Protagoras
perplexed. Now while he was in this perplexity, Prometheus came to
inspect the distribution, and he found that the other animals were
suitably furnished, but that man alone was naked and shoeless, and had
neither bed nor arms of defence. The appointed hour was approaching when
man in his turn was to go forth into the light of day; and Prometheus,
not knowing how he could devise his salvation, stole the mechanical arts
of Hephaestus and Athene, and fire with them (they could neither have
been acquired nor used without fire), and gave them to man. Thus man had
the wisdom necessary to the support of life, but political wisdom he had
not; for that was in the keeping of Zeus, and the power of Prometheus
did not extend to entering into the citadel of heaven, where Zeus dwelt,
who moreover had terrible sentinels; but he did enter by stealth into
the common workshop of Athene and Hephaestus, in which they used to
practise their favourite arts, and carried off Hephaestus' art of
working by fire, and also the art of Athene, and gave them to man. And
in this way man was supplied with the means of life. But Prometheus is
said to have been afterwards prosecuted for theft, owing to the blunder
of Epimetheus.
Now man, having a share of the divine attributes, was at first the
only one of the animals who had any gods, because he alone was of their
kindred; and he would raise altars and images of them. He was not long
in inventing articulate speech and names; and he also constructed houses
and clothes and shoes and beds, and drew sustenance from the earth. Thus
provided, mankind at first lived dispersed, and there were no cities.
But the consequence was that they were destroyed by the wild beasts,
for they were utterly weak in comparison of them, and their art was only
sufficient to provide them with the means of life, and did not enable
them to carry on war against the animals: food they had, but not as yet
the art of government, of which the art of war is a part. After a while
the desire of self-preservation gathered them into cities; but when they
were gathered together, having no art of government, they evil intreated
one another, and were again in process of dispersion and destruction.
Zeus feared that the entire race would be exterminated, and so he
sent Hermes to them, bearing reverence and justice to be the ordering
principles of cities and the bonds of friendship and conciliation.
Hermes asked Zeus how he should impart justice and reverence among
men:--Should he distribute them as the arts are distributed; that is
to say, to a favoured few only, one skilled individual having enough of
medicine or of any other art for many unskilled ones? 'Shall this be the
manner in which I am to distribute justice and reverence among men, or
shall I give them to all?' 'To all,' said Zeus; 'I should like them all
to have a share; for cities cannot exist, if a few only share in the
virtues, as in the arts. And further, make a law by my order, that he
who has no part in reverence and justice shall be put to death, for he
is a plague of the state.'
And this is the reason, Socrates, why the Athenians and mankind
in general, when the question relates to carpentering or any other
mechanical art, allow but a few to share in their deliberations; and
when any one else interferes, then, as you say, they object, if he be
not of the favoured few; which, as I reply, is very natural. But when
they meet to deliberate about political virtue, which proceeds only by
way of justice and wisdom, they are patient enough of any man who speaks
of them, as is also natural, because they think that every man ought to
share in this sort of virtue, and that states could not exist if this
were otherwise. I have explained to you, Socrates, the reason of this
phenomenon.
And that you may not suppose yourself to be deceived in thinking that
all men regard every man as having a share of justice or honesty and of
every other political virtue, let me give you a further proof, which is
this. In other cases, as you are aware, if a man says that he is a good
flute-player, or skilful in any other art in which he has no skill,
people either laugh at him or are angry with him, and his relations
think that he is mad and go and admonish him; but when honesty is in
question, or some other political virtue, even if they know that he is
dishonest, yet, if the man comes publicly forward and tells the truth
about his dishonesty, then, what in the other case was held by them to
be good sense, they now deem to be madness. They say that all men ought
to profess honesty whether they are honest or not, and that a man is
out of his mind who says anything else. Their notion is, that a man must
have some degree of honesty; and that if he has none at all he ought not
to be in the world.
I have been showing that they are right in admitting every man as a
counsellor about this sort of virtue, as they are of opinion that every
man is a partaker of it. And I will now endeavour to show further that
they do not conceive this virtue to be given by nature, or to grow
spontaneously, but to be a thing which may be taught; and which comes to
a man by taking pains. No one would instruct, no one would rebuke, or
be angry with those whose calamities they suppose to be due to nature
or chance; they do not try to punish or to prevent them from being what
they are; they do but pity them. Who is so foolish as to chastise
or instruct the ugly, or the diminutive, or the feeble? And for this
reason. Because he knows that good and evil of this kind is the work
of nature and of chance; whereas if a man is wanting in those good
qualities which are attained by study and exercise and teaching, and
has only the contrary evil qualities, other men are angry with him, and
punish and reprove him--of these evil qualities one is impiety, another
injustice, and they may be described generally as the very opposite of
political virtue. In such cases any man will be angry with another, and
reprimand him,--clearly because he thinks that by study and learning,
the virtue in which the other is deficient may be acquired. If you will
think, Socrates, of the nature of punishment, you will see at once that
in the opinion of mankind virtue may be acquired; no one punishes
the evil-doer under the notion, or for the reason, that he has done
wrong,--only the unreasonable fury of a beast acts in that manner. But
he who desires to inflict rational punishment does not retaliate for a
past wrong which cannot be undone; he has regard to the future, and is
desirous that the man who is punished, and he who sees him punished,
may be deterred from doing wrong again. He punishes for the sake of
prevention, thereby clearly implying that virtue is capable of being
taught. This is the notion of all who retaliate upon others either
privately or publicly. And the Athenians, too, your own citizens, like
other men, punish and take vengeance on all whom they regard as evil
doers; and hence, we may infer them to be of the number of those who
think that virtue may be acquired and taught. Thus far, Socrates, I have
shown you clearly enough, if I am not mistaken, that your countrymen are
right in admitting the tinker and the cobbler to advise about politics,
and also that they deem virtue to be capable of being taught and
acquired.
There yet remains one difficulty which has been raised by you about the
sons of good men. What is the reason why good men teach their sons the
knowledge which is gained from teachers, and make them wise in that,
but do nothing towards improving them in the virtues which distinguish
themselves? And here, Socrates, I will leave the apologue and resume the
argument. Please to consider: Is there or is there not some one quality
of which all the citizens must be partakers, if there is to be a city
at all? In the answer to this question is contained the only solution
of your difficulty; there is no other. For if there be any such quality,
and this quality or unity is not the art of the carpenter, or the smith,
or the potter, but justice and temperance and holiness and, in a word,
manly virtue--if this is the quality of which all men must be partakers,
and which is the very condition of their learning or doing anything
else, and if he who is wanting in this, whether he be a child only or a
grown-up man or woman, must be taught and punished, until by punishment
he becomes better, and he who rebels against instruction and punishment
is either exiled or condemned to death under the idea that he is
incurable--if what I am saying be true, good men have their sons taught
other things and not this, do consider how extraordinary their conduct
would appear to be. For we have shown that they think virtue capable
of being taught and cultivated both in private and public; and,
notwithstanding, they have their sons taught lesser matters, ignorance
of which does not involve the punishment of death: but greater things,
of which the ignorance may cause death and exile to those who have no
training or knowledge of them--aye, and confiscation as well as death,
and, in a word, may be the ruin of families--those things, I say, they
are supposed not to teach them,--not to take the utmost care that they
should learn. How improbable is this, Socrates!
Education and admonition commence in the first years of childhood, and
last to the very end of life. Mother and nurse and father and tutor are
vying with one another about the improvement of the child as soon as
ever he is able to understand what is being said to him: he cannot say
or do anything without their setting forth to him that this is just and
that is unjust; this is honourable, that is dishonourable; this is holy,
that is unholy; do this and abstain from that. And if he obeys, well and
good; if not, he is straightened by threats and blows, like a piece of
bent or warped wood. At a later stage they send him to teachers, and
enjoin them to see to his manners even more than to his reading and
music; and the teachers do as they are desired. And when the boy has
learned his letters and is beginning to understand what is written, as
before he understood only what was spoken, they put into his hands the
works of great poets, which he reads sitting on a bench at school; in
these are contained many admonitions, and many tales, and praises, and
encomia of ancient famous men, which he is required to learn by heart,
in order that he may imitate or emulate them and desire to become like
them. Then, again, the teachers of the lyre take similar care that their
young disciple is temperate and gets into no mischief; and when they
have taught him the use of the lyre, they introduce him to the poems of
other excellent poets, who are the lyric poets; and these they set
to music, and make their harmonies and rhythms quite familiar to the
children's souls, in order that they may learn to be more gentle, and
harmonious, and rhythmical, and so more fitted for speech and action;
for the life of man in every part has need of harmony and rhythm. Then
they send them to the master of gymnastic, in order that their bodies
may better minister to the virtuous mind, and that they may not be
compelled through bodily weakness to play the coward in war or on any
other occasion. This is what is done by those who have the means, and
those who have the means are the rich; their children begin to go to
school soonest and leave off latest. When they have done with masters,
the state again compels them to learn the laws, and live after the
pattern which they furnish, and not after their own fancies; and just as
in learning to write, the writing-master first draws lines with a style
for the use of the young beginner, and gives him the tablet and makes
him follow the lines, so the city draws the laws, which were the