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
