Plato,
Republic
Book
VI & VII, the Divided Line and the Parable of the Cave
Jowett translation. Approximate Stephanus numbers in brackets.
506(b) Adeimantos: Of course, he replied; but I wish that you
would tell me whether you conceive this supreme principle of the good to be
knowledge or pleasure, or different from either?
Socrates: Aye, I said, I knew all along that a fastidious
gentleman like you would not be contented with the thoughts of other people
about these matters.
True, Socrates;
but I must say that one who like you has passed a lifetime in the study of
philosophy should not be always repeating the opinions of others, and never
telling his own.
Well, but has
anyone a right to say positively what he does not know?
Not, he said,
with the assurance of positive certainty; he has no right to do that: but he
may say what he thinks, as a matter of opinion.
And do you not
know, I said, that all mere opinions are bad, and the
best of them blind? You would not deny that those who have any true notion
without intelligence are only like blind men who feel their way along the road?
Very true.
And do you wish
to behold what is blind and crooked and base, when others will tell you of
brightness and beauty?
Glaukon: Still, I must
implore you, Socrates, said Glaucon, not to turn away
just as you are reaching the goal; if you will only give such an explanation of
the good as you have already given of justice and temperance and the other
virtues, we shall be satisfied.
Socrates: Yes, my friend, and I shall be at least equally
satisfied, but I cannot help fearing that I shall fail, and that my indiscreet
zeal will bring ridicule upon me. No, sweet sirs, let us not at present ask
what is the actual nature of the good, for to reach what is now in my thoughts
would be an effort too great for me. But of the child of the good who is likest him, I would fain speak, if I could be sure that you
wished to hear— otherwise, not.
By all means, he
said, tell us about the child, and you shall remain in our debt for the account
of the parent.
507(a)I do indeed wish, I replied, that I could pay, and you receive, the account
of the parent, and not, as now, of the offspring only; take, however, this
latter by way of interest, and at the same time have a care that I do not
render a false account, although I have no intention of deceiving you.
Yes, we will take
all the care that we can: proceed.
Yes, I said, but
I must first come to an understanding with you, and remind you of what I have
mentioned in the course of this discussion, and at many other times.
What?
The old story,
that there is many a beautiful and many a good, and so of other things which we
describe and define; to all of them the term "many" is implied.
True, he said.
And there is an
absolute beauty and an absolute good, and of other things to which the term
"many" is applied there is an absolute; for they may be brought under
a single idea, which is called the essence of each.
Very true.
The many, as we
say, are seen but not known, and the ideas are known but not seen.
Exactly.
And what is the
organ with which we see the visible things?
The sight, he
said.
And with the
hearing, I said, we hear, and with the other senses perceive the other objects
of sense?
True.
But have you
remarked that sight is by far the most costly and complex piece of workmanship
which the artificer of the senses ever contrived?
No, I never have,
he said.
Then reflect: has
the ear or voice need of any third or additional nature in order that the one
may be able to hear and the other to be heard?
Nothing of the sort.
No, indeed, I replied;
and the same is true of most, if not all, the other senses—you would not say
that any of them requires such an addition?
Certainly not.
But you see that
without the addition of some other nature there is no seeing or being seen?
How do you mean?
Sight being, as I
conceive, in the eyes, and he who has eyes wanting to see; color being also
present in them, still unless there be a third nature specially adapted to the
purpose, the owner of the eyes will see nothing and the colors will be
invisible.
Of what nature
are you speaking?
Of that which you
term light, I replied.
True, he said.
508(a) Noble, then, is the bond which links together sight and visibility, and
great beyond other bonds by no small difference of nature; for light is their
bond, and light is no ignoble thing?
Nay, he said, the
reverse of ignoble.
And which, I
said, of the gods in heaven would you say was the lord of this element? Whose
is that light which makes the eye to see perfectly and the visible to appear?
You mean the sun,
as you and all mankind say.
May not the
relation of sight to this deity be described as follows?
How?
Neither sight nor
the eye in which sight resides is the sun?
No.
Yet of all the
organs of sense the eye is the most like the sun?
By far the most
like.
And the power
which the eye possesses is a sort of effluence which is dispensed from the sun?
Exactly.
Then the sun is
not sight, but the author of sight who is recognized by sight?
True, he said.
And this is he
whom I call the child of the good, whom the good begat in his own likeness, to
be in the visible world, in relation to sight and the things of sight, what the
good is in the intellectual world in relation to mind and the things of mind:
Will you be a
little more explicit? he said.
Why, you know, I
said, that the eyes, when a person directs them toward objects on which the
light of day is no longer shining, but the moon and stars only, see dimly, and
are nearly blind; they seem to have no clearness of vision in them?
Very true.
But when they are
directed toward objects on which the sun shines, they see clearly and there is
sight in them?
Certainly.
And the soul is
like the eye: when resting upon that on which truth and being shine, the soul
perceives and understands, and is radiant with intelligence; but when turned
toward the twilight of becoming and perishing, then she has opinion only, and
goes blinking about, and is first of one opinion and then of another, and seems
to have no intelligence?
Just so.
Now, that which imparts
truth to the known and the power of knowing to the knower is what I would have
you term the idea of good, and this you will deem to be the cause of science,
and of truth in so far as the latter becomes the subject of knowledge;
beautiful too, as are both truth and knowledge, you will be right in esteeming
this other nature as more beautiful than either; and, as in the previous
instance, 509(a) light and sight may
be truly said to be like the sun, and yet not to be the sun, so in this other
sphere, science and truth may be deemed to be like the good, but not the good;
the good has a place of honor yet higher.
What a wonder of
beauty that must be, he said, which is the author of science and truth, and yet
surpasses them in beauty; for you surely cannot mean to say that pleasure is
the good?
God forbid, I
replied; but may I ask you to consider the image in another point of view?
In what point of view?
You would say,
would you not? that the sun is not only the author of
visibility in all visible things, but of generation and nourishment and growth,
though he himself is not generation?
Certainly.
In like manner
the good may be said to be not only the author of knowledge to all things
known, but of their being and essence, and yet the good is not [being or] essence,
but far exceeds [being or] essence in dignity and power.
Glaucon said, with
a ludicrous earnestness: By the light of heaven, how amazing!
Yes, I said, and
the exaggeration may be set down to you; for you made me utter my fancies.
And pray continue
to utter them; at any rate let us hear if there is anything more to be said
about the similitude of the sun.
Yes, I said,
there is a great deal more.
Then omit
nothing, however slight.
I will do my
best, I said; but I should think that a great deal will have to be omitted. I
hope not, he said.
You have to
Imagine, then, that there are two ruling powers, and that one of them is set
over the intellectual world, the other over the visible. I do not say heaven,
lest you should fancy that I am playing upon the name (ovpavos,
opatos). May I suppose that you have this distinction
of the visible and intelligible fixed in your mind?
I have.
Now take a line
which has been cut into two unequal parts, and divide each of them again in the
same proportion, and suppose the two main divisions to answer, one to the
visible and the other to the intelligible, and then compare the subdivisions in
respect of their clearness and want of clearness, and you will find that the
first section in the sphere of the visible consists of images. And by images I
mean, in the first place, shadows, and in the second place, reflections in
water and in solid, smooth and polished bodies and the like: Do you understand?
510(a) Yes, I understand.
Imagine, now, the
other section, of which this is only the resemblance, to include the animals
which we see, and everything that grows or is made.
Very good.
Would you not
admit that both the sections of this division have different degrees of truth,
and that the copy is to the original as the sphere of opinion is to the sphere
of knowledge?
Most undoubtedly.
Next proceed to
consider the manner in which the sphere of the intellectual is to be divided.
In what manner?
Thus: There are
two subdivisions, in the lower of which the soul uses the figures given by the
former division as images; the inquiry can only be hypothetical, and instead of
going upward to a principle descends to the other end; in the higher of the
two, the soul passes out of hypotheses, and goes up to a principle which is
above hypotheses, making no use of images as in the former case, but proceeding
only in and through the ideas themselves.
I do not quite
understand your meaning, he said.
Then I will try
again; you will understand me better when I have made some preliminary remarks.
You are aware that students of geometry, arithmetic, and the kindred sciences
assume the odd, and the even, and the figures, and three kinds of angles, and
the like, in their several branches of science; these are their hypotheses,
which they and everybody are supposed to know, and therefore they do not deign
to give any account of them either to themselves or others; but they begin with
them, and go on until they arrive at last, and in a consistent manner, at their
conclusion?
Yes, he said, I
know.
And do you not know
also that although they make use of the visible forms and reason about them,
they are thinking not of these, but of the ideals which they resemble; not of
the figures which they draw, but of the absolute square and the absolute
diameter, and so on—the forms which they draw or make, and which have shadows
and reflections in water of their own, are converted by them into images, but
they are really seeking to behold the things themselves, which can only be seen
with the eye of the mind?
511(a) That is true.
And of this kind
I spoke as the intelligible, although in the search after it the soul is
compelled to use hypotheses; not ascending to a first principle, because she is
unable to rise above the region of hypothesis, but employing the objects of
which the shadows below are resemblances in their turn as images, they having
in relation to the shadows and reflections of them a greater distinctness, and
therefore a higher value.
I understand, he said, that you are speaking of the province of geometry
and the sister arts.
And when I speak
of the other division of the intelligible, you will understand me to speak of
that other sort of knowledge which reason herself attains by the power of
dialectic, using the hypotheses not as first principles, but only as
hypotheses— that is to say, as steps and points of departure into a world which
is above hypotheses, in order that she may soar beyond them to the first
principle of the whole; and clinging to this and then to that which depends on
this, by successive steps she descends again without the aid of any sensible
object, from ideas, through ideas, and in ideas she ends.
I understand you,
he replied; not perfectly, for you seem to me to be describing a task which is
really tremendous; but, at any rate, I understand you to say that knowledge and
being, which the science of dialectic contemplates, are clearer than the
notions of the arts, as they are termed, which proceed from hypotheses only:
these are also contemplated by the understanding, and not by the senses: yet,
because they start from hypotheses and do not ascend to a principle, those who
contemplate them appear to you not to exercise the higher reason upon them,
although when a first principle is added to them they are cognizable by the
higher reason. And the habit which is concerned with geometry and the cognate
sciences I suppose that you would term understanding, and not reason, as being
intermediate between opinion and reason.
You have quite
conceived my meaning, I said; and now, corresponding to these four divisions,
let there be four faculties in the soul—reason answering to the highest,
understanding to the second, faith (or conviction) to the third, and perception
of shadows to the last—and let there be a scale of them, and let us suppose
that the several faculties have clearness in the same degree that their objects
have truth.
I understand, he
replied, and give my assent, and accept your arrangement.
Book VII
514a
(SOCRATES, GLAUCON.) AND now, I said, let me show in a figure
how far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened: Behold! human
beings living in an underground den, which has a mouth open toward the light
and reaching all along the den; here they have been from their childhood, and
have their legs and necks chained so that they cannot move, and can only see
before them, being prevented by the chains from turning round their heads.
Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and between the fire and
the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you look, a low wall
built along the way, like the screen which marionette-players have in front of
them, over which they show the puppets.
I see.
And do you see, I
said, men passing along the wall carrying all sorts of vessels, and statues and
figures of animals made of wood and stone and various materials, which appear
over the wall? Some of them are talking, others silent.
515(a) You have shown me a strange image, and they are strange prisoners.
Like ourselves, I
replied; and they see only their own shadows, or the shadows of one another,
which the fire throws on the opposite wall of the cave?
True, he said;
how could they see anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to move
their heads?
And of the
objects which are being carried in like manner they would only see the shadows?
Yes, he said.
And if they were
able to converse with one another, would they not suppose that they were naming
what was actually before them?
Very true.
And suppose
further that the prison had an echo which came from the other side, would they
not be sure to fancy when one of the passers-by spoke that the voice which they
heard came from the passing shadow?
No question, he
replied.
To them, I said,
the truth would be literally nothing but the shadows of the images.
That is certain.
And now look
again, and see what will naturally follow if the prisoners are released and
disabused of their error. At first, when any of them is liberated and compelled
suddenly to stand up and turn his neck round and walk and look toward the
light, he will suffer sharp pains; the glare will distress him, and he will be
unable to see the realities of which in his former state he had seen the
shadows; and then conceive someone saying to him, that what he saw before was
an illusion, but that now, when he is approaching nearer to being and his eye
is turned toward more real existence, he has a clearer vision—what will be his
reply? And you may further imagine that his instructor is pointing to the
objects as they pass and requiring him to name them—will he not be perplexed?
Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer than the
objects which are now shown to him?
Far truer.
And if he is
compelled to look straight at the light, will he not have a pain in his eyes
which will make him turn away to take refuge in the objects of vision which he
can see, and which he will conceive to be in reality clearer than the things
which are now being shown to him?
True, he said.
And suppose once
more, that he is reluctantly dragged up a steep and rugged ascent, and held
fast until he is forced into the presence of the sun himself, is he not likely
to be pained and irritated? 516(a) When
he approaches the light his eyes will be dazzled, and he will not be able to
see anything at all of what are now called realities.
Not all in a
moment, he said.
He will require to grow accustomed to the sight of the upper world. And
first he will see the shadows best, next the reflections of men and other
objects in the water, and then the objects themselves; then he will gaze upon
the light of the moon and the stars and the spangled heaven; and he will see
the sky and the stars by night better than the sun or the light of the sun by
day?
Certainly.
Last of all he will
be able to see the sun, and not mere reflections of him in the water, but he
will see him in his own proper place, and not in another; and he will
contemplate him as he is.
Certainly.
He will then
proceed to argue that this is he who gives the season and the years, and is the
guardian of all that is in the visible world, and in a certain way the cause of
all things which he and his fellows have been accustomed to behold?
Clearly, he said,
he would first see the sun and then reason about him.
And when he
remembered his old habitation, and the wisdom of the den and his
fellow-prisoners, do you not suppose that he would felicitate himself on the
change, and pity him?
Certainly, he
would.
And if they were
in the habit of conferring honors among themselves on those who were quickest
to observe the passing shadows and to remark which of them went before, and
which followed after, and which were together; and who were therefore best able
to draw conclusions as to the future, do you think that he would care for such
honors and glories, or envy the possessors of them? Would he not say with Homer,
"Better to
be the poor servant of a poor master,"
and to endure
anything, rather than think as they do and live after their manner?
Yes, he said, I
think that he would rather suffer anything than entertain these false notions
and live in this miserable manner.
Imagine once
more, I said, such a one coming suddenly out of the sun to be replaced in his
old situation; would he not be certain to have his eyes full of darkness?
To be sure, he
said.
And if there were
a contest, and he had to compete in measuring the shadows with the prisoners
who had never moved out of the den, while his sight was still weak, and before
his eyes had become steady (and the time which would be needed to acquire this
new habit of sight might be very considerable), 517(a) would he not be ridiculous? Men would say of him that up he
went and down he came without his eyes; and that it was better not even to
think of ascending; and if anyone tried to loose another and lead him up to the
light, let them only catch the offender, and they would put him to death.
No question, he
said.
This entire
allegory, I said, you may now append, dear Glaucon,
to the previous argument; the prison-house is the world of sight, the light of
the fire is the sun, and you will not misapprehend me if you interpret the
journey upward to be the ascent of the soul into the intellectual world
according to my poor belief, which, at your desire, I have expressed—whether
rightly or wrongly, God knows. But, whether true or false, my opinion is that
in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all, and is seen
only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to be the universal
author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and of the lord of
light in this visible world, and the immediate source of reason and truth in
the intellectual; and that this is the power upon which he who would act
rationally either in public or private life must have his eye fixed.
I agree, he said,
as far as I am able to understand you.
Moreover, I said,
you must not wonder that those who attain to this beatific vision are unwilling
to descend to human affairs; for their souls are ever hastening into the upper
world where they desire to dwell; which desire of theirs is very natural, if
our allegory may be trusted.
Yes, very
natural.
And is there
anything surprising in one who passes from divine contemplations to the evil
state of man, misbehaving himself in a ridiculous manner; if, while his eyes
are blinking and before he has become accustomed to the surrounding darkness,
he is compelled to fight in courts of law, or in other places, about the images
or the shadows of images of justice, and is endeavoring to meet the conceptions
of those who have never yet seen absolute justice?
Anything but
surprising, he replied.
518(a) Anyone who has common-sense will remember that the bewilderments of the
eyes are of two kinds, and arise from two causes, either from coming out of the
light or from going into the light, which is true of the mind's eye, quite as
much as of the bodily eye; and he who remembers this when he sees anyone whose
vision is perplexed and weak, will not be too ready to laugh; he will first ask
whether that soul of man has come out of the brighter life, and is unable to
see because unaccustomed to the dark, or having turned from darkness to the day
is dazzled by excess of light. And he will count the one happy in his condition
and state of being, and he will pity the other; or, if he have a mind to laugh
at the soul which comes from below into the light, there will be more reason in
this than in the laugh which greets him who returns from above out of the light
into the den.
That, he said, is
a very just distinction.
But then, if I am
right, certain professors of education must be wrong when they say that they
can put a knowledge into the soul which was not there
before, like sight into blind eyes.
They undoubtedly
say this, he replied.
Whereas, our
argument shows that the power and capacity of learning exists in the soul
already; and that just as the eye was unable to turn from darkness to light
without the whole body, so too the instrument of knowledge can only by the
movement of the whole soul be turned from the world of becoming into that of
being, and learn by degrees to endure the sight of being, and of the brightest
and best of being, or, in other words, of the good.
Very true.
And must there
not be some art which will effect conversion in the easiest and quickest
manner; not implanting the faculty of sight, for that exists already, but has
been turned in the wrong direction, and is looking away from the truth?
Yes, he said,
such an art may be presumed.