BOOK VII.
[Sidenote: _Republic VII._ Socrates, Glaucon.]
[Sidenote: The den, the prisoners; the light at a distance;]
*514A* And now, I said, let me show in a figure how far our nature is
enlightened or unenlightened:--Behold! human beings living in a
underground den, which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all
along the den; here they have been from their childhood, and have their
legs and necks chained so that they cannot move, and *514B* can only see
before them, being prevented by the chains from turning round their heads.
Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and between the
fire and the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you
look, a low wall built along the way, like the screen which marionette
players have in front of them, over which they show the puppets.
I see.
[Sidenote: the low wall, and the moving figures of which the shadows are
seen on the opposite wall of the den.]
And do you see, I said, men passing along the wall carrying *514C* all
sorts of vessels, and statues and figures of animals *515A* made of wood
and stone and various materials, which appear over the wall? Some of them
are talking, others silent.
You have shown me a strange image, and they are strange prisoners.
Like ourselves, I replied; and they see only their own shadows, or the
shadows of one another, which the fire throws on the opposite wall of the
cave?
True, he said; how could they see anything but the *515B* shadows if they
were never allowed to move their heads?
And of the objects which are being carried in like manner they would only
see the shadows?
Yes, he said.
And if they were able to converse with one another, would they not suppose
that they were naming what was actually before them[1]? {215}
[Footnote 1: Reading [Greek: paro/nta].]
Very true.
[Sidenote: The prisoners would mistake the shadows for realities.]
And suppose further that the prison had an echo which came from the other
side, would they not be sure to fancy when one of the passers-by spoke
that the voice which they heard came from the passing shadow?
No question, he replied.
*515C* To them, I said, the truth would be literally nothing but the
shadows of the images.
That is certain.
[Sidenote: And when released, they would still persist in maintaining the
superior truth of the shadows.]
And now look again, and see what will naturally follow if the prisoners
are released and disabused of their error. At first, when any of them is
liberated and compelled suddenly to stand up and turn his neck round and
walk and look towards the light, he will suffer sharp pains; the glare
will distress him, and he will be unable to see the realities of *515D*
which in his former state he had seen the shadows; and then conceive some
one saying to him, that what he saw before was an illusion, but that now,
when he is approaching nearer to being and his eye is turned towards more
real existence, he has a clearer vision,--what will be his reply? And you
may further imagine that his instructor is pointing to the objects as they
pass and requiring him to name them,--will he not be perplexed? Will he
not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer than the
objects which are now shown to him?
Far truer.
*515E* And if he is compelled to look straight at the light, will he not
have a pain in his eyes which will make him turn away to take refuge in
the objects of vision which he can see, and which he will conceive to be
in reality clearer than the things which are now being shown to him?
True, he said.
[Sidenote: When dragged upwards, they would be dazzled by excess of
light.]
And suppose once more, that he is reluctantly dragged up a steep and
rugged ascent, and held fast until he is forced into the presence of the
sun himself, is he not likely to be *516A* pained and irritated? When he
approaches the light his eyes will be dazzled, and he will not be able to
see anything at all of what are now called realities.
Not all in a moment, he said.
He will require to grow accustomed to the sight of the {216} upper world.
And first he will see the shadows best, next the reflections of men and
other objects in the water, and then the objects themselves; then he will
gaze upon the light of the moon and the stars and the spangled heaven;
*516B* and he will see the sky and the stars by night better than the sun
or the light of the sun by day?
Certainly.
[Sidenote: At length they will see the sun and understand his nature.]
Last of all he will be able to see the sun, and not mere reflections of
him in the water, but he will see him in his own proper place, and not in
another; and he will contemplate him as he is.
Certainly.
He will then proceed to argue that this is he who gives the season and the
years, and is the guardian of all that is in the visible world, and in a
certain way the cause of all *516C* things which he and his fellows have
been accustomed to behold?
Clearly, he said, he would first see the sun and then reason about him.
[Sidenote: They would then pity their old companions of the den.]
And when he remembered his old habitation, and the wisdom of the den and
his fellow-prisoners, do you not suppose that he would felicitate himself
on the change, and pity them?
Certainly, he would.
And if they were in the habit of conferring honours among themselves on
those who were quickest to observe the passing shadows and to remark which
of them went before, and *516D* which followed after, and which were
together; and who were therefore best able to draw conclusions as to the
future, do you think that he would care for such honours and glories, or
envy the possessors of them? Would he not say with Homer,
'Better to be the poor servant of a poor master,'
and to endure anything, rather than think as they do and live after their
manner?
*516E* Yes, he said, I think that he would rather suffer anything than
entertain these false notions and live in this miserable manner.
[Sidenote: But when they returned to the den they would see much worse
than those who had never left it.]
Imagine once more, I said, such an one coming suddenly {217} out of the
sun to be replaced in his old situation; would he not be certain to have
his eyes full of darkness?
To be sure, he said.
And if there were a contest, and he had to compete in measuring the
shadows with the prisoners who had never *517A* moved out of the den,
while his sight was still weak, and before his eyes had become steady (and
the time which would be needed to acquire this new habit of sight might be
very considerable), would he not be ridiculous? Men would say of him that
up he went and down he came without his eyes; and that it was better not
even to think of ascending; and if any one tried to loose another and lead
him up to the light, let them only catch the offender, and they would put
him to death.
No question, he said.
[Sidenote: The prison is the world of sight, the light of the fire is the
sun.]
This entire allegory, I said, you may now append, dear *517B* Glaucon, to
the previous argument; the prison-house is the world of sight, the light
of the fire is the sun, and you will not misapprehend me if you interpret
the journey upwards to be the ascent of the soul into the intellectual
world according to my poor belief, which, at your desire, I have
expressed--whether rightly or wrongly God knows. But, whether true or
false, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good
appears last of all, and is seen *517C* only with an effort; and, when
seen, is also inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful
and right, parent of light and of the lord of light in this visible world,
and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual; and that
this is the power upon which he who would act rationally either in public
or private life must have his eye fixed.
I agree, he said, as far as I am able to understand you.
Moreover, I said, you must not wonder that those who attain to this
beatific vision are unwilling to descend to human affairs; for their souls
are ever hastening into the *517D* upper world where they desire to dwell;
which desire of theirs is very natural, if our allegory may be trusted.
Yes, very natural.
[Sidenote: Nothing extraordinary in the philosopher being unable to see in
the dark.]
And is there anything surprising in one who passes from divine
contemplations to the evil state of man, misbehaving {218} himself in a
ridiculous manner; if, while his eyes are blinking and before he has
become accustomed to the surrounding darkness, he is compelled to fight in
courts of law, or in other places, about the images or the shadows of
images of *517E* justice, and is endeavouring to meet the conceptions of
those who have never yet seen absolute justice?
Anything but surprising, he replied.
[Sidenote: The eyes may be blinded in two ways, by excess or by defect of
light.]
*518A* Any one who has common sense will remember that the bewilderments
of the eyes are of two kinds, and arise from two causes, either from
coming out of the light or from going into the light, which is true of the
mind's eye, quite as much as of the bodily eye; and he who remembers this
when he sees any one whose vision is perplexed and weak, will not be too
ready to laugh; he will first ask whether that soul of man has come out of
the brighter life, and is unable to see because unaccustomed to the dark,
or having turned from darkness to the day is dazzled by excess of light.
*518B* And he will count the one happy in his condition and state of
being, and he will pity the other; or, if he have a mind to laugh at the
soul which comes from below into the light, there will be more reason in
this than in the laugh which greets him who returns from above out of the
light into the den.
That, he said, is a very just distinction.
[Sidenote: The conversion of the soul is the turning round the eye from
darkness to light.]
But then, if I am right, certain professors of education must be wrong
when they say that they can put a knowledge *518C* into the soul which was
not there before, like sight into blind eyes.
They undoubtedly say this, he replied.
Whereas, our argument shows that the power and capacity of learning exists
in the soul already; and that just as the eye was unable to turn from
darkness to light without the whole body, so too the instrument of
knowledge can only by the movement of the whole soul be turned from the
world of becoming into that of being, and learn by degrees to endure the
sight of being, and of the brightest and best of being, or *518D* in other
words, of the good.
Very true.
And must there not be some art which will effect conversion in the easiest
and quickest manner; not implanting {219} the faculty of sight, for that
exists already, but has been turned in the wrong direction, and is looking
away from the truth?
Yes, he said, such an art may be presumed.
[Sidenote: The virtue of wisdom has a divine power which may be turned
either towards good or towards evil.]
And whereas the other so-called virtues of the soul seem to be akin to
bodily qualities, for even when they are not *518E* originally innate they
can be implanted later by habit and exercise, the virtue of wisdom more
than anything else contains a divine element which always remains, and by
this conversion is rendered useful and profitable; or, on the other hand,
hurtful and useless. Did you never observe the narrow *519A* intelligence
flashing from the keen eye of a clever rogue--how eager he is, how clearly
his paltry soul sees the way to his end; he is the reverse of blind, but
his keen eye-sight is forced into the service of evil, and he is
mischievous in proportion to his cleverness?
Very true, he said.
But what if there had been a circumcision of such natures in the days of
their youth; and they had been severed from those sensual pleasures, such
as eating and drinking, which, *519B* like leaden weights, were attached
to them at their birth, and which drag them down and turn the vision of
their souls upon the things that are below--if, I say, they had been
released from these impediments and turned in the opposite direction, the
very same faculty in them would have seen the truth as keenly as they see
what their eyes are turned to now.
Very likely.
[Sidenote: Neither the uneducated nor the overeducated will be good
servants of the State.]
Yes, I said; and there is another thing which is likely, or rather a
necessary inference from what has preceded, that neither the uneducated
and uninformed of the truth, nor *519C* yet those who never make an end of
their education, will be able ministers of State; not the former, because
they have no single aim of duty which is the rule of all their actions,
private as well as public; nor the latter, because they will not act at
all except upon compulsion, fancying that they are already dwelling apart
in the islands of the blest.
Very true, he replied.
Then, I said, the business of us who are the founders of the State will be
to compel the best minds to attain that {220} knowledge which we have
already shown to be the greatest of all--they must continue to ascend
until they arrive at the good; *519D* but when they have ascended and seen
enough we must not allow them to do as they do now.
What do you mean?
[Sidenote: Men should ascend to the upper world, but they should also
return to the lower.]
I mean that they remain in the upper world: but this must not be allowed;
they must be made to descend again among the prisoners in the den, and
partake of their labours and honours, whether they are worth having or
not.
But is not this unjust? he said; ought we to give them a worse life, when
they might have a better?
*519E* You have again forgotten, my friend, I said, the intention of the
legislator, who did not aim at making any one class in the State happy
above the rest; the happiness was to be in the whole State, and he held
the citizens together by persuasion and necessity, making them benefactors
of the State, *520A* and therefore benefactors of one another; to this end
he created them, not to please themselves, but to be his instruments in
binding up the State.
True, he said, I had forgotten.
[Sidenote: The duties of philosophers.]
[Sidenote: Their obligations to their country will induce them to take