{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_57126/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_57126","id":"gutenberg_57126","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/57126","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Ancient","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Philosophy, Ancient"],"text":"E-text prepared by Turgut Dincer, Les Galloway, and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made\navailable by Internet Archive (https://archive.org)\n\n\n\nNote: Images of the original pages are available through\n      Internet Archive. See\n      https://archive.org/details/greekphilosoph01benn\n\n\n      Project Gutenberg has the other volume of this work.\n      Volume II: see https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/58224\n\n\nTranscriber\u2019s note:\n\n      Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE GREEK PHILOSOPHERS\nVOL I.\n\n\nTHE GREEK PHILOSOPHERS\n\nby\n\nALFRED WILLIAM BENN\n\n\n \u0395\u1f51\u03c1\u03b7\u03ba\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03bf\u1f56\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u1f70\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03cc\u03c6\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f00\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u1f72\u03c2\n \u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u00b7 \u03c4\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03bf\u1f31 \u03c4\u03c5\u03c7\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03bc\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1f02\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2\n \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03ba\u03ad\u03c8\u03b1\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03ae\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\n                                                            PLOTINUS\n\n Quamquam ab his philosophiam et omnes ingenuas disciplinas habemus:\n sed tamen est aliquid quod nobis non liceat, liceat illis\n                                                            CICERO\n\n\nIn Two Volumes\n\nVOL. I.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLondon\nKegan Paul, Trench, & Co., 1 Paternoster Square\n1882\n\n\n\n\n                       AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED\n\n                                  TO\n\n                               J. B. B.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nA considerable portion of the present work, comprising the whole of the\nfirst volume and the first two chapters of the second, is reprinted\nwith corrections and additions from the _Westminster Review_. The last\nchapter of the second volume has already appeared under a slightly\ndifferent title in _Mind_ for January and April 1882. The chapters\nentitled, \u2018The Sceptics and Eclectics,\u2019 \u2018The Religious Revival,\u2019 and\n\u2018The Spiritualism of Plotinus,\u2019 are now published for the first time.\n\nThe subject of Greek philosophy is so vast that, in England at least,\nit has become customary to deal with it in detached portions rather\nthan as a connected whole. This method has its advantages, but it has\nalso its drawbacks. The critic who singles out some one thinker for\nspecial study is apt to exaggerate the importance of his hero and\nto credit him with the origination of principles which were really\nborrowed from his predecessors. Moreover, the appearance of a new idea\ncan only be made intelligible by tracing the previous tendencies which\nit either continues, combines, or contradicts. In a word, the history\nof philosophy has itself a philosophy which requires that we should go\nbeyond particular phenomena and view them as variously related parts of\na single system.\n\nThe history of Greek philosophy, whether conceived in this\ncomprehensive sense or as an erudite investigation into matters of\ndetail, is a province which the Germans have made peculiarly their own;\nand, among German scholars, Dr. Zeller is the one who has treated it\nwith most success. My obligations to his great work are sufficiently\nshown by the copious references to it which occur throughout the\nfollowing pages. It is in those instances--and they are, unfortunately,\nvery numerous--where our knowledge of particular philosophers and\nof their opinions rests on fragmentary or second-hand information,\nthat I have found his assistance most valuable. This has especially\nbeen the case with reference to the pre-Socratic schools, the minor\nsuccessors of Socrates, the earlier Stoics, the Sceptics, and the later\nPythagoreans. I must, however, guard against the supposition that my\nwork is, in any respect, a popularisation or abridgment of Zeller\u2019s. To\npopularise Zeller would, indeed, be an impertinence, for nothing can\nbe more luminous and interesting than his style and general mode of\nexposition. Nor am I playing the part of a finder to a large telescope;\nfor my point of view by no means coincides with that of the learned\nGerman historian. Thus, while my limits have obliged me to be content\nwith a very summary treatment of many topics which he has discussed\nat length, there are others, and those, in my opinion, not the least\nimportant, to which he has given less space than will be found allotted\nto them here. On several questions, also, I have ventured to controvert\nhis opinions, notably with reference to the Sophists, Socrates,\nAristotle, and Plotinus. My general way of looking at the Greeks\nand their philosophy also differs from his. And the reasons which\nhave led me to follow an independent course in this respect involve\nconsiderations of such interest and importance, that I shall take the\nliberty of specifying them in some detail.\n\nStated briefly, Zeller\u2019s theory of ancient thought is that the Greeks\noriginally lived in harmony with Nature; that the bond was broken by\nphilosophy and particularly by the philosophy of Socrates; that the\ndiscord imperfectly overcome by Plato and Aristotle revealed itself\nonce more in the unreconciled, self-concentrated subjectivity of the\nlater schools; that this hopeless estrangement, after reaching its\nclimax in the mysticism of the Neo-Platonists, led to the complete\ncollapse of independent speculation; and that the creation of a new\nconsciousness by the advent of Christianity and of the Germanic races\nwas necessary in order to the successful resumption of scientific\nenquiry. Zeller was formerly a Hegelian, and it seems to me that he\nstill retains far too much of the Hegelian formalism in his historical\nconstructions. The well-worked antithesis between object and subject,\neven after being revised in a positivist sense, is totally inadequate\nto the burden laid on it by this theory; and if we want really to\nunderstand the causes which first hampered, then arrested, and finally\nparalysed Greek philosophy, we must seek for them in a more concrete\norder of considerations. Zeller, with perfect justice, attributes\nthe failure of Plato and Aristotle to their defective observation of\nNature and their habit of regarding the logical combinations of ideas\nderived from the common use of words as an adequate representative\nof the relations obtaining among things in themselves. But it seems\nan extremely strained and artificial explanation to say that their\nshortcomings in this respect were due to a confusion of the objective\nand the subjective, consequent on the imperfect separation of the\nGreek mind from Nature--a confusion, it is added, which only the\nadvent of a new religion and a new race could overcome.[1] It is\nunfair to make Hellenism as a whole responsible for fallacies which\nmight easily be paralleled in the works of modern metaphysicians;\nand the unfairness will become still more evident when we remember\nthat, after enjoying the benefit of Christianity and Germanism for a\nthousand years, the modern world had still to take its first lessons\nin patience of observation, in accuracy of reasoning, and in sobriety\nof expression from such men as Thucydides and Hippocrates, Polybius,\nArchim\u00eades and Hipparchus. Even had the Greeks as a nation been less\nkeen to distinguish between illusion and reality than their successors\nup to the sixteenth century--a supposition notoriously the reverse of\ntrue--it would still have to be explained why Plato and Aristotle,\nwith their prodigious intellects, went much further astray than their\npredecessors in the study of Nature. And this Zeller\u2019s method does not\nexplain at all.\n\nAgain, I think that Zeller quite misconceives the relation between\nGreek philosophy and Greek life when he attributes the intellectual\ndecline of the post-Aristotelian period, in part at least, to the\nsimultaneous ruin of public spirit and political independence. The\ndegeneracy of poetry and art, of eloquence and history, may perhaps\nbe accounted for in this way, but not the relaxation of philosophical\nactivity. On the contrary, the disappearance of political interests\nwas of all conditions the most favourable to speculation, as witness\nthe Ionians, Democritus, and Aristotle. Had the independence and\npower of the great city-republics been prolonged much further, it\nis probable--as the example of the Sophists and Socrates seems to\nshow--that philosophy would have become still more absorbingly moral\nand practical than it actually became in the Stoic, Epicurean, and\nSceptical schools. And theoretical studies did, in fact, receive\na great impulse from the Macedonian conquest, a large fund of\nintellectual energy being diverted from public affairs to the pursuit\nof knowledge, only it took the direction of positive science rather\nthan of general speculation.[2]\n\nThe cause which first arrested and finally destroyed the free movement\nof Greek thought was not any intrinsic limitation or corruption of the\nGreek genius, but the ever-increasing preponderance of two interests,\nboth tending, although in different ways and different degrees, to\nstrengthen the principle of authority and to enfeeble the principle of\nreason. One was the theological interest, the other was the scholastic\ninterest. The former was the more conspicuous and the more mischievous\nof the two. From the persecution of Anaxagoras to the prohibition\nof philosophical teaching by Justinian, we may trace the rise and\nspread of a reaction towards superstition, sometimes advancing and\nsometimes receding, but, on the whole, gaining ground from age to age,\nuntil from the noontide splendour of Pericles we pass to that long\nnight which stretches in almost impenetrable darkness down to the\nred and stormy daybreak of the Crusades. And it was a reaction which\nextended through all classes, including the philosophers themselves.\nIt seems to me that where the Athenian school, from Socrates on, fall\nshort of their predecessors, as in some points they unquestionably\ndo, their inferiority is largely due to this cause. Its influence\nis very perceptible in weakening the speculative energies of those\nwho stand at the greatest distance from the popular beliefs. It was\nbecause dislike for theology occupied so large a place in the thoughts\nof Epicurus and his disciples, that they valued science only as a\nrefutation of its teaching, instead of regarding it simply as an\nobstacle to be removed from the path of enquiry. More than this; they\nbecame infected with the spirit of that against which they fought, and\ntheir absolute indifference to truth was the shadow which it cast on\ntheir minds.\n\nThe theological interest and the scholastic interest, though not\nnecessarily associated, have, as already observed, a point of contact\nin their common exaltation of authority. Thus, for our present purpose\nthey may be classified under the more general notion of traditionalism.\nBy this term I understand a disposition to accept as true opinions\nreceived either by the mass of mankind or by the best accredited\nteachers, and to throw these opinions into a form adapted for easy\ntransmission to others. In this sense, traditionalism is Janus-faced,\nlooking on one side to the past and on the other to the future. Now\nphilosophy could only gain general acceptance by becoming a tradition.\nFor a long time the Greek thinkers busied themselves almost exclusively\nwith the discovery of truth, remaining comparatively indifferent to\nits diffusion. As Plato says, they went their own way without caring\nwhether they took us along with them or not.[3] And it was at this\nperiod that the most valuable speculative ideas were first originated.\nAt last a strong desire arose among the higher classes to profit by the\nresults of the new learning, and a class of men came into existence\nwhose profession was to gratify this desire. But the Sophists, as\nthey were called, soon found that lessons in the art of life were\nmore highly appreciated and more liberally rewarded than lessons in\nthe constitution of Nature. Accordingly, with the facile ingenuity of\nGreeks, they set to work proving, first that Nature could not be known,\nand finally that there was no such thing as Nature at all. The real\nphilosophers were driven to secure their position by a change of front.\nThey became teachers themselves, disguising their lessons, however,\nunder the form of a search after truth undertaken conjointly with their\nfriends, who, of course, were not expected to pay for the privilege\nof giving their assistance, and giving it for so admirable a purpose.\nIn this co-operative system, the person who led the conversation was\nparticularly careful to show that his conclusions followed directly\nfrom the admissions of his interlocutors, being, so to speak, latent\nin their minds, and only needing a little obstetric assistance on his\npart to bring them into the light of day. And the better to rivet their\nattention, he chose for the subject of discussion questions of human\ninterest, or else, when the conversation turned to physical phenomena,\nhe led the way towards a teleological or aesthetical interpretation of\ntheir meaning.\n\nThus, where Zeller says that the Greek philosophers confounded the\nobjective with the subjective because they were still imperfectly\nseparated from Nature, we seem to have come on a less ambitious but\nmore intelligible explanation of the facts, and one capable of being\nstated with as much generality as his. Not only among the Greeks but\neverywhere, culture is more or less antagonistic to originality,\nand the diffusion to the enlargement of knowledge. Thought is like\nwater; when spread over a wider surface it is apt to become stagnant\nand shallow. When ideas could only live on the condition of being\ncommunicated to a large circle of listeners, they were necessarily\nadapted to the taste and lowered to the comprehension of relatively\nvulgar minds. And not only so, but the habit of taking their opinions\nand prejudices as the starting-point of every enquiry frequently led\nto the investment of those opinions and prejudices with the formal\nsanction of a philosophical demonstration. It was held that education\nconsisted less in the acquisition of new truth than in the elevation\nto clearer consciousness of truths which had all along been dimly\nperceived.\n\nTo the criticism and systematisation of common language and common\nopinion succeeded the more laborious criticism and systematisation of\nphilosophical theories. Such an enormous amount of labour was demanded\nfor the task of working up the materials amassed by Greek thought\nduring the period of its creative originality, and accommodating them\nto the popular belief, that not much could be done in the way of adding\nto their extent. Nor was this all. Among the most valuable ideas of the\nearlier thinkers were those which stood in most striking opposition\nto the evidence of the senses. As such they were excluded from the\nsystem which had for its object the reorganisation of philosophy on\nthe basis of general consent. Thus not only did thought tend to become\nstationary, but it even abandoned some of the ground which had been\nformerly won.\n\nNot that the vitality of Hellenic reason gave way simultaneously at\nevery point. The same independent spirit, the same imaginative vigour\nwhich had carried physical speculation to such splendid conquests\nduring the first two centuries of its existence were manifested with\nequal effect when the energies previously devoted to Nature as a\nwhole concentrated themselves on the study of conduct and belief. It\nwas thus that Socrates could claim the whole field of human life for\nscientific treatment, and create the method by which it has ever since\nbeen most successfully studied. It was thus that Plato could analyse\nand ideally reconstruct all practices, institutions, and beliefs. It\nwas thus that Aristotle, while definitely arresting the progress of\nresearch, could still complete the method and create the language\nthrough which the results of new research have been established,\nrecognised, and communicated ever since. It was thus that the Stoics\nadvanced from paradox to paradox until they succeeded in co-ordinating\nmorality for all time by reference to the three fundamental ideas of\npersonal conscience, individual obligation, and universal humanity.\nAnd not only were dialectics and ethics at first animated by the same\nenterprising spirit as speculative physics, but their very existence\nas recognised studies must be ascribed to its decay, to the revolution\nthrough which philosophy, from being purely theoretical, became social\nand didactic. While in some directions thought was made stationary\nand even retrogressive by the very process of its diffusion, in\nother directions this diffusion was the cause of its more complete\ndevelopment. Finally, ethics and logic were reduced to a scholastic\nroutine, and progress continued to be made only in the positive\nsciences, until, here also, it was brought to an end by the triumph of\nsuperstition and barbarism combined.\n\nIf the cessation of speculative activity among the Greeks needs to\nbe accounted for by something more definite than phrases about the\nobjective and the subjective, so also does its resumption among the\nnations of modern Europe. This may be explained by two different\ncircumstances--the disappearance of the obstacles which had long\nopposed themselves to the free exercise of reason, and the stimulus\ngiven to enquiry by the Copernican astronomy. After spreading over\nthe whole basin of the Mediterranean, Hellenic culture had next to\nrepair the ravages of the barbarians, and, chiefly under the form of\nChristianity, to make itself accepted by the new nationalities which\nhad risen on the ruins of the Roman empire. So arduous a task was\nsufficient to engross, during many centuries, the entire intellectual\nenergies of Western Europe. At last the extreme limits of diffusion\nwere provisionally reached, and thought once more became available for\nthe discovery of new truth. Simultaneously with this consummation,\nthe great supernaturalist reaction, having also reached its extreme\nlimits, had so far subsided, that Nature could once more be studied on\nscientific principles, with less freedom, indeed, than in old Ionia,\nbut still with tolerable security against the vengeance of interested\nor fanatical opponents. And at the very same conjuncture it was shown\nby the accumulated observations of many ages that the conception of\nthe universe on which the accepted philosophy rested must be replaced\nby one of a directly opposite description. I must confess that in this\nvast revolution the relation between the objective and the subjective,\nas reconstituted by Christianity and the Germanic genius, does not seem\nto me to have played a very prominent part.\n\nIf Zeller\u2019s semi-Hegelian theory of history does scant justice to\nthe variety and complexity of causes determining the evolution of\nphilosophy, it also draws away attention from the ultimate elements,\nthe matter, in an Aristotelian sense, of which that evolution consists.\nBy this I mean the development of particular ideas as distinguished\nfrom the systems into which they enter as component parts. Often\nthe formation of a system depends on an accidental combination of\ncircumstances, and therefore cannot be brought under any particular law\nof progress, while the ideas out of which it is constructed exhibit a\nperfectly regular advance on the form under which they last appeared.\nOthers, again, are characterised by a remarkable fixity which enables\nthem to persist unchanged through the most varied combinations and the\nmost protracted intervals of time. But when each system is regarded\nas, so to speak, an organic individual, the complete and harmonious\nexpression of some one phase of thought, and the entire series of\nsystems as succeeding one another in strict logical order according\nto some simple law of evolution, there will be a certain tendency to\nregard the particular elements of each as determined by the character\nof the whole to which they belong, rather than by their intrinsic\nnature and antecedent history. And I think it is owing to this\nlimitation of view that Zeller has not illustrated, so fully as could\nbe desired, the subtler references by which the different schools of\nphilosophy are connected with one another and also with the literature\nof their own and other times.\n\nAn interesting example of the process on which I have just touched\nis offered by the reappearance and further elaboration of some most\nimportant Greek ideas in modern philosophy. In the concluding chapter\nof this work I have attempted to indicate the chief lines along\nwhich such a transmission may be traced. The subject is one which\nhas hitherto been unduly neglected. No critic would be justified in\ndescribing the speculative movement of the nineteenth century without\nconstant reference to the metaphysicians and moralists of the two\npreceding centuries. Yet the dependence of those thinkers on the\nschools of antiquity is hardly less intimate than our dependence on\nSpinoza and Hume. Nevertheless, in no work that I am acquainted with\nhas this circumstance been used to elucidate the course pursued by\nmodern thought; indeed, I may say that the persistence of Hellenic\nideas down to the most recent times has not been fully recognised by\nany scholar except Prof. Teichm\u00fcller, who has particularly devoted\nhis attention to the history of conceptions as distinguished from the\nhistory of systems.\n\nThe introduction of Teichm\u00fcller\u2019s name affords me an opportunity\nfor mentioning that my attention was not directed to his brilliant\nresearches into various questions connected with Greek philosophy,\nand more particularly with the systems of Plato and Aristotle,\nuntil it was too late for me to profit by them in the present work.\nI allude more particularly to his _Studien zur Geschichte der\nBegriffe_ (Berlin, 1874), and to his recently published _Literarische\nFehden im vierten Jahrhundert vor Chr._ (Breslau, 1881). The chief\npoints of the former work are, that Plato was really a pantheist\nor monist, not, as is commonly believed and as I have myself taken\nfor granted, a dualist; that, as a consequence of the suppression\nof individuality which characterises his system, he did not really\naccept or teach the doctrine of personal immortality, although he\nwished that the mass of the people should believe it; that Plato\nno more attributed a transcendent existence to his ideas than did\nAristotle to his substantial forms; and that in putting an opposite\ninterpretation on his old master\u2019s theory, Aristotle is guilty of\ngross misrepresentation. The most important point of the _Literarische\nFehden_ is that Aristotle published his _Ethics_ while Plato was still\nalive and engaged in the composition of his _Laws_, and that certain\npassages in the latter work, of which one relates to free-will and the\nother to the unity of virtue (861, A ff. and 962 ff.) were intended as\na reply to Aristotle\u2019s well-known criticisms on the Platonic theory of\nethics.\n\nI have been necessarily brief in my statement of Teichm\u00fcller\u2019s\ntheses; and to judge of them apart from the facts and arguments by\nwhich they are supported in the two very interesting volumes above\nnamed would be in the highest degree unfair. I feel bound, however,\nto mention the chief reasons which make me hesitate to accept his\nconclusions. It seems to me, then, that although Plato was moving\nin the direction of pantheism--as I have myself pointed out in more\nthan one passage of this work--he never actually reached it. For\n(i.) he does not, like Plotinus, attempt to deduce his material from\nhis ideal principle, but only blends without reconciling them in the\nworld of sensible experience. (ii.) In opposing the perishable nature\nof the individual (or rather the particular) to the eternal nature\nof the universal, he is going on the facts of experience rather than\non any necessary opposition between the two, and on experience of\nmaterial or sensible objects rather than of immaterial souls; while,\neven as regards material objects, the heavenly bodies, to which he\nattributes everlasting duration, constitute such a sweeping exception\nto his rule as entirely to destroy its applicability. (iii.) Plato\u2019s\nmultiplied and elaborate arguments for the immortality of the soul\nwould be superfluous were his only object to prove that the soul, like\neverything else, contains an eternal element. (iv.) The Pythagorean\ntheory that the soul is a harmony, which Plato rejects, would have\nbeen perfectly compatible with the ideal and impersonal immortality\nwhich Teichm\u00fcller supposes him to have taught; for while the particular\nharmony perishes, the general laws of harmony remain. (v.) Teichm\u00fcller\ndoes not dispose satisfactorily of Plato\u2019s crowning argument that the\nidea of life is as inseparable from the soul as heat from fire or cold\nfrom snow. He says (_op. cit._, p. 134) that, on this principle, the\nindividual soul may still perish, just as particular portions of fire\nare extinguished and particular portions of snow are melted. Yes, but\nportions of fire do not grow cold, nor portions of snow hot, which and\nwhich alone would offer an analogy to the extinction of a soul.\n\nI agree, however, with Teichm\u00fcller that the doctrines of reminiscence\nand metempsychosis have a purely mythical significance, and I should\nhave expressed my views on the subject with more definiteness and\ndecision had I known that his authority might be quoted in their\nsupport. I think that Plato was in a transition state from the Oriental\nto what afterwards became the Christian theory of retribution. In\nthe one he found an allegorical illustration of his metaphysics,\nin the other a very serious sanction for his ethics. He felt their\nincompatibility, but was not prepared to undertake such a complete\nreconstruction of his system as would have been necessitated by\naltogether denying the pre-existence of the soul. Of such vacillation\nPlato\u2019s later Dialogues offer, I think, sufficient evidence. For\nexample, the Matter of the _Timacus_ seems to be a revised version\nof the Other or principle of division and change, which has already\nfigured as a pure idea, in which capacity it must necessarily be\nopposed to matter. At the same time, I must observe that, from my point\nof view, it is enough if Plato inculcated the doctrine of a future life\nas an important element of his religious system. And that he did so\ninculcate it Teichm\u00fcller fully admits.[4]\n\nWith regard to the _Nicomachean Ethics_, I think Teichm\u00fcller has proved\nthis much, that it was written before Aristotle had read the _Laws_\nor knew of its existence. But this does not prove that he wrote it\nduring Plato\u2019s lifetime, since the _Laws_ was not published until after\nPlato\u2019s death, possibly not until several years after. And, published\nor not, Aristotle may very well have remained ignorant of its existence\nuntil his return to Athens, which, according to the tradition, took\nplace about 336 B.C. Teichm\u00fcller does, indeed, suppose that Aristotle\nspent some time in Athens between his flight from Mityl\u00ean\u00ea and his\nengagement as tutor to Alexander (_Literarische Fehden_, p. 261). But\nthis theory, besides its purely conjectural character, would still\nallow the possibility of Aristotle\u2019s having remained unacquainted with\nthe _Laws_ up to the age of forty. And it is obvious that the passages\nwhich Teichm\u00fcller interprets as replies to Aristotle\u2019s criticisms admit\nof more than one alternative explanation. They may have originated\nin doubts and difficulties which spontaneously suggested themselves\nto Plato in the course of his independent reflections; or, granting\nthat there is a polemic reference, it may have been provoked by some\nother critic, or by the spoken criticisms of Aristotle himself. For\nthe supposition that Aristotle wrote his _Ethics_ at the early age of\nthirty-two or thirty-three seems to me so improbable that we should not\naccept it except under pressure of the strongest evidence. That a work\nof such matured thought and observation should have been produced by\nso young a man is, so far as I know, a phenomenon unparalleled in the\nhistory of literature. And to this we must add the further circumstance\nthat the Greek mind was not particularly remarkable for precocity in\nany field except war and statesmanship. We do, indeed, find instances\nof comparatively juvenile authorship, but none, I believe, of a Greek\nwriter, whether poet, historian, or philosopher, who reached the\nfull maturity of his powers before a considerably advanced period of\nmiddle age. That the _Ethics_ is very imperfect I fully admit, and\nhave expressly maintained against its numerous admirers in the course\nof this work. But, although imperfect, it is not crude. It contains\nas good a discussion of the subject undertaken as Aristotle was ever\ncapable of giving, and its limitations are not those of an unripe\nintellect, but of an intellect at all times comparatively unsuited for\nthe treatment of practical problems, and narrowed still further by the\nrequirements of an elaborate speculative system. Now to work out this\nsystem must have demanded considerably more labour and independent\nthought than one can suppose even an Aristotle to have found time for\nbefore thirty-three; while the experience of life shown in the _Ethics_\nis such as study, so far from supplying, would, on the contrary, have\ndelayed. Moreover, the _Rhetoric_, which was confessedly written\nbefore the _Ethics_, exhibits the same qualities in about an equal\ndegree, and therefore, on Teichm\u00fcller\u2019s theory, testifies to a still\nmore extraordinary precocity. And there is the further circumstance\nthat while Aristotle is known to have begun his public career as a\nteacher of rhetoric, his earliest productions seem to have been of a\nrather diffuse and declamatory character, quite opposed to the severe\nconcision which marks the style both of the _Rhetoric_ and of the\n_Ethics_. In addition to these general considerations, one may mention\nthat in a well-known passage of the _Ethics_, referring to a question\nof logical method (I., iv.), Plato is spoken of in the imperfect\ntense, which would seem to imply that he was no longer living when it\nwas written. Speaking from memory, I should even be inclined to doubt\nwhether the mention of a living writer by name at all is consistent\nwith Aristotle\u2019s standard of literary etiquette.\n\nThese are difficulties which Teichm\u00fcller has, no doubt, fully weighed\nand put aside as not sufficiently strong to invalidate his conclusions.\nI have stated them in order to show that enough can be said for the\nold view to justify the republication of what was written on the\nassumption of its unquestionable truth. Moreover, researches conducted\nwith so much skill and learning as those of Teichm\u00fcller demand some\npublic acknowledgment in a work like the present, even when the results\nare such that the writer cannot see his way to accepting them as\nsatisfactorily made out. There are many English scholars more competent\nthan I am to discuss the whole question at issue. Perhaps these lines\nmay induce some of them to give it the attention which it merits, but\nwhich, in England at least, it does not seem to have as yet received.\n\nMy obligations to other writers have been acknowledged throughout this\nwork, so far as I was conscious of them, and so far as they could be\ndefined by reference to specific points. I take the present opportunity\nfor mentioning in a more general way the valuable assistance which\nI have derived from Schwegler\u2019s _Geschichte der Griechischen\nPhilosophie_, Lange\u2019s _Geschichte des Materialismus_, and D\u00fchring\u2019s\n_Geschichte der Philosophie_. The parallel between Socrates, Giordano\nBruno, and Spinoza was probably suggested to me by D\u00fchring, as also\nwere some points in my characterisation of Aristotle. As my view of the\nposition occupied by Lucretius with respect to religion and philosophy\ndiffers in many important points from that of Prof. Sellar, it is the\nmore incumbent on me to state that, but for a perusal of Prof. Sellar\u2019s\neloquent and sympathetic chapters on the great Epicurean poet, my own\nestimate of his genius would certainly not have been written in its\npresent form and would probably not have been written at all.\n\nOn the whole, I am afraid that my acquaintance with the modern\nliterature of the subject will be found rather limited for an\nundertaking like the present. But I do not think that wider reading in\nthat direction would have much furthered the object I had in view. That\nobject has been to exhibit the principal ideas of Greek philosophy in\nthe closest possible connexion with the characters of their authors,\nwith each other, with their developments in modern speculation, with\nthe parallel tendencies of literature and art, with the history of\nreligion, of physical science, and of civilisation as a whole. To\ninterpret all things by a system of universal references is the method\nof philosophy; when applied to a series of events this method is the\nphilosophy of history; when the events are ideas, it is the philosophy\nof philosophy itself.\n\n\n\n\n                               CONTENTS\n\n                                  OF\n\n                           THE FIRST VOLUME.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nEARLY GREEK THOUGHT    pages 1-52\n\nI. Strength and universality of the Greek intellect, 1\u2014Specialisation\nof individual genius, 2\u2014Pervading sense of harmony and union,\n3\u2014Circumstances by which the intellectual character of the Greeks\nwas determined, 3\u2014Philosophy a natural product of the Greek mind,\n4\u2014Speculation at first limited to the external world, 4\u2014Important\nresults achieved by the early Greek thinkers, 5\u2014Their conception of\na cosmos first made science possible, 6\u2014The alleged influence of\nOriental ideas disproved, 6.\n\nII. Thales was the first to offer a purely physical explanation of the\nworld, 7\u2014Why he fixed on water as the origin of all things, 8\u2014Great\nadvance made by Anaximander, 9\u2014His conception of the Infinite,\n9-Anaximenes mediates between the theories of his two predecessors,\n10\u2014The Pythagoreans: their love of antithesis and the importance\nattributed to number in their system, 11\u2014Connexion between their\nethical teaching and the general religious movement of the age,\n13\u2014Analogy with the mediaeval spirit, 13.\n\nIII. Xenophanes: his attacks on the popular religion, 14\u2014Absence of\nintolerance among the Greeks, 15\u2014Primitive character of the monotheism\ntaught by Xenophanes, 16\u2014Elimination of the religious element from\nphilosophy by Parmenides, 16\u2014His speculative innovations, 17\u2014He\ndiscovers the indestructibility of matter, 17\u2014but confuses matter\nwith existence in general, 18\u2014and more particularly with extension,\n19\u2014In what sense he can be called a materialist, 19\u2014New arguments\nbrought forward by Zeno in defence of the Eleatic system, 20\u2014The\nanalytical or mediatorial moment of Greek thought, 21\u2014Influence of\nParmenides on subsequent systems of philosophy, 22\u2014Diametrically\nopposite method pursued by Heracleitus, 22\u2014His contempt for the\nmass of mankind, 22\u2014Doctrine of universal relativity, 23\u2014Fire as\nthe primordial element, 24\u2014The idea of Law first introduced by\nHeracleitus, 25\u2014Extremes to which his principles were afterwards\ncarried, 25\u2014Polarisation of Greek thought, 26.\n\nIV. Historical order of the systems which succeeded and mediated\nbetween Parmenides and Heracleitus, 26\u2014Empedocles: poetic and\nreligious character of his philosophy, 27\u2014His inferiority to previous\nthinkers, 28\u2014Eclectic tendency of his system, 29\u2014In what respects it\nmarks an advance on that of Parmenides, 29\u2014His alleged anticipation\nof the Darwinian theory, 30\u2014The fixity of species a doctrine held\nby every ancient philosopher except Anaximander, 31\u2014The theory of\nknowledge put forward by Empedocles: its objective and materialistic\ncharacter, 32\u2014How it suggested the Atomic theory, 33\u2014The possibility\nof a vacuum denied by Parmenides and asserted by Leucippus, 34\u2014The\nAtomic theory developed and applied by Democritus: encyclopaedic range\nof his studies, 35\u2014His complete rejection of the supernatural, 36.\n\nV. Anaxagoras at Athens, 36\u2014He is accused of impiety and compelled to\nfly, 37\u2014Analysis of his system, 38\u2014Its mechanical and materialistic\ntendency, 39\u2014Separation of Nous from the rest of Nature, 40\u2014In\ndenying the divinity of the heavenly bodies, Anaxagoras opposed himself\nto the universal faith of antiquity, 40\u2014The exceptional intolerance\nof the Athenians and its explanation, 42\u2014Transition from physical to\ndialectical and ethical philosophy, 43.\n\nVI. Early Greek thought as manifested in literature and art, 45\u2014The\ngenealogical method of Hesiod and Herodotus, 47\u2014The search for first\ncauses in Pindar and Aeschylus, 48\u2014Analogous tendencies of sculpture\nand architecture, 49\u2014Combination of geographical with genealogical\nstudies, 50\u2014The evolution of order from chaos suggested by the\nnegative or antithetical moment of Greek thought, 50\u2014Verifiable and\nfruitful character of early Greek thought, 52.\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nTHE GREEK HUMANISTS: NATURE AND LAW    pages 53-107\n\nI. The reaction of speculation on life, 53\u2014Moral superiority of the\nGreeks to the Hebrews and Romans, 54\u2014Illustrations of humanity from\nthe Greek poets, 55\u2014Temporary corruption of moral sentiment and its\nexplanation, 56\u2014Subsequent reformation effected by philosophy, 57\u2014The\nGreek worship of beauty not incompatible with a high moral standard,\n58\u2014Preference of the solid to the showy virtues shown by public\nopinion in Greece, 59\u2014Opinion of Plato, 60.\n\nII. Virtues inculcated in the aphorisms of the Seven Sages,\n62\u2014S\u00f4phrosyn\u00ea as a combination of moderation and self-knowledge,\n62\u2014Illustrations from Homer, 62\u2014Transition from self-regarding to\nother-regarding virtue, 63\u2014How morality acquired a religious sanction\n(i.) by the use of oaths, 64\u2014(ii.) by the ascription of a divine\norigin to law, 65\u2014(iii.) by the practice of consulting oracles on\nquestions of right and wrong, 65\u2014Difference between the Olympian and\nChthonian religions, 66\u2014The latter was closely connected with the\nideas of law and of retribution after death, 67\u2014Beneficent results due\nto the interaction of the two religions, 68.\n\nIII. The religious standpoint of Aeschylus, 69\u2014Incipient dissociation\nof religion from morality in Sophocles, 70\u2014Their complete separation\nin Euripides, 71\u2014Contrast between the Eteocles of Aeschylus and the\nEteocles of Euripides, 72\u2014Analogous difference between Herodotus\nand Thucydides, 73\u2014Evidence of moral deterioration supplied by\nAristophanes and Plato, 74\u2014Probability of an association between\nintellectual growth and moral decline, 75.\n\nIV. The Sophists, 76\u2014Prodicus and Hippias, 77\u2014Their theory of Nature\nas a moral guide, 79\u2014Illustration from Euripides, 80\u2014Probable\nconnexion of the Cynic school with Prodicus, 81\u2014Antithesis between\nNature and Law, 81\u2014Opposition to slavery, 82\u2014The versatility of\nHippias connected with his advocacy of Nature, 83\u2014The right of the\nstronger as a law of Nature, 84.\n\nV. Rise of idealism and accompanying tendency to set convention above\nNature, 85\u2014Agnosticism of Protagoras, 87\u2014In what sense he made man\nthe measure of all things, 88\u2014His defence of civilisation, 89\u2014Similar\nviews expressed by Thucydides, 90\u2014Contrast between the naturalism of\nAeschylus and the humanism of Sophocles, 91\u2014The flexible character\nof Nomos favourable to education, 92\u2014Greek youths and modern women,\n93\u2014The teaching of rhetoric, 93\u2014It is subsequently developed into\neristicism, 94.\n\nVI. The nihilism of Gorgias, 95\u2014His arguments really directed against\nthe worship of Nature, 96\u2014The power of rhetoric in ancient Athens and\nmodern England, 97\u2014The doctrines of Protagoras as developed by the\nCyrenaic school, 99\u2014and by the Megaric school, 100\u2014Subsequent history\nof the antithesis between Nature and Law, 100.\n\nVII. Variety of tendencies represented by the Sophists, 102\u2014Their\nposition in Greek society, 103\u2014The different views taken of their\nprofession in ancient and modern times, 104\u2014Their place in the\ndevelopment of Greek philosophy, 107.\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nTHE PLACE OF SOCRATES IN GREEK PHILOSOPHY    pages 108-170\n\nI. Universal celebrity of Socrates, 108\u2014Our intimate knowledge of his\nappearance and character, 109\u2014Conflicting views of his philosophy,\n110\u2014Untrustworthiness of the Platonic _Apologia_, 111\u2014Plato\u2019s account\ncontradicted by Xenophon, 113\u2014Consistency of the _Apologia_ with the\ngeneral standpoint of Plato\u2019s Dialogues, 114\u2014The Platonic idea of\nscience, 115-\u2014 How Plato can help us to understand Socrates, 116.\n\nII. Zeller\u2019s theory of the Socratic philosophy, 117\u2014Socrates did\nnot offer any definition of knowledge, 119\u2014Nor did he correct the\ndeficiencies of Greek physical speculation, 120\u2014His attitude towards\nphysics resembled that of Protagoras, 121\u2014Positive theories of\nmorality and religion which he entertained, 123.\n\nIII. True meaning and originality of the Socratic teaching,\n125\u2014Circumstances by which the Athenian character was formed, 126\u2014Its\nprosaic, rationalistic, and utilitarian tendencies, 127\u2014Effect\nproduced by the possession of empire, 128\u2014The study of mind in art\nand philosophy, 128\u2014How the Athenian character was represented by\nSocrates, 129\u2014His sympathy with its practical and religious side,\n130\u2014His relation to the Humanists, 131\u2014His identification of virtue\nwith knowledge, 132\u2014The search for a unifying principle in ethics,\n133\u2014Importance of knowledge as a factor in conduct and civilisation,\n133\u2014Fundamental identity of all the mental processes, 136.\n\nIV. Harmony of theory and practice in the life of Socrates, 137\u2014Mind\nas a principle (i.) of self-control, (ii.) of co-operation, and\n(iii.) of spontaneous energy, 137\u2014Derivation and function of the\ncross-examining elenchus, 138\u2014How it illustrates the negative moment\nof Greek thought, 139\u2014Conversations with Glauco and Euthydemus,\n139\u2014The erotetic method as an aid to self-discipline, 141\u2014Survival of\ncontradictory debate in the speeches of Thucydides, 142.\n\nV. Why Socrates insisted on the necessity of defining abstract terms,\n142\u2014Subsequent influence of his method on the development of Roman\nlaw, 144\u2014Substitution of arrangement by resemblance and difference\nfor arrangement by contiguity, 145\u2014The One in the Many, and the Many\nin the One: conversation with Charmides, 146\u2014Illustration of ideas\nby their contradictory opposites, 147\u2014The Socratic induction, (i.)\nan interpretation of the unknown by the known, 148\u2014Misapplication of\nthis method in the theory of final causes, 149\u2014(ii.) A process of\ncomparison and abstraction, 150\u2014Appropriateness of this method to the\nstudy of mental phenomena, 151\u2014Why it is inapplicable to the physical\nsciences, 151\u2014Wide range of studies included in a complete philosophy\nof mind, 151\u2014The dialectical elimination of inconsistency, 152.\n\nVI. Consistency the great principle represented by Socrates,\n152\u2014Parallelism of ethics and logic, 154\u2014The ethical dialectic of\nSocrates and Homer, 154\u2014Personal and historical verifications of\nthe Socratic method, 155\u2014Its influence on the development of art\nand literature, 156\u2014and on the relations between men and women,\n158\u2014Meaning of the Daemonium, 160.\n\nVII. Accusation and trial of Socrates, 161\u2014Futility of the charges\nbrought against him, 162\u2014Misconceptions of modern critics, 164\u2014His\ndefence and condemnation, 165\u2014Worthlessness of Grote\u2019s apology for\nthe Dicastery, 166\u2014Refusal of Socrates to save himself by flight,\n168\u2014Comparison with Giordano Bruno and Spinoza, 169\u2014The monuments\nraised to Socrates by Plato and Xenophon, 169.\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nPLATO; HIS TEACHERS AND HIS TIMES    pages 171-213\n\nI. New meaning given to systems of philosophy by the method of\nevolution, 171\u2014Extravagances of which Plato\u2019s philosophy seems to be\nmade up, 172\u2014The high reputation which it, nevertheless, continues\nto enjoy, 174\u2014Distinction between speculative tendencies and the\nsystematic form under which they are transmitted, 174\u2014Genuineness\nof the Platonic Dialogues, 175\u2014Their chronological order, 177\u2014They\nembody the substance of Plato\u2019s philosophical teaching, 177.\n\nII. Wider application given to the dialectic method by Plato, 179\u2014He\ngoes back to the initial doubt of Socrates, 180\u2014To what extent\nhe shared in the religious reaction of his time, 181\u2014He places\ndemonstrative reasoning above divine inspiration, 182\u2014His criticism\nof the Socratic ethics, 183\u2014Exceptional character of the _Crito_\naccounted for, 184\u2014Traces of Sophistic influence, 185\u2014General\nrelation of Plato to the Sophists, 186\u2014Egoistic hedonism of the\n_Protagoras_, 188.\n\nIII. Plato as an individual: his high descent, personal beauty, and\nartistic endowment, 189\u2014His style is neither poetry nor eloquence\nnor conversation, but the expression of spontaneous thought, 190\u2014The\nPlatonic Socrates, 191\u2014Plato carries the spirit of the Athenian\naristocracy into philosophy, 192\u2014Severity with which great reformers\nhabitually view their own age, 192\u2014Plato\u2019s scornful opinion of\nthe many, 194\u2014His loss of faith in his own order, 195\u2014Horror of\ndespotism inspired by his intercourse with Dionysius, 195\u2014His\ndissatisfaction with the constitution of Sparta, 196\u2014His theory\nof political degeneration verified by the history of the Roman\nrepublic, 196\u2014His exclusively Hellenic and aristocratic sympathies,\n197\u2014Invectives against the corrupting influence of the multitude and\nof their flatterers, 198\u2014Denunciation of the popular law-courts,\n199\u2014Character of the successful pleader, 200\u2014Importance to which he\nhad risen in Plato\u2019s time, 200\u2014The professional teacher of rhetoric,\n201.\n\nIV. Value and comprehensiveness of Plato\u2019s philosophy, 202\u2014Combination\nof Sicilian and Italiote with Attic modes of thought, 203\u2014Transition\nfrom the _Protagoras_ to the _Theaet\u00eatus_, 205\u2014\u2018Man is the measure\nof all things\u2019: opinion and sensation, 206\u2014Extension of the\ndialectic method to all existence, 207\u2014The Heracleitean system true\nof phenomena, 208\u2014Heracleitus and Parmenides in the _Cratylus_,\n209\u2014Tendency to fix on Identity and Difference as the ultimate\nelements of knowledge, 210\u2014Combination of the mathematical method\nwith the dialectic of Socrates, 210\u2014Doctrine of _\u00e0 priori_ cognition,\n211\u2014The idea of Sameness derived from introspection, 212\u2014Tendency\ntowards monism, 213.\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nPLATO AS A REFORMER    pages 214-274\n\nI. Recapitulation, 214\u2014Plato\u2019s identification of the human with\nthe divine, 215\u2014The Athanasian creed of philosophy, 216\u2014Attempts\nto mediate between appearance and reality, 216\u2014Meaning of Platonic\nlove, 217\u2014Its subsequent development in the philosophy of Aristotle,\n218\u2014And in the poetry of Dante, 219\u2014Connexion between religious\nmysticism and the passion of love, 219\u2014Successive stages of Greek\nthought represented in the _Symposium_, 220\u2014Analysis of Plato\u2019s\ndialectical method, 221\u2014Exaggerated importance attributed to\nclassification, 222\u2014Plato\u2019s influence on modern philosophy, 223.\n\nII. Mediatoral character of Plato\u2019s psychology, 223\u2014Empirical\nknowledge as a link between demonstration and sense perception,\n224\u2014Pride as a link between reason and appetite, 224\u2014Transition from\nmetaphysics to ethics: knowledge and pleasure, 225\u2014Anti-hedonistic\narguments of the _Phil\u00e9bus_, 226\u2014Attempt to base ethics on the\ndistinction between soul and body, 227\u2014What is meant by the Idea of\nGood? 228\u2014It is probably the abstract notion of Identity, 229.\n\nIII. How the practical teaching of Plato differed from that of\nSocrates, 229\u2014Identification of justice with self-interest,\n230\u2014Confusion of social with individual happiness, 231\u2014Resolution of\nthe soul into a multitude of conflicting impulses, 232\u2014Impossibility\nof arguing men into goodness, 233.\n\nIV. Union of religion with morality, 234\u2014Cautious handling of\nthe popular theology, 234\u2014The immortality of the soul, 235\u2014The\nPythagorean reformation arrested by the progress of physical\nphilosophy, 237\u2014Immortality denied by some of the Pythagoreans\nthemselves, 237\u2014Scepticism as a transition from materialism to\nspiritualism, 238\u2014The arguments of Plato, 239\u2014Pantheism the natural\noutcome of his system, 240.\n\nV. Plato\u2019s condemnation of art, 241\u2014Exception in favour of religious\nhymns and edifying fiction, 241\u2014Mathematics to be made the basis of\neducation, 242\u2014Application of science to the improvement of the race,\n242\u2014Inconsistency of Plato\u2019s belief in heredity with the doctrine\nof metempsychosis, 243\u2014Scheme for the reorganisation of society,\n244\u2014Practical dialectic of the _Republic_, 245.\n\nVI. Hegel\u2019s theory of the _Republic_, 246\u2014Several distinct tendencies\nconfounded under the name of subjectivity, 247\u2014Greek philosophy not\nan element of political disintegration, 250\u2014Plato borrowed more from\nEgypt than from Sparta, 253.\n\nVII. The consequences of a radical revolution, 254\u2014Plato constructed\nhis new republic out of the elementary and subordinate forms of social\nunion, 254\u2014Inconsistencies into which he was led by this method,\n254\u2014The position which he assigns to women, 256\u2014The Platonic State\nhalf school-board and half marriage-board, 258\u2014Partial realisation of\nPlato\u2019s polity in the Middle Ages, 259\u2014Contrast between Plato and the\nmodern Communists, 259\u2014His real affinities are with Comte and Herbert\nSpencer, 261.\n\nVIII. Reaction of Plato\u2019s social studies on his metaphysics, 262\u2014The\nideas resolved into different aspects of the relation between soul and\nbody, 263\u2014Dialectic dissolution of the four fundamental contrasts\nbetween reality and appearance, 263\u2014Mind as an intermediary between\nthe Ideas and the external world, 265\u2014Cosmogony of the _Timaeus_,\n265\u2014Philosophy and theology, 267.\n\nIX. Plato\u2019s hopes from a beneficent despotism, 268\u2014The _Laws_,\n269\u2014Concessions to current modes of thought, 270\u2014Religious\nintolerance, 271\u2014Recapitulation of Plato\u2019s achievements,\n272\u2014Fertility of his method, 273.\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nCHARACTERISTICS OF ARISTOTLE    pages 275-329\n\nI. Recent Aristotelian literature, 275\u2014Reaction in favour of\nAristotle\u2019s philosophy, 277\u2014and accompanying misinterpretation of its\nmeaning, 278\u2014Zeller\u2019s partiality for Aristotle, 280.\n\nII. Life of Aristotle, 280\u2014His relation to Plato, 281-Aristotle and\nHermeias; 284\u2014Aristotle and Alexander, 285\u2014Aristotle\u2019s residence\nin Athens, flight, and death, 288\u2014His choice of a successor,\n288\u2014Provisions of his will, 289\u2014Personal appearance, 289\u2014Anecdotes\nillustrating his character, 290\u2014Want of self-reliance and originality,\n291.\n\nIII. Prevalent misconception of the difference between Aristotle\nand Plato, 291\u2014Plato a practical, Aristotle a theoretical genius,\n293\u2014Contrast offered by their views of theology, ethics, and politics,\n294\u2014Aristotle\u2019s ideal of a State, 296\u2014His want of political insight\nand prevision, 297\u2014Worthlessness of his theories at the present day,\n298.\n\nIV. Strength and weakness of Aristotle\u2019s _Rhetoric_, 299\u2014Erroneous\ntheory of aesthetic enjoyment put forward in his _Poetics_, 300\u2014The\ntrue nature of tragic emotion, 303\u2014Importance of female characters\nin tragedy, 303\u2014Necessity of poetic injustice, 305\u2014Theory of the\nCatharsis, 306\u2014Aristotle\u2019s rules for reasoning compiled from Plato,\n307\u2014The _Organon_ in Ceylon, 307.\n\nV. Aristotle\u2019s unequalled intellectual enthusiasm, 308\u2014Illustrations\nfrom his writings, 309\u2014His total failure in every physical science\nexcept zoology and anatomy, 311\u2014His repeated rejection of the just\nviews put forward by other philosophers, 312\u2014Complete antithesis\nbetween his theory of Nature and ours, 316.\n\nVI. Supreme mastery shown by Aristotle in dealing with the surface of\nthings, 318\u2014His inability to go below the surface, 319\u2014In what points\nhe was inferior to his predecessors, 320\u2014His standpoint necessarily\ndetermined by the development of Greek thought, 321\u2014Analogous\ndevelopment of the Attic drama, 323.\n\nVII. Periodical return to the Aristotelian method, 325\u2014The\nsystematising power of Aristotle exemplified in all his writings,\n326\u2014but chiefly in those relating to the descriptive sciences,\n327\u2014His biological generalisations, 328\u2014How they are explained and\ncorrected by the theory of evolution, 329.\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nTHE SYSTEMATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ARISTOTLE    pages 330-402\n\nI. Homogeneity of Aristotle\u2019s writings, 330\u2014The _Metaphysics_,\n331\u2014What are the causes and principles of things? 331\u2014Objections\nto the Ionian materialism, 332\u2014Aristotle\u2019s teleology a study of\nfunctions, 332\u2014Illegitimate generalisation to the inorganic world,\n333\u2014Aristotle\u2019s Four Causes, 334\u2014Derivation of his substantial Forms\nfrom the Platonic Ideas, 335\u2014His criticism of the Ideal theory,\n336\u2014Its applicability to every kind of transcendental realism,\n338\u2014Survival of the Platonic theory in Aristotle\u2019s system, 338.\n\nII. Specific forms assumed by the fundamental dualism of Greek\nthought, 339\u2014Stress laid by Aristotle on the antithesis between Being\nand not Being, 339\u2014Its formulation in the highest laws of logic,\n340\u2014Intermediate character ascribed to accidents, 340\u2014Distinction\nbetween truth and real existence, 341\u2014The Categories: their import\nand derivation, 341\u2014Analysis of the idea of Substance, 343\u2014Analysis\nof individuality, 345\u2014Substitution of Possibility and Actuality for\nMatter and Form, 346\u2014Purely verbal significance of this doctrine,\n347\u2014Motion as the transformation of Power into Act, 347.\n\nIII. Aristotle\u2019s theology founded on a dynamical misconception,\n348\u2014Necessity of a Prime Mover, 349\u2014Aristotle not a pantheist\nbut a theist, 350\u2014Mistaken interpretation of Sir A. Grant,\n351\u2014Inconsistency of Aristotle\u2019s metaphysics with Catholic theology,\n352\u2014and with the modern arguments for the existence of a God, 353\u2014as\nwell as with the conclusions of modern science, 353\u2014Self-contradictory\ncharacter of his system, 354\u2014Motives by which it may be explained,\n354\u2014The Greek star-worship and the Christian heaven, 356\u2014Higher\nposition given to the earth by Copernicus, 356\u2014Aristotle\u2019s\nglorification of the heavens, 357\u2014How his astronomy illustrates the\nGreek ideas of circumscription and mediation, 358.\n\nIV. Aristotle\u2019s general principle of systematisation, 359\u2014Deduction\nof the Four Elements, 360\u2014Connexion of the Peripatetic physics with\nastrology and alchemy, 361\u2014Revolution effected by modern science,\n361\u2014Systematisation of biology, 362\u2014Aristotle on the Generation of\nAnimals, 363\u2014His success in comparative anatomy, 364.\n\nV. Antithetical framework of Aristotle\u2019s psychology, 365\u2014His theory\nof sensation contrasted with that of the Atomists, 365\u2014His successful\ntreatment of imagination and memory, 366\u2014How general ideas are\nformed, 366\u2014The active Nous is a self-conscious idea, 367\u2014The train\nof thought which led to this theory, 368\u2014Meaning of the passage in\nthe _Generation of Animals_, 369\u2014Supposed refutation of materialism,\n370\u2014Aristotle not an adherent of Ferrier, 371\u2014Form and matter not\ndistinguished as subject and object, 373\u2014Aristotle rejects the\ndoctrine of personal immortality, 374.\n\nVI. Aristotle\u2019s logic, 375\u2014Subordination of judgments to concepts,\n376\u2014Science as a process of definition and classification,\n377\u2014Aristotle\u2019s theory of propositions, 378\u2014His conceptual analysis\nof the syllogism, 379\u2014Influence of Aristotle\u2019s metaphysics on his\nlogic, 380\u2014Disjunction the primordial form of all reasoning, 381\u2014How\nit gives rise to hypothetical and categorical reasoning, 382.\n\nVII. Theory of applied reasoning: distinction between demonstration and\ndialectic, 383\u2014Aristotle places abstractions above reasoned truth,\n384\u2014Neglect of axioms in comparison with definitions, 384\u2014\u2018Laws\nof nature\u2019 not recognised by Aristotle, 385\u2014He failed to perceive\nthe value of deductive reasoning, 387\u2014Derivation of generals from\nparticulars: Aristotle and Mill, 387\u2014In what sense Aristotle was\nan empiricist, 390\u2014Examination of Zeller\u2019s view, 391\u2014Induction as\nthe analysis of the middle term into the extremes, 393\u2014Theory of\nexperimental reasoning contained in the _Topics_, 394.\n\nVIII. Systematic treatment of the antithesis between Reason and\nPassion, 395\u2014Relation between the _Rhetoric_ and the _Ethics_,\n395\u2014Artificial treatment of the virtues, 396\u2014Fallacious opposition\nof Wisdom to Temperance, 397\u2014Central idea of the _Politics_: the\ndistinction between the intellectual state and the material state,\n398\u2014Consistency of the _Poetics_ with Aristotle\u2019s system as a whole,\n399.\n\nIX. Aristotle\u2019s philosophy a valuable corrective to the modern\nglorification of material industry, 399\u2014Leisure a necessary condition\nof intellectual progress, 400\u2014How Aristotle would view the results of\nmodern civilisation, 401.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] _Die Philosophie der Griechen_, III., a, pp. 5 f.\n\n[2] If I remember rightly, Polybius makes the same observation, but I\ncannot recall the exact reference.\n\n[3] _Sophist_, 243, A.\n\n[4] See especially the interesting note on the subject in his recent\nwork, _Die wirkliche und die scheinbare Welt_, Vorrede, pp x. ff.\n\n\n\n\nADDITIONAL REFERENCES.\n\n Transcriber\u2019s Note: These have been marked up as footnotes in the\n text, using alphabetic coding. This identifies the page and line number\n rather than any precise text.\n\n[A] Page 9, line 18. Plutarch (_ut fertur_), _Plac. Phil._, I., iii., 4.\n\n[B] Page 15, line 26. Xenophanes, _Fragm._ 19 and 21, ed. Mullach.\n\n[C] Page 41, line 25. Diogenes Laert., IX., 34. The words \u2018in the\nEastern countries where he had travelled,\u2019 are a conjectural addition,\nbut they seem justified by the context.\n\n[D] Page 43, line 11. Plutarch, _Pericles_, iv.\n\n[E] Page 65. For the story of Glaucus, see Herodotus VI., lxxxvi.\n\n[F] Page 77, line 21. Plato, _Protag._, 315, D.\n\n[G] Page 78, line 1. _Ibid._, 341, A.\n\n[H] Page 103. For the opinion of Socrates respecting the Sophists, see\nXenophon, _Mem._, I., vi., 11 ff.\n\n[I] Page 114, line 4. Xenophon, _Mem._, I., iv., 1.\n\n[J] Page 194, line 28. _Repub._, 493, A; _ibid._, line 33. Gorgias,\n521, E.\n\n[K] Page 195, line 23. _Theaet\u00eat._, 175, A and 174, E. Jowett\u2019s\nTransl., IV., p. 325.\n\n[L] Page 233, last line. _Sophist._, 246, D.\n\n[M] Page 294, line 7. For Plato\u2019s preference of practice to\ncontemplation, see _Repub._, 496, E.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GREEK PHILOSOPHERS.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nEARLY GREEK THOUGHT.\n\n\nI.\n\nDuring the two centuries that ended with the close of the Peloponnesian\nwar, a single race, weak numerically, and weakened still further\nby political disunion, simultaneously developed all the highest\nhuman faculties to an extent possibly rivalled but certainly not\nsurpassed by the collective efforts of that vastly greater population\nwhich now wields the accumulated resources of modern Europe. This\nrace, while maintaining a precarious foothold on the shores of the\nMediterranean by repeated prodigies of courage and genius, contributed\na new element to civilisation which has been the mainspring of all\nsubsequent progress, but which, as it expanded into wider circles and\nencountered an increasing resistance from without, unavoidably lost\nsome of the enormous elasticity that characterised its earliest and\nmost concentrated reaction. It was the just boast of the Greek that\nto Asiatic refinement and Thracian valour he joined a disinterested\nthirst for knowledge unshared by his neighbours on either side.[5] And\nif a contemporary of Pericles could have foreseen all that would be\nthought, and said, and done during the next twenty-three centuries\nof this world\u2019s existence, at no period during that long lapse of\nages, not even among the kindred Italian race, could he have found\na competitor to contest with Hellas the olive crown of a nobler\nOlympia, the guerdon due to a unique combination of supreme excellence\nin every variety of intellectual exercise, in strategy, diplomacy,\nstatesmanship; in mathematical science, architecture, plastic art, and\npoetry; in the severe fidelity of the historian whose paramount object\nis to relate facts as they have occurred, and the dexterous windings\nof the advocate whose interest leads him to evade or to disguise\nthem; in the far-reaching meditations of the lonely thinker grappling\nwith the enigmas of his own soul, and the fervid eloquence by which a\nmultitude on whose decision hang great issues is inspired, directed,\nor controlled. He would not, it is true, have found any single Greek\nto pit against the athletes of the Renaissance; there were none who\ndisplayed that universal genius so characteristic of the greatest\nTuscan artists such as Lionardo and Michael Angelo; nor, to take a much\nnarrower range, did a single Greek writer whose compositions have come\ndown to us excel, or even attempt to excel, in poetry and prose alike.\nBut our imaginary prophet might have observed that such versatility\nbetter befitted a sophist like Hippias or an adventurer like Critias\nthan an earnest master of the Pheidian type. He might have quoted\nPindar\u2019s sarcasm about highly educated persons who have an infinity\nof tastes and bring none of them to perfection;[6] holding, as Plato\ndid in the next generation, that one man can only do one thing well,\nhe might have added that the heroes of modern art would have done much\nnobler work had they concentrated their powers on a single task instead\nof attempting half a dozen and leaving most of them incomplete.\n\nThis careful restriction of individual effort to a single province\ninvolved no dispersion or incoherence in the results achieved. The\nhighest workers were all animated by a common spirit. Each represented\nsome one aspect of the glory and greatness participated in by all. Nor\nwas the collective consciousness, the uniting sympathy, limited to a\nsingle sphere. It rose, by a graduated series, from the city community,\nthrough the Dorian or Ionian stock with which they claimed more\nimmediate kinship, to the Panhellenic race, the whole of humanity, and\nthe divine fatherhood of Zeus, until it rested in that all-embracing\nnature which Pindar knew as the one mother of gods and men.[7]\n\nWe may, perhaps, find some suggestion of this combined distinctness and\ncomprehensiveness in the aspect and configuration of Greece itself;\nin its manifold varieties of soil, and climate, and scenery, and\nproductions; in the exquisite clearness with which the features of its\nlandscape are defined; and the admirable development of coast-line by\nwhich all parts of its territory, while preserving their political\nindependence, were brought into safe and speedy communication with\none another. The industrial and commercial habits of the people,\nnecessitating a well-marked division of labour and a regulated\ndistribution of commodities, gave a further impulse in the same\ndirection.\n\nBut what afforded the most valuable education in this sense was their\nsystem of free government, involving, as it did, the supremacy of an\nimpersonal law, the subdivision of public authority among a number of\nmagistrates, and the assignment to each of certain carefully defined\nfunctions which he was forbidden to exceed; together with the living\ninterest felt by each citizen in the welfare of the whole state, and\nthat conception of it as a whole composed of various parts, which is\nimpossible where all the public powers are collected in a single hand.\n\nA people so endowed were the natural creators of philosophy. There\ncame a time when the harmonious universality of the Hellenic genius\nsought for its counterpart and completion in a theory of the external\nworld. And there came a time, also, when the decay of political\ninterests left a large fund of intellectual energy, accustomed to work\nunder certain conditions, with the desire to realise those conditions\nin an ideal sphere. Such is the most general significance we can\nattach to that memorable series of speculations on the nature of\nthings which, beginning in Ionia, was carried by the Greek colonists\nto Italy and Sicily, whence, after receiving important additions and\nmodifications, the stream of thought flowed back into the old country,\nwhere it was directed into an entirely new channel by the practical\ngenius of Athens. Thales and his successors down to Democritus were\nnot exactly what we should call philosophers, in any sense of the\nword that would include a Locke or a Hume, and exclude a Boyle or a\nBlack; for their speculations never went beyond the confines of the\nmaterial universe; they did not even suspect the existence of those\nethical and dialectical problems which long constituted the sole\nobject of philosophical discussion, and have continued since the\ntime when they were first mooted to be regarded as its most peculiar\nprovince. Nor yet can we look on them altogether or chiefly as men of\nscience, for their paramount purpose was to gather up the whole of\nknowledge under a single principle; and they sought to realise this\npurpose, not by observation and experiment, but by the power of thought\nalone. It would, perhaps, be truest to say that from their point of\nview philosophy and science were still undifferentiated, and that\nknowledge as a universal synthesis was not yet divorced from special\ninvestigations into particular orders of phenomena. Here, as elsewhere,\nadvancing reason tends to reunite studies which have been provisionally\nseparated, and we must look to our own contemporaries\u2014to our Tyndalls\nand Thomsons, our Helmholtzes and Z\u00f6llners\u2014as furnishing the fittest\nparallel to Anaximander and Empedocles, Leucippus and Diogenes of\nApollonia.\n\nIt has been the fashion in certain quarters to look down on these\nearly thinkers\u2014to depreciate the value of their speculations because\nthey were thinkers, because, as we have already noticed, they reached\ntheir most important conclusions by thinking, the means of truly\nscientific observation not being within their reach. Nevertheless,\nthey performed services to humanity comparable for value with the\nlegislation of Solon and Cleisthenes, or the victories of Marathon\nand Salamis; while their creative imagination was not inferior to\nthat of the great lyric and dramatic poets, the great architects and\nsculptors, whose contemporaries they were. They first taught men to\ndistinguish between the realities of nature and the illusions of sense;\nthey discovered or divined the indestructibility of matter and its\natomic constitution; they taught that space is infinite, a conception\nso far from being self-evident that it transcended the capacity of\nAristotle to grasp; they held that the seemingly eternal universe was\nbrought into its present form by the operation of mechanical forces\nwhich will also effect its dissolution; confronted by the seeming\npermanence and solidity of our planet, with the innumerable varieties\nof life to be found on its surface, they declared that all things had\narisen by differentiation[8] from a homogeneous attenuated vapour;\nwhile one of them went so far as to surmise that man is descended from\nan aquatic animal. But higher still than these fragmentary glimpses\nand anticipations of a theory which still awaits confirmation from\nexperience, we must place their central doctrine, that the universe\nis a cosmos, an ordered whole governed by number and law, not a blind\nconflict of semi-conscious agents, or a theatre for the arbitrary\ninterference of partial, jealous, and vindictive gods; that its\nchanges are determined, if at all, by an immanent unchanging reason;\nand that those celestial luminaries which had drawn to themselves in\nevery age the unquestioning worship of all mankind were, in truth,\nnothing more than fiery masses of inanimate matter. Thus, even if the\nearly Greek thinkers were not scientific, they first made science\npossible by substituting for a theory of the universe which is its\ndirect negation, one that methodised observation has increasingly\ntended to confirm. The garland of poetic praise woven by Lucretius\nfor his adored master should have been dedicated to them, and to them\nalone. His noble enthusiasm was really inspired by their lessons, not\nby the wearisome trifling of a moralist who knew little and cared less\nabout those studies in which the whole soul of his Roman disciple was\nabsorbed.\n\nWhen the power and value of these primitive speculations can no longer\nbe denied, their originality is sometimes questioned by the systematic\ndetractors of everything Hellenic. Thales and the rest, we are told,\nsimply borrowed their theories without acknowledgment from a storehouse\nof Oriental wisdom on which the Greeks are supposed to have drawn as\nfreely as Coleridge drew on German philosophy. Sometimes each system is\naffiliated to one of the great Asiatic religions; sometimes they are\nall traced back to the schools of Hindostan. It is natural that no two\ncritics should agree, when the rival explanations are based on nothing\nstronger than superficial analogies and accidental coincidences. Dr.\nZeller in his wonderfully learned, clear, and sagacious work on Greek\nphilosophy, has carefully sifted some of the hypotheses referred to,\nand shown how destitute they are of internal or external evidence,\nand how utterly they fail to account for the facts. The oldest and\nbest authorities, Plato and Aristotle, knew nothing about such a\nderivation of Greek thought from Eastern sources. Isocrates does,\nindeed, mention that Pythagoras borrowed his philosophy from Egypt,\nbut Isocrates did not even pretend to be a truthful narrator. No Greek\nof the early period except those regularly domiciled in Susa seems to\nhave been acquainted with any language but his own. Few travelled very\nfar into Asia, and of those few, only one or two were philosophers.\nDemocritus, who visited more foreign countries than any man of his\ntime, speaks only of having discussed mathematical problems with the\nwise men whom he encountered; and even in mathematics he was at least\ntheir equal.[9] It was precisely at the greatest distance from Asia,\nin Italy and Sicily, that the systems arose which seem to have most\nanalogy with Asiatic modes of thought. Can we suppose that the traders\nof those times were in any way qualified to transport the speculations\nof Confucius and the Vedas to such a distance from their native homes?\nWith far better reason might one expect a German merchant to carry a\nknowledge of Kant\u2019s philosophy from K\u00f6nigsberg to Canton. But a more\nconvincing argument than any is to show that Greek philosophy in its\nhistorical evolution exhibits a perfectly natural and spontaneous\nprogress from simpler to more complex forms, and that system grew out\nof system by a strictly logical process of extension, analysis, and\ncombination. This is what, chiefly under the guidance of Zeller, we\nshall now attempt to do.\n\n\nII.\n\nThales, of Miletus, an Ionian geometrician and astronomer, about whose\nage considerable uncertainty prevails, but who seems to have flourished\ntowards the close of the seventh century before our era, is by general\nconsent regarded as the father of Greek physical philosophy. Others\nbefore him had attempted to account for the world\u2019s origin, but none\nlike him had traced it back to a purely natural beginning. According\nto Thales all things have come from water. That the earth is entirely\nenclosed by water above and below as well as all round was perhaps a\ncommon notion among the Western Asiatics. It was certainly believed\nby the Hebrews, as we learn from the accounts of the creation and the\nflood contained in Genesis. The Milesian thinker showed his originality\nby generalising still further and declaring that not only did water\nsurround all things, but that all things were derived from it as their\nfirst cause and substance, that water was, so to speak, the material\nabsolute. Never have more pregnant words been spoken; they acted like\na ferment on the Greek mind; they were the grain whence grew a tree\nthat has overshadowed the whole earth. At one stroke they substituted\na comparatively scientific, because a verifiable principle for the\nconfused fancies of mythologising poets. Not that Thales was an\natheist, or an agnostic, or anything of that sort. On the contrary, he\nis reported to have said that all things were full of gods; and the\nreport sounds credible enough. Most probably the saying was a protest\nagainst the popular limitation of divine agencies to certain special\noccasions and favoured localities. A true thinker seeks above all for\nconsistency and continuity. He will more readily accept a perpetual\nstream of creative energy than a series of arbitrary and isolated\ninterferences with the course of Nature. For the rest, Thales made\nno attempt to explain how water came to be transformed into other\nsubstances, nor is it likely that the necessity of such an explanation\nhad ever occurred to him. We may suspect that he and others after him\nwere not capable of distinguishing very clearly between such notions\nas space, time, cause, substance, and limit. It is almost as difficult\nfor us to enter into the thoughts of these primitive philosophers as it\nwould have been for them to comprehend processes of reasoning already\nfamiliar to Plato and Aristotle. Possibly the forms under which we\narrange our conceptions may become equally obsolete at a more advanced\nstage of intellectual evolution, and our sharp distinctions may prove\nto be not less artificial than the confused identifications which they\nhave superseded.\n\nThe next great forward step in speculation was taken by Anaximander,\nanother Milesian, also of distinguished attainments in mathematics\nand astronomy. We have seen that to Thales water, the all-embracing\nelement, became, as such, the first cause of all things, the absolute\nprinciple of existence. His successor adopted the same general point\nof view, but looked out from it with a more penetrating gaze. Beyond\nwater lay something else which he called the Infinite. He did not mean\nthe empty abstraction which has stalked about in modern times under\nthat ill-omened name, nor yet did he mean infinite space, but something\nricher and more concrete than either; a storehouse of materials whence\nthe waste of existence could be perpetually made good. The growth\nand decay of individual forms involve a ceaseless drain on Nature,\nand the deficiency must be supplied by a corresponding influx from\nwithout.[A] For, be it observed that, although the Greek thinkers were\nat this period well aware that nothing can come from nothing, they had\nnot yet grasped the complementary truth inalienably wedded to it by\nLucretius in one immortal couplet, that nothing can return to nothing;\nand Kant is quite mistaken when he treats the two as historically\ninseparable. Common experience forces the one on our attention much\nsooner than the other. Our incomings are very strictly measured out and\naccounted for without difficulty, while it is hard to tell what becomes\nof all our expenditure, physical and economical. Yet, although the\nindestructibility of matter was a conception which had not yet dawned\non Anaximander, he seems to have been feeling his way towards the\nrecognition of a circulatory movement pervading all Nature. Everything,\nhe says, must at last be reabsorbed in the Infinite as a punishment for\nthe sin of its separate existence.[10] Some may find in this sentiment\na note of Oriental mysticism. Rather does its very sadness illustrate\nthe healthy vitality of Greek feeling, to which absorption seemed like\nthe punishment of a crime against the absolute, and not, as to so many\nAsiatics, the crown and consummation of spiritual perfection. Be this\nas it may, a doctrine which identified the death of the whole world\nwith its reabsorption into a higher reality would soon suggest the idea\nthat its component parts vanish only to reappear in new combinations.\n\nAnaximander\u2019s system was succeeded by a number of others which cannot\nbe arranged according to any order of linear progression. Such\narrangements are, indeed, false in principle. Intellectual life, like\nevery other life, is a product of manifold conditions, and their varied\ncombinations are certain to issue in a corresponding multiplicity of\neffects. Anaximenes, a fellow-townsman of Anaximander, followed most\nclosely in the footsteps of the master. Attempting, as it would appear,\nto mediate between his two predecessors, he chose air for a primal\nelement. Air is more omnipresent than water, which, as well as earth,\nis enclosed within its plastic sphere. On the other hand, it is more\ntangible and concrete than the Infinite, or may even be substituted for\nthat conception by supposing it to extend as far as thought can reach.\nAs before, cosmogony grows out of cosmography; the enclosing element is\nthe parent of those embraced within it.\n\nSpeculation now leaves its Asiatic cradle and travels with the Greek\ncolonists to new homes in Italy and Sicily, where new modes of thought\nwere fostered by a new environment. A name, round which mythical\naccretions have gathered so thickly that the original nucleus of fact\nalmost defies definition, first claims our attention. Aristotle, as\nis well known, avoids mentioning Pythagoras, and always speaks of the\nPythagoreans when he is discussing the opinions held by a certain\nItalian school. Their doctrine, whoever originated it, was that all\nthings are made out of number. Brandis regards Pythagoreanism as an\nentirely original effort of speculation, standing apart from the main\ncurrent of Hellenic thought, and to be studied without reference to\nIonian philosophy. Zeller, with more plausibility, treats it as an\noutgrowth of Anaximander\u2019s system. In that system the finite and the\ninfinite remained opposed to one another as unreconciled moments of\nthought. Number, according to the Greek arithmeticians, was a synthesis\nof the two, and therefore superior to either. To a Pythagorean the\nfinite and the infinite were only one among several antithetical\ncouples, such as odd and even, light and darkness, male and female,\nand, above all, the one and the many whence every number after unity\nis formed. The tendency to search for antitheses everywhere, and to\nmanufacture them where they do not exist, became ere long an actual\ndisease of the Greek mind. A Thucydides could no more have dispensed\nwith this cumbrous mechanism than a rope-dancer could get on without\nhis balancing pole; and many a schoolboy has been sorely puzzled by the\nfantastic contortions which Italiote reflection imposed for a time on\nAthenian oratory.\n\nReturning to our more immediate subject, we must observe that the\nPythagoreans did not maintain, in anticipation of modern quantitative\nscience, that all things are determined by number, but that all\nthings are numbers, or are made out of numbers, two propositions not\neasily distinguished by unpractised thinkers. Numbers, in a word,\nwere to them precisely what water had been to Thales, what air was to\nAnaximenes, the absolute principle of existence; only with them the\nidea of a limit, the leading inspiration of Greek thought, had reached\na higher degree of abstraction. Number was, as it were, the exterior\nlimit of the finite, and the interior limit of the infinite. Add to\nthis that mathematical studies, cultivated in Egypt and Phoenicia\nfor their practical utility alone, were being pursued in Hellas with\never-increasing ardour for the sake of their own delightfulness, for\nthe intellectual discipline that they supplied\u2014a discipline even\nmore valuable then than now, and for the insight which they bestowed,\nor were believed to bestow, into the secret constitution of Nature;\nand that the more complicated arithmetical operations were habitually\nconducted with the aid of geometrical diagrams, thus suggesting\nthe possibility of applying a similar treatment to every order of\nrelations. Consider the lively emotions excited among an intelligent\npeople at a time when multiplication and division, squaring and cubing,\nthe rule of three, the construction and equivalence of figures, with\nall their manifold applications to industry, commerce, fine art, and\ntactics, were just as strange and wonderful as electrical phenomena are\nto us; consider also the magical influence still commonly attributed to\nparticular numbers, and the intense eagerness to obtain exact numerical\nstatements, even when they are of no practical value, exhibited by all\nwho are thrown back on primitive ways of living, as, for example, in\nAlpine travelling, or on board an Atlantic steamer, and we shall cease\nto wonder that a mere form of thought, a lifeless abstraction, should\nonce have been regarded as the solution of every problem, the cause of\nall existence; or that these speculations were more than once revived\nin after ages, and perished only with Greek philosophy itself.\n\nWe have not here to examine the scientific achievements of Pythagoras\nand his school; they belong to the history of science, not to that\nof pure thought, and therefore lie outside the present discussion.\nSomething, however, must be said of Pythagoreanism as a scheme of\nmoral, religious, and social reform. Alone among the pre-Socratic\nsystems, it undertook to furnish a rule of conduct as well as a theory\nof being. Yet, as Zeller has pointed out,[11] it was only an apparent\nanomaly, for the ethical teaching of the Pythagoreans was not based\non their physical theories, except in so far as a deep reverence for\nlaw and order was common to both. Perhaps, also, the separation of\nsoul and body, with the ascription of a higher dignity to the former,\nwhich was a distinctive tenet of the school, may be paralleled with\nthe position given to number as a kind of spiritual power creating\nand controlling the world of sense. So also political power was to be\nentrusted to an aristocracy trained in every noble accomplishment,\nand fitted for exercising authority over others by self-discipline,\nby mutual fidelity, and by habitual obedience to a rule of right.\nNevertheless, we must look, with Zeller, for the true source of\nPythagoreanism as a moral movement in that great wave of religious\nenthusiasm which swept over Hellas during the sixth century before\nChrist, intimately associated with the importation of Apollo-worship\nfrom Lycia, with the concentration of spiritual authority in the\noracular shrine of Delphi, and the political predominance of the\nDorian race, those Normans of the ancient world. Legend has thrown\nthis connexion into a poetical form by making Pythagoras the son of\nApollo; and the Samian sage, although himself an Ionian, chose the\nDorian cities of Southern Italy as a favourable field for his new\nteaching, just as Calvinism found a readier acceptance in the advanced\nposts of the Teutonic race than among the people whence its founder\nsprang. Perhaps the nearest parallel, although on a far more extensive\nscale, for the religious movement of which we are speaking, is the\nspectacle offered by mediaeval Europe during the twelfth and thirteenth\ncenturies of our era, when a series of great Popes had concentrated\nall spiritual power in their own hands, and were sending forth army\nafter army of Crusaders to the East; when all Western Europe had\nawakened to the consciousness of its common Christianity, and each\nindividual was thrilled by a sense of the tremendous alternatives\ncommitted to his choice; when the Dominican and Franciscan orders\nwere founded; when Gothic architecture and Florentine painting arose;\nwhen the Troubadours and Minnes\u00e4ngers were pouring out their notes\nof scornful or tender passion, and the love of the sexes had become a\nsentiment as lofty and enduring as the devotion of friend to friend\nhad been in Greece of old. The bloom of Greek religious enthusiasm\nwas more exquisite and evanescent than that of feudal Catholicism;\ninferior in pure spirituality and of more restricted significance as\na factor in the evolution of humanity, it at least remained free from\nthe ecclesiastical tyranny, the murderous fanaticism, and the unlovely\nsuperstitions of mediaeval faith. But polytheism under any form was\nfatally incapable of coping with the new spirit of enquiry awakened by\nphilosophy, and the old myths, with their naturalistic crudities, could\nnot long satisfy the reason and conscience of thinkers who had learned\nin another school to seek everywhere for a central unity of control,\nand to bow their imaginations before the passionless perfection of\neternal law.\n\n\nIII.\n\nSuch a thinker was Xenophanes, of Colophon. Driven, like Pythagoras,\nfrom his native city by civil discords, he spent the greater part of\nan unusually protracted life wandering through the Greek colonies of\nSicily and Southern Italy, and reciting his own verses, not always,\nas it would appear, to a very attentive audience. Elea, an Italiote\ncity, seems to have been his favourite resort, and the school of\nphilosophy which he founded there has immortalised the name of this\notherwise obscure Phocaean settlement. Enough remains of his verses to\nshow with what terrible strength of sarcasm he assailed the popular\nreligion of Hellas. \u2018Homer and Hesiod,\u2019 he exclaims, \u2018have attributed\nto the gods everything that is a shame and reproach among men\u2014theft,\nadultery, and mutual deception.\u2019[12] Nor is Xenophanes content with\nattacking these unedifying stories, he strikes at the anthropomorphic\nconceptions which lay at their root. \u2018Mortals think that the gods have\nsenses, and a voice and a body like their own. The negroes fancy that\ntheir deities are black-skinned and snub-nosed, the Thracians give\ntheirs fair hair and blue eyes; if horses or lions had hands and could\npaint, they too would make gods in their own image.\u2019[13] It was, he\ndeclared, as impious to believe in the birth of a god as to believe\nin the possibility of his death. The current polytheism was equally\nfalse. \u2018There is one Supreme God among gods and men, unlike mortals\nboth in mind and body.\u2019[14] There can be only one God, for God is\nOmnipotent, so that there must be none to dispute his will. He must\nalso be perfectly homogeneous, shaped like a sphere, seeing, hearing,\nand thinking with every part alike, never moving from place to place,\nbut governing all things by an effortless exercise of thought. Had such\ndaring heresies been promulgated in democratic Athens, their author\nwould probably have soon found himself and his works handed over to the\ntender mercies of the Eleven. Happily at Elea, and in most other Greek\nstates, the gods were left to take care of themselves.\n\nXenophanes does not seem to have been ever molested on account of\nhis religious opinions. He complains bitterly enough that people\npreferred fiction to philosophy, that uneducated athletes engrossed\nfar too much popular admiration, that he, Xenophanes, was not\nsufficiently appreciated;[B] but of theological intolerance, so\nfar as our information goes, he says not one single word. It will\neasily be conceived that the rapid progress of Greek speculation\nwas singularly favoured by such unbounded freedom of thought and\nspeech. The views just set forth have often been regarded as a step\ntowards spiritualistic monotheism, and so, considered in the light of\nsubsequent developments, they unquestionably were. Still, looking at\nthe matter from another aspect, we may say that Xenophanes, when he\nshattered the idols of popular religion, was returning to the past\nrather than anticipating the future; feeling his way back to the\ndeeper, more primordial faith of the old Aryan race, or even of that\nstill older stock whence Aryan and Turanian alike diverged. He turns\nfrom the brilliant, passionate, fickle Dyaus, to Z\u00ean, or Ten, the\never-present, all-seeing, all-embracing, immovable vault of heaven.\nAristotle, with a sympathetic insight unfortunately too rare in his\ncriticisms on earlier systems, observes that Xenophanes did not make\nit clear whether the absolute unity he taught was material or ideal,\nbut simply looked up at the whole heaven and declared that the One\nwas God.[15] Aristotle was himself the real creator of philosophic\nmonotheism, just because the idea of living, self-conscious personality\nhad a greater value, a profounder meaning for him than for any other\nthinker of antiquity, one may almost say than for any other thinker\nwhatever. It is, therefore, a noteworthy circumstance that, while\nwarmly acknowledging the anticipations of Anaxagoras, he nowhere speaks\nof Xenophanes as a predecessor in the same line of enquiry. The latter\nmight be called a pantheist were it not that pantheism belongs to a\nmuch later stage of speculation, one, in fact, not reached by the Greek\nmind at any period of its development. His leading conception was\nobscured by a confusion of mythological with purely physical ideas, and\ncould only bear full fruit when the religious element had been entirely\neliminated from its composition. This elimination was accomplished\nby a far greater thinker, one who combined poetic inspiration with\nphilosophic depth; who was penetrating enough to discern the logical\nconsequences involved in a fundamental principle of thought, and bold\nenough to push them to their legitimate conclusions without caring for\nthe shock to sense and common opinion that his merciless dialectic\nmight inflict.\n\nParmenides, of Elea, flourished towards the beginning of the fifth\ncentury B.C. We know very little about his personal history.\nAccording to Plato, he visited Athens late in life, and there made\nthe acquaintance of Socrates, at that time a very young man. But an\nunsupported statement of Plato\u2019s must always be received with extreme\ncaution; and this particular story is probably not less fictitious than\nthe dialogue which it serves to introduce. Parmenides embodied his\ntheory of the world in a poem, the most important passages of which\nhave been preserved. They show that, while continuing the physical\nstudies of his predecessors, he proceeded on an entirely different\nmethod. Their object was to deduce every variety of natural phenomena\nfrom a fundamental unity of substance. He declared that all variety and\nchange were a delusion, and that nothing existed but one indivisible,\nunalterable, absolute reality; just as Descartes\u2019 antithesis of thought\nand extension disappeared in the infinite substance of Spinoza, or as\nthe Kantian dualism of object and subject was eliminated in Hegel\u2019s\nabsolute idealism. Again, Parmenides does not dogmatise to the same\nextent as his predecessors; he attempts to demonstrate his theory by\nthe inevitable necessities of being and thought. Existence, he tells\nus over and over again, _is_, and non-existence is not, cannot even\nbe imagined or thought of as existing, for thought is the same as\nbeing. This is not an anticipation of Hegel\u2019s identification of being\nwith thought; it only amounts to the very innocent proposition that\na thought is something and about something\u2014enters, therefore, into\nthe general undiscriminated mass of being. He next proceeds to prove\nthat what is can neither come into being nor pass out of it again.\nIt cannot come out of the non-existent, for that is inconceivable;\nnor out of the existent, for nothing exists but being itself; and the\nsame argument proves that it cannot cease to exist. Here we find the\nindestructibility of matter, a truth which Anaximander had not yet\ngrasped, virtually affirmed for the first time in history. We find\nalso that our philosopher is carried away by the enthusiasm of a new\ndiscovery, and covers more ground than he can defend in maintaining\nthe permanence of all existence whatever. The reason is that to him,\nas to every other thinker of the pre-Socratic period, all existence\nwas material, or, rather, all reality was confounded under one vague\nconception, of which visible resisting extension supplied the most\nfamiliar type. To proceed: Being cannot be divided from being, nor is\nit capable of condensation or expansion (as the Ionians had taught);\nthere is nothing by which it can be separated or held apart; nor is it\never more or less existent, but all is full of being. Parmenides goes\non in his grand style:\u2014\n\n    \u2018Therefore the whole extends continuously,\n    Being by Being set; immovable,\n    Subject to the constraint of mighty laws;\n    Both increate and indestructible,\n    Since birth and death have wandered far away\n    By true conviction into exile driven;\n    The same, in self-same place, and by itself\n    Abiding, doth abide most firmly fixed,\n    And bounded round by strong Necessity.\n    Wherefore a holy law forbids that Being\n    Should be without an end, else want were there,\n    And want of that would be a want of all.\u2019[16]\n\nThus does the everlasting Greek love of order, definition, limitation,\nreassert its supremacy over the intelligence of this noble thinker,\njust as his almost mystical enthusiasm has reached its highest pitch\nof exaltation, giving him back a world which thought can measure,\ncircumscribe, and control.\n\nBeing, then, is finite in extent, and, as a consequence of its absolute\nhomogeneity, spherical in form. There is good reason for believing that\nthe earth\u2019s true figure was first discovered in the fifth century B.C.,\nbut whether it was suggested by the _\u00e0 priori_ theories of Parmenides,\nor was generalised by him into a law of the whole universe, or whether\nthere was more than an accidental connexion between the two hypotheses,\nwe cannot tell. Aristotle, at any rate, was probably as much indebted\nto the Eleatic system as to contemporary astronomy for his theory\nof a finite spherical universe. It will easily be observed that the\ndistinction between space and matter, so obvious to us, and even to\nGreek thinkers of a later date, had not yet dawned upon Parmenides.\nAs applied to the former conception, most of his affirmations are\nperfectly correct, but his belief in the finiteness of Being can only\nbe justified on the supposition that Being is identified with matter.\nFor it must be clearly understood (and Zeller has the great merit of\nhaving proved this fact by incontrovertible arguments)[17] that the\nEleatic Being was not a transcendental conception, nor an abstract\nunity, as Aristotle erroneously supposed, nor a Kantian noumenon, nor\na spiritual essence of any kind, but a phenomenal reality of the most\nconcrete description. We can only not call Parmenides a materialist,\nbecause materialism implies a negation of spiritualism, which in his\ntime had not yet come into existence. He tells us plainly that a man\u2019s\nthoughts result from the conformation of his body, and are determined\nby the preponderating element in its composition. Not much, however,\ncan be made of this rudimentary essay in psychology, connected as it\nseems to be with an appendix to the teaching of our philosopher, in\nwhich he accepts the popular dualism, although still convinced of its\nfalsity, and uses it, under protest, as an explanation of that very\ngenesis which he had rejected as impossible.\n\nAs might be expected, the Parmenidean paradoxes provoked a considerable\namount of contradiction and ridicule. The Reids and Beatties of that\ntime drew sundry absurd consequences from the new doctrine, and offered\nthem as a sufficient refutation of its truth. Zeno, a young friend and\nfavourite of Parmenides, took up arms in his master\u2019s defence, and\nsought to prove with brilliant dialectical ability that consequences\nstill more absurd might be deduced from the opposite belief. He\noriginated a series of famous puzzles respecting the infinite\ndivisibility of matter and the possibility of motion, subsequently\nemployed as a disproof of all certainty by the Sophists and Sceptics,\nand occasionally made to serve as arguments on behalf of agnosticism\nby writers of our own time. Stated generally, they may be reduced to\ntwo. A whole composed of parts and divisible _ad infinitum_ must be\neither infinitely great or infinitely little; infinitely great if its\nparts have magnitude, infinitely little if they have not. A moving body\ncan never come to the end of a given line, for it must first traverse\nhalf the line, then half the remainder, and so on for ever. Aristotle\nthought that the difficulty about motion could be solved by taking the\ninfinite divisibility of time into account; and Coleridge, according to\nhis custom, repeated the explanation without acknowledgment. But Zeno\nwould have refused to admit that any infinite series could come to an\nend, whether it was composed of successive or of co-existent parts. So\nlong as the abstractions of our understanding are treated as separate\nentities, these and similar puzzles will continue to exercise the\ningenuity of metaphysicians. Our present business, however, is not to\nsolve Zeno\u2019s difficulties, but to show how they illustrate a leading\ncharacteristic of Greek thought, its tendency to perpetual analysis,\na tendency not limited to the philosophy of the Greeks, but pervading\nthe whole of their literature and even of their art. Homer carefully\ndistinguishes the successive steps of every action, and leads up to\nevery catastrophe by a series of finely graduated transitions. Like\nZeno, again, he pursues a system of dichotomy, passing rapidly over the\nfirst half of his subject, and relaxes the speed of his narrative by\ngoing into ever-closer detail until the consummation is reached. Such\na poem as the \u2018Achilleis\u2019 of modern critics would have been perfectly\nintolerable to a Greek, from the too rapid and uniform march of its\naction. Herodotus proceeds after a precisely similar fashion, advancing\nfrom a broad and free treatment of history to elaborate minuteness of\ndetail. So, too, a Greek temple divides itself into parts so distinct,\nyet so closely connected, that the eye, after separating, as easily\nrecombines them into a whole. The evolution of Greek music tells the\nsame tale of progressive subdivision, which is also illustrated by the\npassage from long speeches to single lines, and from these again to\nhalf lines in the dialogue of a Greek drama. No other people could have\ncreated mathematical demonstration, for no other would have had skill\nand patience enough to discover the successive identities interposed\nbetween and connecting the sides of an equation. The dialectic of\nSocrates and Plato, the somewhat wearisome distinctions of Aristotle,\nand, last of all, the fine-spun series of triads inserted by Proclus\nbetween the superessential One and the fleeting world of sense,\u2014were\nall products of the same fundamental tendency, alternately most\nfruitful and most barren in its results. It may be objected that Zeno,\nso far from obeying this tendency, followed a diametrically opposite\nprinciple, that of absolutely unbroken continuity. True; but the\n\u2018Eleatic Palamedes\u2019 fought his adversaries with a weapon wrested out\nof their own hands; rejecting analysis as a law of real existence, he\ncontinued to employ it as a logical artifice with greater subtlety than\nhad ever yet been displayed in pure speculation.[18]\n\nBesides Zeno, Parmenides seems to have had only one disciple of\nnote, Melissus, the Samian statesman and general; but under various\nmodifications and combined with other elements, the Eleatic absolute\nentered as a permanent factor into Greek speculation. From it were\nlineally descended the Sphairos of Empedocles, the eternal atoms of\nLeucippus, the Nous of Anaxagoras, the Megaric Good, the supreme\nsolar idea of Plato, the self-thinking thought of Aristotle, the\nimperturbable tranquillity attributed to their model sage by Stoics\nand Epicureans alike, the sovereign indifference of the Sceptics, and\nfinally, the Neo-platonic One. Modern philosophers have sought for\ntheir supreme ideal in power, movement, activity, life, rather than in\nany stationary substance; yet even among them we find Herbart partially\nreviving the Eleatic theory, and confronting Hegel\u2019s fluent categories\nwith his own inflexible monads.\n\nWe have now to study an analogous, though far less complicated,\nantagonism in ancient Greece, and to show how her most brilliant period\nof physical philosophy arose from the combination of two seemingly\nirreconcilable systems. Parmenides, in an address supposed to be\ndelivered by Wisdom to her disciple, warns us against the method\npursued by \u2018ignorant mortals, the blind, deaf, stupid, confused\ntribes, who hold that to be and not to be are the same, and that all\nthings move round by an inverted path.\u2019[19] What Parmenides denounced\nas arrant nonsense was deliberately proclaimed to be the highest\ntruth by his illustrious contemporary, Heracleitus, of Ephesus. This\nwonderful thinker is popularly known as the weeping philosopher,\nbecause, according to a very silly tradition, he never went abroad\nwithout shedding tears over the follies of mankind. No such mawkish\nsentimentality, but bitter scorn and indignation, marked the attitude\nof Heracleitus towards his fellows. A self-taught sage, he had no\nrespect for the accredited instructors of Hellas. \u2018Much learning,\u2019\nhe says, \u2018does not teach reason, else it would have taught Hesiod\nand Pythagoras, Xenophanes and Hecataeus.\u2019[20] Homer, he declares,\nought to be flogged out of the public assemblages, and Archilochus\nlikewise. When the highest reputations met with so little mercy,\nit will readily be imagined what contempt he poured on the vulgar\nherd. The feelings of a high-born aristocrat combine with those of a\nlofty genius to point and wing his words. \u2018The many are bad and few\nare the good. The best choose one thing instead of all, a perpetual\nwell-spring of fame, while the many glut their appetites like beasts.\nOne man is equal to ten thousand if he is the best.\u2019 This contempt\nwas still further intensified by the very excusable incapacity of the\npublic to understand profound thought conveyed in a style proverbial\nfor its obscurity. \u2018Men cannot comprehend the eternal law; when I\nhave explained the order of Nature they are no wiser than before.\u2019\nWhat, then, was this eternal law, a knowledge of which Heracleitus\nfound so difficult to popularise? Let us look back for a moment at\nthe earlier Ionian systems. They had taught that the universe arose\neither by differentiation or by condensation and expansion from a\nsingle primordial substance, into which, as Anaximander, at least,\nheld, everything, at last returned. Now, Heracleitus taught that this\ntransformation is a universal, never-ending, never-resting process;\nthat all things are moving; that Nature is like a stream in which no\nman can bathe twice; that rest and stability are the law, not of life,\nbut of death. Again, the Pythagorean school, as we have seen, divided\nall things into a series of sharply distinguished antithetical pairs.\nHeracleitus either directly identified the terms of every opposition,\nor regarded them as necessarily combined, or as continually passing\ninto one another. Perhaps we shall express his meaning most thoroughly\nby saying that he would have looked on all three propositions as\nequivalent statements of a single fact. In accordance with this\nprinciple he calls war the father and king and lord of all, and\ndenounces Homer\u2019s prayer for the abolition of strife as an unconscious\nblasphemy against the universe itself. Yet, even his powerful\nintellect could not grasp the conception of a shifting relativity\nas the law and life of things without embodying it in a particular\nmaterial substratum. Following the Ionian tradition, he sought for a\nworld-element, and found it in that cosmic fire which enveloped the\nterrestrial atmosphere, and of which the heavenly luminaries were\nsupposed to be formed. \u2018Fire,\u2019 says the Ephesian philosopher, no doubt\nadapting his language to the comprehension of a great commercial\ncommunity, \u2018is the general medium of exchange, as gold is given for\neverything, and everything for gold.\u2019 \u2018The world was not created by any\ngod or any man, but always was, and is, and shall be, an ever-living\nfire, periodically kindled and quenched.\u2018 By cooling and condensation,\nwater is formed from fire, and earth from water; then, by a converse\nprocess called the way up as the other was the way down, earth again\npasses into water and water into fire. At the end of certain stated\nperiods the whole world is to be reconverted into fire, but only to\nenter on a new cycle in the series of its endless revolutions\u2014a\nconception, so far, remarkably confirmed by modern science. The whole\ntheory, including a future world conflagration, was afterwards adopted\nby the Stoics, and probably exercised a considerable influence on the\neschatology of the early Christian Church. Imagination is obliged to\nwork under forms which thought has already superseded; and Heracleitus\nas a philosopher had forestalled the dazzling consummation to which as\na prophet he might look forward in wonder and hope. For, his elemental\nfire was only a picturesque presentation indispensable to him, but\nnot to us, of the sovereign law wherein all things live and move and\nhave their being. To have introduced such an idea into speculation\nwas his distinctive and inestimable achievement, although it may have\nbeen suggested by the \u03b5\u1f31\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7 or destiny of the theological poets,\na term occasionally employed in his writings. It had a moral as well\nas a physical meaning, or rather it hovers ambiguously between the\ntwo. \u2018The sun shall not transgress his bounds, or the Erinyes who help\njustice will find him out.\u2019 It is the source of human laws, the common\nreason which binds men together, therefore they should hold by it even\nmore firmly than by the laws of the State. It is not only all-wise but\nall-good, even where it seems to be the reverse; for our distinctions\nbetween good and evil, just and unjust, vanish in the divine harmony of\nNature, the concurrent energies and identifying transformations of her\nuniversal life.\n\nAccording to Aristotle, the Heracleitean flux was inconsistent with\nthe highest law of thought, and made all predication impossible. It\nhas been shown that the master himself recognised a fixed recurring\norder of change which could be affirmed if nothing else could. But the\nprinciple of change, once admitted, seemed to act like a corrosive\nsolvent, too powerful for any vessel to contain. Disciples were\nsoon found who pushed it to extreme consequences with the effect of\nabolishing all certainty whatever. In Plato\u2019s time it was impossible\nto argue with a Heracleitean; he could never be tied down to a\ndefinite statement. Every proposition became false as soon as it was\nuttered, or rather before it was out of the speaker\u2019s mouth. At last,\na distinguished teacher of the school declined to commit himself\nby using words, and disputed exclusively in dumb show. A dangerous\nspeculative crisis had set in. At either extremity of the Hellenic\nworld the path of scientific inquiry was barred; on the one hand by\na theory eliminating non-existence from thought, and on the other\nhand by a theory identifying it with existence. The luminous beam\nof reflection had been polarised into two divergent rays, each light\nwhere the other was dark and dark where the other was light, each\ndenying what the other asserted and asserting what the other denied.\nFor a century physical speculation had taught that the universe was\nformed by the modification of a single eternal substance, whatever\nthat substance might be. By the end of that period, all becoming was\nabsorbed into being at Elea, and all being into becoming at Ephesus.\nEach view contained a portion of the truth, and one which perhaps\nwould never have been clearly perceived if it had not been brought\ninto exclusive prominence. But further progress was impossible until\nthe two half-truths had been recombined. We may compare Parmenides and\nHeracleitus to two lofty and precipitous peaks on either side of an\nAlpine pass. Each commands a wide prospect, interrupted only on the\nside of its opposite neighbour. And the fertilising stream of European\nthought originates with neither of them singly, but has its source\nmidway between.\n\n\nIV.\n\nWe now enter on the last period of purely objective philosophy, an\nage of mediating and reconciling, but still profoundly original\nspeculation. Its principal representatives, with whom alone we have\nto deal, are Empedocles, the Atomists, Leucippus and Democritus, and\nAnaxagoras. There is considerable doubt and difficulty respecting the\norder in which they should be placed. Anaxagoras was unquestionably the\noldest and Democritus the youngest of the four, the difference between\ntheir ages being forty years. It is also nearly certain that the\nAtomists came after Empedocles. But if we take a celebrated expression\nof Aristotle\u2019s[21] literally (as there is no reason why it should not\nbe taken), Anaxagoras, although born before Empedocles, published\nhis views at a later period. Was he also anticipated by Leucippus? We\ncannot tell with certainty, but it seems likely from a comparison of\ntheir doctrines that he was; and in all cases the man who naturalised\nphilosophy in Athens, and who by his theory of a creative reason\nfurnishes a transition to the age of subjective speculation, will be\nmost conveniently placed at the close of the pre-Socratic period.\n\nA splendid tribute has been paid to the fame of Empedocles by\nLucretius, the greatest didactic poet of all time, and by a great\ndidactic poet of our own time, Mr. Matthew Arnold. But the still more\nrapturous panegyric pronounced by the Roman enthusiast on Epicurus\nmakes his testimony a little suspicious, and the lofty chant of\nour own contemporary must be taken rather as an expression of his\nown youthful opinions respecting man\u2019s place in Nature, than as a\nfaithful exposition of the Sicilian thinker\u2019s creed. Many another\nname from the history of philosophy might with better reason have\nbeen prefixed to that confession of resigned and scornful scepticism\nentitled _Empedocles on Etna_. The real doctrines of an essentially\nreligious teacher would hardly have been so cordially endorsed by\nMr. Swinburne. But perhaps no other character could have excited the\ndeep sympathy felt by one poetic genius for another, when with both\nof them thought is habitually steeped in emotion. Empedocles was the\nlast Greek of any note who threw his philosophy into a metrical form.\nNeither Xenophanes nor Parmenides had done this with so much success.\nNo less a critic than Aristotle extols the Homeric splendour of his\nverses, and Lucretius, in this respect an authority, speaks of them\nas almost divine. But, judging from the fragments still extant, their\nspeculative content exhibits a distinct decline from the height reached\nby his immediate predecessors. Empedocles betrays a distrust in man\u2019s\npower of discovering truth, almost, although not quite, unknown to\nthem. Too much certainty would be impious. He calls on the \u2018much-wooed\nwhite-armed virgin muse\u2019 to\u2014\n\n    \u2018Guide from the seat of Reverence thy bright car,\n    And bring to us the creatures of a day,\n    What without sin we may aspire to know.\u2019[22]\n\nWe also miss in him their single-minded devotion to philosophy and\ntheir rigorous unity of doctrine. The Acragantine sage was a party\nleader (in which capacity, to his great credit, he victoriously upheld\nthe popular cause), a rhetorician, an engineer, a physician, and a\nthaumaturgist. The well-known legend relating to his death may be\ntaken as a not undeserved satire on the colossal self-conceit of the\nman who claimed divine honours during his lifetime. Half-mystic and\nhalf-rationalist, he made no attempt to reconcile the two inconsistent\nsides of his intellectual character. It may be compared to one of\nthose grotesque combinations in which, according to his morphology,\nthe heads and bodies of widely different animals were united during\nthe beginnings of life before they had learned to fall into their\nproper places. He believed in metempsychosis, and professed to remember\nthe somewhat miscellaneous series of forms through which his own\npersonality had already run. He had been a boy, a girl, a bush, a\nbird, and a fish. Nevertheless, as we shall presently see, his theory\nof Nature altogether excluded such a notion as the soul\u2019s separate\nexistence. We have now to consider what that theory actually was. It\nwill be remembered that Parmenides had affirmed the perpetuity and\neternal self-identity of being, but that he had deprived this profound\ndivination of all practical value by interpreting it in a sense which\nexcluded diversity and change. Empedocles also declares creation and\ndestruction to be impossible, but explains that the appearances so\ndenominated arise from the union and separation of four everlasting\nsubstances\u2014earth, air, fire, and water. This is the famous doctrine\nof the four elements, which, adopted by Plato and Aristotle, was\nlong regarded as the last word of chemistry, and still survives in\npopular phraseology. Its author may have been guided by an unconscious\nreflection on the character of his own philosophical method, for was\nnot he, too, constructing a new system out of the elements supplied\nby his predecessors? They had successively fixed on water, air, and\nfire as the primordial form of existence; he added a fourth, earth,\nand effected a sort of reconciliation by placing them all on an equal\nfooting. Curiously enough, the earlier monistic system had a relative\njustification which his crude eclecticism lacked. All matter may exist\neither in a solid, a liquid, or a gaseous form; and all solid matter\nhas reached its present condition after passing through the two other\ndegrees of consistency. That the three modifications should be found\ncoexisting in our own experience is a mere accident of the present\nr\u00e9gime, and to enumerate them is to substitute a description for an\nexplanation, the usual fault of eclectic systems. Empedocles, however,\nbesides his happy improvement on Parmenides, made a real contribution\nto thought when, as Aristotle puts it, he sought for a moving as well\nas for a material cause; in other words, when he asked not only of\nwhat elements the world is composed, but also by what forces were they\nbrought together. He tells us of two such causes, Love and Strife,\nthe one a combining, the other a dissociating power. If for these\nhalf-mythological names we read attractive and repulsive forces, the\nresult will not be very different from our own current cosmologies.\nSuch terms, when so used as to assume the existence of occult qualities\nin matter, driving its parts asunder or drawing them close together,\nare, in truth, as completely mythological as any figments of Hellenic\nfancy. Unlike their modern antitypes, the Empedoclean goddesses did\nnot reign together, but succeeded one another in alternate dominion\nduring protracted periods of time. The victory of Love was complete\nwhen all things had been drawn into a perfect sphere, evidently the\nabsolute Eleatic Being subjected to a Heracleitean law of vicissitude\nand contradiction. For Strife lays hold on the consolidated orb, and\nby her disintegrating action gradually reduces it to a formless chaos,\ntill, at the close of another world-period, the work of creation begins\nagain. Yet growth and decay are so inextricably intertwined that\nEmpedocles failed to keep up this ideal separation, and was compelled\nto admit the simultaneous activity of both powers in our everyday\nexperience, so that Nature turns out to be composed of six elements\ninstead of four, the mind which perceives it being constituted in a\nprecisely similar manner. But Love, although on the whole victorious,\ncan only gradually get the better of her retreating enemy, and Nature,\nas we know it, is the result of their continued conflict. Empedocles\ndescribed the process of evolution, as he conceived it, in somewhat\nminute detail. Two points only are of much interest to us, his alleged\nanticipation of the Darwinian theory and his psychology. The former,\nsuch as it was, has occasionally been attributed to Lucretius, but\nthe Roman poet most probably copied Epicurus, although the very brief\nsummary of that philosopher\u2019s physical system preserved by Diogenes\nLaertius contains no allusion to such a topic. We know, however, that\nin Aristotle\u2019s time a theory identical with that of Lucretius was\nheld by those who rejected teleological explanations of the world in\ngeneral and of living organisms in particular. All sorts of animals\nwere produced by spontaneous generation; only those survived which\nwere accidentally furnished with appliances for procuring nourishment\nand for propagating their kind. The notion itself originated with\nEmpedocles, whose fanciful suppositions have already been mentioned\nin a different connexion. Most assuredly he did not offer it as a\nsolution of problems which in his time had not yet been mooted, but as\nan illustration of the confusion which prevailed when Love had only\nadvanced a little way in her ordering, harmonising, unifying task.\nPrantl, writing a few years before the appearance of Mr. Darwin\u2019s\nbook on the Origin of Species, and therefore without any prejudice\non the subject, observes with truth that this theory of Empedocles\nwas deeply rooted in the mythological conceptions of the time.[23]\nPerhaps he was seeking for a rationalistic explanation of the centaurs,\nminotaurs, hundred-handed giants, and so forth, in whose existence he\nhad not, like Lucretius, learned completely to disbelieve. His strange\nsupposition was afterwards freed from its worst extravagances; but\neven as stated in the _De Rerum Natur\u00e2_, it has no claim whatever\nto rank as a serious hypothesis. Anything more unlike the Darwinian\ndoctrine, according to which all existing species have been evolved\nfrom less highly-organized ancestors by the gradual accumulation of\nminute differences, it would be difficult to conceive. Every thinker of\nantiquity, with one exception, believed in the immutability of natural\nspecies. They had existed unchanged from all eternity, or had sprung\nup by spontaneous generation from the earth\u2019s bosom in their present\nform. The solitary dissentient was Anaximander, who conjectured that\nman was descended from an aquatic animal.[24] Strange to say, this\nlucky guess has not yet been quoted as an argument against the Ascidian\npedigree. It is chiefly the enemies of Darwinism who are eager to find\nit anticipated in Empedocles or Lucretius. By a curious inversion of\ntraditionalism, it is fancied that a modern discovery can be upset\nby showing that somebody said something of the kind more than two\nthousand years ago. Unfortunately authority has not the negative value\nof disproving the principles which it supports. We must be content\nto accept the truths brought to light by observation and reasoning,\neven at the risk of finding ourselves in humiliating agreement with a\nphilosopher of antiquity.[25]\n\nPassing from life to mind, we find Empedocles teaching an even more\npronounced materialism than Parmenides, inasmuch as it is stated in\nlanguage of superior precision. Our souls are, according to him,\nmade up of elements like those which constitute the external world,\neach of these being perceived by a corresponding portion of the same\nsubstances within ourselves\u2014fire by fire, water by water, and so on\nwith the rest. It is a mistake to suppose that speculation begins from\na subjective standpoint, that men start with a clear consciousness of\ntheir own personality, and proceed to construct an objective universe\nafter the same pattern. Doubtless they are too prone to personify the\nblind forces of Nature, and Empedocles himself has just supplied us\nwith an example of this tendency, but they err still more by reading\noutward experience into their own souls, by materialising the processes\nof consciousness, and resolving human personality into a loose\nconfederacy of inorganic units. Even Plato, who did more than anyone\nelse towards distinguishing between mind and body, ended by laying down\nhis psychology on the lines of an astronomical system. Meanwhile, to\nhave separated the perception of an object from the object itself, in\never so slight a degree, was an important gain to thought. We must not\nomit to notice a hypothesis by which Empedocles sought to elucidate\nthe mechanism of sensation, and which was subsequently adopted by the\natomic school; indeed, as will presently be shown, we have reason to\nbelieve that the whole atomic theory was developed out of it. He held\nthat emanations were being continually thrown off from the surfaces of\nbodies, and that they penetrated into the organs of sense through fine\npassages or pores. This may seem a crude guess, but it is at any rate\nmuch more scientific than Aristotle\u2019s explanation. According to the\nlatter, possibilities of feeling are converted into actualities by the\npresence of an object. In other words, we feel when and because we do;\na safe assertion, but hardly an addition to our positive knowledge of\nthe subject.\n\nWe have seen how Greek thought had arrived at a perfectly just\nconception of the process by which all physical transformations are\neffected. The whole extended universe is an aggregate of bodies, while\neach single body is formed by a combination of everlasting elements,\nand is destroyed by their separation. But if Empedocles was right, if\nthese primary substances were no other than the fire, air, water, and\nearth of everyday experience, what became of the Heracleitean law,\nconfirmed by common observation, that, so far from remaining unaltered,\nthey were continually passing into one another? To this question the\natomic theory gave an answer so conclusive, that, although ignored or\ncontemned by later schools, it was revived with the great revival of\nscience in the sixteenth century, was successfully employed in the\nexplanation of every order of phenomena, and still remains the basis\nof all physical enquiry. The undulatory theory of light, the law\nof universal gravitation, and the laws of chemical combination can\nonly be expressed in terms implying the existence of atoms; the laws\nof gaseous diffusion, and of thermodynamics generally, can only be\nunderstood with their help; and the latest developments of chemistry\nhave tended still further to establish their reality, as well as to\nelucidate their remarkable properties. In the absence of sufficient\ninformation, it is difficult to determine by what steps this admirable\nhypothesis was evolved. Yet, even without external evidence, we may\nfairly conjecture that, sooner or later, some philosopher, possessed of\na high generalising faculty, would infer that if bodies are continually\nthrowing off a flux of infinitesimal particles from their surfaces,\nthey must be similarly subdivided all through; and that if the organs\nof sense are honeycombed with imperceptible pores, such may also be\nthe universal constitution of matter.[26] Now, according to Aristotle,\nLeucippus, the founder of atomism, did actually use the second of these\narguments, and employed it in particular to prove the existence of\nindivisible solids.[27] Other considerations equally obvious suggested\nthemselves from another quarter. If all change was expressible in\nterms of matter and motion, then gradual change implied interstitial\nmotion, which again involved the necessity of fine pores to serve as\nchannels for the incoming and outgoing molecular streams. Nor, as was\nsupposed, could motion of any kind be conceived without a vacuum,\nthe second great postulate of the atomic theory. Here its advocates\ndirectly joined issue with Parmenides. The chief of the Eleatic school\nhad, as we have seen, presented being under the form of a homogeneous\nsphere, absolutely continuous but limited in extent. Space dissociated\nfrom matter was to him, as afterwards to Aristotle, non-existent and\nimpossible. It was, he exclaimed, inconceivable, nonsensical. Unhappily\ninconceivability is about the worst negative criterion of truth ever\nyet invented. His challenge was now taken up by the Atomists, who\nboldly affirmed that if non-being meant empty space, it was just as\nconceivable and just as necessary as being. A further stimulus may have\nbeen received from the Pythagorean school, whose doctrines had, just\nat this time, been systematised and committed to writing by Philolaus,\nits most eminent disciple. The hard saying that all things were made\nout of number might be explained and confirmed if the integers were\ninterpreted as material atoms.\n\nIt will have been observed that, so far, the merit of originating\natomism has been attributed to Leucippus, instead of to the more\ncelebrated Democritus, with whose name it is usually associated. The\ntwo were fast friends, and seem always to have worked together in\nperfect harmony. But Leucippus, although next to nothing is known of\nhis life, was apparently the older man, and from him, so far as we\ncan make out, emanated the great idea, which his brilliant coadjutor\ncarried into every department of enquiry, and set forth in works\nwhich are a loss to literature as well as to science, for the poetic\nsplendour of their style was not less remarkable than the encyclopaedic\nrange of their contents. Democritus was born at Abd\u00eara, a Thracian\ncity, 470 B.C., a year before Socrates, and lived to a very advanced\nage\u2014more than a hundred, according to some accounts. However this\nmay be, he was probably, like most of his great countrymen, possessed\nof immense vitality. His early manhood was spent in Eastern travel,\nand he was not a little proud of the numerous countries which he had\nvisited, and the learned men with whom he had conversed. His time was\nmostly occupied in observing Nature, and in studying mathematics;\nthe sages of Asia and Egypt may have acquainted him with many useful\nscientific facts, but we have seen that his philosophy was derived from\npurely Hellenic sources. A few fragments of his numerous writings still\nsurvive\u2014the relics of an intellectual Ozymandias. In them are briefly\nshadowed forth the conceptions which Lucretius, or at least his modern\nEnglish interpreters, have made familiar to all educated men and women.\nEverything is the result of mechanical causation. Infinite worlds are\nformed by the collision of infinite atoms falling for ever downward\nthrough infinite space. No place is left for supernatural agency;\nnor are the unaided operations of Nature disguised under Olympian\nappellations. Democritus goes even further than Epicurus in his\nrejection of the popular mythology. His system provides no interstellar\nrefuge for abdicated gods. He attributed a kind of objective existence\nto the apparitions seen in sleep, and even a considerable influence for\ngood or for evil, but denied that they were immortal. The old belief in\na Divine Power had arisen from their activity and from meteorological\nphenomena of an alarming kind, but was destitute of any stronger\nfoundation. For his own part, he looked on the fiery spherical atoms as\na universal reason or soul of the world, without, however, assigning\nto them the distinct and commanding position occupied by a somewhat\nanalogous principle in the system which we now proceed to examine, and\nwith which our survey of early Greek thought will most fitly terminate.\n\n\nV.\n\nReasons have already been suggested for placing Anaxagoras last in\norder among the physical philosophers, notwithstanding his priority in\npoint of age to more than one of them. He was born, according to the\nmost credible accounts, 500 B.C., at Clazomenae, an Ionian city, and\nsettled in Athens when twenty years of age. There he spent much the\ngreater part of a long life, illustrating the type of character which\nEuripides\u2014expressly referring, as is supposed, to the Ionian sage\u2014has\ndescribed in the following choric lines:\n\n    \u2018Happy is he who has learned\n    To search out the secret of things,\n    Not to the townsmen\u2019s bane,\n    Neither for aught that brings\n    An unrighteous gain.\n    But the ageless order he sees\n    Of nature that cannot die,\n    And the causes whence it springs,\n    And the how and the why.\n    Never have thoughts like these\n    To a deed of dishonour been turned.\u2019[28]\n\nThe dishonour was for the townsmen who, in an outbreak of insane\nfanaticism, drove the blameless truthseeker from his adopted home.\nAnaxagoras was the intimate companion of Pericles, and Pericles had\nmade many enemies by his domestic as well as by his foreign policy.\nA coalition of harassed interests and offended prejudices was formed\nagainst him. A cry arose that religion and the constitution were in\ndanger. The Athenians had too much good sense to dismiss their great\ndemocratic Minister, but they permitted the illustrious statesman\u2019s\npolitical opponents to strike at him through his friends.[29] Aspasia\nwas saved only by the tears of her lover. Pheidias, the grandest,\nmost spiritual-minded artist of all time, was arrested on a charge\nof impiety, and died in a prison of the city whose temples were\nadorned with the imperishable monuments of his religious inspiration.\nA decree against \u2018astronomers and atheists\u2019 was so evidently aimed\nat Anaxagoras that the philosopher retired to Lampsacus, where he\ndied at the age of seventy-two, universally admired and revered.\nAltars dedicated to Reason and Truth were erected in his honour, and\nfor centuries his memory continued to be celebrated by an annual\nfeast.[30] His whole existence had been devoted to science. When\nasked what made life worth living, he answered, \u2018The contemplation of\nthe heavens and of the universal cosmic order.\u2019 The reply was like a\ntitle-page to his works. We can see that specialisation was beginning,\nthat the positive sciences were separating themselves from general\ntheories about Nature, and could be cultivated independently of them.\nA single individual might, indeed, combine philosophy of the most\ncomprehensive kind with a detailed enquiry into some particular order\nof phenomena, but he could do this without bringing the two studies\ninto any immediate connexion with each other. Such seems to have been\nthe case with Anaxagoras. He was a professional astronomer and also\nthe author of a modified atomic hypothesis. This, from its greater\ncomplexity, seems more likely to have been suggested by the purely\nquantitative conception of Leucippus than to have preceded it in the\norder of evolution. Democritus, and probably his teacher also, drew a\nvery sharp distinction between what were afterwards called the primary\nand secondary qualities of matter. Extension and resistance alone\nhad a real existence in Nature, while the attributes corresponding\nto our special sensations, such as temperature, taste, and colour,\nwere only subjectively, or, as he expressed it, conventionally true.\nAnaxagoras affirmed no less strongly than his younger contemporaries\nthat the sum of being can neither be increased nor diminished, that\nall things arise and perish by combination and division, and that\nbodies are formed out of indestructible elements; like the Atomists,\nagain, he regarded these elementary substances as infinite in number\nand inconceivably minute; only he considered them as qualitatively\ndistinct, and as resembling on an infinitesimal scale the highest\ncompounds that they build up. Not only were gold, iron, and the other\nmetals formed of homogeneous particles, but such substances as flesh,\nbone, and blood were, according to him, equally simple, equally\ndecomposable, into molecules of like nature with themselves. Thus, as\nAristotle well observes, he reversed the method of Empedocles, and\ntaught that earth, air, fire, and water were really the most complex\nof all bodies, since they supplied nourishment to the living tissues,\nand therefore must contain within themselves the multitudinous variety\nof units by whose aggregation individualised organic substance is\nmade up.[31] Furthermore, our philosopher held that originally this\nintermixture had been still more thoroughgoing, all possible qualities\nbeing simultaneously present in the smallest particles of matter. The\nresulting state of chaotic confusion lasted until Nous, or Reason, came\nand segregated the heterogeneous elements by a process of continuous\ndifferentiation leading up to the present arrangement of things. Both\nPlato and Aristotle have commended Anaxagoras for introducing into\nspeculation the conception of Reason as a cosmic world-ordering power;\nboth have censured him for making so little use of his own great\nthought, for attributing almost everything to secondary, material,\nmechanical causes; for not everywhere applying the teleological method;\nin fact, for not anticipating the Bridgewater Treatises and proving\nthat the world is constructed on a plan of perfect wisdom and goodness.\nLess fortunate than the Athenians, we cannot purchase the work of\nAnaxagoras on Nature at an orchestral book-stall for the moderate price\nof a drachma; but we know enough about its contents to correct the\nsomewhat petulant and superficial criticism of a school perhaps less in\nsympathy than we are with its author\u2019s method of research. Evidently\nthe Clazomenian philosopher did not mean by Reason an ethical force, a\npower which makes for human happiness or virtue, nor yet a reflecting\nintelligence, a designer adapting means to ends. To all appearances the\nNous was not a spirit in the sense which we attach, or which Aristotle\nattached to the term. It was, according to Anaxagoras, the subtlest\nand purest of all things, totally unmixed with other substances, and\ntherefore able to control and bring them into order. This is not how\nmen speak of an immaterial inextended consciousness. The truth is that\nno amount of physical science could create, although it might lead\ntowards a spiritualistic philosophy. Spiritualism first arose from\nthe sophistic negation of an external world, from the exclusive study\nof man, from the Socratic search after general definitions. Yet, if\nNous originally meant intelligence, how could it lose this primary\nsignification and become identified with a mere mode of matter? The\nanswer is, that Anaxagoras, whose whole life was spent in tracing out\nthe order of Nature, would instinctively think of his own intelligence\nas a discriminating, identifying faculty; would, consequently, conceive\nits objective counterpart under the form of a differentiating and\nintegrating power. All preceding thinkers had represented their supreme\nbeing under material conditions, either as one element singly or as a\nsum total where elemental differences were merged. Anaxagoras differed\nfrom them chiefly by the very sharp distinction drawn between his\ninforming principle and the rest of Nature. The absolute intermixture\nof qualities which he presupposes bears a very strong resemblance\nboth to the Sphairos of Empedocles and to the fiery consummation of\nHeracleitus, it may even have been suggested by them. Only, what with\nthem was the highest form of existence becomes with him the lowest;\nthought is asserting itself more and more, and interpreting the law of\nevolution in accordance with its own imperious demands.\n\nA world where ordering reason was not only raised to supreme power,\nbut also jealously secluded from all communion with lower forms of\nexistence, meant to popular imagination a world from which divinity\nhad been withdrawn. The astronomical teaching of Anaxagoras was well\ncalculated to increase a not unfounded alarm. Underlying the local\ntribal mythology of Athens and of Greece generally, was an older,\ndeeper Nature-worship, chiefly directed towards those heavenly\nluminaries which shone so graciously on all men, and to which all\nmen yielded, or were supposed to yield, grateful homage in return.\n_Securus judicat orbis terrarum._ Every Athenian citizen from Nicias to\nStrepsiades would feel his own belief strengthened by such a universal\nconcurrence of authority. Two generations later, Plato held fast to\nthe same conviction, severely denouncing its impugners, whom he would,\nif possible, have silenced with the heaviest penalties. To Aristotle,\nalso, the heavenly bodies were something far more precious and perfect\nthan anything in our sublunary sphere, something to be spoken of\nonly in language of enthusiastic and passionate love. At a far later\nperiod Marcus Aurelius could refer to them as visible gods;[32] and\njust before the final extinction of Paganism highly-educated men still\noffered up their orisons in silence and secresy to the moon.[33]\nJudge, then, with what horror an orthodox public received Anaxagoras\u2019s\nannouncement that the moon shone only by reflected light, that she was\nan earthy body, and that her surface was intersected with mountains and\nravines, besides being partially built over. The bright Sel\u00ean\u00ea, the\nQueen of Heaven, the most interesting and sympathetic of goddesses,\nwhose phases so vividly recalled the course of human life, who was\nfirmly believed to bring fine weather at her return and to take it away\nat her departure, was degraded into a cold, dark, senseless clod.[34]\nDemocritus observed that all this had been known a long time in the\nEastern countries where he had travelled.[C] Possibly; but fathers of\nfamilies could not have been more disturbed if it had been a brand-new\ndiscovery. The sun, too, they were told, was a red-hot stone larger\nthan Peloponnesus\u2014a somewhat unwieldy size even for a Homeric god.\nSocrates, little as he cared about physical investigations generally,\ntook this theory very seriously to heart, and attempted to show by a\nseries of distinctions that sun-heat and fire-heat were essentially\ndifferent from each other. A duller people than the Athenians would\nprobably have shown far less suspicion of scientific innovations. Men\nwho were accustomed to anticipate the arguments of an orator before\nthey were half out of his mouth, with whom the extraction of reluctant\nadmissions by cross-examination was habitually used as a weapon of\nattack and defence in the public law courts and practised as a game in\nprivate circles\u2014who were perpetually on their guard against insidious\nattacks from foreign and domestic foes\u2014had minds ready trained to\nthe work of an inquisitorial priesthood. An Athenian, moreover, had\nmythology at his fingers\u2019 ends; he was accustomed to see its leading\nincidents placed before him on the stage not only with intense realism,\nbut with a systematic adaptation to the demands of common experience\nand a careful concatenation of cause and effect, which gave his belief\nin them all the force of a rational conviction while retaining all the\ncharm of a supernatural creed. Then, again, the constitution of Athens,\nless than that of any other Greek State, could be worked without the\ndevoted, self-denying co-operation of her citizens, and in their\nminds sense of duty was inseparably associated with religious belief,\nbased in its turn on mythological traditions. A great poet has said,\nand said truly, that Athens was \u2018on the will of man as on a mount of\ndiamond set,\u2019 but the crystallising force which gave that collective\nhuman will such clearness and keenness and tenacity was faith in the\nprotecting presence of a diviner Will at whose withdrawal it would have\ncrumbled into dust. Lastly, the Athenians had no genius for natural\nscience; none of them were ever distinguished as savants. They looked\non the new knowledge much as Swift looked on it two thousand years\nafterwards. It was, they thought, a miserable trifling waste of time,\nnot productive of any practical good, breeding conceit in young men,\nand quite unworthy of receiving any attention from orators, soldiers,\nand statesmen. Pericles, indeed, thought differently, but Pericles was\nas much beyond his age when he talked about Nature with Anaxagoras as\nwhen he charged Aspasia with the government of his household and the\nentertainment of his guests.\n\nThese reflections are offered, not in excuse but in explanation of\nAthenian intolerance, a phenomenon for the rest unparalleled in ancient\nGreece. We cannot say that men were then, or ever have been, logically\nobliged to choose between atheism and superstition. If instead of using\nNous as a half-contemptuous nickname for the Clazomenian stranger,[D]\nhis contemporaries had taken the trouble to understand what Nous really\nmeant, they might have found in it the possibility of a deep religious\nsignificance; they might have identified it with all that was best\nand purest in their own guardian goddess Ath\u00ean\u00ea; have recognised it\nas the very foundation of their own most characteristic excellences.\nBut vast spiritual revolutions are not so easily accomplished; and\nwhen, before the lapse of many years, Nous was again presented to the\nAthenian people, this time actually personified as an Athenian citizen,\nit was again misunderstood, again rejected, and became the occasion for\na display of the same persecuting spirit, unhappily pushed to a more\nfatal extreme.\n\nUnder such unfavourable auspices did philosophy find a home in Athens.\nThe great maritime capital had drawn to itself every other species\nof intellectual eminence, and this could not fail to follow with the\nrest. But philosophy, although hitherto identified with mathematical\nand physical science, held unexhausted possibilities of development in\nreserve. According to a well-known legend, Thales once fell into a tank\nwhile absorbed in gazing at the stars. An old woman advised him to look\nat the tank in future, for there he would see the water and the stars\nas well. Others after him had got into similar difficulties, and might\nseek to evade them by a similar artifice. While busied with the study\nof cosmic evolution, they had stumbled unawares on some perplexing\nmental problems. Why do the senses suggest beliefs so much at variance\nwith those arrived at by abstract reasoning? Why should reason be more\ntrustworthy than sense? Why are the foremost Hellenic thinkers so\nhopelessly disagreed? What is the criterion of truth? Of what use are\nconclusions which cannot command universal assent? Or, granting that\ntruth is discoverable, how can it be communicated to others? Such were\nsome of the questions now beginning urgently to press for a solution.\n\u2018I sought for myself,\u2019 said Heracleitus in his oracular style. His\nsuccessors had to do even more\u2014to seek not only for themselves but for\nothers; to study the beliefs, habits, and aptitudes of their hearers\nwith profound sagacity, in order to win admission for the lessons they\nwere striving to impart. And when a systematic investigation of human\nnature had once begun, it could not stop short with a mere analysis\nof the intellectual faculties; what a man did was after all so very\nmuch more important than what he knew, was, in truth, that which alone\ngave his knowledge any practical value whatever. Moral distinctions,\ntoo, were beginning to grow uncertain. When every other traditional\nbelief had been shaken to its foundations, when men were taught to\ndoubt the evidence of their own senses, it was not to be expected that\nthe conventional laws of conduct, at no time very exact or consistent,\nwould continue to be accepted on the authority of ancient usage.\nThus, every kind of determining influences, internal and external,\nconspired to divert philosophy from the path which it had hitherto\npursued, and to change it from an objective, theoretical study into an\nintrospective, dialectic, practical discipline.\n\n\nVI.\n\nAnd now, looking back at the whole course of early Greek thought,\npresenting as it does a gradual development and an organic unity\nwhich prove it to be truly a native growth, a spontaneous product\nof the Greek mind, let us take one step further and enquire whether\nbefore the birth of pure speculation, or parallel with but apart from\nits rudimentary efforts, there were not certain tendencies displayed\nin the other great departments of intellectual activity, fixed forms\nas it were in which the Hellenic genius was compelled to work, which\nreproduce themselves in philosophy and determine its distinguishing\ncharacteristics. Although the materials for a complete Greek ethology\nare no longer extant, it can be shown that such tendencies did actually\nexist.\n\nIt is a familiar fact, first brought to light by Lessing, and\ngeneralised by him into a law of all good literary composition, that\nHomer always throws his descriptions into a narrative form. We are not\ntold what a hero wore, but how he put on his armour; when attention is\ndrawn to a particular object we are made acquainted with its origin\nand past history; even the reliefs on a shield are invested with life\nand movement. Homer was not impelled to adopt this method either by\nconscious reflection or by a profound poetic instinct. At a certain\nstage of intellectual development, every Greek would find it far easier\nto arrange the data of experience in successive than in contemporaneous\norder; the one is fixed, the other admits of indefinite variation.\nPictorial and plastic art also begin with serial presentations, and\nonly arrive at the construction of large centralised groups much later\non. We have next to observe that, while Greek reflection at first\nfollowed the order of time, it turned by preference not to present or\nfuture, but to past time. Nothing in Hellenic literature reminds us of\nHebrew prophecy. To a Greek all distinct prevision was merged in the\ngloom of coming death or the glory of anticipated fame. Of course, at\nevery great crisis of the national fortunes much curiosity prevailed\namong the vulgar as to what course events would take; but it was\nsedulously discouraged by the noblest minds. Herodotus and Sophocles\nlook on even divine predictions as purposely ambiguous and misleading.\nPindar often dwells on the hopeless uncertainty of life.[35] Thucydides\ntreats all vaticination as utterly delusive. So, when a belief in\nthe soul\u2019s separate existence first obtained acceptance among the\nGreeks, it interested them far less as a pledge of never-ending life\nand progress hereafter, than as involving a possible revelation of\npast history, of the wondrous adventures which each individual had\npassed through before assuming his present form. Hence the peculiar\nforce of Pindar\u2019s congratulation to the partaker in the Eleusinian\nmysteries; after death he knows not only \u2018the end of life,\u2019 but also\n\u2018its god-given beginning.\u2019[36] Even the present was not intelligible\nuntil it had been projected back into the past, or interpreted by the\nlight of some ancient tale. Sappho, in her famous ode to Aphrodit\u00ea,\nrecalls the incidents of a former passion precisely similar to the\nunrequited love which now agitates her heart, and describes at length\nhow the goddess then came to her relief as she is now implored to come\nagain. Modern critics have spoken of this curious literary artifice as\na sign of delicacy and reserve. We may be sure that Sappho was an utter\nstranger to such feelings; she ran her thoughts into a predetermined\nmould just as a bee builds its wax into hexagonal cells. Curtius,\nthe German historian, has surmised with much plausibility that the\nentire legend of Troy owes its origin to this habit of throwing back\ncontemporary events into a distant past. According to his view, the\ncharacters and scenes recorded by Homer, although unhistorical as\nthey now stand, had really a place in the Achaean colonisation of\nAsia Minor.[37] But, apart from any disguised allusions, old stories\nhad an inexhaustible charm for the Greek imagination. Even during the\nstirring events of the Peloponnesian war, elderly Athenian citizens\nin their hours of relaxation talked of nothing but mythology.[38] When\na knowledge of reading became universally diffused, and books could\nbe had at a moderate price, ancient legends seem to have been the\nfavourite literature of the lower classes, just as among ourselves in\nCaxton\u2019s time. Still more must the same taste have prevailed a century\nearlier. A student who opens Pindar\u2019s epinician odes for the first\ntime is surprised to find so little about the victorious combatants\nand the struggles in which they took part, so much about mythical\nadventures seemingly unconnected with the ostensible subject of the\npoem. Furthermore, we find that genealogies were the framework by which\nthese distant recollections were held together. Most noble families\ntraced their descent back to a god or to a god-like hero. The entire\ninterval separating the historical period from the heroic age was\nfilled up with more or less fictitious pedigrees. A man\u2019s ancestry\nwas much the most important part of his biography. It is likely that\nHerodotus had just as enthusiastic an admiration as we can have for\nLeonidas. Yet one fancies that a historian of later date would have\nshown his appreciation of the Spartan king in a rather different\nfashion. We should have been told something about the hero\u2019s personal\nappearance, and perhaps some characteristic incidents from his earlier\ncareer would have been related. Not so with Herodotus. He pauses in\nthe story of Thermopylae to give us the genealogy of Leonidas up to\nHeracl\u00eas; no more and no less. That was the highest compliment he could\npay, and it is repeated for Pausanias, the victor of Plataea.[39] The\ngenealogical method was capable of wide extension, and could be applied\nto other than human or animal relationships. Hesiod\u2019s Theogony is a\ngenealogy of heaven and earth, and all that in them is. According to\nAeschylus, gain is bred from gain, slaughter from slaughter, woe from\nwoe. Insolence bears a child like unto herself, and this in turn gives\nbirth to a still more fatal progeny.[40] The same poet terminates his\nenumeration of the flaming signals that sped the message of victory\nfrom Troy to Argos, by describing the last beacon as \u2018not ungrandsired\nby the Idaean fire.\u2019[41] Now, when the Greek genius had begun to move\nin any direction, it rushed forward without pausing until arrested by\nan impassable limit, and then turned back to retraverse at leisure\nthe whole interval separating that limit from its point of departure.\nThus, the ascending lines of ancestry were followed up until they led\nto a common father of all; every series of outrages was traced through\nsuccessive reprisals back to an initial crime; and more generally every\nevent was affiliated to a preceding event, until the whole chain had\nbeen attached to an ultimate self-existing cause. Hence the records\nof origination, invention, spontaneity were long sought after with\nan eagerness which threw almost every other interest into the shade.\n\u2018Glory be to the inventor,\u2019 sings Pindar, in his address to victorious\nCorinth; \u2018whence came the graces of the dithyrambic hymn, who first\nset the double eagle on the temples of the gods?\u2019[42] The _Prometheus_\nof Aeschylus tells how civilisation began, and the trilogy to which it\nbelongs was probably intended to show how the supremacy of Zeus was\nfirst established and secured. A great part of the _Agamemnon_ deals\nwith events long anterior to the opening of the drama, but connected\nas ultimate causes with the terrible catastrophe which it represents.\nIn the _Eumenides_ we see how the family, as it now exists, was first\nconstituted by the substitution of paternal for maternal headship, and\nalso how the worship of the Avenging Goddesses was first introduced\ninto Athens, as well as how the Areopagite tribunal was founded. It\nis very probable that Sophocles\u2019s earliest work, the _Triptolemus_,\nrepresented the origin of agriculture under a dramatic form; and if\nthe same poet\u2019s later pieces, as well as all those of Euripides,\nstand on quite different ground, occupied as they are with subjects of\ncontemporaneous, or rather of eternal interest, we must regard this\nas a proof that the whole current of Greek thought had taken a new\ndirection, corresponding to that simultaneously impressed on philosophy\nby Socrates and the Sophists. We may note further that the Aeginetan\nsculptures, executed soon after Salamis, though evidently intended to\ncommemorate that victory, represent a conflict waged long before by\nthe tutelary heroes of Aegina against an Asiatic foe. We may also see\nin our own British Museum how the birth of Ath\u00ean\u00ea was recorded in a\nmarble group on one pediment of the Parthenon, and the foundation of\nher chosen city on the other. The very temple which these majestic\nsculptures once adorned was a petrified memorial of antiquity, and,\nby the mere form of its architecture, must have carried back men\u2019s\nthoughts to the earliest Hellenic habitation, the simple structure in\nwhich a gabled roof was supported by cross-beams on a row of upright\nwooden posts.\n\nTurning back once more from art and literature to philosophy, is\nit not abundantly clear that if the Greeks speculated at all, they\nmust at first have speculated according to some such method as that\nwhich history proves them to have actually followed? They must have\nbegun by fixing their thoughts, as Thales and his successors did, on\nthe world\u2019s remotest past; they must have sought for a first cause\nof things, and conceived it, not as any spiritual power, but as a\nkind of natural ancestor homogeneous with the forms which issued\nfrom it, although greater and more comprehensive than they were; in\nshort, as an elemental body\u2014water, air, fire, or, more vaguely, as\nan infinite substance. Did not the steady concatenation of cause and\neffect resemble the unrolling of a heroic genealogy? And did not the\nreabsorption of every individual existence in a larger whole translate\ninto more general terms that subordination of personal to family and\ncivic glory which is the diapason of Pindar\u2019s music?\n\nNor was this all. Before philosophising, the Greeks did not think only\nin the order of time; they learned at a very early period to think\nalso in the order of space, their favourite idea of a limit being\nmade especially prominent here. Homer\u2019s geographical notions, however\nerroneous, are, for his age, singularly well defined. Aeschylus has a\nwide knowledge of the earth\u2019s surface, and exhibits it with perhaps\nunnecessary readiness. Pindar delights to follow his mythological\nheroes about on their travels. The same tendency found still freer\nscope when prose literature began. Hecataeus, one of the earliest\nprose-writers, was great both as a genealogist and as a geographer;\nand in this respect also Herodotus carried out on a great scale the\nenquiries most habitually pursued by his countrymen. Now, it will be\nremembered that we have had occasion to characterise early Ionian\nspeculation as being, to a great extent, cosmography. The element from\nwhich it deduced all things was, in fact, that which was supposed to\nlie outside and embrace the rest. The geographical limit was conceived\nas a genealogical ancestor. Thus, the studies which men like Hecataeus\ncarried on separately, were combined, or rather confused, in a single\nbold generalisation by Anaximenes and Heracleitus.\n\nYet, however much may be accounted for by these considerations, they\nstill leave something unexplained. Why should one thinker after\nanother so unhesitatingly assume that the order of Nature as we know\nit has issued not merely from a different but from an exactly opposite\ncondition, from universal confusion and chaos? Their experience was\nfar too limited to tell them anything about those vast cosmic changes\nwhich we know by incontrovertible evidence to have already occurred,\nand to be again in course of preparation. We can only answer this\nquestion by bringing into view what may be called the negative moment\nof Greek thought. The science of contraries is one, says Aristotle, and\nit certainly was so to his countrymen. Not only did they delight to\nbring together the extremes of weal and woe, of pride and abasement,\nof security and disaster, but whatever they most loved and clung to in\nreality seemed to interest their imagination most powerfully by its\nremoval, its reversal, or its overthrow. The Athenians were peculiarly\nintolerant of regal government and of feminine interference in\npolitics. In Athenian tragedy the principal actors are kings and royal\nladies. The Athenian matrons occupied a position of exceptional dignity\nand seclusion. They are brought upon the comic stage to be covered with\nthe coarsest ridicule, and also to interfere decisively in the conduct\nof public affairs. Aristophanes was profoundly religious himself, and\nwrote for a people whose religion, as we have seen, was pushed to\nthe extreme of bigotry. Yet he shows as little respect for the gods\nas for the wives and sisters of his audience. To take a more general\nexample still, the whole Greek tragic drama is based on the idea of\nfamily kinship, and that institution was made most interesting to Greek\nspectators by the violation of its eternal sanctities, by unnatural\nhatred, and still more unnatural love; or by a fatal misconception\nwhich causes the hands of innocent persons, more especially of tender\nwomen, to be armed against their nearest and dearest relatives in\nutter unconsciousness of the awful guilt about to be incurred. By an\nextension of the same psychological law to abstract speculation we are\nenabled to understand how an early Greek philosopher who had come to\nlook on Nature as a cosmos, an orderly whole, consisting of diverse but\nconnected and interdependent parts, could not properly grasp such a\nconception until he had substituted for it one of a precisely opposite\ncharacter, out of which he reconstructed it by a process of gradual\nevolution. And if it is asked how in the first place did he come by the\nidea of a cosmos, our answer must be that he found it in Greek life,\nin societies distinguished by a many-sided but harmonious development\nof concurrent functions, and by voluntary obedience to an impersonal\nlaw. Thus, then, the circle is complete; we have returned to our point\nof departure, and again recognise in Greek philosophy a systematised\nexpression of the Greek national genius.\n\nWe must now bring this long and complicated, but it is hoped not\nuninteresting, study to a close. We have accompanied philosophy to a\npoint where it enters on a new field, and embraces themes sufficiently\nimportant to form the subject of a separate chapter. The contributions\nmade by its first cultivators to our positive knowledge have already\nbeen summarised. It remains to mention that there was nothing of a\ntruly transcendental character about their speculations. Whatever\nextension we may give to that terrible bugbear, the Unknowable, they\ndid not trespass on its domain. Heracleitus and his compeers, while\npenetrating far beyond the horizon of their age and country, kept very\nnearly within the limits of a possible experience. They confused some\nconceptions which we have learned to distinguish, and separated others\nwhich we have learned to combine; but they were the lineal progenitors\nof our highest scientific thought; and they first broke ground on a\npath where we must continue to advance, if the cosmos which they won\nfor us is not to be let lapse into chaos and darkness again.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[5] Plato, _Rep._ IV., 435, E; Aristotle, _Pol._ VII., 1327, b., 29.\n\n[6] _Nem._ III. 40-42. (Donaldson.)\n\n[7] _Nem._ VI. _sub in._\n\n[8] The word differentiation (\u1f11\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03af\u03c9\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2) seems to have been first used\nby Diogenes Apolloniates. Simpl. _Phys._ fol. 326 ff., quoted by Ritter\nand Preller, _Hist. Phil._, p. 126 (6th ed.)\n\n[9] Ritter and Preller, p. 112.\n\n[10] Ritter and Preller p. 8.\n\n[11] _Die Philosophie der Griechen_, I. p. 401 (3rd ed.)\n\n[12] Ritter and Preller, p. 54.\n\n[13] Ritter and Preller, p. 54.\n\n[14] _Ib._\n\n[15] _Metaph._ I. v.\n\n[16] Ritter and Preller, p. 63.\n\n[17] _Op. cit._ p. 475.\n\n[18] The tendency which it has been attempted to characterise as a\nfundamental moment of Greek thought can only be called analytical in\ndefault of a better word. It is a process by which two related terms\nare at once parted and joined together by the insertion of one or\nmore intermediary links; as, for instance, when a capital is inserted\nbetween column and architrave, or when a proposition is demonstrated by\nthe interposition of a middle term between its subject and predicate.\nThe German words Vermitteln and Vermittelung express what is meant with\nsufficient exactitude. They play a great part in Hegel\u2019s philosophy,\nand it will be remembered that Hegel was the most Hellenic of modern\nthinkers. So understood, there will cease to be any contradiction\nbetween the Eleates and Greek thought generally, at least from one\npoint of view, as their object was to fill up the vacant spaces\nsupposed to separate one mode of existence from another.\n\n[19] Ritter and Preller, p. 62.\n\n[20] For the originals of this and the succeeding quotations from\nHeracleitus, see Ritter and Preller, pp. 14-23.\n\n[21] \u03a4\u1fc7 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f21\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03af\u1fb3 \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f62\u03bd, \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f14\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f55\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2. _Metaph._ I.\niii.\n\n[22] Ritter and Preller, p. 90.\n\n[23] Prantl, _Aristoteles\u2019 Physik_, p. 484.\n\n[24] Ritter and Preller, p. 11.\n\n[25] Since the above remarks were first published, Mr. Wallace, in\nhis work on Epicureanism, has stated that, according to Epicurus,\n\u2018the very animals which are found upon the earth have been made what\nthey are by slow processes of selection and adaptation through the\nexperience of life;\u2019 and he proceeds to call the theory in question,\n\u2018ultra-Darwinian\u2019 (_Epicureanism_, p. 114). Lucretius\u2014the authority\nquoted\u2014says nothing about \u2018slow processes of adaptation,\u2019 nor yet does\nhe say that the animals were \u2018made what they are\u2019 by \u2018selection,\u2019 but\nby the procreative power of the earth herself. Picking out a ready-made\npair of boots from among a number which do not fit is a very different\nprocess from manufacturing the same pair by measure, or wearing it into\nshape. To call the Empedoclean theory ultra-Darwinian, is like calling\nthe Democritean or Epicurean theory of gravitation ultra-Newtonian. And\nMr. Wallace seems to admit as much, when he proceeds to say on the very\nsame page, \u2018Of course in this there is no implication of the peculiarly\nDarwinian doctrine of descent or development of kind from kind with\nstructure modified and complicated to meet changing circumstances.\u2019\n(By the way, this is _not_ a peculiarly Darwinian doctrine, for it\noriginated with Lamarck, spontaneous variation and selection being the\nadditions made by the English naturalists). But what becomes then of\nthe \u2018slow processes of adaptation\u2019 and the \u2018ultra-Darwinian theory\u2019\nspoken of just before?\n\n[26] By a curious coincidence, the atomic constitution of matter still\nfinds its strongest proof in optical phenomena. Light is propagated by\ntransverse waves, and such waves are only possible in a discontinuous\nmedium. But if the luminiferous ether is composed of discrete\nparticles, so also must be the matter which it penetrates in all\ndirections.\n\n[27] Ar. _De Gen. et Corr._, I., viii., 325, b, 5.\n\n[28] Eurip. _Frag. Incert. Fab._, CXXXVI. Didot, p. 850. [I am indebted\nfor this version to Miss A. M. F. Robinson, the translator of the\n_Crowned Hippolytus_.]\n\n[29] Curtius, _Griechische Geschichte_, 342-5 (3rd ed.).\n\n[30] Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 791.\n\n[31] Ar. _De Coelo_, III., iii., 302, a, 28.\n\n[32] M. Antoninus, XII., 28.\n\n[33] Zeller, _Ph. d. Gr._, III., b, p. 669.\n\n[34] Even regulating the calendar by the sun instead of by the moon\nseems to have been regarded as a dangerous and impious innovation by\nthe more conservative Athenians\u2014at least judging from the half-serious\npleasantry of Aristophanes, _Nub._, 608-26. (Dindorf.)\n\n[35] \u03c3\u03cd\u03bc\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f54 \u03c0\u03ce \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c7\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03c9\u03bd\n     \u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f00\u03bc\u03c6\u1f76 \u03c0\u03c1\u03ac\u03be\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c3\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f57\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd.\u2014_Ol._, XII., 8-9.\n\n[36] _Frag._, 102.\n\n[37] _Griechische Geschichte_, ii., 112-3 (3rd ed.).\n\n[38] Aristophanes, _Vesp._, 1176.\n\n[39] Herod., VII., 204; IX., 64.\n\n[40] _Agam._, 750-71.\n\n[41] _Ib._, 311.\n\n[42] _Ol._, XIII., 17 (Donaldson).\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nTHE GREEK HUMANISTS: NATURE AND LAW.\n\n\nI.\n\nIn the preceding chapter we traced the rise and progress of physical\nphilosophy among the ancient Greeks. We showed how a few great\nthinkers, borne on by an unparalleled development of intellectual\nactivity, worked out ideas respecting the order of nature and the\nconstitution of matter which, after more than two thousand years, still\nremain as fresh and fruitful as ever; and we found that, in achieving\nthese results, Greek thought was itself determined by ascertainable\nlaws. Whether controlling artistic imagination or penetrating to the\nobjective truth of things, it remained always essentially homogeneous,\nand worked under the same forms of circumscription, analysis, and\nopposition. It began with external nature, and with a far distant past;\nnor could it begin otherwise, for only so could the subjects of its\nlater meditations be reached. Only after less sacred beliefs have been\nshaken can ethical dogmas be questioned. Only when discrepancies of\nopinion obtrude themselves on man\u2019s notice is the need of an organising\nlogic experienced. And the mind\u2019s eye, originally focussed for distant\nobjects alone, has to be gradually restricted in its range by the\npressure of accumulated experience before it can turn from past to\npresent, from successive to contemporaneous phenomena. We have now to\nundertake the not less interesting task of showing how the new culture,\nthe new conceptions, the new power to think obtained through those\nearliest speculations, reacted on the life from which they sprang,\ntransforming the moral, religious, and political creeds of Hellas, and\npreparing, as nothing else could prepare, the vaster revolution which\nhas given a new dignity to existence, and substituted, in however\nimperfect a form, for the adoration of animalisms which lie below man,\nthe adoration of an ideal which rises above him, but only personifies\nthe best elements of his own nature, and therefore is possible for a\nperfected humanity to realise.\n\nWhile most educated persons will admit that the Greeks are our masters\nin science and literature, in politics and art, some even among those\nwho are free from theological prejudices will not be prepared to grant\nthat the principles which claim to guide our conduct are only a wider\nextension or a more specific application of Greek ethical teaching.\nHebraism has been opposed to Hellenism as the educating power whence\nour love of righteousness is derived, and which alone prevents the\nfoul orgies of a primitive nature-worship from being still celebrated\nin the midst of our modern civilisation. And many look on old Roman\nreligion as embodying a sense of duty higher than any bequeathed\nto us by Greece. The Greeks have, indeed, suffered seriously from\ntheir own sincerity. Their literature is a perfect image of their\nlife, reflecting every blot and every flaw, unveiled, uncoloured,\nundisguised. It was, most fortunately, never subjected to the revision\nof a jealous priesthood, bent on removing every symptom inconsistent\nwith the hypothesis of a domination exercised by themselves through\nall the past. Nor yet has their history been systematically falsified\nto prove that they never wrongfully attacked a neighbour, and were\ninvariably obliged to conquer in self-defence. Still, even taking\nthe records as they stand, it is to Greek rather than to Hebrew or\nRoman annals that we must look for examples of true virtue; and in\nGreek literature, earlier than in any other, occur precepts like\nthose which are now held to be most distinctively characteristic of\nChristian ethics. Let us never forget that only by Stoical teaching\nwas the narrow and cruel formalism of ancient Roman law elevated into\nthe \u2018written reason\u2019 of the imperial jurists; only after receiving\nsuccessive infiltrations of Greek thought was the ethnic monotheism of\nJudaea expanded into a cosmopolitan religion. Our popular theologians\nare ready enough to admit that Hellenism was providentially the means\nof giving Christianity a world-wide diffusion; they ignore the fact\nthat it gave the new faith not only wings to fly, but also eyes to\nsee and a soul to love. From very early times there was an intuition\nof humanity in Hellas which only needed dialectical development to\nbecome an all-sufficient law of life. Homer sympathises ardently with\nhis own countrymen, but he never vilifies their enemies. He did not,\nnor did any Greek, invent impure legends to account for the origin of\nhostile tribes whose kinship could not be disowned; unlike Samuel, he\nregards the sacrifice of prisoners with unmixed abhorrence. What would\nhe, whose Odysseus will not allow a shout of triumph to be raised\nover the fallen, have said to Deborah\u2019s exultation at the murder of a\nsuppliant fugitive? Courage was, indeed, with him the highest virtue,\nand Greek literature abounds in martial spirit-stirring tones, but\nit is nearly always by the necessities of self-defence that this\nenthusiasm is invoked; with Pindar and Simonides, with Aeschylus and\nSophocles, it is resistance to an invader that we find so proudly\ncommemorated; and the victories which make Greek history so glorious\nwere won in fighting to repel an unjust aggression perpetrated either\nby the barbarians or by a tyrant state among the Greeks themselves.\nThere was, as will be shown hereafter, an unhappy period when right was\neither denied, or, what comes to the same thing, identified with might;\nbut this offensive paradox only served to waken true morality into a\nmore vivid self-consciousness, and into the felt need of discovering\nfor itself a stronger foundation than usage and tradition, a loftier\nsanction than mere worldly success could afford. The most universal\nprinciple of justice, to treat others as we should wish to be treated\nourselves, seems before the Rabbi Hillel\u2019s time to have become almost\na common-place of Greek ethics;[43] difficulties left unsolved by the\nBook of Job were raised to a higher level by Greek philosophy; and long\nbefore St. Paul, a Plato reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and\njudgment to come.\n\nNo one will deny that the life of the Greeks was stained with foul\nvices, and that their theory sometimes fell to the level of their\npractice. No one who believes that moral truth, like all truth, has\nbeen gradually discovered, will wonder at this phenomenon. If moral\nconduct is a function of social life, then, like other functions, it\nwill be subject, not only to growth, but also to disease and decay. An\nintense and rapid intellectual development may have for its condition\na totally abnormal state of society, where certain vices, unknown to\nruder ages, spring up and flourish with rank luxuriance. When men have\nto take women along with them on every new path of enquiry, progress\nwill be considerably retarded, although its benefits will ultimately\nbe shared among a greater number, and will be better insured against\nthe danger of a violent reaction. But the work that Hellas was\ncommissioned to perform could not wait; it had to be accomplished in\na few generations, or not at all. The barbarians were forcing their\nway in on every side, not merely with the weight of invading armies,\nbut with the deadlier pressure of a benumbing superstition, with the\nbrute-worship of Egypt and the devil-worship of Phoenicia, with their\ndelirious orgies, their mutilations, their crucifixions, and their\ngladiatorial contests. Already in the later dramas of Euripides and\nin the Rhodian school of sculpture, we see the awful shadow coming\nnearer, and feel the poisonous breath of Asia on our faces. Reason,\nthe reason by which these terrors have been for ever exorcised, could\nonly arrive at maturity under the influence of free and uninterrupted\ndiscussion carried on by men among themselves in the gymnasium, the\nagora, the eccl\u00easia, and the dicastery. The resulting and inevitable\nseparation of the sexes bred frightful disorders, which through all\nchanges of creed have clung like a moral pestilence to the shores of\nthe Aegean, and have helped to complicate political problems by joining\nto religious hatred the fiercer animosity of physical disgust. But\nwhatever were the corruptions of Greek sentiment, Greek philosophy had\nthe power to purge them away. \u2018Follow nature\u2019 became the watchword\nof one school after another; and a precept which at first may have\nmeant only that man should not fall below the brutes, was finally\nso interpreted as to imply an absolute control of sense by reason.\nNo loftier standard of sexual purity has ever been inculcated than\nthat fixed by Plato in his latest work, the _Laws_. Isocrates bids\nhusbands set an example of conjugal fidelity to their wives. Socrates\nhad already declared that virtue was the same for both sexes. Xenophon\ninterests himself in the education of women. Plato would give them the\nsame training, and everywhere associate them in the same functions with\nmen. Equally decisive evidence of a theoretical opposition to slavery\nis not forthcoming, and we know that it was unfortunately sanctioned by\nPlato and Aristotle, in this respect no better inspired than the early\nChristians; nevertheless, the germ of such an opposition existed, and\nwill hereafter be pointed out.\n\nIt has been said that the Greeks only worshipped beauty; that they\ncultivated morality from the aesthetic side; that virtue was with\nthem a question, not of duty, but of taste. Some very strong texts\nmight be quoted in support of this judgment. For example, we find\nIsocrates saying, in his encomium on Helen, that \u2018Beauty is the first\nof all things in majesty, and honour, and divineness. It is easy to\nsee its power: there are many things which have no share of courage,\nor wisdom, or justice, which yet will be found honoured above things\nwhich have each of these, but nothing which is devoid of beauty is\nprized; all things are scorned which have not been given their part of\nthat attribute; the admiration for virtue itself comes to this, that\nof all manifestations of life virtue is the most _beautiful_.\u2019[44] And\nAristotle distinguishes the highest courage as willingness to die for\nthe \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03bd. So also Plato describes philosophy as a love \u2018that leads\none from fair forms to fair practices, and from fair practices to fair\nnotions, until from fair notions he arrives at the notion of absolute\nbeauty, and at last knows what the essence of beauty is. And this is\nthat life beyond all others which man should live in the contemplation\nof beauty absolute.\u2019[45] Now, first of all, we must observe that, while\nloveliness has been worshipped by many others, none have conceived\nit under a form so worthy of worship as the Greeks. Beauty with them\nwas neither little, nor fragile, nor voluptuous; the soul\u2019s energies\nwere not relaxed but exalted by its contemplation; there was in it an\nelement of austere and commanding dignity. The Argive H\u00ear\u00ea, though\nrevealed to us only through a softened Italian copy, has more divinity\nin her countenance than any Madonna of them all; and the Melian\nAphrodit\u00ea is distinguished by majesty of form not less than by purity\nand sweetness of expression. This beauty was the unreserved information\nof matter by mind, the visible rendering of absolute power, wisdom,\nand goodness. Therefore, what a Greek worshipped was the perpetual\nand ever-present energising of mind; but he forgot that beauty can\nonly exist as a combination of spirit with sense; and, after detaching\nthe higher element, he continued to call it by names and clothe it\nin attributes proper to its earthly manifestations alone. Yet such\nan extension of the aesthetic sentiment involved no weakening of the\nmoral fibre. A service comprehending all idealisms in one demanded the\nself-effacement of a laborious preparation and the self-restraint of\na gradual achievement. They who pitched the goal of their aspiration\nso high, knew that the paths leading up to it were rough, and steep,\nand long; they felt that perfect workmanship and perfect taste, being\nsupremely precious, must be supremely difficult as well; \u03c7\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u03c0\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f70\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ac they said, the beautiful is hard\u2014hard to judge, hard to win,\nand hard to keep. He who has passed through that stern discipline\nneed tremble at no other task; nor has duty anything to fear from a\ncompanionship whose ultimate requirements are coincident with her own,\nand the abandonment of which for a joyless asceticism can only lead to\nthe reappearance as an invading army of forces that should have been\ncherished as indispensable allies.\n\nIt may be urged that beauty, however difficult of attainment or severe\nin form, is, after all, essentially superficial; and that a morality\nelaborated on the same principles will be equally superficial\u2014will,\nin fact, be little more than the art of keeping up appearances, of\ndisplaying fine sentiments, of avoiding those actions the consequences\nof which are immediately felt to be disagreeable, and, above all, of\nnot needlessly wounding anyone\u2019s sensibilities. Such an imitation of\nmorality\u2014which it would be a mistake to call hypocrisy\u2014has no doubt\nbeen common enough among all civilised nations; but there is no reason\nto believe that it was in any way favoured by the circumstances of\nGreek life. There is even evidence of a contrary tendency, as, indeed,\nmight be expected among a people whose most important states were saved\nfrom the corrupting influences of a court. Where the sympathetic\nadmiration of shallow and excitable spectators is the effect chiefly\nsought after, the showy virtues will be preferred to the solid, and the\nappearance to the reality of all virtue; while brilliant and popular\nqualities will be allowed to atone for the most atrocious crimes.\nBut, among the Greeks of the best period, courage and generosity rank\ndistinctly lower than temperance and justice; their poets and moralists\nalike inculcate the preference of substance to show; and in no single\ninstance, so far as we can judge, did they, as modern nations often do,\nfor the sake of great achievements condone great wrongs. It was said of\na Greek and by a Greek that he did not wish to seem but to be just.[46]\nWe follow the judgment of the Greeks themselves in preferring Leonidas\nto Pausanias, Aristeides to Themistocles, and Socrates to Alcibiades.\nAnd we need only compare Epameinondas with David or Pericles with\nSolomon as national heroes, to perceive at once how much nearer the two\nGreeks come to our own standard of perfection, and how futile are the\ncharges sometimes brought against those from whose traditions we have\ninherited their august and stainless fame.\n\nMoreover, we have not here to consider what was the average level\nof sentiment and practice among the Greeks; we have to study what\nalone was of importance for the races which came under their tuition,\nand that is the highest moral judgment to which they rose. Now, the\ndeliberate verdict of their philosophy on the relation between beauty\nand virtue is contained in the following passage from Plato\u2019s _Laws_:\u2014\n\n \u2018When anyone prefers beauty to virtue, what is this but the real and\n utter dishonour of the soul? For such a preference implies that the\n body is more honourable than the soul; and this is false, for there is\n nothing of earthly birth which is more honourable than the heavenly,\n and he who thinks otherwise of the soul has no idea how greatly he\n undervalues this wonderful possession.\u2019[47]\n\n\nII.\n\nThus much for the current prejudices which seemed likely to interfere\nwith a favourable consideration of our subject. We have next to study\nthe conditions by which the form of Greek ethical philosophy was\noriginally determined. Foremost among these must be placed the moral\nconceptions already current long before systematic reflection could\nbegin. What they were may be partly gathered from some wise saws\nattributed by the Greeks themselves to their Seven Sages, but probably\ncurrent at a much earlier period. The pith of these maxims, taken\ncollectively, is to recommend the qualities attributed by our own\nphilosophic poet to his perfect woman:\u2014\n\n    \u2018The reason firm, the temperate will,\n    Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill.\u2019\n\nWe may say almost as briefly that they inculcate complete independence\nboth of our own passions and of external circumstances, with a\ncorresponding respect for the independence of others, to be shown by\nusing persuasion instead of force. Their tone will perhaps be best\nunderstood by contrast with that collection of Hebrew proverbs which\nhas come down to us under the name of Solomon, but which Biblical\ncritics now attribute to a later period and a divided authorship. While\nthese regularly put forward material prosperity as the chief motive to\ngood conduct, Hellenic wisdom teaches indifference to the variations of\nfortune. To a Greek, \u2018the power that makes for righteousness,\u2019 so far\nfrom being, \u2018not ourselves,\u2019 was our own truest self, the far-seeing\nreason which should guard us from elation and from depression, from\npassion and from surprise. Instead of being offered old age as a\nreward, we are told to be equally prepared for a long and for a short\nlife.\n\nTwo precepts stand out before all others, which, trivial as they\nmay seem, are uttered from the very soul of Greek experience, \u2018Be\nmoderate,\u2019 and, \u2018Know thyself.\u2019 Their joint observance constitutes the\ncharacteristic virtue of S\u00f4phrosyn\u00ea, which means all that we understand\nby temperance, and a great deal more besides; so much, in fact, that\nvery clever Greeks were hard set to define it, and very wise Greeks\ncould pray for it as the fairest gift of the gods.[48] Let us suppose\nthat each individual has a sphere of activity marked out for him by\nhis own nature and his special environment; then to discern clearly\nthe limits of that sphere and to keep within them would be S\u00f4phrosyn\u00ea,\nwhile the discernment, taken alone, would be wisdom. The same\nself-restraint operating as a check on interference with other spheres\nwould be justice; while the expansive force by which a man fills up\nhis entire sphere and guards it against aggressions may be called\ncourage. Thus we are enabled to comprehend the many-sided significance\nof S\u00f4phrosyn\u00ea, to see how it could stand both for a particular virtue\nand for all virtuousness whatever. We need only glance at Homer\u2019s\npoems, and in particular at the _Iliad_\u2014a much deeper as well as a\nmore brilliant work than the _Odyssey_\u2014to perceive how very early this\ndemand for moderation combined with self-knowledge had embodied itself\nin Greek thought. Agamemnon violates the rights of Achilles under the\ninfluence of immoderate passion, and through ignorance of how little\nwe can accomplish without the hero\u2019s assistance. Achilles, again,\ncarries his vindictiveness too far, and suffers in consequence. But\nhis self-knowledge is absolutely perfect; conscious that he is first\nin the field while others are better in council, he never undertakes\na task to which his powers are not fully adequate; nor does he enter\non his final work of vengeance without a clear consciousness of the\nspeedy death which its completion will entail on himself. Hector,\ntoo, notwithstanding ominous forebodings, knows his duty and does it,\nbut with much less just an estimate of his own powers, leading him to\npursue his success too far, and then, when the tide has turned, not\npermitting him to make a timely retreat within the walls of Troy. So\nwith the secondary characters. Patroclus also oversteps the limits\nof moderation, and pays the penalty with his life. Diomed silently\nbears the unmerited rebuke of Agamemnon, but afterwards recalls it at\na most effective moment, when rising to oppose the craven counsels\nof the great king. This the Greeks called observing opportunity,\nand opportunism was with them, as with French politicians, a form\nof moderation.[49] Down at the very bottom of the scale Thersites\nand Dolon are signal examples of men who do not know their sphere\nand suffer for their folly. In the _Odyssey_, Odysseus is a nearly\nperfect type of wisdom joined with self-control, erring, if we remember\nrightly, only once, when he insults Polyphemus before the ship is out\nof danger; while his comrades perish from want of these same gifts.\n\nSo far, virtue was with the Greeks what it must inevitably be with\nall men at first, chiefly self-regarding, a refined form of prudence.\nMoreover, other-regarding virtues gave less scope for reflection, being\noriginally comprehended under obedience to the law. But there were\ntwo circumstances which could not long escape their notice; first,\nthat fraud and violence are often, at least apparently, profitable to\nthose who perpetrate them, a fact bitterly remarked by Hesiod;[50]\nand secondly, that society cannot hold together without justice.\nIt was long before Governments grew up willing and able to protect\ntheir subjects from mutual aggressions, nor does positive law create\nmorality, but implies it, and could not be worked without it. Nor could\ninternational obligations be enforced by a superior tribunal; hence\nthey have remained down to the present day a fertile theme for ethical\ndiscussion. It is at this point that morality forms a junction with\nreligion, the history of which is highly interesting, but which can\nhere be only briefly traced. The Olympian divinities, as placed before\nus by Homer, are anything but moral. Their conduct towards each other\nis that of a dissolute nobility; towards men it is that of unscrupulous\npartisans and patrons. A loyal adherence to friends and gratitude for\nsacrificial offerings are their most respectable characteristics,\nraising them already a little above the nature-powers whence they were\nderived. Now, mark how they first become moralised. It is by being made\nwitnesses to an oath. Any one who is called in to testify to a promise\nfeels aggrieved if it is broken, looking on the breach as an insult\nto his own dignity. As the Third Commandment well puts it, his name\nhas been taken in vain. Thus it happened that the same gods who left\nevery other crime unpunished, visited perjury with severe and speedy\nretribution, continued even after the offender\u2019s death.[51] Respect for\na contract is the primary form of moral obligation, and still seems to\npossess a peculiar hold over uneducated minds. We see every day how\nmany persons will abstain from actions which they know to be immoral\nbecause they have given their word to that effect, not because the\nactions themselves are wrong. And for that reason law courts would be\nmore willing to enforce contracts than to redress injuries. If, then,\none person inflicted damage on another, he might afterwards, in order\nto escape retaliation from the injured party, or from his family,\nengage to give satisfaction, and the court would compel him to redeem\nhis promise.[52] Thus contract, by procuring redress for every species\nof wrong, would gradually extend its own obligatory character to\nabstinence from injury in general, and the divine sanctions primarily\ninvoked on behalf of oaths would be extended, with them, over the whole\ndomain of moral conduct.\n\nNor was this all. Laws and justice once established would require\nto have their origin accounted for, and, according to the usual\ngenealogical method of the early Greeks, would be described as children\nof the gods, who would thus be interested in their welfare, and would\navenge their violation\u2014a stage of reflection already reached in the\n_Works and Days_ of Hesiod.\n\nAgain, when oracles like that at Delphi had obtained wide-spread\nrenown and authority, they would be consulted, not only on ceremonial\nquestions and matters of policy, but also on debateable points of\nmorality. The divine responses, being unbiassed by personal interest,\nwould necessarily be given in accordance with received rules of\nrectitude, and would be backed by all the terrors of a supernatural\nsanction. It might even be dangerous to assume that the god could\npossibly give his support to wrong-doing. A story told by Herodotus\nproves that such actually was the case.[E] There lived once at Sparta a\ncertain man named Glaucus, who had acquired so great a reputation for\nprobity that, during the troublous times of the Persian conquest, a\nwealthy Milesian thought it advisable to deposit a large sum of money\nwith him for safe keeping. After a considerable time the money was\nclaimed by his children, but the honesty of Glaucus was not proof\nagainst temptation. He pretended to have forgotten the whole affair,\nand required a delay of three months before making up his mind with\nregard to the validity of their demand. During that interval he\nconsulted the Delphic oracle to know whether he might possess himself\nof the money by a false oath. The answer was that it would be for\nhis immediate advantage to do so; all must die, the faithful and the\nperjured alike; but Horcus (oath) had a nameless son swift to pursue\nwithout feet, strong to grasp without hands, who would destroy the\nwhole race of the sinner. Glaucus craved forgiveness, but was informed\nthat to tempt the god was equivalent to committing the crime. He went\nhome and restored the deposit, but his whole family perished utterly\nfrom the land before three generations had passed by.\n\nYet another step remained to take. Punishment must be transferred from\na man\u2019s innocent children to the man himself in a future life. But the\nOlympian theology was, originally at least, powerless to effect this\nrevolution. Its gods, being personifications of celestial phenomena,\nhad nothing to do with the dark underworld whither men descended\nafter death. There existed, however, side by side with the brilliant\nreligion of courts and camps which Greek poetry has made so familiar\nto us, another religion more popular with simple country-folk,[53] to\nwhom war meant ruin, courts of justice a means invented by kings for\nexacting bribes, sea-voyages a senseless imprudence, chariot-racing a\nsinful waste of money, and beautiful women drones in the human hive,\ndemons of extravagance invented by Zeus for the purpose of venting his\nspite against mankind. What interest could these poor people take in\nthe resplendent guardians of their hereditary oppressors, in H\u00ear\u00ea and\nAth\u00ean\u00ea, Apollo and Poseid\u00f4n, Artemis and Aphrodit\u00ea? But they had other\ngods peculiar to themselves, whose worship was wrapped in mystery,\npartly that its objects need not be lured away by the attraction of\nricher offerings elsewhere, partly because the activity of these\nChthonian deities, as they were called, was naturally associated with\ndarkness and secresy. Presiding over birth and death, over seed-time\nand harvest and vintage, they personified the frost-bound sleep of\nvegetation in winter and its return from a dark underworld in spring.\nOut of their worship grew stories which told how Persephon\u00ea, the\nfair daughter of D\u00eam\u00eat\u00ear, or Mother Earth, was carried away by Pluto\nto reign with him over the shades below, but after long searching\nwas restored to her mother for eight months in every year; and how\nDionysus, the wine-god, was twice born, first from the earth burned up\nand fainting under the intolerable fire of a summer sky, respectively\npersonified as Semel\u00ea and her lover Zeus, then from the protecting\nmist wrapped round him by his divine father, of whom it formed a part.\nDionysus, too, was subject to alternations of depression and triumph,\nfrom the recital of which Attic drama was developed, and gained a\nfooting in the infernal regions, whither we accompany him in the\n_Frogs_ of Aristophanes. Another country god was Herm\u00eas, who seems to\nhave been associated with planting and possession as well as with the\ndemarcation and exchange of property, and who was also a conductor of\nsouls to Hades. Finally, there were the Erinyes, children of night and\ndwellers in subterranean darkness; they could breed pestilence and\ndiscord, but could also avert them; they could blast the produce of the\nsoil or increase its luxuriance and fertility; when blood was spilt on\nthe ground, they made it blossom up again in a harvest of retributive\nhatred; they pursued the guilty during life, and did not relax their\ngrasp after death; all law, whether physical or moral, was under their\nprotection; the same Erinyes who, in the _Odyssey_, avenge on Oedipus\nthe suicide of his mother, in the _Iliad_ will not allow the miraculous\nspeaking of a horse to continue; and we have seen in the last chapter\nhow, according to Heracleitus, it is they who also prevent the sun\nfrom transgressing his appointed limits.[54] D\u00eam\u00eat\u00ear and Persephon\u00ea,\ntoo, seem to have been law-giving goddesses, as their great festival,\ncelebrated by women alone, was called the Thesmophoria, while eternal\nhappiness was promised to those who had been initiated into their\nmysteries at Eleusis; and we also find that moral maxims were graven on\nthe marble busts of Herm\u00eas placed along every thoroughfare in Athens.\nWe can thus understand why the mutilation of these Hermae caused\nsuch rage and terror, accompanied, as it was rumoured to be, by a\nprofanation of the Eleusinian mysteries; for any attack on the deities\nin question would seem to prefigure an attack on the settled order of\nthings, the popular rights which they both symbolised and protected.\n\nHere, then, we find, chiefly among the rustic population, a religion\nintimately associated with morality, and including the doctrine of\nretribution after death. But this simple faith, though well adapted\nto the few wants of its original votaries, could not be raised to\nthe utmost expansion and purity of which it was susceptible without\nbeing brought into vivifying contact with that other Olympian\nreligion which, as we have seen, belonged more peculiarly to the\nruling aristocracy. The poor may be more moral than the rich, and the\ncountry than the town; nevertheless it is from dwellers in cities, and\nfrom the higher classes, including as they do a large percentage of\neducated, open-minded individuals, that the impulses to moral progress\nalways proceed. If the narrowness and hardness of primitive social\narrangements were overcome; if justice was disengaged from the ties\nof blood-relationship, and tempered with consideration for inevitable\nerror; if deadly feuds were terminated by a habitual appeal to\narbitration; if the worship of one supreme ideal was substituted for a\nblind sympathy with the ebb and flow of life on earth; if the numerical\nstrength of states was increased by giving shelter to fugitives; if a\nHellenic nation was created and held together by a common literature\nand a common civilisation, by oracles accessible to all, and by\nperiodical games in which every free-born Greek could take part; and,\nlastly, if a brighter abode than the slumberous garden of Persephon\u00ea\nwas assigned after death to the godlike heroes who had come forth\nfrom a thrice repeated ordeal with souls unstained by sin;[55]\u2014all\nthis was due to the military rather than to the industrial classes,\nto the spirit that breathes through Homer rather than to the tamer\ninspiration of Hesiod\u2019s muse. But if justice was raised to an Olympian\nthrone; if righteous providence, no less than creative power, became\nan inalienable attribute of Zeus; if lyric poetry, from Archilochus to\nSimonides and Pindar, is one long hymn of prayer and praise ever turned\nupward in adoring love to the Divine; we must remember that Themis\nwas a synonyme for Earth, and that Prometheus, the original friend\nof humanity, for whose benefit he invented every useful art, augury\nincluded, was her son. The seeds of immortal hope were first planted\nin the fructifying bosom of D\u00eam\u00eat\u00ear, and life, a forsaken Ariadn\u00ea,\ntook refuge in the mystical embraces of Dionysus from the memory of a\npromise that had allured her to betray. Thus, we may conjecture that\nbetween hall and farm-house, between the Olympian and the Chthonian\nreligions, there was a constant reaction going on, during which ethical\nideas were continually expanding, and extricating themselves from the\nsuperstitious elements associated with their earliest theological\nexpression.\n\n\nIII.\n\nThis process was conceived by Aeschylus as a conflict between two\ngenerations of gods, ending with their complete reconciliation. In the\n_Prometheus Bound_ we have the commencement of the conflict, in the\n_Eumenides_ its close. Our sympathies are apparently at first intended\nto be enlisted on behalf of the older divinities, but at last are\nclaimed exclusively by the younger. As opposed to Prometheus, Zeus is\nevidently in the wrong, and seeks to make up for his deficiencies by\narbitrary violence. In the _Oresteia_ he is the champion of justice\nagainst iniquity, and through his interpreter, Apollo, he enforces a\nrevised moral code against the antiquated claims of the Erinyes; these\nlatter, however, ultimately consenting to become guardians of the new\nsocial order. The Aeschylean drama shows us Greek religion at the\nhighest level it could reach, unaided by philosophical reflection.\nWith Sophocles a perceptible decline has already begun. We are loth to\nsay anything that may sound like disparagement of so noble a poet. We\nyield to none in admiration for one who has combined the two highest\nqualities of art\u2014sweetness and strength\u2014more completely than any\nother singer, Homer alone excepted, and who has given the primordial\naffections their definitive expression for all time. But we cannot\nhelp perceiving an element of superstition in his dramas, which,\nso far, distinguishes them unfavourably from those of his Titanic\npredecessor. With Sophocles, when the gods interfere, it is to punish\ndisrespect towards themselves, not to enforce justice between man and\nman. Ajax perishes by his own hand because he has neglected to ask\nfor divine assistance in battle. Laius and Jocast\u00ea come to a tragic\nend through disobedience to a perfectly arbitrary oracle; and as a\npart of the same divine purpose Oedipus encounters the most frightful\ncalamities by no fault of his own. The gods are, moreover, exclusively\nobjects of fear; their sole business is to enforce the fulfilment of\nenigmatic prophecies; they give no assistance to the pious and virtuous\ncharacters. Antigon\u00ea is allowed to perish for having performed the last\nduties to her brother\u2019s corpse. Neoptolemus receives no aid in that\nstruggle between ambition on the one hand with truthfulness and pity\non the other which makes his character one of the most interesting in\nall imaginative literature. When Ath\u00ean\u00ea bids Odysseus exult over the\ndegradation of Ajax, the generous Ithacan refuses to her face, and\nfalls back on the consciousness of a common humanity uniting him in\nsympathy with his prostrate foe.\n\nThe rift within the lute went on widening till all its music was turned\nto jarring discord. With the third great Attic dramatist we arrive at\na period of complete dissolution. Morality is not only separated from\nmythological tradition, but is openly at war with it. Religious belief,\nafter becoming almost monotheistic, has relapsed into polytheism. With\nEuripides the gods do not, as with his predecessors, form a common\ncouncil. They lead an independent existence, not interfering with each\nother, and pursuing private ends of their own\u2014often very disreputable\nones. Aphrodite inspires Phaedra with an incestuous passion for her\nstepson. Artemis is propitiated by human sacrifices. H\u00ear\u00ea causes\nHeracl\u00eas to kill his children in a fit of delirium. Zeus and Poseid\u00f4n\nare charged with breaking their own laws, and setting a bad example to\nmortals. Apollo, once so venerated, fares the worst of any. He outrages\na noble maiden, and succeeds in palming off her child on the man whom\nshe subsequently marries. He instigates the murder of a repentant enemy\nwho has come to seek forgiveness at his shrine. He fails to protect\nOrestes from the consequences of matricide, committed at his own\nunwise suggestion. Political animosity may have had something to do\nwith these attacks on a god who was believed to side with the Dorian\nconfederacy against Athens. Doubtless, also, Euripides disbelieved many\nof the scandalous stories which he selected as appropriate materials\nfor dramatic representation. But a satire on immoral beliefs would\nhave been unnecessary had they not been generally accepted. Nor was\nthe poet himself altogether a freethinker. One of his latest and most\nsplendid works, the _Bacchae_, is a formal submission to the orthodox\ncreed. Under the stimulus of an insane delusion, Pentheus is torn\nto pieces by his mother Agav\u00ea and her attendant Maenads, for having\npresumed to oppose the introduction of Dionysus-worship into Thebes.\nThe antecedents of the new divinity are questionable, and the nature of\nhis influence on the female population extremely suspicious. Yet much\nstress is laid on the impiety of Pentheus, and we are clearly intended\nto consider his fate as well-deserved.\n\nEuripides is not a true thinker, and for that very reason fitly\ntypifies a period when religion had been shaken to its very foundation,\nbut still retained a strong hold on men\u2019s minds, and might at any time\nreassert its ancient authority with unexpected vigour. We gather, also,\nfrom his writings, that ethical sentiment had undergone a parallel\ntransformation. He introduces characters and actions which the elder\ndramatists would have rejected as unworthy of tragedy, and not only\nintroduces them, but composes elaborate speeches in their defence. Side\nby side with examples of devoted heroism we find such observations as\nthat everyone loves himself best, and that those are most prosperous\nwho attend most exclusively to their own interests. It so happens that\nin one instance where Euripides has chosen a subject already handled\nby Aeschylus, the difference of treatment shows how great a moral\nrevolution had occurred in the interim. The conflict waged between\nEteocl\u00eas and Polyneic\u00eas for their father\u2019s throne is the theme both\nof the _Seven against Thebes_ and of the _Phoenician Women_. In both,\nPolyneic\u00eas bases his claim on grounds of right. It had been agreed that\nhe and his brother should alternately hold sway over Thebes. His turn\nhas arrived, and Eteocl\u00eas refuses to give way. Polyneic\u00eas endeavours\nto enforce his pretensions by bringing a foreign army against Thebes.\nAeschylus makes him appear before the walls with an allegorical figure\nof Justice on his shield, promising to restore him to his father\u2019s\nseat. On hearing this, Eteocl\u00eas exclaims:\u2014\n\n    \u2018Aye, if Jove\u2019s virgin daughter Justice shared\n    In deed or thought of his, then it might be.\n    But neither when he left the darkling womb,\n    Nor in his childhood, nor in youth, nor when\n    The clustering hair first gathered round his chin,\n    Hath Justice turned approving eyes on him;\n    Nor deem I that she comes as his ally,\n    Now that he wastes his native land with war,\n    Or Justice most unjustly were she called\n    If ruthless hearts could claim her fellowship.\u2019[56]\n\nEuripides, with greater dramatic skill, brings the two brothers\ntogether in presence of their mother, Jocast\u00ea. When Polyneic\u00eas has\nspoken, Eteocl\u00eas replies:\u2014\n\n    \u2018Honour and wisdom are but empty names\n    That mortals use, each with a different meaning,\n    Agreeing in the sound, not in the sense.\n    Hear, mother, undisguised my whole resolve!\n    Were Sovereignty, chief goddess among gods,\n    Far set as is the rising of a star,\n    Or buried deep in subterranean gloom,\n    There I would seek and win her for mine own.\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n    Come fire, come sword, yoke horses to the car,\n    And fill the plain with armed men, for I\n    Will not give up my royalty to him!\n    Let all my life be guiltless save in this:\n    I dare do any wrong for sovereign power\u2014\n    The splendid guerdon of a splendid sin.\u2019[57]\n\nThe contrast is not only direct, but designed, for Euripides had the\nwork of his predecessor before him, and no doubt imagined that he was\nimproving on it.\n\nWe perceive a precisely similar change of tone on comparing the two\ngreat historians who have respectively recorded the struggle of Greece\nagainst Persia, and the struggle of imperial Athens against Sparta\nand her allies. Though born within fifteen years of one another,\nHerodotus and Thucydides are virtually separated by an interval of two\ngenerations, for while the latter represents the most advanced thought\nof his time, the former lived among traditions inherited from the\nage preceding his own. Now, Herodotus is not more remarkable for the\nearnest piety than for the clear sense of justice which runs through\nhis entire work. He draws no distinction between public and private\nmorality. Whoever makes war on his neighbours without provocation, or\nrules without the consent of the governed, is, according to him, in\nthe wrong, although he is well aware that such wrongs are constantly\ncommitted. Thucydides knows nothing of supernatural interference in\nhuman affairs. After relating the tragical end of Nicias, he observes,\nnot without a sceptical tendency, that of all the Greeks then living,\nthis unfortunate general least deserved such a fate, so far as piety\nand respectability of character went. If there are gods they hold\ntheir position by superior strength. That the strong should enslave\nthe weak is a universal and necessary law of Nature. The Spartans,\nwho among themselves are most scrupulous in observing traditional\nobligations, in their dealings with others most openly identify gain\nwith honour, and expediency with right. Even if the historian himself\ndid not share these opinions, it is evident that they were widely\nentertained by his contemporaries, and he expressly informs us that\nGreek political morality had deteriorated to a frightful extent in\nconsequence of the civil discords fomented by the conflict between\nAthens and Sparta; while, in Athens at least, a similar corruption of\nprivate morality had begun with the great plague of 430, its chief\nsymptom being a mad desire to extract the utmost possible enjoyment\nfrom life, for which purpose every means was considered legitimate. On\nthis point Thucydides is confirmed and supplemented by the evidence of\nanother contemporary authority. According to Aristophanes, the ancient\ndiscipline had in his time become very much relaxed. The rich were idle\nand extravagant; the poor mutinous; young men were growing more and\nmore insolent to their elders; religion was derided; all classes were\nanimated by a common desire to make money and to spend it on sensual\nenjoyment. Only, instead of tracing back this profound demoralisation\nto a change in the social environment, Aristophanes attributes it to\ndemagogues, harassing informers, and popular poets, but above all to\nthe new culture then coming into vogue. Physical science had brought\nin atheism; dialectic training had destroyed the sanctity of ethical\nrestraints. When, however, the religious and virtuous Socrates is put\nforward as a type of both tendencies, our confidence in the comic\npoet\u2019s accuracy, if not in his good faith, becomes seriously shaken;\nand his whole tone so vividly recalls the analogous invectives now\nhurled from press and pulpit against every philosophic theory, every\nscientific discovery, every social reform at variance with traditional\nbeliefs or threatening the sinister interests which have gathered round\niniquitous institutions, that at first we feel tempted to follow Grote\nin rejecting his testimony altogether. So far, however, as the actual\nphenomena themselves are concerned, and apart from their generating\nantecedents, Aristophanes does but bring into more picturesque\nprominence what graver observers are content to indicate, and what\nPlato, writing a generation later, treats as an unquestionable reality.\nNor is the fact of a lowered moral tone going along with accelerated\nmental activity either incredible or unparalleled. Modern history\nknows of at least two periods remarkable for such a conjunction,\nthe Renaissance and the eighteenth century, the former stained with\nevery imaginable crime, the latter impure throughout, and lapsing\ninto blood-thirsty violence at its close. Moral progress, like every\nother mode of motion, has its appropriate rhythm\u2014its epochs of severe\nrestraint followed by epochs of rebellious license. And when, as an\naggravation of the reaction from which they periodically suffer,\nethical principles have become associated with a mythology whose decay,\nat first retarded, is finally hastened by their activity, it is still\neasier to understand how they may share in its discredit, and only\nregain their ascendency by allying themselves with a purified form of\nthe old religion, until they can be disentangled from the compromising\nsupport of all unverified theories whatever. We have every reason to\nbelieve that Greek life and thought did pass through such a crisis\nduring the second half of the fifth century B.C., and we have now to\ndeal with the speculative aspects of that crisis, so far as they are\nrepresented by the Sophists.\n\n\nIV.\n\nThe word Sophist in modern languages means one who purposely uses\nfallacious arguments. Our definition was probably derived from that\ngiven by Aristotle in his _Topics_, but does not entirely reproduce\nit. What we call sophistry was with him eristic, or the art of unfair\ndisputation; and by Sophist he means one who practises the eristic\nart for gain. He also defines sophistry as the appearance without the\nreality of wisdom. A very similar account of the Sophists and their\nart is given by Plato in what seems to be one of his later dialogues;\nand another dialogue, probably composed some time previously, shows\nus how eristic was actually practised by two Sophists, Euthyd\u00eamus and\nDionysod\u00f4rus, who had learned the art, which is represented as a very\neasy accomplishment, when already old men. Their performance is not\nedifying; and one only wonders how any Greek could have been induced to\npay for the privilege of witnessing such an exhibition. But the word\nSophist, in its original signification, was an entirely honourable\nname. It meant a sage, a wise and learned man, like Solon, or, for that\nmatter, like Plato and Aristotle themselves. The interval between these\nwidely-different connotations is filled up and explained by a number\nof individuals as to whom our information is principally, though by\nno means entirely, derived from Plato. All of them were professional\nteachers, receiving payment for their services; all made a particular\nstudy of language, some aiming more particularly at accuracy, others\nat beauty of expression. While no common doctrine can be attributed\nto them as a class, as individuals they are connected by a series of\ngraduated transitions, the final outcome of which will enable us to\nunderstand how, from a title of respect, their name could be turned\ninto a byword of reproach. The Sophists, concerning whom some details\nhave been transmitted to us, are Protagoras, Gorgias, Prodicus,\nHippias, P\u00f4lus, Thrasymachus, and the Eristics already mentioned.\nWe have placed them, so far as their ages can be determined, in\nchronological order, but their logical order is somewhat different.\nThe first two on the list were born about 480 B.C., and the second\npair possibly twenty years later. But neither Protagoras nor Gorgias\nseems to have published his most characteristic theories until a\nrather advanced time of life, for they are nowhere alluded to by the\nXenophontic Socrates, who, on the other hand, is well acquainted with\nboth Prodicus and Hippias, while, conversely, Plato is most interested\nin the former pair. We shall also presently see that the scepticism\nof the elder Sophists can best be explained by reference to the more\ndogmatic theories of their younger contemporaries, which again easily\nfit on to the physical speculations of earlier thinkers.\n\nProdicus was born in Ceos, a little island belonging to the Athenian\nconfederacy, and seems to have habitually resided at Athens. His\nhealth was delicate, and he wrapped up a good deal, as we learn from\nthe ridicule of Plato, always pitiless to a valetudinarian.[F] Judging\nfrom two allusions in Aristophanes, he taught natural science in\nsuch a manner as to conciliate even that unsparing enemy of the\nnew learning.[58] He also gave moral instruction grounded on the\ntraditional ideas of his country, a pleasing specimen of which\nhas been preserved. It is conveyed under the form of an apologue,\nentitled the Choice of Heracl\u00eas, and was taken down in its present\nform by Xenophon from the lips of Socrates, who quoted it, with full\napproval, for the benefit of his own disciples. Prodicus also lectured\non the use of words, laying especial emphasis on the distinction of\nsynonyms. We hear, not without sympathy, that he tried to check the\nindiscriminate employment of \u2018awful\u2019 (\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03cc\u03c2), which was even more rife\nat Athens than among ourselves.[G] Finally, we are told that, like many\nmoderns, he considered the popular divinities to be personifications\nof natural phenomena. Hippias, who was a native of Elis, seems to\nhave taught on very much the same system. It would appear that he\nlectured principally on astronomy and physics, but did not neglect\nlanguage, and is said to have invented an art of memory. His restless\ninquisitiveness was also exercised on ancient history, and his\nerudition in that subject was taxed to the utmost during a visit to\nSparta, where the unlettered people still delighted in old stories,\nwhich among the more enlightened Greeks had been superseded by topics\nof livelier and fresher interest. At Sparta, too, he recited, with\ngreat applause, an ethical discourse under the form of advice given\nby Nestor to Neoptolemus after the capture of Troy. We know, on good\nauthority, that Hippias habitually distinguished between natural and\ncustomary law, the former being, according to him, everywhere the\nsame, while the latter varied from state to state, and in the same\nstate at different times. Natural law he held to be alone binding and\nalone salutary. On this subject the following expressions, evidently\nintended to be characteristic, are put into his mouth by Plato:\u2014\u2018All\nof you who are here present I reckon to be kinsmen and friends and\nfellow-citizens, by nature and not by law; for by nature like is akin\nto like, whereas law is the tyrant of mankind, and often compels us to\ndo many things which are against Nature.\u2019[59] Here two distinct ideas\nare implied, the idea that Nature is a moral guide, and, further,\nthe idea that she is opposed to convention. The habit of looking for\nexamples and lessons to some simpler life than their own prevailed\namong the Greeks from a very early period, and is, indeed, very common\nin primitive societies. Homer\u2019s similes are a case in point; while all\nthat we are told about the innocence and felicity of the Aethiopians\nand Hyperboreans seems to indicate a deep-rooted belief in the moral\nsuperiority of savage to civilised nations; and Hesiod\u2019s fiction of\nthe Four Ages, beginning with a golden age, arises from a kindred\nnotion that intellectual progress is accompanied by moral corruption.\nSimonides of Amorgus illustrates the various types of womankind by\nexamples from the animal world; and Aesop\u2019s fables, dating from the\nfirst half of the sixth century, give ethical instruction under the\nsame disguise. We have already pointed out how Greek rural religion\nestablished a thorough-going connexion between physical and moral\nphenomena, and how Heracleitus followed in the same track. Now, one\ngreat result of early Greek thought, as described in our first chapter,\nwas to combine all these scattered fugitive incoherent ideas under a\nsingle conception, thus enabling them to elucidate and support one\nanother. This was the conception of Nature as a universal all-creative\neternal power, first superior to the gods, then altogether superseding\nthem. When Homer called Zeus the father of gods and men; when Pindar\nsaid that both races, the divine and the human, are sprung from one\nmother (Earth);[60] when, again, he spoke of law as an absolute king;\nor when Aeschylus set destiny above Zeus himself;[61] they were but\nforeshadowing a more despotic authority, whose dominion is even now not\nextinct, is perhaps being renewed under the title of Evolution. The\nword Nature was used by most philosophers, and the thing was implied\nby all. They did not, indeed, commit the mistake of personifying a\nconvenient abstraction; but a conception which they substituted for the\ngods would soon inherit every attribute of divine agency. Moreover,\nthe Nature of philosophy had three fundamental attributes admitting of\nready application as ethical standards. She was everywhere the same;\nfire burned in Greece and Persia alike. She tended towards an orderly\nsystem where every agent or element is limited to its appropriate\nsphere. And she proceeded on a principle of universal compensation,\nall gains in one direction being paid for by losses in another, and\nevery disturbance being eventually rectified by a restoration of\nequilibrium. It was, indeed, by no means surprising that truths which\nwere generalised from the experience of Greek social life should now\nreturn to confirm the orderliness of that life with the sanction of an\nall-pervading law.\n\nEuripides gives us an interesting example of the style in which this\nethical application of physical science could be practised. We have\nseen how Eteocl\u00eas expresses his determination to do and dare all for\nthe sake of sovereign power. His mother, Jocast\u00ea, gently rebukes him as\nfollows:\u2014\n\n    \u2018Honour Equality who binds together\n    Both friends and cities and confederates,\n    For equity is law, law equity;\n    The lesser is the greater\u2019s enemy,\n    And disadvantaged aye begins the strife.\n    From her our measures, weights, and numbers come,\n    Defined and ordered by Equality;\n    So do the night\u2019s blind eye and sun\u2019s bright orb\n    Walk equal courses in their yearly round,\n    And neither is embittered by defeat;\n    And while both light and darkness serve mankind\n    Wilt thou not bear an equal in thy house?\u2019[62]\n\nOn examining the apologue of Prodicus, we find it characterised by\na somewhat similar style of reasoning. There is, it is true, no\nreference to physical phenomena, but Virtue dwells strongly on the\ntruth that nothing can be had for nothing, and that pleasure must\neither be purchased by toil or atoned for by languor, satiety, and\npremature decay. We know also that the Cynical school, as represented\nby Antisthen\u00eas, rejected all pleasure on the ground that it was always\npaid for by an equal amount of pain; and Heracl\u00eas, the Prodicean type\nof a youth who follows virtue in preference to vice disguised as\nhappiness, was also the favourite hero of the Cynics. Again, Plato\nalludes, in the _Phil\u00eabus_, to certain thinkers, reputed to be \u2018great\non the subject of physics,\u2019 who deny the very existence of pleasure.\nCritics have been at a loss to identify these persons, and rather\nreluctantly put up with the explanation that Antisthen\u00eas and his school\nare referred to. Antisthen\u00eas was a friend of Prodicus, and may at one\ntime have shared in his scientific studies, thus giving occasion to\nthe association touched on by Plato. But is it not equally possible\nthat Prodicus left behind disciples who, like him, combined moral with\nphysical teaching; and, going a little further, may we not conjecture\nthat their opposition to Hedonism was inherited from the master\nhimself, who, like the Stoics afterwards, may have based it on an\napplication of physical reasoning to ethics?\n\nStill more important was the antithesis between Nature and convention,\nwhich, so far as we know, originated exclusively with Hippias. We\nhave already observed that universality and necessity were, with\nthe Greeks, standing marks of naturalness. The customs of different\ncountries were, on the other hand, distinguished by extreme variety,\namounting sometimes to diametrical opposition. Herodotus was fond\nof calling attention to such contrasts; only, he drew from them the\nconclusion that law, to be so arbitrary, must needs possess supreme\nand sacred authority. According to the more plausible interpretation\nof Hippias, the variety, and at least in Greek democracies, the\nchangeability of law proved that it was neither sacred nor binding.\nHe also looked on artificial social institutions as the sole cause of\ndivision and discord among mankind. Here we already see the dawn of a\ncosmopolitanism afterwards preached by Cynic and Stoic philosophers.\nFurthermore, to discover the natural rule of right, he compared the\nlaws of different nations, and selected those which were held by\nall in common as the basis of an ethical system.[63] Now, this is\nprecisely what was done by the Roman jurists long afterwards under\nthe inspiration of Stoical teaching. We have it on the high authority\nof Sir Henry Maine that they identified the _Jus Gentium_, that is,\nthe laws supposed to be observed by all nations alike, with the _Jus\nNaturale_, that is, the code by which men were governed in their\nprimitive condition of innocence. It was by a gradual application of\nthis ideal standard that the numerous inequalities between different\nclasses of persons, enforced by ancient Roman law, were removed, and\nthat contract was substituted for status. Above all, the abolition of\nslavery was, if not directly caused, at any rate powerfully aided,\nby the belief that it was against Nature. At the beginning of the\nfourteenth century we find Louis Hutin, King of France, assigning\nas a reason for the enfranchisement of his serfs, that, \u2018according\nto natural law, everybody ought to be born free,\u2019 and although Sir\nH. Maine holds this to have been a mistaken interpretation of the\njuridical axiom \u2018omnes homines natur\u00e2 aequales sunt,\u2019 which means\nnot an ideal to be attained, but a primitive condition from which we\nhave departed: nevertheless it very faithfully reproduces the theory\nof those Greek philosophers from whom the idea of a natural law was\nderived. That, in Aristotle\u2019s time at least, a party existed who were\nopposed to slavery on theoretical grounds of right is perfectly evident\nfrom the language of the _Politics_. \u2018Some persons,\u2019 says Aristotle,\n\u2018think that slave-holding is against nature, for that one man is a\nslave and another free by law, while by nature there is no difference\nbetween them, for which reason it is unjust as being the result of\nforce.\u2019[64] And he proceeds to prove the contrary at length. The same\ndoctrine of natural equality led to important political consequences,\nhaving, again according to Sir H. Maine, contributed both to the\nAmerican Declaration of Independence and to the French Revolution.\n\nThere is one more aspect deserving our attention, under which the\ntheory of Nature has been presented both in ancient and modern times.\nA dialogue which, whether rightly or wrongly attributed to Plato, may\nbe taken as good evidence on the subject it relates to,[65] exhibits\nHippias in the character of a universal genius, who can not only\nteach every science and practise every kind of literary composition,\nbut has also manufactured all the clothes and other articles about\nhis person. Here we have precisely the sort of versatility which\ncharacterises uncivilised society, and which believers in a state of\nnature love to encourage at all times. The division of labour, while\nit carries us ever farther from barbarism, makes us more dependent on\neach other. An Odysseus is master of many arts, a Themistocles of two,\na Demosthenes of only one. A Norwegian peasant can do more for himself\nthan an English countryman, and therefore makes a better colonist. If\nwe must return to Nature, our first step should be to learn a number\nof trades, and so be better able to shift for ourselves. Such was the\nideal of Hippias, and it was also the ideal of the eighteenth century.\nIts literature begins with _Robinson Crusoe_, the story of a man who\nis accidentally compelled to provide himself, during many years, with\nall the necessaries of life. Its educational manuals are, in France,\nRousseau\u2019s _\u00c9mile_; in England, Day\u2019s _Sandford and Merton_, both\nteaching that the young should be thrown as much as possible on their\nown resources. One of its types is Diderot, who learns handicrafts that\nhe may describe them in the _Encyclop\u00e9die_. Its two great spokesmen\nare Voltaire and Goethe, who, after cultivating every department\nof literature, take in statesmanship as well. And its last word is\nSchiller\u2019s _Letters on Aesthetic Culture_, holding up totality of\nexistence as the supreme ideal to be sought after.\n\nThere is no reason to believe that Hippias used his distinction between\nNature and convention as an argument for despotism. It would rather\nappear that, if anything, he and his school desired to establish a more\ncomplete equality among men. Others, however, both rhetoricians and\npractical statesmen, were not slow to draw an opposite conclusion. They\nsaw that where no law was recognised, as between different nations,\nnothing but violence and the right of the stronger prevailed. It was\nonce believed that aggressions which human law could not reach found\nno favour with the gods, and dread of the divine displeasure may have\ndone something towards restraining them. But religion had partly been\ndestroyed by the new culture, partly perverted into a sanction for\nwrong-doing. By what right, it was asked, did Zeus himself reign? Had\nhe not unlawfully dethroned his father, Cronos, and did he not now hold\npower simply by virtue of superior strength? Similar reasonings were\nsoon applied to the internal government of each state. It was alleged\nthat the ablest citizens could lay claim to uncontrolled supremacy by\na title older than any social fiction. Rules of right meant nothing\nbut a permanent conspiracy of the weak to withdraw themselves from the\nlegitimate dominion of their born master, and to bamboozle him into\na voluntary surrender of his natural privileges. Sentiments bearing\na superficial resemblance to these have occasionally found utterance\namong ourselves. Nevertheless, it would be most unjust to compare\nCarlyle and Mr. Froude with Critias and Callicl\u00eas. We believe that\ntheir preference of despotism to representative government is an entire\nmistake. But we know that with them as with us the good of the governed\nis the sole end desired. The gentlemen of Athens sought after supreme\npower only as a means for gratifying their worst passions without let\nor hindrance; and for that purpose they were ready to ally themselves\nwith every foreign enemy in turn, or to flatter the caprices of the\nD\u00eamos, if that policy promised to answer equally well. The antisocial\ntheories of these \u2018young lions,\u2019 as they were called by their enemies\nand sometimes by themselves also, do not seem to have been supported\nby any public teacher. If we are to believe Plato, P\u00f4lus, a Sicilian\nrhetor, did indeed regard Archelaus, the abler Louis Napoleon of his\ntime, with sympathy and envious admiration, but without attempting\nto justify the crimes of his hero by an appeal to natural law. The\ncorruption of theoretical morality among the paid teachers took a more\nsubtle form. Instead of opposing one principle to another, they held\nthat all law had the same source, being an emanation from the will\nof the stronger, and exclusively designed to promote his interest.\nJustice, according to Thrasymachus in the _Republic_, is another\u2019s\ngood, which is true enough, and to practise it except under compulsion\nis foolish, which, whatever Grote may say, is a grossly immoral\ndoctrine.\n\n\nV.\n\nWe have seen how the idea of Nature, first evolved by physical\nphilosophy, was taken by some, at least, among the Sophists as a\nbasis for their ethical teaching; then how an interpretation utterly\nopposed to theirs was put on it by practical men, and how this second\ninterpretation was so generalised by the younger rhetoricians as to\ninvolve the denial of all morality whatever. Meanwhile, another equally\nimportant conception, destined to come into speedy and prolonged\nantagonism with the idea of Nature, and like it to exercise a powerful\ninfluence on ethical reflection, had almost contemporaneously been\nelaborated out of the materials which earlier speculation supplied.\nFrom Parmenides and Heracleitus down, every philosopher who had\npropounded a theory of the world, had also more or less peremptorily\ninsisted on the fact that his theory differed widely from common\nbelief. Those who held that change is impossible, and those who\ntaught that everything is incessantly changing; those who asserted the\nindestructibility of matter, and those who denied its continuity; those\nwho took away objective reality from every quality except extension\nand resistance, and those who affirmed that the smallest molecules\npartook more or less of every attribute that is revealed to sense\u2014all\nthese, however much they might disagree among themselves, agreed in\ndeclaring that the received opinions of mankind were an utter delusion.\nThus, a sharp distinction came to be drawn between the misleading\nsense-impressions and the objective reality to which thought alone\ncould penetrate. It was by combining these two elements, sensation\nand thought, that the idea of mind was originally constituted. And\nmind when so understood could not well be accounted for by any of the\nmaterialistic hypotheses at first proposed. The senses must differ\nprofoundly from that of which they give such an unfaithful report;\nwhile reason, which Anaxagoras had so carefully differentiated from\nevery other form of existence, carried back its distinction to the\nsubjective sphere, and became clothed with a new spirituality when\nreintegrated in the consciousness of man.\n\nThe first result of this separation between man and the world was a\ncomplete breach with the old physical philosophy, shown, on the one\nhand, by an abandonment of speculative studies, on the other, by a\nsubstitution of convention for Nature as the recognised standard of\nright. Both consequences were drawn by Protagoras, the most eminent\nof the Sophists. We have now to consider more particularly what was\nhis part in the great drama of which we are attempting to give an\nintelligible account.\n\nProtagoras was born about 480 B.C. He was a fellow-townsman of\nDemocritus, and has been represented, though not on good authority,\nas a disciple of that illustrious thinker. It was rather by a study\nof Heracleitus that his philosophical opinions, so far as they were\nborrowed from others, seem to have been most decisively determined.\nIn any case, practice, not theory, was the principal occupation of\nhis life. He gave instruction for payment in the higher branches of a\nliberal education, and adopted the name of Sophist, which before had\nsimply meant a wise man, as an honourable title for his new calling.\nProtagoras was a very popular teacher. The news of his arrival in a\nstrange city excited immense enthusiasm, and he was followed from place\nto place by a band of eager disciples. At Athens he was honoured by\nthe friendship of such men as Pericles and Euripides. It was at the\nhouse of the great tragic poet that he read out a work beginning with\nthe ominous declaration, \u2018I cannot tell whether the gods exist or not;\nlife is too short for such difficult investigations.\u2019[66] Athenian\nbigotry took alarm directly. The book containing this frank confession\nof agnosticism was publicly burned, all purchasers being compelled to\ngive up the copies in their possession. The author himself was either\nbanished or took flight, and perished by shipwreck on the way to Sicily\nbefore completing his seventieth year.\n\nThe scepticism of Protagoras went beyond theology and extended to all\nscience whatever. Such, at least, seems to have been the force of his\ncelebrated declaration that \u2018man is the measure of all things, both\nas regards their existence and their non-existence.\u2019[67] According to\nPlato, this doctrine followed from the identification of knowledge\nwith sensible perception, which in its turn was based on a modified\nform of the Heracleitean theory of a perpetual flux. The series of\nexternal changes which constitutes Nature, acting on the series of\ninternal changes which constitutes each man\u2019s personality, produces\nparticular sensations, and these alone are the true reality. They vary\nwith every variation in the factors, and therefore are not the same\nfor separate individuals. Each man\u2019s perceptions are true for himself,\nbut for himself alone. Plato easily shows that such a theory of truth\nis at variance with ordinary opinion, and that if all opinions are\ntrue, it must necessarily stand self-condemned. We may also observe\nthat if nothing can be known but sensation, nothing can be known of\nits conditions. It would, however, be unfair to convict Protagoras of\ntalking nonsense on the unsupported authority of the _Theaet\u00eatus_.\nPlato himself suggests that a better case might have been made out\nfor the incriminated doctrine could its author have been heard in\nself-defence. We may conjecture that Protagoras did not distinguish\nvery accurately between existence, knowledge, and applicability to\npractice. If we assume, what there seems good reason to believe, that\nin the great controversy of Nature _versus_ Law, Protagoras sided with\nthe latter, his position will at once become clear. When the champions\nof Nature credited her with a stability and an authority greater than\ncould be claimed for merely human arrangements, it was a judicious step\nto carry the war into their territory, and ask, on what foundation then\ndoes Nature herself stand? Is not she, too, perpetually changing, and\ndo we not become acquainted with her entirely through our own feelings?\nOught not those feelings to be taken as the ultimate standard in all\nquestions of right and wrong? Individual opinion is a fact which must\nbe reckoned with, but which can be changed by persuasion, not by\nappeals to something that we none of us know anything about. _Man_ is\nthe measure of all things, not the will of gods whose very existence\nis uncertain, nor yet a purely hypothetical state of Nature. Human\ninterests must take precedence of every other consideration. Hector\nmeant nothing else when he preferred the obvious dictates of patriotism\nto inferences drawn from the flight of birds.\n\nWe now understand why Protagoras, in the Platonic dialogue bearing his\nname, should glance scornfully at the method of instruction pursued by\nHippias, with his lectures on astronomy, and why he prefers to discuss\nobscure passages in the poets. The quarrel between a classical and a\nscientific education was just then beginning, and Protagoras, as a\nHumanist, sided with the classics. Again, he does not think much of\nthe \u2018great and sane and noble race of brutes.\u2019 He would not, like the\nCynics, take them as examples of conduct. Man, he says, is naturally\nworse provided for than any animal; even the divine gift of wisdom\nwould not save him from extinction without the priceless social virtues\nof justice and reverence, that is, the regard for public opinion\nwhich Mr. Darwin, too, has represented as the strongest moralising\npower in primitive society. And, as the possession of these qualities\nconstituted the fundamental distinction between men and brutes, so also\ndid the advantage of civilisation over barbarism rest on their superior\ndevelopment, a development due to the ethical instruction received by\nevery citizen from his earliest infancy, reinforced through after-life\nby the sterner correction of legal punishments, and completed by the\nelimination of all individuals demonstrably unfitted for the social\nstate. Protagoras had no sympathy with those who affect to prefer the\nsimplicity of savages to the fancied corruption of civilisation. Hear\nhow he answers the Rousseaus and Diderots of his time:\u2014\n\n \u2018I would have you consider that he who appears to you to be the worst\n of those who have been brought up in laws and humanities would appear\n to be a just man and a master of justice if he were to be compared\n with men who had no education, or courts of justice, or laws, or any\n restraints upon them which compelled them to practise virtue\u2014with\n the savages, for example, whom the poet Pherecrates exhibited on the\n stage at the last year\u2019s Lenaean festival. If you were living among\n men such as the man-haters in his chorus, you would be only too glad\n to meet with Eurybates and Phrynondas, and you would sorrowfully long\n to revisit the rascality of this part of the world.\u2019[68]\n\nWe find the same theory reproduced and enforced with weighty\nillustrations by the great historian of that age. It is not known\nwhether Thucydides owed any part of his culture to Protagoras, but\nthe introduction to his history breathes the same spirit as the\nobservations which we have just transcribed. He, too, characterises\nantiquity as a scene of barbarism, isolation, and lawless violence,\nparticularly remarking that piracy was not then counted a dishonourable\nprofession. He points to the tribes outside Greece, together with the\nmost backward among the Greeks themselves, as representing the low\ncondition from which Athens and her sister states had only emerged\nwithin a comparatively recent period. And in the funeral oration which\nhe puts into the mouth of Pericles, the legendary glories of Athens\nare passed over without the slightest allusion,[69] while exclusive\nprominence is given to her proud position as the intellectual centre of\nGreece. Evidently a radical change had taken place in men\u2019s conceptions\nsince Herodotus wrote. They were learning to despise the mythical\nglories of their ancestors, to exalt the present at the expense of the\npast, to fix their attention exclusively on immediate human interests,\nand, possibly, to anticipate the coming of a loftier civilisation than\nhad as yet been seen.\n\nThe evolution of Greek tragic poetry bears witness to the same\ntransformation of taste. On comparing Sophocles with Aeschylus, we\nare struck by a change of tone analogous to that which distinguishes\nThucydides from Herodotus. It has been shown in our first chapter how\nthe elder dramatist delights in tracing events and institutions back to\ntheir first origin, and in following derivations through the steps of\na genealogical sequence. Sophocles, on the other hand, limits himself\nto a close analysis of the action immediately represented, the motives\nby which his characters are influenced, and the arguments by which\ntheir conduct is justified or condemned. We have already touched on the\nvery different attitude assumed towards religion by these two great\npoets. Here we have only to add that while Aeschylus fills his dramas\nwith supernatural beings, and frequently restricts his mortal actors\nto the interpretation or execution of a divine mandate, Sophocles,\nrepresenting the spirit of Greek Humanism, only once brings a god on\nthe stage, and dwells exclusively on the emotions of pride, ambition,\nrevenge, terror, pity, and affection, by which men and women of a lofty\ntype are actuated. Again (and this is one of his poetic superiorities),\nAeschylus has an open sense for the external world; his imagination\nranges far and wide from land to land; his pages are filled with the\nfire and light, the music and movement of Nature in a Southern country.\nHe leads before us in splendid procession the starry-kirtled night;\nthe bright rulers that bring round winter and summer; the dazzling\nsunshine; the forked flashes of lightning; the roaring thunder; the\nwhite-winged snow-flakes; the rain descending on thirsty flowers; the\nsea now rippling with infinite laughter, now moaning on the shingle,\ngrowing hoary under rough blasts, with its eastern waves dashing\nagainst the new-risen sun, or, again, lulled to waveless, windless,\nnoonday sleep; the volcano with its volleys of fire-breathing spray\nand fierce jaws of devouring lava; the eddying whorls of dust; the\nresistless mountain-torrent; the meadow-dews; the flowers of spring\nand fruits of summer; the evergreen olive, and trees that give leafy\nshelter from dogstar heat. For all this world of wonder and beauty\nSophocles offers only a few meagre allusions to the phenomena presented\nby sunshine and storm. No poet has ever so entirely concentrated\nhis attention on human deeds and human passions. Only the grove of\nCol\u00f4nus, interwoven with his own earliest recollections, had power\nto draw from him, in extreme old age, a song such as the nightingale\nmight have warbled amid those inviolable recesses where the ivy and\nlaurel, the vine and olive gave a never-failing shelter against sun and\nwind alike. Yet even this leafy covert is but an image of the poet\u2019s\nown imagination, undisturbed by outward influences, self-involved,\nself-protected, and self-sustained. Of course, we are only restating\nin different language what has long been known, that the epic element\nof poetry, before so prominent, was with Sophocles entirely displaced\nby the dramatic; but if Sophocles became the greatest dramatist of\nantiquity, it was precisely because no other writer could, like him,\nwork out a catastrophe solely through the action of mind on mind,\nwithout any intervention of physical force; and if he possessed this\nfaculty, it was because Greek thought as a whole had been turned\ninward; because he shared in the devotion to psychological studies\nequally exemplified by his younger contemporaries, Protagoras,\nThucydides, and Socrates, all of whom might have taken for their motto\nthe noble lines\u2014\n\n    \u2018On earth there is nothing great but man,\n    In man there is nothing great but mind.\u2019\n\nWe have said that Protagoras was a partisan of Nomos, or convention,\nagainst Nature. That was the conservative side of his character.\nStill, Nomos was not with him what it had been with the older Greeks,\nan immutable tradition indistinguishable from physical law. It was a\nhuman creation, and represented the outcome of inherited experience,\nadmitting always of change for the better. Hence the vast importance\nwhich he attributed to education. This, no doubt, was magnifying\nhis own office, for the training of youth was his profession. But,\nunquestionably, the feelings of his more liberal contemporaries\nwent with him. A generation before, Pindar had spoken scornfully of\nintellectual culture as a vain attempt to make up for the absence of\ngenius which the gods alone could give. Yet Pindar himself was always\ncareful to dwell on the services rendered by professional trainers to\nthe victorious athletes whose praises he sang, and there was really\nno reason why genius and culture should be permanently dissociated. A\nThemistocles might decide offhand on the questions brought before him;\na Pericles, dealing with much more complex interests, already needed a\nmore careful preparation.\n\nOn the other hand, conservatives like Aristophanes continued to oppose\nthe spread of education with acrimonious zeal. Some of their arguments\nhave a curiously familiar ring. Intellectual pursuits, they said, were\nbad for the health, led to irreligion and immorality, made young people\nquite unlike their grandfathers, and were somehow or other connected\nwith loose company and a fast life. This last insinuation was in one\nrespect the very reverse of true. So far as personal morality went,\nnothing could be better for it than the change introduced by Protagoras\nfrom amateur to paid teaching. Before this time, a Greek youth who\nwished for something better than the very elementary instruction given\nat school, could only attach himself to some older and wiser friend,\nwhose conversation might be very improving, but who was pretty sure\nto introduce a sentimental element into their relationship equally\ndiscreditable to both.[70] A similar danger has always existed with\nregard to highly intelligent women, although it may have threatened\na smaller number of individuals; and the efforts now being made to\nprovide them with a systematic education under official superintendence\nwill incidentally have the effect of saving our future H\u00e9loises and\nJulies from the tuition of an Ab\u00e9lard or a Saint-Preux.\n\nIt was their habit of teaching rhetoric as an art which raised the\nfiercest storm of indignation against Protagoras and his colleagues.\nThe endeavour to discover rules for addressing a tribunal or a popular\nassembly in the manner best calculated to win their assent had\noriginated quite independently of any philosophical theory. On the\nre-establishment of order, that is to say of popular government, in\nSicily, many lawsuits arose out of events which had happened years\nbefore; and, owing to the lapse of time, demonstrative evidence was not\navailable. Accordingly, recourse was had on both sides to arguments\npossessing a greater or less degree of probability. The art of putting\nsuch probable inferences so as to produce persuasion demanded great\ntechnical skill; and two Sicilians, Corax and Tisias by name, composed\ntreatises on the subject. It would appear that the new-born art was\ntaken up by Protagoras and developed in the direction of increased\ndialectical subtlety. We are informed that he undertook to make the\nworse appear the better reason; and this very soon came to be popularly\nconsidered as an accomplishment taught by all philosophers, Socrates\namong the rest. But if Protagoras merely meant that he would teach the\nart of reasoning, one hardly sees how he could have expressed himself\notherwise, consistently with the antithetical style of his age. We\nshould say more simply that a case is strengthened by the ability to\nargue it properly. It has not been shown that the Protagorean dialectic\noffered exceptional facilities for maintaining unjust pretensions.\nTaken, however, in connexion with the humanistic teaching, it had an\nunsettling and sceptical tendency. All belief and all practice rested\non law, and law was the result of a convention made among men and\nultimately produced by individual conviction. What one man had done\nanother could undo. Religious tradition and natural right, the sole\nexternal standards, had already disappeared. There remained the test\nof self-consistency, and against this all the subtlety of the new\ndialectic was turned. The triumph of Eristic was to show that a speaker\nhad contradicted himself, no matter how his statements might be worded.\nMoreover, now that reference to an objective reality was disallowed,\nwords were put in the place of things and treated like concrete\nrealities. The next step was to tear them out of the grammatical\nconstruction, where alone they possessed any truth or meaning, each\nbeing simultaneously credited with all the uses which at any time it\nmight be made to fulfil. For example, if a man knew one thing he knew\nall, for he had knowledge, and knowledge is of everything knowable.\nMuch that seems to us tedious or superfluous in Aristotle\u2019s expositions\nwas intended as a safeguard against this endless cavilling. Finally,\nnegation itself was eliminated along with the possibility of falsehood\nand contradiction. For it was argued that \u2018nothing\u2019 had no existence\nand could not be an object of thought.[71]\n\n\nVI.\n\nFrom utter confusion to extreme nihilism there was but a single step.\nThis step was taken by Gorgias, the Sicilian rhetorician, who held\nthe same relation towards western Hellas and the Eleatic school as\nthat which Protagoras held towards eastern Hellas and the philosophy\nof Heracleitus. He, like his eminent contemporary, was opposed to the\nthinkers whom, borrowing a useful term from the nomenclature of the\nlast century, we may call the Greek physiocrats. To confute them,\nhe wrote a book with the significant title, _On Nature or Nothing_:\nmaintaining, first, that nothing exists; secondly, that if anything\nexists, we cannot know it; thirdly, that if we know it, there is no\npossibility of communicating our knowledge to others. The first thesis\nwas established by pushing the Eleatic arguments against movement\nand change a little further; the second by showing that thought and\nexistence are different, or else everything that is thought of would\nexist; the third by establishing a similar incommensurability between\nwords and sensations. Grote has attempted to show that Gorgias was\nonly arguing against the existence of a noumenon underlying phenomena,\nsuch as all idealists deny. Zeller has, however, convincingly proved\nthat Gorgias, in common with every other thinker before Plato, was\nignorant of this distinction;[72] and we may add that it would leave\nthe second and third theses absolutely unimpaired. We must take the\nwhole together as constituting a declaration of war against science,\nan assertion, in still stronger language, of the agnosticism taught\nby Protagoras. The truth is, that a Greek controversialist generally\noverproved his case, and in order to overwhelm an adversary pulled\ndown the whole house, even at the risk of being buried among the ruins\nhimself. A modern reasoner, taking his cue from Gorgias, without\npushing the matter to such an extreme, might carry on his attack on\nlines running parallel with those laid down by the Sicilian Sophist. He\nwould begin by denying the existence of a \u2018state of Nature\u2019; for such a\nstate must be either variable or constant. If it is constant, how could\ncivilisation ever have arisen? If it is variable, what becomes of the\nfixed standard appealed to? Then, again, supposing such a state ever\nto have existed, how could authentic information about it have come\ndown to us through the ages of corruption which are supposed to have\nintervened? And, lastly, granting that a state of Nature accessible to\nenquiry has ever existed, how can we reorganise society on the basis of\nsuch discordant data as are presented to us by the physiocrats, no two\nof whom agree with regard to the first principles of natural order; one\nsaying that it is equality, another aristocracy, and a third despotism?\nWe do not say that these arguments are conclusive, we only mean that\nin relation to modern thought they very fairly represent the dialectic\nartillery brought to bear by Greek humanism against its naturalistic\nopponents.\n\nWe have seen how Prodicus and Hippias professed to teach all science,\nall literature, and all virtuous accomplishments. We have seen how\nProtagoras rejected every kind of knowledge unconnected with social\nculture. We now find Gorgias going a step further. In his later years,\nat least, he professes to teach nothing but rhetoric or the art of\npersuasion. We say in his later years, for at one time he seems to have\ntaught ethics and psychology as well.[73] But the Gorgias of Plato\u2019s\nfamous dialogue limits himself to the power of producing persuasion\nby words on all possible subjects, even those of whose details he is\nignorant. Wherever the rhetorician comes into competition with the\nprofessional he will beat him on his own ground, and will be preferred\nto him for every public office. The type is by no means extinct, and\nflourishes like a green bay-tree among ourselves. Like Pendennis, a\nwriter of this kind will review any book from the height of superior\nknowledge acquired by two hours\u2019 reading in the British Museum; or,\nif he is adroit enough, will dispense with even that slender amount\nof preparation. He need not even trouble himself to read the book\nwhich he criticises. A superficial acquaintance with magazine articles\nwill qualify him to pass judgment on all life, all religion, and all\nphilosophy. But it is in politics that the finest career lies before\nhim. He rises to power by attacking the measures of real statesmen, and\nremains there by adopting them. He becomes Chancellor of the Exchequer\nby gross economical blundering, and Prime Minister by a happy mixture\nof epigram and adulation.\n\nRhetoric conferred even greater power in old Athens than in modern\nEngland. Not only did mastery of expression lead to public employment;\nbut also, as every citizen was permitted by law to address his\nassembled fellow-countrymen and propose measures for their acceptance,\nit became a direct passport to supreme political authority. Nor was\nthis all. At Athens the employment of professional advocates was\nnot allowed, and it was easy to prosecute an enemy on the most\nfrivolous pretexts. If the defendant happened to be wealthy, and\nif condemnation involved a loss of property, there was a prejudice\nagainst him in the minds of the jury, confiscation being regarded as\na convenient resource for replenishing the national exchequer. Thus\nthe possession of rhetorical ability became a formidable weapon in\nthe hands of unscrupulous citizens, who were enabled to extort large\nsums by the mere threat of putting rich men on their trial for some\nreal or pretended offence. This systematic employment of rhetoric for\npurposes of self-aggrandisement bore much the same relation to the\nteaching of Protagoras and Gorgias as the open and violent seizure of\nsupreme power on the plea of natural superiority bore to the theories\nof their rivals, being the way in which practical men applied the\nprinciple that truth is determined by persuasion. It was also attended\nby considerably less danger than a frank appeal to the right of the\nstronger, so far at least as the aristocratic party were concerned.\nFor they had been taught a lesson not easily forgotten by the downfall\nof the oligarchies established in 411 and 404; and the second\ncatastrophe especially proved that nothing but a popular government\nwas possible in Athens. Accordingly, the nobles set themselves to\nstudy new methods for obtaining their ultimate end, which was always\nthe possession of uncontrolled power over the lives and fortunes of\ntheir fellow-citizens. With wealth to purchase instruction from the\nSophists, with leisure to practise oratory, and with the ability often\naccompanying high birth, there was no reason why the successors of\nCharmides and Critias should not enjoy all the pleasures of tyranny\nunaccompanied by any of its drawbacks. Here, again, a parallel suggests\nitself between ancient Greece and modern Europe. On the Continent,\nwhere theories of natural law are far more prevalent than with us, it\nis by brute force that justice is trampled down: the one great object\nof every ambitious intriguer is to possess himself of the military\nmachine, his one great terror, that a stronger man may succeed in\nwresting it from him; in England the political adventurer looks to\nrhetoric as his only resource, and at the pinnacle of power has to\ndread the hailstorm of epigrammatic invective directed against him by\nabler or younger rivals.[74]\n\nBesides its influence on the formation and direction of political\neloquence, the doctrine professed by Protagoras had a far-reaching\neffect on the subsequent development of thought. Just as Cynicism was\nevolved from the theory of Hippias, so also did the teaching which\ndenied Nature and concentrated all study on subjective phenomena, with\na tendency towards individualistic isolation, lead on to the system of\nAristippus. The founder of the Cyrenaic school is called a Sophist by\nAristotle, nor can the justice of the appellation be doubted. He was,\nit is true, a friend and companion of Socrates, but intellectually\nhe is more nearly related to Protagoras. Aristippus rejected\nphysical studies, reduced all knowledge to the consciousness of our\nown sensations, and made immediate gratification the end of life.\nProtagoras would have objected to the last principle, but it was only\nan extension of his own views, for all history proves that Hedonism is\nconstantly associated with sensationalism. The theory that knowledge is\nbuilt up out of feelings has an elective affinity for the theory that\naction is, or ought to be, determined in the last resort by the most\nprominent feelings, which are pleasure and pain. Both theories have\nsince been strengthened by the introduction of a new and more ideal\nelement into each. We have come to see that knowledge is constituted\nnot by sensations alone, but by sensations grouped according to\ncertain laws which seem to be inseparable from the existence of any\nconsciousness whatever. And, similarly, we have learned to take into\naccount, not merely the momentary enjoyments of an individual, but his\nwhole life\u2019s happiness as well, and not his happiness only, but also\nthat of the whole community to which he belongs. Nevertheless, in both\ncases it is rightly held that the element of feeling preponderates, and\nthe doctrines of such thinkers as J. S. Mill are legitimately traceable\nthrough Epicurus and Aristippus to Protagoras as their first originator.\n\nNotwithstanding the importance of this impulse, it does not represent\nthe whole effect produced by Protagoras on philosophy. His eristic\nmethod was taken up by the Megaric school, and at first combined with\nother elements borrowed from Parmenides and Socrates, but ultimately\nextricated from them and used as a critical solvent of all dogmatism\nby the later Sceptics. From their writings, after a long interval of\nenforced silence, it passed over to Montaigne, Bayle, Hume, and Kant,\nwith what redoubtable consequences to received opinions need not here\nbe specified. Our object is simply to illustrate the continuity of\nthought, and the powerful influence exercised by ancient Greece on its\nsubsequent development.\n\nEvery variety of opinion current among the Sophists reduces itself,\nin the last analysis, to their fundamental antithesis between Nature\nand Law, the latter being somewhat ambiguously conceived by its\nsupporters as either human reason or human will, or more generally\nas both together, combining to assert their self-dependence and\nemancipation from external authority. This antithesis was prefigured in\nthe distinction between Chthonian and Olympian divinities. Continuing\nafterwards to inspire the rivalry of opposing schools, Cynic against\nCyrenaic, Stoic against Epicurean, Sceptic against Dogmatist, it was\nbut partially overcome by the mediatorial schemes of Socrates and his\nsuccessors. Then came Catholicism, equally adverse to the pretensions\nof either party, and held them down under its suffocating pressure for\nmore than a thousand years.\n\n    \u2018Natur und Geist, so spricht man nicht zu Christen,\n    Darum verbrennt man Atheisten;\n    Natur ist S\u00fcnde, Geist ist Teufel.\u2019\n\nBoth slowly struggled back into consciousness in the fitful dreams\nof mediaeval sleep. Nature was represented by astrology with its\nfatalistic predetermination of events; idealism by the alchemical\nlore which was to give its possessor eternal youth and inexhaustible\nwealth. With the complete revival of classic literature and the\ntemporary neutralisation of theology by internal discord, both sprang\nup again in glorious life, and produced the great art of the sixteenth\ncentury, the great science and philosophy of the seventeenth. Later\non, becoming self-conscious, they divide, and their partisans draw off\ninto two opposing armies, Rousseau against Voltaire, Herder against\nKant, Goethe against Schiller, Hume against himself. Together they\nbring about the Revolution; but after marching hand in hand to the\ndestruction of all existing institutions they again part company, and,\nputting on the frippery of a dead faith, confront one another, each\nwith its own ritual, its own acolytes, its own intolerance, with feasts\nof Nature and goddesses of Reason, in mutual and murderous hostility.\nWhen the storm subsided, new lines of demarcation were laid down, and\nthe cause of political liberty was dissociated from what seemed to be\nthoroughly discredited figments. Nevertheless, imaginative literature\nstill preserves traces of the old conflict, and on examining the four\ngreatest English novelists of the last fifty years we shall find that\nDickens and Charlotte Bront\u00e9, though personally most unlike, agree\nin representing the arbitrary, subjective, ideal side of life, the\nsubjugation of things to self, not of self to things; he transfiguring\nthem in the light of humour, fancy, sentiment; she transforming\nthem by the alchemy of inward passion; while Thackeray and George\nEliot represent the triumph of natural forces over rebellious\nindividualities; the one writer depicting an often crude reality at\nodds with convention and conceit; while the other, possessing, if\nnot an intrinsically greater genius, at least a higher philosophical\nculture, discloses to us the primordial necessities of existence, the\npitiless conformations of circumstance, before which egoism, ignorance,\nillusion, and indecision must bow, or be crushed to pieces if they\nresist.\n\n\nVII.\n\nOur readers have now before them everything of importance that is\nknown about the Sophists, and something more that is not known for\ncertain, but may, we think, be reasonably conjectured. Taking the\nwhole class together, they represent a combination of three distinct\ntendencies, the endeavour to supply an encyclopaedic training for\nyouth, the cultivation of political rhetoric as a special art, and\nthe search after a scientific foundation for ethics derived from the\nresults of previous philosophy. With regard to the last point, they\nagree in drawing a fundamental distinction between Nature and Law,\nbut some take one and some the other for their guide. The partisans\nof Nature lean to the side of a more comprehensive education, while\ntheir opponents tend more and more to lay an exclusive stress on\noratorical proficiency. Both schools are at last infected by the\nmoral corruption of the day, natural right becoming identified with\nthe interest of the stronger, and humanism leading to the denial of\nobjective reality, the substitution of illusion for knowledge, and the\nconfusion of momentary gratification with moral good. The dialectical\nhabit of considering every question under contradictory aspects\ndegenerates into eristic prize-fighting and deliberate disregard\nof the conditions which alone make argument possible. Finally, the\ncomponent elements of Sophisticism are dissociated from one another,\nand are either separately developed or pass over into new combinations.\nRhetoric, apart from speculation, absorbs the whole time and talent\nof an Isocrates; general culture is imparted by a professorial class\nwithout originality, but without reproach; naturalism and sensuous\nidealism are worked up into systematic completion for the sake of their\nphilosophical interest alone; and the name of sophistry is unhappily\nfastened by Aristotle on paid exhibitions of verbal wrangling which the\ngreat Sophists would have regarded with indignation and disgust.\n\nIt remains for us to glance at the controversy which has long been\ncarried on respecting the true position of the Sophists in Greek life\nand thought. We have already alluded to the by no means favourable\njudgment passed on them by some among their contemporaries. Socrates\ncondemned them severely,[H] but only because they received payment for\ntheir lessons; and the sentiment was probably echoed by many who had\nneither his disinterestedness nor his frugality. To make profit by\nintellectual work was not unusual in Greece. Pheidias sold his statues;\nPindar spent his life writing for money; Simonides and Sophocles were\ncharged with showing too great eagerness in the pursuit of gain.[75]\nBut a man\u2019s conversation with his friends had always been gratuitous,\nand the novel idea of charging a high fee for it excited considerable\noffence. Socrates called it prostitution\u2014the sale of that which should\nbe the free gift of love\u2014without perhaps sufficiently considering\nthat the same privilege had formerly been purchased with a more\ndishonourable price. He also considered that a freeman was degraded\nby placing himself at the beck and call of another, although it would\nappear that the Sophists chose their own time for lecturing, and were\ncertainly not more slaves than a sculptor or poet who had received an\norder to execute. It was also argued that any one who really succeeded\nin improving the community benefited so much by the result that it\nwas unfair on his part to demand any additional remuneration. Suppose\na popular preacher were to come over from New York to England, star\nabout among the principal cities, charging a high price for admission\nto his sermons, and finally return home in possession of a handsome\nfortune, we can well imagine that sarcasms at the expense of such\nprofitable piety would not be wanting. This hypothetical case will help\nus to understand how many an honest Athenian must have felt towards the\nshowy colonial strangers who were making such a lucrative business of\nteaching moderation and justice. Plato, speaking for his master but not\nfrom his master\u2019s standpoint, raised an entirely different objection.\nHe saw no reason why the Sophists should not sell their wisdom if\nthey had any wisdom to sell. But this was precisely what he denied.\nHe submitted their pretensions to a searching cross-examination,\nand, as he considered, convicted them of being worthless pretenders.\nThere was a certain unfairness about this method, for neither his\nown positive teaching nor that of Socrates could have stood before\na similar test, as Aristotle speedily demonstrated in the next\ngeneration. He was, in fact, only doing for Protagoras and Gorgias\nwhat they had done for early Greek speculation, and what every school\nhabitually does for its predecessors. It had yet to be learned that\nthis dissolving dialectic constitutes the very law of philosophical\nprogress. The discovery was made by Hegel, and it is to him that the\nSophists owe their rehabilitation in modern times. His lectures on\nthe History of Philosophy contain much that was afterwards urged by\nGrote on the same side. Five years before the appearance of Grote\u2019s\nfamous sixty-seventh chapter, Lewes had also published a vindication\nof the Sophists, possibly suggested by Hegel\u2019s work, which he had\ncertainly consulted when preparing his own History. There is, however,\nthis great difference, that while the two English critics endeavour\nto minimise the sceptical, innovating tendency of the Sophists, it\nis, contrariwise, brought into exaggerated prominence by the German\nphilosopher. We have just remarked that the final dissolution of\nSophisticism was brought about by the separate development given to\neach of the various tendencies which it temporarily combined. Now,\neach of our three apologists has taken up one of these tendencies, and\ntreated it as constituting the whole movement under discussion. To\nHegel, the Sophists are chiefly subjective idealists. To Lewes, they\nare rhetoricians like Isocrates. To Grote, they are, what in truth the\nSophists of the Roman empire were, teachers representing the standard\nopinions of their age. Lewes and Grote are both particularly anxious\nto prove that the original Sophists did not corrupt Greek morality.\nThus much has been conceded by contemporary German criticism, and is\nno more than was observed by Plato long ago. Grote further asserts\nthat the implied corruption of morality is an illusion, and that at\nthe end of the Peloponnesian war the Athenians were no worse than\ntheir forefathers who fought at Marathon. His opinion is shared by\nso accomplished a scholar as Prof. Jowett;[76] but here he has the\ncombined authority of Thucydides, Aristophanes, and Plato against him.\nWe have, however, examined this question already, and need not return\nto it. Whether any of the Sophists themselves can be proved to have\ntaught immoral doctrines is another moot point. Grote defends them\nall, Polus and Thrasymachus included. Here, also, we have expressed\nour dissent from the eminent historian, whom we can only suppose to\nhave missed the whole point of Plato\u2019s argument. Lewes takes different\nground when he accuses Plato of misrepresenting his opponents. It is\ntrue that the Sophists cannot be heard in self-defence, but there is\nno internal improbability about the charges brought against them. The\nGreek rhetoricians are not accused of saying anything that has not been\nsaid again and again by their modern representatives. Whether the odium\nof such sentiments should attach itself to the whole class of Sophists\nis quite another question. Grote denies that they held any doctrine in\ncommon. The German critics, on the other hand, insist on treating them\nas a school with common principles and tendencies. Brandis calls them\n\u2018a number of men, gifted indeed, but not seekers after knowledge for\nits own sake, who made a trade of giving instruction as a means for\nthe attainment of external and selfish ends, and of substituting mere\ntechnical proficiency for real science.\u2019[77] If our account be the true\none, this would apply to Gorgias and the younger rhetoricians alone.\nOne does not precisely see what external or selfish ends were subserved\nby the physical philosophy which Prodicus and Hippias taught, nor\nwhy the comprehensive enquiries of Protagoras into the conditions of\ncivilisation and the limits of human knowledge should be contemptuously\nflung aside because he made them the basis of an honourable profession.\nZeller, in much the same strain, defines a Sophist as one who professes\nto be a teacher of wisdom, while his object is individual culture (die\nformelle und praktische Bildung des Subjekts) and not the scientific\ninvestigation of truth.[78] We do not know whether Grote was content\nwith an explanation which would only have required an unimportant\nmodification of his own statements to agree precisely with them. It\nought amply to have satisfied Lewes. For ourselves, we must confess to\ncaring very little whether the Sophists investigated truth for its own\nsake or as a means to self-culture. We believe, and in the next chapter\nwe hope to show, that Socrates, at any rate, did not treat knowledge\napart from practice as an end in itself. But the history of philosophy\nis not concerned with such subtleties as these. Our contention is that\nthe Stoic, Epicurean, and Sceptical schools may be traced back through\nAntisthenes and Aristippus to Hippias and Protagoras much more directly\nthan to Socrates. If Zeller will grant this, then he can no longer\ntreat Sophisticism as a mere solvent of the old physical philosophy.\nIf he denies it, we can only appeal to his own history, which here, as\nwell as in our discussions of early Greek thought, we have found more\nuseful than any other work on the subject. Our obligations to Grote\nare of a more general character. We have learned from him to look at\nthe Sophists without prejudice. But we think that he, too, underrates\ntheir far-reaching intellectual significance, while his defence of\ntheir moral orthodoxy seems, so far as certain members of the class are\nconcerned, inconsistent with any belief in Plato\u2019s historical fidelity.\nThat the most eminent Sophists did nothing to corrupt Greek morality\nis now almost universally admitted. If we have succeeded in showing\nthat they did not corrupt but fruitfully develop Greek philosophy, the\npurpose of this study will have been sufficiently fulfilled.\n\nThe title of this chapter may have seemed to promise more than a\ncasual mention of the thinker in whom Greek Humanism attained its\nloftiest and purest expression. But in history, no less than in life,\nSocrates must ever stand apart from the Sophists. Beyond and above all\nspecialities of teaching, the transcendent dignity of a character which\npersonified philosophy itself demands a separate treatment. Readers who\nhave followed us thus far may feel interested in an attempt to throw\nsome new light on one who was a riddle to his contemporaries, and has\nremained a riddle to after-ages.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[43] \u2018Thou shalt not take that which is mine, and may I do to others as\nI would that they should do to me\u2019 (Plato, _Legg._, 913, A. Jowett\u2019s\nTransl., vol. V., p. 483). Isocrates makes a king addressing his\ngovernors say: \u2018You should be to others what you think I should be to\nyou\u2019 (_Nicocles_, 49). And again: \u2018Do not to others what it makes you\nangry to suffer yourselves\u2019 (_Ibid._, 61). A similar observation is\nattributed to Thales, doubtless by an anachronism (Diogenes Laertius,\nI., i., 36).\n\n[44] We gladly avail ourselves of the masterly translation given by\nProf. Jebb. The whole of this splendid passage will be found in his\n_Attic Orators_, vol. II., pp. 78-79.\n\n[45] _Symposium_, 211, C; Jowett\u2019s Transl., vol. II.\n\n[46] Aesch., _Sep. con. Theb._, 592.\n\n[47] _Legg._, 727, E; Jowett\u2019s Transl., V, 299.\n\n[48] See Plato\u2019s _Charmides_; and Euripides\u2019 _Medea_, 635 (Dindorf).\n\n[49] Pindar uses \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2 and \u03bc\u03ad\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd as synonymous terms.\n\n[50] _Opp. et D._, 271.\n\n[51] Hom. _Il._, IV., 160, 235; VII., 76, 411; XVI., 386. Hes., _Opp.\net D._, 265. These references are copied from Welcker, _Griechische\nG\u00f6tterlehre_, I., p. 178, q. v.\n\n[52] See Maine\u2019s _Ancient Law_, chap. X., _The Early History of Delict\nand Crime_.\n\n[53] Preller, _Griechische Mythologie_, I., p. 523 (3rd ed.), with\nwhich cf. Welcker, _op. cit._, I., 234; and Mr. Walter Pater\u2019s _Demeter\nand Persephone_, and _A Study of Dionysus_, in the _Fortnightly Review_\nfor Jan., Feb., and Dec. 1876. From their popular character, the\ncountry gods were favoured by the despots (Curtius, _Gr. Gesch._, I.,\np. 338).\n\n[54] Cf. Wordsworth\u2014\n\n    \u2018Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong,\n    And the most ancient heavens through thee are fresh and strong.\u2019\n                                               _Ode to Duty._\n\n[55] Pindar, _Olymp._, II., 57 ff.; and _Fragm._, 1-4 (Donaldson).\n\n[56] _Sep. con. Theb._, 662-71.\n\n[57] _Phoenissae_, 503-23.\n\n[58]\n\n    \u039f\u1f50 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u1ff3 \u03b3\u2019 \u1f51\u03c0\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03bd\u1fe6\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5\u03c9\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\n    \u03c0\u03bb\u1f74\u03bd \u1f22 \u03a0\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u1ff3, \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b3\u03bd\u03ce\u03bc\u03b7\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f55\u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03b1 \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb.\u2014\n                        _Nub._, 361-2. Cf. _Av._, 692.\n\n[59] Plato, _Protagoras_, 337, D; Jowett\u2019s Transl., vol. I., p. 152.\n\n[60] _Nem._, VI., _sub. in._\n\n[61] _Prom._, 518.\n\n[62] _Phoenissae_, 536-47. There is a delicious parody of this method\nin the _Clouds_. A creditor asks Strepsiades, who has been taking\nlessons in philosophy, to pay him the interest on a loan. Strepsiades\nbegs to know whether the sea is any fuller now than it used to be.\n\u2018No,\u2019 replies the other, \u2018for it would not be just,\u2019 (\u03bf\u1f50 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\n\u03c0\u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9). \u2018Then, you wretch,\u2019 rejoins his debtor, \u2018do you suppose\nthat the sea is not to get any fuller although all the rivers are\nflowing into it, and that your money is to go on increasing?\u2019 (1290-95.)\n\n[63] Xenophon, _Memor._, IV., iv., 19.\n\n[64] _Pol._, I., ii.\n\n[65] The _Hippias Minor_.\n\n[66] Diog. L., IX., viii., 54.\n\n[67] Diog. L., IX., viii., 51.\n\n[68] Plato, _Protagoras_, 327; Jowett\u2019s Transl., vol. I., p. 140. On\nthe superior morality which accompanies advancing civilisation, as\nevinced by the great increase of mutual trust, see Maine\u2019s _Ancient\nLaw_, pp. 306-7.\n\n[69] This point is noticed by Zeller, _Ph. d. Gr._, II., 22.\n\n[70] This phase of Greek life is well illustrated by the addresses of\nTheognis to Cyrnus.\n\n[71] Eristicism had also points of contact with the philosophies of\nParmenides and Socrates which will be indicated in a future chapter.\n\n[72] _Ph. d. Gr._, I., 903 (3rd ed.).\n\n[73] See Plato\u2019s _Meno_, _sub. in._\n\n[74] Lord Beaconsfield recently [written in February 1880] spoke of the\nBalkans as forming an \u2018intelligible\u2019 frontier for Turkey. Continental\ntelegrams substituted \u2018natural frontier.\u2019 The change was characteristic\nand significant.\n\n[75] Aristoph., _Pax_, 697.\n\n[76] \u2018As Mr. Grote remarks, there is no reason to suspect any greater\nmoral corruption in the age of Demosthenes than in the age of\nPericles.\u2019 (_The Dialogues of Plato_, vol. IV., p. 380.) We do not\nremember that Grote commits himself to such a sweeping statement, nor\nwas it necessary for his purpose to do so. No one would have been more\nsurprised than Demosthenes himself to hear that the Athenians of his\ngeneration equalled the contemporaries of Pericles in public virtue.\n(Cf. Grote\u2019s _Plato_, II., 148.)\n\n[77] _Geschichte der Entwickelung der Griechischen Philosophie_, I., p.\n204.\n\n[78] _Philosophie d. Gr._, I., p. 943 (3rd ed.).\n\n[79] The invention of memoir-writing is claimed by Prof. Mahaffy\n(_Hist. Gr. Lit._, II., 42) for Ion of Chios and his contemporary\nStesimbrotus. But\u2014apart from their questionable authenticity\u2014the\nsketches attributed to these two writers do not seem to have aimed at\npresenting a complete picture of a single individual, which is what was\nattempted with considerable success in Xenophon\u2019s _Memorabilia_.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nTHE PLACE OF SOCRATES IN GREEK PHILOSOPHY.\n\n\nI.\n\nApart from legendary reputations, there is no name in the world\u2019s\nhistory more famous than that of Socrates, and in the history of\nphilosophy there is none so famous. The only thinker that approaches\nhim in celebrity is his own disciple Plato. Every one who has heard\nof Greece or Athens has heard of him. Every one who has heard of him\nknows that he was supremely good and great. Each successive generation\nhas confirmed the reputed Delphic oracle that no man was wiser than\nSocrates. He, with one or two others, alone came near to realising the\nideal of a Stoic sage. Christians deem it no irreverence to compare\nhim with the Founder of their religion. If a few dissentient voices\nhave broken the general unanimity, they have, whether consciously or\nnot, been inspired by the Socratic principle that we should let no\nopinion pass unquestioned and unproved. Furthermore, it so happens\nthat this wonderful figure is known even to the multitude by sight as\nwell as by name. Busts, cameos, and engravings have made all familiar\nwith the Silenus-like physiognomy, the thick lips, upturned nose,\nand prominent eyes which impressed themselves so strangely on the\nimagination of a race who are accused of having cared for nothing\nbut physical beauty, because they rightly regarded it as the natural\naccompaniment of moral loveliness. Those who wish to discover what\nmanner of mind lay hid beneath this uninviting exterior may easily\nsatisfy their curiosity, for Socrates is personally better known\nthan any other character of antiquity. Dr. Johnson himself is not\na more familiar figure to the student of literature. Alone among\nclassical worthies his table-talk has been preserved for us, and the\nart of memoir-writing seems to have been expressly created for his\nbehoof.[79] We can follow him into all sorts of company and test his\nbehaviour in every variety of circumstances. He conversed with all\nclasses and on all subjects of human interest, with artisans, artists,\ngenerals, statesmen, professors, and professional beauties. We meet\nhim in the armourer\u2019s workshop, in the sculptor\u2019s studio, in the\nboudoirs of the _demi-monde_, in the banqueting-halls of flower-crowned\nand wine-flushed Athenian youth, combining the self-mastery of an\nAntisthenes with the plastic grace of an Aristippus; or, in graver\nmoments, cheering his comrades during the disastrous retreat from\nDelium; upholding the sanctity of law, as President of the Assembly,\nagainst a delirious populace; confronting with invincible irony the\noligarchic terrorists who held life and death in their hands; pleading\nnot for himself, but for reason and justice, before a stupid and\nbigoted tribunal; and, in the last sad scene of all, exchanging Attic\ncourtesies with the unwilling instrument of his death.[80]\n\nSuch a character would, in any case, be remarkable; it becomes of\nextraordinary, or rather of unique, interest when we consider that\nSocrates could be and do so much, not in spite of being a philosopher,\nbut because he was a philosopher, the chief though not the sole\noriginator of a vast intellectual revolution; one who, as a teacher,\nconstituted the supremacy of reason, and as an individual made\nreason his sole guide in life. He at once discovered new principles,\npopularised them for the benefit of others, and exemplified them in\nhis own conduct; but he did not accomplish these results separately;\nthey were only different aspects of the same systematising process\nwhich is identical with philosophy itself. Yet the very success of\nSocrates in harmonising life and thought makes it the more difficult\nfor us to construct a complete picture of his personality. Different\nobservers have selected from the complex combination that which best\nsuited their own mental predisposition, pushing out of sight the other\nelements which, with him, served to correct and complete it. The very\npopularity that has attached itself to his name is a proof of this; for\nthe multitude can seldom appreciate more than one excellence at a time,\nnor is that usually of the highest order. Hegel complains that Socrates\nhas been made the patron-saint of moral twaddle.[81] We are fifty\nyears further removed than Hegel from the golden age of platitude; the\ntwaddle of our own time is half cynical, half aesthetic, and wholly\nunmoral; yet there are no signs of diminution in the popular favour\nwith which Socrates has always been regarded. The man of the world, the\nwit, the _viveur_, the enthusiastic admirer of youthful beauty, the\nscornful critic of democracy is welcome to many who have no taste for\nethical discourses and fine-spun arguments.\n\nNor is it only the personality of Socrates that has been so variously\nconceived; his philosophy, so far as it can be separated from his\nlife, has equally given occasion to conflicting interpretations, and\nit has even been denied that he had, properly speaking, any philosophy\nat all. These divergent presentations of his teaching, if teaching it\ncan be called, begin with the two disciples to whom our knowledge of\nit is almost entirely due. There is, curiously enough, much the same\ninner discrepancy between Xenophon\u2019s _Memorabilia_ and those Platonic\ndialogues where Socrates is the principal spokesman, as that which\ndistinguishes the Synoptic from the Johannine Gospels. The one gives\nus a report certainly authentic, but probably incomplete; the other\naccount is, beyond all doubt, a highly idealised portraiture, but seems\nto contain some traits directly copied from the original, which may\nwell have escaped a less philosophical observer than Plato. Aristotle\nalso furnishes us with some scanty notices which are of use in deciding\nbetween the two rival versions, although we cannot be sure that he had\naccess to any better sources of information than are open to ourselves.\nBy variously combining and reasoning from these data modern critics\nhave produced a third Socrates, who is often little more than the\nembodiment of their own favourite opinions.\n\nIn England, the most generally accepted method seems to be that\nfollowed by Grote. This consists in taking the Platonic _Apologia_ as a\nsufficiently faithful report of the defence actually made by Socrates\non his trial, and piecing it on to the details supplied by Xenophon, or\nat least to as many of them as can be made to fit, without too obvious\nan accommodation of their meaning. If, however, we ask on what grounds\na greater historical credibility is attributed to the _Apologia_ than\nto the _Republic_ or the _Phaedo_, none can be offered except the\nseemingly transparent truthfulness of the narrative itself, an argument\nwhich will not weigh much with those who remember how brilliant was\nPlato\u2019s talent for fiction, and how unscrupulously it could be employed\nfor purposes of edification. The _Phaedo_ puts an autobiographical\nstatement into the mouth of Socrates which we only know to be imaginary\nbecause it involves the acceptance of a theory unknown to the real\nSocrates. Why, then, may not Plato have thought proper to introduce\nequally fictitious details into the speech delivered by his master\nbefore the dicastery, if, indeed, the speech, as we have it, be not a\nfancy composition from beginning to end?\n\nBefore we can come to a decision on this point it will be necessary\nbriefly to recapitulate the statements in question. Socrates is\ndefending himself against a capital charge. He fears that a prejudice\nrespecting him may exist in the minds of the jury, and tries to explain\nhow it arose without any fault of his, as follows:\u2014A certain friend of\nhis had asked the oracle at Delphi whether there was any man wiser than\nSocrates? The answer was that no man was wiser. Not being conscious of\npossessing any wisdom, great or small, he felt considerably surprised\non hearing of this declaration, and thought to convince the god of\nfalsehood by finding out some one wiser than himself. He first went\nto an eminent politician, who, however, proved, on examination, to be\nutterly ignorant, with the further disadvantage that it was impossible\nto convince him of his ignorance. On applying the same test to others a\nprecisely similar result was obtained. It was only the handicraftsmen\nwho could give a satisfactory account of themselves, and their\nknowledge of one trade made them fancy that they understood everything\nelse equally well. Thus the meaning of the oracle was shown to be that\nGod alone is truly wise, and that of all men he is wisest who, like\nSocrates, perceives that human wisdom is worth little or nothing. Ever\nsince then, Socrates has made it his business to vindicate the divine\nveracity by seeking out and exposing every pretender to knowledge that\nhe can find, a line of conduct which has made him extremely unpopular\nin Athens, while it has also won him a great reputation for wisdom,\nas people supposed that the matters on which he convicted others of\nignorance were perfectly clear to himself.\n\nThe first difficulty that strikes one in connexion with this\nextraordinary story arises out of the oracle on which it all hinges.\nHad such a declaration been really made by the Pythia, would not\nXenophon have eagerly quoted it as a proof of the high favour in which\nhis hero stood with the gods?[82] And how could Socrates have acquired\nso great a reputation before entering on the cross-examining career\nwhich alone made him conscious of any superiority over other men, and\nhad alone won the admiration of his fellow-citizens? Our doubts are\nstill further strengthened when we find that the historical Socrates\ndid not by any means profess the sweeping scepticism attributed to\nhim by Plato. So far from believing that ignorance was the common and\nnecessary lot of all mankind, himself included, he held that action\nshould, so far as possible, be entirely guided by knowledge;[83] that\nthe man who did not always know what he was about resembled a slave;\nthat the various virtues were only different forms of knowledge; that\nhe himself possessed this knowledge, and was perfectly competent to\nshare it with his friends. We do, indeed, find him very ready to\nconvince ignorant and presumptuous persons of their deficiencies,\nbut only that he may lead them, if well disposed, into the path of\nright understanding. He also thought that there were certain secrets\nwhich would remain for ever inaccessible to the human intellect,\nfacts connected with the structure of the universe which the gods\nhad reserved for their own exclusive cognisance. This, however,\nwas, according to him, a kind of knowledge which, even if it could\nbe obtained, would not be particularly worth having, and the search\nafter which would leave us no leisure for more useful acquisitions.\nNor does the Platonic Socrates seem to have been at the trouble of\narguing against natural science. The subjects of his elenchus are the\nprofessors of such arts as politics, rhetoric, and poetry. Further,\nwe have something stronger than a simple inference from the facts\nrecorded by Xenophon; we have his express testimony to the fact that\nSocrates did not limit himself to confuting people who fancied they\nknew everything; here we must either have a direct reference to the\n_Apologia_, or to a theory identical with that which it embodies.[I]\nSome stress has been laid on a phrase quoted by Xenophon himself as\nhaving been used by Hippias, which at first sight seems to support\nPlato\u2019s view. The Elian Sophist charges Socrates with practising a\ncontinual irony, refuting others and not submitting to be questioned\nhimself;[84] an accusation which, we may observe in passing, is not\nborne out by the discussion that subsequently takes place between\nthem. Here, however, we must remember that Socrates used to convey\ninstruction under the form of a series of leading questions, the\nanswers to which showed that his interlocutor understood and assented\nto the doctrine propounded. Such a method might easily give rise to\nthe misconception that he refused to disclose his own particular\nopinions, and contented himself with eliciting those held by others.\nFinally, it is to be noted that the idea of fulfilling a religious\nmission, or exposing human ignorance _ad majorem Dei gloriam_, on which\nGrote lays such stress, has no place in Xenophon\u2019s conception of his\nmaster, although, had such an idea been really present, one can hardly\nimagine how it could have been passed over by a writer with whom piety\namounted to superstition. It is, on the other hand, an idea which would\nnaturally occur to a great religious reformer who proposed to base his\nreconstruction of society on faith in a supernatural order, and the\ndesire to realise it here below.\n\nSo far we have contrasted the _Apologia_ with the _Memorabilia_. We\nhave now to consider in what relation it stands to Plato\u2019s other\nwritings. The constructive dogmatic Socrates, who is a principal\nspokesman in some of them, differs widely from the sceptical Socrates\nof the famous _Defence_, and the difference has been urged as an\nargument for the historical authenticity of the latter.[85] Plato, it\nis implied, would not have departed so far from his usual conception\nof the sage, had he not been desirous of reproducing the actual\nwords spoken on so solemn an occasion. There are, however, several\ndialogues which seem to have been composed for the express purpose of\nillustrating the negative method supposed to have been described by\nSocrates to his judges, investigations the sole result of which is to\nupset the theories of other thinkers, or to show that ordinary men\nact without being able to assign a reason for their conduct. Even the\n_Republic_ is professedly tentative in its procedure, and only follows\nout a train of thought which has presented itself almost by accident\nto the company. Unlike Charles Lamb\u2019s Scotchman, the leading spokesman\ndoes not bring, but find, and you are invited to cry halves to whatever\nturns up in his company.\n\nPlato had, in truth, a conception of science which no knowledge then\nattained\u2014perhaps one may add, no knowledge ever attainable\u2014could\ncompletely satisfy. Even the rigour of mathematical demonstration did\nnot content him, for mathematical truth itself rested on unproved\nassumptions, as we also, by the way, have lately discovered. Perhaps\nthe Hegelian system would have fulfilled his requirements; perhaps\nnot even that. Moreover, that the new order which he contemplated\nmight be established, it was necessary to begin by making a clean\nsweep of all existing opinions. With the urbanity of an Athenian, the\npiety of a disciple, and the instinct of a great dramatic artist, he\npreferred to assume that this indispensable task had already been done\nby another. And of all preceding thinkers, who was so well qualified\nfor the undertaking as Socrates? Who else had wielded the weapons of\nnegative dialectic with such consummate dexterity? Who had assumed such\na critical attitude towards the beliefs of his contemporaries? Who\nhad been so anxious to find a point of attachment for every new truth\nin the minds of his interlocutors? Who therefore could, with such\nplausibility, be put forward in the guise of one who laid claim to no\nwisdom on his own account? The son of Phaenaret\u00ea seemed made to be the\nBaptist of a Greek Messiah; but Plato, in treating him as such, has\ndrawn a discreet veil over the whole positive side of his predecessor\u2019s\nteaching, and to discover what this was we must place ourselves under\nthe guidance of Xenophon\u2019s more faithful report.\n\nNot that Xenophon is to be taken as a perfectly accurate exponent of\nthe Socratic philosophy. His work, it must be remembered, was primarily\nintended to vindicate Socrates from a charge of impiety and immoral\nteaching, not to expound a system which he was perhaps incompetent\nto appreciate or understand. We are bound to accept everything that\nhe relates; we are bound to include nothing that he does not relate;\nbut we may fairly readjust the proportions of his sketch. It is here\nthat a judicious use of Plato will furnish us with the most valuable\nassistance. He grasped Socratism in all its parts and developed it in\nall directions, so that by following back the lines of his system to\ntheir origin we shall be put on the proper track and shall know where\nto look for the suggestions which were destined to be so magnificently\nworked out.[86]\n\n\nII.\n\nBefore entering on our task of reconstruction, we must turn aside to\nconsider with what success the same enterprise has been attempted\nby modern German criticism, especially by its chief contemporary\nrepresentative, the last and most distinguished historian of Greek\nphilosophy. The result at which Zeller, following Schleiermacher,\narrives is that the great achievement of Socrates was to put forward an\nadequate idea of knowledge; in other words, to show what true science\nought to be, and what, as yet, it had never been, with the addition\nof a demand that all action should be based on such a scientific\nknowledge as its only sure foundation.[87] To know a thing was to know\nits essence, its concept, the assemblage of qualities which together\nconstitute its definition, and make it to be what it is. Former\nthinkers had also sought for knowledge, but not _as_ knowledge, not\nwith a clear notion of what it was that they really wanted. Socrates,\non the other hand, required that men should always be prepared to give\na strict account of the end which they had in view, and of the means\nby which they hoped to gain it. Further, it had been customary to\nsingle out for exclusive attention that quality of an object by which\nthe observer happened to be most strongly impressed, passing over\nall the others; the consequence of which was that the philosophers\nhad taken a one-sided view of facts, with the result of falling into\nhopeless disagreement among themselves; the Sophists had turned these\ncontradictory points of view against one another, and thus effected\ntheir mutual destruction; while the dissolution of objective certainty\nhad led to a corresponding dissolution of moral truth. Socrates accepts\nthe Sophistic scepticism so far as it applies to the existing state of\nscience, but does not push it to the same fatal conclusion; he grants\nthat current beliefs should be thoroughly sifted and, if necessary,\ndiscarded, but only that more solid convictions may be substituted for\nthem. Here a place is found for his method of self-examination, and\nfor the self-conscious ignorance attributed to him by Plato. Comparing\nhis notions on particular subjects with his idea of what knowledge in\ngeneral ought to be, he finds that they do not satisfy it; he knows\nthat he knows nothing. He then has recourse to other men who declare\nthat they possess the knowledge of which he is in search, but their\npretended certainty vanishes under the application of his dialectic\ntest. This is the famous Socratic irony. Finally, he attempts to come\nat real knowledge, that is to say, the construction of definitions,\nby employing that inductive method with the invention of which he\nis credited by Aristotle. This method consists in bringing together\na number of simple and familiar examples from common experience,\ngeneralising from them, and correcting the generalisations by\ncomparison with negative instances. The reasons that led Socrates to\nrestrict his enquiries to human interests are rather lightly passed\nover by Zeller; he seems at a loss how to reconcile the alleged reform\nof scientific method with the complete abandonment of those physical\ninvestigations which, we are told, had suffered so severely from being\ncultivated on a different system.\n\nThere seem to be three principal points aimed at in the very ingenious\ntheory which we have endeavoured to summarise as adequately as space\nwould permit. Zeller apparently wishes to bring Socrates into line with\nthe great tradition of early Greek thought, to distinguish him markedly\nfrom the Sophists, and to trace back to his initiative the intellectual\nmethod of Plato and Aristotle. We cannot admit that the threefold\nattempt has succeeded. It seems to us that a picture into which so\nmuch Platonic colouring has been thrown would for that reason alone,\nand without any further objection, be open to very grave suspicion.\nBut even accepting the historical accuracy of everything that Plato\nhas said, or of as much as may be required, our critic\u2019s inferences\nare not justified by his authorities. Neither the Xenophontic nor the\nPlatonic Socrates seeks knowledge for its own sake, nor does either\nof them offer a satisfactory definition of knowledge, or, indeed, any\ndefinition at all. Aristotle was the first to explain what science\nmeant, and he did so, not by developing the Socratic notion, but by\nincorporating it with the other methods independently struck out\nby physical philosophy. What would science be without the study of\ncausation? and was not this ostentatiously neglected by the founder of\nconceptualism? Again, Plato, in the _Theaet\u00eatus_, makes his Socrates\ncriticise various theories of knowledge, but does not even hint that\nthe critic had himself a better theory than any of them in reserve.\nThe author of the _Phaedo_ and the _Republic_ was less interested in\nreforming the methods of scientific investigation than in directing\nresearch towards that which he believed to be alone worth knowing,\nthe eternal ideas which underlie phenomena. The historical Socrates\nhad no suspicion of transcendental realities; but he thought that\na knowledge of physics was unattainable, and would be worthless if\nattained. By knowledge he meant art rather than science, and his\nmethod of defining was intended not for the latter but for the former.\nThose, he said, who can clearly express what they want to do are best\nsecured against failure, and best able to communicate their skill to\nothers. He made out that the various virtues were different kinds of\nknowledge, not from any extraordinary opinion of its preciousness,\nbut because he thought that knowledge was the variable element in\nvolition and that everything else was constant. Zeller dwells strongly\non the Socratic identification of cognition with conduct; but how\ncould anyone who fell at the first step into such a confusion of ideas\nbe fitted either to explain what science meant or to come forward as\nthe reformer of its methods? Nor is it correct to say that Socrates\napproached an object from every point of view, and took note of all\nits characteristic qualities. On the contrary, one would be inclined\nto charge him with the opposite tendency, with fixing his gaze too\nexclusively on some one quality, that to him, as a teacher, was the\nmost interesting. His identification of virtue with knowledge is an\nexcellent instance of this habit. So also is his identification of\nbeauty with serviceableness, and his general disposition to judge\nof everything by a rather narrow standard of utility. On the other\nhand, Greek physical speculation would have gained nothing by a\nminute attention to definitions, and most probably would have been\nmischievously hampered by it. Aristotle, at any rate, prefers the\nmethod of Democritus to the method of Plato; and Aristotle himself\nis much nearer the truth when he follows on the Ionian or Sicilian\ntrack than when he attempts to define what in the then existing state\nof knowledge could not be satisfactorily defined. To talk about the\nvarious elements\u2014earth, air, fire, and water\u2014as things with which\neverybody was already familiar, may have been a crude unscientific\nprocedure; to analyse them into different combinations of the hot and\nthe cold, the light and the heavy, the dry and the moist, was not\nonly erroneous but fatally misleading; it was arresting enquiry, and\ndoing precisely what the Sophists had been accused of doing, that is,\nsubstituting the conceit for the reality of wisdom. It was, no doubt,\nnecessary that mathematical terms should be defined; but where are we\ntold that geometricians had to learn this truth from Socrates? The\nsciences of quantity, which could hardly have advanced a step without\nthe help of exact conceptions, were successfully cultivated before\nhe was born, and his influence was used to discourage rather than\nto promote their accurate study. With regard to the comprehensive\nall-sided examination of objects on which Zeller lays so much stress,\nand which he seems to regard as something peculiar to the conceptual\nmethod, it had unquestionably been neglected by Parmenides and\nHeracleitus; but had not the deficiency been already made good by their\nimmediate successors? What else is the philosophy of Empedocles,\nthe Atomists, and Anaxagoras, but an attempt\u2014we must add, a by no\nmeans unsuccessful attempt\u2014to recombine the opposing aspects of\nNature which had been too exclusively insisted on at Ephesus and Elea?\nAgain, to say that the Sophists had destroyed physical speculation\nby setting these partial aspects of truth against one another is,\nin our opinion, equally erroneous. First of all, Zeller here falls\ninto the old mistake, long ago corrected by Grote, of treating the\nclass in question as if they all held similar views. We have shown in\nthe preceding chapter, if indeed it required to be shown, that the\nSophists were divided into two principal schools, of which one was\ndevoted to the cultivation of physics. Protagoras and Gorgias were the\nonly sceptics; and it was not by setting one theory against another,\nbut by working out a single theory to its last consequences, that\ntheir scepticism was reached; with no more effect, be it observed,\nthan was exercised by Pyrrho on the science of his day. For the two\ngreat thinkers, with the aid of whose conclusions it was attempted to\ndiscredit objective reality, were already left far behind at the close\nof the fifth century; and neither their reasonings nor reasonings based\non theirs, could exercise much influence on a generation which had\nAnaxagoras on Nature and the encyclopaedia of Democritus in its hands.\nThere was, however, one critic who really did what the Sophists are\ncharged with doing; who derided and denounced physical science on the\nground that its professors were hopelessly at issue with one another;\nand this critic was no other than Socrates himself. He maintained, on\npurely popular and superficial grounds, the same sceptical attitude\nto which Protagoras gave at least the semblance of a psychological\njustification. And he wished that attention should be concentrated\non the very subjects which Protagoras undertook to teach\u2014namely,\nethics, politics, and dialectics. Once more, to say that Socrates was\nconscious of not coming up to his own standard of true knowledge is\ninconsistent with Xenophon\u2019s account, where he is represented as quite\nready to answer every question put to him, and to offer a definition\nof everything that he considered worth defining. His scepticism, if it\never existed, was as artificial and short-lived as the scepticism of\nDescartes.\n\nThe truth is that no man who philosophised at all was ever more\nfree from tormenting doubts and self-questionings; no man was ever\nmore thoroughly satisfied with himself than Socrates. Let us add\nthat, from a Hellenic point of view, no man had ever more reason\nfor self-satisfaction. None, he observed in his last days, had ever\nlived a better or a happier life. Naturally possessed of a powerful\nconstitution, he had so strengthened it by habitual moderation and\nconstant training that up to the hour of his death, at the age of\nseventy, he enjoyed perfect bodily and mental health. Neither hardship\nnor exposure, neither abstinence nor indulgence in what to other men\nwould have been excess, could make any impression on that adamantine\nframe. We know not how much truth there may be in the story that, at\none time, he was remarkable for the violence of his passions; at any\nrate, when our principal informants knew him he was conspicuous for\nthe ease with which he resisted temptation, and for the imperturbable\nsweetness of his temper. His wants, being systematically reduced to\na minimum, were easily satisfied, and his cheerfulness never failed.\nHe enjoyed Athenian society so much that nothing but military duty\ncould draw him away from it. For Socrates was a veteran who had served\nthrough three arduous campaigns, and could give lectures on the\nduties of a general, which so high an authority as Xenophon thought\nworth reporting. He seems to have been on excellent terms with his\nfellow-citizens, never having been engaged in a lawsuit, either as\nplaintiff or defendant, until the fatal prosecution which brought his\ncareer to a close. He could, on that occasion, refuse to prepare a\ndefence, proudly observing that his whole life had been a preparation,\nthat no man had ever seen him commit an unjust or impious deed. The\nanguished cries of doubt uttered by Italian and Sicilian thinkers could\nhave no meaning for one who, on principle, abstained from ontological\nspeculations; the uncertainty of human destiny which hung like a\nthunder-cloud over Pindar and the tragic poets had melted away under\nthe sunshine of arguments, demonstrating, to his satisfaction, the\nreality and beneficence of a supernatural Providence. For he believed\nthat the gods would afford guidance in doubtful conjunctures to all who\napproached their oracles in a reverent spirit; while, over and above\nthe Divine counsels accessible to all men, he was personally attended\nby an oracular voice, a mysterious monitor, which told him what to\navoid, though not what to do, a circumstance well worthy of note, for\nit shows that he did not, like Plato, attribute every kind of right\naction to divine inspiration.\n\nIt may be said that all this only proves Socrates to have been, in\nhis own estimation, a good and happy, but not necessarily a wise man.\nWith him, however, the last of these conditions was inseparable from\nthe other two. He was prepared to demonstrate, step by step, that his\nconduct was regulated by fixed and ascertainable principles, and was\nof the kind best adapted to secure happiness both for himself and for\nothers. That there were deficiencies in his ethical theory may readily\nbe admitted. The idea of universal beneficence seems never to have\ndawned on his horizon; and chastity was to him what sobriety is to us,\nmainly a self-regarding virtue. We do not find that he ever recommended\nconjugal fidelity to husbands; he regarded prostitution very much as\nit is still, unhappily, regarded by men of the world among ourselves;\nand in opposing the darker vices of his countrymen, it was the excess\nrather than the perversion of appetite which he condemned. These,\nhowever, are points which do not interfere with our general contention\nthat Socrates adopted the ethical standard of his time, that he adopted\nit on rational grounds, that having adopted he acted up to it, and\nthat in so reasoning and acting he satisfied his own ideal of absolute\nwisdom.\n\nEven as regards physical phenomena, Socrates, so far from professing\ncomplete ignorance, held a very positive theory which he was quite\nready to share with his friends. He taught what is called the doctrine\nof final causes; and, so far as our knowledge goes, he was either the\nfirst to teach it, or, at any rate, the first to prove the existence of\ndivine agencies by its means. The old poets had occasionally attributed\nthe origin of man and other animals to supernatural intelligence, but,\napparently, without being led to their conviction by any evidence of\ndesign displayed in the structure of organised creatures. Socrates, on\nthe other hand, went through the various external organs of the human\nbody with great minuteness, and showed, to his own satisfaction, that\nthey evinced the workings of a wise and beneficent Artist. We shall\nhave more to say further on about this whole argument; here we only\nwish to observe that, intrinsically, it does not differ very much\nfrom the speculations which its author derided as the fruit of an\nimpertinent curiosity; and that no one who now employed it would, for a\nsingle moment, be called an agnostic or a sceptic.\n\nMust we, then, conclude that Socrates was, after all, nothing but a\nsort of glorified Greek Paley, whose principal achievement was to\npresent the popular ideas of his time on morals and politics under\nthe form of a rather grovelling utilitarianism; and whose \u2018evidences\nof natural and revealed religion\u2019 bore much the same relation to\nGreek mythology as the corresponding lucubrations of the worthy\narchdeacon bore to Christian theology? Even were this the whole truth,\nit should be remembered that there was an interval of twenty-three\ncenturies between the two teachers, which ought to be taken due\naccount of in estimating their relative importance. Socrates, with his\nclosely-reasoned, vividly-illustrated ethical expositions, had gained\na tactical advantage over the vague declamations of Gnomic poetry and\nthe isolated aphorisms of the Seven Sages, comparable to that possessed\nby Xenophon and his Ten Thousand in dealing with the unwieldy masses\nof Persian infantry and the undisciplined mountaineers of Carduchia;\nwhile his idea of a uniformly beneficent Creator marked a still greater\nadvance on the jealous divinities of Herodotus. On the other hand,\nas against Hume and Bentham, Paley\u2019s pseudo-scientific paraphernalia\nwere like the muskets and cannon of an Asiatic army when confronted by\nthe English conquerors of India. Yet had Socrates done no more than\ncontributed to philosophy the idea just alluded to, his place in the\nevolution of thought, though honourable, would not have been what it is\njustly held to be\u2014unique.\n\n\nIII.\n\nSo far we have been occupied in disputing the views of others; it is\nnow time that our own view should be stated. We maintain, then, that\nSocrates first brought out the idea, not of knowledge, but of mind in\nits full significance; that he first studied the whole circle of human\ninterests as affected by mind; that, in creating dialectics, he gave\nthis study its proper method, and simultaneously gave his method the\nonly subject-matter on which it could be profitably exercised; finally,\nthat by these immortal achievements philosophy was constituted, and\nreceived a threefold verification\u2014first, from the life of its founder;\nsecondly, from the success with which his spirit was communicated to\na band of followers; thirdly, from the whole subsequent history of\nthought. Before substantiating these assertions point by point, it will\nbe expedient to glance at the external influences which may be supposed\nto have moulded the great intellect and the great character now under\nconsideration.\n\nSocrates was, before all things, an Athenian. To understand him\nwe must first understand what the Athenian character was in itself\nand independently of disturbing circumstances. Our estimate of that\ncharacter is too apt to be biassed by the totally exceptional position\nwhich Athens occupied during the fifth century B.C. The possession\nof empire developed qualities in her children which they had not\nexhibited at an earlier period, and which they ceased to exhibit when\nempire had been lost. Among these must be reckoned military genius,\nan adventurous and romantic spirit, and a high capacity for poetical\nand artistic production\u2014qualities displayed, it is true, by every\nGreek race, but by some for a longer and by others for a shorter\nperiod. Now, the tradition of greatness does not seem to have gone\nvery far back with Athens. Her legendary history, what we have of it,\nis singularly unexciting. The same rather monotonous though edifying\nstory of shelter accorded to persecuted fugitives, of successful\nresistance to foreign invasions, and of devoted self-sacrifice to the\nState, meets us again and again. The Attic drama itself shows how much\nmore stirring was the legendary lore of other tribes. One need only\nlook at the few remaining pieces which treat of patriotic subjects to\nappreciate the difference; and an English reader may easily convince\nhimself of it by comparing Mr. Swinburne\u2019s _Erechtheus_ with the same\nauthor\u2019s _Atalanta_. There is a want of vivid individuality perceptible\nall through. Even Theseus, the great national hero, strikes one as a\nrather tame sort of personage compared with Perseus, Heracl\u00eas, and\nJason. No Athenian figures prominently in the _Iliad_; and on the only\ntwo occasions when Pindar was employed to commemorate an Athenian\nvictory at the Panhellenic games, he seems unable to associate it\nwith any legendary glories in the past. The circumstances which for\na long time made Attic history so barren of incident are the same to\nwhich its subsequent importance is due. The relation in which Attica\nstood to the rest of Greece was somewhat similar to the relation in\nwhich Tuscany, long afterwards, stood to the rest of Italy. It was the\nregion least disturbed by foreign immigration, and therefore became\nthe seat of a slower but steadier mental development. It was among\nthose to whom war, revolution, colonisation, and commerce brought\nthe most many-sided experience that intellectual activity was most\nspeedily ripened. Literature, art, and science were cultivated with\nextraordinary success by the Greek cities of Asia Minor, and even\nin some parts of the old country, before Athens had a single man of\ngenius, except Solon, to boast of. But along with the enjoyment of\nundisturbed tranquillity, habits of self-government, orderliness, and\nreasonable reflection were establishing themselves, which finally\nenabled her to inherit all that her predecessors in the race had\naccomplished, and to add, what alone they still wanted, the crowning\nconsecration of self-conscious mind. There had, simultaneously, been\ngrowing up an intensely patriotic sentiment, due, in part, to the\nlong-continued independence of Attica; in part, also, we may suppose,\nto the union, at a very early period, of her different townships into a\nsingle city. The same causes had, however, also favoured a certain love\nof comfort, a jovial pleasure-seeking disposition often degenerating\ninto coarse sensuality, a thriftiness, and an inclination to grasp at\nany source of profit, coupled with extreme credulity where hopes of\nprofit were excited, together forming an element of prose-comedy which\nmingles strangely with the tragic grandeur of Athens in her imperial\nage, and emerges into greater prominence after her fall, until it\nbecomes the predominant characteristic of her later days. It is, we may\nobserve, the contrast between these two aspects of Athenian life which\ngives the plays of Aristophanes their unparalleled comic effect, and\nit is their very awkward conjunction which makes Euripides so unequal\nand disappointing a poet. We find, then, that the original Athenian\ncharacter is marked by reasonable reflection, by patriotism, and by a\ntendency towards self-seeking materialism. Let us take note of these\nthree qualities, for we shall meet with them again in the philosophy of\nSocrates.\n\nEmpire, when it came to Athens, came almost unsought. The Persian\ninvasions had made her a great naval power; the free choice of her\nallies placed her at the head of a great maritime confederacy. The\nsudden command of vast resources and the tension accumulated during\nages of repose, stimulated all her faculties into preternatural\nactivity. Her spirit was steeled almost to the Dorian temper, and\nentered into victorious rivalry with the Dorian Muse. Not only did\nher fleet sweep the sea, but her army, for once, defeated Theban\nhoplites in the field. The grand choral harmonies of Sicilian song,\nthe Sicyonian recitals of epic adventure, were rolled back into a\nframework for the spectacle of individual souls meeting one another in\nargument, expostulation, entreaty, and defiance; a nobler Doric edifice\nrose to confront the Aeginetan temple of Ath\u00ean\u00ea; the strained energy\nof Aeginetan combatants was relaxed into attitudes of reposing power,\nand the eternal smile on their faces was deepened into the sadness of\nunfathomable thought. But to the violet-crowned city, Ath\u00ean\u00ea was a\ngiver of wealth and wisdom rather than of prowess; her empire rested on\nthe contributions of unwilling allies, and on a technical proficiency\nwhich others were sure to equal in time; so that the Corinthian\norators could say with justice that Athenian skill was more easily\nacquired than Dorian valour. At once receptive and communicative,\nAthens absorbed all that Greece could teach her, and then returned it\nin a more elaborate form, but without the freshness of its earliest\ninspiration. Yet there was one field that still afforded scope for\ncreative originality. Habits of analysis, though fatal to spontaneous\nproduction, were favourable, or rather were necessary, to the growth\nof a new philosophy. After the exhaustion of every limited idealism,\nthere remained that highest idealisation which is the reduction of all\npast experience to a method available for the guidance of all future\naction. To accomplish this last enterprise it was necessary that a\nsingle individual should gather up in himself the spirit diffused\nthrough a whole people, bestowing on it by that very concentration\nthe capability of an infinitely wider extension when its provisional\nrepresentative should have passed away from the scene.\n\nSocrates represents the popular Athenian character much as Richardson,\nin a different sphere, represents the English middle-class\ncharacter\u2014represents it, that is to say, elevated into transcendent\ngenius. Except this elevation, there was nothing anomalous about him.\nIf he was exclusively critical, rationalising, unadventurous, prosaic;\nin a word, as the German historians say, something of a Philistine;\nso, we may suspect, were the mass of his countrymen. His illustrations\nwere taken from such plebeian employments as cattle-breeding, cobbling,\nweaving, and sailoring. These were his \u2018touches of things common\u2019\nwhich at last \u2018rose to touch the spheres.\u2019 He both practised and\ninculcated virtues, the value of which is especially evident in humble\nlife\u2014frugality and endurance. But he also represents the D\u00eamos in its\nsovereign capacity as legislator and judge. Without aspiring to be an\norator or statesman, he reserves the ultimate power of arbitration\nand election. He submits candidates for office to a severe scrutiny,\nand demands from all men an even stricter account of their lives than\nretiring magistrates had to give of their conduct, when in power, to\nthe people. He applies the judicial method of cross-examination to the\ndetection of error, and the parliamentary method of joint deliberation\nto the discovery of truth. He follows out the democratic principles\nof free speech and self-government, by submitting every question\nthat arises to public discussion, and insisting on no conclusion\nthat does not command the willing assent of his audience. Finally,\nhis conversation, popular in form, was popular also in this respect,\nthat everybody who chose to listen might have the benefit of it\ngratuitously. Here we have a great change from the scornful dogmatism\nof Heracleitus, and the virtually oligarchic exclusiveness of the\nteachers who demanded high fees for their instruction.\n\nTo be free and to rule over freemen were, with Socrates, as with\nevery Athenian, the goals of ambition, only his freedom meant\nabsolute immunity from the control of passion or habit; government\nmeant superior knowledge, and government of freemen meant the power\nof producing intellectual conviction. In his eyes, the possessor of\nany art was, so far, a ruler, and the only true ruler, being obeyed\nunder severe penalties by all who stood in need of his skill. But the\nroyal art which he himself exercised, without expressly laying claim\nto it, was that which assigns its proper sphere to every other art,\nand provides each individual with the employment which his peculiar\nfaculties demand. This is Athenian liberty and Athenian imperialism\ncarried into education, but so idealised and purified that they can\nhardly be recognised at first sight.\n\nThe philosophy of Socrates is more obviously related to the practical\nand religious tendencies of his countrymen. Neither he nor they had\nany sympathy with the cosmological speculations which seemed to be\nunconnected with human interests, and to trench on matters beyond the\nreach of human knowledge. The old Attic sentiment was averse from\nadventures of any kind, whether political or intellectual. Yet the new\nspirit of enquiry awakened by Ionian thought could not fail to react\npowerfully on the most intelligent man among the most intelligent\npeople of Hellas. Above all, one paramount idea which went beyond the\nconfines of the old philosophy had been evolved by the differentiation\nof knowledge from its object, and had been presented, although under a\nmaterialising form, by Anaxagoras to the Athenian public. Socrates took\nup this idea, which expressed what was highest and most distinctive in\nthe national character, and applied it to the development of ethical\nspeculation. We have seen, in the last chapter, how an attempt was made\nto base moral truth on the results of natural philosophy, and how that\nattempt was combated by the Humanistic school. It could not be doubtful\nwhich side Socrates would take in this controversy. That he paid any\nattention to the teaching of Protagoras and Gorgias is, indeed, highly\nproblematic, for their names are never mentioned by Xenophon, and the\nPlatonic dialogues in which they figure are evidently fictitious.\nNevertheless, he had to a certain extent arrived at the same conclusion\nwith them, although by a different path. He was opposed, on religious\ngrounds, to the theories which an acute psychological analysis\nhad led them to reject. Accordingly, the idea of Nature is almost\nentirely absent from his conversation, and, like Protagoras, he is\nguided solely by regard for human interests. To the objection that\npositive laws were always changing, he victoriously replied that it\nwas because they were undergoing an incessant adaptation to varying\nneeds.[88] Like Protagoras, again, he was a habitual student of old\nGreek literature, and sedulously sought out the practical lessons in\nwhich it abounded. To him, as to the early poets and sages, S\u00f4phrosyn\u00ea,\nor self-knowledge and self-command taken together, was the first and\nmost necessary of all virtues. Unlike them, however, he does not simply\naccept it from tradition, but gives it a philosophical foundation\u2014the\nnewly-established distinction between mind and body; a distinction\nnot to be confounded with the old Psychism, although Plato, for his\nreforming purposes, shortly afterwards linked the two together. The\ndisembodied spirit of mythology was a mere shadow or memory, equally\ndestitute of solidity and of understanding; with Socrates, mind meant\nthe personal consciousness which retains its continuous identity\nthrough every change, and as against every passing impulse. Like the\nHumanists, he made it the seat of knowledge\u2014more than the Humanists,\nhe gave it the control of appetite. In other words, he adds the idea\nof will to that of intellect; but instead of treating them as distinct\nfaculties or functions, he absolutely identifies them. Mind having\ncome to be first recognised as a knowing power, carried over its\nassociation with knowledge into the volitional sphere, and the two\nwere first disentangled by Aristotle, though very imperfectly even by\nhim. Yet no thinker helped so much to make the confusion apparent as\nthe one to whom it was due. Socrates deliberately insisted that those\nwho knew the good must necessarily be good themselves. He taught that\nevery virtue was a science; courage, for example, was a knowledge\nof the things which should or should not be feared; temperance, a\nknowledge of what should or should not be desired, and so forth. Such\nan account of virtue would, perhaps, be sufficient if all men did what,\nin their opinion, they ought to do; and, however strange it may seem,\nSocrates assumed that such was actually the case.[89] The paradox,\neven if accepted at the moment by his youthful friends, was sure to\nbe rejected, on examination, by cooler heads, and its rejection would\nprove that the whole doctrine was essentially unsound. Various causes\nprevented Socrates from perceiving what seemed so clear to duller\nintelligences than his. First of all, he did not separate duty from\npersonal interest. A true Athenian, he recommended temperance and\nrighteousness very largely on account of the material advantages they\nsecured. That the agreeable and the honourable, the expedient and the\njust, frequently came into collision, was at that time a rhetorical\ncommonplace; and it might be supposed that, if they were shown to\ncoincide, no motive to misconduct but ignorance could exist. Then,\nagain, being accustomed to compare conduct of every kind with the\npractice of such arts as flute-playing, he had come to take knowledge\nin a rather extended sense, just as we do when we say, indifferently,\nthat a man knows geometry and that he knows how to draw. Aristotle\nhimself did not see more clearly than Socrates that moral habits are\nonly to be acquired by incessant practice; only the earlier thinker\nwould have observed that knowledge of every kind is gained by the same\nlaborious repetition of particular actions. To the obvious objection\nthat, in this case, morality cannot, like theoretical truth, be\nimparted by the teacher to his pupils, but must be won by the learner\nfor himself, he would probably have replied that all truth is really\nevolved by the mind from itself, and that he, for that very reason,\ndisclaimed the name of a teacher, and limited himself to the seemingly\nhumbler task of awakening dormant capacities in others.\n\nAn additional influence, not the less potent because unacknowledged,\nwas the same craving for a principle of unity that had impelled early\nGreek thought to seek for the sole substance or cause of physical\nphenomena in some single material element, whether water, air, or fire;\nand just as these various principles were finally decomposed into the\nmultitudinous atoms of Leucippus, so also, but much more speedily,\ndid the general principle of knowledge tend to decompose itself into\ninnumerable cognitions of the partial ends or utilities which action\nwas directed to achieve. The need of a comprehensive generalisation\nagain made itself felt, and all good was summed up under the head\nof happiness. The same difficulties recurred under another form. To\ndefine happiness proved not less difficult than to define use or\npractical knowledge. Three points of view offered themselves, and all\nthree had been more or less anticipated by Socrates. Happiness might\nmean unmixed pleasure, or the exclusive cultivation of man\u2019s higher\nnature, or voluntary subordination to a larger whole. The founder of\nAthenian philosophy used to present each of these, in turn, as an end,\nwithout recognising the possibility of a conflict between them; and it\ncertainly would be a mistake to represent them as constantly opposed.\nYet a truly scientific principle must either prove their identity, or\nmake its choice among them, or discover something better. Plato seems\nto have taken up the three methods, one after the other, without coming\nto any very satisfactory conclusion. Aristotle identified the first\ntwo, but failed, or rather did not attempt to harmonise them with the\nthird. Succeeding schools tried various combinations, laying more or\nless stress on different principles at different periods, till the will\nof an omnipotent Creator was substituted for every human standard.\nWith the decline of dogmatic theology we have seen them all come to\nlife again, and the old battle is still being fought out under our\neyes. Speaking broadly, it may be said that the method which we have\nplaced first on the list is more particularly represented in England,\nthe second in France, and the last in Germany. Yet they refuse to be\nseparated by any rigid line of demarcation, and each tends either to\ncombine with or to pass into one or both of the rival theories. Modern\nutilitarianism, as constituted by John Stuart Mill, although avowedly\nbased on the paramount value of pleasure, in admitting qualitative\ndifferences among enjoyments, and in subordinating individual to\nsocial good, introduces principles of action which are not, properly\nspeaking, hedonistic. Neither is the idea of the whole by any means\nfree from ambiguity. We have party, church, nation, order, progress,\nrace, humanity, and the sum total of sensitive beings, all putting in\ntheir claims to figure as that entity. Where the pursuit of any single\nend gives rise to conflicting pretensions, a wise man will check them\nby reference to the other accredited standards, and will cherish a not\nunreasonable expectation that the evolution of life is tending to bring\nthem all into ultimate agreement.\n\nReturning to Socrates, we must further note that his identification\nof virtue with science, though it does not express the whole truth,\nexpresses a considerable part of it, especially as to him conduct was\na much more complex problem than it is to some modern teachers. Only\nthose who believe in the existence of intuitive and infallible moral\nperceptions can consistently maintain that nothing is easier than\nto know our duty, and nothing harder than to do it. Even then, the\nintuitions must extend beyond general principles, and also inform us\nhow and where to apply them. That no such inward illumination exists\nis sufficiently shown by experience; so much so that the mischief done\nby foolish people with good intentions has become proverbial. Modern\ncasuists have, indeed, drawn a distinction between the intention and\nthe act, making us responsible for the purity of the former, not for\nthe consequences of the latter. Though based on the Socratic division\nbetween mind and body, this distinction would not have commended itself\nto Socrates. His object was not to save souls from sin, but to save\nindividuals, families, and states from the ruin which ignorance of fact\nentails.\n\nIf we enlarge our point of view so as to cover the moral influence of\nknowledge on society taken collectively, its relative importance will\nbe vastly increased. When Auguste Comte assigns the supreme direction\nof progress to advancing science, and when Buckle, following Fichte,\nmakes the totality of human action depend on the totality of human\nknowledge, they are virtually attributing to intellectual education an\neven more decisive part than it played in the Socratic ethics. Even\nthose who reject the theory, when pushed to such an extreme, will admit\nthat the same quantity of self-devotion must produce a far greater\neffect when it is guided by deeper insight into the conditions of\nexistence.\n\nThe same principle may be extended in a different direction if we\nsubstitute for knowledge, in its narrower significance, the more\ngeneral conception of associated feeling. We shall then see that\nbelief, habit, emotion, and instinct are only different stages of\nthe same process\u2014the process by which experience is organised and\nmade subservient to vital activity. The simplest reflex and the\nhighest intellectual conviction are alike based on sensori-motor\nmechanism, and, so far, differ only through the relative complexity and\ninstability of the nervous connexions involved. Knowledge is life in\nthe making, and when it fails to control practice fails only by coming\ninto conflict with passion\u2014that is to say, with the consolidated\nresults of an earlier experience. Physiology offers another analogy\nto the Socratic method which must not be overlooked. Socrates\nrecommended the formation of definite conceptions because, among other\nadvantages, they facilitated the diffusion of useful knowledge. So,\nalso, the organised associations of feelings are not only serviceable\nto individuals, but may be transmitted to offspring with a regularity\nproportioned to their definiteness. How naturally these deductions\nfollow from the doctrine under consideration, is evident from their\nhaving been, to a certain extent, already drawn by Plato. His plan\nfor the systematic education of feeling under scientific supervision\nanswers to the first; his plan for breeding an improved race of\ncitizens by placing marriage under State control answers to the second.\nYet it is doubtful whether Plato\u2019s predecessor would have sanctioned\nany scheme tending to substitute an external compulsion, whether felt\nor not, for freedom and individual initiative, and a blind instinct for\nthe self-consciousness which can give an account of its procedure at\nevery step. He would bring us back from social physics and physiology\nto psychology, and from psychology to dialectic philosophy.\n\n\nIV.\n\nTo Socrates himself the strongest reason for believing in the\nidentity of conviction and practice was, perhaps, that he had made\nit a living reality. With him to know the right and to do it were\nthe same. In this sense we have already said that his life was the\nfirst verification of his philosophy. And just as the results of his\nethical teaching can only be ideally separated from their application\nto his conduct, so also these results themselves cannot be kept apart\nfrom the method by which they were reached; nor is the process by\nwhich he reached them for himself distinguishable from the process\nby which he communicated them to his friends. In touching on this\npoint, we touch on that which is greatest and most distinctively\noriginal in the Socratic system, or rather in the Socratic impulse\nto systematisation of every kind. What it was will be made clearer\nby reverting to the central conception of mind. With Protagoras mind\nmeant an ever-changing stream of feeling; with Gorgias it was a\nprinciple of hopeless isolation, the interchange of thoughts between\none consciousness and another, by means of signs, being an illusion.\nSocrates, on the contrary, attributed to it a steadfast control over\npassion, and a unifying function in society through its essentially\nsynthetic activity, its need of co-operation and responsive assurance.\nHe saw that the reason which overcomes animal desire tends to draw\nmen together just as sensuality tends to drive them into hostile\ncollision. If he recommended temperance on account of the increased\negoistic pleasure which it secures, he recommended it also as making\nthe individual a more efficient instrument for serving the community.\nIf he inculcated obedience to the established laws, it was no doubt\npartly on grounds of enlightened self-interest, but also because union\nand harmony among citizens were thereby secured. And if he insisted\non the necessity of forming definite conceptions, it was with the\nsame twofold reference to personal and public advantage. Along with\nthe diffusive, social character of mind he recognised its essential\nspontaneity. In a commonwealth where all citizens were free and equal,\nthere must also be freedom and equality of reason. Having worked out\na theory of life for himself, he desired that all other men should,\nso far as possible, pass through the same bracing discipline. Here we\nhave the secret of his famous erotetic method. He did not, like the\nSophists, give continuous lectures, nor profess, like some of them,\nto answer every question that might be put to him. On the contrary,\nhe put a series of questions to all who came in his way, generally in\nthe form of an alternative, one side of which seemed self-evidently\ntrue and the other self-evidently false, arranged so as to lead the\nrespondent, step by step, to the conclusion which it was desired that\nhe should accept. Socrates did not invent this method. It had long been\npractised in the Athenian law-courts as a means for extracting from\nthe opposite party admissions which could not be otherwise obtained,\nwhence it had passed into the tragic drama, and into the discussion of\nphilosophical problems. Nowhere else was the analytical power of Greek\nthought so brilliantly displayed; for before a contested proposition\ncould be subjected to this mode of treatment, it had to be carefully\ndiscriminated from confusing adjuncts, considered under all the various\nmeanings which it might possibly be made to bear, subdivided, if it was\ncomplex, into two or more distinct assertions, and linked by a minute\nchain of demonstration to the admission by which its validity was\nestablished or overthrown.\n\nSocrates, then, did not create the cross-examining elenchus, but he\ngave it two new and very important applications. So far as we can make\nout, it had hitherto been only used (again, after the example of the\nlaw-courts) for the purpose of detecting error or intentional deceit.\nHe made it an instrument for introducing his own convictions into the\nminds of others, but so that his interlocutors seemed to be discovering\nthem for themselves, and were certainly learning how, in their turn,\nto practise the same didactic interrogation on a future occasion. And\nhe also used it for the purpose of logical self-discipline in a manner\nwhich will be presently explained. Of course, Socrates also employed\nthe erotetic method as a means of confutation, and, in his hands, it\npowerfully illustrated what we have called the negative moment of\nGreek thought. To prepare the ground for new truth it was necessary\nto clear away the misconceptions which were likely to interfere with\nits admission; or, if Socrates himself had nothing to impart, he could\nat any rate purge away the false conceit of knowledge from unformed\nminds, and hold them back from attempting difficult tasks until they\nwere properly qualified for the undertaking. For example, a certain\nGlauco, a brother of Plato, had attempted to address the public\nassembly, when he was not yet twenty years of age, and was naturally\nquite unfitted for the task. At Athens, where every citizen had a\nvoice in his country\u2019s affairs, obstruction, whether intentional or\nnot, was very summarily dealt with. Speakers who had nothing to say\nthat was worth hearing were forcibly removed from the b\u00eama by the\npolice; and this fate had already more than once befallen the youthful\norator, much to the annoyance of his friends, who could not prevail\non him to refrain from repeating the experiment, when Socrates took\nthe matter in hand. One or two adroit compliments on his ambition drew\nGlauco into a conversation with the veteran dialectician on the aims\nand duties of a statesman. It was agreed that his first object should\nbe to benefit the country, and that a good way of achieving this end\nwould be to increase its wealth, which, again, could be done either\nby augmenting the receipts or by diminishing the expenditure. Could\nGlauco tell what was the present revenue of Athens, and whence it was\nderived?\u2014No; he had not studied that question.\u2014Well then, perhaps, he\nhad some useful retrenchments to propose.\u2014No; he had not studied that\neither. But the State might, he thought, be enriched at the expense of\nits enemies.\u2014A good idea, if we can be sure of beating them first!\nOnly, to avoid the risk of attacking somebody who is stronger than\nourselves, we must know what are the enemy\u2019s military resources as\ncompared with our own. To begin with the latter: Can Glauco tell how\nmany ships and soldiers Athens has at her disposal?\u2014No, he does not\nat this moment remember.\u2014Then, perhaps, he has it all written down\nsomewhere?\u2014He must confess not. So the conversation goes on until\nSocrates has convicted his ambitious young friend of possessing no\naccurate information whatever about political questions.[90]\n\nXenophon has recorded another dialogue in which a young man named\nEuthyd\u00eamus, who was also in training for a statesman, and who, as he\nsupposed, had learned a great deal more out of books than Socrates\ncould teach him, is brought to see how little he knows about ethical\nscience. He is asked, Can a man be a good citizen without being\njust? No, he cannot.\u2014Can Euthyd\u00eamus tell what acts are just? Yes,\ncertainly, and also what are unjust.\u2014Under which head does he put\nsuch actions as lying, deceiving, harming, enslaving?\u2014Under the\nhead of injustice.\u2014But suppose a hostile people are treated in the\nvarious manners specified, is that unjust?\u2014No, but it was understood\nthat only one\u2019s friends were meant.\u2014Well, if a general encourages\nhis own army by false statements, or a father deceives his child into\ntaking medicine, or your friend seems likely to commit suicide, and\nyou purloin a deadly weapon from him, is that unjust?\u2014No, we must add\n\u2018for the purpose of harming\u2019 to our definition. Socrates, however,\ndoes not stop here, but goes on cross-examining until the unhappy\nstudent is reduced to a state of hopeless bewilderment and shame. He\nis then brought to perceive the necessity of self-knowledge, which\nis explained to mean knowledge of one\u2019s own powers. As a further\nexercise Euthyd\u00eamus is put through his facings on the subject of good\nand evil. Health, wealth, strength, wisdom and beauty are mentioned\nas unquestionable goods. Socrates shows, in the style long afterwards\nimitated by Juvenal, that they are only means towards an end, and may\nbe productive of harm no less than good.\u2014Happiness at any rate is an\nunquestionable good.\u2014Yes, unless we make it consist of questionable\ngoods like those just enumerated.[91]\n\nIt is in this last conversation that the historical Socrates most\nnearly resembles the Socrates of Plato\u2019s _Apologia_. Instead, however,\nof leaving Euthyd\u00eamus to the consciousness of his ignorance, as\nthe latter would have done, he proceeds, in Xenophon\u2019s account, to\ndirect the young man\u2019s studies according to the simplest and clearest\nprinciples; and we have another conversation where religious truths\nare instilled by the same catechetical process.[92] Here the erotetic\nmethod is evidently a mere didactic artifice, and Socrates could easily\nhave written out his lesson under the form of a regular demonstration.\nBut there is little doubt that in other cases he used it as a means\nfor giving increased precision to his own ideas, and also for testing\ntheir validity, that, in a word, the habit of oral communication gave\nhim a familiarity with logical processes which could not otherwise\nhave been acquired. The same cross-examination that acted as a spur\non the mind of the respondent, reacted as a bridle on the mind of the\ninterrogator, obliging him to make sure beforehand of every assertion\nthat he put forward, to study the mutual bearings of his beliefs, to\nanalyse them into their component elements, and to examine the relation\nin which they collectively stood to the opinions generally accepted.\nIt has already been stated that Socrates gave the erotetic method two\nnew applications; we now see in what direction they tended. He made it\na vehicle for positive instruction, and he also made it an instrument\nfor self-discipline, a help to fulfilling the Delphic precept, \u2018Know\nthyself.\u2019 The second application was even more important than the\nfirst. With us literary training\u2014that is, the practice of continuous\nreading and composition\u2014is so widely diffused, that conversation\nhas become rather a hindrance than a help to the cultivation of\nargumentative ability. The reverse was true when Socrates lived. Long\nfamiliarity with debate was unfavourable to the art of writing; and the\nspeeches in Thucydides show how difficult it was still found to present\nclose reasoning under the form of an uninterrupted exposition. The\ntraditions of conversational thrust and parry survived in rhetorical\nprose; and the crossed swords of tongue-fence were represented by the\nbristling _chevaux de frise_ of a laboured antithetical arrangement\nwhere every clause received new strength and point from contrast with\nits opposing neighbour.\n\nBy combining the various considerations here suggested we shall\narrive at a clearer understanding of the sceptical attitude commonly\nattributed to Socrates. There is, first of all, the negative and\ncritical function exercised by him in common with many other\nconstructive thinkers, and intimately associated with a fundamental\nlaw of Greek thought. Then there is the Attic courtesy and democratic\nspirit leading him to avoid any assumption of superiority over those\nwhose opinions he is examining. And, lastly, there is the profound\nfeeling that truth is a common possession, which no individual\ncan appropriate as his peculiar privilege, because it can only be\ndiscovered, tested, and preserved by the united efforts of all.\n\n\nV.\n\nThus, then, the Socratic dialogue has a double aspect. It is, like\nall philosophy, a perpetual carrying of life into ideas and of ideas\ninto life. Life is raised to a higher level by thought; thought, when\nbrought into contact with life, gains movement and growth, assimilative\nand reproductive power. If action is to be harmonised, we must regulate\nit by universal principles; if our principles are to be efficacious,\nthey must be adopted; if they are to be adopted, we must demonstrate\nthem to the satisfaction of our contemporaries. Language, consisting\nas it does almost entirely of abstract terms, furnishes the materials\nout of which alone such an ideal union can be framed. But men do not\nalways use the same words, least of all if they are abstract words, in\nthe same sense, and therefore a preliminary agreement must be arrived\nat in this respect; a fact which Socrates was the first to recognise.\nAristotle tells us that he introduced the custom of constructing\ngeneral definitions into philosophy. The need of accurate verbal\nexplanations is more felt in the discussion of ethical problems than\nanywhere else, if we take ethics in the only sense that Socrates would\nhave accepted, as covering the whole field of mental activity. It\nis true that definitions are also employed in the mathematical and\nphysical sciences, but there they are accompanied by illustrations\nborrowed from sensible experience, and would be unintelligible without\nthem. Hence it has been possible for those branches of knowledge to\nmake enormous progress, while the elementary notions on which they rest\nhave not yet been satisfactorily analysed. The case is entirely altered\nwhen mental dispositions have to be taken into account. Here, abstract\nterms play much the same part as sensible intuitions elsewhere in\nsteadying our conceptions, but without possessing the same invariable\nvalue; the experiences from which those conceptions are derived\nbeing exceedingly complex, and, what is more, exceedingly liable to\ndisturbance from unforeseen circumstances. Thus, by neglecting a series\nof minute changes the same name may come to denote groups of phenomena\nnot agreeing in the qualities which alone it originally connoted. More\nthan one example of such a gradual metamorphosis has already presented\nitself in the course of our investigation, and others will occur in\nthe sequel. Where distinctions of right and wrong are involved, it\nis of enormous practical importance that a definite meaning should\nbe attached to words, and that they should not be allowed, at least\nwithout express agreement, to depart from the recognised acceptation:\nfor such words, connoting as they do the approval or disapproval\nof mankind, exercise a powerful influence on conduct, so that their\nmisapplication may lead to disastrous consequences. Where government\nby written law prevails the importance of defining ethical terms\nimmediately becomes obvious, for, otherwise, personal rule would\nbe restored under the disguise of judicial interpretation. Roman\njurisprudence was the first attempt on a great scale to introduce a\nrigorous system of definitions into legislation. We have seen, in\nthe preceding chapter, how it tended to put the conclusions of Greek\nnaturalistic philosophy into practical shape. We now see how, on the\nformal side, its determinations are connected with the principles\nof Socrates. And we shall not undervalue this obligation if we bear\nin mind that the accurate wording of legal enactments is not less\nimportant than the essential justice of their contents. Similarly,\nthe development of Catholic theology required that its fundamental\nconceptions should be progressively defined. This alone preserved\nthe intellectual character of Catholicism in ages of ignorance and\nsuperstition, and helped to keep alive the reason by which superstition\nwas eventually overthrown. Mommsen has called theology the bastard\nchild of Religion and Science. It is something that, in the absence of\nthe robuster parent, its features should be recalled and its tradition\nmaintained even by an illegitimate offspring.\n\nSo far, we have spoken as if the Socratic definitions were merely\nverbal; they were, however, a great deal more, and their author did not\naccurately discriminate between what at that stage of thought could\nnot well be kept apart\u2014explanations of words, practical reforms, and\nscientific generalisations. For example, in defining a ruler to be one\nwho knew more than other men, he was departing from the common usages\nof language, and showing not what was, but what ought to be true.[93]\nAnd in defining virtue as wisdom, he was putting forward a new theory\nof his own, instead of formulating the received connotation of a\nterm. Still, after making every deduction, we cannot fail to perceive\nwhat an immense service was rendered to exact thought by introducing\ndefinitions of every kind into that department of enquiry where they\nwere chiefly needed. We may observe also that a general law of Greek\nintelligence was here realising itself in a new direction. The need\nof accurate determination had always been felt, but hitherto it had\nworked under the more elementary forms of time, space, and causality,\nor, to employ the higher generalisation of modern psychology, under\nthe form of contiguous association. The earlier cosmologies were all\nprocesses of circumscription; they were attempts to fix the limits\nof the universe, and, accordingly, that element which was supposed\nto surround the others was also conceived as their producing cause,\nor else (in the theory of Heracleitus) as typifying the rationale of\ntheir continuous transformation. For this reason Parmenides, when he\nidentified existence with extension, found himself obliged to declare\nthat extension was necessarily limited. Of all the physical thinkers,\nAnaxagoras, who immediately precedes Socrates, approaches, on the\nobjective side, most nearly to his standpoint. For the governing\nNous brings order out of chaos by segregating the confused elements,\nby separating the unlike and drawing the like together, which is\nprecisely what definition does for our conceptions. Meanwhile Greek\nliterature had been performing the same task in a more restricted\nprovince, first fixing events according to their geographical and\nhistorical positions, then assigning to each its proper cause, then,\nas Thucydides does, isolating the most important groups of events from\ntheir external connexions, and analysing the causes of complex changes\ninto different classes of antecedents. The final revolution effected by\nSocrates was to substitute arrangement by difference and resemblance\nfor arrangement by contiguity in coexistence and succession. To say\nthat by so doing he created science is inexact, for science requires\nto consider nature under every aspect, including those which he\nsystematically neglected; but we may say that he introduced the method\nwhich is most particularly applicable to mental phenomena, the method\nof ideal analysis, classification, and reasoning. For, be it observed\nthat Socrates did not limit himself to searching for the One in the\nMany, he also, and perhaps more habitually, sought for the Many in the\nOne. He would take hold of a conception and analyse it into its various\nnotes, laying them, as it were, piecemeal before his interlocutor for\nseparate acceptance or rejection. If, for example, they could not agree\nabout the relative merits of two citizens, Socrates would decompose\nthe character of a good citizen into its component parts and bring the\ncomparison down to them. A good citizen, he would say, increases the\nnational resources by his administration of the finances, defeats the\nenemy abroad, wins allies by his diplomacy, appeases dissension by\nhis eloquence at home.[94] When the shy and gifted Charmides shrank\nfrom addressing a public audience on public questions, Socrates strove\nto overcome his nervousness by mercilessly subdividing the august\nEccl\u00easia into its constituent classes. \u2018Is it the fullers that you\nare afraid of?\u2019 he asked, \u2018or the leather-cutters, or the masons, or\nthe smiths, or the husbandmen, or the traders, or the lowest class\nof hucksters?\u2019[95] Here the analytical power of Greek thought is\nmanifested with still more searching effect than when it was applied to\nspace and motion by Zeno.\n\nNor did Socrates only consider the whole conception in relation to its\nparts, he also grouped conceptions together according to their genera\nand founded logical classification. To appreciate the bearing of this\nidea on human interests it will be enough to study the disposition\nof a code. We shall then see how much more easy it becomes to bring\nindividual cases under a general rule, and to retain the whole body\nof rules in our memory, when we can pass step by step from the most\nuniversal to the most particular categories. Now, it was by jurists\nversed in the Stoic philosophy that Roman law was codified, and it\nwas by Stoicism that the traditions of Socratic philosophy were most\nfaithfully preserved.\n\nLogical division is, however, a process not fully represented by any\nfixed and formal distribution of topics, nor yet is it equivalent\nto the arrangement of genera and species according to their natural\naffinities, as in the admirable systems of Jussieu and Cuvier. It\nis something much more flexible and subtle, a carrying down into\nthe minutest detail, of that psychological law which requires, as\na condition of perfect consciousness, that feelings, conceptions,\njudgments, and, generally speaking, all mental modes should be\napprehended together with their contradictory opposites. Heracleitus\nhad a dim perception of this truth when he taught the identity of\nantithetical couples, and it is more or less vividly illustrated by\nall Greek classic literature after him; but Socrates seems to have\nbeen the first who transformed it from a law of existence into a law\nof cognition; with him knowledge and ignorance, reason and passion,\nfreedom and slavery, virtue, and vice, right and wrong (\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f40\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd\n\u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u1f74 \u03bc\u03af\u03b1) were apprehended in inseparable connexion, and were employed\nfor mutual elucidation, not only in broad masses, but also through\ntheir last subdivisions, like the delicate adjustments of light and\nshade on a Venetian canvas. This method of classification by graduated\ndescent and symmetrical contrast, like the whole dialectic system of\nwhich it forms a branch, is only suited to the mental phenomena for\nwhich it was originally devised; and Hegel committed a fatal error\nwhen he applied it to explain the order of external coexistence and\nsuccession. We have already touched on the essentially subjective\ncharacter of the Socratic definition, and we shall presently have to\nmake a similar restriction in dealing with Socratic induction. With\nregard to the question last considered, our limits will not permit us,\nnor, indeed, does it fall within the scope of our present study, to\npursue a vein of reflection which was never fully worked out either by\nthe Athenian philosophers or by their modern successors, at least not\nin its only legitimate direction.\n\nAfter definition and division comes reasoning. We arrange objects\nin classes, that by knowing one or some we may know all. Aristotle\nattributes to Socrates the first systematic employment of induction\nas well as of general definitions.[96] Nevertheless, his method was\nnot solely inductive, nor did it bear more than a distant resemblance\nto the induction of modern science. His principles were not gathered\nfrom the particular classes of phenomena which they determined, or\nwere intended to determine, but from others of an analogous character\nwhich had already been reduced to order. Observing that all handicrafts\nwere practised according to well-defined intelligible rules, leading,\nso far as they went, to satisfactory results, he required that life\nin its entirety should be similarly systematised. This was not so\nmuch reasoning as a demand for the more extended application of\nreasoning. It was a truly philosophic postulate, for philosophy is\nnot science, but precedes and underlies it. Belief and action tend to\ndivide themselves into two provinces, of which the one is more or less\norganised, the other more or less chaotic. We philosophise when we try\nto bring the one into order, and also when we test the foundations on\nwhich the order of the other reposes, fighting both against incoherent\nmysticism and against traditional routine. Such is the purpose that the\nmost distinguished thinkers of modern times\u2014Francis Bacon, Spinoza,\nHume, Kant, Auguste Comte, and Herbert Spencer\u2014however widely they\nmay otherwise differ, have, according to their respective lights, all\nset themselves to achieve. No doubt, there is this vast difference\nbetween Socrates and his most recent successors, that physical science\nis the great type of certainty to the level of which they would raise\nall speculation, while with him it was the type of a delusion and an\nimpossibility. The analogy of artistic production when applied to\nNature led him off on a completely false track, the ascription to\nconscious design of that which is, in truth, a result of mechanical\ncausation.[97] But now that the relations between the known and the\nunknown have been completely transformed, there is no excuse for\nrepeating the fallacies which imposed on his vigorous understanding;\nand the genuine spirit of Socrates is best represented by those who,\nstarting like him from the data of experience, are led to adopt a\ndiametrically opposite conclusion. We may add, that the Socratic method\nof analogical reasoning gave a retrospective justification to early\nGreek thought, of which Socrates was not himself aware. Its daring\ngeneralisations were really an inference from the known to the unknown.\nTo interpret all physical processes in terms of matter and motion, is\nonly assuming that the changes to which our senses cannot penetrate are\nhomogeneous with the changes which we can feel and see. When Socrates\nargued that, because the human body is animated by a consciousness,\nthe material universe must be similarly animated, Democritus might\nhave answered that the world presents no appearance of being organised\nlike an animal. When he argued that, because statues and pictures are\nknown to be the work of intelligence, the living models from which they\nare copied must be similarly due to design, Aristod\u00eamus should have\nanswered, that the former are seen to be manufactured, while the others\nare seen to grow. It might also have been observed, that if our own\nintelligence requires to be accounted for by a cause like itself, so\nalso does the creative cause, and so on through an infinite regress of\nantecedents. Teleology has been destroyed by the Darwinian theory; but\nbefore the _Origin of Species_ appeared, the slightest scrutiny might\nhave shown that it was a precarious foundation for religious belief.\nIf many thoughtful men are now turning away from theism, \u2018natural\ntheology\u2019 may be thanked for the desertion. \u2018I believe in God,\u2019 says\nthe German baron in _Thorndale_, \u2018until your philosophers demonstrate\nHis existence.\u2019 \u2018And then?\u2019 asks a friend. \u2018And then\u2014I do not believe\nthe demonstration.\u2019\n\nWhatever may have been the errors into which Socrates fell, he did\nnot commit the fatal mistake of compromising his ethical doctrine by\nassociating it indissolubly with his metaphysical opinions. Religion,\nwith him, instead of being the source and sanction of all duty, simply\nbrought in an additional duty\u2014that of gratitude to the gods for their\ngoodness. We shall presently see where he sought for the ultimate\nfoundation of morality, after completing our survey of the dialectic\nmethod with which it was so closely connected. The induction of\nSocrates, when it went beyond that kind of analogical reasoning which\nwe have just been considering, was mainly abstraction, the process by\nwhich he obtained those general conceptions or definitions which played\nso great a part in his philosophy. Thus, on comparing the different\nvirtues, as commonly distinguished, he found that they all agreed in\nrequiring knowledge, which he accordingly concluded to be the essence\nof virtue. So other moralists have been led to conclude that right\nactions resemble one another in their felicific quality, and In that\nalone. Similarly, political economists find, or formerly found (for we\ndo not wish to be positive on the matter), that a common characteristic\nof all industrial employments is the desire to secure the maximum of\nprofit with the minimum of trouble. Another comparison shows that value\ndepends on the relation between supply and demand. Aesthetic enjoyments\nof every kind resemble one another by including an element of ideal\nemotion. It is a common characteristic of all cognitions that they are\nconstructed by association out of elementary feelings. All societies\nare marked by a more or less developed division of labour. These\nare given as typical generalisations which have been reached by the\nSocratic method. They are all taken from the philosophic sciences\u2014that\nis, the sciences dealing with phenomena which are partly determined by\nmind, and the systematic treatment of which is so similar that they are\nfrequently studied in combination by a single thinker, and invariably\nso by the greatest thinkers of any. But were we to examine the history\nof the physical sciences, we should find that this method of wide\ncomparison and rapid abstraction cannot, as Francis Bacon imagined, be\nsuccessfully applied to them. The facts with which they deal are not\ntransparent, not directly penetrable by thought; hence they must be\ntreated deductively. Instead of a front attack, we must, so to speak,\ntake them in the rear. Bacon never made a more unfortunate observation\nthan when he said that the syllogism falls far short of the subtlety of\nNature. Nature is even simpler than the syllogism, for she accomplishes\nher results by advancing from equation to equation. That which really\ndoes fall far short of her subtlety is precisely the Baconian induction\nwith its superficial comparison of instances. No amount of observation\ncould detect any resemblance between the bursting of a thunderstorm and\nthe attraction of a loadstone, or between the burning of charcoal and\nthe rusting a nail.\n\nBut while philosophers cannot prescribe a method to physical science,\nthey may, to a certain extent, bring it under their cognisance, by\ndisengaging its fundamental conceptions and assumptions, and showing\nthat they are functions of mind; by arranging the special sciences in\nsystematic order for purposes of study; and by investigating the law\nof their historical evolution. Furthermore, since psychology is the\ncentral science of philosophy, and since it is closely connected with\nphysiology, which in turn reposes on the inorganic sciences, a certain\nknowledge of the objective world is indispensable to any knowledge of\nourselves. Lastly, since the subjective sphere not only rests, once for\nall, on the objective, but is also in a continual state of action and\nreaction with it, no philosophy can be complete which does not take\ninto account the constitution of things as they exist independently of\nourselves, in order to ascertain how far they are unalterable, and how\nfar they may be modified to our advantage. We see, then, that Socrates,\nin restricting philosophy to human interests, was guided by a just\ntact; that in creating the method of dialectic abstraction, he created\nan instrument adequate to this investigation, but to this alone;\nand, finally, that human interests, understood in the largest sense,\nembrace a number of subsidiary studies which either did not exist when\nhe taught, or which the inevitable superstitions of his age would not\nallow him to pursue.\n\nIt remains to glance at another aspect of the dialectic method first\ndeveloped on a great scale by Plato, and first fully defined by\nAristotle, but already playing a certain part in the Socratic teaching.\nThis is the testing of common assumptions by pushing them to their\nlogical conclusion, and rejecting those which lead to consequences\ninconsistent with themselves. So understood, dialectic means the\ncomplete elimination of inconsistency, and has ever since remained the\nmost powerful weapon of philosophical criticism. To take an instance\nnear at hand, it is constantly employed by thinkers so radically\ndifferent as Mr. Herbert Spencer and Professor T. H. Green; while it\nhas been generalised into an objective law of Nature and history, with\ndazzling though only momentary success, by Hegel and his school.\n\n\nVI.\n\nConsistency is, indeed, the one word which, better than any other,\nexpresses the whole character of Socrates, and the whole of philosophy\nas well. Here the supreme conception of mind reappears under its most\nrigorous, but, at the same time, its most beneficent aspect. It is the\ntemperance which no allurement can surprise; the fortitude which no\nterror can break through; the justice which eliminates all personal\nconsiderations, egoistic and altruistic alike; the truthfulness\nwhich, with exactest harmony, fits words to meanings, meanings to\nthoughts, and thoughts to things; the logic which will tolerate no\nself-contradiction; the conviction which seeks for no acceptance\nunwon by reason; the liberalism which works through free agencies for\nfreedom; the love which wills another\u2019s good for that other\u2019s sake\nalone.[98] It was the intellectual passion for consistency which made\nSocrates so great and which fused his life into a flawless whole; but\nit was an unconscious motive power, and therefore he attributed to mere\nknowledge what knowledge alone could not supply. A clear perception\nof right cannot by itself secure the obedience of our will. High\nprinciples are not of any value, except to those in whom a discrepancy\nbetween practice and profession produces the sharpest anguish of which\ntheir nature is capable; a feeling like, though immeasurably stronger\nthan, that which women of exquisite sensibility experience when they\nsee a candle set crooked or a table-cover awry. How moral laws have\ncome to be established, and why they prescribe or prohibit certain\nclasses of actions, are questions which still divide the schools,\nthough with an increasing consensus of authority on the utilitarian\nside: their ultimate sanction\u2014that which, whatever they are, makes\nobedience to them truly moral\u2014can hardly be sought elsewhere than in\nthe same consciousness of logical stringency that determines, or should\ndetermine, our abstract beliefs.\n\nBe this as it may, we venture to hope that a principle has been here\nsuggested deep and strong enough to reunite the two halves into which\nhistorians have hitherto divided the Socratic system, or, rather, the\nbeginning of that universal systematisation called philosophy, which\nis not yet, and perhaps never will be, completed; a principle which is\noutwardly revealed in the character of the philosopher himself. With\nsuch an one, ethics and dialectics become almost indistinguishable\nthrough the intermixture of their processes and the parallelism of\ntheir aims. Integrity of conviction enters, both as a means and\nas an element, into perfect integrity of conduct, nor can it be\nmaintained where any other element of rectitude is wanting. Clearness,\nconsecutiveness, and coherence are the morality of belief; while\ntemperance, justice, and beneficence, taken in their widest sense and\ntaken together, constitute the supreme logic of life.\n\nIt has already been observed that the thoughts of Socrates were thrown\ninto shape for and by communication, that they only became definite\nwhen brought into vivifying contact with another intelligence. Such was\nespecially the case with his method of ethical dialectic. Instead of\ntendering his advice in the form of a lecture, as other moralists have\nat all times been so fond of doing, he sought out some pre-existing\nsentiment or opinion inconsistent with the conduct of which he\ndisapproved, and then gradually worked round from point to point,\nuntil theory and practice were exhibited in immediate contrast. Here,\nhis reasoning, which is sometimes spoken of as exclusively inductive,\nwas strictly syllogistic, being the application of a general law to\na particular instance. With the growing emancipation of reason, we\nmay observe a return to the Socratic method of moralisation. Instead\nof rewards and punishments, which encourage selfish calculation, or\nexamples, which stimulate a mischievous jealousy when they do not\ncreate a spirit of servile imitation, the judicious trainer will\nfind his motive power in the pupil\u2019s incipient tendency to form\nmoral judgments, which, when reflected on the individual\u2019s own\nactions, become what we call a conscience. It has been mentioned in\nthe preceding chapter that the celebrated golden rule of justice was\nalready enunciated by Greek moralists in the fourth century B.C.\nPossibly it may have been first formulated by Socrates. In all cases\nit occurs in the writings of his disciples, and happily expresses the\ndrift of his entire philosophy. This generalising tendency was, indeed,\nso natural to a noble Greek, that instances of it occur long before\nphilosophy began. We find it in the famous question of Achilles: \u2018Did\nnot this whole war begin on account of a woman? Are the Atreidae the\nonly men who love their wives?\u2019[99] and in the now not less famous\napostrophe to Lycaon, reminding him that an early death is the lot of\nfar worthier men than he[100]\u2014utterances which come on us with the\nawful effect of lightning flashes, that illuminate the whole horizon of\nexistence while they paralyse or destroy an individual victim.\n\nThe power which Socrates possessed of rousing other minds to\nindependent activity and apostolic transmission of spiritual gifts was,\nas we have said, the second verification of his doctrine. Even those\nwho, like Antisthenes and Aristippus, derived their positive theories\nfrom the Sophists rather than from him, preferred to be regarded as his\nfollowers; and Plato, from whom his ideas received their most splendid\ndevelopment, has acknowledged the debt by making that venerated figure\nthe centre of his own immortal Dialogues. A third verification is given\nby the subjective, practical, dialectic tendency of all subsequent\nphilosophy properly so called. On this point we will content ourselves\nwith mentioning one instance out of many, the recent declaration of Mr.\nHerbert Spencer that his whole system was constructed for the sake of\nits ethical conclusion.[101]\n\nApart, however, from abstract speculation, the ideal method seems to\nhave exercised an immediate and powerful influence on Art, an influence\nwhich was anticipated by Socrates himself. In two conversations\nreported by Xenophon,[102] he impresses on Parrhasius, the painter,\nand Cleito, the sculptor, the importance of so animating the faces and\nfigures which they represented as to make them express human feelings,\nenergies, and dispositions, particularly those of the most interesting\nand elevated type. And such, in fact, was the direction followed by\nimitative art after Pheidias, though not without degenerating into a\nsensationalism which Socrates would have severely condemned. Another\nand still more remarkable proof of the influence exercised on plastic\nrepresentation by ideal philosophy was, perhaps, not foreseen by its\nfounder. We allude to the substitution of abstract and generic for\nhistorical subjects by Greek sculpture in its later stages, and not by\nsculpture only, but by dramatic poetry as well. For early art, whether\nit addressed itself to the eye or to the imagination, and whether\nits subjects were taken from history or from fiction, had always\nbeen historical in this sense, that it exhibited the performance of\nparticular actions by particular persons in a given place and at a\ngiven time; the mode of presentment most natural to those whose ideas\nare mainly determined by contiguous association. The schools which came\nafter Socrates let fall the limitations of concrete reality, and found\nthe unifying principle of their works in association by resemblance,\nmaking their figures the personification of a single attribute or\ngroup of attributes, and bringing together forms distinguished by\nthe community of their characteristics or the convergence of their\nfunctions. Thus Aphrodit\u00ea no longer figured as the lover of Ar\u00eas or\nAnchis\u00eas, but as the personification of female beauty; while her\nstatues were grouped together with images of the still more transparent\nabstractions, Love, Longing, and Desire. Similarly Apollo became\na personification of musical enthusiasm, and Dionysus of Bacchic\ninspiration. So also dramatic art, once completely historical, even\nwith Aristophanes, now chose for its subjects such constantly-recurring\ntypes as the ardent lover, the stern father, the artful slave, the\nboastful soldier, and the fawning parasite.[103]\n\nNor was this all. Thought, after having, as it would seem, wandered\naway from reality in search of empty abstractions, by the help of\nthose very abstractions regained possession of concrete existence,\nand acquired a far fuller intelligence of its complex manifestations.\nFor, each individual character is an assemblage of qualities, and can\nonly be understood when those qualities, after having been separately\nstudied, are finally recombined. Thus, biography is a very late\nproduction of literature, and although biographies are the favourite\nreading of those who most despise philosophy, they could never have\nbeen written without its help. Moreover, before characters can be\ndescribed they must exist. Now, it is partly philosophy which calls\ncharacter into existence by sedulous inculcation of self-knowledge and\nself-culture, by consolidating a man\u2019s individuality into something\nindependent of circumstances, so that it comes to form, not a figure\nin bas-relief, but what sculptors call a figure in the round. Such was\nSocrates himself, and such were the figures which he taught Xenophon\nand Plato to recognise and portray. Character-drawing begins with\nthem, and the _Memorabilia_ in particular is the earliest attempt at a\nbiographical analysis that we possess. From this to Plutarch\u2019s _Lives_\nthere was still a long journey to be accomplished, but the interval\nbetween them is less considerable than that which divides Xenophon\nfrom his immediate predecessor, Thucydides. And when we remember how\nintimately the substance of Christian teaching is connected with the\nliterary form of its first record, we shall still better appreciate the\nall-penetrating influence of Hellenic thought, vying, as it does, with\nthe forces of nature in subtlety and universal diffusion.\n\nBesides transforming art and literature, the dialectic method helped\nto revolutionise social life, and the impulse communicated in this\ndirection is still very far from being exhausted. We allude to its\ninfluence on female education. The intellectual blossoming of Athens\nwas aided, in its first development, by a complete separation of the\nsexes. There were very few of his friends to whom an Athenian gentleman\ntalked so little as to his wife.[104] Colonel Mure aptly compares\nher position to that of an English housekeeper, with considerably\nless liberty than is enjoyed by the latter. Yet the union of tender\nadmiration with the need for intelligent sympathy and the desire to\nawaken interest in noble pursuits existed at Athens in full force, and\ncreated a field for its exercise. Wilhelm von Humboldt has observed\nthat at this time chivalrous love was kept alive by customs which, to\nus, are intensely repellent. That so valuable a sentiment should be\npreserved and diverted into a more legitimate channel was an object\nof the highest importance. The naturalistic method of ethics did\nmuch, but it could not do all, for more was required than a return to\nprimitive simplicity. Here the method of mind stepped in and supplied\nthe deficiency. Reciprocity was the soul of dialectic as practised by\nSocrates, and the dialectic of love demands a reciprocity of passion\nwhich can only exist between the sexes. But in a society where the free\nintercourse of modern Europe was not permitted, the modern sentiment\ncould not be reached at a single bound; and those who sought for the\nconversation of intelligent women had to seek for it among a class of\nwhich Aspasia was the highest representative. Such women played a great\npart in later Athenian society; they attended philosophical lectures,\nfurnished heroines to the New Comedy, and on the whole gave a healthier\ntone to literature. Their successors, the Delias and Cynthias of Roman\nelegiac poetry, called forth strains of exalted affection which need\nnothing but a worthier object to place them on a level with the noblest\nexpressions of tenderness that have since been heard. Here at least,\nto understand is to forgive; and we shall be less scandalised than\ncertain critics,[105] we shall even refuse to admit that Socrates fell\nbelow the dignity of a moralist, when we hear that he once visited a\ncelebrated beauty of this class, Theodot\u00ea by name;[106] that he engaged\nher in a playful conversation; and that he taught her to put more mind\ninto her profession; to attract by something deeper than personal\ncharms; to show at least an appearance of interest in the welfare\nof her lovers; and to stimulate their ardour by a studied reserve,\ngranting no favour that had not been repeatedly and passionately sought\nafter.\n\nXenophon gives the same interest a more edifying direction when he\nenlivens the dry details of his _Cyropaedia_ with touching episodes\nof conjugal affection, or presents lessons in domestic economy under\nthe form of conversations between a newly-married couple.[107] Plato\nin some respects transcends, in others falls short of his less gifted\ncontemporary. For his doctrine of love as an educating process\u2014a true\ndoctrine, all sneers and perversions notwithstanding\u2014though readily\napplicable to the relation of the sexes, is not applied to it by\nhim; and his project of a common training for men and women, though\nsuggestive of a great advance on the existing system if rightly carried\nout, was, from his point of view, a retrograde step towards savage or\neven animal life, an attempt to throw half the burdens incident to a\nmilitary organisation of society on those who had become absolutely\nincapable of bearing them.\n\nFortunately, the dialectic method proved stronger than its own\ncreators, and, once set going, introduced feelings and experiences\nof which they had never dreamed, within the horizon of philosophic\nconsciousness. It was found that if women had much to learn, much\nalso might be learned from them. Their wishes could not be taken into\naccount without giving a greatly increased prominence in the guidance\nof conduct to such sentiments as fidelity, purity, and pity; and to\nthat extent the religion which they helped to establish has, at least\nin principle, left no room for any further progress. On the other hand,\nit is only by reason that the more exclusively feminine impulses can\nbe freed from their primitive narrowness and elevated into truly human\nemotions. Love, when left to itself, causes more pain than pleasure,\nfor the words of the old idyl still remain true which associate it with\njealousy as cruel as the grave; pity, without prevision, creates more\nsuffering than it relieves; and blind fidelity is instinctively opposed\neven to the most beneficent changes. We are still suffering from the\nexcessive preponderance which Catholicism gave to the ideas of women;\nbut we need not listen to those who tell us that the varied experiences\nof humanity cannot be organised into a rational, consistent,\nself-supporting whole.\n\nA survey of the Socratic philosophy would be incomplete without some\ncomment on an element in the life of Socrates, which at first sight\nseems to lie altogether outside philosophy. There is no fact in his\nhistory more certain than that he believed himself to be constantly\naccompanied by a Daemonium, a divine voice often restraining him, even\nin trifling matters, but never prompting to positive action. That\nit was neither conscience in our sense of the word, nor a supposed\nfamiliar spirit, is now generally admitted. Even those who believe in\nthe supernatural origin and authority of our moral feelings do not\ncredit them with a power of divining the accidentally good or evil\nconsequences which may attend on our most trivial and indifferent\nactions; while, on the other hand, those feelings have a positive\nno less than a negative function, which is exhibited whenever the\nperformance of good deeds becomes a duty. That the Daemonium was not\na personal attendant is proved by the invariable use of an indefinite\nneuter adjective to designate it. How the phenomenon itself should be\nexplained is a question for professional pathologists. We have here to\naccount for the interpretation put upon it by Socrates, and this, in\nour judgment, follows quite naturally from his characteristic mode of\nthought. That the gods should signify their pleasure by visible signs\nand public oracles was an experience familiar to every Greek. Socrates,\nconceiving God as a mind diffused through the whole universe, would\nlook for traces of the Divine presence in his own mind, and would\nreadily interpret any inward suggestion, not otherwise to be accounted\nfor, as a manifestation of this all-pervading power. Why it should\ninvariably appear under the form of a restraint is less obvious. The\nonly explanation seems to be that, as a matter of fact, such mysterious\nfeelings, whether the product of unconscious experience or not, do\nhabitually operate as deterrents rather than as incentives.\n\n\nVII.\n\nThis Daemonium, whatever it may have been, formed one of the ostensible\ngrounds on which its possessor was prosecuted and condemned to death\nfor impiety. We might have spared ourselves the trouble of going\nover the circumstances connected with that tragical event, had not\nvarious attempts been made in some well-known works to extenuate\nthe significance of a singularly atrocious crime. The case stands\nthus. In the year 399 B.C. Socrates, who was then over seventy, and\nhad never in his life been brought before a law-court, was indicted\non the threefold charge of introducing new divinities, of denying\nthose already recognised by the State, and of corrupting young men.\nHis principal accuser was one Mel\u00eatus, a poet, supported by Lycon, a\nrhetorician, and by a much more powerful backer, Anytus, a leading\ncitizen in the restored democracy. The charge was tried before a\nlarge popular tribunal, numbering some five hundred members. Socrates\nregarded the whole affair with profound indifference. When urged\nto prepare a defence, he replied, with justice, that he had been\npreparing it his whole life long. He could not, indeed, have easily\nforeseen what line the prosecutors would take. Our own information\non this point is meagre enough, being principally derived from\nallusions made by Xenophon, who was not himself present at the trial.\nThere seems, however, no unfairness in concluding that the charge of\nirreligion neither was nor could be substantiated. The evidence of\nXenophon is quite sufficient to establish the unimpeachable orthodoxy\nof his friend. If it really was an offence at Athens to believe in\ngods unrecognised by the State, Socrates was not guilty of that\noffence, for his Daemonium was not a new divinity, but a revelation\nfrom the established divinities, such as individual believers have\nat all times been permitted to receive even by the most jealous\nreligious communities. The imputation of infidelity, commonly and\nindiscriminately brought against all philosophers, was a particularly\nunhappy one to fling at the great opponent of physical science, who,\nbesides, was noted for the punctual discharge of his religious duties.\nThat the first two counts of the indictment should be so frivolous\nraises a strong prejudice against the third. The charges of corruption\nseem to have come under two heads\u2014alleged encouragement of disrespect\nto parents, and of disaffection towards democratic institutions. In\nsupport of the former some innocent expressions let fall by Socrates\nseem to have been taken up and cruelly perverted. By way of stimulating\nhis young friends to improve their minds, he had observed that\nrelations were only of value when they could help one another, and\nthat to do so they must be properly educated. This was twisted into\nan assertion that ignorant parents might properly be placed under\nrestraint by their better-informed children. That such an inference\ncould not have been sanctioned by Socrates himself is obvious from\nhis insisting on the respect due even to so intolerable a mother as\nXanthipp\u00ea.[108] The political opinions of the defendant presented a\nmore vulnerable point for attack. He thought the custom of choosing\nmagistrates by lot absurd, and did not conceal his contempt for it.\nThere is, however, no reason for believing that such purely theoretical\ncriticisms were forbidden by law or usage at Athens. At any rate,\nmuch more revolutionary sentiments were tolerated on the stage. That\nSocrates would be no party to a violent subversion of the Constitution,\nand would regard it with high disapproval, was abundantly clear both\nfrom his life and from the whole tenor of his teaching. In opposition\nto Hippias, he defined justice as obedience to the law of the land.\nThe chances of the lot had, on one memorable occasion, called him to\npreside over the deliberations of the Sovereign Assembly. A proposition\nwas made, contrary to law, that the generals who were accused of having\nabandoned the crews of their sunken ships at Arginusae should be tried\nin a single batch. In spite of tremendous popular clamour, Socrates\nrefused to put the question to the vote on the single day for which\nhis office lasted. The just and resolute man, who would not yield to\nthe unrighteous demands of a crowd, had shortly afterwards to face the\nthreats of a frowning tyrant. When the Thirty were installed in power,\nhe publicly, and at the risk of his life, expressed disapproval of\ntheir sanguinary proceedings. The oligarchy, wishing to involve as many\nrespectable citizens as possible in complicity with their crimes, sent\nfor five persons, of whom Socrates was one, and ordered them to bring\na certain Leo from Salamis, that he might be put to death; the others\nobeyed, but Socrates refused to accompany them on their disgraceful\nerrand. Nevertheless, it told heavily against the philosopher that\nAlcibiades, the most mischievous of demagogues, and Critias, the most\nsavage of aristocrats, passed for having been educated by him. It was\nremembered, also, that he was in the habit of quoting a passage from\nHomer, where Odysseus is described as appealing to the reason of the\nchiefs, while he brings inferior men to their senses with rough words\nand rougher chastisement. In reality, Socrates did not mean that the\npoor should be treated with brutality by the rich, for he would have\nbeen the first to suffer had such license been permitted, but he\nmeant that where reason failed harsher methods of coercion must be\napplied. Precisely because expressions of opinion let fall in private\nconversation are so liable to be misunderstood or purposely perverted,\nto adduce them in support of a capital charge where no overt act can\nbe alleged, is the most mischievous form of encroachment on individual\nliberty.\n\nModern critics, beginning with Hegel,[109] have discovered reasons\nfor considering Socrates a dangerous character, which apparently did\nnot occur to Mel\u00eatus and his associates. We are told that the whole\nsystem of applying dialectics to morality had an unsettling tendency,\nfor if men were once taught that the sacredness of duty rested on\ntheir individual conviction they might refuse to be convinced, and act\naccordingly. And it is further alleged that Socrates first introduced\nthis principle of subjectivity into morals. The persecuting spirit\nis so insatiable that in default of acts it attacks opinions, and in\ndefault of specific opinions it fastens on general tendencies. We\nknow that Joseph de Maistre was suspected by his ignorant neighbours\nof being a Revolutionist because most of his time was spent in study;\nand but the other day a French preacher was sent into exile by his\necclesiastical superiors for daring to support Catholic morality on\nrational grounds.[110] Fortunately Greek society was not subject to\nthe rules of the Dominican Order. Never anywhere in Greece, certainly\nnot at Athens, did there exist that solid, all-comprehensive,\nunquestionable fabric of traditional obligation assumed by Hegel; and\nZeller is conceding far too much when he defends Socrates, on the sole\nground that the recognised standards of right had fallen into universal\ncontempt during the Peloponnesian war, while admitting that he might\nfairly have been silenced at an earlier period, if indeed his teaching\ncould have been conceived as possible before it actually began.[111]\nFor from the first, both in literature and in life, Greek thought\nis distinguished by an ardent desire to get to the bottom of every\nquestion, and to discover arguments of universal applicability for\nevery decision. Even in the youth of Pericles knotty ethical problems\nwere eagerly discussed without any interference on the part of the\npublic authorities. Experience had to prove how far-reaching was the\neffect of ideas before a systematic attempt could be made to control\nthem.\n\nIn what terms Socrates replied to his accusers cannot be stated with\nabsolute certainty. Reasons have been already given for believing that\nthe speech put into his mouth by Plato is not entirely historical;\nand here we may mention as a further reason that the specific charges\nmentioned by Xenophon are not even alluded to in it. This much,\nhowever, is clear, that the defence was of a thoroughly dignified\ncharacter; and that, while the allegations of the prosecution were\nsuccessfully rebutted, the defendant stood entirely on his innocence,\nand refused to make any of the customary but illegal appeals to the\ncompassion of the court. We are assured that he was condemned solely on\naccount of this defiant attitude, and by a very small majority. Mel\u00eatus\nhad demanded the penalty of death, but by Attic law Socrates had the\nright of proposing some milder sentence as an alternative. According\nto Plato, he began by stating that the justest return for his entire\ndevotion to the public good would be maintenance at the public expense\nduring the remainder of his life, an honour usually granted to victors\nat the Olympic games. In default of this he proposed a fine of thirty\nminae, to be raised by contributions among his friends. According to\nanother account,[112] he refused, on the ground of his innocence,\nto name any alternative penalty. On a second division Socrates was\ncondemned to death by a much larger majority than that which had found\nhim guilty, eighty of those who had voted for his acquittal now voting\nfor his execution.\n\nSuch was the transaction which some moderns, Grote among the number,\nholding Socrates to be one of the best and wisest of men, have\nendeavoured to excuse. Their argument is that the illustrious victim\nwas jointly responsible for his own fate, and that he was really\ncondemned, not for his teaching, but for contempt of court. To us it\nseems that this is a distinction without a difference. What has been\nso finely said of space and time may be said also of the Socratic\nlife and the Socratic doctrine; each was contained entire in every\npoint of the other. Such as he appeared to the Dicastery, such also he\nappeared everywhere, always, and to all men, offering them the truth,\nthe whole truth, and nothing but the truth. If conduct like his was\nnot permissible in a court of law, then it was not permissible at all;\nif justice could not be administered without reticences, evasions, and\ndisguises, where was sincerity ever to be practised? If reason was not\nto be the paramount arbitress in questions of public interest, what\nissues could ever be entrusted to her decision? Admit every extenuating\ncircumstance that the utmost ingenuity can devise, and from every point\nof view one fact will come out clearly, that Socrates was impeached as\na philosopher, that he defended himself like a philosopher, and that\nhe was condemned to death because he was a philosopher. Those who\nattempt to remove this stain from the character of the Athenian people\nwill find that, like the blood-stain on Bluebeard\u2019s key, when it is\nrubbed out on one side it reappears on the other. To punish Socrates\nfor his teaching, or for the way in which he defended his teaching, was\nequally persecution, and persecution of the worst description, that\nwhich attacks not the results of free thought but free thought itself.\nWe cannot then agree with Grote when he says that the condemnation\nof Socrates \u2018ought to count as one of the least gloomy items in an\nessentially gloomy catalogue.\u2019 On the contrary, it is the gloomiest of\nany, because it reveals a depth of hatred for pure reason in vulgar\nminds which might otherwise have remained unsuspected. There is some\nexcuse for other persecutors, for Caiaphas, and St. Dominic, and\nCalvin: for the Inquisition, and for the authors of the dragonnades;\nfor the judges of Giordano Bruno, and the judges of Vanini: they were\nstriving to exterminate particular opinions, which they believed to be\nboth false and pernicious; there is no such excuse for the Athenian\ndicasts, least of all for those eighty who, having pronounced Socrates\ninnocent, sentenced him to death because he reasserted his innocence;\nif, indeed, innocence be not too weak a word to describe his life-long\nbattle against that very irreligion and corruption which were laid to\nhis charge. Here, in this one cause, the great central issue between\ntwo abstract principles, the principle of authority and the principle\nof reason, was cleared from all adventitious circumstances, and\ndisputed on its own intrinsic merits with the usual weapons of argument\non the one side and brute force on the other. On that issue Socrates\nwas finally condemned, and on it his judges must be condemned by us.\n\nNeither can we admit Grote\u2019s further contention, that in no Greek\ncity but Athens would Socrates have been permitted to carry on his\ncross-examining activity for so long a period. On the contrary, we\nagree with Colonel Mure,[113] that in no other state would he have been\nmolested. Xenophanes and Parmenides, Heracleitus and Democritus, had\ngiven utterance to far bolder opinions than his, opinions radically\ndestructive of Greek religion, apparently without running the slightest\npersonal risk; while Athens had more than once before shown the same\nspirit of fanatical intolerance, though without proceeding to such a\nfatal extreme, thanks, probably, to the timely escape of her intended\nvictims. M. Ernest Renan has quite recently contrasted the freedom of\nthought accorded by Roman despotism with the narrowness of old Greek\nRepublicanism, quoting what he calls the Athenian Inquisition as a\nsample of the latter. The word inquisition is not too strong, only\nthe lecturer should not have led his audience to believe that Greek\nRepublicanism was in this respect fairly represented by its most\nbrilliant type, for had such been the case very little free thought\nwould have been left for Rome to tolerate.\n\nDuring the month\u2019s respite accidentally allowed him, Socrates had one\nmore opportunity of displaying that stedfast obedience to the law\nwhich had been one of his great guiding principles through life. The\nmeans of escaping from prison were offered to him, but he refused to\navail himself of them, according to Plato, that the implicit contract\nof loyalty to which his citizenship had bound him might be preserved\nunbroken. Nor was death unwelcome to him although it is not true that\nhe courted it, any desire to figure as a martyr being quite alien from\nthe noble simplicity of his character. But he had reached an age when\nthe daily growth in wisdom which for him alone made life worth living,\nseemed likely to be exchanged for a gradual and melancholy decline.\nThat this past progress was a good in itself he never doubted, whether\nit was to be continued in other worlds, or succeeded by the happiness\nof an eternal sleep. And we may be sure that he would have held his\nown highest good to be equally desirable for the whole human race, even\nwith the clear prevision that its collective aspirations and efforts\ncannot be prolonged for ever.\n\nTwo philosophers only can be named who, in modern times, have rivalled\nor approached the moral dignity of Socrates. Like him, Spinoza\nrealised his own ideal of a good and happy life. Like him, Giordano\nBruno, without a hope of future recompense, chose death rather than a\nlife unfaithful to the highest truth, and death, too, under its most\nterrible form, not the painless extinction by hemlock inflicted in a\nheathen city, but the agonising dissolution intended by Catholic love\nto serve as a foretaste of everlasting fire. Yet with neither can the\nparallel be extended further; for Spinoza, wisely perhaps, refused\nto face the storms which a public profession and propagation of his\ndoctrine would have raised; and the wayward career of Giordano Bruno\nwas not in keeping with its heroic end. The complex and distracting\nconditions in which their lot was cast did not permit them to attain\nthat statuesque completeness which marked the classic age of Greek life\nand thought. Those times developed a wilder energy, a more stubborn\nendurance, a sweeter purity than any that the ancient world had known.\nBut until the scattered elements are recombined in a still loftier\nharmony, our sleepless thirst for perfection can be satisfied at one\nspring alone. Pericles must remain the ideal of statesmanship, Pheidias\nof artistic production, and Socrates of philosophic power.\n\nBefore the ideas which we have passed in review could go forth on their\nworld-conquering mission, it was necessary, not only that Socrates\nshould die, but that his philosophy should die also, by being absorbed\ninto the more splendid generalisations of Plato\u2019s system. That system\nhas, for some time past, been made an object of close study in our\nmost famous seats of learning, and a certain acquaintance with it has\nalmost become part of a liberal education in England. No better source\nof inspiration, combined with discipline, could be found; but we shall\nunderstand and appreciate Plato still better by first extricating\nthe nucleus round which his speculations have gathered in successive\ndeposits, and this we can only do with the help of Xenophon, whose\nlittle work also well deserves attention for the sake of its own chaste\nand candid beauty. The relation in which it stands to the Platonic\nwritings may be symbolised by an example familiar to the experience\nof every traveller. As sometimes, in visiting a Gothic cathedral, we\nare led through the wonders of the more modern edifice\u2014under soaring\narches, over tesselated pavements, and between long rows of clustered\ncolumns, past frescoed walls, storied windows, carven pulpits,\nand sepulchral monuments, with their endless wealth of mythologic\nimagery\u2014down into the oldest portion of any, the bare stern crypt,\nsevere with the simplicity of early art, resting on pillars taken from\nan ancient temple, and enclosing the tomb of some martyred saint, to\nwhose glorified spirit an office of perpetual intercession before\nthe mercy-seat is assigned, and in whose honour all that external\nmagnificence has been piled up; so also we pass through the manifold\nand marvellous constructions of Plato\u2019s imagination to that austere\nmemorial where Xenophon has enshrined with pious care, under the great\nprimary divisions of old Hellenic virtue, an authentic reliquary of\none standing foremost among those who, having worked out their own\ndeliverance from the powers of error and evil, would not be saved\nalone, but published the secret of redemption though death were the\npenalty of its disclosure; and who, by their transmitted influence,\neven more than by their eternal example, are still contributing to the\nprogressive development of all that is most rational, most consistent,\nmost social, and therefore most truly human in ourselves.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[80] Cf. Havet, _Le Christianisme et ses Origines_, I., 167.\n\n[81] _Gesch. d. Phil._, II., 47.\n\n[82] The oracle quoted in the _Apologia Socratis_ attributed to\nXenophon praises Socrates not for wisdom but for independence, justice,\nand temperance. Moreover, the work in question is held to be spurious\nby nearly every critic.\n\n[83] _Mem._, IV., vi., 1.\n\n[84] _Mem._, IV., iv., 10.\n\n[85] Zeller, _Ph. d. Gr._, II., a, 103, note 3 _sub fin._\n\n[86] It may possibly be asked, Why, if Plato gave only an ideal picture\nof Socrates, are we to accept his versions of the Sophistic teaching\nas literally exact? The answer is that he was compelled, by the nature\nof the case, to create an imaginary Socrates, while he could have no\nconceivable object in ascribing views which he did not himself hold\nto well-known historical personages. Assuming an unlimited right of\nmaking fictitious statements for the public good, his principles would\nsurely not have permitted him wantonly to calumniate his innocent\ncontemporaries by foisting on them odious theories for which they were\nnot responsible. Had nobody held such opinions as those attributed\nto Thrasymachus in the _Republic_ there would have been no object\nin attacking them; and if anybody held them, why not Thrasymachus\nas well as another? With regard to the veracity of the _Apologia_,\nGrote, in his work on Plato (I. 291), quotes a passage from Aristeides\nthe rhetor, stating that all the companions of Socrates agreed about\nthe Delphic oracle, and the Socratic disclaimer of knowledge. This,\nhowever, proves too much, for it shows that Aristeides quite overlooked\nthe absence of any reference to either point in Xenophon, and therefore\ncannot be trusted to give an accurate report of the other authorities.\n\n[87] _Ph. d. Gr._, II., a, 93 ff.\n\n[88] In the conversation with Hippias already referred to.\n\n[89] _Mem._, III., ix., 4.\n\n[90] _Mem._, III., vi.\n\n[91] _Mem._, IV., ii.\n\n[92] _Mem._, IV., iii.\n\n[93] _Mem._, III., ix., 10.\n\n[94] _Mem._, IV., vi., 14.\n\n[95] Xenophon, _Mem._, III., vii. We may incidentally notice that this\npassage is well worth the attention of those who look on the Athenian\nD\u00eamos as an idle and aristocratic body, supported by slave labour.\n\n[96] _Metaph._, XIII., iv.\n\n[97] _Mem._, I., iv.\n\n[98] \u2018Il sait que, dans l\u2019int\u00e9r\u00eat m\u00eame du bien, il ne faut pas imposer\nle bien d\u2019une mani\u00e8re trop absolue, le jeu libre de la libert\u00e9 \u00e9tant\nla condition de la vie humaine.... poursuite en toutes choses du bien\npublic, non des applaudissements.\u2019\u2014Renan, _Marc-Aur\u00e8le_, pp. 18, 19.\n\n[99] _Il._, IX., 337.\n\n[100] _Ib._, XXI., 106.\n\n[101] In the preface to the _Data of Ethics_.\n\n[102] _Mem._, III., x.\n\n[103] Curtius, _Griechische Geschichte_, III., 526-30 (3rd ed.), where,\nhowever, the revolution in art is attributed to the influence of the\nSophists.\n\n[104] Xenoph., _Oeconom._, iii., 12.\n\n[105] Mure, _History of Grecian Literature_, IV., 451.\n\n[106] _Mem._, III., xi.\n\n[107] _Oeconom._, vii., 4 ff.\n\n[108] _Mem._, II., i.\n\n[109] _Gesch. d. Ph._, II., 100 ff.\n\n[110] Written in the spring of 1880. The allusion is to Father Didon,\nwho was at that time rusticated in Corsica.\n\n[111] _Ph. d. Gr._, II., a, 192.\n\n[112] In the _Apologia_, attributed to Xenophon.\n\n[113] _Hist. of Gr. Lit._, IV., App. A.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nPLATO: HIS TEACHERS AND HIS TIMES.\n\n\nI.\n\nIn studying the growth of philosophy as an historical evolution,\nrepetitions and anticipations must necessarily be of frequent\noccurrence. Ideas meet us at every step which can only be appreciated\nwhen we trace out their later developments, or only understood when\nwe refer them back to earlier and half-forgotten modes of thought.\nThe speculative tissue is woven out of filaments so delicate and so\ncomplicated that it is almost impossible to say where one begins and\nthe other ends. Even conceptions which seem to have been transmitted\nwithout alteration are constantly acquiring a new value according\nto the connexions into which they enter or the circumstances to\nwhich they are applied. But if the method of evolution, with its two\ngreat principles of continuity and relativity, substitutes a maze\nof intricate lines, often returning on themselves, for the straight\npath along which progress was once supposed to move, we are more\nthan compensated by the new sense of coherence and rationality where\nillusion and extravagance once seemed to reign supreme. It teaches us\nthat the dreams of a great intellect may be better worth our attention\nthan the waking perceptions of ordinary men. Combining fragments of\nthe old order with rudimentary outlines of the new, they lay open the\nsecret laboratory of spiritual chemistry, and help to bridge over the\ninterval separating the most widely contrasted phases of life and\nthought. Moreover, when we have once accustomed ourselves to break up\npast systems of philosophy into their component elements, when we see\nhow heterogeneous and ill-cemented were the parts of this and that\nproud edifice once offered as the only possible shelter against dangers\nthreatening the very existence of civilisation\u2014we shall be prepared\nfor the application of a similar method to contemporary systems of\nequally ambitious pretensions; distinguishing that which is vital,\nfruitful, original, and progressive in their ideal synthesis from\nthat which is of merely provisional and temporary value, when it is\nnot the literary resuscitation of a dead past, visionary, retrograde,\nand mischievously wrong. And we shall also be reminded that the most\nprecious ideas have only been shaped, preserved, and transmitted\nthrough association with earthy and perishable ingredients. The\nfunction of true criticism is, like Robert Browning\u2019s Roman jeweller,\nto turn on them \u2018the proper fiery acid\u2019 of purifying analysis which\ndissolves away the inferior metal and leaves behind the gold ring\nwhereby thought and action are inseparably and fruitfully united.\n\nSuch, as it seems to us, is the proper spirit in which we should\napproach the great thinker whose works are to occupy us in this and\nthe succeeding chapter. No philosopher has ever offered so extended\nand vulnerable a front to hostile criticism. None has so habitually\nprovoked reprisals by his own incessant and searching attacks on\nall existing professions, customs, and beliefs. It might even be\nmaintained that none has used the weapons of controversy with more\nunscrupulous zeal. And it might be added that he who dwells so much on\nthe importance of consistency has occasionally denounced and ridiculed\nthe very principles which he elsewhere upholds as demonstrated truths.\nIt was an easy matter for others to complete the work of destruction\nwhich he had begun. His system seems at first sight to be made up of\nassertions, one more outrageous than another. The ascription of an\nobjective concrete separate reality to verbal abstractions is assuredly\nthe most astounding paradox ever maintained even by a metaphysician.\nYet this is the central article of Plato\u2019s creed. That body is\nessentially different from extension might, one would suppose, have\nbeen sufficiently clear to a mathematician who had the advantage of\ncoming after Leucippus and Democritus. Their identity is implicitly\naffirmed in the _Timaeus_. That the soul cannot be both created and\neternal; that the doctrine of metempsychosis is incompatible with the\nhereditary transmission of mental qualities; that a future immortality\nequivalent to, and proved by the same arguments as, our antenatal\nexistence, would be neither a terror to the guilty nor a consolation\nto the righteous:\u2014are propositions implicitly denied by Plato\u2019s\npsychology. Passing from theoretical to practical philosophy, it\nmight be observed that respect for human life, respect for individual\nproperty, respect for marriage, and respect for truthfulness, are\ngenerally numbered among the strongest moral obligations, and those\nthe observance of which most completely distinguishes civilised\nfrom savage man; while infanticide, communism, promiscuity, and the\noccasional employment of deliberate deceit, form part of Plato\u2019s scheme\nfor the redemption of mankind. We need not do more than allude to\nthose Dialogues where the phases and symptoms of unnameable passion\nare delineated with matchless eloquence, and apparently with at least\nas much sympathy as censure. Finally, from the standpoint of modern\nscience, it might be urged that Plato used all his powerful influence\nto throw back physical speculation into the theological stage; that he\ndeliberately discredited the doctrine of mechanical causation which,\nfor us, is the most important achievement of early Greek thought; that\nhe expatiated on the criminal folly of those who held the heavenly\nbodies to be, what we now know them to be, masses of dead matter with\nno special divinity about them; and that he proposed to punish this\nand other heresies with a severity distinguishable from the fitful\nfanaticism of his native city only by its more disciplined and rigorous\napplication.\n\nA plain man might find it difficult to understand how such\nextravagances could be deliberately propounded by the greatest\nintellect that Athens ever produced, except on the principle, dear to\nmediocrity, that genius is but little removed from madness, and that\nphilosophical genius resembles it more nearly than any other. And his\nsurprise would become much greater on learning that the best and wisest\nmen of all ages have looked up with reverence to Plato; that thinkers\nof the most opposite schools have resorted to him for instruction and\nstimulation; that his writings have never been more attentively studied\nthan in our own age\u2014an age which has witnessed the destruction of so\nmany illusive reputations; and that the foremost of English educators\nhas used all his influence to promote the better understanding and\nappreciation of Plato as a prime element in academic culture\u2014an\ninfluence now extended far beyond the limits of his own university\nthrough that translation of the Platonic Dialogues which is too well\nknown to need any commendation on our part, but which we may mention as\none of the principal authorities used for the present study, together\nwith the work of a German scholar, his obligations to whom Prof. Jowett\nhas acknowledged with characteristic grace.[114]\n\nAs a set-off against the list of paradoxes cited from Plato, it would\nbe easy to quote a still longer list of brilliant contributions to\nthe cause of truth and right, to strike a balance between the two,\nand to show that there was a preponderance on the positive side\nsufficiently great to justify the favourable verdict of posterity.\nWe believe, however, that such a method would be as misleading as\nit is superficial. Neither Plato nor any other thinker of the same\ncalibre\u2014if any other there be\u2014should be estimated by a simple\nanalysis of his opinions. We must go back to the underlying forces\nof which individual opinions are the resultant and the revelation.\nEvery systematic synthesis represents certain profound intellectual\ntendencies, derived partly from previous philosophies, partly from the\nsocial environment, partly from the thinker\u2019s own genius and character.\nEach of such tendencies may be salutary and necessary, according to the\nconditions under which it comes into play, and yet two or more of them\nmay form a highly unstable and explosive compound. Nevertheless, it is\nin speculative combinations that they are preserved and developed with\nthe greatest distinctness, and it is there that we must seek for them\nif we would understand the psychological history of our race. And this\nis why we began by intimating that the lines of our investigation may\ntake us back over ground which has been already traversed, and forward\ninto regions which cannot at present be completely surveyed.\n\nWe have this great advantage in dealing with Plato\u2014that his\nphilosophical writings have come down to us entire, while the thinkers\nwho preceded him are known only through fragments and second-hand\nreports. Nor is the difference merely accidental. Plato was the creator\nof speculative literature, properly so called: he was the first and\nalso the greatest artist that ever clothed abstract thought in language\nof appropriate majesty and splendour; and it is probably to their\nbeauty of form that we owe the preservation of his writings. Rather\nunfortunately, however, along with the genuine works of the master, a\ncertain number of pieces have been handed down to us under his name, of\nwhich some are almost universally admitted to be spurious, while the\nauthenticity of others is a question on which the best scholars are\nstill divided. In the absence of any very cogent external evidence,\nan immense amount of industry and learning has been expended on this\nsubject, and the arguments employed on both sides sometimes make\nus doubt whether the reasoning powers of philologists are better\ndeveloped than, according to Plato, were those of mathematicians\nin his time. The two extreme positions are occupied by Grote, who\naccepts the whole Alexandrian canon, and Krohn, who admits nothing\nbut the _Republic_;[115] while much more serious critics, such as\nSchaarschmidt, reject along with a mass of worthless compositions\nseveral Dialogues almost equal in interest and importance to those\nwhose authenticity has never been doubted. The great historian\nof Greece seems to have been rather undiscriminating both in his\nscepticism and in his belief; and the exclusive importance which he\nattributed to contemporary testimony, or to what passed for such\nwith him, may have unduly biassed his judgment in both directions.\nAs it happens, the authority of the canon is much weaker than Grote\nimagined; but even granting his extreme contention, our view of\nPlato\u2019s philosophy would not be seriously affected by it, for the\npieces which are rejected by all other critics have no speculative\nimportance whatever. The case would be far different were we to\nagree with those who impugn the genuineness of the _Parmenides_, the\n_Sophist_, the _Statesman_, the _Phil\u00eabus_, and the _Laws_; for these\ncompositions mark a new departure in Platonism amounting to a complete\ntransformation of its fundamental principles, which indeed is one of\nthe reasons why their authenticity has been denied. Apart, however,\nfrom the numerous evidences of Platonic authorship furnished by the\nDialogues themselves, as well as by the indirect references to them\nin Aristotle\u2019s writings, it seems utterly incredible that a thinker\nscarcely, if at all, inferior to the master himself\u2014as the supposed\nimitator must assuredly have been\u2014should have consented to let his\nreasonings pass current under a false name, and that, too, the name of\none whose teaching he in some respects controverted; while there is a\nfurther difficulty in assuming that his existence could pass unnoticed\nat a period marked by intense literary and philosophical activity.\nReaders who wish for fuller information on the subject will find in\nZeller\u2019s pages a careful and lucid digest of the whole controversy\nleading to a moderately conservative conclusion. Others will doubtless\nbe content to accept Prof. Jowett\u2019s verdict, that \u2018on the whole not\na sixteenth part of the writings which pass under the name of Plato,\nif we exclude the works rejected by the ancients themselves, can be\nfairly doubted by those who are willing to allow that a considerable\nchange and growth may have taken place in his philosophy.\u2019[116] To\nwhich we may add that the Platonic dialogues, whether the work of one\nor more hands, and however widely differing among themselves, together\nrepresent a single phase of thought, and are appropriately studied as a\nconnected series.\n\nWe have assumed in our last remark that it is possible to discover some\nsort of chronological order in the Platonic Dialogues, and to trace a\ncertain progressive modification in the general tenor of their teaching\nfrom first to last. But here also the positive evidence is very scanty,\nand a variety of conflicting theories have been propounded by eminent\nscholars. Where so much is left to conjecture, the best that can be\nsaid for any hypothesis is that it explains the facts according to\nknown laws of thought. It will be for the reader to judge whether our\nown attempt to trace the gradual evolution of Plato\u2019s system satisfies\nthis condition. In making it we shall take as a basis the arrangement\nadopted by Prof. Jowett, with some reservations hereafter to be\nspecified.\n\nBefore entering on our task, one more difficulty remains to be noticed.\nPlato, although the greatest master of prose composition that ever\nlived, and for his time a remarkably voluminous author, cherished a\nstrong dislike for books, and even affected to regret that the art of\nwriting had ever been invented. A man, he said, might amuse himself\nby putting down his ideas on paper, and might even find written\nmemoranda useful for private reference, but the only instruction\nworth speaking of was conveyed by oral communication, which made it\npossible for objections unforeseen by the teacher to be freely urged\nand answered.[117] Such had been the method of Socrates, and such was\ndoubtless the practice of Plato himself whenever it was possible for\nhim to set forth his philosophy by word of mouth. It has been supposed,\nfor this reason, that the great writer did not take his own books in\nearnest, and wished them to be regarded as no more than the elegant\nrecreations of a leisure hour, while his deeper and more serious\nthoughts were reserved for lectures and conversations, of which,\nbeyond a few allusions in Aristotle, every record has perished. That\nsuch, however, was not the case, may be easily shown. In the first\nplace it is evident, from the extreme pains taken by Plato to throw\nhis philosophical expositions into conversational form, that he did\nnot despair of providing a literary substitute for spoken dialogue.\nSecondly, it is a strong confirmation of this theory that Aristotle,\na personal friend and pupil of Plato during many years, should so\nfrequently refer to the Dialogues as authoritative evidences of his\nmaster\u2019s opinions on the most important topics. And, lastly, if it\ncan be shown that the documents in question do actually embody a\ncomprehensive and connected view of life and of the world, we shall\nfeel satisfied that the oral teaching of Plato, had it been preserved,\nwould not modify in any material degree the impression conveyed by his\nwritten compositions.\n\n\nII.\n\nThere is a story that Plato used to thank the gods, in what some might\nconsider a rather Pharisaic spirit, for having made him a human being\ninstead of a brute, a man instead of a woman, and a Greek instead\nof a barbarian; but more than anything else for having permitted\nhim to be born in the time of Socrates. It will be observed that all\nthese blessings tended in one direction, the complete supremacy in\nhis character of reason over impulse and sense. To assert, extend,\nand organise that supremacy was the object of his whole life. Such,\nindeed, had been the object of all his predecessors, and such, stated\ngenerally, has been always and everywhere the object of philosophy;\nbut none had pursued it so consciously before, and none has proclaimed\nit so enthusiastically since then. Now, although Plato could not have\ndone this without a far wider range of knowledge and experience than\nSocrates had possessed, it was only by virtue of the Socratic method\nthat his other gifts and acquisitions could be turned to complete\naccount; while, conversely, it was only when brought to bear upon\nthese new materials that the full power of the method itself could be\nrevealed. To be continually asking and answering questions; to elicit\ninformation from everybody on every subject worth knowing; and to\nelaborate the resulting mass of intellectual material into the most\nconvenient form for practical application or for further transmission,\nwas the secret of true wisdom with the sage of the market-place and\nthe workshop. But the process of dialectic investigation as an end in\nitself, the intense personal interest of conversation with living men\nand women of all classes, the impatience for immediate and visible\nresults, had gradually induced Socrates to restrict within far too\nnarrow limits the sources whence his ideas were derived and the\npurposes to which they were applied. And the dialectic method itself\ncould not but be checked in its internal development by this want of\nbreadth and variety in the topics submitted to its grasp. Therefore the\ndeath of Socrates, however lamentable in its occasion, was an unmixed\nbenefit to the cause for which he laboured, by arresting (as we must\nsuppose it to have arrested) the popular and indiscriminate employment\nof his cross-examining method, liberating his ablest disciple from\nthe ascendency of a revered master, and inducing him to reconsider\nthe whole question of human knowledge and action from a remoter point\nof view. For, be it observed that Plato did not begin where Socrates\nhad left off; he went back to the germinal point of the whole system,\nand proceeded to reconstruct it on new lines of his own. The loss of\nthose whom we love habitually leads our thoughts back to the time of\nour first acquaintance with them, or, if these are ascertainable, to\nthe circumstances of their early life. In this manner Plato seems to\nhave been at first occupied exclusively with the starting-point of\nhis friend\u2019s philosophy, and we know, from the narrative given in the\n_Apologia_, under what form he came to conceive it. We have attempted\nto show that the account alluded to cannot be entirely historical.\nNevertheless it seems sufficiently clear that Socrates began with a\nconviction of his own ignorance, and that his efforts to improve others\nwere prefaced by the extraction of a similar confession of ignorance on\ntheir part. It is also certain that through life he regarded the causes\nof physical phenomena as placed beyond the reach of human reason and\nreserved by the gods for their own exclusive cognisance, pointing, by\nway of proof, to the notorious differences of opinion prevalent among\nthose who had meddled with such matters. Thus, his scepticism worked\nin two directions, but on the one side it was only provisional and\non the other it was only partial. Plato began by combining the two.\nHe maintained that human nescience is universal and necessary; that\nthe gods had reserved all knowledge for themselves; and that the only\nwisdom left for men is a consciousness of their absolute ignorance. The\nSocratic starting-point gave the centre of his agnostic circle; the\nSocratic theology gave the distance at which it was described. Here we\nhave to note two things\u2014first, the breadth of generalisation which\ndistinguishes the disciple from the master; and, secondly, the symptoms\nof a strong religious reaction against Greek humanism. Even before the\nend of the Peloponnesian War, evidence of this reaction had appeared,\nand the _Bacchae_ of Euripides bears striking testimony to its gloomy\nand fanatical character. The last agony of Athens, the collapse of\nher power, and the subsequent period of oligarchic terrorism, must\nhave given a stimulus to superstition like that which quite recently\nafflicted France with an epidemic of apparitions and pilgrimages almost\ntoo childish for belief. Plato followed the general movement, although\non a much higher plane. While looking down with undisguised contempt\non the immoral idolatry of his countrymen, he was equally opposed\nto the irreligion of the New Learning, and, had an opportunity been\ngiven him, he would, like the Reformers of the sixteenth century, have\nput down both with impartial severity. Nor was this the only analogy\nbetween his position and that of a Luther or a Calvin. Like them, and\nindeed like all great religious teachers, he exalted the Creator by\nenlarging on the nothingness of the creature; just as Christianity\nexhibits the holiness of God in contrast and correlation with the\nsinfulness of unregenerate hearts; just as to Pindar man\u2019s life seemed\nbut the fleeting shadow in a dream when compared with the beauty and\nstrength and immortality of the Olympian divinities; so also did Plato\ndeepen the gloom of human ignorance that he might bring out in dazzling\nrelief the fulness of that knowledge which he had been taught to prize\nas a supreme ideal, but which, for that very reason, seemed proper to\nthe highest existences alone. And we shall presently see how Plato\nalso discovered a principle in man by virtue of which he could claim\nkindred with the supernatural, and elaborated a scheme of intellectual\nmediation by which the fallen spirit could be regenerated and made a\npartaker in the kingdom of speculative truth.\n\nYet if Plato\u2019s theology, from its predominantly rational character,\nseemed to neglect some feelings which were better satisfied by the\nearlier or the later faiths of mankind, we cannot say that it really\nexcluded them. The unfading strength of the old gods was comprehended\nin the self-existence of absolute ideas, and moral goodness was\nonly a particular application of reason to the conduct of life. An\nemotional or imaginative element was also contributed by the theory\nthat every faculty exercised without a reasoned consciousness of its\nprocesses and aims was due to some saving grace and inspiration from\na superhuman power. It was thus, according to Plato, that poets and\nartists were able to produce works of which they were not able to\nrender an intelligent account; and it was thus that society continued\nto hold together with such an exceedingly small amount of wisdom and\nvirtue. Here, however, we have to observe a marked difference between\nthe religious teachers pure and simple, and the Greek philosopher\nwho was a dialectician even more than he was a divine. For Plato\nheld that providential government was merely provisional; that the\ninspired prophet stood on a distinctly lower level than the critical,\nself-conscious thinker; that ratiocination and not poetry was the\nhighest function of mind; and that action should be reorganised in\naccordance with demonstrably certain principles.[118]\n\nThis search after a scientific basis for conduct was quite in the\nspirit of Socrates, but Plato seems to have set very little value on\nhis master\u2019s positive contributions to the systematisation of life.\nWe have seen that the _Apologia_ is purely sceptical in its tendency;\nand we find a whole group of Dialogues, probably the earliest of\nPlato\u2019s compositions, marked by the same negative, inconclusive tone.\nThese are commonly spoken of as Socratic, and so no doubt they are in\nreference to the subjects discussed; but they would be more accurately\ndescribed as an attempt to turn the Socratic method against its first\noriginator. We know from another source that temperance, fortitude,\nand piety were the chief virtues inculcated and practised by Socrates;\nwhile friendship, if not strictly speaking a virtue, was equally with\nthem one of his prime interests in life. It is clear that he considered\nthem the most appropriate and remunerative subjects of philosophical\ndiscussion; that he could define their nature to his own satisfaction;\nand that he had, in fact, defined them as so many varieties of wisdom.\nNow, Plato has devoted a separate Dialogue to each of the conceptions\nin question,[119] and in each instance he represents Socrates, who is\nthe principal spokesman, as professedly ignorant of the whole subject\nunder discussion, offering no definition of his own (or at least none\nthat he will stand by), but asking his interlocutors for theirs, and\npulling it to pieces when it is given. We do, indeed, find a tendency\nto resolve the virtues into knowledge, and, so far, either to identify\nthem with one another, or to carry them up into the unity of a higher\nidea. To this extent Plato follows in the footsteps of his master,\nbut a result which had completely satisfied Socrates became the\nstarting-point of a new investigation with his successor. If virtue is\nknowledge, it must be knowledge of what we most desire\u2014of the good.\nThus the original difficulty returns under another form, or rather\nwe have merely restated it in different terms. For, to ask what is\ntemperance or fortitude, is equivalent to asking what is its use. And\nthis was so obvious to Socrates, that, apparently, he never thought\nof distinguishing between the two questions. But no sooner were they\ndistinguished than his reduction of all morality to a single principle\nwas shown to be illusive. For each specific virtue had been substituted\nthe knowledge of a specific utility, and that was all. Unless the\nhighest good were one, the means by which it was sought could not\nconverge to a single point; nor, according to the new ideas, could\ntheir mastery come under the jurisdiction of a single art.\n\nWe may also suspect that Plato was dissatisfied not only with the\npositive results obtained by Socrates, but also with the Socratic\nmethod of constructing general definitions. To rise from the part to\nthe whole, from particular instances to general notions, was a popular\nrather than a scientific process; and sometimes it only amounted\nto taking the current explanations and modifying them to suit the\nexigencies of ordinary experience. The resulting definitions could\nnever be more than tentative, and a skilful dialectician could always\nupset them by producing an unlooked-for exception, or by discovering an\nambiguity in the terms by which they were conveyed.\n\nBefore ascertaining in what direction Plato sought for an outlet\nfrom these accumulated difficulties, we have to glance at a Dialogue\nbelonging apparently to his earliest compositions, but in one respect\noccupying a position apart from the rest. The _Crito_ tells us for\nwhat reasons Socrates refused to escape from the fate which awaited\nhim in prison, as, with the assistance of generous friends, he might\neasily have done. The aged philosopher considered that by adopting\nsuch a course he would be setting the Athenian laws at defiance, and\ndoing what in him lay to destroy their validity. Now, we know that the\nhistorical Socrates held justice to consist in obedience to the law\nof the land; and here for once we find Plato agreeing with him on a\ndefinite and positive issue. Such a sudden and singular abandonment\nof the sceptical attitude merits our attention. It might, indeed, be\nsaid that Plato\u2019s inconsistencies defy all attempts at reconciliation,\nand that in this instance the desire to set his maligned friend in a\nfavourable light triumphed over the claims of an impracticable logic.\nWe think, however, that a deeper and truer solution can be found. If\nthe _Crito_ inculcates obedience to the laws as a binding obligation,\nit is not for the reasons which, according to Xenophon, were adduced\nby the real Socrates in his dispute with the Sophist Hippias; general\nutility and private interest were the sole grounds appealed to then.\nPlato, on the other hand, ignores all such external considerations.\nTrue to his usual method, he reduces the legal conscience to a purely\ndialectical process. Just as in an argument the disputants are, or\nought to be, bound by their own admissions, so also the citizen\nis bound by a tacit compact to fulfil the laws whose protection\nhe has enjoyed and of whose claims his protracted residence is an\nacknowledgment. Here there is no need of a transcendent foundation for\nmorality, as none but logical considerations come into play. And it\nalso deserves to be noticed that, where this very idea of an obligation\nbased on acceptance of services had been employed by Socrates, it was\ndiscarded by Plato. In the _Euthyphro_, a Dialogue devoted to the\ndiscussion of piety, the theory that religion rests on an exchange of\ngood offices between gods and men is mentioned only to be scornfully\nrejected. Equally remarkable, and equally in advance of the Socratic\nstandpoint, is a principle enunciated in the _Crito_, that retaliation\nis wrong, and that evil should never be returned for evil.[120] And\nboth are distinct anticipations of the earliest Christian teaching,\nthough both are implicitly contradicted by the so-called religious\nservices celebrated in Christian churches and by the doctrine of\na divine retribution which is only not retaliatory because it is\ninfinitely in excess of the provocation received.\n\nIf the earliest of Plato\u2019s enquiries, while they deal with the same\nsubjects and are conducted on the same method as those cultivated by\nSocrates, evince a breadth of view surpassing anything recorded of him\nby Xenophon, they also exhibit traces of an influence disconnected with\nand inferior in value to his. On more than one occasion[121] Plato\nreasons, or rather quibbles, in a style which he has elsewhere held up\nto ridicule as characteristic of the Sophists, with such success that\nthe name of sophistry has clung to it ever since. Indeed, some of the\nverbal fallacies employed are so transparent that we can hardly suppose\nthem to be unintentional, and we are forced to conclude that the young\ndespiser of human wisdom was resolved to maintain his thesis with any\nweapons, good or bad, which came to hand. And it seems much more likely\nthat he learned the eristic art from Protagoras or from his disciples\nthan from Socrates. Plato spent a large part of his life in opposing\nthe Sophists\u2014that is to say, the paid professors of wisdom and virtue;\nbut in spite of, or rather perhaps because of, this very opposition,\nhe was profoundly affected by their teaching and example. It is quite\nconceivable, although we do not find it stated as a fact, that he\nresorted to them for instruction when a young man, and before coming\nunder the influence of Socrates, an event which did not take place\nuntil he was twenty years old; or he may have been directed to them by\nSocrates himself. With all its originality, his style bears traces of\na rhetorical training in the more elaborate passages, and the Sophists\nwere the only teachers of rhetoric then to be found. His habit of\nclothing philosophical lessons in the form of a myth seems also to have\nbeen borrowed from them. It would, therefore, not be surprising that he\nshould cultivate their argumentative legerdemain side by side with the\nmore strict and severe discipline of Socratic dialectics.\n\nPlato does, no doubt, make it a charge against the Sophists that\ntheir doctrines are not only false and immoral, but that they are\nput together without any regard for logical coherence. It would\nseem, however, that this style of attack belongs rather to the later\nand constructive than to the earlier and receptive period of his\nintellectual development. The original cause of his antagonism to the\nprofessional teachers seems to have been their general pretensions to\nknowledge, which, from the standpoint of universal scepticism, were,\nof course, utterly illusive; together with a feeling of aristocratic\ncontempt for a calling in which considerations of pecuniary interest\nwere involved, heightened in this instance by a conviction that the\nbuyer received nothing better than a sham article in exchange for\nhis money. Here, again, a parallel suggests itself with the first\npreaching of the Gospel. The attitude of Christ towards the scribes and\nPharisees, as also that of St. Paul towards Simon Magus, will help us\nto understand how Plato, in another order of spiritual teaching, must\nhave regarded the hypocrisy of wisdom, the intrusion of fraudulent\ntraders into the temple of Delphic inspiration, and the sale of a\npriceless blessing whose unlimited diffusion should have been its own\nand only reward.\n\nYet throughout the philosophy of Plato we meet with a tendency to\nambiguous shiftings and reversions of which, here also, due account\nmust be taken. That curious blending of love and hate which forms the\nsubject of a mystical lyric in Mr. Browning\u2019s _Pippa Passes_, is not\nwithout its counterpart in purely rationalistic discussion. If Plato\nused the Socratic method to dissolve away much that was untrue, because\nincomplete, in Socratism, he used it also to absorb much that was\ndeserving of development in Sophisticism. If, in one sense, the latter\nwas a direct reversal of his master\u2019s teaching, in another it served\nas a sort of intermediary between that teaching and the unenlightened\nconsciousness of mankind. The shadow should not be confounded with the\nsubstance, but it might show by contiguity, by resemblance, and by\ncontrast where the solid reality lay, what were its outlines, and how\nits characteristic lights might best be viewed.\n\nSuch is the mild and conciliatory mode of treatment at first adopted\nby Plato in dealing with the principal representative of the\nSophists\u2014Protagoras. In the Dialogue which bears his name the famous\nhumanist is presented to us as a professor of popular unsystematised\nmorality, proving by a variety of practical arguments and ingenious\nillustrations that virtue can be taught, and that the preservation\nof social order depends upon the possibility of teaching it; but\nunwilling to go along with the reasonings by which Socrates shows the\napplicability of rigorously scientific principles to conduct. Plato\nhas here taken up one side of the Socratic ethics, and developed it\ninto a complete and self-consistent theory. The doctrine inculcated is\nthat form of utilitarianism to which Mr. Sidgwick has given the name of\negoistic hedonism. We are brought to admit that virtue is one because\nthe various virtues reduce themselves in the last analysis to prudence.\nIt is assumed that happiness, in the sense of pleasure and the absence\nof pain, is the sole end of life. Duty is identified with interest.\nMorality is a calculus for computing quantities of pleasure and pain,\nand all virtuous action is a means for securing a maximum of the one\ntogether with a minimum of the other. Ethical science is constituted;\nit can be taught like mathematics; and so far the Sophists are right,\nbut they have arrived at the truth by a purely empirical process;\nwhile Socrates, who professes to know nothing, by simply following the\ndialectic impulse strikes out a generalisation which at once confirms\nand explains their position; yet from self-sufficiency or prejudice\nthey refuse to agree with him in taking their stand on its only logical\nfoundation.\n\nThat Plato put forward the ethical theory of the Protagoras in perfect\ngood faith cannot, we think, be doubted; although in other writings\nhe has repudiated hedonism with contemptuous aversion; and it seems\nequally evident that this was his earliest contribution to positive\nthought. Of all his theories it is the simplest and most Socratic;\nfor Socrates, in endeavouring to reclaim the foolish or vicious,\noften spoke as if self-interest was the paramount principle of human\nnature; although, had his assumption been formulated as an abstract\nproposition, he too might have shrunk from it with something of the\nuneasiness attributed to Protagoras. And from internal evidence of\nanother description we have reason to think that the Dialogue in\nquestion is a comparatively juvenile production, remembering always\nthat the period of youth was much more protracted among the Greeks\nthan among ourselves. One almost seems to recognise the hand of a\nboy just out of college, who delights in drawing caricatures of his\nteachers; and who, while he looks down on classical scholarship in\ncomparison with more living and practical topics, is not sorry to show\nthat he can discuss a difficult passage from Simonides better than the\nprofessors themselves.\n\n\nIII.\n\nOur survey of Plato\u2019s first period is now complete; and we have to\nenter on the far more arduous task of tracing out the circumstances,\nimpulses, and ideas by which all the scattered materials of Greek\nlife, Greek art, and Greek thought were shaped into a new system and\nstamped with the impress of an imperishable genius. At the threshold\nof this second period the personality of Plato himself emerges into\ngreater distinctness, and we have to consider what part it played in\nan evolution where universal tendencies and individual leanings were\ninseparably combined.\n\nPlato was born in the year 429, or according to some accounts 427,\nand died 347 B.C. Few incidents in his biography can be fixed with\nany certainty; but for our purpose the most general facts are also\nthe most interesting, and about these we have tolerably trustworthy\ninformation. His family was one of the noblest in Athens, being\nconnected on the father\u2019s side with Codrus, and on the mother\u2019s with\nSolon; while two of his kinsmen, Critias and Charmides, were among the\nchiefs of the oligarchic party. It is uncertain whether he inherited\nany considerable property, nor is the question one of much importance.\nIt seems clear that he enjoyed the best education Athens could afford,\nand that through life he possessed a competence sufficient to relieve\nhim from the cares of material existence. Possibly the preference\nwhich he expressed, when far advanced in life, for moderate health\nand wealth arose from having experienced those advantages himself.\nIf the busts which bear his name are to be trusted, he was remarkably\nbeautiful, and, like some other philosophers, very careful of his\npersonal appearance. Perhaps some reminiscences of the admiration\nbestowed on himself may be mingled with those pictures of youthful\nloveliness and of its exciting effect on the imaginations of older\nmen which give such grace and animation to his earliest dialogues. We\nknow not whether as lover or beloved he passed unscathed through the\nstorms of passion which he has so powerfully described, nor whether his\napparently intimate acquaintance with them is due to divination or to\nregretful experience. We may pass by in silence whatever is related on\nthis subject, with the certainty that, whether true or not, scandalous\nstories could not fail to be circulated about him.\n\nIt was natural that one who united a great intellect to a glowing\ntemperament should turn his thoughts to poetry. Plato wrote a quantity\nof verses\u2014verse-making had become fashionable just then\u2014but wisely\ncommitted them to the flames on making the acquaintance of Socrates.\nIt may well be doubted whether the author of the _Phaedrus_ and the\n_Symposium_ would ever have attained eminence in metrical composition,\neven had he lived in an age far more favourable to poetic inspiration\nthan that which came after the flowering time of Attic art. It seems\nas if Plato, with all his fervour, fancy, and dramatic skill, lacked\nthe most essential quality of a singer; his finest passages are on a\nlevel with the highest poetry, and yet they are separated from it by a\nchasm more easily felt than described. Aristotle, whom we think of as\nhard and dry and cold, sometimes comes much nearer to the true lyric\ncry. And, as if to mark out Plato\u2019s style still more distinctly from\nevery other, it is also deficient in oratorical power. The philosopher\nevidently thought that he could beat the rhetoricians on their own\nground; if the _Menexenus_ be genuine, he tried to do so and failed;\nand even without its testimony we are entitled to say as much on\nthe strength of shorter attempts. We must even take leave to doubt\nwhether dialogue, properly so called, was Plato\u2019s forte. Where one\nspeaker is placed at such a height above the others as Socrates, or\nthe Eleatic Stranger, or the Athenian in the _Laws_, there cannot be\nany real conversation. The other interlocutors are good listeners,\nand serve to break the monotony of a continuous exposition by their\nexpressions of assent or even by their occasional inability to follow\nthe argument, but give no real help or stimulus. And when allowed to\noffer an opinion of their own, they, too, lapse into a monologue,\naddressed, as our silent trains of thought habitually are, to an\nimaginary auditor whose sympathy and support are necessary but are\nalso secure. Yet if Plato\u2019s style is neither exactly poetical, nor\noratorical, nor conversational, it has affinities with each of these\nthree varieties; it represents the common root from which they spring,\nand brings us, better than any other species of composition, into\nimmediate contact with the mind of the writer. The Platonic Socrates\nhas eyes like those of a portrait which follow us wherever we turn, and\nthrough which we can read his inmost soul, which is no other than the\nuniversal reason of humanity in the delighted surprise of its first\nawakening to self-conscious activity. The poet thinks and feels for us;\nthe orator makes our thoughts and feelings his own, and then restores\nthem to us in a concentrated form, \u2018receiving in vapour what he gives\nback in a flood.\u2019 Plato removes every obstacle to the free development\nof our faculties; he teaches us by his own example how to think and\nto feel for ourselves. If Socrates personified philosophy, Plato has\nreproduced the personification in artistic form with such masterly\neffect that its influence has been extended through all ages and over\nthe whole civilised world. This portrait stands as an intermediary\nbetween its original and the far-reaching effects indirectly due to his\ndialectic inspiration, like that universal soul which Plato himself has\nplaced between the supreme artificer and the material world, that it\nmight bring the fleeting contents of space and time into harmony with\nuncreated and everlasting ideas.\n\nTo paint Socrates at his highest and his best, it was necessary to\nbreak through the narrow limits of his historic individuality, and to\nshow how, had they been presented to him, he would have dealt with\nproblems outside the experience of a home-staying Athenian citizen.\nThe founder of idealism\u2014that is to say, the realisation of reason,\nthe systematic application of thought to life\u2014had succeeded in his\ntask because he had embodied the noblest elements of the Athenian\nD\u00eamos, orderliness, patriotism, self-control, and publicity of debate,\ntogether with a receptive intelligence for improvements effected in\nother states. But, just as the impulse which enabled those qualities to\ntell decisively on Greek history at a moment of inestimable importance\ncame from the Athenian aristocracy, with its Dorian sympathies, its\nadventurous ambition, and its keen attention to foreign affairs, so\nalso did Plato, carrying the same spirit into philosophy, bring the\ndialectic method into contact with older and broader currents of\nspeculation, and employ it to recognise the whole spiritual activity of\nhis race.\n\nA strong desire for reform must always be preceded by a deep\ndissatisfaction with things as they are; and if the reform is to be\nvery sweeping the discontent must be equally comprehensive. Hence the\ngreat renovators of human life have been remarkable for the severity\nwith which they have denounced the failings of the world where they\nwere placed, whether as regards persons, habits, institutions, or\nbeliefs. Yet to speak of their attitude as pessimistic would either\nbe unfair, or would betray an unpardonable inability to discriminate\nbetween two utterly different theories of existence. Nothing can well\nbe more unlike the systematised pusillanimity of those lost souls,\nwithout courage and without hope, who find a consolation for their own\nfailure in the belief that everything is a failure, than the fiery\nenergy which is drawn into a perpetual tension by the contrast of what\nis with the vision of what yet may be. But if pessimism paralyses\nevery generous effort and aspiration by teaching that misery is the\nirremediable lot of animated beings, or even, in the last analysis,\nof all being, the opposing theory of optimism exercises as deadly an\ninfluence when it induces men to believe that their present condition\nis, on the whole, a satisfactory one, or that at worst wrong will be\nrighted without any criticism or interference on their part. Even\nthose who believe progress to have been, so far, the most certain\nfact in human history, cannot blind themselves to the existence of\nenormous forces ever tending to draw society back into the barbarism\nand brutality of its primitive condition; and they know also, that\nwhatever ground we have won is due to the efforts of a small minority,\nwho were never weary of urging forward their more sluggish companions,\nwithout caring what angry susceptibilities they might arouse\u2014risking\nrecrimination, insult, and outrage, so that only, under whatever form,\nwhether of divine mandate or of scientific demonstration, the message\nof humanity to her children might be delivered in time. Nor is it only\nwith immobility that they have had to contend. Gains in one direction\nare frequently balanced by losses in another; while at certain periods\nthere is a distinct retrogression along the whole line. And it is well\nif, amid the general decline to a lower level, sinister voices are not\nheard proclaiming that the multitude may safely trust to their own\npromptings, and that self-indulgence or self-will should be the only\nlaw of life. It is also on such occasions that the rallying cry is\nmost needed, and that the born leaders of civilisation must put forth\ntheir most strenuous efforts to arrest the disheartened fugitives and\nto denounce the treacherous guides. It was in this aspect that Plato\nviewed his age; and he set himself to continue the task which Socrates\nhad attempted, but had been trampled down in endeavouring to achieve.\n\nThe illustrious Italian poet and essayist, Leopardi, has observed\nthat the idea of the world as a vast confederacy banded together for\nthe repression of everything good and great and true, originated with\nJesus Christ.[122] It is surprising that so accomplished a Hellenist\nshould not have attributed the priority to Plato. It is true that\nhe does not speak of the world itself in Leopardi\u2019s sense, because\nto him it meant something different\u2014a divinely created order which\nit would have been blasphemy to revile; but the thing is everywhere\npresent to his thoughts under other names, and he pursues it with\nrelentless hostility. He looks on the great majority of the human race,\nindividually and socially, in their beliefs and in their practices,\nas utterly corrupt, and blinded to such an extent that they are ready\nto turn and rend any one who attempts to lead them into a better\npath. The many \u2018know not wisdom and virtue, and are always busy with\ngluttony and sensuality. Like cattle, with their eyes always looking\ndown and their heads stooping, not, indeed, to the earth, but to the\ndining-table, they fatten and feed and breed, and in their excessive\nlove of these delights they kick and butt at one another with horns and\nhoofs which are made of iron; and they kill one another by reason of\ntheir insatiable lust.\u2019[123] Their ideal is the man who nurses up his\ndesires to the utmost intensity, and procures the means for gratifying\nthem by fraud or violence. The assembled multitude resembles a strong\nand fierce brute expressing its wishes by inarticulate grunts, which\nthe popular leaders make it their business to understand and to comply\nwith.[J] A statesman of the nobler kind who should attempt to benefit\nthe people by thwarting their foolish appetites will be denounced as\na public enemy by the demagogues, and will stand no more chance of\nacquittal than a physician if he were brought before a jury of children\nby the pastry-cook.\n\nThat an Athenian, or, indeed, any Greek gentleman, should regard\nthe common people with contempt and aversion was nothing strange.\nA generation earlier such feelings would have led Plato to look on\nthe overthrow of democracy and the establishment of an aristocratic\ngovernment as the remedy for every evil. The upper classes, accustomed\nto decorate themselves with complimentary titles, had actually come\nto believe that all who belonged to them were paragons of wisdom and\ngoodness. With the rule of the Thirty came a terrible awakening. In\na few months more atrocities were perpetrated by the oligarchs than\nthe D\u00eamos had been guilty of in as many generations. It was shown\nthat accomplished gentlemen like Critias were only distinguished from\nthe common herd by their greater impatience of opposition and by the\nmore destructive fury of their appetites. With Plato, at least, all\nallusions on this head came to an end. He now \u2018smiled at the claims\nof long descent,\u2019 considering that \u2018every man has had thousands and\nthousands of progenitors, and among them have been rich and poor, kings\nand slaves, Hellenes and barbarians, many times over;\u2019 and even the\npossession of a large landed property ceased to inspire him with any\nrespect when he compared it with the surface of the whole earth.[K]\n\nThere still remained one form of government to be tried, the despotic\nrule of a single individual. In the course of his travels Plato came\ninto contact with an able and powerful specimen of the tyrant class,\nthe elder Dionysius. A number of stories relating to their intercourse\nhave been preserved; but the different versions disagree very widely,\nand none of them can be entirely trusted. It seems certain, however,\nthat Plato gave great offence to the tyrant by his freedom of speech,\nthat he narrowly escaped death, and that he was sold into slavery,\nfrom which condition he was redeemed by the generosity of Anniceris, a\nCyrenaean philosopher. It is supposed that the scathing description in\nwhich Plato has held up to everlasting infamy the unworthy possessor\nof absolute power\u2014a description long afterwards applied by Tacitus to\nthe vilest of the Roman emperors\u2014was suggested by the type which had\ncome under his own observation in Sicily.\n\nOf all existing constitutions that of Sparta approached nearest to the\nideal of Plato, or, rather, he regarded it as the least degraded. He\nliked the conservatism of the Spartans, their rigid discipline, their\nhaughty courage, the participation of their daughters in gymnastic\nexercises, the austerity of their manners, and their respect for old\nage; but he found much to censure both in their ancient customs and\nin the characteristics which the possession of empire had recently\ndeveloped among them. He speaks with disapproval of their exclusively\nmilitary organisation, of their contempt for philosophy, and of\nthe open sanction which they gave to practices barely tolerated at\nAthens. And he also comments on their covetousness, their harshness\nto inferiors, and their haste to throw off the restraints of the law\nwhenever detection could be evaded.[124]\n\nSo far we have spoken as if Plato regarded the various false polities\nexisting around him as so many fixed and disconnected types. This,\nhowever, was not the case. The present state of things was bad enough,\nbut it threatened to become worse wherever worse was possible. The\nconstitutions exhibiting a mixture of good and evil contained within\nthemselves the seeds of a further corruption, and tended to pass\ninto the form standing next in order on the downward slope. Spartan\ntimocracy must in time become an oligarchy, to oligarchy would succeed\ndemocracy, and this would end in tyranny, beyond which no further fall\nwas possible.[125] The degraded condition of Syracuse seemed likely\nto be the last outcome of Hellenic civilisation. We know not how far\nthe gloomy forebodings of Plato may have been justified by his own\nexperience, but he sketched with prophetic insight the future fortunes\nof the Roman Republic. Every phase of the progressive degeneration is\nexemplified in its later history, and the order of their succession is\nmost faithfully preserved. Even his portraits of individual timocrats,\noligarchs, demagogues, and despots are reproduced to the life in the\npages of Plutarch, of Cicero, and of Tacitus.\n\nIf our critic found so little to admire in Hellas, still less did he\nseek for the realisation of his dreams in the outlying world. The\nlessons of Protagoras had not been wasted on him, and, unlike the\nnature-worshippers of the eighteenth century, he never fell into the\ndelusion that wisdom and virtue had their home in primaeval forests or\nin corrupt Oriental despotisms. For him, Greek civilisation, with all\nits faults, was the best thing that human nature had produced, the only\nhearth of intellectual culture, the only soil where new experiments\nin education and government could be tried. He could go down to the\nroots of thought, of language, and of society; he could construct a new\nstyle, a new system, and a new polity, from the foundation up; he could\ngrasp all the tendencies that came under his immediate observation, and\nfollow them out to their utmost possibilities of expansion; but his\nvast powers of analysis and generalisation remained subject to this\nrestriction, that a Hellene he was and a Hellene he remained to the end.\n\nA Hellene, and an aristocrat as well. Or, using the word in its most\ncomprehensive sense, we may say that he was an aristocrat all round,\na believer in inherent superiorities of race, sex, birth, breeding,\nand age. Everywhere we find him restlessly searching after the wisest,\npurest, best, until at last, passing beyond the limits of existence\nitself, words fail him to describe the absolute ineffable only good,\nnot being and not knowledge, but creating and inspiring both. Thus it\ncame to pass that his hopes of effecting a thorough reform did not\nlie in an appeal to the masses, but in the selection and seclusion\nfrom evil influences of a few intelligent youths. Here we may detect\na remarkable divergence between him and his master. Socrates, himself\na man of the people, did not like to hear the Athenians abused. If\nthey went wrong, it was, he said, the fault of their leaders.[126] But\naccording to Plato, it was from the people themselves that corruption\noriginally proceeded, it was they who instilled false lessons into the\nmost intelligent minds, teaching them from their very infancy to prefer\nshow to substance, success to merit, and pleasure to virtue; making\nthe study of popular caprice the sure road to power, and poisoning\nthe very sources of morality by circulating blasphemous stories about\nthe gods\u2014stories which represented them as weak, sensual, capricious\nbeings, setting an example of iniquity themselves, and quite willing to\npardon it in men on condition of going shares in the spoil. The poets\nhad a great deal to do with the manufacture of these discreditable\nmyths; and towards poets as a class Plato entertained feelings of\nmingled admiration and contempt. As an artist, he was powerfully\nattracted by the beauty of their works; as a theologian, he believed\nthem to be the channels of divine inspiration, and sometimes also the\nguardians of a sacred tradition; but as a critic, he was shocked at\ntheir incapacity to explain the meaning of their own works, especially\nwhen it was coupled with ridiculous pretensions to omniscience; and he\nregarded the imitative character of their productions as illustrating,\nin a particularly flagrant manner, that substitution of appearance for\nreality which, according to his philosophy, was the deepest source of\nerror and evil.\n\nIf private society exercised a demoralising influence on its most\ngifted members, and in turn suffered a still further debasement by\nlistening to their opinions, the same fatal interchange of corruption\nwent on still more actively in public life, so far, at least, as\nAthenian democracy was concerned. The people would tolerate no\nstatesman who did not pamper their appetites; and the statesmen, for\ntheir own ambitious purposes, attended solely to the material wants\nof the people, entirely neglecting their spiritual interests. In this\nrespect, Pericles, the most admired of all, had been the chief of\nsinners; for \u2018he was the first who gave the people pay and made them\nidle and cowardly, and encouraged them in the love of talk and of\nmoney.\u2019 Accordingly, a righteous retribution overtook him, for \u2018at the\nvery end of his life they convicted him of theft, and almost put him\nto death.\u2019 So it had been with the other boasted leaders, Miltiades,\nThemistocles, and Cimon; all suffered from what is falsely called the\ningratitude of the people. Like injudicious keepers, they had made the\nanimal committed to their charge fiercer instead of gentler, until\nits savage propensities were turned against themselves. Or, changing\nthe comparison, they were like purveyors of luxury, who fed the State\non a diet to which its present \u2018ulcerated and swollen condition\u2019\nwas due. They had \u2018filled the city full of harbours, and docks, and\nwalls, and revenues and all that, and had left no room for justice\nand temperance.\u2019 One only among the elder statesmen, Aristeides, is\nexcepted from this sweeping condemnation, and, similarly, Socrates is\ndeclared to have been the only true statesman of his time.[127]\n\nOn turning from the conduct of State affairs to the administration of\njustice in the popular law courts, we find the same tale of iniquity\nrepeated, but this time with more telling satire, as Plato is speaking\nfrom his own immediate experience. He considers that, under the\nmanipulation of dexterous pleaders, judicial decisions had come to be\nframed with a total disregard of righteousness. That disputed claims\nshould be submitted to a popular tribunal and settled by counting\nheads was, indeed, according to his view, a virtual admission that no\nabsolute standard of justice existed; that moral truth varied with\nindividual opinion. And this is how the character of the lawyer had\nbeen moulded in consequence:\u2014\n\n He has become keen and shrewd; he has learned how to flatter his\n master in word and indulge him in deed; but his soul is small and\n unrighteous. His slavish condition has deprived him of growth and\n uprightness and independence; dangers and fears which were too much\n for his truth and honesty came upon him in early years, when the\n tenderness of youth was unequal to them, and he has been driven\n into crooked ways; from the first he has practised deception and\n retaliation, and has become stunted and warped. And so he has passed\n out of youth into manhood, having no soundness in him, and is now, as\n he thinks, a master in wisdom.[128]\n\nTo make matters worse, the original of this unflattering portrait\nwas rapidly becoming the most powerful man in the State. Increasing\nspecialisation had completely separated the military and political\nfunctions which had formerly been discharged by a single eminent\nindividual, and the business of legislation was also becoming a\ndistinct profession. No orator could obtain a hearing in the assembly\nwho had not a technical acquaintance with the subject of deliberation,\nif it admitted of technical treatment, which was much more frequently\nthe case now than in the preceding generation. As a consequence of this\nrevolution, the ultimate power of supervision and control was passing\ninto the hands of the law courts, where general questions could be\ndiscussed in a more popular style, and often from a wider or a more\nsentimental point of view. They were, in fact, beginning to wield an\nauthority like that exercised until quite lately by the press in modern\nEurope, only that its action was much more direct and formidable. A\nvote of the Eccl\u00easia could only deprive a statesman of office: a vote\nof the Dicastery might deprive him of civil rights, home, freedom,\nproperty, or even life itself. Moreover, with the loss of empire and\nthe decline of public spirit, private interests had come to attract a\nproportionately larger share of attention; and unobtrusive citizens\nwho had formerly escaped from the storms of party passion, now found\nthemselves marked out as a prey by every fluent and dexterous pleader\nwho could find an excuse for dragging them before the courts. Rhetoric\nwas hailed as the supreme art, enabling its possessor to dispense with\nevery other study, and promising young men were encouraged to look on\nit as the most paying line they could take up. Even those whose civil\nstatus or natural timidity precluded them from speaking in public could\ngain an eminent and envied position by composing speeches for others to\ndeliver. Behind these, again, stood the professed masters of rhetoric,\nclaiming to direct the education and the whole public opinion of the\nage by their lectures and pamphlets. Philosophy was not excluded from\ntheir system of training, but it occupied a strictly subordinate place.\nStudied in moderation, they looked on it as a bracing mental exercise\nand a repertory of sounding commonplaces, if not as a solvent for\nold-fashioned notions of honesty; but a close adherence to the laws of\nlogic or to the principles of morality seemed puerile pedantry to the\nelegant stylists who made themselves the advocates of every crowned\nfilibuster abroad, while preaching a policy of peace at any price at\nhome.\n\nIt is evident that the fate of Socrates was constantly in Plato\u2019s\nthoughts, and greatly embittered his scorn for the multitude as\nwell as for those who made themselves its ministers and minions. It\nso happened that his friend\u2019s three accusers had been respectively\na poet, a statesman, and a rhetor; thus aptly typifying to the\nphilosopher\u2019s lively imagination the triad of charlatans in whom\npublic opinion found its appropriate representatives and spokesmen.\nYet Plato ought consistently to have held that the condemnation of\nSocrates was, equally with the persecution of Pericles, a satire\non the teaching which, after at least thirty years\u2019 exercise, had\nleft its auditors more corrupt than it found them. In like manner\nthe ostracism of Aristeides might be set against similar sentences\npassed on less puritanical statesmen. For the purpose of the argument\nit would have been sufficient to show that in existing circumstances\nthe office of public adviser was both thankless and dangerous. We\nmust always remember that when Plato is speaking of past times he is\nprofoundly influenced by aristocratic traditions, and also that under a\nretrospective disguise he is really attacking contemporary abuses. And\nif, even then, his denunciations seem excessive, their justification\nmay be found in that continued decay of public virtue which, not\nlong afterwards, brought about the final catastrophe of Athenian\nindependence.\n\n\nIV.\n\nTo illustrate the relation in which Plato stood towards his own times,\nwe have already had occasion to draw largely on the productions of\nhis maturer manhood. We have now to take up the broken thread of our\nsystematic exposition, and to trace the development of his philosophy\nthrough that wonderful series of compositions which entitle him to\nrank among the greatest writers, the most comprehensive thinkers, and\nthe purest religious teachers of all ages. In the presence of such\nglory a mere divergence of opinion must not be permitted to influence\nour judgment. High above all particular truths stands the principle\nthat truth itself exists, and it was for this that Plato fought. If\nthere were others more completely emancipated from superstition, none\nso persistently appealed to the logic before which superstition must\nultimately vanish. If his schemes for the reconstruction of society\nignore many obvious facts, they assert with unrivalled force the\nnecessary supremacy of public welfare over private pleasure; and their\navowed utilitarianism offers a common ground to the rival reformers\nwho will have nothing to do with the mysticism of their metaphysical\nfoundation. Those, again, who hold, like the youthful Plato himself,\nthat the ultimate interpretation of existence belongs to a science\ntranscending human reason, will here find the doctrines of their\nreligion anticipated as in a dream. And even those who, standing aloof\nboth from theology and philosophy, live, as they imagine, for beauty\nalone, will observe with interest how the spirit of Greek art survived\nin the denunciation of its idolatry, and \u2018the light that never was\non sea or land,\u2019 after fading away from the lower levels of Athenian\nfancy, came once more to suffuse the frozen steeps of dialectic with\nits latest and divinest rays.\n\nThe glowing enthusiasm of Plato is, however, not entirely derived from\nthe poetic traditions of his native city; or perhaps we should rather\nsay that he and the great writers who preceded him drew from a common\nfount of inspiration. Mr. Emerson, in one of the most penetrating\ncriticisms ever written on our philosopher,[129] has pointed out the\nexistence of two distinct elements in the Platonic Dialogues\u2014one\ndispersive, practical, prosaic; the other mystical, absorbing,\ncentripetal. The American scholar is, however, as we think, quite\nmistaken when he attributes the second of these tendencies to Asiatic\ninfluence. It is extremely doubtful whether Plato ever travelled\nfarther east than Egypt; it is probable that his stay in that country\nwas not of long duration; and it is certain that he did not acquire a\nsingle metaphysical idea from its inhabitants. He liked their rigid\nconservatism; he liked their institution of a dominant priesthood; he\nliked their system of popular education, and the place which it gave\nto mathematics made him look with shame on the \u2018swinish ignorance\u2019 of\nhis own countrymen in that respect;[130] but on the whole he classes\nthem among the races exclusively devoted to money-making, and in\naptitude for philosophy he places them far below the Greeks. Very\ndifferent were the impressions brought home from his visits to Sicily\nand Southern Italy. There he became acquainted with modes of thought\nin which the search after hidden resemblances and analogies was a\npredominant passion; there the existence of a central unity underlying\nall phenomena was maintained, as against sense and common opinion,\nwith the intensity of a religious creed; there alone speculation was\nclothed in poetic language; there first had an attempt been made to\ncarry thought into life by associating it with a reform of manners and\nbeliefs. There, too, the arts of dance and song had assumed a more\norderly and solemn aspect; the chorus received its final constitution\nfrom a Sicilian master; and the loftiest strains of Greek lyric poetry\nwere composed for recitation in the streets of Sicilian cities or at\nthe courts of Sicilian kings. Then, with the rise of rhetoric, Greek\nprose was elaborated by Sicilian teachers into a sort of rhythmical\ncomposition, combining rich imagery with studied harmonies and\ncontrasts of sense and sound. And as the hold of Asiatic civilisation\non eastern Hellas grew weaker, the attention of her foremost spirits\nwas more and more attracted to this new region of wonder and romance.\nThe stream of colonisation set thither in a steady flow; the scenes\nof mythical adventure were rediscovered in Western waters; and it was\nimagined that, by grasping the resources of Sicily, an empire extending\nover the whole Mediterranean might be won. Perhaps, without being\ntoo fanciful, we may trace a likeness between the daring schemes of\nAlcibiades and the more remote but not more visionary kingdom suggested\nby an analogous inspiration to the idealising soul of Plato. Each had\nlearned to practise, although for far different purposes, the royal art\nof Socrates\u2014the mastery over men\u2019s minds acquired by a close study of\ntheir interests, passions, and beliefs. But the ambition of the one\ndefeated his own aim, to the destruction of his country and of himself;\nwhile the other drew into Athenian thought whatever of Western force\nand fervour was needed for the accomplishment of its imperial task.\nWe may say of Plato what he has said of his own Theaet\u00eatus, that \u2018he\nmoves surely and smoothly and successfully in the path of knowledge\nand inquiry; always making progress like the noiseless flow of a river\nof oil\u2019;[131] but everywhere beside or beneath that placid lubricating\nflow we may trace the action of another current, where still sparkles,\nfresh and clear as at first, the fiery Sicilian wine.\n\nIt will be remembered that in an earlier section of this chapter we\naccompanied Plato to a period when he had provisionally adopted a\ntheory in which the Protagorean contention that virtue can be taught\nwas confirmed and explained by the Socratic contention that virtue is\nknowledge; while this knowledge again was interpreted in the sense of\na hedonistic calculus, a prevision and comparison of the pleasures and\npains consequent on our actions. We have now to trace the lines of\nthought by which he was guided to a different conception of ethical\nscience.\n\nAfter resolving virtue into knowledge of pleasure, the next questions\nwhich would present themselves to so keen a thinker were obviously,\nWhat is knowledge? and What is pleasure? The _Theaet\u00eatus_ is chiefly\noccupied with a discussion of the various answers already given to\nthe first of these enquiries. It seems, therefore, to come naturally\nnext after the _Protagoras_; and our conjecture receives a further\nconfirmation when we find that here also a large place is given to\nthe opinions of the Sophist after whom that dialogue is named; the\nchief difference being that the points selected for controversy are\nof a speculative rather than of a practical character. There is,\nhowever, a close connexion between the argument by which Protagoras\nhad endeavoured to prove that all mankind are teachers of virtue, and\nhis more general principle that man is the measure of all things. And\nperhaps it was the more obvious difficulties attending the latter view\nwhich led Plato, after some hesitation, to reject the former along\nwith it. In an earlier chapter we gave some reasons for believing\nthat Protagoras did not erect every individual into an arbiter of\ntruth in the sweeping sense afterwards put upon his words. He was\nprobably opposing a human to a theological or a naturalistic standard.\nNevertheless, it does not follow that Plato was fighting with a\nshadow when he pressed the Protagorean dictum to its most literal\ninterpretation. There are plenty of people still who would maintain\nit to that extent. Wherever and whenever the authority of ancient\ntraditions is broken down, the doctrine that one man\u2019s opinion is as\ngood as another\u2019s immediately takes its place; or rather the doctrine\nin question is a survival of traditionalism in an extremely pulverised\nform. And when we are told that the majority must be right\u2014which is\na very different principle from holding that the majority should be\nobeyed\u2014we may take it as a sign that the loose particles are beginning\nto coalesce again. The substitution of an individual for a universal\nstandard of truth is, according to Plato, a direct consequence of\nthe theory which identifies knowledge with sense-perception. It is,\nat any rate, certain that the most vehement assertors of the former\ndoctrine are also those who are fondest of appealing to what they and\ntheir friends have seen, heard, or felt; and the more educated among\nthem place enormous confidence in statistics. They are also fond of\nrepeating the adage that an ounce of fact is worth a ton of theory,\nwithout considering that theory alone can furnish the balance in which\nfacts are weighed. Plato does not go very deep into the _rationale_ of\nobservation, nor in the infancy of exact science was it to be expected\nthat he should. He fully recognised the presence of two factors, an\nobjective and a subjective, in every sensation, but lost his hold on\nthe true method in attempting to trace a like dualism through the\nwhole of consciousness. Where we should distinguish between the mental\nenergies and the physical processes underlying them, or between the\nelements respectively contributed to every cognition by immediate\nexperience and reflection, he conceived the inner and outer worlds as\ntwo analogous series related to one another as an image to its original.\n\nAt this last point we touch on the final generalisation by which Plato\nextended the dialectic method to all existence, and readmitted into\nphilosophy the earlier speculations provisionally excluded from it\nby Socrates. The cross-examining elenchus, at first applied only to\nindividuals, had been turned with destructive effect on every class,\nevery institution, and every polity, until the whole of human life\nwas made to appear one mass of self-contradiction, instability, and\nillusion. It had been held by some that the order of nature offered\na contrast and a correction to this bewildering chaos. Plato, on the\nother hand, sought to show that the ignorance and evil prevalent among\nmen were only a part of the imperfection necessarily belonging to\nderivative existence of every kind. For this purpose the philosophy\nof Heracleitus proved a welcome auxiliary. The pupil of Socrates had\nbeen taught in early youth by Cratylus, an adherent of the Ephesian\nschool, that movement, relativity, and the conjunction of opposites\nare the very conditions under which Nature works. We may conjecture\nthat Plato did not at first detect any resemblance between the\nHeracleitean flux and the mental bewilderment produced or brought to\nlight by the master of cross-examination. But his visit to Italy would\nprobably enable him to take a new view of the Ionian speculations,\nby bringing him into contact with schools maintaining a directly\nopposite doctrine. The Eleatics held that existence remained eternally\nundivided, unmoved, and unchanged. The Pythagoreans arranged all\nthings according to a strained and rigid antithetical construction.\nThen came the identifying flash.[132] Unchangeable reality, divine\norder, mathematical truth\u2014these were the objective counterpart of\nthe Socratic definitions, of the consistency which Socrates introduced\ninto conduct. The Heracleitean system applied to phenomena only; and\nit faithfully reflected the incoherent beliefs and disorderly actions\nof uneducated men. We are brought into relation with the fluctuating\nsea of generated and perishing natures by sense and opinion, and these\nreproduce, in their irreconcilable diversity, the shifting character of\nthe objects with which they are conversant. Whatever we see and feel\nis a mixture of being and unreality; it is, and is not, at the same\ntime. Sensible magnitudes are equal or greater or less according as the\nstandard of comparison is chosen. Yet the very act of comparison shows\nthat there is something in ourselves deeper than mere sense; something\nto which all individual sensations are referred as to a common centre,\nand in which their images are stored up. Knowledge, then, can no\nlonger be identified with sensation, since the mental reproductions of\nexternal objects are apprehended in the absence of their originals, and\nsince thought possesses the further faculty of framing abstract notions\nnot representing any sensible objects at all.\n\nWe need not follow Plato\u2019s investigations into the meaning of knowledge\nand the causes of illusion any further; especially as they do not lead,\nin this instance, to any positive conclusion. The general tendency is\nto seek for truth within rather than without; and to connect error\npartly with the disturbing influence of sense-impressions on the higher\nmental faculties, partly with the inherent confusion and instability\nof the phenomena whence those impressions are derived. Our principal\nconcern here is to note the expansive power of generalisation which\nwas carrying philosophy back again from man to Nature\u2014the deep-seated\ncontempt of Plato for public opinion\u2014and the incipient differentiation\nof demonstrated from empirical truth.\n\nA somewhat similar vein of reflection is worked out in the _Cratylus_,\na Dialogue presenting some important points of contact with the\n_Theaet\u00eatus_, and probably belonging to the same period. There is the\nsame constant reference to Heracleitus, whose philosophy is here also\ntreated as in great measure, but not entirely, true; and the opposing\nsystem of Parmenides is again mentioned, though much more briefly, as\na valuable set-off against its extravagances. The _Cratylus_ deals\nexclusively with language, just as the _Theaet\u00eatus_ had dealt with\nsensation and mental imagery, but in such a playful and ironical tone\nthat its speculative importance is likely to be overlooked. Some of the\nGreek philosophers seem to have thought that the study of things might\nadvantageously be replaced by the study of words, which were supposed\nto have a natural and necessary connexion with their accepted meanings.\nThis view was particularly favoured by the Heracleiteans, who found,\nor fancied that they found, a confirmation of their master\u2019s teaching\nin etymology. Plato professes to adopt the theory in question, and\nsupports it with a number of derivations which to us seem ludicrously\nabsurd, but which may possibly have been transcribed from the pages\nof contemporary philologists. At last, however, he turns round and\nshows that other verbal arguments, equally good, might be adduced on\nbehalf of Parmenides. But the most valuable part of the discussion is\na protest against the whole theory that things can be studied through\ntheir names. Plato justly observes that an image, to be perfect,\nshould not reproduce its original, but only certain aspects of it;\nthat the framers of language were not infallible; and that we are just\nas competent to discover the nature of things as they could be. One\ncan imagine the delight with which he would have welcomed the modern\ndiscovery that sensations, too, are a language; and that the associated\ngroups into which they most readily gather are determined less by the\nnecessary connexions of things in themselves than by the exigencies of\nself-preservation and reproduction in sentient beings.\n\nThrough all his criticisms on the popular sources of\ninformation\u2014sense, language and public opinion\u2014Plato refers to an\nideal of perfect knowledge which he assumes without being able to\ndefine it. It must satisfy the negative condition of being free from\nself-contradiction, but further than this we cannot go. Yet, in the\nhands of a metaphysician, no more than this was required to reconstruct\nthe world. The demand for consistency explains the practical philosophy\nof Socrates. It also explains, under another form, the philosophy,\nboth practical and speculative, of his disciple. Identity and the\ncorrelative of identity, difference, gradually came to cover with their\nmanifold combinations all knowledge, all life, and all existence.\n\nIt was from mathematical science that the light of certainty first\nbroke. Socrates had not encouraged the study of mathematics, either\npure or applied; nor, if we may judge from some disparaging allusions\nto Hippias and his lectures in the _Protagoras_, did Plato at first\nregard it with any particular favour. He may have acquired some notions\nof arithmetic and geometry at school; but the intimate acquaintance\nwith, and deep interest in them, manifested throughout his later works,\nprobably dates from his visits to Italy, Sicily, Cyr\u00ean\u00ea, and Egypt.\nIn each of these places the exact sciences were cultivated with more\nassiduity than at Athens; in southern Italy they had been brought into\nclose connexion with philosophy by a system of mystical interpretation.\nThe glory of discovering their true speculative significance was\nreserved for Plato. Just as he had detected a profound analogy between\nthe Socratic scepticism and the Heracleitean flux, so also, by\nanother vivid intuition, he saw in the definitions and demonstrations\nof geometry a type of true reasoning, a particular application of\nthe Socratic logic. Thus the two studies were brought into fruitful\nreaction, the one gaining a wider applicability, and the other an\nexacter method of proof. The mathematical spirit ultimately proved\ntoo strong for Plato, and petrified his philosophy into a lifeless\nformalism; but no extraneous influence helped so much to bring about\nthe complete maturity of his constructive powers, in no direction has\nhe more profoundly influenced the thought of later ages.\n\nBoth the _Theaet\u00eatus_ and the _Cratylus_ contain allusions to\nmathematical reasoning, but its full significance is first exhibited\nin the _Meno_. Here the old question, whether virtue can be taught,\nis again raised, to be discussed from an entirely new point of view,\nand resolved into the more general question, Can anything be taught?\nThe answer is, Yes and No. You may stimulate the native activity of\nthe intellect, but you cannot create it. Take a totally uneducated\nman, and, under proper guidance, he shall discover the truths of\ngeometry for himself, by virtue of their self-evident clearness. Being\nindependent of any traceable experience, the elementary principles of\nthis science, of all science, must have been acquired in some antenatal\nperiod, or rather they were never acquired at all, they belong to the\nvery nature of the soul herself. The doctrine here unfolded had a\ngreat future before it; and it has never, perhaps, been discussed with\nso much eagerness as during the last half-century among ourselves.\nThe masters of English thought have placed the issue first raised by\nPlato in the very front of philosophical controversy; and the general\npublic have been brought to feel that their dearest interests hang on\nits decision. The subject has, however, lost much of its adventitious\ninterest to those who know that the _\u00e0 priori_ position was turned, a\nhundred years ago, by Kant. The philosopher of K\u00f6nigsberg showed that,\ngranting knowledge to be composed of two elements, mind adds nothing\nto outward experience but its own forms, the system of connexions\naccording to which it groups phenomena. Deprive these forms of the\ncontent given to them by feeling, and the soul will be left beating her\nwings in a vacuum. The doctrine that knowledge is not a dead deposit\nin consciousness or memory, but a living energy whereby phenomena\nare, to use Kant\u2019s words, gathered up into the synthetic unity of\napperception, has since found a physiological basis in the theory of\ncentral innervation. And the experiential school of psychology have\nsimultaneously come to recognise the existence of fixed conditions\nunder which consciousness works and grows, and which, in the last\nanalysis, resolve themselves into the apprehension of resemblance,\ndifference, coexistence, and succession. The most complex cognition\ninvolves no more than these four categories; and it is probable that\nthey all co-operate in the most elementary perception.\n\nThe truths here touched on seem to have been dimly present to the mind\nof Plato. He never doubts that all knowledge must, in some way or\nother, be derived from experience; and, accordingly, he assumes that\nwhat cannot have been learned in this world was learned in another. But\nhe does not (in the _Meno_ at least) suppose that the process ever had\na beginning. It would seem that he is trying to express in figurative\nlanguage the distinction, lost almost as soon as found, between\nintelligence and the facts on which intelligence is exercised, An\nexamination of the steps by which Meno\u2019s slave is brought to perceive,\nwithout being directly told, the truth of the Pythagorean theorem, will\nshow that his share in the demonstration is limited to the intuition\nof certain numerical equalities and inequalities. Now, to Plato, the\nperception of sameness and difference meant everything. He would have\ndenied that the sensible world presented examples of these relations in\ntheir ideal absoluteness and purity. In tracing back their apprehension\nto the self-reflection of the soul, the consciousness of personal\nidentity, he would not have transgressed the limits of a legitimate\nenquiry. But self-consciousness involved a possible abstraction from\ndisturbing influences, which he interpreted as a real separation\nbetween mind and matter; and, to make it more complete, an independent\npre-existence of the former. Nor was this all. Since knowledge is of\nlikeness in difference, then the central truth of things, the reality\nunderlying all appearance, must be an abiding identity recognised by\nthe soul through her previous communion with it in a purer world. The\ninevitable tendency of two identities, one subjective and the other\nobjective, was to coalesce in an absolute unity where all distinctions\nof time and space would have disappeared, carrying the whole mythical\nmachinery along with them; and Plato\u2019s logic is always hovering on\nthe verge of such a consummation without being able fully to accept\nit. Still, the mystical tendency, which it was reserved for Plotinus\nto carry out in its entirety, is always present, though restrained by\nother motives, working for the ascertainment of uniformity in theory\nand for the enforcement of uniformity in practice.\n\nWe have accompanied Plato to a point where he begins to see his\nway towards a radical reconstruction of all existing beliefs and\ninstitutions. In the next chapter we shall attempt to show how\nfar he succeeded in this great purpose, how much, in his positive\ncontributions to thought is of permanent, and how much of merely\nbiographical or literary value.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[114] _The Dialogues of Plato translated into English._ By B. Jowett,\nM. A. 2nd ed., 1875. Zeller, _Die Philosophie der Griechen_. Zweiter\nTheil, erste Abtheilung. _Plato und die alte Academie_, 3rd ed., 1875.\n\n[115] Krohn, _Der Platonische Staat_, Halle 1876. [I know this work\nonly through Chiapelli, _Della Interpretazione panteistica di Platone_,\nFlorence, 1881.]\n\n[116] III., 418.\n\n[117] _Phaedr._, p. 274 B ff.\n\n[118] See Zeller\u2019s note on the \u03b8\u03b5\u03af\u03b1 \u03bc\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c1\u03b1, _op. cit._ p. 497.\n\n[119] The _Charmides_, _Laches_, _Euthyphro_, and _Lysis_.\n\n[120] P. 49, A ff. Zeller, 142.\n\n[121] _Charmides_, 161 E; _Lysis_, 212 C.\n\n[122] _Pensieri_, lxxxiv and lxxxv.\n\n[123] _Repub._, 586, A. Jowett, III, p. 481.\n\n[124] Zeller, _op. cit._, 777-8.\n\n[125] _Repub._, VIII. and IX.\n\n[126] Xenophon, _Mem._, III., v., 18.\n\n[127] _Gorgias_, 515, C., ff. Jowett, II., 396-400.\n\n[128] _Theaet\u00eatus_, 173, A. Jowett, IV., 322.\n\n[129] The lecture on Plato in _Representative Man_.\n\n[130] _Legg._ 819, D. Jowett, V., 390.\n\n[131] _Theaet._, 144. Jowett\u2019s Transl.\n\n[132] This expression is borrowed from Prof. Bain. See the chapter on\nAssociation by Resemblance in _The Senses and the Intellect_.\n\n[133] _Legg._ 716, C.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nPLATO AS A REFORMER.\n\n\nI.\n\nIn the last chapter we considered the philosophy of Plato chiefly\nunder its critical and negative aspects. We saw how it was exclusively\nfrom that side that he at first apprehended and enlarged the dialectic\nof Socrates, how deeply his scepticism was coloured by the religious\nreaction of the age, and how he attempted, out of his master\u2019s mouth,\nto overturn the positive teaching of the master himself. We saw how,\nin the _Protagoras_, he sketched a theory of ethics, which was no\nsooner completed than it became the starting-point of a still more\nextended and arduous enquiry. We followed the widening horizon of his\nspeculations until they embraced the whole contemporary life of Hellas,\nand involved it in a common condemnation as either hopelessly corrupt,\nor containing within itself the seeds of corruption. We then saw how,\nby a farther generalisation, he was led to look for the sources of\nerror in the laws of man\u2019s sensuous nature and of the phenomenal world\nwith which it holds communion; how, moreover, under the guidance of\nsuggestions coming both from within and from without, he reverted to\nthe earlier schools of Greek thought, and brought their results into\nparallelism with the main lines of Socratic dialectic. And finally,\nwe watched him planting a firm foothold on the basis of mathematical\ndemonstration; seeking in the very constitution of the soul itself for\na derivation of the truths which sensuous experience could not impart,\nand winning back from a more profoundly reasoned religion the hope,\nthe self-confidence, the assurance of perfect knowledge, which had been\nformerly surrendered in deference to the demands of a merely external\nand traditional faith. That God alone is wise, and by consequence alone\ngood, might still remain a fixed principle with Plato; but it ceased\nto operate as a restraint on human aspiration when he had come to\nrecognise an essential unity among all forms of conscious life, which,\nthough it might be clouded and forgotten, could never be entirely\neffaced. And when Plato tells us, at the close of his career, that God,\nfar more than any individual man, is the measure of all things,[133]\nwho can doubt that he had already learned to identify the human and\ndivine essences in the common notion of a universal soul?\n\nThe germ of this new dogmatism was present in Plato\u2019s mind from\nthe very beginning, and was partly an inheritance from older forms\nof thought. The _Apologia_ had reproduced one important feature in\nthe positive teaching of Socrates\u2014the distinction between soul\nand body, and the necessity of attending to the former rather than\nto the latter: and this had now acquired such significance as to\nleave no standing-room for the agnosticism with which it had been\nincompatible from the first. The same irresistible force of expansion\nwhich had brought the human soul into communion with absolute truth,\nwas to be equally verified in a different direction. Plato was too\nmuch interested in practical questions to be diverted from them long\nby any theoretical philosophy; or, perhaps, we should rather say\nthat this interest had accompanied and inspired him throughout. It\nis from the essential relativity of mind, the profound craving for\nintellectual sympathy with other minds, that all mystical imaginations\nand super-subtle abstractions take rise; so that, when the strain of\ntranscendent absorption and ecstasy is relaxed under the chilling\nbut beneficent contact of earthly experience, they become condensed\ninto ideas for the reconstitution of life and society on a basis of\nreciprocity, of self-restraint, and of self-devotion to a commonwealth\ngreater and more enduring than any individual, while, at the same\ntime, presenting to each in objective form the principle by virtue of\nwhich only, instead of being divided, he can become reconciled with\nhimself. Here we have the creed of all philosophy, whether theological,\nmetaphysical, or positive, that there is, or that there should be, this\nthreefold unity of feeling, of action, and of thought, of the soul,\nof society, and of universal existence, to win which is everlasting\nlife, while to be without it is everlasting death. This creed must be\nre-stated and re-interpreted at every revolution of thought. We have to\nsee how it was, for the first time, stated and interpreted by Plato.\n\nThe principal object of Plato\u2019s negative criticism had been to\nemphasise the distinction between reality and appearance in the world\nwithout, between sense, or imagination, and reason in the human soul.\nTrue to the mediatorial spirit of Greek thought, his object now was to\nbridge over the seemingly impassable gulf. We must not be understood to\nsay that these two distinct, and to some extent contrasted, tendencies\ncorrespond to two definitely divided periods of his life. It is evident\nthat the tasks of dissection and reconstruction were often carried on\nconjointly, and represented two aspects of an indivisible process.\nBut on the whole there is good reason to believe that Plato, like\nother men, was more inclined to pull to pieces in his youth and to\nbuild up in his later days. We are, therefore, disposed to agree with\nthose critics who assign both the _Phaedrus_ and the _Symposium_ to a\ncomparatively advanced stage of Platonic speculation. It is less easy\nto decide which of the two was composed first, for there seems to be a\ngreater maturity of thought in the one and of style in the other. For\nour purposes it will be most convenient to consider them together.\n\nWe have seen how Plato came to look on mathematics as an introduction\nto absolute knowledge. He now discovered a parallel method of approach\ntowards perfect wisdom in an order of experience which to most persons\nmight seem as far as possible removed from exact science\u2014in those\npassionate feelings which were excited in the Greek imagination by the\nspectacle of youthful beauty, without distinction of sex. There was,\nat least among the Athenians, a strong intellectual element in the\nattachments arising out of such feelings; and the strange anomaly might\noften be seen of a man devoting himself to the education of a youth\nwhom he was, in other respects, doing his utmost to corrupt. Again, the\nbeauty by which a Greek felt most fascinated came nearer to a visible\nembodiment of mind than any that has ever been known, and as such could\nbe associated with the purest philosophical aspirations. And, finally,\nthe passion of love in its normal manifestations is an essentially\ngeneric instinct, being that which carries an individual most entirely\nout of himself, making him instrumental to the preservation of the race\nin forms of ever-increasing comeliness and vigour; so that, given a\nwise training and a wide experience, the maintenance of a noble breed\nmay safely be entrusted to its infallible selection.[134] All these\npoints of view have been developed by Plato with such copiousness\nof illustration and splendour of language that his name is still\nassociated in popular fancy with an ideal of exalted and purified\ndesire.\n\nSo far, however, we only stand on the threshold of Platonic love. The\nearthly passion, being itself a kind of generalisation, is our first\nstep in the ascent to that highest stage of existence where wisdom\nand virtue and happiness are one\u2014the good to which all other goods\nare related as means to an end. But love is not only an introduction\nto philosophy, it is a type of philosophy itself. Both are conditions\nintermediate between vacuity and fulfilment; desire being by its very\nnature dissatisfied, and vanishing at the instant that its object\nis attained. The philosopher is a lover of wisdom, and therefore not\nwise; and yet not wholly ignorant, for he knows that he knows nothing.\nThus we seem to be thrown back on the standpoint of Plato\u2019s earliest\nagnosticism. Nevertheless, if the _Symposium_ agrees nominally with\nthe _Apologia_, in reality it marks a much more advanced point of\nspeculation. The idea of what knowledge is has begun to assume a much\nclearer expression. We gather from various hints and suggestions\nthat it is the perception of likeness; the very process of ascending\ngeneralisation typified by intellectual love.\n\nIt is worthy of remark that in the Platonic Er\u00f4s we have the germ\u2014or\nsomething more than the germ\u2014of Aristotle\u2019s whole metaphysical\nsystem.[135] According to the usual law of speculative evolution, what\nwas subjective in the one becomes objective in the other. With Plato\nthe passion for knowledge had been merely the guiding principle of a\nfew chosen spirits. With Aristotle it is the living soul of Nature,\nthe secret spring of movement, from the revolution of the outermost\nstarry sphere to the decomposition and recomposition of our mutable\nterrestrial elements; and from these again through the whole scale of\norganic life, up to the moral culture of man and the search for an\nideally-constituted state. What enables all these myriad movements\nto continue through eternity, returning ever in an unbroken circle\non themselves, is the yearning of unformed matter\u2014that is to say,\nof unrealised power\u2014towards the absolute unchanging actuality,\nthe self-thinking thought, unmoved, but moving every other form of\nexistence by the desire to participate in its ineffable perfection.\nBorn of the Hellenic enthusiasm for beauty, this wonderful conception\nsubsequently became incorporated with the official teaching of Catholic\ntheology. What had once been a theme for ribald merriment or for\nrhetorical ostentation among the golden youth of Athens, furnished\nthe motive for his most transcendent meditations to the Angel of the\nSchools; but the fire which lurked under the dusty abstractions of\nAquinas needed the touch of a poet and a lover before it could be\nrekindled into flame. The eyes of Beatrice completed what the dialectic\nof Plato had begun; and the hundred cantos of her adorer found their\nfitting close in the love that moves the sun and the other stars.\n\nWe must, however, observe that, underlying all these poetical\nimaginations, there is a deeper and wider law of human nature to which\nthey unconsciously bear witness\u2014the intimate connexion of religious\nmysticism with the passion of love. By this we do not mean the constant\ninterference of the one with the other, whether for the purpose of\nstimulation, as with the naturalistic religions, or for the purpose\nof restraint, as with the ethical religions; but we mean that they\nseem to divide between them a common fund of nervous energy, so that\nsometimes their manifestations are inextricably confounded, as in\ncertain debased forms of modern Christianity; sometimes they utterly\nexclude one another; and sometimes, which is the most frequent case of\nany, the one is transformed into the other, their substantial identity\nand continuity being indicated very frankly by their use of the same\nlanguage, the same ritual, and the same aesthetic decoration. And this\nwill show how the decay of religious belief may be accompanied by\nan outbreak of moral licence, without our being obliged to draw the\ninference that passion can only be held in check by irrational beliefs,\nor by organisations whose supremacy is fatal to industrial, political,\nand intellectual progress. For, if our view of the case be correct,\nthe passion was not really restrained, but only turned in a different\ndirection, and frequently nourished into hysterical excess; so that,\nwith the inevitable decay of theology, it returns to its old haunts,\nbringing with it seven devils worse than the first. After the Crusades\ncame the Courts of Love; after the Dominican and Franciscan movements,\nthe Renaissance; after Puritanism, the Restoration; after Jesuitism,\nthe Regency. Nor is this all. The passion of which we are speaking,\nwhen abnormally developed and unbalanced by severe intellectual\nexercise, is habitually accompanied by delirious jealousy, by cruelty,\nand by deceit. On taking the form of religion, the influence of its\nevil associates immediately becomes manifest in the suppression of\nalien creeds, in the tortures inflicted on their adherents, and in the\nmaxim that no faith need be kept with a heretic. Persecution has been\nexcused on the ground that any means were justifiable for the purpose\nof saving souls from eternal torment. But how came it to be believed\nthat such a consequence was involved in a mere error of judgment? The\nfaith did not create the intolerance, but the intolerance created\nthe faith, and so gave an idealised expression to the jealous fury\naccompanying a passion which no spiritual alchemy can purify from\nits original affinities. It is not by turning this most terrible\ninstinct towards a supernatural object that we should combat it, but by\ndeveloping the active and masculine in preference to the emotional and\nfeminine side of our nervous organisation.[136]\n\nIn addition to its other great lessons, the _Symposium_ has afforded\nPlato an opportunity for contrasting his own method of philosophising\nwith pre-Socratic modes of thought. For it consists of a series of\ndiscourses in praise of love, so arranged as to typify the manner in\nwhich Greek speculation, after beginning with mythology, subsequently\nadvanced to physical theories of phenomena, then passed from the\nhistorical to the contemporary method, asking, not whence did things\ncome, but what are they in themselves; and finally arrived at the\nlogical standpoint of analysis, classification, and induction.\n\nThe nature of dialectic is still further elucidated in the _Phaedrus_,\nwhere it is also contrasted with the method, or rather the no-method,\nof popular rhetoric. Here, again, discussions about love are chosen\nas an illustration. A discourse on the subject by no less a writer\nthan Lysias is quoted and shown to be deficient in the most elementary\nrequisites of logical exposition. The different arguments are strung\ntogether without any principle of arrangement, and ambiguous terms\nare used without being defined. In insisting on the necessity of\ndefinition, Plato followed Socrates; but he defines according to a\ntotally different method. Socrates had arrived at his general notions\npartly by a comparison of particular instances with a view to eliciting\nthe points where they agreed, partly by amending the conceptions\nalready in circulation. We have seen that the earliest Dialogues\nattributed to Plato are one long exposure of the difficulties attending\nsuch a procedure; and his subsequent investigations all went to prove\nthat nothing solid could be built on such shifting foundations as\nsense and opinion. Meanwhile increasing familiarity with the great\nontological systems had taught him to begin with the most general\nnotions, and to work down from them to the most particular. The\nconsequence was that dialectic came to mean nothing but classification\nor logical division. Definition was absorbed into this process, and\nreasoning by syllogism was not yet differentiated from it. To tell\nwhat a thing was, meant to fix its place in the universal order of\nexistence, and its individual existence was sufficiently accounted for\nby the same determination. If we imagine first a series of concentric\ncircles, then a series of contrasts symmetrically disposed on either\nside of a central dividing line, and finally a series of transitions\ndescending from the most absolute unity to the most irregular\ndiversity\u2014we shall, by combining the three schemes, arrive at some\nunderstanding of the Platonic dialectic. To assign anything its place\nin these various sequences was at once to define it and to demonstrate\nthe necessity of its existence. The arrangement is also equivalent to\na theory of final causes; for everything has a function to perform,\nmarked out by its position, and bringing it into relation with the\nuniversal order. Such a system would inevitably lead to the denial of\nevil, were not evil itself interpreted as the necessary correlative\nof good, or as a necessary link in the descending manifestations of\nreality. Moreover, by virtue of his identifying principle, Plato saw\nin the lowest forms a shadow or reflection of the highest. Hence the\nmany surprises, concessions, and returns to abandoned positions which\nwe find in his later writings. The three moments of Greek thought,\ncircumscription, antithesis, and mediation, work in such close union,\nor with such bewildering rapidity of alternation, through all his\ndialectic, that we are never sure whither he is leading us, and not\nalways sure that he knows it himself.\n\nIn the opening chapter of this work we endeavoured to explain how the\nPythagorean philosophy arose out of the intoxicated delight inspired by\na first acquaintance with the manifold properties of number and figure.\nIf we would enter into the spirit of Platonism, we must similarly\nthrow ourselves back into the time when the idea of a universal\nclassification first dawned on men\u2019s minds. We must remember how it\ngratified the Greek love of order combined with individuality; what\nunbounded opportunities for asking and answering questions it supplied;\nand what promises of practical regeneration it held out. Not without\na shade of sadness for so many baffled efforts and so many blighted\nhopes, yet also with a grateful recollection of all that reason\nhas accomplished, and with something of his own high intellectual\nenthusiasm, shall we listen to Plato\u2019s prophetic words\u2014words of deeper\nimport than their own author knew\u2014\u2018If I find any man who is able to\nsee a One and Many in Nature, him I follow and walk in his steps as if\nhe were a god.\u2019[137]\n\nIt is interesting to see how the most comprehensive systems of the\npresent century, even when most opposed to the metaphysical spirit,\nare still constructed on the plan long ago sketched by Plato. Alike\nin his classification of the sciences, in his historical deductions,\nand in his plans for the reorganisation of society, Auguste Comte\nadopts a scheme of ascending or descending generality. The conception\nof differentiation and integration employed both by Hegel and by\nMr. Herbert Spencer is also of Platonic origin; only, what with the\nancient thinker was a statical law of order has become with his modern\nsuccessors a dynamic law of progress; while, again, there is this\ndistinction between the German and the English philosopher, that the\nformer construes as successive moments of the Idea what the latter\nregards as simultaneous and interdependent processes of evolution.\n\n\nII.\n\nThe study of psychology with Plato stands in a fourfold relation to\nhis general theory of the world. The dialectic method, without which\nNature would remain unintelligible, is a function of the soul, and\nconstitutes its most essential activity; then soul, as distinguished\nfrom body, represents the higher, supersensual element of existence;\nthirdly, the objective dualism of reality and appearance is reproduced\nin the subjective dualism of reason and sense; and lastly, soul, as\nthe original spring of movement, mediates between the eternal entities\nwhich are unmoved and the material phenomena which are subject to\na continual flux. It is very characteristic of Plato that he first\nstrains an antithesis to the utmost and then endeavours to reconcile\nits extremes by the interposition of one or more intermediate links.\nSo, while assigning this office to soul as a part of the universe, he\nclassifies the psychic functions themselves according to a similar\nprinciple. On the intellectual side he places true opinion, or what\nwe should now call empirical knowledge, midway between demonstration\nand sense-perception. Such at least seems to be the result reached in\nthe _Theaet\u00eatus_ and the _Meno_. In the _Republic_ a further analysis\nleads to a somewhat different arrangement. Opinion is placed between\nknowledge and ignorance; while the possible objects to which it\ncorresponds form a transition from being to not-being. Subsequently\nmathematical reasoning is distinguished from the higher science which\ntakes cognisance of first principles, and thus serves to connect it\nwith simple opinion; while this again, dealing as it does with material\nobjects, is related to the knowledge of their shadows as the most\nperfect science is related to mathematics.[138]\n\nTurning from dialectic to ethics, Plato in like manner feels the need\nof interposing a mediator between reason and appetite. The quality\nchosen for this purpose he calls \u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2, a term which does not, as has\nbeen erroneously supposed, correspond to our word Will, but rather\nto pride, or the feeling of personal honour. It is both the seat of\nmilitary courage and the natural auxiliary of reason, with which it\nco-operates in restraining the animal desires. It is a characteristic\ndifference between Socrates and Plato that the former should have\nhabitually reinforced his arguments for virtue by appeals to\nself-interest; while the latter, with his aristocratic way of looking\nat things, prefers to enlist the aid of a haughtier feeling on their\nbehalf. Aristotle followed in the same track when he taught that to be\novercome by anger is less discreditable than to be overcome by desire.\nIn reality none of the instincts tending to self-preservation is more\npraiseworthy than another, or more amenable to the control of reason.\nPlato\u2019s tripartite division of mind cannot be made to fit into the\nclassifications of modern psychology, which are adapted not only to a\nmore advanced state of knowledge but also to more complex conditions\nof life. But the characters of women, by their greater simplicity and\nuniformity, show to some extent what those of men may once have been;\nand it will, perhaps, confirm the analysis of the _Phaedrus_ to recall\nthe fact that personal pride is still associated with moral principle\nin the guardianship of female virtue.\n\nIf the soul served to connect the eternal realities with the fleeting\nappearances by which they were at once darkened, relieved, and shadowed\nforth, it was also a bond of union between the speculative and the\npractical philosophy of Plato; and in discussing his psychology we have\nalready passed from the one to the other. The transition will become\nstill easier if we remember that the question, \u2018What is knowledge?\u2019\nwas, according to our view, originally suggested by a theory reducing\nethical science to a hedonistic calculus, and that along with it would\narise another question, \u2018What is pleasure?\u2019 This latter enquiry,\nthough incidentally touched on elsewhere, is not fully dealt with in\nany Dialogue except the _Phil\u00eabus_, which we agree with Prof. Jowett\nin referring to a very late period of Platonic authorship. But the\nline of argument which it pursues had probably been long familiar\nto our philosopher. At any rate, the _Phaedo_, the _Republic_, and\nperhaps the _Gorgias_, assume, as already proved, that pleasure is\nnot the highest good. The question is one on which thinkers are still\ndivided. It seems, indeed, to lie outside the range of reason, and\nthe disputants are accordingly obliged to invoke the authority either\nof individual consciousness or of common consent on behalf of their\nrespective opinions. We have, however, got so far beyond the ancients\nthat the doctrine of egoistic hedonism has been abandoned by almost\neverybody. The substitution of another\u2019s pleasure for our own as the\nobject of pursuit was not a conception which presented itself to\nany Greek moralist, although the principle of self-sacrifice was\nmaintained by some of them, and especially by Plato, to its fullest\nextent. Pleasure-seeking being inseparably associated with selfishness,\nthe latter was best attacked through the former, and if Plato\u2019s logic\ndoes not commend itself to our understanding, we must admit that it was\nemployed in defence of a noble cause.\n\nThe style of polemics adopted on this occasion, whatever else may\nbe its value, will serve excellently to illustrate the general\ndialectic method of attack. When Plato particularly disliked a class\nof persons, or an institution, or an art, or a theory, or a state of\nconsciousness, he tried to prove that it was confused, unstable, and\nself-contradictory; besides taking full advantage of any discredit\npopularly attached to it. All these objections are brought to bear\nwith full force against pleasure. Some pleasures are delusive, since\nthe reality of them falls far short of the anticipation; all pleasure\nis essentially transitory, a perpetual becoming, never a fixed state,\nand therefore not an end of action; pleasures which ensue on the\nsatisfaction of desires are necessarily accompanied by pains and\ndisappear simultaneously with them; the most intense, and for that\nreason the most typical, pleasures, are associated with feelings of\nshame, and their enjoyment is carefully hidden out of sight.\n\nSuch arguments have almost the air of an afterthought, and Plato was\nperhaps more powerfully swayed by other considerations, which we\nshall now proceed to analyse. When pleasure was assumed to be the\nhighest good, knowledge was agreed to be the indispensable means\nfor its attainment; and, as so often happens, the means gradually\nsubstituted itself for the end. Nor was this all; for knowledge (or\nreason) being not only the means but the supreme arbiter, when called\non to adjudicate between conflicting claims, would naturally pronounce\nin its own favour. Naturally, also, a moralist who made science the\nchief interest of his own life would come to believe that it was the\nproper object of all life, whether attended or not by any pleasurable\nemotion. And so, in direct opposition to the utilitarian theory,\nPlato declares at last that to brave a lesser pain in order to escape\nfrom a greater, or to renounce a lesser pleasure in order to secure a\ngreater, is cowardice and intemperance in disguise; and that wisdom,\nwhich he had formerly regarded as a means to other ends, is the one\nend for which everything else should be exchanged.[139] Perhaps it may\nhave strengthened him in this attitude to observe that the many, whose\nopinion he so thoroughly despised, made pleasure their aim in life,\nwhile the fastidious few preferred knowledge. Yet, after a time, even\nthe latter alternative failed to satisfy his restless spirit. For the\nconception of knowledge resolved itself into the deeper conceptions of\na knowing subject and a known object, the soul and the universe, each\nof which became in turn the supreme ideal. What interpretation should\nbe given to virtue depended on the choice between them. According to\nthe one view it was a purification of the higher principle within us\nfrom material wants and passions. Sensual gratifications should be\navoided, because they tend to degrade and pollute the soul. Death\nshould be fearlessly encountered, because it will release her from the\nrestrictions of bodily existence. But Plato had too strong a grasp\non the realities of life to remain satisfied with a purely ascetic\nmorality. Knowledge, on the objective side, brought him into relation\nwith an organised universe where each individual existed, not for his\nown sake but for the sake of the whole, to fulfil a definite function\nin the system of which he formed a part. And if from one point of\nview the soul herself was an absolutely simple indivisible substance,\nfrom another point of view she reflected the external order, and only\nfulfilled the law of her being when each separate faculty was exercised\nwithin its appropriate sphere.\n\nThere still remained one last problem to solve, one point where the\nconverging streams of ethical and metaphysical speculation met and\nmixed. Granted that knowledge is the soul\u2019s highest energy, what is the\nobject of this beatific vision? Granted that all particular energies\nco-operate for a common purpose, what is the end to which they are\nsubordinated? Granted that dialectic leads us up through ascending\ngradations to one all-comprehensive idea, how is that idea to be\ndefined? Plato only attempts to answer this last question by re-stating\nit under the form of an illustration. As the sun at once gives life to\nall Nature, and light to the eye by which Nature is perceived, so also\nthe idea of Good is the cause of existence and of knowledge alike, but\ntranscends them both as an absolute unity, of which we cannot even say\nthat it is, for the distinction of subject and predicate would bring\nback relativity and plurality again. Here we seem to have the Socratic\nparadox reversed. Socrates identified virtue with knowledge, but, at\nthe same time, entirely emptied the latter of its speculative content.\nPlato, inheriting the idea of knowledge in its artificially restricted\nsignificance, was irresistibly drawn back to the older philosophy\nwhence it had been originally borrowed; then, just as his master had\ngiven an ethical application to science, so did he, travelling over the\nsame ground in an opposite direction, extend the theory of ethics far\nbeyond its legitimate range, until a principle which seemed to have no\nmeaning, except in reference to human conduct, became the abstract bond\nof union between all reality and all thought.\n\nWhether Plato ever succeeded in making the idea of Good quite clear to\nothers, or even to himself, is more than we can tell. In the _Republic_\nhe declines giving further explanations on the ground that his pupils\nhave not passed through the necessary mathematical initiation. Whether\nquantitative reasoning was to furnish the form or the matter of\ntranscendent dialectic is left undetermined. We are told that on one\noccasion a large audience assembled to hear Plato lecture on the Good,\nbut that, much to their disappointment, the discourse was entirely\nfilled with geometrical and astronomical investigations. Bearing in\nmind, however, that mathematical science deals chiefly with equations,\nand that astronomy, according to Plato, had for its object to prove\nthe absolute uniformity of the celestial motions, we may perhaps\nconclude that the idea of Good meant no more than the abstract notion\nof identity or indistinguishable likeness. The more complex idea of law\nas a uniformity of relations, whether coexistent or successive, had not\nthen dawned, but it has since been similarly employed to bring physics\ninto harmony with ethics and logic.\n\n\nIII.\n\nSo far we have followed the evolution of Plato\u2019s philosophy as it may\nhave been effected under the impulse of purely theoretical motives.\nWe have now to consider what form was imposed on it by the more\nimperious exigencies of practical experience. Here, again, we find\nPlato taking up and continuing the work of Socrates, but on a vastly\ngreater scale. There was, indeed, a kind of pre-established harmony\nbetween the expression of thought on the one hand and the increasing\nneed for its application to life on the other. For the spread of\npublic corruption had gone on _pari passu_ with the development of\nphilosophy. The teaching of Socrates was addressed to individuals,\nand dealt chiefly with private morality. On other points he was\ncontent to accept the law of the land and the established political\nconstitution as sufficiently safe guides. He was not accustomed to see\nthem defied or perverted into instruments of selfish aggrandisement;\nnor, apparently, had the possibility of such a contingency occurred\nto him. Still less did he imagine that all social institutions then\nexisting were radically wrong. Hence the personal virtues held a more\nimportant place in his system than the social virtues. His attacks\nwere directed against slothfulness and self-indulgence, against the\nignorant temerity which hurried some young men into politics before\ntheir education was finished, and the timidity or fastidiousness which\nprevented others from discharging the highest duties of citizenship.\nNor, in accepting the popular religion of his time, had he any\nsuspicion that its sanctions might be invoked on behalf of successful\nviolence and fraud. We have already shown how differently Plato felt\ntowards his age, and how much deeper as well as more shameless was\nthe demoralisation with which he set himself to contend. It must also\nbe remembered how judicial proceedings had come to overshadow every\nother public interest; and how the highest culture of the time had, at\nleast in his eyes, become identified with the systematic perversion\nof truth and right. These considerations will explain why Greek\nphilosophy, while moving on a higher plane, passed through the same\norbit which had been previously described by Greek poetry. Precisely\nas the lessons of moderation in Homer had been followed by the lessons\nof justice in Aeschylus, precisely as the religion which was a selfish\ntraffic between gods and men, and had little to tell of a life beyond\nthe grave, was replaced by the nobler faith in a divine guardianship\nof morality and a retributive judgment after death\u2014so also did the\nSocratic ethics and the Socratic theology lead to a system which\nmade justice the essence of morality and religion its everlasting\nconsecration.\n\nTemperance and justice are very clearly distinguished in our minds.\nThe one is mainly a self-regarding, the other mainly a social virtue.\nBut it would be a mistake to suppose that the distinction was equally\nclear to Plato. He had learned from Socrates that all virtue is one.\nHe found himself confronted by men who pointedly opposed interest to\nhonour and expediency to fair-dealing, without making any secret of\ntheir preference for the former. Here, as elsewhere, he laboured to\ndissolve away the vulgar antithesis and to substitute for it a deeper\none\u2014the antithesis between real and apparent goods. He was quite\nready to imagine the case of a man who might have to incur all sorts\nof suffering in the practice of justice even to the extent of infamy,\ntorture, and death; but without denying that these were evils, he held\nthat to practise injustice with the accompaniment of worldly prosperity\nwas a greater evil still. And this conviction is quite unconnected\nwith his belief in a future life. He would not have agreed with St.\nPaul that virtue is a bad calculation without the hope of a reward for\nit hereafter. His morality is absolutely independent of any extrinsic\nconsiderations. Nevertheless, he holds that in our own interest we\nshould do what is right; and it never seems to have entered his\nthoughts that there could be any other motive for doing it. We have to\nexplain how such a paradox was possible.\n\nPlato seems to have felt very strongly that all virtuous action tends\ntowards a good exceeding in value any temporary sacrifice which it may\ninvolve; and the accepted connotation of ethical terms went entirely\nalong with this belief. But he could not see that a particular action\nmight be good for the community at large and bad for the individual who\nperformed it, not in a different sense but in the very same sense, as\ninvolving a diminution of his happiness. For from Plato\u2019s abstract and\ngeneralising point of view all good was homogeneous, and the welfare of\nthe individual was absolutely identified with the welfare of the whole\nto which he belonged. As against those who made right dependent on\nmight and erected self-indulgence into the law of life Plato occupied\nan impregnable position. He showed that such principles made society\nimpossible, and that without honour even a gang of thieves cannot\nhold together.[140] He also saw that it is reason which brings each\nindividual into relation with the whole and enables him to understand\nhis obligations towards it; but at the same time he gave this reason a\npersonal character which does not properly belong to it; or, what comes\nto the same thing, he treated human beings as pure _entia rationis_,\nthus unwittingly removing the necessity for having any morality at all.\nOn his assumption it would be absurd to break the law; but neither\nwould there be any temptation to break it, nor would any unpleasant\nconsequences follow on its violation. Plato speaks of injustice as an\ninjury to the soul\u2019s health, and therefore as the greatest evil that\ncan befall a human being, without observing that the inference involves\na confusion of terms. For his argument requires that soul should mean\nboth the whole of conscious life and the system of abstract notions\nthrough which we communicate and co-operate with our fellow-creatures.\nAll crime is a serious disturbance to the latter, for it cannot without\nabsurdity be made the foundation of a general rule; but, apart from\npenal consequences, it does not impair, and may benefit the former.\n\nWhile Plato identified the individual with the community by slurring\nover the possible divergence of their interests, he still further\ncontributed to their logical confusion by resolving the ego into a\nmultitude of conflicting faculties and impulses supposed to represent\nthe different classes of which a State is made up. His opponents\nheld that justice and law emanate from the ruling power in the body\npolitic; and they were brought to admit that supreme power is properly\nvested in the wisest and best citizens. Transferring these principles\nto the inner forum, he maintained that a psychological aristocracy\ncould only be established by giving reason a similar control over the\nanimal passions.[141] At first sight, this seemed to imply no more\nthan a return to the standpoint of Socrates, or of Plato himself in\nthe _Protagoras_. The man who indulges his desires within the limits\nprescribed by a regard for their safe satisfaction through his whole\nlife, may be called temperate and reasonable, but he is not necessarily\njust. If, however, we identify the paramount authority within with\nthe paramount authority without, we shall have to admit that there\nis a faculty of justice in the individual soul corresponding to the\nobjective justice of political law; and since the supreme virtue is\nagreed on all hands to be reason, we must go a step further and admit\nthat justice is reason, or that it is reasonable to be just; and\nthat by consequence the height of injustice is the height of folly.\nMoreover, this fallacious substitution of justice for temperance was\nfacilitated by the circumstance that although the former virtue is not\ninvolved in the latter, the latter is to a very great extent involved\nin the former. Self-control by no means carries with it a respect for\nthe rights of others; but where such respect exists it necessitates a\nconsiderable amount of self-control.\n\nWe trust that the steps of a difficult argument have been made clear by\nthe foregoing analysis; and that the whole process has been shown to\nhinge on the ambiguous use of such notions as the individual and the\ncommunity, of which the one is paradoxically construed as a plurality\nand the other as a unity; justice, which is alternately taken in the\nsense of control exercised by the worthiest, control of passion in the\ngeneral interest, control of our passions in the interest of others,\nand control of the same passions in our own interest; and wisdom or\nreason, which sometimes means any kind of excellence, sometimes the\nexcellence of a harmonious society, and sometimes the excellence of a\nwell-balanced mind. Thus, out of self-regarding virtue social virtue\nis elicited, the whole process being ultimately conditioned by that\nidentifying power which was at once the strength and the weakness of\nPlato\u2019s genius.\n\nPlato knew perfectly well that although rhetoricians and men of\nthe world might be silenced, they could not be converted nor even\nconvinced by such arguments as these. So far from thinking it possible\nto reason men into virtue, he has observed of those who are slaves\nto their senses that you must improve them before you can teach them\nthe truth.[L] And he felt that if the complete assimilation of the\nindividual and the community was to become more than a mere logical\nformula, it must be effected by a radical reform in the training of\nthe one and in the institutions of the other. Accordingly, he set\nhimself to elaborate a scheme for the purpose, our knowledge of which\nis chiefly derived from his greatest work, the _Republic_. We have\nalready made large use of the negative criticism scattered through that\nDialogue; we have now to examine the positive teaching by which it was\nsupplemented.\n\n\nIV.\n\nPlato, like Socrates, makes religious instruction the basis of\neducation. But where the master had been content to set old beliefs on\na new basis of demonstration, the disciple aimed at nothing less than\ntheir complete purification from irrational and immoral ingredients.\nHe lays down two great principles, that God is good, and that He is\ntrue.[142] Every story which is inconsistent with such a character must\nbe rejected; so also must everything in the poets which redounds to the\ndiscredit of the national heroes, together with everything tending in\nthe remotest degree to make vice attractive or virtue repellent. It is\nevident that Plato, like Xenophanes, repudiated not only the scandalous\ndetails of popular mythology, but also the anthropomorphic conceptions\nwhich lay at its foundation; although he did not think it advisable to\nstate his unbelief with equal frankness. His own theology was a sort\nof star-worship, and he proved the divinity of the heavenly bodies by\nan appeal to the uniformity of their movements.[143] He further taught\nthat the world was created by an absolutely good Being; but we cannot\nbe sure that this was more than a popular version of the theory which\nplaced the abstract idea of Good at the summit of the dialectic series.\nThe truth is that there are two distinct types of religion, the one\nchiefly interested in the existence and attributes of God, the other\nchiefly interested in the destiny of the human soul. The former is best\nrepresented by Judaism, the latter by Buddhism. Plato belongs to the\npsychic rather than to the theistic type. The doctrine of immortality\nappears again and again in his Dialogues, and one of the most beautiful\namong them is entirely devoted to proving it. He seems throughout to be\nconscious that he is arguing in favour of a paradox. Here, at least,\nthere are no appeals to popular prejudice such as figure so largely in\nsimilar discussions among ourselves. The belief in immortality had long\nbeen stirring; but it had not taken deep root among the Ionian Greeks.\nWe cannot even be sure that it was embraced as a consoling hope by any\nbut the highest minds anywhere in Hellas, or by them for more than a\nbrief period. It would be easy to maintain that this arose from some\nnatural incongeniality to the Greek imagination in thoughts which drew\nit away from the world of sense and the delights of earthly life. But\nthe explanation breaks down immediately when we attempt to verify it\nby a wider experience. No modern nation enjoys life so keenly as the\nFrench. Yet, quite apart from traditional dogmas, there is no nation\nthat counts so many earnest supporters of the belief in a spiritual\nexistence beyond the grave. And, to take an individual example, it is\njust the keen relish which Mr. Browning\u2019s Cleon has for every sort of\nenjoyment which makes him shrink back with horror from the thought of\nannihilation, and grasp at any promise of a happiness to be prolonged\nthrough eternity. A closer examination is needed to show us by what\ncauses the current of Greek thought was swayed.\n\nThe great religious movement of the sixth and fifth centuries\u2014chiefly\nrepresented for us by the names of Pythagoras, Aeschylus, and\nPindar\u2014would in all probability have entirely won over the educated\nclasses, and given definiteness to the half-articulate utterances\nof popular tradition, had it not been arrested prematurely by\nthe development of physical speculation. We showed in the first\nchapter that Greek philosophy in its earliest stages was entirely\nmaterialistic. It differed, indeed, from modern materialism in holding\nthat the soul, or seat of conscious life, is an entity distinct from\nthe body; but the distinction was one between a grosser and a finer\nmatter, or else between a simpler and a more complex arrangement of\nthe same matter, not between an extended and an indivisible substance.\nWhatever theories, then, were entertained with respect to the one\nwould inevitably come to be entertained also with respect to the\nother. Now, with the exception of the Eleates, who denied the reality\nof change and separation altogether, every school agreed in teaching\nthat all particular bodies are formed either by differentiation or by\ndecomposition and recomposition out of the same primordial elements.\nFrom this it followed, as a natural consequence, that, although\nthe whole mass of matter was eternal, each particular aggregate of\nmatter must perish in order to release the elements required for the\nformation of new aggregates. It is obvious that, assuming the soul to\nbe material, its immortality was irreconcilable with such a doctrine as\nthis. A combination of four elements and two conflicting forces, such\nas Empedocles supposed the human mind to be, could not possibly outlast\nthe organism in which it was enclosed; and if Empedocles himself, by\nan inconsistency not uncommon with men of genius, refused to draw the\nonly legitimate conclusion from his own principles, the discrepancy\ncould not fail to force itself on his successors. Still more fatal to\nthe belief in a continuance of personal identity after death was the\ntheory put forward by Diogenes of Apollonia, that there is really no\npersonal identity even in life\u2014that consciousness is only maintained\nby a perpetual inhalation of the vital air in which all reason resides.\nThe soul very literally left the body with the last breath, and had a\npoor chance of holding together afterwards, especially, as the wits\nobserved, if a high wind happened to be blowing at the time.\n\nIt would appear that even in the Pythagorean school there had been a\nreaction against a doctrine which its founder had been the first to\npopularise in Hellas. The Pythagoreans had always attributed great\nimportance to the conceptions of harmony and numerical proportion; and\nthey soon came to think of the soul as a ratio which the different\nelements of the animal body bore to one another; or as a musical\nconcord resulting from the joint action of its various members, which\nmight be compared to the strings of a lute. But\n\n              \u2018When the lute is broken\n    Sweet tones are remembered not.\u2019\n\nAnd so, with the dissolution of our bodily organism, the music of\nconsciousness would pass away for ever. Perhaps no form of psychology\ntaught in the Greek schools has approached nearer to modern thought\nthan this. It was professed at Thebes by two Pythagoreans, Cebes and\nSimmias, in the time of Plato. He rightly regarded them as formidable\nopponents, for they were ready to grant whatever he claimed for\nthe soul in the way of immateriality and superiority to the body,\nwhile denying the possibility of its separate existence. We may\nso far anticipate the course of our exposition as to mention that\nthe direct argument by which he met them was a reference to the\nmoving power of mind, and to the constraint exercised by reason over\npassionate impulse; characteristics which the analogy with a musical\nharmony failed to explain. But his chief reliance was on an order of\nconsiderations, the historical genesis of which we shall now proceed to\ntrace.\n\nIt was by that somewhat slow and circuitous process, the negation of\na negation, that spiritualism was finally established. The shadows\nof doubt gathered still more thickly around futurity before another\nattempt could be made to remove them. For the scepticism of the\nHumanists and the ethical dialectic of Socrates, if they tended to\nweaken the dogmatic materialism of physical philosophy, were at first\nnot more favourable to the new faith which that philosophy had suddenly\neclipsed. For the one rejected every kind of supernaturalism; and the\nother did not attempt to go behind what had been directly revealed by\nthe gods, or was discoverable from an examination of their handiwork.\nNevertheless, the new enquiries, with their exclusively subjective\ndirection, paved the way for a return to the religious development\npreviously in progress. By leading men to think of mind as, above all,\na principle of knowledge and deliberate action, they altogether freed\nit from those material associations which brought it under the laws of\nexternal Nature, where every finite existence was destined, sooner or\nlater, to be reabsorbed and to disappear. The position was completely\nreversed when Nature was, as it were, brought up before the bar of\nMind to have her constitution determined or her very existence denied\nby that supreme tribunal. If the subjective idealism of Protagoras and\nGorgias made for spiritualism, so also did the teleological religion\nof Socrates. It was impossible to assert the priority and superiority\nof mind to matter more strongly than by teaching that a designing\nintelligence had created the whole visible universe for the exclusive\nenjoyment of man. The infinite without was in its turn absorbed by the\ninfinite within. Finally, the logical method of Socrates contained\nin itself the germs of a still subtler spiritualism which Plato now\nproceeded to work out.\n\nThe dialectic theory, considered in its relation to physics, tended\nto substitute the study of uniformity for the study of mechanical\ncausation. But the general conceptions established by science were\na kind of soul in Nature; they were immaterial, they could not be\nperceived by sense, and yet, remaining as they did unchanged in a world\nof change, they were far truer, far more real, than the phenomena to\nwhich they gave unity and definition. Now these self-existent ideas,\nbeing subjective in their origin, readily reacted on mind, and\ncommunicated to it those attributes of fixedness and eternal duration\nwhich had in truth been borrowed by them from Nature, not by Nature\nfrom them. Plato argued that the soul was in possession of ideas too\npure to have been derived from the suggestions of sense, and therefore\ntraceable to the reminiscences of an ante-natal experience. But we can\nsee that the reminiscence was all on the side of the ideas; it was they\nthat betrayed their human origin by the birthmark of abstraction and\nfinality\u2014betokening the limitation of man\u2019s faculties and the interest\nof his desires\u2014which still clung to them when from a temporary law of\nthought they were erected into an everlasting law of things. As Comte\nwould say, Plato was taking out of his conceptions what he had first\nput into them himself. And, if this consideration applies to all his\nreasonings on the subject of immortality, it applies especially to what\nhe regards as the most convincing demonstration of any. There is one\nidea, he tells us, with which the soul is inseparably and essentially\nassociated\u2014namely, the idea of life. Without this, soul can no more\nbe conceived than snow without cold or fire without heat; nor can\ndeath approach it without involving a logical contradiction. To assume\nthat the soul is separable from the body, and that life is inseparable\nfrom the soul, was certainly an expeditious method of proof. To a\nmodern, it would have the further disadvantage of proving too much.\nFor, by parity of reasoning, every living thing must have an immortal\nsoul, and every soul must have existed from all eternity. Plato\nfrankly accepted both conclusions, and even incorporated them with his\nethical system. He looked on the lower animals as so many stages in a\nprogressive degradation to which human beings had descended through\ntheir own violence or sensuality, but from which it was possible for\nthem to return after a certain period of penitence and probation.\nAt other times he describes a hell, a purgatory, and a heaven, not\nunlike what we read of in Dante, without apparently being conscious\nof any inconsistency between the two representations. It was, indeed,\nan inconsistency such as we find in the highest order of intellects,\nthe inconsistency of one who mediated between two worlds, between\nnaturalistic metempsychosis on the one side, and ethical individualism\non the other.\n\nIt was not merely the immortality, it was the eternity of the soul that\nPlato taught. For him the expectation of a life beyond the grave was\nidentified with the memory of an ante-natal existence, and the two must\nstand or fall together. When Shelley\u2019s shipwrecked mother exclaims to\nher child:\u2014\n\n    \u2018Alas! what is life, what is death, what are we,\n    That when the ship sinks we no longer may be!\n    What! to see thee no more, and to feel thee no more,\n    To be after life what we have been before!\u2019\n\nHer despair is but the inverted image of Plato\u2019s hope, the return to\na purer state of being where knowledge will no longer be obscured\nby passing through the perturbing medium of sight and touch. Again,\nmodern apologists for the injustice and misery of the present\nsystem[144] argue that its inequalities will be redressed in a future\nstate. Plato conversely regarded the sufferings of good men as a\nretribution for former sin, or as the result of a forgotten choice.\nThe authority of Pindar and of ancient tradition generally may have\ninfluenced his belief, but it had a deeper ground in the logic of a\nspiritualistic philosophy. The dualism of soul and body is only one\nform of his fundamental antithesis between the changeless essence\nand the transitory manifestations of existence. A pantheism like\nSpinoza\u2019s was the natural outcome of such a system; but his practical\ngenius or his ardent imagination kept Plato from carrying it so far.\nNor in the interests of progress was the result to be regretted; for\ntheology had to pass through one more phase before the term of its\nbeneficent activity could be reached. Ethical conceptions gained a new\nsignificance in the blended light of mythology and metaphysics; those\nwho made it their trade to pervert justice at its fountain-head might\nstill tremble before the terrors of a supernatural tribunal; or if\nPlato could not regenerate the life of his own people he could foretell\nwhat was to be the common faith of Europe in another thousand years;\nand memory, if not hope, is the richer for those magnificent visions\nwhere he has projected the eternal conflict between good and evil into\nthe silence and darkness by which our lives are shut in on every side.\n\n\nV.\n\nPlato had begun by condemning poetry only in so far as it was\ninconsistent with true religion and morality. At last, with his usual\npropensity to generalise, he condemned it and, by implication, every\nimitative art _qu\u00e2_ art, as a delusion and a sham, twice removed\nfrom the truth of things, because a copy of the phenomena which\nare themselves unreal representations of an archetypal idea. His\niconoclasm may remind us of other ethical theologians both before and\nafter, whether Hebrew, Moslem, or Puritan. If he does not share their\nfanatical hatred for plastic and pictorial representations, it is only\nbecause works of that class, besides being of a chaster character,\nexercised far less power over the Greek imagination than epic and\ndramatic poetry. Moreover, the tales of the poets were, according\nto Plato, the worst lies of any, since they were believed to be\ntrue; whereas statues and pictures differed too obviously from their\noriginals for any such illusion to be produced in their case. Like the\nPuritans, again, Plato sanctioned the use of religious hymns, with the\naccompaniment of music in its simplest and most elevated forms. Like\nthem, also, he would have approved of literary fiction when it was\nemployed for edifying purposes. Works like the _Faery Queen_, _Paradise\nLost_, and the _Pilgrim\u2019s Progress_, would have been his favourites in\nEnglish literature; and he might have extended the same indulgence to\nfictions of the Edgeworthian type, where the virtuous characters always\ncome off best in the end.\n\nThe reformed system of education was to be not only moral and religious\nbut also severely scientific. The place given to mathematics as the\nfoundation of a right intellectual training is most remarkable, and\nshows how truly Plato apprehended the conditions under which knowledge\nis acquired and enlarged. Here, as in other respects, he is, more\neven than Aristotle, the precursor of Auguste Comte. He arranges the\nmathematical sciences, so far as they then existed, in their logical\norder; and his remarks on the most general ideas suggested by astronomy\nread like a divination of rational mechanics. That a recommendation of\nsuch studies should be put into the mouth of Socrates is a striking\nincongruity. The older Plato grew the farther he seems to have advanced\nfrom the humanist to the naturalistic point of view; and, had he been\nwilling to confess it, Hippias and Prodicus were the teachers with whom\nhe finally found himself most in sympathy.\n\nMacaulay has spoken as if the Platonic philosophy was totally unrelated\nto the material wants of men. This, however, is a mistake. It is true\nthat, in the _Republic_, science is not regarded as an instrument for\nheaping up fresh luxuries, or for curing the diseases which luxury\nbreeds; but only because its purpose is held to be the discovery of\nthose conditions under which a healthy, happy, and virtuous race can\nbest be reared. The art of the true statesman is to weave the web of\nlife with perfect skill, to bring together those couples from whose\nunion the noblest progeny shall issue; and it is only by mastering the\nlaws of the physical universe that this art can be acquired. Plato knew\nno natural laws but those of mathematics and astronomy; consequently,\nhe set far too much store on the times and seasons at which bride and\nbridegroom were to meet, and on the numerical ratios by which they\nwere supposed to be determined. He even tells us about a mysterious\nformula for discovering the nuptial number, by which the ingenuity of\ncommentators has been considerably exercised. The true laws by which\nmarriage should be regulated among a civilised people have remained\nwrapped in still more impenetrable darkness. Whatever may be the best\nsolution, it can hardly fail to differ in many respects from our\npresent customs. It cannot be right that the most important act in\nthe life of a human being should be determined by social ambition, by\navarice, by vanity, by pique, or by accident\u2014in a word, by the most\ncontemptible impulses of which human nature is susceptible; nor is\nit to be expected that sexual selection will always necessitate the\nemployment of insincerity, adulation, and bribery by one of the parties\nconcerned, while fostering in the other credulity, egoism, jealousy,\ncapriciousness, and petty tyranny\u2014the very qualities which a wise\ntraining would have for its object to root out.[145]\n\nIt seems difficult to reconcile views about marriage involving\na recognition of the fact that mental and moral qualities are\nhereditarily transmitted, with the belief in metempsychosis elsewhere\nprofessed by Plato. But perhaps his adhesion to the latter doctrine\nis not to be taken very seriously. In imitation of the objective\nworld, whose essential truth is half hidden and half disclosed by\nits phenomenal manifestations, he loves to present his speculative\nteaching under a mythical disguise; and so he may have chosen the\nold doctrine of transmigration as an apt expression for the unity\nand continuity of life. And, at worst, he would not be guilty of any\ngreater inconsistency than is chargeable to those modern philosophers\nwho, while they admit that mental qualities are inherited, hold each\nindividual soul to be a separate and independent creation.\n\nThe rules for breeding and education set forth in the _Republic_\nare not intended for the whole community, but only for the ruling\nminority. It was by the corruption of the higher classes that Plato was\nmost distressed, and the salvation of the State depended, according\nto him, on their reformation. This leads us on to his scheme for\nthe reconstitution of society. It is intimately connected with his\nmethod of logical definition and classification. He shows with great\nforce that the collective action of human beings is conditioned by\nthe division of labour; and argues from this that every individual\nought, in the interest of the whole, to be restricted to a single\noccupation. Therefore, the industrial classes, who form the bulk of\nthe population, are to be excluded both from military service and\nfrom political power. The Peloponnesian War had led to a general\nsubstitution of professional soldiers for the old levies of untrained\ncitizens in Greek warfare. Plato was deeply impressed by the dangers,\nas well as by the advantages, of this revolution. That each profession\nshould be exercised only by persons trained for it, suited his notions\nalike as a logician, a teacher, and a practical reformer. But he saw\nthat mercenary fighters might use their power to oppress and plunder\nthe defenceless citizens, or to establish a military despotism. And,\nholding that government should, like strategy, be exercised only by\nfunctionaries naturally fitted and expressly trained for the work, he\nsaw equally that a privileged class would be tempted to abuse their\nposition in order to fill their pockets and to gratify their passions.\nHe proposed to provide against these dangers, first by the new system\nof education already described, and secondly by pushing the division\nof labour to its logical conclusion. That they might the better attend\nto their specific duties, the defenders and the rulers of the State\nwere not to practise the art of money-making; in other words, they were\nnot to possess any property of their own, but were to be supported\nby the labour of the industrial classes. Furthermore, that they need\nnot quarrel among themselves, he proposed that every private interest\nshould be eliminated from their lives, and that they should, as a\nclass, be united by the closest bonds of family affection. This purpose\nwas to be effected by the abolition of marriage and of domesticity.\nThe couples chosen for breeding were to be separated when the object\nof their union had been attained; children were to be taken from their\nmothers immediately after birth and brought up at the expense and under\nthe supervision of the State. Sickly and deformed infants were to be\ndestroyed. Those who fell short of the aristocratic standard were to\nbe degraded, and their places filled up by the exceptionally gifted\noffspring of low-class parents. Members of the military and governing\ncaste were to address each other according to the kinship which might\npossibly exist between them. In the absence of home-employments, women\nwere to be, so far as possible, assimilated to men; to pass through the\nsame bodily and mental training; to be enrolled in the army; and, if\nthey showed the necessary capacity, to discharge the highest political\nfunctions. In this practical dialectic the identifying no less than\nthe differentiating power of logic is displayed, and displayed also in\ndefiance of common ideas, as in the modern classifications of zoology\nand botany. Plato introduces distinctions where they did not before\nexist, and annuls those which were already recognised. The sexes were\nto be assimilated, political life was to be identified with family\nlife, and the whole community was to present an exact parallel with the\nindividual soul. The ruling committee corresponded to reason, the army\nto passionate spirit, and the industrial classes to the animal desires;\nand each, in its perfect constitution, represented one of the cardinal\nvirtues as reinterpreted by Plato. Wisdom belonged to the ruling\npart, courage to the intermediate executive power, and temperance or\nobedience to the organs of material existence; while justice meant the\ngeneral harmony resulting from the fulfilment of their appropriate\nfunctions by all. We may add that the whole State reproduced the Greek\nfamily in a much deeper sense than Plato himself was aware of. For his\naristocracy represents the man, whose virtue, in the words of Gorgias,\nwas to \u2018administer the State;\u2019 and his industrial class takes the place\nof the woman, whose duty was \u2018to order her house, and keep what is\nindoors, and obey her husband.\u2019[146]\n\nSuch was the celebrated scheme by which Plato proposed to regenerate\nmankind. We have already taken occasion to show how it was connected\nwith his ethical and dialectical philosophy. We have now to consider\nin what relation it stands to the political experience of his own\nand other times, as well as to the revolutionary proposals of other\nspeculative reformers.\n\n\nVI.\n\nAccording to Hegel,[147] the Platonic polity, so far from being an\nimpracticable dream, had already found its realisation in Greek life,\nand did but give a purer expression to the constitutive principle\nof every ancient commonwealth. There are, he tells us, three stages\nin the moral development of mankind. The first is purely objective.\nIt represents a r\u00e9gime where rules of conduct are entirely imposed\nfrom without; they are, as it were, embodied in the framework of\nsociety; they rest, not on reason and conscience, but on authority\nand tradition; they will not suffer themselves to be questioned,\nfor, being unproved, a doubt would be fatal to their very existence.\nHere the individual is completely sacrificed to the State; but in\nthe second or subjective stage he breaks loose, asserting the right\nof his private judgment and will as against the established order\nof things. This revolution was, still according to Hegel, begun by\nthe Sophists and Socrates. It proved altogether incompatible with\nthe spirit of Greek civilisation, which it ended by shattering to\npieces. The subjective principle found an appropriate expression in\nChristianity, which attributes an infinite importance to the individual\nsoul; and it appears also in the political philosophy of Rousseau.\nWe may observe that it corresponds very nearly to what Auguste Comte\nmeant by the metaphysical period. The modern State reconciles both\nprinciples, allowing the individual his full development, and at the\nsame time incorporating him with a larger whole, where, for the first\ntime, he finds his own reason fully realised. Now, Hegel looks on the\nPlatonic republic as a reaction against the subjective individualism,\nthe right of private judgment, the self-seeking impulse, or whatever\nelse it is to be called, which was fast eating into the heart of Greek\ncivilisation. To counteract this fatal tendency, Plato goes back to\nthe constitutive principle of Greek society\u2014that is to say, the\nomnipotence, or, in Benthamite parlance, omnicompetence, of the State;\nexhibiting it, in ideal perfection, as the suppression of individual\nliberty under every form, more especially the fundamental forms of\nproperty, marriage, and domestic life.\n\nIt seems to us that Hegel, in his anxiety to crush every historical\nprocess into the narrow symmetry of a favourite metaphysical formula,\nhas confounded several entirely distinct conceptions under the common\nname of subjectivity. First, there is the right of private judgment,\nthe claim of each individual to have a voice in the affairs of the\nState, and to have the free management of his own personal concerns.\nBut this, so far from being modern, is one of the oldest customs\nof the Aryan race; and perhaps, could we look back to the oldest\nhistory of other races now despotically governed, we should find it\nprevailing among them also. It was no new nor unheard-of privilege that\nRousseau vindicated for the peoples of his own time, but their ancient\nbirthright, taken from them by the growth of a centralised military\nsystem, just as it had been formerly taken from the city communities of\nthe Graeco-Roman world. In this respect, Plato goes against the whole\nspirit of his country, and no period of its development, not even the\nage of Homer, would have satisfied him.\n\nWe have next the disposition of individuals, no longer to interfere in\nmaking the law, but to override it, or to bend it into an instrument\nfor their own purposes. Doubtless there existed such a tendency in\nPlato\u2019s time, and his polity was very largely designed to hold it\nin check. But such unprincipled ambition was nothing new in Greece,\nhowever the mode of its manifestations might vary. What had formerly\nbeen seized by armed violence was now sought after with the more subtle\nweapons of rhetorical skill; just as at the present moment, among these\nsame Greeks, it is the prize of parliamentary intrigue. The Cretan and\nSpartan institutions may very possibly have been designed with a view\nto checking this spirit of selfish lawlessness, by reducing private\ninterests to a minimum; and Plato most certainly had them in his mind\nwhen he pushed the same method still further; but those institutions\nwere not types of Hellenism as a whole, they only represented one, and\nthat a very abnormal, side of it. Plato borrowed some elements from\nthis quarter, but, as we shall presently show, he incorporated them\nwith others of a widely different character. Sparta was, indeed, on\nany high theory of government, not a State at all, but a robber-clan\nestablished among a plundered population whom they never tried or cared\nto conciliate. How little weight her rulers attributed to the interests\nof the State as such, was well exhibited during the Peloponnesian War,\nwhen political advantages of the utmost importance were surrendered\nin deference to the noble families whose kinsmen had been captured at\nSphact\u00earia, and whose sole object was to rescue them from the fate with\nwhich they were threatened by the Athenians as a means of extorting\nconcessions;\u2014conduct with which the refusal of Rome to ransom the\nsoldiers who had surrendered at Cannae may be instructively contrasted.\n\nWe have, thirdly, to consider a form of individualism directly opposed\nin character to those already specified. It is the complete withdrawal\nfrom public affairs for the sake of attending exclusively to one\u2019s\nprivate duties or pleasures. Such individualism is the characteristic\nweakness of conservatives, who are, by their very nature, the party\nof timidity and quiescence. To them was addressed the exhortation\nof Cato, _capessenda est respublica_. The two other forms of which\nwe have spoken are, on the contrary, diseases of liberalism. We see\nthem exemplified when the leaders of a party are harassed by the\nperpetual criticism of their professed supporters; or, again, when\nan election is lost because the votes of the Liberal electors are\ndivided among several candidates. But when a party\u2014generally the\nConservative party\u2014loses an election because its voters will not\ngo to the poll, that is owing to the lazy individualism which shuns\npolitical contests altogether. It was of this disease that the public\nlife of Athens really perished; and, so far, Hegel is on the right\ntrack; but although its action was more obviously and immediately fatal\nin antiquity, we are by no means safe from a repetition of the same\nexperience in modern society. Nor can it be said that Plato reacted\nagainst an evil which, in his eyes, was an evil only when it deprived\na very few properly-qualified persons of political supremacy. With\nregard to all others he proposed to sanction and systematise what was\nalready becoming a common custom\u2014namely, entire withdrawal from the\nadministration of affairs in peace and war. Hegel seems to forget\nthat it is only a single class, and that the smallest, in Plato\u2019s\nrepublic which is not allowed to have any private interests; while the\nindustrial classes, necessarily forming a large majority of the whole\npopulation, are not only suffered to retain their property and their\nfamilies, but are altogether thrown back for mental occupation on the\ninterests arising out of these. The resulting state of things would\nhave found its best parallel, not in old Greek city life, but in modern\nEurope, as it was between the Reformation and the French Revolution.\n\nThe three forms of individualism already enumerated do not exhaust\nthe general conception of subjectivity. According to Hegel, if we\nunderstand him aright, the most important aspect of the principle in\nquestion would be the philosophical side, the return of thought on\nitself, already latent in physical speculation, proclaimed by the\nSophists as an all-dissolving scepticism, and worked up into a theory\nof life by Socrates. That there was such a movement is, of course,\ncertain; but that it contributed perceptibly to the decay of old\nGreek morality, or that it was essentially opposed to the old Greek\nspirit, cannot, we think, be truly asserted. What has been already\nobserved of political liberty and of political unscrupulousness may be\nrepeated of intellectual inquisitiveness, rationalism, scepticism, or\nby whatever name the tendency in question is to be called\u2014it always\nwas, and still is, essentially characteristic of the Greek race. It\nmay very possibly have been a source of political disintegration at\nall times, but that it became so to a greater extent after assuming\nthe form of systematic speculation has never been proved. If the study\nof science, or the passion for intellectual gymnastics, drew men away\nfrom the duties of public life, it was simply as one more private\ninterest among many, just like feasting, or lovemaking, or travelling,\nor poetry, or any other of the occupations in which a wealthy Greek\ndelighted; not from any intrinsic incompatibility with the duties of a\nstatesman or a soldier. So far, indeed, was this from being true, that\nliberal studies, even of the abstrusest order, were pursued with every\nadvantage to their patriotic energy by such citizens as Zeno, Melissus,\nEmpedocles, and, above all, by Pericles and Epameinondas. If Socrates\nstood aloof from public business it was that he might have more leisure\nto train others for its proper performance; and he himself, when called\nupon to serve the State, proved fully equal to the emergency. As for\nthe Sophists, it is well known that their profession was to give young\nmen the sort of education which would enable them to fill the highest\npolitical offices with honour and advantage. It is true that such a\nspecial preparation would end by throwing increased difficulties in\nthe way of a career which it was originally intended to facilitate, by\nraising the standard of technical proficiency in statesmanship; and\nthat many possible aspirants would, in consequence, be driven back\non less arduous pursuits. But Plato was so far from opposing this\nspecialisation that he wished to carry it much farther, and to make\ngovernment the exclusive business of a small class who were to be\nphysiologically selected and to receive an education far more elaborate\nthan any that the Sophists could give. If, however, we consider Plato\nnot as the constructor of a new constitution but in relation to the\npolitics of his own time, we must admit that his whole influence was\nused to set public affairs in a hateful and contemptible light. So far,\ntherefore, as philosophy was represented by him, it must count for a\ndisintegrating force. But in just the same degree we are precluded from\nassimilating his idea of a State to the old Hellenic model. We must\nrather say, what he himself would have said, that it never was realised\nanywhere; although, as we shall presently see, a certain approach to it\nwas made in the Middle Ages.\n\nOnce more, looking at the whole current of Greek philosophy, and\nespecially the philosophy of mind, are we entitled to say that it\nencouraged, if it did not create, those other forms of individualism\nalready defined as mutinous criticism on the part of the people, and\nselfish ambition on the part of its chiefs? Some historians have\nmaintained that there was such a connexion, operating, if not directly,\nat least through a chain of intermediate causes. Free thought destroyed\nreligion, with religion fell morality, and with morality whatever\nrestraints had hitherto kept anarchic tendencies of every description\nwithin bounds. These are interesting reflections; but they do not\nconcern us here, for the issue raised by Hegel is entirely different.\nIt matters nothing to him that Socrates was a staunch defender of\nsupernaturalism and of the received morality. The essential antithesis\nis between the Socratic introspection and the Socratic dialectics on\nthe one side, and the unquestioned authority of ancient institutions\non the other. If this be what Hegel means, we must once more record\nour dissent. We cannot admit that the philosophy of subjectivity, so\ninterpreted, was a decomposing ferment; nor that the spirit of Plato\u2019s\nrepublic was, in any case, a protest against it. The Delphic precept,\n\u2018Know thyself,\u2019 meant in the mouth of Socrates: Let every man find out\nwhat work he is best fitted for, and stick to that, without meddling in\nmatters for which he is not qualified. The Socratic dialectic meant:\nLet the whole field of knowledge be similarly studied; let our ideas\non all subjects be so systematised that we shall be able to discover\nat a moment\u2019s notice the bearing of any one of them on any of the\nothers, or on any new question brought up for decision. Surely nothing\ncould well be less individualistic, in a bad sense, less anti-social,\nless anarchic than this. Nor does Plato oppose, he generalises his\nmaster\u2019s principles; he works out the psychology and dialectic of\nthe whole state; and if the members of his governing class are not\npermitted to have any separate interests in their individual capacity,\neach individual soul is exalted to the highest dignity by having\nthe community reorganised on the model of its own internal economy.\nThere are no violent peripeteias in this great drama of thought, but\neverywhere harmony, continuity, and gradual development.\n\nWe have entered at some length into Hegel\u2019s theory of the _Republic_,\nbecause it seems to embody a misleading conception not only of Greek\npolitics but also of the most important attempt at a social reformation\never made by one man in the history of philosophy. Thought would be\nmuch less worth studying if it only reproduced the abstract form of\na very limited experience, instead of analysing and recombining the\nelements of which that experience is composed. And our faith in the\npower of conscious efforts towards improvement will very much depend on\nwhich side of the alternative we accept.\n\nZeller, while taking a much wider view than Hegel, still assumes that\nPlato\u2019s reforms, so far as they were suggested by experience, were\nsimply an adaptation of Dorian practices.[148] He certainly succeeds\nin showing that private property, marriage, education, individual\nliberty, and personal morality were subjected, at least in Sparta, to\nmany restrictions resembling those imposed in the Platonic state. And\nPlato himself, by treating the Spartan system as the first form of\ndegeneration from his own ideal, seems to indicate that this of all\nexisting polities made the nearest approach to it. The declarations of\nthe _Timaeus_[149] are, however, much more distinct; and according to\nthem it was in the caste-divisions of Egypt that he found the nearest\nparallel to his own scheme of social reorganisation. There, too, the\npriests, or wise men came first, and after them the warriors, while\nthe different branches of industry were separated from one another by\nrigid demarcations. He may also have been struck by that free admission\nof women to employments elsewhere filled exclusively by men, which so\nsurprised Herodotus, from his inability to discern its real cause\u2014the\nmore advanced differentiation of Egyptian as compared with Greek\nsociety.[150]\n\n\nVII.\n\nBut a profounder analysis of experience is necessary before we can come\nto the real roots of Plato\u2019s scheme. It must be remembered that our\nphilosopher was a revolutionist of the most thorough-going description,\nthat he objected not to this or that constitution of his time, but to\nall existing constitutions whatever. Now, every great revolutionary\nmovement, if in some respects an advance and an evolution, is in other\nrespects a retrogression and a dissolution. When the most complex forms\nof political association are broken up, the older or subordinate forms\nsuddenly acquire new life and meaning. What is true of practice is\ntrue also of speculation. Having broken away from the most advanced\ncivilisation, Plato was thrown back on the spontaneous organisation of\nindustry, on the army, the school, the family, the savage tribe, and\neven the herd of cattle, for types of social union. It was by taking\nsome hints from each of these minor aggregates that he succeeded in\nbuilding up his ideal polity, which, notwithstanding its supposed\nsimplicity and consistency, is one of the most heterogeneous ever\nframed. The principles on which it rests are not really carried out\nto their logical consequences; they interfere with and supplement\none another. The restriction of political power to a single class is\navowedly based on the necessity for a division of labour. One man, we\nare told, can only do one thing well. But Plato should have seen that\nthe producer is not for that reason to be made a monopolist; and that,\nto borrow his own favourite example, shoes are properly manufactured\nbecause the shoemaker is kept in order by the competition of his rivals\nand by the freedom of the consumer to purchase wherever he pleases.\nAthenian democracy, so far from contradicting the lessons of political\neconomy, was, in truth, their logical application to government. The\npeople did not really govern themselves, nor do they in any modern\ndemocracy, but they listened to different proposals, just as they might\nchoose among different articles in a shop or different tenders for\nbuilding a house, accepted the most suitable, and then left it to be\ncarried out by their trusted agents.\n\nAgain, Plato is false to his own rule when he selects his philosophic\ngovernors out of the military caste. If the same individual can be a\nwarrior in his youth and an administrator in his riper years, one\nman can do two things well, though not at the same time. If the same\nperson can be born with the qualifications both of a soldier and of\na politician, and can be fitted by education for each calling in\nsuccession, surely a much greater number can combine the functions of\na manual labourer with those of an elector. What prevented Plato from\nperceiving this obvious parallel was the tradition of the paterfamilias\nwho had always been a warrior in his youth; and a commendable\nanxiety to keep the army closely connected with the civil power. The\nanalogies of domestic life have also a great deal to do with his\nproposed community of women and children. Instead of undervaluing the\nfamily affections, he immensely overvalued them; as is shown by his\nsupposition that the bonds of consanguinity would prevent dissensions\nfrom arising among his warriors. He should have known that many a home\nis the scene of constant wrangling, and that quarrels between kinsfolk\nare the bitterest of any. Then, looking on the State as a great school,\nPlato imagined that the obedience, docility, and credulity of young\nscholars could be kept up through a lifetime; that full-grown citizens\nwould swallow the absurdest inventions; and that middle-aged officers\ncould be sent into retirement for several years to study dialectic. To\nsuppose that statesmen must necessarily be formed by the discipline\nin question is another scholastic trait. The professional teacher\nattributes far more practical importance to his abstruser lessons\nthan they really possess. He is not content to wait for the indirect\ninfluence which they may exert at some remote period and in combination\nwith forces of perhaps a widely different character. He looks for\nimmediate and telling results. He imagines that the highest truth\nmust have a mysterious power of transforming all things into its own\nlikeness, or at least of making its learners more capable than other\nmen of doing the world\u2019s work. Here also Plato, instead of being too\nlogical, was not logical enough. By following out the laws of economy,\nas applied to mental labour, he might have arrived at the separation\nof the spiritual and temporal powers, and thus anticipated the best\nestablished social doctrine of our time.\n\nWith regard to the propagation of the race, Plato\u2019s methods\nare avowedly borrowed from those practised by bird-fanciers,\nhorse-trainers, and cattle-breeders. It had long been a Greek custom to\ncompare the people to a flock of sheep and their ruler to a shepherd,\nphrases which still survive in ecclesiastical parlance. Socrates\nhabitually employed the same simile in his political discussions;\nand the rhetoricians used it as a justification of the governors\nwho enriched themselves at the expense of those committed to their\ncharge. Plato twisted the argument out of their hands and showed that\nthe shepherd, as such, studies nothing but the good of his sheep.\nHe failed to perceive that the parallel could not be carried out in\nevery detail, and that, quite apart from more elevated considerations,\nthe system which secures a healthy progeny in the one case cannot be\ntransferred to creatures possessing a vastly more complex and delicate\norganisation. The destruction of sickly and deformed children could\nonly be justified on the hypothesis that none but physical qualities\nwere of any value to the community. Our philosopher forgets his own\ndistinction between soul and body just when he most needed to remember\nit.\n\nThe position assigned to women by Plato may perhaps have seemed to\nhis contemporaries the most paradoxical of all his projects, and it\nhas been observed that here he is in advance even of our own age. But\na true conclusion may be deduced from false premises; and Plato\u2019s\nconclusion is not even identical with that reached on other grounds by\nthe modern advocates of women\u2019s rights, or rather of their equitable\nclaims. The author of the _Republic_ detested democracy; and the\nenfranchisement of women is now demanded as a part of the general\ndemocratic programme. It is an axiom, at least with liberals, that\nno class will have its interests properly attended to which is left\nwithout a voice in the election of parliamentary representatives;\nand the interests of the sexes are not more obviously identical than\nthose of producers and consumers, or of capitalists and labourers.\nAnother democratic principle is that individuals are, as a rule, the\nbest judges of what occupation they are fit for; and as a consequence\nof this it is further demanded that women should be admitted to every\nemployment on equal terms with men; leaving competition to decide in\neach instance whether they are suited for it or not. Their continued\nexclusion from the military profession would be an exception more\napparent than real; because, like the majority of the male sex, they\nare physically disqualified for it. Now, the profession of arms is\nthe very one for which Plato proposes to destine the daughters of his\naristocratic caste, without the least intention of consulting their\nwishes on the subject. He is perfectly aware that his own principle of\ndifferentiation will be quoted against him, but he turns the difficulty\nin a very dexterous manner. He contends that the difference of the\nsexes, so far as strength and intelligence are concerned, is one not\nof kind but of degree; for women are not distinguished from men by\nthe possession of any special aptitude, none of them being able to do\nanything that some men cannot do better. Granting the truth of this\nrather unflattering assumption, the inference drawn from it will still\nremain economically unsound. The division of labour requires that each\ntask should be performed, not by those who are absolutely, but by\nthose who are relatively, best fitted for it. In many cases we must be\ncontent with work falling short of the highest attainable standard,\nthat the time and abilities of the best workmen may be exclusively\ndevoted to functions for which they alone are competent. Even if women\ncould be trained to fight, it does not follow that their energies\nmight not be more advantageously expended in another direction. Here,\nagain, Plato improperly reasons from low to high forms of association.\nHe appeals to the doubtful example of nomadic tribes, whose women took\npart in the defence of the camps, and to the fighting power possessed\nby the females of predatory animals. In truth, the elimination of home\nlife left his women without any employment peculiar to themselves;\nand so, not to leave them completely idle, they were drafted into the\narmy, more with the hope of imposing on the enemy by an increase of\nits apparent strength than for the sake of any real service which they\nwere expected to perform.[151] When Plato proposes that women of proved\nability should be admitted to the highest political offices, he is far\nmore in sympathy with modern reformers; and his freedom from prejudice\nis all the more remarkable when we consider that no Greek lady (except,\nperhaps, Artemisia) is known to have ever displayed a talent for\ngovernment, although feminine interference in politics was common\nenough at Sparta; and that personally his feeling towards women was\nunsympathetic if not contemptuous.[152] Still we must not exaggerate\nthe importance of his concession. The Platonic polity was, after all,\na family rather than a true State; and that women should be allowed a\nshare in the regulation of marriage and in the nurture of children,\nwas only giving them back with one hand what had been taken away with\nthe other. Already, among ourselves, women have a voice in educational\nmatters; and were marriage brought under State control, few would doubt\nthe propriety of making them eligible to the new Boards which would be\ncharged with its supervision.\n\nThe foregoing analysis will enable us to appreciate the true\nsignificance of the resemblance pointed out by Zeller[153] between\nthe Platonic republic and the organisation of mediaeval society. The\nimportance given to religious and moral training; the predominance\nof the priesthood; the sharp distinction drawn between the military\ncaste and the industrial population; the exclusion of the latter from\npolitical power; the partial abolition of marriage and property;\nand, it might be added, the high position enjoyed by women as\nregents, ch\u00e2telaines, abbesses, and sometimes even as warriors or\nprofessors,\u2014are all innovations more in the spirit of Plato than\nin the spirit of Pericles. Three converging influences united to\nbring about this extraordinary verification of a philosophical deal.\nThe profound spiritual revolution effected by Greek thought was\ntaken up and continued by Catholicism, and unconsciously guided to\nthe same practical conclusions the teaching which it had in great\npart originally inspired. Social differentiation went on at the\nsame time, and led to the political consequences logically deduced\nfrom it by Plato. And the barbarian conquest of Rome brought in its\ntrain some of those more primitive habits on which his breach with\ncivilisation had equally thrown him back. Thus the coincidence between\nPlato\u2019s _Republic_ and mediaeval polity is due in one direction to\ncausal agency, in another to speculative insight, and in a third to\nparallelism of effects, independent of each other but arising out of\nanalogous conditions.\n\nIf, now, we proceed to compare the _Republic_ with more recent schemes\nhaving also for their object the identification of public with private\ninterests, nothing, at first sight, seems to resemble it so closely\nas the theories of modern Communism; especially those which advocate\nthe abolition not only of private property but also of marriage. The\nsimilarity, however, is merely superficial, and covers a radical\ndivergence, For, to begin with, the Platonic polity is not a system of\nCommunism at all, in our sense of the word. It is not that the members\nof the ruling caste are to throw their property into a common fund;\nneither as individuals nor as a class do they possess any property\nwhatever. Their wants are provided for by the industrial classes, who\napparently continue to live under the old system of particularism.\nWhat Plato had in view was not to increase the sum of individual\nenjoyments by enforcing an equal division of their material means, but\nto eliminate individualism altogether, and thus give human feeling the\nabsolute generality which he so much admired in abstract ideas. On the\nother hand, unless we are mistaken, modern Communism has no objection\nto private property as such, could it remain divided either with\nabsolute equality or in strict proportion to the wants of its holders;\nbut only as the inevitable cause of inequalities which advancing\ncivilisation seems to aggravate rather than to redress. So also with\nmarriage; the modern assailants of that institution object to it as a\nrestraint on the freedom of individual passion, which, according to\nthem, would secure the maximum of pleasure by perpetually varying its\nobjects. Plato would have looked on such reasonings as a parody and\nperversion of his own doctrine; as in very truth, what some of them\nhave professed to be, pleas for the rehabilitation of the flesh in its\noriginal supremacy over the spirit, and therefore the direct opposite\nof a system which sought to spiritualise by generalising the interests\nof life. And so, when in the _Laws_ he gives his Communistic principles\ntheir complete logical development by extending them to the whole\npopulation, he is careful to preserve their philosophical character as\nthe absorption of individual in social existence.[154]\n\nThe parentage of the two ideas will further elucidate their\nessentially heterogeneous character. For modern Communism is an\noutgrowth of the democratic tendencies which Plato detested; and\nas such had its counterpart in ancient Athens, if we may trust the\n_Eccl\u00easiazusae_ of Aristophanes, where also it is associated with\nunbridled licentiousness.[155] Plato, on the contrary, seems to have\nreceived the first suggestion of his Communism from the Pythagorean and\naristocratic confraternities of Southern Italy, where the principle\nthat friends have all things in common was an accepted maxim.\n\nIf Plato stands at the very antipodes of Fourier and St. Simon, he is\nconnected by a real relationship with those thinkers who, like Auguste\nComte and Mr. Herbert Spencer, have based their social systems on a\nwide survey of physical science and human history. It is even probable\nthat his ideas have exercised a decided though not a direct influence\non the two writers whom we have named. For Comte avowedly took many of\nhis proposed reforms from the organisation of mediaeval Catholicism,\nwhich was a translation of philosophy into dogma and discipline, just\nas Positivism is a re-translation of theology into the human thought\nfrom which it sprang. And Mr. Spencer\u2019s system, while it seems to be\nthe direct antithesis of Plato\u2019s, might claim kindred with it through\nthe principle of differentiation and integration, which, after passing\nfrom Greek thought into political economy and physiology, has been\nrestored by our illustrious countryman to something more than its\noriginal generality. It has also to be observed that the application of\nvery abstract truths to political science needs to be most jealously\nguarded, since their elasticity increases in direct proportion to\ntheir width. When one thinker argues from the law of increasing\nspecialisation to a vast extension of governmental interference with\npersonal liberty, and another thinker to its restriction within the\nnarrowest possible limits, it seems time to consider whether experience\nand expediency are not, after all, the safest guides to trust.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nThe social studies through which we have accompanied Plato seem to have\nreacted on his more abstract speculations, and to have largely modified\nthe extreme opposition in which these had formerly stood to current\nnotions, whether of a popular or a philosophical character. The change\nfirst becomes perceptible in his theory of Ideas. This is a subject on\nwhich, for the sake of greater clearness, we have hitherto refrained\nfrom entering; and that we should have succeeded in avoiding it so long\nwould seem to prove that the doctrine in question forms a much less\nimportant part of his philosophy than is commonly imagined. Perhaps,\nas some think, it was not an original invention of his own, but was\nborrowed from the Megarian school; and the mythical connexion in which\nit frequently figures makes us doubtful how far he ever thoroughly\naccepted it. The theory is, that to every abstract name or conception\nof the mind there corresponds an objective entity possessing a separate\nexistence quite distinct from that of the scattered particulars by\nwhich it is exemplified to our senses or to our imagination. Just as\nthe Heracleitean flux represented the confusion of which Socrates\nconvicted his interlocutors, so also did these Ideas represent the\ndefinitions by which he sought to bring method and certainty into\ntheir opinions. It may be that, as Grote suggests, Plato adopted this\nhypothesis in order to escape from the difficulty of defining common\nnotions in a satisfactory manner. It is certain that his earliest\nDialogues seem to place true definitions beyond the reach of human\nknowledge. And at the beginning of Plato\u2019s constructive period we\nfind the recognition of abstract conceptions, whether mathematical or\nmoral, traced to the remembrance of an ante-natal state, where the soul\nheld direct converse with the transcendent realities to which those\nconceptions correspond. Justice, temperance, beauty, and goodness, are\nespecially mentioned as examples of Ideas revealed in this manner.\nSubsequent investigations must, however, have led Plato to believe\nthat the highest truths are to be found by analysing not the loose\ncontents but the fixed forms of consciousness; and that, if each virtue\nexpressed a particular relation between the various parts of the soul,\nno external experience was needed to make her acquainted with its\nmeaning; still less could conceptions arising out of her connexion with\nthe material world be explained by reference to a sphere of purely\nspiritual existence. At the same time, innate ideas would no longer be\nrequired to prove her incorporeality, when the authority of reason over\nsense furnished so much more satisfactory a ground for believing the\ntwo to be of different origin. To all who have studied the evolution\nof modern thought, the substitution of Kantian forms for Cartesian\nideas will at once elucidate and confirm our hypothesis of a similar\nreformation in Plato\u2019s metaphysics.\n\nAgain, the new position occupied by Mind as an intermediary between\nthe world of reality and the world of appearance, tended more and more\nto obliterate or confuse the demarcations by which they had hitherto\nbeen separated. The most general headings under which it was usual to\ncontrast them were, the One and the Many, Being and Nothing, the Same\nand the Different, Rest and Motion. Parmenides employed the one set of\nterms to describe his Absolute, and the other to describe the objects\nof vulgar belief. They also served respectively to designate the wise\nand the ignorant, the dialectician and the sophist, the knowledge\nof gods and the opinions of men; besides offering points of contact\nwith the antithetical couples of Pythagoreanism. But Plato gradually\nfound that the nature of Mind could not be understood without taking\nboth points of view into account. Unity and plurality, sameness and\ndifference, equally entered into its composition; although undoubtedly\nbelonging to the sphere of reality, it was self-moved and the cause\nof all motion in other things. The dialectic or classificatory method,\nwith its progressive series of differentiations and assimilations, also\ninvolved a continual use of categories which were held to be mutually\nexclusive. And on proceeding to an examination of the summa genera, the\nhighest and most abstract ideas which it had been sought to distinguish\nby their absolute purity and simplicity from the shifting chaos of\nsensible phenomena, Plato discovered that even these were reduced\nto a maze of confusion and contradiction by a sincere application\nof the cross-examining elenchus. For example, to predicate being of\nthe One was to mix it up with a heterogeneous idea and let in the\nvery plurality which it denied. To distinguish them was to predicate\ndifference of both, and thus open the door to fresh embarrassments.\n\nFinally, while the attempt to attain extreme accuracy of definition was\nleading to the destruction of all thought and all reality within the\nSocratic school, the dialectic method had been taken up and parodied\nin a very coarse style by a class of persons called Eristics. These\nmen had, to some extent, usurped the place of the elder Sophists\nas paid instructors of youth; but their only accomplishment was to\nupset every possible assertion by a series of verbal juggles. One of\ntheir favourite paradoxes was to deny the reality of falsehood on the\nParmenidean principle that \u2018nothing cannot exist.\u2019 Plato satirises\ntheir method in the _Euthyd\u00eamus_, and makes a much more serious\nattempt to meet it in the _Sophist_; two Dialogues which seem to have\nbeen composed not far from one another.[156] The _Sophist_ effects a\nconsiderable simplification in the ideal theory by resolving negation\ninto difference, and altogether omitting the notions of unity and\nplurality,\u2014perhaps as a result of the investigations contained in the\n_Parmenides_, another dialogue belonging to the same group, where the\ncouple referred to are analysed with great minuteness, and are shown to\nbe infected with numerous self-contradictions. The remaining five ideas\nof Existence, Sameness, Difference, Rest, and Motion, are allowed to\nstand; but the fact of their inseparable connexion is brought out with\ngreat force and clearness. The enquiry is one of considerable interest,\nincluding, as it does, the earliest known analysis of predication,\nand forming an indispensable link in the transition from Platonic to\nAristotelian logic\u2014that is to say, from the theory of definition and\nclassification to the theory of syllogism.\n\nOnce the Ideas had been brought into mutual relation and shown to be\ncompounded with one another, the task of connecting them with the\nexternal world became considerably easier; and the same intermediary\nwhich before had linked them to it as a participant in the nature of\nboth, was now raised to a higher position and became the efficient\ncause of their intimate union. Such is the standpoint of the\n_Phil\u00eabus_, where all existence is divided into four classes, the\nlimit, the unlimited, the union of both, and the cause of their union.\nMind belongs to the last and matter to the second class. There can\nhardly be a doubt that the first class is either identical with the\nIdeas or fills the place once occupied by them. The third class is the\nworld of experience, the Cosmos of early Greek thought, which Plato\nhad now come to look on as a worthy object of study. In the _Timaeus_,\nalso a very late Dialogue, he goes further, and gives us a complete\ncosmogony, the general conception of which is clear enough, although\nthe details are avowedly conjectural and figurative; nor do they seem\nto have exercised any influence or subsequent speculation until the\ntime of Descartes. We are told that the world was created by God,\nwho is absolutely good, and, being without jealousy, wished that all\nthings should be like himself. He makes it to consist of a soul and\na body, the former constructed in imitation of the eternal archetypal\nideas which now seem to be reduced to three\u2014Existence, Sameness, and\nDifference.[157] The soul of the world is formed by mixing these three\nelements together, and the body is an image of the soul. Sameness is\nrepresented by the starry sphere rotating on its own axis; Difference\nby the inclination of the ecliptic to the equator; Existence, perhaps,\nby the everlasting duration of the heavens. The same analogy extends\nto the human figure, of which the head is the most essential part, all\nthe rest of the body being merely designed for its support. Plato seems\nto regard the material world as a sort of machinery designed to meet\nthe necessities of sight and touch, by which the human soul arrives\nat a knowledge of the eternal order without;\u2014a direct reversal of\nhis earlier theories, according to which matter and sense were mere\nencumbrances impeding the soul in her efforts after truth.\n\nWhat remains of the visible world after deducting its ideal elements is\npure space. This, which to some seems the clearest of all conceptions,\nwas to Plato one of the obscurest. He can only describe it as the\nformless substance out of which the four elements, fire, air, water,\nand earth, are differentiated. It closes the scale of existence and\neven lies half outside it, just as the Idea of Good in the _Republic_\ntranscends the same scale at the other end. We may conjecture that\nthe two principles are opposed as absolute self-identity and absolute\nself-separation; the whole intermediate series of forms serving\nto bridge over the interval between them. It will then be easy to\nunderstand how, as Aristotle tells us, Plato finally came to adopt the\nPythagorean nomenclature and designated his two generating principles\nas the monad and the indefinite dyad. Number was formed by their\ncombination, and all other things were made out of number. Aristotle\ncomplains that the Platonists had turned philosophy into mathematics;\nand perhaps in the interests of science it was fortunate that the\ntransformation occurred. To suppose that matter could be built up out\nof geometrical triangles, as Plato teaches in the _Timaeus_, was,\nno doubt, a highly reprehensible confusion; but that the systematic\nstudy of science should be based on mathematics was an equally new and\nimportant aper\u00e7u. The impulse given to knowledge followed unforeseen\ndirections; and at a later period Plato\u2019s true spirit was better\nrepresented by Archimedes and Hipparchus than by Arcesilaus and\nCarneades.\n\nIt is remarkable that the spontaneous development of Greek thought\nshould have led to a form of Theism not unlike that which some persons\nstill imagine was supernaturally revealed to the Hebrew race; for the\nabsence of any connexion between the two is now almost universally\nadmitted. Modern science has taken up the attitude of Laplace towards\nthe hypothesis in question; and those critics who, like Lange, are most\nimbued with the scientific spirit, feel inclined to regard its adoption\nby Plato as a retrograde movement. We may to a certain extent agree\nwith them, without admitting that philosophy, as a whole, was injured\nby departing from the principles of Democritus. An intellectual like\nan animal organism may sometimes have to choose between retrograde\nmetamorphosis and total extinction. The course of events drove\nspeculation to Athens, where it could only exist on the condition of\nassuming a theological form. Moreover, action and reaction were equal\nand contrary. Mythology gained as much as philosophy lost. It was\npurified from immoral ingredients, and raised to the highest level\nwhich supernaturalism is capable of attaining. If the _Republic_ was\nthe forerunner of the Catholic Church, the _Timaeus_ was the forerunner\nof the Catholic faith.\n\n\nIX.\n\nThe old age of Plato seems to have been marked by restless activity\nin more directions than one. He began various works which were never\nfinished, and projected others which were never begun. He became\npossessed by a devouring zeal for social reform. It seemed to him that\nnothing was wanting but an enlightened despot to make his ideal State\na reality. According to one story, he fancied that such an instrument\nmight be found in the younger Dionysius. If so, his expectations were\nspeedily disappointed. As Hegel acutely observes, only a man of half\nmeasures will allow himself to be guided by another; and such a man\nwould lack the energy needed to carry out Plato\u2019s scheme.[158] However\nthis may be, the philosopher does not seem to have given up his idea\nthat absolute monarchy was, after all, the government from which most\ngood might be expected. A process of substitution which runs through\nhis whole intellectual evolution was here exemplified for the last\ntime. Just as in his ethical system knowledge, after having been\nregarded solely as the means for procuring an ulterior end, pleasure,\nsubsequently became an end in itself; just as the interest in knowledge\nwas superseded by a more absorbing interest in the dialectical\nmachinery which was to facilitate its acquisition, and this again by\nthe social re-organisation which was to make education a department of\nthe State; so also the beneficent despotism originally invoked for the\npurpose of establishing an aristocracy on the new model, came at last\nto be regarded by Plato as itself the best form of government. Such,\nat least, seems to be the drift of a remarkable Dialogue called the\n_Statesman_, which we agree with Prof. Jowett in placing immediately\nbefore the _Laws_. Some have denied its authenticity, and others have\nplaced it very early in the entire series of Platonic compositions.\nBut it contains passages of such blended wit and eloquence that no\nother man could have written them; and passages so destitute of life\nthat they could only have been written when his system had stiffened\ninto mathematical pedantry and scholastic routine. Moreover, it seems\ndistinctly to anticipate the scheme of detailed legislation which Plato\nspent his last years in elaborating. After covering with ridicule the\nnotion that a truly competent ruler should ever be hampered by written\nenactments, the principal spokesman acknowledges that, in the absence\nof such a ruler, a definite and unalterable code offers the best\nguarantees for political stability.\n\nThis code Plato set himself to construct in his last and longest work,\nthe _Laws_. Less than half of that Dialogue, however, is occupied\nwith the details of legislation. The remaining portions deal with the\nfamiliar topics of morality, religion, science, and education. The\nfirst book propounds a very curious theory of asceticism, which has\nnot, we believe, been taken up by any subsequent moralist. On the\nprinciple of _in vino veritas_ Plato proposes that drunkenness should\nbe systematically employed for the purpose of testing self-control.\nTrue temperance is not abstinence, but the power of resisting\ntemptation; and we can best discover to what extent any man possesses\nthat power by surprising him when off his guard. If he should be\nproof against seductive influences even when in his cups, we shall\nbe doubly sure of his constancy at other times. Prof. Jowett rather\nmaliciously suggests that a personal proclivity may have suggested\nthis extraordinary apology for hard drinking. Were it so, we should be\nreminded of the successive revelations by which indulgences of another\nkind were permitted to Mohammed, and of the one case in which divorce\nwas sanctioned by Auguste Comte. We should also remember that the\nChristian Puritanism to which Plato approached so near has always been\nsingularly lenient to this disgraceful vice. But perhaps a somewhat\nhigher order of considerations will help us to a better understanding\nof the paradox. Plato was averse from rejecting any tendency of his\nage that could possibly be turned to account in his philosophy.\nHence, as we have seen, the use which he makes of love, even under\nits most unlawful forms, in the _Symposium_ and the _Phaedrus_. Now,\nit would appear, from our scanty sources of information, that social\nfestivities, always very popular at Athens, had become the chief\ninterest in life about the time when Plato was composing his _Laws_.\nAccording to one graceful legend, the philosopher himself breathed his\nlast at a marriage-feast. It may, therefore, have occurred to him that\nthe prevalent tendency could, like the amorous passions of a former\ngeneration, be utilised for moral training and made subservient to the\nvery cause with which, at first sight, it seemed to conflict.\n\nThe concessions to common sense and to contemporary schools of thought,\nalready pointed out in those Dialogues which we suppose to have been\nwritten after the _Republic_, are still more conspicuous in the _Laws_.\nWe do not mean merely the project of a political constitution avowedly\noffered as the best possible in existing circumstances, though not\nthe best absolutely; but we mean that there is throughout a desire to\npresent philosophy from its most intelligible, practical, and popular\nside. The extremely rigorous standard of sexual morality (p. 838)\nseems, indeed, more akin to modern than to ancient notions, but it was\nin all probability borrowed from the naturalistic school of ethics,\nthe forerunner of Stoicism; for not only is there a direct appeal to\nNature\u2019s teaching in that connexion; but throughout the entire work\nthe terms \u2018nature\u2019 and \u2018naturally\u2019 occur with greater frequency, we\nbelieve, than in all the rest of Plato\u2019s writings put together. When,\non the other hand, it is asserted that men can be governed by no other\nmotive than pleasure (p. 663, B), we seem to see in this declaration\na concession to the Cyrenaic school, as well as a return to the\nforsaken standpoint of the _Protagoras_. The increasing influence of\nPythagoreanism is shown by the exaggerated importance attributed to\nexact numerical determinations. The theory of ideas is, as Prof. Jowett\nobserves, entirely absent, its place being taken by the distinction\nbetween mind and matter.[159]\n\nThe political constitution and code of laws recommended by Plato to\nhis new city are adapted to a great extent from the older legislation\nof Athens. As such they have supplied the historians of ancient\njurisprudence with some valuable indications. But from a philosophic\npoint of view the general impression produced is wearisome and even\noffensive. A universal system of espionage is established, and the\nodious trade of informer receives ample encouragement. Worst of all,\nit is proposed, in the true spirit of Athenian intolerance, to uphold\nreligious orthodoxy by persecuting laws. Plato had actually come to\nthink that disagreement with the vulgar theology was a folly and a\ncrime. One passage may be quoted as a warning to those who would set\nearly associations to do the work of reason; and who would overbear new\ntruths by a method which at one time might have been used with fatal\neffect against their own opinions:\u2014\n\n Who can be calm when he is called upon to prove the existence of the\n gods? Who can avoid hating and abhorring the men who are and have been\n the cause of this argument? I speak of those who will not believe the\n words which they have heard as babes and sucklings from their mothers\n and nurses, repeated by them both in jest and earnest like charms;\n who have also heard and seen their parents offering up sacrifices and\n prayers\u2014sights and sounds delightful to children\u2014sacrificing, I say,\n in the most earnest manner on behalf of them and of themselves, and\n with eager interest talking to the gods and beseeching them as though\n they were firmly convinced of their existence; who likewise see and\n hear the genuflexions and prostrations which are made by Hellenes and\n barbarians to the rising and setting sun and moon, in all the various\n turns of good and evil fortune, not as if they thought that there\n were no gods, but as if there could be no doubt of their existence,\n and no suspicion of their non-existence; when men, knowing all these\n things, despise them on no real grounds, as would be admitted by all\n who have any particle of intelligence, and when they force us to say\n what we are now saying, how can any one in gentle terms remonstrate\n with the like of them, when he has to begin by proving to them the\n very existence of the gods?[160]\n\nLet it be remembered that the gods of whom Plato is speaking are the\nsun, moon, and stars; that the atheists whom he denounces only taught\nwhat we have long known to be true, which is that those luminaries\nare no more divine, no more animated, no more capable of accepting\nour sacrifices or responding to our cries than is the earth on which\nwe tread; and that he attempts to prove the contrary by arguments\nwhich, even if they were not inconsistent with all that we know about\nmechanics, would still be utterly inadequate to the purpose for which\nthey are employed.\n\nTurning back once more from the melancholy decline of a great genius\nto the splendour of its meridian prime, we will endeavour briefly\nto recapitulate the achievements which entitle Plato to rank among\nthe five or six greatest Greeks, and among the four or five greatest\nthinkers of all time. He extended the philosophy of mind until it\nembraced not only ethics and dialectics but also the study of politics,\nof religion, of social science, of fine art, of economy, of language,\nand of education. In other words, he showed how ideas could be applied\nto life on the most comprehensive scale. Further, he saw that the study\nof Mind, to be complete, necessitates a knowledge of physical phenomena\nand of the realities which underlie them; accordingly, he made a return\non the objective speculations which had been temporarily abandoned,\nthus mediating between Socrates and early Greek thought; while on\nthe other hand by his theory of classification he mediated between\nSocrates and Aristotle. He based physical science on mathematics, thus\nestablishing a method of research and of education which has continued\nin operation ever since. He sketched the outlines of a new religion in\nwhich morality was to be substituted for ritualism, and intelligent\nimitation of God for blind obedience to his will; a religion of\nmonotheism, of humanity, of purity, and of immortal life. And he\nembodied all these lessons in a series of compositions distinguished\nby such beauty of form that their literary excellence alone would\nentitle them to rank among the greatest masterpieces that the world\nhas ever seen. He took the recently-created instrument of prose style\nand at once raised it to the highest pitch of excellence that it has\never attained. Finding the new art already distorted by false taste and\noverlaid with meretricious ornament, he cleansed and regenerated it in\nthat primal fount of intellectual life, that richest, deepest, purest\nsource of joy, the conversation of enquiring spirits with one another,\nwhen they have awakened to the desire for truth and have not learned to\ndespair of its attainment. Thus it was that the philosopher\u2019s mastery\nof expression gave added emphasis to his protest against those who made\nstyle a substitute for knowledge, or, by a worse corruption, perverted\nit into an instrument of profitable wrong. They moved along the surface\nin a confused world of words, of sensations, and of animal desires;\nhe penetrated through all those dumb images and blind instincts,\nto the central verity and supreme end which alone can inform them\nwith meaning, consistency, permanence, and value. To conclude: Plato\nbelonged to that nobly practical school of idealists who master all the\ndetails of reality before attempting its reformation, and accomplish\ntheir great designs by enlisting and reorganising whatever spontaneous\nforces are already working in the same direction; but the fertility of\nwhose own suggestions it needs more than one millennium to exhaust.\nThere is nothing in heaven or earth that was not dreamt of in his\nphilosophy: some of his dreams have already come true; others still\nawait their fulfilment; and even those which are irreconcilable with\nthe demands of experience will continue to be studied with the interest\nattaching to every generous and daring adventure, in the spiritual no\nless than in the secular order of existence.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[134] See the chapter on the Metaphysics of Sexual Love in\nSchopenhauer\u2019s _Welt als Wille und Vorstellung_.\n\n[135] Cf. for the whole following passage Havet, _Le Christianisme et\nses Origines_, I., 286-8. It was, however, written before the author\nhad become acquainted with M. Havet\u2019s work.\n\n[136] In order to avoid misconception it may be as well to mention\nthat the above remarks apply only to mystical passion assuming the\nform of religion; they have nothing to do with intellectual and moral\nconvictions.\n\n[137] _Phaedr._, 266, B. Jowett, II., 144. According to Teichm\u00fcller\n(_Literarische Fehden im vierten Jahrhundert vor Chr._, p. 135)\u2014the\ngod here spoken of is no other than Plato himself. Even granting the\npantheistic interpretation of Platonism to be true, this seems a\nsomewhat strained application of it.\n\n[138] Adapting Plato\u2019s formula to modern ideas we might say: A literary\neducation: knowledge of the world: mathematics: physical science.\n\n[139] _Phaedo_, 69, A. Jowett, I., 442.\n\n[140] _Repub._, I., 348, B ff.; Zeller, _op. cit._, 507-8.\n\n[141] See especially the argument with Callicles in the _Gorgias_.\n\n[142] _Repub._, II., 379, A; 380, D.\n\n[143] Zeller, 678-8.\n\n[144] \u2018Un monde qui est l\u2019injustice m\u00eame.\u2019\u2014Ernest Renan, _L\u2019\u00c9glise\nChr\u00e9tienne_, p. 139.\n\n[145] Cf. _Lysis_, 210, E. Jowett, I., 54.\n\n[146] _Meno_, 71, E. Jowett, I., 270.\n\n[147] _Gesch. d. Ph._, II., 272.\n\n[148] _Op. cit._, p. 777.\n\n[149] _Timaeus_, 24, A. Jowett, III., 608.\n\n[150] Cf. the excellent remarks of Teichm\u00fcller, _Lit. Fehden_, p. 107.\n\n[151] _Repub._, V., 471, D.\n\n[152] He mentions as one of the worst effects of a democracy that it\nmade them assume airs of equality with men. _Repub._, 563, B.; cf. 569,\nE. _Timaeus_, 90, E. It is to be feared that Plato regarded woman as\nthe missing link.\n\n[153] In his _Vortr\u00e4ge und Abhandlungen_, first series, p. 68.\n\n[154] _Legg._, 739, B. Jowett, V., 311.\n\n[155] [Since the above was first published, Teichm\u00fcller has brought\nforward new arguments to prove that it was Plato\u2019s scheme of Communism\nwhich Aristophanes intended to satirise (_Lit. Fehden_, pp. 14, ff.);\nbut I do not think that even the first half of the _Republic_ could\npossibly have been composed at such an early date as that assigned to\nit by this learned and ingenious critic.]\n\n[156] [Here, also, the recent arguments of Teichm\u00fcller (_Lit. Fehden_,\np. 51) deserve attention, but they have failed to convince me that an\nearlier date should be assigned to the _Euthyd\u00eamus_.]\n\n[157] We may even say that they are reduced to two; for Existence is a\nproduct of Sameness and Difference.\n\n[158] _Gesch. d. Ph._, II., 175.\n\n[159] In the work already referred to, Teichm\u00fcller advances the\nstartling theory that Aristotle\u2019s _Nicomachean Ethics_ was published\nbefore the completion of the _Laws_, and that Plato took the\nopportunity thus offered him for replying to the criticisms of his\nformer pupil. (_Lit. Fehden_, pp. 194-226).\n\n[160] _Legg._, 887-8. Jowett, V., 456.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nCHARACTERISTICS OF ARISTOTLE.\n\n\nI.\n\nWithin the last twelve years several books, both large and small, have\nappeared, dealing either with the philosophy of Aristotle as a whole,\nor with the general principles on which it is constructed. The Berlin\nedition of Aristotle\u2019s collected works was supplemented in 1870 by\nthe publication of a magnificent index, filling nearly nine hundred\nquarto pages, for which we have to thank the learning and industry of\nBonitz.[161] Then came the unfinished treatise of George Grote, planned\non so vast a scale that it would, if completely carried out, have\nrivalled the author\u2019s _History of Greece_ in bulk, and perhaps exceeded\nthe authentic remains of the Stagirite himself. As it is, we have a\nfull account, expository and critical, of the _Organon_, a chapter on\nthe _De Anim\u00e2_, and some fragments on other Aristotelian writings, all\nmarked by Grote\u2019s wonderful sagacity and good sense. In 1879 a new and\ngreatly enlarged edition brought that portion of Zeller\u2019s work on Greek\nPhilosophy which deals with Aristotle and the Peripatetics[162] fully\nup to the level of its companion volumes; and we are glad to see that,\nlike them, it is shortly to appear in an English dress. The older work\nof Brandis[163] goes over the same ground, and, though much behind the\npresent state of knowledge, may still be consulted with advantage, on\naccount of its copious and clear analyses of the Aristotelian texts.\nTogether with these ponderous tomes, we have to mention the little\nwork of Sir Alexander Grant,[164] which, although intended primarily\nfor the unlearned, is a real contribution to Aristotelian scholarship,\nand, probably as such, received the honours of a German translation\nalmost immediately after its first publication. Mr. Edwin Wallace\u2019s\n_Outlines of the Philosophy of Aristotle_[165] is of a different\nand much less popular character. Originally designed for the use of\nthe author\u2019s own pupils, it does for Aristotle\u2019s entire system what\nTrendelenburg has done for his logic, and Ritter and Preller for all\nGreek philosophy\u2014that is to say, it brings together the most important\ntexts, and accompanies them with a remarkably lucid and interesting\ninterpretation. Finally we have M. Barth\u00e9lemy Saint-Hilaire\u2019s\nIntroduction to his translation of Aristotle\u2019s _Metaphysics_,\nrepublished in a pocket volume.[166] We can safely recommend it to\nthose who wish to acquire a knowledge of the subject with the least\npossible expenditure of trouble. The style is delightfully simple,\nand that the author should write from the standpoint of the French\nspiritualistic school is not altogether a disadvantage, for that school\nis partly of Aristotelian origin, and its adherents are, therefore,\nmost likely to reproduce the master\u2019s theories with sympathetic\nappreciation.\n\nIn view of such extensive labours, we might almost imagine ourselves\ntransported back to the times when Chaucer could describe a student as\nbeing made perfectly happy by having\n\n                  \u2018At his beddes hed\n    Twenty bookes clothed in blake or red\n    Of Aristotle and his philosophie.\u2019\n\nIt seems as if we were witnessing a revival of Mediaevalism under\nanother form; as if, after neo-Gothic architecture, pre-Raphaelitism,\nand ritualism, we were threatened with a return to the scholastic\nphilosophy which the great scientific reformers of the seventeenth\ncentury were supposed to have irrevocably destroyed. And, however\nchimerical may seem the hopes of such a restoration, we are bound\nto admit that they do actually exist. One of the most cultivated\nchampions of Ultramontanism in this country, Prof. St. George Mivart,\nnot long ago informed us, at the close of his work on _Contemporary\nEvolution_, that, \u2018if metaphysics are possible, there is not, and never\nwas or will be, more than one philosophy which, properly understood,\nunites all truths and eliminates all errors\u2014_the_ Philosophy of _the_\nPhilosopher\u2014Aristotle.\u2019 It may be mentioned also, as a symptom of\nthe same movement, that Leo XIII. has recently directed the works\nof St. Thomas Aquinas to be reprinted for use in Catholic colleges;\nhaving, according to the newspapers, laid aside 300,000 _lire_ for\nthat purpose\u2014a large sum, considering his present necessities; but\nnot too much for the republication of eighteen folio volumes. Now, it\nis well known that the philosophy of Aquinas is simply the philosophy\nof Aristotle, with such omissions and modifications as were necessary\nin order to piece it on to Christian theology. Hence, in giving his\nsanction to the teaching of the Angelic Doctor, Leo XIII. indirectly\ngives it to the source from which so much of that teaching is derived.\n\nIt may, perhaps, be considered natural that obsolete authorities\nshould command the assent of a Church whose boast is to maintain\nthe traditions of eighteen centuries intact. But the Aristotelian\nreaction extends to some who stand altogether aloof from Catholicism.\nM. Saint-Hilaire speaks in his preface of theology with dislike and\nsuspicion; he has recently held office in a bitterly anti-clerical\nGovernment; yet his acceptance of Aristotle\u2019s metaphysics is almost\nunreserved. The same tone is common to all official teaching in\nFrance; and any departure from the strict Peripatetic standard has to\nbe apologised for as if it were a dangerous heresy. On turning to our\nown country, we find, indeed, a marked change since the time when,\naccording to Mr. Matthew Arnold, Oxford tutors regarded the _Ethics_\nas absolutely infallible. The great place given to Plato in public\ninstruction, and the rapidly increasing ascendency of evolutionary\nideas, are at present enough to hold any rival authority in check;\nstill, not only are the once neglected portions of Aristotle\u2019s\nsystem beginning to attract fresh attention\u2014which is an altogether\ncommendable movement\u2014but we also find the eminent Oxford teacher,\nwhose work on the subject has been already referred to, expressing\nhimself as follows:\u2014\n\n We are still anxious to know whether our perception of a real world\n comes to us by an exercise of thought, or by a simple impression of\n sense\u2014whether it is the universal that gives the individual reality,\n or the individual that shapes itself, by some process not explained,\n into a universal\u2014whether bodily movements are the causal antecedents\n of mental functions, or mind rather the reality which gives truth\n to body\u2014whether the highest life is a life of thought or a life of\n action\u2014whether intellectual also involves moral progress\u2014whether\n the state is a mere combination for the preservation of goods and\n property, or a moral organism developing the idea of right. And\n about these and such like questions Aristotle has still much to tell\n us.... His theory of a creative reason, fragmentary as that theory is\n left, is the answer to all materialistic theories of the universe.\n To Aristotle, as to a subtle Scottish preacher [Principal Caird]\n \u2018the real pre-supposition of all knowledge, or the thought which is\n the _prius_ of all things, is not the individual\u2019s consciousness of\n himself as individual, but a thought or self-consciousness which is\n beyond all individual selves, which is the unity of all individual\n selves and their objects, of all thinkers and all objects of all\n thought.\u2019[167]\n\nOur critics are not content with bringing up Aristotle as an authority\non the metaphysical controversies of the present day, and reading into\nhim theories of which he never dreamed: they proceed to credit him\nwith modern opinions which he would have emphatically repudiated, and\nmodern methods which directly reverse his scientific teaching. Thus\nSir A. Grant takes advantage of an ambiguity in the word Matter, as\nused respectively by Aristotle and by contemporary writers, to claim\nhis support for the peculiar theories of Prof. Ferrier; although the\nStagirite has recorded his belief in the reality and independence of\nmaterial objects (if not of what he called matter) with a positiveness\nwhich one would have thought left no possibility of misunderstanding\nhim.[168] And Mr. Wallace says that Aristotle \u2018recognises the genesis\nof things by evolution and development;\u2019 a statement which, standing\nwhere it does, and with no more qualifications than are added to it,\nwould make any reader not versed in the subject think of the Stagirite\nrather as a forerunner of Mr. Darwin and Mr. Herbert Spencer, than as\nthe intellectual ancestor of their opponents; while, on a subsequent\noccasion, he quotes a passage about the variations of plants under\ndomestication, from a work considered to be un-Aristotelian by the best\ncritics, apparently with no other object than that of finding a piece\nof Darwinism in his author.[169]\n\nIn Germany, Neo-Aristotelianism has already lived out the appointed\nterm of all such movements; having, we believe, been brought into\nfashion by Trendelenburg about forty years ago. Since then, the\nAristotelian system in all its branches has been studied with such\nprofound scholarship that any illusions respecting its value for our\npresent needs must, by this time, have been completely dissipated;\nwhile the Hegelian dialectic, which it was originally intended to\ncombat, no longer requires a counterbalance, having been entirely\ndriven from German university teaching. Moreover, Lange\u2019s famous\n_History of Materialism_ has dealt a staggering blow to the reputation\nof Aristotle, not merely in itself, but relatively to the services of\nearly Greek thought; although Lange goes too far into the opposite\nextreme when exalting Democritus at his expense.[170] We have to\ncomplain, however, that Zeller and other historians of Greek philosophy\nstart with an invariable prejudice in favour of the later speculators\nas against the earlier, and especially in favour of Aristotle as\nagainst all his predecessors, even Plato included, which leads them\nto slur over his weak points, and to bring out his excellencies into\ndisproportionate relief.[171]\n\nIt is evident, then, that Aristotle cannot be approached with the same\nperfect dispassionateness as the other great thinkers of antiquity.\nHe is, if not a living force, still a force which must be reckoned\nwith in contemporary controversy. His admirers persist in making an\nauthority of him, or at least of quoting him in behalf of their own\nfavourite convictions. We are, therefore, bound to sift his claims\nwith a severity which would not be altogether gracious in a purely\nhistorical review. At the same time it is hoped that historical justice\nwill not lose, but gain, by such a procedure. We shall be the better\nable to understand what Aristotle was, after first showing what he\nneither was nor could be. And the utility of our investigations will be\nstill further enhanced if we can show that he represents a fixed type\nregularly recurring in the revolutions of thought.\n\n\nII.\n\nPersonally, we know more about Aristotle than about any other Greek\nphilosopher of the classic period; but what we know does not amount\nto much. It is little more than the skeleton of a life, a bald\nenumeration of names and dates and places, with a few more or less\ndoubtful anecdotes interspersed. These we shall now relate, together\nwith whatever inferences the facts seem to warrant. Aristotle was born\n384 B.C., at Stageira, a Greek colony in Thrace. It is remarkable\nthat every single Greek thinker of note, Socrates and Plato alone\nexcepted, came from the confines of Hellenedom and barbarism. It has\nbeen conjectured by Auguste Comte, we know not with how much reason,\nthat religious traditions were weaker in the colonies than in the\nparent states, and thus allowed freer play to independent speculation.\nPerhaps, also, the accumulation of wealth was more rapid, thus\naffording greater leisure for thought; while the pettiness of political\nlife liberated a fund of intellectual energy, which in more powerful\ncommunities might have been devoted to the service of the State. Left\nan orphan in early youth, Aristotle was brought up by one Proxenus,\nto whose son, Nicanor, he afterwards repaid the debt of gratitude. In\nhis eighteenth year he settled at Athens, and attended the school of\nPlato until the death of that philosopher twenty years afterwards. It\nis not clear whether the younger thinker was quite conscious of his\nvast intellectual debt to the elder, and he continually emphasises\nthe points on which they differ; but personally his feeling towards\nthe master was one of deep reverence and affection. In some beautiful\nlines, still extant, he speaks of \u2018an altar of solemn friendship\ndedicated to one of whom the bad should not speak even in praise;\nwho alone, or who first among mortals, proved by his own life and by\nhis system, that goodness and happiness go hand in hand;\u2019 and it is\ngenerally agreed that the reference can only be to Plato. Again, in\nhis _Ethics_, Aristotle expresses reluctance to criticise the ideal\ntheory, because it was held by dear friends of his own; adding the\nmemorable declaration, that to a philosopher truth should be dearer\nstill. What opinion Plato formed of his most illustrious pupil is less\ncertain. According to one tradition, he surnamed Aristotle the Nous of\nhis school. It could, indeed, hardly escape so penetrating an observer\nthat the omnivorous appetite for knowledge, which he regarded as most\nespecially characteristic of the philosophic temperament, possessed\nthis young learner to a degree never before paralleled among the\nsons of men. He may, however, have considered that the Stagirite\u2019s\nmethod of acquiring knowledge was unfavourable to its fresh and vivid\napprehension. An expression has been preserved which can hardly be\nother than genuine, so distinguished is it by that delicate mixture\nof compliment and satire in which Plato particularly excelled. He is\nsaid to have called Aristotle\u2019s house the \u2018house of the reader.\u2019 The\nauthor of the _Phaedrus_, himself a tolerably voluminous writer, was,\nlike Carlyle, not an admirer of literature. Probably it occurred to him\nthat a philosophical student, who had the privilege of listening to\nhis own lectures, might do better than shut himself up with a heap of\nmanuscripts, away from the human inspiration of social intercourse, and\nthe divine inspiration of solitary thought. We moderns have no reason\nto regret a habit which has made Aristotle\u2019s writings a storehouse\nof ancient speculations; but from a scientific, no less than from an\nartistic point of view, those works are overloaded with criticisms of\nearlier opinions, some of them quite undeserving of serious discussion.\n\nPhilosophy was no sooner domiciled at Athens than its professors came\nin for their full share of the scurrilous personalities which seem to\nhave formed the staple of conversation in that enlightened capital.\nAristotle, himself a trenchant and sometimes a bitterly scornful\ncontroversialist, did not escape; and some of the censures passed on\nhim were, rightly or wrongly, attributed to Plato. The Stagirite, who\nhad been brought up at or near the Macedonian Court, and had inherited\nconsiderable means, was, if report speaks truly, somewhat foppish in\nhis dress, and luxurious, if not dissipated in his habits. It would not\nbe surprising if one who was left his own master at so early an age had\nat first exceeded the limits of that moderation which he afterwards\ninculcated as the golden rule of morals; but the charge of extravagance\nwas such a stock accusation at Athens, where the continued influence of\ncountry life seems to have bred a prejudice in favour of parsimony,\nthat it may be taken almost as an exoneration from graver imputations;\nand, perhaps, an admonition from Plato, if any was needed, sufficed to\ncheck his disciple\u2019s ambition for figuring as a man of fashion.\n\nWe cannot tell to what extent the divergences which afterwards\nmade Plato and Aristotle pass for types of the most extreme\nintellectual opposition were already manifested during their personal\nintercourse.[172] The tradition is that the teacher compared his pupil\nto a foal that kicks his mother after draining her dry. There is a\ncertain rough truth as well as rough wit about the remark; but the\nauthor of the _Parmenides_ could hardly have been much affected by\ncriticisms on the ideal theory which he had himself reasoned out with\nequal candour and acuteness; and if, as we sometimes feel tempted to\nconjecture, those criticisms were first suggested to him by Aristotle\nin conversation, it will be still more evident that they were received\nwithout offence.[173]\n\nIn some respects, Aristotle began not only as a disciple but as\na champion of Platonism. On the popular side, that doctrine was\ndistinguished by its essentially religious character, and by its\nopposition to the rhetorical training then in vogue. Now, Aristotle\u2019s\ndialogues, of which only a few fragments have been preserved, contained\nelegant arguments in favour of a creative First Cause, and of human\nimmortality; although in the writings which embody his maturer views,\nthe first of these theories is considerably modified, and the second is\nabsolutely rejected. Further, we are informed that Aristotle expressed\nhimself in terms of rather violent contempt for Isocrates, the greatest\nliving professor of declamation; and opened an opposition school of\nhis own. This step has, curiously enough, been adduced as a further\nproof of disagreement with Plato, who, it is said, objected to all\nrhetorical teaching whatever. It seems to us that what he condemned\nwas rather the method and aim of the then fashionable rhetoric; and\na considerable portion of his _Phaedrus_ is devoted to proving how\nmuch more effectually persuasion might be produced by the combined\napplication of dialectics and psychology to oratory. Now, this is\nprecisely what Aristotle afterwards attempted to work out in the\ntreatise on Rhetoric still preserved among his writings; and we may\nsafely assume that his earlier lectures at Athens were composed on the\nsame principle.\n\nIn 347 Plato died, leaving his nephew Speusippus to succeed him in the\nheadship of the Academy. Aristotle then left Athens, accompanied by\nanother Platonist, Xenocrates, a circumstance tending to prove that\nhis relations with the school continued to be of a cordial character.\nThe two settled in Atarneus, at the invitation of its tyrant Hermeias,\nan old fellow-student from the Academy. Hermeias was a eunuch who\nhad risen from the position of a slave to that of vizier, and then,\nafter his master\u2019s death, to the possession of supreme power. Three\nyears subsequently a still more abrupt turn of fortune brought his\nadventurous career to a close. Like Polycrates, he was treacherously\nseized and crucified by order of the Persian Government. Aristotle,\nwho had married Pythias, his deceased patron\u2019s niece, fled with her\nto Mityl\u00ean\u00ea. Always grateful, and singularly enthusiastic in his\nattachments, he celebrated the memory of Hermeias in a manner which\ngave great offence to the religious sentiment of Hellas, by dedicating\na statue to him at Delphi, and composing an elegy, still extant,\nin which he compares the eunuch-despot to Heracles, the Dioscuri,\nAchilles, and Ajax; and promises him immortality from the Muses in\nhonour of Xenian Zeus.\n\nWhen we next hear of Aristotle he is at the Macedonian Court,[174]\nacting as tutor to Alexander, the future conqueror of Asia, who\nremained under his charge between the ages of thirteen and sixteen\nyears. The philosopher is more likely to have obtained this appointment\nby Court interest\u2014his father was Court-physician to Alexander\u2019s\ngrandfather, Amyntas\u2014than by his reputation, which could hardly have\nbeen made until several years afterwards. Much has been made of a\nconnexion which, although it did not last very long, appeals strongly\nto the imagination, and opens a large field for surmise. The greatest\nspeculative and the greatest practical genius of that age\u2014some might\nsay of all ages\u2014could not, one would think, come into such close\ncontact without leaving a deep impression on each other. Accordingly,\nthe philosopher is supposed to have prepared the hero for his future\ndestinies. Milton has told us how Aristotle \u2018bred great Alexander to\nsubdue the world.\u2019 Hegel tells us that this was done by giving him the\nconsciousness of himself, the full assurance of his own powers; for\nwhich purpose, it seems, the infinite daring of thought was required;\nand he observes that the result is a refutation of the silly talk about\nthe practical inutility of philosophy.[175] It would be unfortunate\nif philosophy had no better testimonial to show for herself than the\ncharacter of Alexander. It is not the least merit of Grote\u2019s History to\nhave brought out in full relief the savage traits by which his conduct\nwas marked from first to last. Arrogant, drunken, cruel, vindictive,\nand grossly superstitious, he united the vices of a Highland chieftain\nto the frenzy of an Oriental despot. No man ever stood further from\nthe gravity, the gentleness, the moderation\u2014in a word, the S\u00f4phrosyn\u00ea\nof a true Hellenic hero. The time came when Aristotle himself would\nhave run the most imminent personal risk had he been within the\ntyrant\u2019s immediate grasp. His nephew, Callisthenes, had incurred\ndeep displeasure by protesting against the servile adulation, or\nrather idolatry, which Alexander exacted from his attendants. A charge\nof conspiracy was trumped up against him, and even the exculpatory\nevidence, taken under torture, of his alleged accomplices did not save\nhim. \u2018I will punish the sophist,\u2019 wrote Alexander, \u2018and those who sent\nhim out.\u2019 It was understood that his old tutor was included in the\nthreat. Fortunately, as Grote observes, Aristotle was not at Ecbatana\nbut at Athens; he therefore escaped the fate of Callisthenes, who\nsuffered death in circumstances, according to some accounts, of great\natrocity.\n\nZeller finds several good qualities in Alexander\u2014precocious\nstatesmanship, zeal for the extension of Hellenic civilisation,\nlong-continued self-restraint under almost irresistible temptation,\nand through all his subsequent aberrations a nobility, a moral\npurity, a humanity, and a culture, which raise him above every other\ngreat conqueror; and these he attributes, in no small degree, to the\nfostering care of Aristotle;[176] yet, with the exception of moral\npurity, which was probably an affair of temperament, and has been\nremarked to an equal extent in other men of the same general character,\nhe was surpassed, in all these respects, by Julius Caesar; while the\nruthless vindictiveness, which was his worst passion, exhibited itself\nat the very beginning of his reign by the destruction of Thebes. A\nvarnish of literary culture he undoubtedly had, and for this Aristotle\nmay be thanked; but any ordinary sophist would probably have effected\nas much. As to the Hellenising of Western Asia, this, according to\nGrote, was the work, not of Alexander, but of the Diadochi after him.\n\nThe profit reaped by Aristotle from the connexion seems equally\ndoubtful. Tradition tells us that enormous sums of money were spent in\naid of his scientific researches, and a whole army of crown servants\ndeputed to collect information bearing on his zoological studies.\nModern explorations, however, have proved that the conquests of\nAlexander, at least, did not, as has been pretended, supply him with\nany new specimens; nor does the knowledge contained in his extant\ntreatises exceed what could be obtained either by his own observations\nor by private enquiries. At the same time we may suppose that his\nservices were handsomely rewarded, and that his official position at\nthe Macedonian Court gave him numerous opportunities for conversing\nwith the grooms, huntsmen, shepherds, fishermen, and others, from whom\nmost of what he tells us about the habits of animals was learned. In\nconnexion with the favour enjoyed by Aristotle, it must be mentioned\nas a fresh proof of his amiable character, that he obtained the\nrestoration of Stageira, which had been ruthlessly destroyed by Philip,\ntogether with the other Greek cities of the Chalcidic peninsula.\n\nTwo passages in Aristotle\u2019s writings have been supposed to give\nevidence of his admiration for Alexander. One is the description of\nthe magnanimous man in the _Ethics_. The other is a reference in the\n_Politics_ to an ideal hero, whose virtue raises him so high above the\ncommon run of mortals that their duty is to obey him as if he were\na god. But the magnanimous man embodies a grave and stately type of\ncharacter quite unlike the chivalrous, impulsive theatrical nature of\nAlexander,[177] while probably not unfrequent among real Hellenes; and\nthe god-like statesman of the _Politics_ is spoken of rather as an\nunattainable ideal than as a contemporary fact. On the whole, then,\nwe must conclude that the intercourse between these two extraordinary\nspirits has left no distinct trace on the actions of the one or on the\nthoughts of the other.\n\nOn Alexander\u2019s departure for the East, Aristotle returned to Athens,\nwhere he now placed himself at the head of a new philosophical\nschool. The ensuing period of thirteen years was fully occupied by\nthe delivery of public lectures, and by the composition of those\nencyclopaedic writings which will preserve his memory for ever, along,\nperhaps, with many others which have not survived. Like Anaxagoras,\nhe was not allowed to end his days in the city of his adoption. His\nyouthful attacks on Isocrates had probably made him many enemies among\nthat rhetor\u2019s pupils. It is supposed by Grote, but warmly disputed\nby Zeller, that his trenchant criticisms on Plato had excited a\nsimilar animosity among the sectaries of the Academy.[178] Anyhow,\ncircumstances had unavoidably associated him with the detested\nMacedonian party, although his position, as a metic, or resident alien,\ndebarred him from taking any active part in politics. With Alexander\u2019s\ndeath the storm broke loose. A charge was trumped up against Aristotle,\non the strength of his unlucky poem in honour of Hermeias, which was\ndescribed as an insult to religion. That such an accusation should\nbe chosen is characteristic of Athenian bigotry, even should there\nbe no truth in the story that certain philosophical opinions of his\nwere likewise singled out for prosecution. Before the case came on\nfor trial, Aristotle availed himself of the usual privilege allowed\non such occasions, and withdrew to Chalcis, in order, as he said,\nthat the Athenians need not sin a second time against philosophy.\nBut his constitution, naturally a feeble one, was nearly worn out.\nA year afterwards he succumbed to a stomach complaint, aggravated,\nif not produced, by incessant mental application. His contemporary,\nDemosthenes, perished about the same time, and at the same age,\nsixty-two. Within little more than a twelvemonth the world had lost its\nthree greatest men; and after three centuries of uninterrupted glory,\nHellas was left unrepresented by a single individual of commanding\ngenius.\n\nWe are told that when his end began to approach, the dying philosopher\nwas pressed to choose a successor in the headship of the School.\nThe manner in which he did this is characteristic of his singular\ngentleness and unwillingness to give offence. It was understood\nthat the choice must lie between his two most distinguished pupils,\nTheophrastus of Lesbos, and Eud\u00eamus of Rhodes. Aristotle asked for\nspecimens of the wine grown in those islands. He first essayed the\nRhodian vintage, and praised it highly, but remarked after tasting the\nother, \u2018The Lesbian is sweeter,\u2019 thus revealing his preference for\nTheophrastus, who accordingly reigned over the Lyceum in his stead.[179]\n\nA document purporting to be Aristotle\u2019s will has been preserved by\nDiogenes Laertius, and although some objections to its authenticity\nhave been raised by Sir A. Grant, they have, in our opinion, been\nsuccessfully rebutted by Zeller.[180] The philosopher\u2019s testamentary\ndispositions give one more proof of his thoughtful consideration for\nthe welfare of those about him, and his devotion to the memory of\ndeparted friends. Careful provision is made for the guardianship of his\nyouthful children, and for the comfort of his second wife, Herpyllis,\nwho, he says, had \u2018been good to\u2019 him. Certain slaves, specified by\nname, are to be emancipated, and to receive legacies. None of the young\nslaves who waited on him are to be sold, and on growing up they are to\nbe set free \u2018if they deserve it.\u2019 The bones of his first wife, Pythias,\nare, as she herself desired, to be laid by his. Monuments are to be\nerected in memory of his mother, and of certain friends, particularly\nProxenus, who had been Aristotle\u2019s guardian, and his family.\n\nIn person Aristotle resembled the delicate student of modern times\nrather than the athletic figures of his predecessors. He was not a\nsoldier like Socrates, nor a gymnast like Plato. To judge from several\nallusions in his works, he put great faith in walking as a preservative\nof health\u2014even when lecturing he liked to pace up and down a shady\navenue. And, probably, a constitutional was the severest exercise that\nhe ever took. He spoke with a sort of lisp, and the expression of his\nmouth is said to have been sarcastic; but the traits preserved to us\nin marble tell only of meditation, and perhaps of pain. A free-spoken\nand fearless critic, he was not over-sensitive on his own account.\nWhen told that somebody had been abusing him in his absence, the\nphilosopher replied, \u2018He may beat me, too, if he likes\u2014in my absence.\u2019\nHe might be abused, even in his own presence, without departing from\nthe same attitude of calm disdain, much to the disappointment of his\npetulant assailants. His equanimity was but slightly disturbed by more\npublic and substantial affronts. When certain honorary distinctions,\nconferred on him by a popular vote at Delphi, were withdrawn, probably\non the occasion of his flight from Athens, he remarked with his usual\nstudied moderation, that, while not entirely indifferent, he did not\nfeel very deeply concerned; a trait which illustrates the character of\nthe \u2018magnanimous man\u2019 far better than anything related of Alexander.\nTwo other sayings have an almost Christian tone; when asked how we\nshould treat our friends, he replied, \u2018As we should wish them to treat\nus;\u2019 and on being reproached with wasting his bounty on an unworthy\nobject, he observed, \u2018it was not the person, but the human being that I\npitied.\u2019[181]\n\nStill, taking it altogether, the life of Aristotle gives one the\nimpression of something rather desultory and dependent, not proudly\nself-determined, like the lives of the thinkers who went before him.\nWe are reminded of the fresh starts and the appeals to authority so\nfrequent in his writings. He is first detained at Athens twenty years\nby the attraction of Plato; and no sooner is Plato gone, than he falls\nunder the influence of an entirely different character\u2014Hermeias. Even\nwhen his services are no longer needed he lingers near the Macedonian\nCourt, until Alexander\u2019s departure leaves him once more without a\npatron. The most dignified period of his whole career is that during\nwhich he presided over the Peripatetic School; but he owes this\nposition to foreign influence, and loses it with the temporary revival\nof Greek liberty. A longer life would probably have seen him return to\nAthens in the train of his last patron Antipater, whom, as it was, he\nappointed executor to his will. This was just the sort of character\nto lay great stress on the evidentiary value of sensation and popular\nopinion. It was also the character of a conservative who was likely to\nbelieve that things had always been very much what they were in his\ntime, and would continue to remain so ever afterwards. Aristotle was\nnot the man to imagine that the present order of nature had sprung out\nof a widely different order in the remote past, nor to encourage such\nspeculations when they were offered to him by others. He would not\nreadily believe that phenomena, as he knew them, rested on a reality\nwhich could neither be seen nor felt. Nor, finally, could he divine the\nmovements which were slowly undermining the society in which he lived,\nstill less construct an ideal polity for its reorganisation on a higher\nand broader basis. And here we at once become conscious of the chief\ndifference separating him from his master, Plato.\n\n\nIII.\n\nIt is an often-quoted observation of Friedrich Schlegel\u2019s that every\nman is born either a Platonist or an Aristotelian. If we narrow the\nremark to the only class which, perhaps, its author recognised as human\nbeings, namely, all thinking men, it will be found to contain a certain\namount of truth, though probably not what Schlegel intended; at any\nrate something requiring to be supplemented by other truths before its\nfull meaning can be understood. The common opinion seems to be that\nPlato was a transcendentalist, while Aristotle was an experientialist;\nand that this constitutes the most typical distinction between them.\nIt would, however, be a mistake to suppose that the _\u00e0 priori_ and _\u00e0\nposteriori_ methods were marked off with such definiteness in Plato\u2019s\ntime as to render possible a choice between them. The opposition was\nnot between general propositions and particular facts, but between\nthe most comprehensive and the most limited notions. It was as if\nthe question were now to be raised whether we should begin to teach\nphysiology by at once dividing the organic from the inorganic world,\nor by directing the learner\u2019s attention to some one vital act. Now,\nwe are expressly told that Plato hesitated between these two methods;\nand in his Dialogues, at least, we find the easier and more popular\none employed by preference. It is true that he often appeals to wide\nprinciples which do not rest on an adequate basis of experimental\nevidence; but Aristotle does so also, more frequently even, and, as\nthe event proved, with more fatal injury to the advance of knowledge.\nIn his _Rhetoric_ he even goes beyond Plato, constructing the entire\nart from the general principles of dialectics, psychology, and ethics,\nwithout any reference, except for the sake of illustration, to existing\nmodels of eloquence.\n\nAccording to Sir A. Grant, it is by the mystical and poetical side\nof his nature that Plato differs from Aristotle. The one \u2018aspired\nto a truth above the truth of scientific knowledge\u2019; the other to\n\u2018methodised experience and the definite.\u2019[182] Now, setting aside the\nquestion whether there is any truth above the truth of scientific\nknowledge, we doubt very much whether Plato believed in its existence.\nHe held that the most valuable truth was that which could be imparted\nto others by a process even more rigorous than mathematical reasoning;\nand there was no reality, however transcendent, that he did not hope to\nbring within the grasp of a dialectic without which even the meanest\ncould not be understood. He did, indeed, believe that, so far, the\nbest and wisest of mankind had owed much more to a divinely implanted\ninstinct than to any conscious chain of reflection; but he distinctly\nasserted the inferiority of such guidance to the light of scientific\nknowledge, if this could be obtained, as he hoped that it could. On the\nother hand, Aristotle was probably superior to Plato as a poet; and in\nspeaking about the highest realities he uses language which, though\nless rich and ornate than his master\u2019s, is not inferior to it in force\nand fervour; while his metaphysical theories contain a large element of\nwhat would now be considered mysticism, that is, he often sees evidence\nof purpose and animation where they do not really exist. His advantage\nin definiteness is, of course, indisputable, but this was, perhaps,\nbecause he came after Plato and profited by his lessons.\n\nYet there _was_ a difference between them, marking off each as the\nhead of a whole School much wider than the Academy or the Lyceum;\na difference which we can best express by saying that Plato was\npre-eminently a practical, Aristotle pre-eminently a speculative\ngenius. The object of the one was to reorganise all human life, that\nof the other to reorganise all human knowledge. Had the one lived\nearlier, he would more probably have been a great statesman or a great\ngeneral than a great writer; the other would at no time have been\nanything but a philosopher, a mathematician, or a historian. Even\nfrom birth they seemed to be respectively marked out for an active\nand for a contemplative life: the one, a citizen of the foremost\nState in Hellas, sprung from a family in which political ambition was\nhereditary, himself strong, beautiful, fascinating, eloquent, and\ngifted with the keenest insight into men\u2019s capacities and motives;\nthe other a Stagirite and an Asclepiad, that is to say, without\nopportunities for a public career, and possessing a hereditary aptitude\nfor anatomy and natural history, fitted by his insignificant person\nand delicate constitution for sedentary pursuits, and better able to\nacquire a knowledge even of human nature from books than from a living\nconverse with men and affairs. Of course, we are not for a moment\ndenying to Plato a foremost place among the masters of those who\nknow; he embraced all the science of his age, and to a great extent\nmarked out the course which the science of future ages was to pursue;\nnevertheless, for him, knowledge was not so much an end in itself as a\nmeans for the attainment of other ends, among which the preservation\nof the State seems to have been, in his eyes, the most important.[M]\nAristotle, on the other hand, after declaring happiness to be the\nsupreme end, defines it as an energising of man\u2019s highest nature, which\nagain he identifies with the reasoning process or cognition in its\npurest form.\n\nThe same fundamental difference comes out strongly in their respective\ntheologies. Plato starts with the conception that God is good, and\nbeing good wishes everything to resemble himself; an assumption from\nwhich the divine origin and providential government of the world\nare deduced. Aristotle thinks of God as exclusively occupied in\nself-contemplation, and only acting on Nature through the love which\nhis perfection inspires. If, further, we consider in what relation the\ntwo philosophies stand to ethics, we shall find that, to Plato, its\nproblems were the most pressing of any, that they haunted him through\nhis whole life, and that he made contributions of extraordinary value\ntowards their solution; while to Aristotle, it was merely a branch\nof natural history, a study of the different types of character to\nbe met with in Greek society, without the faintest perception that\nconduct required to be set on a wider and firmer basis than the\nconventional standards of his age. Hence it is that, in reading Plato,\nwe are perpetually reminded of the controversies still raging among\nourselves. He gives us an exposition, to which nothing has ever been\nadded, of the theory now known as Egoistic Hedonism; he afterwards\nabandons that theory, and passes on to the social side of conduct, the\nnecessity of justice, the relation of private to public interest, the\nbearing of religion, education, and social institutions on morality,\nalong with other kindred topics, which need not be further specified,\nas they have been discussed with sufficient fulness in the preceding\nchapter. Aristotle, on the contrary, takes us back into old Greek life\nas it was before the days of Socrates, noticing the theories of that\ngreat reformer only that he may reject them in favour of a narrow,\ncommon-sense standard. Virtuous conduct, he tells us, consists in\nchoosing a mean between two extremes. If we ask how the proper mean\nis to be discovered, he refers us to a faculty called \u03c6\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, or\npractical reason; but on further enquiry it turns out that this faculty\nis possessed by none who are not already virtuous. To the question,\nHow are men made moral? he answers, By acquiring moral habits; which\namounts to little more than a restatement of the problem, or, at any\nrate, suggests another more difficult question\u2014How are good habits\nacquired?\n\nAn answer might conceivably have been supplied, had Aristotle been\nenable to complete that sketch of an ideal State which was originally\nintended to form part of his _Politics_. But the philosopher evidently\nfound that to do so was beyond his powers. If the seventh and eighth\nbooks of that treatise, which contain the fragmentary attempt in\nquestion, had originally occupied the place where they now stand in\nour manuscripts, it might have been supposed that Aristotle\u2019s labours\nwere interrupted by death. Modern criticism has shown, however, that\nthey should follow immediately after the first three books, and that\nthe author broke off, almost at the beginning of his ideal polity,\nto take up the much more congenial task of analysing and criticising\nthe actually existing Hellenic constitutions. But the little that he\nhas done proves him to have been profoundly unfitted for the task of\na practical reformer. What few actual recommendations it contains\nare a compromise\u2014somewhat in the spirit of Plato\u2019s _Laws_\u2014between\nthe _Republic_ and real life. The rest is what he never fails to\ngive us\u2014a mass of details about matters of fact, and a summary of\nhis speculative ethics, along with counsels of moderation in the\nspirit of his practical ethics; but not one practical principle of\nany value, not one remark to show that he understood what direction\nhistory was taking, or that he had mastered the elements of social\nreform as set forth in Plato\u2019s works. The progressive specialisation\nof political functions; the necessity of a spiritual power; the\nformation of a trained standing army; the admission of women to public\nemployments; the elevation of the whole race by artificial selection;\nthe radical reform of religion; the reconstitution of education,\nboth literary and scientific, the redistribution of property; the\nenactment of a new code; the use of public opinion as an instrument of\nmoralisation;\u2014these are the ideas which still agitate the minds of\nmen, and they are also the ideas of the _Republic_, the _Statesman_,\nand the _Laws_. Aristotle, on the other hand, occupies himself\nchiefly with discussing how far a city should be built from the sea,\nwhether it should be fortified; how its citizens should _not_ be\nemployed; when people should _not_ marry; what children should _not_\nbe permitted to see; and what music they should _not_ be taught. Apart\nfrom his enthusiasm for philosophy, there is nothing generous, nothing\nlarge-minded, nothing inspiring. The territory of the city is to be\nself-sufficing, that it may be isolated from other States; the citizens\nare to keep aloof from all industrial occupations; science is put out\nof relation to the material well-being of mankind. It was, in short, to\nbe a city where every gentleman should hold an idle fellowship; a city\nwhere Aristotle could live without molestation, and in the enjoyment of\ncongenial friendships; just as the God of his system was a still higher\nAristotle, perpetually engaged in the study of formal logic.\n\nEven in his much-admired criticisms on the actually existing types of\ngovernment our philosopher shows practical weakness and vacillation\nof character. There is a good word for them all\u2014for monarchy, for\naristocracy, for middle-class rule, and even for pure democracy.[183]\nThe fifth book, treating of political revolutions, is unquestionably\nthe ablest and most interesting in the whole work; but when\nAristotle quits the domain of natural history for that of practical\nsuggestions, with a view to obviate the dangers pointed out, he can\nthink of nothing better than the old advice\u2014to be moderate, even\nwhere the constitutions which moderation is to preserve are by their\nvery nature so excessive that their readjustment and equilibration\nwould be equivalent to their destruction. And in fact, Aristotle\u2019s\nproposals amount to this\u2014that government by the middle class should\nbe established wherever the ideal aristocracy of education is\nimpracticable; or else a government in which the class interests of\nrich and poor should be so nicely balanced as to obviate the danger of\noligarchic or democratic injustice. His error lay in not perceiving\nthat the only possible means of securing such a happy mean was to break\nthrough the narrow circle of Greek city life; to continue the process\nwhich had united families into villages, and villages into towns; to\nconfederate groups of cities into larger states; and so, by striking\nan average of different inequalities, to minimise the risk of those\nincessant revolutions which had hitherto secured the temporary triumph\nof alternate factions at the expense of their common interest. And, in\nfact, the spontaneous process of aggregation, which Aristotle did not\nforesee, has alone sufficed to remedy the evils which he saw, but could\nnot devise any effectual means of curing, and at the same time has bred\nnew evils of which his diagnosis naturally took no account.\n\nBut, if this be so, it follows that Mr. Edwin Wallace\u2019s appeal to\nAristotle as an authority worth consulting on our present social\ndifficulties cannot be upheld. Take the question quoted by Mr. Wallace\nhimself: \u2018Whether the State is a mere combination for the preservation\nof goods and property, or a moral organism developing the idea of\nright?\u2019 Aristotle certainly held very strong opinions in favour of\nState interference with education and private morality, if that is\nwhat the second alternative implies; but does it follow that he would\nagree with those who advocate a similar supervision at the present day?\nBy no means; because experience has shown that in enormous industrial\nsocieties like ours, protection is attended with difficulties and\ndangers which he could no more foresee than he could foresee the\ndiscoveries on which our physical science is based. Or, returning for\na moment to ethics, let us take another of Mr. Wallace\u2019s problems:\n\u2018Whether intellectual also involves moral progress?\u2019 What possible\nlight can be thrown on it by Aristotle\u2019s exposure of the powerlessness\nof right knowledge to make an individual virtuous, when writers like\nBuckle have transferred the whole question from a particular to a\ngeneral ground; from the conduct of individuals to the conduct of men\nacting in large masses, and over vast periods of time? Or, finally,\ntake the question which forms a point of junction between Aristotle\u2019s\nethics and his politics: \u2018Whether the highest life is a life of thought\nor a life of action?\u2019 Of what importance is his decision to us, who\nattend far more to the social than to the individual consequences of\nactions; who have learned to take into account the emotional element\nof happiness, which Aristotle neglected; who are uninfluenced by his\nappeal to the blissful theorising of gods in whom we do not believe;\nfor whom, finally, experience has altogether broken down the antithesis\nbetween knowledge and practice, by showing that speculative ideas may\nrevolutionise the whole of life? Aristotle is an interesting historical\nstudy; but we are as far beyond him in social as in physical science.\n\n\nIV.\n\nOn turning to Aristotle\u2019s _Rhetoric_ we find that, from a practical\npoint of view, his failure here is, if possible, still more complete.\nThis treatise contains, as we have already observed, an immense mass\nof more or less valuable information on the subject of psychology,\nethics, and dialectic, but gives exceedingly little advice about the\nvery essence of rhetoric as an art, which is to say whatever you have\nto say in the most telling manner, by the arrangement of topics and\narguments, by the use of illustrations, and by the choice of language;\nand that little is to be found in the third book, the genuineness of\nwhich is open to very grave suspicion. It may be doubted whether any\norator or critic of oratory was ever benefited in the slightest degree\nby the study of Aristotle\u2019s rules. His collections of scientific data\nadd nothing to our knowledge, but only throw common experience into\nabstract formulas; and even as a body of memoranda they would be\nuseless, for no memory could contain them, or if any man could remember\nthem he would have intellect enough not to require them.[184] The\nprofessional teachers whom Aristotle so heartily despised seem to have\nfollowed a much more effectual method than his; they gave their pupils\nready-made speeches to analyse and learn by heart, rightly trusting to\nthe imitative instinct to do the rest. He compares them to a master who\nshould teach his apprentices how to make shoes by supplying them with\na great variety of ready-made pairs. But this would be a much better\nplan than to give them an elaborate lecture on the anatomy of the foot,\nwith a full enumeration of its bones, muscles, tendons, nerves, and\nblood-vessels, which is the most appropriate parallel to _his_ system\nof instruction.\n\nThe _Poetics_ of Aristotle contains some hints on the subject of\ncomposition which entitle it to be mentioned in the present connexion.\nThe deficiencies, even from a purely theoretical point of view, of\nthis work, once pronounced infallible, have at last become so obvious\nthat elaborate hypotheses have been constructed, according to which\nthe recension handed down to us is a mere mutilated extract from the\noriginal treatise. Enough, however, remains to convince us that poetry\nwas not, any more than eloquence, a subject with which Aristotle was\nfitted to cope. He begins by defining it, in common with all other\nart, as an imitation. Here, we at once recognise the spirit of a\nphilosophy, the whole power and interest of which lay in knowledge;\nand, in fact, he tells us that the love of art is derived from the\nlove of knowledge. But the truth seems to be that aesthetic enjoyment\nis due to an ideal exercise of our faculties, among which the power\nof perceiving identities is sometimes, though not always, included.\nThat the materials of which every artistic creation is composed are\ntaken from the world of our experience makes no difference; for it is\nby the new forms in which they are arranged that we are interested,\nnot because we remember having met them in some natural combination\nalready. Aristotle could not help seeing that this was true in the\ncase of music at least; and he can only save his principle by treating\nmusical effects as representations of passions in the soul. To say,\nhowever, that musical pleasure arises from a perception of resemblance\nbetween certain sounds and the emotions with which they are associated,\nwould be an extremely forced interpretation; the pleasure is due\nrather to a sympathetic participation in the emotion itself. And when\nAristotle goes on to tell us that the characters imitated in epic and\ndramatic poetry may be either better or worse than in ordinary life, he\nis obviously admitting other aesthetic motives not accounted for by his\ngeneral theory. If, on the other hand, we start with ideal energising\nas the secret of aesthetic emotion, we can easily understand how an\nimaginary exaltation of our faculties is yielded by the spectacle of\nsomething either rising above, or falling below, the level on which we\nstand. In the one case we become momentarily invested with the strength\nput into action before our eyes; in the other, the consciousness of\nour own superiority amounts to a fund of reserve power, which _not_\nbeing put into action, is entirely available for ideal enjoyment.\nAnd, if this be the correct view, it will follow that Aristotle was\nquite wrong when he declared the plot to be more important than the\ncharacters of a drama. The reason given for his preference is, even on\nthe principles of his own philosophy, a bad one. He says that there\ncan be plot without character-drawing, but never character-drawing\nwithout plot. Yet he has taught us elsewhere that the human soul is of\nmore value than the physical organism on which its existence depends.\nThis very parallel suggests itself to him in his _Poetics_; but, by an\nalmost inconceivable misjudgment, it is the plot which he likens to the\nsoul of the piece, whereas in truth it should be compared to the body.\nThe practice and preference of his own time may have helped to mislead\nhim, for he argues (rather inconsistently, by the way) that plot must\nbe more indispensable, as young writers are able to construct good\nstories before they are able to portray character; and more artistic,\nas it was developed much later in the historical evolution of tragedy.\nFortunately for us, the Alexandrian critics were guided by other canons\nof taste, or the structurally faulty pieces of Aeschylus might have\nbeen neglected, and the ingeniously constructed pieces of Agathon\npreserved in their place.\n\nIt is probable, however, that Aristotle\u2019s partiality was determined\nmore by the systematising and analytical character of his own genius\nthan by the public opinion of his age; or rather, the same tendency was\nat work in philosophy and in art at the same time, and the theories\nof the one were unconsciously pre-adapted to the productions of the\nother. In both there was a decay of penetration and of originality, of\nlife and of inspiration; in both a great development of whatever could\nbe obtained by technical proficiency; in both an extension of surface\nat the expense of depth, a gain of fluency, and a loss of force. But\npoetry lost far more than philosophy by the change; and so the works of\nthe one have perished while the works of the other have survived.\n\nModern literature offers abundant materials for testing Aristotle\u2019s\ntheory, and the immense majority of critics have decided against\nit. Even among fairly educated readers few would prefer Moli\u00e8re\u2019s\n_L\u2019\u00c9tourdi_ to his _Misanthrope_, or Schiller\u2019s _Maria Stuart_ to\nGoethe\u2019s _Faust_, or Lord Lytton\u2019s _Lucretia_ to George Eliot\u2019s\n_Romola_, or Dickens\u2019s _Tale of Two Cities_ to the same writer\u2019s\n_Nicholas Nickleby_, or his _Great Expectations_ to his _David\nCopperfield_, although in each instance the work named first has the\nbetter plot of the two.\n\nCharacters, then, are not introduced that they may perform actions;\nbut actions are represented for the sake of the characters who do\nthem, or who suffer by them. It is not so much a ghostly apparition\nor a murder which interests us as the fact that the ghost appears to\nHamlet, and that the murder is committed by Macbeth. And the same is\ntrue of the Greek drama, though not perhaps to the same extent. We may\ncare for Oedipus chiefly on account of his adventures; but we care\nfar more for what Prometheus or Clytemnestra, Antigone or Ajax, say\nabout themselves than for what they suffer or what they do. Thus, and\nthus only, are we enabled to understand the tragic element in poetry,\nthe production of pleasure by the spectacle of pain. It is not the\nsatisfaction caused by seeing a skilful imitation of reality, for few\nhave witnessed such awful events in real life as on the stage; nor\nis it pain, as such, which interests us, for the scenes of torture\nexhibited in some Spanish and Bolognese paintings do not gratify,\nthey revolt and disgust an educated taste. The true tragic emotion\nis produced, not by the suffering itself, but by the reaction of the\ncharacters against it; for this gives, more than anything else, the\nidea of a force with which we can synergise, because it is purely\nmental; or by the helpless submission of the victims whom we wish to\nassist because they are lovable, and whom we love still more from our\ninability to assist them, through the transformation of arrested action\ninto feeling, accompanied by the enjoyment proper to tender emotion.\nHence the peculiar importance of the female parts in dramatic poetry.\nAristotle tells us that it is bad art to represent women as nobler and\nbraver than men, because they are not so in reality.[185] Nevertheless,\nhe should have noticed that on the tragic stage of Athens women first\ncompeted with men, then equalled, and finally far surpassed them in\nloftiness of character.[186] But with his philosophy he could not see\nthat, if heroines did not exist, it would be necessary to create them.\nFor, if women are conceived as reacting against outward circumstances\nat all, their very helplessness will lead to the storing of a greater\nmental tension in the shape of excited thought and feeling debarred\nfrom any manifestation except in words; and it is exactly with this\nmental tension that the spectator can most easily synergise. The\nwrath of Orestes is not interesting, because it is entirely absorbed\ninto the premeditation and execution of his vengeance. The passion\nof Electra is profoundly interesting, because it has no outlet but\nimpotent denunciations of her oppressors, and abortive schemes for her\ndeliverance from their yoke. Hence, also, Shakspeare produces some of\nhis greatest effects by placing his male characters, to some extent,\nin the position of women, either through their natural weakness and\nindecision, as with Hamlet, and Brutus, and Macbeth, or through the\nparalysis of unproved suspicion, as with Othello; while the greatest\nof all his heroines, Lady Macbeth, is so because she has the intellect\nand will to frame resolutions of dauntless ambition, and eloquence to\nforce them on her husband, without either the physical or the moral\nforce to execute them herself. In all these cases it is the arrest of\nan electric current which produces the most intense heat, or the most\nbrilliant illumination. Again, by their extreme sensitiveness, and by\nthe natural desire felt to help them, women excite more pity, which,\nas we have said, means more love, than men; and this in the highest\ndegree when their sufferings are undeserved. We see, then, how wide\nAristotle went of the mark when he made it a rule that the sufferings\nof tragic characters should be partly brought on by their own fault,\nand that, speaking generally, they should not be distinguished for\njustice or virtue, nor yet for extreme wickedness.[187] The \u2018immoderate\nmoderation\u2019 of the Stagirite was never more infelicitously exhibited.\nFor, in order to produce truly tragic effects, excess of every kind\nnot only may, but must, be employed. It is by the reaction of heroic\nfortitude, either against unmerited outrage, or against the whole\npressure of social law, that our synergetic interest is wound up\nto the intensest pitch. It is when we see a beautiful soul requited\nwith evil for good that our eyes are filled with the noblest tears.\nYet so absolutely perverted have men\u2019s minds been by the Aristotelian\ndictum that Gervinus, the great Shakspearian critic, actually tries to\nprove that Duncan, to some extent, deserved his fate by imprudently\ntrusting himself to the hospitality of Macbeth; that Desdemona was very\nimprudent in interceding for Cassio; and that it was treasonable for\nCordelia to bring a French army into England! The Greek drama might\nhave supplied Aristotle with several decisive contradictions of his\ncanons. He should have seen that the _Prometheus_, the _Antigone_,\nand the _Hippolytus_ are affecting in proportion to the pre-eminent\nvirtue of their protagonists. The further fallacy of excluding very\nguilty characters is, of course, most decisively refuted by Shakspeare,\nwhose Richard III., whose Iago, and whose Macbeth excite keen interest\nby their association of extraordinary villainy with extraordinary\nintellectual gifts.\n\nSo far Aristotle gives us a purely superficial and sensational view of\nthe drama. Yet he could not help seeing that there was a moral element\nin tragedy, and he was anxious to show, as against Plato, that it\nexercised an improving effect on the audience. The result is his famous\ntheory of the Catharsis, so long misunderstood, and not certainly\nunderstood even now. The object of Tragedy, he tells us, is to purify\n(or purge away) pity and terror by means of those emotions themselves.\nThe _Poetics_ seems originally to have contained an explanation of\nthis mysterious utterance, now lost, and critics have endeavoured to\nsupply the gap by writing eighty treatises on the subject. The result\nhas been at least to show what Aristotle did _not_ mean. The popular\nversion of his dictum, which is that tragedy purges the passions by\npity and terror, is clearly inconsistent with the wording of the\noriginal text. Pity and terror are both the object and the instrument\nof purification. Nor yet does he mean, as was once supposed, that each\nof these emotions is to counterbalance and moderate the other; for\nthis would imply that they are opposed to one another, whereas in the\n_Rhetoric_ he speaks of them as being akin; while a parallel passage\nin the _Politics_[188] shows him to have believed that the passions\nare susceptible of homoeopathic treatment. Violent enthusiasm, he\ntells us, is to be soothed and carried off by a strain of exciting,\nimpassioned music. But whence come the pity and terror which are\nto be dealt with by tragic poetry? Not, apparently, from the piece\nitself, for to inoculate the patient with a new disease, merely for\nthe sake of curing it, could do him no imaginable good. To judge from\nthe passage in the _Politics_ already referred to, he believes that\npity and terror are always present in the minds of all, to a certain\nextent; and the theory apparently is, that tragedy brings them to the\nsurface, and enables them to be thrown off with an accompaniment of\npleasurable feeling. Now, of course, we have a constant capacity for\nexperiencing every passion to which human nature is liable; but to say\nthat in the absence of its appropriate external stimulus we are ever\nperceptibly and painfully affected by any passion, is to assert what\nis not true of any sane mind. And, even were it so, were we constantly\nhaunted by vague presentiments of evil to ourselves or others, it is\nanything but clear that fictitious representations of calamity would\nbe the appropriate means for enabling us to get rid of them. Zeller\nexplains that it is the insight into universal laws controlling our\ndestiny, the association of misfortune with a divine justice, which,\naccording to Aristotle, produces the purifying effect;[189] but this\nwould be the purgation of pity and terror, not by themselves, but by\nthe intellectual framework in which they are set, the concatenation of\nevents, the workings of character, or the reference of everything to an\neternal cause. The truth is that Aristotle\u2019s explanation of the moral\neffect produced by tragedy is irrational, because his whole conception\nof tragedy is mistaken. The emotions excited by its highest forms are\nnot terror and pity, but admiration and love, which, in their ideal\nexercise, are too holy for purification, too high for restriction, and\ntoo delightful for relief.\n\nBefore parting with the _Poetics_ we must add that it contains\none excellent piece of advice to dramatists, which is, to imagine\nthemselves present at the scenes which they are supposing to happen,\nand also at the representation of their own play. This, however, is an\nexception which proves the rule, for Aristotle\u2019s exclusively theoretic\nstandpoint here, as will sometimes happen, coincides with the truly\npractical standpoint.\n\nA somewhat similar observation applies to the art of reasoning, which\nit would be possible to compile by bringing together all the rules on\nthe subject, scattered through the _Organon_. Aristotle has discovered\nand formulated every canon of theoretical consistency, and every\nartifice of dialectical debate, with an industry and acuteness which\ncannot be too highly extolled; and his labours in this direction have\nperhaps contributed more than those of any other single writer to\nthe intellectual stimulation of after ages; but the kind of genius\nrequisite for such a task was speculative rather than practical; there\nwas no experience of human nature in its concrete manifestations, no\nprevision of real consequences involved. Such a code might be, and\nprobably was to a great extent, abstracted from the Platonic dialogues;\nbut to work up the processes of thought into a series of dramatic\ncontests, carried on between living individuals, as Plato has done,\nrequired a vivid perception and grasp of realities which, and not any\npoetical mysticism, is what positively distinguishes a Platonist from\nan Aristotelian.[190]\n\n\nV.\n\nBut if Aristotle had not his master\u2019s enthusiasm for practical reforms,\nnor his master\u2019s command of all the forces by which humanity is raised\nto a higher life, he had, more even than his master, the Greek passion\nfor knowledge as such, apart from its utilitarian applications, and\nembracing in its vast orb the lowliest things with the loftiest, the\nmost fragmentary glimpses and the largest revelations of truth. He\ndemanded nothing but the materials for generalisation, and there was\nnothing from which he could not generalise. There was a place for\neverything within the limits of his world-wide system. Never in any\nhuman soul did the theorising passion burn with so clear and bright\nand pure a flame. Under its inspiration his style more than once breaks\ninto a strain of sublime, though simple and rugged eloquence. Speaking\nof that eternal thought which, according to him, constitutes the divine\nessence, he exclaims:\n\n On this principle the heavens and Nature hang. This is that best\n life which we possess during a brief period only, for there it is\n so always, which with us is impossible. And its activity is pure\n pleasure; wherefore waking, feeling, and thinking, are the most\n pleasurable states, on account of which hope and memory exist.... And\n of all activities theorising is the most delightful and the best,\n so that if God always has such happiness as we have in our highest\n moments, it is wonderful, and still more wonderful if he has more.[191]\n\nAgain, he tells us that\u2014\n\n If happiness consists in the appropriate exercise of our vital\n functions, then the highest happiness must result from the highest\n activity, whether we choose to call that reason or anything else which\n is the ruling and guiding principle within us, and through which\n we form our conceptions of what is noble and divine; and whether\n this be intrinsically divine, or only the divinest thing in us, its\n appropriate activity must be perfect happiness. Now this, which we\n call the theoretic activity, must be the mightiest; for reason is\n supreme in our souls and supreme over the objects which it cognises;\n and it is also the most continuous, for of all activities theorising\n is that which can be most uninterruptedly carried on. Again, we think\n that some pleasure ought to be mingled with happiness; if so, of all\n our proper activities philosophy is confessedly the most pleasurable,\n the enjoyments afforded by it being wonderfully pure and steady;\n for the existence of those who are in possession of knowledge is\n naturally more delightful than the existence of those who merely\n seek it. Of all virtues this is the most self-sufficing; for while\n in common with every other virtue it presupposes the indispensable\n conditions of life, wisdom does not, like justice and temperance and\n courage, need human objects for its exercise; theorising may go on in\n perfect solitude; for the co-operation of other men, though helpful,\n is not absolutely necessary to its activity. All other pursuits are\n exercised for some end lying outside themselves; war entirely for\n the sake of peace, and statesmanship in great part for the sake of\n honour and power; but theorising yields no extraneous profit great or\n small, and is loved for itself alone. If, then, the energising of pure\n reason rises above such noble careers as war and statesmanship by its\n independence, by its inherent delightfulness, and, so far as human\n frailty will permit, by its untiring vigour, this must constitute\n perfect human happiness; or rather such a life is more than human,\n and man can only partake of it through the divine principle within\n him; wherefore let us not listen to those who tell us that we should\n have no interests except what are human and mortal like ourselves;\n but so far as may be put on immortality, and bend all our efforts\n towards living up to that element of our nature which, though small in\n compass, is in power and preciousness supreme.[192]\n\nLet us now see how he carries this passionate enthusiasm for knowledge\ninto the humblest researches of zoology:\u2014\n\n Among natural objects, some exist unchanged through all eternity,\n while others are generated and decay. The former are divinely\n glorious, but being comparatively inaccessible to our means of\n observation, far less is known of them than we could wish; while\n perishable plants and animals offer abundant opportunities of study to\n us who live under the same conditions with them. Each science has a\n charm of its own. For knowledge of the heavenly bodies is so sublime\n a thing that even a little of it is more delightful than all earthly\n science put together; just as the smallest glimpse of a beloved\n beauty is more delightful than the fullest and nearest revelation of\n ordinary objects; while, on the other hand, where there are greater\n facilities for observation, science can be carried much further; and\n our closer kinship with the creatures of earth is some compensation\n for the interest felt in that philosophy which deals with the divine.\n Wherefore, in our discussions on living beings we shall, so far as\n possible, pass over nothing, whether it rank high or low in the scale\n of estimation. For even such of them as displease the senses, when\n viewed with the eye of reason as wonderful works of Nature afford an\n inexpressible pleasure to those who can enter philosophically into\n the causes of things. For, surely, it would be absurd and irrational\n to look with delight at the images of such objects on account of our\n interest in the pictorial or plastic skill which they exhibit, and\n not to take still greater pleasure in a scientific explanation of\n the realities themselves. We ought not then to shrink with childish\n disgust from an examination of the lower animals, for there is\n something wonderful in all the works of Nature; and we may repeat\n what Heracleitus is reported to have said to certain strangers who\n had come to visit him, but hung back at the door when they saw him\n warming himself before a fire, bidding them come in boldly, for\n that there also there were gods; not allowing ourselves to call any\n creature common or unclean, because there is a kind of natural beauty\n about them all. For, if anywhere, there is a pervading purpose in the\n works of Nature, and the realisation of this purpose is the beauty of\n the thing. But if anyone should look with contempt on the scientific\n examination of the lower animals, he must have the same opinion about\n himself; for the greatest repugnance is felt in looking at the parts\n of which the human body is composed, such as blood, muscles, bones,\n veins, and the like.[193] Similarly, in discussing any part or organ\n we should consider that it is not for the matter of which it consists\n that we care, but for the whole form; just as in talking about a house\n it is not bricks and mortar and wood that we mean; and so the theory\n of Nature deals with the essential structure of objects, not with the\n elements which, apart from that structure, would have no existence at\n all.[194]\n\nIt is well for the reputation of Aristotle that he could apply himself\nwith such devotion to the arduous and, in his time, inglorious\nresearches of natural history and comparative anatomy, since it was\nonly in those departments that he made any real contributions to\nphysical science. In the studies which were to him the noblest and most\nentrancing of any, his speculations are one long record of wearisome,\nhopeless, unqualified delusion. If, in the philosophy of practice and\nthe philosophy of art, he afforded no real guidance at all, in the\nphilosophy of Nature his guidance has always led men fatally astray.\nSo far as his means of observation extended, there was nothing that\nhe did not attempt to explain, and in every single instance he was\nwrong. He has written about the general laws of matter and motion,\nastronomy, chemistry, meteorology, and physiology, with the result\nthat he has probably made more blunders on those subjects than any\nhuman being ever made before or after him. And, if there is one thing\nmore astounding than his unbroken infelicity of speculation, it is\nthe imperturbable self-confidence with which he puts forward his\nfallacies as demonstrated scientific certainties. Had he been right,\nit was no \u2018slight or partial glimpses of the beloved\u2019 that would have\nbeen vouchsafed him, but the \u2018fullest and nearest revelation\u2019 of her\nbeauties. But the more he looked the less he saw. Instead of drawing\naside he only thickened and darkened the veils of sense which obscured\nher, by mistaking them for the glorious forms that lay concealed\nbeneath.\n\nModern admirers of Aristotle labour to prove that his errors were\ninevitable, and belonged more to his age than to himself; that without\nthe mechanical appliances of modern times science could not be\ncultivated with any hope of success. But what are we to say when we\nfind that on one point after another the true explanation had already\nbeen surmised by Aristotle\u2019s predecessors or contemporaries, only to be\nscornfully rejected by Aristotle himself? Their hypotheses may often\nhave been very imperfect, and supported by insufficient evidence; but\nit must have been something more than chance which always led him wrong\nwhen they were so often right. To begin with, the infinity of space is\nnot even now, nor will it ever be, established by improved instruments\nof observation and measurement; it is deduced by a very simple\nprocess of reasoning, of which Democritus and others were capable,\nwhile Aristotle apparently was not. He rejects the idea because it is\ninconsistent with certain very arbitrary assumptions and definitions\nof his own, whereas he should have rejected them because they were\ninconsistent with it. He further rejects the idea of a vacuum, and with\nit the atomic theory, entirely on _\u00e0 priori_ grounds, although, even\nin the then existing state of knowledge, atomism explained various\nphenomena in a perfectly rational manner which he could only explain by\nunmeaning or nonsensical phrases.[195] It had been already maintained,\nin his time, that the apparent movements of the heavenly bodies were\ndue to the rotation of the earth on its own axis.[196] Had Aristotle\naccepted this theory one can imagine how highly his sagacity would have\nbeen extolled. We may, therefore, fairly take his rejection of it as\na proof of blind adherence to old-fashioned opinions. When he argues\nthat none of the heavenly bodies rotate, because we can see that the\nmoon does not, as is evident from her always turning the same side to\nus,[197] nothing is needed but the simplest mathematics to demonstrate\nthe fallacy of his reasoning. Others had surmised that the Milky Way\nwas a collection of stars, and that comets were bodies of the same\nnature as planets. Aristotle is satisfied that both are appearances\nlike meteors, and the aurora borealis\u2014caused by the friction of our\natmosphere against the solid aether above it. A similar origin is\nascribed to the heat and light derived from the sun and stars; for it\nwould be derogatory to the dignity of those luminaries to suppose,\nwith Anaxagoras, that they are formed of anything so familiar and\nperishable as fire. On the contrary, they consist of pure aether like\nthe spheres on which they are fixed as protuberances; though how\nsuch an arrangement can co-exist with absolute contact between each\nsphere and that next below it, or how the effects of friction could\nbe transmitted through such enormous thicknesses of solid crystal, is\nleft unexplained.[198] By a happy anticipation of Roemer, Empedocles\nconjectured that the transmission of light occupied a certain time:\nAristotle declares it to be instantaneous.[199]\n\nOn passing to terrestrial physics, we find that Aristotle is, as usual,\nthe dupe of superficial appearances, against which other thinkers were\non their guard. Seeing that fire always moved up, he assumed that it\ndid so by virtue of a natural tendency towards the circumference of the\nuniverse, as opposed to earth, which always moved towards the centre.\nThe atomists erroneously held that all matter gravitated downwards\nthrough infinite space, but correctly explained the ascent of heated\nparticles by the pressure of surrounding matter, in accordance, most\nprobably, with the analogy of floating bodies.[200] Chemistry as a\nscience is, of course, an entirely modern creation, but the first\napproach to it was made by Democritus, while no ancient philosopher\nstood farther from its essential principles than Aristotle. He analyses\nbodies, not into their material elements, but into the sensuous\nqualities, hot and cold, wet and dry, between which he supposes the\nunderlying substance to be perpetually oscillating; a theory which, if\nit were true, would make any fixed laws of nature impossible.\n\nIt might have been expected that, on reaching physiology, the Stagirite\nwould stand on firmer ground than any of his contemporaries. Such,\nhowever, is not the case. As already observed, his achievements belong\nentirely to the dominion of anatomy and descriptive zoology. The whole\ninternal economy of the animal body is, according to him, designed\nfor the purpose of creating and moderating the vital heat; and in\napportioning their functions to the different organs he is entirely\ndominated by this fundamental error. It was a common notion among the\nGreeks, suggested by sufficiently obvious considerations, that the\nbrain is the seat of the psychic activities. These, however, Aristotle\ntransports to the heart, which, in his system, not only propels the\nblood through the body, but is also the source of heat, the common\ncentre where the different special sensations meet to be compared,\nand the organ of imagination and of passion. The sole function of\nthe brain is to cool down the blood\u2014a purpose which the lungs also\nsubserve. Some persons believe that air is a kind of food, and is\ninhaled in order to feed the internal fire; but their theory would\ninvolve the absurd consequence that all animals breathe, for all have\nsome heat. Anaxagoras and Diogenes did, indeed, make that assertion,\nand the latter even went so far as to say that fish breathe with\ntheir gills, absorbing the air held in solution by the water passed\nthrough them\u2014a misapprehension, says Aristotle, which arose from not\nhaving studied the final cause of respiration.[201] His physiological\ntheory of generation is equally unfortunate. In accordance with his\nmetaphysical system, hereafter to be explained, he distinguishes two\nelements in the reproductive process, of which one, that contributed by\nthe male, is exclusively formative; and the other, that contributed by\nthe female, exclusively material. The prevalent opinion was evidently,\nwhat we know now to be true, that each parent has both a formative and\na material share in the composition of the embryo. Again, Aristotle,\nstrangely enough, regards the generative element in both sexes as\nan unappropriated portion of the animal\u2019s nutriment, the last and\nmost refined product of digestion, and therefore not a portion of\nthe parental system at all; while other biologists, anticipating Mr.\nDarwin\u2019s theory of pangenesis in a very wonderful manner, taught that\nthe semen is a conflux of molecules derived from every part of the\nbody, and thus strove to account for the hereditary transmission of\nindividual peculiarities to offspring.[202]\n\nAll these, however, are mere questions of detail. It is on a subject of\nthe profoundest philosophical importance that Aristotle differs most\nconsciously, most radically, and most fatally from his predecessors.\nThey were evolutionists, and he was a stationarist. They were\nmechanicists, and he was a teleologist. They were uniformitarians, and\nhe was a dualist. It is true that, as we mentioned at the beginning of\nthis chapter, Mr. Edwin Wallace makes him \u2018recognise the genesis of\nthings by evolution and development,\u2019 but the meaning of this phrase\nrequires to be cleared up. In one sense it is, of course, almost an\nidentical proposition. The genesis of things must be by genesis of some\nkind or other. The great question is, what things have been evolved,\nand how have they been evolved? Modern science tells us, that not\nonly have all particular aggregates of matter and motion now existing\ncome into being within a finite period of time, but also that the\nspecific types under which we arrange those aggregates have equally\nbeen generated; and that their characteristics, whether structural\nor functional, can only be understood by tracing out their origin\nand history. And it further teaches us that the properties of every\naggregate result from the properties of its ultimate elements, which,\nwithin the limits of our experience, remain absolutely unchanged. Now,\nAristotle taught very nearly the contrary of all this. He believed\nthat the cosmos, as we now know it, had existed, and would continue\nto exist, unchanged through all eternity. The sun, moon, planets,\nand stars, together with the orbs containing them, are composed of\nan absolutely ungenerable, incorruptible substance. The earth, a\ncold, heavy, solid sphere, though liable to superficial changes, has\nalways occupied its present position in the centre of the universe.\nThe specific forms of animal life\u2014except a few which are produced\nspontaneously\u2014have, in like manner, been preserved unaltered through\nan infinite series of generations. Man shares the common lot. There is\nno continuous progress of civilisation. Every invention and discovery\nhas been made and lost an infinite number of times. Our philosopher\ncould not, of course, deny that individual living things come into\nexistence and gradually grow to maturity; but he insists that their\nformation is teleologically determined by the parental type which they\nare striving to realise. He asks whether we should study a thing by\nexamining how it grows, or by examining its completed form: and Mr.\nWallace quotes the question without quoting the answer.[203] Aristotle\ntells us that the genetic method was followed by his predecessors, but\nthat the other method is his. And he goes on to censure Empedocles for\nsaying that many things in the animal body are due simply to mechanical\ncausation; for example, the segmented structure of the backbone, which\nthat philosopher attributes to continued doubling and twisting\u2014the\nvery same explanation, we believe, that would be given of it by a\nmodern evolutionist.[204] Finally, Aristotle assumes the only sort of\ntransformation which we deny, and which Democritus equally denied\u2014that\nis to say, the transformation of the ultimate elements into one\nanother by the oscillation of an indeterminate matter between opposite\nqualities.\n\n\nVI.\n\nThe truth is that while our philosopher had one of the most powerful\nintellects ever possessed by any man, it was an intellect strictly\nlimited to the surface of things. He was utterly incapable of divining\nthe hidden forces by which inorganic nature and life and human society\nare moved. He had neither the genius which can reconstruct the past,\nnor the genius which partly moulds, partly foretells the future. But\nwherever he has to observe or to report, to enumerate or to analyse, to\ndescribe or to define, to classify or to compare; and whatever be the\nsubject, a mollusc or a mammal, a mouse or an elephant; the structure\nand habits of wild animals; the different stages in the development\nof an embryo bird; the variations of a single organ or function\nthrough the entire zoological series; the hierarchy of intellectual\nfaculties; the laws of mental association; the specific types of\nvirtuous character; the relation of equity to law; the relation of\nreason to impulse; the ideals of friendship; the different members of a\nhousehold; the different orders in a State; the possible variations of\npolitical constitutions, or within the same constitution; the elements\nof dramatic or epic poetry; the modes of predication; the principles\nof definition, classification, judgment, and reasoning; the different\nsystems of philosophy; all varieties of passion, all motives to action,\nall sources of conviction;\u2014there we find an enormous accumulation of\nknowledge, an unwearied patience of research, a sweep of comprehension,\na subtlety of discrimination, an accuracy of statement, an impartiality\nof decision, and an all-absorbing enthusiasm for science, which, if\nthey do not raise him to the supreme level of creative genius, entitle\nhim to rank a very little way below it.\n\nIt was natural that one who ranged with such consummate mastery over\nthe whole world of apparent reality, should believe in no other\nreality; that for him truth should only mean the systematisation of\nsense and language, of opinion, and of thought. The visible order of\nnature was present to his imagination in such precise determination\nand fulness of detail that it resisted any attempt he might have made\nto conceive it under a different form. Each of his conclusions was\nsupported by analogies from every other department of enquiry, because\nhe carried the peculiar limitations of his thinking faculty with him\nwherever he turned, and unconsciously accommodated every subject to the\nframework which they imposed. The clearness of his ideas necessitated\nthe use of sharply-drawn distinctions, which prevented the free play\nof generalisation and fruitful interchange of principles between the\ndifferent sciences. And we shall have occasion to show hereafter, that,\nwhen he attempted to combine rival theories, it was done by placing\nthem in juxtaposition rather than by mutual interpenetration. Again,\nwith his vivid perceptions, it was impossible for him to believe in\nthe justification of any method claiming to supersede, or even to\nsupplement, their authority. Hence he was hardly less opposed to the\natomism of Democritus than to the scepticism of Protagoras or the\nidealism of Plato. Hence, also, his dislike for all explanations which\nassumed that there were hidden processes at work below the surface\nof things, even taking surface in its most literal sense. Thus, in\ndiscussing the question why the sea is salt, he will not accept the\ntheory that rivers dissolve out the salt from the strata through which\nthey pass, and carry it down to the sea, because river-water tastes\nfresh; and propounds in its stead the utterly false hypothesis of a\ndry saline evaporation from the earth\u2019s surface, which he supposes to\nbe swept seawards by the wind.[205] Even in his own especial province\nof natural history the same tendency leads him astray. He asserts that\nthe spider throws off its web from the surface of its body like a skin,\ninstead of evolving it from within, as Democritus had taught.[206] The\nsame thinker had endeavoured to prove by analogical reasoning that the\ninvertebrate animals must have viscera, and that only their extreme\nminuteness prevents us from perceiving them; a view which his successor\nwill not admit.[207] In fact, wherever the line between the visible and\nthe invisible is crossed, Aristotle\u2019s powers are suddenly paralysed, as\nif by enchantment.\n\nAnother circumstance which led Aristotle to disregard the happy aper\u00e7us\nof earlier philosophers was his vast superiority to them in positive\nknowledge. It never occurred to him that their sagacity might be\ngreater than his, precisely because its exercise was less impeded by\nthe labour of acquiring and retaining such immense masses of irrelevant\nfacts. And his confidence was still further enhanced by the conviction\nthat all previous systems were absorbed into his own, their scattered\ntruths co-ordinated, their aberrations corrected, and their discords\nreconciled. But in striking a general average of existing philosophies,\nhe was in reality bringing them back to that anonymous philosophy which\nis embodied in common language and common opinion. And if he afterwards\nruled the minds of men with a more despotic sway than any other\nintellectual master, it was because he gave an organised expression to\nthe principle of authority, which, if it could, would stereotype and\nperpetuate the existing type of civilisation for all time.\n\nHere, then, are three main points of distinction between our\nphilosopher and his precursors, the advantage being, so far, entirely\non their side. He did not, like the Ionian physiologists, anticipate\nin outline our theories of evolution. He held that the cosmos had\nalways been, by the strictest necessity, arranged in the same manner;\nthe starry revolutions never changing; the four elements preserving\na constant balance; the earth always solid; land and water always\ndistributed according to their present proportions; living species\ntransmitting the same unalterable type through an infinite series of\ngenerations; the human race enjoying an eternal duration, but from time\nto time losing all its conquests in some great physical catastrophe,\nand obliged to begin over again with the depressing consciousness that\nnothing could be devised which had not been thought of an infinite\nnumber of times already; the existing distinctions between Hellenes and\nbarbarians, masters and slaves, men and women, grounded on everlasting\nnecessities of nature. He did not, like Democritus, distinguish between\nobjective and subjective properties of matter; nor admit that void\nspace extends to infinity round the starry sphere, and honeycombs the\nobjects which seem most incompressible and continuous to our senses. He\ndid not hope, like Socrates, for the regeneration of the individual,\nnor, like Plato, for the regeneration of the race, by enlightened\nthought. It seemed as if Philosophy, abdicating her high function, and\nobstructing the paths which she had first opened, were now content to\nsystematise the forces of prejudice, blindness, immobility, and despair.\n\nFor the restrictions under which Aristotle thought were not determined\nby his personality alone; they followed on the logical development of\nspeculation, and would have imposed themselves on any other thinker\nequally capable of carrying that development to its predetermined goal.\nThe Ionian search for a primary cause and substance of nature led to\nthe distinction, made almost simultaneously, although from opposite\npoints of view, by Parmenides and Heracleitus, between appearance and\nreality. From that distinction sprang the idea of mind, organised by\nSocrates into a systematic study of ethics and dialectics. Time and\nspace, the necessary conditions of physical causality, were eliminated\nfrom a method having for its form the eternal relations of difference\nand resemblance, for its matter the present interests of humanity.\nSocrates taught that before enquiring whence things come we must\nfirst determine what it is they are. Hence he reduced science to the\nframing of exact definitions. Plato followed on the same track, and\nrefused to answer a single question about anything until the subject of\ninvestigation had been clearly determined. But the form of causation\nhad taken such a powerful hold on Greek thought, that it could not\nbe immediately shaken off; and Plato, as he devoted more and more\nattention to the material universe, saw himself compelled, like the\nolder philosophers, to explain its construction by tracing out the\nhistory of its growth. What is even more significant, he applied the\nsame method to ethics and politics, finding it easier to describe how\nthe various virtues and types of social union came into existence,\nthan to analyse and classify them as fixed ideas without reference to\ntime. Again, while taking up the Eleatic antithesis of reality and\nappearance, and re-interpreting it as a distinction between noumena and\nphenomena, ideas and sensations, spirit and matter, he was impelled by\nthe necessity of explaining himself, and by the actual limitations of\nexperience to assimilate the two opposing series, or, at least, to view\nthe fleeting, superficial images as a reflection and adumbration of the\nbeing which they concealed. And of all material objects, it seemed as\nif the heavenly bodies, with their orderly, unchanging movements, their\nclear brilliant light, and their remoteness from earthly impurities,\nbest represented the philosopher\u2019s ideal. Thus, Plato, while on the\none side he reaches back to the pre-Socratic age, on the other reaches\nforward to the Aristotelian system.\n\nNor was this all. As the world of sense was coming back into\nfavour, the world of reason was falling into disrepute. Just as the\nold physical philosophy had been decomposed by the Sophisticism\nof Protagoras and Gorgias, so also the dialectic of Socrates was\ncorrupted into the sophistry of Eubulides and Euthyd\u00eamus. Plato himself\ndiscovered that by reasoning deductively from purely abstract premises,\ncontradictory conclusions could be established with apparently equal\nforce. It was difficult to see how a decision could be arrived at\nexcept by appealing to the testimony of sense. And a moral reform could\nhardly be effected except by similarly taking into account the existing\nbeliefs and customs of mankind.\n\nIt is possible, we think, to trace a similar evolution in the history\nof the Attic drama. The tragedies of Aeschylus resemble the old Ionian\nphilosophy in this, that they are filled with material imagery,\nand that they deal with remote interests, remote times, and remote\nplaces. Sophocles withdraws his action into the subjective sphere, and\nsimultaneously works out a pervading contrast between the illusions by\nwhich men are either lulled to false security or racked with needless\nanguish, and the terrible or consolatory reality to which they finally\nawaken. We have also, in his well-known irony, in the unconscious\nself-betrayal of his characters, that subtle evanescent allusiveness\nto a hidden truth, that gleaming of reality through appearance which\nconstitutes, first the dialectic, then the mythical illustration,\nand finally the physics of Plato. In Aeschylus also we have the\nspectacle of sudden and violent vicissitudes, the abasement of insolent\nprosperity, and the punishment of long successful crime; only with him\nthe characters which attract most interest are not the blind victims,\nbut the accomplices or the confidants of destiny\u2014the great figures of\na Prometheus, a Darius, an Eteocles, a Clytemnestra, and a Cassandra,\nwho are raised above the common level to an eminence where the\nsecrets of past and future are unfolded to their gaze. Far otherwise\nwith Sophocles. The leading actors in his most characteristic works,\nOedipus, Electra, Dejanira, Ajax, and Philoctetes, are surrounded by\nforces which they can neither control nor understand; moving in a\nworld of illusion, if they help to work out their own destinies it is\nunconsciously, or even in direct opposition to their own designs.[208]\nHence in Aeschylus we have something like that superb self-confidence\nwhich distinguishes a Parmenides and a Heracleitus; in Sophocles that\nconfession of human ignorance which the Athenian philosophers made\non their own behalf, or strove to extract from others. Euripides\nintroduces us to another mode of thought, more akin to that which\ncharacterises Aristotle. For, although there is abundance of mystery\nin his tragedies, it has not the profound religious significance of\nthe Sophoclean irony; he uses it rather for romantic and sentimental\npurposes, for the construction of an intricate plot, or for the\ncreation of pathetic situations. His whole power is thrown into the\nimmediate and detailed representation of living passion, and of the\nsurroundings in which it is displayed, without going far back into its\nhistorical antecedents like Aeschylus, or, like Sophocles, into the\ndivine purposes which underlie it. On the other hand, as a Greek writer\ncould not be other than philosophical, he uses particular incidents\nas an occasion for wide generalisations and dialectical discussions;\nthese, and not the idea of justice or of destiny, being the pedestal\non which his figures are set. And it may be noticed as another curious\ncoincidence that, like Aristotle again, he is disposed to criticise his\npredecessors, or at least one of them, Aeschylus, with some degree of\nasperity.\n\nThe critical tendency just alluded to suggests one more reason why\nphilosophy, from having been a method of discovery, should at last\nbecome a mere method of description and arrangement. The materials\naccumulated by nearly three centuries of observation and reasoning were\nso enormous that they began to stifle the imaginative faculty. If there\nwas any opening for originality it lay in the task of carrying order\ninto this chaos by reducing it to a few general heads, by mapping out\nthe whole field of knowledge, and subjecting each particular branch to\nthe new-found processes of definition and classification. And along\nwith the incapacity for framing new theories there arose a desire to\ndiminish the number of those already existing, to frame, if possible, a\nsystem which should select and combine whatever was good in any or all\nof them.\n\n\nVII.\n\nThis, then, was the revolution effected by Aristotle, that he found\nGreek thought in the form of a solid, and unrolled into a surface of\nthe utmost possible tenuity, transparency, and extension. In so doing,\nhe completed what Socrates and Plato had begun, he paralleled the\ncourse already described by Greek poetry, and he offered the first\nexample of what since then has more than once recurred in the history\nof philosophy. It was thus that the residual substance of Locke and\nBerkeley was resolved into phenomenal succession by Hume. It was thus\nthat the unexplained reality of Kant and Fichte was drawn out into\na play of logical relations by Hegel. And, if we may venture on a\nforecast of the future towards which speculation is now advancing,\nit is thus that the limits imposed on human knowledge by positivists\nand agnostics in our own day, are yielding to the criticism of those\nwho wish to establish either a perfect identity or a perfect equation\nbetween consciousness and being. This is the position represented in\nFrance by M. Taine, a thinker offering many points of resemblance to\nAristotle, which it would be interesting to work out had we space at\nour command for the purpose. The forces which are now guiding English\nphilosophy in an analogous direction have hitherto escaped observation\non account of their disunion among themselves, and their intermixture\nwith others of a different character. But on the whole we may say\nthat the philosophy of Mill and his school corresponds very nearly in\nits practical idealism to Plato\u2019s teaching; that Mr. Herbert Spencer\napproaches Aristotle on the side of theorising systematisation, while\nsharing to a more limited extent the metaphysical and political realism\nwhich accompanied it: that Lewes was carrying the same transformation\na step further in his unfinished _Problems of Life and Mind_; that the\nphilosophy of Mr. Shadworth Hodgson is marked by the same spirit of\nactuality, though not without a vista of multitudinous possibilities\nin the background; that the Neo-Hegelian school are trying to do over\nagain for us what their master did in Germany; and that the lamented\nProfessor Clifford had already given promise of one more great attempt\nto widen the area of our possible experience into co-extension with the\nwhole domain of Nature.[209]\n\nThe systematising power of Aristotle, his faculty for bringing the\nisolated parts of a surface into co-ordination and continuity, is\napparent even in those sciences with whose material truths he was\nutterly unacquainted. Apart from the falseness of their fundamental\nassumptions, his scientific treatises are, for their time, masterpieces\nof method. In this respect they far surpass his moral and metaphysical\nworks, and they are also written in a much more vigorous style,\noccasionally even rising into eloquence. He evidently moves with much\nmore assurance on the solid ground of external nature than in the\ncloudland of Platonic dialectics, or among the possibilities of an\nideal morality. If, for example, we open his _Physics_, we shall find\nsuch notions as Causation, Infinity, Matter, Space, Time, Motion, and\nForce, for the first time in history separately discussed, defined,\nand made the foundation of natural philosophy. The treatise _On the\nHeavens_ very properly regards the celestial movements as a purely\nmechanical problem, and strives throughout to bring theory and\npractice into complete agreement. While directly contradicting the\ntruths of modern astronomy, it stands on the same ground with them;\nand anyone who had mastered it would be far better prepared to receive\nthose truths than if he were only acquainted with such a work as\nPlato\u2019s _Timaeus_. The remaining portions of Aristotle\u2019s scientific\nencyclopaedia follow in perfect logical order, and correspond very\nnearly to Auguste Comte\u2019s classification, if, indeed, they did not\ndirectly or indirectly suggest it. We cannot, however, view the\nlabours of Aristotle with unmixed satisfaction until he comes on to\ndeal with the provinces of natural history, comparative anatomy, and\ncomparative psychology. Here, as we have shown, the subject exactly\nsuited the comprehensive observation and systematising formalism in\nwhich he excelled. Here, accordingly, not only the method but the\nmatter of his teaching is good. In theorising about the causes of\nphenomena he was behind the best science of his age; in dissecting\nthe phenomena themselves he was far before it. Of course very much\nof what he tells was learned at second-hand, and some of it is not\nauthentic. But to collect such masses of information from the reports\nof uneducated hunters, fishermen, grooms, shepherds, beemasters,\nand the like, required an extraordinary power of putting pertinent\nquestions, such as could only be acquired in the school of Socratic\ndialectic. Nor should we omit to notice the vivid intelligence which\nenabled even ordinary Greeks to supply him with the facts required for\nhis generalisations. But some of his most important researches must be\nentirely original. For instance, he must have traced the development\nof the embryo chicken with his own eyes; and, here, we have it on good\nauthority that his observations are remarkable for their accuracy, in\na field where accuracy, according to Caspar Friedrich Wolff, is almost\nimpossible.[210]\n\nStill more important than these observations themselves is the great\ntruth he derives from them\u2014since rediscovered and worked out in detail\nby Von Baer\u2014that in the development of each individual the generic\ncharacters make their appearance before the specific characters.[211]\nNor is this a mere accidental or isolated remark, but, as we shall show\nin the next chapter, intimately connected with one of the philosopher\u2019s\nmetaphysical theories. Although not an evolutionist, he has made other\ncontributions to biology, the importance of which has been first\nrealised in the light of the evolution theory. Thus he notices the\nantagonism between individuation and reproduction;[212] the connexion\nof increased size with increased vitality;[213] the connexion of\ngreater mobility,[214] and of greater intelligence,[215] with increased\ncomplexity of structure; the physiological division of labour in the\nhigher animals;[216] the formation of heterogeneous organs out of\nhomogeneous tissues;[217] the tendency towards greater centralisation\nin the higher organisms[218]\u2014a remark connected with his two great\nanatomical discoveries, the central position of the heart in the\nvascular system, and the possession of a backbone by all red-blooded\nanimals;[219] the resemblance of animal intelligence to a rudimentary\nhuman intelligence, especially as manifested in children;[220] and,\nfinally, he attempts to trace a continuous series of gradations\nconnecting the inorganic with the organic world, plants with animals,\nand the lower animals with man.[221]\n\nThe last mentioned principle gives one more illustration of the\ndistinction between Aristotle\u2019s system and that of the evolutionist,\nproperly so called. The continuity recognised by the former only\nobtains among a number of coexisting types; it is a purely logical\nor ideal arrangement, facilitating the acquisition and retention of\nknowledge, but adding nothing to its real content. The continuity of\nthe latter implies a causal connexion between successive types evolved\nfrom each other by the action of mechanical forces. Moreover, our\nmodern theory, while accounting for whatever is true in Aristotle\u2019s\nconception, serves, at the same time, to correct its exaggeration. The\ntotality of existing species only imperfectly fill up the interval\nbetween the highest human life and the inorganic matter from which\nwe assume it to be derived, because they are collaterally, and not\nlineally, related. Probably no one of them corresponds to any less\ndeveloped stage of another, although some have preserved, with more\nconstancy than others, the features of a common parent. In diverging\nfrom a single stock (if we accept the monogenetic hypothesis,) they\nhave become separated by considerable spaces, which the innumerable\nmultitude of extinct species alone could fill up.\n\nOur preliminary survey of the subject is now completed. So far, we have\nbeen engaged in studying the mind of Aristotle rather than his system\nof philosophy. In the next chapter we shall attempt to give a more\ncomplete account of that system in its internal organisation not less\nthan in its relations to modern science and modern thought.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[161] _Aristotelis Opera._ Edidit Academia Regia Borussica. Berlin.\n1831-70.\n\n[162] _Die Philosophie der Griechen._ Zweiter Theil, Zweite Abtheilung:\n_Aristoteles u. d. alten Peripatetiker_. By Dr. Eduard Zeller. Leipzig.\n1879.\n\n[163] _Aristoteles._ By Christian Aug. Brandis. Berlin. 1853-57.\n\n[164] _Aristotle._ By Sir Alexander Grant, Bart., LL.D. Edinburgh and\nLondon. 1877.\n\n[165] _Outlines of the Philosophy of Aristotle._ Compiled by Edwin\nWallace, M.A. Oxford and London. 1880.\n\n[166] _De la M\u00e9taphysique: Introduction \u00e0 la M\u00e9taphysique d\u2019 Aristote._\nBy Barth\u00e9lemy Saint-Hilaire. Paris. 1879.\n\n[167] Wallace\u2019s _Outlines_, preface, pp. vi-viii.\n\n[168] As will be shown in the next chapter.\n\n[169] _Outlines_, pp. 29 and 38.\n\n[170] Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 513.\n\n[171] _Ibid._, p. 407.\n\n[172] Written before the appearance of Teichm\u00fcller\u2019s _Lit. Fehden_\n(already referred to in the preceding chapter).\n\n[173] Zeller\u2019s opinion that all the Platonic Dialogues except the\n_Laws_ were composed before Aristotle\u2019s arrival in Athens, does not\nseem to be supported by any satisfactory evidence. [Since the above was\nfirst published I have found that a similar view of the _Parmenides_\nhad already been maintained by Tocco (_Ricerche Platoniche_, p. 105);\nand afterwards, but independently, by Teichm\u00fcller (_Neue Studien_, III.\n363). See Chiapelli, _Della Interpretazione panteistica di Platone_, p.\n152.]\n\n[174] Teichm\u00fcller infers, from certain expressions in the\n_Panathenaicus_ of Isocrates, that Aristotle had returned from Mityl\u00ean\u00ea\nto Athens and resumed his former position as a teacher of rhetoric when\nthe summons to Pella reached him. (_Lit. Fehden_, 261.)\n\n[175] _Gesch. d. Phil._, II., 302.\n\n[176] Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 25.\n\n[177] Cf. Teichm\u00fcller, _Lit. Fehden_, 192.\n\n[178] Zeller, p. 38.\n\n[179] Ritter and Preller, _Hist. Ph._, p. 329.\n\n[180] Zeller, p. 41, _note_ 2.\n\n[181] Diog. L., V., 17-21.\n\n[182] Grant\u2019s _Aristotle_, p. 7.\n\n[183] We think, however, that Mr. Edwin Wallace has overstated the\ncase, when he makes Aristotle say that \u2018democracy is not unlikely with\nthe spread of population to become the ultimate form of government; and\nmay be anticipated without dread by considering that the _collective_\nvoice of a people is as likely to be sound in state administration as\nin criticisms on art,\u2019 pp. 57-8. In the first place, the expressions\nof opinion which are brought together in Mr. Wallace\u2019s summary are\nseparated in the original text by a considerable interval\u2014an important\ncircumstance when we are dealing with so inconsistent a writer; then\nwhat Aristotle says about the collective wisdom of the people, besides\nbeing advanced with extreme hesitation, is not a reassurance against\nany danger to be dreaded from their supremacy, but an answer to the\nargument that the few had a natural right to political power from their\ngreater wealth and better education; the whole question being, in this\nconnexion, one of political justice, not of political expediency;\nfinally, not only is \u2018ultimate form of government\u2019 a very strong\nrendering of the Greek words, but what Aristotle says on the subject in\nhis third book is virtually retracted in the fifth, where oligarchy,\ndemocracy, and tyranny are regarded as succeeding each other in any\norder indifferently, and Plato (or the Platonic Socrates) is censured\nfor assuming a constant sequence of revolutions. The explanation of\nthis change seems to be that when Aristotle wrote his third book he\nwas only acquainted with the history of Athens and a few other of\nthe greater states, but that subsequently a vast collection of facts\nbearing on the subject came to his knowledge, showing that each form of\ngovernment embraced more varieties and admitted of more mutations than\nhe had been originally aware of; and this led to a complete recast of\nhis opinions.\n\n[184] Many of the topics noted are not only trite enough, but have no\npossible bearing on the subject under which they stand. For instance,\nin discussing judicial eloquence Aristotle goes into the motives for\ncommitting crime; among these are pleasurable feelings of every kind,\nincluding the remembrance of past trouble. Even the hero of a spasmodic\ntragedy would hardly have committed an offence for the purpose of\nprocuring himself this form of experience.\n\n[185] _Poet._, xv., p. 1454, a, 20.\n\n[186]\n\n    \u039c\u03ac\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u1f04\u03c1\u2019 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03b3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u1fd6\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f10\u03be \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c8\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2\n    \u03a8\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b5\u03bd\u1f78\u03bd \u03c4\u03cc\u03be\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1ff6\u03c2 \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9.\n    \u03b1\u1f31 \u03b4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f34\u03c3\u2019 \u1f00\u03bc\u03b5\u03af\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c1\u03c3\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd, \u1f10\u03b3\u1f7c \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03c9.\n                  Euripides, _Frag._ 512. (Didot.)\n\n[187] _Poet._, xiii., p. 1453, a, 8.\n\n[188] _Pol._, VIII., vii., p. 1342, a, 10.\n\n[189] Zeller, p. 780.\n\n[190] As an illustration of the stimulating effect produced by the\nstudy of Aristotle\u2019s logic, we quote the following anecdote from the\nnotes to Whately\u2019s edition of Bacon\u2019s _Essays_:\u2014\u2018The late Sir Alexander\nJohnstone, when acting as temporary Governor of Ceylon (soon after its\ncession), sat once as judge in a trial of a prisoner for a robbery\nand murder; and the evidence seemed to him so conclusive, that he\nwas about to charge the jury (who were native Cingalese) to find a\nverdict of guilty. But one of the jurors asked and obtained permission\nto examine the witnesses himself. He had them brought in one by one,\nand cross-examined them so ably as to elicit the fact that they were\n_themselves_ the perpetrators of the crime, which they afterwards had\nconspired to impute to the prisoner. And they were accordingly put on\ntheir trial and convicted. Sir Alexander Johnstone was greatly struck\nby the intelligence displayed by this juror, the more so as he was only\na small farmer, who was not known to have had any remarkable advantages\nof education. He sent for him, and after commending the wonderful\nsagacity he had shown, inquired eagerly what his studies had been.\nThe man replied that he had never read but one book, the only one he\npossessed, which had long been in his family, and which he delighted\nto study in his leisure hours. This book he was prevailed on to show\nto Sir Alexander Johnstone, who put it into the hands of one who knew\nthe Cingalese language. It turned out to be a translation into that\nlanguage of a large portion of Aristotle\u2019s _Organon_. It appears that\nthe Portuguese, when they first settled in Ceylon and other parts of\nthe East, translated into the native languages several of the works\nthen studied in the European Universities, among which were the Latin\nversions of Aristotle. The Cingalese in question said that if his\nunderstanding had been in any degree cultivated and improved, it was\nto that book that he owed it. It is likely, however (as was observed\nto me [Whately] by the late Bishop Copleston), that any other book,\ncontaining an equal amount of close reasoning and accurate definition,\nmight have answered the same purpose in sharpening the intellect of the\nCingalese.\u2019 Possibly, but not to the same effect. What the Cingalese\ngot into his hands was a triple-distilled essence of Athenian legal\nprocedure. The cross-examining elenchus was first borrowed by Socrates\nfrom the Athenian courts and applied to philosophical purposes; it was\nstill further elaborated by Plato, and finally reduced to abstract\nrules by Aristotle; so that in using it as he did the juror was only\nrestoring it to its original purposes.\n\n[191] _Metaph._, XII., vii., p. 1072, b, 13.\n\n[192] _Eth. Nic._, X., vii. (somewhat condensed).\n\n[193] It is perfectly possible that Aristotle was not acquainted at\nfirst hand with human anatomy. But Sir A. Grant is hardly justified in\nobserving that the words quoted above \u2018do not show the hardihood of the\npractised dissecter\u2019 (_Aristotle_, p 3). Aristotle simply takes the\npopular point of view in order to prove that the internal structure\nof the lower animals is no more offensive to the eye than that of\nman. And, as he took so much delight in the former, nothing but want\nof opportunity is likely to have prevented him from extending his\nresearches to the latter.\n\n[194] _De Part. An._, I. v.\n\n[195] Compare the arguments in _Phys._, IV., ix.\n\n[196] The hypothesis of the earth\u2019s diurnal rotation had clearly\nbeen suggested by a celebrated passage in Plato\u2019s _Timaeus_, though\nwhether Plato himself held it is still doubtful. That he accepted the\nrevolution of the celestial spheres is absolutely certain; but while\nto our minds the two beliefs are mutually exclusive, Grote thinks that\nPlato overlooked the inconsistency. It seems probable that the one was\nat first actually a generalisation from the other; it was thought that\nthe earth must revolve _because_ the crystal spheres revolved; then the\nnew doctrine, thus accidentally struck out, was used to destroy the old\none.\n\n[197] _De Coel._, II., viii., 290, a, 26.\n\n[198] Zeller, p. 469.\n\n[199] _De Sens._, vi., 446, a, 26.\n\n[200] _De Coel._, I., viii., 277, b, 2.\n\n[201] _De Respir._, i. and ii.\n\n[202] _De Gen. An._, I., xvii.\n\n[203] _Outlines_, p. 30.\n\n[204] There is a passage in the _Politics_ (I., ii., _sub. in._) in\nwhich Aristotle distinctly inculcates the method of studying things\nby observing how they are first produced, and how they grow; but this\nis quite inconsistent with the more deliberate opinion referred to in\nthe text (_De Part. An._, I., i., p. 640, a, 10). Perhaps, in writing\nthe first book of the _Politics_ he was more immediately under the\ninfluence of Plato, who preferred the old genetic method in practice,\nthough not in theory.\n\n[205] _Meteor._, II., iii., 357, a, 15 ff.\n\n[206] _Hist. An._, IX., xxxix., _sub fin._\n\n[207] _De Part. An._, III., iv., _sub in._\n\n[208] This characterisation applies neither to the _Antigone_ nor to\nthe _Oedipus in Col\u00f4nus_, the first and the last extant dramas of\nSophocles. The reason is that the one is still half Aeschylean, and the\nother distinctly an imitation of Euripides.\n\n[209] Cf. the memorable declaration of Mr. F. Pollock: \u2018To me it\namounts to a contradiction in terms to speak of unknowable existence or\nunknowable reality in an absolute sense. I cannot tell what existence\nmeans if not the possibility of being known or perceived.\u2019\u2014_Spinoza_,\np. 163.\n\n[210] _Aristoteles von d. Zeugung u. Entwickelung d. Thiere._ Aubert u.\nWimmer, Einleitung, p. 15.\n\n[211] _De Gen. An._, II., iii., 736, b, 1.\n\n[212] _Ibid._, I., xviii., 725, b, 25.\n\n[213] _De Respir._, 477, a, 18.\n\n[214] _De Part. An._, I., vii., _sub. in._\n\n[215] _Ibid._, II., x., 656, a, 4.\n\n[216] _Ibid._, IV., vi., 683, a, 25.\n\n[217] _Ibid._, II., i.\n\n[218] _Ibid._, IV., v., 682, a, 8; _De Long._, vi., 467, a, 18; _De\nIngr. An._, vii., 707, a, 24.\n\n[219] _De Part. An._, II., ix., 664, b, 11; Zeller, p. 522.\n\n[220] _Hist. An._, VIII., i., _sub in._\n\n[221] Zeller, p. 553.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nTHE SYSTEMATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ARISTOTLE.\n\n\nI.\n\nWe have considered the Aristotelian philosophy in relation to the great\nconcrete interests of life, morals, politics, literature, and science.\nWe have now to ask what it has to tell us about the deepest and gravest\nproblems of any, the first principles of Being and Knowing, God and\nthe soul, spirit and matter, metaphysics, psychology, and logic. We\nsaw that very high claims were advanced on behalf of Aristotle in\nrespect to his treatment of these topics; and had we begun with them,\nwe should only have been following the usual example of his expositors.\nWe have, however, preferred keeping them to the last, that our\nreaders might acquire some familiarity with the Aristotelian method,\nby seeing it applied to subjects where the results were immediately\nintelligible, and could be tested by an appeal to the experience of\ntwenty-two centuries. We know that there are some who will demur\nto this proceeding, who will say that Aristotle the metaphysician\nstands on quite different ground from Aristotle the man of science,\nbecause in the one capacity he had, and in the other capacity he had\nnot, sufficient facts to warrant an authoritative conclusion. They\nwill say, with Prof. St. George Mivart, that in accumulating natural\nknowledge men\u2019s minds have become deadened to spiritual truth; or with\nMr. Edwin Wallace, that the questions opened by Aristotle have not\nyet been closed, and that we may with advantage begin our study of\nthem under his guidance. We, on the other hand, will endeavour to show\nthat there is a unity of composition running through the Stagirite\u2019s\nentire labours, that they everywhere manifest the same excellences and\ndefects, which are those of an anatomising, critical, descriptive,\nclassificatory genius; that his most important conclusions, however\ngreat their historical interest, are without any positive or even\neducational value for us, being almost entirely based on false physical\nassumptions; that his ontology and psychology are not what his admirers\nsuppose them to be; and that his logic, though meriting our gratitude,\nis far too confused and incomplete to throw any light on the questions\nraised by modern thinkers.\n\nHere, as elsewhere, we shall employ the genetic method of\ninvestigation. Aristotle\u2019s writings do not, indeed, present that\ngradual development of ideas which makes the Platonic Dialogues so\ninteresting. Still they exhibit traces of such a development, and the\nmost important among them seems to have been compiled from notes taken\nby the philosopher before his conclusions were definitely reasoned\nout, or worked up into a consistent whole. It is this fragmentary\ncollection which, from having been placed by some unknown editor after\nthe _Physics_, has received a name still associated with every kind of\nspeculation that cannot be tested by a direct or indirect appeal to the\nevidence of external sense.\n\nWhether there exist any realities beyond what are revealed to us\nby this evidence, and what sensible evidence itself may be worth,\nwere problems already actively canvassed in Aristotle\u2019s time. His\n_Metaphysics_ at once takes us into the thick of the debate. The\nfirst question of that age was, What are the causes and principles of\nthings? On one side stood the materialists\u2014the old Ionian physicists\nand their living representatives. They said that all things came from\nwater or air or fire, or from a mixture of the four elements, or from\nthe interaction of opposites, such as wet and dry, hot and cold.\nAristotle, following in the track of his master, Plato, blames them\nfor ignoring the incorporeal substances, by which he does not mean\nwhat would now be understood\u2014feelings or states of consciousness, or\neven the spiritual substratum of consciousness\u2014but rather the general\nqualities or assemblages of qualities which remain constant amid the\nfluctuations of sensible phenomena; considered, let us observe, not as\nsubjective thoughts, but as objective realities. Another deficiency in\nthe older physical theories is that they either ignore the efficient\ncause of motion altogether (like Thales), or assign causes not adequate\nto the purpose (like Empedocles); or when they hit on the true cause\ndo not make the right use of it (like Anaxagoras). Lastly, they have\nomitted to study the final cause of a thing\u2014the good for which it\nexists.\n\nThe teleology of Aristotle requires a word of explanation, which may\nappropriately find its place in the present connexion. In speaking\nof a purpose in Nature, he does not mean that natural productions\nsubserve an end lying outside themselves; as if, to use Goethe\u2019s\nillustration, the bark of cork-trees was intended to be made into\nstoppers for ginger-beer bottles; but that in every perfect thing the\nparts are interdependent, and exist for the sake of the whole to which\nthey belong. Nor does he, like so many theologians, both ancient and\nmodern, argue from the evidence of design in Nature to the operation\nof a designing intelligence outside her. Not believing in any creation\nat all apart from works of art, he could not believe in a creative\nintelligence other than that of man. He does, indeed, constantly speak\nof Nature as if she were a personal providence, continually exerting\nherself for the good of her creatures. But, on looking a little closer,\nwe find that the agency in question is completely unconscious, and\nmay be identified with the constitution of each particular thing, or\nrather of the type to which it belongs. We have said that Aristotle\u2019s\nintellect was essentially descriptive, and we have here another\nillustration of its characteristic quality. The teleology which he\nparades with so much pomp adds nothing to our knowledge of causes,\nimplies nothing that a positivist need not readily accept. It is a\nmere study of functions, an analysis of statical relations. Of course,\nif there were really any philosophers who said that the connexion\nbetween teeth and mastication was entirely accidental, the Aristotelian\ndoctrine was a useful protest against such an absurdity; but when we\nhave established a fixed connexion between organ and function, we are\nbound to explain the association in some more satisfactory manner than\nby reaffirming it in general terms, which is all that Aristotle ever\ndoes. Again, whatever may be the relative justification of teleology\nas a study of functions in the living body, we have no grounds for\ninterpreting the phenomena of inorganic nature on an analogous\nprinciple. Some Greek philosophers were acute enough to perceive the\ndistinction. While admitting that plants and animals showed traces of\ndesign, they held that the heavenly bodies arose spontaneously from\nthe movements of a vortex or some such cause;[222] just as certain\nreligious savants of our own day reject the Darwinian theory while\naccepting the nebular hypothesis.[223] But to Aristotle the unbroken\nregularity of the celestial movements, which to us is the best proof\nof their purely mechanical nature, was, on the contrary, a proof that\nthey were produced and directed by an absolutely reasonable purpose;\nmuch more so indeed than terrestrial organisms, marked as these are by\noccasional deviations and imperfections; and he concludes that each\nof those movements must be directed towards the attainment of some\ncorrespondingly consummate end;[224] while, again, in dealing with\nthose precursors of Mr. Darwin, if such they can be called, who argued\nthat the utility of an organ does not disprove its spontaneous origin,\nsince only the creatures which, by a happy accident, came to possess\nit would survive\u2014he answers that the constant reproduction of such\norgans is enough to vindicate them from being the work of chance;[225]\nthus displaying his inability to distinguish between the two ideas of\nuniform causation and design.\n\nAs a result of the foregoing criticism, Aristotle distinguishes four\ndifferent causes or principles by which all things are determined\nto be what they are\u2014Matter, Form, Agent, and Purpose.[226] If, for\nexample, we take a saw, the matter is steel; the form, a toothed\nblade; the agent or cause of its assuming that shape, a smith; the\npurpose, to divide wood or stone. When we have enumerated these four\nprinciples, we have told everything that can be known about a saw.\nBut Aristotle could not keep the last three separate; he gradually\nextended the definition of form until it absorbed, or became identified\nwith, agent and purpose.[227] It was what we should call the idea\nof function that facilitated the transition. If the very essence or\nnature of a saw implies use, activity, movement, how can we define it\nwithout telling its purpose? The toothed blade is only intelligible as\na cutting, dividing instrument. Again, how came the saw into being?\nWhat shaped the steel into that particular form? We have said that\nit was the smith. But surely that is too vague. The smith is a man,\nand may be able to exercise other trades as well. Suppose him to be a\nmusician, did he make the saw in that capacity? No; and here comes in\na distinction which plays an immense part in Aristotle\u2019s metaphysics,\nwhence it has passed into our every-day speech. He does not make the\nsaw _qu\u00e2_ musician but _qu\u00e2_ smith. He can, however, in the exercise\nof his trade as smith make many other tools\u2014knives, axes, and so\nforth. Nevertheless, had he only learned to make saws it would be\nenough. Therefore, he does not make the saw _qu\u00e2_ axe-maker, he makes\nit _qu\u00e2_ saw-maker. Nor, again, does he make it with his whole mind\nand body, but only with just those thoughts and movements required to\ngive the steel that particular shape. Now, what are these thoughts but\nthe idea of a saw present in his mind and passing through his eyes\nand hands, till it fixes itself on the steel? The immaterial form of\na saw creates the real saw which we use. Let us apply the preceding\nanalogies to a natural object; for example, a man. What is the Form,\nthe definition of a man? Not a being possessing a certain outward\nshape, for then a marble statue would be a man, which it is not; nor\nyet a certain assemblage of organs, for then a corpse would be a man,\nwhich, according to Aristotle, criticising Democritus, it is not; but\na living, feeling, and reasoning being, the end of whose existence is\nto fulfil all the functions involved in this definition. So, also, the\ncreative cause of a man is another man, who directly impresses the\nhuman form on the material supplied by the female organism. In the same\nway, every definite individual aggregate becomes what it is through the\nagency of another individual representing the same type in its perfect\nmanifestation.[228]\n\nThe substantial forms of Aristotle, combining as they do the notion\nof a definition with that of a moving cause and a fulfilled purpose,\nare evidently derived from the Platonic Ideas; a reflection which\nat once leads us to consider the relation in which he stands to\nthe spiritualism of Plato and to the mathematical idealism of the\nNeo-Pythagoreans. He agrees with them in thinking that general\nconceptions are the sole object of knowledge\u2014the sole enduring reality\nin a world of change. He differs from them in maintaining that such\nconceptions have no existence apart from the particulars in which they\nreside. It has been questioned whether Aristotle ever really understood\nhis master\u2019s teaching on the subject. Among recent critics, M.\nBarth\u00e9lemy Saint-Hilaire asserts, with considerable vehemence, that he\ndid not. It is certain that in some respects Aristotle is not just to\nthe Platonic theory, that he exaggerates its absurdities, ignores its\ndevelopments, and occasionally brings charges against it which might be\nretorted with at least equal effect against his own philosophy. But on\nthe most important point of all, whether Plato did or did not ascribe\na separate existence to his Ideas, we could hardly believe a disciple\nof twenty years\u2019 standing[229] to be mistaken, even if the master had\nnot left on record a decisive testimony to the affirmative side in his\n_Parmenides_, and one scarcely less decisive in his _Timaeus_.[230]\nAnd so far as the controversy reduces itself to this particular issue,\nAristotle is entirely right. His most powerful arguments are not,\nindeed, original, having been anticipated by Plato himself; but as\nthey were left unanswered he had a perfect right to repeat them, and\nhis dialectical skill was great enough to make him independent of\ntheir support. The extreme minuteness of his criticism is wearisome to\nus, who can hardly conceive how another opinion could ever have been\nheld. Yet such was the fascination exercised by Plato\u2019s idealism, that\nnot only was it upheld with considerable acrimony by his immediate\nfollowers,[231] but under one form or another it has been revived\nover and over again, in the long period which has elapsed since its\nfirst promulgation, and on every one of these occasions the arguments\nof Aristotle have been raised up again to meet it, each time with\ntriumphant success. Ockham\u2019s razor, _Entia non sunt sine necessitate\nmultiplicanda_, is borrowed from the _Metaphysics_; Locke\u2019s principal\nobjection to innate ideas closely resembles the sarcastic observation\nin the last chapter of the _Posterior Analytics_, that, according to\nPlato\u2019s theory, we must have some very wonderful knowledge of which we\nare not conscious.[232] And the weapons with which Trendelenburg and\nothers have waged war on Hegel are avowedly drawn from the Aristotelian\narsenal.[233]\n\nIn his criticism on the ideal theory, Aristotle argues that it is\nunproved; that the consequences to which it leads would be rejected\nby the idealists themselves; that it involves a needless addition to\nthe sum of existence; that it neither explains the origin of things\nnor helps us to understand them, while taking away from them their\nsubstantial reality; that the Ideas are merely sensible objects\nhypostasised, like the anthropomorphic divinities of primitive men;\nthat, to speak of them as patterns, in whose likeness the world was\ncreated, is a mere idle metaphor; that, even assuming the existence of\nsuch patterns, each individual must be made in the likeness, not of\none, but of many ideas\u2014a human being, for instance, must be modelled\nafter the ideal biped and the ideal animal, as well as after the ideal\nman; while many of the ideas themselves, although all are supposed\nto exist absolutely, must be dependent on other and simpler types;\nfinally, that, assuming an idea for every abstract relation, there must\nbe ideas to represent the relation between every sensible object and\nits prototype, others for the new relations thus introduced, and so on\nto infinity.\n\nAristotle\u2019s objections to the Neo-Pythagorean theory of ideal numbers\nneed not delay us here. They are partly a repetition of those brought\nagainst the Platonic doctrine in its original form, partly derived\nfrom the impossibility of identifying qualitative with quantitative\ndifferences.[234]\n\nSuch arguments manifestly tell not only against Platonism, but against\nevery kind of transcendental realism, from the natural theology of\nPaley to the dogmatic agnosticism of Mr. Herbert Spencer. A modern\nAristotle might say that the hypothesis of a creative first cause,\npersonal or otherwise, logically involves the assumption of as many\noriginal specific energies as there are qualities to be accounted\nfor, and thus gives us the unnecessary trouble of counting everything\ntwice over; that every difficulty and contradiction from which the\ntranscendental assumption is intended to free us, must, on analysis,\nreappear in the assumption itself\u2014for example, the God who is to\ndeliver us from evil must be himself conceived as the creator of evil;\nthat the infinite and absolute can neither cause, nor be apprehended\nby, the finite and relative; that to separate from Nature all the\nforces required for its perpetuation, and relegate them to a sphere\napart, is a false antithesis and a sterile abstraction; lastly, that\ncausation, whether efficient or final, once begun, cannot stop; that if\nthis world is not self-existing, nothing is; that the mutual adaptation\nof thoughts in a designing intelligence requires to be accounted for\njust like any other adaptation; that if the relative involves the\nabsolute, so also does the relation between the two involve another\nabsolute, and so on to infinity.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThese are difficulties which will continue to perplex us until\nevery shred of the old metaphysics has been thrown off. To that\ntask Aristotle was not equal. He was profoundly influenced by the\nvery theory against which he contended; and, at the risk of being\nparadoxical, we may even say that it assumed a greater importance in\nhis system than had ever been attributed to it by Plato himself. To\nprove this, we must resume the thread of our exposition, and follow\nthe Stagirite still further in his analysis of the fundamental reality\nwith which the highest philosophy is concerned.\n\n\nII.\n\nEver since the age of Parmenides and Heracleitus, Greek thought had\nbeen haunted by a pervading dualism which each system had in turn\nattempted to reconcile, with no better result than its reproduction\nunder altered names. And speculation had latterly become still further\nperplexed by the question whether the antithetical couples supposed\nto divide all Nature between them could or could not be reduced to so\nmany aspects of a single opposition. In the last chapter but one we\nshowed that there were four such competing pairs\u2014Being and Not-Being,\nthe One and the Many, the Same and the Other, Rest and Motion. Plato\nemployed his very subtlest dialectic in tracing out their connexions,\nreadjusting their relationships, and diminishing the total number\nof terms which they involved. In what was probably his last great\nspeculative effort, the _Timaeus_, he seems to have selected Sameness\nand Difference as the couple best adapted to bear the heaviest strain\nof thought. There is some reason for believing that in his spoken\nlectures he followed the Pythagorean system more closely, giving the\npreference to the One and the Many; or he may have employed the two\nexpressions indifferently. The former would sooner commend itself to a\ndialectician, the latter to a mathematician. Aristotle was both, but he\nwas before all things a naturalist. As such, the antithesis of Being\nand Not-Being, to which Plato attached little or no value, suited him\nbest. Accordingly, he proceeds to work it out with a clearness before\nunknown in Greek philosophy. The first and surest of all principles,\nhe declares, is, that a thing cannot both be and not be, in the same\nsense of the words, and furthermore that it must either be or not be.\nSubsequent logicians prefixed to these axioms another, declaring that\nwhatever is is. The three together are known as the laws of Identity,\nContradiction, and Excluded Middle. By all, except Hegelians, they are\nrecognised as the highest laws of thought; and even Hegel was indebted\nto them, through Fichte, for the ground-plan of his entire system.[235]\n\nThe whole meaning and value of such excessively abstract propositions\nmust lie in their application to the problems which they are employed\nto solve. Aristotle made at once too much and too little of his. Too\nmuch\u2014for he employed them to refute doctrines not really involving\nany logical inconsistency\u2014the theory of Heracleitus, that everything\nis in motion; the theory of Anaxagoras, that everything was originally\nconfused together; the theory of Protagoras, that man is the measure of\nall things. Too little\u2014for he admitted a sphere of possibilities where\nlogical definition did not apply, and where subjects simultaneously\npossessed the capacity of taking on one or other of two contradictory\nattributes.\n\nNor is this all. After sharply distinguishing what is from what is\nnot, and refusing to admit any intermediary between them, Aristotle\nproceeds to discover such an intermediary in the shape of what he\ncalls Accidental Predication.[236] An accident is an attribute not\nnecessarily or usually inhering in its subject\u2014in other words,\na co-existence not dependent on causation. Aristotle could never\ndistinguish between the two notions of cause and kind, nor yet\nbetween interferences with the action of some particular cause and\nexceptions to the law of causation in general; and so he could not\nframe an intelligible theory of chance. Some propositions, he tells\nus, are necessarily true, others are only generally true; and it\nis the exceptions to the latter which constitute accident; as, for\ninstance, when a cold day happens to come in the middle of summer.\nSo also a man is necessarily an animal, but only exceptionally white.\nSuch distinctions are not uninteresting, for they prove with what\ndifficulties the idea of invariable sequence had to contend before even\nthe highest intellects could grasp it. There was a constant liability\nto confound the order of succession with the order of co-existence, the\norder of our sensations with the order of objective existence, and the\nsubjection of human actions to any fixed order, with the impossibility\nof deliberation and choice. The earlier Greek thinkers had proclaimed\nthat all things existed by necessity; but with their purely geometrical\nor historical point of view, they entirely ignored the more complex\nquestions raised by theories about classification, logical attribution,\nand moral responsibility. And the modifications introduced by Epicurus,\ninto the old physics, show us how unanswerable Aristotle\u2019s reasonings\nseemed to some of his ablest successors.\n\nAbsolute being is next distinguished from truth, which, we are told,\nhas no objective existence[237]\u2014a remarkable declaration, which throws\nmuch light on other parts of the Aristotelian system, and to which we\nshall subsequently return.[238]\n\nAfter explaining at considerable length what Being is not, Aristotle\nnow proceeds to ascertain what it is. He tells us that just as all\nnumber _qu\u00e2_ number must be either odd or even, so all Being _qu\u00e2_\nBeing must have certain universal attributes. These he sets himself to\ndiscover. When Descartes long afterwards entered on a somewhat similar\ninquiry, he fell back on the facts of his own individual consciousness.\nAristotle, on the contrary, appeals to the common consciousness of\nmankind as embodied in ordinary language. In how many senses do we\nsay that a thing is? The first answer is contained in his famous\nTen Categories.[239] These are not what some have supposed them to\nbe, _summa genera_ of existence, but _summa genera_ of predication.\nIn other words, they are not a classification of things, but of the\ninformation which it is possible to receive about a single thing, more\nespecially about the richest and most concrete thing known to us\u2014a\nhuman being. If we want to find out all about a thing we ask, What is\nit? Of what sort? How large? To what does it belong? Where and when\ncan we find it? What does it do? What happens to it? And if the object\nof our investigations be a living thing, we may add, What are its\nhabits and dispositions? The question has been raised, how Aristotle\ncame to think of these ten particular categories, and a wonderful\namount of rubbish has been written on the subject, while apparently no\nscholar could see what was staring him in the face all the time, that\nAristotle got them by collecting all the simple forms of interrogation\nsupplied by the Greek language,[240] and writing out their most general\nexpressions.\n\nHaving obtained his categories, Aristotle proceeds to mark off the\nfirst from the other nine. The subject or substance named in answer\nto the question, What is it? can exist without having any quality,\nsize, and so forth predicated of it; but they cannot exist without it.\nLogically, they cannot be defined without telling _what_ they are;\nreally they cannot be conceived without something not themselves in\nwhich they inhere. They are like the tail of a kite, giving greater\nconspicuousness and buoyancy to the body, but entirely dependent on\nit for support. What our philosopher fails to perceive is, that the\ndependence is reciprocal, that substance can no more be conceived\nwithout attributes than attributes without substance; or rather\nthat substance, like all other categories, can be resolved into\nRelation.[241]\n\nMeanwhile, he had a logical machine ready to hand, which could be used\nwith terrible effect against the Platonic Ideas. Any of these\u2014and\nthere were a great number\u2014that could be brought under one of the last\nnine categories were at once deprived of all claim to independent\nexistence. Take Equality, for instance. It cannot be discovered outside\nquantity, and quantity is always predicated of a substance. And the\nsame is true of number, to the utter destruction of the Neo-Pythagorean\ntheory which gave it a separate existence. Moreover, the categories\nserved not only to generalise and combine, but also to specificate\nand divide. The idea of motion occurs in three of them; in quantity,\nwhere it means increase or diminution; in quality, where it means\nalteration, as from hot to cold, or _vice vers\u00e2_; and in place,\nimplying transport from one point to another. The Idea of Good, which\nstands at the very summit of Plato\u2019s system, may be traced through all\nten categories.[242] Thus, the supposed unity and simplicity of such\nconceptions was shown to be an illusion. Platonism was, in truth, so\ninconsistent with the notions embodied in common language, that it\ncould not but be condemned by a logic based on those notions.\n\nAristotle next takes the Idea of Substance and subjects it to a\nfresh analysis.[243] Of all things none seem to possess so evident\nan existence as the bodies about us\u2014plants and animals, the four\nelements, and the stars. But each of these has already been shown\nto consist of Form and Matter. A statue, for instance, is a lump of\nbronze shaped into the figure of a man. Of these two constituents,\nMatter seems at first sight to possess the greater reality. The same\nline of thought which led Aristotle to place substance before the\nother categories now threatens to drive him back into materialism.\nThis he dreaded, not on sentimental or religious grounds, but because\nhe conceived it to be the negation of knowledge. He first shows that\nMatter cannot be the real substance to which individuals owe their\ndeterminate existence, since it is merely the unknown residuum left\nbehind when every predicate, common to them with others, has been\nstripped off. Substance, then, must be either Form alone or Form\ncombined with Matter. Form, in its completest sense, is equivalent\nto the essential definition of a thing\u2014the collection of attributes\ntogether constituting its essence or conception. To know the definition\nis to know the thing defined. The way to define is to begin with the\nmost general notion, and proceed by adding one specific difference\nafter another, until we reach the most particular and concrete\nexpression. The union of this last with a certain portion of Matter\ngives us the individual Socrates or Callias. There are no real\nentities (as the Platonists pretend) corresponding to the successive\nstages of generalisation, biped, animal, and so forth, any more than\nthere are self-existing quantities, qualities, and relations. Thus\nthe problem has been driven into narrower and narrower limits, until\nat last we are left with the _infim\u00e6 species_ and the individuals\ncontained under them. It remains to discover in what relation these\nstand to one another. The answer is unsatisfactory. We are told that\nthere is no definition of individuals, and also that the definition is\nidentical with the individual.[244] Such, indeed, is the conclusion\nnecessarily resulting from Aristotle\u2019s repeated declarations that\nall knowledge is of definitions, that all knowledge is of something\nreally existing, and that nothing really exists but individual things.\nNevertheless, against these we have to set equally strong declarations\nto the effect that knowledge is of something general, not of the\nperishing individuals which may pass out of existence at any moment.\nThe truth is, that we are here, as Zeller has shown,[245] in presence\nof an insoluble contradiction, and we must try to explain, not how\nAristotle reconciled it with itself, for that was impossible, but how\nhe reconciled himself to it.\n\nHis analysis of individuality was the first step in this direction.\nWe have seen that he treats definition as a process of gradual\nspecification, beginning with the most general notions, and working\ndown by successive differentiations to the most particular. Now,\nthe completed conception is itself the integration of all these\ndifferences, the bond of union holding them together. Turning to an\nantithetical order of ideas, to the material substance of which bodies\nare composed, and its various transformations, we find him working out\nthe same vein of thought. According to the Aristotelian chemistry,\nan ultimate indeterminate unknowable something clothes itself with\none or other of the opposing attributes, dry and moist, hot and cold;\nand when two of these are combined, manifests itself to our senses as\none of the four elements. The elements combine in a particular manner\nto form homogeneous animal tissues, and these again are united into\nheterogeneous organs, which together constitute the living body. Here,\nthen, we have two analogous series of specifications\u2014one conceptual\nand leading down from the abstract to the concrete, the other physical,\nand leading up from the vague, the simple, and the homogeneous, to the\ndefinite, the complex, and the heterogeneous. Aristotle embraces both\nprocesses under a single comprehensive generalisation. He describes\neach of them as the continuous conversion of a possibility into an\nactuality. For the sake of greater clearness, let us take the liberty\nof substituting modern scientific terms for his cumbrous and obsolete\nclassifications. We shall then say that the general notion, living\nthing, contains under it the two less general notions\u2014plant and\nanimal. If we only know of any given object that it has life, there\nis implied the possibility of its being either the one or the other,\nbut not both together. On determining it to be (say) an animal, we\nactualise one of the possibilities. But the actualisation is only\nrelative, and immediately becomes the possibility of being either\na vertebrate or an invertebrate animal. The actuality vertebrate\nbecomes the possibility of viviparous or oviparous, and so on through\nsuccessive differentiations until we come (say) to a man. Now let us\nbegin at the material end. Here are a mass of molecules, which, in\ntheir actual state are only carbon, nitrogen, and so forth. But they\nare potential starch, gluten, water, or any other article of food that\nmight be named; for under favourable conditions they will combine to\nform it. Once actualised as such, they are possible blood-cells; these\nare possible tissues; these, again, possible organs, and lastly we\ncome to the consensus of vital functions, which is a man. What the raw\nmaterial is to the finished product, that are the parts to the entire\norganism, the elements to the compound, the genus to the species, and\nsuch in its very widest sense is potency to realisation, \u03b4\u03cd\u03bd\u03b1\u03bc\u03b9\u03c2 to\n\u1f10\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1, throughout the universe of growth and decay.[246]\n\nIt will be observed that, so far, this famous theory does not add one\nsingle jot to our knowledge. Under the guise of an explanation, it is a\ndescription of the very facts needing to be explained. We did not want\nan Aristotle to tell us that before a thing exists it must be possible.\nWe want to know how it is possible, what are the real conditions of its\nexistence, and why they combine at a particular moment to produce it.\nThe Atomists showed in what direction the solution should be sought,\nand all subsequent progress has been due to a development of their\nmethod. Future ages will perhaps consider our own continued distinction\nbetween force and motion as a survival of the Peripatetic philosophy.\nJust as sensible aggregates of matter arise not out of potential\nmatter, but out of matter in an extremely fine state of diffusion, so\nalso sensible motion will be universally traced back, not to potential\nmotion, which is all that force means, but to molecular or ethereal\nvibrations, like those known to constitute heat and light.\n\nWe have said, in comparing him with his predecessors, that the\nStagirite unrolled Greek thought from a solid into a continuous\nsurface. We have now to add that he gave his surface the false\nappearance of a solid by the use of shadows, and of a\u00ebrial perspective.\nIn other words, he made the indication of his own ignorance and\nconfusion do duty for depth and distance. For to say that a thing is\ndeveloped out of its possibility, merely means that it is developed out\nof something, the nature of which we do not know. And to speak about\nsuch possibilities as imperfect existences, or matter, or whatever\nelse Aristotle may be pleased to call them, is simply constructing the\nuniverse, not out of our ideas, but out of our absolute want of ideas.\n\nWe have seen how, for the antithesis between Form and Matter, was\nsubstituted the wider antithesis between Actuality and Possibility.\nEven in this latter the opposition is more apparent than real. A\npermanent possibility is only intelligible through the idea of its\nrealisation, and sooner or later is certain to be realised. Aristotle\nstill further bridges over the interval between them by a new\nconception\u2014that of motion. Motion, he tells us, is the process of\nrealisation, the transformation of power into act. Nearly the whole\nof his _Physics_ is occupied with an enquiry into its nature and\norigin. As first conceived, it is equivalent to what we call change\nrather than to mechanical movement. The table of categories supplies\nan exhaustive enumeration of its varieties. These are, as we have\nalready mentioned, alteration of quality or transformation, increase\nor decrease of quantity, equivalent to growth and decay, and transport\nfrom place to place. Sometimes a fourth variety is added, derived from\nthe first category, substance. He calls it generation and destruction,\nthe coming into existence or passing out of it again. A careful\nanalysis shows that motion in space is the primordial change on which\nall others depend for their accomplishment. To account for it is the\nmost vitally important problem in philosophy.\n\n\nIII.\n\nBefore entering on the chain of reasoning which led Aristotle to\npostulate the existence of a personal First Cause, we must explain the\ndifference between his scientific standpoint, and that which is now\naccepted by all educated minds. To him the eternity not only of Matter,\nbut also of what he called Form,\u2014that is to say, the collection of\nattributes giving definiteness to natural aggregates, more especially\nthose known as organic species\u2014was an axiomatic certainty. Every type,\ncapable of self-propagation, that could exist at all, had existed, and\nwould continue to exist for ever. For this, no explanation beyond the\ngenerative power of Nature was required. But when he had to account for\nthe machinery by which the perpetual alternation of birth and death\nbelow, and the changeless revolutions of the celestial spheres above\nthe moon were preserved, difficulties arose. He had reduced every\nother change to transport through space; and with regard to this his\nconceptions were entirely mistaken. He believed that moving matter\ntended to stop unless it was sustained by some external force; and\nwhatever their advantages over him in other respects, we cannot say\nthat the Atomists were in a position to correct him here: for their\ntheory, that every particle of matter gravitated downward through\ninfinite space, was quite incompatible with the latest astronomical\ndiscoveries. Aristotle triumphantly showed that the tendency of heavy\nbodies was not to move indefinitely downwards in parallel lines, but\nto move in converging lines to the centre of the earth, which he, in\ncommon with most Greek astronomers, supposed to be also the centre of\nthe universe; and seeing light bodies move up, he credited them with\nan equal and opposite tendency to the circumference of the universe,\nwhich, like Parmenides and Plato, he believed to be of finite extent.\nThus each kind of matter has its appropriate place, motion to which\nends in rest, while motion away from it, being constrained, cannot\nlast. Accordingly, the constant periodicity of terrestrial phenomena\nnecessitates as constant a transformation of dry and wet, and of hot\nand cold bodies into one another. This is explained with perfect\naccuracy by the diurnal and annual revolutions of the sun. Here,\nhowever, we are introduced to a new kind of motion, which, instead of\nbeing rectilinear and finite, is circular and eternal. To account for\nit, Aristotle assumes a fifth element entirely different in character\nfrom the four terrestrial elements. Unlike them, it is absolutely\nsimple, and has a correspondingly simple mode of motion, which, as\nour philosopher erroneously supposes, can be no other than circular\nrotation.\n\nOut of this eternal unchanging divine substance, which he calls aether,\nare formed the heavenly bodies and the transparent spheres containing\nthem. But there is something beyond it of an even higher and purer\nnature. Aristotle proves, with great subtlety, from his fundamental\nassumptions, that the movement of an extended substance cannot be\nself-caused. He also proves that motion must be absolutely continuous\nand without a beginning. We have, therefore, no choice but to accept\nthe existence of an unextended, immaterial, eternal, and infinite Power\non which the whole cosmos depends.\n\nSo much only is established in the _Physics_. Further particulars\nare given in the twelfth book of the _Metaphysics_. There we learn\nthat, all movement being from possibility to actuality, the source of\nmovement must be a completely realised actuality\u2014pure form without any\nadmixture of matter. But the highest form known to us in the ascending\nscale of organic life is the human soul, and the highest function of\nsoul is reason. Reason then must be that which moves without being\nmoved itself, drawing all things upwards and onwards by the love which\nits perfection inspires. The eternal, infinite, absolute actuality\nexisting beyond the outermost starry sphere is God. Aristotle describes\nGod as the thought which thinks itself and finds in the simple act of\nself-consciousness an everlasting happiness, wonderful if it always\nequals the best moments of our mortal life, more wonderful still if it\nsurpasses them. There is only one supreme God, for plurality is due to\nan admixture of matter, and He is pure form. The rule of many is not\ngood, as Homer says. Let there be one Lord.\n\nSuch are the closing words of what was possibly Aristotle\u2019s last\nwork, the clear confession of his monotheistic creed. A monotheistic\ncreed, we have said, but one so unlike all other religions, that its\nnature has been continually misunderstood. While some have found in\nit a theology like that of the Jews or of Plato or of modern Europe,\nothers have resolved it into a vague pantheism. Among the latter we\nare surprised to find Sir A. Grant, a writer to whom the Aristotelian\ntexts must be perfectly familiar both in spirit and in letter. Yet\nnothing can possibly be more clear and emphatic than the declarations\nthey contain. Pantheism identifies God with the world; Aristotle\nseparates them as pure form from form more or less alloyed with matter.\nPantheism denies personality to God; Aristotle gives him unity,\nspirituality, self-consciousness, and happiness. If these qualities do\nnot collectively involve personality, we should like to know what does.\nNeed we remind the accomplished editor of the _Nicomachean Ethics_ how\ngreat a place is given in that work to human self-consciousness, to\nwaking active thought as distinguished from mere slumbering faculties\nor unrealised possibilities of action? And what Aristotle regarded as\nessential to human perfection, he would regard as still more essential\nto divine perfection. Finally, the God of pantheism is a general idea;\nthe God of Aristotle is an individual. Sir A. Grant says that he (or\nit) is the idea of Good.[247] We doubt very much whether there is a\nsingle passage in the _Metaphysics_ to sanction such an expression.\nDid it occur, however, that would be no warrant for approximating\nthe Aristotelian to the Platonic theology, in presence of such a\ndistinct declaration as that the First Mover is both conceptually\nand numerically one,[248] coming after repeated repudiations of the\nPlatonic attempt to isolate ideas from the particulars in which they\nare immersed. Then Sir A. Grant goes on to speak of the desire felt\nby Nature for God as being itself God,[249] and therefore involving a\nbelief in pantheism. Such a notion is not generally called pantheism,\nbut hylozoism, the attribution of life to matter. We have no desire,\nhowever, to quarrel about words. The philosopher who believes in\nthe existence of a vague consciousness, a spiritual effort towards\nsomething higher diffused through nature, may, if you will, be called a\npantheist, but not unless this be the only divinity he recognises. The\nterm is altogether misleading when applied to one who also proclaims\nthe existence of something in his opinion far higher, better and more\nreal\u2014a living God, who transcends Nature, and is independent of her,\nalthough she is not independent of him.\n\nWe must also observe that the parallel drawn by Sir A. Grant between\nthe theology of Aristotle and that of John Stuart Mill is singularly\nunfortunate. It is in the first place incorrect to say that Mill\nrepresented God as benevolent but not omnipotent. He only suggested\nthe idea as less inconsistent with facts than other forms of\ntheism.[250] In the next place, Aristotle\u2019s God was almost exactly\nthe reverse of this. He possesses infinite power, but no benevolence\nat all. He has nothing to do with the internal arrangements of the\nworld, either as creator or as providence. He is, in fact, an egoist\nof the most transcendent kind, who does nothing but think about\nhimself and his own perfections. Nothing could be more characteristic\nof the unpractical Aristotelian philosophy; nothing more repugnant to\nthe eager English reformer, the pupil of Bentham and of Plato. And,\nthirdly, Sir A. Grant takes what is not the God of Aristotle\u2019s system\nat all, but a mere abstraction, the immanent reason of Nature, the\nForm which can never quite conquer Matter, and places it on the same\nline with a God who, however hypothetical, is nothing if not a person\ndistinct from the world; while, as if to bewilder the unfortunate\n\u2018English reader\u2019 still further, he adds, in the very next sentence,\nthat \u2018the great defect in Aristotle\u2019s conception of God is\u2019 the denial\n\u2018that God can be a moral Being.\u2019[251]\n\nThe words last quoted, which in a Christian sense are true enough,\nlead us over to the contrasting view of Aristotle\u2019s theology, to the\nfalse theory of it held by critics like Prof. St. George Mivart. The\nStagirite agrees with Catholic theism in accepting a personal God,\nand he agrees with the First Article of the English Church, though\nnot with the Pentateuch, in saying that God is without parts or\npassions; but there his agreement ceases. Excluding such a thing as\ndivine interference with nature, his theology of course excludes the\npossibility of revelation, inspiration, miracles, and grace. Nor is\nthis a mere omission; it is a necessity of the system. If there can be\nno existence without time, no time without motion, no motion without\nunrealised desire, no desire without an ideal, no ideal but eternally\nself-thinking thought\u2014then it logically follows that God, in the\nsense of such a thought, must not interest himself in the affairs of\nmen. Again, Aristotelianism equally excludes the arguments by which\nmodern theologians have sought to prove the existence of God. Here\nalso the system is true to its contemporaneous, statical, superficial\ncharacter. The First Mover is not separated from us by a chain of\ncauses extending through past ages, but by an intervening breadth of\nspace and the wheels within wheels of a cosmic machine. Aristotle\nhad no difficulty in conceiving what some have since declared to be\ninconceivable, a series of antecedents without any beginning in time;\nit was rather the beginning of such a series that he could not make\nintelligible to himself. Nor, as we have seen, did he think that the\nadaptation in living organisms of each part to every other required an\nexternal explanation. Far less did it occur to him that the production\nof impressions on our senses was due to the agency of a supernatural\npower. It is absolutely certain that he would have rejected the\nCartesian argument, according to which a perfect being must exist\nif it be only conceivable\u2014existence being necessarily involved in\nthe idea of perfection.[252] Finally, not recognising such a faculty\nas conscience, he would not have admitted it to be the voice of God\nspeaking in the soul.\n\nOn the other hand, Aristotle\u2019s own theistic arguments cannot stand for\na moment in the face of modern science. We know by the law of inertia\nthat it is not the continuance, but the arrest or the beginning of\nmotion which requires to be accounted for. We know by the Copernican\nsystem that there is no solid sidereal sphere governing the revolutions\nof all Nature. And we know by the Newtonian physics that gravitation\nis not dependent on fixed points in space for its operation. _The_\nPhilosophy of _the_ Philosopher Aristotle is as inconsistent with the\ndemonstrations of modern astronomy as it is with the faith of mediaeval\nCatholicism.\n\nIt remains to be seen whether the system which we are examining is\nconsistent with itself. It is not. The Prime Mover, being unextended,\ncannot be located outside the sidereal sphere; nor can he be brought\ninto immediate contact with it more than with any other part of the\ncosmos. If the aether has a motion proper to itself, then no spiritual\nagency is required to keep it in perpetual rotation. If the crystalline\nspheres fit accurately together, as they must, to avoid leaving a\nvacuum anywhere, there can be no friction, no production of heat, and\nconsequently no effect produced on the sublunary sphere. Finally, no\nrotatory or other movement can, taken alone, have any conceivable\nconnexion with the realisation of a possibility, in the sense of\nprogress from a lower to a higher state of being. It is merely the\nperpetual exchange of one indifferent position for another.\n\nWe have now to consider what were the speculative motives that led\nAristotle to overlook these contradictions, and to find rest in a\ntheory even less satisfactory than the earlier systems which he is\nalways attacking with relentless animosity. The first motive, we\nbelieve, was the train of reasoning, already laid before the reader,\nby which universal essences, the objects of knowledge, gradually came\nto be identified with particular objects, the sole existing realities.\nFor the arguments against such an identification, as put forward by\nour philosopher himself, still remained unanswered. The individuals\ncomprising a species were still too transient for certainty and too\nnumerous for comprehension. But when for the antithesis between Form\nand Matter was substituted the antithesis between Actuality and\nPossibility, two modes of evasion presented themselves. The first was\nto distinguish between actual knowledge and potential knowledge. The\nformer corresponded to existing particulars, the latter to general\nideas.[253] This, however, besides breaking up the unity of knowledge,\nwas inconsistent with the whole tenor of Aristotle\u2019s previous\nteaching. What can be more actual than demonstration, and how can\nthere be any demonstration of transient particulars? The other mode of\nreconciliation was perhaps suggested by the need of an external cause\nto raise Possibility into Actuality. Such a cause might be conceived\nwith all the advantages and without the drawbacks of a Platonic Idea.\nIt would be at once the moving agent and the model of perfection; it\ncould reconcile the general and the particular by the simple fact of\nbeing eternal in time, comprehensive in space, and unique in kind.\nAristotle found such a cause, or rather a whole series of such causes,\nin the celestial spheres. In his system, these bear just the same\nrelation to terrestrial phenomena that Plato\u2019s Ideas bear to the world\nof sense. They are, in fact, the Ideas made sensible and superficial,\nplaced alongside of, instead of beneath or behind, the transient\nparticulars which they irradiate and sustain.\n\nThe analogy may be carried even farther. If Plato regarded the things\nof sense as not merely a veil, but an imperfect imitation of the only\ntrue realities; so also did Aristotle represent the sublunary elements\nas copying the disposition and activities of the ethereal spheres.\nThey too have their concentric arrangements\u2014first fire, then air,\nthen water, and lastly earth in the centre; while their perpetual\ntransformation into one another presents an image in time of the\nspatial rotation which those sublime beings perform. And although we\nthink that Sir A. Grant is quite mistaken in identifying Aristotle\u2019s\nSupreme Mind with the Idea of Good, there can be no doubt of its having\nbeen suggested by that Idea. It is, in fact, the translation of Plato\u2019s\nabstraction into concrete reality, and the completion of a process\nwhich Plato had himself begun. From another point of view we may say\nthat both master and disciple were working, each in his own way, at\nthe solution of a problem which entirely dominates Greek philosophy\nfrom Empedocles on\u2014the reconciliation of Parmenides and Heracleitus,\nBeing and Becoming, the eternal and the changeful, the one and the\nmany. Aristotle adopts the superficial, external method of placing the\ntwo principles side by side in space; and for a long time the world\naccepted his solution for the same reason that had commended it to his\nown acceptance, its apparent agreement with popular tradition and with\nthe facts of experience. It must be confessed, however, that here also\nhe was following the lines laid down by Plato. The _Timaeus_ and the\n_Laws_ are marked by a similar tendency to substitute astronomy for\ndialectics, to study the celestial movements with religious veneration,\nto rebuild on a scientific basis that ancient star-worship which,\neven among the Greeks, enjoyed a much higher authority and prestige\nthan the humanised mythology of the poets. But for Christianity this\nstar-worship would probably have become the official faith of the\nRoman world. As it is, Dante\u2019s great poem presents us with a singular\ncompromise between the two creeds. The crystalline spheres are\nretained, only they have become the abode of glorified spirits instead\nof being the embodiment of eternal gods. We often hear it said that the\nCopernican system was rejected as offensive to human pride, because it\nremoved the earth from the centre of the universe. This is a profound\nmistake. Its offence was to degrade the heavenly bodies by assimilating\nthem to the earth.[254] Among several planets, all revolving round\nthe sun, there could not be any marked qualitative difference. In\nthe theological sense there was no longer any heaven; and with the\ndisappearance of the solid sidereal sphere there was no longer any\nnecessity for a Prime Mover.\n\nThere is, perhaps, no passage in Aristotle\u2019s writings\u2014there is\ncertainly none in his scientific writings\u2014more eloquent than that\nwhich describes the glory of his imaginary heavens. The following\ntranslation may give some faint idea of its solemnity and splendour:\u2014\n\n We believe, then, that the whole heaven is one and everlasting,\n without beginning or end through all eternity, but holding infinite\n time within its orb; not, as some say, created or capable of being\n destroyed. We believe it on account of the grounds already stated,\n and also on account of the consequences resulting from a different\n hypothesis. For, it must add great weight to our assurance of its\n immortality and everlasting duration that this opinion may, while the\n contrary opinion cannot possibly, be true. Wherefore, we may trust\n the traditions of old time, and especially of our own race, when\n they tell us that there is something deathless and divine about the\n things which, although moving, have a movement that is not bounded,\n but is itself the universal bound, a perfect circle enclosing in its\n revolutions the imperfect motions that are subject to restraint and\n arrest; while this, being without beginning or end or rest through\n infinite time, is the one from which all others originate, and into\n which they disappear. That heaven which antiquity assigned to the\n gods as an immortal abode, is shown by the present argument to be\n uncreated and indestructible, exempt alike from mortal weakness and\n from the weariness of subjection to a force acting in opposition\n to its natural inclination; for in proportion to its everlasting\n continuance such a compulsion would be laborious, and unparticipant in\n the highest perfection of design. We must not, then, believe with the\n old mythologists that an Atlas is needed to uphold it; for they, like\n some in more recent times, fancied that the heavens were made of heavy\n earthy matter, and so fabled an animated necessity for their support;\n nor yet that, as Empedocles says, they will last only so long as\n their own proper momentum is exceeded by the whirling motion of which\n they partake.[255] Nor, again, is it likely that their everlasting\n revolution can be kept up by the exercise of a conscious will; for\n no soul could lead a happy and blessed existence that was engaged in\n such a task, necessitating, as it would, an unceasing struggle with\n their native tendency to move in a different direction, without even\n the mental relaxation and bodily rest which mortals gain by sleep, but\n doomed to the eternal torment of an Ixion\u2019s wheel. Our explanation,\n on the other hand, is, as we say, not only more consistent with the\n eternity of the heavens, but also can alone be reconciled with the\n acknowledged vaticinations of religious faith.[256]\n\nIt will be seen from the foregoing passage how strong a hold the old\nGreek notion of an encircling limit had on the mind of Aristotle, and\nhow he transformed it back from the high intellectual significance\ngiven to it by Plato into its original sense of a mere space-enclosing\nfigure. And it will also be seen how he credits his spheres with a full\nmeasure of that moving power which, according to his rather unfair\ncriticism, the Platonic Ideas did not possess. His astronomy also\nsupplied him with that series of graduated transitions between two\nextremes in which Greek thought so much delighted. The heavenly bodies\nmediate between God and the earth; partly active and partly passive,\nthey both receive and communicate the moving creative impulse. The four\nterrestrial elements are moved in the various categories of substance,\nquantity, quality, and place; the aether moves in place only. God\nremains \u2018without variableness or shadow of a change.\u2019 Finally, by its\nabsolute simplicity and purity, the aether mediates between the coarse\nmatter perceived by our senses and the absolutely immaterial Nous, and\nis itself supposed to be pervaded by a similar gradation of fineness\nfrom top to bottom. Furthermore, the upper fire, which must not be\nconfounded with flame, furnishes a connecting link between the aether\nand the other elements, being related to them as Form to Matter, or\nas agent to patient; and, when the elements are decomposed into their\nconstituent qualities, hot and cold occupy a similar position with\nregard to wet and dry.\n\n\nIV.\n\nIn mastering Aristotle\u2019s cosmology, we have gained the key to his\nentire method of systematisation. Henceforth, the Stagirite has no\nsecrets from us. Where we were formerly content to show that he\nerred, we can now show why he erred; by generalising his principles\nof arrangement, we can exhibit them still more clearly in their\nconflict with modern thought. The method, then, pursued by Aristotle\nis to divide his subject into two more or less unequal masses, one of\nwhich is supposed to be governed by necessary principles, admitting\nof certain demonstration; while the other is irregular, and can only\nbe studied according to the rules of probable evidence. The parts of\nthe one are homogeneous and concentrically disposed, the movements of\neach being controlled by that immediately outside and above it. The\nparts of the other are heterogeneous and distributed among a number\nof antithetical pairs, between whose members there is, or ought to\nbe, a general equilibrium preserved, the whole system having a common\ncentre which either oscillates from one extreme to another, or holds\nthe balance between them. The second system is enclosed within the\nfirst, and is altogether dependent on it for the impulses determining\nits processes of metamorphosis and equilibration. Where the internal\nadjustments of a system to itself or of one system to the other are not\nconsciously made, Aristotle calls them Nature. They are always adapted\nto secure its everlasting continuance either in an individual or a\nspecific form. Actuality belongs more particularly to the first sphere,\nand possibility to the second, but both are, to a certain extent,\nrepresented in each.\n\nWe have already seen how this fundamental division is applied to\nthe universe as a whole. But our philosopher is not content with\nclassifying the phenomena as he finds them; he attempts to demonstrate\nthe necessity of their dual existence; and in so doing is guilty of\nsomething very like a vicious circle. For, after proving from the\nterrestrial movements that there must be an eternal movement to keep\nthem going, he now assumes the revolving aether, and argues that there\nmust be a motionless solid centre for it to revolve round, although a\ngeometrical axis would have served the purpose equally well. By a still\nmore palpable fallacy, he proceeds to show that a body whose tendency\nis towards the centre, must, in the nature of things, be opposed by\nanother body whose tendency is towards the circumference. In order\nto fill up the interval created by this opposition, two intermediate\nbodies are required, and thus we get the four elements\u2014earth, water,\nair, and fire. These, again, are resolved into the antithetical\ncouples, dry and wet, hot and cold, the possible combinations of which,\nby twos, give us the four elements once more. Earth is dry and cold,\nwater cold and wet, air wet and hot, fire hot and dry; each adjacent\npair having a quality in common, and each element being characterized\nby the excess of a particular quality; earth is especially dry, water\ncold, air wet, and fire hot. The common centre of each antithesis is\nwhat Aristotle calls the First Matter, the mere abstract unformed\npossibility of existence. This matter always combines two qualities,\nand has the power of oscillating from one quality to another, but it\ncannot, as a rule, simultaneously exchange both for their opposites.\nEarth may pass into water, exchanging dry for wet, but not so readily\ninto air, which would necessitate a double exchange at the same moment.\n\nThose who will may see in all this an anticipation of chemical\nsubstitution and double decomposition. We can assure them that it will\nbe by no means the most absurd parallel discovered between ancient and\nmodern ideas. It is possible, however, to trace a more real connexion\nbetween the Aristotelian physics and mediaeval thought. We do not\nof course mean the scholastic philosophy, for there never was the\nslightest doubt as to its derivation; we allude to the alchemy and\nastrology which did duty for positive science during so many centuries,\nand even overlapped it down to the time of Newton, himself an ardent\nalchemist. The superstitions of astrology originated independently\nof the peripatetic system, and probably long before it, but they\nwere likely to be encouraged by it instead of being repressed, as\nthey would have been by a less anthropomorphic philosophy. Aristotle\nhimself, as we have seen, limited the action of the heavens on the\nsublunary sphere to their heating power; but, by crediting them with\nan immortal reason and the pursuit of ends unknown to us, he opened\na wide field for conjecture as to what those ends were, and how they\ncould be ascertained. That the stars and planets were always thinking\nand acting, but never about our affairs, was not a notion likely to\nbe permanently accepted. Neither was it easy to believe that their\nvarious configurations, movements, and names (the last probably\nrevealed by themselves) were entirely without significance. From such\nconsiderations to the casting of horoscopes is not a far remove. The\nAristotelian chemistry would still more readily lend itself to the\npurposes of alchemy. If Nature is one vast process of transmutation,\nthen particular bodies, such as the metals, not only may, but must be\nconvertible into one another. And even those who rejected Aristotle\u2019s\nlogic with scorn still clung to his natural philosophy when it\nflattered their hopes of gain. Bacon kept the theory of substantial\nforms. His originality consisted in looking for a method by which\nany form, or assemblage of forms might be superinduced at pleasure\non the underlying matter. The real development of knowledge pursued\na far different course. The great discoverers of the sixteenth and\nseventeenth centuries achieved their success by absolutely reversing\nthe method of Aristotle, by bringing into fruitful contact principles\nwhich he had condemned to barren isolation. They carried terrestrial\nphysics into the heavens; they brought down the absoluteness and\neternity of celestial law to earth; they showed that Aristotle\u2019s\nantithetical qualities were merely quantitative distinctions. These\nthey resolved into modes of motion; and they also resolved all motions\ninto one, which was both rectilinear and perpetual. But they and their\nsuccessors put an end to all dreams of transmutation, when they showed\nby another synthesis that all matter, at least within the limits of our\nexperience, has the changeless consistency once attributed exclusively\nto the stellar spheres.\n\nWhen Aristotle passes from the whole cosmos to the philosophy of life,\nhis method of systematic division is less distinctly illustrated, but\nstill it may be traced. The fundamental separation is between body\nand soul. The latter has a wider meaning than what we associate with\nit at present. It covers the psychic functions and the whole life of\nthe organism, which, again, is not what we mean by life. For life\nwith us is both individual and collective; it resides in each speck\nof protoplasm, and also in the consensus of the whole organism. With\nAristotle it is more exclusively a central principle, the final cause\nof the organism, the power which holds it together, and by which it\nwas originally shaped. Biology begins by determining the idea of the\nwhole, and then considers the means by which it is realised. The\npsychic functions are arranged according to a system of teleological\nsubordination. The lower precedes the higher in time, but is logically\nnecessitated by it. Thus nutrition, or the vegetative life in general,\nmust be studied in close connexion with sensation and impulse, or\nanimal life; and this, again, with thought or pure reasoning. On\nthe other hand, anatomy and physiology are considered from a purely\nchemical and mechanical point of view. A vital purpose is, indeed,\nassigned to every organ, but with no more reference to its specifically\nvital properties than if it formed part of a steam engine. Here, as\nalways with Aristotle, the idea of moderation determines the point of\nview whence the inferior or material system is to be studied. Organic\ntissue is made up of the four elemental principles\u2014hot, cold, wet, and\ndry\u2014mixed together in proper proportions; and the object of organic\nfunction is to maintain them in due equilibrium, an end effected by\nthe regulating power of the soul, which, accordingly, has its seat in\nthe heart or centre of the body. It has been already shown how, in\nendeavouring to work out this chimerical theory, Aristotle went much\nfurther astray from the truth than sundry other Greek physiologists\nless biassed by the requirements of a symmetrical method.\n\nAfter the formal and material elements of life have been separately\ndiscussed, there comes an account of the process by which they\nare first brought into connexion, for this is how Aristotle views\ngeneration. With him it is the information of matter by psychic\nforce; and his notions about the part which each parent plays in\nthe production of a new being are vitiated throughout by this\nmistaken assumption. Nevertheless his treatise on the subject is,\nfor its time, one of the most wonderful works ever written, and,\nas we are told on good authority,[257] is now less antiquated than\nthe corresponding researches of Harvey. The philosopher\u2019s peculiar\ngenius for observation, analysis, and comparison will partly account\nfor his success; but, if we mistake not, there is another and less\nobvious reason. Here the fatal separation of form and matter was,\nexcept at first starting, precluded by the very idea of generation;\nand the teleological principle of spontaneous efforts to realise a\npredetermined end was, as it happened, perfectly in accordance with the\nfacts themselves.\n\nAnd now, looking back on his cosmology, we can see that Aristotle\nwas never so near the truth as when he tried to bridge over the gulf\nbetween his two spheres, the one corruptible and the other eternal, by\nthe idea of motion considered as a specific property of all matter,\nand persisting through all time; as a link between the celestial\nrevolutions and the changes occurring on or near the earth\u2019s surface;\nand, finally, as the direct cause of heat, the great agent acting in\nopposition to gravity\u2014which last view may have suggested Bacon\u2019s\ncapital discovery, that heat is itself a mode of motion.\n\nAnother method by which Aristotle strove to overcome the antithesis\nbetween life as a mechanical arrangement and life as a metaphysical\nconception, was the newly created study of comparative anatomy. The\nvariations in structure and function which accompany variations in the\nenvironment, though statically and not dynamically conceived, bring us\nvery near to the truth that biological phenomena are subject to the\nsame general laws of causation as all other phenomena; and it is this\ntruth which, in the science of life, corresponds to the identification\nof terrestrial with celestial physics in the science of general\nmechanics. Vitality is not an individualised principle stationed in\nthe heart and serving only to balance opposite forces against one\nanother; but it is diffused through all the tissues, and bestows on\nthem that extraordinary plasticity which responds to the actions of the\nenvironment by spontaneous variations capable of being summed up in\nany direction, and so creating entirely new organic forms without the\nintervention of any supernatural agency.\n\n\nV.\n\nWe have now to consider how Aristotle treats psychology, not in\nconnexion with biology, but as a distinct science\u2014a separation not\nquite consistent with his own definition of soul, but forced on him\nby the traditions of Greek philosophy and by the nature of things.\nHere the fundamental antithesis assumes a three-fold form. First the\ntheoretical activity of mind is distinguished from its practical\nactivity; the one being exercised on things which cannot, the other on\nthings which can, be changed. Again, a similar distinction prevails\nwithin the special province of each. Where truth is the object,\nknowledge stands opposed to sense; where good is sought, reason rises\nsuperior to passion. The one antithesis had been introduced into\nphilosophy by the early physicists, the other by Socrates. They were\nconfounded in the psychology of Plato, and Aristotle had the merit of\nseparating them once more. Yet even he preserves a certain artificial\nparallelism between them by using the common name Nous, or reason, to\ndenote the controlling member in each. To make his anthropology still\nmore complex, there is a third antithesis to be taken into account,\nthat between the individual and the community, which also sometimes\nslides into a partial coincidence with the other two.\n\nAristotle\u2019s treatise on the soul is mainly devoted to a description of\nthe theoretical faculties\u2014sense, and thought or reason. By sense we\nbecome acquainted with the material qualities of things; by thought\nwith their forms or ideas. It has been already mentioned that,\naccording to our philosopher, the organism is a system of contrary\nforces held in equilibrium by the soul, whose seat he supposes to be\nin the heart. We now learn that every sensation is a disturbance of\nthis equilibrium. In other words, the sensorium being virtually any\nand every mode of matter, is raised from possibility to actuality by\nthe presence of some one force, such as heat or cold, in sufficient\nstrength to incline the balance that way. Here we have, quite in\nAristotle\u2019s usual style, a description instead of an explanation. The\natomic notion of thin films thrown off from the object of sense, and\nfalling on the organs of sight or touch, was but a crude guess; still\nit has more affinity with the discoveries of a Young or a Helmholtz\nthan scholastic phrases about potentiality and actuality. That\nsensation implies a disturbance of equilibrium is, indeed, an important\ntruth; only, the equilibrium must be conceived as a balance, not of\npossible sensations, but of molecular states; that is to say, it must\nbe interpreted according to the atomic theory.\n\nAristotle is more successful when he proceeds to discuss the\nimagination. He explains it to be a continuance of the movement\noriginally communicated by the felt object to the organ of sense, kept\nup in the absence of the object itself;\u2014as near an approach to the\ntruth as could be made in his time. And he is also right in saying\nthat the operations of reason are only made possible by the help of\nwhat he calls phantasms\u2014that is, faint reproductions of sensations.\nIn addition to this, he points out the connexion between memory and\nimagination, and enumerates the laws of association briefly, but with\ngreat accuracy. He is, however, altogether unaware of their scope. So\nfar from using them to explain all the mental processes, he does not\neven see that they account for involuntary reminiscence, and limits\nthem to the voluntary operation by which we recall a missing name or\nother image to consciousness.\n\nSo far, Aristotle regards the soul as a function, or energy, or\nperfection of the body, from which it can no more be separated than\nvision from the eye. It is otherwise with the part of mind which\nhe calls Nous, or Reason\u2014the faculty which takes cognisance of\nabstract ideas or the pure forms of things. This corresponds, in the\nmicrocosm, to the eternal Nous of the macrocosm, and, like it, is\nabsolutely immaterial, not depending for its activity on the exercise\nof any bodily organ. There is, however, a general analogy between\nsensation and thought considered as processes of cognition. Previous\nto experience, the Nous is no thought in particular, but merely a\npossibility of thinking, like a smooth wax tablet waiting to be written\non. It is determined to some particular idea by contact with the\nobjective forms of things, and in this determination is raised from\npower to actuality. The law of moderation, however, does not apply to\nthought. Excessive stimulation is first injurious and then destructive\nto the organs of sense, but we cannot have too much of an idea; the\nmore intense it is the better are we able to conceive all the ideas\nthat come under it, just because ideation is an incorporeal process.\nAnd there seems to be this further distinction between sensation and\nthought, that the latter is much more completely identified with its\nobject than the former; it is in the very act of imprinting themselves\non the Nous that the forms of things become perfectly detached from\nmatter, and so attain their final realisation. It is only in our\nconsciousness that the eternal ideas of transient phenomena become\nconscious of themselves. Such, we take it, is the true interpretation\nof Aristotle\u2019s famous distinction between an active and a passive Nous.\nThe one, he tells us, _makes_ whatever the other is _made_. The active\nNous is like light raising colours from possibility to actuality. It is\neternal, but we have no remembrance of its past existence, because the\npassive Nous, without which it can think nothing, is perishable.\n\nIt will be seen that we do not consider the two kinds of Nous to differ\nfrom each other as a higher and a lower faculty. This, in our opinion,\nhas been the great mistake of the commentators, of those, at least,\nwho do not identify the active Nous with God, or with some agency\nemanating from God\u2014a hypothesis utterly inconsistent with Aristotle\u2019s\ntheology. They describe it as a faculty, and as concerned with some\nhigher kind of knowledge than what lies within the reach of the passive\nNous.[258] But with Aristotle faculty is always a potentiality and a\npassive recipient, whereas the creative reason is expressly declared\nto be an actuality, which, in this connexion, can mean nothing but an\nindividual idea. The difficulty is to understand why the objective\nforms of things should suddenly be spoken of as existing within the\nmind, and denominated by a term carrying with it such subjective\nassociations as Nous; a difficulty not diminished by the mysterious\ncomparison with light in its relation to colour, an illustration\nwhich, in this instance, has only made the darkness visible. We\nbelieve that Aristotle was led to express himself as he did by the\nfollowing considerations. He began by simply conceiving that, just\nas the senses were raised from potency to actuality through contact\nwith the corresponding qualities in external objects, so also was the\nreasoning faculty moulded into particular thoughts through contact with\nthe particular things embodying them; thus, for instance, it was led\nto conceive the general idea of straightness by actual experience of\nstraight lines. It then, perhaps, occurred to him that one and the same\nobject could not produce two such profoundly different impressions as\na sensation and a thought; that mind was opposed to external realities\nby the attribute of self-consciousness; and that a form inherent in\nmatter could not directly impress itself on an immaterial substance.\nThe idea of a creative Nous was, we think, devised in order to escape\nfrom these perplexities. The ideal forms of things are carried into\nthe mind, together with the sensations, and in passing through the\nimagination, become purified from the matter previously associated\nwith them. Thus they may be conceived as part of the mind\u2014in, though\nnot yet of it\u2014and as acting on its highest faculty, the passive\nNous. And, by a kind of anticipation, they are called by the name of\nwhat they become completely identified with in cognition. As forms of\nthings they are eternal; as thoughts they are self-conscious; while,\nin both capacities, they are creative, and their creative activity\nis an essentially immaterial process. Here we have the old confusion\nbetween form and function; the old inability to reconcile the claims\nof the universal and the particular in knowledge and existence. After\nall, Aristotle is obliged to extract an actuality from the meeting of\ntwo possibilities, instead of from the meeting of an actuality and a\npossibility. Probably the weakness of his own theory did not escape\nhim, for he never subsequently recurs to it.[259]\n\nAristotle\u2019s work on reproduction is supposed by many to contain a\nreference to his distinction between the two Reasons, but we are\nconvinced that this is a mistake. What we are told is that at the\nvery first formation of a new being, the vegetative soul, being an\nexclusively corporeal function, is precontained in the elements\nfurnished by the female; that the sensitive soul is contributed by the\nmale (being, apparently, engendered in the semen by the vital heat of\nthe parent organism); and, finally, that the rational soul, although\nentirely immaterial, is also carried in with the semen, into which it\nhas first been introduced from without, but where, or when, or how is\nnot more particularly specified.[260] But even were the genetic theory\nin question perfectly cleared up, it would still throw no light on the\ndistinction between active and passive reason, as the latter alone\ncan be understood by the rational soul to which it refers. For we are\nexpressly informed\u2014what indeed hardly required to be stated\u2014that\nthe embryonic souls exist not in act but in potency.[261] It seems,\ntherefore, that Mr. Edwin Wallace is doubly mistaken when he quotes\na sentence from this passage in justification of his statement, that\n\u2018Aristotle would seem almost to identify\u2019 the creative reason \u2018with\nGod as the eternal and omnipresent thinker;\u2019[262] first, because it\ndoes not refer to the creative Nous at all; and, secondly, because,\nif it did, the words would not stand the meaning which he puts upon\nthem.[263]\n\nBut if even so little as this remains unproved, what are we to think\nof the astounding assertion, that \u2018Aristotle\u2019s theory of a creative\nreason, fragmentary as that theory is left, is the answer to all\nmaterialistic theories of the universe. To Aristotle, as to a subtle\nScottish preacher,[264] \u201cthe real pre-supposition of all knowledge,\nor the thought which is the _prius_ of all things, is not the\nindividual\u2019s consciousness of himself as individual, but a thought or\nself-consciousness which is beyond all individual selves, which is the\nunity of all individual selves, and their objects, of all thinkers and\nall objects of thought.\u201d\u2019[265] How can materialism or anything else\nbe possibly refuted by a theory which is so obscurely set forth that\nno two interpreters are able to agree in their explanation of it? And\neven were it stated with perfect clearness and fulness, how can any\nhypothesis be refuted by a mere dogmatic declaration of Aristotle? Are\nwe back in the Middle Ages that his _ipse dixit_ is to decide questions\nnow raised with far ampler means of discussion than he could possess?\nAs to Principal Caird\u2019s metaphysics, we have no wish to dispute their\ntheoretic accuracy, and can only admire the liberality of a Church in\nwhich propositions so utterly destructive of traditional orthodoxy\nare allowed to be preached. But one thing we are certain of, and that\nis, that whether or not they are consistent with Christian theism,\nthey are utterly inconsistent with Aristotelian principles. Which is\nthe \u2018thought or self-consciousness\u2019 referred to, a possibility or an\nactuality? If the former, it is not a _prius_, nor is it the creative\nreason. If the latter, it cannot transcend all or any individual\nselves, for, with Aristotle, individuals are the sole reality, and the\nsupreme being of his system is pre-eminently individual; neither can it\nunify them, for, according to Aristotle, two things which are two in\nactuality cannot be one in actuality.[266]\n\nWe now turn to Sir A. Grant, who, as was mentioned at the beginning\nof the last chapter, makes Aristotle a supporter of the late Prof.\nFerrier. We will state the learned Principal\u2019s view in his own words:\u2014\n\n \u2018His utterances on this subject [the existence of an external world]\n are perhaps chiefly to be found in the third book of his treatise\n \u201cOn the Soul,\u201d beginning with the fourth chapter. On turning to them\n we see that he never separates existence from knowledge. \u201cA thing in\n actual existence,\u201d he says, \u201cis identical with the knowledge of that\n thing.\u201d Again, \u201cThe possible existence of a thing is identical with\n the possibility in us of perceiving or knowing it.\u201d Thus, until a\n thing is perceived or known, it can only be said to have a potential\n or possible existence. And from this a doctrine very similar to that\n of Ferrier might be deduced, that \u201cnothing exists except _plus_\n me,\u201d\u2014that is to say, in relation to some mind perceiving it.\u2018\n (_Aristotle_, p. 165.)\n\nAfter much searching, we have not been able to find the originals\nof the two passages quoted by Sir A. Grant. We have, however, found\nothers setting forth the doctrine of Natural Realism with a clearness\nwhich leaves nothing to be desired. Aristotle tells us that former\nnaturalists were wrong when they said that there could be no black\nor white without vision, and no taste without tasting; that is, they\nwere right about the actuality, and wrong about the possibility; for,\nas he explains, our sensations are produced by the action of external\nbodies on the appropriate organs, the activity being the same while\nthe existence is different. A sonorous body produces a sound in our\nhearing; the sound perceived and the action of the body are identical,\nbut not their existence; for, he adds, the hearer need not be always\nlistening, nor the sonorous body sounding; and so with all the other\nsenses.[267]\n\nThis is not making the _percipi_ of objects their _esse_. Again, in\nthe eighth chapter he tells us that the soul is \u2018in a certain way\u2019\n(\u03c0\u1ff6\u03c2) all things, since all things are either sensible or cogitable;\nand then he proceeds to explain what is meant by \u2018in a certain way.\u2019\nSense and knowledge are distributed over things in such wise that their\npossibility is the possibility, and their actuality the actuality, of\nthe things. They must, then, be either the things themselves or their\nforms. \u2018_But the things themselves they are surely not_, for the stone\nis not in the soul, but its form.\u2019 In the _Metaphysics_, Aristotle\nexpresses himself to the same effect, but even more explicitly.\nCriticising the Protagorean doctrine, he reduces it to an absurdity by\nurging that if there were nothing but sensibles, then nothing at all\ncould exist in the absence of animated beings, for without them there\nwould be no sensation. He admits that in the case supposed there would\nbe neither feelings nor felt objects, since these presuppose a sentient\nsubject; but adds, that for the substances (\u03c4\u1f70 \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03ba\u03b5\u03af\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1) which\nproduce the feeling not to exist is impossible; \u2018for there is something\nelse besides the feeling which must necessarily exist before it.\u2019[268]\nAnd immediately afterwards he clinches the argument by observing that\nif appearances were the only truth, there would be no independent\nexistences, and everything would be relative, since appearances exist\nonly in relation to some one to whom they appear. Now we need hardly\nsay that this universal relativity was precisely what Ferrier contended\nfor.\n\nSir A. Grant is on stronger, or rather on more inaccessible ground,\nwhen he uses the distinction between the two reasons as involving a\nsort of idealistic theory, because here Aristotle\u2019s meaning is much\nless clearly expressed. Yet, if our interpretation be the correct\none, if the creative Nous simply means the forms of things acting\nthrough the imagination on the possibilities of subjective conception,\nAristotle\u2019s view will be exactly the reverse of that contended for by\nSir Alexander; thought, instead of moulding, will itself be moulded\nby external reality. In no case have we a right to set an obscure and\ndisputed passage against Aristotle\u2019s distinct, emphatic, and reiterated\ndeclarations, that sensation and ideation are substantially analogous\nprocesses, taken together with his equally distinct declaration,\nthat the objects of sensation are independent of our feelings. We\nthink, indeed, that Sir A. Grant will find, on reconsideration, that\nhe is proving too much. For, if the things which reason creates were\nexternal to the mind, then Aristotle would go at least as far as\nthose \u2018extreme German idealists\u2019 from whom his expositor is anxious\nto separate him. Finally, we would observe that to set up Aristotle\u2019s\ndistinction between form and matter in opposition to the materialistic\ntheories of the present day, shows a profound misconception of its\nmeaning. Form and matter are nowhere distinguished from one another\nas subject and object. Form simply means the attributes of a thing,\nthe entire aggregate of its differential characteristics. But that\nthis does not of itself amount to conscious reason we are told by\nAristotle himself.[269] On the other hand, the \u2018matter\u2019 to which \u2018some\nphilosophers\u2019 attribute \u2018an independent existence,\u2019 is not his \u2018matter\u2019\nat all, but just the sum of things _minus_ consciousness. The Stagirite\ndid not, it is true, believe in the possibility of such a universe, but\nonly (as we have shown) because he was not acquainted with the highest\nlaws of motion. Yet, even taking \u2018matter\u2019 in his own technical sense,\nAristotle would have agreed with Prof. Tyndall, that it contained the\npromise and the potency of all future life, reason alone excepted. He\ntells us very clearly that the sensitive soul is a somatic function,\nsomething which, although not body, belongs to body; and this we\nconceive is all that any materialist would now contend for.[270] And\nhaving gone so far, there really was nothing to prevent him from going\na step farther, had he only been acquainted with the dependence of\nall intelligence on nervous action. At any rate, the tendency is now\nto obliterate the distinction where he drew it, and to substitute for\nit another distinction which he neglected. While all functions of\nconsciousness, from the most elementary sensation to the most complex\nreasoning, seem to pass into one another by imperceptible gradations,\nconsciousness in general is still separated from objective existence\nby an impassable chasm; and if there is any hope of reconciling them\nit lies in the absolute idealism which he so summarily rejected. What\nwe have had occasion repeatedly to point out in other departments of\nhis system, is verified once more in his psychology. The progress of\nthought has resulted from a reunion of the principles between which\nhe drew a rigid demarcation. We have found that perception can only\nbe understood as a process essentially homogeneous with the highest\nthought, and neither more nor less immaterial than it is. On the\nobjective side, both may be resolved into sensori-motor actions; on\nthe subjective side, into groups of related feelings. And here, also,\nwe have to note that when Aristotle anticipates modern thought, it is\nthrough his one great mediating, synthetic conception. He observes\nincidentally that our knowledge of size and shape is acquired, not\nthrough the special senses, but by motion\u2014an aper\u00e7u much in advance of\nLocke.[271]\n\nIf there are any who value Aristotle as a champion of spiritualism,\nthey must take him with his encumbrances. If his philosophy proves\nthat one part of the soul is immaterial, it proves equally that the\nsoul, taking it altogether, is perishable. Not only does he reject\nPlato\u2019s metempsychosis as inconsistent with physiology, but he\ndeclares that affection, memory, and reasoning are functions not of\nthe eternal Nous, but of the whole man, and come to an end with his\ndissolution. As to the active Nous, he tells us that it cannot think\nwithout the assistance of the passive Nous, which is mortal. And there\nare various passages in the \u2018Nicomachean Ethics\u2019 showing that he had\nfaced this negation of a future life, and was perfectly resigned\nto its consequences.[272] At one period of his life, probably when\nunder the immediate influence of Plato, he had indulged in dreams\nof immortality; but a profounder acquaintance with natural science\nsufficed to dissipate them. Perhaps a lingering veneration for his\nteacher made him purposely use ambiguous language in reference to the\neternity of that creative reason which he had so closely associated\nwith self-consciousness. It may remind us of Spinoza\u2019s celebrated\nproposition, _Sentimus experimurque nos aeternos esse_, words\nabsolutely disconnected with the hope of a continued existence of the\nindividual after death, but apparently intended to enlist some of the\nsentiment associated with that belief on the side of the writer\u2019s own\nphilosophy.\n\nOn the other hand, the spirit of Plato\u2019s religion survived in the\nteaching of his disciple under a new form. The idea of an eternal\npersonality was, as it were, unified and made objective by being\ntransferred from the human to the divine; and so each philosopher\ndevelopes an aspect of religious faith which is wanting in the other,\nthereby illustrating the tendencies, to some extent mutually exclusive;\nwhich divide all theology between them. It remains to observe that\nif even Aristotle\u2019s theism is inconsistent with the Catholic faith,\nmuch more must his psychology be its direct negation. _The_ Philosophy\nof _the_ Philosopher is as fatal to the Church\u2019s doctrine of future\nrewards and punishments as it is to her doctrine of divine interference\nwith the usual order of nature.\n\n\nVI.\n\nWe now pass to the consideration of Aristotle\u2019s most important\nachievement\u2014his system of logic. And as, here also, we shall find much\nto criticise, it is as well to begin by saying that, in our opinion,\nhis contributions to the science are the most valuable ever made, and\nperhaps have done more to advance it than all other writings on the\nsame subject put together.\n\nThe principal business of reason is, as we have seen, to form abstract\nideas or concepts of things. But before the time of Aristotle it had\nalready been discovered that concepts, or rather the terms expressing\nthem, were capable of being united in propositions which might be\neither true or false, and whose truth might be a matter either of\ncertainty or of simple opinion. Now, in modern psychology, down to the\nmost recent times, it has always been assumed that, just as there is\nan intellectual faculty or operation called abstraction corresponding\nto the terms of which a proposition is composed, so also there is\na faculty or operation called judgment corresponding to the entire\nproposition. Sometimes, again, the third operation, which consists in\nlinking propositions together to form syllogisms, is assigned to a\ndistinct faculty called reason; sometimes all three are regarded as\nascending steps in a single fundamental process. Neither Plato nor\nAristotle, however, had thought out the subject so scientifically.\nTo both the framing, or rather the discovery, of concepts was by far\nthe most important business of a philosopher, judgment and reasoning\nbeing merely subsidiary to it. Hence, while in one part of their\nlogic they were realists and conceptualists, in other parts they\nwere nominalists. Abstract names and the definitions unfolding their\nconnotation corresponded to actual entities in Nature\u2014the eternal\nIdeas of the one and the substantial forms of the other\u2014as well as to\nmental representations about whose existence they were agreed, while\nascribing to them a different origin. But they did not in like manner\ntreat propositions as the expression of natural laws without, or of\njudgments within, the mind; while reasoning they regarded much more as\nan art of thinking, a method for the discovery of ideas, than as the\nSystematisation of a process spontaneously performed by every human\nbeing without knowing it; and, even as such, their tendency is to\nconnect it with the theory of definition rather than with the theory of\nsynthetic propositions. Some approach to a realistic view is, indeed,\nmade by both. The restless and penetrating thought of Plato had,\nprobably towards the close of his career, led him to enquire into the\nmutual relations of those Ideas which he had at first been inclined to\nregard as absolutely distinct. He shows us in the _Sophist_ how the\nmost abstract notions, such as Being, Identity, and so forth, must,\nto a certain extent, partake of each other\u2019s nature; and when their\nrelationship does not lie on the surface, he seeks to establish it by\nthe interposition of a third idea obviously connected with both. In the\nlater books of the _Republic_ he also points to a scheme for arranging\nhis Ideas according to a fixed hierarchy resembling the concatenation\nof mathematical proofs, by ascending and descending whose successive\ngradations the mind is to become familiarised with absolute truth; and\nwe shall presently see how Aristotle, following in the same track,\nsought for a counterpart to his syllogistic method in the objective\norder of things. Nevertheless, with him, as well as with his master,\nscience was not what it is with us, a study of laws, a perpetually\ngrowing body of truth, but a process of definition and classification,\na systematisation of what had already been perceived and thought.\n\nIt was from the initiative of Socrates that logic received this\ndirection. By insisting on the supreme importance of definition, he\ndrew away attention from the propositions which add to our knowledge,\nand concentrated it on those which only fix with precision the meaning\nof words. Yet, in so doing he was influenced quite as much by the\nspirit of the older physical philosophy, which he denounced, as by\nthe necessities of the new humanistic culture, which he helped to\nintroduce. His definitions were, in truth, the reproduction, on a very\nminute scale, of those attempts to formulate the whole universe which\nbusied the earliest Ionian speculation. Following the natural tendency\nof Greek thought, and the powerful attraction of cosmic philosophy,\nan effort was speedily made to generalise and connect these partial\ndefinitions until they grew into a system of universal classification.\nIt was when, under the influence of a new analysis, this system\nthreatened to fall to pieces, that a rudimentary doctrine of judgment\nfirst made its appearance. The structure of a grammatical sentence was\nused to explain how objective ideas could, in a manner, overlap and\nadhere to one another. Hence propositions, which, as the expression\nof general truths, were destined to become the beginning and end of\nthought, remained at first strictly subordinated to the individual\nconcepts that they linked and reconciled.\n\nWith Aristotle propositions assumed a new importance. He looked on them\nas mediating, not only between concepts, but also between conception\nand reasoning. Still, neither as a psychologist nor as a logician did\nhe appreciate them at their real value. A very brief consideration is\ngiven to judgment in his work on the soul, and we are left in doubt\nwhether it is a function of Nous alone or of Nous combined with some\nother faculty. Setting aside the treatise on Interpretation, which\nis probably spurious, and, at any rate, throws no new light on the\nsubject, we may gather from his logical writings half a dozen different\nsuggestions towards a classification of propositions, based partly\non their form and partly on their import. In all we find an evident\ntendency to apply, here also, his grand fundamental distinction between\nthe sphere of uniformity and the sphere of change and opposition.\nAll propositions are either universal or particular; either positive\nor negative; either necessary or actual or contingent; either\nreciprocating or not reciprocating; either essential or accidental;\neither answering to the first question in the categories, or to one of\nthe other nine.[273] But nowhere is any attempt made to combine and\nsystematise these various points of view.\n\nIn the theory of reasoning the simple proposition is taken as a\nstarting-point; but instead of deducing the syllogism from the\nsynthesis of two premises, Aristotle reaches the premises through the\nconclusion. He tells us, indeed, that reasoning is a way of discovering\nfrom what we know, something that we did not know before. With him,\nhowever, it is really a process not of discovery but of proof. He\nstarts with the conclusion, analyses it into predicate and subject or\nmajor and minor, and then, by a further analysis, introduces a middle\nterm connecting the two. Thus, we begin with the proposition, \u2018Caius\nis mortal,\u2019 and prove it by interpolating the notion humanity between\nits two extremes. From this point of view the premises are merely a\ntemporary scaffolding for bringing the major and minor into connexion\nwith the middle term; and this is also the reason why Aristotle\nrecognises three syllogistic figures only, instead of the four admitted\nby later logicians. For, the middle may either be contained in one\nextreme and contain the other, which gives us the first figure; or it\nmay contain both, which gives the second figure; or be contained in\nboth, which gives the third; and this is an exhaustive enumeration of\nthe possible combinations.[274]\n\nWe have here, also, the secret of that elaborate machinery devised for\nthe very unnecessary purpose of converting syllogisms of the second\nand third figure into syllogisms of the first, which is one of the\nStagirite\u2019s principal contributions to logic. For it is only in the\nfirst figure that the notion by which the extremes are either united\nor held apart is really a middle term, that is to say, really comes\nbetween the others. The distinction between perfect and imperfect\nsyllogisms also serves to illustrate Aristotle\u2019s systematic division\nbetween the necessary and the contingent. The method of proof by\ninclusion corresponds in its unconditioned and independent validity\nto the concentric arrangement of the supernal spheres; the second and\nthird figures, with their conversions and reductions, to the sublunary\nsphere in its helpless dependence on the celestial revolutions, and\nits transformations of the elements into one another.\n\nThe rules which Aristotle gives us for the conversion of propositions\nare no doubt highly instructive, and throw great light on their\nmeaning; but one cannot help observing that such a process as\nconversion ought, on his own principles, to have been inadmissible.\nWith Plato, the copulation of subject and predicate corresponded to an\nalmost mechanical juxtaposition of two self-existent ideas. It was,\ntherefore, a matter of indifference in what order they were placed.\nAristotle, on the other hand, after insisting on the restoration of the\nconcrete object, and reducing general notions to an analysis of its\nparticular aspects, could not but make the predicate subordinate to,\nand dependent on, the subject\u2014a relation which altogether excludes\nthe logical possibility of making them interchangeable with one\nanother.[275]\n\nThe antithetical structure of the whole system is reproduced even in\nthe first syllogistic figure, where there is a similar opposition\nbetween the first mood, by which alone universal affirmatives can\nbe obtained, and the remaining three, whose conclusions are either\nnegative or particular, or both. And the complicated rules for\ntesting the validity of those syllogisms in which the premises are\ndistinguished as necessary, actual, and possible, are still more\nobviously based on Aristotle\u2019s false metaphysical distinctions; so\nthat with the overthrow of those distinctions large portions of the\n_Analytics_ lose their entire value for modern students.\n\nOn the other hand, a theory of reasoning based on the relations of\nconcepts, instead of on the relations of judgments, necessarily leaves\nout of account the whole doctrine of hypothetical and disjunctive\npropositions, together with that of the syllogisms based on them; since\nthe elements of which they are composed are themselves propositions.\nAnd this inevitable omission is the more remarkable because\nalternative and, to a less extent, hypothetical arguments form the\nstaple of Aristotle\u2019s own dialectic; while categorical reasoning never\noccurs in it at all. His constant method is to enumerate all possible\nviews of a subject, and examine them one after the other, rejecting\nthose which are untenable, and resting content with the remainder. In\nother words, he reaches his positive conclusions through a series of\nnegative premises representing a process of gradual elimination. The\n_First Analytics_ is itself an admirable instance of his favourite\nmethod. Every possible combination of terms is discussed, and the\nvalid moods are sifted out from a much greater number of illegitimate\nsyllogisms. The dialectic of Socrates and Plato followed the same\nprocedure. It was essentially experimental\u2014a method of trial,\nelimination, and selection. On going back still further, we find that\nwhen there is any reasoning at all in Homer, it is conducted after the\nsame fashion. Hector, in his soliloquy before the Scaean Gate, imagines\nthree alternative courses, together exhausting the possibilities of the\nsituation. He may either retreat within the walls, or offer terms of\npeace to Achilles, or fight. The first two alternatives being rejected,\nnothing remains but the third. This is the most elaborate example; but\non many other occasions Homer\u2019s actors are represented as hesitating\nbetween two courses, and finally deciding on one of them.\n\nDisjunction is, in truth, the primordial form of all reasoning, out\nof which the other forms are successively evolved; and, as such, it\nis common to man with the lower animals. You are taking a walk in\nthe country with your dog. You come to a stream and jump over it. On\nmeasuring the distance with his eye, the animal is afraid to follow\nyou. After waiting a little, he first runs up stream in search of a\ncrossing, and, finding none, returns to look for one in the opposite\ndirection. Failing there also, he comes back once more, and either\nventures on the leap or makes his way home by some other route. Now,\non considering the matter a little more closely, we shall find that\nhypothetical reasoning takes its rise from the examination of each\nseparate alternative presented by a disjunctive premise. A plurality of\ncourses being open to us, we consider what will ensue on the acceptance\nor rejection of each. The dog in our illustration thinks (after a\ncanine fashion) that if he jumps he may fall in; if he does not, he\nwill be left behind. Hector will not take refuge within the walls,\nbecause, if he does, Polydamas will triumph over him; nor will he offer\nterms of peace, because, if he does, Achilles will refuse them. Once\nmore, categorical reasoning is developed out of hypothetical reasoning\nby the necessity of deducing consequences from a general rule. Hector\nmust have argued from the known characters of Polydamas and Achilles,\nthat in certain circumstances they would act after a certain manner. We\nmay add, that this progress of conscious reasoning is a reproduction of\nthe unconscious logic according to which life itself is evolved. All\nsorts of combinations are spontaneously produced, which, in consequence\nof the struggle for existence, cannot all survive. Those adapted to the\nconditions of life are selected, on trial, at the expense of the rest;\nand their adaptation or non-adaptation is determined in accordance\nwith categorical laws. Furthermore, the framing of a disjunctive\nproposition necessitates the systematic distribution of possibilities\nunder mutually exclusive heads, thus involving the logical processes\nof definition, division, and classification. Dialectic, as Plato\nunderstood it, consisted almost entirely in the joint performance of\nthese operations;\u2014a process which Aristotle regards as the immediate\nbut very imperfect precursor of his own syllogistic method.[276] You\ncannot, he says, prove anything by dividing, for instance, all living\nthings into the two classes, mortal and immortal; unless, indeed, you\nassume the very point under discussion\u2014to which class a particular\nspecies belongs. Yet this is how he constantly reasons himself; and\neven demonstrative reasoning, as he interprets it, implies the\npossession of a ready-made classification. For, according to him, it\nconsists exclusively of propositions which predicate some essential\nattribute of a thing\u2014in other words, some attribute already included\nin the definition of the subject; and a continuous series of such\ndefinitions can only be given by a fixed classification of things.\n\n\nVII.\n\nWe have endeavoured to show that Aristotle\u2019s account of the syllogism\nis redundant on the one side and defective on the other, both errors\nbeing due to a false analysis of the reasoning process itself, combined\nwith a false metaphysical philosophy. The same evil influences tell\nwith much greater effect on his theory of applied reasoning. Here the\nfundamental division, corresponding to that between heaven and earth\nin the cosmos, is between demonstration and dialectic or experimental\nreasoning. The one starts with first principles of unquestionable\nvalidity, the other with principles the validity of which is to be\ntested by their consequences. Stated in its most abstract form, the\ndistinction is sound, and very nearly prefigures the modern division\nbetween deduction and induction, the process by which general laws are\napplied, and the process by which they are established. Aristotle,\nhowever, committed two great mistakes; he thought that each method\ncorresponded to an entirely different order of phenomena: and he\nthought that both were concerned for the most part with definitions.\nThe _Posterior Analytics_, which contains his theory of demonstration,\nanswers to the astronomical portion of his physics; it is the doctrine\nof eternal and necessary truth. And just as his ontology distinguishes\nbetween the Prime Mover himself unmoved and the eternal movement\nproduced by his influence, so also his logic distinguishes between\ninfallible first principles and the truths derived from them, the\nlatter being, in his opinion, of inferior value. Now, according to\nAristotle, these first principles are definitions, and it is to this\nfact that their self-evident certainty is due. At the same time they\nare not verbal but real definitions\u2014that is to say, the universal\nforms of things in themselves as made manifest to the eye of reason,\nor rather, stamped upon it like the impression of a signet-ring on\nwax. And, by a further refinement, he seems to distinguish between the\nconcept as a whole and the separate marks which make it up, these last\nbeing the ultimate elements of all existence, and as much beyond its\ncomplex forms as Nous is beyond reasoned truth.\n\nSuch a view was essentially unfavourable to the progress of science,\nassigning, as it did, a higher dignity to meagre and very questionable\nabstractions than to the far-reaching combinations by which alone we\nare enabled to unravel the inmost texture of visible phenomena. Instead\nof using reason to supplement sense, Aristotle turned it into a more\nsubtle and universal kind of sense; and if this disastrous assimilation\nwas to a certain extent imposed upon him by the traditions of Athenian\nthought, it harmonised admirably with the descriptive and superficial\ncharacter of his own intelligence. Much was also due to the method of\ngeometry, which in his time had already assumed the form made familiar\nto us by Euclid\u2019s _Elements_. The employment of axioms side by side\nwith definitions, might, indeed, have drawn his attention to the\nexistence and importance of judgments which, in Kantian terminology,\nare not analytic but synthetic\u2014that is, which add to the content of\na notion instead of simply analysing it. But although he mentions\naxioms, and states that mathematical theorems are deduced from them,\nno suspicion of their essential difference from definitions, or of the\ntypical significance which they were destined to assume in the theory\nof reasoning, seems ever to have crossed his mind; otherwise he could\nhardly have failed to ask how we come by our knowledge of them, and to\nwhat they correspond in Nature. On the whole, it seems likely that\nhe looked on them as an analysis of our ideas, differing only from\ndefinition proper by the generality of its application; for he names\nthe law of contradiction as the most important of all axioms, and that\nfrom which the others proceed;[277] next to it he places the law of\nexcluded middle, which is also analytical; and his only other example\nis, that if equals be taken from equals the remainders are equal, a\njudgment the synthetic character of which is by no means clear, and has\noccasionally been disputed.[278]\n\nWe cannot, then, agree with those critics who attribute to Aristotle a\nrecognition of such things as \u2018laws of nature,\u2019 in the sense of uniform\nco-existences and sequences.[279] Such an idea implies a certain\nbalance and equality between subject and predicate which he would never\nhave admitted. It would, in his own language, be making relation,\ninstead of substance, the leading category. It must be remembered\nalso that he did not acknowledge the existence of those constant\nconjunctions in Nature which we call laws. He did not admit that all\nmatter was heavy, or that fluidity implied the presence of heat. The\npossession of constant properties, or rather of a single constant\nproperty\u2014circular rotation\u2014is reserved for the aether. Nor is this a\ncommon property of different and indefinitely multipliable phenomena;\nit characterises a single body, measurable in extent and unique in\nkind. Moreover, we have something better than indirect evidence on\nthis point; we have the plain statement of Aristotle himself, that\nall science depends on first principles, about which it is impossible\nto be mistaken, precisely because they are universal abstractions\nnot presented to the mind by any combination,[280]\u2014a view quite\ninconsistent with the priority now given to general laws.\n\nAnswering to the first principles of demonstration in logic, if not\nabsolutely identical with them, are what Aristotle calls causes in\nthe nature of things. We have seen what an important part the middle\nterm plays in Aristotle\u2019s theory of the syllogism. It is the vital\nprinciple of demonstration, the connecting link by which the two\nextreme terms are attached to one another. In the theory of applied\nlogic, whose object is to bring the order of thought into complete\nparallelism with the order of things, the middle term through which\na fact is demonstrated answers to the cause through which it exists.\nAccording to our notions, only two terms, antecedent and consequent,\nare involved in the idea of causation; and causation only becomes a\nmatter for reasoning when we perceive that the sequence is repeated\nin a uniform manner. But Aristotle was very far from having reached,\nor even suspected, this point of view. A cause is with him not a\ndetermining antecedent, but a secret nexus by which the co-existence\nof two phenomena is explained. Instead of preceding it intercedes; and\nthis is why he finds its subjective counterpart in the middle term of\nthe syllogism. Some of his own examples will make the matter clearer.\nWhy is the moon eclipsed? Because the earth intervenes between her\nand the sun. Why is the bright side of the moon always turned towards\nthe sun? Because she shines by his reflected light (here light is the\nmiddle term). Why is that person talking to the rich man? Because he\nwants to borrow money of him. Why are those two men friends? Because\nthey have the same enemy.[281]\n\nAristotle even goes so far as to eliminate the notion of sequence\nfrom causation altogether. He tells us that the causes of events are\ncontemporary with the events themselves; those of past events being\npast; of present events, present; and of future events, future. \u2018This\nthing will not be because that other thing has happened, for the middle\nterm must be homogeneous with the extremes.\u2019[282] It is obvious that\nsuch a limitation abolishes the power of scientific prediction, which,\nif not the only test of knowledge, is at any rate its most valuable\nverification. The Stagirite has been charged with trusting too much\nto deductive reasoning; it now appears that, on the contrary, he had\nno conception of its most important function. Here, as everywhere, he\nfollows not the synthetic method of the mathematician, but the analytic\nmethod of the naturalist. Finally, instead of combining the notions of\ncause and kind, he systematically confuses them. It will be remembered\nhow his excellent division of causes into material, formal, efficient,\nand final, was rendered nugatory by the continued influence of Plato\u2019s\nideas. The formal cause always tended to absorb the other three; and\nit is by their complete assimilation that he attempts to harmonise the\norder of demonstration with the order of existence. For the formal\ncause of a phenomenon simply meant those properties which it shared\nwith others of the same kind, and it was by virtue of those properties\nthat it became a subject for general reasoning, which was interpreted\nas a methodical arrangement of concepts one within another, answering\nto the concentric disposition of the cosmic spheres.\n\nOwing to the slight importance which Aristotle attaches to judgments as\ncompared with concepts, he does not go very deeply into the question,\nhow do we obtain our premises? He says, in remarkably emphatic\nlanguage, that all knowledge is acquired either by demonstration or\nby induction; or rather, we may add, in the last resort by the latter\nonly, since demonstration rests on generals which are discovered\ninductively; but his generals mean definitions and abstract predicates\nor subjects, rather than synthetic propositions. If, however, his\nattention had been called to the distinction, we cannot suppose that\nhe would, on his own principles, have adopted conclusions essentially\ndifferent from those of the modern experiential school. Mr. Wallace\ndoes, indeed, claim him as a supporter of the theory that no inference\ncan be made from particulars to particulars without the aid of a\ngeneral proposition, and as having refuted, by anticipation, Mill\u2019s\nassertion to the contrary. We quote the analysis which is supposed to\nprove this in Mr. Wallace\u2019s own words:\u2014\n\n We reason that because the war between Thebes and Phocis was a war\n between neighbours and an evil, therefore the war between Athens and\n Thebes, being also a war between neighbours, will in all probability\n be also an evil. Thus, out of the one parallel case\u2014the war between\n Thebes and Phocis\u2014we form the _general_ proposition, All wars between\n neighbours are evils; to this we add the minor, the war between Athens\n and Thebes is a war between neighbours\u2014and thence arrive at the\n conclusion that the war between Athens and Thebes will be likewise an\n evil.[283]\n\nOn the strength of this Mr. Wallace elsewhere observes:\u2014\n\n His [Aristotle\u2019s] theory of syllogism is simply an explicit statement\n of the fact that all knowledge, all thought, rests on universal truths\n or general propositions\u2014that all knowledge, whether \u2018deductive\u2019 or\n \u2018inductive,\u2019 is arrived at by the aid, the indispensable aid, of\n general propositions. We in England have been almost charmed into the\n belief that reasoning is perpetually from particular to particular,\n and a \u2018village matron\u2019 and her \u2018Lucy\u2019 have been used to express the\n truth for us in the concrete form adapted to our weaker comprehension\n (Mill\u2019s _Logic_, bk. ii. ch. 3). We shall next be told, forsooth,\n that oxygen and hydrogen do not enter into the composition of water,\n because our village matron \u2018perpetually\u2019 drinks it without \u2018passing\n through\u2019 either element, and the analysis of the chemist will be\n proved as great a fiction as the analysis of the logician. Aristotle\n has supplied the links which at once upset all such superficial\n analysis. He has shown that even in analogy or example, which\n _apparently_ proceeds in this way from one particular instance to\n another particular instance, we are only justified in so proceeding in\n so far as we have transformed the particular instance into a general\n proposition.[284]\n\nNow, there is this great difference between Aristotle and Mill, that\nthe former is only showing how reasoning from examples can be set\nforth in syllogistic form, while the latter is investigating the\npsychological process which underlies all reasoning, and the real\nfoundation on which a valid inference rests\u2014questions which had never\npresented themselves clearly to the mind of the Greek philosopher at\nall. Mill argues, in the first instance, that when any particular\nproposition is deduced from a general proposition, it is proved\nby the same evidence as that on which the general itself rests,\nnamely, on other particulars; and, so far, he is in perfect agreement\nwith Aristotle. He then argues that inferences from particulars to\nparticulars are perpetually made without passing through a general\nproposition: and, to illustrate his meaning, he quotes the example of a\n\u2018village matron and her Lucy,\u2019 to which Mr. Wallace refers with a very\ngratuitous sneer.[285]\n\nHowever, as we have seen, he is not above turning it against Mill. The\ndrift of his own illustration is not very clear, but we suppose it\nimplies that the matron unconsciously frames the general proposition:\nMy remedy is good for all children suffering from the same disease as\nLucy; and with equal unconsciousness reasons down from this to the case\nof her neighbour\u2019s child. Now, it is quite unjustifiable to call Mill\u2019s\nanalysis superficial because it leaves out of account a hypothesis\nincompatible with the nominalism which Mill professed. It is still\nmore unjustifiable to quote against it the authority of a philosopher\nwho perfectly agreed with those who disbelieve in the possibility\nof unconscious knowledge,[286] and contemptuously rejected Plato\u2019s\nopinion to the contrary. Nor is this all. The doctrine that reasoning\nis from particulars to particulars, even when it passes through\ngeneral propositions, may be rigorously deduced from Aristotle\u2019s own\nadmissions. If nothing exists but particulars, and if knowledge is of\nwhat exists, then all knowledge is of particulars. Therefore, if the\npropositions entering into a chain of reasoning are knowledge, they\nmust deal with particulars exclusively. And, quite apart from the later\ndevelopments of Aristotle\u2019s philosophy, we have his express assertion,\nthat all generals are derived from particulars, which is absolutely\nincompatible with the alleged fact, that \u2018all knowledge, all thought,\nrests on universal truths, on general propositions; that all knowledge,\nwhether \u201cdeductive\u201d or \u201cinductive,\u201d is arrived at by the aid, the\nindispensable aid, of general propositions.\u2019 To Aristotle the basis\nof knowledge was not \u2018truths\u2019 of any kind, but concepts; and in the\nlast chapter of the _Posterior Analytics_ he has explained how these\nconcepts are derived from sense-perceptions without the aid of any\n\u2018propositions\u2019 whatever.\n\nWe are here confronted with an important and much disputed question,\nWas Aristotle an empiricist? We hold most decidedly that he was,\nif by empiricist is meant, what alone should be meant\u2014one who\nbelieves that the mind neither anticipates anything in the content,\nnor contributes anything to the form of experience; in other words,\nwho believes knowledge to be the agreement of thought with things\nimposed by things on thought. We have already shown, when discussing\nSir A. Grant\u2019s view to the contrary, that Aristotle was in no sense\na transcendental idealist. The other half of our position is proved\nby the chapter in the _Posterior Analytics_ already referred to,\nthe language of which is _prim\u00e2 facie_ so much in favour of our\nview that the burden of proof rests on those who give it another\ninterpretation. Among these, the latest with whom we are acquainted\nis Zeller. The eminent German historian, after asserting in former\neditions of his work that Aristotle derived his first principles from\nthe self-contemplation of the Nous, has now, probably in deference\nto the unanswerable arguments of Kampe, abandoned this position. He\nstill, however, assumes the existence of a rather indefinable _\u00e0\npriori_ element in the Aristotelian noology, on the strength of the\nfollowing considerations:\u2014In the first place, according to Aristotle,\neven sense-perception is not a purely passive process, and therefore\nintellectual cognition can still less be so (p. 190). But the passages\nquoted only amount to this, that the passivity of a thing which is\nraised from possibility to actuality differs from the passivity\nimplied in the destruction of its proper nature; and that the objects\nof abstract thought come from within, not from without, in the sense\nthat they are presented by the imagination to the reason. The pure\nempiricist need not deny either position. He would freely admit that to\nlose one\u2019s reason through drunkenness or disease is a quite different\nsort of operation from being impressed with a new truth; and he would\nalso admit that we generalise not directly from outward experience, but\nfrom that highly-abridged and representative experience which memory\nsupplies. Neither process, however, constitutes an anticipation of\noutward experience or an addition to it. It is from the materialist,\nnot from the empiricist, that Aristotle differs. He believes that the\nforms under which matter appears are separable from every particular\nportion of matter, though not from all matter, in the external world;\nand he believes that a complete separation between them is effected\nin the single instance of self-conscious reason, which again, in\ncognising any particular thing is identified with that thing _minus_\nits matter. Zeller\u2019s next argument is that the cognition of ideas by\nthe Nous is immediate, whereas the process of generalisation from\nexperience described by Aristotle is extremely indirect. Here Zeller\nseems to misunderstand the word \u1f04\u03bc\u03b5\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2. Aristotle never applies it\nto knowledge, but only to the objective relations of ideas with one\nanother. Two terms constitute an \u2018immediate\u2019 premise when they are not\nconnected by another term, quite irrespective of the steps by which\nwe come to recognise their conjunction. So with the terms themselves.\nThey are \u2018immediate\u2019 when they cannot be derived from any ulterior\nprinciple; when, in short, they are simple and uncaused. Finally, the\nobjection that first principles, being the most certain and necessary\nof any, cannot be derived from sensible experience, which, dealing only\nwith material objects, must inherit the uncertainty and contingency\nof matter,\u2014is an objection, not to the empiricist interpretation\nof Aristotle\u2019s philosophy, but to empiricism itself; and it is not\nallowable to explain away the plain words of an ancient writer in\norder to reconcile them with assumptions which he nowhere admits.\nThat universality and necessity involve an _\u00e0 priori_ cognition or an\nintellectual intuition, is a modern theory unsupported by a single\nsentence in Aristotle.[287] We quite agree with Zeller when he goes on\nto say that in Aristotle\u2019s psychology \u2018certain thoughts and notions\narise through the action of the object thought about on the thinking\nmind, just as perception arises through the action of the perceived\nobject on the percipient\u2019 (p. 195); but how this differs from the\npurest empiricism is more than we are able to understand.\n\nIt is remarkable that Aristotle, after repeatedly speaking of induction\nas an ascent from particulars to generals, when he comes to trace the\nprocess by which we arrive at the most general notions of any, does\nnot admit the possibility of such a movement in one direction only.\nThe universal and the individual are, according to him, combined in\nour most elementary sense-impressions, and the business of scientific\nexperience is to separate them. Starting from a middle point, we work\nup to indivisible predicates on the one hand and down to indivisible\nsubjects on the other, the final apprehension of both extremes being\nthe office, not of science, but of Nous. This theory is equally true\nand acute. The perception of individual facts is just as difficult and\njust as slowly acquired as the conception of ultimate abstractions.\nMoreover, the two processes are carried on _pari passu_, each being\nonly made possible by and through the other. No true notion can be\nframed without a firm grasp of the particulars from which it is\nabstracted; no individual object can be studied without analysing it\ninto a group of common predicates, the idiosyncrasy of which\u2014that is,\ntheir special combination\u2014differentiates it from every other object.\nWhat, however, we wish to remark is the illustration incidentally\nafforded by this striking aper\u00e7u of Aristotle\u2019s analytical method,\nwhich is also the essentially Greek method of thought. We saw that,\nfor our philosopher, syllogism was not the subsumption of a particular\ncase under a general law, but the interpolation of a mean between two\nextremes; we now see that his induction is not the finding of a law\nfor the particular phenomenon, but its analysis into two elements\u2014one\nuniversal and the other individual\u2014a solution of the mean into the\nextremes. And the distinctive originality of his whole system was to\nfix two such extremes for the universe\u2014a self-thinking thought in\nabsolute self-identity at one end of the scale, and an absolutely\nindeterminate matter at the other; by combining which in various\nproportions he then re-constructed the whole intermediate phenomenal\nreality. In studying each particular class of facts, he follows the\nsame method. The genus is marked by some characteristic attribute which\none species\u2014the prerogative species, so to speak\u2014exhibits in its\ngreatest purity, while the others form a graduated scale by variously\ncombining this attribute with its opposite or privation. Hence his\ntheory, since revived by Goethe, that the colours are so many\ndifferent mixtures of light and darkness.\n\nIt has, until lately, been customary to speak as if all that Aristotle\nknew about induction was contained in a few scattered passages where\nit is mentioned under that name in the _Analytics_. This, no doubt,\nis true, if by induction we mean simple generalisation. But if we\nunderstand by it the philosophy of experimental evidence\u2014the analysis\nof those means by which, in the absence of direct observation, we\ndecide between two conflicting hypotheses\u2014then the _Topics_ must be\npronounced as good a discussion on the subject as was compatible with\nhis general theory of knowledge. For he supposes that there are large\nclasses of phenomena, including, among other things, the whole range\nof human life, which, not being bound by any fixed order, lie outside\nthe scope of scientific demonstration, although capable of being\ndetermined with various degrees of probability; and here also what\nhe has in view is not the discovery of laws, but the construction of\ndefinitions. These being a matter of opinion, could always be attacked\nas well as maintained. Thus the constant conflict and balancing of\nopposite forces, which we have learned to associate with the sublunary\nsphere, has its logical representative no less than the kindred ideas\nof uncertainty and vicissitude. And, in connexion with this side of\napplied logic, Aristotle has also to consider the requirements of\nthose who took part in the public debates on disputed questions,\nthen very common among educated Athenians, and frequently turning on\nverbal definitions. Hence, while we find many varieties of reasoning\nsuggested, such as Reasoning by Analogy, Disjunctive Reasoning,\nHypothetical Reasoning (though without a generalised expression for\nall its varieties), and, what is most remarkable, three out of Mill\u2019s\nfour Experimental Methods,[288] we do not find that any interesting\nor useful application is made of them. Even considered as a handbook\nfor debaters, the _Topics_ is not successful. With the practical\nincompetence of a mere naturalist, Aristotle has supplied heads for\narguments in such profusion and such utter carelessness of their\nrelative importance that no memory could sustain the burden, except in\nthe probably rare instances when a lifetime was devoted to their study.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nWe have now concluded our survey of the first great mental antithesis,\nthat between reason on the one hand, and sense and opinion on the\nother. The next antithesis, that between reason and passion, will\noccupy us a much shorter time. With it we pass from theory to practice,\nfrom metaphysics and logic to moral philosophy. But, as we saw in\nthe preceding chapter, Aristotle is not a practical genius; for him\nthe supreme interest of life is still the acquisition of knowledge.\nTheorising activity corresponds to the celestial world, in which there\ncan be neither opposition nor excess; while passion corresponds to the\nsublunary sphere, where order is only preserved by the balancing of\nantithetical forces; and the moderating influence of reason, to the\ncontrol exercised by the higher over the lower system.\n\nThe passions themselves, and the means by which they can be either\nexcited or controlled, are described in Aristotle\u2019s _Rhetoric_\nwith wonderful knowledge of human nature in the abstract, but with\nalmost no reference to the art for whose purposes the information is\nostensibly systematised; while in the _Ethics_ they are studied, so\nto speak, statically, in their condition of permanent equilibration\nor disequilibration; the virtues and vices being represented as so\nmany different aspects of those conditions. It is obvious that such\nan extremely artificial parallelism could not be carried out without\na considerable strain and distortion of the facts involved. The only\nvirtue that can, with truth, be described as a form of moderation is\ntemperance; and even in temperance this is accidental rather than\nessential. Elsewhere Aristotle deduces the extremes from the mean\nrather than the mean from the extremes; and sometimes one of the\nextremes is invented for the occasion. To fit justice, confessedly\nthe most important virtue, into such a scheme, was obviously\nimpracticable without reinterpreting the idea of moderation. Instead of\nan equilibrium between opposing impulses in the same person, we have\nequality in the treatment of different persons; which again resolves\nitself into giving them their own, without any definite determination\nof what their own may be.[289] It cannot even be said that Aristotle\nrepresented either the best ethical thought of his own age, or an\nindispensable stage in the evolution of all thought. The extreme\ninsufficiency of his ethical theory is due to the fancied necessity\nof squaring it with the requirements of his cosmological system. For\nno sooner does he place himself at the popular point of view than he\ndeduces the particular virtues from regard to the welfare of others,\nand treats them all as so many different forms of justice.[290]\n\nAristotle has sometimes been represented as an advocate of free-will\nagainst necessity. But the question had not really been opened in\nhis time. He rejected fatalism; but it had not occurred to him that\ninternal motives might exercise a constraining power over action. Nor\nhas his freedom anything to do with the self-assertion of mind, its\nextrication from the chain of physical antecedents. It is simply the\nelement of arbitrariness and uncertainty supposed to characterise\nthe region of change and opposition, as distinguished from the higher\nregion of undeviating regularity.\n\nIt is only in this higher region that perfect virtue can be realised.\nThe maintenance of a settled balance between rival solicitations, or\nbetween the excess and defect of those impulses which lead us to seek\npleasure and avoid pain, is good indeed, but neither the only nor the\nchief good. The law of moderation does not extend to that supremely\nhappy life which is related to our emotional existence as the aether\nto the terrestrial elements, as soul to body, as reason to sense, as\nscience to opinion. Here it is the steady subordination of means to\nends which imitates the insphering of the heavenly orbs, the hierarchy\nof psychic faculties, and the chain of syllogistic arguments. Of\ntheoretic activity we cannot have too much, and all other activities,\nwhether public or private, should be regarded as so much machinery\nfor ensuring its peaceful prosecution. Wisdom and temperance had been\nabsolutely identified by Socrates; they are as absolutely held apart\nby Aristotle. And what we have had occasion to observe in the other\ndepartments of thought is verified here once more. The method of\nanalysis and opposition, apparently so prudent, proved, in the end,\nunfruitful. Notwithstanding his paradoxes, Socrates was substantially\nright. The moral regeneration of the world was destined to be brought\nabout, not by Dorian discipline, but by free Athenian thought, working\non practical conceptions\u2014by the discovery of new moral truth, or\nrather by the dialectic development of old truth. And, conversely, the\nhighest development of theoretic activity was not attained by isolating\nit in egoistic self-contemplation from the world of human needs, but\nby consecrating it to their service, informing it with their vitality,\nand subjecting it, in common with them, to that law of moderation from\nwhich no energy, however godlike, is exempt.\n\nThe final antithesis of conscious life is that between the individual\nand the state. In this sense, Aristotle\u2019s _Politics_ is the completion\nof his _Ethics_. It is only in a well-ordered community that moral\nhabits can be acquired; and it is only in such a community that the\nbest or intellectual life can be attained, although, properly speaking,\nit is not a social life. Nevertheless, the _Politics_, like every other\nportion of Aristotle\u2019s system, reproduces within itself the elements\nof an independent whole. To understand its internal organisation, we\nmust begin by disregarding Aristotle\u2019s abortive classification (chiefly\nadapted from Plato) of constitutions into three legitimate\u2014Monarchy,\nAristocracy, and Republic; and three illegitimate\u2014Democracy,\nOligarchy, and Tyranny. Aristotle distinguishes them by saying that\nthe legitimate forms are governed with a view to the general good; the\nillegitimate with a view to the interests of particular classes or\npersons. But, in point of fact, as Zeller shows,[291] he cannot keep\nup this distinction; and we shall better understand his true idea by\nsubstituting for it another\u2014that between the intellectual and the\nmaterial state. The object of the one is to secure the highest culture\nfor a ruling caste, who are to abstain from industrial occupations,\nand to be supported by the labour of a dependent population. Such a\ngovernment may be either monarchical or aristocratic; but it must\nnecessarily be in the hands of a few. The object of the other is to\nmaintain a stable equilibrium between the opposing interests of rich\nand poor\u2014two classes practically distinguished as the few and the\nmany. This end is best attained where supreme power belongs to the\nmiddle class. The deviations are represented by oligarchy and tyranny\non the one side, and by extreme democracy on the other. Where such\nconstitutions exist, the best mode of preserving them is to moderate\ntheir characteristic excess by borrowing certain institutions from the\nopposite form of government, or by modifying their own institutions in\na conciliatory sense.\n\nIn the last chapter we dealt at length with the theories of art, and\nespecially of tragic poetry, propounded in Aristotle\u2019s _Poetics_.\nFor the sake of formal completeness, it may be mentioned here that\nthose theories are adapted to the general scheme of his systematic\nphilosophy. The plot or plan of a work answers to the formal or\nrational element in Nature, and this is why Aristotle so immensely\nover-estimates its importance. And, just as in his moral philosophy,\nthe ethical element, represented by character-drawing, is strictly\nsubordinated to it. The centre of equilibrium is, however, not supplied\nby virtue, but by exact imitation of Nature, so that the characters\nmust not deviate very far from mediocrity in the direction either of\nheroism or of wickedness.\n\n\nIX.\n\nNotwithstanding the radical error of Aristotle\u2019s philosophy\u2014the false\nabstraction and isolation of the intellectual from the material sphere\nin Nature and in human life\u2014it may furnish a useful corrective to\nthe much falser philosophy insinuated, if not inculcated, by some\nmoralists of our own age and country. Taken altogether, the teaching\nof these writers seems to be that the industry which addresses itself\nto the satisfaction of our material wants is much more meritorious\nthan the artistic work which gives us direct aesthetic enjoyment, or\nthe literary work which stimulates and gratifies our intellectual\ncravings; while within the artistic sphere fidelity of portraiture is\npreferred to the creation of ideal beauty; and within the intellectual\nsphere, mere observation of facts is set above the theorising power\nby which facts are unified and explained. Some of the school to whom\nwe allude are great enemies of materialism; but teaching like theirs\nis materialism of the worst description. Consistently carried out,\nit would first reduce Europe to the level of China, and then reduce\nthe whole human race to the level of bees or beavers. They forget that\nwhen we were all comfortably clothed, housed, and fed, our true lives\nwould have only just begun. The choice would then remain between some\nnew refinement of animal appetite and the theorising activity which,\naccording to Aristotle, is the absolute end, every other activity\nbeing only a means for its attainment. There is not, indeed, such a\nfundamental distinction as he supposed, for activities of every order\nare connected by a continual reciprocity of services; but this only\namounts to saying that the highest knowledge is a means to every other\nend no less than an end in itself. Aristotle is also fully justified\nin urging the necessity of leisure as a condition of intellectual\nprogress. We may add that it is a leisure which is amply earned,\nfor without it industrial production could not be maintained at its\npresent height. Nor should the same standard of perfection be imposed\non spiritual as on material labour. The latter could not be carried on\nat all unless success, and not failure, were the rule. It is otherwise\nin the ideal sphere. There the proportions are necessarily reversed.\nWe must be content if out of a thousand guesses and trials one should\ncontribute something to the immortal heritage of truth. Yet we may\nhope that this will not always be so, that the great discoveries and\ncreations wrought out through the waste of innumerable lives are not\nonly the expiation of all error and suffering in the past, but are also\nthe pledge of a future when such sacrifices shall no longer be required.\n\nThe two elements of error and achievement are so intimately blended and\nmutually conditioned in the philosophy which we have been reviewing,\nthat to decide on their respective importance is impossible without\nfirst deciding on a still larger question\u2014the value of systematic\nthought as such, and apart from its actual content. For Aristotle\nwas perhaps the greatest master of systematisation that ever lived.\nThe framework and language of science are still, to a great extent,\nwhat he made them; and it remains to be seen whether they will ever\nbe completely remodelled. Yet even this gift has not been an unmixed\nbenefit, for it was long used in the service of false doctrines, and it\nstill induces critics to read into the Aristotelian forms truths which\nthey do not really contain. Let us conclude by observing that of all\nthe ancients, or even of all thinkers before the eighteenth century,\nthere is none to whom the methods and results of modern science could\nso easily be explained. While finding that they reversed his own most\ncherished convictions on every point, he would still be prepared by\nhis logical studies to appreciate the evidence on which they rest,\nand by his ardent love of truth to accept them without reserve. Most\nof all would he welcome our astronomy and our biology with wonder and\ndelight, while viewing the development of modern machinery with much\nmore qualified admiration, and the progress of democracy perhaps with\nsuspicious fear. He who thought that the mind and body of an artisan\nwere alike debased by the exercise of some simple handicraft under\nthe pure bright sky of Greece, what would he have said to the effect\nwrought on human beings by the noisome, grinding, sunless, soulless\ndrudgery of our factories and mines! How profoundly unfitted would\nhe have deemed its victims to influence those political issues with\nwhich the interests of science are every day becoming more vitally\nconnected! Yet slowly, perhaps, and unwillingly, he might be brought\nto perceive that our industry has been the indispensable basis of our\nknowledge, as supplying both the material means and the moral ends\nof its cultivation. He might also learn that there is an even closer\nrelationship between the two: that while the supporters of privilege\nare leagued for the maintenance of superstition, the workers, and those\nwho advocate their claims to political equality, are leagued for its\nrestraint and overthrow. And if he still shrank back from the heat and\nsmoke and turmoil amid which the genius of our age stands, like another\nHeracleitus, in feverish excitement, by the steam-furnace whence its\npowers of revolutionary transmutation are derived, we too might reapply\nthe words of the old Ephesian prophet, bidding him enter boldly, for\nhere also there are gods.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[222] _Phys._, II., viii., p. 198, b, 24.\n\n[223] The late Father Secchi, for example.\n\n[224] _Phys._, II., iv., p. 196, a, 28; _De Coel._, II., xii.\n\n[225] _Phys._, II., viii., p. 199, b, 14.\n\n[226] _Metaph._, I., iii., _sub in._; _Anal. Post._, II., xi., _sub\nin._ Bekker. (cap. x., in the Tauchnitz ed.); _Phys._ II., iii.; _De\nGen. An._, I., i. _sub in._\n\n[227] _Metaph._, VIII., iv., p. 1044, b, 1; _De Gen. An._, I., i., p,\n715, a, 6; _ib._ II., i., 732, a, 4; _Phys._, II., vii., p. 198, a, 24\nff.\n\n[228] _Phys._, II., iii., p. 195, a, 32 ff.; _Metaph._, IX., viii., p.\n1049, b, 24.\n\n[229] That is, according to the traditional view, which, however, will\nhave to be considerably modified if we accept the conclusions embodied\nin Teichm\u00fcller\u2019s _Literarische Fehden_.\n\n[230] _Parmen._, 130, A ff.; _Tim._, 28, A.\n\n[231] As we may infer from a passage in the _Rhetoric_ (II., ii., p.\n1379, a, 35), where partisans of the Idea are said to be exasperated by\nany slight thrown on their favourite doctrine.\n\n[232] Repeated in the _Metaphysics_, I., ix., p. 993, a, 1.\n\n[233] This may seem inconsistent with our former assertion, that Hegel\nholds in German philosophy a place analogous to that held by Aristotle\nin Greek philosophy. Such analogies, however, are always more or\nless incomplete; and, so far as he attributes a self-moving power to\nideas, Hegel is a Platonist rather than an Aristotelian. Similarly,\nas an evolutionist, Mr. Herbert Spencer stands much nearer to early\nGreek thought than to Aristotle, whom, in other respects, he so much\nresembles.\n\n[234] Zeller, _Ph. d. Gr._, II., b, 297 f.\n\n[235] _Metaph._ IV., iii. and viii.\n\n[236] _Ibid._ VI., ii., p. 1026, b, 21.\n\n[237] _Metaph._, VI., iv., p. 1027, b, 29.\n\n[238] _Ibid._, VI., iv.\n\n[239] _Ibid._, VI., ii., _sub in._; VII., i., _sub in._; _Topic._, I.,\nix.\n\n[240] These are \u03c4\u03af, \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd, \u03c0\u03bf\u03c3\u03cc\u03bd, \u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6, \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03ad, and \u03c0\u1ff6\u03c2. \u03a4\u03af is associated\nwith \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2 in the question \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c4\u03af, which has no simple English\nequivalent. Apparently it was suggested to Aristotle by \u03c0\u03bf\u03c3\u03cc\u03bd, how\nmuch? in connexion with which it means, in relation to what standard?\nIf we were told that a thing was double, we should ask, double what?\nAgain, the Greeks had a simply compound question, \u03c4\u03af \u03c0\u03b1\u03b8\u03ce\u03bd, meaning,\nwhat was the matter with him? or, what made him do it? From this\nAristotle extracted \u03c0\u03ac\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd, a wider notion than our passion, meaning\nwhatever is done or happens to anything; which again would suggest\n\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, what it does. Finally, \u03c0\u1ff6\u03c2, taken alone, is too vague a\nquestion for any answer, but must be taken in its simplest compounds\n\u03c0\u1ff6\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03b5\u03af\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd and \u03c0\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd, which give the two rarely-occurring\ncategories \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd and \u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9, for which it is on one occasion\nsubstituted (_Soph. El._, xxii., p. 178, b, 39). \u0394\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u03af does not figure\namong the categories, because it is reserved for the special analysis\nof \u03bf\u1f50\u03c3\u03af\u03b1.\n\n[241] As Grote has shown in his chapter on the Categories.\n\n[242] _Eth. Nic._, I., iv., p. 1096, a, 24, where six are enumerated.\n\n[243] _Metaph._, VII. _passim_.\n\n[244] _Metaph._, VII., vi., p. 1031, b, 18 ff.\n\n[245] Zeller, _Phil. d. Gr._, II., b, 309.\n\n[246] For the general theory of Actuality and Possibility, see\n_Metaph._, VIII.\n\n[247] Grant\u2019s _Aristotle_, p. 176.\n\n[248] _Metaph._, XII., viii., p. 1074, a, 36.\n\n[249] Grant\u2019s _Aristotle_, p. 176.\n\n[250] \u2018The rational attitude of a thinking mind towards the\nsupernatural, whether in natural or revealed religion, is that of\nscepticism, as distinguished from belief on the one hand and atheism on\nthe other.\u2019\u2014Mill\u2019s _Essays on Religion_, p. 242.\n\n[251] Grant\u2019s _Aristotle_, p. 177.\n\n[252] \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4\u2019\n[252] \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1 \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u03bf\u1f50\u03c3\u03af\u03b1 \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u03b5\u03bd\u03af\u00b7 \u03bf\u1f50 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f44\u03bd.\u2014_An. Post._,\nII., vii., p. 92, b, 13.\n\n[253] _Metaph._, XIII., x.\n\n[254] \u2018Non pensar oltre lei [la terra] essere un corpo senza alma e\nvita et anche feccia tra le sustanze corporali.\u2019 Giordano Bruno, _Cena\nde le Ceneri_, p. 130 (_Opere_, ed. Wagner). \u2018Non dovete stimar ... che\nil corpo terreno sia vile e pi\u00f9 degli altri ignobile.\u2019\u2014_De l\u2019Infinito\nUniverso e Mondi_, p. 54 (_ib._).\n\n[255] This conjecture of Empedocles deserves more attention than it has\nas yet received. It illustrates once more the superior insight of the\nearly thinkers as compared with Aristotle.\n\n[256] _De Coelo_, II., 1.\n\n[257] Lewes, quoted by Zeller, p. 524.\n\n[258] So Trendelenburg, Brandis, Kampe, and apparently also Zeller.\nGrote speaks of it rather vaguely as an intelligence pervading the\ncelestial sphere. Schwegler vacillates between the theological and the\npsychological explanation.\n\n[259] The last chapter of the _Posterior Analytics_ sets forth a much\nmore developed and definite theory of the process by which general\nideas are formed. We think that it was composed at a considerably later\ndate than the rest of the work, and probably after the treatise on the\nSoul, to which we should almost suspect an allusion in the word \u03c0\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\n(p. 100, a, 14), did philology permit. The reference can hardly be\nto the first part of the chapter (as is generally supposed); nor has\nthe subject under discussion been touched on in any other part of the\n_Analytics_.\n\n[260] Grote and Kampe think that Aristotle assigns a portion of aether\nas an extended, if not precisely a material, substratum to the rational\nsoul; but the arguments of Zeller (p. 569) seem decisive against this\nview.\n\n[261] _De Gen. An._, II., iii., p. 736, b, 15.\n\n[262] _Outlines of the Philosophy of Aristotle_, p. 45.\n\n[263] The word \u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd, at any rate, does not mean \u2018almost God,\u2019 for\nAristotle applies it to the intelligence of bees, and also to the\nheavenly bodies (_De Gen. An._, III., x., p. 761, a, 5; _De Coelo_,\nII., xii., p. 292, b, 32).\n\n[264] Principal Caird.\n\n[265] _Outlines_, Preface, p. viii.\n\n[266] _Metaph._, VII., xiii., p. 1039, a, 4.\n\n[267] _De An._, III., ii., p. 426, a, 20; 425, b, 25 ff. What Aristotle\nmeans by saying that the \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 of object and sensation is not the same,\nappears from a passage in his tract on Memory (p. 450, b, 20), where he\nemploys the illustration of a portrait and its original, which are the\nsame, although their \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 is different.\n\n[268] _Metaph._, IV., v., _sub fin._\n\n[269] _De An._, III., iv., _sub fin._\n\n[270] _De An._, II., ii., p. 414, a, 20.\n\n[271] _De An._, III., i., p. 425, a, 13.\n\n[272] See Zeller pp. 602-606, where the whole subject is thoroughly\ndiscussed.\n\n[273] _Anal. Pr._, I., i., _sub in._; ii., _sub in._; _Top._, I.,\nviii., Bekker (in the Tauchnitz ed., vi.).\n\n[274] _Anal. Pr._, I., xxiii., 41, a, 11 (in the Tauchnitz ed., xxii.,\n8).\n\n[275] This point is well brought out in F. A. Lange\u2019s _Logische\nUntersuchungen_.\n\n[276] _Anal. Pr._, I., xxxi.; _Anal. Post._, II., v.\n\n[277] _Metaph._, IV., iii., _sub in._\n\n[278] _Anal. Post._, I., x.\n\n[279] \u2018Die Wissenschaft soll die Erscheinungen aus ihren Gr\u00fcnden\nerkl\u00e4ren, welche n\u00e4her in den allgemeinen Ursachen und Gesetzen zu\nsuchen sind\u2019 (Zeller, p. 203). \u2018Induction is the method of proceeding\nfrom particular instances to general laws\u2019 (Wallace, p. 13). \u2018It seems\nto have been his [Aristotle\u2019s] idea that after gathering facts up to a\ncertain point, a flash of intuition would supervene, telling us \u201cThis\nis a law\u201d\u2019 (Grant, p. 68). _Apropos_ of the discussion whence this\nlast passage is extracted, we may observe that Sir A. Grant is quite\nmistaken in saying that Aristotle \u2018omits to provide for verification.\u2019\nAristotle is, on the contrary, most anxious to show that his theories\nagree with all the known facts. See in particular his memorable\ndeclaration (_De Gen. An._, III., x., p. 760, b, 27), that facts are\nmore to be trusted than reasonings.\n\nThe emphasis laid by Aristotle on concepts as distinguished from laws\nis noticed by J. H. v. Kirchmann, in his German translation of the\n_Metaphysics_, p. 13.\n\n[280] _De An._, III., vi., _sub in._, taken together with _Anal.\nPost._, I., vi.\n\n[281] _Anal. Post._, I., xxxiv.; II., ii.\n\n[282] _Anal. Post._, II., xii., p. 95, a, 36.\n\n[283] Wallace\u2019s _Outlines_, p. 14.\n\n[284] _Ibid._, Preface, pp. viii.-ix.\n\n[285] As if Mill wrote exclusively for Oxford tutors, and as if other\nphilosophers had not constantly elucidated their arguments by concrete\nexamples. One does not see why the village matron should be more\ndeserving of contempt than Aristotle\u2019s Thebans and Phocians.\n\n[286] That is, knowledge which has never been actualised.\n\n[287] It is a mistake to translate \u03bd\u03cc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, as the Germans do, by\nAnschauung. The Nous does not intuite ideas, but is converted into and\nconsists of them.\n\n[288] For Analogy, see _Top._, II., x., _sub in._; Disjunction, II.,\nvi., _sub in._; Hypothetical Reasoning, II., x., p. 115, a, 15; Method\nof Differences, II., xi., _sub in._; Method of Residues, VI., xi., _sub\nin._; Concomitant Variations, II., x., p. 114, b, 37; V., viii., _sub\nin._; VI., vii., _sub in._ The Method of Agreement occurs _An. Prior._,\nII., xxvii., _sub fin._; and _An. Post._, II., xiii., p. 97, b, 7.\n\n[289] It may possibly be urged that the fifth book of the _Nicomachean\nEthics_ is of doubtful authenticity. Still the dilemma remains that\nAristotle either omitted the most important of all moral questions from\nhis ethics, or that he treated it in a miserably inadequate manner.\n\n[290] _Eth. Nic._, V., iii.; _Rhet._, I., vi., p. 1362, b, 28; ix., p.\n1366, b, 4.\n\n[291] P. 753.\n\n\n                       END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.\n\n\n                          LONDON: PRINTED BY\n                SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE\n                         AND PARLIAMENT STREET\n\n\n\n\n      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber\u2019s note:\n\nObvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Other\nvariations in hyphenation spelling, accents and punctuation remain\nunchanged.\n\nFootnotes are placed at the end of each chapter.\n\nFootnote 143: Zeller, 678-8. This appears erroneous.","title":"The Greek Philosophers, Vol. 1 (of 2)","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":142697}