Republic

”Now,” I said, “those who even touch it do so as youths just emerging from childhood; in the interval before entering upon household management and money-making, they approach the most difficult part of it and then depart—those who are considered the most philosophical. And by the most difficult part, I mean that which concerns discussions. And in the time after that, if, when others are practicing this, they are invited and consent to become listeners, they think it a great thing, believing that they ought to practice it as a mere sideline. And toward old age, with the exception indeed of some few, they are extinguished far more than the Heraclitean sun, inasmuch as they are not rekindled again.” “But how must they do it?” he said. “Entirely the opposite: while they are boys and youths, they should handle boyish education and philosophy, and take very good care of their bodies while they are growing and developing into manhood, acquiring them as a service to philosophy; and as age advances, when the soul begins to reach maturity, they should intensify her exercises; and when their strength fails and they are outside of political and military duties, then at last they should range at large and do nothing else except as a sideline—those, that is, who are to live happily, and having ended their life, to crown the life they have lived with a fitting destiny in the world beyond.” “You really seem to me to speak with eagerness, Socrates,” he said. “I think, however, that most of your listeners will oppose you with still greater eagerness and will not be persuaded in any way at all, starting with Thrasymachus.” “Do not slander Thrasymachus and me,” I said, “who have just now become friends, though we were not enemies before either. For we shall slacken no effort until we either persuade both him and the others, or do something useful for that future life, when, born again, they encounter such discussions.” “You speak of a short time indeed,” he said. “Rather, it is as nothing,” I said, “compared to all of time. Still, that the multitude is not persuaded by what we say is no wonder; for they have never yet seen what is now being described actually happen, but rather only phrases of this sort purposefully matched to one another, instead of falling together by chance as they do now.

​And a man who has been made equal to and like virtue, as far as possible, completely in deed and in word, ruling in another such city—they have never yet seen, neither one nor many. Or do you think they have?” “By no means.” “Nor again, my blessed friend, have they been sufficient listeners to beautiful and free discussions, such as seek the truth intensely in every way for the sake of knowing, while greeting from afar those subtle and eristic arguments that tend nowhere else than toward reputation and strife, both in law courts and in private associations.” “Not those either,” he said. “It was indeed for the sake of these things,” I said, “and foreseeing them, that we then, despite our fears, spoke, compelled by the truth: that neither city nor constitution, nor likewise any man, can ever become perfect until either some necessity from fortune constrains these few philosophers who are not wicked but are now called useless, whether they wish it or not, to take charge of the city, and the city becomes obedient to them, or until a true love of true philosophy falls, by some divine inspiration, either upon the sons of those who are now in positions of power and sovereignty, or upon those rulers themselves. And that either of these things, or both, is impossible, I say there is no reason to assert. For if they were, we would justly be laughed at as merely uttering things like wishful prayers. Is it not so?” “It is so.” “If, then, some necessity to take charge of a city has laid upon those who are supreme in philosophy, either in the infinite past time, or exists even now in some barbarian place far outside our view, or will occur hereafter, we are ready to battle in argument for this: that the constitution described has existed, does exist, and will exist, whenever this Muse becomes mistress of a city. For its coming into being is not impossible, nor are we speaking of impossible things; though that it is difficult is confessed by us as well.” “So it seems to me too,” he said. “But that the multitude, on the other hand, does not think so, will you say?” I said. “Perhaps,” he said. “My blessed friend,” I said, “do not accuse the multitude so severely. They will certainly hold a different opinion if, instead of being contentious with them, you comfort them and, clearing away the slander against the love of learning, show them whom you mean by philosophers, and define, as we did just now, both their nature and their pursuit, so that they will not think you are speaking of those whom they themselves suppose.”