Plato's Republic, Book 2 Part 3

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Socrates - ADEIMANTUS

Adeimantus thocht that the enquiry would be a real service tae us.

Then, I said, my dear friend, the task mustnae be gied up, even if it's a wee bit long.

Certainly not.

Come then, and let's pass a bit o' free time tellin' stories, and oor story will be aboot the education o' oor heroes.

By all means.

And whit will their education be? Can we find a better wey than the traditional wey? - And this has twa parts, gymnastics for the body, and music for the soul.

True.

Should we start their education wi' music, and then move on tae gymnastics later?

By all means.

And whan ye speak o' music, dae ye include literature or no?

Aye, I dae.

And literature can either be true or false?

Aye.

And the young ones should be trained in baith kinds, and we begin wi' the false?

I dinnae understand whit ye mean, he said.

Ye ken, I said, that we start by tellin' weans stories that, although they're no entirely made up, are mainly fictional; and we tell them these stories whan they're no auld enough yet tae learn gymnastics.

Very true.

That was whit I meant whan I said that we must teach music before gymnastics.

Quite right, he said.

Ye ken an aa that the beginnin' is the maist important part o' any job, especially in the case o' a young and sensitive bairn; because that's the time whan their character is bein' formed and the impression we want them tae hae is easier for them tae tak in.

Quite true.

And are we just gaun tae let weans hear any random stories that some random person might come up wi', and let them fill their minds wi' ideas that are mostly the complete opposite o' the things we want them tae believe whan they grow up?

We cannae dae that.

Then the first thing will be tae set up a censorship o' the writers o' fiction, and let the censors accept any story o' fiction that's good, and reject the bad yin; and we would want mothers and nurses tae tell their weans only the stories that are approved. Let them shape the bairn's mind wi' these stories, even mair lovingly than they mould the body wi' their hands; but maist o' the stories that are common the noo need tae be thrown oot.

Whit stories are ye talkin' aboot? he said.

We can find a model o' the wee stories in the bigger stories, I said; because they necessarily need tae be the same kind o' story, and they hae the same spirit runnin' through them baith.

Very likely, he replied; but I dinnae yet ken whit ye would consider tae be the bigger stories.

They, I said, are the stories that are telt by Homer and Hesiod, and aw the ither poets, wha hae ever been the great storytellers o' mankind.

But whit stories are ye thinkin' o', he said; and whit fault dae ye find wi' them?

A fault that's real serious, I said; the fault o' tellin' a lee, and whit's even waur, a bad lee.

But whan is this fault committed?

Whit it happens ony time a wrang idea is gien aboot the nature o' gods and heroes - like whan a peenter paints a portrait that disnae look onything like the person it's supposed tae be o'.

Aye, he said, that kind o' thing is certainly somethin' tae blame; but whit are the stories ye mean?

First o' aw, I said, there wis that biggest lee o' aw, up there in the important stories, that the poet telt aboot Uranus, and it wis a bad lie as well - I mean whit Hesiod says that Uranus did, and hoo Cronus got his revenge on him. The things that Cronus did, and the sufferin' that his son then inflicted on him, even if they were true, should absolutely no be telt lichtly tae young and thoughtless folk; if it wis possible, they wid be better aff bein' kept completely silent. But if there is absolutely no choice but tae mention them, then only a very few, chosen fowk micht hear them in a secret ceremony, and they wid need tae sacrifice no yer ordinary [Eleusinian] pig, but some massive and unobtainable beast; and even then, the nummer o' fowk hearin' them wid need tae be really wee.

Aye, weel, he said, those stories are awfy bad.

Aye, Adeimantus, they are stories that shouldnae be repeated in oor State; the young men shouldnae be telt that if they commit the warst crimes, they're no doin' anythin' oot o' the ordinary; and that even if they punish their faither whan he does somethin' wrang, nae matter whit wey they dae it, they'll only be followin' the example o' the first and greatest gods.

I completely agree wi' ye, he said; in my opinion those stories are absolutely unfit tae be repeated.

An aa, if we want oor future guardians tae see arguin' amang themsels as the warst thing o' aw, then we shouldnae say anythin' tae them aboot the wars in heaven, and the plots and fechtin' o' the gods against each ither, because they're no true. No, we should never mention the battles o' the giants, or let them be embroidered on claes; and we shouldnae say anythin' aboot the countless other arguments that gods and heroes hae had wi' their friends and relatives. If only they would believe us, we would tell them that arguin' is unholy, and that there has never been any arguments atween citizens up until this point; this is whit auld men and weemen should start aff by tellin' weans; and whan they grow up, the poets should also be telt tae write things for them in a similar spirit. But the story o' Hephaestus bindin' his mither Hera, or how on another occasion Zeus sent him flyin' for takin' her side whan she wis bein' beat up, and aw the battles o' the gods in Homer - these tales mustnae be allowed intae oor State, whether they're supposed tae hae a hidden meanin' or not. Because a young person cannae judge whit's allegorical and whit's literal; anythin' that they tak intae their mind at that age is likely tae stick wi' them forever and ever; and that's why it's so important that the stories that young fowk hear first should be models o' guid thoughts.

You're right there, he replied; but if someone asks where are these models tae be found and whit stories are ye speakin' aboot - hoo are we gaun tae answer them?

I said tae him, You and me, Adeimantus, at this very moment are no poets, but foonders o' a State: noo the foonders o' a State should ken the general shapes that poets should use for their stories, and the limits that they hae tae stick tae, but makin' up the stories isnae their job.

Very true, he said; but whit are these forms o' religion that ye mean?

Something like this, I said: God should always be shown as he truly is, nae matter whit kind o' poetry it is, epic, lyric, or tragic, that he's bein' written aboot.

That's right.

And isnae he truly guid? And disnae he need tae be shown as that?

Absolutely.

And nae guid thing is harmful?

No, definitely no.

And that which isnae harmful disnae hurt?

Certainly not.

And that which disnae hurt disnae dae ony evil?

No.

And can something that disnae dae ony evil be a cause o' evil?

Impossible.

And the guid thing is beneficial?

Aye.

And therefore the cause o' well-being?

Aye.

It follows then that the good isnae the cause o' everything, but juist o' the guid things?

Absolutely.

Then God, if he is guid, isnae the author o' everything, as a lot o' fowk say, but he's the cause o' only a few things, and no o' maist things that happen tae fowk. Because there's only a few guid things in life, and a lot o' bad things, and the guid things should be seen as comin' frae God alane; the causes o' the bad things need tae be socht somewhere else, and no blamed on him.

That seems tae me tae be absolutely true, he said.

Then we maunna listen tae Homer or any other poet who makes the daft mistake o' sayin' that there are:

Twa barrels at the threshold o' Zeus, fu' o' lots, yin o' guid lots, the ither o' bad lots, and that the one wha Zeus gies a mix o' the twa sometimes meets wi' ill fortune, at ither times wi' guid; but that the one wha is gien the cup o' unmixed evil,

Wild hunger drives him o'er the bonnie earth.  And again:

Zeus, wha gies us baith guid and evil things.  An if onyone says that the breakin' o' oaths and treaties, which wis really Pandarus's daein', wis brocht aboot by Athena and Zeus, or that the fechtin' and arguin' amang the gods wis startit by Themis and Zeus, they winna get oor approval; nor will we alloo oor young men tae hear the words o' Aeschylus, that God plants guilt amang men whan he wants tae utterly destroy a hoose.  And if a poet writes aboot the sufferin' o' Niobe - the story o' the tragedy whaur these iambic verses come frae - or aboot the hoose o' Pelops, or the Trojan war, or onythin' similar, either we cannae let them say that these are the works o' God, or if they are o' God, he must come up wi' some explanation o' them sic as we're lookin' for; he must say that God did whit wis fair and richt, and they were better aff for bein' punished; but that those who are punished are miserable, and that God is the author o' their misery - the poet isnae tae be allowed tae say that; although he can say that the wicked are miserable because they need tae be punished, and are helped by receivin' punishment frae God; but that God, bein' guid, is the author o' evil tae onyone, that should be strongly denied, and no tae be said or sung or heard in verse or prose by anyane, whether auld or young, in any well-run commonweel. Sic a story is self-destroyin', ruinous, and unholy.

I agree wi' ye, he replied, and I'm happy tae gie my consent tae that law.

Then let this be yin o' oor rules and main ideas aboot the gods, somethin' that oor poets and storytellers will need tae stick tae - that God isnae the cause o' everything, but juist o' guid things.

That'll dae, he said.

And whit dae ye think o' a second principle? Shall I ask ye if God is a magician, and o' a nature tae appear sneakily nou in yin shape, and then in anither - sometimes himsel changin' and turnin' intae mony shapes, sometimes trickin' us wi' the appearance o' sic transformations; or is he yin and the same, aye stayin' exactly the same in his ain proper image?

I cannae answer ye, he said, without thinkin' aboot it mair.

Weel, I said; but if we imagine somethin' changin', that change maun be caused either by the thing itsel, or by something else?

Absolutely.

And things that are at their best are an aa the least likely tae be altered or upset; for example, whan someone's at their healthiest and strongest, their body is least likely tae be affected by meat and drink, and the plant that's in the fu'est o' its health suffers least frae wunds or the heat o' the sun or any similar things.

Of course.

And winnae the bravest and wisest soul be least confused or deranged by any outside influence?

True.

And the same principle, as I wid imagine, applies tae aw things that are made up o' different parts - furniture, hooses, claes; whan they're guid and weel made, they're least affected by time and whit happens around them.

Very true.

Then everything that's guid, whether it's made by skill or by nature, or baith, is least likely tae suffer change frae something ootside itsel?

True.

But surely God and the things o' God are perfect in every wey?

Of course they are.

Then he widnae really be forced by something ootside tae tak on mony shapes?

He couldnae.

But could he no change and transform himsel?

Clearly, he said, that maun be the case if he changes at aw.

And will he then change himsel for the better and prettier, or for the warse and uglier?

If he changes at aw he can only change for the warse, because we cannae imagine him bein' lackin' in virtue or beauty.

Very true, Adeimantus; but then, would anyane, whether God or man, want tae mak themsels warse?

Impossible.

Then it's impossible that God should ever be willin' tae change; bein', as is supposed, the fairest and best that can be imagined, every god bides absolutely and forever in his ain form.

That necessarily follows, he said, in my judgment.

Then, I said, my dear friend, let nane o' the poets tell us that:

The gods, takin' on the disguise o' strangers frae ither lands, walk up and doun cities in aw sorts o' shapes; and let nane o' them slander Proteus and Thetis, neither let anyane, either in tragedy or in any ither kind o' poetry, bring in Here disguised in the likeness o' a priestess askin' alms

For the life-givin' daughters o' Inachus the river o' Argos; - let's hae nae mair lees o' that sort. Neither maun we hae mithers unner the influence o' the poets fechtin' their weans wi' a bad version o' these stories - tellin' them hoo certain gods, as they say, 'Go aboot by nicht in the likeness o' sae mony strangers and in different shapes'; but let them tak tent lest they mak cowards o' their weans, and at the same time speak blasphemy against the gods.

Heaven forbid, he said.

But although the gods are themsels unchangeable, still by witchcraft and trickery they micht mak us think that they appear in different shapes?

Perhaps, he replied.

Weel, but can ye imagine that God will be willin' tae lie, whether in word or deed, or tae pit oot a phantom o' himsel?

I cannae say, he replied.

Disnae ye ken, I said, that a true lie, if that's even a possible way o' puttin' it, is hated by gods and fowk?

What dae ye mean? he said.

I mean that nae yin is willin' tae be lied tae about the truest and highest part o' themsels, or aboot the truest and highest things; it's there, abune aw, that they're maist feart o' a lie takin' haud o' them.

Still, he said, I dinnae understand ye.

The reason is, I replied, that ye're pittin' some deep meanin' tae ma words; but I'm only sayin' that bein'襪 (sock) deceived or misled or uninformed aboot the highest realities in the highest part o' themsels, which is the soul, and in that part o' them tae hae and tae haud a lie, is whit fowk dislike the maist; --that, I say, is what they cannae abide.

There's nothin' they hate mair.

And, as I wis juist sayin' a wee while syne, this ignorance in the soul o' the one wha's bein' deceived can be called the true lie; for the lie in words is only a kind o' copy and shady image o' a previous feelin' o' the soul, no pure, unmixed fakeness. Am I no richt?

Absolutely richt.

The true lie is hated not only by the gods, but also by fowk?

Aye.

Whereas the lie in words is in certain cases useful and no hateful; in dealin' wi' enemies --that wid be an example; or again, when those wha we call oor friends in a fit o' madness or illusion are gaun tae dae some harm, then it's useful and is a kind o' medicine or preventative; an aa in the stories o' mythology, o' which we were juist speakin' aboot a wee while syne --because we dinnae ken the truth aboot auld times, we mak up stories that are as like the truth as we can, and so mak use o' them.

Very true, he said.

But can ony o' these reasons apply tae God? Can we imagine that he is ignorant o' antiquity, and therefore tells stories instead o' the truth?

That wid be ridiculous, he said.

Then the poet who tells lies has nae place in oor idea o' God?

I wid say not.

Or perhaps he might tell a lie because he is feart o' enemies?

That's inconceivable.

But he might hae friends who are senseless or mad?

But nae mad or senseless person can be a friend o' God.

Then there's nae reason at aw why God should lie?

None whatsoever.

Then the super-human and divine bein' is absolutely incapable o' falseness?

Aye.

Then is God perfectly straightforward and true baith in word and deed; he disnae change; he disnae deceive, either by sign or word, by dream or waukin vision.

Your thoughts, he said, are the reflection o' ma ain.

You agree wi' me then, I said, that this is the second type or form in which we should write and speak aboot divine things. The gods arenae magicians who transform themsels, neither dae they deceive mankind in any wey.

I grant that.

Then, although we are admirers o' Homer, we dinnae admire the lyin' dream that Zeus sends to Agamemnon; neither will we praise the verses o' Aeschylus in which Thetis says that Apollo at her weddin'

Wis celebratin' in sang her fair offspring whose days were tae be lang, and tae ken nae sickness. And when he had spoken o' my lot as in all things blessed o' heaven he raised a note o' triumph and cheered my soul. And I thocht that the word o' Phoebus bein' divine and fu' o' prophecy, widnae fail. And noo he himsel who uttered the strain, he who wis present at the banquet, and who said this --he it is who has slain my son.

These are the kind o' feelins aboot the gods that will mak us angry; and he who says them shinae get a chorus; neither shall we alloo teachers tae mak use o' them in the instruction o' the young, meanin', as we dae, that oor guardians, as far as fowk can be, should be true worshippers o' the gods and be like them.

I completely agree, be said, wi' these principles, and promise tae mak them my laws.

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End Book 2