Socrates “Then will you not establish by law in your city such an art of medicine as we have described in conjunction with this kind of justice? And these arts will care for the bodies and souls of such of your citizens as are truly well born, 410a but of those who are not, such as are defective in body they will suffer to die and those who are evil-natured and incurable¹ in soul they will themselves² put to death.” “This certainly,” he said, “has been shown to be the best thing for the sufferers themselves and for the state.” “And so your youths,” said I, “employing that simple music which we said engendered sobriety will, it is clear, guard themselves against falling into the need of the justice of the court-room.” “Yes,” he said. “And will not our musician, pursuing the same trail 410b in his use of gymnastics, if he please, get to have no need of medicine save when indispensable³?” “I think so.” “And even the exercises and toils of gymnastics he will undertake with a view to the spirited part of his nature⁴ to arouse that rather than for mere strength, unlike ordinary athletes, who treat⁵ diet and exercise only as a means to muscle.” “Nothing could be truer,” he said. “Then may we not say, Glaucon,” said I, “that those who established⁶ an education in music and gymnastics 410c had not the purpose in view that some attribute to them in so instituting, namely to treat the body by one and the soul by the other?” “But what?” he said. “It seems likely,” I said, “that they ordained both chiefly for the soul’s sake.” “How so?” “Have you not observed,” said I, “the effect on the disposition of the mind itself⁷ of lifelong devotion to gymnastics with total neglect of music? Or the disposition of those of the opposite habit?” “In what respect do you mean?” he said. 410d “In respect of savagery and hardness or, on the other hand, of softness and gentleness?” “I have observed,” he said, “that the devotees of unmitigated gymnastics turn out more brutal than they should be and those of music softer than is good for them.” “And surely,” said I, “this savagery is a quality derived from the high-spirited element in our nature, which, if rightly trained, becomes brave, but if overstrained, would naturally become hard and harsh.” “I think so,” he said. “And again, is not the gentleness 410e a quality which the philosophic nature would yield? This if relaxed too far would be softer than is desirable but if rightly trained gentle and orderly?” “That is so.” “But our requirement, we say,⁸ is that the guardians should possess both natures.” “It is.” “And must they not be harmoniously adjusted to one another?” “Of course.”

“And the soul of the man thus attuned is sober and brave?” 411a “Certainly.” “And that of the ill adjusted is cowardiy and rude?” “It surely is.”

“Now when a man abandons himself to music to play⁹ upon him and pour¹⁰ into his soul as it were through the funnel of his ears those sweet, soft, and dirge-like airs of which we were just now¹¹ speaking, and gives his entire time to the warblings and blandishments of song, the first result is that the principle of high spirit, if he had it, 411b is softened like iron¹² and is made useful instead of useless and brittle. But when he continues¹³ the practice without remission and is spellbound, the effect begins to be that he melts and liquefies¹⁴ till he completely dissolves away his spirit, cuts out as it were the very sinews of his soul and makes of himself a “feeble warrior.”¹⁵” “Assuredly,” he said. “And if,” said I, “he has to begin with a spiritless¹⁶ nature he reaches this result quickly, but if high-spirited, by weakening the spirit he makes it unstable, 411c quickly irritated by slight stimuli, and as quickly quelled. The outcome is that such men are choleric and irascible instead of high-spirited, and are peevish and discontented.” “Precisely so.” “On the other hand, if a man toils hard at gymnastics and eats right lustily and holds no truck with music and philosophy, does he not at first get very fit and full of pride and high spirit and become more brave and bold than he was?” “He does indeed.” “But what if he does nothing but this and has no contact with the Muse in any way, 411d is not the result that even if there was some principle of the love of knowledge in his soul, since it tastes of no instruction nor of any inquiry and does not participate in any discussion or any other form of culture, it becomes feeble, deaf, and blind, because it is not aroused or fed nor are its perceptions purified and quickened?” “That is so,” he said. “And so such a man, I take it, becomes a misologist¹⁷ and stranger to the Muses. He no longer makes any use of persuasion by speech but achieves all his ends 411e like a beast by violence and savagery, and in his brute ignorance and ineptitude lives a life of disharmony and gracelessness.” “That is entirely true,” he said.

“For these two, then, it seems there are two arts which I would say some god gave to mankind, music and gymnastics for the service of the high-spirited principle and the love of knowledge in them—not for the soul and the body except incidentally, but for the harmonious adjustment of these two principles 412a by the proper degree of tension and relaxation of each.” “Yes, so it appears,” he said. “Then he who best blends gymnastics with music and applies them most suitably to the soul is the man whom we should most rightly pronounce to be the most perfect and harmonious musician, far rather than the one who brings the strings into unison with one another.¹⁸” “That seems likely, Socrates,” he said. “And shall we not also need in our city, Glaucon, a permanent overseer¹⁹ of this kind if its constitution is to be preserved?” 412b “We most certainly shall.”

“Such would be the outlines of their education and breeding. For why²⁰ should one recite the list of the dances of such citizens, their hunts and chases with hounds, their athletic contests and races? It is pretty plain that they must conform to these principles and there is no longer any difficulty in discovering them.” “There is, it may be, no difficulty,” he said. “Very well,” said I; “what, then, have we next to determine? Is it not which ones among them²¹ shall be 412c the rulers and the ruled?” “Certainly.” “That the rulers must be the elder and the ruled the younger is obvious.” “It is.” “And that the rulers must be their best?” “This too.” “And do not the best of the farmers prove the best farmers?” “Yes.” “And in this case, since we want them to be the best of the guardians, must they not be the best guardians, the most regardful of the state?” “Yes.” “They must then to begin with be intelligent in such matters and capable, 412d and furthermore careful²² of the interests of the state?” “That is so.” “But one would be most likely to be careful of that which he loved.” “Necessarily.” “And again, one would be most likely to love that whose interests he supposed to coincide with his own, and thought that when it prospered, he too would prosper and if not, the contrary.” “So it is,” he said. “Then we must pick out from the other guardians such men as to our observation appear most inclined through the entire course of their lives to be zealous to do what they think 412e for the interest of the state, and who would be least likely to consent to do the opposite.” “That would be a suitable choice,” he said. “I think, then, we shall have to observe them at every period of life, to see if they are conservators and guardians of this conviction in their minds and never by sorcery nor by force can be brought to expel²³ from their souls unawares this conviction that they must do what is best for the state.” “What do you mean by the “expelling”?” he said.

“I will tell you,” said I; “it seems to me that the exit of a belief from the mind is either voluntary or involuntary. 413a Voluntary is the departure of the false belief from one who learns better, involuntary that of every true belief.” “The voluntary,” he said, “I understand, but I need instruction about the involuntary.” “How now,” said I, “don’t you agree with me in thinking that men are unwillingly deprived of good things but willingly of evil? Or is it not an evil to be deceived in respect of the truth and a good to possess truth? And don’t you think that to opine the things that are is to possess the truth?” “Why, yes,” said he, “you are right, and I agree that men are unwillingly deprived of true opinions.²⁴” “And doesn’t this happen to them by theft, by the spells of sorcery or by force?” “I don’t understand now either,” he said. “I must be talking in high tragic style,²⁵” I said; 413b “by those who have their opinions stolen from them I mean those who are over-persuaded and those who forget, because in the one case time, in the other argument strips them unawares of their beliefs. Now I presume you understand, do you not?” “Yes.” “Well, then, by those who are constrained or forced I mean those whom some pain or suffering compels²⁶ to change their minds.” “That too I understand and you are right.” “And the victims of sorcery²⁷ 413c I am sure you too would say are they who alter their opinions under the spell of pleasure or terrified by some fear.” “Yes,” he said: “everything that deceives appears to cast a spell upon the mind.”

“Well then, as I was just saying, we must look for those who are the best guardians of the indwelling conviction that what they have to do is what they at any time believe to be best for the state. Then we must observe them from childhood up and propose them tasks in which one would be most likely to forget this principle or be deceived, and he whose memory is sure 413d and who cannot be beguiled we must accept and the other kind we must cross off from our list. Is not that so?” “Yes.” “And again we must subject them to toils and pains and competitions in which we have to watch for the same traits.” “Right,” he said. “Then,” said I, “must we not institute a third kind of competitive test with regard to sorcery and observe them in that? Just as men conduct colts to noises and uproar to see if they are liable to take fright, so we must bring these lads while young into fears 413e and again pass them into pleasures, testing them much more carefully than men do gold in the fire, to see if the man remains immune to such witchcraft and preserves his composure throughout, a good guardian of himself and the culture which he has received, maintaining the true rhythm and harmony of his being in all those conditions, and the character that would make him most useful to himself and to the state.”