ΑΘ. οὐκοῦν καὶ τὸ βεβαίως οἴεσθαι ταῦθʼ ἕξειν εἰκὸς αὐτοὺς καὶ χρόνον τινʼ ἂν πολὺν μένειν, ἅτε κεκοινωνηκότας μὲν πολλῶν πόνων καὶ κινδύνων ἀλλήλοις, ὑπὸ γένους δὲ ἑνὸς τῶν βασιλέων ἀδελφῶν ὄντων διακεκοσμῆσθαι, πρὸς τούτοις δʼ ἔτι καὶ πολλοῖς μάντεσι κεχρημένους εἶναι τοῖς τε ἄλλοις καὶ τῷ Δελφικῷ Ἀπόλλωνι;
ΜΕ. πῶς δʼ οὐκ εἰκός;
ΑΘ. ταῦτα δὴ τὰ μεγάλα οὕτως προσδοκώμενα διέπτατο, ὡς ἔοικε, τότε ταχύ, πλὴν ὅπερ εἴπομεν νυνδὴ σμικροῦ μέρους τοῦ περὶ τὸν ὑμέτερον τόπον, καὶ τοῦτο δὴ πρὸς τὰ δύο μέρη πολεμοῦν οὐ πώποτε πέπαυται μέχρι τὰ νῦν· ἐπεὶ γενομένη γε ἡ τότε διάνοια καὶ συμφωνήσασα εἰς ἕν, ἀνυπόστατον ἄν τινα δύναμιν ἔσχε κατὰ πόλεμον.
ΜΕ. πῶς γὰρ οὔ;
ΑΘ. πῶς οὖν καὶ πῇ διώλετο; ἆρʼ οὐκ ἄξιον ἐπισκοπεῖν τηλικοῦτον καὶ τοιοῦτον σύστημα ἥτις ποτὲ τύχη διέφθειρε;
ΜΕ. σχολῇ γὰρ οὖν δή τις ἂν ἄλλο σκοπῶν, ἢ νόμους ἢ πολιτείας ἄλλας θεάσαιτο σῳζούσας καλὰ καὶ μεγάλα πράγματα ἢ καὶ τοὐναντίον διαφθειρούσας τὸ παράπαν, εἰ ἀμελήσειε τούτων.
ΑΘ. τοῦτο μὲν ἄρα, ὡς ἔοικεν, εὐτυχῶς πως ἐμβεβήκαμέν γε εἴς τινα σκέψιν ἱκανήν.
ΜΕ. πάνυ μὲν οὖν.
ΑΘ. ἆρʼ οὖν, ὦ θαυμάσιε, λελήθαμεν ἄνθρωποι πάντες, καὶ τὰ νῦν δὴ ἡμεῖς, οἰόμενοι μὲν ἑκάστοτέ τι καλὸν ὁρᾶν πρᾶγμα γενόμενον καὶ θαυμαστὰ ἂν ἐργασάμενον, εἴ τις ἄρα ἠπιστήθη καλῶς αὐτῷ χρῆσθαι κατά τινα τρόπον, τὸ δὲ νῦν γε ἡμεῖς τάχʼ ἂν ἴσως περὶ τοῦτο αὐτὸ οὔτʼ ὀρθῶς διανοοίμεθα οὔτε κατὰ φύσιν, καὶ δὴ καὶ περὶ τὰ ἄλλα πάντες πάντα, περὶ ὧν ἂν οὕτω διανοηθῶσιν;
ΜΕ. λέγεις δὲ δὴ τί, καὶ περὶ τίνος σοι φῶμεν μάλιστʼ εἰρῆσθαι τοῦτον τὸν λόγον;
ΑΘ. ὠγαθέ, καὶ αὐτὸς ἐμαυτοῦ νυνδὴ κατεγέλασα. ἀποβλέψας γὰρ πρὸς τοῦτον τὸν στόλον οὗ πέρι διαλεγόμεθα, ἔδοξέ μοι πάγκαλός τε εἶναι καὶ θαυμαστὸν κτῆμα παραπεσεῖν τοῖς Ἕλλησιν, ὅπερ εἶπον, εἴ τις ἄρα αὐτῷ τότε καλῶς ἐχρήσατο.
ΜΕ. οὐκοῦν εὖ καὶ ἐχόντως νοῦν σύ τε πάντα εἶπες καὶ ἐπῃνέσαμεν ἡμεῖς;
ΑΘ. ἴσως· ἐννοῶ γε μὴν ὡς πᾶς, ὃς ἂν ἴδῃ τι μέγα καὶ δύναμιν ἔχον πολλὴν καὶ ῥώμην, εὐθὺς ἔπαθε τοῦτο, ὡς εἴπερ ἐπίσταιτο ὁ κεκτημένος αὐτῷ χρῆσθαι τοιούτῳ τε ὄντι καὶ τηλικούτῳ, θαυμάστʼ ἂν καὶ πολλὰ κατεργασάμενος εὐδαιμονοῖ.
Ath. Is it not also probable that they would suppose this to be a stable arrangement, and likely to continue quite a long time, since they had shared together many toils and dangers, and were marshalled under leaders of a single family (their princes being brothers), and since, moreover, they had consulted a number of diviners and, amongst others, the Delphian Apollo?
Meg. That is certainly probable.
Ath. But it seems that these great expectations speedily vanished, except only, as we said, in regard to that small fraction, your State of Laconia; and ever since, up to the present day, this fraction has never ceased warring against the other two. For if the original intention had been realized, and if they had been in accord about their policy, it would have created a power invincible in war.
Meg. It certainly would.
Ath. How then, and by what means, was it destroyed? Is it not worth while to enquire by what stroke of fortune so grand a confederacy was wrecked?
Meg. Yes for, if one passed over these examples, one would not be likely to find elsewhere either laws or constitutions which preserve interests thus fair and great, or, on the contrary, wreck them totally.
Ath. Thus by a piece of good luck, as it seems, we have embarked on an enquiry of some importance.
Meg. Undoubtedly.
Ath. Now, my dear sir, do not men in general, like ourselves at the present moment, unconsciously fancy that every fine object they set eyes on would produce marvellous results, if only a man understood the right way to make a fine use of it? But for us to hold such an idea in regard to the matter before us would possibly be both wrong and against nature; and the same is true of all other cases where men hold such ideas.
Meg. What is it you mean? And what shall we say is the special point of your remarks ?
Ath. Why, my dear sir, I had a laugh at my own expense just now. For when I beheld this armament of which we are speaking, I thought it an amazingly fine thing, and that, if anyone had made a fine use of it at that time, it would have proved, as I said, a wonderful boon to the Greeks.
Meg. And was it not quite right and sensible of you to say this, and of us to endorse it?
Ath. Possibly; I conceive, however, that everyone, when he beholds a thing that is large, powerful and strong, is instantly struck by the conviction that, if its possessor knew how to employ an instrument of that magnitude and quality, he could make himself happy by many wonderful achievements.
ΜΕ. οὐκοῦν ὀρθὸν καὶ τοῦτο; ἢ πῶς λέγεις;
ΑΘ. σκόπει δὴ ποῖ βλέπων ὁ τὸν ἔπαινον τοῦτον περὶ ἑκάστου τιθέμενος ὀρθῶς λέγει· πρῶτον δὲ περὶ αὐτοῦ τοῦ νῦν λεγομένου, πῶς, εἰ κατὰ τρόπον ἠπιστήθησαν τάξαι τὸ στρατόπεδον οἱ τότε διακοσμοῦντες, τοῦ καιροῦ πως ἂν ἔτυχον; ἆρʼ οὐκ εἰ συνέστησάν τε ἀσφαλῶς αὐτὸ διέσῳζόν τε εἰς τὸν ἀεὶ χρόνον, ὥστε αὐτούς τε ἐλευθέρους εἶναι καὶ ἄλλων ἄρχοντας ὧν βουληθεῖεν, καὶ ὅλως ἐν ἀνθρώποις πᾶσι καὶ Ἕλλησι καὶ βαρβάροις πράττειν ὅτι ἐπιθυμοῖεν αὐτοί τε καὶ οἱ ἔκγονοι; μῶν οὐ τούτων χάριν ἐπαινοῖεν ἄν;
ΜΕ. πάνυ μὲν οὖν.
ΑΘ. ἆρʼ οὖν καὶ ὃς ἂν ἰδὼν πλοῦτον μέγαν ἢ τιμὰς διαφερούσας γένους, ἢ καὶ ὁτιοῦν τῶν τοιούτων, εἴπῃ ταὐτὰ ταῦτα, πρὸς τοῦτο βλέπων εἶπεν, ὡς διὰ τοῦτο αὐτῷ γενησόμενα ὧν ἂν ἐπιθυμῇ πάντα ἢ τὰ πλεῖστα καὶ ὅσα ἀξιώτατα λόγου;
ΜΕ. ἔοικε γοῦν.
ΑΘ. φέρε δή, πάντων ἀνθρώπων ἐστὶ κοινὸν ἐπιθύμημα ἕν τι τὸ νῦν ὑπὸ τοῦ λόγου δηλούμενον, ὡς αὐτός φησιν ὁ λόγος;
ΜΕ. τὸ ποῖον;
ΑΘ. τὸ κατὰ τὴν τῆς αὑτοῦ ψυχῆς ἐπίταξιν τὰ γιγνόμενα γίγνεσθαι, μάλιστα μὲν ἅπαντα, εἰ δὲ μή, τά γε ἀνθρώπινα.
ΜΕ. τί μήν;
ΑΘ. οὐκοῦν ἐπείπερ βουλόμεθα πάντες τὸ τοιοῦτον ἀεί, παῖδές τε ὄντες καὶ ἄνδρες πρεσβῦται, τοῦτʼ αὐτὸ καὶ εὐχοίμεθʼ ἂν ἀναγκαίως διὰ τέλους;
ΜΕ. πῶς δʼ οὔ;
ΑΘ. καὶ μὴν τοῖς γε φίλοις που συνευχοίμεθʼ ἂν ταῦτα ἅπερ ἐκεῖνοι ἑαυτοῖσιν.
ΜΕ. τί μήν;
ΑΘ. φίλος μὲν ὑὸς πατρί, παῖς ὢν ἀνδρί.
ΜΕ. πῶς δʼ οὔ;
ΑΘ. καὶ μὴν ὧν γʼ ὁ παῖς εὔχεται ἑαυτῷ γίγνεσθαι, πολλὰ ὁ πατὴρ ἀπεύξαιτʼ ἂν τοῖς θεοῖς μηδαμῶς κατὰ τὰς τοῦ ὑέος εὐχὰς γίγνεσθαι.
ΜΕ. ὅταν ἀνόητος ὢν καὶ ἔτι νέος εὔχηται, λέγεις;
ΑΘ. καὶ ὅταν γε ὁ πατὴρ ὢν γέρων ἢ καὶ σφόδρα νεανίας, μηδὲν τῶν καλῶν καὶ τῶν δικαίων γιγνώσκων, εὔχηται μάλα προθύμως ἐν παθήμασιν ἀδελφοῖς ὢν τοῖς γενομένοις Θησεῖ πρὸς τὸν δυστυχῶς τελευτήσαντα Ἱππόλυτον, ὁ δὲ παῖς γιγνώσκῃ, τότε, δοκεῖς, παῖς πατρὶ συνεύξεται;
ΜΕ. μανθάνω ὃ λέγεις. λέγειν γάρ μοι δοκεῖς ὡς οὐ τοῦτο εὐκτέον οὐδὲ ἐπεικτέον, ἕπεσθαι πάντα τῇ ἑαυτοῦ βουλήσει, τὴν βούλησιν δὲ πολὺ μᾶλλον τῇ ἑαυτοῦ φρονήσει· τοῦτο δὲ καὶ πόλιν καὶ ἕνα ἡμῶν ἕκαστον καὶ εὔχεσθαι δεῖν καὶ σπεύδειν, ὅπως νοῦν ἕξει.
Meg. Is not that a right conviction? Or what is your view?
Ath. Just consider what one ought to have in view in every instance, in order to justify the bestowal of such praise. And first, with regard to the matter now under discussion,—if the men who were then marshalling the army knew how to organize it properly, how would they have achieved success? Must it not have been by consolidating it firmly and by maintaining it perpetually, so that they should be both free themselves and masters over all others whom they chose, and so that both they and their children should do in general just what they pleased throughout the world of Greeks and barbarians alike? Are not these the reasons why they would be praised?
Meg. Certainly.
Ath. And in every case where a man uses the language of eulogy on seeing great wealth or eminent family distinctions or anything else of the kind, would it not be true to say that, in using it, he has this fact specially in mind,—that the possessor of such things is likely, just because of this, to realize all, or at least the most and greatest, of his desires.
Meg. That is certainly probable.
Ath. Come now, is there one object of desire—that now indicated by our argument—which is common to all men?
Meg. What is that?
Ath. The desire that, if possible, everything,—or failing that, all that is humanly possible—should happen in accordance with the demands of one’s own heart.
Meg. To he sure.
Ath. Since this, then, is what we all wish always, alike in childhood and manhood and old age, it is for this, necessarily, that we should pray continually.
Meg. Of course.
Ath. Moreover, on behalf of our friends we will join in making the same prayer which they make on their own behalf.
Meg. To be sure.
Ath. And a son is a friend to his father, the boy to the man.
Meg. Certainly.
Ath. Yet the father will often pray the gods that the things which the son prays to obtain may in no wise he granted according to the son’s prayers.
Meg. Do you mean, when the son who is praying is still young and foolish?
Ath. Yes, and also when the father, either through age or through the hot temper of youth, being devoid of all sense of right and justice, indulges in the vehement prayers of passion (like those of Theseus against Hippolytus, when he met his luckless end), while the son, on the contrary, has a sense of justice,—in this case do you suppose that the son will echo his father’s prayers?
Meg. I grasp your meaning. You mean, as I suppose, that what a man ought to pray and press for is not that everything should follow his own desire, while his desire in no way follows his own reason; but it is the winning of wisdom that everyone of us, States and individuals alike, ought to pray for and strive after.
ΑΘ. ναί, καὶ δὴ καὶ πολιτικόν γε ἄνδρα νομοθέτην ὡς ἀεὶ δεῖ πρὸς τοῦτο βλέποντα τιθέναι τὰς τάξεις τῶν νόμων, αὐτός τε ἐμνήσθην καὶ ὑμᾶς ἐπαναμιμνῄσκω, κατʼ ἀρχὰς εἰ μεμνήμεθα τὰ λεχθέντα, ὅτι τὸ μὲν σφῷν ἦν παρακέλευμα ὡς χρεὼν εἴη τὸν ἀγαθὸν νομοθέτην πάντα πολέμου χάριν τὰ νόμιμα τιθέναι, τὸ δὲ ἐμὸν ἔλεγον ὅτι τοῦτο μὲν πρὸς μίαν ἀρετὴν οὐσῶν τεττάρων κελεύοι τίθεσθαι τοὺς νόμους, δέοι δὲ δὴ πρὸς πᾶσαν μὲν βλέπειν, μάλιστα δὲ καὶ πρὸς πρώτην τὴν τῆς συμπάσης ἡγεμόνα ἀρετῆς, φρόνησις δʼ εἴη τοῦτο καὶ νοῦς καὶ δόξα μετʼ ἔρωτός τε καὶ ἐπιθυμίας τούτοις ἑπομένης. ἥκει δὴ πάλιν ὁ λόγος εἰς ταὐτόν, καὶ ὁ λέγων ἐγὼ νῦν λέγω πάλιν ἅπερ τότε, εἰ μὲν βούλεσθε, ὡς παίζων, εἰ δʼ, ὡς σπουδάζων, ὅτι δή φημι εὐχῇ χρῆσθαι σφαλερὸν εἶναι νοῦν μὴ κεκτημένον, ἀλλὰ τἀναντία ταῖς βουλήσεσίν οἱ γίγνεσθαι. σπουδάζοντα δʼ εἴ με τιθέναι βούλεσθε, τίθετε· πάνυ γὰρ οὖν προσδοκῶ νῦν ὑμᾶς εὑρήσειν, τῷ λόγῳ ἑπομένους ὃν ὀλίγον ἔμπροσθε προυθέμεθα, τῆς τῶν βασιλέων τε φθορᾶς καὶ ὅλου τοῦ διανοήματος οὐ δειλίαν οὖσαν τὴν αἰτίαν, οὐδʼ ὅτι τὰ περὶ τὸν πόλεμον οὐκ ἠπίσταντο ἄρχοντές τε καὶ οὓς προσῆκεν ἄρχεσθαι, τῇ λοιπῇ δὲ πάσῃ κακίᾳ διεφθαρμένα, καὶ μάλιστα τῇ περὶ τὰ μέγιστα τῶν ἀνθρωπίνων πραγμάτων ἀμαθίᾳ. ταῦτʼ οὖν ὡς οὕτω γέγονε περὶ τὰ τότε, καὶ νῦν, εἴ που, γίγνεται, καὶ ἐς τὸν ἔπειτα χρόνον οὐκ ἄλλως συμβήσεται, ἐὰν βούλησθε, πειράσομαι ἰὼν κατὰ τὸν ἑξῆς λόγον ἀνευρίσκειν τε καὶ ὑμῖν δηλοῦν κατὰ δύναμιν ὡς οὖσιν φίλοις.
ΚΛ. λόγῳ μὲν τοίνυν σε, ὦ ξένε, ἐπαινεῖν ἐπαχθέστερον, ἔργῳ δὲ σφόδρα ἐπαινεσόμεθα· προθύμως γὰρ τοῖς λεγομένοις ἐπακολουθήσομεν, ἐν οἷς ὅ γε ἐλεύθερος ἐπαινῶν καὶ μὴ μάλιστʼ ἐστὶν καταφανής.
ΜΕ. ἄριστʼ, ὦ Κλεινία, καὶ ποιῶμεν ἃ λέγεις.
ΚΛ. ἔσται ταῦτα, ἐὰν θεὸς ἐθέλῃ. λέγε μόνον.
ΑΘ. φαμὲν δή νυν, καθʼ ὁδὸν ἰόντες τὴν λοιπὴν τοῦ λόγου, τὴν μεγίστην ἀμαθίαν τότε ἐκείνην τὴν δύναμιν ἀπολέσαι καὶ νῦν ταὐτὸν τοῦτο πεφυκέναι ποιεῖν, ὥστε τόν γε νομοθέτην, εἰ τοῦθʼ οὕτως ἔχει, πειρατέον ταῖς πόλεσιν φρόνησιν μὲν ὅσην δυνατὸν ἐμποιεῖν, τὴν δʼ ἄνοιαν ὅτι μάλιστα ἐξαιρεῖν.
ΚΛ. δῆλον.
Ath. Yes. And what is more, I would recall to your recollection, as well as to my own, how it was said (if you remember) at the outset that the legislator of a State, in settling his legal ordinances, must always have regard to wisdom. The injunction you gave was that the good lawgiver must frame all his laws with a view to war: I, on the other hand, maintained that, whereas by your injunction the laws would be framed with reference to one only of the four virtues, it was really essential to look to the whole of virtue, and first and above all to pay regard to the principal virtue of the four, which is wisdom and reason and opinion, together with the love and desire that accompany them. Now the argument has come hack again to the same point, and I now repeat my former statement,—in jest, if you will, or else in earnest; I assert that prayer is a perilous practice for him who is devoid of reason, and that what he obtains is the opposite of his desires. For I certainly expect that, as you follow the argument recently propounded, you will now discover that the cause of the ruin of those kingdoms, and of their whole design, was not cowardice or ignorance of warfare on the part either of the rulers or of those who should have been their subjects; but that what ruined them was badness of all other kinds, and especially ignorance concerning the greatest of human interests. That this was the course of events then, and is so still, whenever such events occur, and will be so likewise in the future,—this, with your permission, I will endeavor to discover in the course of the coming argument, and to make it as clear as I can to you, my very good friends.
Clin. Verbal compliments are in poor taste, Stranger; but by deed, if not by word, we shall pay you the highest of compliments by attending eagerly to your discourse; and that is what best shows whether compliments are spontaneous or the reverse.
Meg. Capital, Clinias! Let us do just as you say.
Clin. It shall be so, God willing. Only say on.
Ath. Well then, to advance further on the track of our discourse,—we assert that it was ignorance, in its greatest form, which at that time destroyed the power we have described, and which naturally produces still the same results; and if this is so, it follows that the lawgiver must try to implant in States as much wisdom as possible, and to root out folly to the utmost of his power.
Clin. Obviously.
ΑΘ. τίς οὖν ἡ μεγίστη δικαίως ἂν λέγοιτο ἀμαθία; σκοπεῖτε εἰ συνδόξει καὶ σφῷν λεγόμενον· ἐγὼ μὲν δὴ τὴν τοιάνδε τίθεμαι.
ΚΛ. ποίαν;
ΑΘ. τὴν ὅταν τῴ τι δόξαν καλὸν ἢ ἀγαθὸν εἶναι μὴ φιλῇ τοῦτο ἀλλὰ μισῇ, τὸ δὲ πονηρὸν καὶ ἄδικον δοκοῦν εἶναι φιλῇ τε καὶ ἀσπάζηται. ταύτην τὴν διαφωνίαν λύπης τε καὶ ἡδονῆς πρὸς τὴν κατὰ λόγον δόξαν ἀμαθίαν φημὶ εἶναι τὴν ἐσχάτην, μεγίστην δέ, ὅτι τοῦ πλήθους ἐστὶ τῆς ψυχῆς· τὸ γὰρ λυπούμενον καὶ ἡδόμενον αὐτῆς ὅπερ δῆμός τε καὶ πλῆθος πόλεώς ἐστιν. ὅταν οὖν ἐπιστήμαις ἢ δόξαις ἢ λόγῳ ἐναντιῶται, τοῖς φύσει ἀρχικοῖς, ἡ ψυχή, τοῦτο ἄνοιαν προσαγορεύω, πόλεώς τε, ὅταν ἄρχουσιν καὶ νόμοις μὴ πείθηται τὸ πλῆθος, ταὐτόν, καὶ δὴ καὶ ἑνὸς ἀνδρός, ὁπόταν καλοὶ ἐν ψυχῇ λόγοι ἐνόντες μηδὲν ποιῶσιν πλέον ἀλλὰ δὴ τούτοις πᾶν τοὐναντίον, ταύτας πάσας ἀμαθίας τὰς πλημμελεστάτας ἔγωγʼ ἂν θείην πόλεώς τε καὶ ἑνὸς ἑκάστου τῶν πολιτῶν, ἀλλʼ οὐ τὰς τῶν δημιουργῶν, εἰ ἄρα μου καταμανθάνετε, ὦ ξένοι, ὃ λέγω.
ΚΛ. μανθάνομέν τε, ὦ φίλε, καὶ συγχωροῦμεν ἃ λέγεις.
ΑΘ. τοῦτο μὲν τοίνυν οὕτω κείσθω δεδογμένον καὶ λεγόμενον, ὡς τοῖς ταῦτʼ ἀμαθαίνουσι τῶν πολιτῶν οὐδὲν ἐπιτρεπτέον ἀρχῆς ἐχόμενον καὶ ὡς ἀμαθέσιν ὀνειδιστέον, ἂν καὶ πάνυ λογιστικοί τε ὦσι καὶ πάντα τὰ κομψὰ καὶ ὅσα πρὸς τάχος τῆς ψυχῆς πεφυκότα διαπεπονημένοι ἅπαντα, τοὺς δὲ τοὐναντίον ἔχοντας τούτων ὡς σοφούς τε προσρητέον, ἂν καὶ τὸ λεγόμενον μήτε γράμματα μήτε νεῖν ἐπίστωνται, καὶ τὰς ἀρχὰς δοτέον ὡς ἔμφροσιν. πῶς γὰρ ἄν, ὦ φίλοι, ἄνευ συμφωνίας γένοιτʼ ἂν φρονήσεως καὶ τὸ σμικρότατον εἶδος; οὐκ ἔστιν, ἀλλʼ ἡ καλλίστη καὶ μεγίστη τῶν συμφωνιῶν μεγίστη δικαιότατʼ ἂν λέγοιτο σοφία, ἧς ὁ μὲν κατὰ λόγον ζῶν μέτοχος, ὁ δὲ ἀπολειπόμενος οἰκοφθόρος καὶ περὶ πόλιν οὐδαμῇ σωτὴρ ἀλλὰ πᾶν τοὐναντίον ἀμαθαίνων εἰς ταῦτα ἑκάστοτε φανεῖται. ταῦτα μὲν οὖν, καθάπερ εἴπομεν ἄρτι, λελεγμένα τεθήτω ταύτῃ.
ΚΛ. κείσθω γὰρ οὖν.
ΑΘ. ἄρχοντας δὲ δὴ καὶ ἀρχομένους ἀναγκαῖον ἐν ταῖς πόλεσιν εἶναί που.
ΚΛ. τί μήν;
Ath. What kind of ignorance would deserve to be called the “greatest”? Consider whether you will agree with my description; I take it to be ignorance of this kind,—
Clin. What kind?
Ath. That which we see in the man who hates, instead of loving, what he judges to be noble and good, while he loves and cherishes what he judges to be evil and unjust. That want of accord, on the part of the feelings of pain and pleasure, with the rational judgment is, I maintain, the extreme form of ignorance, and also the “greatest” because it belongs to the main mass of the soul,— for the part of the soul that feels pain and pleasure corresponds to the mass of the populace in the State. So whenever this part opposes what are by nature the ruling principles—knowledge, opinion, or reason,—this condition I call folly, whether it be in a State, when the masses disobey the rulers and the laws, or in an individual, when the noble elements of reason existing in the soul produce no good effect, but quite the contrary. All these I would count as the most discordant forms of ignorance, whether in the State or the individual, and not the ignorance of the artisan,—if you grasp my meaning, Strangers.
Clin. We do, my dear sir, and we agree with it.
Ath. Then let it be thus resolved and declared, that no control shall be entrusted to citizens thus ignorant, but that they shall be held in reproach for their ignorance, even though they be expert calculators, and trained in all accomplishments and in everything that fosters agility of soul, while those whose mental condition is the reverse of this shall be entitled “wise,” even if—as the saying goes—“they spell not neither do they swim”; and to these latter, as to men of sense, the government shall be entrusted. For without harmony, my friends, how could even the smallest fraction of wisdom exist? It is impossible. But the greatest and best of harmonies would most properly be accounted the greatest wisdom; and therein he who lives rationally has a share, whereas he who is devoid thereof will always prove to be a home-wrecker and anything rather than a saviour of the State, because of his ignorance in these matters. So let this declaration stand, as we recently said, as one of our axioms.
Clin. Yes, let it stand.
Ath. Our States, I presume, must have rulers and subjects.
Clin. Of course.
ΑΘ. εἶεν· ἀξιώματα δὲ δὴ τοῦ τε ἄρχειν καὶ ἄρχεσθαι ποῖά ἐστι καὶ πόσα, ἔν τε πόλεσιν μεγάλαις καὶ σμικραῖς ἔν τε οἰκίαις ὡσαύτως; ἆρʼ οὐχὶ ἓν μὲν τό τε πατρὸς καὶ μητρός; καὶ ὅλως γονέας ἐκγόνων ἄρχειν ἀξίωμα ὀρθὸν πανταχοῦ ἂν εἴη;
ΚΛ. καὶ μάλα.
ΑΘ. τούτῳ δέ γε ἑπόμενον γενναίους ἀγεννῶν ἄρχειν· καὶ τρίτον ἔτι τούτοις συνέπεται τὸ πρεσβυτέρους μὲν ἄρχειν δεῖν, νεωτέρους δὲ ἄρχεσθαι.
ΚΛ. τί μήν;
ΑΘ. τέταρτον δʼ αὖ δούλους μὲν ἄρχεσθαι, δεσπότας δὲ ἄρχειν.
ΚΛ. πῶς γὰρ οὔ;
ΑΘ. πέμπτον γε οἶμαι τὸ κρείττονα μὲν ἄρχειν, τὸν ἥττω δὲ ἄρχεσθαι.
ΚΛ. μάλα γε ἀναγκαῖον ἀρχὴν εἴρηκας.
ΑΘ. καὶ πλείστην γε ἐν σύμπασιν τοῖς ζῴοις οὖσαν καὶ κατὰ φύσιν, ὡς ὁ Θηβαῖος ἔφη ποτὲ Πίνδαρος. τὸ δὲ μέγιστον, ὡς ἔοικεν, ἀξίωμα ἕκτον ἂν γίγνοιτο, ἕπεσθαι μὲν τὸν ἀνεπιστήμονα κελεῦον, τὸν δὲ φρονοῦντα ἡγεῖσθαί τε καὶ ἄρχειν. καίτοι τοῦτό γε, ὦ Πίνδαρε σοφώτατε, σχεδὸν οὐκ ἂν παρὰ φύσιν ἔγωγε φαίην γίγνεσθαι, κατὰ φύσιν δέ, τὴν τοῦ νόμου ἑκόντων ἀρχὴν ἀλλʼ οὐ βίαιον πεφυκυῖαν.
ΚΛ. ὀρθότατα λέγεις.
ΑΘ. θεοφιλῆ δέ γε καὶ εὐτυχῆ τινα λέγοντες ἑβδόμην ἀρχήν, εἰς κλῆρόν τινα προάγομεν, καὶ λαχόντα μὲν ἄρχειν, δυσκληροῦντα δὲ ἀπιόντα ἄρχεσθαι τὸ δικαιότατον εἶναί φαμεν.
ΚΛ. ἀληθέστατα λέγεις.
ΑΘ. «ὁρᾷς δή,» φαῖμεν ἄν, «ὦ νομοθέτα,» πρός τινα παίζοντες τῶν ἐπὶ νόμων θέσιν ἰόντων ῥᾳδίως, «ὅσα ἐστὶ πρὸς ἄρχοντας ἀξιώματα, καὶ ὅτι πεφυκότα πρὸς ἄλληλα ἐναντίως; νῦν γὰρ δὴ στάσεων πηγήν τινα ἀνηυρήκαμεν ἡμεῖς, ἣν δεῖ σε θεραπεύειν. πρῶτον δὲ μεθʼ ἡμῶν ἀνάσκεψαι πῶς τε καὶ τί παρὰ ταῦτα ἁμαρτόντες οἱ περί τε Ἄργος καὶ Μεσσήνην βασιλῆς αὑτοὺς ἅμα καὶ τὴν τῶν Ἑλλήνων δύναμιν, οὖσαν θαυμαστὴν ἐν τῷ τότε χρόνῳ, διέφθειραν. ἆρʼ οὐκ ἀγνοήσαντες τὸν Ἡσίοδον ὀρθότατα λέγοντα ὡς τὸ ἥμισυ τοῦ παντὸς πολλάκις ἐστὶ πλέον; ὁπόταν ᾖ τὸ μὲν ὅλον λαμβάνειν ζημιῶδες, τὸ δʼ ἥμισυ μέτριον, τότε τὸ μέτριον τοῦ ἀμέτρου πλέον ἡγήσατο, ἄμεινον ὂν χείρονος.»
ΚΛ. ὀρθότατά γε.
ΑΘ. πότερον οὖν οἰόμεθα περὶ βασιλέας τοῦτʼ ἐγγιγνόμενον ἑκάστοτε διαφθείρειν πρότερον, ἢ ἐν τοῖσιν δήμοις;
Ath. Very well then: what and how many are the agreed rights or claims in the matter of ruling and being ruled, alike in States, large or small, and in households? Is not the right of father and mother one of them? And in general would not the claim of parents to rule over offspring be a claim universally just?
Clin. Certainly.
Ath. And next to this, the right of the noble to rule over the ignoble; and then, following on these as a third claim, the right of older people to rule and of younger to be ruled.
Clin. To be sure.
Ath. The fourth right is that slaves ought to be ruled, and masters ought to rule.
Clin. Undoubtedly.
Ath. And the fifth is, I imagine, that the stronger should rule and the weaker be ruled.
Clin. A truly compulsory form of rule!
Ath. Yes, and one that is very prevalent among all kinds of creatures, being according to nature, as Pindar of Thebes once said. The most important right is, it would seem, the sixth, which ordains that the man without understanding should follow, and the wise man lead and rule. Nevertheless, my most sapient Pindar, this is a thing that I, for one, would hardly assert to be against nature, but rather according thereto—the natural rule of law, without force, over willing subjects.
Clin. A very just observation.
Ath. Heaven’s favour and good-luck mark the seventh form of rule, where we bring a man forward for a casting of lots, and declare that if he gains the lot he will most justly be ruler, but if he fails he shall take his place among the ruled.
Clin. Very true.
Ath. “Seest thou, O legislator,”—it is thus we might playfully address one of those who lightly start on the task of legislation—“how many are the rights pertaining to rulers, and how they are essentially opposed to one another? Herein we have now discovered a source of factions, which thou must remedy. So do thou, in the first place, join with us in enquiring how it came to pass, and owing to what transgression of those rights, that the kings of Argos and Messene brought ruin alike on themselves and on the Hellenic power, splendid as it was at that epoch. Was it not through ignorance of that most true saying of Hesiod that ‘oftimes the half is greater than the whole’?”
Clin. Most true, indeed.
Ath. Is it our view, then, that this causes ruin when it is found in kings rather than when found in peoples?