But shall we be right in getting rid of them? Reflect: our principle is that the good man will not consider death terrible to any other good man who is his comrade. Yes; that is our principle. And therefore he will not sorrow for his departed friend as though he had suffered anything terrible? He will not. Such an one, as we further maintain, is sufficient for himself *387E* and his own happiness, and therefore is least in need of other men. True, he said. And for this reason the loss of a son or brother, or the deprivation of fortune, is to him of all men least terrible. Assuredly. And therefore he will be least likely to lament, and will bear with the greatest equanimity any misfortune of this sort which may befall him. Yes, he will feel such a misfortune far less than another. Then we shall be right in getting rid of the lamentations of famous men, and making them over to women (and not *388A* even to women who are good for anything), or to men of a baser sort, that those who are being educated by us to be the defenders of their country may scorn to do the like. That will be very right. [Sidenote: Such are the laments of Achilles, and Priam, and of Zeus when he beholds the fate of Hector or Sarpedon.] Then we will once more entreat Homer and the other poets not to depict Achilles[8], who is the son of a goddess, first lying on his side, then on his back, and then on his face; then starting up and sailing in a frenzy along the shores of *388B* the barren sea; now taking the sooty ashes in both his hands[9] and pouring them over his head, or weeping and wailing in the various modes which Homer has delineated. Nor should he describe Priam the kinsman of the gods as praying and beseeching, 'Rolling in the dirt, calling each man loudly by his name[10].' {71} Still more earnestly will we beg of him at all events not to introduce the gods lamenting and saying, *388C* 'Alas! my misery! Alas! that I bore the bravest to my sorrow[11].' But if he must introduce the gods, at any rate let him not dare so completely to misrepresent the greatest of the gods, as to make him say-- 'O heavens! with my eyes verily I behold a dear friend of mine chased round and round the city, and my heart is sorrowful[12].' Or again:-- 'Woe is me that I am fated to have Sarpedon, dearest of *388D* men to me, subdued at the hands of Patroclus the son of Menoetius[13].' For if, my sweet Adeimantus, our youth seriously listen to such unworthy representations of the gods, instead of laughing at them as they ought, hardly will any of them deem that he himself, being but a man, can be dishonoured by similar actions; neither will he rebuke any inclination which may arise in his mind to say and do the like. And instead of having any shame or self-control, he will be always whining and lamenting on slight occasions. [Footnote 8: Il. xxiv. 10.] [Footnote 9: Ib. xviii. 23.] [Footnote 10: Ib. xxii. 414.] [Footnote 11: Il. xviii. 54.]