LAWS

 

By

 

Plato

 

348 BCE

 

Translated by Benjamin Jowett

 


CONTENTS:

 

PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: 3

BOOK I 4

BOOK II 28

BOOK III 49

BOOK IV.. 74

BOOK V.. 91

BOOK VI 106

BOOK VII 131

BOOK VIII 162

BOOK IX.. 180

BOOK X.. 203

BOOK XI 228

BOOK XII 247

 


PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE:

 

An ATHENIAN STRANGER 

CLEINIAS, a Cretan; 

MEGILLUS, a Lacedaemonian

 

                        


BOOK I

 

Athenian Stranger. Tell me, Strangers, is a God or some man supposed to  be the author of your laws?

 

Cleinias. A God, Stranger; in very truth a, God: among us Cretans he is  said to have been Zeus, but in Lacedaemon, whence our friend here comes,  I believe they would say that Apollo is their lawgiver: would they not,  Megillus?

 

Megillus. Certainly.

 

Ath. And do you, Cleinias, believe, as Homer tells, that every ninth  year Minos went to converse with his Olympian sire, and was inspired by  him to make laws for your cities?

 

Cle. Yes, that is our tradition; and there was Rhadamanthus, a brother  of his, with whose name you are familiar; he is reputed to have been the  justest of men, and we Cretans are of opinion that he earned this  reputation from his righteous administration of justice when he was  alive.

 

Ath. Yes, and a noble reputation it was, worthy of a son of Zeus. As you  and Megillus have been trained in these institutions, I dare say that  you will not be unwilling to give an account of your government and  laws; on our way we can pass the time pleasantly in about them, for I am  told that the distance from Cnosus to the cave and temple of Zeus is  considerable; and doubtless there are shady places under the lofty  trees, which will protect us from this scorching sun. Being no longer  young, we may often stop to rest beneath them, and get over the whole  journey without difficulty, beguiling the time by conversation.

 

Cle. Yes, Stranger, and if we proceed onward we shall come to groves of  cypresses, which are of rare height and beauty, and there are green  meadows, in which we may repose and converse.

 

Ath. Very good.

 

Cle. Very good, indeed; and still better when we see them; let us move  on cheerily.

 

Ath. I am willing — And first, I want to know why the law has ordained  that you shall have common meals and gymnastic exercises, and wear arms.

 

Cle. I think, Stranger, that the aim of our institutions is easily  intelligible to any one. Look at the character of our country: Crete is  not like Thessaly, a large plain; and for this reason they have horsemen  in Thessaly, and we have runners — the inequality of the ground in our  country is more adapted to locomotion on foot; but then, if you have  runners you must have light arms — no one can carry a heavy weight when  running, and bows and arrows are convenient because they are light. Now  all these regulations have been made with a view to war, and the  legislator appears to me to have looked to this in all his arrangements:  the common meals, if I am not mistaken, were instituted by him for a  similar reason, because he saw that while they are in the field the  citizens are by the nature of the case compelled to take their meals  together for the sake of mutual protection. He seems to me to have  thought the world foolish in not understanding that all are always at  war with one another; and if in war there ought to be common meals and  certain persons regularly appointed under others to protect an army,  they should be continued in peace. For what men in general term peace  would be said by him to be only a name; in reality every city is in a  natural state of war with every other, not indeed proclaimed by heralds,  but everlasting. And if you look closely, you will find that this was  the intention of the Cretan legislator; all institutions, private as  well as public, were arranged by him with a view to war; in giving them  he was under the impression that no possessions or institutions are of  any value to him who is defeated in battle; for all the good things of  the conquered pass into the hands of the conquerors.

 

Ath. You appear to me, Stranger, to have been thoroughly trained in the  Cretan institutions, and to be well informed about them; will you tell  me a little more explicitly what is the principle of government which  you would lay down? You seem to imagine that a well governed state ought  to be so ordered as to conquer all other states in war: am I right in  supposing this to be your meaning?

 

Cle. Certainly; and our Lacedaemonian friend, if I am not mistaken, will  agree with me.

 

Meg. Why, my good friend, how could any Lacedaemonian say anything else?

 

Ath. And is what you say applicable only to states, or also to villages?

 

Cle. To both alike.

 

Ath. The case is the same?

 

Cle. Yes.

 

Ath. And in the village will there be the same war of family against  family, and of individual against individual?

 

Cle. The same.

 

Ath. And should each man conceive himself to be his own enemy: what  shall we say?

 

Cle. O Athenian Stranger — inhabitant of Attica I will not call you, for  you seem to deserve rather to be named after the goddess herself,  because you go back to first principles you have thrown a light upon the  argument, and will now be better able to understand what I was just  saying — that all men are publicly one another’s enemies, and each man  privately his own.

 

(Ath. My good sir, what do you mean?) —

 

Cle. ... Moreover, there is a victory and defeat — the first and best of  victories, the lowest and worst of defeats — which each man gains or  sustains at the hands, not of another, but of himself; this shows that  there is a war against ourselves going on within every one of us.

 

Ath. Let us now reverse the order of the argument: Seeing that every  individual is either his own superior or his own inferior, may we say  that there is the same principle in the house, the village, and the  state?

 

Cle. You mean that in each of them there is a principle of superiority  or inferiority to self?

 

Ath. Yes.

 

Cle. You are quite right in asking the question, for there certainly is  such a principle, and above all in states; and the state in which the  better citizens win a victory over the mob and over the inferior classes  may be truly said to be better than itself, and may be justly praised,  where such a victory is gained, or censured in the opposite case.

 

Ath. Whether the better is ever really conquered by the worse, is a  question which requires more discussion, and may be therefore left for  the present. But I now quite understand your meaning when you say that  citizens who are of the same race and live in the same cities may  unjustly conspire, and having the superiority in numbers may overcome  and enslave the few just; and when they prevail, the state may be truly  called its own inferior and therefore bad; and when they are defeated,  its own superior and therefore good.

 

Cle. Your remark, Stranger, is a paradox, and yet we cannot possibly  deny it.

 

Ath. Here is another case for consideration; — in a family there may be  several brothers, who are the offspring of a single pair; very possibly  the majority of them may be unjust, and the just may be in a minority.

 

Cle. Very possibly.

 

Ath. And you and I ought not to raise a question of words as to whether  this family and household are rightly said to be superior when they  conquer, and inferior when they are conquered; for we are not now  considering what may or may not be the proper or customary way of  speaking, but we are considering the natural principles of right and  wrong in laws.

 

Cle. What you say, Stranger, is most true.

 

Meg. Quite excellent, in my opinion, as far as we have gone.

 

Ath. Again; might there not be a judge over these brethren, of whom we  were speaking?

 

Cle. Certainly.

 

Ath. Now, which would be the better judge — one who destroyed the bad  and appointed the good to govern themselves; or one who, while allowing  the good to govern, let the bad live, and made them voluntarily submit?  Or third, I suppose, in the scale of excellence might be placed a judge,  who, finding the family distracted, not only did not destroy any one,  but reconciled them to one another for ever after, and gave them laws  which they mutually observed, and was able to keep them friends.

 

Cle. The last would be by far the best sort of judge and legislator.

 

Ath. And yet the aim of all the laws which he gave would be the reverse  of war.

 

Cle. Very true.

 

Ath. And will he who constitutes the state and orders the life of man  have in view external war, or that kind of intestine war called civil,  which no one, if he could prevent, would like to have occurring in his  own state; and when occurring, every one would wish to be quit of as  soon as possible?

 

Cle. He would have the latter chiefly in view.

 

Ath. And would he prefer that this civil war should be terminated by the  destruction of one of the parties, and by the victory of the other, or  that peace and friendship should be re-established, and that, being  reconciled, they should give their attention to foreign enemies?

 

Cle. Every one would desire the latter in the case of his own state.

 

Ath. And would not that also be the desire of the legislator?

 

Cle. Certainly.

 

Ath. And would not every one always make laws for the sake of the best?

 

Cle. To be sure.

 

Ath. But war, whether external or civil, is not the best, and the need  of either is to be deprecated; but peace with one another, and good  will, are best. Nor is the victory of the state over itself to be  regarded as a really good thing, but as a necessity; a man might as well  say that the body was in the best state when sick and purged by  medicine, forgetting that there is also a state of the body which needs  no purge. And in like manner no one can be a true statesman, whether he  aims at the happiness of the individual or state, who looks only, or  first of all, to external warfare; nor will he ever be a sound  legislator who orders peace for the sake of war, and not war for the  sake of peace.

 

Cle. I suppose that there is truth, Stranger, in that remark of yours;  and yet I am greatly mistaken if war is not the entire aim and object of  our own institutions, and also of the Lacedaemonian.

 

Ath. I dare say; but there is no reason why we should rudely quarrel  with one another about your legislators, instead of gently questioning  them, seeing that both we and they are equally in earnest.

 

Please follow me and the argument closely: And first I will put forward  Tyrtaeus, an Athenian by birth, but also a Spartan citizen, who of all  men was most eager about war: Well, he says, “I sing not, I care not,  about any man, even if he were the richest of men, and possessed every  good (and then he gives a whole list of them), if he be not at all times  a brave warrior.” I imagine that you, too, must have heard his poems;  our Lacedaemonian friend has probably heard more than enough of them.

 

Meg. Very true.

 

Cle. And they have found their way from Lacedaemon to Crete.

 

Ath. Come now and let us all join in asking this question of Tyrtaeus: O  most divine poet, we will say to him, the excellent praise which you  have bestowed on those who excel in war sufficiently proves that you are  wise and good, and I and Megillus and Cleinias of Cnosus do, as I  believe, entirely agree with you. But we should like to be quite sure  that we are speaking of the same men; tell us, then, do you agree with  us in thinking that there are two kinds of war; or what would you say? A  far inferior man to Tyrtaeus would have no difficulty in replying quite  truly, that war is of two kinds one which is universally called civil  war, and is as we were just now saying, of all wars the worst; the  other, as we should all admit, in which we fall out with other nations  who are of a different race, is a far milder form of warfare.

 

Cle. Certainly, far milder.

 

Ath. Well, now, when you praise and blame war in this high-flown strain,  whom are you praising or blaming, and to which kind of war are you  referring? I suppose that you must mean foreign war, if I am to judge  from expressions of yours in which you say that you abominate those Who  refuse to look upon fields of blood, and will not draw near and strike  at their enemies. — And we shall naturally go on to say to him — You,  Tyrtaeus, as it seems, praise those who distinguish themselves in  external and foreign war; and he must admit this.

 

Cle. Evidently.

 

Ath. They are good; but we say that there are still better men whose  virtue is displayed in the greatest of all battles. And we too have a  poet whom we summon as a witness, Theognis, citizen of Megara in Sicily:  Cyrnus, he who is faithful in a civil broil is worth his weight in gold  and silver. — And such an one is far better, as we affirm, than the  other in a more difficult kind of war, much in the same degree as  justice and temperance and wisdom, when united with courage, are better  than courage only; for a man cannot be faithful and good in civil strife  without having all virtue. But in the war of which Tyrtaeus speaks, many  a mercenary soldier will take his stand and be ready to die at his post,  and yet they are generally and almost without exception insolent,  unjust, violent men, and the most senseless of human beings. You will  ask what the conclusion is, and what I am seeking to prove: I maintain  that the divine legislator of Crete, like any other who is worthy of  consideration, will always and above all things in making laws have  regard to the greatest virtue; which, according to Theognis, is loyalty  in the hour of danger, and may be truly called perfect justice. Whereas,  that virtue which Tyrtaeus highly praises is well enough, and was  praised by the poet at the right time, yet in place and dignity may be  said to be only fourth rate.

 

Cle. Stranger, we are degrading our inspired lawgiver to a rank which is  far beneath him.

 

Ath. Nay, I think that we degrade not him but ourselves, if we imagine  that Lycurgus and Minos laid down laws both in Lacedaemon and Crete  mainly with a view to war.

 

Cle. What ought we to say then?

 

Ath. What truth and what justice require of us, if I am not mistaken,  when speaking in behalf of divine excellence; — at the legislator when  making his laws had in view not a part only, and this the lowest part of  virtue, but all virtue, and that he devised classes of laws answering to  the kinds of virtue; not in the way in which modern inventors of laws  make the classes, for they only investigate and offer laws whenever a  want is felt, and one man has a class of laws about allotments and  heiresses, another about assaults; others about ten thousand other such  matters. But we maintain that the right way of examining into laws is to  proceed as we have now done, and I admired the spirit of your  exposition; for you were quite right in beginning with virtue, and  saying that this was the aim of the giver of the law, but I thought that  you went wrong when you added that all his legislation had a view only  to a part, and the least part of virtue, and this called forth my  subsequent remarks. Will you allow me then to explain how I should have  liked to have heard you expound the matter?

 

Cle. By all means.

 

Ath. You ought to have said, Stranger — The Cretan laws are with reason  famous among the Hellenes; for they fulfil the object of laws, which is  to make those who use them happy; and they confer every sort of good.  Now goods are of two kinds: there are human and there are divine goods,  and the human hang upon the divine; and the state which attains the  greater, at the same time acquires the less, or, not having the greater,  has neither. Of the lesser goods the first is health, the second beauty,  the third strength, including swiftness in running and bodily agility  generally, and the fourth is wealth, not the blind god [Pluto], but one  who is keen of sight, if only he has wisdom for his companion. For  wisdom is chief and leader of the divine dass of goods, and next follows  temperance; and from the union of these two with courage springs  justice, and fourth in the scale of virtue is courage.

 

All these naturally take precedence of the other goods, and this is the  order in which the legislator must place them, and after them he will  enjoin the rest of his ordinances on the citizens with a view to these,  the human looking to the divine, and the divine looking to their leader  mind. Some of his ordinances will relate to contracts of marriage which  they make one with another, and then to the procreation and education of  children, both male and female; the duty of the lawgiver will be to take  charge of his citizens, in youth and age, and at every time of life, and  to give them punishments and rewards; and in reference to all their  intercourse with one another, he ought to consider their pains and  pleasures and desires, and the vehemence of all their passions; he  should keep a watch over them, and blame and praise them rightly by the  mouth of the laws themselves. Also with regard to anger and terror, and  the other perturbations of the soul, which arise out of misfortune, and  the deliverances from them which prosperity brings, and the experiences  which come to men in diseases, or in war, or poverty, or the opposite of  these; in all these states he should determine and teach what is the  good and evil of the condition of each. In the next place, the  legislator has to be careful how the citizens make their money and in  what way they spend it, and to have an eye to their mutual contracts and  dissolutions of contracts, whether voluntary or involuntary: he should  see how they order all this, and consider where justice as well as  injustice is found or is wanting in their several dealings with one  another; and honour those who obey the law, and impose fixed penalties  on those who disobey, until the round of civil life is ended, and the  time has come for the consideration of the proper funeral rites and  honours of the dead. And the lawgiver reviewing his work, will appoint  guardians to preside over these things — some who walk by intelligence,  others by true opinion only, and then mind will bind together all his  ordinances and show them to be in harmony with temperance and justice,  and not with wealth or ambition.

 

This is the spirit, Stranger, in which I was and am desirous that you  should pursue the subject. And I want to know the nature of all these  things, and how they are arranged in the laws of Zeus, as they are  termed, and in those of the Pythian Apollo, which Minos and Lycurgus  gave; and how the order of them is discovered to his eyes, who has  experience in laws gained either by study or habit, although they are  far from being self-evident to the rest of mankind like ourselves.

 

Cle. How shall we proceed, Stranger?

 

Ath. I think that we must begin again as before, and first consider the  habit of courage; and then we will go on and discuss another and then  another form of virtue, if you please. In this way we shall have a model  of the whole; and with these and similar discourses we will beguile the  way. And when we have gone through all the virtues, we will show, by the  grace of God, that the institutions of which I was speaking look to  virtue.

 

Meg. Very good; and suppose that you first criticize this praiser of  Zeus and the laws of Crete.

 

Ath. I will try to criticize you and myself, as well as him, for the  argument is a common concern. Tell me — were not first the syssitia, and  secondly the gymnasia, invented by your legislator with a view to war?

 

Meg. Yes.

 

Ath. And what comes third, and what fourth? For that, I think, is the  sort of enumeration which ought to be made of the remaining parts of  virtue, no matter whether you call them parts or what their name is,  provided the meaning is clear.

 

Meg. Then I, or any other Lacedaemonian, would reply that hunting is  third in order.

 

Ath. Let us see if we can discover what comes fourth and fifth.

 

Meg. I think that I can get as far as the fouth head, which is the  frequent endurance of pain, exhibited among us Spartans in certain  hand-to-hand fights; also in stealing with the prospect of getting a  good beating; there is, too, the so-called Crypteia, or secret service,  in which wonderful endurance is shown — our people wander over the whole  country by day and by night, and even in winter have not a shoe to their  foot, and are without beds to lie upon, and have to attend upon  themselves. Marvellous, too, is the endurance which our citizens show in  their naked exercises, contending against the violent summer heat; and  there are many similar practices, to speak of which in detail would be  endless.

 

Ath. Excellent, O Lacedaemonian Stranger. But how ought we to define  courage? Is it to be regarded only as a combat against fears and pains,  or also against desires and pleasures, and against flatteries; which  exercise such a tremendous power, that they make the hearts even of  respectable citizens to melt like wax?

 

Meg. I should say the latter.

 

Ath. In what preceded, as you will remember, our Cnosian friend was  speaking of a man or a city being inferior to themselves: Were you not,  Cleinias?

 

Cle. I was.

 

Ath. Now, which is in the truest sense inferior, the man who is overcome  by pleasure or by pain?

 

Cle. I should say the man who is overcome by pleasure; for all men deem  him to be inferior in a more disgraceful sense, than the other who is  overcome by pain.

 

Ath. But surely the lawgivers of Crete and Lacedaemon have not  legislated for a courage which is lame of one leg, able only to meet  attacks which come from the left, but impotent against the insidious  flatteries which come from the right?

 

Cle. Able to meet both, I should say.

 

Ath. Then let me once more ask, what institutions have you in either of  your states which give a taste of pleasures, and do not avoid them any  more than they avoid pains; but which set a person in the midst of them,  and compel or induce him by the prospect of reward to get the better of  them? Where is an ordinance about pleasure similar to that about pain to  be found in your laws? Tell me what there is of this nature among you:  What is there which makes your citizen equally brave against pleasure  and pain, conquering what they ought to conquer, and superior to the  enemies who are most dangerous and nearest home?

 

Meg. I was able to tell you, Stranger, many laws which were directed  against pain; but I do not know that I can point out any great or  obvious examples of similar institutions which are concerned with  pleasure; there are some lesser provisions, however, which I might  mention.

 

Cle. Neither can I show anything of that sort which is at all equally  prominent in the Cretan laws.

 

Ath. No wonder, my dear friends; and if, as is very likely, in our  search after the true and good, one of us may have to censure the laws  of the others, we must not be offended, but take kindly what another  says.

 

Cle. You are quite right, Athenian Stranger, and we will do as you say.

 

Ath. At our time of life, Cleinias, there should be no feeling of  irritation.

 

Cle. Certainly not.

 

Ath. I will not at present determine whether he who censures the Cretan  or Lacedaemonian polities is right or wrong. But I believe that I can  tell better than either of you what the many say about them.

 

For assuming that you have reasonably good laws, one of the best of them  will be the law forbidding any young men to enquire which of them are  right or wrong; but with one mouth and one voice they must all agree  that the laws are all good, for they came from God; and any one who says  the contrary is not to be listened to. But an old man who remarks any  defect in your laws may communicate his observation to a ruler or to an  equal in years when no young man is present.

 

Cle. Exactly so, Stranger; and like a diviner, although not there at the  time, you seem to me quite to have hit the meaning of the legislator,  and to say what is most true.

 

Ath. As there are no young men present, and the legislator has given old  men free licence, there will be no impropriety in our discussing these  very matters now that we are alone.

 

Cle. True. And therefore you may be as free as you like in your censure  of our laws, for there is no discredit in knowing what is wrong; he who  receives what is said in a generous and friendly spirit will be all the  better for it.

 

Ath. Very good; however, I am not going to say anything against your  laws until to the best of my ability I have examined them, but I am  going to raise doubts about them. For you are the only people known to  us, whether Greek or barbarian, whom the legislator commanded to eschew  all great pleasures and amusements and never to touch them; whereas in  the matter of pains or fears which we have just been discussing, he  thought that they who from infancy had always avoided pains and fears  and sorrows, when they were compelled to face them would run away from  those who were hardened in them, and would become their subjects. Now  the legislator ought to have considered that this was equally true of  pleasure; he should have said to himself, that if our citizens are from  their youth upward unacquainted with the greatest pleasures, and unused  to endure amid the temptations of pleasure, and are not disciplined to  refrain from all things evil, the sweet feeling of pleasure will  overcome them just as fear would overcome the former class; and in  another, and even a worse manner, they will be the slaves of those who  are able to endure amid pleasures, and have had the opportunity of  enjoying them, they being often the worst of mankind. One half of their  souls will be a slave, the other half free; and they will not be worthy  to be called in the true sense men and freemen. Tell me whether you  assent to my words?

 

Cle. On first hearing, what you say appears to be the truth; but to be  hasty in coming to a conclusion about such important matters would be  very childish and simple.

 

Ath. Suppose, Cleinias and Megillus, that we consider the virtue which  follows next of those which we intended to discuss (for after courage  comes temperance), what institutions shall we find relating to  temperance, either in Crete or Lacedaemon, which, like your military  institutions, differ from those of any ordinary state.

 

Meg. That is not an easy question to answer; still I should say that the  common meals and gymnastic exercises have been excellently devised for  the promotion both of temperance and courage.

 

Ath. There seems to be a difficulty, Stranger, with regard to states, in  making words and facts coincide so that there can be no dispute about  them. As in the human body, the regimen which does good in one way does  harm in another; and we can hardly say that any one course of treatment  is adapted to a particular constitution.

 

Now the gymnasia and common meals do a great deal of good, and yet they  are a source of evil in civil troubles; as is shown in the case of the  Milesian, and Boeotian, and Thurian youth, among whom these institutions  seem always to have had a tendency to degrade the ancient and natural  custom of love below the level, not only of man, but of the beasts. The  charge may be fairly brought against your cities above all others, and  is true also of most other states which especially cultivate gymnastics.  Whether such matters are to be regarded jestingly or seriously, I think  that the pleasure is to be deemed natural which arises out of the  intercourse between men and women; but that the intercourse of men with  men, or of women with women, is contrary to nature, and that the bold  attempt was originally due to unbridled lust. The Cretans are always  accused of having invented the story of Ganymede and Zeus because they  wanted to justify themselves in the enjoyment of unnatural pleasures by  the practice of the god whom they believe to have been their lawgiver.  Leaving the story, we may observe that any speculation about laws turns  almost entirely on pleasure and pain, both in states and in individuals:  these are two fountains which nature lets flow, and he who draws from  them where and when, and as much as he ought, is happy; and this holds  of men and animals — of individuals as well as states; and he who  indulges in them ignorantly and at the wrong time, is the reverse of  happy.

 

Meg. I admit, Stranger, that your words are well spoken, and I hardly  know what to say in answer to you; but still I think that the Spartan  lawgiver was quite right in forbidding pleasure. Of the Cretan laws, I  shall leave the defence to my Cnosian friend. But the laws of Sparta, in  as far as they relate to pleasure, appear to me to be the best in the  world; for that which leads mankind in general into the wildest pleasure  and licence, and every other folly, the law has clean driven out; and  neither in the country nor in towns which are under the control of  Sparta, will you find revelries and the many incitements of every kind  of pleasure which accompany them; and any one who meets a drunken and  disorderly person, will immediately have him most severely punished, and  will not let him off on any pretence, not even at the time of a  Dionysiac festival; although I have remarked that this may happen at  your performances “on the cart,” as they are called; and among our  Tarentine colonists I have seen the whole city drunk at a Dionysiac  festival; but nothing of the sort happens among us.

 

Ath. O Lacedaemonian Stranger, these festivities are praiseworthy where  there is a spirit of endurance, but are very senseless when they are  under no regulations. In order to retaliate, an Athenian has only to  point out the licence which exists among your women. To all such  accusations, whether they are brought against the Tarentines, or us, or  you, there is one answer which exonerates the practice in question from  impropriety. When a stranger expresses wonder at the singularity of what  he sees, any inhabitant will naturally answer him: Wonder not, O  stranger; this is our custom, and you may very likely have some other  custom about the same things. Now we are speaking, my friends, not about  men in general, but about the merits and defects of the lawgivers  themselves. Let us then discourse a little more at length about  intoxication, which is a very important subject, and will seriously task  the discrimination of the legislator.

 

I am not speaking of drinking, or not drinking, wine at all, but of  intoxication. Are we to follow the custom of the Scythians, and  Persians, and Carthaginians, and Celts, and Iberians, and Thracians, who  are all warlike nations, or that of your countrymen, for they, as you  say, altogether abstain? But the Scythians and Thracians, both men and  women, drink unmixed wine, which they pour on their garments, and this  they think a happy and glorious institution. The Persians, again, are  much given to other practices of luxury which you reject, but they have  more moderation in them than the Thracians and Scythians.

 

Meg. O best of men, we have only to take arms into our hands, and we  send all these nations flying before us.

 

Ath. Nay, my good friend, do not say that; there have been, as there  always will be, flights and pursuits of which no account can be given,  and therefore we cannot say that victory or defeat in battle affords  more than a doubtful proof of the goodness or badness of institutions.  For when the greater states conquer and enslave the lesser, as the  Syracusans have done the Locrians, who appear to be the best-governed  people in their part of the world, or as the Athenians have done the  Ceans (and there are ten thousand other instances of the same sort of  thing), all this is not to the point; let us endeavour rather to form a  conclusion about each institution in itself and say nothing, at present,  of victories and defeats. Let us only say that such and such a custom is  honourable, and another not. And first permit me to tell you how good  and bad are to be estimated in reference to these very matters.

 

Meg. How do you mean?

 

Ath. All those who are ready at a moment’s notice to praise or censure  any practice which is matter of discussion, seem to me to proceed in a  wrong way. Let me give you an illustration of what I mean: You may  suppose a person to be praising wheat as a good kind of food, whereupon  another person instantly blames wheat, without ever enquiring into its  effect or use, or in what way, or to whom, or with what, or in what  state and how, wheat is to be given. And that is just what we are doing  in this discussion. At the very mention of the word intoxication, one  side is ready with their praises and the other with their censures;  which is absurd. For either side adduce their witnesses and approvers,  and some of us think that we speak with authority because we have many  witnesses; and others because they see those who abstain conquering in  battle, and this again is disputed by us. Now I cannot say that I shall  be satisfied, if we go on discussing each of the remaining laws in the  same way. And about this very point of intoxication I should like to  speak in another way, which I hold to be the right one; for if number is  to be the criterion, are there not myriads upon myriads of nations ready  to dispute the point with you, who are only two cities?

 

Meg. I shall gladly welcome any method of enquiry which is right.

 

Ath. Let me put the matter thus: Suppose a person to praise the keeping  of goats, and the creatures themselves as capital things to have, and  then some one who had seen goats feeding without a goatherd in  cultivated spots, and doing mischief, were to censure a goat or any  other animal who has no keeper, or a bad keeper, would there be any  sense or justice in such censure?

 

Meg. Certainly not.

 

Ath. Does a captain require only to have nautical knowledge in order to  be a good captain, whether he is sea-sick or not? What do you say?

 

Meg. I say that he is not a good captain if, although he have nautical  skill, he is liable to sea-sickness.

 

Ath. And what would you say of the commander of an army? Will he be able  to command merely because he has military skill if he be a coward, who,  when danger comes, is sick and drunk with fear?

 

Meg. Impossible.

 

Ath. And what if besides being a coward he has no skill?

 

Meg. He is a miserable fellow, not fit to be a commander of men, but  only of old women.

 

Ath. And what would you say of some one who blames or praises any sort  of meeting which is intended by nature to have a ruler, and is well  enough when under his presidency? The critic, however, has never seen  the society meeting together at an orderly feast under the control of a  president, but always without a ruler or with a bad one: when observers  of this class praise or blame such meetings, are we to suppose that what  they say is of any value?

 

Meg. Certainly not, if they have never seen or been present at such a  meeting when rightly ordered.

 

Ath. Reflect; may not banqueters and banquets be said to constitute a  kind of meeting?

 

Meg. Of course.

 

Ath. And did any one ever see this sort of convivial meeting rightly  ordered? Of course you two will answer that you have never seen them at  all, because they are not customary or lawful in your country; but I  have come across many of them in many different places, and moreover I  have made enquiries about them wherever I went, as I may say, and never  did I see or hear of anything of the kind which was carried on  altogether rightly; in some few particulars they might be right, but in  general they were utterly wrong.

 

Cle. What do you mean, Stranger, by this remark? Explain; For we, as you  say, from our inexperience in such matters, might very likely not know,  even if they came in our way, what was right or wrong in such societies.

 

Ath. Likely enough; then let me try to be your instructor: You would  acknowledge, would you not, that in all gatherings of man, kind, of  whatever sort, there ought to be a leader?

 

Cle. Certainly I should.

 

Ath. And we were saying just now, that when men are at war the leader  ought to be a brave man?

 

Cle. We were.

 

Ath. The brave man is less likely than the coward to be disturbed by  fears?

 

Cle. That again is true.

 

Ath. And if there were a possibility of having a general of an army who  was absolutely fearless and imperturbable, should we not by all means  appoint him?

 

Cle. Assuredly.

 

Ath. Now, however, we are speaking not of a general who is to command an  army, when foe meets foe in time of war, but of one who is to regulate  meetings of another sort, when friend meets friend in time of peace.

 

Cle. True.

 

Ath. And that sort of meeting, if attended with drunkenness, is apt to  be unquiet.

 

Cle. Certainly; the reverse of quiet.

 

Ath. In the first place, then, the revellers as well as the soldiers  will require a ruler?

 

Cle. To be sure; no men more so.

 

Ath. And we ought, if possible, to provide them with a quiet ruler?

 

Cle. Of course.

 

Ath. And he should be a man who understands society; for his duty is to  preserve the friendly feelings which exist among the company at the  time, and to increase them for the future by his use of the occasion.

 

Cle. Very true.

 

Ath. Must we not appoint a sober man and a wise to be our master of the  revels? For if the ruler of drinkers be himself young and drunken, and  not over-wise, only by some special good fortune will he be saved from  doing some great evil.

 

Cle. It will be by a singular good fortune that he is saved.

 

Ath. Now suppose such associations to be framed in the best way possible  in states, and that some one blames the very fact of their existence —  he may very likely be right. But if he blames a practice which he only  sees very much mismanaged, he shows in the first place that he is not  aware of the mismanagement, and also not aware that everything done in  this way will turn out to be wrong, because done without the  superintendence of a sober ruler. Do you not see that a drunken pilot or  a drunken ruler of any sort will ruin ship, chariot, army — anything, in  short, of which he has the direction?

 

Cle. The last remark is very true, Stranger; and I see quite clearly the  advantage of an army having a good leader — he will give victory in war  to his followers, which is a very great advantage; and so of other  things. But I do not see any similar advantage which either individuals  or states gain from the good management of a feast; and I want you to  tell me what great good will be effected, supposing that this drinking  ordinance is duly established.

 

Ath. If you mean to ask what great good accrues to the state from the  right training of a single youth, or of a single chorus — when the  question is put in that form, we cannot deny that the good is not very  great in any particular instance. But if you ask what is the good of  education in general, the answer is easy — that education makes good  men, and that good men act nobly, and conquer their enemies in battle,  because they are good. Education certainly gives victory, although  victory sometimes produces forgetfulness of education; for many have  grown insolent from victory in war, and this insolence has engendered in  them innumerable evils; and many a victory has been and will be suicidal  to the victors; but education is never suicidal.

 

Cle. You seem to imply, my friend, that convivial meetings, when rightly  ordered, are an important element of education.

 

Ath. Certainly I do.

 

Cle. And can you show that what you have been saying is true?

 

Ath. To be absolutely sure of the truth of matters concerning which  there are many opinions, is an attribute of the Gods not given to man,  Stranger; but I shall be very happy to tell you what I think, especially  as we are now proposing to enter on a discussion concerning laws and  constitutions.

 

Cle. Your opinion, Stranger, about the questions which are now being  raised, is precisely what we want to hear.

 

Ath. Very good; I will try to find a way of explaining my meaning, and  you shall try to have the gift of understanding me. But first let me  make an apology. The Athenian citizen is reputed among all the Hellenes  to be a great talker, whereas Sparta is renowned for brevity, and the  Cretans have more wit than words. Now I am afraid of appearing to elicit  a very long discourse out of very small materials. For drinking indeed  may appear to be a slight matter, and yet is one which cannot be rightly  ordered according to nature, without correct principles of music; these  are necessary to any clear or satisfactory treatment of the subject, and  music again runs up into education generally, and there is much to be  said about all this.

 

What would you say then to leaving these matters for the present, and  passing on to some other question of law?

 

Meg. O Athenian Stranger, let me tell you what perhaps you do not know,  that our family is the proxenus of your state. I imagine that from their  earliest youth all boys, when they are told that they are the proxeni of  a particular state, feel kindly towards their second and this has  certainly been my own feeling. I can well remember from the days of my  boyhood, how, when any Lacedaemonians praised or blamed the Athenians,  they used to say to me — “See, Megillus, how ill or how well,” as the  case might be, “has your state treated us”; and having always had to  fight your battles against detractors when I heard you assailed, I  became warmly attached to you. And I always like to hear the Athenian  tongue spoken; the common saying is quite true, that a good Athenian is  more than ordinarily good, for he is the only man who is freely and  genuinely good by the divine inspiration of his own nature, and is not  manufactured. Therefore be assured that I shall like to hear you say  whatever you have to say.

 

Cle. Yes, Stranger; and when you have heard me speak, say boldly what is  in your thoughts. Let me remind you of a tie which unites you to Crete.  You must have heard here the story of the prophet Epimenides, who was of  my family, and came to Athens ten years before the Persian war, in  accordance with the response of the Oracle, and offered certain  sacrifices which the God commanded.

 

The Athenians were at that time in dread of the Persian invasion; and he  said that for ten years they would not come, and that when they came,  they would go away again without accomplishing any of their objects, and  would suffer more evil than they inflicted. At that time my forefathers  formed ties of hospitality with you; thus ancient is the friendship  which I and my parents have had for you.

 

Ath. You seem to be quite ready to listen; and I am also ready to  perform as much as I can of an almost impossible task, which I will  nevertheless attempt. At the outset of the discussion, let me define the  nature and power of education; for this is the way by which our argument  must travel onwards to the God Dionysus.

 

Cle. Let us proceed, if you please.

 

Ath. Well, then, if I tell you what are my notions of education, will  you consider whether they satisfy you?

 

Cle. Let us hear.

 

Ath. According to my view, any one who would be good at anything must  practise that thing from his youth upwards, both in sport and earnest,  in its several branches: for example, he who is to be a good builder,  should play at building children’s houses; he who is to be a good  husbandman, at tilling the ground; and those who have the care of their  education should provide them when young with mimic tools. They should  learn beforehand the knowledge which they will afterwards require for  their art. For example, the future carpenter should learn to measure or  apply the line in play; and the future warrior should learn riding, or  some other exercise, for amusement, and the teacher should endeavour to  direct the children’s inclinations and pleasures, by the help of  amusements, to their final aim in life. The most important part of  education is right training in the nursery. The soul of the child in his  play should be guided to the love of that sort of excellence in which  when he grows up to manhood he will have to be perfected. Do you agree  with me thus far?

 

Cle. Certainly.

 

Ath. Then let us not leave the meaning of education ambiguous or  illdefined. At present, when we speak in terms of praise or blame about  the bringing-up of each person, we call one man educated and another  uneducated, although the uneducated man may be sometimes very well  educated for the calling of a retail trader, or of a captain of a ship,  and the like. For we are not speaking of education in this narrower  sense, but of that other education in virtue from youth upwards, which  makes a man eagerly pursue the ideal perfection of citizenship, and  teaches him how rightly to rule and how to obey. This is the only  education which, upon our view, deserves the name; that other sort of  training, which aims at the acquisition of wealth or bodily strength, or  mere cleverness apart from intelligence and justice, is mean and  illiberal, and is not worthy to be called education at all. But let us  not quarrel with one another about a word, provided that the proposition  which has just been granted hold good: to wit, that those who are  rightly educated generally become good men. Neither must we cast a  slight upon education, which is the first and fairest thing that the  best of men can ever have, and which, though liable to take a wrong  direction, is capable of reformation. And this work of reformation is  the great business of every man while he lives.

 

Cle. Very true; and we entirely agree with you.

 

Ath. And we agreed before that they are good men who are able to rule  themselves, and bad men who are not.

 

Cle. You are quite right.

 

Ath. Let me now proceed, if I can, to clear up the subject a little  further by an illustration which I will offer you.

 

Cle. Proceed.

 

Ath. Do we not consider each of ourselves to be one?

 

Cle. We do.

 

Ath. And each one of us has in his bosom two counsellors, both foolish  and also antagonistic; of which we call the one pleasure, and the other  pain.

 

Cle. Exactly.

 

Ath. Also there are opinions about the future, which have the general  name of expectations; and the specific name of fear, when the  expectation is of pain; and of hope, when of pleasure; and further,  there is reflection about the good or evil of them, and this, when  embodied in a decree by the State, is called Law.

 

Cle. I am hardly able to follow you; proceed, however, as if I were.

 

Meg. I am in the like case.

 

Ath. Let us look at the matter thus: May we not conceive each of us  living beings to be a puppet of the Gods, either their plaything only,  or created with a purpose — which of the two we cannot certainly know?  But we do know, that these affections in us are like cords and strings,  which pull us different and opposite ways, and to opposite actions; and  herein lies the difference between virtue and vice. According to the  argument there is one among these cords which every man ought to grasp  and never let go, but to pull with it against all the rest; and this is  the sacred and golden cord of reason, called by us the common law of the  State; there are others which are hard and of iron, but this one is soft  because golden; and there are several other kinds. Now we ought always  to cooperate with the lead of the best, which is law. For inasmuch as  reason is beautiful and gentle, and not violent, her rule must needs  have ministers in order to help the golden principle in vanquishing the  other principles. And thus the moral of the tale about our being puppets  will not have been lost, and the meaning of the expression “superior or  inferior to a man’s self” will become clearer; and the individual,  attaining to right reason in this matter of pulling the strings of the  puppet, should live according to its rule; while the city, receiving the  same from some god or from one who has knowledge of these things, should  embody it in a law, to be her guide in her dealings with herself and  with other states. In this way virtue and vice will be more clearly  distinguished by us. And when they have become clearer, education and  other institutions will in like manner become clearer; and in particular  that question of convivial entertainment, which may seem, perhaps, to  have been a very trifling matter, and to have taken a great many more  words than were necessary.

 

Cle. Perhaps, however, the theme may turn out not to be unworthy of the  length of discourse.

 

Ath. Very good; let us proceed with any enquiry which really bears on  our present object.

 

Cle. Proceed.

 

Ath. Suppose that we give this puppet of ours drink — what will be the  effect on him?

 

Cle. Having what in view do you ask that question?

 

Ath. Nothing as yet; but I ask generally, when the puppet is brought to  the drink, what sort of result is likely to follow. I will endeavour to  explain my meaning more clearly: what I am now asking is thisDoes the  drinking of wine heighten and increase pleasures and pains, and passions  and loves?

 

Cle. Very greatly.

 

Ath. And are perception and memory, and opinion and prudence, heightened  and increased? Do not these qualities entirely desert a man if he  becomes saturated with drink?

 

Cle. Yes, they entirely desert him.

 

Ath. Does he not return to the state of soul in which he was when a  young child?

 

Cle. He does.

 

Ath. Then at that time he will have the least control over himself?

 

Cle. The least.

 

Ath. And will he not be in a most wretched plight?

 

Cle. Most wretched.

 

Ath. Then not only an old man but also a drunkard becomes a second time  a child?

 

Cle. Well said, Stranger.

 

Ath. Is there any argument which will prove to us that we ought to  encourage the taste for drinking instead of doing all we can to avoid  it?

 

Cle. I suppose that there is; you at any rate, were just now saying that  you were ready to maintain such a doctrine.

 

Ath. True, I was; and I am ready still, seeing that you have both  declared that you are anxious to hear me.

 

Cle. To sure we are, if only for the strangeness of the paradox, which  asserts that a man ought of his own accord to plunge into utter  degradation.

 

Ath. Are you speaking of the soul?

 

Cle. Yes.

 

Ath. And what would you say about the body, my friend? Are you not  surprised at any one of his own accord bringing upon himself deformity,  leanness, ugliness, decrepitude?

 

Cle. Certainly.

 

Ath. Yet when a man goes of his own accord to a doctor’s shop, and takes  medicine, is he not aware that soon, and for many days afterwards, he  will be in a state of body which he would die rather than accept as the  permanent condition of his life? Are not those who train in gymnasia, at  first beginning reduced to a state of weakness?

 

Cle. Yes, all that is well known.

 

Ath. Also that they go of their own accord for the sake of the  subsequent benefit?

 

Cle. Very good.

 

Ath. And we may conceive this to be true in the same way of other  practices?

 

Cle. Certainly.

 

Ath. And the same view may be taken of the pastime of drinking wine, if  we are right in supposing that the same good effect follows?

 

Cle. To be sure.

 

Ath. If such convivialities should turn out to have any advantage equal  in importance to that of gymnastic, they are in their very nature to be  preferred to mere bodily exercise, inasmuch as they have no  accompaniment of pain.

 

Cle. True; but I hardly think that we shall be able to discover any such  benefits to be derived from them.

 

Ath. That is just what we must endeavour to show. And let me ask you a  question: Do we not distinguish two kinds of fear, which are very  different?

 

Cle. What are they?

 

Ath. There is the fear of expected evil.

 

Cle. Yes.

 

Ath. And there is the fear of an evil reputation; we are afraid of being  thought evil, because we do or say some dishonourable thing, which fear  we and all men term shame.

 

Cle. Certainly.

 

Ath. These are the two fears, as I called them; one of which is the  opposite of pain and other fears, and the opposite also of the greatest  and most numerous sort of pleasures.

 

Cle. Very true.

 

Ath. And does not the legislator and every one who is good for anything,  hold this fear in the greatest honour? This is what he terms reverence,  and the confidence which is the reverse of this he terms insolence; and  the latter he always deems to be a very great evil both to individuals  and to states.

 

Cle. True.

 

Ath. Does not this kind of fear preserve us in many important ways? What  is there which so surely gives victory and safety in war? For there are  two things which give victory — confidence before enemies, and fear of  disgrace before friends.

 

Cle. There are.

 

Ath. Then each of us should be fearless and also fearful; and why we  should be either has now been determined.

 

Cle. Certainly.

 

Ath. And when we want to make any one fearless, we and the law bring him  face to face with many fears.

 

Cle. Clearly.

 

Ath. And when we want to make him rightly fearful, must we not introduce  him to shameless pleasures, and train him to take up arms against them,  and to overcome them? Or does this principle apply to courage only, and  must he who would be perfect in valour fight against and overcome his  own natural character — since if he be unpractised and inexperienced in  such conflicts, he will not be half the man which he might have been —  and are we to suppose, that with temperance it is otherwise, and that he  who has never fought with the shameless and unrighteous temptations of  his pleasures and lusts, and conquered them, in earnest and in play, by  word, deed, and act, will still be perfectly temperate?

 

Cle. A most unlikely supposition.

 

Ath. Suppose that some God had given a fear-potion to men, and that the  more a man drank of this the more he regarded himself at every draught  as a child of misfortune, and that he feared everything happening or  about to happen to him; and that at last the most courageous of men  utterly lost his presence of mind for a time, and only came to himself  again when he had slept off the influence of the draught.

 

Cle. But has such a draught, Stranger, ever really been known among men?

 

Ath. No; but, if there had been, might not such a draught have been of  use to the legislator as a test of courage? Might we not go and say to  him, “O legislator, whether you are legislating for the Cretan, or for  any other state, would you not like to have a touchstone of the courage  and cowardice of your citizens?”

 

Cle. “I should,” will be the answer of every one.

 

Ath. “And you would rather have a touchstone in which there is no risk  and no great danger than the reverse?”

 

Cle. In that proposition every one may safely agree.

 

Ath. “And in order to make use of the draught, you would lead them amid  these imaginary terrors, and prove them, when the affection of fear was  working upon them, and compel them to be fearless, exhorting and  admonishing them; and also honouring them, but dishonouring any one who  will not be persuaded by you to be in all respects such as you command  him; and if he underwent the trial well and manfully, you would let him  go unscathed; but if ill, you would inflict a punishment upon him? Or  would you abstain from using the potion altogether, although you have no  reason for abstaining?”

 

Cle. He would be certain, Stranger, to use the potion.

 

Ath. This would be a mode of testing and training which would be  wonderfully easy in comparison with those now in use, and might be  applied to a single person, or to a few, or indeed to any number; and he  would do well who provided himself with the potion only, rather than  with any number of other things, whether he preferred to be by himself  in solitude, and there contend with his fears, because he was ashamed to  be seen by the eye of man until he was perfect; or trusting to the force  of his own nature and habits, and believing that he had been already  disciplined sufficiently, he did not hesitate to train himself in  company with any number of others, and display his power in conquering  the irresistible change effected by the draught — his virtue being such,  that he never in any instance fell into any great unseemliness, but was  always himself, and left off before he arrived at the last cup, fearing  that he, like all other men, might be overcome by the potion.

 

Cle. Yes, Stranger, in that last case, too, he might equally show his  selfcontrol.

 

Ath. Let us return to the lawgiver, and say to him:

 

“Well, lawgiver, there is certainly no such fear-potion which man has  either received from the Gods or himself discovered; for witchcraft has  no place at our board. But is there any potion which might serve as a  test of overboldness and excessive and indiscreet boasting?"

 

Cle. I suppose that he will say, Yes — meaning that wine is such a  potion.

 

Ath. Is not the effect of this quite the opposite of the effect of the  other? When a man drinks wine he begins to be better pleased with  himself, and the more he drinks the more he is filled full of brave  hopes, and conceit of his power, and at last the string of his tongue is  loosened, and fancying himself wise, he is brimming over with  lawlessness, and has no more fear or respect, and is ready to do or say  anything.

 

Cle. I think that every one will admit the truth of your description.

 

Meg. Certainly.

 

Ath. Now, let us remember, as we were saying, that there are two things  which should be cultivated in the soul: first, the greatest courage;  secondly, the greatest fear.

 

Cle. Which you said to be characteristic of reverence, if I am not  mistaken.

 

Ath. Thank you for reminding me. But now, as the habit of courage and  fearlessness is to be trained amid fears, let us consider whether the  opposite quality is not also to be trained among opposites.

 

Cle. That is probably the case.

 

Ath. There are times and seasons at which we are by nature more than  commonly valiant and bold; now we ought to train ourselves on these  occasions to be as free from impudence and shamelessness as possible,  and to be afraid to say or suffer or do anything that is base.

 

Cle. True.

 

Ath. Are not the moments in which we are apt to be bold and shameless  such as these? — when we are under the influence of anger, love, pride,  ignorance, avarice, cowardice? or when wealth, beauty, strength, and all  the intoxicating workings of pleasure madden us? What is better adapted  than the festive use of wine, in the first place to test, and in the  second place to train the character of a man, if care be taken in the  use of it? What is there cheaper, or more innocent? For do but consider  which is the greater risk: Would you rather test a man of a morose and  savage nature, which is the source of ten thousand acts of injustice, by  making bargains with him at a risk to yourself, or by having him as a  companion at the festival of Dionysus? Or would you, if you wanted to  apply a touchstone to a man who is prone to love, entrust your wife, or  your sons, or daughters to him, perilling your dearest interests in