- •Irony or a greater wealth of humor or imagery, or more dramatic power.
- •In the ideal State which is constructed by Socrates. The first care
- •Inconsistency which is obvious to us. For there is a judgment of after
- •Is still worth asking," because the investigation shows that we can
- •In the introduction only, Polemarchus drops at the end of the first
- •In the first book we have more of the real Socrates, such as he is
- •In his sleep for fear, and he is filled with dark forebodings. But
- •I say, any similar liability to fault or defect, and does every art
- •Interest of the body?
- •If you change, change openly and let there be no deception. For I
- •Very true.
- •Idea that they are going to have any benefit or enjoyment themselves,
- •I do not think that I misapprehend your meaning, Thrasymachus, I replied;
- •Injustice the defect of the soul?
- •In the service of the king of Lydia; there was a great storm, and
- •Instantly he became invisible to the rest of the company and they
- •I was going to say something in answer to Glaucon, when Adeimantus,
- •Vice may be had in abundance without trouble; the way is smooth and
- •In either case should we mind about concealment? And even if there
- •Injustice or praised justice except with a view to the glories, honours,
- •Very true.
- •In request, and nurses wet and dry, tirewomen and barbers, as well
- •I entirely agree with you, he said; in my opinion those stories are
- •Iambic verses occur --or of the house of Pelops, or of the Trojan
- •I entirely agree, be said, in these principles, and promise to make
- •Is that the good man will not consider death terrible to any other
- •I would he even with thee, if I had only the power, or his insubordination
- •Inconsistent passions, meanness, not untainted by avarice, combined
- •I understand, he said.
- •If then we adhere to our original notion and bear in mind that our
- •Is overtaken by illness or love or drink, or has met with any other
- •Inform him that in our State such as he are not permitted to exist;
- •Very true, he replied.
- •Images wherever they are found, not slighting them either in small
- •In the days of Asclepius; and this I infer from the circumstance that
- •In anything from his usual regimen, and so dying hard, by the help
- •I mean this: When a carpenter is ill he asks the physician for a rough
- •In his life if he were deprived of his occupation?
- •Impediment to the application of the mind t in carpentering and the
- •Intemperate subjects, whose lives were of no use either to themselves
- •I will, if I can. Let me however note that in the same question you
- •Infer the crimes of others as he might their bodily diseases from
- •In him, having no taste of any sort of learning or enquiry or thought
- •I suppose that you mean houses, he replied.
- •I think, he said, that there is no need to impose laws about them
- •In which the citizens are forbidden under pain of death to alter the
- •It is the knowledge of the guardians, he replied, and found among
- •Influences which would prepare them to take the dye of the laws in
- •In all these modes of speaking the same person is denoted.
- •I proceeded to ask: When two things, a greater and less, are called
- •Very true.
- •Verified?
- •I perhaps ought to have said before in the proper place. The part
- •I should rather expect, I said, that several of our proposals, if
- •In saying that men and women, whose natures are so entirely different,
- •Is a hindrance to him?-would not these be the sort of differences
- •Very true.
- •I should like to ask you a question.
- •I mean, I replied, that our rulers will find a considerable dose of
- •In some mysterious, unknown place, as they should be.
- •I was saying, will be forbidden to inter-marry. This, however, is
- •I hardly like even to mention the little meannesses of which they
- •I approve.
- •In the first place, that he is of the golden race?
- •In what respect do you mean?
- •It ought to be, he replied.
- •I agree, he said, that our citizens should thus deal with their Hellenic
- •I was only going to ask whether, if we have discovered them, we are
- •Very true, he said.
- •I am sure that you will admit a proposition which I am about to make.
- •I will begin by placing faculties in a class by themselves: they are
- •Is to know the nature of being?
- •In the first place, as we began by observing, the nature of the philosopher
- •Impossible.
- •Is to have a full and perfect participation of being?
- •In a court of law, or a theatre, or a camp, or in any other popular
- •Impossible.
- •Into a sanctuary, take a leap out of their trades into philosophy;
- •Is there any champion of justice at whose side they may fight and
- •Virtue --such a man ruling in a city which bears the same image, they
- •I think that they will be less angry.
- •Very true.
- •I understand, he replied, and give my assent, and accept your arrangement.
- •Imagine once more, I said, such an one coming suddenly out of the
- •Very true.
- •Instruments in binding up the State.
- •Into our former scheme?
- •Invariable, indivisible, --what would they answer?
- •I agree, he said.
- •Very true.
- •In every action of their lives and in every branch of knowledge come
- •In houses such as we were describing, which are common to all, and
- •Injustice, as Thrasymachus advises, or in accordance with the conclusions
- •Incapable of carrying on any war. Either they arm the multitude, and
- •In their old age end as paupers; of the stingers come all the criminal
- •Very true.
- •Very true.
- •Vain conceits shut the gate of the king's fastness; and they will
- •Very true, he said.
- •Into his head; and, if he is emulous of any one who is a warrior,
- •In relation to each other.
- •Inevitably.
- •Very true.
- •Is making promises in public and also in private! liberating debtors,
- •If he is to rule, I suppose that he cannot help himself.
- •I can imagine him.
- •I should not wonder.
- •I imagine, I said, at the next step in his progress, that there will
- •Very true, I said. But imagine one of these owners, the master say
- •In less real being will be less truly and surely satisfied, and will
- •Is no division, the several parts are just, and do each of them their
- •Into one.
- •If he be right, it is profitable for this creature to feast the multitudinous
- •In their hearts a guardian and ruler like our own, and when this is
- •If you please.
- •Is said, Homer was greatly neglected by him and others in his own
- •In like manner the poet with his words and phrases may be said to
- •It will make a great difference whether he is seen or not.
- •In the way of that which at the moment is most required.
- •Inconceivable greatness.
- •Into the upper world, but the mouth, instead of admitting them, gave
- •In this world dedicated himself from the first to sound philosophy,
- •In the arts; and far away among the last who chose, the soul of the
- •Is immortal and able to endure every sort of good and every sort of
- •In any form. Direct permission requests to classics@classics.Mit.Edu.
Is to have a full and perfect participation of being?
They are absolutely necessary, he replied.
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.
Socrates - ADEIMANTUS
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 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 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.
Hear my answer; I am of opinion that they are quite right.
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.
Yes, Socrates; and that is a way of speaking to which you are not
at all accustomed, I suppose.
I perceive, I said, that you are vastly amused at having plunged me
into such a hopeless discussion; but now hear 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 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 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 a manner as 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 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 part of their calling. 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?
Of course, said Adeimantus.
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 their having honour would be
far more extraordinary.
I will.
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, 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.
For these reasons, and among men like these, philosophy, the noblest
pursuit of all, is not likely to be much esteemed 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 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.
Then shall we proceed to show that the corruption of the majority
is also unavoidable, and that this is not to be laid to 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 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.
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 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.
And will the love of a lie be any part of a philosopher's nature?
Will he not utterly hate a lie?
He will.
And when truth is the captain, we cannot suspect any evil of the band
which he leads?
Impossible.
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 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.
Exactly.
And we have next to consider the of the philosophic nature, why so
many are spoiled and so few escape spoiling --I am speaking of those
who were said to be 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.
I will see if I can explain them to you. Every one will admit that
a nature having in perfection all the qualities 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?
In the first place there are their own virtues, their courage, temperance,
and the rest of them, every one of which praise worthy 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.
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.
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 what is not.
Very true.
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.
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.
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
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.
When they meet together, and the world sits down at an assembly, or
