“It comes into my mind too,” continued Socrates, “that you have never been at the mines of silver, to examine why they bring not in so much now as they did formerly.” “You say true, I have never been there.” “Indeed, they say the place is very unhealthy, and that may excuse you.” “You rally me now,” said Glaucon. Socrates added, “But I believe you have at least observed how much corn our lands produce, how long it will serve to supply our city, and how much more we shall want for the whole year, to the end you may not be surprised with a scarcity of bread, but may give timely orders for the necessary provisions.” “There is a deal to do,” said Glaucon, “if we must take care of all these things.” “There is so,” replied Socrates; “and it is even impossible to manage our own families well unless we know all that is wanting, and take care to provide it. As you see, therefore, that our city is composed of above ten thousand families, and it being a difficult task to watch over them all at once, why did you not first try to retrieve your uncle’s affairs, which are running to decay, that after having given a proof of your care, faithfulness, and capacity in that smaller trust, you might have taken upon you a greater? But now, when you find yourself incapable of aiding a private man, how can you think of behaving yourself so as to be useful to a whole people? Ought a man who has not strength enough to carry a hundred pound weight undertake to carry a burden that is much heavier?” “I would have done good service to my uncle,” said Glaucon, “if he would have taken my advice.” “How!” replied Socrates; “have you hitherto been unable to govern your uncle, who is but one person, and do you imagine, when you have failed in that, to govern the whole Athenians, whose minds are so fickle and inconstant? Take heed, my dear Glaucon, take heed, lest a too great desire of glory should render you despised. Consider how dangerous it is to speak and employ ourselves about things we do not understand. What a figure do those forward and rash people make in the world who do so: and you yourself may judge whether they acquire more esteem than blame, whether they are more admired than contemned. Think, on the contrary, with how much honour a man is regarded who understands perfectly what he says and what he does, and then you will confess that renown and applause have always been the recompense of true merit, and shame the reward of ignorance and temerity. If, therefore, you would be honoured, endeavour to be a man of true merit, for if you enter upon the government of the Republic with a mind more sagacious than usual, I shall not wonder if you succeed in all your designs.”