So it seems.
And isn’t it the philosophic part of one’s nature that provides the cultivation? [e] If it is relaxed too far, it becomes softer than it should, but if properly nurtured, it is cultivated and orderly.
So it is.
Now, we say that our guardians must have both these natures.
They must indeed.
And mustn’t the two be harmonized with each other?
Of course.
And if this harmony is achieved, the soul is both moderate and courageous? [411]
Certainly.
But if it is inharmonious, it is cowardly and savage?
Yes, indeed.
Therefore, when someone gives music an opportunity to charm his soul with the flute and to pour those sweet, soft, and plaintive tunes we mentioned through his ear, as through a funnel, when he spends his whole life humming them and delighting in them, then, at first, whatever spirit he has is softened, just as iron is tempered, and from being hard and useless, it is made useful. But if he keeps at it unrelentingly and is beguiled by the music, after a time his spirit is melted and dissolved until it vanishes, [b] and the very sinews of his soul are cut out and he becomes “a feeble warrior.”33
That’s right.
And if he had a spiritless nature from the first, this process is soon completed. But if he had a spirited nature, his spirit becomes weak and unstable, flaring up at trifles and extinguished as easily. The result is that such people become quick-tempered, prone to anger, and filled with discontent, rather than spirited. [c]
That’s certainly true.
What about someone who works hard at physical training and eats well but never touches music or philosophy? Isn’t he in good physical condition at first, full of resolution and spirit? And doesn’t he become more courageous than he was before?
Certainly.
But what happens if he does nothing else and never associates with the [d] Muse? Doesn’t whatever love of learning he might have had in his soul soon become enfeebled, deaf, and blind, because he never tastes any learning or investigation or partakes of any discussion or any of the rest of music and poetry, to nurture or arouse it?
It does seem to be that way.
I believe that someone like that becomes a hater of reason and of music. He no longer makes any use of persuasion but bulls his way through every situation by force and savagery like a wild animal, living in ignorance and stupidity without either rhythm or grace. [e]
That’s most certainly how he’ll live.
It seems, then, that a god has given music and physical training to human beings not, except incidentally, for the body and the soul but for the spirited and wisdom-loving parts of the soul itself, in order that these might be in harmony with one another, each being stretched and relaxed to the appropriate degree. [412]
It seems so.
Then the person who achieves the finest blend of music and physical training and impresses it on his soul in the most measured way is the one we’d most correctly call completely harmonious and trained in music, much more so than the one who merely harmonizes the strings of his instrument.
That’s certainly so, Socrates.
Then, won’t we always need this sort of person as an overseer in our city, Glaucon, if indeed its constitution is to be preserved?
[b] It seems that we’ll need someone like that most of all.
These, then, are the patterns for education and upbringing. Should we enumerate the dances of these people, or their hunts, chases with hounds, athletic contests, and horse races? Surely, they’re no longer hard to discover, since it’s pretty clear that they must follow the patterns we’ve already established.
Perhaps so.
All right, then what’s the next thing we have to determine? Isn’t it which of these same people will rule and which be ruled?
[c] Of course.
Now, isn’t it obvious that the rulers must be older and the ruled younger?
Yes, it is.
And mustn’t the rulers also be the best of them?
That, too.
And aren’t the best farmers the ones who are best at farming?
Yes.
Then, as the rulers must be the best of the guardians, mustn’t they be the ones who are best at guarding the city?
Yes.
Then, in the first place, mustn’t they be knowledgeable and capable, and mustn’t they care for the city?
[d] That’s right.
Now, one cares most for what one loves.
Necessarily.
And someone loves something most of all when he believes that the same things are advantageous to it as to himself and supposes that if it does well, he’ll do well, and that if it does badly, then he’ll do badly too.
That’s right.
Then we must choose from among our guardians those men who, upon examination, seem most of all to believe throughout their lives that they [e] must eagerly pursue what is advantageous to the city and be wholly unwilling to do the opposite.
Such people would be suitable for the job at any rate.
I think we must observe them at all ages to see whether they are guardians of this conviction and make sure that neither compulsion nor magic spells will get them to discard or forget their belief that they must do what is best for the city.
What do you mean by discarding?
I’ll tell you. I think the discarding of a belief is either voluntary or involuntary—voluntary when one learns that the belief is false, involuntary in the case of all true beliefs. [413]
I understand voluntary discarding but not involuntary.
What’s that? Don’t you know that people are voluntarily deprived of bad things, but involuntarily deprived of good ones? And isn’t being deceived about the truth a bad thing, while possessing the truth is good? Or don’t you think that to believe the things that are is to possess the truth?
That’s right, and I do think that people are involuntarily deprived of true opinions.
But can’t they also be so deprived by theft, magic spells, and compulsion? [b]
Now, I don’t understand again.
I’m afraid I must be talking like a tragic poet! By “the victims of theft” I mean those who are persuaded to change their minds or those who forget, because time, in the latter case, and argument, in the former, takes away their opinions without their realizing it. Do you understand now?
Yes.
By “the compelled” I mean those whom pain or suffering causes to change their mind.
I understand that, and you’re right.
The “victims of magic,” I think you’d agree, are those who change their mind because they are under the spell of pleasure or fear. [c]
It seems to me that everything that deceives does so by casting a spell.
Then, as I said just now, we must find out who are the best guardians of their conviction that they must always do what they believe to be best for the city. We must keep them under observation from childhood and set them tasks that are most likely to make them forget such a conviction or be deceived out of it, and we must select whoever keeps on remembering [d] it and isn’t easily deceived, and reject the others. Do you agree?
Yes.
And we must subject them to labors, pains, and contests in which we can watch for these traits.
That’s right.
Then we must also set up a competition for the third way in which people are deprived of their convictions, namely, magic. Like those who lead colts into noise and tumult to see if they’re afraid, we must expose our young people to fears and pleasures, testing them more thoroughly than gold is tested by fire. If someone is hard to put under a spell, is [e] apparently gracious in everything, is a good guardian of himself and the music and poetry he has learned, and if he always shows himself to be rhythmical and harmonious, then he is the best person both for himself and for the city. Anyone who is tested in this way as a child, youth, and adult, and always comes out of it untainted, is to be made a r
uler as well [414] as a guardian; he is to be honored in life and to receive after his death the most prized tombs and memorials. But anyone who fails to prove himself in this way is to be rejected. It seems to me, Glaucon, that rulers and guardians must be selected and appointed in some such way as this, though we’ve provided only a general pattern and not the exact details.
It also seems to me that they must be selected in this sort of way.
[b] Then, isn’t it truly most correct to call these people complete guardians, since they will guard against external enemies and internal friends, so that the one will lack the power and the other the desire to harm the city? The young people we’ve hitherto called guardians we’ll now call auxiliaries and supporters of the guardians’ convictions.
I agree.
How, then, could we devise one of those useful falsehoods we were talking about a while ago,34 one noble falsehood that would, in the best [c] case, persuade even the rulers, but if that’s not possible, then the others in the city?
What sort of falsehood?
Nothing new, but a Phoenician story which describes something that has happened in many places. At least, that’s what the poets say, and they’ve persuaded many people to believe it too. It hasn’t happened among us, and I don’t even know if it could. It would certainly take a lot of persuasion to get people to believe it.
You seem hesitant to tell the story.
When you hear it, you’ll realize that I have every reason to hesitate.
Speak, and don’t be afraid.
[d] I’ll tell it, then, though I don’t know where I’ll get the audacity or even what words I’ll use. I’ll first try to persuade the rulers and the soldiers and then the rest of the city that the upbringing and the education we gave them, and the experiences that went with them, were a sort of dream, that in fact they themselves, their weapons, and the other craftsmen’s tools [e] were at that time really being fashioned and nurtured inside the earth, and that when the work was completed, the earth, who is their mother, delivered all of them up into the world. Therefore, if anyone attacks the land in which they live, they must plan on its behalf and defend it as their mother and nurse and think of the other citizens as their earthborn brothers.
It isn’t for nothing that you were so shy about telling your falsehood.
[415] Appropriately so. Nevertheless, listen to the rest of the story. “All of you in the city are brothers,” we’ll say to them in telling our story, “but the god who made you mixed some gold into those who are adequately equipped to rule, because they are most valuable. He put silver in those who are auxiliaries and iron and bronze in the farmers and other craftsmen. For the most part you will produce children like yourselves, but, because [b] you are all related, a silver child will occasionally be born from a golden parent, and vice versa, and all the others from each other. So the first and most important command from the god to the rulers is that there is nothing that they must guard better or watch more carefully than the mixture of metals in the souls of the next generation. If an offspring of theirs should be found to have a mixture of iron or bronze, they must not pity him in any way, but give him the rank appropriate to his nature and drive him [c] out to join the craftsmen and farmers. But if an offspring of these people is found to have a mixture of gold or silver, they will honor him and take him up to join the guardians or the auxiliaries, for there is an oracle which says that the city will be ruined if it ever has an iron or a bronze guardian.” So, do you have any device that will make our citizens believe this story?
I can’t see any way to make them believe it themselves, but perhaps [d] there is one in the case of their sons and later generations and all the other people who come after them.
I understand pretty much what you mean, but even that would help to make them care more for the city and each other. However, let’s leave this matter wherever tradition takes it. And let’s now arm our earthborn and lead them forth with their rulers in charge. And as they march, let them look for the best place in the city to have their camp, a site from which they can most easily control those within, if anyone is unwilling to obey [e] the laws, or repel any outside enemy who comes like a wolf upon the flock. And when they have established their camp and made the requisite sacrifices, they must see to their sleeping quarters. What do you say?
I agree.
And won’t these quarters protect them adequately both in winter and summer?
Of course, for it seems to me that you mean their housing.
Yes, but housing for soldiers, not for money-makers.
How do you mean to distinguish these from one another? [416]
I’ll try to tell you. The most terrible and most shameful thing of all is for a shepherd to rear dogs as auxiliaries to help him with his flocks in such a way that, through licentiousness, hunger, or some other bad trait of character, they do evil to the sheep and become like wolves instead of dogs.
That’s certainly a terrible thing.
Isn’t it necessary, therefore, to guard in every way against our auxiliaries [b] doing anything like that to the citizens because they are stronger, thereby becoming savage masters instead of kindly allies?
It is necessary.
And wouldn’t a really good education endow them with the greatest caution in this regard?
But surely they have had an education like that.
Perhaps we shouldn’t assert this dogmatically, Glaucon. What we can assert is what we were saying just now, that they must have the right education, whatever it is, if they are to have what will most make them gentle to each other and to those they are guarding. [c]
That’s right.
Now, someone with some understanding might say that, besides this education, they must also have the kind of housing and other property that will neither prevent them from being the best guardians nor encourage [d] them to do evil to the other citizens.
That’s true.
Consider, then, whether or not they should live in some such way as this, if they’re to be the kind of men we described. First, none of them should possess any private property beyond what is wholly necessary. Second, none of them should have a house or storeroom that isn’t open for all to enter at will. Third, whatever sustenance moderate and courageous [e] warrior-athletes require in order to have neither shortfall nor surplus in a given year they’ll receive by taxation on the other citizens as a salary for their guardianship. Fourth, they’ll have common messes and live together like soldiers in a camp. We’ll tell them that they always have gold and silver of a divine sort in their souls as a gift from the gods and so have no further need of human gold. Indeed, we’ll tell them that it’s impious for them to defile this divine possession by any admixture of such gold, because many impious deeds have been done that involve the [417] currency used by ordinary people, while their own is pure. Hence, for them alone among the city’s population, it is unlawful to touch or handle gold or silver. They mustn’t be under the same roof as it, wear it as jewelry, or drink from gold or silver goblets. In this way they’d save both themselves and the city. But if they acquire private land, houses, and currency themselves, they’ll be household managers and farmers instead of guardians—[b] hostile masters of the other citizens instead of their allies. They’ll spend their whole lives hating and being hated, plotting and being plotted against, more afraid of internal than of external enemies, and they’ll hasten both themselves and the whole city to almost immediate ruin. For all these reasons, let’s say that the guardians must be provided with housing and the rest in this way, and establish this as a law. Or don’t you agree?
I certainly do, Glaucon said.
1. Odyssey xi.489–91. Odysseus is being addressed by the dead Achilles in Hades.
2. Iliad xx.64–65. The speaker is the god of the underworld—who is afraid that the earth will split open and reveal that his home is dreadful, etc.
3. Iliad xxiii.103–4. Achilles speaks these lines as the soul of the dead Patroclus leaves for Hades.
> 4. Odyssey x.495. Circe is speaking to Odysseus about the prophet Tiresias.
5. Iliad xvi.856–57. The words refer to Patroclus, who has just been mortally wounded by Hector.
6. Iliad xxiii.100–101. The soul referred to is Patroclus’.
7. Odyssey xxiv.6–9. The souls are those of the suitors of Penelope, whom Odysseus has killed.
8. “Cocytus” means river of wailing or lamenting; “Styx” means river of hatred or gloom.
9. The last three references and quotations are to Iliad xxiv.3–12, Iliad xviii.23–24, and Iliad xxii.414–15, respectively.
10. Iliad xviii.54. Thetis, the mother of Achilles, is mourning his fate among the Nereids.
11. Iliad xxii.168–69 (Zeus is watching Hector being pursued by Achilles), and Iliad xvi.433–34.
12. Iliad i.599–600.
13. Odyssey xvii.383–84.
14. The last three citations are, respectively, Iliad iv.412, where Diomedes rebukes his squire and quiets him; Iliad iii.8 and iv.431, not in fact (in our Homer text) adjacent to one another or the preceding; and Iliad i.225 (Achilles is insulting his commander, Agamemnon).
15. Odysseus in Odyssey ix.8–10; Odyssey xii.342 (Eurylochus urges the men to slay the cattle of Helios in Odysseus’ absence).
16. Odyssey viii.266 ff.
17. Odyssey xx.17–18. The speaker is Odysseus.
18. The source of the passage is unknown. Cf. Euripides, Medea 964.
19. Iliad ix.602–5.
20. Iliad xxii.15, 20.
21. The last four references are to Iliad xxi.232 ff., Iliad xxiii.141–52, Iliad xxiv.14–18, and Iliad xxiii.175, respectively.
22. According to some legends, Theseus and Pirithous abducted Helen and tried to abduct Persephone from Hades.
23. See 380d ff.
24. Thought to be from Aeschylus’ lost play Niobe.
25. Iliad i.15–16.
26. The instrument here is the aulos, which was not really a flute but a reed instrument. It was especially good at conveying emotion.
27. After Athena had invented the aulos, she discarded it because it distorted her features to play it. It was picked up by the satyr Marsyas, who was foolish enough to challenge Apollo (inventor of the lyre) to a musical contest. He was defeated, and Apollo flayed him alive. Satyrs were bestial in their behavior and desires—especially their sexual desires.
Complete Works Page 160
