what and on what part they guess he strikes it:* for all these things have a double meaning, and it is impossible to know accurately whether they are, or are not, or are both, or neither of the two. How can you act with them then, said I, or what better position have you for them than a medium between being and non-being?-For nothing seems more obscure than non-being as compared with having no being at all, nor more clear than being in respect of real being. Most true, said he. We have discovered then, it seems, that most of the maxims of the people about the beautiful, and those other things, fluctuate somehow between being and non-being. Yes, we have discovered it. But it was formerly agreed at least, that if such a thing were apparent, it ought to be called that which is opined, and not what is known; and that which fluctuates between the two is to be perceived by the intermediate faculty. We agreed. Those then, who contemplate many beautiful things, but yet never perceive beauty itself, and cannot follow another who would lead them to it, and many just things, though not justice itself, and all other things in like manner, these persons, we will say, hold opinions on all things, yet have no accurate knowledge of what they opine. It must be so, said he. But what then, as regards those who perceive each of the objects themselves, always existing in the same manner, and in the *The Scholiast cites the following lines, which he ascribes to Clearchus : αἶνος τίς ἐστιν ὡς ἀνήρ τε κοὐκ ἀνὴρ λίθῳ τε κοὐ λίθῳ βάλοι τε κοὐ βάλοι ἄλλως ἄνθρωπος οὐκ ἄνθρωπος ἄνθρωπος δ' ὅμως, ὄρνιθα, κοὐκ ὄρνιθα, ὄρνιθα δ' ὅμως λίθῳ βάλων με κοὐ λίθῳ διώλεσεν νυκτέριδα ὁ εὐνοῦχος νάρθηκι κισήρει. This is rather an obscure passage, which, however, receives some illustration from the Parmenides (pp. 137 c-155 e), in which the philosopher teaches, among other things, that rò ev (i. e. the one by itself and infinite) is nothing, destitute of all reason and form, void of truth and in no way falling within the cognizance of the mental faculties ;-whereas To ev ov (the one finite-inasmuch as it has form, mode, and reason of existence, - is everything, that is, receives within itself a variety of certain forms, and is capable therefore of being perceived and recognised by opinion, perception, and real knowledge. same relations, shall we not say that they know, and do not opine? This must be the case also. And shall we not say, that these embrace and love the things of which they have knowledge, and the others the things of which they entertain only opinions ;-and remember we not, that we alleged them to behold and love fine sounds and colours, and such things; though beauty itself they do not admit to have any real being? Yes, we remember. Shall we be wrong then in calling them lovers of opinion, rather than philosophers ?-And yet they will be greatly enraged at us, if we call them so. Not, if they be persuaded by me, said he; for it is not right to be enraged at the truth. Those then who embrace and love what has real being, we must call philosophers, and not lovers of opinion? Most assuredly. THE END OF THE FIFTH BOOK. BOOK VI. ARGUMENT. In the sixth book,-continuing the argument respecting the indispensability of true philosophy to a well-ordered state, and the absolute need of distinguishing true from false philosophy (i. e. that of the sophists which throws discredit on the whole pursuit), and likewise from what is warped by prejudice, he goes on to show that a state will be blessed with philosophers for rulers, and shows what is the true subject of true philosophy, as well as the means and manner of learning it,—the sum of which is, that a good púλağ must be provided with all the defences of true science, not with a view to unprofitable speculations, but that all science and all virtue, his moral clothing, may be considered with reference to its real bearing on the common good of human society. Philosophy, says Plato, has for its proper subject the idea of good (the true end of being), and this being the subject, he next goes on to show the mode of becoming acquainted therewith. CHAP. I.-Philosophers then, Glaucon, said I, and those who are not so, have, at length, after a long parade of talk and with some difficulty, been respectively defined. Aye, said he,--for perhaps, it was not easy to do it briefly. It appears not, said I. -I still think, however, that their qualities would have been better exhibited, had we deemed it right to speak about this alone, and not discussed a multitude of other matters while considering the difference between a just and an unjust life. What then, said he, are we to consider next? What else, said I, but that which is next in order?-Since those are philosophers who are able to concern themselves with what always maintains a constant relation, whereas those who cannot effect this, but ruminate among a host of [material objects] that are every way shifting,* are not philosophers;-which of these ought to be the rulers of the state? Which way, said he, shall we define the matter, and * Gr. ἐν πολλοῖς καὶ παντοίως ἴσχουσι πλανωμενον, &c. define correctly? Such of them, said I, as seem capable of preserving the laws and institutions of states, these are to be made guardians. Right, said he. This then, said I, is of course evident,-whether we ought to seek for a guardian one that is blind or one that is sharp-sighted. Of course, that is quite evident, said he. What difference then is there between blind persons and those who are in fact deprived of the knowledge of each individual essence, and have no clear demonstration of it in the soul, and cannot (like painters who look at what is positively true, and refer everything thereto, examining it with all possible accuracy), if need be, form settled notions, of the beautiful, just, and good, and so maintain them, as if sanctioned by law? No, by Zeus, said he;-they do not differ much. Shall we then rather appoint these as our guardians, or those rather who know each individual being, and in experience are not at all inferior to those others, nor behind them in any other department of virtue? It were absurd, said he, to choose any others, if at least they be not deficient in all other matters; since they excel in this, which is the most important. Must we not inquire this then,-in what manner the same persons will be able to have both the one and the other ?* Certainly. As we observed then, at the opening of this liscussion, we must first of all thoroughly understand their disposition; and I think, if we are pretty well agreed about that, we shall agree also, that the same persons are able to possess both these qualities; and none else but these ought to be the governors of states. How so? CHAP. II.-Let us then so far agree about philosophic dispositions, that as respects learning they always covet that which discovers to them that ever-existing essence which does not vary through generation or corruption. Let it be agreed. And likewise, said I, that they desire the whole of such learning, and do not willingly omit any part of it, either small or great, more honourable or more dishonourable, as we formerly observed concerning the ambitious and those engaged in love. You say right, said he. * Gr. kȧkeïva kai Tavтa ëxeiv,—that is, both a practical acquaintance and experience of things, and a more subtle and scientific knowledge of truth. Consider then, in the next place, whether, besides, what we have mentioned, it be necessary for those who would be such as we have described, to have this also in their natures. What? Freedom from falsehood, and never willingly to admit a lie, but rather to hate it through love of truth. It probably would, replied he. It is not only probable, my friend, but quite necessary, that one who naturally loves a thing should love everything that is allied and belongs to the object of his affection. Right, said he. Is there anything that you can find more nearly allied to wisdom than truth? I cannot, said he. Is it possible, then, for the same disposition to be both philosophic, and fond of falsehood? By no means. He then who is really a lover of learning, ought from early infancy wholly to desire all truth? By all means. But we know somehow, that whoever has his desires vehemently set on one object, for this very reason has them weaker as regards other things,-just as a current diverted from its channel. Certainly. Whoever then has his desires running out after learning and such like matters, would be engaged, methinks, with the pleasure of the soul itself, and forsake the pleasures arising from the body, if indeed, he be not a pretender, but a real philosopher. This of course must necessarily follow. Such an one moreover is prudent, and by no means fond of money;— for the reasons why money is so anxiously sought at so great a sacrifice are likely to make any one anxious rather than a man like this. Certainly. And surely you should consider this too, when deciding about a philosophic disposition, and one that is not so. What? That it shall not unconsciously take an illiberal turn,—since narrow-mindedness is most revolting to a soul that is ever earnestly pursuing all that is divine and human. Most true, said he. Think you then, that he who possesses magnificent intellectual conceptions and can contemplate all time and all being, can possibly consider human life as a thing of great consequence? It is impossible, said he. Such an one then will not regard death as anything terrible. Least of all, surely. It seems then, that a cowardly and illiberal disposition will not readily connect itself with true philosophy. I do not think it will. What then ;-can the well-disposed man, who has moderate desires. |