Republic (6.494-6.496)

Bearing all this in mind, recall our former question. Can the multitude possibly tolerate or believe in the reality of the beautiful in itself as opposed to the multiplicity of beautiful things, or can they believe in anything conceived in its essence as opposed to the many particulars?Not in the least, he said. Philosophy, then, the love of wisdom, is impossible for the multitude.[*] Impossible. It is inevitable,[*] then, that those who philosophize should be censured by them. Inevitable. And so likewise by those laymen who, associating with the mob, desire to curry favor[*] with it. Obviously. From this point of view do you see any salvation that will suffer the born philosopher to abide in the pursuit and persevere to the end? Consider it in the light of what we said before. We agreed[*] that quickness in learning, memory, courage and magnificence were the traits of this nature. Yes. Then even as a boy[*] among boys such a one will take the lead in all things, especially if the nature of his body matches the soul. How could he fail to do so? he said. His kinsmen and fellow-citizens, then, will desire, I presume, to make use of him when he is older for their own affairs. Of course. Then they will fawn[*] upon him with petitions and honors, anticipating[*] and flattering the power that will be his. That certainly is the usual way. How, then, do you think such a youth will behave in such conditions, especially if it happen that he belongs to a great city and is rich and well-born therein, and thereto handsome and tall? Will his soul not be filled with unbounded ambitious hopes,[*] and will he not think himself capable of managing the affairs of both Greeks and barbarians,[*] and thereupon exalt himself, haughty of mien and stuffed with empty pride and void of sense[*] He surely will, he said. And if to a man in this state of mind[*] someone gently[*] comes and tells him what is the truth, that he has no sense and sorely needs it, and that the only way to get it is to work like a slave[*] to win it, do you think it will be easy for him to lend an ear[*] to the quiet voice in the midst of and in spite of these evil surroundings[*] Far from it, said he. And even supposing, said I, that owing to a fortunate disposition and his affinity for the words of admonition one such youth apprehends something and is moved and drawn towards philosophy, what do we suppose will be the conduct of those who think that they are losing his service and fellowship? Is there any word or deed that they will stick at[*] to keep him from being persuaded and to incapacitate anyone who attempts it,[*] both by private intrigue and public prosecution in the court?

That is inevitable, he said. Is there any possibility of such a one continuing to philosophize? None at all, he said. Do you see, then, said I, that we were not wrong in saying that the very qualities that make up the philosophical nature do, in fact, become, when the environment and nurture are bad, in some sort the cause of its backsliding,[*] and so do the so-called goods—[*] riches and all such instrumentalities[*]? No, he replied, it was rightly said. Such, my good friend, and so great as regards the noblest pursuit, is the destruction and corruption[*] of the most excellent nature, which is rare enough in any case,[*] as we affirm. And it is from men of this type that those spring who do the greatest harm to communities and individuals, and the greatest good when the stream chances to be turned into that channel,[*] but a small nature[*] never does anything great to a man or a city. Most true, said he. Those, then, to whom she properly belongs, thus falling away and leaving philosophy forlorn and unwedded, themselves live an unreal and alien life, while other unworthy wooers[*] rush in and defile her as an orphan bereft of her kin,[*] and attach to her such reproaches as you say her revilers taunt her with, declaring that some of her consorts are of no account and the many accountable for many evils. Why, yes, he replied, that is what they do say. And plausibly, said I; for other mannikins, observing that the place is unoccupied and full of fine terms and pretensions, just as men escape from prison to take sanctuary in temples, so these gentlemen joyously bound away from the mechanical[*] arts to philosophy, those that are most cunning in their little craft.[*] For in comparison with the other arts the prestige of philosophy even in her present low estate retains a superior dignity; and this is the ambition and aspiration of that multitude of pretenders unfit by nature, whose souls are bowed and mutilated[*] by their vulgar occupations[*] even as their bodies are marred by their arts and crafts. Is not that inevitable? Quite so, he said. Is not the picture which they present, I said, precisely that of a little bald-headed tinker[*] who has made money and just been freed from bonds and had a bath and is wearing a new garment and has got himself up like a bridegroom and is about to marry his master’s daughter who has fallen into poverty and abandonment?

There is no difference at all, he said. Of what sort will probably be the offspring of such parents? Will they not be bastard[*] and base? Inevitably. And so when men unfit for culture approach philosophy and consort with her unworthily, what sort of ideas and opinions shall we say they beget? Will they not produce what may in very deed be fairly called sophisms, and nothing that is genuine or that partakes of true intelligence[*]? Quite so, he said. There is a very small remnant,[*] then, Adeimantus, I said, of those who consort worthily with philosophy, some well-born and well-bred nature, it may be, held in check[*] by exile,[*] and so in the absence of corrupters remaining true to philosophy, as its quality bids, or it may happen that a great soul born in a little town scorns[*] and disregards its parochial affairs; and a small group perhaps might by natural affinity be drawn to it from other arts which they justly disdain; and the bridle of our companion Theages[*] also might operate as a restraint. For in the case of Theages all other conditions were at hand for his backsliding from philosophy, but his sickly habit of body keeping him out of politics holds him back. My own case, the divine sign,[*] is hardly worth mentioning—for I suppose it has happened to few or none before me. And those who have been of this little company[*] and have tasted the sweetness and blessedness of this possession and who have also come to understand the madness of the multitude sufficiently and have seen that there is nothing, if I may say so, sound or right in any present politics,[*] and that there is no ally with whose aid the champion of justice[*] could escape destruction, but that he would be as a man who has fallen among wild beasts,[*] unwilling to share their misdeeds[*] and unable to hold out singly against the savagery of all, and that he would thus, before he could in any way benefit his friends or the state come to an untimely end without doing any good to himself or others,—for all these reasons I say the philosopher remains quiet, minds his own affair, and, as it were, standing aside under shelter of a wall[*] in a storm and blast of dust and sleet and seeing others filled full of lawlessness, is content if in any way he may keep himself free from iniquity and unholy deeds through this life and take his departure with fair hope,[*] serene and well content when the end comes.