the gods, and one of them\nhated,[255] as we agreed in the beginning. Such is the case. And shall\nwe not agree, that as to the man who is beloved of the gods, whatever\ncomes to him from the gods, will all be the best possible, unless he has\nsome necessary ill from former miscarriage? Certainly. We are then to\nthink thus of the just man. That if he happen to be in poverty, or in\ndiseases, or in any other of those seeming evils, these things to him\nissue in something good, either whilst alive or dead. For never at any\ntime is he neglected by the gods, who inclines earnestly to endeavour to\nbecome just, and practises virtue as far as it is possible for man to\nresemble God. It is reasonable, replied he, that such an one should not\nbe neglected by him whom he resembles. And are we not to think the\nreverse of these things concerning the unjust man? Certainly. Such,\nthen, would seem to be the prizes which the just man receives from the\ngods. Such they are, indeed, in my opinion, said he. But what, said I,\ndo they receive from men? Is not the case thus (if we are to suppose the\ntruth)? Do not cunning and unjust men do the same thing as those racers,\nwho run well at the beginning, but not so at the end? for at the first\nthey briskly leap forward, but in the end they become ridiculous, and,\nwith their ears on their neck, they run off without any reward. But such\nas are true racers, arriving at the end, both receive the prizes, and\nare crowned. Does it not happen thus, for the most part, as to just men;\nthat at the end of every action and intercourse of life they are both\nheld in esteem, and receive rewards from men? Entirely so. You will then\nsuffer me to say of these what you yourself said of the unjust. For I\nwill aver now, that the just, when they are grown up, shall arrive at\npower if they desire magistracies, they shall marry where they incline,\nand shall settle their children in marriage agreeably to their wishes;\nand everything else you mentioned concerning the others, I now say\nconcerning these. And on the other hand, I will say of the unjust, that\nthe most of them, though they may remain concealed while young, yet,\nbeing caught at the end of the race, are ridiculous; and, when they\nbecome old, are wretched and ridiculed, and shall be scourged both by\nforeigners and citizens, and afterwards tortured and burnt; which you\nsaid were terrible things;\u2014and you spoke the truth. You may suppose that\nyou hear from me that they suffer all these things. But see if you will\nadmit what I say. Certainly, said he, for you say what is just.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 255:\n\n  That is to say, one of these through aptitude will receive the\n  illuminations of divinity, and the other through inaptitude will\n  subject himself to the power of avenging demons.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XIII.\u2014These then, said I, are the prizes, the rewards and gifts,\nwhich a just man receives during life, both from gods and men; besides\nthose good things which justice contains in itself. And they are\nextremely beautiful, said he, and permanent. But these now, said I, are\nnothing in number or magnitude, when compared with those which await\neach of the two at death. And these things must likewise be heard, that\neach of them may completely have what is their due in the reasoning. You\nmay say on, he replied, as to one who would not listen to many other\nthings with greater pleasure. But, however, I will not, said I, tell you\nthe apologue of Alcinous; but that, indeed, of a brave man, Er, the son\nof Armenius, by descent a Pamphylian; who happening on a time to die in\nbattle, when the dead were on the tenth day carried off, already\ncorrupted, was taken up sound; and being carried home, as he was about\nto be buried on the twelfth day, when laid on the funeral pile, revived;\nand being revived, he told what he saw in the other state, and said,\nthat after his soul left the body, it went with many others, and that\nthey came to a certain mysterious, hallowed place, where there were two\nchasms in the earth, near to each other, and two other openings in the\nheavens opposite on them, and that the judges sat between these;\u2014that\nwhen they gave judgment, they commanded the just to go on the right\nhand, and upwards through the heaven, having fitted marks on the front\nof those that had been judged; but the unjust they commanded to the\nleft, and downwards, and these likewise had behind them marks of all\nthat they had done. But when he came before the judges, they said he\nought to be a messenger to men concerning things there, and they\ncommanded him to hear, and contemplate everything therein;\u2014and that he\nsaw there, through two openings, one of the heaven, and one of the\nearth, the souls departing, after they were there judged; and through\nthe other two openings he saw, rising through the one out of the earth,\nsouls full of squalidness and dust; and through the other, he saw other\nsouls descending pure from heaven; and that on their arrival from time\nto time they seemed as if they came from a long journey, and that they\ngladly went to rest themselves in the meadow, as in a public assembly,\nand such as were acquainted saluted one another, and those who rose out\nof the earth asked the others concerning the things above, and those\nfrom heaven asked them concerning the things below, and that they told\none another: those wailing and weeping whilst they called to mind, what\nand how many things they suffered and saw in their journey under the\nearth (for it was a journey of a thousand years); and that these again\nfrom heaven explained their enjoyments, and spectacles of amazing\nbeauty.\u2014To narrate many of them, Glaucon, would occupy much time; but\nthis, he said, was the sum, that whatever unjust actions a man had\ncommitted, and whatever injuries a man had committed, they were punished\nfor all these separately tenfold, and that it was in each, according to\nthe rate of a hundred years (the life of man being considered as so\nlong), that they might suffer tenfold punishment for the injustice they\nhad done;\u2014so that if any had been the cause of many deaths, either by\nbetraying cities or armies, or bringing men into slavery, or being\nconfederates in any other wickedness, for each of all these they reaped\ntenfold sufferings; and if, again, they had benefited any by good deeds,\nand had been just and holy, they were rewarded according to their\ndeserts. Of those who died very young, and lived but a little time, he\nrelated other things not worth mentioning;\u2014but of impiety and piety\ntowards the gods and parents, and of suicide, he told the more\nremarkable retributions; for he said he was present when one was asked\nby another, where the great Arid\u00e6us was? This Arid\u00e6us had been tyrant in\na certain city of Pamphylia a thousand years before that time, and had\nkilled his aged father and elder brother, and had done many other\nunhallowed deeds, as was reported: and he said, that the one who was\nasked, replied: He neither comes, nor ever will come hither.\n\nCHAP. XIV.\u2014Well then we saw this likewise, among other dreadful\nspectacles: When we were near the mouth of the opening, and were about\nto ascend after having suffered everything else, we on a sudden beheld\nboth him, and others likewise, most of whom were tyrants, and there were\nsome private persons who had committed great iniquity, whom, when they\nthought they were to ascend, the mouth of the opening did not admit, but\nbellowed when any of those who were so polluted with wickedness, or who\nhad not been sufficiently punished, attempted to ascend. And then, said\nhe, fierce men, and fiery to look on, standing by, and perceiving the\nbellowing, took some of them and led them apart, but Arid\u00e6us and the\nrest, having bound their hands and feet, and head, they thrust down and\nflayed, and then dragged them to an outer road, tearing them on thorns;\ndeclaring always to those who passed by, on what accounts they suffered\nthese things, and that they were carrying them to be thrown into\nTartarus. And hence, he said, that amidst all their various terrors,\nthis terror surpassed, lest the mouth should bellow, and that when it\nwas silent every one most gladly ascended; and that the punishments and\ntorments were such as these, and their rewards were the reverse of\nthese. He also added, that every one arising thence, after they had been\nseven days in the meadow, was required to depart on the eighth day, and\narrive at another place on the fourth day after, whence they perceived\nfrom above through the whole heaven and earth, a light extended as a\npillar, mostly resembling the rainbow, but more splendid and pure; at\nwhich they arrived in one day\u2019s journey; and thence they perceived,\nthrough the middle of the light from heaven, the extremities of its\nligatures extended; as this light was the belt of heaven, like the\ntransverse beams of ships keeping the whole circumference united;\u2014that\nfrom the extremities the distaff of Necessity is extended, by which all\nthe revolutions were turned round, whose spindle and point were both of\nadamant, but its whirl commingled both with this and other things; and\nthat the nature of the whirl was of such a kind, as to its figure, as is\nany one we see here. But you must conceive it, from what he said, to be\nof such a kind as this: as if in some great hollow whirl, carved\nthroughout, there was such another, but lesser, within it, adapted to\nit, like casks fitted one within another; and in the same manner a\nthird, and a fourth, and four others, for that the whirls were\neight[256] in all, as circles one within another, having their lips\nappearing upwards, and forming round the spindle one united convexity of\none whirl; that the spindle was driven through the middle of the eight;\nand that the first and outmost whirl had the widest circumference in the\nlip, that the sixth had the second wide, and that of the fourth the\nthird wide, and the fourth that of the eighth, and the fifth that of the\nseventh, the sixth that of the fifth, and the seventh that of the third,\nand the eighth that of the second. Likewise that the circle of the\nlargest is variegated, that of the seventh is the brightest, and that of\nthe eighth has its colour from the shining of the seventh; those of the\nsecond and fifth resemble each other, but are more yellow than the rest.\nBut the third is bright white, the fourth reddish, the second in\nwhiteness surpasses the sixth; and the distaff must turn round in a\ncircle with the whole that it carries; and while the whole is turning\nround, the seven inner circles are gently turned round in a contrary\nmotion to the whole;\u2014again, that of these, the eighth moves the\nswiftest; and next to it, and equal to one another, the seventh, the\nsixth, and the fifth; and that the third went in a motion which as\nappeared to them completed its circle in the same way as the fourth. The\nfourth in swiftness was the third, and the fifth was the second, and it\nwas turned round on the knees of Necessity;\u2014and that on each of its\ncircles there was seated a Siren on the upper side, carried round, and\nuttering one voice variegated by diverse modulations; but that the whole\nof them, being eight, composed one harmony;\u2014that there were other three\nsitting round at equal distance one from another, each on a throne, the\ndaughters of Necessity, the Fates, clothed in white vestments, and\nhaving crowns on their heads; Lachesis, Clotho, and Atropos, singing to\nthe harmony of the Sirens; Lachesis singing the past, Clotho the\npresent, and Atropos the future. And that Clotho, at certain intervals,\nwith her right hand laid hold of the spindle, and along with her mother\nturned about the outer circle;\u2014and Atropos, in like manner, turned the\ninner ones with her left hand,\u2014and that Lachesis touched both of these,\nseverally, with either hand.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 256:\n\n  By the eight whirls, we must understand the eight starry spheres, viz.\n  the sphere of the fixed stars, and the spheres of the seven planets.\n\n-----\n\nCHAP. XV.\u2014After they arrive here, it is necessary for them to go\ndirectly to Lachesis. That then a certain prophet first of all ranges\nthem in order, and afterwards taking the lots, and the models of lives,\nfrom the knees of Lachesis, and ascending a lofty tribunal, he says:\u2014The\nspeech of the virgin Lachesis, the daughter of Necessity: Souls of a\nday! The beginning of another period of men of mortal race:\u2014the demon\nshall not receive you as his lot, but you shall choose the demon: he who\ndraws the first, let him first make choice of a life, to which he must\nof necessity adhere: Virtue is independent, of which every one shall\npartake, more or less, according as he honours or dishonours her: the\ncause is in him who makes the choice, and the Deity is blameless;\u2014that\nwhen he had said these things, he threw the lots on all of them, and\nthat each took up the one which fell beside him, except himself, for he\nwas not permitted; and that when each had taken it, he knew what number\nhe had drawn;\u2014that after this he placed on the ground before them the\nmodels of lives, many more than those we see at present;\u2014and that they\nwere all various,\u2014for there were lives of all sorts of animals, and\nhuman lives of every kind;\u2014and that among these there were tyrannies\nalso, some of them perpetual, and others destroyed in the midst of their\ngreatness, and ending in poverty, banishment, and want. That there were\nalso lives of renowned men, some for their appearance as to beauty,\nstrength, and agility; and others for their descent, and the virtues of\ntheir ancestors. There were the lives of renowned women in the same\nmanner. But that there was no disposition of soul among these models,\nbecause of necessity, on choosing a different life, it becomes different\nitself. As to other things, riches and poverty, sickness and health,\nthey were mixed with one another, and some were in a middle station\nbetween these.\n\nThere then, as it seems, friend Glaucon, is the whole danger of man. And\nhence this of all things is most to be attended to, how each of us,\nomitting other studies, is to become an inquirer and learner in this\nstudy, in order to be able to learn and find out who will make him\nexpert and intelligent to discern a good life, and a bad; and to choose\neverywhere, and at all times the best of what is possible, considering\nall that we have mentioned, both compounded and separated from one\nanother, what they are with respect to the virtue of life; and to\nunderstand what good or evil beauty produces when mixed with poverty, or\nriches, and with this or the other habit of soul; and what is effected\nby noble and ignoble descent, by privacy, and by public station, by\nstrength and weakness, docility and indocility, and everything else of\nthe kind which naturally pertains to the soul, and likewise of what is\nacquired, when blended one with another, so as to be able from all these\nthings to compute, and, having an eye to the nature of the soul, to\ncomprehend both the worse and the better life, pronouncing that to be\nthe worse which shall lead the soul to become more unjust, and that to\nbe the better life which shall lead it to become more just, and to\ndismiss every other consideration:\u2014for we have seen, that in life, and\nin death, this is the best choice. It is necessary, therefore, that a\nman should have this opinion firm as an adamant in him, when he departs\nto Hades, that there also he may be unmoved by riches, or any such\nevils, and may not, falling into tyrannies, and other such practices, do\nmany and incurable mischiefs, and himself suffer still greater: but may\nknow how to choose always the middle life, as to these things, and to\nshun the extremes on either hand, both in this life as far as is\npossible, and in the whole future. For thus man becomes happy.\n\nCHAP. XVI.\u2014At that time, therefore, the messenger from the other world\nfurther told how that the prophet spoke thus: Even to him who comes\nlast, if he chooses with judgment, and lives consistently, there is\nprepared a desirable life; not bad. Let neither him who is first be\nnegligent in his choice, not let him who is last despair. He said, that\nwhen the prophet had spoken these things, the first who drew a lot ran\ninstantly and chose the greatest tyranny, but through folly and\ninsatiableness had not sufficiently examined all things on making his\nchoice, but was ignorant that in this life there was this destiny, the\ndevouring of his own children, and other evils; and that afterwards,\nwhen he had considered it at leisure, he wailed and lamented his choice,\nnot having observed the admonitions of the prophet above\nmentioned;\u2014inasmuch as he did not accuse himself, as the author of his\nmisfortunes, but fortune and the demons, and everything rather than\nhimself. He added, that he was one of those who came from heaven, who\nhad in his former life lived in a regulated republic, and had been\nvirtuous by custom without philosophy; and that, in short, among these\nthere were not a few who came from heaven, as being unexercised in\ntrials; but most of those who came from earth, as they had endured\nhardships themselves, and had seen others in hardships, did not\nprecipitately make their choice. And hence, and through the fortune of\nthe lot, to most souls there was an exchange of good and evil things.\nSince, if one should always, whenever he comes into this life, soundly\nphilosophize, and the lot of election should not fall on him the very\nlast, it would seem, from what has been told us from thence, that he\nshall be happy not only here, but when he goes hence, and his journey\nhither back again shall not be earthy, and rugged, but smooth and\nheavenly. This spectacle, he said, was worthy to behold, in what manner\nthe several souls made choice of their lives; for it was pitiful and\nridiculous and wonderful to behold, as each for the most part chose\naccording to the habit of his former life; for he alleged, that he saw\nthe soul which was formerly the soul of Orpheus making choice of the\nlife of a swan, through hatred of womankind, being unwilling to be born\nof woman on account of the death he suffered from them. He saw likewise\nthe soul of Thamyris making choice of the life of a nightingale. And he\nsaw also a swan turning to the choice of human life; and other musical\nanimals in a similar manner, as is likely;\u2014and he saw also one soul,\nwhile making its choices, choosing the life of a lion; and it was the\nsoul of Telamonian Ajax, unwilling to become a man, because it\nrecollected the judgment given with reference to the armour;\u2014that he\nthen saw the soul of Agamemnon, which, in hatred also of the human kind,\nthrough his misfortunes, exchanged it for the life of an eagle: and that\nthe soul of Atalante, choosing her lot amidst the rest, and, having\nattentively observed the great honours paid to an athletic man, was\nunable to pass by this lot, but took it. Next to this, he saw the soul\nof Epeus the Panopean going into the nature of a skilful workwoman; and\nthat far off, among the last, he saw the soul of the buffoon Thersites\nassuming the ape. And that by chance he saw the soul of Ulysses, who had\ndrawn its lot last of all, going to make its choice: that in remembrance\nof its former toils, and tired of ambition, it went about a long time\nseeking the life of a private man of no business, and with difficulty\nfound it lying somewhere, neglected by the rest. And that on seeing this\nlife, it said, that it would have made the same choice even if it had\nobtained the first lot,\u2014and joyfully chose it. That in like manner the\nsouls of wild beasts went into men, and men again into beasts: the\nunjust changing into wild beasts, and the just into tame; and that they\nwere blended by all sorts of mixtures. After, therefore, all the souls\nhad chosen their lives according as they drew their lots, they all went\nin order to Lachesis, and that she gave to every one the demon he chose,\nand sent him along with him to be the guardian of his life, and the\naccomplisher of what he had chosen.\u2014That, first of all, he conducts the\nsoul to Clotho, to ratify under her hand, and by the whirl of the vortex\nof her spindle, the destiny it had chosen by lot: and, after being with\nher, he leads it back again to the spinning of Atropos, who makes the\ndestinies irreversible. And that from hence they proceed directly under\nthe throne of Necessity; and that, after he had passed by it, as all the\nothers passed, they all of them marched into the plain of Lethe amidst\ndreadful heat and scorching, for he said that it is void of trees and\neverything that the earth produces;\u2014that when night came on, they\nencamped beside the river Amelete, whose water no vessel contains.\u2014Of\nthis water all of them must necessarily drink a certain quantity, and\nsuch as are not kept by prudence drink more than they ought, and that he\nwho from time to time drinks forgets everything.\u2014And, after they were\nlaid asleep, and midnight was approaching, there was thunder, and an\nearthquake, and they were thence on a sudden carried upwards, some one\nway, and some another, approaching to generation like stars. And he\nhimself was forbidden to drink of the water. Where, however, and in what\nmanner, he came into his body, he was entirely ignorant; but, suddenly\nlooking up in the morning, he saw himself already laid on the funeral\npile. And this fable, Glaucon, has been preserved, and is not lost, and\nit will preserve us, too, if we be persuaded thereby, for thus we shall\nhappily pass over the river Lethe, and shall not pollute our souls.\n\nBut if the company will be persuaded by me; considering the soul to be\nimmortal, and able to bear all evil and good, we shall always persevere\nin the road which leads upwards, and shall by all means pursue justice\nin unison with prudence, that so we may be friends both to ourselves and\nthe gods, both whilst we remain here, and when we afterwards receive its\nrewards, like victors assembled together; and so, both here, and in that\njourney of a thousand years, which we have described, we shall be happy.\n\n\n          THE END OF THE TENTH AND LAST BOOK OF THE REPUBLIC.\n\n\n\n\n                      INTRODUCTION TO THE TIM\u00c6US.\n\nThe following Dialogue, _which comprises the detailed evolution of the\nphysical or cosmological doctrines of Plato_, is supposed to have taken\nplace on the day following that on which Socrates had been discussing\nwith the same party the nature of an ideal or pattern Republic; and\nthere is so far an internal connexion between the two dialogues, that\nboth will be found to contain the same doctrines of the Ideas (\u03b5\u1f34\u03b4\u03b7 or\n\u1f30\u03b4\u03ad\u03b1\u03b9) and the _Summum bonum_ (viz. \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f15\u03bd in contradistinction to \u03c4\u1f78\n\u03b3\u03b9\u03b3\u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd. Comp. Tim. ch. ix.), though presented under different\naspects,\u2014the former treating them in their relation to moral and\npolitical perfection, the latter physically and cosmologically,\ndisplaying the beauty, perfection, and benevolence of the Divine work in\nthe formation of the Universe and the organization of Man. The dialogue\nopens with a lively conversation on the political notions set forth by\nSocrates (or rather elicited by him from the rest) on the preceding day,\nmore especially with reference to their practicability in real life (ch.\ni.-iii.):\u2014and Critias, to gratify Socrates, introduces the narrative of\na long interview between Solon and some Egyptian priests, about the\nrelative antiquity of the Grecian and Egyptian annals, the object of\nwhich is to prove, that the state of Athens, in very remote times,\ncorresponded mainly with the picture of a perfect republic, as exhibited\nby Socrates (ch. iv.-vii.). The subject, however, is deemed worthy of\nstill further investigation by the different parties present; and the\nfirst turn is unanimously conceded to Tim\u00e6us, the Pythagorean, on\naccount of his profound knowledge of physics and astronomy, who\naccordingly entertains them with a long and learned discourse on the\norigin of the Universe and the formation of Man,\u2014Critias following him\nin the succeeding dialogue called by his name, wherein he tries to show\nthat the men here ideally created (\u03c4\u1ff7 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u1ff3 \u03b3\u03b5\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03cc\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2) by Tim\u00e6us, and\nbrought into civil training by Socrates in the Republic, actually\ncorresponded in character with the citizens of primitive Athens (ch.\nvii., viii.).\n\nIt is necessary to premise, however, before we enter into any analysis\nof Tim\u00e6us\u2019s discourse, that Plato, regarded as a _physical theorist_,\nwas not so much the propounder of new and original views, as a critic\nand eclecticist, reviewing the various systems that had preceded him,\nopposing what he deemed false or vicious, and adopting what he thought\ngood and solid in each. Now all the earlier philosophers, whether of\nIonia or Magna Gr\u00e6cia, had made it their first business to start\ndifferent theories, more or less visionary, on the origin of the\nUniverse. Thales held the primary element to be _water_, Anaximenes and\nDiogenes _air_, Anaximander a vast _chaos_, and Heraclitus _fire_,\u2014to\nwhom at length succeeded Anaxagoras, the first to recognise a _Supreme\nIntelligence_ (\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c2) as the principle of life and arranger of the\nprimitive chaotic atoms (and from whom Plato undoubtedly took some of\nhis leading notions). Widely differing from the above, Xenophanes\nmaintained _unity_ (\u03c4\u1f78 \u1f15\u03bd)\u2014_the Universe, to be God_,\u2014a notion, which\nelicited from Parmenides the atheistic dogma, that, as existence is\nconceivable, and non-existence is not so, _creation is impossible_, as\nit pre-supposes non-existence; and in this view he was followed by\nEmpedocles, who regarded all things as alike uncreated and\nindestructible. When such notions were current, it can scarcely be\nmatter for surprise that Heraclitus should have put forth the doctrine\n(equally atheistical) of _a perpetual flux_, and been followed by the\nsophist Protagoras, who stated that _all knowledge is sensation_, and\nthat _man is the measure of all existing things whatever_. And lastly,\nit was the notion of Pythagoras (with whose views Plato was beyond all\ndoubt deeply imbued), that _numbers_ and _music_ are the principles of\nthe entire universe, and that the world is regulated by _numerical\nharmony_.[257] With all these conflicting views before him, and having\nat the same time a strong internal conviction of one grand,\ncomprehensive, and intelligent Unity,\u2014in other words, God,\u2014Plato at once\nboldly impugned the doctrine of the Eleatics, that the world around was\nan eternal, immutable essence;\u2014maintaining, on the other hand, that, as\nit was sensible, it must have been produced, and was in fact the\nnecessary result of an effective cause,\u2014_the work of a rational,\nintelligent, and benevolent Architect_.\n\nTim\u00e6us, therefore, in this dialogue,\u2014after stating _in limine_ that\nthere are two classes of things, the one eternal, _constant_ (\u03c4\u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd),\nand not subject to change; the other _mutable_ (\u03b8\u03ac\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd), generated, and\nliable to decay: the former of which is comprehended by the intellect,\nthe latter by the senses,\u2014broadly sets forth the grand doctrine of\nTheism, that whatever is generated must proceed from some cause, namely\nGod, who formed the sensible universe, the most perfect of things\ngenerated, according to an eternal pattern existing in the Divine Mind\n(ch. ix.). The whole, indeed, was the work of the Creator\u2019s goodness;\nand the universe itself likewise was very good,\u2014as it were, an ensouled,\nrational, living being,\u2014perfect in unity, and composed of four elements\nindissolubly united,\u2014earth and fire, air and water,\u2014its shape being that\nof a perfect sphere moving in a circular orbit, and its soul emanating\nfrom its abode in the centre to all the other parts, including even the\nexternal surface,\u2014in fine, it came forth from its Maker deficient in no\nsingle respect, \u201ca blessed God\u201d (ch. x.-xii.).\n\nHe next proceeds to unfold the nature and structure of the Universe in\nits several parts. And first, he assumes it to consist of two parts,\u2014one\neternal and fixed, because related to the world of intellect; the other\ncorporeal, mutable, and capable of division,\u2014both of which are so united\non the principles of number and music, as to produce a happy and\nwell-settled harmony both in structure and motion. This universal soul,\nmoreover, pervades even the distant orbits of the fixed stars and\nplanets, all of which depend for their life and circular motion on the\neternal and constant principles of number and harmony,\u2014the fixed stars\nmoving _westward_ on the eternal principle of sameness, the planets\n_eastward_ on that of mutability and difference (ch. xii.). But in\nconnexion with this soul, the universe possesses also a material body,\nwhereby it becomes cognizant of material things,\u2014the subjects of opinion\nand persuasion, as well as of the abstract truths that form the\ngroundwork of reasoning and science (ch. xiii.).[258] Next came the\ncreation of _time_, which was effected by the formation of the sun,\nmoon, and five planets, whose motion, particularly that of the first,\ncreates, determines, and watches over, the several divisions of days and\nnights, months and perfect years (ch. xiv.). The form and motions of the\nworld thus once arranged, the Creator proceeds to people it with living\nbeings,\u2014first, the heavenly gods (_i. e._ the stars and other celestial\nbodies); secondly, airy and winged creatures; thirdly, those living in\nthe water; and lastly, those moving on the earth. The stars, indeed, are\ntermed a race of heavenly gods, yet generated and visible, endowed with\nfiery, spherical bodies, and called immortal, as not being subject to\ndissolution or decay (ch. xv.); but whether the earth itself is, like\nthe other bodies, to be considered an ensouled, generated god, and\nwhether at rest or in motion, is not exactly certain.\n\nNext follows a narrative, almost purely mythical, of the formation of\nthe mortal races of animals (ch. xvi.-xviii.), which the Supreme himself\ndoes not deign personally to create, but commits that task to the lower\ngods, reserving only the office of imparting to these new creatures\nwhatever was to be immortal in their constitution. A like number of\nthese perishable animals is assigned to each of the stars; and the first\nbirth being the same in all,\u2014that of the human male; nor was it till\nafter a fixed period, that the female and all other animals,\u2014beasts,\nfishes, and birds,\u2014issued from this mortal form. Of this being, Man,\nconsisting, like the universe, of body and soul mysteriously conjoined,\nTim\u00e6us next gives a detailed description, beginning with the head, which\ncontains the leading organs of sense (ch. xix., xx.); and he then\ndiverges into a long investigation of the elements of earthly bodies,\nparticularly as respects their geometric forms, as well also, as of\ntheir various affections, viz. motion or rest, heat or cold, heaviness\nor lightness, smell, colour, &c., the discussion of which must\nnecessarily precede any satisfactory account of the intellectual and\nphysical man (ch. xxi.-xlii.). Man, he proceeds to observe, is composed\nof a corruptible body enshrining an immortal soul; but besides this, he\npossesses an inferior sort of soul, whereby he becomes cognizant of the\nvarious passions and emotions, viz., pleasure and pain, hope, fear,\nanger, desire, &c.; and all the parts of his body are composed with\nwonderful skill, and yet kept in constant subjection to the dominance of\nreason and intellect:\u2014and he now parenthetically intimates the existence\nof two sets of causes,\u2014the _divine_ and _necessary_,\u2014as constantly\noperating together; of the former of which we can gain only a very\nimperfect knowledge (though for our happiness\u2019 sake we should ever\naspire thereto), while the latter we should investigate for the sake of\ngetting at the former (ch. xliii.).\n\nNext succeed separate and particular (though somewhat fanciful)\ndescriptions of the heart, lungs, stomach, liver, spleen, intestines,\nspinal marrow and brain, skull and bones, ligaments and tendons, muscles\nand flesh, the nerves round the head, teeth, tongue, lips, hair, skin,\npores, &c. &c., all of which are kept in healthy action by the united\noperation of the alimentary and respiratory systems (ch.\nxliv.-lxii.),\u2014the object of the whole of these speculations being to\nshow the existence of design and the adaptation of means to ends\nthroughout the work of creation. Now the regular, unimpeded, action of\nall these organs and component parts constitutes bodily health; whereas\nthe disorders and decay of the component elements of life are either\nproductive of disease or else slowly bring on old age and bodily decay\n(ch. lxii.). Then follow some curious details respecting the diseases of\nthe body, which are ascribed to many various causes, mostly\nfanciful,\u2014some few only real, formed on a knowledge of the human frame\n(ch. lxiii.-lxviii.). Far more important, however, and far more severe,\nare the diseases of the soul; and these are assigned to two\ncauses,\u2014first, bodily infirmity, and secondly, improper training, it\nbeing a vulgar error to suppose that any one is willingly evil. The\ngreat, and indeed only disease of the soul, is madness, which assumes\ntwo forms,\u2014madness (\u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03af\u03b1), and folly or idiocy (\u1f00\u03bc\u03b1\u03b8\u03af\u03b1), both caused by\nthe unhealthy predominance of the animal passions over the reason and\nconscience. Great care must therefore be observed constantly to maintain\nthe _mens sana in corpore sano_, to attend diligently to both, without\nneglecting either,\u2014to form the body by constant and suitable exercise as\nwell as strict temperance, and to cultivate the soul by engaging the\nintellect in the contemplation of divine things and eternal truth,\nincluding those heavenly revolutions with which the human soul also has\na close relation and harmony (ch. lxix.-lxxi.).\n\nThe concluding chapters of the dialogue comprise some observations on\nthe origin of the lower animals, from which it appears that Plato\nentertained the Pythagorean doctrine of the transmigration of souls; for\nhe thinks it probable that those who have lived unrighteously and\neffeminately will, at their second birth, be changed into women,\u2014those\nof both sexes who have lived innocently but frivolously, foolishly\nbelieving that heavenly things could be seen by mortal eye, being\nchanged into birds of the air; those, thirdly, who have been totally\nestranged from philosophy, into beasts of the earth; and those,\nfourthly, who are to the last degree foolish and ignorant, becoming mere\nfishes, creatures of the water, to whom the gods that formed them have\ndenied even the privilege of breathing a thin and pure atmosphere (ch.\nlxxii., lxxiii., compared with ch. xvii., where he touches, though more\nbriefly, on the same philosophic dogma). Lastly, the whole dialogue\nconcludes with a brief, but elegant summary of the great doctrine, of\nwhich the philosopher has exhibited throughout it so many satisfactory\nproofs,\u2014that \u201cthis world, which comprises and is filled with all kinds\nof living beings, both mortal and immortal, thus becomes a visible\nanimal embracing visible natures,\u2014an image of the great Intelligence,\u2014a\nsensible god,\u2014the greatest and best, the fairest and most perfect,\u2014this\nthe one and only begotten Universe.\u201d\n\nSuch is a succinct account of the leading arguments of the Tim\u00e6us,\nwhich, both as respects language and deep philosophic matter, is by far\nthe most difficult of any of Plato\u2019s dialogues,\u2014there being many\npassages in it, which still in fact puzzle even the most ingenious of\nits commentators. The reader who would seek further information than can\nbe afforded within the limits of a translation, is referred to\nTiedemann\u2019s Introductions to the Platonic Dialogues, to Stallbaum\u2019s\nProlegomena and notes to his edition of the Tim\u00e6us, to Ritter\u2019s remarks\non the physical doctrines of Plato (vol. ii. pp. 338-384), and, above\nall, to the valuable notes and dissertations in Martin\u2019s _Etudes sur le\nTim\u00e9e de Platon_, 2 vols. 8vo. 1842.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 257:\n\n  The reader is referred for further information on the pre-Socratic\n  theories of nature, to Stallbaum\u2019s Prolegomena to the Tim\u00e6us, pp.\n  48-54; as well as to Introductions to the Protagoras and The\u0153tetus, in\n  vol. i. of this translation.\n\nFootnote 258:\n\n  Plato, in ch. xxiii. designates _matter_ as the receptacle, and, as it\n  were, the nurse (\u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03b4\u03bf\u03c7\u1f74\u03bd, \u03bf\u1f37\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03b8\u03ae\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd) of all production; while God,\n  on the other hand,\u2014the sum of all ideas,\u2014is the Father and fashioner\n  of the Universe. In ch. xxvi. also, it is described as one and the\n  same with space, which furnishes a place for all generated things.\n  This principle of nature, therefore, is without form,\u2014without _an\n  idea_; and it is only in the productions of the creative energy and\n  the all-susceptible nature,\u2014that is, in the son of the father and\n  mother,\u2014that there is form and determinate idea. This is clearly laid\n  down in ch. xxiv.; and Ritter accordingly very rightly\n  observes:\u2014\u201cMatter is nothing more than the condition of all human\n  existence, which, however, is a necessary condition, and so causes the\n  _natural_ itself to appear as _necessary_; whereas the shape received\n  from the good is that which under this condition comes into being and\n  has its actual existence in nature.\u201d\u2014(Ritter, ii. p. 341, compared\n  with ch. xliii. of this Dialogue.)\n\n-----\n\n\n                              THE TIM\u00c6US.\n\n                                \u2014\u2014\u2014\u25cf\u2014\u2014\u2014\n\n                SOCRATES, TIM\u00c6US, CRITIAS, HERMOCRATES.\n\n\nI.\u2014SOC. One, two, three:\u2014but where, dear Tim\u00e6us, is that fourth of us\nwho yesterday were your guests, but are entertainers now?\n\nTIM. Some illness has befallen him, Socrates; for he would not willingly\nhave missed such a meeting as the present.\n\nSOC. It is your business, then, of yourself, and [that of] these\npresent, to fill up the place of the absent guest.\n\nTIM. Quite so, Socrates; and, as far as we can, we will not fail to do\nso: for it would be unjust for the rest of us, whom you yesterday so\nhandsomely entertained, not to treat you with readiness in return.\n\nSOC. Do you recollect, then, the magnitude and nature of the things on\nwhich I charged you to speak?\n\nTIM. Some, indeed, we do recollect; but what we do not, you, who were\npresent, can recal to our memory: or rather, if it be not too much\ntrouble, once more briefly run over the whole from the beginning, that\nit may be the more firmly established in our minds.\n\nSOC. Be it so. The sum of yesterday\u2019s discussion respecting a republic\nwas, what form I thought the best, and of what sort of men it should be\ncomposed.\n\nTIM. And indeed, Socrates, all that you said was quite according to our\nmind.\n\nSOC. Did we not in the first place separate the class of husbandmen, and\never so many other artificers, from that of those who fight in defence\nof the state?\n\nTIM. Yes.\n\nSOC. And when we had assigned to every one that single employment which\nwas suited to his own nature, and had prescribed to each his particular\nart, we bade the military caste confine themselves to the simple duty of\nprotecting the state from the hostile incursions both of internal and\nexternal foes;\u2014mildly to administer justice to their subjects, as being\nnaturally friends, but fiercely to combat with such foes as might fall\nin their way.\n\nTIM. Quite so, of course.\n\nSOC. We asserted, I think, that the souls of the guardians should be\nnaturally high-spirited, and at the same time remarkably philosophic, so\nas to enable them towards either friends or foes respectively to be\ngentle or severe.\n\nTIM. You did so.\n\nSOC. But what about their training? Did we not say that they ought to be\ninstructed in gymnastic exercises, music, and other suitable branches of\nscience?\n\nTIM. Yes.\n\nSOC. With respect at least to those thus trained, it was somehow said,\nthat they should regard neither gold nor silver nor any such property,\nas their own private possession, but rather, like subordinates, should\nreceive the wages of their guardianship from those whom they defend and\npreserve, their recompense being no more than sufficient for temperate\nmen, and that they should spend their income in common, with a view only\nto mutual subsistence, bestowing their attention wholly on virtue, in\npreference to every other pursuit.\n\nTIM. This too was so stated.\n\nII.--SOC. Respecting women, too, we asserted that their nature should be\naptly conformed to resemble that of men, and that they should all engage\nin common with them, both in the duties of war and the other employments\nof life.\n\nTIM. This too you alleged.\n\nSOC. But what about the procreation of children? This perhaps you easily\nremember, on account of the novelty of the proposal; for we ordered that\nmarriage-unions and children should be in common to all persons\nwhatsoever, special care being taken also that no one should be able to\ndistinguish his own children individually, but all consider all as their\nkindred; regarding those of an equal age, and in the prime of life, as\ntheir brothers and sisters,\u2014those prior to them, and yet further back,\nas parents and grandsires,\u2014and those below them, as their children and\ngrandchildren.[259]\n\nTIM. Aye,\u2014these things too, in the way you describe them, are easily\nremembered.\n\nSOC. That they might at once acquire then the best possible natural\ndisposition, I recollect that we decreed that the rulers, male and\nfemale, whom we placed over the marriage contract, should secretly\ncontrive, through certain lots, that the worthy should assort only with\nthe worthy, the base with the base,\u2014and that no discord might arise from\nthis connexion, we should refer all the blame of the union to fortune\nalone.\n\nTIM. This, too, we remember.\n\nSOC. We ordered, moreover, that the children of the good should be\nproperly trained, but those of the bad secretly sent to the other part\nof the state, while of those who are constantly arriving at manhood,\nsuch as are found to be of a good disposition, should be recalled from\nexile; those, among them, on the contrary, who have proved themselves\nunworthy, being in their turn banished to the place occupied by those\njust promoted.\n\nTIM. Just so.\n\nSOC. Have we, then, sufficiently summed up yesterday\u2019s discussion; or do\nwe need anything further, friend Tim\u00e6us, that has been omitted?\n\nTIM. By no means, Socrates; for these were the very things discussed.\n\nIII.\u2014SOC. You shall now hear some further details respecting the\nrepublic that we have described, and how I feel towards it. The feeling,\nthen, seems to me somewhat similar to this,\u2014as if some one, on beholding\nbeautiful animals, either wrought by the graver\u2019s art, or really alive,\nbut in a state of perfect rest, were to entertain a desire to behold\nthem in motion, struggling, as it were, in those exercises which seem\nbest suited to their bodies. Just the same do I feel towards that form\nof state which we have described; for I should gladly listen to any one\nwho recited the story of the contests that one state engages in with\nothers, when it ventures becomingly on war, and exhibits in the course\nof it a conduct worthy of its nurture and training, as regards both\nactive encounters and verbal negotiations with individual states. On\nthese points, indeed, Critias and Hermocrates, I am conscious of my own\ninability to praise the men and the state according to their desert; and\nthat I should be so incapable is no wonder, as I have formed the same\nopinion respecting the poets both of the past and present age;\u2014not that\nI despise the poet-tribe, but still every one must see, that being an\nimitative race, they most easily and in the best manner imitate those\nthings in which they have been trained; while, on the contrary, whatever\nis unconnected with their training, is hard for them to imitate well\neven in actions, and in words even yet more difficult. And as for the\ntribe of Sophists, I deem them indeed mighty clever, both in multiplying\nwords and many other fine accomplishments; yet I fear, as they have no\nsettled abode, but wander through various cities, and dwell in no abode\nof their own, they will form false conjectures respecting both\nphilosophers and politicians, as to the magnitude and nature both of the\nactions which they achieve in war, and of the words they employ in their\nmutual intercourse. The only people remaining, then, to whom I can\napply, are those of your character and habit, versed both by nature and\ntraining in philosophy and political science. For Tim\u00e6us here of Locris,\nin Italy, which is governed by the best of laws,[260] being withal not\ninferior to any of his fellow-citizens in wealth and nobility, has in\nhis own state attained to the highest official honours, and has likewise\nin my opinion reached the summit of all philosophy. Critias, too, as we\nall know, is not ignorant of the particulars that we are now\nmentioning;\u2014and respecting Hermocrates also, we have ample testimony for\nthe belief that he is both by nature and education well suited to all\nthese pursuits.[261] Hence, when I perceived yesterday your great\nanxiety to discuss the formation of a republic, I was much pleased at\nit, being well aware, that if you pleased, none could better unfold the\nsuccessive points for discussion;\u2014inasmuch as, by properly adapting the\nstate for warlike purposes, you would be the only person in the present\nage who could supply it with all things becoming its constitution.\nHaving spoken, then, in compliance with your request, I now require you,\nin your turn, to comply with mine; and, as a matter of course, you have\nagreed to carry on the discussion among yourselves in common and so\nforthwith repay my hospitality with the feast of reasoning. Here,\ntherefore, am I arrayed for the purpose, and readiest of all to partake\nof the promised banquet.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 259:\n\n  This subject is considered at some length in the third, fourth, and\n  fifth books of the Republic, as well as in the Laws, v. 739, b.\n\nFootnote 260:\n\n  Its code was formed by Zaleucus, and it was said by the Syracusans to\n  be the best governed of all the Greek cities of Italy. Comp. the Laws,\n  i. 638.\n\nFootnote 261:\n\n  Critias was a man of a generous, vigorous-minded disposition, who was\n  so fond of the company of philosophers, that he was said to be \u1f30\u03b4\u03b9\u03ce\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2\n  \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03cc\u03c6\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2, \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03cc\u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f10\u03bd \u1f30\u03b4\u03b9\u03ce\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2. He was afterwards one of\n  the thirty tyrants, and Socrates\u2019 most bitter enemy. Hermocrates was a\n  celebrated Syracusan general, several times alluded to by Thucydides\n  and Xenophon, and who made a vow to live by certain rules (\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\n  \u03b6\u1fc6\u03bd \u1f10\u03c6\u03b9\u03ad\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2).\n\n-----\n\nIV.\u2014HERM. Aye, truly, Socrates, as Tim\u00e6us here just observed, neither\nwill we lack zeal in fulfilling your desire; nor will we offer any\nexcuse for neglecting it; since only yesterday, just after leaving this,\nwhen we went to the lodging of Critias, where both there and before that\non the way thither, we discussed this very subject. He here then\nunfolded to us a story from ancient tradition, which\u2014prythee, Critias,\neven now repeat to Socrates, that he may judge whether or not it\nconcerns his demand.\n\nCRI. This we must surely do, if agreeable to Tim\u00e6us, our third partner\nin this discussion.\n\nTIM. I, for my part, fully consent.\n\nCRI. Listen now then, Socrates, to a story very strange indeed, yet in\nevery respect true, as it was once related by Solon, the wisest of the\nseven [sages of Greece]. He was the kinsman and intimate friend of our\ngreat-grandfather Dropides, as he himself often tells us in his poems;\nand he (Dropides) informed our grandfather Critias (as the old man\nhimself in turn told us), that this state had formerly achieved great\nand admirable actions, the knowledge of which nevertheless had been lost\nthrough lapse of time and the decay of mankind,\u2014one act in particular\nbeing more illustrious than the rest,\u2014in remembrance of which it were\nfitting, that we should not only return you thanks, but also in full\nassembly hymn forth to the goddess our true and just acclaim of praise.\n\nSOC. Well observed:\u2014but what is this achievement, which Critias\ndescribed as having been not only related by Solon, but really\naccomplished by this state in days of yore?\n\nCRI. I will acquaint you with that ancient story, which I indeed\nreceived from no mere youth; for at that time Critias, as he himself\nsaid, was almost ninety years old, and I myself about ten; and it\nchanced then to be the time of the _Cureotis Apaturiorum_.[262] The boys\nindeed were then going through the ceremonies customary with them at\nthis festival;\u2014for our parents proposed prizes for singing verses; and\ntherefore a multitude of verses of many poets were recited, and many of\nus especially sang the poems of Solon, as being at that time new. Then\none of our tribe, whether it was his real opinion or he wished to\ngratify Critias, said he thought Solon not only the wisest of men in\nmatters generally, but as regards poetry the most noble of all poets. On\nhearing this, the old man (for I well remember it) was exceedingly\npleased, and said, laughing\u2014\u2018If Solon, oh Amynander, had not considered\npoetry as a mere amusement, but made it, as others do, a serious\nemployment, and so completed the history which he had brought from\nEgypt; and, had not been forced to relinquish it by the seditions and\nnumerous other troubles in which he found his country involved, I do not\nthink that either Hesiod, Homer, or any other poet, would have acquired\nmore distinguished renown.\u2019 \u2018And what was that story, Critias?\u2019 asked\nhe. \u2018One about an action,\u2019 replied he, \u2018the greatest and most\ncelebrated, which this state ever achieved; although, through lapse of\ntime and the death of those by whom it was undertaken, its fame has not\ndescended to our own day.\u2019 \u2018Tell it,\u2019 said he, \u2018from the beginning; and\nsay what that was, which Solon asserted as true, as well as how and from\nwhom he heard it.\u2019\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 262:\n\n  The _Apaturia_, according to Proclus and Suidas, were festivals in\n  honour of Dionysus, publicly celebrated for the space of three days;\n  and they were assigned this name, \u03b4\u03b9\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u03ac\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd, that is, on account of\n  the deception through which Poseidon is reported to have vanquished\n  Xanthus. The first day of these festivals was called \u03b4\u03cc\u03c1\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1, in\n  which, as the name indicates, those of the same tribe feasted\n  together; and hence (says Proclus) on this day \u03b5\u1f50\u03c9\u03c7\u03af\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c0\u03bd\u03b1\n  \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac, splendid banquets and much feasting took place:\u2014the second day\n  was called \u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u1fe5\u1fe5\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, _a sacrifice_, because many victims were\n  sacrificed in it; the victims being called \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u1fe4\u1fe5\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1:\u2014the third day,\n  of which Plato speaks in this place, was called \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b5\u03ce\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, because on\n  this day \u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, that is, boys or girls, were collected to have their\n  names registered in their tribes (\u03c6\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03b9:)\u2014to these some add a\n  fourth day, which they call \u1f10\u03c0\u03af\u03b2\u03b4\u03b1, or _the day after_.\n\n-----\n\nV.\u2014\u2018In Egypt,\u2019 said he, \u2018in the Delta, about the summit of which the\nstreams of the Nile are divided, is the district (\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2) surnamed\nSaitical; the chief city of which is Sais, whence also came the king\nAmasis; and it had a presiding divinity, whose name is in the Egyptian\ntongue _Neith_, which they say corresponds with the Greek _Athena_; and\nthe people profess to be great friends of the Athenians, and united with\nthem in a sort of close alliance. Solon said that on his arrival\nthither, he was very honourably received; and, especially, on his\ninquiring about ancient affairs of those priests who possessed superior\nknowledge in such matters, he perceived that neither himself nor any one\nof the Greeks (so to speak) had any antiquarian knowledge at all. And\nonce on a time desirous of inducing them to narrate their ancient\nstories, he undertook to describe those events which had formerly\nhappened among us in days of yore,\u2014those about the first Phoroneus and\nNiobe, and again after the deluge of Deucalion and Pyrrha (as described\nby the mythologists), together with their posterity, paying due\nattention to the different ages in which these events are said to have\noccurred:\u2014on which one of their extremely ancient priests exclaimed,\n\u201cSolon, Solon, you Greeks are always children, and aged Greek there is\nnone.\u201d Solon, on hearing this, replied, \u201cHow can you say this?\u201d To whom\nthe priest, \u201cYou are all youths in intelligence; for you hold no ancient\nopinions derived from remote tradition, nor any system of discipline\nthat can boast of a hoary old age:\u2014and the cause of this is the\nmultitude and variety of destructions that have been and will be\nundergone by the human race, the greater indeed arising from fire and\nwater, others of less importance from ten thousand other contingencies.\nThe story, for instance, that is current among you, that Phaeton, the\noffspring of the Sun, once attempting to drive his father\u2019s chariot, and\nnot being able to keep the track observed by his parent, burnt up the\nsurface of the earth, and perished himself, blasted by lightning, is\ngenerally regarded as fabulous, but in point of fact it refers to a\ndeclination (or parallax) of the heavenly bodies revolving round the\nearth, and indicates that, at certain long intervals of time, the\nearth\u2019s surface is destroyed by mighty fires.[263] When this occurs,\nthen those who dwell either on mountains, or in lofty and dry places,\nperish in greater numbers than those dwelling near rivers, or on the\nsea-shore;\u2014whereas to us the Nile is not only our safeguard from all\nother troubles, but liberates and preserves us also from this in\nparticular;\u2014and again when the gods, to purify the earth, deluge its\nsurface with water, then the herdsmen and shepherds on the mountains are\npreserved in safety, while the inhabitants of your cities are hurried\naway to the sea, by the impetuosity of the rivers. In this our country,\non the other hand, the waters neither then fell, nor ever have fallen\nfrom above upon the plains, but on the contrary are naturally driven\nupwards from the earth\u2019s interior:\u2014and to these causes it is owing, that\nthe most ancient things are said to be here preserved. The truth is,\nhowever, that in all places where there is neither intense cold nor\nimmoderate heat, the race of man is always found to exist, sometimes in\nless, sometimes in greater number. And all the noble, great, or\notherwise distinguished achievements, performed either by ourselves, or\nby you, or elsewhere, of which we have heard the report,\u2014all these have\nbeen engraven in our temples in very remote times, and preserved to the\npresent day; while, on the contrary, with you and all other nations,\nthey are only just committed to writing, and all other modes of\ntransmission which states require,\u2014when again, at the usual period, a\ncurrent from heaven rushes on them like a pestilence, and leaves the\nsurvivors among you both destitute of literary attainments and\nunacquainted with music;\u2014and thus you become young again, as at first,\nknowing nothing of the events of ancient times, either in our country or\nyours. As for the transactions, indeed, Solon, which you have just\nrelated from your antiquities, they differ but little from puerile\nfables:\u2014for in the first place you only mention one deluge of the earth,\nwhereas there had been many before; and in the next place you are\nunacquainted with that most noble and excellent race of men, who once\ninhabited your country, from whom you and your whole present state are\ndescended, though only a small remnant of this admirable people is now\nremaining,\u2014your ignorance in this matter resulting from the fact that\ntheir posterity for many generations died without the power of speech\nthrough the medium of letters;[264] for long before the chief deluge, a\ncity of Athenians existed, regulated by the best laws both in military\nand all other matters, whose noble deeds and civil institutions are said\nto have been the most excellent of all that we have heard to exist under\nheaven.\u201d\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 263:\n\n  It was the opinion of Heraclitus and many of the old philosophers,\n  that the earth would be periodically destroyed by fire or water. The\n  notion was borrowed, perhaps, from the Egyptians. (Comp. Herod. ii.\n  ch. 142.)\n\n-----\n\nVI.\u2014\u2018Solon, on hearing this, expressed his admiration, and exhibited the\nmost ardent desire, entreating the priests to relate to him accurately\nand in order the whole history of his ancient fellow-citizens. And then\none of the priests replied, \u201cI have no objection, Solon; and for your\nsake, and that of your city, I will relate the whole, and more\nparticularly on account of that goddess, to whom is assigned the\nguardianship both of your state and ours, and by whom both have been\nfounded and fostered; yours indeed having a priority over ours of a\nthousand years, from having received its origin from Heph\u00e6stus and the\nEarth; and the annals even of our own city [Sais] have been preserved\neight thousand years in our sacred writings. I will briefly describe,\nthen, the laws and more illustrious actions of those states which have\nexisted nine thousand years; and when we are more at leisure, we will\ntake the sacred writings themselves, and recount an exact history of\nevery particular.\n\n\u2018\u201cNow, consider the laws of these people, as compared with those\nprevailing here; for you will find here even at the present day many\nexamples of institutions that formerly existed in your city. First of\nall, the priests passed their life separate from all the rest; and next,\nthe artificers so exercised their crafts, that each followed his own\nemployment without mingling with any other class of workmen. The same\nmethod was likewise adopted with shepherds, hunters, and husbandmen. The\nsoldiers, too, you will find, were separated from other kinds of men,\nand were enjoined by the laws to engage in nothing but war. The armour,\ntoo, which each employed, such as shields and darts, resembled that\nwhich we used first of all the Asiatics,\u2014the goddess in those places, as\nshe did to you, first pointing out their use. Again, with respect to\nwisdom, you may perceive what attention the law paid to it even from the\nfirst, as likewise to all that respects the universe, including even\ndivination and medicine, that conduces to the preservation of health;\nand from these, which are divine things, the inquiry proceeds to human\naffairs and all other branches of learning therewith connected. Such\nthen was the principle of distribution and arrangement on which the\ngoddess first founded and established your state, choosing for that\npurpose the place in which you were born; because she foresaw that from\nits excellent temperature, the region would produce men of the most\nconsummate wisdom; and, the goddess, of course, being a lover both of\nwisdom and war, selected a spot likely to produce men most resembling\nherself; and fixed on this first as their settled abode. You proceeded\nto settle, then, under the protection of such like laws, and what is\nmore, under good government, surpassing all men likewise in every\nvirtue, as becomes the descendants and disciples of the gods.\n\n\u2018\u201cMany and mighty deeds of your state, then, are here recorded in\nwriting [in our sacred records,] and call forth our admiration;\nnevertheless there is one in particular, which in magnitude and valour\nsurpasses them all;\u2014for these writings relate what a prodigious force\nyour city once overcame, when a mighty warlike power, rushing from the\nAtlantic sea, spread itself with hostile fury over all Europe and Asia.\nThat sea indeed was then navigable, and had an island fronting that\nmouth which you in your tongue call the Pillars of Hercules; and this\nisland was larger than Libya and Asia put together; and there was a\npassage hence for travellers of that day to the rest of the islands, as\nwell as from those islands to the whole opposite continent that\nsurrounds that the real sea. For as respects what is within the mouth\nhere mentioned, it appears to be a bay with a kind of narrow entrance;\nand that sea is indeed a true sea, and the land that entirely surrounds\nit may truly and most correctly be called a continent. In this Atlantic\nisland, then, was formed a powerful league of kings, who subdued the\nentire island, together with many others, and parts also of the\ncontinent; besides which they subjected to their rule the inland parts\nof Libya, as far as Egypt, and Europe also, as far as Tyrrhenia. The\nwhole of this force, then, being collected in a powerful league,\nundertook at one blow to enslave both your country and ours, and all the\nland besides that lies within the mouth. This was the period, Solon,\nwhen the power of your state was universally celebrated for its virtue\nand strength;\u2014for, surpassing all others both in magnanimity and\nmilitary skill, sometimes taking the lead of the Greek nation, at others\nleft to itself by the defection of the rest, and brought into the most\nextreme danger, it still prevailed, raised the trophy over its\nassailants, kept from slavery those not as yet enslaved, insured\nlikewise the most ample liberty for all of us without exception who\ndwell within the Pillars of Hercules. Subsequently, however, through\nviolent earthquakes and deluges which brought desolation in a single day\nand night, the whole of your warlike race[265] was at once merged under\nthe earth; and the Atlantic island itself was plunged beneath the sea,\nand entirely disappeared;\u2014whence even now that sea is neither navigable\nnor to be traced out, being blocked up by the great depth of mud[266]\nwhich the subsiding island produced.\u2019\u201d[267]\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 264:\n\n  Gr. \u03b3\u03c1\u03ac\u03bc\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u1fb6\u03bd \u1f00\u03c6\u03ce\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, which can only be paraphrastically\n  rendered.\n\nFootnote 265:\n\n  \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u2019 \u1f51\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u03bc\u03ac\u03c7\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd. So reads Stallbaum, on the authority of several\n  MSS., the old reading being \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u2019 \u1f51\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bd, which is retained by Bekker.\n\nFootnote 266:\n\n  Gr. \u03c0\u03b7\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03ba\u03ac\u03c1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b2\u03b1\u03b8\u03ad\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03b4\u1f7c\u03bd \u1f44\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2. The old reading is \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b2\u03c1\u03b1\u03c7\u03ad\u03bf\u03c2.\n  We have here followed Bekker\u2019s emendation.\n\nFootnote 267:\n\n  The whole of the story about the Atlantic isles, so much canvassed by\n  the critics, is so improbable and so at variance with the geographical\n  knowledge of the Greeks, even in Plato\u2019s time, that it can only be\n  considered as a mere myth. See Martin\u2019s admirable remarks, _\u00c9tudes sur\n  le Tim\u00e9e_.\n\n-----\n\nVII.\u2014The above, O Socrates, is the sum of what the elder Critias\nrepeated from the narration of Solon:\u2014and when yesterday you were\ndiscoursing about a republic and the citizens composing it, I was\nreminded to my surprise of what I have now mentioned; for I perceived\nhow divinely, as it were, by a kind of good luck, and without wandering\nfrom the mark, you in most respects coincided with Solon\u2019s statement.\nStill I was unwilling to disclose these particulars immediately; since,\nfrom the long lapse of time since I first heard them, I did not remember\nthem with sufficient accuracy [for repetition]. I considered, therefore,\nthat I ought, before relating it, first of all to rehearse the whole\ndiligently to myself. And this was why I yesterday speedily complied\nwith your demands, conceiving, as is most important in such matters,\nthat we ought not to lack ability to present a discourse suited to the\nobject in view. Hence was it, as Hermocrates here observed, that as soon\nas we left here yesterday, I brought up the subject before my friends\nhere, in order to refresh my memory; and by afterwards meditating on it\nat night, I acquired nearly a complete recollection of the whole story.\nAccording to the proverb, indeed, what we learn in childhood takes a\nwonderful hold on the memory:\u2014for with respect to myself, for instance,\nI am not certain that I could recall the whole of yesterday\u2019s discourse,\nthough I should be very much astonished if anything that I had heard a\nvery long time ago were to escape my remembrance. What I then heard,\nindeed, was listened to with great pleasure and delight; and the old man\nvery readily recounted it, even when I frequently asked for a\nrepetition; and thus the story became like the brands of indelible\nwriting fixed in my memory. Well then, as soon as it was day I repeated\nthe narrative to my friends, that they might aid me in fairly recounting\nmy story. Now, therefore, as respects the object of all that has been\nsaid, Socrates, I am prepared to relate, not only the general heads, but\nthe particulars also of all that I heard. As for the citizens and state\nwhich you described to us yesterday as in a fable, we will now convert\nit into a reality, and consider the state established by you as no other\nthan this [of Athens,] and the citizens which you described as no other\nthan those real ancestors of ours, alluded to by the Egyptian priests.\nIndeed they will harmonize in every respect; and we shall not be far\nfrom the mark[268] in asserting that your citizens are the very people\nwho existed at that time. Each taking our share then in this discussion,\nwe will try our utmost to bestow suitable attention to the task that you\nhave assigned us. It is requisite therefore to consider, O Socrates,\nwhether this narrative answers our purpose,[269] or we should seek some\nother in its stead.\n\nSOC. And what other, O Critias, can we receive in preference to this,\nwhich, from its affinity, is extremely suitable to the festival of the\ngoddess, and has the all-important merit of being not a cunningly\ndevised fable, but a true history? It is impossible, therefore, to say,\nhow and whence, if we abandon your narrative, we should find another\nmore suitable. We cannot; but must acknowledge that you have been happy\nin your narration; and, as for me, after my discourse of yesterday, I\nwill now rest, and be in my turn a listener.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 268:\n\n  Gr. \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f00\u03c0\u1fb3\u03c3\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1, _lit. we shall not sing out of tune_. The old\n  reading is \u1f00\u03c0\u03c9\u03c3\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1, which is untranslatable.\n\nFootnote 269:\n\n  Gr. \u03b5\u1f30 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd \u1f41 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u03bf\u1f57\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n-----\n\nVIII.\u2014CRI. Consider then, Socrates, the arrangement of this banquet of\nyours, how we settled it. For we think it right that Tim\u00e6us, who is the\nmost astronomical of us all, and has bestowed much pains in acquainting\nhimself with the nature of the universe, should be the first to\ndiscourse to us, beginning from the creation of the world, and ending\nwith the nature of men;\u2014and also that I after him, receiving from him,\nas it were, the men which have been ideally produced\u2014and some of them,\ntoo, excellently educated by you,\u2014should introduce them among us here,\naccording to the word and law of Solon, as to proper judges, and make\nthem members of this city; as being really those very Athenians of\nbygone days, which were described as unknown to us in the report of the\nsacred writings;\u2014and so, in future, we will treat them in our discourse\nas citizens and Athenians.\n\nSOC. I am now, it seems, to be plentifully and splendidly entertained in\nmy turn with a banquet of arguments:\u2014it is for you, then, O Tim\u00e6us, to\nbegin the discourse, having first of all invoked the gods according to\nthe usual custom.\n\nTIM. Well, Socrates, this at any rate is true,\u2014that those who have even\nthe least share of wisdom, always invoke the deity on entering every\nundertaking, whether small or great; and so we likewise (unless we be in\nevery respect unwise) who are now about to speak concerning the\nuniverse, whether it be generated or without generation, shall (if we be\nnot very unwise) make it our first duty to invoke the gods and\ngoddesses, and pray that what we speak may be first of all pleasing to\nthem, and also in consistence with ourselves. And as respects the\ninvocation of the gods, so have I acted for myself; while as respects\nourselves, we must lead you by that way which you may most easily\nunderstand, and which will best enable me to explain my meaning about\nthe proposed subjects of discussion.\n\nIX.\u2014I think we ought, in the first place, to define what that is which\nis _ever-existent_, and has no generation; and what that is which is _in\na state of generation_ or becoming, but never really _is_. The former of\nthese, indeed, which is apprehended by reflection united with reason,\nalways subsists according to _sameness_;[270]\u2014while the latter is\nperceived by opinion united with irrational perception; since it\nsubsists in a state of generation and corruption, and never really is.\nAnd, again, whatever is generated is necessarily generated from a\ncertain cause; for it is wholly impossible that anything should be\ngenerated without a cause. An artificer, therefore, of anything, if he\nlooks to that which always subsists according to sameness, and from this\nas a sort of pattern, works out the form and nature of his work, he must\nthus, necessarily, produce something wholly beautiful:\u2014but where he\nemploys for his pattern only what is generated, it cannot be beautiful.\n\nLet this universe then be called _heaven_, or _the world_, or by any\nother name that it usually receives; and let us, in the first place,\nconsider respecting it, what ought to be investigated at the very outset\nof our proposed inquiry about the universe,\u2014whether it always existed,\nhaving no beginning, or was generated, beginning from some certain\ncommencement. It is generated;\u2014for this universe is palpable, and has a\nbody; and all such things are perceptible (_i. e._ are to be apprehended\nby the senses); and things perceptible being apprehended by opinion, in\nconjunction with perception, appear to be in a state of becoming, and\nsubject to generation. Again, with reference to what exists, it must\nnecessarily have arisen from some cause.\n\nTo discover then the _Creator_ and _Father_ of this universe, as well as\nhis work, is indeed difficult; and when discovered, it is impossible to\nreveal him to mankind at large. And this too, we must consider\nrespecting him, according to which of two patterns he modelled the\nworld; whether with reference to one subsisting ever in a state of\nsameness and similarly affected, or with reference to one that is only\ngenerated. If this world then is beautiful and its artificer good, he\nevidently looked to an eternal pattern; but if it be without beauty, and\nwhat it is not lawful to mention, he must have looked to one that is\ngenerated. It is evident, however, to every one that he looked to one\nthat was eternal;\u2014for the universe is the most beautiful of generated\nthings, and its artificer the best of causes. Being thus generated,\nthen, it has been framed according to principles that can be\ncomprehended by reason and reflection, and ever abides in sameness of\nbeing. This, then, being the case, this world must necessarily be the\nresemblance of something;\u2014although to describe its origin according to\nnature is the greatest of all undertakings. We should distinguish\nbetween an image and its pattern; just as words are connected with the\nthings of which they are the interpreters:\u2014and so when we speak of that\nwhich is stable and firm, and mentally intelligible, our language should\nbe in like manner stable and immutable, and as far as possible\nunrefutable and immovable, having in this respect no deficiency;\nwhereas, in speaking concerning its image only, and as compared to it,\nwe should use probable arguments, that are in strict analogy thereto.\nMoreover, precisely as essence (or true being) is to generation, so is\ntruth to faith (or mere conjecture). You must not wonder, then, O\nSocrates, since different people differ so much in opinion about the\ngods and the formation of the universe, if I should be unable to put\nforth generally approved and scrupulously exact statements on so\ndifficult a subject; but even if we should only advance reasons not less\nprobable than those of others, you should still be content, remembering\nthat both I who am speaking, and you who are my judges, possess a common\nhuman nature; and you must be satisfied therefore, if my assertions are\nbut probable statements, and should inquire no farther.\n\nSOC. Capitally well said, Tim\u00e6us; and we must proceed wholly as you\nrecommend. As regards the prelude then of your discourse, we wonderfully\napprove of it: and now proceed to the strain (or main subject) itself.\n\nX.\u2014TIM. Let us declare then on what account the framing Artificer\nsettled the formation of this universe.[271] He was good; and in the\ngood, envy is never engendered about anything whatever. Hence, being\nfree from this (envy), he desired that all things should as much as\npossible resemble himself. Any one, therefore, who receives this as the\nleading principle of generation and the universe from intelligent men,\nwill receive it most correctly. For as the deity desired, as far as\npossible, that all things should be good, and nothing evil,\u2014he\naccordingly took everything that was visible and not in a state of rest,\nbut in excessive agitation and disorder, and then reduced it from\ndisorder into order, conceiving the latter to be far better than the\nformer. It is not, indeed, and never was, lawful to do anything else but\nwhat is most honourable; and accordingly, he found by reasoning that of\nthings naturally visible, nothing without intelligence could be more\nbeautiful than what is wholly endowed with intellect, and besides this,\nthat apart from the soul no one could possess intelligence.[272] In\npursuance of this reasoning, placing intellect in soul and soul in body,\nhe constructed the universe; that thus it might be a work naturally the\nmost beautiful and the best. Hence, therefore, we have a reasonable\nmotive for calling the world an animal with a soul, truly intellectual,\nand created through the providence of the deity.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 270:\n\n  The terms \u03c4\u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd\u2014\u03b8\u03ac\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd, \u1f45\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\u2014\u1f00\u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, so constantly met with in\n  this dialogue, express _eternal constancy_, as contrasted with\n  _mutability_; and they are found among the ten pairs of opposites\n  which, according to the Pythagoreans, constituted the _elements_ of\n  the universe.\n\nFootnote 271:\n\n  Gr. \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u1fb6\u03bd \u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u03b5.\n\nFootnote 272:\n\n  Plato seems, therefore, to regard the soul (\u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03ae) as an intermediate\n  agent and uniting bond between perishable bodies and the eternal and\n  indestructible intellect, powerfully acting on matter; but yet, on the\n  other hand, closely and necessarily connected with intellect; though\n  not like the latter, naturally eternal and indestructible, but the\n  best of things generated and constituted eternal by the divine\n  decrees.\n\n-----\n\nXI.\u2014This being the case, let us next consider, in the likeness of what\nanimals the composing artificer framed the universe. We must by no means\nthen think, that he would deign to fashion it like animals subsisting as\na part of anything (_i. e._ in an incomplete form): for nothing\nresembling an imperfect animal can possibly be beautiful. But we may\nconsider it on the other hand, as most nearly of all resembling what\ncontains the other animals both separately and collectively as parts [of\na whole:]\u2014for it (the universe) comprises within itself all intelligible\nanimals, just as this world contains us and all other visible\ncreatures.[273] The deity, indeed, desirous of making it in all respects\nresemble the most beautiful and entirely perfect of intelligible\nobjects, formed it into one visible animal, _containing within itself\nall the other_ animals with which it is naturally allied. Are we not,\nthen, right in concluding that there is but one heaven (or universe); or\nis it more correct to assert that there are many and infinite? One only,\n[I answer,] if it has been fabricated according to the original pattern.\nFor that which comprehends all intelligible animals whatever, can never\nbe second to any other:\u2014for there would be need of another animal again\nto comprise these two, of which they would both be parts; and it would\nbe more proper to assert that the universe resembles this comprehending\nthird, rather than the other two. In order, therefore, that the world\nmay in its substantive existence [\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd] resemble the\nall-perfect animal\u2014on this account the framer of the worlds produced\nneither two nor an infinite number; but this, the solely-begotten heaven\n(or universe) having been generated, now exists and ever will exist.\n\nNow, whatever has been generated, must necessarily have bodily shape,\nand be visible as well as tangible. But nothing can be visible without\nthe aid of fire, and nothing tangible without something solid, and\nnothing solid without earth,\u2014owing to which, the deity at the beginning\nof his constructive labour composed the body of the universe from fire\nand earth. But it is not possible for two things alone to cohere,\nwithout the intervention of a third; for a certain bond is necessary\nbetween the two. And the best of all bonds is that, which, as nearly as\npossible, unites into one both itself and the natures bound with it. But\nproportion will naturally best show this effect;[274]\u2014for whenever,\neither in three numbers, or solids, or powers, the middle bears the same\nratio to the last, as the first to the middle\u2014and again also, as the\nlast is to the middle, so is the middle to the first; then the middle\n(or mean) term becoming both first and last, and the last and first\nagain each become means, they must thus all necessarily become the same\nrelatively to each other, and having become the same with each other,\nwill all be one. If then the body of the universe had been a superficies\nonly without thickness, one medium alone would have sufficed, both for\nbinding it and all that belongs to it;\u2014but in the present case, as it\nwas doomed to be a solid\u2014and solids are never one only, but always\njointed together by two media,\u2014whence the deity placed water and air\nbetween fire and earth;\u2014and by thus placing them as far as possible in\nproportion to each other, so that fire should be to air as air to water,\nand as air to water so water to earth,\u2014he thus bound and framed together\nthe world visible and tangible. On this account also, and from such\nelements, which are four in number, the body of the universe was\nconfessedly generated by a certain proportion; and hence has resulted\nsuch an intimacy, that all its parts aptly cohere, and are indissoluble\nexcept by its uniting artificer.\n\nOf these four elements, then, the composition of the world received one\n_whole_ of each:[275]\u2014for its composing artificer constituted it from\nentire elements of fire, water, air, and earth; leaving no part of any\none of them, nor any extraneous power,\u2014considering that it would thus be\na whole animal, in the highest degree perfect and of perfect parts; and\nbesides this, that it would be one, as nothing would be left, from which\nany other such element could be produced; and lastly, that it would be\nfree from old age and disease,\u2014and perceiving also that the principles\ncomposing bodies, as heat and cold, and all possess vigorous powers,\nwhen they surround bodies externally and interfere with them\nunseasonably, dissolve their union, and bring on diseases and old age,\nwhereby they decay and perish. Owing to such causes and reasonings,\nthen, he framed this universe, as one whole, an united series of perfect\nwholes, perfect, undecaying, and without disease. He gave it also a\nfigure becoming and allied to its nature;\u2014and to the animal destined to\ncomprehend all others within itself, that figure as the most becoming,\nwhich includes within itself every sort of figure whatever. Hence he\nfashioned it in the shape of a sphere, perfectly round, having its\ncentre everywhere equally distant from the bounding extremities, as\nbeing the most perfect of all figures, and most resembling himself;\u2014and\nhe did this, considering the similar to be infinitely more beautiful\nthan the dissimilar.\n\nNext, he most carefully polished the external circumference of this\nsphere,\u2014and this for many reasons. It needed, indeed, neither eyes,\nnor ears, as there was nothing externally either visible or\naudible:\u2014neither was it surrounded with air, as if it required\nrespiration;\u2014nor, again, did it require any organ, through which it\nmight receive its nutriment, and discharge it again when digested: for\nnothing was either added to or taken from it, that being impossible.\nIndeed the universe is artfully made to provide itself with nutriment\nthrough its own decay, as well as to suffer and do all things in\nitself, and by its own operations;\u2014because, indeed, its creator\nconceived that it would be much more excellent, if independent in\naction, than if it required extraneous aid. And he did not think fit\nto give it hands either, as it had nothing either to receive or\nreject; nor yet of feet, or any other members suited to\nlocomotion:\u2014for he assigned to it a motion peculiar to itself, being\nthat of all the seven kinds of motion,[276] which chiefly belongs to\nintellect and reflection. Hence, making the world to turn constantly\non itself and on the same point, he gave it a circular motion, and\ntook from it all the other six, without giving it any power of\nprogression: and as this revolution required no feet, he created the\nworld without legs and feet.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 273:\n\n  Gr. \u03bf\u1f57 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f14\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1 \u03b6\u1ff6\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u2019 \u1f13\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7 \u03bc\u03cc\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1, \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u1ff3 \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd\n  \u1f41\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03cc\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b9\u03b8\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd. The meaning is somewhat obscure: the\n  above is Stallbaum\u2019s interpretation. Compare also, ch. xv. at the\n  beginning. It may be observed, as regards intelligible and sensible\n  objects, that Empedocles had laid down that the universe is\n  _\u03bd\u03bf\u03b7\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2_,\u2014although the \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1 \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03ad\u03c4\u03c5\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b1\u1f30\u03c3\u03b8\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6.\n\nFootnote 274:\n\n  So we have ventured to render,\u2014\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c0\u03ad\u03c6\u03c5\u03ba\u03b5\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03af\u03b1 \u03ba\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\n  \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd. On the whole subject, see Stallbaum\u2019s long and satisfactory\n  note.\n\nFootnote 275:\n\n  Gr. \u1f13\u03bd \u1f45\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u1f11\u03ba\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5,\u2014one whole, without deficiency or superfluity,\u2014the\n  \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, alluded to by Aristotle, Metaph. iv. \u00a7 16.\n\nFootnote 276:\n\n  On these seven kinds of motions, comp. ch. xviii. of this dialogue, p.\n  348.\n\n-----\n\nXII.\u2014Thus was it, that the intelligence of the eternal Deity, after due\nreflection, conceived the form of the god about to come into existence;\nand he made it smooth, equable, and even from its centre in every\ndirection,\u2014a body whole and perfect, wholly composed out of perfect\nbodies. As for the soul, he fixed it in the middle, extended it\nthroughout the whole, and likewise surrounded with it its entire\nsurface:\u2014and so, causing a circle to revolve in a circle, he established\nthe world as one substantive, solitary object, self-sufficient through\nits own excellence, requiring nothing external, but sufficiently known\nand friendly to itself. By this procedure, then, he produced the\nUniverse, a blessed god. The Deity, however, did not, as we now\nundertake to say, form the soul posterior and junior to the body: for he\nwho conjoined these, would never have allowed the more ancient nature to\nbe governed by the younger:\u2014and yet we, who are exposed to the blind\nchances of fortune, are apt to speak somehow in this silly fashion;\nwhereas the Deity constituted the soul both in age and excellence prior\nto and older than the body, as being the proper mistress and ruler of\nits subject [the body;] and that, too, from the following sources, and\nin the following manner.\n\nFrom one essence indivisible, and always the same, and from another\nagain that is divisible and corporeal, he composed\u2014by admixture from\nboth\u2014a third form of _essence_ intermediate between the two; and again,\nbetween what is indivisible and divisible as respects bodies, he placed\nthe nature of _same_ and _different_ (or mutable);\u2014and taking these\nthree, he mingled them all into one idea, joining them together by\nforce, as the _different_ would not freely mingle with the _same_. And\nafter mingling them with _essence_, and producing one from the three, he\nagain distributed this whole into suitable parts; each composed of a\nmixture of _same_, _different_, and _essence_. He next began to divide\nas follows:\u2014In the first place, he took away one part from the whole;\nthen he separated a second part, double of the first: and again, a\nthird, one-and-a-half times as much as the second, but triple of the\nfirst; then a fourth, double of the second; in the next place a fifth,\ntriple of the third: a sixth, octuple of the first: and lastly a\nseventh, twenty-seven times greater than the first. After this, he\nfilled up the double and triple intervals, still taking off parts\ntherefrom, and so placed them between the intervals, that there might be\ntwo media between every interval; one of which might, in the same\ndegree, exceed one of the extremes, and be exceeded by the other, while\nthe other part might in an equal degree exceed one of the extremes, and\nbe exceeded by the other. But as by the intermediate links between the\nabove-mentioned spaces the sesquialter, sesquitertian, and sesquioctave\nintervals were produced, he filled with a sesquioctave all the\nsesquitertian intervals,[277] leaving a part of each, the interval\nbetween which and the following would have to each other the same ratio\nas the numbers 256 and 243; and in truth he thus exhausted the whole\nmixture\u2014from which these were separated. He split the whole of this\ncomposition, then, along its entire length into two parts, joining them\nmutually across like the letter X, afterwards bending them into a\ncircle, and connecting them both with themselves and each other, in such\na way that their extremities might meet directly opposite the point of\ntheir mutual intersection, externally comprehending them in an uniform\nmotion around the same centre; besides which, he made one of the circles\nexternal, the other internal.[278] The motion of the exterior circle he\nproclaimed to be that of sameness, and that of the interior the motion\nof difference. He caused also the circle of sameness to revolve\nlaterally towards the right, and that of difference diagonally towards\nthe left. And the superiority he gave to the circulation of same and\nsimilar; for this alone he suffered to remain undivided;\u2014while, as to\nthat within, after dividing into six parts, and forming therefrom seven\nunequal circles, divided by double and triple intervals, three of each,\nhe bade these circles travel in contrary directions to each other,\u2014three\nof the seven to revolve at equal velocities, the remaining four with a\nvelocity unequal as respects either of the former three, yet in a\ncertain proportion as to their respective periods.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 277:\n\n  Gr. \u1f21\u03bc\u03b9\u03bf\u03bb\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f10\u03c0\u03bf\u03b3\u03b4\u03cc\u03c9\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u1f10\u03ba\n  \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b4\u03b5\u03c3\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03c3\u03b8\u03b5 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03c3\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9, \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f10\u03c0\u03bf\u03b3\u03b4\u03cc\u03bf\u03c5\n  \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f10\u03c0\u03af\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03be\u03c5\u03bd\u03b5\u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf, &c. The whole paragraph is\n  very difficult, owing to the very scanty records left us respecting\n  the nature of the ancient Harmonics.\n\nFootnote 278:\n\n  The whole of this Pythagorean-like speculation on Harmonics has been\n  variously explained by Cousin, Stallbaum, and Martin (as well as\n  B\u00f6ckh, in many of his learned tracts). It may here simply be observed,\n  that the two harmonic scales, thus split down their length and\n  crossed, formed two circles or orbits, one (\u03b8\u03ac\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd) revolving within\n  the other (\u03c4\u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd), but in an opposite direction. These, according to\n  many commentators, correspond with the equatorial and zodiacal\n  circles(?).\n\n-----\n\nXIII.\u2014After, therefore, the whole composition of the [universal] soul\nhad been completed according to the intention of God who framed it, he\nin the next place formed within it the whole of a corporeal nature; and\nhe aptly jointed them, by uniting centre to centre. The former (the\nsoul), being interwoven throughout from the middle to the very\nextremities of space, and covering it even all around externally, though\nat the same time herself revolving within herself, originated the divine\ncommencement of an unceasing and wise life throughout all time. And\nindeed the body of the universe was generated in visible shape; while\nthe soul, though invisible, was made to partake of reason and harmony,\nand rendered the best of created things by Him\u2014the best of eternal\nintelligences. The soul, then, being composed from the admixture of the\nthree parts, same, different, and essence, classified as well as bound\ntogether in certain proportions, and itself revolving inwardly on\nitself, whenever it comes in contact either with anything mutable or\nindivisible, at once declares by its intrinsic energy with what anything\nis identical, and from what it differs, and also with reference to what,\nwhere, how, and when it happens, both as regards its own separate\nessence and its external affections, either in things generated, or such\nas possess an eternal sameness.[279] When our talk, then, is about\ntruth, and consistent with itself,\u2014whether, on the one hand, it be about\nthings mutable or things constant, and is silently and noiselessly borne\nonward by its own motion, or when it is concerned about things sensible,\nand the circle of difference reports on its onward passage to every part\nof the soul, then arise fixed and true opinions and persuasions:\u2014but\nwhen, on the other hand, it is concerned about the merely rational, and\nthe glibly-whirling circle of sameness makes its indications,\u2014then\nintellect and science are thus necessarily brought to full perfection.\nAnd as respects the real essence in which these two qualities are\nengendered, if any one asserts that it is any other than the soul, he\nwill assert everything rather than the truth.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 279:\n\n  Gr. \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f41\u03c0\u03cc\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03b2\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03b3\u03b9\u03b3\u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f15\u03ba\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u1f15\u03ba\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03ac\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f70 \u1f14\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u1f00\u03b5\u03af. The whole sentence is\n  difficult,\u2014not so much from its obscureness, as its pregnancy of\n  meaning, which all but defies translation. The same remark applies to\n  the phrase\u2014\u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f41 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f00\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u1f74\u03c2 \u03b3\u03b9\u03b3\u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2\u2014in the succeeding\n  sentence. See Stallbaum and Martin _ad locum_.\n\n-----\n\nXIV.\u2014When the parent Creator perceived that this created image of the\neternal gods had life and motion, he was delighted with his work, and by\nthis very delight he was led to consider how he might make it still more\nto resemble its exemplar. Hence, as the _intelligible_ universe was an\neternal animal, he tried to make this [the _sensible_ universe], as far\nas he could, similarly perfect. The nature indeed of the animal itself\nwas eternal, and this nature could not be entirely adopted into any\nthing subject to generation;\u2014hence God resolved to form a certain\nmoveable image of eternity; and thus, while he was disposing the parts\nof the universe, he, out of that eternity which rests in unity, formed\nan eternal image on the principle of numbers;\u2014and to this we give the\nappellation of _Time_. But besides this, he contrived the days and\nnights, months and years, which had no existence prior to the universe,\nbut rose into being contemporaneously with its formation. All these are\nbut the parts of time; and the terms _it was_ and _it will be_ are\ngenerated [_i. e._, varying and evanescent] forms of time, which we have\nwrongly and unawares transferred to an eternal essence. For we say that\na thing was, is, and will be; while according to truth, the term _it\nis_, is alone suitable,\u2014_was_ and _will be_ being expressions only\nsuitable to generation, which proceeds through time,\u2014both of them being\ncertain motions:\u2014whereas, what exists eternally, the same and\nimmoveable, neither becomes at any time older or younger; neither has it\nbeen generated in the past, nor will be in the future, nor is it subject\nto those accidents which generation imposes on sensible objects,\u2014all of\nwhich are nothing more than forms of time imitating eternity, and moving\nin a circle measured by number. And besides this, in making such\nassertions as these,\u2014that what has been generated is generated,\u2014that\nwhat is becoming, is in generation,\u2014that what will be is to be,\u2014and that\nnon-being is not;\u2014in all this we state what is not accurately true. But\nthis is perhaps not the place for a minute discussion of these matters.\n\nTime, then, was generated with the universe, in order that, being\nproduced together, they might together be dissolved, if their\ndissolution should ever happen:\u2014and it was formed on the model of an\neternal nature, that it might as far as possible resemble it; for this\nmodel exists through all eternity, while the world, on the other hand,\nhas been generated, now exists, and will exist, throughout all time.\nWith this design, then, and after such reflection on the generation of\ntime, the Deity, in order that it might be produced in full operation,\ncreated the sun, moon, and the five other stars, which are denominated\nplanets, to distinguish and guard over the numbers of time. And as soon\nas he had produced the bodies of these stars, God placed them, seven in\nnumber, in the seven orbits whose revolutions are according to\ndifference;[280]\u2014the Moon, indeed, in the first orbit nearest about the\nearth; the Sun in the second beyond the earth; then Lucifer (_i. e._\nVenus), and the star sacred to Hermes (_i. e._ Mercury), revolving in\ntheir orbits as swiftly as the sun, but on a different principle of\nmotion, owing to which these stars, the Sun, Lucifer, and Mercury,\nmutually overtake and are overtaken by each other in their respective\ncourses. As respects the other stars, however, the labour of\ninvestigating their revolutions, and the causes that gave them origin,\nwould surpass that of the discourse itself which caused their mention.\nThese subjects, then, may hereafter, perhaps, when we have leisure, meet\nwith the investigation they deserve.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 280:\n\n  Gr. \u1f14\u03b8\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5\u03bd \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u03ac\u03c2, \u1f03\u03c2 \u1f21 \u03b8\u03b1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03bf\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f24\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd, &c.\n\n-----\n\nWhen, therefore, each of the stars necessary for the constitution of\ntime had obtained a motion adapted to its condition, and their bodies,\nbound by living chains, had become vital beings and learned their\nprescribed duty, they pursued their course according to the movement of\ndifference, passing obliquely through the orbit of sameness, to which\nthe former is subordinate, one circle being larger and the other\nsmaller, one moving quicker and the other more slowly; those that\nrevolved the quickest on the principle of sameness appearing ever to\novertake and be overtaken by those that travelled at slower velocities.\nAnd the revolutions of all these circles in their orbits with a spiral\nmotion,[281] proceeding at one and the same time in two contrary\ndirections, make it appear that the one moving at the slowest pace from\nthat which was the most swift is the nearest of all. And in order that\nthere might be a certain apparent measure of slowness and swiftness in\nthe relative velocities of these spheres, and an evident uniformity in\nall the eight movements, the Deity enkindled a light, which we now\ndenominate the sun, in the second of these orbits, in order that it\nmight fully display all things in the universe, and that such animals as\nrequired it might have their share in number,[282] becoming acquainted\ntherewith from the revolution of sameness and similarity. Thus, then,\nand on these accounts, arose night and day; being the period of the one\nand most skilfully-contrived movement.[283] The month, too, was\ngenerated, when the moon had run through her orbit, and passed into\nconjunction with the sun,\u2014and the year, when the sun had completely\ntravelled through his own orbit. As to the periods of the other stars,\nhowever, they are not understood, except by a very few; nor are they\ndistinguished by any peculiar name or relatively measured on the\nprinciple of numbers:\u2014and hence it may be said, they are ignorant that\nthese movements really constitute time, infinite as they are in number\nand of wonderful variety. Still it is by no means impossible to\nconceive, how the perfect number of time completes a perfect year, when\nthe courses of the eight orbits return at their completion to the same\nplace of commencement, and have their revolution measured on the\nprinciple of sameness. In this manner, indeed, and for this purpose,\nwere formed such of the stars as moved circularly through the\nuniverse,\u2014that this (the visible animal, _i. e._ the universe) might\nresemble as nearly as possible the most perfect intelligible animal, in\nthe imitation of an eternal nature.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 281:\n\n  Gr. \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03ba\u03cd\u03ba\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03c6\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1 \u1f15\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1. On this\n  construction, see Matth. Gr. Gr. \u00a7 408.\n\nFootnote 282:\n\n  The sun, he means, was provided with light that those animals, that\n  required it, might gain a knowledge of number, _i. e._ of the\n  principle on which the world is formed and now moves.\n\nFootnote 283:\n\n  In the Tim\u00e6us Locrus it is said (p. 432 of Stallbaum, vol. vii.), that\n  it is day, when the sun travels from east to west, and night when it\n  travels from west to east;\u2014and Plato must necessarily have thought\n  this, as he held the earth to be immoveable, without any motion even\n  round its own axis. Comp. Aristot. de C\u0153lo, II. ch. 13.\n\n-----\n\nXV.\u2014The Creator constructed all the rest at the same time as the\ngeneration of time,[284] according to the similitude of that which has\nbeen portrayed; but still, as the universe did not yet comprise within\nit the entire animal race, in this respect there was a dissimilarity.\nThis defect, therefore, [the Creator] supplied by impressing it with\nforms corresponding with the nature of its pattern. Wherever, therefore,\nthe intellect beholds ideas of a certain quality, and quantity in that\nwhich possesses life, such and so many he conceived that this (the\nuniverse) should contain; and these are four:\u2014One, the heavenly race of\ngods; another, winged and air-wandering race; a third, that which dwells\nin the water; and a fourth, that which has feet and walks on the ground.\nThe chief idea, indeed, of deity, he formed from fire, that it might be\nas far as possible splendid and fair to behold; and in adapting it to\nthe universe, he rendered it circular; made it to consist in the\nknowledge of that good which it is to follow, and distributed it round\nthe entire heavens, that it might be a true world, fully adorned with\nthat race in its every part. To each of the divine bodies, also, he\nadapted two motions;\u2014one of them taking place on the same spot and on\nthe principle of sameness, corresponding with that intelligence which\ncontemplates what is the same with itself; the other, a progressive\nmotion subordinate to the motion that is constantly the same and\nsimilar:[285]\u2014but as respects the other five motions, it was fixed\nimmoveable, that each of them might become as far as possible the best.\nAnd for this reason also the fixed stars were formed, as being divine\nand eternal animals, ever abiding and revolving in the same place and on\nthe principle of sameness; and the stars, which both revolve and have\nthe kind of motion above described, were formed on those\nprinciples.[286] Next, he formed the earth our common nourisher, which,\nbeing confined round the axis that extends through the universe, is the\nguardian and artificer of night and day, as well as the first and most\nancient of the gods that have been generated within the universe. With\nrespect, however, to the dances [or rhythmical motions] of these\ndivinities, and the mutual intersection of their circles, as well as\ntheir relative revolutions and progressive motions in their conjunctions\nand oppositions, whether in progressive or retrograde motion, at what\ntimes and in what manner they are in turn eclipsed, and afterwards\nreappear to our view, causing terror and presaging future events to such\nas are able to understand them;\u2014to attempt an explanation of all this,\nwithout having a plan of them before us, would be a labour in vain. But\nof this enough; and this is all that we shall say concerning the nature\nof the visible and generated gods.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 284:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u1f70 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1 \u1f24\u03b4\u03b7 \u03bc\u03ad\u03c7\u03c1\u03b9 \u03c7\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03ad\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2. The old edd. read \u03b5\u1f34\u03b4\u03b7.\n\nFootnote 285:\n\n  Plato is here describing two motions of the universe,\u2014one on the\n  principle of \u03c4\u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd (which is that of intelligence) round its own\n  axis, the other on that of \u03b8\u03ac\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd (that which the soul of the world\n  is formed), progressive, the latter of which\u2014viz. sensible creation,\n  is wholly subordinate to the former.\n\nFootnote 286:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u1f70 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u03c0\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03bb\u03ac\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1\u03cd\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u1f34\u03c3\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u2014\u2014\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u2019 \u1f10\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd\u03b1 \u03b3\u03ad\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5.\n\n-----\n\nXVI.\u2014Again, to speak concerning the other gods (or d\u00e6mons), and to know\ntheir generation, is more than we can perform; and we must trust to the\nreports of those ancient men, who being, as they said, the descendants\nof the gods, must have a clear knowledge of their parents. It is\nimpossible, therefore, to discredit the children of the gods; and even\nthough they should speak without probable and cogent proofs, yet as they\ndeclare that they are relating matters with which they are familiarly\nacquainted, we ought, in compliance with the law, to assent to their\ntradition. In this manner, then, according to them, the generation of\nthese gods took place, and is described.\n\nOcean and Tethys were the progeny of Heaven and Earth; and from these\nsprang Phorcys, Kronos, and Rhea, and ever so many more with them;\u2014and\nfrom Kronos and Rhea sprang Zeus, Hera (Jupiter, Juno), and all that we\nknow are called their brethren, together with others still who were\ntheir progeny.[287] When therefore all such gods as visibly revolve, and\nshow themselves when they please, were generated, the Artificer of the\nuniverse thus addressed them: \u201cGods of gods, of whom I am the creator\nand father, all things formed by me are by my will indissoluble. Indeed,\nwhat is bound is of course dissoluble; nevertheless, to desire to\ndissolve what is beautifully harmonized and well disposed, is the mark\nof an evil nature. Now, inasmuch as you have been generated, you are\nhence not immortal, nor wholly indissoluble; yet you shall never be\ndissolved, nor become subject to the fatality of death; because you have\ngot my will [that it shall be so,] which is a much greater and more\npowerful bond than those by which you were bound when first created.\nLearn, therefore, what I now say to you by way of information. Three\nclasses of mortals yet remain uncreated. Unless these be created, then,\nthe universe will be imperfect; for it will not contain within it every\nkind of animal, though it ought, in order to be quite perfect. Yet if\nthese are generated, and partake of life through me, they will become\nequal to the gods. In order, then, that mortal natures may subsist, and\nthe universe may be truly all, turn yourselves, according to your\nnature, to the formation of animals, imitating the power which I\nemployed in the creation of yourselves. And so far as any part of these\nis suited to have the same name as immortals to be called divine, and\ndestined to take the lead among those who willingly pursue justice, and\nreverence you\u2014of these I myself will deliver the seeds and beginnings;\nand for the rest do you weave together the mortal and immortal nature,\nconstructing and generating animals, and promote their growth too by\nsupplying them with food, and receive them back again [into your bosom]\nwhen fallen to decay.\u201d[288]\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 287:\n\n  A comparison of this statement with Hesiod\u2019s will show that Plato was\n  not much governed by the poet\u2019s authority. Comp. Theog. v. 132-156;\n  336-350; 453-460. Plato probably took his notion, as Proclus suggests,\n  from the Orphic hymns.\n\nFootnote 288:\n\n  On this speech we must refer the reader to Stallbaum\u2019s long and\n  valuable notes.\n\n-----\n\nXVII.\u2014Thus spoke the Creator; and again into the same bowl, in which\nhe had by mingling tempered the soul of the universe, he poured into\nit likewise what was left of the former mixture, somewhat indeed after\nthe same manner, yet not equally pure as at first, but less so by two\nor three degrees. And after having thus framed the universe, he\nallotted to it souls equal in number to the stars, inserting each in\neach; and then, as it were, placing them on a vehicle [whereon to\ntravel through the heavens,] he pointed out the nature of the\nuniverse, and announced to them the laws of fate; showing them that\nthe first generation would be allotted in common to all, so that no\nparticular soul should have less than its due portion, and that after\nthey had been distributed through the several instruments of time\nadapted to each,[289] there would then be produced that animal which\nis of all the most suited for religious worship; and as human nature\nwas of two kinds, [male and female,] he showed them that the more\nexcellent was that which would afterwards be called _man_. As souls,\ntherefore, are from necessity engrafted in bodies that are constantly\ngaining and losing their composing particles, he declared to them that\nin the first place all persons must necessarily have one connate\n[\u03be\u03cd\u03bc\u03c6\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd] sense produced by violent emotions,\u2014secondly, love mingled\nwith pleasure and pain; and besides these, fear and anger, together\nwith all their consequences and natural opposites; and that such as\nsubdued these would live justly, those overcome by them unjustly. And\nhe declared also, that after living well for the time appointed to\nhim, each one should once more return to the habitation of his\nassociate star, and spend a blessed and suitable existence; but\nfailing in these points, he should be changed in his second generation\ninto the nature of a woman; and should he not cease from evil even\nunder these circumstances, whatever the shape his wickedness had\ntaken, so also the soul should be changed into the nature of some\nbrute corresponding thereto, and when changed never cease from labour,\nuntil, following the revolution of sameness and difference peculiar to\nitself, and having overcome by reason its turbulent and irrational\npart, which is a mass, as it were, composed of fire, water, air, and\nearth, it should at length return to the first and best disposition of\nits nature.[290]\n\nHaving thus legislated for souls in all these particulars, in order that\nhe might be in no respect the cause of the future wickedness of each, he\nplanted some of them on the earth, others in the moon, and others in the\nremaining different instruments of time; and after this planting, he\ncharged the junior gods with the duty of constructing mortal bodies, as\nwell as everything additional that was required for the human soul,\ngiving them dominion also over these and all things consequent thereon,\nand bidding them rule over the mortal creature as nobly and honourably\nas they could, that it might not become the cause of evil to itself.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 289:\n\n  Gr. \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03ae\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u1f11\u03ba\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f15\u03ba\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1 \u1f44\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c7\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd.\n\nFootnote 290:\n\n  This is a clear indication of the philosopher\u2019s belief in the\n  transmigration of souls;\u2014and the same notion is developed towards the\n  close of the dialogue. Some, however, suppose that they are the\n  opinions of Tim\u00e6us, not Plato. How can we separate them?\n\n-----\n\nXVIII.\u2014The Creator, after arranging all these particulars, then retired\nto his accustomed repose; and while he thus abode, his children\nforthwith obeyed their father\u2019s order, and, taking the immortal\nprinciple of a mortal animal, they, in imitation of their own creator,\nborrowed[291] from the world portions of fire and earth, water and air,\nas things which they should one day restore; and firmly united them\ntogether, not with the same indissoluble bonds by which they themselves\nwere held together, but fixing them with thickly-set nails, invisible\nthrough their smallness, constructing from these different elements each\nparticular body, and placing the revolutions of the immortal soul in a\nbody subject both to renewal and decay. These, however,\u2014merged, as it\nwere, in a deep river,\u2014had no power of governing themselves, but\nviolently hurried forward both themselves and others, so that the whole\nanimal was moved\u2014confusedly however, just as chance carried it forward,\nand without any reason, according to the whole six kinds of\nmotion\u2014backwards and forwards, to the right and left, upwards and\ndownwards, and so on, according to the six differences of place. And\ngreat as was the advancing and retiring wave which furnished nutrition,\nyet it was still more agitated by the impulses which it received from\nwithout, when the body came into collision with external and foreign\nfire, or the solidity of earth, liquid waterfalls, or whirling blasts of\nair; from all which the various movements fell through the body on to\nthe soul; which on this account were afterwards, and are still, called\nperceptions [_i. e._ general sensations]. And these, moreover, instantly\ngiving rise to an exceedingly great and powerful motion, by moving with\nthat constantly flowing stream, and vehemently disturbing the\nrevolutions of the soul; wholly stopped the revolution according to\nsameness by their contrary current, hindering it either from commencing\nor continuing its course;[292]\u2014and even the movement according to\ndifference they so far disturbed, as to turn from their circular orbits\nand throw into all possible disorder the three intervals of double and\ntriple, together with the mean terms and conjoining links of the\nsesquitertian, sesquialter, and sesquioctave ratios, which cannot be\ndissolved by any one but the artificer by whom they were bound;[293]\u2014and\nthus, though scarcely connected with each other, they are borne along,\nthough quite in disorder,\u2014at one time straight forwards, at another\nobliquely, and then again upside down, just as if one were to fix his\nhead on the earth and raise his feet on high, in which case, both to the\ninverted person and the spectators, the parts on the right would seem to\nbe on the left, and the left on the right. These circles likewise\ngreatly disturbed in these and similar ways, when they fall in\nexternally with either sameness or difference, and call objects either\nsame or different, contrary to truth, become false and unreasonable; nor\nis there any revolution among them which has a controlling and directing\npower;\u2014and if, again, any of the external sensations are hurried forward\nand join in doing violence to the soul\u2019s whole receptacle, they then\nseem to prevail, though in reality they are still in subjection.\n\nAnd it is owing to all these affections, that even now as in the\nbeginning, the soul, when first united to a mortal body, is without\nintelligence; but when the stream of growth and nutrition flows along\nwith diminished speed, the circles of the soul, restored to\ntranquillity, proceed in their proper path, gaining steadiness as time\ngoes on, and then the orbits of the circles are regulated in their\ncourse agreeably to those that travel according to nature; and they call\nboth same and different by their proper appellations, assigning wisdom\nto the person by whom they are possessed. If any one, therefore,\nreceives both proper food and education, he must become perfectly sound\nand healthy, escaping every important disease; whereas he who neglects\nhis soul will pass lamely through life\u2019s existence, and again pass into\nHades aimless and unserviceable.[294] Of these matters, however, more\nhereafter. It is our business at present to treat more accurately of\nwhat we before proposed,\u2014namely, the generation of body in connexion\nwith soul, and owing to what causes and divine foresight it has taken\nplace, resting for our proofs chiefly on the argument of analogy.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 291:\n\n  Gr. \u03b4\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03b6\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9, &c., borrowing certain particles, which were to be\n  paid back as a debt at some future time, namely, at the dissolution of\n  the mortal body.\n\nFootnote 292:\n\n  The general meaning of this rather involved sentence is,\u2014that as well\n  by the natural bodily change as by the perceptions of the senses, a\n  disturbance is caused in the equable and constant agitation or\n  operation both of the intelligent and sensuous part of the soul.\n\nFootnote 293:\n\n  This celebrated passage most plainly shows what Plato meant by the\n  harmonic and arithmetic ratios concerned in forming the universe,\u2014viz.\n  that they indicated a certain harmony and equability of the\n  intellectual powers, clearly perceptible in their agitation and\n  movements, so long as the power of body and sense is not such as to\n  destroy and impair them:\u2014but this of course must be the result of an\n  union of body and soul.\n\nFootnote 294:\n\n  Gr. \u1f00\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u1f74\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03bd\u03cc\u03bd\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2. Stephens proposed \u1f00\u03bd\u03cc\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 on the authority of\n  some MSS.:\u2014but no change is needed.\n\n-----\n\nXIX.\u2014First, then, the gods, in imitation of the spherical shape of the\nuniverse, bound the two divine circles of the soul in a spherical\nbody,\u2014that, namely, which we now call the head, which is man\u2019s most\ndivine member, and the ruler of our whole composition. And to this the\ngods who framed it gave the whole body for its service, conceiving that\nit would thus partake of every possible motion; and moreover, lest the\nhead, in rolling over the various elevations and depressions, should be\nunable to overcome the heights, or get out of the cavities, the gods\ngave it the body to be its locomotive vehicle. Hence the body was endued\nwith length, and furnished by Divine contrivance with four members,\nnaturally capable of extension and flexion, to enable it to seize\nobjects, to give it a stable support, and to allow it to pass from place\nto place; and above this body was placed the head, the abode of our most\ndivine and sacred portion. This was why we were furnished with legs and\nhands;\u2014and as the gods considered that the fore parts are more\nhonourable and fitter to rule than those behind, they gave us a motion\nchiefly progressive.[295] Beside this, it was requisite, that man\u2019s\nfront should be distinct and dissimilarly formed from the other side;\nand on this account they first placed about the vessel of the head a\nface provided with organs to express all the energies of the soul, and\nassigned to this anterior part the natural government of man. And of\nthese organs, the first that they constructed were the light-bearing\neyes, fixing them in from some such cause as the following: The body of\nthese eyes they formed to consist of fire, not enough indeed to burn,\nbut to give a gentle light suitable to each day; for the pure fire\ncontained within us and related to it, they caused to flow smoothly\nthrough the eyes, and in dense quantities throughout, but condensing it\nmore especially in the middle of the eyes, so as to conceal all the\ngrosser part within, and allow the pure only to filter through. When,\ntherefore, the light of day surrounds the stream of vision, then, by the\nmutual falling of similar bodies on each other, one well-adapted body is\nconstituted, according to the direction of the eyes, wherever the light\nproceeding from within resists that which falls on it from without. But\nthe whole becoming similarly affected through similitude, when it either\ntouches anything else or is itself touched by another, then the motion\nthus produced, diffusing itself through the whole body even as far as\nthe soul, causes that sensation which we denominate sight. But when this\nkindred fire [within us] departs into night, the sight is cut off; for\nin this case, by proceeding into a dissimilar nature, it becomes\nestranged, and is extinguished: since it has no longer any relation to\nthe proximate surrounding air, which is naturally destitute of fire.\nHence it ceases from seeing, and besides this, becomes the introducer of\nsleep; for the gods constructed the eyelids to be a preservative of the\nsight, and thus by their compression restrain the power of its inward\nfire, and besides that, scatter and smooth over its internal motions;\nand when they are thus calmed, rest ensues; which rest, when profound,\nproduces a sleep attended with few dreams;\u2014but on the other hand, if\ncertain unusually vehement motions remain, then, according to their\nnature and the places in which they occur, they will engender\ncorresponding phantasms within, which will come to our recollection as\nsoon as we wake. With respect, also, to the formation of images on\nmirrors, and all lucid, smooth surfaces, there is nothing in these\ndifficult of solution; for all such phenomena necessarily result from\nthe mutual affinity of the external and internal fire, and again from\none in particular that subsists about smooth bodies individually, and is\nmany times reflected, because the fire around the face gradually becomes\nunited on the smooth and shining surface with the fire coming from the\neyes. The parts on the right, too, appear to be on the left, because\nthere is a mutual contact of the contrary parts of the sight with the\ncontrary parts of the object, different from their accustomed mode of\napproach. On the contrary, the parts on the right appear on the right,\nand the left on the left, when there is a reflexion of the light\ncomposed of the mingled fires, both exterior and interior; and secondly,\nthe smoothness of the mirrors, which are convex, reflect that which is\nto the right on the left, and the left to the right. But if the mirror\nbe concave, it presents an image wholly inverted, by sending the lower\npart of the image upwards, and again the upper part downwards.[296] All\nthese phenomena, therefore, are only some of the concurring causes[297]\nwhich the divinity brings to his aid in rendering the idea of that which\nis best as far as possible complete,\u2014whereas the multitude are of\nopinion that these are not the concurring but the real causes of all\nthings,\u2014such, namely, as those producing cold and heat, freezing and\nthawing, and such like, but which are wholly incapable of exercising\nreason and intellect; for the soul may be said to be the only one of all\nbeings that can acquire intellect; and this is invisible, whereas fire\nand water, air and earth, are all visible bodies. As for the lover of\nintellect and science, however, he should explore the first causes of\nintellectual nature, and consider, respecting second causes, how many\narise from the motion of other bodies, and yet necessarily give motion\nagain to others. This, then, is what we ought to do: we should speak\nconcerning both kinds of causes, but separately of such as engage the\nintellect in forming things fair and good; and of such, also, as,\nabandoning wisdom, produce the things they form just as it may chance,\nand without any regard to order.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 295:\n\n  \u03c4\u03b1\u03cd\u03c4\u1fc3 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u1f7a \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u1f14\u03b4\u03bf\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd.\n\nFootnote 296:\n\n  This is a very obscure passage, but much light has been thrown upon it\n  by Prof. T. H. Martin (_\u00c9tudes sur le Tim\u00e9e_, 2 vols. Paris, 1841),\n  who conceives that Plato is here referring to convex and concave\n  mirrors. Considerable light is thrown also on the meaning of the Greek\n  words by a passage in Euclid\u2019s Optics, p. 393.\n\nFootnote 297:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03be\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03c4\u03af\u03c9\u03bd.\n\n-----\n\nXX.\u2014Respecting the second causes of the eyes,[298] therefore, so far as\nthey possess the power which falls to their lot, let what has been\nalready said suffice; and we will next speak of their greatest and most\nuseful employment, for which, indeed, they were expressly bestowed on us\nby the Deity. The sight, indeed, is in my opinion the cause of the\ngreatest benefit to man,\u2014since even in our present discussion about the\nuniverse, not one argument could ever have been adduced without\nsurveying the stars, the sun, and the heavens. Now, however, both day\nand night, months and periods of years, have been seen and\narithmetically calculated; and they give us a conception of time, and\nmeans of investigating the nature of the universe; from all which we\nhave gained that kind of learning termed philosophy, a better gift than\nwhich never was nor ever will be conferred by the gods on our mortal\nrace. This, then, is what I call the greatest benefit of the eyes; and\nas for the others that are of less consequence, why should I celebrate\nthem, to make those who are blind and unphilosophic mourn and regret\nthem in vain? This, however, we may assert, that God invented and\nbestowed sight on us for this express purpose, that on surveying the\ncircles of intelligence in the heavens, we might properly employ those\nof our own minds, which, though disturbed when compared with the others\nthat are uniform, are still allied to their circulations; and that\nhaving thus learned and being naturally possessed of a correct reasoning\nfaculty, we might by imitating the uniform revolutions of divinity set\nright our own silly wanderings and blunders.\n\nAs respects voice and hearing, we may say again, that they were bestowed\non us by the gods for the same objects and on the same account; for\nspeech was ordained for the very same purpose as the sight, which it\ngreatly aids in its office;\u2014and it is with a view also to harmony that\nthe hearing has an aptitude for musical sounds. That harmony, moreover,\nwhich consists in motions analogous to the revolutions of our soul, does\nnot seem advantageous to him who wisely devotes himself to the\nMuses[299] on the mere ground of its being pleasurable without reason,\nas it seems at present; but it was given us by the Muses to aid us in\nreducing the disturbed circulation of our soul to mutual order and\naccordance;\u2014and again, they gave us rhythm for the same purpose, as the\nmeans of reforming the irregular and ungracious habits that prevail in\nthe majority of our race.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 298:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u1f70 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03bf\u1f56\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f40\u03bc\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03be\u03c5\u03bc\u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03af\u03c4\u03b9\u03b1.\n\nFootnote 299:\n\n  That is, philosophy, which likewise is signified by the term \u1f21\n  \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae.\n\n-----\n\nXXI.\u2014Thus far, with only a few exceptions, our past remarks have had\nreference to the creations of intellect; and we ought to speak likewise\nof things that come of necessity; for the generation of this world\nresults wholly from the co-operation of intellect and necessity.\nIntellect, indeed, ruling over necessity, persuaded it to bring to the\nhighest perfection the majority of created things; and in this way, by\nthe persuasive power of wisdom over necessity, this universe was first\ncreated. Now, correctly to explain in what way it was created, we must\nrefer in our explanation to the form of a variable cause,[300] as the\nnature of the case requires. Let us then recall our steps, and take up\nthe subject afresh, going back to first principles, as we did before.\nLet us investigate then the nature and affections of fire and water, air\nand earth, prior to the generation of the heavens; for up to the present\ntime no one has yet unfolded their generation:\u2014and yet we speak of fire\nand other things as principles and elements of the universe, just as if\nthe nature of each was known;\u2014whereas at the same time any one with the\nleast intelligence must be aware that they cannot be compared even to\nletters or parts of which syllables are formed. As respects ourselves,\nthis is what we propose:\u2014we will not speak of the principle or\nprinciples, or whatever other denomination they may receive, of all\nthings;\u2014and this for no other reason than the difficulty of stating what\nare my sentiments according to our present method of discussion.[301] Do\nnot expect me then to speak thus, for I cannot persuade myself that I\nhave the ability to undertake so difficult a subject. Keeping,\ntherefore, to the line of argument laid down at the beginning, on the\nforce of probability,[302] I will endeavour to make statements not less\nprobable than those of others, and beginning the subject once more from\nits commencement[303] to discourse on the matter both in detail and as a\nwhole. First, then, invoking the divinity who has now from the first\nbeen the guardian of our discourse, to defend us from an absurd and\nunusual exposition and lead us to a doctrine founded on probability\u2014let\nus again begin to speak.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 300:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f36\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f30\u03c4\u03af\u03b1\u03c2.\n\n-----\n\nXXII.\u2014This fresh commencement then, of our present discussion requires a\nmore ample division than the former. For then we distinguished only two\nspecies; but we must now admit a third. In the former discussion two\nwere sufficient;\u2014one set forth as a species of model, apprehensible by\nthe intellect, and always subsisting on the principle of sameness,\u2014the\nsecond an imitation of the model, generated and visible; and we did not\nthen distinguish a third, because we deemed these two sufficient. But\nnow the subject of discourse seems to compel me to introduce and explain\na new species which is both difficult and obscure.[304] Of what natural\npower, then, are we to conceive it possessed? It is indeed in some sort\nthe special receptacle, and, as it were, the nurse of all generation.\nSuch indeed is the truth:\u2014but we must speak more clearly concerning it.\nAnd this will certainly be an arduous undertaking on many accounts, but\nprincipally on account of the questions that must previously be settled\nconcerning fire and the rest of the elements,\u2014why one should be called\nwater rather than fire, or air rather than earth, or why any one of them\nshould bear one name in particular rather than all the rest; thus\nrendering it a difficult matter to use a language about it that is fixed\nand stable. How then, and by what means, are we to arrive at a probable\nconclusion in this dilemma?\n\nIn the first place, then, what we now denominate water, on becoming\ncondensed, seems to take the form of stones and earth,\u2014and when melted\nand dispersed, that of vapour and air;\u2014air also, when burnt up, becomes\nfire, while the latter again, on becoming condensed and extinct, resumes\nthe form of air; and again air, when collected and condensed, produces\nmists and clouds, from which, when still more compressed, rain descends;\nand from water again are formed earth and stones;\u2014[the whole of them,]\nas it seems, exchanging all round their mutual generation.[305]\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 301:\n\n  Gr. \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b5\u03be\u03cc\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5. Stallbaum considers this\n  phrase as equivalent to \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b5\u1f30\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2. We have preferred giving a\n  literal interpretation of the words themselves.\n\nFootnote 302:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u2019 \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u1f70\u03c2 \u1fe5\u03b7\u03b8\u1f72\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c6\u03c5\u03bb\u03ac\u03c4\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b5\u1f30\u03ba\u03cc\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd \u03b4\u03cd\u03bd\u03b1\u03bc\u03b9\u03bd,\n  &c. He is here alluding to what he had said in his introduction of the\n  subject, ch. ix.\n\nFootnote 303:\n\n  Gr. \u03bc\u1fb6\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f14\u03bc\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u1f00\u03c0\u2019 \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u1fc6\u03c2. Stallbaum suggests as an\n  emendation, \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f14\u03bc\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd, _according to the plan of our former\n  discussion_:\u2014but this is scarcely needed.\n\nFootnote 304:\n\n  On the nature of primitive matter and the distinction between matter\n  finite and matter infinite, see Stallbaum\u2019s long and learned note _ad\n  locum_.\n\nFootnote 305:\n\n  Gr. \u03ba\u03cd\u03ba\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03bf\u1f55\u03c4\u03c9 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03b4\u03b9\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bb\u03b1, \u1f61\u03c2 \u03c6\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd.\n\n-----\n\nXXIII.\u2014As these, then, never maintain any constancy of existence, who\nwill have the assurance to maintain that any one of them is _this_\nrather than _that_? No one:\u2014and it would be far the safest plan to speak\nabout them as follows:\u2014When we see anything constantly passing from one\nstate of existence to another, as fire for instance, we should not say\nthat it is fire absolutely, but something fiery,\u2014and again, that what we\ncall water is not absolutely so, but something watery; without assigning\nto them any names that would give the idea of stability, as we think\npeople do, when they express it by _this_ and _that_ (\u03c4\u03cc\u03b4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf);\u2014for not being of an abiding nature, it cannot endure to have\napplied to it such terms as, _this thing_, _of this nature_, _belonging\nto this_; and any such others as would show it to have a substantive\nexistence. Hence we should not give any one of them an individual name,\nbut call it something such-like, but ever fluctuating; and especially\nwith respect to fire, [we should assert] that it is wholly such-like,\nand similarly likewise, everything endued with generation. [That\nreceptacle,] however, in which each of these appears successively to\ngrow up and decay, that alone is entitled to be termed _this_ and\n_that_;\u2014whereas anything of any kind soever, as hot, white, or their\ncontraries, and all therefrom proceeding, cannot be so denominated. But\nlet us again try more clearly to explain our meaning. If any one, in\nmodelling all kinds of figures out of gold, were unceasingly to\ntransform them one by one into all the others, and some one present were\nto point to one of them and inquire what it was, it would be by far the\nsafest and most correct to say that is gold; but as for its being a\ntriangle, or any other figure that might be given to it, not to speak of\nthem as being so in reality, inasmuch as they are in process of change,\neven while we make such assertion; but to be content if it may safely be\ndenominated such-like, [or of such a nature]. The same remark applies to\nthat which receives all bodies;\u2014and we should ever call it by the same\nname, as it never abandons its own proper power, but perpetually\nreceives all things, and never anywhere or in any way assumes any of\nthose shapes that enter into it,\u2014being in fact a natural receptacle for\neverything,[306] receiving both motion and form from what enters\ntherein; and this is why it exhibits a different aspect at different\ntimes. But as for the representations of the objects that enter and\ndepart hence, they are modelled after them in a manner wonderful and\ndifficult to describe, as we shall hereafter relate.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 306:\n\n  Gr. \u1f10\u03ba\u03bc\u03b1\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9. This unusual meaning of\n  \u1f10\u03ba\u03bc\u03b1\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd is well explained by a passage in the opening of the Tim\u00e6us\n  Locrus, p. 94, a.\u2014\u03c4\u1f70\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u1f55\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd \u1f10\u03ba\u03bc\u03b1\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b9\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n  \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f70\u03bd \u03b5\u1f36\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f50\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03c2. The words \u03c7\u03ce\u03c1\u03b1 and \u1f15\u03b4\u03c1\u03b1 are\n  sometimes used in this dialogue to express a similar notion; viz. the\n  primitive matter of things created, infinite in extent but capable of\n  receiving shapes.\n\n-----\n\nXXIV.\u2014For the present, then, we must consider three things:\u2014first, that\nwhich is produced,\u2014the second, that in which it is produced,\u2014and the\nthird, that of which the thing produced is the natural resemblance. And\nespecially is it proper to compare that which receives to the mother\n(_i. e._ which supplies the model), that from which it receives to the\nfather, and the nature intermediate between these to the child;[307] and\nto consider, also, that as the image should present every possible\nvariety of forms, that in which the model is formed cannot well be\nprepared for the purpose, unless those forms have been erased from it\nwhich it used to receive from other quarters. Indeed, if it were like\nany of the objects that enter into it, if aught were to present itself\nof a nature contrary and wholly different, it would produce a bad\nlikeness thereof. And hence from presenting at the same time its own\nimage, that which is destined to receive within itself all the different\nspecies possible, should itself be destitute of all form whatever;\u2014just\nas those preparing sweet-smelling unguents take all pains to render\nwholly inodorous the liquids that are to receive the perfume,\u2014and as\nthose also who wish to impress figures on a soft substance carefully\nremove from it any previous impression, and make it, as far as they can,\nexquisitely smooth and well-polished. In the same way, then, that which\nis intended properly to receive through its entire extent the\nresemblances of eternal beings, should be naturally without any form\nwhatever of its own. Hence, as to this mother and receptacle of things\ncreated, which is visible and every way perceptible, we cannot term it\neither earth, air, fire, or water,\u2014nor again, any one of their\ncompounds, or any of the elements from which they were produced; but we\nshould not be at all wrong in calling it a certain invisible and\nshapeless essence, which receives all things and has a certain share of\nintelligence,\u2014though how it has it, is a matter very obscure and\ndifficult of apprehension. So far, however, as it is possible to arrive\nat its nature from what has been previously said, we may very correctly\nsay that fire appears to be something inflamed,[308] water something\nmoist,\u2014and so in like manner, earth and air, so far as it receives the\nimages of these bodies.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 307:\n\n  This passage is alluded to by Aristotle, Metaph. I. ch. 6.\n\nFootnote 308:\n\n  Gr. \u03c0\u1fe6\u03c1 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f11\u03ba\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u03c9\u03bc\u1f10\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c6\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n-----\n\nXXV.\u2014Let us, then, be somewhat more minute in resolving the following\nquestion,[309]\u2014whether there is a certain fire subsisting in itself,\u2014and\nso also, as respects other things which we always say have a separate\nexistence in themselves, whether the objects alone that we see, and\nwhich are perceived through the bodily organs, possess reality of being,\nand nothing besides these has any existence at all,\u2014or whether we are\nwrong in asserting that each of them has its corresponding idea, when\nafter all it is nothing but idle talk. The present question, therefore,\nwe must not decide without much judicious examination; neither should we\nadd to our present discourse any great length of matter not strictly\nbelonging to the subject:\u2014but if there should appear to be any limit, by\nwhich it can be contained within a small compass, that would of all\nthings be the most opportune to our present design.\n\nThus, then, will I state my opinion. If intellect and true opinion are\ntwo separate kinds of things, there must necessarily be self-existing\nideas not perceptible by the senses, and to be apprehended only by the\nintellect; but if, as appears to some, true opinion differs in no\nrespect from intellect, everything perceived through the body should be\nconsidered perfectly real. We must consider them, then, as two distinct\nthings, because they both have a separate origin and character, one of\nthem produced in us by learning, the other through persuasion,\u2014one\nalways based on true reason, the other irrational,\u2014the one not to be\nmoved by persuasion, the other subject to such mutation:\u2014and lastly, of\ntrue opinion every man has a share; but of intellect only the gods, and\nsome small portion of mankind.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 309:\n\n  The question now proposed is, whether the elementary bodies have a\n  separate existence and eternal ideas, or whether those only are\n  certain that are cognizable by the senses. On this point he says, that\n  just as _science_ and _opinion_ widely differ, so also do the _ideas_\n  of things and the _things_ submitted to the senses. Different,\n  however, from both these is the \u03c7\u03ce\u03c1\u03b1 or receptacle of that infinite\n  matter, which can only be conceived by a bastard sort of reason;\n  because the infinite is not the subject of mental intelligence, but\n  is, as it were hypothetically, considered by an inferior reasoning\n  faculty.\n\n-----\n\nXXVI.\u2014Such being the case, we must acknowledge that there is an idea\nwhich subsists according to sameness, unproduced and not subject to\ndecay; receiving nothing into itself from elsewhere, and itself never\nentering into any other nature, but invisible and imperceptible by\nsenses, and to be apprehended only by pure intellect; while the second,\non the other hand, which is like it, and bears the same name, is\nperceptible by the senses, the effect of production, ever in motion,\ncoming into being in a certain spot, and then again hastening to decay,\nbeing apprehended by opinion united with perception. Again, there is a\nthird class of being,\u2014that of eternal place; which is never destroyed,\nbut becomes a seat (or receptacle) for everything created, being\nperceptible of itself without the interference of the senses, by a sort\nof bastard reason, though scarcely to be relied on; and hence seeing it,\nas in a dream, we assert that every being must necessarily be somewhere,\nand in a certain place, and that nothing can exist which is neither on\nearth or in the heavens. With regard to all these, and such like\nopinions and the ideas which are entertained in a waking state and have\na positive existence, we cannot, owing to this dreaminess, clearly\ndistinguish the one from the other, and state what is the fact,\u2014that the\nimage, which cannot claim as its own that even for which it is formed,\nbut is ever borne along as the spectre of something else, must\nconsequently be formed in something else, and somehow vindicate to\nitself a separate essence, if it has any existence at all;\u2014whereas, with\nregard to real being, true and accurate reason aids it by affirming,\nthat as long as two things differ from each other, they cannot so exist\none in another, as to be at the same time two things and one only.[310]\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 310:\n\n  This passage is somewhat difficult and involved; but Plato\u2019s meaning\n  seems to be, that the things falling under the senses are conformed\n  according to the example of the ideas, and are, as it were,\n  representations thereof, though different from the ideas\n  themselves:\u2014and hence there must necessarily be some matter in which\n  they have been moulded, or else they can have no permanent existence;\n  though nevertheless sound reason shows us that there is a wide\n  difference between them and the ideas properly so called.\n\n-----\n\nXXVII.\u2014This, then, is a summary of my opinion,\u2014that there are three\ndistinct things which existed before the formation of the universe,\n_being_, _place_, and _generation_;\u2014that the nurse of generation,\nmoistened and inflamed, receiving the forms of earth and air, and\nexperiencing all the other accidents thereon consequent, appeared under\nmany various aspects; but as it was contained by powers neither similar\nnor equally balanced, it could not possibly be balanced itself, and\nthrough the want of such balance, became itself impelled by these\nforces, to which it again in turn gave impulse;[311] while the parts in\nmotion were separately hurried along in different directions, like\nthings shaken and winnowed by sieves (\u03c0\u03bb\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd) and machines used for\nthe cleansing of corn, the dense and heavy particles in one direction,\nthose that are light settling in another quite different. Thus when\nthese four classes were agitated by their receptacle, which was itself\nmoved as by the shaking of the [above-mentioned] instrument, there was a\nseparation of the dissimilar parts, and a crowding together of those\nmost alike; in consequence of which these other things also occupied a\ndifferent position, before the universe was created and from such\nmaterials reduced to order. Before this, indeed, they all subsisted\nirrationally, and without measure;\u2014but when the Creator undertook to\narrange the universe, he first gave shapes with forms and numbers to\nfire and earth, water and air, which possessed indeed certain traces of\ntheir true essence, though, nevertheless, wholly so situated, as\neverything would probably be, in the absence of its god.[312] And let us\nabove all things hold, and ever hold, that the Deity made them as far as\npossible the most beautiful and the best, when before they were in a\ntotally different condition. Now, then, I will try to show you the\ndistribution and generation of these things individually by a somewhat\nunusual mode of proof; but yet, as you have trodden the paths of\nmathematical learning, through which we must necessarily make our\ndemonstration, you will not fail to follow me.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 311:\n\n  On the full meaning of this passage, see Stallbaum\u2019s long note _ad\n  locum_.\n\nFootnote 312:\n\n  What Plato here means is, that the elements before the creation,\n  although infinite, shapeless, and soulless, contained within them\n  certain traces of their true essence, and were afterwards made finite\n  and of fixed shape by being clothed, as it were, with forms and\n  numbers.\n\n-----\n\nXXVIII.\u2014First, then, that fire and earth, water and air, are bodies, is\nevident surely to every one. But every species of body possesses\nsolidity; and every solid must necessarily be contained by planes.\nAgain, a base formed of a perfectly plane surface is composed from\ntriangles.[313] But all triangles are originally of two kinds, each of\nthem having one angle a right angle, and the two others acute:\u2014and one\nof these has an equal part of a right angle divided by the equal sides;\nwhile in the other, two unequal parts of a right angle are divided by\nthe unequal sides. This, then, we lay down, according both to\nprobability and necessity, as the origin and principle of fire and all\nother bodies;\u2014but as for the heavenly principles thereof, these indeed\nare known only to the Deity, and to those among men who enjoy God\u2019s\nfavour.\n\nWe must relate, then, of what kind those four most beautiful bodies were\nthat thus came into being, and which, however unlike each other, may yet\nbe produced from each other by dissolution. By accomplishing this,\nindeed, we shall ascertain the truth about the generation of earth and\nfire, as well those elements (_i. e._ water and air) which in their just\nproportion hold an intermediate position; for then we shall allow no one\nto assert that there are visible bodies more beautiful than these, each\nof which belongs to a separate class. It must be our endeavour,\ntherefore, to unite together these four kinds of bodies so excellent in\nbeauty, and so prove to you that we have sufficiently apprehended their\nnature. Of the two triangles, indeed, the isosceles has but one form,\nwhile the oblong or scalene admits of infinite variety. We must select,\ntherefore, the most beautiful among the infinites, if we would begin and\nproceed in due order:\u2014still if any one can prove that he has found any\nform yet better and more suitable for the composition of these bodies,\nhe shall be treated not as an enemy but a friend, and his opinion shall\nprevail. As for us, however, we fix on one only as the most beautiful of\nall the many triangles, passing over all the rest;\u2014that out of which is\nformed a third, the equilateral triangle.[314] To explain the reason of\nthis would indeed require a somewhat lengthened proof:\u2014nevertheless we\npropose a handsome reward for him who by a diligent investigation finds\nthis not to be the case. We select, therefore, two triangles out of\nmany, from which the bodies of fire and the other elements have been\nconstructed,\u2014one being an isosceles, the other one always having the\nsquare of its longer side the triple of that of the shorter.\n\nBut what we formerly asserted rather obscurely, we must\n\nnow more accurately define. For all the four kinds [of elements] seemed\nto be mutually generated among each other from not being correctly\nrepresented; for there are generated from the triangles which we have\njust chosen, four kinds [of solid figures]\u2014three of them, indeed, from\none having unequal sides, and the fourth alone constructed from the\nisosceles triangle.[315] All of them, therefore, cannot, by dissolution\ninto each other, produce from many small things a few that are\nlarge,\u2014this being effected only by three of them; for all things\nwhatever naturally arise from one only, and when the greater parts are\ndissolved, many small parts will be formed out of them, receiving\nfigures suitable to each; and again, when the numerous small parts are\ndispersed into triangles, a single number is formed, and the entire bulk\nconstitutes one separate body of large size.[316] Thus much then may\nsuffice concerning their mutual generation.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 313:\n\n  Gr. \u1f21 \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f40\u03c1\u03b8\u1f74 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c0\u03ad\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b2\u03ac\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f10\u03ba \u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b3\u03ce\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03be\u03c5\u03bd\u03ad\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5. These notions\n  about triangles were decidedly Pythagorean, as we are informed by\n  Proclus in Euclid, II. 46. \u03bf\u1f31 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03a0\u03c5\u03b8\u03b1\u03b3\u03cc\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u1f01\u03c0\u03bb\u1ff6\u03c2\n  \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u1f74\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03af \u03c6\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03b7\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b5\u1f30\u03b4\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u0390\u03b1\u03c2, &c. See\n  also Martin\u2019s note, 67, _\u00c9tudes sur le Tim\u00e9e_, ii. p. 236-8. Plato,\n  however, could have been no mean geometrician himself, having studied\n  under Theodorus.\n\nFootnote 314:\n\n  \u1f10\u03be \u03bf\u1f57 \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f30\u03c3\u03cc\u03c0\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03ba \u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03ad\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\u03ba\u03b5. The sense of the\n  whole passage is explained geometrically in Stallbaum\u2019s note. We here\n  give only what seems the correct rendering of the Greek.\n\nFootnote 315:\n\n  Namely, the _tetrahedron_ or pyramid, _octahedron_, and _icosahedron_,\n  which are generated from six equal-sided triangles, and fourthly, the\n  _cube_, generated from an equilateral triangle. See Stallbaum, _ad\n  locum_.\n\nFootnote 316:\n\n  Gr. \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f37\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c1\u03b9\u03b8\u03bc\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f11\u03bd\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f44\u03b3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b1 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03b5\u03bd \u1f02\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf \u03b5\u1f36\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2\n  \u1f15\u03bd, lit. _one number being formed will complete one separate and large\n  kind of single mass_.\n\n-----\n\nXXIX.\u2014We must speak next in order concerning the quality of each class\nindividually, and show from what composition of numbers each was formed.\nThe first, then, indeed, is that composed from the smallest triangles,\nits element being that which has its subtending side twice the length of\nthe shorter. Now, two of these triangles being mutually brought together\nto form a diagonal diameter, and this being thrice repeated, so that the\ndiagonals and shorter sides shall meet in the same point, as in a\ncentre, the result will be one equilateral triangle composed of six\ntriangles. But four equilateral triangles form by the union of three\nplane angles one solid angle, the size of which exceeds that of the most\nobtuse plane angle; and thus by forming a figure that comprises four of\nthese angles, we constitute that first species of solid, [the\ntetrahedron,] which divides into equal and similar parts the entire\nsphere in which it is inscribed. The second species of solid, [the\noctahedron,] is formed from the same triangles, which unite to form\neight equilateral triangles, and form one solid angle from four plane\nangles, six solid angles being requisite to constitute this second class\nof solids. The third, [the icosahedron,] is formed from the union of one\nhundred and twenty elements, so united as to form twelve solid angles,\neach formed by five plane equilateral triangles, and it has for its\nbases (or faces) twenty equilateral triangles. These are the only solids\nthat can be formed from this element, [viz. the scalene triangle]. It\nwas the isosceles triangle, however, that produced the fourth elementary\nfigure,\u2014four of them being so united with their right angles at the\ncentre, as to form one equilateral four-sided plane; and six of these\nagain united forming eight solid angles, each of which is formed by the\ncombination of three plane right angles;\u2014the figure of the body thus\ncomposed being cubical, having six plane quadrangular equilateral bases.\nThere was yet a certain fifth combination, [the regular dodecahedron;]\nand this the Deity employed in tracing the plan of the universe.[317]\n\nXXX.\u2014Should any one then, after careful consideration of all these\npoints, be at a loss to determine whether the number of worlds is\ninfinite or finite,[318] let him consider that to admit an infinite\nnumber thereof, would be the notion only of one who is ignorant of all\nthat he should best know. Still it may with much propriety be questioned\nwhether there is in reality only one world, or whether there are five.\nAccording to our opinion, indeed, which is founded on probable\nreasoning, there is but one world; though others perhaps, regarding the\nquestion in another point of view, may be of a different opinion. Let us\nnow leave alone further speculations of this kind, and returning to the\nelementary forms that have now been created in our discussion, let us\nassign them respectively to fire, earth, water, and air. To earth,\nindeed, let us assign a cubical form; for of all the four kinds earth is\nthe most immoveable, and is of all bodies the most easy to model,\u2014such\nbeing necessarily the case with that which has the most secure bases.\nAmong the triangles, then, that we originally mentioned, that which has\nequal sides possesses firmer bases than one having unequal sides; and of\nthe two equilateral plane figures thus formed, the square has\nnecessarily a firmer base than the triangle, whether considered with\nreference to its parts or the whole. On this account, in assigning this\nfigure to the earth, we still preserve probability;\u2014and we shall do this\nalso by assigning to water that figure which is the least moveable of\nthe whole, to fire that which is most so, and to air that which is\nintermediate between the two,\u2014assigning also the smallest body to fire,\nthe greatest to water, and to air one of a size intermediate between\nfire and water;\u2014and again, the most subtile body to fire, the next in\nthis respect to air, and the third to water. Among all these then, that\nbody which possesses the fewest bases must necessarily be the most\neasily moveable, as well as most penetrating, and in every way most\nacute, being also exceedingly light, from being composed of the smallest\npossible number of elements:\u2014and so also the second has these properties\nin a secondary degree, and the third in the third degree. Let it be\nagreed then, that, according both to strict and probable reasoning, the\nsolid form of the pyramid is the element and germ of fire; that the\nsecond form described is air; and the third water. All these elements\nthen, we must conceive to be so minutely small, that the individual\nparts of each kind may from their smallness escape notice, and yet when\nmany of them are collected together, they become from their bulk the\nobjects of our perception.[319] Moreover, as respects their relative\nproportions, numbers, motions, and other properties, the Deity, so far\nas the nature of necessity has willingly and obediently given way, has\nfirmly established and united them together in just proportion.[320]\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 317:\n\n  On these geometric forms or elementary particles, we must refer the\n  reader to Martin\u2019s _\u00c9tudes sur le Tim\u00e9e_, notes 66-69, ii. pp.\n  234-250, where the whole subject is exceedingly well explained and\n  illustrated.\n\nFootnote 318:\n\n  It was the opinion of Democritus that the worlds are infinite; and the\n  same notion was afterwards entertained by Epicurus. Comp. Diog. Laert.\n  ix. sect. 44, and Cic. Acad. Q. iv. 17.\n\nFootnote 319:\n\n  Gr. \u03be\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03b8\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03c3\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u1f44\u03b3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f41\u03c1\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9.\n\nFootnote 320:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u03b1\u03cd\u03c4\u1fc3 \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u1fc3 \u03b4\u03b9\u2019 \u1f00\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03b2\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f51\u03c0\u2019 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03be\u03c5\u03bd\u03b7\u03c1\u03bc\u03cc\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9\n  \u03c4\u03b1\u1fe6\u03c4\u03b1 \u1f00\u03bd\u1f70 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd. Here is an awkward anacoluthon from the introduction\n  of the passive perfect \u03be\u03c5\u03bd\u03b7\u03c1\u03bc\u03cc\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9, for which Stephens suggested, as\n  an emendation, \u03be\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03cc\u03c3\u03b1\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n-----\n\nXXXI.\u2014From all then that we have before said about the nature of these\nbodies, the following account seems to be the most probable:\u2014Earth, when\nit meets with fire, and is dissolved by its subtility, is borne along\nhither and thither in a dissolved state either in the fire itself, or in\nthe air, or in the water,\u2014till its parts, meeting together, and again\nmutually harmonizing, once more become earth; for they can never take\nany other form. But water, when divided by fire or air, may, by the\nre-composition of its parts, become either one body of fire, or two\nbodies of air;\u2014and as for the air, when it is decomposed, one only of\nits particles will produce two of fire. And again, likewise, when fire\nreceives into itself either air or water or earth, though in small\nquantities relatively to the mass which contains it, if it be dragged\nalong by the movements of these bodies and overcome in spite of all\nresistance, and at last be decomposed and broken in pieces, these two\nbodies of fire will coalesce into one of air; and if again the air is\novercome and separated into parts, then from two wholes and a half there\nwill be formed one whole body of water. Again, let us consider this\nmatter as follows:\u2014When any one of the other forms is enclosed by fire,\nand is cut by the acuteness of its angles and sides, it escapes further\ndivision by passing into the nature of fire:\u2014for among bodies that are\nuniform and similar to each other, no one by itself can cause any change\nin one of the same class, or experience any itself, with respect to that\nwhich it resembles; whereas, when one class of bodies is contained\nwithin another, and the weak one contends with the stronger, it will not\nfail to be destroyed. And again, when the smaller, being comprehended in\nthe greater, and the few by the many, are broken in pieces and\nextinguished, if they be disposed to adopt the form of the prevailing\nnature, they cease to be extinguished; and air becomes generated from\nfire,\u2014water from air:\u2014but if they attack and fall into contention with\nany of the rest that they may meet, the agitated parts continue to be\ndissolved, till being every way repulsed and dissolved, they fly to\ntheir kindred nature; or else, being overcome, and joined into one out\nof many similar to the prevailing power, they abide there in familiar\nunion. And especially, as the result of these affections, all things\nwhatever are mutually changing their positions;\u2014for the numerous\nindividuals of each class are distinguished according to their\nrespective places through the motion of their receptacle, while those\nthat are mutually dissimilar, but yet resemble others, are hurried on by\nthe concussion [of other bodies] to the place occupied by the bodies\nthey resemble. All unmixed and primary bodies then are generated from\nsuch causes as these:\u2014but that other classes of bodies are naturally\ninherent in these forms, is owing to the composition of each rudimental\npart (\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd); which not only at first produces one triangle,\npossessed of a certain magnitude, but others also, both greater and\nsmaller, equal in number to the various classes existing in the forms\nthemselves;\u2014and hence, these being mingled with themselves and each\nother, are infinite in their variety,\u2014-a fact which every one should\nconsider, who means to argue with probability respecting the nature of\nthings.\n\nXXXII.\u2014Concerning motion, then, and position, unless a person can\nclearly understand in what manner and in conjunction with what these two\ntake place, he will meet with many hindrances in the subsequent part of\nthis discourse. This matter indeed we have already partly discussed; but\nbesides this, we must still inquire whether it be true, that motion\nnever willingly resides in smoothness, inasmuch as it is difficult, or\nrather impossible, to conceive the existence of anything moving without\na mover, or of a mover without something in motion;\u2014motion being\nimpossible while these are away, and it being equally impossible that\nthese should be equable and smooth. Thus, then, we must assign a state\nof rest to smoothness, and motion to that which is unequal and rough;\ninequality indeed being the cause again of a rough uneven nature. Now,\nas regards the generation of inequality, that we have already discussed;\nbut how the several bodies, when divided according to their classes, do\nnot cease from their mutual courses and motions, this we did not\nexplain:\u2014and so we will once more make it the subject of inquiry. The\nrevolution of the universe, since it comprehends the various classes of\nthings, and is of circular shape and naturally desirous of uniting with\nitself, compresses all things together, and suffers no place to remain\nvoid. On this account is it, that fire most of all penetrates through\neverything, and air, in the next degree, being second to the former in\nsubtility and tenuity;\u2014and the rest in the same way [according to their\ndegree:]\u2014for such as are composed of very large parts have a very large\nvacuity in their composition,\u2014those, on the contrary, that are very\nsmall, a very small vacuity. The union, then, resulting from compression\ndrives together the small parts into the intervals of the larger; and\nthus, the small parts being placed side by side with the large, the\nsmaller dividing the greater, while the latter compress the smaller,\nthey are all borne upwards and downwards to the places respectively\nsuitable to each;\u2014for each, on changing its magnitude, changes its\nposition likewise: and so, from these causes the production of diversity\nis constantly maintained, giving that perpetual motion to these bodies,\nwhich both now subsists and ever will continue.\n\nXXXIII.\u2014In the next place, we must understand that there are many kinds\nof fire;\u2014as for instance, flame,\u2014that which emanates from flame,[321]\nwhich without burning furnishes light to the eyes,\u2014and that which abides\nin ignited bodies, even after the flame has been extinguished. In like\nmanner, with respect to air, one kind is of the greatest purity, that\ndenominated _\u00e6ther_,\u2014a second most turbulent, cloudy, and dark; and\nbesides these, there are other nameless kinds formed by the inequality\nof the triangles. As respects water, again, it admits of a twofold\ndivision, one kind being liquid, the other fusible. The liquid kind,\ntherefore, being composed of very small and unequal parts of water,\nbecomes moveable, both of itself and by other bodies, through the\ninequality of its composition and peculiar shape of its figure; whereas\nthe fusible kind, which is composed of large and smooth parts, is more\nstable than the former, as well as heavier and more compact, owing to\nits smoothness;[322]\u2014and when fire enters into and dissolves its\nsubstance, it becomes more moveable, from losing its uniformity; and\nwhen it is thus rendered easily moveable, and is repelled by the\nsurrounding air, and extended on the earth, it is said to be\n_liquefied_, by way of expressing the division of its masses, and is\nsaid to _flow_ also, in order to show its extension over the earth:\u2014and\nthese two words express both the changes which it undergoes. Again, when\nfire escapes from this body, it does not retire into a vacuum, but the\nsurrounding air repelled [by the fire] drives the easily-moveable mass\nof moisture into the place before occupied by the fire, with which at\nthe same time it becomes mingled;\u2014but when the mass by close compression\nonce more becomes equable and smooth, it then resumes its smoothness and\nconsistency, because fire, the artificer of inequality, has taken its\ndeparture;\u2014and this departure of fire we denominate _cooling_, while the\nunion that takes place without the presence of fire is termed a\n_condensation_ [or hardening]. But among all those which we term fusible\nfluids, there is one that becomes most dense, though formed from the\nmost subtile and equable parts, and is of an uniform character, and\npartaking of a lustrous yellow colour:\u2014it is that most highly prized\npossession,\u2014gold, which is produced by filtration through a rock. And a\nnode (\u1f44\u03b6\u03bf\u03c2) of gold, rendered by its density very hard and turned black,\nis called _adamant_. But that which consists of parts greatly resembling\ngold, and has more than one species, which surpasses gold in density,\nand that it may become the harder, contains but a small and\ninsignificant portion of earth, though at the same time it is lighter,\nowing to the great intervals between its internal atoms;\u2014this is a\nseparate kind of lustrous and dense fluids, termed _brass_. But an\nearthy nature is therewith mingled, which, when through age the two\nparts become separated soon becomes visible of itself, and is\ndenominated _rust_. All other such matters also, it would be no hard\ntask further to discuss by pursuing the plan of probable arguments;\u2014and\nany one, who by way of recreation interrupts for a while his reasonings\non eternal being, and enters into probable speculations about the\ngeneration of material things, will by these means acquire a pleasure of\nwhich he need not repent, and establish for himself a moderate and wise\nrecreation during life.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 321:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u03cc \u03c4\u03b5 \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c6\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c0\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd. The old editions read \u1f01\u03c0\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd.\n\nFootnote 322:\n\n  The distinction between \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f51\u03b3\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd and \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c7\u03c5\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd is not easily conveyed\n  in translation. The former means an elastic fluid like water,\u2014the\n  latter, a mass of greater density and less elasticity, such as jelly,\n  syrup, or oil. We have rendered it _fused_, because in the next page\n  the term is used respecting metals.\n\n-----\n\nXXXIV.\u2014Thus indulging ourselves, let us next recount certain probable\nreasons concerning what next follows of the same subject. Water that is\nmingled with fire, which being very thin and moist, takes its name[323]\n(\u1f51\u03b3\u03c1\u1f78\u03bd) from its motion and the manner in which it rolls on the earth,\nand which is also called soft and yielding, because its bases are less\nstable than those of earth,\u2014this, when separated from fire and bereft of\nair, acquires more uniformity, and through their departure (_i. e._ of\nair and fire) is compressed into itself;\u2014and when it is thus condensed\nabove the earth, it becomes hail, if on the earth, ice; but when there\nis less of it and only half the amount of freezing, [the water so\ncondensed] above the earth becomes snow, and that on the earth, which is\nformed from dew, is called hoar-frost. When again the numerous kinds of\nwater are mingled together, the entire liquid thus formed, which is\nfiltered from the earth through plants, takes the name of juices or\nsaps. Owing, however, to their mode of admixture, these individual\nfluids present through their dissimilarity many different undescribed\nvarieties, although four of them, which are of a fiery character, and\nparticularly transparent, have obtained appropriate appellations;\u2014that\nwhich heats the soul as well as the body being called _wine_,\u2014secondly,\nthat which is smooth, and dazzling to the sight,[324] and hence bright,\nglittering, and apparently of an oily nature, such as pitch, the gum of\nthe kiki-plant,[325] oil, and other things having similar\nproperties;\u2014again, that which possesses a power, as far as nature\npermits, of diffusing the substances of nutrition over the palate, and\nby this property presents the idea of sweetness, has obtained the\ngeneral name of _honey_;\u2014and lastly, that frothy fluid, which dissolves\nthe flesh by burning, has been distinguished from all the other juices\nby the name of _opium_ (\u1f40\u03c0\u03cc\u03c2).\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 323:\n\n  The Greek text is evidently corrupt. It stands as follows:\u2014\u03c4\u1f78\u2014\u2014\u1f55\u03b4\u03c9\u03c1,\n  \u1f45\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd \u03bb\u03b5\u03c0\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f51\u03b3\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03ba\u03af\u03bd\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f41\u03b4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f23\u03bd \u03ba\u03c5\u03bb\u03b9\u03bd\u03b4\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76\n  \u03b3\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f51\u03b3\u03c1\u1f78\u03bd \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, &c. Stallbaum suggests the removal of the last\n  \u1f51\u03b3\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd, and the insertion of \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03af after \u03ba\u03c5\u03bb\u03b9\u03bd\u03b4\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd. This suggestion\n  has been followed in our translation.\n\nFootnote 324:\n\n  Gr. \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd \u1f44\u03c8\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2, lit. _having the power of separating sight_.\n\nFootnote 325:\n\n  This is the same as the \u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03cd\u03c0\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd or _Palma Christi_. Comp. Herod.\n  ii. 94, and D. Turner\u2019s note thereon.\n\n-----\n\nXXXV.\u2014As respects the different kinds of earth, one of them, stone, is\nproduced by the filtration of water in the manner following. The\ncommingled water, when it loses its coherence, passes into the form of\nair, but, on becoming air, rises to its appropriate place. As, however,\nthere is no vacuum, it presses on the surrounding air; and this, being\nweighty, and impelled against the mass of earth that it surrounds,\nviolently compresses it, driving it into the vacant spaces whence the\nnew air had before ascended. The earth, also, by the compression of the\nair into indissoluble union with water, is formed into stones; the more\nbeautiful sorts of which acquire a lustre from the equality and\nsmoothness of their parts, the opposite being the case with those that\nare ugly and valueless. But when all the moisture is thrown off by the\nviolence of fire, and the body is thus unusually dried up, then is\nformed the kind of earth that we call clay. Sometimes also, even without\nlosing its moisture, the earth is fused by the fire, and on cooling\nbecomes a stone of a black colour.[326] In the same manner, when this\nearth is deprived of the water it holds in mixture, but yet has small\nparticles and is of a saline nature, it forms a half-solid body, still\ncapable of solution in water,\u2014either nitre, which purifies both oil and\nearth, or else salt, a substance so well adapted to give flavours\npleasing to the palate, and deemed by the law as agreeable to the gods.\nThe compounds of these two substances are not soluble by water, but yet\ncan be melted by fire, for the following reasons. Neither fire nor air\nliquefies masses of earth; because, being naturally composed of elements\nsmaller than the interstices (or pores) of earth, they easily penetrate\nthrough these capacious pores without subjecting it either to\ndissolution or liquefaction. The parts of water, on the other hand, as\nthey are larger, strive to force a passage, and so dissolve and liquefy\nthe earthy mass:\u2014and hence, when the earth has no strong consistency,\nwater alone will dissolve it, whereas if in a compact state, nothing\nwill affect it but fire, which is the only body that can find an\nentrance. As for water, again, its strong cohesiveness of parts, [when\nfrozen], can be overcome only by fire, whereas, when the cohesion is\nless strong, it can be equally decomposed by fire and air, the latter\nentering its interstices and the former separating even its constituent\ntriangles. Nothing, however, can dissolve air strongly condensed,\nwithout attacking its composing elements; though when it coheres less\nstrongly, it may be dissolved, though only by fire. Again, in bodies\ncomposed of water and earth, while the water occupies all the\ninterstices in its state of compression, the particles of water from\nwithout, not finding egress, flow round the entire mass without\nsuffering decomposition; whereas the particles of fire that enter into\nthe interstices of water, as water into those of earth, and have the\nsame effect on water that fire has on air, alone possess the power of\ndissolving and liquefying the compound body. And among these, some\ncontain less water than earth; such as all kinds of glass, and such\nstones as are termed fusible; while others, on the contrary, contain\nmore water, such as wax and aromatic substances.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 326:\n\n  Lindau conjectures this to be _basalt_. It is probably lava, or some\n  similar volcanic product. The same commentator conceives the \u03bb\u03af\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\n  mentioned in the succeeding sentence to be _potash_ or some alkali\n  suitable for mingling with oil to form soap.\n\n-----\n\nXXXVI.\u2014Having thus then enumerated the several figures and classes of\nbodies variously formed by admixtures and mutual changes, we must now\ntry to explain the causes of the feelings with which they impress us.\nFirst, then, the bodies here spoken of must be always perceptible. As\nyet, however, we have not discoursed on the generation of flesh, and\nwhat belongs to flesh, nor on that part of the soul which is mortal.\nThis nevertheless cannot be suitably explained without at the same time\nexplaining the sensations and impressions produced by external objects;\nand although one subject cannot be unfolded without a knowledge of the\nother, yet the two cannot be explained together. We must settle one\nfirst, and then proceed to the other. In order, then, in speaking of\nimpressions, to observe the same order as in speaking of the bodies\nproducing them, let our first inquiry be into those that concern the\nbody and soul.\n\nFirst, then, let us inquire why fire is called _hot_, the reason of\nwhich we shall perceive by considering its penetrating and cutting power\nabout our bodies. Now, that this affection is a certain sharpness[327]\nis nearly evident to all; and as regards the tenuity of its sides, the\nsharpness of its angles, the smallness of its particles, and the\nvelocity of its motion, through all which it becomes violent,\npenetrating and capable of instantly dividing whatever it meets; this we\nshould carefully consider, recalling to mind the generation of its\nfigure;\u2014inasmuch as it is this, and no other nature, which separates and\nparcels out our bodies into small portions, and produces in us that\naffection which is very properly denominated _heat_. Now the contrary to\nthis is sufficiently manifest; but still we must not pass it without\nexplanation:\u2014for in truth, among the humid particles surrounding the\nbody, those that have the largest elementary parts enter and drive out\nthe smaller; but being unable to occupy their places, they compress our\nbodily humours, and from being uneven and in a state of agitation, fix\nthem and render them motionless through their evenness and\ndensity;\u2014whereas things brought into contact against nature are\nnaturally opposed and mutually repel each other. From this contest and\nagitation then there resulted a certain trembling and numbness; and the\nwhole of this affection, as well as the cause that produces it, has the\nname of cold. Again we call those bodies _hard_ to which our flesh\nyields; and those _soft_, which yield to the pressure of our flesh;\u2014thus\nusing the terms comparatively, with reference to each other. Bodies also\nyield to pressure when placed on a small base, while those resting on\nquadrangular bases are the least impressible, owing to their very firm\nposition, and because from their own extreme density they strongly\nresist all opposing pressure.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 327:\n\n  Gr. \u1f40\u03be\u03cd \u03c4\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03ac\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2,\u2014meaning, that the affection resembles the\n  impression formed by an acute angular body.\n\n-----\n\nXXXVII.\u2014Again, the nature of heavy and light will become most evident,\nif investigated with that of _up_ and _down_;\u2014for it is by no means\nright to assert that there are naturally two distinct places opposite\none to the other;\u2014one termed _down_, to which all bodies tend that are\nendued with bulk, but the other _up_, to which bodies ascend contrary to\ntheir inclination. The whole universe, indeed, being spherical, all such\nthings as are at the extremities (or circumference) and equally distant\nfrom the centre must all in like manner naturally belong to the\nextremities, while the centre, being in the same proportion distant from\nall these extremities, must be said to occupy quite an opposite\nposition. Such then being the nature of the world, would not any one who\nreversed the position of the above-mentioned objects be fairly thought\nto apply names to them that are quite unsuitable? For the middle place\nin it cannot be fairly said to be either naturally down or up, but only\nthe centre itself; and the circumference is neither the middle, nor does\nit contain within it any parts more distant than the rest either from\nthe centre, or any of the opposite extremities. But when all the parts\nare naturally so similar, how can any one with propriety assign to them\ncontrary names?\u2014For supposing there were any regular solid body in the\ncentre of the universe, it would never be carried to any of the\nextremities, owing to their entire uniformity;\u2014but on the other hand, if\nany one were to move in a circle round this solid, he would often stand\nwith his feet opposite to where they before were, and so call the same\npart of himself both the upside and down. Since the universe, therefore,\nas we have just observed, is of a spherical figure, no prudent man\nshould assert that it has any part which is [absolutely] either up or\ndown;\u2014yet, as regards the origin and usual application of these terms\nwhich we thus transfer to the universe, this we agree to be a proper\nsubject of investigation. If, in that spot of the universe which\nspecially belongs to fire, and where the principal mass is collected\nwith which it has a tendency to unite, any one were to ascend thither\nand being possessed of the requisite power, were to take up the\nparticles, place them in a balance, and raising the scale, were forcibly\nto draw the fire towards the air, with which it has no affinity, it is\nclear that in this case the smaller mass would be more easily impelled\nthan the larger. Indeed, when two things are simultaneously raised by\none and the same power, the smaller quantity must of course yield more\nreadily than the greater to the impulsive force by which they are\nconstrained; and hence, the one is called _heavy_ and gravitating\ndownwards, the other _light_ and tending upwards. The same thing also is\nobservable in what we ourselves do, who inhabit this place [the earth].\nFor when, in walking on the earth, we separate particles of an earthy\nnature, and sometimes even portions of the earth itself, forcibly and\nunnaturally drawing them towards the air which is dissimilar,\u2014then that\nwhich is smaller yielding more readily to our impulse is sooner\nattracted towards the foreign element:\u2014this then we call _light_ and the\nplace towards which it is drawn, _up_ (or _above_), giving to their\ncontraries the terms _heavy_ and _down_ (or _below_) respectively. Hence\nthese must mutually differ from each other, owing to the contrary\npositions that the several elements occupy:\u2014for that which is light in\none place is contrary to one corresponding with it in an opposite\nposition, and so also to a heavy body another that is heavy, and to\nbodies placed above or below others, opposed to them in their respective\npositions;\u2014and they will all be found, whether in a state of becoming or\nactually existing, to be contrary, transverse, and every way differing\nfrom each other. This one thing, moreover, is to be understood\nconcerning all these matters, that the tendency of each towards a body\nof similar nature gives to the body so attracted the name _heavy_, and\nthe place to which it tends, _down_ (or _below_); and thus to contrary\nthings are assigned contrary appellations. Such are the causes that we\nassign to these phenomena. And again, as to the cause of the impression\nof smoothness and roughness, every one who has investigated it will be\nable to disclose it to others; for roughness comes from hardness joined\nwith unevenness, while smoothness is the united effect of uniformity and\ndensity.\n\nXXXVIII.\u2014It remains for us now to consider what is most important in\nthose affections common to the whole body, which are the chief causes\nof pleasure and pain, and to inquire how it is that certain\nimpressions excite through the parts of the body certain sensations\ninvariably attended by pleasure and pain. Thus then let us examine all\nour impressions, whether sensible or not, calling to mind the\ndistinctions that we before made between bodies moved with ease and\nthose with difficulty;\u2014for this is the way to arrive at the point that\nwe wish to determine. When a body by nature easily moveable has\nreceived an impression ever so slight, the several parts communicate\nit to the parts placed around them, producing on these parts the same\neffect, until at length they reach the intellect itself, to which they\nannounce the power of the agents producing such impression;\u2014whereas a\nbody, which on the contrary is firm and stable and has no circular\nmotion, is simply affected by itself without moving any of the\nsurrounding bodies; and hence, as their components do not mutually\ncommunicate the first received impression, the entire animal remains\nunmoved, and experiences no sensation. This is the case indeed as\nrespects the bones and hair, and such other parts of the body as are\nchiefly of an earthy nature; whereas the phenomena above described\nprincipally refer to the organs of sight and hearing, which contain an\nabundance of fire and air. This is what we should hold then concerning\npleasure and pain:\u2014an impression produced in us contrary to nature,\nand with violence, causes pain,\u2014one that is conformable to our nature,\nhowever strong, pleasure;\u2014whereas an impression that is gentle and\ngradual is unperceived, while the contrary to these produces contrary\neffects. An impression, again, the whole of which is easily produced,\nis pre-eminently an object of sensation, but is not affected by\npleasure and pain:\u2014and of this kind are the affections belonging to\nthe sight; which indeed, as we have above asserted, is a body of a\nnature daily becoming allied to ourselves.[328] For in this way the\nimpressions caused by cuttings and burnings, and other similar\naccidents, do not cause pain to the sight; nor again, does it\nexperience pleasure, from returning to its previous condition:\u2014whereas\nthe sensations that are strongest and most clear do this, so far as\nany one is affected by any object; and this is the reason why there is\nno violence whatever either in its expansion or contraction. But\nbodies composed from larger parts, which yield with difficulty to\nimpelling agents, and distribute their motion over the whole body, do\nexperience pleasure and pain; pain indeed, when they are often\nalienated from their own nature, but pleasure when restored to their\nformer condition. Again, all bodies that admit of very gradual\nwithdrawals, and, as it were, emptyings of their own nature, and at\nthe same time receive supplies on a large scale, have no perception of\nloss, though they have of what accrues to them; and hence, they do not\ngive pain to the mortal part of the soul, but on the contrary the\ngreatest delight:\u2014and the truth of this is manifest from the sensation\nof pleasant odours. But such bodies, on the other hand, as suffer\nexcessive variation, and can scarcely be restored even gradually to\ntheir pristine condition, are affected in a manner quite the reverse\nof those we have just described; the truth of which is manifest in the\ncase of burnings and wounds inflicted on the body.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 328:\n\n  Allusion is here made to ch. xix. p. 350 of this translation.\n\n-----\n\nXXXIX.\u2014Having thus then pretty fully discussed the common affections of\nthe whole body, and the appellations assigned to their effective causes,\nwe must now endeavour to explain, as far as we can, the affections that\narise in particular parts of us, as well as the causes by which they are\ninduced. In the first place then, let us if possible complete the\nexplanation of what we before left unfinished about those of the\njuices\u2014namely, the particular affections subsisting about the\ntongue.[329] And these, as well as most others, appear to be produced by\ncertain expansions and contractions, the impressions formed thereby\ndepending more on smoothness and roughness than all other circumstances;\nbecause, whenever anything falls on the small veins round the tongue\n(which are the arbiters, as it were, of the taste stretching to the\nheart), in such a way as to penetrate the moist and delicate texture of\nthe flesh, which through its earthy nature is in a melting state, it\ncontracts and dries up the veins:\u2014and where these penetrating substances\nare rougher than usual, they have an acrid taste (\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03c5\u03c6\u03bd\u03ac), if less so,\nonly one of sourness (\u03b1\u1f50\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1\u03ac). Those on the contrary which purge, and\nwash away whatever adheres to the tongue, if they do this to such an\nimmoderate degree, as somewhat to liquefy its nature, as nitre does;\u2014all\nsuch as these are termed _bitter_; while substances of inferior power to\nnitre, which purge only moderately, we conceive to be _salt_, without\nthat rough bitterness, and to be more friendly to our nature. Again,\nthings heated by the temperature of the mouth, and thereby\nsoftened\u2014which reciprocally heat and are heated by it\u2014and which through\ntheir lightness are elevated towards the senses of the head, dividing at\nthe same time whatever comes in their way;\u2014all these, owing to such\nproperties, are termed _pungent_ (\u03b4\u03c1\u03b9\u03bc\u03ad\u03b1). But when these same\nparticles, thinned by putrefaction, enter into the narrow veins, and\nthere come into contact with earthy and airy particles of a suitable\nsize, and by making them mutually revolve, so mix them together as to\ncause a confusion of their elements, and thus by entering other veins\nform interstices in which the liquid, sometimes earthy, sometimes quite\npure, forms, as it were, certain air-cavities enclosed by water, some of\nwhich formed of pure liquid are transparent, and called _bubbles_, while\nthose composed of earthy liquid and in a state of agitation have\nreceived the name of seething (or boiling), and yeast (or leven);\u2014the\neffective cause of all this being termed _acid_ (\u1f40\u03be\u03cd). And an affection\ncontrary to all that has been asserted about these, proceeds from a\ncontrary cause; for, when the liquid compounds that enter the mouth are\nnaturally suited to the quality of the tongue, they lubricate its\nasperities, as well as contract or relax such parts as were before\nunnaturally dilated or compressed, and restore them, as far as possible,\nto their proper and natural habit. Hence all such substances are\npleasant and friendly to every one, become the remedies of violent\npassions, and are denominated _sweet_. And thus much may suffice\nconcerning particulars of this kind.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 329:\n\n  Plato was not aware that the palate is the chief organ of taste, and\n  that these sensations are transmitted to the sensorium by means of\n  nerves (_i. e._ minute tubes filled with cerebral matter), all of\n  which communicate either with the spinal marrow or the brain\n  itself,\u2014the centre of all sensation, as Herophilus and Erasistratus\n  held long prior to Galen. Plato, on the contrary, maintained that\n  these sensations were carried by certain small veins (or arteries,\u2014for\n  he makes no distinction between them), to the liver\u2014regarded by him as\n  the seat (comp. ch. xliv.) of the lower mortal soul. The heart was\n  regarded by Aristotle as the centre of the sensations.\n\n-----\n\nXL.\u2014As respects the faculty of the nostrils, it admits of no\nclassification: for all odours whatever are but half-begotten,\u2014there\nbeing no substances so proportioned, as to give forth any particular\nsmell. Besides, our veins surrounding the nose are too narrow to admit\nthe various kinds of earth and water, and too broad for those of fire\nand air; and hence no one ever perceives an odour from any of\nthese,\u2014odours being produced from bodies that are damp, putrefying,\nliquid, or vaporous;\u2014for odours are generated by the change of water\ninto air, or air into water; and all these are either smoke or vapour.\nAnd of these, that which passes from air into water is _vapour_,\u2014that\nwhich is changed from water into air, _smoke_;\u2014whence it comes to pass\nthat all odours are more subtile than water, and denser than air. And\nthese facts are clearly shown, when any one, owing to any obstruction of\nthe respiration, draws his breath inwards; for then no odour filters\nthrough, but breath only\u2014unattended by any odours. This is why these two\nvarieties of them are without a name, being formed neither from many nor\nfrom a simple species, the only two distinct terms respecting them,\nbeing _pleasant_ or _unpleasant_; the latter of which irritate and\nviolently disturb the whole cavity lying between the top of the head and\nthe navel, while the former soothe the same part, and kindly restore it\nto its natural condition.\n\nXLI.\u2014Let us next speak of and investigate the third kind of sense,\u2014the\nhearing, and the causes giving rise to the affections peculiar thereto.\nNow we may generally define _voice_ as a certain pulsation of the air,\npenetrating through the ears, brain, and blood, as far as the soul; and\nthe motion hence arising, which commences from the head and ends in the\nseat of the liver, _hearing_;\u2014and that when this motion is swift, it\nemits a sharp sound, when slow, a flat one,\u2014the former being uniform and\nsmooth, the latter quite the reverse and rough:\u2014likewise, that when the\nmotion is on a large scale it will produce a loud sound, and when on a\nsmall scale only a low one. But respecting the harmony of these sounds\nwe must speak in the subsequent part of this discourse.\n\nXLII.\u2014The fourth kind of sense, which is still left for us to discuss,\ncomprises a very large variety of what we generally term _colours_,\nwhich consist of a flame emanating from individual bodies, and having\nparts proportioned to the sight for producing sensation. But we have\nalready considered the effective causes of sight.[330] Here then we\nought to speak of colours, and what seems to us the most probable theory\nrespecting them.\n\nAmong the particles that fall from other bodies on the sight, some are\ngreater, others less than, and others equal to, those of the visual\nfire. Such as are equal, then, are imperceptible, and are termed\ntransparent; while, as for those that are larger or smaller, the former\ncontract, the latter dilate the sight, having a power resembling that of\nheat and cold on the flesh, or of things acrid, heating and pungent, on\nthe tongue. Particles affecting the sight in this manner are called\nblack and white;\u2014having the property, indeed, of producing the same\nmodifications in bodies, though, being produced in different parts of\nthe organ, they still appear to produce different impressions. It is\nthus, then, that we ought to term them,\u2014_white_, that which dilates the\nsight; and that which is opposite in its effect, _black_;\u2014whereas, when\na sharper motion, and that, too, from a foreign fire, falls on and\ndivides the sight even as far as the eyes themselves, and both separates\nand moistens the openings of the eyes, so as to force from them that\nunited flow of fire and water that we call tears, and which are of a\nfiery nature coming from without,\u2014these two fires meeting together with\na force like that of lightning, and then saturated and extinguished by\nmoisture, produce a great variety of colours, the impressions from which\nwe term _flashings_ (\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c5\u03b3\u03ac\u03c2), and the objects producing them\n_bright_ and _lustrous_. Another kind of fire, intermediate between\nthose just mentioned, and which reaches the moisture of the eyes, and\nmingles with it, though by no means lustrous, and in which the rays of\nfire are mingled with moisture, and form a bloody colour; this we\ndenominate _red_. A bright hue mingled with red and white forms the\ncolour called _yellow_; but as regards the measure in which they mingle\nrespectively, even a wise and thinking person could not explain it, were\nhe ever so well informed on the matter, as he could not adduce\nconcerning them any satisfactory reason, either necessary or probable.\nAgain, red, when mingled with black and white, produces a _purple_\ncolour; and a very deep colour is the result of their being mingled and\nburnt together, with a further addition of black. A _tawny red_ is\nproduced from the mixture of yellow and brown, and _brown_ from the\nmixture of black and white; and a pale colour from the mingling of white\nand yellow. A brilliant white, falling on a large quantity of black,\nconstitutes a _dark blue_ (\u03ba\u03c5\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd); a deep blue mingled with white, a\n_grey_ colour; and a tawny red mingled with black forms a _green_. All\nthe other tints it will be easy to conjecture from the above examples,\nif one only reasons fairly from analogy. Nevertheless, any one who would\nprove them by the test of experiment evinces great ignorance of the\ndifference between a divine and human nature; for a god indeed may be\nable to mingle many things into one, and again dissolve the one into\nmany, through his united power and intelligence; but no man living can\naccomplish either of these tasks, nor will any one in time to come.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 330:\n\n  Comp. ch. xix. p. 350-352 of this volume.\n\n-----\n\nXLIII.\u2014All these things which thus naturally subsist from necessity, the\nartificer of what is most beautiful and best took for his elements of\ncreation, in producing a self-sufficient and most perfect god; employing\nsecondary causes indeed, but at the same time performing his work well\non all created beings. For this reason we must distinguish two species\nof causes; the one necessary, the other divine. And in all things we\nshould inquire after the divine cause, with the view of obtaining a\nblessed life in the highest degree of which our nature admits, for the\nsake of which also we should investigate the necessary cause as\nwell,\u2014convinced, that without these two classes of causes, we can\nneither understand nor apprehend, nor otherwise engage in the several\nobjects of our anxious pursuit. Since, then, we have now before us the\nvarious classes of causes, laid out like materials for our labour, and\nwhich will serve as the matter from which we are to interweave the\nremainder of our discourse, let us again briefly recur to our first\nobservations, and thence pass rapidly on to the place at which we are\nnow arrived; thus endeavouring to annex such an end and close to our\ndiscourse, as may harmonize with its beginning.\n\nXLIV. Just as we stated in the opening of our discourse,\u2014when all\nsensible things were in disorder, the Deity made each individually to\nharmonize with itself and mutually with all the rest, so far as things\ncould possibly be brought into symmetry and proportion; because\nformerly, nothing had any order except by accident, nor did anything\nwhatever deserve the names that things receive at present; such, for\ninstance, as fire, water, and the rest of the elements. All these,\nhowever, the Creator put in order first of all, and then out of these\nconstructed the universe, as a single animal, containing within itself\ndifferent kinds of animals, mortal and immortal,[331]\u2014he himself being\nthe artificer of Divine natures, but committing to his offspring (the\njunior gods) the charge of producing those that are mortal. The latter,\nin imitation of their father, receiving the immortal principle of the\nsoul, next fashioned[332] the mortal body, making it entirely to be a\nvehicle thereto, and forming within it a separate mortal kind of soul,\npossessed of certain dire and necessary passions: first, pleasure, the\nchief lure to evil; next, pain, the desertion of what is good;\u2014after\nthese again, temerity and fear, both mad advisers; anger, hard to be\nappeased; hope, which is easily misled both by irrational sense, and\nall-daring love. By mingling these together, they [the junior gods]\nnecessarily composed the mortal race. And on this account, fearing to\ndefile the Divine nature more than was absolutely necessary they lodged\nman\u2019s mortal portion separately from the Divine, in a different\nreceptacle of the body; forming the head and breast, and placing the\nneck between, as an isthmus and limit to separate the two extremes.[333]\n\nIn the breast, indeed, and what is called the thorax [or trunk],[334]\nthey seated the mortal part of the soul. And as one part of it was\nnaturally better, and another worse, they formed the cavity of the\nthorax into two divisions (resembling the separate dwellings of our men\nand women), placing the midriff as a partition between them. That part\nof the soul, therefore, which partakes of fortitude and spirit, and\nloves contention, they seated nearer the head, between the midriff and\nthe neck; as it is the business of the reason to unite with it in\nforcibly repressing the desires, whenever they will not obey the mandate\nand word issuing from the citadel above.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 331:\n\n  Comp. ch. xi. p. 335 of this translation, and also the concluding\n  sentence of the dialogue, p. 409.\n\nFootnote 332:\n\n  Gr. \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03b5\u03c4\u03cc\u03c1\u03bd\u03b5\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd, lit. _turned in a lathe_.\n\nFootnote 333:\n\n  The _immortal_ soul Plato has already (ch. xix. xx.) placed in the\n  head,\u2014in which opinion Hippocrates and Galen both coincide;\u2014and he\n  composed it of two circles, and endowed it with three\n  faculties\u2014intelligence (\u03bd\u03cc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2), science (\u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03bc\u03b7), and true opinion\n  (\u03b4\u03cc\u03be\u03b1 \u1f00\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u03ae\u03c2). Here, however, he speaks of the _mortal_ or sensuous\n  soul, which he divides into two distinct parts,\u2014the _male_ or\n  spiritual portion (\u03c4\u1f78 \u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd), and the _female_ or appetitive (\u03c4\u1f78\n  \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd). This seems to have been a notion of the Pythagoreans.\n  Aristotle and Zeno placed the mortal soul in the heart only. On the\n  three souls and their respective energies, comp. Martin\u2019s admirable\n  note, vol. ii. pp. 296-302, _\u00c9tudes, &c._\n\nFootnote 334:\n\n  Gr. \u03b8\u03ce\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03b9, a word used by Plato and Aristotle to mean not merely the\n  upper part of the trunk, as by later writers, but the whole of it,\n  from the collar-bone down to the pelvis. The word \u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\u03bb\u03af\u03b1 in ch. xlvi.\n  has a similar latitude of signification.\n\n-----\n\nXLV.\u2014The heart, which is the head and principle[335] of the veins, as\nwell as the fountain of the blood that impetuously circulates through\nall the members, they placed in a kind of sentry-house, that, in case of\nany outburst of anger, being informed by the reason of any evil\ncommitted in its members, owing either to some foreign cause, or else\ninternal passions, it (the heart) might transmit through all its\nchannels the threatenings and exhortations of reason, so as once more to\nreduce the body to perfect obedience, and so permit what is the best\nwithin us to maintain supreme command.\n\nBut as the gods foreknew, with respect to the palpitation of the heart\nunder the dread of danger and the excitements of passion, that all such\nswellings of the inflamed spirit would be produced by fire, they formed\nthe lungs to be a sort of protection thereto; first, of all, soft and\nbloodless,[336] and next, internally provided with cavities perforated\nlike a sponge, in order to cool the breath which they receive, and give\nthe heart easy respiration and repose in its excessive heat. On this\naccount then, they led the channels of the windpipe into the lungs,\nwhich they placed like a soft cushion round the heart, in order that\nwhen anger rises in it to an extreme height, it might fall on some\nyielding substance, and so getting cool, yield cheerfully and with less\ntrouble to the authority of reason.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 335:\n\n  Gr. \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u1f74\u03bd. This reading is introduced by Stallbaum (and followed by\n  Cousin) from three of the best MSS. The old editions have \u1f05\u03bc\u03b1, which\n  Stephens altered into \u1f05\u03bc\u03bc\u03b1 (_a knot_ or ganglion), and Toup into \u03bd\u1fb6\u03bc\u03b1,\n  both on mere conjecture. Plato clearly thought that the heart was the\n  source of the blood and the centre of union for the veins, which he\n  regards as messengers transmitting to the whole body the orders coming\n  from the male part of the mortal soul; but he runs into the error of\n  attributing to them the function of nerves, as well of motion as\n  sensation. We may remark further, that he considers the veins to have\n  two centres\u2014the heart and the liver, which are the two seats of the\n  mortal soul, and makes no distinction whatever between veins and\n  arteries. See Martin\u2019s note, 140; ii. 301-304.\n\nFootnote 336:\n\n  Plato is quite wrong in stating this;\u2014for all the blood passes through\n  them, in order to be supplied with oxygen by the air contained in the\n  cells. This, however, is not nearly so great an error as his statement\n  in ch. lxxiii. (speaking of generation), that the fluids we drink pass\n  through the lungs into the bladder!\n\n-----\n\nXLVI. That part of the soul next, which has a desire for meats, drinks,\nand all else that is necessary for the natural supplies of the body,\nthey placed between the midriff and the region of the navel; forming, as\nit were, in all this place a sort of manger for the nutriment of the\nbody; and then they bound it on to it, like some savage animal, annexed\nas necessary to nourish the mortal race afterwards to be brought into\nexistence. This place of course the gods assigned it, in order that ever\nfeeding at its manger, and dwelling as far off as possible from the\ndeliberative part of the soul, it might make the least possible degree\nof tumult and noise, and permit the best portion of our nature to\nconsult in quiet for the common benefit of the whole. Knowing also that\nthis part would not acquiesce with the reason, and, even if it had any\nfaculty of sense, yet would not regard the processes of reasoning, but\nbe chiefly lured away, both day and night, by images and\nphantasms,\u2014reflecting on this, the Deity formed the liver, assigning it\nthe place it occupies. And he made it compact and smooth, shiny and\nsweet, and yet somewhat bitter,\u2014in order that the multitude of thoughts\nfalling on it from the intellect as on a mirror that receives and\npresents images to the view, might on the one side terrify it by\nemploying a bitterness akin to its nature; and proceeding to dreadful\nthreats, gradually mingle this bitterness with the whole liver so as to\npresent the dark hues of bile, and by contracting it, render it\nthroughout rough and wrinkled;\u2014or on the other, partly by removing the\nliver from its right place and contracting it, partly by obstructing and\nclosing its ventricles and gates, cause impressions of pain and\ndisgust:\u2014whereas, on the contrary, when a gentle inspiration\u2014the result\nof intelligence\u2014depicts on it images of quite an opposite character,\nsoftens its bitterness by avoiding to agitate or touch anything contrary\nto its own nature,\u2014it then gives it a softness peculiarly its own, and\nmakes all its parts regular, polished, and free,\u2014giving joy and peace to\nthat part of the soul which resides near the liver, and making it enjoy\na suitable repose at night, with the power of divination during sleep,\nto make up for its want both of reason and wisdom.[337]\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 337:\n\n  Plato, in this purely fanciful description of the liver and spleen,\n  seems to have been ignorant of the great use of the bile in promoting\n  the digestion of the food during its passage through the duodenum; for\n  in ch. lxiv. he considers it wholly in the light of a vicious\n  secretion, though he acknowledges its presence in the healthy body as\n  exercising a great influence over dreams and divination. Aristotle,\n  while refuting Plato, is not a whit more correct as to this question\n  in the animal economy. Hist. Anim. iv. 2.\n\n-----\n\nXLVII. Those, forsooth, who created us, calling to mind their father\u2019s\ncommand, when he bid them make the mortal race as good as they possibly\ncould, formed even the inferior part of us to have some connexion with\ntruth, by establishing within it the faculty of divination. And a\nsufficiently clear proof, that the Deity assigned prophetic power[338]\nto human madness, is found in the fact that no one in his right senses\nhas any concern with divinely inspired and true prophecy, which takes\nplace only when the reasoning faculty is fettered by sleep, or alienated\nby disease or enthusiasm; while, on the other hand, it requires a person\nof considerable wisdom to understand the recorded sayings, whether\nsleeping or waking, of a prophetic and divinely-inspired nature, and so\nto distinguish all the phenomena it beholds as to be able to explain in\nwhat way and to whom they portend any future, past, or present good or\nevil; it being by no means the office of one who either has been, or is\nstill mad, to judge respecting things seen or spoken by himself:\u2014and it\nhas been well observed by the ancients, that to transact and know one\u2019s\nown concerns and oneself is alone the province of a prudent man;\u2014whence,\nindeed, the law directs that the race of prophets (or interpreters)\nshould preside as judges over divine predictions,\u2014whom some indeed call\ndiviners, through entire ignorance that they are only the representers\nof enigmas and visions, and not at all entitled to be called\ndiviners,\u2014being, strictly speaking, interpreters of prophecies.\n\nThe liver then was constructed for this purpose, and seated where we\nhave mentioned, for the sake of prediction. And besides, in every living\nindividual, this organ gives forth unusually clear indications; but in\nthose deprived of life, it becomes blind and delivers oracles too\nobscure for their meaning to be made intelligible. The nature and\nposition of the intestines, again, which is next to it [the liver], is\non the left side, for the purpose of always, like a sponge,[339] keeping\nit clean and bright, ready to reflect images; on which account,\ntherefore, when certain impurities are produced in the liver by bodily\ndisease, then the spleen, by its rarity, receives and purifies them all,\nfrom being of a hollow and bloodless texture;\u2014and hence, is it, that\nwhen filled with unclean matter, it grows to a large size and becomes\nwholly unsound. And again, when the body is purified, it subsides into\nits natural condition, as before.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 338:\n\n  A distinction is to be observed between \u03bc\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 and \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u1fc6\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9,\u2014the\n  former referring to the _interpreters_, the latter to the _utterers_\n  only of the divine oracles; but the words, as Plato observes, have\n  often been confounded.\n\nFootnote 339:\n\n  Gr. \u1f10\u03ba\u03bc\u03b1\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd,\u2014very wrongly rendered by some, _a mirror_,\u2014the error of\n  which was first shown by Barker in No. xlvi. of the Class. Journal, p.\n  201.\n\n-----\n\nXLVIII. As respects the soul, then, including both its mortal and divine\nportion, in what way it existed, and in what way and why it was\nconsigned to a separate habitation, the truth can be firmly established\nonly by the consent of the Deity:\u2014still, that we have stated what is\nnear the truth, we will now, quite open to investigation, venture the\nassertion; and here accordingly it is made.[340] And what next follows\nwe must treat in a similar manner; and this is no other, than how the\nrest of the body was produced. It is, therefore, in the most eminent\ndegree becoming that they should be composed as follows:\u2014Those who\nformed our race were aware, that we should be intemperate in eating and\ndrinking, and that through madness we should use far more than is either\nnecessary or moderate. For fear then of rapid destruction induced by\ndisease, and lest our mortal race should perish without fulfilling its\nend,\u2014to provide against this, the gods formed for the reception of the\nsuperfluous food a receptacle beneath, called _a belly_, and formed in\nit the convolutions of the intestines to prevent the food from passing\nso quickly as to require fresh and rapid supplies of nutriment for the\nbody, and so by insatiable gluttony making our whole race\nunphilosophical and unmusical, insubordinate to the most godlike part of\nour composition.[341]\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 340:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u03cc \u03b3\u03b5 \u03bc\u1f74\u03bd \u03b5\u1f30\u03ba\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u03b5\u1f30\u03c1\u1fc6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bd\u1fe6\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f14\u03c4\u03b9 \u03bc\u1fb6\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b9\n  \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03b9\u03bd\u03b4\u03c5\u03bd\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03ad\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c6\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c6\u03ac\u03c3\u03b8\u03c9.\n\nFootnote 341:\n\n  The intestines are not, as Plato seems to think, solely destined to\n  receive the excess of food. It is in the stomach that digestion\n  commences, and it ends in the intestines, from which the chyle\n  produced from the food is sent to the lungs to form blood. Aristotle\u2019s\n  ideas on this point are more correct. Hist. Anim. iii. 14.\n\n-----\n\nXLIX. The nature of the bones and flesh, and other parts of this kind,\nwas constituted as follows:\u2014The first principle of all these is the\ngeneration of the marrow; for the life-bonds of the soul that united it\nwith the body being herein woven together, constitute the foundation of\nthe mortal race. The marrow itself, however, has a different origin; for\namong the triangles, those of the first order, that are unbent and\nsmooth, were specially adapted by their accuracy for producing fire and\nwater, air and earth:[342]\u2014these the Deity, separating each apart from\nits own class, and mingling them together in fixed proportions, composed\nby these means an all-varying mixture of seeds for the whole mortal\nrace, and from these produced the marrow;\u2014and he afterwards implanted\nthis marrow, binding therein the various classes of souls; and as\nrespects the number of figures and what individual forms the marrow was\nto receive, he divided it, both as regards the quality and quantity of\nthe particles, at the original distribution,\u2014giving to that part of it\nwhich was to be the field for containing the divine seed a completely\nglobular shape; and this he called the _brain_, because in every animal\nthat has arrived at its perfect form, the vessel containing this\nsubstance is called the _head_.[343] But as respects the part destined\nto contain the remaining and mortal part of the soul, to this he gave\nboth round and oblong shapes, giving to the whole the name of _marrow_;\nand from these, as from anchors, casting the bonds of the entire soul,\nhe built around it our whole body, after first fixing round it a\ncomplete covering of bones.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 342:\n\n  Respecting these triangles, see ch. xxviii., and further on at ch.\n  lxii. They are in fact the primary atoms, of which the body is\n  composed, and are of different classes, according to the parts or\n  organs of which they are the components.\n\nFootnote 343:\n\n  There is a play here on the words \u03ba\u03b5\u03c6\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74 and \u1f10\u03b3\u03ba\u03ad\u03c6\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd, which cannot\n  be translated.\n\n-----\n\nL. The bones he composed as follows:\u2014Having sifted pure and smooth\nearth, he mingled and moistened it with marrow; and after this he placed\nit in fire, then plunged it in water, once more placed it in fire, and\nafter this dipped it in water: and thus by frequent transfers of each,\nhe made it insoluble by either. With this bone, then, he fashioned a\nsphere, as on a lathe, placing it round the brain, and only leaving a\nnarrow hole therein. At the same time also he formed of the same\nsubstance certain vertebr\u00e6 about the marrow of the neck and back,\nextending them like hinges, from the head downwards through the whole\ntrunk;\u2014and thus he preserved all its seed, by fortifying it round with a\nstony covering,\u2014forming in it joints also, for motion and flexion,\nemploying the power of difference in their formation, as being possessed\nof a certain middle quality.[344] Then, considering that the bone would\nhave a tendency to become dry and inflexible, and that when heated and\nagain cooled, it would become carious, and quickly corrupt the seed it\ncontained, he on this account formed the sinews and flesh; that the\nformer, by binding all the parts of the body, and being stretched and\nloosened about the vertebr\u00e6, might give the body a facility for either\nflexion or extension, as occasion required; while the flesh would serve\nas a covering from the heat and defence from the cold;\u2014as likewise for a\nprotection against falls, in the same manner as cushions do it, by\ngently and easily yielding to external bodies:[345] and he implanted in\nit also a hot moisture, which perspires in summer, and gives forth an\nexternal dew, to impart a coolness to the whole body,\u2014and again in\nwinter, gently keeps out by its own fire the cold brought from without.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 344:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03b8\u03b1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c7\u03c1\u03ce\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2, \u1f61\u03c2 \u03bc\u03ad\u03c3\u1fc3 \u1f10\u03bd\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u1fc3 \u03b4\u03c5\u03bd\u03ac\u03bc\u03b5\u03b9.\n  Comp. a similar passage in the succeeding chapter.\n\nFootnote 345:\n\n  Gr. \u1f14\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c0\u03c4\u03c9\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03bf\u1f37\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03b9\u03bb\u03b7\u03c4\u1f70 \u1f14\u03c3\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03c4\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1. A similar idea is\n  nearly similarly expressed by Longinus, xxxii. sect. 5. \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c3\u03ac\u03c1\u03ba\u03b1 \u03bf\u1f37\u03bf\u03bd\n  \u03c0\u03b9\u03bb\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03b8\u03ad\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9.\n\n-----\n\nLI.\u2014Our plastic Creator, reflecting on all this then, mingled and united\nwater, fire, and earth, gradually mixing therewith a ferment of acid and\nsalt;[346]\u2014and thus he composed a pulpy, soft flesh:\u2014And as for the\ntendons, he formed them of a mixture of bone and unfermented flesh, so\nas to have the properties of both, tinging them also with a yellow\ncolour. And on this account is it, that the tendons are firmer and more\nviscous than the flesh, but softer and moister than the bones. With\nthese God bound together the bones and marrow, afterwards enshrouding\nthe whole of them with the covering of the flesh. Such of the bones,\nthen, as were most ensouled, he covered with the smallest quantity of\nflesh,\u2014such as were least so, with the most and the densest flesh. And\nbesides this, except where reason evinced the need of the contrary, he\nplaced only a small quantity of flesh on the joints of the bones; lest\nthey should make the body uneasy by impeding its flexions and motion; or\nelse, from being many and frequent, and strongly pressed together, cause\nby their solidity a dulness of perception, imperfection of memory, and a\nsort of intellectual blindness. On this account then, the bones of the\ngroin, legs, loins, the shoulders and the arms from the elbow to the\nwrist, and such other parts of our bodies as have no joints, and such\ninward bones as have no thought, owing to the scarcity of soul in the\nmarrow, are fully provided with flesh;\u2014whereas those that have thought,\nhe covered with less, except the flesh were for perception, as in the\ncase of the tongue. In other respects, the case is as we have described.\nFor a being born and nurtured under necessity,[347] does not receive a\nhard bone united with plenty of flesh, and with it also a quickness of\nsensation. And yet the head would have been thus constructed, if the two\nhad exercised any will in thus coalescing; and the human race, having a\nfleshy, tendinous, and robust head, would enjoy healthy and unmolested a\nlife twice as long as the present, or even yet longer than that: but the\nartificers of our race, after thoroughly considering whether they had\nbetter make it more lasting and of worse condition, or shorter but of a\nmore excellent character, were agreed that a shorter but better life was\nwholly preferable to one longer, but inferior:\u2014and this was why they\ncovered the head with a thin bone, and not with flesh and fibre,\u2014because\nit had no joints. On all these accounts, then, the body was provided\nwith a head, which was the more perceptive and reflecting, in proportion\nas it was [physically] weaker than all the rest of man\u2019s structure. From\nthese causes, then, and in this manner,[348] the Deity placing tendons\nround the lower extremity of the head, glued them, as it were, round the\nneck, and bound with them the lofty cheek-bones placed under the\nforehead;\u2014and as for all the rest, he scattered them through all the\nmembers, connecting joint with joint.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 346:\n\n  Gr. \u1f10\u03be \u1f40\u03be\u03ad\u03bf\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f01\u03bb\u03bc\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03be\u03c5\u03bd\u03b8\u03b5\u1f76\u03c2 \u03b6\u03cd\u03bc\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03bc\u03af\u03be\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2, \u03c3\u03ac\u03c1\u03ba\u03b1\n  \u1f14\u03b3\u03c7\u03c5\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u1f74\u03bd \u03be\u03c5\u03bd\u03ad\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\u03c3\u03b5. Plato here alludes, however, not only\n  to the \u03c3\u03ac\u03c1\u03ba\u03b5\u03c2 or muscular fibre, but to the whole cellular tissue and\n  integument that form a general covering and defence for the entire\n  body. The word \u03bd\u03b5\u1fe6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd in the succeeding sentence refers not to the\n  pulpy, delicate fibres now called by that name, but to the tendons and\n  ligaments that hold an intermediate position between flesh and bone.\n\nFootnote 347:\n\n  Plato here alludes to the soul of man, which is said to be generated\n  and composed by necessity in consequence of its union with the body.\n\nFootnote 348:\n\n  Gr. \u1f10\u03c0\u2019 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c7\u03ac\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03ba\u03b5\u03c6\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74\u03bd \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03cd\u03ba\u03bb\u1ff3 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c4\u03c1\u03ac\u03c7\u03b7\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd\n  \u1f10\u03ba\u03cc\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03c3\u03b5\u03bd \u1f41\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03cc\u03c4\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9, &c.\n\n-----\n\nLII.\u2014We were next provided by those who formed us with the organs of the\nmouth, teeth, tongue, and lips,\u2014arranged as they now are for purposes\nboth necessary and the best; giving ingress for necessaries, and egress\nto what is best,\u2014everything, indeed, that enters to feed the body being\nnecessary\u2014while the stream of words flowing outwards; if guided by\nwisdom, is by far the fairest and best of all streams whatever.\n\nLIII.\u2014Again, it was not possible that the head could bear a mere\ncovering of thin bone, owing to the extremes of the different seasons;\nnor again, could it be allowed to become clouded, blind, and\nunperceptive, through the overcrowding of flesh. Hence a fleshy\nmembrane, not dried, was left separate from the rest,\u2014that now termed\ncuticle (or scalp). This, then, being brought into union with itself by\nthe moisture about the brain, grows around and circularly invests the\nhead. And it is the moisture flowing under the sutures that moistens\nthis membrane, and causes it to close at the crown, connecting it as in\na knot. But as for the ever-varying classes of sutures, these are\ngenerated through the power of the periodic changes caused by nutriment\nin the flesh;[349] the variety becoming greater, when they struggle with\neach other more violently\u2014less so, when less violently. All this\nmembrane the Divine Being pierced all round with fire:\u2014and hence, as it\nwas wounded, and the moisture externally flowed through it, all that was\npure of the moisture and heat was carried off, while that which was\nmixed, and of a nature allied to that of the membrane itself, being\nraised by the motion, was stretched outwards to a great size, having\nalso a tenuity equal to the amount of puncture,\u2014whereas, on the other\nhand, when continually thrust back through the slowness of its motion by\nthe spirit surrounding it externally, it again revolves under the\nmembrane and there becomes firmly rooted. And owing to these affections\nis it, that the hair springs up on the membrane of the head, being\nnaturally allied, and serving as a rein to this membrane, but at the\nsame time becoming harder and denser through the pressure of the cold,\nwhich hardens each hair, as it proceeds beyond the skin.[350] Thus,\nthen, by the means above mentioned, did our Creator plant the head with\nhairs, reflecting at the same time that instead of flesh a light\ncovering was needed to guard the brain, and give it shade and protection\nfrom the extremes of heat and cold without hindering its acuteness of\nsensation.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 349:\n\n  So we have ventured (taking it as a case of \u1f15\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03b4\u03c5\u03bf\u1fd6\u03bd) to render\n  the words \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03cc\u03b4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b4\u03cd\u03bd\u03b1\u03bc\u03b9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u1fc6\u03c2. These _periods_ are\n  certain changes caused from time to time in the flesh by the motion of\n  its particles, both solid and fluid,\u2014and this owing to the constant\n  supplies of food. A notion very much resembling it has been propounded\n  by modern physiologists.\n\nFootnote 350:\n\n  The meaning of the sentence seems to be, that the whole _cutis_ or\n  scalp of the head was perforated by fire, and through the holes thus\n  formed, there issued certain delicate streams of fluid which were\n  hardened into fibre, as they rose above the skin and encountered the\n  pressure of the external atmosphere.\n\n-----\n\nLIV.\u2014But the mass of tendon, skin, and bone that is interwoven about the\nfingers, being a mixture of three substances, becomes, when dried, one\ncommon hard membrane composed of all in common\u2014fashioned indeed with\nthese as instrumental causes, but effectively produced by that\nreflection which ever has an eye to the future:\u2014for those who formed us\nwell knew, that women and other animals would some day be generated from\nmen, and that nails would be of the greatest use in several respects to\nmany of the animals:\u2014and this was the reason, why they stamped in men\nthe pattern of the nails at their first birth. It was from these causes,\nthen, and with these intentions, that they implanted skin, hairs, and\nnails at the extremities of the limbs.\n\nLV.\u2014As the parts and members of the mortal animal however were all\nallied in nature, and their life necessarily resulted from fire and\nspirit, the decay and exhaustion of which would cause it to perish\nquickly, the gods provided for it the following remedy:\u2014Intermingling a\nnature resembling that of man with other forms and senses, they planted\nas it were other animals,\u2014such as kindly-disposed trees, plants, and\nseeds, which are made useful to us by the nurture and training of\nagriculture; though before there were only those of a rustic kind, which\nare more ancient than those that are cultivated.[351] Everything indeed\nthat partakes of life we may justly and most correctly call an\nanimal;\u2014but that in particular, of which we are now speaking, is\npossessed of the third species of soul,[352] which we place between the\nmidriff and the navel: and which has no share either in opinion, reason,\nor intellect, though possessing a sense of pleasure and pain, as well as\ndesire. It effects all things indeed by passion (or appetite); and it\ndoes this by the evolution of its internal power and the employment of\nits own motion to the exclusion of every other, as it has not been\nformed with a nature capable of reasoning on its own concerns.[353] It\nthus lives in no way different from an animal, except in being firmly\nrooted in a fixed position and deprived of original motion.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 351:\n\n  The question, whether plants are a distinct kind of animals, which was\n  held by all the Platonic philosophers, is touched on by Plutarch, De\n  Plac. Philos. v. 26, sect. 10, and by Cicero, Tusc. i. 26, where he\n  remarks:\u2014\u201c_tam natur\u00e6 putarem hominis vitam sustentari, quam vitis aut\n  arboris:\u2014h\u00e6c enim etiam dicimus vivere_.\u201d\n\nFootnote 352:\n\n  _I. e._ \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd.\n\nFootnote 353:\n\n  What Plato here means, seems simply to be, that it is by turning in\n  and about themselves; that is, by growth, without locomotion, that\n  plants develop the perfection and beauty of their nature, without\n  being in any way obliged for their origin or nature to the objects by\n  which they are surrounded. The phrase \u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c6\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1ff7 \u1f10\u03bd \u1f11\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76\n  \u1f11\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03cc is somewhat difficult, but is explained by a sentence in the\n  The\u00e6tetus (p. 181, c.), where \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03af\u03c9\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 is also used to express the\n  contrary notion.\n\n-----\n\nLVI.\u2014Now after the directing artificers of our structure had implanted\nall these organs for giving nutriment to our inferior nature, they\ndirected various channels through our body, so as to water it like a\ngarden, by the constant accession of flowing moisture.[354] And first,\nthey cut two hidden channels beneath the juncture of the skin and flesh,\nviz. two veins going down the back to correspond with the double figure\nof the body, both on the right and left sides. These they placed close\nto the back-bone, so as to receive between them the marrow, the growth\nof which might be thus promoted, and that the flood supplied thence to\nother parts, might give an equable irrigation;\u2014and then, dividing the\nveins about the head, and mutually interweaving them, they distributed\nthem in opposite directions,\u2014inclining some from the right to the left\nof the body, and some from the left to the right, that there might be a\nchain formed by the skin to unite the head to the body, there being no\ninterlacing of tendons round the head,\u2014and besides this, that the\naffection of sensation might from each of these parts pass round and\nthrough the body. It was in some such way as this, then, that they\nprepared the channel, of which we speak; and its truth we shall easily\nperceive by assenting to our previous position,\u2014that all things composed\nof greater parts may envelop such as are less, while those consisting of\nless cannot envelop the greater. But fire is, of all classes of things,\ncomposed of the smallest parts; and hence it penetrates through water,\nearth, and air, and their several compounds,\u2014and this to such an extent\nthat nothing can retain it. The same remark is true of our belly, which\nis able to retain any food that has been introduced, but cannot hold\nspirit and fire, because they consist of smaller particles than those\ncomposing the belly.\n\nLVII.\u2014These channels therefore the Deity employed for the purpose of\ndistributing moisture from the belly into the veins, by weaving with\nfire and air a network resembling basket-nets (or weeds), with two\ncurved passages of entrance,\u2014one of which he again twisted and divided\ninto two branches, winding the continuations of these curved passages\nlike coils of rope in every direction as far as the ends of the net. Now\nall the inner parts of the network he composed of fire, but the great\nflexures and the receptacle itself of air;\u2014and lastly, he took and\nplaced them in the new-formed animal, as follows. One of the curved\npassages he placed in the mouth; but, as this part has two flexures, he\ncaused one (_i. e._ the trachea) to pass along the arteries into the\nlungs, the other (_i. e._ the \u0153sophagus) by the side of the arteries\ninto the belly. The other curved part he divided into two separate\npassages, making them pass in common to the channels of the nose, so\nthat when the one does not reach the mouth, all the streams of the other\nmight still be filled from this. But as for the remaining part of the\nhollow network, he made it extend all over the concavity of the body,\nand the whole of it flow gently together into the curved passages, as\nbeing of an airy texture, and at another time to flow through them\nbackwards. But the net, which is of a thin structure, he so disposed as\nto make it penetrate through and again emerge.[355] Besides this, he\nordered that the interior rays of fire should follow in constant\nsuccession, the air at the same time passing into each, and that this\nshould never cease to be the case, as long as the mortal animal\u2019s life\ncontinued. And as respects the name of this kind of motion, we call it\nexpiration and inspiration. Now this whole action and affection that it\nproduces in our nature, is caused by certain bodily moistenings and\ncoolings, alike conducive to our nutriment and life:\u2014for as the breath\npasses in and out, an interior fire attends it in its course; and when\nit is diffused through the belly and meets with solid and liquid food,\nit reduces them both to a state of moisture, and by dividing them into\nvery small parts, carries them along in its course; pouring them, as\nfrom a fountain, into the veins, and so cutting channels through the\nbody as through an aqueduct.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 354:\n\n  This passage is well illustrated by Longinus, xxxii. sect. 5, where he\n  is illustrating the power of metaphor:\u2014\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f15\u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03b1, \u03c6\u03b7\u03c3\u03af,\n  \u03b4\u03b9\u03c9\u03c7\u03ad\u03c4\u03b5\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c3\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1, \u03c4\u03ad\u03bc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u1f65\u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u1f10\u03bd \u03ba\u03ae\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f40\u03c7\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c2, \u1f61\u03c2 \u1f14\u03ba \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2\n  \u03bd\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f00\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f44\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03bb\u1ff6\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c3\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c6\u03bb\u03b5\u03b2\u1ff6\u03bd \u1fe5\u03ad\u03bf\u03b9\n  \u03bd\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1. A very similar passage occurs in the Tim\u00e6us Locrus, p. 101,\n  c., p. 437 of vol. vii. in Stallbaum\u2019s edition of Plato\u2019s works.\n\nFootnote 355:\n\n  The whole of this description refers to the \u0153sophagus, which enters\n  the upper part of the stomach, and runs side by side with the trachea,\n  which divides to form the entrance to the two great cells of the\n  lungs. This division is no doubt that of one of the \u1f10\u03b3\u03ba\u03cd\u03c1\u03c4\u03b9\u03b1, which,\n  it is said, God \u03b4\u03b9\u03ad\u03c0\u03bb\u03b5\u03be\u03b5 \u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd, and then subdivided it into the\n  numerous bronchial tubes that ramify in all directions over the\n  surface of the lungs, _i. e._ \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f14\u03c3\u03c7\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2.\n  It may also be added that in the mouth are two passages leading up to\n  the channels of the nose. The meaning is exceedingly obscure; but the\n  reader is referred to Stallbaum and Martin for several long\n  explanatory notes on this curious account.\n\n-----\n\nLVIII.\u2014But again let us consider the affection of breathing, and\ninvestigate the causes which gave it its present nature. We should\nreason on it, therefore, as follows:\u2014As there is no such thing in nature\nas a vacuum into which a moving body can enter, and as breath passes\nfrom us outwards, every one is aware that it cannot escape into void\nspace, but must thrust out whatever is nearest; again, that the body\nmust always repel that ever nearest, and that from a necessity of this\nkind, everything impelled into the place vacated by the emitted breath\nmust, after entering and filling up this space, attend on the breath as\nit travels. And all this must take place like the revolution of a wheel,\nthrough the impossibility of a vacuum. Hence, the breast and lungs,\nafter dismissing the breath outwards, are again inflated by the entrance\nof the air surrounding the body into and around the cavities of the\nflesh. And when the air is again sent outwards and flows round the body,\nit drives the breath inwards through the mouth and nostrils.\n\nLIX.\u2014And as regards the cause from which they derive their origin, we\nmay propose the following. In every animal in the universe those of its\ninternal parts are the hottest which surround the veins and blood, just\nas if they contained a fountain of fire;[356] and this heat we compared\nto a bow-net, extending through the middle of the body, and woven wholly\nof fire; all outside of it being composed of air. Yet heat, it must be\nagreed, naturally proceeds outward into a region with which it is\nallied. But as there are two passages for the heat,\u2014one through the body\noutwards, the other again through the mouth and nostrils; hence, when\nthe breath is impelled towards the latter, it in turn repels that\nlatter. But that which is drawn into the fire becomes heated by so\nfalling, while what is exhaled becomes cooled;\u2014and so, owing to the\nchange of temperature, they pass again into their former condition,\nwhether hot or cold, through the mutual repulsion of each other; and as\nthe same influence is constant and mutually operating, its circular\nagitation gives birth to the expiration and inspiration of the breath.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 356:\n\n  Gr. \u03c0\u1fb6\u03bd \u03b6\u1ff6\u03bf\u03bd \u03b1\u1f51\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4\u1f04\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b1\u1f37\u03bc\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u03c6\u03bb\u03b5\u03b2\u03ac\u03c2 \u03b8\u03b5\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03c4\u03ac\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9,\n  \u03bf\u1f37\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd \u03b1\u1f51\u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c0\u03b7\u03b3\u03ae\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1 \u1f10\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd \u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2. The common reading has \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03c2,\n  instead of \u03c4\u1f04\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, and \u03b8\u03b5\u03c1\u03bc\u03cc\u03c4\u03b7\u03c4\u03b1 for \u03b8\u03b5\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03c4\u03ac\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2.\n\n-----\n\nLX.\u2014To the same causes may we ascribe the impressions produced by\nmedical cupping-glasses, by swallowing drink, by the violent hurlings of\nbodies, whether upwards or on the ground, together with such sounds as\nappear swift or slow, sharp or flat,\u2014and which at one time are\ndiscordant, owing to the dissimilitude of the motion which they cause\nwithin us, and at another harmonize, through the similitude of that\nmotion. For the slower sounds catch up those antecedent and swifter,\nbecause the latter slacken their pace to one like their own; and by so\nfollowing the swifter, they still urge them onward,\u2014though without\ndisturbing the motion by introducing another, but making their slower\nrate to approach gradually to that of the swifter;\u2014and this mixed\nimpression from the sharp and flat (_i. e._ the quick and slow) forms a\nsingle note; whence results the pleasure felt even by the unwise, but\nreally entertained by the wise, which is owing to the imitation of\nDivine harmony that exists in mortal motions.[357] And, indeed, with\nrespect to all the motions of water, the fallings of thunder, and the\nwonderful circumstances observed in the attraction of amber, and the\nHerculean stone,[358]\u2014in all these, no real attraction takes place at\nall; but as a vacuum can nowhere be found, the particles are mutually\nimpelled by each other; hence, as they all individually, both in a\nseparate and mingled state, have an attraction for their own proper\nseats, it is by the mutual intermingling of these affections, that such\nadmirable effects present themselves to the view of the accurate\ninvestigator.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 357:\n\n  Comp. ch. xviii. and xx. with Republ. vii. ch. 12, where the harmony\n  of the soul is treated more at length. See also Martin, ii. p. 339.\n\nFootnote 358:\n\n  This is a very memorable passage, and clearly shows that Plato was not\n  only well acquainted with the doctrine of attraction and repulsion,\n  but was of opinion also that the law of repulsion depended on the\n  congregation of similar elements throughout all nature. The whole\n  matter, however, is largely treated by Plutarch in his sixth Platonic\n  Dissertation, vol. ii. p. 1004, ed. Par.\n\n-----\n\nLXI.\u2014It is specially owing to this cause, that respiration (whence our\ndiscourse originated) is generated; and after the manner that we have\nbefore shown;\u2014namely, that as fire divides the food and rises internally\nto attend on the breath, the veins from the belly become filled by this\njoint elevation, in consequence of drawing thence the divided portions\nof the food; so that by these means, through every animal body the\nstreams of nutriment are abundantly diffused. But the parts which are\nrecently cut apart and separated from their kindred natures,\u2014some of\nthem fruits and others grasses, and produced by the Deity for bodily\nfood, acquire varieties of colour through their mutual admixture; though\nfor the most part the red predominates,[359] as its nature consists of\nfire combined with a lump of moist mud. Hence also the colour of that\nwhich flows about the body is just what it seems, and is also called\n_blood_, being the nurturing principle of the flesh and whole body; and\nso by everywhere diffusing its moisture, it copiously replenishes all\nthe exhausted parts.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 359:\n\n  Respecting the origin of the colour _red_, comp. ch. xlii. Galen thus\n  speaks of this opinion about the blood (vii. ch. 159)\u2014\u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f10\u03c1\u03c5\u03b8\u03c1\u1f70\u03bd\n  \u03c7\u03c1\u03cc\u03b1\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03af \u03c6\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9 \u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03b1\u1f35\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f10\u03be\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03be\u03b9\u03bd.\n\n-----\n\nAs for the manner of impletion and depletion, it is produced in the same\nway as the change of everything in the universe; viz. from the\ncircumstance of all kindred natures having a common attraction:\u2014for the\nnatures with which we are clothed externally, are perpetually melting\nand being distributed, each form of matter departing to that with which\nit is allied. But the particles of blood which are contained in, and\ndistributed throughout our bodies, as is the case with every animal\ncreated under heaven, necessarily imitate the motion of the universe.\nEach, therefore, of the divided parts within us, being borne along to\nits kindred nature, again replenishes what is void. But when the\ndecretions exceed the accessions, the whole animal falls into decay; but\nin the contrary case, it acquires growth.\n\nLXII.\u2014The new composition therefore of every animal, as it has new\ntriangles, [_i. e._ elementary principles,] formed as it were from fresh\ntimbers, causes them to lock closely within each other,\u2014the whole of its\nbulk being of a delicate structure, formed of fresh marrow and fed on\nmilk. Those triangles, therefore, that compose the bodily aliment,\nhaving entered it from without and been received into the animal, from\nbeing older and weaker than the simple original triangles therewith\nagreeing, are overpowered and destroyed by the new triangles; and the\nanimal grows to a large size, because it is supplied from a multitude of\nsimilar parts. But when the root of these triangles is relaxed by\nfatigue and dulness, brought on by the repulsion of many particles\nduring a long period of time, then the food received can no longer cut\ninto its own similitude; but they are themselves easily separated by the\nbodies that enter from without. Overcome by this, the whole animal at\nlength decays; and this state is what we call old age:\u2014and at last, when\nthe jointed chains of the triangles about the marrow can no longer hold,\nbut through long employment get unfastened and set free the bonds of the\nsoul,\u2014the soul thus loosened naturally flies off with pleasure and\ndelight; for everything contrary to nature is painful, while the natural\nis pleasant. Hence the death caused by wounds and disease is painful and\nviolent,\u2014while that which follows old age, as the end agreeable to\nnature, is of all deaths the least irksome, and attended rather by\npleasure than pain.[360]\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 360:\n\n  It is this kind of death of which he speaks in the Georgics (p. 524)\u2014\u1f41\n  \u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03c5\u03b3\u03c7\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f62\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf \u1f22 \u03b4\u03c5\u03bf\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u03ac\u03bb\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03a8\u03c5\u03c7\u1fc6\u03c2\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c3\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c0\u2019 \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u03ae\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd. Comp. also Plutarch, De Plac. Phil. v.\n  sect. 24, where he records also the opinions of many others on the\n  same topic.\n\n-----\n\nLXIII.\u2014As to the origin of diseases, that must be obvious to every\none:\u2014for as there are four component elements of the body, viz. earth,\nfire, water, and air, the unnatural over-abundance or defect of these,\nand their removal from their own to a different position,\u2014those of fire,\nwe mean, and the other classes, for there are more than one,\u2014these are\nthe causes why they do not each receive what suits their peculiar\nnature, and they necessarily produce disturbances and diseases: for as\nthese are severally generated and transferred in a way contrary to\nnature, such things as were formerly heated become cold, what were once\ndry moist, the light heavy\u2014all things, in short, undergo all possible\nmutations. For we assert that it is only when the same thing approaches\nto and departs from the same in the same manner and according to\nanalogy, that it will allow what is the same with itself to abide in\nhealth and safety: and should any of them be in discordance, whether\napproaching or departing, it will cause all varieties of alienations, as\nwell as unnumbered diseases and corruptions. But having now found the\nsecond set of conditions suitable to nature, the second mode of\nconsidering diseases also is now open to any one desirous of so\ndoing.[361] For as the marrow, bone, flesh, and sinew are composed of\nthose [elements,] as likewise the blood in another way, though from a\nsimilar origin, so also most other diseases owe their severity to the\ncauses we have mentioned; though the greatest of them are to be traced\nto the following cause:\u2014When the generation of these various [bodily\nsubstances] takes place inversely, then they become subject to\ncorruption:\u2014for the flesh and sinews are naturally formed from\nblood,\u2014the sinews indeed from fibres, through the connexion between\nthese, but the flesh from its union with that which when in a separate\nstate becomes solid:\u2014while the glutinous and fatty substance again which\nis formed from sinews and flesh, at once unites[362] the flesh to the\nbone, and itself feeds the growth of the bone itself, with which the\nmarrow is surrounded. And again, that which filters through the solid\npart of the bones, being the purest kind of the triangles, as well as\nmost smooth and unctuous, moistens the marrow by falling drop by drop\nfrom the bones.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 361:\n\n  He now proceeds to consider the second cause of diseases\u2014from the\n  deprivation of the compound substances of the body,\u2014blood, bile,\n  flesh, marrow, &c., which can easily be comprehended, says he, by\n  those who have followed him in his speculations on the first.\n\nFootnote 362:\n\n  The old reading was \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac: but the best MSS. have \u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1fb7.\n\n-----\n\nLXIV.\u2014When these several things are the case, health mostly ensues; but\nwhen the contrary happens\u2014disease. For when the flesh becomes liquefied\nand sends back what it loses into the veins, then the blood mingled with\nspirit flows abundantly, and of all kinds, through the veins, with\ndifferent degrees of colours and bitterness;[363] and yet further, from\nits acid and salt qualities, it generates all kinds of bile, lymph, and\nphlegm;\u2014for as they are all generated and corrupted in an opposite way,\nthey first of all destroy the blood itself;[364] and the fluids that can\nno longer afford nutriment to the body, are borne along the veins\nwithout any natural order of circulation; at variance, indeed, with each\nother, because they derive no mutual advantages from the properties of\neach, but [positively] hostile to the constitution of the body, and its\nmaintenance in health,\u2014in short, destroying it and bringing it to\nputrefaction.\n\nSuch, therefore, of the flesh as becomes liquefied by its great age,\nbeing indisposed to putrefy, grows black from long burning; and from\nhaving been entirely macerated it becomes bitter, and falls into\ndiscontent with the other parts of the body not yet infected with\ncorruption. And then, indeed, instead of bitterness, the black part\nassumes an acidity, if the bitter becomes more attenuated: but when the\nbitterness is tinged with blood, it becomes still redder; and when mixed\nwith black, it assumes the nature of bile:\u2014and yet further, to the\nbitterness is added a yellow colour through the melting of new flesh on\nthe fire surrounding the flame. And this common name for all these some\nof the physicians assigned them,\u2014or at any rate some who were able to\nconsider many things dissimilar, and to detect in a single class a great\nnumber of particulars all deserving a special name. But all else that\nmay be called kinds of bile, receive, according to colour, a name\npeculiar to each. As for _lymph_ (\u1f34\u03c7\u03c9\u03c1), the whey of the blood, it is\ngentle and mild: while the sediment of black, acid bile, is fierce and\nwild;\u2014and when mingled by heat with anything of a saline quality, it is\ncalled _acid phlegm_. Again, the moisture running from new and tender\nflesh mingled with the air, which is afterwards inflated and enclosed by\nmoisture, produces bubbles, which separately are invisible, owing to\ntheir small size, but when collected in a large bulk become visible, and\nacquire a white colour from the generation of froth. And all this\nliquefaction of delicate flesh, when woven together with spirit, we term\n_white phlegm_,\u2014the sediment of recent phlegm, _tears_ and _sweat_;\ntogether with all such secretions that the body sends forth for its\npurification.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 363:\n\n  Gr. \u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u03cc\u03c4\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9. The old editions read \u03c0\u03c5\u03ba\u03bd\u03cc\u03c4\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd.\n\nFootnote 364:\n\n  What he here means is\u2014that the health of the body mainly depends on\n  the state of the blood; and on this principle chiefly he explains the\n  causes of diseases, which arise from the corruption of the humours\n  caused by the disturbed state of the body, bringing also a taint on\n  the blood;\u2014and hence it must follow that the general health becomes\n  impaired, because the blood runs through the veins, diffusing through\n  the body its vital nutriment.\n\n-----\n\nLXV.\u2014All these indeed become the instruments of disease, when the blood\nis not supplied naturally from liquid and solid food, but gains bulk\nfrom contraries in violation of the laws of nature. When any part of the\nflesh therefore becomes separated by disease,[365] letting its first\nprinciples remain, half the trouble is removed; for it admits of an easy\nrecovery. But when that which binds the flesh to the bones becomes\ndiseased, and the blood flowing from the fibres and sinews no longer\nserves as food to the bones and a bond to the flesh, but, instead of\nbeing fat, smooth and glutinous, becomes rough and salt from being\nparched by bad diet; then, in consequence of suffering all this and\nbeing separated from the bones, it is itself crumbled down[366] under\nthe flesh and sinews;\u2014while the flesh falling at the same time from its\nroots, leaves the sinews bare and saturated with salt; and thus,\nentering once more the circulation of the blood, it increases the number\nof the aforesaid maladies. And if these bodily ailments be severe, still\nmore afflicting and troublesome are those that precede them; when the\nbone, owing to the density of the flesh, does not allow sufficient\nrespiration, but becoming heated through rottenness, falls into decay,\nand will receive no nutriment, but on the contrary gradually crumble\naway,\u2014bone falling on flesh, and flesh again on blood, diseases being by\nthese means produced that are of a severer character than the former. By\nfar the worst of all maladies however is,\u2014when the marrow becomes\ndiseased through some defect or excess;\u2014because it is then productive of\nthe most vehement and fatal diseases, the whole nature of the body being\nnecessarily reversed and destroyed.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 365:\n\n  \u1f51\u03c0\u1f78 \u03bd\u03cc\u03c3\u03c9\u03bd, omitted in the old editions, has been restored on the\n  authority of several of the best MSS.\n\nFootnote 366:\n\n  Gr. \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c8\u03ae\u03c7\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9. The old editions have \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c8\u03cd\u03c7\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9. The same\n  observation applies to \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c8\u03b7\u03c7\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd, a few lines lower down.\n\n-----\n\nLXVI.\u2014Again, as to the third species of diseases, we ought to consider\nthem as divided into three classes,\u2014one produced by spirit, a second by\nphlegm, and a third by bile. For when the lungs, the great guardian of\nthe breath, through being obstructed by defluxions,[367] will not allow\na free passage to the breath, which thus has no egress one way, and in\nanother enters in larger supplies than it ought, those parts which are\nnot cooled by it become putrid, while those that receive too much of it,\npassing violently through the veins, distort them and become liquefied,\nbeing shut out with the diaphragm in the middle of the body: and thus\nten thousand severe ailments hence arise, together with an abundance of\nsweat. And frequently, when the flesh becomes separated within the body,\nbreath is produced, which not finding escape externally, causes the same\ntorments as the breath entering from without. The greatest pains that it\nproduces, however, are, when it surrounds and swells out the sinews and\nneighbouring veins, stretching and distorting the tendons and sinews\ncontinued from the back. Now these diseases, from their disposition to\nextension, are termed tensions and contortions from behind,[368]\u2014the\ncure of which it is difficult to find; because fevers supervene and\ngenerally bring them to a close. But the white phlegm, when it becomes\ntroublesome through the formation of air-bubbles, being shut out by\nhaving breathing-vents outside the body, is of a milder kind, and\nvariegates the body with white spots, generating other diseases also of\na similar character. But when mingled with black bile, and dispersed\nabout the most divine circulations of the head, it acts as a disturbing\nagent, though with less violence during sleep; but if it come to those\nwho are awake, it cannot be expelled without difficulty; and as this is\na disease of a sacred nature (or organ, _i. e._ the head), it is most\njustly called sacred.[369] An acid and salt phlegm again is the source\nof all those diseases which are produced by a defluxion of humours: and\nbecause the places into which this phlegm flows are of infinite variety,\nit produces all kinds of diseases. But whatever parts of the body are\nsaid to be inflamed, all become so from being burnt and inflamed by\nbile.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 367:\n\n  Gr. \u1f51\u03c0\u1f78 \u1fe5\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c6\u03c1\u03ac\u03c7\u03b8\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, obstructed by discharges of phlegm.\n\nFootnote 368:\n\n  Gr. \u1f03 \u03b4\u1f74 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03c0\u2019 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03be\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03bd\u03bf\u03c3\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c4\u03ad\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03af\n  \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f41\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03b8\u03cc\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03b5\u1fe4\u1fe5\u03ae\u03b8\u03b7\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd. Galen describes the \u03c4\u03ad\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 as a\n  distension or convulsion extending equally over a considerable part of\n  the body;\u2014but it appears to be a generic term also, of which\n  \u1f41\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03b8\u03cc\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 and \u1f10\u03bc\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03b8\u03cc\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 are species,\u2014one extending over the\n  hinder, and the other over the forepart of the body. Celsus explains\n  it as _nervorum rigor_;\u2014and it seems, in fact, to be an involuntary\n  retraction, in a contrary direction to the muscles.\n\nFootnote 369:\n\n  _Epilepsy_, however, was what the ancients usually termed the _sacred\n  disease_, because it was supposed to be sent by the anger of the gods,\n  and could only be assuaged or removed by incantations and other sacred\n  ceremonies.\n\n-----\n\nLXVII. Now this bile, whenever it makes an expiration, boils and sends\nup all kinds of tumours, and when inwardly restrained, generates many\ninflammatory diseases,\u2014but the greatest of all, when mingled with pure\nblood it disturbs the order of the fibres, which are scattered in the\nblood for this purpose,\u2014namely, of giving it certain measures of tenuity\nand density, and that it may neither through heat (as being moist) flow\nfrom the thin body, nor from its density become unadapted to motion, and\nso experience difficulty in flowing back in the veins. The just\ntemperament, then, of these things is under the natural guardianship of\nthe fibres; because if any one collects them together in the blood when\ndead and in a state of coldness, all the remaining blood becomes\ndiffused; and when let out quickly, it coagulates in consequence of the\ncold surrounding it. The fibres possessing this influence over the\nblood, the bile, which is of the nature of ancient blood, and again\nchanged into it from flesh by liquefaction, first gradually falls in a\nwarm, moist state, and becomes coagulated through the power of the\nfibres; though when coagulated and violently extinguished, it causes a\ntempest and tremor within. When it flows with still greater force, it\novercomes the fibres by its own proper heat, and by its ebullition\ndrives them into disorder;[370] and if it retains its prevalence to the\nend, it penetrates into the marrow, and burning the bonds of the soul,\nas if they were the cables of a ship, dissolves their union, and sets it\nwholly free; but, on the other hand, when it flows less abundantly, and\nthe body on becoming liquefied opposes its passage, it then, on finding\nitself overcome, either escapes through the whole body, or being driven\nthrough the veins into the upper or lower belly, escapes from the body\nlike a fugitive from a seditious city, and introduces defluxions,\ndysenteries, or gripings of the intestines, and all diseases of a\nsimilar kind. When the body, therefore, is unusually diseased by an\nexcess of fire, it then labours under _continued_ burnings and fever;\nbut when through excess of air, under _quotidian_ fevers: under\n_tertian_ through water, because water is less active than fire and air;\nand under _quartan_, through excess of earth;\u2014for earth, being of all of\nthem the least active, becomes purified in quadruple periods of time,\nand hence introduces quartan fevers, which are with difficulty\ndispelled.[371]\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 370:\n\n  Gr. \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c4\u03b1\u03be\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u03b6\u03ad\u03c3\u03b1\u03c3\u03b1 \u03b4\u03b9\u03ad\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03b5. The old editions have \u03b4\u03b9\u03ad\u03c3\u03c9\u03c3\u03b5, which\n  makes against the context.\n\nFootnote 371:\n\n  Martin has taken great and successful pains to point out the\n  surprising sagacity of Plato\u2019s conjectures on the causes of disease.\n  His notes on the subject are well worthy of on attentive perusal.\n\n-----\n\nLXVIII. In the above manner are the diseases of the body produced; but\nthe diseases of the soul, resulting from the habit of the body, are as\nfollows. We must admit that the disease of the soul is folly, or a\nprivation of intellect; and that there are two kinds of folly; the one\nmadness, the other ignorance. Whatever passion, therefore, a person\nexperiences that induces either of them, must be called a disease.\nExcessive pleasures and pains, however, are what we should deem the\ngreatest diseases of the soul:\u2014for when a man is over-elevated with joy\nor unduly depressed with grief, and so hastens immoderately either to\nretain the one or fly from the other, he can neither perceive nor hear\nanything properly, but is agitated with fury, and very little capable of\nexercising the reasoning power. But he who possesses a great quantity of\nfluid-seed about the marrow, and is by nature like a tree over-laden\nwith fruit, such a one having many throes,[372] and also many pleasures\nin his desires and their attendant offspring,\u2014being maddened too during\nmost of his life by the greatest pleasures and pains, having a soul also\nrendered morbid and unwise by the body, is wrongly deemed to be\u2014not\ndiseased, but voluntarily bad.[373] In truth, however, sexual\nintemperance generally becomes a disease of the soul, through a\nparticular state of fluidity and moisture caused by the tenuity of the\nbones. And indeed it may almost be asserted, that all intemperance in\nany kind of pleasure, and all disgraceful conduct, is not properly\nblamed as the consequence of voluntary guilt. For _no one is voluntary\nbad_: but he who is depraved becomes so through a certain bad habit of\nbody and an ill-governed education; and to every one these are inimical,\nas they result in a certain evil. And again, in the matter of pain, the\nsoul suffers much depravity through the body. For where acid and salt\nphlegm, and likewise bitter and bilious humours, wandering through the\nbody, get no external vent, but revolve inwardly, and mingle their\nexhalations with the circulation of the soul; they in this case produce\nwithin it an infinite variety of diseases, greater or less in\ndegree,\u2014more or less in numbers. They are introduced, indeed, to three\nseats of the soul; and according to the diversity of the place, each\nbegets every variety of difficulty and sorrow, rashness and timidity,\nand still further of oblivion and indocility. Besides this also, the\nvicious manners of cities, and discourses both private and public, often\ncontribute to increase this malady; nor are any branches of learning\ntaught in early life which tend to serve as remedies for such mighty\nills;\u2014and thus all the vicious are vicious through two most involuntary\ncauses, which we should always ascribe rather to the planters than the\nthings planted, and to the trainers rather than those trained; but still\nit should be our anxious endeavour, as far as we can, by education,\nstudies, and learning, to fly from vice, and acquire its\ncontrary\u2014virtue. These particulars, however, require another mode of\nargument.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 372:\n\n  The old editions read \u1f40\u03b4\u03cd\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2, not \u1f60\u03b4\u1fd6\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2.\n\nFootnote 373:\n\n  This is quite according to Plato\u2019s well-known doctrine\u2014_\u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u03b5\u1f76\u03c2 \u1f11\u03ba\u1f7c\u03bd\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2_, as he explains it below, and in the Republ. ix, p. 589, c.;\n  Protagoras, p. 345, e.\n\n-----\n\nLXIX. Again, as respects the contrary of these, it is quite fit and\nproper to explain concerning the cultivation both of the body and the\nintellect, by what means each is to be healthfully preserved. For it is\nmore just to take account of good things, rather than of the evil. Now\nevery thing good is beautiful; and the beautiful is not without\nmeasure:\u2014an animal therefore destined to be such, must possess symmetry.\nOf symmetries, however, we perceive and understand those which are\nsmall; but as for the greatest and most important, of these we are quite\nignorant. For indeed, no symmetry or want of measure is of more\nimportance with respect to health and disease, virtue and vice, than\nthat of the soul towards the body:\u2014and yet into these we make no\ninquiry, nor do we reflect that when a weaker and inferior form is the\nvehicle of a strong and every way mighty soul, and when on the contrary\nthese two pass into a state of compact union, then the animal is not\nwholly beautiful; for it is without symmetry in the most important\npoints of symmetry, while an animal of opposite character is the fairest\nof all sights that can be beheld. Just therefore, as a body has\nimmoderately long legs, or indeed any other superfluity of parts that\nhinders its internal symmetry, it at once becomes base, in the\nparticipation of labour suffers many afflictions and many convulsions,\nand through suffering an aggregation of accidents, becomes the cause to\nitself of innumerable ills. The same too must be understood concerning\nthat compound essence [of body and soul,] which we term an animal;\u2014as,\nfor instance, when the soul in this compound is stronger than the body,\nand greatly prevails over it, then [the soul,] agitating the whole of it\ninwardly, fills it with diseases; and, by ardent application to learned\npursuits and investigations, causes it to waste away. Lastly, when the\nsoul employs itself in didactic pursuits and logomachies, publicly as\nwell as in private, through a certain ambitious strife, it then inflames\nthe body and dissolves its constitution, and by introducing\ndistillations of humours, deceives the great part of those who are\ncalled physicians, inducing them to consider these effects as proceeding\nfrom contrary causes.\n\nAlso, when a body that is large and superior to the soul in power is\njoined with a small and weak intellect,\u2014there being naturally two\nclasses of desires in man, one of aliment on account of the body, the\nother of wisdom for the sake of our most divine part;\u2014in this case, the\nmotions of the more powerful prevailing and enlarging what is their own,\nbut making the reflective part of the soul deaf, indocile, and\noblivious, thus induce ignorance\u2014the greatest of all diseases. There is\none safety then for both\u2014neither to move the soul without the body, nor\nthe body without the soul; in order that by mutually resisting each\nother they may be equally balanced and in perfect health. The\nmathematician then, or any one else who ardently devotes himself to any\nintellectual pursuit, should at the same time engage the body in\ngymnastic exercises;\u2014and the man, again, who is careful in rightly\nforming his body, should at the same time therewith unite the motions of\nthe soul in the exercises of music and all philosophy; if at least he\nintends to be one, that may justly be called beautiful and at the same\ntime right good.\n\nLXX.\u2014In this very same manner we ought to attend even to the parts of\nthe body, that they may imitate the form of the whole:\u2014for when the body\nis inwardly burnt and cooled by the things that enter it, and again, is\nmoistened by things external, and suffers all the consequences of these\naffections; then if any one gives up his body when quiescent to these\nkinds of motions, he is overcome and perishes.[374] But if any one will\nimitate what we called the tutor and nurse of the universe, and never\nallow the body to be at rest, but perpetually move it and assist its\nnatural motions both within and without, by ever implanting in it\ncertain agitations, and also by moderate agitation bring into order\naccording to their mutual relations the wandering passions and parts of\nthe body, he will not, as we said in our former discourse about the\nuniverse, place foe against foe, and suffer war and disease to be\nproduced in the body,\u2014but, on the other hand, combining friend with\nfriend, will contrive to induce a state of sound health. Of all motions,\nagain, that is the best which takes place in itself from itself: for\nthis is particularly allied to intellect and the motion of the\nuniverse,\u2014that produced by another being inferior:\u2014whereas that is the\nworst of all motions, which, when the body is recumbent and at ease,\nmoves it by means of others and only partially. Hence, therefore, of all\nmodes of cleansing and giving consistence to the body, the best is that\neffected by gymnastics,\u2014the second is that caused by easy conveyance,\neither in a ship or other suitable vehicle; but the third kind of\nmotion, however useful perhaps to one in extreme need, must on no\naccount be otherwise used by any one endued with intellect; and this is\nthat medical kind of motion produced by pharmaceutical purgation:\u2014for\ndiseases, unless they are extremely dangerous, must not be irritated by\nmedicines. Indeed, every form of disease in some respect resembles the\nnature of animals;\u2014for the condition of the latter has allotted to it\nstated periods of life, both as respects individuals and entire races,\nand each animal separately of itself has its fated life apart from the\naffection arising from necessity:\u2014because the triangles, which from the\nvery first have power over each, are so composed, as to suffice only for\na certain time: beyond which period no animal can extend its life. The\nsame condition of things also takes place in the case of diseases; for\nif any one destroys them by medicine before the fated time, he will only\nproduce great diseases out of small, and many out of few. On this\naccount we must discipline all such maladies by proper diet, according\nas each has leisure, and not irritate by medicines an obstinate\ncomplaint.\u2014And thus much may suffice to have been said concerning the\ncommon animal and its corporeal part,\u2014how each governing himself and\ngoverned by himself, may pursue a life regulated by reason.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 374:\n\n  Gr. \u1f45\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd \u03bc\u03ad\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f21\u03c3\u03c5\u03c7\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u1f04\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c3\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03b9\u03b4\u1ff7 \u03c4\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b9\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9, \u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03b7\u03b8\u1f72\u03bd\n  \u03b4\u03b9\u03ce\u03bb\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf.\n\n-----\n\nLXXI.\u2014That part, however, which is to have the government of the animal,\nshould, as far as possible, be better provided, and earlier also, with\nthe power of being the fairest and best in the art of ruling. To treat\naccurately indeed of these matters, would require a separate work of\nitself: but even pursuing it by way of mere by-work (\u1f10\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03ad\u03c1\u03b3\u1ff3), in\naccordance with what has preceded, we shall not be inconsistent, nor\nfail in the end of our inquiries. We have often then before asserted\nthat there are three kinds of soul within us, in three parts of the\nbody, each having its peculiar motions; and so in the same way we must\nnow briefly affirm, that when any one of them is in a torpid state and\nrests from its own proper motions, it must necessarily become extremely\nweak, and only by constant exercise attains the highest degree of\nstrength:\u2014we should be careful therefore that each may preserve its own\nmotions in symmetry with all the rest.\n\nBut with respect to the highest and most leading part of our soul, [_i.\ne._ the human soul,] we should conceive as follows:\u2014that the Deity\nassigned this to each as a d\u00e6mon;\u2014that, namely, which we say, and say\ncorrectly too, resides at the summit of the body and raises us from\nearth to our cognate place in heaven:\u2014for we are plants, not of earth,\nbut heaven; and from the same source whence the soul first arose, a\ndivine nature, raising aloft our head and root, directs our whole\ncorporeal frame. In him, therefore, who has eagerly striven to satisfy\nthe cravings of desire and ambition, all the conceptions engendered in\nhis soul must necessarily be mortal; and he will necessarily, as much as\npossible, become entirely mortal, omitting no effort to improve such a\nnature. For one, however, who is sedulously employed in the acquisition\nof knowledge and true wisdom, and is chiefly practised in this one\npursuit, it is altogether necessary, if he would touch on the truth,\nthat he should be endued with wisdom about immortal and divine concerns;\nand as far as human nature is capable of immortality, he should leave no\npart neglected; and thus, as he ever cultivates that which is divine,\nand has a d\u00e6mon most excellently adorned residing within him, he will be\nexceedingly happy. But the culture of all the parts is one only,\u2014that of\nassigning to each their proper nutriment and motion. But the motions\nallied to the divine part of our nature, are the reflective energies and\ncirculations of the universe. These, then, each of us should pursue;\nrestoring the revolutions in our head that have been corrupted through\nbeing employed on generation, by a diligent investigation of the\nharmonies and circulations of the universe, with the view of\nassimilating the reflective power to the object of reflection according\nto its ancient nature;[375] for, by this assimilation, we shall obtain\nthe end of the best life proposed by the gods to men, both present and\nfuture.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 375:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u1ff3 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd \u1f10\u03be\u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u1ff6\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd,\n  &c. The meaning is, that where the reflective powers are employed in\n  meditating on the universe, they are necessarily brought into harmony\n  with the only true objects of intellect,\u2014and which existed indeed from\n  the first creation.\n\n-----\n\nLXXII.\u2014And now the discussion which we announced at the beginning\nconcerning the universe, as far at least as concerns the generation of\nman, is very nearly completed; for as to the rest of the animals, how\nthey were generated, we will only briefly describe them, except where\nnecessity bids us enlarge: for a person may think that he is thus more\nin measure as concerns such an inquiry. On this subject, then, let us\nspeak as follows:\u2014Of the men that were born, such as are timid, and have\npassed through life unjustly, are, we suppose, changed into women in\ntheir second generation. At that time, then, and for that reason, the\ngods devised the love of copulation; constructing an animated substance,\nand placing one in us men, another in the women,\u2014forming each in the\nfollowing manner:\u2014That passage for the drink, by which these liquids run\nthrough the lungs under the reins into the bladder, and which sends them\nforth as it receives them, by the pressure of the breath,[376]\u2014this [the\ngods] made to pass into the condensed marrow, from the head, along the\nneck, and through the back-bone; and this we called seed in a former\npart of this discourse:\u2014and this [the marrow], in consequence of being\nanimated and endued with respiration, produces in the part where it\nrespires a lively desire of emission,\u2014thus perfecting in us the love of\nprocreation. On this account, the nature of men, as respects their\nprivate parts, becoming insubordinate and imperious, like an animal not\nobedient to reason, tries through raging desire to gain absolute sway.\nThe same is the case with the wombs, and other connected parts of\nwomen,\u2014so called, as forming an animal desirous of procreating children.\nThis, when it remains without fruit long beyond its proper time, becomes\ndiscontented and indignant; and wandering every way through the body, it\nobstructs the passage of the breath, and throws women into extreme\ndifficulties, causing all varieties of diseases, till at length the\ndesire and love of both parties [_i. e._ the man and woman] cause the\nemission of seed, like fruit from a tree; by which emission, they sow in\nthe womb, as in a field, animals invisible from their minute size, and\nyet unformed, which, as they become larger, they nourish within; and\nlastly, by bringing them to light, perfect the generation of animals.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 376:\n\n  This very erroneous view has been before alluded to in a note on ch.\n  xlv. speaking of the lungs. Plato had evidently no knowledge of the\n  action of the kidneys.\n\n-----\n\nLXXIII. Such is the process of generation in women and every female.\nNext succeeded the tribe of birds having feathers instead of hair, which\nwere fashioned from men without vice indeed, but light-minded and\ncurious about things on high, yet conceiving in their folly that the\nstrongest proofs of these things are received through the sight [_i. e._\nthe senses]. Again, the race of wild animals with feet was generated\nfrom men, who made no use of philosophy, nor ever inquired into anything\nthat concerned the nature of the universe,\u2014and this, because they no\nlonger employed the circulations in the head, but followed the guidance\nof those parts of the soul that reside about the breast. Owing to these\npursuits, therefore, they fixed their fore-legs and head earthwards, as\nsuited their nature,\u2014having also long and variously-shaped heads, where\nthe circulations of each were compressed by inactivity:\u2014and hence their\nrace became quadruped and multiped, the Deity giving a greater number of\nfeet to those more than usually unwise, that they might be the more\ndrawn towards the earth. But as regards the most unwise of these, which\nextend all their body along the ground, as if they had no longer any\nneed for feet, the gods formed them without feet to creep on the earth.\nThe fourth class is that living in the water, which was produced from\nsuch men as were to the last degree unthinking and ignorant, and whom\nthose transformers of our nature did not think deserving of a pure\nmedium of respiration, because they possessed a soul rendered impure by\nextreme transgression,\u2014but drove them from the attenuated and pure\natmosphere into the turbid and deep breathing-medium of water:\u2014and hence\narose the tribe of fishes and oysters, and all other aquatic animals,\nwhich have received the most remote habitations, as a punishment of\ntheir extreme ignorance. After this manner then, both formerly and now,\nanimals migrate into each other; experiencing their changes through\neither the loss or acquisition of intellect and folly. We are now at\nlength to say, that our discourse about the universe has reached its\nconclusion;\u2014for not only containing, but full of mortal and immortal\nanimals, it has thus been formed _a visible animal embracing things\nvisible, a sensible god of the intelligible, the greatest, best, and\nmost perfect,\u2014this one only-begotten_ UNIVERSE.\n\n\n                         THE END OF THE TIM\u00c6US.\n\n                      INTRODUCTION TO THE CRITIAS.\n\nThis Dialogue may be considered as an appendix to that preceding, and\nthe fulfilment of a promise which Critias had made in the opening of the\nTim\u00e6us, to give some account of the prim\u00e6val history of the Athenians,\nwhose early manners he supposed to correspond with those of the citizens\nin Socrates\u2019s ideal republic. The Athenians were a people so boastful of\ntheir antiquity, as to arrogate to themselves the name of \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03cc\u03c7\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2;\nand therefore any narrative or legend was likely to be agreeable to\ntheir feelings, which assigned to them even a higher antiquity than they\nreally possessed. This may probably have been a leading motive with\nPlato for constructing this amusing dialogue; more than half of which,\nhowever, is taken up with the description of the Atlantic islands, its\nkings and its inhabitants, who all existed in the time of the primitive\nAthenians, though in Plato\u2019s time they were extinct, and their islands\nsubmerged in the sea. Many curious speculations have been put forth\nrespecting the geography of the Atlantic isles, and some have gone so\nfar as to conjecture them to have been a portion of the modern America.\nThe whole story, however, has so much the appearance of a myth, that it\nseems useless to apply to it any of the laws of historical or\ngeographical criticism. The Dialogue, moreover, is so short as scarcely\nto require any abbreviated account of its contents.\n\n\n\n\n                              THE CRITIAS.\n\n                                \u2014\u2014\u2014\u25cf\u2014\u2014\u2014\n\n                TIM\u00c6US, CRITIAS, SOCRATES, HERMOCRATES.\n\n\nSECT. I.\u2014TIM. I am just as pleased, Socrates, as one at rest after a\nlong journey, that I have now at length been happily released from my\nprotracted discourse![377] And now I implore that God [the universe,]\nlong, long ago created in fact, though only just recently in our\ndiscussion, to establish in security what we have properly stated, but\nas respects aught that we have even involuntarily stated that is not to\nthe purpose, to inflict on us a suitable punishment:\u2014and the right\npunishment for one out of tune is to make him play in tune.[378] In\norder then, that for the future we may speak correctly respecting the\ngeneration of the gods, we beseech him who is the best and most perfect\nto give us a scientific knowledge of medicine; and having thus prayed,\nwe hand over to Critias, as we agreed, the succeeding discourse.\n\nCRIT. Yes, Tim\u00e6us, I receive it:\u2014and as you acted at first, in\nrequesting indulgence as one about to speak on momentous matters, the\nsame also do I now entreat; and I think that I ought the more to obtain\nit for what I am about to say. Yet I know full well that I am making a\nvery ambitious request, and of a more rustic kind than is proper; still\nwe must proceed. That what you have now said has not been well said, who\nin his senses will pretend to say? I must try to show then, that what I\nam about to say needs greater indulgence on account of its greater\ndifficulty:\u2014for it is easier, Tim\u00e6us, to speak and appear to speak\nrightly about the gods to men, than about mortals to us [men]; inasmuch\nas the inexperience and extraordinary ignorance of the hearers about\nthings of this nature, both furnish great facilities to one intending to\nspeak concerning them; but as respects the gods, we know how we are\nsituated. In order, however, that I may clearly show my meaning, follow\nme in what I am about to say. What has been said by the whole of us was\nnecessarily only imitation and resemblance; and now, as regards the\nrepresentation by painters of divine and heavenly[379] objects, we see\nwith what facility or difficulty they contrive that they shall seem to\nthe spectators to be apt imitations; and we shall see also, that with\nrespect to earth, mountains, rivers, woods, and the whole of heaven, and\nall therein, as well as what moves about it, we are satisfied if a\nperson is able to produce even a slight resemblance of them;\u2014but beyond\nthis, as we have no accurate knowledge concerning such matters, we\nneither examine nor find fault with the paintings, but use a mere\nobscure and deceitful sketch of them. But when on the other hand any one\nattempts to represent our bodies, we quickly perceive any omissions,\nthrough our familiar apprehension of them, and become severe critics on\nany one who does not perfectly exhibit their resemblances. The same also\nwe see, to be the case in arguments,\u2014that we are content with even\nslightly resembling statements about heavenly and divine things, while\nwe accurately examine things mortal and human. As regards then what we\nare now immediately saying, if we cannot fully exhibit what is desired,\nyou ought to forgive us, because you must reflect that to form approved\nresemblances of mortal things is no easy task, but very difficult. Now I\nhave said all this, Socrates, wishing to remind you of these things, and\nasking not for less, but more indulgence respecting what is about to be\nsaid. If then I seem to be fairly asking the favour, grant it with all\ncheerfulness.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 377:\n\n  Gr. \u1f10\u03ba \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2.\n\nFootnote 378:\n\n  Gr. \u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03b7 \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f40\u03c1\u03b8\u1f74 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03bc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u1f10\u03bc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u1fc6 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd.\n\nFootnote 379:\n\n  Gr. \u03bf\u1f50\u03c1\u03ac\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1, which Stallbaum has adopted on Cornarius\u2019s conjecture,\n  Instead of the \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03ce\u03c0\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1, the readings both of the editions and MSS.\n\n-----\n\nSECT. II.\u2014SOCR. Why should we hesitate to grant it, Critias?\u2014And\nbesides, we must grant this same indulgence to our third friend,\nHermocrates:\u2014for it is evident, as we shall see presently, that when he\nhas to speak, he will make the same request as you. That he then may\nfurnish with a different commencement and not be compelled to say the\nsame, let him at once speak, as if this indulgence were granted him. I\nmust inform you, however, of the sense of the audience,[380] that the\nformer poet [Tim\u00e6us] has obtained a wonderful deal of applause;\u2014so that\nyou will need a vast quantity of indulgence if you intend to be an able\nsuccessor to him.\n\nHERM. You are making the same announcement to me, Socrates, as to him.\nFaint-hearted men, however, never yet erected a trophy, Critias:\u2014so you\nmust proceed manfully to your discourse, and, invoking P\u00e6an and the\nMuses, exhibit and celebrate these primitive and best of citizens.\n\nCRIT. Ah, friend Hermocrates, you are to speak afterwards[381] and have\nanother before you;\u2014and so you are vastly courageous. What the nature of\nthe task is, however, the fact itself will speedily declare:\u2014and we will\ntherefore be persuaded by your encouragement and exhortation, and in\naddition to the gods that you have mentioned, will call on others\nbesides, and most of all on Memory: for all the most important points of\nour discourse concern that goddess,\u2014inasmuch as it is by suitably\ncalling to mind and relating the narratives of the [Egyptian] priests\nbrought hither by Solon, that I feel satisfied of our being thought by\nthis auditory to have fairly accomplished our part. This therefore we\nmust now do, and without further delay.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 380:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b8\u03b5\u03ac\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03b9\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd. The term \u03b8\u03ad\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd is frequently used to\n  mean the _audience_ only. This was no doubt unknown to those critics,\n  who very unnecessarily conjectured from the use of this term, that\n  Critias had brought out scenic representations.\n\nFootnote 381:\n\n  The old editions read \u1f51\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2; but Bekker and Stallbaum have\n  \u1f51\u03c3\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2, which is adopted here, as agreeing with \u03c4\u03ac\u03be\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 understood.\n\n-----\n\nSECT. III.\u2014First of all then let us recollect, that it is about nine\nthousand years, since war was proclaimed between those dwelling outside\nthe Pillars of Hercules and all those within them,\u2014which war we must now\ndescribe. Of the latter party, then, this city was the leader, and\nconducted the whole war; and of the former the kings of the Atlantic\nIsland, which we said was once larger than Libya and Asia, but now, sunk\nby earthquakes, a mass of impervious mud,[382] which hinders all those\nsailing on the vast sea from effecting a passage hither;\u2014and then our\nstory will, as it were, unfold [to your view] the many barbarous tribes,\nand such of the Greek nations as then existed, as each may happen to\npresent itself:\u2014but the wars of the then Athenians and their adversaries\nwe must first describe, as well as the power and government of each. Of\nthese [our own] people, however, we must be anxious first to speak.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 382:\n\n  Gr. \u03bd\u1fe6\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f51\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b4\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd \u1f04\u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03b7\u03bb\u03cc\u03bd. The old editions read\n  \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\u03ac\u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n-----\n\nSECT. IV.\u2014To the gods was once locally allotted the whole earth, and\nthat, too, without contention;\u2014for it would not be reasonable to suppose\nthat the gods are ignorant of what suits each of themselves, or that,\nfully aware of what is rather the property of others, they would try to\nget possession of it through strife. Obtaining then a country agreeable\nto them by just allotment, they chose these regions for their\nhabitation; and, after settling, they like shepherds reared us, as their\npossessions, flocks and herds,\u2014not however by forcing body against body,\nas shepherds in grazing drive their cattle with blows; but [they treated\nus] as an easily-governed animal, and piloting, as it were, with\npersuasions for a rudder, and working on the soul, they governed the\nentire mortal by leading him according to their own mind. Different\ngods, therefore, having received by lot different regions, proceeded to\ncultivate (or set in order) those [that they had received;]\u2014but\nHeph\u00e6stus and Ath\u00e9n\u00e9 having a common nature, not only related by\nbrotherhood from having the same father, but united also in philosophy\nand love of art,[383] both received this one region as their common\nallotment, as being naturally familiar with and well adapted to virtue\nand wisdom; and after producing worthy men,\u2014natives of the soil\n(\u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03cc\u03c7\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2), arranged to their mind the order of their government:\u2014of\nwhich men, indeed, the names are preserved; though their deeds have\nbecome extinct through the death of those that handed them down and the\nlong lapse of time. The race, indeed, that survived, as it has been\nbefore observed, were a set of unlettered mountaineers, who had heard\nthe names only of the ruling people in the land, and very little about\ntheir deeds. The names they out of affection gave to their children,\nthough unacquainted with the virtues and laws of those before them,\nexcept through certain dark rumours concerning them; and being\nthemselves and their children for many generations in want of\nnecessaries, with which, with all their wit, they were unprovided, they\nbestowed their chief attention on this, to the neglect of events that\nhad taken place in times long gone by:\u2014for mythology and the inquiry\ninto ancient affairs both visit states at a time of leisure, when they\nsee that the necessaries of life have been procured, but not before. In\nthis way, then, the names of the ancients have been preserved without\ntheir deeds:\u2014and I infer this to be the case, as Solon said, that the\npriests in describing the war then waged gave those engaged in them many\nnames\u2014such as Cecrops, Erectheus, Ericthonius, Erysichthon, and most of\nthe other names which are recorded prior to the time of Theseus;\u2014and\nthey gave the names of women likewise. Besides, the figure and image of\nthe goddess shows that at that time both men and women entered in common\non the pursuits of war; as in compliance with that custom an armed\nstatue was dedicated to the goddess by the people of that day,\u2014a proof\nthat all animals that consort together, females as well as males, have a\nnatural ability to pursue in common every suitable virtue.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 383:\n\n  Gr. \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03c7\u03bd\u03af\u1fb3. The old editions have \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03ba\u03bd\u03af\u1fb3, which is an evident\n  error.\n\n-----\n\nSECT. V.\u2014At that time, indeed, there dwelt in this country many other\ntribes of citizens engaged in crafts and the culture of the soil; but\nthe warrior-tribe, being set apart from the first by divine men, lived\nseparately, having all the requisites for food and training, none of\nthem possessing anything in private, but considering all their\npossessions as common, and not deigning to receive anything from the\nrest of the citizens beyond a sufficiency of food, occupying themselves\nmoreover in all the pursuits that we yesterday described as those of\nappointed state-guardians. Moreover, as respects this country of ours,\nit was stated with probability and truth, that in early times it had\nboundaries fixed at the Isthmus and on the side of the other continent\nas far as the heights of Cith\u00e6ron and Parnes, these boundaries coming\ndown, with Oropia on the right, and with the Asopus as a seaward limit\non the left:\u2014and by the valour of this region it was said that the whole\nearth was vanquished, because it was then able to support the numerous\narmy raised from the surrounding people. A great proof of their virtue\nalso was this,\u2014that what now remains of it may vie with any other\nwhatever in the general productiveness of the soil, in the excellence of\nits fruits, and in pastures suited to every kind of animals. Then,\nhowever, it produced all these not only excellent in quality, but in the\ngreatest possible abundance. How then can we believe this;\u2014and in what\nway can it [the present country] rightly be termed a remnant of the\nformer land? The whole from the other continent [_i. e._ the western\nside] extends seaward like a long promontory, and is wholly surrounded\nby the steep-shored basin of the sea. As therefore many and extensive\ndeluges happened in that period of nine thousand years,\u2014for so many\nyears have elapsed from that to the present time,\u2014the earth, that was\nloosened and fell from the heights at these times and under these\ncircumstances, did not, as elsewhere, aggregate to form any elevation\nworth mentioning, but ever eddying round, at length vanished in the\ndeep; and the heights have been left, as is the case in small islands,\nlike the bones of a diseased body, compared with those of former times,\nall the earth that was soft and fat being washed away, leaving only a\nthin body of soil. At that time, however, being undisturbed, it\ncomprised mountains which are now only high hills; and the country, now\ntermed the plains of Phelleus, was then full of fat earth. The mountains\nalso abounded with woods, of which even now there are evident signs:\u2014for\nthere are some of the mountains, which now furnish food for bees only,\nthough at no very distant period the houses were still standing, and in\ngood preservation, that were constructed of the timber cut from the\ntrees thereon, and suitable for the largest buildings. There were many\nlofty trees also, raised by cultivation (\u1f25\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1), and an incalculable\namount of pasture for cattle. Prolific rain especially this land yearly\nenjoyed, not, as now, losing it by its quick passage over the bare earth\ndown to the sea; but received an abundance of it, which it could keep\nwithin itself to dispense over the clayey soil which holds it:\u2014and thus\nsending down the absorbed water from the heights into the hollows, it\ndiffused over all these regions abundant streams of springs and\nrivers,\u2014the truth of which is even now attested by the sacred remains\nobservable in the ancient fountains.[384]\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 384:\n\n  This is an extremely involved and most probably a corrupt passage. We\n  have nearly followed Stallbaum\u2019s interpretation; though it was\n  absolutely necessary, in order to make it readable, to divide the\n  sentence into two clauses.\n\n-----\n\nSECT. VI.\u2014Such was once the natural state of this country;\u2014and it was\ncultivated, as it was likely it would be, by real husbandmen, actually\npractising their calling\u2014lovers of honour and generous-minded, having a\nmost excellent soil, great abundance of water, and an admirably\nattempered climate. It was at this time that the city was founded here\nas follows:\u2014The form of the Acropolis was not then, as it is now;\u2014for in\nlater times [_lit._ now] a single rainy night softened it, and to a\ngreat degree bared it of soil,\u2014there being earthquakes at the same time,\nand a fatal deluge\u2014the third before that of Deucalion. Before this, in\nprimitive times, it extended in size to the Eridanus[385] and Ilissus,\nand comprised the Pnyx, having the Lycabetus as its limit opposite the\nPnyx,\u2014the whole being well covered with soil, except some level spots in\nthe higher part. Its outer parts down the flanks were inhabited by\ncraftsmen and husbandmen who tilled the neighbouring land,\u2014the\nwarrior-classes living separately by themselves in the more elevated\nparts around the temple of Ath\u00e9n\u00e9 and Heph\u00e6stus, which they had formed,\nas it were, into the garden of a single dwelling by encircling it with\none enclosure:\u2014for on the northern side lived those, who erected public\nbuildings and common banquets for the winter, and whatever else was\nsuited to a common polity, buildings as well as temples being unadorned\nwith gold or silver; (for they never at any time used these metals, but\npursuing a middle course between extravagance and meanness, built neat\ndwellings, in which both they and their children\u2019s children grew old,\nand then left them to others like themselves,)\u2014while as regards the\nsouth side, they removed thither their gardens, gymnasia, and common\nrooms of entertainment, which they fixed here during the summer. There\nwas also one single fountain on the spot now occupied by the Acropolis,\nsince the extinction of which by earthquakes only a few small streams\nhave been left round it; although at that time it furnished to every\npart an abundant supply of water, well attempered both for winter and\nsummer. Such was the way of life pursued by the guardians of their own\nstate, who also were leaders of the rest of the Greeks\u2014such at least as\nrequired them; and as to their number they paid special attention, that\nthey should always have the same number of men and women that might both\nthen and in future[386] be able to serve in war,\u2014the whole being about\ntwenty thousand. These men then, being personally such as I have\ndescribed, and ever in some such way justly administering both their own\naffairs and those of Greece, were the most noted and renowned of all the\npeople of that day over all Europe and Asia, both for the beauty of\ntheir bodies and the general virtue of their souls.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 385:\n\n  The Eridanus here mentioned was in Attica:\u2014it is not the Eridanus\n  known by geographers in \u00c6tolia and Acarnania.\n\nFootnote 386:\n\n  Gr. \u1f24\u03b4\u03b7 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f14\u03c4\u03b9. Cornarius here conjectured \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f14\u03c4\u03b7 as the true\n  reading; but as the reading of the MSS. admits of translation, it\n  seems unnecessary.\n\n-----\n\nSECT. VII.\u2014In the next place then, as respects the adversaries of these\nmen, what was their character, and how they first arose, we will now\nimpart this in common to you our friends, if at least we have not lost\nthe recollection of what we heard in our childhood. Yet before we\nnarrate this, we must briefly warn you not to be surprised at hearing\nHellenic names given to barbarians:\u2014and the cause of this you shall now\nhear. Solon, intending to make use of this story in his poetry, made an\ninvestigation into the power of names, and found that the early\nEgyptians who committed these facts to writing transferred these names\ninto their own language; and he again receiving the meaning of each\nname, introduced it by writing into our language. These very writings,\nindeed, were in the possession of my grandfather, and are now in mine,\nhaving been made the subject of much study during my boyhood. If\ntherefore you hear such names as these in this narrative, be not\nsurprised;\u2014for you know the reason. Of a long story, then, let such be\nthe introduction.\n\nSECT. VIII.\u2014As we remarked at first concerning the allotment of the\ngods, that they distributed the whole earth here into larger and there\ninto smaller portions,[387] procuring for themselves temples and public\nsacrifices,\u2014so, Poseidon in particular, taking as his lot the Atlantic\nisland, begot children by a mortal woman, and settled in some such spot\nof the island as we are about to describe. Towards the sea, but in the\ncentre of the whole island, was a plain, which is said to have been the\nfairest of all plains, and distinguished for the excellence [of its\nsoil]. Near this plain, and at its centre, about fifty stadia distant,\nwas a mountain with short acclivities on every side. On this dwelt one\nof those men who in primitive times sprang from the earth, by name\nEvenor, who lived with a wife, Leucippe; and they had an only daughter,\nClito. Now when this girl arrived at marriageable age, and her mother\nand father were dead, Poseidon becoming enamoured, made her his\nmistress, and circularly enclosed the hill on which she dwelt, forming\nthe sea and land into alternate zones, greater and less,\u2014turning, as it\nwere, two out of land and three out of sea, from the centre of the\nisland, all equally distant, so as to be inaccessible to men:\u2014for at\nthat time ships and navigation were not known. And he himself, with his\ndivine power, agreeably adorned the centre of the island, causing two\nfountains of water to shoot upwards from beneath the earth, one cold and\nthe other hot, and making every variety of food to spring abundantly\nfrom the earth. He also begat and brought up five twin-male children;\nand after distributing all the Atlantic island into ten parts, he\nbestowed on the first-born of the eldest pair his mother\u2019s dwelling and\nthe allotment about it,\u2014this being the largest and best; and he\nappointed him king of all the rest, making the others governors, and\ngiving to each the dominion over many people and an extensive territory.\nHe likewise gave all of them names,\u2014to the eldest, who was the king, the\nname of _Atlas_, from whom, as the first sovereign, both the island and\nsea were termed _Atlantic_;\u2014and to the twin born after him, who had\nreceived for his share the extreme parts of the island towards the\nPillars of Hercules, as far as the region which now in that country is\ncalled _Gadeirica_, he gave the titular name, which we Greeks call\nEumelus, but which the people of that country term _Gadeirus_. Of the\nsecond-born twins he called the first Ampheres, the second, Eu\u00e6mon;\u2014of\nthe third, he called the first-born, Mus\u00e6us, and the second,\nAutochthon;\u2014of the fourth, the first, Elasippus, and the younger,\nMestor;\u2014and among the fifth, to the former was given the name Azaes, and\nto the latter, Diaprepes.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 387:\n\n  Gr. \u03bb\u03ae\u03be\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2. The old editions and several MSS. have \u03bc\u03af\u03be\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2.\n\n-----\n\nSECT. IX.\u2014All these, then, and their descendants, dwelt for many\ngenerations, as rulers in the sea of islands, and as we before said, yet\nfurther extended their empire to all the country as far as Egypt and\nTyrrhenia. By far the most distinguished, however, was the race of\nAtlas; and among these the oldest king in succession always handed down\nthe power to his eldest son, all of them successively possessing wealth\nin such abundance as never was before found among regal dynasties, nor\nwill easily be found hereafter; and all things were provided for them,\nwhich in a city, or elsewhere, are worth such provision. Many\npossessions, indeed, accrued to them through their power from foreign\ncountries; but the greatest part of what they stood in need was provided\nfor them by the island itself,\u2014first, such ores as are dug out of mines\nin a solid [_i. e._ virgin] state, or require smelting;\u2014and especially\nthat metal _orichalcum_, which is now known only by name, but formerly\nof high celebrity, was dug out of the earth in many parts of the island,\nbeing considered the most valuable of all the metals then known, except\ngold;\u2014and it produced an abundance of wood for builders, and furnished\nfood also for tame and wild animals. Moreover, there were comprised\nwithin it vast numbers of elephants:\u2014for there were abundant means of\nsupport for all animals that feed in marshes and lakes, on mountains and\nplains, and so likewise for this animal, which by nature is the largest\nand most voracious of all. Besides these, whatever odorous plants the\nearth now bears, whether roots or grass, or woods or distilling gums, or\nflowers or fruits,\u2014these it bore and produced them to perfection. And\nyet, further, it bore cultivated fruits, and dry edible fruits, such as\nwe use for food;\u2014all these kinds of food we call vegetables,\u2014together\nwith all that trees bear, as drinks, meats, and ointments; and those\nalso, whose fruits, such as acorns, being used in sport and pleasure,\nare with difficulty hoarded up, together with certain dainty fruits for\ndessert that might provoke the satiated palate, or please the sick;\u2014all\nthese that once existing and warmly-acclimated island bore, sacred,\nbeautiful, wonderful, and infinite in quantity. Receiving all these,\nthen, from the earth, the inhabitants employed themselves also in\nerecting temples, royal habitations, ports and docks over the whole\nregion, disposing them in the following manner:\u2014\n\nSECT. X.\u2014First of all, those residing about that ancient metropolis\nbridged over those zones of the sea [before mentioned], making a passage\nboth outwards and to the royal palace. And the palace they constructed\nimmediately from the first in this habitation of the god and their\nancestors; and each in turn receiving it from his predecessor, and\nfurther embellishing the ornamental parts, continually surpassed the one\nbefore him, until they made the building quite admirable to the sight\nfor the size and beauty of its works. They dug a trench indeed,\nbeginning from the sea, three plethra broad, a hundred feet deep, and\nfifty stadia in length, as far as the outermost zone, and thus made a\npassage thither from the sea, as into a harbour, by enlarging its mouth\nsufficiently to admit the largest vessels. Besides this, they separated\nby bridges those zones of land which separated those of the sea, so that\nwith one trireme a passage could be effected from one zone to another,\ncovering the zones above, so as to allow a water-way beneath them;\u2014for\nthe banks of the zones of earth rose to a height considerably above the\nsea. And the greatest of these zones into which the sea penetrated was\nthree stadia in breadth, and the zone of land next in order equal to the\nfirst;\u2014of the second pair, the watery circle was two stadia in breadth,\nand that of earth again, equal to the preceding one of water; lastly,\nthe zone running round the centre of the island had the breadth only of\none stadium, and the island in which the king\u2019s palace stood had a\ndiameter of five stadia. This island, as well as the zones, and the\nbridge (which was a plethrum in breadth), they enclosed on both sides\nwith a stone wall, raising towers and gates at intervals on the bridges\nat the places where the sea passes through them [_i. e._ the zones]. The\nstone for it they quarried beneath the circuit of the island, both in\nthe centre and also within and without the zones, one kind of it white,\na second black, and a third red; and by thus quarrying they at the same\ntime made cavities that served for two docks, having likewise a covering\nof rock. Of the buildings, some were of simple structure;\u2014others they\nput together in a variegated style, by mixing the different kinds of\nstone by way of amusement, thus realizing a pleasure suitable to their\nnatures:\u2014and they surrounded with brass the whole circuit of the wall\nround the extreme outer zone, applying it like plaster; that of the next\ninside they covered with melted tin, and the wall round the citadel\nitself with orichalcum that has a fiery resplendence.\n\nSECT. XI.\u2014Next, the royal palace within the citadel was constructed as\nfollows:\u2014In its centre was planted a temple, difficult of access, sacred\nto Clito and Poseidon, surrounded with an enclosure of gold;\u2014and it was\nthat, in which they first generated and produced the race of the ten\nkings; where also, making annual collections from all the ten\nallotments, they celebrated seasonable sacrifices to each. The temple of\nPoseidon himself was a stadium in length, three plethra in breadth, and\nof a height to correspond, having something of a barbaric appearance.\nAll the outside of the temple, except the pinnacles, they lined with\nsilver, but the pinnacles with gold:\u2014and as to the interior, the roof\nwas formed wholly of ivory variegated with gold and orichalcum; and as\nto all the parts\u2014the walls, pillars, and pavements, they lined them with\norichalcum. They also placed in it golden statues, the god himself\n[being represented] as standing on a chariot holding the reins of six\nwinged horses, of such size as to touch the roof with his head, and\nround him a hundred nereids on dolphins;\u2014for those of that day thought\nthat such was their number; and it contained also many other statues\ndedicated to private individuals. Round the outside of the temple\nlikewise golden images were placed of all the men and women that were\ndescended from the ten kings, and many other large statues both of kings\nand private people, both from the city itself, and the foreign countries\nover which they had dominion. There was an altar, too, of corresponding\nsize and workmanship with these ornaments; and the excellence of the\npalace was proportioned to the magnitude of the government and also to\nthe order observed in the sacred ceremonies.\n\nSECT. XII.\u2014Next, they used fountains both from the cold and hot springs,\nof which there was a great abundance, either of which was wonderfully\nwell adapted for use from its sweetness and excellence;[388] and round\nthem they fixed their habitations and excellently-watered plantations,\ntogether with their water-tanks, some open to the heaven, but others for\nwinter use roofed over for warm baths, the kings\u2019 baths and those of\nprivate persons being apart, with separate baths for women, and others\nfor horses and other draught-cattle, providing each with the requisite\nmeans of cleanliness. The stream hence flowing they led to the grove of\nPoseidon, where there were all varieties of trees, reaching a wonderful\nheight, owing to the excellence of the soil, and then conducted it by\nchannels over the bridges to the external circles. And here, indeed,\nthere had been constructed numerous temples dedicated to many different\ngods, and many gardens and gymnasia, one for men, and others separately\nfor horses in either island of the zones;\u2014and for the latter, in\nparticular, there was a race-course plotted out in the centre of the\nlargest island, a stadium in breadth, and extending in length through\nthe whole circumference for a contest of speed between the horses. And\naround it on all sides were barracks for the household troops\ncorresponding with their number;\u2014to the more faithful of whom were\nassigned quarters in the smaller zone closer to the citadel, while those\nwho excelled all in loyal faithfulness had dwellings given them inside\nthe citadel near the kings themselves. The docks likewise were filled\nwith triremes and the fittings requisite for triremes; and they were all\nsatisfactorily provided. Such were the arrangements for the provision of\nthe kings\u2019 dwelling:\u2014but on crossing the three exterior harbours, one\nwas met by a wall which went completely round, beginning from the sea,\neverywhere fifty stadia distant from the greatest [or outermost] zone\nand harbour, and enclosed in one the entrance to the canal and the\nentrance to the sea. The whole of this part indeed was covered with many\nand densely-crowded dwellings;\u2014and the canal and largest harbour were\nfull of vessels and merchants coming from all parts, causing from their\nmultitude all kinds of shouting, tumult, and din all day long and the\nnight through.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 388:\n\n  Gr. \u03c4\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03b4\u1f74 \u03ba\u03c1\u03ae\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03c1\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b8\u03b5\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03bd\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2,\n  \u03c0\u03bb\u1fc6\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f04\u03c6\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03c7\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, \u1f21\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u1fc7 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03c1\u03b5\u03c4\u1fc7 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f51\u03b4\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2\n  \u1f11\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c7\u03c1\u1fc6\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03b8\u03b1\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c6\u03c5\u03ba\u03cc\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f10\u03c7\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf, &c. This is a very\n  difficult and involved sentence; but we have given its meaning as\n  nearly as language will allow. Both Ast and Stallbaum consider the\n  text imperfect from the dropping out of two or more words.\n\n-----\n\nSECT. XIII.\u2014We have now related from memory a description of the city\nand its ancient habitations; and now we must try to describe the nature\nof the rest of the country, and its mode of employment. First, then, the\nwhole region was said to be exceedingly lofty and precipitous towards\nthe sea, and the plain about the city, which encircles it, is itself\nsurrounded by mountains sloping down to the sea, being level and smooth,\nall much extended, three thousand stadia in one direction, and the\ncentral part from the sea above two thousand. And this district of the\nwhole island was turned towards the south, in an opposite direction from\nthe north. The mountains around it, too, were at that time celebrated,\nas exceeding in number, size, and beauty all those of the present\ntime,\u2014having in them many hamlets enriched with villages, as well as\nrivers, lakes, and marshes, furnishing ample supplies of food for all\ncattle both tame and wild, with timber of various descriptions, and in\nabundant quantity for every individual purpose. The plain then being\nthus by nature, was improved as follows by many kings in a long course\nof time. It was of square shape, mostly straight and oblong; and where\nit ended, they bounded it by a trench dug round it,\u2014the depth, breadth,\nand length of which, for a work of man\u2019s making, besides the other\nconnected undertakings, we can scarcely believe, though still we must\nreport what we heard. It was excavated to the depth of a plethrum, and\nthe breadth was a stadium in every part,\u2014the whole excavation made round\nthe plain being ten thousand stadia in length. This, receiving the\nstreams coming down from the mountains, and conducted all round the\nplain, approached the city in some parts, and in this way was allowed to\nflow out to the sea. From above, likewise, straight canals were cut\nabout a hundred feet broad along the plain, back into the ditch near the\nsea, distant from one another about one hundred stadia:\u2014and it was by\nthis that they brought down the timber from the mountains to the city,\nand carried on the rest of their shipping-traffic, cutting transverse\ncanals of communication into each other, and towards the city. Their\nharvest, also, they gathered twice in the year; in winter availing\nthemselves of the rains, and in summer introducing on the land the\nstreams from the trenches.\n\nSECT. XIV.\u2014As to the quantity [of land,] it was ordered, that of the men\non the plain fit for service, each individual leader should have his\nallotment, each allotment amounting in extent to a hundred stadia, and\nthe total of the lots being sixty thousand;\u2014and of those from the\nmountains and the rest of the country there was said to be an\nincalculable number of men, to all of whom, according to their dwellings\nand villages, were assigned certain lots by their respective leaders. To\neach leader, likewise, the task was appointed of furnishing for war the\nsixth portion of a war-chariot (to make up a total of ten thousand), two\nriding horses, and a two-horse car without a driver\u2019s seat, having a\nmounted charioteer to direct the horses,[389] with another to dismount\nand fight at the side,\u2014also two heavy-armed soldiers, two archers, two\nslingers, three each of light-armed men, stone-shooters and javelin-men,\nwith four sailors to make up a complement of one thousand two hundred\nships. Thus were the military affairs of this city arranged. And as\nrespects the nine others, there were different other arrangements, which\nit would be tedious to narrate.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 389:\n\n  Gr. \u1f14\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03be\u03c5\u03bd\u03c9\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b1 \u03c7\u03c9\u03c1\u1f76\u03c2 \u03b4\u03af\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b2\u03ac\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c3\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c3\u03c0\u03af\u03b4\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd\n  \u1f00\u03bc\u03c6\u03bf\u1fd6\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u2019 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b2\u03ac\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03bd \u1f35\u03c0\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd \u1f21\u03bd\u03af\u03bf\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd \u1f14\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd. The old editions\n  read \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b2\u03ac\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2.\n\n-----\n\nSECT. XV.\u2014And as respects official situations and honours, the following\nwere the arrangements made from the commencement:\u2014Of the ten kings, each\nindividually in his own district and over his own city ruled supreme\nover the people and the laws, constraining and punishing whomever he\npleased:\u2014and the government and commonwealth in each was regulated by\nthe injunctions of Poseidon, as the law handed them down; and\ninscriptions were made by the first [kings] on a column of orichalcum,\nwhich was deposited in the centre of the island in the temple of\nPoseidon, where they assembled every fifth year, (which they afterwards\nchanged to every sixth year), taking an equal part both for the entire\nstate and its supernumeraries; and thus collected they consulted\nconcerning the common weal, and inquired what transgressions each had\ncommitted, judging them accordingly. And when they were about to judge,\nthey previously gave each other pledges, according to the following\nfashion:\u2014As there were bulls grazing at liberty in the temple of\nPoseidon, ten men only of the whole number, after invoking the god to\nreceive their sacrifice propitiously, went out to hunt swordless, with\nstaves and chains, and whichever of the bulls they took, they brought it\nto the column and slaughtered it at its head under the inscriptions:\u2014and\non the column, besides the laws, there was an oath written, invoking\ncurses on the disobedient. When, therefore, in compliance with their\nlaws, they sacrificed and burnt all the limbs of the bull, they filled a\ngoblet with clots of blood, and threw the rest into the fire, by way of\npurifying the column:\u2014and after this, dipping out of the goblet with\ngolden cups, they poured libations down on the fire, and swore to do\njustice according to the laws on the column, to punish any one who had\npreviously transgressed them, and besides that, never afterwards\nwillingly to transgress the inscribed laws, nor ever to rule or obey any\nruler governing otherwise than according to his father\u2019s laws. Then\nafter invoking these curses on themselves and their descendants, and\nafter drinking and depositing the cup in the temple of the God, and\nabiding a necessary time at supper, as soon as it was dark, and the fire\nround the sacrifice had been cooled, all of them dressed themselves in\nbeautiful dark-blue robes, and sitting on the ground near the embers of\nthe sacrifice on which they had sworn, extinguished during the night all\nthe fire about the temple, and then mutually judged each other as\nrespects any accusations of transgressing the laws;\u2014and after their acts\nof judgment were over, when day came, they inscribed their decisions on\na golden tablet and deposited them as memorials, together with their\ndresses. There were many other individual laws also respecting the\nprivileges of the kings,\u2014the chief being, that they should never wage\nwar on each other, and that all should lend their aid, in case that any\none in any of their cities should try to destroy the royal\nrace,\u2014consulting in common, as their ancestors did before them, as to\nthe right course both in war and other concerns, and assigning the\nempire to the Atlantic race. They did not allow the king, however, any\nauthority to put to death any of his kinsmen, unless approved of by more\nthan half of the ten.\n\nSECT. XVI.\u2014Such then, and so great being the power at that time in those\nplaces, the Deity transferred it to these regions, as report goes, on\nthe following pretexts:\u2014For many generations, as long as the natural\npower of the god sufficed them, they remained obedient to the laws and\nkindly affected towards the divine nature to which they were allied:\u2014for\nthey possessed true and altogether lofty ideas, and practised mildness\nunited with wisdom, in reference to the casual occurrences of life and\ntowards each other. Hence, looking above everything except virtue, they\nconsidered things present as of small importance, and contentedly bore,\nas a burden, the mass of gold and other property; nor were they deceived\nby the intoxication of luxury, or rendered intemperate through\nwealth;\u2014but on the other hand being sober, they acutely perceived that\nall these things are increased through common friendship mingled with\nvirtue, and that by too anxiously pursuing and honouring them, these\ngoods themselves are corrupted, and with them [friendship] itself\nlikewise perishes. To such a mode of reasoning then, and the abiding of\nsuch a nature, was it owing that they made all the progress that we\nbefore described. But when the divine portion within them became extinct\nthrough much and frequent admixture of the mortal nature, and the\nmanners of men began to hold sway, then, through inability to bear\npresent events, they began to exhibit unbecoming conduct and to the\nintelligent beholder appeared base, destroying the fairest among their\nmost valuable possessions,\u2014though all the while held by those who were\nunable to see a true life of happiness based on truth, to be in the\nhighest degree worthy and blessed, though filled with avarice and unjust\npower. Zeus, however, the god of gods, who rules according to the laws,\nand is able to see into such things, perceiving an honourable race in a\ncondition of wretchedness, and wishing to inflict punishment on them,\nthat they might become more diligent in the practice of temperance,\ncollected all the gods into their own most ancient habitation, which\nindeed, being situated in the centre of the whole world, beholds all\nthings that have had a share in generation:\u2014and having assembled them,\nhe said,    *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *\n\n\n                        THE END OF THE CRITIAS.\n\n\n\n\n                               APPENDIX.\n\n\n                           (_See page 235._)\n\nThe difficulty of the passage here alluded to, which has baffled the\nefforts of every critic, from Proclus and Iamblichus downwards, gave\nrise in ancient times to the trite proverb\u2014_Numeris Platonicis nihil\nobscurius_.\u2014nor has the ingenuity of modern speculators thrown much\nlight on its obscurity. Baroccius, however, a Venetian nobleman, in\n1566, gave to the world with more pretence than merit, a wordy\ndissertation professing to solve this knotty problem. The words of Plato\nare\u2014\u1f14\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03b8\u03b5\u03af\u1ff3 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03b7\u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03bf\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f23\u03bd \u1f00\u03c1\u03b9\u03b8\u03bc\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03b2\u03ac\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2,\n\u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03b5\u03af\u1ff3 \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f10\u03bd \u1fa7 \u03c0\u03c1\u03ce\u03c4\u1ff3 \u03b1\u1f50\u03be\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b4\u03c5\u03bd\u03ac\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1\u03af \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b4\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c5\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2\n\u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, \u03c4\u03ad\u03c4\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f45\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03bb\u03b1\u03b2\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f41\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03cd\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03cd\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd\n\u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b1\u1f50\u03be\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c6\u03b8\u03b9\u03bd\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03ae\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1fe5\u03b7\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bb\u03b1\n\u1f00\u03c0\u03ad\u03c6\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03bd\u00b7 \u1f67\u03bd \u1f10\u03c0\u03af\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c5\u03b8\u03bc\u1f74\u03bd \u03c0\u03b5\u03bc\u03c0\u03ac\u03b4\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c5\u03b6\u03c5\u03b3\u03b5\u1f76\u03c2 \u03b4\u03cd\u03bf \u1f01\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03ad\u03c7\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\n\u03c4\u03c1\u1f76\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03be\u03b7\u03b8\u03b5\u03af\u03c2, \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f34\u03c3\u03b7\u03bd \u1f30\u03c3\u03ac\u03ba\u03b9\u03c2, \u1f11\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03c3\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03ac\u03ba\u03b9\u03c2, \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f30\u03c3\u03bf\u03bc\u03ae\u03ba\u03b7\n\u03bc\u1f72\u03bd, \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03bc\u03ae\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b4\u03ad, \u1f11\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f00\u03c1\u03b9\u03b8\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03bc\u03ad\u03c4\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u1fe5\u03b7\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03b5\u03bc\u03c0\u03ac\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2\n\u03b4\u03b5\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u1f11\u03bd\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f11\u03ba\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, \u1f00\u1fe4\u1fe5\u03b7\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03b4\u03c5\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, \u1f11\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03cd\u03b2\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03ac\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2\u00b7 \u03be\u03cd\u03bc\u03c0\u03b1\u03c2\n\u03b4\u1f72 \u03bf\u1f57\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f00\u03c1\u03b9\u03b8\u03bc\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b3\u03b5\u03c9\u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2, \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03cd\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f00\u03bc\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03ad\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03bd, &c. With reference to the former part, he says that\nPlato is alluding to _ratios of greater or less inequality_,\u2014to which\nrespectively belong multiples and submultiples, superparticulars and\nsubsuperparticulars, &c., following the language of the schoolmen. Then\nagain, as to the term \u1f10\u03c0\u03af\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c5\u03b8\u03bc\u03ae\u03bd which had been variously rendered\nby the Latin _radix_, _propago_, _fundus_, and _solidum_, he conceives\nit to be a root or prime number, and fixes on the number _seven_ as its\nrepresentative (4 + 3 = 7). Further, by the two harmonics, he supposes\nPlato to mean the connexion between the _square_ and the _cube_ of\nTWELVE, which is itself made up of seven and five (\u1f10\u03c0\u03af\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c5\u03b8\u03bc\u1f74\u03bd\n\u03c0\u03b5\u03bc\u03c0\u03ac\u03b4\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c5\u03b6\u03c5\u03b3\u03b5\u03af\u03c2),\u2014_i. e._ 144 and 1728,\u2014_twelve_ being a number often\nmentioned by Plato, as not only _perfect_, but the type of\nperfection,\u2014the dodecahedron having given origin to the sphere, and\nbeing the type of the world,\u2014as he has expressly stated in the Tim\u00e6us.\nIf this be granted, the geometric or mathematical\u2014perfect or\nfatal\u2014number may be considered to be the cube of 12 = 1728. This\nopinion, however, is strongly impugned by Schneider, who conceives it to\nbe 216, _i. e._ \u221b6,\u2014which is made up of three other cubes; 27, 64, and\n125, _i. e._ \u221b3, \u221b4, and \u221b5. Others again have considered the root to be\n9,\u2014the cube-root of 729. So much for the \u1f10\u03c0\u03af\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c5\u03b8\u03bc\u03ae\u03bd.\n\nAs to the elucidation, however, of the principal difficulties herein\ninvolved, we are still as far afield as ever;\u2014nor has the united\nlearning of Schneider, Trendelenburg, B\u00f6ckh, Schleiermacher, or Cousin,\nremoved any obstacle to their successful solution. To state their\ntheories at length would take up much space without any adequate\nbenefit;\u2014and this must be our apology for substituting so short a notice\nfor what we intended to be a lengthened statement. Many details however\non this _vexata qu\u00e6stio_ may be gathered by the patient reader from\nSchneider\u2019s preface to vol. iii. of his edition of Plato,\u2014Cousin\u2019s note\nin his translation _ad locum_,\u2014and his translation of Proclus, with\nnotes _ad locum_. It must be confessed, however, that the question still\nremains open and unsolved\u2014still, _dignus vindice nodus_.\n\n                                THE END.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n                           Transcriber\u2019s Note\n\nThe Greek word \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 (\u201cand\u201d) was twice abbreviated to a single ligature\ncharacter (\u03d7\u0300 ) (pp. xvii, xviii).\n\n\u201cHeraclitus\u201d is twice spelled \u201cHeracl_e_itus\u201d (p. ii) / \u201cHeracl_ei_tean\u201d\n(p. vi).\n\nAt xiii.24, a quotation from Constantin Ritter has no closing quotation\nmark. This has been added after the first sentence, where the following\nspacing seems suspiciously large, indicating a possible dropped ending\nmark.\n\nAt 4.41, the phrase \u201c_s. lubenter_ ver\u00f2...\u201d does not agree with the\nversion available at the Perseus repository \u201c_ego_ vero istinc sicut a\ndomino agresti ac furioso profugi.\u201d A note there offers \u201c_libenter_\nvero...\u201d as an alternative.\n\nAt 37.22, the editor translates \u201c\u1f10\u03c0\u2019 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u03c6\u03ce\u03c1\u1ff3 \u03bb\u03b1\u03b2\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd\u201d as \u201cto catch in\nthe _fact_\u201d. This is usually rendered as _act_, though either might be\nconstrued as correct.\n\n173.37: The passage given at footnote 186 on p. 173 seems to confuse\nfeminine and neuter forms. This is the orininal passage: \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03ac \u03c4\u03b5\n\u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u03ae\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b5\u03af, \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b2\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c4\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u1f7a _\u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd_ \u03c0\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b2\u03c5\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\n\u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b2\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1, \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd _\u03c4\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2_ \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u1f00\u03be\u03af\u03b1\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c7\u03bf\u03bb\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2.\n\n304.35: The Myth of Er is recounted here, however, the printer included\ntwo characters (given as X here), which are blotted by hand. These were\nremoved, and a comma has been added, viz., \u201ca brave man, Er[XX], the son\nof Armenius....\u201d\n\n431.3: On p. 431 of the brief Appendix, the editor includes a\nmathematical discussion which erroneous prints the cube of 3, 4, 5, and\n6 as the cube _root_ of each: \u221b3 \u221b4, \u221b5, \u221b6. They should have appeared\nas 3^3, 4^3, 5^3 and 6^3.\n\nErrors deemed most likely to be the typesetter\u2019s have been corrected,\nand are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the\noriginal.\n\n  vii.1    The most obvious arrangemen[t]                 Restored.\n\n  ix.21    who taught entirely \u03c0\u03c1[\u03bf/\u1f78]\u03c2 \u03b4\u03cc\u03be\u03b1\u03bd             Replaced.\n\n  xi.36    \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8[\u2019] \u03b1\u1f51\u03c4\u1f78                            Added.\n\n  xxi.17   \u1f10\u03bd \u03b1\u1f51\u03c4\u1ff7 [\u03bc\u03ae\u03b4\u03b5/\u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u1f72] \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03c0\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd             Replaced.\n\n  xxi.8    (\u03c6\u03c1[\u03bf\u03bd\u03ae/\u03cc\u03bd\u03b7]\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2)                               Replaced.\n\n  xxi.31   \u1f21 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba[\u03b7/\u03ae]                               Replaced.\n\n  xxi.3    \u1f10\u03c0\u03af\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd [\u1f44/\u1f42]\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1ff7 \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9            Replaced.\n\n  xvi.26   are ever inferior to it.[\u2019/\u201d]                  Replaced.\n\n  xxiii.1  \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1[\u03b1/\u03ac]\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1                                 Replaced.\n\n  xxv.12   (\u1f00\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1[\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9/\u03b1\u03c4\u03af]\u03b1)                           Replaced.\n\n  xxv.39   liberality and magnanimity[.]                  Added.\n\n  10.39    \u1f43\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03ce\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f10\u03ba\u03ad\u03ba\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf \u039a\u03bb\u03b5\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u1fc3 \u03b8\u2019, \u1f45\u03c1\u03ba[\u1ff4/\u1ff3]  Replaced.\n\n  22.37    \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03b5[\u03b9/\u1fd6] \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4[\u03c9/\u1ff6]\u03bd               Replaced.\n\n  29.39    The term \u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u1ff6\u03bd [\u03c5/\u1f55]\u03b8\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 or \u03bc\u1fe6\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2              Replaced.\n\n  42.34    Op. et Di. [\u00ef/v]. 231                          Replaced.\n\n  43.33    The  \u1f00\u03b3[\u03c5/\u03cd]\u03c1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 were a species                Replaced.\n\n  45.38    \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03bc[\u03c9/\u1ff6]\u03c2 \u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03af\u03b6\u03bf\u03c5                      Replaced.\n\n  45.40    \u1f00\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b5[\u1f37/\u1f36]\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd                      Replaced.\n\n  45.41    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd                 Replaced.\n\n  45.43    \u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03ce\u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1[.]                                   Added.\n\n  47.38    \u1f65\u03c2 \u03b3[\u2019] \u1f10\u03bc\u03bf[\u03b9/\u1f76] \u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6                         Added /\n                                                          Replaced.\n\n  63.41    Far from it[.]                                 Added.\n\n  64.36    \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f10\u03bd [\u1fa6/\u1fa7] \u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6                             Replaced.\n\n  79.1     the husbandman is[ ]only a husbandman          Inserted.\n\n  81.31    \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf[\u03c2/\u03c3]\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1\u03c2                              Replaced.\n\n  90.38    \u03a0\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03af\u03b7 \u03b4[\u03b5/\u1f72] \u039c\u03af\u03b4\u03b5\u03c9                          Replaced.\n\n  93.9     What are you speaking about? said  he[,/.]     Replaced.\n\n  163.34   what we are to say to him[./,]\u2014are we          Replaced.\n\n  167.42   as it has form, mode, and reason of            Probable.\n           existence,[)]\n\n  168.34   \u03bd\u03c5\u03ba\u03c4[\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9/\u03b5\u03c1\u03af]\u03b4\u03b1 \u1f41 \u03b5\u1f50\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c7\u03bf\u03c2                     Replaced.\n\n  169.33   \u1f34\u03c3\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd[\u03c9/\u03ce]\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9                         Replaced.\n\n  171.40   who has moderate desires[./,]                  Replaced.\n\n  172.38   \u1f04\u03c1\u2019 \u1f02\u03bd \u03bf[\u1f36/\u1f37]\u03cc\u03c2 \u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f34\u03b7 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03bc\u03b7\u03c2               Replaced.\n\n  178.43   \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf \u03bf\u1f54\u03c4\u03b5 \u03be\u03c5\u03b3\u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1 \u03bf[\u1f34/\u1f35]\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b5 \u1f10\u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd       Replaced.\n\n  180.11   call this wisdom and[,] apply himself          Removed.\n\n  183.39   \u1f51\u03c0\u1f78 \u03b4[\u03b5/\u1f72] \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5\u03c7\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd                          Replaced.\n\n  183.40   \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03b8\u03c1\u03c5\u03bc\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9[ \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70] \u03c4\u1f70\u03c2 \u03b2\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03c2         Restored.\n           \u03c4\u03c5\u03b3\u03c7\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd.\n\n  187.40   an elegant phrase equivalent to \u03c7\u03b1[\u03b9\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6/\u03af\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9]\u03bd Replaced.\n\n  187.41   [\u1f11/\u1f10]\u03ce\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd                                     Replaced.\n\n  206.38   \u03c4\u03ad\u03c7\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bc[\u03b5/\u1f72]\u03bd \u03bc\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2                          Replaced.\n\n  219.35   \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b4[\u03b5/\u1f72] \u1f00\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u03b9\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u1f7a                       Replaced.\n\n  231.31   it is now clear, p[a/e]rhaps,                  Replaced.\n\n  240.31   the amount of their property[./,]              Replaced.\n\n  245.4    must necessarily be neglected[.]               Added.\n\n  246.40   \u1f10\u03bd \u03bc\u03ac\u03c7\u1fc3 \u03c0\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u1ff3 \u1f10\u03c3[\u03c4/\u03ba]\u03b9\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03ae\u03ba\u03bf\u03c4\u03b9             Replaced.\n\n  266.8    a[t/s] the democratic man                      Replaced.\n\n  266.41   \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03c3\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd \u1f21\u03b4\u1f7a \u03c4[\u1f02/\u1f00]\u03bd \u03b4\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9                   Replaced.\n\n  266.42   \u03bb\u03c5\u03c0\u03b7\u03c1\u03ac[\u03c4\u03af\u03c2\u00b7/\u00b7 \u03c4\u03af\u03c2] \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1                         Misplaced\n                                                          colon.\n\n  276.37   who are filling w[i]th unreal                  Inserted.\n\n  293.36   is rather this last[.]                         Added.\n\n  295.39   in our private misfortu[u/n]es                 Inverted.\n\n  330.40   \u1f41 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u03bf[\u1f56/\u1f57]\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2                         Replaced.\n\n  336.30   and inter[e]fere with them unseasonably        Removed.\n\n  322.35   it was said by the Syracusans to[ be] the best Probably.\n           governed\n\n  323.39   forth to the god[o/d]ess                       Replaced.\n\n  329.41   _[E/\u00c9]tudes sur le Tim\u00e9e_                      Replaced.\n\n  344.41   \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u2019 [\u1f14\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1/\u1f10\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd\u03b1] \u03b3\u03ad\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5.                   Replaced.\n\n  356.35   \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9[\u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9/\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u1f76] \u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9.                     Replaced.\n\n  356.36   [\u03b5/\u1f10]\u03ba\u03bc\u03b1\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd                                  Replaced.\n\n  356.38   \u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 [\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03c2/\u03bf\u1f50\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03c2]                         Replaced.\n\n  357.35a  \u03c0\u1fe6\u03c1 \u03bc[\u1f10/\u1f72]\u03bd \u1f11\u03ba\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5                           Replaced.\n\n  357.35b  \u1f78 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u03c9\u03bc\u1f10\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03bc[\u1f10/\u03ad]\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2                        Replaced.\n\n  362.39   [\u1f45/\u1f44]\u03b3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b1 \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03b5\u03bd                    Replaced.\n\n  381.33   The old editions have [\u1f04/\u1f05]\u03bc\u03b1                  Replaced.\n\n  386.36   \u03ba\u03b5\u03c6[\u03ac\u03bb\u03b7/\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74]                                   Replaced.\n\n  391.39   \u1f15\u03bd\u03b5\u03ba[\u03ac/\u03b1], \u03c6\u03b7\u03c3[\u03b9/\u03af]                            Replaced.\n\n  415.35   \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b8\u03b5\u03ac\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03b9[\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03af/\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9]\u03bd                 Replaced.\n\n  424.42   \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 [\u1f10/\u1f11]\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c7\u03c1\u1fc6\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd                   Replaced.","title":"The works of Plato (Vol. 2 of 6) : $b A new and literal version chiefly from the text of Stallbaum","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":189922}