e possession. But if possession is no proof of use
nor non-possession of non-use, and if you complain of the fact that I
look into the mirror rather than that I possess it, you must go on to
show when and in whose presence I have ever looked into it; for as
things stand, you make it a greater crime for a philosopher to look
upon a mirror than for the uninitiated to gaze upon the mystic emblems
of Ceres.

14. Come now, let me admit that I _have_ looked into it. Is it a crime
to be acquainted with one's own likeness and to carry it with one
wherever one goes ready to hand within the compass of a small mirror,
instead of keeping it hidden away in some one place? Are you ignorant
of the fact that there is nothing more pleasing for a man to look upon
than his own image? At any rate I know that fathers love those sons
most who most resemble themselves, and that public statues are decreed
as a reward for merit that the original may gladden his heart by
looking on them. What else is the significance of statues and
portraits produced by the various arts? You will scarcely maintain the
paradox that what is worthy of admiration when produced by art is
blameworthy when produced by nature; for nature has an even greater
facility and truth than art. Long labour is expended over all the
portraits wrought by the hand of man, yet they never attain to such
truth as is revealed by a mirror. Clay is lacking in life, marble in
colour, painting in solidity, and all three in motion, which is the
most convincing element in a likeness: whereas in a mirror the
reflection of the image is marvellous, for it is not only like its
original, but moves and follows every nod of the man to whom it
belongs; its age always corresponds to that of those who look into the
mirror, from their earliest childhood to their expiring age: it puts
on all the changes brought by the advance of years, shares all the
varying habits of the body, and imitates the shifting expressions of
joy and sorrow that may be seen on the face of one and the same man.
For all we mould in clay or cast in bronze or carve in stone or tint
with encaustic pigments or colour with paint, in a word, every attempt
at artistic representation by the hand of man after a brief lapse of
time loses its truth and becomes motionless and impassive like the
face of a corpse. So far superior to all pictorial art in respect of
truthful representation is the craftsmanship of the smooth mirror and
the splend