Ath. And will he not be in a most wretched plight?
Cle. Most wretched.
Ath. Then not only an old man but also a drunkard becomes a secondtime a child?
Cle. Well said, Stranger.
Ath. Is there any argument which will prove to us that we ought toencourage the taste for drinking instead of doing all we can toavoid it?
Cle. I suppose that there is; you at any rate, were just nowsaying that you were ready to maintain such a doctrine.
Ath. True, I was; and I am ready still, seeing that you have bothdeclared that you are anxious to hear me.
Cle. To sure we are, if only for the strangeness of the paradox,which asserts that a man ought of his own accord to plunge intoutter degradation.
Ath. Are you speaking of the soul?
Cle. Yes.
Ath. And what would you say about the body, my friend? Are you notsurprised at any one of his own accord bringing upon himselfdeformity, leanness, ugliness, decrepitude?
Cle. Certainly.
Ath. Yet when a man goes of his own accord to a doctor"s shop, andtakes medicine, is he not aware that soon, and for many daysafterwards, he will be in a state of body which he would die ratherthan accept as the permanent condition of his life? Are not thosewho train in gymnasia, at first beginning reduced to a state ofweakness?
Cle. Yes, all that is well known.
Ath. Also that they go of their own accord for the sake of thesubsequent benefit?
Cle. Very good.
Ath. And we may conceive this to be true in the same way of otherpractices?
Cle. Certainly.
Ath. And the same view may be taken of the pastime of drinking wine,if we are right in supposing that the same good effect follows?
Cle. To be sure.
Ath. If such convivialities should turn out to have any advantageequal in importance to that of gymnastic, they are in their verynature to be preferred to mere bodily exercise, inasmuch as theyhave no accompaniment of pain.
Cle. True; but I hardly think that we shall be able to discoverany such benefits to be derived from them.
Ath. That is just what we must endeavour to show. And let me ask youa question:-Do we not distinguish two kinds of fear, which are verydifferent?
Cle. What are they?
Ath. There is the fear of expected evil.
Cle. Yes.
Ath. And there is the fear of an evil reputation; we are afraidof being thought evil, because we do or say some dishonourablething, which fear we and all men term shame.
Cle. Certainly.
Ath. These are the two fears, as I called them; one of which isthe opposite of pain and other fears, and the opposite also of thegreatest and most numerous sort of pleasures.
Cle. Very true.
Ath. And does not the legislator and every one who is good foranything, hold this fear in the greatest honour? This is what he termsreverence, and the confidence which is the reverse of this he termsinsolence; and the latter he always deems to be a very great evil bothto individuals and to states.
Cle. True.
Ath. Does not this kind of fear preserve us in many importantways? What is there which so surely gives victory and safety in war?
For there are two things which give victory-confidence before enemies,and fear of disgrace before friends.
Cle. There are.
Ath. Then each of us should be fearless and also fearful; and why weshould be either has now been determined.
Cle. Certainly.
Ath. And when we want to make any one fearless, we and the law bringhim face to face with many fears.
Cle. Clearly.
Ath. And when we want to make him rightly fearful, must we notintroduce him to shameless pleasures, and train him to take up armsagainst them, and to overcome them? Or does this principle apply tocourage only, and must he who would be perfect in valour fight againstand overcome his own natural character-since if he be unpractisedand inexperienced in such conflicts, he will not be half the man whichhe might have been-and are we to suppose, that with temperance it isotherwise, and that he who has never fought with the shameless andunrighteous temptations of his pleasures and lusts, and conqueredthem, in earnest and in play, by word, deed, and act, will still beperfectly temperate?
Cle. A most unlikely supposition.
Ath. Suppose that some God had given a fear-potion to men, andthat the more a man drank of this the more he regarded himself atevery draught as a child of misfortune, and that he fearedeverything happening or about to happen to him; and that at last themost courageous of men utterly lost his presence of mind for a time,and only came to himself again when he had slept off the influenceof the draught.
Cle. But has such a draught, Stranger, ever really been knownamong men?
Ath. No; but, if there had been, might not such a draught havebeen of use to the legislator as a test of courage? Might we not goand say to him, "O legislator, whether you are legislating for theCretan, or for any other state, would you not like to have atouchstone of the courage and cowardice of your citizens?"Cle. "I should," will be the answer of every one.