him have the inseparable condition of all virtue, which
is temperance—not prudence, but that natural
temperance which is the gift of children and animals,
and is hardly reckoned among goods—with
this he must be endowed, if the state is to acquire
the form most conducive to happiness in the speediest
manner. And I must add one other condition:
the tyrant must be fortunate, and his good fortune
must consist in his having the co-operation of a great
legislator. When God has done all this, He has
done the best which He can for a state; not so well
if He has given them two legislators instead of one,
and less and less well if He has given them a great
many. An orderly tyranny most easily passes into
the perfect state; in the second degree, a monarchy;
in the third degree, a democracy; an oligarchy is
worst of all. ‘I do not understand.’
I suppose that you have never seen a city which is
subject to a tyranny? ’I have no desire
to see one.’ You would have seen what I
am describing, if you ever had. The tyrant can
speedily change the manners of a state, and affix the
stamp of praise or blame on any action which he pleases;
for the citizens readily follow the example which
he sets. There is no quicker way of making changes;
but there is a counterbalancing difficulty. It
is hard to find the divine love of temperance and
justice existing in any powerful form of government,
whether in a monarchy or an oligarchy. In olden
days there were chiefs like Nestor, who was the most
eloquent and temperate of mankind, but there is no
one his equal now. If such an one ever arises
among us, blessed will he be, and blessed they who
listen to his words. For where power and wisdom
and temperance meet in one, there are the best laws
and constitutions. I am endeavouring to show you
how easy under the conditions supposed, and how difficult
under any other, is the task of giving a city good
laws. ‘How do you mean?’ Let us old
men attempt to mould in words a constitution for your
new state, as children make figures out of wax.
’Proceed. What constitution shall we give—democracy,
oligarchy, or aristocracy?’ To which of these
classes, Megillus, do you refer your own state?
’The Spartan constitution seems to me to contain
all these elements. Our state is a democracy
and also an aristocracy; the power of the Ephors is
tyrannical, and we have an ancient monarchy.’
’Much the same,’ adds Cleinias, ‘may
be said of Cnosus.’ The reason is that you
have polities, but other states are mere aggregations
of men dwelling together, which are named after their
several ruling powers; whereas a state, if an ‘ocracy’
at all, should be called a theocracy. A tale of
old will explain my meaning. There is a tradition
of a golden age, in which all things were spontaneous
and abundant. Cronos, then lord of the world,
knew that no mortal nature could endure the temptations
of power, and therefore he appointed demons or demi-gods,
who are of a superior race, to have dominion over


