Plato
The Republic
Book VI
The Parable of the Sun:
. . . 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.
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.
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.
1
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?
2
Of that which you term light, I replied.
True, he said.
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.
3
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, 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 essence, but
far exceeds essence in dignity and power.
4
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.
The Divided Line:
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?
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?
5
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?
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.
6
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.
The Parable of the Cave:
And now I will describe in a figure the enlightenment or unenlightenment of our
nature:— Imagine human beings living in an underground den which is open
towards the light; they have been there from childhood, having their necks and
legs chained, and can only see into the den. At a distance there is a fire, and
between the fire and the prisoners a raised way, and a low wall is built along the
way, like the screen over which marionette players show their puppets. Behind the
wall appear moving figures, who hold in their hands various works of art, and
7
among them images of men and animals, wood and stone, and some of the
passers-by are talking and others silent. ‘A strange parable,’ he said, ‘and strange
captives.’ They are ourselves, I replied; and they see only the shadows of the
images which the fire throws on the wall of the den; to these they give names, and
if we add an echo which returns from the wall, the voices of the passengers will
seem to proceed from the shadows. Suppose now that you suddenly turn them
round and make them look with pain and grief to themselves at the real images;
will they believe them to be real? Will not their eyes be dazzled, and will they not
try to get away from the light to something which they are able to behold without
blinking? And suppose further, that they are dragged up a steep and rugged ascent
into the presence of the sun himself, will not their sight be darkened with the
excess of light? Some time will pass before they get the habit of perceiving at all;
and at first they will be able to perceive only shadows and reflections in the water;
then they will recognize the moon and the stars, and will at length behold the sun
in his own proper place as he is. Last of all they will conclude:— This is he who
gives us the year and the seasons, and is the author of all that we see. How will
they rejoice in passing from darkness to light! How worthless to them will seem
the honours and glories of the den! But now imagine further, that they descend
into their old habitations;— in that underground dwelling they will not see as well
as their fellows, and will not be able to compete with them in the measurement of
the shadows on the wall; there will be many jokes about the man who went on a
visit to the sun and lost his eyes, and if they find anybody trying to set free and
enlighten one of their number, they will put him to death, if they can catch him.
Now the cave or den is the world of sight, the fire is the sun, the way upwards is
the way to knowledge, and in the world of knowledge the idea of good is last seen
and with difficulty, but when seen is inferred to be the author of good and right —
parent of the lord of light in this world, and of truth and understanding in the
other. He who attains to the beatific vision is always going upwards; he is
unwilling to descend into political assemblies and courts of law; for his eyes are
apt to blink at the images or shadows of images which they behold in them — he
cannot enter into the ideas of those who have never in their lives understood the
relation of the shadow to the substance. But blindness is of two kinds, and may be
caused either by passing out of darkness into light or out of light into darkness,
and a man of sense will distinguish between them, and will not laugh equally at
both of them, but the blindness which arises from fulness of light he will deem
blessed, and pity the other; or if he laugh at the puzzled soul looking at the sun, he
will have more reason to laugh than the inhabitants of the den at those who
descend from above.
8
Purchase answer to see full
attachment