I
SOCRATES
A BEGINNER'S HISTORY
OF PHILOSOPHY
BY
HERBEKT ERNEST CUSHMAN, LL.D., Pn.D<
Sometime Professor of Philosophy in Tufts College
Lecturer of Philosophy in Harvard College
Lecturer of Philosophy in Dartmouth College
VOL. I
ANCIENT AND MEDIEVAL PHILOSOPHY
fievised Edition
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
BOSTON • NEW YORK • CHICAGO • DALLAS
SAN FRANCISCO
ZEfje &tber$toe ffress Cambribsc
w^^
7?
COPYRIGHT, IQIO AND IQl8, BY HERBERT ERNEST CUSHMAN
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THE RIGHT TO REPRODUCE
THIS BOOK OR PARTS THEREOF IN ANY FORM
<E&c fttoeraibe $«**
CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS
PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.
TO
3EORGE HERBERT PALMER, Lrrr.D., LL.D<
ALFORD PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY
IN HARVARD UNIVERSITY
WHO HAS INTERPRETED LIFE TO
MANY YOUNG MEN BY MAKING
I
PHILOSOPHY A LIVING
SUBJECT TO THEM
PREFACE
THIS book is intended as a text-book for sketch-
courses in the history of philosophy. It is written for
the student rather than for the teacher. It is a history
of philosophy upon the background of geography and of
literary and political history.
As a text-book for sketch-courses it employs sum
maries, tables, and other generalizations as helps to the
memory. The philosophical teaching is presented as
simply as possible, so as to bring into prominence only
the leading doctrines. My own personal criticism and
interpretation on the one hand, and explanations in
technical language on the other, have been avoided as
far as possible. Sometimes I have had to choose between
interpretation and technicality, in which case the limita
tions of space have determined my choice. Since the
book is intended for the student rather than for the
teacher, it makes the teacher all the more necessary ;
for it puts into the hands of the student an outline and
into the hands of the teacher the class-room time for
inspiring the student with his own interpretations. In
making use of geographical maps, contemporary litera
ture, and political history, this book is merely utilizing
for pedagogical reasons the stock of information with
which the college student is furnished when he begins
the history of philosophy.
A good many years of experience in teaching the
history of philosophy to beginners have convinced me
that students come to the subject with four classes of
vi PREFACE
ideas, with which they can correlate philosophic doc
trines: good geographical knowledge, some historical
and some literary knowledge, and many undefined per
sonal philosophical opinions. Of course, their personal
philosophical opinions form the most important group,
but more as something to be clarified by the civilizing
influence of the subject than as an approach to the sub
ject itself. The only "memory-hooks" upon which the
teacher may expect to hang philosophic doctrines are
the student's ideas of history, literature, and geography.
If the history of philosophy is treated only as a series
of doctrines, the student beginning the subject feels not
only that the land is strange, but that he is a stranger
in it. Besides, to isolate the historical philosophical doc
trines is to give the student a wrong historical perspec
tive, since philosophic thought and contemporary events
are two inseparable aspects of history. Each interprets
the other, and neither can be correctly understood with
out the other. If the history of philosophy is to have
any significance for the beginner, it must be shown to
give a meaning to history.
So far as the materials that form any history of phi
losophy are concerned, I have merely tried to arrange
and organize them with reference to the student and
with reference to the history of which they form an in
tegral part. I am therefore overwhelmingly indebted to
every good authority to whom I have had access, but in
the main I have followed the inspiring direction of the
great Windelband. Many willing friends have read
parts of the manuscript and offered suggestions and
criticisms. I am particularly indebted to Professors C.
P. Parker, Ephraim Emerton, A. O. Norton, and J. H.
Ropes, and Dr. B. A. G. Fuller of Harvard University;
PREFACE vii
to Professor Mary W. Calkins of Wellesley College ; to
Professors C. S. Wade and D. L. Maulsby of Tufts Col
lege ; and to my wife, Abby B. Cushman. However,
for all the faults of the book, which has been many
years in preparation, I am alone responsible.
Instead of lists of books for collateral reading, placed
at the end of chapters or of the book, the student will
find references in the footnotes to the exact pages of
many helpful books. I should like to call the student's
attention to an appendix to the discussion of Plato.
This is a complete selection of passages from Plato
made by the late Professor Jowett for English readers.
This selection Professor Jowett was accustomed to dis
tribute to his Oxford class, of which I was once fortu
nate to be a member.
Philosophical terms have been defined either in the
text or in the footnotes. Such definitions must neces
sarily have as their aim their usefulness to the student,
rather than their completeness.
TUFTS COLLEGE, June, 1910.
PREFACE TO THE REVISED EDITION
THE only change which the reader will find in the
revision of this volume is in the form of presentation
of the philosophies of the earlier cosmologists (Chap-
ter II).
HERBERT E. CUSHMAN.
WEST NEWTON, February, 1918.
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION — THE THREE GENERAL PERIODS
OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY 1
THE COMPARATIVE LENGTHS OF THE THREE GENERAL
PERIODS 1
THE REAL DIFFERENCES OF THE THREE GENERAL PE
RIODS 1
TABLE OF THE SUBDIVISIONS OF THE THREE GENERAL
PERIODS 4
BOOK I. ANCIENT PHILOSOPHY
(625 B. C.-476 A. D.)
CHAPTER I. THE EARLY GREEK IN ANCIENT PHI
LOSOPHY 5
THE DIVISIONS OF ANCIENT PHILOSOPHY 5
THE LITERARY SOURCES OF ANCIENT PHILOSOPHY . . 6
THE ENVIRONMENT OF THE EARLY GREEK 7
1. His Geographical Environment 7
2. His Political Environment 7
THE NATIVE TENDENCIES OF THE EARLY GREEK, AS SEEN
(1) In the Development of his Religion, (2) in his
Reflections upon Physical Events, and (3) in his Inter
est in Human Conduct 9-11
THE THREE PERIODS OF GREEK PHILOSOPHY .... 12
CHAPTER II. THE COSMOLOGICAL PERIOD : THE
PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE 15
THE PERIL IN THE GREEK POLITICAL SITUATION :
PERSIA AND CARTHAGE 15
THE PERIL IN THE NEW RELIGION : THE MYSTERIES
AND PYTHAGORAS 16
CONTENTS
CHARACTERISTICS OF THE COSMOLOGISTS 18
TABLE OF COSMOLOGISTS . . 20
How THE PHILOSOPHICAL QUESTION AROSE .... 20
MAP SHOWING THE ClTIES WHERE THE COSMOLOGISTS
91
LIVED
SUMMARY COMPARISON OF THE MONISTIC PHILOSOPHIES 22
1. THE MILESIAN SCHOOL 24
THE MILESIAN PHILOSOPHY 25
2. XENOPHANES, THE RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHER ... 26
THE PHILOSOPHY OF XENOPHANES 27
3. HERACLEITUS, "THE MISANTHROPIST" AND "THE
OBSCURE " 28
a. Heracleitus' Doctrine of Absolute and Universal
Change 28
b. Fire is the Cosmic Substance 29
c. The Definite Changes of Fire 30
d. The Practical Philosophy of Heracleitus .... 31
4. THE ELEATIC SCHOOL 32
a. PARMENIDES 32
(1) The Cosmic Substance is Being 33
(2) Other Tbiugs than the Cosmic Substance (Being)
have no Real Existence 34
b. ZENO 35
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ZENO 36
THE RESULTS OF THE CONFLICT BETWEEN HERACLEITUS
AND PARMENIDES 37
CHAPTER III. PLURALISM 39
EFFORTS TOWARD RECONCILIATION 39
THE NEW CONCEPTION OF CHANGE OF THE PLURALISTS 40
THE NEW CONCEPTION OF THE UNCHANGING OF THE
PLURALISTS — THE ELEMENT 40
THE INTRODUCTION OF THE CONCEPTION OF THE EFFI
CIENT CAUSE 41
SUMMARY OF SIMILARITIES AND DIFFERENCES IN THE
THEORIES OF THE RECONCILERS . 41
CONTENTS xi
THE PLURALISTIC PHILOSOPHERS : EMPEDOCLES, ANAXA-
GORAS, LEUCIPPUS, AND THE LATER PYTHAGOREANS . 42
THE PHILOSOPHY OF EMPEDOCLES 44
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANAXAGORAS 45
THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE ATOMISTS — LEUCIPPUS AND
THE SCHOOL AT ABDERA 47
THE LATER PYTHAGOREANS 48
1. The Pythagorean Conception of Being .... 49
2. The Pythagorean Dualistic World 51
3. Pythagorean Astronomy 52
HISTORICAL RETROSPECT 53
CHAPTER IV. THE ANTHROPOLOGICAL PERIOD: THE
PHILOSOPHY OP MAN 55
AN HISTORICAL SUMMARY OF THE ANTHROPOLOGICAL
PERIOD 55
THE PERSIAN WARS AND THE RISE OF ATHENS ... 56
THE GREEK ENLIGHTENMENT 58
1. The Impulse for Learning 58
2. The Practical Need of Knowledge 59
3. The Critical Attitude of Mind 61
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE SOPHISTS 64
THE PROMINENT SOPHISTS 67
THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE SOPHISTS 68
1. The Relativism of Protagoras 69
2. The Nihilism of Gorgias 70
THE ETHICS OF THE SOPHISTS. — THE APPLICATION OF
THEIR CRITICAL THEORY TO POLITICAL LIFE ... 71
SUMMARY 73
CHAPTER V. SOCRATES 74
SOCRATES AND ARISTOPHANES 74
THE PERSONALITY AND LIFE OF SOCRATES 75
SOCRATES AND THE SOPHISTS 80
THE UNSYSTEMATIC CHARACTER OF THE SOCRATIC PHI
LOSOPHY 82
THE IDEAL OF SOCRATES , 83
xii CONTENTS
WHAT THE SOCRATIC IDEAL INVOLVES 85
THE Two STEPS OF THE METHOD OF SOCRATES ... 88
SOCRATES AND ATHENS 91
THE LOGICAL EXPEDIENTS OF SOCRATES 92
SOCRATES AND THE LESSER SOCRATICS 93
THE CYNIC SCHOOL 95
THE CYRENAIC SCHOOL 96
CHAPTER VI. THE SYSTEMATIC PERIOD .... 98
THE WANING OF THE GREEK NATIONAL SPIRIT ... 98
THE PLACE OF THE THREE SYSTEMATIC PHILOSOPHERS
IN GREEK HISTORY 98
THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLE OF THE SYSTEMATIC
PERIOD 100
A SUMMARY OF GREEK PHILOSOPHY 102
GREEK PHILOSOPHY (OBJECTIVE) 103
DEMOCRITUS AND PLATO — THEIR SIMILARITIES AND DIF
FERENCES 104
THE LIFE OF DEMOCRITUS 106
THE COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE AIM OF DEMOCRI
TUS 108
THE ENRICHED PHYSICS OF DEMOCRITUS — HYLOZOISM
BECOMES MATERIALISM 109
THE MATERIALISTIC PSYCHOLOGY OF DEMOCRITUS . . Ill
DEMOCRITUS' THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE — THE WORLD
OF TWOFOLD REALITY 114
THE ETHICAL THEORY OF DEMOCRITUS 116
CHAPTER VII. PLATO 119
ABDERA AND ATHENS 119
THE DIFFICULTIES IN UNDERSTANDING THE TEACHING
OF PLATO 120
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF PLATO 121
1. Plato's Student Life 121
2. Plato as Traveler 122
3. Plato as Teacher of the Academy 124
CONCERNING THE DIALOGUES OF PLATO . . , . 126
CONTENTS liii
THE FACTORS IN THE CONSTRUCTION OF PLATO'S DOC
TRINE 128
1. His Inherited Tendencies 128
2. His Philosophical Sources 130
THE DIVISIONS OF PLATO'S PHILOSOPHY 131
SUMMARY OF PLATO'S DOCTRINE 132
THE FORMATION OF PLATO'S METAPHYSICS 132
THE DEVELOPMENT OF PLATO'S METAPHYSICS — THE
DEVELOPMENT OF PLATO'S IDEAS IN THE Two DRAFTS 136
BRIEF COMPARISON OF THE Two DRAFTS OF THE
IDEAS 137
COMPARISON OF THE Two DRAFTS OF IDEAS IN MORE
DETAIL 137
1. The Number of Ideas in the Earlier and Later
Drafts compared 137
2. The Relation of the Ideas and the World of Nature
in the Two Drafts compared 138
3. The Relation among the Ideas in the Two Drafts
compared 140
PLATO'S CONCEPTION OF GOD 141
PLATO'S CONCEPTION OF PHYSICAL NATURE .... 142
PLATO'S CONCEPTION OF MAN 144
PLATO'S DOCTRINE OF IMMORTALITY 146
1. The Immortality of Pre-Existence 146
2. The Immortality of Post-Existence 149
THE Two TENDENCIES IN PLATO 150
PLATONIC LOVE 151
PLATO'S THEORY OF ETHICS 153
1. Development of Plato's Theory of the Good . . . 153
2. The Four Cardinal Virtues 154
3. Plato's Theory of Political Society 155
APPENDIX — JOWETT'S SELECTION OF PASSAGES FROM
PLATO FOR ENGLISH READERS 15&
CHAPTER VIII. ARISTOTLE 166
ARISTOTLE IN THE ACADEMY AND LYCEUM 166
BIOGRAPHY OF ARISTOTLE .... . 168
xiv CONTENTS
BRIEF CHRONOLOGICAL SKETCH OF ARISTOTLE'S LIFE . 168
ARISTOTLE'S BIOGRAPHY IN DETAIL 169
1. First Period — Early Influences 169
2. Second Period — Traveler and Collector . . . .171
3. Third Period — Administrator of the Lyceum . .172
THE WRITINGS OF ARISTOTLE 173
1. The Popular Writings, published by Aristotle him
self 174
2. The Compilations . 175
3. The Didactic Writings 175
ARISTOTLE'S STARTING-POINT 176
THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLE IN ARISTOTLE'S PHILO
SOPHY . . 177
ARISTOTLE'S LOGIC 180
ARISTOTLE'S METAPHYSICS „ . . 185
1. Development is Purposeful 185
2. Aristotle's Two Different Conceptions of Pur
pose 187
3. Aristotle's Conception of God 190
4. Aristotle's Conception of Matter 191
5. Aristotle's Conception of Nature 192
THE MECHANICAL SERIES, — ARISTOTLE'S THEORY OF
PHYSICS 194
THE TELEOLOGICAL SERIES : THE QUALITATIVE CHANGES
OF PHENOMENA 196
1. The Psychology of Aristotle 196
2. The Ethics of Aristotle 199
(a) The Practical Virtues 200
(6) The Dianoetic Virtues 201
THE POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY OF ARISTOTLE 202
CHAPTER IX. THE HELLENIC-ROMAN PERIOD . . 204
ITS TIME LENGTH 204
THE FALL OF THE GREEK NATION AND THE PERSIST
ENCE OF ITS CIVILIZATION 204
MAP OF THE EMPIRE OF ALEXANDER, SHOWING THE
EXTENSION OF HELLENISM . . 205
CONTENTS XT
THE Two PARTS OF THE HELLENIC-ROMAN PERIOD . 208
1. The Ethical Period 208
2. The Religious Period 208
THE UNDERCURRENT OF SKEPTICISM IN THE HELLENIC-
ROMAN PERIOD 209
THE FUNDAMENTAL PROBLEM OF THE HELLENIC-ROMAN
PERIOD 211
THE CENTRES OF HELLENISM 213
1. Athens 213
2. Alexandria 215
GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS OF THE ETHICAL PERIOD . 215
1. The Abandonment of Metaphysical Speculation . 216
2. The Growth of Science 216
3. Ethics became the Central Interest 217
THE SCHOOLS 218
MAP OF ATHENS, SHOWING THE LOCATION OF THE FOUR
SCHOOLS 219
THE OLD SCHOOLS — THE ACADEMY AND THE LY
CEUM 220
1. The Academy 220
2. The Lyceum 221
THE NEW SCHOOLS — THE EPICUREANS AND THE STOICS 222
A SUMMARY OF THE AGREEMENTS AND DIFFERENCES
OF THE STOICS AND EPICUREANS 225
CHAPTER X. EPICUREANISM 227
THE LIFE OF EPICURUS 227
THE EPICUREANS 228
SOME TYPES OF HEDONISM,— ARISTIPPUS, EPICURUS, AND
ROUSSEAU . 228
THE EPICUREAN IDEAL 230
THE PLACE OF VIRTUE IN EPICUREANISM 233
THE EPICUREAN WISE MAN 234
THE EPICUREAN WISE MAN IN SOCIETY 235
THE GREAT OBSTACLES TO HAPPINESS 236
EPICURUS' CONCEPTION OF THE PHYSICAL WORLD. —
QUALIFIED ATOMISM , . 238
xvi CONTENTS
CHAPTER XI. STOICISM . „ . 241
THE POSITION OF STOICISM IN ANTIQUITY < , . , , . 241
THE THREE PERIODS OF STOICISM ........ 242
1. Period of Formulation of the Doctrine. . r . .242
2. Period of Modified Stoicism . , < 242
3. Period of Roman Stoicism ... e -••.-. 243
THE STOIC LEADERS . - . 243
THE STOIC WRITINGS . . , 246
THE STOICS AND CYNICS -. * . . « 246
THE Two PROMINENT STOIC CONCEPTIONS . « , . . 247
THE CONCEPTION OF PERSONALITY . . , . . * •> 248
1. The Stoic Psychology 248
2. The Highest Good «... 250
THE CONCEPTION OF NATURE. ... , . . 251
1. Nature is an All-pervading World-Being . . . 253
2. Nature is an All-compelling Law 253
3. Nature is Matter 254
THE CONCEPTIONS OF NATURE AND PERSONALITY SUP
PLEMENT EACH OTHER 256
THE STOIC AND SOCIETY 257
DUTY AND RESPONSIBILITY 259
THE PROBLEM OF EVIL AND THE PROBLEM OF FREE
DOM 260
THE MODIFICATIONS OF THE STOIC DOCTRINE AFTER
THE FIRST PERIOD 261
CHAPTER XII. SKEPTICISM AND ECLECTICISM . . 264
THE APPEARANCES OF PHILOSOPHIC SKEPTICISM . . . 264
THE THREE PHASES OF PHILOSOPHIC SKEPTICISM . . 265
1. The First Phase of Philosophic Skepticism is called
Pyrrhonism 265
2. The Second Period of Philosophic Skepticism —
The Skepticism of the Academy 266
3. The Third Period of Philosophic Skepticism —
Sensationalistic Skepticism 268
THE LAST CENTURY AND A HALF OF THE ETHICAL
PERIOD. ECLECTICISM . 269
CONTENTS
xvu
CHAPTER XIII. THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD .... 273
THE Two CAUSES OF THE RISE OF RELIGIOUS FEEL
ING , 273
THE NEED OF SPIRITUAL AUTHORITY 275
THE RISE OF THE CONCEPTION OF SPIRITUALITY . . . 277
THE REVIVAL OF PLATONISM 279
THE DIVISIONS OF THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD 280
THE HELLENIC RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHIES 282
THE INTRODUCTORY PERIOD OF HELLENIC RELIGIOUS
PHILOSOPHY. THE TURNING TO THE PAST FOR SPIRIT
UAL AUTHORITY 282
1. The Greek-Jewish Philosophy of Philo .... 282
2. Neo-Pythagoreanism 285
THE DEVELOPMENT PERIOD OF HELLENIC RELIGIOUS
PHILOSOPHY. THE TURNING TO THE PRESENT FOR
SPIRITUAL AUTHORITY. PLATONISM AND NEO-PLATO
NISM 287
NEO-PLATONISM AND THE Two INTRODUCTORY PHILO
SOPHIES t 288
NEO-PLATONISM AND CHRISTIANITY 288
THE PERIODS OF NEO-PLATONISM 290
THE ALEXANDRIAN SCHOOL. THE SCIENTIFIC THEORY
OF NEO-PLATONISM. THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF
PLOTINUS 2&
THE GENERAL CHARACTER OF THE TEACHING OF PLO
TINUS ^ 291
THE MYSTIC GOD 292
1. The Supra-Consciousness of God 292
2. The Conception of Dynamic Pantheism .... 293
THE Two PROBLEMS OF PLOTINUS 293
THE WORLD OF EMANATIONS. — THE METAPHYSICAL
PROBLEM OF PLOTINUS 294
THE SPIRIT ^ 294
THE SOUL 295
MATTER .*295
THE RETURN OF THE SOUL TO GOD. — THE ETHICAL
PROBLEM OF PLOTINUS . 297
CONTENTS
THE SYRIAN SCHOOL. —THE SYSTEMATIZING OF POLY
THEISMS. — JAMBLICHUS 298
THE ATHENIAN SCHOOL. — RECAPITULATION. — PROCLUS 299
CHAPTER XIV. PATRISTICS. — THE HELLENIZING
OF THE GOSPEL 302
THE EARLY SITUATION OF CHRISTIANITY 302
THE PHILOSOPHIES INFLUENCING CHRISTIAN THOUGHT . 305
THE PERIODS OF EARLY CHRISTIANITY 306
THE APOLOGISTS 307
THE GNOSTICS 310
THE REACTION AGAINST GNOSTICISM. — THE OLD CATH
OLIC THEOLOGIANS 312
ORIGEN AND THE SCHOOL OF CATECHISTS 314
BOOK II. THE MIDDLE AGES
(476-1453)
CHAPTER XV. CHARACTERISTICS AND CONDITIONS
OF THE MIDDLE AGES 319
COMPARISON OF THE HELLENIC-ROMAN PERIOD AND
THE MIDDLE AGES 319
THE MEDIEVAL MAN 320
How THE UNIVERSE APPEARED TO THE MEDIAEVAL
MAN 322
MAPS OF THE PTOLEMAIC COSMOGRAPHY .... 323, 325
THE MEDIEVAL MAN AT SCHOOL 325
A MEDIAEVAL LIBRARY 326
1. Books most commonly read 327
2. Books that the scholars might use 327
3. The Books most influential philosophically upon
the time 328
THE THREE PERIODS OF THE MIDDLE AGES .... 328
SUMMARY OF THE POLITICAL AND EDUCATIONAL WORLDS
OF THE MEDIEVAL MAN. . 330
CONTENTS xix
CHAPTER XVI. THE EARLY PERIOD OF THE MID-
DLE AGES 334
THE GENERAL CHARACTER OF THE EARLY PERIOD . . 334
AN EARLY MEDIEVAL GEOGRAPHICAL MAP .... 335
I^THE HISTORICAL POSITION OF AUGUSTINE 335
THE SECULAR SCIENCE 339
^JHE LIFE OF AUGUSTINE 339
C-THE Two ELEMENTS IN AUGUSTINE'S TEACHING . . . 340
THE NEO-PLATONIC ELEMENT : THE INNER CERTAINTIES
OF CONSCIOUSNESS 341
v THE AUTHORITY OF THE CHURCH ACCORDING TO AUGUS
TINE 345
THE DARK AGES 347
THE REVIVAL OF CHARLEMAGNE 349
JOHN SCOTUS ERIGENA : LIFE AND TEACHING . . . 350
THE GREEK PRINCIPLE WHICH ERIGENA FORMULATED
FOR THE MIDDLE AGES 352
THE LAST CENTURY OF THE EARLY PERIOD .... 353
CHAPTER XVII. THE TRANSITIONAL PERIOD . . 354
THE GENERAL CHARACTER OF THE TRANSITIONAL PERIOD 354
WHAT is SCHOLASTICISM ? 355
ANSELM : LIFE AND POSITION IN MEDIAEVAL PHILOSOPHY 359
ANSELM'S ARGUMENTS FOR THE EXISTENCE OF GOD . 361
ROSCELLINUS : LIFE AND TEACHING 361
STORM AND STRESS 362
THE LIFE OF ABELARD 363
ABELARD'S CONCEPTUALISM. UNIVERSALS EXIST IN THE
PARTICULARS 364
ABELARD'S RATIONALISM. — THE RELATION BETWEEN
REASON AND DOGMA 36£
CHAPTER XVIII. THE PERIOD OF CLASSIC SCHO
LASTICISM 368
THE GENERAL CHARACTER OF THIS LAST PERIOD . . 368
THE Two CIVILIZATIONS . . 369
xx CONTENTS
MAP SHOWING THE GROWTH OF MOHAMMEDAN CIVIL
IZATION IN THE MIDDLE AGES 370
THE FIRST CONTACT OF THE Two CIVILIZATIONS . . 372
THE CONFLICT BETWEEN THE Two CIVILIZATIONS. —
THE CRUSADES 374
THE REVIVAL OF LEARNING 375
DIAGRAM OF DANTE'S POETIC CONCEPTION OF THE UNI
VERSE 376
THE STRENGTH AND BURDEN OF ARISTOTLE TO THE
CHURCH 378
1. The Strength of Aristotle to the Church .... 378
2. The Burden of Aristotle to the Church . . . .379
THE PREDECESSORS OF AQUINAS 379
THE LIFE OF THOMAS AQUINAS. — THE FOUNDER OF
THE DOMINICAN TRADITION 380
THE CENTRAL PRINCIPLE OF THOMAS'S DOCTRINE —
THE TWOFOLD TRUTH 381
THE PROBLEM OF INDIVIDUALITY — THE RELATION OF
PARTICULARS AND UNIVERSALS 383
THE PRIMACY OF THE WILL OR THE INTELLECT . . . 385
DUNS SCOTUS, THE FOUNDER OF THE FRANCISCAN TRA
DITION — LIFE AND PHILOSOPHICAL POSITION . . . 386
DUNS SCOTUS'S CONCEPTION OF THE TWOFOLD TRUTH.
— THE SEPARATION OF SCIENCE AND RELIGION . . 387
THE INSCRUTABLE WILL OF GOD 388
THE PROBLEM OF INDIVIDUALITY 389
AFTER DUNS SCOTUS 390
WILLIAM OF OCKAM : LIFE AND TEACHING 391
AFTER OCKAM 393
INDEX , . 395
ILLUSTRATIONS
SOCRATES Frontispiece
MAP SHOWING WHERE THE COSMOLOGISTS LIVED. ... 21
THE EMPIRE OF ALEXANDER 205
MAP OF ATHENS SHOWING THE LOCATION OF THE FOUR
SCHOOLS 219
PTOLEMAIC COSMOGRAPHY SHOWING THE DIVISION OF THE
UNIVERSE INTO SPHERES 323
PTOLEMAIC COSMOGRAPHY SHOWING THE EPICYCLIC MOVE
MENTS OF THE PLANETS 325
MEDIAEVAL GEOGRAPHY. THE COSMAS MAP, A.D. 547 . 335
GROWTH OF MOHAMMEDANISM DURING THE MIDDLE AGES,
SHOWING ITS CONTACT WITH CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION 370
DIAGRAM OF DANTE'S POETIC CONCEPTION OF THE UNI
VERSE . . . 37(?
A BEGINNER'S HISTORY OF
PHILOSOPHY
INTRODUCTION
THE THREE GENERAL PERIODS OF THE HISTORY
OF PHILOSOPHY
The Comparative Lengths of the Three General
Periods:
Ancient Philosophy, 625 B. C.-476 A. D.
Medieval Philosophy, 476 A. D.-1453 A. D.
Modern Philosophy, 1453 A. D.-the present time.
These are the three general periods into which the
history of philosophy naturally falls. The two dates that
form the dividing lines between these three periods are
476, the fall of old Rome, and 1453, the fall of new
Rome (Constantinople). From this it will be seen that
1000 years of mediaeval life lie between antiquity on
the one side and 450 years of modern times on the
other. Whatever value may be put upon the respective
intellectual products of these three periods, it is impor
tant to note the great difference in their time-lengths.
It is 2500 years since philosophical reflection began in
Europe. Only 450 of these years belong to modern
times. In other words, after the European man grew to
reflective manhood, two fifths of his life belong to what
is known as ancient civilization, two fifths to mediaeval,
and only one fifth to modern civilization.
The Real Differences of the Three General Periods.
The differences between these three periods of the re-
INTRODUCTION
flective life of the European have been very real. They
are not to be explained by merely political shift ings
or economic changes ; nor are they fully expressed as
differences in literary or artistic productions. Their
differences lie deeper, for they are differences of mental
attitude. The history of philosophy is more profound,
more difficult, and more human than any other history,
because it is the record of human points of view. A
good deal of sympathetic appreciation is demanded if
the student takes on the attitude of mind of ancient and
mediaeval times. One cannot expect to be possessed of
such appreciation until one has traversed the history
of thought through its entire length.
The history of philosophy is an organic development
from an objective to a subjective view of life, with a
traditional middle period in which subjective and
objective mingle. Ancient thought is properly called
ubjectire, the modiieval traditional, the modern subject
ive. Can we briefly suggest what these abstract terms
mean ? By the objectivity of ancient thought is meant
that the ancient~in making nis reflections upon life,
starts from the universe as a whole. From this outer
point of view he tries to see the interconnections be
tween things. Nature is reality ; men and gods are a
part of nature. Man's mental processes even are a part
of the totality of things. Even ethically man is not ar
independent individual, but the member of a state,
When the ancient came to make distinctions between
mind and matter, he did not think of man as the knower
in antithesis to matter as the object known, but he
thought of mind and matter as parts of one cosmos.
The antithesis in ancient thought is rather between
appearances and essence, between non-realities and
INTRODUCTION 3
realities with differing emphasis. The ancient attempts
speculatively to reconstruct his world, but it is always
from the point of view of the world.
By the traditionalism of mediaeval thought is meant
that men are controlled in their thinking by a set of
authoritative doctrines from the past. In the Middle
Ages, as the mediaeval period is called, the independent
thinking of antiquity had ceased. Men reflected and re
flected deeply, but they were constrained by a set of
religious traditions. Authority was placed above them
and censored their thinking. The objective Christian
church and its authority took the place of the object
ive Greek cosmos. That church had certain infallible
dogma, and thinking was allowed only in so far as it
clarified dogma.
On the other hand, when we say that modern thought
is subjective, we refer to an entire change in the centre
of intellectual gravity. The starting-point is not the
world, but the individual. The universe is set over
against mind (dualism), or is the creation of mind
(idealism). In any case the modern man looks upon
the universe as his servant, the standard of truth to be
found in himself and not in something external. The
subject as knower is now placed in antithesis to the ob
ject as known, and the object is not independent of the
human thinking process. Reality is man rather than the
cosmos. The political state is justifiable so long as it
enforces the rights of the individual ; religious authority
is the expression of the individual conscience ; physical
nature 'js a human interpretation. *
* Read Knight, Life and Teaching of Hume, pp. 102 f.
(Black wood Series) ; Falckenberg, Hist. Modern Phil., p.
10 ; Zeller, Pre-Socratic Phil, vol. i, pp. 161 f .
INTRODUCTION
Plato, Dante, and Goethe are good representatives of
these three different historical periods of the human
mind. How can they be understood without a philosophi
cal appreciation of the periods in which they lived ?
Table of the Subdivisions of the Three General
Periods of Philosophy
Cosmological, 625-480 (to
Persian Wars).
Anthropological, 480-399 (to
death of Socrates).
Systematic, 399-322 (to death
of Aristotle).
1. Ancient
625 B. c.
-476 A. D.
Greek, 625-
322 B. c. (to
death of
Aristotle).
Hellenic-Ro
man 322 B.C.
-476 A. D.
(from death
of Aristotle
to fall of old
Rome).
Ethical, 322 B. c.-l A. D. (to
beginning of Christian era).
Religious, 100 B. C.-476 A. D.
2. Mediaeval
476-1453
Early Mediaeval, 476-1000 (from the fall
of old Rome to the beginnings of modern
Europe).
Transitional Mediaeval (1000-1200), (from
beginnings of modern Europe to Crusades).
Classic Medieval, 1200-1453 (from the
Crusades to the fall of new Rome or Con
stantinople).
3. Modern
1453-mod-
ern times
Renaissance,
1453-1690
(to Locke's
Essay and
the English
Revolution) .
Humanistic, 1453-1600.
Natural Science, 1600-1690.
Enlightenment, 1690-1781 (from Locke's
Essay to Kant's Critique) .
German Idealism, 1781-1831 (from Kant'8
Critique to the death of Hegel).
Evolution, 1820 to the present time.
BOOK I
ANCIENT PHILOSOPHY (625 B. C.-476 A. D.)
CHAPTER I
THE EARLY GREEK IN ANCIENT PHILOSOPHY
The Divisions of Ancient Philosophy. The history
of ancient philosophy falls naturally into two large di
visions : pure Greek philosophy and Hellenic-Roman
philosophy (or Greek philosophy in the Roman world).
The date, 322 B. c., the death of Aristotle, which marks
the line between these two periods, is one of the mile
stones of history. Alexander the Great had died in
323 B. c. The coincidence of the deaths of Aristotle
and Alexander not only suggests their intimate rela
tions as teacher and pupil during their lives, but it
throws into contrast Greek civilization before and after
them. Before Aristotle and Alexander culture was the
product entirely of the pure Greek spirit ; after them
ancient culture was the complex product of many factors
— of Greek and Roman civilizations, and many Orien
tal religions, including Christianity. Before Aristotle
and Alexander, ancient culture was characterized by a
love of knowledge for its own sake, by freedom from
ulterior ends either of service or of use ; after these
great makers of history, culture became attenuated to
work in the special sciences and enslaved to practical
questions. Before Aristotle and Alexander, the Greek
city-states had arisen to political power ; after Aristotle
6 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
and Alexander, Greece declined politically and was
absorbed into the Koman empire.
The Literary Sources of Ancient Philosophy.* The lit
erary sources of ancient philosophy are three : (1) the
primary sources, or original writings ; (2) the secondary
sources, or reports of the original writers obtained indi
rectly, or through other writers ; (3) the interpreta
tions of reliable modern historians of philosophy. The
specialist in philosophy will, of course, go to the first
two sources for his information. Other students will find
many accurate modern histories of ancient philosophy.
The student should have at hand the translations of the
histories of Zeller, Windelband, Weber, Eucken, Ueber-
weg ; those of the Englishmen, Burnet and Fairbanks ;
of the Americans, Kogers and Turner.
" The writings of the early Greek philosophers of the
pre-Socratic period exist now only in fragments. The
complete works of Plato are still extant ; so also are the
most important works of Aristotle, and certain others
which belong to the Stoic, Epicurean, Skeptic, and neo-
Platonic schools. We possess the principal works of
most of the philosophers of the Christian period in suf
ficient completeness." 1 The secondary sources include
quotations and comments upon earlier philosophers
found in the writings of Plato, Aristotle, the Stoics,
Skeptics, neo-Platonists, and the so-called doxographers.
Doxography — the commentating upon and collating of
the works of former times — developed enormously in
Alexandria, Pergamos, and Rhodes just after Aristotle,
* Read Fairbanks, First Philosophers of Greece, pp. 263
ff., especially the re'sume'.
1 Ueberweg, Hist, of Phil., vol. i, p. 7.
EARLY GREEK IN ANCIENT PHILOSOPHY I
The founder of this work was Theophrastus, who was a
disciple of Aristotle and his successor in the Lyceum.
Among the important doxographers were Plutarch, Sto-
baeus, and Aetios.
The Environment of the Early Greek. The biolo
gist seeks to explain a living creature by its previous
environment and inherited instincts. So if we know the
environment and inherited instincts of the early Greek,
we shall be able to understand better firstly, why Euro
pean philosophy began with the Greeks and not with
some other people ; and secondly, why Greek philosophy
took certain lines that it did take.
(1). His Geographical Environment. The Greece
into which philosophy was born was much larger than
the Greece of to-day. Ancient Greece consisted of all
the coasts and islands which were washed by the Medi
terranean Sea from Asia Minor to Sicily and southern
Italy, and from Gyrene to Thrace. The motherland,
the peninsula of Greece, at first played an insignificant
role. The leadership was in the hands of the Ionian s,
who had colonized the coasts of Asia Minor. In the
seventh century B. C., when the first Greek philosophy
appears, these lonians commanded the world's commerce
among the three continents. Over the coasts of the en
tire Mediterranean they had extended their trade and
established their colonies. Miletus became the wealth
iest of these colonies and the cradle of Greek science.
Its wealth afforded leisure to its people and therefore
the opportunity for reflection.
(2). His Political Environment. An understand
ing of the Greek political world, in which its first philo
sophy appeared, requires an historical explanation of
its rise. It takes us back four centuries to the age of
8 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
the Epic (1000-750 B. c.). During more than two
centuries of the age of the Epic two changes occurred
which were to influence future Greek civilization : (1)
The oligarchy which had supplanted the ancient patri
archal monarchy became firmly established ; and (2)
the Epic was formed. The importance of the Epic of
Homer lies not so much in the fact that a great poem
was constructed, as that it was the formulation of the
Greek religion, the Greek aBsthetic polytheism. Its
writing indicates that the earlier unorganized, primitive,
and savage forms of religion had given way, among
the ruling classes at least, to an a3sthetic polytheism,
which in a general way was fixed by the Epic itself.
The period of more than a century, from 750 to 625
B. c., lying between the age of the Epic and Greek
philosophy, may be called an age of political disturb
ances. The oligarchy had become oppressive to the rich
and poor alike. There had grown up in Greece, espe
cially in the colonies, a class of citizens who had be
come wealthy through commerce. The result of the
misgovernment by the oligarchy was that (1) migra
tions took place, and (2) many revolutions occurred.
This was particularly true of the colonies where the
proletariat was powerful and the cities were full of ad
venturers. Plutocracy was at war with aristocracy, and
this was the opportunity for bold men. These political
troubles took form from 650 B. C. on, and the history
of the Greek cities consists of the endeavor to establish
popular government. About the time of the first Greek
philosophers there arose here and there from the ruins
of these civil struggles the so-called tyrants, of whom
Thrasybulus at Miletus, Pittacus at Lesbos, Periander
at Corinth, and Pisistratus at Athens are examples.
EARLY GREEK IN ANCIENT PHILOSOPHY 9
The courts of these tyrants became centres of intellect
ual life. They patronized poets, writers, and artists.
The universalism of the Epic had vanished, and in its
place came the individualism of the lyric and the satire.
In many places the aristocrat went into gloomy retire
ment, and often cultivated poetry, science, and philo
sophy.
The Native Tendencies of the Early Greek. Why
were the Greeks the first philosophers of Europe?
Their geographical surroundings of sea and land had
something to do with it. The passionate party strife
between the old, ruling familes of nobles and the newly
rich trading-class, which took place during the seventh
century B. c., no doubt cultivated an early independence
of opinion and strength of personality. But, after all,
genius was in the blood of the race, and who can say
that the true cause was not in the mixing of the blood
of the virile Aryan invaders with that of the aborigi
nal inhabitants ? Whatever may be the answer to that
question, the Greek race in the seventh century B. c. had
an extraordinary curiosity about the world of nature. It
loved the concrete fact as no other race of the time
loved it, and it loved to give a clear and articulate ex
pression to the concrete fact that it saw. It had an ar
tistic nature that was hostile to all confusion. Let us
point out three ways in which the Greek was even in
this early time organizing his experiences, reflecting
upon the workings of social and nature forces, and
thus preparing the way for consideration of the more
ultimate questions of philosophy.
(1) This can be seen first in the development of
his religion. The first step in the organization of his
religion we have already seen, for the Homeric epic
10 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
was the expression of a well-defined, poetic, and aesthetic
polytheism developed out of a primitive savage natural
ism. The Greek's sense of measure was shown in the
way both gods and men were placed as a part of the
world of nature. He could accomplish this the more
freely because he had no hierarchy of priests and no
dogma of belief to cramp his imagination. The Greek
priests did not penetrate into the private life nor teach
religion. " They were not theologians but sacristans
and liturgical functionaries." In the fifty years before
philosophy appeared, this tendency toward scientific
religious organizing showed the beginning of another
advance. Monistic belief, of which signs may be found
even in the earlier Greek writings, came to the surface.
This monism 1 was expressed or implied by the Gnomic
poets, " wise poets," so called, because they made sen
tentious utterances upon the principles of morality.
(2) The early genius of the Greek is shown in his
reflections upon physical events. The Greek had been
accumulating for a long time many kinds of informa
tion, but, what is more important, he had been reflect
ing upon this information. The Ionian was a sea-faring
man. He had had much practical experience and had
made many true observations about the things he had
seen. In his travels he had come in contact with the
Orientals and the Egyptians, and although his scien
tific conceptions were probably in the main his own, his
1 Monism^ is the belief that reality is a oneness without any necessary
implication as to the character of that oneness. Monatheism is a kind
of monism, in which some definite character is ascribed tcTtlie oneness,
like the active principle in the world or the cause of the world. Pan
theism, on the other hand, is a kind of monism in which the emphasis
is upon the all-inclusive character of reality. In pantheism God and
nature ay two inseparable aspects of reality.
EARLY GREEK IN ANCIENT PHILOSOPHY 11
knowledge was undoubtedly increased by his travels.
In the seventh century B. c., the Greeks had a respect
able body of physical science. It was mostly inorganic
science, however, — astronomy, geography, and meteor
ology. The early Greek knowledge of organic pheno
mena was very meagre, as, for example, medical and
physiological knowledge. They also showed little genu
ine research in the field of mathematics, although they
had picked up mathematical information here and
there. Many of the first philosophers were scientists.
(3) Not only did the Greek early bring a religious
system out of the chaos of his naturalism, not only did
he early throw his physical information into scientific
form ; but also early did he show an especial interest
in human conduct. This can be seen first in Homer
(800 B. C.), in a more developed form in Hesiod
(700 B. c.), and with still deeper reflection in the
Gnomic poets. Although the Iliad is a descriptive
poem, it abounds in ethical observations. For example,
Hector says, " The best omen is to fight for one's
country " ; and Nestor in council says, " A wretch
without the tie of kin, a lawless man without a home,
is he who delights in civil strife." The poem by He
siod ( Works and Days) is intended to teach morals.
It is distinctly a didactic poem. Hesiod stands at the
beginning of a long line of Greek ethical teachers. His
moral observations are, however, incoherently expressed.
They are not wide generalizations, but are only com
ments upon single experiences. The Gnomic poets ap
peared at the end of the seventh century B. c., as the
moral reformers in the age of political disturbances.
This period was called by the Greeks the age of the
Seven Wise Men ; for among the men who were then
12 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
exhorting the age to come back to its senses, tradition
early selected seven of the most notable.1 The spirit of
Gnomic poetry was prominent in their reported sayings.
They were fearful because of the common disregard of
the conventions of the previous age, and because of the
present excesses. Their watchword was " moderation,"
and they were ever repeating " nothing too much." By
apothegm, riddle, epigram, and catchwords they tried to
reform society. The names of all seven are not certain,
and only four of them are known, — Thales, Solon, Pit-
tacus, and Bias. Their ethical reflections are not con
cerned, as in Hesiod, with the home, the village, and
the rules of convention, but with the individual's gen
eral relation to society. Their knowledge of ethical
matters is remarkable for their time. Some of their
sayings are as follows : —
" No man is happy ; all are full of trouble." " Each
thinks to do the right, yet no one knows what will be
the result of his doings, and no one can escape his des
tiny." " The people by their own injustice destroy the
city, which the gods would have protected." "As op
posed to these evils the first necessity is law and order
for the state, contentment and moderation for the
individual." " Not wealth, but moderation, is the high
est good." " Superfluity of possessions begets self-
exaltation."
The Three Periods of Greek Philosophy, 625-322
B. c. These are
1. The Cosmological Period, 625-480 B. c.
2. The Anthropological Period, 480-399 B. c.
3. The Systematic Period, 399-322 B. c.
1 Bury, Hist, of Greece, p. 321, calls the tradition of the Wise Men
a legend.
EARLY GREEK IN ANCIENT PHILOSOPHY 13
1. T/ie Cosmological Period begins with the birth
of Greek philosophical reflection (625 B. c.) and has
a nominal ending with the Persian wars (480 B. c.).
This does not mean that the interest of the Greeks in
cosmology stopped in 480 B. c., but that it was no
longer their prominent interest. Cosmology is the study
of the reality of the physical universe (the cosmos).
The particular cosmological question occupying the
minds of the Greeks in this period may be stated thus :
What, amid the changes of the physical world, is per
manent ? This will be seen to be a philosophical ques
tion and not the same as a question in natural science.
The theatre of philosophical activity was the colonies
and not the motherland. Two important aspects of this
period must be considered besides the philosophical, —
the political situation and the religious mysteries.
2. The Anthropological Period begins in the mo
therland before the cosmological movement ended in
the colonies. It starts with a great social impulse just
after the victories of the Persian wars (480 B. c.) and
ends with the death of Socrates (399 B. c.). Athens is
the centre. This period includes the most productive
intellectual epoch of Greece as a whole, although not
its greatest philosophers. Socrates is the most striking
persjmality_in the L perjpjL Tha .period is called anthro
pological, because itsjnterest js in the studv^of maiLand
not of the physical universe. The word anthropology
means the study of man.
3. The /Systematic Period begins with the death o£
Socrates (399 B. c.) and ends with the death of Aris-
totle (322 B. c.)« Alexander the Great died 323 B. c.
The period is called systematic because it contains the
three great organizers or systematizers of Greek philo-
14 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
sophy. These were Democritus, Plato, and Aristotle.
The spread of Greek culture beyond its own limits
through the conquests of Alexander is of great impor
tance for the history of thought in the Hellenic-Roman
Period, which follows this period.
CHAPTER II
THE COSMOLOGICAL PERIOD (625-180 B. C.) : THE
PHILOSOPHY OF 'NATURE
WHEN we enter upon the one hundred and fifty years
of philosophical beginnings of Greece, which are called
the Cosmological Period, we find ourselves confronted
with an extremely interesting social situation, which has
been brought about partly by the political and geograph
ical environment of the Greek, partly by his inherited
genius. On the one hand, during this century and a half,
the political troubles of the Greeks became increasingly
aggravated by the growth of Persia on the east and of
Carthage on the west. On the other hand, we find that
the Greek religion took a sudden turn to mysticism,
and by its side a slow but increasing interest in philo
sophical questions. All through this period Greek poli
tics and Greek religion were a constant peril to Greek
life. Greek philosophy proved to be its safety.
The Peril in the Greek Political Situation : Persia
and Carthage. It must be remembered that the Greek
cities never united into a nation. They were always
fighting among themselves. We have already pointed
out the civil disturbances between the oligarchy and
the democracy throughout the land. These internal,/
troubles continued to the end of Greek history. In this
period there was added to these internal troubles a
critical external situation which threatened the existence
of Greece itself. The sixth century was a momentous
one for Greece. In both the east and the west there
16 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
arose mighty empires that threatened to wipe out its
civilization. " The expansion of the Persian power
(on the one hand) had suspended a stone of Tantalus
over Hellas, and it seemed likely that Greek civiliza
tion might be submerged in an Oriental monarchy." 1
Cyrus had laid the foundation of Persia by taking Media
in 550 B. a, Lydia in 546 B. c., Babylonia in 538 B. c.;
Egypt was added by Carnbyses in 528 B. c. ; and
Darius organized the great Persian possessions in his
long reign from 528 to 486 B. c. On the west, Car
thage was threatening the Greek cities of Sicily, and at
the close of this period was acting in conjunction with
Persia to obtain possession of the Mediterranean.
The Peril in the New Religion : The Mysteries and
Pythagoras. Already in the seventh century B. c. the po
litical society of Greece felt that it was under the wrath
of the gods because of some unatoned guilt. " The earth
is full of ills, of ills the sea," sang the poet. Keligious
depression became universal. Dissatisfied with the old
polytheism, especially as expressed in the theogony of
Hesiod, the Greek in the sixth century B. c. began to
interpret it according to his present need. Among the
masses there appeared the craving for immortality and
for personal knowledge of the supernatural. The desire
to solve the mystery of life by a short road became uni
versal. Men looked to rites to purify them from the
guilt of the world and for gaining personal contact with
the world of shades. This new religion became pan-
Hellenic. It is called the Mysteries or the Orgia. By
Mysteries is not meant societies founded on some occult
intellectual belief, as the name might suggest. The
Mysteries were based on cult (ceremony), and not on
1 Bury, History of Greece, p. 311.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE 17
dogma. The special ceremonies were those of initiation
and purification. They were supposed to purify the par
ticipant and put him in a new frame of mind. The soul
would then be protected from the malicious spirits to
which it was constantly exposed. The ceremonies are
reported to have been attended sometimes by more than
thirty thousand people. They consisted of processions,
songs, dances, and dramatic spectacles. The most impor
tant of the Mysteries were the Orphic and the Eleu-
sinian.
The Mysteries were the basis of the society of Py
thagoreans. Pythagoras, of Samos was a remarkable
man, who went to Italy and settled at Crotona. His sect
is of double importance to us because in later times it
developed a philosophy on its mathematical and astro
nomical sides. Pythagoras and his immediate following
must be distinguished from the later Pythagoreans.
Pythagoras and the early Pythagoreans were not philo
sophers, but a sect like the Orphic society of Myster
ies, yet the sect of Pythagoreans embraced much more
in its scope. It tried to control the public and private
life of its members and to evolve a common method of
education.1 Pythagoras was an exiled aristocrat, and
his sect was an aristocratic religious body in reaction
against the democratic excesses. The only doctrine
upon which Pythagoras placed any emphasis was that
of immortality in the form of metempsychosis (trans
migration of the soul from one bodily form into an
other). The sect was dispersed as a religious body
about 450 B. C. The scattered members formed a
school of philosophy at Thebes until about 350 B. C.
1 Burnet, Early Greek Philosophers, p. 104, for injunctions upon thj
private life of the early Pythagoreans.
18 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
Of these later philosophical Pythagoreans and their
number theory, we shall speak in the proper place.
At the time of the dispersion of the Pythagoreans
there existed no longer any peril from the new religion.
The craze of the new religion was passing away. During
the sixth century B. c. it was a great peril to the future
intellectual life of Greece. Had it then gained a little
more power it would probably have been admitted by
the priesthood to the temples. In the exercise of such
enormous sacerdotal power, the priests would have en
slaved the Greek mind to superstition, and the priest
hood in turn would have become an easy tool for tyrants.
There would then have been no Socrates, no Plato, and
no Aristotle. The Mysteries were a reaction toward
asceticism as a religious salvation from the political peril,
but they were, however, equally as great a peril to
Greece. The medium course along the line of a rational
philosophy, which the Greek genius actually took,
proved its salvation.
Characteristics of the Cosmologists. There are cer
tain characteristics of this early philosophy that should
be noted at the beginning.
• (1) All the Cosmologists were physical scientists,
and with few exceptions their scientific views were note
worthy. Aristotle calls them physicists in distinction
from their predecessors, whom he calls theologians.
(2) They often worked together in schools. Tradi
tion has been common since Bacon that philosophy cen
tres in individuals ; but history shows that frequently
the Greeks worked in corporate bodies. These philo
sophical scientists worked in schools ; just as the Homer-
idae developed the epic ; the Dsedalida?, a group of the
earliest artists, the secret of art ; the Mysteries, reli-
THE PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE 19
gion. Philosophy now is in the cloister, and the intellect
of the time speaks from its retreat from public life.
While the Milesian school was undisturbed, owing to
the long peace that Miletus enjoyed, we shall find that
most of the philosophers of the Cosmological period
were in retirement on account of political persecution.
We must remember that by " school " is not necessa
rily meant a group of pupils under the established in
struction of a teacher. A school at this early period is
a group of learned men at work on the same problems.
Later on in history we shall find that one of the group
more learned than the others stands in the position of
teacher : for example, Plato in the Academy.
(3) All the Cosmologists were hylozoists. The ety
mological meaning of hylozoism is its true one — matter
is alive. This is the fundamental characteristic of these
pre-Socratics from Thales down to Anaxagoras, al
though some authorities contend that those from the
time of Empedocles were not hylozoists. The meaning
of hylozoism is simple enough, but the conception is a
difficult one for the modern mind ; for to-day we are ac
customed to think of an impersonal nature under me
chanical laws. To the Greek of the Cosmological period
the substantial constitution of the universe is imper
sonal living matter ; to us it is impersonal dead
matter. Both these views are to be contrasted witL
the religious belief involved in Greek polytheism, in
which the cosmos is conceived to be living personal
spirits ; this Homeric polytheism is again to be con
trasted with the animism of the tribal period, in that it
had organized into an aesthetic unity the early savage
animism. These hylozoistic philosophers did not, how
ever, give up the Homeric gods, but they treated their
20 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
existence in a poetic way. They usually believed in
their existence, but they always subordinated them to
the one living world-ground.
(4) In common with all ancient peoples these Greek
philosophers did not believe that the universe had un
limited space. On the contrary, they believed that it was
limited and in the shape of an egg.
Table of Cosmologists. The Cosmologists are di
vided into two classes : (1) the earlier were monists —
those who believe that the reality of the universe is a
simple, undifferentiated unity ; (2) the later were plu-
ralists — those who believe that the reality of the uni
verse consists of several elements equally real. They
are enumerated as follows : —
THE MONISTS
( Thales )
1. The Milesian school •< Anaximander > at Miletus.
( Anaximenes )
2. Xenophanes at Colophon
and Elea.
3. The Eleatic school \ Parmenides \ ^^
\ Zeno J
4. Heraclaitus at Ephesus.
THE PLURALISTS
5. Empedocles at Agrigentum.
6. Anaxagoras at Clazomense.
7. The later Pythagoreans mainly at Thebes.
8. Leucippus at Abdera.
How the Philosophical Question Arose. The interests
of these philosophical scientists sharply differentiate
them from the preceding theogonists, like Hesiod and
Epimenides, as well as from the masses who were ab
sorbed in the religion of the Mysteries. They were,
moreover, the men of Greece to whom the emotional
THE PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE
21
excitement of a religious revival would not appeal as a
refuge from the troubles of the time. Their own ex
perience in the political troubles had made paramount
the question as to the permanence of things. Neverthe
less, its answer must be found in nature and in an in
tellectual way. When they turned to the traditional
theogonies they found 110 answer to their question, for
MAP SHOWING WHERE THE COSMOLOGISTS LIVED
(None of the Cosmologists, except the later Pythagoreans, lived in the motherland
of Greece. Philosophical activity during this period took place in the colonies. The
map shows the cities which were the centres of philosophy and the homes of the phi
losophers as indicated.)
there was only a mythical chronicle of a succession of
gods beginning with the unknown. The question of the
Cosmologists was not, therefore, what was the original
form of this changing world, but what is fundamental
in the world always. The time factor is no longer im
portant. Not the temporal prius but the real prius is
what they seek. The idea of a temporal origin of things
gives place to that of eternal being, and the question
finally emerges, What is the real substance that con
stitutes the universe f
22 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
The Greek Monistic Philosophies. Turning back to
our classification on page 20, we see that the earliest
Greek philosophers emphasized the monistic tendency,
which had become so prominent in Greek religion. This
group of monists was composed of the Milesians, Xenoph-
anes, the Eleatic School, and Heracleitus. The course
of reasoning of these early thinkers is naively simple,
and like all naive thought, it contains such contradic
tions that the modern reader is likely to become im
patient with it. The value of the study of the philos
ophy of these early Greeks is entirely historical. Its
historical value, however, is very great, for it is a rev
elation of the culture of the Greece of that time, it
throws light on many of the teachings of Plato and
Aristotle, and most of all it contains the germs of mod
ern metaphysical problems. These first Greek philos
ophers raised the question, What is the constitution
of the substance of the universe ? Their answers are
nai've solutions to the historical metaphysical "riddle."
The Milesians, who form the earliest philosophical
school in European history, seem to have assumed two
facts as self-evident about the substance of the universe :
(1) There is a single cosmic substance identical with
itself, which is the basis of all the changes in nature ; (2)
Moving matter is the same as life. The Milesians were
quite unconscious that these two assumptions were con
tradictory, but the contradiction impressed their succes
sors — Xenophanes, Heracleitus, and the Eleatics ; and
divided them in their development of philosophy. Mat-
IX'ter which keeps identical with itself is the Unchanging *
1 Note further that in future philosophical discussions of this prob
lem, the technical word " Being" is used for the Unchanging or the
substance that remains forever like itself, and the technical -word
*' Becoming " is used for the changing processes of Nature.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE 23
and is brought into opposition with Life, the Changingt
or matter which moves. The question for Xenophanes,
Heracleitus, and the Eleatics — and indeed for all fu
ture philosophy — was : How can the changing proc
esses of life be explained by an unchanging substance ?
XejiopLajifiS, who was more of a religious reformer
than a philosopher, was so absorbed in the first of these
assumptions that he developed it for his purpose in his
practical social reformation to the entire neglect of the
second assumption. The Eleatics, however, to whose
city Xenophanes had come, could not leave his doctrine
in its one-sided and undeveloped form. They accepted
his teaching of the divine Unchangingness of the uni
verse, but this compelled these prof ounder thinkers to
offer some explanation of the natural processes of
change. Change to them cannot really exist. Heraclei
tus, on the other hand, was impressed with the aspect
of life that is expressed in the second assumption of
the Milesians — living matter is moving matter. He
therefore maintained in direct opposition to the Eleatics,
that the changing, living processes of nature alone are
real. The two contradictory assumptions that lay so
mutually indifferent in the Milesian doctrine thus be
came the basis of a sharp metaphysical controversy be
tween Heracleitus and the Eleatics. The substance «f
the world is permanent, change is an illusion, said the
Eleatics. The substance of the world changes, perma
nence is an illusion, said Heracleitus. Either all things
are permanent or all things change. These early philos
ophers had no wealth of empirical knowledge nor of
psychological reflection upon which to draw, and it is
not strange that they should take extreme positions
and be blind to their practical consequences.
24 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
I. The Milesian School. Of all the Greek cities
in the sixth century B. c. Miletus was the wealthiest
and most prosperous. It was one of the Ionian colonies
and was situated on the coast of Asia Minor, and it
alone was able to preserve its autonomy as neighbor
of the warring eastern empires. Not until the battle
of Lade was it captured and destroyed (494 B. c.).
From two generations of philosophers history has pre
served three names, — Thales, Anaximander, and An-
aximenes. The school is called indifferently the Milesian
or the Ionic school. The proximity of Miletus to Ephe-
sus, Colophon, and Clazomenae (as a glance at the map
will show) explains the influence of the Milesian school
upon the doctrines of Heracleitus, Xenophanes, and
Anaxagoras. Undoubtedly the contact of the Milesians
with the Orient and Egypt had brought to them knowl
edge and correct scientific observations of many sorts,
especially astronomical.
Jhales (b. 640 B. c.) was a member of one of the
leading families of Miletus, and lived during the flour
ishing period of the city under the tyranny of Thrasy-
bulus. He is counted among the seven Wise Men, and
belonged to the rich commercial class. He probably
engaged in commerce and traveled in Egypt. He was
versed in the current learning, predicted an eclipse,
and was acute in mathematics and physics. Probably
he never committed anything to writing. Aristotle'?
comments are the only data about him.
Anaximander (611-545 B. c. ?) was an astronomer
— * *
and geographer ; he made an astronomical globe, a sun
dial, and a geographical map. He was an intimate dis
ciple of Thales and wrote Concerning Nature, which
is referred to as the first Greek philosophical treatise.
Nothing is known of his life.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE 25
es (560-500 B. c. ?) was the disciple of
Anaximander. One sentence is preserved of his writ
ings, i
The Milesian Philosophy. The Milesians lived upon
the seacoast, and the changes of the sea and air must
have deeply impressed them. They had an intellec
tual curiosity to find the cosmic matter which remained
identical with itself and at the same time moved. (See
p. 22.) They were not, therefore, interested to discover
the chemical composition of matter, but to find what
matter was most moving and therefore most alive. Thales
said that it was water ; Anaximenes, air ; and Anaxi
mander, the Apeiron, or the Unlimited- Their respec
tive choices were determined by what seemed to possess
the most mobility and the greatest inner vitality. Thalea
thought water possessed this quality. Water is always
moving. Thales saw it moving. It therefore has life in
itself. Anaximander felt that no object in our percep
tual experience would fully explain the ceaseless mobil
ity of nature, and he called it the Unlimited or the
Indeterminate — the Apeiron. It is a mixture in which
all qualities are lost. The changes in nature are end
less, and therefore the single cosmic substance, from
which they come, must be endless as well, for "from
whatever source things come, in that they have their
end." We learn that this is just the reason for Anax
imenes choosing the air for the single underlying cosmic
substance. The air is the most changeable thing and is
Unlimited.1
Both Thales and Anaximenes still held to the tra
ditional polytheism of the Greek Epic. Anaximander
1 " Just as our soul, being air, holds us together, so do breath and ail
encompass the whole world."
26 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
rises above them in this respect. This conception of
the Unlimited, to which his scientific search led him, is
regarded by him as Deity. He calls it " the divine "
(TO OCLOV) ; although he speaks of it in the neuter gender
\t is, nevertheless, the first European philosophical con
ception of God. It is the first attempt to conceive of
God as purely physical and yet without any mythical
dress. In Anaximander the Milesian monism has a reli
gious aspect.
2. Xenophanes, the Religious Philosopher (570
B. c.). The scientific monism of Anaximander was after
all only expressive of that religious dissatisfaction, first
voiced by the Wise Men, against the Hesiod cosmogony
and the immorality of the Homeric myths. Now for the
first time a positive conflict between religion and phi
losophy arose through Xenophanes, the rhapsodist of
Colophon. Colophon, an Ionian city near Miletus, was
noted for its obscene and cruel religious practices, and
when his native city capitulated to the Persians, Xe
nophanes charged its feebleness to its immoral religion.
He went toMagna Gra3cia, and, disguised as a musician,
he wandered about for sixty-seven years through its
length and breadth declaiming in song against the
anthropomorphism, the mystic ecstasies, and the gen
eral social practices of the Greeks. He finally settled
in Elea, southern Italy (see map), and on this ac
count he is sometimes called the founder of the Eleatic
school.
• Xenophanes' influence upon the thought of Greece
was threefold : (1) He preached the Milesian philosoph
ical monism to the people of Greece in the form of a reli
gious monism ; (2) He carried this doctrine from east
ern Greece (Asia Minor) to Western Greece (Magna
THE PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE 27
Graecia) ; (3) He was the connecting link between the
Milesian and the following Eleatic school.
The Philosophy of Xenophanes. Based on one of the
Milesian assumptions, viz., a_^in^le_cojniic_siihstance
remains identical with itself in nature, Xenophanes felt
l;hat "he had a right to set down two principles about
qature.
1. The sin^lejprhnordial substance below the changes
of nature is God. The reality below nature which Thales
conceived to be water, Anaximander to be unlimited
substance without a name, Anaximenes to be air, was
said by Xenophanes to be God. The important point
here is that Xenophanes has not given the Greeks a
spiritualistic conception of God; but that he has posi
tively stated that the su^s^c_e_^Ohe^ universe is an
object of religious devotion. He calls the cosmic sub
stance God instead of calling it water, Apeiron, or air.
It is a material thing, and yet it is an object of rever
ence. He ascribes to this God a spherical forjm, and yet
also mental power of omniscience. God is " one and
all " (ei/ KO.I irav), and yet he is " one god, the greatest
among gods and men, neither in form and thought like
unto mortals." The positive conception of God hangs
confused in the mind of Xenophanes. He is scarcely a
monotheist, nor yet a pantheist. He is a hylozoist, who
conceives the underlying cosmic substance to be an
object of religious reverence.
2. The single cosmic substance belp_w_ the_£hanges of
nature is ^changeable. To the Milesians the more
moving is matter, the more alive is it. Life and activ
ity are the same thing. To Xenophanes this is not
the case, but, on the contrary, the opposite is true. He
conceiYfia_Iio4_tobe a definite sher
28 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
able andhomogenequs. ThemaJeriaLmibstanfifi^ God,
always remains the same. "Hehas no need of going
about, now hither, now thither, in order to carry out his
wishes ; but he governs all men without toil." Xe-
nophanes thus becomes the forerunner of the Eleatic
school.
3. Heracleitus, "the Misanthropist" and "the Ob
scure " (about 563-470 B. c.). Heracleitus was a
native of Ephesus, belonged to the aristocracy, and suf
fered at the hands of the democracy. He wrote a treatise
that was difficult to understand even by the ancients, some
fragments of which are preserved. He was called the
"weeping philosopher" because of his misanthropy,
and also the " dark philosopher " because of the obscurity
of his writings. He was a theorist rather than a phys
icist, and his doctrines foreshadow our modern physical
theories. His name is coupled with that of Parmenides
in the deep impression he made upon Greek thought.
From his complacent and gloomy retirement he looked
forth upon the world around him with profound con
tempt, as did the Stoics after him.
a. Heracleitus' Doctrine of Absolute and Univer
sal Change. The wonder which the lonians felt, that
nature phenomena change into one another, found its
liveliest expression in Heracleitus. He not only found
that mutability was the primal aspect of nature pheno
mena, but he also pointed out that human experiences
also had their rapid and complete transitions. Espe
cially was he fond of citing the changes of opposites into
each other. But what shows his development over the
early Milesian doctrine was his isolation of the aspect
of change from the Milpsi^n f*rmp.fiptjon of the cosmic'
matter, thereby affirming that
THE PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE 29
It is one thing to affirm that reality is essen«
tially change ; it is another to universalize change by
affirming that the permanent has no existence. The
Milesian doctrine was too naive to go as far as that.
Heracleitus piles up figures of speech to show that there
is no permanence whatever. All existing things are
only " becoming "-things, passing-away things. Being is
always becoming, about-to-be. The only unchanging
" You cannot step into the same rivers,
for fresh waters are ever flowing in upon you." " God
is day and night, winter and summer, war and peace,
satiety and hunger." " All things flow " (?ravTa pet).
What abides and deserves the name of Deity is not
thing, but motion — Becoming.
£>. Fire is the Cosmic Substance. Here we come to
a difficulty in explaining the doctrine of Heracleitus
because of the confusion in his own mind. He evidently
goes a long way toward conceiving the cosmic substance
as an abstraction — as the process of change. But he
could not be wholly abstract. He stops and tells us that
the cosmic substance is fire, and he probably means by
fire just the same sort of thing as Anaximenes meant
by air. Fire is the cosmic substance. It is the essence
oj_ajl material things bp^qiise it is the most_mobile.
But, after all, the fire of which Heracleitus is thinking
is not a localized thing, like the fire on the hearth. For
the hearth fire in a sense is ever identical with itself.
The fire which Heracleitus means is ever darting, ever
transforming material. To sum up : Heracleitus does
not mean by fire an abstraction like the law of change ;
he does not mean, on the other hand, a material ever
remaining like_Jj^elf ; he does mean a material, but a
transforming material.
30 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
c. The Definite Changes of Fire. Heracleitus makes
some acute observations about the characteristics of
the changing fire. The Milesians had been content to
observe atmospheric changes and to name condensa
tion and rarefaction as the forms of cosmic change.
Heracleitus goes farther and emphasizes definite rela
tions of change. The succession of changes always
remains the same. Their definite relation is the only
permanence in the world, and .Heracleitus' conception \
foreshadows the modern conception of the uniformity (
of the law of nature. The changes are (1) fateful, (2)
rational, and (3) just. They show that the world is a
destiny, a reason, and a justice. This identification of
ethical and logical qualities with the physical betrays the
Undeveloped condition of the thought of Heracleitus.
In general, there are two characteristics to be noted
with reference to Heracleitus' conception of a definite
succession of changes : (IX^Ilfi-cbangesjire always_a
harmony of opposites_; (2) ancMjhe changes are in a
closed circuit. The process of change is not a flow in
one direction like a river over its bed, but it is a move
ment in two opposite directions.
means not only a passing into something else
passing into the opposite. Everything is the union of
opposite*, and everything is the transition point of op-
posites about to separate. The flux of things is thus
poetically conceived as a war of things, and this war is
"the father of all things." This unity of opposites has
an equilibrium that illudes us into thinking it is per
manent. The universe is an invisible harmony, divided
into itself and again united. Investigate life and there
are antitheses everywhere. War is life. The second
general characteristic of the succession of changes is
THE PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE 31
their closed circuit. Fire changes into all things, and
all things are changing back into fire. These two move«
ments are called the "Upward Way" and the "Down
ward Way." Downward, fire changes through air and
water into earth. Upward, earth changes back to water,
air, and fire. With every change, there is counter-
change, action is accompanied by a reaction. "Men do
not know how that which is drawn in opposite direc
tions harmonizes with itself. The harmonious structure
of the world depends upon opposite tension, like that of
the bow and the lyre."
d. The Practical Philosophy of Heracleitus. Hera-
cleitus was more of a metaphysician than a phys
icist, and his chief concern was in the formation and
the practical application of his theory of change. He
looked upon man as a bit of cosmic fire struck off and
imprisoned in a body of earth, water, and air. After
death this fiery soul is released and absorbed in the
cosmic fire. In his present state man has a divided ex
istence : the life of the soul, or the fire of the reason ;
and the life of the senses of the imprisoning body. The
reason retires from the illusions of sense, and sees in its
aristocratic isolation how illusory the sensations are.
For th£j>ejtt3ejjjbejl^^
while the reason sees through this deception, to the
changingness of the world. Thus the beginning is made
by Heracleitus in distinguishing the reflections of
the reason from sensations. Truth is for the first time
systematically set over against opinion. The reason
able Wise Man resigns himself to whatever happens
because he knows that it is fateful, wise, and just. The
Wise Man recognizes that all is change, and he is happy
because he sees providence in the vicissitudes of his own
U^r^
32 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
life. Thus in the aristocratic hate, which Heracleitus
holds against democracies, he makes conformity to law
the only way to happiness. The reason of Wise Men,
and not the senses of the multitude, must be the true
guide of society.
Heracleitus was a profound observer and theorist.
His physical theory foreshadowed the modern th^riim
of natural law and of relativity; his practical theories
reappear in the psychology of Protagoras and the ethics
of the Stoics.
4. The Eleatic School. The town of Elea to which
Xenophanes came in the course of his wanderings had
been recently settled by the Ionian refugees from Pho-
caea, a great maritime city in Asia Minor, which had
been conquered by the Persians (543 B. c.). Elea is
now Castellamare on the west coast of Italy. It is cele
brated as the birthplace of Parmenides and Zeno, who
founded the so-called Eleatic school.
a. Parmenides (b. 515 B. c.).
Parmenides wrote about 470 B. c. He is represented
as a serious and influential man, with a high moral
character. He exercised strong influence upon such
philosophers as Plato and Democritus, and was a politi
cal power in the city of Elea, of which he was a native.
He was not a stranger to the Pythagoreans. The large
fragment of his poem is the most ancient monument ex
tant of metaphysical speculation among the Greeks.
Parmenides takes the doctrine of Xenophanes with
great seriousness, and what Xenophanes says about the
Godhead, Parmenides says about all things. Xenoph
anes' religious weapon of an unchanging cosmic sub
stance becomes in the hands of Parmenides an academic
doctrine of science and the basis of logical controversy.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE 33
Parmenides used the conception of Xenophanes in his
great didactic poem, The Way of Truth and the Way
of Opinion, with the evident purpose of refuting the
theory of Heracleitus. The fragment of the poem re
veals the driest abstractions dressed in rich poetry. As
a thinker Parmenides is the most important in this
period. Zeno was the friend and pupil of Parmenides.
(1) The Cosmic Substance is Being. The first as
sumption in the Milesian doctrine — that there is a
single matter that ever remains identical with itself —
was so self-evident to Parmenides that he does not at
tempt to prove it. He assumes it, as if it were cogent
to everybody. However, he explains what he means by
Being in a negative statement : Not-Being, or what is
not, cannot be thought. Being and thought are so cor
related that they are the same. Thinking always has
Being as its content, and there is no Being that is not
thought. Being = Thought. This explanation of Par
menides' identification of thought and Being may be
put in this logical form : —
All thinking refers to something thought, and there
fore has Being for its content ;
Thinking that refers to nothing, and is therefore
contentless, cannot be;
Therefore, not-Being cannot be thought, much less
can it be.
These propositions look very abstract, and make us
believe that we are to plunge immediately into a kind
of German idealism. But Parmenides leaves us in no
doubt that he is one of the hylozoists of his time.
Being is indeed thought, but Being is also matter. We
may therefore amend our equation to Being = Thought
34 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
= Matter. Being is what fills space, and all Being has
this and only this property. All Being is therefore ex
actly alike, and there is only one, single Being. There
are no distinctions in Being. By not-Being Parmenides
means empty space or that which is not material. So
that Parmenides' assumption of Being as the cosmic
substance means this : all that exists, including thought,
fills space; and all that does not exist does not fill
space.
Being, the cosmic substance, is one, eternal, imper
ishable, homogeneous, unchangeable, and material.
When men see the world as it really is, when they see
its cosmic substance, they see it to be one continuous
material block. The world is not made up of parts with
intervals of nothing between them, but it is a solid,
homogeneous whole. The cosmic Being is a timeless,
spaceless Being with no distinctions. The form of Be
ing is spherical. It is cosmic-body and cosmic-thought.
This is the assumption of Parmenides, which is so self-
evident and so cogent to him that he does not attempt
to prove but only to explain it.
(2) Other Things than the Cosmic Substance (Be
ing) have no Real Existence. If Being is space that
is filled, not-Being is empty space. However, empty
space has no existence. But the existence of a plural
number of things depends upon the existence of empty
spaces between them. Furthermore, the motion of things
and the change of things depend upon the existence of
empty spaces in which they can move and change.
Since empty space is not-Being and has no existence,
the plurality of things and the motion and change of
things have also no existence. They are illusions. The
nature-world, with its richness of qualities and variety
THE PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE 35
of motions, before the logic of Parmenides "folds up
its tents like the Arabs and silently steals away."
This logical drawing out of one of the aspects of the
Milesian conception of the cosmic matter has a curious
result. The Milesians and Xenophanes sought to ex
plain by the cosmic substance the many nature changes.
But when in the hands of Parmenides the cosmic sub
stance is all of reality, then there is no reality to the
changes. Consequently the concept formed for the ex-
pla.naijnn of change Jias_ .sa_daYeiepei__as .to deny the
existence of change,. The cosmic substance excludes all
origination and decay, all space and time differences,
all divisibility, diversity, and movement. There is only
one real, all else is illusion.
But what can we say of the varied world of nature
as it appears to us ? Do we see, hear, and touch many
things and motions ? In Part II of his poem he raises
the question, Suppose man takes the world of change
as real how must he explain it ? He answers by using
the explanation of Heracleitus. But these changes of
eye and ear belong to the world of sense, and Par
menides is talking, in Part I of his poem, about the
real world or that world known to thought. Parmenides
insists as strongly as did Heracleitus that the reason
and not the sense shall be our guide to what is real.
Yet he arrives at exactly the opposite conclusion from
Heracleitus as to what the reason sees as real. The
senses show us only the many and the changing. The
reason shows us nothing of the sort, but only perma
nence and unchangingness.
6. Zeno (b. 490-430 B. a).
Zeno was born in Elea. He was contemporary with
those who tried to reconcile the two sides of the meta-
36 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
physical controversy, — Empedocles, Anaxagoras, and
the Atomists. He wrote in prose in the form of ques
tion and answer. This is the beginning of the dialogue
literature, which in the time of the Sophists, Socrates
and Plato, was richly developed and became known as
dialectic. On the Greek stage during the time of Peri
cles it came forth in dramatic form through ^Eschylus,
Sophocles, and Euripides.
The Philosophy of Zeno. Zeno was the active con
troversialist of the school of Elea, and he was not a
constructive philosopher. He offered no contribution
to advance the thought of Parmenides. He appeared
rather as the master of logical argument in defense of
his predecessor, by tearing to pieces the arguments of
his opponents. The opponents that Zeno is attacking
are the Atomists of Abdera, who were his contempora
ries, rather than Heracleitus. His contribution was neg
ative and formal, but it was nevertheless effective and
searching. His arguments and paradoxes will, however,
lose their cogency unless it be kept in mind that he is
trying to show how absurd magnitude, multiplicity, and
change would be in discontinuous space such as the
Atomists describe. While his paradoxes have been at
tacked again and again, they still have effectiveness
against atomic theories.
His arguments are against magnitude, multiplicity,
and motion. There can be no magnitude, because a thing
would then be both infinitely small and infinitely great.
There can be no multiplicity of things, since they would
be both limited and unlimited in number. There can be
no motion, because (1) it is impossible to go through a
fixed space ; (2) it is impossible to go though a space
that has movable limits ; and (3) because of the rela-
THE PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE 37
tivity of motion. The dilemmas which he proposed of
Achilles and the tortoise, the flying arrow at rest, and
the bushel of corn are classic.*
The Results of the Conflict between Heracleitus
and Parmenides. 1. One important result of this
final conflict between the inconsistent motives in the
Milesian teaching was that reason was contrasted with
sense, reflection with experience. The more fully the
philosophers developed their doctrines, the more their
doctrines became contrasted with the opinions of unre
flecting people. At first the contrast appeared in this
naive form : that what they thought was right, and
what others thought must be wrong, if others differed
from them. Then the contrast came in this form : that
reflection gives the true and sensations the false. Thus
reflection came to have such conclusiveness that it gained
independence. The philosopher began to feel the su
premacy of reason, to assert that he has truth, to call
unreasoned belief by the opprobrious name of " opinion."
This is curiously illustrated in the case of Heracleitus
and Parmenides. Their opposing conceptions of the cos-\
mic substance are claimed to be the result of reason,/
while each calls the other's theory " opinion."
2. Another result was that in the Greek thought
the monistic theory was found to be useless in the
study of nature. These early monistic views led up as
necessary steps to pluralism, but they were not in them
selves serviceable. The imperfection in the Milesian
teaching appeared in the impassable gulf between Hera
cleitus and Parmenides. It now remained for the last
Cosmologists to see if, on the basis of pluralism, they
* Read Windelband, Hist, of Ancient Phil., pp. 67 ff. ;
Zeller, Greek Philosophy, pp. 63 ff.
38 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
could not reconcile the preceding views and at the same
time obtain a satisfactory metaphysics of nature.
3. The third result of the controversy between the
Eleatics and Heracleitus was that the peril from the
Orphic Mysteries was averted, — not immediately?
nor in a year's time, but after many years. Philosophy
became established. The Greek reason now had an
object of interest, in a sharp scientific issue. Mystery
was not crushed, but subdued. The mental life of the
future Greek had a topic for its reflection which sup
planted, when the time came, its emotional interest in
the supernatural.
CHAPTER III
PLURALISM
Efforts toward Reconciliation. The theories of Hera-
cleitus and Parmenides were in part fantastic and in
part abstract. They were the two motives of the Mile
sian school that had been developed so far as to reveal
their inherent inconsistencies.
Physical theories now began to spring up which
modified the metaphysical theories ; and these produced
results which while not so logical, were less distant from
the facts of life. The Eleatics had so conceived Being as
to deny the existence of changing phenomena perceived
in the world of nature. On the other hand, Heracleitus
had so emphasized the universality of change that
there was little reality left in the particular changes.
The later Heracleitans were Heracleitus gone mad.
"We not only cannot step into the same river twice,
but we cannot do it once." All the preceding philoso
phers had been monists. The time had therefore come
for thinkers to abandon monism if thought were to
have any usefulness. Monism, whether in the form of
Heracleitus' doctrine of universal change or of Par
menides' doctrine of universal permanence, had merely
set aside the problem about the Many. Of course, a
more satisfactory solution of this problem could come
only when human life had become riper and had more
experiences upon which to draw. It was natural for the
Greek philosopher to look now to pluralism for his
solution, when he turned away from monism. At the
40 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
outset pluralism tried to reconcile the two extremes to
which the Milesian motifs had gone. Its later develop
ment in the doctrine of Protagoras was as extreme as
that of the monists.
The New Conception of Change of the Pluralists. Fac
ing the fact that change has to be explained and cannot
be denied, change is conceived by the pluralists to be not
a transformation but a transposition. It is an alteration
in position of the parts of a mass. Birth, growth, death,
are only such changes of transposition. Empedocles, to
whom the origin of the doctrine is attributed, says,
" There is no coming into Being of aught that perishes,
nor any end for it in baneful death, but only a min
gling and a separation of what has been mingled. Just
as when painters are elaborating temple offerings, —
they, when they have taken the pigments of many colors
in their hands, mix them in a harmony, — so let not
the error prevail in thy mind that there is any other
source of all the perishable creatures that appear in
countless numbers." All origination, then, is a new
combination, and every destruction only a separation
of the original parts. The Pluralists thus make Hera-
cleitus' conception useful in the explanation of nature.
The New Conception of the Unchanging of the
Pluralists — The Element. But there must be a per
manence in order that there be change. This can only
be conceived by assuming that there are many original
units that in themselves do not change. The mass of
the world is ever the same ; there is no new creation. '
Being consists in many elements, and not in a single
block. So to Empedoclesn
_
the pnOTity^oFtormmg ^ the^onception of th
which has occupied anTmportant place in science.
PLURALISM 41
The element is conceived by the Pluralists as unori-
ginated, imperishable, and unchanging. It has all the
qualities that Parmenides attributed to his single Being,
only the elements may change their place and suffer
mechanical division. The Pluralists thus make the
Eleatic conception useful in the explanation of nature.
The Introduction of the Conception of the Efficient
Cause. The Eleatics had detached the quality of mo
tion from Being. The Pluralists, in reintroducing it,
were obliged to make it a separate force in order to get
movement into their universe. The elements are change
less. How can they move? They cannot move them
selves. They are moved from without. Here in Em-
pedocles is made a differentiation of great importance
— the concept of the moving or efficient cause. How
ever, this does not appear in this early time in concep
tual but in mythical-poetic and undefined form. With
this differentiated efficient cause, can Pluralism be con
sidered to be hylozoism ? Authorities differ. Certainly
this new concept shows the beginning of the breaking
up of hylozoism and the beginning of the formation of
a mechanistic conception of the universe. But probably
the Pluralists were as much hylozoists as their prede
cessors, the monists. Their efficient causes are material
like the elements, and they are poetically and indefi
nitely described. They are in every case conceived as
the material which has a lively or an originating mo
tion. We must keep in mind that all the Cosmologists
except the Eleatics believed movement to be life.
Summary of Similarities and Differences in the
Theories of the Reconcilers.
The general common characteristics of the theories
of the Reconcilers : —
42 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
1. A plurality of the elements.
2. An efficient cause which explains the shifting of
the elements in causing the origin, growth, and
decay of the world of nature.
The general differences between the theories of the
Reconcilers : —
1. In the number and quality of the elements.
2. In the number and quality of the causes.
The Pluralistic Philosophers : Empedocles, Anaxa-
goras, Leucippus, and the Later Pythagoreans. With
the Pluralists we pass completely out of the sixth cen
tury B. C. The lives of the hylozoistic Pluralists span the
fifth century, and cosmological interest extends later.
Even the Eleatic Zeno lived from 490 to 430 B. c. Em
pedocles lived from 490 to 430 B. c., Anaxagoras from
500 to 425 B. c., and the Pythagoreans and Leucippus
later. When the cosmological movement was still virile
in the Grecian colonies, and even before it had reached
its systematic form in Democritus of Abdera, the an
thropological movement had begun in the motherland,
in Athens. The Persian Wars are the dividing line
between the two periods, but only because they denote
the beginning of the new movement in Athens, not
the end of the old movement in Asia Minor and
Magna Gra3cia. Contemporaneous with the Pluralists
was the brilliant Age of Pericles, when the Sophists
were carrying education to the people and Socrates
was teaching in the Athenian market-place. By the
middle of the fifth century B. c. there was the liveliest
interchange of scientific ideas throughout Greek society,
and the contemporaneousness of the Pluralists with one
another and with the Athenian philosophers shows this
in many similarities in their doctrines and in many
PLURALISM 43
polemical references. There are four schools of Recon*
cilers, of which Empedocles, Anaxagoras, Leucippus,
and the later Pythagoreans are the representatives.
Empedocles* (490 to 430 B. c.) was the first Dorian
philosopher, a partisan of the democracy, and belonged
to a rich family of Agrigentum. He became a dis
tinguished statesman, but he later fell from popular
favor. Then, in the garb of a magician, he traveled as
physician and priest through Magna Graecia. His po
litical affiliations would prevent his direct connection
with the Pythagoreans, but he showed that the Pytha
goreans influenced him, and his career is an imitation
of that of Pythagoras. He was acquainted with the
theory of Heracleitus, and he knew Parmenides per
sonally. He was one of the first rhetoricians, and was
probably connected with a large literary circle. He is
the first and most imperfect representative of the re
conciliation. The story of his suicide by leaping into
Mt. JStna is supposed to be a myth.
Anaxagoras (500-425 B. c.), a man of wealthy
antecedents, was much esteemed, was born in Clazo-
mense in a circle rich in Ionian culture, but was iso
lated from practical life. He declared the heaven to be
his fatherland and the study of the heavenly bodies to
be his life's task. He went to Athens about 450 B, c.,
where he formed one of a circle of notable men of cul
ture. He lived in Athens under the patronage of Per
icles, but in 434 B. C. he was expelled. In Athens he
was intimate with such men as Euripides, Thucydides,
and Protagoras. He represents the first appearance of
philosophy in Athens.
The life of Leucippus is almost unknown. He was
* Read Matthew Arnold, Empedocles (a poem).
44 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
probably born in Miletus, visited Elea, and settled in
Abdera.
The Later Pythagoreans. After the Pythagoreans
as a religious and political body had been defeated at
Crotona, they lost their prestige and were scattered to
the four winds. They were beaten in the battle of
Crotona (510 B. c.) and dispersed about 450 B. c.
Pythagoras died 504 B. c. His scattered followers, these
later Pythagoreans, formed a school of philosophy which
had its centre at Thebes. Destroyed as a religious body
the members lost their superstitions and turned their
attention to philosophy, astronomy, mathematics, medi
cine, and physics. As mathematicians and as astrono
mers they are the most notable among the ancients.
Philolaus is the probable originator of their philosophy
of numbers. This school disappeared about 350 B. c.
Pythagoreanism reappeared later under the name of
neo-Pythagoreanism.
The Philosophy of Empedocles. Empedocles con
ceived the number of elements to be four, — earth, air,
fire, and water, — an arbitrary enumeration, which never
theless persisted in the popular imagination throughout
the Middle Ages. He chose this number of elements
because they included all the elements in his predeces
sors' theories. By the transposition and new arrange
ment of these elements he could account for the variety
of the world. The efficient causes that make these dif
ferent separations and mixtures are Love and Hate, two
mythical and sensuous entities. Love is the cause of the
union of things, Hate of their separation.
This is the general metaphysical theory that Empedo
cles uses to explain the physical world and especially
physiological phenomena ; and he is probably best known
PLURALISM 45
as the author of the aphorism, " Like attracts Like.'*
For example, he conceives the physical world as con
tinuously repeating itself through four cosmic stages,
each centuries long. The world moves therefore in
cyclical evolution, in which Love is bringing like ele
ments together only to be followed by stages of the
separation of the like elements by Hate, — an endless
cosmic procession.
But Empedocles' interest in cosmology was only a
part of his dominating interest in the organic world.
He held some interesting evolution theories. His special
interest in human physiology led him to frame the first
theory of perception. Man is composed of the four ele
ments, and he can know the universe around himself
because Like in him attracts Like in the external world.
The earth forms our solid parts, water the liquid parts,
air is the vital breath, and fire is the soul. The blood
contains the four elements, and is therefore the real car
rier of life. If we perceive anything, it is because we
have qualities similar to that thing. The element in
us attracts the like element outside. He fancifully ex
plained how parts of each element pressed upon parts
of like elements — earth upon earth, air upon air ; and
how these clung together until sundered by Hate. The
senses have only a partial number of elements, while the
reason has them all ; therefore sense knowledge is par
tial when compared with rational knowledge.
The Philosophy of Anaxagoras. The pluralistic con
ception of the nature-substance, that was originated by
Empedocles in this crude form, got a more complete
character in the hands of Anaxagoras. For Anaxagoras
took exception to the arbitrary assumption of Empedo
cles that the elements were only four in number. How
46 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
could this world of infinite variety be derived from only
four elements ? We must postulate as many elements as
there are qualities, if by merely shuffling them — by
various combinings and separatings of them — their in
finite number is to be explained. There, are a plural
number of elements qualitatively distinct. Every per
ceptual thing is composed of these heterogeneous parts
or qualities or elements. But how do you know an ele
ment when you find one ? Always by the fact that when
you divide it, its parts are homogeneous. The elements
are, therefore, those substances that divide into parts
that are like one another ; while the perceptual objects
of nature can be divided into parts that are unlike one
another. They are called " seeds " by Anaxagoras, and
designated as " homoiomeriai " by Aristotle and later
philosophy. This was a time, it must be remembered,
when chemical analysis had not developed, and when
mechanical division and change of temperature were the
only means of investigation. Form, color, and taste were
the characteristics that differentiated elements. So An
axagoras was content to name as elements such things
as bones, muscles, flesh, marrow, metals, etc. The count
less elements or qualities are present in a finely divided
state throughout the universe. Every perceptual object
has present in it all elements, even opposite elements.
It is, however, known and named by the element that
prevails in it at any particular instant. For example,
fire contains an element of cold but the fire element
prevails. Opposites attract, and the qualitative change
in a thing consists in the predominance of some other
quality already present in it.
For the efficient cause of the combining and separat
ing of the elements Anaxagoras selected one of the
PLURALISM 47
elements. He called it the Nous, the Greek word for
mind or reason. Many historians have therefore con
cluded that Anaxagoras is the author of an idealistic
philosophy. 'Aristotle says of Anaxagoras that he " stood
out like a sober man among the random talkers that had
preceded him." But both Plato * and Aristotle are dis
appointed with the way in which Anaxagoras handles
the conception of Nous and, as a matter of fact, the
Nous, as Anaxagoras uses it, is not less hylozoistic
than the Love and Hate of Empedocles. In the Nous
/Anaxagoras threw out a thought that was too big for
him. Its introduction, however, marks the breaking up
of pre-Socratic hylozoism. Anaxagoras wrote down the
word, Nous, from which comes the contrast with matter.
He stripped the mythical dress from the efficient cause
of Empedocles and substituted Nous, because he wished
to emphasize the unity of the cosmic process. The Nous
is one of the elements ; it is " thought-stuff," it is a
corporeal substance. It differs from all the other ele
ments in that it is the finest, the most mobile, and has
the power of self-motion. If among the early schools
motion is life, here we find the new conception of self-
motion as most alive. Instead of a departure from
hylozoism, this is a rehabilitation of hylozoism in more
perfect form. The Nous is the cause of the harmony
and order of the cosmos.
The Philosophy of the Atomists — Leucippus and
the School at Abdera. Only circumstantial evidence is
left to testify to the early beginnings of the school of
atomists at Abdera. About 450 B. c., owing to the rise
of Athens and the great victory of Cimon over the Per
sians, the Ionian civilization on the coasts of Asia Minor
* Read Plato, Phaedo, 97, B.
48 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
had a new lease of life, and there was a renewal of sci«
entific activity in the cities. The influence of the Mile
sians appeared and Anaxagoras' doctrine, which had
been widely disseminated, began to have great vigor.
Among the philosophers of this section was one about
whom we know very little, except that his name was
Leucippus and that he was the father of atomism.
Miletus was probably his native place, and after visit
ing Elea he settled in Abdera in Thrace. We know ^
that the pqlemic of Zeno was directed against contem- 7
porary atomism ; and we know the theories of the pupils •'
of Leucippus, of Protagoras, and of Democritus, in whom •
the doctrine of atomism culminated. Probably the the
ory of Leucippus was that the cosmic substance is com
posed of an infinite number of elements quantitatively
distinct, in opposition to Empedocles' theory of a four
fold division as well as against Anaxagoras' theory of
an infinite number of qualities. Atomism in this early
form represents one of the ways that Greek thought
took in reconciling the conflicting claims of Heracleitus
and Parmenides. The doctrine of atomism will be pre
sented fully in its greatest representative, Democritus.
The Later Pythagoreans. Had the Pythagorean
band remained what Pythagoras had designed it, had it
not had its political aspirations crushed at the battle of
Crotona and the members scattered far and wide, it
would probably have for the historian of to-day only the
importance of a local band of political and religious
reformers. The adversity at Crotona was, however, a
blessing in disguise for the Pythagoreans and for Greece,
for it turned the Pythagoreans from religious politics
to science and metaphysics. In the first place, they be
came the authors of an important metaphysical theory.
PLURALISM 49
This was the theory of numbers which influenced Plato,
became the foundation of a vigorous school in Alexan
dria in the Hellenic-Roman Period, flourished during
the Middle Ages, and united with the doctrines of the
Jews in what is called the Cabala. To-day the magic
numbers persist in our superstitions. In the second
place, the Pythagoreans turned to science, — especially
to mathematics and astronomy, — and in these two
branches became very celebrated in ancient times. Their
astronomical theory had a most extraordinary history.
With modifications it was preserved by Plato and Aris
totle, and later became the basis of the Ptolemaic sys
tem of astronomy. This system was the scientifically
accepted system for fifteen hundred years, when it was
supplanted by the Newtonian theory. It is a most sin
gular fact that the cosmological background of the Epics
of Dante and Milton is the astronomical system of the
Pythagoreans as expressed in the Ptolemaic system.
The Pythagoreans, be it remarked, were " Reconcil
ers," but they were more. The original ethical motive
of Pythagoras _ j nfl n mi n*(\_$\Gm_sui scientists. They did
not attempt to formulate a science of ethics, but the
ethical motive was always back of their mathematics
and astronomy.
i. The Pythagorean Conception of Being. The Py
thagorean conception jrf^reality is the most advanced
of any cosmological theory in this period. The Pythago
reans were hylozoists, but they come the nearest to
transcending the hylozoism of their time. The influence
of the later Pythagoreans, whom Plato met in Italy,
upon Plato shows that Pythagorean philosophy forms
a link between the cosmology . oJLthe- colonies and the
following comprehensive systems of thought.
50 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
The important position, in the evolution of Greek
thought occupied by the Pythagoreans depends upon
their conception of that Being that abides amid all
Change. Pythagoreanism is usually spoken of as " the
number theory." This is, however, only a suggestion of
its import. For numbers are not to the Pythagoreans
what the different kinds of cosmic matter were to the
early monists, or what the several elements were to the
pluralists, — Empedocles, Anaxagoras, and the atomists.
Neither are they abstractions merely, such as we use in sci
entific reckoning. ThePythagoreans were pluralists and
hylozoists whose pluraTnumbers look beyond hylozoism.
There" are two kinds of_reality in the Pythagorean
teaching: (1) numbers, and (2) unlimited space. The
essential nature of things, the Being that abides, con
sists in the shaping of this unlimited space into mathe
matical forms. The numbers or the forms are the lim
ited aspect of Being; space is the unlimited aspect of
Being. Actual Being consists in the union of the two
aspects. Being therefore has two roots, each being ne
cessary to the other. The later Pythagoreans, indeed,
called attention to the fact that their numbers were not
the same as the different kinds of matter out of which
the other Cosmologists conceived the world to be fash
ioned. Numbers are not the stuff out of which the
world of nature-objects have arisen, but rather are
forms of nature-objects. Numbers are the patterns or
models of things ; things are the copies or imitations
of numbers. Unlimited space furnishes the material ;
numbers or mathematical forms furnish the mould ; the
result is a material thing. Here we find the early basis
of Plato's doctrine of Ideas, and the correlation in Aris
totle of Form and matter. If we were to draw an ana-
PLURALISM 51
logy between the Pythagorean conception of numbers
and any part of the preceding cosmological teaching, we
should find the similarity between the numbers and the
earlier efficient causes and not between the numbers
and the elements. For example, Pythagorean numbers
have a function more nearly like Love and Hate than
like the four elements in Empedocles' teaching. On the
other hand, Pythagorean unlimited space is analogous
to the Empedoclean elements.
2. The Pythagorean Dualistic World.1 The Pytha
goreans carried out their conception of this twofold
reality both in their mathematical studies and in their
conceptions of natural objects. It was from such inves
tigations that they were impressed by the dualism in
everything and so reached their principle. They ob
served in mathematics that the number-series consists
of alternate odd and even numbers. The odd numbers
are limited and the even unlimited (because they could
be divided). They explained the elements as deter
mined by mathematical forms: fire has the form of a
tetrahedron ; earth, of the cube ; air, of the octohedron ;
water, "of the icosahedron ; and an additional fifth ele
ment, the a3ther, of the dodecahedron. They carried this
dualism further by identifying the limited form with
the odd, with the perfect, and with the good ; while the
unlimited was identified with the even, the imperfect,
and the bad. Some of the Pythagoreans even sought to
trace out this dualism in the many realms of experience,
and they originated a table of ten pairs of opposites :
limited and unlimited ; odd and even ; one and many ;
right and left ; male and female ; rest and motion ;
1 Dualism : the belief that the world is to be explained by two mde*
pendent and coexistent principles.
62 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
straight and crooked ; light and dark ; good and bad ;
square and oblong.
There is a system in the Pythagorean theory not to
be found in the teaching of the other reconcilers. Al
though all the numbers, and with them all the world, are
jivided into two opposing classes, these are, neverthe
less, united in a harmony. The harmony of a dualism
reminds us of Heracleitus' harmony of antitheses. All
series of numbers have their unity and harmony in the
odd-even number, One. To the Pythagorean the oppo-
sites of life — the good and the bad, the limited and
unlimited, the perfect and imperfect, the odd and even
— exist in an harmonious whole.
As the Pythagorean school grew in years, the realms
to which it applied its theory increased. While we
have stated its metaphysical theory first in order to
give it prominence, the school came to the formulation
of its theory through its investigations in mathematics,
music, and astronomy. Then it applied the theory to
geometrical structures and to other fields with a pro
cedure that was arbitrary and unmethodical. Yet so
universal was the application of the theory that it lived
to have superstitious authority for the human mind in
the Middle Ages.
3. Pythagorean Astronomy. The formation of the
world-all began from the One, or central fire, which
attracted and limited the nearest portions of the unlim
ited. This fire became the centre of the world-all, which
had the shape of a hollow globe. Around the central
fire the celestial bodies move in globular transparent
shells. Their movements are concentric to the fire. This
is the beginning of the astronomical theory of the crys
talline spheres. The world-all is divided into three
PLURALISM 53
concentric portions. The periphery or outer rim ia
Olympus, where all is perfection and where the gods
dwell. Between Olympus and the moon is Cosmos,
where all is orderly and all movements are in circles.
Between the moon and the central fire is the region
called Uranus, where all is disorderly and the move
ments are up and down. The earth is in this lower
section of disorder, and moves in a transparent globular
shell like the celestial bodies around the central fire.
The number of the heavenly bodies is the perfect num
ber, ten. The world-all is conceived as a heavenly hep
tachord, with the orbits of the seven planets as the
sounding strings. Upon this notion was founded the
harmony of the spheres, which harmony is not heard
by man because it is constant. In modifying this astro
nomical theory and then accepting it, the most impor
tant change that Aristotle made was to conceive the
earth as at the centre of the world-all with the sua
revolving about it. This was the form in which the
Ptolemaic astronomers received it.
Historical Retrospect. In these many searchings of
the Cosmologists for a reality amid the changes of
nature, what result can be found significant for the Cos-
mological Period and valuable as a bequest for the
following periods? Are these crude scientific specula
tions of the early Greeks to be looked upon as out of
connection with their own age and the age to come ?
The Cosmological philosophy had two definite results. In
the first place, with reference to its own century and a
half, it saved the intellectual world ol_Qieece from the
slavery of a mystio. rfiliginn. W^hen we started with
Thales in 625 B. C., we saw Greece confronted with
two perils. One was political, and consisted of internecine
54 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
troubles and of danger from its warlike neighbors.
This peril grew still greater, until at the very end of
the period it was averted at the battle of Salamis.
Greek arms banished this political peril. But the other
peril was subjective and therefore more menacing. The
mysteries_flf the Onhio religion would have qnp.Tio.Tipd
the Greek genius had not its rational philosophy given
the Greek intellectual life new conceptions. In the next
place, it Jap^uejit^_J»^^
well-drawn contrast between a world of intellectual
6rder~an3Ta world of sensuous disorder. T"TEeTh6ugIit z>f \
an order in Mature irTconformityTo^aw was developed /
into clearness in the Cosmological Period. The order ^
was obtained from the astronomical studies of these
scientists. Reasoning from the order that they saw, to an
ordering principle, Anaxagoras and the Pythagoreans
almost, but not quite, gave to that principle a teleological
meaning. The principle of permanence that these nature
scientists sought was found in the great and simple re
lations of the stars, whose revolutions are the expression
of order and constancy. Impregnated as they were with
their elemental hylozoism, the Greek Cosmologists were
as yet not quite able to find an orderly permanence in
the terrestrial world with its manifold and intersecting
motions. Yet Greek thought was looking forward. The
Cosmologist had already contrasted the terrestrial asu
the imperfect with the celestial as the perfect peace and]
permanence. The step was but a short one from the
contrast of the two realms to the effort to bring them
into a unity. Thus in this astronomical and concrete
form a distinction of value was obtained that had last
ing ethical and assthetical significance, not only upon
Plato and Aristotle, but upon modern thought.
CHAPTER IV
THE ANTHROPOLOGICAL PERIOD (490-399 B. C.): THE
PHILOSOPHY OF MAN
An Historical Summary of the Anthropological Pe
riod. The Anthropological Period begins with the
Persian Wars, 490 and 480 B. C. After the battle of
Marathon there sprang up a distinct impulse toward
knowledge all over Greece ; and detailed investigations
were begun in mathematics, astronomy, biology, medi
cine, history, and physics. Science, which had up to this
time been unorganized and undifferentiated, now became
sharply divided into the special sciences. But what
makes the Persian Wars of particular importance is
that they are the starting-point in the motherland of the
movement in the study of man and human relations.
The battle of Marathon does not therefore mark the
end of the Cosmological movement and the waning of
the Greeks' interest in science ; but it marks rather the
beginning in Athens of the Anthropological movement.
The Cosmological and the Anthropological Periods
overlap.
The Anthropological Period easily divides itself into
three epochs from the point of view of its political
affairs : —
1. The Persian Wars, 490 and 480 B. c.
2. The Age of Pericles, 467-428 B. c.
3. The Peloponnesian Wars, 432-403 B. c.
The first epoch is the birth and the last epoch the de
cadence of pure Greek civilization, while the thirty-nin*
66 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
years of the supremacy of Pericles cover the ripest
period of Greek life. In this connection it is well to
mention Hegel's thought that nations do not ripen in
tellectually until they begin to decay politically (" The
owl of Minerva does not start upon its flight until the
evening twilight has begun to fall "). Plato and Aris
totle do not come until after this period, when Greek
political life had begun to wane.
The following table is a partial list of the notable
men of the period, with the date of their birth : —
JEschylus, 525 Anaxagoras, 500.
(dramatist before Pericles). Empedocles, 495.
Sophocles, 495 Protagoras, 480.
(dramatist during Age of Peri- Democritus, 470. y
cles). Sophists (many),
Phidias, 490. 450-350.
Euripides, 480 Socrates, 469.
(dramatist of the Sophistic and Antisthenes, 440,
the new learning). Aristippus, 435.
Herodotus, 475. Plato, 427.
Thucydides, 471.
Xenophon, 430 ?
Aristophanes, 444.
The Persian Wars and the Rise of Athens. Tho
blow that had been impending over Greece during the
sixth century had been struck, but had been averted in
the Persian Wars of 490 B. c. and 480 B. c. The power
ful and splendidly organized " barbaric neighbor," who
had threatened the civilization of the Greek cities of
Asia Minor for so many years, had swept over the Helles
pont into Greece and had been turned back. It has
been pointed out1 that the Persian Wars were only one
1 Wheeler, History of Alexander the Great.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF MAN 57
of a series of conflicts between Oriental and Occidental
civilizations ; and that the strip of Asia Minor along
the Mediterranean has always been a disputed border
land between irreconcilable hemispheres. First was the
mythical invasion of Troy; then the Persian Wars;
then came the arms of Alexander conquering Persia ;
then the invasion of the Mohammedans to the very walls
of Tours ; then the Crusades ; and to-day we still have
the eternal Eastern question with us. While each of
these conflicts was momentous for Europe, none was
more important in its issues for the world than the Per
sian Wars. For *J1™U£[LJJIP^ wflTS did Greece first
come to a consciousness ofjiejrself.. Neyej before did
nnit.pfl strmigtfr, — the greatness of her
inherited instincts*. TheJlfi^cautui^UBL^^
ioHS. niomentjof Greece^ if not of the world.
Classic Greece — the Greece whose thought became
fundamental to western civilization — was born from
the Persian Wars.
The centre of gravity of the Greek world was shifted
after the Persian Wars from Miletus to Athens, from
the colonies to the motherland. Indeed, the history of
classic Greece is almost entirely the history of Athens.
Of the large cities of Greece, — Corinth, ^Egina, Sparta,
and Thebes, — Athens was naturally the locality where
Grecian civilization would centre when the commercial
and maritime colonies fell. The Ionian race, by whom it
had been settled, was a mixed race, and by nature very
versatile. Before the Persian Wars it had been under
the wise tyranny of ^Pislstratna^gko took the first steps
toward_tlie_jfoundiijg jof .^n__Aih£maj^jejn^ire. In the
period between the two wars, Themis tocles had built the
Athenian fleet and thereby made Athens the great mari-
58 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
time and naval centre of Greece. There was, indeed, every
reason why Athens and not some other Grecian city
should become the new centre of classic Greece. The
Spartans were oligarchical, stern, unintellectual, and
offensive to strangers ; the people of Thebes were held
under a strict aristocratic government, the people of
Thessaly were aristocratic, luxurious, and stagnant ; but
the Athenians were democratic, social to strangers, lit
erary, liberal, frugal, and alert. After the Persian Wars
the power of the Delian confederacy became more and
more centralized in the city of Athens. Controlling the
fleet of the Confederacy for her own defense and using
the rich treasury of the Confederacy for her own munici
pal improvements, Athens under the brilliant rule of
Pericles, who summoned scholars and artists from all
Greece, was the only city of Greece where the Renais
sance of Greece was possible. Athens had become the
eye of Greece, and the following description of the Greek
Renaissance is especially significant in regard to her.
The Greek Enlightenment. Following the Persian
Wars there arose throughout Greece a great national
intellectual movement. The years mark the Greek Re
naissance, the Age of Pericles, and the time when the
Greek masterpieces in literature and plastic art were
produced. Perhaps the greatest Greek production was
Athens itself, whose cultural influence was personified
in the scholar-politician, Pericles.
1. The Impulse for Learning. In the first place
there was a general impulse throughout Greece for edu
cation. Everybody seemed to want to know what the
schools of Cosmologists had had to say about science.
The Greeks now had wealth and therefore leisure ; they
had come into contact with the Oriental peoples and
THE PHILOSOPHY OF MAN 59
therefore they had their curiosity excited. Learning,
which had been confined in the Cosmological Period to
a few scholars in the schools, now came forth into the
market place. Learning in the fifth century B. c. was
drawn from the schools into publicity. The objects of
interest had greatly widened and the learning of the
scholars began to filter into the general consciousness.
Whereas in the sixth century philosophy was a matter
between learned men, in the fifth century we find Soc
rates and the Sophists teaching whosoever would listen.
2. TJie Practical Need of Knowledge. But mere curi
osity will not entirely explain the Greek intellectual
movement. There had grown up an imperative practical
need for knowledge. In Athens and other Greek cities
the democracy of the fifth century B. c. had supplanted
the tyranny of the sixth century. Duty and inclination
together forced the citizen into active participation in
public affairs. In these democratic cities family tradi
tion and character were no longer sufficient for success ;
but it became generally recognized that the most useful
and successful man was the educated man. The com
plex relations existing between states and between the
citizens in the states made education absolutely neces
sary for the politician. Nowhere was the need of an
education more imperative than in Athens ; nowhere
was the need more easily filled. In a very short time
after the Persian Wars the social position of science
changed to one of power ; and the inner character of
science changed from the study of nature to the study
of ethical and political problems. Scientists became
teachers of eloquence, for the citizen now needed to be
an orator and a rhetorician. Statesmen and generals
must know how to persuade. Courts of law were pub-
60 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
lie, their proceeding oral, and personal attendance was
therefore required. There was no man in Athens who
might not be condemned, if he could not personally in
court refute falsehoods and disentangle sophistries.
Besides, to be beaten in debate was as disgraceful in
the eyes of the public as to lose one's cause.
Two classes of men, with an importance hitherto un
known, appear in Greek history, — the rhetoricians and
the dialecticians. Rhetoric was public oratory, necessary
for the public defense of one's rights, or for the main
tenance of one's dignity, or for the gratification of one's
ambition. The dialectic was, on the other hand, argument
employed in private..b.etagfi£gLt wo persons, usually friends,
to unraYel^ji-ribacurity, to re_duce an ppppnent_tp_silence,
to exercise one's self in the mastery of a subject,. or_lo-
siftevidence, The dialectic, therefore, became a distinct
mental pursuit for men who had a natural defect in
public speaking or rhetoric. Besides rhetoric and dia
lectic, there grew up somewhat later what was called
the eristic. Juristic was polemical argument consisting
of catch-phrases and logical subtleties. It was taught as
an art of adroit argument.
The great Greek tragedies occupy a place in the de
velopment of the dialectic and the satisfying of the need
of knowledge. Science, through the drama, transformed
the old religious views and brought its new interpreta
tion to the common people. The development of the
fifth-century drama out of the epic of the sixth century
was not merely a change in architectonic, but a trans
formation of its ethical and religious spirit. The germ
was in the previous ethics, lyrics, and gnomics, yet it was
fully amplified in the drama. Instead of a summary of
deeds the tragic poet makes his characters talk, defend,
THE PHILOSOPHY OF MAN 61
refute, accuse, lament, etc. This gives rise to exigen
cies that require the dialectic. In the conflicting duties
and in the justification of the wrong done by the wrong
suffered, dialectical skill is called for in the drama to
weigh the ethical motives in a manner that the epic
does not demand. Thus the drama of -ZEschylus, Sopho
cles, and Euripides was a link between the lyric and
gnomic poetry of the sixth century B. c. and the dia
logue literature of Plato.*
3. The, Critical Attitude of Mind. The most im
portant characteristic of this period is neither the in
tensified social curiosity nor the increased social needs.
It is rather ethical in its character. It is the "critical"
or " individualistic " attitude of mind. This began with
the " free city feeling " — the consciousness of the free
man in a free state — in the first half of the fifth cen
tury B. c., and developed rapidly into individualism and
critical skepticism toward the end of that century.
If one were to compare in a single word the history
of Greece before the Persian Wars with that after the
Persian Wars, he would say that the former was tra
ditional and the latter was critical. Nevertheless, at the
beginning of the Cosinological Period Greek traditional
customs were being weakened by attacks upon them.
Religious ideas were threatened by the Cosmologists.
The subordination of the gods to the cosmic substance
was an attack upon the established polytheism of the
Epic, and the attack became direct in the hands of
Xenophanes. It was " the divestiture of Nature of its
gods by science." The Mysteries were a part of this
departure from the traditional religion. But the new
and more critical scientific attitude toward traditional
* Read Grote, History of Greece, vol. viii, pp. 334-347.
62 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
religion was only incidental to the growing criticism of
law. In the days of the oligarchy there were two self-
evident political assumptions : (1) that law has validity
because it is law ; (2) that obedience to law is for one's
advantage. When, however, the political disturbances
began, a self-conscious individualism developed among
the Greeks. The Gnomic Poets had been the first to
appeal to the individual consciousness of the people.
All through the sixth century B. c. Greece had stern ex
periences, and the individual found himself questioning
the sanctity of tradition and of time-honored laws.
There was no longer a tacit acquiescence in established
order, and the claims of authority were no longer, as
formerly, unchallenged. Confidence in political assump
tions began to waver, and a critical attitude was taken
toward laws which changed from year to year. The
appearance everywhere of the tyrant, the vigorous per
sonality who could set up his will against the will of
a traditional aristocracy, impressed the age with the
power of individual egoism. The seat of authority was
shifted from tradition to the individual reason, and all
institutions were brought under individual criticism.
The Persian Wars mark the point of transition from
the traditional attitude to the critical attitude of the
Greek mind. In themselves the Persian Wars were a
great moral uplift, and were a return for a time to the
traditional institutions. The changes long since begun
were suspended for a time in the united effort of the
Greek nation. But the tendencies became more insist
ent when the danger was past. The Persian Wars had
cleared the atmosphere of its pessimism and had given
freedom to the intellectual movement. Then later, in
the heat of that intellectual movement, individualism
THE PHILOSOPHY OF MAN 63
and criticism came to fullest fruitage. Doubt grew
into positive skepticism.
In the last part of the fifth century B. c., critical skep
ticism became universal. In religion the anthropomor
phism of the Epic passes under ridicule. Critias declares
that the gods are the invention of shrewd statecraft.
In literature the Epic, in which the gods interfere in
all human details, yields to the naturalistic descrip
tions of Herodotus and Thucydides, and to the per
sonal note of lyric and satirical poetry. More impor
tant than all was the change of attitude toward the
laws. Instead of the law having a divine authority, vhtf
individual placed himself above it and sat in judgmenc
upon it. The tribal conception of guilt, that when a
member of a tribe sinned the whole tribe would suffer
at the hands of the gods, had given way at the time of
the Persian Wars to that of personal responsibility
and retribution. It was noted that laws change in
the same state, that they differ in different states, and
that moral customs have a great variety. All laws seem
therefore to be made by man, and the question then
arose, Is there any law which has universal validity ?
Is there any real prius or " Nature " of laws? In the
Anthropological Period, the important question was
about the real prius or " Nature " of human institu
tions,^ just as in the Cosmological Period the question
was about the real prius or " Nature " of the world of
physical phenomena. Yet the question of the Anthro
pologists was a part of the Cosmological problem. The
Cosmologists had called the real prius or " Nature "
(<£uVis), that which ever remains like itself, and it is
now asked if " Nature " in itself contains any unchang
ing and eternal politico-moral law. The contrast is thus
64 HISTORY OP PHILOSOPHY
drawn for all time between natural law and statute
law, and the distinction dominates this period. Human
legal institutions were regarded as only makeshifts,
and often even as contradicting the divine law. The
conflict between natural or divine law and human law
appears worked out in the Antigone of Sophocles.
The same interest in the foundations of morality and
moral relations opened up the whole subject of the
power of human consciousness to discern such relations.
It was a logical necessity that turned thought from a
review of man's relations with his fellows to a criti
cism of his own constitution. What is man? What
are his faculties ? Has he any that give him the truth
and the reality? Or do they all deceive him so that he
cannot detect the real from the sham of life ? What
are the mental faculties used in disputation, and how
are they to be trained so that man may rise to an emi
nence of culture among his fellows ? The Greek thus
turned to a criticism of his knowing faculties, and the
positive social and moral demands made such a criti
cism necessary to his well-being. Greek science took
a strong anthropological direction, and logic, ethics,
psychology, rhetoric, etc., took the place of natural sci
ence subjects. The Greek in the fifth century B. c. was
interested in man — in his inner activities, his ideations
and volitions. Of this critical and individualistic atti
tude Euripides is the literary exponent ; Pericles is the
political personification ; Socrates and the Sophists are
its philosophical expression.
The Significance of the Sophists. The Sophists were
the direct means of bringing this intellectual change
into Greek life. They were the bearers of this Greek
Enlightenment, and they were the missionaries that
THE PHILOSOPHY OF MAN 65
spread its influence far and wide. This significance of
the Sophists to the culture of Greece was never under
stood by the historian until Hegel set them in their
true light. The dark side of their character has been
painted in blackest colors, so that the word " Sophist "
has carried an opprobrium with it. They were, how
ever, the exponents of the Greek illumination, and not
the cause of it. They therefore share all its weaknesses
and its excellencies ; and any judgment upon them is a
judgment upon the time itself. The most accurate de
scription of them is that they were the exponents of
QlgejLCulture in the age of Perjcleg. ; the worst that can
be said of them is that they stimulated the Greek spirit
in directions in which it should have been controlled.
Their true work was to carry the gospel of Greek indi
vidualism everywhere ; their fault lay in the fact that
too frequently they confused individualism with hypoc
risy, and led their hearers to believe that appearance
knowledge is the same as true knowledge.
The word " Sophist" had a development among the
Greeks. It first meant a wise man (the Cosmologists,
from Thales to Anaxagoras, were Sophists) ; then a
teacher of wisdom ; then a paid teacher of wisdom.
Moreover, among the Sophists there is a difference be
tween the early Sophists, who were inspired by a distinct
desire to spread culture, and the later Sophists, who
were mercenary teachers, and had on that account de
generated into mere quibblers. In general, the ground
of the contemporary hostility to the Sophists was the
hatred of the conservative and reactionary party, to
which belonged Aristophanes the satirist, 2Eschylus
" the father of tragedy," and the exponent of institu
tional morals, and Xenophon, who stood for a complete
66 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
return to a patriarchal state. This party was very bit»
ter against the exponents of the new and radical spirit
springing up in Greece. All the philosophers of the
new learning, including Socrates, suffered at the hands
of those who would conserve the old traditions. In par
ticular, the accusations against the Sophists of this
period were : they were cavilers ; they taught for pay ;
they represented the universalizing of education against
the old aristocracy; they menaced institutions.
The Sophists were then primarily and, on the whole,
the transmitters to the people of the culture of the
time. They were the teachers of the humanities to that
age. They were not technically philosophers, but were
interested in philosophical questions. Protagoras was
the only Sophist who was the author of any fruitful
philosophical conceptions. Gorgias made occasional
essays into philosophy. But besides Protagoras and
Gorgias no other Sophists can be classed as philoso
phers, except possibly Hippias and Prodicus.
The Sophists introduced a profusion of knowledge
among the people. They made investigations in lan
guage, logic, and the theory of cognition. They taught
literature, history, grammar, the principles of the dia
lectic, the eristic, and rhetoric — all subjects concerned
with the art of human expression. They studied and
taught the special subjects concerned with human re
lations, like ethics, the theory of knowledge, psychology,
and politics. Anything that had a place in Greek cul
ture was systematically and skillfully presented by such
men as Protagoras, Gorgias, Hippias, and Prodicus,
who were men of encyclopedic erudition. The Sophist
took the education of the Greek child at the age of six
teen, after he had received his elementary training, first
THE PHILOSOPHY OF MAN" 67
at home and then at the hands of the teacher at school.
The Greek boy's education was naturally divided into
two parts : gymnastics for the body and music for the
soul. Under music was included geometry, performance
on the lyre, pronunciation, the chorus and poetry, as
tronomy, physics, and geography. At the age of sixteen
he got his instruction by meeting public men, such as the
Sophists, in the street, in the Agora, and other public
places. It was at this period of his life that the Sophist
took his education into those higher branches which
were necessary for his success in politics, society, and
law. Thus the instruction of the Sophist was usually
for a specific purpose, and thus rhetoric, dialectic, and
the mental sciences were in great demand.
The Prominent Sophists. The list of Sophists is
a long one. The first to call himself a Sophist and a
teacher of public virtue was, according to Plato, Pro
tagoras of Abdera. He was also probably the most
eminent of the number. He was born about 480 B. c.
Polus and Thrasymachus were the last ; and Aristotle
mentions the Sophists as in the past. So that we may
conclude that as a band they existed only one hun
dred years (450-350 B. c.). Already at the beginning
of the fourth century (400 B. c.) their importance had
greatly diminished. In this hundred years we find some
fourteen or fifteen prominent Sophists. There is, first,
Protagoras, whose theory of knowledge is not only in
itself a contribution to thought, but also of importance
as a factor in forming the materialist atomistic doctrine
of the school of Abdera, — the school of Leucippus and
Democritus ; Gorgias of Leontini, the head of an em
bassy T6~ Athens, a man of eloquence, whose style was
imitated by Thucydides and whom we might have stud-
68 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
ied in connection with the Eleatic school, for he carried
out still further the doctrines of Zeno ; Prodicus, the
pupil of Protagoras and Gorgias, a brilliant man and a
traveler, whose method of instruction was used by Soc
rates ; Hippias, contemporary of Prodicus, remarkable
for his mathematical, physical, and historical erudition,
&nd a man full of vanity ; the brothers, Euthydemus
and Dionysiodorus, teachers of eristic ; the rhetorician
Thrasymachus and the rhetoricians of the school of
Gorgias, viz., Polus, Lycophron, Protarchus, and Al-
cidamus ; Evenus, rhetorician, moralist, and poet ; Cri-
tias, the leader of the thirty ; Callicles and Hippoda-
mus.
Many of these men were reformers. Some (as Alcid-
amus) were opposed jto the institution of slavery in
Greece ; some to marriage ; some (as Lycophron) to the
nobility ; some to the inequality of property ; while
Hippodamus was the first to propose an ideal state.
The method of argumentation employed by the Soph
ists was first to perplex and confuse their opponents as
to what had been taken in the past as valid. Then they
made their opponents ridiculous by drawing out conse
quences from their statements. Their conclusions were
often verbal and their witticisms vulgar.*
The Philosophy of the Sophists. The philosophy of
the Sophists was only the logical following out of the
general attitude of the time toward all traditions. The
more the old physical theories fell into disrepute, the
more the changes of the world of politics seemed to in
dicate instability everywhere, the more opinions differed
on the same subject, — so much the more did the possi-
* Read H. Jackson in Encyclopedia Britannica, article
" Sophists."
THE PHILOSOPHY OF MAN 69
bility present itself to the Sophists of taking two con-
tradictories as equally true, and so much the faster did
the whole Greek world lose faith in any valid truth and
in any certain knowledge. The dogmatism of the Cos-
inological Period is thus naturally followed by the
skepticism of the Anthropological. Beginning with the
cautious and enlightened relativism of Protagoras, there
grew up a volume of criticism, until the later Sophists
applied destructive doctrines to everything. The best
representatives of the philosophical aspect of the So
phistic movement were Protagoras and Gorgias.
i. The Relativism of Protagoras. Although theo
retically skepticism is the centre and logical result of
the Sophistic movement, the teaching of the greatest
Sophist, Protagoras, cannot be strictly called skepti
cism. Philosophically, skepticism is not the denial of
this or that particular belief as true, but the denial of
the existence of any truth whatever. Protagoras refused
to make any positive statements — either in denial or
affirmation — about ultimate truth, because, as he said,
we have no insight whatever into the nature of absolute
truth. Our knowledge is confined to motions and the
phenomena of motion. His teaching would be called in
modern times relativism or phenomenalism. The funda
mental principle beneath such a doctrine is that know
ledge is human — never absolute, but always relative.
The relativism of Protagoras was based on two prin
ciples : the first is that of universal change, which he
borrowed from Heracleitus ; the second is, so far as we
know, original with Protagoras, — that sense-perception
is the only source and only kind of knowledge. In
Heracleitus' doctrine change is universal, each term of a
series of changes passing into another. The senses are a
70 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
part of this flux, and since they are, according to Protag
oras, the only source of knowledge, knowledge is ephem
eral and unreal. Reason is extended and continued sen
sation. A movement external to the organism stimulates
an organ of the body and is met by a reacting movement
of the organ. The result is perception. Perception being
itself a process, each present moment of perception is
the only knowledge. We cannot know things as they
are in themselves ; there is no insight into the Being of
things over and above our perceptions. On the contrary,
reality is not only what it perceptually appears for each
individual, but also what it appears at each individual
momentary perception.
What is the result of such a theory of knowledge ?
Protagoras expresses it well in his famous words, " Man
is the measure of all things." It is absolute sensational
ism. There is no truth except that of the present mo
ment. Each man sees the truth for himself at the
moment of his perception. It does not matter if another
has a different perception. It does not matter if at the
next moment his perception differs. Each perception
exists at the moment, is true, and at that moment is the
only perception. There are as many truths as there are
individuals, as many as there are moments in an indi
vidual's life. Each individual is the measure of the true,
the beautiful, and the good ; for a thing that is good or
true to one man may be harmful or false to another.
Metaphysical discussions are vain, for the only reality
to prove is the content of the present moment. All
causes and ultimate criteria are impossible to be known.
2. The Nihilism of Gorgias. As the philosophy of
Protagoras teaches that everything is equally true, that
of Gorgias teaches that everything is equally false.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF MAN 71
Gorgias declared that Being, knowledge, and the com
munication of knowledge are impossible. Starting from
the dialectic of the Eleatic, Zeno (as Protagoras started
from that of Heracleitus), Gorgias maintained: (1)
Nothing is ; (2) If anything is, it cannot be thought ;
(3) Even if it can be thought, it cannot be communi
cated. The knowledge of the thing is different from the
thing ; the expression of the thought in words is differ
ent from the thought itself.
The Ethics of the Sophists. — The Application of
their Critical Theory to Political Life. The ethical-
political life was. of paramount importance to the
Greek. When the later Sophists began to scrutinize
it from the point of view of the individual, their
skepticism became a direct menace to Greek polit
ical institutions. The individual became a law unto
himself, and the citizen set himself up as superior to
society. Since the time of the Gnomic poets the con
tent of both moral and political laws had become more
and more a subject of reflection ; and at the time of
the Sophists the whole foundation of law was called in
question. When the individual man is declared to be
the measure of all things, all legal and moral institu
tions hang in the balance. All rules of conduct and all
laws become then artificial and merely conventional
products ; and just as there is no standard of truth or
error in knowledge, so there is no standard of good
citizenship or morality. The good man is the prudent
man ; the good citizen is the successful and powerful
man. Might is right.
Thus the Sophists came to teach such doctrines as
these : Laws are made by the strongest, represent their
will, and must be obeyed if they cannot be disobeyed ;
72 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
it takes a strong man to make a law, but a stronger to
break it ; the laws are only conventions invented either
by the many to restrain the powerful few, or by the few
to enslave the many. Even religions are devices of the
crafty to enchain the people. Obedience to law is there
fore a matter of personal interest. Happiness is the
most important consideration of the individual. Some
times personal interest conflicts with law and law does
not then bring happiness, for criminals are often the
most happy. It is not obedience to law that brings
happiness but (Polus) a shrewd calculation of ends
with no regard to right or law. The Sophists made no
attempt to put their theories into execution. They ex
pressed the sentiments of the Greek people, and Greek
public opinion then pointed to segregation and indi
vidualism. Plato said that, after all, the Greek public
was the great Sophist.
It was thus that the distinction arose between positive
law and natural law. Reflecting upon the differences
among the constitutions of the Greek states and upon
the constant alterations in these constitutions, the
Sophist concluded that the greater part of them were
of human invention. They were positive laws and were
to be contrasted with natural law, which was such law
as is binding on all men equally. Natural law is there
fore of greater worth than positive law, and is set in
antithesis to it. Sir Henry Maine says in his Ancient
Law that the Greeks did not found any system of
jurisprudence, because natural law was always referred
to by them in arguing any question. The only way to
find natural law is to strip it of the mass of conven
tional laws. The word " nature " has been in its his
tory one of the most ambiguous of words; and Protag-
THE PHILOSOPHY OF MAN 73
eras' teaching that " nature " consists of primary ethical
feelings is hardly a complete and satisfactory definition.
The more the theory of the Sophists limited " nature "
to human nature, and to human nature in its capricious
and individual aspects, so much the more did statute
laws appear antagonistic to natural law and seem to be
detrimental to it.
Summary.
1. Although a skepticism and a criticism, Sophistry
was a relative advance over the traditionalism and dog
matism of the Cosmologists.
2. Sophistry turned the attention to man and his
interests as the principal object of inquiry.
3. The Sophists stood for freedom of thought by
pointing to individual consciousness as the final court
of appeal.
4. Although the Sophists differed very much in their
teaching, they had a mutual dependence and common
presuppositions.
5. The Sophists disregarded the likenesses and em*
phasized the differences among men.
6. The Sophists built up their doctrines upon the
basis of a sensationalist psychology.
CHAPTER V
SOCRATES (469-399 B.C.).
Socrates and Aristophanes. There were two ways
in which the other elements in Greek society tried to
meet the Sophists. One was led by Aristophanes, the
other by Socrates. Aristophanes was a rich nobleman
who looked back with pride upon the good old times.
He would have a government of the best rather than
of the many. He would destroy the Sophistic move
ment, and he wrote many satires upon Greek life with
that end in view. His satire, The Clouds, is of especial
interest in this connection. Socrates represents the
other way in which the Sophistic movement was met.
He accepted the Sophistic movement, but he read more
deeply into it than the Sophists themselves, and he tried
to find its truth.
The extraordinary personality of Socrates is the cen
tral figure in this age of critical inquiry. For the first
time do we find philosophy centred in a great person
ality, and there is no more picturesque figure in his
tory. The exposition of his doctrines is essentially a
biography. He wrote nothing himself, and the literary
sources of his life and teaching are found in Xeno-
phon's Memorabilia and Symposium, in the writings
of Plato, and in those of Aristotle. They throw differ
ent lights upon his character, and together give a fairly
complete picture. Xenophon records the sober, practi
cal, and popular side of Socrates, caught in casual con
versation. Plato idealizes Socrates, especially in his
SOCRATES 75
later writings, and he reveals Socrates' character on its
imaginative and spiritual sides. Aristotle is more dis
criminating and less sympathetic, but always reliable
because he is a generation removed. *
The Personality and Life of Socrates. Alcibiades
described Socrates as like the little cases sold upon the
streets of Athens, which were made in the shape of
Silenus and contained a carved image. The description
was apt, for Socrates had a fine spiritual nature within
an astonishing shell. He was short, stout, and thick-set,
with his head set upon his shoulders. His eyes were
* The student should read the following references in
Plato's dialogues and Xenophon's Symposium and Memora
bilia. The translations referred to here are Jowett's Plato
and Cooper, Spelman, etc., translation, Whole Works of
Xenophon. (1851.)
For the method of Socrates, read Charmides, Lysis, and
Laches.
For the personal appearance of Socrates, read Plato, Sym°
posium, pp. 586 ff. and Xenophon, Symposium, p. 615.
For the physical endurance of Socrates, read Plato, Sym*
posium, p. 591.
For Socrates' dislike of nature, read Plato, Phcedrus, pe
435, and Xenophon, Memorabilia, p. 521.
For the charges, defense, and trial of Socrates, read Plato,
Apology, pp. 116 and 129.
For the confinement of Socrates in prison, read Crito,
beginning and end of the dialogue.
For description of the death scene of Socrates, read Plato,
Phcedo, beginning and end of the dialogue.
For description of the daemoniacal sign, read Plato, Apology ;
pp. 125-126, and Xenophon, Memorabilia, pp. 531 ff.,
585 ff.
For the oracle's statement that Socrates is the wisest of
men, read Plato, Apology, p. 114.
76 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
bulging, his nose flat with upturned nostrils, his mouth
big and grinning, and his beard disordered. His pro
truding belly was set upon slender legs, and his dress
was slovenly. Nevertheless his geniality, his fine humor,
the unselfishness which he manifested unstintedly toward
his friends, exercised an irresistible charm upon all the
remarkable personalities of his time. Over the Athe
nian youth his influence was very great, and he sur
rounded himself with a large circle of admirers, to the
neglect of his home cares and his wife Xantippe. While
the habit of the Sophists was to talk in private and for
pay, Socrates was distinguished from all his contempo
raries by the fact that he would talk in the public
places with any one, rich or poor, and without remuner
ation.
His life had its ascetic side. He was frugal in his
needs. He went barefoot, summer and winter, and his
clothing was the scantiest. He was abstemious in food
and drink. While on occasion at the feast he would
drink more wine than any one else, yet he never was
seen intoxicated. The ascetic side of his nature is seen
in his refusal to cultivate gymnastics, because such
training required much food. He tried to limit his
wants. He was a model of hardiness, self-denial, and
self-mastery, as many an anecdote will show. " No one
ever saw or heard anything wicked in Socrates," said
Xenophon. " So pious was he that he never did any
thing without first consulting the Gods, so master of
himself as never to prefer pleasure to goodness, so sen
sible as never to err in the choice between the better
and the worse. In a word, he was the best and the most
happy of men."
At times Socrates seems intellectually stiff and pro-
SOCRATES 77
saic. This may have been incidental to his asceticism,
or the result of it. He was indifferent to the sensuous,
and he explained the beautiful in terms of the useful.
He refused to walk out because trees and flowers could
teach him nothing. Art offered no suggestions to him,
for it is useless even if it is inspired. His unpoetic and
prosy nature was perhaps not due so much to his lack
of taste as to his original mind overflowing with ideas.
He was not perceptive, but reflective. He said that as
tronomy is a mystery, geometry is land measuring, which
any man can do, arithmetic is merely permissible, and
physics something to be neglected. " Ye may judge how
unprofitable these studies are by seeing how men differ
among themselves." He was once found dancing at
home by himself when he was expected to be at a dance
with others, and his practical nature is also revealed in
the fact that at the feast he was reminded of its utility.
The influence of Socrates' daemon or divine voice
upon him is very interesting. He felt himself divinely
called by his daemon (Apology, 29, 33 f.) to unremit
ting labor in the moral perfecting of society through
an examination of himself and his fellows. Socrates
was moved by a deep religious feeling in all that he
undertook. This divine leading is what he designates
as his daemon. He speaks of it as " the God " or " the
gods " which speaks to other men through the oracles.
This divine voice was ever with him, but as to specific
actions it only warned him against the injudicious ac
tion, never incited him to the correct action. Specifi
cally it did not tell him what to do so much as what
not to do. When he was about to prepare a defense
beforehand that he should make to the judges, his
daemon interposed, and so he relied upon the inspira*
78 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
tion of the moment. On one of his campaigns he was
observed to stand in communion with the daemon the
whole day, unmindful of the weather.
As to the education and intellectual training of Soc
rates, one must say that it formed a factor of less im
portance in his life. The uniqueness of Socrates'
character is only in small measure to be accounted for
by his environment. He was one of those men who
would have been great in any time. He got but little
from his father, who was a sculptor, or from his mother,
who was a midwife. He was not strictly an educated
man, although he had the early education of an Athe
nian youth, and of course no one could grow up a citi
zen of Athens in the time of Pericles without absorbing
its culture. His formal education probably consisted
of music and gymnastics, and he was certainly familiar
with the preceding schools of philosophy. Socrates
lived a long life of contented poverty, and he dedicated
his life to the public. Two inherited instincts were
strong within him, which alone will account for his
career : (1) his strong religious persuasion that he was
acting under a mission from the gods ; (2) his great
intellectual originality, as shown in his teaching and in
his power over others.
There are few striking events in Socrates' career,
except his death. He was born in Athens in 469 B. c.
He began his divinely appointed work of redeeming
Athens from the dangerous tendencies of the Sophists
at the commencement of the Peloponnesian War. He
served in three campaigns as a soldier. He also acted,
when called upon, as prytanis, or lawgiver, although
he stood aloof from political activity. At the advanced
age of seventy he was accused of corrupting the youth
SOCRATES 79
and denying the gods. His life thus far would have
seemed to be one of unimpeachable moral and brilliant
intellectual monotony. But his death illuminates his
life and makes it heroic, because his death shows what
in reality his life was, — the tragic epitome of the Athe
nian social situation. His death was not due to him
self, although he could have escaped, nor to his judges,
although they could have acquitted him. It represents
the inevitable conflict between the Greek ideal of uni-
versalism and Greek individualism. Its value is there
fore historic. His particular accusers were actuated by
personal animosity. Behind them were many others
whom his efforts at reform and his bitter irony had
made hostile. Behind all was the voice of Athenian
conservatism against the Athenian culture movement.
The charges against Socrates were in part true, and be
sides as a moral reformer he had been a public nuisance.
Yet his death was a judicial murder. He was found
guilty by his judges. To the sentence of death proposed
by Meletus, one of his accusers, Socrates had the right
to propose an alternative sentence, and the judges must
.choose between the two. Had Socrates proposed a small
fine, it would probably have been accepted by the judges.
He proposed, however, that Athens provide for him
at the public expense, arrogant as he was in his com
placent sense of virtue. The judges then could do no
thing else than pronounce the sentence of death. This
was delayed thirty days on account of the sacrifice at
Delos. Even then Socrates could have easily escaped
from jail. But he refused to do the law a wrong, and
drank the hemlock in May, 399 B. c.
Professor G. H. Palmer points out the irony that
characterizes the life and death of Socrates. He stands
80 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
for the harmony of opposite qualities. He devoted
himself to the good of Athens, and yet Athens put him
to death. In the service of the eternal was he sacrificed,,
His own personality is an exemplification of this irony.
In appearance his un-Greek physical ugliness is in con
trast with his beautiful Greek soul ; he was the most
austere and yet the most sensitive of men ; he was al
ways a serious moralist and yet always a jester ; he was
scarcely out of Athens and yet he was a world's man ;
he was the world's philosopher and yet he had no system
of thought and left no writings.
Socrates and the Sophists. In his point of departure
Socrates is in entire agreement with the Sophists. He is
a critical philosopher. Criticism is the starting-point of
his philosophy as a whole, and he begins each particular
argument afresh with a critical examination of its
grounds. This means that he, like the Sophists, turns
to the individual reason as the final court of appeal.
Like them he refused to accept any traditional dogma
unexamined, and he commenced a critical inquiry into
all kinds of conceptions. Socrates and the Sophists are
one in the spirit of the Greek illumination in their
critical attack upon intellectual problems. Socrates'
famous saying that " virtue js_ knowledge " could
equally well be put into the mouth of Protagoras ; and
the doctrine of Protagoras that " man is the measure
of all things " could be ascribed to Socrates without
inconsistency.
In his conclusions in one respect Socrates arrives at
the same point as the Sophists, — but in only one re
spect. He_agrees with them as _tp_the .. worthlessness
^pfjhe i results of naturaLscifiiLce. Natural science can
not be worth while, because it does not lead to moral
SOCRATES 81
excellence.. The meagre results of the Cosmologists show
the worthlessness of natural science to man. In this one
respect Socrates' criticism leads him to skepticism like
the Sophists, — to a skepticism of natural science.
But in Jiis conclusions as to the value of human
nature, Socrates set himself entirely against the out
come of the reflections of the Sophists, and indeed of
his time. In the absorbing anthropological topics of his
time, he laid the foundations of a constructive philoso^
phy against the skeptical conclusions of the Sophists.
In human matters he maintained that there is a validity
to truth and a possibility of absolute knowledge. He
admitted with the Sophists that there are obscurities in
human thought, and that obviously the standard of truth
does not belong to any one man. But while the Sophists
emphasized these contradictions and reasoned therefore
that no valid truth existed, Socrates cut his way through
such contradictions and obscurities, emphasized^Jbhe
identity in men, and maintained that the truth is in all
men together, — in humanity. It exists as an ideal to
be striven for by men together. When Protagoras says
that " man is the measure of all things," he means by
" man " the individual man ; while Socrates, if he had
used that expression, would have meant " humanity."
And Socrates means by his principle " virtue is know
ledge " that the knowledge of that same humanity (£. e.
insight, reason) is virtue ; while Protagoras, agreeing as
he did formally with the maxim that " virtue is know
ledge," would always define " knowledge " as the in
dividual feelings. " The individual man is the measure
of all things," Protagoras would say ; " Humanity is
the measure of all things," Socrates would reply.
" Virtue is knowledge gained by the feelings," Protag-
82 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
oras would say ; " Virtue is knowledge gained by the
reason," Socrates would reply. Beneath the changing
capricious individual, beneath the variety of men, Soc
rates believed that there was a common humanity, one
unchanging man, who contained the ultimate truth.
There are many opinions, ideas, and feelings, but only
one knowledge. This knowledge is rational ; and human
nature is a unity in the possession of this knowledge.
This is the principle that distinguishes Socrates from
the other leaders of the Greek Illumination. While he
was imbued with the motives of the Greek culture of
his time, — curious about its results, feeling its useful
ness, and critical of all tradition, — he nevertheless
withheld himself from its skeptical conclusions. Any
culture illumination runs the danger of defeating itself
and becoming skeptical of its own powers. This is what
actually happened in the Sophistic philosophy. But
when Socrates set himself against this superficial and
self-destructive outcome of his age, he became in his
constructive philosophy the clearest and most compre
hensive expression of that age. Because he grasped the
principle of the Greek Enlightenment deeply and for
mulated it constructively, his intellectual reign became
historically established. The fundamental principle of
the philosophy of Socrates was therefore the real prin
ciple of classic Greek civilization, and by saving that
principle he saved Greek civilization for modern
Europe.
The Unsystematic Character of the Socratic Philo
sophy. The casual reader is often troubled to know
for what precisely Socrates is searching. The vague
ness of the Socratic quest is partly due to the fact that
he had no system. Indeed, he had no groundwork for
SOCRATES 83
a system of thought. His psychology or theory of the
human mind was undefined. He speaks of sensations
and perceptions, but they, with the feelings and the
will, are considered by him to be unimportant factors
in the conscious life. On the whole, the mind was
thought by him to be an aggregation of conceptions or
ideas. The feelings cloud the activity of these concep
tions, and the only feeling to which Socrates attached
any importance was his daemon or divine voice. This
grew to be his mentor as he grew older. Socrates never
made a scientific psychological analysis. He began
rather with three assumptions which amounted to con
victions. They were these : that only by acquiring con
ceptions is true knowledge to be found ; that virtue,
consists in acting according to conceptions; that the
world has been designed according to conceptions. Con
ceptions were, so to speak, an obsession with Socrates. *
They were his postulates, his instruments, and his goal.
The other factors of the mind were neglected by him.
The Ideal of Socrates. The goal of the quest of Soc
rates is an ideal, and in the nature of things had the
vagueness of any ideal. The content of an ideal has to
* What is the difference between perception and conception ? We
have heard a good deal about perceptions in the doctrine of Protagoras.
We have now reached a point where many of the theories will involve
a comparison of perception with conception. An understanding- of the
difference between perception and conception will be necessary for an
understanding of the doctrines, especially of Democritus, Plato, and
Aristotle. In general, perception is the consciousness of an object in
which some actual sensation of it is present ; a conception is the con
sciousness of an object in which no actual sensation of it is present.
Thus I perceive a tree, when my retina is actually stimulated ; I
conceive a tree, when I turn my head away and no sense organ is
actually stimulated, t. e. I do not touch, see, hear the tree. To the
Greek the perception was particular and transient ; the conception was,
on the other hand, universal or general anil permanent.
84 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
remain undefined until it has been gained by experience,
and then of course it is no longer an ideal. Any ideal,
however, can be stated formally, and the formal and
deductive side of knowledge has had an important
place both in practical conduct and in the history of
science. Socrates could state his ideal formally and to
some extent he could give it content ; but it always re
mained for him an object to be sought. He believed
that the ideal lay in conceptions and could be found if
he got the truth of any one conception. So he under
took to define such conceptions as friendship, courage,
prudence, etc., but his search was never satisfied.
Nevertheless, the search itself was scarcely less impor
tant to him than its accomplishment.
The ideal of
_
andjiis LJo.imal.j8tateinfiDJi.QlJlie__ ideal was
is Virtue. The primal end to be striven for is wisdom,
that is, in conceptions and by conceptions. But where
are these conceptions to be found but in one's own
mind ? Therefore the region of the quest of Socrates
was his own mind, and his motto was, " Know thyself."
And what is this Virtue of which knowledge or wisdom
is the equivalent? It does not mean virtue in the nar
row modern meaning of the term, nor yet in the narrow
original meaning, of warlike prowess or valor. The
Greek word which Socrates used was apcrrj, and is best
translated excellence or ability. In the history of the
word it had a variety of meanings, like the Latin word
virtus, whose equivalent it is. It is derived from the
same root as the word "Api??, Ares (or Mars), the name
of the god of war. While therefore originally it meant
military valor, it came to mean any kind of excellence.
In modern times there appeared a book called The
SOCRATES 85
Greatest Thing in the World, which had as its aim to
show that Christian love is the " greatest thing in the
world." To Socrates not " Love " but " Wisdom " is
the " greatest thing in the world," and Greek civiliza
tion is thus contrasted with that of Christianity.
But now the question comes, What kind of know
ledge or wisdom does Socrates mean as the greatest
excellence ? In contrasj^to_the Sophists^jwho rejied^upon
the sensations and impulses as wisdom, Socrates turned
to that element which had been the decisive factor oi
the culture of the time. This was insight. The great
est excellence is insight. He who acts according to his
feelings is not sure of his knowledge, but he who acts
according to insight has the greatest excellence in the
world. But Socrates restricts the meaning of knowledge
still further. Not only is knowledge to Socrates insight,
but it is moral insight. For the problems in which he
was interested were the problems of human life and
principally the problem of self-examination. Thus we
can translate the conventional formal statement of
Socrates, viz., Knowledge is virtue, into this rather
longer sentence, Moral insight is the most excellent
thing in the world. For the first time in the history of
thought philosophy is founded upon a moral postulate.
What the Socratic Ideal involves. AVe have now
examined the meaning of the formal statement of the
Socratic ideal. A further question along this same line
concerns what that ideal involves.
1. In the first place, to possess knowledge is to act
righteously. Knowledge = righteous conduct. Socrates
does not mean that knowledge is merely the condition
of right conduct ; he means that knowledge actually
constitutes moral conduct. The development of the
86 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
reason is actually the same as the development of the
will. Knowledge is virtue and virtue is knowledge.
Vice is ignorance and ignorance is vice. To have an
insight into the truth is the principle of living. Not
only is deficient insight the cause of evil, but it is itself
the greatest evil. Not only does a man act wrongly be
cause he does not know the good, but not to know the
good is the greatest wrong that can happen to him.
2. Not only is moral insight the same as virtuous
activity, but this insight is always accompanied by hap
piness. The will follows the recognition of the good, and
the appropriate action makes man happy. Happiness
is the necessary result of moral excellence. The Wise
Man knows what is good for him and does it ; thus in
his performance he becomes happy. Socrates would sub
scribe to the proverb " Be good and you will be happy."
Such teaching on the part of Socrates implies that he
believed two things : (1) that man by unremitting
earnest examination of himself and others could gain
such perfect happiness ; and (2) that the world is under
providential guidance. Socrates never expressly denied
the existence of the Homeric gods and never expressly
declared himself a monotheist. He is, however, always
referring to one over-ruling wisdom. He had a personal
conviction of immortality, but he never attempted its
proof. Although Socrates had little confidence in human
knowledge about the world of physical nature, he was
animated by a belief that amounted to a conviction in
the providential arrangement of the world. In such a
divinely ordered world the good must be happy. Only
a perfect wisdom can, however, be certain that always
the results of his actions will gain happiness in the en
vironment in which he lives ; but still man can be sure
SOCRATES 87
that happiness increases proportionately with know
ledge. Greek philosophy did go beyond this point in
ethics, and this is called, in technical language, eudce-
monism. Eudcemonism and hedonism are pleasure
theories that are similar. Eudaemonism is the theory
that active well-being is the highest good in life and
that that good is always accompanied by pleasure. In
hedonism pleasure is the good to be aimed at. In his
tory eudaemonism has easily degenerated into hedonism.
3. Socrates makes moral insight the same as virtuous
activity, and he says that its inevitable accompaniment
is happiness. Does he also make moral insight the same
as utility? According to Xenophon, Socrates regards
moral excellence as that which is most useful. Indeed,
in some of the Platonic dialogues Socrates seems to
define insight as the art of measuring or prudence, and
it is pointed out that Socrates developed no virtue so
fully as self-control. In the exigencies of the argument
Socrates also often resorted to the useful to define the
good. The question, What is the good ? often resolves
itself into the other question, What is the thing good
for ? Indeed, the form of the argument often assumes
the vicious circle : Why is the act just ? Because it is
useful? Why is it useful? Because it is just. For the
purposes of disputation, in which Socrates was always
shrewd and not always scrupulous, he so frequently re
fers the good to what is suitable to men's happiness and
profit that his philosophy does not seem to rise above
the relativism of the Sophists. But it is certain that
Socrates strove to transcend this relativism, although
not with full success and although his formulated teach
ing does not always go beyond it. However, that he
believed in an absolute rather than a relative good ap-
88 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
pears in many ways : in his doctrine that it is better to
suffer wrong than to do it ; in his strict conformity to
law rather than to save himself from death by breaking
the law ; in his constant interpretation of life as right-
doing, ethical improvement, and participation in the
good. The utility that is always in the background of
his thought is the usefulness for the soul. We may con
clude, therefore, that it was only superficially for the
purposes of argumentation that Socrates made the use
ful an equivalent of moral insight.
The purpose of Socrates was, after all, not to teach
men to think correctly nor to become cultured but to
become happy and useful Athenians. Moral excellence
is the Socratic goal ; and knowledge, happiness, and
usefulness are only aspects of that goal. Knowledge is
the essential means, happiness the essential result, and
usefulness the essential sign of moral excellence. It fol
lows as a corollary from Socrates' philosophical ideal
that he should also teach : (1) that virtue is teachable,
and (2) that the virtues are one. Virtue is obviously
teachable if it is knowledge. It follows also, although
not so obviously, that all the virtues are fundamentally
the same, and that a man cannot be virtuous in one
thing without being virtuous in all. The really temper
ate man is also courageous, wise, and just.
The Two Steps of the Method of Socrates. The ex
ternal form of the method of Socrates was conversation.
Thinking was to him an inner conversation. The result
of a conversation, external or internal, was evolvement,
— the implicit in thought made explicit. This was quite
opposed to the method of the Sophists, which was the
supplying of knowledge. Socrates did not propose to
start from any kind of knowledge except the ideal to
SOCRATES 89
be striven for. Starting with the presupposition that
man contained knowledge, the end which Socrates at
tempted to reach by his method was a practical one.
With so much in summary, let us examine the two
steps of the method of Socrates.
The first step that Socrates deems necessary for man
in attaining this ideal of moral excellence is negative.
Indeed, it is more, — it is complete abnegation on the
part of the seeker for truth. One must confess that he
himself knows nothing, and come to a realization that
his untested individual opinions are not the truth. He
must approach the subject as a seeker and not as a
teacher. This attitude of mind is the beginning of
wisdom. Plato relates how the Delphic oracle amazed
Socrates by announcing that he was the wisest of the
Greeks. In reflecting upon the statement of the oracle
he came to agree with the oracle because, as he said, he
was ignorant and he knew it, while the other Greeks
were ignorant and did not know it. Before Socrates
began to examine any conception, he professed or as
sumed to profess absolute ignorance of it. He is the
modest inquirer. He is always described in the role of
the questioner who is seeking information and light.
He laid the same requirement upon others that he
did upon himself. The dialectic conversation could not
be successfully carried on unless his interlocutors had
the same recognition of self -ignorance, — the same meas
ure of self-knowledge. The Sophists with whom he often
carried 011 his discussions laid claim to knowledge on
every known subject under the Greek sun and were ready
to teach anything to the Greek youth. To Socrates'
mind nothing could more impede his undertakings than
such an affectation of wisdom ; to the Sophists nothing
90 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
could be more repugnant than such a confession which
Socrates always obliged them to make. Although pro
fessing to be only a seeker for knowledge, he tried first
by his questions to scrutinize and to break down with
his exasperating logic the half -formed conceptions of the
egotist. This clear-cut analysis for purely destructive
purposes, which he used in preparation for his later con
structive conversation, is called the Socratic irony. As
he proved himself superior to any of his companions in
the use of the dialectic, he could begin his conversations
in the most destructive fashion. His method was de
structive of all prejudice and preconceived opinion that
would in any way stand athwart perfectly free inquiry
into the truth. His wish was to begin de novo with
every one, so that all traditional beliefs having been
given up and the investigators having confessed their
ignorance, constructive study of the concept in hand
could be begun.
The second step in Socrates' method of dialectical
inquiry follows upon the initial destructive criticism. It
is in this part of the conversation that we find his own
constructive theory. The dialogue is, of course, its ne
cessary condition ; for the truth is not in me nor in thee,
but in us all. It is latent in the mind and not on the
surface of any opinion. Let us rub our minds together.
Let us sift our varied concepts, unfold our real selves,
and briug the unborn truth to the light. Our ideas sup
plement one another and have a common ground. In
tellectual intercourse is an intellectual and a personal
need, for it reveals common sympathies and a oneness
of life. Common love of knowledge makes friends, and
this mutual intellectual helpfulness he calls by the
mythical term Eros. Inquiry is indefinite in duration ;
SOCRATES 91
the quest of truth is endless ; and Socrates acknow
ledges by his fresh beginnings again and again his fail
ure to reach the ideal. Thus the theoretical self-abne
gation of Socrates had a twofold significance in his
constructive philosophy. On the one hand, it was an
invitation to his countrymen to help him in his search
for the universal truth ; on the other, it was an acknow
ledgment that he had failed to attain that universal
truth.
Socrates and Athens. Socrates had a religious rever
ence for his own mission in the Athenian community.
He was the "gad-fly of the Athenian public " ; he was
the educator of the time ; he was divinely appointed to
the Athenian people. He felt himself so necessary to the
Athenian State that at his trial he proudly suggested
that instead of punishing him the State keep him at the
public expense in the Prytaneum. But the educator
creates nothing ; he only awakens and develops the
germs of knowledge that lie latent. The human Athe
nian nature is big with truth ; Socrates was divinely ap
pointed to bring it forth. He called his method, after
the profession of midwifery of his mother, the maieutic
method. It was intellectual midwifery, and he was the
intellectual midwife of Athens. Although he failed to
find any concrete form of ultimate truth, he never had
any doubt about the correctness of his method and of
undertaking the problem afresh. He believed that his
failure was due to the inherent weakness of human dis
cernment ; and so far as man's discernment or insight
is clear, so far will he know the true significance of
things.
Socrates believed in man, and he believed that in
man were contained all those elements that make up a
92 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
firm, rational, and moral society. Since he failed to justify
this belief in a theoretical way, his belief became largely
a matter of faith. Humanity is something to be won,
something to be developed. He was personally the em
bodiment of his faith, and his large influence was due to
his unswerving confidence in ethical ideals that did not
allow the least paltering.
The Logical Expedients of Socrates. The examina
tion of concepts by Socrates was an attempt to find a
logical " Nature," just as the Cosmologists had searched
physical phenomena to find a physical " Nature." This
makes Socrates the first to teach by induction and one
of the first to use definition effectively. In contrast to
the Sophists, he tried to give words exact meanings;
for the Sophists fixed artificial meanings to words with
reference to particular objects. In seeking for the exact
meaning, Socrates was looking below the changing par
ticulars to the " Nature " of the fact and the universal
principle. Thus he was making his hearers conscious of
the logical dependence of the particular upon the uni
versal. The universal is that which is common to all
particular conceptions or opinions. It lies beneath them
and binds them together. Thus, by logical analysis,
Socrates is taking steps in the educational process of
gaining the universal. Provisional definition would be
given by him in some dialogue ; this definition would
be tried by many facts ; thus an advance would be
made toward a true definition and a universal principle.
This process is that of induction. It leads to generic
concepts by comparison of particular views and indi
vidual perceptions, by bringing together analogous cases
and allied relations. The subordination of the particular
under the universal thus became a principle of science.
SOCRATES 93
However imperfect and childlike was Socrates' method
of procedure, whatever lack of caution in generalization
and in the collection of material, however hasty often
times his judgments, he nevertheless made the subordi
nation of the particular to the universal a principle of
logical procedure. Xeriophon says that Socrates was
untiring in his efforts to examine and define goodness
and wickedness, justice and injustice, wisdom and folly,
courage and cowardice, the state and the citizen^
Socrates and the Lesser Socratics. The death of
Socrates proved to be his transfiguration. His influence,
widespread and profound, came more from his personality
than from his formulated theory. He was a revelator
without a revelation. An absolutely true end of life, the
Good, he firmly believed to exist ; but it was an ideal to
be won by each and all. After him, therefore, there was
opportunity for various interpretations of his doctrine,
and several schools were founded by his disciples. His
truest and most discriminating pupil was Plato, who is
in a class by himself as developing the philosophy of
Socrates to a systematic perfectness. The philosophy of
Plato stands with that of Democritus and Aristotle as
one of the three systematic philosophies that Greek civil
ization produced. Besides Plato there were the Lesser
Socratics : Euclid (not the mathematician), Phsedo, Aris-
tippus, and Antisthenes. Each of these was respectively
the founder of a school. These four Lesser-Socratic
schools were that at Megara founded by Euclid, the
Elean-Eretrian founded by Phaedo, the Cynic founded
by Antisthenes, and the Cyrenaic founded by Aristippus.
The influence of the Megarian and Elean-Eretrian
schools was unimportant. It may suffice to dismiss them
by saying that Phaedo was the favorite pupil of Socrates,
04 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
and that Plato was a member of the Megarian school
for a short time after the death of Socrates. The two
other Lesser-Socratic schools had an important influ*
ence upon contemporary and later civilization and will
be mentioned here. These are the Cynic and Cyrenaic
schools. In these two schools two great types of ethical
theory that have since existed were formulated. All
four of the Lesser Socratics pretended to be the true
development of the teaching of Socrates ; and these two,
as well as the other two, differ in the accentuation that
they place on some phase of the master's doctrine.
Socrates' own definition of ideal excellence being in
complete, the Cynics and Cyrenaics tried to define it,
to give it content and to show a practical way of reach
ing it. They attempted
(1) to answer affirmatively that there is a universal
validity ;
(2) to show in what it consists ;
(3) to show how man must prepare himself in order
to reach it.
Both schools are individualistic and eudsemonistic.
They maintained that to affirm that the Good is good
for its own sake is to leave the Good contentless ; and
to affirm that the Good is insight into the Good is
to go in a circle. The one unambiguous answer to the
question of Socrates, What is ideal excellence or the
Good ? is this : Goodness is happiness. This gives a
content to the otherwise contentless ideal of Socrates.
The difference between the two schools consists in the
ethical way in which this happiness may be obtained.
It will appear, therefore, that the Lesser Socratics
were more Sophistic than Socratic. They were diametri
cally opposed to Socrates' theory of the universality of
SOCRATES 95
truth. The excellent Good must be sought by each in
his own way. This is individualistic virtue, and not that
of humanity. Civilization was valued by them only
as it satisfied individual needs. The common problem
of individualistic happiness limited the efforts of both
schools, while the results that they reached in solving
it were quite different.
There are two ways of achieving happiness ; one is
by satisfying the desires, the other is by cutting off the
desires. For happiness is the perfect proportion of
desire and satisfaction. A living creature is happy if his
desires are satisfied, whether those desires be few or
many. In the theory of the Cyrenaic school, happiness
is gained by increasing the satisfactions ; in the theory
of the Cynic school, happiness is gained by decreasing
the desires.
The Cynic School was founded by Antisthenes, and
numbered among its adherents Diogenes, about whom
so many curious stories have been told, Crates of
Thebes, his wife Hipparchia, and her brother, Metro-
cles. Virtue in the eudsemonistic sense is the only end,
and this school agreed with Socrates that this end is
to be attained by knowledge. That is to say, virtue or
knowledge is only a means of gaining happiness, and all
other possessions the Cynics affected to despise. Virtue
as knowledge is therefore to be sought ; ignorance is to
be shunned ; all else is a matter of indifference. Riches,
luxury, fame, honor, sense-pleasure and pain, and later
with logical consistency all shame, convention, family,
and country were objects of contempt. Man must make
himself independent by cutting off the desires which he
cannot satisfy or the desires that seem superfluous.
He should keep alive only such desires as are necessary
96 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
to existence. In independence of all outward circum.
stance the Cynic conceives himself to be the Wise Man,
in contrast to whom the mass of men are fools. The
Cynic is, therefore, the equal of the undesiring gods. He
has independent lordship and does not need the artifi
cialities of civilization. Natural law was contrasted by
him in a Sophistic way with statutory law, and in the
midst of the refinements of society he preached a return
to a state of nature.
The Cyrenaic School was founded by Aristippus,
who lived in Cyrene, a luxurious city of northern
Africa. Aristippus was a man of the world. He was
first a Sophist and later a disciple of Socrates. After
Socrates' death he returned to Cyrene. Here he founded
his school, which included three generations of his own
family. The prominent members of it were Arete, his
daughter ; Aristippus, his grandson ; Theodorus, Hege-
sias, Anniceris, and Euhemerus, the author of so-called
Euhemerism, which taught that the gods were originally
only great men. In opposition to the brutal bareness of
the Cynic school, the Cyrenaics saw the true end of life
in the pleasures of sense. Following Protagoras, Aris
tippus said that the sensations are always true and can
be defined in terms of motion. The school developed an
elaborate psychology of sensation which summarizes its
doctrine. It is as follows : (1) The intensity and not
the duration of a sensation determines its value ; (2)
Bodily pleasures are of greater value than mental be
cause they are more intense ; (3) I can know only my
own sensations, and therefore they are of greater value
than another's ; (4) Man has a reasonable insight which
determines him in the choice of his sensations.
The practical problem of life for this, as it was for
SOCRATES 97
the Cynic school, was how to become individually inde
pendent of the world. But the Cyrenaic taught inde
pendence by enjoyment, in opposition to the Cynic's in
dependence by renunciation. The Cyrenaic Wise Man
knows all the pleasures of life thoroughly, from animal
satisfactions to spiritual ecstasies. He uses them all, but
never forgets himself. He is lord of his appetites, never
wishes the impossible, and has perfect and serene peace.
It is an interesting fact that this pleasure-loving
school drew pessimism as the consequence of its theory.
If life fails to give enjoyment, it is a failure. That life
alone is reprehensible that has more pain than plea
sure. It is on this ground that man should submit to
law and custom rather than give up his pleasures. Yet
some members of the school maintained that man is
bound to be unhappy. While he should have pleasure,
he is so constituted that he cannot gain it. The body
of man is an inevitable sufferer. The highest that we
can hope is painlessness.
The Cynic and Cyrenaic schools occupy an important
position in the history of philosophy. The Cynic doc
trine was the basis of the teaching of the Stoic school,
and the Cyrenaic was the legitimate predecessor of the
Epicurean school. These great schools were founded in
Athens seventy-five years later, and will be discussed
under the Hellenic-Roman Period.
CHAPTER VI
THE SYSTEMATIC PERIOD (399 B. C.-322 B. C.)
^ The Waning of the Greek National Spirit. The
Systematic Period extends from the death of Socrates
to the death of Aristotle. It is only seventy-seven years
long — about the same length as the Anthropological
and half as long as the Cosmological Period. It begins
with those sorry days after the Peloponnesian War
and ends with the supremacy of Macedonian power.
The period was filled with ferocious wars among the
Grecian cities. First came the supremacy of Sparta,
then of Thebes (371-362 B. c.), then the invasion by
Philip of Macedon and the battle of Chjeronea, 338 B. c.
In 334 B. c. Alexander the Great began the conquest
of the Orient, which he accomplished in two years. He
thought by this that he could reunite the Greeks in a
common cause. He failed for two reasons. In the first
place, as a Macedonian the Greeks would not take him
as a national representative. In the second place, the
Greek spirit was waning. The people had lost their
glorious ideals. Decay had set in. The worm was at
the root of Greek life. Greek art, literature, and states
manship had passed.
The Place of the Three Systematic Philosophers in
Greek History. Nevertheless, when Greek national
life was approaching dissolution, science ripened its
richest fruits and created its most comprehensive sys
tems of philosophy. These are connected with the
names 'of Democritus, Plato, and Aristotle. These
THE SYSTEMATIC PERIOD 99
great systems evidently cannot be accounted for by the
social conditions in which they appear. Neither the
need nor the demand of the disrupted Greece of these
years would be a sufficient cause to explain the appear
ance of a Plato or an Aristotle. The interests of the
Greek people became narrower as the interests of the
Greek philosophers became more broadly human. The
intellectual tendency of this short period was utilitarian
and practical. The problems that now interested the
Athenians were the details of mechanics, physiology,
rhetoric, and politics. The field of science was now for
the first time systematized to logic, ethics, and physics
— a classification which, we shall find, will exist for
many centuries. Sparta and Macedonia, not Athens
and Abdera, represent the spirit of the period.
If then Democritus, Plato, and Aristotle do not re
flect the time in which they live, what relation do they
bear to Greek civilization? They are not isolated and
out of all relation to the life of the Greek people. On
the contrary, they are the most comprehensive and the
most profound expression of Greek life. One turns to
them as the most perfect representation of Greek cul
ture. They are the intimate expression of Greek
thought, even if not of contemporaneous Greek thought.
They are the final statements of the two preceding
periods, projected into a time that had other interests.
to -a,
close, was its final jx^ression^and,
form. ~Plato did the same for the Anthropological
Period. In Aristotle the systematic cosmology of De
mocritus and the systematic ethics of Plato find a new
meaning, in a closer union, under a more coordinating
principle. Aristotle was the last possible word of Greek
100 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
philosophy, for he systematized every branch known to
the Greeks. He not only evolved a speculative theory
of the whole, but he organized the special sciences. It
must be further said that no one of these three great
Greeks could have produced the results each did pro
duce, if each had not been the leader of a school of
many workers. Within each school there must have
been vigorous cooperation along lines according to the
inclination of the individual members. Thus each school
collected a vast amount of material which was worked
over according to the method and purpose of the leader.
The Fundamental Principle of the Systematic
Period. At the beginning of this book attention was
called to the difference between Greek, Mediaeval, and
Modern thought. Greek thought was characterized as
objective. It is important to reiterate this objective sig
nificance of Greek thought at this point, when we are
about to discuss the teachings of Democritus, Plato,
and Aristotle. Plato's theory is often called an ideal
ism and Democritus' theory materialism, but they are
not the idealism and materialism of modern times. No
terms have fluctuated in their meanings more than
such philosophical terms as these, as can be judged
from the fact that in the Middle Ages Plato's doctrine
was called realism. The Greeks were not idealists in
the sense that Berkeley and Hegel were idealists. In
general, it should be remembered that when we speak
of Greek art, Greek politics, Greek philosophy as ideal
istic, they are not idealistic in the modern sense.*
The open-minded Greek sought to picture, to ascer-
* Read Zeller, Pre-Socratic Phil, vol. i, pp. 138-149, con-
cerning the objective character of Greek morality, art, and
philosophy.
THE SYSTEMATIC PERIOD 101
tain, to present. He was not dominated by the wish to
show how things should be. To know and to under
stand, to explain by understanding the abiding reason
in things, to find out the fundamental principle in
things rather than to adjust it to the personal desires
— this was the objective attitude of mind of the
Greeks. The Greek saw before he reasoned ; he visual
ized his thought in form before he subjected the form
to rational analysis. The cosmos was a harmony and
an art before which he stood in contemplation rather
than in criticism. Human elements were found in it
everywhere, but only as parts of that cosmos. " The
unity of the spiritual and the natural, which Greek
thought demands and presupposes, is the direct un
broken unity of the classic theory of the world." 1
By whatever names the great theories of the System
atic Period are called, we must remember that they
did not depart from this objective Greek point of view.
At certain times the moorings of Greek thought seem
about to be shifted, as when Plato passes beyond the
ancient Greek attitude and anticipates Christian mo
rality by flight from the world of sense, and when Aris
totle elaborates his doctrine of a transcendent god. But
the tie never breaks, and the Systematic philosophers
remain Greek and not modern. They have the Greek
objective attitude of mind. The inner consciousness
does not stand with its attestations over against all
other things. The greatest of these philosophers never
thought of himself but as " bone of the bone and flesh
of the flesh " of the world surrounding him. In art the
classic Greek " could obey but not surpass nature " ; in
religion he worshiped beings that were only superior
1 Zeller, Pre-Socratic Phil., vol. i, p. 162.
102 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
human beings ; in politics he was a member, of a social
whole. To -ZEschylus, Pericles, Socrates, Protagoras,
Aristophanes, Democritus, Plato, and Aristotle alike,
human nature is a part of the world and not vice versa*
The Greek mind interpreted nature rather than re
created it.
What, then, is the nature of the development of Greek
thought, and in what respect does the Greek System
atic philosophy differ from the philosophy of the Greek
Cosmologists ? Greek philosophy in the Cosmological
Period starts with a conception of an objective har
mony of nature and spirit which is called hylozoism.
Step by step in the Anthropological and Systematic
Periods that harmony becomes broken into a dualism
of mind and matter. The philosophy of this Systematic
Period is a dualism of the parts of one objective world,
not a subjective-objective antithesis. The realm of
spirit lies side by side with that of nature, and the sep
aration and alienation never reached the complete form
that it did in the Middle Ages. The great Greek Sys-
tematizers in part represent this dualistic tendency, in
part are a scientific effort to overcome it. " In spite of
this tendency [to a dualism] the original presupposi
tion [a harmony between nature and spirit] asserts itself
in decisive traits ; and we shall find that the true cause
of its incapacity to reconcile these contradictions satis
factorily lies in its refusal to abandon that presupposi
tion. When that [unity] is canceled, there remains
to it no possible way of filling up a chasm which, ac
cording to its own standpoint, cannot exist." *
A Summary of Greek Philosophy. At this point a
summary of Greek objective philosophy will be help-
1 Zeller, Pre-Socratic Phil., vol. i, p. 162.
THE SYSTEMATIC PERIOD 103
ful. The philosophical problem that had been working
itself out since Thales had been this: How may we
think the Being that abides amid the changes of phe
nomena ? The Cosmologists scrutinized physical nature
and, without differentiating nature and spirit, con
ceived abiding Being to be living matter. The An
thropologists (except Socrates) doubted if there is any
abiding Being. Among the Systematic Philosophers
a dualism for the first time appears. Nature and
spirit are differentiated, but both remain entirely ob
jective. Democritus regarded the material universe as
abiding Being, but in so large a way as to be able to
construct upon it a psychology and an ethics. Plato
found abiding Being in the realm of the spirit, in
a group of moral and aesthetic entities. Aristotle at
tempts to overcome the opposition between materialism
and Platonism. To him abiding Being is neither physi
cal nature nor the spirit apart from physical nature.
Abiding Being to Aristotle is the spirit m nature.
Greek Philosophy (objective).
1. The Cosmologists — Hylozoism.
Abiding Being is living nature — some form of
living matter.
2. The Anthropologists — Relativism (except Soc
rates) .
Being is not abiding, but consists of transitory
mental states. This is a form of what was called
by the schoolmen Nominalism, and summed up by
the phrase Unwersalia post rem.
3. The Systematic Philosophers.
Democritus — Materialism.
Being consists in material atoms, but regarded
in so large a way as to furnish a basis for a
psychology and an ethics.
104 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
Plato — Objective Idealism.
Being consists of permanent moral and aesthetic
concepts or types. In mediaeval philosophy Pla-
tonism was called realism and was summed up
by the phrase Universalia ante rem.
Aristotle — Conceptualism.
The abiding Being does not consist of material
atoms nor in spiritual types apart from matter,
but is an unfolding essence in matter. This was
usually called conceptualism by the Schoolmen,
and was summed up by the phrase Universalia
in re. Aristotle's conception was as difficult as it
was important. He was not always clearly a
conceptualist, but sometimes appeared in the role
of an " objective realist."
Democritus and Plato — Their Similarities and
Differences. The materialism of Democritus and the
idealism of Plato were as opposed as was possible within
the realm of Greek thought. We must not exaggerate
their similarities, but they had at least four common
characteristics.
Their Similarities.
1. Both develop an outspoken rationalism,1 which
starts as a reaction from the perception theory of Pro
tagoras. They agree with Protagoras that perception
cannot yield truth, and so they turn away from percep
tion to the reason to find true knowledge.
2. Both develop a world of twofold reality. Percep-
1 Rationalism and sensationalism refer to the sources from which
knowledge is obtained. Rationalism is to be contrasted with sensation
alism. Rationalism is the belief that the reason is an independent
source of knowledge and has a higher authority than sense-perception.
Sensationalism is the belief that all our knowledge originates in sensa*
tions. Empiricism is often used for sensationalism.
THE SYSTEMATIC PERIOD 105
tions are not regarded by them as illusions, although
perceptions are transitory. Both make a new estimate
of perceptions, and give to the world of perceptions a
relative value. There are therefore two kinds of reality :
the relative reality of the world of perceptions and the
absolute reality of the world of reason. The result in
both is a broad theory of knowledge.
3. In both, reality consists in a plural number of
objective norms. Both reach their conception of these
norms in the same way. The changing qualities of things
are stripped away and the true reality is discovered be
neath. Both designate this true form by the same word,
idea (iSe'a). To both, the forms are objective entities.
4. Both are attempts to overcome scientifically the
dualism which had emerged from the former hylozoism
of Greek thought.
TJieir Differences — The Development of the Mean
ing of Idea. 1. But the forms or ideas are so vitally
different in the doctrines of these two philosophers
that they have nothing in common save the name. On
the one hand, Democritus took the word " idea " just as
he found it in popular speech. It is the shape of a vis
ible thing, the geometrical form of physical objects.
It gets no new content in his hands, but is merely the
physical atom. With Plato, however, the word gets a
new meaning. He fills the form or idea with an ethical
content. The idea as a quantity becomes now a quality.
The idea becomes an Idea. The forms of Plato are
logical species and teleological causes, while the forms
of Democritus are atom-complexes.1 In both philoso-
1 Teleology is the doctrine that things exist for some purpose. A
teleological cause, which is the same as " final cause " or " end," is the
purpose involved in an action. It ia contrasted with mechanical or efli-
106 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
pliers they are the norms of reality. But while Democ-
ritus still keeps his forms as the realities of physical
nature, Plato conceives his forms to be true realities of
objective human nature.
2. This vital difference between the two philoso
phers may get some explanation from the difference in
the philosophical inheritance of each. To be sure, they
were contemporaries, both being born in the Anthro
pological Period and both doing their most mature
work in the Systematic Period. Both, too, were ac
quainted with the philosophy of the preceding time.
But the ethical teaching of Socrates dominated Plato,
and through it he became the legitimate perfecter of
the Greek enlightenment and the anthropological move
ment. But what was the influence of Socrates upon
Democritus ? It seems to have been nothing. Why is
Plato absolutely silent about Democritus when he men
tions other Greek philosophers ? No one has yet been
able to say. Democritus stands at Abdera isolated from
the ethical movement at Athens. The only influence
upon him from that movement came from Protagoras,
who was a member of the school at Abdera. Democ
ritus is the finisher of the Cosmological movement.
The Life of Democritus (460-370 B. c.). Democ
ritus was twenty years younger than Protagoras,
about ten years younger than Socrates, and a genera
tion older than Plato. He was outlived by Plato ; and
Aristotle was a young man when Democritus died. He
was therefore contemporary with the intellectual move-
cient cause. A trolley car is moving and a man runs to catch it. Elec
tricity is the mechanical cause of the movement of the car. The pur
pose of the man is the teleological cause of his running ; the strength
in his legs is the mechanical or efficient cause of his running.
THE SYSTEMATIC PERIOD 101
ment going on in Greece, with Athens as a centre.
While he does not appear to have come under the in
fluence of Socrates, he was well acquainted with the
destructive epistemology of the Sophists. Abdera, where
he lived, is in Thrace, and seems to have been outside
the Anthropological movement at Athens. The school
of Leucippus was at Abdera ; and Democritus was in
structed in the Sophistic doctrine directly from Pro
tagoras, who was a member of the Atomistic school
before going to Athens. The three Systematic philoso
phers were wide travelers, Democritus not less than
Plato and Aristotle. He traveled extensively through
Greece, Egypt, and the Orient. He then returned to
Abdera and began his scientific activity. He remained
five years in Egypt, and came to know the greater part
of western Asia. He returned to Abdera about 420 B.C.,
and therefore did not begin his teaching before he was
forty years old. The length of time that Democritus,
Plato, and Aristotle took for their apprenticeship, and
the advanced age before they began their mastership,
is remarkable. Democritus was the greatest investi
gator of nature in antiquity, and Aristotle used much
of Democritus' work for his own scientific writings.
The ancients admired the writings of Democritus, and
the loss of them in the fourth century after Christ
is one of the most lamentable that has happened to
the literary documents of antiquity. His works were
extraordinary in number, and upon every known sub
ject.
Democritus was the real exponent of the Atomistic
school. The founder, Leucippus, belonged to the Cosmo-
logical Period ; Protagoras, the Sophist, belonged to the
Anthropological Period, and had great influence in the
108 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
development of the school at Abdera ; but Democritus,
in systematizing the doctrines of Leucippus and in
accepting the perception theory of Protagoras, became
its most notable representative. He was the great sys-
tematizer of the Cosmologists, and yet he differed from
all the Cosmologists in embodying in his theory the
results of the Sophistic movement.
TheComprehensiveness of the Aim of Democritus.
The reconstruction of the philosophy of Democritus
has always been difficult for the historian because, from
the originally great mass of his writings, only fragments
remain. The fragments show, however, many interest
ing things : that he covered the entire range of experi
ence in his investigations; that he was quite as much
interested in psychical as in physical problems ; that his
contribution to epistemology was even greater than to
physics ; and that he was interested in the atomic theory
because he believed that it was a working hypothesis
for the explanation of experience of every kind. This
last characteristic shows the systematic nature of his
work and his right to stand with Plato and Aristotle.
Democritus fully realized that the task of science was
to explain experiences through a conception of reality.
So he constructed his conception of the atom in order
that he might explain phenomena intelligibly. He saw
that no conception strange to experience or against ex
perience, like the Eleatic Being, would answer scientific
demands. A rational conception of absolute reality will
have value only as experience testifies to it and, on the
other hand, as it explains experience. Democritus valued
his theory of the atoms because it seemed to explain
all phenomena. This construction of a single funda
mental rational principle for all kinds of phenomena
THE SYSTEMATIC PERIOD 109
shows how much more of a systematic scientist he was
than the Cosmologists.
The Enriched Physics of Democritus — Hylozoism
becomes Materialism. There is so great enrichment in
elaboration and generalization in the physical doctrine
of Democritus over that of Leucippus that it amounts
to a change in principle. In all probability Leucippus,
like other Cosmologists, was a hylozoist, and did not
differentiate matter and life. He is to be grouped with
the Reconcilers, or even with the Eleatics, rather than
with Democritus. Democritus_was[ ^ materialist. The
period of forty years between himself and Leucippus had
been the rich period of the introduction of psychologi
cal investigation and of the discrimination of psychical
from physical processes. Materialism or spiritualism is
not possible in the historical development of the human
mind until it passes through just such a period of differ
entiation as the Sophistic Enlightenment. Before such
a period there is animism and hylozoism ; after such a
period there is materialism and spiritualism of various
sorts. Matter must be discriminated from spirit before
one of the terms can be reduced to the other. So the
hylozoistic pluralism of Leucippus became in the hands
of Democritus a realistic materialism, pluralistic as well.
The reduction of all phenomena by Democritus to a
mechanics of atoms was theoretically an enrichment of
physics, for it anticipated the underlying principle of
modern physics. The apparent qualities of things and
the qualitative changes of things are conceived by
Democritus to be in truth only a quantitative relation
of atoms. He set before himself the task of explaining
in detail how this or that quality consists of atoms in
mechanical motion. The mental life of man must be
110 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
explained in the same way. So too, wherever he could,
he emphasized more sharply than his predecessors the
mechanical necessity of the movement of atoms. Im
pact caused by contact of the atoms was the cause of
every occurrence and change. No event is to be ex
plained as the manifestation of some spirit, or referred
to some spiritual agency. Mechanical cause is behind
every event ; mechanical cause is the unifying principle
of the doctrine of Democritus ; mechanical cause is the
reason for the chasm between the philosophy of Plato, of
Aristotle, and that of Democritus. It is the reason, too,
why the theory of Democritus was obscured until mod
ern times. All teleological conceptions and all hylozo-
istic and animistic ideas are expelled from the theory of
Democritus, on the assumption that spatial form and
motion are simpler and more comprehensible terms of
explanation. Thus for the first time we have a con
scious outspoken materialism, and for the first time
the world is conceived to be a universal reign of me
chanical law.
The physical theory of Democritus also yielded a rich
scientific explanation of the historical evolution of the
universe. The universe, according to Democritus, —
following the teaching of Leucippus, — consists of two
parts : the Plenum or self -moving, qualitatively similar
atoms ; and the Void or empty space, in which the
atoms move. The Plenum, or the atoms, is Being ; the
Void is not-Being. The atoms differ only in form and
size ; * they are infinite in number and therefore are of
an infinite number of forms and sizes ; they are imper
ceptibly small. The perceptible qualities do not belong
1 Atoms differ primarily in form (tSe'a) ; size is referred in part tc
form.
THE SYSTEMATIC PERIOD 1H
to them, but to their motions. Motion is an irreducible
function of atoms, and each atom, lawless in itself, is in
flight through space. An aggregation of atoms arises
when the atoms meet in their cosmic flight. The shock
causes a vortex which draws more atoms into itself.
Like atoms are drawn together, and the heavy atoms
press the fine fire-atoms to the periphery. Thus innu
merable worlds are formed, for any place of the meeting
of several atoms can be the beginning of a new world.
Sometimes small worlds are drawn into the vortices of
large worlds, and sometimes large worlds disintegrate
in fatal collisions. The worlds are therefore endless
and in endless succession. The whole swings in space
like a ball ; the rim of the whole consists of compact
atoms ; the centre is filled with air. To much further
length than we can go here Democritus developed a
theoretical description of cosmic evolution upon the
principle of mechanical necessity — and the description
is almost modern.
The Materialistic Psychology of Democritus. It is
easy to understand an explanation of the physical uni
verse as atoms in motion ; for our modern scientific
theories of nature are set in these terms, even if we
have transformed the Democritan static atom into a
dynamic entity. It is rather more interesting to follow
such a materialist as Democritus in his extension of the
materialistic principle over upon the realm of the men
tal life.
In the first place, Democritus conceives man to be
part and parcel of the world of atoms. Man is com
posed of all kinds of atoms. His body consists of earth,
water, and air atoms. His mind is made up of fire
atoms, which differ from the others in being the finest,
112 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
smoothest, and most mobile. On this account the fire
atoms are the most perfect of all. Psychical activity is
the motion of fire atoms. They are scattered throughout
the universe, and wherever they are, there is life. They
are in plants and animals as well as in man. There is
a larger collection of them in man, and this shows his
superiority over other living things. In man there is a
fire atom between every two other atoms, and the whole
is held together by breathing. The different forms of
mental activity are simply different forms of atomic
motion.
In the next place, our atomic make-up involves the
presence of other atomic complexes, if we are to have
any psychical activity. External things must stimulate
us. But these external things are atoms in action. They
can, however, influence us only by coming into contact
with our bodies. Only by impact on our bodies can
they set in motion the fire atoms which are scattered
through our bodies. Every kind of knowledge or men
tal life involves the participation of the fire atoms in us.
Thus mental activity involves two factors ; the fire atoms
within us and an external group of atoms without us.
How did Democritus explain the varied mental life
as the resultant of these two factors ? He employed the
theory of effluxes, belief in which he shared with his
time. This is a purely physiological assumption, origi
nated by such Cosmologists as Empedocles, that some
how external bodies send off emanations from themselves
which strike upon our bodies. Most objects in the
world influence us at a distance and only through the
emission of these effluxes. Democritus conceived these
emanations to be little copies or " eidola " of the thing
that sends them off. To illustrate Democritus' meaning :
THE SYSTEMATIC PERIOD 113
a tree is seen by me because little trees, thrown off by
it, hit my eye? This theory retained its position in phi
losophical circles until after Locke. It persists in the
popular mind to-day. It is a general belief that a
thought is a copy, photograph, or image of the thing.
The words " image " and " imagination " betray their
origin. It was believed by Democritus that such copies
set in motion the sense organs and through them the
fire atoms. The effluxes can, however, affect only those
organs of the body that have similar formation and
similar atomic motions.
But the effluxes vary very much in the degree of
fineness of their atomic structure. There are all sorts,
from very fine to very coarse. Since the efflux must
correspond to a particular sense if that sense is to be
affected by it, the effluxes that can affect the senses vary
respectively as to their fineness. Democritus was par
ticularly interested in the sensations of sight and hear
ing as examples of this. None of the effluxes affecting
the senses are as fine as those that stimulate the reason.
Unless they were the finest of all the effluxes, they
could not affect the fine motions of the fire atoms of the
reason. These finest "eidola" or effluxes are the true
copies of things, and the reason therefore alone knows
things truly. Thought, on the one hand, is precisely the
atomic motion of the direct impact of the finest effluxes
upon the fine fire-atoms of the soul. Sensation, on the
other hand, is atomic motion from the indirect impact of
the coarser grades of effluxes upon the fire atoms. The
reason knows reality directly. Sensations are aroused in
a roundabout way by the coarse effluxes setting in motion
the corresponding sense organ, which in turn sets in
motion the fire atoms. Thus does Democritus make the
114 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
distinction between thought and sensation in quantita
tive terms. Thus does he reduce his psychology to a con
sistency with his metaphysical principle of materialism.
Democritus' Theory of Knowledge — The World of
Twofold Reality. Democritus would have been only
one of the great Cosmologists, and he would not
have his place by the side of Plato and Aristotle, if his
materialism had illuminated no other subject than
physics. Indeed, it is doubtful if his physics would have
been so grandly comprehensive and unqualified had it
not been strengthened by his discriminating theory of
twofold knowledge. He might have extended and sys
tematized his materialism so that it explained to the
satisfaction of his time both physical and psychical
phenomena, and still have been a hylozoist, like Leu-
cippus, the founder of the Atomistic school. The prob
lem of knowledge — the problem of estimating our
mental states — was as incomprehensible to Leucippus
as to the Eleatics. Democritus, however, was a ration
alist and realist like Plato and Aristotle. He recog
nized, as did they, that there is a difference in episte-
mological values. His universalized materialism did
not prevent him from evaluating our experiences from
the same general point of view as the leader of the
Academy and the Stagirite. He felt that a twofold
reality is as consistent with materialistic principles as
with idealism. So he reduced all qualities to quan
tities, and then as quantities re-valued and classified
them. His chief contribution was to the subject of
epistemology and not to physics, and that is why he
is treated among the Greek Systematizers and not
among the Cosmologists. Probably his chief interest
lay where he did his chief work.
THE SYSTEMATIC PERIOD Hi
The perception theory of Protagoras was the starting,
point of both Democritus and Plato. Both adopted
it in order to transcend it and make it of real signifi
cance. Democritus, upon the basis of his materialistic
psychology, admitted that sense-perception is only a
transitory process, and its knowledge must be as transi
tory. But he did not agree with Protagoras that all
knowledge is perceptual. Sense-perception_ does yield
only relative knowledge ; Hut there is another kind of
knowledge that is not relative but absolute. This is
knowledge of the reason. Human beings have reason
as well as sense-perception. Thus is Democritus a
rationalist, although a materialist.
The contribution of Democritus to the theory of
knowledge consists in just this turn which he gave to
Protagoras' doctrine of perception. The relativity of
perception becomes in the Democritan theory a differ
ent thing from what it was in the doctrine of the great
Sophist. To Protagoras perceptual knowledge is rela
tive, and therefore of no value in determining what is
real. To Democritus perceptual knowledge is relative,
but it has a value, — a relative value. It gets this rela
tive value from the fact that the reason can determine
absolute reality. Perception is the contributor to the
reason, and also in turn is illuminated by the reason.
In the same breath we may say that Protagoras was
a contributor to the theory of Democritus, and in turn
that the Protagorean relativism was illuminated by
the Democritan rationalism. The result was a twofold
knowledge — in the language of Democritus, " genuine
knowledge " and " obscure insight."
The objects corresponding to these two kinds of
knowledge must be of two kinds. On the one hand,
116 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
the objects of tbejgason. or " genuine knowledge," are,.
the genuine, primary, or real properties of^jjhe atoms
— for the atoms are reality to Democritus. These are
.form, size, inertia, density, and hardness^1 A study of
these properties of things is, therefore, a study of real
objects. On the other hand, the objects of perception
or "obscure insight "are the properties of atoms as
perceived obscurely by the senses. These are color,,
are the qualities or relative
^properties of things. A study of these is a study of
only what is relatively real. When materialism was
revived by the Renaissance, the former group of objects
were called "^primary ^qualities " and the latter "^ec-
ondar^j^ualities.'' These terms have become classic,
and have rendered permanent Democritus' evaluation
of the objects of the two kinds of knowledge. Out of
the fragments of the teaching of the Cosmologists and
the one-sided epistemology of the Sophists, Democritus
constructed contemporaneously with Plato, perhaps an
tecedently to him, a theory of twofold knowledge.
The Ethical Theory of Democritus. The ethics of
Democritus is another example of his general principle
of a mechanism of atoms. His attempt to reduce all
qualitative to quantitative relations, which gives his
theory a unique place in Greek thought, reaches its
highest distinction in his ethics. The influence of his
ethical doctrine upon the Epicureans, and possibly upon
the Cyrenaics, shows its importance in history. Further
more, its high quality proves that a materialism can
offer inspiring ethical doctrines. Some have placed the
ethics of Democritus upon a level with the ethics of
Socrates because, as it is pointed out, he placed it upon
1 These all reduce to form, — see above.
THE SYSTEMATIC PERIOD 117
an intellectual basis. The basal ethical principle of
Deraocritus may be stated thus : As true knowledge is
the ideal object of the intellect, so true happiness is the
ideal object of our conduct. The ethics of Democritus
is eudaemonistic, like that of Socrates.
Pleasures have fundamental differences. They are in
every case the results of atomic motions ; but the atomic
motions of the intellect differ from those of the senses,
and those of the senses differ from one another. The
fire atoms of the intellect are small, and have a gentle,
peaceful motion ; the atomic motions of the senses are
coarse and violent, caused by the coarse effluxes of the
objects that excite them. Sense-pleasures are relative,
like the perceptions. As perception is obscure insight
and gains the appearance and not the true reality, so
the pleasures of sense are transitory, uncertain, violent,
and deceitful. Intellectual pleasures are, like the intel
lect, real, true, permanent, gentle, and peaceful. True
happiness, the goal of human activity, attends upon that
right insight — upon the gentle atomic motions of the
intellectual life. On the other hand, the coarse atomic
motions of the senses disturb the intellectual calm,
and are often violent explosions. Democritus believed
that knowledge of the atoms, as the true explanation of
the world, will give to the soul a measure and a har
mony, will guard it from excitement and make it pos
sessor of a peace which — to use his happy simile — is
like the ocean calm. Two ideals seem to stand before
Democritus, which he did not try to reconcile. Some
times before his mind's eye the ideal happiness is purely
intellectual pleasure and points toward asceticism.
Sometimes he speaks of happiness as the life of perfect
self-control and temperance. He never positively denies
118 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
all value to sense-pleasure, but he gives to sense-pleas
ure the relative value that he gives to the senses them
selves. In every case the ground of happiness is intel
lectual refinement, and the ground of unhappiness the
lack of it. The majority of men are sensualists and are
to be contrasted with the Wise Man, who finds his hap
piness either in his individual life or in his friendship
with other Wise Men.
CHAPTER VII
PLATO (427-347 B. C.)
Abdera and Athens. The materialism of Democri-
tus was the natural consummation of the thought of the
Cosmological Period. The influence of the Sophistic
psychology only enriched it, widened it, and brought
its materialism into a systematic formulation. The
Democritan system from the isolated centre of Abdera
points only to the past. Upon the death of Democritus
the school quickly disappeared. Its materialistic doc
trine reappeared from time to time in one form and
another, — in the Skeptics, the Epicureans, and the
Stoics. It was reintroduced as a system into Europe
during the Renaissance. So far as Greece was con
cerned, the school of Abdera was an early ripening and
an early dying branch.
The school of Athenian immaterialism, the principal
tendency of Greek thought, arose from the centre of
Attic civilization and pointed to the future. It drew
its materials from practically the same sources as the
philosophy of Abdera, but the materials were polarized
about the ethical teaching of Socrates. The life of
Plato coincides with the unhappy history of Athens
after the death of Pericles (429 B. C.). The Pelopon-
nesian War began in 431 B. c., two years before the
death of Pericles and four years before the birth of
Plato ; and it did not end until 403 B. c. The event
most disastrous to the Athenians during this war
was the Sicilian expedition in 413 B. c. Athens was
120 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
captured by the Spartans in 403 B. c., and the great
walls of the city were destroyed. The remainder of
Plato's life was contemporaneous with the devastating
wars among the Greek cities, for there was no city
strong enough to hold the balance of power after it
left the hands of the Athenians. In 359 B. c. Macedon
began to loom up as a power in the north. The life of
Plato, the formulator of Athenian immaterialism, may
be easily remembered as covering that period between
the rise of Sparta and the rise of Macedon.
The Difficulties in Understanding the Teaching of
Plato. The theory of Plato is one of the most involved
and one of the most difficult to understand in the
whole history of philosophy. This difficulty of inter
preting Plato as a philosopher depends upon many
factors : upon the artistic literary form of the dialogue
in which his philosophy is presented ; upon the con
flicting tendencies of thought in Plato himself ; upon
the fact that the composition of his dialogues extended
over a period of more than half a century ; upon the con
stant reshaping of the content as well as the form of
his thought ; and upon the uncertainty of the chrono
logical order of his writings. This chronological order
of Plato's dialogues is an important factor in determin
ing his teaching. Since the beginning of the nineteenth
century a vast amount of literature has been published
on the subject, and many theories of the dialogue-chro
nology have been proposed. There are three principal
groups of theories : (1) those based upon purely a pri
ori hypotheses, as, for example, that of Hermann, that
each dialogue is a stage in the development of Plato's
thought ; or that of Schleiermacher, that Plato had a
systematic plan from the beginning ; (2) those based
PLATO 121
upon an empirical study of the historical allusions in the
dialogues themselves (Zeller, Windelband, et als.*); (3)
those recent theories based upon the " stylometric test,"
i. e. by an examination of the peculiarities of the style
of Plato. Lutoslawski is a prominent representative of
this method.
The result to the student is bewildering, on account
of the differing conclusions. But since some choice
must be made, we shall follow the order laid down by
Windelband,1 because it is fairly orthodox and con
servative. For convenience to the memory, the writings
will be grouped in the periods of Plato's life. Our in
terpretation will therefore follow Windelband in respect
to the character of Plato's theory itself.
The Life and Writings of Plato. Two important
events divide Plato's long life of eighty years into three
periods. These events were the death of his master, Soc
rates, in 399 B. c., and Plato's return from Sicily in 387
B. c., after having there come under the influence of the
Pythagoreans. His first period may be called his student
life, and was twenty-eight years long ; the second period
was that of the traveler, and was twelve years long ; the
third period was that of teacher of the Academy, and
was forty years long. The first half of his life therefore
covers the first two periods, and the second half covers
his period as teacher. Probably he was engaged in the
composition of the dialogues during all these periods,
and Cicero reports him to have died " pen in hand "
(scribens est mortuus).
i. Plato's Student Life (427-399 B.C.). This period
closes with the death of Socrates. His acquaintance with
Socrates began when he was twenty years old, and there*
fore lasted eight years.
1 Windelband, Hist, of Ancient Phil., pp. 183-189.
122 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
The dialogues written during this period are presenta
tions of the doctrine of Socrates and do not contain the
constructive theory of Plato. They are concerned either
with Socratic subjects or with Socrates personally, and
were written in part during Socrates' life, in part di
rectly after his death.
(a) Dialogues written under the influence of Soc
rates :
Lysis, concerning friendship ;
Laches, concerning courage ;
Charmides, concerning moderation.
5) Dialogues written in defense of Socrates :
Crito, concerning Socrates' fidelity to law ;
Apology, a general defense of Socrates ;
Euthryphro, concerning Socrates' true piety.
2. Plato as Traveler (399-387 B. c.). During this
period Plato made one short and two long journeys, and
after each he returned to Athens. Upon the death of
Socrates he went to Megara, where a former pupil of
Socrates had a school. Upon this journey he was accom
panied by other pupils of Socrates, who, as tradition
has it, feared violence to themselves after the death of
their master. Plato remained in Megara but a short
time, and soon returned to Athens. Immediately upon
his return to Athens he went to Cyrene and Egypt, and
was away from Athens about four years (until 395 B. c.).
The Egyptian journey had little influence upon his
thought, but must have stimulated his imagination. He
then remained at Athens four years (395-391 B. c.),
and during this time he taught a small circle and wrote
his polemics against the Sophists.
In 391 B. c. Plato made his first Italian journey — to
Sicily and southern Italy. This marks the second criti-
PLATO 123
cal point in his mental development. For at this time
(1) he came under the influence of the Italian Pythag
oreans, and (2) he attempted and failed in connection
with Dion * and Dionysius to erect his ideal state in
Syracuse. He was sold as a slave by Dionysius, re
deemed by a friend, and returned to Athens in 387 B. c.,
having been away about four years.
It is to be noted that Democritus and Plato were wide
travelers, considering the difficulties of locomotion of
the time. Both Democritus and Plato went to Egypt,
and Democritus spent several years in Asia Minor (see
p. 107).
The dialogues written during this period may be
divided into (a) the group of polemics against the
Sophists, and (6) the Meno.
(a) The polemics against the Sophists (written be
tween his return from Egypt in 395 B. c. and his first
Italian journey in 391 B. C.).
They are an attempt to present a solid front against
the Sophists, and to show the weakness of the Sophistic.
Doctrines. These polemical dialogues are :
Protagoras, a criticism of the Sophistic assumption
that virtue is teachable, because that assumption
is incompatible with the Sophistic fundamental
principle ;
Gorgias, showing how superficial the Sophistic rhet
oric is when compared with true culture, which is
the foundation of real statecraft ;
Euthydemus, an exposition of the fallacies in the
Sophistic eristic ;
, Cratylus, a criticism of the philological attempts of
the Sophists ;
* Read Wordsworth, Dion.
124 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
Thecetetus, a criticism of the Sophistic theories of
knowledge ;
The First Book of the Republic (the "Dialogue
concerning Justice "), a criticism of the Sophistic
naturalistic theory of the state.
(b) MenO) which contains the first positive state
ment by Plato of his own constructive theory. It is
the first intimation of development beyond the simple
Socratic theory of knowledge. Plato states this, how
ever, rather timidly, by suggestions and after the man
ner of a mathematician.
3. Plato as Teacher of the Academy (387-347
B. c.). These forty years were spent by Plato in Athens
as master and teacher of his school, the Academy, with
the exception of two journeys to Italy. He undertook
these journeys in the hope of realizing in a practical
way his political ideals. He made his second Italian
journey upon the invitation of Dion, in the hope of in
fluencing the younger Dionysius, and the third Italian
journey in order to reconcile Dion and Dionysius. This
last journey brought him again into great personal danger.
What was the Academy ? It was a public grove or
garden in the suburbs of Athens (see map, p. 219) that
had been left to the city for gymnastics by a public-
spirited man named Academus. It had been surrounded
by a wall and had been adorned by olive trees, statues,
and temples. Near this inclosure Plato possessed by
inheritance a small estate. It was here that he opened
his school, and few places could be more favorable for
the study of philosophy. Plato bequeathed this estate
to the school, which held the property in a corporate
capacity for several centuries. The leader of the school
was called scholarch, and he appointed his own successor.
PLATO 125
The school was a kind of religious brotherhood based
upon the worship of the Muses.
Note that Democritus, Plato, and Aristotle finished
their education at an age much beyond what is supposed
to be the limit in modern time. They were, in fact, mature
men before they began their life work. Plato was 32
before he began to teach in Athens and 40 before he
set himself about his real life task in the founding of
the Academy. Democritus was 40 before he returned to
Abdera from his travels in Asia Minor. Aristotle was
41 when he undertook to act as tutor of Alexander, and
49 when he began his administration of the Lyceum.
The dialogues of the third period of Plato's life con^
tain his constructive theory, and are his masterpieces o±
art. The topics with which they deal show the advance
of his thought over the dialogues of his first period.
The purely Socratic dialogues were ethical discussions ;
these are ethical, metaphysical, and physical.
Phcedrus, Plato's delivery of his programme upon
his entrance into active teaching in the Academy,
in 386 B. c.
Symposium, an exposition of his entire doctrine in
" love speeches." It is the most artistic of his writ
ings, and represents the climax of his intellectual
power (385 or 384 B. c.).
Republic (major portion). The composition of the
Republic extended over a long period. It is a
discussion : (1) concerning justice (written in the
second period, see above) ; (2) concerning the
ideal state which shall realize justice ; (3) concern
ing the Idea of the Good and in criticism of the
constitutions of states. It is Plato's masterpiece
and his life work.
126 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
Parmenides and Sophist, written to express the ol>
jections to the theory of Ideas, and to discuss such
objections. (Windelband holds these dialogues
were not written by Plato, but by some member
of his school. This is, however, not the consensus
of opinion.)
Politicus, a discussion of the field of knowledge
and of action for a statesman.
Phcedo, Plato's final will and testament to the school,
written shortly before his third Sicilian journey,
in 361 B. c. It is his completed conception of the
Idea of the Good and of the relation of other
Ideas to it. It contains Anaxagorean and Pythago
rean elements.
Philebus, concerning the ingredients of the Idea of
the Good.
Timceus, Plato's conception of physical nature, ex
pressed in mythical form.
Laws, the work of Plato's old age, his revision of
the ideal State.
Concerning the Dialogues1 of Plato. The early
philosophers presented their philosophy in metrical
form as poems " concerning nature " ; Socrates per
petuated his teachings through conversations with men j
Plato made his influence permanent by written dia
logues ; Aristotle's philosophy, in the works that have
been preserved, stands in the form of treatises whose
sole purpose is that of exposition. Plato's dialogues
therefore have a twofold place in the history of litera-
1 B. Jowett, Dialogues of Plato, trans, into English with analyses
and introductions, 4 vols.
See p. 158 for selections from the dialogues made by Jowett for Eng
lish readers.
PLATO 127
ture. On the one hand, in the history of literature
proper we have already mentioned them as standing
after the Greek drama in the development of Greek
dialectics ; on the other hand, in the development of
philosophical instruction they stand between the con
versations of Socrates and the scientific expositions
of Aristotle.
Plato was the first child of Fortune, and the com
plete preservation of his works was the most remark
able proof of it. ^Eschylus was the author of at least
70 writings, of which 7 are preserved ; Euripides was
the author of 95 writings, of which 18 are preserved ;
Sophocles had 123 writings, aside from his lyric works,
of which 7 are preserved. Shakespeare wrote 36 plays,
Plato wrote 35 dialogues that are genuine. All of
Plato's writings have come down to us. Why were the
writings of Plato preserved from the destroying hand
of time? There are at least three causes of their
preservation : (1) they had intrinsic beauty ; (2) there
was contemporary public interest in them ; (3) the
chief cause, Plato's school kept close guard over them.
By the dialogue Plato could employ the Socratio
method, give dramatic effect, and idealize Socrates.
The Republic is his crowning literary effort, and the
most complete statement of his mature political views.
Perhaps the Philebus is the best expression of his
idea of goodness, and presents his most complete or
ganization of the sciences. All Plato's dialogues have
a transparent beauty and a purity of diction ; and they
may be taken as a revelation of himself. All are dia
logues save the Apology, but the dialogue element
grows less and less in his later works. Socrates is usu
ally the spokesman in them, and to him is usually given
128 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
the deciding word. Only a few have a fixed plan of ar
gument. One thread and then another is followed, and
in many no decision whatever is reached ; for the dia
logues must always be taken as artistic products in
which philosophical experiences are idealized. Plato
often employs myths or parables to illuminate his ar
guments. The situations and the literary adornments
show the human touch, and the conversation often moves
to a dramatic close.
In the Republic Plato sought to formulate theo
retically certain political conceptions of the ideal State
that were then in the air. It is interesting to note that
his conception influenced the political idealism of later
time, as, for example, Cicero's De Rcpublica, August
ine's City of God, More's Utopia, Campanella's State
of the Sun, Bacon's New Atlantis, Macchiavelli's 11
Principe.
The Factors in the Construction of Plato's Doctrine.
i. His Inherited Tendencies, (a) In the first
place Plato was by instinct an aristocrat. His family
was one of the most distinguished in Athens, and traced
its descent from Solon and Codrus. In making an esti
mate of his philosophy one must take account of the
caste of society in which he was born. His metaphysi
cal theory of Ideas is aristocratic, and in it he turns
from all that is of the earth earthy to what is above
the life of " opinion." His four cardinal virtues are
possible only to the few. His political attitude was
peculiar. He was hostile to the democracy, and yet his
political idealism diverged so far from the practical
politics of Athenian aristocracy that he completely ab
stained from public life. With Plato, philosophy once
more retires to the school. Here we have the strange
PLATO 129
juxtaposition of Socrates, the teacher, who had been
engaged in a practical reformation, whose father was
an artisan and whose mother a midwife, and Plato, his
adoring pupil and truest interpreter, — Plato, the
idealist, " whose speculation is not like the Philistine,
whose life is spent in the market place or the work
shop, and whose world is measured by the narrow
boundaries of his native town ; it is the lord of the
manor, who retires to his mansion, after having seen
the world, and turns his gaze towards the distant hori
zon ; disdaining the noise of the cross-roads, he mingles
only in the best society, where is heard the most ele
gant, the noblest, and the loftiest language that has
ever been spoken in the home of the Muses." 1
(b) In the next place Plato had an instinctive love
for the beautiful, and in this he was great, even in his
time. Every Periclean Greek was artistic, but Plato
was more than this. He is to be ranked among the
great creators of the art of his day, — with Phidias and
Sophocles. He represented in his person everything
ideally Greek. He was a man of great beauty, a human
Apollo, a man endowed with every physical and mental
talent, and his moral character was almost ideal in its
purposes. His real name was Aristocles, and he got his
name Plato from his broad frame. The artistic devel
opment of the time appealed to him in his youth, and
he was early interested in the writing of epic and dra
matic poetry. This artistic instinct determined in no
small measure not only the form of the presentation of
his thought, but also the content of the thought itself.
It determined his principle of conceiving the Ideas, the
constitution of his State, his theory of pleasure, and his
1 Goethe.
130 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
conception of the highest Good. The artistic form of
the presentation of his writings was as important to
him as the matter presented.
2. His Philosophical Sources. Plato had received
a careful education that made him familiar with all
the scientific theories of current interest to the Athe
nians. The elements of the earlier philosophies, that
were fundamental to the mechanical atomism of De-
inocritus, were recombined in a different way by Plato
under the influence of Socrates' ethical principle. Even
Plato's political and artistic ideals are subordinate to
his entire absorption in the personality and teaching of
Socrates. Heracleitus, Protagoras, Parmenides, and,
later, Anaxagoras and the Pythagoreans, furnished
him with his philosophical materials. We may point
out three of the preceding philosophies that had an
especially powerful influence upon him: those of (1)
Socrates ; (2) Parmenides ; and (3) the Pythagoreans.
His revered master, Socrates, furnished Plato through
out with the conceptual principle, by which he worked
over all his material into his daring system. The influ
ence of Parmenides upon him was also very great. He
speaks of the Eleatic as " Parmenides, my father."
Plato betook himself to the Eleatic school at Megara
upon the death of Socrates, and this shows that he
must already have been hospitable to the philosophy
which taught the conception of an absolute and eternal
essence of things known by the human reason. The in
fluence of the Pythagoreans was felt by Plato on his
first visit to Italy. This influence grew with him, and
seems to dominate the dialogue of his old age, the
Laws. The Eleatic Oneness was a single, immutable
block. In the Pythagorean doctrine of numbers he
PLATO 131
found the conceptual divisions of that Oneness, and he
also found that such conceptions would give a content
to Socrates' conception of the Good. Indeed, the num
bers seemed to be the conceptual models for which
Socrates was searching. Mathematical truths are inde
pendent of perception. They are innate ideas. They
are eternal and immutable Forms. They were the
weapons needed against the Protagorean doctrine of
perception. While Plato agreed with Heracleitus that
the visible world is a changing world, and with Pro
tagoras that our sense-perceptions of that world can
yield only relative truth, he developed his philosophy
almost entirely on its conceptual side ; and this is due
to the influence first of Socrates, second of Parmenides,
and third of the Pythagoreans. Plato's completed
philosophy was the theory of Ideas., worked over in his
mind a half-century or more, and is in itself a history
of the development of pure concepts.
The Divisions of Plato's Philosophy. Plato himself
had no clear conception of an exact division of science,
and did not confine himself in a single dialogue to a
single science. Aristotle, however, distinguished in the
philosophy of his master dialectic, ethics, and physics,
and these divisions of Plato's teaching have been tra
ditionally adopted. The dialectic, as commonly used in 1
his time, meant " the dialogue or conversation employed )
as a means of scientific investigation." It was trans- I
formed by Plato to mean not logical but metaphysical
discussion. Plato was concerned with the laws of Being
rather than the laws of logic, and, as Being to him
consisted of Ideas, his dialectic interest was to reduce
experience by division and induction to some unity.
Plato's dialectic was not logical but methodological, —
132 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
logical operations taken as a whole, — by means of
which the Ideas and their relations to one another were
to be found. The physics of Plato is of little value. It
was an afterthought to satisfy the demands of his school.
The world of nature phenomena could never be for Plato
the object of true knowledge. Unfortunately, the teleo-
logical physics of Plato was regarded by the Hellen
istic time and the Middle Ages as Plato's most im
portant achievement. Plato wrote entirely in the spirit
of the Enlightenment, and his works show a great inter
est in man as a moral being, but little interest in physi
cal nature.
Summary of Plato's Doctrine. The interpretation of
Plato as set forth in what follows may be thus sum
marized : Plato began with the conceptual form of ideal
ism, suggested by the logical method of Socrates, with
the purpose of solving logical and ethical problems. He
advanced to a teleological idealism, conditioned by the
doctrines of Anaxagoras and the Pythagoreans, with the
purpose of applying his doctrine to physical problems.
The Formation of Plato's Metaphysics. In his ear
liest period Plato made these very clear statements:
(1) virtue is knowledge; (2) by knowledge is not meant
sense-perceptions. In his final statement ofTus philo
sophy, as he bequeathed it to posterity, he only gave a
new evaluation of these two early principles, although
he expressed them in a highly complex form. " Virtue
is knowledge " is the basis of agreement between Socra
tes and the Sophists ; and " by knowledge is not meant
sense-perceptions " is the basis of their opposition.
During Plato's early period he was acting as a faithful
transcriber of Socrates in the presentation of this first
principle : virtue is knowledge, is teachable, is one. Dur-
PLATO 133
ing Plato's second period he was called on to defend the
second statement against the Sophists. Plato's formation
of his own theory begins at this point, — at the point
where his defense of his master was keenest. From this
time, for a full half -century, Plato developed the Socra-
tic principles in a theory that went far beyond Socrates,
but that was never untrue to him.
The simplest way of stating Plato's formation of his •
own doctrine is this : he accepted the Protagorean doc
trine of a perceptual world of relative knowledge ; he
placed it beside the Socratic theory of conceptual reality ;
and as a result be conceived the world to be twofold.
Both Being and Becoming share in reality^. There are, on
thejjnejside, the immutable concepts that compose true
reality ; there are« on the other sjde^lbe changing ppr-
ceptions that come and govThe world of true £eality_is,
but never becomes ; the world of relative reality becomes,
but never is. These two worlds are by nature separate ;
one is the object of the reason, the other is the object*
of the senses ; one is incorporeal, the other is corporeal.
The first world is the immutable One of the Eleatics •"
presented by Plato as a plural number of Socratic con
cepts ; the other world is the Heracleitan flux presented -
as perceivable things. There is true knowledge, but
Protagoras is right in saying that it cannot be found in
the perception of the material world. It is knowledge
of an incorporeal world, and that is precisely the world
of Socratic concepts which now in Plato's hands become
Ideas.
It would, however, be a mistake to suppose that
Plato's conception of the world was an artificial eclec
ticism, obtained by putting two worlds side by side. To
be sure, he never was able to bring them into an organic
134 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
unity, and the dualism between them is often very
marked. But they do not lie like two drawers in a
desk, each having no vital influence on the character of
the other. In the juxtaposition of the two worlds each
gets a new meaning, and the value of each becomes
greater.
In the first place, perception l gets a new value. The
logic of the Sophistic doctrine of perception was that
perceptions are the only form of knowledge, and even
perceptions have no share of truthfulness. Protagoras
himself did not go so far as this absolute skepticism,
but this is the logic of his position. Perceptions can
have no value, because each is a standard to itself.
Plato incorporates the perception theory into his cwn,
and immediately gives it a new value. Perceptions do I
font thfty havg q \
relative_jvalue. They have a value for the practical \
world, although the highest they can give is Right Opin
ion. When we remember that the world of that day was
weary of its own speculations leading to nihilism, it is
remarkable that Plato did not turn away entirely from
the doctrine of the Sophists. On the contrary, he took
up the Sophistic doctrine into his own and gave to it a
value which it had not possessed by itself.
In the second place, conception gets a new value.
What was conception to Socrates ? It was the common
content of opinions and perceptions ; it was the uni
versal that was developed inductively out of many par
ticulars. Socrates brought many particulars together in
order to reveal their common qualities. The abode of
conceptions was to Socrates the half -formed individual
opinions and experiences in which conception lay, as in
1 For the distinction between perception and conception, see p. 83.
PLATO 135
an envelope ; and the conversation was needed to bring
it forth. The concept to Socrates was the logical " na
ture " of perceptions. But now since Plato admitted the
relative reality of all perceptions, he was obliged to look
elsewhere to account for conceptions. If the conceptions
are true reality, they cannot be the common quality in
opinions, nor the logical " nature " of changing percep
tions. The true conception cannot be contained in the
perception. Accordingly the conception must exist in an \
incorporeal world and possess an independent reality.
The concepts are hypostasized by Plato. They become
Ideas. Thus the Socratic concept became the Platonic
Idea and foT tJin first. ti,vn.p. in T^tivfvnp.ftfrt. tJi-QUdJlt* TCdl-
\ty is conceived as immaterial* The conceptual world
grows under Plato's hands to be "other than" the
perceptual world, and this was his first step beyond
Socrates. The_ conceptual world Jsjfche perfect reality .
jhaj^annotj^contained in any material thing nor in (
the sum of all material things. The immaterial Ideas
are the object of thought, as nature phenomena are the
objects of perception. Ideas are not the abstractions of
perceptions, for the process of thought is not an ana
lysis nor an abstraction, but an intuition of reality pre
sented in single instances. Ideas are the reality of which
perceptions are the copies or shadows. Perceptions do
not contain the truth. They are only the suggestions or
promptings by which the soul bethinks itself of the
Ideas. Material things merely hint to the soul of the
existence of the Ideas.
It is important in this connection to point out that
Plato's conception of immateriality is not to be taken
as what we mean in modern times by the spiritual or
psychical ; for, according to Plato, our psychical funo
136 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
tions belong to the world of Becoming, just as the funo.
tions of our body and other perceptual things belong
to it. Besides, even the Ideas of sense qualities have
reality. Plato does not identify the human mind with
the incorporeal world of Ideas, nor does he make the
modern dualistic division of the world into mind and
matter. The immaterial world is " other than " the
world of perception, and bears the relation to the mate
rial world of the unchanging to the changing, of the
simple to the manifold, of Being to Becoming.
The Development of Plato's Metaphysics — The
Development of Plato's Ideas in the Two Drafts. The
twofold world with its new evaluation of the Socratic
conception and of the Protagorean perception was, after
all, only Plato's point of departure for his constructive
work. It was his first and undeveloped apprehension
of a theory of Ideas. It appeared first in the Meno in
his doctrine of recollection and immortality, which was
written in his second period just after his series of
splendid polemics against the Sophists. From this time
for a full half-century Plato developed the conception
of a twofold world into a Theory of Ideas. In the course
of time he found himself confronted with three prob
lems : (1) How many Ideas are there ? (2) What is
the relation between Ideas and physical things ? (3)
What is the relation of the Ideas to one another ?
Plato's answers to these three questions compose what
is known as his Theory of Ideas. However, he answers
these three questions differently when he first consid
ered them than later, when his grasp upon the signifi
cance of his problem became more mature. Plato's
Theory of Ideas, therefore, may be said to have had a
development in two stages. These two stages are called
PLATO 137
his "two drafts" (Windelband) of the Ideas. We
shall now present, first in summary form and then in
more detail, his answers to these three questions in the
two drafts, and thereby show how his theory developed
to its final formulation.
Brief Comparison of the Two Drafts of the Ideas.
1. The Earlier Draft of Ideas.
(a) The Number of Ideas is infinite.
(6) The Relation of Ideas to Physical Things is
similarity. The Ideas on their side are spoken of as
having a " presence " in physical things, but never fully
appearing in them ; the physical phenomena on their
side are spoken of as " participating " in the Ideas.
(c) The Ideas are Related to One Another logic
ally, as genera to species, but they are only roughly clas
sified by Plato.
2. The Later Draft of Ideas — Plato's Final State-
ment.
(«) The Number of Ideas is limited to those of
worth, mathematical relations., and nature-products, but
Plato never arrived at any definite selection.
(5) The Relation of Ideas to Physical Things is
tejejplo^icaLjrhe Ideas are the ideal or purposeful ends
of physical objects,.
(c) The Ideas are Related to One Another teleolog-
ically. The Idea of the Good stands at the Lead, and
is the purposeful end of all the other Ideas.
Comparison of the Two Drafts of Ideas in More
Detail.
i. The Number of Ideas in the Earlier and Later
Drafts compared. When Plato first presented the
Theory of Ideas to himself, he conceived their number
to be infinite. There are Ideas of everything that is
138 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
thinkable. There are as many as there are class con«
cepts, as there are qualities of things in the universe,
as there are common nouns in the language. But
it was pointed out to Plato that he had only repro
duced and paralleled in the immaterial world what
exists in the material world ; that such a theory did
not solve, but only doubled our difficulties. Then there
were technical difficulties in the conception of the Ideas
of everything — of things, qualities, relations, — good,
bad, and indifferent. But what probably appealed to
him most cogently was the raillery to which he found
his theory subjected (see Parmenides), that he as a
Greek could think of ugly Ideas, like hair and filth, as
real. The result was that in the later drafting of his
theory the number of qualities worthy to be called
Ideas becomes very much limited. Plato makes the
elimination from no avowed principle except that of
worth, because as a Greek it was absolutely repel
lent to him to regard anything as real except worth.
Consequently in his later dialogues he speaks of (1)
Ideas having an inherent value, like the Good arid the
Beautiful, (2) Ideas corresponding to nature products,
(3) Ideas of mathematical relations. Norms of value
thus take the place of class-concepts, and in his selec
tion of Ideas his choice is determined more and more
by their moral worth.
2. The Relation of Ideas and the World of Nature
in the Two Drafts compared. Plato did not con
struct his world of Ideas in order to explain the world
of physical nature. His original purpose was to find
an object for knowledge ; and his Ideas were born out
of his striving to give a reality to the conceptions of
Socrates. In his evaluation of the doctrine of his mas-
PLATO 139
ter he had drawn a distinction between the two worlds,
but he had not thought of explaining one by the other.
They were related and distinguished, but one threw no
light upon the other. In Plato's first draft of the Ideas
he speaks of this relation as imitation. The pheno
mena are an imitation of reality. The Ideas are the
originals and physical objects are copies. To state the
relation in modern terms, the laws of the growth of a
tree are permanent, while the tree changes. The lower
world of Becoming has a similarity to the higher world
of Being. As the Pythagoreans had conceived things!
as imitations of numbers, Plato, strongly influenced by\
the Pythagoreans, thought that concrete things corre
spond to their class concepts only in a degree. On the
one hand, the individual thing partakes of the universal
of the Idea, and this is called "participation" in the
Idea. On the other hand, the word " presence " de
scribes the way the Idea exists in the thing, which
means that the Idea is present in the thing so long as
the thing possesses the quality of the Idea. The Ideas
are present and then withdraw, and thus the perception
changes.
In the second drafting of the Ideas, Plato has become
conscious of the need of explaining physical nature
by the Ideas. He did not at first think of explain
ing the nature of the physical world by his metaphysi
cal reality. It was an afterthought, and arose out of
the compulsion of having a systematic theory. Hi?
conception of the world of Ideas as the world of true
Being ultimately demanded that the world of physical
nature should be not merely " other than " but depend
ent upon the Ideas. The Ideas are unchanging; the
phenomena are changing. If the Ideas are the reality
140 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
of the changing world, in what other sense can they
be its reality than as its cause ? The Meno, Thecete-
tus, Symposium, and Phcedrus do not discuss this
problem. The /Sophist proposes it, and in the Phcedo
the thought is first expressed that the Ideas are the
causes of physical phenomena appearing as they do
appear. But how can the Ideas be causes, when the
very conception of them as pure and immaterial real
ities denies to them all qualities of motion and change ?
The Platonic theory reached its zenith in its solution
of this problem. The Ideas must be conceived as the
causes of nature phenomena, and still as not moving
nor suffering change. They are teleological causes.
They are the realized ends of the phenomenal world.
The world of Ideas is the actual goal of perfection for
physical nature. The world of Ideas is not only the
truth of all knowledge ; it is also the perfect teleologi
cal cause of all actual change. This thought is devel
oped in the Philebus and the Republic, where the
Ideas as a whole, and in particular the Idea of the
Good, — to which all the other Ideas are means, —
stand as the final cause of all occurrence. The physical
phenomena stand therefore in a teleological relation to
the Idea of the Good. From the Good all things get
their meaning. It permeates and explains all.
3. The Relation among the Ideas in the Two Drafts
compared. It was natural that the conception of a
pluralism of Ideas should lead Plato to a consideration
of the law of their relationship. A systematic theory
of a multiplicity of reals involves their orderly relation
ship. They cannot exist independently in the same
world. What is the relationship among the Ideas ? In
the earlier drafting of his theory Plato was principally
PLATO 141
attentive to the relations of coordination and subordi
nation among the Ideas ; in the possibility of the divi
sion of class concepts into genera and species. The
relationship that he sought was logical relationship, the
relationship that the scientist seeks to find in the clas
sification of plants or rocks. Just what result Plato
tried to reach by such a logical classification of his
realities, it is difficult to say. He was not successful.
His attempt to erect a logically arranged pyramid of
conceptions with the most abstract at the apex was not
carried out.
In his second drafting of the Ideas, Plato felt the
inadequacy of a mere logical relationship among them,
and conceived them to be teleologically related. His
reduction of the number of Ideas had naturally brought
about a new conception of their relationship. There
must be some principle for their elimination, for the
rejecting of some and the keeping of others. That
principle was the principle of their ethical worth. That
is to say, the Idea of the Good, which had been the
standard for eliminating some concepts from the list
of Ideas and for retaining others, now became for him
the principle of the relationship of the Ideas among
themselves. Plato turned from the logical to the teleo-
logical relation among Ideas. The Idea of the Good
embraces and realizes all the others. It is therefore the
absolute end of all the other Ideas, and they bear the
relation to it, not of particulars to a general term, but;
of means to an end. The principle in their selection
becomes the principle of their arrangement.
Plato's Conception of God. The above sketch of the
formation and development of Plato's theory of Ideaa
shows how difficult it would be to frame a short defini-
142 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
tion of them that would at the same time be adequate.
As he finally defined them, they are immaterial arche
types or ideals, dominated by a moral purpose. This
dominating moral purpose in the Ideas is the highest
Idea of all, the Idea of the Good, which stands above
all the others and gives to them and to everything else
their value and indeed their actuality.
Is this Idea of the Good the same as God? Plato
calls the Good " Deity " and the " World Reason," and
ascribes to it the name of Nous. Nevertheless the Idea
of the Good is not the same as the Christian God, and
Plato is only showing here the influence of Anaxagoras'
conception upon him. (See p. 47.) The Idea of the
Good is not a person or a spiritual being. It is merely
the absolute ethical end and purpose of the world.
Plato did not attempt to give it a content, any more
than did his master, Socrates ; but Plato presupposed
it, because it was in itself the simplest and most com
prehensible thing in the world.
Plato's Conception of Physical Nature. Plato con
structed a rough sketch of the philosophy of nature in
his later years, in compliance with the needs of his
School, and perhaps with the urging of his pupil, Aris
totle. In his earlier period, he would have nothing of
physics, and was in this respect quite in accord with
the spirit of Socrates. To the end of his life he
maintained that there can be no true knowledge of the
physical world ; for it is a world of change, and there
fore all scientific conclusions about it could be only
probable. In a mythical account in the Timceus he drew
a picture of the constitution of the world. He conceived
a Demiurge or world-forming God to exist, and he
thought that this God made the world out of not-Being
PLATO 143
or empty space " with regard to the Ideas." The world
thus constructed is conceived by Plato as a huge living
thing, composed of a visible body and an invisible soul.
The world-soul sets the world-body in a circular motion,
which motion was considered by antiquity to be the most
perfect of all motions. In sharp opposition to the me
chanical theory of the world, Plato conceived the world
to be endowed with knowledge, of which the spherical
motion in its return upon itself is the symbol. The world
is unitary and unique, the most perfect and most beau
tiful world, and its origin can be traced only to a reason
working toward ends. Plato's physics, of which the
above is an abbreviated account, will be seen to be of
little importance ; but it was unfortunately, as we have
said, this side of his doctrine that was emphasized in
the Middle Ages.
This mythical account shows, however, the inherent
dualism in Plato's doctrine. The Idea never fully real
izes itself in corporeal things, and Plato was called on
to explain the cause of the evil and imperfection of
the physical world. Moreover, the imperfection of the
physical world got new emphasis in the influence upon
him of the Pythagorean doctrine, which had set the per
fect and imperfect worlds in opposition. What prevent!
the Idea from fully appearing in phenomena ? The more
Plato conceived the world of Ideas as ethical Ideals
and a kingdom of pure worth, and the more teleological
the Ideas became, the less could he regard the Ideas
as the cause of imperfection in nature. Ideas are Be
ing, and the essence of perfection. The cause of im
perfection must therefore be that which has no being
whatsoever. The physical world as "becoming" has
participation, not only in that which has Being (Ideas),
144 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
but in that which has no Being (empty space). The
physical world has a composite character. It has sprung
from the union of the Ideas and an absolutely negative
factor, which Plato calls empty space. This eternal
negative is formless and unfashioned, but it is capable
of taking on all possible forms. The physical universe
is therefore neither Ideas simply, nor matter simply,
but a composition of the two. This non-Being is not
like the matter, "unformed stuff," of Aristotle, from
which all sensible things are made ; but it is that in
which Ideas have to appear. The Ideas are plunged
into this empty non-Being, which they take on as a veil.
And just this is the origin of imperfection ; non-Being
withholds the Ideas from perfect expression. Non-
Being, or empty space, is an indispensable auxiliary to
the Ideas, for without it no physical universe would be
possible. But at the same time it is the eternal foe and
obstruction of the Ideas. Its cooperation with the Ideas
is at the same time a resistance to them. It is the
perpetual negation of Being, and the primary cause of
imperfection, change, and instability. On this account
the universe can never be like the Ideas, but it can
approximate them. The soul of the world, for example,
— which was regarded by Plato in Pythagorean fashion
as number subjecting chaotic space to harmony, — is
the most perfect reproduction of the Idea of the Good.
The existence of matter detracts from the perfection of
the world, but it does not detract from the majesty of
the Ideas.
Plato's Conception of Man. Plato needed a psycho
logy of another sort from that developed by the Cos-
mologists. His analysis of the mental life of man stands
or falls with his metaphysical theory of Ideas, but it
PLATO 145
has this importance : it is the first attempt to under
stand the psychical life from within.
The dualism of the two worlds appears in sharp out
lines in the narrower field of the life of man. The soul
of man belongs to both worlds. On the one hand, it
belongs to the world of Becoming and partakes of that
world through its sense-perceptions, desires, and their
pleasures. In this lower world it is the principle of
life and motion ; it is that which moves itself and other
things. On the other hand, it shares in the world of
Being through its intuitive reason or knowledge. It
shares in the instability and change of psychical phe
nomena ; it also possesses the immutability of reality.
Through its perceptions it constructs its " opinions "
or inferences of changing phenomena ; through its rea
son it has true knowledge of the eternal Ideas. There
fore the soul must bear in itself traits that correspond
to the two worlds. Plato conceives man to have an ir
rational and a rational nature ; and he divides the irra
tional nature into two parts, — the noble irrational part
and the ignoble irrational part. The rational part of
man is the reason, the noble irrational part is the will,
the ignoble irrational part is the sensuous appetites.
( Rational nature = reason.
Man | ( Noble = will
( Irrational nature < Ignoble = sensuous appe-
( tites.
This is the celebrated doctrine of the " three parts "
of the soul. Are they three parts or three functions of
the soul ? Plato is not clear as to this point. He some
times speaks of them as three divisions, and treats them
as separable in such a way that only the reason is im
mortal and the other two parts are mortal. Again, he
146 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
speaks of the soul as a unity, which carries with it in
the next life all three functions. In this latter meaning
the three parts are three natures or three different de
grees of worth of the unitary soul.
Plato's Doctrine of Immortality. Beginning with
this conception of the dual nature of the human soul,
Plato reasons both backward and forward from it:
backward to its pre-existence, and forward to its post-
existence, — its existence after death. In the JPhcedo,
Plato has put into the mouth of what has become his
Platonized Socrates his final thought concerning the
relation of this present life to its past and its future. It
is plainly the doctrine of the transmigration of souls,
which he got from the Pythagoreans. The soul has a
reality that is imperishable, and the soul is rewarded
or punished for its conduct in one existence by the kind
of existence into which it is metamorphosed. In prison,
on that fatal day when he drank the poison, Socrates
explained to those around him why he was so cheerful
at the thought of death. Is not our present existence a
kind of death ? Is not the soul in the present life de
terred from true knowledge by the trammels of the
bodily desires ? The true philosopher is he who turns
away from his body's passions, — dies to them, and
tries to live the reality of the world of Ideas. We shall
have full knowledge when we pass beyond the grave
and then we shall be rewarded, if we have striven truly.
But at present our body hampers and misleads us with
its perceptions of changing mortality around us, and
with its transitory desires. This life itself is the reward
or punishment for our conduct in our preceding state.
i. The Immortality of Pre-existence. What proof
does Plato offer for our existence before this life ? The
PLATO 147
Ideas, these testimonies of reality, form a part of the
human soul. They are eternal, and have not been ere
ated by the soul. Knowledge is not the origination of
a new truth, but is the recognition of Ideas, whose
presence the mind merely records. Greek psychology
never got much farther than this. The modern psycho
logical conception of the soul as a dynamic something,
which creates its own content, was quite foreign to the
Greeks. To Plato, as to all other Greeks, the soul is as
passive as the wax that receives the impress of the seal.
All Greek psychology was under this general limita
tion : all ideas must be " given " to the soul. There
fore if the Ideas are not " given " by perception, be
cause perception is of the changing ; if nevertheless
the soul finds itself in possession of the Ideas on the
occasion of perception ; if the soul did not create the
Ideas, because the soul is by nature passive ; the logi
cal and only conclusion is that the soul was already in
possession of the Ideas in a pre-existent state. Pre-
existence is the only way of accounting for the full-
born knowledge of the soul, and it is interesting to note
how important was the pre-existent state to the imagi
nation of the ancient world.
Plato therefore advanced the doctrine of reminis
cence, or as he called it, Anamnesis, as proof of our
pre-existence. Knowledge is recollection. The Ideas
have always been present in the mind, and when we
recognize them we have knowledge. The Ideas have no
past or future, but they always exist. It is the mind
that undergoes awakening — an awakening to their
existence in itself. When the mind sees the objects of
physical nature, it awakens in painful astonishment at
the contrast between the sense world and the Ideas of
148 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
its native world of immateriality. In a mythical repre«
sentation in the Phcedrus, Plato supposes that be
fore the present life our souls have beheld the pure
Ideas in their full reality, that the Ideas had been for
gotten in our birth into the present life, but that the
perception of similar corporeal things calls the soul
back to the Ideas themselves. Then the " Eros " is
awakened — the native philosophical impulse or inborn
love for the Ideas, by which the soul is raised again to
the knowledge of that true reality. Only the pure Ideas
themselves will satisfy this longing ; the embodiment of
the Ideas in art or personalities is not adequate. The
Eros ties us to the Ideas. God does not have this long
ing, for He fully knows the Good. The ignorant man
does not have this longing, for he does not suspect the
existence of the Ideas in himself. The Eros is the
homesickness that the lover of the truth feels.
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting,
The soul that rises in us, our life's star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar ;
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God, who is our home.*
When, in the Meno, the Sophistic dilemma was pro
posed to Socrates, " How can inquiry be made into what
we know or into what we don't know ? " Socrates
pointed out that the only escape from the dilemma was
the process of recollecting, and that knowledge is the
thing recalled. Socrates then called a slave to him, and
by skillfully questioning him found that the slave re-
* Read Wordsworth's Ode on Intimations of Immortality.
PLATO 149
cognized the mathematical relationship between the
square on the hypothenuse of a right triangle and the
sums of the squares on the other two sides. " The igno
rant slave can only have been recollecting," says Soc
rates. Mathematical knowledge is extracted from the
sense-perception of the slave only because the slave has
through such perception the opportunity of recollecting
Ideas present in himself and not hitherto suspected by
himself. In Plato's system, mathematical forms have an
important place. They are the links by means of which
the Idea shapes space teleologically into the sense world.
2. The Immortality of Post-Existence. Plato's
ground for belief in the existence of soul after death is
practically the same as that for its previous existence.
Its destiny hereafter depends upon how far it has
freed itself in this earthly life from the sensuous appe
tite. As proofs for future existence Plato mentions the
soul's possession of the Ideas, the simplicity and unity
of the soul, the soul as the principle of life, and t^he
goodness of God. However weak Plato's arguments
may be for the existence of future immortality, his ab
solute belief in it is one of the chief points in his teach
ing. It is interesting to note that the modern western
world seems to have no concern in the previous state of
the soul, but through the influence of the Christian
religion has focused its attention upon the future life.
Oriental religions contain the doctrine of pre-existence
and the transmigration of souls, but not in the same
sense as Plato. In Plato the soul possesses an identity
that persists. It has all the qualities of the Ideas, but
is also an entity possessing these qualities. It has non-
origination, indestructibility, unity, and changelessness.
The doctrine of the immortality of post-existence had
150 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
appeared in the Greek religion, but this is the first time
that we have found it as a part of philosophic teaching.
The student will, of course, feel the difficulties in Plato's
conception as he has presented it. For how can the
soul preserve its individuality as a unity, when the soul
belongs in part to a world which is temporal?
The Two Tendencies in Plato. From the doctrine of
the two worlds there are two distinct tendencies run
ning through the entire teaching of Plato. These are
(1) the tendency to glorify nature, and (2) the tendency
to turn away from nature to ascetic contemplation. On
the one hand, Plato felt within himself the light heart
beat of the artist, and the Hellenic love of life was
strong within him. He felt that the Idea of the Good
was realized even in the world of sense, that there was
pleasure in the sensuous imitation of the Idea, in prac
tical artistic skill, and in an intelligent understanding
of mathematical orderings. These were at least prepa
rations for the highest Good, which consisted in know
ledge of the Ideas. On the other hand, one finds beside
this the ascetic tendency to be repelled by nature, a
negative ethics that would leave the world of sense and
would spiritualize the life. The Theaztetus sets up an
ideal of retirement for the philosopher, and points out
that he should find refuge as soon as possible from the
evils of the world in the divine presence. The Phcedo
pictures the whole life of the philosopher as a dying, a
purification of the soul, an existence in prison, from
which escape is only by virtue and knowledge. This
ascetic tendency seems very anti-Greek ; and yet is it
foreign to Greek life? In Greek history do we not
find, by the side of the Epic and the glorification of
nature, the Mysteries and the withdrawal of the indi'
PLATO 151
vidual from the world ? Both these historic tendencies
appear in Plato, and on the whole the ascetic tendency-
is stronger. The Ideas are contrasted with the nature
world more often than they transfigure it. The dualism
of Heaven and earth is emphasized, and the contrast
is strongly drawn between the reality of the Ideas and
the temporality of sense.
Platonic Love. Described in technical terms, in both
Socrates and Plato, Love (Eros) is the philosophic and
not a purely intellectual impulse. Its rather more didac
tic character in Socrates of an attempt to engender
knowledge and virtue in others appears in Plato in a
larger way as the personal and practical realization of
the truth. Reduced to its simplest terms, Platonic Love
is the longing of the human being in his imperfectness
for perfectness and completeness. It is the innate de
sire for immortality.
True love, according to Plato, takes its beginning in
the astonishment or pain at the presentment of the
Ideas through remembrance, and the starting-point of
Love in an individual is the principle fundamental in
pre-existence. The philosophic impulse for the Ideas
takes the form of Love, because visible beauty has a
special brightness and makes a strong impression on the
mind. Love belongs only to mortal natures ; for they,
since they do not possess the divine unchangeableness,
have to propagate themselves continually. Love may be
described therefore as the propagative impulse. On the
one side it may be viewed as an inspiration from above,
springing from the higher, divinely-related nature in
man ; on the other hand it may be viewed as an aspira
tion from below of the sensuous and human in man.
On this side it is a yearning and not a possession ; and
152 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
it presupposes a want. Analyzed in this way, Love is
the middle term between having and not having. It is
the union of the higher and lower natures in man, and
throughout the universe there stirs this longing for the
eternal and imperishable.
What is the object of this Love, — of this desire of the
finite to fill itself with the eternal and to generate some
thing enduring? That object is the possession of the
Good, which is happiness. The possession of the Good
is immortality. What is the external condition of Love's
existence ? The presence of Beauty ; for this alone, by
its harmonious form, corresponds to our desire and
awakens it. Does this Love appear first in its complete
realization? No; there are many kinds of beauty, and
Love is as various in degree and kind as beautiful ob
jects. Love rises step by step, and is realized in a gradu
ated series of forms. There is Love for beautiful shapes,
sexual love ; Love for beautiful souls, and this appears
in works of art, education, and legislation ; Love for
beautiful sciences, the seeking of beauty wherever found;
and finally Love for the pure, shapeless, eternal, and
unchangeable — the Idea, which is immortality. All else
is preliminary to the dialectical knowledge of the Ideas.
In all this, man is reaching out from his sense of want
for satisfaction, from his poverty to the completed riches
of life. Love bears him on from height to height until,
in religion and Love of the Good, man gains his immor
tality. In Platonic Love all kinds of Love have place
in pointing the soul onward to the divinely perfect.
Yet this Love for the divinely perfect is the soul's as
piration from the beginning, and all the preliminary
stages are only the uncertain attempts to seize the Idea
in the copies. Love, therefore, is this universal struggle
PLATO 153
of the finite to inform itself with the Idea; and delight
in any one object of beauty is a stage in the development
of this impulse.*
Plato's Theory of Ethics. Plato's Theory of Ideas is,
after all, fundamentally only an outspoken ethical meta
physics, and his Ethics is his most fruitful accomplish
ment. Plato's ethical teaching is therefore involved in
all that we have said about him up to this point. An
understanding of his ethics includes an understanding
of the formation and growth of his dialectic, an insight
into his physical theory, knowledge of the two tenden
cies which run through his teaching, and especially an
understanding of his doctrine of Love. If some of the
pravious exposition is repeated, it will be only to bring
out more fully his ethical teaching as a special science.
We shall speak of three topics under this general sub-
jact of his ethics: (1) his development of his theory of
the Good; (2) the four cardinal virtues; (3) his theory
of political society.
i. Development of Plato's Theory of the Good. Plato
betrays his ascetic tendency in his first drafting of the
Ideas and, as we have said, the double-world theory is
the cause of this. Only one of the two worlds is real
and will appeal to the Wise Man. The soul belongs to
the supersensible world, and the knowledge, of which
virtue consists, takes man away from the sensible world.
Since earthly life is full of evil, the soul should die to
it and turn away as soon as possible to the divine pres
ence. This ascetic aspect of morality is set forth in the
Phcedo and the Thecetetus.
* Read Edmund Spenser, Hymn in Honor of Beauty ;
Emerson, Essay on Love, also the poem on Initial, Daemonic,
ond Celestial Love ; Bacon, Essay on Love ; Patmore, Angel
in the House ; Sill, The Two Aphrodites.
154 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
In the general development of his metaphysics in the
second drafting of his Ideas, Plato's ethical theory de
veloped also. He not only went beyond the abstract
statement of Socrates, but beyond his own original
asceticism. When he brought his two worlds into teleo-
logical relationship, he was logically compelled to aban
don his conception of ascetic morals. The physical world
has now a relative reality, and by the same sign sense-
life has a relative moral value. It was Plato's firm
conviction that moral conduct makes man truly blessed,
in this and another world. He still held, too, that this
blessedness, this complete perfection of the soul, this
sharing in the divine world of the Ideas, is the Highest
Good. Yet he now came to recognize other kinds of
happiness as steps toward the ideal Good. There are
varieties of Goods, as appeared in his doctrine of Love.
Besides the intuition of knowledge and its pleasures,
there are physical Goods and their pleasures. Intellectual
pleasure may be unmixed with pain, but there are also
sensuous pleasures unmixed with pain. Here is indeed
Plato, the Greek, speaking; Plato, the Greek artist,
impelled by the charm of the Greek world around him.
Strongly as he combated the Cyrenaic hedonism, and
closely as he was allied to Socrates, his Greek nature
gave way before the manifestations of the Idea of the
Good in the physical world. The pleasure in nature ob
jects, in educational development, in the practical and
plastic arts, in mathematical sciences, and in the order
liness of life — all these became for him preliminary
stages in the full participation in the ethical Good. They
came to have for him a relative value, as expressed in
the Philebus, Republic, and Symposium.
2. The Four Cardinal Virtues. But Plato went
PLATO 155
farther, and was not content merely to point out the
place of human conduct in the twofold world. He de
veloped his theory of ethics systematically. He classified
the virtues on the basis of his threefold division of the
soul. Naturally enough, in his first draft of his theory,
Plato followed Socrates in reducing the single virtues
to one, viz., the virtue of knowledge. In his second
drafting, however, in the later dialogues, he assumed
their distinct independence, and he reflected upon their
respective spheres. A virtue corresponds to each part
of the soul. Each part has its own perfection, which is
its virtue. Moreover, in so far as one or another part
of the soul preponderates in different men, so far are
they suited to developing the corresponding virtue.
{Rational nature in brain — ( Wis
dom) f Noble part — in heart
Irrational na- I (CW^e)
ture 1 Ignoble part — in liver
(^ ( Temperance)
From the above scheme it will be observed that the
rational nature has the brain as its organ and reaches
its perfection or virtue in Wisdom ; that the ignoble
irrational nature has the liver as its organ, and reaches
its virtue in self-control or Temperance. Finally, since
the perfection of the whole soul consists in the orderly
relation of its single parts, so subordinated and regu
lated that the soul can reach its highest perfection, the
fourth and highest virtue is Justice. The four cardi
nal virtues are Temperance, Courage, Wisdom, and
Justice.
3. Plato's Theory of Political Society. The virtue,
Justice, has little meaning in individual ethics, and as
an ethical perfection can only be attained in society.
156 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
There is no English word that is quite the equivalent
for the Greek term, but Justice is the usual translation.
Justice, however, does not contain the moral spirit of
the Greek word. Consistent with his conception of the
Ideas in his metaphysics, Plato's ideal of moral perfec
tion is to be found, not in the individual, but in the
species. Plato pictures less the perfect man than the
perfect society. Perfect happiness is rather that of the
social whole than of the individual, and this ideal of
happiness can be reached only in the ideal State. That
is why the dialogue, the Republic, occupies so impor
tant a place in Plato's writings. It is an attempt to
show how the fourth and last virtue, Justice, can be
attained. The first book was written in Plato's early
period, and was perhaps called a " dialogue concerning
Justice." Justice is distinctly the social virtue found
only in a perfect society, and it will make possible the
fulfillment of Wisdom, Courage, and Temperance. The
individual man is a vital being whose heart is the cen
tral organ, whose characteristic virtue is courage. His
courage is indeed a combination of wisdom and temper
ance. The picture is of the individual man, not amen
able to society, but in " a state of warfare." In such
isolation Justice would not exist as a virtue.
The political state is necessary if the Idea of the
Good is to be manifested in human life. The state is
the true educator in Justice, and at the same time the
ideal state will be the realization of Justice. The task
of the state everywhere is the same, to wit, to direct the
common life of man so that every one may be happy
through virtue. The result may be attained only by so
ordering the relations of society that Justice may pre
vail. Plato's Republic is a carefully worked-out plan
PLATO 157
of such an ideal society. The author made several at
tempts at Syracuse with the aid of Dion to get first
the elder and then the younger Dionysius to transform
the tyranny into an ideal state. These attempts re
sulted disastrously. In the disappointment of his old
age that his ideal scheme had never succeeded, he wrote
the Laws, which is a revised version of the Republic
with the Pythagorean number theory as a basis.
The Spartan state is his model. The Platonic Re
public is aristocratic. There is paternal government in
everything, censorship of everything. Each individual's
course is marked out for him. When Greek political
life was undergoing dissolution, Plato raised the ideal
of political unity as necessary to individual happiness as
against the anarchism of segregation. Yet even in this
he was reflecting the current distrust of political institu
tions. The comparison of existing polit cal conditions
with his own political ideal reinforced his aristocratic
leanings, and made him the more distrustful of the
political possibilities of a democracy. He believed that
an intelligently worked out scheme of government was
practicable, and should be forced upon people, if neces
sary. In no other way was political salvation possible.
Since the State is the man " writ large," it has three
parts, corresponding to the three parts of the human
soul. There is (1) the working or peasant class, which
corresponds to the appetitive part of man ; the only ob
ject of such a class is to furnish food for the State, and
the highest virtue of this class is temperance. The peas
ant can only work, eat, and drink, and the highest praise
of him is that he controls his appetites. (2) The warrior
class guards the State within and without ; and its char
acteristic virtue is courage. The will must show its high-
158 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
est efficiency in guidance of the emotions. (3) Highest
of all is the cultured class of philosophers or rulers,
who determine by their insight the laws that should
rule the State. The virtue of this class is wisdom, for
is this class not the brain of the State ? The perfection
of the entire State exists when the three classes have
their proper distribution of power. Then does justice
exist. The duty of the rulers is therefore to have the
highest wisdom possible, of the warriors to be unflinch
ing in their devotion to duty, of the peasants to exercise
self-control. Thus Plato's Republic is an aristocracy
in the hands of the carefully cultured, which consists
of the two upper classes. By means of community of
wives, the exposure of deformed infants, and the State's
education of the children of the two upper classes, a
continuous selection can be made, the two upper classes
can be renewed, and all private ends can be renounced
in favor of the State. Thus the sole end of a commu
nity is moral education, and Plato arranges his ideal
community with reference to that. The two upper
classes are a great family, to whom this is intrusted.
They have dedicated their lives to the furthering of sci
ence and to its administration.
A SELECTION OF PASSAGES FROM PLATO
FOR ENGLISH READERS.
By Professor Benjamin Jowett, late Principal of Balliol College, Oxford.
The figures refer to the pages in the margin of Professor Jowett's translation of
Plato's Dialogues; the letters (A, B, C, D, E) to the subdivisions of these pages.
FIRST VOLUME.
CHABMIDBS.
Socrates prescribes for Charmides' headache.
156 D (. . . ' Such, Charmides, is the nature of the charm ' . . .)
-157 C (. . . 'my dear Charmides.')
PLATO 159
LYSIS.
We only trust those who appear to know more than ourselvef.
206 D ('Upon entering' . . .)
-210 B (' He assented.')
LACHES.
(1) The art of fighting in armour is useless to the soldier.
182 E (' I should not like to maintain ' . . .)
-184 C (. . . ' his opinion of the matter.')
(2) The harmony of "words and deeds.
188 C (' I have but one feeling ' . . .)
-189 B (. . . 'the difference of our ages.')
PROTAGORAS.
(1) The Sophists at the house of Callias.
314 B ( . . . ' And now let us go' . . .)
-316 A (. . . ' rendered his words inaudible.')
(2) Protagoras tells the story of Prometheus and Epimetheua.
320 D (' Once upon a time ' . . .)
-322 D (. . . ' a plague of the state.')
(3) The education of a Greek child.
325 D (' Education and admonition ' . . .)
-326 E (. . . ' would be far more surprising.')
EOTHYDEMOS.
The doctrinaire politician and the true philosopher.
304 B (' Such was the discussion, Crito ' . . .)
-to end ( . . . ' and be of good cheer.')
CRATYLUS.
The significations of the various letters.
426 B (' My first notions ' . . .)
-427 C (. . . ' and out of them by imitation compounding
other signs.' . . .)
PHAEDRUS.
(1) The philosopher must study the nature of man.
229 A (' Let us turn aside,' . . .)
-230 A (. . . ' a diviner and lowlier destiny ?'...)
(2) The banks of the Ilissus.
230 B ( ... 'But let me ask you, friend,' . . .)
-E (. . . 'in which you can read best.')
(3) The soul in a figure and her transmigrations.
245 C (' The soul through all her being ' . . .)
'257 A (. . . ' leave you a fool in the world below.')
160 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY ,
(4) The true orator.
269 E (' I conceive Pericles' . . .)
-272 C (. . . ' and yet the creation of such an art is not easy.'J
(5) The tale of Thamus and Theuth.
274 C (' I have heard a tradition of the ancients ' . . .)
-275 C (. . . ' that the Theban is right in his view about letters.')
(6) Speech better than writing-.
275 C (' I cannot help feeling ' . . .)
-277 A (. . . ' to the utmost extent of human happiness.')
(7) The true art of composition.
277 B (' Until a man knows the truth ' . . .)
-278 D (. . . ' poet or speech-maker or law-maker.')
ION.
The inspiration of the poet.
533 C ('I perceive, Ion,' . . .)
-536 C (. . . ' not by art, but by divine inspiration.')
SYMPOSIUM.
The Character of Socrates.
(1) His fit of abstraction in the porch.
174 A (' He said that he met Socrates' . . .)
-175 C (. . . 'Socrates entered.' . . .)
(2) His strange appearance and marvellous power of influencing
others.
215 A ('And now, my boys,' . . .)
-216 C ( . . . ' so that I am at my wit's end.')
(3) His endurance, eccentricity, and bravery.
219 E (. . . 'All this happened ' . . .)
-222 A (. . . 'a good and honourable man.')
SECOND VOLUME.
MENO.
Learning is only Recollection (&» dfa^vu) : The Immortality of the
Soul proved out of Pindar.
81 A ('I will tell you why' . . .)
-E (. . . ' active and inquisitive.' . . .)
APOLOGY, OR THE DEFENCE OF SOCRATES
The whole.
CRITO, OR SOCRATES IN PRISON.
The whole.
PHAEDO, OR THE LAST DAY OF SOCRATES' LIFE.
(1) Socrates in prison.
57-60 C (. . . ' pleasure appears to succeed.')
PLATO 161
(2) Why the philosopher is willing to die, although he will not take
his own life.
60 C (' Upon this Cebes said ' . . .)
-69 E (. . . ( it will be well.')
(3) The Description of the Other Life.
107 C (' But then, O my friends,' . . .)
-115 A (. . . ' after I am dead.')
(4) The Death of Socrates.
115 A (' When he had done speaking ' . . .)
-to end.
GORGIAS.
(1) The good man desires, not a long, but a virtuous, life.
511 A ('You always contrive' . . .)
-513 A (. . . * their own perdition.' . . .)
(2) The Judgment of the Dead.
523 A (' Listen, then,' . . .)
-527 A (. . . ' any sort of insult.')
(3) The Moral of the Tale.
527 A (' Perhaps this may appear' . . .)
-to end.
[Appendix.]
I Alcibiades.
Socrates humiliates Alcibiades by shewing him his inferiority to
the Kings of Lacedaemon and of Persia.
120 A (' Why, you surely know ' . . .)
-124 B (. . . * ever desired anything.')
II Alcibiades.
The Gods approve of simple worship.
148 C (' The Lacedaemonians, too,' . . .)
-150 B (. . . 'for me to oppose.')
Eryxias.
The nature of money.
399 E (' Then now we have to consider ' . . .)
400 E (. . . ' of no use to us ... True.')
THIRD VOLUME.
REPUBLIC.
Book i.
The commencement of the Dialogue : Cephalus on Old Age.
327-331 B (. . . * is, in my opinion, the greatest.')
162 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
Book ii.
(1) The argument of Adeimantus.
362 E (. . . ' But let me add something1 more ' . . .)
-367 E (. . . ' seen or unseen by Gods and men.')
(2) The true nature of God.
376 D (' Come, then, and let us pass ' . . .)
-383 A ( ' Your thoughts ... my own.')
Book iii.
(1) Grace and beauty in art and education.
400 D (' But there is no difficulty ' . . .)
-402 A (. . . ' made him long familiar.')
(2) The good physician and the good judge.
408 C (' All that, Socrates, is excellent,' . . .)
-409 E (' And in mine also.')
(3) The true use of music and gymnastic.
409 E (' This is the sort of medicine ' . . .)
-412 A (' You are quite right, Socrates.')
Book iv.
Virtue the health, Vice the disease, of the Soul.
443 C (' Then our dream has been realized' . . .)
-444 E(' Assuredly.')
Book v.
(1) The right treatment of enemies.
469 A (' Next, how shall our soldiers ' . . .)
-471 C (. . . 'like all our previous enactments, are very
good.')
(2) The last wave: — The Government of Philosophers.
471 C (' But still I must say, Socrates.' . . .)
-473 E (. . . « is indeed a hard thing.')
Book vi.
(1) The Parable of the Pilot.
487 A (' Here Adeimantus interposed ' . . .)
-489 D ('Precisely so, he said.')
(2) The low estimation in which Philosophy is held by the World.
493 E(' You recognize the truth of what I have been sav
ing ?'...)
-497 A (. . . « as well as of himself.')
Book vii.
The Allegory of the Cave.
514 A-520 E (. . . ' present rulers of the State.')
PLATO 163
Book viii.
Democracy and the Democratic Man.
555 B ('Next comes democracy' . . .)
-562 A (. . . ' the democratic man.')
Book ix.
j The Many-headed Monster. I
( The City of which the Pattern is laid up in Heaven. )
588 A (' Well, I said, and now ' . . .)
-to the end of the book.
Book x.
The Vision of Er.
614 B (' Well, I said, I will tell you a tale ;'...)
-to the end of the book.
TIMAEUS.
(1) The Tale of Solon.
20 E (' Then listen, Socrates' . . .)
-26 D (. . . ' these ancient Athenians.' . . .)
(2) The Balance of Mind and Body.
87 C (' There is a corresponding enquiry' . . .)
-90 D (. . . ' the present and the future.')
CRITIAS, OB THE ISLAND OF ATLANTIS.
The entire Dialogue.
FOURTH VOLUME.
PARMENIDES.
The meeting of Socrates and Parmenidea at Athens. Criticism of the
Ideas.
126 A (' We had come from our home ' . . .)
-136 C (. . . ' and see the real truth.')
THEAETETUS.
(1) Socrates, a midwife, and the son of a midwife.
148 E (' These are the pangs of labour ' . . .)
-151 E (. . . ' by the help of God you will be able to tell.')
(2) The Lawyer and the Philosopher.
172 B (. . . ' Here arises a new question' . . .)
-177 C (. . . ' Let us go back to the argument.')
SOPHIST.
The Pre-Socratic Philosophers and their puzzles.
241 D ('Will you then forgive me ' . . .)
-246 D (. . . ' but seekers after truth.')
164 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
STATESMAN.
The Reign of Cronos.
269 A (' Again, we have been often told ' . . .)
-274 E (. . . ' and at another time in another.' . . .)
PHILEBUS.
5 The first Taste of Logic, )
f The Art of Dialectic. J
15 C (' Good ; and where shall we begin ' . . .)
-17 A (. . . * and true dialectic.')
FIFTH VOLUME.
LAWS.
Book i.
(1) The true nature of Education.
643 A (' You seem to be quite ready to listen ' . . .)
-644 B (. . . 'of every man while he lives.')
(2) Man a puppet of the Gods.
644 E (' Let us look at the matter thus ' . . .)
-645 B (. . . ' more clearly distinguished by us.' . . .)
Book iii.
The Origin of Government.
676 A ('Enough of this' . . .)
-679 E (' Very true.')
Book iv.
(1) The virtuous Tyrant.
709 C (' And does not a like principle ' . . .)
-712 A (. . . ' granting our supposition.')
(2) The life of Virtue.
715 E ('And now what is to be the next step ?'...)
-718 A (. . . ' for the most part in good hope.' . . .)
Book v.
(1) ( The honour of the Soul.
( Precepts for a virtuous life.
726 A-732 D (. . . ' both in ]'est and earnest. ')
(2) The best and second-best state.
739 A ('The next move' . . .)
-741 A (. . . 'to fight against necessity.')
(3) Riches and Godliness.
742 D (. . . * The intention, as we affirm ' . . .)
-744 A (. . . ' the work of legislation.')
PLATO 166
Book vii.
(1) The good citizen must not lead an inactive life.
806 D (' What will be the manner of lif e ' . . .)
-808 C (. . . ' to the whole state.')
(2) The education of the young.
808 D (. . . ' When the day breaks ' . . .)
/ -809 A (. . . ' according to the law.') }
)S10 A (. . . 'A fair time' . . .)
I -812 A (. . . ' come to an end.') )
Book viii.
The evils of licentiousness.
835 C (. . . ' There is, however, another matter ' . . .)
-841 E (. . . ' wrongly indulged.'),
Book x.
(1) ( The three classes of unbelievers. I
I Advice to the young. )
885 B (. . . ' For we have already said ' . . .)
-888 D (. . . ' the truth of these matters.')
(2) God is not an idle ruler of the Universe ; but orders all, even tha
smallest things, for our good.
899 D (. . . * And now we are to address him ' . . .)
-905 D (. . . 'any understanding whatsoever' . . .)
(3) God cannot be propitiated by the gifts of the wicked.
905 D (. . . ' For I think that we have sufficiently proved ' . . .)
-907 D (. . . 'will not discredit the lawgiver.')
Book xi.
(1) The evils of retail trade, and the cure of them.
918 A (' After the practices of adulteration ' . . .)
-919 C (. . . ' shamelessness and meanness.')
(2) The honour of parents.
930 E (' Neither God, nor a man * . . .)
-932 A (. . . 'to what has now been said.' . . .)
Book xii.
(1) The good state in its intercourse with the world.
949 E (' Now a state ' . . .)
-951 C (. . . ' is ill-conducted.')
(2) The Burial of the Dead.
958 C (' Thus a man is born ' . . .)
960 A (. . . 'a fitting penalty.' . . .)
CHAPTER VIII
ARISTOTLE (384-322 B. C.)
Aristotle in the Academy and Lyceum. Many nota
ble pupils gathered around Plato during his mastership
of more than forty years. Plato's nephew, Speusippus,
succeeded him as leader of the Academy, and for the
next three hundred and fifty years the Academy is
called by various names. It is the Older Academy
under Speusippus and later ; then it is known as the
Middle Academy; and then, about 120 B. C., it is
known as the New Academy. The history of the Acad
emy is, however, a part of the Hellenic-Roman Period.
It is sufficient to say here that the leaders succeed
ing Plato in the Academy added but little to philosoph
ical speculation, although much to empirical research.
The important fact is that the sceptre in philosophy
passed from the Academy when Plato died and his
greatest pupil Aristotle left it. Just as Plato stood
among the pupils of Socrates as Socrates' most dis
criminating interpreter, so among the pupils of Plato
there was one preeminent pupil, — Aristotle. Aris
totle was too great a man to be subordinated to the
leadership of Speusippus. Upon the death of Plato he
left the Academy, and fourteen years later he returned
to Athens and founded the Lyceum, which became
under his mastership the most influential Athenian
school. The Lyceum was an inclosed space of ground,
like the Academy. It was situated just outside the
walls of Athens, on the right bank of the Ilissus. It
ARISTOTLE 167
was dedicated to Apollo, decorated with fountains,
gardens, and buildings, and contained one of the great
gymnasia of Athens. It was frequented by philosophers,
and is known to have been the favorite walk of Aris
totle and his pupils, whence they got their name of
Peripatetics. Theophrastus, the most eminent pupil of
Aristotle, bought a property near the grove and be
queathed it to the school. It was a religious foundation,
like the Academy. The method of choosing the schol-
archs varied at different times. The name Lyceum is
from the same root as Lycian, and was given to Aris
totle's school from the fact that the grove was dedi
cated to the Lycian Apollo.
Here, in the Lyceum, Greek philosophy was brought
to its most complete expression. Here all the threads
of Greek cosmological and anthropological undertak
ings were finally woven together. Here an adjustment
was accomplished between Aristotle's two great prede
cessors, Plato and Democritus ; and materialistic and
idealistic realism crystallized in a theory of develop
ment. The great form of Aristotle rises to speak the
final word of pure Greek civilization, at a time when
the custody of Greece had passed from the hands of
the Athenians, the Spartans, the Thebans in succession
to the Macedonians. He was the most influential thinker
that history had seen. In his formative power upon hu
man thought he has scarcely a peer. Dante called him
" the master of those who know." " In my opinion," said
Cicero, "Aristotle stands almost alone in philosophy."
Eusebius said of him, " Aristotle, nature's private sec
retary, dipped his pen in thought." Goethe remarked,
" If now in my quiet days I had youthful faculties at
my command, I should devote myself to Greek, in spite
168 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
of all the difficulties I know. Nature and Aristotle
should be my sole study. It is beyond all conception
what that man espied, saw, beheld, remarked, ob
served."
The portrait that we draw of Aristotle is very dif
ferent from that of Plato. Instead of the deeply poetic
temper, the man who sees all things in an ideal unity
of infiniteness and vastness, we have before us now
the scientist in search of facts, the accurate man of
good sense, whose imagination does not soar above
the clouds, but at the same time has extraordinary fer
tility in historical and scientific theoretical explana
tions. His was a life filled with the love of truth. His
learning took up into itself the entire range of human
knowledge in such a way as to include its earlier de
velopment. And what is more, he showed an equal
interest in all departments. Aristotle was more of a
scientist than Plato, for the theoretical rather than the
ethical interest was fundamental in his work. He is
the personification and completion of pure Greek
learning.
Biography of Aristotle, 384-322 B. c.
Brief Chronological Sketch of Aristotle's Life.
First Period — Aristotle the Student — 37 years.
384-347 B. c.
384 Born in Stagira in Macedonia.
367 Entered the Academy. Kemained 19 years.
347 Left the Academy upon the death of Plato.
Second Period — Aristotle the Traveler — 12
years. 347-335 B. c.
347 Went to the courts at Atarneus and Mytilene in
Asia Minor.
ARISTOTLE 169
343 Returned to the court of Macedon at Pella, in
response to the summons of King Philip, to
teach the young prince Alexander. Remained
4 years.
340 Went from Pella to Stagira to engage in scientific
work. Remained 5 years.
Third Period — Aristotle the Leader of the Ly
ceum — 13 years. 335-322 B. c.
335 Founded the Lyceum in Athens. Taught and
administered the school 12 years.
323 Fled to Chalcis.
322 Died in Chalcis.
Aristotle's Biography in Detail.
i. First Period, 384-347 B.C. — Early Influences.
Aristotle was born in Stagira in Macedonia. His father
was court physician to King Amyntas, the founder
of the Macedonian power and the father of King
Philip. He came from a long line of physicians (the
caste, Asclepiad) who traced their origin to Ascle-
pius. Little is known about the early years of
Aristotle except that his father and mother died, leav
ing him in the guardianship of Proxenus of Atarneus.
(Atarneus is the state in Asia Minor which he later
visited.) It can scarcely be doubted that he was des
tined by his family to be a physician, and that the
empirical works of Hippocrates and Democritus were
the first elements of his early education. Aristotle
grew up in this atmosphere of medicine of Macedonia,
which explains his respect for the results of experience
and his accuracy in details, — all of which contrasts him
with the Attic philosophers.
He was sent by Proxenus to the Academy in 367 Be C..
170 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
at the age of eighteen, and he remained there for nine
teen years, or until he was thirty-seven. He was not
merely a pupil in the school, but his brilliancy won for
him immediately a prominent position there. He be
came a teacher, an attractive writer, and champion of
the literary spirit of the school. Even while he was a
member of the Academy he became a famous man. It
is difficult to say just how much influence the Academy
had upon the casting of his thought. His scientific
inclinations were formed before he went to the Acad
emy ; he got his immense scientific erudition in Asia
Minor and in Stagira later, after he left the Academy.
Probably the spirit of the Platonic school turned his
attention to ethical and metaphysical theories, and prob
ably it was due to his stay in the Academy that he be
came interested in rhetorical and purely cultural studies.
At the same time his own influence must have been
very great in forming the policy of the Academy, and
he was probably responsible for its turning its attention
to scientific matters.
The sources from which Aristotle drew the material
of his philosophical science were therefore (1) his in
herited taste for medicine and empirical science ; and
(2) the influence of the Academy in ethical, meta
physical, and cultural subjects. Both these factors ap
pear throughout the philosophical development of Aris
totle. On the other hand, it must not be forgotten that
probably Aristotle's influence upon the Academy was
as great as that of the Academy upon him. His own
persistence along the line of empirical science shows
itself in his period at Atarneus, Mitylene, and on his
return to Stagira. Much has been said about an
Estrangement between Aristotle and his teacher, Plato.
ARISTOTLE 171
This is probably idle gossip. Aristotle held his master
in great esteem, as he himself testifies in his Ethics.
Aristotle was an independent and original mind, and
probably even in the school he would point out defects
in Plato's thought, when his aged teacher would lead
his theories upon mistaken lines. Plato said that his
pupil Xenocrates needed the spur, while Aristotle
needed the bridle. Aristotle was called the brain of
the Academy.
2. Second Period, 347-335 B. c. — Traveler and Col
lector. When Plato died, and his nephew Speusippus
became scholarch of the Academy, Aristotle, in com
pany with Xenocrates, went to the court of Hermeias,
ruler of Atarneus and Mitylene. Hermeias was another
pupil of Plato at the Academy. Here Aristotle married
twice, and here he resided for six years. In 343 B. c.
he obeyed the summons of King Philip to come to
Pella and become the tutor of Alexander. He acted in
this capacity for four years, and seems to have been
more fortunate than Plato as instructor of a king. His
influence upon Alexander was very great. Without
losing himself in the impracticable, Aristotle seems to
have impressed high philosophical ideals upon the noble
spirit of his kingly ward. Alexander says of Aristotle,
" To my father I owe my life, to Aristotle the know-
ledge how to live worthily." During the tedium of the
protracted campaign in Bactria, Alexander sent for the
tragedies of Euripides, Sophocles, and ^Eschylus. The
Ethics of his teacher was always with him. The ideals
of statesmanship, the wide purposes in political con
trol, the greatness of the aims of the young conqueror,
as well as his self-control, his aversion to meanness
and petty things, and his sublime moderation were due
172 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
in part to the teachings of Aristotle. Never was there a
more fortunate conjunction of two great minds than here.
In 340 B. c., when Alexander entered upon his admin
istrative and military duties, Aristotle became independ
ent of the Macedonian court. He spent the most of these
four years (340-335 B. c.) in scientific work at Stagira,
in intimate companionship with his young friend Theo-
phrastus, who later succeeded him as scholarch of the
Lyceum. " Among the special subjects of study in the
school of Mieza and Stagira, natural history formed a
part. . . . Alexander at one time contributed eight
hundred talents to forward his former teacher's inves
tigations in zoology, placed at his disposal a thousand
men throughout Asia and Greece, with instructions to
follow out Aristotle's directions in collecting and re
porting details concerning the life, conditions, and
habits of animals, and in every way made his cam
paigns serve the purpose of scientific investigation." 1
The reports of the ancients concerning the vast sums
placed at Aristotle's disposal for use in scientific inves
tigation are of course exaggerated. That he made large
collections during this period, as well as later, is cer
tain. This was possible to him, first, because he was a
rich man himself, and second, because of his relations
to the courts at Atarneus and Macedonia.
3. Third Period, 335-322 B. c.— Administrator of
the Lyceum. When Alexander entered upon his
campaigns in Asia, and Aristotle felt himself free from
immediate duty to him, he went to Athens and founded
the Lyceum. This school very soon arose above the
Academy, and became the model of later societies of
scholars of antiquity. Its greatness partook of the great-
B. I. Wheeler, Life of Alexander the Great.
ARISTOTLE 173
ness of Aristotle, — in the universality of its interests,
in the orderliness of its administration, and in method
ical cooperation. For twelve years he was the execu
tive, teacher, administrator, and inspiration of this
school — developing his philosophy, accumulating ma
terials, and instructing his pupils. The enormous pro
duct of the school could not have been the work of one
pair of hands. Nevertheless the writings, the immense
collections, the ethical and political treatises, show a
unity that speaks of one master-mind that had them
under direction. When the Athenians began to rise
against the Macedonian rule, Aristotle's position in
Athens as a friend of Alexander became unsafe. He
fled to Chalcis, excusing himself, so the tradition goes,
because he wished to spare the Athenians a second
crime against philosophy. He died in Chalcis the next
year (322 B. c.).
A comparison of these three periods of Aristotle's
life discloses the uniformity of that life, from beginning
to end. He was, from the time he entered the Academy
to the founding of the Lyceum, a teacher. Even as
pupil of Plato his original mind was influencing the
Platonic teaching into new channels. During his second
period he was a traveler, to be sure ; but he was more,
— a collector and a king's tutor. He was always Aris
totle, the philosophical teacher. Hence the periods of
his life cannot be so sharply marked as Plato's, and
the lines that are drawn point only to phases of a life
that had unity, like his doctrine. His life is a regular
development from sources in his first period, and with
no later deviating influence.
The Writings of Aristotle. On every page of Plato's
dialogues you meet Plato ; in Aristotle's writings the
174 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
personality of the author is subordinated to his science.
The collections of writings transmitted under the name
of Aristotle do not give even an approximately com
plete picture of the immense activity of the man. They
form, indeed, a stately memorial, even after the spuri
ous writings have been omitted, but their bulk is small
compared with what we know was the product of his
literary workshop. Forty treatises have been preserved.
A catalogue of the library of Alexandria in 220 B. c.
includes a list of one hundred and forty-six others,
which have since been lost. Aristotle was writer, lec
turer, teacher, and the administrator of the Lyceum. His
leadership of that school, his careful direction of his
cooperators in research and study, was not only an in
struction but an impulsion to independent scientific
study for all time. His great collections of scientific
data can be explained only by their being the combined
efforts of many different forces, guided and schooled
by a common master. The world was ready to take an
account of stock, and Aristotle was the first encyclo
pedic philosopher.
i. The Popular Writings, published by Aristotle
himself. These were intended for a circle of readers
wider than his own school. No one of these works is
extant in complete form. They were written by Aris
totle during his life in the Academy. They were dia
logues in form ; in content they were discussions of
justice, wealth, wisdom, rhetoric, politics, love, conduct,
prayer, generosity, education, government, etc. They
were less artistic than Plato's dialogues, but more ori
ginal and striking ; and they were full of happy inven
tions and rich thought, expressed in florid diction. The
ancients spoke often of Aristotle's "golden flow of
ARISTOTLE 175
thought," but this cannot truthfully apply to any save
these lost writings.
2. The Compilations. These were excerpts from scien
tific works, collections of zoological, literary, historical,
and antiquarian data, which Aristotle and his pupils
had gathered together. Only a few fragments of the
total remain. There were critical notes upon the Pytha
goreans, reports of extracts of Plato's dialogues, a
descriptive basis for zoology with illustrations, collec
tions of previous rhetorical theories and models, histo
ries of tragedies and comedies, discussions about Homer,
Hesiod, Archilochus, Euripides, and other poets ;
there were historical miscellanies and reports concern
ing one hundred fifty-eight Greek state constitutions.
3. The Didactic Writings. These have in part been
preserved, and they make up the collection of what we
have of Aristotle's writings. They have a consistently
developed terminology, but they are wanting in grace
and beauty of presentation. The plan of the books is
generally the same : the problem is precisely stated ;
then follows a criticism of various attempted solutions ;
then a discussion of the salient points of the problem ;
then a marshaling of the facts ; and, finally, an attempt
to get a conclusive result. The method is modern in
its scientific procedure and the contrast with Plato is
striking. Yet it must not be inferred that these books
of Aristotle are orderly. There are repetitions, haste,
unequal development of parts, and unfulfilled promises.
These books were nothing else than the written note?
which he had made the basis of his lectures and had
intended to form into text-books in some future time.
Only parts of the Logic seem to have been completed
for text-book purposes.
176 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
These didactic writings are simply arranged as fol
lows (Wallace) :
1. The treatise on Logic called Or g anon.
2. Speculative Philosophy.
First Philosophy or Theology or Metaphysics.
Mathematics (writings not extant).
Physics (including the history of animals and the
psychology).
3. Practical Philosophy.
Ethics.
Economics.
Politics.
4. Poetic Philosophy.
Art.
Poetry.
Rhetoric.
Aristotle's Starting-Point. The two early influences
in Aristotle's mental development offer an explanation
for his philosophical point of view. These influences
were his empirical training in medicine and his con
ceptual training in the moral ideals of the Academy.
Plato had convinced him that if there were to be any
true science, it must be founded on concepts that are
unchanging. His own scientific training, however, re
inforced by the influence of Democritus, made him re
spect the value of empirical facts. While the philo
sophical problem for Aristotle was the same as that for
Plato, the difference between them was in the main a
matter of emphasis due to their different starting-
points. Plato started with the refutation of the Prota-
gorean theory of perception, and consequently he em
phasized the value of the conceptual world ; Aristotle,
however, felt that Plato had overestimated the con-
ARISTOTLE 177
ceptual world, and he emphasized the importance of
empirical facts. Both when a member of the Academy
and later, he strongly contended against Plato's evalu
ation of the world of Ideas, because they so transcended
the sense world that they neither explained nor illumi
nated it. Aristotle's reaction against Plato's theory
furthermore gives us a more correct notion of what
Plato really taught. If conceptions are to enter into
knowledge, they must not exist in the clouds of ab
straction. He maintained that Plato had increased the
difficulty of the problem by adding a second world of
entities quite distinct from the world of nature. The
same problem that Plato confronted still exists unan
swered, said Aristotle. It is the problem of the two
fold world. If Ideas are apart from things, we could not
know that they existed, we should not be able to know
anything about them, nor should we be able to explain
the world through them. It is true that Plato, in his
later draft, had conceived Ideas to be teleologically re
lated to the physical things, but how could this be if
they were apart from things ? Thus in his reaction from
Plato's theory of Ideas, Aristotle reestablished the
world of perceptual fact. This is the starting-point of
Aristotle.
The Fundamental Principle in Aristotle's Philosophy.
The first question then is, How did Aristotle reestab
lish the perceptual fact ? What means did he employ
to give the perceptual fact a reality? The answer to
this question will be the statement of Aristotle's funda
mental principle. It will show his advance over Plato
by showing his new estimate of the perceptual world.
Plato accepted the Protagorean doctrine of perception,
but also gave it a new value by placing perceptions
178 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
beside conceptions in the world of reality ; Aristotle
developed Plato's teaching about perceptions by link-
ing them inseparably with conceptions. Aristotle felt
that Plato's difficulties arose from the lack of close re-
lationship between conceptual Being and perceptuaf
fact. What is that linkage ? What binds abiding real-
ity and changing phenomena so closely ? The linkage
is development. Development is the relation between
conception and perception. It is the fundamental prin
ciple in the philosophy of Aristotle throughout and
places a new estimate upon the value of perception.
Perceptual facts apart from conceptions have no real
ity; conceptions apart from perceptions are mere ab
stractions. In the world of reality conceptual Being re
sides in the perceptual facts, and the perceptual facts
express conceptions. They always exist together in a
linkage or relationship that is teleological, purposeful
— the linkage of development. An abstract statement
of this relationship is, " Aristotle felt the conceptual ne
cessity of the empirically actual." Perhaps the clearest
statement of this fundamental principle can be made
in the terms of evolution. It is this : true reality is the
essence which unfolds in phenomena. Notice that this
sentence has two parts equally freighted : reality is an
unfolding essence ; reality is in phenomena. The true
universal must be thought as realizing itself through
its development in particulars ; the true concept as
realizing itself through its development in percepts;
the true abiding Being as realizing itself in its devel
opment through change. On the one hand, reality is
the essence of things ; on the other, reality has exist
ence only in things.
True reality is the individual.
ARISTOTLE 179
The individual consists of two aspects : (1) concept
ual being, and (2) perceptual change.
These two aspects always stand in a relationship.
That relationship is developing purpose.
Here is the key to the teaching of Aristotle that
seems to open the doors of its many chambers. In his
metaphysics reality is the individual developing from
possibility to actuality. In physics individual phenom
ena get a reality through their development from lower
to higher types. In psychology the individual person is
real when the particulars, the physiological and psycho
logical states, develop toward the soul, which is their
truth. So, too, in the great system of logic in which
Aristotle was pioneer, he is simply trying to give the
particular judgment a meaning by showing its linkage
to the universal judgment. Everywhere the starting-
point of Aristotle is the perceptual fact. Everywhere
his purpose is to reestablish it by showing its relation
to abiding conception in the individual.
It may be well to remark, however, that Aristotle
does not altogether succeed in constructing a consist
ent theory. In spite of his criticism of Plato's tran
scendent Ideas, in many places Aristotle does not over
come Plato's dualism. Frequently he differs from Plato
more in words than in meaning. We shall observe some
of his inconsistencies in their place. We shall see that
Aristotle as he meant to be was different from Aris
totle as he was. Aristotle as he meant to be — Aristotle
as the opponent of Plato's dualism — develops a philo
sophy from a single fundamental principle. Aristotle
as he was, reverts at many critical points to Plato's
dualism.
Aristotle's principle of development may appear at
180 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
first blush very much like the modern principle of evo
lution. As a matter of fact it was very different. In all
Greek philosophy after Socrates the study of morals
was fundamental. The ideal of Socrates, Democritus,
Plato, Aristotle, and the later Schools was a moral
ideal. Being moral it was fixed, and it fixed all the
changes of life to it as a centre. Nature was to the
Greek a museum of types oscillating around a perfect
form. There was no evolution in the sense of progress.
There was development within the individual — the
boy becomes a man, the seed becomes a flower ; but
there was no evolution from genus to genus. Indeed, any
variation of the individual from its type was considered
a defect.
Aristotle's Logic. Aristotle felt that there must be
a science of the methods of science ; and so successful
was he in its formulation that it has practically re
mained as he transmitted it. We are struck by the
way in which he divided science into the special
sciences, each with its well-defined field. It was per
fectly natural that he should also, with his great power
of abstract reasoning, discuss the body of rules for
legitimate thinking. In science there must be an art of
investigation, just as in rhetoric there is an art of per
suasion. At an early period these logical writings were
collected under the name Organon, because the Lyceum
regarded them so intimately connected with scientific
procedure as to be the instrument or " organ " of all
knowledge. Certain parts of Aristotle's Organon are
of doubtful genuineness. The important sections are
the Analytics, a masterly logical groundwork of the
conclusion and proof, and the Topics, which treats of
the inductive methods of probability. Aristotle there-
ARISTOTLE 181
fore made logic a preliminary and separate study, as
it should be. It became the preface to his scientific
work.
We shall briefly discuss Aristotle's logic, because it
is an exemplification of his general philosophical prin
ciple. Among the subjects in the history of philosophy,
logic is perhaps the only one that has had no internal
history. Aristotle was the pioneer in the subject. He
left it so finished that scarcely any changes of conse
quence could be made in it. The external history of the
Aristotelian logic has, however, been notable. A por
tion of the Categories and De Interpretation was
most influential in the history of the Middle Ages.
The Logic had been misunderstood and misapplied by
Aristotle's own School, so that when it came into the
hands of the Schoolmen it had acquired the reputation
of being only an abstract formal logic. As thus inter
preted it was used by the Schoolmen and attacked by
the philosophers of the Renaissance. Such a view of
Aristotle's logic is unjust to the author. He had con--
ceived logic in its wholeness to be the true method to
be used in investigating practical scientific problems.
The Sophists had proposed rules of practical value
in the study of individual cases ; Socrates had tried to
fix upon some universal principle as the basis of know
ledge ; Aristotle made a comprehensive study of the reg
ular forms of thought and the rules that govern the ar
rangement of these forms in right thinking. In true
Platonic fashion he conceived physical events in nature
to be due to some universal cause. If, therefore, logical
procedure be scientific, ft must follow the ways of na
ture : logic must deduce particular perceptions from some
universal idea. The necessary thought-relations in which
182 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
the particular stands will then appear. Deduction of
the particular from the universal is the true scientific
method, used in the explanation of nature-phenomena :
so in proof the same deductive reasoning should be used
In scientific study we are trying to show the conceptual
necessity of an empirical fact ; in proof we are showing
the conceptual necessity of the particular term. Whether
we are explaining an event or proving a conclusion, we
are employing the same logical process. Aristotle thus
regarded his logic as the true scientific method for prac
tical service, not as a merely abstract discipline in verbal
hair-splitting.
Socrates and Plato confined themselves to the study of
the concept or simple term. Aristotle also studied the
concept. Indeed, he tried to find out what concepts are
fundamental in our thinking, so fundamental that they
are our thought reduced to its lowest terms. He names
ten of these fundamental concepts and calls them cate
gories. But Aristotle goes farther than Socrates and
Plato, and makes his real point of departure the judg
ment. A single term does not express truth. For truth
we must have two terms connected by the verb " is,'*
i. e. some relation must be shown between them. This
is a judgment. Reasoning is still more complex. It is
the putting together or showing the relation between
two judgments. This process takes the form of the syl
logism. The first task of deduction is to present the laws
of the syllogism. These will then be the laws of scien
tific investigation. According to these, particulars can
be derived with certainty from universal propositions,
provided such universals are established. The syllogism
is in the form of two premises and a derived conclusion.
It contains three terms. The problem is to infer, from
ARISTOTLE 183
the relation that one of these terms bears to the two
other terms, what the two bear to each other. The prin
ciple employed is that of subordination ; and the dif
ferentiations of the syllogism can be many, depending on
the quality and quantity of the premises and the distri
bution of the middle term. The working of the syllogism
in inference has a certainty so great that Aristotle called
it- apodictic.
But there is another side to the syllogistic besides
the deduction of proof or the explanation of empirical
fact. This is the establishment of the premises. All de
duction presupposes absolute premises. All deduction
is grounded on something not deduced ; all proof on
something not proved ; all explanation on something
that has not been explained. These presuppositions are
universal propositions that can be known only imme
diately through intuitions. Aristotle is not altogether
clear as to what these intuitions are. He names such
axioms as the law of contradiction and the law of the
excluded middle, and some special propositions which
apply only to particular sciences. Since the premises
which we actually use are not open to proof, but only
strengthened as to the validity of their application, we
must use the method of induction in our search for
them. We accumulate data from opinions and varied
experiences, and then we ascend to a generalization
which we take as a premise. The results of induction
cannot therefore be in themselves certain. The results
are only probable, and can have the character of know
ledge only as they explain phenomena. Aristotle means
by induction something different from the present use
of the term. Induction in modern times means a kind
of proof ,• Aristotle means a method of discovery of
184 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
relatively universal terms where the absolutely universal
cannot be obtained.
There is an ideal involved in this conception of logk
that is interesting. In a perfectly intellectual society
there would be a perfect science in which all particular
facts could be derived with absolute certainty from pre
mises absolutely known. Life and logic would be iden
tical. We should then be certain not only as to our
proof but as to our premises. Logic has sometimes been
used very effectively in this way. When the mediaeval
church conceived its dogmas to be the ultimate pre
mises of truth, it could deduce from them complete
rules for living. To the mediaeval mind the perfect
science was formulated by deducing it from the dogma
of the church. The dogmas were the absolute premises.
The Renaissance did not doubt the infallibility of the
traditional dogmas so much as the logical method, and
Aristotle, who had been so long artificially identified
with the proof of ecclesiastical dogma, was set aside.
Aristotle, moreover, showed great insight into the
present relation of thought and reality. The sequence
of facts in our experience, he pointed out, is exactly
the reverse of what it is in reality. What is first in
reality comes last in our experience, and what is first
in our experience is last in reality. To illustrate : the
mission of the Athenian State in the eternity of things
did not appear until every event in its history had oc
curred. A perfect being would see the universal ground
before the historical particulars derived from it, while
we look from the particulars to their universal causes.
Logic and metaphysics agree; but they stand in in
verted parallelism to historical and psychological pro
cesses. Knowledge is a development from the senses
ARISTOTLE 185
into the Ideas, and yet, on the other hand, Aristotle
never fails to remind us that this development is the
expression of an idea which has been present from the
beginning.
Aristotle's Metaphysics.
i. Development is Purposeful. The conception of
relation is, of course, quite as fundamental in Aris
totle's theory of metaphysics as in his logic. In logic
knowledge of the particular is possible through its
relationship to the universal ; in metaphysics the rela
tionship is the relationship of development — the par
ticular has significance and value through the universal
essence that unfolds from within it. If Aristotle shows
genius for abstract thinking by becoming the " Father
of Logic," he shows equal genius for abstract thinking
in his metaphysical conception of development. He be
lieved that metaphysics applies the same conditions to
things that logic discovers in thought. But in meta
physics the relationship is not the abstract relationship
that Aristotle saw in Plato, but the vital relation of
development in the life and change of nature.
We have already stated the fundamental principle in
Aristotle's teaching as an unfolding essence in phenom
ena. The unfolding is the relationship of development.
Eeality does not consist in the particular things of
nature, nor in something outside nature, but in this
essential linkage of the perceptual and conceptual in
nature. As the world is spread out before us, it pre
sents objects that are dynamic, however much they may
appear to be static. Everywhere matter is in the process
of forming. The world is a forming, not a formed nor
a formless world. So, also, if you undertook to describe
any individual object in the world, you would have to
186 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
define it as a forming or developing thing. A tree, for
example, would not be adequately denned or described
by enumerating its parts at any one moment ; but you
must describe it as a unitary organism developing from
a seed. The reality of the world is the development of
its meaning in its history ; the same is true of the reality
of any individual thing in the world. The world and
the things therein have an unfolding essence.
The next point to be observed about Aristotle's con
ception is that the relationship of development is be-
tiveen two terms. The individual must have two aspects :
there must be that out of which the development is pass
ing, and that into which it is passing. Aristotle calls
these two aspects of development respectively Matter
and Form. Every object of nature consists of Form and
Matter, and these two terms have passed into history.
To Aristotle everything is Matter becoming Form, or,
in other words, Form realizing itself in Matter. The
tree has its Matter which is becoming Formed, and its
Form into which the Matter is growing. The principle
which unites the two is development, — the principle of
the individual. Matter, then, is the possibility or poten
tiality of an individual thing — it is the thing given
potentially ; Form is its actuality or reality. If you
emphasize merely the stages in the development, you are
regarding merely the occurrences ; if, however, you em
phasize the stages of development as aspects of a unity,
you see its essence.
The relationship of development between two terms
thus becomes under Aristotle's hands the relation of
purpose. Aristotle calls this self-realization of the es
sence in phenomena by the technical word entelechy,
i.e. in opposition to the earlier conceptions of nature
ARISTOTLE 187
Aristotle conceived nature teleologically. Teleology or
purpose we found Plato using in his second draft of the
Ideas, but more as a postulate than as an efficient means
of explanation. Aristotle uses teleology as his positive
fundamental principle of nature.
2. Aristotle's Two Different Conceptions of Pur
pose. Aristotle illustrated his conception of the pur
poseful relation in nature from two very different types :
(1) the development of organisms ; (2) the develop
ment that takes place when an artisan moulds plastic
material. Manifestly here are two different kinds of
teleological activities. In organic growth the Form that
realizes itself in Matter is immanent in the organism ;
the artist, on the other hand, superimposes the Form
upon the plastic material. In the case of organisms
Matter and Form are separable only by abstraction, and
are only two aspects of a development which is identical
from the beginning to the end ; in the case of artistic
construction the Matter is first a possibility existing by
itself, and the purpose of the artist is later added unto
it. In the case of organisms Aristotle speaks of two
causes, — the material and the formal ; in the case of
artistic construction he employs four causes, — the mate
rial, the efficient, the formal, and the final. Aristotle did
not expressly formulate these two different conceptions
of purpose, but he completely applied them in practice.
On the one hand he regarded individual things as self-
realizing, and on the other he looked upon them as
realized in other things. This seemingly harmless dif
ference is really very fundamental, for it is the differ
ence between Aristotle as he meant to be — Aristotle
as the critic of Plato's dualism — and Aristotle who
reverts to Plato's teaching. We find therefore two Aris-
188 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
totles; one a dynamic monist, the other a transcendent
dualist. We cannot say that Aristotle as he meant to
be is the true Aristotle, for he is a dualist in very many
important doctrines.
Aristotle's conception of purpose as exemplified by
organisms is his original conception, and is what he in
tended to be the basis of his philosophy. Here the truly
real is the individual determined by its own Form. It
is the dynamic and not the artistic view of life. Activ
ity is directed to an end not without but within itself.
The individual is a complete organic unity at rest within
itself. The individual is primarily the essence or sub
stance. Of the ten categories which he enumerates,
substance from this point of view is to Aristotle the
most important. The nine other categories only describe
the states or relations of the substance. The essence of
the individual is the substance ; and Aristotle conceives
the substance as the species or universal in the thing.
It is pointed out that even here Aristotle is guilty of a
dualism in the double meaning in which he uses sub
stance. But the conception of Aristotle here is of an
immanent, dynamic reality. He has in mind the self-
contained unity of the individual, whether that be a
tree, a man, or the universe.
Aristotle's conception of purpose as exemplified by
artistic products preponderates over his original con
ception of purpose. When he regards the individual
objects in the world, not as self-contained but as rela
tive to one another, he has a different conception of the
world. In this case the individuals are not realities but
have reference to a reality transcending them. The
world is still a developing world, but the essence that
unfolds itself is not in phenomena. It is a goal for which
ARISTOTLE 189
phenomena strive. The fulfillment of the purpose, is
beyond. Individual things are only a scale of values
relative to some transcendent standard. To illustrate :
the bud, the blossom, the fruit, have not their realiza
tion in themselves, but as food ; again, the growing tree,
the timber lying on the ground, the timber in the house,
have their realization in the completed house ; again, in
the world at large, the original nebulous matter of the
universe, the first-formed worlds, the early years of
this earth, the succeeding centuries, the 20th century of
this world, are only a scale of values for something in
the future.
In facing such facts, Aristotle had to depart from
his original conceptualistic standard of the world as
an organic unity and of individual things having their
meaning in themselves. View a thing by itself, and it
seems to be a self-contained reality which unfolds for
itself alone. View a thing with reference to other things,
and its reality is in something else. Here is Aristotle
no longer as he meant to be, but as he really was. He
is now Plato's pupil. Each thing now is to be regarded,
not as containing in itself the two aspects of Form and
Matter, but as the possibility of something and the ac
tuality of something else. The blossom is the possibility
or Matter of the fruit and the Form or actuality of
the bud. The nineteenth century is the Form of the
eighteenth and the Matter of the twentieth. But devel
opment has a limit above and below, according to Aris
totle : below, in Matter that is without Form ; above, in
Form that is without Matter. Pure Form is God, who
excludes from Himself all Matter or possibility, because
He is perfect. Pure Matter is the lower limit, which is
entire possibility, and exists only to be formed. Here
190 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
is a dualism as distinct as Plato's, which Aristotle not
only did not overcome but which he developed. In the
same way that Plato contrasted Ideas and empty space,
Aristotle contrasted God as pure Form and Matter as
pure possibility.
In this final dualistic form in which Aristotle left
his teaching, there are three specific doctrines which the
student must consider carefully. They are important
because they had great influence in later orthodox the
ology and in theories of nature. These special doctrines
are (1) Aristotle's conception of God; (2) his concep
tion of matter ; (3) his conception of nature.
3. Aristotle's Conception of God. In the Aristotel
ian system the assumption of an upper final term of
pure Form was necessary, because Matter as the pos
sible and potential is not endowed with the power of
motion and generation. To Aristotle development is not
a process with temporal beginning and ending, but is a
kind of closed circuit. Since reality is in itself a devel
oping essence, motion is as eternal as reality. We should
not ask, therefore, When did the world begin, and when
will it end? but we can legitimately ask, What is the.
nature of reality that keeps motion alive? When we
examine individual things, we find, according to Aris
totle's explanation, that motion is the result of the in
fluence of Form upon Matter. There is inherent in
matter an impulse to be formed, and there is inherent
in Form an active forming purpose. But we may search
individual things in vain for the causal explanation of
motion, since every Form is in turn the Matter for a
higher Form. The chain would be endless and not intelli
gible if there did not exist a pure Form, which is un
moved. God as the unmoved mover is the cause of the
ARISTOTLE 191
world-motion, but God must be the cause in a different
sense from the physical causes, which are themselves
moved. God operates as a cause upon Matter, not as a
mechanical cause but as pure Form, — as a final or teleo-
logical cause. God is the cause in the sense that God
excites in Matter the impulse to be actual, like God.
This prime mover is similar to Plato's Idea of the
Good. As to its form it is eternal, unmovable, unchange
able, wholly independent and incorporeal, and yet the
cause of all generation and change. God is the perfect
Being in whom all possibility is actuality. As to its con
tent God is pure thought. But in respect to his thought
God is not like human thought, which is concerned with
external phenomena and changing things. God is thought
that has nothing else for its object than itself and its
own unchanging content. God is " thought of thought."
God's contemplation of himself is his own blessed life.
Here in Aristotle is a momentous conception formed for
the first time in the history of thought. Monotheism is
for the first time conceptually framed and scientifically
grounded. The monism of Aristotle's predecessors passes
over into a theism. God is not only immaterial in the
sense that Plato defined the Ideas, but he is spiritual.
In Aristotle's transcendent God, conceived as pure self-
consciousness, we have the ripest fruit of Greek philo
sophy.
4. Aristotle's Conception of Matter. The other and
lower limit of Aristotle's dualism is Matter, " first Mat
ter," as Aristotle called it. In itself it is wholly unformed
and mere possibility. But it is unlike pure Form in this
respect, — it never exists in itself. God exists apart
from Matter, but since Matter is mere possibility, Mat
ter never exists apart from Form. Matter has a double
192 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
character. On the one hand Matter is that which as
an accessory cause makes the world of phenomena pos
sible; on the other hand it is the source of the lawless
and purposeless in nature. Through its seeking to be
formed it makes the presentation of the Idea possible,
and yet it stands as a deterrent principle to the full
presentation of the Form. On the one hand it is the
sine qua non of physical nature, shows itself in real
physical effects, and is the basis of mechanical causation,
motion, and impact. On the other hand it stands in the
way of the Forms actualizing themselves fully, and it
prevents the universe from perfecting itself as God is
perfect. While Matter is not an indifferent negative
(as in Plato's teaching), but the necessary substratum
of corporeal things, it is however the indeterminate, and
the ground of the accidental and purposeless in nature.
Matter is the infinite and unlimited, and is the source of
unusual phenomena, like monstrosities and abortions.
Both fate and accident are due to the retarding influence
of Matter, because it obstructs the successful working
out of Form. Quite in accord with Greek thought, Aris
totle conceived necessity and chance to be fundamen
tally the same, and the Greek custom of drawing lots
shows the universality of the notion.
5. Aristotle's Conception of Nature. Nature is there
fore to Aristotle a far more complex world than Plato
had conceived it. Nature has a double character to Aris
totle, as his twofold conception of causation shows.
Nature is composed of mechanical and teleological causes.
Purpose and necessity are the two principles of motion
in the world, and in this twofold conception of causa
tion did Aristotle reconcile Plato and Democritus. How
ever much Aristotle concedes to the Democritan idea of
ARISTOTLE 193
mechanical necessity, it is evident that in his conception
of nature the principle of teleology predominates over
the mechanical. The highest actuality is God, and he
is a final or teleological cause ; and all results of value
in nature come through final causes. Final causes are
primary causes ; mechanical causes are secondary causes.
There would be no motion whatever in the universe but
for the highest final cause, God. Yet God is the unmoved
mover, and matter cannot move itself. Motion occurs
because matter feels the impulse to form itself like God.
How different this Aristotelian conception of nature
from our modern scientific conception of an impersonal
nature under a mechanical causation that is universal!
The teleological conception of nature and natural events
was very strongly intrenched in the human mind during
the Middle Ages, and was not dislodged easily by mod
ern investigation. Nature was a living thing to Aris
totle. It was at once intrinsically spontaneous, and self-
determined and uniform. Its spontaneity was not that of
capricious chance. Its uniformity was that of purpose
and end. On the other hand, the Aristotelian concep
tion of nature is not the same as either the Christian
doctrine of created nature or Darwin's theory of evolu-
lution. The world of Aristotle had always existed ; it is
a limited world in space, but not in time. Also the di
vine reason always existed in it. Yet its evolution is not
a progressive climbing sort, like the Darwinian, in which
new species evolve. It means only that there is a re
lationship of rank and value among nature objects.
Nature is a unity. Teleological change occurs within it.
Nature is therefore a connected system of living
beings in the process of development from Form to
Form, approximating the Deity and existing as the
194 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
potentiality of the Deity. There is a graded scale of
things of relative worth. But the double standard of es
timating the worth of nature-objects — that of mechan
ical necessity and that of teleological cause — makes
two different series, which find their union only at the
end in God. From our foregoing description of the
nature of God, it will be seen that he has two essen
tial characteristics : he is Being who ever rests within
himself and remains like himself ; and he is a pure
reason. He therefore combines in himself the two na
ture series in their most ideal character. Nature-objects
in the series of mechanical necessity have as their ideal
character just that uniformity, regularity, and order
that we find in the abiding Being of God. The greater
the uniformity, the more nearly like God. Nature-
objects, in the teleological series, have as their ideal
characteristic the reason of God. The more nearly ra
tional such a living being is, the more nearly is it like
God. In the one line the series of phenomena ascends
from the disorder of the terrestrial universe to the abso
lute uniformity of the stars, which are close to God. In
the other line the series ascends in teleological values
from the mechanical and vegetative characteristics of
organisms to their rational activity. Both series termi
nate in God. The stars have rational intelligence and
the most uniform motions. Aristotle conceived Physics
as the science that includes the first series, and the sec
ond series he conceived to be included by Psychology,
Ethics, and Politics.
The Mechanical Series, — Aristotle's Theory of
Physics. The general astronomical assumptions of the
time determined Aristotle's theory of the physical
world. He adopted the old Pythagorean conception of
ARISTOTLE
195
the limited world-all : a hollow sphere made up of con
centric crystalline spheres. In opposition to the Pytha
goreans, he conceived the earth at the centre. It is
spherical and stationary. Around it the crystalline
spheres revolve, in which the moon, sun, five planets,
and fixed stars are placed. The fixed stars are in
the rim of the great sphere, are outside all, and are
nearest therefore to God, who animates all. God as it
were holds the world-all in the hollow of his hand. He
moves the whole, which in turn moves the fifty-five
concentric crystal spheres within. The principle of the
movement of fixed stars is that of the Deity, while the
principle of the other spheres is that of the spirits
which reside in them. The movement of the planets
have an influence upon terrestrial life. Aristotle made
the usual Pythagorean division between the celestial
and the terrestrial parts of the world-all, which has
had so much influence upon theology. The motion of
the world-all is most perfect, being a circle ; its form is
most perfect, being a sphere. The celestial part of this
world-all, which is the region lying near the periphery,
is most like God. The motion of this heaven is circu
lar, and it is the place of uniformity, perfectness, and
changeableness. The stars do not change nor pass away.
They are superhuman beings, who in their regularity
are like the blessed gods. The terrestrial part of the
world-all below the moon has motions in straight lines.
This is the theatre of imperfection and irregularity, of
increase and diminution.
There are many interesting discussions by Aristotle
upon particular physical matters, such as space, time,
the elements. His conception of motion shows how the
series of uniform nature-motions lead up to the second
196 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
series of teleological values. In nature there are three
kinds of motion : change of place (mechanical) ; change
in quality (chemical) ; change in substance (organic).
While change of place is the lowest kind of motion, it is
necessary to chemical and organic changes. Yet Aris-
iotle refuses to allow that qualitative changes can be
reduced to quantitative changes, but maintains that
quality is self-subsistent. Organic change, or change in
substance, on the contrary, has a higher Form of reality
than the lower changes. This stand taken by Aristotle,
in refusing to reduce qualitative to quantitative deter
minations, shows how comprehensive and sane a scien
tist he was. It introduces us to a psychology and an
ethics that are intimately linked to physics, and at the
same time have realms of their own. Let us now turn
to the series of qualitative nature changes, or to psycho
logy, ethics, and politics.
The Teleological Series : The Qualitative Changes
of Phenomena.
i. The Psychology of Aristotle. As the first experi
mental psychologist, Aristotle intimately connected his
studies in psychology with his studies in biology and
medicine. Man is a part of the world of nature, and
psychology is in part a comparative study. As we pass
upward from the mechanical changes, we find chemical
changes of quality, and then changes of organic life.
Studying the organic realm, we find organism to con
sist of souls of relative ranking. There are vegetative
souls, sensitive souls, and rational souls. Plants have
vegetative souls with the powers of assimilation and
propagation ; besides vegetative souls animals have sen
sitive souls, with the powers of appetition and locomo
tion; man possesses, besides both these souls, the ra-
ARISTOTLE 197
tional soul. Here is a series of teleological relationships,
where the purpose of the organism is explained only by
the activity of its soul. The soul builds up its body as
a system of organs, and as an organology the theory of
Aristotle has great significance. Nature strives ever
upward, even in the inorganic processes, through an
unbroken series of creations to its highest Form in man.
Each step in the upward progress is the realization of
an entelechy, or purpose, and constitutes for the mo
ment the goal of the impulse to strive. The whole world
is striving to realize the perfect Form. The lower ends,
the mechanical and vegetable and appetitive Forms, are
not lost but are utilized in the process ; for they are
the Matter upon which the Forms higher than them
selves are built. Every member is both Form and Mat
ter in the whole series.
The psychology has therefore two parts : (1) the
general theory of animal souls, which possesses rich
suggestions; (2) the doctrine of the Nous as the dis
tinctive characteristic of man. These are the empirical
and speculative sides to Aristotle's psychology.
Man is an epitome of all the changes in the universe.
He has vegetative, appetitive, and rational souls. Yet
there is unity in man, for the lower souls are subser
vient to the reason and exist for it. The appetitive
soul is the Form of the vegetative soul, the Matter of
the Rational soul, etc. Accordingly, Aristotle defines the
soul as the entelechy of the body, because bodily human
activity is enlisted in the service of the reason. Reality
in man is an unfolding purpose, just as it is in nature.
The real self is this unfolding rational self, whose pos
sibility is the body ; whose actuality is pure reason. The
mind is actualized body, the body is potential mind.
198 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
Aristotle made many contributions to psychology
about the origin and value of the several sensations,
about the feelings of pleasure and pain and the desires.
He shows his remarkable genius in pointing to the
necessity of a unity of consciousness, which he calls
the " common-sensibility." His discussion of the Nous,
or reason, is of importance for two reasons : first, be
cause it leads to and illuminates his ethical theory ;
and second, because it is an example of his deviation
from his original conceptual position. The reason, ac
cording to his first intention, is the unfolding purpose
of the body, — it is the immanent essence of the body.
As Aristotle finally left his discussion of the Eeason, it
is as transcendent as his God, or as any Idea of Plato.
The Nous, or Reason, is not a Form of the body, but
a Form of the soul. It is purely immaterial, simple,
unchangeable, and incapable of suffering. It does not
originate with the body as a function. It comes from
without as a godlike activity, and will remain after
the body passes away. Its fundamental activity is
thought, and its object is those ultimate principles
of Being which are the ultimate premises of logical
thinking.
Aristotle's theory of the Reason is considerably com
plicated by his division of it into two parts, — the ac
tive and the passive Reason. Within itself, the Reason
is to be distinguished as Form and Matter. The pas
sive Reason is the Matter for the active Reason, and
the active Reason is the Form for the passive Reason.
By the passive Reason Aristotle evidently means the
individual and developing man. The active Reason
can alone persist after death, but whether absorbed in
the Deity or not he does not say. Immortality to
ARISTOTLE
199
Aristotle in any case is not a perpetuation of the
individuality.
2. The Ethics of Aristotle. We have seen that
nature phenomena are of two classes, — those mechani
cally related, and those related as to their purposes or
ends. Physics is concerned with the first class ; psy
chology is concerned with the second class. But in a
special way are ethics and politics sciences of the phe
nomena of the second class — sciences of ideologically
related phenomena. Moral life is an unfolding essence
having a possibility and an actuality. The Possibility
or Matter of the ethical life is our feelings, tempera
ment, disposition, impulses, and perceptions — just those
psychological factors that make up the endowment of
the human personality. The ultimate Form or actuality
of the ethical life is the reason. The reason as the
goal of the moral being determines its character. Man
is distinctly a rational being. Virtue is the process of
the ethical life from its possibilities to its actuality ; it
is the essence of the ethical life. Virtue is that contin
uous state of mind that makes rational activity possible.
So much for the factors that make the ethical situation 5
the natural endowments of the mind are its material,
the reason is its goal, while the means of developing
the natural endowments into rational activity is virtue.
The situation would be simple enough for us as
moral beings if, in our striving, each had only himself
and his own development to consider. But man lives
in a world of men, and his highest good is determined
somewhat by his environment, — by riches, bodily com
forts, success. These are not essentials but only acces
sories, and the lack of them is only a limitation. The
essential factor is the rational activity. Nevertheless,
200 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
these modify the definition of what we mean when we
define rational activity as the highest Good or Form of
the moral life. For the question which Aristotle pro
poses in his notable treatise of Ethics is, What is the
end or supreme good of human action ? The highest
Good for a man among men is Happiness, or well-being ;
that includes not only rational activity, but also the
pleasures that accrue to such activity. But what is
happiness ? It is an end in itself, and not the means
to anything else ; it is the result of functioning, a state
of conscious vitality ; it accords with the law of excel
lence of that functioning. Perfect happiness is, there
fore, partly the result of one's own individual effort,
partly dependent on circumstance. While virtue is
the measure of the worth of different pleasures, yet
pleasures do not always attend our acts in our present
society. The greatest Good is happiness, but since this
depends in part on external goods, the goal to which
we should directly attend — the factor within our con^
trol — is rational activity.
There are two classes of virtues based on the two
kinds of rational life, — the practical virtues and the di-
anoetic virtues. The practical virtues are those of conduct
based upon the rational control of the impulses ; the
dianoetic virtues are those of intellectual activity based
upon the development of the perceptions. The perfect
moral development of human nature will consist (1) in
the perfect development and true regulation of the feel
ings and desires in moral excellence ; and (2) a perfect
development of the intellectual faculties for rational
culture.
(a) The Practical Virtues. The essential thing for
the individual to regard, therefore, is the training of
ARISTOTLE
201
his will by right rational insight. He should seek to
direct his impulses by reason, and not only once but
so many times that the impulses will become rational
habits. This is what Aristotle means by training in
virtue. It is continuity in rational activity ; it is a
permanent development toward reason ; it is the un
folding of the real Self. Aristotle had regard for the
facts of life when he differed from Socrates, who said
that virtue is knowledge. Aristotle did not conceive
the will as psychological power independent of the
reason. He doubted if rational insight was more power
ful than the impulses, when the test comes. Experience
often shows that although we may know what is right,
an impulse will often drive us into habits not guided
by reason. This presupposes for Aristotle a will that
is free to choose among the desires that one which will
lead him along the path that reason points out.
It is impossible to formulate a rule for the acquire
ment of the particular virtues. Each virtue must be
treated by itself. The only principle for guidance is
that the reason should always seek the mean between
two extremes. Thus courage is the mean between cow
ardice and rashness ; temperance between intemperance
and insensibility ; friendliness between obsequiousness
and brusqueness, etc. Moderation is the watchword in
the cultivation of the practical virtues.
(6) The Dianoetic Virtues are the means toward
the attainment of pure rationality for one's self. The di-
anoetic virtues are higher than the practical. They un
fold the pure formal activity of the Nous, and give the
most noble and perfect pleasure. Man finds through
them his possible participation in the divine happiness.
These intellectual virtues may be either theoretical or
202 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
practical insight ; in the latter case, Aristotle meant
knowledge of the right in art, and knowledge of jus
tice. But the purest is Wisdom (0ewpiV), which is know
ledge for its own sake. It is the knowledge that God
has of himself. Man may approximate this.
In Aristotle's ethical theory there appear three fea
tures that are distinctly Greek. (1) The leading ques
tion that he asks at the beginning of the Ethics, What
is the end or Supreme Good of human action ? is Greek.
The modern writer asks, What is the nature of duty ?
(2) The emphasis on the " mean " is Greek. The idea
of the " mean " was the fundamental principle in Greek
life, and appeared in such literature as Gnomic poetry
and Plato. (3) The subordination of individual ethical
conduct to the conception of the state is Greek. Aris
totle says that politics will have to settle the question
of the Supreme Good, for the Good of the state and
that of the individual are identical.
The Political Philosophy of Aristotle. In the present
real world rational activity rather than happiness is the
chief concern of man. Happiness is, however, his high
est Good, which he can attain if his environment favors
him. The political environment is a moral factor to
be considered. The state should be the fulfillment of
the morals of the individual, and should also be his
ethical trainer. That State is fulfilling its own possi
bilities most completely which brings to the full its
natural endowments. Every Constitution is right that
has the weal of the people at heart, so that we find Aris
totle holding this extraordinarily liberal position, that
the external structure of the State is not so much of
consequence as that the State should be the educator
of its people and the actualization of its own in-
ARISTOTLE 203
herent possibilities. Aristotle did not construct an
ideal state, like Plato. He merely pointed out some es
sentials necessary to the well-being of a state, like ed
ucation and providence for the future life of the State.
Although the State is the offspring of necessity, and
arises out of the needs of utility, it is the Form or
actuality of the inner self-realization of man from his
savagery. Race, blood, soil, and geographical position
are all the Matter of the State ; the rational perfection
of these is the Form ; the civic virtue is the permanent
means of the social development. The individual in
Aristotle's State is subordinated, but not absorbed, in
the State. He can participate in the intellectual virtues.
Since his own enjoyment in wisdom approximates
God's, he himself has distinction. Aristotle was a stanch
supporter of marriage and the family relations. No
philosopher in ancient times so elevated the position of
woman. He reluctantly consented to the institution of
slavery because it seemed to him a necessity.
CHAPTER IX
THE HELLENIC-ROMAN PERIOD (322 B. C.^476 A. IX)
Its Time Length.
Greek Period, 300 years.
Hellenic-Roman Period, 800 years.
Middle Ages, 1000 years.
Modern Period, 450 years.
We ought to appreciate at the beginning the enor
mous time length of this period. It seems long since
modern thought began, but it was only about 450
years ago. The Hellenic-Roman Period was 800 years
long, or nearly twice as long as modern times. It is,
furthermore, two and a half times as long as the period
which we have just been discussing, — the pure Greek
period. Now the Hellenic-Roman Period and the Middle
Ages together form the epoch of human history that
is relatively uncreative. This is an extent of 1800
years, a long interval when compared with the 750
years of creative history, which represents the com
bined length of the pure Greek Period and modern
times. In European history the periods of productive
thought have been less than half as long as those of
the unproductive. Yet we must not be misled by such
statistics. History is an organic growth. Its seedtime
and growth are long ; its harvest is short.
The Fall of the Greek Nation and the Persistence
of its Civilization. The 800 years after the death of
Aristotle are named the Hellenic-Roman Period, be
cause Greek civilization burst its own national bound-
THE HELLENIC-ROMAN PERIOD
205
aries and became a part of Roman civilization. The
Greek nation died ; its culture remained. It is no
longer pure Greek, but Greek in the environment of
the Roman world — it becomes Hellenism. With the
death of Alexander in 323 B. c. the motherland of
Greece became a prey to revolutions for 200 years. It
was often the battleground of foreigners and the object
of their contentions. Its government and population
sank into hopeless decay. It was incorporated into the
THE
EMPIRE
Of?
ALEXANDER
THE EMPIRE OF ALEXANDER
(Showing the spread of Hellenism eastward, beginning 334 B. c. with Alexander's
Campaign)
Roman empire in 146 B. c. and shared in the depressing
times of the Civil Wars of the first century B. c. By
becoming a part of Rome Greece lost its uniqueness
but the world gained its culture as a common heritage.
Its autonomy was forever gone, but its people became
the teachers of mankind. In political power Greece
reached its height with Alexander, in creative thought
with Aristotle ; then by its own momentum its civiliza
tion persisted as a missionary force to the whole world.
206 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
The overflow of Greek civilization was first east
ward, to the nations of Asia. Alexander, with his mili
tary and administrative genius, had only made a prelim
inary conquest of these Oriental peoples. The conquest
became permanent through Greek art, learning, and
institutions. In the century after Alexander the habits
and customs of the East had been Hellenized. Greek
schools, theatres, and baths were to be found in almost
every city of the East. In the East and Egypt an in
exhaustible field was opened for the founding of new
centres of culture. In the kingdoms partitioned off
from the old Alexandrian domain, the kings were
Greek, spoke Greek, adored Greek gods, and pre
served Greek fashions. Amid Asiatics they sought to
maintain Greek courts, have Greek administrative offi
cers, and be surrounded with Greek scholars. Greek
colonists, soldiers, and merchants were attracted to
these kingdoms in such numbers that the natives
adopted the costumes, religions, manners, and even the
language of the Greeks. The Orient ceased to be
Asiatic and became Hellenic. The Romans found there
in the first century B. c. peoples like the Greeks who
spoke Greek.
Greek civilization began to overflow upon the west
ern world when, in the second century, Greece with all
the other countries upon the Mediterranean was ab
sorbed by Rome. The conquest of Greece by Rome in
146 B. c. gave currency to Greek art, letters, and
morals in Roman life. That Greek civilization was not
lost in this great amalgamation shows how deep and
fundamental it was. The secondary nations disappeared
and none remained to compete with the Greek and
Latin. The result was the superiinposition of Greek
THE HELLENIC-ROMAN PERIOD 207
culture upon Roman society. At the time of the con
quest of Greece, Greek scholars went to Rome in great
numbers and opened schools of eloquence and litera
ture. Later the Roman youths went to Athens to studyr
Art and science were gradually introduced into Rome
The old Roman house got a Greek addition. Statues
and paintings were transported from Greece to Rome.
Greek artists were commissioned. By 100 B. c. the
great Romans were living in Greek or Oriental style.
The coarsest Greeks, too, came into Italy and mingled
with the Roman proletariat. Thus, with the complete
Latinizing of the peninsula of Italy in the second
century, an increasing Hellenism went hand in hand.
But the two civilizations never completely united.
Roman adoption of Greek culture was never more than
a veneer. Greek art and learning were rarely studied
by the Roman except as a parade and luxury. As time
went on the Roman resorted less to the classic and
more to the frivolous modern products of the Greeks.
For it must be remembered that when Greece was con
quered by Rome, the Romans were still only peasants,
soldiers, and merchants, without science, art, or philoso
phy. Before 150 B. c. the Roman children were taught
nothing higher than reading, writing, etc. But the
Roman found a culture in Greece that he liked and
imitated. He kept his costume, languager and political
laws, but he adopted Greek letters, art, morals, and
incorporated many elements of the Greek religion into
his own.
Two results came from this superimposition of Greek
culture upon Roman society. On the one hand the
Greek sought to create a philosophy which would make
him a citizen of the world, since it was no longer an
208 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
honor to be a citizen of a Greek city. On the other
hand, to the Roman there came a mixed good. There
was a gain to Roman literature and perhaps to juris
prudence, but a fatal loss to Roman faith and morals.
On the whole Roman vulgarity was only concealed by
Greek culture, except in such spirits as Scipio, Pau-
lus, and the Gracchi, in whom culture was genuine.
The Roman felt the need of rich intellectual life, and
he sought it in the rich treasures and the filth of later
Greek culture. The Greek culture that he found was
no longer pure Greek, but Hellenism, sometimes tinged
with Orientalism. It acted as a poison on the Roman
and often was bitterly opposed.
The Two Parts of the Hellenic-Roman Period. We
must not forget that, excepting the first 175 years of
this period, Rome is the background upon which all phi
losophical movements of the time are to be traced. Upon
this background two general movements are prominent,
which divide the period into two parts : (1) the Ethical
Period, and (2) the Religious Period.
1. The Ethical Period, 322 B. c.-l A. D., had its
origin in the Greek culture that was superimposed upon
Roman civilization. This epoch is notable for the rise
and controversies of the four celebrated philosophical
Schools of Athens; the introduction of the teaching of
these Schools into Roman society ; and the final merg
ing and reconciliation of these Schools in Eclecticism
and Skepticism.
2. The Religious Period, 100 B. C.-476 A. D.,
arose out of the Oriental religions that swept into
Rome before the beginning of this era. They were mod
ified by their Roman environment, and intellectualized
and systematized by Hellenic culture. Neo-Pythagore-
THE HELLENIC-ROMAN PERIOD 209
anism, the Alexandrian-Judaic theosophies in the first
part, Christianity and neo-Platonisin in the second part
of this period, are the most important philosophical re
sults.
Note three things. (1) The spiritual life of Rome dur
ing these 800 years has its origin in imported foreign
movements. The source of the ethical movement is
Greek, that of the religious movement is Oriental. (2)
The two movements overlap. Indeed, each from its be
ginning to its end covers about 600 years. More pre
cisely the ethical movement did not disappear until about
200 A. D. ; the religious movement began about 200 B. C.
Ethical considerations dominate the first and religious •
impulses the second period. (3) The century and a half
from 150 B. C. to 1 A. D. is a period of transition. It
is the time when the emphasis changes from ethics to
religion. It is a period of unsettled conditions both
politically and intellectually. Politically it is the time
of the Civil wars and the formation of the empire. In
tellectually it is the time of Eclecticism and Skepti
cism.
The Undercurrent of Skepticism in the Hellenic-
Roman Period. If we go beneath the surface of the
chronological divisions of this period, which have been
given above, we shall find their significance in the un
dercurrent of Skepticism, which runs from the begin
ning to the end of the period, and includes both its
ethical and religious phases. " Skepticism " is a word
with a history of its own, but, as philosophically used, it
means the disbelief in the possibility of true knowledge.
Skepticism was the fundamental frame of mind that
gradually grew to conscious expression in the entire
ancient world, although it was entirely at variance
210 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
with the spirit of the Greek culture that had been su^
perimposed upon that world. As an undercurrent —
a widespread feeling — Skepticism pervaded the whole
period, while at different times and places it appeared
distinctly on the surface. These were 800 years of lack
of confidence in the power of the human reason, but the
really negative character of the time is often concealed
by dogmatic teachings of the philosophical Schools.
Dogmatic Skepticism does not appear except with
reference to the positive teachings of the Schools, and
then it appears conspicuously. The successive stages of
Skepticism can have their clear outline, therefore, only
after the positive philosophical teachings, contemporary
with it and opposed by it, have been understood. This
is the reason for treating the Skeptics after and not
before the Schools. The reader will, however, lose the
whole meaning of the Hellenic-Roman Period if he
does not see that it is fundamentally Skeptical ; that
in the Ethical Division the Schools furnished the occa
sion of its appearance, and that in the Religious Division
religious faith rose because Skepticism had taken pos
session of the field of knowledge. The ethical Schools
stood as the last representatives of the old Greek ration
alism of the Systematic Period, but even they yielded
to the Skeptical spirit of the time. Stoicism, Epicurean
ism, and Skepticism seek the same end, — the with
drawal of the individual from the world and his exalta
tion above his environment. All three valued science
only so far as it would help ethical conduct. Skepti
cism alone was avowedly antagonistic to intellectual
ideals. The strength of Skepticism appears more evi
dent when we look at its growth during this period.
At the end of the Ethical Period the Schools weakened
THE HELLENIC-ROMAN PERIOD 211
and we find a century and a half (150 B. c. - 1 A. D.)
of Skepticism and Eclecticism. There then followed at
the beginning of this era the Religious Period. Man
then turned to religion because he was profoundly skep
tical of the trustworthiness of the reason — he felt
that it was so untrustworthy as to be unable to furnish
him even a true theory of moral conduct.
The Skeptical undercurrent of the Hellenic-Roman
Period was the concentration of all the negative results
of the Greek Sophists. It therefore had more than one
point of departure, — the philosophies of Protagoras,
of the Megarian, Cynic, and Cyrenaic Schools. This
Sophistic undercurrent fed popular thought during the
days of Plato and Aristotle. It took its formal begin
ning contemporary with the rise of the Stoic and Epicu
rean Schools ; and in Athens, Alexandria, and Rome
there rose to the surface the problem of the possibility
of human knowledge. Formally it modified its sweep
ing negations, when it came in contact with the pressing
needs of morality and of spiritual retirement, but it
was ever present as the significant attitude of the time.
While the nature of the Skeptical teaching stood in the
way of its formation into a School, the doctrine itself,
nevertheless, developed into a system and had its his
torical growth and culmination. Weber points out that
the first appearance of Skepticism marks in Greece the
inauguration of the age of reason and its reappearance
marks the decline of the age of reason.
The Fundamental Problem of the Hellenic-Roman
Period. The fundamental attitude of this period being
Skepticism, the fundamental problem presented to it
was therefore a practical one. While at heart the age
doubted the validity of the human reason, it was con-
212 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
sciously engaged in solving a very practical problem.
The period had an external side that was positive. No
age can be merely skeptical, especially for so long a
time as 800 years. To doubt the power of the human
reason is usually the occasion of shunting human ener
gies along other lines. The form of the practical prob
lem of this time was, What is the highest wisdom for
practical life ? This is consonant with the skeptical
attitude of the Greek as indicated by these two facts :
(1) he had no longer an interest in speculation except
as it afforded a basis for practical wisdom, and (2) he
had no longer an interest in special sciences except as
they yielded practical results. To be sure, it will be
found that theories took to themselves airs of great im
portance during this period and that empirical sciences
made rapid advances ; but it will also be found that
they were always in the service of practical living. The
Wise Man of this age is he who has a scientific doc
trine of the purposes and ends of human life.
For with his entrance into world-wide relations in
the Ethical Period the Athenian found himself con
fronted with a very different situation from that which
had engaged him during the age of Pericles. His na
tional existence had gone and could no longer arouse
his devotion, and with it his ideal of a national life
had crumbled to pieces. His epic polytheism had be
come a dim thing of the distant past, and there was
no longer any external Greek institution to awaken his
slumbering energies. He might, of course, go into re
tirement and engage in speculative inquiry, except that
this was an age of pressing need. He was forced to be
awake and to adjust himself as an individual to the many
other peoples mixing and mingling in one common civ«
THE HELLENIC-ROMAN PERIOD 213
ilization. His relations were enlarged, but his interests
were circumscribed. His philosophy was focused to one
fundamental problem, What, after all, is the object of
human life, and what can give happiness to the indi
vidual amid the turmoil of the time? Philosophic
studies were narrowed to ethics, logic, and physics in
their practical bearing. How much narrower, then, the
scope of the intellectual life of this time than that of
those men of retired leisure, Plato and Aristotle!
Nor is the fundamental problem different when in
the second part of this period we enter the great sweep
of the religious current. The rise of religious ideals
and the shift from ethics to religion was only the pre
sentation of the practical problem of living with a
different emphasis. Man was now in the dazzling glory
of the empire, but that empire was unable to compen
sate the individual for the loss of his political impor
tance. Rome had given to its conquered peoples an
organized legal unity, but no spiritual ideal. It had
none to offer. The individual was the least important
factor in the organization. The present life offered
little hope to the individual, except in the light of a
future life. Practical wisdom thus became that which
took account of the rewards and punishments that
would come in the life beyond.
The Hellenic-Roman Period is kaleidoscopic and be
wildering in its shif tings ; but amid them all is this one
conscious problem : " Show us the man who is sure of
his happiness, whatever the accidents of the world may
bring to him."
The Centres of Hellenism.
I. Athens. With the overflow of Hellenism to the
east and west the active history of Athens had ceased,
214 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
but she became venerated for what she had been. Greece
became hallowed and Athens became the shrine of
Greece in the imaginations of men. Although the city
was brutally ravished, she exercised a charm over thft
human mind for eight hundred years after Alexander*
Athens remained the intellectual centre through the
entire period. It became the conservative university
town, where philosophy and rhetoric were taught. It is
remarkable how many Oriental philosophers came to
Athens to teach, how many youths from the whole world
came to be taught. The rhetorical schools, such as that
of Isocrates, did much toward making Athens the centre
of culture, and they offered for many years the highest
practical training to Greek, Roman, and Oriental. Be
sides the rhetorical were the philosophical or dialectical
schools, which debated privately questions of speculative
metaphysics. These did not offer public training, but
groups of students were taught in the grounds attached
to gymnasia. Four principal philosophical schools were
thus formed, — the Academy of Plato, the Lyceum of
Aristotle, the Porch of the Stoics, and the Gardens of
Epicurus. In the first two we have had especial interest
in the previous period. All four, and especially the Stoic
and Epicurean schools, will engage our attention in this
period. They are known in history as " the Schools."
(See map for their location in Athens.) There were
many minor schools in Athens which later became reli
gious cults. These Schools lost their original interest
in speculative inquiry, and in this period devoted them
selves to the exposition of the teaching of their respective
founders on ethical lines. The University of Athens was
built upon the four Schools. Its chairs were endowed by
Hadrian and the Antonines in the second century A. D.
THE HELLENIC-ROMAN PERIOD 215
It grew to have an elaborate organization. It was abol
ished by Justinian in 529 A. D.
2. Alexandria. There were many other centres of
Hellenism and of other learning at this time, — Rhodes,
Antioch, Alexandria, Pergamus, Tarsus, — but none of
these could be said to rival Athens in the veneration
of men. Some were much more active and creative than
Athens. Alexandria surpassed Athens and all other
cities as the centre of the natural sciences in the Ethical
Period and of religions in the Religious Period. Here,
too, rather than at Athens, were to be found the real
interpreters of Plato and Aristotle. Nothing in ancient
times can be compared to the wonders of the museum
of Alexandria, which was its university. Scholars of
every nation were entertained here at the public ex
pense. A vast botanical garden, a zoological collection,
an anatomical museum, an astronomical observatory, a
library of seven hundred thousand volumes were here.
Here Euclid (290 B. c.) wrote his geometry, Eratosthe
nes pursued his astronomical, geographical, and historical
labors, Apollonius wrote his treatise on conic sections;
and here were made the observations that led to the dis
covery of the precession of the equinoxes. Here Ptolemy
and his school formulated the system of astronomy which
was authoritative for fifteen hundred years. Here the
Christian theologians were educated, and from this city
neo-Platonism sprang. Literature and art, history, phi
lology and criticism flourished. The Hebrew Bible was
translated into Greek. All religions were welcomed.
Buddhist, Jew, Greek, and Egyptian mingled, and com
parative theology rose to be a science.
General Characteristics of the Ethical Period (322
B. c.-l A. D.) — On the death of Aristotle the hitherto
216 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
compact "body of Greek thought disintegrated into its
several elements. Theoretical and practical knowledge,
which had been so successfully fused in the great sys
tems of Democritus, Plato, and Aristotle, became sepa
rated. The whole tendency of the time was toward segre
gation.
i. The Abandonment of Metaphysical Speculation*
The theoretical side of philosophy, which had been
so successfully completed by the great Greek masters,
now became subordinated and almost completely lost to
view. Metaphysical speculation was neglected except
as it threw light on the practical sciences — on ethics
and the natural sciences. Knowledge was no longer
loved for its own sake.
2o The Growth of Science. Since theory was re
garded as completed, attention was naturally turned
upon the details of erudition and the specializing of
science. The natural sciences survived the systems of
philosophy because of their usefulness. There was great
interest in investigations in mathematics, natural sci
ence, grammar, philology, literary history and general
history — and all with very rich results. It was the time
of commentaries, criticism, collaboration of the work of
the past and completion of the special work begun by
the past. By far the greater number of the so-called
"philosophers" of this time are connected with special
science and literature, and not with metaphysics.
It was in the Greek Islands and Egypt (Alexandria)
that this advance was made. Nevertheless, it must be
said that the advance in science was a good deal re
stricted. The empirical sciences are dependent on ob
servation and experiment, and these opportunities were
wanting at this time. Good progress was, however, made
THE HELLENIC-ROMAN PERIOD 217
in mathematics and the sciences dependent on reason
ing. Reasoning alone is incapable of advancing a science
like physics, for physics depends on investigation. But
even the prevalent skepticism of the time could not
doubt the truths of mathematics.
3. Ethics became the Central Interest. For the first
time in the history of European thought ethics was no
longer a part of politics. In the time of the autonomous
Greek states ethics and politics were two sides of the same
question both in theory and practice. Ethics and politics
were not disjoined even by the Sophists, who neverthe
less paved the way for the divorce of the two. Now for
the first time ethical questions have become such that
the individual must disregard the iron-bound political
situation and answer them entirely with reference to
himself. The decadent Greek state was no longer a
moral entity in the eyes of the people, nor could the
concentration of government in Rome raise the state to
moral dignity. Moreover, life had become cosmopolitan.
The nations were commingling. Ethics must meet the
needs of men as human beings, and not as Athenians,
Spartans, or Romans. Vices had become cosmopolitan
and virtues must needs be cosmopolitan also. But cos^
mopolitanism is in the last analysis only individualism.
The man who conceives his duty so large that it em
braces the whole world is usually cold to any special
interests except his own. The Roman dictators and
afterwards the emperor were the personification of this
cosmopolitan individualism which the subjects imitated
so far as they could.
Thus the public life was in danger of being swamped
by private interests and mere enjoyment, by gain and
the struggle for existence. The old belief in the gods,
218 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
the vigorous political activity for great ends, the pleas
ure in free scientific inquiry had disappeared. The only
refuge for the reflective mind was within itself and the
study of its own moral problems. Yet for this a definite
science of ethics was necessary, if the individual was to
be systematically independent of external things. Plato
and Aristotle had prepared the way for such retirement,
and the tendency toward ethical separation from the
world of political events was an aspect of the cosmopoli
tanism of the time. Ethical individuality and cosmopoli
tanism go together. The development of the inner life
belongs to those individuals who dwell together in spirit
ual community. The same cosmopolitanism was sought
by the skeptics of the period through the abandonment
of all knowledge.
The Schools. The beginning of the Ethical Period is
marked by the rise of the Schools into prominence, the
end of that period by the fusion of the Schools with one
another through either eclecticism or skepticism. At the
beginning of the period each School had its distinctive
doctrine and was in open controversy with the others ;
at the end their doctrines were much alike. The Epicu
rean School was an exception, for it always remained
isolated from the other Schools. While each School had
a host of notable representatives, it would be difficult
to find a creative thinker among them.
We have already given the names of the four Schools :
the Stoic or the Porch, the Epicurean or the Gardens,
the Aristotelian (Peripatetic) or the Lyceum, the Pla
tonic or the Academy. The Stoic and Epicurean are
called the New Schools in contrast with the Lyceum
and the Academy, which are called the Old Schools. The
New Schools were of Asiatic rather than Greek origin,
THE HELLENIC-ROMAN PERIOD
219
and the Old Schools departed very much from the teaching-
of their founders ; so that we find a very different kind of
philosophy taught in all four Schools from that taught by
the great Greek Systematizers. All the Schools were So
phistic rather than Socratic, and may be characterized as
the revival of Greek Sophistry. Besides these Schools
there was the group of Skeptics, which cannot be properly
MAP OF ATHENS, SHOWING THE LOCATION OF THE
FOUR SCHOOLS
(The Academy was three quarters of a mile from the city, the Lyceum just outside
the city, while the Porch was a colonnade on the market place (Agora). The location
of the Gardens is not precisely known, but it was on the road to the Academy, ju»t in-
aide the walls.)
called a School, for from the nature of its doctrine it
could not form an organization. In influence upon the
period, the Stoics, Epicureans, and Skeptics are the most
important. They eclipsed the Academy and Lyceum be
cause with partisan clearness they could formulate the
attitude of the age. The Stoic School made the most
220 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
important contribution to succeeding history. The Epi*
curean School had the most numerous following. Al«
though the four Schools were not endowed until the
Empire, their life was most vigorous before the Empire
during the Ethical Period. Succession in leadership of
the Schools cannot be completely traced — even that
of the Academy shows great gaps. All record of leader
ship in the Aristotelian, Stoic, and Epicurean Schools
stops at the close of this period.
The Old Schools — The Academy and the Lyceum.
The Academy and Lyceum have a history which in
these respects is the same : (1) both abandoned the ideal
of an ethical society and turned to that of individual
happiness; (2) both deviated to Skepticism; (3) both
afterward had a reaction from Skepticism ; (4) both de
veloped the Sophistic teaching rather than that of their
founders ; (5) both were in common opposition to the
New Schools.
i. The Academy. There were three Academies after
Plato — called three, because of the difference in their
doctrines. Perhaps it is better to say that there were
three successive epochs of the Academy.
(a) The Older Academy, lasting about seventy years,
from 347 B. c. to 280 B. c. The successive leaders of this
were Speusippus, the nephew of Plato (d. 339 B. c.),
Heracleides of Pontus, Xenocrates (d. 314 B. c.), Po-
lemo, and Crates. This Academy emphasized at first the
tendency begun by Plato in the Laws toward the Pytha
gorean numbers, and later yielded to the contemporary
interest in morals.
(5) The Middle Academy, lasting about one hun<
dred and fifty years, from 280 B. c. to 129 B. c. Of
this epoch Arcesilaus and Carneades were the most
THE HELLENIC-ROMAN PERIOD 221
prominent leaders. This Academy was a form of Skepti
cism.
(c) The New Academy, lasting three hundred years?
from 120 B. c. to 200 A. D. Among its leaders were
Philo of Larissa, who was at Rome in 87 B. c., and
Antiochus of Ascalon, who had Cicero as a pupil in
Athens in 79 and 78 B. c. This epoch of the Acad
emy represented a return to the dogmatism of Plato,
but it shows the contemporary eclectic tendency by its
including elements of Stoic and neo-Platonic teach
ings.
On the whole, the several epochs of the Academy-
failed to represent Plato's theory of the Ideas. The
Academy was at first a School of practical ethics, then
a Skepticism, then an eclecticism. It was related to
Plato as the lesser-Socratic schools were to Socrates.
The true developer of Plato was Aristotle and not
the Academies.
2. The Lyceum. From the death of Aristotle to
200 A. D. the Lyceum was represented by individuals.
The pupils of Aristotle were distinguished from the
master himself in being scientific specialists. Theo-
phrastus (370-287 B. c.), who followed Aristotle as
leader of the Lyceum, was the most complete repre
sentative of Aristotle, and an attempt to drive out the
Schools in Athens in 306 B. c. failed solely by reason
of the respect in which he was held. His significance
lay in natural science, and his two preserved botanical
works are of great importance. Eudemus of Rhodes
studied history, mathematics, and astronomy. Aristox-
enes studied music, ethics, psychology, and history.
Dicaearchus showed the first yielding to the contem
porary ethical interest by writing history on its practi'
222 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
cal side. Science was continued by the Aristotelians in
Sicily, Alexandria, and the Mediterranean islands. At
Athens the School was most interested in logic, dialec
tics, and eristics.
The history of the Lyceum was similar to that of
the Academy. At first it was centred in Theophrastus,
the brilliant disciple of the founder, — an administrator
who knew how to give an eminent position to the Ly
ceum in the intellectual life of Athens. This was fol
lowed by the naturalism and pantheism of Strato. The
following generations of scholarchs were absorbed in
empirical investigations. Then, as in the Academy,
came the reaction back to the original purpose of the
founder of the Lyceum. This occurred under An-
dronicus (about 70 B. c.), the eleventh head of the
School, and under him the original teachings of Aris
totle were reproduced and defended. This went on for
several centuries, until the School was merged in neo-
Platonism.
The New Schools — The Epicureans and the Stoics.
The Stoics, Epicureans, and Skeptics represent the
dogmatic side of this period more truly than the Pla-
tonists and Aristotelians, for they give a radical ex
pression to its social aspects. The Epicureans had less
philosophical originality ; but their doctrine had been
born mature in their founder, and had in consequence
a unity and compactness. Stoicism, on the other hand,
was an eclecticism composed of the successive philo-
sophizings of its champions through many centuries.
Stoicism was represented by many independent and
notable thinkers, while Epicureanism had only one
original thinker, — its founder, Epicurus. Stoicism de
veloped by changing its essentials, while Epicureanism
THE HELLENIC-ROMAN PERIOD 223
could change only in its unessentials. Stoicism may be
said to have been the characteristic philosophy of this
period, from the fact that it was created and developed
in Athens on the principles of Attic philosophy by men
who had originated in the mixed races of the East,
and by the fact that it was easily accepted and devel
oped by the Romans. Consistent with the spirit of the
Hellenic-Roman Period, it was by nature an eclecticism
that became more eclectic ; and as time went on its
teaching approached that of the Academy and Lyceum
(second century B. c.). Epicureanism, however, always
remained Epicureanism. Both Stoicism and Epicure
anism were centred at Athens. Epicurus opened his
School in the Gardens in 307 B. c., and Zeno began
his lectures in the Porch in 294 B. c. Both schools
were introduced into Rome in the middle of the second
century B. C., or just before the end of the Ethical
Period.
Epicureanism in Rome could easily be perverted
into an excuse for the luxurious tendencies of the time,
and since it advocated absolute government it voiced
the feeling of the new Empire — of the Emperor and
the people. As a philosophy it was opportune and pop
ular and at the same time easily misunderstood. It made
no demands upon its disciples. On the other hand, Stoi
cism was a discipline and demanded intellectual acumen
Its insensibility to art and culture was an insuperablo
obstacle to its progress in Greece, but on this account
it found congenial soil in Roman society. It made rapid
progress among the noble families, and was especially
identified with those patrician reactionaries who stood
for the old regime of the Republic.
We are not surprised to find that the Stoics and
224 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
Epicureans were violently opposed to each other. They
were the New Schools and contesting the same ground
for favor. They had the same aim and, with so much in
common, their differences were naturally accentuated.
In an age which Adam Smith has likened to the Thirty
Years' War in Germany, they sought as rivals to offer
as an ideal the individual independent of his surround-
ings. The Stoic presented one means of attaining this
ideal and the Epicurean another. Both tried to substi
tute a philosophic creed for the old religion. And the
crowds that still went to the Academy and Lyceum, and
were taught the old dogmatism, must have looked ask
ance at these new dogmatic Schools. Those crowds had
become second-rate men. The New Schools had at first
fewer numbers, but deeper thinkers. The Greek pupils
in the New Schools listened to foreigners teaching
strange creeds in strange tongues. But these new rivals
made their way. Not only at Athens, but at Corinth,
Elis, Colophon, and Heraclea in Pontus the elegant Pla
tonic style was being superseded by the crude aphorisms
of Epicurus and the clumsy arguments of Zeno.
It will be asked, How far did these doctrines during
these eight hundred years permeate the people ? Did the
New Schools reach the rank and file of the people to the
same degree that the Sophistic teachings reached the
Greeks? Are we to suppose that Stoicism and Epicure
anism were common and popular philosophies ? By no
means. These philosophies reached the people of the
Roman world no farther than Greek culture permeated
Roman society. Stoicism was consciously taken up by
the large patrician class. The patricians were the culti
vated Romans ; and Stoicism has so much in it like the
Roman gramtas that it formulated for the patricians
THE HELLENIC-ROMAN PERIOD 225
their attitude in this hopeless time. Epicureanism, on
the other hand, in its pure form as Epicurus taught it,
or later as Lucretius poetically expressed it, could find
less favor in Rome. But Epicureanism was easily per
verted, and no doubt the educated voluptuaries of Rome
would find in the vitiated doctrine a support and excuse
for their excesses.
A Summary of the Agreements and Differences of
the Stoics and Epicureans.
Their Agreements.
1. Both subordinated theory to practice.
2. Both had the same purpose in their practical
philosophy :
(a) to gain peace of mind for the individual,
(5) to gain independence of the world for the
individual.
Their Differences.
The Stoics. The Epicureans.
1. Universal law is su- The individual is supreme.
preme.
2. Man is a thinking Man is a feeling being.
being.
3. Independence is ob- Independence is obtained
tained by suppress- by idealizing the feel
ing the personal ings through serenity,
feelings.
4. The Stoics were re- The Epicureans were anti-
ligious, religious,
yet both schools accepted the popular gods.
5. The world is a moral The world is a mechanical
order. order.
226 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
6. The universal deter- The universal is the result
mines the individ- of the functioning of the
ual. individual.
I 7. The world is the ex- The world is the combina*
pression of an im- tion of atoms,
manent reason.
CHAPTER X
EPICUREANISM
The Life of Epicurus (341-270 B. c.). Epicurus
was born in Samos in Asia Minor. He was a school
teacher in Mitylene and Lampsacus, and in 307 B. c.
he established in Athens his Philosophical School, in a
garden within the walls on the road to the Academy
(see map). His School was thereafter called the Gar
dens. He claimed to have been self-taught, and he prob
ably did not have a thorough education. He did, how
ever, possess great personal charm and, as his doctrine
made few demands upon its disciples and expressed the
refilled and delicate hedonism of the time, it spread
very wide. His disciples held him in great reverence,
and long after his death the image of his personality
was a living influence with them. Indeed, it was the per
sonal work of Epicurus that was the supreme influence
with the sect. His formulas passed on from generation
to generation and were called " Golden Maxims."* He
wrote three hundred separate treatises, and in the
amount of his writings was exceeded in antiquity only
by the Stoic, Chrysippus. His great work, On Nature,
consisted of thirty-seven books. The other Schools
joined in a bitter attack upon him, and in modern times
he has been called Socrate double d'un Voltaire. Since
neither polytheism nor Christianity had any reason for
* Read Walter Pater, Marius the Epicurean; Hicks,
Stoic and Epicurean, p. 184, for the Golden Maxims of
Epicurus ; Teuffel, History of Roman Literature, pp. 83-86.
228 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
preserving his writings, they have been almost entirely
lost. Some have been found in Herculaneum, and many
more are thought to be still in that buried city. The
mother of Epicurus was a priestess, and her supersti
tions probably set him against the superstitions of his
age. His later acquaintance with the philosophy of
Democritus gave him a scientific basis for his aggression
against all religions.
The Epicureans. The Epicurean body was a guild
or sect that seemed to have been little affected by the
vicissitudes of time. The Epicureans proselyted vigor
ously, closely organized their society, and extended
it throughout Greece. It was a state within a state.
With a fixed constitution it was held together by itin
erant preaching, correspondence, and material assis^-
ance. It had an esprit de corps, and like religious com
munities it brought together into one organization the
individuals that had been scattered by the breaking up
of political institutions. The School had special protec
tion from the Roman emperors and existed as late as
the fourth century A. D., having outlived all the other
systems. It had some famous literary representatives, —
Metrodorus, Colotes, Philodemus, — but especially the
Roman poet Lucretius, who popularized the doctrine
for the Romans. Amafinius introduced Epicureanism
into Rome during the middle of the second century B. C.,
and the teaching was received with great favor. Its
numerous disciples in all antiquity changed the doctrine
only in its unessentials. The charges of immorality and
licentiousness are not true of the teaching or of the
practices of the founder or of the early members of the
School.
Some Types of Hedonism, — Aristippus, Epicurus,
EPICUREANISM 229
and Rousseau. Epicureanism was not a philosophy of
pleasure for people without ideals or who were merely
seeking indulgence. The question that Epicurus asked
was this : What enduring pleasure is possible to a man •
in these days of turmoil? He tried to give a rational
answer to those of his day who wished to live and enjoy.
His aim was to free man from responsibility in his
•share of the world's work and to provide for him a life
of serenity. The pleasure theory of Aristippus, the
Cyrenaic, was very different. Aristippus, a voluptuary
in a luxurious city, presented a pleasure theory for the
few who have fortunes. It is hardly more than a grad
ing of pleasures and the setting up of a criterion of
their selection. Epicurus goes deeper than that. His
pleasure theory is for the few, not because they are for
tunate, but because they are wise ; not because they
have fortunes to gratify their passions, but because
they are independent of all fortune. The Cyrenaic
was a man of the world; the Epicurean was in the „•
world, but not of it.
There is a superficial resemblance between the teach
ing of Epicurus and the message of Rousseau to the
French people of the eighteenth century. Both sought
an ideal of enduring plea&ure. Both would discard the
artificialities of society. But Rousseau was a political
reformer and attempted to find his ideal in a newly
constructed society. Epicurus, on the other hand, was
no political reformer, but would find his ideal in society
as it existed. Rousseau appealed to the primitive feel
ings. He felt " the call of the wild." Epicurus appealed
to the refined and derivative feelings. He had no ag
gressive propaganda. He aimed at no external reform.
His ideal was peace, and not the sword.
230 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
The Epicurean Ideal. The central principle of
Epicurus is that pleasure is a good and pain an
evil. In this he was in agreement with Aristippus, and
from this position he never receded. He offered no
proof of this, but rested his central principle upon the
conviction that men pursue pleasure and avoid pain.
He was convinced of the biological fact. But he was
not unobservant from the beginning that the subject
was complex. He saw that the individual has to make
a selection of pleasure and often has to choose pain for
r the sake of a greater pleasure. Pleasure is the only
good, but Epicurus asks further, What is pleasure ?
He finds that he must give a content to pleasure and
evaluate the pleasures in the interests of pleasure it
self. This was to Epicurus no moral appraisal, but with
reference to the ^pleasantest possible life.
Of the two qualities of pleasure Epicurus valued
its duration and showed his advance over the Cyre-
naics, who had valued its intensity. It was on this ac
count that the Epicureans disclaimed all relationship
with the Cyrenaics, the earlier school. The difference
is certainly a radical one between them : to Epicurus
true pleasure is that which endures ; to Aristippus it
is that which is most intense, however fleeting. There
is this to be said of the Cyrenaic theory : it could be
easily understood. Aristippus could tell exactly what
he meant by pleasure. It is this or that gratification of
sense. It includes every positive pleasure, and that
which is intensest is best. One always knows when he
is enjoying, and in flitting from pleasure to pleasure he
knows when he is intensely enjoying. But the Cyrenaic
presented no ideal. While the Epicurean theory is more
difficult to understand, it is more mature and more pro-
EPICUREANISM 231
found because it presents a well-conceived ideal. Indeed,
the farther we follow Epicurus along this line of his
pursuit of the ideal of lasting pleasure, the more are
we impressed with his contribution to our knowledge
of the nature of pleasure.
In this connection Epicurus shows his comprehensive
jrasp of the subject in determining what are the last
ing pleasures. Although he was a materialist he re
garded the pleasures of the mind as superior to those
of the body. The inner pleasures, the spiritual joys, the
control of the mind so that it could enjoy without in
dulgence — these were to Epicurus the enduring pleas
ures. The pleasures of sense are primary, for, in the
last analysis, the mental life is a combination of sen
sations, and sensations are only material motions ; nev
ertheless the secondary and derivative pleasures of the
mind were superior, according to Epicurus, because they
had duration. This estimate of the superiority of the
mental pleasures was probably reinforced by two other
reasons : such pleasures were possessed by Epicurus ;
and such a doctrine was in accord with the Greek aes
thetic ideal of self -enjoyment of the refined egoist.
The most permanent state of mind is called by Epi
curus independence of the world ^ on the one hand, and
emotionlessness, on the other. These are the positive
and negative sides of one and the same thing — the
Epicurean ideal of pleasure. In ancient times the con
ception of the " affections," " passions," or " emotions "
included all states of feeling and will in which man
is dependent on the outer world. To be emotionless is
to be independent of the world. The Epicurean word
is gtaraxia^ which is variously translated as serenity,
peace, repose, imperturbability. Since man has no con-
232 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
trol over the world without him, he must control ite
effects within himself. These effects are the feelings and
desires which are by nature only mental disturbances.
In mastering these he becomes independent of the
world.
If one will scrutinize his life, he will find, according
to Epicurus, that his experiences form a stream of men
tal disturbances. These may be divided into two classes,
— desires and positive pleasures. Desires are wants
and want is pain. Pain is therefore exciting. Positive
pleasure presupposes desire and want, and such pleasure
is also an excitement, — the excitement that accompanies
the removal of want. The positive pleasures are not,
therefore, the goal of independence of the outer world.
There is another kind of pleasure — the pleasure of re
pose. Epicurus recognizes therefore both the pleasure of
motion and the pleasure of repose, but they do not have
the same importance in his system. Repose is the goal of
all our experiences. It is a neutral state, a state of free
dom from bodily pain and mental excitement. There is
nothing higher than such a neutral state. We cannot
advance beyond it. If we seek new pleasures by grati
fying new desires, we are only returning to the old
round of want, desire, and the pleasurable excitement
of removing the want. The pleasure of repose is the
only escape from this round of experiences. Emotion
lessness is the maximum pleasure — it is the repose in
independence of the world. Any deviation from it may
vary but it will not increase our pleasure.
This ideal of Epicurus looks very much like the
Cynic doctrine of absence of wants as constituting
virtue and happiness. But Epicurus is far from re
nouncing pleasure. He is no ascetic. On the contrary,
EPICUREANISM 233
the repose of the Epicurean will be the greater in pro*
portion to the compass of his needs that are satisfied.
But he needs insight into any given situation to tell him
what positive pleasures should be encouraged. Epicuruf
thus distinguishes three kinds of wants and their attend*
ant positive pleasures : (1) wants natural and indispensa
ble — without the satisfaction of which we cannot exist ;
(2) wants artificial and dispensable, which ought always
to be disregarded ; (3)wants natural and dispensable —
the great mass of wants which lie between the two
other classes. Insight is necessary to decide about this
third class. In case of necessity they can be renounced,
but since they give happiness, the Wise Man will seek
to satisfy them as far as possible.
There are three steps leading to Epicurean happi
ness : (1) the desire or the pain of unsatisfied craving ;
(2) the positive pleasure that removes the pain of un
satisfied desire ; (3) ataraxia, the repose of the soul or
true happiness.
The Place of Virtue in Epicureanism. Epicurus
agreed with the strictest Greek moralists that virtue
and happiness go together. His opponents had to tes
tify to the beneficial effects of his teaching upon the
character of his disciples. Yet his conception of the
place of virtue in life is in direct conflict with Stoicism.
He felt that the Stoic conception of virtue for its own
sake is an ideal so imaginary that it lacks all incentive to
action. Pleasure, on the other hand, seemed to him to be
a concrete and real object. It can be given a definite con
tent. Virtue had for Epicurus a value only as a means
to happiness. Moreover, virtue by itself is not necessa
rily accompanied by happiness, but only when it is em
ployed as a condition to happiness. Thus wisdom may
234 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
be employed to gain the pleasure of liberation from
the fear of the gods ; self-control may be employed in
order to get the maximum of happiness.
The Epicurean Wise Man. To what classes of people
could this Epicurean ideal appeal ? Is it an ideal pos
sible only to the favorites of fortune, wealth, and rank ?
As presented by Epicurus it was not conditioned by ex-
kern al circumstances of any sort and its aim was to tran
scend all conditions. Nevertheless, it is obvious that
the theory was restricted to those who had the desire
to adopt it. On the whole, the unreflecting common
people of that time were not as a matter of fact influenced
by the Epicurean philosophy. The proof of this is the
ease with which it was degraded into a simple pleasure
theory without an ideaL Epicureanism as presented by
its author was not an excuse for the voluptuary or the
prodigal, although it was easily corrupted into that.
v It was, however, a philosophy of the individual. The
individual must rely upon his own common sense as
to what among the particular satisfactions will give
him independence of the world. Sometimes repose is
attained by the satisfaction of all wants ; sometimes the
satisfactions needed are few because the wants are few.
True pleasure is possible to all reflective souls. " When
you come," says Seneca, " to the gardens where the words
are inscribed : Friend, here it will be well for you to
abide ; here pleasure is the highest good ; — there will
meet you the keeper of the place, a hospitable kindly
man who will set before you a dish of barley porridge
and plenty of water and say, Have you not been well
entertained ? These gardens do not provoke hunger, but
quench it ; they do not cause a greater thirst by the drinks
they afford. ... In this pleasure I have grown old."
EPICUREANISM
235
Man can use much, but he does not need much. Even
life itself under extreme circumstances is not necessary.
The pleasures to be sought are the permanent and
gentle. In one place Epicurus says with a somewhat
forced sentiment that the Wise Man on the rack will
smile in the midst of torture and say, " How sweet ! '
The Wise Man accepts the established order and ac
commodates himself to it. He is not like the Stoic Wise
Man, indifferent to all pleasures, but he is nevertheless
independent of them. He is superior to the world, a king
and a god. Accidents cannot disturb him, for his vir
tuous happiness lies within himself. He cannot control
the world without, but he can control the world within
himself. He can be happy with few or many satisfac
tions, and he is master over the world if he is master of
the effects of the world upon himself. To rest unmoved
in one's inner self — that is the Epicurean ideal of the
Wise Man. In contrast to the Cyrenaic happiness, the
Epicurean happiness seems passive ; in contrast to the
Stoic happiness it is satisfaction.
The Epicurean Wise Man in Society. Nevertheless
the Wise Man is only a spectator of the world. He does
not enter the world's work nor does he enlist as a soldier
to fight its moral battles. His individual independence
gives a peculiar character to his social relations. He will
have no ties on account of their complications. Moreover,
his inner world offers him no compensation for his loss
of social relationship, except that the good within is
strong and the evil weak. He looks upon political gov
ernment as a matter of selfish convenience. He is op
posed to civic life, and therefore a supporter of absolute
government. He refuses the responsibility of marriage,
but accepts friendship as the only worthy social relation-
236 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
ship, and only because friendship is of mutual advan
tage. Friendship means intellectual intercourse, com
passion, and forgiveness. While there were many famous
Epicurean friendships, one must admit that the Epicu
rean took an unfair advantage of the state. His happiness
presupposed a highly developed civilization of. refined
tastes and noble sentiments. He is a parasite upon the
community and appropriates the labor of others. The
Epicurean ideal offers much to the individual, but no
thing to society as a means of spiritual productivity.
The Great Obstacles to Happiness. To universalize
pleasure, however paradoxical it may seem, is to set up
an individualism. It is to abandon all the claims of the
society of other beings upon us. The logic of any pleas
ure theory is anarchism. But Epicurus is no anarchist,
for anarchism would be too disturbing to repose. Epi
curus stopped far short of interfering with political con
ditions. His teaching did not have as its end a logical
theory, but a practical accomplishment. He therefore
accommodated his theory to the practical circumstances
of his time. He pointed out that in the seething times
of the third century B. C. the individual could be happy
if he banished from his world two obstacles. These
were religion and culture.
To Epicurus the sorrow in man's heart and the evil
in his practices are mainly due to religion. The chief
source of the wretchedness of the world is to be found
in the crushing fears of religious belief. Epicurus has
in mind the exaggerated ceremonies and mystical be
liefs of the Orient, where his mother had been a priest
ess. From this memory he was reacting. Keligion pol
lutes men's fancies, clouds the future with superstitious
fears, and puts repose and happiness beyond our reach.
EPICUREANISM 237
In the first place, religion carries with it the fear of
<• death. In modern times the idea of life after death i»
an added consolation. In the time of Epicurus death
meant the giving up of the present life for a dim, sun
less region of flitting shades bordering on the edge of
Tartarus. No philosophical mind can be happy, accord
ing to Epicurus, if it contains the religious conception
of death and the future life. Again, religion conceives
the world of nature as created and operated by the gods.
It is forever explaining nature-phenomena as miraculous
and supernatural. The tranquil mind must believe in a
nature world that is separated from miraculous inter
vention, and freed from oversight. The world must be a
dependable world. Lastly, religion conceives of the gods
as always busying themselves with the affairs of men.
Men must secure their favor and avert their wrath by
constant offerings. The religious man wastes his time
and consumes his peace in the fear that the gods are
not propitiated. The Epicurean seeks to build up the
life of the individual. He seeks a tranquillity that is in
dependent of everything. Religious belief with its inter
fering gods would thwart his ideal. Hence the chief
concern of the Epicurean was to banish from life every
conception of divine government. The gods exist, but
they live quite apart from men. Their dwelling is in in
ter-stellar space amid the numberless worlds. They have
nothing to do with the events of this world, but are
only glorified actualizations of the philosophic ideal of
soul-satisfying peace. The more the teleological concep
tion of nature became the common ground of the Acad
emy, the Lyceum, and the Porch, the more did the Epi
cureans isolate themselves by opposing the conception.
The other obstacle to the imperturbability of the soul
238 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
is culture. The Stoics subordinated theory to practice^
but Epicurus went so far as to deprecate all culture.
It was the philosophical protest of an Oriental against
all for which Greece had stood. All knowledge is su
perfluous which does not promote happiness. Know
ledge may indirectly promote happiness, and that is the
best you can say of it. Epicurus therefore despised the
researches of the grammarians, the lore of history, the
science of mathematics, the theory of music, poetry,
rhetoric, oratory, logic. Although he set greater store by
the intellectual than the physical pleasures, he placed as
little value on knowledge for its own sake as upon virtue
for its own sake. This teaching of Epicurus in Athens
betrays the change that had come over Athenian society.
Plato, who had been the impersonation of Athenian cul
ture, had been dead not more than thirty years.
Epicurus' Conception of the Physical World. —
Qualified Atomism. To the cursory reader the science
of physics seems to occupy a large place in the philosophy
of Epicurus, and its presence appears inconsistent with
his polemic against culture. Upon further reading one
finds that physics, too, should be merely a servant of the
happiness of the individual. We need knowledge of
physics because the knowledge of natural causes will
free us from the fears attending religion. Physics has
no independent importance.
Epicurus undertook to support his doctrine of indi
vidualism by the scientific theory of Democritus. The
materialistic theory of the great Abderite seems to
loom large in the exposition of Epicurus. But Epicurus
was not interested in the science of physics — not even
in the physics of Democritus. He did not build his
theory on the teaching of Democritus, but on the con-
EPICUREANISM 23*
trary he used the Democritan doctrine to support his
theory of moral conduct. Epicurus needed a well-au
thenticated theory. On account of the influence of Lu
cretius' poem, Epicurus has been called in modern times
the scientist of antiquity. But his only contribution to
science was that, finding the atomism of Democritus
ready at hand although unpopular, he made it popular
by adjusting it to his own purposes.
The Democritan conception that Being is matter
consisting of innumerable uncreated and indestructible
atoms furnished Epicurus this support for his moral
atomism. He followed Democritus in his analysis of
psychological, physiological, and astronomical phenom
ena — all are atoms in combinations. But he lacked
scientific insight and the Democritan doctrine was
emasculated in his hands. The central and fundamental
principle of Democritus' theory was the universal reign
of law. This the Stoics adopted and this Epicurus
neglected. Epicurus was impressed by the changes of
the atoms in the Democritan theory ; the Stoics by the
law of such change.
This appears in the teaching of Epicurus in two
ways. The first example is in his explanation of the
origin of the cosmos. Democritus had conceived that
irregular motion was an inherent quality of the atoms
and that the universe was produced by their combina
tions in a purely mechanical way. Epicurus conceived
that the original movement of the atoms was in a
straight line from above downwards. This he called the
"rain of atoms." To explain their intermingling he
conceived them to be endowed with volition by which
they arbitrarily deviated from the direct fall. Secondly,
this physical theory of Epicurus would be unimportant
240 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
except that it afforded him a basis for his theory of the
individual as possessing free will. The doctrine of free
dom of the will had been since Aristotle a presupposi
tion indispensable to the doctrine of moral accounta
bility among the Greeks. The Stoic doctrine of fate
is an exception. But determinism was opposed to Epi
curus' conception of the Wise Man as an independent
individual. The human will is self-determined, and Epi
curus even said that he preferred the illusions of re
ligion to a belief in our slavery to fate. He classed
freedom and chance together as uncaused occurrence,
and out of the combination built his conception of free
dom. The uncaused functioning of the will in man is
the same as the causeless deviation of the atoms. Free
dom is the choice between different possibilities and is
determined by no cause. The Stoics alone among the
philosophers of this time are the forerunners of the
study of physics.
Epicurus introduced the conception of volition of
the atoms to account for the origin of the cosmos.
From that point he conceived the world to develop IR
a mechanical way. Teleology in the nature world was
repugnant to him. By modifying the Democritan phys
ics, he thus succeeded in establishing the independence
of the individual in the social world and, on the other
hand, removing the gods from interfering in the physical
world. This seemed to Epicurus to afford an absolute
deliverance from superstition. The important points of
the physical theory of Epicurus are these : (1) the
freedom of the atoms in motion ; (2) and yet their me
chanical development ; (3) the atomic character of the
gods ; (4) the scattering of the atoms of the soul at
death, which frees us from the fear of Hades.
CHAPTER XI
STOICISM
The Position of Stoicism in Antiquity. The Stoic
School had a long history, and for five hundred years
it was well-nigh the dominating system of thought. Its
importance is shown in the attacks on all sides by
which it was honored. It was subjected to a continued
critical testing by the Peripatetics, Epicureans, Skep
tics, and the Academy. It was without doubt the most
comprehensive School of the Hellenic-Roman Period,
and numbered as its adherents the most brilliant per
sonalities of the time. In its importance to history its
only rival was neo-Platonism, which came after it. Stoi
cism accomplished much toward solving the problem
of life, for it is one of the great inner, spiritual move
ments of humanity. It was a system of philosophy raised
upon the ruins of polytheism — a religion for the edu
cated classes, who tried to harmonize the old religion
with the new philosophic needs. In the early Christian
centuries it led the moral reform by reviving the classic
ideals. It became a retreat into the invisible order, a
solace amid unrest. Particularly at that time the Stoic
felt the emptiness of human life, for his possession of
eternity made earthly existence seem as nothing. Yet
it was a movement of subjective reflection and indi
vidual motive ; but as such it could not prove itself ade
quate when the structure of Roman society broke down.
But we must not take the Roman Stoics as the repre
sentatives of the sect. The Stoics stood for more than
242 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
moral reflection. The great achievement came from the
first three leaders — the achievement of giving a scien
tific basis to morals. The Stoics made ethics an inde
pendent science. Such an elaborate system of morals
as that of the Stoics had never before existed. Stoi
cism was morality with a theoretical foundation, and the
foundation was the most imposing part of the edifice.
This appeared in Roman jurisprudence, and in later
times in Grotius, Descartes, Spinoza, the Calvinists and
Puritans, and in Kant and Fichte. The writings of the
individual Stoics have become a part of the world's
literature, and the Stoic view of life has maintained
itself as a dignified and independent type.
The Three Periods of Stoicism. The five hundred
years of the history of the Stoic School are usually di
vided into three periods. The first is about 90 years
long, in which the doctrine was formulated ; the second
is 200 years long, when the doctrine was modified ; the
third was 200 years long, when it became a popular
moral philosophy. The first two periods were theoretical,
the third was practical.
1. Period of Formulation of the Doctrine (294 B. c.
-206 B. c.), sometimes called the period of Cynical
Stoicism. This period contains the three great leaders :
Zeno (340-265 B. c.), Clean thes, leader of the School
from 264 to 232 B. c., and Chrysippus (280-206 B. c.).
Zeno of Tarsus, Diogenes of Seleucia, and Antipater of
Tarsus were other important representatives.
2. Period of Modified Stoicism (206 B.c.-l A.D.).
This was the period of transition. This period shows a
modification of the original severe Cynical character
of the doctrine and also the spread of Stoicism to Rome.
This modification shows an approach to Plato and Aris-
STOICISM 243
totle. The most important representative of this period
is Panaetius (180-110 B. C.), who introduced the doctrine
into Rome through his friendship with Scipio Africanus.
Other eminent Stoics of this period were Posidonius and
Boethus of Sidon.
3. Period of Roman Stoicism (1-200 A. D.). During
this period Stoicism became a popular moral philosophy.
The theoretic teachings of the first two periods were
successfully translated by the Roman Stoics in an im
pressive way into practical observations. Furthermore,
Stoicism was being inspired with the rising religious
feeling so that it expressed the noblest moral sentiments
of antiquity. The chief representatives were Seneca
(4-65 A. D.), Epictetus (living 90 A. D.) the philo
sophic slave, and the emperor Marcus Aurelius (121—
180 A. D.). Other Stoics of this period were L. Annaeus
Cornutus, M. Annaaus Lucanus, Persius, and M. Muso-
nius Rufus.
The Stoic Leaders. One of the striking features of
the Stoic School is that its leaders were not pure
Greeks. Nearly all the members before the Christian
era belong by birth to the mixed races of Asia Minor
and the eastern archipelago. Moreover, the later Stoics
were mainly Romans, led by the Phrygian, Epictetus.
The Stoics who were Greeks were third or fourth rate
men. The Stoic School contained so many eminent
thinkers that its doctrine was not framed once and for
all, like the Epicurean doctrine. During the five hun
dred years from Zeno to Marcus Aurelius, theoretic
changes went on within the School, and the changes
were rather modifications than development. Funda
mentally, Stoicism remained the same, for it was a re
ligious attitude of mind.
244 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
Athens was the abiding-place of the Stoic School,
but Athens of that day had little to say to it except to
receive it. The great Stoic leaders, the first three
Stoics, like the three tragic poets, formed a group that
is rarely equaled. They were Zeno, Cleanthes, and
Chrysippus. Zeno and Chrysippus came from Cyprus,
and Cleanthes came from Assos, not far from Troy.
Cyprus, Lycia, and Pisidia showed a strong inclination
for the Stoic teaching. Tarsus, which is in Cilicia, had a
strong Stoic School, and its influence on the training of
St. Paul is seen in his theology.
The founding of the Stoic School was the result of
the experiences of Zeno of Citium. Having lost much
of his wealth in commerce, he turned to philosophy at
Athens. Impressed with the character of Socrates, he
attached himself successively to the Cynic, Megarian,
and Platonic Schools, but without much satisfaction.
He made himself master of the teachings of these
Schools, and then founded a School of his own. It is
said that when he asked for admittance to the Acad
emy, Polemo, the leader, replied, " I am no stranger to
your Phoenician art, Zeno. I perceive your design is to
creep slyly into my garden and steal away my fruit." In
294 B. c. he began to teach in the Painted Porch (see
map, p. 219), a painted colonnade in the Athenian mar
ket-place. The School thereafter went by the name of
Stoa, or the Porch. His contemporary antagonists were
Arcesilaus in the Academy, and Epicurus. Zeno's re
putation throughout Greece was very high and well
deserved. He was a parsimonious man, simple and
rude spoken. He used a bad dialect, foreign words,
and taught a strange doctrine. He suffered a slight
wound and, taking it as a hint of destiny, committed
STOICISM 245
suicide, saying, " I am coming, Earth, why do you call
me?"
Stoicism did not flourish under Cleanthes (who was
leader of the School for thirty-two years), although
to-day he is the best known of these three leaders on
account of his Hymn to Zeus. He was originally
a pugilist, and was so poor that he had to work as a
water-carrier by night in order to attend the lectures
of Zeno by day. He is said to have had a heavy mind,
but it was nevertheless the mind of an inspired prophet
and a thoughtful man of science. When Cleanthes re
ceived the Stoic doctrines from Zeno, they were still
plastic. He made them monistic and pantheistic, and
introduced the doctrine of " tension."
Under Chrysippus (280-206 B. c.) Stoicism was re
vived and he saved it from extinction. Chrysippus was
the systematizer of the School and its literary repre
sentative. He wrote five hundred and five separate
treatises, three hundred of which were on logical sub
jects. He is said to have seldom let a day pass without
writing five hundred lines. He was the moderating in
fluence of the School, mediating between extremes and
removing objections. He restated Zeno's doctrines, but
his discourses abound in curious subtleties rather than
argument. He was a much more scholarly man than his
predecessors, and passed for the most learned man in
antiquity. " Give me doctrines," he said to Cleanthes,
" and I will find arguments for them." His haughti
ness created many adversaries, both in the Academy
and among the Epicureans, and he had great contempt
for men of rank. He said, " If I thought any philoso
pher excelled me, I would myself become his pupil." It
was a common saying in those days, " No Chrysippus,
246 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
no Stoa." In the hands of Chrysippus the Stoic teach
ing became a well-rounded system.
The Stoic Writings. Nearly all the writings of the
early Stoics have been lost. Only fragments have been
preserved from the writings of other men like Cicero,
Plutarch, Sextus Empiricus, and Diogenes Laertius,
and these men do not always distinguish between early
and later Stoicism. The principal source of our know
ledge of early Stoicism is Diogenes Laertius. The
Hymn to Zeus of Cleanthes is the most noteworthy
fragment extant of the early period. Of the later Stoics
of the Empire many writings have been saved : the
ethical treatises and epistles of Seneca, the Diatribes
and Encheiridion of Epictetus, and the Medita
tions of Marcus Aurelius. The later Stoic writings
transmit the teaching of the earlier leaders modified by
many foreign influences. Such second-hand authorities
as Cicero, Plutarch, Diogenes Laertius and Sextus
Empiricus, and the Aristotelian commentators give re
ports so vitiated that it is doubtful if they report any
element belonging to the earlier teaching. The doctrine
of the Stoics, since the time of Chrysippus, however, is
known beyond peradventure.
The Stoics and Cynics. The Stoics tried to build
up the life of the soul after the pattern of the vir
tuous Wise Man, whose outlines they borrowed from
the transfigured and lofty form of Socrates. (Noack.)
Their teaching is not merely a refinement and ad
vance over the Cynic School as Epicureanism had been
to the Cyrenaic School. Stoicism and Epicureanism
used their sources in different ways. The Stoic would
give up more than the Epicurean, and the negative side
of his teaching is therefore greater ; but in recompense
STOICISM 247
he offers more in the shape of a comprehensive meta
physics. The Cyrenaic doctrine of pleasure became the
corner stone of Epicureanism. The Cynic sensualistic
rigorism became in the Stoic teaching a negative and
relatively unimportant doctrine. While the Stoic dis
tinction of virtue was not unproductive, the most in
fluential aspect of Stoicism was its dissemination of
humane culture. Thus, in contrast with the Cynics, the
Stoics had a deep interest in scientific theory. The
Stoic, less than the Cynic, contrasted the individ
ual with the world. The Stoics have a more intelligent,
freer, and milder morality. To the Cynics, external
things have no value ; to the Stoics, they have both a
positive and a negative value. Beneath these differences
there is the same self-sufficiency in virtue, the same
withdrawal within, the same moral strength of will, the
same antithesis between good and evil. Stoicism was
original, but not enough so to mark the beginning of a
new epoch.
The Two Prominent Stoic Conceptions. There are
two Stoic conceptions that rise prominently above all
the rest of their teaching. One is the conception of per
sonality, the other is the conception of Nature. Epicure
anism built up the conception of personality, but it had
no need of an objective principle of Nature ; and in
deed the Epicurean conception of personality seems to
be only a clever adjustment and an avoidance of the
problems of life, compared to the clear-cut, heroic, and
vigorous Stoic conception of personality. Thus in Epi
cureanism there is one prominent conception, in Stoicism
there are two.
These two Stoic principles stand side by side. The
Stoic builds them up together, even though he fails to
248 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
make them entirely compatible. All the essential diffi
culties and all the excellencies of Stoicism lie in the
juxtaposition of the conceptions of personality and Na
ture. In early Stoicism each conception is stated with
great vigor. In later Stoicism their harmony is approx
imated by the modification of each. The result was an
ethical dualism and a metaphysical monism.
The Conception of Personality. Against Epicurean
ism the Stoic fought for the dignity of the soul. The
ideal personality of the Wise Man is the central point
in Stoicism. Even more than Aristotle did the Stoic
emphasize the unity and independence of the individual
soul as contrasted to its particular states. For the first
time in European thought does the soul become an in
dependent factor to be reckoned with. The Stoic picture
of the ideal personality is of a life completely sundered
from outward conditions, free from earthly trammels,
but at the same time the organ of universal law. Con
temporaries asked the Stoics, How can such an ideal
be a person ? How can he live among his fellow men ?
How can he reconcile himself to human want ? After
setting forth this ideal during the 175 years of their
first period, it is not strange that they were finally forced
to modify it in response to practical demands. At this
point we shall consider the original portrayal of the
Wise Man.
i. The Stoic Psychology. The Stoic built his con
ception of personality upon a deep psychological analy
sis. The soul in the body is like the pneuma in the
world (see p. 255). Not only does the soul transform the
excitations of the several sense organs into perceptions,
but its distinguishing faculty is its power of trans
forming the excitations of the feelings into acts of will.
STOICISM 249
This was called by the Stoics the assent of the reason,
and is the distinguishing feature of the Stoic concep
tion of personality. It established for the first time
in history the independence of the personal soul. The
Stoic felt keenly the antagonism between the reason
and the senses, and he also felt that by estimating the
senses as merely relative in value they would so much
the more dignify the reason as the fundamental feature
of the personality. While, therefore, all knowledge
comes from the senses, the Stoic maintained that no
knowledge exists in the senses by themselves. The
assent of the reason is necessary to transform the sen
sations into true knowledge. The reason is not an aggre
gate of sensations, but an independent function of the
personality. It transforms the sensations into percep
tions, the perceptions into acts of will. The reason is
therefore a kind of generating power of consciousness
and is free from everything external. But in contrast
to this free rational side is the irrational nature of man ;
for the reason is liable to suffer failure, when it allows
itself to be hurried along to give assent to exciting
causes. Then emotions arise, and emotions are failures,
mental disturbances, and in chronic cases diseases. Man
is not always able to defend himself against the excita
tions of his environment, but he can refuse to give the
excitations his assent. He can refuse to allow the ex
citations to become emotions and to pour forth his life
in passion. Man may be in the world and not of it.
He may govern the world by controlling himself. The
Wise Man is free from the emotions, and virtue consists
in their absence. The virtuous man is self-sufficient in
the proud consciousness that he can look upon pleasure
as not a good and pain as not an evil.
250 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
What guide does the reason have in granting or re
fusing its assent to its perceptions from without ? What
is the criterion of the truth? The clearness of the per
ception — the clearness in the sense that the presenta
tion lays hold of the mind and extorts its assent. The
truth is the "irresistible presentation" or the " appre
hending presentation." Who can know the truth ? The
Wise Man. By what means ? By sensation and pre
conception. By what sign ? By the sign of its irresistible
power. The Wise Man is perfectly free and perfectly
necessitated — he never gives assent except to what
constrains assent.
2. The Highest Good. What is then the Highest
Good or happiness for such a personality ? After such
an analysis, what would the Stoic be likely to conceive
to be the true ends of life ? The very nature of the per
sonality gives the answer. Personality is fundamentally
rational activity which seeks to preserve itself and to
gratify its own nature. The Highest Good is the law
of its own rationality, and virtue consists in being
rational. In reaching for the Highest Good man can
transcend his particular faculties in his free obedience
to his own reason ; and the wholeness of his existence
depends upon the wholeness of his deed. Thus is the
inner activity whole, in contrast to the partial outer
activities. Inwardness attains complete independence
and finds the depth of the soul. We are free and we
are happy if the whole being goes out in contemplation
of the world reason which is our reason, and if all the
feelings that make us dependent on the world are ex
cluded. Since the emotions place a false value on things,
happiness demands a whole effort and ceaseless activity.
We must not merely theorize, but thought must become
STOICISM 251
conduct. Thought-action yields happiness. It does not
matter whether man acts with reference to this or that,
for external objects are neither good nor bad. The whole
question is whether the reason controls the passions
or not. If the reason controls, the end is good ; if the
passions control, the end is evil ; all other ends are in
different. The reason either does or does not rule, and
an act is either good or not. Good is not relative, but
absolute ; and such relative matters as wealth, honor, and
riches are matters of indifference. Even life itself is
one of the indifferent things and may be taken when it
does not serve the ends of reason. The Highest Good
is that inner unity — that disposition — which is gov
erned by a single principle.
The Stoic word for this ideal Good is apathy, just as
the Epicurean word was ataraxy or imperturbability.
Positively defined, it is virtue. Negatively defined, can
we say it was passionlessness? This would not be quite
correct. By apathy the Stoic means not absence of all
feeling, but absence of control by the feelings. The
Stoic was filled with joy, gratitude, serene confidence,
and unwavering submission in regard to rational law.
Apathy is not dull insensibility, but immovable firmness.
It is absence of the emotions that render the man de
pendent on the world, but it is not absence of the reach
ing out of the soul for the divine. The Highest Good
or Apathy is (1) intellectual resignation to the uni
verse, (2) practical inner harmony, and (3) self-con
trol. In seeking to be rational, man is following an
impulse, — the impulse of self-preservation.
The Conception of Nature. In comparison with the
Epicurean the position of the Stoic was peculiarly in
volved. The ideal imperturbability of the Epicurean was
252 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
simple in so far that it required nothing beyond itself.
It was an individual matter and varied with the individ
ual. But the Stoic ideal personality is based upon the
reason, that is eternally one and the same. What is this
absolute principle that gives to the human reason its
absoluteness ? What is the extent of the law of the rea
son that the human reason itself implies? Thus the
Stoic needed to supplement his conception of personal
ity and the Epicurean did not. Because his individualism
was more rigorous, it needed the more to be supported.
The Stoic principle of morality had to have its founda
tion in the absolute nature of things. This foundation
could not be the politico-moral principle of Greek
national life, for that existed no longer. It could not
be a transcendent, supersensuous, or incorporeal prin
ciple, for his Cynic inheritance would forbid his look
ing beyond experience. The supplementary absolute
principle of the Stoics must be an immanent prin
ciple, a living power in the world. A pantheistic con
ception of Nature took its place side by side with the
Stoic conception of personality, and this conception of
Nature became the central point of the Stoic meta
physics. For this the Stoics adopted the Logos doctrine
of Heracleitus, which will be recalled as the doctrine of
primal matter as rational, just, and fateful changing-
ness. The Stoics were reinforced in this by Aristotle's
teleological philosophy of nature. Yet they tried to over*
come the dualism of matter and Form as it existed in
Aristotle's teaching, and one feels that the Stoic pan
theism was a conscious and avowed pantheism. The
Stoic conception of Nature is that of a unitary, ra
tional, and living whole, having no parts, but only de
terminate forms. Yet it cannot be called a hylozoism,
STOICISM 253
like the doctrine of Heracleitus, for there Form and
matter had not been distinguished. In the interven
ing years Form and matter had been separated, and
the Stoic sought to put them together again. In com
parison with the doctrine of the Old Schools, the Stoic
teaching was (1) monistic, as against their dualism,
(2) materialistic, as against their idealism, but (3) like
them, it was teleological.
1. In the first place, Nature is an all-pervading
World- Be ing. It is God, u in whom we live and move
and have our being." It contains in itself all cosmic
phenomena, and processes, past, present, and future. It
is the World-ground and the World-mind, and yet it is
all-in-all. It is the productive and formative power,
the vitalizing principle. In general, it is the creative
and guiding reason ; in particular, it is Providence or
divine government. It is the unswerving whole in
which the single events of history take place. To the
Stoics the cosmic Reason was so apparent in Nature
that purpose appeared to them in everything. In their
hands the great teleological conception of Aristotle's
immanent purposiveness sank to the petty purposive-
ness for human beings and for the gods. Yet it is no
wonder that this conception of an all-pervasive deity
became a religion to the Stoics and raised their moral
code to the region of the sublime. The world is Fate
so far as the minutest movements are determined.
Nature is Providence so far as those determinations
are full of purpose. Nature is in every part perfect and
without blemish.
2. In the second place, Nature is an all-compelling
law. Nature is an inviolable necessity, an inevitable
destiny, that holds all phenomena in complete causal
254 HISTOKY OF PHILOSOPHY
connection. Yet this destiny only proves the complete
purpose of the whole. The Stoic seized upon the cen
tral principle of Democritus, — which the Epicureans
had overlooked, — the supremacy of law. " The doctrine
of Democritus passed over to the Epicureans only so
far as it was atomism and mechanism ; with regard to
the deeper and more valuable principle of the universal
reign of law in Nature, his legacy passed to the Stoics." l
There is no such thing as chance ; everything is caused.
In Epicureanism one finds the doctrine of necessity, but
the necessity comes from the atoms themselves. In
I Stoicism the necessity resides in the living activity of
I the whole. A living activity ! Herein the Stoic concep
tion differs from the Democritan teaching. The necessity
is a living necessity, the destiny a living destiny.
3. In the third place, Nature, is matter. On the the
oretical side Stoicism agrees with Epicureanism only at
one point, — both were materialistic. The materialism
of both these New Schools got a disproportionate pro
minence because it had to be defended against the at
tacks of the Academy and the Lyceum. The material
ism of the Epicureans was a mere adoption of a theory ;
the materialism of the Stoics was only one aspect of its
supplementary basis. Nevertheless, to the Stoic matter
alone is real, because it alone acts and is acted upon.
Everything is matter, — nature-objects, God and the
soul, and even the qualities, forces, and relations between
material bodies. The Stoics regarded the presence and
interchange of the qualities of things as the appearance
and intermingling of bodies in these things.
There can be no doubt about the materialism of the
Stoic teaching, although both material and spiritual
i Windelband, Hist, of Phil., p> 183.
STOICISM 255
attributes are ascribed to God in a way that is start
ling. The Heracleitan conception of fire as the primary
substance is the Stoic conception of God. God is fire>
air, ether, and most commonly the atmospheric currents
which pervade all things. But God is also the World-
soul, the World-mind, the Cosmic-reason, the universal
Law, Nature, Destiny, Providence. He is a perfect,
happy, and kind Being. In single statements these as
pects are often combined and God is described as the
Fiery Reason of the world, the Mind in matter, the
reasonable Air-currents. The Stoic equation is Nature =
Matter = Fire = Reason = Fate = Providence = God.
The Stoics followed Heracleitus also in their concep
tion of the development of the present world from the
cosmic fire. " In all points of detail their views on what
we call physical science are contemptible. They con
tained not one iota of scientific thinking." 1 They fol
lowed Aristotle, however, in their description of the
elements and their teleological arrangements.
The primitive substance changes by its own inner
rational law into force and matter. Force is the World-
soul, the pneuma or warm breath, which pervades all
things. Matter is the World-body, and is water and
earth. In cosmic periods the primitive fire is destined
to re-absorb the world of variety into itself and then
consume it in a universal catastrophe.
The most important feature in the Stoic materialism
is the conception of pneuma, or the force into which the
original substance is differentiated. This is the World-
soul. Nature is thus conceived as dynamical. The Stoic
word for the World-soul is translated by various ex
pressions, as " creative reason," " generative powers,"
1 Adarason, The Development of Greek Philosophy, p. 267.
256 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44 formative fire-mind." It penetrates all things and dom
inates all as their active principle. Through it the uni
verse is one, not a plurality of parts. The pneuma is the
life of the universe. Its motion is spontaneous ; its devel
opment is teleological. The pneuma is an extraordinarily
condensed conception, containing as it does suggestions
from Heracleitus' Logos, Anaxagoras' Nous, Democri-
tus' fire-atoms, and Aristotle's Energeia.
The human being has a constitution analogous to the
universe. Man is the microcosm and the universe the
| macrocosm. The soul of man is the pneuma which
' holds his body together, and it is an emanation from the
. divine pneuma. Mental states — thought and emotions
i — are air currents. Virtue is the tension of the atmos
pheric substance of the soul. The material, yet divine,
pneuma constitutes man's reason, causes his activities,
is seated in his breast. Since the pneuma is a body, it
disconnects itself from the human corpse at death, has
a limited immortality, and returns to the cosmic pneuma
at the conflagration of the world.
The Conceptions of Nature and Personality supple
ment each other. Thus fundamentally the personality
is identical with the cosmos — it is reason. To turn the
matter about, by reason or " nature " the Stoic means
two things that are essentially one. He means the rea
son of man, or the reason of the world ; to " live ac
cording to nature " is to live according to the nature of
man or according to the nature of the world. The life
of the Wise Man as a harmony with physical nature
is a harmony with itself as well. The antithesis to
" nature " or " reason " is sensuous nature. What we
speak of as the natural impulses were not " natural "
at all in the Stoic teaching.
STOICISM 207
" Nature " as universal is the creative cosmic power
acting for ends. Coordination with this constitutes mo
rality. It is a willing obedience to eternal necessity.
The " fool " acts according to his sensations and im
pulses, and therefore against " nature." But the Wise
Man, by withdrawing within himself, is his own inde
pendent master because he is acting universally. " Na
ture " is the life-unity of the human soul with the
world reason. True individual morality is therefore
universal morality, complete humanity, universal ra
tionality. To obey " nature " is to develop the essential
germ in one's self.
Thus these two points of view were obtained of
life-unity: a universe rationally guiding in all its
changes ; the human individual epitomizing this uni
verse in himself as a rule for his conduct amid his
vicissitudes.
The Stoic and Society. Men are divided into two
classes, — the entirely wise and virtuous, or the entirely
foolish and vicious. There is no middle ground. If a
man possesses a sound reason, he has all the virtues ; if
he lacks this reason, he lacks all. There are only a few
Sages ; the mass of men are fools. The Stoics were
continually lamenting with Pharisaical pessimism the
great baseness of men. From their sublime height they
looked upon the Wise Man as incapable of sin, upon
the fool as incapable of virtue. In thus denying the
ordinary distinctions between good and evil, they were
dangerous in politics. Their political perspective was
not reliable. In general, they did not enter the politics
of the democracies where they lived. They were, how
ever, often the advisers of tyrants, and often assisted in
removing them (as in the case of Julius Cresar). The
258 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
Stoic School of Musonius Rufus made a splendid Puri
tan protest against Nero and Domitian, and finally his
disciples and friends controlled the empire for a cen«
tury (second century A. D.).1 The Stoic regarded his
Wise Man as attaining the same independence that the
Epicurean claimed for his Wise Man. He is lord and
king. He is inferior to no other rational being, not even
to Zeus himself.
The Stoic differs from the Epicurean in his attitude
toward the political state. The two Schools agree that
the sufficient Wise Man needs the state but little. The
Epicurean teaches that society is not natural and not
inherent in human nature. The Stoic, however, main
tained that society is a divine institution, which gives
way only occasionally to man's individual perfecting.
Since man and the cosmic reason are identical, all men
are essentially identical. When men therefore lead a
life of reason, they lead a social life. This realm of rea
son includes not Romans alone, but all men, gods, and
slaves. But the political government is only secondary,
for the Stoic's ideal is a universal empire. The Stoic's
interest in practical politics was as weak as his ideal
of a rational society was transcendent. His teaching of
justice and love for man was, however, a forecasting
of the coming religious emancipation.
There are two antagonistic tendencies running
through Stoicism. The first is to seek society with
its virtues, — justice, love of men, sociability or cos
mopolitanism. The second dispenses with society to
gain an inner freedom. Yet these two tendencies often
coincide.
They may be presented as follows : —
1 Professor C. P. Parker.
STOICISM 259
To seek society. To dispense with society.
1. Exaltation of justice Exaltation of inner freedom
and love. and happiness.
2. World citizenship. The Wise Man.
3. Relations and degrees Absolute virtue and abso-
of virtue. lute vice.
4. Virtue depends some- Knowledge alone is virtue,
what on conditions.
5. Individual should sub- Individual should make fate,
mit to fate.
Duty and Responsibility. The Stoic's identity or
human and cosmic reason elevated the law of human
conduct into a strict, universal law of duty. It em
bodies, on the one hand, the Cynic's protest against
external law, and on the other the construction of the
inner moral law. The backbone of Stoicism is sense of
responsibility. The Stoics brought out as never before
the contrast between what is and what ought to be.
They were the most outspoken doctrinaires of antiquity,
and formed a school of character building in stubborn
ness. As time went on they substituted human nature
for cosmic nature, and then accentuated human nature
as conscience. The individual could then define the
right for himself, and this sort of individualism was de
veloped with so much skill that it admitted great laxity
of morals. Duty commands some things and forbids
others, but there are left a great mass of activities that
are ethically indifferent. These indifferent matters
offered opportunity for these men of conscience to per
form what in the eyes of others were crimes (for ex
ample, Brutus). Baseness is only what is uncondition
ally forbidden.
Yet it must not be supposed that the Stoics generally
260 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
employed the indifferent as an excuse for moral license.
On the contrary, the concept of life as a struggle origi
nated with the Stoics, and from them it passed into the
common consciousness of man. There was before them
(1) the struggle with environment dominated by a
false evaluation, (2) the struggle with effete civilization,
(3) the struggle particularly with one's self. The Stoic
hero of inner courage and greatness of soul rises above
his fellows, not because he gains dominion over the
world, but because in indifference to it he isolates him
self. He exists in premeditation of doing rather than
in the actual doing in which his power would be spent.
Still, in the absolute contrast between the good and the
evil, in making life a disjunctive, an " Either — Or,"
duty got a definite and distinct meaning. Duty, accord
ing to the Stoics' conception, had not so much the nature
of an imperative as of what is suitable, — an act adapted
to nature, a consistent and justifiable act. In a manner
unknown to antiquity the ethical nature of conduct was
thus universalized in the new conceptions of philan
thropy, of the universality of God and man, in the ten
dency to suppress slavery and care for the poor and
sick. Nevertheless, as a moral force Stoicism accepted
the world as it found the world, and did not attempt to
make it over.
The Problem of Evil and the Problem of Freedom.
On the questions of moral freedom and evil, the Stoics
suffered severe attacks from the Academy and the Epi
cureans. Alone among the Schools of antiquity the
Stoics preached the doctrine of Fate. The demands of
ethical responsibility, however, required that the indi
vidual should determine his own conduct. To suit these
demands the Stoic did not modify his fundamental
STOICISM 2G1
conception of Nature, but he tried to justify his position
on the ground that the individual expressed the law of
nature. His argument may be stated thus : Man is like
God ; Man is one with God ; Man is free. It was also
stated on psychological grounds. Man can have one of
two attitudes toward the world-law : (1) his perform
ance may be through blind compulsion ; (2) his per
formance may be through an intelligent understanding
of the law, in which case he is free. The occurrence of
his act is fateful, but it makes great difference to the
man whether the occurrence is in spite of him or with
his intelligent acquiescence. The occurrence is not an
evil in itself ; for physical evils are no evils, and things
that appear to be moral evils are (1) subservient to the
good ; (2) merely relative to good ; or (3) show that
God's ways are not our ways. My will is mine though
necessary ; my will is mine though it be law. The soul
is free when it fulfills its own destiny. God works
through man's will. Outer circumstances are only ac
cessory causes, but the main cause is the assent of the
will. At the same time the Stoics did not shrink from
the logic of their own fatalism. Chrysippus said that
only on the basis of determinism could correct judg
ments of the future be made. Only on this ground
could the gods foreknow. Only the necessary can be
known.
The Modifications of the Stoic Doctrine after the
First Period. The inherent difficulties in the Stoic doc
trine and the attacks upon it gave rise to later conces
sion that only further complicated it. (1) The moral
ideal was lowered to make a set of rules for the medi
ocre man, and thereby the Stoics became the originators
of the dangerous doctrine of a twofold morals.
262 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
(2) By admitting any supposition instead of strict
scientific deduction into their theory they introduced
probabilism. An absolute personality ! An absolute
Nature! In order to make either practical the Stoics
had to modify both. In the course of time, when new
leaders represented the School, there came compromises
according to practical exigencies. The teaching of the
Wise Man was superseded by instruction how to be
come wise. The moral idealism was not renounced but
the idea of progress was introduced.
(3) The doctrine of Goods was modified. From out
the Goods, esteemed as indifferent, there appear Goods
as desirable. Yet these were never thought to be Goods
in themselves, but were only adapted to further the
Good in itself. Such were, for example, the physical
Good of health, enjoyment of the senses, etc. On the
side of its ideals Stoicism thus was brought into touch
wfth practical life.
(4) A distinction was made concerning those who
were not Wise Men. It was recognized that all " fools "
are not the same distance from virtue. There are then
recognized progressive men, — men who are improving.
Apathy is thus modified by a state of progress. Even
the Wise Man has in common with others the affections
of his senses, such as pain. The Stoic ethical aristocracy
became more humane. Nevertheless, the Stoic never
yielded this point, viz., that there is no gradual growth
in virtue. Virtue is not attained through a transition.
It is a sudden turning about.
(5) During the empire Stoicism became merely a
moral philosophy, but even in this form it was an
impressive presentation of the noblest convictions of
antiquity. It prepared moral feeling for Christianity.
STOICISM 263
The more Stoicism became mere moralizing, the more
the Cynic element in it dominated it. In the first and
second centuries Cynicism was revived by wandering,
garbed preachers, who went about affecting beggary
and teaching morals.
CHAPTER XII
SKEPTICISM AND ECLECTICISM
The Appearances of Philosophic Skepticism. We
have now traced the history of the positive and dogmatic
aspect of the Hellenic-Roman Period through its Ethi
cal Division and far into the Religious Division of the
Period. The influence of the ethical movement did not
disappear until at least two centuries after the begin
ning of this era, and the Schools themselves did not
disappear until they were abolished by Justinian in
529 A. D. But the Ethical Period may be said to close
at the beginning of this era, and even a century and a
half before that — about 150 B. c. — its positive and
dogmatic character had been lost. Eclecticism appeared
in the Schools, and the last one hundred and fifty years
of the Ethical Period was in character transitional and
eclectic. This was caused by the growth and power of
Skepticism, which we have already pointed out as the
undercurrent of the entire period. Skepticism was the
fundamental frame of mind of the eight hundred years
of this time. It was the negative side of the period in
contrast with the Schools. Philosophic Skepticism ap
peared contemporaneously with the rise of the New
Schools at the very beginning of the Period, and the con
troversy between the Schools and Skepticism reached
its height about 150 B. c. What was the result? Did
philosophy turn, as in the Age of Pericles, back to
greater triumphs in speculation ? No ; the world was no
longer virile and no longer possessed the creative im-
SKEPTICISM AND ECLECTICISM 265
pulse. On account of the attacks of Skepticism upon
the Schools, philosophy dissolved itself first into eclecti
cism, and then later by the introduction of new elements
from the East was superseded by religion. In the philo
sophical sense, religion and eclecticism are both skepti
cal — both have doubts of the ability of the reason to
reach truth. Eclecticism shows its Skepticism by doubt
ing any one dogmatic scheme, and therefore it constructs
a compromise of all ; religion crowns faith in place of
reason.
Philosophic Skepticism in these times did not appear
except with reference to the doctrines of the Schools.
It arose as merely polemical and antagonistic to the
Schools' teaching. While the Skepticism of antiquity
busied itself with the problem of knowledge, it was
superficial compared with modern Skepticism. Ancient
Skepticism did not doubt that the object of knowledge
existed ; it did not doubt that the object of knowledge is
external and even material. It assumed that things exist
which, to the modern Skeptic, is the problem at issue.
We shall look now at the appearances of philosophic
Skepticism, and the effect of this Skepticism upon the
Schools in their turning to eclecticism.
The Three Phases of Philosophic Skepticism. These
are three somewhat loosely connected appearances of
Skepticism, and are determined in their character in
large measure by the doctrines which they attacked.
i. The First Phase of Philosophic Skepticism is
called Pyrrhonism (from about 300 to 230 B. a). This
was a Skepticism directed against the assumptions of
the philosophy of Aristotle. From the dates above it
will be seen to be contemporary with the founding of
the Stoic and Epicurean Schools, at the very beginning
266 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
of the period. The two representatives were Pyrrho
(365-275 B. c.) of Elis and his pupil Timori (320-230
B. c.) of Phlius. When Zeno had begun to teach in
the Painted Porch and Epicurus in the Gardens, when
Theophrastus had succeeded his master in the Lyceum
and Polenio led the Academy, the Skeptic Pyrrho be
gan his personal instruction in the city of Elis. Pyrrho
had but little influence. He left no writings, and his
doctrine became known to the ancients through his
pupil, Timon, who was the literary exponent of this
Skepticism. The teaching may be stated in the three
following sentences : (1) We can know nothing of the
nature of things, but only of the states of feeling into
which they put us ; (2) The only correct attitude of
mind is to withhold all judgment and restrain all action ;
(3) The result of this suspense of judgment is ataraxia
or imperturbability. The Skeptic therefore sought the
same internal peace for which Stoic and Epicurean
were seeking, but he was skeptical of the Aristotelian
metaphysics as an instrument to gain it. The opposite
of any conclusion being equally plausible, suspense of
judgment is the only peace of mind.
Pyrrhonism reminded the age after Aristotle that
the problem of the certitude of knowledge is fundamen
tal and must be settled before any philosophy can be
constructed. The School was short lived, and people
disposed to be skeptical joined the Academy.
2. The Second Period of Philosophic Skepticism —
The Skepticism of the Academy (280-129 B. c.). The
Middle Academy and its Skepticism was directed par
ticularly against the Stoic teaching that an " appre
hensive presentation " guaranteed its own truth by the
conviction of immediate certainty. The two most distin-
SKEPTICISM AND ECLECTICISM 2tt
guished representatives of this Skeptical period of the
Academy were Arcesilaus (315-241 B. c.) and Carne-
ades (214-129 B. c.). Carneades must be mentioned
particularly as a genius and a philosopher of great
personal influence. " He was the greatest philosopher
of Greece in the four centuries from Chrysippus to
Plotinus ; indeed, in ability and depth of thought he
surpassed Chrysippus." l Carneades was the most for
midable opponent of the Stoics. He had listened to the
Stoic lecturers, had studied their writings, and had re
futed them on their own grounds in brilliant lectures of
his own.
The Skepticism of the Academy arose somewhat in
this way. The rivalry of the Porch and the Older Acad
emy had grown apace and had been a battle between
two dogmatic Schools. The Academy was being worsted,
its ancient spirit was waning, and it had gradually de
serted speculation for ethics. Under Arcesilaus it was
provoked to new life by the aggressive dogmatism of
the Stoics. Speculation, which it had ignored, it now
began to antagonize openly. Arcesilaus, in directing
his attack against the doctrine of " apprehensive pre
sentation " of the Stoics, came to conclusions but
slightly different from Pyrrho. Carneades laid out for
himself a twofold task : (1) to refute all existing dog
mas, and (2) to evolve a theory of probability as the
basis for practical activity. He applied his Skepticism
not only to speculation, like Arcesilaus, but also to
ethics and religion.*
1 A. Hicks, Stoic and Epicurean, pp. 322 ff.
* Read Grote, Plato, vol. iii, pp. 482-490, for the interest
ing sophistical problems of the Liar, the Person Disguised
under a Veil, Electra, Sorites, Cornutus, and the Bald Mao-
268 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
The Academy did not fully adopt Skepticism, but
used it as a weapon against the Stoics. The Platonic
tradition was kept alive within the School, and Skepti
cism made no advance in the Academy after Carneades.
It did not even continue in the path marked out by
him. In the next generation the Academy became
eclectic.
3. The Third Period of Philosophic Skepticism —
Sensationalistic Skepticism (during two centuries or
more of the Christian era). The chief representatives
were ^Enesidemus of Cnossus (first century A. D.),
Agrippa (about 200 A. D.), and Sextus Empiricus
(about 200 A. D.).
This phase of Skepticism was represented mainly
by physicians, with arguments based upon empirical
physiological grounds. When the Academy passed from
Skepticism to eclecticism, Skepticism became centred in
Alexandria. For two centuries before Galen (131-201
A. D.) great discoveries had been made in medicine, but
the meaning of the discoveries had not been appre
hended. There was a general feeling among physicians
of that time that there is no such thing as scientific
certainty ; and skeptical arguments were constructed^
based on the empirical discoveries of the scientific circle
of Alexandria. While the arguments of the Academy
were mostly formal attacks against the Stoics, this
Skeptical School of physicians returned to Pyrrhonism,
immensely reinforced with scientific material. It strove
in vain to disassociate itself from the Academy, for it
used in one way or another the formal arguments of
the Skeptics of the Academy. In his eight books on
Pyrrhonism, .ZEnesidemus developed the reasons which
induced Pyrrho to call in question the possibility of
SKEPTICISM AND ECLECTICISM 269
knowledge. These are known in philosophjr as the ten
" tropes," or ten ways of justifying doubt.1 They were
badly arranged by JEnesidemus and reduced to five by
Agrippa.2
The Last Century and a Half of the Ethical Period.
(150 B. c.-l A. D.). Eclecticism. — About 150 B. c. the
Ethical Period became eclectic. After 150 years of
passionate controversy the Schools began to compromise
their differences and fuse into one another. They no
longer emphasized their differences, but began to point
to their common ground of unity. This tendency to fu
sion applies only to the Lyceum, the Academy, and the
Porch. The Epicurean School was never a party to this
eclecticism and always remained relatively stationary.
The fusion occurred only in the teaching of the Schools
and not in their organization. Externally the Schools
remained separate bodies for six hundred years longer.
In the second century Hadrian and the Anton ines en
dowed separate chairs for them in the University of
Athens. They were not abolished as Schools until 529
A. D., by Justinian. Internally their independent growth
lasted only during the two centuries down to the year
150 B. c. At this time their theoretic mission had
been completed. Their internal history from 100 B. C.
to 529 A. D. was one of compromise and adjustment.
The year 150 B. c. is therefore important. At this
time the records of the Schools stop, controversy abates,
Stoicism and Epicureanism are introduced into Rome,
and fusion of doctrines begins.
The Stoic School was the first to incline to eclecti
cism. Its own doctrine was a kind of fusion of incoher-
1 For a statement of these tropes, see Weber, Hist, of Phil., p. 153.
• Ueberweg, Hist, of Phil., vol. i, p. 216.
270 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
ent parts, and among the Schools it could most easily
welcome new doctrines. About 150 B. c., under the lead
of Pansetius and Posidonius, it adopted many of the
Platonic and Aristotelian teachings, tempered its own
ethical rigorism, and extended its scientific interests. At
the same time the Peripatetics of the Lyceum united
the pantheism of the Stoics to their own theism. After
the death of Carneades in 129 B. C. the Academy
turned from Skepticism back to the Platonic tradition,
but it was a meagre Platonism adulterated with many
foreign elements. For example, Antiochus of Ascalon
taught Cicero from the Academy at Athens in the win
ter of 79-78 B. c. that Platonism and Aristotelianism
were only different aspects of the same doctrine.
There were two factors that prepared an easy way
for the rapid spread of eclecticism. One was the grow
ing Skepticism that was so fundamental in Hellenism,
and the other was the adoption of Hellenic culture by
the Romans. Eclecticism is, after all, only another form
of Skepticism. Both exhibit the spirit of undecided
conviction. Neither has regard for the bonds of tradi
tion, for both regard the individual superior to every
tradition or system. Eclecticism, indeed, attempts to re
concile differing systems ; but in doing this it casts a
doubt upon the infallibility of them all only to a lesser
degree than Skepticism. The spread of eclecticism was
therefore only an extension from Greece of the skepti
cal spirit upon the world, and the Roman world gave a
glad welcome to such a spirit. The Roman character
was naturally eclectic. After his first aversion the Ro
man was hospitable to all philosophies arid religions.
In his practical way, undisturbed by philosophical hair
splittings, he selected from the different systems what
SKEPTICISM AND ECLECTICISM 271
was suited to his practical needs. Eclecticism found fer
tile ground in Roman civilization.
In the Schools after the year 150 B. c. there appear
many notable names — notable not because they contrib
uted to the theoretic advance of philosophy, but for
some other reason. In the Stoic School were Panaetius,
Posidonius, and Boethus ; and later Seneca, Epictetus,
and Marcus Aurelius. Among the Academicians are
Philo of Larissa and Antiochus ; among the Peripatet
ics of the same century is Andronicus ; and among the
eclectic Platonists Plutarch is especially to be named ;
these were all eclectics. The only one in this group of
eclectics whom we shall have time for a passing examin
ation of is Cicero.
M. Tullius Cicero (106-43 B. c.) listened to Greek
philosophy in all the Schools in Athens and Rhodes.
He read a good deal of Greek literature, so that he had
much philosophical material at his command. He did
not show much discretion in his selection of his mate
rial, but he displayed a good deal of tact in using what
the Roman people would receive. The Greek mind spoke
to the Roman through Cicero's voice almost as though
the Roman were speaking for himself. It must be ad
mitted that Cicero's acquaintance with Greek philo
sophy was on the whole superficial, yet he was able to
express certain aspects of Greek philosophy with clear-
ness for contemporary Latin readers and for many gen
erations succeeding them. He prided himself in his
ability to discuss both sides of a question without him
self arriving at a decision — after the manner of the
Middle Academy, of which he inscribed himself as a
member. His books appeared in rather rapid succes
sion.
272 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
Cicero does not therefore owe his prominence as a
philosopher so much to his own profound independence
of thought as to his skill in translating Greek thought
to the Koman people. His metaphysics is an eclecticism
that is at bottom a skepticism. In view of the existing
philosophical warfare, he despaired of metaphysical or
absolutely complete knowledge. Yet upon ethical and re
ligious questions he spoke in no undecided manner, for
in these realms he felt that we have more than merely
probable evidence. Since he was unable to refute Skep
ticism in a scientific way, he took refuge in the im
mediate certainty of consciousness in all matters that
pertain to morals and religion. There are certain ideas
common to all men. These have not so much been
taught to all men by nature as they are inborn in all.
They are convictions implanted in us ; there is a com
mon human consciousness from which they are derived,
and they are confirmed by universal opinion. Ethical
and religious consciousness thus rests on immediate
certainty. Man has the innate ideas of duty, immortal
ity, and God. Our belief in God's existence is sup
ported by the teleological argument for Providence and
divine government. The high dignity of man rests upon
this innate conviction of freedom and immortality.
Cicero shows his eclecticism by moderating the Stoic
doctrine of virtue : virtue in itself is vita beata, but vir
tue plus happiness is vita beatissima. Unoriginal and
eclectic as Cicero's philosophical position may be, it is
of great importance to the student of Roman history.
CHAPTER XIII
THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD (100 B. C.-476 A. D.)
The Two Causes of the Rise of Religious Feeling.
There were two causes for the turn of the time from
its interest in individual practical ethics to religion.
The first was an inner cause within the nature of the
ethical philosophy of the Schools. The rise of the re
ligious and the supernatural was the culmination of
the undercurrent of skepticism in the validity of reason,
which we found growing rapidly in the Ethical Period.
The more the Schools grew alike in their teaching, the
less were they able to assure their disciples of any cer
tain insight into virtue and happiness. The Ethical
Period ended in eclecticism, and this was the impeach
ment of the authority of each School. The Schools ex
amined their dogmatic assumptions. The fundamental
inner conviction grew stronger that the intellect of man
is self-inconsistent : so inconsistent as to be undepend-
able ; so inconsistent as not to vouchsafe man the virtue
and happiness which the Schools had promised. As
Skepticism became more strongly intrenched, the im
perturbable self-certainty of the Wise Man became
shaken, the Ethical Period disappeared, and the Reli
gious Period was born. Belief in the authority of the
supernatural superseded belief in the authority of the
reason.
The second cause may be called external, and was the
introduction of many eastern religions into the empire.
It has been common to exaggerate the vices of the
274 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
Romans of the first Christian centuries, and to point to
the corruption of the times as the cause of the great rise
of religions.* No doubt, in the city of Rome and other
large cities the populations were very licentious and
corrupt. But this was not the case with the people in
the small municipalities and the country. The people
were united in peace under one government. There
was great commercial prosperity and widespread travel.
Education prospered. The religion of the Romans, how
ever, long since decadent, had become an object of de
rision. All faith in it had been lost, and magicians and
romancers had a large patronage. The inner life of
man demanded some external spiritual authority to
satisfy it, and, finding it could not be satisfied in the
realm of sense, turned to the supersensuous. It was an
age of universal superstitions, reported miracles, and
the multiplying of myths. In the realm of the reli
gious emotions everything was in flux. Even the Greek
philosophies — the Stoic, the Platonic, the Cynic, and
the neo-Pythagorean — show it in their emphasis upon
renunciation in practical life. In place of the Grecian
love for earthly existence, a longing for the mysterious
was growing into a feverish desire for strange and
mysterious cults. A great religious movement possessed
the nations of the empire, and into Roman civilization
of the first century A. D. there streamed many new
religions. From the Orient came the Mithra, Magna
Mater, Star Worship, Isis and Osiris, and many others.
These mingled with the western religions, and their
rivalry was energetic for the possession of men's spirits.
The Roman people were hospitable to all religions, and
Rome became a religious battleground. With the in-
* Read Dill, Roman Society, first three chapters.
THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD 275
terest turned from earthly to heavenly things, salva-
tion from trouble seemed to lie in the supernatural.
The Need of Spiritual Authority. Thus the com
placent Ethical Period gave way to the cry for some
authority in morals and science. Man was no longer
confident that he could attain present happiness or his
soul's salvation by his own strength. He turned for
help both to the religious tradition of the past and to
the revelation that might come to him in the present.
The authority in either was practically the same ; for
the past was only the crystallization of an ever-present
divine spirit. Yet present and past revelations differ in
their credentials : the present revelation is an immedi
ate illumination of the spirit ; the past is presented in
historic records. The Alexandrian school accepted both
forms of revelation as the highest source of knowledge.
The demand for supernatural authority found ex
pression in many curious ways. It is notorious that
at this time the writings and oral traditions of the
past were greatly interpolated. The philosophers of the
first century thought that they themselves could get a
hearing only by inserting their own doctrines into the
writings of Plato, Aristotle, and other heroes of the
past. Thus the neo-Pythagoreans invented a halo of
wisdom for Pythagoras in order to give their own sect
its credentials. The demand for authority culminated
in the attempt to trace the entire civilization of the
time to some religious source. Philo on the one side,
and the Gnostics on the other, found that Greek and
Hebrew history have a common religious origin. Greek
thought was found in the Oriental writings. The Greek
sages were placed by the side of the Old Testament
heroes. The canon of the Christians is full of cross-
276 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
references — the Old Testament giving historical au
thority to the New Testament, the New Testament
giving to the Old Testament the support of immediate
revelation. There came into vogue what was called
" allegorical interpretation," according to which an his
torical document could be given two interpretations
(or more) — a literal interpretation and a spiritual inter
pretation. The documents were supposed to have a body
and a soul. The literal interpretation was of the body of
the documents and suitable for the people ; the spiritual
interpretation was the more liberal interpretation of
the soul of the document and suitable for philosophers.
At the same time a vast number of writings ap
peared as historical revelations. It was necessary to
separate the true from the false, but this could not be
done by the individual without injuring the very prin
ciple upon which revelation was supposed to rest. Con
sequently all knowledge was generally regarded as reve
lation. For example, Plutarch and the Stoics divided
revelation into three classes : poetry, law, and philosophy.
Although Plutarch disclaimed open superstitions, he
nevertheless accepted as true all sorts of miracles and
prophecies. The later neo-Platonists are also examples
of the great body of those who made no discrimination
as to what revelation is true. The Christian church
may be said to have been alone in making a criticism
of the records, and in setting up as criteria tradition
and historically accredited authority. As a result of
its criticism the Christian canon was finally decided
upon, and the Old and New Testaments were accepted
as alone inspired. The rivals of the church — the Alex
andrian philosophies, especially neo-Platonism — had
no organization that could decide upon a canon. They
THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD 277
were consequently at a disadvantage, but they felt no
need of an infallible historical authority or of histori
cal criticism. Revelation to them was any immediate
illumination of the individual. The individual man
«vho comes in contact with the Deity has possession of
the divine truth. Although only few attain the truth,
and these only at rare moments, there is nevertheless
no way of determining what is fictitious and what is
true. This difference in the conception of inspiration
between the neo-Platonists and the Christians is im
portant to note, for it marks an important difference
in the two greatest intellectual movements of the next
thousand years. The church fixed revelation on the
basis of historical authority, and this revelation be
came the source of the scholasticism of the Middle
Ages ; neo-Platonism left the individual man free to
get revelation from any source through his own per
sonal contact with the divine, and this was the basis of
the mysticism of the Middle Ages.
The Rise of the Conception of Spirituality. We have
seen that out of the widespread cry for spiritual help
came the demand for spiritual authority. There is also
another result, — the increased importance in history of
the spiritual personality. The men of the past became
heroes, the great men sanctified and surrounded with
myths. Hero worship, ancestor worship, the worship of
the genius of the emperor inaugurated by Augustus,
were part of this movement. Disciples began to have un
conditional trust in their masters, and in neo-Platonism
this worship culminated in veneration for the leaders
of the School. This movement appears in the grand
est form in history in the impression of the wonderful
personality of Jesus Christ.
278 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
The next step was to regard personality as the reve
lation of the divine Logos. Personality is the cosmic
reason. Nature and history are kinds of general revela
tions, but special revelations require great personalities
— Moses, the prophets, the Greek scientists, and es
pecially Jesus who was the Messiah, the Son of God.
The power that these personalities exhibit must be a
revelation, and not the working of the human reason,
for the human unaided reason deals only with sensations,
and is incapable of gaining divine truth. The reason
needs the divine to illuminate it. The great personali
ties are therefore the repositories of powers that make
them different from ordinary men. Their revelations
are above, and sometimes opposed to, the conclusions
of ordinary reason. Thus personalities themselves are
divided by religious dualism, and in them. the human
and divine are far apart. Moreover, the more great
personalities were apotheosized, the more the common
run of humanity was depreciated. Then distinction was
made between great personalities. At first, when au
thority was sought everywhere, all great personalities
were supposed to have divine revelation ; later, when
the lines were drawn between the Christian and other
beliefs, only the Christian leaders were considered by the
Christians to be instruments of the divine.
This spiritualizing of historical personalities laid the
emphasis more than ever before upon the dualism in all
human beings. All men are ensnared in the world of
sense, and they can attain knowledge of the higher
world only through the illumination of their higher
natures. Aristotle alone among the Greeks had had a
clear conception of spirituality, but he had conceived
spirituality as applied solely to God. He had not con-
THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD 279
ceived God to be a person. But the Stoic antithesis of
reason and what is contrary to reason, and the Platonic
antithesis of the supersensuous and the sensuous, had
marked off in man the inner personal nature of man as
withdrawn into itself and set over against his sensuous
nature. The more this ethical dualism became a reli
gious dualism, the more the conception of spiritual per
sonality was extended to all human beings. Its most
refined expression was in the Christian conception of
the soul.
The Revival of Platonism. The Platonism of the
Academy had had little influence in the Ethical Period
and its tradition had been barely kept alive. The Middle
Academy had been skeptical and the New Academy eclec
tic. The Religious Period, on the other hand, was thor
oughly Platonic, and Plato from this time until the
Crusades became the ruling philosophical power. For
three hundred years his influence had been nothing;
for the next twelve hundred he dominated men's minds,
so far as any philosopher could in religious times. When
the Wise Man vanished from philosophy, and the ex
pectation of spiritual blessedness took its place, when
Skepticism drove men from ethics, first to eclecticism
and then to theology, when philosophy passed to mysti
cism — then did Platonism, with its antithesis between
the sensible and the supersensible, come to its own. Of
all the historical philosophies it could best amalgamate
all religions. Platonism (1) absorbed Oriental religions,
(2) furnished a didactic form for Christianity, (3) re
created itself into the mystic neo-Platonism. The world-
longing for the supernatural found its best medium in
Platonism. When the Wise Man vanished, the mystic
priest appeared.
280 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
The Divisions of the Religious Period. Out of the
seething religious times at the beginning of this era,
there emerged two distinct currents of thought that
extended through the entire length of the Religious
Period, and carried down into the Middle Ages all the
culture that the medieval possessed. The two move
ments were (1) the religious philosophies of the still
persistent Hellenic civilization, and (2) the new-born
Christian religion, which was destined to determine the
future of the western people. If we scrutinize these two
movements we shall find that each has its introductory
and its development stages, and at the point of division
in each stands a great leader who was instrumental in
bringing about the transition. The great neo-Platonist,
Plotinus (204-269), marks the division line in the
Hellenic movement ; the Christian, Origen (185-254),
marks the division line in theological Christianity.
While these men were contemporaries, we shall take,
for various reasons, the year 200 as the date of division
of the Christian movement, and the year 250 as the
date of division of the Hellenic movement. The first
stage of each movement we shall call its Introductory
Period, and the second its Development Period.
During their Introductory Periods the two movements
tried to draw together under the influence of the philo
sophical eclecticism which colors this time. In their
Development Periods the two movements draw apart,
become closed and mutually repellent. The historical de
velopments of the two movements from beginning to end
are very different. The tide of Hellenism floods with
Plotinus, its greatest representative, and after him there
is a gradual ebb. On the other hand, Christianity shows
a continuous growth, both internally and externally, and
THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD
281
the mighty Origen only points to the mightier Augus
tine. Both movements finally merge in Augustine.
Hellenic Religious Phi
losophy.
1. Introductory Period
(100 B. C.-250A.D.).
(1) Greek-Jewish phi
losophy of Alex
andria.
Philo (25 B. c.-
50 A. D.).
(2) Neo-Pythagoreau-
ism (100 B. c.-
150 A. D.).
2. Development Period
(250-476).
Neo-Platon i sm .
Plotinus (204-269).
Jamblichus (d. 330
about).
Proclus (410-485).
II. Christianity.
1. Introductory Period
(31 A. D. -200 A. D.).
(1) Period of simple
faith (until the 2d
century A. D.).
(2) Period of Earlier
Formulation of
Doctrine.
Apologists (2d
century).
Gnostics (2d cen
tury).
Old Catholic The
ologians (2d and
3d centuries).
2. Development Period
(200-476).
(1) Period of Actual
Formulation of
Doctrine.
The School of
Catechists. Ori
gen (185-254).
(2) The CEcumenical
Councils and the
establishment of
dosmuL
282 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
The Hellenic Religious Philosophies. Alexandria and
not Athens was now the intellectual centre of Hellen
ism. The position and history of the city, as well as the
character of its population, were most favorable for the
mingling of religions and philosophies. In the "uni
versity " of this great commercial metropolis the treas
ures of Greek culture were concentrated and scholastic
work was vigorously pursued. Here all philosophies
met, and all religions and cults were tolerated. Ex
hausted Greek philosophy here came in contact with
those fresh Oriental ideas which previously, at a dis
tance, had excited the imagination of the Greeks as
something mysterious. The result was a new phase of
philosophy, — theosophy, comparative religion, or eclec
ticism of philosophy and religion.
In no instance were the authors of these religious
philosophies Greeks. The philosophy of Philo was a
Hellenism, but the Hellenism of a Jew. Neo-Pythago-
reanism seems to have had representatives from every
country except the motherland of Greece. The author
of neo-Platonism was born in Egypt. Of the two intro
ductory movements, the Greek-Jewish philosophy ac
corded more with Oriental life, neo-Pythagoreanism
with Greek life. Both go back to the principles that
were fundamental in the Pythagorean mysteries.
The Introductory Period of Hellenic Religious Phi
losophy (100 B. C.-250 A. D.). The Turning to the
Past for Spiritual Authority.
I. The Greek- Jewish Philosophy of Philo. The Jews
lived in great numbers in Alexandria, and many of
them were wealthy and influential. In Alexandria the
Old Testament had been translated into Greek, and
through it the Greeks had become acquainted with the
THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD 283
religion of the Jews. While the Old Testament con-
tained the philosophy of the Jews, these Alexandrian
Jews had learned in Alexandria to admire greatly the
philosophy of the Greeks. So great was their admiration
that they soon conceived Plato to be in their Law and
their Law in Plato. They argued that since the Old
Testament was their revelation, all the best Greek phi
losophy must be in the Old Testament. The Alexan
drian Jews used Greek conceptions wherever they
found them ; and this tendency toward eclecticism ap
peared as early as 160 B. c. in Aristobulus and Aris-
teas. At that time these Jews used Greek philosophy
in interpreting the Old Testament and employed the
"allegorical method of interpretation." This eclectic
tendency was brought to completion by Philo (25 B. c.
-50 A. D.), who was the most notable philosopher of
this time. Philo was guided in his eclecticism by some
such rules as these: (1) Revelation is the highest
possible authority and includes the best of Greek
thought; (2) Greek philosophy is derived from the
fundamental principles of the Old Testament ; (3)
Jewish revelation is expressed in symbols, while Greek
philosophy is expressed in concepts.
Philo's teaching contains, in unsymmetrical form,
both Stoicism and Platonism, and in it can be found
the seeds of all that grew up m Christian soil. His
philosophy was a bridge from the philosophy of Juda
ism to Christian theology. It has been called a " buffer "
philosophy.
God is the ultimate cause of the world, but He is so
transcendent that He can be described only in negative
terms. This method of defining God got the name in
later times of " negative theology." It was the common
284 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
method in these Alexandrian days. God is absolutely
inconceivable and inexpressible to man ; to Himself
He is " I am who am." The goodness of God impelled
Him, and His power enabled Him, to create the world.
From this point of view Philo is a monist. But in man
reason and sense meet. Man's soul is from God, but his
sense-body is from matter, and from this point of view
Philo is a dualist. Matter is outside God. God is so
transcendent that He cannot come in contact with mat
ter, and so He created the world and rules the world
through mediators or "potencies." These "potencies"
are the same as the Ideas of Plato, the " reasons " of
the Stoics, the numbers of the Pythagoreans, the angels
of the Old Testament, or the demons of popular myth
ology. The sum-total of God's activity in the world was
called by Philo the Logos. Philo speaks of the Logos
in two ways : sometimes as the plural number of tele-
ological forces in the world ; sometimes as the unity of
these forces, " the first begotten of God," " the second
God," " the son of God." The Logos represents the first
attempt to overcome the dualism between matter and
God. The Logos is the high priest standing between
God and the world. It is the everlasting revelation of
God's presence. Philo's world is made by God and not
by others, and is the expression of God's thought in
infinite forms and forces. God is not defiled by coming
into contact with matter. God gives orders, the Logos
obeys. Philo believed in transmigration of souls, and
to him the most important problem is, How the spirit
can become like God. The answer is (1) by the acquire
ment of the Stoic apathy, (2) by possessing the Aris
totelian dianoetic virtues, (3) by complete absorption
in God.
THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD 285
2. Neo-Pythagoreanism. The history of Pythago-
reanism is extremely varied. Its body of doctrine from
epoch to epoch was continually changing. The onlj
characteristic common to its entire history was its
practical tendency toward asceticism and its affiliation
with the Mysteries. Let us review the history of Pytha-
goreanism down to the time of neo-Pythagoreanism.
In 510 B. c., at the battle of Crotona, the early band
of Pythagoreans was dispersed, and about 504 B. c.
Pythagoras died. His scattered followers formed a
school centring at Thebes around the philosophy of num
bers, and this school lasted until 350 B. C. In 350 B. C.
Pythagoreanism no longer existed as a school, for its
members had either joined the Academy or formed one
of the Mysteries. In 100 B. C. Pythagoreanism again
emerged under the name of neo-Pythagoreanism, and
this is the body which we meet in the introductory
stage of the Religious Period. Alexandria was its
centre, but it drew its disciples from every part of the
earth. Among them Apollonius alone rises as a distinct
figure. He was widely known, for he traveled every
where as a religious teacher and wonder-worker. Other
neo-Pythagoreans were P. Nigidius Figulus, a friend
of Cicero, Sotion, a friend of the Sextians, Moderatus
of Gades, and in later times Nicomachus of Gerasa and
Numenius of Apamea. Another, and rather numerous
group, allied to the neo-Pythagoreans, should be men
tioned here. These were the so-called Eclectic Platon-
ists, the representatives of whom were Plutarch (50—125
A. D.), and Celsus (about 200 A. D.), the opponent of
Christianity. The only important difference between
the neo-Pythagoreans and the Eclectic Platonists was
that the former referred to Pythagoras as their religious
286 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
model, and the latter to Plato. Both were mystical,
ascetic, and eclectic.
Neo-Pythagoreanism first became noticeable in the
first century B. c., on account of the great number
of writings appearing under the names of Pythagoras
and Philolaus. About these there arose a large neo-
Pythagorean literature, — about ninety treatises by fifty
authors. The writings under the name of Pythagoras
were, for many centuries, the cause of the misconcep
tion of the true teaching of the original Pythagoras.
The advent of the neo-Pythagorean literature marks the
return at Alexandria to the older systems of thought,
and is coincident with the learned literary investigations
in the University of Alexandria. The particular revival
of Pythagoreanism in the form of neo-Pythagoreanism
came at the same time with the renewal of the Homeric
form of poetry.
Neo-Pythagoreanism, as its history shows, is the phi
losophy of a half-religious sect with ascetic tendencies.
Its transcendental philosophy was better suited to a
people under an autocratic government, and ruled by
Oriental traditions, than was the ethical teaching of the
four Schools. The system of the ethical Schools arose
out of the needs of the individual ; but at this time the
cry was for an absolute object which transcends both
the individual and nature. The demand was for a god
who could be served not by sacrifice, but by silent
prayer, wisdom, and virtue. There are many points of
similarity between the doctrine of Philo and neo-Pytha
goreanism. The neo-Pythagoreans were monotheistic,
but at the same time they accepted within their mono
theism the hierarchy of the gods. They held to the com
monly accepted doctrines of their time, viz., the trans-
THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD 281
migration of the soul, the dualism of the mind and
body, the mediation of a graded series of celestial beings
between man and God. They interpreted God in a
spiritual way, but they conceived the ideas in God's
mind to be the Pythagorean numbers — just as Philo
conceived them to be the Old Testament angels.
The Development Period of Hellenic Religious
Philosophy (250-476 A. D.). The Turning to the
Present for Spiritual Authority. Platonism and Neo-
Platonism. Neo-Platonism is the final statement of
Hellenic culture, and the question may be asked, In what
form did it present Hellenism ? The answer is, It sets
forth the Hellenic feeling as mysticism. The contribu
tion of Plotinus was the destruction of the classic Greek
ideal with its definiteness of form, and was the substitu
tion of a new ideal of soaring spiritual exaltation. One
has only to look back to the art, science, and philosophy
of the Periclean Age to appreciate how far this last sur
vival of Greek culture had drifted from its original
moorings. Nevertheless, neo-Platonism is not so very far
distant from that powerful ascetic principle in the Greek
mysteries which is one aspect of the doctrine of Plato
himself. Neo-Platonism was Platonism exaggerated on
this mystic and ascetic side. Plotinus said that he was
ashamed that he had a body; that the soul looks on and
weeps at the sinf ulness of the body ; that it is not enough
to regulate the body, but that the body must be ex
terminated. As the voice of Hellenism, neo-Platonism
is speaking in an age when consciousness is weighed
down with the sense of the enormity of evil and the
need of salvation. Neo-Platonism feels that the moral
conflict in the human soul is repeated in the universe;
that the eternal struggle between matter and spirit goes
288 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
on in the macrocosm as well as the microcosm. Plotinus
held to the ancient Greek conception of the personifica
tion of the powers of nature, of the derivation of happi
ness from activity, of the supremacy of the intellect over
the other faculties. But in accepting the ancient Greek
doctrine of the subordination of man to the universe, he
conceived man to be absorbed by the universe.
Neo-Platonism and the Two Introductory Philoso
phies. Neo-Platonism, therefore, shares in the mysti
cism of the philosophies of Philo and the neo-Pythago-
reans. All three teach the transcendence of God ; all
three were metaphysically monistic and ethically dual-
istic ; all three conceive the existence of intermediaries
between God and man. The introductory philosophies
sought to build eclectic doctrines, while neo-Platonism
became eclectic only in its last phases. Plotinus con
structed a positive and original philosophy, and among
the three systems the teaching of Plotinus is carefully
worked out. Indeed, Plotinus is by far the greatest
thinker of this religious period. In the philosophy of
Plotinus the relations between man and God are given
a more aesthetic character, and the doctrine of imme
diate experience is more carefully discussed and has
greater importance than in neo-Pythagoreanism and the
teaching of Philo.
Neo-Platonism and Christianity. Neo-Platonism and
Christianity have one thing at least in common. They
have the same problem, — how to spiritualize the uni
verse. This was the problem that both Plotinus and
Origen attempted to work out. With the development
of the consciousness of spiritual personality and the
need of a revelation, the Divine seemed to both to be
correspondingly farther away. God is unknown and
THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD 289
incomprehensible, and so pure that He cannot come in
contact with earthly existence. What, then, is the bond
between the heavenly and the earthly ? From the point
of view of cosmology and of ethics, neither succeeded in
overcoming the dualism. The sensuous was regarded as
alien to God, and as a thing from which the spirit must
free itself. Metaphysically their efforts to construct a
spiritual monism were more successful, but their efforts
were along different lines. The Christian conceived the
universe of God and matter to be bound together by
the principle of love ; the neo-Platonist, by a series of
countless grades of beings in diminishing perfections
from the All-perfect. Then again, to the neo-Platonist
the question of the return of man to God was a ques
tion of the personal inner experience of the individual;
to the Christian theologian it was included in the
larger problem of the historical process by which the
whole human race is redeemed. Thus the metaphysical
solution of each works out differently and with different
factors.
Both neo-Platonic and Christian theology tried to
prove that their respective religious convictions were
the only true source of salvation. Both originated in the
Alexandrian School. Christian theology was preceded
by the fantastic system of the Gnostics, as Plotinus
was preceded by the Pythagoreans and Philo. In their
development the differences between the two appear.
Christianity was supported by a church organization
which had an internal vitality and a regulative power ;
neo-Platonism was supported and regulated by individ
uals, without organization, who had assimilated every
faith. Christian theology was founded on a faith that
had already expanded, while neo-Platonism was at the
290 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
beginning an erudite religion that tried to develop an
extended faith and, incidentally, later to assimilate other
cults. Outwardly neo-Platonism, as the final stand of
the pagan world to save itself from destruction, was
unsuccessful in that it failed to perpetuate itself as an
organization. Really it achieved a marked success. Not
only did it live a long life of two hundred and fifty
years, but it also lived in the development of its antag
onist, Christianity. For neo-Platonism, by the irony of
fate, was one of the important factors that entered into
the building up and strengthening of Christianity. In
its lingering death-struggle Hellenism was creating the
conceptions that the Christian, Augustine, later em
ployed in shaping Christian theology for the Middle
Ages.
The Periods of Neo-Platonism.
(1) The Alexandrian School — about 240.
Neo-Platonism presented as a Scientific Theory.
The leader was Plotinus (204-269).
(2) The Syrian School — about 310.
The Attempt to Systematize all Polytheisms.
The leader was Jamblichus (d. about 330).
, (3) The Athenian School — about 450.
The Recapitulation of Greek Philosophy.
The leader was Proclus (410-485).
The Alexandrian School. The Scientific Theory of
Neo-Platonism. The Life and Writings of Plotinus
(204-269 A. D.). Plotinus was born in Lycopolis in
Egypt, and received his education in Alexandria, under
Ammonius Saccas, who was Origen's teacher. He cam
paigned with the emperor, Gordian, against the Per
sians, in order to pursue scientific studies in the East.
He was especially interested in the Persian religion. In
THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD 291
this way Plotinus became acquainted at first hand with
the mysticism of the Orient. In 244 he appeared at
Rome as a teacher, and was received with great eclat by
the people, and in the highest circles he gained the
most reverent recognition. His school contained repre
sentatives from all nations and from almost every call
ing, — physicians, rhetoricians, poets, senators, an em
peror and empress. Plotinus lived in a country estate
in Campania, and he almost succeeded in inducing the
emperor to found a city of philosophers in Campania.
It was to be called Platonopolis and, with Plato's Be-
public as a model, it was to be an Hellenic cloister for
religious contemplation. The literary activity of Plo
tinus occurred in his old age, and he wrote nothing until
after he was fifty. His works consisted of fifty-four
Corpuscles which his pupil, Porphyry, combined into
six Enneads. For the next three hundred years his
school became the centre of the Hellenic movement —
the centre of science, philosophy, and literature. The
literature of neo-Platonism was enormous, on account
of the many commentaries on the philosophy of Plato
within the neo-Platonic circle.
The General Character of the Teaching of Plotinus.
There is a great division of opinion about the value of
the teaching of Plotinus, for he drew his philosophy
only in the broadest outlines, and he made no attempt
to advance from a general view of the world to exact
knowledge of it. Intellectually his philosophy is an ab
straction ; and yet emotionally, in an intimate way, it
touched deeply an age weary with culture. Thus one
can see how the actual achievement of Plotinus was
small, but how at the same time its force and influence
was very great. It was a religious teaching which rose
292 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
to magnificent heights of contemplation from miserable
intellectual surroundings. Nevertheless, the philosophy
of Plotinus was an extreme form of intellectualism —
it was an intellectual ennobling and transforming of
religion. The earlier philosophy had supported the
happiness of the individual by offers of infinitude ; but
Plotinus thought of the individual as never isolated
from the Infinite, but as always longing for the Infinite.
Fellowship with God is knowledge of Him, but it is
knowledge of a peculiar kind. It is enthusiasm, intui
tion, ecstasy. There is a chasm between man and God,
which Plotinus would bridge by placing reality so
deeply within consciousness as to annihilate all anti
theses and contradictions. Thus this deep reality be
low consciousness is cosmic and not human ; .and the
religion of Plotinus is cosmocentric and not anthropo-
centric. Plotinus intensifies and summarizes Greek cul
ture in order to consolidate and defend it. But in thus
thinking out the Greek conceptions to their logical
completeness, those conceptions collapse.
The Mystic God. There are two characteristics that
distinguish the mystic God of Plotinus,
1. The first characteristic is the supra-consciousness
of God. God is the indefinable, original Being who is
above all antitheses. He is swpnz-everything, even
supra-conscious. Nothing can be attributed to Him, not
even thought or will, for these imply two elements and
God is a unity. Any description of Him must be in
negative terms ("negative theology"). If we speak of
Him as the One, the First, the Cosmic Cause, Good
ness, or as Light, we are only relatively and not really
describing Him. God is present in all, yet He is not
divided ; He is the source of all, and yet He himself is
THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD 293
perfectly finished. In his conception of God as compared
to the world, Plotinus added the realm of the supra-con
scious and the sub-conscious to the conscious.
2. In the second place Plotinus conceived God in His
relation to the world in the terms of dynamic panthe
ism. This is a pantheism of a peculiar type. God does
not create the world ; the world is not the act of His will ;
nor is the world the result of a transference of part of
His nature. In ordinary pantheism the world is a diffu
sion of the substance of God and the whole is static.
Not so in the teaching of Plotinus ! God permeates the
world by His activity, and the world is dynamic through
and through. But this dynamic activity of God must
not be conceived as an historical or time process. The
process is timeless. It is a process of essence or worth.
The grades in the process are those of significance or
value. All are within the all-embracing unity of God
and each particular draws its life from Him. This is
called the theory of emanations. Plotinus used the
figure which mystics have always employed in this con
nection, — the figure of the sun and its rays of light in
the darkness. The rays become less and less intense
with the increasing distance from the Godhead, until
they end in darkness. The process is an overflowing
from the Godhead in which the Godhead remains un
changed.
The Two Problems of Plotinus. Starting with this
conception of the Godhead as a dynamic coiitentless
Being, Plotinus is bound to explain the world of sense-
phenomena. His problem is twofold : he must explain
the sequence of phenomena from the Godhead, which is
the metaphysical problem ; he must explain how man, liv
ing in the world of sense, can rise to communion with
294 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
the Godhead, which is the ethical problem. Metaphysics
and ethics are to Plotinus in inverted parallelism.
The World of Emanations. — The Metaphysical
Problem of Plotinus. The aim of Plotinus in this is to
construct a metaphysical monism out of the dualistic
factors which had so long been present in Greek thought.
The two fundamental principles upon which he raised
his structure were (1) his dynamic series of emanations,
and (2) his conception of matter as entirely negative.
The highest Being, God, by an excess of energy or
goodness, has the natural impulse to create something
similar to himself. This creative impulse exists in each
creature in turn and the movement propagates itself.
Stage is added to stage in a descending series, until the
impulse dies out in non-Being as the limit. The ordinary
pantheism of co-existence of phenomena is transformed
into a succession of stages of values, and all make up a
harmony of more or less distinct copies of God. There
are three steps in which the process of emanation pro
ceeds, — spirit, soul, and matter.
The Spirit or Nous is the first emanation from the
One in point of significance. It is the image of the One
sent forth by its overflow of energy. This image in
voluntarily turns toward its original, the One, and in
beholding it becomes Spirit, Nous, or intellectual con
sciousness. It turns to the One and recognizes itself as
the image of the One. Thus, in the first degree away
from God, the duality of thinker as subject, and of the
thing thought as object, appears. The unconsciousness
of the One is thus contrasted with consciousness, and
the dual nature of consciousness is thus brought out ; and
for the first time an exact formulation of the psychologi
cal conception of consciousness is given.
THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD 295
The Nous is a unitary function of the One, like the
Logos of Philo. At the same time the Nous contains
within itself, as content, the Platonic Ideas or arch-
types of individuals. These Ideas are not mere thoughts,
but have their own existence. The Nous is their unity,
however, just as a unity exists for the theorems of a
science. These Ideas are pure intellectual potencies and
the final causes of the world of nature.
The Soul is the second degree removed from the One.
It stands in the same relation to the Nous as the Nous
to the Godhead. The Soul belongs to the world of
light, but it stands just on the boundaries of the world
of darkness. It is the image of an image and therefore
doubly dual, — it consists of a higher or world-soul and
the lesser souls. The world-soul is divided into two
forces, — the formative power of the world, and the body
of the world. Individual souls are divided into the super
sensible or intellectual soul (the part that has pre-exist-
ence and undergoes metamorphosis), and the sensible
part which has built up the body as an instrument of
its working power. The soul is present in all parts
of its body. The individual souls are called plastic
forces.
Matter is the emanation which is most distant from
the One. The Nous is the emanation of the One, the
world-soul is the emanation from the Nous, individual
souls are a kind of intermediate emanation from the
world-soul, and matter is the emanation of the individ
ual souls. That is to say, the world-soul, with the forces
that are native to it, generates matter and then, by
uniting itself through its forces with matter, produces
the world of corporeal things. What is the character
of matter with which the world-soul forms this union?
296 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
It is space. Space conditions all earthly existence. It
is the same as Plato's conception of the absolutely nega
tive non-Being and the merely possible. It is absolute
sterility, entirely evil and devoid of good. Matter has
no dualistic independence of the One. What is the char
acter of the nature world ? It has the same character
and quality as the formative forces that unite with this
negative matter — it is no more and no less eternal.
The world of nature to Plotinus is one of magic, and
not merely teleological. He says that the heavens are
the union of a perfect soul with matter ; the stars are the
visible gods united with matter ; the powers of the air
and sky are daemons, which mediate between the stars
and the souls of men, united with matter ; the body of
man is the human soul united with matter; inorganic
nature is the lowest of the plastic forces united with
matter. Wherever there is matter (space), there is
found imperfection and limitation and evil. Man as an
individual is sympathetically and mysteriously bound
to all parts of the universe. Scientific investigation of
nature is entirely ruled out by this neo-Platonic teach
ing. It never could be the instrument for penetrating
a magical universe. Faith and superstition take the
place of science, and prophecy alone undertakes to
solve nature's riddle.
The world of nature is thus broken in two. In one
sense it is bad, ugly, and irrational. In another sense it
is good, beautiful, and rational, because it is formed by
the souls that enter into it. In opposition to the Gnos
tics Plotinus praised the harmony and beauty of the
world, and promulgated his metaphysics of the beautiful
as a last farewell of Hellenic civilization. Beauty is not
composite, but the simple Idea of worth shining through
THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD 297
the world of sense. Beauty is from the inner and for
the inner. Art does not imitate nature, but expresses
the reason ; it supplements the defects of nature and
creates something new. Yet the world of nature is beau
tiful, because down to the lowest deeps it is permeated
by the divine.
The Return of the Soul to God. — The Ethical Prob
lem of Plotinus. In his discussion of moral conduct
Plotinus started from the point opposite to that of his
metaphysics. He looked from the point of view of man
up the series which descended from the Godhead. Men
immersed in matter have nevertheless a share in the di
vine life, and their goal is independence of the world.
They must free themselves from sense. Man's ethical
task is to separate the two worlds and to turn away
from the material, not only in its abnormalities but in
every way. The practical virtues have little value in
such a sublimation of the soul, for these only bind the
soul more closely to the world of matter. The political
virtues are only a preparation by which the soul learns
how to be free from sense. The intellectual virtues are
necessary, but the goal of salvation is not reached by
knowledge alone. "The wizard king builds his tower
of speculation by the hands of human workmen till he
reaches the top story, and then he summons his genii
to fashion the battlements of adamant and crown them
with starry fire." Out of the mental condition of con
templation the soul will rise on the wings of ecstasy to
the God from whom it came. The call of Plotinus is to
the ascetic life. The development required is that of
spirituality. Ethically Plotinus' doctrine is dualistic,
because it requires the rejection of matter as evil. The
return is not an evolution nor an innovation in which
298 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
reform of the old world is demanded. There is no indi«
vidual progress, but a penetration into the foundation
of things. But what incentive has man to undertake
this return ? What arouses him from his sleep ? Not
3ense-perception nor reflection, but his love for the
beautiful. The innate impulse of Platonic love turns
the soul away from matter to the illuminating Idea,
lie who has an immediate recognition of the pure Idea
is gaining the higher perfection. Only when man is in
ecstasy — an ecstasy which transcends every subjective
state — does he get complete contact and union with God.
In such a moment of consecration he forgets himself
and becomes God. This final step never comes unless
God himself . illuminates the soul by a special light so
that it can see God. This final state comes only to few
souls, and to those but seldom.
The Syrian School. — The Systematizing of Poly
theisms. — Jamblichus. This school existed about a
generation after the death of Plotinus. Its founder was
Jamblichus (d. about 330), whose teacher was Por
phyry, the pupil of Plotinus. Jamblichus was a Syrian,
who got his instruction from Porphyry at Rome, and
then went back to his native country to set up for him
self a school of neo-Platonism. He soon became rever
enced as teacher, religious reformer, and worker of
miracles. He wrote commentaries on Plato, Aristotle,
and the theological works of the Orphics, Chaldeans,
and the Pythagoreans. Among the crowd of his enthu
siastic disciples, one notes the names of the Emperor
Julian and Hypatia.*
The neo-Platonism of Jamblichus contained no new
point of view. Metaphysically and ethically his teach-
* Read Charles Kingsley, Hypatia, a novel.
THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD 299
ing was identical with that of Plotinus. He tried to
complete the religious movement by coordinating all
cults, excepting Christianity, into a unity. This was an
eclecticism by which Jamblichus came naturally, for
Syria was a land where eclecticism thrived. It was here
that Gnosticism had its stronghold. With free eclectic
hand Jamblichus filled in all the intermediary grades
between the Godhead and man with the multitude of
gods of all religions. In his system he placed 10 supra-
terrestrial gods, 365 celestial beings, 72 orders of sub-
celestial beings, and 42 orders of natural gods. To find
places for them all, he had to increase the number of
intermediaries ; and to systematize this complex poly
theism, he employed the Pythagorean numbers. His
theory shows how persistent was the Hellenic civiliza
tion.
The Athenian School. — Recapitulation. — Proclus.
The Syrian school failed to restore the old religions, and
we find neo-Platonism, after revivals here and there,
again at Athens. The city that had been the original
sanctuary of Greek culture was the last stronghold of
Hellenism.
The Athenian school made its appearance about 410,
and its leading representatives were Plutarch, Syrianus,
and Proclus. Proclus (410-485), the pupil of Syrianus,
was the most important representative of the Athenian
school, and he may be said to have uttered the last word
of dying Hellenism. Born at Constantinople, of a Ly-
cian family, he received his education at Alexandria ;
and when he became leader of the school at Athens, he
received the extravagant worship of his pupils. Con
nected with the Athenian school were the great com
mentators, Philoponus and Simplicius, whose works on
300 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
Aristotle became of great value to later times. Theii
erudite compilations stand out sharply against the im
aginative speculations of their age. In connection with
this school Boethius must not be overlooked. He was
a neo-Platonist who called himself a Christian, and he
was an important figure in the history of education.
His translations and expositions of Aristotle's logic and
of the Isagoge of Porphyry were very influential in the
Middle Ages.
Proclus was a theologian like Jamblichus, excepting
that he tried to put theology upon a philosophical basis.
By means of the dialectic he sought to systematize the
entire philosophical thought of the Greeks. His insati
able desire for faith was accompanied by wonderful
dialectical ability, with the result that his teaching was
an intricate formalism united with mythology. He
carried out his dialectical plans to the minutest detail.
He drew the materials of his system from both bar
barians and Greeks, and he himself had been initiated
into all the Mysteries. Every superstition of the past
and present influenced him, and in framing a universal
system he did not feel satisfied until every transmitted
doctrine had found a place in that system. He was the
systematizer of paganism and its scholastic. He con
ceived that the fundamental problem was that of the One
and the Many, and that the One is related to the Many in
three stages, — permanence, going-forth, and return. The
Many as a manifold effect is similar to the unity of the ori
ginal cause and yet different from it. Development is the
striving of the effect to return to the original cause, and
this strife for a return to God was illustrated by Proclus
in every realm of life, and he repeated it again and again
in application to every detail. He conceived that the de*
THE RELIGIOUS PERIOD 301
velopment of the world from the Godhead was continu
ally going through this triad system of change. His
philosophy, however, shows no originality other than
being an ingenious formal classification in which every
polytheism found a place.
CHAPTER XIV
PATRIST1CS.-THE HELLENIZING OF THE GOSPEL
The Early Situation of Christianity. The Orient was
the source of the Gospel, as of the other religions of
this time. The power of Christianity lay in the sponta
neous force of its pure religious feeling, with which it
entered the lists for the conquest of the world. Chris
tianity was not a philosophy, but a religion. It appealed
to a different class than did the Alexandrian schools.
The lower class received it first, and so the questions of
science and philosophy occupied the early Christians
but little. They were neither the friends nor the foes
of Hellenism, and they took no interest in political
theories. The Christian society was a spiritual cosmo
politanism, which was inspired and united by belief in
God, faith in Christ, and in immediate communion with
Christ. Conviction of the Second Coming of the Lord
determined the conduct of the early Christians. Indeed,
that moral reformation and moral conduct were the dom
inating aims of the Christian communities is proved by
the following facts : the documents dealing with Chris
tian life of that time are almost wholly moral ; the
discipline upon the members was for moral and not doc
trinal reasons. Still these early Christians had some sim
ple doctrines, which were seemingly taken for granted;
and the danger is, to conceive the early Christians as
either (1) too sample or (2) too ignorant. They be
lieved that there is one God, that man has personal re
lations to God, that history has a dramatic course, that
THE HELLENIZING OF THE GOSPEL 303
right was God's command and absolutely different from
wrong, that the Last Judgment would surely come.
But about the middle of the second century Chris
tianity was obliged to change its attitude towards both
science and the State. Between 150 and 250 a great
change took place among the Christians. The docu
mentary records are full of doctrinal struggles, so that
little room was left for recording the struggles for moral
purity. Morality became subordinated to belief, and the
intellectual side of Christianity was emphasized at the
expense of the ethical. The Second Coming of our
Lord was less emphasized. This doctrine was either
pushed into the background or its realization was looked
upon as not immediate. Furthermore, the Christian
sect had spread over the empire and had come into posi
tive relations both with circles of culture and with polit
ical affairs. Various statistics of the numerical growth
of the Christians are given ; among them is the follow
ing statement : in 30 A. D. they numbered 500, in 100
A. D. 500,000, in 311 A. D. 30,000,000. In the second
century the self -justification of Christianity could no
longer be put upon the basis of the feelings and inner
convictions. It must justify itself to the world without,
and to its own cultured communicants as well. It was
being attacked by philosophy, and, unless its own fur
ther growth were to be thwarted, it found that it must
use the weapons of philosophy. Its increase of power
antagonized both the Roman state and Hellenistic cul
ture, and from 150 to 300 the fight between Christian
ity and the old world of things was to the death. Chris
tianity eventually conquered Rome and Hellenism ; but
this would have been impossible if it had maintained
its original attitude of indifference to culture. Its suo
304 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
cess was due to the wisdom that it has since so often
shown. It adapted itself to its new situation by taking
over and making its own the culture of the old world,
and by fighting the old world with that culture. Chris
tianity thereby shaped its own constitution into such
strength that it could obtain possession of the state with
Constantine in 300. From this impregnable political
position, it was able to deal with its rivals on an entirely
different footing. When old Rome fell in 476, the
church did not fall with it, but on the contrary it came
into possession of the city.
But this political success was the result and not the
cause of the growth of Christianity. It could never have
conquered so intrenched a government as Rome, if it
had not first been victorious over the more persistent
civilization of Greece. It made itself inherently strong
by Hellenizing itself — strong both for polemical and
for constructive purposes. But it is obvious that little
philosophical originality may be expected during this
period. When the church fathers began to employ Hel
lenistic philosophy, they took it on the whole as they
found it. They varied it only to suit their own legiti
mate purposes. Christianity entered the religious con
troversies of the time when victory would belong to the
sect which could use Greek civilization most effectively
in defending itself against the hostility of other reli
gions, and in constantly renewing the confidence of its
devotees.
But in the adoption of Hellenistic culture the church
created a new danger to itself. It must guard its own
conceptions lest they be smothered by this same Hel
lenism. It must keep its fundamental beliefs in their
integrity. Greek philosophy must be a servant so con-
THE HELLENIZING OF THE GOSPEL 305
strained as to bring out only the implicit meaning of
the fundamental Christian doctrines. Philosophy must
not corrupt these doctrines and transmute them into
Hellenism. The simple faith of the first century and its
doctrines must be so formulated by Hellenic wisdom
that it would be stated for all time. The church needed
a dogmatic system, a creed that could forestall any fu
ture innovations. The long series of O3cumenical councils
of the church, beginning with the Council of Nica?a in
325, were united efforts in this direction. After that
first council, dogma became more gradually fixed and,
from time to time, this and that group of men were
separated from the church as heretical.
Patristics is this philosophical secularizing of the
Gospel which accompanied the internal and external
development of the church body during the two or three
centuries after the year 150 A. D.
The Philosophies influencing Christian Thought.
The Greek philosophies most influential upon the de
velopment of Christian doctrine were Stoicism and neo-
Platonism. The philosophy of Philo was also influential,
but it was really only a bridge from philosophical Ju
daism to Christian theology. It contained both Stoicism
and Platonism in an unsymmetrical form, and Philo's
writings "contain the seeds of nearly all that after
wards grew up on Christian soil." l Greek philosophi
cal influence upon the early Christian world was felt
in two ways : in ethical theory and practice ; in the
construction of theology. During the fourth century
Stoic ethics of a Cynic type replaced the early Chris
tian ethics. The basis of Christian society was no longer
the ethics of the Sermon on the Mount, but rather that
i Hatch, Hibbert Lectures, 1888, p. 182.
306 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
of Roman Stoicism. This is shown by the character of
that book on morals (De Officiis Ministrorum) by
St. Ambrose, Bishop of Milan (340-397). In theology
the Christian doctrine had no need to borrow from the
Greeks the conception of the unity of God or that of
the creation of the world by God. But the Greek in
fluence is seen in the doctrines on subjects allied to
these : mainly on the questions of the mode of creation
and the relation of God to the material world. In the
discussion of these questions the influence of the Stoic
monism, tending toward dualism, and the influence of
Platonic dualism, tending toward a threefold conception
of God, Matter, and Form, will appear in the examples
which subsequently follow.
The most formidable opponent of Christianity dur
ing this time was neo-Platonism, but neo-Platonism and
Christianity were not, however, long separated. Although
neo-Platonism met its fate at the hands of scholasticism,
it influenced in a thousand ways both orthodox and
heretical Christianity. The rivalry of these two bodies
ended — and with it came the ending of the Hellenic-
Roman period of philosophy — in a complete and ori
ginal theology. This was the theology of St. Augustine,
who marks the end of antiquity and the beginning of
the Middle Ages.
The Periods of Early Christianity (30 A. D. -476 A. D.).
1. Introductory Period, 30-200.
(1) Period of Primitive Faith (during the 1st
century A. D.). With great simplicity of doc
trine and ceremonies the Christians were pre
paring through faith and the practice of vir
tue for the Second Coming of our Lord.
(2) Period of the Earlier Formulation and De*
THE HELLENIZING OF THE GOSPEL 307
fense of Christian Doctrine (during the 2d
century A. D.).
(a) The Apologists (2d century).
(6) The Gnostics (2d century).
(c) The Old Catholic Theologians (2d and
8d centuries).
2. Development Period (200-476).
(1) The Period of Actual Formulation of Doo
trine (200-325). The Catechetical School
of Alexandria — Origen (3d century).
(2) The Period of the Establishment of Dogma
(325-modern times) as seen in the Council of
Nicaea and other ecumenical councils. It was
a period in which church dogma was developed
on the basis of doctrine already established.
While the origin and development of the Christian
church is an interesting story in itself, only one aspect
of it is germane to the history of philosophy. That is
the influence of Hellenism upon the formation of the
theology of the church. The origin and development of
the church organization lies beyond our field. Also the
periods before the influence of Hellenism — the Period
of Primitive Faith during the first century, and the
period after dogma had become well established, the time
after the Council of Nicsea in 325 — will be omitted
from our discussion here. Only the period of the Earlier
Formulation and that of the Actual Formulation of Doc
trine, that is, the one hundred and seventy-five years
(150-325), are of interest to us. This time is known
in history by the name of the period of Patristics.
The Apologists. Only such Christians as were trained
in Greek philosophy could rally to the first defense of
the Christian doctrine. The new faith was, on the one
SOS HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
hand, on the defensive against the mockery of Greek
wisdom, and, on the other hand, it was obliged to take
a positive stand to show that it was the fulfillment of
the human need of salvation. The Apologists tried to
make the Christian teaching as consistent as possible
with the results of Greek philosophy and, at the same
time, to read into Greek philosophy Christian meanings.
They did not at all intend to Hellenize the Gospel, but
they wanted to make it seem a rational one to the cul
tured world. " Christianity is philosophy and revela
tion. This is the thesis of every Apologist from Aris-
tides to Minucius Felix." l Their very act of defense
was unintentionally the first step toward the incorpora
tion of Greek philosophy as a part of Christian teach
ing. The most important Apologists were Justin Mar
tyr (100-166), Athenagoras (d. 180), and among the
Romans Minucius Felix (about 200) and Lactantius
(d. 320). The life of Justin Martyr is characteristic.
He was born in Sichem, Samaria, but was Greek in
origin and education. Having investigated several sys
tems of philosophy and religion, he came to the con
clusion that the Christian religion was the only true
philosophy, and he died in defense of it at Rome.
To prove that Christianity is the only true philosophy,
the Apologists asserted that it alone guaranteed correct
knowledge and true holiness here and hereafter. They
proclaimed its preeminence because it is a perfect reve
lation of God through Jesus Christ. Since man is im
prisoned in the world of the senses and ruled by dae
mons, he can never be saved except through a perfect
revelation. To be saved is to become rational, and man
can become rational only by divine aid. Revelation has
1 Harnack, Outlines of the Hist, of Dogma, p. 120.
THE HELLENIZING OF THE GOSPEL 309
not been restricted to Christianity, but God's inspira
tion has been at work in all mankind. The truth in
Socrates, Plato, and Pythagoras has not been their own,
but has sprung from this same divine inspiration, for
truth never is the product of man's unaided reason.
Socrates and Plato got their truth in part from God's
direct revelation to them, in part indirectly from read
ing the works of Moses and the prophets. But revela
tion outside of Christianity has not been complete nor
continuous. The first perfect revelation was in Jesus
Christ, for He is the first to reveal the divine Logos com
pletely. He is the first in whom the Logos has become
man. He is the Son of God because the complete essence
of the inexpressible Deity is unfolded in Him.
The Apologists thus identified reason and revelation.
The Logos is the same in revelation, nature, or history.
The Stoic conception of the Logos, which Philo had
stripped of its materialistic character, was identified
with Christ and revelation. Justin could regard as in
spired what the Greeks had looked upon as natural in
their own doctrines. Christ is the world-reason, in whom
the divine has been incarnated, and the Apologists had
the enormous advantage over the neo-Platonists of being
able to point to Jesus as the definite and historical in
carnation of God. The Apologists could summon the
prevailing Platonic dualism of God and matter to their
aid in showing the need of such a revelation ; for mat
ter is altogether without reason and goodness. Thus a
summary of their doctrine is as follows : the world is
bad and needs a revelation ; the Logos of God has al
ways been present in history, but has especially appeared
in Jesus Christ, the man, in order to redeem men from
their sin and establish the kingdom of God.
310 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
The Gnostics. Gnosticism is the name applied to a
movement of hostile reconstruction of Old Testament
tradition instead of a spiritual interpretation of it. It
was a great syncretic movement in the second and third
centuries, which sought to form a world religion in which
men should be rated on the basis of what they intellect
ually and morally knew. The Gnostics tried to trans
form the Christian faith in a large way into know
ledge that would still be Christian ; and their efforts
show how strong the philosophical interest among the
Christians was beginning to be. The conditions for the
development of such a doctrine as Gnosticism were
everywhere present in the empire, yet two principal
centres are pointed out : one at Alexandria and the
other in Syria. Gnosticism was a most fanciful mix
ture of Oriental and Occidental cults and mythologies,
very much more fantastic than either neo-Pythagorean-
ism or neo-Platonism. It was a philosophy in which
the essential Christian principles were lost under the
weight of esoteric knowledge. The Gnostics themselves
were steeped in Hellenic culture, and in many localities
formed only bands of Mysteries. They finally lost all
sympathy with the Christians, and were classed as here
tics by the church. The leading Gnostics were Saturni-
nus, Carpocrates (about 130), Basilides, Valentinus
(about 160), and Bardesanes (155-225). Only a few
fragments of their many writings remain, and about all
that we know of their doctrines is what their opponents
say of them. Valentinus, the most notable, was born
at Rome and died at Cyprus. Bardesanes was born in
Mesopotamia. Carpocrates lived at Alexandria and was
a contemporary of Basilides, who was a Syrian. The
records of their careers are very meagre.
THE HELLENIZING OF THE GOSPEL 311
The Gnostics were the first philosophers of history.1
They undertook to make Christianity a world religion
by conquering Hellenic culture for Christianity and
Christianity for Hellenic culture. The only way they
could do this was by dislodging Christianity from its
historical anchorage in the Old Testament. The Gnos
tics were in open hostility to Judaism. They trans
formed every ethical problem into a cosmological prob
lem, they regarded human history as the continuation
of natural history, they viewed the Redemption as the
last act in the cosmic drama. This shows how closely
related their teaching was to that of Philo and Plotinus
and how consistent with the theoretic spirit of the
time. Since the salvation of the world by Christ stands
as the central point of their philosophy of history, their
philosophy of history amounted to a philosophy of
Christian history.
The victory of Christianity over paganism and Ju
daism was conceived allegorically by the Gnostics as the
battle of the gods of these religions. The Redeemer
was then conceived to appear at the psychological mo
ment and to win the victory ; and this appearance of
Christ as Redeemer is not only the highest point in
the development of the human race, but it is the de
nouement in the drama of the universe. Nature was
therefore conceived by them to be a battle-ground of
the gods and the strife to be waged between the forces
of good and evil. The good gets the victory by means
of Christ. The battle was conceived in the neo-Py-
thagorean form of the dualism of matter and spirit,
but was expressed in mythical terms. The heathen
gods and the god of the Old Testament, who took the
1 Windelband, Hist, of Ancient Phil., p. 357.
312 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
form of the Platonic demiurge, were the powers in the
world which the highest God had to overcome.
The dualism of good and evil was conceived to be
the same as between spirit and matter, and was elabo
rated in a fashion true to the Alexandrian school. The
space between God and matter was conceived to be
filled in by a whole race of daemons and angels, ar
ranged according to the Pythagorean numbers. The
lowest was so far from the divine perfectness as to be
in touch with matter, and he is the demiurge who
formed the world. The battle then was between good
and evil, light and darkness, until the Logos, the Nous,
Christ, the most perfect of the intermediary beings,
came down and by incarnation released from matter
the imprisoned spirits of men and even of the fallen
angels, like the demiurge. This is, in brief, the Gnostic
explanation of history.
This dualism was quite consistent with contemporary
Christian ethics, which had then become Stoic. But
this dualism was not consistent with monotheism, the
fundamental Christian principle. The internal danger
in Patristics — of swamping the fundamentals of
Christianity through Hellenizing them — appears thus
early. The early Christian found at the beginning an
antagonism between his fundamental monotheistic meta
physics and Greek dualistic ethics.
The Reaction against Gnosticism. — The Old
Catholic Theologians. We have seen that the original
position of the Christians was one of indifference to
both politics and philosophy ; that then came the em
ployment of Hellenism in the defense of the Gospel.
This resulted in the extreme attempt of the Gnostics
to transform Christianity into a factor in a cosmic the-
THE HELLENIZING OF THE GOSPEL 313
osophy. Gnosticism had tried to capture the new re
ligion by force and make it subserve the interests of
Hellenic and Oriental philosophy. This danger was
averted only after years of controversy. Gnosticism
was the gravest danger that the early church had to
meet, and the Gnostics left their mark upon the church,
although they were expelled ; for the church never re
turned to its original simplicity of doctrine. Gnosticism,
however, produced an extreme reaction, for a time,
against the use of philosophy, and was represented by
the"Old Catholic Theologians," — Iremeus (140-200),
Tertullian (160-220), and Hippolytus. These theo
logians stood against turning faith into a science and
tried to limit dogma to the articles of the baptismal
confession interpreted as a rule of faith. Tatian (170)
saw in Hellenism the work of the devil. Irenseus con
ceived a unity in the process of creation and redemp
tion, — creation as a divine method of bringing hu
manity up into the church by way of redemption.
Tertullian went so far as to affirm that the Gospel is
confirmed by its being in a certain sense contradictory
to reason. Credo quid dbsurdum. By this he means,
not that faith rests in things absurd, but that faith
rests in things so far above reason as to make reason
absurd. This reaction was against Gnosticism and not
against rationalism, for these men used both philosophy
and tradition to support their arguments.
The reaction against a systematic theology failed to
establish itself, for the need of Greek philosophy was
found to be necessary. The result was that a median
position was taken by the help of Greek philosophy
in the formulation of the dogma of the church. This
was scientifically stated by the Alexandrian School of
314 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
Catechists, of which Clement and Origen were the
leaders.
Origen (185-254) and the School of Catechists.
Origen, whose surname was Adamantine, was an early
teacher in the School of Catechists, which had been
under the direction of Clement. Like Plotinus, Origen
had been a pupil of Ammonius Saccas. Origen endured
much persecution on account of his teaching, and had
to flee from Alexandria to Caesarea and Tyre, where he
spent his old age. He was the most influential theolo
gian of the Eastern church, and he was the father of
Christian theological science.
In manner of life Origen was a Christian; in his
thought he was a Greek. He was the Christian Philo,
although he was a rival to the neo-Platonic philosophers.
His Christian theology competed with the philosophical
systems of his time. It was founded on both Testa
ments, and it also united in a peculiar way toward a
practical end the theology of both the Apologists and the
Gnostics. He was convinced that Christianity could
be expressed only as a science, and that any form of
Christianity without scientific expression is not clear tc
itself. Although the church was offended at some of
his doctrines, it made his philosophical principle and
his theory of development its own. In trying to state
Christianity in terms of intellectual knowledge, Origen
did not make the mistake of burying its principles
under philosophy or mythology, as was the case with
the Gnostics. The Gnostics had created a new Christian
ity ; Origen developed Christianity from within itself.
He was an orthodox traditionalist, a strong Biblical
theologian and idealistic philosopher. He maintained
that there were several ways of interpreting the Scrip-
THE HELLENIZING OF THE GOSPEL 315
tures (allegorical interpretation). The masses see only
the somatic or outward meaning as it has been devel
oped in history. A deeper or moral interpretation gives
a psychical meaning to the Gospel truth. More pro
found still is the spiritual interpretation, which gives to
the Gospels a pneumatic or spiritually esoteric meaning.
Christianity is superior to all other religions because it
is a religion for all classes, even for the common man.
Christianity is the only religion which, without being
polytheistic, can have its truth in mythical dress.
The aim of Origen was less to show how the world
came to be, than to justify the ways of God to men in
the world's creation and history. The central principle
in his teaching is spiritual monotheism. God is an un
changing spirit, the author of all things, and He tran
scends human knowledge. What distinguishes Him most
is the absolute causality of His will. He is essentially
creative, and this creative activity is co-eternal with Him
self. God can have no dealings with changing individ
uals directly, since although creative He is unchanging.
He has direct connection only with the eternal revela
tion of His own image, the Logos. The Logos is a per
son, a special hypostasis, the perfect likeness of God
with nothing corporeal about him. He is not the God,
but still God, yet a second God, with no sharing of
divinity.1 The Holy Spirit bears the same relation to
the Logos as the Logos to the Father. In his relation
to the world the Logos is the Idea of Ideas, the norm
according to which things are created.
Origen followed Philo in believing that the original
creation consists of a world of beings that are pure
intelligences, and that the cause of creation is God'a
1 Harnack, Outlines of the History of Dogma, p. 159.
316 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
goodness. He further believed that the Logos or Wis«
dom of God is God's Son. Both the creation of the
ideal world of intelligences and the existence of the Son
is from eternity. The origin of the visible world is to be
contrasted with this eternal creation. The visible world
had its beginning in time and is only one of a series of
worlds. It will finally return to God, and has in God its
beginning and end. Thus man lives in a visible world
of time with eternities on either side. Creation, viewed
as a whole, is everlasting, and consists of an endless
number of beings who are destined to become a part
of the divine holiness and to participate in the divine
blessedness. These beings are endowed with freedom of
will, and they fall away from God. The visible world of
matter has been created to purify the fallen spirits, and
in consequence we find materialized spirits graded into
angels, stars, mankind, and evil demons.
In his emphasis on the will as the fundamental
mental part of man, Origen is distinctly Christian and
opposed to Greek intellectualism. The will of God and
the will of man form the corner stone in his system.
The will of God is the eternal development of His
being, but the will of spirits is their temporal free
choice. The will of God is reality itself; the will of
spirits is phenomenal and changing. Freedom of the
will of the spirits is the ground of their sin, and con
sequently of their materiality. Thus it is by the free
dom of the spirits that Origen explains evil and the
existence of imperfect matter without impeaching the
eternal purity of God. Origen thus reconciled the ethi
cal transcendence of God as creator with his imma
nence in the material world. God is the creator without
being the creator of sin. Through the conception of
THE HELLENIZING OF THE GOSPEL 317
free-will Origen reconciled the two antithetical princi
ples, of Christian metaphysics : faith in divine omni
potence and consciousness of sin.
The function of the church is thus an important one
in the divine plan. For the fallen spirits try to rise bj
their own wills from the matter to which they are con
demned for purification. They never lose their divine
essence, however low they may falL They cannot rise
alone, nor are they compelled to, but they always have
the help of divine grace, which is always active within
man and has also been perfectly revealed in Jesus
Christ. After the manner of the Apologists, Origen
makes use of the Stoic and Platonic conceptions, for
the eternal Logos takes form in the divine-human unity
of Jesus. Through His physical suffering redemption is
made possible to all believers, and through His essence
illumination has been brought to those especially in
spired. There are different grades of redemption : faith,
or a religious understanding of the perceptual world ;
knowledge of the Logos ; final absorption in God. All
shall finally be saved through the combined forces of
freedom and Grace, and then shall all material existence
disappear.
The controversies within the church during the suc
ceeding centuries over the theory of Origen are theo
logical rather than philosophical, and so our account of
the relation of Greek philosophy to Christianity in the
Hellenic-Roman period closes here. Origen's under
taking was a private one, approved at first in only lim
ited circles and on the whole disapproved by the church.
In his scientific dogmatics the particular changes which
he planned pertain especially to the conception of sal
vation and the place of Christ in the universe. In his
318 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
teaching about Christ he emphasized more the cosmo*
logical than the soteriological aspect, but neither was
fully developed. The history of the early church shows
that Christianity seized the ideas of ancient philosophy
and insisted on revising them with its own religious
principle before it used them. We shall find that the
next period is introduced by a greater than Origen, in
whom again the Christian and the ancient worlds will
meet in new and richer combination, — St. Augustine.
BOOK II
THE MIDDLE AGES (476-1453)
CHAPTER XV
CHARACTERISTICS AND CONDITIONS OF THE
MIDDLE AGES
Comparison of the Hellenic-Roman Period and the
Middle Ages. The Middle Ages can be conveniently
remembered as approximately the 1000 years between
the fall of old Rome, in 476, and the fall of new Rome
(Constantinople) in 1453. Together these two period*
make a long and a philosophically unproductive stretch
of 1800 years. The intellectual materials which the two
periods possessed, differ but little, although during the
first half of the Middle Ages such materials were very
few. There is, however, a decided difference in the way
the two periods look at things. The ancient had started
with Aristotle's interest in knowledge for its own sake ;
the ancient had passed from that to the need of
knowledge in ethical conduct ; he had finally made use
of knowledge only in formulating religion. On the other
hand, the history of thought in the Middle Ages was
exactly the reverse. The medieval man starts satisfied
with religion as thus formulated by the preceding pe
riod, and seeks to regain pure knowledge. The perspec
tive in the two periods is therefore different. Hellenic
thought began in freedom and ended in tradition ; me
diaeval thought begins in tradition and, borne by the
youthful German, who brings with him few original
820 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
ideas, pushes forward toward freedom. No doubt one
can discover in mediaeval times many fresh transforma
tions of ancient thought and a new Latin terminology,
but, on the whole, all the problems of the Middle Ages,
as well as their solutions, can be found in antiquity.
One may find, too, the germs of modern thought in the
Middle Ages, but they come from mediaeval pupils and
not from mediaeval masters. In the Middle Ages hu
manity is again at school ; its problems appear in suc
cession, but they always are expressed in the conceptions
of the ancients.
The Mediaeval Man. Antiquity had brought together
three civilizations, — those of Greece, of Rome, and of
Christianity. Greek civilization in the form of an in
tellectual culture, called Hellenism, had been superim
posed upon Roman political society. The result was a
society with a twofold stratum, and in such a society the
Christian church had grown as an organization of con
trolling cultural and political influence. It was into this
society that the German barbarians, by a series of in
vasions, entered during the first three centuries of the
Middle Ages.
The Middle Ages began and antiquity ended when
these German tribes finally broke down the barriers of
the Roman empire. It was a new period ; for a new
race had taken upon itself the responsibility of bearing
the burden of the future of western Europe. The Ger
man was of course unconscious of the magnitude of his
self-imposed burden, for the German was young, vigor
ous, and moved by primitive instincts. He had leaped
into the world's fields as a conqueror ; he remained as
a laborer.
At the beginning the German seemed likely to de»
CONDITIONS OF THE MIDDLE AGES 321
stroy the entire product which antiquity had bequeathed.
He was quite unprepared to assimilate the rich fruits of
that ancient civilization. He had, indeed, less mind for
the elaborate forms of Greek philosophy than for the
lighter forms of Greek art. In his first contact he could
understand neither. Moreover ancient society was so
weak that it could not educate him, who was its con
queror, into its culture. Nevertheless, there was one ele
ment in that ancient society that did appeal to the
German. That was the spiritual power of the Christian
church. Alone amid the ruins of antiquity the power of
the church had grown so strong that the men of the
north bowed before it, and religion accomplished through
the emotions of the Germans what art, philosophy, and
statecraft failed to achieve. The preaching of the Gos
pel laid hold of the feelings of these primitive people,
for the church in its pretensions, and sometimes in fact,
represented the old Koman political unity. Moreover
the church was also the repository of what was left of
Greek science. The church expressed for the German
his own ideal of the personal inner life. The Germans
became the supporters of the church, and in this way
the protectors of ancient culture. Mediaeval history in
western Europe is therefore the record of the develop
ment of the Germans under the influence of the Chris
tian church. In contrast with the development of the
Eastern church, which was the development of a state
church, the Western church was the development of an
ecclesiastical state. The Western church, and not the
later empire, was the true successor of the Roman
empire. Thus the early beginnings of the Middle Ages
rested with the church, but the later development of the
Middle Ages rested with the German people.
322 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
How the Universe appeared to the Mediaeval Man.
The mediaeval man had very indistinct ideas about the
world around him, since his interest did not lie in the
earthly realm, but in the spirit that controlled it. He
was content in his sciences with conclusions without
their demonstrations. Although it is said that relations
of space and number are never indistinct in the mind
of the civilized man, the man of the Middle Ages cer
tainly did not possess such conceptions in so vigorous
a manner as to enable him to discover new truths. We
must, furthermore, make a sharper distinction between
mediaeval popular opinion and mediaeval scientific opin
ion than we should about popular and scientific opinion
of modern times ; for the results of science did not
reach the people then as now. To the ordinary mediaeval
man the world in which he lived was what it appeared to
be to his eye. The earth was flat ; the sky was a mate
rial dome, which sustained the waters of the world above
it. Through this sky-floor the water sometimes breaks
and the earth receives showers of rain. These popular
notions sometimes appeared in the verse of the time.
The mediaeval scientific opinion was based on the
theory of Ptolemy and his school of Alexandrian astro
nomers, who lived in the second century A. D., some de
tails to the theory having been added by the Arabians.
Ptolemy says, " The world is divided into two vast re
gions ; the one ethereal, the other elementary. The ethe
real region begins with the first mover, which accom
plishes its journey from east to west in twenty-four
hours ; ten skies participate in this motion, and their
totality comprises the double crystalline heaven, the fir
mament and the seven planets." (See diagram.) The
mediaeval man of science thought that, inasmuch as he
CONDITIONS OF THE MIDDLE AGES
323
was upon the earth, he was therefore standing at the
centre of things. Directly above him was the cavity of
the sky, ruled by the moon ; and below the moon were
the four elements, — fire, air, water, and earth. This
region was the realm of imperfection. But above the
M
?
PTOLEMAIC COSMOGRAPHY
A diagram showing the division of the universe into the ten spheres or heaven«
(From the private library of Profetaor R. W. Willion of Harrard Unitenitj)
moon the scientist saw a series of nine other heavens,
each with an orderly revolution of its own ; and beyond
all is God. The universe was therefore to Ptolemy a
great but a limited sphere, consisting of ten spheres
one inside another (like the rings of an onion). Each
324 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
planet moved with the motion of its own heaven (on
sphere), which was sometimes called " crystalline " be
cause it was transparent. The movements of the heav
enly bodies, each in its own revolving heaven, were
contained in the whole sphere, which revolved with a
motion of its own. By ascribing other movements to
the planets within their respective heavens, the medieval
astronomers were able to predict every conjunction and
eclipse to the minute. These separate movements of the
planets were called epicycles, the form of which is
shown in the diagram on the opposite page.
Such a scientific astronomy would easily lend itself
to the theological conceptions of the time. The realm of
perfection above the moon was supposed to be under
the direct supervision of God and to be inhabited by
spirits. Thus the conjunction and relation of the heavenly
bodies were thought to have influence upon human life,
and they furnished the basis of the astrology, necro
mancy, and spiritism so common in the Middle Ages.
The ninth heaven embraced all the others. It swept
around them all, without interfering with their own
special motions, and completed its revolution in twenty-
four hours. The ninth heaven was both the source and
the limit of all motion and all change. Beyond it lies the
eternal peace of God, which the Christian astronomer
regarded as " the abode of the blessed." This was called
the tenth heaven or the Empyrean. This, in Dante's
words, is " the heaven that is pure light ; light intellect
ual full of love, love of the good full of joy, joy that
transcends all sweetness." The tenth heaven is Paradise
and is within the life of God. It is important to note
that the Ptolemaic conception of the universe is the
background upon which Dante constructs his Divine
CONDITIONS OF THE MIDDLE AGES
325
Comedy (see diagram, p. 376),* and appears in part
at least as the cosmological basis of the Paradise
Lost of Milton. For thirteen centuries — from 200
to 1500 — conviction remained unshaken in the Ptole
maic system of astronomy as an adequate explanation
of the universe.
PTOLEMAIC COSMOGRAPHY
(Showing the Epicyclic Movements of Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars in respect
to the Earth)
The Mediaeval Man at School. In the eleventh and
twelfth centuries there was a revival in intellectual in
terests that was deep and broad, and the characteris-
* Read Rossetti, Shadow of > Dante >, pp. 9-14 ; Karl Witte,
Essays on Dante, pp. 99 ff.
326 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
tics of this revival will be discussed subsequently (see
Transitional Period, p. 329). Our curiosity, however, is
aroused upon our entrance into the Middle Ages, as to
what the man of the early Middle Ages studied and how
much he learned. We must remind ourselves at the out
set of the oft-repeated fact that, on the whole, in west
ern Europe, for the first five hundred years of the
Middle Ages, the only people who had any book-learning
were the churchmen. Furthermore, with them the learn
ing was very meagre. Their purpose in study will show
this, for it was to enable them " to understand and ex
pound the Canonical Scriptures, the Fathers, and other
ecclesiastical writings." The training was as follows : —
1. Theological. Elementary instruction in the Psalms
and church music, but no systematic training in theo
logy, — just enough training to enable the priest to
understand the Bible and the Church Fathers.
2. Secular training. Knowledge in the " Seven
Liberal Arts," i. e. the trivium, — grammar, rhetoric,
and dialectic ; and the more advanced quadrivium, —
music, arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy. These
names are suggestive of a vast amount of knowledge,
while, in truth, very little was known or taught in these
subjects. Astronomy and arithmetic were employed to
find the time of Easter. Geometry included some pro
positions of Euclid without demonstrations. Music in
cluded plain song and a mystic doctrine of number.
More was made of grammar, the study of rhetoric from
Latin classics, and dialectics. Dialectics was logic in
the Middle Ages, and its mysteries fascinated the
mediaeval man. But even in logic there were only some
remnants of the Aristotelian logic known.
A Mediaeval Library. Here again is an interesting
CONDITIONS OF THE MIDDLE AGES 327
question: What did this mediaeval churchman read?
But we must make a distinction between books most
commonly read, books that the scholars might use, and
books most influential upon thought.
1. Books most commonly read. These would be the
text-books used in instruction. They are as follows : —
The Psalms.
The Grammar of Donatus.
The Christian poets : Prudentius, Psycliomachia ; Ju-
vencus, Gospels in Verse ; Sedulius, Easter Hymn.
Dionysius Cato, Disticha de Moribus^ a collection of
proverbs (moral maxims) in rhyming couplets.
Virgil, Ovid, and the rhetorical works of Cicero.
M sop's Fables (in Latin).
2. Books that the scholars might use. It is difficult
to say what any particular scholar actually did read, for
the libraries of monasteries differed enormously in the
character and number of their books ; some monasteries
had several hundred books, some none at all. Some libra
ries were composed almost entirely of works of the
Fathers ; some possessed a good many works of ancient
classical writers. One might expect to find any one or
more of the following works in a scholar's library : —
Aristotle, De Interpretatione and the Categories in
Boethius' translation.
This explains why the logical problems occupied
the almost exclusive attention of the first schoolmen.
Plato, the Timceus.
This was known to the Irish monks perhaps in
Greek, but on the continent in a translation by Chal-
cidius. The only other sources of knowledge of Plato
were in the works of Augustine and the neo-Platon-
ists.
328 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
Commentaries on Aristotle, — The Isagoge by For-
phyry, in a translation into Latin by Boethius, and
some commentaries by Boethius himself on Aristotle's
De Interpretation and Categories.
Cicero, the rhetorical and dialectical treatises, such as
the Topica, De Officiis.
Seneca, De Beneficiis.
Lucretius, De Rerum Natura.
Augustine's works and some pseudo-Augustinian writ
ings.
The works of the Church Fathers, Clement of Alexan
dria and Origen.
The Pseudo-Dionysius, translated from the Greek by
Erigena.
The encyclopedic collections of some of the last of the
scholars of antiquity, like Cassiodorus, Capella, Boe
thius, and the Etymologies of Isidore of Seville.
3. The Books most influential philosophically upon
the time. These were not necessarily the books most
widely read, but the epoch-making books, so to speak.
They were as follows : —
Augustine, City of God.
Boethius, Consolation of Philosophy.
Aristotle, De Interpretations and the Categories in
translation by Boethius.
Pseudo-Dionysius, translated by Erigena.
Porphyry, Isagoge translated by Boethius, an introduc
tion to Aristotle's Categories.
The Three Periods of the Middle Ages.
1. Early Period, 476-1000.
2. Transitional Period, 1000-1200.
3. Period of Classic Scholasticism, 1200-1453.
There is one great natural division line of the Middle
CONDITIONS OF THE MIDDLE AGES 329
Ages, the year 1200. At this time the surging of the
western peoples eastward in the Crusades was at its
height, and the works of Aristotle were coming into west
ern Europe from the East. These events mark a change
in the political and intellectual situation in Europe. But
this change did not take place suddenly. There are in
tervening two centuries that are indeed transitional, but
at the same time are animated by a distinct and inde
pendent philosophical motive. These two centuries may
be set apart as a period, different from the earlier and
the later periods. We shall call these three periods the
Early Period, the Transitional Period, and the Period
of Classic Scholasticism.
The Early Period takes us from the fall of old Eome
(476) to the birth of modern political Europe (1000).
It is a period of religious faith governed by the theo*
logy of Augustine. Mysticism has no independent fol
lowing, but on the contrary rules within the church.
The Christian principle of individual personality and
the Greek Platonic conception of universal realities are
not fused, but they are held without arousing contra
versy. This is because the human reason has no stand
ard code, nor does it yet feel the need of one. The only
two philosophers, Augustine and Erigena, of the period
are animated by neo-Platonism.
The Transitional Period extends from, the birth of
political Europe (1000) to the arrival of the works of
Aristotle (about 1200). This epoch is one of logical
controversy, in which the Christian and the Greek mo
tives conflict. This controversy gives rise to the first
group of great schoolmen, who discuss the reality of
general ideas in their application to dogma. Mysticism
still rules the churchman, but now in a modified form,
330 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
Plato has become the standard of the reason in orthodox
circles and Aristotle in those inclined to heresy, but
as yet only fragments of the works of either are known.
The Period of Classic Scholasticism extends from
1200 to the end of the Middle Ages (1453). It is a
period when a theological metaphysics arises by the
side of the logical controversy and predominates over
that controversy. The problem now concerns the re
spective scopes of the reason and faith. The period is
Aristotelian, and Aristotle's philosophy is made the
standard code for the churchman for all time. Mysticism
has now no place of authority in the church, but has an
independence. The period contains the greatest school
men of the Middle Ages.
Summary of the Political and Educational Worlds of
the Mediaeval Man.
I. Early Period, 476-1000.
395 The Koman empire di- (Augustine, 354-430)
vided into Eastern
and Western empires.
476 Fall of the Western 476-800 Disappearance
empire, the Eastern of municipal and im-
empire lasting about perial schools and rise
1000 years longer. of episcopal
375-600 Northern barba- and
rians overrun the monastic schools.
Western empire in
series of invasions. 525 Boethius died, the last
600 Koman power almost notable Roman scho-
entirely in hands of lar who knew Greek.
barbarians. 529 Closing of philosophi
cal Schools at Athens ;
CONDITIOl^ OF THE MIDDLE AGES 331
622-732 Mohammedans
conquer Arabia,
Northern Africa, and
Spain.
732 Mohammedans re
pulsed at the battle
of Tours.
600-800 Fusion took
place among German
and Roman peoples.
800 Empire of Charle
magne founded. Civ
ilization higher than
the German, lower
than the Roman.
900-1000 Empire of
Charlemagne broken
up. Demoralization.
Invasions by Danes
and Northmen from
the north; Saracens
from south by sea;
Slavs, Hungarians,
Russians, and Poles
by land. The church
demoralized, Papacy
founding of monastic
school by St. Benedict.
476-800 Dark Ages.
800-1000 Benedictine
Age : only period in
We stern JZurope
when education is
entirely in hands
of monks. The Pal
ace school ; episcopal,
cathedral, and monas
tery schools.
(Erigena, 810-88V,
the forerunner of
Scholasticism.)
900-1000 Dark century
with decline of learn
ing.
IN THE EARLY PERIOD AND
THE TRANSITIONAL
PERIOD LITTLE OP
PLATO WAS KNOWN
332
HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
temporarily
pears, feudalism
places empire.
re-
EXCEPT IN THE FORM
OF NEO-PLATONISM
AND LITTLE OF ARIS-
II. Transitional Period, 1000-1200.
1000 France and Ger
many get their first
form as nations just
before this year ; Eng
land just after. Be
ginning of new birth
of Europe, caused by
conversions of north
ern nations, by en
lightened rule of the
Ottos, by regenera
tion of Papacy, by
development of civic
life.
Beginning of politi
cal order, ecclesiasti
cal discipline, and
social tranquillity.
Revival of architec
ture followed by re
newal of art. The Ro
manesque appeared
about 1000, the
Gothic about 1150.
Poetry of Trouveres
in north and of Trou
badours in south.
TOTLE EXCEPT OF
FRAGMENTS OF HIS
LOGIC.
First Scholasticism.
(Anselm, 1033-1109)
(Roscellinus,d.lllO)
(Abelard,1079-1142)
1000 Passion for inquiry
takes the place of the
old routine.
1160-1200 Traces of the
origination of the
earliest universities.
1150-1250 Translation
into Latin directly
from Greek of the
works of Aristotle,
previously unknown
in Western Europe.
CONDITIONS OF THE MIDDLE AGES
333
III. Period of Classic
1200 Crusades at their
height.
1200-1453 Commerce of
Europe with Asia be
gins to grow to large
proportions in coun
tries on the Mediter
ranean. The Third
Estate grows in
strength, national
governments prevail
over the feudal system
Scholasticism, 1200-1453.
1200 The Mendicant
Friars.
Classic Scholasticism*
(T h o m a s Aquinas,
1224-1274.)
(Duns Scotus, 1270-
1308.)
(William of Ockam,
1280-1349.)
1300-1453 The period is
well supplied with
. schools.
1350-1453 Deterioration
of Scholasticism,
CHAPTER XVI
THE EARLY PERIOD OF THE MIDDLE AGES (476-1000)
The General Character of the Early Period. It is no
accident that these five hundred years of the Middle
Ages were spiritualistic. Both the political disturbances
and the intellectual inheritance from the Hellenic-Ro
man period made the period such. The troubles during
the long death agony of the Roman empire had de
prived the people of their interest in this world. The
world of kingdoms and material things presented no
ideals ; and the age would have been pessimistic had
not the Church through Augustine presented a heavenly
ideal and the means to win that ideal. Both what the
material world had taken away from man and what the
spiritual seemed to offer him, made the age an age of
faith. The principle of inner spirituality was moved to
a central position. All things pointed to the super
natural and the transcendent. Men dwelt upon the
nature of God, the number and rank of the angels, the
salvation of the soul. In this, as in the Transitional
Period following, little was known of Aristotle except
some fragments of his logic ; and little was known of
Plato except in the form of neo-Platonism. But in this
period (before the year 1000) the pupil was instructed
in both Aristotle and Plato, and held them both to
gether without controversy. Mysticism had little inde
pendence of church doctrine, as appears in the case of
Erigena, the consequences of whose doctrine were not
at first seen. The monastery became the fundamental
EARLY PERIOD O* THE MIDDLE AGES 335
social organization and the central social force. Organ
ized ascetic life permitted an absorbing contemplation
of heaven. Prayer superseded thought ; faith prescribed
knowledge. The intellectual world was dominated by neo-
Platonic idealism, and the all-important topic in men's
minds was that of God's grace. Augustine stood at
the beginning of the period and organized its concep
tion of grace for it. Erigena stood near the end and stated
the neo-Platonism of the period in extreme form, pre
senting the issue for the scholasticism of the many years
MEDLEVAL GEOGRAPHY. THE COSMAS MAP, A. D. 647
from 1. KCMM'I Evolution of Gtograp\y
(Cosmas was an Egyptian monk who had once been a merchant and traveler. He
did not use the records of his own travels to supplement the Oreek and Roman plans,
but he laid down as a fact that the earth is flat. Then he piously adduced evidence
from the Scriptures to support his view. The maps drawn by Cosmas are the earliest
Christian maps that have survived. Their crudeness, compared with the maps of the
Romans and Arabs, reveals the low state of knowledge among the Christians.)
to come. The presentation of the doctrine of these two
men will therefore be the philosophical exemplification
of the attitude of the time.
The Historical Position of Augustine. The Middle
Ages were inaugurated by a mind of the highest order,
336 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
• — Augustine.* If one were to select the most influential
figures in the history of philosophy, Augustine might
be chosen to stand with Plato, Aristotle, Spinoza, and
Kant. " In some respects Augustine stands nearer to
us than Hegel and Schopenhauer." 1 For the church,
but no less for the period, it was a fortunate circum
stance that Augustine should have lived just as anti
quity was closing and the medieval period beginning.
Through him the various influences of the past were
gathered up and presented in a scientific statement for
the Middle Ages. " The history of piety and of dogma
in the West was so thoroughly dominated by Augus
tine from the beginning of the fifth century to the era
of the Reformation, that we must take this whole time
as forming one period." 2
In his relation to antiquity Augustine drew especially
upon the fundamental teachings of St. Paul, the neo-
Platonists, and the Patristics for the presentation of his
own doctrine. He was familiar with a great number of
the doctrines of antiquity, and was the medium of their
transmission to the Middle Ages. He does not seem to
have known the system of Aristotle, but the importance
which he attached to the dialectic in the explanation of
the Scriptures contributed a good deal to the use of the
logic of Aristotle by the scholastics of the Middle Ages.
He had some knowledge of the Pythagoreans, the Stoics,
and the Epicureans through the writings of Cicero.
But the most important philosophical influence upon
* Read Eucken, Problem of Human Life, pp. 219-221,
232, 236, 245-248 ; Turner, Hist, of Philosophy, p. 226 ; De
Wulf , Hist, of Mediceval Phil., pp. 90-98 ; Harnack, Hist,
of Dogma, vol. v, pp. 3—6.
1 Eucken, Problem of Human Life, p. 247.
2 Harnack, Hist, of Dogma, vol. v, p. 3.
EARLY PERIOD OF THE MIDDLE AGES 337
Augustine was the neo-Platonic teaching of Plotinus
and Porphyry. Neo-Platonism, the Pauline theology,
and the Patristic are the large factors in the doctrine
of Augustine.
In his relation to the Middle Ages, what in brief was
the position of Augustine ? By means of neo-Platonism
and a discriminating psychological analysis he trans
formed the previous belief in God as a judye into a
belief in the personal relations between God and man.
That is to say, he carried out monotheism spiritually,
and in doing this the influence of neo-Platonism is very
strong in him. Augustine made one of the centres of
his teaching the living relation of the soul to God. He
took religion out of the sphere of cosmological science,
where it had been placed by Origen and the Gnostics,
and made it personal. Furthermore, he offered with this
new ideal a plan of salvation ; for Augustine made it
his task to show (1) what God is, and (2) what the
salvation of the soul requires. Whereas before Augus
tine the only dogmatic scheme had presented the place
and function of Christ in salvation, Augustine was in
terested in the place of man in salvation. Thus he
elaborated monotheism into spiritual monotheism and
delineated the inward processes of the Christian life, i. e.
of sin and grace. This important advance made by
Augustine must be attributed to the influence of philo
sophy — neo-Platonism — upon him.
But it must not be supposed that the total teaching
of Augustine and the total influence of his thought is
contained in this single change in Christian piety, as
we have stated it. The various Pagan and Christian
elements, as they lie in his system, have little coherence;
and Augustine does not settle the rival claims between
338 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
them. As the mediaeval period advanced, what in his
teaching had been a mere incoherence became in the
hands of others positive discord. He gave the church
impulses of the highest spiritual quality, but he left no
well-organized capital. These impulses toward spiritual
piety have never been lost, but the profusion of ideas
and views in Augustine, unharmonized by himself, were
also a permanent bequest to posterity that produced
both vital movements and violent controversies. The le
gal and moral party of the church resisted his teaching
at the beginning, and in the sixth century, under the
influence of Gregory the Great, toned down Augustine's
teaching in the direction of a conception of the church
as a juristic organization.
Augustine was thus the beginner of a new line of
development by his incorporation of neo-Platonism into
Christian doctrine and by his use of the dialectic to
present, defend, and develop the doctrine of the church.
Although the years of his life fall in antiquity, although
he is the collector of all the threads of the neo-Platonic
and Christian religions, he belongs in the Middle Ages
as the teacher of the Middle Ages. His doctrine acted
as an authoritative spiritual guide for the new German
peoples. They took up the problems of antiquity from
the new point of view of individual spirituality, and
created out of them the philosophy of the future. But
philosophically Augustine was far in advance of his age,
and in the intellectually torpid times that followed him
little philosophical development could be expected. Not
until after Charlemagne does philosophical development
springing from Augustine appear. Later Luther and
the Reformation reverted to him, and our modern phi
losophy is founded on the principle which he made cen
tral in his conception of piety.
EARLY PERIOD OF THE MIDDLE AGES 339
The Secular Science. At the same time it must not
be supposed that the teaching of Augustine was by any
means the only source from which this first period of
the Middle Ages drew its materials of knowledge. A
glance at the list of books in a mediaeval library (see
p. 327) will not confirm such a supposition. Augustine
does not include in his doctrine — massive as it is — all
the factors that finally made up mediaeval civilization.
Even at the beginning there was a tendency toward
secular science derived from Plato and Aristotle. No
ticeable as this was at first it became prominent later.
Secular science tried at first to modify scholasticism,
and then later to gain an independence for itself. The
doctrine of Augustine did not contain the germs of sci
ence. But at the start the Middle Ages had writings
on science in the inadequate compendiums of Capella,
Cassiodorus, and Boethius, and in the fragments of the
logic of Aristotle.
The Life of Augustine (354-430). Aurelius Au
gustine, often called " the Plato of Christianity," was
born in Thagaste, Numidia. His father was a Pagan,
his mother a Christian ; and it was his mother who con
tributed chiefly to the formation of his character. He
was a boy of brilliant gifts, and was educated in the
schools of Madaura and Carthage. At Carthage his life
was full of dissipation, which he has described in his
Confessions. He took up in succession all the scientific
and religious problems of his time. He gave up the
teaching of rhetoric, which he had practiced in several
towns in Asia Minor and Italy, and began to study
theology. He was troubled by his religious doubts and
tried to find relief first in Manichasism, then in the
skepticism of the Academy, and then in neo-Platonism.
340 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
He was converted to Christianity through three influ
ences : his study of Plato, the eloquence of St. Ambrose,
and the unremitting moral influence of his mother. He
became a priest, then a bishop, and was untiring in his
activity both in the practical organization of the church
and in the theoretical construction of its doctrines. He
was especially active in his literary attempts to refute the
Pelagian and ManichaBan heresies, whose doctrines he
had previously professed. His life falls at the time when
the barbarian invasions were beginning and when Rome
was crumbling. Moved by his Platonic idealism, he wrote
his City of God, which, in an elaborate philosophy of his
tory, shows that God's city is not on earth, but in heaven.
The Two Elements in Augustine's Teaching. The
great masses of thought in Augustine's mind reveal
motion in two directions. On the one hand, he is the
theologian who holds on high the conception of the
authority of the church. On the other hand, he is the
philosopher who speaks for the principle of immediate
certainty for the individual. These are two foci about
which his thought is in constant flux and often in con
tradiction. Augustine has, therefore, two criteria for
truth : the truth that comes from an authority without,
and the truth that comes from consciousness itself.
The authority of the church and the authority of the
immediate consciousness of the individual — these are
the two central thoughts in Augustinianism. Augus
tine's conception of the authority of the church acted
upon him as a lofty ideal which both inspired and at
the same time constrained his speculations. As he grew
older he gravitated more and more toward it, and
thereby became more conservative. But it was the other
central thought — the authority of immediate conscious-
EARLY PERIOD OF THE MIDDLE AGES 341
ness — which he made the basis of a philosophy of
original power. Through this he transcended his own
time and became himself a modern, leading the Middle
Ages up to him.
Augustine did not define accurately the spheres of
philosophy and theology. He did not show whether
reason or revelation had the higher authority. He did
not try to decide between the intelligo ut credam and
credo ut intelligam, that is, between the respective
authorities of reason and faith. That became, in conse
quence, a central philosophical problem for the school
men. Nevertheless, the great inheritance which Augus
tine left the world was along the philosophical line of
intelligo ut credam (of knowledge as the basis of faith
instead of faith as the basis of knowledge).
The Neo-Platonic Element : the Inner Certainties
of Consciousness. Augustine was not original in making
the starting-point of his philosophy the inner certainties
of consciousness. That was the point of view of his time,
and the starting-point of the ascetic tendency both of
Christianity and of neo-Platonism. He was dissatisfied
with the world without, and turned away from it to the
world within to find reality. But this had been a grow
ing tendency ever since the time of Plato. Augustine's
originality lies in his psychological description of these
certainties. He is the master of self -observation and
introspection. He can describe inner experiences as well
as analyze them. He puts his philosophy upon a solid
anthropological basis by developing a psychology of the
certainties of consciousness. In doing this he placed the
inner experience in the central position of control. Thus
he reached a well-defined position of " internality " for
which the Stoics, Epicureans, neo-Platonists, and the
542 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
preceding Christian theologians had been groping ; thus
he anticipated Descartes and modern philosophy.
Man clings to life in spite of all its evils. This shows
that there is a reality for the soul. The material world
may pass away, but the reality of soul-life is assured.
Man's inner life is ever present and cannot be imagin
ary. The fact that there is such a thing as probability
implies the existence of certainty. Where shall I look
for certainty ? In myself. Certainty is there as a fact of
inner observation. There are my inner mental states —
my sensations, feelings, etc., whose existence cannot be
doubted even if the existence of the objects to which
they correspond is doubted. I am certain also of my
own consciousness at that moment. To doubt my exist
ence is to assert my existence. To doubt also implies
that I will remember, live — for doubt rests upon these
former ideas. The temporary character of the material
world only strengthens the reality of this inner world.
The existence of the material world cannot be demon
strated, and so man is driven inward to find a basis for
its reality. Thus by a deep insight, although without
much logical reasoning, Augustine transcends Aristotle,
and anticipates modern thought by finding reality in
the unitary personality^ whose existence is an inner
certainty.
But Augustine is driven farther inward ; for the cer
tainty of the existence of God is involved in this inner
certainty. My doubt about the character of the world
of material things implies that their truth exists and
that I have the capacity for measuring it. Such truths
are universal. They transcend the individual conscious
ness, and their mutual agreement unites all rational
beings in a common standard. On the other hand, this
EARLY PERIOD OF THE MIDDLE AGES 343
unity of truths implies the existence of God. Truths
are the Ideas (Platonic) in God's mind.1
Full knowledge of God is denied to man in this life,
but, nevertheless, all morality consists in love for God ;
all science is only an interest in the working of God in
nature ; all the beauty in the world around us points to
the harmonious ordering of God ; the history of the
world is only the free act of God. Thus, in brief, does
Augustine centralize the principle of inner spirituality
— of " internality." Thus does he put into control the
certainty of consciousness.
This was Augustine's great contribution to the
world both in the sphere of philosophy and religion.
We shall see how important this principle is in our
tracing of modern philosophy. Its importance upon the
growth of religion was so very great that we cannot
pass it by without remark. " Augustine was the re
former of Christian piety." In the midst of religion he
discovered religion. He looked into the human heart
and found it to be the lower good ; he looked to God
and found Him to be the higher good. In love for
God, man becomes exalted to another being. This is
the " new birth." By this personal religion nature and
grace are separated, but morality and religion are
united. Sin is the disposition to be independent by liv
ing in a state of unrest in the desires. Sin is a state of
lust and fear. All is sin in the heart of the natural
man — in the heart apart from God. The pre-Augus-
tinian religion of morality and baptism, animated by
i There is this difference between Augustine's position and that of
Descartes. Augustine's Quod sifallor, sum is a refutation of the doctrine
of probability of the Academy, not a demonstration ; Descartes' Cogito,
ergo sum is positive, — a subtle but an important difference between
^he two thinkers.
344 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
hope and fear, was supplanted by him with the concep
tion of the desire to be happy by sharing in the bliss
of God. Augustine passed from Christian pessimism to
Christian optimism, to a confidence in pardoning grace.
By faith and love God calls us back to himself and the
soul acquires what God requires. Religion is personal
and a thing of the heart. " Love, unfeigned humility,
and strength to overcome the world, these are the ele
ments of religion and its blessedness ; they spring from
the actual possession of the loving God. This message
Augustine preached to the Christianity of his time and
of all times." l
But Augustine philosophically breaks with his own
Platonism at one point, and finds not in the intellect,
but in the will, the primary characteristic of this con
sciousness of inner certainty. The will is the inmost
core of our being. All our mental states are formed
under the direction of the purposes of the will. The
striking exception to this is the cognition of the higher
divine truth, in the presence of which the mind can be
only passive. Revelation cannot be the production of
the finite activity, but it is an act of grace before which
the will is expectant and passive. Knowledge of the
divine truths of the reason Is the blessedness that re
sults from the will of God and not of man. The will of
man is transformed into faith, and yet even then an
element of the human will is present, although passive,
for the appropriation of the truth is an act of will.
Thus, in regard to this difficult subject of the nature
of the will, there are two observations to be made : (1)
Augustine conceives the will, memory, and intellect ag
so intimately related as not to be faculties of the per-
1 Harnack, Hist, of Dogma, vol. v, p. 337.
EARLY PERIOD OF THE MIDDLE AGES 345
sonality like the properties of a substance. They rather
form an indissoluble unity of the substance of the soul.
(2) The will is theoretically free, and Augustine is one
of the most forcible defenders of free-will because he is
also a defender of ethical responsibility and the justice
of God. Theoretically the will is a force existing above
sensuous nature and formally possesses the capacity of
following or resisting inclination. Actually it is never
free to choose, but it has the higher function of being
determined by the Good. Only the good will is free.1
The Authority of the Church according to Augus
tine. With the fall of ancient Rome, the church was
hard pressed, for the young peoples who came into the
church were Arian and the only German Catholic na
tion was the Franks. Augustine was a man of vigor,
but he seemed to lack the peculiar power of forcing the
church to adopt as dogma the truths for which he stood.
He always submitted himself absolutely to the tradi
tion of the church, and yet in a general way he accom
plished two things for the church at large : (1) He
established tradition as the authority and law of the
church ; (2) He offered the church a scientifically con
structed plan of salvation.
There now appears in Augustine's teaching the
second centre around which the masses of his thought
group themselves. This is his conception of the church
in its authority and law. Here is the principle of uni
versality — and historical universality — and it runs
counter to the principle of spiritual individualism which
his psychological analysis had built up. Augustine is
just as vigorous a champion of the idea of the church
as the means to salvation as he is champion of the indi-
1 Harnack, Hist, of Dogma, vol. v, p. 112, n. 4.
346 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
vidual certainty of truth. The two antithetical proposi
tions lie together in his mind. Asa pietist, he was an
individualist ; as a priest, he was a loyal subject to
dogma. We have discussed his teaching as it centred
about man ; now the discussion centres about God as
represented by His church. In practical life the will of
man is important, but in the eternal life the central in
fluence is the grace of God. Between the will of man
and the grace of God there is a chasm. This is felt the
more by Augustine, and the necessity of a God-centred
doctrine seems the greater, when he beholds the contrast
between the perfectness of God and the evil world of
men. Evil now appears to him as a great stream flow
ing through the world. Humanity is by nature void of
God. Theoretically man is free, but in the actual world
he is chained to his senses and to sin. Adam, the first
man, alone could have possessed freedom ; but Adam
in his freedom sinned, and his sin was that of the whole
human race. Sin is therefore original to all men now
living, and no man personally deserves salvation, how
ever meritorious his conduct. Moreover, as the result
of Adam's sin, all men would be damned were it not
for the grace of God. The God-man by death brought
power to replenish empty humanity with divine love.
Divine love is the beginning, middle, and end of salva
tion. Out of this love God has sent His Son and
founded His church. Universal man died, and only
universal man can save. Belief in Christ is the only
means of salvation, yet belief in Christ comes only by
God's grace, and divine grace is not conditioned on
human worthiness. Thus it is only by grace even now
that man is saved ; and no injustice would be done
to men were all damned. On the other hand, divine
EARLY PERIOD OF THE MIDDLE AGES 347
justice demands that some men at least should be ex
cluded from salvation in order that the punishment
for Adam's sin be permanently maintained. The choice
of the favored ones depends entirely upon the unsearch
able decree of God. These are elected as monuments
of His loving grace, while the others are elected to be
damned as monuments of His justice. The apparent
calamity to the majority of mankind only shows the
goodness of God the more. For, in the first place, evil is
not positive like the good. It is only negative and prim
itive — the absence of the good. The condemnation of the
wicked is therefore no defect in this theocratic system.
In the second place, the wicked only receive justice,
for the salvation of only a few is a gratuitous act of
love, which testifies to God's mercy. But, after all, it is
the integrity of the whole spiritual imperial govern
ment of God that is the important thing to consider.
The King is law and goodness, and all His subjects
are testimonies of His magnificent power.
The Dark Ages (476-800). The traditional estimate
of the Middle Ages as altogether " dark " has been re
vised by modern scholars. The period now called the
Dark Ages has been restricted to the three hundred
years between the fall of old Rome (476) and the
founding of the empire by Charlemagne (800). More
over, it is now thought that even in that period the
intellectual conditions were better in Italy than north
of the Alps. In northern Italy the lay teacher seems
always to have existed ; and education never to have
fallen entirely into the hands of the monastery as it did
in northern Europe between 800 and 1000. After 800
the content of education north and south of the Alps
seems to have been different. Everywhere, to be sure,
348 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
education was comprised by the " seven liberal arts,"
but the emphasis in the two regions was different.
North of the Alps the dialectic was made important, and
theology and logic flourished. In Italy the emphasis was
upon grammar and rhetoric, and " literary Paganism "
was always kept alive. Thus, when the revival came in
1200, it appeared in the form of theological controversy
north of the Alps, while in Italy in the form of legal
science. The analysis in the summary of the Middle
Ages given above (see p. 330) applies more truthfully to
the northern countries than to Italy. At the same time
it is more pertinent to the history of thought, for in
these northern regions, especially at Paris, medieval
philosophy was developed.
Nevertheless, it is easy for the modern scholar to go
too far in trying to play fair with the Middle Ages.
The first three centuries of this time were a Dark Age
everywhere in Europe. Wave after wave of barbarian
invasion swept over the land. It is not so much a mat
ter of surprise that four hundred years lie between the
first two philosophers, — but the matter of surprise is
that there were any philosophical fruits whatever. In
this respect the year 529 is significant — significant
both in pointing backward to ancient culture and also
in pointing forward to the feeble effort to retain some
of that culture. In 529 Justinian abolished the philo
sophical Schools at Athens; in 529 also, St. Benedict
founded his monastic school at Monte Cassino (near
Naples). These two events stand for the death of an
tiquity and the birth of mediaeval life. In this begin
ning of the monastic movement by St. Benedict in
western Europe was lodged, as it turned out, the hope
of education for the mediaeval man. During the two
EARLY PERIOD OF THE MIDDLE AGES 519
hundred years between the year 800 and the year 1000
mediaeval education was entirely in the hands of the
monks.
The Revival of Charlemagne (800-900). The dark-
ness of the Early Period of the Middle Ages is broken
by the somewhat abortive renaissance of Charlemagne.
Connected with this revival is the name of John Scotus
Erigena (810-880). Note that during these five hun
dred years there are only two notable philosophers,
Augustine and Erigena. Note that a span of four hun
dred years lies between them. Also note that the first
philosopher, Augustine, was a Roman and the second,
Erigena, was an Irishman. Thereby hangs a tale. Dur
ing all those long centuries of the Dark Ages after
Augustine and until Charlemagne, the light of science
shone scarcely in northwestern Europe. In the whole
western hemisphere there were only three places where
learning prospered : one was in the far east, among the
Arabians ; another was at Constantinople ; the third
was in the far west, in Britain. Thus it was from Britain
that Charlemagne had to call his educators, Alcuin and
Clement, to promote learning among the Franks ; and
it was from Britain, too, that his successor, Charles
the Bald, called the Irishman, Erigena, for the same
purpose. During the renaissance of the great Charles
and his successors, Irish scholars could be found in
every monastery and cathedral in the empire. The
teaching was soon called the " Irish learning." Still it
must be said in qualification that the renaissance at the
court of Charlemagne was a rather childish attempt to
unite antiquity with theology. Excepting in the case of
Scotus Erigena, the revival was very feeble. It consisted
of a new effort to understand Augustine, to master the
350 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
simplest rules of logic, and to think out dogma by means
of Hellenism. The period from 800 to 1000 is called the
Benedictine Age, because learning was entirely in the
hands of the Benedictine monks. From the impulse
given by the Irish scholars many celebrated monastic
and cathedral schools originated, like those of Tours,
Fulda, Rheims, Chartres, and the school at Paris. From
the many monastic schools emerge the names of Alcuin
of York, Rhabanus Maurus of Fulda, and Gerbert at
Rheims. But among these scholars the only one of phi
losophical importance is John Scotus Erigena.
John Scotus Erigena (810-880) : Life and Teaching.
When his contemporaries were only lisping at philoso
phy and his immediate successors were absorbed in dis
connected problems, Erigena worked out a connected
system. Like Augustine, Erigena stood far in advance
of his age. He was not only the one great thinker of
the revival of Charlemagne, but he was one of the most
remarkable personalities of the Middle Ages. Born in
Ireland, he had the benefit of an education in the
schools of that centre of learning, which he could not
have obtained on the continent of Europe. In 853 he
was called by Charles the Bald to carry on the work
begun by Alcuin under Charlemagne. Three centuries
after his death the church condemned him as a heretic
(1209) on account of his writings on predestination
and tr an substantiation. His learning was so great that
he has been called " the Origen of the North." He read
Greek, and this was a rare accomplishment in those days,
for even Alcuin scarcely knew the Greek alphabet. His
most notable original work is De Divisione Naturae,
which was neo-Platonism in Christian dress. His most
influential work was his translation of the pseudo-Dio
EARLY PERIOD OF THE MIDDLE AGES 351
nysius, the Areopagite. It proved, in fact, to be one of
the most influential books of this period, and was in
strumental on account of its large circulation in propa
gating neo-Platonism in the Middle Ages.
Erigena was neither a scholastic nor a dialectical
theologian. He neither assailed nor defended church
doctrine. He calmly pushed neo-Platonism to the bor
ders of pantheism. He was an Irishman with a Greek
mind, a neo-Platonist under the veil of a Christian
mystic. No churchman ever expressed neo-Platonism so
frankly. The writings from which Erigena got his doc
trine are called the Pseudo-Dionysius writings because
the authorship was falsely attributed to a companion
of St. Paul, Dionysius the Areopagite. They were, how
ever, probably written in the fifth century, for they
are essentially neo-Platonic and border on pantheism.
Erigena translated them at the request of Charles the
Bald, and their appearance produced great astonishment
in Europe (858-860). Erigena's own work, De Divi-
sione Naturae, is an extreme pantheistic statement of
the doctrine in the Pseudo-Dionysius. Briefly stated
Erigena's teaching is as follows. God is an incompre
hensible being and can be described only in negative
terms (negative theology). (See chapter on Philo.)
God is the same as Being or Nature, and He unfolds
Himself as a fourfold series. These are: God, the
world in God, the world outside God, God after the
world has returned to Him. God contains in Himself
through the Logos all the primordial types of things
formed before creation. Creation is the logical unfold
ing of particulars from the universal. Immortality con
sists in the particulars again becoming universal. In
the types of things God is creating Himself, and they
HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
are graded from God down to concrete objects. But all
will finally return to God, and Erigena thought he found
analogies of this return everywhere in nature.
The Greek Principle which Erigena formulated for
the Middle Ages. These details of the teaching of
Erigena are unimportant except as they throw light
upon that Greek underlying principle which he formu
lated for the Middle Ages. The Heal is the Universal.
Tlie more universal a thing is, the more real and there
fore the more perfect it is. If we have an idea of a uni
versal, that universal has existence because it is uni
versal. The idea of God is universal, therefore God
exists. The idea of the world is a universal, but not so
universal as the idea of God, and therefore not so surely
existent. But the idea of the world has more reality
than the idea of a tree. Mediaeval philosophy becomes
from this time on a logical theism. In the case of
Erigena it is a logical pantheism. The world is a logical
mosaic. Keal dependence is logical dependence, and
what we in modern times call the causes and effects be
tween natural objects are regarded by the Middle Ages
as sufficiently explained if put in logical arrangement.
This is the core of medieval thinking, and the student
will fail to understand the civilization of the Middle
Ages unless he grasps this central principle.
But this realizing of the logical universal is Greek
and betrays the fundamentally Greek character of me
dieval civilization. The objective spiritual church has
merely taken the place of objective nature. Mediaeval
history is a conflict between Greek universalism and
the Christian conception of the individual. In Erigena
the Greek element appeared in overwhelming domi
nance. Erigena is a smaller Augustine — Augustine
EARLY PERIOD OF THE MIDDLE AGES 353
uncontrolled by great masses of thought and uninspired
by practical ideals of building up the church. Erigena
is a " belated Gnostic." Why was it that his nee-Pla
tonic pantheism did not overcome entirely the individ
ualistic element in Christian dogma ? Why, on the con
trary, did it bring out far-reaching issues of conflict
when a century later the significance of his teaching
was understood ? Because inherently and fundamentally
in the nature of the German peoples, as appearing in
their customs and lawss was the conviction of the rights
of the individual personality. In the teaching of the
Christian fathers the element of the spiritual personal
ity found a deep echo in the German nature. The Ger
man could tolerate and did actually live under the later
church doctrine of a moderate realism ; but the meas
ured calm of the Greek pantheistic conception of Eri
gena deprived the German of all his inherited ideals.
Thus when intellectual activity was aroused a century
later, the conflict became hot over the issue in Erigena's
doctrine. Erigena was the forerunner of the scholastics.
It was he who tossed the apple of discord among the
thinkers of the Middle Ages.
The Last Century of the Early Period (900-1000).
The century following Erigena was one of demoraliza
tion. All learning declined with the renewed invasions
from the north, east, and west. The empire of Charle
magne was broken up and the Papacy temporarily dis
appeared. There is a persistent tradition that the Chris
tians at this time believed the end of the world to be
near. This has been proved to be a legend, but back of it
lies the truth that there was a fresh rise of piety which
ksted until 1300. With this movement we enter upon
the next period of the Middle Ages.
CHAPTER XVII
THE TRANSITIONAL PERIOD (1000-1200)
The General Character of the Transitional Period.
The first century of the Transitional Period was as dif
ferent from the last century of the Early Period in its
intellectual attitude and emotional tone as can be im
agined. It was the century of the new birth of Europe
— a century when the beginning of political order was
accompanied by a passion for inquiry. The spirit of
pietism took possession of all institutions — and in the
thirteenth century the mediaeval system seemed to have
reached its perfect form. The Transitional Period gives
meaning to the Crusades. "If ever ideals were carried
out in the world and gained dominion over souls, it hap-
pened then." l " It was as if the world had cast aside
its old garment and clothed itself in the v;1 ite robe of
the church." 2 The ardor of the Crusades wars the speci
fic expression of this religious revival. All the pent-up
energies of the previous mediaeval life were passing
through a rapid period of growth.
Philosophically this period is the time when neo-
Platonic mysticism, as elaborated by Erigena, came into
conflict with the Christian conception of the individual.
These two motives had been held together without con
troversy in the Early Period ; now they develop into
controversy. The philosophical theories evolved by this
controversy go by the name of scholasticism. While
1 Harnack, vol. vi, p. 7.
2 Glaber, Hist., lib, III, 4.
THE TRANSITIONAL PERIOD 355
theoretically secular studies were supposed to be dis
carded and ancient literature was considered to be the
temptation of the devil, yet practically one is surprised
to find a trained skill in the use of dialectic, and the
employment of many of the materials of antiquity as a
means of culture and the refutation of heresies. There
was a knowledge of the classics, of dialectic, of neo-
Platonism, and of Augustine. The spirit of Platonic
realism prevailed among the group of schoolmen of
these two centuries. The problem before this group is
different from that presented to the schoolmen of the
next period. The scholastics or schoolmen of this period
whom we shall consider in some detail are, —
Anselm, 1033-1109.
Roscellinus, d. 1100 about.
Abelard, 1079-1142.
What is Scholasticism? In a general sense scholas
ticism is philosophic thought, but historically the term
is usually restricted to the philosophic thinking of the
Middle Agr . It has been pointed out that scholastic
philosophy does not differ from any other philosophy.
It had its prejudices, its dependence on authority, its
employment of deduction, its use of observation — like
all philosophy. The scholasticism of this time, however,
is distinguished by its general reference to church dogma
as authority and its imperfect use of experience. The
scholasticism of the Middle Ages may therefore be de
fined as the application of dialectic or logical methods
to the discussion of theological problems. It was the
attempt to present the doctrine of the church in a scien
tific system of philosophy. Sometimes such an attempt
resulted in heresy when the result was a changing of
dogma. Generally, however, the scholastic was not so
356 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
ambitious, for he usually sought to keep within the
authoritative doctrines of the church. He feared the
anathema of the church. Scholasticism therefore, in
general, had two characteristics: (1) It assumed that
church dogma was unquestionable and infallible ; (2)
It tried to clarify dogma by rational explanation, or to
show that dogma was at least not contrary to reason.
Dogma may in some cases be explained by the reason.
In some cases it may be so far above reason that the
only thing the reason can say is, " The doctrine does
not contradict me." In the words of an eminent church
man, " Dogma says, Deus homo (God became man).
Scholasticism asks, Cur deus homo ? (Why did God
become man ?) " Revelation is assumed ; scholastic phi
losophy is permitted; independent rational science is
denied. The remainder of the history of the Middle
Ages shows no conscious attempt to form a new body
of doctrine for the church ; and only here and there
does there appear an effort to modify the existing doc
trine. The thinkers are employed in this scholastic
clarifying of the doctrine. In this period scholasticism
takes the form of the logical problem of the relation of
universals and particulars. In the period of Classic
Scholasticism this logical problem changes into the
metaphysical one of the respective scopes of reason and
faith.
The problem of the relation of universal conceptions
to particular experiences had become a central one to
the Greeks after Socrates. (See summary, p. 103.) It
was natural that the same problem should arise with the
new mediaeval man and should delight him as an enig
matical question. But conditions were less favorable for
the medieval scholastic than for the Greek. The mediae-
THE TRANSITIONAL PERIOD 357
val had scanty literary materials, no opportunity of test
ing his discussions by empirical observations, and his
mind was untrained. In the Early Period scholasticism
had the character of a mental game in logic. It con
sisted, on the whole, in the subtle spinning out of logical
questions with the few fragments of Aristotle as a guide.
This was dangerous to faith, but the church could not
prevent it, for it was the only mental diversion open to
monks of the schools of Charlemagne. The arguments
often reveal great mental acuteness, although they have
the appearance of triviality. The schools of the ninth
century were given over to barren formalism, and this
threatened to submerge the vigorous movement inaugu
rated by Erigena. " Can a prostitute become a virgin
again through divine omnipotence?" "Does a mouse
that eats the sacrament eat the body of God?" "How
many angels can stand on the point of a needle?"
These are examples of the prevailing verbal gymnastics
of that time, and such problems can be found even in
the works of Peter Lombard, Thomas Aquinas, and
Duns Scotus.
Logically stated the problem is that of the relation
of particulars to universals. It is usually called the prob
lem of the reality of general ideas. The question was
started by a passage in that universally used text-book
of the time — the Isagoge of Porphyry, which was an
introduction to Aristotle's Categories. (See p. 102.)
Porphyry divides the problem into three parts: (1)
Do genera and species exist in nature, or do they exist
as mere products of the intellect? (2) If they are
things apart from the mind, are they corporeal or incor
poreal things? (3) Do they exist outside the individ
ual things of sense, or are they realized in the latter ?
358 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
Upon the problem involved here the thinkers of the
Middle Ages were divided into three schools, — realists,
conceptualists, and nominalists.1 The realist maintained
that the general idea had reality, while the particular
was only a defective imitation of it. The nominalist, on
the contrary, held that the universal is only a name
(nomen) or an abstraction derived from the real par
ticular thing. The conceptualist tried to mediate be
tween the two by showing that reality exists only in the
particular. To use the mediaeval phrases, realism is uni-
versalia ante rem ; nominalism is universalia post rem ;
conceptualism is universalia in re. (See p. 103 for table
of comparison with Protagoras, Plato, and Aristotle.)
The question was of great practical importance to the
church. Is the universal church real and therefore all
its dogma authoritative, or are the particular churches
real and authoritative ? This was a vital matter to the
churchman of that day who was trying to establish the
primacy of Rome among the separate churches. Fur
thermore, to show that humanity was less real than the
particular human beings would destroy the church doc
trine of sin and redemption, for these dogmas depended
on the assumption of the solidarity of the human race.
The church universal and its universal dogma were not
mere names to the schoolmen, and that is why the ortho
dox churchmen were nearly always realists. Religious
principles were universals, while particulars were secu
lar. Dogma had become fixed, with which traditional!]
the church had become identified. To emphasize par
ticular experiences would mean the continual correcting
of tradition and a substitution of private judgment for
1 In this period the conceptualists were confused with nominalist!
and called nominalists.
THE TRANSITIONAL PERIOD . 359
church decrees. When nominalism is completely worked
out, it will be found to conflict with church dogma at
every point. The result is skepticism. Still the church
man later saw that there is great danger also in a thor
ough-going realism like that of Erigena's. It became
pantheism. Both realism and nominalism were danger
ous doctrines for the church if they were driven to their
logical conclusions.
Anselm (1033-1109): Life and Position in Medi
aeval Philosophy. Anselm lived during the monastic
revival which had begun in the tenth century. He was
in fact the last of the monastic teachers, for during his
declining years occurred the first of the Crusades, and
the epoch following him witnessed the transference of
learning from the monasteries to the universities. He
was born of a noble family in Aosta, Lornbardy, and
entered in early life the monastery of Bee. Here he
succeeded Lanfranc as abbot, and again he succeeded
Lanfranc in the archbishopric of Canterbury. He was a
man of genuine piety, of speculative bent, and of un
swerving faith in the dogma of the church. As primate
of England he resisted with much sagacity the encroach
ments of the secular power. His Cur Deus Homo was
a treatise on the doctrine of the redemption and atone
ment, and was one of the most important books of the
Middle Ages.
Anselm brought about a great change in theological
teaching. Berengar of Tours had but recently made an
attack upon the doctrine of the real presence of Christ
in the Eucharist, and was the immediate cause of the
" storm and stress " period of scholasticism that fol
lowed. Anselm's teacher and predecessor, Lanfranc, had
defended the doctrine. The doctrine had not yet been
360 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
settled, and each side claimed the basis of .authority.
Anselm was therefore a witness of the first attempt to
apply philosophy to dogma, and he was the first to use
dialectics with the serious purpose of defending dogma.
From this time on, dialectics was no longer an intel
lectual diversion. He, the last of the monastic teachers,
was the first to employ dialectics with the new purpose
of instructing the believer. His entire life was animated
by the desire to add knowledge to faith by the means
of philosophy.
Anselm's scholasticism therefore circulates about the
Patristic theology as a centre ; and his spirit and method
is so similar to that of Augustine and the Apologists,
that he has been justly called "the second Augustine"
and " the last of the Fathers." Beside the safe and tra
ditionally centralized teaching of Anselm, the imagina
tive pantheism of Erigena seems like a body that had
been loosened from its natural place and was floating
away beyond control. Both Erigena and Anselm were
inspired by the Platonism that until the year 1200
dominated the Middle Ages. That is, both were realists.
The realism of Erigena, however, expressed in full the
mystic element of Platonism. It destroyed all grades of
reality below God, and made unnecessary the church
and its offices. Erigena was an extreme realist ; Anselm
was consistent with the attitude of the church in being
a moderate realist. The credo ut intelligam (faith as
the basis of intellectual belief) was the anchor which
saved him and became the safeguard of all future or
thodox scholastics. The world to Anselm is a hierarchy
of universal reals, such as the sacraments, the church,
and the Trinity. To such dogmas of the church he ap
plied philosophy, not because they needed support, but
THE TRANSITIONAL PERIOD . 361
in order to make them clear by analysis. Philosophy
shall only clarify dogma.
Anselm's Arguments for the Existence of God. The
so-called " Anselmic Arguments for the Existence of
God " are the best known parts of Anselm's teaching,
and in the eyes of the churchman place his theodicy in
the " status of a finished science." To get their cogency
we must remember the underlying thought of mediaeval
realism ; the more universal a thing is, the more real it
is — the more it exists and the more perfect it is. (See
p. 352.) In his Monologium he developed the so-called
cosmologlcal argument : A single perfect and univer
sal being must be assumed as ths cause of all lesser
beings. God's essence must involve his existence. Every
other being can be thought as coming into existence
from some external cause, while God alone exists from
the necessity of his own nature. In his Proslogium he
elaborated his more famous ontological argument: Man
has the idea of a perfect being; Perfection involves
among other qualities that of existence, otherwise we
could think of a more perfect being or one who did pos
sess existence ; Therefore God exists.
Roscellinus (d. 1100 about): Life and Teaching.
Roscellinus, a canon of Compiegne, was the first scholas
tic to attempt to modify dogma by the dialectic, — not
that there had not occurred throughout the history ot
the church many theological controversies. Before thk
time such controversies had on the whole arisen over
doctrines that had not yet become dogma. The particu
lar object of the attack of Roscellinus was the dogma
of the Trinity, and the base of his attack was none
other than philosophy. Roscellinus completely failed in
getting the church to modify this particular doctrine,
862 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
but lie succeeded in a larger way than he ,could have
imagined. He brought out into distinctness the issue
between reason and revelation. The fundamental ques
tion thereafter was as to the rights of the human rea
son and the rights of divine revelation. Roscellinus
supplied a powerful shock to faith and awakened the
schools to the consequences of questions which had
seemed before to be merely logical problems.
Roscellinus was a nominalist, and it was from the
point of view of nominalism that he attempted to
change the dogma of the Trinity. He made a life-long
defense of the doctrine that the Godhead was three
different substances, agreeing only in certain qualities.
This is tritheism and not a Trinity. But this was only
the most striking example of his application of the gen
eral principle of nominalism. In general, universals are
only names and have an existence only in the human
mind. Universalia post rem. Individuals alone exist.
The groups formed out of many individuals by addi
tion, or the parts of an individual formed by division,
are mental affairs and have no reality. Roscellinus was
opposed by Anselm, condemned by the church, and
obliged to recant. He fled to England, returned to
France, and again preached his doctrine.
Storm and Stress. After the issue was brought to a
head by the nominalism of Roscellinus, the twelfth cen
tury was torn in battle over the reality of general ideas.
The realists, on the one hand, tried to grade universals
and to show how universals are related to particulars
— all of which Anselm had left to faith. How do uni
versals, such as the persons in the Trinity, the church,
the sacraments, exist in one universal God? Grotesque
explanations were offered, like the imaginative work of
THE TRANSITIONAL PERIOD . 363
Bernard of Chartres and the symbolic number theory
of his brother, Theodoric. William of Champeaux, a
teacher of Abelard, almost reduced realism to a pan
theism. Nothing exists but the universal ; all individ
uals are accidental modifications of the universal. Pan
theism was so inherent in the blood of realism that it
was always appearing here and there.
Such pantheistic deductions by the realists brought
out nominalism in opposition, in spite of the repression
of nominalism by the authorities of the church. The
nominalists sought protection and authority under the
name of Aristotle, for his conceptualist doctrine was not
known at this time. The few writings of Aristotle then
known were very imperfectly interpreted. One of the
most ironical situations in the history of the Middle
Ages is that, up to the Period of Classic Scholasti
cism, Plato was the authority of the orthodox and Aris
totle of the heterodox.
The Life of Abelard (1079-1142). Abelard had
both Roscellinus and William of Champeaux as teach
ers. He quarreled with them both and set up a rival
school of his own. He taught in various places and was,
with some interruptions, in Paris from 1108 to 1136 ,
The university did not exist until a generation after
him, but he was its true founder, for he inaugurated
the movement out of which the early universities sprang.
His method was transferred from philosophy to theology
and thence to all studies. It was a didactic method of
drawing conclusions after an empirical enumeration of
the pros and cons. Abelard was acquainted with no
Greek writings except in Latin translations. His great
talent as a teacher and his keen French intellect, that
was impatient of all restraint, made him, however, the
364 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
most brilliant of the schoolmen. Two synods condemned
his teaching. Probably his modern popular reputation
rests upon his unfortunate love-relations with Heloise.
Abelard's Conceptualism. Universals exist in the
Particulars. Abelard formed the storm-centre of the
strife over the technical relations between particulars
and universals. His position has been misunderstood
because he, the pupil and opponent both of Roscellinus
and of William of Champeaux, fought each with the
weapons of the other. He was repelled from pantheism,
which appears to him to be the logic of realism, and he
recoiled equally from the sensualistic outcome of nom
inalism. Universals are the indispensable forms of
knowledge, and they must therefore have some exist
ence in the nature of the things which we know. This
existence consists of the similarity of the essential char
acteristic of things. This likeness is not a numerical
identity, but a unity which makes our knowledge of the
particular things possible. This likeness or similarity
between things is the same as the types created by God.
Thus the universal has no independent objective exist
ence, and on the other hand it is not a mere word out
of all relation to things. The universals exist in three
ways : (1) they exist before the things only as Ideas in
the mind of God ; (2) they coexist with the things as
the essential likenesses of things ; (3) they exist after the
things in the human mind, when it has knowledge of
things. Abelard developed his theory only polemically
and never worked it out systematically. On the techni
cal side of this question the preceding lines of thought
come into an unsystematic unity. His theory was ac
cepted by the Arabian philosophers and is practically
that of Aquinas and Duns Scotus. With Abelard the
THE TRANSITIONAL PERIOD 365
problem was not solved indeed, but it came to a pre
liminary stop in this statement — universals have an
equal significance, ante rem in the mind of God, in re
in nature, post rem in human knowledge.
AbelarcTs Rationalism. — The Relation between
Reason and Dogma. The proud, self-reliant, self-con
scious Abelard could be nothing else than a rationalist.
He was the type of the controversial metaphysician. He
was the fighting dialectician, — intolerant of restraint,
devoid of respect for authority, seeking the prize of
victory at any cost. Erigena, as a mystic, harmonized
reason and dogma because they are equal; Anselm, as
an orthodox scholastic, harmonized them because reason
is subordinate to dogma and conforms to it ; Abelard,
as a rationalist, harmonized reason and dogma because
dogma is subordinate to reason and conforms to reason.
To° Anselm reason merely clarifies dogma ; to Abelard
"dogma is only a provisional substitute for reason."
Anselm never questions dogma, while Abelard calls
dogma before the bar of the reason and then acts as
dogma's advocate. We must try all dogma in court, and,
contrary to modern legal practice, we must doubt it
until it proves its innocence. For " it is through doubt
we come to investigation, and through investigation to
the truth." A good example of Abelard's attitude ap
pears in his Sic et Non, a treatise in which he sets the
views of the Fathers over against one another so that
the reason may decide upon the truth. Another example
of his method appears in his examination of the doo
trine of the Trinity, and in the third book of Chris
tian Theology he cites twenty-three objections and^ in
the fourth book answers them. This rationalizing spirit
led him to advocate the doctrine of free-will, to place the
366 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
responsibility of moral conduct and theoretical belief
upon the individual, to regard Christianity as the con
summation of all religions and not as the presentation
of anything new.
If in these discussions he was more brilliant than
profound, if he wrote upon many questions without
solving any, if the weight of his personality could not
prevail in his controversies, it was because the science
of the twelfth century offered him little empirical sup
port against the actual power of the church and the
mighty inward strength of faith of the people. What
means had Abelard to support his position that rational
science should determine faith ? Nothing but the hollow
methods of scholastic logic and the traditions of the
church — the very things against which he was rebel
ling. Abelard set for himself a problem, but he lacked
the means of its solution. It was, however, a problem
that has never vanished from the memory of the Euro
pean peoples.
The unrest in Abelard's teaching is representative
of the last century of this period, which he brought to a
close. There was growing a general revolt from the un
fruitful methods of the scholastic dialectic, coupled with
feverish desire for knowledge. There was, on the one
hand, a great reaction toward mysticism with the Victo-
rines, Bernard of Clairvaux and Bernard of Tours, and
toward eclecticism with John of Salisbury and Peter
the Lombard. On the other hand, there was an interest
ing growth in empirical science. But these theoretical
interests were but eddies in the great current of events.
For Jerusalem and the Holy Land, the memorials in
earthly form of all the ideals sacred to the mediae va]
mind, had fallen into the hands of the infidel ! The
THE TRANSITIONAL PERIOD 367
western world was preparing for the rescue, and the
Crusades were the last and the frenzied expression of
the Platonic idealism of the Middle Ages. They bring
the first two periods to a spectacular climax. Is it a
mere coincidence that Abelard brings to a close the
dominance of idealism on the theoretic side at the time
when earthly symbols of that idealism were being de
stroyed ?
CHAPTER XVIII
THE PERIOD OF CLASSIC SCHOLASTICISM (1200-1453)
The General Character of this Last Period. The
first one hundred and fifty years of this period was the
golden age of scholasticism ; the remaining one hundred
years was a period of decline. The period of Classic
Scholasticism was a natural growth from the Transi
tional Period. At the end of the Transitional Period
the church, in spite of Mohammedans, Jews, heretics,
and the classics, outshone all else, and its life and dogma
were the most worth while. In this period appeared a
theology, adequate to its life and dogma, — a theology
which was floated by the wave of piety of the Mendi
cant Orders. Acquaintance with the true Aristotle was
the needed stimulus. The favorable conditions for that
stimulus were (1) the triumph of the church and papacy,
(2) the intense piety of the Mendicants, (3) the gen-
eral culture derived from an inner development of the
church and from contact with the East in Constanti
nople, Palestine, and Spain. Aristotle and the Mendi
cants were the new forces, and they achieved their
position against the hostility of the old Orders, the uni
versities, and the teachers. The triumph was possible
because the new forces contributed nothing really new,
but merely completed the old scheme of things. The
new Aristotle, as it was understood, taught metaphysics,
epistemology, and politics in a way to vindicate dogma
as against the opposition of William of Champeaux and
Roscellinus. The Mendicants on their part vindicated
THE PERIOD OF CLASSIC SCHOLASTICISM 369
all dogma by blending it with faith on the one hand,
and with reason on the other.
The scholasticism of the Transitional Period was
predominantly controversial, while the character of this
period, which we are now entering, is synthetic and con
structive. The infusion of fresh blood into culture, from
not only the logical but the physical works of Aristotle,
resulted in the renewal of interest in the dialectic and
in the construction of systems of metaphysics and
psychology. The central problem now concerns the re
spective scopes of reason and faith, and to its solution
logic and psychology are applied. A complete solution
seemed to be made by Thomas Aquinas, which had its
literary expression in Dante. Without the introduction
of any new philosophical principle the world of nature,
as interpreted by Aristotle, was apparently brought by
Thomas into theoretical harmony with the Augustinian
conception of the world of grace. But no sooner did
Thomas seem to have formulated scholastic philosophy
for all time, than controversy broke out afresh. For
pantheistic mysticism gained its independence through
one of Thomas's own brother Dominicans, Eckhart ; then
Duns Scotus, a Franciscan, drew up a metaphysical pro
gramme based upon the Augustinian theory of the will,
and gave a new direction to philosophy ; and further
more nominalism grew great upon Aristotle's logic and
the new empirical psychology. For the churchman, phi
losophy reached its completeness in Thomas Aquinas.
The later tendencies are regarded by the churchman as
deteriorations, and even modern philosophy is looked
upon as but temporizing with the classic system of
Thomas.
The Two Civilizations. This is one of the periods of
370
HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
THE PERIOD OF CLASSIC SCHOLASTICISM 371
thought resulting from the shif tings of distinct civiliza
tions. We have already noted the influence of the strug
gles of the Orient and the Occident in the Persian wars
and in the campaigns of Alexander ; and we have lately
seen an entirely new epoch ushered in by the invasions
of the northern tribes into Rome. With the new epoch
before us, we find ourselves confronted with another
new ethnic situation. The civilization of the Moham
medan had grown in mighty strength in the East, had
possessed itself of Asia Minor, northern Africa, and
Spain, and was now facing Europe from the east, west,
and south. All through the First Period of the Middle
Ages the Christian and Mohammedan civilizations had
been contestants for supremacy. Only as late as 732 the
Mohammedan claim upon Europe had been defeated at
the battle of Tours. Mohammed (570-632) converted
the whole of Arabia to Islam during the ten years
between his Hegira (622) and his death. His succes
sors took Palestine (637), Syria (638), Egypt (647),
Persia (710), all north Africa (by 707), invaded
Spain (711), and were repulsed at Tours (732). All
this occurred within a century, and for the next two
hundred years (800-1000) the Mohammedans harassed
Rome and the islands of the Mediterranean. With the
two civilizations facing each other on the Mediterranean,
only mutual religious fanaticism could stand in the way
of their mutual cultural influence. In point of fact, be
cause of fanaticism the cultures of the two civilizations
during the first centuries of the Middle Ages touched
each other but little. In those first centuries of the
Middle Ages, when western Europe was shrouded in
darkness, the schools of the Arabs at Bagdad, Basra,
Kuf a, and other cities were enjoying a splendid intellect-
372 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
ual life. From 850 to 1100 the centre of learning of
the world was in the Arabian cities of the East.1 In
1100 the fanatical faction of the Arabians crushed this
intellectual movement in the East, the scholars fled to
Spain, and for a century longer Saracen learning flour
ished in Spain, especially in Cordova. In 1200 the
Arabian orthodoxy made itself felt in Spain, and the
Arabian scholars there had to find refuge among the
Jews or Christians.
The First Contact of the Two Civilizations. From
the beginning of the Middle Ages the point of contact
between the two civilizations was either war or com
merce. The Jew was the globe-trotter of that day, and was
constantly bringing into Europe reports of Arabian civ
ilization. He was a philosopher, a monotheist, a Semite,
like the Arab, and he had an interest in more than com
mercial matters. About the end of the Early Period
of the Middle Ages he found it profitable to make first
Hebrew and then Latin translations of Arabian learn
ing, and to sell them in Europe. In this form, between
1000 and 1100, medical and astronomical knowledge
entered Europe. Greek philosophical writings came
next in translations from the Arabic, which had previ
ously been translated from the Syriac. Thus for the
two hundred years, between 1000 and 1200, the Chris
tian schools were beginning to read portions of Greek
philosophy in Latin, which had previously passed
through Syriac and Arabian (and sometimes Hebrew)
translations. Before 1200, there were none but these
Arabic versions. A pertinent example of these was the
works of Aristotle. Before 1200 all of Aristotle's writ-
1 Historians are attaching- more importance than formerly to Con
stantinople as an intellectual centre of that time.
THE PERIOD OF CLASSIC SCHOLASTICISM 373
ings, except the Or g anon, appeared in Europe in this
form, and the Organon as a whole was not known until
1150. In 1125 some of Aristotle's physics was known
by the school of Chartres ; in 1200 all the physics, meta
physics, and ethics were known in translations from the
Latin and Hebrew. These were accompanied by Ara
bian commentaries, which interpreted Aristotle as if he
were a neo-Platonic pantheist. There were many church
men interested in the work of translation, as, for ex-
ample, Gerbert, and Raymond of Toledo. Roger II of
Sicily (d. 1154) and Frederick II (d. 1250) had their
courts filled with Arabian philosophers. Frederick had
many translations made and presented to the Universi
ties of Oxford, Paris, and Bologna.
Thus the influence of the Arabian upon the Chris
tian culture before the Classic Period of the Middle
Ages was not inconsiderable. But this must be said of
Arabian culture — it was mainly borrowed. Arabia *
acted merely as a transmitter of the materials of know
ledge from the Greeks and Hindoos ; and so far as
philosophy was concerned, the Arab was returning to
Europe, in a perverted form, the Aristotle which had
been deposited with him centuries before. The Moham
medans were the world's carriers of a considerable body
of science and of many new agricultural products ; and
of the amount which they introduced into Europe only
a small portion was their own. At the end of the twelfth
century the Christian at Rome and York was richer in
the principles of discovery, but poorer in the amount of
traditional learning and of scientific wealth, than the
Mohammedan at Bagdad and Cordova.
* Read on this point Seignobos, Hist, of Mediceval Civil*
zation, pp. 117 f.
374 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
The Conflict between the Two Civilizations. — The
Crusades.* The rivalry between the two civilizations
became intensified into an open conflict about the year
1100. Up to the year 1000 the Mohammedan leaders
were Arabians, but in the eleventh century these Ara
bians were conquered by tribes of Turks or Mongolians
from the north of Asia. These became converted to
Mohammedanism, but they had no love for culture nor
reverence for the places in Palestine, which were sacred
alike to the Christian and the Arab. From the fourth
to the twelfth century the pilgrimages of the Chris
tians, individually or in multitudes, largely increased, but
in the eleventh century the new race of Mohammedan
Turks made the access to Jerusalem more difficult.
They began to subject the pilgrims to cruelties, so that
the Christian was beginning to find the door of his Holy
Land closed to him. Then did Platonic Christianity
rush to the rescue of those sacred places that symbol
ized its ideals. This onslaught upon the Mohammedans
came in a series of surges, traditionally spoken of as
the eight Crusades.1 The Crusades resulted quite con
trary to the expectations of the church, for the Crusad*
* Read Emerton, Mediaeval Europe, pp. 358-397 ;
Adams, Civilization during the Middle Ages, pp. 258-278.
1 THE CRUSADES
Major Crusades Minor Crusades
First Crusade, 1096-1099 Fifth Crusade, 1216-1220
Second " 1147-1149 Sixth " 1228-1229
Third " 1189-1192 Seventh " 1248-1254
Fourth " 1202-1204 Eighth " 1270-1272
Children's " 1212
It will be noted that five of these nine Crusades occurred within
thirty years of the year 1200. The First Crusade resulted in the cap-
ture of Jerusalem and the founding of a kingdom. The other Crusadea
were directly or indirectly concerned with the defense or recapture ol
that kingdom.
THE PERIOD OF CLASSIC SCHOLASTICISM 375
ers failed in permanently recapturing Jerusalem, But
the Crusades accomplished the unexpected thing — they
awakened Europe. The effect of the Crusades upon
Europe was far greater than upon the Orient. The re
sults may be enumerated as follows : —
1. The dormant European intellect was shaken up by
contact with the heathen, whom the Europeans had previ
ously despised, but whom they found to be their superiors.
2. A new national rivalry was aroused among the
Christian soldiers. This national spirit was helped nega
tively by the losses among the feudal lords.
3. Commercial activity was given an immense im
pulse. A new social class was formed, which allied itself
with the kings against the feudal lords. Trade was
opened with the East, revealing new luxuries and new
needs. Venice, Pisa, and Genoa, and in a secondary way
also the German, French, and English towns, became
prosperous commercial centres.
4. The power of the Latin church was extended.
5. The works of Aristotle were introduced in tra?is-
lations direct from the original Greek. In the fourth
Crusade Constantinople was captured by the Crusaders
(1204), and in this way the treasures of the Greeks
were opened to the western scholars. The complete
works of Aristotle were introduced into western Europe
at a time when Aristotle was being interpreted as a
pantheist by the Arabian commentators.
The Revival of Learning. The need of learning, that
had been felt in the twelfth century, was now being
satisfied. The entire logic of Aristotle and his entire
natural science gave the new materials for knowledge.
These came into Europe within the century between
1150 and 1250, (1) through translations from the Ara«
876
HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
bic, and then (2) directly through translations from the
Greek. Aristotle's logic revived scholasticism and hia
science became the foundation of metaphysics. Medise-
THE UNIVERSE
THB ANOECTC
DIAGRAM OF DANTE'S POETIC CONCEPTION OF THE UNIVERSE
From Eossetti's Shadow of Dante
(Showing its divisions of Hell (at centre of the earth), Purgatory, and the nine heavens^
The evident plan beneath this is the Ptolemaic cosmography)
val thought was ready for this and there was a com*
plete readjustment without the introduction of a new
philosophical principle. The side of Augustine's teach*
THE PERIOD OF CLASSIC SCHOLASTICISM 377
ing that emphasized the intellect rather than the will,
gained by being confirmed by the systematic intellect-
ualism of Aristotle. The founder of this was Albert
of Bollstaedt ; the organizer and literary codifier wati
Thomas Aquinas ; the poetic expression was Dante.
The new centres of learning were Paris and Constan
tinople. The centres of teaching were transferred from
the monasteries to the new Universities (1100-1300).
Salerno had its beginnings in the latter part of the
eleventh century. Bologna in law, Oxford in general
culture and theology, Paris in the same studies, show
traces of general organization between 1160 and 1200.
There were established seventy-nine of these universi
ties between 1150 and 1500. They were not " founded,'*
but grew up as part of this movement.*
Nevertheless, the struggle was a full century long
before official recognition of Aristotle came. The name
of Aristotle had been associated with pantheism for
many years, on account of the Arabian versions of his
teaching. The neo-Platonic doctrine of emanations,
with its pantheism in the Arabian versions, was a
tendency of which the church had been shy since the
days of Erigena. Until the theistic character of Aris
totle's teaching became assured by the direct Latin
translations from the Greek, there was a powerful
reaction against the whole of the new learning. The
church had condemned the Physics in 1209 and the
Metaphysics in 1215. But in 1254 Aristotle was offi
cially recognized, and fifty years later he became the
guide of the church, whom no one could contradict with
out being accused of heresy.
* Read Norton, Readings in the Hist, of Education, pp,
102-103.
378 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
The Catholic church never showed its ability to
greater advantage than in its dealings with the new
problems of this period. The people of a purely reli
gious epoch now came into possession of Aristotelianism.
For centuries the intellect had been starving on formal
logic. An intellectual revolution was imminent. Here
in Aristotle was presented a rich theory of nature that
the church had never considered. Yet it is doubtful if
Aristotle would have been accepted, had the Mendicant
Friars — the Dominicans and Franciscans — not suc
ceeded in establishing chairs in the University of Paris.
These monks did not love philosophy in itself. They
saw, however, that philosophy must be able to defend
itself against infidel philosophy by the weapons of phi
losophy. But curiously enough, Aristotelianism, which
was the spring of this renaissance, became, by its incor
poration into the church, the great obstacle to the real
Renaissance two hundred and fifty years later.
The Strength and Burden of Aristotle to the Church.
i. The Strength of Aristotle to the Church: (1)
Aristotle elaborated for the church, with great clear
ness, the conception of a transcendent God. This was
a weapon for the church against neo-Platonism and
mysticism. (2) Aristotle gave to the church a theory
of nature that supplemented its theory of grace. (3)
Aristotle established a philosophical standard for the
truth of things. This proved of great value to the
church because it was under the control of the church.
In the first two periods of the Middle Ages philosophi
cal thought had a relative independence because it was
without a recognized standard ; now philosophy could
be controlled by the standard of Aristotle. For exam
ple, with the coming of Aristotle there came certain
THE PERIOD OF CLASSIC SCHOLASTICISM 379
standard definitions of substance, person, nature, acci
dent, mode, potency, and act.
2. The Burden of Aristotle to the Church: (1)
Aristotle encouraged a taste for science and analysis.
At first the Aristotelian influence in this direction was
very small, but its growth was only a question of time.
(2) Aristotle became for the church a second standard.
The problem for the churchman now became a double
one : (a) Is my teaching consistent with church dogma ?
(i) Is my teaching consistent with Aristotle ? " My
son," was the reply to a youth who thought he had dis
covered spots on the sun, "I have read Aristotle many
times and I assure you there is nothing of the kind in
him." Dogma, not now the only standard, is not in
fallible. The reason need not follow dogma, but its own
standard. Revelation became a realm of mystery which
the reason could not reach, but to which it pointed. A
doctrine thus might be of such a nature that it might
be philosophically true, but theologically not true.
The Predecessors of Aquinas. Many distinguished
names stand at the close of the Transitional Period
and the beginning of the Classic Period. These express
the transitional character of the thought of the thresh
old of this time. They show, like Abelard, the tend
ency toward rationalism. Alexander of Hales (d. 1264),
William of Aubergne (d. 1249), Vincent of Beauvais
(d. 1246), Albert of Bollstaedt, called Albertus Magnus
(d. 1280), show the influence of the new Aristotelian
science. Albert was the teacher of Thomas Aquinas.
The attempt of Thomas to form a theological system
for the church was anticipated by the so-called Sums
of the twelfth century, of which the work of Peter the
Lombard was the model. The four books of Sums
380 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
of Peter were collections of opinions of the Fathers on
questions of dogma. They show the influence of Aris
totle and the method of Abelard. The Sums of Peter
became for several centuries the text-book of the schools
and the subject of innumerable commentaries. It was
the core of Classic scholastic literature, and around it
grew up the problems of metaphysics and psychology.
The Life of Thomas Aquinas (1224-1274). — The
Founder of the Dominican Tradition. Thomas belonged
to a noble house which was related to the royal family.
He studied in the University of Naples, but at the age
of nineteen, upon resolving to enter the Dominican
order, he was captured and kept a prisoner by his bro
thers. After two years he made his escape, and, his
family having consented to his taking orders, he went
to Cologne under the instruction of Albert. He was
then sent to Paris, where he obtained his degree in 1257.
He was a successful lecturer at Paris until 1261, when
he was called by the Pope to teach philosophy in Eome,
Bologna, and Pisa. During this period he composed his
greatest work, Summa Theologiae. He declined pre
ferment and finally resided at Naples. He always en
joyed the highest consideration of the church authorities.
Thomas, the founder of the " Dominican tradition,"
was the first to formulate Christian Aristotelianism and
to draw for the church the line between the realms of
reason and faith. He did not so much create doctrine as
he transformed and assimilated it. The sources from
which he drew were many : the Scriptures, the Fathers,
Greek philosophy, and the teaching of contemporary
Arabians and Jews. If, as some historians maintain, he
was not a thinker of the first rank, he at least relieved
the church from a delicate situation by means of a con-
THE PERIOD OF CLASSIC SCHOLASTICISM 381
ciliating theology. Certainly his predecessors and con
temporaries stand eclipsed by him. He satisfied the
mediaeval demand for order and he prevented deteriora
tion in the church doctrine. He did not rise above his
age, although he stood at the head of its intellectual
movement. He was, on the contrary, the most perfect
expression of scholasticism, and he was affectionately-
regarded as doctor angellcus and again as doctor uni-
ver sails.
The Central Principle of Thomas's Doctrine — The
Twofold Truth. The life-purpose of Thomas was to
bring Christianity into closer relation with civilization
and science. He sought to give all departments of
knowledge their rights and at the same time to protect
the ascendency of religion. This was to him the same
as bringing Christianity and Aristotle together, for
Aristotle meant to him the entire product of ancient
civilization. To the mediaeval world of grace he added
a world of nature, and, fully dominated by the mediae
val love of order, he unfolded so comprehensive a view
of life that he included all its problems. He felt that
the natural and the revealed must not become a contra
diction.
To accomplish this Thomas found in Aristotle his
own ideal estimate of things. Looking at Aristotle
through his own neo-Platonism, he naturally found in
Aristotle more of the inner and religious estimate oi
nature than the facts will allow. Yet it was evident to
Thomas that there was in Aristotle a great interest in
nature and a great reserve on ultimate questions. Na
ture was, according to Aristotle, an essence unfolding in
a system of grades. This became the central principle
of Aquinas in this form: Nature is a sketch in outline
382 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
of the, world of grace. Before the eye of the religious
mind these two truths should appear : (1) the world of
faith and the world of nature are two properly distinct
worlds ; (2) the world of faith is a continuation of the
world of nature. The world of grace and the world of
nature are two grades of the whole of existence. Nature
is the lower stage of development, and the point of con
tact between it and the world of grace is the soul of man.
Keligion and philosophy thus have different spheres, but
they are not contradictory. Grace does not destroy,
but it perfects nature. Nature is subordinate to grace
as man is subordinate to the Christian, the state to the
church, the Emperor to the Pope.1
The difference between philosophy and theology is
not that theology treats of God and divine truths, and
philosophy does not. Philosophy discusses divine truths.
But the difference lies here, that theology views truths
in the light of revelation, while philosophy views them
in the light of reason. Yet there are truths that belong
to philosophy, truths that belong to theology, and truths
that belong to both. The problems of the existence of
God, the immortality of the soul, and the relation of the
world to God are theological problems, yet they can also
be demonstrated by the reason of philosophy; but the
mysteries of the Trinity, the Incarnation, and the tem
poral creation are beyond the scope of the reason and
belong to theology. Philosophy and theology are distinct,
yet they are in harmony. Theology supplements philo
sophy with faith ; philosophy supplements theology by
1 Dante in De Monarchia did not share in Thomas's subordination of
the state to the church. Both Dante and Thomas believed that destiny
lies in the race, but the great poet regarded man as destined equally
for earthly and heavenly happiness. To Dante the church and the state
are powers of like authority.
THE PERIOD OF CLASSIC SCHOLASTICISM 383
(1) establishing preliminary motives, (2) supplying
analogies, (3) answering objections. Thomas accepts
both propositions which had divided his predecessors :
credo ut intelligam and intelligo ut credam.
Above historical revelation there is something even
higher, which could be called another realm, were it not
more of a hope than a possession of man. Its appear
ance in the doctrine of Thomas shows the influence of
Plato upon him. It is the immediate union of the indi
vidual with God in mystic ecstasy.1 It is the dome of
the religious temple that Thomas has built. But Thomas
was careful to insist that this heavenly glory could not
be gained except through the offices of the church. The
individual cannot reach God through his own unaided
efforts, but the sacraments of the church form the mys
terious background of the religious life.
The Problem of Individuality — The Relation of
Particulars and Universals. The all-absorbing question
of the Transitional Period, of the relation of particulars
and universals, became for Thomas and his successors
the problem of individuality. For the schoolman was
obliged to define the individual and fix his place in his
Aristotelian world, if he was to be successful against
the pantheism of the Arabian Aristotelianism. What
is the nature and standing of the individual? What
constitutes the difference between individuals? The
whole theological edifice of Thomas would collapse in
mystic unity, the immortality of the soul would be lost
and the offices of the church would be nullified, unless
Thomas showed the positive nature of the individual.
1 Dante follows Thomas in placing the intellectual virtues above the
practical, and in pointing1 to the intellectual intuition of God as the
goal of human attainment. Beatrice is Dante's expression of this ideal.
384 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
In this connection we must remember that on the whole
the Middle Ages had accepted Abelard's analysis of the
problem of the relation of universals and particulars :
the universals exist in three ways, ante rein or in God's
mind ; post rem or in man's mind ; in re or in nature.
To Thomas the universals as abstractions (imiversalia
post rem) in the human mind cannot be individuals, for
they have no real existence. To have real existence the
universal must exist in re, in the many, as the essence
of things ; not as abstraction beside the many.
The question of individuality therefore to Thomas
concerns properly only objects in re, or objects in the
corporeal world.1 These are objects of Form and Mat
ter. The question is, whether the Form or the matter
of corporeal things is the principle of its individuality.
Thomas says that matter is this principle, — not inde
terminate matter, but matter with quantitative deter
minations. The difference between earthly individuals
is numerical — a difference of time and space relations.
The Forms of nature objects change continually accord
ing to their material conditions, but these conditions do
not change. Nevertheless the quantitative determina
tions of individuals are not the cause, but the condition,
of their existence.
But the question about the status of beings in the
spiritual world, " separate Forms," is a more difficult
one for Thomas. This is the problem about God, the
angels, and the souls of men. They are evidently not
individualized by matter. What is the principle that
distinguishes them from one another? They are Forms
without matter and they are individualized through
themselves, since they have no need of material deter-
i De Wulf , Hist, of Mediceval Phil, p. 323.
THE PERIOD OF CLASSIC SCHOLASTICISM 385
minations. Thus God is distinguished from everything
else as pure Form or pure actuality. He is the unique
individual in whom all differences merge. Bat so also
are the angels actualized through themselves. What is
the difference between God and the angels ? God is an
absolute genus ; the angel is a relative genus, i. e. it is
the only one of its kind. But what is the condition of
the souls of men ? Are they all alike or do they have a
principle of distinction? Yes, they are distinguishable,
for each soul upon separation from its body carries with
it a love for its former body, and that distinguishes it
from other souls.
The Primacy of the Will or the Intellect. Up to this
time there had been no psychological dispute as to which
of the faculties was fundamental. Now the question ap
pears in full force. Much of the literature of this period
is upon the question of the primacy of the will or the
intellect, and it appears to be almost the leading motive
of the time. Augustine had placed the will in the fore
ground of his teaching. His successors had never dis
puted the subject, but had been engaged in discussing
what products of the intellect are real — the particulars
or the universals. With the introduction of the intel-
lectualism of Aristotle, there almost immediately arose
defenders of Augustine. To them Aristotelianism was
too rationalistic. Thomas follows Aristotle uncondition
ally, and with him stand the German mystics. Intellect-
ualism becomes the central principle of what is known
as the " Dominican tradition." Duns Scotus was a Fran,
ciscan monk. He took up arms for the primacy of the
will, and this became the central principle of the "Fran
ciscan tradition." On this point the nominalists were
his allies.
386 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
The problem of the will arose first with reference to
the human will. Thomas contended against Duns Sco-
tus that man is free so far as he follows his knowledge
of the good. The intellect is therefore primal, for it de
termines the will by showing the will what the good is.
The question next arose as to the priority of the fac
ulties in God. Does God's will dominate His intellect or
His intellect dominate His will? This was a vital point
in the Augustinian theodicy. Does God will the good
to be good, or does His will act according to what He
knows to be good ? Here lies the point at issue between
the Dominican Thomas and the Franciscan Scotus.
Thomas maintained that the intellect of God determines
His will. The intellect is determined by the truth so
long as the intellect is true to itself. Why should not
the will be determined by the truth in the same way ?
With God this freedom for the truth is God himself.
The world is the best possible world, for God has willed
it out of himself.
The world is determined by goodness and man's will
is 'determined by the same goodness. When the sense
(Conquers the morally determined will, there is sin. The
.senses, and not the will, are the cause of sin.
Duns Scotus (1270-1308), the Founder of the Fran
ciscan Tradition — Life and Philosophical Position.
Thus the Middle Ages did not come to a standstill with
Thomas. A greater movement existed after him than
is often thought. The leading minds who succeeded
Thomas refused to follow the middle course which he
lhad mapped out. New attempts were made to relate the
world of grace and the world of nature. One was mys
ticism, represented by Eckhart (d. 1372). The other
was the reaction of the Augustinian s against the intel-
THE PERIOD OF CLASSIC SCHOLASTICISM 387
lectualism of the new Aristotelianism as represented by
Thomas. The leader in this was Duns Scotus. The seat
of this movement was Oxford.1
Duns Scotus was born in Ireland and at an early age
he joined the Franciscan order. He graduated from Ox
ford, which at that time was anti-Thomistic. He then
taught theology and philosophy at Oxford for ten years.
His lectures were largely attended and his fame spread
over Europe. He went to Paris in 1304, where he taught
for four years. He was then transferred to Cologne,
where he died.
Scotus was the Kant of scholasticism. The time of
construction of scholasticism had passed, and the time
of criticism and analysis had come. Scotus was the in
tellectual knight-errant who refused to accept any the
ory without subjecting it to criticism. He was the acut-
est mind of the Middle Ages and was called the doctor
subtilis.
Duns Scotus's Conception of the Twofold Truth. —
The Separation of Science and Religion. The distinc
tion between revelation, theology, and philosophy, that
appears in this period of Classic Scholasticism, was
sharply drawn by Scotus. In Thomas's conception of a
graded world of development the distinction between
theology and philosophy was not emphasized. Philosophy
now in the hands of Scotus becomes science, having the
marks of exactness that compel belief, but is, however,
restricted to its own realm. By philosophy Scotus means
1 Roger Bacon (1214-1292) lived at Oxford two generations before
Scotus. He was so versatile that he was not able to dogmatize in any
one field. He believed that theology was based on the will of God, all
other science on the reason. He influenced both Scotus and Ockam to
turn from authority to experience. Morality was to him the content of
universal religion.
S38 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
logic. In matters of faith logic has nothing whatever to
say, for at that extreme stands revelation possessing the
absolute truth that compels faith. Between revelation
and philosophy Scotus squeezes theology — the science
that his predecessors had used to clarify revelation.
With Scotus it becomes a domain that is poor indeed.
Its objects are the highest, but it can never reach them.
It has not the divine assurance of revelation nor the
exactness of logical science. Its highest conclusions are
only probable, and it can help revelation only in a nega
tive way. It cannot prove the doctrine of the Trinity,
incarnation, creation, immortality, and even its proofs for
the existence of God have no cogency. Philosophy and
revelation both profit at the expense of scholastic theo
logy. After Scotus scientific heresy frequently shielded
itself on the ground that its conclusions apply only to
the realm of science, while the opposite may be true in
revelation.
The Inscrutable Will of God. Revelation is thus
placed beyond the reach of the human reason because it
rests on the inscrutable will of God. Revelation is God's
free act. God must be free. If Thomas's conception of
God's will as determined by his intellect were true, God
would not be free. The intellect in man or God must
be the servant of the will, if the will be free. In man
consciousness produces at first a number of indistinct
and imperfect ideas. Those ideas become distinct upon
which the will fixes its attention, while the others cease
to exist because they are unsupported by the will.
God's will is more fundamental than the good. God
makes the good to be good. Both Thomas and Scotus
say that the moral law is the command of God. Thomas
conceives it to be God's command because it is in ac-
THE PERIOD OF CLASSIC SCHOLASTICISM 389
cord with the good ; Scotus, for no other reason than
that it is God's command. The good might be different
if God so created it. In opposition to Thomas, Scotus
maintained that God does not have to create what He
does create, and that this is not the best possible world.
God creates what He wills ; He can, therefore, grant
dispensation, and so can the church. If God's will were
determined by His intellect, Pie would have no inde
pendence, He would not even exist, He would be only
nature or one of its causes, there could be no evil nor
accident. He can supersede the moral law by a new
law, just as He superseded the Mosaic law by the Gospel.
Individuality, revelation, salvation, and all objects of
faith have their existence only in the groundless and in
scrutable will of God. For this reason there can be no
rational theology.
This founder of the " Franciscan tradition " of practi
cal piety and meritorious action could not have other
than the freedom of the will as his central principle.
An Augustinian he refused, however, to follow Augustine
in centralizing freedom in God. The object of faith is
the will of God, the subject of faith is the will of man.
Human freedom consists in cooperation with divine
grace. Man can help in the work of God. His freedom
is partly formal : he can will or not will. It is partly
material: he can will A or B. There is no ulterior
ground to determine the human will, and this unde
termined freedom is the ground for merit, provided the
human will coincides with the divine.
The Problem of Individuality. The problem of in-
dividuation was a favorite one with Scotus. While Sco
tus agrees with Thomas as to the threefold existence of
the universal, the individual and not the universal is
390 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
the ultimate fact. The individual cannot be deduced
from the universal, nor can it be constituted by the quan
titative determinations of matter. It is already individ
ualized and substantialized. Form, not matter, individ
ualizes. The definite individual form, the " thisness "
(hazcceitas), is the ultimate fact. The individual can
only be verified as actual fact. The individual is irre
ducible, and no further explanation can be made than to
say that it is an individual. Thus the inquiry into the
Principium indimduationis has no meaning.
After Duns Scotus. The church failed to canonize
Scotus ; for though he claimed to be its most faithful
son, he taught the dangerous doctrine of freedom of the
individual will. His doctrine also marks the beginning
of empirical investigation of nature and the decadence
of formal logic. Although a most faithful follower of
the church, he brought scholasticism to the point where
it no longer served the church. The result was ultra-
rationalism — not what Scotus intended. But when
revelation no longer rests upon rational ground, and
when there exists by its side a philosophical science
whose basis is rational, it is only a question of time
when revelation shall lose its authority for men. When
philosophy passed from Scotus to Ockam, Ockam's con
ception of the individual as the ultimately real and of
the unrationality of revelation gave him the old name
of nominalist. This is a misnomer, for the doctrine of
Ockam is quite different from the nominalism of Ros-
cellinus. The temper of the time was different from
those days when Roscellinus followed upon Anselm, for
the superior minds were now turning away from ortho
doxy. Disciples of both Thomas and Scotus were be
coming nominalists. It was an epoch when scholasticism
THE PERIOD OF CLASSIC SCHOLASTICISM 391
was being discredited by the universities, when theology
was less a study in the curricula, when religion was be
ing superseded by magic, when there were rival claim
ants for the Pope's chair, when there was strife between
the church and the state. The spirit of the age was
toward nominalism in every form. The command, in
1339, to the University of Paris not to use Ockam's
works shows how powerful had become his following
during his lifetime. Dominicans and Augustinians
went over in crowds to nominalism. This beginning of
nominalism betrays the growth of European national
life, modern languages, art, and the sciences. It shows
the beginning of Protestantism in all departments. The
church attempted to crush it in the way that it had
crushed Roscellinus. But this nominalism had too deep
root.
William of Ockam (1280-1349) : Life and Teaching.
Ockam was called Doctor Invincibilis. He was born in
Ockam, England, and studied at Oxford, where he prob
ably had Scotus as a teacher. After teaching in Paris
(1320-1325), he left Paris and joined the opponents
of the temporal power of the Pope. He was imprisoned
at Avignon, but escaped to the court of Louis of Ba
varia, where he died. To Louis he made his celebrated
promise, " If you will defend me with your sword, I will
defend you with my pen." He has been called " the
first Protestant."
The nominalism of Ockam was more complex than
that of Roscellinus, and yet it was essentially a tend
ency to simplification by discarding all metaphysics and
psychology as useless. " Ockam's razor " was the nick
name of his philosophy. He regarded concepts as sub
jective signs or " terms " of actual facts. Hence his
392 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
philosophy was also called terminism. There was also
in it a naturalistic tendency which was the result of the
scientific studies of the Aristotelian Arabians. With
these logical and naturalistic motives were united the
Augustinian doctrine of the will. These were the three
factors of a nominalism that felt the conviction of the
importance of the inner life as well as the need of an
extended investigation of nature.
It is, moreover, no accident that Ockam was conserv
ative, for he belonged to the Franciscans, the most con
servative of the monastic bodies. This nominalism was
a reaction against scholasticism, in order to strengthen
the supernatural character of dogma. Ockam felt that
scholasticism had waxed too great — that under the
guise of serving religion it had virtually subordinated
religion. The reactionary Franciscans proclaimed the
entire separation of religion and philosophy in order to
make room for faith. Faith could be purified only by
renouncing scholasticism. The temporal power must be
given up by the church, the state and the church must
be separated. No new knowledge about faith can be ob
tained. The dogma must be left impregnable, even
though scientifically men become skeptics.
Consistent, therefore, was it for this movement to
disjoin entirely the parts of the twofold truth. Scotus
had almost crowded out natural theology ; Ockam com-
pleted the work of Scotus. Scholasticism or natural
theology is a rubbish-heap of hypotheses. The church
should abandon speculation and emphasize faith. It
should return to the simplicity and holiness of the
Apostolic church. Ockam was devoted to the true up
building of the church and was a follower of St.
Francis. It was his love for the church that made
THE PERIOD OF CLASSIC SCHOLASTICISM 393
him take sides against her pretensions to temporal
power.
Ockam was the natural precursor of his fellow-
countryman John Locke, and the English empirical
school. Individual things have the reality of original
Forms, for they come to us intuitively. Our ideas are
only signs of them. This is a relation of the " first in
tention." As individual ideas are related to individual
things, so general ideas are related to individual ideas.
This is the relation of the " second intention." The
general idea referring thus indirectly to an individual
thing is therefore arbitrary and capricious. Real science
deals with things intuitively observed ; rational science
only with the relations between ideas. Nevertheless
real science deals only with an inner world, even if its
material is intuitively known. Intuitions are only re
presentatives of the real world. How much less real
must the world of rational science then be, since it pre
supposes these inner intuitions of real science. The uni
versal, therefore, has no reality. It is a name, a sign of
many things, a term. Only the individual is real.
After Ockam. William of Ockam was the last school
man. When his doctrine of terminism was united with
Augustine's powerful doctrine of the will, — forming
an extreme individualism, — the glimmering of the dawn
of modern times appears. The movement was made
still stronger by the study of the history of develop
ment psychologically, and it became a kind of idealism
of the inner life. Already, too, there were beginning
investigations in natural science, based upon empirical
study. Modern subjectivism was at hand ; scholasticism
had run its course. The representatives of the scholar
tic philosophy of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries
3s/4 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
forgot the principle of the Classic Schoolmen and be*
came mere commentators of the leaders of the tradi
tion to which they belonged. Their verbal subtleties
were too refined to be understood. The efforts of Nic
olas Cusanus to bring secular science under a system
of scholastic mysticism only promoted the modern
movement. Cusanus therefore belongs to the next pe»
riod, and of him we shall subsequently hear.
INDEX
I
INDEX
Abdera, 107, 119. See Atomists.
Abelard, life of, 363 ; his conceptual-
ism, 364; his rationalism, 365-367.
Academy, the, what it was, 124; after
the death of Plato, 166 ; and Aris
totle, 169-171; Older, Middle, and
New, 220, 221; the skepticism of,
266-268 ; eclecticism in, 270.
Adams, G. B., Civilization during
the Middle Ages, 374 n.
Adamson, Robert, The Development
of Greek Philosophy quoted, 255.
jEnesidernus, Skeptic, 268.
Agrippa, Skeptic, 268, 269.
Albertus Magnus. See Bollstaedt.
Alcidamus, Sophist, 68.
Alcuin, 349, 350.
Alexander of Hales, 379.
Alexandria, a centre of Hellenism,
215; in the Middle Ages, 282.
Alexandria*! School of neo-Platon-
ism, 290-298.
Ammoniu* Saccas, 290, 314.
Anamnesis, 147-149.
Anaxagoras, his life, 43; his philoso
phy, 45-47.
Anaximander, 24, 25.
Anaximenes, 25.
Ancient Philosophy, length of, 1;
underlying character of, 2; divi
sions of, 4, 5 ; literary sources of, 6.
Animism, 19.
Anselm, life and position in mediae
val philosophy, 359-361; his argu
ments for the existence of God,
361 ; on reason and dogma, 365.
Anthropological period of Greek
philosophy, 12, 13; discussion of,
55-97; historical summary of, 55.
Anthropologists, 103.
Anthropology, defined, 13.
Antiochus of Ascalon, 270, 271.
Antisthenes, founder of the Cynic
school, 93, 95.
Apathy, Stoic, 251.
Apollonius, neo-Pythagorean, 285.
Apologists, the, 307-309.
Aquinas, Thomas, on the problem
of reason and faith, 369, 377; the
predecessors of, 379, 380; life of
(founder of the Dominican tra
dition), 380, 381 ; the central princi
ple of his doctrine, 381-383; the
problem of individuality accord
ing to, 383-385; on the will and the
intellect, 385, 386.
Arabian, schools, 371, 372; transla
tions of Greek works, 372, 373.
Arcesilaus, 267.
aperTj, meaning of, 84.
Aristippus, founder of the Cyrenaic
school, 93, 96; and Epicurus, 229,
230.
Aristophanes, opposed the Sophists,
74.
Aristotle, his place in Greek history,
98-100, 103; conceptualist, 104; ad
vanced age at which he finished
his education, 125; in the Academy
and Lyceum, 166-168 ; chronological
sketch of his life, 168, 169; his bio
graphy in detail, 169-173; the writ-
ings of, 173-176; his starting-point,
176, 177; the fundamental principle
in his philosophy, 177-180 ; his logic,
180-185; his metaphysics, 185-194;
development is purposeful, 185-
187; his two different conceptions
of purpose, 187-190; his conception
of God, 190, 191 ; his conception o*
matter, 191, 192 ; his conception of
nature, 192-194; his theory of phy
sics, 194-196; his psychology, 196-
199; his ethics, 199-202; his political
philosophy, 202, 203; in the Middle
Ages, 332, 363, 368,369; Arabic ver
sions of his works, 372, 373; works
of, introduced into Western Eu
rope, 375-378; the strength and
burden of, to the church, 378, 379;
and Thomas Aquinas, 380, 381.
Arnold, Matthew, 43 n.
Astronomy, of the Pythagoreans, 40-
52, 53; Ptolemaic, 322-325.
INDEX
Ataraxia, of Epicurus, 231, 233 ; of
the Skeptics, 266.
Athenian school of neo-Platonism,
290, 299-301.
Athens, rise of, 57, 58 ; and Socrates,
91; and Abdera, 119; a centre of
Hellenism, 213-215.
Atomism of Epicurus, the, 238-240.
Atomistic school, the, 107.
Atomists, the, philosophy of, 47, 48.
Atoms of Democritus, the, 109-114,
116, 117.
Augustine, the historical position
of, 306, 318, 335-338; the life of,
339, 340; the two elements in his
teaching, 340, 341; the neo-Pla-
tonic element : the inner certain
ties of consciousness, 341-345; the
authority of the church accord
ing to, 345-347.
Aurelius, Marcus, 243, 246.
Bacon, Francis, Essay on Love,
153 n.
Bacon, Roger, 387 n.
Bardesanes, Gnostic, 310.
Basilides, Gnostic, 310.
Becoming, word how used, 22; in
Heracleitus's doctrine, 29; accord
ing to Plato, 133, 136, 129.
Being, word how used, 22; in Par-
menides' doctrine, 33-35; Pythago
rean conception of, 49-51 ; aspects
under which it was conceived of,
in Greek philosophy, 103, 104; ac
cording to Plato, 133, 136, 139.
Benedictine Age, the, 350.
Berengar of Tours, 359.
Boethius, 300.
Bollstaedt, Albert, 377, 379.
Bologna, University of, 377.
Burnet, John, Early Greek Philoso
phers cited, 17 n.
Bury, J. B., History of Greece cited,
12 n. ; quoted, 16.
Carneades, 267.
Carpocrates, Gnostic, 310.
Carthage, 15, 16.
Catechists, the School of, 314-318.
Catholic theologians, the old, 312-
314.
Cause, teleological, final, mechan
ical, and efficient, 105 n. See Final
cause, Efficient cause.
Causes, Aristotle's, 187.
Change, Heracleitus's doctrine of,
28, 29; has no existence in Par-
menides' philosophy, 34, 35 ; as con
ceived by the Pluralists, 40.
Charlemagne, the revival of, 349, 350.
Christianity, and neo-Platonism,
difference in their conception of
inspiration, 276, 277; rise of, 279,
280; summary of its history, 281;
and neo-Platonism, 288-290; the
Hellenizing of, 302-318; the early
situation of, 302-305; the philoso
phies influencing, 305, 306 ; early,
the periods of, 306, 307; the Apolo
gists, 307-309; the Gnostics, 310-
312; the reaction against Gnosti
cism (the old Catholic theolo
gians), 312-314; Origen and the
School of Catechists, 314-318; and
Mohammedanism, 371-375.
Chrysippus, 242, 244, 245.
Church, authority of, according to
Augustine, 345-347; strength and
burden of Aristotle to, 378, 379 ; and
state, Aquinas 's and Dante's views
of, 382.
Cicero, on Aristotle, 167; his work,
271, 272.
Civilizations, Christian and Mo
hammedan, 369-372 ; the first con
tact of, 372, 373; the conflict be
tween, 374, 375.
Classic Scholasticism, period of, 333,
368-394.
Cleanthes, 242, 244-246.
Clement, 314.
Conception, and perception, 83 n. ;
importance of, to Socrates, 83 ; ac
cording to Plato, 134, 135; in Aris
totle, 177-179.
Conceptualism, of Aristotle, 104 ; in
the Middle Ages, 358, 364, 365.
Consciousness, formulation of the
psychological conception of, 294;
the inner certainties of, according
to Augustine, 341-345.
Constantinople, an intellectual cen
tre, 372 n.
Cosmas map, the, 335.
Cosmological period of Greek phi
losophy, 12, 13; treated, 15-54.
Cosmologists, characteristics of the,
18-20; table of, 20; their philoso
phical question, 20, 21 ; where they
lived, 21 ; results of their philoso
phy, 53, 54.
INDEX
Cosmology, defined, 13.
Crates of Thebes, 95.
Critical attitude of mind, among
the Greeks, 61-64; of Socrates, 80.
Crusades, the, 374, 375.
Cusanus, Nicolas, 394.
Cynic school, the, 93-97.
Cynics and Stoics, 246, 247.
Cyrenaic school, the, 93-97.
Cyrenaics, their teaching, and Epi
cureanism, 229, 230.
Dante, on Aristotle, 167; used Ptole
maic conception of the universe,
324, 325 ; diagram of his poetic con
ception of the universe, 376; his
view of the state and the church,
382 n. ; placed the intellectual vir
tues above the practical, 383 n.
Dark Ages, the, 347-349.
Deduction, 182.
Definition, Socrates one of the first
to use it correctly, 92.
Democritus, his place in Greek his
tory, 98-100, 103; and Plato, their
similarities and differences, 104-
106; life of, 106-108; comprehen
siveness of his aim, 108; the en
riched physics of, 109-111 ; the ma
terialistic psychology of , 111-114;
his theory of knowledge, 114-116;
the ethical theory of, 116-118; a
wide traveler, 123; advanced age
at which he finished his education,
125.
Development, according to Aristo
tle, 178, 179, 185-187.
De Wulf , History of Mediaeval Phi
losophy, 336 n., 384.
Dialectic, defined, 60, 131.
Dill, Samuel, Roman Society cited,
274 n.
Diogenes, 95.
Dionysiodorus, 68.
Dogma. See Reason.
Dominican tradition, Thomas Aqui
nas the founder of, 380, 381 ; intel-
lectualism the central principle in,
385.
Doxography, 6.
Drama, the Greek, 60, 61.
Dualism, defined, 51 n.; the Pytha-
gorenn, 51, 52; of the Systematic
period of Greek philosophy, 102,
103.
Dynamic pantheism of Plotinus, 293.
Eckhart, 369, 386.
Eclectic Platonists, the, 285.
Eclecticism, 264, 265, 269-272.
Efficient cause, introduction of con
ception of, by the Pluralists, 41;
defined, 105 n.; Aristotle's concep
tion of, 187.
Elean-Eretrian school, the, 93.
Eleatic school, and Milesian school,
Xenophanes the connecting link
between, 26; lives of Parmenides
and Zeno, 32, 35; teaching of,
compared with that of the Mile
sians and Heracleitus, 22 f.; the
philosophy of, 33-37 ; and Heraclei
tus, results of the conflict be
tween, 37, 38.
Element, the, as conceived by the
Pluralists, 40, 41.
Eleusinian. See Mysteries.
Emanations, the world of, according
to Plotinus, 294-297.
Emerson, R. W., Essay on Love,
153 n. ; Initial, Daemonic, and
Celestial Love, 153 n.
Emerton, Ephraim, Mediaeval
Europe, 374 n.
Empedocles, his conception of
change, 40; his conception of the
element, 40; his doctrine of the
efficient cause, 41; his life, 43;
the philosophy of, 44, 45.
Empiricism, 104 n.
End, defined, 105 n.
Entelechy, 186.
Epic, Greek, importance of the, 8-
10.
Epictetus, 243, 246.
Epicureanism, one of the New
Schools, 222-225; and Stoicism,
summary of agreements and dif
ferences, 225, 226; and the teaching
of Aristippus, 229; ideal of, 230-
233; the place of virtue in, 233; the
"Wise Man of, 234-236. See Epicurus.
Epicureans, the, 228.
Epicurus, life of, 227, 228 ; and Aris
tippus, 229; his ideal, 230-233; his
conception of the physical world,
238-240. See Epicureanism.
Epistemology, Democritus' contri
bution to, il4-116.
Erigena, John Scotus, 349, 350; life
and teaching of, 350-352 ; the Greek
principle which he formulated for
the Middle Ages, 352, 353.
400
INDEX
Eristic, defined, 60.
Ethical period of the Hellenic-Ro
man period, 208; general charac
teristics of, 215-218.
Ethics, tendency toward, among
early Greeks, 11, 12 ; of the So
phists, 71-73; of Democritus, 316-
118; Plato's theory of, 153-158; of
Aristotle, 199-202; of Plotinus, 297,
298.
Eucken, Rudolf, Problem of Human
Life, 336 n.
Euclid, founder of the school at Me-
gara, 93.
Eudsemonism, 87.
Euhemerisin, 96.
Eusebius, on Aristotle, 167.
Euthydemus, 68.
Evil, the problem of, according to
Stoicism, 260, 261.
Fairbanks, Arthur, First Philoso
phers of Greece, 6 n.
Falckenberg, Richard, History of
Modern Philosophy, 3 n.
Final cause, denned, 105 n. ; accord
ing to Aristotle, 187.
Fire, Heracleitus's doctrine of, 30-32.
Form and Matter, in Aristotle, 186-
192, 197-199; in Thomas Aquinas,
384.
Formal cause, 187.
Franciscan tradition, the, 385-387.
Freedom, the problem of, accord
ing to Epicurus, 240; according
to Stoicism, 260, 261; according to
Origen, 316,317; according to Au
gustine, 345; according to Duns
Scotus, 389.
Gerbert, 350.
Glaber, quoted, 354.
Gnomic poets, Greek, 10-12.
Gnosticism, 310-312; the reaction
against, 312-314.
God, Plato's conception of, 141, 142;
Aristotle's conception of, 190, 191 ,
His will and His intellect, 386, 388,
389.
Goethe, quoted, 129, 167.
Good, Plato's Idea of the, 140-142,
144; Plato's theory of the, develop
ment of, 153, 154; the, of the Stoics,
250, 251.
Gorgias, 66, 67; the nihilism of, 70,
71.
Gospel, the Hellenizing of, 302-318.
See Christianity.
Greece, after the Persian Wars, 57-64.
Greek Enlightenment, the, 58-64, 82.
Greek-Jewish philosophy of Philo,
281-284 ; and neo-Platonism, 288.
Greek nation, the fall of, and the
persistence of its civilization, 204-
208.
Greek national spirit, waning of, 98.
Greek philosophy, three periods of,
12-14 ; summary of, 102, 103.
Greek thought, was objective, 2, 100,
101.
Greeks, early, geographical environ
ment of, 7; political environment
of, 8, 9, 15, 16; native tendencies of,
9-12; perils to, in the new religion,
16-18; monistic philosophies, 22 f.
Grote, George, History of Greece,
61 n. ; Plato, 267 n.
Happiness, according to Socrates, 86;
according to the Cynics and the
Cyrenaics, 94-97; according to
Democritus, 117, 118; according to
Aristotle, 200; according to Epi
curus, 233-238.
Harnack, Adolf, Outlines of the His
tory of Dogma quoted, 308, 336, 344,
354; cited, 315 n., 345 n.
Hatch, Edwin, Hibbert Lectures
quoted, 305.
Hedonism, and eudaemonism, 87;
some types of, 228, 229.
Hellenic-Roman period, 204-318 ; its
time length, 204; the fall of the
Greek nation and the persistence
of its civilization, 204-208 ; the two
parts of, 208,209; the undercurrent
of skepticism in, 209-211; the fun
damental problem of, 211-213.
Hellenism, 205-208; the centres of,
213-215.
Hellenizing of the Gospel, 302-318.
Heracleitus, life, 28; his teaching
compared with that of the Mile
sians and Eleatics, 22, 23; his phi
losophy, 28-31; and Parmenides,
results of the conflict between, 37,
38; practical philosophy of, 31.
Hesiod, 11.
Hicks, R. D., Stoic and Epicurean»
227 n.; cited, 267 n.
Hipparchia, 95.
Hippias, 66, 68.
INDEX
401
Hippodamus, 68.
Hippolytus, 313.
JJomoiomeriai, 46.
Human nature, value set upon, by
Socrates, 81.
Hylozoism, denned, 19; and Plural
ism, 41; the breaking up of pre-
Socratic, 47; becomes materialism
with Democritus, 109-111.
Hylozoists, the Cosmologists were,
19.
Hypatia, 298.
Idea, development of the meaning
of (Democritus and Plato), 105.
Ideal of Socrates, the, 83-85; what it
involves, 85-88.
Idealism, of the Greeks, 100; ob
jective, 104.
Ideas, of Plato, 133, 135; the develop
ment of, in the two drafts, 136, 137;
brief comparison of the two drafts
of, 137; fuller comparison of the
two drafts of, 137-141 ; in the doc
trine of anamnesis, 147, 148.
Immortality, Plato's doctrine of,
146-150.
Individuality, the problem of, ac
cording to Thomas Aquinas, 383-
385; the problem of, in Duns Sco-
tus, 389, 390.
Induction, 1)2, 183.
Intellect or will, the question of the
primacy of, 385, 386, 388, 389.
Ionic School. See Milesian school.
Irenaeus, 313.
Irish learning, the, 349.
Irony, Socratic, 90.
Jackson, H., article " Sophists," in
Encyclopaedia Britannica, 68 n.
Jamblichus, 298, 299.
Jewish (Greek-) philosophy of Philo,
281-284; and neo-Platonism, 288.
Julian, Emperor, 298.
Justin Martyr, 308.
Kingsley, Charles, Hypatia, 298 n.
Knight,William A., Life and Teach
ing of Hume, 3 n.
Knowledge, in Socrates' ideal, 83-86,
88; according to the Cynics, 95;
Democritus' theory of, 114-116.
Lanfranc, 359.
Law, positive and natural, 72.
Learning, the impulse for, among
the Greeks, 58, 59; the Revival of,
375-378.
Leucippus, his life, 43, 44; his philo
sophy, 47, 48, 109, 110; founder of
the Atomistic school, 107.
Logic, Aristotle's, 180-185.
Love, Platonic, 151-153.
Love and Hate, Empedocles' doc
trine of, 44.
Lucretius, 228.
Lyceum, the, Aristotle in, 166, 167,
172, 173; after Aristotle, 220-222;
eclecticism in, 270.
Lycophron, 68.
Maine, Sir Henry, cited, 72.
Man, the philosophy of, 13, 55-97;
Plato's conception of, 144-146.
Material cause, 187.
Materialism, hylozoism becomes,
with Democritus, 103, 109-111;
Stoic, 254, 255.
Materialistic psychology of Demo
critus, 111-114.
Matter, and Form, in Aristotle, 186-
192, 197-199, 384 ; of Plotinus,295, 296.
Mean, the, Aristotle's doctrine of,
201, 202.
Mechanical series of Aristotle, 194-
196.
Mediaeval geography, 335.
Mediaeval library, a, 326-328.
Mediaeval Man, the, 320, 321 ; how the
universe appeared to, 322-325; at
school, 325, 326; summary of the
political and educational worlds
of, 330-333.
Mediaeval philosophy, length of, 1 ;
underlying character of, 3; divi
sions of, 4 ; treated, 319-394.
Megarian school, 93.
Mendicants, the, 368.
Metaphysical problem, the, early
formulation of, 22, 23.
Metaphysics, Plato's, the formation
of, 132-136; Plato's, the develop
ment of, 136-141; Aristotle's, 185-
194; abandonment of , in Hellenic-
Roman period, 216; of Plotinus,
294-297.
Metrocles, 95.
Middle Ages, characteristics and
conditions of, 319-333; and the
Hellenic-Roman period, compari
son of, 319, 320 ; the mediaeval man,
402
INDEX
320, 321; how the universe ap
peared to the mediaeval man, 322-
325 ; the mediaeval man at school,
325, 326; a mediaeval norary, 326-
328 ; the three periods of, 328-330 ;
summary of the political and edu
cational worlds of the mediaeval
man, 330-333; the early period of,
330-332, 334-353; the transitional
period of , 332, 354-367; the period
of classic scholasticism, 333, 368-
394.
Milesian school, 24; the members of,
24, 25; the philosophy of, 25, 26;
the teaching of, compared with
that of Heracleitus and the Eleat-
ics, 22, 23.
Milton, John, 325.
Modern philosophy, length of, 1;
underlying character of, 3; divi
sions of, 4.
Mohammedanism, growth of, dur
ing the Middle Ages, 370-372; first
contact with Christianity, 372, 373;
conflict with Christianity, 374,375.
Monism, defined, 10 n.; of the early
Greeks, 10 ; displaced by pluralism
in Greekjphilosophy, 39.
Monists, list of "early Cosmologists
who were, 20; discussion of the,
22-38.
Monotheism, defined, 10 n. ; for the
first time conceptually framed,
191.
Monte Cassino, founding of the mo
nastic school at, 348.
Moral postulate, philosophy for the
first time founded upon, 85; of
Socrates, 85-88.
Motion, according to Aristotle, 195,
196.
Mysteries, Orphic and Eleusinian, |
16-18, 38 ; Orphic, dangers of,
averted by Cosmologists, 54.
Mysticism, in neo-Platonism, 287.
Natural Science. See Physics.
Nature, the philosophy of , 15-38; the
word as used by the Sophists, 72, 73 ;
a logical, Socrates' attempt to find,
92; physical, Plato's conception of,
142-144; Aristotle's conception of,
192-194; Stoic conception of, 251-
257.
Reo-Platonism, and Christianity,
difference in their conception of
inspiration, 276, 277 ; rise of, 279,
280; summary of its history, 281;
and Platonism, 287, 288; and the
philosophies of Philo and the neo-
Pythagoreans, 288 ; and Christian
ity, 288-290; the periods of, 290;
the Alexandrian school (scientific
theory of neo-Platonism, life and
writings of Plotinus), 290-298 ; the
Syrian school (the systematizing
of polytheism, Jamblichus), 290,
298, 299 ; the Athenian school (Pro-
clus), 290, 299-301; its influence on
Christianity, 306.
Neo-Pythagoreanism, 281, 285-287;
and neo-Platonism, 288.
Nominalism, 103, 358, 362-365, 391,
392.
Norton, Arthur O., Readings in the
History of Education, 377 n.
NOILS, Anaxagoras' conception of,
47; of Plotinus, 294.
Numbers, Pythagorean conception
of, 49-51.
Objective character of Greek philo
sophy, 2, 100, 101.
Objective Idealism, 104.
Objective Realism, 104.
Ockam, William of, 387 n., 390; the
course of philosophy after, 393,
394.
Order, thought of, developed into
clearness by Cosmologists, 54.
Origen, 280, 281, 314-318.
Orphic. See Mysteries.
Oxford, University of, 377.
Palmer, G. H., on Socrates, 79.
Panaetius, 270, 271.
Pantheism, defined, 10 n. ; dynamic,
of Plotinus, 293; of Erigena, 351-
353 ; of the realists, 363.
Paris, University of, 377.
Parker, C. P., cited, 258 n.
Parmenides, life, 32; develops the
doctrine of Xenophanes, 32 f . ; his
philosophy, 33-35; and Heraclei
tus, results of the conflict be
tween, 37, 38. See Elentic School.
Particulars and Universals, accord
ing to Thomas Aquinas, 383-385.
Pater, Walter, Marius the Epicu
rean, 227 n.
Patmore, Coventry, Angel in the
House. 153 n.
INDEX
403
Patristics, 302-318.
Perception, and conception, 83 n.;
according to Plato, 134 ; in Aristo
tle, 177-179.
Pericles, 58.
Periods, of philosophy, the three
general, 1-4; of Greek philosophy,
12-14.
Peripatetics. See Lyceum.
Persia, 15, 16.
Persian Wars, their importance, 55-
57, 62.
Personality, spiritual, increased im
portance of, in history, 277-279.
Pessimism, result of theory of Cyre-
naics, 97.
Peter the Lombard, 379, 380.
Phsedo, founder of the Elean-Ere-
trian school, 93.
Philo, Greek-Jewish philosophy of,
281-284; and neo-Platonism, 288.
Philoponus, 299.
Philosophic skepticism. See Skep
ticism.
Physical universe, early Greek ten
dency toward scientific explana
tion of, 10, 11.
Physics, Socrates' view of, 80; en
richment of, under Democritus,
109-111; Plato's conception of, 142-
144; Aristotle's theory of, 194-196;
of Epicurus, 238-240.
Plato, 104 ; parts of works to be read
75 n. ; his place in Greek history
93, 98-100, 103, 104; and Democri
tus, their similarities and differ
ences,104-106 ; the period of his life
119, 120; the difficulties in under
standing the teaching of, 120, 121
the chronology of his dialogues
119, 120 ; the life and writings of
121, 126; his student life, 121, 122
as traveler, 122-124; as teacher ol
the Academy, 124-126; concerning
his dialogues, 126-128 ; the factors
in the construction of his doc
trine, 128-131; his inherited ten
dencies, 128-130; his philosophica
sources, 130, 131; the divisions o
his philosophy, 131, 132 ; summan
of his doctrine, 132 ; the formatioi
of his metaphysics, 132-136; the
development of his metaphysics
^the development of his ideas in
the two drafts), 136-141 ; his con
ception of God, 141, 142 ; his con-
caption of physical nature, 142-
144 ; his conception of man, 144-
146 ; his doctrine of immortality,
146-150 ; the two tendencies in,
150, 151; Platonic love, 151-153; hia
theory of ethics, 153-158 ; develop
ment of his theory of the Good,
153, 154 ; the four cardinal virtues,
154, 155 ; his theory of political so
ciety, 155-158; a selection of pas
sages from, for English readers,
158-165; in the Middle Ages, 331,
337, 338, 360, 363.
Platonism, the revival of, 279 ; and
neo-Platonism, 287, 288.
Platonists, Eclectic, 285.
Pleasure, of Epicurus, 230-233. See
Happiness.
Plotinus, 280, 287, 288; life and writ
ings of, 290, 291 ; general character
of his teaching, 291, 292 ; the mys
tic God of, 292, 293 ; the two prob
lems of, 293 ; the metaphysical
problem of, 294-297; the ethical
problem of, 297, 298.
Pluralism, tried to reconcile ex
tremes of Milesian school, 39, 40;
and hylozoism, 41.
Pluralists, list of later Cosmologists
who were, 20; their new concep
tion of change, 40; their new con
ception of the unchanging, 40, 41 ;
introduction of conception of effi
cient cause by, 41 ; summary of
similarities and differences in the
ories of, 41, 42; their lives span the
fifth century, 42. See Empedo-
cles, etc.
Plutarch, neo-Platonist, 299.
Political philosophy of Aristotle,
202, 203.
Political society, Plato's theory of,
155-158.
Polytheism, Homeric, 19.
Polytheisms, the systematizing of,
298, 299.
Porphyry, 291, 298, 357.
Posidonius, 270, 271.
Primary and secondary qualities,
116.
Probabilism in Stoicism, 262.
Proclus, 299-301.
Prodicus, G6, 68.
Protagoras, 66, 67 ; the relativism of,
69, 70; his point of view compared
with that of Socrates, 81.
404
INDEX
Psychology, materialistic, of Demo
critus, 111-114; Plato's, 144-146; o
Aristotle, 196-199; the "Stoic,"* 248-
250.
Ptolemy, his cosmography, 322-325.
Purpose, Aristotle's conceptions of
186-190.
Pyrrho, 266.
Pyrrhonism, 265, 266.
Pythagoras, 17.
Pythagoreanism, neo-, 281, 285-287
and neo-Platonism, 288.
Pythagoreans, the early, 17; the
later, 44, 48, 49 ; their conception of
Being, 49-51 ; their astronomy,
52, 53; their dualism, 51, 52.
Qualitative changes of phenomena,
196-202.
Rationalism, defined, 104 n. ; of Plato
and Democritus, 104; of Abelard,
365-367.
Realism, 100, 104, 358, 362^365; object
ive, 104.
Reason and dogma, the relation be
tween, 355, 356, 360-362, 365-367.
Reconcilers. See Pluralists.
Relativism, of Protagoras, 69, 70;
represented by the anthropolo
gists, 103.
Religion, of the Greeks, organiza
tion of, 8, 9, 10 ; the new, perils of,
16-18; in Epicurus 's system, 236,
237 ; and science, the separation of,
under Duns Scotus, 387, 388.
Religious feeling, two causes of the
rise of, 272-274.
Religious period of the Hellenic-
Roman period, 208, 209; treated,
273-301 ; the divisions of, 280, 281.
Religious philosophies, Hellenic, rise
of, 280, 282 ; summary of history of,
281 ; introductory period of, *281-
287; development period of, 281,
287, 288.
Revival of Learning, the, 375-378.
Rhabanus Maurus, 350.
Rhetoric among the Greeks, 60.
Romans, their conquest of Greece,
205-208
Roscellinus, life and teaching, 361,
362.
Rossetti, Christina, Shadow of
Dante cited, 325 n.
Kousseau and Epicurus, 229.
St. Ambrose, 306.
Salerno, University of, 377.
Scholasticism, what it is, 355-359 ; of
Anselm, 359-361; of Roscellinus,
361, 362; of Abelard, 363-367; clas
sic, period of, 333, 368-394.
School, in early Greek philosophy,
meaning of, 19
Schools, the, 214, 218-226; fusion of
doctrines in, 269; after 150 B. c.,
notable names in, 271. See Acad
emy, Lyceum, etc.
Science, early tendencies toward,
among the Greeks, 10, 11; growth
of, in Hellenic-Roman period, 216,
217; secular, of the age of Augus
tine, 339; and religion, the separa
tion of, under Duns Scotus, 387,
388.
Scotus, Duns, gave a new direction
to philosophy, 369; upheld the
primacy of the Will, 385, 386; the
founder of the Franciscan tradi
tion (life and philosophical posi
tion of), 386, 387; his conception
of the twofold truth, 387; the in
scrutable will of God, according
to, 388, 389; the problem of indi
viduality, according to, 389, 390;
the course of philosophy after, 390,
391.
Secondary and primary qualities,
116.
Secular science of the age of Au
gustine, 339.
Seignobos, Charles, History of Me-
diceval Civilization, 373 n.
Seneca, quoted, 234.
Sensationalism, defined, 104 n.
Sensationalistic skepticism, 268, 269.
Sextus Empiricus, 268.
Sill, The Two Aphrodites, 153 n.
Simplicius, 299.
Skepticism, what it is, 69; the un
dercurrent of, in the Hellenic-
Roman period, 209-211; philoso
phic, the appearances of, 264, 265;
the three phases of, 265-269 ; of the
Academy, 266-268 ; sensationalis tic,
268, 269.
Socrates, and Aristophanes, opposed
the Sophists, 74 ; works on, for
reading, 75; personality and life
of, 75-80; his daemon, 77,83; and
the Sophists, 80-82 ; unsystematic
character of his philosophy, 82,83;
INDEX
405
tbe Ideal of, 83-86 ; what his ideal
involves, 85-88; the two steps of
his method, 88-Ul ; and Athens, Ul;
the logical expedients of, 9'2, 93;
and the Lesser Soeratics, 93-95.
Socratics, the Lesser, and Socrates,
93-95.
Sophists, significance of, 64-67; the
prominent, 67, 68; the philosophy
of, 68-71; the-ethics of, 71-73; sum
mary of their work, 73; met in
two ways by Socrates and Aristo
phanes, 74 ; and Socrates, 80-82.
Soul, Plato's doctrine of, 145-150; ac
cording to Aristotle, 196, 197; of
Plotinus, 295, 297, 298.
Spenser, Edmund, Hymn in Honor
of Beauty, 153 n.
Spiritual authority, the need of, 275-
277; the turning to the present
for, 287, 288.
Spirituality, rise of the conception
Of, 277-279.
State, Plato's doctrine of, 155-158;
and church, Aquinas's and Dante's
Views of, 382.
Stoic school, the, 222-225; inclines to
eclecticism, 269, 270.
Stoicism, and Epicureanism, sum
mary of agreements and differ
ences, 225, 226; position of, in an
tiquity, 241, 242; the three periods
Of, 242, 243; leaders of, 243-246;
writings of, 246 ; the two promi
nent conceptions of, 247, 248; the
conception of personality, 248 ; the
psychology of, 248-250 ; the highest
good, 250, 251; the conception of
nature, 251-256 ; conceptions of na
ture and personality supplement
each other, 256, 257; and society,
257-259; duty and responsibility,
259, 260 ; the problem of evil and
the problem of freedom, 260, 261 ;
modifications of, after the first
period, 261-263; its influence on
Christianity, 305.
Stoics and Cynics, 246, 247.
Storm and Stress, 362, 363.
Sums, of Peter the Lombard, 379, 380.
Syllogism, the, 182.
Syrian school of neo-Platonism,290,
298, 299.
Syrianus, 299.
Systematic period of Greek philo
sophy, 12-14; treated, 98-203; the
three philosophers of, their place
in Greek history, 98-100; the fun
damental principle of, 100-102.
Tatian, 313.
Teleology, defined, 105 n.
Terminism, 392.
Tertullian, 313.
Teuffel, W. S., History of Roman
Literature, 227 n.
Thales, 24, 25.
Theological series of Aristotle, 196-
202.
Thrasymachus, 68.
Timon, 266.
Transitional period of Middle Ages,
332, 354-357.
Turner, William, History of Philoso
phy, 336 n.
Twofold reality, world of, Democri-
tus' theory of, 114-116.
Ueberweg, History of Philosophy,
quoted, 6; cited, 269 n.
Unchanging, the, as conceived by
the Pluralists, 40, 41.
Universalia ante rem, 104, 358, 362-
365, 384.
Universalia in re, 104, 358, 364, 365,
384.
Universalia post rem, 103, 358, 362-
365, 384.
Universals and particulars, accord
ing to Thomas Aquinas, 383-385.
Universe, diagram of Dante's con
ception of, 376.
Universities, the establishment of,
377.
Useful, the, according to Socrates,
87,88.
Valentinus, Gnostic, 310.
Vincent of Beauvais, 379.
Virtue, meaning of, 84; according to
Socrates, 84-88; according to the
Cynics, 95; according to Aristotle,
199-202; place of, in Epicureanism,
233.
Virtues, the four cardinal, in Plato,
154, 155.
"Weber, History of Philosophy cited,
Wheeler, B. I., Life of Alexander
the Great, cited, 66 n.; quoted,
172.
406
INDEX
Will, freedom of. See Freedom.
Will or intellect, the question of the
primacy of, 385, 38G, 388, 389.
William of Aubergne, 379.
William of Champeaux, 363.
Windelband, History of Ancient
Philosophy, 37 n.; cited, 121 n.,
311 n. ; quoted, 254.
Witte, Karl, Essays on Dante, 325 n.
Wordsworth, William, Dion, 123 n. ;
Ode on Intimations of Immortal
ity quoted, 148.
Xenophanes, religious philosopher,
26 f . ; philosophy of, 27 f .
Xenophon, parts of works to be read,
75 n. ; on Socrates, 76, 93.
Zeller, Edward, Pre-Socratic Phi
losophy, 3 n., 100 n.; quoted, 101,
102; Greek Philosophy, 37 n.
Zeno, Eleatic, his life, 35 f.; his
philosophy, 36, 37. See Eleatic
school.
Zeno, Stoic, 242, 244, 246.
B
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