Beuk IV, Part One

‍

Adeimantus - SOCRATES

"Awe man, Socrates," says Adeimantus, "whit wey wid ye answer if some fellae wis tae say ye wur makin' thir fowk miserable, an' that they wur the cause o' their ain unhappiness? The city belangs tae them, bit it disnae dae them a blin' bit o' guid. Ither fowk can get lands, big braw hooses, an' hae everything richt fancy - they mak thair ain sacrifices tae the gods, an' they keep open hoose. Juist like ye wis sayin' a wee bit syne, they hae gowd an' siller, an' aw the craic that gangs wi' bein' lucky. But oor puir fowk are nae better than mercenaries that are billetted in the toon, aye on guard duty!"

"Aye," says I, "an' ye can add tae that they only git fed, an' nae extra siller like ither fowk. Sae they cannae jist tak a jaunt for pleasure, even if they wantit tae; they hae nae siller tae spend on a mistress or ony ither extravagant fancy, whit fowk generally think o' as happiness. An' there's a wheen mair accusations ye could fling oor wey."

"Bit," says he, "latna assume onything different."

"Ye mean tae ask whit oor answer will be?" says I.

"Aye."

"If we bide on the auld road," says I, "I reckon we'll find the answer. An' oor answer will be that, juist as they are, oor guardians micht weel be the happiest o' fowk. But whit we wantit whan we foondit the state wisnae the happiness o' juist yin class, ower abune the lave. We wantit the greatest happiness for the hale wheen-bam. We thocht that in a state that's ordered tae benefit the hale lot, we wid be mair likely tae find Jestice, an' in the ill-ordered state, Injustice. An' ance we fand them, we could then decide whit yin wis the happier. Richt noo, we're paintitin' the happy state, no bit by bit, or wi' an ee on makin' a wheen fowk happy, but as a hale thing. An' sune eneuch, we'll get roon tae seein' the opposite kinna state. Imagine we wur paintit a statue, an' some fellae comes up tae us an' says, 'Why are ye no pittin' the brawest colours on the brawest bits o' the body? The een should be purple, but ye've made them black!' We could gie him a fair answer: 'Sir, ye widna surely want us tae mak the een sae braw that they're nae langer een? Think mair aboot whether, bi gievin' this an' the ither features their richt proportion, we mak the hale thing braw.'" "Sae, listen here," says I, "dinnae mak us gie oor guardians a happiness that wid turn them intae anythin' but guardians. We can pit fancy claes on oor fermers an' gouden croons on their heids an' tell them tae till the grund as lang as they like, nae langer. An' oor potters could jist lie aboot on couches, feastin' by the fire, passin' the wine cup roon, wi' their wheel handy, an' only makin' pots whan they fancy it. That wey, we could mak every class happy - an' then, as ye seem tae think, the hail state wid be happy. But dinnae gie us that notion in oor heids! If we listen tae ye, the fermer willnae be a fermer anymair, the potter will stop bein' a potter, an' nae yin will hae a proper trade in the state. Now, that's nae bother if it's jist cobblers gettin' puckle-feathered an' pretendin' tae be somethin' they're no. But whan the guardians o' the laws an' the government are only guardians in name, no in fact, then see hoo they turn the state upside doun! On the ither haund, they're the only yins that can gie order an' happiness tae the state. We want oor guardians tae be true saviours, no destroyers o' the state, whereas oor opponent is thinkin' o' peashaunts at a festival, havin' a richt bleeter, no citizens daein' their duty. But if that's the case, then we're talkin' aboot different things, an' he's speakin' o' somethin' that's no a state ava. An' sae we need tae consider whit we want mair - the guardians' ain happiness individually, or if happiness disnae come mair fae the state as a hale thing? If it's the latter that's true, then the guardians, the back-up troops, an' aw the lave o' them need tae be made or encouraged tae dae their ain wark in the best wey possible. An' that wey, the hale state will grow up in a braw order, an' the different classes will get the happiness that nature allots them."

"I reckon ye're spot on," says I. "Bit whit dae ye think aboot anither wee observation that's juist come intae ma heid?"

"Whit wid that be?"

"There seems tae be twa things that can mak the airts waur."

"Whit are they?"

"Siller," says I, "an' pouerty."

"Hoo dae they waurk?"

"It gaes like this: If a potter gets rich, will he still tak the same care o' his craft, dae ye think?"

"Absolutely no."

"He'll juist get mair and mair indolent an' careless?"

"Aye, that's richt."

"An' the result will be that he becomes a waur potter?"

"Aye, he gets a lot waur."

"But on the ither haund, if he has nae siller, an' cannae afford tools or instruments, he'll no be able tae wark as weel himsel, nor will he teach his sons or apprentices tae wark as weel."

"Absolutely no."

"Then, unner the influence o' either pouerty or siller, tradesmen an' their wark are juist as likely tae gang bad?"

"That's clear."

"Weel then," says I, "that's a new set o' problems we've discovered that oor guardians need tae watch oot for, or they'll creep intae the city withoot us even noticin'."

"Whit problems wis ye thinkin' o'?"

"Siller an' pouerty," says I. "Yin o' them brings luxury an' laziness, an' the ither brings meanness an' wickedness, an' baith o' them cause discontent."

"That's true eneuch," says he, "but whit aboot oor city gaen tae war, Socrates? Especially against an enemy that's rich an' pouerful, if we hinnae the siller tae fund it?"

"There wid definitely be a wheen problems gaun tae war wi' an enemy like that," says I, "but there widnae be ony if there wis twa o' them."

"Hoo come?" he asks.

"Weel," says I, "if we need tae fecht, oor side will be trained warriors gaun up against an airmy o' rich folk."

"That's true," says he.

"An' Adeimantus, disnae it strike ye that a single boxer that wis a master o' the trade could easily handle twa hefty, well-aff gentlemen that didnae ken whit boxin' wis aboot?"

"No really, if they baith ganged fir him at yince."

"Whit, no," says I, "if he could rin awa an' then turn roon an' gie a gaelich tae the yin that came at him first? An' latna assume he only did that yince, but a wheen times unner a burnin' sun. Widnae he, bein' an expert, be able tae knock ower mair than yin hefty fellae?"

"Aye," says he, "there wid be naethin' strange aboot that."

"An' rich fowk likely hae a bigger advantage in boxin' skills an' practice than they dae in bein' braw soldiers."

"That maks sense."

"Then we can say that oor athletes wid be able tae fecht wi' twa or three times the nummer o' their ain?"

"I agree wi' ye, I think ye're richt."

"An' latna assume that afore we fecht, oor fowk send an embassy tae yin o' the twa cities, tellin' them the truth: 'We dinnae hae nor are we alloued tae hae siller or gowd, but ye can; sae come an' help us in the war, an' tak the spoils o' the ither city.' Wha, hearin' these words, wid pick a fecht wi' thin, scrawny dugs, rather than fecht alangside the dugs against fat, juicy sheep?"

"That widnae be likely," says he, "but there micht be a danger tae oor puir state if aw the siller o' a wheen states wis githered intae yin."

"But whit a daft like ye tae be callin' onything else a state apairt fae oor ain!" says I.

"Whit dae ye mean?"

"Ye wid best be speakin' o' ither states in the plural! Nane o' them is a city, but a wheen wee cities stuck thegither, like they say in the bairn's game. In fact, any wee toon, no matter hoo wee, is basically split intae twa - yin o' the puir fowk, the ither o' the rich. Thir twa bits are aye fechtin' wi' ilk ither, an' inside each bit there's even mair wee divisions. Ye wid be waaaay aff the mark if ye treated them aw as yin state. But if ye deal wi' them as separate, an' gie the siller or pouer or fowk o' the yin lot tae the ithers, ye'll aye hae a wheen mair friends an' nae that many enemies. An' oor state, as lang as the wise order we've come up wi' keeps gaun, will be the greatest state there is, no in fame or looks, but in real terms, even if it only has a thoosand defenders. Ye'll be hard pressed tae find anither single state tae match it, either amang Greeks or barbarians, though there's a wheen that seem as big an' a lot bigger."

"That's absolutely true," says he.

"An' whit," says I, "wid be the best limit for oor rulers tae set whan they're thinkin' aboot the size o' the state an' hoo much land they need tae include, an' nae mair?"

"Whit limit wid ye suggest?"

"I wid allou the state tae grow as lang as it stays unified; that, I think, is the richt limit."

"Aye, that's a braw notion," says he.

"Weel then," says I, "here's anither order that oor guardians need tae hear: Let oor city be nae bigger nor wee-er, juist yin an' self-sufficient."

"An' surely," says he, "that's no a richt harsh order we're giein' them."

"An' the ither yin," says I, "that we wis speakin' aboot afore is even easier - I mean the duty o' movin' the offspring o' the guardians doon a notch if they're no up tae scratch, an' o' bringin' the offspring o' the lawer classes up intae the guardians if they're naturally braw. The idea wis that, for aw the fowk in the state, ilk yin wid be put tae the wark that nature designed them for, yin job for yin person, an' then every man wid dae their ain haunikers, an' be yin person, no a wheen bits; an' that wey the hail city wid be yin thing, no a jumble o' wee bits."

"Aye," says he, "that's no that hard tae dae."

"The rules we're settin' oot, my guid Adeimantus, arenae, as ye micht think, a wheen big ideas, but wee things awthogether, if we tak care o' the yin big thing, as the sayin' goes. Though maybe it's no that big, but important eneuch for oor purposes."

"Whit wid that be?" he asks.

"Education an' upbringing," says I. "If oor fowk are weel edjucaited, an' grow up tae be sensible fowk, they'll easily see their wey through aw this, an' ither things I'm no mentionin' juist noo - like marriage, havin' weemen an' havin' weans. Aw that can follow the general principle that friends share everythin', as the proverb says."

"That wid be the best wey tae sort it aw oot."

"An' awso," says I, "the state, if it gets aff tae a braw start, moves wi' mair an' mair force, like a wheel. Guid upbringing an' edjucaition pit in braw constitutions, an' thir braw constitutions takkin' root in a braw edjucaition get better an' better, an' this improvement affects the fowk themselves, juist like it dis wi' beasts."

"Very likely," says he.

"Then tae sum things up: This is the main thing oor rulers need tae pay attention tae - that muisic an' gymnastics are kept the wey they are the noo, an' nae newfangled things are introduced. They need tae dae their best tae keep them exactly as they are. An' whan onybody says that fowk like the latest song that the singers sing the maist, they'll be feart that the body is maybe no praisin' new sangs, but a new kind o' sang a'thegither; an' that shoudnae be praised, or seen as whit the poet meant; for any newfangled muisic is a thing o' danger for the hail state, an' it shoud be banned. Damon tells me that, an' I can believe him fine - he says that whan the styles o' muisic change, the state aye changes alang wi' them."

"Aye," says Adeimantus, "an' ye can coont ma vote alangside Damon's an' yer ain."

"Then," says I, "oor guardians need tae lay the foondations o' their state in muisic?"

"Aye," says he, "that lack o' rules ye speak o' creeps in ower easy."

"Aye," says I, "it comes in disgised as fun; an' at first glance it seems harmless."

"Weel, aye," says he, "an' there's nae harm, wid it no be that wee by wee this undisciplined spirit finds a hame, an' steeks itsel imperceptibly intae manners an' customs. An' frae there, it rashes oot wi' mair force, intae deals atween fowk, an' then intae laws an' constitutions, gaun utterly wild, an' endin' up in the owerturn o' aw richts, private an' public."

"Is that true?" says I.

"That's whit I believe," says he.

"Then, as I wis sayin'," says I, "oor young fowk need tae be trained in a stricter wey frae the very beginnin', for if their amusements are undisciplined, an' they themselves become undisciplined, they'll never grow up tae be weel-behaved an' virtuous citizens."

"Absolutely true," says he.

"An' whan they've made a guid start wi' their play, an' by learnin' muisic hae gotten a habit o' order, then this habit o' order, hoo different it is frae the lawless play o' the ithers! will bide wi' them through aw their actions an' help them grow, an' if there's onything that's fallen apart, this principle o' order in the state will set it richt again."

"Very true," says he.

"Edjucaited this wey, they'll mak up their ain wee rules for onything their forbears completely forgot aboot."

"Whit dae ye mean?" says I.

"Weel, things like this: whan young fowk need tae be quiet in front o' their elders; hoo they shouda show them respect by standin' up an' lettin' them sit; whit honour is due tae parents; whit claes or shoon tae wear; hoo tae style their hair; an' deportment an' manners in general. Ye wid agree wi' me?"

"Aye."

"But there's nae great wisdom, I think, in makin' laws aboot sic things - I widnae say it's ever been done; nor wid any scribbled-oot laws aboot them likely last long."

"Impossible."

"It seems, Adeimantus," says I, "that the wey edjucaition sets a man aff will determine the rest o' his life. Disnae like aye attract like?"

"Aye, for sure."

"Until some rare an' braw outcome happens, that micht be guid, or it micht be the opposite?"

"That's true eneuch."

"An' for that reason," says I, "I widnae try tae mak any mair laws aboot thir things."

"Fair enough," he says.

"Weel, then whit aboot the gangins-on in the marketplace, deals an' the ordinary barters atween fowk, or maakin' agreements wi' tradesmen; aboot insults an' injuries, startin' legal cases, an' pickin' juries? Whit dae ye say? There micht an aa be questions aboot ony taxes or wee fees that need tae be gathered at the market or harbour, an' generally aboot the rules for markets, the police, the harbours, an' siclike. But och, heavens! Shoud we stoop so low as tae mak laws aboot any o' thir wee details?"

"I think," says he, "there's nae need tae gie laws aboot them tae guid fowk; whit rules they need they'll figure oot soon enough themsels."

"Aye," says I, "my friend, if God will only keep safe the laws we've already gien them."

"An' withoot divine help," says Adeimantus, "they'll juist keep gaun on makin' an' mendin' their laws an' their lives forever, hopin' tae reach perfection."

"Wid ye compare them," says I, "tae thae unhealthy folk that cannae control themsels an' winnae gie up their bad habits?"

"Exactly."

"Aye," says I, "an' whit a braw life they lead! They're aye doctorin' themsels, makin' their problems waur an' mair complex, an' aye thinkin' they'll be cured bi ony quacky cure that onybody tells them tae try."

"That's aw ower common," says he, "wi' unhealthy folk like that."

"Aye," says I, "an' the best bit is that they think the warst enemy is the yin that tells them the truth, whilk is simply that unless they stop eatin' an' drinkin' an' lyin' aboot an' bein' idle, nae medicine nor burnin' nor charm nor lucky charm nor ony ither cure will dae them ony good."

"Braw!" says he. "I cannae see whit's braw aboot gettin' in a state wi' a body that's tellin' ye whit's richt."

"Thir chiels," says I, "disnae seem tae be in yer guid buiks."

"Absolutely no."

"Nor wid ye praise the behaviour o' states that act like the men I wis juist describin'. For arenae there some badly run states whaur the fowk are forbidden unner pain o' death tae change the constitution? An' yet the yin that can best sweet-talk thae fowk that live unner this regime, an' gie them whatever they want, an' fawn on them, an' is clever at guessin' an' fulfillin' their wee moods, is seen as a braw an' guid statesman - disnae that state seem like the folk I wis describin'?"

"Aye," says he, "the states are jist as bad as the men; an' I'm far fae praisin' them."

"But disnae ye admire," says I, "the coolness an' cleverness o' thir folk that are aye ready tae corrupt the government?"

"Aye," says he, "I dae admire them; but no aw o' them, for there's some that the clappin' o' the crowd has led tae believe they're real statesmen, an' they're no that admirable."

"Whit dae ye mean?" says I; "ye shoud hae mair compassion for them. If a fella cannae measure himsel, an' a wheen ithers that cannae measure either say he's fower cubits tall, can he help believin' whit they say?"

"Nae, absolutely no," says he, "no in that case."

"Weel then," says I, "dinnae get angry wi' them; for arenae they like a play, tryin' their wee tricks at reformin' things like I wis sayin'? They're aye thinkin' that bi makin' laws they'll stop folk bein' swindled in deals, an' aw the ither rascalities I wis mentionin', no kennin' that they're basically choppin' off the heads o' a hydra."

"Aye," says he, "that's exactly whit they're doin'."

"I believe," says I, "that the true law-maker winnae fash themsel wi' this kind o' legislation, whether it's aboot laws or the constitution, either in a badly run state or a weel-run yin; for in the first lot they're nae use at aw, an' in the second lot there'll be nae bother comin' up wi' them; an' a wheen o' them will just naturally follow on fae the rules we've already set oot."

"Whit's still left for us tae dae then, wi' the laws?" says he.

"Naething for us," says I; "but for Apollo, the God o' Delphi, there's still the decidin' o' the biggest an' noblest an' maist important things o' aw."

"Whilk are they?" says he.

"Settin' up temples an' sacrifices, an' the hail service o' gods, demigods, an' heroes; an' awso decidin' whit tae dae wi' the places o' the dead, an' the rituals that need tae be followed bi somebody that wants tae appease the fowk that bide doon belaw. Thir are things we oorsels are ignorant aboot, an' as foonders o' a city it wid be daft o' us tae trust them tae ony interpreter but oor ain god fae back in the history. He's the god that sits in the middle, on the navel o' the earth, an' he's the interpreter o' religion for aw o' humanity."

"Ye're richt," says he, "an' we'll dae whit ye propose.

But whaur, amang aw this, is justice? Son o' Ariston, tell me whaur it is. Noo that oor state is habitable, licht a candle an' hae a look, an' get yer brither an' Polemarchus an' the rest o' oor weans tae help, an' let's see whaur in it we can find justice an' whaur injustice is, an' hoo they differ fae ilk ither, an' whilk yin o' them the fella that wants tae be happy shoud hae for his share, whether it's seen or no seen bi gods an' fowk."

‍