Introduction and Analysis (part 2)

The care of the agora will fall to the wardens of the agora. Their first duty will be the regulation of the temples which surround the market-place; and their second to see that the markets are orderly and that fair dealing is observed. They will also take care that the sales which the citizens are required to make to strangers are duly executed. The law shall be, that on the first day of each month the auctioneers to whom the sale is entrusted shall offer grain; and at this sale a twelfth part of the whole shall be exposed, and the foreigner shall supply his wants for a month. On the tenth, there shall be a sale of liquids, and on the twenty-third of animals, skins, woven or woollen stuffs, and other things which husbandmen have to sell and foreigners want to buy. None of these commodities, any more than barley or flour, or any other food, may be retailed by a citizen to a citizen; but foreigners may sell them to one another in the foreigners' market. There must also be butchers who will sell parts of animals to foreigners and craftsmen, and their servants; and foreigners may buy firewood wholesale of the commissioners of woods, and may sell retail to foreigners. All other goods must be sold in the market, at some place indicated by the magistrates, and shall be paid for on the spot. He who gives credit, and is cheated, will have no redress. In buying or selling, any excess or diminution of what the law allows shall be registered. The same rule is to be observed about the property of metics. Anybody who practises a handicraft may come and remain twenty years from the day on which he is enrolled; at the expiration of this time he shall take what he has and depart. The only condition which is to be imposed upon him as the tax of his sojourn is good conduct; and he is not to pay any tax for being allowed to buy or sell. But if he wants to extend the time of his sojourn, and has done any service to the state, and he can persuade the council and assembly to grant his request, he may remain. The children of metics may also be metics; and the period of twenty years, during which they are permitted to sojourn, is to count, in their case, from their fifteenth year.

No mention occurs in the Laws of the doctrine of Ideas. The will of God, the authority of the legislator, and the dignity of the soul, have taken their place in the mind of Plato. If we ask what is that truth or principle which, towards the end of his life, seems to have absorbed him most, like the idea of good in the Republic, or of beauty in the Symposium, or of the unity of virtue in the Protagoras, we should answer—The priority of the soul to the body: his later system mainly hangs upon this. In the Laws, as in the Sophist and Statesman, we pass out of the region of metaphysical or transcendental ideas into that of psychology.

The opening of the fifth book, though abrupt and unconnected in style, is one of the most elevated passages in Plato. The religious feeling which he seeks to diffuse over the commonest actions of life, the blessedness of living in the truth, the great mistake of a man living for himself, the pity as well as anger which should be felt at evil, the kindness due to the suppliant and the stranger, have the temper of Christian philosophy. The remark that elder men, if they want to educate others, should begin by educating themselves; the necessity of creating a spirit of obedience in the citizens; the desirableness of limiting property; the importance of parochial districts, each to be placed under the protection of some God or demigod, have almost the tone of a modern writer. In many of his views of politics, Plato seems to us, like some politicians of our own time, to be half socialist, half conservative.

In the Laws, we remark a change in the place assigned by him to pleasure and pain. There are two ways in which even the ideal systems of morals may regard them: either like the Stoics, and other ascetics, we may say that pleasure must be eradicated; or if this seems unreal to us, we may affirm that virtue is the true pleasure; and then, as Aristotle says, 'to be brought up to take pleasure in what we ought, exercises a great and paramount influence on human life' (Arist. Eth. Nic.). Or as Plato says in the Laws, 'A man will recognize the noblest life as having the greatest pleasure and the least pain, if he have a true taste.' If we admit that pleasures differ in kind, the opposition between these two modes of speaking is rather verbal than real; and in the greater part of the writings of Plato they alternate with each other. In the Republic, the mere suggestion that pleasure may be the chief good, is received by Socrates with a cry of abhorrence; but in the Philebus, innocent pleasures vindicate their right to a place in the scale of goods. In the Protagoras, speaking in the person of Socrates rather than in his own, Plato admits the calculation of pleasure to be the true basis of ethics, while in the Phaedo he indignantly denies that the exchange of one pleasure for another is the exchange of virtue. So wide of the mark are they who would attribute to Plato entire consistency in thoughts or words.

He acknowledges that the second state is inferior to the first—in this, at any rate, he is consistent; and he still casts longing eyes upon the ideal. Several features of the first are retained in the second: the education of men and women is to be as far as possible the same; they are to have common meals, though separate, the men by themselves, the women with their children; and they are both to serve in the army; the citizens, if not actually communists, are in spirit communistic; they are to be lovers of equality; only a certain amount of wealth is permitted to them, and their burdens and also their privileges are to be proportioned to this. The constitution in the Laws is a timocracy of wealth, modified by an aristocracy of merit. Yet the political philosopher will observe that the first of these two principles is fixed and permanent, while the latter is uncertain and dependent on the opinion of the multitude. Wealth, after all, plays a great part in the Second Republic of Plato. Like other politicians, he deems that a property qualification will contribute stability to the state. The four classes are derived from the constitution of Athens, just as the form of the city, which is clustered around a citadel set on a hill, is suggested by the Acropolis at Athens. Plato, writing under Pythagorean influences, seems really to have supposed that the well-being of the city depended almost as much on the number 5040 as on justice and moderation. But he is not prevented by Pythagoreanism from observing the effects which climate and soil exercise on the characters of nations.

He was doubtful in the Republic whether the ideal or communistic state could be realized, but was at the same time prepared to maintain that whether it existed or not made no difference to the philosopher, who will in any case regulate his life by it (Republic). He has now lost faith in the practicability of his scheme—he is speaking to 'men, and not to Gods or sons of Gods' (Laws). Yet he still maintains it to be the true pattern of the state, which we must approach as nearly as possible: as Aristotle says, 'After having created a more general form of state, he gradually brings it round to the other' (Pol.). He does not observe, either here or in the Republic, that in such a commonwealth there would be little room for the development of individual character. In several respects the second state is an improvement on the first, especially in being based more distinctly on the dignity of the soul. The standard of truth, justice, temperance, is as high as in the Republic;—in one respect higher, for temperance is now regarded, not as a virtue, but as the condition of all virtue. It is finally acknowledged that the virtues are all one and connected, and that if they are separated, courage is the lowest of them. The treatment of moral questions is less speculative but more human. The idea of good has disappeared; the excellences of individuals—of him who is faithful in a civil broil, of the examiner who is incorruptible, are the patterns to which the lives of the citizens are to conform. Plato is never weary of speaking of the honour of the soul, which can only be honoured truly by being improved. To make the soul as good as possible, and to prepare her for communion with the Gods in another world by communion with divine virtue in this, is the end of life. If the Republic is far superior to the Laws in form and style, and perhaps in reach of thought, the Laws leave on the mind of the modern reader much more strongly the impression of a struggle against evil, and an enthusiasm for human improvement. When Plato says that he must carry out that part of his ideal which is practicable, he does not appear to have reflected that part of an ideal cannot be detached from the whole.

The great defect of both his constitutions is the fixedness which he seeks to impress upon them. He had seen the Athenian empire, almost within the limits of his own life, wax and wane, but he never seems to have asked himself what would happen if, a century from the time at which he was writing, the Greek character should have as much changed as in the century which had preceded. He fails to perceive that the greater part of the political life of a nation is not that which is given them by their legislators, but that which they give themselves. He has never reflected that without progress there cannot be order, and that mere order can only be preserved by an unnatural and despotic repression. The possibility of a great nation or of an universal empire arising never occurred to him. He sees the enfeebled and distracted state of the Hellenic world in his own later life, and thinks that the remedy is to make the laws unchangeable. The same want of insight is apparent in his judgments about art. He would like to have the forms of sculpture and of music fixed as in Egypt. He does not consider that this would be fatal to the true principles of art, which, as Socrates had himself taught, was to give life (Xen. Mem.). We wonder how, familiar as he was with the statues of Pheidias, he could have endured the lifeless and half-monstrous works of Egyptian sculpture. The 'chants of Isis' (Laws), we might think, would have been barbarous in an Athenian ear. But although he is aware that there are some things which are not so well among 'the children of the Nile,' he is deeply struck with the stability of Egyptian institutions. Both in politics and in art Plato seems to have seen no way of bringing order out of disorder, except by taking a step backwards. Antiquity, compared with the world in which he lived, had a sacredness and authority for him: the men of a former age were supposed by him to have had a sense of reverence which was wanting among his contemporaries. He could imagine the early stages of civilization; he never thought of what the future might bring forth. His experience is confined to two or three centuries, to a few Greek states, and to an uncertain report of Egypt and the East. There are many ways in which the limitations of their knowledge affected the genius of the Greeks. In criticism they were like children, having an acute vision of things which were near to them, blind to possibilities which were in the distance.

The colony is to receive from the mother-country her original constitution, and some of the first guardians of the law. The guardians of the law are to be ministers of justice, and the president of education is to take precedence of them all. They are to keep the registers of property, to make regulations for trade, and they are to be superannuated at seventy years of age. Several questions of modern politics, such as the limitation of property, the enforcement of education, the relations of classes, are anticipated by Plato. He hopes that in his state will be found neither poverty nor riches; every man having the necessaries of life, he need not go fortune-hunting in marriage. Almost in the spirit of the Gospel he would say, 'How hardly can a rich man dwell in a perfect state.' For he cannot be a good man who is always gaining too much and spending too little (Laws; compare Arist. Eth. Nic.). Plato, though he admits wealth as a political element, would deny that material prosperity can be the foundation of a really great community. A man's soul, as he often says, is more to be esteemed than his body; and his body than external goods. He repeats the complaint which has been made in all ages, that the love of money is the corruption of states. He has a sympathy with thieves and burglars, 'many of whom are men of ability and greatly to be pitied, because their souls are hungering and thirsting all their lives long;' but he has little sympathy with shopkeepers or retailers, although he makes the reflection, which sometimes occurs to ourselves, that such occupations, if they were carried on honestly by the best men and women, would be delightful and honourable. For traders and artisans a moderate gain was, in his opinion, best. He has never, like modern writers, idealized the wealth of nations, any more than he has worked out the problems of political economy, which among the ancients had not yet grown into a science. The isolation of Greek states, their constant wars, the want of a free industrial population, and of the modern methods and instruments of 'credit,' prevented any great extension of commerce among them; and so hindered them from forming a theory of the laws which regulate the accumulation and distribution of wealth.

The constitution of the army is aristocratic and also democratic; official appointment is combined with popular election. The two principles are carried out as follows: The guardians of the law nominate generals out of whom three are chosen by those who are or have been of the age for military service; and the generals elected have the nomination of certain of the inferior officers. But if either in the case of generals or of the inferior officers any one is ready to swear that he knows of a better man than those nominated, he may put the claims of his candidate to the vote of the whole army, or of the division of the service which he will, if elected, command. There is a general assembly, but its functions, except at elections, are hardly noticed. In the election of the Boule, Plato again attempts to mix aristocracy and democracy. This is effected, first as in the Servian constitution, by balancing wealth and numbers; for it cannot be supposed that those who possessed a higher qualification were equal in number with those who had a lower, and yet they have an equal number of representatives. In the second place, all classes are compelled to vote in the election of senators from the first and second class; but the fourth class is not compelled to elect from the third, nor the third and fourth from the fourth. Thirdly, out of the 180 persons who are thus chosen from each of the four classes, 720 in all, 360 are to be taken by lot; these form the council for the year.

These political adjustments of Plato's will be criticised by the practical statesman as being for the most part fanciful and ineffectual. He will observe, first of all, that the only real check on democracy is the division into classes. The second of the three proposals, though ingenious, and receiving some light from the apathy to politics which is often shown by the higher classes in a democracy, would have little power in times of excitement and peril, when the precaution was most needed. At such political crises, all the lower classes would vote equally with the higher. The subtraction of half the persons chosen at the first election by the chances of the lot would not raise the character of the senators, and is open to the objection of uncertainty, which necessarily attends this and similar schemes of double representative government. Nor can the voters be expected to retain the continuous political interest required for carrying out such a proposal as Plato's. Who could select 180 persons of each class, fitted to be senators? And whoever were chosen by the voter in the first instance, his wishes might be neutralized by the action of the lot. Yet the scheme of Plato is not really so extravagant as the actual constitution of Athens, in which all the senators appear to have been elected by lot (apo kuamou bouleutai), at least, after the revolution made by Cleisthenes; for the constitution of the senate which was established by Solon probably had some aristocratic features, though their precise nature is unknown to us. The ancients knew that election by lot was the most democratic of all modes of appointment, seeming to say in the objectionable sense, that 'one man is as good as another.' Plato, who is desirous of mingling different elements, makes a partial use of the lot, which he applies to candidates already elected by vote. He attempts also to devise a system of checks and balances such as he supposes to have been intended by the ancient legislators. We are disposed to say to him, as he himself says in a remarkable passage, that 'no man ever legislates, but accidents of all sorts, which legislate for us in all sorts of ways. The violence of war and the hard necessity of poverty are constantly overturning governments and changing laws.' And yet, as he adds, the true legislator is still required: he must co-operate with circumstances. Many things which are ascribed to human foresight are the result of chance. Ancient, and in a less degree modern political constitutions, are never consistent with themselves, because they are never framed on a single design, but are added to from time to time as new elements arise and gain the preponderance in the state. We often attribute to the wisdom of our ancestors great political effects which have sprung unforeseen from the accident of the situation. Power, not wisdom, is most commonly the source of political revolutions. And the result, as in the Roman Republic, of the co-existence of opposite elements in the same state is, not a balance of power or an equable progress of liberal principles, but a conflict of forces, of which one or other may happen to be in the ascendant. In Greek history, as well as in Plato's conception of it, this 'progression by antagonism' involves reaction: the aristocracy expands into democracy and returns again to tyranny.

The constitution of the Laws may be said to consist, besides the magistrates, mainly of three elements,—an administrative Council, the judiciary, and the Nocturnal Council, which is an intellectual aristocracy, composed of priests and the ten eldest guardians of the law and some younger co-opted members. To this latter chiefly are assigned the functions of legislation, but to be exercised with a sparing hand. The powers of the ordinary council are administrative rather than legislative. The whole number of 360, as in the Athenian constitution, is distributed among the months of the year according to the number of the tribes. Not more than one-twelfth is to be in office at once, so that the government would be made up of twelve administrations succeeding one another in the course of the year. They are to exercise a general superintendence, and, like the Athenian counsellors, are to preside in monthly divisions over all assemblies. Of the ecclesia over which they presided little is said, and that little relates to comparatively trifling duties. Nothing is less present to the mind of Plato than a House of Commons, carrying on year by year the work of legislation. For he supposes the laws to be already provided. As little would he approve of a body like the Roman Senate. The people and the aristocracy alike are to be represented, not by assemblies, but by officers elected for one or two years, except the guardians of the law, who are elected for twenty years.

The evils of this system are obvious. If in any state, as Plato says in the Statesman, it is easier to find fifty good draught-players than fifty good rulers, the greater part of the 360 who compose the council must be unfitted to rule. The unfitness would be increased by the short period during which they held office. There would be no traditions of government among them, as in a Greek or Italian oligarchy, and no individual would be responsible for any of their acts. Everything seems to have been sacrificed to a false notion of equality, according to which all have a turn of ruling and being ruled. In the constitution of the Magnesian state Plato has not emancipated himself from the limitations of ancient politics. His government may be described as a democracy of magistrates elected by the people. He never troubles himself about the political consistency of his scheme. He does indeed say that the greater part of the good of this world arises, not from equality, but from proportion, which he calls the judgment of Zeus (compare Aristotle's Distributive Justice), but he hardly makes any attempt to carry out the principle in practice. There is no attempt to proportion representation to merit; nor is there any body in his commonwealth which represents the life either of a class or of the whole state. The manner of appointing magistrates is taken chiefly from the old democratic constitution of Athens, of which it retains some of the worst features, such as the use of the lot, while by doing away with the political character of the popular assembly the mainspring of the machine is taken out. The guardians of the law, thirty-seven in number, of whom the ten eldest reappear as a part of the Nocturnal Council at the end of the twelfth book, are to be elected by the whole military class, but they are to hold office for twenty years, and would therefore have an oligarchical rather than a democratic character. Nothing is said of the manner in which the functions of the Nocturnal Council are to be harmonized with those of the guardians of the law, or as to how the ordinary council is related to it.

Similar principles are applied to inferior offices. To some the appointment is made by vote, to others by lot. In the elections to the priesthood, Plato endeavours to mix or balance in a friendly manner 'demus and not demus.' The commonwealth of the Laws, like the Republic, cannot dispense with a spiritual head, which is the same in both—the oracle of Delphi. From this the laws about all divine things are to be derived. The final selection of the Interpreters, the choice of an heir for a vacant lot, the punishment for removing a deposit, are also to be determined by it. Plato is not disposed to encourage amateur attempts to revive religion in states. For, as he says in the Laws, 'To institute religious rites is the work of a great intelligence.'

Though the council is framed on the model of the Athenian Boule, the law courts of Plato do not equally conform to the pattern of the Athenian dicasteries. Plato thinks that the judges should speak and ask questions:—this is not possible if they are numerous; he would, therefore, have a few judges only, but good ones. He is nevertheless aware that both in public and private suits there must be a popular element. He insists that the whole people must share in the administration of justice—in public causes they are to take the first step, and the final decision is to remain with them. In private suits they are also to retain a share; 'for the citizen who has no part in the administration of justice is apt to think that he has no share in the state. For this reason there is to be a court of law in every tribe (i.e. for about every 2,000 citizens), and the judges are to be chosen by lot.' Of the courts of law he gives what he calls a superficial sketch. Nor, indeed is it easy to reconcile his various accounts of them. It is however clear that although some officials, like the guardians of the law, the wardens of the agora, city, and country have power to inflict minor penalties, the administration of justice is in the main popular. The ingenious expedient of dividing the questions of law and fact between a judge and jury, which would have enabled Plato to combine the popular element with the judicial, did not occur to him or to any other ancient political philosopher. Though desirous of limiting the number of judges, and thereby confining the office to persons specially fitted for it, he does not seem to have understood that a body of law must be formed by decisions as well as by legal enactments.

He would have men in the first place seek justice from their friends and neighbours, because, as he truly remarks, they know best the questions at issue; these are called in another passage arbiters rather than judges. But if they cannot settle the matter, it is to be referred to the courts of the tribes, and a higher penalty is to be paid by the party who is unsuccessful in the suit. There is a further appeal allowed to the select judges, with a further increase of penalty. The select judges are to be appointed by the magistrates, who are to choose one from every magistracy. They are to be elected annually, and therefore probably for a year only, and are liable to be called to account before the guardians of the law. In cases of which death is the penalty, the trial takes place before a special court, which is composed of the guardians of the law and of the judges of appeal.

In treating of the subject in Book ix, he proposes to leave for the most part the methods of procedure to a younger generation of legislators; the procedure in capital causes he determines himself. He insists that the vote of the judges shall be given openly, and before they vote they are to hear speeches from the plaintiff and defendant. They are then to take evidence in support of what has been said, and to examine witnesses. The eldest judge is to ask his questions first, and then the second, and then the third. The interrogatories are to continue for three days, and the evidence is to be written down. Apparently he does not expect the judges to be professional lawyers, any more than he expects the members of the council to be trained statesmen.

In forming marriage connexions, Plato supposes that the public interest will prevail over private inclination. There was nothing in this very shocking to the notions of Greeks, among whom the feeling of love towards the other sex was almost deprived of sentiment or romance. Married life is to be regulated solely with a view to the good of the state. The newly-married couple are not allowed to absent themselves from their respective syssitia, even during their honeymoon; they are to give their whole mind to the procreation of children; their duties to one another at a later period of life are not a matter about which the state is equally solicitous. Divorces are readily allowed for incompatibility of temper. As in the Republic, physical considerations seem almost to exclude moral and social ones. To modern feelings there is a degree of coarseness in Plato's treatment of the subject. Yet he also makes some shrewd remarks on marriage, as for example, that a man who does not marry for money will not be the humble servant of his wife. And he shows a true conception of the nature of the family, when he requires that the newly-married couple 'should leave their father and mother,' and have a separate home. He also provides against extravagance in marriage festivals, which in some states of society, for instance in the case of the Hindoos, has been a social evil of the first magnitude.

In treating of property, Plato takes occasion to speak of property in slaves. They are to be treated with perfect justice; but, for their own sake, to be kept at a distance. The motive is not so much humanity to the slave, of which there are hardly any traces (although Plato allows that many in the hour of peril have found a slave more attached than members of their own family), but the self-respect which the freeman and citizen owes to himself (compare Republic). If they commit crimes, they are doubly punished; if they inform against illegal practices of their masters, they are to receive a protection, which would probably be ineffectual, from the guardians of the law; in rare cases they are to be set free. Plato still breathes the spirit of the old Hellenic world, in which slavery was a necessity, because leisure must be provided for the citizen.

The education propounded in the Laws differs in several points from that of the Republic. Plato seems to have reflected as deeply and earnestly on the importance of infancy as Rousseau, or Jean Paul (compare the saying of the latter—'Not the moment of death, but the moment of birth, is probably the more important'). He would fix the amusements of children in the hope of fixing their characters in after-life. In the spirit of the statesman who said, 'Let me make the ballads of a country, and I care not who make their laws,' Plato would say, 'Let the amusements of children be unchanged, and they will not want to change the laws. The 'Goddess Harmonia' plays a great part in Plato's ideas of education. The natural restless force of life in children, 'who do nothing but roar until they are three years old,' is gradually to be reduced to law and order. As in the Republic, he fixes certain forms in which songs are to be composed: (1) they are to be strains of cheerfulness and good omen; (2) they are to be hymns or prayers addressed to the Gods; (3) they are to sing only of the lawful and good. The poets are again expelled or rather ironically invited to depart; and those who remain are required to submit their poems to the censorship of the magistrates. Youth are no longer compelled to commit to memory many thousand lyric and tragic Greek verses; yet, perhaps, a worse fate is in store for them. Plato has no belief in 'liberty of prophesying'; and having guarded against the dangers of lyric poetry, he remembers that there is an equal danger in other writings. He cannot leave his old enemies, the Sophists, in possession of the field; and therefore he proposes that youth shall learn by heart, instead of the compositions of poets or prose writers, his own inspired work on laws. These, and music and mathematics, are the chief parts of his education.

Mathematics are to be cultivated, not as in the Republic with a view to the science of the idea of good,—though the higher use of them is not altogether excluded,—but rather with a religious and political aim. They are a sacred study which teaches men how to distribute the portions of a state, and which is to be pursued in order that they may learn not to blaspheme about astronomy. Against three mathematical errors Plato is in profound earnest. First, the error of supposing that the three dimensions of length, breadth, and height, are really commensurable with one another. The difficulty which he feels is analogous to the difficulty which he formerly felt about the connexion of ideas, and is equally characteristic of ancient philosophy: he fixes his mind on the point of difference, and cannot at the same time take in the similarity. Secondly, he is puzzled about the nature of fractions: in the Republic, he is disposed to deny the possibility of their existence. Thirdly, his optimism leads him to insist (unlike the Spanish king who thought that he could have improved on the mechanism of the heavens) on the perfect or circular movement of the heavenly bodies. He appears to mean, that instead of regarding the stars as overtaking or being overtaken by one another, or as planets wandering in many paths, a more comprehensive survey of the heavens would enable us to infer that they all alike moved in a circle around a centre (compare Timaeus; Republic). He probably suspected, though unacquainted with the true cause, that the appearance of the heavens did not agree with the reality: at any rate, his notions of what was right or fitting easily overpowered the results of actual observation. To the early astronomers, who lived at the revival of science, as to Plato, there was nothing absurd in a priori astronomy, and they would probably have made fewer real discoveries of they had followed any other track. (Compare Introduction to the Republic.)

The science of dialectic is nowhere mentioned by name in the Laws, nor is anything said of the education of after-life. The child is to begin to learn at ten years of age: he is to be taught reading and writing for three years, from ten to thirteen, and no longer; and for three years more, from thirteen to sixteen, he is to be instructed in music. The great fault which Plato finds in the contemporary education is the almost total ignorance of arithmetic and astronomy, in which the Greeks would do well to take a lesson from the Egyptians (compare Republic). Dancing and wrestling are to have a military character, and women as well as men are to be taught the use of arms. The military spirit which Plato has vainly endeavoured to expel in the first two books returns again in the seventh and eighth. He has evidently a sympathy with the soldier, as well as with the poet, and he is no mean master of the art, or at least of the theory, of war (compare Laws; Republic), though inclining rather to the Spartan than to the Athenian practice of it (Laws). Of a supreme or master science which was to be the 'coping-stone' of the rest, few traces appear in the Laws. He seems to have lost faith in it, or perhaps to have realized that the time for such a science had not yet come, and that he was unable to fill up the outline which he had sketched. There is no requirement that the guardians of the law shall be philosophers, although they are to know the unity of virtue, and the connexion of the sciences. Nor are we told that the leisure of the citizens, when they are grown up, is to be devoted to any intellectual employment. In this respect we note a falling off from the Republic, but also there is 'the returning to it' of which Aristotle speaks in the Politics. The public and family duties of the citizens are to be their main business, and these would, no doubt, take up a great deal more time than in the modern world we are willing to allow to either of them. Plato no longer entertains the idea of any regular training to be pursued under the superintendence of the state from eighteen to thirty, or from thirty to thirty-five; he has taken the first step downwards on 'Constitution Hill' (Republic). But he maintains as earnestly as ever that 'to men living under this second polity there remains the greatest of all works, the education of the soul,' and that no bye-work should be allowed to interfere with it. Night and day are not long enough for the consummation of it.

Few among us are either able or willing to carry education into later life; five or six years spent at school, three or four at a university, or in the preparation for a profession, an occasional attendance at a lecture to which we are invited by friends when we have an hour to spare from house-keeping or money-making—these comprise, as a matter of fact, the education even of the educated; and then the lamp is extinguished 'more truly than Heracleitus' sun, never to be lighted again' (Republic). The description which Plato gives in the Republic of the state of adult education among his contemporaries may be applied almost word for word to our own age. He does not however acquiesce in this widely-spread want of a higher education; he would rather seek to make every man something of a philosopher before he enters on the duties of active life. But in the Laws he no longer prescribes any regular course of study which is to be pursued in mature years. Nor does he remark that the education of after-life is of another kind, and must consist with the majority of the world rather in the improvement of character than in the acquirement of knowledge. It comes from the study of ourselves and other men: from moderation and experience: from reflection on circumstances: from the pursuit of high aims: from a right use of the opportunities of life. It is the preservation of what we have been, and the addition of something more. The power of abstract study or continuous thought is very rare, but such a training as this can be given by every one to himself.

The singular passage in Book vii., in which Plato describes life as a pastime, like many other passages in the Laws is imperfectly expressed. Two thoughts seem to be struggling in his mind: first, the reflection, to which he returns at the end of the passage, that men are playthings or puppets, and that God only is the serious aim of human endeavours; this suggests to him the afterthought that, although playthings, they are the playthings of the Gods, and that this is the best of them. The cynical, ironical fancy of the moment insensibly passes into a religious sentiment. In another passage he says that life is a game of which God, who is the player, shifts the pieces so as to procure the victory of good on the whole. Or once more: Tragedies are acted on the stage; but the best and noblest of them is the imitation of the noblest life, which we affirm to be the life of our whole state. Again, life is a chorus, as well as a sort of mystery, in which we have the Gods for playmates. Men imagine that war is their serious pursuit, and they make war that they may return to their amusements. But neither wars nor amusements are the true satisfaction of men, which is to be found only in the society of the Gods, in sacrificing to them and propitiating them. Like a Christian ascetic, Plato seems to suppose that life should be passed wholly in the enjoyment of divine things. And after meditating in amazement on the sadness and unreality of the world, he adds, in a sort of parenthesis, 'Be cheerful, Sirs' (Shakespeare, Tempest.)

In one of the noblest passages of Plato, he speaks of the relation of the sexes. Natural relations between members of the same family have been established of old; a 'little word' has put a stop to incestuous connexions. But unnatural unions of another kind continued to prevail at Crete and Lacedaemon, and were even justified by the example of the Gods. They, too, might be banished, if the feeling that they were unholy and abominable could sink into the minds of men. The legislator is to cry aloud, and spare not, 'Let not men fall below the level of the beasts.' Plato does not shrink, like some modern philosophers, from 'carrying on war against the mightiest lusts of mankind;' neither does he expect to extirpate them, but only to confine them to their natural use and purpose, by the enactments of law, and by the influence of public opinion. He will not feed them by an over-luxurious diet, nor allow the healthier instincts of the soul to be corrupted by music and poetry. The prohibition of excessive wealth is, as he says, a very considerable gain in the way of temperance, nor does he allow of those enthusiastic friendships between older and younger persons which in his earlier writings appear to be alluded to with a certain degree of amusement and without reproof (compare Introduction to the Symposium). Sappho and Anacreon are celebrated by him in the Charmides and the Phaedrus; but they would have been expelled from the Magnesian state.

Yet he does not suppose that the rule of absolute purity can be enforced on all mankind. Something must be conceded to the weakness of human nature. He therefore adopts a 'second legal standard of honourable and dishonourable, having a second standard of right.' He would abolish altogether 'the connexion of men with men...As to women, if any man has to do with any but those who come into his house duly married by sacred rites, and he offends publicly in the face of all mankind, we shall be right in enacting that he be deprived of civic honours and privileges.' But feeling also that it is impossible wholly to control the mightiest passions of mankind,' Plato, like other legislators, makes a compromise. The offender must not be found out; decency, if not morality, must be respected. In this he appears to agree with the practice of all civilized ages and countries. Much may be truly said by the moralist on the comparative harm of open and concealed vice. Nor do we deny that some moral evils are better turned out to the light, because, like diseases, when exposed, they are more easily cured. And secrecy introduces mystery which enormously exaggerates their power; a mere animal want is thus elevated into a sentimental ideal. It may very well be that a word spoken in season about things which are commonly concealed may have an excellent effect. But having regard to the education of youth, to the innocence of children, to the sensibilities of women, to the decencies of society, Plato and the world in general are not wrong in insisting that some of the worst vices, if they must exist, should be kept out of sight; this, though only a second-best rule, is a support to the weakness of human nature. There are some things which may be whispered in the closet, but should not be shouted on the housetop. It may be said of this, as of many other things, that it is a great part of education to know to whom they are to be spoken of, and when, and where.

BOOK IX. Punishments of offences and modes of procedure come next in order. We have a sense of disgrace in making regulations for all the details of crime in a virtuous and well-ordered state. But seeing that we are legislating for men and not for Gods, there is no uncharitableness in apprehending that some one of our citizens may have a heart, like the seed which has touched the ox's horn, so hard as to be impenetrable to the law. Let our first enactment be directed against the robbing of temples. No well-educated citizen will be guilty of such a crime, but one of their servants, or some stranger, may, and with a view to him, and at the same time with a remoter eye to the general infirmity of human nature, I will lay down the law, beginning with a prelude. To the intending robber we will say—O sir, the complaint which troubles you is not human; but some curse has fallen upon you, inherited from the crimes of your ancestors, of which you must purge yourself: go and sacrifice to the Gods, associate with the good, avoid the wicked; and if you are cured of the fatal impulse, well; but if not, acknowledge death to be better than life, and depart.

These are the accents, soft and low, in which we address the would-be criminal. And if he will not listen, then cry aloud as with the sound of a trumpet: Whosoever robs a temple, if he be a slave or foreigner shall be branded in the face and hands, and scourged, and cast naked beyond the border. And perhaps this may improve him: for the law aims either at the reformation of the criminal, or the repression of crime. No punishment is designed to inflict useless injury. But if the offender be a citizen, he must be incurable, and for him death is the only fitting penalty. His iniquity, however, shall not be visited on his children, nor shall his property be confiscated.

As to the exaction of penalties, any person who is fined for an offence shall not be liable to pay the fine, unless he have property in excess of his lot. For the lots must never go uncultivated for lack of means; the guardians of the law are to provide against this. If a fine is inflicted upon a man which he cannot pay, and for which his friends are unwilling to give security, he shall be imprisoned and otherwise dishonoured. But no criminal shall go unpunished:—whether death, or imprisonment, or stripes, or fines, or the stocks, or banishment to a remote temple, be the penalty. Capital offences shall come under the cognizance of the guardians of the law, and a college of the best of the last year's magistrates. The order of suits and similar details we shall leave to the lawgivers of the future, and only determine the mode of voting. The judges are to sit in order of seniority, and the proceedings shall begin with the speeches of the plaintiff and the defendant; and then the judges, beginning with the eldest, shall ask questions and collect evidence during three days, which, at the end of each day, shall be deposited in writing under their seals on the altar of Hestia; and when they have evidence enough, after a solemn declaration that they will decide justly, they shall vote and end the case. The votes are to be given openly in the presence of the citizens.

Next to religion, the preservation of the constitution is the first object of the law. The greatest enemy of the state is he who attempts to set up a tyrant, or breeds plots and conspiracies; not far below him in guilt is a magistrate who either knowingly, or in ignorance, fails to bring the offender to justice. Any one who is good for anything will give information against traitors. The mode of proceeding at such trials will be the same as at trials for sacrilege; the penalty, death. But neither in this case nor in any other is the son to bear the iniquity of the father, unless father, grandfather, great-grandfather, have all of them been capitally convicted, and then the family of the criminal are to be sent off to the country of their ancestor, retaining their property, with the exception of the lot and its fixtures. And ten are to be selected from the younger sons of the other citizens—one of whom is to be chosen by the oracle of Delphi to be heir of the lot.

Our third law will be a general one, concerning the procedure and the judges in cases of treason. As regards the remaining or departure of the family of the offender, the same law shall apply equally to the traitor, the sacrilegious, and the conspirator.

A thief, whether he steals much or little, must refund twice the amount, if he can do so without impairing his lot; if he cannot, he must go to prison until he either pays the plaintiff, or in case of a public theft, the city, or they agree to forgive him. 'But should all kinds of theft incur the same penalty?' You remind me of what I know—that legislation is never perfect. The men for whom laws are now made may be compared to the slave who is being doctored, according to our old image, by the unscientific doctor. For the empirical practitioner, if he chance to meet the educated physician talking to his patient, and entering into the philosophy of his disease, would burst out laughing and say, as doctors delight in doing, 'Foolish fellow, instead of curing the patient you are educating him!' 'And would he not be right?' Perhaps; and he might add, that he who discourses in our fashion preaches to the citizens instead of legislating for them. 'True.' There is, however, one advantage which we possess—that being amateurs only, we may either take the most ideal, or the most necessary and utilitarian view. 'But why offer such an alternative? As if all our legislation must be done to-day, and nothing put off until the morrow. We may surely rough-hew our materials first, and shape and place them afterwards.' That will be the natural way of proceeding. There is a further point. Of all writings either in prose or verse the writings of the legislator are the most important. For it is he who has to determine the nature of good and evil, and how they should be studied with a view to our instruction. And is it not as disgraceful for Solon and Lycurgus to lay down false precepts about the institutions of life as for Homer and Tyrtaeus? The laws of states ought to be the models of writing, and what is at variance with them should be deemed ridiculous. And we may further imagine them to express the affection and good sense of a father or mother, and not to be the fiats of a tyrant. 'Very true.'

Let us enquire more particularly about sacrilege, theft and other crimes, for which we have already legislated in part. And this leads us to ask, first of all, whether we are agreed or disagreed about the nature of the honourable and just. 'To what are you referring?' I will endeavour to explain. All are agreed that justice is honourable, whether in men or things, and no one who maintains that a very ugly men who is just, is in his mind fair, would be thought extravagant. 'Very true.' But if honour is to be attributed to justice, are just sufferings honourable, or only just actions? 'What do you mean?' Our laws supply a case in point; for we enacted that the robber of temples and the traitor should die; and this was just, but the reverse of honourable. In this way does the language of the many rend asunder the just and honourable. 'That is true.' But is our own language consistent? I have already said that the evil are involuntarily evil; and the evil are the unjust. Now the voluntary cannot be the involuntary; and if you two come to me and say, 'Then shall we legislate for our city?' Of course, I shall reply.—'Then will you distinguish what crimes are voluntary and what involuntary, and shall we impose lighter penalties on the latter, and heavier on the former? Or shall we refuse to determine what is the meaning of voluntary and involuntary, and maintain that our words have come down from heaven, and that they should be at once embodied in a law?' All states legislate under the idea that there are two classes of actions, the voluntary and the involuntary, but there is great confusion about them in the minds of men; and the law can never act unless they are distinguished. Either we must abstain from affirming that unjust actions are involuntary, or explain the meaning of this statement. Believing, then, that acts of injustice cannot be divided into voluntary and involuntary, I must endeavour to find some other mode of classifying them. Hurts are voluntary and involuntary, but all hurts are not injuries: on the other hand, a benefit when wrongly conferred may be an injury. An act which gives or takes away anything is not simply just; but the legislator who has to decide whether the case is one of hurt or injury, must consider the animus of the agent; and when there is hurt, he must as far as possible, provide a remedy and reparation: but if there is injustice, he must, when compensation has been made, further endeavour to reconcile the two parties. 'Excellent.' Where injustice, like disease, is remediable, there the remedy must be applied in word or deed, with the assistance of pleasures and pains, of bounties and penalties, or any other influence which may inspire man with the love of justice, or hatred of injustice; and this is the noblest work of law. But when the legislator perceives the evil to be incurable, he will consider that the death of the offender will be a good to himself, and in two ways a good to society: first, as he becomes an example to others; secondly, because the city will be quit of a rogue; and in such a case, but in no other, the legislator will punish with death. 'There is some truth in what you say. I wish, however, that you would distinguish more clearly the difference of injury and hurt, and the complications of voluntary and involuntary.' You will admit that anger is of a violent and destructive nature? 'Certainly.' And further, that pleasure is different from anger, and has an opposite power, working by persuasion and deceit? 'Yes.' Ignorance is the third source of crimes; this is of two kinds—simple ignorance and ignorance doubled by conceit of knowledge; the latter, when accompanied with power, is a source of terrible errors, but is excusable when only weak and childish. 'True.' We often say that one man masters, and another is mastered by pleasure and anger. 'Just so.' But no one says that one man masters, and another is mastered by ignorance. 'You are right.' All these motives actuate men and sometimes drive them in different ways. 'That is so.' Now, then, I am in a position to define the nature of just and unjust. By injustice I mean the dominion of anger and fear, pleasure and pain, envy and desire, in the soul, whether doing harm or not: by justice I mean the rule of the opinion of the best, whether in states or individuals, extending to the whole of life; although actions done in error are often thought to be involuntary injustice. No controversy need be raised about names at present; we are only desirous of fixing in our memories the heads of error. And the pain which is called fear and anger is our first head of error; the second is the class of pleasures and desires; and the third, of hopes which aim at true opinion about the best;—this latter falls into three divisions (i.e. (1) when accompanied by simple ignorance, (2) when accompanied by conceit of wisdom combined with power, or (3) with weakness), so that there are in all five. And the laws relating to them may be summed up under two heads, laws which deal with acts of open violence and with acts of deceit; to which may be added acts both violent and deceitful, and these last should be visited with the utmost rigour of the law. 'Very properly.'

Let us now return to the enactment of laws. We have treated of sacrilege, and of conspiracy, and of treason. Any of these crimes may be committed by a person not in his right mind, or in the second childhood of old age. If this is proved to be the fact before the judges, the person in question shall only have to pay for the injury, and not be punished further, unless he have on his hands the stain of blood. In this case he shall be exiled for a year, and if he return before the expiration of the year, he shall be retained in the public prison two years.

Homicides may be divided into voluntary and involuntary: and first of involuntary homicide. He who unintentionally kills another man at the games or in military exercises duly authorized by the magistrates, whether death follow immediately or after an interval, shall be acquitted, subject only to the purification required by the Delphian Oracle. Any physician whose patient dies against his will shall in like manner be acquitted. Any one who unintentionally kills the slave of another, believing that he is his own, with or without weapons, shall bear the master of the slave harmless, or pay a penalty amounting to twice the value of the slave, and to this let him add a purification greater than in the case of homicide at the games. If a man kill his own slave, a purification only is required of him. If he kill a freeman unintentionally, let him also make purification; and let him remember the ancient tradition which says that the murdered man is indignant when he sees the murderer walk about in his own accustomed haunts, and that he terrifies him with the remembrance of his crime. And therefore the homicide should keep away from his native land for a year, or, if he have slain a stranger, let him avoid the land of the stranger for a like period. If he complies with this condition, the nearest kinsman of the deceased shall take pity upon him and be reconciled to him; but if he refuses to remain in exile, or visits the temples unpurified, then let the kinsman proceed against him, and demand a double penalty. The kinsman who neglects this duty shall himself incur the curse, and any one who likes may proceed against him, and compel him to leave his country for five years. If a stranger involuntarily kill a stranger, any one may proceed against him in the same manner: and the homicide, if he be a metic, shall be banished for a year; but if he be an entire stranger, whether he have murdered metic, citizen, or stranger, he shall be banished for ever; and if he return, he shall be punished with death, and his property shall go to the next of kin of the murdered man. If he come back by sea against his will, he shall remain on the seashore, wetting his feet in the water while he waits for a vessel to sail; or if he be brought back by land, the magistrates shall send him unharmed beyond the border.

Next follows murder done from anger, which is of two kinds—either arising out of a sudden impulse, and attended with remorse; or committed with premeditation, and unattended with remorse. The cause of both is anger, and both are intermediate between voluntary and involuntary. The one which is committed from sudden impulse, though not wholly involuntary, bears the image of the involuntary, and is therefore the more excusable of the two, and should receive a gentler punishment. The act of him who nurses his wrath is more voluntary, and therefore more culpable. The degree of culpability depends on the presence or absence of intention, to which the degree of punishment should correspond. For the first kind of murder, that which is done on a momentary impulse, let two years' exile be the penalty; for the second, that which is accompanied with malice prepense, three. When the time of any one's exile has expired, the guardians shall send twelve judges to the borders of the land, who shall have authority to decide whether he may return or not. He who after returning repeats the offence, shall be exiled and return no more, and, if he return, shall be put to death, like the stranger in a similar case. He who in a fit of anger kills his own slave, shall purify himself; and he who kills another man's slave, shall pay to his master double the value. Any one may proceed against the offender if he appear in public places, not having been purified; and may bring to trial both the next of kin to the dead man and the homicide, and compel the one to exact, and the other to pay, a double penalty. If a slave kill his master, or a freeman who is not his master, in anger, the kinsmen of the murdered person may do with the murderer whatever they please, but they must not spare his life. If a father or mother kill their son or daughter in anger, let the slayer remain in exile for three years; and on the return of the exile let the parents separate, and no longer continue to cohabit, or have the same sacred rites with those whom he or she has deprived of a brother or sister. The same penalty is decreed against the husband who murders his wife, and also against the wife who murders her husband. Let them be absent three years, and on their return never again share in the same sacred rites with their children, or sit at the same table with them. Nor is a brother or sister who have lifted up their hands against a brother or sister, ever to come under the same roof or share in the same rites with those whom they have robbed of a child. If a son feels such hatred against his father or mother as to take the life of either of them, then, if the parent before death forgive him, he shall only suffer the penalty due to involuntary homicide; but if he be unforgiven, there are many laws against which he has offended; he is guilty of outrage, impiety, sacrilege all in one, and deserves to be put to death many times over. For if the law will not allow a man to kill the authors of his being even in self-defence, what other penalty than death can be inflicted upon him who in a fit of passion wilfully slays his father or mother? If a brother kill a brother in self-defence during a civil broil, or a citizen a citizen, or a slave a slave, or a stranger a stranger, let them be free from blame, as he is who slays an enemy in battle. But if a slave kill a freeman, let him be as a parricide. In all cases, however, the forgiveness of the injured party shall acquit the agents; and then they shall only be purified, and remain in exile for a year.

Enough of actions that are involuntary, or done in anger; let us proceed to voluntary and premeditated actions. The great source of voluntary crime is the desire of money, which is begotten by evil education; and this arises out of the false praise of riches, common both among Hellenes and barbarians; they think that to be the first of goods which is really the third. For the body is not for the sake of wealth, but wealth for the body, as the body is for the soul. If this were better understood, the crime of murder, of which avarice is the chief cause, would soon cease among men. Next to avarice, ambition is a source of crime, troublesome to the ambitious man himself, as well as to the chief men of the state. And next to ambition, base fear is a motive, which has led many an one to commit murder in order that he may get rid of the witnesses of his crimes. Let this be said as a prelude to all enactments about crimes of violence; and the tradition must not be forgotten, which tells that the murderer is punished in the world below, and that when he returns to this world he meets the fate which he has dealt out to others. If a man is deterred by the prelude and the fear of future punishment, he will have no need of the law; but in case he disobey, let the law be declared against him as follows:—He who of malice prepense kills one of his kindred, shall in the first place be outlawed; neither temple, harbour, nor agora shall be polluted by his presence. And if a kinsman of the deceased refuse to proceed against his slayer, he shall take the curse of pollution upon himself, and also be liable to be prosecuted by any one who will avenge the dead. The prosecutor, however, must observe the customary ceremonial before he proceeds against the offender. The details of these observances will be best determined by a conclave of prophets and interpreters and guardians of the law, and the judges of the cause itself shall be the same as in cases of sacrilege. He who is convicted shall be punished with death, and not be buried within the country of the murdered person. He who flies from the law shall undergo perpetual banishment; if he return, he may be put to death with impunity by any relative of the murdered man or by any other citizen, or bound and delivered to the magistrates. He who accuses a man of murder shall demand satisfactory bail of the accused, and if this is not forthcoming, the magistrate shall keep him in prison against the day of trial. If a man commit murder by the hand of another, he shall be tried in the same way as in the cases previously supposed, but if the offender be a citizen, his body after execution shall be buried within the land.

If a slave kill a freeman, either with his own hand or by contrivance, let him be led either to the grave or to a place whence he can see the grave of the murdered man, and there receive as many stripes at the hand of the public executioner as the person who took him pleases; and if he survive he shall be put to death. If a slave be put out of the way to prevent his informing of some crime, his death shall be punished like that of a citizen. If there are any of those horrible murders of kindred which sometimes occur even in well-regulated societies, and of which the legislator, however unwilling, cannot avoid taking cognizance, he will repeat the old myth of the divine vengeance against the perpetrators of such atrocities. The myth will say that the murderer must suffer what he has done: if he have slain his father, he must be slain by his children; if his mother, he must become a woman and perish at the hands of his offspring in another age of the world. Such a preamble may terrify him; but if, notwithstanding, in some evil hour he murders father or mother or brethren or children, the mode of proceeding shall be as follows:—Him who is convicted, the officers of the judges shall lead to a spot without the city where three ways meet, and there slay him and expose his body naked; and each of the magistrates shall cast a stone upon his head and justify the city, and he shall be thrown unburied beyond the border. But what shall we say of him who takes the life which is dearest to him, that is to say, his own; and this not from any disgrace or calamity, but from cowardice and indolence? The manner of his burial and the purification of his crime is a matter for God and the interpreters to decide and for his kinsmen to execute. Let him, at any rate, be buried alone in some uncultivated and nameless spot, and be without name or monument. If a beast kill a man, not in a public contest, let it be prosecuted for murder, and after condemnation slain and cast without the border. Also inanimate things which have caused death, except in the case of lightning and other visitations from heaven, shall be carried without the border. If the body of a dead man be found, and the murderer remain unknown, the trial shall take place all the same, and the unknown murderer shall be warned not to set foot in the temples or come within the borders of the land; if discovered, he shall die, and his body shall be cast out. A man is justified in taking the life of a burglar, of a footpad, of a violator of women or youth; and he may take the life of another with impunity in defence of father, mother, brother, wife, or other relations.

The nurture and education which are necessary to the existence of men have been considered, and the punishment of acts of violence which destroy life. There remain maiming, wounding, and the like, which admit of a similar division into voluntary and involuntary. About this class of actions the preamble shall be: Whereas men would be like wild beasts unless they obeyed the laws, the first duty of citizens is the care of the public interests, which unite and preserve states, as private interests distract them. A man may know what is for the public good, but if he have absolute power, human nature will impel him to seek pleasure instead of virtue, and so darkness will come over his soul and over the state. If he had mind, he would have no need of law; for mind is the perfection of law. But such a freeman, 'whom the truth makes free,' is hardly to be found; and therefore law and order are necessary, which are the second-best, and they regulate things as they exist in part only, but cannot take in the whole. For actions have innumerable characteristics, which must be partly determined by the law and partly left to the judge. The judge must determine the fact; and to him also the punishment must sometimes be left. What shall the law prescribe, and what shall be left to the judge? A city is unfortunate in which the tribunals are either secret and speechless, or, what is worse, noisy and public, when the people, as if they were in a theatre, clap and hoot the various speakers. Such courts a legislator would rather not have; but if he is compelled to have them, he will speak distinctly, and leave as little as possible to their discretion. But where the courts are good, and presided over by well-trained judges, the penalties to be inflicted may be in a great measure left to them; and as there are to be good courts among our colonists, we need not determine beforehand the exact proportion of the penalty and the crime. Returning, then, to our legislator, let us indite a law about wounding, which shall run as follows:—He who wounds with intent to kill, and fails in his object, shall be tried as if he had succeeded. But since God has favoured both him and his victim, instead of being put to death, he shall be allowed to go into exile and take his property with him, the damage due to the sufferer having been previously estimated by the court, which shall be the same as would have tried the case if death had ensued. If a child should intentionally wound a parent, or a servant his master, or brother or sister wound brother or sister with malice prepense, the penalty shall be death. If a husband or wife wound one another with intent to kill, the penalty which is inflicted upon them shall be perpetual exile; and if they have young children, the guardians shall take care of them and administer their property as if they were orphans. If they have no children, their kinsmen male and female shall meet, and after a consultation with the priests and guardians of the law, shall appoint an heir of the house; for the house and family belong to the state, being a 5040th portion of the whole. And the state is bound to preserve her families happy and holy; therefore, when the heir of a house has committed a capital offence, or is in exile for life, the house is to be purified, and then the kinsmen of the house and the guardians of the law are to find out a family which has a good name and in which there are many sons, and introduce one of them to be the heir and priest of the house. He shall assume the fathers and ancestors of the family, while the first son dies in dishonour and his name is blotted out.

Some actions are intermediate between the voluntary and involuntary. Those done from anger are of this class. If a man wound another in anger, let him pay double the damage, if the injury is curable; or fourfold, if curable, and at the same time dishonourable; and fourfold, if incurable; the amount is to be assessed by the judges. If the wounded person is rendered incapable of military service, the injurer, besides the other penalties, shall serve in his stead, or be liable to a suit for refusing to serve. If brother wounds brother, then their parents and kindred, of both sexes, shall meet and judge the crime. The damages shall be assessed by the parents; and if the amount fixed by them is disputed, an appeal shall be made to the male kindred; or in the last resort to the guardians of the law. Parents who wound their children are to be tried by judges of at least sixty years of age, who have children of their own; and they are to determine whether death, or some lesser punishment, is to be inflicted upon them—no relatives are to take part in the trial. If a slave in anger smite a freeman, he is to be delivered up by his master to the injured person. If the master suspect collusion between the slave and the injured person, he may bring the matter to trial: and if he fail he shall pay three times the injury; or if he obtain a conviction, the contriver of the conspiracy shall be liable to an action for kidnapping. He who wounds another unintentionally shall only pay for the actual harm done.

In all outrages and acts of violence, the elder is to be more regarded than the younger. An injury done by a younger man to an elder is abominable and hateful; but the younger man who is struck by an elder is to bear with him patiently, considering that he who is twenty years older is loco parentis, and remembering the reverence which is due to the Gods who preside over birth. Let him keep his hands, too, from the stranger; instead of taking upon himself to chastise him when he is insolent, he shall bring him before the wardens of the city, who shall examine into the case, and if they find him guilty, shall scourge him with as many blows as he has given; or if he be innocent, they shall warn and threaten his accuser. When an equal strikes an equal, whether an old man an old man, or a young man a young man, let them use only their fists and have no weapons. He who being above forty years of age commences a fight, or retaliates, shall be counted mean and base.

To this preamble, let the law be added: If a man smite another who is his elder by twenty years or more, let the bystander, in case he be older than the combatants, part them; or if he be younger than the person struck, or of the same age with him, let him defend him as he would a father or brother; and let the striker be brought to trial, and if convicted imprisoned for a year or more at the discretion of the judges. If a stranger smite one who is his elder by twenty years or more, he shall be imprisoned for two years, and a metic, in like case, shall suffer three years' imprisonment. He who is standing by and gives no assistance, shall be punished according to his class in one of four penalties—a mina, fifty, thirty, twenty drachmas. The generals and other superior officers of the army shall form the court which tries this class of offences.

Laws are made to instruct the good, and in the hope that there may be no need of them; also to control the bad, whose hardness of heart will not be hindered from crime. The uttermost penalty will fall upon those who lay violent hands upon a parent, having no fear of the Gods above, or of the punishments which will pursue them in the world below. They are too wise in their own conceits to believe in such things: wherefore the tortures which await them in another life must be anticipated in this. Let the law be as follows:—

If a man, being in his right mind, dare to smite his father and mother, or his grandfather and grandmother, let the passer-by come to the rescue; and if he be a metic or stranger who comes to the rescue, he shall have the first place at the games; or if he do not come to the rescue, he shall be a perpetual exile. Let the citizen in the like case be praised or blamed, and the slave receive freedom or a hundred stripes. The wardens of the agora, the city, or the country, as the case may be, shall see to the execution of the law. And he who is an inhabitant of the same place and is present shall come to the rescue, or he shall fall under a curse.

If a man be convicted of assaulting his parents, let him be banished for ever from the city into the country, and let him abstain from all sacred rites; and if he do not abstain, let him be punished by the wardens of the country; and if he return to the city, let him be put to death. If any freeman consort with him, let him be purified before he returns to the city. If a slave strike a freeman, whether citizen or stranger, let the bystander be obliged to seize and deliver him into the hands of the injured person, who may inflict upon him as many blows as he pleases, and shall then return him to his master. The law will be as follows:—The slave who strikes a freeman shall be bound by his master, and not set at liberty without the consent of the person whom he has injured. All these laws apply to women as well as to men.

BOOK X. The greatest wrongs arise out of youthful insolence, and the greatest of all are committed against public temples; they are in the second degree great when private rites and sepulchres are insulted; in the third degree, when committed against parents; in the fourth degree, when they are done against the authority or property of the rulers; in the fifth degree, when the rights of individuals are violated. Most of these offences have been already considered; but there remains the question of admonition and punishment of offences against the Gods. Let the admonition be in the following terms:—No man who ever intentionally did or said anything impious, had a true belief in the existence of the Gods; but either he thought that there were no Gods, or that they did not care about men, or that they were easily appeased by sacrifices and prayers. 'What shall we say or do to such persons?' My good sir, let us first hear the jests which they in their superiority will make upon us. 'What will they say?' Probably something of this kind:—'Strangers you are right in thinking that some of us do not believe in the existence of the Gods; while others assert that they do not care for us, and others that they are propitiated by prayers and offerings. But we want you to argue with us before you threaten; you should prove to us by reasonable evidence that there are Gods, and that they are too good to be bribed. Poets, priests, prophets, rhetoricians, even the best of them, speak to us of atoning for evil, and not of avoiding it. From legislators who profess to be gentle we ask for instruction, which may, at least, have the persuasive power of truth, if no other.' What have you to say? 'Well, there is no difficulty in proving the being of the Gods. The sun, and earth, and stars, moving in their courses, the recurring seasons, furnish proofs of their existence; and there is the general opinion of mankind.' I fear that the unbelievers—not that I care for their opinion—will despise us. You are not aware that their impiety proceeds, not from sensuality, but from ignorance taking the garb of wisdom. 'What do you mean?' At Athens there are tales current both in prose and verse of a kind which are not tolerated in a well-regulated state like yours. The oldest of them relate the origin of the world, and the birth and life of the Gods. These narratives have a bad influence on family relations; but as they are old we will let them pass, and consider another kind of tales, invented by the wisdom of a younger generation, who, if any one argues for the existence of the Gods and claims that the stars have a divine being, insist that these are mere earth and stones, which can have no care of human things, and that all theology is a cooking up of words. Now what course ought we to take? Shall we suppose some impious man to charge us with assuming the existence of the Gods, and make a defence? Or shall we leave the preamble and go on to the laws? 'There is no hurry, and we have often said that the shorter and worse method should not be preferred to the longer and better. The proof that there are Gods who are good, and the friends of justice, is the best preamble of all our laws.' Come, let us talk with the impious, who have been brought up from their infancy in the belief of religion, and have heard their own fathers and mothers praying for them and talking with the Gods as if they were absolutely convinced of their existence; who have seen mankind prostrate in prayer at the rising and setting of the sun and moon and at every turn of fortune, and have dared to despise and disbelieve all this. Can we keep our temper with them, when they compel us to argue on such a theme? We must; or like them we shall go mad, though with more reason. Let us select one of them and address him as follows:

O my son, you are young; time and experience will make you change many of your opinions. Do not be hasty in forming a conclusion about the divine nature; and let me mention to you a fact which I know. You and your friends are not the first or the only persons who have had these notions about the Gods. There are always a considerable number who are infected by them: I have known many myself, and can assure you that no one who was an unbeliever in his youth ever persisted till he was old in denying the existence of the Gods. The two other opinions, first, that the Gods exist and have no care of men, secondly, that they care for men, but may be propitiated by sacrifices and prayers, may indeed last through life in a few instances, but even this is not common. I would beg of you to be patient, and learn the truth of the legislator and others; in the mean time abstain from impiety. 'So far, our discourse has gone well.'

I will now speak of a strange doctrine, which is regarded by many as the crown of philosophy. They affirm that all things come into being either by art or nature or chance, and that the greater things are done by nature and chance, and the lesser things by art, which receiving from nature the greater creations, moulds and fashions all those lesser works which are termed works of art. Their meaning is that fire, water, earth, and air all exist by nature and chance, and not by art; and that out of these, according to certain chance affinities of opposites, the sun, the moon, the stars, and the earth have been framed, not by any action of mind, but by nature and chance only. Thus, in their opinion, the heaven and earth were created, as well as the animals and plants. Art came later, and is of mortal birth; by her power were invented certain images and very partial imitations of the truth, of which kind are the creations of musicians and painters: but they say that there are other arts which combine with nature, and have a deeper truth, such as medicine, husbandry, gymnastic. Also the greater part of politics they imagine to co-operate with nature, but in a less degree, having more of art, while legislation is declared by them to be wholly a work of art. 'How do you mean?' In the first place, they say that the Gods exist neither by nature nor by art, but by the laws of states, which are different in different countries; and that virtue is one thing by nature and another by convention; and that justice is altogether conventional, made by law, and having authority for the moment only. This is repeated to young men by sages and poets, and leads to impiety, and the pretended life according to nature and in disobedience to law; for nobody believes the Gods to be such as the law affirms. 'How true! and oh! how injurious to states and to families!' But then, what should the lawgiver do? Should he stand up in the state and threaten mankind with the severest penalties if they persist in their unbelief, while he makes no attempt to win them by persuasion? 'Nay, Stranger, the legislator ought never to weary of trying to persuade the world that there are Gods; and he should declare that law and art exist by nature.' Yes, Cleinias; but these are difficult and tedious questions. 'And shall our patience, which was not exhausted in the enquiry about music or drink, fail now that we are discoursing about the Gods? There may be a difficulty in framing laws, but when written down they remain, and time and diligence will make them clear; if they are useful there would be neither reason nor religion in rejecting them on account of their length.' Most true. And the general spread of unbelief shows that the legislator should do something in vindication of the laws, when they are being undermined by bad men. 'He should.' You agree with me, Cleinias, that the heresy consists in supposing earth, air, fire, and water to be the first of all things. These the heretics call nature, conceiving them to be prior to the soul. 'I agree.' You would further agree that natural philosophy is the source of this impiety—the study appears to be pursued in a wrong way. 'In what way do you mean?' The error consists in transposing first and second causes. They do not see that the soul is before the body, and before all other things, and the author and ruler of them all. And if the soul is prior to the body, then the things of the soul are prior to the things of the body. In other words, opinion, attention, mind, art, law, are prior to sensible qualities; and the first and greater works of creation are the results of art and mind, whereas the works of nature, as they are improperly termed, are secondary and subsequent. 'Why do you say "improperly"?' Because when they speak of nature they seem to mean the first creative power. But if the soul is first, and not fire and air, then the soul above all things may be said to exist by nature. And this can only be on the supposition that the soul is prior to the body. Shall we try to prove that it is so? 'By all means.' I fear that the greenness of our argument will ludicrously contrast with the ripeness of our ages. But as we must go into the water, and the stream is strong, I will first attempt to cross by myself, and if I arrive at the bank, you shall follow. Remembering that you are unaccustomed to such discussions, I will ask and answer the questions myself, while you listen in safety. But first I must pray the Gods to assist at the demonstration of their own existence—if ever we are to call upon them, now is the time. Let me hold fast to the rope, and enter into the depths: Shall I put the question to myself in this form?—Are all things at rest, and is nothing in motion? or are some things in motion, and some things at rest? 'The latter.' And do they move and rest, some in one place, some in more? 'Yes.' There may be (1) motion in the same place, as in revolution on an axis, which is imparted swiftly to the larger and slowly to the lesser circle; and there may be motion in different places, having sometimes (2) one centre of motion and sometimes (3) more. (4) When bodies in motion come against other bodies which are at rest, they are divided by them, and (5) when they are caught between other bodies coming from opposite directions they unite with them; and (6) they grow by union and (7) waste by dissolution while their constitution remains the same, but are (8) destroyed when their constitution fails. There is a growth from one dimension to two, and from a second to a third, which then becomes perceptible to sense; this process is called generation, and the opposite, destruction. We have now enumerated all possible motions with the exception of two. 'What are they?' Just the two with which our enquiry is concerned; for our enquiry relates to the soul. There is one kind of motion which is only able to move other things; there is another which can move itself as well, working in composition and decomposition, by increase and diminution, by generation and destruction. 'Granted.' (9) That which moves and is moved by another is the ninth kind of motion; (10) that which is self-moved and moves others is the tenth. And this tenth kind of motion is the mightiest, and is really the first, and is followed by that which was improperly called the ninth. 'How do you mean?' Must not that which is moved by others finally depend upon that which is moved by itself? Nothing can be affected by any transition prior to self-motion. Then the first and eldest principle of motion, whether in things at rest or not at rest, will be the principle of self-motion; and that which is moved by others and can move others will be the second. 'True.' Let me ask another question:

What is the name which is given to self-motion when manifested in any material substance? 'Life.' And soul too is life? 'Very good.' And are there not three kinds of knowledge—a knowledge (1) of the essence, (2) of the definition, (3) of the name? And sometimes the name leads us to ask the definition, sometimes the definition to ask the name. For example, number can be divided into equal parts, and when thus divided is termed even, and the definition of even and the word 'even' refer to the same thing. 'Very true.' And what is the definition of the thing which is named 'soul'? Must we not reply, 'The self-moved'? And have we not proved that the self-moved is the source of motion in other things? 'Yes.' And the motion which is not self-moved will be inferior to this? 'True.' And if so, we shall be right in saying that the soul is prior and superior to the body, and the body by nature subject and inferior to the soul? 'Quite right.' And we agreed that if the soul was prior to the body, the things of the soul were prior to the things of the body? 'Certainly.' And therefore desires, and manners, and thoughts, and true opinions, and recollections, are prior to the length and breadth and force of bodies. 'To be sure.' In the next place, we acknowledge that the soul is the cause of good and evil, just and unjust, if we suppose her to be the cause of all things? 'Certainly.' And the soul which orders all things must also order the heavens? 'Of course.' One soul or more? More; for less than two are inconceivable, one good, the other evil. 'Most true.' The soul directs all things by her movements, which we call will, consideration, attention, deliberation, opinion true and false, joy, sorrow, courage, fear, hatred, love, and similar affections. These are the primary movements, and they receive the secondary movements of bodies, and guide all things to increase and diminution, separation and union, and to all the qualities which accompany them—cold, hot, heavy, light, hard, soft, white, black, sweet, bitter; these and other such qualities the soul, herself a goddess, uses, when truly receiving the divine mind she leads all things rightly to their happiness; but under the impulse of folly she works out an opposite result. For the controller of heaven and earth and the circle of the world is either the wise and good soul, or the foolish and vicious soul, working in them. 'What do you mean?' If we say that the whole course and motion of heaven and earth is in accordance with the workings and reasonings of mind, clearly the best soul must have the care of the heaven, and guide it along that better way. 'True.' But if the heavens move wildly and disorderly, then they must be under the guidance of the evil soul. 'True again.' What is the nature of the movement of the soul? We must not suppose that we can see and know the soul with our bodily eyes, any more than we can fix them on the midday sun; it will be safer to look at an image only. 'How do you mean?' Let us find among the ten kinds of motion an image of the motion of the mind. You remember, as we said, that all things are divided into two classes; and some of them were moved and some at rest. 'Yes.' And of those which were moved, some were moved in the same place, others in more places than one. 'Just so.' The motion which was in one place was circular, like the motion of a spherical body; and such a motion in the same place, and in the same relations, is an excellent image of the motion of mind. 'Very true.' The motion of the other sort, which has no fixed place or manner or relation or order or proportion, is akin to folly and nonsense. 'Very true.' After what has been said, it is clear that, since the soul carries round all things, some soul which is either very good or the opposite carries round the circumference of heaven. But that soul can be no other than the best. Again, the soul carries round the sun, moon, and stars, and if the sun has a soul, then either the soul of the sun is within and moves the sun as the human soul moves the body; or, secondly, the sun is contained in some external air or fire, which the soul provides and through which she operates; or, thirdly, the course of the sun is guided by the soul acting in a wonderful manner without a body. 'Yes, in one of those ways the soul must guide all things.' And this soul of the sun, which is better than the sun, whether driving him in a chariot or employing any other agency, is by every man called a God? 'Yes, by every man who has any sense.' And of the seasons, stars, moon, and year, in like manner, it may be affirmed that the soul or souls from which they derive their excellence are divine; and without insisting on the manner of their working, no one can deny that all things are full of Gods. 'No one.' And now let us offer an alternative to him who denies that there are Gods. Either he must show that the soul is not the origin of all things, or he must live for the future in the belief that there are Gods.

Next, as to the man who believes in the Gods, but refuses to acknowledge that they take care of human things—let him too have a word of admonition. 'Best of men,' we will say to him, 'some affinity to the Gods leads you to honour them and to believe in them. But you have heard the happiness of wicked men sung by poets and admired by the world, and this has drawn you away from your natural piety. Or you have seen the wicked growing old in prosperity, and leaving great offices to their children; or you have watched the tyrant succeeding in his career of crime; and considering all these things you have been led to believe in an irrational way that the Gods take no care of human affairs. That your error may not increase, I will endeavour to purify your soul.' Do you, Megillus and Cleinias, make answer for the youth, and when we come to a difficulty, I will carry you over the water as I did before. 'Very good.' He will easily be convinced that the Gods care for the small as well as the great; for he heard what was said of their goodness and of their having all things under their care. 'He certainly heard.' Then now let us enquire what is meant by the virtue of the Gods. To possess mind belongs to virtue, and the contrary to vice. 'That is what we say.' And is not courage a part of virtue, and cowardice of vice? 'Certainly.' And to the Gods we ascribe virtues; but idleness and indolence are not virtues. 'Of course not.' And is God to be conceived of as a careless, indolent fellow, such as the poet would compare to a stingless drone? 'Impossible.' Can we be right in praising any one who cares for great matters and leaves the small to take care of themselves? Whether God or man, he who does so, must either think the neglect of such matters to be of no consequence, or he is indolent and careless. For surely neither of them can be charged with neglect if they fail to attend to something which is beyond their power? 'Certainly not.'

And now we will examine the two classes of offenders who admit that there are Gods, but say,—the one that they may be appeased, the other that they take no care of small matters: do they not acknowledge that the Gods are omnipotent and omniscient, and also good and perfect? 'Certainly.' Then they cannot be indolent, for indolence is the offspring of idleness, and idleness of cowardice, and there is no cowardice in God. 'True.' If the Gods neglect small matters, they must either know or not know that such things are not to be regarded. But of course they know that they should be regarded, and knowing, they cannot be supposed to neglect their duty, overcome by the seductions of pleasure or pain. 'Impossible.' And do not all human things share in soul, and is not man the most religious of animals and the possession of the Gods? And the Gods, who are the best of owners, will surely take care of their property, small or great. Consider further, that the greater the power of perception, the less the power of action. For it is harder to see and hear the small than the great, but easier to control them. Suppose a physician who had to cure a patient—would he ever succeed if he attended to the great and neglected the little? 'Impossible.' Is not life made up of littles?—the pilot, general, householder, statesman, all attend to small matters; and the builder will tell you that large stones do not lie well without small ones. And God is not inferior to mortal craftsmen, who in proportion to their skill are careful in the details of their work; we must not imagine the best and wisest to be a lazy good-for-nothing, who wearies of his work and hurries over small and easy matters. 'Never, never!' He who charges the Gods with neglect has been forced to admit his error; but I should like further to persuade him that the author of all has made every part for the sake of the whole, and that the smallest part has an appointed state of action or passion, and that the least action or passion of any part has a presiding minister. You, we say to him, are a minute fraction of this universe, created with a view to the whole; the world is not made for you, but you for the world; for the good artist considers the whole first, and afterwards the parts. And you are annoyed at not seeing how you and the universe are all working together for the best, so far as the laws of the common creation admit. The soul undergoes many changes from her contact with bodies; and all that the player does is to put the pieces into their right places. 'What do you mean?' I mean that God acts in the way which is simplest and easiest. Had each thing been formed without any regard to the rest, the transposition of the Cosmos would have been endless; but now there is not much trouble in the government of the world. For when the king saw the actions of the living souls and bodies, and the virtue and vice which were in them, and the indestructibility of the soul and body (although they were not eternal), he contrived so to arrange them that virtue might conquer and vice be overcome as far as possible; giving them a seat and room adapted to them, but leaving the direction of their separate actions to men's own wills, which make our characters to be what they are. 'That is very probable.' All things which have a soul possess in themselves the principle of change, and in changing move according to fate and law; natures which have undergone lesser changes move on the surface; but those which have changed utterly for the worse, sink into Hades and the infernal world. And in all great changes for good and evil which are produced either by the will of the soul or the influence of others, there is a change of place. The good soul, which has intercourse with the divine nature, passes into a holier and better place; and the evil soul, as she grows worse, changes her place for the worse. This,—as we declare to the youth who fancies that he is neglected of the Gods,—is the law of divine justice—the worse to the worse, the better to the better, like to like, in life and in death. And from this law no man will ever boast that he has escaped. Even if you say—'I am small, and will creep into the earth,' or 'I am high, and will mount to heaven'—you are not so small or so high that you shall not pay the fitting penalty, either here or in the world below. This is also the explanation of the seeming prosperity of the wicked, in whose actions as in a mirror you imagined that you saw the neglect of the Gods, not considering that they make all things contribute to the whole. And how then could you form any idea of true happiness?—If Cleinias and Megillus and I have succeeded in persuading you that you know not what you say about the Gods, God will help you; but if there is still any deficiency of proof, hear our answer to the third opponent.

Enough has been said to prove that the Gods exist and care for us; that they can be propitiated, or that they receive gifts, is not to be allowed or admitted for an instant. 'Let us proceed with the argument.' Tell me, by the Gods, I say, how the Gods are to be propitiated by us? Are they not rulers, who may be compared to charioteers, pilots, perhaps generals, or physicians providing against the assaults of disease, husbandmen observing the perils of the seasons, shepherds watching their flocks? To whom shall we compare them? We acknowledged that the world is full both of good and evil, but having more of evil than of good. There is an immortal conflict going on, in which Gods and demigods are our allies, and we their property; for injustice and folly and wickedness make war in our souls upon justice and temperance and wisdom. There is little virtue to be found on earth; and evil natures fawn upon the Gods, like wild beasts upon their keepers, and believe that they can win them over by flattery and prayers. And this sin, which is termed dishonesty, is to the soul what disease is to the body, what pestilence is to the seasons, what injustice is to states. 'Quite so.' And they who maintain that the Gods can be appeased must say that they forgive the sins of men, if they are allowed to share in their spoils; as you might suppose wolves to mollify the dogs by throwing them a portion of the prey. 'That is the argument.' But let us apply our images to the Gods—are they the pilots who are won by gifts to wreck their own ships—or the charioteers who are bribed to lose the race—or the generals, or doctors, or husbandmen, who are perverted from their duty—or the dogs who are silenced by wolves? 'God forbid.' Are they not rather our best guardians; and shall we suppose them to fall short even of a moderate degree of human or even canine virtue, which will not betray justice for reward? 'Impossible.' He, then, who maintains such a doctrine, is the most blasphemous of mankind.

And now our three points are proven; and we are agreed (1) that there are Gods, (2) that they care for men, (3) that they cannot be bribed to do injustice. I have spoken warmly, from a fear lest this impiety of theirs should lead to a perversion of life. And our warmth will not have been in vain, if we have succeeded in persuading these men to abominate themselves, and to change their ways. 'So let us hope.' Then now that the preamble is completed, we will make a proclamation commanding the impious to renounce their evil ways; and in case they refuse, the law shall be added:—If a man is guilty of impiety in word or deed, let the bystander inform the magistrates, and let the magistrates bring the offender before the court; and if any of the magistrates refuses to act, he likewise shall be tried for impiety. Any one who is found guilty of such an offence shall be fined at the discretion of the court, and shall also be punished by a term of imprisonment. There shall be three prisons—one for common offences against life and property; another, near by the spot where the Nocturnal Council will assemble, which is to be called the 'House of Reformation'; the third, to be situated in some desolate region in the centre of the country, shall be called by a name indicating retribution. There are three causes of impiety, and from each of them spring impieties of two kinds, six in all. First, there is the impiety of those who deny the existence of the Gods; these may be honest men, haters of evil, who are only dangerous because they talk loosely about the Gods and make others like themselves; but there is also a more vicious class, who are full of craft and licentiousness. To this latter belong diviners, jugglers, despots, demagogues, generals, hierophants of private mysteries, and sophists. The first class shall be only imprisoned and admonished. The second class should be put to death, if they could be, many times over. The two other sorts of impiety, first of those who deny the care of the Gods, and secondly, of those who affirm that they may be propitiated, have similar subdivisions, varying in degree of guilt. Those who have learnt to blaspheme from mere ignorance shall be imprisoned in the House of Reformation for five years at least, and not allowed to see any one but members of the Nocturnal Council, who shall converse with them touching their souls health. If any of the prisoners come to their right mind, at the end of five years let them be restored to sane company; but he who again offends shall die. As to that class of monstrous natures who not only believe that the Gods are negligent, or may be propitiated, but pretend to practise on the souls of quick and dead, and promise to charm the Gods, and to effect the ruin of houses and states—he, I say, who is guilty of these things, shall be bound in the central prison, and shall have no intercourse with any freeman, receiving only his daily rations of food from the public slaves; and when he dies, let him be cast beyond the border; and if any freeman assist to bury him, he shall be liable to a suit for impiety. But the sins of the father shall not be visited upon his children, who, like other orphans, shall be educated by the state. Further, let there be a general law which will have a tendency to repress impiety. No man shall have religious services in his house, but he shall go with his friends to pray and sacrifice in the temples. The reason of this is, that religious institutions can only be framed by a great intelligence. But women and weak men are always consecrating the event of the moment; they are under the influence of dreams and apparitions, and they build altars and temples in every village and in any place where they have had a vision. The law is designed to prevent this, and also to deter men from attempting to propitiate the Gods by secret sacrifices, which only multiply their sins. Therefore let the law run:—No one shall have private religious rites; and if a man or woman who has not been previously noted for any impiety offend in this way, let them be admonished to remove their rites to a public temple; but if the offender be one of the obstinate sort, he shall be brought to trial before the guardians, and if he be found guilty, let him die.

BOOK XI. As to dealings between man and man, the principle of them is simple—Thou shalt not take what is not thine; and shalt do to others as thou wouldst that they should do to thee. First, of treasure trove:—May I never desire to find, or lift, if I find, or be induced by the counsel of diviners to lift, a treasure which one who was not my ancestor has laid down; for I shall not gain so much in money as I shall lose in virtue. The saying, 'Move not the immovable,' may be repeated in a new sense; and there is a common belief which asserts that such deeds prevent a man from having a family. To him who is careless of such consequences, and, despising the word of the wise, takes up a treasure which is not his—what will be done by the hand of the Gods, God only knows,—but I would have the first person who sees the offender, inform the wardens of the city or the country; and they shall send to Delphi for a decision, and whatever the oracle orders, they shall carry out. If the informer be a freeman, he shall be honoured, and if a slave, set free; but he who does not inform, if he be a freeman, shall be dishonoured, and if a slave, shall be put to death. If a man leave anywhere anything great or small, intentionally or unintentionally, let him who may find the property deem the deposit sacred to the Goddess of ways. And he who appropriates the same, if he be a slave, shall be beaten with many stripes; if a freeman, he shall pay tenfold, and be held to have done a dishonourable action. If a person says that another has something of his, and the other allows that he has the property in dispute, but maintains it to be his own, let the ownership be proved out of the registers of property. If the property is registered as belonging to some one who is absent, possession shall be given to him who offers sufficient security on behalf of the absentee; or if the property is not registered, let it remain with the three eldest magistrates, and if it should be an animal, the defeated party must pay the cost of its keep. A man may arrest his own slave, and he may also imprison for safe-keeping the runaway slave of a friend. Any one interfering with him must produce three sureties; otherwise, he will be liable to an action for violence, and if he be cast, must pay a double amount of damages to him from whom he has taken the slave. A freedman who does not pay due respect to his patron, may also be seized. Due respect consists in going three times a month to the house of his patron, and offering to perform any lawful service for him; he must also marry as his master pleases; and if his property be greater than his master's, he must hand over to him the excess. A freedman may not remain in the state, except with the consent of the magistrates and of his master, for more than twenty years; and whenever his census exceeds that of the third class, he must in any case leave the country within thirty days, taking his property with him. If he break this regulation, the penalty shall be death, and his property shall be confiscated. Suits about these matters are to be decided in the courts of the tribes, unless the parties have settled the matter before a court of neighbours or before arbiters. If anybody claim a beast, or anything else, let the possessor refer to the seller or giver of the property within thirty days, if the latter reside in the city, or, if the goods have been received from a stranger, within five months, of which the middle month shall include the summer solstice. All purchases and exchanges are to be made in the agora, and paid for on the spot; the law will not allow credit to be given. No law shall protect the money subscribed for clubs. He who sells anything of greater value than fifty drachmas shall abide in the city for ten days, and let his whereabouts be known to the buyer, in case of any reclamation. When a slave is sold who is subject to epilepsy, stone, or any other invisible disorder, the buyer, if he be a physician or trainer, or if he be warned, shall have no redress; but in other cases within six months, or within twelve months in epileptic disorders, he may bring the matter before a jury of physicians to be agreed upon by both parties; and the seller who loses the suit, if he be an expert, shall pay twice the price; or if he be a private person, the bargain shall be rescinded, and he shall simply refund. If a person knowingly sells a homicide to another, who is informed of his character, there is no redress. But if the judges—who are to be the five youngest guardians of the law—decide that the purchaser was not aware, then the seller is to pay threefold, and to purify the house of the buyer.

He who exchanges money for money, or beast for beast, must warrant either of them to be sound and good. As in the case of other laws, let us have a preamble, relating to all this class of crime. Adulteration is a kind of falsehood about which the many commonly say that at proper times the practice may often be right, but they do not define at what times. But the legislator will tell them, that no man should invoke the Gods when he is practising deceit or fraud, in word or deed. For he is the enemy of heaven, first, who swears falsely, not thinking of the Gods by whom he swears, and secondly, he who lies to his superiors. (Now the superiors are the betters of inferiors,—the elder of the younger, parents of children, men of women, and rulers of subjects.) The trader who cheats in the agora is a liar and is perjured—he respects neither the name of God nor the regulations of the magistrates. If after hearing this he will still be dishonest, let him listen to the law:—The seller shall not have two prices on the same day, neither must he puff his goods, nor offer to swear about them. If he break the law, any citizen not less than thirty years of age may smite him. If he sell adulterated goods, the slave or metic who informs against him shall have the goods; the citizen who brings such a charge, if he prove it, shall offer up the goods in question to the Gods of the agora; or if he fail to prove it, shall be dishonoured. He who is detected in selling adulterated goods shall be deprived of them, and shall receive a stripe for every drachma of their value. The wardens of the agora and the guardians of the law shall take experienced persons into counsel, and draw up regulations for the agora. These shall be inscribed on a column in front of the court of the wardens of the agora.—As to the wardens of the city, enough has been said already. But if any omissions in the law are afterwards discovered, the wardens and the guardians shall supply them, and have them inscribed after the original regulations on a column before the court of the wardens of the city.

Next in order follows the subject of retail trades, which in their natural use are the reverse of mischievous; for every man is a benefactor who reduces what is unequal to symmetry and proportion. Money is the instrument by which this is accomplished, and the shop-keeper, the merchant, and hotel-keeper do but supply the wants and equalize the possessions of mankind. Why, then, does any dishonour attach to a beneficent occupation? Let us consider the nature of the accusation first, and then see whether it can be removed. 'What is your drift?' Dear Cleinias, there are few men who are so gifted by nature, and improved by education, as to be able to control the desire of making money; or who are sober in their wishes and prefer moderation to accumulation. The great majority think that they can never have enough, and the consequence is that retail trade has become a reproach. Whereas, however ludicrous the idea may seem, if noble men and noble women could be induced to open a shop, and to trade upon incorruptible principles, then the aspect of things would change, and retail traders would be regarded as nursing fathers and mothers. In our own day the trader goes and settles in distant places, and receives the weary traveller hospitably at first, but in the end treats him as an enemy and a captive, whom he only liberates for an enormous ransom. This is what has brought retail trade into disrepute, and against this the legislator ought to provide. Men have said of old, that to fight against two opponents is hard; and the two opponents of whom I am thinking are wealth and poverty—the one corrupting men by luxury; the other, through misery, depriving them of the sense of shame. What remedies can a city find for this disease? First, to have as few retail traders as possible; secondly, to give retail trade over to a class whose corruption will not injure the state; and thirdly, to restrain the insolence and meanness of the retailers.

Let us make the following laws:—(1) In the city of the Magnetes none of the 5040 citizens shall be a retailer or merchant, or do any service to any private persons who do not equally serve him, except to his father and mother and their fathers and mothers, and generally to his elders who are freemen, and whom he serves as a freeman. He who follows an illiberal pursuit may be cited for dishonouring his family, and kept in bonds for a year; and if he offend again, he shall be bound for two years; and for every offence his punishment shall be doubled: (2) Every retailer shall be a metic or a foreigner: (3) The guardians of the law shall have a special care of this part of the community, whose calling exposes them to peculiar temptations. They shall consult with persons of experience, and find out what prices will yield the traders a moderate profit, and fix them.

When a man does not fulfil his contract, he being under no legal or other impediment, the case shall be brought before the court of the tribes, if not previously settled by arbitration. The class of artisans is consecrated to Hephaestus and Athene; the makers of weapons to Ares and Athene: all of whom, remembering that the Gods are their ancestors, should be ashamed to deceive in the practice of their craft. If any man is lazy in the fulfilment of his work, and fancies, foolish fellow, that his patron God will not deal hardly with him, he will be punished by the God; and let the law follow:—He who fails in his undertaking shall pay the value, and do the work gratis in a specified time. The contractor, like the seller, is enjoined by law to charge the simple value of his work; in a free city, art should be a true thing, and the artist must not practise on the ignorance of others. On the other hand, he who has ordered any work and does not pay the workman according to agreement, dishonours Zeus and Athene, and breaks the bonds of society. And if he does not pay at the time agreed, let him pay double; and although interest is forbidden in other cases, let the workman receive after the expiration of a year interest at the rate of an obol a month for every drachma (equal to 200 per cent. per ann.). And we may observe by the way, in speaking of craftsmen, that if our military craft do their work well, the state will praise those who honour them, and blame those who do not honour them. Not that the first place of honour is to be assigned to the warrior; a higher still is reserved for those who obey the laws.

Most of the dealings between man and man are now settled, with the exception of such as relate to orphans and guardianships. These lead us to speak of the intentions of the dying, about which we must make regulations. I say 'must'; for mankind cannot be allowed to dispose of their property as they please, in ways at variance with one another and with law and custom. But a dying person is a strange being, and is not easily managed; he wants to be master of all he has, and is apt to use angry words. He will say,—'May I not do what I will with my own, and give much to my friends, and little to my enemies?' 'There is reason in that.' O Cleinias, in my judgment the older lawgivers were too soft-hearted, and wanting in insight into human affairs. They were too ready to listen to the outcry of a dying man, and hence they were induced to give him an absolute power of bequest. But I would say to him:—O creature of a day, you know neither what is yours nor yourself: for you and your property are not your own, but belong to your whole family, past and to come, and property and family alike belong to the State. And therefore I must take out of your hands the charge of what you leave behind you, with a view to the interests of all. And I hope that you will not quarrel with us, now that you are going the way of all mankind; we will do our best for you and yours when you are no longer here. Let this be our address to the living and dying, and let the law be as follows:—The father who has sons shall appoint one of them to be the heir of the lot; and if he has given any other son to be adopted by another, the adoption shall also be recorded; and if he has still a son who has no lot, and has a chance of going to a colony, he may give him what he has more than the lot; or if he has more than one son unprovided for, he may divide the money between them. A son who has a house of his own, and a daughter who is betrothed, are not to share in the bequest of money; and the son or daughter who, having inherited one lot, acquires another, is to bequeath the new inheritance to the next of kin. If a man have only daughters, he may adopt the husband of any one of them; or if he have lost a son, let him make mention of the circumstance in his will and adopt another. If he have no children, he may give away a tenth of his acquired property to whomsoever he likes; but he must adopt an heir to inherit the lot, and may leave the remainder to him. Also he may appoint guardians for his children; or if he die without appointing them or without making a will, the nearest kinsmen,—two on the father's and two on the mother's side,—and one friend of the departed, shall be appointed guardians. The fifteen eldest guardians of the law are to have special charge of all orphans, the whole number of fifteen being divided into bodies of three, who will succeed one another according to seniority every year for five years. If a man dying intestate leave daughters, he must pardon the law which marries them for looking, first to kinship, and secondly to the preservation of the lot. The legislator cannot regard the character of the heir, which to the father is the first consideration. The law will therefore run as follows:—If the intestate leave daughters, husbands are to be found for them among their kindred according to the following table of affinity: first, their father's brothers; secondly, the sons of their father's brothers; thirdly, of their father's sisters; fourthly, their great-uncles; fifthly, the sons of a great-uncle; sixthly, the sons of a great-aunt. The kindred in such cases shall always be reckoned in this way; the relationship shall proceed upwards through brothers and sisters and brothers' and sisters' children, and first the male line must be taken and then the female. If there is a dispute in regard to fitness of age for marriage, this the judge shall decide, after having made an inspection of the youth naked, and of the maiden naked down to the waist. If the maiden has no relations within the degree of third cousin, she may choose whom she likes, with the consent of her guardians; or she may even select some one who has gone to a colony, and he, if he be a kinsman, will take the lot by law; if not, he must have her guardians' consent, as well as hers. When a man dies without children and without a will, let a young man and a young woman go forth from the family and take up their abode in the desolate house. The woman shall be selected from the kindred in the following order of succession:—first, a sister of the deceased; second, a brother's daughter; third, a sister's daughter; fourth, a father's sister; fifth, a daughter of a father's brother; sixth, a daughter of a father's sister. For the man the same order shall be observed as in the preceding case. The legislator foresees that laws of this kind will sometimes press heavily, and that his intention cannot always be fulfilled; as for example, when there are mental and bodily defects in the persons who are enjoined to marry. But he must be excused for not being always able to reconcile the general principles of public interest with the particular circumstances of individuals; and he is willing to allow, in like manner, that the individual cannot always do what the lawgiver wishes. And then arbiters must be chosen, who will determine equitably the cases which may arise under the law: e.g. a rich cousin may sometimes desire a grander match, or the requirements of the law can only be fulfilled by marrying a madwoman. To meet such cases let the following law be enacted:—If any one comes forward and says that the lawgiver, had he been alive, would not have required the carrying out of the law in a particular case, let him go to the fifteen eldest guardians of the law who have the care of orphans; but if he thinks that too much power is thus given to them, he may bring the case before the court of select judges.

Thus will orphans have a second birth. In order to make their sad condition as light as possible, the guardians of the law shall be their parents, and shall be admonished to take care of them. And what admonition can be more appropriate than the assurance which we formerly gave, that the souls of the dead watch over mortal affairs? About this there are many ancient traditions, which may be taken on trust from the legislator. Let men fear, in the first place, the Gods above; secondly, the souls of the departed, who naturally care for their own descendants; thirdly, the aged living, who are quick to hear of any neglect of family duties, especially in the case of orphans. For they are the holiest and most sacred of all deposits, and the peculiar care of guardians and magistrates; and those who try to bring them up well will contribute to their own good and to that of their families. He who listens to the preamble of the law will never know the severity of the legislator; but he who disobeys, and injures the orphan, will pay twice the penalty he would have paid if the parents had been alive. More laws might have been made about orphans, did we not suppose that the guardians have children and property of their own which are protected by the laws; and the duty of the guardian in our state is the same as that of a father, though his honour or disgrace is greater. A legal admonition and threat may, however, be of service: the guardian of the orphan and the guardian of the law who is over him, shall love the orphan as their own children, and take more care of his or her property than of their own. If the guardian of the child neglect his duty, the guardian of the law shall fine him; and the guardian may also have the magistrate tried for neglect in the court of select judges, and he shall pay, if convicted, a double penalty. Further, the guardian of the orphan who is careless or dishonest may be fined on the information of any of the citizens in a fourfold penalty, half to go to the orphan and half to the prosecutor of the suit. When the orphan is of age, if he thinks that he has been ill-used, his guardian may be brought to trial by him within five years, and the penalty shall be fixed by the court. Or if the magistrate has neglected the orphan, he shall pay damages to him; but if he have defrauded him, he shall make compensation and also be deposed from his office of guardian of the law.

If irremediable differences arise between fathers and sons, the father may want to renounce his son, or the son may indict his father for imbecility: such violent separations only take place when the family are 'a bad lot'; if only one of the two parties is bad, the differences do not grow to so great a height. But here arises a difficulty. Although in any other state a son who is disinherited does not cease to be a citizen, in ours he does; for the number of citizens cannot exceed 5040. And therefore he who is to suffer such a penalty ought to be abjured, not only by his father, but by the whole family. The law, then, should run as follows:—If any man's evil fortune or temper incline him to disinherit his son, let him not do so lightly or on the instant; but let him have a council of his own relations and of the maternal relations of his son, and set forth to them the propriety of disinheriting him, and allow his son to answer. And if more than half of the kindred male and female, being of full age, condemn the son, let him be disinherited. If any other citizen desires to adopt him, he may, for young men's characters often change in the course of life. But if, after ten years, he remains unadopted, let him be sent to a colony. If disease, or old age, or evil disposition cause a man to go out of his mind, and he is ruining his house and property, and his son doubts about indicting him for insanity, let him lay the case before the eldest guardians of the law, and consult with them. And if they advise him to proceed, and the father is decided to be imbecile, he shall have no more control over his property, but shall live henceforward like a child in the house.

If a man and his wife are of incompatible tempers, ten guardians of the law and ten of the matrons who regulate marriage shall take their case in hand, and reconcile them, if possible. If, however, their swelling souls cannot be pacified, the wife may try and find a new husband, and the husband a new wife; probably they are not very gentle creatures, and should therefore be joined to milder natures. The younger of those who are separated should also select their partners with a view to the procreation of children; while the older should seek a companion for their declining years. If a woman dies, leaving children male or female, the law will advise, but not compel, the widower to abstain from a second marriage; if she leave no children, he shall be compelled to marry. Also a widow, if she is not old enough to live honestly without marriage, shall marry again; and in case she have no children, she should marry for the sake of them. There is sometimes an uncertainty which parent the offspring is to follow: in unions of a female slave with a male slave, or with a freedman or free man, or of a free woman with a male slave, the offspring is to belong to the master; but if the master or mistress be themselves the parent of the child, the slave and the child are to be sent away to another land.

Concerning duty to parents, let the preamble be as follows:—We honour the Gods in their lifeless images, and believe that we thus propitiate them. But he who has an aged father or mother has a living image, which if he cherish it will do him far more good than any statue. 'What do you mean by cherishing them?' I will tell you. Oedipus and Amyntor and Theseus cursed their children, and their curses took effect. This proves that the Gods hear the curses of parents who are wronged; and shall we doubt that they hear and fulfil their blessings too?' 'Surely not.' And, as we were saying, no image is more honoured by the Gods than an aged father and mother, to whom when honour is done, the God who hears their prayers is rejoiced, and their influence is greater than that of the lifeless statue; for they pray that good or evil may come to us in proportion as they are honoured or dishonoured, but the statue is silent. 'Excellent.' Good men are glad when their parents live to extreme old age, or if they depart early, lament their loss; but to bad man their parents are always terrible. Wherefore let every one honour his parents, and if this preamble fails of influencing him, let him hear the law:—If any one does not take sufficient care of his parents, let the aggrieved person inform the three eldest guardians of the law and three of the women who are concerned with marriages. Women up to forty years of age, and men up to thirty, who thus offend, shall be beaten and imprisoned. After that age they are to be brought before a court composed of the eldest citizens, who may inflict any punishment upon them which they please. If the injured party cannot inform, let any freeman who hears of the case inform; a slave who does so shall be set free,—if he be the slave of the one of the parties, by the magistrate,—if owned by another, at the cost of the state; and let the magistrates, take care that he is not wronged by any one out of revenge.

The injuries which one person does to another by the use of poisons are of two kinds;—one affects the body by the employment of drugs and potions; the other works on the mind by the practice of sorcery and magic. Fatal cases of either sort have been already mentioned; and now we must have a law respecting cases which are not fatal. There is no use in arguing with a man whose mind is disturbed by waxen images placed at his own door, or on the sepulchre of his father or mother, or at a spot where three ways meet. But to the wizards themselves we must address a solemn preamble, begging them not to treat the world as if they were children, or compel the legislator to expose them, and to show men that the poisoner who is not a physician and the wizard who is not a prophet or diviner are equally ignorant of what they are doing. Let the law be as follows:—He who by the use of poison does any injury not fatal to a man or his servants, or any injury whether fatal or not to another's cattle or bees, is to be punished with death if he be a physician, and if he be not a physician he is to suffer the punishment awarded by the court: and he who injures another by sorcery, if he be a diviner or prophet, shall be put to death; and, if he be not a diviner, the court shall determine what he ought to pay or suffer.

Any one who injures another by theft or violence shall pay damages at least equal to the injury; and besides the compensation, a suitable punishment shall be inflicted. The foolish youth who is the victim of others is to have a lighter punishment; he whose folly is occasioned by his own jealousy or desire or anger is to suffer more heavily. Punishment is to be inflicted, not for the sake of vengeance, for what is done cannot be undone, but for the sake of prevention and reformation. And there should be a proportion between the punishment and the crime, in which the judge, having a discretion left him, must, by estimating the crime, second the legislator, who, like a painter, furnishes outlines for him to fill up.

A madman is not to go about at large in the city, but is to be taken care of by his relatives. Neglect on their part is to be punished in the first class by a fine of a hundred drachmas, and proportionally in the others. Now madness is of various kinds; in addition to that which arises from disease there is the madness which originates in a passionate temperament, and makes men when engaged in a quarrel use foul and abusive language against each other. This is intolerable in a well-ordered state; and therefore our law shall be as follows:—No one is to speak evil of another, but when men differ in opinion they are to instruct one another without speaking evil. Nor should any one seek to rouse the passions which education has calmed; for he who feeds and nurses his wrath is apt to make ribald jests at his opponent, with a loss of character or dignity to himself. And for this reason no one may use any abusive word in a temple, or at sacrifices, or games, or in any public assembly, and he who offends shall be censured by the proper magistrate; and the magistrate, if he fail to censure him, shall not claim the prize of virtue. In any other place the angry man who indulges in revilings, whether he be the beginner or not, may be chastised by an elder. The reviler is always trying to make his opponent ridiculous; and the use of ridicule in anger we cannot allow. We forbid the comic poet to ridicule our citizens, under a penalty of expulsion from the country or a fine of three minae. Jest in which there is no offence may be allowed; but the question of offence shall be determined by the director of education, who is to be the licenser of theatrical performances.

The righteous man who is in adversity will not be allowed to starve in a well-ordered city; he will never be a beggar. Nor is a man to be pitied, merely because he is hungry, unless he be temperate. Therefore let the law be as follows:—Let there be no beggars in our state; and he who begs shall be expelled by the magistrates both from town and country.

If a slave, male or female, does any harm to the property of another, who is not himself a party to the harm, the master shall compensate the injury or give up the offending slave. But if the master argue that the charge has arisen by collusion, with the view of obtaining the slave, he may put the plaintiff on his trial for malpractices, and recover from him twice the value of the slave; or if he is cast he must make good the damage and deliver up the slave. The injury done by a horse or other animal shall be compensated in like manner.

A witness who will not come of himself may be summoned, and if he fail in appearing, he shall be liable for any harm which may ensue: if he swears that he does not know, he may leave the court. A judge who is called upon as a witness must not vote. A free woman, if she is over forty, may bear witness and plead, and, if she have no husband, she may also bring an action. A slave, male or female, and a child may witness and plead only in case of murder, but they must give sureties that they will appear at the trial, if they should be charged with false witness. Such charges must be made pending the trial, and the accusations shall be sealed by both parties and kept by the magistrates until the trial for perjury comes off. If a man is twice convicted of perjury, he is not to be required, if three times, he is not to be allowed to bear witness, or, if he persists in bearing witness, is to be punished with death. When more than half the evidence is proved to be false there must be a new trial.

The best and noblest things in human life are liable to be defiled and perverted. Is not justice the civilizer of mankind? And yet upon the noble profession of the advocate has come an evil name. For he is said to make the worse appear the better cause, and only requires money in return for his services. Such an art will be forbidden by the legislator, and if existing among us will be requested to depart to another city. To the disobedient let the voice of the law be heard saying:—He who tries to pervert justice in the minds of the judges, or to increase litigation, shall be brought before the supreme court. If he does so from contentiousness, let him be silenced for a time, and, if he offend again, put to death. If he have acted from a love of gain, let him be sent out of the country if he be a foreigner, or if he be a citizen let him be put to death.

BOOK XII. If a false message be taken to or brought from other states, whether friendly or hostile, by ambassadors or heralds, they shall be indicted for having dishonoured their sacred office, and, if convicted, shall suffer a penalty.—Stealing is mean; robbery is shameless. Let no man deceive himself by the supposed example of the Gods, for no God or son of a God ever really practised either force or fraud. On this point the legislator is better informed than all the poets put together. He who listens to him shall be for ever happy, but he who will not listen shall have the following law directed against him:—He who steals much, or he who steals little of the public property is deserving of the same penalty; for they are both impelled by the same evil motive. When the law punishes one man more lightly than another, this is done under the idea, not that he is less guilty, but that he is more curable. Now a thief who is a foreigner or slave may be curable; but the thief who is a citizen, and has had the advantages of education, should be put to death, for he is incurable.

Much consideration and many regulations are necessary about military expeditions; the great principal of all is that no one, male or female, in war or peace, in great matters or small, shall be without a commander. Whether men stand or walk, or drill, or pursue, or retreat, or wash, or eat, they should all act together and in obedience to orders. We should practise from our youth upwards the habits of command and obedience. All dances, relaxations, endurances of meats and drinks, of cold and heat, and of hard couches, should have a view to war, and care should be taken not to destroy the natural covering and use of the head and feet by wearing shoes and caps; for the head is the lord of the body, and the feet are the best of servants. The soldier should have thoughts like these; and let him hear the law:—He who is enrolled shall serve, and if he absent himself without leave he shall be indicted for failure of service before his own branch of the army when the expedition returns, and if he be found guilty he shall suffer the penalty which the courts award, and never be allowed to contend for any prize of valour, or to accuse another of misbehaviour in military matters. Desertion shall also be tried and punished in the same manner. After the courts for trying failure of service and desertion have been held, the generals shall hold another court, in which the several arms of the service will award prizes for the expedition which has just concluded. The prize is to be a crown of olive, which the victor shall offer up at the temple of his favourite war God...In any suit which a man brings, let the indictment be scrupulously true, for justice is an honourable maiden, to whom falsehood is naturally hateful. For example, when men are prosecuted for having lost their arms, great care should be taken by the witnesses to distinguish between cases in which they have been lost from necessity and from cowardice. If the hero Patroclus had not been killed but had been brought back alive from the field, he might have been reproached with having lost the divine armour. And a man may lose his arms in a storm at sea, or from a fall, and under many other circumstances. There is a distinction of language to be observed in the use of the two terms, 'thrower away of a shield' (ripsaspis), and 'loser of arms' (apoboleus oplon), one being the voluntary, the other the involuntary relinquishment of them. Let the law then be as follows:—If any one is overtaken by the enemy, having arms in his hands, and he leaves them behind him voluntarily, choosing base life instead of honourable death, let justice be done. The old legend of Caeneus, who was changed by Poseidon from a woman into a man, may teach by contraries the appropriate punishment. Let the thrower away of his shield be changed from a man into a woman—that is to say, let him be all his life out of danger, and never again be admitted by any commander into the ranks of his army; and let him pay a heavy fine according to his class. And any commander who permits him to serve shall also be punished by a fine.

All magistrates, whatever be their tenure of office, must give an account of their magistracy. But where shall we find the magistrate who is worthy to supervise them or look into their short-comings and crooked ways? The examiner must be more than man who is sufficient for these things. For the truth is that there are many causes of the dissolution of states; which, like ships or animals, have their cords, and girders, and sinews easily relaxed, and nothing tends more to their welfare and preservation than the supervision of them by examiners who are better than the magistrates; failing in this they fall to pieces, and each becomes many instead of one. Wherefore let the people meet after the summer solstice, in the precincts of Apollo and the Sun, and appoint three men of not less than fifty years of age. They shall proceed as follows:—Each citizen shall select some one, not himself, whom he thinks the best. The persons selected shall be reduced to one half, who have the greatest number of votes, if they are an even number; but if an odd number, he who has the smallest number of votes shall be previously withdrawn. The voting shall continue in the same manner until three only remain; and if the number of votes cast for them be equal, a distinction between the first, second, and third shall be made by lot. The three shall be crowned with an olive wreath, and proclamation made, that the city of the Magnetes, once more preserved by the Gods, presents her three best men to Apollo and the Sun, to whom she dedicates them as long as their lives answer to the judgment formed of them. They shall choose in the first year of their office twelve examiners, to continue until they are seventy-five years of age; afterwards three shall be added annually. While they hold office, they shall dwell within the precinct of the God. They are to divide all the magistracies into twelve classes, and may apply any methods of enquiry, and inflict any punishments which they please; in some cases singly, in other cases together, announcing the acquittal or punishment of the magistrate on a tablet which they will place in the agora. A magistrate who has been condemned by the examiners may appeal to the select judges, and, if he gain his suit, may in turn prosecute the examiners; but if the appellant is cast, his punishment shall be doubled, unless he was previously condemned to death.

And what honours shall be paid to these examiners, whom the whole state counts worthy of the rewards of virtue? They shall have the first place at all sacrifices and other ceremonies, and in all assemblies and public places; they shall go on sacred embassies, and have the exclusive privilege of wearing a crown of laurel. They are priests of Apollo and the Sun, and he of their number who is judged first shall be high priest, and give his name to the year. The manner of their burial, too, shall be different from that of the other citizens. The colour of their funeral array shall be white, and, instead of the voice of lamentation, around the bier shall stand a chorus of fifteen boys and fifteen maidens, chanting hymns in honour of the deceased in alternate strains during an entire day; and at dawn a band of a hundred youths shall carry the bier to the grave, marching in the garb of warriors, and the boys in front of the bier shall sing their national hymn, while the maidens and women past child-bearing follow after. Priests and priestesses may also follow, unless the Pythian oracle forbids. The sepulchre shall be a vault built underground, which will last for ever, having couches of stone placed side by side; on one of these they shall lay the departed saint, and then cover the tomb with a mound, and plant trees on every side except one, where an opening shall be left for other interments. Every year there shall be games—musical, gymnastic, or equestrian, in honour of those who have passed every ordeal. But if any of them, after having been acquitted on any occasion, begin to show the wickedness of human nature, he who pleases may bring them to trial before a court composed of the guardians of the law, and of the select judges, and of any of the examiners who are alive. If he be convicted he shall be deprived of his honours, and if the accuser do not obtain a fifth part of the votes, he shall pay a fine according to his class.

What is called the judgment of Rhadamanthus is suited to 'ages of faith,' but not to our days. He knew that his contemporaries believed in the Gods, for many of them were the sons of Gods; and he thought that the easiest and surest method of ending litigation was to commit the decision to Heaven. In our own day, men either deny the existence of Gods or their care of men, or maintain that they may be bribed by attentions and gifts; and the procedure of Rhadamanthus would therefore be out of date. When the religious ideas of mankind change, their laws should also change. Thus oaths should no longer be taken from plaintiff and defendant; simple statements of affirmation and denial should be substituted. For there is something dreadful in the thought, that nearly half the citizens of a state are perjured men. There is no objection to an oath, where a man has no interest in forswearing himself; as, for example, when a judge is about to give his decision, or in voting at an election, or in the judgment of games and contests. But where there would be a premium on perjury, oaths and imprecations should be prohibited as irrelevant, like appeals to feeling. Let the principles of justice be learned and taught without words of evil omen. The oaths of a stranger against a stranger may be allowed, because strangers are not permitted to become permanent residents in our state.

Trials in private causes are to be decided in the same manner as lesser offences against the state. The non-attendance at a chorus or sacrifice, or the omission to pay a war-tax, may be regarded as in the first instance remediable, and the defaulter may give security; but if he forfeits the security, the goods pledged shall be sold and the money given to the state. And for obstinate disobedience, the magistrate shall have the power of inflicting greater penalties.

A city which is without trade or commerce must consider what it will do about the going abroad of its own people and the admission of strangers. For out of intercourse with strangers there arises great confusion of manners, which in most states is not of any consequence, because the confusion exists already; but in a well-ordered state it may be a great evil. Yet the absolute prohibition of foreign travel, or the exclusion of strangers, is impossible, and would appear barbarous to the rest of mankind. Public opinion should never be lightly regarded, for the many are not so far wrong in their judgments as in their lives. Even the worst of men have often a divine instinct, which enables them to judge of the differences between the good and bad. States are rightly advised when they desire to have the praise of men; and the greatest and truest praise is that of virtue. And our Cretan colony should, and probably will, have a character for virtue, such as few cities have. Let this, then, be our law about foreign travel and the reception of strangers:—No one shall be allowed to leave the country who is under forty years of age—of course military service abroad is not included in this regulation—and no one at all except in a public capacity. To the Olympic, and Pythian, and Nemean, and Isthmian games, shall be sent the fairest and best and bravest, who shall support the dignity of the city in time of peace. These, when they come home, shall teach the youth the inferiority of all other governments. Besides those who go on sacred missions, other persons shall be sent out by permission of the guardians to study the institutions of foreign countries. For a people which has no experience, and no knowledge of the characters of men or the reason of things, but lives by habit only, can never be perfectly civilized. Moreover, in all states, bad as well as good, there are holy and inspired men; these the citizen of a well-ordered city should be ever seeking out; he should go forth to find them over sea and over land, that he may more firmly establish institutions in his own state which are good already and amend the bad. 'What will be the best way of accomplishing such an object?' In the first place, let the visitor of foreign countries be between fifty and sixty years of age, and let him be a citizen of repute, especially in military matters. On his return he shall appear before the Nocturnal Council: this is a body which sits from dawn to sunrise, and includes amongst its members the priests who have gained the prize of virtue, and the ten oldest guardians of the law, and the director and past directors of education; each of whom has power to bring with him a younger friend of his own selection, who is between thirty and forty. The assembly thus constituted shall consider the laws of their own and other states, and gather information relating to them. Anything of the sort which is approved by the elder members of the council shall be studied with all diligence by the younger; who are to be specially watched by the rest of the citizens, and shall receive honour, if they are deserving of honour, or dishonour, if they prove inferior. This is the assembly to which the visitor of foreign countries shall come and tell anything which he has heard from others in the course of his travels, or which he has himself observed. If he be made neither better nor worse, let him at least be praised for his zeal; and let him receive still more praise, and special honour after death, if he be improved. But if he be deteriorated by his travels, let him be prohibited from speaking to any one; and if he submit, he may live as a private individual: but if he be convicted of attempting to make innovations in education and the laws, let him die.

Next, as to the reception of strangers. Of these there are four classes:—First, merchants, who, like birds of passage, find their way over the sea at a certain time of the year, that they may exhibit their wares. These should be received in markets and public buildings without the city, by proper officers, who shall see that justice is done them, and shall also watch against any political designs which they may entertain; no more intercourse is to be held with them than is absolutely necessary. Secondly, there are the visitors at the festivals, who shall be entertained by hospitable persons at the temples for a reasonable time; the priests and ministers of the temples shall have a care of them. In small suits brought by them or against them, the priests shall be the judges; but in the more important, the wardens of the agora. Thirdly, there are ambassadors of foreign states; these are to be honourably received by the generals and commanders, and placed under the care of the Prytanes and of the persons with whom they are lodged. Fourthly, there is the philosophical stranger, who, like our own spectators, from time to time goes to see what is rich and rare in foreign countries. Like them he must be fifty years of age: and let him go unbidden to the doors of the wise and rich, that he may learn from them, and they from him.

These are the rules of missions into foreign countries, and of the reception of strangers. Let Zeus, the God of hospitality, be honoured; and let not the stranger be excluded, as in Egypt, from meals and sacrifices, or, (as at Sparta,) driven away by savage proclamations.

Let guarantees be clearly given in writing and before witnesses. The number of witnesses shall be three when the sum lent is under a thousand drachmas, or five when above. The agent and principal at a fraudulent sale shall be equally liable. He who would search another man's house for anything must swear that he expects to find it there; and he shall enter naked, or having on a single garment and no girdle. The owner shall place at the disposal of the searcher all his goods, sealed as well as unsealed; if he refuse, he shall be liable in double the value of the property, if it shall prove to be in his possession. If the owner be absent, the searcher may counter-seal the property which is under seal, and place watchers. If the owner remain absent more than five days, the searcher shall take the magistrates, and open the sealed property, and seal it up again in their presence. The recovery of goods disputed, except in the case of lands and houses, (about which there can be no dispute in our state), is to be barred by time. The public and unimpeached use of anything for a year in the city, or for five years in the country, or the private possession and domestic use for three years in the city, or for ten years in the country, is to give a right of ownership. But if the possessor have the property in a foreign country, there shall be no bar as to time. The proceedings of any trial are to be void, in which either the parties or the witnesses, whether bond or free, have been prevented by violence from attending:—if a slave be prevented, the suit shall be invalid; or if a freeman, he who is guilty of the violence shall be imprisoned for a year, and shall also be liable to an action for kidnapping. If one competitor forcibly prevents another from attending at the games, the other may be inscribed as victor in the temples, and the first, whether victor or not, shall be liable to an action for damages. The receiver of stolen goods shall undergo the same punishment as the thief. The receiver of an exile shall be punished with death. A man ought to have the same friends and enemies as his country; and he who makes war or peace for himself shall be put to death. And if a party in the state make war or peace, their leaders shall be indicted by the generals, and, if convicted, they shall be put to death. The ministers and officers of a country ought not to receive gifts, even as the reward of good deeds. He who disobeys shall die.

With a view to taxation a man should have his property and income valued: and the government may, at their discretion, levy the tax upon the annual return, or take a portion of the whole.

The good man will offer moderate gifts to the Gods; his land or hearth cannot be offered, because they are already consecrated to all Gods. Gold and silver, which arouse envy, and ivory, which is taken from the dead body of an animal, are unsuitable offerings; iron and brass are materials of war. Wood and stone of a single piece may be offered; also woven work which has not occupied one woman more than a month in making. White is a colour which is acceptable to the Gods; figures of birds and similar offerings are the best of gifts, but they must be such as the painter can execute in a day.

Next concerning lawsuits. Judges, or rather arbiters, may be agreed upon by the plaintiff and defendant; and if no decision is obtained from them, their fellow-tribesmen shall judge. At this stage there shall be an increase of the penalty: the defendant, if he be cast, shall pay a fifth more than the damages claimed. If he further persist, and appeal a second time, the case shall be heard before the select judges; and he shall pay, if defeated, the penalty and half as much again. And the pursuer, if on the first appeal he is defeated, shall pay one fifth of the damages claimed by him; and if on the second, one half. Other matters relating to trials, such as the assignment of judges to courts, the times of sitting, the number of judges, the modes of pleading and procedure, as we have already said, may be determined by younger legislators.

These are to be the rules of private courts. As regards public courts, many states have excellent modes of procedure which may serve for models; these, when duly tested by experience, should be ratified and made permanent by us.

Let the judge be accomplished in the laws. He should possess writings about them, and make a study of them; for laws are the highest instrument of mental improvement, and derive their name from mind (nous, nomos). They afford a measure of all censure and praise, whether in verse or prose, in conversation or in books, and are an antidote to the vain disputes of men and their equally vain acquiescence in each other's opinions. The just judge, who imbibes their spirit, makes the city and himself to stand upright. He establishes justice for the good, and cures the tempers of the bad, if they can be cured; but denounces death, which is the only remedy, to the incurable, the threads of whose life cannot be reversed.

When the suits of the year are completed, execution is to follow. The court is to award to the plaintiff the property of the defendant, if he is cast, reserving to him only his lot of land. If the plaintiff is not satisfied within a month, the court shall put into his hands the property of the defendant. If the defendant fails in payment to the amount of a drachma, he shall lose the use and protection of the court; or if he rebel against the authority of the court, he shall be brought before the guardians of the law, and if found guilty he shall be put to death.

Man having been born, educated, having begotten and brought up children, and gone to law, fulfils the debt of nature. The rites which are to be celebrated after death in honour of the Gods above and below shall be determined by the Interpreters. The dead shall be buried in uncultivated places, where they will be out of the way and do least injury to the living. For no one either in life or after death has any right to deprive other men of the sustenance which mother earth provides for them. No sepulchral mound is to be piled higher than five men can raise it in five days, and the grave-stone shall not be larger than is sufficient to contain an inscription of four heroic verses. The dead are only to be exposed for three days, which is long enough to test the reality of death. The legislator will instruct the people that the body is a mere shadow or image, and that the soul, which is our true being, is gone to give an account of herself before the Gods below. When they hear this, the good are full of hope, and the evil are terrified. It is also said that not much can be done for any one after death. And therefore while in life all man should be helped by their kindred to pass their days justly and holily, that they may depart in peace. When a man loses a son or a brother, he should consider that the beloved one has gone away to fulfil his destiny in another place, and should not waste money over his lifeless remains. Let the law then order a moderate funeral of five minae for the first class, of three for the second, of two for the third, of one for the fourth. One of the guardians of the law, to be selected by the relatives, shall assist them in arranging the affairs of the deceased. There would be a want of delicacy in prescribing that there should or should not be mourning for the dead. But, at any rate, such mourning is to be confined to the house; there must be no processions in the streets, and the dead body shall be taken out of the city before daybreak. Regulations about other forms of burial and about the non-burial of parricides and other sacrilegious persons have already been laid down. The work of legislation is therefore nearly completed; its end will be finally accomplished when we have provided for the continuance of the state.

Do you remember the names of the Fates? Lachesis, the giver of the lots, is the first of them; Clotho, the spinster, the second; Atropos, the unchanging one, is the third and last, who makes the threads of the web irreversible. And we too want to make our laws irreversible, for the unchangeable quality in them will be the salvation of the state, and the source of health and order in the bodies and souls of our citizens. 'But can such a quality be implanted?' I think that it may; and at any rate we must try; for, after all our labour, to have been piling up a fabric which has no foundation would be too ridiculous. 'What foundation would you lay?' We have already instituted an assembly which was composed of the ten oldest guardians of the law, and secondly, of those who had received prizes of virtue, and thirdly, of the travellers who had gone abroad to enquire into the laws of other countries. Moreover, each of the members was to choose a young man, of not less than thirty years of age, to be approved by the rest; and they were to meet at dawn, when all the world is at leisure. This assembly will be an anchor to the vessel of state, and provide the means of permanence; for the constitutions of states, like all other things, have their proper saviours, which are to them what the head and soul are to the living being. 'How do you mean?' Mind in the soul, and sight and hearing in the head, or rather, the perfect union of mind and sense, may be justly called every man's salvation. 'Certainly.' Yes; but of what nature is this union? In the case of a ship, for example, the senses of the sailors are added to the intelligence of the pilot, and the two together save the ship and the men in the ship. Again, the physician and the general have their objects; and the object of the one is health, of the other victory. States, too, have their objects, and the ruler must understand, first, their nature, and secondly, the means of attaining them, whether in laws or men. The state which is wanting in this knowledge cannot be expected to be wise when the time for action arrives. Now what class or institution is there in our state which has such a saving power? 'I suspect that you are referring to the Nocturnal Council.' Yes, to that council which is to have all virtue, and which should aim directly at the mark. 'Very true.' The inconsistency of legislation in most states is not surprising, when the variety of their objects is considered. One of them makes their rule of justice the government of a class; another aims at wealth; another at freedom, or at freedom and power; and some who call themselves philosophers maintain that you should seek for all of them at once. But our object is unmistakeably virtue, and virtue is of four kinds. 'Yes; and we said that mind is the chief and ruler of the three other kinds of virtue and of all else.' True, Cleinias; and now, having already declared the object which is present to the mind of the pilot, the general, the physician, we will interrogate the mind of the statesman. Tell me, I say, as the physician and general have told us their object, what is the object of the statesman. Can you tell me? 'We cannot.' Did we not say that there are four virtues—courage, wisdom, and two others, all of which are called by the common name of virtue, and are in a sense one? 'Certainly we did.' The difficulty is, not in understanding the differences of the virtues, but in apprehending their unity. Why do we call virtue, which is a single thing, by the two names of wisdom and courage? The reason is that courage is concerned with fear, and is found both in children and in brutes; for the soul may be courageous without reason, but no soul was, or ever will be, wise without reason. 'That is true.' I have explained to you the difference, and do you in return explain to me the unity. But first let us consider whether any one who knows the name of a thing without the definition has any real knowledge of it. Is not such knowledge a disgrace to a man of sense, especially where great and glorious truths are concerned? and can any subject be more worthy of the attention of our legislators than the four virtues of which we are speaking—courage, temperance, justice, wisdom? Ought not the magistrates and officers of the state to instruct the citizens in the nature of virtue and vice, instead of leaving them to be taught by some chance poet or sophist? A city which is without instruction suffers the usual fate of cities in our day. What then shall we do? How shall we perfect the ideas of our guardians about virtue? how shall we give our state a head and eyes? 'Yes, but how do you apply the figure?' The city will be the body or trunk; the best of our young men will mount into the head or acropolis and be our eyes; they will look about them, and inform the elders, who are the mind and use the younger men as their instruments: together they will save the state. Shall this be our constitution, or shall all be educated alike, and the special training be given up? 'That is impossible.' Let us then endeavour to attain to some more exact idea of education. Did we not say that the true artist or guardian ought to have an eye, not only to the many, but to the one, and to order all things with a view to the one? Can there be any more philosophical speculation than how to reduce many things which are unlike to one idea? 'Perhaps not.' Say rather, 'Certainly not.' And the rulers of our divine state ought to have an exact knowledge of the common principle in courage, temperance, justice, wisdom, which is called by the name of virtue; and unless we know whether virtue is one or many, we shall hardly know what virtue is. Shall we contrive some means of engrafting this knowledge on our state, or give the matter up? 'Anything rather than that.' Let us begin by making an agreement. 'By all means, if we can.' Well, are we not agreed that our guardians ought to know, not only how the good and the honourable are many, but also how they are one? 'Yes, certainly.' The true guardian of the laws ought to know their truth, and should also be able to interpret and execute them? 'He should.' And is there any higher knowledge than the knowledge of the existence and power of the Gods? The people may be excused for following tradition; but the guardian must be able to give a reason of the faith which is in him. And there are two great evidences of religion—the priority of the soul and the order of the heavens. For no man of sense, when he contemplates the universe, will be likely to substitute necessity for reason and will. Those who maintain that the sun and the stars are inanimate beings are utterly wrong in their opinions. The men of a former generation had a suspicion, which has been confirmed by later thinkers, that things inanimate could never without mind have attained such scientific accuracy; and some (Anaxagoras) even in those days ventured to assert that mind had ordered all things in heaven; but they had no idea of the priority of mind, and they turned the world, or more properly themselves, upside down, and filled the universe with stones, and earth, and other inanimate bodies. This led to great impiety, and the poets said many foolish things against the philosophers, whom they compared to 'yelping she-dogs,' besides making other abusive remarks. No man can now truly worship the Gods who does not believe that the soul is eternal, and prior to the body, and the ruler of all bodies, and does not perceive also that there is mind in the stars; or who has not heard the connexion of these things with music, and has not harmonized them with manners and laws, giving a reason of things which are matters of reason. He who is unable to acquire this knowledge, as well as the ordinary virtues of a citizen, can only be a servant, and not a ruler in the state.

Let us then add another law to the effect that the Nocturnal Council shall be a guard set for the salvation of the state. 'Very good.' To establish this will be our aim, and I hope that others besides myself will assist. 'Let us proceed along the road in which God seems to guide us.' We cannot, Megillus and Cleinias, anticipate the details which will hereafter be needed; they must be supplied by experience. 'What do you mean?' First of all a register will have to be made of all those whose age, character, or education would qualify them to be guardians. The subjects which they are to learn, and the order in which they are to be learnt, are mysteries which cannot be explained beforehand, but not mysteries in any other sense. 'If that is the case, what is to be done?' We must stake our all on a lucky throw, and I will share the risk by stating my views on education. And I would have you, Cleinias, who are the founder of the Magnesian state, and will obtain the greatest glory if you succeed, and will at least be praised for your courage, if you fail, take especial heed of this matter. If we can only establish the Nocturnal Council, we will hand over the city to its keeping; none of the present company will hesitate about that. Our dream will then become a reality; and our citizens, if they are carefully chosen and well educated, will be saviours and guardians such as the world hitherto has never seen.

The want of completeness in the Laws becomes more apparent in the later books. There is less arrangement in them, and the transitions are more abrupt from one subject to another. Yet they contain several noble passages, such as the 'prelude to the discourse concerning the honour and dishonour of parents,' or the picture of the dangers attending the 'friendly intercourse of young men and maidens with one another,' or the soothing remonstrance which is addressed to the dying man respecting his right to do what he will with his own, or the fine description of the burial of the dead. The subject of religion in Book X is introduced as a prelude to offences against the Gods, and this portion of the work appears to be executed in Plato's best manner.

In the last four books, several questions occur for consideration: among them are (I) the detection and punishment of offences; (II) the nature of the voluntary and involuntary; (III) the arguments against atheism, and against the opinion that the Gods have no care of human affairs; (IV) the remarks upon retail trade; (V) the institution of the Nocturnal Council.

I. A weak point in the Laws of Plato is the amount of inquisition into private life which is to be made by the rulers. The magistrate is always watching and waylaying the citizens. He is constantly to receive information against improprieties of life. Plato does not seem to be aware that espionage can only have a negative effect. He has not yet discovered the boundary line which parts the domain of law from that of morality or social life. Men will not tell of one another; nor will he ever be the most honoured citizen, who gives the most frequent information about offenders to the magistrates.

As in some writers of fiction, so also in philosophers, we may observe the effect of age. Plato becomes more conservative as he grows older, and he would govern the world entirely by men like himself, who are above fifty years of age; for in them he hopes to find a principle of stability. He does not remark that, in destroying the freedom he is destroying also the life of the State. In reducing all the citizens to rule and measure, he would have been depriving the Magnesian colony of those great men 'whose acquaintance is beyond all price;' and he would have found that in the worst-governed Hellenic State, there was more of a carriere ouverte for extraordinary genius and virtue than in his own.

Plato has an evident dislike of the Athenian dicasteries; he prefers a few judges who take a leading part in the conduct of trials to a great number who only listen in silence. He allows of two appeals—in each case however with an increase of the penalty. Modern jurists would disapprove of the redress of injustice being purchased only at an increasing risk; though indirectly the burden of legal expenses, which seems to have been little felt among the Athenians, has a similar effect. The love of litigation, which is a remnant of barbarism quite as much as a corruption of civilization, and was innate in the Athenian people, is diminished in the new state by the imposition of severe penalties. If persevered in, it is to be punished with death.

In the Laws murder and homicide besides being crimes, are also pollutions. Regarded from this point of view, the estimate of such offences is apt to depend on accidental circumstances, such as the shedding of blood, and not on the real guilt of the offender or the injury done to society. They are measured by the horror which they arouse in a barbarous age. For there is a superstition in law as well as in religion, and the feelings of a primitive age have a traditional hold on the mass of the people. On the other hand, Plato is innocent of the barbarity which would visit the sins of the fathers upon the children, and he is quite aware that punishment has an eye to the future, and not to the past. Compared with that of most European nations in the last century his penal code, though sometimes capricious, is reasonable and humane.

A defect in Plato's criminal jurisprudence is his remission of the punishment when the homicide has obtained the forgiveness of the murdered person; as if crime were a personal affair between individuals, and not an offence against the State. There is a ridiculous disproportion in his punishments. Because a slave may fairly receive a blow for stealing one fig or one bunch of grapes, or a tradesman for selling adulterated goods to the value of one drachma, it is rather hard upon the slave that he should receive as many blows as he has taken grapes or figs, or upon the tradesman who has sold adulterated goods to the value of a thousand drachmas that he should receive a thousand blows.

II. But before punishment can be inflicted at all, the legislator must determine the nature of the voluntary and involuntary. The great question of the freedom of the will, which in modern times has been worn threadbare with purely abstract discussion, was approached both by Plato and Aristotle—first, from the judicial; secondly, from the sophistical point of view. They were puzzled by the degrees and kinds of crime; they observed also that the law only punished hurts which are inflicted by a voluntary agent on an involuntary patient.

In attempting to distinguish between hurt and injury, Plato says that mere hurt is not injury; but that a benefit when done in a wrong spirit may sometimes injure, e.g. when conferred without regard to right and wrong, or to the good or evil consequences which may follow. He means to say that the good or evil disposition of the agent is the principle which characterizes actions; and this is not sufficiently described by the terms voluntary and involuntary. You may hurt another involuntarily, and no one would suppose that you had injured him; and you may hurt him voluntarily, as in inflicting punishment—neither is this injury; but if you hurt him from motives of avarice, ambition, or cowardly fear, this is injury. Injustice is also described as the victory of desire or passion or self-conceit over reason, as justice is the subordination of them to reason. In some paradoxical sense Plato is disposed to affirm all injustice to be involuntary; because no man would do injustice who knew that it never paid and could calculate the consequences of what he was doing. Yet, on the other hand, he admits that the distinction of voluntary and involuntary, taken in another and more obvious sense, is the basis of legislation. His conception of justice and injustice is complicated (1) by the want of a distinction between justice and virtue, that is to say, between the quality which primarily regards others, and the quality in which self and others are equally regarded; (2) by the confusion of doing and suffering justice; (3) by the unwillingness to renounce the old Socratic paradox, that evil is involuntary.

III. The Laws rest on a religious foundation; in this respect they bear the stamp of primitive legislation. They do not escape the almost inevitable consequence of making irreligion penal. If laws are based upon religion, the greatest offence against them must be irreligion. Hence the necessity for what in modern language, and according to a distinction which Plato would scarcely have understood, might be termed persecution. But the spirit of persecution in Plato, unlike that of modern religious bodies, arises out of the desire to enforce a true and simple form of religion, and is directed against the superstitions which tend to degrade mankind. Sir Thomas More, in his Utopia, is in favour of tolerating all except the intolerant, though he would not promote to high offices those who disbelieved in the immortality of the soul. Plato has not advanced quite so far as this in the path of toleration. But in judging of his enlightenment, we must remember that the evils of necromancy and divination were far greater than those of intolerance in the ancient world. Human nature is always having recourse to the first; but only when organized into some form of priesthood falls into the other; although in primitive as in later ages the institution of a priesthood may claim probably to be an advance on some form of religion which preceded. The Laws would have rested on a sounder foundation, if Plato had ever distinctly realized to his mind the difference between crime and sin or vice. Of this, as of many other controversies, a clear definition might have been the end. But such a definition belongs to a later age of philosophy.

The arguments which Plato uses for the being of a God, have an extremely modern character: first, the consensus gentium; secondly, the argument which has already been adduced in the Phaedrus, of the priority of the self-moved. The answer to those who say that God 'cares not,' is, that He governs by general laws; and that he who takes care of the great will assuredly take care of the small. Plato did not feel, and has not attempted to consider, the difficulty of reconciling the special with the general providence of God. Yet he is on the road to a solution, when he regards the world as a whole, of which all the parts work together towards the final end.

We are surprised to find that the scepticism, which we attribute to young men in our own day, existed then (compare Republic); that the Epicureanism expressed in the line of Horace (borrowed from Lucretius)—

'Namque Deos didici securum agere aevum,'

was already prevalent in the age of Plato; and that the terrors of another world were freely used in order to gain advantages over other men in this. The same objection which struck the Psalmist—'when I saw the prosperity of the wicked'—is supposed to lie at the root of the better sort of unbelief. And the answer is substantially the same which the modern theologian would offer:—that the ways of God in this world cannot be justified unless there be a future state of rewards and punishments. Yet this future state of rewards and punishments is in Plato's view not any addition of happiness or suffering imposed from without, but the permanence of good and evil in the soul: here he is in advance of many modern theologians. The Greek, too, had his difficulty about the existence of evil, which in one solitary passage, remarkable for being inconsistent with his general system, Plato explains, after the Magian fashion, by a good and evil spirit (compare Theaet., Statesman). This passage is also remarkable for being at variance with the general optimism of the Tenth Book—not 'all things are ordered by God for the best,' but some things by a good, others by an evil spirit.

The Tenth Book of the Laws presents a picture of the state of belief among the Greeks singularly like that of the world in which we live. Plato is disposed to attribute the incredulity of his own age to several causes. First, to the bad effect of mythological tales, of which he retains his disapproval; but he has a weak side for antiquity, and is unwilling, as in the Republic, wholly to proscribe them. Secondly, he remarks the self-conceit of a newly-fledged generation of philosophers, who declare that the sun, moon, and stars, are earth and stones only; and who also maintain that the Gods are made by the laws of the state. Thirdly, he notes a confusion in the minds of men arising out of their misinterpretation of the appearances of the world around them: they do not always see the righteous rewarded and the wicked punished. So in modern times there are some whose infidelity has arisen from doubts about the inspiration of ancient writings; others who have been made unbelievers by physical science, or again by the seemingly political character of religion; while there is a third class to whose minds the difficulty of 'justifying the ways of God to man' has been the chief stumblingblock. Plato is very much out of temper at the impiety of some of his contemporaries; yet he is determined to reason with the victims, as he regards them, of these illusions before he punishes them. His answer to the unbelievers is twofold: first, that the soul is prior to the body; secondly, that the ruler of the universe being perfect has made all things with a view to their perfection. The difficulties arising out of ancient sacred writings were far less serious in the age of Plato than in our own.

We too have our popular Epicureanism, which would allow the world to go on as if there were no God. When the belief in Him, whether of ancient or modern times, begins to fade away, men relegate Him, either in theory or practice, into a distant heaven. They do not like expressly to deny God when it is more convenient to forget Him; and so the theory of the Epicurean becomes the practice of mankind in general. Nor can we be said to be free from that which Plato justly considers to be the worst unbelief—of those who put superstition in the place of true religion. For the larger half of Christians continue to assert that the justice of God may be turned aside by gifts, and, if not by the 'odour of fat, and the sacrifice steaming to heaven,' still by another kind of sacrifice placed upon the altar—by masses for the quick and dead, by dispensations, by building churches, by rites and ceremonies—by the same means which the heathen used, taking other names and shapes. And the indifference of Epicureanism and unbelief is in two ways the parent of superstition, partly because it permits, and also because it creates, a necessity for its development in religious and enthusiastic temperaments. If men cannot have a rational belief, they will have an irrational. And hence the most superstitious countries are also at a certain point of civilization the most unbelieving, and the revolution which takes one direction is quickly followed by a reaction in the other. So we may read 'between the lines' ancient history and philosophy into modern, and modern into ancient. Whether we compare the theory of Greek philosophy with the Christian religion, or the practice of the Gentile world with the practice of the Christian world, they will be found to differ more in words and less in reality than we might have supposed. The greater opposition which is sometimes made between them seems to arise chiefly out of a comparison of the ideal of the one with the practice of the other.

To the errors of superstition and unbelief Plato opposes the simple and natural truth of religion; the best and highest, whether conceived in the form of a person or a principle—as the divine mind or as the idea of good—is believed by him to be the basis of human life. That all things are working together for good to the good and evil to the evil in this or in some other world to which human actions are transferred, is the sum of his faith or theology. Unlike Socrates, he is absolutely free from superstition. Religion and morality are one and indivisible to him. He dislikes the 'heathen mythology,' which, as he significantly remarks, was not tolerated in Crete, and perhaps (for the meaning of his words is not quite clear) at Sparta. He gives no encouragement to individual enthusiasm; 'the establishment of religion could only be the work of a mighty intellect.' Like the Hebrews, he prohibits private rites; for the avoidance of superstition, he would transfer all worship of the Gods to the public temples. He would not have men and women consecrating the accidents of their lives. He trusts to human punishments and not to divine judgments; though he is not unwilling to repeat the old tradition that certain kinds of dishonesty 'prevent a man from having a family.' He considers that the 'ages of faith' have passed away and cannot now be recalled. Yet he is far from wishing to extirpate the sentiment of religion, which he sees to be common to all mankind—Barbarians as well as Hellenes. He remarks that no one passes through life without, sooner or later, experiencing its power. To which we may add the further remark that the greater the irreligion, the more violent has often been the religious reaction.

It is remarkable that Plato's account of mind at the end of the Laws goes beyond Anaxagoras, and beyond himself in any of his previous writings. Aristotle, in a well-known passage (Met.) which is an echo of the Phaedo, remarks on the inconsistency of Anaxagoras in introducing the agency of mind, and yet having recourse to other and inferior, probably material causes. But Plato makes the further criticism, that the error of Anaxagoras consisted, not in denying the universal agency of mind, but in denying the priority, or, as we should say, the eternity of it. Yet in the Timaeus he had himself allowed that God made the world out of pre-existing materials: in the Statesman he says that there were seeds of evil in the world arising out of the remains of a former chaos which could not be got rid of; and even in the Tenth Book of the Laws he has admitted that there are two souls, a good and evil. In the Meno, the Phaedrus, and the Phaedo, he had spoken of the recovery of ideas from a former state of existence. But now he has attained to a clearer point of view: he has discarded these fancies. From meditating on the priority of the human soul to the body, he has learnt the nature of soul absolutely. The power of the best, of which he gave an intimation in the Phaedo and in the Republic, now, as in the Philebus, takes the form of an intelligence or person. He no longer, like Anaxagoras, supposes mind to be introduced at a certain time into the world and to give order to a pre-existing chaos, but to be prior to the chaos, everlasting and evermoving, and the source of order and intelligence in all things. This appears to be the last form of Plato's religious philosophy, which might almost be summed up in the words of Kant, 'the starry heaven above and the moral law within.' Or rather, perhaps, 'the starry heaven above and mind prior to the world.'

IV. The remarks about retail trade, about adulteration, and about mendicity, have a very modern character. Greek social life was more like our own than we are apt to suppose. There was the same division of ranks, the same aristocratic and democratic feeling, and, even in a democracy, the same preference for land and for agricultural pursuits. Plato may be claimed as the first free trader, when he prohibits the imposition of customs on imports and exports, though he was clearly not aware of the importance of the principle which he enunciated. The discredit of retail trade he attributes to the rogueries of traders, and is inclined to believe that if a nobleman would keep a shop, which heaven forbid! retail trade might become honourable. He has hardly lighted upon the true reason, which appears to be the essential distinction between buyers and sellers, the one class being necessarily in some degree dependent on the other. When he proposes to fix prices 'which would allow a moderate gain,' and to regulate trade in several minute particulars, we must remember that this is by no means so absurd in a city consisting of 5040 citizens, in which almost every one would know and become known to everybody else, as in our own vast population. Among ourselves we are very far from allowing every man to charge what he pleases. Of many things the prices are fixed by law. Do we not often hear of wages being adjusted in proportion to the profits of employers? The objection to regulating them by law and thus avoiding the conflicts which continually arise between the buyers and sellers of labour, is not so much the undesirableness as the impossibility of doing so. Wherever free competition is not reconcileable either with the order of society, or, as in the case of adulteration, with common honesty, the government may lawfully interfere. The only question is,—Whether the interference will be effectual, and whether the evil of interference may not be greater than the evil which is prevented by it.

He would prohibit beggars, because in a well-ordered state no good man would be left to starve. This again is a prohibition which might have been easily enforced, for there is no difficulty in maintaining the poor when the population is small. In our own times the difficulty of pauperism is rendered far greater, (1) by the enormous numbers, (2) by the facility of locomotion, (3) by the increasing tenderness for human life and suffering. And the only way of meeting the difficulty seems to be by modern nations subdividing themselves into small bodies having local knowledge and acting together in the spirit of ancient communities (compare Arist. Pol.)

V. Regarded as the framework of a polity the Laws are deemed by Plato to be a decline from the Republic, which is the dream of his earlier years. He nowhere imagines that he has reached a higher point of speculation. He is only descending to the level of human things, and he often returns to his original idea. For the guardians of the Republic, who were the elder citizens, and were all supposed to be philosophers, is now substituted a special body, who are to review and amend the laws, preserving the spirit of the legislator. These are the Nocturnal Council, who, although they are not specially trained in dialectic, are not wholly destitute of it; for they must know the relation of particular virtues to the general principle of virtue. Plato has been arguing throughout the Laws that temperance is higher than courage, peace than war, that the love of both must enter into the character of the good citizen. And at the end the same thought is summed up by him in an abstract form. The true artist or guardian must be able to reduce the many to the one, than which, as he says with an enthusiasm worthy of the Phaedrus or Philebus, 'no more philosophical method was ever devised by the wit of man.' But the sense of unity in difference can only be acquired by study; and Plato does not explain to us the nature of this study, which we may reasonably infer, though there is a remarkable omission of the word, to be akin to the dialectic of the Republic.

The Nocturnal Council is to consist of the priests who have obtained the rewards of virtue, of the ten eldest guardians of the law, and of the director and ex-directors of education; each of whom is to select for approval a younger coadjutor. To this council the 'Spectator,' who is sent to visit foreign countries, has to make his report. It is not an administrative body, but an assembly of sages who are to make legislation their study. Plato is not altogether disinclined to changes in the law where experience shows them to be necessary; but he is also anxious that the original spirit of the constitution should never be lost sight of.

The Laws of Plato contain the latest phase of his philosophy, showing in many respects an advance, and in others a decline, in his views of life and the world. His Theory of Ideas in the next generation passed into one of Numbers, the nature of which we gather chiefly from the Metaphysics of Aristotle. Of the speculative side of this theory there are no traces in the Laws, but doubtless Plato found the practical value which he attributed to arithmetic greatly confirmed by the possibility of applying number and measure to the revolution of the heavens, and to the regulation of human life. In the return to a doctrine of numbers there is a retrogression rather than an advance; for the most barren logical abstraction is of a higher nature than number and figure. Philosophy fades away into the distance; in the Laws it is confined to the members of the Nocturnal Council. The speculative truth which was the food of the guardians in the Republic, is for the majority of the citizens to be superseded by practical virtues. The law, which is the expression of mind written down, takes the place of the living word of the philosopher. (Compare the contrast of Phaedrus, and Laws; also the plays on the words nous, nomos, nou dianome; and the discussion in the Statesman of the difference between the personal rule of a king and the impersonal reign of law.) The State is based on virtue and religion rather than on knowledge; and virtue is no longer identified with knowledge, being of the commoner sort, and spoken of in the sense generally understood. Yet there are many traces of advance as well as retrogression in the Laws of Plato. The attempt to reconcile the ideal with actual life is an advance; to 'have brought philosophy down from heaven to earth,' is a praise which may be claimed for him as well as for his master Socrates. And the members of the Nocturnal Council are to continue students of the 'one in many' and of the nature of God. Education is the last word with which Plato supposes the theory of the Laws to end and the reality to begin.

Plato's increasing appreciation of the difficulties of human affairs, and of the element of chance which so largely influences them, is an indication not of a narrower, but of a maturer mind, which had become more conversant with realities. Nor can we fairly attribute any want of originality to him, because he has borrowed many of his provisions from Sparta and Athens. Laws and institutions grow out of habits and customs; and they have 'better opinion, better confirmation,' if they have come down from antiquity and are not mere literary inventions. Plato would have been the first to acknowledge that the Book of Laws was not the creation of his fancy, but a collection of enactments which had been devised by inspired legislators, like Minos, Lycurgus, and Solon, to meet the actual needs of men, and had been approved by time and experience.

In order to do justice therefore to the design of the work, it is necessary to examine how far it rests on an historical foundation and coincides with the actual laws of Sparta and Athens. The consideration of the historical aspect of the Laws has been reserved for this place. In working out the comparison the writer has been greatly assisted by the excellent essays of C.F. Hermann ('De vestigiis institutorum veterum, imprimis Atticorum, per Platonis de Legibus libros indagandis,' and 'Juris domestici et familiaris apud Platonem in Legibus cum veteris Graeciae inque primis Athenarum institutis comparatio': Marburg, 1836), and by J.B. Telfy's 'Corpus Juris Attici' (Leipzig, 1868).