workman. Now is there any more important work than to be a good soldier? And is war an art so easily acquired that a man may be a warrior who is also a husbandman, or shoemaker, or other artisan; although no one in the world would be a good dice or draught player who merely took up the game as a recreation, and had not from his earliest years devoted himself to this and nothing else? Mere tools will not make a man a skilled workman, or master of defence, nor be of any use to him who knows not the nature of each, and has never bestowed any attention upon them. How then will he who takes up a shield or other implement of war become a good fighter all in a day, whether with heavy-armed or any other kind of troops? Yes, he said, the tools which would teach us how to use them would be of rare value. And the higher the duties of the guardian, I said, the more time, and art, and skill will be needed by him? That is what I should suppose, he replied. Will he not also require natural gifts? Certainly. Then we shall have to select natures which are suited to their task of guarding the city? We shall. And the selection will be no easy task, I said; but still we must endeavour to do our best as far as we can? We must. The dog is a watcher, I said, and the guardian is also a 375 watcher; and in this point of view, is not the noble youth very like a well-bred dog? How do you mean? I mean that both of them ought to be quick to see, and swift to overtake the enemy; and strong too if, when they have caught him, they have to fight with him. All these qualities, he replied, will certainly be required. Well, and your guardian must be brave if he is to fight well? And is he likely to be brave who has no spirit, whether horse or dog or any other animal? Have you never observed how the presence of spirit makes the soul of any creature absolutely fearless and invincible? I have. Then now we have a clear idea of the bodily qualities which are required in the guardian. True. And also of the mental ones; his soul is to be full of spirit? But then, Glaucon, those spirited natures are apt to be furious h with one another, and with everybody else. There is the difficulty, he replied. Whereas, I said, they ought to be gentle to their friends, and dangerous to their enemies; or, instead of their enemies destroying them, they will destroy themselves. True, he said. What is to be done then, I said; how shall we find a gentle nature which has also a great spirit, for they seem to be inconsistent with one another? True. And yet he will not be a good guardian who is wanting in either of these two qualities; and, as the combination of them appears to be impossible, this is equivalent to saying that to be a good guardian is also impossible. I am afraid that what you say is true, he replied. Here feeling perplexed I began to think over what had preceded. My friend, I said, we deserve to be in a puzzle; for we have lost sight of the simile with which we started. What do you mean? he said. I mean to say that there do exist natures gifted with those opposite qualities. And where do you find them? Many animals, I replied, furnish examples of them; our friend the dog is a very good one: you know that well-bred dogs are perfectly gentle to their familiars and acquaintances, and the reverse to strangers. Yes, I know. Then there is nothing impossible or out of the order of nature. in our finding a-guardian who has a similar combination of qualities? Certainly not. Would you not say that he should combine with the spirited nature the qualities of a philosopher I do not apprehend your meaning. The trait of which I am speaking, I replied, may be also seen 376 in the dog, and is remarkable in an animal. ̄ What trait? Why, a dog, whenever he sees a stranger, is angry; when an acquaintance, he welcomes him although the one has never done him any harm, nor the other any good. Did this never strike you as curious? I never before thought of it, though I quite recognise the truth of your remark. And surely this instinct of the dog is very charming;-your dog is a true philosopher. Why? Why, because he distinguishes the face of a friend and of an enemy only by the criterion of knowing and not knowing. And must not the creature be fond of learning who determines what is friendly and what is unfriendly by the test of knowledge and ignorance? Most assuredly. And is not the-love-of-learning the love of wisdom, which is philosophy? They are the same, he replied. And may we not say confidently of man also, that he who is likely to be gentle to his friends and acquaintances, must by nature be a lover of wisdom and knowledge? That we may safely affirm. Then he who is to be a really good and noble guardian of the State will require to unite in himself philosophy and spirit and swiftness and strength? Undoubtedly. Then we have found the desired natures; and now that we have found them, how are they to be reared and educated? Is this an enquiry which may be fairly expected to throw light on the greater enquiry which is our final end-How do justice and injustice grow up in States? for we do not want to be tedious and irrelevant, or to leave out anything which is really to the point. Adeimantus thought that the enquiry would be of great use to us. 377 Then, I said, my dear friend, the task must not be given up, even if somewhat long. Certainly not. Come then and let us pass a leisure hour in story telling, and our story shall be the education of our heroes. By all means. And what shall be their education? Can we find a better than the old-fashioned_sort?—and this has two divisions, gymnastic for the body, and music for the soul. True. Shall we begin education with music, and go on to gymnastic afterwards? By all means. And when you speak of music, do you rank literature under music or not? I do. And literature may be either true or false? Yes. And the young are trained in both kinds, and in the false before the true? I do not understand your meaning, he said. You know, I said, that we begin by telling children stories which, though not wholly destitute of truth, are in the main fictitious; and these stories are told them when they are not of an age to learn gymnastics. Very true. That was my meaning in saying that we must teach music before gymnastics. Quite right, he said. You know also that the beginning is the chiefest part of any work, especially in a young and tender thing; for that is the time at which the character is being formed and most readily receives the desired impression. Quite true. And shall we just carelessly allow children to hear any casual tales which may be framed by casual persons, and to receive into their minds notions which are the very opposite of those which are to be held by them when they are grown-up? We cannot. Then the first thing-will-be to have a censorship of the writers of fiction, and let the censors receive any tale of fiction which is good, and reject the bad; and we will desire mothers and nurses to tell their children the authorised ones only Let them fashion the mind with these tales, even more fondly than they.. form the body with their hands, and most of those which are now in use must be discarded. Of what tales are you speaking? he said. You may find a model of the lesser in the greater, I said; for they are necessarily cast in the same mould, and there is the same spirit in both of them. That may be very true, he replied; but I do not as yet know what you would term the greater. Those, I said, which are narrated by Homer and Hesiod, and the rest of the poets, who have ever been the great story-tellers of mankind. But which stories do you mean, he said; and what fault_do you find with them? A fault which is most serious, I said; the fault of telling a lie, and, what is more, a bad lie. But when is this fault committed? Whenever an erroneous representation is made of the nature of gods and heroes,—like the drawing of a limner which has not Frascal the shadow of a likeness to the truth. Yes, he said, that sort of thing is certainly very blameable; but what are the stories which you mean? First of all, I said, there was that greatest of all lies in high places, which the poet told about Uranus, and which was a bad lie too, I mean what Hesiod says that Uranus did, and what Cronus did to him. The doings of Cronus, and the sufferings 378 which in turn his son inflicted upon him, even if they were true, ought certainly not to be lightly told to young and simple persons; if possible, they had better be buried in silence. But if there is an absolute necessity for their mention, a chosen few might hear them in a mystery, and in order to reduce the number of hearers they should sacrifice not a common [Eleusinian] pig, but some huge and unprocurable victim. Why, yes, said he, those stories are certainly objectionable. 'Hesiod, Theogony, 154, 459. |