These words soothed up Glaucon, and won him to give ear to Socrates, who went on in this manner:—“But it is certain, my dear friend, that if you desire to be honoured, you must be useful to the State.” “Certainly,” said Glaucon. “I conjure you, then, to tell me,” replied Socrates, “what is the first service that you desire to render the State?” Glaucon was considering what to answer, when Socrates continued:—“If you intended to make the fortune of one of your friends, you would endeavour to make him rich, and thus perhaps you will make it your business to enrich the Republic.” “I would,” answered Glaucon. “Would not the way to enrich the Republic,” replied Socrates, “be to increase its revenue?” “It is very likely it would,” said Glaucon. “Tell me, then, in what consists the revenue of the State, and to how much it may amount? I presume you have particularly studied this matter, to the end that if anything should be lost on one hand, you might know where to make it good on another, and that if a fund should fail on a sudden, you might immediately be able to settle another in its place.” “I protest,” answered Glaucon, “I have never thought of this.” “Tell me at least the expenses of the Republic, for no doubt you intend to retrench the superfluous.” “I never thought of this neither,” said Glaucon. “You had best, then, put off to another time your design of enriching the Republic, which you can never be able to do while you are ignorant both of its expense and revenue.”
“There is another way to enrich a State,” said Glaucon, “of which you take no notice, and that is by the ruin of its enemies.” “You are in the right,” answered Socrates; “but to this end it is necessary to be stronger than they, otherwise we should run the hazard of losing what we have. He, therefore, who talks of undertaking a war, ought to know the strength on both sides, to the end that if his party be the stronger, he may boldly advise for war, and that if it be the weaker, he may dissuade the people from engaging themselves in so dangerous an enterprise.” “All this is true.” “Tell me, then,” continued Socrates, “how strong our forces are by sea and land, and how strong are our enemies?” “Indeed,” said Glaucon, “I cannot tell you that on a sudden.” “If you have a list of them in writing, pray show it me, I should be glad to hear it read.” “I never took a list of them.” “I see, then,” said Socrates, “that we shall not engage in war so soon; for it is like that the greatness of the undertaking will hinder you from maturely weighing all the consequences of it in the beginning of your government. But,” continued he, “you have thought of the defence of the country, you know what garrisons are necessary, and what are not; you know what number of troops is sufficient in one garrison, and not sufficient in another; you will cause the necessary garrisons to be reinforced, and will disband those that are useless?” “I should be of opinion,” said Glaucon, “to leave none