Alcibiades 1 (133-135)

Soc. And have you observed that the face of the person who looks into another’s eye is shown in the optic confronting him, as in a mirror, and we call this the pupil, [*] for in a sort it is an image of the person looking?

Alc. That is true.

Soc. Then an eye viewing another eye, and looking at the most perfect part of it, the thing wherewith it sees, will thus see itself.

Alc. Apparently.

Soc. But if it looks at any other thing in man or at anything in nature but what resembles this, [*] it will not see itself.

Alc. That is true.

Soc. Then if an eye is to see itself, it must look at an eye, and at that region of the eye in which the virtue of an eye is found to occur; and this, I presume, is sight.

Alc. That is so.

Soc. And if the soul too, my dear Alcibiades, is to know herself, she must surely look at a soul, and especially at that region of it in which occurs the virtue of a soul—wisdom, and at any other part of a soul which resembles this?

Alc. I agree, Socrates.

Soc. And can we find any part of the soul that we can call more divine than this, which is the seat of knowledge and thought?

Alc. We cannot.

Soc. Then this part of her resembles God, and whoever looks at this, and comes to know all that is divine, will gain thereby the best knowledge of himself.

Alc. Apparently.

Soc. And self-knowledge we admitted to be temperance. [*]

Alc. To be sure.

Soc. So if we have no knowledge of ourselves and no temperance, shall we be able to know our own belongings, good or evil?

Alc. How can that be, Socrates?

Soc. For I expect it seems impossible to you that without knowing Alcibiades you should know that the belongings of Alcibiades are in fact his.

Alc. Impossible indeed, upon my word.

Soc. Nor could we know that our belongings are ours if we did not even know ourselves?

Alc. How could we?

Soc. And so, if we did not so much as know our belongings, we could not know the belongings of our belongings either?

Alc. Apparently not.

Soc. Then we were not quite correct in admitting just now that there are people who, without knowing themselves, know their belongings, while others know their belongings’ belongings. For it seems to be the function of one man and one art to discern all three— himself, his belongings, and the belongings of his belongings.

Alc. It looks like it.

Soc. And anyone who is ignorant of his belongings will be similarly ignorant, I suppose, of the belongings of others.

Alc. Quite so.

Soc. And if ignorant of others’ affairs, he will be ignorant also of the affairs of states.

Alc. He must be.

Soc. Then such a man can never be a statesman.

Alc. No, indeed.

Soc. No, nor an economist either.

Alc. No, indeed.

Soc. Nor will he know what he is doing.

Alc. No, I agree.

Soc. And will not he who does not know make mistakes?

Alc. To be sure.

Soc. And when he makes mistakes, will he not do ill both in private and in public?

Alc. Of course.

Soc. And doing ill he will be wretched?

Alc. Yes, very.

Soc. And what of those for whom he is doing so?

Alc. They will be wretched also.

Soc. Then it is impossible to be happy if one is not temperate and good.

Alc. Impossible.

Soc. So it is the bad men who are wretched.

Alc. Yes, very.

Soc. And hence it is not he who has made himself rich that is relieved of wretchedness, but he who has made himself temperate.

Alc. Apparently.

Soc. So it is not walls or warships or arsenals that cities need, Alcibiades, if they are to be happy, nor numbers, nor size, without virtue.

Alc. No, indeed.

Soc. And if you are to manage the city’s affairs properly and honorably, you must impart virtue to the citizens.

Alc. Of course.

Soc. But could one possibly impart a thing that one had not?

Alc. How, indeed?

Soc. Then you or anyone else who is to be governor and curator, not merely of himself and his belongings in private, but of the state and its affairs, must first acquire virtue himself.

Alc. That is true.

Soc. Hence it is not licence or authority for doing what one pleases that you have to secure to yourself or the state, but justice and temperance.

Alc. Apparently.

Soc. For you and the state, if you act justly and temperately, will act so as to please God.

Alc. Naturally.

Soc. And, as we were saying in what went before, you will act with your eyes turned on what is divine and bright.

Alc. Apparently.

Soc. Well, and looking thereon you will behold and know both yourselves and your good.

Alc. Yes.

Soc. And so you will act aright and well?

Alc. Yes.

Soc. Well now, if you act in this way, I am ready to warrant that you must be happy.

Alc. And I can rely on your warranty.

Soc. But if you act unjustly, with your eyes on the godless and dark, the probability is that your acts will resemble these through your ignorance of yourselves.

Alc. That is probable.

Soc. For if a man, my dear Alcibiades, is at liberty to do what he pleases, but is lacking in mind, what is the probable result to him personally, or to the state as well? For instance, if he is sick and at liberty to do what he pleases—without a medical mind, but with a despot’s power which prevents anyone from even reproving him—what will be the result? Will not his health, in all likelihood, be shattered?

Alc. That is true.

Soc. Again, in a ship, if a man were at liberty to do what he chose, but were devoid of mind and excellence in navigation, do you perceive what must happen to him and his fellow-sailors?

Alc. I do: they must all perish.

Soc. And in just the same way, if a state, or any office or authority, is lacking in excellence or virtue, it will be overtaken by failure?

Alc. It must.

Soc. Then it is not despotic power, my admirable Alcibiades, that you ought to secure either to yourself or to the state, if you would be happy, but virtue.

Alc. That is true.

Soc. And before getting virtue, to be governed by a superior is better than to govern, for a man as well as a child.

Alc. Apparently.

Soc. And the better is also nobler?

Alc. Yes.

Soc. And the nobler more becoming?

Alc. Of course.

Soc. Then it becomes a bad man to be a slave, since it is better.

Alc. Yes.

Soc. So vice is a thing that becomes a slave.

Alc. Apparently.

Soc. And virtue becomes a free man.

Alc. Yes.

Soc. And we should shun, my good friend, all slavishness?

Alc. Most certainly, Socrates.

Soc. And do you now perceive how you stand? Are you on the side of the free, or not?

Alc. I think I perceive only too clearly.

Soc. Then do you know how you may escape from the condition in which you now find yourself? Let us not give it a name, where a handsome person is concerned!

Alc. I do.

Soc. How?

Alc. If it be your wish, Socrates.

Soc. That is not well said, Alcibiades.

Alc. Well, what should I say?

Soc. If it be God’s will.

Alc. Then I say it. And yet I say this besides, that we are like to make a change in our parts, Socrates, so that I shall have yours and you mine. For from this day onward it must be the case that I am your attendant, and you have me always in attendance on you. [*]

Soc. Ah, generous friend! So my love will be just like a stork; for after hatching a winged love in you it is to be cherished in return by its nestling. [*]

Alc. Well, that is the position, and I shall begin here and now to take pains over justice.

Soc. I should like to think you will continue to do so; yet I am apprehensive, not from any distrust of your nature, but in view of the might of the state, lest it overcome both me and you.