The Republic
receives, under the idea that the exchange will be for their good.
Very true.
Then, I said, let us begin and create in idea a State; and yet the true
creator is necessity, who is the mother of our invention.
Of course, he replied.
Now the first and greatest of necessities is food, which is the
condition of life and existence.
Certainly.
The second is a dwelling, and the third clothing and the like.
True.
And now let us see how our city will be able to supply this great
demand: We may suppose that one man is a husbandman, another a builder,
some one else a weaver—shall we add to them a shoemaker, or perhaps
some other purveyor to our bodily wants?
Quite right.
The barest notion of a State must include four or five men.
Clearly.
And how will they proceed? Will each bring the result of his labours
into a common stock?—the individual husbandman, for example, producing
for four, and labouring four times as long and as much as he need in
the provision of food with which he supplies others as well as himself;
or will he have nothing to do with others and not be at the trouble of
producing for them, but provide for himself alone a fourth of the food
in a fourth of the time, and in the remaining three fourths of his time
be employed in making a house or a coat or a pair of shoes, having no
partnership with others, but supplying himself all his own wants?
Adeimantus thought that he should aim at producing food only and not at
producing everything.
Probably, I replied, that would be the better way; and when I hear you
say this, I am myself reminded that we are not all alike; there are
diversities of natures among us which are adapted to different
occupations.
Very true.
And will you have a work better done when the workman has many
occupations, or when he has only one?
When he has only one.
Further, there can be no doubt that a work is spoilt when not done at
the right time?
No doubt.
For business is not disposed to wait until the doer of the business is
at leisure; but the doer must follow up what he is doing, and make the
business his first object.
He must.
And if so, we must infer that all things are produced more plentifully
and easily and of a better quality when one man does one thing which is
natural to him and does it at the right time, and leaves other things.
Undoubtedly.
Then more than four citizens will be required; for the husbandman will
not make his own plough or mattock, or other implements of agriculture,
if they are to be good for anything. Neither will the builder make his
tools—and he too needs many; and in like manner the weaver and
shoemaker.
True.
Then carpenters, and smiths, and many other artisans, will be sharers
in our little State, which is already beginning to grow?
True.
Yet even if we add neatherds, shepherds, and other herdsmen, in order
that our husbandmen may have oxen to plough with, and builders as well
as husbandmen may have draught cattle, and curriers and weavers fleeces
and hides,—still our State will not be very large.
That is true; yet neither will it be a very small State which contains
all these.
Then, again, there is the situation of the city—to find a place where
nothing need be imported is wellnigh impossible.
Impossible.
Then there must be another class of citizens who will bring the
required supply from another city?
There must.
But if the trader goes empty-handed, having nothing which they require
who would supply his need, he will come back empty-handed.
That is certain.
And therefore what they produce at home must be not only enough for
themselves, but such both in quantity and quality as to accommodate
those from whom their wants are supplied.
Very true.
Then more husbandmen and more artisans will be required?
They will.
Not to mention the importers and exporters, who are called merchants?
Yes.
Then we shall want merchants?
We shall.
And if merchandise is to be carried over the sea, skilful sailors will
also be needed, and in considerable numbers?
Yes, in considerable numbers.
Then, again, within the city, how will they exchange their productions?
To secure such an exchange was, as you will remember, one of our
principal objects when we formed them into a society and constituted a
State.
Clearly they will buy and sell.
Then they will need a market-place, and a money-token for purposes of
exchange.
Certainly.
Suppose now that a husbandman, or an artisan, brings some production to
market, and he comes at a time when there is no one to exchange with
him,—is he to leave his calling and sit idle in the market-place?
Not at all; he will find people there who, seeing the want, undertake
the office of salesmen. In well-ordered states they are commonly those
who are the weakest in bodily strength, and therefore of little use for
any other purpose; their duty is to be in the market, and to give money
in exchange for goods to those who desire to sell and to take money
from those who desire to buy.
This want, then, creates a class of retail-traders in our State. Is not
‘retailer’ the term which is applied to those who sit in the
market-place engaged in buying and selling, while those who wander from
one city to another are called merchants?
Yes, he said.
And there is another class of servants, who are intellectually hardly
on the level of companionship; still they have plenty of bodily
strength for labour, which accordingly they sell, and are called, if I
do not mistake, hirelings, hire being the name which is given to the
price of their labour.
True.
Then hirelings will help to make up our population?
Yes.
And now, Adeimantus, is our State matured and perfected?
I think so.
Where, then, is justice, and where is injustice, and in what part of
the State did they spring up?
Probably in the dealings of these citizens with one another. I cannot
imagine that they are more likely to be found any where else.
I dare say that you are right in your suggestion, I said; we had better
think the matter out, and not shrink from the enquiry.
Let us then consider, first of all, what will be their way of life, now
that we have thus established them. Will they not produce corn, and
wine, and clothes, and shoes, and build houses for themselves? And when
they are housed, they will work, in summer, commonly, stripped and
barefoot, but in winter substantially clothed and shod. They will feed
on barley-meal and flour of wheat, baking and kneading them, making
noble cakes and loaves; these they will serve up on a mat of reeds or
on clean leaves, themselves reclining the while upon beds strewn with
yew or myrtle. And they and their children will feast, drinking of the
wine which they have made, wearing garlands on their heads, and hymning
the praises of the gods, in happy converse with one another. And they
will take care that their families do not exceed their means; having an
eye to poverty or war.
But, said Glaucon, interposing, you have not given them a relish to
their meal.
True, I replied, I had forgotten; of course they must have a
relish—salt, and olives, and cheese, and they will boil roots and herbs
such as country people prepare; for a dessert we shall give them figs,
and peas, and beans; and they will roast myrtle-berries and acorns at
the fire, drinking in moderation. And with such a diet they may be
expected to live in peace and health to a good old age, and bequeath a
similar life to their children after them.
Yes, Socrates, he said, and if you were providing for a city of pigs,
how else would you feed the beasts?
But what would you have, Glaucon? I replied.
Why, he said, you should give them the ordinary conveniences of life.
People who are to be comfortable are accustomed to lie on sofas, and
dine off tables, and they should have sauces and sweets in the modern
style.
Yes, I said, now I understand: the question which you would have me
consider is, not only how a State, but how a luxurious State is
created; and possibly there is no harm in this, for in such a State we
shall be more likely to see how justice and injustice originate. In my
opinion the true and healthy constitution of the State is the one which
I have described. But if you wish also to see a State at fever-heat, I
have no objection. For I suspect that many will not be satisfied with
the simpler way of life. They will be for adding sofas, and tables, and
other furniture; also dainties, and perfumes, and incense, and
courtesans, and cakes, all these not of one sort only, but in every
variety; we must go beyond the necessaries of which I was at first
speaking, such as houses, and clothes, and shoes: the arts of the
painter and the embroiderer will have to be set in motion, and gold and
ivory and all sorts of materials must be procured.
True, he said.
Then we must enlarge our borders; for the original healthy State is no
longer sufficient. Now will the city have to fill and swell with a
multitude of callings which are not required by any natural want; such
as the whole tribe of hunters and actors, of whom one large class have
to do with forms and colours; another will be the votaries of
music—poets and their attendant train of rhapsodists, players, dancers,
contractors; also makers of divers kinds of articles, including women’s
dresses. And we shall want more servants. Will not tutors be also in
request, and nurses wet and dry, tirewomen and barbers, as well as
confectioners and cooks; and swineherds, too, who were not needed and
therefore had no place in the former edition of our State, but are
needed now? They must not be forgotten: and there will be animals of
many other kinds, if people eat them.
Certainly.
And living in this way we shall have much greater need of physicians
than before?
Much greater.
And the country which was enough to support the original inhabitants
will be too small now, and not enough?
Quite true.
Then a slice of our neighbours’ land will be wanted by us for pasture
and tillage, and they will want a slice of ours, if, like ourselves,
they exceed the limit of necessity, and give themselves up to the
unlimited accumulation of wealth?
That, Socrates, will be inevitable.
And so we shall go to war, Glaucon. Shall we not?
Most certainly, he replied.
Then without determining as yet whether war does good or harm, thus
much we may affirm, that now we have discovered war to be derived from
causes which are also the causes of almost all the evils in States,
private as well as public.
Undoubtedly.
And our State must once more enlarge; and this time the enlargement
will be nothing short of a whole army, which will have to go out and
fight with the invaders for all that we have, as well as for the things
and persons whom we were describing above.
Why? he said; are they not capable of defending themselves?
No, I said; not if we were right in the principle which was
acknowledged by all of us when we were framing the State: the
principle, as you will remember, was that one man cannot practise many
arts with success.
Very true, he said.
But is not war an art?
Certainly.
And an art requiring as much attention as shoemaking?
Quite true.
And the shoemaker was not allowed by us to be a husbandman, or a
weaver, or a builder—in order that we might have our shoes well made;
but to him and to every other worker was assigned one work for which he
was by nature fitted, and at that he was to continue working all his
life long and at no other; he was not to let opportunities slip, and
then he would become a good workman. Now nothing can be more important
than that the work of a soldier should be well done. But is war an art
so easily acquired that a man may be a warrior who is also a