Very true.

They themselves care only for making money, and are as indifferent

as the pauper to the cultivation of virtue.

Yes, quite as indifferent.

Such is the state of affairs which prevails among them. And often

rulers and their subjects may come in one another's way, whether on

a pilgrimage or a march, as fellow-soldiers or fellow-sailors; aye,

and they may observe the behaviour of each other in the very moment

of danger --for where danger is, there is no fear that the poor will

be despised by the rich --and very likely the wiry sunburnt poor man

may be placed in battle at the side of a wealthy one who has never

spoilt his complexion and has plenty of superfluous flesh --when he

sees such an one puffing and at his wit's end, how can he avoid drawing

the conclusion that men like him are only rich because no one has

the courage to despoil them? And when they meet in private will not

people be saying to one another 'Our warriors are not good for much'?

Yes, he said, I am quite aware that this is their way of talking.

And, as in a body which is diseased the addition of a touch from without

may bring on illness, and sometimes even when there is no external

provocation a commotion may arise within-in the same way wherever

there is weakness in the State there is also likely to be illness,

of which the occasions may be very slight, the one party introducing

from without their oligarchical, the other their democratical allies,

and then the State falls sick, and is at war with herself; and may

be at times distracted, even when there is no external cause.

Yes, surely.

And then democracy comes into being after the poor have conquered

their opponents, slaughtering some and banishing some, while to the

remainder they give an equal share of freedom and power; and this

is the form of government in which the magistrates are commonly elected

by lot.

Yes, he said, that is the nature of democracy, whether the revolution

has been effected by arms, or whether fear has caused the opposite

party to withdraw.

And now what is their manner of life, and what sort of a government

have they? for as the government is, such will be the man.

Clearly, he said.

In the first place, are they not free; and is not the city full of

freedom and frankness --a man may say and do what he likes?

'Tis said so, he replied.

And where freedom is, the individual is clearly able to order for

himself his own life as he pleases?

Clearly.

Then in this kind of State there will be the greatest variety of human

natures?

There will.

This, then, seems likely to be the fairest of States, being an embroidered

robe which is spangled with every sort of flower. And just as women

and children think a variety of colours to be of all things most charming,

so there are many men to whom this State, which is spangled with the

manners and characters of mankind, will appear to be the fairest of

States.

Yes.

Yes, my good Sir, and there will be no better in which to look for

a government.

Why?

Because of the liberty which reigns there --they have a complete assortment

of constitutions; and he who has a mind to establish a State, as we

have been doing, must go to a democracy as he would to a bazaar at

which they sell them, and pick out the one that suits him; then, when

he has made his choice, he may found his State.

He will be sure to have patterns enough.

And there being no necessity, I said, for you to govern in this State,

even if you have the capacity, or to be governed, unless you like,

or go to war when the rest go to war, or to be at peace when others

are at peace, unless you are so disposed --there being no necessity

also, because some law forbids you to hold office or be a dicast,

that you should not hold office or be a dicast, if you have a fancy

--is not this a way of life which for the moment is supremely delightful

For the moment, yes.

And is not their humanity to the condemned in some cases quite charming?

Have you not observed how, in a democracy, many persons, although

they have been sentenced to death or exile, just stay where they are

and walk about the world --the gentleman parades like a hero, and

nobody sees or cares?

Yes, he replied, many and many a one.

See too, I said, the forgiving spirit of democracy, and the 'don't

care' about trifles, and the disregard which she shows of all the

fine principles which we solemnly laid down at the foundation of the

city --as when we said that, except in the case of some rarely gifted

nature, there never will be a good man who has not from his childhood

been used to play amid things of beauty and make of them a joy and

a study --how grandly does she trample all these fine notions of ours

under her feet, never giving a thought to the pursuits which make

a statesman, and promoting to honour any one who professes to be the

people's friend.

Yes, she is of a noble spirit.

These and other kindred characteristics are proper to democracy, which

is a charming form of government, full of variety and disorder, and

dispensing a sort of equality to equals and unequals alike.

We know her well.

Consider now, I said, what manner of man the individual is, or rather

consider, as in the case of the State, how he comes into being.

Very good, he said.

Is not this the way --he is the son of the miserly and oligarchical

father who has trained him in his own habits?

Exactly.

And, like his father, he keeps under by force the pleasures which

are of the spending and not of the getting sort, being those which

are called unnecessary?

Obviously.

Would you like, for the sake of clearness, to distinguish which are

the necessary and which are the unnecessary pleasures?

I should.

Are not necessary pleasures those of which we cannot get rid, and

of which the satisfaction is a benefit to us? And they are rightly

so, because we are framed by nature to desire both what is beneficial

and what is necessary, and cannot help it.

True.

We are not wrong therefore in calling them necessary?

We are not.

And the desires of which a man may get rid, if he takes pains from

his youth upwards --of which the presence, moreover, does no good,

and in some cases the reverse of good --shall we not be right in saying

that all these are unnecessary?

Yes, certainly.

Suppose we select an example of either kind, in order that we may

have a general notion of them?

Very good.

Will not the desire of eating, that is, of simple food and condiments,

in so far as they are required for health and strength, be of the

necessary class?

That is what I should suppose.

The pleasure of eating is necessary in two ways; it does us good and

it is essential to the continuance of life?

Yes.

But the condiments are only necessary in so far as they are good for

health?

Certainly.

And the desire which goes beyond this, or more delicate food, or other

luxuries, which might generally be got rid of, if controlled and trained

in youth, and is hurtful to the body, and hurtful to the soul in the

pursuit of wisdom and virtue, may be rightly called unnecessary?

Very true.

May we not say that these desires spend, and that the others make

money because they conduce to production?

Certainly.

And of the pleasures of love, and all other pleasures, the same holds

good?

True.

And the drone of whom we spoke was he who was surfeited in pleasures

and desires of this sort, and was the slave of the unnecessary desires,

whereas he who was subject o the necessary only was miserly and oligarchical?

Very true.

Again, let us see how the democratical man grows out of the oligarchical:

the following, as I suspect, is commonly the process.

What is the process?

When a young man who has been brought up as we were just now describing,

in a vulgar and miserly way, has tasted drones' honey and has come

to associate with fierce and crafty natures who are able to provide

for him all sorts of refinements and varieties of pleasure --then,

as you may imagine, the change will begin of the oligarchical principle

within him into the democratical?

Inevitably.

And as in the city like was helping like, and the change was effected

by an alliance from without assisting one division of the citizens,

so too the young man is changed by a class of desires coming from

without to assist the desires within him, that which is and alike

again helping that which is akin and alike?

Certainly.

And if there be any ally which aids the oligarchical principle within

him, whether the influence of a father or of kindred, advising or

rebuking him, then there arises in his soul a faction and an opposite

faction, and he goes to war with himself.

It must be so.

And there are times when the democratical principle gives way to the

oligarchical, and some of his desires die, and others are banished;

a spirit of reverence enters into the young man's soul and order is

restored.

Yes, he said, that sometimes happens.

And then, again, after the old desires have been driven out, fresh

ones spring up, which are akin to them, and because he, their father,

does not know how to educate them, wax fierce and numerous.

Yes, he said, that is apt to be the way.

They draw him to his old associates, and holding secret intercourse

with them, breed and multiply in him.