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Socrates - Glaucon (cont)

Then if geometry steers us towards seein' bein', it's important for us; if it juist shows us stuff that changes, then it's no important for us?

Aye, that's whit we're sayin'.

But onybody wha kens a wee bit aboot geometry will tell ye that this idea o' the science is the opposite o' how folk that study it normally speak.

How come?

They juist care aboot practical stuff, an' are aye bletherin' on in a narrow-minded an' ridiculous way aboot makin' things square an' stretchin' them oot an' applyin' them an' the like - they mix up the things that geometry needs wi' the things ye need for everyday life; whereas kennin' things is the real aim o' the whole science.

Certainly, he said.

Then disnae there need tae be anither wee confession?

Whit confession?

That the knowledge that geometry aims at is knowledge o' somethin' that never dies, an' no o' onything that's aye perishin' an' passin' away.

That, he says, can easily be agreed with, an' it's true.

Then, my noble friend, geometry will draw the soul towards truth, an' create the spirit o' philosophy, an' raise up that which is noo, sadly, bein' allowed tae fall doon.

Naething will be mair likely tae hae sic an effect.

Then there's nothin' that we should say mair strictly than that the inhabitants o' yer braw city should absolutely learn geometry. Mairover, the science has wee effects on the side that are no unimportant.

Whit kind o' effects? he says.

There's the military advantages that ye spoke o', I said; an' in aa different areas o' learnin', as experience shows, anybuddy wha's studied geometry can pick things up far quicker than someone wha hasnae.

Aye, absolutely, he says, there's a world o' difference atween them.

Then shall we propose this as a second branch o' learnin' that oor young folk will study?

Let's dae that, he says.

An' suppose we mak star-gazin' the third - whit dae ye say?

I'm really interested in that, he says; kennin' aboot the seasons an' months an' years is as important for a general as it is for a fermer or a sailor.

I'm gey entertained, I said, at yer fear o' whit the warld will think, that maks ye careful no tae seem like ye're insistin' on pointless studies; an' I quite agree that it's difficult tae believe that in every man there's an ee o' the soul that, when it's gotten lost an' dimmed by ither things ye chase efter, can be cleansed an' lit up again by these studies; an' it's far mair precious than ten thousand bodily eyes, for it's juist wi' it that truth can be seen. Noo there's twa sorts o' folk: yin sort that'll agree wi' ye an' will tak yer words as a holy message; anither sort tae whaim they'll be nothin' but nonsense, an' wha will naturally think they're daft tales, for they cannae see ony kind o' gain tae be gotten fae them. An' therefore ye wid be better aff decidin' straucht awa' wha ye're tryin' tae argue wi'. Ye'll maist likely say it's neither, an' that yer main aim in havin' this argument is tae improve yersel'; at the same time ye dinnae begrudge ony benefit that ithers micht get fae it.

I think it wid be best if I just keep arguin' this mostly for ma ain benefit.

Actually, we've made a bit o' a mess o' the order o' the things we're learnin' aboot.

Whit went wrang? he says.

Efter we learned aboot flat shapes, I said, we went straight on tae solid shapes that spin aroond, instead o' just lookin' at solid shapes on their own; whereas efter learnin' aboot twa dimensions, we should hae moved on tae the third dimension, the yin that deals wi' cubes an' depth.

That's true, Socrates, but there just seems tae be nocht kent aboot these things yet.

Aye, weel, there's twa reasons for that, I said: first, nae government is giein' ony siller tae help folk study them, that means there's nae real push tae learn mair aboot them, an' they're tricky tae understand anywey; the second reason is that students cannae learn them on their own withoot someone teachin' them. But then it's near impossible tae find someone tae teach them, an' even if ye could, the way things are the noo, the students, wha are aw gey full o' themsels, widnae listen. But that would be different if the whole government wis in charge o' teachin' these things an' gied them some importance; then students wid want tae come an' learn, an' there wid be constant an' serious searchin' for new discoveries, an' things wid be discovered; because even noo, even though nobody cares aboot them an' they're a wee bittie incomplete, an' even though nae yin that studies them kens whit practical use they are, these studies are still sae inherently fascinatin' that they force their way intae bein' learned. An' maist likely, if they hid the government's help, they wid eventually come tae be properly understood.

Aye, he says, there is a real charm tae them. But I dinnae quite understand whit ye mean aboot changin' the order. First ye started wi' a geometry o' flat surfaces?

Aye, I said.

An' then ye put star-gazin' next, an' then ye backtracked a wee bit?

Aye, an' I've kept ye waitin' wi' ma hurry; the state o' solid geometry, which, if we were doin' things properly, should hae come next, is so ridiculous that it made me skip over it an' go on tae star-gazin', or the movement o' solid shapes.

True, he said.

Then lat's assume that this science we've left oot wid come tae be if the government encouraged it, let's move on tae star-gazin', which will be the fowerth thing we study.

That's the richt order, he says. An' noo, Socrates, since ye telt me off for the common way I praised star-gazin' afore, I'll praise it in the same way ye wid. Because everyone, as I think, maun see that star-gazin' steers the soul tae look up at the sky an' leads us fae this world tae anither.

Everyone except me, I said; it might be clear tae everyone else, but no tae me.

An' whit wid ye say then?

I wid say mair that folk who turn star-gazin' intae philosophy seem tae me tae be makin' us look doon at the grund instead o' up at the sky.

Whit dae ye mean? he asked.

Ye, I says, hae a richt grand idea aboot oor knowledge o' the things up in the sky. An' I wid say that even if someone wis tae fling their heid back an' study the fancy patterns on the ceilin', ye wid still think it wis their mind that wis understandin' them, an' no their eyes. An' ye're maist likely richt, an' I might juist be a daftie: but, in my opinion, it's only knowledge o' bein' an' o' things we cannae see that can mak the soul look up, an' whether a fellae is gapin' at the heavens or blinkin' at the grund, tryin' tae learn some wee thing he can see, I wid say he cannae truly learn anythin', because nothin' like that is real knowledge; his soul is lookin' doon, no up, whether he's tryin' tae learn things by sailin' the seas or walkin' on the land, whether he's floatin' on a boat or juist lyin' on his back.

I accept that yer criticism is fair, he says. Still, I wid like tae ken hoo star-gazin' could be learned in ony wey that wid be better for gettin' the kind o' knowledge we're speakin' aboot?

I'll tell ye, I says: The starry sky that we see is made on a base that we can see, an' therefore, even though it's the bonniest an' maist perfect o' sichty things, it absolutely must be seen as far inferior to the true movements o' absolute speed an' absolute slowness, that are relative tae each ither, an' carry wi' them that which is contained in them, in the true nummer an' in every true shape. Noo, these things can only be grasped bi reason an' intelligence, but no bi sicht.

True, he says.

The starry heavens should be used as a model an' wi' an eye towards gettin' that higher knowledge; their beauty is like the beauty o' shapes or pictures that are made beautifully by the hand o' Daedalus, or some ither great artist, that we might happen tae see; any mathematician who saw them wid appreciate hoo exquisitely they were made, but he wid never dream o' thinkin' that in them he could find the true equal or the true double, or the truth o' ony other proportion.

No, he says, that idea wid be ridiculous.

An' winnae a true star-gazer hae the same feelin' when he looks at the movements o' the stars? Will he no think that the sky an' the things in the sky are made by the one who created them in the maist perfect wey? But he wid never imagine that the lengths o' nicht an' day, or o' baith o' them compared tae a month, or o' a month compared tae a year, or o' the stars compared tae these things an' tae each ither, an' ony ither things that are material an' sichty can also be everlasting an' never change - that wid be absurd; an' it's equally absurd tae pit so much effort intae tryin' tae work oot their exact truth.

I completely agree, though I never thocht o' this afore.

Then, I says, in star-gazin', as in geometry, we should use problems, an' leave the actual sky alane if we want tae approach the subject in the richt wey an' sae mak the natural gift o' reason be o' any real use.

That, he said, is a job that's far beyond oor current star-gazers.

Aye, I said; an' there's mony ither things that wid need a similar approach, if oor laws are gaun tae be o' ony value. But can ye tell me o' ony ither suitable subject for study?

Nae, he says, no withoot thinkin' aboot it first.

There's mony different sorts o' movement, I said, no juist yin; twa o' them are obvious enough even for folk no cleverer than us; an' there's ithers, as I imagine, that we can leave for folk that are mair intelligent.

But whit are the twa ye mentioned?

There's a second yin, I said, that's the opposite o' the yin we already spoke aboot.

An' whit micht that be?

The second yin, I said, wid seem tae be for the ears whit the first yin is for the eyes; because I imagine that juist as the eyes are made for lookin' up at the stars, so are the ears for hearin' harmonious movements; an' these are sciences that are like sisters tae each ither - like the Pythagoreans say, an' Glaucon, we agree wi' them?

Aye, he says.

But this, I said, is a laborious study, an' therefore we better gang an' learn aboot it fae them; an' they'll tell us whether there's any ither wey tae use these sciences. At the same time, we maunnae lose sicht o' oor ain mair important goal.

Whit's that?

There's a perfection that all knowledge should reach, an' that oor students should aa try an' get tae, an' no fae short o', like I wis sayin' they did in star-gazin'. Because in the science o' harmony, as ye probably ken, the same thing happens. The teachers o' harmony compare the soonds an' harmonies that can only be heard, an' their wirk, like that o' the star-gazers, is in vain.

Aye, by heavens! he says; an' it's as guid as a play tae hear them bletherin' aboot their squished notes, as they call them; they pit their lugs richt next tae the strings like folk tryin' tae hear whit their neebours are sayin' through the wa' - yin set o' them sayin' they can hear a note in the middle an' hae discovered the smallest gap that should be the unit o' measurement; the ithers insistin' that the twa soonds hae become the same thing - aw o' them pittin' their ears afore their understandin'.

Ye mean, I said, those chiels wha torment an' torture the strings an' rax them on the pegs o' the instrument: they could keep up the metaphor an' speak in their wey aboot the hits that the plectrum gies, an' mak accusations against the strings, o' baith bein' slow an' ower eager tae soond; but this wid be tedious, an' therefore I'll only say that these are no the men we want, an' that I'm talkin' aboot the Pythagoreans, wha I wis juist proponin' we ask aboot harmony. Because they too are wrang, like the star-gazers; they investigate the numbers o' the harmonies that can be heard, but they never try tae work oot problems - that is tae say, they never reach the natural harmonies o' numbers, or think aboot why some numbers are harmonious an' ithers are no.

That, he says, is somethin' that's beyond human knowledge.

It's something, I replied, that I wid rather call beneficial; that is, if it's socht efter wi' an eye towards beauty an' goodness; but if it's pursued in ony ither wey, it's useless.

Very true, he said.

Noo, whan aw these different things we've been learnin' aa come together an' can be seen as connected tae each ither, an' are thocht aboot acause o' their similarities, then, I think, but no afore then, will belajarnin' them be ony guid for whit we're efter; itherwise there's nae point in them.

I wid imagine so; but whit ye're talkin' aboot, Socrates, is a massive undertaking.

Whit dae ye mean? I says; is it the introduction or the actual sang? Disnae ye ken that aw this is jist the warm-up for the real melody that we need tae learn? Because ye wid surely no see a skilled mathematician as someone wha can debate things?

Absolutely no, he says; I've hardly ever met a mathematician that wis able tae reason properly.

But dae ye imagine that folk wha cannae gie reasons an' listen tae reasons in return will hae the knowledge that we need them tae hae?

That widnae be possible either.

An' so, Glaucon, I says, we've finally arrived at the hymn o' dialectic. This is that sang that's only fur the mind, but that the faculty o' sicht will somehow manage tae imitate; because sicht, as ye might mind, we imagined efter a while that it could see the real animals an' stars, an' last o' all the sun itself. An' it's the same wi' dialectic; whan someone starts tae discover the absolute truth juist by the light o' reason, an' withoot any help fae their senses, an' keeps gaun on until bi pure intelligence they come tae perceive the absolute good, they finally find themsels at the end o' the intellectual world, juist like sicht is at the end o' the visible world.

Exactly, he says.

Then this is the progress that ye call dialectic?

True.

But whit aboot lettin' the prisoners oot o' their chains, an' movin' them fae the shadows tae the images an' then intae the light, an' their climb fae the underground den up tae the sun, while whan they're in its presence they're tryin' in vain tae see animals an' plants an' the licht o' the sun, but are able tae see even wi' their weak eyes the images in the watter (whilk are like gods), an' are the shadows o' true existence (nae the shadows o' images cast bi a firelight, whilk compared wi' the sun is only an image) -- this ability tae lift up the highest part o' the soul tae think aboot the best thing that exists, something we can compare tae liftin' up the faculty that is the very licht o' the body tae see the brightest thing in the material an' visible world -- this ability is gien, as I wis sayin', bi aw that study an' pursuit o' the airts that we've been speakin' aboot.

I agree wi' whit ye're sayin', he says, whilk micht be hard tae believe, yet, fae anither point o' view, is even harder tae deny. This, however, isnae a topic tae be discussed briefly, but will need tae be talked aboot again an' again. An' so, whether oor conclusion is true or false, let's assume aw this, an' move on straicht awa' fae the introduction or the preamble tae the main sang, an' describe that in the same wey. Tell me then, whit is the nature an' whit are the sections o' dialectic, an' whit are the paths that lead thare; because these paths will also lead us tae oor final rest?

Dear Glaucon, I said, you winnae be able tae follow me here, though I wid dae ma best, an' ye wid see no jist an image but the absolute truth, accordin' tae my idea. Whether whit I tellt ye wid or widnae hae been a reality I cannae say for sure; but ye wid hae seen something like reality; o' that I am confident.

Aye, that's true enough, he says.

But I maun remind ye an aw, that it's only the power o' dialectic that can reveal this, an' only tae someone who's a student o' the previous subjects we spoke aboot.

Ye can be sure o' that juist as sure as ye are o' the last thing I said.

An' absolutely nobody will argue that there's any other wey tae properly understand true existence or tae find oot whit each thing truly is; because the airts in general are mair aboot the desires or opinions o' fowk, or are something ye dae tae mak something or tae keep something made, an' as for the mathematics that we were sayin' hae some grasp o' true bein', geometry an' the like, they only dream aboot bein', but they can never see it properly as long as they dinnae check the ideas they use as a stairt an' are unable tae explain them. Because if a fella disnae ken his ain first principles, an' whan the end an' the steps in between are aw based on somethin' he disnae understand, hoo can he imagine that sic a ramshackle thing can ever be considered proper knowledge?

Impossible, he says.

Then dialectic, an' dialectic alane, goes straight tae the first principle an' is the only science that gets rid o' assumptions tae mak sure its foundations are safe; the soul's eye, that's literally buried in a foreign bog, is by its gentle help lifted upwards; an' it uses as assistants an' helpers in the wirk o' changin' oor perspective, the sciences that we've been discussin'. Fowk generally call them sciences, but they maybe should hae anither name, something that means clearer than opinion but no as clear as proper knowledge: an' this, in oor previous chat, we called understandin'. But why should we argue aboot names whan we hae such important things tae consider?

True enough, he says, whan any name will dae the job o' expressin' whit we're thinkin' clearly.

At any rate, we agree, as before, that there's four divisions; twa for the intellect an' twa for opinion, an' we call the first division science, the second understandin', the third belief, an' the fowert perception o' shadows, opinion bein' concerned wi' things changin', an' intellect wi' things that truly are; an' so we can mak a comparison:

As bein' is tae becoming, so is pure intellect tae opinion.

An' as intellect is tae opinion, so is science tae belief, an' understandin' tae the perception o' shadows. But let's leave decidin' on ony further connections an' breakin' doun o' the subjects o' opinion an' intellect for anither time, because it would be a lang enquiry, far langer than this one has been.

As far as I understand it, he says, I agree.

An' dae ye also agree, I said, that a dialectician is someone who can come up with a concept o' the essence o' each thing? An' the one who disnae hae this concept an' is therefore unable tae teach it tae ithers, nae matter how much he fails, can in that same wey be said tae fail in understandin'? Will ye agree tae that much?

Aye, he says; hoo could I disagree?

An' ye wid say the same thing aboot the concept o' the good?

Until the person can separate oot an' define in a reasonable wey the idea o' goodness, an' unless they can answer ony objections they come up against, an' are ready tae disprove them, no bi appealin' tae opinion, but tae absolute truth, never falterin' at any point in the argument - unless they can dae all this, ye wid say that they ken neither the idea o' good nor any ither good thing; they juist see a shadow, if onything at all, that's gien by opinion an' no bi proper knowledge; - dreamin' an' sleepin' throu this life, afore they properly wake up here, they arrive at the next world, an' that's the end o' them.

In all o' that I wid absolutely agree wi' ye.

An' surely ye widnae want the bairns o' yer ideal state, wha ye are bringin' up an' educatin' - if the ideal ever becomes reality - ye widnae allou the future rulers tae be like fence posts, havin' nae reason in them, an' yet tae be set in authority ower the maist important things?

Certainly not.

Then ye'll mak a law that they should hae an education that will lat them become the best possible at askin' an' answerin' questions?

Aye, he says, you an' me thegither will mak it.

Dialectic, then, as ye wid agree, is the top stane o' the sciences, an' is set abune them aw; nae ither science can be put higher - the natur o' knowledge can gang nae further?

I agree, he says.

But wha we are tae gie these studies tae, an' in whit wey they are tae be gien, are questions that are still tae be considered?

Aye, clearly.

Ye mind, I said, hoo the rulers were chosen afore?

Certainly, he says.

The same sorts o' folk maun still be chosen, an' the preference gien again tae the maist dependable an' the bravest, an' if possible, tae the bonniest; an, havin' noble an' generous temperaments, they should also hae the natural gifts that will mak it easier for them tae be educated.

An' whit are these?

Gifts like being sharp an' learnin' things quickly; because the mind is mair likely tae gie up acause o' the difficulty o' study than it is acause o' gym exercises: the waurk is mair completely the mind's ain, an' it's no shared wi' the body.

Very true, he replied.

Further, the one we are lookin' for should hae a guid memory, an' be a tireless, reliable person who likes waurk o' any kind; or he will never be able tae put up wi' the grit amount o' bodily exercise an' go through aw the intellectual training an' study that we need him tae dae.

Certainly, he says; they maun hae natural ability.

The mistake the noo is, that those who study philosophy are no called for it, an' this, as I wis sayin' afore, is the reason why it's gotten a bad name: her true sons should tak her bi the haun an' no some dafties

Whit dae ye mean?

Firstly, someone who wants tae study philosophy shouldnae be half-wirkin' - I mean, they shouldnae be a wee bit keen an' then lazy aw the time: like, for example, if a fellae loves gymnastics an' huntin' an' aw ither sorts o' bodily exercises, but hates learnin' or listenin' or investigatin'. Or the thing they like daein' could be the opposite, an' they could be lame in a different wey.

Makes sense, he says.

An' as for truth, I says, isnae a soul the same wey lame if they hate lyin' on purpose an' get really angry at themsels an' ithers whan they tell lees, but are fine wi' folk lyin' accidentally, an' disnae mind wallowin' like a pig in the muck o' ignorance, an' has nae shame whan they're caught oot?

Absolutely true.

An' again, for stuff like self-control, bravery, bein' grand, an' every ither virtue, widnae we need tae carefully tell the difference atween the true son o' philosophy an' the daftie? Because whan there's nae discernment o' sic qualities, states an' individuals end up makin' mistakes withoot realizin' it, an' the state makes a leader, an' the individual a friend, o' someone wha's lackin' in some part o' bein' virtuous, an' is basically a lame or fake version o' a decent person.

That's very true, he says.

Aw these things, then, will need tae be carefully considered bi us; an' if only those folk wha we introduce tae this huge system o' learnin' an' trainin' are healthy in body an' mind, then justice itself willnae hae onythin' tae say against us, an' we'll be the saviours o' the government an' the state; but, if oor pupils are folk o' a different stamp, the opposite will happen, an' we'll mak philosophy look even sillier than it does already.

That widnae be a good look.

Certainly not, I says; an' yet perhaps, in speakin' seriously aboot something that wis a joke, I'm bein' equally daft.

In whit wey?

I forgot, I says, that we werenae bein' serious, an' spoke wi' ower much excitement. Because whan I saw philosophy bein' so unfairly trodden under fit by folk I couldnae help but feel a sort o' anger at the ones who made it look bad: an' my rage made me ower keen.

Ach! I wis listenin', an' didnae think so.

But me, the one speakin', felt that I wis. An' noo let me mind ye that, although afore we chose auld men, we maunnae dae that this time. Solon wis wrang whan he said that a fella can learn a lot o' things whan he gets auld - because he cannae learn much any mair than he can run fast; youth is the time for any extraordinary effort.

Och course.

An' therefore, mathematics, geometry an' aw the ither things that come before learnin' dialectic, should be introduced tae the mind in childhood; but we shouldnae be forcin' oor system o' learnin' on them.

Why no?

Because a free person shouldnae be a slave tae learnin' onythin'. Bodily exercise, whan it's compulsory, disnae dae any harm tae the body; but knowledge that's learned under compulsion disnae stick in the mind.

Very true.

Then, my good friend, I said, dinnae use compulsion, but lat early learnin' be a sort o' fun; ye'll then be better able tae find oot what the bairn is naturally good at.

That's a very sensible notion, he says.

Mind ye that the weans were also supposed tae be taken tae see battles on horseback; an' that if there wisnae any danger they were tae be brought richt up close an' given a taste o' blood, like young hoo hounds?

Aye, I mind.

We can dae the same thing, I says, wi' aw these things - waurk, lessons, dangers - an' the one who can handle them aw best should be picked tae be in a special group.

At whit age?

At the age whan the need for gymnastics is ower; the twa or three years spent on that sort o' trainin' isnae useful for onything else; because sleepin' an' exercise arenae good for learnin'; an' testin' who's best at gymnastics is ane o' the maist important things oor young fowk can go through.

Certainly, he says.

Efter that time, those wha are picked frae the group o' twenty year olds will be promoted tae a higher honour, an' the sciences that they learned withoot any real order as bairns will noo be put thegither, an' they'll be able tae see hoo they aw connect wi' each ither an' wi' true bein'.

Aye, he says, that's the only kind o' knowledge that sticks in yer heid for good.

Aye, I says; an' the ability tae handle sic knowledge is the best wey tae tell if someone's talented at dialectic: the mind that can see the big picture is always the best at dialectic.

I agree wi' ye, he says.

These are the things ye need tae consider, I says; an' those wha can understand things the best, an' wha are the steadiest in their learnin', an' wha dae their jobs in the military an' ither things weel, whan they reach the age o' thirty hae tae be picked by ye oot o' the special group, an' gien a higher honour; an' ye'll need tae test them wi' the help o' dialectic, tae see whilk o' them can stop relyin' on their sicht an' the ither senses, an' reach true bein' alang wi' the truth. An' here, my friend, ye need tae be really careful.

Why really careful?

Disnae it strike ye, I says, hoo much bad dialectic has caused?

Whit bad stuff? he says.

The students o' the art end up disrespectin' the law.

That's quite true, he says.

Dae ye think that's anythin' sae unnatural or un excusable o' them? Or will ye mak' allowances for them?

In whit wey mak' allowances?

Well, imagine this, I says, a lad who's brought up really wealthy; he's one o' a big faimly wi' lots o' flatterers. Whin he grows up, he learns that his so-called parents arenae his real ones; but wha the real ones are he cannae find oot. Can ye guess how he'll likely behave towards his flatterers an' his supposed parents, first o' all whan he disnae ken the truth, an' then again whan he does? Or should I guess for ye?

If you please.

Then I wid say, that while he disnae ken the truth he'll likely respect his faither an' mither an' his supposed relatives mair than the flatterers; he'll be less likely tae ignore them whan they need somethin', or tae dae or say onything against them; an' he'll be less willin' tae disobey them in any important matter.

He will.

But whan he's discovered the truth, I wid imagine that he wid respect an' regard them less, an' wid become mair friendly wi' the flatterers; their influence ower him wid grow a lot; he wid noo live the wey they dae, an' openly associate wi' them, an' unless he wis an unusually good fella, he widnae bother himsel' any mair aboot his supposed parents or ither relatives.

Weel, that's aw very likely. But hoo does this story apply tae the students o' philosophy?

Richt, that's true.

Noo, imagine a fella is in this state, an' someone starts questionin' him on whit's richt or honourable, an' he answers the wey the law says he should, but then a wheen different arguments come up an' tear his answers tae bits, until he starts thinkin' that nothin' is honourable or dishonourable, or juist an' good any mair than the opposite, an' that goes for aw the things he used tae value maist. Do ye think he'll still gie them the same respect an' obedience as afore?

Naw wey!

An' whan he stops thinkin' o' them as honourable an' natural like he did afore, an' he cannae find oot whit the truth is, wid ye expect him tae live ony differently than followin' his ain desires?

He couldnae dae anythin' else.

An' frae bein' a law-abidin' fella he turns intae someone who breaks the law?

Absolutely.

Noo, aw this is natural behaviour for students o' philosophy like the ones I've described, an' as I wis sayin' juist a wee while syne, it's maistly forgivable.

Aye, he says; an' I wid add, it's a peety.

Therefore, sae that ye disnae tak pity on oor fowk who are thirty year auld noo, we need tae be really careful hoo we introduce them tae dialectic.

Certainly.

There's a danger that they'll get a taste for it ower early; because young yins, as ye've likely noticed, whan they first get a wee nip, they argue for fun, an' are aye contradictin' an' refutin' ithers, copyin' the folk wha refute them; like wee doggies, they like puppin' an' rippin' at anythin' that comes near them.

Aye, he says, there's nothin' they like better.

An' whan they've made a lot o' conquests an' been beat by a lot o' fowk, they quickly an' violently end up no believin' anythin' they believed before, an' that gars ithers tae think bad things no jujst aboot them, but aboot philosophy an' aw that goes wi' it.

That's aw too true, he says.

But whan a fella gets a bit aulder, he'll no longer be so daft; he'll copy the dialectician who's lookin' for the truth, an' no the argumentative one who contradicts for fun; an' the mair control he has o' himsel' will mak dialectic seem mair respectable, no less.

Very true, he says.

An' didnae we mak special arrangements for this, whan we said that the students o' philosophy should be orderly an' steadfast, no like ony random person who fancies it jist noo?

Very true.

Imagine, I says, that studyin' philosophy takes the place o' gymnastics an' they dae it seriously an' earnestly an' only dae that for twice as long as they spent on exercise - wid that be enough?

Wid ye say sax years or fower? he asked.

Say five years, I answered; at the end o' that time they must be sent back doon intae the cave an' made tae haud ony military or ither job that young men can dae: this wey they'll get experience o' life, an' there will be a chance tae see if they'll stand firm or gie in whan they're tempted in aw sorts o' ways.

An' hoo lang's this stage o' their lives gaun tae last?

Fifteen year, I answered; an' whan they've reached fifty year auld, then let the anes wha are still alive an' hae done weel in awthing they've done an' aw the things they've learned finally reach the heicht o' their achievement; the time has noo come for them tae turn the ee o' their soul tae the universal licht that shaws on everything, an' see the absolute good; because that's the pattern they need tae use tae sort oot the state an' the lives o' individual fowk, an' the rest o' their ain lives as well; makin' philosophy their main pursuit, but whan it's their turn, waurkin' in politics an' leadin' for the greater good, no like they're daein' something heroic, but juist as a duty; an' whan they've brocht up ithers like themsels in each generation an' left them in their place tae be leaders o' the state, then they'll gang awa' tae the Islands o' the Blest an' bide there; an' the city will gie them public memorials an' sacrifices an' honour them, if the oracle at Delphi says it's alright, as demigods, but if no, then awthocht as blessed an' divine fowk any wey.

Ye're a sculptor, Socrates, an' ye've made statues o' oor leaders that are flawless in beauty.

Aye, I said, Glaucon, an' o' oor women leaders an aw; because ye maunna think that what I've been sayin' applies only tae men an' no tae women as weel, as far as they're able.

That's richt, he says, since we made them tae share in aw things like the men.

Weel, I said, an' ye wid agree (wid ye no?) that what's been said aboot the state an' the government isnae juist a dream, an' although difficult it's no impossible, but only possible in the wey that's been suggested; that is tae say, whan the true philosopher kings are born in a state, yin or mair o' them, despisin' the honours o' this present world that they think are mean an' worthless, esteemin' richt an' the honour that comes frae doin' richt abune aw things, an' seein' justice as the greatest an' maist important thing o' aw, somethin' they serve an' wey o' thinkin' they will raise up whan they sort oot their ain city?

Hoo will they gang aboot that?

They'll start bi sendin' oot intae the kintra aw the fowk in the city wha are mair than ten year auld, an' will tak charge o' their weans, wha winna be affected by the habits o' their parents; they'll train them in their ain habits an' laws, I mean the laws that we've gien them: an' this wey the state an' constitution o' whilk we were speakin' will become happy an' weel-run as quickly an' easily as possible, an' the nation that has sic a constitution will be the best off.

Aye, that will be the best wey. An' I think, Socrates, that ye've described awthocht weel hoo, if it ever could, sic a constitution micht come intae bein'.

We've said enough then aboot the perfect state, an' the man who reflects it - there's nae bother seein' hoo we can describe him.

There's nae bother, he replied; an' I agree wi' ye in thinkin' that nae mair needs tae be said.

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