Chapter XVIII: Book VIII: Argument

The mode of rightly governing a state having been duly set forth, Plato
in the _eighth book_ treats of the bad government which he had
previously designated as ἀδικία. Having mentioned then three
principal forms of government, monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy,
he shows in this and also the following book the excesses and
defects peculiar to each. He considers these faults in two lights;
first, as affecting the manners of _the citizens individually_; and,
secondly, those of the state collectively. Aristocracy, says he, is
apt to verge into oligarchy,—democracy into ochlarchy, and monarchy
into τιμαρχία and tyranny. The two former classes only are treated
in this book.

CHAP. I.—Well then, Glaucon, these things have been agreed on, that in a state that is to be perfectly administered the women are to be in common, the children in common, and their education also,—so likewise their employments both in war and peace in common, and their kings the best possible both in philosophy and warfare. It has been so agreed, he replied. And this, moreover, we agreed on, that when the commanders are appointed and leading their soldiers, they should dwell in habitations, such as we have described, containing nothing particularly belonging to any individual, but common to all; and besides these habitations, we agreed also, if you recollect, as to their possessions, to what sort they should be entitled. Aye, I recollect, said he, that we thought them entitled to no possessions whatever, like the other citizens, but that, like military wrestlers and guardians, they should receive the yearly pay of their service in maintenance provided by the rest, and should take care both of themselves and the rest of the state. You say rightly, said I:—but come,—since we have settled these matters, let us recollect from what point we made this digression, in order that we may again take up the same argument. No hard matter, said he;—for you were pursuing much about the same argument respecting the state, as you did just now, when saying that you considered such a state to be good as you then described, and the individual man also analogous thereto,—and this, too, as it seems, when you were able to define both a better state and a better man. You said, moreover, that all the rest were wrong, if this were right;—and of the other kinds of states you said, I remember, that four were deserving of consideration, with the view of seeing the errors therein and the people thereto corresponding,—in order that by seeing all these and deciding on the best and worst man, we might inquire whether the best be the happiest, and the worst the most wretched or otherwise:—and when I inquired which were the four kinds of states to which you referred, on this Polemarchus and Adimantus interrupted us;[228] and so now resuming the subject you have arrived at this point. You have recollected it, said I, with great accuracy. Once more then, like a wrestler, furnish me with the same handle; and when I ask the same question, try to say just what you were then about to tell me. Aye, said I, if I can. Moreover, said he, I am anxious also myself to hear what those four kinds of states were. You shall hear that, and welcome, said I:—for, of those which I can mention and which have names,—that praised by the multitude is the Cretan and Lacedæmonian polity,—the second, and that which deserves the second praise, called oligarchy, a polity full of abundant evils,—that which differs from it, and follows next in order, democracy,—and then genuine tyranny, [or monarchy,] differing from all the others, the fourth and last ailment of the state:—surely you have no other form of polity, having a distinct and established species?—for small principalities and purchased kingdoms, and such-like polities as these, are of an intermediate class, and may be found no less among barbarians than Greeks. Aye, indeed, said he;—many are mentioned, and those, too, absurd enough.

-----

Footnote 228:

This refers to the interruption at the beginning of the fifth book,
when, Socrates being about to describe the four kinds of wickedness in
both individuals and states, was desired to develop his notions about
the community of women and children.

-----

CHAP. II.—Do you know, then, said I, that of men there are as many descriptions as of states?—or do you think that states, somehow or other, spring out of an oak or a rock, and not out of the habits of those in the state, whither, indeed, everything else must verge and be attracted? I, for my part, think it is derived from no other source than that. In that case, if there be five kinds of states, the intellectual distinctions of the individuals will be five likewise. Of course. As for the person then, who resembles an aristocracy, we have already described him, and rightly pronounced him to be both good and just. Aye, we have described him. Are we then, in the next place, to argue about the inferior,—the contentious and ambitious man formed according to the Spartan model, and him again, who resembles an oligarchy, or a democracy, or a tyranny, in order that we may contemplate the most unjust, and contrast him with the most just, and thus our inquiry may be complete, how unmingled justice stands in opposition to unmingled injustice, as respects the happiness or misery of its possessor,—thus either pursuing injustice in compliance with Thrasymachus’s suggestion, or else justice in compliance with our present argument? We must do so, by all means, said he. Are we then, just as we began, to consider moral habits in states primarily, or rather in private individuals, as being there more clearly developed; and now must we not thus first consider the ambitious republic (for I cannot call it by any other term, but only denominate it a timocracy or a timarchy), and in connexion with it an individual of the same character,—then again an oligarchy and a man of oligarchical character,—and so also, when considering a democracy, must we contemplate a democratic person,—and, fourthly, coming to a state governed by a tyrant, consider a person of tyrannical disposition;—thus trying to become competent judges about what we proposed? According to reason, indeed, such should be both our view and decision.

CHAP. III.—Come then, said I;—let us try to show in what way a timocracy arises out of an aristocracy:—is it not plain, at any rate, that every government changes through the agency of that portion which holds the public offices, whenever sedition arises in that particular part; whereas, if it only agree with itself, however small the state, it cannot possibly be disturbed? Such is the case. How then, Glaucon, said I, will our state be disturbed and how will our allies and rulers fall into quarrels with each other and amongst themselves:—do you wish, like Homer, that we implore the muses to tell us how first sedition rose, and address them in tragic fashion, as if we were children, playing and jesting, so to speak, with seriousness uttering lofty language? How so? Somehow thus:—it is hard indeed for a state thus constituted to become disturbed;—but, as everything generated is liable to corruption, not even such a constitution as this can abide for ever, but must be dissolved:—and its dissolution is as follows.—Not only as regards terrestrial plants, but likewise terrestrial animals, a fertility and sterility both of soul and body take place, when the revolutions of the heavenly bodies complete the periphery of their respective orbits, which are shorter to the shorter-lived, and contrariwise to the contrary: and with reference to the fertility and sterility of your race, though those are wise whom you have trained as governors of the state, yet they will never, by intellect and sense united, observe the proper season for procreation, but let it slip by, and sometimes generate children when they ought not.—To that, however, which is divinely generated, there is a period which is comprehended by the perfect number; whereas, to that generated by man, there is one, in which the augmentations, both surpassing and surpassed, after having received three separations and four boundaries of things similar and dissimilar, increasing and decreasing, will render all things correspondent and rational;—of which the sesquiternian root, conjoined with the pentad and thrice increased, affords two harmonies,—one of these, the equally equal, just a hundred times as much;—while the other, of equal length indeed, but of oblong shape, is of a hundred numbers from effable diameters of the pentad, each wanting one, two of which are irrational and of a hundred cubes of the triad.—And the whole of this geometric number is, having such an influence, concerned with worse and better generations.[229] Now, if our governors be ignorant of this, and join our couples together unseasonably, the children will neither possess talent, nor be fortunate either; and though former governors should have placed the best of them in office, nevertheless as they are unworthy of it, and only come into the power which their fathers had, they will begin to neglect us in their guardianship, holding music first of all, and then gymnastics in less esteem than they ought, and hence our young men will become too little disposed to music;—in consequence of which the governors to be appointed from among them will not be very clever guardians, as respects proving, according to Hesiod and ourselves, what are the several species of talents, the golden, the silver, the brazen, and the iron. Where iron, however, mingles with silver, and brass with gold, then there arises a dissimilitude and unharmonious unevenness;—(and when this is the case, wherever it prevails, it perpetually generates war and hatred;)—we must say that sedition belongs to such a race as this, whenever it arises. Aye,—and we shall say that the answer was correctly given, replied he. Aye, and it must be so too, said I—as they are Muses. What then, said he, do the Muses say next? Sedition having once arisen, said I, two classes of genius,—the iron and the brazen, will be allured to gain, and the acquisition of land and houses, gold and silver,—while the golden and silver, not being in poverty but naturally rich, will lead souls to virtue and their original constitution; whereas, should they be violent and strive one against the other, they would agree to divide their lands and houses as individual possessions; and then, enslaving those formerly guarded by them as freemen, friends, and tutors, keep them as denizens and slaves, themselves providing for war and their own protection. This revolution, said he, seems to me to have just this origin. Will not then this government, said I, be a medium between aristocracy and oligarchy? Certainly.

-----

Footnote 229:

This passage, descriptive of the geometric or fatal number, has
baffled the ingenuity of every commentator. Any literal translation is
little better than nonsense, and any explanation would be too long for
a mere note. The views of Baroccius, Schneider, &c. are given in a
dissertation at the end of the volume;—but they are all far from
satisfactory.

-----

CHAP. IV.—Thus then will the revolution be effected, and when it has taken place, what arrangement will then be made?—Is it not plain, that in some things they will follow the pattern of the former republic, and in others oligarchy, as halfway between the two, and having something also peculiar to itself? Just so, he replied. Will they, then, in honouring their rulers, in allowing their military to abstain from agriculture, as with us from mechanical and other money-making pursuits, in establishing common meals, and in studying both gymnastics and military contests,—in all these things will they not follow the pattern of the last form of government? Yes. But, through the fear of admitting wise men into the magisterial office, inasmuch as the state no longer possesses men who are simple and resolute, but only such as are of a mixed character,—and through an inclination towards the high-spirited and even simple, naturally more suited for war than peace, and also towards those who are clever at tricks and schemes, spending their whole time in continual war;—in all these respects, will it not possess many such things as are peculiar to itself? Yes. And such as these, said I, will ever be lovers of wealth, just like those in oligarchies, and will have a wild though disguised love for gold and silver, as if they possessed treasuries of their own and domestic storehouses in which to hoard and hide them,—and circularly-enclosed houses also,—nests as it were wholly their own, in which they can lose and spend much, together with their own wives and such others as they fancy. Most true, said he. Well then,—will they not from their love of wealth be sparing of it also, though not openly acquiring it, but disposed to squander other people’s property through lustful desire and secret indulgence in pleasure;—just as children escaping from parental law, who have been brought up not by persuasion but force, owing to their neglect of the true muse, which unites reasoning and philosophy and the preference also which they give to gymnastics over music? It is quite a mixed government, said he, of which you are now speaking,—compounded of good and ill. Aye, mixed indeed, said I:—but the most remarkable thing in it is what simply arises from the prevalence of high spirit,—contention and ambition. Aye, just so, said he. Such then is the origin and character of this form of government, if one may ideally sketch it without giving a complete description,—though enough for us to see from this sketch,—who is the just and the unjust man; and it were a work of tedious length to argue on all governments and all the various manners of men without any exception whatever. Quite right, said he.

CHAP. V.—What then will the individual be, who corresponds to this form of government;—how did he become so: and what is his nature? I think indeed, said Adimantus, he has a tendency to be like this Glaucon here, as far at least as concerns the love of contention. Perhaps so, said I, as to this particular;—but I think, that in these respects he cannot at all resemble him. How? He must necessarily, said I, be more self-willed, and somewhat unapt to music, though fond of it; and fond of hearing, but by no means a rhetorician:—such an one will be rough towards the slaves, without despising them, as the man does who is fairly educated. He will be polite towards the free, submissive to governors, a lover of dominion and honour,—not thinking it proper to govern by eloquence or anything of the kind, but by political management and military achievements, being a lover of gymnastics and hunting. This indeed, said he, is the spirit of that form of government. And will not such an one, said I, despise money during his youth, but the older he grows, always value it the more, because he partakes of the covetous disposition, and is not sincerely affected towards virtue, because destitute of the best guardian? Of what guardian? said Adimantus. Reason, said I, accompanied with music, which being the only inbred preservative of virtue, dwells with the possessor through the whole of life. You say well, he replied. And surely the timocratic youth, said I, resembles such a state. Certainly. And such an one, said I, is somehow thus formed.—He may happen perhaps to be the youthful son of a worthy father, dwelling in an ill-governed state, and shunning public honours, magisterial offices, lawsuits, and all such public business, content to live neglected in obscurity, that he may have no trouble. In what manner then, said he, is he formed? First of all, said I, when he hears his mother complaining that her husband is not in magisterial office, and that she is on this account neglected among other women, and then sees that he is not over attentive to the acquisition of wealth, and does not wrangle and quarrel privately and publicly in the law courts, but on all these occasions acts indolently;—and when she perceives him always attentive to himself, and treating her neither with extreme respect nor contempt;—on all these accounts, she is filled with indignation, and tells her son that his father is unmanly, extremely careless, and whatever else wives are wont to chant about such matters. Aye,—many things, truly, said Adimantus, and quite in accordance with their spirit.—And you know, said I, that the domestics likewise of such families, such of them as would be thought good-natured, sometimes say privately the very same to the sons; and if they see either a debtor whom the father does not sue, or any one otherwise acting unjustly, they exhort him to punish all such persons when he comes to manhood, and to be more of a man than his father.—And when he goes abroad, he hears other such-like things, and sees also that such in the state as attend to their own affairs are called simple, and held in little esteem, while such as do not attend to their affairs are both honoured and commended.—The youth then who hears and sees all this, and then again hears his father’s speeches, and closely observes his pursuits in contrast with those of others, is drawn in two opposite directions,—his father irrigating and promoting the growth of his rational part, and the others his passions and high spirit;—and so, being not naturally bad, but spoiled only by evil connexion with others, he is brought to a mean between both and delivers up the government within himself to a middle power,—the love of contention and high spirit:—and so he becomes a haughty and ambitious man. I think, said he, you have quite correctly explained the training of such a person.—We have here then, said I, the second form of government and the second individual. Aye,—we have, said he.

CHAP. VI.—Shall we not then after this say with Æschylus,—

Where state to state,—then each to each incline;—

or rather, shall we, according to our plan, establish the state first? Certainly, he replied. It would be an oligarchy then, methinks, that would succeed such a government as this. But what constitution is it, said he, that you call an oligarchy? That government, said I, which is founded on the estimate of men’s property;—in which the rich rule, and the poor have no share in the government. Aye,—I understand, said he. Should we not, first of all explain, how the change is made from a timocracy to an oligarchy? We should. And surely the way, in which this change is made, said I, is manifest even to the blind! How? That treasury, said I, which each one fills with gold destroys such a state; for, first of all, they discover for themselves modes of expense, for which they set aside the laws,—both themselves and their wives disobeying them. Very likely, said he, and afterwards, I think, when one observes another, and enters into rivalry, the people generally become of this character. It is likely. And thence then, said I, as they advance in the intensity of the desire for acquiring wealth, the more honourable they account this, the more dishonourable will they deem virtue;—for is not virtue so at variance with wealth, that, supposing each to be placed at the opposite end of a balance, they would always weigh the one against the other? Justly so, he replied. While wealth then and the wealthy are honoured in the state, both virtue and good men must necessarily be held in dishonour? It is plain. And what is honoured is always pursued, while what is dishonoured is neglected? Just so. Instead then of being contentious and ambitious men, they have at last become lovers of gain and wealth;—and the rich they praise and admire, elevating them to the magistracy, while the poor man they quite despise. Certainly. And do they not enact laws, marking out the boundary of the oligarchal constitution, and regulating the quantity of oligarchal power by the quantity of wealth,—allotting more to the more wealthy and less to those less so, intimating that he who has not the amount settled by law can have no share in the government;—and do they not settle these matters compulsorily, by force of arms, establishing such a state after previous intimidation?—Is it not thus? Aye, indeed. This then, so to speak, is its constitution? Yes, replied he. What then is the nature of the government, and what are the faults thereto ascribed? First of all, said I, of this very thing, the constitution itself, what think you?—for consider, if a person were thus to appoint pilots of ships, by the amount of their property never intrusting one of them with a poor man, though better skilled in piloting,—what would then be the consequence? They would make a very bad voyage, he replied. And is it not the same about any other matter, or any presiding office whatever? I think so. Is it always so, except in a state, said I; or is it so as regards a state likewise? There, beyond all others, said he; inasmuch as it is the most difficult, and most important kind of government. Oligarchy then would seem to have this unquestionably very great fault. So it seems. But what;—is this no less a fault? What? That such a state is not integrally one, but necessarily two; one containing the poor, and the other the rich, dwelling in one place and always plotting against one another. By Zeus, said he, not a whit less;—and this besides is a fine thing,—the incapacity of waging war, through the necessity, either of employing the armed multitude, who are to be dreaded more than the enemy themselves, or else refusing to employ them at all, and so appearing quite oligarchical in battle,—being unwilling also to advance money for the public service, through a natural disposition to covetousness? This is not well. What then;—with reference to what we long ago condemned,—engaging in a variety of pursuits, the same persons in such a state giving their attendance all at once to agriculture, money-making, and military affairs; does this seem right? Not at all, of course.

CHAP. VII.—Let us see, then,—does this form of government above all others introduce this greatest of all evils? What is that? The permission to each person of selling the whole of his effects, and to another of purchasing them from him, and the privilege to the seller of dwelling in our state, though he belongs to no one class therein, and can be called neither a money-maker, nor mechanic, nor horseman, nor foot-soldier, but poor and destitute. Yes, above all others, he replied. Such a thing is not prevented in oligarchal governments; for, in that case some of them would not be over-rich, and others altogether poor. Right. But consider this likewise;—when such a rich man as this spends his property, would it do the state any more service, as regards the objects just mentioned; or did he only seem to be one of the magistrates, while in truth he was neither magistrate nor servant to the state, but only a consumer of its substance? Aye,—he did seem so, he replied;—he was nothing but a consumer. Do you desire, then, said I, that we should say of him, that, as a drone in a beehive brings ailment among the whole swarm, just so, such a person as this, like a drone in his house, is the ailment of a state? Quite so, Socrates, he replied. And has not God, Adimantus, made all the winged drones without any sting,—and those that have feet, some without stings, and some with dreadful stings?—And do not those that are without stings continue poor to old age:—whereas those that have stings, are those that we called mischievous? Most true, said he. It is plain then, said I, that in a state where you would observe poor people, there are doubtless concealed thieves, cutpurses, sacrilegious persons, and workers of all such evils. Evidently so, said he. What then? Do not you find poor people in states that are placed under oligarchal government? Almost all are so, said he, except the governors themselves. And do we not think, said I, that they contain within them many mischievous persons with stings, whom the magistrates must restrain by vigilance and compulsory measures? We do indeed think so, said he. And must we not say, that it is through want of education, bad nurture, and a corrupt constitution of state, that persons of this character are here engendered? Yes we must. Well then, is not the state oligarchally governed when under an oligarchy of this character; and is it not affected by all these evils, and probably more too? It is nearly so, said he. Let us distinguish then this form of government likewise, said I, which they call oligarchy, as one having its governors [elected] according to the valuation of their property.

CHAP. VIII.—Next let us consider the man who is analogous to this [form of government,] how he is formed and what is his character. By all means, said he. Is it not thus then chiefly that the individual man changes from the timocratic to the oligarchic form? How? When such an one has a son, he, first of all, emulates his father, and follows his steps; afterwards, when he sees him suddenly dashed on the state [like a ship] on a rock, squandering his property and ruining himself, either at the head of the army, or in some other high magisterial office,—then falling into the law-courts, ruined by public informers, and either put to death, or exiled, and stripped of his honours and entire property. It is likely, said he. Aye, my friend, and after seeing and suffering this, and losing his property, he instantly, through fear, I think, pushes headlong from the throne within his soul, his ambitious, lofty temper, and at length, humbled by poverty, turns his attention to gain, lives meanly and sparingly, and by hard labour acquires wealth;—do you not think that such a man will seat on that throne in his soul a covetous and money-loving spirit, making it a mighty king within himself, and girding it, as it were, with tiaras, and bracelets, and sceptres? I think so, said he. But, as for the principles of reason and high spirit, having laid them both at his feet on either side as mere slaves, he forbids the one to reason at all, or at any rate to inquire into aught else, except by what means a smaller amount of property can be made greater; and the other, again, to admire and honour anything but riches and the rich, and to receive honour with any other view than the acquisition of money, or whatever else may tend thereto. There is no change, said he, so sudden and powerful as that of an ambitious to an avaricious man. Is not this, then, said I, the oligarchic man? Aye—the change which he undergoes is from a person who resembles that government from which oligarchy arises. Shall we consider, now, if he does at all resemble it? Let us consider.

CHAP. IX.—Does he not, in the first place, resemble it in valuing money above all things? Of course he does. And he does so surely in being sparing and laborious, satisfying only his necessary desires, and not allowing himself any other expenses, but subduing the other desires as foolish. Certainly. And in being, said I, a sordid kind of man, making gain of everything, intent on hoarding,—one, such as the multitude extols, will not this be the man that resembles such a form of government? Aye, I think so, he replied: wealth at least must be highly valued by the state, as well as by the individual of such a character. Aye,—for I do not think, said I, that such a man has attended to education. I do not think he has, said he; for he would not then have chosen a blind guide for his chorus.[230] But further still, consider this attentively, said I;—must we not say that, owing to his want of education, dronish desires springing in him, some of them beggarly, and some mischievous, forcibly kept under restraint by the rest of his pursuits? Just so, said he. Do you know, then, said I, where you will best observe their wickedness? Where? said he. [By looking] at their tutelage of orphans, or whatever else of this kind comes in their way, so as to give them much power to do injustice. True. Is not this then quite clear, that in all other kinds of contracts, wherever such an one gains approbation, by the mere semblance of justice, he restrains the other wrong desires within him by exercising a certain moderation, not from any persuasion that it is not better to indulge them, nor from sober reason, but from necessity and fear, because he trembles for the remainder of his property? Certainly, said he. Aye, by Zeus, said I, my friend, most of them, when they want to spend the property of others, display passions much akin to those of drones. Yes, exceedingly so, observed he. Such a person as this, then, will not be free from internal discord; nor be integrally one, but a kind of double man; possessing desires, however, that are at variance with one another, the better, usually, governing the worse. It is so. On these accounts, then, such an one, methinks, will present a better appearance than many others; though the true virtue of a harmonized and consistent soul will wholly escape him. Aye, it seems so. And the sparing man, either privately or in the state, will be but a poor rival, as regards any victory or other struggle for honour; because either for reputation’s sake, or any such contests, he is unwilling to spend his property, through fear of kindling expensive desires, and calling them into alliance or rivalry;—and warring, as he does, in oligarchic fashion, with only a few of his resources, he is in most cases defeated, though he still contrives to get rich. Quite so, replied he. Can we any longer hesitate, said I, to rank the niggard and the money-maker as resembling a state under an oligarchy? By no means, said he.

-----

Footnote 230:

Allusion is here made to Plutus, the god of riches,—who is usually
represented blind. The word χοροῦ, which is the reading of the best
MSS., refers to the noisy crowd of desires that hurry a man through
life.

-----

CHAP. X.—Democracy, as it seems, must next be considered,—how it arises, and when once arisen, what kind of man it produces;—in order that understanding the nature of such a man, we may at once bring him to trial. Yes, said he;—that would be our consistent course. Well then, said I, is not the change from oligarchy to democracy produced in some such way as this,—through the insatiable desire of the proposed good, viz. the desire of becoming as rich as possible? How? Inasmuch as its governors govern through the possession of great wealth, they will have no wish, methinks, to restrain by law the profligate portion of the young men from squandering and wasting their property at pleasure; because, by purchasing such persons’ effects, and lending on usury, they will not only be still more enriched, but held in higher repute. Far more so than any other. This, then, is already quite clear in our state, that to honour riches, and at the same time practise temperance, is impossible, since either the one or the other must necessarily be neglected. Of course, that is quite plain, said he. While, therefore, they are neglectful in oligarchies, and allow the youths to indulge in licentiousness, they must necessarily sometimes bring men to poverty, even those that are not ignoble. Quite so. And these, I suppose, stand in our state both spurred, and in armour; some in debt, others in disgrace, others in both, hating and conspiring against those who have got what belonged to them, and against others also, for mere love of change. Aye, such is the case. These usurers, however, bent on their own interests, and apparently unobservant of these, wound all that ever yield to them by advancing them money, and so, by getting multiplied interest for the parent principal,[231] fill the state with many a drone and pauper. Aye, with many a one, he replied. And even when such an evil is raging in the state, said I, they are not willing to extinguish it, not even by restraining people from spending their property at pleasure, nor yet in this way by making another law to destroy such disorders. What law? One that shall follow the other, compelling the citizens to cultivate virtue; for if they were bidden to engage in voluntary contracts chiefly at their own hazard, their usurers would create less scandal in the state, and fewer also of the evils now mentioned would arise therein. Far fewer, said he. At present, however, said I, it is by all these means that the governors in the state thus dispose of the governed; and both as to themselves and those belonging to them, do they not render the youths luxurious and idle as respects all bodily and mental exercises, effeminate in bearing pleasure and pains, and indolent likewise? What else? And as to themselves, they neglect everything but the acquisition of wealth, and pay no more regard to virtue than the poor? No, surely. Having then been thus trained up, when the governors and their subjects are thrown together, either on a journey along the road, or in other meetings, either at public spectacles, or on warlike expeditions, either as fellow-sailors or fellow-soldiers, or when they see one another in real dangers, the poor in this case are by no means despised by the rich;—but very often a robust fellow, poor and sunburnt, whose post in battle is by the side of a rich man bred up in the shade, and swoln with much unnecessary fat,[232] if he should see him panting for breath and in agony,—think you not, he will consider such persons to grow rich to their own injury, and will say to his fellow, when meeting in private, that our rich men are good for nothing? Of course, I well know, said he, that they do so. Well then, as a diseased body needs but the smallest shock from without to give it pain, and is sometimes thrown into disorder without any interference from without, so also the state that resembles it will, on the smallest occasion from without, either when one party forms an alliance with an oligarchal, or the other with a democratic state, become disorded, and fight with itself, and also rise in revolt without any external interference. Yes, certainly. A democracy then, I think, arises, when the poor prevailing over the rich, kill some, and banish others, and share the state-offices and magistracies equally among the remainder; and for the most part the magistracies therein are disposed of by lot. Aye, said he, this is the establishment of a democracy, whether it be effected through force of arms, or from the withdrawal of the other party through fear.

-----

Footnote 231:

The word πατήρ is here used to signify the principal sum (τὸ
κεφάλαιον), from which the interest (τόκοι or τὰ ἔκγονα) are derived.
Comp. b. vi. ch. 18, p. 196.

Footnote 232:

Gr. πολλάκις ἰσχνὸς ἀνὴρ πένης, ἡλιώμενος, παραταχθεὶς ἐν μάχῃ πλουσίῳ
ἐσκιατροφήκοτι, πολλὰς ἔχοντι σάρκας ἀλλοτρίας, &c.

-----

CHAP. XI.—In what way then, said I, do these live,—and what will be the character of this government;—for it is plain, that a man of this kind will appear democratic? It is plain, said he. First, then, are they not free, and is not the state full of freedom of action, and speech, and each one at liberty to do what he pleases? So it is said, he replied. And where there is liberty, every one will evidently regulate his own plan of life just as he pleases? Plainly so. Under such a government especially, methinks, men of all characters will spring up. Of course. This, said I, seems likely to be the best of all governments;—just as a various-coloured robe, embroidered with flowers of all kinds,—so will this appear best, variegated as it is with all sorts of manners. Of course, said he. And perhaps too, said I, the multitude will reckon this the best, just as children and women looking at embroidered dresses. Very likely, said he. Aye, my excellent friend, here is a state in which we may fitly look for a government. How so? Because it comprises all kinds of government on the score of its liberty; and it seems necessary for one that desires to establish a state, as we are now doing, to come to any democratic state, the form of which he likes, as to a general political fair, and establish that which he has chosen. Aye, said he, he would probably be in no want of models. Is not this, said I, a divine and pleasant kind of life for the present,—that there be no need of governing in this state, even though you be able to do so,—nor yet of being a subject, unless you please,—nor of engaging in war because others do,—nor of keeping peace when others keep it, unless you desire peace;—nor again, though there be a law that restrains you from governing or administering justice, yet you no less shall govern and administer justice, if so disposed? It is likely, said he;—in this particular at least. But what; is not their lenience towards some of those who are condemned very polite; and in such a government did you never yet see its lenity towards men condemned to death or banishment, who nevertheless remain there in open intercourse, the banished man, too, returning like a hero as if no one attended to or observed him? Aye, many, he replied. But this indulgence of the state,—not to mention the small regard, and even contempt which it shows for all that we deemed so important when settling our state, as that, unless a man had a most exalted nature,[233] he would never become a good man, except he had from childhood upwards delighted in noble actions, and diligently followed all such pursuits;—how magnanimously does it despise and think as naught all these things, evincing an utter disregard as to the kind of pursuits from which a man comes to engage in politics, though it honours him if he only declares himself well affected towards the multitude? How very generous, he rejoined. These then, said I, and others akin to these, are to be found in democracy; and it seems to be a pleasant sort of government, both anarchical and variegated, distributing a certain equality to all alike, both equals and unequals. Aye, you say, he replied, what is perfectly well known.

-----

Footnote 233:

Gr. ὑπερβεβλημένην φύσιν. Euripides uses a similar expression in the
Alcestis, v. 155:—τί χρὴ γενέσθαι τὴν ὑπερβεβλημένην—γυναῖκα.

-----

CHAP. XII.—Consider then, said I, what kind of man such an one is in private; or shall we first consider, as we did with respect to the government, in what manner he is formed? Yes, said he. Is he not then formed in this manner,—namely, from the parsimonious man who was under the oligarchy,—as a son, trained up under his father according to his habits? Of course. Such an one forcibly governs his own pleasures,—such as are expensive, but not tending to the acquisition of wealth, which are hence called unnecessary. It is plain, said he. That we may not argue in the dark then, said I, let us first, if you please, determine what desires are necessary, and what are not. Willingly, said he. May not such be justly called necessary, which we cannot get rid of, and the gratification of which does us service? For both these kinds our nature must necessarily seek after; must it not? Quite so. This then, we may justly say, is a necessary part to these desires? Justly. But what now? Such desires as a man may relinquish, if he try to do so from his youth, and which while they remain, do no good, if we say of these that they are not necessary, shall we not say right? Right, indeed. Let us select a pattern of each, that we may understand from example what they are. Quite right. Is not the desire of eating necessary so far as is conducive to health and a good habit of body, and the desire of food and victuals? I think so. The desire of food, at least, is necessary on two accounts, as being advantageous in itself, and because the want of it must bring life to an end.[234] It is. And the desire of victuals is likewise necessary, as contributing towards a good habit of body. Certainly. But what?—even such desire as goes beyond these things, or any other sorts of meats, and yet can be curbed from youth, and trained to abstain from most things, and which is hurtful both to body and soul as regards the attainment of wisdom and temperance, may not that be rightly called unnecessary? Most rightly, indeed. May we not say then that these too are expensive, and the others frugal, as they conduce towards the actions of life? Of course. We may speak in the same manner, surely, of venereal, and the other desires? In the same manner. And did we not, by him whom we just now called the drone, indicate a person full of such desires and pleasures, and governed by those that are unnecessary; but one governed by those merely necessary, a parsimonious man, and disposed to an oligarchy? Without doubt.

-----

Footnote 234:

Gr. ᾗ τε ὠφέλιμος σῖτος, ᾗ τε παῦσαι ζῶντα δυνατή,—i.e. if there be no
sufficient supply,—the general meaning being, that the desire for food
is not only useful, but indispensable to the maintenance of life.

-----

CHAP. XIII.—Let us again mention, said I, how the democratic man arises out of the oligarchic; and to me he appears to arise chiefly thus. How? When a young man brought up, as we now mentioned, without proper instruction, and in niggard fashion, comes to taste the drones’ honey, and associates with those fiery, terrible creatures who can procure all sorts and varieties of pleasures, and from every quarter;—then you may conceive, he somehow begins to change the oligarchic for the democratic character. It must be so, he observed. Well then, just as the state was changed by the aid of another party from without to which it was related, is not the youth so changed likewise, through the aid of one species of desires from without, to others within him, which resemble them and are allied thereto? By all means. And methinks, if any alliance should come to counteract the oligarchic principle within him, either through his father or other relatives, admonishing and upbraiding him, then truly will arise sedition, opposition, and an internal struggle against himself. Undoubtedly. And sometimes, indeed, I think the democratic yields to the oligarchic principle, and some of the desires are destroyed, while others retire, because a certain modesty is engendered in the youth’s soul, and he is again restored to order. This is sometimes the case, said he. And again, I suppose, when some desires retire, others allied to them secretly grow up, which through neglect of parental instruction, become both many and powerful. This is usually the case, said he. They draw them then towards the same intimacies as before, and through their connexions secretly generate a multitude? What else? And in the end, I think, they seize the citadel of the youth’s soul, because they find it empty, as regards virtuous pursuits and true reasoning,—the best guardians and preservers of the rational part of men dear to the gods. Just so, said he. And then, indeed false and arrogant reasonings and opinions rush up in their stead, and take their place in such people. Assuredly, said he. And does he not then come once more, and dwell openly among those Lotophagi?[235]—And if any aid come from intimate friends to strengthen the parsimonious principle within him, these said arrogant reasonings, by shutting against it the gates of the royal wall, neither permit the alliance itself, nor allow the ambassadorial admonitions of individual old men, but struggle against them and maintain themselves in power;—and as for modesty, they call it stupidity, and thrust it out into disgraceful exile, while temperance they call unmanliness, load it with abuse, and then expel it;—and as for moderation and decent expense, they persuade themselves that they are nothing else but rusticity and illiberality, and banish them from their territories, with many other unprofitable desires. Assuredly, they do. Having emptied and purified from all these desires, the soul, thus held by them, and initiated in the great mysteries,[236] they next introduce with encomiums and false eulogies, indolence and anarchy, extravagance and shamelessness, shining with a great retinue, and wearing crowns,—calling insolence, good-breeding,—anarchy, liberty,—luxury, magnificence,—and impudence, manliness. Is it not, said I, somehow thus,—that a youth, after being bred up with necessary desires falls away into the license and dissoluteness induced by needless and unprofitable pleasures? Yes, plainly so, he replied. Such an one, then, methinks, thenceforth passes his life, spending his property, labour, and time as much on necessary as unnecessary pleasures, but if he be fortunate and not unusually excited by passion, he, as he advances in years, and the sovereignty of the passions is subdued, re-admits part of those expelled, and does not deliver himself wholly up to mere intruders, but regulates his pleasures on the principle of equality, and so lives, giving himself up to each incidental desire that happens to rule him, till he is sated,—and then another, undervaluing none, but indulging all alike. Quite so, of course. And yet such an one, said I, will not listen to true reasoning, nor admit it into his stronghold,—should he be told that some pleasures are attached to honourable and virtuous desires, others to those that are depraved, and that he should pursue and honour the former, but chastise and hold captive the latter,—but in all these cases will dissent, and say that they are all alike, and to be held in equal honour. Assuredly, said he, one thus affected, does this. Well then, said I, thus does he daily live, gratifying every incidental desire, sometimes getting drunk to the sound of the flute, at others temperately drinking water,—at others, again exercising gymnastics; sometimes indolent and wholly careless; then again applying, as it were, to philosophy,—often too acting the politician, saying and doing by skips and jumps whatever comes first:—and if he would imitate any of the military tribe, thither he is carried; if the mercantile, then again thither; nor is his life regulated by any plan or law, but, deeming this particular life pleasant, and free, and blessed, he follows it throughout. You have most fully described, said he, the life of the man who places all laws on a level. I at least am of opinion, said I, that he is multiform, and filled with different habits; like the state, too, he is handsome and of varied complexion, a man whose life many men and women would emulate, because he contains within himself numerous patterns both of forms of government and moral habits. He does, said he. What then? Have we then so described and arranged such an one on the principles of democracy, as that he may be truly called one of democratic character. We will allow that it has, said he.

-----

Footnote 235:

These Lotophagi are described by Homer, Odyss. ix. 94, &c.

Footnote 236:

Allusion is here made to the Eleusinian mysteries, which after certain
lustrations and sacrifices, were successively communicated to those in
course of initiation,—first, the lesser mysteries (μικρὰ τέλη), and
six months subsequently, the greater (τὰ μεγάλα τέλη).

-----

CHAP. XIV.[237]—It still remains, however, that we discuss, said I, that most excellent form of government and that most excellent man,—tyranny and the tyrant. Surely, said he. Come then, my dear fellow;—what is the manner in which tyranny arises?—for it is almost plain, that it is a change from democracy. Plain. Does not tyranny arise in the same manner from democracy, as democracy does from oligarchy? How—as respects the good then, which oligarchy proposed to itself, and according to which it was constituted; was it not with a view of becoming extremely rich? Yes. An insatiable desire then for riches, and a neglect of all besides, through attention to the acquisition of wealth, destroys it. True, said he. And with reference to what democracy denominates good, an insatiable thirst for it destroys it likewise? But what say you, it denominates as good? Liberty, said I:—for this, you are told, is best found in a state under democratic rule, and hence any one naturally free would choose to dwell in this alone. This word liberty, said he, is vastly much talked about. Well then, observed I, as I was just going to say, does not the insatiable desire for this, and the neglect of other things, change even the form of government, and prepare it to need a tyrant? How? said he. When a state, said I, is under democratic rule, thirsts after liberty, and happens to have bad cupbearers appointed it, and gets immoderately drunk with an unmixed draught thereof, it punishes even the governors, unless they be quite tame-spirited, and allow them excessive liberty, by accusing them of being corrupt and oligarchical. They do so, said he. But such as obey the magistrates, said I, it abuses as willing and good-for-nothing slaves; both publicly and in private they commending and honouring magistrates who resemble subjects, and subjects who resemble magistrates: must it not happen in such a state, that we must necessarily arrive at the acme of liberty? Of course. And must it not descend, too, my friend, said I, into private families, and at last reach even the brutes? How, said he, can we assert aught like this? For instance, said I, when a father gets used to become like his child, and fears his sons, and the son [in like manner] his father, and has neither respect nor fear of his parents, in order, forsooth, that he may be free;—and thus a mere resident is placed on a level with a citizen, and a resident with a stranger, and so likewise a foreigner. Just so, said he. Aye, these indeed happen, said I, and other similar little things also:—and in such cases a teacher fears and flatters his scholars, and the scholars despise their teachers, and so also their tutors; and on the whole the youths resemble those more advanced in years, and rival them both in speech and action: while the old men sit down with the young, and imitate them in their love of merriment and pleasantry, for fear of appearing morose and despotic. Quite so, of course, replied he. But as to this extreme liberty of the multitude, said I, what a height it attains in a state like this, where purchased slaves, male or female, are no less free than their purchasers, and how much equality and liberty wives enjoy with their husbands, and husbands with their wives,—this we have almost forgotten to mention. Are we not then to say, according to Æschylus, he observed, whatever now comes into our mouth? By all means, said I; and accordingly I thus speak:—with reference even to brutes, such as are under the care of men, how much more free they are in such a state; he who has no experience thereof will not easily believe—for according to the proverb, even dogs resemble their mistresses;[238] and horses and asses are used to run about at large, surlily driving against whomsoever they meet, unless they get out of their way; and many other such-like things happen, that indicate an abundance of liberty. You are just telling me my dream, said he, for this has often happened to me when going into the country. But do you observe, said I, when all these things are collected together in a whole, that they make the soul of the citizens so sensitive, that if they were any how to be brought into slavery, they would be indignant and not endure it;—for in the end, you know, they regard laws neither written nor unwritten, and hence no one will by any means become their master? I know it well, said he.

-----

Footnote 237:

A large portion of this and the following chapter will be found
rendered into Latin in Cicero de Republ. i. ch. 43, 44.

Footnote 238:

The proverb here alluded to runs thus, according to the
scholiast:—οἱάπερ ἡ δέσποινα, τοία χἁ κύων. The adage from Æschylus,
somewhat above, is of an origin equally unknown.

-----

CHAP. XV.—This then, said I, my friend, I suppose, is that government so beautiful and youthful, whence tyranny springs. Youthful, indeed, he replied; but what then? The same malady, said I, that existed in an oligarchy, destroys this form likewise; rising also to a higher pitch of power, and enslaving the democracy by its very licentiousness; for, in fact, the doing of anything to excess usually causes great change in an opposite direction: and so it is in the seasons, as in vegetable and animal bodies, and so also not least of all in forms of government. Probably so, said he. Aye, for excessive liberty seems only to degenerate into excessive slavery, either in private individuals or states. It is probable, indeed. Probably then, said I, tyranny is established out of no other form than democracy;—out of the highest degree of liberty, methinks, the greatest and fiercest slavery. Yes, it is reasonable, said he. This, however, methinks, said I, was not what you asked:—but what is that same disease which arises in an oligarchy and a democracy, and reduces each to slavery? Your remark is true, replied he. I meant, said I, that there was a race of idle and profuse men, the bravest of whom were the leaders, and the more cowardly their followers, whom indeed we compared to drones; some to those with stings, others to those without stings. Rightly too, said he. These two now, said I, when they spring up in a government, disturb it, just like phlegm and bile in a natural body,—and against these it is the duty of a wise physician and lawgiver of a state, no less than of a wise bee-master, to take much fore-caution,—first, that they never gain admittance;—and if they should enter, that they be as soon as possible cut off, with their cells as well. Yes, by Zeus, said he; altogether so.

CHAP. XVI.—Let us thus then conceive the matter, said I, that we may more distinctly see what we want. How? Let us ideally divide a democratic state into three parts, as it in fact is; for some such classification is natural to it, owing to its liberty, no less than to an oligarchy. It is so. Yet it is much more fierce at least in this than in the former. How? In an oligarchy, from not being held in honour, but excluded from the magisterial office, it is unexercised and gains no strength;—but in a democracy it is, with a few exceptions, the presiding party, the fiercest of them ever talking and agitating, while the rest bustle about at the law-courts, and cannot endure any one else to speak differently from itself; and thus all things, with only a few exceptions, under such a government, are managed by a party. Very much the case, said he. Some other party, then, is always separated from the multitude. Which? While the general body are engaged in the pursuit of gain, such as are naturally the most temperate generally become the wealthiest. Very probably. And hence is it, methinks, that the greatest quantity of honey, and what comes with the greatest ease, is pressed out of these by the drones. Yes,—for how, said he, can any one press it from those who have but little? Such wealthy people, I think, are called the pasture of the drones. Nearly so, replied he. And the people will be a sort of third species,—such as mind their own affairs, without meddling with others, who have little property, but are yet the most numerous, and most prevailing in a democracy, whenever it is densely populated. It is so; but this it will not often consent to do without getting some share of the honey. This class, of course, always obtains a share, said I, as far as their leaders are able, by robbing those that have property, and giving it to the people, in order that they may eat most themselves. Aye, said he, that is the way in which these become sharers. These, then, are obliged to defend themselves. Those thus despoiled are compelled to defend themselves, saying and doing all they can among the people. Of course. And though they have no inclination to introduce a change of government, they are charged with forming plots and plans against the common people, and being oligarchally disposed. What next? After seeing that the people, not willingly, but through ignorance and the impositions of these slanderers, attempt to injure them, do they not then, indeed, even against their wills, become truly oligarchic?—though not spontaneously, for this very mischief is generated by the drone that stings them. Quite so. And so they lay informations, make lawsuits, and have contests one with another. Very much so. And are not the people always used to place some one in special presidency over themselves, and to cherish him, and promote him to great power? They are. And this, said I, is plain, that whenever a tyrant rises, it is from the fact of thus presiding, and nothing else, that he flourishes. This is very clear. How, then, begins the change from a president into a tyrant?—is it not clearly when the president begins to do the same as is told in the fable, about the temple of the Lycean Zeus, to whom the wolf was dedicated in Arcadia? What is that? said he. That whoever tastes human entrails mixed with those of other offerings, must necessarily become a wolf:—have you not heard the story? I have. Well, then, supposing him to be thus the president of the people, and having to deal with an extremely compliant multitude, he should not refrain from shedding even kindred blood, but by unjust charges, as usual, should bring men into the law-courts and murder them, as if he set no value on human life, and, tasting with unholy month and tongue even the blood of relations, should banish men and slay them, proposing the abolition of debts and fresh division of lands,—must not such an one of necessity, and by destiny, be either destroyed by his enemies, or else act the tyrant, and from a man, become a wolf? Of great necessity, said he. This then, is he, said I—the same who rises in sedition against those who have property. Yes. And when he has been banished and returns against the will of his adversaries, he comes back, of course, an accomplished tyrant. It is plain. And if they cannot expel him, or put him to death on a state accusation, then they conspire to cut him off privately by a violent death. It usually so happens, he observed. And besides this, all who have advanced to this station invent _this_ much-vaunted tyrannical demand, asking the people for certain body-guards, that the people’s aid may be secured them. Of this, said he, they take special care. And methinks they grant them this through fear of his safety, though secure as to their own. Quite so. And when a man observes this, who has property, and who, besides that, is further charged with hating the people,—he then, my friend, according to the answer of the oracle to Crœsus,

... To pebble-bedded Hermus flies,
Nor waits the brand of cowardice;[239]...

because he would not, said he, be a second time in fear. But surely, said I, he at least, methinks, that is caught, is put to death. Of necessity so. It is plain, then, that this president of our state does not like a noble person, nobly lie,[240] but, after hurling down many others, sits in his chair of office, a consummate tyrant of the state,—and not a president. Of course, he is likely to be so, rejoined he.

-----

Footnote 239:

The same oracular legend occurs in Herodotus, Clio, ch. 55.

Footnote 240:

Comp. Hom. Il. xvi. 776; Odyss. xxiv. 39.

-----

CHAP. XVII.—Shall we then examine the happiness both of the man and the state, in which such a mortal as this is engendered? Let us do so by all means, said he. Does he not, then, said I, in the first days, and for a brief season, smile and salute every one he meets, and asserting himself to be no tyrant, and promise many things, both in public and private, and liberate men from debts, and distribute land both to the public and those about him, and affect to be mild and liberal towards all? He must, replied he. But, methinks, when he becomes reconciled to some of his foreign enemies, and has destroyed others, and there is quiet respecting these, he first of all is ever exciting wars, that the people may be in need of a leader. Aye, that is likely. Is it not also then, that, being rendered poor by contributing to the public treasury, they may be compelled to be anxious for daily sustenance, and so less readily conspire against him? Plainly so. And methinks, if he suspects that any of a free spirit will not allow him to govern,—in order that he may have some pretext for destroying them, he exposes them to the enemy; for all these reasons a tyrant must necessarily be always raising war. Necessarily so. And, while he is doing these things, he will necessarily become more hateful to the citizens. Of course. And, therefore, some of those who have been promoted along with him and are in power, use great plainness of speech, towards him and among themselves, finding fault with what is done,—such at least, as are of a more manly spirit. Aye, probably so. The tyrant, therefore, if he means to govern, must cut off all these, till he leave no one, either friend or foe, worth anything. It is plain. He must carefully notice them,—who is courageous, who is magnanimous, who wise, who rich; and in this manner is he happy, that, willing or unwilling, he is under a necessity of being an enemy to all like these; and to form plots against them, till he has purged the state. A fine purging indeed! said he. Yes, said I, the reverse of what the physicians do with regard to animal bodies; for they take away the worst and leave the best; but he does the contrary. Because it seems, said he, if he is to govern, he must necessarily do so.

CHAP. XVIII.—By a blessed necessity, then truly, is he bound, said I; which compels him either to live with a depraved multitude,—hated by them too, or not live at all. In such necessity he is, he replied. And the more he is hated by the citizens whilst he does these things, will he not so much the more require a greater number of guards, and those more faithful? It is impossible he should not. Who then are the faithful, and whence shall he procure them? Many, said he, will come flying to him of their own accord, if he give them pay. By the dog, said I, you seem again to be talking of certain drones, both foreign and multiform. Aye, you think right, replied he. But those of the state itself,—would he not desire to have them also as guards? How? After he has taken away the slaves from the citizens, would he not give them their liberty, and make of them guards about his person? By all means, said he; for these are the most faithful to him. What a blessed possession of the tyrants, said I, is this which you mention, if he employ such friends and faithful men, after having destroyed the former ones! But at any rate, said he, such he surely does employ. And then his companions, said I, admire him, and the young citizens flock around him: but those that are respectable men both hate and fly from him. Of course they would. It is not without reason, then, said I, that tragedy is generally thought a wise thing, and that Euripides is thought to excel in it. Why? Because he uttered this, the result of deep reflection, that tyrants are wise, by intercourse with the wise;—and he plainly said, those were wise with whom they hold converse. And he commends tyranny too, said he, as some divine thing, and says a great deal else about it, as do the other poets. Those composers then of tragedy, said I, as they are wise, will forgive both ourselves and others who establish governments analogous to our own, for not admitting them into our republic, as being panegyrists of tyranny. Methinks, said he, such of them, at least, as are well mannered, will forgive us. But they will go about through other states, methinks, drawing together the crowds, and put to sale their fine, magnificent, and persuasive words, and so draw over governments to tyrannies and democracies. Just so. And do they not further receive rewards and are specially honoured, first by tyrants, as is natural, and next by a democracy; but the higher they advance in the forms of government, the more does honour forsake them, disabled as it were by an asthma from pursuing its progress. Entirely so.

CHAP. XIX.—Thus far, said I, have we digressed: and now let us go back and talk about the army of the tyrant, beautiful as it is numerous, multiform, and ever the same,—how it is to be maintained. It is plain, said he, that whatever sacred things there be in the state, these they will despoil, and make the sale-proceeds therefrom to be such from time to time as to cause the commons to pay lighter taxes. But when these fail, what will they do? It is plain, said he, that he and his boon-companions, and associates, male and female, will be maintained out of his paternal inheritance. I understand, said I:—the party that made the tyrant is to maintain him and his companions. Surely it must be so, replied he. How, say you? replied I:—if the people were to be enraged, and say, that it is not just for a son arrived at mature age to be maintained by the father, but on the contrary, the father by the son, and that he did not beget and bring him up for this purpose, to be himself a slave to his slaves after they have grown up, and to maintain him and his slaves with the rest of the riotous crew,[241]—but rather that under his auspices he might be liberated from the rich in the the state, [who are also called the good and worthy]:—and now he orders him and his companions to leave the state as a father drives from home his son and his rackety boon-fellows. By Zeus, then, the people, said he, such as they are, will know what sort of a creature they have begotten, embraced, and nurtured, and that being themselves the weaker party, they are still trying to drive out the stronger. How say you, replied I;—will the tyrant dare to offer violence to his father, and actually strike him if he will not yield? Yes, said he, for he has stripped him of his armour. The tyrant, said I, you call a parricide and a hard-hearted nourisher of old age; and this, as it seems, would be an acknowledged tyranny; and, as the saying is,—the common people, flying from the smoke of slavery among freemen, have fallen into the slavish fire of despotism, and instead of excessive and unreasonable liberty, they embrace the most rigorous and bitterest captivity of actual slaves. Aye,—this is very much the case, rejoined he. What then, said I, may it not be concluded with due consideration, that we have shown in sufficient detail how tyranny arises out of democracy, and its nature also, when it does arise? Quite sufficiently, of course, replied he.

-----

Footnote 241:

Gr. ξυγκλύδων ἄλλων. The word ξύγκλυς means the vilest and most
worthless scum of the people. Comp. Thucyd. vii. 5, where it is used
in the same sense.

-----

THE END OF THE EIGHTH BOOK.