The imagery and illustrations are poor in themselves, and are not assisted by the surrounding phraseology. We have seen how in the Republic, and in the earlier dialogues, figures of speech such as “the wave,” “the drone,” “the chase,” “the bride,” appear and reappear at intervals. Notes are struck which are repeated from time to time, as in a strain of music. There is none of this subtle art in the Laws. The illustrations, such as the two kinds of doctors (IV 720 C), “the three kinds of funerals” (IV 719 D), the fear potion (I 647 E), the puppet (I 644 D), the painter leaving a successor to restore his picture (VI 769), the “person stopping to consider where three ways meet” (VII 799 C), the “old laws about water of which he will not divert the course” (VIII 844 A), can hardly be said to do much credit to Plato’s invention. The citations from the poets have lost that fanciful character which gave them their charm in the earlier dialogues. We are tired of images taken from the arts of navigation, or archery, or weaving, or painting, or medicine, or music. Yet the comparisons of life to a tragedy (VII 817), or of the working of mind to the revolution of the self-moved (X 897), or of the aged parent to the image of a God dwelling in the house (XI 931), or the reflection that “man is made to be the plaything of God, and that this rightly considered is the best of him” (VII 803 C), have great beauty.
2. The clumsiness of the style is exhibited in frequent mannerisms and repetitions. The perfection of the Platonic dialogue consists in the accuracy with which the question and answer are fitted into one another, and the regularity with which the steps of the argument succeed one another. This finish of style is no longer discernible in the Laws. There is a want of variety in the answers; nothing can be drawn out of the respondents but “Yes” or “No,” “True,” “To be sure,” etc.; the insipid forms, “What do you mean?” “To what are you referring?” are constantly returning. Again and again the speaker is charged, or charges himself, with obscurity; and he repeats again and again that he will explain his views more clearly. The process of thought which should be latent in the mind of the writer appears on the surface (IV 719 A, 713 B). In several passages the Athenian praises himself in the most unblushing manner, very unlike the irony of the earlier dialogues, as when he declares that “the laws are a divine work given by some inspiration of the Gods,” and that “youth should commit them to memory instead of the compositions of the poets” (VII 811). The prosopopoeia which is adopted by Plato in the “Protagoras” and other dialogues is repeated until we grow weary of it. The legislator is always addressing the speakers or the youth of the state, and the speakers are constantly making addresses to the legislator. A tendency to a paradoxical manner of statement is also observable. “We must have drinking” (I 646 B), “we must have a virtuous tyrant” (IV 710 C)—this is too much for the duller wits of the Lacedaemonian and Cretan, who at first start back in surprise. More than in any other writing of Plato the tone is hortatory; the laws are sermons as well as laws; they are considered to have a religious sanction, and to rest upon a religious sentiment in the mind of the citizens. The words of the Athenian are attributed to the Lacedaemonian and Cretan, who are supposed to have made them their own, after the manner of the earlier dialogues. Resumptions of subjects which have been half disposed of in a previous passage constantly occur (VII 796 E; XII 956): the arrangement has neither the clearness of art nor the freedom of nature. Irrelevant remarks are made here and there, or illustrations used which are not properly fitted in. The dialogue is generally weak and laboured, and is in the later books fairly given up, apparently, because unsuited to the subject of the work. The long speeches or sermons of the Athenian, often extending over several pages, have never the grace and harmony which are exhibited in the earlier dialogues. For Plato is incapable of sustained composition; his genius is dramatic rather than oratorical; he can converse, but he cannot make a speech. Even the “Timaeus,” which is one of his most finished works, is full of abrupt transitions. There is the same kind of difference between the dialogue and the continuous discourse of Plato as between the narrative and speeches of Thucydides.
3. The perfection of style is variety in unity, freedom, ease, clearness, the power of saying anything, and of striking any note in the scale of human feelings without impropriety; and such is the divine gift of language possessed by Plato in the “Symposium” and “Phaedrus.” From this there are many fallings-off in the Laws: first, in the structure of the sentences, which are rhythmical and monotonous—the formal and sophistical manner of the age is superseding the natural genius of Plato: secondly, many of them are of enormous length, and the latter end often forgets the beginning of them—they seem never to have received the second thoughts of the author; either the emphasis is wrongly placed, or there is a want of point in a clause; or an absolute case occurs which is not properly separated from the rest of the sentence; or words are aggregated in a manner which fails to show their relation to one another; or the connecting particles are omitted at the beginning of sentences; the uses of the relative and antecedent are more indistinct, the changes of person and number more frequent, examples of pleonasm, tautology, and periphrasis, antitheses of positive and negative, false emphasis, and other affectations, are more numerous than in the other writings of Plato; there is also a more common and sometimes unmeaning use of qualifying formulae, ὡς ἔπος εἰπεῖν, κατὰ δύναμιν, and of double expressions, πάντῃ πάντως, οὐδαμῆ οὐδαμῶς, ὅπως καὶ ὅπῃ—these are too numerous to be attributed to errors in the text; again, there is an overcurious adjustment of verb and participle, noun and epithet, and other artificial forms of cadence and expression take the place of natural variety: thirdly, the absence of metaphorical language is remarkable—the style is not devoid of ornament, but the ornament is of a debased rhetorical kind, patched on to instead of growing out of the subject; there is a great command of words, and a laboured use of them; forced attempts at metaphor occur in several passages—e.g. VIII 844 A, παροχετεύειν λόγοις; IX 858 B, τὰ μὲν ὡς τιθέμενα τὰ δ’ ὡς παρατιθέμενα; VI 773 D, οἶνος κολαζόμενος ὑπὸ νήφοντος ἑτέρου θεοῦ; the plays on the word νόμος=νοῦ διανομὴ, IV 714 A, ᾠδὴ ἑτέρα, III 700 B: fourthly, there is a foolish extravagance of language in other passages—“the swinish ignorance of arithmetic,” VII 819 D; “the justice and suitableness of the discourse on laws,” VII 811 C following; overemphasis at IX 861 D; “best of Greeks,” VII 820 B, said of all the Greeks, and the like: fifthly, poor and insipid illustrations are also common, e.g. I 638 C, 639 A, II 644 E: sixthly, we may observe an excessive use of climax and hyperbole, VII 808 A, αἰσχρὸν λέγειν χρὴ πρὸς αὐτοὺς δοῦλόν τε καὶ δούλην καὶ παῖδα καὶ εἴ πως οἷόν τε ὅλην τὴν οἰκίαν: I 636 B, δοκεῖ τοῦτο τὸ ἐπιτήδευμα κατὰ φύσιν τὰς περὶ τὰ ἀφροδίσια ἡδονὰς οὐ μόνον ἀνθρώπων ἀλλὰ καὶ θηρίων διεφθαρκέναι.
4. The peculiarities in the use of words which occur in the Laws have been collected by Zeller (Platonische Studien, p. 85) and Stallbaum (Platonis Leges et Epinomis vol. II p. LVII): first, in the use of nouns, such as ἀλλοδημία, ἀπενιαύτησις, γλυκυθυμία, διαθετήρ, θρασυξενία, κόρος, μεγαλόνοια, παιδουργία: secondly, in the use of adjectives, such as ἀΐστωρ, βιοδότης, ἐχθοδοπός, ἠΐθεος, χρόνιος, and of adverbs, such as ἀνιδιτί, ἀνατεί, νηποινεί: thirdly, in the use of verbs, such as ἀθύρειν, ἀΐσσειν (ἀΐξειεν εἰπεῖν, IV 709 A), εὐθημονεῖσθαι, παραποδίζεσθαι, σέβειν, τημελεῖν, τητᾶν. These words however, as Stallbaum remarks, are formed according to analogy, and nearly all of them have the support of some poetical or other authority.
Zeller and Stallbaum have also collected forms of words in the Laws, differing from the forms of the same words which occur in other places: e.g. βλάβος for βλάβη, ἄβιος for ἀβίωτος, ἀχάριστος for ἄχαρις, δούλειος for δουλικός, παίδειος for παιδικός, ἐξαγριῶ for ἐξαγριαίνω, ἱλεοῦμαι for ἱλάσκομαι, and the Ionic word σωφρονιστύς, meaning “correction.” Zeller has noted a fondness for substantives ending in -μα and -σις, such as, γεώργημα, διάπαυμα, ἐπιθύμημα, ζημίωμα, κωμῴδημα, ὁμίλημα; βλάψις, λοιδόρησις, παράγγελσις, and others; also a use of substantives in the plural, which are commonly found only in the singular, μανίαι, ἀθεότητες, φθόνοι, φόβοι, φύσεις; also, a peculiar use of prepositions in composition, as in ἐνείργω, ἀποβλάπτω, διανομοθετέω, διείρηται, διευλαβεῖσθαι, and other words; also, a frequent occurrence of the Ionic datives plural in -αισι and -οισι, perhaps used for the sake of giving an ancient or archaic effect.
To these peculiarities of words he has added a list of peculiar expressions and constructions. Among the most characteristic are the following: VIII 841 D, ἄθυτα παλλακῶν σπέρματα; IX 855 C, ἄμορφοι ἕδραι; III 690 D, ὅσα ἀξιώματα πρὸς ἄρχοντας; VI 744 B, οἱ κατὰ πόλιν καιροί; μῦθος, used in several places of “the discourse about laws”; and connected with this the frequent use of παραμύθιον and παραμυθεῖσθαι in the general sense of “address,” “addressing”; VII 823 E, αἱμύλος ἔρως; XII 960 B, ἄταφοι πράξεις; VI 752 A, μῦθος ἀκέφαλος; VI 775 D, ἶθος εὐθύπορον. He remarks also on the frequent employment of the abstract for the concrete; e.g. ὑπηρεσία for ὑπηρέται, φυγαί for φυγάδες, μηχαναί in the sense of “contrivers,” δουλεία for δοῦλοι, βασιλεῖαι for βασιλεῖς, μαινόμενα κηδεύματα for γυναῖκα μαινομένην; ἡ χρεία τῶν παίδων in the sense of “indigent children,” and παίδων ἱκανότης; τὸ ἔθος τῆς ἀπειρίας for ἡ εἰωθυῖα ἀπειρία; κυπαρίττων ὕψη τε καὶ κάλλη θαυμάσια for κυπάριττοι μάλα ὑψηλαὶ καὶ καλαί. He further notes some curious uses of the genitive case, e.g. φιλίας ὁμολογίαι, μανίαι ὀργῆς, λαιμαργίαι ἡδονῆς, χειμώνων ἀνυποδησίαι, ἀνόσιοι πληγῶν τόλμαι; and of the dative, ὁμιλίαι ἐχθροῖς, νομοθεσίαι ἐπιτρόποις; and also some rather uncommon periphrases, θρέμματα Νείλου, ξυγγεννήτωρ τέκνων for ἄλοχος, Μούσης λέξις or ποίησις, ζωγράφων παῖδες, ἀνθρώπων σπέρματα and the like; the fondness for particles of limitation, especially τις and γε, σύν τισι χάρισι, τοῖς γε δυναμένοις and the like; the pleonastic use of τανῦν, of ὡς, of ὡς ἔπος εἰπεῖν, of ἑκάστοτε; and the periphrastic use of the preposition περί. Lastly, he observes the tendency to hyperbata or transpositions of words, and to rhythmical uniformity as well as grammatical irregularity in the structure of the sentences.
For nearly all the expressions which are adduced by Zeller as arguments against the genuineness of the Laws, Stallbaum finds some sort of authority. There is no real ground for doubting that the work was written by Plato, merely because several words occur in it which are not found in his other writings. An imitator may preserve the usual phraseology of a writer better than he would himself. But, on the other hand, the fact that authorities may be quoted in support of most of these uses of words, does not show that the diction is not peculiar. Several of them seem to be poetical or dialectical, and exhibit an attempt to enlarge the limits of Greek prose by the introduction of Homeric and tragic expressions. Most of them do not appear to have retained any hold on the later language of Greece. Like several experiments in language of the writers of the Elizabethan age, they were afterwards lost; and though occasionally found in Plutarch and imitators of Plato, they have not been accepted by Aristotle or passed into the common dialect of Greece.
5. Unequal as the Laws are in style, they contain a few passages which are very grand and noble. For example, the address to the poets at VII 817: “Best of strangers, we also are poets of the best and noblest tragedy; for our whole state is an imitation of the best and noblest life, which we affirm to be indeed the very truth of tragedy.” Or again, the sight of young men and maidens in friendly intercourse with one another, suggesting the dangers to which youth is liable from the violence of passion (VIII 835–841); or the eloquent denunciation of unnatural lusts in the same passage; or the charming thought that the best legislator “orders war for the sake of peace and not peace for the sake of war” (I 628 E); or the pleasant allusion, “O Athenian—inhabitant of Attica, I will not say, for you seem to me worthy to be named after the Goddess Athene because you go back to first principles” (I 626 D); or the pithy saying, “Many a victory has been and will be suicidal to the victors, but education is never suicidal” (I 641 C); or the fine expression that “the walls of a city should be allowed to sleep in the earth, and that we should not attempt to disinter them” (VI 778 D); or the remark that “God is the measure of all things in a sense far higher than any man can be” (IV 716 C); or that “a man should be from the first a partaker of the truth, that he may live a true man as long as possible” (V 730 C); or the principle repeatedly laid down, that “the sins of the fathers are not to be visited on the children” e.g. IX 856 C; or the description of the funeral rites of those priestly sages who depart in innocence (XII 947 B, following); or the noble sentiment, that we should do more justice to slaves than to equals (VI 777 D); or the curious observation, founded, perhaps, on his own experience, that there are a few “divine men in every state however corrupt, whose conversation is of inestimable value” (XII 951 B); or the acute remark, that public opinion is to be respected, because the judgments of mankind about virtue are better than their practice (XII 950 B); or the deep religious and also modern feeling which pervades the tenth book (whatever may be thought of the arguments); the sense of the duty of living as a part of a whole, and in dependence on the will of God (X 903 D), who takes care of the least things as well as the greatest (X 900 C); and the picture of parents praying for their children (X 887 D, following)—not as we may say, slightly altering the words of Plato, as if there were no truth or reality in the Gentile religions, but as if there were the greatest—are very striking to us. We must remember that the Laws, unlike the Republic, do not exhibit an ideal state, but are supposed to be on the level of human motives and feelings; they are also on the level of the popular religion, though elevated and purified: hence there is an attempt made to show that the pleasant is also just. But, on the other hand, the priority of the soul to the body, and of God to the soul, is always insisted upon as the true incentive to virtue; especially with great force and eloquence at the commencement of Book V. And the work of legislation is carried back to the first principles of morals (I 630 E).
6. No other writing of Plato shows so profound an insight into the world and into human nature as the Laws. That “cities will never cease from ill until they are better governed,” is the text of the Laws as well as of the “Statesman” and Republic. The principle that the balance of power preserves states (III 691, 692); the reflection that no one ever passed his whole life in disbelief of the Gods (X 888 C); the remark that the characters of men are best seen in convivial intercourse (I 649); the observation that the people must be allowed to share not only in the government, but in the administration of justice (VI 768 A, following); the desire to make laws, not with a view to courage only, but to all virtue (I 630 D); the clear perception that education begins with birth, or even, as he would say, before birth (VII 789 A); the attempt to purify religion; the modern reflections, that punishment is not vindictive (IX 854 D), and that limits must be set to the power of bequest (XI 922, 923); the impossibility of undeceiving the victims of quacks and jugglers (XI 933 A); the provision for water (VI 761 B), and for other requirements of health (VI 761), and for concealing the bodies of the dead with as little hurt as possible to the living (XII 958 D, E); above all, perhaps, the distinct consciousness that under the actual circumstances of mankind the ideal cannot be carried out (V 739 B, 746 B), and yet may be a guiding principle—will appear to us, if we remember that we are still in the dawn of politics, to show a great depth of political wisdom.
IV. The Laws of Plato contain numerous passages which closely resemble other passages in his writings. And at first sight a suspicion arises that the repetition shows the unequal hand of the imitator. For why should a writer say over again, in a more imperfect form, what he had already said in his most finished style and manner? And yet it may be urged on the other side that an author whose original powers are beginning to decay will be very liable to repeat himself, as in conversation, so in books. He may have forgotten what he had written before; he may be unconscious of the decline of his own powers. Hence arises a question of great interest, bearing on the genuineness of ancient writers. Is there any criterion by which we can distinguish the genuine resemblance from the spurious, or, in other words, the repetition of a thought or passage by an author himself from the appropriation of it by another? The question has, perhaps, never been fully discussed; and, though a real one, does not admit of a precise answer. A few general considerations on the subject may be offered:—
(a) Is the difference such as might be expected to arise at different times of life or under different circumstances?—There would be nothing surprising in a writer, as he grew older, losing something of his own originality, and falling more and more under the spirit of his age. “What a genius I had when I wrote that book!” was the pathetic exclamation of a famous English author, when in old age he chanced to take up one of his early works. There would be nothing surprising again in his losing somewhat of his powers of expression, and becoming less capable of framing language into a harmonious whole. There would also be a strong presumption that if the variation of style was uniform, it was attributable to some natural cause, and not to the arts of the imitator. The inferiority might be the result of feebleness and of want of activity of mind. But the natural weakness of a great author would commonly be different from the artificial weakness of an imitator; it would be continuous and uniform. The latter would be apt to fill his work with irregular patches, sometimes taken verbally from the writings of the author whom he personated, but rarely acquiring his spirit. His imitation would be obvious, irregular, superficial. The patches of purple would be easily detected among his threadbare and tattered garments. He would rarely take the pains to put the same thought into other words. There were many forgeries in English literature which attained a considerable degree of success 50 or 100 years ago; but it is doubtful whether attempts such as these could now escape detection, if there were any writings of the same author or of the same age to be compared with them. And ancient forgers were much less skilful than modern; they were far from being masters in the art of deception, and had rarely any motive for being so.
(b) But, secondly, the imitator will commonly be least capable of understanding or imitating that part of a great writer which is most characteristic of him. In every man’s writings there is something like himself and unlike others, which gives individuality. To appreciate this latent quality would require a kindred mind, and minute study and observation. There are a class of similarities which may be called undesigned coincidences, which are so remote as to be incapable of being borrowed from one another, and yet, when they are compared, find a natural explanation in their being the work of the same mind. The imitator might copy the turns of style—he might repeat images or illustrations, but he could not enter into the inner circle of Platonic philosophy. He would understand that part of it which became popular in the next generation, as for example, the doctrine of ideas or of numbers: he might approve of communism. But the higher flights of Plato about the science of dialectic, or the unity of virtue, or a person who is above the law, would be unintelligible to him.
(c) The argument from imitation assumes a different character when the supposed imitations are associated with other passages having the impress of original genius. The strength of the argument from undesigned coincidences of style is much increased when they are found side by side with thoughts and expressions which can only have come from a great original writer. The great excellence, not only of the whole, but even of the parts of writings, is a strong proof of their genuineness—for although the great writer may fall below, the forger or imitator cannot rise much above himself. Whether we can attribute the worst parts of a work to a forger and the best to a great writer—as for example, in the case of some of Shakespeare’s plays—depends upon the probability that they have been interpolated, or have been the joint work of two writers; and this can only be established either by express evidence or by a comparison of other writings of the same class. If the interpolation or double authorship of Greek writings in the time of Plato could be shown to be common, then a question, perhaps insoluble, would arise, not whether the whole, but whether parts of the Platonic dialogues are genuine, and, if parts only, which parts. Hebrew prophecies and Homeric poems and Laws of Manu may have grown together in early times, but there is no reason to think that any of the dialogues of Plato is the result of a similar process of accumulation. It is therefore rash to say with Oncken (Die Staatslehre des Aristoteles) that the form in which Aristotle knew the Laws of Plato must have been different from that in which they have come down to us.
It must be admitted that these principles are difficult of application. Yet a criticism may be worth making which rests only on probabilities or impressions. Great disputes will arise about the merits of different passages, about what is truly characteristic and original or trivial and borrowed. Many have thought the Laws to be one of the greatest of Platonic writings, while in the judgment of Mr. Grote they hardly rise above the level of the forged epistles. The manner in which a writer would or would not have written at a particular time of life must be acknowledged to be a matter of conjecture. But enough has been said to show that similarities of a certain kind, whether criticism is able to detect them or not, may be such as must be attributed to an original writer, and not to a mere imitator.
(d) Applying these principles to the case of the Laws, we have now to point out that they contain the class of refined or unconscious similarities which are indicative of genuineness. The parallelisms are like the repetitions of favourite thoughts into which everyone is apt to fall unawares in conversation or in writing. They are found in a work which contains many beautiful and remarkable passages, as will be admitted by anyone who refers back to § III 5, 6. We may therefore begin by claiming this presumption in their favour. Such undesigned coincidences, as we may venture to call them, are the following. The conception of justice as the union of temperance, wisdom, courage (Laws I 631 C; Republic IV 433): the latent idea of dialectic implied in the notion of dividing laws after the kinds of virtue (Laws I 630 E); and again (Laws XII 965 C) the approval of the method of looking at one idea gathered from many things, “than which a truer was never discovered by any man” (compare Republic VII 525 A): or again the description of the Laws as parents (Laws IX 859 A; Republic VII 538 D): the assumption that religion has been already settled by the oracle of Delphi (Laws V 738 B; Republic IV 427 B), to which an appeal is also made in special cases (Laws XI 914 A): the notion of the battle with self, a paradox for which Plato in a manner apologizes both in the Laws and the Republic (Laws I 626 E; Republic IV 430 E following): the remark (Laws IX 859 A) that just men, even when they are deformed in body, may still be perfectly beautiful in respect of the excellent justice of their minds (compare Republic III 402 D, E): the argument that ideals are none the worse because they cannot be carried out (Laws V 746 B, following; Republic V 472 D): the near approach to the idea of good in “the principle which is common to all the four virtues,” a truth which the guardians must be compelled to recognize (Laws XII 965 D; compare Republic VII 534 C): or again the recognition by reason of the right pleasure and pain, which had previously been matter of habit (Laws II 653 B; Republic III 402 A): or the blasphemy of saying that the excellency of music is to give pleasure (Laws II 655 D; Republic VI 509 A): again the story of the Sidonian Cadmus (Laws II 663 E), which is a variation of the Phoenician tale of the earthborn men (Republic III 414 C): the comparison of philosophy to a yelping she-dog, both in the Republic and in the Laws (Laws XII 967 D; Republic X 607 C): the remark that no man can practise two trades (Laws VIII 846 D; Republic III 394 E, etc.): or the advantage of the middle condition (Laws V 736 E; Republic IV 421 following): the tendency to speak of principles as moulds or forms; compare the ἐκμαγεῖα of song (Laws VII 800 following), and the τύποι of religion (Republic II 379 following): or the remark (Laws XII 945 E) that “the relaxation of justice makes many cities out of one,” which may be compared with the Republic (Republic IV 422 E): or the description of lawlessness “creeping in little by little in the fashions of music and overturning all things,”—to us a paradox, but to Plato’s mind a fixed idea, which is found in the Laws (III 701 following) as well as in the Republic (IV 424): or the figure of the parts of the human body under which the parts of the state are described (Laws V 739; Republic V 462): the apology for delay and diffuseness, which occurs not unfrequently in the Republic, is carried to an excess in the Laws (I 641 E following; IX 857 E following; compare “Theaetetus” 172 C following): the remarkable thought (Laws X 899 B) that the soul of the sun is better than the sun, agrees with the relation in which the idea of good stands to the sun in the Republic, and with the substitution of mind for the idea of good in the “Philebus” (30 following): the passage about the tragic poets (Laws VII 817 A following) agrees generally with the treatment of them in the Republic, but is more finely conceived, and worked out in a nobler spirit. Some lesser similarities of thought and manner should not be omitted, such as the mention of the thirty years’ old students in the Republic (VII 539 A), and the fifty years’ old choristers in the Laws (II 670 A); or the making of the citizens out of wax (Laws V 746 A) compared with the other image (Republic IX 588); or the number of the tyrant (729), which is nearly equal with the number of days and nights in the year (730), compared with the “slight correction” of the sacred number 5,040, which is divisible by all the numbers from 1 to 12 except 11, and divisible by 11, if two families be deducted; or once more, we may compare the ignorance of solid geometry of which he complains in the Republic (VII 528 B, C) and the puzzle about fractions (VII 525 E) with the difficulty in the Laws about commensurable and incommensurable quantities (Laws VII 819, 820)—and the malicious emphasis on the word γυναίκειος (Laws VII 790 A) with the use of the same word (Republic V 469 D). These and similar passages tend to show that the author of the Republic is also the author of the Laws. They are echoes of the same voice, expressions of the same mind, coincidences too subtle to have been invented by the ingenuity of any imitator. The force of the argument is increased, if we remember that no passage in the Laws is exactly copied—nowhere do five or six words occur together which are found together elsewhere in Plato’s writings.
In other dialogues of Plato, as well as in the Republic, there are to be found parallels with the Laws. Such resemblances, as we might expect, occur chiefly (but not exclusively) in the dialogues which, on other grounds, we may suppose to be of later date. The punishment of evil is to be like evil men (Laws V 728 B), as he says also in the “Theaetetus” (176 E). Compare again the dependence of tragedy and comedy on one another, of which he gives the reason in the Laws (VII 816 D)—“For serious things cannot be understood without laughable, nor opposites at all without opposites, if a man is really to have intelligence of either”; here he puts forward the principle which is the groundwork of the thesis of Socrates in the “Symposium” (223 D), “that the genius of tragedy is the same as that of comedy, and that the writer of comedy ought to be a writer of tragedy also.” There is a truth and right which is above Law (Laws IX 875 C), as we learn also from the “Statesman” (297 A). That men are the possession of the Gods (Laws X 902 C), is a reflection which likewise occurs in the “Phaedo” (62 B). The remark, whether serious or ironical (Laws XII 948 B), that “the sons of the Gods naturally believed in the Gods, because they had the means of knowing about them,” is found in the “Timaeus” (40 D). The reign of Cronos, who is the divine ruler (Laws IV 713 B), is a reminiscence of the “Statesman” (269 A, following). It is remarkable that in the “Sophist” and “Statesman” (“Sophist” 232 E), Plato, speaking in the character of the Eleatic Stranger, has already put on the old man. The madness of the poets, again, is a favourite notion of Plato’s, which occurs also in the Laws (IV 719 C), as well as in the “Phaedrus” (245 A), “Ion,” and elsewhere. There are traces in the Laws (III 685 A, following) of the same desire to base speculation upon history which we find in the “Critias.” Once more, there is a striking parallel with the paradox of the “Gorgias” (472 E, following), that “if you do evil, it is better to be punished than to be unpunished,” in the Laws (II 661 C): “To live having all goods without justice and virtue is the greatest of evils if life be immortal, but not so great if the bad man lives but a short time.”
The point to be considered is whether these are the kind of parallels which would be the work of an imitator. Would a forger have had the wit to select the most peculiar and characteristic thoughts of Plato; would he have caught the spirit of his philosophy; would he, instead of openly borrowing, have half concealed his favourite ideas; would he have formed them into a whole such as the Laws; would he have given another the credit which he might have obtained for himself; would he have remembered and made use of other passages of the Platonic writings and have never deviated into the phraseology of them? Without pressing such arguments as absolutely certain, we must acknowledge that such a comparison affords a new ground of real weight for believing the Laws to be a genuine writing of Plato.
V. The relation of the Republic to the Laws is clearly set forth by Plato in the Laws V 739. The Republic is the best state, the Laws is the best possible under the existing conditions of the Greek world. The Republic is the ideal, in which no man calls anything his own, which may or may not have existed in some remote clime, under the rule of some God, or son of a God (who can say?), but is, at any rate, the pattern of all other states and the exemplar of human life. The Laws distinctly acknowledge what the Republic partly admits, that the ideal is inimitable by us, but that we should “lift up our eyes to the heavens” and try to regulate our lives according to the divine image. The citizens are no longer to have wives and children in common, and are no longer to be under the government of philosophers. But the spirit of communism or communion is to continue among them, though reverence for the sacredness of the family, and respect of children for parents, not promiscuous hymeneals, are now the foundation of the state; the sexes are to be as nearly on an equality as possible; they are to meet at common tables (VII 806 E), and to share warlike pursuits (if the women will consent), and to have a common education. The legislator has taken the place of the philosopher, but a council of elders is retained, who are to fulfil the duties of the legislator when he has passed out of life. The addition of younger persons to this council by co-optation is an improvement on the governing body of the Republic. The scheme of education in the Laws is of a far lower kind than that which Plato had conceived in the Republic. There he would have his rulers trained in all knowledge meeting in the idea of good, of which the different branches of mathematical science are but the handmaidens or ministers; here he treats chiefly of popular education, stopping short with the preliminary sciences—these are to be studied partly with a view to their practical usefulness, which in the Republic he holds cheap, and even more with a view to avoiding impiety, of which in the Republic he says nothing; he touches very lightly on dialectic, which is still to be retained for the rulers. Yet in the Laws there remain traces of the old educational ideas. He is still for banishing the poets (VII 817); and as he finds the works of prose writers equally dangerous, he would substitute for them the study of his own laws (VII 810, 811). He insists strongly on the importance of mathematics as an educational instrument (V 747 A, B). He is no more reconciled to the Greek mythology than in the Republic, though he would rather say nothing about it out of a reverence for antiquity (X 886 D); and he is equally willing to have recourse to fictions, if they have a moral tendency (II 663 D). His thoughts recur to a golden age in which the sanctity of oaths was respected and in which men living nearer the Gods were more disposed to believe in them; but we must legislate for the world as it is, now that the old beliefs have passed away (XII 948 C). Though he is no longer fired with dialectical enthusiasm, he would compel the guardians to “look at one idea gathered from many things,” and to “perceive the principle which is the same in all the four virtues” (XII 965 C). He still recognizes the enormous influence of music, in which every youth is to be trained for three years; and he seems to attribute the existing degeneracy of the Athenian state and the laxity of morals partly to musical innovation, manifested in the unnatural divorce of the instrument and the voice, of the rhythm from the words (II 669 D), and partly to the influence of the mob who ruled at the theatres (III 700 E). He assimilates the education of the two sexes, as far as possible, both in music and gymnastic, and, as in the Republic, he would give to gymnastic a purely military character. In marriage, his object is still to produce the finest children for the state. As in the “Statesman,” he would unite in wedlock dissimilar natures—the passionate with the dull, the courageous with the gentle. And the virtuous tyrant of the “Statesman,” who has no place in the Republic, again appears (IV 709 E). In this, as in all his writings, he has the strongest sense of the degeneracy and incapacity of the rulers of his own time.
In the Laws, the philosophers, if not banished, like the poets, are at least ignored; and religion takes the place of philosophy in the regulation of human life. It must however be remembered that the religion of Plato is coextensive with morality, and is that purified religion and mythology of which he speaks in the second book of the Republic. There is no real discrepancy in the two works. In a practical treatise, he speaks of religion rather than of philosophy; just as he appears to identify virtue with pleasure, and rather seeks to find the common element of the virtues than to maintain his old paradoxical theses that they are one, or that they are identical with knowledge. The dialectic and the idea of good, which even Glaucon in the Republic could not understand, would be out of place in a less ideal work. There may also be a change in his own mind, the purely intellectual aspect of philosophy having a diminishing interest to him in his old age.
Some confusion occurs in the passage in which Plato speaks of the Republic, occasioned by his reference to a third state, which he proposes (D.V.) hereafter to expound (V 739 E). Like many other thoughts in the Laws, the allusion is obscure from not being worked out. Aristotle (Politics IV 1) speaks of a state which is neither the best absolutely, nor the best under existing conditions, but an imaginary state, inferior to either, destitute, as he supposes, of the necessaries of life—apparently such a beginning of primitive society as is described in Laws III. But it is not clear that by this the third state of Plato is intended. It is possible that Plato may have meant by his third state an historical sketch, bearing the same relation to the Laws which the unfinished “Critias” would have borne to the Republic; or he may, perhaps, have intended to describe a state more nearly approximating than the Laws to existing Greek states.
The “Statesman” is a mere fragment when compared with the Laws, yet combining a second interest of dialectic as well as politics, which is wanting in the larger work. Several points of similarity and contrast may be observed between them. In some respects the “Statesman” is even more ideal than the Republic, looking back to a former state of paradisiacal life, in which the Gods ruled over mankind, as the Republic looks forward to a coming kingdom of philosophers. Of this kingdom of Cronos there is also mention in the Laws (IV 713 B). Again, in the “Statesman,” the Eleatic Stranger rises above law to the conception of the living voice of the lawgiver, who is able to provide for individual cases. A similar thought is repeated in the Laws (IX 875 C): “If in the order of nature, and by divine destiny, a man were able to apprehend the truth about these things, he would have no need of laws to rule over him; for there is no law or order above knowledge, nor can mind without impiety be deemed the subject or slave of any, but rather the lord of all.” The union of opposite natures, who form the warp and the woof of the political web, is a favourite thought which occurs in both dialogues (Laws VI 773; “Statesman” 310 E).
The Laws are confessedly a Second-best, an inferior Ideal, to which Plato has recourse, when he finds that the city of Philosophers is no longer “within the horizon of practical politics.” But it is curious to observe that the higher Ideal is always returning (compare Aristotle Politics II 6, § 4), and that he is not much nearer the actual fact, nor more on the level of ordinary life in the Laws than in the Republic. It is also interesting to remark that the new Ideal is always falling away, and that he hardly supposes the one to be more capable of being realized than the other. Human beings are troublesome to manage; and the legislator cannot adapt his enactments to the infinite variety of circumstances; after all he must leave the administration of them to his successors; and though he would have liked to make them as permanent as they are in Egypt, he cannot escape from the necessity of change. At length Plato is obliged to institute a Nocturnal Council which is supposed to retain the mind of the legislator, and of which some of the members are even supposed to go abroad and inspect the institutions of foreign countries, as a foundation for changes in their own. The spirit of such changes, though avoiding the extravagance of a popular assembly, being only so much change as the conservative temper of old members is likely to allow, is nevertheless inconsistent with the fixedness of Egypt which Plato wishes to impress upon Hellenic institutions. He is inconsistent with himself as the truth begins to dawn upon him that “in the execution things for the most part fall short of our conception of them” (Republic V 473 A).
And is not this true of ideals of government in general? We are always disappointed in them. Nothing great can be accomplished in the short space of human life; wherefore also we look forward to another (Republic X 608 C). As we grow old, we are sensible that we have no power actively to pursue our ideals any longer. We have had our opportunity and do not aspire to be more than men: we have received our “wages and are going home.” Neither do we despair of the future of mankind, because we have been able to do so little in comparison of the whole. We look in vain for consistency either in men or things. But we have seen enough of improvement in our own time to justify us in the belief that the world is worth working for and that a good man’s life is not thrown away. Such reflections may help us to bring home to ourselves by inward sympathy the language of Plato in the Laws, and to combine into something like a whole his various and at first sight inconsistent utterances.
VI. The Republic may be described as the Spartan constitution appended to a government of philosophers. But in the Laws an Athenian element is also introduced. Many enactments are taken from the Athenian; the four classes are borrowed from the constitution of Cleisthenes, which Plato regards as the best form of Athenian government (III 698), and the guardians of the law bear a certain resemblance to the archons. In the constitution of the Laws nearly all officers are elected by a vote more or less popular and by lot. But the assembly only exists for the purposes of election, and has no legislative or executive powers. The Nocturnal Council, which is the highest body in the state, has several of the functions of the ancient Athenian Areopagus, after which it appears to be modelled. Life is to wear, as at Athens, a joyous and festive look; there are to be Bacchic choruses, and men of mature age are encouraged in moderate potations. On the other hand, the common meals, the public education, the crypteia are borrowed from Sparta and not from Athens, and the superintendence of private life, which was to be practised by the governors, has also its prototype in Sparta. The extravagant dislike which Plato shows both to a naval power (IV 705–707) and to extreme democracy (III 701) is the reverse of Athenian.
The best-governed Hellenic states traced the origin of their laws to individual lawgivers. These were real persons, though we are uncertain how far they originated or only modified the institutions which are ascribed to them. But the lawgiver, though not a myth, was a fixed idea in the mind of the Greek—as fixed as the Trojan war or the earthborn Cadmus. “This was what Solon meant or said”—was the form in which the Athenian expressed his own conception of right and justice, or argued a disputed point of law. And the constant reference in the Laws of Plato to the lawgiver is altogether in accordance with Greek modes of thinking and speaking.