Full Text Archive logoFull Text Archive — Free Classic E-books

Plato's Republic

Part 7 out of 9

Adobe PDF icon
Download this document as a .pdf
File size: 0.9 MB
What's this? light bulb idea Many people prefer to read off-line or to print out text and read from the real printed page. Others want to carry documents around with them on their mobile phones and read while they are on the move. We have created .pdf files of all out documents to accommodate all these groups of people. We recommend that you download .pdfs onto your mobile phone when it is connected to a WiFi connection for reading off-line.

reveal this, and only to one who is a disciple of the previous sciences.

Of that assertion you may be as confident as of the last.

And assuredly no one will argue that there is any other method
of comprehending by any regular process all true existence or of
ascertaining what each thing is in its own nature; for the arts
in general are concerned with the desires or opinions of men,
or are cultivated with a view to production and construction,
or for the preservation of such productions and constructions;
and as to the mathematical sciences which, as we were saying,
have some apprehension of true being--geometry and the like--
they only dream about being, but never can they behold the waking
reality so long as they leave the hypotheses which they use unexamined,
and are unable to give an account of them. For when a man
knows not his own first principle, and when the conclusion and
intermediate steps are also constructed out of he knows not what,
how can he imagine that such a fabric of convention can ever
become science?

Impossible, he said.

Then dialectic, and dialectic alone, goes directly to the first
principle and is the only science which does away with hypotheses
in order to make her ground secure; the eye of the soul, which is
literally buried in an outlandish slough, is by her gentle aid
lifted upwards; and she uses as handmaids and helpers in the work
of conversion, the sciences which we have been discussing.
Custom terms them sciences, but they ought to have some other name,
implying greater clearness than opinion and less clearness than science:
and this, in our previous sketch, was called understanding.
But why should we dispute about names when we have realities of such
importance to consider?

Why indeed, he said, when any name will do which expresses
the thought of the mind with clearness?

At any rate, we are satisfied, as before, to have four divisions;
two for intellect and two for opinion, and to call the first
division science, the second understanding, the third belief,
and the fourth perception of shadows, opinion being concerned
with becoming, and intellect with being; and so to make a proportion:--

As being is to becoming, so is pure intellect to opinion.
And as intellect is to opinion, so is science to belief, and
understanding to the perception of shadows.

But let us defer the further correlation and subdivision of the
subjects of opinion and of intellect, for it will be a long enquiry,
many times longer than this has been.

As far as I understand, he said, I agree.

And do you also agree, I said, in describing the dialectician
as one who attains a conception of the essence of each thing?
And he who does not possess and is therefore unable to impart
this conception, in whatever degree he fails, may in that degree
also be said to fail in intelligence? Will you admit so much?

Yes, he said; how can I deny it?

And you would say the same of the conception of the good?

Until the person is able to abstract and define rationally the idea
of good, and unless he can run the gauntlet of all objections,
and is ready to disprove them, not by appeals to opinion,
but to absolute truth, never faltering at any step of the argument--
unless he can do all this, you would say that he knows neither
the idea of good nor any other good; he apprehends only a shadow,
if anything at all, which is given by opinion and not by science;--
dreaming and slumbering in this life, before he is well awake here,
he arrives at the world below, and has his final quietus.

In all that I should most certainly agree with you.

And surely you would not have the children of your ideal State,
whom you are nurturing and educating--if the ideal ever becomes
a reality--you would not allow the future rulers to be like posts,
having no reason in them, and yet to be set in authority over
the highest matters?

Certainly not.

Then you will make a law that they shall have such an education
as will enable them to attain the greatest skill in asking
and answering questions?

Yes, he said, you and I together will make it.

Dialectic, then, as you will agree, is the coping-stone of the sciences,
and is set over them; no other science can be placed higher--
the nature of knowledge can no further go?

I agree, he said.

But to whom we are to assign these studies, and in what way they
are to be assigned, are questions which remain to be considered?

Yes, clearly.

You remember, I said, how the rulers were chosen before?

Certainly, he said.

The same natures must still be chosen, and the preference
again given to the surest and the bravest, and, if possible,
to the fairest; and, having noble and generous tempers, they should
also have the natural gifts which will facilitate their education.

And what are these?

Such gifts as keenness and ready powers of acquisition;
for the mind more often faints from the severity of study than from
the severity of gymnastics: the toil is more entirely the mind's own,
and is not shared with the body.

Very true, he replied.

Further, he of whom we are in search should have a good memory,
and be an unwearied solid man who is a lover of labour in any line;
or he will never be able to endure the great amount of bodily exercise
and to go through all the intellectual discipline and study which we
require of him.

Certainly, he said; he must have natural gifts.

The mistake at present is, that those who study philosophy have
no vocation, and this, as I was before saying, is the reason
why she has fallen into disrepute: her true sons should take
her by the hand and not bastards.

What do you mean?

In the first place, her votary should not have a lame or halting industry--
I mean, that he should not be half industrious and half idle:
as, for example, when a man is a lover of gymnastic and hunting,
and all other bodily exercises, but a hater rather than a lover
of the labour of learning or listening or enquiring. Or the
occupation to which he devotes himself may be of an opposite kind,
and he may have the other sort of lameness.

Certainly, he said.

And as to truth, I said, is not a soul equally to be deemed
halt and lame which hates voluntary falsehood and is extremely
indignant at herself and others when they tell lies, but is patient
of involuntary falsehood, and does not mind wallowing like a swinish
beast in the mire of ignorance, and has no shame at being detected?

To be sure.

And, again, in respect of temperance, courage, magnificence, and every
other virtue, should we not carefully distinguish between the true
son and the bastard? for where there is no discernment of such
qualities States and individuals unconsciously err and the State makes
a ruler, and the individual a friend, of one who, being defective
in some part of virtue, is in a figure lame or a bastard.

That is very true, he said.

All these things, then, will have to be carefully considered by us;
and if only those whom we introduce to this vast system of education
and training are sound in body and mind, justice herself will have nothing
to say against us, and we shall be the saviours of the constitution
and of the State; but, if our pupils are men of another stamp,
the reverse will happen, and we shall pour a still greater flood
of ridicule on philosophy than she has to endure at present.

That would not be creditable.

Certainly not, I said; and yet perhaps, in thus turning jest
into earnest I am equally ridiculous.

In what respect?

I had forgotten, I said, that we were not serious, and spoke with too
much excitement. For when I saw philosophy so undeservedly trampled
under foot of men I could not help feeling a sort of indignation
at the authors of her disgrace: and my anger made me too vehement.

Indeed! I was listening, and did not think so.

But I, who am the speaker, felt that I was. And now let me remind
you that, although in our former selection we chose old men,
we must not do so in this. Solon was under a delusion when he
said that a man when he grows old may learn many things--for he
can no more learn much than he can run much; youth is the time
for any extraordinary toil.

Of course.

And, therefore, calculation and geometry and all the other elements
of instruction, which are a preparation for dialectic, should be
presented to the mind in childhood; not, however, under any notion
of forcing our system of education.

Why not?

Because a freeman ought not to be a slave in the acquisition
of knowledge of any kind. Bodily exercise, when compulsory,
does no harm to the body; but knowledge which is acquired under
compulsion obtains no hold on the mind.

Very true.

Then, my good friend, I said, do not use compulsion, but let early
education be a sort of amusement; you will then be better able
to find out the natural bent.

That is a very rational notion, he said.

Do you remember that the children, too, were to be taken to see
the battle on horseback; and that if there were no danger they
were to be brought close up and, like young hounds, have a taste
of blood given them?

Yes, I remember.

The same practice may be followed, I said, in all these things--
labours, lessons, dangers--and he who is most at home in all
of them ought to be enrolled in a select number.

At what age?

At the age when the necessary gymnastics are over: the period whether
of two or three years which passes in this sort of training is useless
for any other purpose; for sleep and exercise are unpropitious
to learning; and the trial of who is first in gymnastic exercises
is one of the most important tests to which our youth are subjected.

Certainly, he replied.

After that time those who are selected from the class of twenty
years old will be promoted to higher honour, and the sciences
which they learned without any order in their early education will
now be brought together, and they will be able to see the natural
relationship of them to one another and to true being.

Yes, he said, that is the only kind of knowledge which takes
lasting root.

Yes, I said; and the capacity for such knowledge is the great
criterion of dialectical talent: the comprehensive mind is always
the dialectical.

I agree with you, he said.

These, I said, are the points which you must consider; and those
who have most of this comprehension, and who are more steadfast
in their learning, and in their military and other appointed duties,
when they have arrived at the age of thirty have to be chosen
by you out of the select class, and elevated to higher honour;
and you will have to prove them by the help of dialectic, in order
to learn which of them is able to give up the use of sight and the
other senses, and in company with truth to attain absolute being:
And here, my friend, great caution is required.

Why great caution?

Do you not remark, I said, how great is the evil which dialectic
has introduced?

What evil? he said.

The students of the art are filled with lawlessness.

Quite true, he said.

Do you think that there is anything so very unnatural or inexcusable
in their case? or will you make allowance for them?

In what way make allowance?

I want you, I said, by way of parallel, to imagine a supposititious
son who is brought up in great wealth; he is one of a great
and numerous family, and has many flatterers. When he grows up
to manhood, he learns that his alleged are not his real parents;
but who the real are he is unable to discover. Can you guess
how he will be likely to behave towards his flatterers and his
supposed parents, first of all during the period when he is
ignorant of the false relation, and then again when he knows?
Or shall I guess for you?

If you please.

Then I should say, that while he is ignorant of the truth he will
be likely to honour his father and his mother and his supposed
relations more than the flatterers; he will be less inclined to
neglect them when in need, or to do or say anything against them;
and he will be less willing to disobey them in any important matter.

He will.

But when he has made the discovery, I should imagine that he would
diminish his honour and regard for them, and would become more devoted
to the flatterers; their influence over him would greatly increase;
he would now live after their ways, and openly associate with them,
and, unless he were of an unusually good disposition, he would
trouble himself no more about his supposed parents or other relations.

Well, all that is very probable. But how is the image applicable
to the disciples of philosophy?

In this way: you know that there are certain principles about justice
and honour, which were taught us in childhood, and under their
parental authority we have been brought up, obeying and honouring them.

That is true.

There are also opposite maxims and habits of pleasure which flatter
and attract the soul, but do not influence those of us who have any
sense of right, and they continue to obey and honour the maxims
of their fathers.


Now, when a man is in this state, and the questioning spirit asks
what is fair or honourable, and he answers as the legislator has
taught him, and then arguments many and diverse refute his words,
until he is driven into believing that nothing is honourable any
more than dishonourable, or just and good any more than the reverse,
and so of all the notions which he most valued, do you think that he
will still honour and obey them as before?


And when he ceases to think them honourable and natural as heretofore,
and he fails to discover the true, can he be expected to pursue
any life other than that which flatters his desires?

He cannot.

And from being a keeper of the law he is converted into a breaker
of it?


Now all this is very natural in students of philosophy such as I
have described, and also, as I was just now saying, most excusable.

Yes, he said; and, I may add, pitiable.

Therefore, that your feelings may not be moved to pity about our
citizens who are now thirty years of age, every care must be taken
in introducing them to dialectic.


There is a danger lest they should taste the dear delight too early;
for youngsters, as you may have observed, when they first get
the taste in their mouths, argue for amusement, and are always
contradicting and refuting others in imitation of those who refute them;
like puppy-dogs, they rejoice in pulling and tearing at all who come
near them.

Yes, he said, there is nothing which they like better.

And when they have made many conquests and received defeats
at the hands of many, they violently and speedily get into a way
of not believing anything which they believed before, and hence,
not only they, but philosophy and all that relates to it is apt
to have a bad name with the rest of the world.

Too true, he said.

But when a man begins to get older, he will no longer be guilty of
such insanity; he will imitate the dialectician who is seeking for truth,
and not the eristic, who is contradicting for the sake of amusement;
and the greater moderation of his character will increase instead
of diminishing the honour of the pursuit.

Very true, he said.

And did we not make special provision for this, when we said
that the disciples of philosophy were to be orderly and steadfast,
not, as now, any chance aspirant or intruder?

Very true.

Suppose, I said, the study of philosophy to take the place of gymnastics
and to be continued diligently and earnestly and exclusively
for twice the number of years which were passed in bodily exercise--
will that be enough?

Would you say six or four years? he asked.

Say five years, I replied; at the end of the time they must
be sent down again into the den and compelled to hold any
military or other office which young men are qualified to hold:
in this way they will get their experience of life, and there
will be an opportunity of trying whether, when they are drawn
all manner of ways by temptation, they will stand firm or flinch.

And how long is this stage of their lives to last?

Fifteen years, I answered; and when they have reached fifty years
of age, then let those who still survive and have distinguished
themselves in every action of their lives and in every branch
of knowledge come at last to their consummation; the time has now
arrived at which they must raise the eye of the soul to the universal
light which lightens all things, and behold the absolute good;
for that is the, pattern according to which they are to order the State
and the lives of individuals, and the remainder of their own lives also;
making philosophy their chief pursuit, but, when their turn comes,
toiling also at politics and ruling for the public good, not as though
they were performing some heroic action, but simply as a matter of duty;
and when they have brought up in each generation others like
themselves and left them in their place to be governors of the State,
then they will depart to the Islands of the Blest and dwell there;
and the city will give them public memorials and sacrifices and
honour them, if the Pythian oracle consent, as demi-gods, but if not,
as in any case blessed and divine.

You are a sculptor, Socrates, and have made statues of our governors
faultless in beauty.

Yes, I said, Glaucon, and of our governesses too;
for you must not suppose that what I have been
saying applies to men only and not to women as far as their natures can go.

There you are right, he said, since we have made them to share
in all things like the men.

Well, I said, and you would agree (would you not?) that what has
been said about the State and the government is not a mere dream,
and although difficult not impossible, but only possible in the way
which has been supposed; that is to say, when the true philosopher
kings are born in a State, one or more of them, despising the
honours of this present world which they deem mean and worthless,
esteeming above all things right and the honour that springs from right,
and regarding justice as the greatest and most necessary of all things,
whose ministers they are, and whose principles will be exalted
by them when they set in order their own city?

How will they proceed?

They will begin by sending out into the country all the inhabitants
of the city who are more than ten years old, and will take possession
of their children, who will be unaffected by the habits of their parents;
these they will train in their own habits and laws, I mean in the laws
which we have given them: and in this way the State and constitution
of which we were speaking will soonest and most easily attain happiness,
and the nation which has such a constitution will gain most.

Yes, that will be the best way. And I think, Socrates, that you
have very well described how, if ever, such a constitution might
come into being.

Enough then of the perfect State, and of the man who bears its image--
there is no difficulty in seeing how we shall describe him.

There is no difficulty, he replied; and I agree with you in thinking
that nothing more need be said.



AND so, Glaucon, we have arrived at the conclusion that in the
perfect State wives and children are to be in common; and that all
education and the pursuits of war and peace are also to be common,
and the best philosophers and the bravest warriors are to be their kings?

That, replied Glaucon, has been acknowledged.

Yes, I said; and we have further acknowledged that the governors,
when appointed themselves, will take their soldiers and place them
in houses such as we were describing, which are common to all,
and contain nothing private, or individual; and about their property,
you remember what we agreed?

Yes, I remember that no one was to have any of the ordinary possessions
of mankind; they were to be warrior athletes and guardians,
receiving from the other citizens, in lieu of annual payment,
only their maintenance, and they were to take care of themselves
and of the whole State.

True, I said; and now that this division of our task is concluded,
let us find the point at which we digressed, that we may return into
the old path.

There is no difficulty in returning; you implied, then as now,
that you had finished the description of the State: you said
that such a State was good, and that the man was good who
answered to it, although, as now appears, you had more excellent
things to relate both of State and man. And you said further,
that if this was the true form, then the others were false;
and of the false forms, you said, as I remember, that there
were four principal ones, and that their defects, and the defects
of the individuals corresponding to them, were worth examining.
When we had seen all the individuals, and finally agreed as to who was
the best and who was the worst of them, we were to consider whether
the best was not also the happiest, and the worst the most miserable.
I asked you what were the four forms of government of which you spoke,
and then Polemarchus and Adeimantus put in their word; and you
began again, and have found your way to the point at which we have
now arrived.

Your recollection, I said, is most exact.

Then, like a wrestler, he replied, you must put yourself again
in the same position; and let me ask the same questions, and do you
give me the same answer which you were about to give me then.

Yes, if I can, I will, I said.

I shall particularly wish to hear what were the four constitutions
of which you were speaking.

That question, I said, is easily answered: the four governments
of which I spoke, so far as they have distinct names, are, first,
those of Crete and Sparta, which are generally applauded;
what is termed oligarchy comes next; this is not equally approved,
and is a form of government which teems with evils: thirdly, democracy,
which naturally follows oligarchy, although very different:
and lastly comes tyranny, great and famous, which differs from them all,
and is the fourth and worst disorder of a State. I do not know,
do you? of any other constitution which can be said to have a
distinct character. There are lordships and principalities which are
bought and sold, and some other intermediate forms of government.
But these are nondescripts and may be found equally among Hellenes
and among barbarians.

Yes, he replied, we certainly hear of many curious forms of government
which exist among them.

Do you know, I said, that governments vary as the dispositions of men vary,
and that there must be as many of the one as there are of the other?
For we cannot suppose that States are made of `oak and rock,'
and not out of the human natures which are in them, and which in a
figure turn the scale and draw other things after them?

Yes, he said, the States are as the men are; they grow
out of human characters.

Then if the constitutions of States are five, the dispositions
of individual minds will also be five?


Him who answers to aristocracy, and whom we rightly call just and good,
we have already described.

We have.

Then let us now proceed to describe the inferior sort of natures,
being the contentious and ambitious, who answer to the Spartan polity;
also the oligarchical, democratical, and tyrannical. Let us place
the most just by the side of the most unjust, and when we see them
we shall be able to compare the relative happiness or unhappiness
of him who leads a life of pure justice or pure injustice.
The enquiry will then be completed. And we shall know whether we ought
to pursue injustice, as Thrasymachus advises, or in accordance with
the conclusions of the argument to prefer justice.

Certainly, he replied, we must do as you say.

Shall we follow our old plan, which we adopted with a view to clearness,
of taking the State first and then proceeding to the individual,
and begin with the government of honour?--I know of no name
for such a government other than timocracy, or perhaps timarchy.
We will compare with this the like character in the individual;
and, after that, consider oligarchical man; and then again we
will turn our attention to democracy and the democratical man;
and lastly, we will go and view the city of tyranny, and once
more take a look into the tyrant's soul, and try to arrive at a
satisfactory decision.

That way of viewing and judging of the matter will be very suitable.

First, then, I said, let us enquire how timocracy (the government of honour)
arises out of aristocracy (the government of the best). Clearly,
all political changes originate in divisions of the actual governing power;
a government which is united, however small, cannot be moved.

Very true, he said.

In what way, then, will our city be moved, and in what manner
the two classes of auxiliaries and rulers disagree among themselves
or with one another? Shall we, after the manner of Homer, pray the
Muses to tell us `how discord first arose'? Shall we imagine them
in solemn mockery, to play and jest with us as if we were children,
and to address us in a lofty tragic vein, making believe to be in earnest?

How would they address us?

After this manner:--A city which is thus constituted can hardly
be shaken; but, seeing that everything which has a beginning has
also an end, even a constitution such as yours will not last for ever,
but will in time be dissolved. And this is the dissolution:--
In plants that grow in the earth, as well as in animals that move
on the earth's surface, fertility and sterility of soul and body
occur when the circumferences of the circles of each are completed,
which in short-lived existences pass over a short space,
and in long-lived ones over a long space. But to the knowledge
of human fecundity and sterility all the wisdom and education
of your rulers will not attain; the laws which regulate them will
not be discovered by an intelligence which is alloyed with sense,
but will escape them, and they will bring children into the world
when they ought not. Now that which is of divine birth has a period
which is contained in a perfect number, but the period of human birth
is comprehended in a number in which first increments by involution
and evolution (or squared and cubed) obtaining three intervals
and four terms of like and unlike, waxing and waning numbers,
make all the terms commensurable and agreeable to one another.
The base of these (3) with a third added (4) when combined with five
(20) and raised to the third power furnishes two harmonies;
the first a square which is a hundred times as great (400 = 4 X
100), and the other a figure having one side equal to the former,
but oblong, consisting of a hundred numbers squared upon rational
diameters of a square (i. e. omitting fractions), the side of which
is five (7 X 7 = 49 X 100 = 4900), each of them being less by one
(than the perfect square which includes the fractions, sc. 50) or less
by two perfect squares of irrational diameters (of a square the side
of which is five = 50 + 50 = 100); and a hundred cubes of three
(27 X 100 = 2700 + 4900 + 400 = 8000). Now this number represents
a geometrical figure which has control over the good and evil of births.
For when your guardians are ignorant of the law of births,
and unite bride and bridegroom out of season, the children will not
be goodly or fortunate. And though only the best of them will be
appointed by their predecessors, still they will be unworthy to hold
their fathers' places, and when they come into power as guardians,
they will soon be found to fall in taking care of us, the Muses,
first by under-valuing music; which neglect will soon extend to gymnastic;
and hence the young men of your State will be less cultivated.
In the succeeding generation rulers will be appointed who have lost
the guardian power of testing the metal of your different races,
which, like Hesiod's, are of gold and silver and brass and iron.
And so iron will be mingled with silver, and brass with gold,
and hence there will arise dissimilarity and inequality and irregularity,
which always and in all places are causes of hatred and war.
This the Muses affirm to be the stock from which discord has sprung,
wherever arising; and this is their answer to us.

Yes, and we may assume that they answer truly.

Why, yes, I said, of course they answer truly; how can the Muses
speak falsely?

And what do the Muses say next?

When discord arose, then the two races were drawn different ways:
the iron and brass fell to acquiring money and land and houses
and gold and silver; but the gold and silver races, not wanting money
but having the true riches in their own nature, inclined towards virtue
and the ancient order of things. There was a battle between them,
and at last they agreed to distribute their land and houses among
individual owners; and they enslaved their friends and maintainers,
whom they had formerly protected in the condition of freemen,
and made of them subjects and servants; and they themselves were
engaged in war and in keeping a watch against them.

I believe that you have rightly conceived the origin of the change.

And the new government which thus arises will be of a form
intermediate between oligarchy and aristocracy?

Very true.

Such will be the change, and after the change has been made,
how will they proceed? Clearly, the new State, being in a mean
between oligarchy and the perfect State, will partly follow one
and partly the other, and will also have some peculiarities.

True, he said.

In the honour given to rulers, in the abstinence of the warrior
class from agriculture, handicrafts, and trade in general,
in the institution of common meals, and in the attention paid
to gymnastics and military training--in all these respects this
State will resemble the former.


But in the fear of admitting philosophers to power, because they are no
longer to be had simple and earnest, but are made up of mixed elements;
and in turning from them to passionate and less complex characters,
who are by nature fitted for war rather than peace; and in the value set
by them upon military stratagems and contrivances, and in the waging
of everlasting wars--this State will be for the most part peculiar.


Yes, I said; and men of this stamp will be covetous of money,
like those who live in oligarchies; they will have, a fierce secret
longing after gold and silver, which they will hoard in dark places,
having magazines and treasuries of their own for the deposit and
concealment of them; also castles which are just nests for their eggs,
and in which they will spend large sums on their wives, or on any
others whom they please.

That is most true, he said.

And they are miserly because they have no means of openly acquiring
the money which they prize; they will spend that which is another
man's on the gratification of their desires, stealing their pleasures
and running away like children from the law, their father:
they have been schooled not by gentle influences but by force,
for they have neglected her who is the true Muse, the companion of
reason and philosophy, and have honoured gymnastic more than music.

Undoubtedly, he said, the form of government which you describe
is a mixture of good and evil.

Why, there is a mixture, I said; but one thing, and one thing only,
is predominantly seen,--the spirit of contention and ambition;
and these are due to the prevalence of the passionate or spirited element.

Assuredly, he said.

Such is the origin and such the character of this State,
which has been described in outline only; the more perfect
execution was not required, for a sketch is enough to show
the type of the most perfectly just and most perfectly unjust;
and to go through all the States and all the characters of men,
omitting none of them, would be an interminable labour.

Very true, he replied.

Now what man answers to this form of government-how did he come
into being, and what is he like?


I think, said Adeimantus, that in the spirit of contention
which characterises him, he is not unlike our friend Glaucon.

Perhaps, I said, he may be like him in that one point; but there
are other respects in which he is very different.

In what respects?

He should have more of self-assertion and be less cultivated,
and yet a friend of culture; and he should be a good listener,
but no speaker. Such a person is apt to be rough with slaves,
unlike the educated man, who is too proud for that; and he will
also be courteous to freemen, and remarkably obedient to authority;
he is a lover of power and a lover of honour; claiming to be a ruler,
not because he is eloquent, or on any ground of that sort,
but because he is a soldier and has performed feats of arms;
he is also a lover of gymnastic exercises and of the chase.

Yes, that is the type of character which answers to timocracy.

Such an one will despise riches only when he is young;
but as he gets older he will be more and more attracted to them,
because he has a piece of the avaricious nature in him, and is
not singleminded towards virtue, having lost his best guardian.

Who was that? said Adeimantus.

Philosophy, I said, tempered with music, who comes and takes her abode
in a man, and is the only saviour of his virtue throughout life.

Good, he said.

I said, is the timocratical youth, and he is like the timocratical State.


His origin is as follows:--He is often the young son of a grave father,
who dwells in an ill-governed city, of which he declines the honours
and offices, and will not go to law, or exert himself in any way,
but is ready to waive his rights in order that he may escape trouble.

And how does the son come into being?

The character of the son begins to develop when he hears his mother
complaining that her husband has no place in the government,
of which the consequence is that she has no precedence among
other women. Further, when she sees her husband not very eager
about money, and instead of battling and railing in the law
courts or assembly, taking whatever happens to him quietly;
and when she observes that his thoughts always centre in himself,
while he treats her with very considerable indifference, she is annoyed,
and says to her son that his father is only half a man and far
too easy-going: adding all the other complaints about her own
ill-treatment which women are so fond of rehearsing.

Yes, said Adeimantus, they give us plenty of them, and their
complaints are so like themselves.

And you know, I said, that the old servants also, who are supposed to be
attached to the family, from time to time talk privately in the same
strain to the son; and if they see any one who owes money to his father,
or is wronging him in any way, and he falls to prosecute them,
they tell the youth that when he grows up he must retaliate upon
people of this sort, and be more of a man than his father. He has
only to walk abroad and he hears and sees the same sort of thing:
those who do their own business in the city are called simpletons,
and held in no esteem, while the busy-bodies are honoured and applauded.
The result is that the young man, hearing and seeing all these thing--
hearing too, the words of his father, and having a nearer view of his way
of life, and making comparisons of him and others--is drawn opposite ways:
while his father is watering and nourishing the rational principle
in his soul, the others are encouraging the passionate and appetitive;
and he being not originally of a bad nature, but having kept bad company,
is at last brought by their joint influence to a middle point,
and gives up the kingdom which is within him to the middle
principle of contentiousness and passion, and becomes arrogant
and ambitious.

You seem to me to have described his origin perfectly.

Then we have now, I said, the second form of government and the second
type of character?

We have.

Next, let us look at another man who, as Aeschylus says,

Is set over against another State;

or rather, as our plan requires, begin with the State.

By all means.

I believe that oligarchy follows next in order.

And what manner of government do you term oligarchy?

A government resting on a valuation of property, in which the rich
have power and the poor man is deprived of it.

I understand, he replied.

Ought I not to begin by describing how the change from timocracy
to oligarchy arises?


Well, I said, no eyes are required in order to see how the one
passes into the other.


The accumulation of gold in the treasury of private individuals
is ruin the of timocracy; they invent illegal modes of expenditure;
for what do they or their wives care about the law?

Yes, indeed.

And then one, seeing another grow rich, seeks to rival him,
and thus the great mass of the citizens become lovers of money.

Likely enough.

And so they grow richer and richer, and the more they think
of making a fortune the less they think of virtue; for when riches
and virtue are placed together in the scales of the balance,
the one always rises as the other falls.


And in proportion as riches and rich men are honoured in the State,
virtue and the virtuous are dishonoured.


And what is honoured is cultivated, and that which has no honour
is neglected.

That is obvious.

And so at last, instead of loving contention and glory, men become
lovers of trade and money; they honour and look up to the rich man,
and make a ruler of him, and dishonour the poor man.

They do so.

They next proceed to make a law which fixes a sum of money as
the qualification of citizenship; the sum is higher in one place
and lower in another, as the oligarchy is more or less exclusive;
and they allow no one whose property falls below the amount fixed
to have any share in the government. These changes in the constitution
they effect by force of arms, if intimidation has not already done
their work.

Very true.

And this, speaking generally, is the way in which oligarchy
is established.

Yes, he said; but what are the characteristics of this form
of government, and what are the defects of which we were speaking?

First of all, I said, consider the nature of the qualification
just think what would happen if pilots were to be chosen according
to their property, and a poor man were refused permission to steer,
even though he were a better pilot?

You mean that they would shipwreck?

Yes; and is not this true of the government of anything?

I should imagine so.

Except a city?--or would you include a city?

Nay, he said, the case of a city is the strongest of all,
inasmuch as the rule of a city is the greatest and most difficult
of all.

This, then, will be the first great defect of oligarchy?


And here is another defect which is quite as bad.

What defect?

The inevitable division: such a State is not one, but two States,
the one of poor, the other of rich men; and they are living on
the same spot and always conspiring against one another.

That, surely, is at least as bad.

Another discreditable feature is, that, for a like reason,
they are incapable of carrying on any war. Either they arm
the multitude, and then they are more afraid of them than of
the enemy; or, if they do not call them out in the hour of battle,
they are oligarchs indeed, few to fight as they are few to rule.
And at the same time their fondness for money makes them unwilling
to pay taxes.

How discreditable!

And, as we said before, under such a constitution the same persons
have too many callings--they are husbandmen, tradesmen, warriors,
all in one. Does that look well?

Anything but well.

There is another evil which is, perhaps, the greatest of all,
and to which this State first begins to be liable.

What evil?

A man may sell all that he has, and another may acquire his property;
yet after the sale he may dwell in the city of which he is no longer
a part, being neither trader, nor artisan, nor horseman, nor hoplite,
but only a poor, helpless creature.

Yes, that is an evil which also first begins in this State.

The evil is certainly not prevented there; for oligarchies have
both the extremes of great wealth and utter poverty.


But think again: In his wealthy days, while he was spending
his money, was a man of this sort a whit more good to the State
for the purposes of citizenship? Or did he only seem to be a member
of the ruling body, although in truth he was neither ruler nor subject,
but just a spendthrift?

As you say, he seemed to be a ruler, but was only a spendthrift.

May we not say that this is the drone in the house who is
like the drone in the honeycomb, and that the one is the plague
of the city as the other is of the hive?

Just so, Socrates.

And God has made the flying drones, Adeimantus, all without stings,
whereas of the walking drones he has made some without stings but others
have dreadful stings; of the stingless class are those who in their
old age end as paupers; of the stingers come all the criminal class,
as they are termed.

Most true, he said.

Clearly then, whenever you see paupers in a State, somewhere in
that neighborhood there are hidden away thieves, and cutpurses
and robbers of temples, and all sorts of malefactors.


Well, I said, and in oligarchical States do you not find paupers?

Yes, he said; nearly everybody is a pauper who is not a ruler.

And may we be so bold as to affirm that there are also many
criminals to be found in them, rogues who have stings, and whom
the authorities are careful to restrain by force?

Certainly, we may be so bold.

The existence of such persons is to be attributed to want of education,
ill-training, and an evil constitution of the State?


Such, then, is the form and such are the evils of oligarchy;
and there may be many other evils.

Very likely.

Then oligarchy, or the form of government in which the rulers
are elected for their wealth, may now be dismissed. Let us
next proceed to consider the nature and origin of the individual
who answers to this State.

By all means.

Does not the timocratical man change into the oligarchical on this wise?


A time arrives when the representative of timocracy has a son:
at first he begins by emulating his father and walking in his footsteps,
but presently he sees him of a sudden foundering against the State
as upon a sunken reef, and he and all that he has is lost;
he may have been a general or some other high officer who is brought
to trial under a prejudice raised by informers, and either put to death,
or exiled, or deprived of the privileges of a citizen, and all his
property taken from him.

Nothing more likely.

And the son has seen and known all this--he is a ruined man,
and his fear has taught him to knock ambition and passion head-foremost
from his bosom's throne; humbled by poverty he takes to money-making
and by mean and miserly savings and hard work gets a fortune together.
Is not such an one likely to seat the concupiscent and covetous
element on the vacant throne and to suffer it to play the great king
within him, girt with tiara and chain and scimitar?

Most true, he replied.

And when he has made reason and spirit sit down on the ground obediently
on either side of their sovereign, and taught them to know their place,
he compels the one to think only of how lesser sums may be turned
into larger ones, and will not allow the other to worship and admire
anything but riches and rich men, or to be ambitious of anything
so much as the acquisition of wealth and the means of acquiring it.

Of all changes, he said, there is none so speedy or so sure
as the conversion of the ambitious youth into the avaricious one.

And the avaricious, I said, is the oligarchical youth?

Yes, he said; at any rate the individual out of whom he came
is like the State out of which oligarchy came.

Let us then consider whether there is any likeness between them.

Very good.

First, then, they resemble one another in the value which they set
upon wealth?


Also in their penurious, laborious character; the individual only
satisfies his necessary appetites, and confines his expenditure
to them; his other desires he subdues, under the idea that they
are unprofitable.


He is a shabby fellow, who saves something out of everything and makes
a purse for himself; and this is the sort of man whom the vulgar applaud.
Is he not a true image of the State which he represents?

He appears to me to be so; at any rate money is highly valued
by him as well as by the State.

You see that he is not a man of cultivation, I said.

I imagine not, he said; had he been educated he would never have
made a blind god director of his chorus, or given him chief honour.

Excellent! I said. Yet consider: Must we not further admit
that owing to this want of cultivation there will be found in him
dronelike desires as of pauper and rogue, which are forcibly kept
down by his general habit of life?


Do you know where you will have to look if you want to discover
his rogueries?

Where must I look?

You should see him where he has some great opportunity
of acting dishonestly, as in the guardianship of an orphan.


It will be clear enough then that in his ordinary dealings which
give him a reputation for honesty he coerces his bad passions
by an enforced virtue; not making them see that they are wrong,
or taming them by reason, but by necessity and fear constraining them,
and because he trembles for his possessions.

To be sure.

Yes, indeed, my dear friend, but you will find that the natural
desires of the drone commonly exist in him all the same whenever
he has to spend what is not his own.

Yes, and they will be strong in him too.

The man, then, will be at war with himself; he will be two men,
and not one; but, in general, his better desires will be found
to prevail over his inferior ones.


For these reasons such an one will be more respectable than most people;
yet the true virtue of a unanimous and harmonious soul will flee far
away and never come near him.

I should expect so.

And surely, the miser individually will be an ignoble competitor in a
State for any prize of victory, or other object of honourable ambition;
he will not spend his money in the contest for glory; so afraid
is he of awakening his expensive appetites and inviting them to help
and join in the struggle; in true oligarchical fashion he fights
with a small part only of his resources, and the result commonly
is that he loses the prize and saves his money.

Very true.

Can we any longer doubt, then, that the miser and money-maker
answers to the oligarchical State?

There can be no doubt.

Next comes democracy; of this the origin and nature have still
to be considered by us; and then we will enquire into the ways
of the democratic man, and bring him up for judgement.

That, he said, is our method.

Well, I said, and how does the change from oligarchy into democracy arise?
Is it not on this wise?--The good at which such a State alms
is to become as rich as possible, a desire which is insatiable?

What then?

The rulers, being aware that their power rests upon their wealth,
refuse to curtail by law the extravagance of the spendthrift youth
because they gain by their ruin; they take interest from them and buy
up their estates and thus increase their own wealth and importance?

To be sure.

There can be no doubt that the love of wealth and the spirit
of moderation cannot exist together in citizens of the same State
to any considerable extent; one or the other will be disregarded.

That is tolerably clear.

And in oligarchical States, from the general spread of carelessness
and extravagance, men of good family have often been reduced
to beggary?

Yes, often.

And still they remain in the city; there they are, ready to sting
and fully armed, and some of them owe money, some have forfeited
their citizenship; a third class are in both predicaments;
and they hate and conspire against those who have got their property,
and against everybody else, and are eager for revolution.

That is true.

On the other hand, the men of business, stooping as they walk,
and pretending not even to see those whom they have already ruined,
insert their sting--that is, their money--into some one else who is
not on his guard against them, and recover the parent sum many times
over multiplied into a family of children: and so they make drone
and pauper to abound in the State.

Yes, he said, there are plenty of them--that is certain.

The evil blazes up like a fire; and they will not extinguish it,
either by restricting a man's use of his own property, or by
another remedy:

What other?

One which is the next best, and has the advantage of compelling
the citizens to look to their characters:--Let there be a general rule
that every one shall enter into voluntary contracts at his own risk,
and there will be less of this scandalous money-making, and the evils
of which we were speaking will be greatly lessened in the State.

Yes, they will be greatly lessened.

At present the governors, induced by the motives which I have named,
treat their subjects badly; while they and their adherents,
especially the young men of the governing class, are habituated
to lead a life of luxury and idleness both of body and mind;
they do nothing, and are incapable of resisting either pleasure
or pain.

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?


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, my good Sir, and there will be no better in which to look
for a government.


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

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?


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?


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.


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?


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


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?


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


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?


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?


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.

Very true.

At length they seize upon the citadel of the young man's soul,
which they perceive to be void of all accomplishments and fair
pursuits and true words, which make their abode in the minds of men
who are dear to the gods, and are their best guardians and sentinels.

None better.

False and boastful conceits and phrases mount upwards and take
their place.

They are certain to do so.

And so the young man returns into the country of the lotus-eaters,
and takes up his dwelling there in the face of all men; and if
any help be sent by his friends to the oligarchical part of him,
the aforesaid vain conceits shut the gate of the king's fastness;
and they will neither allow the embassy itself to enter,
private if private advisers offer the fatherly counsel of the aged
will they listen to them or receive them. There is a battle
and they gain the day, and then modesty, which they call silliness,
is ignominiously thrust into exile by them, and temperance,
which they nickname unmanliness, is trampled in the mire and cast forth;
they persuade men that moderation and orderly expenditure are vulgarity
and meanness, and so, by the help of a rabble of evil appetites,
they drive them beyond the border.

Yes, with a will.

And when they have emptied and swept clean the soul of him who is now
in their power and who is being initiated by them in great mysteries,
the next thing is to bring back to their house insolence and
anarchy and waste and impudence in bright array having garlands
on their heads, and a great company with them, hymning their praises
and calling them by sweet names; insolence they term breeding,
and anarchy liberty, and waste magnificence, and impudence courage.
And so the young man passes out of his original nature, which was
trained in the school of necessity, into the freedom and libertinism
of useless and unnecessary pleasures.

Yes, he said, the change in him is visible enough.

After this he lives on, spending his money and labour and time
on unnecessary pleasures quite as much as on necessary ones;
but if he be fortunate, and is not too much disordered in his wits,
when years have elapsed, and the heyday of passion is over--
supposing that he then re-admits into the city some part
of the exiled virtues, and does not wholly give himself up to
their successors--in that case he balances his pleasures and lives
in a sort of equilibrium, putting the government of himself
into the hands of the one which comes first and wins the turn;
and when he has had enough of that, then into the hands of another;
he despises none of them but encourages them all equally.

Very true, he said.

Neither does he receive or let pass into the fortress any true
word of advice; if any one says to him that some pleasures are the
satisfactions of good and noble desires, and others of evil desires,
and that he ought to use and honour some and chastise and master
the others--whenever this is repeated to him he shakes his head
and says that they are all alike, and that one is as good as another.

Yes, he said; that is the way with him.

Yes, I said, he lives from day to day indulging the appetite of the hour;
and sometimes he is lapped in drink and strains of the flute;
then he becomes a water-drinker, and tries to get thin; then he takes
a turn at gymnastics; sometimes idling and neglecting everything,
then once more living the life of a philosopher; often he-is busy
with politics, and starts to his feet and says and does whatever
comes into his head; and, if he is emulous of any one who is
a warrior, off he is in that direction, or of men of business,
once more in that. His life has neither law nor order; and this
distracted existence he terms joy and bliss and freedom; and so he
goes on.

Yes, he replied, he is all liberty and equality.

Yes, I said; his life is motley and manifold and an epitome of the lives
of many;--he answers to the State which we described as fair and spangled.
And many a man and many a woman will take him for their pattern,
and many a constitution and many an example of manners is contained
in him.

Just so.

Let him then be set over against democracy; he may truly be called
the democratic man.

Let that be his place, he said.

Last of all comes the most beautiful of all, man and State alike,
tyranny and the tyrant; these we have now to consider.

Quite true, he said.

Say then, my friend, in what manner does tyranny arise?--that it
has a democratic origin is evident.


And does not tyranny spring from democracy in the same manner
as democracy from oligarchy--I mean, after a sort?


The good which oligarchy proposed to itself and the means
by which it was maintained was excess of wealth--am I not right?


And the insatiable desire of wealth and the neglect of all other
things for the sake of money-getting was also the ruin of oligarchy?


And democracy has her own good, of which the insatiable desire
brings her to dissolution?

What good?

Freedom, I replied; which, as they tell you in a democracy,
is the glory of the State--and that therefore in a democracy alone
will the freeman of nature deign to dwell.

Yes; the saying is in everybody's mouth.

I was going to observe, that the insatiable desire of this and
the neglect of other things introduces the change in democracy,
which occasions a demand for tyranny.

How so?

When a democracy which is thirsting for freedom has evil cupbearers
presiding over the feast, and has drunk too deeply of the strong
wine of freedom, then, unless her rulers are very amenable and give
a plentiful draught, she calls them to account and punishes them,
and says that they are cursed oligarchs.

Yes, he replied, a very common occurrence.

Yes, I said; and loyal citizens are insultingly termed by her
slaves who hug their chains and men of naught; she would have
subjects who are like rulers, and rulers who are like subjects:
these are men after her own heart, whom she praises and honours
both in private and public. Now, in such a State, can liberty
have any limit?

Certainly not.

By degrees the anarchy finds a way into private houses, and ends
by getting among the animals and infecting them.

How do you mean?

I mean that the father grows accustomed to descend to the level of his
sons and to fear them, and the son is on a level with his father,
he having no respect or reverence for either of his parents;
and this is his freedom, and metic is equal with the citizen
and the citizen with the metic, and the stranger is quite as good
as either.

Yes, he said, that is the way.

And these are not the only evils, I said--there are several lesser ones:
In such a state of society the master fears and flatters his scholars,
and the scholars despise their masters and tutors; young and old
are all alike; and the young man is on a level with the old,
and is ready to compete with him in word or deed; and old men
condescend to the young and are full of pleasantry and gaiety;
they are loth to be thought morose and authoritative, and therefore they
adopt the manners of the young.

Quite true, he said.

The last extreme of popular liberty is when the slave bought with money,
whether male or female, is just as free as his or her purchaser;
nor must I forget to tell of the liberty and equality of the two sexes
in relation to each other.

Why not, as Aeschylus says, utter the word which rises to our lips?

That is what I am doing, I replied; and I must add that no one
who does not know would believe, how much greater is the liberty
which the animals who are under the dominion of man have in a democracy
than in any other State: for truly, the she-dogs, as the proverb says,
are as good as their she-mistresses, and the horses and asses have
a way of marching along with all the rights and dignities of freemen;
and they will run at anybody who comes in their way if he does
not leave the road clear for them: and all things are just ready
to burst with liberty.

When I take a country walk, he said, I often experience what you describe.
You and I have dreamed the same thing.

And above all, I said, and as the result of all, see how sensitive
the citizens become; they chafe impatiently at the least touch
of authority and at length, as you know, they cease to care even
for the laws, written or unwritten; they will have no one over them.

Yes, he said, I know it too well.

Such, my friend, I said, is the fair and glorious beginning
out of which springs tyranny.

Glorious indeed, he said. But what is the next step?

The ruin of oligarchy is the ruin of democracy; the same disease
magnified and intensified by liberty overmasters democracy--
the truth being that the excessive increase of anything often
causes a reaction in the opposite direction; and this is the case
not only in the seasons and in vegetable and animal life, but above
all in forms of government.


The excess of liberty, whether in States or individuals,
seems only to pass into excess of slavery.

Yes, the natural order.

And so tyranny naturally arises out of democracy, and the most
aggravated form of tyranny and slavery out of the most extreme
form of liberty?

As we might expect.

That, however, was not, as I believe, your question-you rather
desired to know what is that disorder which is generated alike
in oligarchy and democracy, and is the ruin of both?

Just so, he replied.

Well, I said, I meant to refer to the class of idle spendthrifts,
of whom the more courageous are the-leaders and the more timid
the followers, the same whom we were comparing to drones, some stingless,
and others having stings.

A very just comparison.

These two classes are the plagues of every city in which they
are generated, being what phlegm and bile are to the body.
And the good physician and lawgiver of the State ought, like the wise
bee-master, to keep them at a distance and prevent, if possible,
their ever coming in; and if they have anyhow found a way in,
then he should have them and their cells cut out as speedily
as possible.

Yes, by all means, he said.

Then, in order that we may see clearly what we are doing, let us
imagine democracy to be divided, as indeed it is, into three classes;
for in the first place freedom creates rather more drones in
the democratic than there were in the oligarchical State.

That is true.

And in the democracy they are certainly more intensified.

How so?

Because in the oligarchical State they are disqualified and driven
from office, and therefore they cannot train or gather strength;
whereas in a democracy they are almost the entire ruling power,
and while the keener sort speak and act, the rest keep buzzing
about the bema and do not suffer a word to be said on the other side;
hence in democracies almost everything is managed by the drones.

Very true, he said.

Then there is another class which is always being severed from
the mass.

What is that?

They are the orderly class, which in a nation of traders sure
to be the richest.

Naturally so.

They are the most squeezable persons and yield the largest amount
of honey to the drones.

Why, he said, there is little to be squeezed out of people
who have little.

And this is called the wealthy class, and the drones feed upon them.

That is pretty much the case, he said.

The people are a third class, consisting of those who work with their
own hands; they are not politicians, and have not much to live upon.
This, when assembled, is the largest and most powerful class in a democracy.

True, he said; but then the multitude is seldom willing to congregate
unless they get a little honey.

And do they not share? I said. Do not their leaders deprive
the rich of their estates and distribute them among the people;
at the same time taking care to reserve the larger part for themselves?

Why, yes, he said, to that extent the people do share.

And the persons whose property is taken from them are compelled
to defend themselves before the people as they best can?

What else can they do?

And then, although they may have no desire of change, the others
charge them with plotting against the people and being friends
of oligarchy? True.

And the end is that when they see the people, not of their own accord,
but through ignorance, and because they are deceived by informers,
seeking to do them wrong, then at last they are forced to become
oligarchs in reality; they do not wish to be, but the sting of
the drones torments them and breeds revolution in them.

That is exactly the truth.

Then come impeachments and judgments and trials of one another.


The people have always some champion whom they set over them
and nurse into greatness.

Yes, that is their way.

This and no other is the root from which a tyrant springs;
when he first appears above ground he is a protector.

Yes, that is quite clear.

How then does a protector begin to change into a tyrant?
Clearly when he does what the man is said to do in the tale
of the Arcadian temple of Lycaean Zeus.

What tale?

The tale is that he who has tasted the entrails of a single human
victim minced up with the entrails of other victims is destined
to become a wolf. Did you never hear it?

Oh, yes.

And the protector of the people is like him; having a mob entirely at
his disposal, he is not restrained from shedding the blood of kinsmen;
by the favourite method of false accusation he brings them into
court and murders them, making the life of man to disappear,
and with unholy tongue and lips tasting the blood of his fellow citizen;
some he kills and others he banishes, at the same time hinting
at the abolition of debts and partition of lands: and after this,
what will be his destiny? Must he not either perish at the hands
of his enemies, or from being a man become a wolf--that is,
a tyrant?


This, I said, is he who begins to make a party against the rich?

The same.

After a while he is driven out, but comes back, in spite of his enemies,
a tyrant full grown.

That is clear.

And if they are unable to expel him, or to get him condemned
to death by a public accusation, they conspire to assassinate him.

Yes, he said, that is their usual way.

Then comes the famous request for a bodyguard, which is the device
of all those who have got thus far in their tyrannical career--`Let
not the people's friend,' as they say, `be lost to them.'


The people readily assent; all their fears are for him--
they have none for themselves.

Very true.

And when a man who is wealthy and is also accused of being an enemy
of the people sees this, then, my friend, as the oracle said to Croesus,

By pebbly Hermus' shore he flees and rests not and is not
ashamed to be a coward.

And quite right too, said he, for if he were, he would never be
ashamed again.

But if he is caught he dies.

Of course.

And he, the protector of whom we spoke, is to be seen, not `larding
the plain' with his bulk, but himself the overthrower of many,
standing up in the chariot of State with the reins in his hand,
no longer protector, but tyrant absolute.

No doubt, he said.

And now let us consider the happiness of the man, and also
of the State in which a creature like him is generated.

Yes, he said, let us consider that.

At first, in the early days of his power, he is full of smiles,
and he salutes every one whom he meets;--he to be called a tyrant,
who is making promises in public and also in private! liberating debtors,
and distributing land to the people and his followers, and wanting
to be so kind and good to every one!

Of course, he said.

But when he has disposed of foreign enemies by conquest or treaty,
and there is nothing to fear from them, then he is always stirring up
some war or other, in order that the people may require a leader.

To be sure.

Has he not also another object, which is that they may be impoverished
by payment of taxes, and thus compelled to devote themselves to their
daily wants and therefore less likely to conspire against him? Clearly.

And if any of them are suspected by him of having notions of freedom,
and of resistance to his authority, he will have a good pretext
for destroying them by placing them at the mercy of the enemy;
and for all these reasons the tyrant must be always getting up
a war.

He must.

Now he begins to grow unpopular.

A necessary result.

Then some of those who joined in setting him up, and who are in power,
speak their minds to him and to one another, and the more courageous
of them cast in his teeth what is being done.

Yes, that may be expected.

And the tyrant, if he means to rule, must get rid of them; he cannot
stop while he has a friend or an enemy who is good for anything.

He cannot.

And therefore he must look about him and see who is valiant,
who is high-minded, who is wise, who is wealthy; happy man,
he is the enemy of them all, and must seek occasion against them
whether he will or no, until he has made a purgation of the State.

Yes, he said, and a rare purgation.

Yes, I said, not the sort of purgation which the physicians make
of the body; for they take away the worse and leave the better part,
but he does the reverse.

If he is to rule, I suppose that he cannot help himself.

What a blessed alternative, I said:--to be compelled to dwell only
with the many bad, and to be by them hated, or not to live at all!

Yes, that is the alternative.

And the more detestable his actions are to the citizens the more
satellites and the greater devotion in them will he require?


And who are the devoted band, and where will he procure them?

They will flock to him, he said, of their own accord, if lie pays them.

By the dog! I said, here are more drones, of every sort and from
every land.

Yes, he said, there are.

But will he not desire to get them on the spot?

How do you mean?

He will rob the citizens of their slaves; he will then set them
free and enrol them in his bodyguard.

To be sure, he said; and he will be able to trust them best of all.

What a blessed creature, I said, must this tyrant be; he has put
to death the others and has these for his trusted friends.

Yes, he said; they are quite of his sort.

Yes, I said, and these are the new citizens whom he has
called into existence, who admire him and are his companions,
while the good hate and avoid him.

Of course.

Verily, then, tragedy is a wise thing and Euripides a great tragedian.

Why so?

Why, because he is the author of the pregnant saying,

Tyrants are wise by living with the wise;

and he clearly meant to say that they are the wise whom the tyrant
makes his companions.

Yes, he said, and he also praises tyranny as godlike; and many other
things of the same kind are said by him and by the other poets.

And therefore, I said, the tragic poets being wise men will forgive
us and any others who live after our manner if we do not receive
them into our State, because they are the eulogists of tyranny.

Yes, he said, those who have the wit will doubtless forgive us.

But they will continue to go to other cities and attract mobs,
and hire voices fair and loud and persuasive, and draw the cities
over to tyrannies and democracies.

Very true.

Moreover, they are paid for this and receive honour--the greatest honour,
as might be expected, from tyrants, and the next greatest
from democracies; but the higher they ascend our constitution hill,
the more their reputation fails, and seems unable from shortness
of breath to proceed further.


But we are wandering from the subject: Let us therefore return

Book of the day:
Facebook Google Reddit StumbleUpon Twitter Pinterest