ARGUMENT.
The mode of rightly governing a state having been duly set forth, Plato
in the _eighth book_ treats of the bad government which he had
previously designated as ἀδικία. Having mentioned then three
principal forms of government, monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy,
he shows in this and also the following book the excesses and
defects peculiar to each. He considers these faults in two lights;
first, as affecting the manners of _the citizens individually_; and,
secondly, those of the state collectively. Aristocracy, says he, is
apt to verge into oligarchy,—democracy into ochlarchy, and monarchy
into τιμαρχία and tyranny. The two former classes only are treated
in this book.
CHAP. I.—Well then, Glaucon, these things have been agreed on, that in a
state that is to be perfectly administered the women are to be in
common, the children in common, and their education also,—so likewise
their employments both in war and peace in common, and their kings the
best possible both in philosophy and warfare. It has been so agreed, he
replied. And this, moreover, we agreed on, that when the commanders are
appointed and leading their soldiers, they should dwell in habitations,
such as we have described, containing nothing particularly belonging to
any individual, but common to all; and besides these habitations, we
agreed also, if you recollect, as to their possessions, to what sort
they should be entitled. Aye, I recollect, said he, that we thought them
entitled to no possessions whatever, like the other citizens, but that,
like military wrestlers and guardians, they should receive the yearly
pay of their service in maintenance provided by the rest, and should
take care both of themselves and the rest of the state. You say rightly,
said I:—but come,—since we have settled these matters, let us recollect
from what point we made this digression, in order that we may again take
up the same argument. No hard matter, said he;—for you were pursuing
much about the same argument respecting the state, as you did just now,
when saying that you considered such a state to be good as you then
described, and the individual man also analogous thereto,—and this, too,
as it seems, when you were able to define both a better state and a
better man. You said, moreover, that all the rest were wrong, if this
were right;—and of the other kinds of states you said, I remember, that
four were deserving of consideration, with the view of seeing the errors
therein and the people thereto corresponding,—in order that by seeing
all these and deciding on the best and worst man, we might inquire
whether the best be the happiest, and the worst the most wretched or
otherwise:—and when I inquired which were the four kinds of states to
which you referred, on this Polemarchus and Adimantus interrupted
us;[228] and so now resuming the subject you have arrived at this point.
You have recollected it, said I, with great accuracy. Once more then,
like a wrestler, furnish me with the same handle; and when I ask the
same question, try to say just what you were then about to tell me. Aye,
said I, if I can. Moreover, said he, I am anxious also myself to hear
what those four kinds of states were. You shall hear that, and welcome,
said I:—for, of those which I can mention and which have names,—that
praised by the multitude is the Cretan and Lacedæmonian polity,—the
second, and that which deserves the second praise, called oligarchy, a
polity full of abundant evils,—that which differs from it, and follows
next in order, democracy,—and then genuine tyranny, [or monarchy,]
differing from all the others, the fourth and last ailment of the
state:—surely you have no other form of polity, having a distinct and
established species?—for small principalities and purchased kingdoms,
and such-like polities as these, are of an intermediate class, and may
be found no less among barbarians than Greeks. Aye, indeed, said
he;—many are mentioned, and those, too, absurd enough.
-----
Footnote 228:
This refers to the interruption at the beginning of the fifth book,
when, Socrates being about to describe the four kinds of wickedness in
both individuals and states, was desired to develop his notions about
the community of women and children.
-----
CHAP. II.—Do you know, then, said I, that of men there are as many
descriptions as of states?—or do you think that states, somehow or
other, spring out of an oak or a rock, and not out of the habits of
those in the state, whither, indeed, everything else must verge and be
attracted? I, for my part, think it is derived from no other source than
that. In that case, if there be five kinds of states, the intellectual
distinctions of the individuals will be five likewise. Of course. As for
the person then, who resembles an aristocracy, we have already described
him, and rightly pronounced him to be both good and just. Aye, we have
described him. Are we then, in the next place, to argue about the
inferior,—the contentious and ambitious man formed according to the
Spartan model, and him again, who resembles an oligarchy, or a
democracy, or a tyranny, in order that we may contemplate the most
unjust, and contrast him with the most just, and thus our inquiry may be
complete, how unmingled justice stands in opposition to unmingled
injustice, as respects the happiness or misery of its possessor,—thus
either pursuing injustice in compliance with Thrasymachus’s suggestion,
or else justice in compliance with our present argument? We must do so,
by all means, said he. Are we then, just as we began, to consider moral
habits in states primarily, or rather in private individuals, as being
there more clearly developed; and now must we not thus first consider
the ambitious republic (for I cannot call it by any other term, but only
denominate it a timocracy or a timarchy), and in connexion with it an
individual of the same character,—then again an oligarchy and a man of
oligarchical character,—and so also, when considering a democracy, must
we contemplate a democratic person,—and, fourthly, coming to a state
governed by a tyrant, consider a person of tyrannical disposition;—thus
trying to become competent judges about what we proposed? According to
reason, indeed, such should be both our view and decision.
CHAP. III.—Come then, said I;—let us try to show in what way a timocracy
arises out of an aristocracy:—is it not plain, at any rate, that every
government changes through the agency of that portion which holds the
public offices, whenever sedition arises in that particular part;
whereas, if it only agree with itself, however small the state, it
cannot possibly be disturbed? Such is the case. How then, Glaucon, said
I, will our state be disturbed and how will our allies and rulers fall
into quarrels with each other and amongst themselves:—do you wish, like
Homer, that we implore the muses to tell us how first sedition rose, and
address them in tragic fashion, as if we were children, playing and
jesting, so to speak, with seriousness uttering lofty language? How so?
Somehow thus:—it is hard indeed for a state thus constituted to become
disturbed;—but, as everything generated is liable to corruption, not
even such a constitution as this can abide for ever, but must be
dissolved:—and its dissolution is as follows.—Not only as regards
terrestrial plants, but likewise terrestrial animals, a fertility and
sterility both of soul and body take place, when the revolutions of the
heavenly bodies complete the periphery of their respective orbits, which
are shorter to the shorter-lived, and contrariwise to the contrary: and
with reference to the fertility and sterility of your race, though those
are wise whom you have trained as governors of the state, yet they will
never, by intellect and sense united, observe the proper season for
procreation, but let it slip by, and sometimes generate children when
they ought not.—To that, however, which is divinely generated, there is
a period which is comprehended by the perfect number; whereas, to that
generated by man, there is one, in which the augmentations, both
surpassing and surpassed, after having received three separations and
four boundaries of things similar and dissimilar, increasing and
decreasing, will render all things correspondent and rational;—of which
the sesquiternian root, conjoined with the pentad and thrice increased,
affords two harmonies,—one of these, the equally equal, just a hundred
times as much;—while the other, of equal length indeed, but of oblong
shape, is of a hundred numbers from effable diameters of the pentad,
each wanting one, two of which are irrational and of a hundred cubes of
the triad.—And the whole of this geometric number is, having such an
influence, concerned with worse and better generations.[229] Now, if our
governors be ignorant of this, and join our couples together
unseasonably, the children will neither possess talent, nor be fortunate
either; and though former governors should have placed the best of them
in office, nevertheless as they are unworthy of it, and only come into
the power which their fathers had, they will begin to neglect us in
their guardianship, holding music first of all, and then gymnastics in
less esteem than they ought, and hence our young men will become too
little disposed to music;—in consequence of which the governors to be
appointed from among them will not be very clever guardians, as respects
proving, according to Hesiod and ourselves, what are the several species
of talents, the golden, the silver, the brazen, and the iron. Where
iron, however, mingles with silver, and brass with gold, then there
arises a dissimilitude and unharmonious unevenness;—(and when this is
the case, wherever it prevails, it perpetually generates war and
hatred;)—we must say that sedition belongs to such a race as this,
whenever it arises. Aye,—and we shall say that the answer was correctly
given, replied he. Aye, and it must be so too, said I—as they are Muses.
What then, said he, do the Muses say next? Sedition having once arisen,
said I, two classes of genius,—the iron and the brazen, will be allured
to gain, and the acquisition of land and houses, gold and silver,—while
the golden and silver, not being in poverty but naturally rich, will
lead souls to virtue and their original constitution; whereas, should
they be violent and strive one against the other, they would agree to
divide their lands and houses as individual possessions; and then,
enslaving those formerly guarded by them as freemen, friends, and
tutors, keep them as denizens and slaves, themselves providing for war
and their own protection. This revolution, said he, seems to me to have
just this origin. Will not then this government, said I, be a medium
between aristocracy and oligarchy? Certainly.
-----
Footnote 229:
This passage, descriptive of the geometric or fatal number, has
baffled the ingenuity of every commentator. Any literal translation is
little better than nonsense, and any explanation would be too long for
a mere note. The views of Baroccius, Schneider, &c. are given in a
dissertation at the end of the volume;—but they are all far from
satisfactory.
-----
CHAP. IV.—Thus then will the revolution be effected, and when it has
taken place, what arrangement will then be made?—Is it not plain, that
in some things they will follow the pattern of the former republic, and
in others oligarchy, as halfway between the two, and having something
also peculiar to itself? Just so, he replied. Will they, then, in
honouring their rulers, in allowing their military to abstain from
agriculture, as with us from mechanical and other money-making pursuits,
in establishing common meals, and in studying both gymnastics and
military contests,—in all these things will they not follow the pattern
of the last form of government? Yes. But, through the fear of admitting
wise men into the magisterial office, inasmuch as the state no longer
possesses men who are simple and resolute, but only such as are of a
mixed character,—and through an inclination towards the high-spirited
and even simple, naturally more suited for war than peace, and also
towards those who are clever at tricks and schemes, spending their whole
time in continual war;—in all these respects, will it not possess many
such things as are peculiar to itself? Yes. And such as these, said I,
will ever be lovers of wealth, just like those in oligarchies, and will
have a wild though disguised love for gold and silver, as if they
possessed treasuries of their own and domestic storehouses in which to
hoard and hide them,—and circularly-enclosed houses also,—nests as it
were wholly their own, in which they can lose and spend much, together
with their own wives and such others as they fancy. Most true, said he.
Well then,—will they not from their love of wealth be sparing of it
also, though not openly acquiring it, but disposed to squander other
people’s property through lustful desire and secret indulgence in
pleasure;—just as children escaping from parental law, who have been
brought up not by persuasion but force, owing to their neglect of the
true muse, which unites reasoning and philosophy and the preference also
which they give to gymnastics over music? It is quite a mixed
government, said he, of which you are now speaking,—compounded of good
and ill. Aye, mixed indeed, said I:—but the most remarkable thing in it
is what simply arises from the prevalence of high spirit,—contention and
ambition. Aye, just so, said he. Such then is the origin and character
of this form of government, if one may ideally sketch it without giving
a complete description,—though enough for us to see from this
sketch,—who is the just and the unjust man; and it were a work of
tedious length to argue on all governments and all the various manners
of men without any exception whatever. Quite right, said he.
CHAP. V.—What then will the individual be, who corresponds to this form
of government;—how did he become so: and what is his nature? I think
indeed, said Adimantus, he has a tendency to be like this Glaucon here,
as far at least as concerns the love of contention. Perhaps so, said I,
as to this particular;—but I think, that in these respects he cannot at
all resemble him. How? He must necessarily, said I, be more self-willed,
and somewhat unapt to music, though fond of it; and fond of hearing, but
by no means a rhetorician:—such an one will be rough towards the slaves,
without despising them, as the man does who is fairly educated. He will
be polite towards the free, submissive to governors, a lover of dominion
and honour,—not thinking it proper to govern by eloquence or anything of
the kind, but by political management and military achievements, being a
lover of gymnastics and hunting. This indeed, said he, is the spirit of
that form of government. And will not such an one, said I, despise money
during his youth, but the older he grows, always value it the more,
because he partakes of the covetous disposition, and is not sincerely
affected towards virtue, because destitute of the best guardian? Of what
guardian? said Adimantus. Reason, said I, accompanied with music, which
being the only inbred preservative of virtue, dwells with the possessor
through the whole of life. You say well, he replied. And surely the
timocratic youth, said I, resembles such a state. Certainly. And such an
one, said I, is somehow thus formed.—He may happen perhaps to be the
youthful son of a worthy father, dwelling in an ill-governed state, and
shunning public honours, magisterial offices, lawsuits, and all such
public business, content to live neglected in obscurity, that he may
have no trouble. In what manner then, said he, is he formed? First of
all, said I, when he hears his mother complaining that her husband is
not in magisterial office, and that she is on this account neglected
among other women, and then sees that he is not over attentive to the
acquisition of wealth, and does not wrangle and quarrel privately and
publicly in the law courts, but on all these occasions acts
indolently;—and when she perceives him always attentive to himself, and
treating her neither with extreme respect nor contempt;—on all these
accounts, she is filled with indignation, and tells her son that his
father is unmanly, extremely careless, and whatever else wives are wont
to chant about such matters. Aye,—many things, truly, said Adimantus,
and quite in accordance with their spirit.—And you know, said I, that
the domestics likewise of such families, such of them as would be
thought good-natured, sometimes say privately the very same to the sons;
and if they see either a debtor whom the father does not sue, or any one
otherwise acting unjustly, they exhort him to punish all such persons
when he comes to manhood, and to be more of a man than his father.—And
when he goes abroad, he hears other such-like things, and sees also that
such in the state as attend to their own affairs are called simple, and
held in little esteem, while such as do not attend to their affairs are
both honoured and commended.—The youth then who hears and sees all this,
and then again hears his father’s speeches, and closely observes his
pursuits in contrast with those of others, is drawn in two opposite
directions,—his father irrigating and promoting the growth of his
rational part, and the others his passions and high spirit;—and so,
being not naturally bad, but spoiled only by evil connexion with others,
he is brought to a mean between both and delivers up the government
within himself to a middle power,—the love of contention and high
spirit:—and so he becomes a haughty and ambitious man. I think, said he,
you have quite correctly explained the training of such a person.—We
have here then, said I, the second form of government and the second
individual. Aye,—we have, said he.
CHAP. VI.—Shall we not then after this say with Æschylus,—
Where state to state,—then each to each incline;—
or rather, shall we, according to our plan, establish the state first?
Certainly, he replied. It would be an oligarchy then, methinks, that
would succeed such a government as this. But what constitution is it,
said he, that you call an oligarchy? That government, said I, which is
founded on the estimate of men’s property;—in which the rich rule, and
the poor have no share in the government. Aye,—I understand, said he.
Should we not, first of all explain, how the change is made from a
timocracy to an oligarchy? We should. And surely the way, in which this
change is made, said I, is manifest even to the blind! How? That
treasury, said I, which each one fills with gold destroys such a state;
for, first of all, they discover for themselves modes of expense, for
which they set aside the laws,—both themselves and their wives
disobeying them. Very likely, said he, and afterwards, I think, when one
observes another, and enters into rivalry, the people generally become
of this character. It is likely. And thence then, said I, as they
advance in the intensity of the desire for acquiring wealth, the more
honourable they account this, the more dishonourable will they deem
virtue;—for is not virtue so at variance with wealth, that, supposing
each to be placed at the opposite end of a balance, they would always
weigh the one against the other? Justly so, he replied. While wealth
then and the wealthy are honoured in the state, both virtue and good men
must necessarily be held in dishonour? It is plain. And what is honoured
is always pursued, while what is dishonoured is neglected? Just so.
Instead then of being contentious and ambitious men, they have at last
become lovers of gain and wealth;—and the rich they praise and admire,
elevating them to the magistracy, while the poor man they quite despise.
Certainly. And do they not enact laws, marking out the boundary of the
oligarchal constitution, and regulating the quantity of oligarchal power
by the quantity of wealth,—allotting more to the more wealthy and less
to those less so, intimating that he who has not the amount settled by
law can have no share in the government;—and do they not settle these
matters compulsorily, by force of arms, establishing such a state after
previous intimidation?—Is it not thus? Aye, indeed. This then, so to
speak, is its constitution? Yes, replied he. What then is the nature of
the government, and what are the faults thereto ascribed? First of all,
said I, of this very thing, the constitution itself, what think you?—for
consider, if a person were thus to appoint pilots of ships, by the
amount of their property never intrusting one of them with a poor man,
though better skilled in piloting,—what would then be the consequence?
They would make a very bad voyage, he replied. And is it not the same
about any other matter, or any presiding office whatever? I think so. Is
it always so, except in a state, said I; or is it so as regards a state
likewise? There, beyond all others, said he; inasmuch as it is the most
difficult, and most important kind of government. Oligarchy then would
seem to have this unquestionably very great fault. So it seems. But
what;—is this no less a fault? What? That such a state is not integrally
one, but necessarily two; one containing the poor, and the other the
rich, dwelling in one place and always plotting against one another. By
Zeus, said he, not a whit less;—and this besides is a fine thing,—the
incapacity of waging war, through the necessity, either of employing the
armed multitude, who are to be dreaded more than the enemy themselves,
or else refusing to employ them at all, and so appearing quite
oligarchical in battle,—being unwilling also to advance money for the
public service, through a natural disposition to covetousness? This is
not well. What then;—with reference to what we long ago
condemned,—engaging in a variety of pursuits, the same persons in such a
state giving their attendance all at once to agriculture, money-making,
and military affairs; does this seem right? Not at all, of course.
CHAP. VII.—Let us see, then,—does this form of government above all
others introduce this greatest of all evils? What is that? The
permission to each person of selling the whole of his effects, and to
another of purchasing them from him, and the privilege to the seller of
dwelling in our state, though he belongs to no one class therein, and
can be called neither a money-maker, nor mechanic, nor horseman, nor
foot-soldier, but poor and destitute. Yes, above all others, he replied.
Such a thing is not prevented in oligarchal governments; for, in that
case some of them would not be over-rich, and others altogether poor.
Right. But consider this likewise;—when such a rich man as this spends
his property, would it do the state any more service, as regards the
objects just mentioned; or did he only seem to be one of the
magistrates, while in truth he was neither magistrate nor servant to the
state, but only a consumer of its substance? Aye,—he did seem so, he
replied;—he was nothing but a consumer. Do you desire, then, said I,
that we should say of him, that, as a drone in a beehive brings ailment
among the whole swarm, just so, such a person as this, like a drone in
his house, is the ailment of a state? Quite so, Socrates, he replied.
And has not God, Adimantus, made all the winged drones without any
sting,—and those that have feet, some without stings, and some with
dreadful stings?—And do not those that are without stings continue poor
to old age:—whereas those that have stings, are those that we called
mischievous? Most true, said he. It is plain then, said I, that in a
state where you would observe poor people, there are doubtless concealed
thieves, cutpurses, sacrilegious persons, and workers of all such evils.
Evidently so, said he. What then? Do not you find poor people in states
that are placed under oligarchal government? Almost all are so, said he,
except the governors themselves. And do we not think, said I, that they
contain within them many mischievous persons with stings, whom the
magistrates must restrain by vigilance and compulsory measures? We do
indeed think so, said he. And must we not say, that it is through want
of education, bad nurture, and a corrupt constitution of state, that
persons of this character are here engendered? Yes we must. Well then,
is not the state oligarchally governed when under an oligarchy of this
character; and is it not affected by all these evils, and probably more
too? It is nearly so, said he. Let us distinguish then this form of
government likewise, said I, which they call oligarchy, as one having
its governors [elected] according to the valuation of their property.
CHAP. VIII.—Next let us consider the man who is analogous to this [form
of government,] how he is formed and what is his character. By all
means, said he. Is it not thus then chiefly that the individual man
changes from the timocratic to the oligarchic form? How? When such an
one has a son, he, first of all, emulates his father, and follows his
steps; afterwards, when he sees him suddenly dashed on the state [like a
ship] on a rock, squandering his property and ruining himself, either at
the head of the army, or in some other high magisterial office,—then
falling into the law-courts, ruined by public informers, and either put
to death, or exiled, and stripped of his honours and entire property. It
is likely, said he. Aye, my friend, and after seeing and suffering this,
and losing his property, he instantly, through fear, I think, pushes
headlong from the throne within his soul, his ambitious, lofty temper,
and at length, humbled by poverty, turns his attention to gain, lives
meanly and sparingly, and by hard labour acquires wealth;—do you not
think that such a man will seat on that throne in his soul a covetous
and money-loving spirit, making it a mighty king within himself, and
girding it, as it were, with tiaras, and bracelets, and sceptres? I
think so, said he. But, as for the principles of reason and high spirit,
having laid them both at his feet on either side as mere slaves, he
forbids the one to reason at all, or at any rate to inquire into aught
else, except by what means a smaller amount of property can be made
greater; and the other, again, to admire and honour anything but riches
and the rich, and to receive honour with any other view than the
acquisition of money, or whatever else may tend thereto. There is no
change, said he, so sudden and powerful as that of an ambitious to an
avaricious man. Is not this, then, said I, the oligarchic man? Aye—the
change which he undergoes is from a person who resembles that government
from which oligarchy arises. Shall we consider, now, if he does at all
resemble it? Let us consider.
CHAP. IX.—Does he not, in the first place, resemble it in valuing money
above all things? Of course he does. And he does so surely in being
sparing and laborious, satisfying only his necessary desires, and not
allowing himself any other expenses, but subduing the other desires as
foolish. Certainly. And in being, said I, a sordid kind of man, making
gain of everything, intent on hoarding,—one, such as the multitude
extols, will not this be the man that resembles such a form of
government? Aye, I think so, he replied: wealth at least must be highly
valued by the state, as well as by the individual of such a character.
Aye,—for I do not think, said I, that such a man has attended to
education. I do not think he has, said he; for he would not then have
chosen a blind guide for his chorus.[230] But further still, consider
this attentively, said I;—must we not say that, owing to his want of
education, dronish desires springing in him, some of them beggarly, and
some mischievous, forcibly kept under restraint by the rest of his
pursuits? Just so, said he. Do you know, then, said I, where you will
best observe their wickedness? Where? said he. [By looking] at their
tutelage of orphans, or whatever else of this kind comes in their way,
so as to give them much power to do injustice. True. Is not this then
quite clear, that in all other kinds of contracts, wherever such an one
gains approbation, by the mere semblance of justice, he restrains the
other wrong desires within him by exercising a certain moderation, not
from any persuasion that it is not better to indulge them, nor from
sober reason, but from necessity and fear, because he trembles for the
remainder of his property? Certainly, said he. Aye, by Zeus, said I, my
friend, most of them, when they want to spend the property of others,
display passions much akin to those of drones. Yes, exceedingly so,
observed he. Such a person as this, then, will not be free from internal
discord; nor be integrally one, but a kind of double man; possessing
desires, however, that are at variance with one another, the better,
usually, governing the worse. It is so. On these accounts, then, such an
one, methinks, will present a better appearance than many others; though
the true virtue of a harmonized and consistent soul will wholly escape
him. Aye, it seems so. And the sparing man, either privately or in the
state, will be but a poor rival, as regards any victory or other
struggle for honour; because either for reputation’s sake, or any such
contests, he is unwilling to spend his property, through fear of
kindling expensive desires, and calling them into alliance or
rivalry;—and warring, as he does, in oligarchic fashion, with only a few
of his resources, he is in most cases defeated, though he still
contrives to get rich. Quite so, replied he. Can we any longer hesitate,
said I, to rank the niggard and the money-maker as resembling a state
under an oligarchy? By no means, said he.
-----
Footnote 230:
Allusion is here made to Plutus, the god of riches,—who is usually
represented blind. The word χοροῦ, which is the reading of the best
MSS., refers to the noisy crowd of desires that hurry a man through
life.
-----
CHAP. X.—Democracy, as it seems, must next be considered,—how it arises,
and when once arisen, what kind of man it produces;—in order that
understanding the nature of such a man, we may at once bring him to
trial. Yes, said he;—that would be our consistent course. Well then,
said I, is not the change from oligarchy to democracy produced in some
such way as this,—through the insatiable desire of the proposed good,
viz. the desire of becoming as rich as possible? How? Inasmuch as its
governors govern through the possession of great wealth, they will have
no wish, methinks, to restrain by law the profligate portion of the
young men from squandering and wasting their property at pleasure;
because, by purchasing such persons’ effects, and lending on usury, they
will not only be still more enriched, but held in higher repute. Far
more so than any other. This, then, is already quite clear in our state,
that to honour riches, and at the same time practise temperance, is
impossible, since either the one or the other must necessarily be
neglected. Of course, that is quite plain, said he. While, therefore,
they are neglectful in oligarchies, and allow the youths to indulge in
licentiousness, they must necessarily sometimes bring men to poverty,
even those that are not ignoble. Quite so. And these, I suppose, stand
in our state both spurred, and in armour; some in debt, others in
disgrace, others in both, hating and conspiring against those who have
got what belonged to them, and against others also, for mere love of
change. Aye, such is the case. These usurers, however, bent on their own
interests, and apparently unobservant of these, wound all that ever
yield to them by advancing them money, and so, by getting multiplied
interest for the parent principal,[231] fill the state with many a drone
and pauper. Aye, with many a one, he replied. And even when such an evil
is raging in the state, said I, they are not willing to extinguish it,
not even by restraining people from spending their property at pleasure,
nor yet in this way by making another law to destroy such disorders.
What law? One that shall follow the other, compelling the citizens to
cultivate virtue; for if they were bidden to engage in voluntary
contracts chiefly at their own hazard, their usurers would create less
scandal in the state, and fewer also of the evils now mentioned would
arise therein. Far fewer, said he. At present, however, said I, it is by
all these means that the governors in the state thus dispose of the
governed; and both as to themselves and those belonging to them, do they
not render the youths luxurious and idle as respects all bodily and
mental exercises, effeminate in bearing pleasure and pains, and indolent
likewise? What else? And as to themselves, they neglect everything but
the acquisition of wealth, and pay no more regard to virtue than the
poor? No, surely. Having then been thus trained up, when the governors
and their subjects are thrown together, either on a journey along the
road, or in other meetings, either at public spectacles, or on warlike
expeditions, either as fellow-sailors or fellow-soldiers, or when they
see one another in real dangers, the poor in this case are by no means
despised by the rich;—but very often a robust fellow, poor and sunburnt,
whose post in battle is by the side of a rich man bred up in the shade,
and swoln with much unnecessary fat,[232] if he should see him panting
for breath and in agony,—think you not, he will consider such persons to
grow rich to their own injury, and will say to his fellow, when meeting
in private, that our rich men are good for nothing? Of course, I well
know, said he, that they do so. Well then, as a diseased body needs but
the smallest shock from without to give it pain, and is sometimes thrown
into disorder without any interference from without, so also the state
that resembles it will, on the smallest occasion from without, either
when one party forms an alliance with an oligarchal, or the other with a
democratic state, become disorded, and fight with itself, and also rise
in revolt without any external interference. Yes, certainly. A democracy
then, I think, arises, when the poor prevailing over the rich, kill
some, and banish others, and share the state-offices and magistracies
equally among the remainder; and for the most part the magistracies
therein are disposed of by lot. Aye, said he, this is the establishment
of a democracy, whether it be effected through force of arms, or from
the withdrawal of the other party through fear.
-----
Footnote 231:
The word πατήρ is here used to signify the principal sum (τὸ
κεφάλαιον), from which the interest (τόκοι or τὰ ἔκγονα) are derived.
Comp. b. vi. ch. 18, p. 196.
Footnote 232:
Gr. πολλάκις ἰσχνὸς ἀνὴρ πένης, ἡλιώμενος, παραταχθεὶς ἐν μάχῃ πλουσίῳ
ἐσκιατροφήκοτι, πολλὰς ἔχοντι σάρκας ἀλλοτρίας, &c.
-----
CHAP. XI.—In what way then, said I, do these live,—and what will be the
character of this government;—for it is plain, that a man of this kind
will appear democratic? It is plain, said he. First, then, are they not
free, and is not the state full of freedom of action, and speech, and
each one at liberty to do what he pleases? So it is said, he replied.
And where there is liberty, every one will evidently regulate his own
plan of life just as he pleases? Plainly so. Under such a government
especially, methinks, men of all characters will spring up. Of course.
This, said I, seems likely to be the best of all governments;—just as a
various-coloured robe, embroidered with flowers of all kinds,—so will
this appear best, variegated as it is with all sorts of manners. Of
course, said he. And perhaps too, said I, the multitude will reckon this
the best, just as children and women looking at embroidered dresses.
Very likely, said he. Aye, my excellent friend, here is a state in which
we may fitly look for a government. How so? Because it comprises all
kinds of government on the score of its liberty; and it seems necessary
for one that desires to establish a state, as we are now doing, to come
to any democratic state, the form of which he likes, as to a general
political fair, and establish that which he has chosen. Aye, said he, he
would probably be in no want of models. Is not this, said I, a divine
and pleasant kind of life for the present,—that there be no need of
governing in this state, even though you be able to do so,—nor yet of
being a subject, unless you please,—nor of engaging in war because
others do,—nor of keeping peace when others keep it, unless you desire
peace;—nor again, though there be a law that restrains you from
governing or administering justice, yet you no less shall govern and
administer justice, if so disposed? It is likely, said he;—in this
particular at least. But what; is not their lenience towards some of
those who are condemned very polite; and in such a government did you
never yet see its lenity towards men condemned to death or banishment,
who nevertheless remain there in open intercourse, the banished man,
too, returning like a hero as if no one attended to or observed him?
Aye, many, he replied. But this indulgence of the state,—not to mention
the small regard, and even contempt which it shows for all that we
deemed so important when settling our state, as that, unless a man had a
most exalted nature,[233] he would never become a good man, except he
had from childhood upwards delighted in noble actions, and diligently
followed all such pursuits;—how magnanimously does it despise and think
as naught all these things, evincing an utter disregard as to the kind
of pursuits from which a man comes to engage in politics, though it
honours him if he only declares himself well affected towards the
multitude? How very generous, he rejoined. These then, said I, and
others akin to these, are to be found in democracy; and it seems to be a
pleasant sort of government, both anarchical and variegated,
distributing a certain equality to all alike, both equals and unequals.
Aye, you say, he replied, what is perfectly well known.
-----
Footnote 233:
Gr. ὑπερβεβλημένην φύσιν. Euripides uses a similar expression in the
Alcestis, v. 155:—τί χρὴ γενέσθαι τὴν ὑπερβεβλημένην—γυναῖκα.
-----
CHAP. XII.—Consider then, said I, what kind of man such an one is in
private; or shall we first consider, as we did with respect to the
government, in what manner he is formed? Yes, said he. Is he not then
formed in this manner,—namely, from the parsimonious man who was under
the oligarchy,—as a son, trained up under his father according to his
habits? Of course. Such an one forcibly governs his own pleasures,—such
as are expensive, but not tending to the acquisition of wealth, which
are hence called unnecessary. It is plain, said he. That we may not
argue in the dark then, said I, let us first, if you please, determine
what desires are necessary, and what are not. Willingly, said he. May
not such be justly called necessary, which we cannot get rid of, and the
gratification of which does us service? For both these kinds our nature
must necessarily seek after; must it not? Quite so. This then, we may
justly say, is a necessary part to these desires? Justly. But what now?
Such desires as a man may relinquish, if he try to do so from his youth,
and which while they remain, do no good, if we say of these that they
are not necessary, shall we not say right? Right, indeed. Let us select
a pattern of each, that we may understand from example what they are.
Quite right. Is not the desire of eating necessary so far as is
conducive to health and a good habit of body, and the desire of food and
victuals? I think so. The desire of food, at least, is necessary on two
accounts, as being advantageous in itself, and because the want of it
must bring life to an end.[234] It is. And the desire of victuals is
likewise necessary, as contributing towards a good habit of body.
Certainly. But what?—even such desire as goes beyond these things, or
any other sorts of meats, and yet can be curbed from youth, and trained
to abstain from most things, and which is hurtful both to body and soul
as regards the attainment of wisdom and temperance, may not that be
rightly called unnecessary? Most rightly, indeed. May we not say then
that these too are expensive, and the others frugal, as they conduce
towards the actions of life? Of course. We may speak in the same manner,
surely, of venereal, and the other desires? In the same manner. And did
we not, by him whom we just now called the drone, indicate a person full
of such desires and pleasures, and governed by those that are
unnecessary; but one governed by those merely necessary, a parsimonious
man, and disposed to an oligarchy? Without doubt.
-----
Footnote 234:
Gr. ᾗ τε ὠφέλιμος σῖτος, ᾗ τε παῦσαι ζῶντα δυνατή,—i.e. if there be no
sufficient supply,—the general meaning being, that the desire for food
is not only useful, but indispensable to the maintenance of life.
-----
CHAP. XIII.—Let us again mention, said I, how the democratic man arises
out of the oligarchic; and to me he appears to arise chiefly thus. How?
When a young man brought up, as we now mentioned, without proper
instruction, and in niggard fashion, comes to taste the drones’ honey,
and associates with those fiery, terrible creatures who can procure all
sorts and varieties of pleasures, and from every quarter;—then you may
conceive, he somehow begins to change the oligarchic for the democratic
character. It must be so, he observed. Well then, just as the state was
changed by the aid of another party from without to which it was
related, is not the youth so changed likewise, through the aid of one
species of desires from without, to others within him, which resemble
them and are allied thereto? By all means. And methinks, if any alliance
should come to counteract the oligarchic principle within him, either
through his father or other relatives, admonishing and upbraiding him,
then truly will arise sedition, opposition, and an internal struggle
against himself. Undoubtedly. And sometimes, indeed, I think the
democratic yields to the oligarchic principle, and some of the desires
are destroyed, while others retire, because a certain modesty is
engendered in the youth’s soul, and he is again restored to order. This
is sometimes the case, said he. And again, I suppose, when some desires
retire, others allied to them secretly grow up, which through neglect of
parental instruction, become both many and powerful. This is usually the
case, said he. They draw them then towards the same intimacies as
before, and through their connexions secretly generate a multitude? What
else? And in the end, I think, they seize the citadel of the youth’s
soul, because they find it empty, as regards virtuous pursuits and true
reasoning,—the best guardians and preservers of the rational part of men
dear to the gods. Just so, said he. And then, indeed false and arrogant
reasonings and opinions rush up in their stead, and take their place in
such people. Assuredly, said he. And does he not then come once more,
and dwell openly among those Lotophagi?[235]—And if any aid come from
intimate friends to strengthen the parsimonious principle within him,
these said arrogant reasonings, by shutting against it the gates of the
royal wall, neither permit the alliance itself, nor allow the
ambassadorial admonitions of individual old men, but struggle against
them and maintain themselves in power;—and as for modesty, they call it
stupidity, and thrust it out into disgraceful exile, while temperance
they call unmanliness, load it with abuse, and then expel it;—and as for
moderation and decent expense, they persuade themselves that they are
nothing else but rusticity and illiberality, and banish them from their
territories, with many other unprofitable desires. Assuredly, they do.
Having emptied and purified from all these desires, the soul, thus held
by them, and initiated in the great mysteries,[236] they next introduce
with encomiums and false eulogies, indolence and anarchy, extravagance
and shamelessness, shining with a great retinue, and wearing
crowns,—calling insolence, good-breeding,—anarchy, liberty,—luxury,
magnificence,—and impudence, manliness. Is it not, said I, somehow
thus,—that a youth, after being bred up with necessary desires falls
away into the license and dissoluteness induced by needless and
unprofitable pleasures? Yes, plainly so, he replied. Such an one, then,
methinks, thenceforth passes his life, spending his property, labour,
and time as much on necessary as unnecessary pleasures, but if he be
fortunate and not unusually excited by passion, he, as he advances in
years, and the sovereignty of the passions is subdued, re-admits part of
those expelled, and does not deliver himself wholly up to mere
intruders, but regulates his pleasures on the principle of equality, and
so lives, giving himself up to each incidental desire that happens to
rule him, till he is sated,—and then another, undervaluing none, but
indulging all alike. Quite so, of course. And yet such an one, said I,
will not listen to true reasoning, nor admit it into his
stronghold,—should he be told that some pleasures are attached to
honourable and virtuous desires, others to those that are depraved, and
that he should pursue and honour the former, but chastise and hold
captive the latter,—but in all these cases will dissent, and say that
they are all alike, and to be held in equal honour. Assuredly, said he,
one thus affected, does this. Well then, said I, thus does he daily
live, gratifying every incidental desire, sometimes getting drunk to the
sound of the flute, at others temperately drinking water,—at others,
again exercising gymnastics; sometimes indolent and wholly careless;
then again applying, as it were, to philosophy,—often too acting the
politician, saying and doing by skips and jumps whatever comes
first:—and if he would imitate any of the military tribe, thither he is
carried; if the mercantile, then again thither; nor is his life
regulated by any plan or law, but, deeming this particular life
pleasant, and free, and blessed, he follows it throughout. You have most
fully described, said he, the life of the man who places all laws on a
level. I at least am of opinion, said I, that he is multiform, and
filled with different habits; like the state, too, he is handsome and of
varied complexion, a man whose life many men and women would emulate,
because he contains within himself numerous patterns both of forms of
government and moral habits. He does, said he. What then? Have we then
so described and arranged such an one on the principles of democracy, as
that he may be truly called one of democratic character. We will allow
that it has, said he.
-----
Footnote 235:
These Lotophagi are described by Homer, Odyss. ix. 94, &c.
Footnote 236:
Allusion is here made to the Eleusinian mysteries, which after certain
lustrations and sacrifices, were successively communicated to those in
course of initiation,—first, the lesser mysteries (μικρὰ τέλη), and
six months subsequently, the greater (τὰ μεγάλα τέλη).
-----
CHAP. XIV.[237]—It still remains, however, that we discuss, said I, that
most excellent form of government and that most excellent man,—tyranny
and the tyrant. Surely, said he. Come then, my dear fellow;—what is the
manner in which tyranny arises?—for it is almost plain, that it is a
change from democracy. Plain. Does not tyranny arise in the same manner
from democracy, as democracy does from oligarchy? How—as respects the
good then, which oligarchy proposed to itself, and according to which it
was constituted; was it not with a view of becoming extremely rich? Yes.
An insatiable desire then for riches, and a neglect of all besides,
through attention to the acquisition of wealth, destroys it. True, said
he. And with reference to what democracy denominates good, an insatiable
thirst for it destroys it likewise? But what say you, it denominates as
good? Liberty, said I:—for this, you are told, is best found in a state
under democratic rule, and hence any one naturally free would choose to
dwell in this alone. This word liberty, said he, is vastly much talked
about. Well then, observed I, as I was just going to say, does not the
insatiable desire for this, and the neglect of other things, change even
the form of government, and prepare it to need a tyrant? How? said he.
When a state, said I, is under democratic rule, thirsts after liberty,
and happens to have bad cupbearers appointed it, and gets immoderately
drunk with an unmixed draught thereof, it punishes even the governors,
unless they be quite tame-spirited, and allow them excessive liberty, by
accusing them of being corrupt and oligarchical. They do so, said he.
But such as obey the magistrates, said I, it abuses as willing and
good-for-nothing slaves; both publicly and in private they commending
and honouring magistrates who resemble subjects, and subjects who
resemble magistrates: must it not happen in such a state, that we must
necessarily arrive at the acme of liberty? Of course. And must it not
descend, too, my friend, said I, into private families, and at last
reach even the brutes? How, said he, can we assert aught like this? For
instance, said I, when a father gets used to become like his child, and
fears his sons, and the son [in like manner] his father, and has neither
respect nor fear of his parents, in order, forsooth, that he may be
free;—and thus a mere resident is placed on a level with a citizen, and
a resident with a stranger, and so likewise a foreigner. Just so, said
he. Aye, these indeed happen, said I, and other similar little things
also:—and in such cases a teacher fears and flatters his scholars, and
the scholars despise their teachers, and so also their tutors; and on
the whole the youths resemble those more advanced in years, and rival
them both in speech and action: while the old men sit down with the
young, and imitate them in their love of merriment and pleasantry, for
fear of appearing morose and despotic. Quite so, of course, replied he.
But as to this extreme liberty of the multitude, said I, what a height
it attains in a state like this, where purchased slaves, male or female,
are no less free than their purchasers, and how much equality and
liberty wives enjoy with their husbands, and husbands with their
wives,—this we have almost forgotten to mention. Are we not then to say,
according to Æschylus, he observed, whatever now comes into our mouth?
By all means, said I; and accordingly I thus speak:—with reference even
to brutes, such as are under the care of men, how much more free they
are in such a state; he who has no experience thereof will not easily
believe—for according to the proverb, even dogs resemble their
mistresses;[238] and horses and asses are used to run about at large,
surlily driving against whomsoever they meet, unless they get out of
their way; and many other such-like things happen, that indicate an
abundance of liberty. You are just telling me my dream, said he, for
this has often happened to me when going into the country. But do you
observe, said I, when all these things are collected together in a
whole, that they make the soul of the citizens so sensitive, that if
they were any how to be brought into slavery, they would be indignant
and not endure it;—for in the end, you know, they regard laws neither
written nor unwritten, and hence no one will by any means become their
master? I know it well, said he.
-----
Footnote 237:
A large portion of this and the following chapter will be found
rendered into Latin in Cicero de Republ. i. ch. 43, 44.
Footnote 238:
The proverb here alluded to runs thus, according to the
scholiast:—οἱάπερ ἡ δέσποινα, τοία χἁ κύων. The adage from Æschylus,
somewhat above, is of an origin equally unknown.
-----
CHAP. XV.—This then, said I, my friend, I suppose, is that government so
beautiful and youthful, whence tyranny springs. Youthful, indeed, he
replied; but what then? The same malady, said I, that existed in an
oligarchy, destroys this form likewise; rising also to a higher pitch of
power, and enslaving the democracy by its very licentiousness; for, in
fact, the doing of anything to excess usually causes great change in an
opposite direction: and so it is in the seasons, as in vegetable and
animal bodies, and so also not least of all in forms of government.
Probably so, said he. Aye, for excessive liberty seems only to
degenerate into excessive slavery, either in private individuals or
states. It is probable, indeed. Probably then, said I, tyranny is
established out of no other form than democracy;—out of the highest
degree of liberty, methinks, the greatest and fiercest slavery. Yes, it
is reasonable, said he. This, however, methinks, said I, was not what
you asked:—but what is that same disease which arises in an oligarchy
and a democracy, and reduces each to slavery? Your remark is true,
replied he. I meant, said I, that there was a race of idle and profuse
men, the bravest of whom were the leaders, and the more cowardly their
followers, whom indeed we compared to drones; some to those with stings,
others to those without stings. Rightly too, said he. These two now,
said I, when they spring up in a government, disturb it, just like
phlegm and bile in a natural body,—and against these it is the duty of a
wise physician and lawgiver of a state, no less than of a wise
bee-master, to take much fore-caution,—first, that they never gain
admittance;—and if they should enter, that they be as soon as possible
cut off, with their cells as well. Yes, by Zeus, said he; altogether so.
CHAP. XVI.—Let us thus then conceive the matter, said I, that we may
more distinctly see what we want. How? Let us ideally divide a
democratic state into three parts, as it in fact is; for some such
classification is natural to it, owing to its liberty, no less than to
an oligarchy. It is so. Yet it is much more fierce at least in this than
in the former. How? In an oligarchy, from not being held in honour, but
excluded from the magisterial office, it is unexercised and gains no
strength;—but in a democracy it is, with a few exceptions, the presiding
party, the fiercest of them ever talking and agitating, while the rest
bustle about at the law-courts, and cannot endure any one else to speak
differently from itself; and thus all things, with only a few
exceptions, under such a government, are managed by a party. Very much
the case, said he. Some other party, then, is always separated from the
multitude. Which? While the general body are engaged in the pursuit of
gain, such as are naturally the most temperate generally become the
wealthiest. Very probably. And hence is it, methinks, that the greatest
quantity of honey, and what comes with the greatest ease, is pressed out
of these by the drones. Yes,—for how, said he, can any one press it from
those who have but little? Such wealthy people, I think, are called the
pasture of the drones. Nearly so, replied he. And the people will be a
sort of third species,—such as mind their own affairs, without meddling
with others, who have little property, but are yet the most numerous,
and most prevailing in a democracy, whenever it is densely populated. It
is so; but this it will not often consent to do without getting some
share of the honey. This class, of course, always obtains a share, said
I, as far as their leaders are able, by robbing those that have
property, and giving it to the people, in order that they may eat most
themselves. Aye, said he, that is the way in which these become sharers.
These, then, are obliged to defend themselves. Those thus despoiled are
compelled to defend themselves, saying and doing all they can among the
people. Of course. And though they have no inclination to introduce a
change of government, they are charged with forming plots and plans
against the common people, and being oligarchally disposed. What next?
After seeing that the people, not willingly, but through ignorance and
the impositions of these slanderers, attempt to injure them, do they not
then, indeed, even against their wills, become truly oligarchic?—though
not spontaneously, for this very mischief is generated by the drone that
stings them. Quite so. And so they lay informations, make lawsuits, and
have contests one with another. Very much so. And are not the people
always used to place some one in special presidency over themselves, and
to cherish him, and promote him to great power? They are. And this, said
I, is plain, that whenever a tyrant rises, it is from the fact of thus
presiding, and nothing else, that he flourishes. This is very clear.
How, then, begins the change from a president into a tyrant?—is it not
clearly when the president begins to do the same as is told in the
fable, about the temple of the Lycean Zeus, to whom the wolf was
dedicated in Arcadia? What is that? said he. That whoever tastes human
entrails mixed with those of other offerings, must necessarily become a
wolf:—have you not heard the story? I have. Well, then, supposing him to
be thus the president of the people, and having to deal with an
extremely compliant multitude, he should not refrain from shedding even
kindred blood, but by unjust charges, as usual, should bring men into
the law-courts and murder them, as if he set no value on human life,
and, tasting with unholy month and tongue even the blood of relations,
should banish men and slay them, proposing the abolition of debts and
fresh division of lands,—must not such an one of necessity, and by
destiny, be either destroyed by his enemies, or else act the tyrant, and
from a man, become a wolf? Of great necessity, said he. This then, is
he, said I—the same who rises in sedition against those who have
property. Yes. And when he has been banished and returns against the
will of his adversaries, he comes back, of course, an accomplished
tyrant. It is plain. And if they cannot expel him, or put him to death
on a state accusation, then they conspire to cut him off privately by a
violent death. It usually so happens, he observed. And besides this, all
who have advanced to this station invent _this_ much-vaunted tyrannical
demand, asking the people for certain body-guards, that the people’s aid
may be secured them. Of this, said he, they take special care. And
methinks they grant them this through fear of his safety, though secure
as to their own. Quite so. And when a man observes this, who has
property, and who, besides that, is further charged with hating the
people,—he then, my friend, according to the answer of the oracle to
Crœsus,
... To pebble-bedded Hermus flies,
Nor waits the brand of cowardice;[239]...
because he would not, said he, be a second time in fear. But surely,
said I, he at least, methinks, that is caught, is put to death. Of
necessity so. It is plain, then, that this president of our state does
not like a noble person, nobly lie,[240] but, after hurling down many
others, sits in his chair of office, a consummate tyrant of the
state,—and not a president. Of course, he is likely to be so, rejoined
he.
-----
Footnote 239:
The same oracular legend occurs in Herodotus, Clio, ch. 55.
Footnote 240:
Comp. Hom. Il. xvi. 776; Odyss. xxiv. 39.
-----
CHAP. XVII.—Shall we then examine the happiness both of the man and the
state, in which such a mortal as this is engendered? Let us do so by all
means, said he. Does he not, then, said I, in the first days, and for a
brief season, smile and salute every one he meets, and asserting himself
to be no tyrant, and promise many things, both in public and private,
and liberate men from debts, and distribute land both to the public and
those about him, and affect to be mild and liberal towards all? He must,
replied he. But, methinks, when he becomes reconciled to some of his
foreign enemies, and has destroyed others, and there is quiet respecting
these, he first of all is ever exciting wars, that the people may be in
need of a leader. Aye, that is likely. Is it not also then, that, being
rendered poor by contributing to the public treasury, they may be
compelled to be anxious for daily sustenance, and so less readily
conspire against him? Plainly so. And methinks, if he suspects that any
of a free spirit will not allow him to govern,—in order that he may have
some pretext for destroying them, he exposes them to the enemy; for all
these reasons a tyrant must necessarily be always raising war.
Necessarily so. And, while he is doing these things, he will necessarily
become more hateful to the citizens. Of course. And, therefore, some of
those who have been promoted along with him and are in power, use great
plainness of speech, towards him and among themselves, finding fault
with what is done,—such at least, as are of a more manly spirit. Aye,
probably so. The tyrant, therefore, if he means to govern, must cut off
all these, till he leave no one, either friend or foe, worth anything.
It is plain. He must carefully notice them,—who is courageous, who is
magnanimous, who wise, who rich; and in this manner is he happy, that,
willing or unwilling, he is under a necessity of being an enemy to all
like these; and to form plots against them, till he has purged the
state. A fine purging indeed! said he. Yes, said I, the reverse of what
the physicians do with regard to animal bodies; for they take away the
worst and leave the best; but he does the contrary. Because it seems,
said he, if he is to govern, he must necessarily do so.
CHAP. XVIII.—By a blessed necessity, then truly, is he bound, said I;
which compels him either to live with a depraved multitude,—hated by
them too, or not live at all. In such necessity he is, he replied. And
the more he is hated by the citizens whilst he does these things, will
he not so much the more require a greater number of guards, and those
more faithful? It is impossible he should not. Who then are the
faithful, and whence shall he procure them? Many, said he, will come
flying to him of their own accord, if he give them pay. By the dog, said
I, you seem again to be talking of certain drones, both foreign and
multiform. Aye, you think right, replied he. But those of the state
itself,—would he not desire to have them also as guards? How? After he
has taken away the slaves from the citizens, would he not give them
their liberty, and make of them guards about his person? By all means,
said he; for these are the most faithful to him. What a blessed
possession of the tyrants, said I, is this which you mention, if he
employ such friends and faithful men, after having destroyed the former
ones! But at any rate, said he, such he surely does employ. And then his
companions, said I, admire him, and the young citizens flock around him:
but those that are respectable men both hate and fly from him. Of course
they would. It is not without reason, then, said I, that tragedy is
generally thought a wise thing, and that Euripides is thought to excel
in it. Why? Because he uttered this, the result of deep reflection, that
tyrants are wise, by intercourse with the wise;—and he plainly said,
those were wise with whom they hold converse. And he commends tyranny
too, said he, as some divine thing, and says a great deal else about it,
as do the other poets. Those composers then of tragedy, said I, as they
are wise, will forgive both ourselves and others who establish
governments analogous to our own, for not admitting them into our
republic, as being panegyrists of tyranny. Methinks, said he, such of
them, at least, as are well mannered, will forgive us. But they will go
about through other states, methinks, drawing together the crowds, and
put to sale their fine, magnificent, and persuasive words, and so draw
over governments to tyrannies and democracies. Just so. And do they not
further receive rewards and are specially honoured, first by tyrants, as
is natural, and next by a democracy; but the higher they advance in the
forms of government, the more does honour forsake them, disabled as it
were by an asthma from pursuing its progress. Entirely so.
CHAP. XIX.—Thus far, said I, have we digressed: and now let us go back
and talk about the army of the tyrant, beautiful as it is numerous,
multiform, and ever the same,—how it is to be maintained. It is plain,
said he, that whatever sacred things there be in the state, these they
will despoil, and make the sale-proceeds therefrom to be such from time
to time as to cause the commons to pay lighter taxes. But when these
fail, what will they do? It is plain, said he, that he and his
boon-companions, and associates, male and female, will be maintained out
of his paternal inheritance. I understand, said I:—the party that made
the tyrant is to maintain him and his companions. Surely it must be so,
replied he. How, say you? replied I:—if the people were to be enraged,
and say, that it is not just for a son arrived at mature age to be
maintained by the father, but on the contrary, the father by the son,
and that he did not beget and bring him up for this purpose, to be
himself a slave to his slaves after they have grown up, and to maintain
him and his slaves with the rest of the riotous crew,[241]—but rather
that under his auspices he might be liberated from the rich in the the
state, [who are also called the good and worthy]:—and now he orders him
and his companions to leave the state as a father drives from home his
son and his rackety boon-fellows. By Zeus, then, the people, said he,
such as they are, will know what sort of a creature they have begotten,
embraced, and nurtured, and that being themselves the weaker party, they
are still trying to drive out the stronger. How say you, replied I;—will
the tyrant dare to offer violence to his father, and actually strike him
if he will not yield? Yes, said he, for he has stripped him of his
armour. The tyrant, said I, you call a parricide and a hard-hearted
nourisher of old age; and this, as it seems, would be an acknowledged
tyranny; and, as the saying is,—the common people, flying from the smoke
of slavery among freemen, have fallen into the slavish fire of
despotism, and instead of excessive and unreasonable liberty, they
embrace the most rigorous and bitterest captivity of actual slaves.
Aye,—this is very much the case, rejoined he. What then, said I, may it
not be concluded with due consideration, that we have shown in
sufficient detail how tyranny arises out of democracy, and its nature
also, when it does arise? Quite sufficiently, of course, replied he.
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Footnote 241:
Gr. ξυγκλύδων ἄλλων. The word ξύγκλυς means the vilest and most
worthless scum of the people. Comp. Thucyd. vii. 5, where it is used
in the same sense.
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THE END OF THE EIGHTH BOOK.