PHID. Mysteriously, if not reasonably. It seems by what we have admitted that the magnanimity and greatness of a man is not like that of a Deity; but rather belongs to him as an accident or condition of the present life.

Soc. Why not? Is not all human excellence liable to loss, like life itself, and like all other possessions? Or, may we suppose that a skillful mathematician will be the same in Hades, or that a good rhetorician or dialectician will find these qualities serviceable among the Gods and genii; or that any extraordinary virtue in business, or justice in the affairs of the city, will avail much in Elysium; where there is no business and no city? PHID. The spirit of man, O Socrates, seems to me divine; but this is a new opinion of yours, that justice and the other virtues are among the accidents of her mortal state.

Soc. Consider, and answer me. Does any work of the hands seem to be of much worth?

PHID. No, not even the best!

Soc. But how is it with a just judge; does he take a pride in decrees, when he has lawfully divided an estate, or enforced the payment of certain dues? Or do these acts, and all others, appear contemptible, compared with the power of the spirit?

PHID. They do, indeed!

Soc. The spirit of man, therefore, despises its body, and desires to be provided with a better. But can the universe itself ever satisfy the desire, or exhaust the capacity, of such a spirit?

PHID. If all that you say is true, it follows that the spirit of man is not answerable for wrongs done by it in the body; but if all virtues and all vices are the fruit of this marriage between body and spirit, why are men punished for injustice? for the fault is not of their spirit but of their body?

Soc. Answer me; is punishment of the body or of the spirit?

PHID. Of both.

Soc. Say, then, is death a punishment of the spirit?

PHID. Of the body, rather; for a death of the spirit is as impossible as a birth of the spirit.

Soc. When a person is declared infamous, is that a punishment of the body? PHID. Of the spirit, as I think.

Soc. The shame of infamy is, then, a pain of the immortal spirit; and it follows, that this immortal spirit is a being

susceptible of pain and pleasure. Or is it so?

PHID. Not so, my friend!

Soc. It appears, therefore, that infamy causes no pain to the infamous.

PHID. By Zeus! their pains are terrible; they pine and waste away, as if touched with a pestilence.

Soc. Infamy, it appears, is a pain of the body; but this pain cannot be inflicted upon brutes, because they are devoid of a spirit. The spirit, therefore, not only governs, but punishes the body. Like the votaries of Isis, remorseful spirits wound and destroy their bodies, in honor of justice.

PHID. But if any man is naturally unfitted for the perception of justice, shall he go unpunished as having no conscience?

Soc. Answer me again, that I may answer. If my eye is blind, must I be punished for not seeing, or is this blindness its own sufficient penalty?

PHID. It is a sufficient penalty.

Soc. But if I am blind, shall I be permitted to walk alone, to the danger of my life; or would you have some one to attend and instruct my steps?

PHID. I would have you attended and instructed.

Soc. But if any person, through an inward blindness, lives injuriously, hurting himself and others, shall he, too, be watched and restricted, or shall he be suffered to go at large and commit injuries? PHID. He shall be confined, and cured, if possible, of his blindness.

Soc. But if the disease is incurable, and the unjust man continue to be unjust, and watches opportunities to destroy his keepers, so that all are in terror of their lives because of his incurable stupidity and ferocity, shall he be permitted to live?

PHID. I think it would be unjust if the law should suffer it.

Soc. It seems, therefore, O Phidias, that the blindness of the wicked is its own punishment, as the virtue of the just is its own reward.

PHID. Are we to conclude that punishment belongs altogether to the spirit, and that the spirits of the wicked shall torment them while they are scorched with the fire of Tartarus? or, are the torment and the fire one?

Soc. We have reason to believe that remorse is the true Tartarean fire.

PHID. Why then, if the faults of men are sufficiently punished by remorse,

should other punishments be inflicted on them by the laws?

Soc. Answer me, is not law established for the protection of the innocent?

PHID. It is; and for the punishment of the guilty.

Soc. But the punishment of a crime should be equal to the crime; or should it not?

PHID. It should.

Soc. Say, then, if I am willing to endure the penalty of a crime for the pleasure of injuring my neighbor, whether the penalty would be of the least avail.

PHID. It would be of no avail; and, on reflection, I think it would be impossible to inflict equal penalties. If it happens, for example, that a thief robs me of my purse, he must be punished by a fine; but if the robber has no property he cannot pay the fine, and will therefore escape free.

Soc. If the laws, O Phidias, are established for the punishment of crime rather than for the protection of the just and innocent, they are miserably contrived, and fail altogether of their purpose. But if we suppose them established for protection, and not for punishment, it seems possible to make them perfectly just. Let us therefore give over the souls and bodies of the wicked, in this life and in the next, to conscience and the fire of Tartarus, as is just; for we know that it is impossible for a mortal to punish adequately; and that if any man attempts it, he is sure to commit injustice. But if the law-maker aims only to protect the helpless, and secure each man in his right, he will have no difficulty in determining what ought to be done with robbers and murderers, or with those who commit crimes against the state. Nor are law-makers to be embarrassed with any sophistical subtleties regarding the nature of the souls, or whether men are, or are not, to blame for the crimes they commit. Whatever danger arises, whether from robbers or neighboring enemies, from sedition or natural calamities, they must provide against it, endeavoring, by wisdom and the utmost vigilance, to insure every one in the enjoyment of what is justly his own. If a robber is mutilated or beaten, it is to deter him and others from a repetition of the wrong; and if a murderer is deprived of his life, it is for the safety of the innocent, and not for the punishment of the guilty. Nor need the lawgiver inquire whether spirit or body is more to blame; when he

knows that by the pains of the body, and the loss of its liberty, the just are protected, and the unjust prevented. If any are ready to excuse their crime with this plea, that being made evil by nature they are blameless, and cannot justly suffer penalties, the legislator may answer, that he intends not punishment but protection; that punishment belongs to God alone; but that if the just and the innocent are injured, those who injure them, or slay them, must be prevented from a repetition of the crime; even, if that be necessary, by their death. From the robber and the wild beast alike, the law protects us: making no inquiry into the nature of soul and body, or whether men are to blame for a naturally bad disposition; but asking only whether the criminal is likely to repeat his crime; and if it appears that he is bad and dangerous, he is prevented by imprisonment or banishment; or, if necessary, by death.

If the blame of evil is thrown altogether upon the body, no man will be any the less fearful of the pains which follow iniquity, the diseases of lust, the shame of vice, the anguish of remorse, and the insufferable anger of the Gods. For, as it is impossible to act, so it is impossible to suffer, without a body. If we imagine a future condition of the spirit, we imagine her in another body; nor is it possible to conceive her otherwise than as capable, through a bodily existence, both of happiness and misery. We think of this body as of a gift of Heaven to the spirit, that it may not only be, but may also EXIST; in other words, that it may be capable of happiness and misery. The bodies which the spirit animates were given to it in the beginning. On each of them certain energies were conferred, to be the causes of life and death, of good and evil. To have eternal existence is the gift of the spirit, and she imparts this, in a manner, to the body-lengthening its life in time, and extending it over space, by the labors of glory and wisdom. The elected spirit passes continually toward a better life, ascending by steps, and animating at each step a better and more powerful body.

PHID. It is your custom, Socrates, to advance in this manner from the known to the unknown. But we have forgotten this science of expression, of which we just now inquired, whether there could be such a science. I am satisfied that the body must express all the energies; for, if it did not, how should we know

analysis of Pericles, and ended with declaring him a God.

PHID. How did the people take it, when he came to the apotheosis?

Soc. They applauded; and some said they thought better of Pericles than of Zeus, since the God had sent a famine upon Attica, but the man had relieved it. PHID. A fine conception of Zeus, indeed! My statue of the God is far nobler than any mortal.

Soc. Perhaps so, in the form; but for the substance-a worm in flesh is nobler than a God in the stone. Pericles governs by the force of his spirit, not by the beauty of his body.

PHID. I am persuaded, Socrates, in regard to this science, that it is not only a possible, but a natural and lawful part of knowledge: nor, without some degree of it, could I myself compose a statue or a picture. The Greek statuaries excel all others, because they have a quick apprehension of the marks of character in men, and have the art to represent them under the appearances of beauty; but beauty is easily attained, expression not easily. To combine both as I have done, is immensely difficult.

Soc. The Egyptians, who, as you know, observe everything, have a theory, that men's characters may be known from their resemblance to brutes. They compare a coxcomb to a peacock, a fool to an ass, a glutton to a hog; as though the same power impelled both. What think you of that?

PHID. As of the other, that it is true. What could produce the strut of a peacock other than the soul of a peacock? or the malice of a wolf other than the soul of a wolf?

Soc. Men, therefore, are bears, wolves and asses to each other?

PHID. Yes, when they cease to be men. Soc. I imagine that a power of representing these marks of brutality in the human figure might be useful to a statuary. A smatterer would perpetually injure both himself and others, by affecting to see deeply into men when such penetration is uncalled for. Every art and science has its place and its use. To us, at this moment, a knowledge of physic or astronomy would avail nothing; for we are neither pedants nor sophists. But if we were at sea or sick, they would be serviceable. If the characteristic of a just or wise man is, that he does all things suitably to the occasion, that of a fool is to go about thrusting in his acts

and opinions at the wrong time and place. We say that all things are excellent in their order; but it seems to me that the place and time for using physiognomical art, are easily known by a person of the least discretion. The artist must employ it in studying human faces, or modeling statues in clay. The master may use it, when he purchases a slave or hires a servant.

PHID. You begin to talk of this art as though it were founded in nature and necessity.

Soc. I confess to a belief in its possibility, but not to a true knowledge of it. PHID. Say, then, how this knowledge may be acquired.

Soc. When any person, with an experience in the nature of things, practices accordingly, we say that he has a rule; a number of rules towards one end or purpose constitute an art; and he who can apply rules is equally an artist, whether he originated or learned them. To originate, or to have the power of originating, rules, is named science or invention. It is necessary, therefore, that the science of the marks of character should be invented, and reduced to rules, before it can sustain an art.

PHID. How would you begin to invent such a science?

Soc. I am not addicted, O Phidias, to the invention of sciences, but desire rather to receive them from others; that I may continue, uninterruptedly, in meditation and conversation. Nevertheless, if it is agreeable, I will say what seems fit to be said.

PHID. Say on.

Soc. First, then, we must observe and separate the actions proper to men and brutes, assigning each kind its proper actions, distinguishing the superior from the inferior, and naming each by its common and proper name. Among these, the actions of instinct will rank lowestfor they are common to all-and the actions of reason highest, for they are proper to man. But there is a kind of action, intermediate between reason and instinct, which is common to man with some animals. Of this kind are all impulses of passion, love, cunning, fear, mirth, and pure intelligence. These, let us name by the Intelligences or Powers to which they belong.

The acts of Reason are either in the gesture and carriage of the body, in the nobler expressions of countenance, in the conduct of affairs, the administration of

laws, and all that regards equally the future and the past. The acts of the Intelligences, on the contrary, are transient and impulsive. They vary with the condition of the actor. The same animal may be now in rage, and now in love, with the same object. All the Intelligences are of a nature which enables them to act in the absence of their objects. Love, for example, is powerful even in the absence of the thing loved.

But for those instincts which impel to sensuous acts, they require an immediate presence of the object, and have no force in its absence. Light has no power with the closed eye, nor in silence is there any effect of sound. These, then, are the acts of sensuous energies, which require an internal or external sensation to bring them into action.

Having assembled the actions proper to instinct under their several energies, and those of the intelligences under theirs, I would then consider with the utmost care, the actions of reason, which it seems proper to name divine. These are, those of justice, of religion, of honor, ambition, faith, and humaneness; as they are seen in government, the care of a household, worship, and the liberal arts; not forgetting the occupations of trade and manufacture-for these must be regarded as perfectly rational. When the energies of reason are known, and severally named, they may be elegantly arranged as the governors of the intelligences. Thus, over cunning and prudence we may assign justice to be the governor; over love and anger, honor; over the sciences and liberal arts, obedience, or reverence for the best.

In like manner I would place the intelligences, love, passion, cunning, intellect and fancy, to reign over the several groups of instincts. Having in this manner effected a perfect order and subordination of the energies, all human actions would fall into a harmony. The ways of God would then appear reasonable and just. Any imperfection of character might then be assigned to its proper cause; and we should say of this and that character, not that it is intrinsically bad, but that certain faculties or energies are feeble or imperfect in it-that it is deficient, for example, in the quality of anger, but has an abundant prudence, which is better, and less barbarous, than to call it "poltroon." And then, if any such characters should happen to exert a philosophy of their own, leaving anger out of their system,

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we should know how to account for the omission.

PHID. None but a lover of true wisdom would be able to complete a system of this nature.

Soc. Though it might need such an one to invent it, the simplest might be made to understand it, once invented. Am I wrong in thinking so?

PHID. You seem to me, O Socrates, to be mistaken in judging that any but a true lover of wisdom could even understand this system.

Soc. Let it be so everything that is useful is difficult. Be it supposed that some one more fortunate or more laborious than others, has invented a true system of all the powers which govern the body of a man: he is now in a condition to judge of the marks of these powers. For if he did not know the power, how could he know the marks by which it is to be known? Observing each until he has a perfect knowledge of it and knows its mark, he will presently recognize a certain harmony of features or marks, contributing to the beauty of the body. Rectitude will appear in a firmness and perpendicularity of the whole figurevanity in a toss or lolling of the headobedience, in a reverent inclination of itcruelty, in a cold and slow-moving eye

sensuality in all its proper grossness. Thus, the actions of the man will have given an idea of the powers which control him; and the knowledge of these powers will enable a perfect determination of their proper features. By excellent combinations of these features, every degree of beauty, force and expression may be given to the work of the statuary.

PHID. It shall be my prayer to the Muses, O friend, that some one may invent, happily, the science of this art, while I am yet alive. I can think of nothing that carries with it a greater promise of utility, and that, too, not for me only, or those who work in ivory or brass, but for poets and orators, for teachers of youth, and ministers of the Gods.

Soc. Say, then, Phidias, in what manner you think it may be made profitable.

PHID. I would have the orators know what power they address-whether the reason or the passion, the vanity or the justice, of the people. At present, they imagine that the people are incapable of justice, and seldom venture to address that power. Our new science would convince them that every man is more or less ca