手記__柏拉圖的修善成就SOP

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柏拉圖 (公元前428/427–348/347)。

《理想國》對話集第七卷的開篇，敘述了這個比喻 洞穴比喻。

    哲學教育，是思想解放的必由之路，也是其意義所在。

    哲學的目的，是實現從物質世界，到理念世界的升華。

    物質世界，是感官認知的、可逝的世界－－地下的洞穴。

    理念世界，則是幻象的本體世界－－太陽主宰的地上世界。

    它清晰的闡釋了，柏拉圖的存在論和認識論的思想。

 

其中，蘇格拉底描述兩種人：不知真相的人，與見過真相的人。

一。不知真相的人，將幻象當成事實，甚至於在幻象中尋求軌跡與真理。

    見過真相的人，在群眾中，是個可笑的存在。

    「真相」被貶為幻象，而幻象被褒揚為真相。

二。不知真相的人，以眼看事，以感官判定事物。

    見過真相的人，不以眼看事。眼所見事，不能分別，所以不是真實。應以理智來見事。

    若能努力看見最後的東西，必定是善的理念。

三。由不知真相到見真相，稱為「向上」，這也是將由感官支配，升為由理智支配。

    反之，為「向下」。

 

蘇格拉底，認為應存在一種方法/學問，能令人「向上」見到真相。或者說，有一種靈魂轉向的技巧。

  這種人才，需要具備學問與能耐，包括體操和音樂教育、數學、幾何與天文學。

  在學科中的學習，是為認知真實，而不是增加知識；是為將靈魂，從變化世界轉向真理和實在。                   

  姑且，總合稱這技巧為「辯証法」。

  這些還只是準備功夫。因為，我們還要將他們放回“洞穴”去管理大眾。

  唯有讓這些不為世間事為重的人，才能治理好國家。

 

 

Wiki來源 〈內容〉 蘇格拉底描述了一個位於地下的洞穴住所，洞裡有一條寬闊的道路通向地面。在這個山洞裡居住著被終身囚禁於此的囚犯。他們的腿和脖子被鏈子固定，以致只能朝前看到洞穴的牆壁，而不能轉身回頭顧望。因此，他們永遠看不到背後的洞穴出口，也根本不知道有這麼一個出口。他們也不能看到自己和其他囚犯，他們唯一能看到的是他們所面對的牆壁。在他們身後遠處是燃燒的篝火，囚犯看見火光照亮的牆壁，卻看不見光源。他們只能看到牆上閃動的光影。   囚犯同火炬之間，有一堵不會遮擋光線的矮牆。順著這堵牆壁，有人來回穿梭，搬運著不同的物品，包括一些用石頭和木頭做的人體和其他生物模型。這些物體高過那堵矮牆，但搬運者比牆低。其中的一些搬運者相互交談，另一些則保持沉默。   由於囚犯面對洞穴牆壁，那些來回移動的物體在牆上投射的陰影，被囚犯當作是會移動的影子。當有人說話時，洞壁上的回聲讓囚犯以為是那些影子在說話。他們把這些影像當作生物，把所有發生的事情理解為這些生物的行為。牆上演繹的故事，對他們來說都是真相，絕對真實。他們從這些影子中鑽研出一整套學問，並試圖從它們的出場和動作中找出一系列的規律，並且由此預告將要發生的事情。那些預測最準確的人還會得到嘉獎。   接著，蘇格拉底問葛勞康，如果給一名囚犯鬆綁，讓他站起來，轉身向出口望去，看見這些以往所見的影子的原型，能否想像這時會發生什麼？這個人可能會在強光刺激下痛苦不堪，產生的錯亂幻覺。相比於過去熟悉的光影，他可能會認為屆時所看到的東西都不是現實。因此，他可能希望重新返回自己習慣的位置。因為他相信只有在洞壁上能看見真相，他不會去相信一個善意解救者的說教。   如果使用武力將鬆綁的私法爭鋒從洞穴中拖出，穿過對他而言陡峭難行的通道，當來到地面，他也許會覺得非常彆扭，愈發神志錯亂。因為強烈的陽光會使他睜不開眼，剛開始時，他什麼都看不見。慢慢地，他也許會適應眼前的新鮮事物，其過程也許是首先識別光影，然後是水中的倒影，最終才是人和事物本身。如果抬頭看，他也許會先習慣夜晚的星空，然後才是白天的日光，最後才敢於直接目視太陽，從而感受太陽的獨特之處。只有這時，他才能理解，是太陽造就了光影。有了這些經歷和認識，他不會再願意回到洞穴，他不再關心那裡的光影學問，以及其它私法爭鋒的讚譽。   如果他返回故地，那麼他肯定需要重新的慢慢適應洞穴里的黑暗。於是在一段時間內，他會落後其它私法爭鋒對後續光影估算能力。而洞裡其它的私法爭鋒會認為，他在上面把眼睛弄壞了。他們會嘲笑他，覺得離開洞穴顯然是宗蝕本生意，根本不值得一試。如果有人試圖解放他們，把他們帶到地上，他們會殺了他，如果可能的話。

〈釋義〉 蘇格拉底向葛勞康解釋了這個比喻的含義。   洞穴是人體感官所能及的世界的化身，它代表了人類的處境。走出洞穴並看見太陽的過程，則代表靈魂從可視的世界，提升到「理念的境界」，即只有精神才可領會的世界。   柏拉圖以此表達了他的理念論，即在他的理念世界裡，存在著各種物質現像的原始理念。在這些純粹的精神造物中，善的理念占據著最高的地位，它對應於洞穴比喻中的太陽。在對話中，蘇格拉底確信，為了達成善良的理念，我們必須要接受外力的幫助，只有這樣才能在私人和公眾生活里理智地行事。    但與此同時，蘇格拉底也強調，他在此作出的僅僅是一種猜測或者希望，而不是確切無疑的認識。儘管他按照葛勞康的引導表述了自己的觀點，但這個觀點的正確性只有神能知曉。而這也表明了蘇格拉底自己並未上升到善的理念，他不是在敘述自己的經驗，而只是在談論猜想。   最終，蘇格拉底指出，在神的視角看來，那些返回洞穴的人就如同被遣返回人世苦海。他不能很快的適應這一點，所以他會在這個無法被理解的環境裡顯得笨拙和可笑。如果穴居的囚犯能有更多共情，他們也許就會認識到有兩種截然不同的視力障礙：其一出現在從黑暗走向光明，另一是從光明退回黑暗。這也適用於人的靈魂，當一個人經歷了一段截然不同的體驗，從而迷失自我，無法認識某個事物的時候，當事人不應當受到嘲笑，因為這可能是由於他來自那理念的光明世界，無法立刻習慣洞穴里黑暗氛圍；或者也有可能是他從一個無知的環境闖入一個相對明了的世界，從而感到頭暈目眩。這兩種相互對立的原因，可能導致相同的結果。   隨後，蘇格拉底敘述了哲學教育的意義。   哲學教育被視為是一種「轉向」的技藝，它的目的是把靈魂從黑暗引向光明，亦即從可逝的世界轉向至完整的存在，最終使其看到善的理念。這種精神層面的上升只有通過孜孜不倦的哲學實踐才可實現。蘇格拉底強調說，就如穴居者的眼睛只能隨整個身體一起轉動那樣，他們用來理解事物的靈魂器官也只能隨整個靈魂一起轉向。蘇格拉底詳細描述了職業教育的方法。首先，他歸納了不太重要的課程，比如體育和音樂，然後，他依次列舉了入門哲學所需的算術、幾何、天文以及和聲理論。需要注意的是，在學習過程中需要採用恰當的方法，而不是照葫蘆畫瓢按經驗辦事，我們需要以理論為基礎尋求普遍規律，否則無濟於事。在完成了這些學科的入門之後，我們才能開始辯證法的學習，從而走上哲學真理的探索之路。   當一個哲學家實現目標來到了理念世界，他當然想長久地停留在這個高級的領域。但是，他卻不得不重新回到那個「洞穴」，因為他對同胞的命運負有責任，他的同胞還停留在洞穴里，他們需要他的幫助。因為他尚有公平正義的美德，所以他認為這麼做是對的。

 

 

 

柏拉圖 《理想國》 第七卷 -1   蘇：接下來讓我們把受過教育的人，與沒受過教育的人的本質，比作下述情形。     讓我們想像一個洞穴式的地下室，它有一長長通道通向外面，可讓和洞穴一樣寬的一路亮光照進來。     有一些人，從小就住在這洞穴裡，頭頸和腿腳都綁著，不能走動也不能轉頭，只能向前看著洞穴後壁。     讓我們再想像在他們背後遠處高些的地方，有東西燃燒著發出火光。     在火光和這些被囚禁者之間，在洞外上面有一條路。沿著路邊已筑有一帶矮牆。     矮牆的作用，像傀儡戲演員在自己和觀眾之間設的一道屏障，     他們把木偶舉到屏障上頭去表演。 格：我可以想像到。   蘇：接下來，讓我們想像：     有一些人，拿著各種器物，舉過牆頭，從牆後面走過，     有的還舉著用木料、石料或其它材料制作的假人和假獸。     而這些過路人，你可以料到有的在說話，有的不在說話。 格：你說的是一個奇特的比喻，和一些奇特的囚徒。   蘇：不，他們是一些和我們一樣的人。     你且說說看，你認為這些囚徒，除了火光投射到他們對面洞壁上的陰影而外，     他們還能看到自己的或同伴們的什麼呢？ 格：如果他們一輩子頭頸被限制了不能轉動，     他們又怎樣能看到別的什麼呢？   蘇：那麼，後面路上人，舉著過去的東西，除了它們的陰影而外，     囚徒們能看到它們別的什麼嗎？ 格：當然不能。   蘇：那麼，如果囚徒們能彼此交談，     你不認為，他們會斷定，他們在講自己所看到的陰影時，是在講真物本身嗎？ 格：必定如此。   蘇：又，如果一個過路人發出聲音，引起囚徒對面洞壁的回聲，     你不認為，囚徒們會斷定，這是他們對面洞壁上移動的陰影發出的嗎？ 格：他們一定會這樣斷定的。   蘇：因此無疑，這種人不會想到，上述事物除陰影而外，還有什麼別的實在。 格：無疑的。   蘇：那麼，請設想一下，     如果他們被解除禁錮，矯正迷誤，你認為這時他們會怎樣呢？     如果真的發生如下的事情：     其中有一人被解除了桎梏，被迫突然站了起來，轉頭環視走動，抬頭看望火光，     你認為這時他會怎樣呢？       他在做這些動作時會感覺痛苦的，     並且，由於眼花潦亂，他無法看見那些，他原來只看見其陰影的實物。     如果有人告訴他，說他過去慣常看到的全然是虛假，     如今，他由於被扭向了真實的器物，比較地接近了實在，所見比較真實了，     你認為，他聽了這話會說些什麼呢？       如果再有人把牆頭上過去的每一器物指給他看，並且逼他說出那是些什麼，     你不認為，這時他會不知說什麼是好，     並且認為他過去所看到的陰影，比現在所看到的實物更真實嗎？ 格：更真實得多呀！   蘇：如果他被迫看火光本身，他的眼睛會感到痛苦，     他會轉身走開，仍舊逃向那些，他能夠看清     而且確實認為比人家所指示的實物，還更清楚，更實在的影像的。     不是嗎？ 格：會這樣的。   蘇：再說，如果有人硬拉他走上一條陡峭崎嶇的坡道，     直到把他拉出洞穴，見到了外面的陽光，不讓他中途退回去，     他會覺得這樣被強迫著走很痛苦，並且感到惱火﹔     當他來到陽光下時，他會覺得眼前金星亂蹦金蛇亂串，     以致無法看見任何一個現在被稱為真實的事物的。     你不認為會這樣嗎？ 格：噢，的確不是一下子就能看得見的。   蘇：因此我認為，要他能在洞穴外面的高處，看得見東西，大概需要有一個逐漸習慣的過程。     首先大概看陰影是最容易，     其次要數看人和其他東西在水中的倒影容易，再次是看東西本身﹔     經過這些之後，他大概會覺得在夜裡觀察天像和天空本身，     看月光和星光，比白天看太陽和太陽光容易。 格：當然啰。   蘇：這樣一來，我認為，他大概終於就能直接觀看太陽本身，看見他的真相了，     就可以不必通過水中的倒影或影像，或任何其他媒介中顯示出的影像看它了，     就可以在它本來的地方，就其本身看見其本相了。 格：這是一定的。   蘇：接著，他大概對此已經可以得出結論了：     造成四季交替和年歲周期，主宰可見世界一切事物的，正是這個太陽，     它也就是他們過去通過某種曲折看見的所有那些事物的原因。 格：顯然，他大概會接著得出這樣的結論。   蘇：如果他回想自己當初的穴居、那個時候的智力水平，以及禁錮中的伙伴們，     你不認為，他會慶幸自己的這一變遷，而替伙伴們遺憾嗎？ 格：確實會的。   蘇：如果囚徒們之間，曾有過某種競賽，也有人在其中，贏得過尊榮。     而那些敏於辨別，而且最能記住過往影像的慣常次序，     因而最能預言後面還有什麼影像會跟上來的人，且得到過獎勵的。       你認為這個既已解放了的人，他會再熱衷於這種獎賞嗎？     對那些受到囚徒們尊重，並成了他們領袖的人，他會心懷嫉妒，和他們爭奪那裡的權力地位嗎？     或者，還是會像荷馬所說的那樣，     他寧願活在人世上，做一個窮人的奴隸，受苦受難，     也不願和囚徒們有共同意見，再過他們那種生活呢？ 格：我想，他會寧願忍受任何苦楚，也不願再過囚徒生活的。   蘇：如果他又回到地穴中，坐在他原來的位置上，你認為會怎麼樣呢？     他由於突然地，離開陽光走進地穴，他的眼睛不會因黑暗而變得什麼也看不見嗎？ 格：一定是這樣的。   蘇：這時他的視力，還很模糊，還沒來得及習慣於黑暗     ——再習慣於黑暗，所需的時間，也不會是很短的。     如果有人趁這時就，要他和那些始終禁錮在地穴中的人們較量一下“評價影像”，他不會遭到笑話嗎？     人家不會說：他到上面去走了一趟，回來眼睛就壞了？     不會說：甚至連起一個往上去的念頭都是不值得的嗎？     要是把那個打算釋放他們，並把他們帶到上面去的人，逮住殺掉是可以的話，     他們不會殺掉他嗎？ 格：他們一定會的。   蘇：親愛的格勞孔，     現在我們必須把這個比喻，整個兒地應用到前面講過的事情上去，     把地穴囚室比喻可見世界，把火光比喻太陽的能力。     如果你把從地穴到上面世界，並在上面看見東西的上升過程，     和靈魂上升到可知世界的上升過程聯想起來，你就領會我的這一解釋了。     你急於要聽我的解釋，至於這一解釋本身是不是對的，這是只有神知道的。     但是無論如何，我覺得：     在可知世界中，最後看見的，而且是要花很大的努力，才能最後看見的東西，乃是善的理念。     我們一旦看見了它，就必定能得出下述結論：       它的確就是一切事物中，一切正確者和美者的原因。       就是可見世界中，創造光和光源者，       在可知世界中，它本身就是真理和理性的決定性源泉﹔       任何人，凡能在私人生活或公共生活中，行事合乎理性的，       必定是看見了善的理念的。 格：就我所能了解的而言，我都同意。   蘇：那麼來吧，你也來同意我下述的看法吧，而且在看到下述情形時，別感到奇怪吧：     那些已達到這一高度的人，不願意做那些瑣碎俗事，     他們的心靈，永遠渴望逗留在高處的真實之境。     如果我們的比喻是合適的話，這種情形應該是不奇怪的。 格：是不足為怪的。   蘇：再說，如果有人，從神聖的觀察，再回到人事﹔     他在還看不見東西，還沒有變得足夠地習慣於黑暗環境時，     就被迫在法庭上，或其它什麼地方，       同人家爭訟，關於正義的影子，或產生影子的偶像。       辯論.從未見過正義本身的人，頭腦裡關於正義的觀念。     如果他在這樣做時，顯得樣子很難看，舉止極可笑，     你認為值得奇怪嗎？ 格：一點也不值得奇怪。   蘇：但是，凡有頭腦的人都會記得，     眼睛有性質不同的兩種迷盲，它們是由兩種相應的原因引起的：     一是由亮處到了暗處，另一是由暗處到了亮處。     凡有頭腦的人也都會相信，靈魂也能出現同樣的情況。       他在看到某個靈魂，發生迷盲不能看清事物時，不會不加思索就予以嘲笑的。     他會考察一下，靈魂的視覺，       是因為離開了較光明的生活，被不習慣的黑暗，迷誤了的呢？       還是由於離開了無知的黑暗，進入了比較光明的世界，較大的亮光，使它失去了視覺的呢？     於是他會認為一種經驗與生活道路是幸福的，另一種經驗與生活道路是可憐的﹔     如果他想笑一笑的話，     那麼從下面到上面去的那一種，是不及從上面的亮處到下面來的這一種，可笑的。 格：你說的非常有道理。   蘇：如果這是正確的，那麼關於這些事，我們就必須有如下的看法：     教育實際上，並不像某些人，在自己的職業中，所宣稱的那樣。     他們宣稱：       他們能把靈魂裡原來沒有的知識，灌輸到靈魂裡去，       好像他們能把視力放進瞎子的眼睛裡去似的。 格：他們確曾有過這種說法。   蘇：但是我們現在的論証說明：     知識是每個人靈魂裡都有的一種能力，     而每個人用以學習的器官，就像眼睛。     ——整個身體不改變方向，眼睛是無法離開黑暗轉向光明的。     同樣，作為整體的靈魂，必須轉離變化世界，     直至它的“眼睛”得以正面觀看實在，     觀看所有實在中最明亮者，即我們所說的善者。     是這樣吧？ 格：是的。   蘇：於是這方面，或許有一種靈魂轉向的技巧，     即一種使靈魂盡可能容易，盡可能有效地轉向的技巧。     它不是要在靈魂中創造視力，而是肯定靈魂本身有視力，     但認為它，不能正確地把握方向，或不是在看該看的方向，     因而想方設法努力促使它轉向。 格：很可能有這種技巧。   蘇：因此，靈魂的其它，所謂美德，似乎近於身體的優點，     身體的優點，確實不是身體裡本來就有的，是後天的教育和實踐培養起來的。     但是心靈的優點，似乎確實有比較神聖的性質，是一種永遠不會喪失能力的東西﹔     因所取的方向不同，它可以變得有用而有益，也可以變得無用而有害。       有一種通常被說成是機靈的壞人。     你有沒有注意過，他們的目光是多麼敏銳？     他們的靈魂是小的，但是在那些受到他們注意的事情上，他們的視力是夠尖銳的。     他們的“小”不在於視力貧弱，而在於視力被迫服務於惡，     結果是，他們的視力愈敏銳，惡事就也做得愈多。     【小字的涵義，類似所謂“小人”】 格：這是真的。   蘇：但是，假設這種靈魂的這一部分，從小就已得到錘煉，     已經因此如同釋去了重負，     ——這種重負是這個變化世界裡所本有的，是拖住人們靈魂的視力，       使它只能看見下面事物的那些感官的縱欲，如貪食之類所緊纏在人們身上的。     假設重負已釋，這同一些人的靈魂的同一部分被扭向了真理。     它們看真理，就會有同樣敏銳的視力，像現在看它們面向的事物時那樣。 格：很可能的。   蘇：那麼，   「沒受過教育，不知道真理的人，     和被允許終身完全從事知識研究的人，都是不能勝任治理國家的」。     這個結論，不也是很對的嗎？而且還是上述理論的必然結論嗎？       因為沒受過教育的人，不能把自己的全部公私活動，都集中於一個生活目標﹔     而知識分子，又不能自願地做任何實際的事情，     而是在自己還活著的時候，就想像自己已離開這個世界，進入樂園了。 格：對。   蘇：因此，我們作為這個國家的建立者的職責，     就是要迫使，最好的靈魂，達到我們前面說是最高的知識：看見善，並上升到那個高度﹔     而當他們已到達這個高度，並且看夠了時，     我們不讓他們像現在，容許他們做的那樣。 格：什麼意思？   蘇：逗留在上面，不願再下到囚徒中去，和他們同勞苦共榮譽，不論大小。 格：你這是說，我們要委曲他們，讓他們過較低級的生活了，在他們能過較高級生活的時候？ 蘇：朋友，你又忘了，     我們的立法，不是為城邦任何一個階級的特殊幸福，而是為了造成全國作為一個整體的幸福。     它運用說服或強制，       使全體公民彼此協調和諧，       使他們把各自能向集體提供的利益，讓大家分享。     而它在城邦裡，造就這樣的人，其目的就在於讓他們不致各行其是，     把他們團結成為一個不可分的城邦公民集體。 格：我忘了。你的話很對。   蘇：那麼，格勞孔，你得看到：       我們對我們之中，出現的哲學家，也不會是不公正的﹔       我們強迫他們關心和護衛其它公民的主張也是公正的。     我們將告訴他們：   “哲學家生在別的國家中，有理由拒不參加辛苦的政治工作。     因為他們完全是自發地產生的，不是政府有意識地培養造就的﹔       一切自力更生，不是被培養而產生的人，才不欠任何人的情。     因而，沒有熱切要報答培育之恩的心情，那是正當的。     但是我們已經培養了你們——既為你們自己，也為城邦的其他公民——做蜂房中的蜂王和領袖﹔     你們受到了比別人更好更完全的教育，有更大的能力參加兩種生活。     因此你們每個人在輪值時，必須下去和其他人同住，習慣於觀看模糊影像。     須知，一經習慣，       你就會比他們看得清楚不知多少倍的。       就能辨別各種不同的影子，並且知道影子所反映的東西。     因為你已經看見過美者、正義者，和善者的真實。     因此我們的國家，將被我們和你們清醒地管理著，       而不是像如今的大多數國家那樣被昏昏然地管理著，被那些為影子而互相毆斗，       為權力——被當作最大的善者——而相互爭吵的人統治著。     事實是：       在凡是被定為統治者的人，最不熱心權力的城邦裡，必定有最善最穩定的管理，       凡有與此相反的統治者的城邦裡，其管理必定是最惡的哲學生活和政治生活。” 格：一定的。   蘇：那麼，我們的學生，聽到我們的這種話時，     還會不服從，還會在輪到每個人值班時，拒絕分擔管理國家的辛勞嗎？   （當然另一方面，在大部分的時間裡，他們還是被允許一起住在上面的）   格：拒絕是不可能的。     因為我們是在向正義的人，提出正義的要求。     但是，和當前每個國家中的統治者相反，     他們擔任公職，一定是把它當作一種義不容辭的事情看待的。   蘇：因為，事實上，親愛的朋友，     只有當你能為你們未來的統治者，找到一種比統治國家更善的生活時，       你才可能有一個管理得好的國家。     因為，只有在這種國家裡，才能有真正富有的人來統治。       當然他們不是富有黃金，       而是富有幸福所必需的那種善的和智慧的生活。       如果未來的統治者，是一些個人福利匱乏的窮人，     那麼，當他們投身公務時，他們想到的就是要從中攫取自己的好處。     如果國家由這種人統治，就不會有好的管理。     因為，當統治權成了爭奪對象時，     這種自相殘殺的爭奪，往往同時既毀了國家，也毀了統治者自己。 格：再正確不過。   蘇：除了真正的哲學生活而外，你還能舉出別的什麼能輕視政治權力的？ 格：的確舉不出來。   蘇：但是，我們就是要不愛權力的人掌權，否則就會出現對手之間的爭斗。 格：一定的。   蘇：那麼，     除了那些最知道如何可使國家得到最好管理的人、     那些有其他報酬可得、有比政治生活更好的生活的人而外，     還有什麼別的人，你可以迫使他們負責護衛城邦的呢？ 格：再沒有別的人了。   蘇：於是，你願意讓我們來研究如下的問題嗎？     這種人才，如何造就出來？     如何把他們帶到上面的光明世界，讓他們像故事裡說的人，從冥土升到天上那樣？ 格：當然願意。   蘇：這看來不像游戲中，翻貝殼那樣容易。     這是心靈，從朦朧的黎明，轉到真正的大白天，上升到我們稱之為真正哲學的實在。 格：無疑的。   蘇：那麼，我們難道不應該研究一下，什麼學問，有這種能耐？ 格：當然應該。   蘇：那麼，格勞孔，     這種把靈魂拖著離開變化世界，進入實在世界的學問是什麼呢？     說到這裡我想起了：我們不是曾經說過嗎，這種人年輕的時候必須是戰場上的斗士？ 格：我們是說過這話的。   蘇：因此，我們正在尋找的這門學問，還必須再有一種能耐。 格：什麼能耐？   蘇：對士兵不是無用的。 格：如果可能的話，當然必須有。   蘇：前面，我們曾經讓他們受體操和音樂教育。 格：是的。   蘇：體操關心的是生滅事物﹔因為它影響身體的增強與衰弱。     體操與可變世界聯系。 格：這很明白。   蘇：因此，它不會是我們所尋覓的那門學問。 格：不是的。   蘇：那麼，這門學問是我們前面描述過的音樂教育嗎？ 格：如果你還記得的話，音樂是和體育相對的，     它通過習慣以教育護衛者，以音調培養某種精神和諧（不是知識），     以韻律培養優雅得體，還以故事（或純系傳說的或較為真實的）的語言培養與此相近的品質。     可是這些途徑，沒有任何一個是能通向你所正在尋求的那種善的。     習慣或意見，與真正的知識相對。   蘇：你的記憶，再准確不過了。     因為事實上，其中沒有這類的因素。     但是，啊呀，格勞孔，那麼我們尋求的這種學問是什麼呢？     因為手工技藝，似乎又全都是有點低賤的。 格：確實是的。可是除去音樂、體操和手藝，剩下的還有什麼別的學問呢？   蘇：這樣吧，如果我們除此之外再想不出什麼別的了，     我們就來舉出一個全都要用到的東西吧。 格：那是什麼？   蘇：嗯，例如一個共同的東西——     它是一切技術的、思想的、和科學的知識都要用到的。     它是大家都必須學習的最重要的東西之一。 格：什麼東西？   蘇：一個平常的東西，即分別一、二、三，     總的說，就是算數和計算。一切技術和科學都必須做這些，事實不是這樣嗎？ 格：是這樣。   蘇：戰術不也要做這些嗎？ 格：必定的。   蘇：因此，巴拉米德斯，每次在舞台上出現，就使阿伽門農成了一個極可笑的將軍。     巴拉米德斯宣稱，他發明了數目之後，     組織排列了在特洛亞的大軍中的各支部隊，     點數了船只和其他一切﹔仿佛在這之前，它們都沒有被數過，     而阿伽門農，看來也不知道自己有多少步兵，明顯地他不會算數。     你是否注意過這些？     還有，在那種情況下，你認為阿伽門農是一個什麼樣的將軍呢？ 格：我看他是一個荒謬可笑的將軍，如果那是真的話。   蘇：那麼，我們要不要把能計算和算數，定為一個軍人的必不可少的本領呢？ 格：這是最不可少的本領，如果他要能夠指揮軍隊，甚至只是為了要做好一個普通人。   蘇：那麼，你是不是同我一樣想的是這門學問呢？ 格：哪一門學問？   蘇：它似乎就是我們正在尋找的那些本性，能引領思想的學問之一。     但是沒有一個人在正確地使用它，雖然它確實能引導靈魂到達實在。 格：你說的什麼意思？   蘇：我將努力把我心裡的想法解釋給你聽。     我將告訴你，我是如何在自己心裡區分兩種事物的     ——有我所指的那種牽引力的事物，和沒有那種牽引力的事物的。     如果你願和我一起繼續討論下去，並且告訴我，你同意什麼不同意什麼，     那時我們就會更清楚，我的想法對不對了。 格：請說吧。   蘇：好，你知道感覺中的東西，     有些，是不需要求助於理性思考的，因為感官就能勝任判斷了。     但是還有一些是需要求助於理性的，因為感官對它們不能作出可靠的判斷。 格：你顯然是指的遠處的東西，或畫中的東西。   蘇：你完全沒有領會我的意思。 格：那麼，你說的是什麼意思呢？   蘇：不需要理性思考的東西，我是指的「不同時，引起相反感覺的東西」；       需要理性幫助的東西，我是指的那些能同時引起相反感覺的東西。   （這時感官無法作出明確的判斷），與距離的遠近無關。       我作了如下說明之後，你就更明白了。     例如這裡有三個手指頭：小指、無名指、中指。 格：好。   蘇：我舉手指為例，請你別忘了，我是把它們當作近處可見的東西。     但是關於它們，我還要你注意一點。 格：哪一點？   蘇：每一個指頭，看上去都一樣是一個指頭，     在這方面，無論它是中間的那個，還是兩邊上的某一個，       是白的還是黑的，是粗的還是細的，等等，都無所謂。     因為這裡沒有什麼東西，要迫使平常人的靈魂，再提出什麼問題，或思考究竟什麼是手指的問題了，     因為視覺官能，從未同時向心靈發出信號“說手指也是手指的相反”者。 格：是的。   蘇：這種感覺，當然是不會要求，或引起理性思考的。 格：當然。   蘇：但是手指的大和小，怎麼樣呢？     區別它們是大還是小，視覺能勝任嗎？       哪一個手指在中間？哪一個在邊上？對視覺有什麼分別嗎？     同樣，觸覺能區分粗和細、軟和硬嗎？       在認識這一類性質時，不是事實上所有的感覺都有缺陷嗎？     它們是像下述這樣起作用的：首先例如觸覺，既關系著硬，就必定也關系著軟，     因此它給靈魂傳去的信號是：它覺得同一物體，又是硬的，又是軟的。     不是這樣嗎？ 格：是這樣。   蘇：如果觸覺告訴靈魂，同一物體是硬的也是軟的，     心靈在這種情況下一定要問，觸覺所說的硬，是什麼意思，不是嗎？     或者，如果有關的感覺說，重的東西是輕的，或輕的東西是重的，     它所說的輕或重是什麼意思？ 格：的確，這些信息是心靈所迷惑不解的，是需要加以研究的。   蘇：因此，在這種情況下，靈魂首先召集計算能力和理性，     努力研究傳來信息的東西，是一個還是兩個？                              格：當然。 蘇：如果答案說是兩個，那麼其中的每一個，都是不同的一個嗎？                格：是的。 蘇：因此，如果各是一個，共是兩個。那麼，在理性看來，它們是分開的兩個。     因為，如果它們不是分離的，它就不會把它們想作兩個，而想作一個了。       格：對的。 蘇：我們說過，視覺也看見大和小，但兩者不是分離的，而是合在一起的。是吧？   格：是的。 蘇：為了弄清楚這一點，理性看大和小，不得不採取和感覺相反的方法，     把它們分離開來看，而不是合在一起看。                                   格：真的。 蘇：接著我們不是要首先面臨這樣一個問題嗎：大和小究竟是什麼？               格：一定的。 蘇：這就是我們所以使用“可知事物”和“可見事物”這兩名稱的原因。           格：太對了。 蘇：我剛才說，有的事物要求思考，有的事物不要求思考，     並且把那些同時給感官以相反刺激的事物，定義為「要求思考的事物」；     把那些不同時造成相反刺激的事物，定義為「不要求理性思考的事物」。     我說這些話正是在努力解釋這個意思。   格：現在我明白了，並且跟你的看法一致了。 蘇：那麼，你認為數和“一”屬於這兩種事物中的哪一種呢？                  格：我不知道。 蘇：那你就根據我們已說過的話進行推理吧！     因為，如果“一”本身就是視覺所能完全看清楚的，或能被別的感覺所把握的，     它就不能牽引心靈去把握實在了，像我們在以手指為例時，所解釋的那樣。     但是，如果常常有相反者與之同時被看到，       以致雖然它顯得是一個，但同時相反者也一樣地顯得是一個，       那麼，就會立刻需要一個東西，對它們作出判斷，       靈魂就會因而迷惑不解，而要求研究，       並在自身內引起思考時，詢問這種“一”究竟是什麼？     這樣一來，對“一”的研究，便會把心靈引導到或轉向到對實在的注視上去了。 格：關於“一”的視覺確實最有這種特點，     因為我們能看見同一事物是一，同時又是無限多。   蘇：如果這個原理關於“一”是真的，那麼也就關於所有的數都是真的，不是嗎？  格：當然。 蘇：還有，算術和算學全是關於數的。                                        格：當然。 蘇：這個學科看來能把靈魂引導到真理。                      格：是的。它超過任何學科。 蘇：因此，這個學科看來應包括在我們所尋求的學科之中。     因為軍人必須學會它，以便統帥他的軍隊﹔     哲學家也應學會它，因為他們必須脫離可變世界，把握真理，     否則他們就永遠不會成為真正的計算者。                           格：是的。 蘇：我們的護衛者，既是軍人，又是哲學家。                           格：當然。 蘇：因此，格勞孔，     算學，這個學問看來有資格被用法律規定下來﹔     我們應當勸說那些將來要在城邦裡身居要津的人學習算術，     而且要他們不是馬馬虎虎地學，是深入下去學，直到用自己的純粹理性看到了數的本質，     要他們學習算術，不是為了做買賣，仿佛在准備做商人或小販似的，而是為了用於戰爭，     以及便於將靈魂，從變化世界，轉向真理和實在。                   格：你說得太好了。 蘇：而且，既然提到了學習算術的問題，     我覺得，如果人們學習它，不是為了做買賣，而是為了知識的話，     那麼它是一種精巧的，對達到我們目的有許多用處的工具。           格：為什麼？ 蘇：正如我們剛剛說的，它用力將靈魂向上拉，並迫使靈魂討論純數本身﹔     如果有人要它討論屬於可見物體，或可觸物體的數，它是永遠不會苟同的。     因為你一定知道，精於算術的人，     如果有人企圖在理論上，分割“一”本身，他們一定會譏笑這個人，並且不承認的，     但是，如果你要用除法把“一”分成部分，     他們就要一步不放地使用乘法對付你，不讓“一”有任何時候顯得不是“一”     而是由許多個部分合成的。 格：你的話極對。   蘇：格勞孔，假如有人問他們：“我的好朋友，你們正在論述的是哪一種數呀？     ——既然其中“一”是像你們所主張的那樣，         每個“一”都和所有別的“一”相等，而且沒有一點不同，        “一”內部也不分部分。”     你認為怎麼樣？你認為他們會怎麼答復？ 格：我認為他們會說「他們所說的數，只能用理性去把握，別的任何方法都不行」。   蘇：因此，我的朋友，你看見了！     這門學問，看來確是我們所不可或缺的呢！     既然它明擺著能迫使靈魂，使用純粹理性，通向真理本身，或“理性本身”。 格：它確實很能這樣。   蘇：再說，你有沒有注意到過，     那些天性擅長算術的人，往往也敏於學習其他一切學科﹔     而那些反應遲緩的人，如果受了算術的訓練，他們的反應也總會有所改善，變得快些的，     即使不談別的方面的受益？ 格：是這樣的。   蘇：其次，我認為，     我們不容易發現，有什麼學科學習起來，比算術更難的，像它一樣難的也不多。 格：確實如此。   蘇：因所有這些緣故，我們一定不要疏忽了這門學問，要用它來教育我們的那些天賦最高的公民。 格：我贊成。   蘇：那麼，這門功課就定下來了，算是一門。     下面讓我們再來考慮，接在它後面的一門功課，看它對我們是否有用。 格：哪一門功課？你是說的幾何學嗎？ 蘇：正是它。 格：它在軍事上有用，是很明顯的。     因為，事關安營扎寨，劃分地段，以及作戰和行軍中排列縱隊、橫隊以及其它各種隊形，     指揮官有沒有學過幾何學是大不一樣的。 蘇：不過，為滿足軍事方面的需要，一小部分幾何學，和算術知識，也就夠了。     這裡需要我們考慮的問題是，     幾何學中，佔大部分的較為高深的東西，是否能幫助人們，較為容易地把握善的理念。     我們認為，每一門迫使靈魂轉向真實。這一最神聖部分——它是靈魂一定要努力看的——     所在的學科，都有這種作用。 格：你說得對。   蘇：如果它迫使靈魂看實在，它就有用。     如果它迫使靈魂看產生世界，或生滅世界、可變世界，它就無用。 格：我們也這樣認為。

第七卷 -2   蘇：於是幾何學的作用，正好和它的行家們使用的語言中，表現出來的完全相反。     ——這一點即使那些對幾何學，只有粗淺了解的人，也是不會持異議的。     格：怎麼的？ 蘇：他們的話，再可笑不過，雖然也不得不這麼說。     例如他們談論關於化方、作圖、延長等等時，都仿佛是正在做著什麼事，     他們的全部推理，也都為了實用。     而事實上，這門科學的真正目的，是純粹為了知識。                       格：絕對正確。 蘇：關於下述這一點，我們還能一定有一致意見嗎？                           格：哪一點？ 蘇：幾何學的對象，乃是永恆事物，而不是某種有時產生和滅亡的事物。 格：這是沒有疑問的：幾何學是認識永恆事物的。   蘇：因此，我的好朋友，幾何學，大概能把靈魂引向真理。     並且或許能使哲學家的靈魂轉向上面，而不是轉向下面，     像我們如今錯做的那樣了。                                             格：一定能如此。 蘇：因此，你一定得要求貴理想國的公民重視幾何學。     而且它還有重要的附帶好處呢。                                     格：什麼附帶的好處？ 蘇：它對戰爭有用，這你已經說過了。我們也知道，它對學習一切其它功課還有一定的好處。     學過幾何學的人，和沒有學過幾何學的人，     在學習別的學科時，是大不同的。                                   格：真的，非常不同。 蘇：那麼，讓我們定下來吧：     幾何學作為青年必學的第二門功課。可以嗎？                         格：定下來吧。 蘇：我們把天文學，定為第三門功課，你意下如何？ 格：我當然贊同。對年月四季有較敏銳的理解，     不僅對於農事、航海有用，而且對於行軍作戰也一樣是有用的。 蘇：真有趣，你顯然擔心眾人會以為你正在建議一些無用的學科。     但是，這的確不是件容易事：     相信每個人的靈魂裡，有一個知識的器官，     它能夠在被習慣毀壞了迷盲了之後，重新被建議的這些學習，除去塵垢，恢復明亮。     （維護這個器官比維護一萬只眼睛還重要，因為它是唯一能看得見真理的器官。）     和我們一起相信這一點的那些人，他們會認為你的話是絕頂正確的；     但是那些對此茫無所知的人，他們自然會認為你說的盡是廢話，       因為他們看不到這些學習能帶來任何值得挂齒的益處。     現在請你自己決定和哪一方面討論吧！或者不和任何一方面討論！     你作這些論証，主要只是為了你自己。     雖然無意反對任何別人，也從中得到益處。 格：我寧肯這樣，我論述、我提問、我回答，主要為我自己。   蘇：那麼，你得稍微退回去一點，     因為我們在討論了幾何學之後，接著討論剛才那個科目選得不對。       格：怎麼選得不對？ 蘇：我們討論過了平面之後，還沒有討論純立體本身，便直接去討論有運動的立體事物了。     正確的做法，應從第二維，依次進到第三維。     我認為，第三維乃是立方體和一切具有厚度的事物所具有的。 格：是這樣。但是，蘇格拉底啊，這個學科似乎還沒有得到很好的發展。   蘇：沒有得到發展的原因有二。     第一，沒有一個城邦重視它，再加上它本身難度大，因此人們不願意去研習它。     第二，研習者須有人指導，否則不能成功﹔     而導師首先是難得，     其次，即使找到了，按照當前的時風，這方面的研習者也不見得能虛心接受指導。     但是，如果整個城邦一起來管理提倡這項事業，研習者就會聽從勸告了﹔       持久奮發的研究工作，就能使立體幾何這個學科的許多課題被研究清楚。     雖則現在許多人輕視它，研習者也因不了解它的真正作用而不能正確對待它，因而影響了它的發展，     但它仍然以自己固有的魅力，克服了種種障礙，得到了一定的進步，     甚至即使它被研究清楚了，我們也不以為怪。 格：它的確很有趣味很有魅力。     但是請你把剛才的話說得更清楚些，你剛才說幾何學是研究平面的。    蘇：是的。 格：然後，你接著先是談天文學，後來又退了回來。 蘇：須知，我這是欲速不達呀！     本來在平面幾何之後，應當接著談立體幾何的，     但由於它還欠發達，我在匆忙中忽略了它，而談了天文學﹔     天文學是討論運動中的立體的。                                    格：是的，你是那樣做的。 蘇：那麼，讓我們把天文學，作為第四項學習科目吧，     假定被忽略了未加討論的那門科學在城邦管理下有作用的話。 格：這很好。另外，蘇格拉底，你剛才抨擊我，說我評論天文學動機不高尚，有功利主義，     我現在不這樣做啦，我要用你的原則來贊美它。     我想，大家都知道，這個學科一定是迫使心靈向上看，引導心靈離開這裡的事物去看高處事物的。   蘇：或許大家都知道，只是我除外，因為我不這樣認為。              格：你認為怎樣呢？ 蘇：像引導我們掌握哲學的人，目前那樣地討論天文學，     我認為，天文學只能使靈魂的視力，大大地向下轉。              格：為什麼？ 蘇：我覺得，你對於“學習上面的事物”理解不低級﹔     你或許認為「凡是抬起頭來仰望天花藻井的，都是在用靈魂，而非用眼睛學習」。     或許你是對的，我是無知的。     因為，除了研究實在和不可見者外，我想不出任何別的學習，能使靈魂的視力向上。     如果有人想研究可見事物，     無論是張開嘴巴向上望，還是眨巴著眼睛向下看，我都不會認為他是在真正學習     （因為任何這類的事物都不可能包含有真正的知識），     我也不會認為他的靈魂是在向上看。即使他仰臥著學習（在陸上或海上），     我還是認為他是在向下看。    【借阿裡斯托芬措辭。見喜劇《雲》17a。】 格：我錯了！你批評得對。     你認為學習天文學，不應該像如今這樣學。     那麼你主張怎麼個學法呢？如果為達到我們的目的必須學習它？   蘇：我說，這些天體裝飾著天空。     雖然我們把它們視為可見事物中最美最准確者是對的。     但由於它們是可見者，所以是遠不及真實者，       亦即具有真實的數和一切真實圖形的。       真正的快者和慢者的既相關著又托載著的運動的。     真實者，是僅能被理性和思考所把握，用睛眼是看不見的。     你或許有不同的想法吧？ 格：不，完全沒有。   蘇：因此，我們必須把天空的圖畫，只用作幫助我們學習其實在的說明圖。     就像一個人，碰巧看見了戴達羅斯，或某一別的畫家或畫匠，特別細心地畫出來的設計圖時那樣。     因為任何具有幾何知識的人，看到這種圖畫，雖然都會稱羨畫工的巧妙，     但是，如果見到別人信之為真，想從圖畫上，找到關於相等、成倍，或其它比例之絕對真理，     他們也會認為這是荒謬的。                                        格：怎能不荒謬呢？ 蘇：一個真正的天文學家，在舉目觀察天體運動時，你不認為他會有同樣的感覺嗎？     他會認為天的制造者，已經把天和天裡面的星體，造得不能再好了，     但是，他如果看到有人認為，       有一種恆常的絕對不變的比例關系，存在於日與夜之間、日夜與月或月與年之間，       或還有其它星體的周期與日月年之間以及其它星體周期相互之間，     他也會認為這種想法是荒謬的。     它們全都是物質性的可見的，在其中尋求真實是荒謬的。 格：現在聽你這麼一說，我贊成你的話了。   蘇：因此，如果我們要真正研究天文學，並且正確地使用靈魂中的天賦理智的話，     我們就也應該像研究幾何學那樣，來研究天文學，     提出問題解決問題，而不去管天空中，的那些可見的事物。 格：你這是要將研究天文學的工作，搞得比現在煩難好多倍呀！ 蘇：我想，如果我們要起作為立法者的任何作用的話，     我們就還要再提出其它一些類似的要求。     你有什麼別的合適的學科要建議的嗎？ 格：我一下子說不上來。   蘇：照我看，運動不是只有一種而是有多種。     列舉所有運動種類這或許是哲人的事情，但即使是我們，也能說出其中兩種來。 格：哪兩種？ 蘇：一是剛才說的這個天文學，另一是和它成對的東西。                  格：是什麼呢？ 蘇：我認為我們可以說，正如眼睛是為天文而造的那樣，我們的耳朵是為和諧的聲音而造的﹔     這兩個學科，正如畢達哥拉斯派所主張，我們也贊同的那樣，     格勞孔，它們是兄弟學科。對嗎？                                  格：對。 蘇：既然事關重大，     那麼我們要不要去問一問畢達哥拉斯派學者們，     看他們對此有何高見，以及此外還有什麼別的主張？     不過，這裡我們還是要始終注意我們自己的事情。                    格：什麼事情？ 蘇：讓我們的學生，不要企圖學習任何不符合我們的目標，     而結果總是不能達到那個應為任何事物之目的的東西。     像我們剛才討論天文學時說的那樣。     或者，你還不知道，他們研究和音問題時，在重覆研究天文時的毛病呢！     他們像天文學者一樣，白白花了許多辛苦去聽音，並把可聽音加以比量。 格：真是這樣！他們也真荒謬。     他們談論音程，並仔細認真地聽，好像聽隔壁鄰居的談話一樣。     有的說自己能分辨出兩個音之間的另一個音來，它是一個最小的音程，是計量單位。     而另一些人，則堅持說這些音沒什麼不同。     他們全都寧願用耳朵而不願用心靈。   蘇：你是在講那些名人，他們拷打琴弦，把它們絞在弦柱上，想拷問出真話來﹔     我本可以繼續比喻下去，說關於這些音樂家對琴弦的敲打，他們對琴弦的指控，以及琴弦的無恥抵賴，     但是我還是要丟開這個比喻，因為我對這些人沒有像對畢達哥拉斯派    （我們剛才說要問他們關於和音問題的）那麼重視。     因為他們正是做的天文學家們做的那種事情：       他們尋求可聞音之間數的關系，從不深入到說明問題，       考察什麼樣數的關系是和諧的，什麼樣數的關系是不和諧的，各是為什麼。 格：須知，這不是一般人辦得到的。   蘇：如果目的是為了尋求美者和善者，我說這門學問還是有益的。     如果是為了別的目的，我說它是無益的。                          格：這是很可能的。 蘇：我還認為，     如果研究這些學科，深入到能夠弄清它們之間的相互聯系和親緣關系，並且得出總的認識，     那時我們對這些學科的一番辛勤研究，才有一個結果，才有助於達到我們的既定目標，     否則就是白費辛苦。 格：我也這樣認為。但是，蘇格拉底，這意味著大量的工作呀！   蘇：你是指的序言，對不對？     你不知道嗎，所有這些學習，不過是我們要學習的法律正文前面的一個序言？     我想你是不會把精通上述學科的人，當作就是辯証法家的。     像法律正文之前，有序文一樣，學習辯証法，要先學數學、天文等科學。 格：的確不會的。除了極少數，我碰到過的例外。   蘇：一個人如果不能對自己的觀點，作出邏輯的論証，     那麼他能獲得我們主張他們應當具備的任何知識嗎？ 格：是不能的。   蘇：到此，格勞孔，這不已經是辯証法訂立的法律正文了嗎？     它雖然屬於可知世界，但是我們可以在前面說過的那個視覺能力變化過程中看到它的摹本：     從看見陰影到企圖看見真的動物，然後能看得見星星，最後看得見太陽本身。     與此類似，當一個人企圖靠辯証法，通過推理而不管感官的知覺，以求達到每一事物的本質，     並且一直堅持到靠思想本身理解到善者的本質時，他就達到了可理知事物的頂峰了。     正如我們比喻中的那個人，達到可見世界的頂峰一樣。                格：的確是的。 蘇：那麼怎麼樣？你不想把這個思想的過程叫做辯証的過程嗎？            格：當然想。 蘇：一個人從桎梏中解放出來，     從陰影轉向投射陰影的影像，再轉向火光，然後從洞穴裡，上升到陽光下，     這時他還不能直接看動物、植物和陽光，只能看見水中的神創幻影，和真實事物的陰影     （不是那個不及太陽真實的火光所投射的影像的陰影）。     我們考察的這些科學技術的全部，這一學習研究過程，     能夠引導靈魂的最善部分，上升到看見實在的最善部分，     正如在我們的那個比喻中，人身上最明亮的東西，被轉向而看見可見物質世界中，最明亮的東西那樣。     “影像”，指比喻中物體。前者指眼睛，後者指太陽。 格：我同意這個說法。     雖然我覺得一方面很難完全贊同，但另一方面又很難不贊同。     不管怎麼說——既然我們不是只許聽這一次，而是以後還要多次重復聽講的——     讓我們假定這些事，就像剛才說的那樣吧，     讓我們往下，進至討論法律正文，並且像討論序文一樣地來討論它吧。     那麼請告訴我們，辯証法有何種能力？它分哪幾種？各用什麼方法？     因為這些問題的答案，看來或可把我們帶到休息地，達到旅程的終點。   蘇：親愛的格勞孔，你不能跟著我再一道前進了，     這倒不是因為我這方面不願意如此，     而是因為現在我要你看的，將不再是我們用作比喻的影像了，而是事物的實在本身了。     當然是盡它讓我看見的——雖然我們不能斷定，我們所看見的這東西，正好就是實在。     但是可以肯定，我們必須要看見的實在，就是某一這類的東西。     你說是嗎？                                                        格：當然是的。 蘇：我們是否還可以宣布，只有辯証法，有能力讓人看到實在。     也只讓學習過我們所列舉的那些學科的人看到它，     別的途徑是沒有的，對嗎？                       格：這個論斷，我們也可以肯定是對的。 蘇：這一點無論如何是不會有人和我們唱反調，     認為還有任何別的研究途徑，可以做到系統地，在一切情況下確定每一事物的真實本質的。     而一切其它的技術科學，則完全或是為了人的意見和欲望，或是為了事物的產生和制造，       或是為了在這些事物產生出來，或制造出來之後照料它們﹔     至於我們提到過的其餘科學，即幾何學和與之相關的各學科，     雖然對實在有某種認識，但是我們可以看到，它們也只是夢似地看見實在，     只要它們還在原封不動地使用它們所用的假設，而不能給予任何說明，     它們就還不能清醒地看見實在。     因為，如果前提是不知道的東西，結論和達到結論的中間步驟，就也是由不知道的東西組成的，     這種情況下，結果的一致，又怎能變成真正的知識呢？ 格：是無論如何也不能的。   蘇：因此，辯証法是唯一的這種研究方法，     能夠不用假設，而一直上升到第一原理本身，以便在那裡找到可靠根據的。     當靈魂的眼睛，真的陷入了無知的泥沼時，     辯証法，能輕輕地把它拉出來，引導它向上。     同時用我們所列舉的那些學習科目，幫助完成這個轉變過程。     這些學科，我們常常根據習慣稱它們為一門一門的知識，     實際上，我們需要一個另外的字稱，一個表明它比意見明確些，又比知識模糊些的名稱。     我們在前面用過“理智”這個名稱。  （智慧）     但是我覺得，在有如此重大的課題，放在我們面前需要討論的情況下，     我們不必為了一個字而去辯論了。                                        格：是的。 蘇：那麼讓我們滿足於前面用過的那些個名稱吧，     把第一部分叫做知識，第二部分叫做理智，第三部分叫做信念，第四部分叫做想像﹔     又把第三部分和第四部分合稱意見，把第一部分和第二部分合稱理性﹔       意見是關於產生世界的，       理性是關於實在的﹔     理性和意見的關系，就像實在和產生世界的關系，     知識和信念的關系、理智和想像的關系，也像理性和意見的關系。     至於和這些靈魂狀態對應的事物之間的關系，     以及它們再各細分為兩部分，能意見的部分和能理知的部分。     這些問題，格勞孔，我們還是別去碰它吧，免得我們被卷進一場更長時間的辯論中去。     見前面511D—E。 格：行，在我能跟著你的范圍內，我贊同你關於其餘部分的看法。   蘇：一個能正確論証每一事物的真實存在的人，你不贊成把他叫做辯証法家嗎？     一個不能這樣做，即不能對自己和別人作出正確論証的人，     你不贊成說，他沒有理性，不知道事物的實在嗎？                    格：我怎能不贊成呢？ 蘇：這個說法關於善者，不也同樣合適嗎？     一個人如果       不能用論証，把善者的理念，和其它一切事物區分開來，並給它作出定義，       不能像在戰場上，經受攻擊那樣，經受得住各種考驗，       並竭力用實在，而不是用意見，考察一切事物，       在正確的方向上，將論証進行到底而不出現失誤，     他如果缺乏這種能力，你就會說：他並不真的知道善本身和任何特殊的善者﹔     但是如果他觸及它的大概輪廓，他便對它只有意見，而沒有知識，     他這一輩子，便都是在打瞌睡做迷夢，在還沒醒過來之前，便已進入陰曹地府，長眠地下了。     是這樣嗎？                                             格：真的，我完全贊成你的說法。 蘇：但是，事實上，目前你還只是在口頭上教育的那些孩子，     我想你一定不會容許他們來統治國家，決定國家大事的。     顯然他們像幾何學上的無理線，那樣的無理性。             格：當然不會容許的。 蘇：因此你得用法律規定他們，     要特別注意訓練培養自己，能用最科學的方法提問，和回答問題的能力。 格：我要照你的意思制訂這樣的法令。   蘇：那麼，你是不是同意，     辯証法像牆頭石一樣，被放在我們教育體制的最上頭，     再不能有任何別的學習科目放在它的上面，是正確的了，     而我們的學習課程到辯証法，也就完成了？                 格：我同意。 蘇：那麼，現在剩下來，還要你去做的事情，     就是選定誰去研習這些功課，如何選法。                   格：顯然是的。 蘇：那麼，你記不記得，我們前面在選擇統治者時選的那種人？   格：當然記得。 蘇：那麼，就大多數方面而言，你得認為，     我們必須挑選那些具有同樣天賦品質的人。     必須挑選出最堅定、最勇敢、在可能范圍內也最有風度的人。     此外，我們還得要求他們，不僅性格高貴嚴肅，而且還要具有適合這類教育的天賦。 格：你想指出哪些天賦呢？   蘇：我的朋友啊，     他們首先必須熱愛學習，還要學起來，不感到困難。     因為靈魂對學習中的艱苦，比對體力活動中的艱苦，是更為害怕得多的，     因為這種勞苦更接近靈魂，是靈魂所專受的，而不是和肉體共受的。    格：對。 蘇：我們還要他們強於記憶。百折不撓、喜愛一切意義上的勞苦。     否則你怎能想像，他們有人肯忍受肉體上的一切勞苦，並完成如此巨大的學習和訓練課程呢？ 格：除了天賦極好的人外，是沒有人能這樣的。   蘇：我們當前的錯誤，以及由此而產生的對哲學的輕蔑，如我前面說過的，     在於它的伙伴和追求者，不配做它的伙伴和追求者。     他們不應當是螟蛉假子，而應當是真子。                            格：我不明白。 蘇：首先，有志於哲學者，對待勞苦，     一定不能有瘸子走路式的態度：半愛勞動、半怕勞動。     假如一個人喜愛打獵、角斗和各種體力方面的勞動，       卻不愛學習、聽講、研究和各種諸如此類智力上的勞動，就是如此。     換個角度，只喜愛智力方面勞動的，也是像瘸子走路。 格：你的話再正確不過了。   蘇：關於真實，我們不也要把下述這種人的靈魂，同樣看作是殘廢的嗎？     一個人嫌惡有意的虛假。       不能容忍它存在於自己身上；       看到別人有這種毛病，更是非常生氣；       但卻心甘情願地接受「無意的虛假」。     當他暴露出自己缺乏知識時，卻並不著急。     若無其事地對待自己的無知，像一只豬在泥水中打滾一樣。 格：完全應該把這種人的靈魂看作殘廢。   蘇：關於節制、勇敢、寬宏大量以及所有各種美德，     我們也必須一樣警惕地注意假的和真的。     因為，如果個人或國家缺乏這種辨別真假所必需的知識，     他就會無意中，錯用一個跛子或假好人，做他個人的朋友，或國家的統治者。 格：是會這樣的。   蘇：我們必須留心避免一切這類的錯誤。     如果我們挑出了身心健全的人，並且讓他們受到長期的教導和訓練，正義本身就不會怪罪我們了，     我們就是維護了我們的城邦和社會制度。     如果我們挑選了另一種人，結果就會完全相反，我們就將使哲學，遭到更大的嘲弄。 格：那的確將是一件可恥的事情。   蘇：事情雖然的確如此，但是我認為，這刻兒，我正在使自己顯得有點可笑！    格：為什麼？ 蘇：我忘了我們不過是在說著笑話玩兒，我竟這麼態度嚴肅認真起來了。     須知，我在說話的過程中，一眼瞥見了哲學。       當我看到它受到不應有的毀謗時，產生了反感，     在談到那些應對此負責的人時，我說話太嚴肅了，好像在發怒了。 格：但是說真話，我聽起來，並不覺得過分嚴肅。 蘇：但是，作為說話的人，我自己覺得太嚴肅了。     然而我們一定不能忘了，我們從前總是選舉老年人，但是這裡不行。     梭倫曾說：     「人老，來。能學很多東西。我們一定不要相信他這話。       人老了，不能多奔跑，更不能多學習。       一切繁重勞累的事情，只有年輕時能勝任」。 格：這是一定的道理。   蘇：那麼，算學、幾何以及     一切凡是在學習辯証法之前，必須先行學習的預備性科目，     必須趁他們還年輕時教給他們，當然不是採用強迫方式。         格：為什麼？ 蘇：因為一個自由人，是不應該被迫地進行任何學習的。     因為，身體上的被迫勞累，對身體無害，     但被迫進行的學習，卻是不能在心靈上生根的。                 格：真的。 蘇：因此，我的朋友，     請不要強迫孩子們學習，要用做游戲的方法。     你可以在游戲中，更好地了解到他們每個人的天性。             格：你的話很有道理。 蘇：你有沒有忘了，我們也曾說過，     我們必須讓我們的孩子，騎著馬到戰場上去看看打仗，     在安全的地方則讓他們靠近前沿，像小野獸那樣嘗嘗血腥味？     格：我還記得。 蘇：在所有這些勞苦的身體鍛練，學習和戰爭恐怖中，     總是表現得最能干的那些孩子，應當被挑選出來。               格：在幾歲上？ 蘇：在必要的體育訓練一過去的時候。     因為這段時間裡——或兩年或三年——他們是不能干別的事的。     極度的疲勞，和長時間的睡眠，是學習的敵人，     加之，考察他們每個人在體操方面的表現，     也是對他們整個考察的一個很重要的組成部分。                 格：當然。 蘇：這段時間過去之後，從二十歲起，被挑選出來的那些青年，將得到比別人更多的榮譽，     他們將被要求，把以前小時候分散學習的各種課程內容，加以綜合，     研究它們相互間的聯系，以及它們和事物本質的關系。 格：這是能獲得永久知識的唯一途徑。 蘇：這也是有無辯証法天賦的，最主要的試金石。     因為能在聯系中看事物的，就是一個辯証法者，     不然就不是一個辯証法者。                                   格：我同意。 蘇：你應當把這些天賦上的條件牢記在心，     在第一次挑選出來的那些，在學習、戰爭以及履行其它義務中，表現得堅定不移的青年裡，     再作第二次挑選，選出其中，最富這些天賦條件的青年，     在他們年滿三十的時候，給他們以更高的榮譽，     並且用辯証法考試他們，看他們哪些人，能不用眼睛和其它的感官，跟隨著真理達到純實在本身。   蘇：只是在這裡，我的朋友啊，你必須多加小心才好。 格：為什麼這裡必須特別小心呢？ 蘇：你有沒有注意到，當前在搞辯証法上所引起的惡果？             格：什麼惡果？ 蘇：搞辯証法的人，違反法律。                                   格：確有其事。 蘇：你認為他們這種心靈狀態，有什麼可驚奇的地方，     並且認為這是不可原諒的嗎？                                 格：什麼意思？ 蘇：可以打個比方。     譬如有個養子，養於一富裕的人口眾多的大家庭之中，周圍有許多逢迎阿諛的人侍候著他。     到成年時，他知道了，原來自稱是他父母的人，並不是他的父母，但他又找不到自己的真父母。     你想想看，他在知道這個真情之前和之後，對那些逢迎之徒，和假父母將有什麼想法呢？     也許，你是不是想聽聽我的推測？                             格：我願意。   蘇：我的推測如下：     在他還不知道真情的時候，比之對周圍的諛媚之徒，     他會更多地尊重他所謂的父親、母親以及其他的親屬，更多地關心他們的需要。     更少想對他們做什麼非法的事、說什麼非法的話，     或在重大的事情上不聽從他們的勸告。                         格：很可能是這樣的。 蘇：但是，在他發現了真情之後，     我推測，他對父母親人的尊重和忠心，將變得日益減退，轉而關心起那些諛媚之徒來。     他將比以前更注意後者，並從此開始按他們的規矩生活，和他們公開結合。     同時對養父和收養他的其他親人，變得完全不關心了。     除非他的天性特別正，才不會這樣。   格：你說的這一切，是很可能發生的。     但是這個比喻如何和從事哲學辯証的人聯系起來呢？   蘇：茲說明如下。什麼是正義的？什麼是光榮的？     我們從小，就已有了對這些問題的觀念。     我們就在這種觀念中長大，好像在父母哺育下長大成人一樣。     我們服從它們，尊重它們。                                      格：是的。 蘇：但是還另有與此相反的習慣風尚。     它們由於能給人快樂，而對人的靈魂，具有盅惑力和吸引力，     雖然它不能征服任何正派的人；正派人仍然尊重和服從父親的教誨。  格：確有這種習慣和風尚。 蘇：那麼，什麼是光榮？     當一個人遇到了這樣的問題，並且根據從立法者那裡學得的道理回答時，他在辯論中遭到反駁﹔     當他多次被駁倒，並且在許多地方被駁倒時，他的信念就會動搖。     他會變得相信「光榮的東西，不比可恥的東西更光榮」﹔     而當他在關於正義、善以及一切他們主要尊重的東西方面，都有了同樣的感受時，     你試想，此後在“尊重和服從”這些傳統方面，他會怎樣行事呢？ 格：他一定不會還跟以前一樣地尊重和服從了。 蘇：當他已經不再覺得：以前的這些信條必須受到尊重和恪守，     但真理又尚未找到時，他會轉而採取哪一種生活呢？     他不去採取那種能盅惑他的生活嗎？                              格：會的。 蘇：於是我們將看到，他由一個守法者，變成一個違法者。              格：必然的。 蘇：然而所有這一切，乃是這樣地從事哲學辯論的一個自然的結果。     並且，如我剛才說過的，又是很可原諒的。是嗎？                  格：是的。並且也是很可憐的。 蘇：為了你可以不必可憐你的那些三十歲的學生，     在你如何引導他們進行這種辯論的問題上，必須非常謹慎。是嗎？    格：是的。 蘇：不讓他們年紀輕輕就去嘗試辯論，這不是一個很重要的預防辦法嗎？     我認為你一定已經注意到了「       年輕人一開始嘗試辯論，由於覺得好玩，便喜歡到處跟人辯論。       並且模仿別人的互駁，自己也來反駁別人。     他們就像小狗喜歡拖咬所有走近的人一樣，喜歡用言辭咬人」。       格：完全是這樣。 蘇：當他們許多次地駁倒別人，自己又許多次地被別人駁倒時，     便很快陷入了對從前以為正確的一切的強烈懷疑。     結果是，損壞了自己和整個哲學事業，在世人心目中的信譽。         格：再正確不過了。 蘇：但是一個年齡大些的人，就不會這樣瘋狂。     他寧可效法那些，為尋找真理而進行辯駁的人，而不會效法那些，只是為了磨嘴皮子玩兒的人。     因此，他本人會是一個有分寸的人。     他能使他所研究的哲學信譽提高，而不是信譽降低。                 格：對。 蘇：上面所有這些話，我們說出來正是為了預防這一點。     我們要求被允許參與這種討論的人，必須是具有適度和堅定品格的人，     而不能是隨便什麼不合格的人，像現在那樣。     是這樣嗎？                                                     格：完全是的。 蘇：那麼，像在相應的體操訓練中一樣，     堅持不斷地，專心致志地，學習辯証法，     用兩倍於體操訓練的時間夠不夠呢？                          格：你是說用六年或者四年？ 蘇：嗯，定為五年吧。因為，在這之後，     你還得派他再下到地洞裡去，強迫他們負責指揮戰爭，或其它適合青年人干的公務。     讓他們可以在實際經驗方面，不低於別人，     還必須讓他們在這些公務中接受考驗，看他們是否能在各種誘惑面前堅定不移。     或者，看他們是否會畏縮、出軌。                            格：這個階段你給多長時間？ 蘇：十五年。到五十歲上，那些在實際工作和知識學習的一切方面，     都以優異成績通過了考試的人，必須接受最後的考驗。     我們將要求他們把靈魂的目光轉向上方，注視著照亮一切事物的光源。       在這樣地看見了善本身的時候，       他們得用它作為原型，管理好國家、公民個人和他們自己。     在剩下的歲月裡，他們得用大部分時間來研究哲學﹔     但是在輪到值班時，他們每個人，都要不辭辛苦管理繁冗的政治事務，       為了城邦而走上統治者的崗位——不是為了光榮，而是考慮到必要。     因此，當他們已經培養出了像他們那樣的繼承人，可以取代他們充任衛國者的時候，       他們就可以辭去職務，進入樂土，在那裡定居下來了。     國家將為他們建立紀念碑，像祭神那樣地祭祀他們，如果庇西亞的神示能同意的話。     否則也得以神一般的偉人規格祭祀他們。 格：啊，蘇格拉底，     你已經像一個雕刻師那樣，最完美地結束了你塑造統治者形像的工作了。  （堯舜）   蘇：格勞孔啊！這裡談的統治者，也包括婦女在內。     你必須認為，我所說的關於男人的那些話，一樣適用於出身於他們中間的婦女們，     只要她們具備必要的天賦。 格：對，如果她們要和男人一樣，參與一切活動，像我們所描述的那樣。   蘇：我說，我們關於國家和政治制度的那些意見，並非全屬空想﹔     它的實現，雖然困難，但還是可能的，只要路子走的對，像我們前面說過的那樣做。     只要讓真正的哲學家，或多人或一人，掌握這個國家的政權。     他們把今人認為的一切光榮的事情，都看作是下賤的無價值的。     他們最重視正義，和由正義而得到的光榮，把正義看作最重要的，和最必要的事情。       通過促進和推崇正義，使自己的城邦走上軌道。     你看我說得對嗎？                                                 格：怎麼做呢？ 蘇：他們將要求，把所有十歲以上的有公民身份的孩子，送到鄉下去，     他們把這些孩子接受過來，改變他們從父母那裡受到的生活方式影響，     用自己制定的習慣和法律，培養他們成人（即我們前面所描述的）。     （思想養成集中營？）     這是我們所述及的國家和制度，藉以建立起來，得到繁榮昌盛，     並給人民帶來最大福利的最便捷的途徑。 格：這確是非常便捷之徑。我認為，蘇格拉底啊！     如果這種國家，要得到實現的話，你已經很好地說明了它的實現方法了。   蘇：至此，我們不是已經充分地談過了我們的這種國家，以及與之相應的那種人了嗎？     須知，我們會提出需要什麼樣的人，這無疑是一清二楚的。 格：我想我已經回答完了你的問題了。     這也是很清楚的。

 

原文

Book 7 SOCRATES’ NARRATION CONTINUES: SOCRATES: Next, then, compare the effect of education and that of the lack of it on our nature to an experience like this. Imagine human beings living in an underground, cavelike dwelling, with an entrance a long way up that is open to the light and as wide as the cave itself. They have been there since childhood, with their necks and legs fettered, so that they are fixed in the same place, able to see only in front of them, because their fetter prevents them from turning their heads around. Light is provided by a fire burning far above and behind them. Between the prisoners and the fire, there is an elevated road stretching. Imagine that along this road a low wall has been built—like the screen in front of people that is provided by puppeteers, and above which they show their puppets. GLAUCON: I am imagining it. SOCRATES: Also imagine, then, that there are people alongside the wall carrying multifarious artifacts that project above it—statues of people and other animals, made of stone, wood, and every material. And as you would expect, some of the carriers are talking and some are silent. GLAUCON: It is a strange image you are describing, and strange prisoners. SOCRATES: They are like us. I mean, in the first place, do you think these prisoners have ever seen anything of themselves and one another besides the shadows that the fire casts on the wall of the cave in front of them? GLAUCON: How could they, if they have to keep their heads motionless throughout life? SOCRATES: What about the things carried along the wall? Isn’t the same true where they are concerned? GLAUCON: Of course. SOCRATES: And if they could engage in discussion with one another, don’t you think they would assume that the words they used applied to the things they see passing in front of them? GLAUCON: They would have to. SOCRATES: What if their prison also had an echo from the wall facing them? When one of the carriers passing along the wall spoke, do you think they would believe that anything other than the shadow passing in front of them was speaking? GLAUCON: I do not, by Zeus. SOCRATES: All in all, then, what the prisoners would take for true reality is nothing other than the shadows of those artifacts. GLAUCON: That’s entirely inevitable. SOCRATES: Consider, then, what being released from their bonds and cured of their foolishness would naturally be like, if something like this should happen to them. When one was freed and suddenly compelled to stand up, turn his neck around, walk, and look up toward the light, he would be pained by doing all these things and be unable to see the things whose shadows he had seen before, because of the flashing lights. What do you think he would say if we told him that what he had seen before was silly nonsense, but that now—because he is a bit closer to what is, and is turned toward things that are more—he sees more correctly? And in particular, if we pointed to each of the things passing by and compelled him to answer what each of them is, don’t you think he would be puzzled and believe that the things he saw earlier were more truly real than the ones he was being shown? GLAUCON: Much more so. SOCRATES: And if he were compelled to look at the light itself, wouldn’t his eyes be pained and wouldn’t he turn around and flee toward the things he is able to see, and believe that they are really clearer than the ones he is being shown? GLAUCON: He would. SOCRATES: And if someone dragged him by force away from there, along the rough, steep, upward path, and did not let him go until he had dragged him into the light of the sun, wouldn’t he be pained and angry at being treated that way? And when he came into the light, wouldn’t he have his eyes filled with sunlight and be unable to see a single one of the things now said to be truly real? GLAUCON: No, he would not be able to—at least not right away. SOCRATES: He would need time to get adjusted, I suppose, if he is going to see the things in the world above. At first, he would see shadows most easily, then images of men and other things in water, then the things themselves. From these, it would be easier for him to go on to look at the things in the sky and the sky itself at night, gazing at the light of the stars and the moon, than during the day, gazing at the sun and the light of the sun. GLAUCON: Of course. SOCRATES: Finally, I suppose, he would be able to see the sun—not reflections of it in water or some alien place, but the sun just by itself in its own place—and be able to look at it and see what it is like. GLAUCON: He would have to. SOCRATES: After that, he would already be able to conclude about it that it provides the seasons and the years, governs everything in the visible world, and is in some way the cause of all the things that he and his fellows used to see. GLAUCON: That would clearly be his next step. SOCRATES: What about when he reminds himself of his first dwelling place, what passed for wisdom there, and his fellow prisoners? Don’t you think he would count himself happy for the change and pity the others? GLAUCON: Certainly. SOCRATES: And if there had been honors, praises, or prizes among them for the one who was sharpest at identifying the shadows as they passed by; and was best able to remember which usually came earlier, which later, and which simultaneously; and who was thus best able to prophesize the future, do you think that our man would desire these rewards or envy those among the prisoners who were honored and held power? Or do you think he would feel with Homer that he would much prefer to “work the earth as a serf for another man, a man without possessions of his own,”1 and go through any sufferings, rather than share their beliefs and live as they do? GLAUCON: Yes, I think he would rather suffer anything than live like that. SOCRATES: Consider this too, then. If this man went back down into the cave and sat down in his same seat, wouldn’t his eyes be filled with darkness, coming suddenly out of the sun like that? GLAUCON: Certainly. SOCRATES: Now, if he had to compete once again with the perpetual prisoners in recognizing the shadows, while his sight was still dim and before his eyes had recovered, and if the time required for readjustment was not short, wouldn’t he provoke ridicule? Wouldn’t it be said of him that he had returned from his upward journey with his eyes ruined, and that it is not worthwhile even to try to travel upward? And as for anyone who tried to free the prisoners and lead them upward, if they could somehow get their hands on him, wouldn’t they kill him? GLAUCON: They certainly would. SOCRATES: This image, my dear Glaucon, must be fitted together as a whole with what we said before. The realm revealed through sight should be likened to the prison dwelling, and the light of the fire inside it to the sun’s power. And if you think of the upward journey and the seeing of things above as the upward journey of the soul to the intelligible realm, you won’t mistake my intention—since it is what you wanted to hear about. Only the god knows whether it is true. But this is how these phenomena seem to me: in the knowable realm, the last thing to be seen is the form of the good, and it is seen only with toil and trouble. Once one has seen it, however, one must infer that it is the cause of all that is correct and beautiful in anything, that in the visible realm it produces both light and its source, and that in the intelligible realm it controls and provides truth and understanding; and that anyone who is to act sensibly in private or public must see it. GLAUCON: I agree, so far as I am able. SOCRATES: Come on, then, and join me in this further thought: you should not be surprised that the ones who get to this point are not willing to occupy themselves with human affairs, but that, on the contrary, their souls are always eager to spend their time above. I mean, that is surely what we would expect, if indeed the image I described before is also accurate here. GLAUCON: It is what we would expect. SOCRATES: What about when someone, coming from looking at divine things, looks to the evils of human life? Do you think it is surprising that he behaves awkwardly and appears completely ridiculous, if—while his sight is still dim and he has not yet become accustomed to the darkness around him—he is compelled, either in the courts or elsewhere, to compete about the shadows of justice, or about the statues of which they are the shadows; and to dispute the way these things are understood by people who have never seen justice itself? GLAUCON: It is not surprising at all. SOCRATES: On the contrary, anyone with any sense, at any rate, would remember that eyes may be confused in two ways and from two causes: when they change from the light into the darkness, or from the darkness into the light. If he kept in mind that the same applies to the soul, then when he saw a soul disturbed and unable to see something, he would not laugh absurdly. Instead, he would see whether it had come from a brighter life and was dimmed through not having yet become accustomed to the dark, or from greater ignorance into greater light and was dazzled by the increased brilliance. Then he would consider the first soul happy in its experience and life, and pity the latter. But even if he wanted to ridicule it, at least his ridiculing it would make him less ridiculous than ridiculing a soul that had come from the light above. GLAUCON: That’s an entirely reasonable claim. SOCRATES: Then here is how we must think about these matters, if that is true: education is not what some people boastfully declare it to be. They presumably say they can put knowledge into souls that lack it, as if they could put sight into blind eyes. GLAUCON: Yes, they do say that. SOCRATES: But here is what our present account shows about this power to learn that is present in everyone’s soul, and the instrument with which each of us learns: just as an eye cannot be turned around from darkness to light except by turning the whole body, so this instrument must be turned around from what-comes-to-be together with the whole soul, until it is able to bear to look at what is and at the brightest thing that is—the one we call the good. Isn’t that right? GLAUCON: Yes. SOCRATES: Of this very thing, then, there would be a craft—namely, of this turning around—concerned with how this instrument can be most easily and effectively turned around, not of putting sight into it. On the contrary, it takes for granted that sight is there, though not turned in the right way or looking where it should look, and contrives to redirect it appropriately. GLAUCON: That’s probably right. SOCRATES: Then the other so-called virtues of the soul do seem to be closely akin to those of the body: they really are not present in it initially, but are added later by habit and practice. The virtue of wisdom, on the other hand, belongs above all, so it seems, to something more divine, which never loses its power, but is either useful and beneficial or useless and harmful, depending on the way it is turned. Or haven’t you ever noticed in people who are said to be bad, but clever, how keen the vision of their little soul is and how sharply it distinguishes the things it is turned toward? This shows that its sight is not inferior, but is forced to serve vice, so that the sharper it sees, the more evils it accomplishes. GLAUCON: I certainly have. SOCRATES: However, if this element of this sort of nature had been hammered at right from childhood, and struck free of the leaden weights, as it were, of kinship with becoming, which have been fastened to it by eating and other such pleasures and indulgences, which pull its soul’s vision downward2—if, I say, it got rid of these and turned toward truly real things, then the same element of the same people would see them most sharply, just as it now does the things it is now turned toward. GLAUCON: That’s probably right. SOCRATES: Isn’t it also probable, then—indeed, doesn’t it follow necessarily from what was said before—that uneducated people who have no experience of true reality will never adequately govern a city, and neither will people who have been allowed to spend their whole lives in education. The former fail because they do not have a single goal in life at which all their actions, public and private, inevitably aim; the latter because they would refuse to act, thinking they had emigrated, while still alive, to the Isles of the Blessed. GLAUCON: True. SOCRATES: It is our task as founders, then, to compel the best natures to learn what was said before3 to be the most important thing: namely, to see the good; to ascend that ascent. And when they have ascended and looked sufficiently, we must not allow them to do what they are allowed to do now. GLAUCON: What’s that, then? SOCRATES: To stay there and refuse to go down again to the prisoners in the cave and share their labors and honors, whether the inferior ones or the more excellent ones. GLAUCON: You mean we are to treat them unjustly, making them live a worse life when they could live a better one? SOCRATES: You have forgotten again, my friend, that the law is not concerned with making any one class in the city do outstandingly well, but is contriving to produce this condition in the city as a whole, harmonizing the citizens together through persuasion or compulsion, and making them share with each other the benefit they can confer on the community.4 It produces such men in the city, not in order to allow them to turn in whatever direction each one wants, but to make use of them to bind the city together. GLAUCON: That’s true. Yes, I had forgotten. SOCRATES: Observe, then, Glaucon, that we won’t be unjustly treating those who have become philosophers in our city, but that what we will say to them, when we compel them to take care of the others and guard them, will be just. We will say:“When people like you come to be in other cities, they are justified in not sharing in the others’ labors. After all, they have grown there spontaneously, against the will of the constitution in each of them. And when something grows of its own accord and owes no debt for its upbringing, it has justice on its side when it is not keen to pay anyone for its upbringing. But both for your own sakes and for that of the rest of the city, we have bred you to be leaders and kings in the hive, so to speak. You are better and more completely educated than the others, and better able to share in both types of life.5 So each of you in turn must go down to live in the common dwelling place of the other citizens and grow accustomed to seeing in the dark. For when you are used to it, you will see infinitely better than the people there and know precisely what each image is, and also what it is an image of, because you have seen the truth about fine, just, and good things. So the city will be awake, governed by us and by you; not dreaming like the majority of cities nowadays, governed by men who fight against one another over shadows and form factions in order to rule— as if that were a great good.6 No, the truth of the matter is surely this: a city in which those who are going to rule are least eager to rule is necessarily best and freest from faction, whereas a city with the opposite kind of rulers is governed in the opposite way.” GLAUCON: Yes, indeed. SOCRATES: Then do you think the people we have nurtured will disobey us when they hear these things, and be unwilling to share the labors of the city, each in turn, and wish instead to live the greater part of their time with one another in the pure realm? GLAUCON: No, they couldn’t possibly. After all, we will be giving just orders to just people. However, each of them will certainly go to rule as to something necessary, which is exactly the opposite of what is done by those who now rule in each city. SOCRATES: That’s right, comrade. If you can find a way of life that is better than ruling for those who are going to rule, your well-governed city will become a possibility. You see, in it alone the truly rich will rule—those who are rich not in gold, but in the wealth the happy must have: namely, a good and rational life. But if beggars—people hungry for private goods of their own—go into public life, thinking that the good is there for the seizing, then such a city is impossible. For when ruling is something fought over, such civil and domestic war destroys these men and the rest of the city as well. GLAUCON: That’s absolutely true. SOCRATES: Do you know of any other sort of life that looks down on political offices besides that of true philosophy? GLAUCON: No, by Zeus, I do not. SOCRATES: But surely it is those who are not lovers of ruling who must go do it. Otherwise, the rivaling lovers will fight over it. GLAUCON: Of course. SOCRATES: Who else, then, will you compel to go be guardians of the city if not those who know best what results in good government, and have different honors and a better life than the political? GLAUCON: No one else. SOCRATES: Do you want us to consider now how such people will come to exist, and how we will lead them up to the light, like those who are said to have gone up from Hades to the gods? GLAUCON: Yes, of course that’s what I want. SOCRATES: It seems, then, that this is not a matter of flipping a potsherd,7 but of turning a soul from a day that is a kind of night in comparison to the true day—that ascent to what is, which we say is true philosophy. GLAUCON: Yes, indeed. SOCRATES: Then mustn’t we try to discover what subjects have the power to bring this about? GLAUCON: Of course. SOCRATES: So what subject is it, Glaucon, that draws the soul from what is coming to be to what is? It occurs to me as I am speaking that we said, didn’t we, that these people must be athletes of war when they are young?8 GLAUCON: Yes, we did say that. SOCRATES: Then the subject we are looking for must also have this characteristic in addition to the former one. GLAUCON: Which? SOCRATES: It must not be useless to warlike men. GLAUCON: If possible, it must not. SOCRATES: Now, earlier they were educated by us in musical and physical training. GLAUCON: They were. SOCRATES: And surely physical training is concerned with what-comesto-be and dies, since it oversees the growth and decay of the body. GLAUCON: Obviously. SOCRATES: So it could not be the subject we are looking for. GLAUCON: No, it could not. SOCRATES: Is it, then, the musical training we described before? GLAUCON: But it is just the counterpart of physical training, if you remember. It educated the guardians through habits, conveying by harmony a certain harmoniousness of temper, not knowledge; and by rhythm a certain rhythmical quality. Its stories, whether fictional or nearer the truth, cultivated other habits akin to these. But as for a subject that leads to the destination you have in mind, of the sort you are looking for now, there was nothing of that in it. SOCRATES: Your reminder is exactly to the point. It really does not have anything of that sort. You’re a marvelous fellow, Glaucon, but what is there that does? The crafts all seemed to be somehow menial.9 GLAUCON: Of course. And yet, what subject is left that is separate from musical and physical training, and from the crafts? SOCRATES: Well, if we have nothing left beyond these, let’s consider one of those that touches all of them. GLAUCON: Which? SOCRATES: Why, for example, that common thing, the one that every type of craft, thought, and knowledge uses, and that is among the first things everyone has to learn. GLAUCON: Which one is that? SOCRATES: That inconsequential matter of distinguishing the numbers one, two, and three. In short, I mean number and calculation. Or isn’t it true that every type of craft and knowledge must share in them? GLAUCON: Indeed it is. SOCRATES: Then warfare must too. GLAUCON: It must. SOCRATES: In tragedies, at any rate, Palamedes is always showing up Agamemnon as a totally ridiculous general. Haven’t you noticed? He says that by inventing numbers he established how many troops there were in the army at Ilium and counted their ships and everything else. The implication is that they had not been counted before, and that Agamemnon apparently did not even know how many feet he had, since he did not know how to count. What kind of general do you think that made him? GLAUCON: A very strange one, I’d say, if there is any truth in that. SOCRATES: Won’t we posit this subject, then, as one a warrior has to learn so he can count and calculate? GLAUCON: It is more essential than anything else—if, that is, he is going to know anything at all about marshaling his troops—or if he is even going to be human, for that matter. SOCRATES: Then do you notice the same thing about this subject as I do? GLAUCON: What? SOCRATES: That in all likelihood it is one of the subjects we were looking for that naturally stimulate the understanding. But no one uses it correctly, as something that really is fitted in every way to draw us toward being. GLAUCON: How do you mean? SOCRATES: I will try to make what I believe clear, at any rate. I will distinguish for myself the things that lead in the direction we mentioned from those that do not. Then you must look at them along with me, and either agree or disagree, so that we may see more clearly whether the distinction is as I imagine. GLAUCON: Show me the things you mean. SOCRATES: All right, I will show you, if you can see that some senseperceptions do not summon the understanding to look into them, because the judgment of sense-perception is itself adequate; whereas others encourage it in every way to look into them, because sense-perception does not produce a sound result. GLAUCON: You are obviously referring to things appearing in the distance and illusionist paintings. SOCRATES: No, you are not quite getting what I mean. GLAUCON: Then what do you mean? SOCRATES: The ones that do not summon the understanding are all those that do not at the same time result in an opposite sense-perception. But the ones that do I call summoners. That is when sense-perception does not make one thing any more clear than its opposite, regardless of whether what strikes the senses is close by or far away. What I mean will be clearer if you look at it this way: these, we say, are three fingers—the smallest, the second, and the middle finger. GLAUCON: Of course. SOCRATES: Assume that I am talking about them as being seen from close by. Now consider this about them with me. GLAUCON: What? SOCRATES: It is obvious, surely, that each of them is equally a finger, and it makes no difference whether it is seen to be in the middle or at either end; whether it is dark or pale, thick or thin, or anything else of that sort. You see, in all these cases, the soul of most people is not compelled to ask the understanding what a finger is, since sight does not at any point suggest to it that a finger is at the same time the opposite of a finger. GLAUCON: No, it does not. SOCRATES: It is likely, then, that a perception of that sort would not summon or awaken the understanding. GLAUCON: It is likely. SOCRATES: Now, what about their bigness and smallness? Does sight perceive them adequately? Does it make no difference to it whether one of them is in the middle or at the end? And is it the same with the sense of touch, as regards thickness and thinness, hardness and softness? What about the other senses, then—do they make such things sufficiently clear? Or doesn’t each of them work as follows: in the first place, the sense that deals with hardness must also deal with softness; and it reports to the soul that it perceives the same thing to be both hard and soft? GLAUCON: That’s right. SOCRATES: In cases of this sort then, isn’t the soul inevitably puzzled as to what this sense-perception means by hardness, if it says that the same thing is also soft; and in the case of the sense-perception of lightness and heaviness, what it means lightness and heaviness are, if what is heavy is light or what is light heavy? GLAUCON: Yes, indeed, those are strange messages for the soul to receive and do need to be examined. SOCRATES: It is likely, then, that it is in cases of this sort that the soul, summoning calculation and understanding, first tries to determine whether each of the things reported to it is one or two. GLAUCON: Of course. SOCRATES: If there are obviously two, won’t each of them be obviously one and distinct? GLAUCON: Yes. SOCRATES: If each of them is one, then, and both together are two, the soul will understand that the two are separate. I mean, it would not understand inseparable things as two, but as one. GLAUCON: That’s right. SOCRATES: But sight, we say, saw bigness and smallness, not as separate, but as mixed up together. Right? SOCRATES: Then they obviously lead toward truth. GLAUCON: To an unnatural degree. SOCRATES: Then they would belong, it seems, among the subjects we are seeking. I mean, a soldier must learn them in order to marshal his troops; and a philosopher, because it is necessary to be rising up out of becoming so as to grasp being, or he will never become able to calculate. GLAUCON: That’s right. SOCRATES: And our guardian is, in fact, both a warrior and a philosopher. GLAUCON: Of course. SOCRATES: Then it would be appropriate, Glaucon, to prescribe this subject in our legislation and to persuade those who are going to take part in what is most important in the city to go in for calculation and take it up, not as laymen do, but staying with it until they reach the point at which they see the nature of the numbers by means of understanding itself; not like tradesmen and retailers, caring about it for the sake of buying and selling, but for the sake of war and for ease in turning the soul itself around from becoming to truth and being. GLAUCON: Very well put. SOCRATES: Moreover, it occurs to me now that the subject of calculation has been mentioned, how refined it is and in how many ways it is useful for our purposes, provided you practice it for the sake of knowledge rather than trade. GLAUCON: Which ways? SOCRATES: Why, in the very one we were talking about just now. It gives the soul a strong lead upward and compels it to discuss the numbers themselves, never permitting anyone to propose for discussion numbers attached to visible or tangible bodies. I mean, you surely know what people who are clever in these matters are like. If, in the course of the argument, someone tries to divide the number one itself, they laugh and won’t permit it. If you divide it, they multiply it, taking care that the number one never appears to be, not one, but many parts. GLAUCON: That’s very true. SOCRATES: Then what do you think would happen, Glaucon, if someone were to ask them:“What kind of numbers are you amazing fellows discussing, where the number one is as you assume it to be, wholly equal in each and every case, without the least difference, and having no internal parts?” What do you think they would answer? GLAUCON: I think they would answer that they are talking about those that are accessible only to thought and can be grasped in no other way. SOCRATES: Do you see then, my friend, that this subject really does seem to be necessary to us, since it apparently compels the soul to use understanding itself on the truth itself? GLAUCON: It does so very strongly, in fact. SOCRATES: Now, have you ever noticed that those who are naturally good at calculation are also naturally quick in all subjects, so to speak, and that those who are slow, if they are educated and exercised in it, even if they are benefited in no other way, nonetheless improve and become generally sharper than they were? GLAUCON: That’s right. SOCRATES: Moreover, I do not think you will easily find many subjects that are harder to learn or practice than it. GLAUCON: No indeed. SOCRATES: For all these reasons, then, this subject is not to be neglected. On the contrary, the very best natures must be educated in it. GLAUCON: I agree. SOCRATES: Well, then, let’s require that one. Second, let’s consider whether the subject that follows after it is also appropriate for our purposes. GLAUCON: Which one? Or do you mean geometry? SOCRATES: That’s it exactly. GLAUCON: Insofar as it pertains to war, it is clearly appropriate. You see, when it comes to setting up camp, occupying a region, gathering and ordering troops, and all the other maneuvers armies make whether in battle itself or on the march, it makes all the difference whether someone is skilled in geometry or not. SOCRATES: But still, for things like that, even a little bit of geometry—and of calculation—would suffice. What we need to consider is whether the greater and more advanced part of it tends to make it easier to see the form of the good. And that tendency, we say, is to be found in anything that compels the soul to turn itself around toward the region in which lies the happiest of the things that are; the one the soul must do everything possible to see. GLAUCON: You are right. SOCRATES: Therefore, if geometry compels one to look at being, it is appropriate; but if at becoming, it is inappropriate. GLAUCON: Yes, that’s what we are saying. SOCRATES: Now, no one with even a little experience of geometry will dispute with us that this science is itself entirely the opposite of what is said about it in the accounts of its practitioners. GLAUCON: How so? SOCRATES: Well, they say completely ridiculous things about it because they are so hard up. I mean, they talk as if they were practical people who make all their arguments for the sake of action. They talk of squaring, applying, adding, and the like; whereas, in fact, the entire subject is practiced for the sake of acquiring knowledge. GLAUCON: Absolutely. SOCRATES: Mustn’t we also agree on a further point? GLAUCON: What? SOCRATES: That it is knowledge of what always is, not of something that comes to be and passes away. GLAUCON: That’s easy to agree to, since geometry is knowledge of what always is. SOCRATES: In that case, my noble fellow, it can draw the soul toward truth and produce philosophical thought by directing upward what we now wrongly direct downward. GLAUCON: More than anything else. SOCRATES: More than anything else, then, we must require the inhabitants of your beautiful city not to neglect geometry in any way, since even its byproducts are not insignificant. GLAUCON: What are they? SOCRATES: The ones you mentioned that are concerned with war. And in addition, when it comes to being better able to pick up any subject, we surely know there is a world of difference between someone with a grasp of geometry and someone without one. GLAUCON: Yes, by Zeus, a world of difference. SOCRATES: Shall we prescribe it, then, as a second subject for the young? GLAUCON: Let’s. SOCRATES: What about astronomy? Shall we make it the third? What do you think? GLAUCON: That’s fine with me, at least. I mean, a better awareness of the seasons, months, and years is no less appropriate for a general than for a farmer or navigator. SOCRATES: You are funny! You are like someone who is afraid that the masses will think he is prescribing useless subjects. It is no inconsequential task—indeed it is a very difficult one—to become persuaded that in everyone’s soul there is an instrument that is purified and rekindled by such subjects when it has been blinded and destroyed by other pursuits—an instrument that it is more important to preserve than 10,000 eyes, since only with it can the truth be seen. Those who share your belief that this is so will think you are speaking incredibly well, while those who are completely unaware of it will probably think you are talking nonsense, since they can see no other benefit worth mentioning in these subjects. So, decide right now which group you are engaging in discussion. Or is it neither of them, and are you making your arguments mostly for your own sake—though you do not begrudge anyone else whatever profit he can get from them? GLAUCON: That’s what I prefer—to speak, question, and answer mostly for my own sake. SOCRATES: Let’s backtrack a bit. You see, we were wrong just now about the subject that comes after geometry. GLAUCON: How so? SOCRATES: After a plain surface, we went immediately to a solid that was revolving, without taking one just by itself. But the right way is to take up the third dimension after the second. And it, I suppose, consists of cubes and of whatever shares in depth. GLAUCON: Yes, you are right. But Socrates, that subject has not even been investigated yet. SOCRATES: There are two reasons for that. Because no city values it, it is not vigorously investigated, due to its difficulty. And investigators need a director if they are to discover anything. Now, in the first place, such a director is difficult to find. Second, even if he could be found, as things stand now, those who investigate it are too arrogant to obey him. But if an entire city served as his co-director and took the lead in valuing this subject, then they would obey him, and consistent and vigorous investigation would reveal the facts about it. For even now, when it is not valued by the masses and is hampered by investigators who lack any account of its usefulness—all the same, in spite of all these handicaps, the force of its appeal has caused it to be developed. So it would not be at all surprising if the facts about it were revealed in any case. GLAUCON: Yes, indeed, it is an outstandingly appealing subject. But explain more clearly to me what you were saying just now. You took geometry, presumably, as dealing with plane surface. SOCRATES: Yes. GLAUCON: Then at first you put astronomy after it, but later you went back on that. SOCRATES: Yes, the more I hurried to get through them all, the slower I went! You see, the subject dealing with the dimension of depth was next. But because of the ridiculous state the investigation of it is in, I passed it by and spoke of astronomy—which deals with the motion of things having depth—after geometry. GLAUCON: That’s right. SOCRATES: Let’s then prescribe astronomy as the fourth subject, on the assumption that solid geometry, which we are now omitting, will be available if a city takes it up. GLAUCON: That seems reasonable. And since you reproached me just now, Socrates, for praising astronomy in a vulgar manner, I will now praise it your way. You see, I think it is clear to everyone that it compels the soul to look upward and leads it from things here to things there. SOCRATES: It is clear to everyone except me, then, since that is not how I think of it. GLAUCON: Then how do you think of it? SOCRATES: As it is handled today by those who teach philosophy, it makes the soul look very much downward. GLAUCON: How do you mean? SOCRATES: In my opinion, your conception of “higher studies” is a good deal too generous! I mean, if someone were looking at something by leaning his head back and studying ornaments on a ceiling, it seems as though you would say that he is looking at them with his understanding, not with his eyes! Maybe you are right and I am foolish. You see, I just cannot conceive of any subject making the soul look upward except the one that is concerned with what is—and that is invisible. If anyone tries to learn something about perceptible things, whether by gaping upward or squinting downward, I would say that he never really learns—since there is no knowledge to be had of such things—and that his soul is not looking up but down, whether he does his learning lying on his back on land or on sea! GLAUCON: A fair judgment! You are right to reproach me. But what did you mean, then, when you said that astronomy must be learned in a different way than people learn it at present, if it is going to be useful with regard to what we are talking about? SOCRATES: It is like this: these ornaments in the heavens, since they are ornaments in something visible, may certainly be regarded as having the most beautiful and most exact motions that such things can have. But these fall far short of the true ones—those motions in which the things that are really fast or really slow, as measured in true numbers and as forming all the true geometrical figures, are moved relative to one another, and that move the things that are in them. And these, of course, must be grasped by reason and thought, not by sight. Don’t you agree? GLAUCON: Of course. SOCRATES: Therefore, we should use the ornaments in the heavens as models to help us study these other things.10 It is just as if someone chanced to find diagrams by Daedalus or some other craftsman or painter, which were very carefully drawn and worked out. I mean, anyone experienced in geometry who saw such things would consider them to be very beautifully executed, I suppose. But he would think it ridiculous to examine them seriously in order to find there the truth about equals, doubles, or any other ratio. GLAUCON: How could it be anything but ridiculous? SOCRATES: Don’t you think, then, that a real astronomer will feel the same way when he looks at the motions of the stars? He will believe that the craftsman of the heavens arranged them and all that is in them in the most beautiful way possible for such things. But as for the ratio of night to day, of these to a month, of a month to a year, or of the motions of the stars to them or to each other, don’t you think he will consider it strange to believe that they are always the same and never deviate in the least, since they are connected to body and are visible things, or to seek by every means possible to grasp the truth about them? GLAUCON: That’s what I think—anyway, now that I hear it from you! SOCRATES: Just as in geometry, then, it is by making use of problems that we will pursue astronomy too. We will leave the things in the heavens alone, if we are really going to participate in astronomy and make the naturally wise element in the soul useful instead of useless. GLAUCON: The task you are prescribing is a lot bigger than anything now attempted in astronomy. SOCRATES: And I suppose we will prescribe other subjects in the same way, if we are to be of any benefit as lawgivers. But can you in fact suggest any other appropriate subjects? GLAUCON: Not at the moment, anyway. SOCRATES: But motion, it seems to me, presents itself, not just in one form, but in several. A wise person could probably list them all, but there are two that are evident even to us. GLAUCON: What are they? SOCRATES: Besides the one we have discussed, there is also its counterpart. GLAUCON: What’s that? SOCRATES: It is probable that as the eyes fasten on astronomical motions, so the ears fasten on harmonic ones, and that these two sciences are somehow akin, as the Pythagoreans say. And we agree, Glaucon. Don’t we? GLAUCON: We do. SOCRATES: Then, since the task is so huge, shouldn’t we ask them their opinion and whether they have anything to add, all the while guarding our own requirement? GLAUCON: What’s that? SOCRATES: That those we will be rearing should never attempt to learn anything incomplete,11 anything that does not always come out at the place all things should reach—the one we mentioned just now in the case of astronomy.12 Or don’t you know that people do something similar with harmony, too? They measure audible concordances and sounds against one another, and so labor in vain, just like astronomers. GLAUCON: Yes, by the gods, and pretty ridiculous they are, too. They talk about something they call a “dense interval” or quarter tone13—putting their ears to their instruments, like someone trying to overhear what the neighbors are saying. And some say they hear a tone in between, and that it is the shortest interval by which they must measure, while others argue that this tone sounds the same as a quarter tone. Both groups put ears before the understanding. SOCRATES: You mean those excellent fellows who vex their strings, torturing them and stretching them on pegs. I won’t draw out the analogy by speaking of blows with the pick, or the charges laid against strings that are too responsive or too unresponsive. Instead, I will drop the analogy and say that I do not mean these people, but the ones we just said we were going to question about harmonics. You see, they do the same as the astronomers do. I mean, it is in these audible concordances that they search for numbers, but they do not ascend to problems or investigate which numbers are in concord and which are not, or what the explanation is in each case. GLAUCON: But that would be a daimonic task! SOCRATES: Yet, it is useful in the search for the beautiful and the good! Pursued for any other purpose, though, it is useless. GLAUCON: I suppose so. SOCRATES: Moreover, I take it that if the investigation of all the subjects we have mentioned arrives at what they share in common with one another and what their affinities are, and draws conclusions about their kinship, it does contribute something to our goal and is not labor in vain; but that otherwise it is in vain. GLAUCON: I have the same hunch myself. But you are still talking about a very big task, Socrates. SOCRATES: Do you mean the prelude, or what? Or don’t you know that all these subjects are merely preludes to the theme14 itself that must be learned? I mean, you surely do not think that people who are clever in these matters are dialecticians. GLAUCON: No, by Zeus, I do not. Although, I have met a few exceptions. SOCRATES: But did it ever seem to you that those who can neither give an account nor approve one know what any of the things are that we say they must know? GLAUCON: Again, the answer is no. SOCRATES: Then isn’t this at last, Glaucon, the theme itself that dialectical discussion sings? It itself is intelligible. But the power of sight imitates it. We said that sight tries at last to look at the animals themselves, the stars themselves, and, in the end, at the sun itself.15 In the same way, whenever someone tries, by means of dialectical discussion and without the aid of any sense-perceptions, to arrive through reason at the being of each thing itself, and does not give up until he grasps what good itself is16 with understanding itself, he reaches the end of the intelligible realm, just as the other reached the end of the visible one. GLAUCON: Absolutely. SOCRATES: Well, then, don’t you call this journey17 dialectic? GLAUCON: I do. SOCRATES: Then the release from bonds and the turning around from shadows to statues and the light; and then the ascent out of the cave to the sun; and there the continuing inability to look directly at the animals, the plants, and the light of the sun, but instead at divine reflections in water and shadows of the things that are, and not, as before, merely at shadows of statues thrown by another source of light that, when judged in relation to the sun, is as shadowy as they—all this practice of the crafts we mentioned has the power to lead the best part of the soul upward until it sees the best among the things that are, just as before the clearest thing in the body was led to the brightest thing in the bodily and visible world. GLAUCON: I accept that this is so. And yet, I think it is very difficult to accept; although—in another way—difficult not to accept! All the same, since the present occasion is not our only opportunity to hear these things, but we will get to return to them often in the future, let’s assume that what you said about them just now is true and turn to the theme itself, and discuss it in the same way as we did the prelude. So, tell us then, in what way the power of dialectical discussion works, into what kinds it is divided, and what roads it follows. I mean, it is these, it seems, that would lead us at last to that place which is a rest from the road, so to speak, for the one who reaches it, and an end of his journey. SOCRATES: You won’t be able to follow me any farther, my dear Glaucon—though not because of any lack of eagerness on my part. You would no longer see an image of what we are describing, but the truth itself as it seems to me, at least.18 Whether it is really so or not—that’s not something on which it is any longer worth insisting. But that there is some such thing to be seen, that is something on which we must insist. Isn’t that so? GLAUCON: Of course. SOCRATES: And mustn’t we also insist that the power of dialectical discussion could reveal it only to someone experienced in the subjects we described, and cannot do so in any other way? GLAUCON: Yes, that is worth insisting on, too. SOCRATES: At the very least, no one will dispute our claim by arguing that there is another road of inquiry that tries to acquire a systematic and wholly general grasp of what each thing itself is. By contrast, all the other crafts are concerned with human beliefs and appetites, with growing or construction, or with the care of growing or constructed things. As for the rest, we described them as to some extent grasping what is—I mean, geometry and the subjects that follow it. For we saw that while they do dream about what is, they cannot see it while wide awake as long as they make use of hypotheses that they leave undisturbed, and for which they cannot give any argument. After all, when the first principle is unknown, and the conclusion and the steps in between are put together out of what is unknown, what mechanism could possibly turn any agreement reached in such cases into knowledge?19 GLAUCON: None. SOCRATES: Therefore, dialectic is the only investigation that, doing away with hypotheses, journeys to the first principle itself in order to be made secure. And when the eye of the soul is really buried in a sort of barbaric bog, dialectic gently pulls it out and leads it upward, using the crafts we described to help it and cooperate with it in turning the soul around. From force of habit, we have often called these branches of knowledge. But they need another name, since they are clearer than belief and darker than knowledge. We distinguished them by the term “thought” somewhere before.21 But I don’t suppose we will dispute about names, with matters as important as those before us to investigate. GLAUCON: Of course not, just as long as they express the state of clarity the soul possesses. SOCRATES: It will be satisfactory, then, to do what we did before and call the first section knowledge, the second thought, the third opinion, and the fourth imagination. The last two together we call belief, the other two, understanding.22 Belief is concerned with becoming; understanding with being. And as being is to becoming, so understanding is to belief; and as understanding is to belief, so knowledge is to belief and thought to imagination. But as for the ratios between the things these deal with, and the division of either the believable or the intelligible section into two, let’s pass them by, Glaucon, in case they involve us in discussions many times longer than the ones we have already gone through. GLAUCON: I agree with you about the rest of them, anyway, insofar as I am able to follow. SOCRATES: So don’t you, too, call someone a dialectician when he is able to grasp an account of the being of each thing? And when he cannot do so, won’t you, too, say that to the extent that he cannot give an account of something either to himself or to another, to that extent he does not understand it? GLAUCON: How could I not? SOCRATES: Then the same applies to the good. Unless someone can give an account of the form of the good, distinguishing it from everything else, and can survive all examination as if in a battle, striving to examine23 things not in accordance with belief, but in accordance with being; and can journey through all that with his account still intact, you will say that he does not know the good itself or any other good whatsoever. And if he does manage to grasp some image of it, you will say that it is through belief, not knowledge, that he grasps it; that he is dreaming and asleep throughout his present life; and that, before he wakes up here, he will arrive in Hades and go to sleep forever. GLAUCON: Yes, by Zeus, I will certainly say all that. SOCRATES: Then as for those children of yours, the ones you are rearing and educating in your discussion, if you ever reared them in fact, I don’t suppose that, while they are still as irrational as the proverbial lines,24 you would allow them to rule in your city or control the most important things. GLAUCON: No, of course not. SOCRATES: Won’t you prescribe in your legislation, then, that they are to give the most attention to the education that will enable them to ask and answer questions most knowledgeably? GLAUCON: I will prescribe it—together with you. SOCRATES: Doesn’t it seem to you, then, that dialectic is just like a capstone we have placed on top of the subjects, and that no other subject can rightly be placed above it, but that our account of the subjects has now come to an end? GLAUCON: It does. SOCRATES: Then it remains for you to deal with the distribution of these subjects: to whom we will assign them and in what way. GLAUCON: Clearly. SOCRATES: Do you remember what sort of people we chose in our earlier selection of rulers?25 GLAUCON: How could I not? SOCRATES: Well then, as regards the other requirements too, you must suppose that these same natures are to be chosen, since we have to select the most secure, the most courageous, and—as far as possible—the bestlooking.26 In addition, we must look not only for people who have a noble and valiant character, but for those who also have natural qualities conducive to this education of ours. GLAUCON: Which ones in particular? SOCRATES: They must be keen on the subjects, bless you, and learn them without difficulty. For people’s souls are much more likely to give up during strenuous studies than during physical training. The pain is more their own, you see, since it is peculiar to them and not shared with the body. GLAUCON: That’s true. SOCRATES: We must also look for someone who has a good memory, is persistent, and is wholeheartedly in love with hard work. How else do you suppose he would be willing to carry out such hard physical labors and also complete so much learning and training? GLAUCON: He would not, not unless his nature were an entirely good one. SOCRATES: In any case, the mistake made at present—which, as we said before, explains why philosophy has fallen into dishonor—is that unworthy people take it up. For illegitimate people should not have taken it up, but genuine ones. GLAUCON: How do you mean? SOCRATES: In the first place, the one who takes it up must not be halfhearted in his love of hard work, with one half of him loving hard work and the other shirking it. That is what happens when someone is a lover of physical training and a lover of hunting and a lover of all kinds of hard bodily labor; yet is not a lover of learning, a lover of listening, or a keen investigator, but hates the work involved in all such things. And someone whose love of hard work tends in the opposite direction is also defective. GLAUCON: That’s absolutely true. SOCRATES: Similarly with regard to truth, won’t we say that a soul is maimed if it hates a voluntary lie, cannot endure to have one in itself, and is greatly angered when others lie; but is nonetheless content to accept an involuntary lie, does not get irritated when it is caught being ignorant, and bears its ignorance easily, wallowing in it like a pig?27 GLAUCON: Absolutely. SOCRATES: And with regard to temperance, courage, high-mindedness, and all the other parts of virtue, too, we must be especially on our guard to distinguish the illegitimate from the genuine. You see, when private individuals or cities do not know how to investigate all these things fully, they unwittingly employ defectives and illegitimates as their friends or rulers for whatever services they happen to need. GLAUCON: Yes, that’s just what happens. SOCRATES: So we must take good care in all these matters, since, if we bring people who are sound of limb and mind to so important a subject, and train and educate them in it, justice itself will not find fault with us, and we will save both the city and its constitution. But if we bring people of a different sort to it, we will achieve precisely the opposite and let loose an even greater flood of ridicule upon philosophy as well. GLAUCON: That would be a shame. SOCRATES: It certainly would. But I seem to have made myself a little ridiculous just now. GLAUCON: In what way? SOCRATES: I forgot we were playing and spoke too vehemently. You see, while I was speaking I looked upon philosophy, and when I saw it undeservedly showered with abuse, I suppose I got irritated and, as if I were angry with those responsible, I said what I had to say in too serious a manner. GLAUCON: Not too serious for me, by Zeus, as a member of the audience. SOCRATES: But too serious for me as the speaker. In any case, let’s not forget that in our earlier selection we chose older people, but here that is not permitted. You see, we must not believe Solon when he says that as someone grows older, he is able to learn a lot. On the contrary, he is even less able to learn than to run. It is to young people that all large and frequent labors properly belong. GLAUCON: Necessarily so. SOCRATES: Well, then, calculation, geometry, and all the preparatory education that serves as preparation for dialectic must be offered to them in childhood—and not in the shape of compulsory instruction, either. GLAUCON: Why’s that? SOCRATES: Because a free person should learn nothing slavishly. For while compulsory physical labors do no harm to the body, no compulsory instruction remains in the soul. GLAUCON: That’s true. SOCRATES: Well, then, do not use compulsion, my very good man, to train the children in these subjects; use play instead. That way you will also be able to see better what each of them is naturally suited for. GLAUCON: What you say makes sense. SOCRATES: Don’t you remember that we also said that the children were to be led into war on horseback as observers, and that, wherever it is safe, they should be brought to the front and given a taste of blood, just like young dogs? GLAUCON: I do remember. SOCRATES: Those who always show the greatest facility in dealing with all these labors, studies, and fears must be enrolled in a unit. GLAUCON: At what age? SOCRATES: After they are released from compulsory physical training. For during that period, whether it is two or three years, they are incapable of doing anything else, since weariness and sleep are enemies of learning. At the same time, one of the important tests of each of them is how he fares in physical training. GLAUCON: It certainly is. SOCRATES: Then, after that period, those selected from among the twenty-year-olds will receive greater honors than the others. Moreover, the subjects they learned in no particular order in their education as children, they must now bring together into a unified vision of their kinship with one another and with the nature of what is. GLAUCON: That, at any rate, is the only instruction that remains secure in those who receive it. SOCRATES: It is also the greatest test of which nature is dialectical and which is not. For the person who can achieve a unified vision is dialectical, and the one who cannot isn’t. GLAUCON: I agree. SOCRATES: Well, then, you will have to look out for those among them who most possess that quality; who are resolute in their studies and also resolute in war and the other things conventionally expected of them. And when they have passed their thirtieth year, you will have to select them in turn from among those selected earlier and assign them yet greater honors, and test them by means of the power of dialectical discussion to see which of them can relinquish his eyes and other senses, and travel on in the company of truth to what itself is. And here, comrade, you have a task that needs a lot of safeguarding. GLAUCON: How so? SOCRATES: Don’t you realize the harm caused by dialectical discussion as it is currently practiced? GLAUCON: What harm? SOCRATES: Its practitioners are filled with lawlessness. GLAUCON: They certainly are. SOCRATES: Do you think it is at all surprising that this happens to them? Aren’t you sympathetic? GLAUCON: Why should I be? SOCRATES: It is like the case of a supposititious child brought up amid great wealth, a large and powerful family, and many flatterers, who finds out, when he has become a man, that he is not the child of his professed parents and that he cannot discover his real ones. Do you have any hunch as to what his attitude would be to the flatterers, and to his supposed parents, during the time when he did not know about the exchange, and, on the other hand, when he did know? Or would you rather hear my hunch? GLAUCON: I would. SOCRATES: Well, then, my hunch is that he would be more likely to honor his father, his mother, and the rest of his supposed family than the flatterers, less likely to overlook any of their needs, less likely to treat them lawlessly in word or deed, and less likely to disobey them than the flatterers in any matters of importance, in the time when he did not know the truth. GLAUCON: Probably so. SOCRATES: But when he became aware of the truth, on the other hand, my hunch is that he would withdraw his honor and devotion from his family and increase them for the flatterers, whom he would obey far more than before, and he would begin to live the way they did, spend time with them openly, and—unless he was thoroughly good by nature—care nothing for that father of his or any of the rest of his supposed family. GLAUCON: All that would probably happen as you say. But how is it like the case of those who take up argument? SOCRATES: As follows. I take it we hold from childhood convictions about what things are just and fine; we are brought up with them as with our parents; we obey and honor them. GLAUCON: Yes, we do. SOCRATES: And there are also other practices, opposite to those, which possess pleasures that flatter our soul and attract it to themselves, but which do not persuade people who are at all moderate—who continue to honor and obey the convictions of their fathers. GLAUCON: That’s right. SOCRATES: What happens, then, when someone of that sort is met by the question,“What is the fine?” and, when he answers what he has heard from the traditional lawgiver, the argument refutes him; and by refuting him often and in many ways, reduces him to the belief that the fine is no more fine than shameful, and the same with the just, the good, and the things he honored most—what do you think he will do after that about honoring and obeying his earlier convictions? GLAUCON: It is inevitable that he won’t honor or obey them in the same way. SOCRATES: Then when he no longer regards them as honorable or as his own kin the way he did before, and cannot discover the true ones, will he be likely to adopt any other sort of life than the one that flatters him? GLAUCON: No, he won’t. SOCRATES: And so he will be taken, I suppose, to have changed from being law-abiding to being lawless. GLAUCON: Inevitably. SOCRATES: Isn’t it likely, then, that this is what will happen to people who take up argument in that way, and, as I said just now, don’t they deserve a lot of sympathy? GLAUCON: Yes, and pity too. SOCRATES: Then if you do not want your thirty-year-olds to be objects of such pity, won’t you have to employ every sort of precaution when they take up argument? GLAUCON: Yes, indeed. SOCRATES: And isn’t one very effective precaution not to let them taste argument while they are young? I mean, I don’t suppose it has escaped your notice that when young people get their first taste of argument, they misuse it as if it were playing a game, always using it for disputation.28 They imitate those who have refuted them by refuting others themselves,29 and, like puppies, enjoy dragging and tearing with argument anyone within reach. GLAUCON: Excessively so. SOCRATES: Then, when they have refuted many themselves and been refuted by many, they quickly fall into violently disbelieving everything they believed before. And as a result of this, they themselves and the whole of philosophy as well are discredited in the eyes of others. GLAUCON: That’s absolutely true. SOCRATES: But an older person would not be willing to take part in such madness. He will imitate someone who is willing to engage in dialectical discussion and look for the truth, rather than someone who plays at disputation as a game. He will be more moderate himself and will bring honor, rather than discredit, to the practice. GLAUCON: That’s right. SOCRATES: And wasn’t everything we said before this also said as a precaution—that those with whom one takes part in arguments are to be orderly and steady by nature, and not, as now, those, however unsuitable, who chance to come along? GLAUCON: Yes, it was.   SOCRATES: Is it enough, then, if someone devotes himself continuously and strenuously to taking part in argument, doing nothing else, but training in it just as he did in the physical training that is its counterpart, but for twice as many years? GLAUCON: Do you mean six years or four? SOCRATES: It does not matter. Make it five. You see, after that, you must make them go down into the cave again, and compel them to take command in matters of war and the other offices suitable for young people, so that they won’t be inferior to the others in experience. And in these offices, too, they must be tested to see whether they will remain steadfast when they are pulled in different directions, or give way. GLAUCON: How much time do you assign to that? SOCRATES: Fifteen years. Then, at the age of fifty, those who have survived the tests and are entirely best in every practical task and every science must be led at last to the end and compelled to lift up the radiant light of their souls, and to look toward what itself provides light for everything. And once they have seen the good itself, they must use it as their model and put the city, its citizens, and themselves in order throughout the remainder of their lives, each in turn. They will spend most of their time doing philosophy, but, when his turn comes, each must labor in politics and rule for the city’s sake, not as something fine, but rather as something that must be done.30 In that way, always having educated others like themselves to take their place as guardians of the city, they will depart for the Isles of the Blessed and dwell there. And the city will publicly establish memorials and sacrifices to them as daimons,31 if the Pythia agrees; but if not, as happy and divine people. GLAUCON: Like a sculptor,32 Socrates, you have produced thoroughly beautiful ruling men! SOCRATES: And ruling women, too, Glaucon. You see, you must not think that what I have said applies any more to men than it does to those women of theirs who are born with the appropriate natures. GLAUCON: That’s right, if indeed they are to share everything equally with the men, as we said. SOCRATES: Well, then, do you agree that the things we have said about the city and its constitution are not altogether wishful thinking; that it is difficult for them to come about, but possible in a way, and in no way except the one we described: namely, when one or more true philosophers