end of our analysis.

YOUNG SOCRATES: What was it?

STRANGER: Why, supposing we were ever so sure that there is such an
art as the art of rearing or feeding bipeds, there was no reason why
we should call this the royal or political art, as though there were no
more to be said.

YOUNG SOCRATES: Certainly not.

STRANGER: Our first duty, as we were saying, was to remodel the name,
so as to have the notion of care rather than of feeding, and then to
divide, for there may be still considerable divisions.

YOUNG SOCRATES: How can they be made?

STRANGER: First, by separating the divine shepherd from the human
guardian or manager.

YOUNG SOCRATES: True.

STRANGER: And the art of management which is assigned to man would again
have to be subdivided.

YOUNG SOCRATES: On what principle?

STRANGER: On the principle of voluntary and compulsory.

YOUNG SOCRATES: Why?

STRANGER: Because, if I am not mistaken, there has been an error here;
for our simplicity led us to rank king and tyrant together, whereas they
are utterly distinct, like their modes of government.

YOUNG SOCRATES: True.

STRANGER: Then, now, as I said, let us make the correction and divide
human care into two parts, on the principle of voluntary and compulsory.

YOUNG SOCRATES: Certainly.

STRANGER: And if we call the management of violent rulers tyranny, and
the voluntary management of herds of voluntary bipeds politics, may we
not further assert that he who has this latter art of management is the
true king and statesman?

YOUNG SOCRATES: I think, Stranger, that we have now completed the
account of the Statesman.

STRANGER: Would that we had, Socrates, but I have to satisfy myself
as well as you; and in my judgment the figure of the king is not
yet perfected; like statuaries who, in their too great haste, having
overdone the several parts of their work, lose time in cutting them
down, so too we, partly out of haste, partly out of a magnanimous desire
to expose our former error, and also because we imagined that a king
required grand illustrations, have taken up a marvellous lump of fable,
and have been obliged to use more than was necessary. This made us
discourse at large, and, nevertheless, the story never came to an end.
And our discussion might be compared to a picture of some living being
which had been fairly drawn in outline, but had not yet attained the
life and clearness which is given by the blending of colours. Now to
intelligent