Complete Works
Page 238
CLINIAS: Indeed not.
ATHENIAN: Now surely human life has something to do with the world of the soul, and man himself is the most god-fearing of all living creatures, isn’t he?
CLINIAS: I dare say.
ATHENIAN: And we regard all mortal creatures as possessions of gods, like the universe as a whole.
CLINIAS: Of course.
ATHENIAN: So whether you argue these possessions count for little or much in the sight of the gods, in neither case would it be proper for our [c] owners to neglect us, seeing how very solicitous and good they are. You see, there’s another point we ought to consider here.
CLINIAS: What?
ATHENIAN: It’s a point about perception and physical strength. Aren’t they essentially at opposite poles, so far as ease and difficulty are concerned?
CLINIAS: What do you mean?
ATHENIAN: Although little things are more difficult to see or hear than big, they are much easier, when there are only a few of them, to carry or control or look after.
CLINIAS: Yes, much easier. [d]
ATHENIAN: Take a doctor who has been given the entire body to treat. Will he ever get good results if he neglects the individual limbs and tiny parts, in spite of being willing and able to look after the major organs?
CLINIAS: No, never.
ATHENIAN: Nor yet will helmsmen or generals or householders, nor ‘statesmen’ or anybody of that ilk, succeed in major day-to-day matters if they neglect occasional details. You know how even masons say the big [e] stones don’t lie well without the small ones.
CLINIAS: Of course.
ATHENIAN: So let’s not treat God as less skilled than a mortal craftsman, who applies the same expertise to all the jobs in his own line whether they’re big or small, and gets more finished and perfect results the better he is at his work. We must not suppose that God, who is supremely wise, [903] and willing and able to superintend the world, looks to major matters but—like a faint-hearted lazybones who throws up his hands at hard work—neglects the minor, which we established were in fact easier to look after.
CLINIAS: No sir, we should never entertain such notions about gods. It’s a point of view that would be absolutely impious and untrue.
ATHENIAN: Well, it looks to me as if we’ve given a pretty complete answer to this fellow who’s always going on about the negligence of heaven.
CLINIAS: Yes, we have.
[b] ATHENIAN: At any rate, our thesis has forced him to admit he was wrong. But I still think we need to find a form of words to charm him into agreement.
CLINIAS: Well, my friend, what do you suggest?
ATHENIAN: What we say to the young man should serve to convince him of this thesis: ‘The supervisor of the universe has arranged everything with an eye to its preservation and excellence, and its individual parts play appropriate active or passive roles according to their various capacities. These parts, down to the smallest details of their active and passive functions, have each been put under the control of ruling powers that have [c] perfected the minutest constituents of the universe. Now then, you perverse fellow, one such part—a mere speck that nevertheless constantly contributes to the good of the whole—is you, you who have forgotten that nothing is created except to provide the entire universe with a life of prosperity. You forget that creation is not for your benefit: you exist for the sake of the universe. Every doctor, you see, and every skilled craftsman always works for the sake of some end-product as a whole; he handles his materials so that they will give the best results in general, and makes [d] the parts contribute to the good of the whole, not vice versa. But you’re grumbling because you don’t appreciate that your position is best not only for the universe but for you too, thanks to your common origin. And since a soul is allied with different bodies at different times, and perpetually undergoes all sorts of changes, either self-imposed or produced by some other soul, the divine checkers-player has nothing else to do except promote a soul with a promising character to a better situation, and relegate one that is deteriorating to an inferior, as is appropriate in each case, so that [e] they all meet the fate they deserve.’
CLINIAS: How do you mean?
ATHENIAN: I fancy I could explain how easy it could be for gods to control the universe. Suppose that in one’s constant efforts to serve its interests one were to mold all that is in it by transforming everything (by turning fire into water permeated by soul, for instance), instead of producing variety from a basic unity or unity from variety, then after the first or [904] second or third stage of creation everything would be arranged in an infinite number of perpetually changing patterns.6 But in fact the supervisor of the universe finds his task remarkably easy.
CLINIAS: Again, what do you mean?
ATHENIAN: This. Our King saw (a) that all actions are a function of soul and involve a great deal of virtue and a great deal of vice, (b) that the combination of body and soul, while not an eternal creation like the gods sanctioned by law, is nevertheless indestructible (because living beings could never have been created if one of these two constituent factors had been destroyed), (c) that one of them—the good element in soul—is [b] naturally beneficial, while the bad element naturally does harm. Seeing all this he contrived a place for each constituent where it would most easily and effectively ensure the triumph of virtue and the defeat of vice throughout the universe. With this grand purpose in view he has worked out what sort of position, in what regions, should be assigned to a soul to match its changes of character; but he left it to the individual’s acts of will to determine the direction of these changes. You see, the way we react [c] to particular circumstances is almost invariably determined by our desires and our psychological state.
CLINIAS: Likely enough.
ATHENIAN: So all things that contain soul change, the cause of their change lying within themselves, and as they change they move according to the ordinance and law of destiny. Small changes in unimportant aspects of character entail small horizontal changes of position in space, while a substantial decline into injustice sets the soul on the path to the depths of [d] the so-called “under” world, which men call “Hades” and similar names, and which haunts and terrifies them both during their lives and when they have been sundered from their bodies. Take a soul that becomes particularly full of vice or virtue as a result of its own acts of will and the powerful influence of social intercourse. If companionship with divine virtue has made it exceptionally divine, it experiences an exceptional change of location, being conducted by a holy path to some superior place elsewhere. Alternatively, opposite characteristics will send it off to live in [e] the opposite region. And in spite of your belief that the gods neglect you, my lad, or rather young man,
This is the sentence of the gods that dwell upon Olympus7
—to go to join worse souls as you grow worse and better souls as you grow better, and alike in life and all the deaths you suffer to do and be done by according to the standards that birds of a feather naturally apply [905] among themselves. Neither you nor anyone else who has got into trouble will ever be able to run fast enough to boast that he has escaped this sentence—a sentence to which the judges have attached special importance, and which should take every possible care to avoid. Make yourself ever so small and hide in the depths of the earth, or soar high into the sky: this sentence will be ever at your heels, and either while you’re still alive on [b] earth or after you’ve descended into Hades or been taken to some even more remote place, you’ll pay the proper penalty of your crimes. You’ll find the same is true of those whom you imagine have emerged from misery to happiness because you’ve seen them rise from a humble position to high estate by acts of impiety, or some similar wickedness. These actions, it seemed to you, were like a mirror which reflected the gods’ total lack of concern. But you didn’t appreciate how the role of the gods contributes to the total scheme of things. What a bold fellow you must be, if you think [c] you’ve no need of such knowledge! Yet without it no one will ever cat
ch so much as a glimmer of the truth or be able to offer a reasoned account of happiness or misery in life. So if Clinias here and this whole group of old men convince you that you don’t really understand what you’re saying about the gods, then the divine assistance will be with you. But it may be that you need some further explanation, so if you have any sense you’ll [d] listen while we address our third opponent.
Now as far as I’m concerned, we’ve proved, not too inadequately, that gods exist and care for mankind. However, there remains the view that they can be bought off by the gifts of sinners. No one should ever assent to this thesis, and we must fight to the last ditch to refute it.
CLINIAS: Well said. Let’s do as you suggest.
ATHENIAN: Look—in the name of the gods themselves!—how would they [e] be bought off, supposing they ever were? What would they have to be? What sort of being would do this? Well, if they are going to run the entire universe forever, presumably they’ll have to be rulers.
CLINIAS: True.
ATHENIAN: Now then, what sort of ruler do the gods in fact resemble? Or rather, what rulers resemble them? Let’s compare small instances with great, and see what rulers will serve our purpose. What about drivers of competing teams of horses, or steersmen of boats in a race? Would they be suitable parallels? Or we might compare the gods to commanders of armies. Again, it could be that they’re analogous to doctors concerned [906] to defend the body in the war against disease, or to farmers anxiously anticipating the seasons that usually discourage the growth of their crops, or to shepherds. Now since we’ve agreed among ourselves that the universe is full of many good things and many bad as well, and that the latter outnumber the former, we maintain that the battle we have on our hands is never finished, and demands tremendous vigilance. However, gods and spirits are fighting on our side, the gods and spirits whose chattels we [b] are. What ruins us is injustice and senseless aggression; what protects us is justice and sensible moderation—virtues that are part of the spiritual characteristics of the gods, although one can find them quite clearly residing among us too, albeit on a small scale. Now there are some souls living on earth in possession of ill-gotten gains, who in their obviously brutish way throw themselves before the souls of their guardians (whether watch-dogs, shepherds, or masters of the utmost grandeur) and by wheedling words and winning entreaties try to persuade them of the truth of the line put about by scoundrels—that they have the right to feather their nest with impunity at mankind’s expense. But I suppose our view is that this vice [c] we’ve named—acquisitiveness—is what is called ‘disease’ when it appears in flesh and blood, and ‘plague’ when brought by the seasons or at intervals of years; while if it occurs in the state and society, the same vice turns up under yet another name: ‘injustice’.
CLINIAS: Certainly.
ATHENIAN: Thus anyone who argues that gods are always indulgent to [d] the unjust man and the criminal, provided they’re given a share in the loot, must in effect be prepared to say that if wolves, for instance, were to give watch-dogs a small part of their prey, the dogs would be appeased by the gift and turn a blind eye to the plundering of the flock. Isn’t this what people are really suggesting when they say that gods can be squared?
CLINIAS: It certainly is.
ATHENIAN: So consider all those guardians we instanced a moment ago. Can one compare gods to any of them, without making oneself ridiculous? What about steersmen who are turned from their course ‘by libations and [e] burnt offerings’,8and wreck both the ship and its crew?
CLINIAS: Of course not.
ATHENIAN: And presumably they are not to be compared to a charioteer lined up at the starting point who has been bribed by a gift to throw the race and let others win.
CLINIAS: No sir, to describe the gods like that would be a scandalous comparison.
ATHENIAN: Nor, of course, do they stand comparison with generals or doctors or farmers, or herdsmen, or dogs beguiled by wolves.
CLINIAS: What blasphemy! The very idea! [907]
ATHENIAN: Now aren’t all the gods the most supreme guardians of all, and don’t they look after our supreme interests?
CLINIAS: Very much so.
ATHENIAN: So are we really going to say that these guardians of the most valuable interests, distinguished as they are for their personal skill in guarding, are inferior to dogs, or the mere man in the street, who’ll never abandon justice, in spite of the gifts that the unjust immorally press upon him?
CLINIAS: Of course not. That’s an intolerable thing to say. There’s no sort [b] of impiety that men won’t commit, but anyone who persists in this doctrine bids fair to be condemned—and with every justification—as the worst and most impious of the impious.
ATHENIAN: Can we now say that our three theses—that the gods exist, that they are concerned for us, and that they are absolutely above being corrupted into flouting justice—have been adequately proved?
CLINIAS: Certainly, and we endorse these arguments of yours.
[c] ATHENIAN: Still, I fancy that being so anxious to get the better of these scoundrels, we’ve put our case rather polemically. But what prompted this desire to come out on top, my dear Clinias, was a fear that the rogues should think that victory in argument was a license to do as they please and act on any and every theological belief they happen to hold. Hence our anxiety to speak with some force. However, if we’ve made even a small contribution to persuading those fellows to hate themselves and [d] cherish the opposite kind of character, then this preface of ours to the law of impiety will have been well worth composing.
CLINIAS: Well, there is that hope. But even without those results, the lawgiver will not be at fault for having discussed such a topic.
ATHENIAN: Now then, after the preface we’ll have a form of words that convey the purpose of our laws—a general promulgation to all the ungodly that they should abandon their present habits in favor of a life of piety. Then in cases of disobedience the following law of impiety should apply:
[e] Anyone who comes across a case of impiety of word or deed should go to the aid of the law by alerting the authorities. The first officials to be notified should bring the matter, in due legal form, before the court appointed to try this category of case.
58. If an official who hears of the incident fails to perform this duty, he must himself be liable to a charge of impiety at the hands of anyone who wishes to champion the cause of the laws.
When verdicts of ‘guilty’ are returned, the court is to assess a separate penalty for each impious act of each offender. Imprisonment is to apply [908] in all cases. (The state will have three prisons: (1) a public one near the market-place for the general run of offenders, where large numbers may be kept in safe custody, (2) one called the ‘reform center’, near the place where the Nocturnal Council9 assembles, and (3) another in the heart of the countryside, in a solitary spot where the terrain is at its wildest; and the title of this prison is somehow to convey the notion of ‘punishment’.)
Now since impiety has three causes, which we’ve already described, [b] and each is divided into two kinds, there will be six categories of religious offenders worth distinguishing; and the punishment imposed on each should vary in kind and degree. Consider first a complete atheist: he may have a naturally just character and be the sort of person who hates scoundrels, and because of his loathing of injustice is not tempted to commit it; he may flee the unjust and feel fondness for the just. Alternatively, [c] besides believing that all things are ‘empty of’ gods, he may be a prey to an uncontrollable urge to experience pleasure and avoid pain, and he may have a retentive memory and be capable of shrewd insights. Both these people suffer from a common failing, atheism, but in terms of the harm they do to others the former is much less dangerous than the latter. The former will talk with a complete lack of inhibition about gods and sacrifices and oaths, and by poking fun at other people will probably, if he continues unpunished, make converts to his own views. The latter holds the same opinions but has what ar
e called ‘natural gifts’: full of cunning [d] and guile, he’s the sort of fellow who’ll make a diviner and go in for all sorts of legerdemain; sometimes he’ll turn into a dictator or a demagogue or a general, or a plotter in secret rites; and he’s the man who invents the tricks of the so-called ‘sophists’. So there can be many different types of atheist, but for the purpose of legislation they need to be divided into two [e] groups. The dissembling atheist deserves to die for his sins not just once or twice but many times, whereas the other kind needs simply admonition combined with incarceration. The idea that gods take no notice of the world similarly produces two more categories, and the belief that they can be squared another two. So much for our distinctions.
59. (a) Those who have simply fallen victim to foolishness and who do not have a bad character and disposition
should be sent to the reform center by the judge in accordance with the [909] law for a term of not less than five years, and during this period no citizen must come into contact with them except the members of the Nocturnal Council, who should pay visits to admonish them and ensure their spiritual salvation.
(b) When his imprisonment is over, a prisoner who appears to be enjoying mental health should go and live with sensible people; but if appearances turn out to have been deceptive, and he is reconvicted on a similar charge, he should be punished by death.
There are others, however, who in addition to not recognizing the existence of gods, or believing they are unconcerned about the world or can be bought off, become subhuman. They take everybody for fools, and many a man they delude during his life; and then by saying after his death that [b] they can conjure up his spirit, and by promising to influence the gods through the alleged magic powers of sacrifices and prayers and charms, they try to wreck completely whole homes and states for filthy lucre.