BOOK VI.

[Sidenote: _Republic VI._ Socrates, Glaucon.]

*484A* And thus, Glaucon, after the argument has gone a weary way, the

true and the false philosophers have at length appeared in view.

I do not think, he said, that the way could have been shortened.

[Sidenote: If we had time, we might have a nearer view of the true and

false philosopher.]

I suppose not, I said; and yet I believe that we might have had a better

view of both of them if the discussion could have been confined to this

one subject and if there were not many other questions awaiting us, which

he who desires to see in what respect the life of the just differs from

*484B* that of the unjust must consider.

And what is the next question? he asked.

Surely, I said, the one which follows next in order. Inasmuch as

philosophers only are able to grasp the eternal and unchangeable, and

those who wander in the region of the many and variable are not

philosophers, I must ask you which of the two classes should be the rulers

of our State?

And how can we rightly answer that question?

[Sidenote: Which of them shall be our guardians?]

Whichever of the two are best able to guard the laws and *484C*

institutions of our State--let them be our guardians.

Very good.

[Sidenote: A question hardly to be asked.]

Neither, I said, can there be any question that the guardian who is to

keep anything should have eyes rather than no eyes?

There can be no question of that.

And are not those who are verily and indeed wanting in the knowledge of

the true being of each thing, and who have in their souls no clear

pattern, and are unable as with a painter's eye to look at the absolute

truth and to that original *484D* to repair, and having perfect vision of

the other world to order the laws about beauty, goodness, justice in this,

if not {181} already ordered, and to guard and preserve the order of

them--are not such persons, I ask, simply blind?

Truly, he replied, they are much in that condition.

And shall they be our guardians when there are others who, besides being

their equals in experience and falling short of them in no particular of

virtue, also know the very truth of each thing?

There can be no reason, he said, for rejecting those who have this

greatest of all great qualities; they must always have the first place

unless they fail in some other respect.

*485A* Suppose then, I said, that we determine how far they can unite this

and the other excellences.

By all means.

[Sidenote: The philosopher is a lover of truth and of all true being.]

In the first place, as we began by observing, the nature of the

philosopher has to be ascertained. We must come to an understanding about

him, and, when we have done so, then, if I am not mistaken, we shall also

acknowledge that such an union of qualities is possible, and that those in

whom they are united, and those only, should be rulers in the State.

What do you mean?

Let us suppose that philosophical minds always love knowledge *485B* of a

sort which shows them the eternal nature not varying from generation and

corruption.

Agreed.

And further, I said, let us agree that they are lovers of all true being;

there is no part whether greater or less, or more or less honourable,

which they are willing to renounce; as we said before of the lover and the

man of ambition.

True.

And if they are to be what we were describing, is there *485C* not another

quality which they should also possess?

What quality?

Truthfulness: they will never intentionally receive into their mind

falsehood, which is their detestation, and they will love the truth.

Yes, that may be safely affirmed of them.

'May be,' my friend, I replied, is not the word; say rather 'must be

affirmed:' for he whose nature is amorous of anything cannot help loving

all that belongs or is akin to the object of his affections. {182}

Right, he said.

And is there anything more akin to wisdom than truth?

How can there be?

Can the same nature be a lover of wisdom and a lover of *485D* falsehood?

Never.

The true lover of learning then must from his earliest youth, as far as in

him lies, desire all truth?

Assuredly.

But then again, as we know by experience, he whose desires are strong in

one direction will have them weaker in others; they will be like a stream

which has been drawn off into another channel.

True.

[Sidenote: He will be absorbed in the pleasures of the soul, and therefore

temperate and the reverse of covetous or mean.]

He whose desires are drawn towards knowledge in every form will be

absorbed in the pleasures of the soul, and will hardly feel bodily

pleasure--I mean, if he be a true philosopher and not a sham one.

*485E* That is most certain.

Such an one is sure to be temperate and the reverse of covetous; for the

motives which make another man desirous of having and spending, have no

place in his character.

Very true.

*486A* Another criterion of the philosophical nature has also to be

considered.

What is that?

There should be no secret corner of illiberality; nothing can be more

antagonistic than meanness to a soul which is ever longing after the whole

of things both divine and human.

Most true, he replied.

[Sidenote: In the magnificence of his contemplations he will not think

much of human life.]

Then how can he who has magnificence of mind and is the spectator of all

time and all existence, think much of human life?

He cannot.

*486B* Or can such an one account death fearful?

No indeed.

Then the cowardly and mean nature has no part in true philosophy? {183}

Certainly not.

Or again: can he who is harmoniously constituted, who is not covetous or

mean, or a boaster, or a coward--can he, I say, ever be unjust or hard in

his dealings?

Impossible.

[Sidenote: He will be of a gentle, sociable, harmonious nature; a lover of

learning, having a good memory and moving spontaneously in the world of

being.]

Then you will soon observe whether a man is just and gentle, or rude and

unsociable; these are the signs which distinguish even in youth the

philosophical nature from the unphilosophical.

True.

*486C* There is another point which should be remarked.

What point?

Whether he has or has not a pleasure in learning; for no one will love

that which gives him pain, and in which after much toil he makes little

progress.

Certainly not.

And again, if he is forgetful and retains nothing of what he learns, will

he not be an empty vessel?

That is certain.

Labouring in vain, he must end in hating himself and his fruitless

occupation? Yes.

*486D* Then a soul which forgets cannot be ranked among genuine

philosophic natures; we must insist that the philosopher should have a

good memory?

Certainly.

And once more, the inharmonious and unseemly nature can only tend to

disproportion?

Undoubtedly.

And do you consider truth to be akin to proportion or to disproportion?

To proportion.

Then, besides other qualities, we must try to find a naturally

well-proportioned and gracious mind, which will move spontaneously towards

the true being of everything.

Certainly.

*486E* Well, and do not all these qualities, which we have been

enumerating, go together, and are they not, in a manner, necessary to a

soul, which is to have a full and perfect participation of being? {184}

*487A* They are absolutely necessary, he replied.

[Sidenote: Conclusion: What a blameless study then is philosophy!]

And must not that be a blameless study which he only can pursue who has

the gift of a good memory, and is quick to learn,--noble, gracious, the

friend of truth, justice, courage, temperance, who are his kindred?

The god of jealousy himself, he said, could find no fault with such a

study.

And to men like him, I said, when perfected by years and education, and to

these only you will entrust the State.

[Sidenote: Socrates, Adeimantus.]

[Sidenote: Nay, says Adeimantus, you can prove anything, but your hearers

are unconvinced all the same.]

[Sidenote: Common opinion declares philosophers to be either rogues or

useless.]

*487B* Here Adeimantus interposed and said: To these statements, Socrates,

no one can offer a reply; but when you talk in this way, a strange feeling

passes over the minds of your hearers: They fancy that they are led astray

a little at each step in the argument, owing to their own want of skill in

asking and answering questions; these littles accumulate, and at the end

of the discussion they are found to have sustained a mighty overthrow and

all their former notions appear to be turned upside down. And as unskilful

players of draughts are at last shut up by their more skilful adversaries

*487C* and have no piece to move, so they too find themselves shut up at

last; for they have nothing to say in this new game of which words are the

counters; and yet all the time they are in the right. The observation is

suggested to me by what is now occurring. For any one of us might say,

that although in words he is not able to meet you at each step of the

argument, he sees as a fact that the votaries of philosophy, when they

carry on the study, not only in youth as a part of *487D* education, but

as the pursuit of their maturer years, most of them become strange

monsters, not to say utter rogues, and that those who may be considered

the best of them are made useless to the world by the very study which you

extol.

Well, and do you think that those who say so are wrong?

I cannot tell, he replied; but I should like to know what is your opinion.

[Sidenote: Socrates, instead of denying this statement, admits the truth

of it.]

Hear my answer; I am of opinion that they are quite right.

*487E* Then how can you be justified in saying that cities will not cease

from evil until philosophers rule in them, when philosophers are

acknowledged by us to be of no use to them?

You ask a question, I said, to which a reply can only be given in a

parable. {185}

Yes, Socrates; and that is a way of speaking to which you are not at all

accustomed, I suppose.

[Sidenote: A parable.]

[Sidenote: The noble captain whose senses are rather dull (the people in

their better mind); the mutinous crew (the mob of politicians); and the

pilot (the true philosopher).]

I perceive, I said, that you are vastly amused at having plunged me into

such a hopeless discussion; but now hear *488A* the parable, and then you

will be still more amused at the meagreness of my imagination: for the

manner in which the best men are treated in their own States is so

grievous that no single thing on earth is comparable to it; and therefore,

if I am to plead their cause, I must have recourse to fiction, and put

together a figure made up of many things, like the fabulous unions of

goats and stags which are found in pictures. Imagine then a fleet or a

ship in which there is *488B* a captain who is taller and stronger than

any of the crew, but he is a little deaf and has a similar infirmity in

sight, and his knowledge of navigation is not much better. The sailors are

quarrelling with one another about the steering--every one is of opinion

that he has a right to steer, though he has never learned the art of

navigation and cannot tell who taught him or when he learned, and will

further assert that it cannot be taught, and they are ready to cut in

pieces any *488C* one who says the contrary. They throng about the

captain, begging and praying him to commit the helm to them; and if at any

time they do not prevail, but others are preferred to them, they kill the

others or throw them overboard, and having first chained up the noble

captain's senses with drink or some narcotic drug, they mutiny and take

possession of the ship and make free with the stores; thus, eating and

drinking, they proceed on their voyage in such manner as *488D* might be

expected of them. Him who is their partisan and cleverly aids them in

their plot for getting the ship out of the captain's hands into their own

whether by force or persuasion, they compliment with the name of sailor,

pilot, able seaman, and abuse the other sort of man, whom they call a

good-for-nothing; but that the true pilot must pay attention to the year

and seasons and sky and stars and winds, and whatever else belongs to his

art, if he intends to be really qualified for the command of a ship, and

that he must and *488E* will be the steerer, whether other people like or

not--the possibility of this union of authority with the steerer's art has

never seriously entered into their thoughts or been made *489A* part {186}

of their calling[1]. Now in vessels which are in a state of mutiny and by

sailors who are mutineers, how will the true pilot be regarded? Will he

not be called by them a prater, a star-gazer, a good-for-nothing?

[Footnote 1: Or, applying [Greek: o(/pôs de\ kubernê/sei] to the

mutineers, 'But only understanding ([Greek: e)pai+/ontas]) that he (the

mutinous pilot) must rule in spite of other people, never considering that

there is an art of command which may be practised in combination with the

pilot's art.']

Of course, said Adeimantus.

[Sidenote: The interpretation.]

Then you will hardly need, I said, to hear the interpretation of the

figure, which describes the true philosopher in his relation to the State;

for you understand already.

Certainly.

Then suppose you now take this parable to the gentleman who is surprised

at finding that philosophers have no honour in their cities; explain it to

him and try to convince him that *489B* their having honour would be far

more extraordinary.

I will.

[Sidenote: The uselessness of philosophers arises out of the unwillingness

of mankind to make use of them.]

Say to him, that, in deeming the best votaries of philosophy to be useless

to the rest of the world, he is right; but also tell him to attribute

their uselessness to the fault of those who will not use them, and not to

themselves. The pilot should not humbly beg the sailors to be commanded by

him--that is not the order of nature; neither are 'the wise to go to the

doors of the rich'--the ingenious author of this saying told a lie--but

the truth is, that, when a man is ill, *489C* whether he be rich or poor,

to the physician he must go, and he who wants to be governed, to him who

is able to govern. The ruler who is good for anything ought not to beg his

subjects to be ruled by him; although the present governors of mankind are

of a different stamp; they may be justly compared to the mutinous sailors,

and the true helmsmen to those who are called by them good-for-nothings

and star-gazers.

Precisely so, he said.

[Sidenote: The real enemies of philosophy her professing followers.]

For these reasons, and among men like these, philosophy, the noblest

pursuit of all, is not likely to be much esteemed *489D* by those of the

opposite faction; not that the greatest and most lasting injury is done to

her by her opponents, but by her own professing followers, the same of

whom you {187} suppose the accuser to say, that the greater number of them

are arrant rogues, and the best are useless; in which opinion I agreed.

Yes.

And the reason why the good are useless has now been explained?

True.

[Sidenote: The corruption of philosophy due to many causes.]

Then shall we proceed to show that the corruption of the majority is also

unavoidable, and that this is not to be laid to *489E* the charge of

philosophy any more than the other?

By all means.

And let us ask and answer in turn, first going back to the *490A*

description of the gentle and noble nature. Truth, as you will remember,

was his leader, whom he followed always and in all things; failing in

this, he was an impostor, and had no part or lot in true philosophy.

Yes, that was said.

Well, and is not this one quality, to mention no others, greatly at

variance with present notions of him?

Certainly, he said.

[Sidenote: But before considering this, let us re-enumerate the qualities

of the philosopher:]

And have we not a right to say in his defence, that the true lover of

knowledge is always striving after being--that is his nature; he will not

rest in the multiplicity of individuals *490B* which is an appearance

only, but will go on--the keen edge will not be blunted, nor the force of

his desire abate until he have attained the knowledge of the true nature

of every essence by a sympathetic and kindred power in the soul, and by

that power drawing near and mingling and becoming incorporate with very

being, having begotten mind and truth, he will have knowledge and will

live and grow truly, and then, and not till then, will he cease from his

travail.

Nothing, he said, can be more just than such a description of him.

[Sidenote: his love of essence, of truth, of justice, besides his other

virtues and natural gifts.]

And will the love of a lie be any part of a philosopher's nature? Will he

not utterly hate a lie?

*490C* He will.

And when truth is the captain, we cannot suspect any evil of the band

which he leads?

Impossible. {188}

Justice and health of mind will be of the company, and temperance will

follow after?

True, he replied.

Neither is there any reason why I should again set in array the

philosopher's virtues, as you will doubtless remember that courage,

magnificence, apprehension, memory, were his natural gifts. And you

objected that, although no one could *490D* deny what I then said, still,

if you leave words and look at facts, the persons who are thus described

are some of them manifestly useless, and the greater number utterly

depraved; we were then led to enquire into the grounds of these

accusations, and have now arrived at the point of asking why are the

majority bad, which question of necessity brought us back to the

examination and definition of the true philosopher.

*490E* Exactly.

[Sidenote: The reasons why philosophical natures so easily deteriorate.]

And we have next to consider the corruptions of the philosophic nature,

why so many are spoiled and so few escape spoiling--I am speaking of those

who were said to be *491A* useless but not wicked--and, when we have done

with them, we will speak of the imitators of philosophy, what manner of

men are they who aspire after a profession which is above them and of

which they are unworthy, and then, by their manifold inconsistencies,

bring upon philosophy, and upon all philosophers, that universal

reprobation of which we speak.

What are these corruptions? he said.

[Sidenote: (1) There are but a few of them;]

I will see if I can explain them to you. Every one will admit that a

nature having in perfection all the qualities *491B* which we required in

a philosopher, is a rare plant which is seldom seen among men.

Rare indeed.

And what numberless and powerful causes tend to destroy these rare

natures!

What causes?

[Sidenote: (2) and they may be distracted from philosophy by their own

virtues;]

In the first place there are their own virtues, their courage, temperance,

and the rest of them, every one of which praiseworthy qualities (and this

is a most singular circumstance) destroys and distracts from philosophy

the soul which is the possessor of them.

That is very singular, he replied. {189}

[Sidenote: and also, (3), by the ordinary goods of life.]

*491C* Then there are all the ordinary goods of life--beauty, wealth,

strength, rank, and great connections in the State--you understand the

sort of things--these also have a corrupting and distracting effect.

I understand; but I should like to know more precisely what you mean about

them.

Grasp the truth as a whole, I said, and in the right way; you will then

have no difficulty in apprehending the preceding remarks, and they will no

longer appear strange to you.

And how am I to do so? he asked.

*491D* Why, I said, we know that all germs or seeds, whether vegetable or

animal, when they fail to meet with proper nutriment or climate or soil,

in proportion to their vigour, are all the more sensitive to the want of a

suitable environment, for evil is a greater enemy to what is good than to

what is not.

Very true.

[Sidenote: (4) The finer natures more liable to injury than the inferior.]

There is reason in supposing that the finest natures, when under alien

conditions, receive more injury than the inferior, because the contrast is

greater.

Certainly.

*491E* And may we not say, Adeimantus, that the most gifted minds, when

they are ill-educated, become pre-eminently bad? Do not great crimes and

the spirit of pure evil spring out of a fulness of nature ruined by

education rather than from any inferiority, whereas weak natures are

scarcely capable of any very great good or very great evil?

There I think that you are right.

[Sidenote: (5) They are not corrupted by private sophists, but compelled

by the opinion of the world meeting in the assembly or in some other place

of resort.]

*492A* And our philosopher follows the same analogy--he is like a plant

which, having proper nurture, must necessarily grow and mature into all

virtue, but, if sown and planted in an alien soil, becomes the most

noxious of all weeds, unless he be preserved by some divine power. Do you

really think, as people so often say, that our youth are corrupted by

Sophists, or that private teachers of the art corrupt them in any degree

worth speaking of? Are not the public who say these things *492B* the

greatest of all Sophists? And do they not educate to perfection young and

old, men and women alike, and fashion them after their own hearts?

When is this accomplished? he said. {190}

When they meet together, and the world sits down at an assembly, or in a

court of law, or a theatre, or a camp, or in any other popular resort, and

there is a great uproar, and they praise some things which are being said

or done, and blame other things, equally exaggerating both, shouting and

*492C* clapping their hands, and the echo of the rocks and the place in

which they are assembled redoubles the sound of the praise or blame--at

such a time will not a young man's heart, as they say, leap within him?

Will any private training enable him to stand firm against the

overwhelming flood of popular opinion? or will he be carried away by the

stream? Will he not have the notions of good and evil which the public in

general have--he will do as they do, and as they are, such will he be?

*492D* Yes, Socrates; necessity will compel him.

[Sidenote: (6) The other compulsion of violence and death.]

And yet, I said, there is a still greater necessity, which has not been

mentioned.

What is that?

The gentle force of attainder or confiscation or death, which, as you are

aware, these new Sophists and educators, who are the public, apply when

their words are powerless.

Indeed they do; and in right good earnest.

Now what opinion of any other Sophist, or of any private person, can be

expected to overcome in such an unequal contest?

*492E* None, he replied.

[Sidenote: They must be saved, if at all, by the power of God.]

No, indeed, I said, even to make the attempt is a great piece of folly;

there neither is, nor has been, nor is ever likely to be, any different

type of character which has had no other training in virtue but that which

is supplied by public opinion[2]--I speak, my friend, of human virtue

only; what is more than human, as the proverb says, is not included:

for I would not have you ignorant that, in the present evil state of

governments, whatever is saved and comes to good is *493A* saved by the

power of God, as we may truly say.

[Footnote 2: Or, taking [Greek: para\] in another sense, 'trained to

virtue on their principles.']

I quite assent, he replied.

Then let me crave your assent also to a further observation.

What are you going to say?

[Sidenote: The great brute; his behaviour and temper (the people looked at

from their worse side).]

Why, that all those mercenary individuals, whom the many {191} call

Sophists and whom they deem to be their adversaries, do, in fact, teach

nothing but the opinion of the many, that is to say, the opinions of their

assemblies; and this is their wisdom. I might compare them to a man who

should study the tempers and desires of a mighty strong beast who is fed

*493B* by him--he would learn how to approach and handle him, also at what

times and from what causes he is dangerous or the reverse, and what is the

meaning of his several cries, and by what sounds, when another utters

them, he is soothed or infuriated; and you may suppose further, that when,

by continually attending upon him, he has become perfect in all this, he

calls his knowledge wisdom, and makes of it a system or art, which he

proceeds to teach, although he has no real notion of what he means by the

principles or passions of which he is speaking, but calls this honourable

and that dishonourable, or good or evil, or just or unjust, all in

accordance *493C* with the tastes and tempers of the great brute. Good he

pronounces to be that in which the beast delights and evil to be that

which he dislikes; and he can give no other account of them except that

the just and noble are the necessary, having never himself seen, and

having no power of explaining to others the nature of either, or the

difference between them, which is immense. By heaven, would not such an

one be a rare educator?

Indeed he would.

[Sidenote: He who associates with the people will conform to their tastes

and will produce only what pleases them.]

And in what way does he who thinks that wisdom is *493D* the discernment

of the tempers and tastes of the motley multitude, whether in painting or

music, or, finally, in politics, differ from him whom I have been

describing? For when a man consorts with the many, and exhibits to them

his poem or other work of art or the service which he has done the State,

making them his judges[3] when he is not obliged, the so-called necessity

of Diomede will oblige him to produce whatever they praise. And yet the

reasons are utterly ludicrous which they give in confirmation of their own

notions about the honourable and good. Did you ever hear any of them which

were not?

[Footnote 3: Putting a comma after [Greek: tô=n a)nangkai/ôn].]

*493E* No, nor am I likely to hear.

You recognise the truth of what I have been saying? Then {192} let me ask

you to consider further whether the world will ever be induced to believe

in the existence of absolute *494A* beauty rather than of the many

beautiful, or of the absolute in each kind rather than of the many in each

kind?

Certainly not.

Then the world cannot possibly be a philosopher?

Impossible.

And therefore philosophers must inevitably fall under the censure of the

world?

They must.

And of individuals who consort with the mob and seek to please them?

That is evident.

Then, do you see any way in which the philosopher can *494B* be preserved

in his calling to the end? and remember what we were saying of him, that

he was to have quickness and memory and courage and magnificence--these

were admitted by us to be the true philosopher's gifts.

Yes.

[Sidenote: The youth who has great bodily and mental gifts will be

flattered from his childhood,]

Will not such an one from his early childhood be in all things first among

all, especially if his bodily endowments are like his mental ones?

Certainly, he said.

And his friends and fellow-citizens will want to use him as he gets older

for their own purposes?

No question.

*494C* Falling at his feet, they will make requests to him and do him

honour and flatter him, because they want to get into their hands now, the

power which he will one day possess.

That often happens, he said.

And what will a man such as he is be likely to do under such

circumstances, especially if he be a citizen of a great city, rich and

noble, and a tall proper youth? Will he not be full of boundless

aspirations, and fancy himself able to manage the affairs of Hellenes and

of barbarians, and having got such *494D* notions into his head will he

not dilate and elevate himself in the fulness of vain pomp and senseless

pride?

To be sure he will.

[Sidenote: and being incapable of having reason, will be easily drawn away

from philosophy.]

Now, when he is in this state of mind, if some one gently comes to him and

tells him that he is a fool and must get {193} understanding, which can

only be got by slaving for it, do you think that, under such adverse

circumstances, he will be easily induced to listen?

Far otherwise.

And even if there be some one who through inherent *494E* goodness or

natural reasonableness has had his eyes opened a little and is humbled and

taken captive by philosophy, how will his friends behave when they think

that they are likely to lose the advantage which they were hoping to reap

from his companionship? Will they not do and say anything to prevent him

from yielding to his better nature and to render his teacher powerless,

using to this end private intrigues as well as public prosecutions?

*495A* There can be no doubt of it.

And how can one who is thus circumstanced ever become a philosopher?

Impossible.

[Sidenote: The very qualities which make a man a philosopher may also

divert him from philosophy.]

Then were we not right in saying that even the very qualities which make a

man a philosopher may, if he be ill-educated, divert him from philosophy,

no less than riches and their accompaniments and the other so-called goods

of life?

We were quite right.

[Sidenote: Great natures alone are capable, either of great good, or great

evil.]

Thus, my excellent friend, is brought about all that ruin and *495B*

failure which I have been describing of the natures best adapted to the

best of all pursuits; they are natures which we maintain to be rare at any

time; this being the class out of which come the men who are the authors

of the greatest evil to States and individuals; and also of the greatest

good when the tide carries them in that direction; but a small man never

was the doer of any great thing either to individuals or to States.

That is most true, he said.

And so philosophy is left desolate, with her marriage rite *495C*

incomplete: for her own have fallen away and forsaken her, and while they

are leading a false and unbecoming life, other unworthy persons, seeing

that she has no kinsmen to be her protectors, enter in and dishonour her;

and fasten upon her the reproaches which, as you say, her reprovers utter,

who affirm of her votaries that some are good for nothing, and that the

greater number deserve the severest punishment. {194}

That is certainly what people say.

[Sidenote: The attractiveness of philosophy to the vulgar.]

Yes; and what else would you expect, I said, when you think of the puny

creatures who, seeing this land open to *495D* them--a land well stocked

with fair names and showy titles--like prisoners running out of prison

into a sanctuary, take a leap out of their trades into philosophy; those

who do so being probably the cleverest hands at their own miserable

crafts? For, although philosophy be in this evil case, still there remains

a dignity about her which is not to be found in the arts. And many are

thus attracted by her whose *495E* natures are imperfect and whose souls

are maimed and disfigured by their meannesses, as their bodies are by

their trades and crafts. Is not this unavoidable?

Yes.

Are they not exactly like a bald little tinker who has just got out of

durance and come into a fortune; he takes a bath and puts on a new coat,

and is decked out as a bridegroom going to marry his master's daughter,

who is left poor and desolate?

*496A* A most exact parallel.

What will be the issue of such marriages? Will they not be vile and

bastard?

There can be no question of it.

[Sidenote: The _mésalliance_ of philosophy.]

And when persons who are unworthy of education approach philosophy and

make an alliance with her who is in a rank above them what sort of ideas

and opinions are likely to be generated? [4]Will they not be sophisms

captivating to the ear, having nothing in them genuine, or worthy of or

akin to true wisdom?

[Footnote 4: Or, 'will they not deserve to be called sophisms,' ....]

No doubt, he said.

[Sidenote: Few are the worthy disciples:]

[Sidenote: and these are unable to resist the madness of the world;]

[Sidenote: they therefore in order to escape the storm take shelter behind

a wall and live their own life.]

Then, Adeimantus, I said, the worthy disciples of philosophy *496B* will

be but a small remnant: perchance some noble and well-educated person,

detained by exile in her service, who in the absence of corrupting

influences remains devoted to her; or some lofty soul born in a mean city,

the politics of which he contemns and neglects; and there may be a gifted

few who leave the arts, which they justly despise, and come to her;--or

peradventure there are some who are restrained *496C* by our friend

Theages' bridle; for everything in the life of Theages {195} conspired to

divert him from philosophy; but ill-health kept him away from politics. My

own case of the internal sign is hardly worth mentioning, for rarely, if

ever, has such a monitor been given to any other man. Those who belong to

this small class have tasted how sweet and blessed a possession philosophy

is, and have also seen enough of the madness of the multitude; and they

know *496D* that no politician is honest, nor is there any champion of

justice at whose side they may fight and be saved. Such an one may be

compared to a man who has fallen among wild beasts--he will not join in

the wickedness of his fellows, but neither is he able singly to resist all

their fierce natures, and therefore seeing that he would be of no use to

the State or to his friends, and reflecting that he would have to throw

away his life without doing any good either to himself or others, he holds

his peace, and goes his own way. He is like one who, in the storm of dust

and sleet which the driving wind hurries along, retires under the shelter

of a wall; and seeing the rest of mankind full of wickedness, he is

content, *496E* if only he can live his own life and be pure from evil or

unrighteousness, and depart in peace and good-will, with bright hopes.

Yes, he said, and he will have done a great work before he departs.

A great work--yes; but not the greatest, unless he find *497A* a State

suitable to him; for in a State which is suitable to him, he will have a

larger growth and be the saviour of his country, as well as of himself.

The causes why philosophy is in such an evil name have now been

sufficiently explained: the injustice of the charges against her has been

shown--is there anything more which you wish to say?

Nothing more on that subject, he replied; but I should like to know which

of the governments now existing is in your opinion the one adapted to her.

[Sidenote: No existing State suited to philosophy.]

*497B* Not any of them, I said; and that is precisely the accusation which

I bring against them--not one of them is worthy of the philosophic nature,

and hence that nature is warped and estranged;--as the exotic seed which

is sown in a foreign land becomes denaturalized, and is wont to be

overpowered and to lose itself in the new soil, even so this growth {196}

of philosophy, instead of persisting, degenerates and receives another

character. But if philosophy ever finds in the State *497C* that

perfection which she herself is, then will be seen that she is in truth

divine, and that all other things, whether natures of men or institutions,

are but human;--and now, I know, that you are going to ask, What that

State is:

No, he said; there you are wrong, for I was going to ask another

question--whether it is the State of which we are the founders and

inventors, or some other?

[Sidenote: Even our own State requires the addition of the living

authority.]

Yes, I replied, ours in most respects; but you may remember my saying

before, that some living authority would always be required in the State

having the same idea of *497D* the constitution which guided you when as

legislator you were laying down the laws.

That was said, he replied.

Yes, but not in a satisfactory manner; you frightened us by interposing

objections, which certainly showed that the discussion would be long and

difficult; and what still remains is the reverse of easy.

What is there remaining?

The question how the study of philosophy may be so ordered as not to be

the ruin of the State: All great attempts are attended with risk; 'hard is

the good,' as men say.

*497E* Still, he said, let the point be cleared up, and the enquiry will

then be complete.

I shall not be hindered, I said, by any want of will, but, if at all, by a

want of power: my zeal you may see for yourselves; and please to remark in

what I am about to say how boldly and unhesitatingly I declare that States

should pursue philosophy, not as they do now, but in a different spirit.

In what manner?

[Sidenote: The superficial study of philosophy which exists in the present

day.]

*498A* At present, I said, the students of philosophy are quite young;

beginning when they are hardly past childhood, they devote only the time

saved from moneymaking and housekeeping to such pursuits; and even those

of them who are reputed to have most of the philosophic spirit, when they

come within sight of the great difficulty of the subject, I mean

dialectic, take themselves off. In after life when invited by some one

else, they may, perhaps, go and hear a lecture, and about this they make

much ado, for philosophy is not considered {197} by them to be their

proper business: at last, when they grow old, in most cases they are

extinguished more *498B* truly than Heracleitus' sun, inasmuch as they

never light up again[5].

[Footnote 5: Heraclitus said that the sun was extinguished every evening

and relighted every morning.]

But what ought to be their course?

Just the opposite. In childhood and youth their study, and what philosophy

they learn, should be suited to their tender years: during this period

while they are growing up towards manhood, the chief and special care

should be given to their bodies that they may have them to use in the

service of philosophy; as life advances and the intellect begins to

mature, let them increase the gymnastics of the soul; but when the

strength of our citizens fails and is past civil and *498C* military

duties, then let them range at will and engage in no serious labour, as we

intend them to live happily here, and to crown this life with a similar

happiness in another.

[Sidenote: Thrasymachus once more.]

How truly in earnest you are, Socrates! he said; I am sure of that; and

yet most of your hearers, if I am not mistaken, are likely to be still

more earnest in their opposition to you, and will never be convinced;

Thrasymachus least of all.

Do not make a quarrel, I said, between Thrasymachus and *498D* me, who

have recently become friends, although, indeed, we were never enemies; for

I shall go on striving to the utmost until I either convert him and other

men, or do something which may profit them against the day when they live

again, and hold the like discourse in another state of existence.

You are speaking of a time which is not very near.

[Sidenote: The people hate philosophy because they have only known bad and

conventional imitations of it.]

Rather, I replied, of a time which is as nothing in comparison with

eternity. Nevertheless, I do not wonder that the many refuse to believe;

for they have never seen that of which we are now speaking realized; they

have seen only *498E* a conventional imitation of philosophy, consisting

of words artificially brought together, not like these of ours having a

natural unity. But a human being who in word and work is perfectly

moulded, as far as he can be, into the proportion and likeness of

virtue--such a man ruling in a city which *499A* bears the same image,

they have never yet seen, neither one nor many of them--do you think that

they ever did? {198}

No indeed.

No, my friend, and they have seldom, if ever, heard free and noble

sentiments; such as men utter when they are earnestly and by every means

in their power seeking after truth for the sake of knowledge, while they

look coldly on the subtleties of controversy, of which the end is opinion

and strife, whether they meet with them in the courts of law or in

society.

They are strangers, he said, to the words of which you speak.

And this was what we foresaw, and this was the reason *499B* why truth

forced us to admit, not without fear and hesitation, that neither cities

nor States nor individuals will ever attain perfection until the small

class of philosophers whom we termed useless but not corrupt are

providentially compelled, whether they will or not, to take care of the

State, and until a like necessity be laid on the State to obey them[6]; or

until kings, or if not kings, the sons of kings or princes, are divinely

*499C* inspired with a true love of true philosophy. That either or both

of these alternatives are impossible, I see no reason to affirm: if they

were so, we might indeed be justly ridiculed as dreamers and visionaries.

Am I not right?

[Footnote 6: Reading [Greek: katêko/ô|] or [Greek: katêko/ois].]

Quite right.

[Sidenote: Somewhere, at some time, there may have been or may be a

philosopher who is also the ruler of a State.]

If then, in the countless ages of the past, or at the present hour in some

foreign clime which is far away and beyond *499D* our ken, the perfected

philosopher is or has been or hereafter shall be compelled by a superior

power to have the charge of the State, we are ready to assert to the

death, that this our constitution has been, and is--yea, and will be

whenever the Muse of Philosophy is queen. There is no impossibility in all

this; that there is a difficulty, we acknowledge ourselves.

My opinion agrees with yours, he said.

But do you mean to say that this is not the opinion of the multitude?

I should imagine not, he replied.

O my friend, I said, do not attack the multitude: they will *499E* change

their minds, if, not in an aggressive spirit, but gently {199} and with

the view of soothing them and removing their dislike of over-education,

you show them your philosophers as they really are and describe as you

were just now doing *500A* their character and profession, and then

mankind will see that he of whom you are speaking is not such as they

supposed--if they view him in this new light, they will surely change

their notion of him, and answer in another strain[7]. Who can be at enmity

with one who loves them, who that is himself gentle and free from envy

will be jealous of one in whom there is no jealousy? Nay, let me answer

for you, that in a few this harsh temper may be found but not in the

majority of mankind.

[Footnote 7: Reading [Greek: ê)= kai\ e)a\n ou(/tô theô=ntai] without a

question, and [Greek: a)lloi/an toi]: or, retaining the question and

taking [Greek: a)lloi/an do/xan] in a new sense: 'Do you mean to say

really that, viewing him in this light, they will be of another mind from

yours, and answer in another strain?']

I quite agree with you, he said.

[Sidenote: The feeling against philosophy is really a feeling against

pretended philosophers who are always talking about persons.]

*500B* And do you not also think, as I do, that the harsh feeling which

the many entertain towards philosophy originates in the pretenders, who

rush in uninvited, and are always abusing them, and finding fault with

them, who make persons instead of things the theme of their conversation?

and nothing can be more unbecoming in philosophers than this.

It is most unbecoming.

[Sidenote: The true philosopher, who has his eye fixed upon immutable

principles, will fashion States after the heavenly image.]

For he, Adeimantus, whose mind is fixed upon true being, has surely no

time to look down upon the affairs of earth, or *500C* to be filled with

malice and envy, contending against men; his eye is ever directed towards

things fixed and immutable, which he sees neither injuring nor injured by

one another, but all in order moving according to reason; these he

imitates, and to these he will, as far as he can, conform himself. Can a

man help imitating that with which he holds reverential converse?

Impossible.

And the philosopher holding converse with the divine order, becomes

orderly and divine, as far as the nature of *500D* man allows; but like

every one else, he will suffer from detraction.

Of course. {200}

And if a necessity be laid upon him of fashioning, not only himself, but

human nature generally, whether in States or individuals, into that which

he beholds elsewhere, will he, think you, be an unskilful artificer of

justice, temperance, and every civil virtue?

Anything but unskilful.

And if the world perceives that what we are saying about *500E* him is the

truth, will they be angry with philosophy? Will they disbelieve us, when

we tell them that no State can be happy which is not designed by artists

who imitate the heavenly pattern?

They will not be angry if they understand, he said. But *501A* how will

they draw out the plan of which you are speaking?

[Sidenote: He will begin with a 'tabula rasa' and there inscribe his

laws.]

They will begin by taking the State and the manners of men, from which, as

from a tablet, they will rub out the picture, and leave a clean surface.

This is no easy task. But whether easy or not, herein will lie the

difference between them and every other legislator,--they will have

nothing to do either with individual or State, and will inscribe no laws,

until they have either found, or themselves made, a clean surface.

They will be very right, he said.

Having effected this, they will proceed to trace an outline of the

constitution?

No doubt.

*501B* And when they are filling in the work, as I conceive, they will

often turn their eyes upwards and downwards: I mean that they will first

look at absolute justice and beauty and temperance, and again at the human

copy; and will mingle and temper the various elements of life into the

image of a man; and this they will conceive according to that other image,

which, when existing among men, Homer calls the form and likeness of God.

Very true, he said.

And one feature they will erase, and another they will put *501C* in,

until they have made the ways of men, as far as possible, agreeable to the

ways of God?

Indeed, he said, in no way could they make a fairer picture.

[Sidenote: The enemies of philosophy, when they hear the truth, are

gradually propitiated,]

And now, I said, are we beginning to persuade those whom {201} you

described as rushing at us with might and main, that the painter of

constitutions is such an one as we are praising; at whom they were so very

indignant because to his hands we committed the State; and are they

growing a little calmer at what they have just heard?

Much calmer, if there is any sense in them.

*501D* Why, where can they still find any ground for objection? Will they

doubt that the philosopher is a lover of truth and being?

They would not be so unreasonable.

Or that his nature, being such as we have delineated, is akin to the

highest good?

Neither can they doubt this.

But again, will they tell us that such a nature, placed under favourable

circumstances, will not be perfectly good and wise if any ever was? Or

will they prefer those whom we have rejected?

*501E* Surely not.

Then will they still be angry at our saying, that, until philosophers bear

rule, States and individuals will have no rest from evil, nor will this

our imaginary State ever be realized?

I think that they will be less angry.

[Sidenote: and at length become quite gentle.]

Shall we assume that they are not only less angry but *502A* quite gentle,

and that they have been converted and for very shame, if for no other

reason, cannot refuse to come to terms?

By all means, he said.

[Sidenote: There may have been one son of a king a philosopher who has

remained uncorrupted and has a State obedient to his will.]

Then let us suppose that the reconciliation has been effected. Will any

one deny the other point, that there may be sons of kings or princes who

are by nature philosophers?

Surely no man, he said.

And when they have come into being will any one say that they must of

necessity be destroyed; that they can hardly *502B* be saved is not denied

even by us; but that in the whole course of ages no single one of them can

escape--who will venture to affirm this?

Who indeed!

But, said I, one is enough; let there be one man who has a city obedient

to his will, and he might bring into existence the ideal polity about

which the world is so incredulous.

Yes, one is enough. {202}

The ruler may impose the laws and institutions which we have been

describing, and the citizens may possibly be willing to obey them?

Certainly.

And that others should approve, of what we approve, is no miracle or

impossibility?

*502C* I think not.

But we have sufficiently shown, in what has preceded, that all this, if

only possible, is assuredly for the best.

We have.

[Sidenote: Our constitution then is not unattainable.]

And now we say not only that our laws, if they could be enacted, would be

for the best, but also that the enactment of them, though difficult, is

not impossible.

Very good.

And so with pain and toil we have reached the end of one subject, but more

remains to be discussed;--how and by *502D* what studies and pursuits will

the saviours of the constitution be created, and at what ages are they to

apply themselves to their several studies?

Certainly.

[Sidenote: Recapitulation.]

I omitted the troublesome business of the possession of women, and the

procreation of children, and the appointment of the rulers, because I knew

that the perfect State would be eyed with jealousy and was difficult of

attainment; but that piece of cleverness was not of much service to me,

*502E* for I had to discuss them all the same. The women and children are

now disposed of, but the other question of the rulers must be investigated

from the very beginning. We were saying, as you will remember, that they

were to be lovers *503A* of their country, tried by the test of pleasures

and pains, and neither in hardships, nor in dangers, nor at any other

critical moment were to lose their patriotism--he was to be rejected who

failed, but he who always came forth pure, like gold tried in the

refiner's fire, was to be made a ruler, and to receive honours and rewards

in life and after death. This was the sort of thing which was being said,

and then the argument turned aside and veiled her face; not liking to

*503B* stir the question which has now arisen.

I perfectly remember, he said.

[Sidenote: The guardian must be a philosopher, and a philosopher must be a

person of rare gifts]

Yes, my friend, I said, and I then shrank from hazarding {203} the bold

word; but now let me dare to say--that the perfect guardian must be a

philosopher.

Yes, he said, let that be affirmed.

And do not suppose that there will be many of them; for the gifts which

were deemed by us to be essential rarely grow together; they are mostly

found in shreds and patches.

*503C* What do you mean? he said.

[Sidenote: The contrast of the quick and solid temperaments.]

You are aware, I replied, that quick intelligence, memory, sagacity,

cleverness, and similar qualities, do not often grow together, and that

persons who possess them and are at the same time high-spirited and

magnanimous are not so constituted by nature as to live orderly and in a

peaceful and settled manner; they are driven any way by their impulses,

and all solid principle goes out of them.

Very true, he said.

On the other hand, those steadfast natures which can *503D* better be

depended upon, which in a battle are impregnable to fear and immovable,

are equally immovable when there is anything to be learned; they are

always in a torpid state, and are apt to yawn and go to sleep over any

intellectual toil.

Quite true.

[Sidenote: They must be united.]

And yet we were saying that both qualities were necessary in those to whom

the higher education is to be imparted, and who are to share in any office

or command.

Certainly, he said.

And will they be a class which is rarely found?

Yes, indeed.

[Sidenote: He who is to hold command must be tested in many kinds of

knowledge.]

*503E* Then the aspirant must not only be tested in those labours and

dangers and pleasures which we mentioned before, but there is another kind

of probation which we did not mention--he must be exercised also in many

kinds of knowledge, to see whether the soul will be able to endure the

highest of all, *504A* or will faint under them, as in any other studies

and exercises.

Yes, he said, you are quite right in testing him. But what do you mean by

the highest of all knowledge?

You may remember, I said, that we divided the soul into three parts; and

distinguished the several natures of justice, temperance, courage, and

wisdom?

Indeed, he said, if I had forgotten, I should not deserve to hear more.

{204}

And do you remember the word of caution which preceded the discussion of

them[8]?

[Footnote 8: Cp. IV. 435 D.]

To what do you refer?

[Sidenote: The shorter exposition of education, which has been already

given, inadequate.]

*504B* We were saying, if I am not mistaken, that he who wanted to see

them in their perfect beauty must take a longer and more circuitous way,

at the end of which they would appear; but that we could add on a popular

exposition of them on a level with the discussion which had preceded. And

you replied that such an exposition would be enough for you, and so the

enquiry was continued in what to me seemed to be a very inaccurate manner;

whether you were satisfied or not, it is for you to say.

Yes, he said, I thought and the others thought that you gave us a fair

measure of truth.

*504C* But, my friend, I said, a measure of such things which in any

degree falls short of the whole truth is not fair measure; for nothing

imperfect is the measure of anything, although persons are too apt to be

contented and think that they need search no further.

Not an uncommon case when people are indolent.

Yes, I said; and there cannot be any worse fault in a guardian of the

State and of the laws.

True.

[Sidenote: The guardian must take the longer road of the higher learning,]

The guardian then, I said, must be required to take the *504D* longer

circuit, and toil at learning as well as at gymnastics, or he will never

reach the highest knowledge of all which, as we were just now saying, is

his proper calling.

What, he said, is there a knowledge still higher than this--higher than

justice and the other virtues?

Yes, I said, there is. And of the virtues too we must behold not the

outline merely, as at present--nothing short of the most finished picture

should satisfy us. When little *504E* things are elaborated with an

infinity of pains, in order that they may appear in their full beauty and

utmost clearness, how ridiculous that we should not think the highest

truths worthy of attaining the highest accuracy!

A right noble thought[9]; but do you suppose that we {205} shall refrain

from asking you what is this highest knowledge?

[Footnote 9: Or, separating [Greek: kai\ ma/la] from [Greek: a)/xion],

'True, he said, and a noble thought': or [Greek: a)/xion to\ diano/êma]

may be a gloss.]

[Sidenote: which leads upwards at last to the idea of good.]

Nay, I said, ask if you will; but I am certain that you have heard the

answer many times, and now you either do not understand me or, as I rather

think, you are disposed to be *505A* troublesome; for you have often been

told that the idea of good is the highest knowledge, and that all other

things become useful and advantageous only by their use of this. You can

hardly be ignorant that of this I was about to speak, concerning which, as

you have often heard me say, we know so little; and, without which, any

other knowledge *505B* or possession of any kind will profit us nothing.

Do you think that the possession of all other things is of any value if we

do not possess the good? or the knowledge of all other things if we have

no knowledge of beauty and goodness?

Assuredly not.

[Sidenote: But what is the good? Some say pleasure, others knowledge,

which they absurdly explain to mean knowledge of the good.]

You are further aware that most people affirm pleasure to be the good, but

the finer sort of wits say it is knowledge?

Yes.

And you are aware too that the latter cannot explain what they mean by

knowledge, but are obliged after all to say knowledge of the good?

How ridiculous!

*505C* Yes, I said, that they should begin by reproaching us with our

ignorance of the good, and then presume our knowledge of it--for the good

they define to be knowledge of the good, just as if we understood them

when they use the term 'good'--this is of course ridiculous.

Most true, he said.

And those who make pleasure their good are in equal perplexity; for they

are compelled to admit that there are bad pleasures as well as good.

Certainly.

And therefore to acknowledge that bad and good are the same?

*505D* True.

There can be no doubt about the numerous difficulties in which this

question is involved.

There can be none.

Further, do we not see that many are willing to do or to {206} have or to

seem to be what is just and honourable without the reality; but no one is

satisfied with the appearance of good--the reality is what they seek; in

the case of the good, appearance is despised by every one.

Very true, he said.

[Sidenote: Every man pursues the good, but without knowing the nature of

it.]

Of this then, which every soul of man pursues and makes *505E* the end of

all his actions, having a presentiment that there is such an end, and yet

hesitating because neither knowing *506A* the nature nor having the same

assurance of this as of other things, and therefore losing whatever good

there is in other things,--of a principle such and so great as this ought

the best men in our State, to whom everything is entrusted, to be in the

darkness of ignorance?

Certainly not, he said.

I am sure, I said, that he who does not know how the beautiful and the

just are likewise good will be but a sorry guardian of them; and I suspect

that no one who is ignorant of the good will have a true knowledge of

them.

That, he said, is a shrewd suspicion of yours.

*506B* And if we only have a guardian who has this knowledge our State

will be perfectly ordered?

[Sidenote: The guardian ought to know these things.]

Of course, he replied; but I wish that you would tell me whether you

conceive this supreme principle of the good to be knowledge or pleasure,

or different from either?

Aye, I said, I knew all along that a fastidious gentleman[10] like you

would not be contented with the thoughts of other people about these

matters.

[Footnote 10: Reading [Greek: a)nê\r kalo/s]: or reading [Greek: a)nê\r

kalô=s], 'I quite well knew from the very first, that you, &c.']

True, Socrates; but I must say that one who like you has passed a lifetime

in the study of philosophy should not be *506C* always repeating the

opinions of others, and never telling his own.

Well, but has any one a right to say positively what he does not know?

Not, he said, with the assurance of positive certainty; he has no right to

do that: but he may say what he thinks, as a matter of opinion.

And do you not know, I said, that all mere opinions are bad, and the best

of them blind? You would not deny that {207} those who have any true

notion without intelligence are only like blind men who feel their way

along the road?

Very true.

And do you wish to behold what is blind and crooked and *506D* base, when

others will tell you of brightness and beauty?

[Sidenote: Socrates, Glaucon.]

Still, I must implore you, Socrates, said Glaucon, not to turn away just

as you are reaching the goal; if you will only give such an explanation of

the good as you have already given of justice and temperance and the other

virtues, we shall be satisfied.

[Sidenote: We can only attain to the things of mind through the things of

sense. The 'child' of the good.]

Yes, my friend, and I shall be at least equally satisfied, but I cannot

help fearing that I shall fail, and that my indiscreet zeal will bring

ridicule upon me. No, sweet sirs, let us not *506E* at present ask what is

the actual nature of the good, for to reach what is now in my thoughts

would be an effort too great for me. But of the child of the good who is

likest him, I would fain speak, if I could be sure that you wished to

hear--otherwise, not.

By all means, he said, tell us about the child, and you shall remain in

our debt for the account of the parent.

*507A* I do indeed wish, I replied, that I could pay, and you receive, the

account of the parent, and not, as now, of the offspring only; take,

however, this latter by way of interest[11], and at the same time have a

care that I do not render a false account, although I have no intention of

deceiving you.

[Footnote: 11: A play upon [Greek: to/kos], which means both 'offspring'

and 'interest.']

Yes, we will take all the care that we can: proceed.

Yes, I said, but I must first come to an understanding with you, and

remind you of what I have mentioned in the course of this discussion, and

at many other times.

*507B* What?

The old story, that there is a many beautiful and a many good, and so of

other things which we describe and define; to all of them the term 'many'

is applied.

True, he said.

And there is an absolute beauty and an absolute good, and of other things

to which the term 'many' is applied there is an absolute; for they may be

brought under a single idea, which is called the essence of each.

Very true. {208}

The many, as we say, are seen but not known, and the ideas are known but

not seen.

Exactly.

*507C* And what is the organ with which we see the visible things?

The sight, he said.

And with the hearing, I said, we hear, and with the other senses perceive

the other objects of sense?

True.

[Sidenote: Sight the most complex of the senses,]

But have you remarked that sight is by far the most costly and complex

piece of workmanship which the artificer of the senses ever contrived?

No, I never have, he said.

Then reflect; has the ear or voice need of any third or *507D* additional

nature in order that the one may be able to hear and the other to be

heard?

Nothing of the sort.

No, indeed, I replied; and the same is true of most, if not all, the other

senses--you would not say that any of them requires such an addition?

Certainly not.

But you see that without the addition of some other nature there is no

seeing or being seen?

How do you mean?

[Sidenote: and, unlike the other senses, requires the addition of a third

nature before it can be used. This third nature is light.]

Sight being, as I conceive, in the eyes, and he who has eyes wanting to

see; colour being also present in them, still *507E* unless there be a

third nature specially adapted to the purpose, the owner of the eyes will

see nothing and the colours will be invisible.

Of what nature are you speaking?

Of that which you term light, I replied.

True, he said.

*508A* Noble, then, is the bond which links together sight and visibility,

and great beyond other bonds by no small difference of nature; for light

is their bond, and light is no ignoble thing?

Nay, he said, the reverse of ignoble.

And which, I said, of the gods in heaven would you say was the lord of

this element? Whose is that light which makes the eye to see perfectly and

the visible to appear? {209}

You mean the sun, as you and all mankind say.

May not the relation of sight to this deity be described as follows?

How?

*508B* Neither sight nor the eye in which sight resides is the sun?

No.

[Sidenote: The eye like the sun, but not the same with it.]

Yet of all the organs of sense the eye is the most like the sun?

By far the most like.

And the power which the eye possesses is a sort of effluence which is

dispensed from the sun?

Exactly.

Then the sun is not sight, but the author of sight who is recognised by

sight?

True, he said.

And this is he whom I call the child of the good, whom the good begat in

his own likeness, to be in the visible world, in *508C* relation to sight

and the things of sight, what the good is in the intellectual world in

relation to mind and the things of mind:

Will you be a little more explicit? he said.

Why, you know, I said, that the eyes, when a person directs them towards

objects on which the light of day is no longer shining, but the moon and

stars only, see dimly, and are nearly blind; they seem to have no

clearness of vision in them?

Very true.

[Sidenote: Visible objects are to be seen only when the sun shines upon

them; truth is only known when illuminated by the idea of good.]

*508D* But when they are directed towards objects on which the sun shines,

they see clearly and there is sight in them?

Certainly.

And the soul is like the eye: when resting upon that on which truth and

being shine, the soul perceives and understands, and is radiant with

intelligence; but when turned towards the twilight of becoming and

perishing, then she has opinion only, and goes blinking about, and is

first of one opinion and then of another, and seems to have no

intelligence?

Just so.

[Sidenote: The idea of good higher than science or truth (the objective

than the subjective).]

*508E* Now, that which imparts truth to the known and the power of knowing

to the knower is what I would have you term the {210} idea of good, and

this you will deem to be the cause of science[12], and of truth in so far

as the latter becomes the subject of knowledge; beautiful too, as are both

truth and knowledge, you will be right in esteeming this other nature

*509A* as more beautiful than either; and, as in the previous instance,

light and sight may be truly said to be like the sun, and yet not to be

the sun, so in this other sphere, science and truth may be deemed to be

like the good, but not the good; the good has a place of honour yet

higher.

[Footnote 12: Reading [Greek: dianoou=].]

What a wonder of beauty that must be, he said, which is the author of

science and truth, and yet surpasses them in beauty; for you surely cannot

mean to say that pleasure is the good?

God forbid, I replied; but may I ask you to consider the image in another

point of view?

*509B* In what point of view?

You would say, would you not, that the sun is not only the author of

visibility in all visible things, but of generation and nourishment and

growth, though he himself is not generation?

Certainly.

[Sidenote: As the sun is the cause of generation, so the good is the cause

of being and essence.]

In like manner the good may be said to be not only the author of knowledge

to all things known, but of their being and essence, and yet the good is

not essence, but far exceeds essence in dignity and power.

*509C* Glaucon said, with a ludicrous earnestness: By the light of heaven,

how amazing!

Yes, I said, and the exaggeration may be set down to you; for you made me

utter my fancies.

And pray continue to utter them; at any rate let us hear if there is

anything more to be said about the similitude of the sun.

Yes, I said, there is a great deal more.

Then omit nothing, however slight.

I will do my best, I said; but I should think that a great deal will have

to be omitted.

I hope not, he said.

*509D* You have to imagine, then, that there are two ruling {211} powers,

and that one of them is set over the intellectual world, the other over

the visible. I do not say heaven, lest you should fancy that I am playing

upon the name ([Greek: ou)rano/s, o(rato/s]). May I suppose that you have

this distinction of the visible and intelligible fixed in your mind?

I have.

[Sidenote: The two spheres of sight and knowledge are represented by a

line which is divided into two unequal parts.]

Now take a line which has been cut into two unequal[13] parts, and divide

each of them again in the same proportion, and suppose the two main

divisions to answer, one to the visible and the other to the intelligible,

and then compare the subdivisions in respect of their clearness and want

of *509E* clearness, and you will find that the first section in the

*510A* sphere of the visible consists of images. And by images I mean, in

the first place, shadows, and in the second place, reflections in water

and in solid, smooth and polished bodies and the like: Do you understand?

[Footnote 13: Reading: [Greek: a)/nisa].]

Yes, I understand.

Imagine, now, the other section, of which this is only the resemblance, to

include the animals which we see, and everything that grows or is made.

Very good.

Would you not admit that both the sections of this division have different

degrees of truth, and that the copy is to the original as the sphere of

opinion is to the sphere of knowledge?

*510B* Most undoubtedly.

Next proceed to consider the manner in which the sphere of the

intellectual is to be divided.

In what manner?

[Sidenote: Images and hypotheses.]

Thus:--There are two subdivisions, in the lower of which the soul uses the

figures given by the former division as images; the enquiry can only be

hypothetical, and instead of going upwards to a principle descends to the

other end; in the higher of the two, the soul passes out of hypotheses,

and goes up to a principle which is above hypotheses, making no use of

images[14] as in the former case, but proceeding only in and through the

ideas themselves.

[Footnote 14: Reading [Greek: ô(=nper e)kei=no ei)ko/nôn].]

I do not quite understand your meaning, he said. {212}

[Sidenote: The hypotheses of mathematics.]

*510C* Then I will try again; you will understand me better when I have

made some preliminary remarks. You are aware that students of geometry,

arithmetic, and the kindred sciences assume the odd and the even and the

figures and three kinds of angles and the like in their several branches

of science; these are their hypotheses, which they and every body are

supposed to know, and therefore they do not deign to give any account of

them either to themselves or others; *510D* but they begin with them, and

go on until they arrive at last, and in a consistent manner, at their

conclusion?

Yes, he said, I know.

[Sidenote: In both spheres hypotheses are used, in the lower taking the

form of images, but in the higher the soul ascends above hypotheses to the

idea of good.]

And do you not know also that although they make use of the visible forms

and reason about them, they are thinking not of these, but of the ideals

which they resemble; not of the *510E* figures which they draw, but of the

absolute square and the absolute diameter, and so on--the forms which they

draw or make, and which have shadows and reflections in water of their

own, are converted by them into images, but they are really seeking to

behold the things themselves, which can only be seen with the eye of the

mind?

*511A* That is true.

And of this kind I spoke as the intelligible, although in the search after

it the soul is compelled to use hypotheses; not ascending to a first

principle, because she is unable to rise above the region of hypothesis,

but employing the objects of which the shadows below are resemblances in

their turn as images, they having in relation to the shadows and

reflections of them a greater distinctness, and therefore a higher value.

*511B* I understand, he said, that you are speaking of the province of

geometry and the sister arts.

[Sidenote: Dialectic by the help of hypotheses rises above hypotheses.]

And when I speak of the other division of the intelligible, you will

understand me to speak of that other sort of knowledge which reason

herself attains by the power of dialectic, using the hypotheses not as

first principles, but only as hypotheses--that is to say, as steps and

points of departure into a world which is above hypotheses, in order that

she may soar beyond them to the first principle of the whole; and clinging

to this and then to that which depends on this, by successive steps she

descends again without the aid of {213} *511C* any sensible object, from

ideas, through ideas, and in ideas she ends.

[Sidenote: Return to psychology.]

I understand you, he replied; not perfectly, for you seem to me to be

describing a task which is really tremendous; but, at any rate,

I understand you to say that knowledge and being, which the science of

dialectic contemplates, are clearer than the notions of the arts, as they

are termed, which proceed from hypotheses only: these are also

contemplated by the understanding, and not by the senses: yet, because

*511D* they start from hypotheses and do not ascend to a principle, those

who contemplate them appear to you not to exercise the higher reason upon

them, although when a first principle is added to them they are cognizable

by the higher reason. And the habit which is concerned with geometry and

the cognate sciences I suppose that you would term understanding and not

reason, as being intermediate between opinion and reason.

[Sidenote: Four faculties: Reason, understanding, faith, perception of

shadows.]

You have quite conceived my meaning, I said; and now, corresponding to

these four divisions, let there be four faculties in the soul--reason

answering to the highest, *511E* understanding to the second, faith (or

conviction) to the third, and perception of shadows to the last--and let

there be a scale of them, and let us suppose that the several faculties

have clearness in the same degree that their objects have truth.

I understand, he replied, and give my assent, and accept your arrangement.