Professor Steven Smith:
Today I have the impossible task of finishing the parts of
the Republic that I have assigned for the class.
And in the past sometimes, I've assigned a full two weeks
to the Republic, which would be four lectures,
but because I wanted to do some other things with the course as
well, I had to cut the
Republic by one lecture, and now I'm paying for that
today. So I'm going to try to rush
through, unfortunately, a number of the major themes
regarding the creation of the just city,
the creation of Kallipolis and then try to end the class by
talking about, as I like to do for every
thinker, what does in this case,
what does Plato, what are his views on modern
America. What does Plato say to us today?
But I want to start with what is one of the grand themes of
the Republic, it is indicated in Book II by
Adeimantus' speech about self-control.
It is introduced further by the claims of Socrates to control,
to censor, to control the poetry and the arts of the city.
And this is the big theme of what one might call "the control
of the passions." This is the theme of every
great moralist from Spinoza to Kant to Freud.
How do we control the passions? And it is certainly a large
theme of Plato's theory of justice in the Republic.
Every great moral philosopher has a strategy for helping us
submit our passions to some kind of control, to some kind of
supervening moral power. And again, recall this is the
theme raised at the beginning of Book II by Adeimantus,
who puts forward an idea of self-control,
or what he calls self-guardianship as his goal.
How can we protect ourselves from the passion for injustice?
And one of the things Socrates emphasizes is that the most
powerful of those passions, the most powerful passion is
that Socratic passion that he calls thumos,
or what our translator has as spiritedness,
anger, maybe what biblical translators call heart,
having a big heart, having thumos and all of
that implies. This is for Plato,
the political passion par excellence.
It is a kind of fiery love of fame, love of distinction that
leads men and women of a certain type to pursue their ambitions
in public life, in the public space.
It is clearly connected this notion of spiritedness or this
thumotic quality to our capacities for heroism and for
self-sacrifice. But it is also connected to our
desires for domination and the desire to exercise tyranny over
others. Thumos has a kind of
dual component to it. It can lead us to a sense of
kind of righteous indignation and anger at the sight of
injustice, but it can also lead us in a
rather contradictory way to desire to dominate and tyrannize
over others. This is the quality that
Socrates regards as being possessed by every great
political leader and statesman, but it is also clearly a
quality possessed by every tyrant.
And the question posed by the Republic,
in many ways, the question around which the
book as a whole gravitates, is whether this thumotic
quality can be controlled. Can it be re-directed,
can it be re-channeled in the service of the public good?
Socrates introduces the problem of thumos by a story,
a particularly vivid story that I hope you all remember,
where in Book IV he tells the story about Leontius at the
walls. "Leontius," he writes,
"was proceeding from the Piraeus outside the north wall
when he perceived corpses lying near the public executioner.
At the same time, he desired to see them.
He wanted to see this grotesque sight, these dead bodies lying
there. And to the contrary,
he felt disgust and turned himself away and for a while he
battled with himself and hid his face.
But eventually overpowered by desire, he forced his eyes open
and rushing towards the corpses said 'see you damn wretches,
take your fill of this beautiful sight'" 439c.
That story that Socrates tells here is not one of reason
controlling the passions, but rather one of intense
internal conflict that Leontius felt.
We see his conflicting emotions both to see and not to see,
a sense that he wished to observe and yet he is at,
in some ways, at war with himself,
knowing to gawk, to stare at this sight.
There's something shameful about it and he felt shame.
One example I particularly like of this was suggested last year,
I think, by Justin Zaremby who said it's the emotion we all
feel when we're driving down the highway,
right, and we see a car crash or we go by a wreck and
everybody slows down, right, they all want to see.
What are they hoping to see? Well, they want to see blood,
they want to see if there's a body, they want to see how much
damage has been caused. And we've all been in this,
where we know that it's shameful to look at this,
just drive on, as Socrates would say "mind
your own business," and yet at the same time we feel,
even against our will, compelled to look and think
about that. And think about that and this
case of Leontius the next time you, for those of you who have
driver's licenses, are next driving on the highway
and see something like that. It is the thumos that is
the cause of--that should be the cause of your shame at slowing
down to look. Sometimes we can't help but
slow down because everybody is slowed down in front of us,
we have no choice. But anyway, that incident,
that story that Socrates relates is connected to the fact
that Leontius is a certain kind of man.
He regards himself as proud, independent,
someone who wants to be in control of his emotions but
isn't. He is a soul at war with
himself, and potentially therefore, at war with others.
And what the Republic tries to do is to offer us
strategies, maybe we might even call it a therapy,
for dealing with thumos, for submitting it to the
control of reason and helping us to achieve some level of
balance, of self-control and moderation.
And these are the qualities taken together that Socrates
calls justice, that can only be achieved when
reason is in control of the appetites and desires.
Again, a question the book asks is whether that ideal of justice
can be used as a model for politics.
Can it serve as a model for justice in the city?
This connection he has established between justice in
the city and justice in the soul,
what are the therapies or strategies for solving injustice
in the soul or imbalance of some kind in the soul?
Can those be transferred or translated in some way to public
justice, to political justice, justice in the polis? Right?
You with me on that so far? So, on the basis of this,
Socrates proposes how to proceed with the construction of
Kallipolis, and he does so through what he calls three
waves. There are three waves,
three waves of reform, so to speak,
that will contribute to the creation of the city.
The first of these waves is, you remember,
the restrictions on private property, even the abolition of
private property. The second, the abolition of
the family, and the third wave being the establishment of the
philosopher kings. Each of these waves is regarded
as in some way necessary for the proper construction of a just
city. And I'm not going to speak
about all of them, but I do want to speak a little
bit about, because it has particular
relevance for us, his proposals for the
co-education of men and women that is a great part of his
plan, especially related to the
abolition of the family, that men and women be educated
in the same way, right. The core of Socrates' proposal
for equal education is presented in a context that he knows to be
or suggests will be laughable. It will certainly be seen that
way, he suggests, by Glaucon and Adeimantus.
There is no job, he states, that cannot be
performed equally well by both men and women.
Is Socrates a feminist? Gender differences,
he says, are no more relevant when it comes to positions of
political rule than is the distinction between being bald
and being hairy. Socrates is not saying that men
and women are the same in every respect, he says,
but equal with respect to competing for any job at all.
There will be no glass ceilings in Kallipolis.
The first, in many ways, great defender,
the first great champion of the emancipation of women from the
household. But this proposal comes at
certain costs, he tells us.
The proposal for a level playing field demands,
of course, equal education. And here he says that men and
women, being submitted to the same regime, will mean,
among other things, that they will compete with one
another in co-educational gymnasia.
They will compete with each other in the nude because that
is the way Greeks exercised. They will compete naked in
co-educational gymnasia, think of that. Furthermore,
their marriages and their procreations will be,
he tells us, for the sake of the city.
There is nothing like romantic love among the members of the
guardian class. Sexual relations will be
intended purely for the sake of reproduction and unwanted
fetuses will be aborted. The only exception to this
prohibition is for members of the guardian class who are
beyond the age of reproduction, he tells us,
and they, he says, can have sex if they're still
able, with anyone they like. A kind of version of
recreational sex as a reward for a lifetime of self-control.
Child-bearing may be inevitable for women but the rearing of the
child will be the responsibility of the community or at least a
class of guardians and common daycare centers.
A sort of variation of Hillary Clinton's book that "it takes a
village to raise a child," comes right out of Plato apparently.
No child should know their biological parents and no parent
should know their child. The purpose of this scheme
being to eliminate senses of mine and me, to promote a kind
of common sense of esprit de corps among the members of
the guardian class, "a community of pleasure and
pain," Socrates calls it at 464a.
What we are creating is a community of pleasure and pain.
I will feel your pains, and of course you will feel
mine. The objections to Socrates,
are of course, you know, raised as early as by
Aristotle himself, in the very next generation.
How can we care for things, how can we truly care for
things that are common? We learn to care for things
that are closest to us, that are in some way our own.
We can only show proper love and concern for things that are
ours, not things that are common.
Common ownership, Aristotle argues,
will mean a sort of common neglect.
Children will not be raised better by putting them under the
common care of guardians or in daycares but they will be
equally neglected. But it is in this,
and you can think about that, about whether that's true or
not, but it is in the same context
of his treatment of men and women that something else often
goes unnoticed and that is Socrates' efforts to rewrite the
laws of war, because of course the guardians
are being trained and educated to be guards,
to be warriors, to be members of a military
class. In the first place,
he tells us, children must be taught the art
of war. This must be the beginning of
their education, Socrates says,
making the children spectators of war.
Children will be taken, he seems to suggest,
to battles and to sites of where fighting is going on,
to be spectators for them to become used to and habituated to
seeing war and what everything that goes on.
Not only is expulsion from the ranks of the guardians penalty
for cowardice, but Socrates suggests there
should be, listen to this, "erotic rewards for those who
excel in bravery." Erotic rewards for excellence
in bravery. Consider the following
remarkable proposal at 468c, "and I add to the laws of war,"
Socrates writes, "that as long as they,
the guardians, are on campaign,
no one whom he wants to kiss should be permitted to refuse.
So that if a man happens to love someone,
either male of female, he would be more eager to win
the rewards of valor." That is to say as a reward for
bravery, exhibited bravery, the hero should be allowed to
kiss anyone they like while they are on patrol,
male or female. A particularly puritanical
editor of Plato from the twentieth century writes in a
footnote to that passage, "this is almost the only
passage in Plato that one would wish to blot out,"
his sensibilities were offended by this notion.
But I wonder what kind of, if this might even make a
powerful incentive for military recruitment today. What do you think? Well, think about it.
I don't know. So, at long last,
we move from the education of the guards to justice.
What is justice, we've been questioning asking
ourselves throughout this book in which Plato has been,
Socrates has been teasing us with.
At long last we come to this thing.
The platonic idea of justice concerns harmony,
he tells us, both harmony in the city and
harmony in the soul. We learn that the two are
actually homologous in some way. Justice is defined as what
binds the city together and makes it one.
Or he puts it another way, consists of everyone and
everything performing those functions for which they are
best equipped. Each of the other citizens,
Socrates says, must be brought to that which
naturally suits him, which naturally suits him,
one man, one job, he says.
So that each man practicing his own which is one,
will not become many but one. Thus you see,
he says, the whole city will naturally grow up together.
Justice seems to mean adhering to the principal,
justice in the city, adhering to the principal of
division of labor. One man, one job,
everyone doing or performing the task that naturally fits or
suits them. One can, of course,
as you've already imagined, raise several objections to
this view and again Aristotle seems to take the lead.
Plato's excessive emphasis on unity would seem to destroy the
natural diversity of human beings that make up a city.
Is there one and only one thing that each person does best?
And if so, who could decide this?
Would such a plan of justice not be overly coercive in
forcing people into predefined social roles?
Shouldn't individuals be free to choose for themselves their
own plans of life wherever it may take them?
But however that may be, Plato believes he has found in
the formula of one man, one job, a certain foundation
for political justice. That is to say,
the three parts of the cities, workers, auxiliaries,
guardians, each of them all work together
and each by minding their own business, that is doing their
own job, out of this a certain kind of
peace and harmony will prevail. And since the city,
you remember, is simply the soul at large,
the three classes of the city merely express the three parts
of the soul. The soul is just,
he tells us, when the appetites,
spiritedness, and reason cooperate with
reason, ruling, spirit and appetite,
just as in the polis, the philosopher-king rules the
warriors and the workers. The result, he tells us,
is a kind of balance of the parts of the whole,
right. Justice is a kind of harmony in
which the three parts of the city and the three parts of the
soul are direct expressions of one another. But that formula forces us to
return to the original Socratic question about the harmony of
the soul and the city. Is the structure of a city
identical to the structure of a soul?
Are they really identical? Well, maybe, maybe not.
For example, every individual consists of
three parts, of appetite, spirit, and reason.
Yet each of us will be confined it seems to only one task in the
social hierarchy. I assume what Socrates means by
that is though each individual will, each of us,
embody all three features of soul, appetite,
spirit, and reason, only one of these will be the
dominate trait in each of us. Some of us will be dominantly
appetitive personalities, others will be dominantly
spirited and so on. But even still when we think of
it, if I am a member of the money making class,
I am still more than simply a bundle of desires and appetites,
just as a member of the warrior class would be clearly more than
mere thumos or mere spiritedness.
So, to confine the individual, it seems, to one and only one
sphere of life would seem to do an injustice to the internal
psychological complexity that makes each of us who we are.
Let's examine that problem from a slightly different point of
view. Socrates tells us repeatedly
that justice in the city consists of each member,
each citizen fulfilling his task in the social division of
labor, in the social hierarchy. But this seems to be a very far
cry, does it not, from the kind of justice he
talks about in the soul that consists in what we might think
of as sort of rational autonomy or self-control where reason
controls the passions and the appetites.
In fact, the vast majority of citizens in even the
platonically just city will not necessarily have platonically
just souls. The harmony and self-discipline
of the city will not be due, it seems, to each and every
member of the city but rather will rely on the guardian class,
that special class of philosopher kings who will rule,
let it be recalled, through selective lies,
myths, and other various kinds of deception.
So how can it be the case if at all, that you could have a just
city, that is to say a city where everyone is performing
their own task, they're following the division
of labor, and yet very few of those members will have,
so to speak, platonically just souls,
that is to say, souls dominated by a kind of
self-control or self-guardianship?
That would certainly not be true of the members of the
artisan class or the military class for that reason.
So the question, that question is posed,
that objection is posed by Adeimantus, you remember,
at the beginning of Book IV. "What would your apology be
Socrates," Adeimantus says, "if it were objected that
you're hardly making these men happy,
these people just," he says at 419a.
Adeimantus is concerned that Socrates is being unfair to the
auxiliaries and the guardians, giving them all the
responsibilities but none of the rewards, none of the pleasures
that would seem to be the reward of responsibility.
How can a citizen of Kallipolis live a just or happy life if he
or she is deprived of most of the goods or pleasures that we
seek? Socrates gives a rather lame
response. In founding the city,
he says, we are not looking to the exceptional happiness of any
one individual or any group but rather to the city as a whole.
And Adeimantus appears to accept that response,
oh yes, I forgot we are concerned with the happiness,
the justice of the whole. But his question is still one
that lingers and one that Plato includes for a purpose.
What about, how can you have a platonically just city if most
people in it, certainly most people of the
auxiliary class are deprived of the pleasures and the goods that
we desire? It's a question that lingers
and one might wonder whether Socrates ever successfully
answers that question. He silences Adeimantus in some
way as he silences Thrasymachus earlier;
that is not always to say that their objections have been
answered. And that leads,
as it were, to the third and final wave of paradox of the
Kallipolis which is the famous proposal for the
philosopher-king. What is Plato without the
philosopher-king? What is the Republic
without the philosopher-king? Unless the philosophers rule as
kings or those now called kings, genuinely philosophize,
there will be no rest from the ills for the cities,
he says, right? Socrates presents this
proposal, again, as outlandish.
He says he expects to be drowned in laughter.
And this has led some readers to suggest that the proposal for
philosophers' kings is ironical. That it is intended as a kind
of joke to, in many ways, discredit the idea of the just
city or at least to indicate its extreme implausibility.
The question is why does Socrates regard philosophic
kingship as required for Kallipolis, for the just city?
Let me say, I am by no means convinced that the idea for the
philosopher-king is an impossibility or is intended as
a kind of absurdity. Plato himself,
remember, made a number of trips to Sicily to serve as the
advisor to a king there, Dionysius, and all of these
missions failed and left him deeply dispirited.
The ambition in some ways to unite philosophy and politics
has been a recurring dream of political philosophy ever since
Plato. Socrates says he will be
drowned in laughter but many other people have taken this
dream or this aspiration very seriously.
Consider one thinker, and I will, I'm going to read
you a short passage and I'm going to come back to this again
later in the semester, from Thomas Hobbes'
Leviathan, chapter 31 of Leviathan,
where Hobbes gives us a very personal statement about his
intention in writing this book. Hobbes wrote,
"I am at the point of believing that my labors will be as
useless as the commonwealth of Plato."
He seems to be rather despairing about whether this
book is actually going to have any affect.
"I'm in the point of believing it will be as useless as the
commonwealth of Plato," for he also is of the opinion
that it is impossible for the disorders of state and change of
government by civil war ever to be taken away until sovereigns
be philosophers. But after admitting his despair
about the possibility of realizing his ideas and
practice, Hobbes continues as follows,
"I recover some hope," he says, "that one time or other,
this writing of mine may still fall into the hands of a
sovereign who will consider himself without the help of any
interested or envious interpreter.
And by the exercise of entire sovereignty in protecting the
public teaching of it, convert this truth of
speculation into the utility of practice."
So there you have Hobbes talking about his own book,
expecting or at least hoping it will fall into the hands of a
sovereign who one day, again, without envious or
self-interested interpreters may, may one day become a
practical source of guidance for statecraft.
Here it is Hobbes taking Plato's suggestion very
seriously, and we see this again very much in the history of
political philosophy in thinkers like Rousseau,
or Marx, or Nietzsche, or Machiavelli all of whom
sought to gain the ear of political leaders and convert
their ideas into some kind of practice.
But most of the objections to Plato's particular form of the
philosophic kingship really are centered on the practicality of
his idea. And beyond this,
there is the problem with the very cogency of the idea itself.
Consider the following, can philosophy and politics
actually be united? It would seem that the needs of
philosophy are quite different from the demands or requirements
of political rule. Can you imagine Socrates
willingly giving up one of his conversations for the tedious
business of legislation and public administration?
Can one imagine that? The philosopher is described by
Plato as someone with knowledge of the eternal forms,
lying behind or beyond the many particulars.
But just how does that kind of knowledge help us deal with the
constant ebb and flow of political life?
It seems not enough that the philosopher have knowledge of
the forms but this knowledge has to be supplemented by
experience, by judgment and by a kind of
practical rationality. Was Plato simply unaware of
this, I can't believe that. I don't believe that.
So the question is, what kind of unity was he
expecting of philosophy and politics?
Anyway, philosophers are not purely thinking machines but
they are also human beings composed of reason,
spiritedness, and appetite.
Will not even philosophers, one might ask,
given the possibility of absolute power be tempted to
abuse their positions? Maybe, maybe not, who knows.
So these are the questions, these are at least among the
questions that Socrates or Plato,
the author of the book, deliberately poses for us to
consider. So what is the doctrine of the
philosopher-king intended to prove?
Must the massive effort to construct the city in speech in
order to understand justice in the soul?
Is it a philosophical possibility?
Does he hold it out as a real possibility or must it be
considered a failure in some way or that if the dialogue does end
in failure what can we learn from that?
Those are questions I want you to consider.
But for now, what I want to do is talk about
Plato's democracy and ours. What does Plato teach us about
our own regime? Could Plato have imagined such
a regime? I think in many ways he can and
he did. In one sense,
the Republic, and I've given some indications
of this today, seems to be the most
anti-democratic book ever written.
Its defense of philosophic kingship is itself a direct
repudiation of Athenian democracy.
Its conception of justice, minding one's own business,
is a rejection of the democratic belief that citizens
have sufficient knowledge to participate in the offices of
government. To be sure, Athenian democracy
is not American democracy. Plato thought of democracy as a
kind of rule by the many that he associated with the unrestricted
freedom to do everything that one likes.
This seems in many ways to be quite far from the American
democracy based on constitutional government,
systems of checks and balances, protection of individual
rights, and so on. The differences between Athens
and Washington seem to be very far.
And yet, in many ways, Socrates diagnoses very
powerfully an important condition of modern democratic
life with which we are all familiar.
Consider this passage in Book VIII of the Republic that
I encourage you to read but is not on your assigned list.
Socrates writes in Book VIII, 561c, "speaking of the
democratic soul, the democratic man,
he also lives along day by day gratifying the desire that
occurs to him, at one time,
drinking and listening to the flute."
Today we have different kinds of music to substitute for the
flute but you get the point. Drinking and listening to the
flute, at another time downing water and dieting,
now practicing gymnastics and again idling and neglecting
everything, and sometimes spending his time as though he
were occupied with philosophizing.
Often, he engages in politics and jumping up,
says and does whatever chances to come to his mind.
And if he ever admires any soldiers, he turns in that
direction. And if money-makers in that one
and there is neither order nor necessity in this life but
calling this life sweet, free, and blessed,
he follows it throughout. Is that image of life at all
familiar to us? Doing anything you like,
it seems to be the opposite of the platonic understanding of
justice as each one doing a special function or fulfilling
or doing a special craft. Just doing whatever you like
and calling that sweet, free, and blessed throughout.
This account should be instantly recognizable as the
state of modern democracy in some ways.
There exists, as Plato and Socrates clearly
understand, a very real tendency within democracy to identify the
good human being, the good man with,
you might say, the good sport,
the regular guy, the cooperative fellow,
you know, someone who goes along and gets along with
others. By educating citizens to
cooperate with each other in a friendly manner,
democracy seems, so Plato is suggesting,
they stand in danger of devaluing people who are
prepared to stand alone, of rugged individualists who
will go down with the ship if need be.
It is precisely this kind of creeping conformism,
this kind of easy going toleration,
this sort of soft nihilism that democracies tend to foster in
which not only Plato, but modern thinkers like
Emmerson, and Tocqueville, and Mill, John Stewart Mill,
very much warned about. What bothers Socrates most
about our democracy is a certain kind of instability,
its tendency to be pulled between extremes of anarchy,
between lawlessness and tyranny.
It is in this section of the Republic,
Adeimantus asks, won't we with Aeschylus say
whatever comes to our lips? Won't we say with Aeschylus
whatever comes to our lips? The idea of having the liberty
to say whatever comes to our lips sounds to Plato like a kind
of blasphemy. The view that nothing is
shameful, that everything should be permitted,
to say whatever comes to our lips… There is a kind of
license that comes from the denial of any restraints on our
desires or a kind of relativistic belief that all
desires are equal and all should be permitted.
Plato's views on democracy were not all negative,
to be sure. He wasn't only a critic of
democracy. It was, after all,
a democracy that produced Socrates and allowed him to
philosophize freely until his seventieth year.
Would this have been permitted in any other city of the ancient
world? And he surely would not be
allowed to philosophize in many cities and countries today.
Remember the letter that Plato wrote near the end of his life,
when he compares the democracy to a golden age,
at least in comparison to what went after.
Plato here seems to agree with Winston Churchill that democracy
is the worst regime except for all the others. It's the worst that's been
tried except for everything else.
So what is the function of Kallipolis, this perfect,
this beautiful city? What purpose does it serve?
The philosopher-king, he tells us,
may be an object of hope or wish but Plato realizes that
this possibility is not really to be expected.
The philosophic city is introduced as a metaphor to help
us understand the education of the soul.
The reform of politics may not be within our power but the
exercise of self-control always is.
The first responsibility of the individual who wishes to engage
in political reform is to reform themselves.
All reform seems to begin at home.
And we see this very vividly when we look at so many
politicians today in public scolds who teach us and who are
hectoring us about living a certain way of life,
living a certain, living according to their likes
and then we will find out of course something very shameful
about them. I'm thinking of a couple of
people in particular, I won't mention any names in
the public sphere. Plato's judgment seems to be
"you need to reform yourself before you can think about
reforming others." This is a point that is often
lost in the Republic, that it is first of all a work
on the reform of the soul. That is not to say at all that
it teaches withdrawal from political responsibilities,
it does not. Philosophy and certainly
Socratic philosophy requires friends, comrades,
conversations. It is not something that can
simply be pursued in isolation. Socrates understands that those
who want to reform others must reform themselves,
but many who've tried to imitate him have been less
careful. It is easy to confuse,
as many people have done, the Republic, with a
recipe for tyranny. The twentieth century,
and even the beginnings of our own, is littered with the
corpses of those who have set themselves up as
philosopher-kings, Lenin, Stalin,
Hitler, Mao, Khamenei, to name just some of
the most obvious. But these men are not
philosophers. Their professions to justice
are just that, they are professions or
pretensions expressing their vanity and their ambition.
For Plato, philosophy was in the first instance,
a therapy for our passions in a way of setting limits to our
desires. And this is precisely the
opposite of the tyrant who Plato describes as a person of
limitless desires who lacks the most rudimentary kind of
governance, namely self-control.
The difference between the philosopher and the tyrant
illustrate two very different conceptions of philosophy.
For some, philosophy represents a form of liberation from
confusion, from unruly passions and prejudices,
from incoherence. Again, a therapy of the soul
that brings peace and contentment and a kind of
justice. And yet for others,
philosophy is the source of the desire to dominate.
It is the basis of tyranny in the great age of ideologies
through which we are still passing. The question is that both
tendencies are at work within philosophy and how do we
encourage one side but not the other.
As that great philosopher Karl Marx once asked,
"Who will educate the educators?"
It's the wisest thing he ever said.
Who will educate the educators, who do we turn to for help?
There is obviously no magic solution to this question but
the best answer I know of is Socrates.
He showed people how to live, and just as importantly,
he showed them how to die. He lived and died not like most
people but better, and even his most vehement
critics will admit to that. Thank you very much.
I'll see you next Wednesday, and we'll start Aristotle.
