(SOCRATES, GLAUCON.)
AND now, I said, let me show in a figure how
far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened: Behold! human beings living in an
underground den, which has a mouth open toward the light and reaching all along the den;
here they have been from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so that
they cannot move, and can only see before them, being prevented by the chains from turning
round their heads. Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and between the
fire and the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you look, a low wall
built along the way, like the screen which marionette-players have in front of them, over
which they show the puppets.
I see.
2 And do you see, I said, men passing along
the wall carrying all sorts of vessels, and statues and figures of animals made of wood
and stone and various materials, which appear over the wall? Some of them are talking,
others silent.
You have shown me a strange image, and they
are strange prisoners.
Like ourselves, I replied; and they see only
their own shadows, or the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on the opposite
wall of the cave?
3 True, he said; how could they see anything
but the shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads?
And of the objects which are being carried
in like manner they would only see the shadows?
Yes, he said.
And if they were able to converse with one
another, would they not suppose that they were naming what was actually before them?
Very true.
4 And suppose further that the prison had an
echo which came from the other side, would they not be sure to fancy when one of the
passers-by spoke that the voice which they heard came from the passing shadow?
No question, he replied.
To them, I said, the truth would be
literally nothing but the shadows of the images.
That is certain.
5 And now look again, and see what will
naturally follow if the prisoners are released and disabused of their error. At first,
when any of them is liberated and compelled suenly to stand up and turn his neck round
and walk and look toward the light, he will suffer sharp pains; the glare will distress
him, and he will be unable to see the realities of which in his former state he had seen
the shadows; and then conceive someone saying to him, that what he saw before was an
illusion, but that now, when he is approaching nearer to being and his eye is turned
toward more real existence, he has a clearer vision--what will be his reply? And you may
further imagine that his instructor is pointing to the objects as they pass and requiring
him to name them--will he not be perplexed? Will he not fancy that the shadows which he
formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now shown to him?
Far truer.
6 And if he is compelled to look straight at
the light, will he not have a pain in his eyes which will make him turn away to take
refuge in the objects of vision which he can see, and which he will conceive to be in
reality clearer than the things which are now being shown to him?
True, he said.
7 And suppose once more, that he is
reluctantly dragged up a steep and rugged ascent, and held fast until he is forced into
the presence of the sun himself, is he not likely to be pained and irritated? When he
approaches the light his eyes will be dazzled, and he will not be able to see anything at
all of what are now called realities.
Not all in a moment, he said.
8 He will require to grow accustomed to the
sight of the upper world. And first he will see the shadows best, next the reflections of
men and other objects in the water, and then the objects themselves; then he will gaze
upon the light of the moon and the stars and the spangled heaven; and he will see the sky
and the stars by night better than the sun or the light of the sun by day?
Certainly.
Last of all he will be able to see the sun,
and not mere reflections of him in the water, but he will see him in his own proper place,
and not in another; and he will contemplate him as he is.
Certainly.
9 He will then proceed to argue that this is
he who gives the season and the years, and is the guardian of all that is in the visible
world, and in a certain way the cause of all things which he and his fellows have been
accustomed to behold?
Clearly, he said, he would first see the sun
and then reason about him.
10 And when he remembered his old
habitation, and the wisdom of the den and his fellow-prisoners, do you not suppose that he
would felicitate himself on the change, and pity him?
Certainly, he would.
11 And if they were in the habit of
conferring honors among themselves on those who were quickest to observe the passing
shadows and to remark which of them went before, and which followed after, and which were
together; and who were therefore best able to draw conclusions as to the future, do you
think that he would care for such honors and glories, or envy the possessors of them?
Would he not say with Homer,
"Better to be the poor servant of a
poor master,"
and to endure anything, rather than think as
they do and live after their manner?
Yes, he said, I think that he would rather
suffer anything than entertain these false notions and live in this miserable manner.
Imagine once more, I said, such a one coming
suddenly out of the sun to be replaced in his old situation; would he not be certain to
have his eyes full of darkness?
To be sure, he said.
12 And if there were a contest, and he had
to compete in measuring the shadows with the prisoners who had never moved out of the den,
while his sight was still weak, and before his eyes had become steady (and the time which
would be needed to acquire this new habit of sight might be very considerable), would he
not be ridiculous? Men would say of him that up he went and down he came without his eyes;
and that it was better not even to think of ascending; and if anyone tried to loose
another and lead him up to the light, let them only catch the offender, and they would put
him to death.
No question, he said.
13 This entire allegory, I said, you may now
append, dear Glaucon, to the previous argument; the prison-house is the world of sight,
the light of the fire is the sun, and you will not misapprehend me if you interpret the
journey upward to be the ascent of the soul into the intellectual world according to my
poor belief, which, at your desire, I have expressed--whether rightly or wrongly, God
knows. But, whether true or false, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea
of good appears last of all, and is seen only with an effort; and, when seen, is also
inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and
of the lord of light in this visible world, and the immediate source of reason and truth
in the intellectual; and that this is the power upon which he who would act rationally
either in public or private life must have his eye fixed.
I agree, he said, as far as I am able to
understand you.
14 Moreover, I said, you must not wonder
that those who attain to this beatific vision are unwilling to descend to human affairs;
for their souls are ever hastening into the upper world where they desire to dwell; which
desire of theirs is very natural, if our allegory may be trusted.
Yes, very natural.
15 And is there anything surprising in one
who passes from divine contemplations to the evil state of man, misbehaving himself in a
ridiculous manner; if, while his eyes are blinking and before he has become accustomed to
the surrounding darkness, he is compelled to fight in courts of law, or in other places,
about the images or the shadows of images of justice, and is endeavoring to meet the
conceptions of those who have never yet seen absolute justice?
16 Anything but surprising, he replied.
Anyone who has common-sense will remember that the bewilderments of the eyes are of two
kinds, and arise from two causes, either from coming out of the light or from going into
the light, which is true of the mind's eye, quite as much as of the bodily eye; and he who
remembers this when he sees anyone whose vision is perplexed and weak, will not be too
ready to laugh; he will first ask whether that soul of man has come out of the brighter
life, and is unable to see because unaccustomed to the dark, or having turned from
darkness to the day is dazzled by excess of light. And he will count the one happy in his
condition and state of being, and he will pity the other; or, if he have a mind to laugh
at the soul which comes from below into the light, there will be more reason in this than
in the laugh which greets him who returns from above out of the light into the den.
That, he said, is a very just distinction.
But then, if I am right, certain professors
of education must be wrong when they say that they can put a knowledge into the soul which
was not there before, like sight into blind eyes.
They undoubtedly say this, he replied.
17 Whereas, our argument shows that the
power and capacity of learning exists in the soul already; and that just as the eye was
unable to turn from darkness to light without the whole body, so too the instrument of
knowledge can only by the movement of the whole soul be turned from the world of becoming
into that of being, and learn by degrees to endure the sight of being, and of the
brightest and best of being, or, in other words, of the good.
Very true.
18 And must there not be some art which will
effect conversion in the easiest and quickest manner; not implanting the faculty of sight,
for that exists already, but has been turned in the wrong direction, and is looking away
from the truth?
Yes, he said, such an art may be presumed.
19 And whereas the other so-called virtues
of the soul seem to be akin to bodily qualities, for even when they are not originally
innate they can be implanted later by habit and exercise, the virtue of wisdom more than
anything else contains a divine element which always remains, and by this conversion is
rendered useful and profitable; or, on the other hand, hurtful and useless. Did you never
observe the narrow intelligence flashing from the keen eye of a clever rogue--how eager he
is, how clearly his paltry soul sees the way to his end; he is the reverse of blind, but
his keen eyesight is forced into the service of evil, and he is mischievous in proportion
to his cleverness?
Very true, he said.
20 But what if there had been a circumcision
of such natures in the days of their youth; and they had been severed from those sensual
pleasures, such as eating and drinking, which, like leaden weights, were attached to them
at their birth, and which drag them down and turn the vision of their souls upon the
things that are below--if, I say, they had been released from these impediments and turned
in the opposite direction, the very same faculty in them would have seen the truth as
keenly as they see what their eyes are turned to now.
Very likely.
21 Yes, I said; and there is another thing
which is likely, or rather a necessary inference from what has preceded, that neither the
uneducated and uninformed of the truth, nor yet those who never make an end of their
education, will be able ministers of the State; not the former, because they have no
single aim of duty which is the rule of all their actions, private as well as public; nor
the latter, because they will not act at all except upon compulsion, fancying that they
are already dwelling apart in the islands of the blessed.
Very true, he replied.
22 Then, I said, the business of us who are
the founders of the State will be to compel the best minds to attain that knowledge which
we have already shown to be the greatest of all--they must continue to ascend until they
arrive at the good; but when they have ascended and seen enough we must not allow them to
do as they do now.
What do you mean?
23 I mean that they remain in the upper
world: but this must not be allowed; they must be made to descend again among the
prisoners in the den, and partake of their labors and honors, whether they are worth
having or not.
But is not this unjust? he said; ought we to
give them a worse life, when they might have a better?
24 You have again forgotten, my friend, I
said, the intention of the legislator, who did not aim at making any one class in the
State happy above the rest; the happiness was to be in the whole State, and he held the
citizens together by persuasion and necessity, making them benefactors of the State, and
therefore benefactors of one another; to this end he created them, not to please
themselves, but to be his instruments in binding up the State.
True, he said, I had forgotten.
25 Observe, Glaucon, that there will be no
injustice in compelling our philosophers to have a care and providence of others; we shall
explain to them that in other States, men of their class are not obliged to share in the
toils of politics: and this is reasonable, for they grow up at their own sweet will, and
the government would rather not have them. Being self-taught, they cannot be expected to
show any gratitude for a culture which they have never received. But we have brought you
into the world to be rulers of the hive, kings of yourselves and of the other citizens,
and have educated you far better and more perfectly than they have been educated, and you
are better able to share in the double duty. Wherefore each of you, when his turn comes,
must go down to the general underground abode, and get the habit of seeing in the dark.
When you have acquired the habit, you will see ten thousand times better than the
inhabitants of the den, and you will know what the several images are, and what they
represent, because you have seen the beautiful and just and good in their truth. And thus
our State, which is also yours, will be a reality, and not a dream only, and will be
administered in a spirit unlike that of other States, in which men fight with one another
about shadows only and are distracted in the struggle for power, which in their eyes is a
great good. Whereas the truth is that the State in which the rulers are most reluctant to
govern is always the best and most quietly governed, and the State in which they are most
eager, the worst.
Quite true, he replied.
26 And will our pupils, when they hear this,
refuse to take their turn at the toils of State, when they are allowed to spend the
greater part of their time with one another in the heavenly light?
27 Impossible, he answered; for they are
just men, and the commands which we impose upon them are just; there can be no doubt that
every one of them will take office as a stern necessity, and not after the fashion of our
present rulers of State.
Yes, my friend, I said; and there lies the
point. You must contrive for your future rulers another and a better life than that of a
ruler, and then you may have a well-ordered State; for only in the State which offers
this, will they rule who are truly rich, not in silver and gold, but in virtue and wisdom,
which are the true blessings of life. Whereas, if they go to the administration of public
affairs, poor and hungering after their own private advantage, thinking that hence they
are to snatch the chief good, order there can never be; for they will be fighting about
office, and the civil and domestic broils which thus arise will be the ruin of the rulers
themselves and of the whole State.
Most true, he replied.
And the only life which looks down upon the
life of political ambition is that of true philosophy. Do you know of any other?
Indeed, I do not, he said.
28 And those who govern ought not to be
lovers of the task? For, if they are, there will be rival lovers, and they will fight.
No question. Who, then, are those whom we
shall compel to be guardians? Surely they will be the men who are wisest about affairs of
State, and by whom the State is best administered, and who at the same time have other
honors and another and a better life than that of politics?
They are the men, and I will choose them, he
replied.
29 And now shall we consider in what way
such guardians will be produced, and how they are to be brought from darkness to light--as
some are said to have ascended from the world below to the gods?
By all means, he replied.
30 The process, I said, is not the turning
over of an oystershell, but the turning round of a soul passing from a day which is little
better than night to the true day of being, that is, the ascent from below, which we
affirm to be true philosophy?
Quite so.
And should we not inquire what sort of
knowledge has the power of effecting such a change?
Certainly.
31 What sort of knowledge is there which
would draw the soul from becoming to being? And another consideration has just occurred to
me: You will remember that our young men are to be warrior athletes?
Yes, that was said.
Then this new kind of knowledge must have an
additional quality?
What quality?
Usefulness in war.
Yes, if possible.
There were two parts in our former scheme of
education, were there not?
Just so.
32 There was gymnastics, which presided over
the growth and decay of the body, and may therefore be regarded as having to do with
generation and corruption?
True.
Then that is not the knowledge which we are
seeking to discover? No.
But what do you say of music, what also
entered to a certain extent into our former scheme?
33 Music, he said, as you will remember, was
the counterpart of gymnastics, and trained the guardians by the influences of habit, by
harmony making them harmonious, by rhythm rhythmical, but not giving them science; and the
words, whether fabulous or possibly true, had kindred elements of rhythm and harmony in
them. But in music there was nothing which tended to that good which you are now seeking.
34 You are most accurate, I said, in your
recollection; in music there certainly was nothing of the kind. But what branch of
knowledge is there, my dear Glaucon, which is of the desired nature; since all the useful
arts were reckoned mean by us?
Undoubtedly; and yet if music and gymnastics
are excluded, and the arts are also excluded, what remains?
Well, I said, there may be nothing left of
our special subjects; and then we shall have to take something which is not special, but
of the universal application.
What may that be?
A something which all arts and sciences and
intelligences use in common, and which everyone first has to learn among the elements of
education.
What is that?
35 The little matter of distinguishing one,
two, and three--in a word, number and calculation: do not all arts and sciences
necessarily partake of them?
Yes.
Then the art of war partakes of them?
To be sure.
36 Then Palamedes, whenever he appears in
tragedy, proves Agamemnon ridiculously unfit to be a general. Did you never remark how he
declares that he had invented number, and had numbered the ships and set in array the
ranks of the army at Troy; which implies that they had never been numbered before, and
Agamemnon must be supposed literally to have been incapable of counting his own fleet--how
could he if he was ignorant of number? And if that is true, what sort of general must he
have been?
I should say a very strange one, if this was
as you say.
Can we deny that a warrior should have a
knowledge of arithmetic?
Certainly he should, if he is to have the
smallest understanding of military tactics, or indeed, I should rather say, if he is to be
a man at all.
I should like to know whether you have the
same notion which I have of this study?
What is your notion?
37 It appears to me to be a study of the
kind which we are seeking, and which leads naturally to reflection, but never to have been
rightly used; for the true use of it is simply to draw the soul toward being.
Will you explain your meaning? he said.
38 I will try, I said; and I wish you would
share the inquiry with me, and say "yes" or "no" when I attempt to
distinguish in my own mind what branches of knowledge have this attracting power, in order
that we may have clearer proof that arithmetic is, as I suspect, one of them.
Explain, he said.
39 I mean to say that objects of sense are
of two kinds; some of them do not invite thought because the sense is an adequate judge of
them; while in the case of other objects sense is so untrustworthy that further inquiry is
imperatively demanded.
You are clearly referring, he said, to the
manner in which the senses are imposed upon by distance, and by painting in light and
shade.
No, I said, that is not at all my meaning.
Then what is your meaning?
40 When speaking of uninviting objects, I
mean those which do not pass from one sensation to the opposite; inviting objects are
those which do; in this latter case the sense coming upon the object, whether at a
distance or near, gives no more vivid idea of anything in particular than of its opposite.
An illustration will make my meaning clearer: here are three fingers-- a little finger, a
second finger, and a middle finger.
Very good.
You may suppose that they are seen quite
close: And here comes the point.
What is it?
41 Each of them equally appears a finger,
whether seen in the middle or at the extremity, whether white or black, or thick or
thin--it makes no difference; a finger is a finger all the same. In these cases a man is
not compelled to ask of thought the question, What is a finger? for the sight never
intimates to the mind that a finger is other than a finger.
True.
And therefore, I said, as we might expect,
there is nothing here which invites or excites intelligence.
There is not, he said.
42 But is this equally true of the greatness
and smallness of the fingers? Can sight adequately perceive them? and is no difference
made by the circumstance that one of the fingers is in the middle and the other at the
extremity? And in like manner does the touch adequately perceive the qualities of
thickness or thinness, of softness or hardness? And so of the other senses; do they give
perfect intimations of such matters? Is not their mode of operation on this wise--the
sense which is concerned with the quality of hardness is necessarily concerned also with
the quality of softness, and only intimates to the soul that the same thing is felt to be
both hard and soft?
You are quite right, he said.
43 And must not the soul be perplexed at
this intimation which the sense gives of a hard which is also soft? What, again, is the
meaning of light and heavy, if that which is light is also heavy, and that which is heavy,
light?
Yes, he said, these intimations which the
soul receives are very curious and require to be explained.
Yes, I said, and in these perplexities the
soul naturally summons to her aid calculation and intelligence, that she may see whether
the several objects announced to her are one or two.
True.
And if they turn out to be two, is not each
of them one and different?
Certainly.
44 And if each is one, and both are two, she
will conceive the two as in a state of division, for if they were undivided they could
only be conceived of as one?
True.
The eye certainly did see both small and
great, but only in a confused manner; they were not distinguished.
Yes.
45 Whereas the thinking mind, intending to
light up the chaos, was compelled to reverse the process, and look at small and great as
separate and not confused.
Very true.
Was not this the beginning of the inquiry,
"What is great?" and "What is small?"
Exactly so.
And thus arose the distinction of the
visible and the intelligible.
Most true.
46 This was what I meant when I spoke of
impressions which invited the intellect, or the reverse--those which are simultaneous with
opposite impressions, invite thought; those which are not simultaneous do not.
I understand, he said, and agree with you.
And to which class do unity and number
belong?
I do not know, he replied.
47 Think a little and you will see that what
has preceded will supply the answer; for if simple unity could be adequately perceived by
the sight or by any other sense, then, as we were saying in the case of the finger, there
would be nothing to attract toward being; but when there is some contradiction always
present, and one is the reverse of one and involves the conception of plurality, then
thought begins to be aroused within us, and the soul perplexed and wanting to arrive at a
decision asks, "What is absolute unity?" This is the way in which the study of
the one has a power of drawing and converting the mind to the contemplation of true being.
And surely, he said, this occurs notably in
the case of one; for we see the same thing to be both one and infinite in multitude?
Yes, I said; and this being true of one must
be equally true of all number?
Certainly.
And all arithmetic and calculation have to
do with number?
Yes.
And they appear to lead the mind toward
truth?
Yes, in a very remarkable manner.
48 Then this is knowledge of the kind for
which we are seeking, having a double use, military and philosophical; for the man of war
must learn the art of number or he will not know how to array his troops, and the
philosopher also, because he has to rise out of the sea of change and lay hold of true
being, and therefore he must be an arithmetician.
That is true.
And our guardian is both warrior and
philosopher?
Certainly.
49 Then this is a kind of knowledge which
legislation may fitly prescribe; and we must endeavor to persuade those who are to be the
principal men of our State to go and learn arithmetic, not as amateurs, but they must
carry on the study until they see the nature of numbers with the mind only; nor again,
like merchants or retail-traders, with a view to buying or selling, but for the sake of
their military use, and of the soul herself; and because this will be the easiest way for
her to pass from becoming to truth and being.
That is excellent, he said.
Yes, I said, and now having spoken of it, I
must add how charming the science is! and in how many ways it conduces to our desired end,
if pursued in the spirit of a philosopher, and not of a shopkeeper!
How do you mean?
50 I mean, as I was saying, that arithmetic
has a very great and elevating effect, compelling the soul to reason about abstract
number, and rebelling against the introduction of visible or tangible objects into the
argument. You know how steadily the masters of the art repel and ridicule anyone who
attempts to divide absolute unity when he is calculating, and if you divide, they
multiply, taking care that one shall continue one and not become lost in fractions.
That is very true.
51 Now, suppose a person were to say to
them: O my friends, what are these wonderful numbers about which you are reasoning, in
which, as you say, there is a unity such as you demand, and each unit is equal,
invariable, indivisible--what would they answer?
They would answer, as I should conceive,
that they were speaking of those numbers which can only be realized in thought.
Then you see that this knowledge may be
truly called necessary, necessitating as it clearly does the use of the pure intelligence
in the attainment of pure truth?
Yes; that is a marked characteristic of it.
52 And have you further observed that those
who have a natural talent for calculation are generally quick at every other kind of
knowledge; and even the dull, if they have had an arithmetical training, although they may
derive no other advantage from it, always become much quicker than they would otherwise
have been?
Very true, he said.
And indeed, you will not easily find a more
difficult study, and not many as difficult.
You will not.
53 And, for all these reasons, arithmetic is
a kind of knowledge in which the best natures should be trained, and which must not be
given up.
I agree.
Let this then be made one of our subjects of
education. And next, shall we inquire whether the kindred science also concerns us?
You mean geometry?
Exactly so.
54 Clearly, he said, we are concerned with
that part of geometry which relates to war; for in pitching a camp or taking up a position
or closing or extending the lines of an army, or any other military manoeuvre, whether in
actual battle or on a march, it will make all the difference whether a general is or is
not a geometrician.
55 Yes, I said, but for that purpose a very
little of either geometry or calculation will be enough; the question relates rather to
the greater and more advanced part of geometry--whether that tends in any degree to make
more easy the vision of the idea of good; and thither, as I was saying, all things tend
which compel the soul to turn her gaze toward that place, where is the full perfection of
being, which she ought, by all means, to behold.
True, he said.
Then if geometry compels us to view being,
it concerns us; if becoming only, it does not concern us?
Yes, that is what we assert.
56 Yet anybody who has the least
acquaintance with geometry will not deny that such a conception of the science is in flat
contradiction to the ordinary language of geometricians.
How so?
57 They have in view practice only, and are
always speaking, in a narrow and ridiculous manner, of squaring and extending and applying
and the like--they confuse the necessities of geometry with those of daily life; whereas
knowledge is the real object of the whole science.
Certainly, he said.
Then must not a further admission be made?
What admission?
That the knowledge at which geometry aims is
knowledge of the eternal, and not of aught perishing and transient.
That, he replied, may be readily allowed,
and is true.
58 Then, my noble friend, geometry will draw
the soul toward truth, and create the spirit of philosophy, and raise up that which is now
unhappily allowed to fall down.
Nothing will be more likely to have such an
effect.
Then nothing should be more sternly laid
down than that the inhabitants of your fair city should by all means learn geometry.
Moreover, the science has indirect effects, which are not small.
Of what kind? he said.
59 There are the military advantages of
which you spoke, I said; and in all departments of knowledge, as experience proves, anyone
who has studied geometry is infinitely quicker of apprehension than one who has not. Yes,
indeed, he said, there is an infinite difference between them.
Then shall we propose this as a second
branch of knowledge which our youth will study?
Let us do so, he replied.
And suppose we make astronomy the
third--what do you say?
I am strongly inclined to it, he said; the
observation of the seasons and of months and years is as essential to the general as it is
to the farmer or sailor.
60 I am amused, I said, at your fear of the
world, which makes you guard against the appearance of insisting upon useless studies; and
I quite admit the difficulty of believing that in every man there is an eye of the soul
which, when by other pursuits lost and dimmed, is by these purified and reillumined; and
is more precious far than ten thousand bodily eyes, for by it alone is truth seen. Now
there are two classes of persons: one class of those who will agree with you and will take
your words as a revelation; another class to whom they will be utterly unmeaning, and who
will naturally deem them to be idle tales, for they see no sort of profit which is to be
obtained from them. And therefore you had better decide at once with which of the two you
are proposing to argue. You will very likely say with neither, and that your chief aim in
carrying on the argument is your own improvement; at the same time you do not grudge to
others any benefit which they may receive.
I think that I should prefer to carry on the
argument mainly on my own behalf.
Then take a step backward, for we have gone
wrong in the order of the sciences.
What was the mistake? he said.
61 After plane geometry, I said, we
proceeded at once to solids in revolution, instead of taking solids in themselves; whereas
after the second dimension, the third, which is concerned with cubes and dimensions of
depth, ought to have followed.
That is true, Socrates; but so little seems
to be known as yet about these subjects.
62 Why, yes, I said, and for two reasons: in
the first place, no government patronizes them; this leads to a want of energy in the
pursuit of them, and they are difficult; in the second place, students cannot learn them
unless they have a director. But then a director can hardly be found, and, even if he
could, as matters now stand, the students, who are very conceited, would not attend to
him. That, however, would be otherwise if the whole State became the director of these
studies and gave honor to them; then disciples would want to come, and there would be
continuous and earnest search, and discoveries would be made; since even now, disregarded
as they are by the world, and maimed of their fair proportions, and although none of their
votaries can tell the use of them, still these studies force their way by their natural
charm, and very likely, if they had the help of the State, they would some day emerge into
light.
Yes, he said, there is a remarkable charm in
them. But I do not clearly understand the change in the order. First you began with a
geometry of plane surfaces?
Yes, I said.
And you placed astronomy next, and then you
made a step backward?
63 Yes, and I have delayed you by my hurry;
the ludicrous state of solid geometry, which, in natural order, should have followed, made
me pass over this branch and go on to astronomy, or motion of solids.
True, he said.
Then assuming that the science now omitted
would come into existence if encouraged by the State, let us go on to astronomy, which
will be fourth.
64 The right order, he replied. And now,
Socrates, as you rebuked the vulgar manner in which I praised astronomy before, my praise
shall be given in your own spirit. For everyone, as I think, must see that astronomy
compels the soul to look upward and leads us from this world to another. Everyone but
myself, I said; to everyone else this may be clear, but not to me.
And what, then, would you say?
I should rather say that those who elevate
astronomy into philosophy appear to me to make us look downward, and not upward.
What do you mean? he asked.
65 You, I replied, have in your mind a truly
sublime conception of our knowledge of the things above. And I dare say that if a person
were to throw his head back and study the fretted ceiling, you would still think that his
mind was the percipient, and not his eyes. And you are very likely right, and I may be a
simpleton: but, in my opinion, that knowledge only which is of being and of the unseen can
make the soul look upward, and whether a man gapes at the heavens or blinks on the ground,
seeking to learn some particular of sense, I would deny that he can learn, for nothing of
that sort is matter of science; his soul is looking downward, not upward, whether his way
to knowledge is by water or by land, whether he floats or only lies on his back.
I acknowledge, he said, the justice of your
rebuke. Still, I should like to ascertain how astronomy can be learned in any manner more
conducive to that knowledge of which we are speaking?
66 I will tell you, I said: The starry
heaven which we behold is wrought upon a visible ground, and therefore, although the
fairest and most perfect of visible things, must necessarily be deemed inferior far to the
true motions of absolute swiftness and absolute slowness, which are relative to each
other, and carry with them that which is contained in them, in the true number and in
every true figure. Now, these are to be apprehended by reason and intelligence, but not by
sight.
True, he replied.
67 The spangled heavens should be used as a
pattern and with a view to that higher knowledge; their beauty is like the beauty of
figures or pictures excellently wrought by the hand of Daedalus, or some other great
artist, which we may chance to behold; any geometrician who saw them would appreciate the
exquisiteness of their workmanship, but he would never dream of thinking that in them he
could find the true equal or the true double, or the truth of any other proportion.
No, he replied, such an idea would be
ridiculous.
68 And will not a true astronomer have the
same feeling when he looks at the movements of the stars? Will he not think that heaven
and the things in heaven are framed by the Creator of them in the most perfect manner? But
he will never imagine that the proportions of night and day, or of both to the month, or
of the month to the year, or of the stars to these and to one another, and any other
things that are material and visible can also be eternal and subject to no deviation--that
would be absurd; and it is equally absurd to take so much pains in investigating their
exact truth.
I quite agree, though I never thought of
this before.
Then, I said, in astronomy, as in geometry,
we should employ problems, and let the heavens alone if we would approach the subject in
the right way and so make the natural gift of reason to be of any real use.
That, he said, is a work infinitely beyond
our present astronomers.
69 Yes, I said; and there are many other
things which must also have a similar extension given to them, if our legislation is to be
of any value. But can you tell me of any other suitable study?
No, he said, not without thinking.
Motion, I said, has many forms, and not one
only; two of them are obvious enough even to wits no better than ours; and there are
others, as I imagine, which may be left to wiser persons.
But where are the two?
There is a second, I said, which is the
counterpart of the one already named.
And what may that be?
The second, I said, would seem relatively to
the ears to be what the first is to the eyes; for I conceive that as the eyes are designed
to look up at the stars, so are the ears to hear harmonious motions; and these are sister
sciences--as the Pythagoreans say, and we, Glaucon, agree with them?
Yes, he replied.
70 But this, I said, is a laborious study,
and therefore we had better go and learn of them; and they will tell us whether there are
any other applications of these sciences. At the same time, we must not lose sight of our
own higher object.
What is that?
71 There is a perfection which all knowledge
ought to reach, and which our pupils ought also to attain, and not to fall short of, as I
was saying that they did in astronomy. For in the science of harmony, as you probably
know, the same thing happens. The teachers of harmony compare the sounds and consonances
which are heard only, and their labor, like that of the astronomers, is in vain.
72 Yes, by heaven! he said; and 'tis as good
as a play to hear them talking about their condensed notes, as they call them; they put
their ears close alongside of the strings like persons catching a sound from their
neighbor's wall--one set of them declaring that they distinguish an intermediate note and
have found the least interval which should be the unit of measurement; the others
insisting that the two sounds have passed into the same--either party setting their ears
before their understanding.
73 You mean, I said, those gentlemen who
tease and torture the strings and rack them on the pegs of the instrument: I might carry
on the metaphor and speak after their manner of the blows which the plectrum gives, and
make accusations against the strings, both of backwardness and forwardness to sound; but
this would be tedious, and therefore I will only say that these are not the men, and that
I am referring to the Pythagoreans, of whom I was just now proposing to inquire about
harmony. For they too are in error, like the astronomers; they investigate the numbers of
the harmonies which are heard, but they never attain to problems--that is to say, they
never reach the natural harmonies of number, or reflect why some numbers are harmonious
and others not.
That, he said, is a thing of more than
mortal knowledge.
74 A thing, I replied, which I would rather
call useful; that is, if sought after with a view to the beautiful and good; but if
pursued in any other spirit, useless. Very true, he said.
Now, when all these studies reach the point
of intercommunion and connection with one another, and come to be considered in their
mutual affinities, then, I think, but not till then, will the pursuit of them have a value
for our objects; otherwise there is no profit in them.
I suspect so; but you are speaking,
Socrates, of a vast work.
What do you mean? I said; the prelude, or
what? Do you not know that all this is but the prelude to the actual strain which we have
to learn? For you surely would not regard the skilled mathematician as a dialectician?
Assuredly not, he said; I have hardly ever
known a mathematician who was capable of reasoning.
75 But do you imagine that men who are
unable to give and take a reason will have the knowledge which we require of them?
Neither can this be supposed.
76 And so, Glaucon, I said, we have at last
arrived at the hymn of dialectic. This is that strain which is of the intellect only, but
which the faculty of sight will nevertheless be found to imitate; for sight, as you may
remember, was imagined by us after a while to behold the real animals and stars, and last
of all the sun himself. And so with dialectic; when a person starts on the discovery of
the absolute by the light of reason only, and without any assistance of sense, and
perseveres until by pure intelligence he arrives at the perception of the absolute good,
he at last finds himself at the end of the intellectual world, as in the case of sight at
the end of the visible.
Exactly, he said.
Then this is the progress which you call
dialectic?
True.
77 But the release of the prisoners from
chains, and their translation from the shadows to the images and to the light, and the
ascent from the underground den to the sun, while in his presence they are vainly trying
to look on animals and plants and the light of the sun, but are able to perceive even with
their weak eyes the images in the water (which are divine), and are the shadows of true
existence (not shadows of images cast by a light of fire, which compared with the sun is
only an image)--this power of elevating the highest principle in the soul to the
contemplation of that which is best in existence, with which we may compare the raising of
that faculty which is the very light of the body to the sight of that which is brightest
in the material and visible world--this power is given, as I was saying, by all that study
and pursuit of the arts which have been described.
78 I agree in what you are saying, he
replied, which may be hard to believe, yet, from another point of view, is harder still to
deny. This, however, is not a theme to be treated of in passing only, but will have to be
discussed again and again. And so, whether our conclusion be true or false, let us assume
all this, and proceed at once from the prelude or preamble to the chief strain, and
describe that in like manner. Say, then, what is the nature and what are the divisions of
dialectic, and what are the paths which lead thither; for these paths will also lead to
our final rest.
79 Dear Glaucon, I said, you will not be
able to follow me here, though I would do my best, and you should behold not an image
only, but the absolute truth, according to my notion. Whether what I told you would or
would not have been a reality I cannot venture to say; but you would have seen something
like reality; of that I am confident.
Doubtless, he replied.
But I must also remind you that the power of
dialectic alone can 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.
80 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.
81 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 upward; 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:
82 "As being is to becoming, so is pure
intellect to opinion. And as intellect is to opinion, so is science to belief, and
understand ing 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 inquiry,
many times longer than this has been.
As far as I understand, he said, I agree.
83 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?
84 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.
85 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.
86 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?
87 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.
88 Further, he of whom we are in search
should have a good memory, and be an unwearied solid man who is a lover of labor 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.
89 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?
90 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 gymnastics and hunting, and all other
bodily exercises, but a hater rather than a lover of the labor of learning or listening or
inquiring. 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.
91 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.
92 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.
93 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?
94 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.
95 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.
96 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?
97 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.
98 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 --labors, lessons, dangers--and he who is most at home in all of them
ought to be enrolled in a select number.
At what age?
99 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.
100 After that time those who are selected
from the class of twenty years old will be promoted to higher honor, 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.
101 These, I said, are the points which you
must consider; and those who have most of this comprehension, and who are most steadfast
in their learning, and in their military and other appointed duties, when they have
arrived at the age of thirty will have to be chosen by you out of the select class, and
elevated to higher honor; 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?
102 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 toward 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.
103 Then I should say that while he is
ignorant of the truth he will be likely to honor 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.
104 But when he has made the discovery, I
should imagine that he would diminish his honor 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?
105 In this way: you know that there are
certain principles about justice and honor, which were taught us in childhood, and under
their parental authority we have been brought up, obeying and honoring 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 honor the maxims of their fathers.
True.
106 Now, when a man is in this state, and
the questioning spirit asks what is fair or honorable, 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 honorable any more than dishonorable, 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 honor and obey them as before?
Impossible.
And when he ceases to think them honorable
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?
Unquestionably.
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.
Certainly.
107 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.
108 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.
109 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 honor 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.
110 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?
111 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 Blessed and dwell there; and the city will give them public memorials and sacrifices
and honor them, if the Pythian oracle consent, as demigods, 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.
112 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 honors of this present world which they deem mean and worthless,
esteeming above all things right and the honor 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?
113 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.
114 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.
