The
Republic
By Plato
Written 360 B.C.E
Translated by Benjamin Jowett
Table of Contents
Book VII
Main Characters: Socrates - GLAUCON
(usually, the short sentences are Glaucon--the one agreeing)
And now, I said, let me show in a figure how far our nature is
enlightened or unenlightened: --Behold! human beings living in
a underground den, which has a mouth open towards 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.
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?
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.
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.
And now look again, and see what will naturally follow it' the
prisoners are released and disabused of their error. At first,
when any of them is liberated and compelled suddenly to stand up
and turn his neck round and walk and look towards 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 some one 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
towards 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.
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
and take 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 now
And suppose once more, that he is reluctantly dragged up a steep
and rugged ascent, and held fast until he 's 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.
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 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.
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.
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 them?
Certainly, he would.
And if they were in the habit of conferring honours 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 honours 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 an 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.
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 any one 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.
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 upwards 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.
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.
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
endeavouring to meet the conceptions of those who have never yet
seen absolute justice?
Anything but surprising, he replied.
Any one 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 any one 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 light, 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.
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.
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.
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 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.
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.
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
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 blest.
Very true, he replied.
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?
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 labours and honours,
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?
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.
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.
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?
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 the' 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.